#so it might be a little different from what i originally wrote

[youvebeengalindafied]

This is all @polyarmy and @fiyeroba ‘s fault for making me sad about Glinda again so now I’m posting my whole Glinda Meta here (originally an obnoxiously long dm sent to @gamorahww who is a patient saint)

You’ve asked for it, and now you get……The Glinda Meta™

First: I have been obsessed w/ Glinda's character for like 15 years. She is my roman empire. But I also really LIKE her as a flawed character - something that the fandom has always seemed to be a little uncomfortable with.

She is, to me, what Jane Austen once wrote about Emma:

“I am going to write a heroine whom no one but myself will much like.”

Full meta character analysis under the cut. Uh. Strap in.

(This gets a lil long sorry, but PLEASE HEAR ME OUT -)

To me, the interesting thing is what actually - ACTUALLY - motivates Glinda to act the way she does is so much greater and deeper than a simple desire for success/fame/popularity.

Like obviously in literature/critique of narrative, we have this idea of protagonists vs supporting characters. Supporting characters might have philosophies or goals that drive them (think Nessa and Boq) but those philosophies and goals are usually not developed into self-contradictory nuance the way a protagonist's motivations are. They’re just facts about the character.

And in my option, a big problem in the wicked fandom is that everybody seems to treat Glinda as a supporting character whose motivations are easy to digest. To most fans, she's either the girlfriend who is there to support Elphaba's story by being "loving but conflicted." Or to critics she's entirely selfish and cruel (even as she's fun and interesting), and therefore a semi-antagonist

But if you step back and treat Glinda as a true antihero protagonist of Wicked (for the sake of the mental character study), you see that she's not actually motivated by love or popularity or even success....what drives her is desperation.

Glinda sees her world as a place that cannot be changed and will only work to destroy those who cannot correctly operate in it. And she is SO DESPERATE to avoid that. Elphaba's fate is actually her worst fear - she cannot break away from society and leap to a new fate, because she is the ultimate cynic who thinks there is no way that could possibly work. In fact, it's an enormous testament to her love (however you want to intepret that) of Elphaba that she's even willing to consider leaving during Defying Gravity. For a brief moment, her immense, incredible faith in Elphaba is almost enough to overcome her complete desperation to survive the horrible world she thinks she's in.

And that obviously means that she's not as noble as Elphaba or as brave as Fiyero as a character - she cannot make the choice to leave when both of them do at different points - but that's because she's the most "human" character in the story. Most people are not brave enough to become international terrorists, even in the face of great evil. We might join in a developed cause, but to knowingly walk towards what is likely one's death to change a system you know you’ll actually have very little effect on...that takes a very special kind of person. And while Glinda is a GOOD person, she is too much a cynic and too desperate to survive her crazy world to become that impossible standard of the Rebel or the Hero. She's just a flawed, scared girl, in circumstances she never dreamed she’d be in.

And then the craziest thing happens:

Rather than showing Glinda that she should have been brave and done what E and F did, the narrative instead goes and basically confirms all her darkest fears: Elphaba rebels...and her revolution fails, and Glinda loses her best friend to bitter hatred and insanity for most of Act 2. Fiyero decides to leave and do the right thing by going with Elphaba....and he is almost immediately murdered in a horrible, violent way as punishment for it. This can only reinforce for Glinda that the State/the System/the World is all-powerful, and she must bow to it.

But that's the most fascinating moment for her character, because the very moment she realizes the absolute overwhelming power of the system (March of the Witch Hunters) is also the very moment that chooses to die rather than perpetuating it. She leaves the City to approach Elphaba - whom Glinda thinks POSSIBLY WANTS TO KILL HER - and BEGS Elphaba to not die. Begs Elphaba to stop her self-sacrificial madness. Begs Elphaba to allow Glinda to sacrifice herself instead ("Then I'll go, I'll tell everybody the truth!" "No! They'll just turn against you!" "I DON'T CARE!" - this girl who is entirely motivated by survival is straight up throwing it all on the line ready to walk to her death at the hands of a mob with wide open, unblinking eyes)

And obviously, in doing so, she is making the same choice that Fiyero did earlier in the story, But the huge difference is that Fiyero is a classic case of a "dead from the beginning" character, and he does not have the same motivations as her. He starts as a nhilist already embracing death in Dancing Through Life and his character is not somebody who is desprate to survive - his character is driven by a desperation for a faith. And Elphaba (and her cause) is his faith that he happily martyrs himself for.

By contrast, Glinda is terrified of the system that is trying to kill her, and she is desperate to survive it. She sees the way it takes everything form her, again and again, destroying everything she loves - Elphaba, Fiyero, her own sense of goodness…

(And she is extremely genre-aware that she is in a tragedy: her world isn't fair, and she knows that Elphaba will fail. She knows this will all go wrong.)

But Glinda still has such strength of character that she - in the end - overcomes all of her fear, all of her weaknesses, and humbles herself at the pyre to join the people she loves so much in their fate. She both offers to die for Elphaba and she takes up Elphaba's work and dedicates her entire life to it, consequences be damned. And that comes from a place of ultimate love and goodness, despite all of her flaws and all the temptations dissuading her.

Because Glinda is not Elphaba or Fiyero - she isn't a starry-eyed optimistic rebel or a man with a obsessive, loving faith. She is just a girl. Just Emma. And she is extremely flawed, and has so many fears that push and pull at her in a way the other main characters do not experience. But despite being so painfully, humanly defective, her goodness allows her to do the right thing in the end.

tl;dr - the greatest thing about Glinda’s character is that she is flawed, and she is weak and makes all the wrong choices. But in the end, she humbles herself completely - to the point of offering her own life for Elphaba and taking the whole weight of the world on her shoulders despite all her fear - because she is ultimately good.

And thus in the end, she becomes the person that Elphaba so clearly sees her as throughout the story: good, caring, and able to make real change in the world. She will now try desperately to fully live up to Elphaba's incredible faith in her. And it's so heartbreaking and tragic, but also one of the best character arcs ever.

So I guess it's less "wants to stay safe in her bubble" and more "she sees no option other than to stay safe. The State/System is all-powerful and there is nothing she thinks she can do to change that. But the beauty of the character lies in her decision to step out of that bubble anyways."

—

BONUS: Glinda’s flaws in relation to her relationship with Elphaba

(Or why Gelphie is a devastating ship (romantically or not) but not in the way you think)

This section dedicated to the SJB/AA performance that just BREAKS ME.

Elphaba basically sees Glinda through some WILDLY rose-tinted glasses (which is just. such a fascinating insight into elphaba’s character). Which is why a good chunk of the fandom accepts it as fact that Glinda is ~not actually all that flawed~ or is somehow being forced to make the decisions she is (she is not. the narrative point of Fiyero’s character is to prove that lol)

Glinda is very much complicated and does make some truly terrible decisions. Elphaba just sees and believes the good in her, despite everything she does (because it’s also a fact of the story that - either platonically or romantically - she’s clearly a little in love with Glinda. (The passes she gives that girl…)). I don’t think her weird thing about Glinda is particularly rational, but it is undeniably all-consuming.

And that makes their relationship feel VERY human. Their flaws don't make them unworthy of each other’s love and respect and friendship. Elphaba's love of Glinda is pretty crazy in light of how much Glinda’s morals and choices differ from her own, but that’s the kind of love that real, sometimes illogical people have. Anybody trying to prove the logic or compatibility of the characters is kinda missing the point - it doesn’t make sense, and THAT’S how you know it’s love.

(Brief aside: similar to Elphaba’s obsession with Glinda, Fiyero is also irrationally obsessed with Elphaba. I mean, she kinda sucks at the whole revolution thing (she's trying!!) and he's clearly starry-eyed ignoring a LOT of her flaws lol. In contrast - for better or worse, Glinda does see Elphaba's flaws and calls them out, just as Elphaba sees Fiyero's flaws and calls him out. It’s a nice little circular relationship)

But…but….is it gay???

Sure. I think so - but I’m a lesbian who has shipped it since I was a preteen lol. But that’s also NOT THE POINT, and focusing on only the romantic angle of their relationship REALLY ignores just how layered and complex it is.

Taking off my squee shipping glasses for a minute: they’re fundamentally just two people in some version of an EXTREMELY intense relationship. I honestly think Glinda reads as a little terrified of how insanely intense her relationship is with Elphaba. She fears walking down that road and fully falling down the path of that intense, all-consuming love. (And we literally learn why later through Fiyero’s ‘death’ and Elphaba’s insanity. Love makes you do some crazy things.)

Regardless of whether you interpret them romantically or not - it’s clear they’re very intense about each other and Glinda is very afraid that Elphaba is her weakness. Unfortunately, Elphaba is also her soulmate and the love of her life, and she’ll come back to her always. That will ruin Glinda’s life in the end, but it will have been worth it for all the love that was there

[cantareincminor]

Fandom Eras in an Ongoing Canon

Something I've been thinking about recently, as I've been writing SxF fic for about one year, is the inherent uncertainty of writing for an ongoing canon as the characters evolve gradually with each new arc Endo creates.

For example, Twilight. We can joke about how the man is taking forever to acknowledge he loves his family, and the slow slow slow burn of Twiyor. But after 100+ chapters, he is indeed different from where he started. Chapter 1, he was willing to return a poor little kid to the orphanage like a defective toy when he realized she might not be a prodigy as he originally thought. He also left her at home alone and literally barricaded the door to keep her there.

Later, he acknowledges the trauma she must have faced as an orphan and becomes hyper-sensitive to little signs like how she arranges the sand table in his office (even if he reads her completely wrong).

By the time exams roll around, he avoids criticizing her for the Tonitrus bolt in math and gives her a genuine smile for her achievement in classical language, appreciating how she worked really hard.

With Yor, when he initially met her, he told himself he would figure out a way to trap her in the marriage if needed for the sake of the mission. Luckily he didn't have to do that, but the fact he remains that he was theoretically willing to. Then every ten to twenty chapters or so, Yor does something to surprise him with her kindness and strength and unconventional understanding of the world, and he grows to trust her and care for her wellbeing, to the point of taking a bullet for her and sparing Yuri.

In another 100 chapters, or by the end of the manga, whenever that will be, how much more will Twilight change?

As fan creators, how will our imagination of these characters change by then? Will we remember how we viewed season 1 Twilight? The fics we wrote and the characterizations we gave him? How about season 1 Yor, who had an obsession with knives and tended to imagine murder as the solution to any problem she couldn't solve immediately?

My main frame of reference is the ATLA fandom and how the characterization of Zuko and the flavor of Zutara fics changed over three seasons. Fics written during season 1 sometimes characterized him as a dark brooding villain with the trope of capturing or threatening Katara, mixed with uncomfortable power dynamics. Fics written during season 2 cast him as more vulnerable and uncertain, imagining how he might join Team Avatar, as we started to see him as the immature teenage dork he was all along. By season 3, immature teenage dork took over much of his fanfic persona as he finally joined the good guys in canon and added a fresh dynamic to the team. Fans wrote lots of friendship and redemption fics, diving into how he reconciled with Katara and won her over as a friend before pursuing her romantically.

I haven't participated in the ATLA fandom for a long time, but I imagine that few writers now will write fics based on season 1 Zuko, at least not with the fan-imagined version of him that was popular back then. Too much has changed about his canon character to make that palatable.

So, I wonder what it'll be like years from now when Twilight and Yor and other characters are notably different. What will it be like to look back on fanfics written in 2022-2025? Will we still enjoy them easily, or will we have to suspend disbelief as they'll feel like AUs with OOC characters?

Part of me feels sad about this, but I suppose this is always the risk of writing for an ongoing canon! At least I am not the only one risking so much of my own time on creating these stories out of love for these characters.

[vetchtibbles]

I’ve had a couple people ask me about the results on this quiz and wanted to see the other options, so here’s all the descriptions I wrote for the recommended shows down below:

Uquiz Podcast Descriptions

[Unseen - A short urban fantasy show where each episode is a different monologue from someone in the unseen world! Incredible music, writing, and performers. Some of the episodes are really genuine and sad, some are fast paced and comedic. You get something new every time - a college class lecture, a voicemail, a tour, a story. I love this show and I highly recommend it!

Red Valley - A sci-fi mystery with amazing writing and performances - a show about the scientists behind cryogenic technology, and the people that got mixed up in it all accidentally. I'm obsessed with this one and cannot wait for the next season!

Malevolent - A Lovecraftian horror about a detective with the voice of a mysterious entity stuck in his head. You've got to take notes for this one. This show is devastating, emotional, terrifying, and one of the most beautiful pieces of media I've ever enjoyed. You should really give this one a try! The sound design, writing, and voice acting are all insane - especially because it's all done by one creator.

Camp Here and There - For this show, you get the mealtime announcements from the loud speakers at an unusual summer camp in Ohio. Enjoy paranormal happenings, drama among the camp counselors, and a banger soundtrack (yes, by Will Wood. I still have no idea why.)

Death by Dying - Absurdist comedy. A very thorough obituary writer tries to get to the bottom of every mysterious death his column covers. This show has wordplay, nice gothic vibes, and a strange little town with far too many strange little deaths.

Welcome to Nightvale - This show is a classic among audio drama podcasts, having started in 2012 and still going strong. Every episode is a radio broadcast from the bizarre little town of NIghtvale, located somewhere in the desert. Tune in for news, traffic, sports, sponsors, horoscope, and the weather, none of them what you'd expect. You should really listen to some of this one if you haven't yet

Wolf 359 - This might just be my all-time favourite show - a long form scifi about a small crew aboard a spaceship orbiting a distant star. Things start innocently enough, but this show builds in drama and mystery quickly. Incredible soundtrack, writing, and performances! Intrigue! Witty writing! Amazing actors! SPACE!!! This show has everything and I love it very much

The Amelia Project - A comedy about an agency that fakes people’s deaths. This show has fun characters, absurd situations, and a banger of a theme song. Each season feels completely unique, but I always have fun listening to this one

Sherlock and Co - This is the best modern adaptation of Sherlock Holmes that I know of. For being set in 2023 - 2024, the stories are insanely book-accurate! This show is done as an in-world true crime podcast, so it's very immersive. The actors are incredible, and the theme song is fantastic

The Magnus Archives - The recordings of a paranormal research institute's archived statements. Things gradually start connecting across stories, and everything starts becoming more complicated for our characters working at the institute. This show is long at 200 episodes (with a developing sequel) and has some amazing writing and performances! It explores all kinds of horror imaginable, while being centrally about the characters and humanity. You'll enjoy this one 100%

The Bright Sessions - Here's the thing. The original show is good, but the sequel is definitely more of my kind of show. Bright Sessions is a long form series about the patients of a psychologist that works with people who have special abilities. It's pretty sweet and mostly about character relationships, but the sequel show AM Archives is a scientific thriller/survival show about ethical dilemmas in medicine and patient care - it also has more in the way of music and sound design. Both shows are really well done, with incredible performers and writing!

Deviser - A short form horror that I can't explain too much of without spoiling the entire thing, but this show is AMAZING! It's the most terrifying thing I've ever heard done in audio, so be prepared for that. It's got it all - insane sound design, performance, writing, and music, all done by one creator. If you want a dark speculative fiction about humanity and our relation to artificial intelligence, with a dog, then give this one a try

Zero Hours - A short series of one-off episodes spanning time in ninety-year increments, all with the theme of the end of the world. I truly love this show - each episode is devastating in a different way. The actors, sound design, and music are all incredible, and the show is produced by my favourite audio fiction team. Please listen to this one, you WILL enjoy it

Time:Bombs - This show is short at only three episodes - the fast paced account of a bomb disposal team on one night - New Year's Eve. There's a surprising amount of character development and heart for such a short story in this one, and you can listen to the whole thing in one setting, take the quiz again, and find another show! I'm kidding of course but I do love this show. The creators made the whole thing in one week, which is insanely impressive

Wooden Overcoats - This show proves that the only difference in tragedy and comedy is your point of view. A sitcom about two rival funeral homes on a tiny island off the coast of France with far more absurd deaths than you might think for such a lovely little community. This is honestly one of my favorite shows of all time, and I know you'll enjoy it too. It's incredibly good - the performers and gothic orchestral soundtrack are amazing, the writing witty and fast paced, and I know my descriptions aren't giving this show any justice. It's that good. Go listen to it.

Alice isn’t Dead - Poetic and terrifying, this show is about a truckdriver searching America for her wife, whom (as the title suggests) she thought was dead. If you're into the idea of the endless and lonely expanse of the American mid-west as horror, then this is the show for you!

Re: Dracula - The novel Dracula by Bram Stoker is conveniently made up of journal entries, letters, and newspaper articles all corresponding to certain dates. With this in mind, the podcast Re: Dracula released each day's events as written in the book in high-quality audio format! Essentially, this is just a really good audio book, with full cast performances, sound effects, and a haunting musical score. For fans of the book already, or anyone who enjoys gothic horror and literature

Cry Havoc! Ask Questions Later - You didn't know you wanted an ancient Roman political comedy, did you? Well, you do. And the good news is, this show is perfect for you! It starts just after the unfortunate murder of Julius Caesar, when the financially struggling republic of Rome has turned to its new triumvirate for support. The three of them, however, are having a bit of trouble managing the world-superpower. This show is great, with incredible writing, performances and soundtrack. The story's got it all: intrigue, forbidden love, rivalries, and theatrics. Enjoy!

Trice Forgotten - Listen to this show if you like stories about PIRATES! Or if you're into shows with incredible soundtracks, intrigue, immersive soundscapes, and women sword fighting each other.

The White Vault - Long-form found footage horror about scientists dealing with paranormal happenings while trapped at a research base in the snow. Very technical and linguistic, so if you're into that, then you should give this show a try!

Fawx and Stallion - If you hate the Sherlock Holmes books then this show is for you, because this is about a different mystery solving team in Victorian London. It's a comedy about the neighbors of literature's most famous detective having to solve a major mystery as, essentially, the backup team. This show is very fun, and I look forward to the next season. You should definitely give it a listen!

New Year’s Day - This show releases one episode per year, on New Year's Day. Two magicians agree to meet up and talk every thirteen years since a performance stunt left them both immortal. There's only three episodes of this out at this point, so come back in a couple decades and let me know how it turns out! It's already really good!]

Made a quiz :DD -

[lock-my-feelings-in-a-jar]

can't wait to hear russ's new albums aaaaaaaa i want to know the track lists

[helielune]

[witchywithwhiskey]

another man’s marks

pairing: toxic!bucky barnes x toxic!female reader

summary: you're texting with your situationship when he asks for a nude photo—but you're covered in marks left by another man. wanting to see what he'll do, you send a photo of yourself, and you're rewarded with a very torturous and enjoyable reaction.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), established situationship, smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering (f receiving), masturbation (m), come play, bdsm elements, a lot of biting and marking, orgasm delay, choking, some breath play, some pain play, some dacryphilia, dirty talk, daddy kink, praise kink, degradation kink, pet names (baby), begging, teasing, some aftercare, taking and sending nude photos, possessive behavior, toxic behavior, jealousy, referenced but not shown situationship between reader and john walker, very anti-john walker behavior

word count: 7.3k

a/n: so this post came across my dash and i had the thought 'ok but what if you sent a situationship a picture covered in another man's marks?' and i started thinking about how toxic situationship bucky might react and then i wrote the first draft of this fic very quickly 🤭 i actually really love toxic bucky but i'm a little nervous to share this because i just want you all to love him as much as i do 🥺 (and, actually, he's not as toxic as i originally intended but y'know what, that's ok i think). i hope y'all enjoy ♡

you ain't my boyfriend and i ain't your girlfriend series masterlist

Let me see your tits, baby.

The text message drew a huff of noise from you, one that was half laugh, half scoff. You were laying in bed, already wearing your pajamas—an oversized tee and panties—and catching up with your situationship, Bucky Barnes, before you went to sleep.

His request wasn’t entirely out of the blue. After asking how your day was, Bucky had started complaining about his day, and you’d known the man long enough to know those kinds of conversations often led to him asking you to send a photo of yourself—though he usually wanted a picture of what panties you were wearing.

Most of the time, you didn’t hesitate to take a picture to send to him. But that time, you paused.

You liked Bucky. You liked talking to him and hearing about his day, and when you were together, you had fun. Plus, you liked sending photos of yourself to him, and you enjoyed the fact that he wanted to see your body when he wasn’t with you. It stroked your ego when he asked for a photo, and he always responded with filthy praise that turned you on. 

But that particular night, you had a problem preventing you from simply taking a photo. And, really, the problem was partly to blame on Bucky. 

From the beginning, he’d said he didn’t do relationships, he’d told you he wasn’t ready to commit to just one person. He’d been clear and up front about what he wanted, and it was nothing more than a situationship, which was fine with you. You liked him, but you weren’t going to beg for more.

But you’d also decided that if he wasn’t going to commit to you, then you certainly weren’t going to clear out your roster just for him. You weren’t going to be one of those girls sitting at home pining away for some guy. Not even Bucky Barnes.

Which, in a long, winding way, led to your current predicament. 

After all, there was a difference between Bucky being vaguely aware you were still hooking up with other guys—since you occasionally referenced your roster—and him seeing the evidence of it. And you had to wonder how he’d react if you took a picture of your tits in the state they were that evening…

It had only been about a day since your last hookup, and your mind wandered to the night before. You’d met up with one of the other guys on your roster, John Walker, and had a decently enjoyable dick appointment. You hadn’t expected Bucky or any of the other men on your roster to ask for pics, so you’d let John do what he wanted to your body.

If there were two things you knew about John Walker, it was that he and Bucky hated each other, and he loved your tits. John loved playing with them, he loved sucking on them, and he loved leaving hickeys all over them. Which he’d done the night before—and then proceeded to give you a not very satisfying orgasm. 

Sure, it’d done the trick in the moment, but not even 24 hours later, you were already restless again, your body needing a proper release, which you knew Bucky could give you. But you weren’t planning to see Bucky for at least a couple days, not until the evidence of your hookup with John had faded.

Lifting your shirt, you looked at John’s handiwork. Your tits were dotted all over with at least a dozen tiny little love bites, and your body warmed as you remembered the knife-edged pleasure that came along with each little mark. They were so recent, the bruises were still reddish, not having yet fully faded to a dark purple. 

