#dynamic. just earlier that day she could barely look at him and now she's willing to die for him. the change happened in seconds. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

feralthoughtdump · 3 years

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Lover, Be Good To Me

CW: This is just smut, strap on, Loki sucking a strap, pegging, slight d/s dynamics, swearing, a little bit of praise kink, use of ‘mistress’, use of ‘puppy’, sub! Loki, maybe soft dom! reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Despite the soft fur rug, Loki’s knees ache against the floor. He feels his clasped palms become sweaty, but none of that bothers him because he knows what’s about to happen.

“Such a pretty sight to see.” She purrs. “So obedient too.”

He shifts on his knees while her fingers trace the line of his back, her light tough feeling like a tickle.

With his back straight and eager eyes, he can feel his cock harden at the praise.

His mouth water as she steps out of her skirt, revealing the large strap on.

Despite his royal standing and his power, she wields dominance over him. He worships her. Every curve and dip of her body. Every scar and mark on her skin. His power means nothing when she’s around.

As he bites his lip, he watches her wrap the leash around her wrist and tug.

“You know what to do.”

Loki crawls towards her, willing to obey every beck and call she gives him.

When he reaches her, he presses his cheek against her thigh, smiling against her warm skin.

“Such a sweet little puppy.” She runs her hands through his hair, scratching his scalp with her nails. “Don’t you agree?”

The gentleness of her voice stirs the arousal inside of him. He loves it. The way she praises him, the way she cares for him.

He looks up at her with doe eyes and nods.

“Yes, Mistress.” He says.

Submitting to her was always a treat, regardless of how rough she can be.

He whines when she tugs the leash a bit harder, the chain clinking against the metal tag on his collar.

Despite her gentleness, she finds this all kind of amusing. The prince of Asgard, a trickster god, on his knees, giving himself to her, a mere mortal. All of his arrogance, his air of superiority, washed away to reveal his submissive nature.

She traces his Cupid’s bow with her fingers and he pokes his tongue out to playfully lick them.

“You want my fingers darling?”

He nods his head, already heavy-lidded.

“Ask nicely.”

He tilts his head up to meet her eyes.

“Please, Mistress. Can you put your fingers in my mouth?”

Her smile is gentle when she slips a finger past his lips.

His eyes shut as he swirls his tongue around her digit.

A needy whine passes through his lips when she pulls her hand away but he quickly quiets down when he feels her pointer and middle finger press down on his tongue.

She hums.

“You like having something to suck on, sweetheart? Like having your mouth filled?”

He moans around her fingers, all needy and desperate.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

A pout crosses his face when he finds his mouth once again, empty.

“Oh, don’t cry, puppy.” She caresses his face with a cool hand. “I’ll give you something much better to suck on.”

He noses at the silicone cock and she chuckles.

“You know what to do. Open up.” She demands.

She shoves the strap past his lips and he obediently sucks on it, slicking it up with his saliva.

A groan passes her lips.

“Fuck, puppy, you really want it, don’t you?”

He closes his eyes and obediently sucks on it, an occasional gag echoing through the room.

She pushes her hips forward, forcing the strap to the back of his throat

He pulls away with a gasp, spit dripping down his swollen lips.

She slaps the strap against his cheek.

“Come on, put it back in.” She orders.

He wraps his lips around it once more, bobbing his head, eyes screwing shut. It was toeing the line of being a bit too big for his mouth, but he doesn’t object.

“Eyes up here, Mistress wants to see that pretty face.”

He blinks his watery eyes open, tears starting to stream down his face.

She lets go of the leash to gently wipe his tears away.

“Oh love,” She murmurs. “You’re such a pretty crier, you know that?”

Her hands still his head and she thrusts into his mouth. He chokes and grabs at her thighs but he quickly clasps them back in his lap at a loud “hands off.”

“Get it wet.” She barks. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

She thrusts her hips against his face at a brutal pace, the sounds of gagging and choking filling the room.

“You look so pretty choking on my cock.” She murmurs, “so, so pretty.”

He hums in bliss and sucks harder, ignoring his struggle to breathe.

She pulls at his hair, pulling him off of the strap.

“Now,” she gives the leash a downward tug. “Bend over. Mistress wants to fuck your pretty ass.”

As he settles on his hands and knees, she pulls the leash forward.

“No, like this.” He yelps when his face is pressed against the cool marble. “Much better.”

Loki bites his lip in anticipation when she traces her fingers down his back.

A cry leaves his lips when she slowly presses a wet finger in his hole.

“Hush.” She grabs his hip, nails digging into his skin. “You’re so tight, I have to open you up first.”

It hurts in the best way, the stretch increasing the ache within him.

This goes on for what feels like forever. He realizes that she’s using this as an opportunity to tease him. Get him as desperate as possible.

Loki hates to admit it, but it’s working. He could probably cum right this moment, but he’s aware of what will happen.

The bruises on his ass and thighs only recently just faded. He shivers at the memory.

A second finger pushes inside of him and he gasps.

He wails in both pain and pleasure when she scissors her fingers, opening him up.

“Oh, puppy,” she coos, “how are you supposed to take my cock if you can barely handle two of my fingers?”

“I can take it.” He whines. “I-“

His words are cut off with a sob when she lands a hard smack on his ass.

“Did I ask you to speak?” She retorts. “You were so good earlier, but if you want to misbehave, I could just shove a toy in your ass and refuse to touch you. Would you like that, darling?”

He viciously shakes his head, the thought of losing her touch was painful. He’d rather get ruthlessly spanked.

“No! I’m sorry! I’ll be good, I promise!”

Her gentle voice returns.

“‘Mmm. I know you can be a good boy. Just relax, I’ll take such good care of you.”

He tries not to clench around her fingers, but when she presses against his prostate, he can’t help it.

“Come on, relax. It’ll feel a lot better.”

He takes a deep breath and tries his best to release the tension in his body.

“Ooh, much better.” She hums. “Does that feel nice?”

He takes shallow breaths and nods.

“Yes.”

“Good. Very good.”

He feels her fingers slip out of him, only to be replaced with something much larger nudging at his hole.

Loki whimpers when she slowly pushes her strap in. Despite preparing him with her fingers, the stretch still hurt. He hisses and curls his fingers into fists.

“Oh puppy,” she coos, rubbing his hip. “Does that hurt?”

He nods his head

“Yes, mistress.”

“But does it feel good?”

He gasps when she pushes in deeper.

“So good.” He cries. “It feels so good.”

“So cute.” She sneers. “Falling apart on my cock.” Her hand tightens on the leash to give her more leverage. “I’m going to fuck you so hard, you won’t be able to sit on that golden throne of yours for days.”

Her hips thrust forward, pushing the rest of her strap into him.

Loki yelps and a tear slides down his cheek.

“Fuck.” He whines. “Feels- feels so good.”

“Mm. I bet I can make you feel better.”

One of her hands slides around his thigh and a finger traces up the length of his cock.

Loki throws his head back with a groan. The sensation of being stretched around her strap as well as her playfully teasing his cock overwhelms him.

She pulls at the leash with a rough hand and his back is flushed to her chest.

A hand grips his chin to turn his face to her and he’s met with her mouth pressing against his.

The angle at which she’s fucking him pushes the strap deeper, making him whine and sob into her mouth.

“Such a good boy.” She gasps. “Taking my cock so well.”

He’s borderline out of breath, the only sounds being gaspy breaths and whimpers.

“Are you a good boy?” She growls into his ear. When she doesn’t receive a response, she lands a loud slap on his ass. “Answer me!”

“Yes!” He sobs. “I’m a good boy! I’m your good boy.”

Her thrusts into him quicken and she squeezes her hand tighter around his cock.

“Then be a good boy and cum. Cum all over my hand.”

“I-” He pants, “I can cum?”

She wraps her arm around his hips and pulls him down on her cock, the tip pressing against his prostate.

“Aww, even when you’re falling apart, you’re still so good for me.” She licks a stripe up his neck. “Of course you can cum.”

He squirms as she pumps her hand, slick with spit and precum, up and down his cock. The pressure building inside of him was becoming far too much as he tumbles over the edge, sobbing as hot spurts of cum cover her hand and his stomach.

He rolls onto his back, careful not to get his cum on the floor. She holds herself up with her arms, panting and sweating from the physical exertion.

After a minute, she removes the harness and crawls over to him. He whines, overly sensitive when she licks off the cum from his stomach.

She gently cradles his face in her hands and shushes him.

“It’s okay, you’re okay.” She coos. “I’m right here.”

He relaxes into her touch and lets her rub her thumb across his tear-stained cheek.

“You were so good for me.” She murmurs. “You took me so well. Such a good boy.”

She frowns at the sight of his knees. Tenderly, she grazes her fingers over the bruises about to form.

“I think I’ll need to get you a cushion. Don’t want you hurting more than you have to.”

He tiredly whines and tugs her towards him.

“It’s okay. I like it.”

His grip on her tightens when she tries to get up.

“Love, I need to get you some water.” She nuzzles into his neck. “You had a long night.”

“I don’t want you to go.” He whimpers. “Please don’t go.”

She sighs and cradles his head against her chest.

“I won’t, I’ll stay with you.”

Her gentle hands card through his hair, slowing his rapidly beating heart. As his breath slows, she calmly unbuckles the collar around his neck and tosses it aside.

“I’ll just clean you up in the morning.” She murmurs, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. “Get some rest, darling.”

She doesn’t sleep until he relaxes into her body, warm breath tickling her skin. Her fingers card through his sweaty hair, the locks feeling soft in her hands. Slowly, she lets her eyes close, sleep overtaking her tired body.

#loki #loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki x reader smut #sub!loki #sub!loki x reader #loki fanfic

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mypoisonedvine · 3 years

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The Summer Before College | Marcus Moreno x reader

summary: just because you got some good scholarships doesn't mean you couldn’t use some extra cash. luckily, babysitting for a family friend has been a steady side gig for you. rule number one of babysitting: don't let your wandering eye rest for too long on the hot single dad.

word count: 4.7k

warnings: smut (dub con elements? but she’s into it lol don’t worry), age gap (he’s 40-something, reader’s 18/19), loss of virginity, pussy spanking (like, once), lots of petnames and ‘good girl’s, not a dark fic but kinda pushing it, not explicitly dad's best friend trope but it has that energy and I've decided that he is in fact friends with the reader's dad

a/n: this has basically nothing to do with the movie. he’s just a hot dad. don’t overthink it.

You knew the walk to the Moreno's by now: down two blocks from your house, take a right at San Vicente, a left on Birch, a few houses down and you're there. With your full backpack weighing on your shoulders it felt longer than usual, but you made it anyways and knocked on the front door.

"It's open!" a voice called from inside, and you turned the knob and swung the door open.

You almost regretted wearing your tiniest jean shorts, from the way Mr. Moreno did a double take when you walked in. But hey, it was the middle of summer and he would never look at you like that— you were just his daughter's babysitter, ever since you were sixteen; he was probably just surprised to see that you were wearing something other than your school uniform. Maybe some part of you wished he would look at you like that…

Missy called your name, tearing you from your thoughts, jumping up when she saw you and beaming as she rushed to give you a hug. "Hey!" you greeted in return.

“Thanks again for doing this,” Mr. Moreno nodded in your general direction, apparently already dressed for whatever it was he had to do, slipping on his jacket from where it hung on a hook by the door. "She's already had dinner, so just homework and bedtime," he explained to you as you nodded dutifully.

"Bedtime? Dad, I'm not a little kid anymore," Missy rolled her eyes.

"Okay, you're a big kid and you need to be asleep by 10. It's a school night."

She huffed but didn't protest, and you joined her on the couch because she wanted to show you some drawings she’d done earlier that day. "Bye, Dad!" Missy waved when he left, and he turned back quickly to blow a kiss in her direction.

Once you helped her finish her homework (frankly, you didn't have to do that much— she's a smart kid), the two of you enjoyed some video games before you finally got her to start getting ready for bed.

It was cute how confident Missy was that she wouldn’t be able to fall asleep, only for her to be snoring within five minutes of her head hitting the pillow. You were envious of how easily she could sleep; you could kill an hour just tossing and turning and readjusting your blanket. But that wasn’t going to be your problem tonight: you weren’t going to sleep yet, until the man of the house returned, meaning all you had to do was wait.

Even in summer, having already graduated, you had plenty of work to do while you waited for Mr. Moreno. Knowing what classes you had in the fall, you bought your textbooks a bit early and planned on reading them all before the semester began. You’d already gotten through Philosophy Through the Ages and now you continued from where you left off in the middle of Introductory Physics.

What surprised you was that you had time to finish that one, too. You had anticipated that Mr. Moreno would be back before you made it to the module on fluid dynamics, but you reached the index at a quarter past midnight and he was still gone. You shrugged and picked up the next one— A Book of Luminous Things: An International Anthology of Poetry— hoping he was alright and that he’d be back soon.

You had to make yourself some coffee when 1 a.m. rolled around; tired, anxious, and distracted, you realized this was probably not the best state to be attempting to study in, but you didn’t feel like you had a choice. You didn’t want to fall asleep here, you’d promised to watch Missy and you couldn’t exactly do that while asleep… plus, he would probably be back any minute now. Sure, you’d been saying that to yourself for nearly an hour and a half now, but it was more true than ever.

It was another hour and a half, though, until his car pulled into the driveway and he pushed through the front door, prompting you to set aside your textbook.

“Good evening,” you greeted, standing up. He looked a little disheveled— but it worked for him, with that curly hair all messed up in just the right way. Maybe it was just that it was late or that it was the rare time you saw him without Missy around, but there was a darkness about him now, not sinister so much as just purely intimidating. It was like you hadn’t really taken him seriously before, and now you were appreciating that you should have.

“She’s asleep?” he assumed, glancing over to the hallway which his daughter’s bedroom was positioned at the end of before slipping his jacket off and hanging it by the door.

“It’s half past two, so… I really hope so,” you chuckled.

“Shit, is it that late already?” he groaned, glancing at his watch.

“Did you not notice?”

“I.. got carried away.”

You didn’t want to know what he’d been out so late for. It was none of your business, and you figured you were better off without any secrets to keep— you’d never been so good at keeping secrets, even your own.

“Been studying this whole time?” he noticed as he glanced at the textbooks on the couch, grinning a little. It sort of felt like he was mocking you, and it made your cheeks warm as you nodded. “What a good girl.”

That made a cold tingle crawl up your spine. Sure, other students had called you that before, and plenty of your teachers, but when he said it, like that… it felt entirely new. “I try,” you managed to respond eventually.

“You’ll do well in college, I bet.”

“You think so?” you beamed.

“Yeah,” he nodded confidently. There was something comforting about the way he smiled at you; yet, there was something predatory about the way his eyes glanced down your body and back up slowly.

As you turned and bent over to pick up your textbooks off the couch, you could tell that he had stepped closer; you could just barely hear the soft noise of his footsteps on his carpet, just barely feel the warmth of him behind you, just barely pick up on the slow, thoughtful breath he took in and out through his nose.

Standing back up slowly, you felt him do it again, right against your neck.

“M-Mr. Moreno,” you stammered, shivering when his hands gripped you on either arm. Not a tight grip, per se, but one that made his strength obvious.

“You don’t have to call me that,” he breathed. “Not when we’re alone.”

Not that you really had any plan on how to respond to that, but if you had, it would've been forgotten as his lips brushed over your neck, leaving teasing kisses in a trail over your pulse.

"Wait—" you blurted out instinctively when his hands moved to your waist, cut off by your own shaky sigh and suppressed moan. “What if she wakes up?” you questioned anxiously, glancing down the hallway and hoping you wouldn’t find Missy there, watching her dad feeling you up— and you letting him, not just that but enjoying it. Of course, the hallway was deserted, but you couldn’t feel certain it would stay that way.

“She won’t,” he assured. “Not if you can be a good girl and stay quiet.”

You made a little whimpering noise as you wondered if you could. You didn’t know how, really; you were good at being quiet when you were alone, but being alone had never felt like this. Forbidden, sexy, terrifyingly wonderful… nothing had ever felt like this.

“Do you want me to stop?” he purred, sounding like he already knew the answer.

“No,” you answered a little too quickly, “please… please don’t stop.”

“Yeah, I thought so,” he grinned. “Tell me what you do want.”

“I want…” you sighed and started over again, willing yourself to speak your thoughts aloud even though they made a pit of guilt sink in your stomach. "I want you to make me feel good."

You knew it was a sort of childish way of putting it, even before he laughed at your statement, but you weren't sure what else to say. "Yeah? I can do that," he decided. "But I can make you feel good in so many ways…" he trailed off as his right hand slipped lower and lower, finally landing between your legs as you gasped. Two fingers slid over the crotch of your shorts, and somehow he managed to bump against something that made electricity shoot up your spine and your hips buck into his touch of their own accord. You felt his smile widen as his teeth grazed against the sensitive skin of your neck. "You'll have to be more specific," he finally finished. "How do you want me to make you feel good?"

"Inside me," you whined, "I want you inside me."

There was a sudden shift as it seemed like the control he had over you suddenly did not extend to himself; he growled a bit and pulled you into him, and you could feel the hard shape of his cock, through his trousers and your shorts. You could feel it pressed just above your ass and it made you squirm against his embrace. "Feel what you do to me?" he grunted, and you nodded quickly. "Good."

He spun you around quickly, pulling you close to him and burning right through you with those brown eyes darker than ever, but just as you thought he might kiss you, he spoke instead.

“My bedroom’s upstairs,” he informed you quietly.

You just nodded, following him as he pulled you along through the house, up the stairs and past the door to the master bedroom of the house.

Now that you hadn’t seen it coming, of course, was when he chose to grab you and kiss you suddenly. It was rough and passionate and nothing like you could've imagined; you were certain you'd never been kissed like this, like he needed to kiss you more than he needed anything.

Your arms slipped around his neck as he pushed you back against the wall, lifting your legs to wrap around his waist as he kicked the door shut behind the two of you. Little moans were muffled by the kiss— and it took you a minute to realize they were yours. You didn’t even sound like yourself; probably because you’d never felt like this before, and therefore had never had any reason to sound like this.

You could feel his cock between your legs, though unfortunately not in the way you wanted. Still, it drove you wild to have him so close like this, to try to imagine how the thick shape you were feeling would ever fit inside you.

His hands were so strong and thick that you worried they’d stretch out your tank top just by reaching under it— well, that is you would have worried about that if you could think about anything else but his hands reaching under your tank top. He didn’t even waste his time touching you over your bra, instead making quick work of the clasps with one hand before coming back to grope one breast in his palm, then the other. Just that was enough to make you run your fingers into his hair, but a little pinch to your raised nipple made your fists tighten and pull— you didn’t mean to, and you were just about to feel bad about it until he growled a little. It seemed like a growl of approval, considering he pinched your nipples harder to make you do it again.

“Feels good?” he asked with annoying (yet arousing) confidence.

“S-so good,” you slurred, stumbling over your words as you tried to think as clearly as possible through the thick haze of pleasure clouding your mind.

As he guided you to set your legs down and unhook your arms from around his neck, you felt a bit like a doll being posed; when he pulled your top over your head and your bra from your arms, you felt like a doll being undressed. You sort of didn’t mind it; you were happy to let him take the lead, confident he knew at least 100% more about this than you did.

He knelt down before you as he roughly pulled at your tight jean shorts, his knuckles nearly bruising your hips as he stripped you. Your underwear were not the pair you would’ve worn if you had known somebody was going to see them, just a plain dark blue color that made you feel so drab as he came face-to-face with them. He didn’t seem to mind much, grinning up at you as he slipped his fingers under them and pulled them down, too. Your face was so hot and yet your legs were breaking out into goosebumps simultaneously, and a shiver rolled up your body when he growled at the sight of your body laid bare for him. Before you could even process it, he stood up and grabbed you, tossing you back onto the bed and spreading your legs.

“Fuck, what a pretty little pussy,” he praised with a smile that made you feel a little light-headed, swirling a few fingers over your swollen button until pulling them back to spank you there— it wasn’t even that hard, but you yelped and jolted and he laughed darkly. “So sensitive,” he purred, his words walking a fine line between a compliment and a taunt, “so wet.”

Another finger slipping down to your entrance proved him right, your arousal plentiful as his touch glided through your folds.

Suddenly overcome with a moment of bravery, you sat up and fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, making him smile down at you. “Let me help you,” he offered as he worked the buttons instead, freeing you to try to open his belt. “Look at you, acting so desperate…”

At this point, you weren’t even offended by that; you wanted him so bad that you didn’t have the energy to be embarrassed by it anymore.

He slipped the shirt off of his shoulders just as you finished opening the belt. He pushed your hands away, and now you could see the muscles in his arms flexing as he held you down by your wrists. “You’re getting ahead of yourself, señorita,” he purred.

Why did feeling powerless to him turn you on so much? There was no real fear to it— you knew and trusted him, you would never have developed your misguided crush on him if you didn’t— and yet there was a strong edge of uncertainty as he kissed your neck and moved down your chest, between your breasts before he stopped to kiss those, too.

“Oh god,” you breathed, and he smiled against your skin before sitting up and staring down at you. It wasn’t apparent if it was distant streetlights or the moonlight shining in through the window, but either way it cast a cold blue light into the room that reflected as a glimmer in his eyes.

“Not gonna make you wait any longer,” he promised in a low voice, reaching down to push his unbuttoned belt and trousers to his thighs— those thick, muscular thighs that made your lip catch between your teeth.

Your breath caught, too, but in your lungs this time as his cock was exposed: thick, swollen, veiny… it looked picturesque, if thoroughly intimidating. You couldn’t figure out if you wanted to move towards it or sheepishly crawl away.

"Why do you look scared?" he asked, his voice so much deeper than you remembered it from before, even if there was genuine concern somewhere in his tone.

"Is it gonna hurt?" you asked instead of answering.

"Baby…" he sighed huskily, "are you a virgin?"

You bit your lip and looked away, irritated that you hadn't managed to hide your fear enough to keep your secret.

He sighed, your silence apparently answer enough.

"Do you not want to, anymore?" you asked anxiously, afraid you had completely killed the mood. Part of the reason it'd taken you this long to lose it was specifically because people seemed intimidated by the idea of being your first.

"No, no, I— no," he asserted sternly. "I just need to… change my approach, slightly.”

He leaned down a bit, hovering over you as he trailed his hand up your leg, rubbing the inside of your thigh before finally drawing circles over your aching clit with his thumb, causing you to shiver and moan quietly.

“And, to answer your question, it won’t hurt. Not if I get you good and ready for me,” he explained, pushing just one finger into you— and even that small of a stimulation made your eyes flutter shut, with his fingers being so much thicker and stronger than yours.

The second made your fists clench around the satin-y sheets beneath you. You didn’t dare open your eyes, knowing you’d find him staring down at you and you weren’t ready for that, weren’t ready to see his reaction to your body in such a vulnerable state. You could hear his reaction, though, with the rough groans and satisfied sighs he let out as he pumped his fingers into you.

When three fingers filled you, your eyes shot open. “Fuck!” you yelped.

He smiled but slowed down, apparently taking some pity on you— but not enough to stop him from pressing down harder on your clit.

Just when you figured he’d warmed you up enough and he’d fuck you like he promised, he slid lower and the bed and bent down, adding his tongue into the mix with his fingers. It was… overwhelming, and hot, not just psychologically but literally: it was physically hot, as in temperature. How was his mouth so warm against you, and his fingers so warm inside you?

When he latched his lips around your clit and sucked on it, you saw stars. Energy gathered in your gut and burned so bright that you thought you might explode. Really, it was more like an implosion as the coil inside you snapped and your thighs accidentally clamped down on his hand. It didn’t faze him though, it didn’t even slow him down as he moaned a little against you and curled his fingers even harder. You didn’t remember reaching down to grab his head, you just felt his hair between your fingers as you pulled it roughly, gasping his name.

When he did stop, sitting up and wiping his face with the back of his hand, you just looked back up at him as you caught your breath. He laughed, and you realized you were gawking unintentionally.

“I’m guessing you’ve never come like that before?” he ventured. You didn’t know if ‘like that’ meant from oral or just so suddenly and intensely, but it was true either way so you nodded.

When he reached down to grip his cock with the same hand still wet with your slick, you held your breath without realizing it. “Please put it in me,” you whimpered.

“I will,” he assured as he guided the head of it through your slick folds, stopping to tease your clit as you jolted from the contact on the sensitive nerves. Something surreal and indescribable tingled under your skin— you could hardly believe that this was happening, let alone with him, with Mr. Moreno. Or, Marcus. You were on a first-name basis by now, surely.

He pushed forward in one smooth, slow stroke until he was all the way inside you, his body filling yours to the brim as you quivered from the sensation of being stretched so wide.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked roughly.

“...almost,” you answered hesitantly, unsure how to describe the sensations you were feeling; not exactly pain, but not not pain. The favorite pain you’d ever felt in your life, easily.

He chuckled as he gripped your hips a little tighter. "I'm gonna move now," he announced. You nodded your approval, sighing shakily as he pulled his hips back and you felt the intoxicating friction of his cock against your walls.

