Have fun with your work

The Baxter Building lab was quiet. You had the entire, elongated room to yourself, from the workstations to the monitors. It felt like you had spent every waking moment since the Excelsior went up into space in that damn room. Every inch of Reed’s notes had been combed through, you’d made some minor adjustments to the bridge teleportation devices based on Reed’s notes, and had reached the point of rereading old notes and studies to try and fill the void.

Sue’s warm presence couldn’t be felt in every room of the building. She wasn’t sneaking into the kitchen to grab yet another craving during the day, even though she muttered to herself loud enough for you to hear that she was going to spoil her appetite. The scent of her perfume had slowly fallen from the air, it no longer clung to the cushions of the living room couch, could no longer be smelled simply from stepping past her bedroom door.

The kitchen felt lonely without Ben. There was no one to taste test your dishes, make recommendations of the perfect blend of spices to add to your sauces. Even picking up Maisie’s cookies felt sad, knowing you didn’t need to grab any of those delicious black and white ones for your friend to enjoy.

Even Herbie’s missing presence could be felt in every room. No little beeps down the hallway in the morning, his little arguments with Reed in the lab, or the little humming he would do when he’d help Ben in the kitchen.

The Baxter Building felt cold without Johnny Storm.

You felt cold without Johnny Storm.

Four years of working with Reed, of knowing this family, and it was after they’d been gone for three days that it finally hit you. Over the course of those four years, you had never been apart from any of them for more than a week. Every day of your life was spent in that building, working at Reed’s side, cooking with Ben, talking with Sue over the dinner table, or curled up beside Johnny on the couch for whatever movie Channel 2 was playing that night.

It took that long for you to realize that the line between your work and personal life, the one that you had been trying so hard not to muddle up, had blurred a long time ago.

At that realization, you hadn’t left the tower since. Your apartment was long forgotten. Instead, Johnny’s bed became yours.

His warmth didn’t flood the sheets anymore, not without him to lie in them. They were cold, the silk pillowcases cool to the touch every time you laid your head upon them. Fall was quickly winding down, though, winter on the horizon, and you craved the warmth your favorite flame boy gave off. One night to love him how you truly did wasn’t enough. His closet very quickly became your own, too.

Lynne hadn’t said anything the first time you met her in the boardroom for a meeting, but the glance she shot your way said it all. Heels, highwaisted black pants with a tucked in white blouse, but the oversized off-red jacket thrown over your shoulders was the dead give away. That, and what you knew was the faraway look in your eyes.

Reed had left you in charge to speak on his behalf, which prompted Lynne to drag you into any and all meetings for the Future Foundation. You attended, wore a smile, spoke when spoken to. Every other minute was spent staring out the windows, eyes on the skies, praying to see the Excelsior. All while the faint smell of Johnny’s jacket, whether it was his cologne or just simply him, reminded you that he wasn’t here with you.

One single night with Johnny Storm and you were a goner.

Today was no different than the last thirty days. An 8 a.m. meeting with Lynne and the Future Foundation, followed by hours holed up in the lab, trying not to let your brain wander.

The bridge teleportation device sat in front of you, the soldering fixed to strengthen the energy arms, while the other sat across the room at Reed’s workstation. The dress you had worn for the meeting was discarded, replaced instead with a pair of sleep pants you kept in the guest room and Johnny’s faded Elvis t-shirt he’d had as long as you had known him.

Johnny. What if he was dead? What if they all were-

A quick bang of your hand against the workstation was enough to break you from your thoughts, those terrible thoughts that you tried not to have. It was impossible to outrun them, though. A month of no contact from the Excelsior, no updates, no word from the four up there in space. Complete radio silence, and it only had your nerves growing by the minute.

There was a beeping across the room, the same beeping that had been occurring for the last 45 minutes. With one swift press of your keyboard, you silenced it, keeping your attention entirely on the device in front of you. It was just the alert for a message, most likely from Lynne trying to bring you into yet another meeting. You didn’t have the energy for that, not now.

Not when your mind was constantly repeating those final moments one month ago.

Johnny’s hands were warm, they were always warm. But with you, they were warm in a different way, a softer way. He cradled your cheeks in his hands, thumbs running a smooth line back and forth over your flushed skin. All you could do was press a small kiss to the part of his palm exposed, while your eyes stayed trained out the glass panels beside you leading up the walkway to the Excelsior. Reed, Sue and Ben stood with Lynne, the cheers of the city all lining the sidewalks booming through the walls.

“Can you look at me?”

You did, but it felt like a gut punch to do so. There he was, the man you loved, standing before you in that blue and white spacesuit. “J. Storm” embroidered over his right chest.

“It’s not fair,” you said after a moment, swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat. “I tell you I love you and now you’re just jet setting off to space.”

Johnny’s lips quirked up slightly at that, his fingers pinching at your cheek.

“I’ve got a reputation, baby, I can’t be falling in love. Have to run away before you suck me into your orbit,”

The swift punch you laid to his abdomen did nothing but force a laugh from his throat, the layers of the suit stopping the force of your outburst. His hands caught yours, still balled in a fist, as he laid a gentle kiss to each knuckle cradled in his hands. You did your best not to melt at the sight alone.

“I think we remember last night very differently, Johnny. You were the one who said I love you first,”

His lips hummed against your knuckles, and you could feel the smirk growing on his lips as those blue eyes darted back to you.

“Oh, believe me, I remember last night perfectly. Especially the moment I had my head buried between your le-”

He caught your other fist easily, laughter ringing through the air. Using the leverage of both of your hands in his, Johnny tugged you into his chest with ease, curling his arms around your back with a squeeze.

“Don’t go flirting with the herald while you’re in space,” you tried desperately to lighten the mood, chin resting on his chest to look up at him. Even as you tried to lighten the mood, you knew the tears forming behind your eyes were inevitable. “Don’t forget about me up there.”

One of his arms left its place around your waist in an instant, holding it up straight for you to see. The edge of his suit sleeve fell down just slightly, letting the overhead lights glint off that familiar silver bracelet around his wrist.

“You remember this? You got it for me for my birthday two years ago, and I haven’t taken it off since,” his arm fell back down, hand curling around the back of your head to press a kiss directly to your hairline. “You’re always with me, I couldn't forget you even if I tried.”

Fuck Johnny Storm and those stupid lines once again. Burying your head into his chest, wishing the suit wasn’t there so you could feel his heat, the smile that crawled onto your lips was inevitable as you hugged him tightly.

“Just come back to me,” your words were muttered out against his chest, silently willing your tears to stay at bay until he was gone. “If you die up there, I’m just going to regret ignoring this for four years even more.”

His body shook with laughter. Johnny’s glove-covered hand left the back of your neck and curled around your neck, just slightly tugging on your hair to pull your head back. He didn’t say a word, barely gave you a chance to think, before he tugged you up into a kiss–gentle, soft, but pressed to your lips with every ounce of love in his body. A love so overwhelming you were sure your knees would give out right then and there.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily, baby,” his words were whispered against your lips like a promise. “You’re stuck with me now.”

But what if you’d already lost him? A month with no contact…there was no telling what could have occurred up there.

“Alright, bridge teleportation test six,” you muttered to yourself with a shake of your head, running a hand down your face and trying to rub the sleep from your under eyes and fight away the intrusive thoughts plaguing your mind. The switch was placed in front of you, a new egg balanced on the stand in the middle, and one of Reed’s many notebooks open beside you. Safety glasses on, you took a deep breath. “Let’s hope this data calibration doesn’t fry the entire eastern seaboard.”

A simple flip of the switch in your hand, and the pulsing white energy of the device was lit up. Three beams of energy, encasing the pearly white egg in a misty sphere of white energy, before it was gone in the blink of an eye. The energy dissipated as you threw your protective glasses down onto the table, whipping around just as the egg reappeared across the lab.

The power flickered off, but you didn’t flinch. Instead, you counted quietly to yourself: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven-

The power to the building flickered back on the second you got to seven. It was enough to bring a miniscule smile to your face, turning to jot that down in your notebook.

“Alright, power back on automatically at seven seconds, up from 15 seconds, which is up from manual breaker override,” your words were mumbled to yourself once again as you noted the new development in your notebook. “I’m pulling power from, at least, seven different boroughs, but at least it’s automatic-”

“Is talking to yourself a new development, or do I not come visit you enough to notice?”

That voice was enough to stop you dead in your tracks. Your body froze at the sound, the sound you knew well. For four years, you’d heard it every single day: moaning about something Reed had done, flirting up a storm with you around every corner, ranting on and on about space. You had heard it moan your name, whisper “I love you” into your skin in the dead of night like a sacred promise.

When you turned, there he was. Still in that blue and white spacesuit he donned the day he left, as if he’d just left yesterday. But that look, the one reserved only for you, was still soft on Johnny Storm’s face, even as his lips ticked up into that impeccable smile you knew so well.

It took a moment of silence, just staring, for your voice to finally find you again.

“Is this real, or am I sleep deprived?”

Johnny laughed, a sound that skipped your heart almost immediately. But that smile softened as your voice broke on every word, sobs already threatening to escape your throat.

“I mean, I’m pretty sure I’m real, but how sleep deprived are you? Lynne said you’ve been sleeping in my bed, and as far as I know that’s a damn comfortable bed-”

“You’re actually here?” your voice cut through his words again, eyes wide as you took that most cautious of steps forward. “You’re…you’re alive?”

If it was even possible, Johnny’s smile softened even more at your words. His arms stretched out, an open invitation.

“I’m here, baby. I thought I told you already, you’re stuck with me,”

That was all you needed to hear before practically flying across the room, launching yourself into Johnny’s arms. He caught you, with ease. He’d always catch you, and you knew that.

The warmth. It was the first thing you felt. His warmth enveloped you in its own separate hug, seeping into your skin and bones. A choked sob fell from your lips before you could stop it, arms curled around his broad shoulders and one hand desperately clinging into the short strands of Johnny’s blonde hair. The wet trail of tears that soaked your cheeks was inevitable, soaking the skin of Johnny’s neck as you buried your head into the crook of it, sobbing through each inhale of that familiar smell of just him.

A month of no little touches. No hugs, no hands brushing your lower back, no thumb dancing over the apple of your cheek. Johnny’s arms felt like home, and god, you never wanted to leave them.

Johnny’s voice was soft as he wrapped your body just as tightly into his own arms. One of those gloveless hands found its home right at the small of your back, while the other cradled the back of your head like something precious. Little whispers of “shhh” accented every phrase muttered directly into your hairline, with every little kiss peppered to your skin: I’m here. We’re okay. I love you.

When the tears subsided, when the worst of the sobs left you, you finally managed to pull back from the now soaked crook of Johnny’s neck. Hands resting on his chest, one over his heart and one over that embroidered “J. Storm”, you finally got a good look at those blue eyes prettier than the sea itself.

Then, you shoved him.

“Whoa–okay, what the hell?” clearly caught off guard, Johnny stumbled back just slightly, eyes wide as he looked at you.

“A month!” you practically shrieked, hands quickly shoving at his chest again. Johnny was slightly more prepared for it this time, but still stumbled back slightly. “A fucking month!”

“Whoa-! Okay, okay, I know, I know!”

“No contact for a fucking month, Jonathan!”

“To be fair, we were literally lightyears away-”

“You could’ve been dead!”

“As you can see, I’m very much not dead,” his hands were ready this time, catching yours as you moved to shove him again. He clutched them in his, holding them tightly against his chest as he shot you an unimpressed look. “If you could stop shoving me for two seconds, that would be really helpful.”

“I won’t stop, because I’m fucking pissed at you-”

It was Johnny’s turn to cut you off with a single tug on your hands. Stumbling into his chest, you didn’t get another word out before he surged forward, connecting his lips with yours.

Your brain didn’t want to give in, but it very quickly lost that battle to both your heart and your body. The air knocked straight from your lungs didn’t matter the second you both collided, the feeling of Johnny’s lips on yours better than oxygen itself. You tore your hands from his, curling them up around his neck in a desperate attempt to hold him as close as possible. Your body curved, molding itself into every part of him.

Johnny was no better. The desperation, the longing in each of his movements was prevalent. His hands grasped at every part of you they could: your arms, your waist, your hips, your thighs. No piece of you seemed good enough for him, no way to hold you close enough, as those heated and slightly chapped lips moved against yours as if devouring you whole. A meal he couldn’t get enough of.

With every semblance of willpower left in your body, your fingers tugged on his hair slightly, separating you for even just a moment. Panting heavily, in sync with one another, you didn’t want to know what you looked like to anyone else. Flushed skin, t-shirt falling off of one shoulder, eyes blown so wide the color almost couldn’t be seen. Johnny was no better.

“Y-You can’t just keep kissing me every time I’m pissed at you, Johnny,”

“It’s such an effective way at shutting you up, though,” he quipped, the stupidly handsome smirk back for just a moment as he dove back in for another kiss before you could retort. When he pulled away, the smirk was gone though, replaced with a face full of guilt as his lips pressed a featherlight mark to the tip of your nose, your forehead, and then to your cheek. “I’m sorry. We made the jump, shit went south, and we lost the FTL engine in the process. Ben had to slingshot us around a neutron star–a literal neutron star–just so we could jump again. We didn’t have comms until just a bit ago.”

“Someone could’ve at least told me you were back,” you weakly tried to argue back, but all the fight had left you now that your brain had finally caught up with the present and accepted that Johnny was here. He was alive, he was okay, and he was with you.

His little smirk was back in seconds at your words, his glance turning to look back toward your workstation.

“Honey, I was standing right outside of that elevator watching you ignore Lynne’s hundredth call of the last hour. She’s been trying to tell you since we made contact with the Foundation that we were landing soon,”

You froze, cursing yourself in your head for ignoring that incessant alert, giving the man before you a sheepish smile in return.

“Well…oops?”

He laughed again, the sound like music to your ears. Johnny took one of your hands in his, bringing it to his lips as he ghosted small kisses over every knuckle of your hand. You just wanted to melt at the sight, a new round of tears threatening to fall as his gaze stayed locked with yours.

“I’m here, you’re okay,”

“I was so scared,” your admittance came out in a hush, sucking in a deep breath to try and stave off the tears again. “I was so scared you guys weren’t coming back.”

“No way I wasn’t coming back to you, not when I’ve finally got you,” his words came easily, like it was the easiest thing in the world for him to say. With a single flick, he uncurled your fingers from your palm, placing a kiss there instead as his next words were mumbled straight into your skin, into your very being. “I wouldn’t leave you. I promise.”

The way he said it, the conviction in his tone, you knew he meant it. A promise he couldn’t keep, one he wouldn’t know he could break until it happened, but a promise he’d fight tooth and nail to keep. For you.

“I’m amending my no flirting in the lab policy. I’m adding in no public displays of affection,”

If your heart had broken to see Johnny in front of you again, it shattered once more when you turned to see Reed and Ben standing outside the elevator doors. Both still clad in their own blue and white space suits as well.

“Come on, we’ve been waiting for these two to figure it out for ages,” Ben tried to reason with his best friend, the semblance of a smile pulling at his rocky lips for just a moment. “He only talked about her every day for a month straight. Give them some leeway, Stretch.”

“Maybe,” Reed commented after a moment after humming in thought. “It is quite nice to see Johnny so soft with someone-”

You hadn’t let your mentor get another word out, crossing the room in seconds to tug him into a tight hug just like you had with Johnny.

The laughter of the boys in the room could be heard as Reed definitely froze in your arms, giving you a light hug back with a short pat against your shoulder blades. Deciding not to torture the man too much, you pulled away after a moment, before quickly slotting yourself into the hold of Ben’s rocky form.

“God, you guys can’t do that to me again,” you muttered just loud enough for them all to hear, rubbing frantically at your face to try and keep another round of tears at bay. “I thought I was going insane.”

Ben shook his head, throwing a pointed look over your shoulder in Johnny’s direction. “You thought you were going insane? That one wouldn’t shut up about you for a month. Love you, kid, but my God I was ready to toss him into space.”

“Uh, given the way she just beat me up for almost not coming home, she probably would’ve found a way to turn you from rock into dust if you did that, buddy,”

The noise of the two’s playful argument was nothing to you as you locked eyes with the one last person you’d yet to see. Blonde hair pulled back, clad in the jumpsuit you knew she always wore under her flight suit, cradling something to her chest as she stood quietly behind the boys.

“Sue,” her name fell from your lips in a breathless huff as you ducked under Ben’s arm, walking quickly toward the woman. Sue smiled in your direction, turning just slightly to the side as she unwrapped the emergency thermal blanket bundled up against her chest.

“Before you get ahead of yourself, there’s someone you should meet,”

And God, was he beautiful. The most perfect little baby cradled right up against Sue’s chest. Wide little eyes like a doe’s, as blue as the ones you had fallen in love with years ago, taking in every little detail of the room. Little tufts of hair matted down to his forehead, body still cradled in the confines of the thermal blanket tucked around him.

Just before Sue, you came to a stop, resting a single hand on her arm. Eyes full of wonder, you couldn’t take your eyes off the little baby now looking up at you.

“Sue…oh my god, you gave birth in space,”

There was a short echo of laughter through the room. Sue joined in, before quickly maneuvering the little baby into her hands, passing him off into your own without warning.

“This is Franklin. Franklin, this is your aunt,”

Holding little Franklin Richards in your arms was surreal. Cuddled into your chest, as if seeking out your warmth, those little blue eyes looked up at you like you were the greatest thing he’d ever seen. It was impossible not to let a little laugh slip past your lips, a tear leaving its trail down your cheek. 

With just a single finger, you brushed the little hairs on his forehead back, trailing it down the side of his face. His little hand came up, tiny fingers wrapping just barely around your finger, holding it in his grasp as he babbled in your arms.

A hand wound its way around your hip, your body tugged back into the warmth of the one you’d come to recognize so easily. Your tear gaze met Johnny’s. The softest smile you’d ever seen was on his face, an emotion swirling in his eyes, as he looked down on your and his nephew, that you’d only come to put a label on a month ago: love.

He pressed a kiss to the side of your head, fingers flexing against your hip, before he placed another kiss to the same spot: firmer, longer.

That was the moment you looked up to the rest of the team, your family, as they stood in front of you now. Behind the tiredness in their eyes, the bags under Reed and Sue’s eyes, you could finally see it written across their features. The notes of terror in Sue’s eyes as she looked down at her son in your arms. The way that Ben looked as if he’d aged a thousand years, carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders suddenly. The guilt that racked each of Reed’s features, followed by a quiet determination you’d come to know so well.

That’s when the pieces of the puzzle finally snapped together in your head.

“Oh god…you couldn’t stop him, could you?”

❤︎

If you had thought that Reed was obsessive over scanning Sue repeatedly while she was pregnant, you had yet to see this side of Reed Richards.

The side that came out when a being predating the universe itself, who hailed himself as the Devourer of Worlds, was threatening to destroy the Earth in what could only be mapped out as a matter of weeks, or even days. Top that off with that same being wanting little baby Franklin Richards for himself, to use him as some kind of successor to his power…yeah, maybe you could slightly understand Reed’s obsessive nature in this sense.

Reed hadn’t let you leave the lab in a matter of three days since they had returned from space. Not that you tried to, wanting just as badly to find a solution that didn’t involve having to give up a child to some kind of space god. Every night you’d passed out on the couches in front of the chalkboards, long after you had forced Reed to retire for the night and go see his wife and son, promising yourself that you’d scan every note, every equation of his, in hopes of seeing something the smartest man in the world couldn’t see.

Every morning, you’d awoken on the lab couch instead of the floor, draped in the blanket that you knew usually sat folded at the end of Johnny’s bed. Even his scent clung to the fireproof fabric, invading your senses, your body begging you to simply go upstairs to him.

You had just gotten him back and now you’d been without him again for three days. It was worth it, though. You had to help Reed find an answer, something that would protect this little family you had found. Your DNA was as normal as it could be, untouched by cosmic rays. You couldn’t help protect them in the way they could protect you, protect the world, but you could do this: help them find a solution. Comb every ounce of data available to you, find something, anything, that could point them in the direction of a solution.

“And you see that building over there? That’s the Empire State Building. Almost 1,500 feet to the very tippy top, and I once watched your uncle fly circles around the top of it,”

Little Franklin Richards babbled some kind of nonsense in your arms, tapping his tiny hand against the glass overlooking the skyline of New York from the living room.

