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verdantwyrm · 2 months ago

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In Defense of Curly (Again)

This post is not about absolving Curly of his “sins” or anything, Curly is not an innocent angel that has done no wrong, no, he is morally grey as they come. But I will not stand for slander on my wife NO MORE. Curly is not as guilty as you would think, but neither is he Innocent. Anya is so much more than a victim, Curly is so much more than a bystander, and Jimmy is so much more than a rapist, they are multifaceted characters in a very multidimensional game. They’re all characters that have been individually crafted to tell a story, and everyone is avoiding that by reducing them to a singular note of events rather than their entire personality and even going as far to twist their dialogue and character to fit their own bias, ignoring whats actual factual and canon for the sake of projection.

So with that out of the way, let us begin.

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A sense of timeline for better understanding.

Curly's Psych Eval (and by extension, Jimmys) was 7 Days before the crash. Curly does not know Anya is pregnant here.

The birthday Party is 6 Days before the crash. Curly doesn't know here either.

The Dead Pixel scene is 2 Days before the Crash. Curly doesn't know here either.

Anya stealing the gun is 1 Day Before the Crash. Curly Finds out Anya is pregnant here and that Jimmy is responsible. Anya tells Jimmy about the pregnancy and tells Curly about it. 0 Days before the crash (The Same Day)

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Pony Express’ Abuse

As for the first subject, I want to make it very clear about Pony Express’ Failure to comply and have any standard safety measures (most noticeably in the lack of locks) and the fact that they very often penalize their employees by taking from their pay and that they’re extremely lazy and known to cut corners for everything. The poster in-game tells us a lot about this if not backed up directly by the dialogue.

"Proper preparation prevents accidents, it is your responsibility to keep yourself and the crew safe. Medical expenses will be docked from person credits."

"Punctual delivery is our pride and promise- No matter where you are! Late deliveries will be docked from personal credits."

"Teamwork is the soul of success! When you have completed your tasks, always check on other tasks! HR complaints about poor team synergy may result in collective punishment"

"Sleep is the best rest after a long day of work, earn that rest! Don't overdo it or fall behind! Do not indulge in over 5 hours of forest, including leisure time. Sleeping over the allowed budget will result in disciplinary actions."

Neither Curly nor Jimmy are getting anything close to the required amount of rest for such a demanding job, with only 5 hours compared to the IRL guidelines for pilots to get an average of 10 hours of rest between shifts with 8 hours of sleep, it's also implied by Anya and Curly's own dialogue that he struggles to sleep. Which all together implies that they're both working 19-hour shifts every day. Every. Single. Day.

We see them both on shift at the same time multiple times during the game and Curly is the only one with clearance to make certain extremely important navigation decisions (like turning off the autopilot) and we can easily come to the conclusion that they are both extremely overworked, Curly Especially.

We can easily see that Pony Express are not shy to punish their employees and even goes as far as to routinely engage in collective punishment, and this is shown to be the drive behind a lot of Curly's decisions in particular, especially with how he reassures Anya that her stealing the gun case will not go on the performance log and reducing the chances of her being punished at all and to probably put the pressure onto himself in case Pony Express does find out. Given her precarious financial situation, she literally cannot afford to have her pay docked and Curly knows this.

Pony Express is known for its laziness, negligence and its ability to cut corners, they are also seen to not trust its employees by making everything have to go through him from axe usage to making a cake. To not supplying enough medical equipment, a fifth cryogenic pod to account for Daisuke or even to account for him at all. Curly himself even commented on how he should have made a bigger “stink” about the situation of Daisuke being thrown on the Tulpar last minute, which implies that he did raise this as an issue and a safety risk and was ignored.

I'm not going to take this as seriously but it is worth mentioning regardless because it is just absolutely Kafkaesque levels of absurd, They actively make it borderline impossible to report anything, so even if Curly or Anya were able to get ahold of Pony Express to send in a report, they never could due to the requirements and the prerequisites. It also implies that if you apply for a job there but refuse the medical evaluation, they can fine you despite the fact that you don't even actually work there yet.

Another classic example of Marx's theory is of the alienation in capitalism, wherein workers are estranged and separated from the products of their own labour. The crew had absolutely no idea what they were delivering, and judging by how much was put in place, they were never supposed to.

Marx's theory, the implementation of automation would negatively impact workers by depriving them of job opportunities that could have been filled by humans. This is strongly suggested to be the primary reason for the downfall of Pony Express and why the crew was fired.

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Anya’s Assault

Anya being assaulted is never outright said, with an intentional layer of vagueness layered over the top with how she talks about it and how she mentions it to Curly. The words “Assault” “Rape” or even “Attacked” are not mentioned at any point, we only learn this through visual imagery and subtext of Anya mentioning the lack of locks on the doors, how unsafe she feels around Jimmy, and she would rather him not have the gun at all—fawning at his every response in a panic of upsetting him or escalating the situation. The words are never explicitly said as many other victims can sympathise with, saying the words out loud can be very difficult sometimes, and Anya’s vagueness was intentional on the happenchance that Curly did take Jimmy’s side. She was trying to put distance between herself and that possibility by being as cautious and as vague as she could, in hopes that Curly would pick up on the signs himself and come to that conclusion himself instead of Anya babying him and dumbing down the situation.

This is a believable reaction, especially when your abuser has any kind of power over you or other people, and he isn’t the only one either. Curly has just as much power, if not significantly more over her, which adds more to the fear of even mentioning such a thing, as mentioned earlier in my section of Pony Express' Abuse towards them, the possibility of being penalized with her– and everyone else –pay being docked because she made a simple complaint, was a very real threat, and even more dangerous after finding out about the whole crew being laid off. Jimmy tears her down every chance he gets, makes her feel little and even compares her to Polle in his hallucinations. And Anya knows that he and Curly have a very lengthy history, so her caution and anxiety about even mentioning the incident, let alone saying the word “rape” is borderline impossible for her. It’s a manifestation, it’s a verbal acceptance and confession that it’s even happened. Something she has been trying to avoid coming to terms with.

And when she does eventually tell Swansea what happened, as much as you want to think she told him- she most likely told him to not do anything, to try and keep the peace for as long as possible.

Again, her vagueness is not her fault, nor is it her responsibility. It was Jimmy’s responsibility to not abuse and rape her.

It’s also very present that Jimmy is verbally abusive to her, putting her down at every opportunity by ignoring her very talented medical skills by saying Pony Express only hired her to cut corners in an attempt to reduce costs because she failed Medical School and that she’s not a “real nurse” because of that, and how he constantly questions her skills despite keeping Curly alive for such a long time in such a state.

After being insulted by him multiple times, she fawns to get him to actually do something beneficial because she knows he responds well to praise, and he complies, all while still insulting and belittling her for being "weak" and "sentimental"

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The Dead Pixel In The Room

Going to immediately preface this with a very big obvious “Curly did not know Anya was raped” warning sign to hopefully weed out the weak that don’t want to actually read this. You can leave now if you’d like, no hard feelings. This scene is supposed to be your first clue as a player, as well as Curly's. It's intentional to be like that, it makes the most sense chronologically as well because up until that point, we don't even know.

Okay, we can start now. First, off the bat, I want to talk about that dead pixel scene. And how both Anya and Curly have their own individual meanings behind It, and how both play into each character’s relationship with Jimmy. With Anya’s being a constant reminder of Jimmy’s presence, how it affected her and how it’ll always be there no matter what. And Curly’s is something that he knows exists, but cannot see for himself, because he’s too busy looking at the bigger picture. Even if he knows it's fake, even if he knows it’s an illusion.

He doesn’t doubt her here either, and even though he admits he cannot see it. He believes that it's there, despite this, and that it doesn’t ruin the image. Choosing to see the good, the beauty, of the bigger picture. The Dead pixel scene isn’t just about Anya, it’s about the both of them. And you’re probably asking how Curly hasn’t gotten the point Anya is trying to make, and thats again because she’s being intentionally vague here, and her comment about the lack of locks ties up pretty well with the previous two conversations she’s had with Curly directly. Complaining about Jimmy being weird during the psych evaluation and then her pithy comment about Pony Express’ cutting back expenses on their food and the comment she makes about the code scanner during the birthday party.

All of her previous conversations with Curly have been about their work or something going on in the ship or even with Pony Express directly. So it’s not unusual for her comment about the lack of locks on the sleeping quarters, it’s not random, it’s pretty on theme with the direction of how their conversations go, Curly wouldn’t pick up on that alone because it’s not a strange thing to say.

It's also very much shown that Anya trusts Curly, trusts him enough to not only confide in him first about the pregnancy but also allow herself to be open and friendly with him, even going as far as to try and get him to open up to her during his psych evaluation. She is also hiding behind his seat when she steals the gun. She feels the safest when she is with the real captain and how uncomfortable she is listening to Jimmy's orders to strip Curly of that title.

Every single time that Curly and Anya speak directly, he is always reassuring her, attempting to calm her down and her safety is the first thing he's concerned about when he finds out she's taken the gun.

And once she mentions the pregnancy, his priorities flip, again to her safety, reassuring her that she won't get punished for this. Once again telling her that everything is going to work out, that WE will fix this, WE WILL figure this out TOGETHER. He and Anya.

A key important word here is "what would you have done"

Would. Not, what will you do, no she's asking in past tense. The assault has already happened, she is reassuring herself here before telling him about the pregnancy that he is on her side, that he believes her and that her trust in him isn't misplaced.

And when he does find out she's pregnant, he still doesn't know exactly how. And it's important because it reflects back onto how Curly does ultimately behave when he does approach Jimmy. He doesn't know he's confronting a rapist, and his dialogue here proves that he does just think it was ultimately her choice, her decision. And the most painful part Is the very blatant unwanted pregnancy, not anything else.

Anya is still being intentionally vague here as well, as mentioned earlier. Curly did not actually know that Anya was raped, as the only thing that's mentioned is the pregnancy and that Jimmy is involved. Which is absolutely something to be worried about, regardless of how it happened, because they're on a ship. In the middle of Space.

Someone who knew would not react like that. Curly never once doubts Anya's words or her truth. And after Anya tells Culy about how she told Jimmy about her pregnancy, Curly says that she should have waited for him because he wanted to be there just in case.

Curly even does it literally. The most important part that everybody overlooks is how determined he is to get to the cockpit as the ship is crashing. He knows it's crashing but all he can do is try, he could have run away, but he didn't.