"Ffffuck," you whimpered, gasping when he slammed his hips forward again. Your eyes rolled back in your head when he pushed as deep into you as he could with each thrust, still measured but not exactly gentle as he set a pace faster than you’d prepared for. But it was good, god it was so fucking good you weren’t sure what to do with yourself. "Marcus," you sighed, barely recognizing your own voice when it was heavy with need and arousal like this.

He grinned when he heard his name cross your lips, grinding his hips against yours for emphasis until you were forced to arch your back. "You like it rough, don't ya, honey?"

You nodded, confident that you liked it however he was doing it.

"Fuck, I knew it. Knew as soon as I saw you."

Before you could wonder what he meant by that, he was already moving fast enough to make your head spin. You had never had anything so deep inside you before, and when he pushed your legs up and back against your chest, you had no choice but to scream with pleasure.

Just before you reached the peak of it though, his hand clamped down over your mouth to muffle the sound. "Gotta be quiet," he reminded you through his teeth before relaxing his hand a bit so you could still be heard somewhat

"I can't," you whined, "Marcus, please, I can't stay quiet—"

"You have to."

"Feels too good," you whimpered your excuse. "F-fuck, slow down, I won't be able to stop it—"

He cut you off with a kiss, slow yet dominating, and your moans were muffled by his lips. You still sounded so loud in your own head, but at least your cries weren't echoing against the walls of his room anymore.

What was echoing were the sounds of skin slapping on skin as he pounded into you, roughly finding every delicate spot within you and making the backs of your thighs sore as his hips slammed into them. It forced your hands to grip at his muscular shoulders and your nails to dig into the skin there. You hoped there would be little half-moon shaped marks there tomorrow, maybe one would even scar so he'd have your mark on his body forever; after all, he'd carved a permanent space in your body by taking your virginity. Even if you couldn't dream of being as special to him as he was to you, you liked the idea of giving him something that he couldn't give back.

That energy was building again, different from before but no less powerful and persistent. "I'm gonna— fuck, I'm gonna come, I'm so close," you whispered.

“Yeah? Go ahead," he encouraged. "I wanna see you fall apart just for me, wanna feel you come around my cock."

You hadn't realized he'd be able to feel it, and the idea of that was so filthily beautiful that it pushed you over the edge, your whole body tensing up in sudden waves of pleasure so intense that it made your eyes water.

Through the static filling your ears, you heard his low, husky voice encouraging you: "Good girl, just like that, don't fucking stop."

You'd always been powerless to his voice, but this was another level. It was as if your body understood and met his demands, continuing to ride the peak of your sensation so long as he growled in your ear just right.

It was much too tender, the way he brushed the stray hair away from your face, the way he kissed your slack mouth again, the way he held you tighter and mumbled more praises to you. It was more romantic than it had any right to be, and you had to bite back the words of affection threatening to spill out of your mouth.

I love you, you wanted to tell him, I've loved you for years, but it was beyond inappropriate. You didn't want to play the role of the innocent virgin who thinks sex means being in love and lets herself catch feelings for the older man who is just taking what he wants and, at best, doing her a favor so she doesn't have to go off to college and get her cherry popped there. Maybe that was accurate, but that wasn't who you wanted to be.

You wanted to be sexy, and mature, and in control. You wanted to play a new rule, one that still felt foreign and yet closer than ever. So you wrapped your legs around his hips and held him deeper in you, smiling with a little growl of your own.

"I want you to come inside me," you informed him with a purr, loving the little moment of shock that passed over his face before he groaned, fucking you a little faster and more erratically.

"Fuck, really?" he rasped.

You bit your lip as you looked up at him through half-lidded eyes and nodded.

"You're on the pill?"

Another nod, this one finished off with a shiver as you wondered how much more of this your body could take.

He grinned and picked up the pace again, his moans getting a little louder with each movement. "Fuck, I'm gonna come— gonna fill up your tight little pussy, is that what you want?"

You nodded feverishly, already close to the edge again as you imagined what it would be like to have his come in you for the rest of the night. Was he going to make you walk home with it leaking out from between your legs? Why did that idea make your inner muscles involuntarily tighten around him?

With a string of curses and a grip on your thigh tight enough to bruise, he reached his own peak and you felt his cock flex and pulse inside you, a new warmth filling your gut from the inside out.

It's hard to say how long the two of you stayed like that, since you were busy basking in the afterglow (and, less enjoyably, worrying about the consequences that tomorrow morning would bring).

When he pulled out and collapsed beside you, you wondered if you should get up and get dressed.

"Stay here tonight," he instructed you, as if somehow a response to your internal thought. "Your folks won't freak out if you're out all night, right?"

"I'll just tell them I slept over at your place," you shrugged. With a confused look from him, you clarified: "on the couch."

"Right," he nodded as he wrapped you in his arms and pulled you closer, letting you rest your head in the crook of his neck. In this way and in so many others, it was how you expected (and hoped) losing your virginity would go: someone you trust and who cares about you, with enough attention on you that you didn't feel much pain, plus cuddling afterwards. But, in even more ways, it was unlike what you'd ever thought possible: it felt incredible and you came so hard that your ears were still kind of ringing, you didn't use a condom or even think to mention it, and finally— and most absurdly— it was with Marcus fucking Moreno.

Frankly, considering his performance earlier, "fucking" very well could be his middle name.

"You should sit for me again next week," he suggested quietly.

"Do you have somewhere to go?"

"No," he grinned, "but I'll be sure to come back real late, after she's gone to bed, so I can show you all the other ways I can make you feel good."

"H-how many ways are there?!"

He just laughed, pulling you closer and placing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “Oh, sweetheart… so smart, but so innocent. We can fix that.”

You weren’t sure entirely which of those two things he intended on fixing.

#marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno smut #marcus moreno x you #marcus moreno x y/n #pedro pascal x reader

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punkgrogg · 3 years

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Doorway Duo pt.4

Pairing: Hybrid!Taehyung x Reader, Hybrid!Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Hybrid!BTS, Non idol AU, fluff

Warnings: Pregnancy

Summary: Y/n was abandoned by her long time boyfriend and moves back home to help prepare for the baby. She’s surprised to find two unfamiliar hybrids at her house.

Length: 2,884

Notes: Okay I got a new laptop :) and I started a new job so I've been a bit busy but I should have a new chapter out sometime next week

Date Posted: 9/13/2021

“Come on, we don’t have all night. Let’s talk this out, communication is key.” That only caused them to meander their way in, softly shutting the door behind them with an audible click in this silence. Jungkook settled in at the foot of my bed but Taehyung stood next to him, his form rigid. The room had a tense air about it, the two refusing to speak. “Okay, fine, You don’t want to start then I will. Taehyung, how long have you been scenting me without me knowing ?”

“We both have,” Jungkook interjected. His face was resigned into one that expected only the worst outcome.

Well, that didn’t answer my question. “How long?”

“The second week after I met you. I’ve been scenting you since then, Jungkook has only scented you since we ran into that asshole at the grocery store.” Tae spoke up finally but kept his eyes trained on the floor.

That did make sense but I was confused why Hobi never noticed.“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I thought you knew since Hoseok scents you constantly so after a few days I joined in and started to scent you too. I didn’t know you were oblivious until about a month ago when Hoseok noticed I was on you and you laughed him off. I realized I should probably talk to you about it since you’re dense when it comes to hybrids. But I didn't stop, I kept the pheromones low so I could keep you claimed in between then and now.”His body language was stiff, his eyes trained on the hardwood floors while he clenched his hands at his sides. He looked both defiant and scared, a combination that I would never have expected from the snow leopard.

The possessiveness that permeated the word ‘claimed’ ruffled a few of my feathers and I couldn’t help exclaiming: “You claimed me? What the fuck Tae?”

Taehyung finally looked up, his eyes much softer than I expected, he reached out for me and gently held my hand. “No, it's not what you think. It helps me know you’re okay. I knew something was wrong earlier because the pheromones soured all of a sudden so I ran down to you. Jungkook can attest! With both of our scents entwined with yours, it's easy to know when you’re not okay.”

“It’s why I noticed your pheromones changed with the babies.” Jungkook chimed in once again, he was letting Taehung do all the talking, typical Kookie.

I pulled my hands away to rub my forehead, frustrated a bit at how it just wasn’t clicking for me. A lot of useful information that means jack-shit to me when beating around the bush. “But what does this all mean? You mentioned pack earlier, what does that mean?”

“Well, a pack is a group of individuals who care for each other. It was more common among our grandparents but hybrids our age are bringing the idea back since the laws are changing for us to have more freedoms. By the time the babies are born, I think we’ll be fully independent and we were going to wait until then to tell you about our pack.” Jungkook explained, his hands knotting together under the stress of explaining it to me. I appreciated that he was trying and I knew somehow he was only speaking because of how stressed I looked.

I nodded, that could make sense. “So, we’re all in a pack? Then why did Hobi look so angry when you said that?”

“No, just You, Kook, and I. We are a pack, we claimed you together.” Taehyung finally sat down on the bed with us, his body coiling on the edge as if he was prepared to run at any second.

“Claiming you means we love you Y/n. We want every other hybrid to know that you are loved by us both- so we scent you. It took me a while to do it too but it’s this burning itch under my skin that won't go away until I can smell myself on you. Like Tae said before, when we scent you it helps us keep track of your pheromones so we’re more attuned to if something happens to you.” Jungkook stared deeply into my eyes, his sincere expression willed me to finally understand what they were saying.

Only one thing caught my attention. “It hurts you when you don’t scent me?”

“It drives me crazy, I hate when you don’t smell like me, it’s all I can think about,” Tae explained, his face contrite as he once again reached for my wrist. I let him this time and he lightly rubbed the back of my hand with his thumb. Something he’s done a million times but this felt different.

I swallowed hard at the other major point in Kook’s explanation. “And you think you love me?”

Tae scoffed at that. “We don’t think, We know. You don’t have to love us back but you should at least know how we feel before you send us off.”

“Who said you’re being sent off? So what I reek of you two? It’s not hurting me but we’ll have to set some boundaries if you guys are going to keep doing this.” Both men perked up at that, both coming in closer as if we were huddling on my queen-sized mattress. The change in their moods was soothing to the tension that has bubbled up in my chest. ”First of all, we’ll have to talk about this loving me thing. Then we’ll have to figure out what's going to happen when the shelter is fixed because I'm not too sure when the government is going to get its shit together. Then we’ll have to discuss this whole pack thing a little more- why can’t hobi be a part of it?”

“Whatever you want. We’ll do whatever, but can I scent you now? Since you know, I can do it now right?” I’ve never seen Taehyung so excited, his eyes animated like he was a kid at Christmas. He leaned forward while bracing himself lightly against my shoulders while I nodded apprehensively. “I can do it fully right? No light scents?

At my second nod, Jungkook appeared to my left as he too broached my bubble. “Dammit Tae, you’re stinking up the whole room.”

Jungkook took to rubbing his head and neck against my own while Taehyung was butting me with his head seemingly everywhere- my shoulder, forehead, and a hand held my own close to his chest. Tae dragged his forehead from the right side of my neck down my shoulder and arm to my inner wrist. Once there he delicately kissed my pulse point. Jungkook had my right side occupied, pinning me into place, his shoulders crowding most of my frame. Our necks were pressed firmly together as he started to run his lips along the skin behind my ear before firmly pressing a kiss there.

The feeling of Jungkook kissing behind my ear made me shiver at the sudden affection. Taehyung groaned. “She smells so good now, smell her Kookie, she smells like us both. Like she’s finally part of our pack.”

Jungkook merely grunted in response as he pressed his face into my shoulder while taking in a deep breath. Tae reversed his process and traced his way back up to my neck where he decided to rest his head against my clavicle. I took a steadying breath to calm the tingles erupting across my body.

“Okay, that’s what you guys have been holding back? I’m alright with this happening more regularly, but not in front of others since Joonie looked so offended and I assume it’s a more private thing.” They finally pulled away after what seemed like forever and I could feel the raging blush covering both my cheeks as I tried to calm down at the intimacy. “ Now, onto the love part.”

“I don’t have much else to say, it’s a simple fact for me.” Jungkook shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. He stayed glued to my right side and pulled my arm into his embrace as he played with my fingers idly.

“It’s been three months, you barely know me.” playing with my hand was distracting and there was barely any strength in my argument. It was nice to feel loved but I felt somewhat guilty over this- they deserved much more than I could give them.

“You were meant for us both but if you want us to wait then I’ll hold off on saying it until you’re ready to hear it.” Taehyung raised on his knees and kissed my forehead gingerly.

“You guys can’t be serious.” I shook my head at them both but a quick look at them both showed they had earnest expressions. “Guys what about the shel-”

“Adopt us, as tough as it is right now they’ll allow it especially because you’re living with certified fosters. Then we can’t be separated.” Taehyung spoke matter-of-factly, he reached out and traced lazy patterns on my knee while I stared at him in disbelief.

“I’m not going to adopt you if you guys want to be with me, it’d be a weird dynamic if we went to the doctors and I’d have to sign as your owner .” The thought of them being my property made an acrid taste form in the back of my throat.

“But that’s exactly why you should, we know you’d never see us as lesser and we’ll take good care of not only you but the babies as well.” Jungkook reasoned as he rubbed his cheek against the palm of my hand that he stole.

Another wave of guilty unease at this evolving relationship hit. I was okay with the affection and care that they’ve been supplying but was I okay with the relationship? Those cuddle sessions and tender moments that we’ve had so far now felt much more real and intimate than before. How had I convinced myself that it was platonic? “That’s another reason you guys should reconsider this whole ordeal, it’d be easier for me than you two. Do you want to commit to babies that aren’t even yours.”

A low growl sounded from Kookie’s chest- something I had never heard before. He usually kept his more animalistic traits under a tight leash. He sat up abruptly and reached for my face to make sure my eyes were trained on him while he spoke with a soft gruffness. “They are ours, don’t you even think about saying that again. We are the ones who’ve been supporting you throughout this pregnancy- not that asshole from the store. We tell them stories at night and bring you the food you’re craving. Hell, I rub your feet because of the swelling every time your feet are near me, and Taehyung rubs out the knots in your back when you’ve stood too long. We’ve been here for you the whole time and I know I love them as my babies. I am their dad, more than he would ever be.”

“I guess if you’re dad then I’ll be papa. It has a nice ring to it.” Tae butted in with a smile as Jungkook released me. His smile was so warm it ebbed away any lingering dregs of guilt.

“You guys can’t be serious,” I repeated once again but they were unaffected by whatever I had thrown at them. They were serious.

“Y/n, I’ve been planning this out since I’ve met you, it was love at first sight.” Tae took to holding my face this time, his hands were warm as he stroked my cheek lightly. The love was tangible in how he stared down at me, something I couldn’t ignore any longer.

“Okay, I get it, but what does this mean for us now?” I could hear the fearful hesitation in my voice.

“Nothing has to change sweetheart. We can act just how we always have and the only difference is that you know we love you.” Jungkook nodded along to the ashy-haired man’s assurances.

“Would you be happy with that though? To pretend that nothing has changed even though something has.” My heated tone kept them silent as I collected my thoughts. “Since you’ve claimed me- does that mean you see me as your girlfriend?”

“Well, to be honest, it’s a bit more than that. Girlfriend is a bit fleeting. It's more like you are ours and we are yours- for forever ideally but we don’t want to force that onto you.” Taehyung smiled bashfully as he stuttered through the clarification.

“If it’s more than a girlfriend- do you mean you see me as your wife?” Wow, with just a question I think I broke Taehyung. While he looked like he was blue-screening, Jungkook tried to hide a chuckle.

“For the sake of Taehyung’s face let’s just leave it as girlfriend for now. We can expand on that more later.” Jungkook explained, his smile evident through his words.

“So I'm a girlfriend to both of you and you guys are my boyfriends?” they nodded eagerly at my questioning tone. “Are you also each other’s boyfriends?”

“Uh, while Jungkook is gorgeous, that’s a no. we’re each other's packmates and there is a certain level of love and trust that goes into it but in the end, it's just enough for us to trust each other with you. If that makes sense?” Taehyung trailed off, his face twisted into one of confusion at the word vomit he just spewed.

“I think what Taehyung is trying to say is that we aren’t dating each other. Not that it is impossible for packmates to also get romantically involved with each other - we just haven’t. we’d prefer to share your love and protect each other.” Jungkook tried to salvage the half-baked clarification.

“I am not protecting you Kookie, you are the one with a police background- you’re supposed to protect me while I protect her.” Taehyung suddenly pointed out.

“First of all, how rude. You’re my Packmate, you’re supposed to protect me too asshole.`` Jungkook playfully glared and by the twitching around his chin, I could tell he was fighting back a smile.

“I can’t protect someone who doesn’t need protecting. You are a one-man army, especially when it comes to the pack.”

Jungkook smiled at that and retorted with a: “You tried to fight Hoseok when he tried to separate our rooms at the shelter.”

“He was putting you with that bitch that growled at you when you first joined the group. How else was I supposed to react?” Taehyung had a beautiful blush rush across his face. He was so affectionate usually; so why was he arguing that he wouldn’t protect him?

“He was moving me because you complained about sharing a room with me for two weeks straight.'' Jungkook's exasperation was tangible; maybe they have this argument often?

“You get up before the sun to work out. How else was I supposed to get my beauty rest?” Tae’s argument was a paper-thin excuse. He was absolutely glowing red with his growing blush.

“Admit it in the end, you protect me just as much as I protect you.” Jungkook smiled at him with no mirth, he was done teasing him about it I guess.

That didn’t stop the flat-out refusal of: “I do not.”

“Y/n, wouldn’t you say Taehyung is just as protective of me as I am of him?” asked as he kissed the back of my hand, drawing all my attention to him.

“Tae, honey, you make his plate every night at dinner.” I sheepishly pointed out, a little unsure of how I'd place in this so-called argument. It was more flirting than anything if I was being asked but I guess I'm not the best person to ask since I did not comprehend them coming onto me in the first place.

Pseudo-shock flashed across his face at my statement.“That's because this idiot will only eat carbs and meat if we let him! I make your plate too.”

“That’s only proving my point. You are protective over your packmates.” Jungkook pushed at his shoulder playfully. A way they only ever acted when it was just us three, damn, maybe I should have noticed it sooner. There were definite lines drawn early on when it came to how our dynamic worked and they often showed me sides of themselves that my parents or brothers had never seen.

“That’s it, I'm going downstairs and giving myself over to Namjoon. His torture would be a mercy compared to this.” The drama queen stalked his way to my door and opened it with a flourish while Kookie and I both giggled.

“Tae are you not going to tell the baby a bedtime story?” My question stopped him in his tracks. He froze for just a second before gently swinging the door shut and marching his way back over to the bed with a smile that eclipsed the rest of his face.

“Babies. And of course, I am, tonight we’ll tell them the story of Hansel and Gretel.” He climbed back onto the bed and sprawled across the bottom of the bed and my extended legs. He settled in with his head resting slightly on my left hip before starting on his fairytale. Jungkook was curled up on my right side, still holding my hand captive, and he traced swirls across my forearm with a content smile. There was a warmth in my chest that I had been ignoring for a while, a warmth they only seemed to bring out and I realized I would be devastated if this warmth was to ever disappear.

Sorry, I forgot about my taglist last chapter! here's it as of right now and if you want to be added or taken off let me know!

@jelly-fishy-babie @nomimits7 @littlewolfieposts @fangirl125reader @xeirisarax @ghostkat23 @gayitachiuchiha @forever1313 @nellaphine @kooky-mysterious @rainbow-realm @xanny91 @demonslover @inumorph @uraveragefangirlsposts@alex--awesome--22 @akacamiworld @fangirling-all-the-way-tbh

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sexyglances · 3 years

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Dusik's Self-Isolation, the "Doorkeeper" Poem, and Hyejin's Presence

It's been said many times before about Dusik, but episode ten once again showed how he has dedicated his life to a series of active choices that results in purposeful denial of providing love to himself. He deliberately distances himself from others and tries to deny his love for anything and anyone as a way for repenting against his past 'sins' of loving people who all died too soon.

To Dusik, his love has been nothing but a condemnation to others and himself, and he feels like he must live a life in limbo purgatory as penance, neither giving nor receiving too much companionship, lest he condemn another person via his love. Is his carefree lifestyle that carefree? Or is it his way of willfully keeping himself from attaching to anything? Because life has taught him that if he has strong emotion for something, then that is a harbinger of destruction for what he loves.

All the people he cared for most in his life died too suddenly and too early in his life, before he could process how to say a proper goodbye. And he feels directly responsible for at least one of their deaths--we see him say so explicitly to both his therapist in general and in more detail to Hyejin about his grandfather. To Dusik, his grandfather died because he let himself love soccer more than being vigilant, even though he didn't know there was anything to be vigilant for at the time. Then after his last loss in his mysterious five years away from Gongjin, it seems like Dusik abandoned direct expressions of love for anybody. He learned that vigilance is the only expression of love that he should offer other people.

Staying vigilant of other people's needs while also staying vigilant of not getting too close is his way of protecting other people for their needs and from himself. This is partly why he tried to deny his feelings for Hyejin for so long, dancing between the friend zone and something more. (As an aside, this focus on his own vigilance may also play into his love for photography. He seems drawn to capturing moments to look back on, not wanting moments to pass by unnoticed.)

As part of his vigilance, Dusik created a life for himself back in Gongjin as an unemployed jack-of-all-trades, a fix-it man, an unofficial neighborhood chief that can show up at a moment's notice when help is needed. Dusik has made himself into a person that can be reliable in any situation. And he threw himself into that role by learning as many trades as possible so he could fix any problem, from HVAC repair to barista certification to fruit carving and anything in between. But even though he wants to be known as a reliable entity in town, he also makes sure to position himself as a periphery figure only. He only shows up from outside other people's routine lives. He purposefully does not live on any fixed schedule that is permanently tied to anyone else, and he surrounds himself with a thick air of detachedness. This is how he ensures he can't become an albatross to anyone's life again. He can't be accountable for destruction of life if he's simply a hired part-timer and a neighborhood helper; and nothing with any inherent responsibility that can't be explained away by utility rather than love.

Sure, he's a chief that other people turn to for help, but he rejects anything more official than being a helpful neighbor. He refuses to express his love for individual people because experience has taught him that his love can destroy lives, so he only shows his love for the people of Gongjin as part of a whole entity, detaching himself from anything that can be seen as preference for individual people. This is something Chunjae noted in their conversation the night Juri ran away. Dusik accepts other people's problems and their joys, but he doesn't actively share his own in full-fledged reciprocation. The exception seems to be halmeoni Gamri, at least to some extent, but even then he tends to frame any explanation of him going above and beyond for her as a way of paying back for how much she cared for him growing up. Dusik lives in his own manufactured limbo where he has made his existence entirely fixed as an untethered entity.

Dusik has turned his pain into a lifestyle where he knows he must keep his heart guarded from other people by becoming too attached, keep himself from sullying his hometown and the people he's dedicated himself to with the infection that is him asking for reciprocity. His infectious disease is spread through baring himself and his full-fledged feelings to other people, and thus he quarantines that part of himself from anyone. Denial of love is his love. So he flits from job to job, works for minimum wage, and tries to pretend that he does not attach himself to anything or anyone but himself. It's easier for everyone this way. That way he cannot drag anyone down into the surf that is his destruction.

He has decided that it's better for him to be a solitary observer, taking up space in a manmade shipwreck away from others, both literally and figuratively, as is shown by how he made the choice to keep his grandpa's boat out of the water, perching it on a hill so high and isolated that he could barely get it up there in the first place. Even if it is incredibly difficult to do, he is determined to meet his goal of self-exile. It's the only way he knows how to protect himself and everyone else, through self-imposed isolation.

But like the poem Dusik read to Hyejin, once she entered his life, she would not stop showing up for him. She didn't willingly ascribe to the rules he set forth for other people. He told her to cross lines freely, as if she had already been doing so. She may have verbally pontificated about not crossing lines, but her actions said otherwise, and she was crossing Dusik's boundaries before he even knew it. She didn't fit perfectly into Gongjin or Dusik's life, and her stretching the limits of what is 'acceptable' is what he needed to open himself up to a new perspective other than steadfast solitude. It was through her own actions, stepping into his circle of solitude and making her presence known, that he began to question if isolation was really what he wanted and preferred.

From the very beginning, Hyejin asked Dusik to stay with her, literally tugging on his shirt to keep him from leaving on the beach the first day they met. And she hasn't stopped holding onto him. First it was out of helplessness, then when she held onto him and asked him to stay before her first town hall meeting, it was her asking for his support, then when she ran into his arms when she was scared, it was her showing her deep trust for him, and now most recently, in her half-asleep state on the couch, it was her desire to emotionally connect with him in a way more profound than he does with others. Her presence is her way of asking him to open the door to his heart.