Sue had practically dragged you out of the lab somewhere around 8 at night, telling you to get proper rest somewhere that wasn’t the floor or couch of the lab. You chose to ignore her side remark about how she assumed that wasn’t going to be in the guest room. Reed had gotten a scolding next, a promise from his wife that if he wasn’t upstairs by 9:30 she was coming back for him, too. And the beautiful, innocent sight that was little Franklin in your arms was enough for your break from the lab to be worth it.

“Central Park is that way,” you guided the little baby’s gaze to the right of the darkened skyline, smiling as he followed your gaze. Sue was in the kitchen just feet away, preparing something for Reed to eat when she inevitably dragged him out of the lab. “Way over there, streets and streets away. One time, I watched your uncles throw hot dogs at each other on Bethesda Terrace for ten minutes. They just kept buying them to throw them at each other, your mommy was really over it.”

The cutest of noises left the little baby. That grabby hand came back to you, clutching to the edges of your blouse as those blue eyes looked up at you, wide and beautiful. The sight alone stretched your smile even wider, reaching up a single finger to swipe against the edge of his nose.

“Don’t worry, your uncles are trouble makers when they’re together. You’ll get to see all their shenanigans for the rest of your life,”

If we live that long.

“Seeing you holding a baby is invoking some feelings I didn’t know I had. Is this, like, a secret kink or something?”

The thought that infiltrated your head was gone in seconds, replaced with a playful eyeroll as Johnny stepped up to your side. He leaned over your side, pinching at his nephew’s cheek, before meeting your waiting gaze.

“Really? Can you not be inappropriate around your nephew for, maybe, three seconds?”

The second the words left your lips, you regretted them. Johnny dramatically began to count to three as she shoved your hip as hard as you could into his. It only drew a laugh from him, his hands coming to curl around your hip with a squeeze.

“He can’t understand it, there’s no harm! See, watch: Franklin, do you care that I’m trying to explain to your aunt how incredibly sexy I find her at all times?” even your eyeroll was accented with a grin you desperately tried to bite back. Franklin simply blinked up at Johnny, who threw his hand out to the side in a shrug. “See? No harm, no foul. He’s none the wiser.”

“Doesn’t mean you should talk like that in front of him,”

“Sweetheart,” god, you hated how easily he could make your heart skip a beat. “He’s, like, a month old. He’s not going to remember this conversation in the slightest, until I inevitably repeat it for the rest of my life.”

That drew a laugh out of you. His hand never strayed from its place against your hip as you turned in his hold, now facing him head on so you could fully see that shit-eating smirk on his lips.

“You’re lucky I love you, Johnny Storm,” that simple statement was enough to turn that smirk into a softened smile, reserved just for you. It didn’t stop the pointed look you shot him, though, as you adjusted your hold on baby Franklin. “But get those thoughts out of your head. We said I love you, that doesn’t mean I’m having a baby with you.”

“Right, right, makes sense. I’m thinking we revisit that conversation in about a year,”

“Johnny-”

“You’re so right. God, you’re just a genius, baby,” he cut in again, snapping his fingers as that smile shifted back to that playful smirk. “It's too soon, I have to put a ring on it and keep you all to myself for a bit first. I’ll have to ask Sue where mom’s ring is, though, she always said mom wanted me to give it to someone someday. We’ll put the baby conversation on track for the year and a half to two year range.”

As absurd as a conversation it was, it was enough to draw short laughter from you once again.

He was so good at doing that, so good as simply shifting your train of thought, of making you laugh and smile until your cheeks hurt. He’d always been good at it, and you were ready to forever curse yourself for being so scared that you deprived the both of you of this for four years.

“I…really do love you. So much, it’s kind of concerning,”

“And I’ve missed the hell out of you these past few nights,” Johnny turned to Franklin quickly, whispering a quick ‘sorry’ for his swearing as he dropped a kiss to his little forehead, before one of his hands cupped your cheek. You leaned into the feeling as if it was second nature already. “I finally come home and my girl locks herself away in the lab with my brother-in-law? Sleeps there, too, to the point where I have to carry her to the couch every night. You’re killing me, baby, my entire room smells like you but you aren’t in it!”

“Well, someone has to try and keep Reed in line while he’s trying to decipher the composition of Galactus and find a way to stop him from devouring the world…” 

You hated talking about it. Knowing he was out there somewhere in the universe, slowly moving his ship toward Earth on his conquest to destroy the world you knew. To take the innocent child in your arms away.

“Hey, we’re all helping,” Johnny cut in, fingers squeezing at your jawline just slightly as you brought your attention back to him. “I’m trying to find him some kind of a crank-shaft thing to solve the problem.”

“A lever, Johnny,” laughter bubbled out of your as you shook your head at him. “The law of levers. We talked about this.”

“Yeah, law of levers. From that Achilles guy-”

“It’s Archimedes-”

“It started with an A, I was close enough. Point is, we’ll find a way to solve the problem, just like we always do,” your chin was pinched between Johnny’s thumb and forefinger as he dipped his head closer to yours, breath fanning out over your lips. “Doesn’t mean you can hide from me for days, baby. You’re like a drug, and I’m having some serious withdrawals.”

When he stole a kiss from you then, silencing the laughter that once again tumbled from your lips, you didn’t hesitate to melt into him. The warmth of his hand as it cradled your jawline, thumb rubbing the most gentle circles against your cheek. The soft touch of his lips as they slanted over yours, pressing into you with every ounce of love he could convey in a single touch.

It was enough to hate yourself for locking yourself away for three days, trying to solve a problem larger than life itself. Because if the world was going to end, you wanted to know every spare moment you had was spent in his arms, with his kiss searing itself into your skin.

The kiss was over much sooner than you ever would’ve liked it to be, Johnny’s lips practically torn from yours. Your eyes popped open just in time to see Johnny now just two feet away, pressed against the windows of the living room, that familiar rainbow shimmer hovering in the air in front of him to hold him in place.

When little baby Franklin clapped his hands, you had to cover your mouth with the one hand not holding him to conceal your laughter.

“Absolutely not,” Sue’s voice cut in, now just a few feet away from you both. Her hand was stretched toward her brother, still holding him in place against the window, with her eyes narrowed. “No funny business in front of my son, Johnny.”

“Sue, he was literally made with funny business,” the unimpressed look that you and Sue both shot at him was practically identical. “What is life without funny business? Speaking of–Reed can stretch…everything, can’t he? When you guys were making Franklin, did he-”

“Jonathan, I advise you don’t finish your sentence,”

You laughed at the antics of the Storm siblings, joining Sue at her side to hand her back her wiggling son. It was then that she finally dropped her hand, letting Johnny off of the window to take Franklin into her arms again. The way his little smile seemed to brighten just from being in his mother’s arms was unmistakable.

“Thanks for finally figuring out whatever is going on between you two,” Sue nodded her head toward Johnny with a soft smile to you. “I’ve been rooting for it. Plus, maybe you’ll be able to actually keep him in line.”

“Come on, now, she always has!” Johnny called after his sister, who was stalking back across the room to grab the food she’d made for Reed, no doubt to take it down to him in the lab. The warmth of Johnny’s hand rested against your lower back as he found his way to your side once more.

Left alone in the living room with just the man behind you now, you didn’t hesitate to lean back into his touch. You could feel the rumble in his chest from his laughter, a gentle kiss placed to the side of your head,before suddenly you were swept straight off your feet.

A yelp escaped your throat as Johnny threw you over his shoulder like it was nothing. Arms locked around your thighs to hold you in place, Johnny didn’t say a word and simply stalked across the room toward the stairs

“Johnny!” you exclaimed, bracing yourself against his back and shoulders so that you didn’t slip out of his hold. “I should get back to Reed, you can’t just kidnap me!”

“Uh, I can, and I did,” was his simple response as he began the trek up the staircase toward the bedrooms. “He’s gotten enough of your time, it’s my turn with the pretty assistant.”

You couldn’t argue with him. Truthfully, you didn’t want to argue with him. You missed him, and if this was the end of the world, right here in his arms was exactly where you wanted to be. It’s where you needed to be.

It was impossible to decipher the look on Ben’s face when you both passed him in the hallway, fresh out of the bathroom. Johnny gave him a simple greeting, walking past him as if there was nothing unusual about the sight before him. When you were face to face with him, you could only offer the rocky man a sheepish smile.

Ben only shook his head, mumbling something about “keeping the noise down”, before he disappeared to his own bedroom.

Johnny dropped you at the foot of his bed, grinning down at you as your back jumped against the mattress below you. With one hand on his hip in a mocking stance of authority,  he pointed down at you.

“You make yourself comfortable. You basically made my bedroom yours while I was gone, so just pretend it is yours anyways,” you could only roll your eyes fondly in response. “I’m about to take the world’s quickest shower, and if your adorable ass isn’t in this room when I get back I’m going to burn Reed’s lab to the ground.”

You didn’t have the heart to argue that burning Reed’s lab was impossible, given that Reed had custom designed everything in this building to be fireproof in the last 4 years. Instead, you only gave him a mock salute, one that seemed to satisfy him, before he practically ran back into the hallway with a slam of the bathroom door.

The only thing saving your mind from wandering was the linens beneath your skin, still teeming with the unmistakable scent of Johnny that lingered everywhere in the room.

With your blouse and pants discarded into a pile on the opposite end of the room, you didn’t hesitate to slip into one of Johnny’s grey sweaters that he typically wore in the winter. It hung loosely around your shoulders, the one side almost slipping off your arm, and hung low enough to just barely cover your panties-clad bottom half.

One glance around the room was enough to calm your mind for a moment, too. You’d stayed there for the month without him because it was the only place in the entire building where you could just be surrounded by him. The shelving by his closet, decorated with memorabilia and the framed photo of him taken before their first launch into space. The bookshelf of records, with The Wonder of You perched right on top. The record itself had been played almost on a loop some days when you missed him the most, one phrase of his stuck on an endless repeat in your head.

I don’t ever think I’ll get over the miracle that is you…loving me.

There was also the obnoxious painting of him on the wall opposite of the bed. A pretentious gesture to have a painting of your own face hung on your bedroom wall, but such a Johnny move that deep down inside you found it endearing.

The moon hung high in the sky over New York as you stepped up to the window of the darkened room, letting its light bathe over you. It hung just behind the Excelsior, highlighting the damage across the ship in its light. A frown crawled its way to your lips at the sight: the siding torn, the windows cracked, the hull misshapen from the pull of lightspeed space travel. A reminder that they barely escaped, that they barely came back to you.

Your eyes flickered down to the streets, so far below. Even from the high vantage point in the building, you could still make out the people below. The mobs that had begun to form since they had returned, demanding Sue and Reed give up their son in exchange for the planet. The talk shows that called them selfish, the radio hosts who spoke as if they knew what had happened in space, the impossible position your family had been put in. The people who would never understand your family, who would never understand the lives they’ve sacrificed in order to protect them these last four years. What they’ve given up to become the world’s protectors.

These people didn’t know shit, and they’d been pissing you off since they’d begun to form outside on the streets below.

It was the papers hanging on the far window that caught your eye, dragging it away from the ship and the people below. You took a step over to stand before them, flicking on the lamp sitting just beside the window to get a better view.

Johnny’s handwriting had never been the neatest, but you knew it well. The alphabet was strewn across multiple pages, lines connecting certain letters to a phrase written in a language you had never seen before. Taking a glance around all of the pages, that alien language seemed common among every page, as if Johnny had been building new words the more he connected that one phrase to certain letters.

As if a lightbulb went off in your head, you turned on your heel quickly to step up to the record player behind you. Thankfully, under a few other records, lied the one you had handed Johnny that day in the lab a month ago. The second you dropped the needle down onto it, as it slid into the grooves etched into the record, that same alien language sounded through the room: the same thing written across the papers in front of you.

Her language. The Herald’s. Johnny had said something about it on some trip into the lab the day before, before Reed had gathered everyone to explain the little information the two of you were able to gather from Herbie’s samples from their trip to converse with Galactus. She’d said something to him…now, he was reconstructing her entire language from a single phrase.

“You genius, genius boy,” you couldn’t help but mutter to yourself, overwhelming love and pride blooming deep within your chest, before you turned on your heel to stalk back into the hallway.

You didn’t bother knocking on the bathroom door. Shutting it quietly behind you, a soft smile overtook your face at the sound of Johnny humming to himself from behind the curtain.

Whatever was driving you right now, you didn’t even know. Whether it was seeing the lengths that he’d go to in order to protect the people he loved, like reconstructing an entire alien language, or the threat of the world ending in a matter of days, all you wanted was him in the end of it all.

Sweater and panties discarded into a heap with Johnny’s own clothing by the sink, your fingers curled around the edge of the bathroom curtain, pulling it back just slightly. The humming ceased as Johnny looked up, startled for just a moment before his gaze landed on you. His gaze trailed down the length of your body, and you could almost see his pupils dilate in real time. That handsome, heartbreaking smile of his returned as he held out a soapy hand in your direction. You took it without hesitation.

The water was hot, almost on the verge of scalding since Johnny didn’t understand the concept of what was truly hot or not anymore. The water temperature didn’t matter to you, not in the slightest. Johnny only watched quietly as you curled yourself around his bare body, hands sliding up into his wet strands of hair. His own hands curled around your waist, tugging you under the stream of water with him.

“This is a bit of a surprise appearance,” his voice was quiet in the intimate moment under the pouring water from the shower head. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your gorgeous company?”

“Just wanted to be with you,” was all you could manage to say. You were too wrapped up in those blue eyes, the gaze that was entirely fixed on you since the moment you appeared around the curtain. “And…wanted to tell you that you’re a genius. I saw the papers on your window.”

The smile on his face immediately turned sheepish. It always had over the years whenever you complimented him like that. Johnny Storm was used to being complimented on the way he looked, but when it came to someone complimenting him on that genius brain of his, he never did quite know how to take it.

“I-It’s probably stupid and won’t help-”

You surged forward, slotting your lips against his in a passionate kiss. Your fingers tugged just so on the strands of his wet hair threaded between them. His chest rumbled with a groan at the feeling, his grip against your hips tightening as he pulled you until every inch of your bare skin was pressed to his. You didn’t miss the twitch of him pressed against your abdomen.

“It’s not stupid,” your words were mumbled against his lips, stealing another breathtaking kiss from him before you fully pulled away to look up at him. If his eyes were dilated before, then you hadn’t seen them after a kiss.

Johnny stood silently for a second, mouth dropped open just slightly in shock.

“Did…did you just kiss me to shut me up? I thought that was my thing?”

“No, you keep kissing me when I’m mad at you. I kissed you to stop whatever self-deprecating thing you were about to say,” one of your hands slid back down the side of his neck, over his collarbone, and came to rest right over his heart. The thump against his chest was comforting to hear, even as it beat slightly faster than it ever would normally. “It’s a genius idea. To know what it is she might be saying, especially when her language is all over those deep space transmissions we’ve been receiving, you could be well on your way to figuring out the exact piece we didn’t even know we needed to figure out a solution.”

That smile, full of wonder, quickly shifted up into a smirk for just a moment. Your eyes were already prepared to roll, even though your smile was still bright across your lips.

“So, what you’re saying is…I found the lever?”

You laughed: lighthearted, free, full of the most joy you had felt in weeks. You swore you could feel Johnny’s heart skip a beat under your hand.

“Yes, Johnny. I think you may have just found us a lever of some sorts,”

His laughter mixed with your own as he pulled you back into him, peppering a thousand kisses to every inch of skin in his reach. Your cheek, to your neck, right over your pulse point, and down to your collarbones and across your bare shoulders. The water from the showerhead still beat down on your both as you curled your hand further into his hair, nails trailing over his scalp.

“You're one of the only people who has ever believed in me like that,” his words were soft as they were mumbled into your shoulder, almost drowned out by the water. “Sue always has, but not the way you believe in me. You have since the day you walked in, and always made sure to remind me around every corner.”

With a little tug to his blonde hair, you brought Johnny’s face back to yours. He didn’t seem sad, per say, but there was the slightest hint of melancholy throughout those handsome features you adored so much. Like he was thinking back on all the times he was belittled by someone, the times when the press reduced him to nothing but a playboy.

“Because you deserve to hear how brilliant you are. You don’t have the absurd amount of degrees that Reed has, but you are one of the brightest people that I’ve ever met,” the tip of your nose just barely brushed against his as you leaned in, beads of water trailing down the side of your face and dripping from your chin. “It also didn’t help that I was quite taken with you from the get go.”

“You did a semi-decent job of hiding it for four years,”

“Did I, though?”

“Yeah, or else I would’ve fucked you years ago,”

“Well-”

Any retort that could’ve possibly fell from your lips was swallowed by Johnny’s heated kiss.

As long as he always kissed you like this, you’d happily let him shut you up mid sentence forever.

Johnny’s hands were greedy, trailing over every inch of your skin that they could. His tongue dipped just past your lips, mingling with yours as his hands made their way up your sides. Even in the heat of the shower, those heated hands of his still left goosebumps along your skin as they traveled up.

It didn’t take long for one hand to cup your breast fully. His thumb flicked over your already hardened nipple as his fingers squeezed into the plump flesh around it. The moan that cascaded from your lips was swallowed by his own groan of pleasure, and hopefully drowned out by the water itself. His lips found your jawline, nipping at your skin before they trailed a heavenly heat down your neck. His teeth sunk in gently, but firmly, leaving a mark right where the last had just finally fully healed over.

“Missed this. Missed you,” he practically groaned the words into your neck. Johnny’s free hand quickly found its way lower, taking hold of the back of your thigh in order to hike it up around his waist, giving himself the perfect opportunity to ground himself up and into your core. Already soaked, already desperate for him, your head fell back with a moan, thankful for his hold on you keeping you upright in the midst of the water beating down on you both. “Thought about you every day up there, just you. Holding you, kissing you, telling you how much I love you.”

God, you loved this man. More than anything. You weren’t sure words could accurately explain it anymore, so instead you chose the Johnny route: show him.

Dropping your leg from his hold, you were just barely able to find the leverage to spin the two of you out from under the showerhead. The cold never hit your skin, too warmed up from the heat that radiated from Johnny himself. With a gentle push, his back met with the shower wall.

His wide blue eyes never left you as you slowly sank to your knees between his legs. You didn’t miss the twitch in his cock either the second you were level with it.

“Baby, what are you doing?”

“What you did to me before you left: showing you how much I love you,” one palm splayed across his thigh for leverage, your free hand came up to hold his length. A shudder visibly ran through his body the second your skin touched the sensitive skin of his pulsing cock, your gaze locked onto his. “You told me to save this for when you came back. A “saving the world” gift, I think is how you described it?”

His adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, laughing lightly to himself.

“Yeah, but Galactus kind of told us to fuck off. Also, he kind of induced Sue into labor and tried to steal my nephew, so I’m not sure I’ve really earned this-”

Johnny cut his own words off the second you gave a single squeeze to the length still resting in your hand. Leaning in, you rested your cheek directly against it, lips so tantalizingly close, eyes still innocently trained up on him, even if every thought in your head was far from innocent anymore.

“Do you want me to get off my knees, or do you want the blowjob, Jonathan?”

He huffed out another laugh. His one hand came to cup your cheek for just a moment, fingers pressing firmly into your skin.

“Baby, if I ever say no to you on your knees, I want you to douse me with a fire extinguisher"

You buried your laughter in the kiss you placed right along his v-line. The tufts of blonde hair that trailed down the pronounced lines tickled at your skin as you lavished kiss after kiss into his skin, desperate to show him your love just like he had to you that night.

The hand that was on your cheek left, finding its place instead against the back of your head as he let out a sharp intake of breath as your lips glided over every inch of his skin along his lower abdomen. Johnny fingers didn’t curl into your hair, didn’t tug, his hand simply sat there and caressed you. Still holding you as if you were the most precious thing in the world to him. It lied in wait for you to give him the okay.

Johnny’s moans mixed with the beating of the water against the floor of the shower, half of your body still positioned under the stream of water. That cock, hot with need and throbbing in your hand, twitched the second you gave him a single tug along his entire length. You swiped your thumb gently–but firmly–over the tip, spreading the beads of precum that had collected there across the sensitive, flushed deep pink head.

“I-I don’t remember teasing you like this,” he stuttered over his words, something Johnny didn’t do often. It brought a smirk to your lips in seconds.