Curly took responsibility multiple different times which is easily overlooked because so much happens in such a short time span that people literally think he had months between knowing about Anya being raped and then the crash when it was barely a day. Just like how people easily overlook the dead pixel scene and how it also represents something to Curly as well, and just like how people overlook Anya's "I told you so"

Curly's kind, forgiving and trusting nature is not inherently bad. It was how it was used against him in an extremely difficult situation, which is exactly what Abusers do time and time again. He failed Anya in such a delicate way and in such a difficult situation, but it's something to understand that Pony Express failed her first, failed her in all the most important ways by even allowing a situation like this to happen. It was Jimmy's responsibility to not be a rapist, but it was Pony Express's fault for even enabling that in the first place.

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Curly's Trauma

A very common thing that people tend to overlook, and this is either because they subconsciously forget that men can be victims of abuse, or simply because they don’t care enough to consider Curly to be one– his relationship with Jimmy and what we can glean from is very abusive, emotionally and verbally and then soon later on physically. Curly is just as much a victim of Jimmy's mistreatment and abuse as Anya is, in their own unique and parallel ways, they both had everything taken from them. We can tell in Jimmy’s behaviour and the way he intentionally isolates Curly in the Birthday scene and the Psychological evaluation in the cockpit, Jimmy takes Curly’s weakness and anxieties and twists them around to isolate him from receiving any help or support from others.

Curly’s biggest weakness is his forgiving nature. We all talk about how Anya is a victim of Jimmy, and she absolutely is, but so is Curly. His first immediate response Jimmy's reaction to Anya announcing her pregnancy is met with immense fear and anxiety with the added soundtrack of what could be equivalent to the sound of Curly's heart racing. He freezes, he fawns, he panics.

Curly's good-natured heart, being lax, trusting and a constant mediator isn't inherently a problem. It was the circumstances that turned that so volatile. If Jimmy wasn't who he was and so readily abusive then Curly's character would not be that detrimental, and his actions would not have such a catastrophic impact. And everyone immediately boiling down those harmless traits and villainising them does much more harm than good, especially since the character they should be targeting is Jimmy, not Curly.

He is beyond terrified, and when he does finally get to Jimmy, he immediately fawns and freezes. He makes absolutely no mention of Anya or anyone else because all that mattered in that panicked situation was easing Jimmy down and resolving the situation. There was truly, absolutely nothing that Curly could have done that wouldn't have resulted in either direct consequences or collective punishment. All of Curly's thoughts, behaviour and actions were as carefully thought out as he possibly could in the short 24 hours or so that he was made aware of Anya's pregnancy and Jimmy's involvement.

He is trying to eliminate all potential problems in the situation so Curly can take the full front of Jimmy's rage. This again furthers the point of exactly why Curly wouldn't recognise the signs of Anya being abused as well because this is all so normal for him. He’s terrified of Jimmy, and an abuser's main tactic is to make sure that their victims never feel confident to speak up against them, or to ever seek out help from others. It’s why he never rushes to defend himself, he just lets Jimmy do and say all of these horrible things.

And Jimmy immediately stabs back putting him down. Twisting the blame and putting it into Curly. Like he somehow was a part of it all and that it was his fault.

Curly was and has been a victim of Jimmy's abuse for a very long time on an emotional and mental aspect that clouded his judgements and perceptions in the scenario which devolved into physical and medical abuse very quickly once Jimmy got his chance. And it is also true that Curly had a responsibility to protect Anya as a crew mate and Captain that he failed due to bias towards his abusers, and his kind and forgiving nature of simply wanting to see the good in Jimmy, which is also another aspect of what victims believe. Curly enables Jimmy's behaviour towards himself and even goes as far to completely blame himself for everything that happened in How Fish Is Made.

A lot of victims tend to surround themselves with excuses of why they’re abused, that it’s somehow their fault and that he’s done something awful to deserve it, that this a normal thing that happens, that Jimmy has his reasons to be like this and it isn’t his fault. People argue that Curly should have done more and that he "failed" in any regard is putting a huge expectation onto a victim like him of someone like Jimmy's relentless abuse and how it takes such an impactful toll on someone like Curly. Everyone who plays or watches the game looks over the very easy and subtle warning signs of this abuse and is too busy claiming Curly to be the antagonist here and holding him responsible instead of Jimmy.

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Conclusion + Other Comments

Curly is not perfect, but he is not as guilty as everyone wants him to be. If you go into mouthwashing anticipating Curly as a cruel, selfish monster, of course, you're going to interpret him that way and twist everything he ever does or says to fit your narrative although he very obviously isn't that way at all and get upset when someone tells you you're wrong. You need to remember that he had a whole crew to think of, Curly is not judgement, nor is he the executioner. His hands were absolutely tied and for one reason only: Because Pony Express does, did, and will not care. Pony Express has it explicitly like this so you cannot do anything. So people like Jimmy who manipulate the vulnerable can prey upon his co-workers and get away with it.

The situation on the Tulpar is not as straightforward as people would like, I understand it's extremely cathartic to think of a situation where Jimmy gets what he deserves but it isn't realistic, and thats what this game is trying to say. Abusive corporations, exhausting capitalism, this environment breeds Abusers like Jimmy and victims like Anya and Curly. There was nothing that could be done. Pony Express is what doomed them all, they're the catalyst.

At some point, you have to understand and accept the fact that certain scenarios are simply just cathartic fantasies that simply couldn't have happened. They were all doomed, right from the start. It wasn't just Jimmy's actions (Although they significantly influenced the outcome), and it sure as hell wasn't Curly's inaction. It was Pony Express. I think something that a lot of people get mixed up in their interpretations of Curly is that he's not us, and we're not supposed to be him. Constantly projecting your own fears and experiences onto him to sway your interpretation of his words takes away from the already written-in-stone character he is. You saying "He didn't mean it" when talking about Curly saying he cares about Anya is not only incorrect, but it's YOUR projection onto a character that is already extremely upfront and honest about his intentions and kind personality. He is not malicious, evil, cruel, selfish or misogynistic, so saying that because you interpreted his words to be half-truths or him lying through his teeth to Anya and that his kindness is fake is literally obstructing his character.

Everyone wants them both to be perfect examples of victims and refuses to understand or even believe Curly's situation. Curly DID fail Anya but not for the reason everyone thinks he did.

They're both victims to the same man, they both believe in the best of people (although to their own detriment in a way) they want to find peace, and fulfilment in their career and life. They're so alike in such delicate and intimate ways, that trying to constantly paint Curly as this great, horrible oppressor over her does way more harm than good.

Curly's character is painfully obvious, very very upfront and honest. He is kind, constantly weighed down by guilt and anxiety about his future and career and is being abused by his so-called friend and the company he's working himself to death for that he absolutely hates that just discarded him like he was nothing. Like a lame horse.

Thank you so much to the Mouthwashing Mania Discord server for helping me with this thread! Specifically Mogs for their amazing analysis on Capitalism which can be found here!

Thank you for reaching the end of the thread, please don't be scared to share your thoughts in the tags or in my inbox, I'd love to hear them! good job! (っ˘з(˘⌣˘ ) ♡

#mouthwashing #mouthwashing anya #mouthwashing jimmy #curly mouthwashing #mouthwashing curly #anya mouthwashing #daisuke mouthwashing #mouthwashing analysis #jimmy mouthwashing #analysis #long thread #long post

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ginkgo-phyta · 1 year ago

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Tantalizing / Spencer Reid

PART TWO: Link

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader

Words: ~8k

Tags/Warnings: SMUT!!! like pure smut, AFAB fem reader, no usage of "y/n", light footplay, light nipple play, humping, unprotected penetration, slight dom/sub themes (nothing intense, maybe more like switch?), secret relationship, extensive foreplay teehee ;]

Summary: You haven't had good, quality, playful time with Spencer in quite a while- the team's schedule having been jam packed with cases. Its been making you antsy, expounded by how good your boyfriend has been dressing lately. You decide late one night that enough is enough, and you had to dig your claws into him. Even if people end up finding out about you two.

Author's Note: inspired by spencer's s7 outfits...they're so good. they make me wanna bark. this is my very first time writing smut! ahhh!! also i didn't know wtf to title this.

“Hi Spencer…” Your alluring voice purred into Spencer’s ears as he held the hotel door open for you, the seductive timbre curling up the back of his neck, brushing against his warming cheeks and flicking the ends of the hair that tickled the shell of his ear.

“C-come in, quickly”. He ushered you in, closing the door swiftly behind you. The stammer caused you to grin mischievously and you watched Spencer pause in the middle of the room- just staring at you hesitantly, taking in your appearance as he played with the hem of his sweater vest. You donned a half-sleeved retro style black dress with a white collar and small buttons going down the front- his favorite on you. The belt hugged your waist beautifully and the skirt that shaped out your hips flared out a bit at the end, falling right at the knee. With it you wore an assortment of dainty jewelry, very sheer black tights and short forest green heels. He had seen you just a handful of times throughout the day, and each time he had to find some excuse to leave your vicinity in order to hold onto even a sliver of concentration on the case.

“I’ve missed you all day, baby.” you start to step closer to him, twirling the ends of your perfectly curled ponytailed hair between your fingers. The soft thuds of your kitten heels sent tingles down Spencer’s spine. “Did ya miss me?” you questioned him with a little pout. Now mere inches away from him you traced your manicured fingers down the lapels of his blazer. Reflexively, his hands shot up to rest ever-so-lightly on the curve of your hips.

He gulped, watching you playfully bat your mascaraed eyelashes up at him, “Of course, I did.” Spencer cleared his throat, trying to gain some sort of composure, “I wished you could have come out into the field with me, but you need to get better first.” His right hand shyly moved up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, fingers lingering to fiddle with the small golden hoop on your lobe.

A dramatic sigh huffed out of your plump, glossy lips while fixing the knot of his tie, “I knoooow,” tone almost childish in reluctance, “I just love seeing you work.” You threw your arms over his shoulders, flashing him the beautiful smile he loved oh-so-much to see, “Which is why I’m here. Wanna see what you’re up to.” The bite of your lip, the glint in your eye, and the glimpse to his own lips made it clear to Spencer that you held a different motive. “Show me what you're working on?” you turn to make your way to the desk where dozens of papers and multiple files were scattered around. The purposefully enticing sway of your hips left Spencer captivated.