And like the poem said, and what Dusik realized as he was reading it, his staunch gatekeeping betrayed him and he fell in love because of his own stubbornness in refusing to leave his post. He found someone who reliably showed up to his post as dependably as he does. Or rather, she showed up and found him in Gongiin. He was always there to keep his metaphorical door closed, and she was always there to check if it was still closed. Dusik was so sure that gatekeeping would keep him safe, so sure that his constant monitoring and vigilance would keep him protected, that he failed to realize what would happen when he began to rely on his denial. His continued refusal became something reliable in itself, though not because of him, but because of her showing up. After all, what is there to refuse if there is not someone knocking at the door every day? His vigilance betrayed him because he forgot that actively guarding his heart was also keeping his heart active.

Dusik tried to deny Hyejin entrance inside his heart, but then her existence in Gongjin took up space all around him. She became like the sea itself, constant and deep and reflective. And just like Gongjin would feel incomplete without the presence of the sea's waves lapping on its shore, so too is Dusik starting to feel incomplete without Hyejin's assured presence. So much that when she's gone, as he said at his grandpa's memorial ceremony after she left, he misses her so-called noisiness and disruption of his habitual silence. He misses her. Without him realizing it, the silence he used to crave has started to feel like an empty void, and it's no longer silence he seeks. Instead, it's the steady sound of her waves crashing against his shoreline that has started to bring him comfort. Her tides coming and going, leaving bits of herself behind with him and changing his coastline with her presence is more dynamic and interesting than the unvarying landscape of the dry hilltop perch he made for himself.

Dusik's gatekeeping has evolved in that its purpose is no longer about resolute solitude and staying away from others, but about taking up patrol in order to be near her. Subconsciously Dusik found himself willing to abandon his sentry, not even noticing that he was walking away from his guard post and leaving himself wide open to her. This is so interesting coupled with the line Hyejin said a few episodes earlier, "He's always around when you least expect it." Both in that she too unexpectedly became a part of his life like she claimed he did with hers, and also how in some ways the reason he is always present is because he actively finds ways to show up around her and enact his gatekeeping. Just like the lines from the poem, Dusik became the doorkeeper whose "job is to wait for you the next day to deny you. / My job is to wait for you the next day and fall in love with you."

And then Hyejin confessed, and Dusik made the conscious choice to abandon his barricaded doorway to go be with her and kiss her. Because his barricade wasn't worth keeping up if she was baring herself to him so openly and and unguardedly. Isolation and vigilance lost their meaning in the face of the buoyancy he feels when he is with her. Hyejin tried to say that he could leave his door closed. She put her hand up to his mouth, and with that she meant she didn't expect anything in return, that he could leave his door closed, and she would still be there, her feelings unwavering. But her bravery made him brave as well. And he made the active choice to pull back his own door, lower her hand, and kiss her. Now, his doorkeeping is meaningless without her. And after all these years, his carefully cultivated isolation is worthless if it means isolation from embracing Hyejin's presence as well.

The poem said, "denying my love is my job," but Dusik finally realized he was ready to accept more than just denial in this life with Hyejin. He was finally ready to make the active choice to accept someone in his heart again. Hyejin's presence made Dusik acutely aware of the weight of his isolation and he knew it was again time for him to firmly reject something. But this time instead of rejecting another person, instead of rejecting the feelings of reciprocal love, he rejected his own self-isolation. His rejection was in favor of love rather than against it. Hyejin knocked, completely content with the closed door of Dusik's existence, but this time he flung his door open and made the move to kiss her and return her feelings back. His purpose is no longer to deny his love, it's to accept love and give love back to her.

-----

And just in case you wanted to read the poem in full, I've pasted it below:

"Doorkeeper" by Kim Haengsook

It's my job to say, "You shouldn't do this here."

It's my job to deny your purpose.

It's my job to deny you the next day.

It's my job to wait for you the next day to deny you.

My job is to wait for you the next day and fall in love with you.

Thus, denying my love is my job.

I will not cry because of my vocation, he wrote. I cried sometimes when I wrote a diary.

#hometown cha cha cha #kdrama #meta #my meta #homcha meta #also the full poem is under the cut at the very end of this post #once again i am incredibly late with my meta bc i am bad at dedicating time to revising and reformatting for tumblr #this sat in my drafts for DAYS #this meta is long and full of metaphors and the tenses are kind of all over the place but i'm proud of it #me writing better essays on tumblr than i ever did in school lol #fyi the part above the cut is sad but it gets a lot more hopeful at the end once hyejin is introduced

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buckyswinterbaby · 3 years

Text

Rule Number Four — Oneshot **

Pairing: softdom!Bucky Barnes x reader

Synopsis: Bucky returns home early from a mission to find the reader in a compromising position. Rules are broken and new ones are made.

Warnings: language, smut (18+), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, folks), fluffy ending, softdom!Bucky, daddy kink (not ddlg), reader is submissive, nipple play, orgasm denial, metal arm kink, fingering (f receiving), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, degradation and a size kink (if you squint), aftercare, established relationship, masturbation.

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Word Count: 2,291

Note: Here’s my first attempt at actually posting an “x reader” or smut fic so please be gentle with her. This was based on a post I saw a bit ago about submissives masturbating while wearing their dom’s hoodie, so I thought I’d give it a go. I hope you guys enjoy!

You had become his wife nearly three months ago and this was the longest stretch you had been apart since.

Even before marriage, the two of you were practically inseparable. You were often found curled on his inviting lap with two arms circled around you, one flesh and one metal, holding you tightly to his chest. To say you had missed the comfort of his warm embrace would be the understatement of the year. It was more like you had been lost without it.

His arms were far from the only thing you missed about your soldier. Before his departure, Bucky had listed off a few rules to follow in his absence. Possibly enjoying your long standing dominant and submissive dynamic a bit more than he was willing let on in that moment.

Rule one: No touching yourself without permission. Cruel but simple enough.

Rule two: No orgasms. Bucky knew you too well to believe you wouldn’t find a loophole that didn’t involve dipping those delicate fingers between your folds.

Rule three, possibly the worst of the set, which was likely his intention: Nipple play, at least once a day. He wanted your delicious buds oversensitive and aching by the time he found his way home to you. While your cunt was left thoroughly neglected and needing his touch.

It was that one rule, one single command that had you breaking all the rest. You had held out for nearly his entire time away, only crumbling when you went to fulfill the rule one last time, the anticipation of his return clouding your senses.

You had intended to do as he said. You laid yourself out on the large bed that had felt overwhelmingly cold and lonely without him, clothed in nothing but his oversized sweatshirt that adorned the S.H.I.E.L.D logo on the front. Perhaps that was your first mistake, opting to forgo the panties you had been wearing the entire day. Leaving your dripping core exposed to the night air with your husband still, as you believed, across the world and unable to claim it.

Your delicate fingers traced the familiar path up the length of your torso, trailing along the valley between your soft breasts that Bucky so often spent his time worshiping. The hem of the sweatshirt rode up more and more as your hand made its way up. A flame flickered in the pit of your belly as you found your hardening nipples, the cool metal of your wedding ring ghosting over. For just a moment, you allowed yourself to imagine it was Bucky’s hand in place of your’s. The cold and unyielding vibranium working your body into fits of pleasure.

It was that thought that had your other hand trailing down instead of up, finding its way to the apex of your thighs. One finger wouldn’t hurt, you surmised. Though that one quickly led to two with a thumb working furiously on your throbbing clit.

Bucky heard your soft moans before he even approached the door, a wide grin spreading across his face. He was home hours earlier than anticipated, a fact he was suddenly so very grateful for. After another moment of listening, he heard the gentle string of gasps you would always release in pleasure, an undeniable sign that your orgasm was quickly approaching.

His interest was thoroughly peaked as he quietly slipped his way into the barely lit bedroom, drinking in the sight of you spread out before him like a man dying of dehydration.

“Y/n,” he called out, alerting you to his presence. Bucky licked his lips as he zeroed in on your now stilled hand, fingers slick and deep within you.

You knew better than to remove them, he’d tell you if that was what he wanted. Your breasts heaved as you breathed out, waiting for him to say something or act, you’d take anything over the silence that now hung in the air between you.

In two steps, Bucky crossed the distance and now stood at the foot of the bed. “I gave you three rules, doll, just three. Thought I’d be nice and make em’ simple for you. Seems you can’t even do that right, can you?”

“I’m sorry, daddy,” you called out, your voice sounding more like a pathetic whimper than actual words. You tried to go on and explain how you had tried to be good but Bucky quickly cut you off. You honestly couldn’t remember even making the decision to ignore the rule.

“Don’t bother trying to apologize now.” His metal hand trailed up your thigh as he took a seat on the edge of the bed. Slowly making his way up until he swatted your hand away, not failing to notice how visibly damp the sleeve of the hoodie now was. “You’ve made your bed, baby girl. I think it’s about time you had to lay in it.”

Your walls clenched down, now feeling empty without anything inside. That feeling didn’t last long as Bucky dipped a metal finger between your lips, gathering the arousal you had so eagerly coaxed out only minutes before. He didn’t waste another moment before pushing in two thick fingers, quickly setting a punishing pace as they curled around to rub your g-spot with each pump.

Your back arched off the bed as he drove you to the brink of release in what seemed like a matter of seconds, skilled hands doing what took you at least a few minutes. It was easy to get lost in these moments with the man you loved and trusted without question. Never hesitating to give over control to your husband as you let yourself fall further into the pleasure he was providing. And boy were you truly lost, at least until the pleasure stopped as his fingers stilled inside you, continuing to ever so gently rub that special spot he could find all too easily.

You looked over at him in surprise as your building orgasm quickly dissipated. “Bucky?”

“Patience. You’ve got a few questions to answer first.” He couldn’t help but chuckle at your huff of annoyance. “Was this the first time you broke rule number one while I was gone? You better be honest with me.”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to form an understandable sentence as his thumb rubbed slow, lazy circles against your clit. Your hips bucked involuntarily against his ministrations, he didn't seem angry, though.

“Did you break number two?” he questioned, his free hand roaming up to tease your sensitive nipples, purposefully giving the right one more attention than the other just to drive you nuts.

It took a few more seconds for you to compose yourself enough to speak. “I didn’t,” you moaned out, throwing your head back after a particularly hard pinch to the right nipple.

“Not for a lack of trying, it seems.”

A dark blush crept onto your already flushed cheeks. “I wanted to, daddy. I needed to. I followed rule three the entire time and I just couldn’t take it anymore.” You knew Bucky’s dominant side loved a lusty confession. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t trying to butter him up into finally allowing your release. If you only knew how much you’d end up regretting that wish.

“I left you alone too long, didn’t I? Your greedy little pussy isn’t used to not getting what she wants. And I think I know just the punishment to remind you that when you cum, how much you cum isn’t your decision.” You nearly came around his fingers then and there, which likely wouldn’t do much to fix your predicament besides providing momentary relief. “So you’ll get your orgasm, baby. Then you’ll take every other one I can give you and you’ll say thank you for being so generous. Scream it, even. Loud enough that Steve feels like he needs to go to confession.”

Your breath got caught in your throat at his words, goosebumps rising up behind the path of his flesh hand as it found its way to rest on your lower stomach. “How many?” You recognized that you should likely be afraid of his answer, but honestly nothing could prepare you for the reality.

Bucky seemed to debate the question for a moment before meeting your gaze, giving you the playful smirk you had fallen in love with some five odd years ago. “I dunno,” he admitted. “I haven’t decided yet. You’ll know when I’m done with you.”

His thrusts had been relentless for what seemed like hours, maybe it actually had been that long, you honestly couldn’t keep track. Orgasms blurred together as he used his super soldier endurance and sex drive to deliver the punishment he promised and then some.

Your arms were wrapped tightly around his neck, holding him closer to your sweat covered body as he continued to rut up against your abused sex, riding you through your most recent release.

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes from how sensitive you had become, the multiple orgams and brutal pace allowing you no mercy. His thumb swept away a fallen tear before it could run down your cheek, his swollen lips capturing your’s in a far more passionate and intimate kiss than the others you had received throughout the night. Everything seemed to soften after that, besides his cock, of course. His thrusts slowed to a steady but more gentle rhythm as he recognized you were nearing your limit, but also not quite there yet.

Bucky spared a glance at where you bodies were connected, momentarily becoming captivated by the sight. His eyes returned to your’s, pupils still dark and blown, yet they seemed to be more passionate than ravenous now.

“One more, baby, can you do that for me? Give me one more and you can rest.”

You nodded while letting out a string of deep moans, desperately bucking your hips up to meet his thrusts in chase of your final orgasm. It didn’t take long for you to feel the familiar pressure building in your belly, raising you higher and higher in bliss. Words were far beyond you now, only a breathy string of his name escaping your parted lips as you buried your head in the space where his neck connected to his shoulder.

His thrusts grew sloppy as he attempted to hold out until you came crashing around him. His left arm was resting beside your head, holding his large frame up above your’s as not to crush your smaller body beneath him. Metal fingers found their way into the locks of your hair spread out on the pillows. Gentle tugs forced your head up, your eyes meeting his piercing blue ones.

“I want to watch you when you cum.”

Your eyes never left his as he brought you to the rising crescendo that would bring the night to its end. The unyielding intensity and intimacy of the moment had you feeling small but so very safe underneath him. Bucky was home and he was in control, you didn’t have to worry about a thing. You came undone around his cock once again, your tight walls pulling him across the finish line with you. A few more lazy thrusts followed as he painted your pulsing heat, gently pulling out once he was spent.

Bucky moved to lay down beside you, taking a moment to catch his breath before moving to check on you.

His nose brushed against the rim of your ear as he leaned over to place a kiss on your flushed cheek. He whispered soothing words against your skin as you came down, knowing you needed the reassurances and affection after a rough session. “You did so good, took everything just like I told you to. You’re too good to me.” Calloused hands that had spent so many years committing unspeakable acts now gently smoothed down your wild hair. “How about we get you cleaned up, okay?”

He waited for you to nod before moving you into his arms, carrying your spent body to the bathroom so you could take care of your needs while he ran a bath.

Once he knew the water was just how you like it, he moved into the tub, helping you position yourself between his legs with your back against his toned chest. Your head rested back against his shoulder as he moved the soapy loofah across your arms. It took a few more minutes, but slowly Bucky noticed that you were coming out of the headspace you always seemed to slip into when you truly relinquished control to him.

“Was I too rough?” His question broke the comfortable silence you both had fallen into since entering the attached bathroom.

A soft smile graced your lips in response, your heart swelling at his concern just as much as it had on your very first night together. You raised a hand up to rest on his cheek, pulling him down into a gentle and loving kiss. “You were perfect. If that’s what happens every time I misbehave while you’re away, I might just make a habit out of it.”

A chuckle rumbled from deep in Bucky’s chest as he shook his head in amusement. “Doll, you say that like you aren’t already the biggest pain in my ass since the day I met Steve.”

You didn’t hesitate to send a playful jab between his ribs in protest. “I’ll have you know, Mr. Barnes, I am a delight. The light of your damn life, even.”

An adoring smile made its way onto his features as he captured your lips in a brief kiss again. “Now that...that’s something we can agree on. Rule number four is that you never forget it.”

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky fluff #bucky fanfic #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #marvel smut #bucky barnes smut #winter soldier #x reader #reader insert

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gondowan · 3 years

Text

Communal Property

Pairings: Din Djarin x f!Reader, allusions to Paz Viszla x f!Reader, Boba Fett x f!Reader, other Mandalorians x f!Reader, big gangbang vibes here lads.

“I hear you Mandos like to share your women anyway.”

Tags/Warnings: NC-17. Explicit sexual content. Established relationship. Verbal humiliation. Dom/sub. Choking. Lots of finnnngerrring (vaginal/anal). Canon-typical violence (Din stabs a rando). Soup, but make it sexy. Daddy kink (ehe). Suggestions of a threesome, gangbang, public use, bondage, breeding, double penetration (if I missed anything please let me know), its fluffy at the end :D

Word Count: 4,709

Notes: <:3c please don’t read if you’re not comfortable with anything listed above lol. Seriously though.

---

It was getting late, and the only clientele left at the dingy cantina were either drunk and rowdy or on their way to out. Which was fine, it was rare for the two of you to have some time together and you relished every second you could get. Din had just bagged a large bounty for Karga, enough that he could be persuaded to take a short break. It had been far too long since the two of you could spend some time together without a bounty puck hanging over your head or fears of Imperials looking for the Child.

Besides, Sorgan was as quiet as it got, and with all the planet-hopping and close calls in the last few cycles, the two of you really hadn’t had any time to yourselves and you were getting a little...tense from the lack of release.

It wasn’t that Din ignored your needs, but rather you were both so caught up with everything that there was barely any time to sleep, let alone indulge in a long scene. There just weren’t enough hours in the day to both take care of the Crest, the Child, and yourselves while on the run. You could tell he too was tense from the lack of physical connection; from the moment you stepped planetside, he was constantly touching you, either guiding you with a hand on the small of your back or

Din was in a mood.

“What will it be?” the barkeep had asked when you both walked in.

Before you could open your mouth, Din replied “Some stew and cider for her please, nothing for me,” he said in a clipped tone, not bothering to look at you or even ask what you might want.

As the barkeep walked away, he turned his helmeted gaze towards you. “Any objections sweet girl?”

You felt your face get hot. “No,” you murmured.

He cocked his head to the side, waiting. He was in that kind of mood tonight. Out of the corner of your eye you could see the barkeep coming back to your table.

“No...daddy,” you mumbled, dropping your gaze away from him right as the barkeep put down your drinks.

“Let me know if you all need anything else!” she said cheerfully as she set your plate of food and drink in front of you, oblivious to what had just occurred.

“That’ll be all, thank you.” Din said, not even bothering to look at the barkeep. She must’ve thought you were mute or the two of you had an argument or something, the air between the two of you felt so charged. You hadn’t spoken a word since you two stepped in, and this armor-clad Mandalorian was basically bossing you around.

She walked away, and you reached for the soup.

“No.”

You blinked at him in confusion.

“I’m going to feed it to you,”.

If you weren’t embarrassed before, you were now. Although the two of you had conversations about taking your dynamic outside the bedroom, Din hadn’t tried anything outside the ship just yet. The two of you were constantly surrounded by others anyway (Cara, Mayfeld, Boba, etc), so there wasn’t much of a chance to be naughty in public.

Except now, you suppose. You should’ve known.

“Mando, we’re in public,” you hissed, looking around the cantina. It was crowded and loud, and you were in a corner booth, but there was still a nonzero chance that someone might glance over.

His vocoder crackled, “Just the first spoonful,” he said, dipping the spoon into the soup and raising it towards you. You knew better than to say no, not if you valued the ability to sit down comfortably tomorrow. If you were really uncomfortable, all you had to do was blurt out your safeword, and you knew he would stop.

You licked your lips, “Just the one.” You prop your forearms on the table and lean towards him, parting your lips, fervently hoping that no one would look towards your table. Din carefully tips the soup into your mouth, watching intently as you swallow.

“Good?”

You lick your lips, despite the (admittedly delicious) soup, your mouth feels dry, “Y-yeah,”.

“Finish it and we can leave,” to do what it is we really want to do, is the unspoken statement hanging in the air. He pushes the bowl towards you; you hastily grab the spoon, not even tasting it anymore. Din watches you eat, unmoving save for an impatient drum of his fingers on the table.

You relax a little, and ramble at Din about this-that-and-the-other to fill in the silence as you move onto polishing off your cider. Din says little in return but traces circles at your thigh, gloved fingers leaving a burning trial in its wake. Right as you are about to finish, a drunken man saunters over. You can smell the stench of alcohol rolling off of him. So much for a quiet night.

“What’s a pretty lady like you doing with a tin can like that?” the drunkard giggles, pointing at Din. “Come with me instead, I can show you a great time, and you can see my face!”.

You sigh, so much for a quiet night, “I’m not interested, thank you,” you say with a clipped smile, turning away, hoping to the maker that he’d leave.

Unfortunately this idiot can’t read the room, “Awww, don’t be like that, I can-”.

“She’s not interested.” Din said, voice flat, gaze still directed at you, not even bothering to give the drunkard the luxury of his full attention.

The man scowls, throwing up his hands. “Whatever, she’s probably all used up. I hear you Mandos like to share your women anyway.”

The air got deathly still. Before you can turn to stop him, Din’s vibroblade is sticking out of this man’s shoulder. He screams, sobering up instantly, as Din twists the blade.

In a flash, the barkeep shows up, blaster in hand, “OUT! All three of you!”, she yells, “Sa’al, I told you if you were going to get in trouble for this shit one day. Don’t let me catch any of you back here again.”

You throw down a fat wad of credits at the table, face apologetic as Din pulls his knife out of Sa’al’s shoulder, returning it to his boot. Sa’al collapses and scurries away in pain, clutching his shoulder. Din calmly stands up, takes your hand in his and leads you towards the exit. You mouth apologies at the barkeep before stepping out into the cool night air. Sorry, my partner is...touchy tonight have a good night so sorry I’m so sorry.

You shiver, not looking forward to the long walk back to the Crest. Surprisingly, Din turns you in the opposite direction, marching you towards the inn.

“Don’t want to wait,” he says. “Besides, it’s getting cold, and I know you don’t like that,” he drapes his cloak over your shoulders, and despite the reaction he had at the bar, your heart feels warm, and you lean into him.

---

The inn is quiet, and you were lucky to get a larger room at the end of the hall. A bath would be nice, the refresher aboard the Crest did its job, but five minute showers really didn’t leave any time for luxuriating. Maybe you could MacGyver some bubbles and really indulge with Din.

Din however, has other ideas. He all but shoves you into the room, closing the door behind him and quickly doing his usual checks for cameras and recording bugs. Old habits die hard. Once he’s satisfied, he sits at the edge of the bed. He pats at his lap, gesturing for you to sit. This had become a bit of a ritual for the two of you, he would often decompress by holding you as you sat there, either in the cockpit or the sleeping quarters. You amble over, planting a kiss on his helmet, and sit down.

Din doesn’t say anything at first, just lays his head on your shoulder. You reach in between his armor to rub at the tense muscles on his back, and for a few moments, it’s just the two of you and the sound of his breathing out of the vocoder.

“You didn’t have to go so hard on the poor man you know,” you murmur as you massage the back of his neck. Din doesn’t move, just continues to hold you on his lap, head on your shoulder as he scoffs.

“I’m getting soft. Before I met you, old me would’ve killed him,” the voice underneath the helmet is deadly. He releases his hold on your waist and takes off his helmet, immediately peppering kisses along your mouth. You knew he wasn’t lying, he had done worse--for less. “No one talks to my girl like that,”.

“It’s fine, you dealt with him. My honor remains intact, I swear.” you giggle as his lips reach a particularly sensitive spot behind your ear. Except the idea was enticing. Maybe you could bring it up another time, when Din wasn’t fresh out of nearly killing someone for saying that. The idea of being sandwiched between two Mandalorians was...tempting. You squeeze your thighs together, willing the thought away as you card your fingers through his hair. For someone who routinely kept it covered, it was so, so soft, and one of your favorite parts about him. Din still kept his helmet on more often than not, so you relished every chance you could get.

His mouth wanders to your collarbones, hand reaching into your shirt, fingers smoothing over your nipple.

“Although Din--ah,” your breath hitched as he rolled your nipple between his fingers, “What was that with the soup?”

“You didn’t like it?” his voice is muffled as he sucks a bruise onto your shoulder.

You loved it actually.

“Need to make sure babygirl has enough energy for Daddy,”. He continues to play with your nipple as you fuss around his lap.“Although...you averted your eyes earlier sweet girl,”.

You whimper, body tensing. Shit. That had one been one of the rules he had laid out for you at the very beginning. Eye contact whenever you were playing. Din loved it because it made you embarrassed to have to admit to your desires to his face and it put you in an almost automatic submissive mindset.

“Are you ashamed of being my baby girl?” he murmured, catching your chin with his hand, tilting your face to meet his. You knew it was a trick question, you could never be ashamed of the relationship the two of you shared. It had grown from just business to more, and despite the near-constant danger, you never wanted to be away from him, and you knew Din felt the same.

“Of course not,” you sigh. You could never be anything but happy to be his.

“Then why did you look away from me?” he asked, keeping your chin in a gentle grip, looking at you fondly, a smile of wicked pleasure gracing his handsome features. His voice was calm, and he maintained an innocent demeanor even as his other hand drifted away from your breast onto your thigh, squeezing gently.

“I was just caught off-guard, we were in public,”. You braced yourself for what you knew was coming-- punishment.

The other hand that had been trailing along your thigh paused, prompting you to freeze. “Well, it looks like you need to be taught a lesson. Always be ready for me, kitten.”

“I think five is good,” he releases your face, hands roaming to your bottom, groping as you let out a shuddering breath, “Remember to count them”.

You burrow your face into his shoulder, holding on tight. Din keeps his gloves on, knowing that you have a special fondness for being spanked while he was wearing them. The leather just adds that extra touch.

The first hit takes you by surprise, and you buck into him, feeling the sting of his hand.

“O-one.”

The second and third hit right next to the first, causing you to moan into his neck.

Din rubbed the growing warm spot on your asscheek, “You should be in a museum kitten, your body is a masterpiece,” he growled, “Almost makes me feel sorry to hurt you.”. He lifts his hand away and you close your eyes, bracing yourself.

“But not quite,”. The next hit has you whimpering.