“You didn’t,” was your simple answer. Your gaze met his through hooded eyelids, thumb still rubbing just perfectly against the head of his cock, allowing you the perfect sight of his mouth dropping open in another low moan. “Consider this retribution for disappearing into space for a month.”

“I thought we talked about that-”

Johnny's own words were cut off by his own loud, uncontrolled moan the second your tongue darted out to lick a stripe straight up the head of his cock. Sweet, smooth, and addicting the second you had a single taste.

Whatever quip dared to fall from Johnny’s lips ended the second your lips closed around the tip, his cock laid flat against your tongue as you took as much as you could in a single go. It wasn’t enough–it would never be enough–you wanted more. You needed more.

“Fucking hell, baby,” he rasps out, breath hitching the second your tongue reaches further down his length, swiping along every inch of him you can take into your mouth. His hand still lies on the back of your head, still hesitating there, still hovering. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

You want to argue back, about how that’s the exact opposite of what you wanted. What you wanted was him alive, for a very long time, so you could spend the rest of your life showering him in praise and love.

Saying any of that would mean removing him from your mouth, though, and you were already too lost in a sea of pleasure to let go. Not until he was bursting with pleasure at the seams, until you’d shown him how much you loved him.  How much you adored him.

Johnny was big, you’d known it the moment he’d entered you and filled you in a way that surely ruined you for anyone else on this earth. In the entire galaxy. You’d never be able to take every inch of him,  as much as you wanted to. Even though you wanted to devour him whole, to have him writhing in ecstasy in the palms of your hands.

Instead, you let your hand work over the rest of his length–twisting, caressing every part that you couldn’t sloppily take within the warmth of your mouth. Your tongue salved over every stretch of skin it could reach, gliding down the prominent vein throbbing along the side of his length as your head bobbed back and forth along his shaft.

“Baby–Jesus fucking Christ–I think you’re actually trying to kill me,” he groaned out, words lost in the sound of rushing water and the sound of your head bobbing back and forth.

His fingers curled again, before unfurling, still not crossing that line. The hand you were using for leverage against his thigh came up to grasp his hand in your own, forcing his fingers to curl into the soaking wet strands of your hair without ever removing yourself from his twitching, aching shaft.

For just a moment, you stopped, the groan he let out indicating just how badly he didn’t want you to. Johnny hips canted forward just slightly, as if he was still restraining himself.

Your eyes glanced up at him, his cock still enveloped in the warmth of your mouth and resting against your flattened tongue. You didn’t need to have a mirror to know how much of a mess you were in the moment–remnants of makeup strewn across your cheeks from the water and steam, skin flushed red from the heat, spit dribbling out of your mouth and down your chin.

Johnny was no better. He was unraveling, and it was clear in his eyes. They were blown wide, hiding any semblance of the blue you loved so much. His mouth hung open in bliss, chest heaving with pants. His fingers flexed into your hair just slightly.

You forced him to grip them tighter, and he finally seemed to get the hint–you trusted him completely. There was no one else you’d rather be at the mercy of.

His fingers curled, tugging on the strands. For a moment it stung, but that pain soon gave way to pleasure. The moan that fell from your lips vibrated around his shaft, causing his fingers to flex once more against your scalp, dragging you even closer, forcing himself just slightly deeper within your mouth and profanities to fall from his lips like a song.

“Fuck–shit–fuck baby,” Johnny threw his head back against the tile of the shower, hand against your head guiding you back and forth, keeping the rhythm you had already set the pace for. “If this is what I get for not saving the world, I kind of want to find out what happens when I do.”

You wanted to roll your eyes at his antics. Instead, you pressed yourself forward further, inviting him deeper into your mouth until he filled every crevice of you that existed. That was enough to shut him up for the moment, as his moans grew louder.

Letting go of control, you let him guide the pace. Everything about it was sloppy–obscene–the way your head bobbed back and forth along his shaft, slick with your spit. Your lips were swollen, puckered around him as you sucked in your cheeks just a tad, feeling the twitch of his cock within your mouth once again at your sudden change in pressure.

“Sweetheart–oh my god–I’m not going to last like this,”

It only spurred you on. Taking back just a bit of the control from the hand gripping your hair, you bobbed your head up and down along his length as quickly as you could.

The furthest parts of him were still enveloped in your hands, still being twisted and tugged and now slick with your spit as well. You lost yourself in the pleasure, tongue gliding up and down every ridge and vein of his throbbing cock. Your chest heaved with a gag, the head of his cock reaching as far back as your body could possibly allow him to. All it did was spur you on, another moan falling from your lips, gargled by the sound you made as you dragged yourself back and forth across him.

Another moan fell from Johnny’s lips–your name. It was sinful, the way your name sounded on his lips in this moment of pleasure. The coil of heat within you that had been winding itself up since you’d dropped to your knees tightened, and you knew without ever touching yourself that you were completely soaked, aching for this man you loved more than anything.

“Fuck–baby–I can’t. I can’t, I’m going–I’m going to-”

Pushing yourself to your absolute limit, you took him as far back as you could, forcing back that gag that your body tried to heave from you. Hands taking hold of his thighs, nails digging into his skin, both of his hands found your hair in an instant as the downright delicious moan was practically choked out of him. His cock twitched, his hands gripping to your hair as tightly as possible, before he finally spilled every drop held within him into your awaiting mouth.

Slightly saltier than the precum you had licked straight off of him, but still with a hint of sweetness to it. Still just as addicting to you–the proof of how good you could make him feel, of how good you had made him feel. And, eagerly, you swallowed every drop that he gave you.

Johnny’s hands within your hair tugged you back gently, letting his cock slide back down your tongue before it fell past your lips with a slight pop. Your body heaved, taking in a deep breath of air once again, trying to catch your breath. Johnny heaved above you, too, the sound of your heavy breathing mixing with the shower, the temperature of the water having dropped slightly now with how long you’d been under the running water.

“Come here,”

In contrast to everything else he’d said in the heat of the moment–so raspy, so riddled with pleasure and desire and lust–his words were soft. That coil of heat in you was still wound tight, but that familiar sound of his softened voice had your heart skipping a beat. Something he could so easily do.

His hands grasped yours as Johnny tugged you slowly back up to your feet. Your knees buckled just slightly on the way up, but Johnny’s arm was quick to wrap around your waist, molding you to him to hold you upright.

“Was that good?” your question left your lips quietly, his lips pressing a series of kisses to your temple.

“Better than every dream I’ve ever had about it,” was Johnny's quick response. Hand cradling your cheek, his thumb drawing over the outline of your lips as soft laughter bubbled up from you at his comment. “God, I love you so much.”

Both of your lips found one another, searching blindly with eyes already closed as the constant stream of water beat down over you both. Johnny’s teeth dragged over your bottom lip, taking the skin of your lip between his teeth in a quick bite, his kiss there to soothe the sting before you could utter a single groan.

Johnny’s lips never left yours as he spun you, pressing your back up against the cool shower wall this time where he’d just been. A shiver ran straight up your spine from the coolness of the tiles against your skin, before those heated hands trailed up and down your sides. Around your hips, to your lower back, filling you with warmth  as his lips greedily moved against yours still slick with your own spit.

The heat that spread through your body was unbearable. It was driven by lust, by love, by the pure need to feel him in every sense of the world. To have Johnny Storm as close to you as humanly possible. You hike one leg up around his hip, ankle pressing into his lower back, as you ground yourself into him. 

An almost primal growl seemed to emit from somewhere within Johnny at the sound, a warning as his hands flexed against your hips to lock you in place against the tile wall. His mouth found your jawline, nipping just barely at your skin.

“You’re going to have to give me a minute to recover here, baby. Think you sucked my soul straight out of me,” your chest rumbled with another round of laughter as he nipped at the skin right beneath your jawline again. You could feel his smile against your skin. “You did! If you don’t give me a minute, I won’t be able to ravish you the way I want to.”

A retort died on your lips as his own moved down, laying kisses against your neck. Soft, gentle, filled with love and passion in every single press of his lips to your skin. You let your hand curl into his wet hair, to glide through the strands and let you nails scratch against his scalp, immersing yourself in the feeling of simply being held by Johnny Storm. Being loved by Johnny Storm.

Then, it happened again: he hummed. You heard it, you felt it right against your neck, and it was impossible not to let tears prick your eyes as you recognized the song once again. That same song–your song.

I guess I'll never know the reason why you love me as you do. That's the wonder, the wonder of you.

“Did I ever tell you?” Johnny's voice cut through his own humming, head still buried into the crook of your neck. “Did I tell you when I knew I was in love with you?”

You willed the tears away as they threatened to fall, overwhelmed by the sheer amount of love you felt in your heart. All you could manage was a shake of your head, answered with another kiss to the column of your throat.

“I thought you were the prettiest thing in the world those first few months you worked for Reed. Turned on the charm, pulled out every trick in the book, and none of it worked,” another open-mouthed kiss was pressed to your neck. “Then, I came into the lab one day. I had an idea for the suits before we went up that first time. Drew up some shitty looking plans for my idea, too, was just some extra strapping around the legs to give us more mobility. I thought the current ones wouldn’t let us move our legs much. Reed dismissed me, telling me nothing else needed added to the suits. Then, I came back down for a fitting one day, just to see those exact straps I designed added to each of the suits, and none other than you shuffling your papers at your workstation to cover up my designs that I’d left down there.”

You remembered it well, as if it had happened yesterday. The look of dejection on Johnny’s face was clear as day as Reed dismissed him, already happy with the design of the suits as is. That look was burned into your brain as you stayed the night that night in the lab, looking over every aspect of Johnny’s terribly drawn plans to execute them perfectly on the suits.

Reed had come down that following morning and seen the changes. He’d said nothing at first, just examined them, before he gave a little nod of his head and approved of your changes. You’d been quick to tell him they were Johnny’s changes, the ones he had dismissed.

That was the same day you were sure Reed’s opinion on you changed as well, that maybe he didn’t resent the idea of having an assistant anymore. Not when you went out of your way to do something like that for his family.

“That’s when I knew,” Johnny continued, lips following his same trail back up to your jawline before ghosting over your cheek. Still cradling you as if you were the most precious treasure the earth had ever seen. “I took one look at you, hiding those papers, and my heart skipped a beat. And suddenly I was just thinking to myself…shit, I’m about to fall in love with this girl.”

You took a deep breath, letting his words settle within you, before you spoke.

“It started a long time ago, but…I admitted it after the funeral,” his eyes came back to yours as he pulled his head back to look down on you now. You let your hand stray from his hair, fingertips ghosting over every feature on his face–from the curve of his brow to the outline of his lips, memorizing every single piece of him. You weren’t sure if it was a tear that fell down your cheek, or another droplet of water. “I admitted it to myself, and then I locked it away. It terrified me.”

“It terrified you to love me?”

“Yes, because I knew you could break me,” a short laugh left your lips, accenting your words. “The names the media always called you weren’t who you were, but you did always have a reputation. I knew that. Johnny loves space, Johnny loves women…how could Johnny ever love me? If you didn’t, I knew it would break me, shatter me like I was a fragile pane of glass.”

Those blue eyes trailed down to your lips, his thumb tracing your lips, fingers holding your chin within their grasp.

“What changed?”

“The end of the world. It made me realize…I’d let you break my heart if it meant I got to love you, even if it was only for a moment,”

Johnny’s lips found yours without another word, slotting them right where they belonged. Where you never wanted them to leave.

His hand curled around your neck, the other your hip to mold your body to the tiled wall, his own fitting perfectly into the space against yours. One leg still hiked over his hip, his length pressed into your core with a single roll of his hips–hard, hot, and throbbing once more.

Your mouth opened on instinct, inviting him in. Johnny took the invitation in seconds, letting his tongue delve in to mix with yours, to taste every inch of you available. The moan that tumbled from your lips swallowed by his own, drowned out by his own deep groan.

The hand cradling your neck trailed down your body: from your neck, to your chest, along your hardened nipple, and down your abdomen until it curled around your thigh. The heat trail left along your skin bloomed, goosebumps traveling up and down your arms. His hand splayed across your thigh, fingers finding purchase in your skin as he hiked your leg around his waist, allowing your ankles to cross behind his back. Suspended, pressed against every inch of him, at his mercy.

“I won’t break it. I’d never break it,” his words were moaned against your lips, his cock dragging through your soaked folds with every drag of his hips against yours. You desperately tried to conceal the mewls that fell from your lips with every delicious drag of him against you, every catch of his head against your opening. “Not sure if I made this clear yet, but you’re it for me, sweetheart.”

“That’s a bold statement to make,” you whispered, breath fanning out over his lips as your eyes locked with his.

Johnny smirked, eyes never leaving yours, as the head of his cock caught along your opening with another roll of his hips.

“I know, you make me do some crazy things. There’s not a thing I wouldn’t do for you,”

Your brain couldn’t even reflect, to think back on that night in the kitchen weeks ago when he’d said those words to you the first time, before he sunk into you with one single push of his hips.

There was no adjustment needed. No sting. No need to prepare. Your body welcomed every inch of him with a single stroke, like your walls were already carved for him and him alone.  Cried left your lips in seconds, hands curling into his hair once again for something to hold onto as you messily slammed your lips back to his, melting into the feel of him as his hands dug marks into the skin of your hips.

“Please–please, please please,” were the only words you were able to cry out, babbling them over and over as you clawed at him, trying to bring him even closer, as if it was possible. It was your teeth that then took his bottom lip between them, biting down just hard enough to bring a groan from his mouth. “Please, Johnny, please, please-”

He pulled his hips back without warning, just the tip barely lodged within your walls, before he drove back in. Hilt buried as deep as your body would allow, his hips pressed to yours, grounding up against you as you threw your head back against the tiled wall. Johnny’s heated lips trailed back down to your neck, a place you were sure he’d live if he could.

“I got you, baby,” he muttered through gritted teeth, another mark placed upon your neck by his mouth. His hips snapped back again, driving along the heat of your walls, star forming in the corners of your vision once more. “Fuck, baby, I got you.”

Your hands never left his hair, curled around the dampened strands. Tugging in time with every gasp of pleasure that tumbled from your lips, with every cry of his name like a prayer into the streaming water over your bodies.

His hips drove into you at a maddening pace. Pulling himself almost the entire way back before driving to the deepest depths that he could reach. A chorus of profanities tumbled from his lips into your neck, littering your skin with calls of pure pleasure and ecstasy. Johnny hands heated themselves just a hint, enough to draw another gasp from your lips, as they curled around each cheek of your ass, gripping the flesh beneath his palms like it was the only thing keeping him going. His handprints surely seared into your skin, marking every piece of you as his.

Body pressed back against the tiles so tightly they were sure to leave indents along your skin, his rhythm never faltered. His throbbing cock, twitching with need, dragged along the warmth of your walls with every bruising thrust into you. The ache was already prevalent in your bones, in your hips, from the snapping of his body into yours without care. You didn’t care, though, not when the pain felt this good.

“Fucking perfect,” his lips found yours again, cutting himself off to lay another open-mouthed, heated kiss to your lips. It was sloppy, filled with the shared moans that dripped from both of your lips, a string of saliva hanging between your mouths when he pulled back by just a hair. “Made for–fuck–made for me, baby. Made just for me.”

“A-All yours. Only yours. Just for you,” you repeated his words, crying out between them, choking on them through mewls of pleasure. 

Locking your ankles tighter, dragging him just a tad closer to your body, Johnny’s thrusts changed. Shorter, deeper, but still driving in just as quickly, just as frantically as before. The choked gasps that escaped your throat only increased in volume, tears pooling at the corners of your eyes as you shut them. Head thrown back in ecstasy, you weren’t sure if you were even in the room anymore. Too lost, too deeply buried in your own pleasure to care.

That coil of heat burned deep within you, tightening, threatening to snap at any moment. One of Johnny’s hands made its way back up your body, fingers tweaking at your nipple as you groaned at the sensation into his mouth. A smirk crossed his lips, pressed into yours as he licked his way inside once more, still toying with the sensitive bud rolled between his fingers.

You retaliated, pushing yourself off the wall to drive your hips into his, meeting his thrusts. His fingers dug into the flesh of your ass, lips finding your ear as his teeth tugged down on the earlobe. The profanities that fell from his lips sounded like pure sin, mixed with the huskiness and raspiness of his voice, sending another shot of pure heat straight to your core, soaking you more than you already were.

“I-I’m not going to last,” he stuttered out, hot breath fanning over your ear as he rutted into you, pace still brutal and addicting. “Not when you’re so warm, when you feel this good.”

“I’m n-not going to last either,” you barely got the words out, tugging on his hair as you buried your own head into the crook of his shoulder, crying out as another pang of pleasure shot through you with another drag of his cock against your walls. Another press of his hips to yours.

With the end in sight, creeping up on both of you, Johnny renewed his efforts.

One hand grasped onto your ankles behind him, hiking your legs up higher. The angle of his thrusts shifted, somehow burying him deeper within your walls, hitting a part of you he hadn’t yet touched. A sob of pure pleasure tore through your lips, the sound only growing louder when one of Johnny’s hands snaked its way down your front, thumb rubbing little circles directly to your sensitive clit as your body was thrown into overdrive.

You keened at the feel of him, at every snap of his hips as he drove himself into you. Every sink of his cock, every time it nestled deep within your walls. You met his thrusts back with as much force as you could, throwing your hips off the tiled wall and into his, slamming yourself onto him with every ounce of strength you could muster.

That coil of heat only got tighter, threatening to snap with every throb and twitch of him inside of you. Every little circle that his thumb made around that bundle of nerves, every firm press he gave to it. The squelch of your arousal around the place in which you were joined together was loud, louder than the running water still beating down on you both.

The waves of pleasure were threatening to crest over you, and you knew Johnny was right there with you. His hips were faltering, his rhythm shaky, barely able to maintain himself as he still fucked into your with reckless abandon, chasing his own high.

Fingers curled into his hair still, you tore your head from his neck, surging forward to connect your lips with his. Messy, a clatter of teeth together as he tried to pull at your bottom lip and vice versa.

“Johnny–Johnny, I can’t,” was all you could manage to mumble against his lips through your high pitched squeals, his rhythm faltering and his thrusts growing shorter, but still just as deep. “I can’t, I can’t I’m–I’m going to–I’m so close-”

“Me too, sweetheart,” his own words were clipped, mumbled through his fervent attempt to place a thousand kisses to your lips, digging in his hips as deep as they could go. “Let me feel you. Please–please, let me feel it, baby.”

The crest of your orgasm hit like a shockwave, like a rippling wave of pure pleasure moving through your body.

Every cry that left your lips was his name, just his name falling from your lips like a mantra you wanted to repeat for the rest of your life. Your thighs shook, muscles tightening as every ounce of your own pleasure gushed out of you, practically dripping from you, pooling into a ring around his cock as it still drove frantically into you, chasing his own release.

Your name fell from Johnny’s lips, too, as they pressed to yours. His hips dragged in short, deep thrusts before they still, buried to the hilt inside of you. He twitched within your walls–once, twice–before that familiar warmth pooled within you again, every drop of him collecting deep inside of you.

Quiet filled the bathroom once more. Just the sound of your heavy breathing mixing together, accented by the shower. Water still rained down, your skin surely beginning to prune after all this time, the water having turned cold.

You never dropped your ankles, nor tore your fingers from his hair, or let your forehead stop resting against his. Johnny never moved either, not from within you, not even an inch back to fully look at you. He simply leaned in, stealing a kiss from your lips with all the gentleness in the world, reminding you that you were still the most important thing in the world to him.

“Have I mentioned that I love you?” you managed to speak after a few moments, as the charged energy within the room finally dissipated. He laughed, pressing his lips back into yours.

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t mind hearing it again-”

A loud bang sounded through the bathroom, coming from the doorway into the hallway. Both of you jumped just slightly at the unexpected noise booming through the walls.

“Look, I’m all for young love, and I’m glad you two are done with your back and forth game that’s been going on for years,” Ben Grimm’s voice carried through the walls, muffled only slightly by the door. “But I’m about ready to tell Reed to put saving the world on hold so he can sound proof every wall in this building. Come on, kid, Johnny can’t be that good.”

Ben muttered something else from beyond the door, something about his earlier comment about keeping the noise down and how he meant it. When you and Johnny locked eyes again, though, all either of you could do was laugh.