As you looked at them, you had a devious thought—what would Bucky do if he saw John’s marks on your body? Would he blow you off, stop talking to you, maybe even ghost you? Or would he need to see you so badly that he’d come over to your apartment? Would he fuck you and give you the release you needed?

Thinking through your options, you knew it would be the kind, respectful thing to send Bucky an older photo, one of your tits when they were entirely unblemished. You had plenty of photos like that on your phone—and Bucky probably wouldn’t even notice if you sent him the same photo twice.

Or… You could send Bucky a photo of your tits covered in another man’s hickeys. You could, if he asked, tell him exactly who had given you all those hickeys. And then, you could see what Bucky would do about it. 

A wicked smile crept across your face as you came to a decision. 

Lifting your shirt again, you arched your body toward the light in your room, making sure the marks were clearly visible on your skin, then you snapped a photo of your tits. Before you could talk yourself out of the idea that was probably toxic and definitely a little mean, you sent the photo to Bucky.

His reply was almost instantaneous.

Who the fuck did that to you.

You bit back your mischievous giggle, even if you were alone in your room and there was no one to hear the evil way you wanted to cackle at Bucky’s response. Excited thrills raced through your veins, warmth blooming between your thighs at the anger laced in his text message.

You knew you’d be pushing him further toward anger by answering his question—you knew how much Bucky and John hated each other—but he’d asked. And besides, you were hoping he’d take out all that anger on your body in the most delicious of ways. So you sent a simple response.

John Walker.

You waited for Bucky’s response. 

And waited. 

But as the minutes ticked by and Bucky didn’t text back, your heart sank more and more, and the delighted smile on your face flattened into a frown. You began to think Bucky might actually be ghosting you.

For only a moment, you let yourself feel disappointed at the way your phone didn’t light up with another text from your situationship, but you wouldn’t allow yourself to be sad over a man like Bucky Barnes. Even if he fucked you way better than John Walker or any of the other guys on your roster. Even if you liked him more than any of the other guys you’d been with.

Hauling yourself up from your bed, you went through your nighttime routine, brushing your teeth and washing your face while listening to music. It wasn’t until you were about to slip into bed and go to sleep that your phone buzzed with a new text message. 

Your heart lept into your throat when you saw it was Bucky and you scrambled to read his response, eager to know what had taken him so long. Your breath caught in your throat and excitement buzzed wildly through your veins when you saw what he’d written.

I’m outside. Open your door.

A shiver of anticipation zipped down your spine as you bounded out of bed, an ecstatic grin spreading across your face at the realization that you’d got what you wanted—Bucky was at your apartment. And he was going to do something about the photo you’d sent him. 

It took all your self control not to run to your apartment door and fling it open excitedly to greet Bucky. Instead, you forced yourself to take your sweet time padding to the door, your movements deliberately lazy as you unlocked it and swung it open.

Bucky Barnes loomed on the other side, his head hanging between stiff arms, his hands braced on either edge of the frame like he was holding himself back from kicking down your door. His broad shoulders were bunched up, his short, brown hair messy like he’d been running his hands through it. His chest was heaving as he breathed harshly. 

When he lifted his head, the stubborn possessiveness in his darkened blue eyes slashed right through to your heart. He’d never looked at you that way before, and you had the terrible, fleeting thought that you could get used to being the only girl Bucky looked at so possessively. 

For a moment, the two of you just stared at each other. Then, Bucky stalked forward, crowding you into your apartment and gathering you up in his strong arms while he kicked the door shut behind him. It closed with a rough slam that had your pulse skittering in your veins, your heart already pounding in your chest as Bucky crushed you in his arms.

His gaze held yours and there was something about the emotions swirling his eyes, a mixture of uncompromising possessiveness and lustful determination, that felt dangerous. Not to your body, but to your heart. 

“You got a lotta nerve sending me a picture with another man’s marks on you,” Bucky growled as he walked you backward toward your bedroom, his hands groping your hips and ass like every inch of your body belonged to him. “You weren’t trying to make me jealous, were you, baby?” 

His words were a furious hiss that he punctuated by ducking down and snapping his teeth at your plump lower lip, biting you roughly enough to wring a gasp from your lungs. Between your thighs, you could feel your pulse pumping needily, your body aching for so much more of Bucky’s rough treatment even as you forced yourself not to cower and submit like you wanted.

Pushing against Bucky’s shoulders until he leaned back and you could catch his eye, you quirked an eyebrow at him in a dry expression of amusement. 

“You’re a big boy, Bucky,” you said, before pausing to run your tongue along your lower lip, feeling the tender spot he’d bitten. Dark satisfaction swirled in your chest, but you made yourself shrug indifferently. “And I’m not your girlfriend—so if you’re jealous, that’s your problem, not mine.”

“You let him mark you,” Bucky snarled, an accusation in his tone as he stared deep into your eyes.

For a moment—just a brief moment—you saw a hurt look in Bucky’s gaze, and it pricked at something deep in your heart. Something you refused to look at or examine, especially not with Bucky standing right in front of you. You didn’t want to think about the fact that Bucky might’ve been hurt by your actions, or that you cared about his feelings enough to want to apologize.

But you supposed you could take pity on him. You’d tormented him enough for one night. 

“Yeah,” you said, cocking your head to the side, a sly smirk curving your lips. “And what are you gonna do about it, daddy?” You practically purred the final word, knowing how Bucky would react to it. 

Just like that, the hurt vanished from Bucky’s expression and heat sparked in his icy blue eyes, a menacing smile pulling across his face. 

“You wanna see what I’m gonna do about it?” he growled, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. “Oh, baby, you’re not fucking ready for what I’m gonna do to your pretty little slutty body.”

Bucky crowded into you, pushing you backward until your legs hit your bed, and then he was shoving you down to the soft blankets. You crawled backward into the center of the bed while Bucky toed out of his shoes and took off his jacket, leaving him in only a black t-shirt and gray sweatpants. 

Once he’d tossed his jacket somewhere in your room, he didn’t waste anymore time, prowling onto the bed and using his hands to push up the hem of your oversized tee. His head fell to your body, his teeth nipping harshly at your soft belly to make you squeal and squirm as he worked his way up. He delivered the same treatment to the curves of your brests and the delicate skin of your collarbone.

When his face finally hovered above yours, his breathing was harsh and his expression was filled with a determination so stubborn, you knew you were going to have a long night while Bucky showed you why you shouldn’t let another man mark your body.

“You’re not leaving this bed until you’ve got so many of my fucking marks on your body that you won’t even think about sending nudes to anyone else,” Bucky growled, tugging off your tee, pushing your legs open so he could settle between them, and descending on your tits. 

He found the first of John’s marks and sank his teeth into the skin around it, sucking hard on the already aching bruise. The spot gave a little twinge of pain from Bucky’s rough treatment, but it only mixed deliciously with the pleasure he was dragging from your body, and your fingers threaded into his hair, clinging to him while he sucked on your skin.

Bucky worked the reddish-purple blemish relentlessly with his mouth and teeth until it was bright again, and so much larger than the mark John had left. Then, when he was done, Bucky moved on to the next hickey, scraping his teeth over the bruise and wringing a helpless cry from your lips before he sucked the curve of your tit into his mouth. 

It went on like that for you didn’t know how long, Bucky working methodically down and across your chest, sucking and biting every bruise John had left behind on your body until each one was replaced with a new, bigger mark.

If you begged Bucky for more—or tried to push his furious mouth down toward your pussy, which was throbbing almost painfully with need—he’d simply narrow his eyes at you, giving you a look like you’d known exactly what you were getting yourself into when you’d sent that photo to him. Then he’d work his mouth even harder, even more roughly against your body, until you were tossing your head back into your pillows and moaning your pleasure.

By the time he was done, you were nothing more than a whimpering, pleading mess beneath him. Your eyes were filled with tears of desperation, and your inner thighs were sticky with the sheer amount of desire soaking your panties and coating your trembling flesh. 

“Daddy, please,” you begged on a sob, shoving at Bucky’s shoulders to get his attention as he roughly kissed a spot in the valley between your tits, licking and sucking a new hickey into your skin. 

At the sound of your ragged voice, Bucky lifted his head, but you could already tell by the determined glint in his eye and the stubborn set of his jaw that he wasn’t going to give you what you wanted just yet. 

“Hush, baby,” he rasped in a dark, patronizing tone, lowering his mouth back to your chest and sucking on the hickey he’d just left. “Daddy’s just getting started marking your beautiful body with all the pretty little bruises I want.” His voice was a rough growl that reverberated beneath your skin.

Between your thighs, you could feel more of your desire trickling into your panties, which were already soaked all the way through and sticking to your clammy skin. A whine worked its way up your throat and spilled from your lips before you could stop it, your legs squirming around Bucky’s sides, trying to grind your cunt against his body but unable to get the angle right. 

While you wriggled frustratedly, Bucky paid you no mind, shifting down your body as he picked a spot for his next mark. When his teeth sank into the soft flesh of your belly, you cried out, arching up off the bed and spreading your thighs wider to make room for Bucky’s broad shoulders. 

Your fingers twisted in his soft brown hair, trying to push his head down further, until it was between your thighs, whimpering a soft sob of, “Bucky, please.” 

But Bucky was having none of it. Despite your pleading and protests, he took his time, only peeling your panties away from your soppy wet cunt after taking his time leaving a trail of hickeys on your belly. 

When he saw how wet you were, Bucky chuckled and murmured, “Such a messy little slut, baby.” 

He’d said the words fondly and, if you weren’t mistaken, there was affection in the curve of his smile that had you feeling something you didn’t want to look at too closely. But your treacherous heart beat a little harder all the same.

Then his words sank into your lust-soaked mind and heat bloomed in your face at the gentle degradation. But what little shame you could conjure up only mixed with the burning of your desire as you stared down into Bucky’s darkened eyes, holding his gaze while he took off your panties and tossed them somewhere in your room.

He turned his focus back to the juncture of your thighs, shoving your legs wide open and smirking when you let out a helpless little moan at the feeling of the cool air brushing against your heated, dripping cunt. You were so worked up, you could feel your inner muscles clenching around nothing, needing to be filled with something.

“Your pussy’s winking at me, baby,” Bucky rumbled, laughter in his voice as he spread your pussy open with his fingers. You could feel it, your body winking at the man between your thighs like you were begging him to slide inside you—his fingers or his cock, you didn’t care. “She wants me bad, doesn’t she, baby?”

Bucky’s taunting words had you covering your face and letting out a low, tortured groan even as your hips twitched, your body yearning desperately to be filled, to be fucked. “Bucky,” you whined, drawing out his name pitifully as your hips bucked into his hands, seeking more of his touch.

But Bucky didn’t oblige your body’s request. His hands skimmed away from your pussy and along your thighs to hold you behind your knees, pushing your legs up to your chest so you were bared fully to his heated gaze. When you peeked out from between your fingers, you saw him staring hungrily down at your cunt, but at your movement, his gaze flicked up and caught yours.

“Do ya want me that bad, baby?” Bucky purred, ducking down to nuzzle his scruffy cheek against your inner thigh—so close to where you needed him, but still too far away. On instinct, your hips bucked upward, trying to press your pussy against Bucky’s face, but he held you down, grinning as he went on. “Ya want daddy’s fat cock to pound into your cute little cunt, huh, baby—want it hard and rough so you’ll be feeling me in your pretty pussy for days?”

“Oh god yes—yes, please, Bucky—daddy, please, I need your cock,” you babbled desperately, your hips squirming as you humped the empty air, seeking any part of Bucky that you could grind your aching cunt against. You didn’t care if it was his mouth or his cheek or his shoulder, you needed something.

Instead of giving you that, though, Bucky turned his face and sank his teeth deep into your thigh, hard enough that your pussy pulsed violently and you thought you were going to cum. But you didn’t. 

Once the blinding sensation of pain and pleasure passed, you knew you wouldn’t manage to tip over the edge just from Bucky’s teasing. You weren’t going to cum until he finally paid attention to your pussy, and somehow you suspected Bucky knew that. 

“Tell me how bad you want me,” he growled, sucking on your skin and beginning to leave a new mark on your inner thigh. His gaze was locked on yours as he stared up your body, past your heaving chest that was already littered with his marks, commanding you with the stubborn, possessive look in his eyes to do as he said.

“Want you so bad, daddy,” you cried, your whole body trembling like a leaf in a bitter autumn wind. Tears of frustration and need were pooling in your eyes again and you knew that if Bucky kept edging you for much longer, they were going to spill down your cheeks. “Want you more than anything—anything—please just fuck me!”

Bucky’s eyes glittered, the possessiveness is his gaze deepening and turning into something feral as he stared up your body. Finally, his mouth pulled away from your quivering thigh—after he placed one last affectionate kiss on the mark he’d left. 

“Tell me you want me more than John fucking Walker,” he spit out, shifting his head to your other thigh and sinking his teeth into your soft flesh as he held you pinned to your bed with his thick biceps wrapped around your legs. 

Your heart fluttered in your chest and your breath caught in your throat. You hadn’t expected to get such a reaction out of Bucky when you’d sent him that picture of your tits with John’s marks all over them. But you also couldn’t bring yourself to regret it. Not when he was looking at you like you were his while he sucked yet another mark into your skin.

“I want you so much more than him,” you murmured. “I want your marks on me, I want your cock and your cum in me—I want you, Bucky.”

The words tumbled from your lips—the ones Bucky had demanded—and you were more than a little surprised by the vehemence in your voice, and how easy it was to admit you wanted Bucky more than John. 

Sure, you’d known he was a better fuck than John, but things with Bucky felt right in a way they didn’t with any of the other men on your roster. Like the two of you fit together somehow.

And that scared you. It scared you enough that you rushed on, forcing yourself to raise an eyebrow at Bucky and muster a dry tone as you asked, “Is that what you wanted to hear?” You could detect the hitch of emotion beneath the taunting tone of your voice, but with any luck, Bucky wouldn’t.

Thankfully, he seemed not to notice, responding to your words by growling into the soft flesh of your thigh, his eyes narrowing into a glare. He gave the hickey he’d sucked into your skin one last pull, then pushed himself up. 

Before you could beg again for him to fuck you, Bucky roughly grabbed your hips and flipped you over. His teeth sank so hard into the plush curve of your ass, you screeched into your pillows. There was more pain than pleasure that time, but Bucky knew the edge you liked to walk and he didn’t give you more than you could handle.

As it was, even more wetness flooded between your thighs and you writhed beneath Bucky’s big body, all the small stinging aches of the marks he’d left blending with the pulsing throb of need coursing through your veins. It was enough to break the damn of your tears and you sobbed into your pillows.

“Bucky, please, please, I need your dick,” you cried, straining your neck to look at him over your shoulder. 

Bucky’s dark blue eyes were narrowed into slits and when he finally pulled his teeth from your ass, he continued glowering at you, looking grumpy and almost entirely unbothered by your pleas. You knew he wasn’t entirely unaffected, though, because his cock twitched against your thigh when he saw your tear-stained face.

“Tell me you won’t do it again and I might consider giving you some dick,” he growled, holding your gaze as he ducked down to lick and soothe the bite mark he’d left on your asscheek. 

“I won’t send you another picture covered in John’s marks, I promise,” you rushed to say, arching your back and whining. Your body was moving on its own, trying to present your pussy to Bucky, but he only scraped his teeth over the mark he’d left in your skin.

“Not good enough,” Bucky grumbled, shifting to your other cheek and sinking his teeth into your ass, giving you another bite mark. When you hissed at the pain, Bucky relented, stroking his tongue over the spot as he sucked on your skin. “No one else gets to mark you but me.”

You had to look away to hide the way your eyes rolled at that demand. Bucky wouldn’t commit to you, but he wanted you to promise you wouldn’t let another man mark you. Fucking men. You glared into your pillows, not saying anything and hoping he’d drop it if you didn’t respond.

He didn’t. 

“Say it, baby,” Bucky growled, leaning to the side and slapping your ass. He managed to hit the exact spot he’d bitten, which was tender from his teeth and mouth, making you cry out. “Say I’m the only one allowed to mark you.”

“Men who aren’t my boyfriend don’t get to make demands like that, James,” you snarled, turning to glare at him over your shoulder. 

The two of you glared at each other for a long minute. You knew Bucky could be stubborn, but you could be much more stubborn when you wanted to be—and you fucking wanted to right then. If Bucky thought you were going to let him dictate what you could or couldn’t do with other men while he refused to commit, he had another thing coming.

Slowly, Bucky shifted up onto his hands, climbing up your body with the languid movements of a predator until his bigger form covered your smaller one. 

Still, you glared at each other. 

His hand pushed his sweatpants down until his cock bounced free, the stiff length slapping your ass lightly. His precum immediately started leaking into the valley between your cheeks, and your pussy pulsed in desire.

Still, you glared at each other.

“Say it, or you’re not getting my dick,” Bucky rumbled obstinately, pushing his stiff length between your thighs to drag against your dripping wet slit. 

You sucked in a sharp breath and arched your back, giving him more of your pussy to rub against—but that didn’t mean you were going to submit to his ridiculous demand. And he wasn’t going to turn you into a liar.

“Say you’re my boyfriend, or you’re not getting my pussy, daddy,” you retorted, putting as much mocking sarcasm into the nickname as you could manage. 

Bucky’s eyes flashed with so much annoyance, you couldn’t help the satisfied smirk that curled your lips, which only made his face contort in even more frustration. 

His hand reached between your thighs, pressing his cock deep into your slippery folds until the head caught at your tight hole. But he didn’t push inside. Instead, he let the tip slide through your folds to grind against your clit.

Need and desire pounded an unceasing drumbeat beneath your skin, your hands curling into fists in your blankets as you bit back a desperate moan. But you didn’t let your face go slack with pleasure, you kept right on glaring at Bucky over your shoulder, even as he repeated the motion, teasing your tight little pussy with the head of his big cock. 

Finally, something in Bucky snapped and he ducked down, capturing your mouth in a savage kiss, his lips and teeth attacking yours until both of you were breathless with need. You were practically vibrating with it beneath Bucky’s big body, and even his arms were trembling when you blinked your eyes open as he pulled away. 

“You’re gonna be the fucking death of me, baby,” Bucky rumbled, his voice so low and gravelly, you felt its deep tenor roll down your spine and settle deliciously in your core. As he spoke, he tilted his hips just the right amount and pushed the head of his cock into your dripping hole, making both of you groan in pleasure. 

“Right back at ya, daddy,” you quipped at him, your voice embarrassingly breathless as you clung to the blankets of your bed and arched your spine, pushing back into Bucky as he pressed forward. 

It took one long, glorious moment for Bucky to sink the full length of his cock inside your drenched, sopping wet pussy, and you nearly blacked out at how good it felt after so long of his teasing torture. 

He was bigger and thicker than any man you’d ever been with—though you’d never in a million years admit that to him—and it was always a little overwhelming when he first slid inside. But you loved it. You loved the way your body stretched to fit him, the way you could feel your pussy wrapped so snugly around his thick length. You loved the way you could feel him throb and twitch inside you, especially when he was close to cumming. 

And you could tell by the way his cock was twitching inside your tight hole that he was already close. That was good, because after all his teasing had worked you up, you didn’t think you were going to last long anyway.

Bucky gave you a moment to adjust to his size while he yanked his t-shirt over his head. Then he was pressing his bare chest to your back and pushing you deeper into the soft blankets of your bed until you lay prone beneath his strong body.

Only then did he pull his hips back, making you feel every delicious inch of his thick cock, before slamming inside again. Wrapping his arm underneath your neck, he tucked his bicep beneath your chin and held you pinned to his chest, forcing you to arch your spine more and feel the way his hips clapped against your ass as he pounded into you.

“I’m the only one who can fuck you like this, baby,” Bucky growled in your ear, grinding his cock into the depths of your cunt until you were whimpering beneath him. “You’re daddy’s good little slut, and only daddy can fuck your pussy the way you need it, isn’t that right?”

“Yes—yes, daddy, you fuck me so good,” you cried out, hands scrabbling at the bed sheets for leverage to push back into him. 

“Tell me what I want to hear,” he demanded harshly in your ear, the words sinking into the deepest parts of your brain. 

A twisted smile curled the corners of your mouth because you knew exactly what Bucky wanted to hear, and you were only too happy to give it to him. It was safer to admit what you were about to admit because it was the heat of the moment, and you hoped Bucky would think you were just saying it to make him happy. Only you could know that you meant every word.

“You fuck me so much better than John, daddy,” you purred, pushing your hips back into Bucky’s thrusts, forcing him deeper into your cunt until you were so full of him, you thought he was imprinting himself on your very being. “Your dick feels so good, so big, daddy—you’re the only man who fucks me so good, Bucky, you’re the best dick I’ve ever had. ”

“Fuck—fuck, baby,” Bucky bit out, his mouth brushing against your cheek, his stubble rasping against your skin and making you shiver. He fucked you harder, faster, rutting into your slick cunt like he was trying to leave another mark inside you. “Rub your clit for me, wanna feel you cum on my fat cock.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You slid your hand between the blankets and your body, slipping it between your thighs and circling the tight nub of your clit with a viciousness that matched how Bucky was fucking you. Your inner walls clenched down hard on Bucky’s cock, dragging filthy groans from both your mouths as he pushed deeper and began grinding inside you.

“Your pussy feels so fucking good,” he gritted out through clenched teeth. “Never felt anything so tight.” He let out a harsh breath, his forehead falling to your shoulder as he kept up his relentless fucking, pushing you closer and closer to the edge of your release. “Feels like you’re choking my cock, baby—I can’t hold on much longer.”

“Choke me, daddy,” the words tumbled from your lips before you could stop yourself, the deepest recesses of your brain responding to Bucky’s words in a plea for one of your darkest desires.

Bucky’s bicep and forearm squeezed the sides of your neck instantaneously, giving you what you begged for and cutting off some of your air so you were forced to gasp for every little breath. You pussy squeezed tighter around his cock, wringing a rasping chuckle from the depths of his chest.

“You’re such a filthy, depraved little slut, baby,” Bucky murmured teasingly in your ear before nipping the shell with his teeth, dragging a ragged cry from your lips. “Ya like it when daddy chokes you, huh? Bet John fucking Walker doesn’t choke you like this, does he?”

“No,” you gasped, your voice hoarse but genuine as you admitted, “He’d never choke me—he’d never treat me like a slut.”