“Four.” you manage between clenched teeth.

He murmurs, “Last one okay? You’re doing so well.” You steel yourself, knowing that this one will be the most painful. You loved it when he was cold and domineering, playing with your body, inflicting both pain and pleasure at his desire, extracting whatever he needed out of you.

Din’s hand comes down, hard. You cry out, shifting forward with the force, but are caught by his chestplate.

“Five!” you call out, relieved. “T-Thank you Daddy,”.

Din kisses your cheek, phrases of adoration and love filling your ear. He moves you off his thigh, pushing you onto the bed in one swift motion. You land with a soft ‘oof’, getting up on the back of your forearms to look at him.

Din hurriedly takes off the rest of his armor and looms over you on the bed, arousal rolling off his body in waves. His palm reaches down between your legs. “Babygirl...you’ve already made a mess.” Din pulls at the crotch of your panties, feeling the wetness that has seeped through. He yanks them off, making a big show out of sniffing them, all the while maintaining eye contact with you as you squirm under him.

“Is this all for me sweet girl?”. You nod feverishly and Din groans, as he inhales deeply again, your ruined panties pressed right against his nose, “It’s too good--I should just keep your pussy under lock and key.”

“Did the spanking get you all riled up?” he asks, the curve of his cock visible even through his pants, making your mouth water.

“Or…” his voice drops precipitously, “Were you thinking about being passed around?”

Damn, of course he’d know. Your eyes widen and you swallow, stomach twisting.

Din grins as he continues to let his hands caress your hip, “Was that it? Is that what you want? Passed around and used up by a bunch of Mandalorians?”

You whine, biting your lip, refusing to give him the pleasure of confirmation.

A sharp slap across your nipple brings you back to reality. “Answer me.”

You nod, lips parting, unable to answer as Din pushes a finger into your mouth and across your tongue. You lap at his finger, pleased at the subtle shiver that goes through him. He adds a second finger, reaching deep into your mouth, making you gag as you garble out an affirmation.

Din grins ferally. “You know I could call up Paz and Boba, let them take turns on you”. You shudder, the thought of sucking Boba’s cock while Paz worked your pussy was hot. You hadn’t done more than exchange a few conversations with the two of them, but you knew that Din would trust them with his life, they were his vod. Paz was the biggest one and you knew he wouldn’t take it easy on you. Boba, however, would be brutal, possibly even more so than Din.

“Although I don’t know babygirl, I’m not sure I can share your pussy-- maybe I’ll keep my cock in your pussy and the others can take turns on your ass and mouth, keep you airtight and so full. Would you like that baby? Be stuffed full of cock?” Din hums as he pulls his fingers out of your mouth. The image he’s painting in your mind is disgusting and oh so good, you imagine yourself straddling Din as his cock fills your pussy, holding on for dear life while Paz eases himself into your other tight hole and you choke around Boba’s length, utterly debauched.

Din pets your cheek, soft gesture contrasting sharply with the utter filth coming out of his mouth. His hand finally reaches down towards the apex of your thighs, knuckle grazing up and down your folds. “We better train your asshole then, don’t want Paz or Boba to hurt you,” your heart flutters, filthy images of you on your knees plugged up making your blood pound.

“That’s Daddy’s job after all.” he says absentmindedly, eyes laser focused on your pussy as he briefly dips his finger even lower, just barely skimming across your other hole.

“Look at you,” he says, admiring the way you shudder as he inserts his fingers into your pussy, you’re so turned on you can hear the squelch as he pushes in. “Knew you were a greedy slut since the first day I set eyes on you.”

You keen under his touch, mind flying high, pussy throbbing as you move your hips into his hand. “I’m your greedy slut Daddy,”

“Yeah you are, sweet girl.” Din says fondly. You wonder how it is that you’re already this close even though he’s barely started to finger you.

“Can I kiss you? Please?” you whimper, reaching for him. Din hums and puts a knee on the bed, leaning over, chest pressed against yours, pressing a kiss to the underside of your jaw. You pull him closer, needy for more of him as you wordlessly beg for more. He nips at your bottom lip and you open your mouth to let him in, never minding the mess of saliva.

“Never thought you were that much of a whore,” he hisses against your neck, teething grazing along the line of your skin as you tilt your head back to allow him better access. His fingers continue to work their magic on your slick folds, and you’re pretty sure you’ve made a mess on the bed already, and dear maker, he hadn’t even made you cum yet.

“Alternatively…”. Din stands up, mouth leaving yours and withdrawing his fingers as well. You whine at the loss of sensation. He nips at your breast before reaching down to pull his pants down. You swallow, chest heaving as you part your legs further for him. Din rubs the head of his cock on your clit,

“Spread yourself,” he orders with a sharp smack to your inner thigh. You scramble, reaching down to give him better access. Din lets out a moan at the sight of your dripping pussy and your debauched dreamy expression, fresh bruises adorning your neck and chest, all his doing. He loved the way you folded under his touch as if you were made for him, always so sweet and anticipatory of his needs. A beautiful complement to his twisted desires. The thought of it made his heart swell. He was never going to let you go.

Din makes an appreciative noise as you follow his command, lining himself up with your wet hole. You’re breathing so hard in anticipation that you feel light-headed, “Or...I could take you back to the Covert, let everyone else have a turn at you,”

Before you can fully register what he said, he pushes deep into you with one fluid motion of his hips. You squeeze down on him, grateful for the pressure and the way he fills you up every time like he was made for you.

“We could get your implant taken out, make you take all of our loads in your pussy. All of our cum mixing together.” You moan, head dropping back, shuddering as he continues to thrust, bottoming out, not giving you any time to breathe let alone think.

“Would you like that babygirl? Naked in the middle of the Covert for all to see?” you scramble to hold on to his arm, legs circling around his back. You squeeze around his length, getting close, but you don’t dare to cum without his permission.

“D-daddy…” is about all you can muster out, eyes looking at his face but unseeing as he continues. You pull at the arm he’s been using to brace himself against the bed, gesturing at him to put his hand around your neck. He obliges with a small laugh, the span of his palm encompassing your neck, lightly resting his hand there and not squeezing, yet.

“Close baby?”

You tremble, “Y-yes Daddy fuck, please may I--”

His hand returns to your clit and he presses down, taunting you, “You’re close already? If you cum, you acknowledge that you’re a filthy slut who needs Daddy to keep them in check. Is that what you are? A whore for Daddy?”. The hand on your throat squeezes just right and you can’t hold on any longer.

“Always Daddy f-fuck.” you cry out as you curse, feeling your release overtake you as Din fucks you through your orgasm.

“What do you say,” he snarls, ignoring your attempts to scramble away from the overstimulation of his cock and fingers.

You blink and take a deep breath, “Thank you for letting me cum Daddy.” You’re past the point of embarrassment at this point, he has you wrapped around his finger, all mental filters long gone.

You can see Din’s jaw clench before he pulls out quickly and you whimper at the loss of sensation. He flips you over and pulls your hips up. He huffs out as he pushes himself back in, chasing his own pleasure this time, nailing you to the bed and all you can do is continue to take it. Your mind swims as you let out a sob; you’re so deep in a trance that you barely register his finger at the edge of your asshole again. He pushes in slowly, first knuckle breaching the tight ring of muscles as you tense up around his thick finger.

“I knew you would love being the Covert slut; you always need so much to be satisfied,” he sneers, voice dropping even lower as he continues to mock you as his thick cock continues to work your hole and his finger fully breaches your asshole. “Maybe we won’t stop until we’re sure you get pregnant huh? You won’t ever know who the father will be since you won’t ever see their faces.”

You’re nonverbal at this point, your litany of ‘yes Daddy’ and ‘more please’ muffled by the pillow.

“I guess we’ll just have to hope it looks like me huh?”. You groan, too overcome to do anything but moan.

“Gonna give us warriors babygirl?”. Din snaps his hips particularly hard, you’ll be feeling the smack of his thighs against yours in the morning.

You can feel yourself getting closer, the combination of the obscene image he had planted in your mind coupled with the press of his cock at your back and the fullness of his finger in your asshole was getting to be too much. You grip the sheets in a vice grip, mind falling into the web Din painted, of you on your knees, collar tied to a post, all your holes dripping with cum while the other Mandalorians all take a turn at you. So filthy, and you love it. You know nothing would please Din more than your complete and utter submission, and if that involves the entire covert or Paz and Boba, so be it.

Din’s hand comes back up to your throat, and squeezes, playing with your breath right as his other hand inserts a second finger inside your asshole. You clutch at the hand wrapped around your neck, feeling your head swim, closing your eyes as you bounce up and down on his cock.

He growls, biting into the shell of your ear, “Aww baby are you drooling?” he smears your spit across your cheek with his thumb. “Look at you, you’ve only cum once, and all of this is already making you cockdumb. Might have to call Paz and Boba in after all.”

You could only mewl in affirmation, mind floating, body only anchored by the points of contact made by Din’s hand on your throat, his cock in your pussy, and his fingers in your ass. You feel so good being used like this.

“I love it when you’re like this babygirl, so helpless for Daddy,” Din growls in your ear. His eyes are hooded as he chases his own orgasm, the rhythm of his hips becoming more erratic.

“I-I--” your tears break free, running down your cheeks as you struggle to form coherent words.

Din is unaffected, unrelenting in his thrusts against your walls. “Tears aren’t your safeword babygirl. You can do better than that.”

You manage a moan, barely registering his words, cries reverberating around the room as he knocks the breath out of your lungs with each thrust. “Tell Daddy you love this.” he hisses.

“I-I fuck, oh, oh, iloveitdaddypleaseplease,” you struggle to find enough breath to answer him, mouth dry from all your panting, Din’s hand unrelenting across your throat.

“I know you do baby. Is it getting hard to breathe? It’s okay, Daddy’s got you,” his voice full of pride as he rails you, splitting you open, filling the room with nothing but the sound of his cock moving in and out, his hips slapping against your ass. “So good for Daddy fuck-- I’m gonna-- this pussy is too good--such a good girl for me.”

His words fill you with warmth, and you squeeze your pussy against him right as he pulls out. Din moans, his hand letting go of your throat, looking for more leverage as he gets closer to his own completion. “Make a mess all over me babygirl, it’s o-okay I got you,”. You wail and sob as he pushes you over the edge again. All you can hear is your garbled ‘thank you Daddy thank you’ as you thank him devotedly over and over again. All the tension drains out of you, leaving you boneless on the bed, only held up by the fingers still in your ass and his cock.

“S-shit. You made a mess all over me f-fuck, oh fuck.” Din groans as he finishes inside you, filling you with warm cum. He pulls his fingers out and collapses on top of you. Din places his head against yours, peppering kisses all over you as he pulls out, his cum oozing out of you. It’s quiet as you both catch your breath.

You open your eyes blearily, “Fuck.” is about all you can manage before giggling, the endorphins making you feel so good. You can feel Din smile as he lifts himself up, pushing you back on your back. He looks ethereal, hair sticking to his forehead, sweat dripping down his body as he gazes at you fondly. You reach up and caress his face and he leans into your touch.

“How do you feel?” he murmurs, warm brown eyes on yours, laying a kiss on the back of your hand; ever the gentleman when he wasn’t busy degrading you at your request.

You stretch languidly, a little sore, but no more than usual. “I feel great actually. And you?”

Din smiles softly as he caresses your face, “Never better,”. You love all these aspects of him, the bounty hunter, the Mandalorian, your lover. Nothing made you happier than getting to share these moments with him. The two of you lay there for what feels like eternity, happy, sated, no concerns, just kissing each other softly, coming down together. You feel your eyelids close.

His voice brings you back from the edge of sleep. “Sweet girl...we need to clean up,”.

You blink at him blearily, “Ah right...I made a mess,”.

“We made a mess,” he chuckles, pulling you up into his arms (how did he still have all that energy?) before depositing you in the tub and turning on the warm water. Right as the water covers your shoulders, he gets up.

“Where are you going? The water is niiiiice.” you say as you make a big show of sinking into the bath. “Although not as nice as your ass.”

He smirks, “I need to send a message to Paz and Boba. Got exciting news for them,” he says as he turns towards his discarded armor.

Your eyes widen. Wait what?

---

I regret nothing lmfao. This is 100% me procrastinating from the fact that I have six months to finish writing my dissertation nbd. The line “you should be in museums” and “pussy under lock and key” is from Megan thee Stallion’s Sex Talk and Dance respectively. As always, comments/reblogs/keysmashes are always appreciated and give me much serotonin :)

Might do a part two with actual Boba and Paz but there are only so many euphemisms for cock that I know of ahaha.

#din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #paz viszla x reader #boba fett x reader #mono writes

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poodlejoonas · 3 years

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Dad!BC AU - before and after

Because I’m feeling so soft tonight, I wanna share my thoughts on the guys before and after they become dads. Everyone knows that kids change people, but sometimes the change is nice and wholesome.

I blame Joel and his sentimental edgy ass for that post on Instagram earlier.

(Under the read-more for length)

As the first dad of the group, Joonas was terrified of what the change would bring for him and Kirsten. He knew he would make his mistakes and he dreaded the day they would come. He was afraid that he was too immature to be a father - he read the comments online about him as a punk, about his Danish girlfriend who could barely read the hate comments written about her, and about their baby and how so many people “wished the poor girl luck” in dealing with a childish father like him. On top of that, Kirsten’s parents were begging her to leave Finland and him so they could help raise Sohvi because they thought they could do a better job than him. He was motivated to become the best dad he could be to prove them all wrong, but also to give his daughter the best life she deserved. He admits to his mistakes in the early days of fatherhood - he knows he should have been kinder to Kirsten when she was struggling mentally as a new mom.

Years later, with their third child on the way, the first two are a little bit older and they adore the hell out of their dad. Sohvi loves music like him and unapologetically stands her ground on the things she believes in. Lukas is a cannonball of a personality who loves the ice and playing hockey as much as his cousin Enkka. And the youngest of the Porkos, Jakob (aka “Jaska”) grows up to enjoy the softer things in life - reading, baking, knitting, and cuddling on a lazy day. Even through his busy schedule, he makes time to make memories with each of them in a way that matters to them - jamming out with Sohvi, skating with Lukas, and reading bedtime stories to Jaska. They all take his punk attitude, the very thing that many people used to discount his abilities to raise one child, let alone three. His family is perfect, and he realizes now that he had nothing to fear when he held his daughter for the first time.

Joel had never given the thought of a family of his own much consideration. He was too busy being a rock star and conquering the world, and he was afraid of what the change after having a kid would look like for him. He wanted to be happy for Joonas when he told the group in Rotterdam that he was going to be a dad, but he was afraid of losing his best friend to an uncertain future. He grew to love his niece, after some time and a little bit of effort on his part, but he still thought they just weren’t for him.

When he went out on a blind date with Emilia Peltonen months later, he wasn’t expecting it to go anywhere from there. But she gave him a second chance, and a third, and so on, until they were finally living together. Milli finally asked him what he thought of the idea of having kids, and he thought he needed “some time” to think on it. It took him all of about 12 hours to make up his mind, but they waited almost a full year before they were finally successful. In that time, he asked her to marry him, regardless of whether a baby would even come along. Still, he had his doubts about his own abilities to give his son a happy life - he was impatient and snappy, his mental health would fall apart some days, he was never the most affectionate person. And yet, none of that matters to little Viktor; Joel is his idol and, in his mind, he’s the coolest guy on Earth and he wants to be just like him someday. He teaches Enkka to skate and fosters his love for hockey and music. When Enkka needs a hug, either when he’s sleepy or he just woke up from a bad dream, he knows his dad will be there to catch him. So many people love to see that he went from being a dark edgelord online with a pessimistic sense of humor, to being the best dad and husband of their group whose public presence is covered with the signs of his pride in his family. Joel’s transformation surprised so many people, but the change was a welcome sight.

(TW: mention of miscarriage)

Niko wanted to be a dad from the beginning. When he dated Jenna in high school, the hopeless romantic in him dreamed of their little family and the future they would build together. He was devastated when they went their separate ways, thanks to their very different paths in life. He gave up on his dream of their little ones, until they crossed paths again. He knew he would be a fool to give up his second chance. He was overjoyed to learn that Jenna was pregnant with their first child; unlike the first two dads, he had no fears in the back of his mind that he would be a good one. As soon as he stepped into his house, he turned off the rock star Niko the world sees, and became Leevi’s dad and Jenna’s husband with every ounce of his being.

They made a promise to each other: when Leevi says his first word, it’s time for baby number two. Blissfully unaware of his parents’ plan to give him a sibling, Leevi watched Rommi walk by and blurted out his first word: kissa! Within two months, they were expecting their daughter to round out their little family. Lahja Rose was born the next February, two weeks past her original due date. Her father was a little heartbroken - she was supposed to be born on his birthday, hence the name Lahja (“gift”). But he was happy to finally have his little Rose to pay tribute to his favorite film (even if people made their fair share of jokes about it). They hit their first real snag as a family when, between 6 and 11 months, Lahja lived with on/off inner ear infections. Her parents did everything they could to help relieve her pain, eventually opting for surgery to fix it. Niko was a wreck for the full five months, refusing to leave his family’s side and being more than willing to fight anyone who disrespected his decision to have privacy with his family. Niko helped Jenna through the painful process of losing what would have been their third child. They mourned, they healed, and they decided that they were at peace just having their two.

Olli wanted to be a dad, but he was terrified when he learned he had two on the way. Kaarina wanted to laugh at his adorkable response to the news - “count them again” - but she knew his fears were valid. She’d known this man since they were children, and his response to the news was typical of him as an anxious mess under his cool and seemingly collected personality. Her fears were the same; after all, she had no idea what changes were to come for her health. But both girls had a hold on his heart long before they were even born. Olli was willing to do anything to make Riina and the twins feel comfortable until their arrival a week before Christmas. The moment Elina was placed in his arms and he saw the way Elisabet fit in Riina’s, he wondered where those fears even belonged now.

Well... just a little more than three months later, when he was convinced he’d gotten his wife pregnant again, Olli was rightfully scared shitless. He loved his girls, but he couldn’t have three kids before the first two even celebrated their first birthday. Having narrowly dodged that nightmare, he took all the next steps to ensure that it never happened again. He was happy with his two, and so was Riina. The Matelas spend their summers at their beach home, the twins developing as much of a love for the ocean as him. They wear the best coordinated outfits - but not matching though, Olli and Riina want them to maintain their own personality outside of being twins. He’s more than happy to let them put a tiara on him and invite him to their “garden tea party” in their shared room. It was tough at first, but he soon became a master of carrying one in each arm while they felt tall and safe with him. But he can be a bit strict with them sometimes; he loves them, but he doesn’t want them to follow in his footsteps as a rock star. He knows it can be difficult and fun, but he doesn’t want his daughters to fall victim to the lifestyle. And yet, Elisabet was determined to forge her own path in music, while Elina took to the ice like Lukas and Enkka as a figure skater. There was no use in trying to stifle their dreams. Olli’s proud of his girls, and he’s always wanted them to be happy.

Tommi’s family came pre-started. He was introduced to Marja Oksanen, a single mom to a young son who escaped a dangerous relationship with the father of her child. She was afraid that learning about her son would drive him away, that he wouldn’t bother with a single mom if she couldn’t put their relationship first. But Tommi loved this woman already, and someday he was sure he would love her son. He had his reasons to be wary around the boy since he’d never had a father figure in his life (outside of his Uncle Niko for the year or so that Marja and Miikka lived with him and Jenna). He let Miikka accept him first, and he waited for his cue before he grew into his role as his step-dad.

He readily agreed when Marja asked him if he wanted a baby with her (or “another cub” to fit the bear theme they adopted for their family). Tommi would have been happy to have several cubs with her. But when her pregnancy with Anna left her on constant bed rest and their daughter was born a month earlier than she should have, he couldn’t put her through that stress again. Marja’s health mattered more than the thought of a large family. Besides, he was more than happy with “Baby Bear” (Miikka) and “Cub” (Anna), because despite the fact that Miikka was not his son by birth, he was his son by love. And he was willing to defend that from anyone who dares to insult their family dynamic. Tommi is a master of being a dad; his energy calms both kids down when they’re stressed or in need of some love and understanding. It’s not an uncommon sight to see him with one on either side of him as the three of them relax in his recliner. So many people know Tommi as a man with a tough exterior, who doesn’t let his emotions show, doesn’t talk much, and doesn’t garner much attention in a room. But Tommi with his children is a different person altogether. He shares a side of him that belongs to his family.

As the last to become a dad, Aleksi had a wealth of experience to rely on when he needed help with his son. He made the difficult decision to voluntarily become a single dad when his ex-girlfriend Laila expressed zero desire to become a mother. He endured so much stress and heartache in the process, from Laila dragging him in the media over his decision to announce the pregnancy to being banned from Noah’s birth altogether. He first laid eyes on Noah when he was just under an hour old, having only been held by the nurses who prepared him to meet his father. He spared no expense in spending two nights in the hospital with him in a suite, even when Laila had long checked out and left without saying goodbye to either of them.

He felt a twinge of shame when he accepted help from Joonas in taking care of his son. He wanted to do it by himself and prove that he could be a good dad alone. But having a village of friends behind him helped ease him into everything that fatherhood would throw at him. When Noah is diagnosed on the autism spectrum when he’s three, Aleksi immediately learns everything he can to understand his son better. He becomes his biggest defender when people try to push him out of his comfort zone, telling him that they can respect his decision to wear his noise-cancelling headphones when he needs them or they can leave both of them alone. He learns sign language to communicate with Noah whenever he goes mute and he shows solidarity when Noah stims in public. He stays out of the dating scene for years to stop a revolving door of strangers from coming around his son who is shy around new people and lives with separation anxiety from losing his mother at a young age. But Hanna Laaksonen was the perfect exception, as a child psychologist with a Master’s degree in early childhood development. The rest of his friends watched as Aleksi fell in love with her and as Noah began to call her Mom. Still, Aleksi always put Noah first, the same as he always had, and Hanna respected that fact.

#blind channel #dad!blind channel #dad!joonas #dad!joel #dad!niko #dad!olli #dad!tommi #dad!aleksi #yes i hacked this all out in one sitting #yes it's 11 pm and i should go to sleep

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sierraraeck · 3 years

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The Jailbird and the Mouse

Spencer x Fem!OC (Aundreya)

Masterlist

Summary: When Aundreya shows up to consult on a case, Spencer seems less than pleased to see her, but his actions tell a different story. Bonus chapter!

Category: Smut. Hate fuck. Apparently I’m incapable of writing a single thing without some angst, so we’ve got a sprinkle of that in there at the end, too.

Warnings: Cussing. Choking. Nicknames. Degradation. Cuffs are used. Unprotected penetration, female masturbating, oral (male receiving), fingering. Semi-public at the beginning.

Word Count: 8.5k

A/N: Okay so this is supposed to take place during How to Lose Friends when they are both in their fresh, post-prison forms and are beyond pissed at each other, but you don't have to have read that chapter or the series to understand this. Also, shoutout to @writing-in-april for looking this piece over and helping me make some edits!

Things to Know: All you really have to know is that Aundreya was a criminal who’d already been to and broken out of prison, joined the BAU, Spencer and her had a previous relationship, Aundreya got Spencer sent to prison, broke him out, then took the fall for something Spencer was being accused of that she didn’t do, getting herself sent to prison again.

I’d been called back to help the BAU solve a case. Fascinating how when it was convenient for them, I held some value. But, after that I was just easy to throw in a jail cell to be forgotten about.

I didn’t want to be there, but unfortunately I didn’t have a choice. So, I closed my eyes, and took a long, deep breath before forcing the door open. I had barely entered the room, barely had made eye contact with Hotch standing opposite me, before both my shoulder blades were shoved against the wall behind me, with long fingers wrapping around my throat.

“What is she doing here?” the hiss in Reid’s voice sounded exactly how I’d imagined it in my head preparing for this encounter. He looked almost as bad as me. His curls were going in a million directions, and I could only imagine the amount of times he’d run his hands through them, probably due to stress. His eyes were blood-shot, slightly puffy, and the dark bags underneath seemed more defined. The only thing that contrasted all of that, and let me know his head was still in it, was the darkness he now held in his eyes. There was nothing lighthearted or soft about them anymore, at least, not for the moment and certainly not for me. Plus, there was a red-hot rage I could see boiling at the surface. It was like looking in a funhouse mirror, a warped version of myself being reflected back to me. I’d seen the same fury and darkness in my eyes every morning that was in his now, and the irritation that radiated off him matched my own. Really, the only difference between Spencer and I, was he still had his gun and badge and I didn’t.

“I was invited to help consult,” I snapped through my somewhat restricted breath. “So you better get the fuck off me.”

He gave my throat one last tight squeeze before stepping back, his intense gaze never leaving me. I met his gaze with a wicked smile while brushing my fingers over where the ghost of his hand used to be. I wanted him to see that he didn’t affect me. Angry or not, he held no power in our dynamic anymore.

“Chambers, good to see you,” Derek mocked, giving me a side eye laced with suspicion.

“Can’t say I feel the same,” I deadpanned, then turning on Hotch. “So, why am I here?”