“Sound proofing the building,” Johnny managed to say within laughs, pressing a featherlight kiss to your cheek as he shot you a cheeky smirk. “Not a bad idea. Gives me plenty of other places I could ruin you.”

“You’re impossible, Johnny Storm,” was all you said, even as you tugged him back into another kiss. A feeling you were certain you would never get enough of.

❤︎

Reed Richards was insane, that was something you knew long before you began working for him. Just how insane, though?

Well, he’d never attempted to teleport a planet to a different point within the universe, that’s for sure.

The idea was crazy, certifiably insane…but just insane enough that it could work. The same teleportation bridge you’d worked on together, able to teleport an egg just across the lab, was about to be applied on the largest scale possible in order to teleport the world to another point in the galaxy. The only idea just crazy enough to maybe save the Earth from the impending doom that was Galactus.

Somehow, in just 36 hours, this crazy group you were lucky enough to call your family was able to mobilize the world, teleportation bridges built in every major city across the entire world. The power consumption was another problem, but one that Reed’s brilliant mind had been able to solve. He’d praised your work, shortening the length of the power outage from bridge usage to just seven seconds. That mind of his made it smaller, sending the world into a worldwide energy curfew, enough to conserve enough power to move the world without a hitch.

In that dark of that night, you had laid with Johnny in the bed you were slowly calling your own. Those usual plaid pajama bottoms, white t-shirt with that bright blue 4 over his chest. One of his sweaters covering your body, which was curled into his arms.

“Galactus had been reported by the team at the Future Foundation to have passed Mars just hours ago,” the radio across the room, sitting on a bookshelf, sounded through the quiet of the room. “The window of time to save the earth is slowly closing in, as we await the hail mary of Dr. Reed Richards and the Fantastic Four.”

“This is going to work, right?” you had whispered out into the quiet of the night the second the radio had stopped, eyes trained across the room on the sliver of Excelsior you could see through the windows across the room. Most of them were covered by sheets upon sheets of papers, scribbled in an alien language by Johnny’s handwriting.

His grip around you had tightened, a kiss pressed to your forehead.

“We’re going to make it work,”

You hoped that Johnny was right. You needed him to be right.

Nerves wracked your entire body, the sound of Reed, Sue and Ben moving through the lab sounding through your ears. You felt far away, though, like you weren’t truly in the room as you looked up at the giant lab screen before you.

A map of the entire world, markers one by one flickering on as bridges went live across the world. And you? Stationed at the main panel, overlooking the four workstations in which the Fantastic Four would ready the world in, preparing to make the final call. Your hands, shaking, tugged on the oversized sweater you’d stolen from Johnny’s closet, fiddling with the ends of it that rested against the top of your black slacks, trying to find a way to ground yourself in the unfamiliar territory.

“Nervous?”

Sue’s voice cut through the haze in your mind, pulling your gaze to her. Her smile was easy, like this wasn’t the most nerve wracking moment of her entire life, as she slid a coffee onto the table in front of you, her other hand holding the portable baby monitor that looked down on sleeping Franklin Richards upstairs. You took it without hesitation, giving her the tiniest grin you could muster as you took a sip.

“Oh, you know, just the end of the world and whatnot,”

“Take a deep breath, kid,” Ben appeared at your other side, sliding a little paper bag your way: one of Maisie’s snickerdoodle cookies sitting wrapped inside of it. He shot you a large grin as he moved past toward his workstation. “I want it on the record that one is from me, not Johnny!”

“He’s right, though,” Sue chimed in, bringing your attention back to her as your laughter subsided at Ben’s little comment. Her hand came up to your upper arm, resting there in comfort, her thumb sliding back and forth over the fabric of the sweater. “This is going to work.”

“I know. It has to,” you said back with a nod. “Doesn’t mean it’s not terrifying. I haven’t felt this terrified since you four went into space the first time.”

Sue laughed, a sound that somehow managed to instantly bring peace to you. Like a sense of comfort that only she was ever able to bring. Her smile was still soft as her hand squeezed your upper arm gently.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever properly thanked you for everything you’ve ever done for us. None of this is possible without you, you’ve been with us every step of the way,” she gestured around the room as she spoke, to the operation you were about to attempt. “Plus, I think I have to thank you for loving Johnny. Lord knows he was pining for you long enough, I’m the one that always had to hear about it.”

You laughed, bringing over your hand to rest over her hand, squeezing it back.

“Johnny, somehow, might be the easiest part of it. But all of this…I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I’d do anything for you guys, you’re my family,” you glanced down at the monitor in her hands, at the sleeping form of Franklin. “I’d do anything to protect him, too. That’s your firstborn, Sue. I…I’d do anything to make sure you never lose him.”

Reed called something out through the lab, something about multiple calls rolling in at once from cities across the globe. Sue turned for just a moment, before she glanced back, squeezing your hand once last time.

“You’re wrong, honey. He’s not my firstborn,” her hand left yours, gently caressing your cheek for a moment, just like a mother would, before her hand slipped away. “I had two kids before I ever had him.”

You wondered, then, how you ever could’ve doubted if these people around you considered you family.

Reed, Sue and Ben took their places at their workstations. Headphones on, microphones to their lips, you listened to their callouts through the room, confirming with multiple cities across the globe.

Copy Lima.

Copy Cape Town.

Copy Sydney.

Copy Tokyo.

With each city copied, you watched every red dot on your map turn green.

The elevator dinged open across the lab, footsteps practically running across the floor before they came to a stop right beside you.

“Guys, I am onto something!” Johnny called out to the room, hands thrown wide in celebration. Reed shot him an unimpressed look from his chair, turning back to the list on the screen before him.

“We’re moving a planet here, Johnny,”

“Yeah, Johnny, it’s 4. Fantastic 4,” Ben emphasized, holding out four fingers in his direction. His gaze shot to you quickly, as he put a fifth thumb up. “5 including you, of course. 6 if we want to count Herbie, and uh, 7 is old enough to be in the mix yet.”

You only shook your head, a smile stretching across your lips for a fleeting moment as Johnny swooped you into his arms. A rushed kiss was placed to your lips before his forehead rested against yours, blue eyes boring into yours.

“I figured it out, baby,”

“The whole thing?” you questioned, understanding exactly what he was talking about.

“Everything I need, completely reconstructed,”

Your smile returned for a moment as you cupped his cheeks, pulling him into another kiss, before planting them on his chest and gently shoving him away.

“Knew you could, genius. Now go get this planet ready,”

With your four favorite people placed before you now, more cities were called into the air: Delhi, Vienna, Rome, Chicago, and countless others.

It was the second every light on the screen before you flashed green that your stomach felt like it had shot into your throat.

Reed glanced back at you, catching your eye, waiting for your signal. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you gave him a nod.

“Earth go for countdown,”

With a single press of a button from Reed, the twenty second countdown began to play on the screen before you.

The hum in the air of electricity was prevalent immediately, along with the slight rumble in the ground as the device just blocks away in Times Square roared to life, along with every other device across the world.

Elbows resting against the table in front of you, your hands covered your mouth, foot tapping incessantly against the ground as you watched the countdown drop second by second: 16, 15, 14, 13, 12.

You spared a glance at Johnny. He was already looking back at you, smile as easy and comforting as he could make it, and he mouthed “it’s okay” to you over and over again.

11, 10, 9, 8, 7-

Maybe that comforting smile would’ve worked if the alarms hadn’t begun to blare, and if the green lights across your map didn’t slowly start to flicker back to red.

“What is that?” Sue called out in worry, lights beginning to flicker red faster and faster. Johnny shot from his chair toward the screen, throwing off his headset in the process.

“What’s happening?”

The quickest that your shaking fingers could, you tapped in a series of keys across the keyboard before you, pulling up the live newsfeeds from around the globe to the main screen of the room.

The Herald. Flying straight through every single bridge across the globe at a speed you couldn’t comprehend. Using whatever power was infused into her to shatter every bridge on impact.

Until every single green light on the map had faded back to red, all except New York.

“She’s coming for the bridge,” Reed called out to the room as everyone stood, staring up at the map displayed before them on the screen.

“No,” Sue cut in, glancing around the room with a look of pure horror. “She’s coming for Franklin.”

You’d never seen Reed Richards panic, not the way he did just then. He’d practically sprinted back to his workstation alongside Sue, just as Ben went back to his. Reed’s finger thrust back in your direction, his gaze turning to you–wide eyed and full of fear–as he shouted.

“Lock the building down!”

There was no hesitation on your part as you input the lockdown code, hand coming down to press the button for activation as Reed, Sue and Ben shouted things across the room at one another.

Johnny’s hand caught your wrist before you could press the button. You turned, catching his eyes as they pleaded with you.

“I have a plan,”

Truly, that’s all you needed to hear. You only nodded, hand not moving an inch.

“Okay,”

“I don’t know if it will work-”

“It will,” you cut him off, surging forward to press a kiss to his lips quickly, before stepping back with a small grin. “I trust you. Go.”

Johnny didn’t hesitate before he was out the windows across the lab, igniting and streaking through the air in moments. The second he was out the window, your hand slammed down on the lockdown button, shuttering every window in the building.

“Wait, where’s Johnny?”

When you spun back around on your heels, all three sets of eyes were trained on you as Ben asked the question. You simply switched the feed on the main screen over to the live feed from Times Square, nodding at the three in front of you.

“He has a plan…he’s got this,”

Moments later, moments that felt like ages, Johnny finally appeared on the screen. Landing directly between the arms of the bridge, on top of the platform, the fire that surrounded him dissipated. With a single flick of the device on his wrist, those same deep space recordings sounded off through every screen littering Times Square, every single recording in her language.

The herald came to a stop, feet in the air above him, the second she heard the recordings.

As if he was fluent, spoken it all of his life, Johnny spoke the language he’d spent days upon days deciphering, piecing together from a single phrase spoken to him. She spoke back, a language no-one else in the room could understand. You couldn’t help it that your nails found their way between your teeth, grinding back and forth against your nails in an attempt to calm the nerves that threatened to jump out of your throat.

“How is he doing this?” Ben called out to the room, glancing around in astonishment, before his gaze settled on you. “He barely had a grasp of the English language.”

“Because he’s a genius,” you simply said, a smile cracking through your anxiety for just a moment. “A genius, genius boy I love so god damn much.”

“23 transmissions, all in your language, traced back to the planet Zenn-La. Your home,” Johnny’s voice broke through on the screen again, speaking in English once more. “They were looking for you so that they could thank you. Once I translated one phrase, I pieced together enough language to understand a part of your history.”

As Johnny spoke, talking through her story to make sure he got it right, something in your heart broke for the woman who was shining in silver on your screen: Shalla-Bal. Just a scientist, desperate to save her own planet and to spare her family, choosing to make the ultimate sacrifice in order to do so.

“Those were messages from the one planet Galactus spared–your planet. These other planets weren’t so lucky. How many do you remember, Shalla-Bal?” the recordings switched over, cries and desperate pleas in alien languages you’d never heard before. “They all begged for mercy. You brought Galactus to all of these planets, and now you’re bringing him to my home. To the woman I love, to my family!”

A scream cut through the recording, her scream, before it cut out. The lab was plunging back into silence, just the faint chatter on the other end of every headset sat across the room at each workstation, every city across the globe trying to piece together what had transpired.

It felt like hours, but it had barely been minutes later, when Johnny finally reappeared in the lab. You’d spun the second you heard him, colliding halfway with him to throw your arms around his shoulders, tugging him in for dear life to hold him. His lips instantly pressed to your temple, hand curling around your waist to hold you to him, as he turned to the others.

“Johnny, that was incredible,” Ben called out as you moved from Johnny’s arms, his hand shooting down to interlace his fingers with yours, tugging you to his side as he shook his head.

“Does it even matter?”

“You saved Franklin,” Sue told him matter-of-factly, leaning back against her workstation with her arms crossed. “Yes, it matters.”

“She told us to leave, to save ourselves. That..maybe we’d live long enough to forgive ourselves for it,” his eyes glanced down to your hands for a moment, before back to Reed. “We aren’t leaving, are we?”

“No,” his response was easy, quick, as he sat on the benches encircling the middle of the lab area. “No, we’re not leaving. We can’t.”

The direct line at every station began to ring, signaling incoming calls from each city across the globe. Reed stalked past all of you, picking up a piece of chalk along his way to his boards. You gave Johnny a small nod, sending him back to his desk as you approached yours, slipping on your own headset and transferring the incoming calls to Reed’s desks to yours.

The frantic voice of a man from Vienna sounded over the headset, desperate to find answers. Your hand ran down your face, trying to will yourself to handle what were sure to be hundreds of calls like this.

“We have multiple calls coming in at once, hold Vienna,” you told the man as easily as you could, holding the line with a single click. Another frantic voice came through on the next picked up call, this time a woman from Rome. “Please, hold for a moment, Rome-”

“We need to bring Galactus here,”

The sudden words from Reed Richards sounded through the room, and silenced everyone in seconds. You turned, headset slipping off your head to look at your mentor, head cocked to the side. There was only one word you could use to describe how he looked in that moment: defeated.

“We need him to come here?” Ben questioned as he and Johnny stepped up along one side of you. “I feel like we just spent a lot of time trying to prevent that from happening?”

“We need to get him away from his ship, and we need to bring him here,” Reed stepped up alongside you, reaching over you to hit a series of keys against your keyboard, pulling the live feed of Times Square back up on the main monitor. “To Times Square, to be exact. Then, instead of moving a planet away from one giant, we move one giant away from a planet.”

He was gone in seconds from your side, stalking back to his chalkboard across the room. Equations were written across the board in seconds, without a second thought, like it was built into Reed’s nature to do so.

You stepped up closer to him, watching him work, and Ben and Johnny hovered behind you.

“If we route every power grid on the Eastern seaboard through our one last bridges, charged back up, we can keep the portal open for…” the equation stretched across the length of the board, before he finally reached his answer, circling it in the white chalk as he dropped it down onto the ledge of the board. “37 seconds.”

“37 seconds?” you questioned, eyes feeling as if they were going to fall out of your head.

“Not a lot of time to throw a space god off a planet,” Johnny cut in as you shook your head.

“It’s not, and it’s insane,” you tacked on, shaking your head at Reed, voice rising in volume. “I follow you blindly into most things, Reed, but this is crazy. I mean, where would you even send him?”

“To the far edges of the universe, he’ll be stranded there without his ship,”

“And how are we supposed to lure him to Times Square?”

Reed grew quiet, a sign you always took as a bad omen. When Reed didn’t know what to say, or was struggling to find the way to say it, it almost never ended well.

“I haven’t figured that out yet-”

“You have,” Sue cut in, drawing the attention of every person in the room over to her. “We have to use the only thing Galactus wants. It’s the only way…we have to use Franklin.”

The room went still at her words, as if every ounce of oxygen was plucked straight from the room. Maybe it had been.

You turned, along with Johnny and Ben, to look at Reed. Hoping he’d argue.

“...yes,”

The scoff that fell from your lips was instant. You couldn’t even describe the emotions that curled within you, the pure anger and rage at the mere idea of using a poor, innocent child as bait for some devourer of worlds. Within a second, you stalked across the room, shoving past Reed on your way to the elevator.

“No, absolutely not,”

“Please, just wait-” Reed’s hand barely caught your upper arm before you ripped it out, turning with tears pooling in your eyes.

“No! I will, and always have, followed you everywhere Reed. I trust your judgement around every corner, because I know you’ll always find a way to fix a problem. Because I look up to you. But if this is what has to be done…I can’t. I can’t do it, I can’t be a part of it. I can’t do that to him, not even if it would save the world,”

No one tried to stop you from leaving the lab, not that you would have listened.

The cool night air couldn’t even calm your nerves, could satiate the anxiety coursing through your veins. It could’ve been minutes, or even hours you weren’t sure anymore, of standing on the balcony overlooking New York from the living room of the Baxter Building. Your hands were white knuckling the railing. Every so often, you attempted a deep breath to try and calm yourself, but nothing seemed to work.

Poor, innocent little Franklin Richards. To be used as bait. Of all the absurd ideas you had entertained from Reed over the years, the thought of having to use his child like that wasn’t something you could fathom. Even if you knew, as well as everyone in that room, that it was the only way.

“Are you accepting company on the balcony, or did you want to brood alone out here?”

You scoffed, casting a glance back at Johnny. He rested so casually against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest as he watched you. You didn’t turn him away, but flicked your head back to the skyline.

“How long have I been out here?”

Johnny slid into the open space beside you, the sleeve of his burnt orange jacket sliding along yours. 

“An hour. Enough time for Reed to talk to Sue, for them to hatch a plan, and for it to all come together,” he bumped his shoulder with yours, bringing your gaze to him. “Galactus’ ship is on pace to reach earth by late afternoon tomorrow. We’re going through with the plan.”

“I figured. It’s the only way,” with a soft groan, you let a hand run down your face, rubbing at the sides of your eyes. “I’m sorry, I freaked out. I shouldn’t have stormed out.”

Johnny’s hands took yours, tugging you into him. You turned without hesitation to face him, palms resting against his chest as he held both of your hands within his.

“Ben and I kind of screamed Reed’s head off for a hot moment afterward, so trust me, no one blamed you. I was seconds away from following you out,”

His head bent forward, leaving the lightest of kisses to your knuckles, eyes never leaving yours the entire time.

“What’s the plan for the city?”

“Sue is going to talk to Harvey Elder–yeah, I know, the nickname Moleman is funny–in the morning. He’s got a bit of a soft spot for her, so she’s pretty sure that he’s going to agree,” Johnny paused for a moment, thinking over his words, before he let out a deep breath. “We’re going to evacuate the city into Subterranea. When the buses come to shuttle everyone in…I want you on one of them.”

Immediately, you shook your head, mouth dropping open to argue.

“Johnny-”

“I can’t lose you,” he cut you off, blue eyes looking earnestly down on you, pleading with you to listen. “It’s bad enough that I’m going to have to worry about Franklin, and my sister, and Reed and Ben the entire time. I can’t worry about you, too, I’ll go out of my mind. Because if the girl that I cherish, that I treasure, that I love the most was in the line of fire too, then I can’t focus on anything else. I need to know you’re somewhere safe, where Galactus can’t hurt you, where he can’t take you from me. I…I need something to come back to. You’ve done your part, let us do ours.”

Every part of you wanted to argue, wanted to fight back. You’d been with them this long, been through every step of this process with them the whole way. You wanted to be with them, to help them, but what could you do?

You’d done your part, and now, you had to trust that they’d all come back to you in the end.

“Okay,” you agreed softly. The relief that flooded his face was instant the second those words had left your lips.

Johnny’s hands curled around your neck, tugging you up into a kiss that stole your breath away. A single tear slipped down your cheek as you felt every emotion that was poured into that kiss. Every ounce of love, every promise he’d made, every firm press of heated lips to yours that promised to engrave the feeling into your soul for the rest of your life.

A goodbye kiss. One in case it was the last you’d ever have.

“No matter what happens tomorrow,” Johnny whispered the words against your lips, cradling you within the palms of his hands, looking down on you as if you were the sun and he was a planet simply stuck in your orbit. “Just remember that I love you.”

You repeated the phrase like a mantra in your head. Every second, every minute, every hour that you were without him.

From the second you and Lynne stepped onto the bus to Subterranea, the last two employees of the Future Foundation to evacuate the city in the final moments of peace that Earth would know, you whispered it to yourself over and over again.

Remember that I love you.

Lynne never let go of your hand, gripping onto it like a lifeline.

That hand became your lifeline, every moment you were trapped in the cold depths of Subterranea, wishing you could just feel the sun for a moment, see the blue of the sky.

Every time the earth above you rattled, thundered, and bits of debris fell to the ground around you and coated you in dust, you knew it was the footsteps of Galactus marching across the city you loved. Toward your family. And every time, you repeated those words once more to yourself.

Remember that I love you.

And finally, after what felt like forever, the message was relayed through the radios from Reed himself: it was over. They’d won.

Every single citizen around you celebrated. They cried, they cheered, but you didn’t. You wouldn’t, not until you saw them with your own eyes. Not until you saw him.

The destruction of the city was evident. Building torn apart, debris littering the roads, various avenues torn to shreds by the sheer size of Galactus.

Citizens lined the streets as they poured back out into the city from Subterranea. You stood with Lynne at the doors of the Baxter Building, welcoming employees who met up with one another, reuniting on the front lawn and the sidewalks, cheering that, somehow, the world was saved.