You had suffered a pretty bad concussion a couple weeks ago at the hands of an unsub weidling a copper pipe. The proceeding vertigo refused to relent its choking grip on your inner ear resulting in being “banned” from the field until a doctor’s clearance- or two, if Spencer could have his way. Usually this wouldn’t be all that big of a deal for you, but the case the BAU team was currently working on had Spencer away from you for most of the day, profiling the suspected murderer’s house in an attempt to find details that could lead to the missing victim. You were left twiddling your thumbs at the precinct. Well, not really, but it sure did feel like it at times.

“Ooo, the coded messages. Have my analyses helped you at all?” your voice pulled Spencer out of his debauched thoughts. His gaze landed on your face, all traces of seductive tactics were gone, replaced by eager and adorable curiosity. The unsub had several coded messages in journals scattered around his apartments that were proving to be incredibly difficult to crack. Spencer let out a breathy chuckle as he excitedly made his way over to sit at the desk.

“Yes, they actually did. I was able to-” and off he went down the rabbit hole of a tangent. Although normally you would have intently listened to what he had to say, this time watching him passionately ramble reignited the little flame in your bosom. You leaned against the desk, letting your eyes wander over Spencer’s expressive hands and fingers as he gestured to different pieces of paper. You interrupted his spiel by sliding into the space between his body and the desk, using the toe of your shoe on the seat to roll the creaky swivel chair back.

“The working day is over, Spencie, don’t you think it's time to focus on better things?” Spencer's head snapped down to where your foot rested on the cushion of the flimsy motel office chair, right between his legs and dangerously close to his clothed cock. He followed the line of your nylon clad leg, over the skirt of your work dress, across the prominence of your chest, up the slope of your neck, and finally to your twinkling eyes. “I don’t deserve any attention, baby?” you tilted your head ever so slightly, your hand coming up to delicately play with the single-pearl necklace resting in the Plender’s gap of your collar bones. A delicious, forlorn sigh passed your lips as your fingers glided over your shoulder, head moving with it to look down and pick at the papers laying under your tush, “You didn’t really miss me, did you? All you ever think about is the bad guys.” And there was that pout again. God, you really knew how to make Spencer a mess.

“That’s not true!” he exclaimed immediately, voice cracking slightly at the end. Your eyes snapped to his offended face. You giggled as his Adam’s apple bobbed- you loved teasing him, it boosted your confidence and only egged you further every time. His reactions would always be your drug of choice. “I’m-I’m sorry.” was all else he could spit out.

“What for, honey?” you leaned back on your hands, head tilting to the other side this time.

“For not giving you my attention. I didn’t mean to…neglect you. I really did miss you. I always do.” Spencer’s hands came up to lightly cup your calf, still very aware of its proximity to certain progressively-aching parts of his body.

“Good.” your voice was matter of fact as you straightened up a bit. Spencer watched you pull at your hair-tie and release your ponytail with a few firm shakes, his lips parted with a sharp draw of breath. The foot between his legs briefly moved as you kicked off your heels before it settled back into its original position, this time inching further under his crotch.

He let out a quiet surprised “Ah-” at the contact, his grip on your leg lowered as he squirmed in his seat.

“You like my outfit today? I picked it out specifically for you.” your words turned breathy as you leaned closer to the quiet genius, “You’ve been dressing sooo nice lately, honey, I wanted to look just as pretty as you.” You picked up one of his hands that had slid down to grasp your ankle, pushing his palm flat onto your led as you dragged it up the limb. Under your dress it went, enticing Spencer closer to you in response until his chest hit your shin. His fingers curled onto your thigh, analyzing the smoothness of your tights before you stopped. Instead, you took his fingers and pressed them into the lacey top of your sheer black thigh-high stockings. Another little move, press, and pause, allowing Spencer’s fingers to analyze. They were latched to a garter belt. The realization drew a soft groan from the back of his throat as his forehead dropped onto your knee. He loved when you would wear these. Spencer placed a few barely-there kisses where he could, using his hand to explore your thigh, taking in the difference between your warm skin and the cool nylon. You relished in the way he dug his fingernails into your supple flesh.

“So beautiful…” his whispers into your silked skin tugged a devilish grin up your cheeks. You felt his eyebrows furrow and you could tell his lips were pursed. You craved for his big hands and chapped yet moistened lips to press all over your body, but the teasing was just too fun to quit so soon. Instead, you wove your fingers through his hair, pushing back and coaxing him to look up at you. His cheeks were flushed clove-pink, eyelids drooping slightly as he gazed longingly at your mouth. Spencer’s body tried to jump closer to you, his hands respectively gripped your upper thigh and ankle in a failed attempt to hoist himself up to your hypnotizing smile. You swore you heard him let out a faint moan as his crotch grazed against your lower extremity. This sparked a match in your head.

Much to Spencer’s displeasure you moved away from him, leaning back on hands placed firmly on the desk. He tried to move forward to follow you, but your clothed foot left his crotch to land on his chest, effectively stopping his movements. Spencer let out a huff as it began dragging down his torso, pushing him back into his chair, before its path ended. Your foot hovered over the obvious bulge in his black trousers. “I love wearing these tights,” you started nonchalantly, “They make me feel so pretty and put-together; so hot,” you added a tantalizing emphasis, as if the word was naughty. Your lightly padded toes circled around where Spencer wanted them the most. Instead they avoided it a little longer, going to trace the design of his belt buckle. He screwed his eyes closed- whether to contain himself or simply feel your movements was uncertain. He let out an impatient whine. “Don’t you think so, sweetheart?” The sole of your foot finally flattened on Spencer’s covered cock.

“Yes, yes, yes” he earnestly groaned out, the hand on your ankle desperately pushing your foot further onto his bulge. That’s what you loved most about fooling around with your beloved- always so eager. You bit back the moan of your own that threatened to spill as Spencer threw his head back. You watched the pads of his fingers dig into your ankle, the other hand slid down the back of your calf to meet its twin as his hips lifted slightly off the chair to grind into your foot. His length hardening and extending could be felt against your sole, slightly ticklish. The scene before you was addictive, the sounds escaping his lips so dirty and provocative. He tugged your leg to press you harder to him, causing you to almost slip off the desk.

“Tuttutut,” you chided, “slow down, big boy. I never said you could do all that, did I?” As soon as your light scolding processed in his mind, all of his actions stopped. Spencer quickly shook his head while trying to catch his breath. “Answer me.” you tried again. His eyelids blinked open, gaze meek.

“No, no you didn’t.” He removed his hands from your leg, running them through his hair before plopping them onto the arms of the chair as he panted, “I’m sorry, baby, you just feel so good,” he paused to look at you, swallowing hard. “God, I’ve missed you.” His words were smile-inducing. You dragged your foot off of him, deliberately using extra pressure to earn a deep and husky groan. Spencer’s eyes briefly rolled back into his head before they closed again. You could see tiny glistening beads of sweat forming at the edges on his hairline. His eyebrows furrowed and his Adam’s apple shifted a couple times, miniscule twitches plucked the corners of his mouth.

“What are you thinking about now?” you were clearly amused, feet slightly kicking out like a giddy schoolgirl. Spencer didn’t miss a beat in responding.

“You. I’m thinking about you. I’m thinking about h-how good you make me feel and how much I want you to touch me more,” another gulp. “How much I want to touch you.” His hands gripped the plastic chair arms, causing them to squeak. You giggled at this. To Spencer, you sounded wicked.

“You want to fuck me, don’t you baby.” Your words immediately caused him to squirm, whines leaving his throat. He didn’t dare open his eyes yet. It wasn’t a question, you knew for a fact that’s exactly what he’s thinking, even if he won’t say it like that. Not yet, at least. The team had back-to-back cases for the last month and a half, and the two of you haven’t had a chance to actually have sex in the same length of time. You snuck cuddle sessions in each other’s hotel rooms a couple times, but kept them to a minimum as to not arouse suspicion from your teammates. You couldn’t take it anymore, especially with how good he looked today- how good he has looked the last few weeks, really.

It wasn’t always that you showed your dominant side in bed, but it was all you could think about doing lately.

“Say it. Tell me you want to fuck me, Spencie.”

Another squirm. Eyes squeezed shut.

“Be a good boy, baby. Look at me.” your voice was sterner this time, though the playful edge hadn’t fully dissipated. It took a couple seconds but Spencer’s eyelashes finally fluttered open, “There we go,” you cooed. Spencer swallowed in anticipation, still worming a bit in his seat with arms glued to their spots. “Now, tell me what I want to hear.” you leaned your body forward, hoping to come off a bit more domineering.

Spencer took in a deep breath, eyes flitting around the room in an attempt to avoid your gaze. You didn’t want to ask again, residing to clearing your throat to get your message across. He understood what that meant- you were getting impatient and if you didn’t get what you wanted you would simply stop. He didn’t want that. It’s not like the statement was incorrect, it just wasn’t something that was ever in Dr. Spencer Reid’s ordinary vernacular and he wasn’t yet in the headspace for it to come out without a second thought. He didn’t want to sound stupid. But, oh, he wanted you. Thus, he swallowed his doubts and began,

“Yes,” he nodded his head vigorously, eyes closing just for a millisecond, “I…” His gaze finally locked with yours, “I want to fuck you.”

Damn, the words sounded so incredibly, completely filthy dripping from Spencer’s innocent lips and you wanted to lick up every drop. Your pussy reactively clenched around nothing, and you wanted to surge forwards and push your mouth onto his in a hot kiss- half what Spencer himself expected (and wanted) you to do- but you controlled yourself. Instead, you remained calm, sliding off your desk and toeing your kitten heels back on your feet all while maintaining eye-contact with Spencer. You prowled towards him. His saliva hitched in his throat, heart skipped a beat, breathing quickened. He remained still while you leaned down towards him. Your minty breath fanned over his face, and Spencer wished you would just kiss him already. Of course, you knew that was what he wanted and so you wouldn’t let him have it just now. He watched your face as you brought your hand to his jaw. Your thumb dragged across his bottom lip and down, moving to pull the tie out of his sweater vest. You used it to pull Spencer closer to you, his chin tilted up, reaching out to connect your lips. Just as they were about to touch…you stopped. “Come here,” was all you whispered. And in a flash, you were standing straight up, using the tie to move him up with you. Backwards you walked, returning to your original position on the small desk. As you scooted up a bit, disregarding the important papers you were most definitely damaging, you hiked up your dress to allow your legs to fall open. Spencer moved to stand in between them, but much to his dismay you were too far on the desk for him to be able to feel the warmth radiate from your core. Obviously, that was done on purpose.

