#(he’s not actually a man but he’ll figure that part out later)
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relaxxattack · 1 day ago
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dave strider will walk around calling himself the gayest gay man alive and everyone’s like ohhh but he loves women. and the thing is he does. but he’s gay about it. you understand.
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ozzgin · 10 months ago
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Request/Idea-
Male Yandere Lawyer x Female Embroider Reader (a lady who works as a tailor is fine too)
Imagine a man falling head over heels for that newly employed lady who hand embroiders beautiful handkerchiefs in a luxury shop he visits to get his custom suits! And he just trying to coax her into dating him, marrying him, and becoming his stay at home wife (and mother of his children eventually) 🥰🤭
Age difference? I need some DILF Daddy energy more in my life (but don’t make him an actual father…yet)
P.S. I adore your OCs and writing. And your artwork is way too fucking good! You’re art is just *chef’s kiss* infuckingcredible
-👘
Ooh, you know what this reminds me of? I have a yaoi volume from Scarlet Beriko, “Queen and the tailor”, about an interior designer that visits a legendary tailor whose suits will supposedly help you achieve success. The tailor turns out to be a scary looking, blunt man but nonetheless extremely talented. I liked the premise a lot, so it’s definitely interesting to try out a different perspective.
In this case I have the image of a patient, soft-spoken reader and a hurried, short tempered lawyer. Comically different but in a way that eventually works out, you know? Also thank you for the kind words!
Yandere!Lawyer x Embroiderer!Reader Headcanons
Featuring a Reader that is blissfully unaware the lawyer she just stared dating has their entire life together already sorted out.
Content: female reader, age gap, older yandere, obsessive behavior
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Your eyes begin to hurt mildly, so you look out the window and blink repeatedly, trying to refresh your poor sight. Such detailed works always strain you terribly, but you love seeing the finished result. Others must, too, given your handkerchiefs are often sold out the very same day. Right before your needle pierces the silk canvas anew, the door opens with a burst and you jolt. An older man in a suit, arguing loudly over the phone. He’s drumming his fingers over the counter, eyes darting around in search for an attendant. You know the type quite well, so you hurry over with the hoop still in your hand. “Might I help you with anything?” You mouth discreetly. He turns to you, stares for a couple of seconds, and promptly ends his call.
Out of all the places, he certainly didn’t expect regretting his rusty, unpolished flirting skills in a luxury tailor shop. Yet here he is now, clumsily mumbling something about his new suit he’s come to pick up and wondering how to connect that with your number. The name’s the easy part, as it’s neatly and conveniently printed out on the little badge pinned to your collar. Everything else, not so much. You excuse yourself and return moments later with his order. Shit. You tilt your head, confused by the delayed response, worrying whether you forgot something. Next time. He’ll figure it out for sure next time he comes here.
If there’s one good thing about his career, it’s that his eyes have been trained to spot every detail. For example the embroidery hoop you gently held while speaking to him, so he knows exactly what his next custom order will be. Truth be told, he didn’t anticipate your popularity and long waiting times, but a calculated raised tone with a sprinkle of intimidation has convinced the employee to assign him to you as earliest priority. Whether he can flirt remains to be seen, but arguing with others? Child’s play.
“Thank you for coming again today.” You bow slightly and extend the gift bag. “Although, I must say…I’ve never seen you using these before. What has caused your sudden interest in handkerchiefs?” Rather bold of you to begin such conversations, but your curiosity is too great. No matter how hard you try, you can’t imagine why a blunt, nonchalant man like him would abruptly become passionate about embroidery. A lover? You smile faintly at the idea. Whoever it is, they’ve taken quite the challenge upon themselves. The lawyer frowns at the inquiry. It seems you’re just as observant as him. Maybe this shall be the pretext he can finally cling onto. So he presents it in the factual truth you’d hear in a courthouse: it’s his excuse to see you. You raise your eyebrows in surprise. Well now, isn’t it just silly? He could’ve simply asked. Buying countless expensive handmade items instead of plainly confessing his intentions…He stumbles, flustered. The same man whose ruthless reputation has even reached your humble ears is anxiously awaiting your response with a deep blush on his face.
The childlike innocence doesn’t last long. You’ve agreed to date him and that’s great, but he’s a man with little time that has known exactly what he wants for many years. When he laid his eyes on you he didn’t imagine cheesy coffee dates as you discuss your favorite color and cautiously breach the topic of intimacy. What’s the point? He’s already certain he’ll spend the rest of his life with you. Skip the unnecessary steps. On the other hand, you’re not as cooperative as he’d wish. Truly, the tangible proof that opposites attract. You’re always calm and take your time with everything. It’s almost frustrating how easygoing you are. When asked when you’re moving in with him, you just smiled and wondered out loud what could be wrong with your small studio above the shop. Marriage? Good question, you never thought about it.
Oh, the irony. Last time a client was being particularly difficult, your lawyer boyfriend pulled him out by the collar under the mortified stares of the other attendants and shoppers. The exact attitude he himself would’ve shown before, yet this time it’s different. Of course it is, it involves you. His thin patience runs out if it’s you. That’s all there is to it. Can you blame a man for following his heart? They say you should always chase your dreams; he prefers hunting them down efficiently, and the shotgun is pointed in your direction. His sweet, exquisite prey he can never get enough of.
Finally you agree to move in with him. Your hesitation was maddening and he’d started coming up with downright psychotic alternatives to convince you, such as your studio burning down after a vicious attack of some unknown hooligans. So it was rather wise of you not to push someone that knows the law like the back of his hand, even if you aren’t aware of it yet. He enthusiastically guides you around your new forever home, omitting unimportant details. The spare office he emptied for a future nursery? You’ll get to that later.
He can’t wait to spoil you. See, that’s the advantage of dating an older man. He’s gotten his life sorted out a long time ago. All that was left was finding you. You just need to be a darling and behave. He knows you will. After all, you’re his talented little embroideress that won’t have to worry about anything else ever again.
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beelmons · 2 years ago
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Luxury Poker Nights pt. 2
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Pairing: Hotch, Reid, Morgan x fem!reader Rating: Explicit, smut (18+, minors do not interact with this story) Word count: 5,806 cw: unprotected sex (do not recommend), sex-servant kink, voyeurism, multiple partners, non-vegan food options, slight degradation, free use kink Summary: It's Aaron's turn to host the poker night, and he figured it would be a great move to invite the entertainment they all fervently enjoyed last time: you. A/N: This was so highly requested I hope it lives up to expectations. Prompted by an original blurb found here Tag list: @illumi3 @ash-recs @canyonmooncreations @howabouticallyou @unlikelyqueenninja @kay-moranguinho and my always honorary mentions: @ihavemanyhusbands @cassiemartzz
Meeting Aaron Hotchner was nothing short of an absolute pleasure. Gentle, kind, considerate, funny when he finally got rid of the stoic boss facade, everything you would love in a partner whether casual or serious. All these reasons played a role in deciding to partake on a very specific contract: to serve as his servant, sexually speaking. 
"Hey," Aaron greeted you before leaning in to press a friendly kiss to your cheek. 
"Hey, Mr. Hotchner." you replied. 
His head tilted and eyebrows raised with playful offense "I've told you, if you don't want to call me Aaron, at least go with Hotch." 
Every so often he would call you in, mostly to a very beautiful house owned by a man you knew as Rossi, and you'd come for the sole purpose to act out your role. To serve and please them. 
This time, however, he was hosting in his own apartment. It was the classic bachelor pad, the adult version, barely decorated but tidy and resourceful. You had been in there only once, but you had memorized the area pretty well. He also looked especially handsome, navy blue polo shirt and denim black pants with casual sneakers, you could notice his toned biceps in that outfit. 
"What are my instructions for today?" you asked as you got in, taking a look around to remember the layout. 
"The usual. Although, I might ask you to take charge of the kitchen for a little bit. Bring snacks, beverages, nothing too complicated. Oh, and…” he began to say, reaching for a bag that was laying by the entrance “this.” 
From it, he pulled out what seemed like a traditional maid apron. You could tell he had it tailored for your body, and that the lace around it seemed to be fine, not the cheap ones costume stores had. You reached for it and pulled it from the strings you were supposed to tie, you hovered it over your body to catch a preview of what it would look like, the man had a good eye, it sure made you feel hot. 
“Of course, if it makes you uncomfortable, we can ditch it.” he tried to reassure you, seeing how you kept admiring the piece. 
“It’s alright, Mr. Hotchner. But a maid outfit? I thought you preferred me in the bare.” you teased. 
“Don’t worry, we still get plenty of access to the parts of you we love the most, being that the apron is the only garment of the costume you will actually wear.” his hands slipped in his pockets, his face lighting up with a smug smile “You can change in the bathroom, the guys should be here soon.” 
You made your way to the mentioned room to obey your first order of the night. Aaron waited patiently in the kitchen, putting together a couple more things so that the serving part of your job would be easier. Nonetheless, a knock on the door distracted him from his duty. He hurried to open, immediately being greeted by Morgan and Reid. 
“Hey, where’s Dave?” he asked, noticing a missing member. 
“He said he’s got something to do but he’ll catch us—” Morgan’s eyes fixed on something behind Hotch, and his train of thought completely disappeared “—later.” 
The boss turned around when he noticed Spencer’s perplexed eyes, similar to Morgan’s, and he smiled to himself as he turned around to watch you already in your ‘uniform’, to call it some way. The apron was comfortably secured around your waist, the length of it barely covering your front to the middle of your thighs, your back absolutely exposed, being that the fabric of the apron was only on the forepart, your upper body out in the open, with your nipples already perked from the cold air conditioning hitting them. And to them, you were the most beautiful of monuments. 
“What’s your safe word?” Aaron asked, his eyes immediately scanning your body.
“Cacao.” you said confidently, your head nodding in reassurance. 
Aaron looked back at Spencer and Morgan, making sure they caught what you had said. They both shook their heads in agreement, and so he locked the door behind them “Let’s begin poker night, then.” he ordered. 
“I’ll get some drinks for you guys.” you said, and you were about to move to the kitchen when Hotch’s voice stopped you. 
“I believe I haven’t given you permission to speak.” he emitted in a commanding voice. 
You understood his words for what they were: a warning. He had been clear enough, when you were there to work, you had to be diligent. Always keep yourself busy, available, and quiet, those were the rules you had signed up for. Your hands folded on your lap and you bowed your head slightly in response. 
Once they were out of your sight, you headed to the kitchen. You gathered a couple of snacks that Mr. Hotchner had prepared; some peanuts, pretzels, and cut up fruit, added with three open beers. He had let a tray out for you as well, possibly with the intention of making everything easier. By the time you got to the table and began to spread the food and beverages around they had already dealt the cards. 
You settled the empty tray on the side on a random surface, and Mr. Hotchner spread one arm in your direction indicating you that he wanted you to join his side; you did as he desired and his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you to sit on his leg. As if ritualistic, the hand that was closer to his body was grabbed and brought to his lips, a gentle kiss landed on the back of it, and then he guided it to his member, that at some point he had already exposed. It was an instinct, you already knew what to do. Your hand began to slowly massage the barely hard shaft, and you could hear him exhale particularly hard at the sensation. 
“Rules will change for tonight. You can’t bet ‘All in’ unless you have at least fifteen chips, and you can’t bet two rounds in a row.” Aaron began to say. 
“Isn’t 15 a bit expensive?” Spencer’s eyes narrowed with doubt. 
“Not at all, given that an ‘all in’ winner also gets 10 minutes to command our servant as they please.” his hand dragged upwards, purposely taking his time to brush your skin with his fingertips, nipple included, until they landed on your chin, tilting your face to have you look in the direction of the other two men “And you could agree, she’s worth the risk.” 
Your breath hitched in your throat at the way they hungrily stared at you, but they didn’t say anything further, both Morgan and Reid simply went back to looking at their cards. 
The game began and you hadn’t been given permission to move, you had to remain on Mr. Hotchner’s leg, caressing his member. He seemed unbothered by your steady movement, but you could feel him throb every so often, and it would fill you with cocky pride. That was another rule: you weren’t allowed to go rogue, they came when they wanted to, not when you caused them to. If you acted too smart and tried to make them climax before they wanted to, you were sidelined, given the silent treatment. That was more punishment than doing anything else to you, because chances were you were going to enjoy whatever else. 
You would steal a glance at random times to notice his tip swollen and reddened, even when he tried to keep composure, and continued to play his hands normally, you had learned the little twitches his dick made whenever he was getting close. His head turned to place a chaste kiss to your shoulder blade, giving you permission to keep going. Your hand trailed down to give his balls a gentle squeeze, which caused a loud groan to come out of his throat, and after a couple more fast strokes he began to spill his seed. 
Mr. Hotchner had been clear that he did not like messes; his entire member was coated in his semen, and some had spilled over his pants as well. You reached for one of the pockets the apron had sown on to find a handkerchief that you recognized as his, in seconds, you were on your knees, you wiped clean the fabric of his pants, his shaft, on the other hand, didn’t require the cloth, you grabbed at the base and licked a strip up, repeating the same movement until he was clean, and hard yet again. 
“All in.” Morgan’s voice snapped everyone’s attention, and since you hadn’t been given indication to do otherwise, your mouth kept working Aaron’s dick.
“Already? You’ve only won one round.” Spencer asked, his math not quite adding up. 
“I’ve got enough.” he clarified. 
“You got exactly 15, though, if you lose this, you don’t get any more.” Hotch looked in his direction.
Morgan’s head tilted slightly to the side, catching sight of your still bobbing head. He smiled as a response to his boss’s explanation, pushing the chips forward to the center of the table. 
“She’s worth the risk.” he said, a wink sent to Spencer. You couldn’t help but blush at his words, even if you weren’t able to stop your current activity unless indicated. 
The other two men exchanged looks, if they didn’t raise, they would still lose, perhaps that was part of Morgan’s scheme, but they weren’t about to just give you up by default. They pushed the corresponding chips to the pool in the center, and Reid was the first one to open his cards. Full house, nines over jacks. Hotch was in a slump, two pairs, queens and kings. 
“Full house.” Morgan said before he opened his cards, and Spencer’s attention was specially perked “Aces over sevens.” he finally said. 
Spencer let out a soft curse under his breath as Morgan laughed in pride, he was certainly rejoicing on having made that play. You received a light tap on your shoulder that indicated you it was time to move masters, and so you stood up and directed to stand next to Derek. 
“Actually, sweetheart, I will need you in the kitchen for a bit.” he said, his hand nonetheless landing on the skin of your rear, gently squeezing it “Peanuts and pretzels are a bit hard on my stomach, do you think you could make me a quick sandwich?” he asked ever so chivalrously.  
“Anything in particular you would like?” you asked, taking his question as permission to speak. 
“Some ham and bacon would be excellent, thank you.” with a soft slap of your ass he sent you your merry way. 
Kitchen duty was on the original arrangement, although you didn’t quite picture yourself making sandwiches, Derek’s smile was so charming you would learn gourmet cuisine just to please him. 
You gathered the required stuff, bread, some mayonnaise, and the ham and bacon. Being that you were topless, using a pan was out of the question, so you used the tray on the small electric oven that was next to the stove to cook the pork strips. You were too entranced by the silly way in which the meat shrunk to notice that Derek had walked into the kitchen, only becoming aware of his presence when he leaned next to you against the counter. 
“You make a great maid.” he pointed out, and you bolted up a little from the surprise. His hand instinctively reached for your waist, trying to keep you from falling back “Easy, you might hurt yourself.” 
Even when he made sure your feet were steady, he didn’t remove his hand from where it was, in fact, he simply took a couple of steps closer. 
“I enjoy servicing.” you said, eyes traveling south. You could see his cock already hanging out from his zipper, and you tried to reach for it in an attempt to caress it. His free hand, however, stopped you. 
“I can see that. You also take initiative, that’s impressive.” he began, his hand bringing yours up to press a kiss to it in a similar way Hotch used to do, but instead of allowing it to stroke his member, he directed it to the kitchen utensils you had laid out “But I believe for things to be done right they have to be done with the utmost concentration, so why don’t we focus on that sandwich, huh?” 
You pouted a little and he let out a light chuckle at your disappointment. You went back to the task at hand, getting a dull butter knife to begin spreading the mayonnaise around the slice. You felt the warmth of his touch leave your waist, and you were about to complain yet again until you felt one of his fingers sneak between your legs and trail up your slit. 
You shuddered and your legs instinctively closed. He tsk’ed his tongue in disapproval, and you understood to return them to their original position. Derek wasted no time, the two fingers in the middle of his hand slipping into your cunt. He was fixated on your face, absorbing every expression as you melted due to his digits, your hands gripping on the surface, leaving the sandwich unattended. 
“I haven’t told you to stop working, have I?” he whispered commandingly. 
His fingers began to curl upwards inside of you as they continued to move inside and out, getting coated with your juices. You tried your best to keep yourself still, your hand shakily reaching for the rest of the ingredients. He didn’t stop his movements even when you dropped the knife on the counter from the way he hit the back of your cunt.
“Careful.” he warned at the clinking sound, you peeked over your shoulder while you grabbed the utensil and out of the corner of your eye you could notice his hand moving over his now hardened cock “Come on, beautiful, keep going.” 
You shook your head a little in an attempt to clear it, even when his relentless fingers weren’t giving you the opportunity. You finally managed to pay attention and began to assemble the deli meats. You barely noticed when he moved behind you until you felt his tip rub against your entrance. 
His hands ran over your front as he pushed inside of you, slowly, and they landed on your breasts. A pleasure mewl slipped past your mouth, but you cut it short. 
“Come on, now, I’m not Hotch.” he complained while he gave you the chance to adjust to his member “You don’t gotta have my permission to talk, let that voice out.” 
His hips snapped rather roughly against yours, a loud slapping sound echoing around the kitchen; it caused a loud moan from you, one that you were sure could be heard from the other room. “That’s a good girl.” he praised. 
His initial rhythm wasn’t slow, after all he was in a hurry. It made assembling the sandwich all much more difficult, you struggled to open the door of the electric oven, almost getting burned thanks to the way his cock so deeply pushed inside you, all while your throat was unable to keep quiet, intermittent noises unsteady from his thrusts. 
One of his hands slipped down and in between your legs, the tip of his middle finger rubbed at your clit with a gentle speed, almost unmatching to his hips. You sensed him look over your shoulder to check up on the status of his food, and your hand trembled as you set the bacon down to finish it up. He laughed with pleasure, and his fingers dipped on the skin around your hips. 
“Can you take it, baby?” you could feel his thick member erratically twitching inside of you as he asked, and you nodded your head fervently “Of course you can.” he reassured. 
He snapped a couple more times, rough enough to make you lose your balance and press up against the counter, before you heard him grunt and felt your cunt being filled with his spill. The sensation of his cock pushing your walls sent you over the edge, and you began to drip with your release, a loud moan accompanying the blissful sensation. He pulled out with ease, not waiting for you to come out of your high, and stepped away to grab the meal you had prepared. 
“Thank you, beautiful, looks delicious.” he winked at you with his signature charming smile before he began walking out of the kitchen “Oh, and pretty boy said he wanted some iced tea, be a doll and bring it after you’re done cleaning up, thanks.” 
Without further word, he vanished from your sight. You had to take a second to catch your breath, desperate for a bit more friction. You considered touching yourself, but if Mr. Hotchner were to catch you, you wouldn’t be able to come again all night, he would make sure of it. 
You could feel Derek’s cum beginning to drip, but the cleanliness of the kitchen was a priority. You abided by the task that you had been handed, after a couple of minutes of cleaning up, since you hadn’t made a big mess, you prepared the beverage for Dr. Reid and headed back to the area. You settled the glass of iced tea next to the man that had requested it. 
“All in.” as soon as you stood next to him, you heard the youngest of the group exclaim, he then muttered a casual ‘thank you’ at the gesture of having his drink brought over. 
Hotch and Morgan exchanged playful glances. They knew he was rushing, his decision possibly prompted by the fact that your breasts were so close to his face; they noticed the bobbing of his adam’s apple, and Aaron had paid attention to how he palmed his bulge while he heard you get taken in the kitchen. Logic just flew out of the window when you were around, and his coworkers adored seeing that side of him. 