“We have reason to believe that a rogue gang member is kidnapping and killing ex-military if they refuse to join,” Hotch explained with seemingly no emotion, as if he was unaffected by my presence.

“Cool,” I deadpanned again before asking, “So why do you need me?”

��We wanted to know if you know anything or have heard anything-” Derek started.

“Heard anything?” I cut him off with a scoff, “You mean besides the constant clanging of metal bars when I’m not left in complete silence by myself? No, I haven’t heard anything.”

“Can you find them?” Spencer asked as if it would be a difficult task for me.

“So you do want my help,” I clarified.

“I want your skills.”

I let out a disgusted chuckle in response to his quip. Venom dripped from my words as I voiced my thoughts from only moments before stepping into the room. “Oh, I get it. You only want me around when it's convenient for you. Otherwise you just wanna give up on me and let me rot in a cell.”

“What was I supposed to do!”

“What were you supposed to do?” I asked in disbelief, eyes wide. “What were you supposed to do?” I mumbled to myself again in a mocking tone, rolling my eyes. I put my hands on the back of the empty chair in front of me I assumed had held Spencer at one point, and leaned in toward him. He’d retreated behind the table since releasing me, and I quietly snarled towards him, “I don’t know, but sitting there on your tiny, plushy ass, wasn’t it. I’m leaving.”

Spencer was back over to me in a flash, slamming his hand on the door before I could even reach for the handle. Someone got better reflexes. I cocked an eyebrow at him.

“We have a suspect list that we want you to review.” Hotch caught me before I pushed Spencer out of my way.

“Fine. Make it quick.” I looked over the list Hotch gave me that contained about 30 men, none of which rang any bells. “This was a waste of time.”

“Hold on, guys,” Garcia trotted in, “I just found something.” She was in such a rush that she initially didn’t see me, bee-lining it straight for Hotch. Handing the iPad over to him, her eyes lifted to take in the rest of the room. That’s when she noticed me. Her eyes grew to the size of beach balls, and her perfectly done lips hung open. I tried not to feel too hurt, knowing that my presence would come as a shock to her, but it still stung seeing her at a loss for words, possibly even scared. She’d really been the only person who still had any hope left for me, and I was starting to wonder if that was true anymore.

My voice softened as I greeted, “Hey, Penelope.”

She struggled for words, a few ‘uhs’ and ‘ums’ headed my direction, ultimately being saved by Hotch. “Dave, you’re with me. Prentiss, Morgan, I want you to go to the ME, Garcia we’ll need you on call, and JJ, Lewis, I want you to go talk to this man.”

“What about me?” Spencer asked.

“You’re going to stay here and watch her,” Hotch commanded. I started laughing at Spencer’s visible discomfort. Spencer glared at me before opening his mouth to argue, but Hotch stopped him with a voice filled with authority, “I know you won’t be able to focus out there if you know she’s still here unattended. Let’s go.”

When everyone had left and the door shut behind them, I sang, “Well if it isn’t Doctor Reid drawing the short end of the stick, yet again.”

“Just sit down and shut up,” he tried to order with confidence as he took his own advice, sitting as far away from me as possible. Not once had he looked me in the eyes since I’d initially walked in and he had attacked me. Sure, his eyes were on me, but they never connected with mine.

“Is that a demand, doctor?” I challenged him.

“No, but it could be. I just don’t want to be the one responsible for letting you get away.” He shrugged in his chair, resting the ankle of his leg on the knee of the other.

“So you’re just gonna trust me to do what you ask?” I questioned. Throughout the entire time I’d known Spencer, he’d never gotten super riled up over something, but this was a whole different Spencer, one that I didn’t recognize or know . He was more on edge, confident, and clearly willing to wrap his hand around my throat with no hesitation. A type of Spencer I was more than happy to get to know. And let’s face it, I’d been in prison for 15 months. There wasn’t a ton of action going on in there that I wanted to get involved with. I just wanted to see how far I could push him before he snapped. “You don’t trust me, and you know you can’t. I put you in prison, just because I could,” I shrugged, contradicting what I’d insinuated earlier for my own entertainment, “and you think that I won’t just walk away from you when given the chance?”

“You’ve had the chance. For the past three minutes and forty-six seconds you could have left and you didn’t. What’s keeping you here?” he smugly fired back. Oh yeah, he’s definitely going to be fun to mess with.

“What’s keeping you here?” I copied, “Why’d Hotch bench you again? Because you can’t focus when I’m around?”

“No one can focus with you around!” he huffed hotly.

“Not well, but they certainly can do better than what you’re doing right now,” I patronized, “What is it about me that makes you all so nervous, huh? I’m just another criminal who happens to be a former co-worker. I thought you were used to working with those day in and day out.”

“Criminals or co-workers?”

“Either.”

“None of them are like you,” he bit.

“Oh I know,” I ran my tongue over my lips, “So I’ll ask again, what is it about me that makes me so different?”

He looked up at me. In contrast to the first time he locked eyes with me, his expression was stone cold. “You were a part of this team, and you betrayed us. You betrayed me. I don’t know how I could’ve been so stupid to believe you were actually helping us! I just want to know why you picked me. You were going to take one of us down, why’d you choose me?” I could see the gears spinning in his head, and was about to answer when he frustratedly added, “Was it because you thought I’m the weakest?”

That’s it. That’s what’s always made him tick. And he used the present tense. We were still an entire table length apart, so I started slowly sauntering toward him. I prodded, “Is that what you think? You believe you’re the weakest on the team? Or do you just think that’s what I thought?”

“We all have our roles,” he responded, but not nearly as confident as he had been before.

“That’s not an answer,” I pushed.

“You still haven’t answered me, either,” he growled, and I decided to let this one go. We didn’t need to fully delve into his insecurities, no matter how much I wanted to.

“It was similar to that. You were the most afraid of me, I could smell it in the air.” I closed my eyes and pretended to revel in the stench of fear. “But, I could’ve gotten any one of them if I wanted.”

Spencer scoffed at that, “I think you overestimate your abilities.”

“I don’t,” I quickly fired back, “I could’ve gotten any of them, and to be honest, I was going to go after Derek, or maybe Emily, but then you spoke up from the corner of the room and I knew it had to be you.”

“Why?”

“Why this, Aundreya, and why that, Aundreya? Is that the only question you can ask?”

“Is it the only question you can’t answer?”

I was about halfway to him now, and decided to give him a little false hope. “I picked you, not because of your intellect, or how the rest of the team coddles you, or how relationship starved you are. I picked you because I could see something in your eyes that was different, something dark. And once I heard your full back story, I realized just how similar the two of us are.”

“We are nothing alike,” he insisted.

“Really? Because had you made one different choice or one thing went just a little bit wrong, you could have ended up just like me, with no family and no one to give a shit about you or what you do, except for the cops who just wanted you locked up and controlled.” I was dangerously close to him now, his head tilted to look at me, but he didn’t cower away. He actually seemed to welcome it. Which reminded me of something, “After knowing all of that, my past and everything I was, you still agreed to let me on your team.”

“I was the last person to say yes to you joining,” he informed me. This was news to me, but I couldn’t even be sure if he was telling me the truth. “I didn’t think it was a good idea for you to be working with us, but I was outnumbered and outranked.”

“No, you caved to their wishes,” I twisted his words to suit my needs, “Like you caved to mine.” I slowly reached down to place a hand on his chest. He eyed it all the way until I made contact with him, and it was like flipping a switch. He grabbed my wrist and held it close as he pushed out of his chair, the wheels spinning it wildly back into the monitor. He reached for my other wrist, which I let him grab, and held me against the wall, arms pinned next to my head. I did everything I could to not smirk. And he’s still caving.

“I didn’t want you here. I resisted the idea of you being around us,” he spat.

“Like you’re resisting the idea of being around me right now?” I arched an eyebrow, scanning him from head to toe, and I couldn’t help but let my gaze linger on a few spots. He opened his mouth to say something, but he shut it again, locking his jaw. I could see his genius mind at work, trying to come up with some way out of the little mouse trap I’d set up for him. I watched his eyes trail down to my lips and neck, soaking it all in. When his eyes met mine again, I tried to reach for him, but he forcefully slammed my hands back, pinning me to the wall again. Though, I wanted him to touch me this time. He was taking too long to make a move for my liking, so I decided if I couldn’t use my arms, I might as well use my legs.

All of his weight was already leaning toward me, so it wasn’t difficult to wrap my right leg around his waist and bring him all the way to me. The moment that they were within inches of my face, I attacked his lips. I was almost disappointed by the fact that he didn’t seem surprised at all, as if he knew how impatient I was and knew that I would force the first move. But, I wasn’t disappointed for long.

Spencer’s whole body was pressed against mine as he quickly swiped his tongue across my bottom lip, looking for entrance. I granted it, but I wasn’t going to give him the complete dominance that he wanted over the kiss. Instead, our tongues slid over each other’s searching for more than the other was willing to give. It was hot and messy, and he released his grip on my wrists, moving them to apply the same amount of force to my jaw. With my hands free, I made quick work of the buttons on his dress shirt, ripping it open. I was expecting skin and sighed when I found yet another shirt. This man and his layers.

Spencer took advantage of me sighing, giving him more access to my mouth, which I wanted to be annoyed about, but couldn’t care to be. I decided to make better use of my hands, running them down the sides of his body as he wrapped his behind my back. He pulled away from me so abruptly when I tried to massage him through his slacks, he basically dropped me on the floor. It was like being left out in a cold winter storm, just barely out of arm's reach of warmth.

Spencer shook his head, eyes on the floor, as if that would clear his mind of what clouded it, which was me. But I wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. “There. You got what you wanted.”

I gaped at him before retorting, “We both know it wasn’t just me who got what I wanted. I’m sure you had a hard time pulling away.”

He glared at me as he rolled the chair back toward the desk and took a seat, “Not really. I have important work to do.”

I stood there staring at him trying to compose himself. His face was red and he tugged at his pants before crossing his leg over the other. I pressed my lips together, but still failed to contain the small laugh that escaped through my nose.

“Sure,” I mocked, “Especially since everyone else on the team is already doing that work for you.” He didn’t look up from whatever papers were on the table, trying in vain to ignore me, though I wasn’t ready to have his attention off me yet.

I shut the folder that he was in the middle of reading, not like he was actually reading it considering how long it was taking him to flip the page, and sat right on top of it. He was about to reach for it again, but retracted his hand at lightning speed when my legs got in the way. I flashed another mockingly sweet smile his way, but he looked out toward the window, right next to the wall I’d just come from. I swung my legs back and forth off the side of the table just a bit, careful not to completely kick Spencer in the shin, though I couldn’t help but let my toes accidentally tap him a few times. As with all of the other times I’d touched him, he moved out of the way, uncrossing his legs with a perfect foot-sized gap in between his knees. I rested my foot in that small gap on the chair, rolling his body closer to me. Then, for no other reason than wanting to feel him squirm underneath me, I plopped down on his lap, my legs straddling his. I pretty much had him locked in his seat.

“What are you doing?” he questioned, a look of complete indifference gracing his face, but I knew it was just a front.

“Just making sure you’re doing your job,” I replied, winking at him.

“And… how do you think this is helping me do my job?”

“I’m making sure you’re paying attention to me,” I whispered in his ear seductively, lacing my fingers together on the back of his neck, “Plus, I’m doing what you asked me to. How did you put it? Sit down and shut-”

Using his thumb and forefinger, he pinched my cheeks and brought my lips to his forcefully. The kiss was just as hungry as the last, teeth clashing and tongues furiously fighting. He moved his long fingers onto my hips with a bruising grip, which I had absentmindedly started grinding against his. He pulled away from me for a moment, and his harsh tone reminded me that this was nothing like the last time we’d been together, when we’d both been a bit more innocent. “You never did have any manners at work.”

I smirked, “I know. Imagine my manners at home.”

A low, almost inaudible groan came from Spencer’s throat at my suggestion, but he tried to cover it up by moving my hair out of the way and latching his lips onto the side of my neck. I gasped at the contact of his teeth pulling at my soft flesh, paired with the feeling of his growing bulge pressed against my core. His fingers gripped my hips harder and moved them faster, drawing a small whimper from my lips. I felt him smile as he trailed kisses down my neck to my collar bone, leaving a single bite mark there. I tried so hard to contain my high-pitched moan when he moved one of his hands from my waist to pinch one of my nipples through my shirt.

But I was supposed to be the clear-headed one, so I forced myself to not get too wrapped up in the feeling. If I wanted to get to my end goal, I was going to have to leave him wanting more, which unfortunately in turn meant leaving myself in the same condition.

My hips had gotten faster along with Spencer’s hands, but when I felt him start to buck his hips up against me, I knew that he was getting close and it had to end. Immediately, I stopped my movements and untangled myself from him, but not before dragging a finger up the column of his throat, sneering, “Too bad. I could’ve helped you, had you done anything to help me.”

I left that open for interpretation, either as a jab to his masculinity or to what started my rage in the first place: being left in prison. He didn’t ask for clarification either, clearly too bothered by being left on edge. He did, however, follow up with, “Help you? Why would I want to do that? You’re a terrible person.”

I grinned as if receiving a medal of honor, “That I am, Doctor.”

I moved the lay down on the couch while Spencer attempted to refocus on his work. I made a show of sighing a couple times and rolling around ‘to find a comfortable position’ on the couch, just to piss him off. I could tell it was working based on his clenched fists turning white, and the way his leg was jumping. He was resting his head in his hand, which almost perfectly shielded my face from his.

He still wasn’t turning the page, so I offered, “Can you flip the page by yourself, or do you need some help?”

He wasn’t given the opportunity to respond, because Hotch, followed by most of the team, came barreling through the door.

“Colby Ulton, 43 years old, has a long record and wasn’t home,” JJ announced, following Hotch. It’d been a while since I had to deal with their inhuman pace when it came to talking about unsubs and profiles, so most of the stuff they said next flew over my head.

I was way behind in the conversation, but none of that mattered when Hotch turned to me, “Colby Ulton. I want you on him.” He'd barely gotten the command out before I was reaching for the door handle.

“I don’t.” The words were hot and dry and coming from none other than Doctor Reid. I rolled my eyes. He moved to step in front of the door, blocking my passage out again, leaning casually with his back against it, arms crossed. Our faces were barely centimeters apart.

“Why not?” I asked in a mock-curious voice.

“I don’t trust you. Who’s to say you won’t just run off? Then we’d let a high-profile criminal walk free. Plus, we’re not even sure he’s the right man,” Spencer pointed out. I was going to point out how I had just made that same argument about me leaving, and he refuted it himself only to bring it back up now, but I didn’t get the chance.

“He’s the best we’ve got right now,” Derek countered. I could tell he sort of just wanted me out of the room, but Spencer’s motives appeared very different.

He never took his eyes off of mine as he recited, “We think it’s a rogue gang member who’s either left or been kicked out within the past year. Ulton’s been in prison, which could mean he’s gone rogue, or it could mean he’s joined a new gang, one that, as you probably know, wouldn’t allow this type of acting out. Either way, he hasn’t demonstrated gang affiliated behavior in almost three years. Not to mention he had his tattoo removed and is out of our age range. I don’t think putting her on, most likely, the wrong man’s trail is worth the risk of letting her walk free.”

The room was silent as we all waited for someone else to make the first move. I decided to be that person. “So what do you suggest they do with me, hm?” I questioned, walking my two fingers up his chest with each word. Then I leaned in and made it very clear, “Because I am not going back to prison.”

I bit his earlobe on the way back, and I saw the way his pupils dilated just slightly at the feeling, “I’ll watch her for the night.”

“What?” Derek and I said at the same time, but our facial expressions were very different.

“Yes,” he stated, more confidently now, “She has nothing to do right now, but we might need her later in the investigation, so sending her all the way back to prison doesn’t make sense.”

“And you'll make sure she doesn’t escape?” Derek questioned.

“She hasn’t so far, has she?” Spencer challenged. When he got unnerved looks from the rest of the team, he assured, shooting a small smirk my way, “Trust me, she won’t.” How cute. He thinks he can wrap his skinny little fingers around my neck and pull a moan from me once, and all the sudden he’s in control. He switched our position, pinning me up against the door, clasping the handcuffs back around my wrists in front of me. I was starting to think he had a thing for pushing people into walls. It was his turn to whisper in my ear, “And you won't want to.”

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

When we arrived back at his apartment, I took a moment to survey the room. It looked almost exactly as it had the last time I’d been there. Books piled up everywhere, papers strewn all over the desk, a little dark and dusty, maybe a bit more worn, but nothing too out of the ordinary. The only difference was that it no longer suited him as well anymore. He used to be this shy, studious, loner-type that didn’t really like people, and he had a certain innocence about him. There was nothing innocent about him anymore. He didn’t seem shy either, much more confident; still studious and a loner though. However, I bet he liked having at least one person over at all times, or not being home at all. It meant that he didn’t have to be alone with his own mind, and after being in solitude myself, and knowing that he’d been in there too, that feeling of complete silence, utter aloneness, was something we’d never want to experience again. We were honestly perfect for each other in that way.

The other thing I’d noticed, based on what I'd seen of him within the last few hours and what I knew prison could do to a person, I guessed he went off of instinct rather than intelligence more than he ever had in his life.

Spencer had to take the time to shrug off his satchel and kick off his shoes, neither of which I even had. All I had was myself and what I was wearing, which wasn’t much. At least I wasn’t in an orange jumpsuit anymore.

“Wow, you’ve really renovated the place,” I snickered. Spencer didn’t say anything, just rolled his eyes and brushed past me. I forced my wrists outward a couple times, making a clanking sound with the cuffs, asking, “You gonna take these off?”

He faced me with a smirk and shook his head slightly, “Don’t think so.” Pulling out a chair at the puny kitchen table, he sat down, and I felt like we were much in the same position we’d been in at the office. I was in his home turf, if I could even call it that, but I wasn’t just going to let him be in charge.

I decided to go straight for the jugular, “Why’d you bring me home, Spence?”

“This isn’t home, not for you,” he snapped.

I scoffed, “Doesn’t look like it is for you, either, but that doesn’t change the question.”

“I told you. I didn’t want to risk you running away.”

“You didn’t want to lose me?” I inquired. He could hear the way I was rephrasing it to change the narrative, not like I was wrong, but he successfully dodged it.

“I didn’t want to lose an asset over the wrong man, tipping the right one off, and potentially risking him going underground. I’m just trying to catch an unsub,” he shrugged.

“You’ve got an answer for everything, don’t you?” I shook my head in amusement.

“You don’t?” he cocked an eyebrow.

“Of course I do,” I quickly answered.

“Then answer this,” Spencer squared his shoulders, now completely facing me, “Why didn’t you run the moment you got the chance?”

“I had three FBI personnel in the car with me, then a team of BAU agents surrounding me, and then was left alone in the same room as an agent who can shoot 100 on his test. I am many things, but I am not stupid nor am I suicidal.”

“How’d you know I shot 100?” Spencer followed up.

I smiled, “I know things.”

“How about all the chances you got when you were in prison? You’ve broken out plenty of times before, why not do it again?” He was leaning forward, and he seemed genuinely curious.

It was a good question, one that I actually hadn’t pre-thought the answer to. Frankly, I wasn’t expecting to even make it this far. “I was biding my time.”

“For..?”

“Leverage.” It was a simple word, but one that seemed to make a great impact. Spencer leaned back in his chair and contemplated my answer. It wasn’t a complete lie either, I just didn’t want to give away too many details.

Spencer finally whispered, “Against?”

I flashed him a wicked smile. “You.” His face contorted into something I couldn’t fully recognize, eyes narrowing. “You, Spencer. I’ve been waiting for you to make an error, a mistake. That was the one flaw in my plan, that while I picked the easiest to emotionally manipulate, I picked the hardest to mentally manipulate. And you don’t make very many mental mistakes, do you Spencer?” I asked, approaching him. I’m really hoping you’d like to cash one in right now, though. I could practically see the internal argument being fought inside Spencer’s head; one side telling him to give in, it wasn’t that bad, the other telling him to resist, that somehow, this would corrupt him further. I needed the former to win. “You wouldn’t let yourself get caught up in the moment, would you? You wouldn’t crack, take what you want, what you need, what you deserve against your better judgement. Because you’re all brain, Spencer. All brain, and no heart.”

That’s what did it.

Spencer literally swept me off my feet, tossing me onto the couch like a rag doll. His hand returned to my throat as if it belonged there, and he pushed open my legs with his knees. My hands may have been cuffed, but they could still be useful. I moved them to start unbuttoning his shirt when he swatted them away. He spat, “I’m not heartless. Not like you.”

“No,” I agreed, “You’re worse. At least I can admit to what I am. You just hide behind a badge and gun.”

Spencer shoved two fingers in my mouth, probably trying to shut me up. I smirked, running my tongue up and down the long digits, making sure to give him a preview of what was to come if he’d let it. His other hand trailed down the side of my body until it reached the waistband of the pants I was wearing. Forcefully, he yanked them down, taking my panties with them. I knew I was already pooling, but of course he had to rub it in. Snarky, he mocked, “For someone who talks a big game, you’re already looking pretty weak.”

I silently cursed my body for finding him arousing, and was about to have to come up with a clever comment when I saw Spencer pause. He was charging straight into this, and then he just stopped. I tilted my head, “Worried you don’t have it in you?”

Spencer met my eyes, and cooly stated, “I’m not going to let you be my mistake.”

Dammit. When I felt him start to pull away, I knew I had to say something to get him to stay. I needed to turn this into an advantage in his eyes, not just mine. “Why? So you can let this rage build up inside of you, eat away at your every thought, until you snap? What then? You lash out during a case, which causes someone to die, either because of your incapabilities or at your hand? And what for? Because you’re still mad at me? I’m right here in front of you, Spencer! You’re never going to get a chance like this again, so just do something!” By the end, it was a plea, and one that was brutally answered.

Spencer pushed two of his fingers inside me, already moving at a quick pace. I let out a small yelp at the sensation which clearly pleased Spencer. I attempted to refocus on unbuttoning his shirt, which became increasingly difficult because of how he was curling his fingers to hit that spot just right. I barely finished, pushing his shirt away from his shoulders when he leaned away from me, taking both of his fingers with him. I was about to complain until I saw him dropping his shirt to the ground and unbuckling his belt, pushing his own pants and underwear out of the way in a similar fashion as he’d done to mine. He pumped his fist over his shaft a couple of times before lining himself up between my wide open legs. He teased my clit with the tip of his cock, and I could feel the precum beading there. I bit my lip as I looked up at him.

Spencer’s eyes were blown when he quietly demanded, “Say it.” He wants me to beg. I was okay with him thinking he was in charge for now, so I played into it by shaking my head. He slammed my cuffed wrists against the arm of the couch just above my head, bringing his face so close I could feel his lips brush mine as he repeated, “Say it.”

It was more forceful the second time, and something about his hot breath on my face and the feeling of his hips trying, and failing, to stay still against mine pulled a whimper all too genuine from my lips, “Punish me.”

At my words, he slammed his cock in my entrance, setting a merciless pace. With no time to adjust to his length, the heat burning between my legs got fiercer. The sounds of his hips hitting mine filled the room, both of us trying to control our moans, not wanting the other to know how much we were really enjoying it. My back arched off the couch, sending my fingers over the arm, brushing over thin objects on the small table there. A pen and paper clip.

I pressed my lips together to contain the grin that just about took over my face. Looking down at Spencer, who was way too busy biting marks into my skin, I could tell he hadn’t noticed the detrimental error I’d just realized he’d made. I made quick work of unclasping the cuffs from around my wrists, but left them on loosely just for show.

The coil in my stomach was getting tighter and tighter, and while I usually would have tried to control myself, I let the moans tear through my lungs. This caught Spencer’s attention, perring up at me with a twinkle in his eyes, one that told me he thought he had me. He mouthed into my neck, “This too much for you to handle, Jailbird?”

I scoffed at his pet name. Alright Doctor Reid, you’ve had your fun. Now let me show you how to really be in charge. “Not in the slightest, Mouse,” I quipped. Before he could think, I wrapped my legs around his waist, and put my hands on the back of his head. I flipped us off the side of the couch, landing on top of Spencer. With the wind knocked out of him, I quickly grabbed his wrist, clasping one of the cuffs around it, looping the chain behind the couch leg, then synching the other around his free wrist. I placed his head on the ground and leaned back, tracing patterns on his chest.

It took him a moment to realize what had just happened, but I saw the moment the light went off. “You filthy bitch.”

I chuckled, “It seems as though that genius memory of yours forgot that I’m a criminally sound escape artist.”

He was fuming, but contained himself long enough to ask, “What changed?” I raised an eyebrow at him. “Since last time? You had no problem letting me take control then.”

I simply stated with disgust, “I was soft then.”

“Who’s to say you aren’t still now?” Spencer challenged.

I laced my fingers with his as I pinned them to the ground, my turn to be the one looking down on him, faces only centimeters apart. We locked eyes as I explained, “You can see it too, I know you can. I wake up and see it in the mirror every day, and I see it in you too now. It’s in your eyes. That darkness. That feeling of destruction, of being broken, of being a monster. It’s there. I can see it like it’s my own.”