Spencer knew he shouldn’t touch you yet, so he rested his hands on the desk close to your hips, only using the tips of his thumbs to brush back and forth between the lace of your stockings and the skin of your thighs. Good boy, you thought, but kept it to yourself. You slowly, yet deftly unbuttoned the cuffs and folded up the sleeves of his shirt, licking your lips at the sight of his hairy and veiny bare arms. You brought them each up to place a light kiss on the inside of his wrists, shifting up the watch on his left, before returning them to their original position. Spencer watched with bated breath and a parted mouth as you then began to seductively undo the top few buttons of your dress, pushing the fabric to the sides to allow Spencer to gaze down at the cleavage hardly contained by your lacy, deep green bra. (It didn’t escape him that they matched your heels). This enticed a moan from the disheveled man. He threw his head back, looking up at the bright ceiling lights in an attempt to grab his bearings, “You’re going to kill me.” he whispered.

You held his face in both your hands, pulling it down to look at you again, “Good.” you whispered back in delight. Fingers traveled to the back of his neck, playing with and tugging at the ends of his hair for a minute before moving to push the dark gray woolen blazer off his shoulders where they then replaced the material with massages. Spencer's eyes shut at the pressures of your ministrations, forehead dropping to rest against your own as a feeling of peace and warmth flooded his veins. He almost forgot how horny he was- almost. He whined at the lost palpations as your hands changed course to loosen his tie. You left it on, opting to unbutton the top of his button-up. Your fingernails scratched at the exposed skin at the base of his neck and top of his hair-sprinkled chest before they danced up to trace his Adam’s apple.

“I want you.” Spencer moaned.

“I know, baby.” you held his face between your hands again, firmly so he couldn’t move, “I want you, too,” Your face inched closer to his at a worm’s pace, and all Spencer could do was watch in impatient anticipation. “You’re just so fun to play with.” You nudged your nose against his, leaving a ghost of a kiss on his lips.

“More, please.” He groaned, head straining against your grasp, his eyelids falling shut.

You giggled sweetly, “Just a bit more, since you asked so nicely,” and you began to press more light kisses where you wanted to- on his top lip, the corners of his mouth, the little dip of his chin, his cupid’s bow, and finally the tip of his nose- your own lightly knocking against his with each proximal peck. Spencer sighed as you leaned away from him.

“Please,” he breathed out. Spencer leaned into your right palm, eyelids opening to reveal a contented, dazed look.

“You said you wanted me to touch you, didn’t you, baby?” your hands started to move, down the front of his chest to creep under the hem of his dark blue sweater vest.

“Mhm…” he nodded excitedly, a content sigh leaving his nose. You pulled the light-blue button-up out of his trouser, the feeling of your cool hands splaying against the warm, bare skin of his lower abdomen had Spencer reeling. You dug the tips of your fingers down a path along his hidden abs and happy trail before curling them around to his lower back where you scratched long horizontal lines. You loved touching him, just feeling his skin. But, Spencer wasn’t the only one losing a little bit of patience.

The sound of his belt buckle clinking undone caused his stomach to somersault. You roughly undid the button and zipper of his trousers before pushing them down just enough to grant you access to what you wanted. Spencer’s forehead thumped lightly against yours, finding its favorite spot again- well, second-favorite if we’re being honest. His breath quickened. You weren’t done teasing yet, though. Peering down, the outline of his hard cock straining against his boxer-briefs, a wet spot accumulating in the gray cotton, sent a jolt to your gut.

“Look at you,” your head tilted up, “so hard for me,” you whispered against his lips. Fingers snapped the waistband of his underwear against his stomach. “What a good boy.” Spencer’s brows furrowed against yours, prompting you to plant a kiss between them, leaving your lips there for a second while you dragged a single deep-brown-polished nail up the length of his covered hard-on.

He whined out your name, his voice hiccupping, “Please, please. Touch me.” The sound of paper crushing told you his hands still sitting by your sides were crumpling the files on the table. Spencer tried so hard not to move his hips, fearing you would stop everything. He resided to fist his hands and nudge his head against yours instead.

“Where?” Could you be any more cruel? Spencer groaned in frustration. Yes, you definitely could. He shouldn’t fight it.

“Please! My-my c-cock.” He swallowed hard to stop his stuttering. “Please touch my cock!” More sounds of paper rustling.

You giggled at his desperation, “Oh, honey, you’re so filthy.” Though, if you were being honest, you were just about getting there, too. Your swollen clit was pulsing in excitement, thin underwear increasingly dampening in your slick. If Spencer wasn’t standing between your legs, you’d be pressing your thighs together in an attempt to get yourself off. “If that’s what my baby wants...”

Finally, your right hand descended into his boxer-briefs, quickly using his ample precum to coat your palm before wrapping your fingers around his length. You gave him a good squeeze, prompted by the deep moan he let out, and started to jack him off.

“Oh, my god.” Spencer groaned, head dropping down to your shoulders. His hands flew up to tightly grip the fat of your hips. His hair tickled your ears, hot breath summoned goosebumps across your chest.

You hummed in response, hooking your heels around the back of his calves as you continued pumping. Your other hand moved to cup and press into his balls through his underwear.

“A-ah!” he tensed up a bit. Spencer’s balls were always a very sensitive spot, almost as if he was biologically wired to be afraid of any touch there. It was your favorite thing to do though- especially wrapping your lips around them.

“Shhh, it’s okay, baby,” you whispered in his ear, nipping lightly at the lobe, “I’ve gotchu. It feels good, doesn’t it?” Your coos against his cheek immediately soothed the tension in his back and you could feel it radiate off of him in waves.

“Yesss,” He mumbled through a groan, pushing his face into the side of your neck and moving his grip up to your waist, “So good.” He let his hips move now, and so did you. He lightly thrusted up into your fist as much as he could with what little leverage his narrow stance afforded him.

You swiped a thumb over the head of his cock and lightly squeezed his engorged balls, causing him to gasp as his hips involuntarily bucked up. You felt his blazen, wet mouth drop open against your skin. Your hand turned and pushed, twisted and pulled, squeezed and tugged, Spencer’s moans growing louder and louder in your ear. Your eyes remained shut, relishing in the sounds he was making and the feeling of his burning skin against yours. Now, it was your turn to want more.

Suddenly, your hands left his dick. Before he could complain, you pushed his briefs down to fully expose him to the crisp air and pulled yourself closer to him in one motion, ignoring the crinkling of paper beneath you. He could feel the heat of your clothed core press up against his impossibly hard dick, causing the both of you to moan in unison. You rested your hands back on the desk and leaned away.

“Touch me, baby.” you breathed out.

Fuck, yes. Spencer thought as his hands surged forward, quickly undoing the last few buttons of your dress before roughly pushing the barrier open, fully exposing your cleavage. With a groan, his fingers pulled down the cups of your intricately designed bra to expose your perky nipples and his mouth immediately descended on them. Your head rolled back. The gasps and moans he was finally able to pluck from your throat were like music to Spencer’s ears. He sucked, nibbled, licked one areola while he pinched, twirled, and rubbed the other. His thumb rolled over the peak of your left nipple, pressing and dragging into the miniscule dip just how you liked it, causing the pit of your stomach to drop and your body to squirm. “Shit!” you hissed out, head snapping up to get a look at him. Spencer looked up at you in response, his eyes glinting with ferocity. His free arm wrapped tightly around your waist, fingers dug into your side, holding your body up to him. One of your hands tangled in his hair, tugging at the strands to make him moan around your nipple, the other gripped at the knitted fabric on his back. He continued moving from breast to breast, catching his breath only for half-a-second while he pawed at them before latching onto the next. Your squirming movements increased, moans becoming more high-pitched as your hands pulled at his hair in an effort to get his head off of you. It signaled to Spencer: you were becoming overstimulated. His mouth pulled off of you with a pop! and you gasped in response.

He let you catch your breath for a moment, watching the rapid rise and fall of your tits while you watched his face through smiling eyes. The corners of his mouth were slightly wet, lips swollen from all the sucking, hair incredibly disheveled from your man-handling. You couldn't help but bite your lip and hum. So pretty. Just as you were about to speak, Spencer leaned down again and began kissing all over your chest and neck. His big, warm hands moved from your ribs to splay over your back, still holding you up to hover over the desk- one in the middle, the other between your scapulae. Your own moved to wrap around his shoulders. He pressed sloppy, damp kisses along the tops of your breast and over your collar bones before moving to the column of your throat. His lips dragged to each side, stopping to nip and suck here and there. Even in his fevered motions, he remained careful not to leave visible hickies, no matter how badly he wanted to fixate on a single place. Once he was thoroughly satisfied in covering your entire neck with kisses, he focused on the sweet spot on the right side, exactly where your pulsepoint was. “Oh Spencer,” the honeyed words caused him to groan, egging him on even more. Your fingers dug into the back of Spencer's own neck, legs wrapped around his ass, bringing him further into you. One particular suck and bite had you twitch your hips up, successfully rubbing your pussy against Spencer’s poor, neglected cock. This spurred him on. He was doing so well, using all his willpower to focus on pleasing you. To be a good boy for you and not rut his throbbing, leaking dick against your hot, wet cunt, but you finally did it yourself- you started it- which meant Spencer could now lose himself in his desires. The pressure had him nuzzling his face into your neck once again, lips open to breathe heavily against your warm skin.

One of his hands left the middle of your back to travel down your body, moving to grip your thigh and pull you to wrap your legs tightly around his waist while his legs spread further apart. The heightened angle and gained leverage allowed Spencer's cock to drag up and down the entirety of your cunt with greater pressure, drawing out even more noises from the both of you.

“Oh my fucking God, Spence. Feels so good..” your choked out words caused him to dig his nails into your skin. You’d definitely be greeted with little crescent shapes tomorrow morning. You leaned your head against his, hands flying to grab onto wherever you could- tangling in his hair, bunching up in the shirt of his broad shoulders, scratching against his neck.

The pleasure seeped into every crevice of Spencer’s brain, consuming any thoughts that didn’t revolve around you. He held onto you as if letting you go meant sending the world into ragnarok. “God, I..” he mumbled, shifting his grasp on your thigh to firmly cup your head in his palm. He couldn’t stop rutting into you, hunched over your body like a crazed animal, even though it was impeding his ability to speak. He licked his lips, readying to speak.