“You got me.” Morgan said as he folded his cards, and Reid cockily took a sip off his drink.  
“I’ll play.” Hotch mentioned before adding his chips to the pool. 
“Two pairs. Kings and Queens.” Spencer opened his hand. 
On his part, Hotch could simply scoff while he threw his cards on the table. “Jacks and Queens.” he said with pretend defeat. 
The blond man boasted with his expression in pure pride. He didn’t use to be the kind to order you around, unlike the other two who had gotten very comfortable, and preferred you took the initiative during game sessions. 
This time, nonetheless, he looked quite eager to take control. Once he noticed you looking at him expectantly, waiting patiently for your command. He narrowed his eyes, ever inexperienced, trying to come up with something, or rather trying to find the right way to ask. 
“Could you…” he stopped to try and analyze his next words “Could you bend over?” he motioned towards the table. 
It took your entire strength to not laugh, you weren’t making fun of him, he was just ridiculously adorable, and it made hard contrast with the whole situation in the first place and his actual sexual interests. You obeyed, not wanting to make him self-conscious, moving Derek’s plate out of the way elegantly before resting your entire body face-down against the piece of furniture. 
You let out a quiet whimper from the contrast in temperature; your ass was left up and exposed in his direction. He finally stood up, and you looked back to peek at what he was up to, his hips had lined up with yours, his member was still clothed, but that didn’t stop him from grabbing at your asscheeks and pressing his bulge against your dripping cunt. 
“Why don’t we change the game?” his eyes were glued on your skin wrinkling up with every push, but he kept talking to his coworkers “How about blackjack? Hotch can play house” he proposed. 
“Reid, it’s literally illegal for you to play blackjack in two states.” Hotch pointed out. 
“That’s true. You have an unfair advantage.” Morgan added. 
“Card counting can only be done with extreme concentration and observation of the cards being dealt.” his eyes didn’t leave your body, his palm gently massaging your skin as he kept rubbing himself on you “And I happen to be too busy to pay enough attention.” 
“Alright, but blackjack is a fast game. The player needs to win at least three rounds to claim their prize. Draws don’t count towards the winning number.” Aaron clarified.
The rest of the players nodded in agreement. Mr. Hotchner was the dealer, since he was playing the role of ‘the house’, and he began assigning the first round of cards. Before he got to Reid, though, he noticed there was no space on the table, your body occupying most of it, and so he resolved he would just put it over your naked back. 
You gulped in surprise and your body seemed to get hotter, you surely weren’t expected to be used this way; your nipples brushed against the surface of the table, and Reid noticed how you pushed back against him slightly. 
The doctor pulled away, satisfied for the time being with the friction that he had gotten, and realized there were a couple of white-ish stains. 
“Come on, Morgan!” he exclaimed once he noticed it was semen “Can’t you clean up after yourself?” 
Derek could only break into a laugh, and you noticed a small smirk on Aaron’s face as well. 
“Sorry, kid.” he simply said, waiting for Hotch to open his second card. 
Reid made an unamused expression and crouched down to observe the situation. You still had some drip down your thigh, and your slit still had some traces of Morgan’s release. 
“I’ll help you out, but I need you to do something for me.” he said, palming at your ass to let you know he was talking to you; you hummed, replying that you were listening intently “I won’t be able to use my mouth, so if I suck, it means hit, if I insert, it means stay” 
You furrowed your brows with confusion, but he didn’t give you much time to understand. You felt his tongue trail up your inner thigh, taking the liquid that had spilled over it with it, and shortly the muscle pressed against your slit, taking a lap at your entire sex.
Your hands gripped at the side edges of the square table, on your right side Derek Morgan was looking intently at his cards, on your left Aaron Hotchner was paying close attention to the youngest’s movements. He snapped back to the game once your pleased noises started flowing, his hand darting out to land on top of yours and rub at the back of it slightly. Aaron dealt the second round of cards and Reid’s landed on your back once again. 
“14.” the older man said. 
A little distracted by the way his tongue teased your labia, you didn’t pay attention to the words the dealer had said until you felt Spencer’s lips wrap around your clit and intensely suck the air in. The sensation, which was foreign, made your legs go weak; the man pressed his face against your rear to keep you up, and it only made the interaction so much hotter. 
“Hit me!” you exclaimed in between moans. 
“8. Adds to 22.” Hotch said calmly. 
Reid grumbled against your cunt, his tongue going back to your entrance instead, superficially licking, taking his time to taste everything around it. 
Morgan was busted as well, which meant the house took the round. Spencer kept a steady and slow pace; you felt the cards being removed from your back and, almost immediately, a new one was added. 
“20.” Hotch said again. 
The youngster’s hands had been placed against the outer sides of your thighs in the meantime, however once he heard the number they traveled up. He pulled away and you slightly whined at the lack of contact, his thumbs spread the outer part of your pussy open and his tongue immediately slipped inside your entrance. 
“Stay.” you struggled to let out, only coming out as a shaky breath. 
Hotch opened a couple more cards, Derek was busted again, so there was a chance for Reid’s win. 
“21 for the house, house wins.” Aaron exclaimed. 
Your head defeatedly laid against the wooden table, the man buried in your rear could feel your walls clenching and your hips slightly moving to grind against yours. Your shaky breaths didn’t only alert him that your second orgasm of the night was coming, the other two men could also tell. 
“Reid, your time with her is almost up.” Aaron pointed out after taking a look at his watch. 
Spencer pulled away once again, to your discomfort, and narrowed his eyes pretending to think.
“I’ll tell you what, win this round and I’ll let you orgasm.” Reid proposed to you. 
You trembled a little with anticipation, feeling your orgasm edging on. Instead of allowing his tongue back on you, he simply pressed open-mouthed kisses to your labia, making sure he wouldn’t touch any sensitive areas. 
Aaron dealt another round of cards over your back, not even paying attention to your begging face. 
“16.” he notified you since your eyes were tightly shut with irritation from being so close yet unable to release. 
“Hit me.” you commanded, still feeling Reid’s wet lips kissing your sides. 
“3. Adds to 19.” He clarified as he threw another card against your back. 
“Hit me.” you said once again.
Aaron and Spencer exchanged looks, it was a very risky move, statistically heavily improbable.
Hotch opened the new card against your back, and he let out a pleased chuckle. “2. Adds to twenty one.” 
Reid laughed with incredulity, but he was a man of his word. His lips clasped your sensitive nub once again, and he sucked the air in as his tongue moved rapidly from side to side. A high-pitched moan at his movements, and you couldn’t help but to release your juices over his face. You could hear an erotic slurping sound from the back, he was abiding by his promise of keeping you clean. 
“Well played!” he beamed at you and cleared the cards from your back “That was a very unlikely pull, I’m surprised you made it.” 
“Certainly.” Hotch reassured as he dealt the next round of cards.
Reid had sat back down on his chair, and as the pieces of carton landed on you, you decided to stay put on the table. Spencer’s eyes would travel from his cards to your ass from time to time, almost as if he was pondering his next move after he won. 
However, he wouldn’t be as lucky, and neither would Derek, since the next round was won by the house, which meant Hotch was back in control. You were about to stand back up and his hand laid on your bare back, stopping your movement,
“Actually, honey, why don’t you remain there for a little bit more?” he commanded and you obediently remained “Reid, move.” he said standing up.
The younger furrowed his brows with unintentional defiance “But this is my seat…” he quietly complained. 
“You can have your seat back once I’m done with her.” Hotch said, his tone was as imposing, but you could tell he was a little more gentle. You didn’t know the exact nature of their relationship, but you had figured Spencer was a soft spot for him. 
He finally obeyed and stood up and away from the chair, leaving enough space for Hotch to stand behind you. You could immediately feel the tip of his member prodding at your entrance, after what Reid had done to you, you certainly didn’t need any more preparation. You were overstimulated as it was, but his cock was always welcome, and he could tell by the way you were clenching around nothing simply by having him so close. 
He smirked to himself at the feeling and immediately allowed himself inside of you. You grunted with pleasure as you felt him enter, your fingers, tired from gripping on the sides of the table, beginning to curl around in the air. 
“Here, you can grab onto this.” the ever so chivalrous Derek Morgan reached out to intertwine his fingers with yours, giving you a soft area for you to squeeze trying to not lose control. 
Mr. Hotchner wasn’t going to pretend being gentle, his thrusts picking up speed as soon as you had gotten used to his size. He moved his shirt slightly aside, enjoying every second of watching himself disappear between your contracting walls. He let out a soft groan in pleasure, and you could tell he was beginning to lose himself in you. His hand gripped at your buttock, squeezing roughly to help him move your hips back and forth. 
The other two participants didn’t seem to move a finger, they could only stare, with pleased expressions on their face, at the way tears began to prickle on the corner of your eyes. Reid reached to land a hand on top of your head soothingly, and his kindness was always appreciated. 
Your obnoxious sounds were a delight to the three of them, therefore they dreaded the tune of a ringing phone interrupting the melody they adored. Hotch reached for the gadget within his pocket, furrowing his brows at the caller ID. 
“Yeah, JJ?” he said and made a ‘shushing’ sign to Spencer and Derek. 
Reid gently moved his hand from your head to your mouth, initially he was simply going to cover it with his palm, but an impulsive thought beat him to it: his index and middle finger slipped inside your mouth and pressed against your tongue. 
“Suck.” he ordered in a whisper “It will help you keep quiet.” 
You obeyed the doctor’s order, however, focusing on coating his digits in your saliva; your sounds were kept muffled in your throat, but they escaped your lips from time to time, since Aaron was not giving you a second of rest. 
“Can’t it wait? I see. It’s fine, Reid and Morgan are with me, call Dave, we’ll meet you there in 15.” Hotch continued instructing. He was doing his best to appear unbothered, and he was purposely hitting deeper each time, almost making it a challenge for you to keep your sounds down. 
“A case?” Morgan inquired as soon as his superior got off the phone. 
“And urgent.” he put the device away once again and leaned slightly over you. His fingers glued themselves to your clit, circling it slowly, he was trying to, most likely, rush your orgasm. The pleasure it brought to you was a little painful, being that it had been the part of your body that had received the most attention during the night. You whined at the sensation, and Reid had to slide his fingers further back to keep you from screaming. 
“You know, Hotch, there’s a question that I’ve been meaning to ask for a while.” Spencer suddenly emitted, and Aaron looked curiously in his direction, prompting him to inquire “Are you really paying her?” 
The question caused Hotch to chuckle slightly “No, it’s more like an arrangement.” he confessed, still focused on pounding your cunt. 
“Then what does she get out of it?” his eyes narrowed as he observed you, fucked out of your mind, swallow your cheeks around his fingers. 
“She gets to come,” he clarified “as many times as she can take.” 
As he spoke, his hand raised to land a loud, yet not utterly strong, slap on your ass; he did that sometimes when he allowed you to release. His hips snapped one final time, pressing all the way in to spill his cum inside of you. Your third orgasm of the night was divine, your teeth slightly gritting against Reid’s skin. 
You laid there, absolutely exhausted, for a couple of minutes as they gathered their things and fixed up their clothes. Once you had recovered your energy enough to stand up, you felt your knees betraying you almost immediately. Morgan bolted from his nearby spot to offer his body as support, his arm surrounding your middle. 
“You alright?” he asked with concern and you nodded. 
“Here.” Spencer came closer with a wet wipe that he handed to you. 
“I’m sorry we can’t see you off, but this is urgent.” Hotch came out of a random room with a briefcase on his hand and his pristine suit already on “Rest as much as you want and help yourself to anything in the kitchen, just make sure to lock the door when you leave.” 
Without saying any further he leaned closer to you and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. He muttered a ‘let’s go’ directed to his subordinates and almost dashed outside the apartment. Morgan simply took a quick peck at the side of your head and told you to ‘take care’. Spencer stood there awkwardly for a second; you could see in his eyes that he was trying to do something, anything, but he couldn’t find the right gesture. Unable to take it much longer, you curled your hand into a fist and offered it in his direction. He bumped it with a fist of his own, and both of you laughed with a bit of embarrassment.
“Listen,” you said before he could move away, slightly entranced by his hazel eyes “the arrangement I have with Mr. Hotchner…” you diverted your gaze, suddenly slightly embarrassed “...it’s not exclusive.” you finally said. 
Spencer’s eyes opened and eyebrows raised in surprise, were you insinuating what he thought you were? His mouth opened and closed in search for an answer, but he struggled to make sense of anything, too scared to diffuse the interest you had shown in him. 
“You don’t have to agree right now,” you reached behind you, to the side table that had the landline phone on it, to grab a pad and a pen and immediately wrote down your number “if you want to explore a contract of your own, give me a call.” you said with a smile handing the paper over to him. 
“I will!” he said with almost too much excitement. 
“Reid!” Morgan yelled from the corridor. 
Spencer let out a quick curse and wrinkled his face with frustration “I’ll call you.” he said before he left in a rush. 
You giggled a little with teenage-like excitement, a feeling that you hadn’t experienced since you first started your dynamic with Mr. Hotchner. New guy, new conditions, new games. Perhaps poker is not the only way to have fun. 
3K notes · View notes
zepskies · 2 months ago
Text
Lost on You - Part 9
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Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Supe!Reader
Summary: 1983 is a big year for you. You’re finally chosen to join the ranks of Payback, led by the most (in)famous supe in the world: Soldier Boy. He’ll never admit that he’s trying his damndest to figure you out. You’ll never admit that he’s actually growing on you. But the problem with this game is deciding who’s the predator, and who is prey.
AN: The great escape…
Song Inspo: “Running Up That Hill (A Deal With God)” by Kate Bush
Word Count: 7.2K
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Blood and violence, death, angst, trauma and PSTD, smut, hurt/comfort and feels.
🎵 YouTube Playlist || Spotify Playlist
🎙️ Series Masterlist
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Part 9: Free to Be You and Me
Free me, you compelled Eisenstein’s mind.
He obeyed you with a vacant look in his eyes. He unhooked your straitjacket and opened the door. After you grabbed up his cattle prod, you still didn’t release your psychic hold. You ordered him forward, and for the first time you walked freely out of your cell without restraint.
Take me to Soldier Boy.
Eisenstein walked forward. Any time you came across a guard, you tased them long enough to touch whatever scrap of skin you could, usually their face or their neck. You added them to your collective control.
Now you had literal bodyguards protecting you as you made your way through the compound. You hadn’t used your powers in so long. It felt good, like stretching an aching muscle.
Once you reached Ben’s cell, Eisenstein stopped in front of it. When you peered inside the small window on the door, it looked misty as hell.
Clear the gas, you ordered.
The doctor pressed a key of numbers on a pad beside the door, and the gas receded into the vents.
Open the door.
He did as you commanded, then he stepped aside for you. You ordered the guards to stand watch outside the open door before you hurried inside. Ben was lying on the floor, mostly on his side. He was still very naked, though your face warmed as you tried not to focus on that part.
It made you sad more than anything. They’d been keeping him in here like an animal, worse than you, and after what he did for you…you could no longer find it in yourself to hate him.
You took his face into your hands and tapped his cheek.
“Ben… Ben, wake up,” you prodded.
His brows twitched. He made a sound of waking, and you swept his hair out of his eyes. Before they even opened all the way, his hand shot out and grabbed you by the throat. It choked a gasp out of you as you scrambled to grab his wrist.
“Ben,” you said with difficulty. “It’s me…”
Though if you thought about it, after the last things you’d said to him, maybe he did really want to kill you. Maybe he regretted saving you after all.
As he blinked more awake, this time he actually took in your face. His hand relaxed when he recognized you. You panted in relief to see it dawn in his eyes. His thumb slightly brushed across your jaw, and your name fell from his lips, almost in wonder.
“Yeah, it’s me,” you said with a smile and tears in your eyes. “Come on.”
You helped him up the best you could. His frame was bigger and heavier, and he was still a bit unsteady on his feet. He slung an arm around your shoulders and let you guide him out of the room. He tensed at seeing the guards in their green uniforms and Eisenstein standing there, but you held a hand to his chest. His skin there was hot to the touch. You frowned.
Must be whatever the serum did to him.
Dismay pulsed inside you, but you’d think about that later.
“It’s okay, they’re with me,” you told him with a smile, before you looked at one of the guards.
“Give him your clothes,” you ordered.
The man was compelled to set down his gun, take off his hat and the rest of his uniform, even his underwear, socks, and boots. He gave them all to Ben, who raised a brow.
“I’m good without the briefs,” he said with a grimace, tossing the used underwear to the floor. You flickered at a smile.
“Guess you’re going commando,” you said.
Ben scoffed. He muttered, “Yeah, what else is fucking new.”
A sliver of sadness once again pierced you, but you stayed quiet. He released you so he could get dressed. Biting your lip, you glanced away to give him some privacy.
Another guard turned the corner and noticed you all in the hallway. He raised a pointed finger and shouted something in Russian, then he raised his gun. You ordered your guards to shoot the man, but the damage was done. A red alert was sounding overhead.
“Let’s go,” Ben said. After lacing up his boots, he guided you with a hand on your back.
Eisenstein and three guards formed a pack of protection around you and Ben as you moved through the compound. You slowed to a stop at what looked like a laundry room.
“I need something else to wear,” you said. “Once we get outside, I’m gonna stick out—”
Ben eyed your thin gray gown and socks. He grabbed your arm and led you inside.
“Find something in here,” he said, as if that wasn’t your idea.
Instead of wasting time picking an argument, you just nodded in agreement. You looked around and picked through the large clean bin of clothing. It held several mixed bundles of faded green men’s shirts and pants. Finally, you managed to find a dark red tracksuit. It was a men’s size, so it wasn’t going to fit you, but maybe you’d look a little less ridiculous. Ben tossed you the smallest pair of boots he could find, and they were still huge. They would have to do.
“How do we get out of here?” you asked as you got dressed. You turned around for a semblance of modesty, but it didn’t stop the man from glancing over, checking out your ass, bare legs and back.
“We fight,” he replied. There was a dark note in his voice that you understood, and you agreed with him.
“I know. I mean a little more specifically,” you said. When you were dressed, you turned around and met your companion’s grim look. Together, you two returned to the hall and focused on Eisenstein.
“What’s the best way to get out of here?” you asked him. Your hold on his mind forced him to answer honestly.
“The compound is three stories underground. You must take the elevators up to the top,” he responded, almost like a robot.
“Show us,” you ordered.
The doctor complied. He led the way, and the guards covered your back as you hurried through the maze of hallways. Finally, he led you to the main laboratory. Inside were the rest of the doctor’s team trying to filter out and evacuate, while the rest of the security guards formed a line against you. You saw where the scientists were headed, to a large elevator along the far wall. 
“There!” you pointed, grabbing Ben’s arm.
He held you to him quick when the shots fired your way. He protected you with his body as the bullets bounced harmlessly off his skin, though a few of them tore through his clothes. He turned around but kept you behind him. His hands curled into fists, and he rooted his stance. You weren’t sure what he was doing, but you hid yourself behind his broad back.
Ben charged up the power that had already been building in his chest. It had started from the moment they injected him with that goddamn serum.
Now, he knew what it was. It felt like lava inside his chest—a nuclear force that he unleashed throughout the lab. It destroyed everything in its path, from desks and beakers to walls and support beams, to the men screaming and trying in vain to get away.
When it was over, Ben heaved for breath but remained standing. You peered around him in shock.
“Oh my God…”
There wasn’t much left of the lab, just a ruins, and a meager group of survivors, limping, moaning, struggling. Your face evened out, akin to stone. You had no sympathy for any of them. You endured their studies and were forced to hear their thoughts. You knew that these men weren’t men at all.
You decided to finish the job.
“Cover your ears,” you told Ben. He shot you a questioning look, his brows furrowed. 
“Just trust me,” you said.