I expected him to snap at me. To argue with a clever quip. But he didn’t. Spencer leaned up as far as he could and kissed me. Not in the angry, predatory-like way that we had earlier, but really kissed me. I was so taken aback by the gesture that I practically jumped off him after a few seconds. I hated myself for letting it happen for even that long.

I stormed away from him, hissing, “Don’t try to get my sympathy now that you’re the one chained like a dirty animal. I’m not gonna fall for it.”

I saw something quick flash across his face before it hardened again. I could feel his eyes following my every move as I walked away, so I decided to make a show of it. I swished my hips back and forth, and even bent all the way over to pick up our clothes for no reason, just so he could have a perfect view between my legs. I heard the rattle of the cuffs against the couch and smirked to myself.

Tossing the clothes as far away as possible, I reached under my shirt to unclasp my bra, slipping it out one of the arm holes. I spun it around my index finger a couple of times before letting it fly off in the direction of the rest of our clothes. Toying with the hem of my shirt, I rhythmically moved it around my body so that he could only see some exposed skin at a time. I slowly pulled it higher and higher until I removed the garment completely. Standing completely bare in front of him, looking down on his naked body, I’d never felt more in control.

Spencer was drilling holes into me as I got down on my knees, crawling toward him. Again, his hands shot forward only to be stopped by the metal. I tutted, “Now, now, Mouse. That’s not how this works.”

I stroked a single finger up his length, and when it brushed over the tip, he squeezed his eyes shut. I wetted my lips as I wrapped a single hand around his cock, starting at an agonizingly slow pace, a stark contrast to the one he’d set earlier. I had barely started moving at a faster pace when Spencer started to buck his hips up into my hand. I slammed his hips back down with my other arm, giving him a cold look. His hips stilled and I knew he was getting desperate.

I flattened my palm against his lower belly, making sure he’d stay in place as I steadily picked up the pace. Spencer threw his head back when I swiped my tongue over his tip, and huffed when I retracted my hands, breaking contact all together.

I hummed, “Actually, this isn’t that interesting.” I scooted back on the floor, holding eye contact with his piercing irises as I spread my legs wide open for him to see. Neither one of us has had our release yet, so I might as well take mine and leave him high and dry.

I brushed my fingertips down my body, cupping my breasts on the way, until I reached my clit. I started to rub circles over the bundle of nerves, not realizing how close I already was. I let out exaggerated moans as I continued my ministrations, steadily pushing myself toward the edge.

“Stop.” It was barely a whisper, and I wasn’t sure if I even heard it, so I ignored it. Right as another moan ripped through my lungs, I heard Spencer say, louder and more demanding this time, “Stop.”

I was too close to stop. I barely had the mental capacity to smirk down at him before I felt my release crash over me like a tidal wave. For dramatic effect, I whined out Spencer’s name as my walls clenched around nothing, helping myself through my orgasm. Slowly coming down from my high, my head lulled back, release seeping into his rug.

Barely allowing myself to catch my breath, I leaned forward onto my knees, and looked at Spencer’s face, which was red with anger or desperation I couldn’t tell, but brought my lips down on his dick regardless. He grunted at the sensation, and I could feel the heat radiating off of him. I swirled my tongue around him until I couldn’t anymore, opting to just trace a protruding vein instead. I started to hollow out my cheeks when he bucked up into me, forcing me to take all of him in at once. He groaned when I started gagging around his length, and when I coughed after pulling off him, he had the audacity to laugh.

“Having trouble there, Jailbird?” Spencer smugly asked. I looked down at his length laying against his stomach and saw that it was a deep red, and had to have been painfully hard at that point. With that in mind, along with my recent release, I crawled over him.

I looked at him as I hovered my pussy just above his cock. “I wouldn’t be worried about me. I’d be worried about how you’re gonna take care of yourself with your hands cuffed if I decided I’m done with you.”

That threat wiped the smug look right off his face. I was already wet again, and allowed him to only barely feel what was waiting for him if he behaved, lowering myself down so his length was just brushing my lips.

His face contorted and then he said the word of my victory, “Please.”

Taking hold of his cock in one hand, I lined myself up, and slowly sunk down. He filled me up completely, a bit thicker than I remembered, and I sat comfortably in his lap. This was clearly what Spencer wanted, but there was no way in hell it was going to be that easy. I just sat there looking at him, and based on the crazed look on his face, he was expecting me to start moving immediately.

We stared each other down for a moment before his whole body jerked forward, hands yanking on the cuffs. It was my turn to laugh at his pathetic struggles, but I still didn’t have quite what I wanted yet. Raising my hips up, I quickly slammed them down, pulling the loudest groan I’d heard from Spencer. When I didn’t move again, he started squirming underneath me, and I asked, “What is it you want me to do, Mouse?”

Then he broke, his strangled pleas music to my ears, “God, fuck me, please, just fuck me!”

I grinned as I captured his lips in a vicious kiss, pulling his bottom lip between my teeth. Steadying myself with my palm on his chest, I lifted my hips up, only to let them fall back into his lap. I started slower than either of us wanted, letting myself adjust to his full size before bouncing freely on his dick. The sounds of our heavy moans filled the air, sweat collecting on our bodies.

I was honestly surprised at how long Spencer had lasted when he let out one final shriek before coming undone below me. He’d given up, completely relaxed on the floor as I started chasing my second orgasm. Spencer peered up at me through hooded eyes, and soon enough starting letting out cries, and I knew I was pushing him. I didn’t want to completely overwhelm him but I was so close…

I wouldn’t get there, not yet anyway, because Spencer did something I was not expecting. The couch hit the floor with a loud thud, giving Spencer the freedom to move his arms. He wrapped the chain of the cuffs around the back of my neck and flipped me over in one swift motion, almost identical to how I’d just done it to him.

I was completely caught off guard, and let a surprised squeak leave my lips. I was almost impressed. Almost.

As if he could see straight into my mind, Spencer remarked, “I’m a quick study.” His entire body weight was over me, and there was very little wiggle room for an escape.

I followed Spencer’s eyes as he scanned around the room, glanced at his wrists, then sighed when he spotted his pants. Must’ve been where he put the key.

I raised my pitch and snidely sang like a schoolgirl, “Whatcha gonna do Mouse? You gonna fuck me like the inmate you are, or are you gonna free yourself, hm?”

Pressing his hands down on either side of my perfectly laid out ones above my head, the chain between the cuffs digging into my forearms, he chided, “I’m sure I can handle you just fine with them on. I’m not quite done with you yet, Jailbird.”

My walls fluttered around his cock at the gravelly sound of his voice and the threat that accompanied it. It’s as if he’s chained to me. I shuddered happily at the thought.

“Is that what this is about?” Spencer hissed, clearly catching my pleased look and the way my pussy pulled him in a little more at his harsh words, “You just enjoy seeing me as some twisted killer?”

“I enjoy seeing you for who you truly are.”

I wasn’t able to form another coherent thought after that one, the pace Spencer was pounding into me like one I’d never felt. He fucked his cum from only seconds ago back into me, the wet sound of our mixing fluids filling the room. I could barely focus on where his hands had moved to, teasing my nipples, because the fire between my legs was jumping higher and higher. As it finally burned through me in the sweetest way possible, I reached to grab onto anything, the first thing my fingers found being Spencer’s hair. He growled when I tugged, but his pace never let up.

As I came down from my high, Spencer didn’t stop. The feelings were becoming too strong, too overpowering, pleasure bordering on pain. I tried to pull my hips away from his, but there was nothing I could do. To stop my squirming, he sat back slightly and pressed his large palms down on my hip bones. Moving also changed the angle he was slamming into me, now bottoming out with each thrust. I needed some reprieve.

“Spencer,” I whined, but there was a nothingness in his eyes.

His hands snaked up to my throat, applying massive pressure to my windpipe. “Is this what you wanted?” Spencer yelled, “Is this what you think I truly am?”

I was having trouble getting the air into my lungs, let alone respond. I wanted to force him to face his reality of being an ex-con, knowing how shitty it was to be on the inside and just letting me sit in there. A consequence of my own actions, but considering I was doing it to save him, I was looking for a little bit more effort on the getting out process.

But he’d left me in there. He didn’t care. He didn’t care despite the fact that he knew what I was going through, that I could tell he was still dealing with his own PTSD and not well, and that everything had changed for him. People looked at him and treated him differently. He was a different person. Corrupt. And he’d only been in there for not even three months.

I’d been in there for five times as long.

I wanted him to realize just how much damage him and his useless team were doing to me by not helping me get out. I wanted him to realize how fucked up that was, and how terrible of a person that made him. I wanted him to realize he was just as big of a monster as I was.

I accomplished that. But I underestimated how much darkness he’d really been holding back.

My head started to feel light, and I could tell I was on the brink of my third release. The sound of skin slapping skin was sinful and I couldn’t focus on anything other than the feeling of his tip hitting my a-spot, the way my legs were shaking around his body, the way the muscles in his back felt against my nails as I clawed them down it. My release came quicker than Spencer’s, who wasn’t too far behind me. His thrusts became shallower, as he spilled into me for the second time. It was as if all the energy had been drained out of me in an instant, along with my anger and hatred. Spencer rolled off of me, and I saw his figure weakly collapse to the ground.

It was an eerie calm, the sound of absolute nothingness, the only disturbance being our labored breathing.

I didn’t know how long it’d been when Spencer’s voice, the softest I’d heard it since the day’s start, whispered, “Are you okay?”

I glanced at him with a confused look. He let out a small sigh at my non response, collecting himself before walking over to his long forgotten pants for the cuffs key. After freeing his wrists, he walked back over to me and helped me up, ushering me to the bathroom.

I could tell he was examining me, but it wasn’t until I stood in front of the mirror that I realized why. “Look at those bruises around your neck, Jailbird. They suit you.”

The bruises were deep and already turning a nice purple. I scanned the rest of me finding more bruises on my hips, thighs, shoulders, wrists, and not to mention the bite mark on my collar. I scanned Spencer next, his only bruises coming from his wrists and the red marks I left on his back. “I wasn’t expecting that from you.”

He met my eyes in the mirror, “What were you expecting?”

I shook my head, “I don’t know.” I truly didn’t. I went into it knowing I wanted to force him to see everything he had, everything he was, but I guess I didn’t really think about what that would force me to see. My exhaustion started to give way to a heap of emotions, and a single, involuntary tear escaped my eye. Spencer brushed his fingers over my neck, simultaneously pulling my hair behind my shoulder.

He kissed the tender, bruised skin, and I remembered the times before, the times when it felt like we’d really been in love. I felt his breath on me as he mumbled, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

I turned on my heels to face him, “You didn’t.”

I didn’t know what compelled him to confess what I never thought he would, but he sounded deeply ashamed when admitting, “I wanted to.”

“What stopped you?” I was genuinely curious. We’d hurt each other in the most extreme ways before today, getting the other sent to a cage in hell, betraying each other.

“I’m broken, but I’m not beyond repair, and hurting you would make me someone that I don’t want to be.”

I gave him a tired smile, and all I could muster was, “Pretty convincing.”

“I’m sorry if I scared you.”

“Don’t be, you didn’t. You couldn’t,” I assured him. It was the truth.

“I should’ve,” he bit, looking down at his hands, which were so delicately holding my waist I couldn’t be sure he was even touching me.

“Why?” I questioned, the seriousness evident in my voice, “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He shook his head, and a stray curl or two tickled my forehead. “I could’ve.”

“I trusted you not to.” I clasped my hands together and rested them on his back.

Spencer’s shaky voice matched his glistening eyes as they locked with mine, “I just wasn’t sure. All I know is that I scare myself sometimes.”

I pressed my forehead against his own, “Well, then I guess we’re two people who have nothing to fear other than ourselves.”

Read the full series

Taging some people:

@justanothetfangirl @kris-stuff @blameitonthenight21 @wooya1224 @unded-bride @swiftingday @dezzxmx @andiebeaword @psychicdonuts @aperrywilliams @goldentournesol @homoose

#spencer reid smut #aundreya chambers #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid fanfiction #spencer x oc #spencer reid angst #dr spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfiction #cm #bau #hotch #morgan #garcia

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r3volutionary-queen · 3 years

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Trivia Tuesday

Creators: give a “behind the scenes” look at one of your works. This could be things that got removed or changed, the origins of ideas/details, whatever you like!

(Thanks @ao3commentoftheday for the header!)

-+-

I haven’t done one of these in a while. After having a pretty deep Ignition chat with @unlimitedhappylife last night, I thought it might be fun to share some insight.

One thing, if you read with a magnifying glass, you’ll notice in Ignition is that it has layers. Layers on layers on layers. I also love playing with parallels. One of my favorite examples is the dynamic between Steve and Darcy. Prepare for a long post below of an author’s ramblings.

A big theme in this story is sacrifice. In the start of Ignition we see it play out where Steve is willing to put Darcy at risk by taking her on a secret mission in order to bring back the TeleThor. When they get back to the safe house, successful but with a close call, Thor and Steve have a big argument over it because to Thor, the idea that Steve was so willing to put Darcy, who is infinitely precious to him, in danger is enraging. In their argument, we see Steve state that it was Darcy’s ultimate choice to take the risk and that she has that right.

And Thor struggles with that reality because he loves Darcy like a little sister—she is all he has left.

Later, after Thanos threw down the ultimatum to the Avengers demanding they turn themselves in or he starts killing 50 random citizens a day, we see Steve getting ready to turn himself in to Thanos. He’s ready to sacrifice himself so that 50 citizens can go free because one life for 50 is worth it to him. And we see Darcy have a major issue with that (basically having a similar stance as Thor in the first argument over the idea of sacrifice).

“And if I willingly choose to sit back and let fifty people—fifty lives—be snuffed out, what will my life be worth then?” Steve’s voice was hard and unyielding. “It’s a selfish thing to want to trade fifty innocents for our lives.”

“Says the man who wouldn’t be left behind to drown in the grief,” she snapped, slamming down her mug.

And a little later in their argument...

“Steve, you’re asking me to do the very thing you are unwilling to do: knowingly stand back and let a sacrifice happen. If we’re—you said we’re friends, right?”

He gave her a careful nod, like he was waiting for the trap, and Darcy pressed on.

“Then stop asking me to be okay with losing you.”

And then, later on when the Soul Stone comes into play, I flip the script. Steve gets to experience firsthand what Darcy felt in that kitchen—what it’s like for someone he cares about to decide to put their life at risk.

And suddenly, Steve is no longer okay with the idea. It makes you wonder if the Steve we see later in Ignition would have been as open to the idea of sneaking Darcy out on a secret mission as the earlier Steve was.

Also, everyone loves to get pissed at Clint and I get it, he’s a bit of a dick. But I wanted to write Endgame Clint (minus the Murder spree) and have him be an alternative view on things. And, whether we like him or not, he speaks some pretty hard truth. He calls Steve out on his shit (in an asshole kind of way lol).

“Darcy.”

Clint slid a dangerous look at Steve who was leaning forward trying to get her attention, his hand closed in a tight fist. The archer lifted one cool brow, his voice turning mean. “Yeah, you’re going to get over that coddling shit real fast, Cap. We’ve all got tough decisions to make and a part to play. We’ve known since the moment Loki brought back the stone that there would be a sacrifice and—”

“—and it’s not you being ripped open by an infinity stone every time you touch it.” Steve bit out with real venom, his eyes flashing.

“Maybe if you weren’t just interested in getting your dick wet—”

Darcy flinched, shame washing over her, turning her face a bright red.

And a few paragraphs later...

Steve’s jaw ticked. “I don’t want us to fight, we’ve got a big enough enemy already. We don’t need to add more amongst ourselves. That being said, you do seem awful eager to spill blood that isn’t your own, Barton. That’s where I have my problem,” Steve tried, his tone less defensive.

Clint snorted humorlessly, still clearly riled up. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse, barely more than a rasp, like he had screamed it all out.

“That’s easy for you to say. Didn’t you sneak her off for a fucking mission back at the safehouse? What, now suddenly things are different—you care?”

Bottom line: I love gray areas. I love decisions that aren’t black and white, things that make you think.

Darcy is their only hope at that time of bringing back half the universe. One life for half the universe, is it worth it? Clint doesn’t know Darcy like Steve or Thor do, to him, she is the key to bringing back those he loves and so in his mind, it’s worth it.

Steve had this same conversation with Vision in Infinity War and remember, Vision was okay with sacrifice but Wanda was not (again, it’s different when the sacrifice is not yourself but someone you love).

Anyway, congrats if you read all of that. Welcome to how fucking complicated the storylines and characterizations are in my head. It’s a hot mess most of the time, but I also love this kind of shit.

If this is something folks like, I’d be happy to share any other sort of behind the scenes insights to the story or characters.

Annnnd I’m done 😂

#ignition talk #steve rogers #darcy lewis #clint barton #Thor #characterization #parallels #my writing process #behind the scenes #ao3 #trivia tuesday #sacrfice #writing themes #did this make any sense #probably not #beware #rev is getting philosophical today

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karihighman · 4 years

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Witness - Upstead AU

PART 2: BECOMING YOUR FRIEND WAS A CHOICE

After the longest night of her life, Hailey just wanted to sleep. The problem? It was 6AM in the morning, and her roommate, Vanessa, was already at work. Vanessa works at the recreational center nearby Hailey’s family’s bakery. She grew up in the foster care system, and worked odd jobs to put herself through college. She has a social work degree, and plans to open her own community center. That’s where Hailey met her, was in college. Point being, Vanessa was always up before the sun, and would get home in the early evenings. Meanwhile, Hailey takes her classes during the day, and on her off days, she spends it working the afternoon and night shifts at the bakery. Her parents need a break, and honestly, she needed a break from them.

Her parents were great, helped Hailey with her tuition, and were in her life for all the major moments. But, her parents’ relationship? That was another story. Her dad was abusive towards her mom, her brothers, and herself when they were younger. The physical abuse didn’t happen anymore, but it didn’t stop her father from berating her mother, or his sons and daughter. It only happened sometimes, when he would get really plastered.

If his sports team lost, if he lost his job, you name it, it usually ended up in the same tragic way.

Hailey was drawn out of her own thoughts by the pulling back of the hospital curtain. The last thing she remembered was meeting Jay, and by that time, it was either 1 or 2 in the morning. So, at least she’d gotten a few hours of sleep. Why it was still at Chicago Med, she didn’t know. But, she assumed the redheaded doctor that entered her room could answer that question.

“Hailey Upton, good to see you awake! I’m Will Halstead, and I’ll be reviewing your discharge information with you.”

Hailey furrowed her brows. Did he just say Halstead? Or was she hallucinating? “Did you say Halstead?” She asked him.

Will’s mouth quirked into a lopsided smile. “Yes, I did. I’m assuming you met my younger brother, Jay, a few hours earlier.”

Hailey nodded, remembering the very attractive detective she had spoken to. “Yeah, I did.”

“He was the one that told me you had fallen asleep mid conversation, so we figured it was okay to let you sleep given what you’d been through.”

Hailey’s mouth dropped open a bit. She fell asleep? While talking to Jay? Well that’s just great. “Oh. Well, if you see him, could you please tell him I’m sorry about that. I had been working a full shift, and had a full day of classes the day before. I’d barely logged 4 hours the night before, so I was on “this is my fourth coffee” mode.”

Will was maneuvering around her as she offered up an apology. He shined a bright light in her eyes to check her vision, which jarred Hailey a little. She blinked to get the spots out of her eyes, but tried to listen to what he was saying as he put the blood pressure cuff on her arm.

“Hm?” She hummed as he put all his materials down.

“I just said we’re done. You just need to sign this paper, and you’ll be on your way.”

“Oh,” Hailey faltered. “Yeah, okay. Um, I’ll just need to call a cab or an Uber since my roommate’s at work already. And, well, my car is back at the bakery…” She wasn’t meaning to spill her guts to Dr. Will Halstead, she was just talking out loud.

Her head snapped up as Will snapped his fingers. “Well, I happen to know someone that’s very willing to give you a ride back home. Plus, you can apologize on the way to your apartment.”

Hailey barely mastered an “Um” when she was met with those damn green eyes again.

Jay stood next to his brother, which 1) allowed Hailey to see the resemblance between them and 2) allowed Hailey to pay attention to tiny details about him. Like the smattering of freckles across his face, or how he always kept his hands in his pockets. His eyes were kind, and his smile was soft as he gave her a small wave.

She couldn’t help but smile back. “Hey, Jay.”

“Hi Hailey,” he replied. “I figured since we didn’t get to finish our chat earlier, that I’d offer you a lift home so we could.” He shrugged his shoulders awkwardly, like he didn’t really do this often.

Neither did Hailey, but what other option did she have?

“Uh, sure, thank you. Just let me grab my stuff and we can go.”

Jay nodded, and Hailey hopped off the table she fell asleep on, and onto the ground to pick up her purse. She zipped up her jacket, and she was fine to go. She noticed on their way out of the hospital, that Jay was wearing normal clothes. Usually the police officers she saw wore navy and/or light blue uniforms. She did however, see a glimmer of a badge on his belt, only because he fished his keys out of his back pocket.

She had the dumbest thought in the world as they exited the doors and Jay pointed them to his truck. Where did he keep his gun?

She smiled to herself and ducked her head down before Jay could catch her and then ask her what she was smiling about. She ran a couple fingers over her lips before stuffing her hands into her jacket pockets as they stood in front of his black GMC truck.

“And here I thought you’d be driving one of those white patrol cars I see roaming neighborhoods,” she told him, cracking a smile so he knew she was only kidding. Somewhat, anyhow. Truth be told, he was nothing she thought a cop to be. The ones that showed up at her doorstep all those years ago….they were blunt, harsh, and intimidating. Older guys shoving her and her brothers out, others holding their parents back.

It was a lot to handle at 12 years old. Her brothers were 14 and 15 at the time, so they looked out for her. But even they couldn’t comprehend why their parents were being talked to separately, or why their mom looked like she’d been crying, and why their father looked like he didn’t have a care in the world. They’d been fine all of those nights….or so she thought. Sure, there were some screams from a loud argument, or a harsh word exchanged here or there, but she thought all adults fought at some point. People in general fought, right? War, politics, etc. People can hurt other people. It may have been a harsh reality for a twelve year old to hold onto, but, hey, she wasn’t like most girls. Never had been. Never planned on being either.

—————

Jay couldn’t help himself. On the 20 minute drive from Med to Hailey’s apartment, he’d keep checking on her out of the corner of his eye. Once or twice, both of his eyes would flutter in her direction, to which he’d offer her a general smile. He’d breathe a quiet sigh of relief when she’d return it tenfold.

She had a really pretty smile. No, he thought to himself. He’d used pretty before already. Call it detectives intuition, or maybe it was just because he’d grown up studying people and how they behaved since his own family dynamic was pretty screwy – but regardless, he knew people like Hailey had stories buried beneath the surface.

He could tell by the tension she held in her face and body. How her jaw clenched ever so slightly, or how her hands would fidget in the same patterns every couple minutes. And of course, her tell of running a hand through her hair.

Complex, would be the word he’d use to describe that behavior. Mysterious would be the term he’d use to describe the enigma that was Hailey Anne Upton (he’d peaked at Will’s chart for a second, sue him). But, her smile? Gorgeous. Yeah, that was the one.

He almost contemplated asking her about herself, so he could get to know the woman wrapped up in so many proverbial layers. But, her voice cracked through his illusion. “This is me right here.”

Jay was pulled up to the curb of a quaint apartment complex, with a few units, he assumed on either side, even though he only saw the front. The white building’s homes each had their own bright orange doors, which he found funny given the classic white paint job.

Then he noticed the orange tiled letters and numbers that made up the street address of the complex. 185 Vinton Street. They were – you guessed it – bright orange. He frowned, not out of sadness, but out of…oddness? He couldn’t quite pinpoint the emotion. He was just….observing things. Like the way Hailey idled in the passenger seat for a few moments while he had gotten out.

“You alright?”

He tapped lightly on her window. She pointed down to the lock, and he could’ve – and should’ve – smacked himself silly for not unlocking it. Nice going moron. He grimaced, hoping his eyes conveyed a sheepish apology as he rectified the error. Her lips had twisted into a semi smile as she got out. She seemed to be smiling at herself, but she looked at him before looking back down to her feet.

“Um, thanks for the ride back. And I am sorry about falling asleep last night. Or should I say this morning.”

Jay leaned against his truck. “That’s okay, really. You needed some rest. Not many people see things like that. I mean, I do, but that’s because it’s my job. You’re…I mean, I don’t know much about you, but like you said – you’re a future psychologist – you’re not a cop.”

Hailey pulled her bottom lip inbetween her teeth. “Yeah, right.” She paused for a second, before asking: “Is that the last thing we talked about?”

“Um, no. No, the last thing we talked about, or should I say, I was talking to you about, was: golf. Which I found ironic that you fell asleep during the middle of the conversation, as you had just got done saying how you loved it, despite your roommate Vanessa making fun of you for it.”

Hailey shook her head as she walked to stand across from him, so she could lean her shoulder against his truck too. “Gotcha. Well, if you’d like, we can finish that conversation? I have coffee inside,” she offered, mentally smacking herself for how lame that invite was.