“I wanna fuck you so badly, baby.”

The intensity of his words, his piercing gaze, and the particularly long and deep drag of his bare cock against your dressed clit practically had you cumming. Your head rolled to hang back in the air, almost hitting the desk if it weren’t for Spencer's other hand on your neck holding it up, thumb draped lightly over your jugular. Your eyes tightly screwed, bottom lip pulled in by your teeth in a sorry attempt to heed the salacious noises leaving your mouth. The light feeling of your pussy fluttering almost had Spencer pulling your barely-there panties to the side and shoving his cock into you.

The man should be lauded and awarded for his self-control, but the need to please you triumphed over every biological impulse or desire Spencer would ever feel. He knew what you wanted. He knew your favorite part about teasing him- playing with him, stringing him up- was the burning, fervent, feral kiss it resulted in. Even though it used all his willpower he stopped his thrusting, pulling a drawn-out whine from the back of your throat. “Nooo,” you huffed and pouted.

With force, Spencer yanked your head up to bring your eyes back to his level. He stared into your wide, surprised eyes for a moment, breathing fast and hard before he pulled you forward. Your lips met in an impassioned embrace, hot and heavy. Greedy mouths wide as if to gorge on each other’s impurities. Both of Spencer’s hands grasped your head, fingers digging into the back of your scalp, almost pulling at strands of your hair. Yours rounded his torso, pulling him as close to you as possible. The feverish kiss was messy, loud, and erotic. Tongues wrestled, teeth clashed, noses collided. The taste of Spencer’s saliva was addictive, your mouth pushed into his to gain as much of it as it could. You swallowed his moans, he happily lapped up yours. The motions of your hips started up again, adding to the delectability.

Spencer tried to pull away from you, but you wouldn’t have any of it. You locked your ankles around his waist and bit his bottom lip in an effort to keep his swollen mouth of yours. He rested his forehead against yours again, thrusts becoming sloppy and uncoordinated. The feeling of your panties rubbing against your clit was almost becoming too much.

“Please,” he breathed, “I want to fuck you. I need to fuck you.”

“We c-can’t,” it was your turn to stutter, too overcome with desire to be cocky anymore, “they’ll hear us, we’ll…we’ll get in trouble.” Moans cut into your words. What utter bullshit. The sounds of your debauchery filled every corner of Spencer’s modest hotel room and both of you knew in the back of your fucked-out brains that it was all already dancing down the hallway for everyone to hear. The continuous crumpling of papers; occasional thwap of files hitting the carpeted floor; the consistent thunk, thunk, thunk of the wooden desk beating against the wall; the sharp sound of your kitten heels wrestling with one another around Spencer’s waist; and, of course, the melodiously lewd octaves crawling up from each of your vocal chords.

He hated that answer. You swear you heard Spencer growl as he adjusted to roughly throw each of your legs over his shoulders, always keeping one hand behind your head, before bending over you once again. Your hands flew down to hopelessly grasp at the papers under you. He loved bringing out that surprised look on your face.

“A-ah, Spencer!” The new angle was intoxicating. Every single sensation was overwhelming your senses. The pinches of your dress still bunched up around your upper thighs and creasing in your elbows. The fabric of his vest was rubbing against your hardened and sensitive nipples. Spencer's right hand rested on the base of your throat while the other twisted in your hair. The back of your thighs and calves stretched at the unwarranted position. The smell of musk and sweat proliferated the air around you two. The friction of his stubbled balls chafed your reddening ass. Your bra cups and wire dug into your ribs, the thick belt of your dress pressing your stomach. And of course, the heavenly feeling of his burning, heavy cock rutting against your core. “I think I’m gonna-” you couldn’t finish your exclamation, voice cut off by a sharp gasp of pleasure. No, you weren’t, not yet. You wanted more, too.

Spencer was emboldened by the mixture of oxytocin and endorphins rushing through his veins and the entirety of you engulfing his senses. He gripped your hair tighter as his confidence grew and pushed his forehead harder against yours to look deep into your watering eyes, “I need to feel your tight pussy, baby.” His voice was quiet, yet stern and full- no hint of hesitation or embarrassment. No stuttering or stammering. Your head reeled.

“Fuck me, please!” was all you could say before reaching down and hurriedly grabbing your panties, clumsily pulling them to the side- no toying, no dirty talk, no teasing. Spencer took the cue, using the hand on your throat to instead guide his dick into your entrance.

Finally, he thought while he pushed into you as he straightened up a bit, letting out a guttural groan. The beautiful tone of your sigh tickled his ears. Your pussy was so wet, and in turn so was his cock. You sucked in the entirety of his length with little problem. The thick, pudgy walls of your cunt enveloped Spencer’s dick deliciously, warmth causing his eyes to roll back into his head. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, you’re so tight.” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee. He still held up your head, but his right hand moved down the outside of your thigh, fisting the lacy tops of your tights with a moan of your name

“Ah! You’re so big, honey.” You groaned in response, hands grabbing onto each of his wrists. It’s true, he was. Not the biggest cock in the world, but he stretched you out so incredibly every time. The perfect size.

You were so close to orgasming- you knew with just a few little movements you’d be pushed over the finish line. Nothing had to be said, though, Spencer was fully aware, but he wanted to savor this a bit more; give you a taste of your own medicine, if you will. He leaned in, pulling your head closer to his to envelope your lips with his again. Your legs sandwiched in between your torsos burned at the stretch, but you paid it no mind.

“Please,” you begged shamelessly against his bottom lip. Spencer let out a small, breathy laugh, pushing your messed up hair out of your face. He pulled away from you to stand up straight, not without gaining a whine in response. You tried to keep your head up to watch him better, but you were losing your strength. With a light thud, you let your head fall against the wooden surface, the wall pressing against the top of your hair. He still wasn’t moving yet, and your orgasm ebbed slightly away. Spencer rubbed his big hands up and down the legs resting on his shoulders, massaging and kissing them wherever he felt like it. He took in the sight of you squirming and whining below him, fingers grasping at any of the random papers left on the desk they could reach, chest heaving. Your pearled nipples stood at attention, compelling him to ghost his fingers over them. He was barely touching you, but the moans and sighs would not stop leaving your throat. With a last kiss to your right calf, Spencer spread your legs open, toes of your kitten heels pointed out towards either side of the room. You watched him through hooded eyelids, hands going to support your legs for him. He tickled his nails deeply up the insides of your thighs, the light pain had you squirming and gasping even more which doubled as your movements had you shifting on Spencer’s cock. It felt so good, but the doctor held his own noises in, trapping his bottom lip between his teeth.

“You said,” you pouted breathlessly, “you wanted to fuck me. Hurry, hurry!” You need to cum so badly.

“Isn’t so fun on the other side, is it?” his mischievous smirk mocked you. It was a lie, it was most definitely fun on the receiving end, but it was even more so on this one. His right hand slid up to cup your chin, thumb pressing onto your lips mirroring your earlier actions, “So desperate,” he murmured, hands moving to grab onto your waist. You huffed and shut your eyes, head rolling to the side. You tried to just focus on Spencer’s touch and feel, but he stopped further motions.

You were so beautiful; in every moment of your lives, but especially like this. Spencer paused for a minute, eyes boring into every centimeter of your figure to burn the image of you into his brain. Your hair splayed over the desk, reminiscent of an angel’s halo; eyes screwed shut with smeared mascara at the corners; glossed lips parted in desire. Oh, how delicious they’d look wrapped around his dick. Your inviting, stocking-clad legs held open just for him, manicured fingers digging into the back of your knees. Spencer’s cock excitedly twitched inside of you once his gaze reached your glistening, swollen pussy, the puffy lips gripping the base of him. His hands wrapped around your own, gripping tight, using them and your legs for balance as he slowly pulled his cock out of your entrance, leaving just the tip inside. He was mesmerized, it was a sight he’d seen many times before and was sure to see much more of in the future, but it hypnotized him anyway. He watched as your pussy clenched around him in a failed attempt to keep him in or pull him back, but Spencer wasn’t going to let that happen just yet. His tip pulled out just a bit further before pushing back in a centimeter, repeating the sequence a few more times, playing with your gaping slit. You tried to suck his cock back into you, but Spencer resisted. One more motion and the head of his dick popped out of your clutches with an audible squelch. He reached down this time, grabbing and rubbing his length against your cunt- side to side, up and down. Moans and expletives repeatedly left your mouth, but Spencer continued with a drunken smile on his lips. He slapped the head of his cock against your clit, causing you to twitch and yelp. He loved the reaction, prompting a couple more hits with the same response.

“Spencie…” you whined, ungraciously curling your hips up to gain more friction.

He was about to give in, but there was one other part of you he needed to see. With a single motion, he gripped the outside of your thighs and pulled your body further down the desk, dick sliding against your clit.

“Oh, shit!” you let out, your head craning to look up at him.

Spencer roughly pawed at your dress. He first pulled at the top, but it wouldn’t open up more to give him what he wanted, the belt positioned in the way. He moved on, pushing the skirt even high up, bunching it around your waist. He sighed in delight. The delicate filigree of your black garter belt laying right below your belly button stared up at him seductively, begging him to touch her. Spencer’s hands had a mind of their own as they palmed over the fabric, fingers moving over and under the top band to snap it against your skin- just like you did to him. The sound wasn’t as sharp, nevertheless it brought him pleasure. You mewed, lips curled up in a satisfied smile. Internally, you chuckled. You knew he loved the silly little piece of lingerie.

It was the last piece of the puzzle, the final key to the terminal level. Spencer grabbed two fistfuls of the garter belt and the bunched fabric of your neglected, cooling underwear and, without warning, swiftly pulled you completely onto his cock. You both yelled as he bottomed out, your eyes blowing wide open and jaw dropping slack open.

“Jesus-fucking-Christ,” Spencer breathed out. The look on your face egged him on. He pulled his cock fully out of you before using your clothing to slam you down onto him again. He stilled for just a second, catching his breath and steadying himself. Before you could utter a single syllable, he began fucking you like there was no tomorrow.