Then you opened your mouth, and you sang. Your eyes glowed with power, and the force of your siren song gripped every man still alive in the room. They soon began screaming anew, holding their heads as tears of blood streamed from their eyes. That included your guards, as well as Doctor Eisenstein.
Ben was forced to cover his ears, gritting his teeth. It didn’t affect him as badly, but even he yelled in strain.
You released your hold on the room and stopped singing. By then, all the normal humans were dead.
It was your turn to catch your breath. You’d used up a great deal of energy in a short span of time with your powers, and your body was still weak and undernourished. You took an unsteady step forward and nearly fell.
Ben caught you around your waist. He gathered you up against his chest, and you tried to grab onto his arms and keep your head raised.
His gaze flit over your face. “Can you walk?”
You closed your eyes to try and clear the dizziness and black spots from your vision.
“Uh, yeah. Just give me a minute,” you said.
Ben made a sound of impatience. He hefted you into his arms easily. You gasped and held onto him, and he made his way across the ruined lab.
The elevator doors were fried, but the compartment still worked. Without dropping you, he wedged his hand in between the fused metal doors and ripped them open. Then he stepped inside with you in his arms.
You felt the heat still emanating from his chest. You glanced up at him. There, he met your stare. There was so much you wanted to say, and yet, you had no idea how. You wondered if he felt the same way.
He faced forward again, and you did the same. You two rode the elevator all the way up in silence.
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You asked him to set you down on your feet when the elevator finally reached the ground floor. It was merely a lobby area with some thick double doors at the end. You practically ran to it, regardless of your unsteady gait. You just wanted to breathe fresh air and see the outside world.
And it was beautiful. You teared up at seeing the gray sky and the expanse of snow-laden mountains in the distance, even though the air was freezing. A gust of wind shoved at you. You held yourself with a shiver and a gasp as you stared out at the expanse of snow ahead. You weren’t dressed for a cold snap in Siberia. 
Ben wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you back. You doubted he felt the cold much with his invulnerable skin. For once you were jealous.
“Come on, there’s a car over there,” he said, pointing to a small parking lot.
The only scientist who escaped the lab was trying to thrust his key into the door lock of his gray sedan. His hands were shaking badly, but he managed to get the key in. A heavy hand fell on his shoulder.
The scientist slowly looked up, and he saw Ben’s grim reflection in the window.
It was the last thing he saw.
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You and Ben bickered over the navigation to the closest airport. You had the map in your hands, not that you could read it very well in Russian, but he claimed his instincts were leading him south. You once again wanted to throttle him.
You eventually figured out the way to the closest international airport, thanks to the small image of a plane on the map. You didn’t have luggage, which made things easier, but you still needed to compel several people into giving you a pair of tickets (in coach, as to not be suspicious—through security and Customs before you could board the next flight to New York. By the time you and Ben actually sat down in your shitty seats on the plane, you were exhausted in every way.
“You can have the window seat,” you offered. “I’m probably just going to sleep the whole way.”
Ben tacitly agreed and slid in first, but he watched you lower down into the middle seat with a tired sigh. You glanced over at him.
“How’re you feeling?” you asked.
“Fine,” he answered, his voice deep and stoic as always. He opened up the bag of snacks he’d snuck onto the plane and started chowing down on some beef jerky. He offered you some, and you took a couple of pieces.
It was hard to tell what he was thinking. You felt a bit of anxiety coming off of him with your abilities, though you supposed that could’ve been from the plane gearing up to take off, finally getting you guys the hell out of here.
Or maybe, like you, flashes of the past decade were still filtering through his mind, making this moment seem unreal.
We actually did it. We made it out.
Even so, you weren’t sure what he saw when he looked at you. The last time you two had truly spoken, you’d said a lot of hurtful things, even though many of them were hard truths he’d needed to hear.
“Yes! It is your fault. Because you’re too much of a mean, callous, arrogant, entitled, selfish, fucking asshole to see that everybody hates you!”
“The only thing I really wanted from you was what you could do for my career.”
You remembered the sound of his voice, not even angry anymore. Just resigned.
“It was all an act, huh?”
“Yeah, it was,” you said. “I fucking hope I never have to see your face again.”
The memory of it made your chest sting. It also filled you with questions you were almost afraid to ask.
Did he resent you? Hate you? Was this Bonnie and Clyde escape plan just for convenience’s sake, or…did he actually care about you, deep down?
As you thought about what happened yesterday in his cell, the way he’d saved you from Eisenstein’s experiment—the serum that created the damn nuclear bomb in his chest—you had to wonder…
If he didn’t care about you, why else had he saved you? 
The question continued to revolve in your mind, like discordant notes on a stanza’s refrain, until your exhaustion claimed you.
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Flashes of memory scored through your subconscious. They filled your dreams with echoes of pain and the sound of your own voice giving out.
You woke with a start, heaving for breath as panic rose high in your chest and throat. Your heartbeat was pulsing in your ears, and you felt clammy and wrong.
Ben whispered your name sharply. His grip on your arm broke you out of the haze, but it startled you as well. You blinked fast, as if you could clear the nightmare from continuing behind your eyes. He glanced over his shoulder at one of the flight attendants passing by. Ben soon returned his attention to you though.
“Calm down. You’re going to blow our cover,” he said.
You nodded shakily, but you couldn’t help it. Tears welled up in your eyes and made your lips tremble.
“What if they come after us?” you whispered. You were even trembling in your distress. “What if they find us—”
“That’s not gonna happen,” Ben said sternly. “We Kentucky fried all those Commie cocksuckers.”
“I can’t. I can’t go back,” you said, shaking on every word. Your fear, your panic was rising, making your hand clutch at the front of his shirt.
Ben’s frown deepened. He turned toward you and took your face in his big hands, earning a gasp from you. Your watery eyes met his firm ones.
“You’re not going back,” he said. “That shit’s over, you understand me?”
Tears continued to slip down your cheeks, but you gave a jerky nod. He didn’t seem satisfied.
After a moment of hesitation, he pulled you in for a hard kiss. Your breath hitched…but your eyes fell closed. You didn’t care that his scraggly beard rasped against your chin. All you could do was focus on the familiarity of his lips moving against yours.
He pulled away slowly, with him seeming to try and gauge your reaction. Your eyes slid open and met his. Your fingers tangled further in his shirt, and you tugged yourself closer, your lips nearing his in askance.
He answered you, kissing you again.
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Landing in LaGuardia Airport was even more of a shitshow than it used to be. A mess of people and traffic and tourists and resident commuters, it didn’t matter that it was at one in the morning. Cars honking and people jabbering and the clanking of suitcases rolling across the ground as airport staff droned instructions on the overhead speakers; it was all discombobulating for you, after having spent so long alone and in the dark, with minimal interactions or stimulation.
You had a feeling you weren’t the only one a bit overwhelmed. You noticed Ben’s tense expression and tight shoulders. His head turned at every sharp sound…and even sounds that weren’t there.
You stayed close to him as you two found your way outside the airport. You watched out for him silently, while he kept a hand on your lower back. Neither of you seemed to want to lose each other in the throng. He managed to hail a cab, beating out a businessman who was busy talking on some kind of cordless phone.
You and Ben shared a bewildered look on that one.
Once you were in the cab, sitting beside Ben, you let out a breath of relief. It was still cold in April, and your overlarge tracksuit wasn’t cutting it.
“Where to?” the cabbie asked. You glanced at your companion and gave him a raised finger, imploring him to follow your lead. You had an idea.
“Take us to the nearest department store,” you said.
“At this time? All the stores are closed,” the cabbie replied.
“Just do what she fucking said, all right, pal?” Ben said, none too gently. He was already on edge from the long flight and antsy to get somewhere comfortable.
“Okay, man. Jeez,” the cabbie muttered. He drove off, peeling away from the curb and merging into traffic.
You couldn’t fault Ben; you felt the same way. You laid a comforting hand on his thigh. He glanced at you and calmed, somewhat. He raised his arm and draped it over the back of your seat. You tentatively took it as an invitation, so you scooched over a little to rest against his side.
Letting out a long breath through his nose, he looked out the window at the passing scenery of the city. The nightlife all flashed by in familiar colors and sounds of cars honking and music playing in the distance. Meanwhile, his fingers brushed along your shoulder absently. As the car’s warmth seeped into your bones, you tried your best to stay awake.
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You and Ben broke into Sears via the backdoor alleyway, next to one vile smelling dumpster. There you veered off into separate ways in the department store.
You chose to grab a cart before you went into the women’s section. You started with the bras and panties and pulled things off the display tables and hangers, regardless of their price. Dear God, I’ve missed real underwear. You even grabbed a few silky, lacy things in the lingerie section, with a secret smile over your shoulder.
You grabbed a razor while you were at it, along with some other toiletries, shampoo and conditioner, a generous pile of makeup, and some other hair and body products.
You later perused with a half-critical eye at the rest of the women’s clothing. Apparently, jeans were a lot baggier in the ‘90s, and you were finding too many crop tops and overalls.
What the hell is this decade? you thought, but you managed to find a few outfits you liked that were still versatile enough to mix and match. You didn’t know when you’d be able to do this again.
Within the hour, you met back up with Ben, who was carrying all of his clothing finds piled up in his arms. You smiled in amusement. Typical man.
He dumped it all into your cart—a few pairs of pants and shirts and jackets and shoes, and even a men’s electrical shaving kit.
“Good call, lumberjack,” you said, eyeing his beard. Ben shook his head and ran a palm over the sheer length of it.
“Let’s just get the fuck out of here,” he grumbled.
“Ooh, wait,” you said, pointing at a row of suitcases. “That’ll make this easier.”
He agreed. Soon, you had each picked out your suitcases and packed them with your finds. Then you literally rolled out the way you came.
You paused at the door when you heard a clicking sound, followed by the handle turning. A security guard was just as surprised to catch you and Ben as you were to see him. But before he could even raise his gun, you stepped up and touched his face.
Sleep, and forget.
Within seconds, the man’s eyes rolled up into his head, and he slumped to the floor in a heap.
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Ben had the next idea of where to go, after hailing another cab. You went along with it, but you thought he could’ve picked something a little more…inconspicuous.
Your eyes were bright, however, when you stared up at the beautiful building of the Plaza Hotel. You had never stayed here before, but it was also the home of the Oak Room. Ben had taken you there for dinner a handful of times, including on your first date.
“Why here?” you asked, glancing up at Ben. He shot you a knowing smile.
“Was feeling a little sentimental, I guess.”
His hand came to rest on your lower back again, and you ventured with him inside to the hotel lobby. It was pristine, as always, with its polished tile floors and vaulted ceilings. It wasn’t check-in hour, so the place was mostly empty, save for a single front desk clerk on the night shift.
That was in your favor though. You two might’ve raided Sears for new clothes, but you definitely didn’t look like the Plaza’s typical guests. With a quasi-flirtatious hand over the young man’s wrist, you were able to compel the clerk to book you and Ben into an entire suite with a king-sized bed, indefinitely, and all complimentary of the Plaza Hotel.
“Enjoy your stay,” he said robotically as he gave you the room keys. You gave him a smile with the glow of your eyes.
“Thank you. I’m sure we will.”
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You were run down. You felt it in what seemed like all of the joints, muscles, and sinew in your body when you and Ben got into your suite. The place was lavish and beautifully decorated in soft yellows, crèmes, and beiges, with dark wood furniture, vases full of pink roses, and fine art on the walls, but all you cared about was dumping your suitcase on the floor and dropping face-first onto the bed.
“Oh my God, a real fucking bed,” you said into the clean, soft cotton. It actually brought tears to your eyes.
You managed to turn yourself onto your back as Ben rolled his suitcase to a stop beside yours. He watched you in bemusement.
“You did good, sweetheart,” he said, briefly grasping your arm as he passed by. It warmed a smile and a blush onto your face.
“What do you feel like eating?” he asked. “I’m gonna order some food.”
You shook your head and gave a dismissive wave of your hand.
“Anything. I’ll eat literally anything.”
He went to the phone on one of the nightstands and dialed Room Service. He ordered enough food to feed three of him (and one of him could be a whole dinner party). Satisfied with the promise of fast service, he hung up and started unpacking his suitcase for a change of clothes.
You sat up with a groan. “You can take the first shower. I need a minute to get situated.”
More like, gather your strength. Using your powers so much across the course of your journey back to the States had taken it out of you, beyond what you’d expected. You needed at least a few of days of solid R&R. Make it a year.
Ben eyed you as he began to unbutton his shirt.
“Or, you can join me,” he said.
You turned to face him more fully at that. Your mouth parted to reply, but you hesitated. His offer took you by surprise, even though it probably shouldn’t have.
He saw your uncertainty. What surprised you even more was that he didn’t press it. He just nodded slightly, and went into the bathroom to finish undressing. Within a few minutes, you heard the showerhead turn on.
What do you want here? you asked yourself.
It should’ve been a simple question. Somehow, it wasn’t.
But you made a decision. This time, you weren’t thinking three steps ahead. You weren’t thinking about consequences, or what people would expect of you. You just thought about what you wanted, here and now.
Slowly, you got up from the bed. You took a breath to steady yourself, and you went into the bathroom. The mirror was already fogged up with steam. Behind the shower curtain, you could hear Ben scrubbing and humming some tune to himself, making you smile.
You shed the ratty old jumpsuit from your body with slightly shaking hands. From anticipation or nerves, you didn’t know which. After stepping out of the heap of fabric, you called his name softly. You knew he heard it, because the humming stopped.
Ben pulled back the shower curtain to find you standing there, gazing up at him while biting the inside of your lip. His eyes drew down your form, over each and every bare curve. You wondered if he remembered it all with the same clarity as you did, the way his body used to fit against yours.
He reached out his hand, and you took it, letting him guide you into the shower. He slid his free hand around the back of your neck and drew you into a passionate kiss, hotter than the spray from the showerhead beating down on you both. His arm came down around your waist and he turned you around to press you against the wall.
You gasped at the cold impact of the tile, but you welcomed the heat of him. You met his each and every demanding kiss in kind, sinking your fingers through his wet, longer hair and dragging your nails against his scalp. Meanwhile, his hands were everywhere, sliding possessively up your sides, up smooth skin to squeeze your breasts, rolling your hard and sensitive nipples under his thumbs.
You arched into him with a pleased moan. It had been so damn long since you were touched. Perhaps it was a poetic form of irony that he was the last man to have ever fucked you.
Ten long years. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about his hands, his mouth, the memories and the feeling of his cock inside you, stretching you, filling you. The thought had you slipping a hand down between his body and yours, roaming down his chest and abs, just to caress the full risen length of him in your palm.
He groaned into your mouth, instinctively pressing himself into your hand and caging you harder against the wall. His lips veered away to kiss and suck his way down your neck. You panted for breath against him.
“Ben, please,” you pleaded. Your hand pumped him faster, twisting along his shaft and goading him to full mast.
He panted with a nod, nosing along your throat. “All right, baby doll. I gotcha.”
He made his way down your body to lap at your breasts, taking a nipple between his teeth and teasing you there with the scruff of his beard. You moaned, had to release your hold on him when he took your hand and pinned it by your head on the warm tile. His other hand skimmed down your wet body to cup your mound.
You whimpered, instinctively pressing yourself into his hand. You felt his familiar smirk between your breasts, just before his thumb drew down between the slick folds of your pussy. It swept back up to brush your clit, and you jolted against his hand, releasing another moan. You were so damn sensitive already.
Ben seemed to enjoy it. He took his time working you up, strumming along and inside your slit with his fingers, making you clench on nothing in anticipation. Just when you opened your mouth to snap at him to fucking touch you already, he obliged you, slipping two long fingers deep into your channel.
You gasped and shuddered at the invasion, but it was a welcome one. He built up a rhythm, rocking his fingers inside of you while his thumb pressed and circled at your clit. It didn’t take long before your inner walls were clenching around his fingers as you shuddered your release. Your warmth coated his hand down to the knuckles.
Ben kissed you deeply, cutting off your moaning of his name. From there, he grabbed your thigh and helped you hike your foot up on the soap dish on the wall, so he could make room for himself between your legs.
He used the remnants of your slick to coat himself, before he sheathed his cock deep inside you with one push. Both of you groaned at the feeling, a sweet relief and a tight fucking fit. It was like your body remembered the shape of him.
“You still take my cock just right. Fit me like a fucking glove,” he said, sliding out of you with ease. He eased back in with a snap of his hips, inching you up higher on the wall. You clung to his arms tighter, with your nails biting fruitlessly into his flesh.
“God, yes,” you uttered.
But just when he started picking up a rougher, delicious set of thrusts, Ben faltered as his body locked up on him with the force of his orgasm. He came quickly, too quickly, for him. His brows furrowed as he caught his breath. You picked up on his surprise, and then his frustration—at himself.
“Fuck!” he growled, fisting a hand against the wall.
You were a little stunned yourself, but quickly you had to try not to laugh. Biting your lip, you reached up to stroke his cheek.
“It’s okay,” you panted. “It’s okay, baby. It’s just been a long time.”
After a few seconds of continued seething, Ben met your gaze. Seeing that you weren’t judging him, he reluctantly settled down.
“Still think I’m an asshole?” he asked.
The question caught you off guard, but you softened into a smile.
“That remains to be seen,” you replied.
He almost huffed. He slid a wet strand of hair behind your ear.
“You still afraid of me then?” he said.
Your amusement faded. You tilted your head at him, raising your brows. He was still inside you, and he asked this question?
But if he was asking you that, then he really did want to know. You grasped his chin and made sure he looked you in the eyes.
“Are you going to hurt me?” you asked, in a tone that quietly demanded. “Am I safe with you?” 
His eyes held a weight you hadn’t seen before.
“You’re safe with me,” he said.
You felt his sincerity. It rang true in his words, and you saw it for yourself. You believed him.
So you nodded. You let your hand fall to his chest. “Okay.”
He nodded as well. Finally, he untangled himself from you and turned off the showerhead, the water now run cold. He stepped out of the shower first, but he turned to give you a hand. You accepted his help as you came out and grabbed a couple of towels for both of you. After you had yours wrapped around your body, you reached for his arm to earn his attention.
He had been honest with you. You felt it was time for you to give him the same.
“Ben,” you said, with a sigh. “Back then, I lied to you.”
He snorted. “Which time?”
You gave a wry look, but you were serious. You shifted closer to him. You both stood there, dripping wet, with mere inches in between while Ben looked down at you, and you up at him.  
“This. You and me…it wasn’t all an act,” you said, as tears began to well up in your eyes. “I just didn’t want to admit it, even to myself.”
Ben hummed in contemplation. He raised a hand to draw a line down your cheek with his thumb.
“Hmm. Well. Maybe you weren’t the only one,” he said eventually.
Your lips tugged at a smile. He leaned down and met you with another kiss, and this time it was a slow, simmering heat.
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Ben took his time in the bathroom afterward to shave his face with the clippers and razor he bought. When he padded back into the dining area, by now fully clothed in a shirt and some sweatpants, he found you already eating without him. You were tearing into some chicken parmesan ravenously while watching a show on TV. 
“What’s on?” he asked, sitting down across from you at the two-seater table. He grabbed one of the plates with his steak and potatoes and began tearing into his own meal. He intended to hit the chicken wings next, or maybe the burger sliders and fries.
“Seinfeld?” You sounded unsure. “It just started. Supposed to be a comedy, I think.”
You and Ben watched the episode until the credits rolled, but he shook his head, licking his fingers after finishing his fifth chicken wing. You were drawn to the sight—grossed out, and yet, a little turned on.
“Nothing happened in that whole goddamn episode,” he said.
You were inclined to agree. So what if they couldn't get a damn table at a Chinese restaurant?
“Okay,” you checked the pamphlet TV Guide. “Let’s try…Friends. It’s on next.”
“The One with the East German Laundry Detergent,” was the name of the episode, according to the TV Guide. You actually enjoyed yourself throughout the whole thing. Even Ben laughed at some of Chandler’s lines. You hadn’t heard that rich, boisterous laugh of his in so long, it made you laugh just by proximity.
By the end of the episode, he was finally done picking at the leftover food. You had finished a long time ago, but you liked seeing him sitting more relaxed in his chair, less on edge.