A smile only crossed your face the second you laid eyes on them again.

Blue and white suits torn, covered in debris, hair a mess, but alive. Walking straight up to the building together, little Franklin cradled in the arms of his mother. Battered, maybe a little broken and bruised, but alive.

Lynne’s laughter rang through the air the second you broke into a sprint. Johnny met you halfway, ignoring the laughter of his own family, as you flew directly into his arms.

Arms wound tight around his neck, his around the backs of your thighs as he lifted you from the ground without a second thought, spinning you through the air. Your laughter rang out, even as tears slid down your cheeks.

Johnny’s hands slide from your thighs, to your hips, to cradling your waist, bringing you back down until your feet finally touched the ground again. He didn’t even give you a chance to speak before he leaned forward, capturing your lips in a kiss.

“There’s so much I have to tell you,” he murmured against your lips, never straying far enough that you weren’t touching. “You probably won’t believe me.”

“You came home from space with superpowers, Jonathan Storm, I think I’ll believe just about anything at this point,” giggles left your lips as you said it, pecking at his lips over and over again, never wanting to stop touching him.

“Good,” he spun your once more, a smile as bright as the sun stretching across his face as you laughed through your tears again. “As long as you always believe me when I tell you I love you.”

Marvel Cinematic Universe

Peter Parker (Tom Holland) Brother from Another Mother (Peter Parker x Platonic!Joaquin Torres, angst, first-meet, fluff)

Sam Wilson Chin up, Cap (Sam Wilson x GN!Reader, fluff, hurt/comfort)

Like father, Like daughter (Dad!Sam Wilson x Mom!Fem!Reader, fluff, slight hurt/comfort)

How Sam reacts to you doing house chores when you are pregnant (Sam Wilson x Pregnant!Fem!Reader, fluff)

Trouble in Paradise (Sam Wilson x Fem!Reader, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst)

Fantastic Introductions (Sam Wilson x Fem!Reader, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst)

Joaquin Torres Brother from Another Mother (Peter Parker x Platonic!Joaquin Torres, angst, first-meet, fluff)

Pretty (Joaquin Torres x GN!Reader, fluff)

Philophobia Series (Joaquin Torres x GN!Stark!Reader, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, ONGOING)

Joaquin reacts to seeing you in a saree for the first time (Joaquin Torres x Desi!Fem!Reader, fluff)

It Was Just Like A Movie | Happily Ever After (Actor!Joaquin Torres x Fem!Actress!Reader, fluff, slight angst, yearning, pining, friends to lovers)

Challengers Series (Joaquin Torres x Fem!Stark!Reader, Reynolds x Fem!Stark!Reader, fluff, angst, yearning, love triangle, ONGOING)

“I don’t know if I wanna be you or him” (Joaquin Torres x Fem!Reader, Fluffy fluff, a tinge of angst)

Bucky Barnes

Snow shovel (Dad!Bucky Barnes x Mom!Fem!Reader, fluff)

He’s a Thunderbolt (Bucky Barnes x Fem!Avenger!Reader, fluff, first meet with the team)

The Moonknight System

Gifts (MK System x GN!Reader, angst, fluff)

Robert ‘Bob’ Reynolds

Willow Series (Bob Reynolds x Fem!Demigod!Reader, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, ONGOING)

Challengers Series (Joaquin Torres x Fem!Stark!Reader, Reynolds x Fem!Stark!Reader, fluff, angst, yearning, love triangle, ONGOING)

Star Wars

Din Djarin "Sleepy time for papa and grogu." (Din Djarin xFem!Reader, fluff, hurt/comfort)

The Experiment (Din Djarin x GN!Reader, fluff)

Poe Dameron

“Are you a goofy guy?” (Poe Dameron x Fem!Reader, fluff, modern!au)

Put Some Respect On His Name (Poe Dameron x Fem!Reader, fluff, angst, jealousy)

The Last Of Us (TV)

Joel Miller

“Happy New Year, Honey.” (Joel Miler x Fem!Reader, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff)

Time in a Bottle Part 2 (Joel Miller x Fem!Wife!Reader, angst, gore, dark)

Tommy Miller (TBA)

Manny Alvarez

Getaway Car Part 2 Part 3 (Manny Alvarez x GN!Reader, angst, fluff)

The Past Will Catch Up Part 2 (Manny Alvarez x GN!Reader, angst, fluff)

HCs/Blurbs/Drabbles/Other

Calling them by something other than their nickname (All x Reader, fluff)

Steve Harrington Fic Recs!

Requests

“You’re everything.” (Bucky Barnes x GN!Reader, angst, fluff, non-sexual intimacy, sad bucky)

Gifts (Moonknight System x Reader, hurt/comfort, fluff)

Yet as shiny as his eyes were, there was always an underlying sense of sadness in them, a quirk of pain and hesitance in his smile, like he’s never smiled heartily before in his entire life, his strong body held a deep tension in the muscles, like he was taking every step carefully, as if there were nails and spikes under his feet that would prick him any time.

But beneath all this, was a man with a heart as tender as a dandelion, a child like wonder flashed in his eyes every time you touched him oh-so-gently, like he’s never been touched like that before. So you made sure that you'd treat him like he was something precious, being there for him as a soft place to land. But still, he preferred to keep somethings to himself.

One day, you were waiting for him at your favourite cafe in Bedford Gardens for your weekly date. He'd finally finished off a 'job' and was back home, arranging a date for you two on the weekend. You'd been waiting for him under the cafe's awning, protecting yourself from the unpredictable London rain, eager eyes scouring the streets for the sight of your grumpy but handsome boyfriend.

5 minutes passed. Then 15. Then 25. And then 30. He didn't turn up. You frowned as you felt the familiar sting of tears, hands shakily pressing on his contact number as you tried to call him, your free hand tugging your coat closer as you shivered from the cold winds, leg tapping against the concrete and teeth biting at your cracked lips when suddenly, the phone was received. You let out a shaky breath.

"Oh my god, Marc, where are you? I've been waiting here for the past 30 minutes-"

"Hello?"

You paused. Was that an accent? You pulled your phone back to frown at the screen. You had dialed the correct number. Then who was this man?

"I'm sorry, who's this?"

"You called me first, lady. I should be askin' you that", the man on the other end scoffed, his British accent thick.

"You- hold on a minute. This is my boyfriend's phone. I don't understand what's happening?", you murmured in confusion, a hand bunching the coat tightly.

The man didn't speak for a beat and then, "Boyfriend? W-what's your name?"

You made a face before reluctantly giving him your name.

"Bollocks. I-I'm sorry, love. I- shit. Um", the man panicked.

"Who is this? And why do you have Marc's phone? You tell me right now or I'm going to report-"

"Whoa, okay! Please, relax. I-uh. I know Marc. He's...he's my brother? Where are you right now?", he scrambled to calm you down, his voice unsure but honest at the same time.

You raised an eyebrow. "Brother? Marc never told me about a brother."

The line was silent before the man stuttered over his words again, "W-Why don't you swing by the address I text you, huh? I swear I know him. I'm not a fraud. I promise, I'll tell you everything", the man sounded way too unsure for you to believe him.

And yet, you stupidly went to the address. If you get kidnapped or killed today, Marc is going to lose his mind. In the three months that you spent with him, you quickly realised that he'd blame himself for every shortcoming, and even tried to distance himself from you to 'protect you' but you'd have none of it. But today if something happened to you, you weren't sure if he'd take kindly to you willingly putting yourself at risk.

On that day, three months into the relationship, you found out that Marc's 'brother' was actually his alter, Steven. Where Marc was mysterious and reserved, Steven was an open book. He was soft, polite and sassy, and he wasted no time to tell you truth as he was tired of hiding and lying, before Marc rudely interrupted the conversation, spiraling at the thought of you pushing him away.

"No! No. I-", he swallowed thickly, his eyes misty with unshed tears, hands hovering over yours as his turmoil was becoming more intense. “You weren’t supposed to see that. I know I lied but-“, he squeezed his eyes shut, as if he was in immense pain. “It’s okay if you wanna leave. I understand”, he managed to choke out.

You simply cradled his face into your hands and pressed a kiss to his forehead, as if you were trying to quieten his thoughts, “I’m not going anywhere, Marc. I got you.”

And from there, he slowly started to open up. He laughed freely, he let Steven take control often, who quickly became your close friend and favourite person in the whole world because he built Legos and geeked out about mythology with you.

Marc even started touching you often, his strong arms would hesitantly, but willingly, wrap around you, his nose pressed into your hair while you made breakfast or cuddled on the couch. It was slow, but it was progress. And each progress put a smile on your face, your heart beating faster everytime he joked with you or let you love on him.

Even Steven had started teasing him, his own affections for you bleeding into his words, as Marc and him waxed poems about you in their shared headspace. Steven was enamored with you, and Marc didn’t even do anything to stop it because he simply chalked it to you being a guardian angel for them. Your gentle touch and even gentler words had created a soft cocoon for them. One where they could be themselves without being afraid of their own demons. Except, there was still one thing that you didn’t know about Marc.

His birthday.

You didn’t ask him at first. Not even 4 months into the relationship, assuming that birthdays were just not important for him or that it had already passed. Hell, you even knew Steven’s birthday—2nd April, the day he was formed. But not Marc’s. And what partner didn’t know their better half’s birthday? So one day, while finishing a puzzle with Steven, you decided to bite the bullet.

“Steven, when is Marc’s birthday?”

Steven bit his lip, his curls flopped onto his forehead as he hunched over a table, focusing on finding the part of the puzzle that the piece fit into. “9th of March- ooh, this one goes here”, he absentmindedly replied, deft hands pressing the puzzle piece with all the care in the world.

You furrowed your brows. The date was way too familiar. Fingers dropping the puzzle piece you had, you quickly took out your phone, opening the calendar app and scrolled back up to March, the 9th day marked in blue. It said: first date <3 and you froze.

Marc’s birthday was on the same day as your first date. He had spent his birthday with you this whole time and you had no idea. The thought was so sudden, that you let out an involuntary gasp, making Steven flinch as he looked at you in concern.

“You alright, love?”, his hands hovered around, debating on whether he should come over and bring you in an embrace.

You looked up in disbelief. “He…he celebrated his birthday with me and he didn’t even tell me”, your voice broke off in a whisper towards the end, eyes looking down at the screen again. It was quiet for a moment, no words escaping from any of your lips before Marc’s low voice rang out in the still room.

“I don’t like to celebrate my birthday.”

Your head snapped up, wide eyes meeting Marc’s dull ones, his eyebrows set into a deep frown again as his hands kept rubbing against the fabric of his jeans on his thighs. He looked way too restless, and that sent a pang of hurt in your chest.

“Oh”, was all you had said, the distance between you two felt like a cliff, his voice far away and distant and his gaze avoiding yours at all costs.

“Mate, don’t be like this. Look at their face”, Steven murmured sadly from the headspace, making Marc clench his hands into fists.

“Not even a small cake? Or a cupcake?”, you offered softly, eyes looking at Marc wirh all the hope in the world. He almost melted into a puddle, then and there.

“Say yes-”

“No", he shot it down quickly, a thumb pressing into the middle of his palm soothingly. "Sorry, babe”, Marc ignored Steven and gave you a tight lipped smile, one that made him look even more uncomfortable.

“No tienes remedio, Marc", Jake chuckled mockingly, causing Marc to jump.

"Oi! Where have you been?!", Steven cursed. He didn’t answer. Jake hadn’t shown up for a week, which is why the boys were shocked to hear him all of a sudden. You didn’t know about him either, because he refused to meet you. For reasons unknown.

You gave Marc a tight lipped smile and nodded in understanding. Of course you'd respect his wishes, but what were you going to do when your anniversary was on the same day as his birthday? And even though he hadn't told you the reason why, you wanted to make him feel special. Because he deserved nothing but the best in the world.

-

March 8th, 2027.

It was finally here. The day you were dreading, and excited for, at the same time. Tomorrow, you’d not only celebrate a year with Marc, but he’d celebrate his birthday as well. His second birthday with you. The one that you weren’t allowed to celebrate.

You’d tried talking to Steven about it. He’d told you clearly that it wasn’t his story to tell and that Marc had told him to ‘zip it’. What Steven had mentioned, that it was very difficult for Marc to even eat a cake, that’s how bad the memories were. So he’d stopped. After he turned 13, he’d never celebrated a single one. Steven did, he got himself vegan cupcakes on April 2nd but he’d also celebrated it alone since he didn’t meet Marc until a few years ago.

Your heart hurt for your boys. They deserved to be celebrated. They deserved to be showered with love and gifts on their special day. The thought was too painful—them, sitting alone on a day where they’re supposed to have the spotlight on them. Marc either withering away on a mission and Steven munching on his cupcakes alone, in his empty loft filled with books and sand rings.

You couldn’t handle it.

So you decided to be as sneaky as you could be, and went to shop for gifts. 2 gifts for the 2 birthdays that you spent with Marc, to make up for the lost time. You’d do the same for Steven in April.

And then you remembered, Marc was a Chicago Bulls fan.

Whenever he’d have some time off, he would watch the matches on the TV and he offhandedly mentioned that he’s never been to a single game in person, because of his job and his less than stellar life. So there you were, planted in front of your laptop on a mission: Secure the tickets to the next Bulls game.

You, surprisingly, were able to snag them. The next game was on the 15th, so you immediately got to booking those plane tickets in advance. Once that was done, you ordered some Bulls merch online, signing it under your office address to make sure the boys didn’t find out about it.

The next thing you did was visit the closest Disney store to buy a BB-8 figurine. He’d never admit it, but you’ve seen him fawn over those Lego sets and the BB-8 figurines every single time. He’d never call himself a nerd, but you knew, Steven did too, that Marc Spector was a big nerd. And he had a particularly soft spot for BB-8- the cute droid from the sequel movies. (Not to forget his distaste for the droid’s owner, Poe Dameron, because he looked way too similar to the boys. Steven loved it.)

With the gifts secured, you packed them up neatly and stashed them into your apartment, making a note to keep the boys away from your home as much as possible, to keep the surprise intact.

You just hoped that Marc would like this.

March 9th, 2027.

It was 11:30 pm. You were restlessly waiting for the clock to strike 12. The gifts were carefully smuggled into the boys' apartment, tucked inside your bag safely while you used all of your acting abilities to be as nonchalant and unassuming as possible.

You and Marc were currently cuddled up together on the couch, watching The Holiday, your suggestion. He was slouch by the arm of the couch, your body sprawled across the soft cushions, head laid on his soft, t-shirt covered pecs, a hand loosely draped across his stomach, his hand drew random shapes on your shoulder. The flat was wrapped in quiet warmth, the smell of a vanilla candle wafting in through the space, Steven happily indulging in the movie from the headspace, Jake was surprisingly non verbal, but Marc could feel him and his vigilance.

It was peaceful, it was gentle, it was yours.

Your eyes kept drifting towards the digital clock on the TV unit, waiting eagerly for the clock to strike 12 so that you could make a new memory with, and for, Marc.

The clock displayed 12 just as Amanda visited Graham's cottage, and your eyes zeroed into the digits before pausing the movie. You sat up, causing Marc to look at you in confusion. "You okay?"

Giving him a tentative smile, you carefully grabbed his hands in yours, Marc's thumb rubbed over the back of your hand as the dent reappeared in between his eyebrows.

"Happy 1 year, Marc", you shyly replied, head tilted to the side to observe his expression.

Marc’s mouth fell open in realisation, eyes momentarily checking the time before his face relaxed, a smile tugged at his lips, making his dimples pop out. Your heart soared at the sight.

“Awww”, Steven cooed. Jake scoffed.

“Happy 1 year, baby”, Marc replied in that low tone of his, hands cupping your face to bring you closer before pressing kisses to your cheeks, the corner of your mouth, and your lips eventually.

You kissed him back gently before pulling away, drawing a slight whine from his mouth. “Give me a moment?”, you giggled against his lips, hands massaging his curls, making him groan in content before he reluctantly let you go, watching your pajama clad form disappear towards the bed with a dopey look on his face.

“Ugh, you are so whipped, Spector”, Jake teased, accent cracking through his husky voice, causing Marc to roll his eyes and Steven to ‘tsk’ in irritation.

Marc straightened up as he saw you walk back, except your hands were full with a medium sized box now, one that was covered neatly with wrapping paper.

“Oh! Gifts!”, Steven said cheerfully while Marc furrowed his brows.

“What’s this, babe?”, he folded a leg by the knee while the other leg was off the couch, his arm resting against the couch’s back rest and eyes following you closely.

You had a nervous look on your face, hands fiddling with the box as you dropped down on the couch facing him, the box now resting between the two of you like a ticking bomb, your throat dry all of a sudden. You didn’t know how he’d react to this and that scared you more than you’d like to admit. All you wanted was to make him happy and not uncomfortable.

“Open it?”, it came out as a question, your voice shaky with hesitance and fragility.

Marc simply looked at you, the back of his fingers brushing over your cheek lovingly before deft hands took off the wrapping paper on the box, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he tried to figure out what was inside.

He finally took the lid off, his face slack with realisation and shock as he processed what was inside in the box—A Chicago Bulls jersey and hat, along with a BB-8 figurine for their desk.

His mouth fell open, hands hovering above the box, unsure of what to do next as he felt intense emotion overcome him.

“Marc, you’ve…you’ve dreamed of owning a jersey for so long..”, Steven whispered in awe.

Marc was trying to blink away the tears by harshly blinking his eyes. He tried to open his mouth and say something, anything to you, but the thick lump lodged against his throat had rendered him speechless. He felt his vision blur, rudely interrupting his admiration for the gift and you, who was still perched in front of him with your hands nervously wringing each other.

This might’ve been the first ever gift that Marc Spector had received from anybody. He had dreamed of getting a Bulls jersey since he saw their game on the TV when he was 8 years old. Now he had a jersey, a hat and one of his favorite characters from pop culture in his hands. He was so overwhelmed with emotions, that he wasn’t sure what to do or how to react.

“Marc?”, you whispered, leaning closer to check on him as your eyebrows scrunched up in worry. He looked up then, his eyes bloodshot and full of tears, hands clutching the lid of the box tightly to ground himself, a stray curl resting on his forehead.

He looked beautiful, like always. But oh so sad, that you felt your heart splinter.

“Y-you don’t like it?”, you asked in a small voice, your vision slowly turning blurry as well. That snapped him out of his daze, eyes darting from the gifts to your face in disbelief.

“W-why?”, he croaked out. As if he couldn’t understand why would someone willingly buy him gifts. What had he done to deserve it? What had he done to deserve you, even?

Your face scrunched up, as if you were offended by the question before you relaxed it, sniffling softly. Your hands raised to cradle his damp face tenderly, like he was something precious, your doe eyes looking at him like he hung the moon and stars. His heart thundered against his chest as you sweetly whispered only 3 words: “Happy birthday, Marc.”

Marc froze.

Steven gasped in the headspace, “Oh my gods.” And Jake looked at you with something unreadable yet tender.

Marc didn’t know what to do. He was torn between sobbing his lungs out and crying himself to sleep, tackling you in a hug or running away until this feeling was gone. Because how was he supposed to react to the way you had so subtly and innocently arranged all this for him, while unknowingly making his birthday a happy memory? So he settled for softly running his hand over the jersey's fabric, soaking in how it felt against his skin, eyes drinking in the colours of the red bull in the center hungrily, tracing the lettering over and over again.

This was the first ever birthday where he was safe, loved for and protected. His first ever birthday where there were no broken glasses or the whacks of leather against skin. His first ever birthday where he wasn’t sitting in front of the cake with tears streaming down his face, the candles melting into the cake as his father half heartedly sang for him while being distracted by his mother’s drunken ramblings, abuses and shouts that caused Marc’s little body to shake with fear.

This time, there was no cake. No party hats. No balloons. Just you, your beautiful soul, and your thoughtful gifts.

He couldn’t hold it in. One sob left his mouth, the other followed closely, his shoulders shaking violently as gasps and cries of pain left his lips, his face wet with tears that pooled into your palms, hands dropping the shirt before settling onto your waist, desperate to ground himself.

Your eyes widened in alarm, hands falling down to his broad shoulders before he lunged into your arms, head falling to your chest as your hands smoothed across the expanse of his back, bringing him closer to your warmth. His tears soaked your chest and shirt but you didn’t care, his cries caused your heart to break into a million pieces. You didn’t say a word until he let it all out, just pressed kisses to his curls, holding him steadily like a mountain, and rocking your bodies to distract him.