The initial burn faded into sweet bliss. Your pussy fluttered and clenched around Spencer’s dick and he thrusted into you fast and deep. The bruising feeling of his tip pounding into your cervix gave way to a more intense sensation, your orgasm bubbling back up inside. His powerful motions caused your arms to fly up and Spencer deliriously watched your mouth-watering tits bounce up, down, up, down. Your hands pushed against the wall, trying to prevent your head from hitting it. Although at first you both tried to halter your noises, it proved fruitless. Inattentively, you let your moans and gasps and grunts stretch out to be as loud as they so pleased. The pleasure was so overwhelming, but the desire to watch Spencer fuck you was stronger. His hair flopped around at the sides, the strands at his hairline pasted to his forehead with sweat. He looked utterly pornographic, clothes still on but extremely tousled and uncentered. Sleeves pushed up, collar spread open, tie unevenly loose. His belt buckle clanged against itself, hanging from the trousers still draped around his mid-thighs. You removed one of your hands from the wall, pushing up the front of his body as much as you could, instead. You moved the bottom of his shirt and sweater vest to claw at his abdomen, focusing on the happy trail you loved to lick up.

Spencer felt the same way as you. He fought to keep his eyes open, gaze flitting all over your body and face instead. You were intoxicating. When your own wandering eyes met his as your hand came down to his lower stomach, he let out a particularly loud moan, pounding into your even harder. The intensity had you latching onto his wrist. Just when you thought it couldn’t feel better, Spencer moved his thumbs down to your cunt, pushing your swollen pussy lips together around his moving cock before shifting them to press against your clit.

“Holy fuck!” You let out, eyes screwing shut as your other hand left the wall to desperately match your existing hold on Spencer’s wrist. He rubbed in circles with one thumb as best he could, the other pressing into your fatty labia where he knew you had a sensitive spot. You began squirming, nails digging into Spencer’s skin, and you couldn’t even begin to care about your head lightly hitting the wall. “Spencer! I’m gonna come!”

Spencer rubbed just a bit harder into your clit, earning an enthusiastic, “Just like that!” as your eyes rolled back into your head. He groaned at this, feeling your walls close around his dick.

“That’s it, that’s my girl,” he huffed, maintaining his pace and pressure, “come for me, angel.”

Your core tightened up, and with just a few more thrusts your orgasm came crashing down on you. Waves of blinding white light washed over your body as you gushed around Spencer’s cock with a call of his name. The gripping and flitting of your pussy had Spencer groaning and he quickly shifted his arms, letting go of his hold on your garter belt and underwear to hold on to your waist, your limping legs hooking over his elbows. He didn’t let up his thrusts, chasing the orgasm of his own he was so close to reaching. He pushed the impending feeling down, not wanting to give up the sanctity of your hot cunt just yet, but he couldn’t stop his hips.

As your orgasm began to subside and overstimulation prickled along your nerves, you tried to clench your legs closed, but Spencer wasn’t having any of it. He bent over you to push your legs open and press his forehead back onto yours. “Spencer!” you gasped, staring up at him wide-eyed and frantic. Your hands gripped his flexing forearms, “It’s too much!”

“You’re gonna take it,” he grunted out, fingers digging into the fat of your sides. He shut his eyes and swallowed hard for a second, his thrusts beginning to show signs of faltering. You felt so fucking good he almost wished he didn’t ever have to come, that he could fuck you through orgasm after orgasm without stopping. “You’re a good girl, aren’t you?”

You nodded vigorously, babbling incoherently in agreement through frenzied moans.

“So you’re gonna take it just like this,” he gulped, pushing down a groan at your clenching pussy, “and I’m gonna fucking come inside of you.” His last words came out in a growl, drawing out longer moans from you as his thrusts started to include sloppier grinds.

Spencer's pelvis grounded into your clit, his balls continued to slap against your ass, his erotic words mushed your brain, and soon the overstimulation pulling tears from your eyes turned into ecstasy and you neared a second orgasm. A strewn out, deep “Fuckk,” crawled from Spencer’s throat as your cunt squeezed him in quick succession, followed by your name being whispered and moaned repeatedly like a mantra.

You wanted to come again at the same time as him, and you were right at the edge, just as you knew he was, so you pushed him further to the precipice, “Spencer,” you pleaded breathlessly, “come on, baby.” You rested your hand on his cheek, urging him to open his eyes and look at you. “Fill me up.”

He groaned in response, head dropping down to press against the top of your breasts. A couple more sloppy, hard thrusts and he started “I’m gonna-”

But just before he could finish, you were jolted into stillness by a deafened boom, boom, boom. What the hell?

Someone was at the door.

You let out a yelp, Spencer’s hand immediately flew up to slap against your mouth.

“Reid? What’s going on in there?” You heard from the other side of the door. It was fucking Rossi.

Author's Note: muahaha >:D idk why but this is just how i imagined this piece ending. hope you guys liked ittttt, if you're reading this thanks for sticking to it. should i write a pt.2? i def already know how i'd continue (tho not smutty). did not think smut would be the first spencer fanfic i'd post. thinking of writing a follow up where spencer finally gets his release teehee. i'd love feedback and comments, pls! ty lovelies <3

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader smut #can you tell i loovvee foreplay ehehe #this took me over a week to write lmao #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fic #criminal minds imagine #dr spencer reid

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townpostin · 5 months ago

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Dhalbhumgarh Airport Project Faces Hurdles as Forest Clearance Returned for Revisions

The Ministry of Environment, Forest and Climate Change requests more details on Dhalbhumgarh Airport’s forest clearance proposal, clarifying the site isn’t within the Elephant Corridor. The Ministry of Environment, Forest and Climate Change (MoEF&CC) has returned the Dhalbhumgarh Airport project’s forest clearance proposal to the Jharkhand government, seeking additional information and…

#compensatory afforestation #Dhalbhumgarh Airport Project #Elephant Corridor Impact #Environmental Impact Assessment #Forest Clearance Delay #human-elephant conflict #Hydrological Study Required #Jharkhand development #MoEF&CC Environmental Review #Singhbhum Elephant Reserve

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zepskies · 4 months ago

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Lost on You - Part 12

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: And here we go, with our Avengers: Civil War moment…

Song Inspo: “I Go to Extremes” by Billy Joel

Word Count: 5.1K

Tags/Warnings: Violence, blood, and death. Angst, peril, hurt/comfort, and fluff.

🎵 YouTube Playlist || Spotify Playlist

🎙️ Series Masterlist

Part 12: A Fire in the Blood

Ben walked into the kitchen the next morning in search of coffee and food. He added some grounds to the coffeemaker on the counter and grabbed a bagel from the fridge, then slammed the door shut.

“All right, get the fuck out,” he said, as if to an empty room. “I’m gonna lose my breakfast before I even eat it.”

Slowly, Charlie and Donna stood up from behind the kitchen island. Both of them looked wrecked. Her hair was wild and disheveled. He had dark red lipstick smudged all around his mouth and neck. Their clothes were bundled in their hands, but they needed no further prompting to run butt-ass naked out of the kitchen. Ben shook his head.

“Fucking animals,” he muttered.

But he didn’t blame them for being bored.

Meanwhile down the hall, Donna pulled Charlie into the shower with her. She got him to start washing her hair while she bathed the rest of herself with a bar of soap.

“He took it a lot better than I expected,” she said.

“Well, he’s probably known since at least last night,” Charlie said, smirking. “The man’s got super hearing, and you didn’t exactly keep it down.”

She reached back to smack his thigh teasingly. “That’s not what I meant. I just thought he’d raise more hell.”

She actually frowned at the thought. Part of her had indulged with Charlie because she thought it might piss Ben off, but to her surprise, he didn’t seem to give much of a fuck. In the past, he once snapped a man’s wrist for touching her ass at a gala. In fact, he’d ruined a lot of perfectly good hookup opportunities for her by being his jealous, caveman self, even though he was whoring himself out with any willing female.

So now, either Ben hated her that much, or…he actually did care about you.

Ben answered his cell when it rang. It was a familiar number.

Arthur. This better be fucking it.

“Did you find her?” he asked.

“Yeah, I found her,” Arthur said, with a grim sigh. “You’re not gonna like it.”

“Where?” Ben demanded. His hand clenched on the phone, threatening to crack the frame.

“Nottingham, West Virginia. It’s one of Vought’s most high-security labs. I didn’t even have clearance to know about it when I worked there,” he said. “It’s easy to miss though. Somewhere between a national forest and a couple of cemeteries.”

“Good enough for me,” Ben said. He finished his coffee in one quick slurp and headed over to his room to get the rest of his suit on. He was only half dressed.

“I hope you find her. Now I’ll be fucking off to Belize. Stan’s probably already got eyes on me,” said Arthur.

“Don’t you worry about Stan. After I get Sirena, I’m chopping the head off the fucking snake,” Ben said angrily.

“Okay, well, good luck to ya.”

After hanging up and lacing up his boots, Ben headed out of the room and down the hall. He banged a fist on the bathroom door, hard enough to rattle its hinges.

“Suit up, kids! We’re headed out.”

Arthur’s directions were direct enough. Donna had to park her car somewhere along the main road, but it was another mile or so before Ben finally found what they were looking for: a solitary building that looked like a nondescript farmhouse from the outside.

“This is their top secret high-security lab?” Charlie said. “Looks abandoned.”

“That’s exactly how they want it to look,” Ben said. It reminded him of the lab in Siberia. He was willing to bet that the lab itself ran several stories and floors underground.

Once they stepped out from the safety of the trees, gunshots rained from above and up ahead. There was a line of armed guards emerging from the front and the back of the building, while a helicopter descended from above.

Donna took out most of the guards on the ground, while Charlie shot his guns at the helicopter and took out the glass in the windshield. Ben threw up his shield at it, causing irreparable damage to the vessel. The pilot was forced to initiate a crash landing.

The helicopter doors opened, revealing Black Noir. He grabbed another man and jumped from the helicopter. The other man screamed, but the landing was swift. Noir made sure that Mindstorm landed on his feet, more or less, while the helicopter carved into the ground behind them and combusted.

Ah, the gang’s all here, Ben thought grimly. It saved him the trouble of hunting those two down as well.

“So it’s true,” Mindstorm said, taking in the sight of Ben with both astonishment and dread.

“Hey, Dan,” said Ben. “Looking rough.”

It was true. The man appeared to be a shell of his former self; thin, with lines of age around his eyes and across his forehead, his skin pale and splotchy. A decade of paranoia and reclusion hadn’t done much good for Dan. Noir must've scrounged him up from his hiding hole, like fishing out a rat from the sewer.