“Uh, sure, that is if you don’t mind. I could use some coffee right now.”

Hailey motioned for Jay to follow her up, and they entered her apartment. She thanked the lord that she was the neater between herself and Vanessa, so their apartment wasn’t a total disaster area. Vanessa’s room, however, was a completely different story. But that was partially because her boyfriend Kevin would sometimes stay over, and his stuff was left there too.

Hailey had told Vanessa she could always move in with Kevin, or find a place of her own, but she insisted that she and Hailey would be roommates until both of them had boyfriends. Hailey rolled her eyes at that ridiculous rule, but was secretly glad. She loved having Vanessa around.

“Welcome,” she said, raising her arms out as if to display the small space to him. “Um, you can sit wherever. I’ve just gotta change my clothes real quick, then I’ll put a pot on.”

Jay was admiring the photos that littered their living room area. Vanessa and Hailey had both taken photography as one of their electives, so black and white photos from a class project decorated their place.

He turned his head toward her as she spoke though. “Okay, thanks.”

Hailey quickly nodded before hurrying back to her room to throw something other than her jogging sweats and hoodie on. Sometimes she’d wear old clothes if she was going to be working in the back of the bakery, because flour + nice clothes = total mess.

She pulled on some jeans and a plain white tee shirt that she tucked in, before tossing her hair into a messy ponytail. Better, she thought to herself as she looked in the mirror.

She walked back out to see Jay camped out on her couch. The kicker? Now he was the one asleep. She literally had to bite her tongue to keep from bursting out in laughter. It was cute, seeing him all nestled up like he’d meant to do that all along or something. His elbow propped his head up a little against his hand, and the lower half of his legs were hanging off the edge. She was honestly surprised he didn’t take up the whole couch, given that he had to be at least 6 feet tall.

Vanessa’s boyfriend Kevin, after all, was like 6’4. That was pretty much all she knew about Kevin though, as she’d only seen him in passing. Thankfully, he’d been clothed, as had Vanessa, or else Hailey would’ve had to move out for sure. Vanessa had joked to her one night after Kevin dipped out that there’d be a day where Hailey would be the one sneaking a boy back to their apartment. Hailey had rolled her eyes, and told Vanessa to keep dreaming. But now, as she watched the slow rise and fall of Jay’s chest against his light grey fitted shirt and unzipped jacket, she realized she did in fact, have a boy over.

She let out a puff of air, feeling silly for just standing there like a moron. She didn’t know if she should wake him or not. She didn’t know what times cops had to be at work. All she knew was she didn’t have to be at work until noon, and it was only….she looked across the way to her microwave clock. 7AM. Cool, cool. She ran a hand through her hair again, before deciding to brew the coffee she’d promised him. Hey, even if he was asleep, didn’t mean Hailey didn’t need the coffee just as much as Jay did.

So, she bounded over to her kitchenette and put on some coffee. She leaned against the counter, pulling her phone out to check her messages.

One from Vanessa, which read: SORRY I COULDNT COME GET U THIS AM. DID U MAKE IT HOME OK??

Hailey typed a response. YES I DID, V. DONT WORRY.

She watched the three bubbles pop up on her screen. K. AND UR OKAY RIGHT?

YES :) TALK TO YOU LATER VANESSA.

She flipped her phone off before going to fix herself something to eat. Her grumbling stomach gave her hunger away. She was making eggs and bacon when she heard a mumble from her sofa. She’d honestly forgot Jay was there, he was that quiet.

“Mmm,” she thinks he “said.”

“It’s okay Jay, this time you were the one that fell asleep,” Hailey called over her shoulder. “I knew you’d wake up sometime though, so I figured you deserved some rest too.”

She was plating a portion of food for herself when she saw him emerge from the couch. He was headed for the coffee, but hey, the rest of her food wasn’t going to eat itself. “And you’re welcome to the rest of the food there,” she offered as casually as she could as she sat down.

Jay had been filling up a coffee mug when he turned his head up to look at her from across the way. “Oh, no, that’s okay, Hailey. I–“

“Seriously, Jay. I don’t mind. Besides, it’s the least I can do after falling asleep on you–“ she felt her cheeks heat up at the only semi-innocent implication that created. “–I mean, y’know, during our conversation, not to mention you taking me– giving me a ride home.”

Jay set down his cup, but he didn’t argue. He grabbed some food and made his way over to where she was sitting. They sat in silence for a few minutes, simply drinking their coffee and eating their food.

Hailey was the first one that spoke. “So, what exactly were we talking about when we were talking golf?”

“Ummm,” Jay mumbled as he finished a bite of eggs. “I think we were onto what is better: a club or a putter for a shorthand shot on the green.”

They answered simultaneously: “putter.” They smiled at each other.

“Huh, I never thought I’d meet another golf aficionado,” Hailey said as she bit into a piece of bacon.

Jay shook his head as he swallowed another bit of coffee. “Neither did I. I mean, my brother and I golfed sometimes…before he went off to med school and I joined the service. But, since then, neither of us have really had the time for it.”

Hailey pouted. “Aw, well that’s no fun. I think everyone should have something that they enjoy in their day. Like for me, it’s photography. Well, I really like still life’s. My roommate, Vanessa, she likes the live-action type of shots. But me? I like capturing a single, seemingly minute, moment of time.”

She realized she’d completely glossed over possibly the most important part of what Jay told her. Nice work, Hailey. “So, you were in the military?”

“Yep. Rangers, 75th Battalion.”

“Wow,” she mused, very impressed. She’d never known someone in the military before. Her older brother Andy almost joined the Navy, but it was only his backup plan if he didn’t make it into law school. But, when he got in to Harvard Law, he couldn’t pass it up. “That’s incredible. I, well, I mean, thank you,” her foot should’ve met her mouth a few words ago when she saw his eyebrows raise. “Thank you for your service.” She clarified, hoping her face was not as red as a tomato right now, or else she could just die of embarrassment.

Her pinky graced her cheek as she ran a hand through her hair once more. Nope, all good. Phew.

“Thanks,” he said gently. “Most people want war stories, or dangerous tales because they think it’s like it is in the movies.”

Hailey frowned. She was no movie buff, but even she knew nothing was like it was on TV or film. No way. She knew that after she watched her first princess movie. A prince would sweep the girl off her feet and away from danger. But, no one came to save her from her own hell. So, she’d given up on the whole idea of fairytales; honestly, she’d given up on the idea that life was going to give her anything. That’s why she worked damn hard to get where she was.

“Oh, no, I can’t imagine what it must’ve been like over there for you. I know what that kind of impact veterans can have when they come back from war. It’s a lot.”

Jay nodded, actually feeling thankful that someone understood that. “Exactly.”

Hailey offered him a smile, but he could tell it was tinged with sadness. Or maybe like she had something to share too.

“So, what about you? I mean, as I’m sure you guessed, I jumped from the army to the police, but what made you want to become a psychologist?”

“Um,” Hailey did her same nervous habit of running her hand through her hair. Shit, well that she wasn’t expecting. Most people liked to talk about themselves, or didn’t care to hear about psychology, of all things. Guys, Hailey, not people. She and Vanessa could talk classwork all day.

“I’ve just always been interested in helping people. And I’ve always been good at reading people, I guess. Like how they act, or interact with other people. People always think that their eyes or their lips give away what their intentions are, but actually, it’s their body language.”

Jay’s head tilted. “Is that right?”

Hailey vehemently nodded her head. “Yessir.”

Jay narrowed his eyes slightly. “Well then, Dr. Upton, what am I saying? Or what are you getting from me?” A small smirk played on his lips, and Hailey had yet another moronic thought of wanting to kiss it off of him.

She tilted her head a bit too, as her eyes studied him. One of her brows arched as she noticed his movement underneath her gaze. She clicked her tongue against her cheek.

“Well,” she began, unfolding her hands. “You’re sitting straight up, which indicates a polite demeanor. You’re holding eye contact, which means you’re not afraid of the truth. Your hands underneath your legs show that you’re carrying something, or have a lot on your mind or on your plate, as they say.” She debated on throwing him a bone with the last one. “And your feet are pointed at me while we’re talking, which means you’re genuinely interested in what I have to say.”

She could help but break into a grin when he did. “I appreciate it, by the way.”

He had opened his mouth to say something in return, when their moment was interrupted by the sound of a phone. Hailey had hers on vibrate in her pocket, so she knew it wasn’t hers, as this was an actual ring. “I think that’s you,” she said to Jay.

“Oh,” he mumbled, fumbling for it in his pocket. “Sorry. It’s work.”

She flitted her hand off, indicating that he could take the call. She busied herself by taking their plates and mugs to her sink, washing them off, and placing them on her drying rack. She’d just begun to turn around when she almost ran smack into Jay. Not that she would’ve minded…that much. She was 99.9% sure he was perfect, in every way. From the way his shirt pulled across his pecs, to the way his broad shoulders took up a doorway, but weren’t overpowering in the least.

“Uh,” she awkwardly sputtered. She really needed a new vocabulary. “Sorry,” she squeaked, not daring to look up into his green eyes. They were standing so close together that she felt his breath hit her cheek though. And that was about all she could handle right now, without her legs giving way, that is. Hell, she even held onto her counter for support. Subtly, of course.

“I, sorry. I have to go. My sergeant said we got pod footage of the guy that killed Crawford.” He was about to break apart from her, when Hailey heard a sharp intake of air. “Actually, um, we might need you down at the district.” He finally said. His voice was so smooth and low it reminded Hailey of rich milk chocolate, and she felt like she needed to sit down before she either A) kissed him or B) grabbed a giant Hershey bar from her secret stash.

“Oh, okay,” she replied stupidly. Duh, Hailey, major duh. “So I guess I’m riding yo– I mean, riding with you.” Yep, if she could melt into a puddle on the floor, right then would’ve been the perfect time to do it.

“Looks like it,” he said as he finally put some distance between them.

Hailey oddly felt at ease with that. She just hoped she’d still feel that way once she was there.

___________________________________________________________

TAGGING: @ruzek-halstead (requested) um, let me know somehow if anyone else wants to be tagged? i’ve never done tagging on my fics before lol. hope you like this second part. part 3 will be the last installment. but it’ll be good, don’t worry! ;)

#upstead au #upstead fanfiction #upstead fanfic #part 2 #just friends?#more than friends #hailey x jay #jay x hailey #halstead brothers #cpd fanfic #chicago pd fanfiction #my writing #lemme know what you think!

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sergeant-angels-trashcan · 3 years

Note

for the otp game gimme the og pairing, kate and Matt Murdock c'mon u kno u want to

Getting back to my ROOTS love it

1. What was their first impression of each other?

“WHOMST this garbage can?” with a side of “oh no he’s hot” for Kate like, okay, it was more of a “oh you’re a COMPETENT garbage can” but still, a garbage can.

2. What is their ship name?

Mattkate? amongst my various playlists and document names they are also “feathers and horns” and “evil eyes and daring dodos” “

3. Describe their relationship dynamic.

garbage just kidding. in a lot of ways they are opposites attracting--Kate is good with big plans but has trouble with details while Matt is ALL about details. Kate is a contingency planner, while Matt is more impulsive--at least when fighting crime. Kate has a LOT more practical experience than Matt does. That’s flipped in their romantic relationship--Matt’s more likely to slow play something or be cautious while Kate has a “ah fuck it” mentality. Go for broke, fix the damage later

4. What was their relationship like before they got together?

pftpfpfpf antagonistic but in a dumb way, like, both of them constantly spiritually eyerolling at each other but also secretly impressed with the other’s skill. they were weirdly touchy-feely with each other early on in their friendship, due to checking on each other’s injuries, etc (weird for them, not weird touching)

5. How would they describe each other?

they both think the other is reckless which all of their friends would think was hilarious if they all also didn’t have a stash of bloodstained towels that are Matt and Kate’s fault

Matt thinks Kate is one of the strongest people he’s ever met, and she’s...not forgiving, exactly, but always willing to give people a chance. he also thinks she’s really funny.

Kate describes Matt as simultaneously the smartest person she’s ever met and the dumbest person she knows. He’s brave, selfless to a fault, and has a “look at all the fucks i give” mentality that she really admires

6. What do they love about each other?

Matt loves Kate’s determination and her steadfastness. In a lot of ways, she’s easily distractible, terrible with time, but if she says she’s there for you, she’s there, no matter what. She’s also not afraid to tangle with powerful people, so the have that in common,

Kate loves Matt’s “Stick it to the man” attitude, how deeply he cares for his friends, and that he’s normal, mostly, but saw a problem and decided to do something about it.

7. What do they have in common?

concussions

also looking at people they have no business tangling with and fucking with them anyway.

8. What are some differences between them?

Kate is very aware that she’s human. This is something she’s aware of in fights and forgets after, so she’s bad at taking care of herself.

Matt knows he’s human and ignores this fact during fights but is VERY aware of after. So he makes sure Kate takes care of herself.

Matt also angsts a lot more than Kate about the morality and legality of vigilantism, whereas Kate’s been doing this since before she could vote so she’s kind of over it. Matt also has a lot more doubt over being a superhero and Kate’s all in.

9. What made them realize they were in love?

they’ve lowkey been in love for most of their relationship, honestly, so for both of them it was a lot of little things building up over time. One morning Kate was tying Matt’s tie for court and he had a split lip--he was going over his opening statement, drumming his fingers on her hips and she just went ah. that’s what this feeling is. it wasn’t like, a startling revelation, just something that settled back in her gut, something that was always there.

Matt realized he loved Kate, like, truly madly deeply, one day listening to her snoring in the vents between his office and hers. Looking back, though, he thinks he first started falling in love with her when she threatened to get into a physical altercation with Stick

10. What are their love languages?

cuddling. they’re SUPER physically affectionate. or not even affection, just touching to check in on each other.

they also bandage each other’s wounds

11. Do they get married? Who proposes and how?

i know nobody will believe me but I DON’T KNOW!!!! Because Kate doesn’t see the point but Good Catholic Boy Matt MUST GET MARRIED. Matt probably resigns himself to them never getting married and then Kate proposes to him after some fancy event--basically her in a full length evening gown on one knee (that pops very loudly) and Foggy whooping in the background.

That, or one of them is hospitalized and there’s some Shenanigans with letting the other in and Matt’s like “never again. we’re getting married,” and Kate’s like “fine but we’re using my insurance” (while she’s hooked up to an IV and oxygen)

it’s the least romantic thing ever but both of them think it’s PEAK romance and get very sappy and emotional about it. Sister Maggie is over the moon. Father Latte is stoked. They are completely unaware of the fact that Kate actually has to be convinced to have a Cathoic-ish wedding, and that Clint is very upset he’s not allowed to perform the ceremony

Kate’s dress is fabrics Matt likes to listen to against her skin. Matt wears a burgundy tux with an arrow tie bar.

12. What would happen if they never met? Matt’s life is the show, Kate probably winds up back in California. I hate to be like “Matt dies young” but that’s what happens, folks.

13. Who dies first? How does the other one react? this isn’t real life. fuck death. also, considering Matt has been missing, assumed dead, i can say Kate reacts Not Well, takes down a drug smuggling ring, becomes invested in Frank Castle as a human person, (re)joins SHIELD, and teaches Karen self-defense (seriously, it’s like...a whole thing I started writing)

14. Are there any love rivals? Frank Castle, Elektra Natchios, and movie!Matt. Two of those have polyamory potential. one is just getting his ass kicked

15. Describe your favorite moment of that ship!

their UST cuddle sessions. where they’re like “we’re not cuddling” but they TOTALLY are

16. What do other characters think about this relationship?

mostly varying shades of “oh my god, they’re gonna die”. Most of their friends think it’s cute--Frank Castle doesn’t get it at all, Foggy sometimes wonders if Kate is a bad influence. Father Latte LOVES them together, can’t wait to marry them. Clint doesn’t think Matt’s good enough for Kate, but that’s pretty typical.

17.Describe or write a really fluffy scene!

this is a post-midland scene where father latte yoinks Kate into the church

Sister Maggie glares and bitches—who knew nuns bitched?--but the other bed gets pushed up against Matt’s. Kate’s not entirely certain what Sister Maggie thinks is going to happen—Matt’s clearly not in any position to do much more than sleep and moan in misery—but the nun’s eyes soften a bit when she sees Matt’s hand still clasped between Kate’s.

“I’m not leaving him,” Kate repeats, aware that she’s starting to sound like a petulant child and not much caring.

It’s done, though, and Kate lays on her side, facing Matt and still holding his hand like it’s a lifeline. Exhaustion settles around her like a heavy blanket and Kate fights through it to wriggle just a little bit closer to Matt, close enough to press her forehead against his arm, remembering other times they’d slept like this that seem so long ago.

…

Matt doesn’t wake so much as he slowly drifts toward consciousness. There’s something different about it this time, something he can’t quite remember that makes him anxious and excited all at once.

Someone is holding his hand, something is warm all along his side, and even though his hearing is muffled, Matt can hear someone crying out.

He breaks the surface and gasps for air.

So much pain, his leg feels like it’s on fire and his skull feels two sizes too small and his ribs crackle with pain every time he breathes.

But something--

Someone is holding his hand, hugging his arm and he can’t smell or hear or taste but the calluses and the scars are familiar and Matt's heart leaps into his throat.

“Kate,” he croaks, squeezing at her hand while tugging at her arm. “Kate, it’s nightmare, wake up.”

Matt can’t even count on one hand the number of times that method of waking Kate up has worked, mostly because it never has, but this time, someone’s looking out for them because it does.

Kate jerks upright, her breath coming in sharp pants that echo in the silence, loud enough that even Matt can hear. Her hand tightens around his as she catches her breath, gulping in enough air to make a sad, heartbreaking little noise. “It’s real, you’re alive?”

Matt doesn’t respond because he’s using what little energy he has to reach for her with his free hand, his fingertips clumsily bumping against her cheek.

She makes that sad little noise again, one that Matt knows would rip right through him if he wasn’t already in excruciating pain.

She’s leaning over him, then, the tips of her hair brushing against his bare skin before she’s raining kisses on his face, light, gentle, sweet kisses.

This is familiar, Matt thinks, feeling like this might have happened a few hours earlier, before someone changed the room so she could lay down next to him.

He doesn’t know how to comfort her. Before—this, before everything, he would have listened to her heartbeat before deciding if he should ask her if she wanted pressure or space. And he would have either scooted to the far edge of the bed, or he would have rolled on top of her, setting his weight on her to keep her grounded and present.

18. Describe or write a really angsty scene!

sooo uhhh not strictly mattkate but from a wip where Matt doesn’t let Kate know he survived the explosion at midland and Kate stumbles into the punisher season 1 storyline uhhh i have nothing to say for myself

“He left me.”

“What?” Frank’s thunderous gaze is fixed on Kate now, and she falters under it.

“Matt. He, um. When he. At Midland,” she stumbles through the thought and Frank softens. “he didn’t just—I don’t know what Karen told you—he didn’t just die—he--he stayed. Her name was Elektra.” Kate takes a deep breath and it’s like she’s rehearsed this, how she would say it and the words come too easy.

“She was he ex-girlfriend, former love, from college. She came back into his life about the same time we met you. And it was rough, you know? They still had feelings for each other, but he picked me—or maybe he didn’t, maybe it was because she died and that made the choice for him. There’s a lot of magic bullshit in this story,” Kate answers Frank’s unspoken question. “And it was magic bullshit that brought her back to life, only not quite right. Not quite human. She’s who they were fighting at Midland.” Her eyes prickle hot with tears as she says the worst part, the part her mind worries like a dog with a bone when she can’t sleep at night. “He chose. To, to not let Elektra die alone, he chose her over me. He decided that life with me was worse than death with her,” and there it is, the whole ugly, painful truth, I wasn’t enough, it was Elektra all along, and it burns the back of her throat, it constricts her chest. The tears burn tracks down her cheeks, cooling along her jaw. “I hate him. He made me believe—I thought what we had was real. I thought he loved me--”

Her voice breaks on a sob she can no longer contain, and all at once Frank surrounds her, his arms crushing her to his chest, his gentle shushing ruffling her hair. “Hey there, sweetheart, hey, it’s all right. He loved you, anyone could see that. He could have gotten trapped, could have gotten hit in the head, we don’t know.” His hands drag up and down her spine. “I’m right here, sweetheart, it’s okay.”

19. Talk about a headcanon you’ve never talked about before. so it’s not exactly MattKate but Kate was married to America, once, in space, and they just...forgot to get divorced after they broke up. So there’s a whole thing with the three of them that involves Matt and America becoming really good friends--I mean, they both like punching stuff, that’s a solid basis for a friendship, right? And they get lunch every few months and Kate’s just like “why is my ex-wife texting you” and, of course, the “Kate and Elektra dated” headcanon, which dovetails really nicely with Matt/Kate/Elektra ot3. Kate and Elektra just sprawled on Matt’s couch asking him to bring them food because they’re heiresses they’re too pretty to get things themselves

20. What does a typical date look like for them?

Kate trying to keep Matt from listening for crime. Kate grilling Matt about the kitchen, Kate guessing the relationships of the other diners and Matt telling her if she’s right or wrong. Stopping a mugging on the way home and making out in an alley.

21. What’s a really significant moment in their relationship?

WHOOPS MISSED THIS, but it’s the first time they take Fisk down. it was them working as a team, recognizing their romantic feelings, just. all around a good day. it’s an anniversary they celebrate every year

#Anonymous #mattkate #matt murdock #kate bishop #hawkeye #Daredevil #my stuff #ask meme answers #give me more this was fun #if it's a ship i've written for i'll probably post some stuff i've already written #also what the hell is happening with the formatting what did i do

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nesta-stan · 4 years

Text

Feyre signaling Nesta that she doesn’t want her apart of her life than she is mad when Nesta doesn’t want to be apart of her life

I feel like a lot of people don’t really try to understand Nesta’s perception of certain situations and her rational. WE know that Feyre loves and wants to spend time with her sister but Feyre doesn’t realize the signals she has given to nesta that say otherwise. Here I am going through how Nesta perceives things and her rational. If you just want to know my main points you can skip to the conclusion. I also put in a theory on how their relationship could evolve in the next book.

I will start with a quote from the first book.

“I thought all you wanted was for us to get out of the house-to marry off me and Elain so you can have enough time to paint your glorious masterpieces.” -Nesta

I use this quote because its from Nesta so we get some insights on what her perception of the situation is which is that Feyre doesn’t actually want her around which Feyre confirms.

“Believe me, the day you want to marry someone worthy, I’ll march up to his house and hand you over.” -Feyre

Feyre never rescinded these comments and by the way Nesta talks about it seemed like it had been common knowledge to her for awhile. Feyre’s pushy behavior in trying to get her sister’s to hook up with Cassian and Lucien, to Nesta, because of this could be interpreted as Feyre trying to get rid of her instead of Feyre wanting them to find the same happiness she found with her mate. I think that all of people forget that in the cabin Feyre didn’t have the caring and compassionate attitude towards her sisters she does now. She loved them and cared for them but not emotionally. Feyre even says

“Some days, I couldn’t tell which of us was the most wretched and bitter”

Which shows that Feyre already had a pattern of aggression toward her sister as well. Maybe now it is different, but they had a pre-established dynamic that wasn’t just one sided. The story is just told through Feyre’s pov so we just know about how Nesta’s words hurt Feyre’s feelings not the other way around.

One thing that got me upset when I first read Acomaf was the regression of Feyre and Nesta’s relationship. By the end of Acotar not only had Nesta gone to the border to look for her sister but they seemed to deepen their bond by having open conversation and engaging in recreational activities together like Feyre teaching Nesta how to paint but when we get to acomaf Nesta is back to being her bitter self.

Then I realized, there are 8 MONTHS in between when feyre left and returned to see Nesta again. EIGHT MONTHS without a letter or a visit. Granted three of those were when she was stuck with Amerantha but during this time Nesta doesn’t know about that. Plus, that still leaves 6 MONTHS unaccounted for. When Feyre does come back it’s not to connect with her sisters, check up on them, see how they are doing, or even tell them what she has been doing. She only comes back to ask a favor of them. WE know through Feyre’s Pov that her about her depression and her reasonings for not contacting them but Nesta doesn’t. Knowing that Feyre vocally confirmed to Nesta at one point that she didn’t want her in her life it is fair to assume that Nesta thought that was the reason she didn’t try to contact her for HALF A YEAR because Feyre hasn’t really given her clues to believe otherwise. Considering this time gap Nesta’s revitalized bitterness towards her makes sense.

Some people called Nesta a hypocrite when she was hurt by her lack of presence in Feyre’s house in acofas but in reality Nesta would not have been back in Feyre’s life if it wasn’t for the cauldron.

When Feyre goes to ask why Nesta didn’t come to dinner she says

“Elain wanted you there.” I wanted you there. Nesta shrugged. “She could have eaten with me here.” “You know Elain wouldn’t feel comfortable in a place like this.”

She never verbally expresses her desire to actually have a relationship with nesta. Nesta is even bating her to say it with her comment about Elain but instead of just telling her ‘I want you to be apart this with us’ it passes straight over Feyre’s head.