After a while he calmed down, pulling away from you slightly, his cheeks red from all the crying and something akin to embarrassment as his hands fell down to the hem of your shirt, thumbs rubbing against the fabric to soothe himself. You pushed his curls back from his forehead, him leaning into your touch like a cat. He wouldn’t meet your eyes, they were trained on the gifts absently, as if he was trying to recollect something.

“I-”, he cleared his throat, swallowing thickly after. “I’ve not received gifts or celebrated my birthday in a long time. Because-”, he paused abruptly again, eyes shut tightly as he recollected his memories.

You frowned, a hand cradling his cheek again. “It’s okay if you don’t wanna talk about this, baby”, your voice sounded like honey to his ears.

He shook his head in disagreement, glassy eyes looking up at you for a moment before they drifted away. “No. You deserve to know this. You-you’ve already done so much for me- for us.”

You brushed a thumb across his soft cheek, catching a stray tear that had fallen off.

“I-I had a brother. Younger brother”, he began and your eyes widened as he said that. Marc had a brother?

“His name was Randall”, his voice cracked at the name, as if simply uttering it was causing him pain. “One day…we were playing n-near this cave. It was raining and we went inside, not knowing how long or cramped it was. T-The rain started pouring harder. And before we knew it, the inside was full of water”, a whimper left Marc’s mouth. You felt your heart thump loudly.

“H-he was too small, couldn’t swim against the strong currents. Too small. The water went over his head. I-I tried so hard to-to save him but-I couldn’t I-“, Marc sniffled loudly, soft cries interrupting his narration as his hands bunched up your shirt again. “I called for help. I yelled so much, I tried so hard to pull him away. Bu-but it was too late. It was too late. They p-”, another sob cut him off.

You were frozen with fear and emotions for your Marc and those two little boys. Eyes stinging with tears, you held his face in both of your hands, diligently wiping away the tears.

“They pulled out his dead body next”, Marc whimpered tiredly. Steven was crying. Jake had gone silent, his jaw clenched in anger towards that evil woman that was their mother.

You felt like someone had thrown ice cold water on you. Your eyes wide and heart racing as you tried to process his words. Now you understood where his guilt came from.

“After that, my mom was never the same. She blamed me for-for his death. And she—”, he took a moment to swallow, pressing his mouth into your palm before tightly closing his eyes. “She would hit me. Often. She started drinking. Never looked at me and whenever she did, it was either to blame me or-or hit me. Dad would do nothing. He didn’t-didn’t put a stop to it. She wouldn’t even wish me a happy birthday. And then I enlisted in the Marines. Life was too fucked up to even think about taking a nap. That’s why I’ve not celebrated one since I was 13.”

The words were heavy in your palm, he had whispered them with so much sorrow, that it sent a sharp pang of sadness and hurt throughout your body. Your mouth felt dry, words lost as you looked at him helplessly, like you weren’t sure how to take his pain and trauma away. All you wanted to do, was to wrap up that little boy and his brother in your arms and protect them. From the rain, from the water, the cave and from their mother.

You sniffled, shuffling closer to press your forehead to his, a hand buried in the curls at the back of his head to soothe him. “You were just a kid, baby. It’s not your fault. You deserved to be protected, too. I’m so sorry, Marc”, your soothing words washed over him like a warm spring breeze. His eyes closing in relief as his nose brushed against yours, steady tears gliding down his cheeks like raindrops on a window.

“Your mother- if I can even call her that- was wrong. You did everything to save Randall. You were, are, so brave and I’m so, so proud of you”, you kissed all over his face as you said that, his shoulders dropping as he felt the tension leave his body. He looked at your damp face for a moment, your attentive hands brushing his curls while a gentle smile played on your lips.

"You've turned my birthday into something memorable. I'll never forget this day. You’ve changed my life and I love it. A lot", he murmured, voice hoarse with all the crying. Your eyes twinkled with excitement and joy, a wet smile spreading on your face.

"I have one more thing for you", you sheepishly added, making him furrow his eyebrows in hesitance, the thought of you spending your hard earned money over someone like him made him restless.

"You already got me so much-"

"Shush", you put a finger to his lips, "Just sit back and accept the gifts, Spector." He blinked dumbly before sitting back down.

“Mate, shut up before I take over”, Steven quipped. Marc growled in half hearted irritation.

You pulled up your phone, quickly opening the gallery app to find the screenshot of the tickets and handed him the phone. Marc took it carefully, as if it was something precious, his eyebrows creasing once again as he sniffled and looked at screen.

And for the third time, Marc froze. His eyes widened and mouth fell open in surprise. He looked like a deer in headlights. “Holy fuck”, Steven muttered in the headspace, Jake following with a “Damn”.

“You’re kidding. Babe, are you serious?!”, Marc replied incredulously, his wide like a child on Christmas morning, voice still low and slightly hoarse, but you could hear the excitement still.

Your lips split into a big smile, heart squeezing with love for this beautiful man in front of you. “You like it?”

"Like it?! I love it", Marc laughed in disbelief, his eyes tearing up again as he looked at the tickets closely. Tickets that were bought for him, to see his favourite team play right in front of him. He looked up at you, then at the tickets, then at the gifts in the box, a red tinge taking over his face as he came down from the excitement.

"You didn't have to do all this. I don't know what I did to deserve it", you tried to correct him before he gently stopped you, "But, thank you. I-It means a lot to me. I'll cherish this forever. My first, and the best gifts, I'll ever receive", he gave you a shy smile. One that made his dimples pop out and eyes crinkle. Your favourite smile.

You returned it with a sweet smile of your own. One that made his heart race. Marc put your phone and the box aside, bringing you closer to him in a bone crushing hug, his arms wrapped around you snugly and head buried in your hair, a content sigh leaving his mouth as he felt your arms snake around him, your face buried into his neck, soft lips brushing against his heated skin. It felt like he was pouring all of his love and gratitude into the hug, years and years of suppressed desire to let himself be loved on seemed to have melted away.

He felt a relaxed breeze pass through his bones, as if his body also knew, that this was healing. "I love you. So much", he murmured into your hair, lips pressing a lingering kiss to the strands before laying his head back, eyes closed in relief.

You simply smiled against his throat, your hands brushing over his back in slow strokes, voice coated with something tender and sticky as you whispered, "I love you too, Marc. Always."

And you would. You'd make sure that Marc Spector was loved, cared, protected and spoiled for, always and forever.

-

You didn’t know much about Marc Spector at first except that he was from Chicago but was back in the States after years abroad. Now he worked security at your ex's family’s company and that’s how you met, unofficially.

It wasn't that you didn't notice him. He wasn't exactly tall, but his shoulders were broad for his frame, even through the slightly-too-large standard issue button up. He stood with his legs shoulder width apart, one hand holding his opposite wrist in front of him.* The black dress pants did nothing to hide the delicious back side of him. A black tie, plain black baseball cap, matching dress shoes and an earpiece completed his polished and unfairly hot ensemble.

Various people in the building occasionally whispered about "Marc the security guard.” He was kind of hard to miss.

Although you passed Marc every day on your way in to work, exchanging nods or general greetings, it wasn't until the office holiday party that you met him officially.

You almost didn’t recognize him out of his security uniform at first. After two beers, surrounded by coworkers telling jokes, his dark eyes were shining, the corners crinkling as he let loose a little.

As you and your work bestie drifted over, it was almost as if you saw him for the first time. His typical uniform mandated black ball cap was obviously absent, giving you a view of his striking dark curls. They looked so soft, you wondered who was lucky enough to sink their fingers into them. What a shame to hide that hair every day.

Then he smiled at you and it struck a chord deep inside.

A chorus of greetings went up between your two groups, with you all exchanging hellos and hugs. Your eyes landed on his and warmth flared from your neck up to your cheeks.

“Hi Marc,” you gave a little wave.

He said your name, softly. Your first name, not the typical title-and-last-name you got at the security checkpoint each morning. His gaze, intense, but open, drifted to your lips, down the smooth column of your neck to apparently study the shape of your body wrapped in a party dress.

Preferring business trousers and work suits, you realized that Marc had never seen you like this before.

“You look really nice,” he finally said, his gaze returning to yours, as neutral as if he hadn’t just ogled you from head to toe.

“Thanks, you too,” you smiled, admiring how he'd traded his standard issue white button up and black tie for a soft navy sweater. “Never seen you out of uniform.”

By the end of the party, you were kissing him in the copy room, body draped half on top of his. His hands roamed freely, feeling the curves outlined by your dress, the bare skin of your thigh. Hand gripping the nape of your neck, he tilted his head for a deeper taste, groaning as your fingers twisted into his curls, just the way you’d imagined an hour ago.

It was anything but quiet, or appropriate for a public work function, but that didn’t stop his hands from slipping between your legs.

Bellowing laughter from passersby prompted him to tear his mouth from yours, his breath hotly ghosting your cheek. “Wanna get out of here?” He murmured against your lips before brushing his mouth over yours once, twice and then kissing you hard.

“Yeah, let’s go to mine,” you offered, getting yourself presentable before ordering a ride share on your phone.

“You’re not drunk are you?” You half teased, bumping shoulders with him as he tucked himself back into place and smoothed out his wild curls. “I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

“It takes a hell of a lot to get me drunk,” he chuckled. “But you can still take advantage of me.” He winked.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

In the back seat of the car, Marc seemed to keep his distance, but you caught him looking at you several times until you finally asked, “What is it?”

“Nothing, I just…I didn’t think you would notice me in a hundred years.”

Sliding across the seat to be close to him, you laid your head on his shoulder, your heart melting. “I noticed.”

Marc took your hand and helped you out of the car, following your lead inside and into the elevator. As the doors closed, he laced his fingers through yours, and crowded close to you until your back hit the wall. Then he covered your mouth with his, reigniting the passion discovered at the office party. Only now you were alone and his restraint was gone.

By the time the elevator doors dinged open, you had to tear your mouth from his to lead him to your apartment door. You barely made it inside before he was on you again.

The thought flitted through the back of your mind that you should offer him a drink, put on some music or something, but you dismissed it, remembering he was here to sleep with you. It’s clearly what he wanted when he stopped things from going too far at the office copy room.

If this was going to be a one time thing, you decided to switch your brain off and enjoy it. This notion was made easier as he spread his palm over your inner thigh and squeezed, fingers climbing higher as he kissed you endlessly.

“Is this okay?” He breathed, stopping himself long enough to make sure the two of you were on the same page.

“Yeah, please,” you panted, gripping his bicep, guiding him closer to where you wanted him. “Touch me.”

And he did, right up against your front door, until your legs shook and gave out.

Then he laid you on the couch, spread you wide and cleaned you up with his tongue. His fingers were tender, tracing the shape of your leg, up and down, but his mouth ravenously devoured you until he pulled sounds from you that you knew were brand new. Deep moans, little whimpering shrieks of ecstasy that made him smile against your tender parts and keep going. And going.

“Can I keep going?” He gasped, reading your thoughts while unbuckling his pants.

You nodded dumbly, so blissed out you could hardly move. “Condoms…in my drawer…by my bed.”

“Hey,” he brushed his fingers over your cheek. “Too much? We can stop.”

“No, it’s good,” you sighed, reaching for him to bring him back closer. “It’s so good, Marc.”

You helped him finish undressing, happy to find he had his own protection with him.

When he pushed his way inside you, stretching you open, you realized you definitely wanted this to be more than a one time thing. Maybe he would stay the night. Maybe you could do this some more, during the night, in the morning. And perhaps you could have breakfast together. Anything to savor this feeling again and again.

After you finished and cleaned up a little, you offered him a drink or some tea or coffee. To your delight, he accepted, and the two of you talked for another two hours at your tiny kitchen table.

You talked about your family and a little about your ex, what movies and books and music you liked.

“Is it weird working for your ex's company?” He asked you.

“Sometimes,” you admitted, “but I moved departments so we didn’t have to interact so much. What about you?”

“What’s it like to work for your ex, you mean?” He teased, but quickly admitted, to your great surprise, that he had been married before.

“She was wonderful, it was completely my fault,” he shocked you by confessing.

And somehow, with this guy you just got to know and slept with, the two of you had the most candid conversation about exes, like ever. He told you that he wasn’t able to be what his ex needed. And the two of you talked long enough that you felt comfortable enough to ask, “Do you still love her?”

Scrubbing a hand over his chin, he nodded thoughtfully. “Not in the way you think. Not in a way that would lead to anything. She’s a good person and I’ll always love her, but I’m not in love with her.”

A comfortable silence fell over you both as you quietly sipped your drinks. "Is this a weird 'first night together' conversation?" You asked.

"I don't know, do you feel weird? Because I don't."

"No, actually," you admitted, hands wrapped around your mug. Everything about this moment felt comfortable. Right.

"Good." His eyebrows shot up in a cute and strangely sexy way. Polishing off his second cup of coffee, he stood, carrying his cup to your sink. "I better get going, it's late."

Well, that answered the question as to whether he would stay overnight, and for breakfast.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

That was the first of many nights with Marc. Many steamy, satisfying, sleepless nights, filled with late nights talking and the best sex of your life.

He was easy to talk to, in a way. In other ways, he was a fortress. There were times, while talking, in each other's arms, that his eyes, warm and alive, would go suddenly cold. His lips would pull into a thin line. With one shake of his head, a conversation would come to an abrupt end.

You tried not to take it personally. After all, you were still getting to know one another. Maybe he didn't want to talk about his childhood, or his family. He'd mentioned his dad only once.

Sometimes he didn't seem quite himself. He was more pensive, and spoke under his breath in Spanish. But you really liked him and were determined to give it some time.

One thing that was starting to bug you was how he never stayed the night. And on rare occasions when you ended up at his place, he would always order you a ride share or make sure you got safely home before you ever got sleepy.

Until tonight.

After cuddling on the couch and watching a movie, you slumped over on Marc's lap and fell asleep. You dreamed of waking up in bed, in his arms, sunlight streaming over his smooth, dark skin and chocolate curls. He pulled you close, smiling against your lips and kissed you sweetly. You smelled coffee brewing and breakfast cooking.

That’s how you knew it was a dream, and what brought you back to consciousness. Nothing like that had ever happened between you, not in the few months you'd been together.

When you woke up, you were facing Marc’s tummy. The TV was still on and Marc seemed to be watching it, his fingers gently raking up and down your arm.

You mumbled against his stomach, nuzzling its softness, feeling so content until you heard him groan.

“Marc?” You rasped, turning your eyes up to meet his.

The corner of his mouth curled gently as he reached to caress your cheek. “Hey.”

Climbing up to a sitting position, you smoothed your clothes. “I fell asleep, sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He shook his head, holding onto your arms to steady you. “Come here.” He used his hold on you to pull you across his lap.

Gratefully melting into his embrace, you wrapped your arms around his neck, touching your forehead to his. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep, I promise.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” Easing back, his gaze locked with yours, eyes darkening as he shifted underneath you. He swallowed hard, trying to figure out what to do next.

“I know, it’s just…you don’t like me to stay overnight. I wasn’t trying to step over your boundaries or anything, I promise - "

Marc silenced your ramblings with a soft kiss. “It’s okay,” he breathed against your lips.

He'd watched you sleeping for forever, mind racing with thoughts of how peaceful you seemed, his contentment and longing mingling over how you could feel safe with him. Yet he couldn't help but worry, keeping vigil over his own exhaustion, in case he were to doze. That was a mistake he couldn't afford to make. Not at this point in your relationship.

Still, as you dreamed, your soft sighs taunted him, warm breath seeping through the thin cotton of his t-shirt as you rubbed your cheek against the top of his thigh. At least his desire would keep him awake.

You buried your face in his neck, relief washing over you that he wasn't upset that you fell asleep.

"It's all right," he whispered, nuzzling the spot behind your ear. “I’ll make sure you get home okay.”

And there it was - the dagger in your heart. You tried so hard to respect Marc’s line in the sand. You shared so much together - dates, long talks, passion-filled nights, TV binging. You even understood that it might be too soon for him to open up to you fully, about his past, or whatever else he tended to clam up about.

If you truly cared about him, you should be understanding, that’s what you kept telling yourself over and over, but it was really starting to hurt that he wanted to usher you out into the night at 2 A.M. Simultaneously, you felt it was wrong of you to hold it against him. And that war in your mind and heart was beginning to bubble up to the surface.

You hid your tears behind a big, fake yawn, making a show of stretching your arms and rubbing your eyes before climbing off the couch.

Marc stood, following you closely, noticing the sudden glistening redness in your typically serene eyes. “Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah,” you shrugged him off gently. “Just tired. Where’s my phone? I’ll get a car.”

Slowly, he gathered your phone off the coffee table and handed it over. His lips parted, dark eyebrows shifting in what appeared to be concern, but ultimately, he said nothing. His mouth drew into a firm line as a worried wrinkle appeared between his eyes.

“I…I can get you a ride,” he finally uttered, witnessing you furiously swipe through a rideshare app.

“It’s fine, almost done,” you choked out, trying so hard not to cry and hating yourself for what your brain was doing to you right now.

“I’ll go with you,” he softly offered, “and get a ride back. I want to make sure you’re okay.”

You finished up with your phone and stashed it in your back pocket. “I'll be okay. You should stay here and get to sleep or…whatever it is you do all night.” You winced as soon as the words left your mouth. Too clingy. Wayyyy too clingy. Or accusing, maybe?

“I’m sorry,” you offered before Marc could ever come up with anything to say. “I didn’t mean that how it sounded. I’m just tired. I…I gotta use the restroom.” You fled the living room and barely made it inside the bathroom in time for tears to flood your eyes. You had to get a handle on this. You felt ridiculous.

Obviously, this topic warranted a conversation, but later, when the two of you were rested and on an even playing field, so to speak.

Swiping repeatedly at your eyes, you finally used the restroom and washed up, trying to hide their redness and the tear tracks on your cheeks. Marc would see right through it though.

Just then, he knocked on the bathroom door. “Sweetheart…you all right? Your phone got a notification. I think your ride might be here.”

“Okay, coming,” you mumbled, trying one more time to splash the tears from your face and eyes. It wasn’t working. Oh well.

Yanking open the door, you attempted to dart past your boyfriend, but he clearly saw you were upset.

He wanted to go to you, to hold you, to beg you to stay, but he couldn’t. It was better for both of you that you leave mad. Because he couldn’t explain. You couldn’t stay because he was getting sleepy. It took everything in his power to stay awake while you slept comfortably across his lap. Nothing had ever felt so right in his life. The whole time he listened to your soft breath, felt you so safe and trusting in his arms, all he wanted was to lie down beside you and give into his exhaustion. Either that or kiss you awake and bury himself inside you.

He could do one but not the other. Because when he woke up, he would probably be gone. He wouldn’t be himself and he couldn’t do that to you. Not until he figured out some way to tell you what was wrong with him. That he wasn't like everyone else.

Marc cursed himself as you tucked yourself into the car and were driven off into the night.

He should have stopped you. He should have done something.

But this bought him time. Time to figure out how to somehow let you in, or let you go.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

The next day, when you passed through security at work, you tried to act normal, smiling at your boyfriend and wishing him good morning. He seemed surprised, but relieved to see your smile. You couldn’t stay mad at him, especially not when he didn’t know why. And especially not with how handsome he looked in his uniform. If only you had five minutes to drag him to your office by his tie. 

‘You look amazing today.’ He texted you once you made it up to your office.

‘Don’t lie to me, Spector. I am running on maybe 3 hours of sleep. But you are sweet to say so xoxo’

‘You slept almost 2 hours on my lap, so that’s 5 hours. That must be why you look so good.’

‘Shit, I slept for 2 hours? I’m really sorry. Embarrassing.’

‘You don’t have to be sorry. I told you that.’

You weren’t sure what to say to that. But he texted back before you could decide what to say.

‘Do you still want to come over tonight?’

You did. You really did, but it was going to hurt again when he took you to heaven, finished inside you and then ushered you out the door. Why couldn’t you just accept where he was with all this?

You had to talk to him. It wasn’t fair to be upset and keep it from him.

‘I always want to see you,’ you typed back. ‘I’ll leave earlier so I won’t fall asleep again.’