“That’s fucking right,” Bucky growled, somehow managing to fuck you even harder, his hips snapping into your ass so hard, you could hear the sharp clapping of his skin against yours even over his heavy breaths panting in your ear. 

“I’m the only man who can fuck you like you need it—dirty and rough. That’s how you like it, isn’t it, baby—you like being fucked like a slut?”

“Yes, yes, yes, yes,” you chanted, as much in response to Bucky’s debauched question as to the feeling of his cock pounding into your cunt. You were so close—so close you could barely think, but you knew everything Bucky was saying was right. He was the only man who fucked you the way you needed it, and you needed to cum on his cock.

Thankfully, Bucky seemed to want the same thing. 

“Cum for me, baby,” he growled in your ear, his hips slamming his cock into your body hard enough to nearly hurt, but the pain-edged pleasure only pushed you closer to your release. “Cum on daddy’s cock while he’s choking your pretty little neck and fucking you like the filthy slut you are.”

Bucky’s words and his cock, and your fingers on your clit, sent you over the edge, your eyes rolling into the back of your head and a ragged scream tearing free from your lips. Pleasure consumed you, body and mind alike, until all you knew was the sensation of ecstasy drowning out everything else. 

It went on for one long, endless moment, pleasure pulsing through your being until it finally abated. Then, the world began to reform around you. Slowly, you returned to yourself, Bucky’s cock still driving into you, his thrusts turning wild and desperate as he growled in your ear.

“Fuck, you feel good, baby,” he was rumbling, rutting into you while your pussy squeezed him in a perfect clenching rhythm. “Feels like your cunt’s begging for my cum. Is that it? Ya want my cum that fucking bad, baby?”

“Yesss,” you moaned, your limbs melting beneath him as you savored the feeling of Bucky chasing his release in your body. “Want your cum, daddy, please gimme it,” you whimpered, weakly pushing your hips into his big body in a wordless plea.

Bucky grunted a soft, “Fuck,” and then pressed deep, burying his cock to the hilt in your still pulsing cunt as he came. He let out a long groan, his cock twitching against your inner walls while he emptied his balls into your pussy, the warmth of his cum filling you up.

It felt so good, your lips curled at the edges in a happy smile. Every part of you felt warm and satisfied, and you basked in the unmatched afterglow that came in the wake of getting fucked by Bucky Barnes.

When he was finally spent, Bucky eased his hips back, pulling out of you gently so he didn’t hurt your thoroughly used pussy. You appreciated the effort, even if you did feel a pang in your gut at the loss of him, like your body was mourning his absence.

Bucky rolled off you and flopped onto his back, leaving you limp and sated. 

And cold. 

The man who’d just fucked you better than anyone else ever had made no move to pull your naked body into his, but that wasn’t surprising. Bucky wasn’t the type to initiate post-sex snuggling, though he didn’t stop you from cuddling into him if you initiated it.

Gathering your strength, you heaved your body toward Bucky, draping yourself on top of him, wrapping an arm over his stomach and hitching your thigh over his hip. Your cooling skin pressed to his heated body as you tucked your face into his neck, cooing happily when his arm curled around your shoulders, holding you against his side.

But a post-sex snuggle wasn’t the only thing you’d been looking for. 

Your mouth found the side of Bucky’s neck, your lips working against his skin, kissing and sucking and biting him while he rumbled soft sounds of satisfied pleasure. You didn’t stop until you’d left a hickey, but when you pulled away to get a look at it, you decided it wasn’t enough. 

After all, you were literally covered in his marks. 

So you went back to work, sucking on the hickey until the bruise was so big, there’d be no hiding it—not unless Bucky suddenly started wearing turtlenecks. Somehow, you knew he wouldn’t. You knew he’d wear your hickey proudly, even if it meant he might not get laid until it faded.

When you were finally satisfied with your work, you brushed one last kiss to the hickey, and settled down at Bucky’s side. Your cheek pressed to his chest and you listened to his heart thumping a steady drumbeat beneath his pecs. 

For a moment, you were both quiet, enjoying the feel of each other. Then Bucky fished his phone out of the pocket of his discarded sweatpants, which he’d kicked off at some point. He held the device aloft over the two of you, tilting his head to the side and using the front-facing camera to look at the mark you’d left.

“I guess I deserve this,” he commented, trailing his fingers over the gigantic hickey. There was no anger or annoyance in his tone, though, only amusement. He skimmed his fingers down to your shoulder and gently rearranged your arm until the marks he’d left on the sides of your tits were visible. “Now we’re even.” 

A snickering smile curved your mouth and you were about to retort that you weren’t anywhere close to even, but the soft click of Bucky’s phone snapping a photo cut you off. 

Reaching up, you tapped the screen to show the picture and you had to admit, it was pretty cute. The hickey on Bucky’s neck was prominent and he wore a cocky grin on his attractive face while you smirked into his chest, his marks dotting your skin even though you weren’t revealing too much of your breasts. 

It was the kind of photo you’d consider setting as your phone’s background if Bucky was your boyfriend. 

He wasn’t, but that didn’t mean you didn’t still want it.

“Send that to me,” you said, trying to keep your tone light.

But Bucky must’ve heard how much you wanted the picture, because he chuckled evilly, pulling the phone out of your reach. When you lifted your head to glare at him, there was a mischievous glint in his blue eyes. 

“If I send this to you, you gotta promise not to let John mark you up again.”

That time, you let him see you roll your eyes while you reminded him, “Only boyfriends get to make demands like that, Bucky.”

Huffing a frustrated sigh and giving you a half-hearted glare, Bucky tapped the screen of his phone a couple times. A second later, your phone buzzed with a text and when you glanced at it, you saw he’d sent you the photo of the two of you. 

“Fine,” he grumbled. “I just don’t ever wanna see his fucking marks on your body again.” 

You nodded your agreement, saying, “That’s fair.” It was the least you could do, all things considered.

Bucky laughed to himself at your easy agreement, then pushed you onto your back and spread your thighs while he sat up on his knees between your legs. “Now, smile pretty for daddy, baby. I wanna take some photos of all the hard work I did marking you up.”

A pleased grin pulled across your face. As much as you enjoyed taking pictures and sending them to Bucky, you loved it even more when he wanted to take pictures of you himself. So you laid on the bed and let Bucky position you how he wanted so he could take photos of his handiwork. 

“You gonna jerk off to these when you get home, daddy?” you taunted, staring up at Bucky and smiling for his camera. “Gonna rub your cock to pictures of your marks all over me?”

Bucky’s eyes flashed and his cock twitched between his thick thighs, making your smirk widen. You knew you were provoking him again, but you couldn’t seem to stop.

“You gonna make yourself cum looking at photos of me covered in your marks, daddy?” 

Your teasing comments led to you laying helplessly beneath Bucky, his knees keeping your thighs spread wide so you couldn’t grind against anything while he jerked himself off with his fist. The only thing he allowed you to do was knead and grope your tits, your pleasure mixing with aching pain from the bruises covering your skin. 

Bucky came like that, his cum covering your fingers and chest in ropes of his seed, marking you all over again.

He took even more photos of the sight of your hands playing with your cum-covered tits, then fucked your pussy with his fingers, sounding very pleased with himself when he teased you for getting off on him making a mess of your slutty body and pushing his cum deeper inside you. 

It was late when Bucky finally left your apartment, and you realized you’d been right. It had been a very long night. But even though you knew you’d only get a couple hours of sleep before work, it had been so worth it to text Bucky that photo of your tits covered in another man’s marks.

Over the next few days, Bucky demanded an endless stream of photos of the bruises he’d left on your tits and ass. He was busy at the office and the two of you couldn’t find time to see each other, but he didn’t want to miss any of the progression of the marks he’d left as the hickeys deepened into a dark plum color on your skin. 

It turned you on to send so many photos, to see the constant reminder of the marks he’d left on your body, so you indulged Bucky every time he asked for more photos. It helped that he responded with a mixture of sweet degradation and filthy praise that had your heart beating harder in your chest and wetness gathering between your thighs. 

Every night for a week, you got yourself off to the dirty things Bucky texted you, the promises of what he was going to do to your body the next time he saw you. But more than anything else, you kept going back to the possessive text message he’d sent the day after he’d been to your apartment, rubbing your clit to Bucky’s words. 

Don’t you dare show John fucking Walker your tits with my marks on them, baby. Those marks on your body are all fucking mine, and they’re only for you and me.

you ain't my boyfriend and i ain't your girlfriend series masterlist

[healmydesires]

Ok so the recent post that you made on my filthy thot Logan how about you take the led of dominance one night instead of Logan and he absolutely loves it

a/n: nonnie, this is sooooo hot. I kinda had to adjust it a bit tho <3 hope you don’t mind! thank you for sending this!!! 🩷 mwah

you got my attention ꕤ (l.h)

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

summary: Though Logan lets you take control and show your appreciation, in the end, you're still the one begging for him.

genre: smut (with some fluff in the end tbh) (18+ mdni)

word count: 5,8k

warnings/tags: established relationship, same universe as this fic, porn with barely no plot, reader is described as shorter than logan, lap dance, unprotected sex, piv sex, soft!dom logan, sub!reader, use of handcuffs, slight choking, dry humping, oral (f!receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie, slight orgasm denial / edging but it’s short ngl, overstimulation, face sitting, doggy, rough sex, major size kink, praise kink, dirty talk. some daddy kink? breeding kink fuck sorry. I wrote this while I’m on my period lol. lots of pet names. this is high key filthy. reader has hair, no further description though. after care. this is not beta read sorry!

this goes without saying, but if you don't like it don't read it <3

AO3 • masterlist

You're sitting on the bed you share with Logan, waiting for him to enter the bedroom where you're dressed in soft, pastel lilac lace lingerie. You've been intimate with Logan many times before, so you know what to expect, but this time feels a little different. Your heart is racing, and you're feeling a bit anxious. Logan usually takes control in the bedroom, but tonight, you've been wondering what it would be like if you were the one to take the lead.

If there's one thing you love doing, it's teasing Logan. You thrive on the thrill of acting out just to get a reaction from him, and you enjoy being a brat more than anything. You love being submissive, and there's nothing you'd rather be. 

But the thought of making him feel like you're in control, even if only for a few minutes, gets you all hot and bothered. You know Logan might take back control quickly, but just having that moment of power excites you.

You’ve always thought that stripping for Logan or putting on a show would be something fun to try one night. The idea of showing him how much you appreciate him by dancing to sensual music while he sits back on a chair or the couch, watching your body move, excites you. Just thinking about it makes you feel hot and turned on.

Logan’s entrance pulls you out of your thoughts as the door swings open. His eyes lock on you immediately, taking in the sight of the delicate lingerie clinging to your skin. “Hi, pretty girl,” he says with a playful smile, clearly appreciating the little fabric you're wearing. 

The lingerie you’re wearing is a lilac set with turquoise and lilac flowers embroidered onto the lace. The cups of your balconette bra are pretty transparent unless it’s for the floral details at the top to the middle of the cups, barely covering your nipples. You can see his eyes travel from your chest to your waist as he takes in the elastic band, covered with the same lace pattern, of the suspenders. His eyes linger a bit too long as he takes in the small thing that barely hides the curves of your ass. A matching thong, the elastic band sitting just below your suspenders. Logan’s eyes wander from your covered core to your shoulders as he notices the lilac see through robe with lacy details hanging off your shoulders loosely.

“Hi,” you manage to respond, your voice soft and trembling. Your cheeks heating up as his intense gaze travels up and down your body, sending a wave of warmth through you. For a brief second, you feel the familiar pull to submit, to let him take control like always. But then you remind yourself to stick to your original intentions.

You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest. Sticking to your original plan, you clear your throat and muster the courage to speak, despite the stutter. “C-could you, uh, sit in the chair?” You ask, nervously. Logan raises an eyebrow, intrigued by your request.

An amused smile then tugs at the corners of his lips as he nods briefly, surprised but clearly understanding what you're trying to do. “Are you asking or telling?” Logan teases, his voice smooth, challenging, and dripping with amusement.

The playful tone sends a shiver through you, momentarily shaking your confidence. You know he’s testing you, waiting to see if you’ll follow through. Swallowing the nervousness building inside you, you take a slow, deep breath, determined to stick to your plan, no matter how intimidating his presence feels right now.

His response makes your heart pound in your chest. Mustering up every ounce of confidence you can find, you lock eyes with him and say, “I said go sit in the chair.” The words feel foreign on your tongue, definitely out of character for you, but there's a spark of amusement in Logan's eyes that encourages you to keep going.

You can tell he’s entertained by this rare side of you, and though it feels strange, the thrill of his reaction pushes you to stick with it. His eyebrow raises slightly, the hint of a smirk playing on his lips, and for a moment, you feel a rush of control that excites you even more.

Logan never takes his eyes off you as he makes his way to the chair in the corner of the room. Settling into it, he leans back, his posture relaxed, yet his gaze remains sharp and unwavering. You watch as takes off his shirt and pulls down his jeans, exposing his hard cock pressing against his boxers. The look he gives you, despite your attempt to take control, makes it clear he still holds the power. His mischievous eyes silently tell you he could end your little fantasy whenever he chooses, effortlessly reminding you of who’s really in charge, even as he watches you with quiet anticipation.

Logan watches you walk towards the closet, opening it before you kneel down on the soft carpet in front of it as your hand tries to reach for something inside the closet. His eyes travel to your ass, observing your curves, how plump your ass looks. The way your cheeks squeeze the barely there material between them.

You can practically feel his eyes burning into you—more specifically, your ass—because you know exactly where he's staring. The heat of his gaze makes you bite your bottom lip in anticipation. After rummaging for a moment, you finally find what you’re looking for and stand up slowly, making sure to give Logan a lingering view of your curves. The sound of his low groan reaches your ears, sending a thrill through you. You close the closet doors and turn around, carefully hiding the vivid pink, silky handcuffs you picked up along with the lingerie just days ago.

Keeping the handcuffs tucked behind your back, you walk slowly toward him, not quite ready to reveal your little secret yet. As you reach him, you lean down to plant a soft, teasing kiss on his lips. It ends far too quickly for his liking, and a deep grunt escapes his throat as you pull away, leaving him wanting more. Your hand trails lightly from one of his shoulders, across his chest, to the other, the soft touch of your fingers making his skin feel like it's on fire. You can feel the tension radiating off him, his body almost trembling from the contact, as you circle behind him. You know he could moan from just the simple touch, and the thought of having him on edge excites you even more.

You take the handcuffs, the sound of the metal clinking behind him making Logan’s ears perk up. You hook one around his wrist, half-expecting him to protest, but when he remains silent, you continue and secure the other cuff in place. You lift your head to his neck, leaning down to press a soft kiss at his pulse point, making him moan as you finish up behind him. Walking back to face him, you notice a playful smile spread across his face, a look that makes your heart race.

“What?” you ask, mirroring his amused expression, but a sudden wave of self-consciousness washes over you as you realise he’s not taking you seriously at all.

“Nothing, princess,” Logan shrugs, his grin widening. 

You roll your eyes at his nonchalance. “Sure.” Normally, on any other day, Logan would have you pinned beneath him or bent over his knee, spanking you until your skin is flushed and raw. But tonight, he finds it endearing to watch you take charge. So, instead of resisting, he decides to lean into it. In fact, he’s more than willing to let you explore this new dynamic and see just how far you’ll take it.

Then, you lean down and plant a soft kiss just beneath his ear, eliciting a deep groan from him. “Now sit back and watch. Let me take care of you,” you whisper seductively in his ear, your breath warm against his skin. With that, you glide toward the desk, feeling the thrill of anticipation coursing through you as you search for the perfect song to dance to. 

A smile spreads across your face as you finally settle on a track that feels just right. Pressing play, the smooth beats of "Sway" by Majid Jordan fill the room, setting the mood with its sultry rhythm. As the music envelops you, you can sense Logan’s eyes on you, filled with a mix of curiosity and desire. The moment feels electric, and you know it’s time to give him a show he won’t forget.

You stride toward the bed, positioning yourself right in the center of the room, directly in front of him. As the singer begins to croon the lyrics, you let the robe slide down your shoulders, pausing just at your elbows, deliberately teasing him with each movement. Swaying your hips slowly to the beat of the song, you lick your lips, feeling the heat of his gaze on you. 

With each deliberate motion, your hands glide slowly up and down your chest, accentuating your curves as you keep your eyes locked on his. You circle your hips, letting the rhythm guide you, fully aware of the effect it has on him. The air is thick with tension, and you can feel the desire radiating from him, fueling your confidence as you embrace the moment.

Temptation, conversation, I hear what you sayin'~♪ 

You lose yourself to the song as you move your body closer to his, still keeping a good distance between you two. 

“Baby girl, you’re so hot…” Logan groans as his eyes admire your body, his eyes flicking back and forth from one place to the other like he doesn’t know where to look.

Playing safe but we're losing our patience~♪ 

With each sway (literally, like the title of the song) of your hips, you move to the rhythm of the song, feeling the music pulse through you as you notice his gaze tracing the curves of your body, lingering over every dip and contour.

The combination of his awestruck expression and your confident movements sends a thrill through you, urging you to keep going. You enjoy the way he watches, almost hypnotised, as you revel in the moment, fully aware that you’re in control.

Doin' things that my body is cravin'~♪ 

Your fingers wander from your hips to your backside and you squeeze your cheeks softly as you give Logan a show. The moment he sees you touching yourself like this, a low moan escapes his lips, and you can’t help but bite your own in response, revelling in the effect you have on him.

The pleasure of his gaze fuels your confidence, making you feel even more desirable. You relish the way he watches, captivated and hungry for more, as you continue to tease him, lost in the thrill of the moment.

So amazing the way that she moves~♪ She's my favorite dancer~♪ 

Seductively, you slowly turn around, then you sink yourself to the floor. Once on your knees, you crawl steadily towards him. As you’re slowly making your way to him, you’re never breaking eye contact as you smile up at him. 

As you draw closer, you rise up onto your knees, your hands gliding along his ankles and tracing up to his thighs. You gently spread his legs wider, making room for yourself between them. Logan's breath hitches in his throat at your boldness, and you can’t help but smile coyly as you bite your bottom lip, savouring his reaction. 

Your hands continue their journey, moving from his thighs to his hips and then to his waist, feeling the heat radiating off him. Slowly but sensually, you rise in front of him, each movement deliberate, exuding confidence and allure as you prepare to captivate him even further.

“You’re breathtaking…” he moans your name while your lips move to ghost over his lips. You feel and see his squirm against the hold of the handcuffs.

You smirk as you hover your hips over his lap. Using the music to your advantage, you move your body to the rhythm of the song, making sure to emphasise on your movements. Your arms around his neck as you slowly lower your lower body on his lap, sitting down, your heat against his clothed cock straining against his underwear. Pressing your needy and throbbing clit against his dick. His eyes are gazing into yours, all you can see is lust and desire. You grind against his crotch making Logan groan at your movements. Finally you lean down your lips against his, swallowing his moans in your mouth. 

“You’re the prettiest little thing I’ve ever seen.” He whispers breathily against your lips as you continue your little performance, swaying and grinding your hips against his. You hum with a smile before you capture his lips again. 

His mouth moves against yours, slow and passionate. He parts his lips slightly to catch his breath. Your tongue sweeps across Logan’s lips making him gasp, tongue wrapping itself against his a moment later, hot and wet and steady as you taste his mouth and kiss him deeply.

Your tongues slowly swirl and dance against each other as your hands wander all over his body. You feel your core clench around nothing and become even more wet the more you grind against him. You whimper at the feel of him bucking his hips against yours, wrapping your arms around his neck and initiating a hungry kiss. The thong you’re wearing surely ruined by now, clinging against your wet folds.

Soon the music would fade into the background as all you can focus on is him. Logan’s leaning his head forward as much as he can, wanting so badly to grab handfuls of your ass while slipping his tongue into your mouth. He moans into your mouth, biting and sucking on your bottom lip. 

You begin to rock your hips against his, dragging your core over his crotch, the friction sending pleasurable sensations coursing through you. However, a wave of self-consciousness washes over you, leaving you unsure about how to proceed. Despite this uncertainty, you continue the movement, instinctively seeking relief for the ache building in your core. 

Logan notices the hesitation in your movements, his perceptive gaze catching the flicker of insecurity in your eyes. He starts to thrust his hips against yours, urging you on. “Good girl, you can do it,” he says in his low, deep voice, the words igniting a whimper from your lips as you pick up the pace, guiding your hips a bit faster in response. 

“Need you, kitten. Please, I need to feel you. Take these panties off,” he pleads, his tone dripping with desire. You shake your head, refusing to comply, which only draws a chuckle from him as he watches you squirm on top of him.

“I don’t take orders from you. I’ll choose when I want to take them off,” you retort, feeling a thrill of defiance as his eyes wander from your face to your soaked panties. The big wet spot at the front betrays just how much you want his cock filling you up, pushing deep inside and making a mess.

“Just you wait until I’m out of these,” Logan replies, maintaining that boyish smile that makes your heart race. You hardly care about his playful threat; instead, you steady yourself on his shoulders and keep grinding your clit against his clothed cock. He’s right about the panties, but you’re not about to let him dictate the moment. Reaching down, you push the fabric aside, letting your pussy lips glide against him, the contact sending shivers through your body. 

“Oh, kitten,” he moans, captivated by the sight of your arousal dripping down onto his underwear. “Look at you.” His low, sultry voice sends a jolt of pleasure through you, the sensation of his throbbing cock against your wetness nearly overwhelming.

“Feels so fucking good,” you cry out, your eyes squeezing shut as waves of pleasure wash over you.

As the pressure builds toward your orgasm, you suddenly stand up, discarding the delicate lingerie that clings to you. As you’re undressing yourself in front of him he can’t help but growl. You glance at him cautiously, as he stares at you hungrily. You’re longing for him to taste you but feeling a hint of embarrassment about taking the initiative. It’s as if he can read your mind when he says, “Go ahead baby girl, let me taste you.” His encouragement sparks a rush of confidence within you, urging you to take control and fully embrace the moment.

His choice of words only heightens your arousal, making it feel as if he’s the one compelling you to act. Logan's cock is oozing with precum, and you can feel the dampness spreading on his underwear as you hook a leg over his shoulder, bringing yourself closer to him. 

You stretch a bit uncomfortably in this position, but any discomfort fades away the moment he leans forward and licks from your entrance to the top of your clit. 