“Now that one was funny,” you said, when the end theme started to play. Ben balled up his napkin and tossed it on the table.
“At least Rachel’s hot, but don’t tell me she gets with that dopey-eyed pussy.”
“Aw, you mean Ross? I think he’s cute.”
Ben shot you a glance, his brows knitting together. You couldn’t help smiling as you sipped at your glass of wine. He got the feeling you were teasing him. (And you were.)
“Come here,” he said, hooking his foot around a leg of your chair. You yelped as he dragged you close enough to take you by the arm and tip you over, into his lap. You allowed it with a laugh and wrapped your arms around his neck. His hand slid up your thigh in your little pajama shorts, while you caressed his cheek and explored the new beard he was sporting. It was nice and trim, along with the smoother sweep of his hair.
“I like this, by the way,” you said. Your nails scratched through his beard playfully. You kissed his cheek. “Very handsome.”
Ah, there it is, the reappearance of that smug smile of his. You decided to take it down a peg.
“I didn’t mind the lumberjack though,” you teased. “I knew no one would recognize us with that shag carpet on your face.”
Ben’s face fell into annoyance. He stood, picking you up along with him. After he brought you over to the bed, he fairly dropped you down onto it, making sure to smack your ass for good measure. You squealed with laughter.
“You wanna fucking sass me? Fine,” he said, raising a brow. “I’ll just have to punish you.” 
“Nooo, don’t do that. I’ll probably like it,” you said, with both amusement and desire glinting in your eyes while you slid your arms around his broad shoulders. You slipped your legs around his waist as well, guiding his hips down against your already pulsing core. 
Ben broke slightly, his amusement peeking through.  
“I don’t remember you having such a smart mouth,” he said. You trailed your fingers across his cheek. 
“I think you’ll learn to like it,” you said, shortly before you lured him into a kiss.  
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He fucked you well into the early morning, where you two finally got some sleep. Around mid-afternoon, you woke and ate and showered and continued to relearn each other’s bodies. You spent the entire day and night in that hotel room, recuperating and healing in your own ways. 
Late that night, you rested in the crook of his arm while he smoked a blunt. You’d compelled one of the bell men to find some reefer. You knew it would help Ben sleep better, and it served to calm you down when anxiety threatened to choke you again. 
It was never as bad as it was on the plane ride over, but sometimes it hit you at odd moments. 
Are they coming after us? Does Vought already know we’re here? Will they try to ship us back?
You knew you had been careful, but anything was possible. 
You extended an expectant hand. Ben took one more puff before he handed the blunt over. You puffed a couple of times and passed it back with a cough. 
“I still don’t really like this shit,” you said in distaste. 
Ben chuckled. “You still don’t know how to smoke it, either.”
You sighed in amusement, stroking a hand over his thigh absently. You two hadn’t bothered getting dressed in hours. Cheers played on the TV—something you both could agree on.
“I need to check in with my family,” you said after a while. You missed your brother especially. God, your nephew had to be close to fifteen years old by now. The thought made your eyes water, but with a deep breath, you managed to taper it down.
You turned to the man beside you. “Do you…do you have family anywhere?”
Ben let out another long puff of smoke. 
“Anyone who mattered is long dead,” he said. He looked down at you, meeting your gaze. “You’re all I’ve got.”
You smiled a little sadly, but you grasped his hand and threaded your fingers through his. 
“But I’ve got a score to settle,” he said. The hardening tone of his voice concerned you.
“With who?” you asked. 
Ben reached over to the nightstand and put out his blunt on an ashtray. He shook his head. 
“Everyone,” he said lowly, “in that goddamn Tower.”
You frowned. You released his hand so you could turn over and face him. 
“Ben, I know how you feel, but think about this for a second.”
“It’s all I’ve been thinking about since we got out of motherfucking Siberia,” he said tersely. “Those cocksuckers are gonna pay for what they did.”
You took a steadying breath. “Okay, taking on the team is one thing. But Arthur, Stan Edgar, all of Vought? It’s dangerous.”
“And? Don’t try to tell me what I can’t fucking do,” he barked. 
You glared at him, sitting up and taking the blankets with you to cover yourself.  
“Don’t you fucking snap at me!” Your voice cracked just as firmly as his. “I’m trying to tell you to be careful. Because if not, we could wind up exactly where we were before, or worse. And I told you, I can’t…I can’t go back.”
You began to break down at the end there. Your lips trembled as your anxiety bubbled over, making tears spring to your eyes. They stung hot and escaped the corners of your eyes. 
“Ben, I can’t—” you hiccupped. 
His brows were furrowed, his jaw clenched, but now, it was less so in anger. He took your face into his hands like he had on the plane, so you’d focus on him. 
“Hey, hey,” he said, earning your attention. “That’s never gonna happen. I’m not gonna let it happen. But I am going to put all those spineless bastards into the fucking ground where they belong.”
He wiped at your tears with his thumbs. After a brief pause, he leaned over and pressed a kiss to your lips. Then another, a reassuring kiss on your forehead.
He pulled back to earn your gaze.
“Then we take it all back,” he said. “You and me.”
It took you a moment to come back to yourself. You were still apprehensive about this plan, but you knew you didn't want him to do it alone. Nor did you want to end up alone, without him. You sniffed and nodded. 
You and me.    
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 AN: 😮‍💨 Did you get hit in the feels? If yes, get ready for more of that. But after their long journey back to the U.S., their relationship is shifting now, hopefully in a more positive way (despite the tough road Ben is setting them on).
Also, there might just be a BMD easter egg in there somewhere. Did you catch it? 😉
Next Time:
More heart-to-hearts, more of "the Plan," and we get a bit more into Ben's side of things...
What time is it? It was hard to remember to keep track of that now, even with the digital clock on the nightstand. It was only midnight, but to his body, it felt like morning.
You were dead asleep. Occasionally you let out soft hums, and other semi-arousing sounds. His lips tugged upward. Still moans in her sleep.
He drew down the comforter and sheets slowly from your back. He was greeted by smooth skin, except where some marks had been made permanent. His fingers traced carefully over a rough, scarred patch of skin above your hip, as if you had been tased there repeatedly.
His jaw clenched. He could still remember the sounds he used to hear—your screams through the walls of the compound. He remembered when you eventually stopped begging for it all to stop.
▶️ Keep Reading: PART 10
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kaleldobrev · 2 months ago
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Aren't You a Little Young? (4) — The 15 Year Problem Series
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Pairing: MOC!Dean Winchester x F. Reader
Feat. Character(s): Reader & Dean Winchester
Series Summary: Needing help on a poltergeist case, you ask fellow hunter Sam Winchester for help. Despite having a broken arm, Sam agrees to help you. But, just as he’s about to head out and meet you, Dean tells him that he’ll take his place and help instead.
Chapter Word Count: 1.8k
Chapter Warnings: Cursing (2x), Age Gap (15 years), Sexual tension, Asshole Cop & Sassy!Reader
Authors Note: A prequel series to the Old Man Universe (OMU) on how Dean and reader met | Takes place a few days after Dean is cured from being a demon in 2016 (please read this post for reasonings why it’s 2016, not 2014) | A little bit of a shorter part | As always, thoughts are in italics and the "POV's" switch between Dean & Reader | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡
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⋆ The 15 Year Problem Masterlist ⋆
⬸ Go Back & Read Chapter 3
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The first night (well, night was a strong word, as when the pair of you ended up finally going to bed, it was close to sunrise) sharing a bed with the older Winchester brother wasn't as awkward as you expected it to be, but the entire time you were afraid to move a muscle, as you didn't want to accidentally roll over and spoon him. But you couldn't help but wonder what he would have done if you did that. What kind of excuse would you have come up with? Would he have believed you?
You kept your back toward him, and from your peripheral, you noticed that he also kept his back toward you. You wondered if he usually slept on his side, or just stuck to that way of sleep in order to give you as much sleeping space as possible.
When you woke, it was almost 9 in the morning; a lot later than when you usually woke when on a case, but you figured you must of needed the sleep because you got four hours instead of your usual two.
You reached out your hand at the empty spot next to you, and it was still slightly warm. You felt a slight sadness, hoping that Dean hadn't left you alone in the motel room. You hoped that he would have waited for you to get up before doing anything. Then again, you didn't completely know how the man operated.
The sound of shower going on made your heart skip a beat, and you felt weirdly giddy knowing that Dean hadn't left you alone in the motel. But as you heard the shower running, you could hear something else coming from the bathroom. Is he...humming? You questioned, and then you smiled, thinking how adorable it was that someone like Dean sung or hummed in the shower.
Rolling onto your back, you looked up at the ceiling for a moment, smiling at the situation. For the first time in a long time, you felt at peace; you were happy. But that happiness and smile quickly faded when reality started to sink in. Dean was not your boyfriend, and he was never going to be. Once this case was done and over with, you'd have to go back to your apartment to your actual boyfriend. A boyfriend who you were planning on breaking up with the moment you stepped past the threshold.
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Dean was barely able to get any sleep because of you. Not because you were tossing and turning, but because of how close you were to him and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. You were barely a foot away from him, and all he wanted to do was reach out and touch you; bringing you close to his chest and feel your skin against his. He wanted more than anything to just stroke your cheek and give you a forehead kiss. Maybe when the case was done and over with, he could somehow find an excuse to hug you at least.
He needed to stop with the fantasies of you and him together. It was never going to happen. You were never going to actively choose to be with him, or someone like him. Maybe if he wasn't a hunter, then maybe he would of had a chance with you. Then again, if he wasn't a hunter, maybe he would have never met you in the first place. That's when he started debating with himself about whether or not meeting you was the best thing to happen to him in a while or the worst thing to happen to him in a while.
Dean sighed, shutting off the water as he prepared himself to face you this morning. He was lucky when he woke up, because you were still sound asleep next to him. You were completely curled up, and you looked so peaceful.
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The ride to the police station was quick, yet painful, as he was in another confined space with you. Your perfume or whatever you wore that smelt citrusy and woodsy at the same time kept hitting his nose throughout the drive. At one point, he held his breath so he couldn't smell you, because you smelt absolutely intoxicating to him. The urge to pull over and kiss you kept hitting him.
But that was not the only part of the drive that was torture for him. During the drive, you sang along to whatever music he had playing: Zeppelin, AC/DC, Johnny Cash, you name it. You knew every single word to every single song that he played. Did Sam put you up to this somehow to make him feel better after months and months of being a demon? He shook that thought quickly out of his head, as you being a siren made the most sense to him. Then again, Sam did like to fuck with him sometimes...
Out of nowhere, you turned to him, a soft smile on your lips. "So, I was thinking, after we go talk to some of the cops and hopefully get some files at the station, we go back to that diner and actually have a sit down meal together?" You asked. The question you asked him was so innocent, but yet, he sensed a slight romantic intention behind it. Were you flirting with him? No, you couldn't have. You were dating someone and you were 15 years younger than him; there was no chance that you were. But in order to survive, he needed to say no, as much as he wanted to say yes.
"Sure," he said, and mentally cursed at himself.
"Awesome," you said, keeping that same soft smile on your lips. You turned back to the window and looked out, resting your chin on your hand as you continued to quietly hum to Deep Purple.
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"Hi, I'm Special Agent Shaw, and this is my partner Special Agent Hanniger. We're here in regard to the three murder victims you've had in the last month," you stated, both you and Dean flashing your respective badges.
The officer looked at you and Dean a few times, before a confused look formed on his face. "Aren't you a little young looking to be a federal agent ma'am? You look to be jailbait to me," he said, half chuckling to himself.
All you wanted to do was roll your eyes at this jailbait comment, and reprimand him to making such a comment, but you had to keep your composure. Unfortunately, this was not the first time you had heard such a comment, and it probably wouldn't be your last.
Out of your peripheral, you noticed that Dean was about to speak, but you quickly started talking, as you felt defending yourself would sound better coming from you, than him. "Why thank you Officer. I really appreciate that comment, because I can tell that my skin care routine is really doing wonders. But, just so you're aware, the minimum age to be a Special Agent is 23, and since I first applied when I was 23, and have been a Special Agent for the past five years, I am not what you call jailbait by any means. You can even ask my partner here, as he's been my partner all five of these years."
You flashed the officer a smile, the kind of smile you gave people to let them know that you were not going to be dealing with their bullshit. Silence fell between the three of you, and out of your peripheral, you could see Dean smirking, like he was impressed by you. "Whenever you're ready, we'd like to see those case files," you said.
"Um, right, right. Uh, this way Miss...I mean, Agent. Agent," the officer said, stumbling over his words, embarrassed by the confrontation that he probably wasn't expecting from someone like you.
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Dean couldn't help but experience such an intense amount of joy in the way you spoke to the officer; as he couldn't have been more proud. There was a part of him that wanted to give you a pat on the back or give a thumbs up, followed by a 'that's my girl,' but he knew he couldn't do that. You weren't his girl; you weren't his anything.
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“This is Special Agents Shaw and Hanniger,” the officer said, introducing you and Dean to the coroner. The officer looked at the two of you again. “Jones here can answer any questions you have,” he said, directing his comment to you and smiling.
“Thank you,” you said nodding, as the officer headed back up the stairs, leaving you, Dean, and the coroner alone in the basement.
“Special Agents?” Jones questioned, placing his pen down on his desk. “Why does the FBI have an interest in these cases? They’re pretty cut and dry.”
“If they’re so cut and dry, why haven’t you released a cause of death yet to the public?” You questioned.
The coroner sighed. “We’re trying not to worry the public by releasing the causes,” he explained. But you weren’t taking that as an answer, as you felt that there was a deeper reasoning behind it.
“Meaning?” Dean asked, joining the conversation.
“I’m assuming the both of you read my reports,” Jones said, eyeing the two of you. You did, but you weren’t sure if Dean had the chance to glance at them at all before he switched places with Sammy.
“Yes, but your files didn’t have a whole lot of detail to them,” you stated.
“Not much I can write when the cause of death is something that’s completely unnatural for the body to do,” Jones said. “How do you explain to three separate families, that their loved ones had all of their blood drained from their bodies with no forced entry, no signs of a struggle, and no markings to indicate where the blood was drained from? If you know, I’d love to hear it.”
“Can we see the bodies?” You asked, and the coroner shook his head. “No?”
“They’ve already been cremated,” he said, almost sounding disappointed.
“Already? It’s an open serial murder investigation and the last murder happened not even three days ago.” You found it strange that there was not even one body that you and Dean could examine for yourselves.
“Although we have no leads, we wanted to give the families closure,” Jones explained. “Or do you not believe in closure Agent Shaw?”
“I do. But I’m not sure how you expect us to help you, when we don’t even have a single body to look at to see if you missed anything.” You were starting to become frustrated, annoyed at the coroner, even though you knew he was just trying to do his job — even if it was a lousy one.
You took a deep breath, and Dean took that as his cue to continue the conversation. “Can you give us copies of the autopsies you performed?”
“Yes, I can make copies for you,” Jones said, getting up from his desk. “The witness statements as well?”
“We’ll take anything that’ll be useful in finding a possible lead,” Dean said, and Jones nodded, leaving the room so he could retrieve copies of the reports.
Once the coroner left, you turned to Dean, slightly sighing. “I could really go for a beer right about now. How about you?”
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⤑ Move Forward & Read Chapter 5
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vicariousresearcher · 6 days ago
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part 1 part 2 part 3
Johnny whose just gotten out of a coma and has been put in rehabilitation. Who’s in and out of so many different specialists and exams and anything else the doctors can stick on him. 
A miracle they say-the doctors, his mother, Price- and it is. But not by science. God knows if science wasn’t what dragged him out of his mind. No it was his angel. Pulling him out from the purgatory of the last two years and back into the realm of the living.
That’s why he requests to have you back as his nurse even though his in a different unit. 
His family coos and says they’ll ask and his mother talks about the lovely fruit basket she gave to your unit as thanks for taking care of her son so well.
Nothing happens.
“She’s not orientated for this floor” is the excuse given.
He asks Price later that evening and the man just nods. Gruff voice saying that he’ll ‘figure something out’.
…..
You thought that since Johnny was very clearly a rehabilitation patient that your aid with him would be limited beyond transferring him to the new ward. After all, you were longterm care.
Yet somehow you find your shifts changed at the last minute. Out of your sleepy bubble into the bustling rehab unit. After doing poking around you’re told admin was making room for some student in long term care.
Unfortunately rent money is more important than trying to fish through lies. 
…….
Johnny didn’t say anything when you came into his room to give meds. Just smiled and accepted them with trembling fingers. 
You’d never say anything but it was unnerving seeing him awake. Moving and looking and talking. So long he laid a corpse. The heart monitor and ventilator as much of his body as his skin was. 
Part of you had been dreading interacting with him since you were sure he had something to do with your unit transfer. With how he was acting it’s clear he barely even knew who you were.
Just another clingy family you guess.
……
“Come on. There you go. Breathe. Breathe.”
Even and controlled as you grip the belt around his ribs. His muscles burned from atrophy, every movement weighed and unsteady. Arms over your shoulders so you can transfer him to a wheel chair.
“Keep your weight on me. Don’t worry, I can take it, good good.” 
Every praise was clinical. Practiced. 
But God his head was swimming. You were so close and touching him and encouraging him and his heart was hammering in his chest in a way that made the monitors freak out and in turn you. 
The feeling of your hands splayed across his ribs. So small he realizes.
Chewed nails on dainty hands. Shoulders so narrow compared to his chest. His face is level with the top of your head to allow him to smell that cheap, fruity shampoo. 
You always seemed like a looming, otherworldly figure. Always having to bend down to help him. Always above. Ethereal and commanding. 
Yet in reality you were so small. Like a bird. Hollow-boned and fragile. Easy to press his thumbs in till your skin split.
Even once he was settled into the wheelchair and another nurse started taking him to his appointment all he could think about was how perfectly you fit against him.
Like you were made to be there. 
He motioned his fingers into a shaky cross, looking up to the tiled ceiling. Father, Son, and the Holy Spirit…
God truly had made an angel just for him. 
…….
Just as you rounded the corner you sit down and get through your stacks of charting you make eye contact with Mrs. Mactavish. Face all ruddy and bundled up like she’d just came in from outside. The way her eyes lit up should’ve been your first sign something was up. Scratch that, the fact that Kyle was there right beside her should’ve been a warning sign.
She made bubbly small talk with you, asking about your shift, talking about her daughters, mentioning how she’s already planning her garden for when the snow melts.
“I’m sure Johnny will be excited to have his own this year. Since he’ll actually be home this spring.” Kyle cuts in, looking down at Mrs. Mactavish with eyes so soft they might as well have been toffee.
“Johnnys going home?” You blurt out without thinking, eyes narrowing in suspicion. Takes you a second to recover and say something that seemed less condescending. 
“That's, urm, wonderful news. I’m glad he's progressed enough to continue the recovery process at home with you.”
The way she started looking nervous and glanced up to Kyle was less of a warning sign and more of an alarm. 
“Oh, dear, I’d love to be able to take my boy home but it’s just not looking like it’ll work out that way.” 
“I live in the countryside,” she explains, eyebrows knitting together. “And Johnny's sisters are already so busy with their littles......”
Every word seems to get her more tentative yet hopeful, looking at Kyle who puts his hand on her back. Soothing circles made with his palm. ‘You’re making the right choice’ is what you can practically hear being passed between them.
“Have…..have you ever considered doing at home care?” 
…….
You’re in the parking lot leaning against your car bumming a smoke from your friend rambling about the whole situation. About how odd it all is, how invasive the family is, how those friends of his can seem friendly one minute and so fucking sketchy the next. 
And of course there was the job offer sitting in your metaphorical mail box.
“And my fucking boyfriend, oh my god-“ you drag your hands over your face, smoke burning your nose when you exhaled too shallowly. 
“Every time I talk about any of this he gets so weird. I literally can’t even bring up work without him being all pissy and snide bout asking about my ‘little boyfriend’. He’s got some complex. I think he thinks I’m like cheating on him with Johnny or something???” 