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Dinner was delicious and Marc was in a flirty mood. You barely finished dessert before he was all over you, not that you were complaining. The thought flitted across the back of your mind that you should talk to him, but you forgot to care once he kissed a trail down your body and used his lips and tongue to send you to heaven.

The two of you spent the evening in the dark, tangled in his sheets. His scent lingered here in his bed, seducing you while taunting you at the same time. You could find endless pleasure here, but it would always end. You would always have to leave.

He made you come so many times that you forgot to care for a long while, so blissed out that you accidentally drifted into exhausted slumber. Naked, in his arms, in his bed.

This time, when you woke in the night, you wanted to close your eyes and pretend to still be asleep so badly, wishing to remain in this moment a little longer before you either had to get a ride home or have an uncomfortable conversation about how it was starting to hurt your feelings.

Maybe Marc was asleep. Maybe you could pretend a while longer.

"You awake?" His voice rumbled deeply in his chest.

"Yeah...sorry. You wore me out. Didn't mean to fall asleep though."

"It's okay."

Untangling yourself from his arms, you sat up on the edge of the bed, determined to keep your composure. "I'll get a ride home."

Marc sat up right along with you, pressing his bare chest to your back and laying a soft kiss on your neck. "You can stay, baby. It's almost 3:00."

Relief washed over you like a powerful wave, nearly knocking you over. And it might have, if Marc's body wasn't pressed up against you so firmly.

"Are you sure?" You whispered, holding your breath, awaiting his answer.

"Yeah," he murmured, kissing your cheek. Wrapping his arms around you, he coaxed you back down to bed, pulling you half on top of his chest. "I don't want to let go of you."

Heart racing, you chanced the big question. "I don't want that either. I want to stay right here with you. But…”

“What?”

“But you don't like to spend the night together...right?"

He stiffened, letting out a long sigh. "I do want to. Believe me. But...see, the thing is...I…I actually have another job."

After a few silent moments of shock, you actually laughed. "Another job? In the middle of the night? Doing what?"

"Well, I...I watch over people."

"So like, after hours security work?"

"Basically yeah."

"Oh my god, why didn't you just say so?" Now wide awake, you propped up on your elbow so you could look down into his moonlit eyes. "I was starting to think I was your dirty secret or something."

"What?" He chuckled, which made your heart lighten and stop thundering. "You're my dirty something, but I don't think our relationship is a secret. Everyone at work knows, right?"

You nodded, smiling to yourself. Marc could be so literal. After agreeing with him, you apologized.

"What are you sorry for?" He softly asked, tracing circles on your lower back.

"For not talking to you sooner, about spending the night. I guess I didn't realize it was bothering me so much until I fell asleep here."

“Baby,” he whispered, pulling you against the solid warmth of his body. Although he was the one comforting you, he seemed to slightly tremble under your touch, his heart thundering in his chest so hard you could feel it. “I-I’m sorry. It’s my fault.”

“No, Marc, you didn’t do anything wrong. I know you don’t want me to stay - "

“I want you to stay,” he said firmly. "I just have to leave early. Probably while you're still asleep."

"Are you sure?" You asked him. "I don't want to do anything you're not ready for."

"I'm not ready to lose you, or even upset you," he told you with conviction.

His confession seemed to appease you for now. And he did have a second job, in a sense. No one paid him to do it, but he did watch over people. His daytime security job paid the bills. He would usually have come home and sleep as long as he could until he went out on patrol to watch over the travelers of the night, or he had a date with you.

Mercifully, the ancient god he served left him alone some nights, so he was able to get a little more sleep after he left your place, or you left his. But sometimes he patrolled right up until he had to come back home and get ready for his day job.

As he held you close, soothing you back to sleep, Marc tried to decide how much he wanted to tell you. What would you think if you found out he was Moon Knight?

That would be hard enough to tell you, but he had to keep this sleep thing under control. There was no telling what could happen if you woke up to...not him. And it would happen soon. He was losing control, feeling so exhausted, fronting all the time. You would find out one way or another.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Marc knew this would happen.

The night you spent together more than appeased you, but it created a problem. Or perhaps an opportunity. Once you spent the night together, Marc knew you would want to do it again. He wanted it too, honestly. The feel of you in his arms - your warm breath against his throat - he wanted more. He wanted to let you in.

But he’d never done anything like this before. Very few people knew he was Moon Knight and fewer still knew he was…the way he was. His secrets ruined his marriage, and had kept him single in the years since. He’d let this thing with you go on too long to consider it a fling. He wanted to be with you. Sometimes you were all he could think about.

He didn’t want to lose you.

He simply had no idea how to keep you.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

In a way, you felt closer to Marc than ever before, but there was something distant in his eyes. You worried that maybe you were pushing things too far now that you were spending the night together, or maybe he simply wasn’t getting enough sleep.

So you asked him over for dinner to talk about it. And even if he got handsy, you were determined to really talk and sort some things out. You loved him, he was worth it.

After dinner, you cozied up on your couch, listening to music, when you finally admitted you were worried about him.

“Why are you worried?” He asked you, slightly fearing the answer. What had you figured out?

“I care about you, so much,” you told him with a tender smile. “You know that, right?”

“I care about you too,” he softly returned.

‘You’ve been a little different lately,” you carefully stated, covering his hand with yours. “I’m hoping you’re getting enough sleep, with your two jobs.”

You weren’t wrong. He was definitely burning the candle at both ends. He could feel his grip on everything slipping. Had Steven met you at some point he didn't remember?

“So, I know I should have talked to you first, but…I asked for you to get a raise.” Chewing on your bottom lip, you winced, waiting for his reaction.

Marc blinked at you so openly, so sweetly, you hoped your plan would work. “You got me a raise?”

“Yeah."

He shook his head in wonder. "You talked to your ex about giving me a raise?"

"Yes," you nervously laughed. "So, you know, just in case you can quit your second job. But only if you want to. I mean, maybe you like it, I don’t know. I just…wanted to help, if I could.” You gestured animatedly with your hands as you explained.

“Thank you. No one’s ever…no one’s done anything like that for me before.”

“Oh good, you’re not mad,” you laughed out, touching his cheek.

“No, I'm not mad.” Blowing air out of his lips, he nodded, as if trying to convince himself of something. “But I have to tell you something too. A few things actually.”

“Okay,” you whispered, rubbing your hand up on and down his forearm soothingly.

“I…I don’t want to lose you,” he carefully admitted, clearing his throat. “But if I tell you this…it will probably change the way you feel about me.”

You swallowed, wondering if this was it. What he’d been keeping from you about his past or maybe a secret family or something. There had to be a catch. He was almost too perfect.

He stared at you, lip trembling as a hint moisture gathered in his warm brown eyes. “I-I’ve never done this before, I don’t really know how…”

“I’m here,” you assured him, holding his hand. “It’s okay, take your time.”

He nodded again, gaze dropping to his lap. “I’m not who you think. I mean, I am, but…I’m not alone.”

“Not alone?” You questioned, swallowing thickly. “You mean, like…you’re married or - "

“No,” he quickly assured you, placing his palm over his chest. “I mean in here. I’m not just me in here. I’m…I…sometimes I’m not here. I’m not me. Sometimes, Steven is here. Instead of me.” He exhaled loudly, shoulders slumping as if he’d just run up three flights of stairs.

Stroking his hand gently, you tried to understand. “Steven? Who is Steven?”

“He’s part of me. In here.” Marc’s eyes found yours. “He’s been with me since I was a kid. And sometimes, after I fall asleep, it's Steven who wakes up and not me.”

It sounded like Marc was trying to tell you about another part of himself, like another personality. Your mind turned over the thought, realizing that “personality” sounded wrong. Like…an outdated term. What was the thing that used to be called…multiple personalities? You’d seen it on TV and movies a dozen times at least. But now it was called something else.

“Marc, are you - I’m not trying to offend you, I promise. But are you talking about, um, it's like - dissociative identity disorder? Like, it used to be called multiple personalities? Is that what you’re saying about Steven?”

“Yes,” he looked so relieved to be finally making sense. “Yeah, like that, I guess. I don’t know for sure. I haven’t been to the doctor in a long time.”

His eyes went round and his bottom lip formed an almost precious pout. "I'm not ready to talk about all that. I don't want to talk about...the doctors." His head dropped and he started to turn away from you. "Please don't ask me."

You gave him a moment, not really knowing what to say. But you could tell for certain that he was trying. He was giving you a part of himself to know. To accept.

"I don't know what to say," you softly admitted your thought, giving him some space, "except that what you're telling me definitely doesn't change the way I feel about you."

Your admission brought his eyes back to yours. One tear dropped onto his cheek as he sucked in a breath. "It doesn't?"

"No, I mean, I have like a ton of questions, but just because you open up to me doesn't mean I'm going to change my mind about how I feel, Marc. I love..." Pressing your lips together, you averted your eyes, mentally scolding yourself.

Too fast, too fast...

"S-sorry," you offered meekly. "I just mean that..." You chewed on your lip helplessly.

"Don't say it yet," Marc interjected, but his voice was tender and his eyes soft and filled with something real and accepting. "Not til you know who I am. Maybe...you know, maybe after you meet Steven, or...there's just so much more I have to say - "

You silenced him with an urgent kiss, gently grasping his face in your hands. "We have time," you whispered, brushing a stray curl out of his eyes. "I can wait, if you aren't ready."

He nodded quickly, letting out a sigh of relief, eyes shining with adoration. "I'm ready, for some of it, anyway. You can ask me questions if you want. Just...not about the doctors. Not that. But about Steven or, just anything."

"Okay," you agreed, pulling one leg underneath you and getting more comfortable. "Does Steven know who I am?"

"He knows I'm with someone, yeah."

"Have I met him?"

Marc shrugged. "I don't think so. But you would know better than me. Have I talked in a British accent, or rambled about ancient Egypt? Or dressed really different?"

"Oh my god," you gasped, "are those Steven's shirts in the back of the closet? The ones with all the prints?"

"Those would be the ones," Marc laughed, his countenance brightening. "Wait, when were you in my closet?"

"You told me to get a hoodie when I was cold last week."

The two of you shared a laugh, hands reaching for each other, relief flowing between you.

"Is this why you didn't want to stay with me all night? In case you fell asleep and Steven woke up with me? Oh shit, would I scare him?"

"I doubt it," Marc chuckled. “He would love to meet you, I bet.”

"Wait...do you really have a second job? Or was that just the story you were running with until you were ready to tell me this?" Your eyes narrowed curiously.

Marc cleared his throat. "Yeah, about that..."

END

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

*Thank you to @missdictatorme for this line specifically and thank you to Dolli and other moots for listening to me

marc masterlist • moon knight masterlist • main masterlist

The slave drivers staff rapped sharply against the tiles of the huge hall as he came to a stop in the centre of the room. He leaned his weight on it, bony wrists jutting from the bright silk robes. He white-knuckled the metal and fidgeted foot-to-foot as he waited for the Zabrak to address him. Maul draped across his throne. He inspected his nails, radiating disinterest.

“Is this the troublesome thing that’s been disrupting my mines?”

“Yes, my Lord.”

“Let me have a look at it.”

Your captor slammed his shoulder into your back to send you forward. You didn’t budge.

“My Lord,” The weaselly man spoke up, grunting as his next shove failed to move you yet again. “I’d be more than happy to dispose of the fucking thing. Right now, if necce-“

“The fucking thing has a name.” You snapped, lurching at the feel of a hand at your waist. Without a better mind to stop yourself, you elbowed your way out of his grip and took a few steps towards the throne. You heart seized as you willingly walked towards the presence across the hall of Mandalore, so ominous that you couldn’t drag your eyes up from the particular tile that they refused to move from. Your skin buzzed with nerves, every motion feeling staggered as your body screamed at you to run away from the owner of the smooth voice ahead. It took you a few torturous seconds you lift you gaze.

The sight of him froze the panic pumping around your body into a pure, cold fear.

Maul reclined in his throne, legs spread and posture straight. He was a goddamned predator. By design and by the murderous intent emanating from him. His red, tattooed skin and those sharp horns were terrifying, but they didn’t begun to compare to the eyes. The yellow eyes locked onto yours. Intense from across all the distance between you. Knowing, guarded, and hungry for blood. He didn’t even need to look at you. Maul could feel the fear rolling off of you in crushing waves. He could feel every emotion - so much clearer than the usual poor soul who found themselves at the foot of this throne. There wasn’t any part of you shielded. It was strange. Intriguing.

For you, he opted for silence, letting you simmer with your own thoughts on the gruesome fates that could quickly be thrust upon you. But as the silence dragged on, you adjusted your stance wider. You squared your shoulders as much as they could with the binders locking your hands together in front of you. You tilted you chin up so that you could meet his glare dead-on - looking down your nose at him. Like a curse, you said your name with a steady confidence. Like it mattered, demanding respect.

Maul’s teeth bared in bitter amusement, and glanced to his left to share a look with Savage. His brother always knew what he was thinking, and his own yellow lips were pulled into a knowing smirk. Lazily, Maul fixed his attention back on you, and in a moment of benevolence, decided to let you in on what exactly was so funny.

“You stand like the Jedi do before they die.”

“The Jedi die with their hands bound?” Your voice felt detached from your body. That bold tone couldn’t have come from you - you were buzzing with the electricity of adrenaline, heart thrumming like a bird.

“No.”

“Fix the picture then, if it amuses you that much.” You offered your bound wrists in his direction.

His brow raised in surprise. He’d killed plenty of smarter mouths for such a comment, but there was something about it. There was a certain intimacy to being privy to you open emotions. He watched as you wrestled your fear under control and condensed it to a point. Perfectly contained. An entertaining insolence.

“Hmm.” He considered his answer, but the slave driver had taken his pause as an invitation to storm up and seize you by the neck. With considerable effort, he heaved you around to face him, dragging you backwards by the hair so that he could lean over you. You, tilted back with a bent spine.

“What did I tell you? You act your place.” He hissed in your face. From this angle, you could make out all the different shades of yellow in his teeth. Your stomach lurched at the hot feel of his breath, and the spray of spit that left his mouth with his words. “Disrespectful little bitch. Let me kill her, my lord.”

If experiencing your fear was interesting, feeling the disgust and hatred was exhilarating for Maul. He shared your sentiment. He never liked this man. The slicked back hair, the ostentatious silk draping his jagged form, and the weasly smile that Maul had to endure far too often. They reeked of his lack of class.

“You’re the one-“ You chocked as he engaged the electro-cuffs. Your body seized into the familiar convulsions and you slumped to the ground, straining every muscle in a futile attempt to fight off the burning seeping into your bones.

“I’m inclined to oblige you.” Maul’s voice vaguely registered above the ringing in your ears. All you could think of was the soothing cool of the tile against your cheek. Little did you know, Maul’s eyes were on you.

“Thankyou my Lord, I’ll gut her outside where the mess won’t be-“

“Oh not you.”

Your vision was still dark as you dragged yourself to your feet, swaying slightly but doggedly staying upright. Something guided your focus to to Maul, who was… smug. A dangerous expression for him.

“You interrupted me, slaver.”

“Apologies, I-“

The slave driver stepped in front of you to grovel for Maul, flattery and bribery falling from his tongue. But you were deaf to it. Mauls eyes had you frozen. From in the shadows of the slavers sweeping fabrics, you knew his intentions were on you, and yours on him. The babbling faded to the background as the two of you stared.

Your vision was tunnelled in on him, so much so that even from across the vast hall, a minute flick of his wrist made you jump in fright. The tiny movement felt so powerful for some reason, why? Your question was answered when you felt the shackles around you wrists shift. Like a cat, you fell into a deep crouch to catch them before they could hit the floor with a telling clatter.

Like two old friends having a whole conversation with the twitches of a few muscles, you flicked yours eyes to the man orating in front of you, then back to Maul. You cocked your head with a raised eyebrow.

Maul nodded upwards, adjusting in his chair as if settling back for a show.

You weren’t about to lose this opportunity.

Shackles in hand, you stalked up to the slaver, his back to you. After all this time wondering how you were going to kill him, this scenario hadn’t made it into your plans. An open stun-cuff lay in your palm, and a snide comment about his skinny neck popped into your head. But at the forefront of your mind - the way he’d treated you over the span of your forced servitude. Fuck him.

Just as he’d so often done to you, you laced your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck and yanked off balance. An indignant yell left the man, who squirmed at the minimal pain of having his hair pulled. You tilted him back, his head rested firmly against your chest, and slammed the open cuff around his throat. The sharp curve wasn’t meant to accomodate a neck, so when you clasped the other half of the cuff shut, his voice caught mid-scream. The inhuman gurgles and gasps that followed were damn deafening, they made your stomach lurch in discomfort. As he spasmed desperately and the wet chokes only continued, you calmly threw him to the ground and began rummaging in his robes.

Having seen him reach into that damn pocket too many times, you knew where to find the control device. The shape ingrained in your mind from hours of that fucking thing being used on you. As soon as your fingers grazed the outline of the metal, you squeezed the button, and the familiar sizzle of electricity and the stink of burning skin quickly replaces the choking as the stun cuffs crackled to life around his neck.

Finally, quiet.

Not missing a beat, you plucked his staff from his twitching hands and got to your feet. The two zabrak hadn’t moved to stop you, and were again sharing that look you’d caught earlier. The metal in your hand felt too smooth, too flimsy. Trust a slaver to carry something just for show.

“What exactly… are you planning on doing with that?” Maul questioned lowly. You don’t know what gave you the impulse to walk closer - you just knew you had an urge to see the two of them up close.

“I’m not sure.” You replied in all honestly. “What exactly you are planning on doing with me?”

“I’m not sure.” Maul shot back as you came to a halt at the foot of his throne - only a few steps away. Up close, his features offered a more intimate intimidation than before. Now, you were not only subjected to his intense scrutiny, but every little judgement he made of your character with the twitch of a facial muscle. “I should have you strung up and left for the rats after all the trouble you’ve caused me.”

“Go on then.” Your already anxiety-knotted stomach tightened even more as you struggled to keep your voice steady, projecting from your belly. Who would have thought the voice you used to call orders across the shitty cantina back home would make its way into a situation like this? “I’d think you’re going soft if you don’t. I cost you more credits than I’ll see in my lifetime. Hundreds of slaves. You’ll never get those mines operating again.”

“Are you trying to goad me, little anarchist?”

“I’m just telling the simple truth.”

“Oh there’s nothing simple about it.” His tone was so soft. Your heart quickened again at the thought of all the violent acts he’d committed while never raising from that insidious pitch. He continued, tilting his head, his horns cutting a dramatic angle against the ornate patterns of his throne. “You’re trying to get yourself run through where you stand.”

“Darksaber’s more glamorous than a whip.”

Maul rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. There was nothing dishonest about you. You said exactly how you felt, with no illusions about who you were and no attempt at deceit. Often, the people before him were not only fearful, but so conflicted and tortured. They tried to deny the fear, they cursed themselves for their inadequacies that got them here. You let your terror crash into you and wash away as it pleased. Even within himself and his brother, there was those raging conflicts of identity, purpose and uncertainty. Yet you? Nothing.

Maul reached across himself and before you could even register it, you were staring down the glowing Mandalorian blade. Would a saber strike feel hot? A faint hum filled the air as he swayed it back and forth, tauntingly. He felt a smile overtaking him. Out of all the things that had occurred on this eventful evening, that was the thing that shut you up?

“You want it.” He exclaimed, very suddenly. He identified the faint thrilled longing in you before you did. He was right. For the briefest of moments, your ambitious mind wandered to the potential that the sabre offered. “Do you know how you earn it?”

“By killing you.”

“No, heavens, you bloodthirsty little thing. You just have to defeat me.”

Despite the situation, despite the low opinion of him he’d sensed from you the second you laid eyes on him, and despite the undoubtedly dead body behind you - a spark of good humour bubbled in your chest. He couldn’t believe it. Not a shred of hatred.

“You’re welcome to challenge me for it.” He pressed, and a sudden jolt of excitement ran through you. After all the months chained up underground in the mines, the thought of anything adventurous was welcome, even if your death was an almost guaranteed consequence.

“I’m not wasting my time with you.” You grinned at the ridiculousness of your statement, not meaning a word and not trying hide that fact in the slightest. You gestured flippantly in Savage’s direction. “I’ll take the big one.”