A loud moan escapes you as his warm, wet tongue finally makes contact with your pussy. You sigh into the sensation, your eyes fluttering shut as you tangle your fingers in his hair, anchoring yourself as you urge him deeper. His tongue glides up your folds, skillfully exploring your puffy lips, occasionally pausing to plant soft kisses on your clit. He encircles your clit and sucks, pulling whimpering pleas from your mouth.

Logan groans against you, sending delicious vibrations coursing through your body as you tug on his hair, lost in the pleasure. You find yourself grinding your hips forward, desperately seeking more contact as your arousal drips down into his beard.

“That’s it, good girl, use my fuckin’ mouth,” he moans against you, taking your clit between his lips and sucking gently. He alternates between sucking it in and releasing it, the repetitive motion making your head spin. “Taste so good.”

“Fuck, Lo—” you whine as you grind yourself against his lips.

Each flick and tug sends you spiralling, and you begin to whine, yearning for his large fingers to fill your tight little hole. Frustration simmers beneath the surface as you slip deeper into that precious sub headspace, becoming acutely aware of his restrained hands. Logan picks up on your shift in mood immediately.

“Please, Lo,” you cry out, desperation lacing your voice. You need him so badly it borders on painful.

“Please, what?” he retorts, then dives his tongue into your clenching hole, making you gasp. He groans, fucking your little pussy with his tongue, his nose brushing tantalizingly over your clit. “This is what you wanted, ain’t that right?” 

“F-fuck, ah, I’m gonna c-cum,” you gasp, urgency spilling from your lips instead of a question. The relentless contact of his nose against your sensitive clit pushes you to the edge, and your pussy contracts around his tongue, releasing a wave of pleasure. You scream his name repeatedly, tugging at his hair with a mix of urgency and desperation, your ears ringing as the world around you fades into bliss, unaware of the metal cuffs breaking free.

You can feel his hands on your skin, the heat of your orgasm squirting out of you, painting his mouth beautifully as he continues to feast on your cunt. You breathe heavily as Logan moans loudly at the sweet taste of you, feeling both blissed out and utterly exposed.

You’re still coming down from your high when suddenly, you yelp in surprise as he lifts you with ease, your trembling legs instinctively wrapping around his body. In one fluid motion, Logan throws you onto the bed, and a whine escapes your lips as you feel the familiar neediness surge within you, your pussy so slick and wanting for more.

He pulls his boxers down, letting his erection finally spring free. Logan’s thick and big cock is so hard, dripping with precum and you almost whimper at the sight of it. He then makes his way up to the bed. Situating himself between your legs he smiles deviously. 

Oh—

“Get on your hands and knees for me, kitten. I’ll show you who’s in control.” 

Your cheeks flare up furiously at his request, you feel your body trembling with excitement as you flip on your stomach, getting on your hands and knees, your face down on the mattress as you raise your ass in the air for him. Logan groans when you wiggle for him, spreading your legs a bit more for him exposing more of your pussy.

You bite your bottom lip and can’t help getting even more aroused as you think about finally having him inside.

“Such a pretty pussy, baby. All dripping wet for me,” he whispers to you and you feel his fingers sliding up and down your slit and then opening your folds for him to see.

You wanted to tell him how he’s the only one that can do this to you, how much you love him, but then he grabs both of your ass cheeks in his hands, parting them as he quickly leans down and licks up your exposed pussy, catching you completely by surprise making you almost fall on the bed, your arms almost giving out on you.

You feel your inner walls clenching around nothing as he keeps licking up and down and sucking on your clit. When you whine, his tongue swirls around your entrance.

“F-fuck, s-so sensitive. Da-daddy please, oh—”

But then he pulls his lips away from your lower ones and you whimper desperately at the loss of the feeling of his tongue, only to have him kiss your lower back and up your spine, hands sliding up and down your body.

“Please,” you whine pathetically.

You can't see it, but he's smiling down at you, shaking his head as he revels in his victory over the battle for control. “What happened, baby? Suddenly you need my help?”

You shake your head yes rapidly, not caring how desperate you look. “Please, please, I’ll be good for you, please. I’ll be your good girl.” 

“I thought you wanted to be in control,” he pokes fun at you, his hips not touching as he places soft kisses down your back. You wish he was fucking into you already. You start to whine when you feel his thumb press into your clit. He doesn’t move it at all, just applies slight pressure and lets it rest there. “But you need your daddy, don’t you? You need me so badly. Pathetic little kitty.” 

“I-I do,” you gasp, frustrated by his unmoving thumb. Your body is trembling in anticipation. “Please daddy.” 

A moment later you feel him grind his thick cock against your dripping heat, you’re aching for him to fill you up. A loud moan fills the room along with your whines, with a strong grip on your hips a second later he eases the tip inside, making you gasp as your whole body trembles. 

“Please…” You whine desperately as you feel him halt his movements, a small portion of the tip only inside you. Wiggling your hips you try to push back against him but the strong hold that he has on you makes it hard for you to move.

“Patience baby girl,”

You whimper as he finally slides more and more of his thickness inside of you. You squeeze your eyes tightly as he fills you up. The pressure of his cock deep within your walls overwhelms you while you clutch the sheets below you in tight fists.

“Take it, princess. Take daddy’s cock.”

Then his massive cock is completely splitting you open. Logan thrusts his whole length into you, black dots cover your vision at the feeling of it. Your pussy pulses around him as you struggle to adjust to his size.

“Ah, fuck!” Tears are already dripping down your face onto the mattress. His cock is so big, long and hard and he makes your pussy and tummy feel so full of him. 

You whimper at the new angle, struggling to accommodate his impressive girth. It feels as though your pussy can never fully adjust to his size. As your walls squeeze around him, trying to adapt, Logan uses more force to push deeper, stretching you further. The sensation is intense, almost overwhelming, as it feels like you’re being torn open, split in half by his thickness.

“Oh, sweet girl. I’ve got you,” he soothes and starts moving, fucking you at an impossible pace. The sound of your ass slapping against him fills the room along with both of your frantic moans. His heavy balls are hitting against your clit with every thrust. The feeling is heaven on earth. 

All you can answer with are moans as they slip off your lips. Your mind goes blank as all you can do is focus on the feel of him stretching you, filling you up, so overwhelmed with bliss already. He thrusts deeper inside you, earning whines and moans as you continue to cry out his name. You try to tell Logan, breathlessly, about how good he makes you feel. The sound of your pleasure fuels his desire to fuck you better, urging him to do more. Logan picks up his pace, thrusting into you quicker, harder, hitting the spot that has your body going numb.

You claw at the sheets, burying your face into the mattress to muffle your screams. The air is all stuffy around you as his hips move faster, you whine as you try to push back your hips against his to take more of his thick cock. He moans at the sight, kneading your ass as he tries to bury himself more inside you, the tip hitting your cervix instantly. Your eyes roll back inside your head as you dig your fingers more into the bed, you mewl against the sheets at the overwhelming pleasure he’s giving you.

“F-fuck fuck fuck, this feels so goooohhhood daddy, p-please more…”

“Yeah? You love being filled with all of my cock don’t you?” He grunts as he slaps your ass once, making you cry out in pleasure. Your moans grow louder with each movement, blending with the slick sounds of your pussy meeting his dick over and over again. The sounds mix along with the little noises of pleasure escaping your mouth. 

“Does that feel good, pretty girl?” Logan asks as he leans down his body closer to yours making him hit your cervix repeatedly. You whimper and tremble underneath him as you nod, he moans against your ear as he whispers close to you. “Does it feel good? That I’m fucking you like this? Just the way you like it.”

“Yes, daddy. Fuck, please… Can I please cum?” you ask this time, completely out of breath. 

“No, you little brat,” Logan growls, picking up the pace even more. He grabs you by your hair, jerks your head up and pulls you back towards him. “Patience.” 

The delicious thrusts of his cock don’t falter as he presses your back into his chest. He wraps a strong hand around your throat, and the other arm holds you steady by the waist. 

“I can’t, I can’t,” you whimper repeatedly, your body trembling with need.

“Oh, I know you can,” he says aggressively. “I know you fuckin’ can. And you will.” 

He grinds his hips in circles, and you nearly scream from the overwhelming sensation. You desperately try to hold back the orgasm that's building rapidly, clenching your pussy tightly around his thick cock. He lets out deep moans at the feeling of you, fully aware that he’s close to cumming but wanting to savour your pussy for just a little longer. Logan slows his pace slightly, giving both of you a brief moment to catch your breath before he picks up the rhythm again, quick and rough.

“Look so pretty when you’re stretched around my cock, fuck, bet you look pretty full of my cum too.” Logan cursed when you purposefully tighten your walls around him. “I’m gonna fill this pussy up, kitten, make it all nice and full,” he promises.

The head of his cock rubs against your walls deliciously, snapping you out of your small daze as you nod frantically. “Yes, yesyes please. Fill me up daddy!” You’re whimpering with every thrust of his cock. 

“Tell me who’s in control and I’ll let you cum,” he says slowly into your ear, grip around your throat tightening a bit and making the feeling that more intense.

“You, Lo,” you manage to get out, “Always you.”

“Cum on my cock then,” Logan gives you permission. Another few thrusts is all it takes to send you over the edge, shouting out his name as your ears ring from the pressure. You’re on cloud nine as you let your body relax and feel the brutal pounding of his cock. It drags inside of you so perfectly, hitting every sweet spot you have. Your needy cunt is clenching, throbbing, and milking his cock while you cum all over him.  Logan groans in your ear as your walls spasm around his cock, milking him for his orgasm, desperate for him to fill you up the way he promised. “This pussy was made for me. So fuckin’ tight wrapped around me.” 

Your cum drips down both of your legs, coating his cock and balls, quickly forming a wet spot on the sheets beneath you. As the waves of your orgasm wash over you, Logan talks you through it, whispering dirty nothings in your ear. He gasps as you pulse around him, desperate for him to spill his load inside you, needing to witness him fall apart.

“Ah, shit—” he rasps, thrusting deeper, the bulbous head of his cock hitting your cervix with delicious force. “Are you going to take my cum like a good girl? Let me fill you up until you’re a messy little thing, hm?”

You shiver at his words, your mouth dropping open in awe as you close your eyes, completely lost in the sensation, nodding eagerly. “Please, please.”

Moments later, you feel him unravel against you, and soon his cum starts to shoot deep inside you. 

“Fuck, just like that,” he breathes, his voice thick with pleasure. “Such a good baby girl.”

As his thrusts come to a complete stop, he pulls out of you, and you let your body fall limp against the mattress, feeling utterly drained. Soon Logan wraps an arm around you, effortlessly spinning you around to pull you against his chest. He kisses you softly, and you moan at the taste of yourself still on his lips. As he pulls away, he gazes down at you with soft eyes and a charming smile, the warmth of the moment enveloping you both.

“Sorry for ruining your little plan,” Logan teases gently, a playful glint in his eyes.

“No, that’s okay,” you reply quickly, smiling up at him. “I figured I’d give it a try… but I feel like I’m not that great at it.”

He shakes his head, leaning closer. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, sweet girl. That was so fuckin' hot. In fact, I might want you to try it again.”

“Yeah?” you ask, your eyes brightening at his praise.

He nods, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Maybe next time, I can teach you a thing or two about taking control.”

“Really?” You smile happily, your fingers running through his messy dark hair. 

“Mhm,” he hums, his heart swelling at your excitement.

Biting your lip bashfully, you shrug, looking up at him with a shy smile. “I much prefer having you in control, though.”

“That so?” Logan smirks mischievously, his hands beginning to wander all over your body, reigniting the familiar heat between you.

“Yes, you’re so hot when you’re dominant,” you giggle, leaning up to cover Logan’s face with playful kisses.

“Oh, just when I’m dominant?” he teases, smirking down at you with a playful glint in his eyes.

“Logan, you know what I mean!” you pout, continuing to pepper kisses all over his face. “You’re always hot!”

Logan chuckles, his deep voice vibrating through you as he gently cups your cheeks with both hands, trying to capture your lips. Once he does, he presses a series of quick, light pecks against your mouth, grinning widely. You giggle against him, the sound filling the space between you both as he keeps chasing your lips, clearly enjoying the lighthearted moment.

“I love you so much, baby. You mean everything to me,” Logan murmurs against your lips, his voice low and full of emotion. You wrap your arms around his back, pulling him closer as his warmth surrounds you. 

With a gentle roll, Logan shifts your bodies, laying you down so your back sinks into the softness of the blankets and pillows. His lips never leave yours as you feel yourself getting lost in the kiss, his hands still cradling your face, his thumb brushing tenderly across the skin under your eyes. 

“You’re everything to me too, Lo,” you whisper, your voice soft and full of affection, a smile tugging at your lips. “I love you.”

You’re both basking in each other’s presence, the quiet intimacy between you settling into something warm and peaceful. The earlier rush of passion has given way to a serene calmness, where even the soft rhythm of your breaths seems to sync together. Logan’s fingers trace idle patterns on your skin, and you feel completely at ease, wrapped in his embrace. 

Then, just as you’re lulled into this tranquil moment, you notice a familiar gleam of mischief in Logan’s eyes. His hands slowly slide down to your hips, fingers pressing lightly against your skin in a way that sends a subtle thrill through you. He caresses you slowly, and the soft strokes make your body stir. 

With a playful grin, he leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he murmurs, “Another round?” His voice is teasing but full of intent, a promise of what’s to come. You feel the shift in his energy, playful yet laced with the kind of desire that tells you he’s far from finished with you tonight. 

“Logan!” you giggle, giving him a playful push, but he only grins wider. In a swift motion, he pulls you close again, silencing your laughter with a deep, passionate kiss. Your playful giggles soon turn into soft, breathy moans as his hands roam your body, and yours do the same, tracing the familiar lines of his muscles.

The night unfolds in a tangle of kisses and wandering hands, the air between you charged with love and desire. Every touch, every kiss, is a reminder of the bond you share, and the passion between you feels endless. The world fades away, and all that remains is Logan. His touch, his gaze, and the warmth of his presence pull you in, leaving you completely lost in him.

thank you for reading <3 mwah

[arcadia-of-pluto]

Casually calling them "daddy" LADS

Word count; 1,913

Themes; slightly barely there suggestive content, fluff, established relationship

Warnings; mention of "daddy" ofc, fluff

Notes; So these turned out more fluffy than I originally intended...honestly, thought they'd be more smutty, but I've learnt that it's really difficult for me to write smut. Or at least, smut with little to no context before it all goes down. I might eventually write some smuttier drabbles, but regardless of smut, I hope you enjoy this little thing I wrote!

You saw that there was an old trend about calling your boyfriend “daddy” and videoing their reaction so, obviously, you wanted to give it a try…

Xavier 

It's been almost a year since you and Xavier started dating– and it was a wonderful eleven months! He told you everything about himself. What his future with you was like, all of his feelings throughout the centuries, and you listened. You wholeheartedly believed him, because it would be one hell of a lie if it wasn't true…and you didn't think Xavier had the time or energy to come up with a complex lie like that. 

But even if you now know, time moves on. There's not much you can do about your future self, so you can't really change the future in that way though…Xavier's here now, in the past, and that's all that matters to you. 

Anyway, today was just a normal day as any. 

You were sitting at the counter, keeping a close eye on Xavier– who was attempting to follow, yet another, cooking tutorial. The man was desperate to cook a decent meal for you. His heart dead set on making you something edible for your upcoming year anniversary…and while that was cute, you also wanted to mess with him. 

You push your cup just out of your reach and make a big show of trying to reach for it, before sighing loudly. 

“Daddy, can you pass me my drink please?” 

You can hear the clang of a spatula hitting the floor and you watch Xavier’s body comically whip around to face you. 

“What?” His head cocks to the side as his wide eyes were set on your face. “Say that again..”

“Hmm? I said ‘Xav, can you pass me my drink, please’.” You copy his head tilt and he quickly shakes his head.

 “No, no you didn't.” He takes a few steps toward you before grabbing your hand in-between both of his. “Say it again.” 

You couldn't resist his sweet puppy dog eyes, so you hold back a smile as you meet his eyes. “I...called you daddy.” 

“Really?” He seems unusually excited. “So are we…?” His gaze lowers to your stomach and you can’t help the giggle that slips from your lips. 

Gosh, he was so cute. 

“Baby– no, no. We're not pregnant.” You run your fingers through his hair with a smile on your lips. “Are...you disappointed?” 

“Mmh..” Xavier hums thoughtfully for a moment before he shakes his head. “No. We can just make it a reality later. No need to rush.” 

Zayne 

You and Zayne have only been dating for six months, but it felt like much longer. Having known each other since you were little, you both had always been close– well, your definition of close and his were probably different. You always thought of him as a friend while he tried to keep a distance and thought you hated him. But time brought you both back together with him as your primary care physician. 

The two of you had been flirting up until his birthday and finally made it official once he blew his candles out on the cake you made for him. It was a sweet time, but that was six months ago. 

Now, though, you really want to fluster the man. 

He always embarrasses you and makes you feel nervous, but you never get to see him that way. Sure, his ears will turn red and sometimes he won't meet your eyes when you get too intense with him, but you've never seen him absolutely shocked. And you just wanted to see one look of surprise from him. 

So, what did you decide to do? 

You decided to casually call him "daddy” as a joke.

That should definitely go over well. 

Zayne is seated behind his desk at the hospital, sorting through papers as you longue on his sofa. Your eyes continuously glancing toward the windows to make sure the door was shut and the blinds were closed. 

“If you keep staring at the door, you just might burn a hole through it.” Zayne says, though he didn't even look up from his paperwork. He was attentive like that and probably already knew you wanted something or you were ready to go home. And he was right. 

“When are we going home…daddy?” You ask as you kick your feet in the air behind you. You were on your stomach, resting your cheek against your arms as you watched his expression…which didn't change at all. 

"Just give me a few more minutes, angel, and I'll be done.” Zayne pushes his glasses up with his index finger and clicks his pen, jotting down a few notes. 

“I–” You puff your cheeks out with a small sigh and decide to keep going with it. “I want to go home now, daddy.”

“Didn't I just tell you to be patient?” Now Zayne finally looks up at you with one of his brows raised. “I'll deal with you when we get home.” 

Rafayel 

It's been four months since Rafayel asked you out. Four months since you tugged Rafayel down into the bath with you, which set off a chain reaction of a steamy night, followed by him asking you out the next morning; he also complained that you both went out of order, but he wasn’t too upset when you continued where you left off…

Now, though, you moved out of your apartment and to Rafayel's home, ‘Mo Art Studio’ at Whitesand Bay. 

It was definitely odd at first, but it was a good change of pace. Always being by the ocean, able to take your morning walks together on the beach and collect seashells. You had a whole collection on your desk at work. He'd always give you the most unique and prettiest shells, saying “only the best for his cutie”. 

He was also so easy to fluster. 

You immediately knew you had him wrapped around your finger every time his ears would turn red. That same crimson slowly made its way from his ears to his cheeks, all the way to his whole face. So you assumed your little ‘prank’ would also have the same effect. 

You were sitting on a beach towel in the sand with an umbrella blocking your eyes from the bright sun. In front of you was Rafayel, painting your visage, with an easel. His hand deftly moves across the canvas as he sketches the outline for his new painting. 

Lately, you are the only thing he can paint. Always asking you to stop what you're doing so he can run and get his sketch pad. You could be doing something so normal and mundane, but he'd be struck with the inspiration to record your very image. 

As much as you loved it and thought this was very sweet, after almost two weeks of this…You wanted some form of payback. 

“Hey, daddy, can we take a break for a second? It’s really hot out here.” You squint your eyes to try and see Rafayel's face, your hand fanning at your body because you, seriously, are hot out here. 

“Huh?” 

It's like Rafayel is frozen in time, or buffering. He's just blankly staring at you with a confused expression on his face until his pencil drops into the sand. That's when he quickly stands up  and makes his way toward you. 

“Again.” 

Now, it's your turn to be confused. 

“Raf, what–” 

“Not that, say the other word again.” His ears were red as he crouched down in front of you, a look of determination in his eyes. 

“No– you're making it weird!” You put your hands on his shoulders, trying to put some distance between him as your face turns red. 

“Please, I really need to hear you say it again! I'm seriously going to die if you don't.” There's your overdramatic fishy. 

“Fine, but just this once.” You grumble, turning your head to look away from him. “Daddy…” Though you say it as low as you can and Rafayel groans, tilting his head back. 

“Louder.” He rests his forehead against yours. “Come on, cutie. If you don't…I might want to change that to my new nickname.”

Sylus

It's been about…a year? Yes, definitely a year since you and Sylus started dating. Well, you both have differing opinions on when exactly you started dating. Sylus claims it was the moment he laid eyes on you in the N109 Zone, while you claim it was only about six months ago– which is when you and Sylus made a bet. 

It was a bet where if he came back safely from his mission, he'd leave you alone. He wouldn't bother you anymore, wouldn't talk to you, contact you, anything of the sort…and you won, but you didn't realize he'd actually do it. So whenever you seeked him out to make sure he was safe, and he ignored you, you realized that maybe you did want him in your life. 

This led to you running across the street to him and jumping into his arms like this was a hallmark movie, and you claim this was when you officially started dating Sylus.

But between us, you just agree with Sylus when he says a year, because if you don't, he'll pout for the whole day. 

...And today was one of those ‘pouty Sylus’ days. 

You went on a mission that was probably way too dangerous, even though you told Sylus you were going to slow down on your Hunter's work. But you couldn't just ignore endangered civilians. If any of them would have died, that would've been too much for your sympathetic heart to handle. 

And even if Sylus understands your reasoning, he's still upset that you left without telling him– having woken up to a cold bed without you by his side sent him spiraling into a panic. 

So, when you got home, you noticed he was sulking in the kitchen as he made dinner. 

“Sy…” You take your shoes off by the door, nervously fiddling with your fingers as you tentatively walk into the kitchen. Standing behind the counter, you sigh, “I'm reeaally sorry...” 

“If you're reeaaally sorry, then help me make our dinner.” He says, not looking up at you and that doesn't make you feel any better. 

“Okay..” You finally step past the counter and you look around. “So…what do you need?” You were trying to figure out something– anything that could make Sylus feel better when a thought comes to your mind. 

Most guys probably like it when their girlfriend calls them daddy…right? 

“In the cabinet, top shelf. I need a bottle of garlic powder.” 

Okay, you got this. 