You take a drag off the cigarette before passing it back to her, jamming your hands in your pockets. Tension radiating from your body language. 
A heavy sigh leaves your mouth as you look back to the hospital doors. Just got off shift and you really don’t want to have to go home with this hanging over your head. 
“I haven’t even mentioned the in house care position because that would just set him off.”
Your friend just laughs, letting you continue on with your rant because truly it seems like you just need some form of outlet before you get in your car and commit vehicular manslaughter.
Meanwhile Simon is parked a couple spots away, sat in his pickup with the window cracked down a couple inches. Already messaging Price about the little issue they need to take care of.
Anything for their boy.
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ssaaaronmontgomery · 1 year ago
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Mon I think Aaron got a pair of old man (dilf) style reading glasses and at first he’s embarrassed to wear them with the team bc he knows Morgan or Dave will tell him he’s getting old BUT when he wears them at work he notices you get unable to focus in the team meeting and you’re all dazed basically until he takes them off and tucks them away but bonus point that this interaction makes him feel very desired and wanted 😵‍💫 and maybe he’ll show them off to you in private later 🤫
The Glasses
Warnings: Pining?? Sort of?? Maybe idk. Nothing smutty but there are some implications. This is like borderline nsfw? Maybe??
Word count: 1.1k
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!bau!reader
A/n: Omg yes. We love dilf glasses on Hotch. He already looks so pretty and desirable but something about glasses on him is different and I need it. I wouldn't say this fic is necessarily nsfw. But I might be willing to write a part two where it becomes smutty. I'll leave this as sfw unless I come to the conclusion that it should be marked otherwise.
Tags: @criminalskies
Forever tags: @greg-montgomery @boredelle
You're completely distracted and it's all his fault. Him and his downright slutty glasses. The first time you saw him wearing them it was a very brief sighting as he had taken them off after just a few seconds of you being in the room. And ever since then you craved to see him wearing those glasses again. They often made an appearance in some of the very inappropriate fantasies you have about your boss. They'd even worked their way into your dreams at night.
The case the team is currently working has been dragging on for a couple of days now and you've gotten basically nowhere with it. The fact that you're sitting across from Hotch as he reads a file with his glasses on is not helping you concentrate on the case in the slightest. And it's stirring something up deep inside you the more you stare at him. Aaron wearing those glasses and looking all serious as he reads is making you very horny if you're being totally honest.
"Y/l/n? Y/l/n. Y/n." You hear Hotch speak your name in a stern tone and you feel his hand grasp yours and he squeezes it. You snap out of your trance. "Hmm? Yeah, what is it, Hotch?" He furrows his brows as he looks at you and pulls his hand away now that he has your attention. "Are you okay? You've been distracted. Every time we sit here looking through files, you seem to be distracted. Is something going on? Are you alright?" Concern is clear in his voice.
What you want to say is "No, I'm not alright. I'm horny and it's your fault because you're wearing dilf glasses that make me want you more than ever. You're very distracting and if you don't put them away right now I'll launch myself over this table and kiss you before dragging you to my hotel room." But you figure that's not really the best thing to say to your boss right now. So you settle for giving him a smile and a nod before looking back down at the file in front of you as you try to force yourself not to look at the beautiful man sitting across from you.
You stare down at the papers but even though you're not looking at him anymore, you still aren't actually focusing on the words on the page because you're so concentrated on not looking back up at Hotch to steal another glance at those glasses. Though eventually you can't help it and do it anyway. You can't really stop yourself as you look back to him.
The glasses perched on the bridge of his nose as he scowles down at his papers. You sigh out loudly by accident. No one else is really paying attention to you aside from Emily and Derek sending each other smirks when they notice just why you're so out of it. But the loud sigh makes Aaron look at you again. His glasses are down far enough that he's looking over the top of them to make eye contact with you.
"Y/n, are you sure you're fine?" He asks, sounding even more concerned now.
"What? Yeah, I'm fine. Just a bit tired is all."
He stays silent as he observes you for a moment before nodding and going back to his reading.
This continues as the team starts throwing ideas around. Aaron keeps an eye on you throughout it and he knows your excuse of being tired, while partially true, is definitely not the main reason for your behaviour and he just can't pinpoint exactly what it is. But he realises it must have something to do with him as you can't keep your eyes off of him, and only him. You're not having this problem with any of the other team members. Not Derek, not JJ, not anyone but him.
He goes back to your previous statement about being tired once everyone goes back to sifting through the numerous number of old reports and files from the precinct as you all try to come up with a group of suspects.
Hotch speaks up when he feels your eyes on him again. "Would you like me to get you a coffee? I know what they have here isn't very good, but it might wake you up a bit." He glances up at you as he waits for your response. "Yeah, sure. That's probably just what I need."
He nods and stands, in the process he removes his glasses and sets them down on the table. He notices how your eyes follow the glasses and that's when pieces start coming together in his mind. He figures he'll test it out when he comes back.
He leaves and comes back a few minutes later with your cup of coffee and sets it down in front of you. You thank him and he nods then sitting back down. This time, leaving his glasses off. In fact, he actually puts them away so they're out of sight entirely.
This seems to change things. You're more focused on the work. You still give him the occasional glance but you're not full on staring at him with drool practically spilling out of your mouth like you had been earlier.
He leaves the glasses put away and he tries his best to read without them like he used to. He'd known he had needed glasses long ago but he refused to wear them because he didn't want his age to show. He knew he would get some teasing remarks about it from Dave and Morgan. But eventually, it got to the point where he could hardly do the reading part of his job. So he reluctantly had his eyes checked and soon he was wearing glasses that made it far easier to read.
He didn't like the glasses in the slightest. They made him feel old and he didn't like that. But the way you looked at him when he was wearing them, that did something to him. It made him want to wear them.
Unable to work without them, he gets them back out and puts them on. It's hard not to notice the way you immediately look back up from your work. He pretends not to see it.
Over the next half hour you can't help but watch him like he's the most interesting thing you've ever seen. You're fixated on him. And now he is sure it's the glasses that are doing it. He has to bite back a smile. Knowing you apparently find him so attractive with them on makes him feel good inside. He doesn't understand why you would like it, but it's extremely clear that it's doing something for you. He's tempted to show up at your hotel room later to explore this further and see just how much you like them.
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junicult · 2 years ago
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Could you write about what it’s like when the bachelors and the farmer decide to try for a baby? Either the conversation they have about it or when they actually TRY 😉. Or both… No pressure tho! I love your work!
!! trying for a baby with the bachelors.
contains ; fem!farmer. nsfw! fluffff <33. talk of children / pregnancy. mostly talk, not much smut. some smut in harvey’s, sam’s, & alex’s. farmer wears a dress. breeding kink. not proofread! i’ll add more tags later & i apologize this is a bit rushed :,
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harvey.
- alright so i basically talked all abt this on my last post,
- but i’ll happily elaborate further.
- first of all, this man dreams of being a father.
- he’s always wanted to be one, and may i just say he’d be the best father?? hello???
- if u don’t agree ur lying.
- so i wanna say the topic of children was first brought up when you were only dating.
- “would you ever want to have kids one day?” you ask, and it wasn’t so blunt that he was blindsided, but he was still a little taken aback by the question.
- standing next to you in his kitchen, mixing breakfast on the stove while you sat on the counter.
- he only looks at you for a sec, because ever the overthinker he is, he’s afraid he’ll say the wrong thing.
- “yes, i do. one day.” he feels the need to specify, before looking back down at the pan to avoid eye contact.
- he doesn’t see your smile, or the way you softly chuckle at his action.
- “me too. one day.”
- and now he feels beyond excited. so excited that he starts to grin without even realizing it.
- i feel like that’s as far as the conversation went for now, you changing the topic to breakfast and starting to get plates together while he displayed it all.
- but ofc the thought would always stay in the back of his mind.
- bc now, when you’re married and it’s actually clear that you would want him to be the father of your child, it’s easier to have the conversation without feeling worried abt rejection. for him, at least.
- i feel like it happens one night after work, and you’re both a little exhausted and just want to be together.
- ur all clean and full after showering and eating together, just spending time w one another before u finally finish up ur tiring day in bed.
- “do you want to try for a baby?” you ask.
- my fav part abt all of this is that u always ask at the most unexpected times.
- but he’s not as shocked this time around, cus he was literally thinking the same thing.
- “do you want to?” lmfao.
- “i do. i think we’re ready.”
- say no more, cus he’s absolutely ready.
- i mean, he’s literally been ready for the last like 15 years of his life so…yeah.
- i mentioned this my last post, but i’m gonna say it again. to really get the message across.
- ur married to a doctor. ur abt to try for a baby with a DOCTOR.
- ur not just gonna fuck until you make a baby. unfortunately 😞
- he’s gonna help you figure out ur ovulation schedule. and if you aren’t for a while, obviously you’re not just gonna stop having sex, but you’re not going to be actively trying as hard until you’re ovulating.
- and when u finally aarreee 😊😊😊
- tehehehe.
- imagine he comes home from spending like the entire day in the clinic, and he’s so tired and all he wants to do is be with you.
- like he’s literally spent the last three or so hours thinking about burying his face in the crook of your neck and just holding you.
- so picture his excitement when you finished up your work super quick, made dinner, and you tell him ur ovulating liikkeeeee.
- suddenly he’s forgotten all about his annoying day.
- his arms wrap around your waist, lifting you ever so slightly to meet his height while your lips are already molded together.
- try to tell me he wouldn’t lift u bridal style to take u to the bedroom. just try.
- hands softly running up and down your body underneath your layers of clothes, kisses trailing down to your neck and collar while he piece by piece helps you out of them.
- “love these lips, these cheeks, these ears,” he whispers all the while emphasizing each feature with a kiss.
- he’s so handsy, and he won’t let you hear the end of his praise.
- prep prep prep prep prepppppps you.
- he’s so grateful to be able to have you like this, ofc he’s going to make the most of it.
- plus, statistically, a female orgasm increases the chances of pregnancy.
- it wouldn’t hurt to up the chances by giving you a few, now would it?
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sam.
- for sam, being a father wasn’t really something he spent so much time dwelling on.
- like, it’d just be a passing thought in his mind before he fell asleep,
- occasionally wondering what it’d be like to have a wife and kids, but not something he’d want to act on for at least a few years.
- he never found himself thinking about that kind of stuff, until he met you.
- and sure, you were both young, but the more he spent time with you, the longer he fell in love with you, the thought would continue to pop up way more often.
- he started to really think about it after seeing you interact with vincent.
- how his little brother would come running into your arms the minute you knocked on the door, excitedly latching onto you as his way of saying hello.
- “hey kiddo, how’s it been?” as if you didn’t see him literally yesterday.
- but that doesn’t matter, bc the way you ruffle his hair, entertaining his all-over-the-place conversation without even a hint of annoyance—makes sam feel all sputtery inside.
- it’s like vincent would be your main priority until he finished up telling you whatever it was he wanted you to know, and then you’d turn and greet your boyfriend with a small kiss on the cheek.
- like sam was secondary to the rest of his family, bc not to mention, you were also a sweetheart to jodi.
- vincent absolutely adored you. he’d always bother sam about you, asking when you’d come over or if he could tag along on your dates.
- i feel like his breaking point (if u will) was when he came home from work one day to see all three of you in his kitchen.
- his mom was teaching you how to make some special dish, and you had vincent propped on your back so he could watch.
- “sorry! i forgot you were working today but jodi just told me to wait here, and we kinda lost track of time.” you justify, face pinching in worry at his silence.
- that’s the exact moment it all clicked for him.
- he stayed dreadfully quiet while jodi finished up teaching you, and each moment you were growing increasingly worried.
- it wasn’t until you finally had alone time, and you immediately started gushing apologies when you stepped into his room.
- “i’m so sorry, sam, i didn’t mean to make it awkward for you, but your mom wanted to show me something and i was excited to learn and i dunno, i just forgot about—“
- “i wanna get married to you.”
- gn.
- you just blink back in awe, unsure of how to respond bc WHAT a bomb to drop rn.
- “…you do?”
- “so bad. i love you so much, i really want to be your husband.”
- so of course you ask him, “where is this coming from? i thought you were mad at me?”
- he just cups his hands on your cheeks, shaking his head. “are you kidding? how could i ever be mad at you spending time with my family?”
- and when he realizes you didn’t say anything, he goes all quiet and he’s like, “…do you wanna marry me?”
- duh.
- and so the topic of kids doesn’t follow long after, when you both mutually agree you want them, but at least not for a while.
- neither of u act on it until like a year after u get married.
- “vincent was asking about you. says he misses you and wants us to come over for dinner soon.” sam says, recapping his day while you wash your body beside him.
- btw, i like to think he waits until whenever u need to shower to shower with u.
- why? idk.
- anyways,
- “i’ll go visit him tomorrow. i miss the little guy,” you giggle.
- for him, he misses the way he’d see you interact with his little brother. how sweet, and kind you were. how you’d always include him in things, and despite him being a child, you didn’t really treat him as one.
- sure, you knew better then to say certain things around him, but when it came to all of you being in the same room together, you made sure he wasn’t forgotten about.
- he knows you’d be a great mother.
- “i wish we had a baby.” he blurts, a little frown on his face as he rinses the soap out of his hair.
-“really?”
- it’s not like it’s a foreign topic, but it’s still a little unexpected.
- “yeah! they’d have your hair and my eyes. with your cheeks, and cute nose.”
- he’s so cute i’m sobbing.
- you can’t help but grin at him as he goes on about how many kids he wants, and what they’d be named, and how they’d look.
- “yeah, i know vincent has jas but how cool would it be if he had another little buddy in town?”
- “i didn’t think you wanted kids yet?”
- “well, that was a year ago. we just haven’t really talked about it since.” he shrugs, and you can’t help but kiss his cute, rosy cheek.
- so from now on, ur gonna try for a baby🫡
- it’s definitely not as thought out as harvey.
- yeah, u guys are just gonna fuck until it works LMAO.
- but dare i say, you’ve never enjoyed sex like this.
- you’re all hot and sweaty, naked, hair clinging to your neck and staggered breaths all over his lips.
- “nggh, fuck, sam—feels s’good…” moaning into his mouth while he does the same, hips meeting yours at a eye-rolling pace.
- he’s already came twice, hardly enough energy to even bring himself to a third but yet somehow, here he is, fucking into you like he knows no better.
- and he won’t stop sputtering just pure filth in your ear,
- “mmgh—y’so pretty, so perfect. you’d make the prettiest babies.” “what are you doing to me? nnfuck, feels so, so good…”
- your fingers are feathered through his hair, arms wrapped around his neck to keep him close.
- you’re already so sensitive and overstimulated by the time he cums. you both are.
- so while he catches his breath, he’s holding you close and staying buried to the hilt inside of u.
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shane.
- :,).
- i feel like it’s his little secret that he’s always wanted to be a father.
- but he never thought it’d happen for him.
- and after he met you, first of all he was shocked you liked him back.
- and as time progressed, and you’ve helped with his alcohol addiction, he’s really found that he fell in love with you.
- spending all this time together, despite you being so busy.
- you always make a way to fit him into your schedule, whether it be he comes over and helps you with some of your chores, or you meet him at the saloon.
- but as time progressed, and you were both were absolutely infatuated with each other, he couldn’t stop thinking about marrying you.
- but more importantly…having kids with you.
- i think, generally, he wants to be a good father, which is why he’s always kinda wanted kids.
- he wants to try to be there for his child, and wants to laugh with them, help them when they need it, watch them grow up and stuff.
- he wants to be able to nurture someone in a way he wasn’t really able to do for himself.
- but also, he’s a little possessive🤷‍♀️
- it’s sick, and gross, but the idea of you walking around with a pretty, swollen belly and everyone gets to know he did that. well.
- and he just knows you’d be the most amazing mom. with how you care for your animals, and you’re such a hard-worker…he’s gonna lose his mind.
- so yeah, despite him thinking about it constantly, you’re still the first to bring it up.
- “…can we talk about something?”
- instantly, he’s nervous. he feels like ur gonna break up with him or something.
- “a-about what?”
- you’re in the middle of washing dishes, so you use that as an excuse to avoid eye contact.
- since you’ve been dating for many months now, long past the point of exchanging “i love you”‘s and even closer to the inevitable possibility of marriage.
- but to make it this far and find out he doesn’t want children like you do, well that would be the most painful way to end things.
- “what are your thoughts on…like…kids?”
- he blinks.
- “kids?”
- “yeah, kids. like…children.”
- he’s quietly scratching the back of his head, trying not to let confusion paint across his face but yet here he is, eyebrows furrowed and head tilted.
- “i—i dunno. they’re pretty…cool? i guess? i like them…”
- he’s just staring at you, trying to read your expression in any way to figure out what the hell u are bringing this up for.
- he’s even more confused when you just nod instead of giving him an answer.
- “is that all you wanted to talk about?”
- it takes u another like 5 minutes to finally swallow your fear, and flicker your gaze to him.
- “no, i just…well i wanted to know if you’d ever be interested in, like, having kids….of your own—in the future! not now, or, whatever.”
- he thinks ur so cute.
- the way you’re purposely angling your chin down to hide your face, and despite the fact that you’ve already cleaned the same plate like seven times, you still continue to scrub it.
- he has half a mind to laugh a little, but he knows that’s only make you feel more nervous. so he just smiles quietly to himself, looking at you.
- “hmm, having kids?” he sighs, leaning against the counter, crossing his arms like he’s in deep thought to agonize you teasingly.
- “well, considering i have jas in my life, yeah. kids aren’t so bad.”
- the puppy-dog look you give him finally has him chuckling.
- “you’d want kids?”
- “yeah, someday. but you know, having kids is kind of a two person job.“
- now it’s your turn to giggle, fixing your gaze back towards a new dish you grab to clean.
- “oh, is it?”
- “mhm. they’re hiring, too. but not just anyone can apply.”
- “what’re the requirements?”
- he gently wraps his arms around your waist, pressing against your back and lowering to rest his chin on your shoulder.
- “hmm, we’ll they’re looking for someone who’s perfect.” he presses a kiss to your cheek. “have i told you you’re perfect?”
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sebastian.
- much like sam, he didn’t really spend time thinking about fatherhood.
- it wasn’t something he dwelled on hardly, if not ever.
- he had other things to focus on, and unfortunately he didn’t really think that’d ever be a part of his future.
- and it didn’t change right when he met you.
- he really liked you for a long time before anything even progressed (nerves, i guess?)
- but eventually, you were steadily a very good couple.
- spending lots of time together, going on dates (more like ponder sessions by the rivers and beach but whatever) and just overall the early stages of falling in love.
- he’d come visit at the farm and wouldn’t leave for days. even when he told himself he needed to, it’d take him so long to actually leave.
- he spent so much time thinking about you too, that of course his mind began to wander.
- what would marriage be like, first of all.
- it didn’t take long before he decided he liked that thought. coming home to you every day, waking up with you by his side.
- his city dreams weren’t so important to him anymore. not if it meant leaving you behind.
- now, as for children,
- he didn’t spend much time thinking about it for a while. it was mostly just a passing thought in his mind.
- kinda like sam, you two definitely discussed it before getting married but it was a short, “if we decide we want to someday,” and that was about it.
- i feel like sebastian is a little possessive, too.
- he loves the fact that he’s married to you now. that he’s legally tied to you and he has a reason for wanting you all to himself some days.
- the longer you two were married, however, he had to get used to his mom’s constant remarks.
- “you know, i did build a nursery in her house, sebby. just something to think about.” robin grins in passing convo.
- which he can’t help but cringe at what his mom is implying, but he guesses she has a point.
- so as he got older, he started to think about having kids a lot more.
- because, yes, being married to him does kinda scream off limits.
- but wouldn’t having a child be even a much better indicator?
- how there’s actual living proof that sebastian is yours and you are his.
- yeah, he’s gonna be thinking about it a lot.
- “honey, are you okay? you’ve been really quiet today.” you wonder softly, wrapping your arms around his back where he laid with his face pressed against your chest.