“Look, we don’t have to do this,” Charlie tried. “Just let him get Sirena out of there. After what you guys did, she doesn’t deserve that.”

Ben glanced at his former sidekick. He actually seemed sincere.

Too bad Noir wasn’t about to go for it. He had Vought’s dick so far up his ass, he wouldn’t likely take a shit without Stan Edgar’s say so. He crouched into a fighting stance and unsheathed his katana. The rest of the guards poured in to flank around him and Mindstorm.

Ben rolled a crack out of his neck.

“Fine. If it’s a war you want, it’s a war you’ll fucking get,” he said.

Noir started charging at him first, but Donna shot off a fireball in his direction.

Chaos ignited from there.

Something’s wrong. You felt it, with so many energies converging high above you. It must’ve meant that you were underground, yet again.

There were still men in the compound itself. You now felt their energies being stuffed out, closer and closer in your direction.

Ben? You wondered. You stood up from your cot in nervous anticipation, wrapping your arms protectively around yourself. After Vogelbaum dropped his news, you’d spent the entire night battling your shock, followed shortly by your panic.

No matter what they did to you now, there was no way you were going to let them hurt your child.

Ben…

More than anything, you wanted to see him. You wanted to tell him that his dream was coming true, whether he was ready for it or not…

But there was something coming, and it wasn’t him. You would’ve felt it if it was him. By the rate the men were dying somewhere outside of your cell, however, it was getting closer to your cell. For some reason, you just couldn’t identify the energy signature itself.

You got your answer when your cell door forcibly opened. You gaped in shock.

“Countess?” you said.

She was panting for breath, but she whipped a sweaty lock of red hair out of her eyes and reached out a gloved hand for you.

“Come on, before I change my fucking mind,” she said.

You were still in shock, but you managed to break yourself out of it to follow her out of the cell. You had to stop short though, as an entire unit of Vought security came pouring into the hall with raised guns.

You opened your mouth and began your siren song. Within seconds, every man curled in on themselves as they screamed in pain. Some of them managed to rip their helmets off as they gripped their heads. Tears of blood dripped down from their eyes, and they all soon fell into lifeless heaps.

You stopped singing, and your eyes faded from glowing violet to their normal hue. Donna looked at you, both stunned and wary.

“Don’t worry. It doesn’t work on women. Even frigid cunts like you,” you said with a grin.

She smirked back. “Come on then.”

“Where’s Ben?” you asked, joining her in hastening down the hall.

“Up there fighting,” she replied, pointing up to the ceiling. “You’re about fifteen floors down from the outside world.”

“Fucking figures,” you muttered, but your heart swelled to know that Ben was here, and he was all right. Your hand went to your lower belly on reflex.

“Wait,” you gasped, as something occurred to you. “We need to find someone.”

“What the fuck do you mean? We need to get out of here!” Donna said.

“There’s a kid somewhere in here, and I’m not leaving without him,” you snapped. You began opening doors where you sensed a presence inside. Most often it was a lab technician or other employee, and Donna vaporized them.

You opened one door and found Dr. Vogelbaum. Finally, you saw him react with widening eyes. You felt his fear.

Donna eviscerated him too, in a bloody mess of limbs.

You grimaced at the gore, but you paused, noticing a thick file on the man’s desk.

THE HOMELANDER PROJECTwas stamped at the top in large red letters. You picked your way through the mess and grabbed the file. Then you and Donna continued heading down the hall.

There at the end was a red door. Something about it called to you. You reached out with your awareness, and you felt a familiar male energy, young and scared and alone.

You beckoned Donna over. The door was heavy and locked, but the two of you worked together to twist it open by its large circular handle, like the hatch on a submarine. It swung open with a creak, and inside the room was a bare white cell, not unlike yours.

A young boy sat against the wall, arms wrapped around his knees, wearing a white shirt and plain gray sweatpants. He was blonde and blue-eyed, and he felt familiar to you on-sight.

“John?” you said, stepping inside the cell.

He tilted his head, like he recognized your voice. He said your name uncertainly as he got up to his feet.

“Yeah, it’s me,” you said, approaching him with cautious steps. “I’m getting out of here, but I want you to come with me.”

John looked reluctant, even as he glanced at your outstretched hand.

“Vogelbaum is gone. He can’t hurt you anymore,” you said. “John, please, let me help you.”

After a moment of his indecision, John reached out and carefully grasped your hand. You led him out of the cell, and encouraged him to stay close to you when you and Donna started back towards the elevators.

The three of you rode all the way up to the top level, where the sounds of an epic fight raged behind the doors of the building. Still, it was a familiar balm to your frayed mind to step outside those doors and find a bright sun beating down on a dusty clearing. Beyond it was layers of forest trees.

Donna said that her car was about a mile in that direction, but before you guys could attempt to get to safety, Noir landed right in front of you.

“Irving—” you said in warning.

Donna raised her hands, prepared to blast him into pieces, but John threw the first punch. It landed squarely in Noir’s chest and had him flying several feet away, into a nearby tree. Your mouth fell open in shock as you gave the kid a wide-eyed look.

John smiled up at you, in a—Did I do good?—kind of way.

“Holy shit,” Donna muttered.

You huffed a short laugh and laid a hand on his shoulder. “Good job, bud.”

You shifted your attention to the rest of the battle, and it caught on Ben with a gasp. He was striding toward Mindstorm with his shield held in front of him. He backhanded Mindstorm in the face and quickly got him pinned on the ground.

Charlie was already lying unconscious, trapped in his own mind. Donna went to try and help him, while you started running headfirst toward the other two men.

“Ben!” you shouted out.

He glanced up at you on reflex, but it proved to be an unfortunate distraction, giving Mindstorm the opening he needed to reach out a hand and touch Ben’s forehead. His eyes closed and he collapsed to the ground.

“No!” the ragged yell tore from your throat. You knew full well what Mindstorm was capable of.

You rushed forward and tried to capture Mindstorm with your siren song. It managed to hold him in place, making him grip at his temples with strain. You knew you didn’t totally have him under your spell, however. Not until you knelt down in front of him and grabbed his face with both hands. Your eyes illuminated brighter as you focused all of your power on him.

Mindstorm fought it tooth and nail, but ultimately, the pull of you was too much. He screamed as blood trailed down his face from his eyes, nose, and ears, until his voice faded, and his blue eyes became unseeing. When you released him, he slumped into a heap.

You fell back onto your ass and heaved for breath. All the while, you stared at his unseeing eyes. Part of you felt sick with yourself. The other part felt vindicated, and a little more free.

With a gasp, you remembered Ben. You turned over and crawled over to his body where he laid unconscious in the dirt and dead leaves.

Fuck. You shouldn’t have killed Mindstorm. He was the only one who could’ve brought him out of this.

Unless…

An idea struck you, and you knew you had to try. You shuffled onto your knees and took Ben’s face carefully in your shaking hands. You closed your eyes.

Focusing your powers on his being, you entered his mind. You waded through waves of darkness as they lapped at you, trying to draw you in. But you were a brighter light. You went deeper, layer by layer.

You began to see moving images, like scenes from a reel. You saw his father, berating him. You saw the moment Compound V was injected into his arm, immediately filling his veins with pain. You saw his mother’s funeral, a day marked by falling snow and a stoic set of Ben’s young shoulders.

You saw so many days and nights at the facility where you both were kept, but one in particular struck at your own heart—the day Dr. Eisenstein had you brought you into Ben’s cell and slammed you down on the table in front of him, prepared to inject an unknown experimental serum into your body.

Ben’s face seemed angry on the outside, but this deep inside his mind, you felt his anger, as well as his fear, and his desire to protect you.

You weren’t sure it would work, but you needed to get his attention somehow. You needed to wake him up.

“Ben!” you shouted to him.

To your relief, he actually looked over at you, meeting your gaze with surprise in his own.

Until you were ripped away from him, out of his mind and into the waking world. Your bleary eyes eventually focused on the dark shape above you. On Black Noir.

He hauled you up by your arms and began to drag you across the clearing, away from Ben.

“Stop!” you struggled. Noir ignored you, just tightening his hold.

He dragged you past Donna’s body. She was dying on the ground, with her throat cut and bubbling with blood. Your eyes widened, but you quickly took in the rest of the clearing.

John was trapped under the massive trunk of a fallen tree, struggling to get up. He was being swarmed by Vought security guards.

Just over Noir’s shoulder, you caught sight of Ben. He was starting to wake up, and he turned over and pushed himself up onto one knee. Relief filled your chest.

In a fit of desperation, you dug your heels into the ground. “Let go! Let go of me!”

You opened your mouth and took in a breath to sing, but how quickly Noir’s hand wrapped around your throat, choking the breath right out of you. He tightened his hold, little by little, until you began to feel lightheaded. Panic gripped at your heart.

“Stop, Noir, please! I’m pregnant!” you pleaded, with tears in your eyes.

Beyond him, you met Ben’s gaze. His mouth fell open as he stared at you, after half scrambling to his feet.

You returned your attention to Noir when you realized you could feel his shock, and the tension through your hand on his glove. He glanced over his shoulder at Ben, then back at your tearful eyes. You felt Noir’s disgust, swiftly followed by his anger.

You gasped when he let you go, just so he could unsheathe his weapon. Ben gritted his teeth in anger. Before he could throw his shield, Noir swung his katana down on you.

You instinctively raised up your arms to protect yourself, but the blade only shattered against your skin. You raised your head, blinking in shock. You clenched your fists, and you realized that you felt different, somehow. You were strong.

You shoved Noir hard in the chest, and he flew several feet away, rolling in the dirt as he landed.

Ben ran over to join you. He wrapped his non-shield wielding arm around your waist and pulled you tight against him. You melted into him in relief, resting your head against his chest.

“I don’t know how I did that,” you admitted.

“Looks like knocking you up comes with some added perks,” he said, grinning down at you.

Once you understood what he meant, another wave of shock hit you. The life inside you was not only carrying his genes, but some of his power as well, making you strong.

You looked up at his smug grin and rolled your eyes in amusement, but you also wanted to grab his face and pull him down for a kiss. The look in his eyes told you he wanted to oblige, but you both stopped short, coming to attention when you saw Noir picking himself up from the ground.

“I’ve got him,” Ben said darkly. He let go of you and took a step toward Noir, putting himself in front of you.

Two old enemies faced each other. This time, Ben began to make the first move.