You take a deep breath and open the cabinet, straining your arm to try and reach the seasoning bottle, but your fingertips barely brush it and knock it over. “Shit…” You swallow back your nervousness before continuing, “Daddy, can you grab it for me?” 

The room fills with silence for a moment, but then you hear Sylus chuckle. 

“Sure, kitten.” 

Your back suddenly feels warm as a firm chest presses against it and Sylus reaches up from behind you to grab the bottle. 

“I ask you to do one simple thing and you can't even do that.” Sylus chides, clicking his tongue as he pops the bottle open to pour some into the pan on the stove. 

“Da–”

“If you think a few empty words will make me feel better, kitten…you've got to try a lot harder than that.” 

I'd like to say, this is definitely one of my better drabbles– one of my favorites, in fact!

I have like...six more ideas for drabbles and then I'll need to come up with some more. Like these new cards and Rafayel's student photoshoot event really had me thinking of how seriously the LADS men would take roleplaying– and that spawned a whole different drabble idea, so you can definitely look forward to that!

I'm trying to come up with new ways to do my drabbles, so that's why I did a little prelude before I started writing for the guys. Please let me know any feedback yall have for me! Especially with the coloured dialogue, I'm not too sure if I like it, but it seems really pretty and probably makes it easier to tell who is talking apart. (I won't use it for my fic though, only the drabbles!)

Anyway, I have a small personal project I'm working on this weekend so I probably won't be able to write any chapters for my 'Divisa' fic, but I'm still going to post chapter nineteen of 'Twist of Fate' and try to write at least two more chapters since I'm only on twenty-three or so.

I hope you all enjoyed these drabbles and I hope yall have a great night/day! 🩷

[roguerambles]

I understand the disappointment, I really do, but I think people might be blowing the whole world state thing a bit out of proportion. "This is SPITTING IN THE FACE of long-time fans" no it's not Steve, calm down.

The series has always had to compromise when it comes to the state of the world because so many of the choices (especially from the end of Origins) were so wildly different that trying to build a sequel from so many conflicting factors would be more or less impossible. It's why we've never seen the Architect again, because him being alive or dead has HUGE ripple effects that are damn near impossible to write around.

Heck, it was entirely possible for Anders to die at the end of Awakening, but the writers wrote around it by saying "oh no he actually faked his death" even though logically that made very little sense because at that point he'd have absolutely no reason to do that? But Anders was in the sequel so that had to come up with something.

Basically nothing from Dragon Age 2 was important in Inquisition - Hawke siding with Mages or Templars made no difference, Anders being alive or dead made no difference, whether Carver or Bethany were dead or Wardens or whatever made no difference. We got some flavour text and that was literally it, everything else played out exactly the same.

Hell, the Temple of Sacred Ashes gets blown to bits at the beginning of Inquisition, rendering everything to do with that quest from Origins basically moot. And we've never gone back to Orzammar, and everything we have heard from it has been kept super vague, because depending on who the King is and if Branka is still alive things would look WILDLY different. Crafting a new story there would be borderline impossible because the dozen different possible world states make the foundation shaky at best.

It's why I highly doubt we'll be able to side with Solas and help him tear down the Veil because that would result in basically a whole new world being created. Imagine them trying to make Dragon Age 5 and being like "okay 50% sided with Solas and tore the Veil down and 50% kept the Veil intact....wtf now what do we do--?"

Again, I understand the disappointment, but I just hope once the dust has settled and people calm down a bit they'll see that, realistically, very little has changed. Your saves are still there, your experiences and enjoyment of the games and the characters and the story are still there, but they were always gonna have to draw the line SOMEWHERE.

And that's not to say none of our previous choices will come back - if we get another game, or a spin off or something they'll probably do what they're doing with the Inquisitor now. They're just taking what's relevant to the story they are trying to tell, and leaving what they aren’t going to use presently ambiguous.

[sweetestcaptainhughes]

Moments in Time - Luke Hughes Edition

Word Count - 3000

Summary - The eight times Luke Hughes showed his love through the ring camera that he didn’t even want in the first place.

Warnings - none pure fluff I know a true shocker if you aren't new here

Author's Note - Hello everyone as always thank you for reading. This is apart of a "Moments in Time" series that I wrote eight moments each of the Hughes brothers. The fics are individual stand alone pieces, they can be read in any order, or you could only read the one brother you want.

Quinn Hughes Edition. Jack Hughes Edition.

I have to give credit to my girl Kay @icebound-imagination for not only helping come up with the original idea! But literally stayed up late one night to help me detail plan all three Hughes brothers fics because I didn't want any repeated ideas.

Main Masterlist

Luke couldn't care less about wanting a ring camera. Both of his brothers had them and he really didn’t care. Now since he moved out of Jack’s apartment and into yours it’s a different story. He no longer has a nice fancy lobby with a mailroom. When a package comes it comes to his doorstep. This year Luke has been stepping up his fashion game (his words not yours) and buying some new items for his closet. Now to Luke, a $300 shirt might not seem like a lot but to a normal human being it was. 

Luke wasn’t concerned about packages being taken form your doorstep until you told him about your neighbor. When you first moved into your apartment a few years ago, your neighbor warned you about how some of his packages had been stolen and to be care. Literally nothing has happened in the three years you’ve had your apartment but you still did mention it to Luke. Once Luke heard about how packages were taken (even though none of them were yours) he was texting his brothers asking for a link to the one they had. Now you, on the other hand, wanted a ring camera because Quinn and Jack’s girlfriends were telling you how much fun it is to mess with the boys on the ring camera. So you decided you kind of wanted to join the fun and get one.The ring camera was totally worth it to both of you within six months with just all the ‘little mundane moments’ it caught on camera. 

Don’t forget the brownie bark!

Luke knew you were leaving to go to the store and instead of sending you a simple text, his lazy ass decided to yell at you through the ring. It scared the shit out of all of a sudden you heard Luke’s voice but knew he was on his way to the gym. 

“BABY! DON’T forget my brownie bark at the store! Please!” 

Once you registered that it was in fact Luke’s voice and it was coming from the ring camera you turned your body towards the camera. 

“What do you mean?? You still have all of that moose tracks dairy free ice cream I brought you because “I can’t do dairy during the season’ plus all those pretzels and everything else???” A small sigh leaving your lips before Luke can even reply because you already know what he’s going to say.

“Yeah but I’m not in the mood for those things anymore… maybe next week but this week I want the brownie bark you get from Costco.” he softly whined as he contonied to beg for his snack.

“Fine! But listen Hughes you have to finish this snack before I buy anything else because your literally taking up some much cabinet space and we have a small kitchen.”

“Deal.” he immediately and excitingly says before he rushes a goodbye and leaves the ring app. A soft sigh leaves your mouth as you head down the hallway to the elevator to go to the store

2.I hate you right now

Okay you didn’t really hate Luke you were just upset that he happened to have ordered a new gaming chair which came in the most awkward huge sized box. He told you he ordered it three weeks ago and it should be here before he has to go on his seven day west coast roadie. Of course it wasn’t, you dropped him off an hour ago and decided to get some errands done before returning home. Of course, it was just your luck that when you got home there would be a gigantic probably 100 lb perfectly cubed box that was definitely Luke’s new gaming chair. Deciding to go inside and set your things down and send Luke a text before dealing with the box.

Lukeyboo:

Guess what was here when i got home 🙄🙄

My love:

Is it my chair?? 👀

Lukeyboo:

Yes 

And its a fucking huge box by the way I don’t know how I’m gonna lift it. 

Gonna go try to attempt now

By the time you made it back to the hallway of your apartment building Luke greeted you on the ring camera. “Hi baby, I’m here for emotional support.” he says teasingly and even though you can’t see him you know he has a huge smile on his face. Making it a point to make an annoyed face at the camera, making sure he knows how the universe seemed to time this perfectly for you. Looking down you decide that it’s probably easiest to shuffle the box inside your apartment. Trying to move the box an inch but it doesn’t budge. 

“Baby try using your legs not your arms.” Luke comments

“Oh wow. Why didn’t I think of that?” you say in a duh tone.

“Sorry I’ll stop mansplaining.” Immediately apologizing for trying to tell you how to move the box. Finally your able to move it a little and Luke cheers as a result. But then of course you continue to struggle for the next ten minutes. 

“You know I really hate you right now.” you say loud enough for the ring to pick it up. 

“I love and appreciate you too.” he responds without a second thought knowing you're just annoyed because of how oddly shaped the box is and Luke would have already had it in spare bedroom by now. “If it makes you feel better I think your hot when you're flustered” he admits.

“Hmmm” is the only response your willing to give him. Finally after what feels like forever but is probably only 3 minutes you get it in the door. Luke cheers through the camera. “Oh and I hope you know it’s staying right but the front door for you when you get home.” 

Luke lets out a chuckle as he admits “I wouldn’t expect anything else. Love you, miss you already baby.”

“Ugh I love you too, text me when you land.”

“Always” and he stays on the app until he hears you close the apartment door. 

3. Why are you acting like this as adults?

One thing that you loved about Luke was how truly close he was with his brothers. It really did make you happy that he was able to live his dream of playing on the same team as his older brother Jack. But being brothers even if both were in their early twenties they still acted like brothers. They were both stubborn as could be and competitive with each other. At times it can be cute, but even Nico told on one roadie they had to ban the brothers from playing soccer before their game because their fighting became too much.  

So it was no shocker when you were in the kitchen in the middle of cooking dinner in your apartment, and heard both the boys yelling as they were coming down the hallway. It’s one thing to hear Jack because he is naturally a louder person, but when you heard Luke also raising his voice and some thudding of the walls you decided to check the ring camera. Honestly, you weren’t sure to be surprised by their behavior of straight up wrestling in your tiny little narrow hallway apartment or a little disappointed in yourself that you were surprised by their behavior. 

Since the hallway was so narrow, you really didn't want one of them to accidentally get injured, even if it was minor due to them being idiots. Especially since it wouldn’t be hard to knock your head on the wall and accidentally get a concussion and then they would be out for at least a game. So you decided to yell at them through the camera to make them stop. “Boys I know that isn’t the Hughes brothers being idiots wrestling like some children?!” 

Immediately the noises stop and you smile to yourself. Knowing your boyfriend you knew that he was probably embarrassed but your suspensions were confirmed when you heard him say “sorry baby” before Jack muttered out his own apologies. 

But then within a few seconds you heard another thud and you sighed as you clicked the speak button on your phone. “That better not be you all again, now knock it off or I swear I will treat you like my nephews and take video games away for the night.” Honestly, you didn’t count it but you're pretty sure within a minute the boys were inside, and in the kitchen kissing up to you knowing damn well you would take the video games away.

4. Take Out

Luke was on one of those rare long roadies that was closer to a week and two time zones away rather than a quick 72 hours down the east coast. All roadies were hard, but somehow the ones that were in different time zones and longer than an extended weekend felt more real. It was almost like if he was gone for the 2 days it didn’t matter, but when it was hitting the fourth day of his roadie missing Luke turned into what felt like longing for him. Craving anything that would help you feel closer to Luke, on your way home that night you picked up pizza from his favorite place. Lately you’ve been leaving little messages occasionally for him when he’s away. Since missing him felt like it was slowly consuming you, you couldn’t help but leave one on your way inside your apartment. 

“Hi Lukey, we are at the halfway mark of this roadie. I miss you so much, I got the pizza from that place you like, just like you like it. With all the papers, and even olives, even though I hate olives, picking them off might make it seem like your home. Love you, good luck tonight against the Kings.”

When Luke watched that video he texted you that he also missed you and he loved you. That was the first time on a roadie in his entire life he ever wished he was home with you instead of where he was.

5. It was your turn Luke!

Finally getting home after a long day at work and walking into your apartment, sighing with content. After changing out of your work clothes into some sweats, you decide you should start dinner before you take a shower and get ready for Luke’s home game tonight. But as you walk into the kitchen you see in the corner the trash overflowing. Immediately you find yourself annoyed at Luke because he promised he would take it out before he left and it was not only overflowing but also started to smell. Deciding ultimately that you need to take the trash out before you make yourself a quick dinner. 

As you tie up the bag and carry it to the front door, throw on some of Luke’s crocs by the door since you're only going outside for two minutes to deal with the trash. Still very annoyed at Luke you can’t help but ring the doorbell so he gets a notification. 

“LUKE YOU PROMISED. Remember how you said you’d do it before you left but of course you forgot again.” Sighing again you say in a calmer but still very annoyed voice “it’s fine cause I’m doing now but it made the whole kitchen smell, Lukey. I might be late to the game cause I’m gonna burn a candle in the kitchen now” Finally walking away to deal with the trash, the clip ends because ‘movement in front of camera has ended.’

Luke sees the notification while he’s walking into the stadium and his arrival photos are ruined because he’s all red and blushy because you scolded him for forgetting about the trash again. Turns out, you do make it to the game but after puck drop. Luke sees you make your way to your normal seat, always claiming the game didn’t feel as real in the WAGs suite. He happened to skate past your seat to get ready for a power play, when you saw him. He mouths “I’m sorry” as he takes his hand to chest to sign in ASL as well, something that both of you started using while he’s playing. He signs a quick “I love you” before the whistle blows and he’s focused back on the game.

6. First Roadie far away

This wasn’t his first roadie by any means, Luke has been playing hockey his entire life. He has gone on countless roadies from his USA Hockey days to UMitch, hell even his rookie year. But this was the first roadie far away enough that you couldn’t travel to his game since you started living together. This gave the idea of roadies a whole new light. He suddenly wasn’t excited to travel to a new city, play his favorite game and explore a new city, not when you were home in Hoboken. He can’t help himself from turning around and saying goodbye in the camera. Watching it later you could tell that he was truly sad and not pretending as a joke. Sniffling with his suitcase behind him dressed in a nice suit. 

“I love you sweetie, I’ll call you when I land. I kinda don’t wanna go… DON’T tell anyone that!” He signs I love you with his right hand. He starts to walk away and you expect the camera to cut out, but then he comes running back. He gets super close to the camera, like you can really just see one eye, his nose and mouth. “BABY! Please don’t kill the plants! I know you think you’ve done really good this time keeping them alive this long. But the truth is I’ve been watering them for you because I didn’t wanna see you cry after killing another African Violet. Which also I googled and it’s almost impossible to do so your kind of the best at being the killer of plants. Okay gotta go before I’m late I love you.”

7. I’ll buy you a new cupcake 

Luke decided as a treat for himself that he would get himself just one cupcake from both of your favorite bakeries. There was only one left from the 6 pack you had in the fridge from last week.  It was his treat to himself for not having any other cheat meals this week, which is shocking because as you know that boy is ALWAYS eating! Luke also needed to go to the dry cleaners before they closed in 20 minutes. Deciding that he didn’t wanna wait until he got home he ate it on his way out the door. 

Of course Lukes luck, the movement in front of the ring was enough for a notification to be sent out. Immediately as Luke is still chewing the cupcake, your voice comes blaring from the speaker. 

“LUKE WARREN HUGHES! I KNOW you’re not eating the last cupcake. That you SAID WE’D SHARE WHEN I GOT HOME TONIGHT!” Okay so Luke forgot the other day you wanted to eat it and he begged you not to and that you would share it today, whoops. 

“I promise I will buy you some on my way home, I’m sorry baby” Just a mumble of acknowledgement was the only thing that left your mouth. 

One week later:

Turns out the same thing happened, Luke and you promised that if both of you didn’t have any cheat meals and stayed to your health routine. Both of you could share the last cupcake. Well this time it was you that ate the cupcake. Luke was very much a pouty mess about it when he walked into the kitchen and saw the container on top of the trash can. Hearing your full name in one breath out of Luke’s mouth, you winced realizing what happened. Except instead of angry Luke comes to you on the couch, face full of pout, and puppy eyes truly sad that he couldn’t have the treat he was looking forward to for days because you ate it with your lunch this afternoon. 

“I’m sorry Lukey” opening your opens and immediately he flops into them. 

“I really wanted it!” he pouted.

“I know. I am sorry I’ll buy you more tomorrow okay.” Luke only nodded his head yes as he dug himself deeper into your embrace as one hand started caressing his back, the other digging your fingers into his curls lightly scratching. 

8. Next time I’ll wait

It’s a Monday afternoon and you’ve been waiting all weekend for a new pair of shoes to be delivered. They were a pair of limited edition converse and you were excited to get them in before you traveled to Europe for the Stadium Series that opened your boyfriend’s NHL season. Naturally every little alert you get from the ring app your checking. Most of them have just been neighbors walking past to get to their own apartments. But it still doesn’t stop you form opening the notification you just got. 

Now what you weren’t expecting to see was but also wasn’t surprised to see. Is Luke running outside of the apartment with a pot that’s on fire because he accidentally set something on fire while cooking. The embarrassment is clear on his face when he comes back a minute later with no pot in sight, assuming he left it outside in the leftover snow from a few days ago. Thinking he got away with his cooking disaster until he makes direct eye contact with the ring camera and suddenly remembers its existence. 

He decides to just rip the bandaid off and looks directly into the camera as he says “we're out of eggs by the way.”

Deciding to just talk to Luke now you press the speak button and with a light chuckle you add “well and a new pan since I no longer see it. I hope it wasn’t the one that I love.” 

Luke suddenly looks like a deer in headlights, obviously he wasn’t expecting you to be watching him run out of the apartment with a pan on fire. “Uhhh I’ll buy you a whole new set, the ones you have saved on amazon, the colored ones!” 

“Okay. baby next time can you wait 5 minutes until I’m home” 

A giant sigh leaves Luke’s lips as his face starts to form his famous pout, “Yeah okay”

[messenger-of-babel]

Family Resemblance

Summary: You turn up on the doorstep of Wayne Manor, pleading for your brother to let you in. (Damian Wayne x sis!reader)

Word Count: 2.5K

Notes: I originally had the Harley fic for today but I can't find it??? So ofc I did what I did best and wrote an entirely new one for today. Pivoted hard too smh. I hope people enjoy it! First Damian fic for this site so I'm still getting his personality down. Hope that people enjoy him regardless, and sorry to anyone who actually checked ahead and wanted the Harley one, I'll throw it on my blog after Angstober when I find it. Much Love~! xx

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If Damian Wayne was a spitting image of Bruce, then your mannerisms were exactly the same as Thalia's.

He had inherited the black hair and facial features of his father, something that rich Gothamites liked to point out at the galas repeatedly. However the way you held yourself on the doorstep, the tilt of your head and the shimmer in your eyes were anything but Bruce's. If he hadn't known better, he could have sworn that it was Thalia herself standing there.

"What do you want?" he asked coarsely, untrusting. His eyes flicker over you, the way your eyes are rimmed and puffy, and the frown on your face. He blocks the entrance with his body, half a mind to leave you on the doorstep.

"It's been so long since we saw each other, Damian." you say softly, frown deepening. "I thought you might be happy to see me."

He scoffs. "You're still an agent of the League." he responds. "I doubt this is a personal call."

"Well, you better believe it." you say firmly, arms hugging your side. "I'm here to request protection."

His eyebrows shoot upwards at that, leaning on the doorframe. "Yeah, right." his says, tone disbelieving. "You, a fully trained assassin, can't take care of herself? I didn't realise the League had gotten so weak in recent days."

You bristle at that, the way that you tighten your hold and your jaw, but you just turn your head away and do not say anything. Damian remembered you as a spitfire, although you both were much younger then. You had a fiercely competitive spirit, and he would frequently catch you training to surpass him. Now you were taller, facial features a little more defined. Your hair was a little different, but still the same colour he remembered. What made him suspicious however was that the pride you usually had, the sheer arrogance that came with being the grandchild of Ras Ah Ghul, was diminished. He had never seen you hang your head outside of being scolded or disciplined by the League, and he hadn't expected to see it on the doorstep of Wayne manor of all things.

"Damian, please." you say with a sigh, shaking your head in defeat. "I have nowhere to go."

He sighs but tosses his head. Sure, you were his twin, his sister, but his gut won out. "I can't let you in." he says, frowning. "The League will be mad if they know you're here. You should go home before mother finds out, if she hasn't already."

He goes to close the door, but you block it with your foot.

"I'm running from them!" you shout, eyes glossing over as you press against the door, fighting to get it open. "They're going to kill me, please Damian, please! Mother, the League, they're going to kill me." you cry, sticking an arm though the crack you've managed to hold open.

"Just what is happening here?" Comes a stern voice, followed by the clipping of dress shoes. Damian turns to see Alfred, a frown pulled over the elderly man's face. With the moment of distraction you shove the door forward, throwing Damian off balance and eh stumbles away from the door. Now that it's fully open you rush through, the tears that were brewing now dripping from the corner of your eyes.

"You have to help me." you say, lips trembling and gaze fitting between your brother and the elderly man. Alfred looks between you and Damian, who's rolling his eyes. "Don't believe them." he scoffs. Alfred looks at him with a disappointed look.

"And what makes you say that, Master Damian?"

"Because she's my sister." he huffs, pushing off from rocking on his heels. "And like our mother, she's a liar."

Alfred looks down at him in shock before turning back to you and gently grabbing your arm. He sends a pointed look to Damian. "Go fetch your father, he is in his office this evening." he says, making Damian narrow his eyes.

"You cannot be serious."

Alfred meets his stare, managing to get Damian to look away first. "I think if he has another child, he deserves to know." he says haughtily, before his face warms looking back to you. "Let's get you settled with a nice cup of tea, and you can let me know what's brought you here today, hm?" he says, making a smile ripple across your face.

"I'd like that." your sniffle, rubbing at your nose. As Alfred leads you away you send a hopeful stare to your brother, who responds with a glare before he turns on his heel.

Alfred entertains you until a man comes into the living room, well dressed but eyes are tired and lined with bags. Damian trails behind him, matching the clipped step of the older man. You meet the eyes of the man you know as Bruce Wayne, rising to your feet and giving him a slight bow. "It's a pleasure to meet you." you say softly, eyes hesitant as you look at him. A smile falls across Bruce’s face, and he crouches to your height.

"No need for formality. Damian tells me you’re his sister, is that right?" he asks softly. You study his face, and you can see your brother in his features, the lines of his chin and nose. The same black hair, same one-sided grin that falls to the left.

"That's correct, sir." you say politely. "We're twins."

Bruce hums, standing up and walking to one side of the couch to settle. "I assume you know that I'm your father then too?" he asks, and you can see in his body language that he's preparing for the chance that you weren't aware.