- you know that sometimes he just likes to be alone, and it has nothing to do with you, it’s just his own personal preference.
- but he’s not usually like this. clingy, latched onto you tight while he’s lost in his thoughts.
- “hm? oh, yeah i’m fine baby. don’t worry.”
- you frown at his vagueness. “you can tell me anything. need me to step out? i don’t mind, sebby.”
- he loves u sm.
- “no! no, it’s nothing like that,” he even accentuates by squeezing you a little tighter, “i’ve just…been thinking.”
- “about…?”
- you feel him shrug, but he moves his face to bury into the crook of your neck, so you can’t see him.
- “i dunno, just like…us. i guess.”
- 😑
- “…okay…”
- and now ur kind like, sitting up to move away from him, and he’s not having that.
- he frowns, once again tightening his hold on you and burying himself deeper.
- “nothing bad, i promise.” he murmurs into you.
- “then what is it?”
- you never want to pressure him to tell you what’s on his mind, but when he’s like this, you feel like you deserve to know a little.
- he only answers with hesitation, taking long enough before you frown and squint your eyes down at him.
- “sebastian, if y—“
- “i wanna have a baby.”
- lol.
- now it gets real quiet.
- you freeze, hand pausing midway through his hair. you can almost feel the significant change in the atmosphere.
- “…what?”
- “i know we haven’t really talked about it lately, i just think it’s something we should talk about.”
- he keeps his face hidden away from yours, despite you attempting to look down at him.-
- but, if he was looking at you, he’d be able to see the smile on your plump cheeks, and how you were suddenly wrapping your legs around his torso.
- “i was thinking the same thing.”
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alex.
- okay, so for this one,
- i feel like it’d be 50/50.
- one half of me says he’d never want kids.
- he saw the man his father grew up to be, and he despises him because of it.
- it scarred him enough to mess with his relationships with past women, definitely gave him commitment issues for a long while.
- so he never wanted to be a father. he can’t picture himself as one.
- but the other half of me says the opposite.
- he’s a man, who knows what it’s like to live with an abusive, absent father.
- and despite him still being kind of young, he couldn’t stop thinking about how he’d never treat his child, or even his wife like how his father did.
- almost like he’d want to prove people wrong.
- like, not all men end up like his father. most of them can actually become loving, supportive fathers and husbands.
- that’s the side of him i like to think abt most 😇
- but, i do wanna say though, when he met you, he didn’t really think that deeply about you.
- sure, he really liked you and how sweet you are. you’d always spend time with him, and make him feel better whenever he was down.
- most importantly, however, you weren’t shy to put him in his place if he ever said anything offhanded.
- you taught him a lot, and that’s when he really started to fall for you.
- it didn’t take long to confess his feelings. he likes being bold like that, and rejection doesn’t scare him.
- after you told him you reciprocated, he was instantly excited to call you his girlfriend.
- evelyn and george already loved you, (maybe evelyn a little more openly,) so accepting you into the family was a very easy task.
- he’d talk about you constantly. he’d find any opportunity to steer the conversation to you, and run with it for as long as they’d let him.
- and don’t get me started whenever he’s with you.
- he may act all tough, and above-it all the time, but i can promise you:
- whenever you’re alone, he’s just a big baby.
- smushing his face into your chest, wrapping his arms and legs around you so he could take a nap.
- and he loves when you’d lay like that, brushing your fingers through his hair and telling him about you day so he can just listen to your voice.
- now, that being said: i feel like he’s not scared to talk about wanting children with you.
- it was probably a conversation early on in your relationship, he just steered clear from stating he’d like you to be the mother of his child.
- “yeah, i’d love to have kids one day. babies love me!” kinda thing.
- and the longer you two were dating, and the more serious and committed it became, he was all for letting you know what was really on his mind.
- “you’d be the most perfect mom. our kids would be so smart, and gentle. plus, with our ridiculously good looks—unbeatable.” he grins, pop kissing all over your face as wraps his arms around you.
- behind your fit of giggles, you can’t help but counter, “please, alex, i need get back to work!”
- and he’s reluctantly sending you off to do your job, spending the rest of his hours making himself busy at home until he can repeat it all over again when you finish up at night.
- despite him talking and thinking about it so often, much like the rest of the guys he won’t act on it until you’re actually married.
- probably like a month after you get married he brings it up, but not like he used to.
- “hmm, what do you say about making a baby, pretty?” his fingertips slide through your hair, cupping the side of your face.
- he can’t help but place one calloused hand to your bare stomach, pressing down just slightly to watch the way your eyes pinch and lips part.
- his hips were stilled, cock buried deep inside of you after minutes of teasing you.
- “nngh? whaa—“ you’re hardly coherent, head lulling into his palm the moment he begins his slow drags in and out of you.
-“aww, you’d look so pretty carrying my kids, dontcha think? let’s make it happen baby, please?” “we wanna baby, right? c’mon, we’re ready. now’s perfect.”
- he’s gently nipping at your cheek, kissing down your jaw and neck to hear you whine on top of the way he’s pressing against you.
- “c-can’t, t’much,” you whimper, eyes rolling the minute his hips snap and his pace quickens.
- “yes you can, i know you can.” his voice is breathless and low in your ear, “why don’t you let me cum inside, hm?”
- his sweet gaze has your head spinning, lower lip puckered and wobbling.
- you’re so overstimulated even the slightest movement has your body twitching, throat swelling.
- yet somehow, you’re still bringing yourself to nod slowly while he grins above you.
- “yeah, knew you’d like that.”
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elliot.
- he’s absolutely ready to be a father.
- it probably didn’t become something he actually dwelled on until he got older, but yeah, he’s absolutely ready.
- when he met you, not to say it was love a first sight but…
- it was love at first sight.
- he quickly became well acquainted with you, and spent much time with you.
- whether you were at his cabin, or he came to visit your farm, it didn’t matter.
- it didn’t take long before you started dating and fell in love.
- he’d find himself thinking about you at his desk instead of writing.
- or lying awake at night, missing you beside him and eagerly awaiting the morning when he could go and see you.
- he’d spend so much time picturing what it’d be like to have you as his wife and mother of his children.
- the topic of kids was definitely early on.
- “i’d want three. two girls and a boy. he’d be the youngest.” he hums, taking a bite out of a pomegranate you had just given him a few minutes beforehand.
- “yeah? three, huh?”
- he smiles, nodding.
- “well y’know, if she didn’t want three, then i’m fine with however many.”
- you were sitting on the foot end of his bed, while he sat beside you.
- “hmm, no, three is fine. i’m sure she wouldn’t mind three.”
- “you think?” he licks the fruit juice off his thumb behind his grin, before leaning back against the headboard.
- “oh, i know.”
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zvdvdlvr · 6 months ago
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Food for thought: secret relationship with Aaron. Not that you're trying to keep it a secret but neither of you were ready to tell the team and now it's almost a game waiting to see who figures it out. Either way even if your relationship was in the open I don't think hotch would engage in any romantic conversation or pda of any kind in the office or in the field BUT I raise you this the man is a not so secret nerd, he's well read, and certainly a romantic at heart...passing notes. Love notes scribbled on scrap paper tucked away at your desk to find. Little notes left in the books he lends you "this part reminded me of you" or even texts through the day just to say "I love you" plain and simple I could go on about this forever 🤭
HEGEHEHEGEHEHEHEH YES. TRUST AND BELIEVE THAT AARON IS A NERD AND A SAP.
Aaron took note of your favorite authors, songs, poets, and artists. Just a a casual pick-me-up (or rather Aaron hoped it helped lighten your mood), Aaron would use a designated hot pink sticky note to scribble out a little phrase from a poem you had been mentioning consistently. Then when you were off to lunch or just out, Aaron would tuck it neatly onto the bookmarked page of a book or file you were working on.
And you better believe he’d circle phrases (lightly) in pencil and write little notes in the margins of your shared books. If Aaron’s feeling particularly joking during the day, he’ll send you the link to Shakespeare’s sonnet 130 and say ‘Reminds me of you lol’. It makes you laugh every time.
And his texts during the day are so tooth achingly cute im in pain thinking about it/j. 😣😣 Aaron tends to stay away from his phone or most technology on a case, but you were involved- possibly too involved- on a case. Aaron watched your face light up as you read the message: ‘I love you, sweetheart.’
Can’t forget when you’re asleep at night and Aaron’s away for some fucking reason. He doesn’t get too detailed (he doesn’t need too!) but he’ll send you those: ‘You’re sleeping right now, so I wantes to let you know how much I’m in love with you’ texts, sleepily going on about everything about you.
And imagine making a shares playlist between you and Aaron :,). Or not even a shared playlist- you could just send Aaron a song during a boring day of paperwork. He’ll listen to it and think of you, looking at the lyrics and writing the song down for future reference just in case.
Another thing Aaron does is doodle. I know how ridiculous and absurd it sounds, but just little stick figures and a heart or a tiny recreation of a scene from a book you’d recently read. He doesn’t have time most days to actually give them to you, so he just tears them off and tuck the hot pink sticky notes and paper scraps of doodles into your desk and around your home to find for later :)
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aydien677 · 2 months ago
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OM boys dealing with an Mc that has Autism/Adhd and stims
AN; so I have Adhd and high functioning autism so this a little self indulgent
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Mc was just sitting in class when they started tapping their foot, then clicking their pen, and they quickly started looking annoyed as they rested their head in their free hand. The others were in class with them and soon saw Mc’s strange behavior wondering what brought this on.
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His initial reaction was “Which one of my brothers ticked them off this time”
Mc definitely had to explain what stimming was
Lucifer figured out accommodations fairly quickly because of Leviathan having autism 
He would probably enjoy being in the quiet rooms himself for testing and whatnot
He notices that his some of his brothers *cough* Leviathan and Mammon *cough* also stim
He definitely noticed that he stims too but won’t admit it.
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Expect one thousand and one questions after class that are too fast to process 
After explaining Mammon starts overreacting like usual 
“Humans have stimulation problems? Wait.. what does stimulation mean?”
He definitely finds that he stims too
He definitely forgot about Leviathans autism for a moment there
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Already knows what’s going on and subtly passed you one of his fidget toys 
Definitely autistic and knows it
Is  happy that Mc has the same disorder as him even if they’re on different ends of the spectrum
Definitely shares his fidget toys with Mc and shows them the best ones
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It took Satan a moment since the first thing he thought was “I wonder what they’re thinking about that made them so mad”
He gets it the moment Mc tells him they have autism and adhd
“Oh, autism, that’s Levi’s thing”
He had to do a bit more research on Adhd to understand that part
Is mostly understanding but sometimes just wonders what the fuck Mc is doing sometimes
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Is so confused at first before realizing Mc is doing the same thing Levi does
Asmodeus absolutely buys Mc some fashionable fidget toys that work as keychains
He’ll make sure they always have a fidget toy to match their outfit 
“Oh Mc, this will look so cute with your outfit!”
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It takes Beel all of three minutes to figure it out
He’s seen Levi and Mammon stim a lot before and noticed that Lucifer does so too
He may be quiet but that doesn’t mean he’s not paying attention 
He has a spare fidget toy on him that’s usually for when Levi forgets that he’ll let you use
Obviously offers a bite of whatever he was eating 
The food Will actually help because oral stimming is a thing
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The man was asleep until Mc started clicking their pen
He is definitely grumpy about it and takes the pen from them
 gives it back when he notices the murderous look in their eye
He looks away and pretends that nothing happened 
Beelzebub later explained to him what happened 
Yet again “Oh, Levi’s thing”
He doesn’t care so long as it doesn’t interfere with his sleep
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Doesn’t focus on class anymore as he wants to watch the human doing human things
Barbatos definitely tells Diavolo off for not paying attention.
Diavolo later goes to you asking even more questions than Mammon
He definitely adds accommodations to R.A.D.
If he had the time he’d do some research himself
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Already knows and is certainly prepared to accommodate
Might ask a few questions for Diavolo
Keeps some fidget toys on hand just in case
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Solomon already knows about autism and figured it out after a while
He’ll try and impress Mc with a little bit of magic to fix their over/understimulation
Definitely uses this to his advantage 
He’ll take Mc’s fidget toys without them knowing and offer them his hand to fidget with
He’ll watch as the brothers get jealous and then let’s Mc play with his hair
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cowgurrrl · 2 years ago
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More domestic Joel Miller headcanons because I can’t stop thinking about him
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When Tommy and Maria have their daughter, Joel absolutely falls in love with her. You two take turns helping the new parents out so they can get some sleep which means you get to watch Joel hold the tiny baby
He will bounce her around the dimly lit room, humming whatever song is stuck in his head, and his curls are a mess on top of his head and he looks so tired but he’s so happy
As she gets older, she clings to him and cannot get enough of him
One time you were walking through town together and you heard a very loud “UNCA JOE” coming from behind you
Joel lit up like a Christmas tree when he turned around and saw the little girl abandoning Maria to rush across the town square and into his arms
She and Ellie become fast friends and the two become little trouble makers despite their 14 year age gap
Speaking of trouble, Ellie constantly makes fun of how affectionate you and Joel are at home. On patrol, you keep it professional and barely even kiss each other goodbye. But, once you’re in the comfort of your own home, all bets are off
This man was so touch-starved for so many years but now that he has you, he is the clingiest man alive
Joel will come up behind you when you’re doing something and wrap his arms around you, kiss your neck, tickle you, whatever he needs to do to distract you
He LOOOVVVEEESSS laying his head in your lap and letting you run your fingers through his hair while you ramble about your day
Can’t fall asleep unless he’s touching some part of you
He has a horrible habit of smacking your ass any chance he gets (poor Ellie)
“You guys are gross,” she’s yelled across the room so many times you’ve lost count. Joel thinks it’s hilarious each time
“You’re gross,” he’ll accuse before letting go of you and turning to face her. “You don’t have to be so jealous. There’s enough Joel Miller to go around.” He teases before wrapping her in a big hug and spinning her around the room
Her squeals of laughter could power a whole city as she screams at him to put her down
Loves cooking even if it took him a long time to learn
You and Ellie grinned your way through some truly awful meals but he got better and now you actually look forward to when he cooks
Teaches Ellie how to cook even though she’s more impatient than he is
You manage to snap a Polaroid of the two of them at the stove with their backs to you and under it you wrote “Chefs Miller + Williams”
Oh my god the nicknames they would come up with for each other
Ellie Bellie was the first one and then it quickly divulged into Elle Belle, Bellie, Smellie, Smell, Elle, and so many more
At one point, you were each calling her Beleanor Roosevelt
Joel’s nicknames get cycled through pretty quickly: Joey, Jo Bro, Joel Bowl, Bowl, Grumpy McGrumps (curtesy of Ellie), Goel (Joel’s drunk alter-ego) and whatever else ends up sticking
Joel is one of the most intelligent men you have ever met and you would (and have) trusted him with your life but Jesus Christ is he oblivious when Ellie starts dating
Sarah wasn’t really interested in dating so Joel never had to talk to her about anything but with Ellie EVERYTHING is different
Ellie never really came out in the sense that she never sat you two down to have an emotional conversation. She just kinda came home with Cat and told you she was her girlfriend
You were being a typical protective figure for Ellie and asked Cat lots of questions but even then you weren’t sure if you thought Cat was right for Ellie. Joel, however, was surprisingly quick to welcome Cat and didn’t have any qualms about Ellie dating
When you asked him about it later, he shrugged and said, “I think it’s nice that Ellie has good girlfriends like her”
“No, Joel. Cat is Ellie’s girlfriend not a girlfriend”
“I’m lost”
Once you explain it to him, he goes into Ellie’s room and they talk for a long time about God knows what
Joel Miller may be from Texas but that man supports his daughter, no matter what
Neither of you ended up being a huge fan of Cat but once Ellie and Dina start dating, it’s over
Joel invites Dina over for dinner every chance he gets and embarrasses Ellie each time but Dina loves it
Subtly tries to teach Ellie love songs on the guitar
Ellie subtly lets him
You subtly fall deeper in love and the life you have built with them
In conclusion, Joel Miller would be the sweetest little domestic guy if given the chance.
Give me my last paragraph back or give me death 🍓🍓🍓
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nburkhardt · 2 years ago
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Part 1
Wayne Munson can read a person within a few minutes when being in the same room together
So when he comes home from work one evening, he immediately clocks an upset Steve. It’s not even surprising to see the boy in his living room nowadays. What is surprising is that his nephew is no where to be found. Neither of them speak as he takes his work boots off and jacket, then makes a quick cup of coffee and settles in the recliner.
“So, why’re you upset? My nephew forget a date?” He sips at his coffee and watches Steve tense up, he can tell the boy is holding himself back from looking towards him. It makes Wayne pause, clearly something is actually wrong. “This serious, boy?”
It doesn’t take a genius to see how much whatever it is, is really effecting Steve. It’s the way he holds himself back, even with being hunched over. How tense his shoulders are, that his hair is a mess and how he’s clutching his hands. Truthfully, Wayne can tell the boy is trying hard not to cry.
The day he officially met Steve Harrington within five minutes of talking, he grew a soft spot for the boy. It wasn’t with the way he talked about how much he liked Eddie or the way he held himself. It was because of the longing in his eyes when he thought no one was looking.
They were in a hospital waiting room, Eddie was still in surgery and Wayne had shown up to a room full of kids. The reporter girl had pulled him aside to explain what was happening and he was listening to her but glancing around the room when his eyes caught sight of a young man sitting on the floor with his back against the wall and his eyes were trained on the sight of a kid with curly hair in the arms of a woman. To anyone else, it would just be a friend watching someone else.
But to Wayne? He knew what longing looks like. Has seen it many times in his life. Especially in Eddie. The biggest difference between Steve and Eddie? His nephew learnt to hide that look, figured out how vulnerable it can be.  With Steve it’s noticeable, and, it seems he wears his emotions like a jacket. It’s there and open for all to see. With all that, he immediately knew that he’ll be there to care for Steve in anyway he’d want.
He also knew, as soon as Eddie was able, that he’d be right there with him. Fast forward a few months, Wayne was correct when Eddie told him about his first date with Steve.
“I, uh. I asked him” Steve mumbles out without looking at him, “it- didn’t go as I planned”
Nodding, he places the cup down and leans forward. It’s a serious type of talk, it seems. “What happened?”
Steve shakes his head and he catches a quick sight of red teary eyes, “I told him about a gift and he panicked, thought he missed an anniversary or something. Then when I tried to ask him, it was someone’s birthday and the waiters were singing loudy. Then, then, I lost my plan and just said if he wanted to share his last name.”
He chuckles at that, but it dies down when Steve finally looks up at him. He looks just absolutely heartbroken and close to breaking completely. Schooling his face, he leans forward to grip Steve’s shoulder. It snaps his attention and Wayne’s thankful for it.
“Steve, why don’t you relax? Try again another-“
“He thought I was asking if you’d adopt me!”
Once it’s said, it’s silent. Steve’s tears have broken the invisible barrier and falling down now, it’s breaking Wayne’s old heart. Makes him want to smack Eddie upside the head for being an oblivious idiot.
“Look, how about ya go take it easy and I’ll wait up for Ed. Love that boy but he can be a bit oblivious.” Wayne shakes his head before nudging Steve’s shoulder again, “that ring of yours will get on his finger, son. Just let me talk to him”
Steve just nods, wipes at his eyes and makes his way towards Eddie’s room. Glancing at the clock, he knows Eddie won’t be back for another hour or two. Depending on if he starts on a rant, so in the meantime, he drinks his coffee and waits.
He hears the sounds of Eddie’s van nearly an hour later. He’s on his second cup, ate a quick sandwich and made sure to check if Steve followed his advice, which to his relief he did. With Steve asleep in Eddie’s room, he decided his best bet to talk with Eddie was driving. It eased his mind and with his boots back on he waits for his nephew to walk in.
“Honey, I’m hom- oh. It’s just you” Eddie looks disappointed and it makes a beeline to go to his room. Right before he’s able, he grabs hold of Eddie’s arm stopping him. “Wayne, come on. I know Stevie’s here and I’d like to join-“
He shakes his head and stands up, pull Eddie with him back towards the door, “Your boy is asleep, come with me for a drive. We gotta have a chat, alright?”