“What will it take for you to come?” “For Elains sake or yours?” “Both” Another snort... “So you’re bribing me then?” I didn’t flinch. “I’m seeing if you are willing to be reasoned with. If there is a way to make it worth your while.”... “It’s not even our holiday. We don’t have holidays.”...”As I told Elain: you have your live lives, and I have mine.” Again, I cast a pointed glance to the tavern. “Why? WHy this instance on distancing yourself?” She settled back in her seat crossing her arms. “Why do I have to be a part of your merry little band?” “Because you’re my sister.”

-Acofas 116-118 (feel free to say if you feel like I cut out something important)

What Nesta is trying to establish is here is a boundary between her sisters and the inner circle. Personally, I understand this. Me and my own sister are only a year apart, we are close but we have no where near the same friend group and we both have friends from spanning back to elementary school. Which is why I find it so odd that Feyre almost demands that Feyre be a part of her group because she is her sister. Feyre pushes Nesta decide on whether she wants to stay alone or be a part of a group of people who for the most part don’t like her. Whether you think they are justified in disliking Nesta doesn’t change the fact that is what the situation is. In the excerpt at the end where it is stated

“so many of them portraits and depictions of them- her friends, her new family”

Again with the separation with the inner circle and Nesta. Nesta sees herself as being a part of Feyre’s old family. Which is suggestive that she feels discarded. Feyre gets upset that Nesta never wants to take the time to visit her but then she never takes the time to visit Nesta. Feyre uses the excuse that she doesn’t like hanging around Nesta’s favorite places to spend time but then never considers that nesta doesn’t like to spend time at her places.

“She could barely stand to hear the crack and pop of the wood. Had barely been able to endure it in Feyre’s town house”

“Feyre told her during her first and only tour two months ago. She’d been half drunk at the time, and hated every second of it, every perfect happy room.”

The thing is, Feyre’s two homes are her safe spaces. Spaces for her and her family. She sees how open the rest of the inner circle sees them as second homes and expects it to be the same for Nesta but it isn’t and she doesn’t realize that. The inner circle finds Nesta’s apartment distasteful and just refuse to wrap their heads around why she would want to stay there but for her, I am going to let the quote say it

“This was her place. No servants, no eyes monitoring and judging every move, no company”

It honestly makes me sad that they refuse to recognize Nesta’s apartment as her safe space and are taking it away from her like its nothing.

Now let’s talk about Rhysand. This plays into the divide between the inner circle and Nesta. This is a quote from earlier in the tavern scene

“Is that mate of yours going to stand in the cold all night? I blinked, wondering if she’d somehow sensed the thoughts between us. “Who says he’s here?” Nesta snorted. “Where one goes, the other fallows.”

and now here is a quote from the excerpt.

They were pity offerings, some attempt to get her to be a part of their life, to be gainfully occupied. Done not because Rhysand particularly like her- and their conversations were coldly civil at best.

Here we can see that Nesta has no desire to have any type of save face friendship with Rhysand but Feyre practically forces them onto each other. With the former quote above this one it can be assumed that Feyre hasn’t taken the time to have a conversation without Rhysand. Hell, the one they did have alone in Acofas was being live broadcasted to him and Nesta knew it. It makes sense she would be uncomfortable talking to her sister openly if she knows all their conversations are either being spied on or relayed to someone who she knows dislikes her. Again. whether you think he is justified doesn’t change the fact that he dislikes her. This is about Nesta’s perception.

Conclusion

Nesta and Feyre both have somewhat of a desire to have a relationship with each other but through Nesta’s perspective we see that Feyre has a history of discarding or trying to discard Nesta from her life and any attempts feyre makes to build a relationship with her can only be done on the condition that Nesta join a group of people who do not like her, borderline hate her, and that she can never meet Feyre on her own ground. Nesta must always tolerate the uncomfortable atmosphere she finds in Feyre’s safe space without ever expecting Feyre to inturn do the same. This is why she has in turn chosen to simply isolate herself from the situation. It is not because she doesn’t want to be a member of Feyre’s family, but that to do that Feyre has unintentionally made it so to be apart of her family Nesta in turn would have to be a part of Cassian’s, Amren’s, Mor’s, Azriel’s, and Rhysand’s family too. Plus, Feyre has been shown to be unreliable and illusive in her desire to have a relationship with Feyre.

I believe that these two sister do have the potential of building a close bond but Feyre needs to work on building boundaries between her relationship between the inner circle and her relationship with Nesta. Feyre doesn’t have to choose one or the other. She just needs to learn how to make time for both separately. She also needs to be consistent and open with her sister. Feyre needs to be open and honest with Nesta about her feeling and about how hurt she was.

I am not saying that Nesta doesn’t have her flaws or that she won’t equally have to put in the work to mend their relationship but implying that through Feyre contributes the current state of their relationship just as much.

Theory about Nesta and Feyra in the next book

I can’t say for certain if this will happen but I recently saw a post saying how the next book might be a Snow Queen retelling. I reblogged it and responded with the different possibilities that opens with the next novel. If you don’t know the story Kay (pronounced Kai) and Gerda are best childhood friends. At first I thought Nesta would get the role of Kay and Cassian the role of Gerda because it’s there love story but after looking over it I believe the role of Gerda will be split between all the people who love Nesta and want to save her from herself. Especially because frozen is about to sisters and that is based of the Snow queen as well. I also see SJM taking elements from the 2002 movie. The orginal story goes, when Kay is hit with the broken pieces from a cursed mirror in eyes and heart over the course of a year he becomes cold and cruel to his childhood friend. After an adventure to find him after he is kidnapped, Gerda looking almost dead. She fixes him by melting away the shards of glass in his heart with her tears. When they arrive home at last they realize that on the course of their journey they have grown from children to adults. Here are some quotes from that story that could relate to Nesta and her relationship with Feyre.

people said, “That boy will be very clever; he has a remarkable genius.” But it was the piece of glass in his eye, and the coldness in his heart, that made him act like this. He would even tease little Gerda, who loved him with all her heart.

Little Kay was quite blue with cold, indeed almost black, but he did not feel it; for the Snow Queen had kissed away the icy shiverings, and his heart was already a lump of ice. He dragged some sharp, flat pieces of ice to and fro, and placed them together in all kinds of positions, as if he wished to make something out of them; just as we try to form various figures with little tablets of wood which we call “a Chinese puzzle.” Kay’s fingers were very artistic; it was the icy game of reason at which he played, and in his eyes the figures were very remarkable, and of the highest importance; this opinion was owing to the piece of glass still sticking in his eye. He composed many complete figures, forming different words, but there was one word he never could manage to form, although he wished it very much. It was the word “Eternity.” The Snow Queen had said to him, “When you can find out this, you shall be your own master, and I will give you the whole world and a new pair of skates.” But he could not accomplish it.

Then little Gerda wept hot tears, which fell on his breast, and penetrated into his heart, and thawed the lump of ice, and washed away the little piece of glass which had stuck there.

Then Kay burst into tears, and he wept so that the splinter of glass swam out of his eye. Then he recognized Gerda, and said, joyfully, “Gerda, dear little Gerda, where have you been all this time, and where have I been?” And he looked all around him, and said, “How cold it is, and how large and empty it all looks,” and he clung to Gerda, and she laughed and wept for joy. It was so pleasing to see them that the pieces of ice even danced about; and when they were tired and went to lie down, they formed themselves into the letters of the word which the Snow Queen had said he must find out before he could be his own master, and have the whole world and a pair of new skates. Then Gerda kissed his cheeks, and they became blooming; and she kissed his eyes, and they shone like her own; she kissed his hands and his feet, and then he became quite healthy and cheerful.

I don’t think the next book will be as literal is this but I do hope Feyre is going to truly open up to Nesta about all her feeling and about how much she truly cares for her sister and she will “Melt her heart of ice”.

I have a lot more theories about how the snow queen stories will play into Nesta’s story in the next book but here are just my thoughts about Nesta and Feyre’s relationship.

#nesta #nesta archeron #acofas #acotar #acowar #acomaf #a court of frost and starlight #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #a court of thorns and roses #Feyre #feyre archeron #feyre acotar #rhysand #rhys #cassian #snow queen

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caffeinetheory · 4 years

Note

Congrats on 200!! Fake dating au Daminette please?

Thank you so much :>

I hope this came out well, I wasn’t sure where to go with this... without further Adieu

///

Why damian was picked to go to Paris to asses the situation he wouldn’t know, and no Grayson he doesn’t need more human interaction he’s perfectly happy with what he has. ‘This Marientte girl better be worth his time’ was all he could think as he entered the bakery he was told he could find his contact. Why a simple civilian would baffle him but he didn’t make those kinds of choices.

He was greeted by a short woman with grey eyes, not his contact, and a warm smile. “How may I help you today monsieur?” thank god Damian had brushed up on his French before walking into the bakery, “Earl Grey and a chocolate croissant?” he asked, the crash in the back taking most of his attention. “Of course monsieur,” he just placed some money on the counter and sat down at a small table to wait for his order. ‘This was the right place right?’ he checked the address Dick had sent him, it was… now where was she?

A cup of tea was placed in front of him, bringing him out of his thoughts, “I believe this is yours,” the girl around his age said in near perfect English, though accented it was clear. She handed him a small slip of paper with the code word he was told to look out for and winked as she went back to the back to help in the back. It also had a number Damain assumed was hers and a place to meet later. ‘At least she knows subtly,’ he finished his food and left to get ready and to tell Dick he had made contact.

Damian was early, but there he stood at the base of the Eiffel Tower, she should be there soon. And as luck would have it there she was walking up in a different outfit. Light blue overalls with a baby pink crop top underneath and simple vans, casual attire that wouldn't look out of place, so she was smart. His black jeans, a t-shirt and high tops didn't feel under dressed anymore.

“So I assume you’re the ‘little bird’ Nightwing was so happy to talk about,” there was amusement in her tone as she spoke in English. ‘Didn’t she know I know French perfectly fine’ “Perhaps, are you the one I’m supposed to be spending my time with?” “Oh god don’t tell me he was serious about fake dating, I swear to god…” she was starting to ramble ‘So that was Dick’s idea who was he kidding of course it was, human interaction my ass’ “I’ll be in your class by next week,” Damian cut her off on whatever she was rambling about, “We should get our story straight.” “True true,” she lead him to a small secluded area off of the Seine so they could talk more freely.

The story they came up with was they met at a gala and had hit it off despite the odds. Believable because Mari was the kind of person to make friends with almost anyone, she also told him to use English around her if he wanted a minimal chance for people to follow what they were saying. He came to do the exchange program to broaden his horizons and the fact his new girlfriend was there was a plus, believable knowing his family. She also warned him about her class and a liar, ‘lovely’ was all he could think, more social climbers.

The weekend before Damian joined the class he couldn't figure out how this petite girl one had contacted the League and two why she was trusted by the heroes of this city, she looked like hard a breeze would hurt her. Okay that might be an exaggeration but still! She didn’t look like she could hold her own against anything, so why her? That was something he’d get his answer in due time, walking in on something he wasn’t meant to know.

Damian insisted on taking her to school on Monday, as a way to show that she was his and so he didn’t need to ask where the class was. Not that he would admit the second part. Damian took her hand as they left the bakery, and they made idle small talk on the short walk to the school. When a black limo pulled up Mari seemed to perk up, something to keep of note. A blonde boy with light green eyes walked out and instantly lit up upon seeing Mari. she was quick to let go of Damian and whisper something into the blonde’s ear and hug him nodding her head slightly back to Damian’s direction, interesting.

Damain had spent the rest of the day close to Mari but otherwise not paying attention, he already knew everything that they were teaching, this was a waste of his time. Sitting in the back with his ‘girlfriend’ at least let him avoid the looks of the class and watch their behavior. Only three people of note in the whole class. Mari by his side (she also seemed to pay little attention but had well done notes that seemed ahead of the class), the blonde boy for earlier who he learned rather quickly was Adrien Agreste (seemed to also be way too ahead for this class and to share something secret with Mari, he’d need to look into that later) and lastly the Rossi girl. She was not the good interesting though, lies were constantly coming from her mouth to the point he found it hard to believe anyone could take what she was saying seriously. Damain assumed Mari was over exaggeration when she warned him.

That was routine for about a month: go to class with Mari, be bored out of his mind, hide from the Akumas of the week, then go to her place to get more info. The occasional “date” to a coffee shop or walk in the park. Nothing out there but so it was clear they were dating, constantly holding hands, conversations in English and small gifts. Most of the class had left him alone after it was clear he was with Mari, “If he’s willing to date a jealous girl like Mari he wasn’t worth their time” was the general consensus of the class, he’d gladly take it.

It wasn’t until he had wandered from the library to what he assumed was an empty training room on the school grounds. The sounds of rapid fire French and fighting made him curious, it wasn’t an Akuma, there hadn’t been an alert so what could it be?

To say being Agreste and his fake girlfriend locked in an instance spar, one that seemed evenly matched. He could expect Agreste to be able to fight, the boy was in fencing after all, but not to this level and Mari… well that was unexpected.

To say he didn’t find their banter and technique interesting would be a gross understatement. He was starting to understand why Ladybug trusted Mari, that was until he heard “M’lady” and “Kitty” leave their lips. Things were clicking into place, it all made sense now. Damian felt like an idiot for not seeing it earlier, of course!

To say he was seeing both the heroes in a new respect for all they had to deal with in their regular lives and that not affecting their Hero lives would be putting it lightly. For Mari to be capable and cunning but also be able to hide her strength like it was second nature was something Damian wouldn’t admit but he found really attractive.

He found himself actually making an effort to be closer and nicer to her, and slightly to Adrien. He did this in his own Damian way, starting off small by calling them both by their first names and then slight nicknames, for example Marienette was now Mari. he learned more about their dynamic both in the mask and out, they were like siblings attached at the hip. Ready to throw down at the drop of a hat to help their counterpart.

To say Damian wasn’t prepared when Adrien invited him to spar with him and Mari was more true then Damian was willing to admit, they knew he knew didn’t they? “Wouldn’t want to leave out her boyfriend would we?” Adrien said with a wink leading him to the same room he had first spied on their spars.

Her swing to his head was barely dodged and he ducked out of the way just in time, “So when were you planning to tell me you knew?” Adrien stood off to the side making sure no one walked in like he had. It was just the two of them on the mat talking in English and sparing. “Well to be fair I didn’t know you knew,” his smirk didn’t last long as he had to do a backflip to dodge another kick coming his way.

They went back and forth for about 20 minutes before they were both tired out, Adrien only chiming in to encourage his “Lady”. So here they were both breathing heavily laid on their backs on the mat.

“You know you could be cute if you were more open, Sparing shouldn’t be how I get you to open up,” Mari was playful as she turned to look at the ten boy beside her.

“Oh just kiss already,” Adrien shouted from the side lines, this was something he had been waiting for since he saw the two togther. If Mari can get the Ice Princess Kagami to open up and be more herself Damian was a goner. Almost everyone eventually fell for the personification of sunshine that was Mari at some point, at least this one might actually have a chance.

“How ‘bout a real date first?” the gentle squeeze on his hand and content sound from the girl next to him brought a genuine smile to his face… maybe Grayson did have a point.

///

Please send more Asks in !!

#maribat #daminette #my writing #follower give away #fake dating au #this may be bad but i tried #first time actually writing these 2 #adrian and mari are basicly siblings

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revchainsaw · 3 years

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Demon Wind (1990)

Greetings and blessings upon you my flock! Welcome to the Cult of Cult. I am your pastor and priest of pop culture, ordained minister of genre films, the good reverend Chainsaw McGraw. You may just call me Reverend Chainsaw. Come and accept our sacrament upon the altar of online internet reviews. Our first holy offering is an absolute treasure, 1990′s Demon Wind. An offering ripped from the blood inked pages of the Evil Dead’s Necronomicon Ex Mortis, Demon Wind is not quite an unofficial entry into the world of Ash and the Deadites, but if you have exhausted the Catalogue of Sam Raimi Horror flicks (and let’s be honest, if you’re reading a Tumblr review of Demon Wind, you probably have), then Demon Wind will scratch that itch for sure.

The Message

Our anointed offering opens upon a boarded up farm house owned by simple country occultists George and Regina Carter. There’s a Mean Girls reference to be made here. George and Regina are defending their homestead from an unseen force (A Demon Wind some might say) through a Christian/Witchcraft combination of gospel music, a set of holy daggers, and a diary full of Regina’s spells. Unfortunately it’s not very effective, and George is possessed. George kills Regina, drops a snow globe, and for some inexplicable reason the farmhouse explodes bringing the films epilogue to a close.

With that we are brought to the year 1990 where our rag tag group of heroes converge upon the supernaturally supercharged Carter farm with one mission in mind, helping a homie sort out his shit. What a great group of friends; I can barely get the crew together for a game night but our protagonist Cory has a group of friends so tight they are willing to drop everything and drive untold miles to nowhere in particular just because he had a bad dream. Speaking of “tight” friends, of our doomed party, no friends are so tight as Chuck and Stacey, but we’ll get to that, in short order. Let us meet the fellowship of ding dongs who will battle the blustery bogeys of Demon Wind.

Cory is the star of the show. A fairly blasé everyman who’s so caught up in his chosen one journey that he can’t even bother to be slightly interesting. He is the grandchild of the oh so fetch (see I got to it) Regina/George pairing from earlier in the film. Cory is haunted by mysterious dreams, and a tragic reunion with his demented father, which draw him to the Carter farm. There is however more to meets the eye, you see Cory is from the planet Namek. Watch the movie, you’ll catch my drift.

Elaine is Cory's girlfriend and wants nothing more than to pull her pants down in public to bring a smile to his face.

Dell is Cory’s friend? Bully? Enemy? it’s not entirely clear. It seems Dells role in this story is to be an unabashed asshole and chauvinist to every character that interacts with him. He is also perhaps Elaine’s brother, or someone's brother. Listen, you’d have to pay wayyyy more attention than this movie warrants to parse out all the relationship dynamics in this flick. Let’s just say, Dell is here, and despite how he acts, the other characters seem to be ok with that fact.

Terri is Dell’s girlfriend and a good friend of Elaine. Despite being on the arm of a typical 80s teen flick bad guy, Terri seems to be the most eligible bachelorette on the Carter farm. Or so it may seem, but as I’ll explain later I think there is a truer love than can be expressed that really keeps Terri from leaving Dell.

Jack is a Big Ol’ Nerd. He speaks like the writers were convinced using a thesaurus was enough to convince us that the guy is existentially unfuckable. The guy is basically just Billy from Power Rangers, but instead of piloting a badass Triceratops Zord he just kids very mildly bummed when the love of his life is transformed into a very judgmental spontaneously combusting doll.

Speaking of spontaneously combusting dolls, the victim of that very unfair end is Bonnie. Bonnie clearly had way more confidence in the love of her bookish beaux than she should have. The betrayal is immense, not that Jack couldn’t save her, but just in the fact that when she meets her demise (despite the fact that he promised he’d protect her) he is not at all distraught. Poor Bonnie, she is by far the most human feeling of the cardboard cut out female protagonists in this film and she deserved better. Let’s be honest, Jack was looking for an out, and Bonnie was just too real for this movie.

And Now, without further ado, I’d like to introduce the greatest power couple in the history of B Movie Horror Cinema: Chuck and Stacy. If you think my introduction is a bit much, I promise that the film goes much further. Demon Wind begins it’s love affair with this bromance in delightfully extravagant style. There’s magic, explosions, opera, karate, beer and bunnies and a big ol middle finger to fucking Dell. Chuck had at once been romantically involved with Terri, but things went south somehow and he claims that he still holds a flame for her. Despite this continued insistence I think it’s plain to see that Chuck found comfort, magic, and a ride or die hunk in the arms of Stacey. Stacey is a suave, sharp, smooth talking guy, whose only desire in life seems to be whatever keeps Chuck around, and that seems to mean a lot of stage magic and martial arts! I could write about Chuck and Stacey all day, so I’ll move on from here.

The cast of this film is wild and honestly even the weak ones are fun to watch. There is no character on the roster who is easy to mistake for another. That is why it is so fun to watch them meet their demise and even more fun to see them return under the possession of the demon wind as oopy goopy caricatures of their human selves. And this does go on for quite awhile. Unfortunately even Chuck and Stacey are not enough to protect the surreal landscape in which they find themselves. At one point in the film a second set of friends drop by to add 2 more bodies to the massacre. Willy and Reena, a gangly set of clothing accessories who are given legs, but hey Ear Ring and Beret, I mean Willy and Reena are still fun to see torn to shreds.

The movie ultimately reveals that the madness was sparked by the fact that a cult worshipping a Demon God named Delos had actually built the homestead and the cursed ground they stand upon is the stage for the cult leader, a preacher named Anders to finally become the host of said Demon God. As interesting as that lore may sound on paper, it’s not particularly well executed, and Cory’s role to play in all of this is even more vague. All in all the 3rd act of this film feels a bit anti-climatic even if it does feature a demon superhero fight.

All that said I’d like to move on to the next phase of our sacred liturgy. The sacred and profane, the highs and lows of this movie.

Benediction

Best Feature: What the What?

The best feature of Demon Wind has to be how bizarre it is. It throws everything it can think of at the audience. Burning Skeletons leap from Crosses, eggs that hatch into piles of worms, EXPLODING BABY DOLLS, Cow skulls with long sticky tongues made of human intestines! They certainly sacrificed logic in order to insure they provided the audience with something they haven’t seen before.

Best Kill/ effect: A Cowmen Album Cover!

The best effect in Demon Wind is also it’s best kill. while investigating a barn on the Carter property, which is full of occult symbols, animal remains, and fun Texas Chainsaw Massacre style crafts. One of the crafts catches the eye of Beret, I mean Reena. You know by her hat that she knows a thing or to about fine art. This particular piece of barn décor is a human skeleton with a cow’s skull. As she is inspecting this “beautiful” piece, what appears to be a human intestine, flies from the mouth of the cow skull and wraps around Reena like a chameleons tongue. The intestine begins to retreat into the jaw of the skull bringing Reena’s head along with it. The skull chomps down into Reena, we get a satisfyingly bloody show, and Reena’s body winds up hanging limp from its mouth.

Second place belongs to Bonnie, but we’ve already spoken to that bizarre spectacle.

Best Scene: I Now Pronounce you Chuck and Stacey!

Chuck and Stacey enter the scene. I know I’m inconsistent in how I spell Stacey/Stacy. This scene was mentioned above and you just have to see it. Watch until Cory intervenes.

Best Character(s): Stacey Cassidy and the Sundance Chuck

Stacey is the best character in this film, but as I’m sure he wouldn’t accept this honor alone I have to make it a tie. Chuck and Stacey are just so good. Every moment they are on screen is a treasure. The introduction of these two just received the honor of best scene, but they shine as Demons and in an even longer sequence leading to their demise. They take the watch at the Carter home and from the fog emerges a t!ddy ghost, my congregants will be familiar with this sort of creature, who attempts to lure them outside. Stacey puffs up Chucks confidence calling him “John Wayne”, Chuck proposes they go on a Tahitian vacation, but Stacey wisely wary of voodoo suggests Vegas. And there you have it, these two pure good boys are surviving this flick and they are getting married in Vegas. Unfortunately, they decide to speed things up a bit, and decide that although they are not tempted by the t!ddy ghost, that they can use their karate magic to defeat the demonic hordes. They march out into the woods, but we can add the power of love to the list of things that are no use against the Demon Wind. Our best boys meet their fates together like two old west heroes, guns blazing! Oh, oh, but they come back as demons and they eat Dell, so thank God for that.

Worst feature: I ordered these Deadites from Wish

The villains are not particularly interesting. It’s boring, goopy, bad mouth piece demons that have appeared in hundreds of demon flicks already by this point, and it really makes you want to go back to the unexplained paranormal happenings from earlier in the movie rather than fighting these dollar store Deadites. The fact that the film leans into this in it’s third act really makes the film feel incredibly front loaded.

Worst scene: Cory in the House

Pretty much any scene that focuses on Cory is a bit weak. He’s just not fun. He gets to transform into an anime character in the end of the film and he’s still melodramatic and boring. This is often a problem with main characters in films, the writers don’t want them to be unlikeable or too quirky so the fun parts are always the supporting cast.

Worst Character: Dude, you’re NOT getting a Dell!

Don’t get me wrong, I hate Dell. But Dell is a big dumb goon who is just so fun to watch suffer and act like an utter meathead, and being hateable is not the worst thing a character can be. For this reason I have to give the worst character award to Cory; for many of the reasons I spoke about above.

Summary:

How fitting that a B movie gets a B. But that’s really a great place for this movie to be. So many big Hollywood productions don’t deserve that spot. Though Demon Wind may drag in the middle, and the characters and effects may be quite corny, it is certainly not boring. Demon Wind is eye candy even though it looks so ugly. It has some of the most loveable murder lambs in the genre and one of my favorite bromances in all of cinema, If you are a fan of Gonzo Horror then Demon Wind is a must see. If you are not all that into that sort of thing I promise you’ll have a good time. I highly recommend it.

Overall Grade: B

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