"I know." you say softly. "Mother told me when we sent Damian away."

You see how his eyes darken when you mention Thalia, knuckles coming up for his teeth to scrape against. Then he hums, and the hesitance that was around him fades. "Damian also tells me that you're also a part of the League." The warmth that he was holding flickers away for a brief second, and you can see the eyes of Batman studying you, even without the cowl.

You nod. "Yes sir." you say, eyes filling up once more. "I was being trained alongside Damian, and mother continued after he left. However, I made her angry, well, not her exactly..." you trail off. "I made grandfather angry."

Bruce leans forward onto his knees, and Damian sends you a quizzical glance from your peripheral vision. "You mean Ras?" he asks.

You nod, wiping your tears with your fingers before Alfred offers you the handkerchief from his pocket.

"I wanted to prove myself, but when it came to it, to having to kill someone..." you take a shaky breath. "I couldn't do it. I couldn't do something that awful. I realised that killing senselessly wasn't going to fix the world. When I refused, Grandfather chased me out. Even mother." your hands shaky as you cry into the handkerchief. "The League is hunting me, and there's never been anyone who's ever escaped their grasp. Except one." you raise your head up, eyes glistening.

"That's why I need your help." you whisper. "I know I had to find my father."

Damian makes a noise of disgust, drawing all sets of eyes to him. He comes forward, arms crossed. "You really believe her?" he asks incredulously, a hand thrown your way in distaste. "She's clearly lying."

"Damian," Bruce warns.

"No, father." he snaps back, eyes narrowing as he looks at you. "I don't know what you want, sister, but you're a liar. You've killed before. We both have, as soon as we could hold a weapon."

"But I realise it was wrong now!" you protest.” I realised that I have a choice, and I could start making my own decisions. I didn't need to kill."

"Bullshit, plus he's not your father-"

"Damian." Bruce calls, voice heavy and stern. His handsome face is sending a glare to Damian, not backing down when the boy sends once back. "That's enough."

Alfred grabs the young boy's arm, making him sit down on the couch opposite you. You turn your eyes back towards Bruce. "Please," you plead, and the older man sighs. "I don't have anywhere else to run."

Bruce wipes a hand over his face before signalling to Alfred. "Give us a moment, sweetheart." he says, standing and placing a warm hand on your shoulder. "We'll work something out, just give us a second to discuss." He sends you a smile as he and the older man leave the room, headed up the stairs, likely to his study.

That left the both of you in a room together.

It's tense between you two, and the way Damian refuses to look at you doesn't make it better. "Damian, please look at me." you say softly. "Do you really hate me that much?" you begin to cry, trying to keep the sounds sealed behind your lips. That makes Damian break, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"We aren't children anymore." he chides. "Stop crying."

"Sorry Dami." you sniffle, biting your lip. You look over to your brother, fidgeting in your spot and itching to get closer to him. however, you could tell through the body language of the young boy, that he was already closer to you than he'd like.

When you call him that nickname, he lets his shoulders sag. If he was completely honest with his feelings, he would tell you deep down that he did miss you, that he had thought of you the first time he had moved into the manor.

You were twins and were raised together, always together. You slept in the same rooms, you sparred together, you ate together, you did tasks for the League together. Leaving and going to Bruce was the first time he had ever been apart from you, and he could still recall the way you waved goodbye at him sadly when mother had taken his hand and told him he was going to carry out something important.

He had never seen you since, until now.

"I really missed you, Damian." you sniffle, giving him a hopeful smile. "I wanted my brother back. it was so lonely, so so lonely without you. I had no one to spar with, and Mother never let me see you."

"I... missed you too." he huffs out, arms crossing over his chest and your eyes brighten.

"Really?" you ask, voice hopeful. You cast a quick look the way the two older men went before standing up, hands nervously clasped in front of you. "Can I ...Can I hug you again?" your voice wavers, shaking slightly. Damian softens for only a fraction.

Just once, he'd let you hug him like before, and then you would be gone.

Out of his hair. Back to Thalia.

"Just once." he finally concedes as you come over, and he awkwardly holds his arms out once he’d stood up. When he looks down at you and your eyes meet his, he sees his twin sister from those years ago that followed him like a shadow. He saw the traces of your smile that stayed the same, the same way that mother smiled, just a tinge sweeter. However, as your arms wrapped around him and then tightened, he remembered the first thought he had when seeing you again on the doorstep, and his breath catches slightly.

Damian was a spitting image of Bruce, but you were still a mini Thalia.

He can't even push you away when he feels the shooting pain in his back, crying out before your hand clamps over his mouth to muffle the sound.

Your smile, like Thalia's, except coated in a much sweeter poison. Your eyes that were leaking tears so heavily before now cold and scornful.

Damian feels his body drop to the floor, or more accurately, he’s unable to feel his body.

There's a tingle that starts in his fingers and toes but goes up past his arms, limbs not moving when he tries to, mouth not moving in the right shape to form words. "You were so close, brother." you hum, looking down at him crumpled on the floor. The feeling of wetness begins creeping across his back into the shirt he wore, and he knows that it's most likely his blood staining his shirt. "It seems that mother was right, spending time with father has made you soft."

"Why?" he croaks out, trying to crane his head upwards weakly. His face is pressed into the carpet, and he only manages to turn it slightly.

"Because everyone loves you." you spit, and he grows confused. "Because even though you're here, and I'm still there," you hiss, waving the blade you had concealed in your sleeve, "Grandfather still wants you to be the Demons Head. The same way that he wanted father to be his predecessor. Even though I've killed, razed cities, hunted criminals just to show him how much more capable I was than you."

Your words drip with a cold malice, a cruel flicker of your lips pulling in a grin. "But you are right. Mother doesn't know that I'm out. She would forbid me from killing you, but it isn't her decision." you say with a roll of your eyes, as if this situation was all too regular for you. Damian's vision is beginning to grow blurry, the ache turning into a sting and finally a burn that began consuming his back. He groans in pain, the wound angry and he shifts it slightly.

"Now they'll finally see." you say, voice wavering. tears spring back to your eyes, and he can tell that these ones are real this time. You clean the knife with the handkerchief before dropping it in front of his face, the embroidered 'A. P' catching his eye on the blood-soaked cloth.

"I'll be the head of the League that you never deserved to be, the head that people fail to see that I can be."

You storm away from the scene, footsteps light before you turn around. "Goodbye, Damian." you say softly, before you melt into the shadows and he can no longer see you. The logical part of his brain yells at him to slow his breathing to slow the loss of blood and your poison. It screams at him, knowing he should have never gotten caught off guard in the first place. Yet as you walk away, his brain can only conjure the image of the little girl he used to share a room with, who got scared of the dark at night. The same girl who'd steal the things he hated off his plate at mealtime, so he didn't have to eat them.

Even as he slipped into unconsciousness, the sound of alarmed yelling far away ringing in his ears, all he could think about was the young girl he left behind one too many years ago. The young girl who had grown into Thalia faster than he had grown into Bruce.

[gotham-daydreams]

How would it have gone differently if Reader didn't try to be an "overachiever" and instead just stayed quiet and didn't interact with anyone besides Alfred until they left? Their room they left being mostly blank, with only the music journals? Giving up on trying to get their attention.

I think what's so funny about this ask, to me, is that I already have a concept like this written down (along with 3 others since the current reader I'm writing for the "Not [ ]" series is one of them but with a few missing details), so this'll be fun!

I guess it generally goes how you'd expect? Which is different for the most part, but the reader's perspective on what's happening is also different.

Granted, I would like to point out that, at least for this particular concept and the idea I have for it of how this would go, does have more stuff going on pre-Batfam that do affect how they perceive what's happening, and that's what makes things interesting in my opinion. Because someone can be naturally shy or just overall more reserved either out of nature or because they feel a certain way, but still feel bad about being neglected and, despite their lack of effort, feel that pain just as much as someone who's tried. Which is valid! Besides, someone's definition of 'trying' can vary as well.

Everyone should have a chance to have a family, and form some kind of connection with people. Just because you aren't going above and beyond for one person, doesn't mean you're undeserving of certain things. Especially not a chance to have a family, or feel like you have one. That's what I think anyway.

Nevertheless, back to the reader!

From the original concept, I will be tweaking a few things to fit the ask, but the same general outcome remains! Though again, the reader's perspective on things is a tad different. But how about this- I'll show two versions of the reader.

One that's quiet and more reserved because they gave up much earlier, or just generally hopeless really early on because maybe they felt as if anything they'd do just wouldn't be enough, who'll be accurately named Quiet!Reader. With the other being more closely related to the concept I wrote for such an idea, that we'll refer to as Waiting!Reader.

Quiet!Reader would change up things quite a bit! I won't lie!

They might already have bad self-esteem that's quick to develop at the start of things, which is something to note as that doesn't get better with time. They grow more cold and distant from the family at a quicker pace both from personal and external reasons.

Put simply, they don't feel good enough, and even if they did- anything they could do to get the Batfam's attention would never be enough in their eyes. To which, they see very early on when they try to engage and do some things with the family, only to be turned down. What doesn't help is when Quiet!Reader sees Damian get adopted and almost immediately showered with love, (compared to them) and that really cements some ideas that were already developing in their head about the family.

When Damian comes into the picture, they feel replaced. Seeing him as someone to fill in the 'youngest Wayne' role instead of them, so that Bruce and the others actually have someone to acknowledge for such a title. Just someone else to further take away the little they had.

So, they further step out of the way, glaring at the Batfam with tired eyes before that eventually stops too. Envy clawing at their heart, hatred being sent through waves of pain all throughout their body. Hurt unmatched. Yet they still remain invisible. Quiet as ever. Unnoticed. Everything they ever felt dies down, and forms a cold numbness that they begin to associate with the family.

Maybe through that, they feel closer to the family in some twisted way. Now just as cold as them. Just as talkative, and just as engaging. Almost mirroring them, but they're honest about how they feel. Honest about what they think, and therefore better. At least when compared to the Batfam- and to them, even if it wasn't a high bar to reach anyway, at least it counts for something.

It was never Damian's fault, or really about Damian at all. It could've been anyone else and Quiet!Reader would've still reacted the same way, they know that. Though just seeing the Batfam show love and care to him and not them just makes them feel... worse.

Clearly they're capable of love, and can notice new additions to the family (to which they may have mostly believed that the Batfam's neglect was just something the family did for whatever reason, and thought that them being the youngest had something to do with it for a while) and that breaks the reader. It doesn't hurt, not as much as it would've, maybe, but whatever hurt is there dies down quickly as Quiet!Reader, well, quietly accepts their fate.

The Batfam clearly wants nothing to do with them, so why should they try to do all of these things for them? It's simple, they shouldn't. So they don't. Quiet!Reader gives up, and continues to live their life without them.

The Manor just becomes a place they sleep in, and nothing else. It isn't anything close to a home, and not even Alfred can help with that.

It's because of that little fact, however, that Quiet!Reader leaves much sooner than the reader in the "Not [ ]" series. Maybe once they get a friend they can trust, they essentially end up living with said friend, hence why their room remains so empty. The notebooks they even keep in the room they have in the Manor is from when they were way younger, instead of just being from a few months ago or so. We're talking years since Quiet!Reader has touched those things now.

Maybe they do 'officially' leave a month or so before they usually would as an overachiever in the "Not [ ]" series, having only bothered to return so often before because of Alfred. Though even then, they'd forget to return most nights- only being reminded to even try and go back once Alfred would personally call them, and ask them where they were.

However now, after a while of just the time between them basically living with their friend and sleeping at the manor, they stop returning altogether. Though this time around they instead personally go to Alfred to say they're goodbyes. Not explaining much, but just saying that while they might still try to come and visit him sometimes, they don't live in the Manor anymore. Alfred already knows this, and the embrace they share fully hammers in that fact.

Yet when Quiet!Reader turns away, and leaves the Manor for good- even through the front door at that. Alfred can't help but just... miss them already.

You see, while Quiet!Reader is indeed quieter and more reserved, especially towards the Batfam, with Alfred really being the only exception, they still made music.

Maybe they didn't have as many concerts or physical, grand, live performances compared to the reader in the "Not [ ]" series, they not only started earlier, but may have actually started out on a social platform such a youtube. They really started out small, but were able to find and start their passion much earlier!

Most of what they played was when they were in the Manor, but slowly they started to get involved with things music related outside of the Manor and in Gotham- and from there were able to build themselves up even more. Hell, I'd even say that Quiet!Reader is a little more well-known and popular than the reader in the "Not [ ]" series because of the amount of extra time they dedicated to their passion.

So basically, Alfred this time around has more recordings and such of Quiet!Reader actually doing something they love than with the one in the series. However! Funnily enough, they're gone for a shorter amount of time despite having left earlier than normal.

Alfred is just, extra fed up with this nonsense, and so pulls his tricks more early on, but also make them hit harder.

He doesn't clean Quiet!Reader's room to show how long they've been gone, adding onto the emptiness and almost abandoned feeling the room itself gives off because of how bare and empty it is. They're music haunts the halls, subtle, sure, but still noticeable- especially to those who are hyper aware all the time. Pictures of Quiet!Reader and Alfred begin to be hung up, and if he can manage- some with Quiet!Reader and their friends during important parts of their life.

No one is safe from the guilt and anguish Alfred seeks to cause to not only have the Batfam look for you, but most importantly, to finally notice you.

Let's just say, things work out a little too well.

---

As for Waiting!Reader? Oh man, I've been wanting to rant about them for a while!

Unlike the reader in the "Not [ ]" series and Quiet!Reader, Waiting!Reader had some semblance of a life before getting adopted into the Batfam. Though the idea and character themself isn't musically inclined/involved in music, or even all that interested in music for that matter- for the sake of this ask, lets say they are!

I won't dabble too much into the life Waiting!Reader had before the Batfam, as if I do end up writing them I'd also like to keep some details vague (for the sake of leaving it up to interpretation and everything), but just know that during the time they were still with their original family, they were essentially taught that they should 'wait their turn', and eventually their parents would spend time with them and care for them. Hence the little name I've given them.

So! When they get to the Manor and are officially adopted, only to be neglected and ignored during their first few attempts- because of their young age, they immediately think "oh! they're just like mom and dad!" So they 'wait' for 'their turn', believing that eventually, should they wait long enough, they'll be rewarded with bonding and such from the Batfam just as they were with their previous parents.

This mindset changes what they do as well, as Waiting!Reader even goes out of their way to not bother anyone, or "get in the way" of whatever they could be doing. Waiting!Reader treats the situation so much like their previous home life, that sometimes they might even forget that the Batfam are completely different people from their parents. The only real difference that they can think of is that they're not acknowledged at all and it seems like their 'turn' never comes. Though for a while that doesn't get them down. The Batfam is busy like they're parents were! Waiting!Reader is sure that when things die down then they'll have their time.

... Hopefully.

I can imagine that part of the reason why Waiting!Reader holds on to hope for so long is because, again, their own parents constantly reassured them that they would have their time eventually. That if they behaved, and stayed out of the way, then they would go somewhere fun with their parents and essentially be rewarded for their efforts. They were conditioned to wait, to be patient, and just comply until those around them decided to actually take care of them, and spend time with them.

Of course, as they grow up the reality of the situation does hit them eventually, but during that time they do try.

Waiting!Reader helps Alfred around the house, and so they mostly bond over doing chores, among other things. They are also more mindful, and try to keep the amount of noise they back down— so they actually don't play at the Manor all that often, and instead play literally anywhere else. If and when they do play outside, around the area of the Manor like in the gardens or something, they make sure no one is around before even thinking of playing.

Alfred does help them break a few of their habits that they got while living with their parents, but the one thing he can't seem to 'fix' is how absolutely quiet Waiting!Reader is when they walk around. Which, as on can imagine, doesn't exactly help in a situation where the whole family, except for the butler, is neglecting you.

The amount of times Waiting!Reader has caught Alfred off guard is more then you'd think for someone that works with the Dark Knight, and his various sidekicks and such, over the years. Which does say something, sure, but it's also funny!

Regardless, similar to Quiet!Reader, Waiting!Reader is able to start their musical career earlier than normal, and thuse becomes a little more popular than they would originally. However, they're more known for their live performances and giving back to the community. Seemingly just like Bruce as they attend charity event after charity event, and try to do good by the people.

Waiting!Reader also does genuinely try to become a vigilante as well, but they do so in a way where they only take care of the smaller/medium guys, and leave the bigger ones to the rest of the Batfam. This is because they want to remove possible distractions for their family, and while they would try to take on "bigger guys", they don't think they're skilled enough or experienced enough to even think about it. So they don't even try. (They also don't have the same theme as the Batfam- since they don't want to 'ruin' their reputation with what they're doing or something. Which does hell them further detach themself from the family later on.)

I'd say that with Waiting!Reader, the difference between them and the Batfam is more clear to them? Like, to them, the Batfam are just so good at what they do that they have no hope of reaching them. So instead of trying to reach for them, they just do their own thing and try to help in their own way.

Because Waiting!Reader takes care of smaller guys, they are kind of closer to Waiting!Reader as a vigilante.

The best way I can put it is that while the community trusts Batman and the members of the Batfam to save their city, they trust Waiting!Reader to save their homes.

So basically- Batfam is the bigger picture while Waiting!Reader focuses on the smaller picture.

Nevertheless! Also like Quiet!Reader, Waiting!Reader actually leaves earlier. Except when they leave, they leave.

Waiting!Reader straight up leaves Gotham City to attend the college that they want to go to, in an area that has more opportunity for them, that isn't close to where the Batfam lives or patrols.

So they not only leave earlier, but it also takes the Batfam longer to find them. Especially because Waiting!Reader does still do some things in Gotham, they just don't live there anymore.

I feel like out of all three readers, Waiting!Reader definitely feels like the kind of person that someone would assume is some kind of "Phantom of the Wayne Manor," y'know?

So Alfred definitely tries to make the Batfam feel bad like he does with Quiet!Reader. Except how anyone in the Batfam is reminded that Waiting!Reader even exists, and that they've been gone for a while now is through a letter that is accidentally sent to the Wayne Manor from one of Waiting!Reader's fans. From there, some research does start and the more the Batfam learns, the more they want to go and find the reader- you know the deal.

I hope this answered your question even if I really did ramble on this time- if you'd like me to clarify anything or go into more detail on a specific part, feel free to send in an ask!

[megwritesriddles]

Tom Riddle as your secret admirer at Christmas ༊*·˚

Word count: 630

Masterlist

Authors note: Different style of writing for me, half bullet points, half prose. Not sure what to call it, a drabble? no it's too long. Headcanons? no, there's a storyline. This was originally going to be a series of scenarios with Riddle at various relationship stages, but of course the next one I wrote turned into a beast (friends with benefits), so here's this while I finish the other. Whatever this is, I hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

You know of Riddle but you don’t really know that he knows of you

But boy, he definitely does know of you, way more than he should

He admires your intelligence, and kindness and looks from afar

He doesn’t want to complicate things for both of you by associating with you in public initially

AND he hates the idea of actually being vulnerable when not hiding behind the blanket of anonymity 

He sticks to occasional anonymous gifts to satiate his inconvenient desires for connection with you

My angel,

Flowers that while exquisite, may never even hope to compete with your beauty. A mere shallow token from the deep well of feelings I harbour.

Yours,

T

Attached is a bouquet of your favourite flowers, enchanted never to wilt

Enough people’s names start with T that he’s happy to sign the card this way, unconsciously hoping you might figure him out

When you first receive them, you’re sure they mustn’t be for you, asking around all your dormmates to see if they might be for them

Nobody claims them, and they are your absolute favourite flower

You display them in a vase on your bedside despite finding the whole thing odd

A few more little gifts appear for you throughout the year, although you have doubts they could really be for you, they are all personalised to you

You spend many nights with friends pondering over who ‘T’ may be

Riddle knows how much Christmas seems to mean to most romantic couples, so he figures he must go all out for you

My angel,

The days are long and gloomy but ever brightened by your presence. Thoughts of you keep out the harsh cold at night, giving me my very first taste of what many call ‘the Christmas spirit’. I wish for us to spend time together like other couples do, cuddled together by the fire. Perhaps one day. I have never hoped for such things before, but you have changed everything. You are now and forever my angel. I worship you from afar.

Yours,

T

With this note comes a large box, full of various gifts

Jewellery, perfumes, chocolates, luxurious quills and ink, an intricate leatherbound diary, and indulgent bathing products, all perfectly tailored to your preferences

You’re unsure what to make of all this, half-flattered, half-creeped out

Riddle had pulled a lot of strings to get you so many expensive products, so is absolutely thrilled when that day at dinner, he spots you wearing the angel wing necklace he gave you

You don’t realise that both your initials are engraved on the back

When Tom Riddle, polite and charming Head Boy, compliments your necklace as you sit alone, you pay it no mind

Until he innocuously asks if there are any engravings, and you look down to see the letters T.M.R. staring back at you beside your own initials

He’s gone by the time you look back up, though a note sits on the table before you in familiar handwriting, clearly prepared ahead of time

My angel,

Seek me out tonight if you wish, I will not push. I will be in the back of the library awaiting you with great anticipation. I promise that with me you will live a very happy life and want for nothing. I am not as frightening as I may seem, I am merely afraid, and I will tell you all about it tonight if you come find me. Then perhaps I may hold you by the fire as I dream of if you’ll allow it. To me, you are precious, so I am willing to go slow. If I have made you uncomfortable, I will stop correspondence with you after tonight, but my heart will never leave you.

Yours,

Tom Riddle

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

xoxoxo Merry Christmas xoxoxo

[felikatze]

THE ISLANDER EUPHRASIE THEORY: THE CRACK HEADCANON THAT RUINED ME FOREVER

HI. you might know me as the kingphie divorce guy. or as the guy who wrote the 6k ludonarrative essay. Today i am going to introduce to YOU @the-bitter-ocean's fantabulous ISLANDER EUPHRASIE THEORY!!!

DISCLAIMER

This post contains SPOILERS for ALL of In Stars and Time. INCLUDING THE ACT 6 SECRET!!

You have been warned.

ALSO!!!!

The original headcanon/theory is VERY MUCH Ocean's fantastic work! I am merely rehashing all the arguments for it that have been laid out across various chats into one cohesive thing people can look at. Also citations! Who doesn't love those.

WHAT IS IT?