Eddie pouts but doesn’t move away, moves with him with a whine of, “but Waaaaayne! I wanna go cuddle my boyfriend!”
Rolling his eyes, he opens the door and waves a pouring Eddie out. “You’ll survive a short drive, Ed.”
Eddie dramatically groans but stomps out towards his truck and crossed his arms waiting. With another eye roll, he closes the door and joins Eddie before unlocking the doors. They both climb in silently and continue this as he drives away. It’s not until he’s on the road that Eddie finally says, “Why am I in trouble now?”
Chuckling, he shakes his head and instantly flashes back to when Eddie was fifteen and gotten in trouble in school for the first time while living with him. Wayne decided the easiest way to get anything out of the near panicking Eddie at the time was to talk while driving aimlessly around.
They’ve done this a few times since then. Eddie hasn’t caught on that it was a benefit to both of them. Emotional talks aren’t his thing. But he’ll be damned before he admits that out loud.
“Nah, ya ain’t in trouble, boy.” He finally tells him while stopping and glancing at Eddie, he’s bouncing his leg and tapping his fingers against the other leg. “Ed, serious, you ain’t in trouble. We’re just havin’ a late night drive and chat”
“About what? You only do this when I’m in trouble or, or when I came out to you” Eddie doesn’t stop his tapping but he does bring up the leg that was bouncing to lean against.
Wayne shakes his head, moving back to watch the road. Thinking over his next words, Eddie doesn’t bother with the radio and is still watching him. He knows and doesn’t call his nephew out for the staring.
“Look, I came home and your boy was upset,” He started off, glancing over quickly to see Eddie tense up. “We chatted, he’s been asking me things about ya. See if I’d know where your head is at.”
“Why- uh. Why would-“
“We both know your boy has a lot of insecurities, doubts and all that.” He came to another stop and looked over at his nephew, meeting his eyes before Eddie quickly looks away. “Don’t get lost in your insecurities right now, Ed”
Eddie shakes his head and pulls his other leg up to hug them, “why didn’t he come to me about whatever the problem is?”
He has to quickly smoother the smirk that wants to work it’s way on his face, doesn’t want to give away that Eddie’s worried over the wrong thing, “Wasn’t a major problem, mostly he wanted to know my opinion on a gift”
Eddie’s face is mostly hidden but his whole body tenses up. He look up at him with wide eyes, “You- you know what it is?”
He nods, looking away to drive again. “Ya, it’s gorgeous. Your boy sure knows how to pick things out. Asked if you’d like it, told him it just screamed you. It’ll go nicely with everything you own.”
Eddie doesn’t say a word and Wayne just silently drives back towards their home, it’s nearly too late.
“So- you knew he was gonna give me something?”
“More like, ask ya something. But we can go with that too, if you’d want”
Wayne pulls up to their home shortly after saying that, turning the truck off to turn and watch Eddie. Watches as Eddie thinks about it, slowly his cheeks turn pink and into full blown red as the realization hits him. If he didn’t love this boy so much, he’d be laughing his ass off.
“Oh fuck, I- I’m an idiot”
Shaking his head, he settled a hand on Eddie’s knee, “nah, you ain’t an idiot. Just a little slow, Ed. Now come on, go inside sleep and tomorrow you and your boy can talk. Yeah?”
Eddie only nods before getting out and making his way inside and Wayne just watches before following suit. As he walks past Eddie’s door he hears a soft conversation happening.
“I’m sorry, my beloved.”
“Why’re you sorry?”
“I’m an idiot, that’s why”
“Baby, Eds- no. Don’t say that, you really ar-“
“But I am! You, you were asking me to marry you and I stupidity thought you wanted Wayne to adopt you!”
Wayne shakes his head at that before making his way to his room, his job is done.
~~~~
The ring doesn’t make an appearance until nearly a week later.
Wayne can tell the boys are even closer now, that their communication skills have grown just a little bit better. His nephew is still a little slow sometimes but now they’re more clear in what they’re talking about and hardly interrupt each other during more serious conversations. Makes him proud to see it.
It’s during a family dinner when he spots the ring on his nephew’s finger. He smirks into his drink but doesn’t mention it, he also doesn’t mention anything when he spots Eddie’s ring on Steve’s ring finger.
He’s happy for his boys, and he can’t wait for the day they can actually get married. Because it will happen, they deserve it.
Annnnd that’s it!! I decided half way into writing the ending to end it within Wayne’s pov. It seemed fitting to me. I’d like to thank @i-less-than-three-you for the help with parts of this!! If it wasn’t for her, this fic actually wouldn’t be a thing lol.
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froggibus · 4 months ago
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Pride - Soldier 76, Pharah, Baptiste, Tracer, Venture & Lifeweaver
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Pairings: Soldier 76 x gn! reader, Pharah x gn! reader, Baptiste x gn! reader, Tracer & Emily x gn! reader, Venture x gn! reader, Lifeweaver x gn! reader
Genre: fun fluffy hcs
Summary: how it would be going to pride w your queer fav
CW: nonspecific relationship w the heroes, canon sexualities/genders, lots of fun pride stuff, pride festival, Soldier being an old man
sorry hi i know pride month is over but i really wanted to include it in our event so here it is! i really wanted to include lucio & other fun characters here but it was so much writing i only did the ones who are canonically queer!
This is part of my Summer Suntacular event, come check it out!
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Soldier 76:
not his first Pride, won’t be his last
he’s probably a little wistful the whole time, since he last attended with Vincent
his grumpy old man demeanor drops for a day and he actually lets himself enjoy it
all the young people there LOVE him and he ends up ‘adopting’ at least three kids
reminisces the whole time and probably says “back in my day” at least once
you may have to convince him to actually indulge in fun stuff like temp tattoos and flags
but then he gets SUPER into it and drags you around to get as much stuff as possible
gets hit on at least once by someone half his age and his face is an INFERNO for like ten minutes afterwards
wants to get drinks and appetizers at a bar after and chat about your day
will let you take one (1) picture of the two of you to commemorate it
(he’ll definitely keep the picture in his wallet—but he’ll never tell you)
Pharah:
not her first Pride either, but she doesn’t go very often cause she’s married to her work
wears her sexy ass leather jacket even though it’s probably boiling outside
“Fareeha you’re going to boil in that”
“Don’t be ridiculous, this is my summer leather”
gets one temp tattoo of the lesbian flag on her cheek and that’s it for her
shows it off in every single picture the two of you take together 
doesn’t take many of her own pictures but will indulge you for every one of yours
her strong ass will let you ride on her shoulders to see any performances you want
or if you’re not cool with that, she has no shame and will body her way through the crowd to help you get a better view
loves fruity rainbow drinks and will always have one in her hand
wears her aviators even after the sun goes down
definitely checks if Baptiste is doing anything & tries to set up a rendezvous with him at a club later
she is THE most fun to party with if you’re able to pry her away from her work
Baptiste:
more than likely his first Pride  (at least, since he’s been out of the closet)
probably ended up attending a few before and hanging out in the med tent as an ally
if he wasn’t going with you, Pharah would’ve 10000% taken him with her
super excited to be taking you with him this year 
and to actually be partaking in the celebrations
covers both of you in those cute rainbow temporary tattoos
like they’re EVERYWHERE
total mom friend—he has water, tylenol & advil, wet wipes, snacks, sunscreen & anything else you could possibly need
that doesn’t mean he’s not indulging in any fun colourful drinks at the bars later tho
indulges in any free things offered with him
and totally ends the day with like ten different friendship bracelets
wants to take pictures of EVERYTHING and ends up with a million selfies of the two of you
you’re out from 11am to 3am & you bet your ass he’s waking you up at noon the next day for brunch
wants to go next year & hand out little care bags to everyone you meet
Tracer:
her and Emily insist on taking you with them
they go every year so long as Lena isn’t working (rare)
they (Emily) have got everything figured out, so you can just chill and come along with them
Lena totally goes all out with her outfits & insists you all match somehow
they bring a digital camera to take lots & lots of pictures of everything
prepare to be outside from dawn till dusk
Lena probably gets recognized a few times and takes pictures with every person who asks
she buys a TON of memorabilia and will absolutely buy anything you look at for you
even tho she’s probably tried everything they have to offer, she wants to make sure you also try it
Emily has to stop and remind her to slow down and to eat/drink
they have some cute tradition where they go to the restaurant they want to on their first date & have some drinks and appetizers
even tho it’s their thing, they’ll gladly invite you along & make sure you’re included
and if you’re into it, Lena will absolutely try to play matchmaker for you so you’re not lonely
Venture:
huge dork ass LOVES Pride
they’re a little awkward cause of the big crowds & stuff, but deep down they thrive on it
not nearly as out there with their outfit as Tracer, but they’ll definitely dress according to theme
makes their own little bags of crystals to give out to friends they make there + coordinates them according to different pride flags
makes an extra special one for you too to thank you for coming with them
buys ice cream whenever they see a stand & offers to share with you 
at least one child asks them if they’re a boy or a girl
Sloan just shrugs at them
despite their awkwardness, everybody you meet there LOVES Sloan & they end the day with a million different pins + friendship bracelets
anytime there’s something cool, they want to take a pic with you in front of it
even just random fountains and stuff
if someone’s performing, they HAVE to go and at least check it out, but you’ll probably get dragged into watching a long ass magic show
they might take you for a drink and a snack after, but they’re not the type to go to a club or anything
more than likely they want to have a game night or marathon some movies at home to unwind afterwards
Lifeweaver:
not his first Pride, but the first one he’s been able to enjoy since leaving Vishkar
the most well dressed & insists on dressing you as well
weaves flowers & plants through his hair to make a pretty rainbow (and will do the same for you if you ask!)
lots & lots of biodegradable glitter that he made himself
wants to get there super early to offer his aid to any of the med stations set up & give them his number incase they need him
brings his own biodegradable confetti and gives bags to all the stands to hand out
loves live performances & wants to attend each one
he WILL be dancing and expects you to dance with him, no matter how awkward you feel
usually the best at remembering his sunscreen & water but probably forgets until he starts to feel the effects
wants to stay until everything shuts down and make sure everything is cleaned up correctly
so many pictures that your face will hurt from smiling for the cameras by the end of the day
his Instagram story is probably filled with those same pics
if anyone compliments his hair, he WILL offer to braid theirs with flowers for them on the spot
takes you out to a nice dinner before you guys go home
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Summer Suntacular | Masterlist | Overwatch Masterlist
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zepskies · 2 months ago
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Lost on You - Part 8
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Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Supe!Reader
Summary: 1983 is a big year for you. You’re finally chosen to join the ranks of Payback, led by the most (in)famous supe in the world: Soldier Boy. He’ll never admit that he’s trying his damndest to figure you out. You’ll never admit that he’s actually growing on you. But the problem with this game is deciding who’s the predator, and who is prey.
AN: Here we go. Diving into Nicaragua, and beyond…
Song Inspo: “Who’s Crying Now” by Journey
Word Count: 4K
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Violence, implied torture, heavy angst (and a twist ending).
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Part 8: For Whom the Bell Tolls
March 1984
When you got into Payback, you didn’t sign up to be part of a war. You knew you weren’t a soldier, and frankly, the rest of you had no business being here either. This was a CIA base, being run by a no-nonsense officer, Grace Mallory. You had no intention of getting in her way.
Nicaragua was hot and surrounded by jungle, not exactly conducive to a leather suit. You kept to the shade by yourself and watched Swatto, Ben, and Gunpowder makes fools of themselves after Grace tore them a new one. You respected anyone who could go toe-to-toe with Ben without even flinching, especially as a non-supe.
Then again, he had poured on his usual “charm.”
“You know, with a figure like yours, you are wasted down here,” he said.
You rolled your eyes. Grace didn't even give him the time of day. Stan chimed in, presumably to explain Vought’s apparent “partnership” with the U.S. military for this mission. Ben walked away from her, barely glancing in your direction along the way.
That suited you just fine. Things had been frosty between you two for the past month, but as long as you stayed out of his way, he didn’t butt into yours.
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Days later, you wanted nothing more than to go home. Sleeping in a tent was not your bag, and especially not using the restroom outdoors. Would it be considered desertion if you booked a flight home right now?
You escaped your tent with a huff, swatting mosquitos as you went. You’d tried to take an afternoon nap, but who could sleep in this heat?
“Not exactly a luxury suite, is it?” Black Noir said. You jolted, realizing he was standing just a few feet away without his mask on. It was refreshing to see his face, but you were still a bit sour toward him.
“Oh, you’re talking to me now?” you said dryly. You began walking toward the mess tent. Noir joined you.
“Well, it looks like you’re done playing your little game,” he said, raising his brows meaningfully at Soldier Boy. He seemed to be trying to chat up Mallory again.
Good fucking luck there, you thought. She already looked bored.
You turned to Noir with a flat look.
“We’re all playing a game, Irving. Just at different levels,” you said. “For example, what were you talking to Stan about?”
You’d seen them a couple of hours ago, hidden behind a fortified stone wall. Noir stopped walking. You were curious enough to follow suit.
“Something that could change everything for all of us,” he said. “You included.”
Your brows knitted together. “What’re you—”
Shots rang out in the clearing. Noir covered you when a grenade blasted the ground just a few feet away from you.
"You okay?" he asked in concern. You nodded shakily. He steadied you with a reassuring hold on your arms.
“Come on!” he said.
“What’s happening?” you exclaimed over the noise. You were terrified, and you definitely weren’t trained for this.
You let Noir lead you through the camp. When men in faded green uniforms came at you with guns, he took most of them out. You managed to duck under a man’s gun and touch his face, compelling him to sleep.
“There you are!” said Countess. She had the TNT Twins and Mindstorm in tow. For once, you were relieved to see them.
Finally you made it into a clearing where Ben was fighting with his shield at the ready. He punched out another enemy soldier who fell to the ground. He turned to see you, and then the others in your team beginning to surround him. You frowned in confusion and looked at Noir.
“What’re you doing?” you asked in worry. He glanced at you, but didn’t answer.
“What the fuck is this?!” Ben said angrily.
“Something we should’ve done a long time ago, you piece of shit,” Noir said, his tone icy and determined.
The TNT Twins attacked first. It managed to knock Ben to the ground. You were frozen in shock when Countess and Mindstorm joined in, along with Noir.
“Stop!” you said, but no one heard you. What the fuck is happening?!
They had Ben going for a minute, as their triple teaming managed to keep him on the ground…just not for long. With a grunt, he shoved them all away with a show of strength.
“Sirena!” Noir finally called to you, his gaze imploring you to help them. 
“No, stop!” you shouted back. You couldn’t watch this fight happen again. Because this time, Ben would kill him. He’d kill all of them.
You headed for Ben and Noir, but a gloved hand stopped you. It grabbed your wrist and turned you around, right into Countess’s waiting fist. You cried out and stumbled, but you found purchase on one of the stone walls. Before you could recover, she grabbed your shoulders and kneed you hard in the stomach.
Shit… You tasted blood when you went down, heaving for breath. She packed one hell of a punch in those little gloved fists.
“Been waiting for this, bitch,” she hissed from above you.
The second she got close enough, you grabbed her by her long hair and punched her as hard as you could in that fake-ass nose. Then you kicked out with both feet into her stomach. She doubled over and fell back on her ass.
You managed to roll and stumble onto your feet. You glanced over quick and saw that Ben was beating Noir within an inch of his life.
“Ben!” you shouted, wanting to stop him, but that was when Mindstorm stepped in front of you. His eyes met yours, and it became a battle of wills as he tried to shove you deep into the darkness of your inner world.
You could play mind games too though. You fought his hold, with every scrap of your consciousness, and you even managed to take a few steps forward. If you touched him, it would be over. As a man, he wouldn’t be able to withstand your own powers.
And your plan might’ve worked, if Countess hadn’t walloped you hard from behind.
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When you woke, the bare room was bright with florescent lighting and cold beyond belief. You shuddered. You were no longer wearing your supe suit. Instead, you’d been dressed in some kind of gray hospital gown and a pair of woolly socks, stripped of even your boots. At least you still had underwear.
You uncurled yourself from the thin cot you were laying on. The room held little more than a prison cot, a toilet, and a sink. You let out a shaky breath.
Where the hell…
You got up slowly, mindful of your aches and pains throughout your body. The back of your head was throbbing too, courtesy of Countess, you slowly remembered.
That fucking bitch.
There was a door with a small glass windowpane. You tried to twist the handle, but of course it wouldn’t budge. You peered out of the window and saw a long hallway. There was a door just like yours on the opposite side with a small window.
“H-Hey!” you shouted. “Is anyone there? Hello?!”
A moment later, you heard Ben say your name, calling out to you. He sounded angry, but you were close enough to sense his relief at hearing your voice. You were relieved to hear him too, at least.
“Ben!” you said, as tears sparked in your eyes. “Where the hell are we?”
“The Russians got us,” he said, though it was heavily muffled through his door and yours.
Oh shit…
“After those cocksuckers fucking betrayed me!” he shouted. You heard a banging sound, like his fist meeting the wall.
“Did you know?” he asked in anger.
“What?” you said incredulously.
“Did you fucking know what they were planning?”
You were shocked, both at his audacity, and at the way he really thought you could do that to him. To anyone.
“How can you ask me that,” you said tremulously, “when I’m the only one who tried to fucking help you?”
It finally hit you then, where you were and why this was happening. You laughed without humor, wiping manic tears from your cheeks in vain.
“Well, look where that got me,” you said. You shook your head. “God, I wish I’d never met you.”
You almost wished you could see his face. He would probably try to be stoic, but even through the walls, you sensed the discordant impact of your words. It affected him, more than he’d probably ever show.  
“You’re saying this is my fucking fault?!” he said sharply.
“Yes! It is your fault. Because you’re too much of a mean, callous, arrogant, entitled, selfish, fucking asshole to see that everybody hates you!” you spat. 
That fell heavily between you. You didn’t regret it. It was high time this man knew the truth, about everything.
No more games.
“Oh, really. You included, huh?” Ben said. “I didn’t do shit to you.”
You gaped. “You shoved me to ground! I had bruises for days. Or did you conveniently forget that part?”
“You got in the fucking way!” he retorted. But then, he simmered down slightly. “Besides, you know you weren’t the one I was aiming for.”
And that just reminded you of Black Noir, with no small measure of guilt, and just how badly Ben had beaten him before you two were captured. You didn’t doubt that Ben had killed him.
“But you still did it, and you couldn’t even look me in the eye and apologize, like a man,” you said. “Instead, you fucked a pack of whores.”
You shook your head and tried to calm your breathing. You wiped under your eyes.
“But I guess I did bring it on myself. I knew what you were the second I met you,” you said coldly. “In fact, the only thing I really wanted from you was what you could do for my career.”
That blow landed as well. You felt his shock, deep inside.
“Is that so?” he said, less angry then. More resigned. “It was all an act, huh?”
New tears burned in your eyes. They slid down your cheeks, one by one.
“Yeah, it was,” you said. “I fucking hope I never have to see your face again.”
With a shaky breath, you turned your back to the door and leaned against it. You ignored the painful lance in your heart that threatened to overtake you, along with your panic.
For a while, there was silence. It gave you a reprieve, but it also forced you to be alone with the tumultuous thoughts circling in your head.
Suddenly, the door opened. You backed up all the way to the far wall. In stepped a man in a gray lab coat, as well as two armed guards. One of them was holding a straitjacket.
“Good morning,” said the lab coat. His English was heavily accented. “Welcome to your new home.”
“Who are you?” You tried to sound firm and unshaken, but there was no mistaking your fear as your eyes darted from man to man.
“Eisenstein Sergei. I am a geneticist, by trade,” he said. He gestured at you with a smile that made your skin crawl. “You, beautiful one. You will be part of evolution.”
“Stay the fuck away from me,” you said, even as your voice trembled.