Just then, a pair of red laser beams broke through the clearing and cut through Noir’s mask and skull. He dropped to his knees, and then fell to the ground.

What the hell…

Slowly you turned back to see that John had broken free of the guards. All of them lied either passed out or dead at his feet. He stepped over them and went to your side with shaky hands, shocked at even his own power. Had he known he could do that?

“Are you okay?” he asked you in concern.

You were still reeling, but you nodded and grasped his shoulder. Ben was unsettled looking at John. You knew the look on his face. He wasn’t sure whether the kid was a threat as well. Ben slid an arm around your waist and pulled you closer to him.

“Ben, this is John,” you explained. “He was a ‘guest’ in the lab, same as me.”

Ben seized up the kid. Eventually he rested his shield on the ground and reached out his hand.

“John, huh?”

The kid nodded and shook his hand. “Y-Yes, sir.”

“That’s a strong name,” Ben said. John smiled.

With that small peace won, you slipped away from Ben and went to Charlie. You knelt down and felt for his pulse at his neck. You shook your head in sadness.

“He’s gone,” you said. Ben helped you stand again.

You were disappointed about Donna too, even knowing she was the one who helped sell you out in the first place. You were sure it was probably under duress, but she had saved you today.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Ben said. You agreed, but first, you looked back at the lab.

“They took vials of my blood. God knows what else they have in there,” you said.

“They took your fucking blood?” he said, through furrowed brows.

“Yeah, that’s how I know I’m pregnant,” you said, again, holding a hand to your belly. Ben softened slightly at that.

He blew out a breath and nodded. “Okay, you and the kid hang back. Far back.”

You grasped John’s shoulder and led him over to the dense line of trees. You both hunkered down behind a fallen tree trunk and watched Ben approach the lab.

He set a firm stance and concentrated, until his chest glowed with power. Letting loose a yell of strain, he summoned a blast that destroyed the entire building. It not only created a backlash of debris and flames, but it also shook the earth. He stalked forward and angled the blast downward, so that it would consume the floors below as well.

You had to duck down further as the impact of the blast was too much. John covered you with his arms around your shoulders.

When it was over, Ben struggled to regain his breath. He even stumbled a bit on his way back to you, but he kept a steady pace, until he found you and the kid again. Ben reached a hand for you and once again helped you up from the ground, guiding you into his arms.

His chest still felt hot, but you didn’t care. You curled a hand around the back of his neck and brought him down to you for a kiss. It was relief, it was passion, and it was home.

You parted slowly, his forehead pressing against yours.

“I love you,” you whispered into the small space in between.

Releasing a subtle breath, Ben nodded. You opened your eyes and cupped his cheek.

“You can say it,” you prompted, teasingly. “It’s not gonna kill you.”

You could hazard a guess at what he was thinking. This close, you could feel him, and his reluctance. But his lips hinted at a smile.

“Yeah, I fucking love you,” he said. He thumbed at your chin, his gaze roaming over your face before he met your eyes. “I love you.”

Tears made your vision blur a little. You nodded, smiling, and reached up on your toes for another kiss.

“Are you guys done yet?” John asked. He shifted on his feet, all antsy and tired. “Can we go?”

Ben’s face fell into annoyance at the kid. You gave him a rueful smile, and one last stroke of his cheek.

“The car’s about a mile out,” Ben said.

“Yep,” you said. “I guess we start walking.”

John slept in the backseat of the car while Ben drove down the highway going northeast. His gaze roamed over you as you stared out the window, seemingly calm with that file you stole from Vogelbaum’s office resting on your lap.

With a sigh, you turned your attention to it. Ben couldn’t help but distract you first. His hand reached over to rest on your thigh.

“Hey,” he said. You perked up at him.

“You okay?” he asked. You smiled a little and slipped your hand over his.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Considering.”

He alternated between watching the road and watching you a bit closer.

“Did they hurt you?” he pressed. You shook your head, squeezing his hand.

“No. They pretty much left me alone,” you said, though his concern warmed you. You also sensed something else underneath…the sting of regret. It took him a few beats, but he eventually spoke.

“I shouldn’t have let you go out alone,” he said, briefly meeting your eyes. “I should’ve been there.”

It was as close to an apology as you’d ever gotten from him. You almost smiled.

“Look, we’re here now,” you said. “Pretty soon, this is all just going to be a bad memory we can put behind us, like everything else.”

You rubbed his arm and glanced down at the file sitting on your lap. Your curiosity had you flipping it open. The more you read over its contents, the more your face slackened in shock.

“Oh my God, Ben,” you whispered.

“What?”

“Pull over for a minute.”

“We can’t stop here. We need to get to the airport.”

“This is important. Stop the car.”

He huffed in annoyance, but he pulled the car over. He left the car running and got out along with you.

You later leaned against the passenger side while he read the file. You watched the shock descend over his face as it all began to click together in his mind. He turned and pointed at the backseat of the car.

“He’s…”

“Yeah,” you said.

“Christ on a damn cross,” he said.

“Yeah,” you repeated. You covered your mouth with a hand. “And the poor kid’s been kept in that basement his whole damn life… It was Vogelbaum’s project, but how did he do it?”

A realization fell over Ben. He joined you in leaning against the car. The file fell to his side.

“Back in…’81. No, beginning of ’83, before you joined up. Vogelbaum wanted a sample of my swimmers for an experiment. Something about genetics,” he said. He still remembered the Penthouse Forum he used to give his “sample.”

June. Danielle Deneux. Bush like a Pomeranian. He almost smiled at the memory, but the rest of it soured that part for him.

You gave him an incredulous look. “And you didn’t ask questions about what they were going to use your sperm for?”

Ben rolled his eyes and gave you the file. You shook your head.

“The point is, John is…more or less your son,” you said.

“What?!” John exclaimed. He spooked you and Ben when he popped up in the car window.

You should’ve known he’d have enhanced hearing. Just like his father.

John came out of the car, and both father and son looked at one another in assessing ways. Even though they had different coloring, you started to notice the similar shape of their jawlines, the line of their noses. John soon had tears in his eyes.

“You…you’re my dad?” he said.

Ben’s hands went to his hips. His posture was stiff and awkward.

“I guess I am,” he said.

He didn’t expect the way John literally flew over and hugged him with a strength that impacted Ben. He grunted and grabbed the kid’s shoulders.

“Okay, all right, lock it up. Don’t be a little girl about it.”

John’s face fell with dejection, but he dropped his arms and took a step back. You became both dismayed and angry.

“Ben!” you said sharply. “Let your son hug you, for fuck’s sake.”

He shot you a warning look, but you had your hand on John’s shoulder as you glared back at Ben. He crossed his arms.

Then he uncrossed them with an exasperated huff. He went to John and dropped a hand on his shoulder. Smiling in satisfaction, you moved back to give them a moment.

Ben looked down at the kid’s face. His blonde hair and blue eyes weren’t his. He must’ve taken after his mother, whoever she was, or whatever genetics Vogelbaum manipulated, but he did see his own strong jaw in the kid.

“Well, it’s unfortunate that we couldn’t meet sooner, but…looks like you’re my son,” said Ben. “I'm thinking you want to stick around with us.”

John nodded vigorously.

“All right,” Ben said. “Then let’s get going.”

John nodded again, quickly wiping at his face to clear away his tears.

Good, Ben thought with a quirk of his lips. He squeezed John’s shoulder and let him go, so he could return to the driver’s side of the car. You gave John a warm hug. Ben saw it through the window and almost shook his head. He could already tell that you were going to try to mother that boy.

Somehow, that thought just softened him, at least a little. Because it reminded him that you were carrying his child as well. Not to mention, his blood was making you nice and strong.

When you slid into the passenger seat, he grabbed your hand and pressed a kiss over your knuckles. You smiled at him.

“Where are we gonna go?” John asked.

Ben glanced at him in the rearview mirror. Ben's brows drew together as his expression firmed.

“To finish what we started,” he said.

You knew what that meant. He wanted to go to New York to finish off Stan Edgar, Stillwell, and anyone else who had a hand in their capture.

“Ben, they’ll never stop trying to get him back,” you said, gesturing at John. “And…when Vogelbaum took my blood, he said they wanted to monitor me. Apparently this has never happened before…a supe getting another supe pregnant.”

Ben paused.

“He talked like I was a rat in his lab, and he wanted to document the findings,” you said, as tears welled up in your eyes and made your throat tight with emotion, and the remnants of dread.

Ben frowned and squeezed your hand.

“That’s not fucking happening,” he said. You sighed and wiped at your cheek. After taking a few steadying breaths, you managed to get a hold of yourself.

“If we go back to New York, it’s a big risk,” you said.

This time, Ben actually considered what you were saying. He was stubborn though.

“I can’t just fucking let it go. What Stan Edgar did, what they all did—”

“If you take out Stan, they’ll just put another one in his place. I doubt it’ll ever end,” you said. You moved his hand to your stomach. “But if you want this. If you want a family, this is it.”

Ben glanced down at his hand under yours, and then your face. As much as he wanted the rest of his revenge, he also wanted, and needed to protect you. He couldn’t make another mistake like last time. If you were taken from him again, he’d have no one to blame but himself.

That also posed a harder question. Where the hell could he take you where you’d be safe? Even Arthur had fucked off to Belize.

Ben stroked your hand in contemplation…until an idea came to him.

A grin raised his lips.

“All right,” he said. “How do you feel about Colombia?”

AN: Lol! Suffice to say, there's going to be a big BMD easter egg in the Epilogue, but did you like how the final battle shook out? Was there anything that surprised you? Do you wish some members of Payback had lived?

I went back and forth on how some characters would meet their end, but I felt that this is the story I wanted to tell, with her, Ben, and John escaping together and forming their strange new family. 😂💚

Next Time: The Epilogue...

A phone dock rested on the coffee table. The call was on speaker.

“That child represents a multi-million-dollar investment,” said Stan Edgar.

“You should’ve thought about that before you shipped us off to motherfucking Siberia,” Ben snapped. “Hell, before you decided to steal my goddamn DNA. But guess fucking what. He’s my son. He belongs with me.”

You gave him a look of pride, resting a hand on his thigh in support. He glanced at you and grabbed your hand.

“You’re not leaving me with much recourse here, Soldier Boy,” Stan replied.

Ben leaned forward. He took that as a very real threat.

▶️ Keep Reading: The Epilogue

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