Well, it's quite simple. It's the theory that Euphrasie, love of my life and Head Housemaiden of Dormont, is from the forgotten island, same as Siffrin and the King.

(Yes, this is why divorce AU exists.)

WHY DO YOU EVEN BELIEVE THIS?

Quite a lot of reasons, actually.

It's really funny

Let us begin with: the basics.

SUPERFLOUS AESTHETIC DETAIL

HAIR COLOR

This is Euphrasie. She's very pretty. I love her.

You might notice several things about her, like her fantabulous white hair.

Well. What other characters have white hair?

You have guessed correctly. The ONLY OTHER white haired characters with actual artwork are Siffrin and the King, both from The Island The World Forgot. Thus we can assume that it's a typical hair color for islanders. Makes it stand out very much that Euphie also has it.

(What about the beautiful one- sh sh sh he's blonde. He's blonde.) (Well, actually, considering that they are the only one who acknowledges that Vaugardians are also weird, what if he's from the island as well? Checkmate atheists.)

EYELASHES

(EDIT!!!!! FINALLY PUTTING THIS ON THE MAIN POST!!!

Turns out I was incorrect in this. Some characters (Mira, Isa) also have eyelashes on SOME portraits. The mentioned chars r still notable for Always Having Em, + the Loop lashes are like, literally intended as plot twist foreshadowing, but, hey.

That's what you get for writing essays at 1am.

IN RETURN!!! Someone pointed out to me [i forgot who sorry] that Euphrasie's capelet.... has stars on it!! It's speckled like the starry sky!! Now isn't that a neat coinkydink.)

(Original text left up because I respect my past self's artistic vision. And his lunacy.)

Correct. Eyelashes.

Going back to our portrait of Euphie, she is drawn with precisely three eyelashes. Why is this notable? Because Siffrin and Loop are.

So much so, that being drawn with three eyelashes, is specifically an element of foreshadowing to Loop's true identity.

(squints at character portraits) literally no characters besides Siffrin, Loop, and Euphrasie have eyelashes? Oh my god. What? Nobody has eyelashes? What the fuck? (okay, some moments later: Mirabelle has eyelashes in some battle artwork, but these three are the only ones specifically with eyelashes in dialogue portraits, which is still incredibly odd.)

SPEAKING HABITS

(EDIT!!! Another Point that is Kind Of Off, in that other characters [e.g. Odile] also do this occasionally. Again, keeping the text for my creative vision.

In return I get to inform you that the King makes the "not so bright, Bright One" pun TWICE in different loops, thus implying the King likes puns. Take this as you will. That's been my psychic damage, buhbyeeee~)

Hey, so, you know when you talk to people in Dormont, a lot of the NPCS will have a nametag that just says "[something] One" right? Daydreaming One, Castle-Loving One, Beautiful One?

And I've seen people wonder, are these titles? Nicknames?

And I bring you this: Siffrin addresses these people with these epithets in his head, because they have no fucking clue what anyone's name is.

So Siffrin just naturally lapses into this style of nicknaming strangers.

Which two other people also do.

Bright one... ...... Do you remember? Traveling one! Are you done talking with your companions? Yes, wonderful, wonderful!

Funny little tidbit that these three characters all speak alike isn't it :)

Okay. With aesthetics out of the way, let's move onto the next tier of this iceberg:

THE MECHANICS OF FORGETTING AND BEING FORGOTTEN

I realize in the process of writing that we must outline the nature of the curse. What gets forgotten and what gets to stay?

The particularity that's important to us right now is: what people get forgotten?

All evidence points toward this: an entire person is only forgotten if they were physically present on the island when it vanished.

I'm pulling up two example cases to prove it: Siffrin and the Daydreaming One.

The thing with Siffrin is: we know he witnessed the exact moment the island vanished. And, very notably, Siffrin was in a boat.

You can get the dialogue that proves this only in ACT 2 in a secret room most people don't find on their first playthroughs, which is both very funny and very evil. Here's the dialogue.

Siffrin: "I ran away from home once!" [...] Siffrin: "And so I took our boat! Got to the beach, rowed away from the shore a bit. I was going to come back right away, I just wanted to scare my parents a bit!" [...]

Siffrin: "I started to row back towards the shore... And then, I... I... ..." Isabeau: ... Sif? Siffrin: (Woah! What?) "Um, yes?" Isabeau: Um... You were telling us how you ran away from home? Siffrin: "I... was?" Odile: You... Were. Bonnie: DID YOU FORGET WHAT YOU WERE TALKING ABOUT WHILE TALKING ABOUT IT?!?

Siffrin is from the island, but was not physically present when it disappeared. This resulted in Siffrin forgetting their entire identity, including given name and spoken/written language.

Additionally, this is confirmed via Word of God to be the exact moment the island disappeared, so here's proof I'm not reading into it:

Shoutout to bibliomaniac's insane google spreadsheet for the easily searchable screenshot. god bless. Brinny, ily.

On the other hand, with the Daydreaming One, we have proof of a person who is not originally from the island, but was physically on it at the time of disappearance.

Siffrin: "Don't you have a sister?" Daydreaming One: I... I don't? I just said I'm an only child, silly!

(For her to forget someone like her sister, so easily... Her sister must've traveled to...)

Secondly, we know that remnants of the island were not completely forgotten immediately.

Memory faded gradually, starting with the ability to still speak and think about it with accompanying headaches, until it ramped up in intensity and everything is simply gone.

The Sparkling Diary in the library is more or less proof. Memory of the island was gone, but... people still remembered that they forgot something. People still knew what they were talking about, (an island north of Vaugarde), just without the specifics.

"Urgh. Also, Dad noticed no one can say the name of the island north of here anymore?" "I tried to say it yesterday and I got like the WEIRDEST headache for HOURS."

And Odile also remarks the following

Odile: We also know that people could remember that country clearly, before.

This will be relevant later. Moving on.

CONTRIVANCES

THE HOUSE'S OBSERVATORY

SO. The House of Change of Dormont has this funny little room on the third floor. It's an observatory. To look at stars with. When entering this room for the first time, Mirabelle says this:

Mirabelle: What...? Was there a room like this in the House? Y-yeah, I remember! Someone was working here... Studying... They looked like... ... Um... Sorry, I can't remember.

This reveals to us several things:

This room is innate to the House, and not brought here by the King's weird redecorating

Someone from the House was using it for study

All memory of who or what was studying and being studied was erased alongside the island's existence

Of course we can say, "yo, what if Euphrasie was using this room and just forgot?" but that is. a headcanon. I ADMIT! It is a stipulation

However, I find the general presence of the Island written all over the House incredibly interesting.

Inside the Observatory, there's a pile of papers with messy handwriting. You can't read these in until ACT 4. Even in ACT 4, you can't read them. But you do learn what's written on them.

(A pile of papers.) (It looks like someone was trying to write your country's name.)

Inside the observatory is also a globe. Upon repeated interaction in... act 4, i think, you get this:

(You see a spot on the globe where the paint has started wearing out, like someone kept dragging their finger on it.) (You drag your finger there too.) (Erased. You almost want to look for lightless paint.)

BOOKS

During the various quests to discover the truth of the loops, you run into a lot of books, written in the forgotten language. Now, Dormont is not close to the island. Dormont is not close to the coast.

Bambouche is. That's why Bonnie has heard about the island before and knows it was a big deal - they lived really close to it.

Bonnie (and then1): I think, I think my village was really close to it!!! My sister said it was all everyone could talk about for weeks!!! Mirabelle (anxious1): That's so frightening... I'm glad that whatever happened, she didn't get caught up in it!

As we can see in this map, Dormont is in the southern half of the country, and very centrally at that, meaning it has basically maximum distance from all waters and ports. So why does this landlocked small town have so many books in this language?

These aren't just dry books, either. In Dormont's library, there's actually a translated version of volume 2 of The Cursing of Chateau Castle.

(You take the book out again.) (You can read its title, now...) (Your heart is beating, badump, badump, badump.) (It's...) (... A translated copy of "The Cursing of Château Castle", issue #2.) (You start laughing.)

CONCLUSION OF THIS SECTION

Islanders lived in Dormont. Maybe even multiple! We've established that whoever is in Dormont when it vanished would not simply disapper, instead

they forgot where they're from.

One day, the islanders in Dormont could no longer remember being anywhere but Dormont. Being anything but Vaugardian. The observatory fell into disuse, as the person studying there gradually forgot what they used it for, even as they desparately tried to hold onto it, boring holes into the globe, and scribbling its name over and over until its unintelligible.

And, in all likelihood, eventually that knowledge was just gone forever. They simply became part of Dormont, none the wiser to their own history.

Books slipped into cracks. Rooms fell into disuse. Nobody remembered to clean out the remnants.

Now. The real cinch of this.

Why, in particular, do I think Euphrasie is one of them?

Answer me this, then.

How does Euphie know what Wish Craft is?

1. How could she read it?

Euphrasie knew specifically that Wish Craft exists, when all books on it are written in a language nobody can read.

The book in the storage room? The diary in the room behind the star door? The book in the secret library? None of them are legible.

There are no legible records of Wish Craft.

2. What about the Favor Tree?

Euphrasie knew specifically that Wish Craft is related to the Favor Tree. It's also a Vaugardian practice to make requests of the Favor Tree, but they're just that - requests. Nobody thinks they actually have power.

Only Euphrasie does. She thinks it's the key to defeating the King.

(This is... A list of people who wished to save Vaugarde!!!) (You look around her desk, trying to find out more.) (Why would she record the people who wished to save Vaugarde?) (... There!!!) (It's a little notebook, jammed between random boring paperwork...) (In it, the Head Housemaiden talks about Wish Craft... How in the days before the King attacked, she noticed everyone was wishing to the Favor Tree for the same thing:) (To save Vaugarde.) (And she started wondering if this wish could be the key to the King's defeat, somehow...) (So the Head Housemaiden knew about Wish Craft!!!)

Except, when Isabeau talks about it...

Isabeau: Well, it's just a random big tree. But when you're a believer of the House of Change, the biggest tree in a certain place is called a Favor Tree! It's like, it’s the tree with the most power, so you can ask it things? As a favor?

He struggles a little to explain it. Almost, as though the tradition came from some other culture, imported into Vaugarde, and no one can definetely remember where it came from.

To note, here, is that the Favor Tree is hugely associated with Loop, and wishes in general. Wishing on a Favor Tree is such a hugely powerful ritual when executed correctly, that it caused the entire timeloops.

And I'm not even gonna break out citations to prove that Wish Craft is associated with the island. Come on. You know that. You played the game. It's required to beat the game.

If you haven't beaten the game, what the fuck are you doing here. Go back and play it, baka.

3. Something's breaking, failing, rotting

At the end of ACT 4, when Siffrin confronts Euphrasie about her knowledge of Wish Craft, Euphrasie is distinctly aware of this: the people of Vaugarde are wishing wrong.

It's true. All of Vaugarde wished to the Favor Tree, wished for us to be saved. We wished for a savior. A way for us to win against the King. And Wish Craft gave us the means to do it, didn't it? Made sure it'd work? [...] But... But something went wrong, didn't it? Something goes wrong, every time!!! [...] The only answer I can find... Is it's because we did it wrong. I don't know what happened But we must've done it wrong!!! None of us in Vaugarde knew the exact ritual, but-- But we must have done it so wrong, it broke, and it doesn't answer to us at all anymore!!! [...] I don't know, I don't know, I don't know!!!

There's only one person who knew how to make a Wish correctly. And he made it by sheer instinct. Something they could not place even if they tried. Just... a forgotten ritual, dredged back up by muscle memory. Something he's probably been doing since he's a little kid, something that's so backed into their habits they use Wish Craft to carve figurines out of wood.

To end, I leave you with this. Dialogue you get when you try to talk to Euphrasie again, before you talked to everybody else.

If you talk to me... REALLY talk to me... It's all over. What "it" is, I have no idea... I know... I can feel that... I couldn't change whatever comes next, even if I wanted to. But I know it is the will of the Change God. Or, no, perhaps... The will of something even bigger... ... Something will end, once you talk to me.

There is a way for Euphrasie to know all of this. To know Wish Craft exists, to be aware she's doing it wrong, but not knowing, remembering quite enough to get it right.

If she knew it all beforehand already.

[popopretty]

[Translation] Asagiri Kafka's afterwords for The Day I Picked up Dazai novel

Normally, afterwords would be the last thing I read in a novel, but as there are not many changes to the published novel this time compared to the movie bonus version, I was able to skim through the text quickly and get to this. And to be honest, despite not being a writer myself, I was so moved by Asagiri's views about writing and his characters that he shared in the afterwords, that I had to sit down and translate it right away.

This is just my crappy translation, as usual, but I hope it gave you a short, interesting look into the author and the characters. And please do not forget to buy the novel if you have the chance.

The translation is under the cut, thank you!

It has been a while. This is Asagiri Kafka.

Have you been enjoying Bungou Stray Dogs?

This novel, “The Day I Picked up Dazai”, is a compilation of the first week’s bonus novel “The Day I Picked up Dazai – Side A” and the second week’s bonus novel “The Day I Picked up Dazai – Side B” for the screening of “Bungou Stray Dogs BEAST” movie (hereinafter referred to as “BEAST”).

Normally, it is difficult to publish a bonus like this, but since "BEAST” and “Fifteen” that were published earlier by BEANS Bunko were originally bonus novels too, "The Day I Picked up Dazai” was also published in the same way, thanks to the efforts of all parties involved in the Bungou Stray Dogs series.

It is the story of Dazai and Odasaku’s first meeting, where Dazai who wants to die, collapsed in front of Odasaku’s place, who is neither a mafioso nor a hit man.

Why are there two different stores, Side A and Sode B? Regarding this question, please read the novel and see for yourself. If you keep in mind that this is the bonus for the BEAST movie, I think you will be able to understand it better.

Let me reminisce a little bit here.

This story was actually suggested to me by Igarashi Takuya, Director of the Bungou Stray Dogs anime.

Shortly before BEAST movie premiered, I was struggling. It was because I was asked to write a bonus novel for movie-goers again. I said “again” because, as I mentioned earlier, BEAST itself was a bonus novel for the Bungou Stray Dogs DEAD APPLE movie. I remembered having a hard time writing it, because I let myself run wild and wrote a total of 190 pages instead of 50 pages as requested.

But I had learnt my lesson after the last rampage. I can’t just write whatever I want anymore. I have to wrap the story in a reasonable length, like a pro should do.

A proper, professional story.

Huh?

My pen stopped right there. I stopped, looked around, feeling lost.

What is a proper story?

The act of writing novel is quite different in character compared to other types of media such as writing manga, anime scripts, or game scenarios. You can say it is almost a different thing. Writing novels, rather than narrating an event, is more like putting the flow of emotions into specific sentences. You use the sequence of letters to create rhythms, create flows, and create emotions. If anything, it might be closer to composing a song than writing a story.

Therefore, you have to decide “what kind of emotion will be put in this novel” from the very beginning, or you can’t start writing. That is the only and absolute rule.

Now, however, that is where the condition of a “proper story” hung over me.

A proper novel, of a proper volume, with a proper content for a bonus.

In other words, a proper emotion.

I searched through the drawers inside my head. For a proper emotion that is waiting to be brought out.

There was nothing but emptiness there.

A professional story teller is one with the skill to move the readers’ emotions. When people find the chance to move their own emotions, they will happily be paying for it. Human-being is that kind of creature.

And writers are ones who create and sell those kinds of emotions: the fear, the excitement, the heart throb etc., those that make you think. It is that kind of job.

It is supposed to be that kind of job.

Yet I became unable to move forward.

A good story is a story that moves people. I know that. Then what kind of emotion I should put in the story to make it "proper"?

How do I find that emotion?

I mean, how did I even write novels until now?

I stood still. My legs stiffened, my knees froze, unable to take even a step forward.

I then tried to at least pretend that I was moving forward, by listening to music, by taking a walk around the neighborhood at night. But as good as the night breeze felt, I didn’t manage to reach a single story that I needed to write.

What if I stayed like this forever, what would I do?

I felt a chill plunging into my back.

Then I realized, that stories, or probably emotions too, are not things you can search for or come up with. You have no choice but to patiently wait for it to come your way. You have no choice but to humbly and earnestly sit and wait for the story’s visit.

I got that, but the "proper 50-page story” still refused to come.

It was not long before one week passed. Then two weeks.

I was doing other work, while keeping my heart’s door open, waiting for the story to come to me.

At that time, I had an online meeting with the anime staff. I casually asked Director Igarashi, “Do you have any story you want to see?”

The Director gave it a little thought then told me, "I want to see the story of Dazai and Oda’s encounter”.

At that very moment, the story rushed in through my door, like a bang. I could hear that sound very clearly.

Two stories. Odasaku, and the two Dazais. A story where they met, and a story where they couldn’t meet. A story of gain and a story of loss. If I can portray the gain and loss side by side, the amplitude of the heart will be doubled and rise up in front of us.

That was a momentary event. Rather than pushing my way forward, I felt as if something was pulling my hand. Before I noticed, I have already finished the stories.

I came to realize.

It is not the writer who searches for the story. It is the story that chooses its writer, and at some point it will come our way. A professional writer is no more than someone with the ability to catch that call.

Also, this is the most important thing: there is no such thing as a “proper emotion”. Because after all, the feelings of other people belong to them only. That is why there is no guarantee that a novel can move others “properly”. However, you can move your own emotions. You know what kind of novel can and how it will move you. If you do, you can write just that. That’s the only way. That is the truly professional attitude. That’s what I thought.

Well then.

It is a little bit off topic, but as we are talking about “stories that come our way”, let’s talk about Odasaku’s first-person narrative.

Odasaku is a special character. For me, he is exclusively a novel character, and I have never portrayed him in the manga.

He first appeared as the narrator in “Dazai Osamu and The Dark Era”, then “BEAST” and now this “The Day I Picked up Dazai”. All are novels. That’s why for me, Odasaku doesn’t live inside the pictures, he lives inside the first-person narrative passages.

He is an eccentric guy. Even if you prepare the place and tell him to speak, he won’t speak to you that easily. His way of thinking is rather unique, that if I write his narrative after writing other characters’ first-person narrative, I would stumble for sure. Odasaku doesn’t speak. He just sits there in silence, while I can do nothing but sitting in front of my blank manuscript paper, trying to talk to him, like “What’s up?”, “Here, here”. However, he is a guy who won’t speak when it is not necessary. Sometimes it goes days or even weeks without him saying a word. Why did such a character come to me...?

During such time, there is only one thing I can do. That is, of course, to stay with him, sit patiently, and simply wait.

Finally he will start speaking. In his unique rhythm, word by word. His words have the power to cut through the world from a certain angle. That special cross-section is full of things I have never seen before and it never fails to surprise me.

And then when he finishes telling his story, he will swiftly disappear. To a dark and quiet place somewhere – probably, I can only imagine, somewhere like a bar. He will sit there calmly and keep his own time to himself. After that, it will be hard to call him again. It is a backbreaking task to me, but in the end, that is the type of guy Odasaku is, and if I am allowed to sound self-conscious, that is Odasaku's charm.

This story was written in such a way. There is a chance that he will come back again. And when he does, I will patiently listen to his voice again.

This story was completed and published thanks to the help of many people: in the Bungou Stray Dogs BEAST movie’s Production Committee, the anime staff, Young Ace’s Editorial Department, BEANS Bunko’s Editorial Department, and the many people who were involved in the publication of the book. Thank you very much. It is all thanks to you that the book was published without any problem this time as well.

Well then, see you in the next story.

Asagiri Kafka.

[kanatajelly]

birthday gift

yandere!jade leech x reader x yandere!floyd leech

author's note: it's a little late, but i wrote this for jade and floyd's birthday! i was originally gonna write something fluffier for their birthday, but then i came up with this idea and just had to write it ehe. hope you guys enjoy it~

warnings: general yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, obsessive and possessive behaviour, forced isolation, implied forced marriage, power imbalance, dehumanization/objectification (reader is referred to as a gift), non-consensual touching/kissing, biting, some mentions of blood, suggestive themes, implied non-con, reader is essentially sold to the leech twins, honestly jade and floyd are their own warnings

word count: 5582

One thing to remember about the Leech family’s two children was that, despite being twins, they had significant differences; the most obvious of which being how Jade’s polite and reserved demeanour starkly contrasted with Floyd’s brash and outspoken nature. However, another important thing to highlight was that they never wanted the same thing on their birthdays.

You often questioned why this was something you needed to remember, but your questions were always answered whenever you saw how skittish and desperate your parents were whenever the date of the Leech twins’ birthday approached. Due to owing quite the large debt to Mr. Leech, your parents always felt that they had to do everything possible to get on the family’s good side, including buying birthday gifts that catered to the twins’ differing tastes. And that was pretty difficult when they never wanted the same things. You wished they weren’t so fickle.

For several years now, your parents would enlist your help in choosing birthday gifts for the two menaces. You’re the same age as them, so you’d be able to pick out things they would like better than us, is what they would always say to you. You hated it; half because you really wished your parents wouldn’t have to live the rest of their lives in fear of upsetting the Leech family, and half because you were incredibly uncomfortable around Jade and Floyd.

Ever since you’d first had the displeasure of becoming acquainted with the Leech twins, they seemed to have taken an interest in you. During every single one of the events that your family was invited to, they were always hovering around you in some way. You didn’t know who you hated more: Jade, who always seemed to have an eye on you regardless of if you could see him or not; or Floyd, who always insisted on touching you in some way whenever you were within his line of sight. Actually, speaking of those aforementioned events, you had begun to suspect that your family had only been invited to many of those because of you.

During the past few weeks, your parents hadn’t been rushing about to try and find something to buy for the twins, despite it almost being their birthday. However, you had noticed that they seemed almost awkward around you, rarely looking you in the eye and avoiding you as much as possible. It saddened you, as you had always been very close with your parents. They were all you had, even more so since you’d lost most of your friends due to their unwillingness to associate with the Leech twins. That being said, you didn’t want to give them anything more to stress about, so you kept your mouth shut and didn’t confront them about the issue, no matter how much you wanted to.