Eisenstein gestured at the guards, who drew near you. The second you opened your mouth to sing, to scramble their minds, one of them produced an extendable stick with an electric prod on the end. He tased you until you passed out onto the floor.
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As you soon discovered, Dr. Sergei Eisenstein was fascinated by supes. He wanted to figure out how they ticked, on a molecular level. So he and his team had made a deal with Vought to acquire Soldier Boy for experimentation. You were an added bonus.
For months, the doctor and his team poked and prodded, cut and burned you, testing the limitations of your advanced healing and pushing your body often far beyond its capabilities.
But they were careful. The straitjacket ensured you couldn’t easily compel any man who drew near to work on you. They all wore gloves, so they didn’t touch your skin. In some ways, their wariness was to your benefit. You were always gagged when they worked on you though, so you couldn’t sing. Eisenstein also once threatened to paralyze your vocal cords if you tried. You were too afraid to tempt him.
As rough as you had it, you were sure it was only scratching the surface of what they did to Ben.
The man was stronger, more durable. The doctor had more leeway to play with him, knowing his toy wouldn’t break.
They now kept him on the other end of the compound, since he’d broken through his first containment unit. They had gassed him with something that made him drop like a stone, putting him to sleep. You weren’t sure what was powerful enough to do it, but you didn’t want to find out.
The first time you heard him screaming, it brought tears stinging in your eyes. Your lips had trembled, and you’d rocked yourself in your cot. You couldn’t help him, let alone yourself. You were surprised to realize that you wanted to help him, even after everything he did to you—after everything you’d seen him do.
It slowly made you realize the truth in your own heart; things you hadn’t wanted to take out and examine, like muddy glass after a storm. Now, with the debris washed away, you could see what you had become, and what all your work, your scraping, your lies and manipulations had gotten you.
Nothing.
It also made you realize that you weren’t as good of a liar as you thought you were. At least, not to yourself. Not when you remembered the quiet moments between you and Ben; the times you wordlessly craved each other’s company, and you laid tucked against his side on the couch with a book while he watched a football game. Or late at night, the times when you gave into sharing a bed with him, and he stared up at the ceiling with a blunt in hand, the two of you lying naked and talking about everything and nothing until you feel asleep.  
Yes, you remembered blood and violence, callousness and cruelty toward Noir and the rest of the team. You knew that was who Soldier Boy was. That was Ben.
It was just hard to reconcile that monster with the man you’d come to know. The man who actually tried to comfort you, even though you hadn’t wanted to be comforted after that accident with a Crimson Countess fan. The man who saved you after you were beaten by a thug, and nearly worse. The man who could be funny, and charming, with hints of gentleness and affection in between.
You supposed you would never know what part of him was real.
But most of all, you remembered the things you’d said to him. You surprised yourself by feeling pinprick needles of guilt up and down your spine.
“I hope I never have to see your face again.”
 You had a feeling that you’d get your wish.
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It was six months in before Eisenstein experimented with the first serum. You vomited blood.
It took his team three more years to revise. 
You started to hear voices in your head, snippets of thought instead of just sensing energies. You lied to the scientists, keeping the knowledge to yourself. They had no way to know, so why give them more ammunition against you?
The thoughts you heard were always male, whoever was in close proximity. Your powers seemed to translate them into English, but you almost preferred it to be gibberish. Mostly the thoughts were bland, disgusting, or cold and frightening in their scientific detachment, and even their entertainment…mostly when they worked on Ben. 
It made you sick. You wished you could reach out to him, if just for someone familiar to talk to. You hadn’t learned how to do that just yet. You didn’t even know if you could. You were still figuring out how to just tune it all out when you were sick of the chatter.
Regardless, they kept him too far away, so you rarely heard his thoughts. When you did, they were mostly angry and murderous. You couldn’t blame him. 
Sometimes, just being able to feel his presence, hearing the scraps of his thoughts was enough.
You were left entirely alone with your own.
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April 3, 1994
You read the date on the magazine they’d brought for you with bland porridge for breakfast. The publication was in Russian, but you’d begun to pick up on certain words they said, and on the structure of numbers you saw them scribble in their notes. 
Ten years. You really couldn’t fathom it. It didn’t feel real…
Well, actually, it did today. You were almost done with the porridge when the doctor and three guards came in, one with your usual straitjacket.
“Finished then?” Eisenstein asked, nodding at your near empty bowl. “Good. Get her up.”
The command was in Russian, but by now you understood it. You still struggled. You always did. It was no use though. Soon they had you fitted in the jacket and a gag tight around your mouth, with just a couple of cattle prod stings to your side.
They dragged you down the hall farther than usual. You were confused when they passed the usual lab they so often took you to. Instead, Eisenstein opened a metal door.
Inside the room was Ben, strapped to a metal slab against the wall. He was bound in every way, and fully naked. He also had a long, unkempt beard, but you’d recognize that face even in your sleep. Your eyes widened when you met his, your breath caught in your throat. His face slackened in surprise as well.
You hadn’t seen him since before the beginning of the nightmare.
He’d barely aged at all.
The spell of it broke when you were slammed down onto a cold, shiny table. It felt hard as titanium, and you cried out at the impact.
You managed to raise your head. “Ben!”
It was muffled through the gag, but you knew he understood you. His brows furrowed. He looked up at Eisenstein in a glare.
“What the fuck is this?”
The doctor held a glass syringe in his gloved hand. He drew closer to you with slow, measured steps.
“You have impenetrable skin, yes? Hard, like a diamond,” he said to Ben. “Even inside your holes, it is…perhaps more sensitive, but still strong enough to stop further experimentation.”
Ben’s lip curled with a sneer.
“But there must be a way to get inside you,” Eisenstein said. He grabbed the back of your neck tightly, making you whimper. He held up the syringe. “Tell me now, or I will give her the serum we had prepared for you. There is good chance it may…let’s say, liquify her insides, but we will have to see. Won’t we?”
He gestured at one of the guards, who tore open the back of your gray gown to expose your back and shoulders. You screamed around the gag and struggled, even with the men holding you down. You fought Eisenstein’s grip to look up at Ben. His jaw was clenched, his eyes hard and angry.
You had tears in your eyes; they already began to slip down your cheeks. You implored him wordlessly. Ben stared back at you through furrowed brows.
Getting nothing but silence, Eisenstein sighed through his nose, and he turned to you with the syringe.
“Hold her steady.”
You struggled and thrashed in vain.
“Wait!” Ben said, through clenched teeth.
Everyone in the room paused.
Ben lifted his gaze from you and directed it at the doctor.
“My eye,” he said lowly. “Inject it in the corner of my eye.”
Eisenstein’s weathered face broke into a smile. “Ah, clever. Thank you, Soldier Boy.”
Then he pressed the needle into your shoulder, emptying its contents into your bloodstream. You uttered a pained sound at the needle going in. Again, you looked up at Ben in panic.
He tensed in an incredulous anger. “What—”
“Do not worry. It’s just a sedative,” Eisenstein shrugged.
Within seconds, you breathed out a whimper as your eyes closed on you. You went limp. The guards peeled you off the table and dragged you out of the room. It left the doctor with his favorite patient.
Ben wanted to rip the man’s arm from his socket and beat him to death with it. And that was just the latest fantasy on how he’d take the good doctor apart.
“What’ve you been doing to her?” Ben asked, in a tone that demanded. It was the first time he had spoken of you, the first time he had the courage to ask the question that so often plagued his mind.
Eisenstein sighed. “She is not as strong or durable as you, but! She has been able to withstand a good many experiments that have borne fruit.”
Ben’s glare darkened. “You’re a sick fucking bastard.”
“I am a visionary,” the doctor countered. “Can you imagine what your mutations could unlock for science? In biomedicine? Her healing abilities, though limited, could provide the cure to any number of diseases and ailments. Your longevity of life could do the same… Or if not, you will make for Russia’s greatest weapon.”
He stepped back and ushered in his assistants. One of them came with the true serum. Its contents had a light red hue. It looked like poison. Ben struggled in his constraints, grunting and resisting the hand that reached for his face.
“If you do not stay still, we will go to her next,” Eisenstein warned.
Ben panted through his nose. His hardened gaze flicked between the doctor, and the needle coming for his eye.
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You heard Ben screaming before you could even open your eyes. You felt it in your chest. In your spirit.
He saved me, you realized, as tears once again stung behind your eyelids.
You also tasted cotton in your mouth. You realized it was because they had thrown you face-first onto your cot. You managed to turn your head so you at least could breathe, but you couldn’t move any of your limbs. Your enhanced healing was the only reason why you were even awake.
Ben…
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He broke free.
The pain was too much. Adrenaline was surging through him, and he was able to grab one of the assistants and crush his throat. His furious gaze was set on Eisenstein next, but the fucker ducked out of the room quick.
Ben padded forward on slightly unsteady feet, ripping away the rest of his restraints from the cold metal. He stalked toward the door. Before he could reach it, a hissing plume of Novichok gas flooded the entire cell. 
His eyes rolled up into his head, and he fell to the ground. All the while, the serum was working inside him, bubbling and brewing red hot in his chest.
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You were lying unmoving in your cot when Eisenstein came in to check on you.
“How is the little bird, doing?” he asked in his native tongue.
He ventured over to you carefully. In one of his hands was a cattle prod, just in case.
“They were careless,” he remarked. He set down the cattle prod to grasp your shoulders, and he rearranged you until you were lying on your back. You were still unresponsive, when the doctor knew for a fact that you should be awake by now. He had your reaction times to certain chemicals perfected to the minute.
He frowned and reached out to hold a gloved finger to your neck, measuring your pulse.
That was when you opened your eyes.
You raised up and headbutted him as hard as you could. Eisenstein cried out and fell to the ground. You followed him there and straddled him. Your hands were still bound by the straitjacket, so you had no choice.
You bent down and distracted him with a disdainful kiss to his lips.
When you next open your eyes, they were glowing violet.
You took control of his mind.
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AN: 😬😬😬
Also, get ready for a whopper of a chapter in Part 9. (My favorite one of the series!)
Next Time:
Free me, you compelled Eisenstein’s mind.
He obeyed you with a vacant look in his eyes. He unhooked your straitjacket and opened the door. After you grabbed up his cattle prod, you still didn’t release your psychic hold. You ordered him forward, and for the first time you walked freely out of your cell without restraint.
Take me to Soldier Boy.
▶️ Keep Reading: PART 9
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therealcocoshady · 3 months ago
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I also had an idea kind of similar to the arranged marriage plot maybe someone sets them up on a blind date… he keeps saying no but the person playing Cupid is very persistent and he ends up feeling obligated to go (idk, just a thought)
Oh, I actually had an thought about something similar to this, a while ago - please don’t mind me, I literally wrote this thing in less than 30 minutes and didn’t proofread. I just wrote it so that you’d get the idea.
After years of frustration with women and trust issues, Marshall has made peace with the fact that he’s going to end up alone. Even his friends have stopped trying to set him up on dates. Sure, they’d like to see him thrive in a relationship, and they can see how lonely he is, sometimes, but they also know he’s complicated. So they leave him alone on the topic. So he dedicates to his work and his role as a father.
And ironically enough, his girls are the only people that could get him to go out of his comfort zone. One of them is still in college, studying psychology. She has to do an assignment for one of her classes and she is searching for volunteers for an experiment on dating and relationships. The design is pretty simple : people sign up, fill some forms and answer questions. Then, an algorithm pairs them up for maximum compatibility and they have to go on a date, during which they will have to answer the famous 36 questions designed to make them fall in love. His daughter is a bit behind on work and she has to find one more volunteer. She doesn’t even believe in this whole thing, she just wants to pass the class. So she begs Marshall, who refuses at first. Because A) he doesn’t date and B) even if he did, he wouldn’t take part in an experiment, much less one involving his daughter in his romantic life. But she’s really desperate and she assures him that the whole thing is anonymous and clinical. « Please, Dad, it’ll take twenty minutes of your time. And who knows if they’ll even pair you with anyone for the date. I just need to pass the class and graduate. You’re the one who always insisted on me getting higher education ! ». Of course, he caves in. Because he did sacrifice a lot for his babies to go to college, and he’ll be damned if his daughter fails the class because of him. Plus, the people in charge of the experiment will probably see his answers and figure he’s a lost cause. Even science wouldn’t find a good match for him, right ?
Except that it does. Weeks later, he receives an email, informing him that he’s been selected for the second step of the experiment and that they’ve found him a match with 95% compatibility. At first, he figures he won’t go. With his luck, they paired him with another fifty-something man who’s just as lonely. No way this could be a woman. Not with the stoic and sarcastic answers he typed in the form. The email doesn’t even specify who they paired him with. They just ask if he’d be available for a date in two weeks time. Basically, it’s having coffee with the other person, answering the 36 questions unrecorded and then filling another form to describe the experience and say if yes or no they feel attracted to the other person and would consider actually dating them. He figures that, even though it’s anonymous, his daughter’s team wouldn’t have the data if he bails and he’ll be damned if his precious daughter doesn’t get her degree because of him. Of course he’ll bite the bullet and go on that stupid coffee date. Even if he’s paired with a 53 year-old name George.
But as it turns out, his date is not 53 year-old George. It’s you. You and your charming smile. You who agreed to take part in the whole thing because your little sister, his daughter’s teammate, begged you at the last minute. God, these college students need to learn how to do things in time and not to involve their family in their cringy psych classes experiment. You don’t even want to do this whole thing but when a charming man shows up, you can’t help but smile and introduce yourself, extending a polite handshake to greet him. He doesn’t seem too at ease in that little café, which you find odd because it’s actually quite lovely. Also, you swear you’ve seen him somewhere, but it’s Detroit and he’s a brown-haired, bearded, middle-aged man in jeans and a hoodie. Pretty generic. You’re not exactly surprised to have been paired up with someone older than you. You’ve always been told you’re an old soul, so of course « science » (or whatever software they used to compile data) would figure out that your perfect match is almost twenty years older. Anyway, you’re not really here for a date. You’re here for your sister to finally graduate. And you’re not one to refuse free Chai latte.
So the two of you exchange a few pleasantries, introduce yourselves and get to these 36 questions. You tell each other who you could have dinner with if you could choose anyone in the world, whether or not you have a secret hunch about how you will die… as it turns out, the thing is cleverly designed. The questions are increasingly personal and both of you end up sharing personal details, things you most definitely wouldn’t think of sharing with a stranger you were more or less randomly paired up with. By the time you reach the last question, you are looking into each other’s eyes, giving your undivided attention, leaning in. When you arrived, you were strangers but by the end of the date, you feel like you really know each other. More than some people you’ve known your whole life. And by the time it ends, you’ve had the time to notice how charming the wrinkles around eyes are, and you don’t find it too unsettling that he blinks a bit faster than most people you know. As for him, he hasn’t failed to notice that little birthmark near your eye, and the way your mouth twitches when you’re trying to think of the adequate word to answer one of the questions. You don’t know each other’s favorite color or the name of your first pet, but both know when the other last cried in front of someone else and by themselves and why. 36 questions and a cup of coffee later, and you’re not really strangers. You actually had a pleasant time. Too bad you reached the end of the questionnaire and it’s time to go. Too bad he doesn’t offer to take your number and call you. Too bad you’re too demure to ask for his. You wouldn’t have minded actually going out with him. Maybe even discuss that movie he mentioned in passing and thinks you’d like.
The two of you share a hug goodbye and agree that it was fun. You wish him well for his daughter’s wedding he told you he’s busy planning and he wishes you luck for that job interview you said you were nervous about. When you go home and it’s time to answer that final set of questions, saying how you feel about the experiment, you actually give the whole thing a solid 8/10. And when you’re asked if you’d actually date the person you met for coffee, you tick « yes » faster than you’ve ticked any box. You do the same when it asks you if you’d consent to the other person being given your contact info.
Weeks later, Marshall is ecstatic when his daughter tells him she got a good grade for that psych class and that she’ll be graduating with honors. He’s proud as can be. She thanks him profusely for helping her. « I know it’s a stupid thing. But hey, there are a few people who reported they had a good time. Who knows ? Maybe I helped someone find love. ». She has absolutely no idea that he is one of the people who asked for the other person’s contact info as soon as they were given the possibility. She doesn’t know he’s been on four more dates with you. People have been so used to him being single that it didn’t even cross his daughter’s mind. Not even when he mentioned he missed the last Lions’ game, which never happens. But she definitely gets a hunch when he attends her graduation ceremony and sees him smile to that beautiful lady who’s attending her graduation ceremony and came to greet him. « Oh, that’s my sister speaking with your dad ! », her friend says. « I convinced her to do the experiment and she told me she met someone charming. Can you believe it ?! ».
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szallejhscorner · 2 years ago
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i just had a thought and needed to share it with you LMAO but chishiya is definitely the type of person to use the whole ‘three taps means i love you’ code cuz he rarely ever says it out loud. so like anytime he passes by you he’ll tap your arm three times and sometimes he even finds himself doing it unconsciously in his sleep :((
Thank you for sharing this with me, my friend ♥
How could I NOT write this for you?
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Tap, tap, tap.
Three taps on your upper arm as he passed you, his eyes not even looking up from the article he was reading. Only Chishiya’s smirk hinted at the fact that those taps were intentional, and you moved your fingers to the still tingling skin of your arm.
He always did that. Tapping your arm when walking past you, tapping your fingers when you held his hand, even your head when you snuggled into his side while watching a movie together. You had barely noticed at first, but the more often Chishiya did it, the more you questioned what it actually meant.
You had tried to figure out if it occurred after you said or did something special. Maybe it was to tell you that you were stupid (in Chishiya’s own mocking but loving way of course), or that you should move aside? It didn’t make sense.
One time you had questioned him, and the only answer had been a knowing chuckle. Of course, the cunning blonde wouldn’t give you the answer that easily, since he loved to be the clever one. You had even tried to tap him back, but that only led to an even bigger smirk on his face.
Rolling your eyes, you followed Chishiya into the living room, where he dropped back into the couch and barely made place for you when you did the same. You snuggled into his touch, leaving him enough space so he could continue reading that article about surgical stuff, and looked up to his face. Strands of blonde hair tickled your skin, the scent of strawberry shampoo just a hint in the air as you breathed in.
You searched for his hand and didn’t let go until your fingers intertwined with his, and there it was again. Three taps of his thumb against the side of your hand.
“What does it mean?” you asked again, twirling a strand of blonde hair between your fingers.
Chishiya tilted his head towards you just so slightly, a sign that he enjoyed what you were doing. “Hmm?”
You snorted. “Come on, don’t fool me. The taps! You know what I’m talking about. What does it mean?”
“If you can’t figure it out yourself, there’s no need to explain it anyway.”
That asshole. He knew exactly how much you wanted that answer, and he enjoyed it even more to play with you. This was definitely not the reason you loved him. You punched his side, hard enough so he had to flinch, before you snuggled back into it. “I hate you, ‘Chiya.”
“No, you don’t.” He bluntly stated with a smirk. Of course you didn’t.
Later that night, when the movie was long finished and you both had gone to bed, you still lay wide awake and stared at the ceiling. In the darkness of night, only a few shadows were visible, cast by the moon and the trees outside your window. Three taps. And there was a meaning behind it. Just why couldn’t you figure it out?
Chishiya huffed in his sleep and turned around so he was facing you. His mouth was slightly parted and his hair was tousled all around his beautiful features. You couldn’t resist touching his cheek, and his lips curled into a smile for a second. When you pulled back your arm to give Chishiya the space he needed, his fingers brushed your skin and you felt the soft tap, tap, tap once more.
He even did that while sleeping! But what-
You scanned his features, listened to the sound of his breath, and despite the riddle he wouldn’t solve for you, your heart was almost bursting with love for this man. You loved so many things about him – his voice, his cleverness, the way he was a man of few words who preferred to use tiny gestures.
And then it struck you.
Of course! How couldn’t you have seen it before?
Everything that Chishiya did had a meaning, even the slightest touch was considered.
Tap, tap, tap.
Three taps… three words.
I love you.
You smiled, breathing a kiss onto Chishiya’s lips. “I love you, too.”
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