It was the day before the twins’ birthday party that your parents sat you down on your house’s sofa to talk to you. Their fearful and somewhat guilty expressions only added to your overall feeling that something was terribly, terribly wrong. “We know that this might be difficult for you to accept…” said your mother in the smallest voice you’d ever heard her use, “But… Mr. Leech has informed us that Jade and Floyd have requested something specific from us for their birthday this year.” Furrowing your eyebrows, you replied, “Something specific? Don’t tell me it’s something expensive. I swear, those two are so…” You stopped yourself before you could say more. Your father gave you a stern look.

“It’s actually quite the opposite,” your mother continued, her voice wavering. She looked like she was about to start crying. Seeing that his wife was having a hard time, your father picked up where she’d left off, “Mr. Leech has offered to overlook our family’s debt to him if we provide his sons with what they have requested.” Instantly, your face brightened. “Then what are we waiting for?! No matter how ridiculous it is, we should find it! If we can get rid of our debt, then we’ll be free,” you exclaimed happily. However, your face fell as soon as you saw that your parents’ expressions hadn’t changed - rather, they had become even more somber.

Your mother began to quietly sob now, clutching onto her husband’s arm for support. Your father put an arm around her shoulders gently, then turned back to you and revealed, “Although it is true that getting rid of our debt is a good thing, there is… another problem. This is because… the birthday gift requested by Jade and Floyd this year is… you.” 

Suddenly, you felt like time stopped around you. You couldn’t hear the sound of your parents’ sobs, nor the ticking of the clock hanging on the living room wall. All you could hear was your own heartbeat, gradually picking up in speed and volume. “...What?” you whispered, your voice almost inaudible. That was impossible. In the first place, the twins never wanted the same thing for their birthday - but your father had specifically said that this request was from both of them. And besides, was it really possible to request for a human being as a birthday gift? That was morally wrong on so many levels… but that being said, since when had the Leech family cared about morals? You were sure that they’d done even more morally dubious things in the past, so perhaps the ethics of this situation was something you shouldn’t have even been considering.

Once you had calmed down enough to be able to reply, you questioned in a shaky voice, “...And if I refuse?” Your father’s pained expression told you everything you needed to know. There was clearly some sort of consequence set out for your parents if they couldn’t fulfill the Leech twins’ request. Besides, even if it was to get rid of their debt, you were pretty sure that your parents wouldn’t agree to sell you off if there wasn’t some sort of punishment for not doing it. They loved you. It just so happened that the price for refusing this demand that had been thinly veiled as a “request” was too steep - steeper than giving up their only child to a pair of horrible people.

You were scared, terrified, of what would happen if you accepted and walked right into Jade and Floyd’s arms; but at the same time, you didn’t want anything to happen to your beloved parents.

And the latter sentiment outweighed the former.

You forced a bright smile onto your face and embraced your parents, patting their backs in a way that you hoped was reassuring. “It’ll be alright! Jade and Floyd clearly like me more than most people, so they surely won’t do anything too bad to me. And I won’t be gone forever! I’ll still visit whenever I can, and you’ll get to see me at those dinner parties we always go to… Don’t worry. I can manage this,” you told your parents, putting all of your effort into keeping up the confident tone you had taken on despite your fear. Your parents scrutinized your beaming expression for a moment, before they attempted to mirror the smile, albeit a little shakily. Your mother whispered, “Yes… You’re right. I’m sure everything will be fine.”

So that conversation was what led you to this way-too-fancy room the next day, where a handful of maids forced you into a way-too-fancy outfit (after thoroughly bathing you, much to your discomfort) and made you put on some way-too-fancy makeup and accessories in preparation for the party. It honestly felt more like you were going to a wedding than to a birthday party. The idea made you sick to your stomach.

The party venue was lavishly decorated. You would have called it nice if it wasn’t for the situation you were currently in. This year, the birthday party was taking place on land, at one of the many buildings owned by the Leech family. You remembered the first time you had been forced to go to Jade and Floyd’s birthday party - that year, it had taken place under the sea. Seeing the Coral Sea had been incredibly awe-inspiring, despite how much of a hassle it had been to acquire the items needed to go underwater. You found yourself hoping that this year’s party would have been under the sea as well. That way, maybe it would have been easier to distract yourself from your impending doom.

…Was that a bit too dramatic of a description? Maybe. But you found it fitting either way.

You were made to sit in a room by yourself for quite a while as the party started outside. Eventually, someone would come in to get you and bring you to Jade and Floyd. You just had to wait until then. To be honest, you wished that they hadn’t left you by yourself for an extended period of time. It only made you think about everything more, increasing the intensity of the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. There were many worrying implications about being given to the Leech twins as a birthday gift, none of which you wanted to think about for too long. But all you could do right now was think.

Finally, the door opened. Your head shot up towards the direction of the sound, and you met eyes with a pair of heterochromatic ones. “My, my. Were you waiting for me? It’s quite lovely to know that you were looking forward to this as much as I was,” said the person who entered the room, hiding a toothy smile behind one of his gloved hands. It was Jade who had entered, which surprised you, as you had been expecting one of the maids from before to be the one to fetch you. Before replying, you couldn’t help but scan your eyes over his form. He was wearing an elegant suit that really looked good on him. You hated to admit it, but he was quite attractive.

“Like what you see?” Jade asked in a teasing tone, finally revealing his sharp smirk, “Heh. I must say, you look absolutely wonderful in that outfit of yours. I see that I picked well.” Stunned, you mumbled, “...You picked this outfit?” He nodded, then closed the gap between you and him in a few smooth strides. Offering you his arm, he suggested, “Well then, shall we get going? Floyd is also quite excited to see you. We shouldn’t make him wait.” Your eyes darted between Jade’s outstretched arm and his own eyes. There was a certain glint in them, almost as if he was daring you to defy him. Deciding that it would be best to go along with the situation for now - more for your parents’ sake than yours - you swallowed your refusal and gingerly linked your arm with his. He gave you a pleased smile, then began to lead you out of the room.

The room you had been in connected directly to the party venue, which you had also passed through earlier to get to said room. Most of the party guests were busy talking amongst themselves, so not many noticed your arrival to the venue. You spotted Mr. and Mrs. Leech in the far corner of the room, talking with a silver-haired lady who you remembered seeing at a few of the other events you’d been to previously. However, you couldn’t find your parents anywhere. Where were they?

Suddenly, your thoughts were cut short by someone tackling you in a strong hug. “Shrimpy! Theeeere you are~” exclaimed the person that was currently squeezing the life out of you. You didn’t need to see his face to know that this was Floyd. He was the only one who called you by that ridiculous nickname (sure, you might have looked small next to the twins, but you weren’t that short) and gave you bone-crushing hugs like this one. Once he had gotten his fill of hugging you for now, Floyd pulled away and grinned widely at you. However, despite the fact that he had stopped hugging you, he still kept an arm around your waist. You wished he wouldn’t.

Jade came to stand on your other side, placing a palm on your shoulder. You really didn’t like the close proximity that both twins had to you, but you refrained from saying anything in fear of making them upset. Leaning down, Jade whispered, “Don’t you have anything you want to say to us, darling?” While he spoke, you could feel his breath on your ear, making you shiver. He moved his body so he was facing you, and Floyd went to his side, the both of them smiling down at you eerily. You took a moment to think about what it was they wanted you to say, and eventually, you settled on saying, “Um… H-Happy birthday.” 

The twins’ expressions told you that you had indeed said the right thing, which made you relax slightly. However, you tensed up again when Floyd grabbed your wrist and pulled you towards the two of them, allowing both of them to wrap their arms around you in an embrace. At first, you didn’t hug back, but as soon as you felt one of them squeeze your hip painfully (likely Floyd), you hastily reciprocated, wrapping one arm around each twin. 

The hug lasted for much longer than you wanted it to. Eventually, Jade pulled away, giving you a closed-eyed smile. However, Floyd stayed as he was, latched onto your side. All of a sudden, you felt something brush against your cheek, and then you noticed all at once just how close Floyd’s face was to yours. Your eyes widened, and you froze. However, before Floyd could do anything, Jade cleared his throat and reminded, “Floyd. Please save that for later. We should take them to see Father and Mother now.” Floyd whined annoyedly, but listened to his brother and moved away from you, instead slinging an arm around your shoulders. “Aight, let’s go then,” he responded, “I wanna get this stupid party over with so we can get to the real fun.” The implications of his words, as well as the sleazy grin he gave you after he finished his sentence, made you want to disappear then and there.

The Leech twins guided you over to where their parents were. Mr. and Mrs. Leech were still where you’d seen them, along with that silver-haired lady and a young man that looked a lot like her. You assumed that was her son, who you’d seen around the twins quite a few times. Your arrival made the attention of all four people turn to you. Mrs. Leech was the first to greet the three of you, giving both of her sons a quick hug before outstretching her arms towards you and saying, “It’s so nice to see you again! You look adorable in that outfit, sweetheart. It seems my Jade really does know your clothing taste.” 

Although you didn’t want to accept her hug, something told you that refusing it would be bad, so you forced a smile onto your face and approached Mrs. Leech. After your short embrace, you replied to her, “It’s nice to see you too, Mrs. Leech. I was very, um… e-excited to come to the party today.” She beamed at you and clapped her hands happily, exclaiming, “Oh, I’m sure you were! Also, sweetheart, there’s no need for the formalities. You can just call me mother.” 

A cold sweat ran down your back as you heard her final sentence. You opened your mouth to retort, but you were cut off by the silver-haired lady, who said, “Ah, so this is the person who Jade and Floyd are so interested in. It’s nice to meet you! You may call me Ms. Ashengrotto. My son is good friends with Jade and Floyd.” You nodded politely to Ms. Ashengrotto, desperately trying to keep the smile on your face. Then, your eyes wandered to the young man next to her, who gave you a smile as fake as your own and greeted, “My name is Azul Ashengrotto. I’ve been friends with Jade and Floyd since childhood. It’s delightful that they’ve found a suitable partner for themselves, truly.” 

As Jade turned to Azul and addressed him in a hushed whisper, you were approached by Mr. Leech, who extended a hand to you for a handshake. You accepted, saying, “H-Hello, Mr. Leech… How are you?” Mr. Leech had always been a stern and quiet man for as long as you’d known him, so you were surprised when he cracked a small smile and replied, “Good. Yourself?” You answered that you were also good, despite that being a total lie, and then proceeded to engage in small talk with the Leeches and Ms. Ashengrotto. Floyd kept an arm around your shoulders the entire time, but was oddly quiet. At some point, Jade and Azul also joined the conversation, but you couldn’t focus much on the content of it, simply autopiloting through it and trying your best to ignore your ever-mounting discomfort.

You spent a few more hours at the party, being paraded around like some sort of pet as Jade and Floyd introduced you - although you’d rather describe it as them showing you off - to the guests at the party. The guest list included many of Mr. Leech’s associates, as well as some people who had attended high school with Jade and Floyd. As pleasant as those people were (you especially liked the one who introduced himself as Kalim Al-Asim; he seemed like a very sweet person), the twins barely allowed you to talk to anyone for more than a minute at a time. 

Of course, Jade and Floyd themselves and their parents were exempt to this rule - as was Azul and his mother, though Floyd would show signs of getting annoyed whenever you spent too long looking at Azul specifically. You hated the way he would roughly squeeze at parts of your body and mumble to you in a scary voice whenever he was displeased. However, you also hated the scrutinizing way Jade looked at you the entire duration of the party, as if he was picking each of your interactions apart piece by piece to find something to punish you for later. 

During the party, you kept searching for any sign of your parents, but had no luck finding them. At some point, you asked Jade of their whereabouts, but he only shushed you and told you not to worry about it. You had been so close to blowing up at him in the middle of the venue; and you were convinced that he wanted you to, judging by the glint in his eyes and the upwards curve of his lips whenever you showed signs of reaching your limit of patience. This only further encouraged you to keep your calm, as you had a feeling that letting your guard down would only be playing into some sort of devious trap that Jade had quietly set out for you.

Eventually, the party came to an end, and you could safely say that the only thing you liked about it was the food, especially the cake. Floyd was very pleased when you expressed that you liked the cake, and attempted to force-feed you copious amounts of it until Mrs. Leech stepped in and advised him that maybe he should not be doing that. You had expected Jade to have been the one to step in, but he had simply watched with a grin. Perhaps he had also wanted to force-feed you the cake, who knows. It was impossible to read him.

After the party was over, you were led by the twins to an expensive-looking car that had been parked in a specially reserved place in the garage. The car was apparently Jade’s, as he was the one who began to drive the two of you and Floyd to some other location. Floyd was sitting next to you in the backseat of the car and was in a positively giddy mood, acting no different from a child whose parents had agreed to buy him his favourite toy. 

“Uh… So, where are we going?” you asked, finally breaking the silence that had previously only been filled by the soft jazz music playing in Jade’s car. “Home,” answered Jade simply, not taking his eyes off of the road. Furrowing your eyebrows, you questioned, “What do you mean by that? Are you driving me back home, or…” Jade chuckled amusedly, but Floyd was the one who replied, “Don’tcha get it yet, Shrimpy? You’re ours now. Your old home isn’t your home anymore! Your new home’s with us, ehe~” 

You felt tears spring to your eyes, but furiously willed them not to fall while digging your nails into your palm. You absolutely could not allow yourself to show any weakness in front of these two. They would just eat it up and use it against you later down the line. Suddenly, you felt something touch your thigh, making you jump. It was Floyd, who had splayed his palm across the upper part of your leg. He looked at you with a razor-sharp grin, drawling, “Aww, is lil’ Shrimpy gonna cry~? Thaaat’s okay! You can cry with us. You’re safe.” 

Floyd’s words finally caused the metaphorical dam holding back your emotions to collapse. You shoved his hand off of your thigh and screamed, “Safe? Safe?! How could you possibly suggest that I’m safe?! I should be at home, with my parents, doing whatever the fuck I want with my life… instead of in a car with two monsters who have no regard for my feelings! Why did you two even want me anyway?! I should be worth nothing to you, so… Give me back my life!”

Through your outburst, you hadn’t even noticed that the car had stopped and the three of you had arrived at your destination. As you sobbed and sobbed, angrily pushing away any attempt Floyd made to touch you again, Jade’s smooth voice cut through the air, “Please stop being unreasonable. We have arrived, so exit the car and follow us to your new home.” Clutching at your chest, you yelled, “NO!” Floyd frowned and opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by his twin, “Floyd, can you go and unlock the door? I’ll deal with them.” Begrudgingly, Floyd complied and got out of the car, leaving the scene.

You continued to cry in the backseat as Jade exited the driver’s seat and walked over to the back door of the car, opening it and reaching in for you. You flinched away and reflexively swung your arms outwards, hitting him in the chin. He showed no reaction to your punch and leaned towards you, undoing your seatbelt and picking you up with ease. Although you struggled as much as you could, you were no match for Jade’s strength, and he was able to carry you inside the building you had arrived at with little to no trouble.

A few moments later, Jade set you down on a soft surface, and it was then that you finally opened your eyes to observe your surroundings. You seemed to be sitting on a sofa in a very fancily furnished living room. Floyd was next to you, staring at you with an impassive face. His lack of emotion scared you; you were so used to his hyper-expressiveness, and the fact that he was currently poker-faced couldn’t mean anything good. Jade soon joined the two of you, coming into the room from a hallway that you supposed led to the entrance of this house.

“I believe now is a good time to set out some guidelines that we expect you to follow,” Jade began speaking, regarding you with an expression as neutral as his brother’s, “As Floyd said during the drive here, you belong to us now. That much was established in the deal that your parents made with our father: in exchange for giving you to us, their debt would be waived. However, as I’m sure you have guessed, there will be consequences for both you and your parents if you break any of the rules that we will set now.”

Having mostly calmed down from your outburst by now, you faced Jade and asked, “...What kind of consequences?” He gave you a cold, mirthless smile in response. From behind you, Floyd rested his chin on your shoulder and answered in place of his twin, “Weeeell… Nothin’ too bad will happen to you, Shrimpy. But for your parents… You wouldn’t wanna see ‘em dead, would ya?” You froze instantly at his words. “You wouldn’t,” you whispered, fear seeping into your tone. Jade laughed and then grinned at you, showing off his inhumanly sharp teeth. “We would prefer not to, yes. After all, they will be our in-laws soon. But if the situation calls for it, we won’t deny that it is a possibility,” he declared, carefully observing your reaction.

“In-laws… D-Do you two intend to marry me? I… I don’t understand any of what’s happening!” you exclaimed. Now that you had already shown your emotions to them thanks to your patience reaching its limit in the car earlier, it was pointless to hold yourself back anymore. Floyd giggled eerily, his breath tickling your neck. You tried to move away from him, but his arms seized your waist in a vice grip, preventing you from shimmying away. “I dunno why you haven’t gotten it yet, Shrimpy. You’re kinda stupid, huh? That’s okay, though. I like you anyway~” he started, teasingly, running his lips along your neck and making you shiver. You swallowed down your discomfort and questioned, “W-What do you mean…?” 

Chuckling, Jade reached over to take your hands into his. You of course attempted to pull away, but he tightened his grip enough so that you couldn’t. Now that you were caged between both the Leech twins, you felt worse than ever (which was really saying something, considering all the mental turmoil you had been going through for the last twenty-four hours or so). 

“Floyd’s not wrong, you know. One would have to be incredibly dense to not have realized the reason behind us requesting you as our gift… But that’s alright. Your cluelessness is endearing too, I suppose,” Jade remarked in a mocking tone, then cleared his throat and continued in a more serious voice, “But since you seem to have trouble grasping the answer, it would be cruel of us to withhold it from you any longer. The reason why Floyd and I have brought you here is because we love you. And naturally, since we do love you, we wanted to have you, which is why we asked our father to make a deal with your parents. Do you understand now?”

Jade and Floyd… loved you? No, that wasn’t right. This wasn’t love. This was…

You opened your mouth to retort, but you were quickly silenced by Jade pressing his lips to yours in a kiss. Since your mouth had been open, he was able to stick his tongue into it, coiling it around your own. You tried to turn your head away from him, but one of his hands shot up to hold your jaw in place firmly. His other hand pinned both of yours down to your lap. While Jade kissed you, Floyd’s lips ran over your neck from behind. You could feel his smile against your skin, which made you sick. Suddenly, Floyd stopped at one area of your neck and bit down harshly. Your cry was swallowed by Jade’s mouth as he refused to let you pull away even though you were beginning to feel the need to breathe. At the same time, Floyd’s arms tightened painfully around your waist, and you were sure that bruises would soon form there, as well as on your jaw where Jade’s fingers held it in place. 

After what felt like ages, Jade finally pulled away from you, leaving you gasping for breath. Floyd also removed his teeth from your skin, licking at the bite mark he left behind with an airy giggle. “Now that you understand the situation, allow me to continue the topic of rules,” said Jade. He had a slight blush over his countenance as he spoke, which was quite unusual to see from him due to how put-together he always seemed. 

“First of all, outbursts like the one you had earlier will be punished accordingly. However, since the one earlier today was your first, we will let that one slide,” Jade continued, lowering the hand that he’d had on your jaw back to join his other one on your lap, “Secondly, you are not allowed to contact anyone outside of our family. Yes, this includes your parents; however, if you prove to us that you intend to be good, you may be allowed to see them again in the future. And finally, you are to stay in this house unless you are accompanied by one of us. Is that clear?”

To be honest, you had expected more rules than just three (though you supposed that those three were pretty restrictive in and of themselves). Still taken aback from the twins’ earlier actions, you simply nodded in response, figuring that it was better to agree for now. This earned you a laugh from Floyd, who commented, “Look Jade, they’re speechless! Didja like our kisses that much, Shrimpy~?” You turned back towards Floyd to snap at him, but stopped yourself midway. He smirked at you, as if challenging you to say what you wanted to - probably because he wanted an excuse to punish you. When you showed no sign of falling for the bait, he pouted.

Standing up from the couch, Jade offered you a hand and suggested, “Well, it is getting quite late, and we’ve had a long day. Shall we all retire for the night?” You glared up at him and attempted to stand without accepting his “help”, but yelped when Floyd abruptly picked you up and started walking out of the living room on his own accord. “Put me down!” you hissed, narrowly missing Floyd’s cheek with a punch. “Nah, don’t feel like it~” he replied liltingly.

Floyd brought you down a hallway and threw open a door at the end of it. Once he had done so, he waltzed inside the room and plopped you down onto a bed. Your eyes widened as you took in the room. It was furnished exactly the way you liked it. The colour scheme was exactly like the one in your bedroom at home, and there were even some of your personal items that you recognized among the decorations. The only difference was that the room was much larger than yours, and so was the bed - it was so big that it looked like it could fit three people. 

Using your confusion to his advantage, Floyd joined you on the bed and pinned you underneath him in a matter of a few seconds. The grin that he flashed down at you was downright predatory, and he declared, “Now it’s time to do what I’ve been waiting to, ehe~” You heard the door close and lock as Jade entered the room, taking a seat on the bed next to the two of you. “Surprised? I designed this room for you. I thought you would like it,” he remarked casually, as if the fact that he’d gotten the design nothing short of perfect wasn’t creepy. It was like the outfit he’d chosen for you for the party: perfectly catered to you in every way possible.

Before you could reply, Floyd crashed his lips onto yours from above, taking your breath away. You moaned in discomfort as he pressed the weight of his body down onto you, completely restricting your movement. His tongue shot into your mouth and explored every corner of it as his teeth clacked against yours and left bloody scratches all over your lips. No matter how much you struggled, you couldn’t win against him. Just as you thought you were about to pass out, Floyd pulled away, moving into a sitting position. His lips had splotches of your blood on them, and so did his teeth when he shot you a toothy smile.

You were so focused on recovering from the rough kiss Floyd had given you that you hadn’t noticed Jade approaching you and beginning to undo the buttons on your outfit. Your hands grasped at his, trying to stop him, but Floyd joined him and quickly held you down so you couldn’t do anything. “S-Stop! I don’t want this!” you shouted, putting as much effort as you could in attempting to get away, however fruitless it may be. Jade ran his lips over your now-exposed collarbone, murmuring, “You had no choice in the matter from the start, dearest.” At the same time, Floyd grabbed your jaw and turned your face towards him, all while adding onto what his twin had said, “After all, if you’re ours, we can do anything we want to ya~ Prepare yourself, Shrimpy. It’s time to have some fun!”

It had always been important to remember that Jade Leech and Floyd Leech never wanted the same thing for their birthday. And now that you were caught in their hold, unable to escape, you found yourself wishing that that fact had never changed.