A dangerous chuckle rumbled from deep within Maul’s chest, the blade disengaging as he shifted, looking to Savage to share his amusement. You could’t believe how easily the murderous intent had dissipated.

“Well you owe me much more than time, my dear. I’ll have to do. Ready yourself.”

Your chest seized.

“What?”

“Ready yourself.”

Barely giving you a second, he stood up smoothly and ignited a red lightsaber blade in one fluid motion.

On the balls of your feet, you slunk backwards, toeing past the limp pile of silk over your former masters’s form. Barely able to take your eyes off of his approach, you shot a glance to the pole of metal in your hand.

“Go easy on me if this thing isn’t beskar.” You blurted out, and with a nerve-driven grin, clanged the staff against the tile floor.

It resounded with a painfully synthetic and hollow clang.

You knew giving ground was a sure-fire way to lose the upper hand so ignoring your instinct to run, you planted yourself in a defensive stance. Feet set diagonally and staff grasped in the middle, parallel to the ground.

He paused, eyes flashing with anger for a moment.

“Just when I was beginning to like you.”

If you hadn’t been so charged with panic, you would have blanked at the flash of red flying towards you from your peripherals. He was too fast. Rotating your wrist to raise the staff and ducking away out of instinct you managed to block it, sending it quickly away with a clash. You could feel warmth from his sabre creeping though the metal to your fingers just from that.

“Bad form.” Maul quickly withdrew and began circling you casually. The heavy thuds of your heart felt good against your sternum. Really good. You hadn’t felt anything close to exhilaration in almost a year. “If I’d been trying, your head would be on the floor.”

Your mind flicked back to your academy days, the only free days you’d had, really, to the boys who would take any chance to condescend to you. Maul was one of them. Annoying little-

“Guard your thoughts, dear. They’re awfully loud.”

“Just get on with it.”

Before the words had left your mouth, the blade came again from above. This time, your mind did blank. You weakly swiped your staff upwards in an awkward rotation to meet his.

The force of his blow cleaved the cheap metal straight to the ground in two pieces., and the saber came to hover at your throat. There was no heat, surprisingly, only the tell-tale humming of impending death.

You frowned.

Your wrist had warmth trickling across it.

A gasp ripped from you throat when you saw your hand. The plump flesh where your thumb became your palm - it wasn’t plump anymore. The saber had shaved across it, leaving half a palm of raw flesh there.

You shot a look at Maul. The way he was patiently observing, you knew you weren’t going to die right this second. But what did you have? What did you have?? Nothing. The most dangerous thing on your person was the underwire of your bra. If you had a few minutes to rip the seams open and pry the fucking thing free, you could leave him with some minor scratches as your final mark on the world.

“Again?” You offered with a hopeful smile that became more of a grimace when you clenched your hand shut to slow the bleeding. After spending so long considering it as an equally shitty alternative to being a slave, death didn’t seem like a distant terrifying thing anymore. Even in the face of it, you were still acutely aware of the effect you had on people. It worked even on him - he liked you.

What you weren’t aware of, was how good you looked with the red kyber light illuminating your face and collarbones. The metallic taste of your blood in the air was beyond sweet. Cursing himself, Maul knew he wasn’t going to finish you, and it irked him even more that you’d figured it out before he had.

“Next time, I’ll run you through.” He warned, removing the blade from under your chin.

“I said again.” You tilted your chin up defiantly, face set in a dogged determination.

His eyes burned into you, uncharacteristically still for the moment. They ran down you, lingering on every hint of a curve and every piece of bared skin that wasn't covered with dirt and grease. The eyes flicked behind you, to his brother now lounging on the throne.

"Leave us, Savage. Cancel our audiences for the next hour. Lock the door.”

The smirk the two of them shared. You knew that look. The look of the slave driver when he’d passed you over to a client for his first and final attempt at making a private entertainer out of you. You’d read Maul wrong, you thought him to be above that sort of disgusting thing. You’d read him so wrong. You really thought for a moment that this here was something different, two minds clashing just for the love of it. But, as you should’ve expected, he was just like the rest of them. He just hid it better.

“I can feel your hatred.” Maul taunted as Savage made his way past the two of you without a word. “Now where did that come from?”

Your mind raced again, scanning the room for weapons, escapes, ideas. The slaver. His little vibroblade. His gaudy gold belt with embedded jewels. The layers upon layers of delicate silk.

You snatched up a single piece of the staff with your good hand. Placing quick and deliberate steps away from him, you quickly found yourself crouched by the body, eyes never leaving Maul as you struggled to rip a long shred of silk off the robe. Once torn, you circled it frantically around your hand as a bandage, hissing at the friction as it dragged across the raw flesh of your palm.

He just watched. He stood there and watched, eyes alight like a nexu ready to pounce. As you yanked the gold belt free and wound it around the base of your now short-staff, he didn’t move a muscle. You quickly freed the ornate knife that had been brandished in your direction so many times from the corpse’s belt.

“You’re not putting your filthy fucking hands on me. Darth, Lord, King, Whatever the fuck. I don’t care who you are or what magical shit you can do.” You stood there fiercely, knife and staff in hand, chains draped over your fingers in a makeshift hilt, and blood dripping from the silk to trail down the metal. “I can promise you - touching me will not end well for you.”

“Sweetness.” He took you in. If the particularly stubborn tilt to your chin hadn’t made sense before - it was perfect on you now. At the idea of him forcing himself onto you, you’d transformed into a woman wielding all the strength and hatred of a Nightsister. “You’ve got it all wrong.”

The anger boiled and your lips drew into a thin, disbelieving smile. God, your thoughts were delicious. Without the sour aftertaste of self pity and feelings of inadequacy, your anger was pure, on principal. You were so composed, so smart, eyes regarding him with perception that equaled that of a force user.

But your security in yourself had one downside, he realised.

Self hatred, defeat, all the depressive emotions that riddled people. The denial and the fantasy that they used to keep going meant that their thoughts were hazed and guarded even from themselves. But you? Every little observation and emotion rang clearly in a distinguishable melody. Your respect for him at the start that you had allowed to grow into an easy fondness at his good humour. But now, the potent disdain seeping from you had charged your body with fight to your very bones. The ancestral magic that lingered around himself and Savage was crackling with it.

From start to finish however, your funny little song had a heavy baseline of lust thrumming in the background. Lust for power, for freedom, and for him. Even now it played. He knew you were only fighting him on principal, acting off what you had seen and observed. The hatred wasn’t for him. It was for the past that couldn’t be changed, the present where atrocities were still being committed as you stood there - and for the hopeful future that you intended to fix your damn self. For him, in the absence of amity, the dark side was fuelling your lust along with your anger.

He couldn’t ignore the flames licking towards him any longer.

“What idiot left a woman like you to rot in the mines?” He breathed, disengaging the blade of his sabre and pausing. He didn’t often allow himself to feel exposed.

“The dead one at your feet.” At the slightest hint of movement from him, you crouched, ready to move.

“You’re never going back there, as long as I rule.”

“I know. I blew that thing to hell.”

“You’re not going anywhere else like it.

“I’d rather end up dead in a mine than alive in your silk sheets.”

“Smart mouth.” Maul hummed, his voice layered with a strange affection. He raised his empty hands calmingly. “I’ve had my fun. I don’t want to end up hurting you.”

You remained silent. That voice. If you weren’t bleeding you’d think it was a bedroom voice. You wouldn’t have minded tha-

“Universe.” he continued, paused to muffle a chuckle. “Your thoughts are deafening. I know some things that I think you’d want to remain private.”

“Which things?” Your heart thumped.

“I’d feel rather unsavoury repeating them.”

“Unsavo-“ you blanched, slack-jawing with shock that knocked the thought of the fight right out of you. Holy fucking shit- no-

“Quite the gutter mouth, aren’t you?”

“Shut up. Shut up.” You hissed, gripping the knife and bar in your hand so tightly that they trembled like leaves in the wind. “That doesn’t mean shit. I’ll still kill you for touching me-“

“I don’t doubt it.” He purred, taking a few slow steps closer.

“Stop.”

“Do you want me to?”

“Get away from me!”

“Tell me with your mind. I’m in your head, sweetness. Will me to stop. Picture it. Give me the slightest hint that you want me to.”

You couldn’t.

The logical voice in your head, shaped my society and your experiences was telling you not to give him the satisfaction, that you were about to be used. But your gut? It had a sense of its own, as always. It told you to… trust him?

Different body parts were having very fucking insistent opinions as well.

“Zabrak.” You said, changing the subject the best you could. “Dathomirian?”

“Yes.”

“Your culture holds partnership as sacred.”

“Yes.”

“Do you?”

“Completely.” He was right before you now, within reach if you felt the urge to whack him over the head.

“Yet you allow pieces of filth like him.” You nodded to the slave driver’s corpse. “To do what he does. He tried to make a private entertainer out of me.”

“And now he’s dead, you’ll notice.”

“Because I did it myself. There’s others.”

“I gave them a chance to correct their behaviour. Most of them are fleeing or dead by now.”

“I can not think of a single reason why I would believe a word you’re saying.”

“Let me show you.” He extended a graceful hand to you, eyes burning into yours much more fiercely at that close range. “I’ll show you my thoughts, just as you are so beautifully sharing your own.”

“I don’t doubt a Sith could lie through even his thoughts.”

“Just see.” The hand flexed, waiting patiently.

“I’ll stab you.”

“Here.” You froze at a gentle touch to your wrist. Unwavering, he guided the ornate knife to rest at the junction of his neck and shoulder. The gold of the dagger, and the gold of his eyes shone brightly together. He tilted his head to the side, pulling his skin taunt and flexing the tendons beneath the metal “I believe you.”

“Fuck.” You watched his neck as he spoke, imagining the pulsing artery right beneath his red skin. “Does this move usually work on the girls?”

“That’s up to you.”

“Ugh.” You looked away in disgust. You didn’t know why you were so afraid of your hand slipping and nicking that neck.

“May I?” His hand left yours and reached slowly towards your face, two fingers extended.

“Get on with it.”

The two fingers hovered for another moment, then massaged gently into your temple. His chest rose as he took a deep breath, his eyes closing in concentration, and then your vision blacked out as he opened his mind to you.

Your thoughts were usually noisy, but the bustle of two beings in your head, two sets of emotions almost knocked you out as you struggled to decipher what you were feeling.

“Just relax.” He murmured. “I’ll show you.”

Lust. A specific kind of lust that your culture hadn’t acknowledged enough to warrant crafting a word for. You saw yourself from his eyes - from behind his eyes, where the emotions and opinions circulated tumultuously. The craving for you. He hadn’t been able to ignore your spirit. Your bright spirit that didn’t allow anyone’s grimy hands to dull it. You were the good the Jedi wished they were. Firm in your beliefs to the point that you would risk death to speak your truth. Fiery. You were a fucking fire from the moment you walked into his throne room. You flared with passion when wronged, but even as you stood there peacefully, the embers crackled, waiting for a breeze to fuel them into licking flames. You were so… alive.

There was a reverence to how he regarded you, the way you would expect him to feel for a goddess. With gentleness and fascination you would afford a delicate ornament, yet awe and respect so great that he allowed himself to imagine you at his side, accomplishing some great feat together. Shit, you thought vaguely, Zabraks move fast. Fucking hyperspeed.

That was just your character - things the force had provided him the perception to see. He hadn’t let himself focus on your body. You could feel the tension of him straining to keep himself focused, never following down trails of thought that would take him down the gutter.

“Show me the rest.” Your grip remained tight on the knife.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I see I overestimated the Sith’s abilities to lie.” You smiled, feeling the flood of thoughts hammer even harder to get out as your free hand came to rest over the one at your temple. With wicked laugh bubbling in your chest along with the nervous tension, you drew closer.

He sucked in a ragged breath, the chorus of restrained thoughts growing louder.

“Sweetness. I don’t want to give you the wrong idea.”

“Are you getting flustered, My Lord?” Your mind burst with amusement. Despite his best efforts, you’d been able to glean fragments of what he was holding back. Your voice saying his title had been one of the escapee thoughts and you couldn’t lie - you were enjoying having a beast like him wrapped around your finger. You pushed it further

“I am not- Oh. Ohhh that’s fucking delicious.” He hummed proudly and you felt the swell of his ego In your own body..

Tentatively, you had felt some need to reciprocate, regardless of him being able to feel you this whole time. You sent him your thoughts of his thunderous presence, the ability to command a room without raising a voice. The way he held himself so dignified, and how he let words fall from his tongue so beautifully controlled. Discipline, passion and his pure honesty were what had made you allow yourself to be drawn to him. You didn’t have the force, but you knew. You always knew. People. You could read them like a damned billboard.

You knew your own mind too, and although you never bothered, you could play his game and suppress your own thoughts. You teased him, letting yourself indulge in thoughts of pleasurable scenarios before focusing back in on the here and now. Him touching you, caressing you- but as fast as the image of you in an ornate bed came, the grounding presence of the marble beneath your feet sent it away.

Now, his mind was so full that single ideas were barely distinguishable, everything flurrying and melding together into static.

“Oh you’re a dangerous little thing.” He growled, hand latching onto your wrist and dragging you flush against him. You didn’t realise you dropped the knife, barely registered the clatter. His touch was gone from your temple, but the bond remained. You continued to taunt. Brief snapshots of the potential future. Spread out on the throne, on the ground, against that pillar over there. Gone as fast as they came. “You- By the Divine-.”

With a rough snarl of breath, he seized you by the waist and the back of your neck, and held you even closer.

“You want to see the rest, you’ll get the fucking rest.”

He held you there a moment, a hairs distance between your faces. His yellow eyes were on fire. You felt his nails at the small of your back, and his hot breath on your cheek.

Then, his lips were on yours, slow, but damn hungry. Your lips worked against each other with a strange fervour. His hold on you felt safe, familiar. But that mouth, the sheer heat of it, made your head spin. With every swipe of his tongue, your stomach clenched tighter.

You’d never felt this - weak in the knees from just a kiss. You were holding your own well enough, returning his passion despite gasping for breath. But when he sank a sharp tooth ever so gently into your bottom lip, dragging it into his mouth with a feral groan, you knew you were gone. You’d been desperately withholding the noises that had been straining to be let out, but as he broke the silence, you let go. As he broke the kiss, panting harshly, and began working his way to your jaw, down your neck, sucking and kissing loudly, you couldn’t hold back a shaky moan. Everything echoed in that damn hall.

The hands snuck down and pulled you into him by your ass. With your bottom half held close to him and your top half tilted back by the weight of him at your neck, you clung to him to keep from falling over with your good hand. He was so solid, unbothered by supporting your entire body weight. The hot mouth at your collarbones now completely unfaltering. His hands at your ass were delicious, you felt to pressure of it between your legs, stretching that desperate skin ever so slightly, giving you the first hints of pleasure.

You’d been in this position before, but never had it weakened your knees to fucking jelly. You knew it was because it was him, Maul. So damn ruthless and powerful. He could snap your neck with the flick of a finger. He could read your damn mind. He was the fucking ruler of Mandalore, and you knew you’d secured a foothold in his chest, shallow and precarious as it may be, it was undeniable. . You wanted to make him moan like you were, shaky and broken from the bare minimum.

“Oh. Oh.” He snickered into your neck.

“What.” You hissed out.

He chuckled again, a deep thing that reverberated in his chest. The hands that had remained firmly grasping your ass snuck lower, kneading at the flesh of your thighs. His fingers worked dangerously between your legs, so close to where you needed them.

“What?” You tried to sound demanding, but the word sounded too breathy, too high.

“You’re a power hungry little thing.” He hummed, trailing his tongue up your neck on his way to stare you dead in the eye. “You’d just love to be fucked on that throne over there, wouldn’t you?”

“I don’t know.” You smiled in anticipation of your own snark. “I can think of a few places I’d rather sit.”

You knew he saw where your thoughts went - to those yellow eyes looking up from between your thighs as you rode his face.

“No. There’s nowhere you’d rather be then up there.” He grinned as your ego swelled. You couldn’t enjoy the compliment for long as suddenly, his touch was gone from you and the room was flying past your field of vision. You let out a small shriek as you were flung across the room with the force. He slowed you before you landed on the throne, but your head spun with vertigo.

Before you could collect yourself, he was there, bracing a hand on each arm of the throne as he caught your lips in a kiss. Indignant from being thrown you shimmied to the edge of the smoothstone seat. Maul had to bend at the middle to keep kissing you and with an evil little grin, you reached up and held a horn in your each hand hand, pulling him even closer and further off balance. You laughed against his lips as, with a grunt, he dropped a hand to your thigh to keep from falling. You enjoyed this little act of power, and slid your tongue into his mouth. He gave you a broken groan.

“You’d be a bitch of a queen.” He craned his neck to rasp the words into your ear.

You let go of his horns, but hissed in pain as the worn, sharp edges of one slid against your open wound. Having forgotten the horrible thing was even there with the adrenaline of it all, the sharp sting sent your head back to smack against the throne. You growled behind clenched teeth as you rode it out.

“Fuck.” Unease shivered down you spine as you clutched your wrist with the other hand, squeezing viciously as if to somehow relieve it.

“Oh darling.” Maul’s eyes were on the wound, his voice a hoarse whisper as he dropped to his knees between your legs. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. Give it to me.”

Your breath hiccuped in your throat as you cradled it close to you. “Fuck.”

“Give it.”

“Piss off.” You smacked his outstretched hand, hard. The sound reverberated around the massive hall. He didn’t flinch. He blinked, eyes popping open in offence. His voice grew harder.

“Give me your hand.”

“Oh fuck you,” You hissed, your hand locked into a wide fist around your wrist still. “You creepy fucking dathomirian cat. Bite me. Go chase a ball of twine. Go fucking lick your ass-“

“You’re as temperamental as a rancor.” He sighed, and pulled your hand to him. He didn’t even strain. With the same effort one would draw curtains, he dragged your rigid body close to him.

Just like that, your excitement turned back into fight, and your temper flared. Your lip curled and you twisted to shove a knee into his side. It impacted with a thud, and his breath left his body in a heavy oof.

But again he didn’t shift, barely even flinched, so you drew the knee to the side to do it again.

His hand slapped into your thigh, kneading the flesh in irritation. His eyes never left yours, but they grew dark with irritation.

“Sorry.” You blurted out. Your big mouth had gotten you into near-death situations plenty of times, but this was the first time that it had gotten you well on the way to being viciously railed. “Sorry. It just… Fuck that hurt.”

“That hurt.” He squeezed your offending leg for emphasis.

“No it didn’t.”

“No it didn’t.” He agreed. “I thought if you felt guilty, you’d hold the fuck still.”

“What are you going to do? Kiss it better? Lick it like a fucking cat?” The pain still biting into your hand soured your temper, and the intimacy you’d shared over the past few minutes emboldened your tongue. But what you’d meant to be a demeaning comment, sent his eyes to your hand and made his jaw flex with tension.

“Holy shit. You’d love that wouldn’t you?” You whispered, absolutely floored at the realisation. “Fucking Zabraks. Carnivourous little-“

“Stop it.” Maul said abruptly, his voice stony and solemn. He took your hand from you, slowly. It looked gentle to your eye, but his grip was iron, his muscle barely flexed as he forced your hand closer to him. “Trust me.”

A nervous laugh broke from you. Trust him. What a joke. You trusted him to fuck you, but now you could feel the tautness of the skin along your wrist where the blood had begun to dry. The sting of the open wound along the flesh of your palm, so large that it hadn’t even begun to scab over. You didn’t trust him with this.

He unwound the bloodied silk from your hand and you hissed as it stuck, sending pain jolting all the way up to your elbow. He shot a look to your expression. You were struggling to stay strong, letting your distress translate to anger. Your brows were drawn together and your lip curled as you held back any sound. You sent your glare his way, cursing that you let those yellow eyes draw you in. Maul’s lips curved at the corners in something that was dangerously close to affection.

“So brave.” He murmured. He gently closed his own hand over your own. Your poor severed nerve endings felt every callous on his red hand and you smacked your heel against the floor at the feeling.

“Mmm.” Was all you replied, voice growling in the back of you throat.

“Open your mind up.”

“What the fu-“

“Open your mind up. Like before.”

“Are you going to mind control me?”

He ignored you, closed his eyes and bowed his head, both hands wrapped around your own.

“I don’t know anything about the force, but I can guarantee you’ll have a hard time fucking with my head.”

“Shhh.”

“I’ll stab you.”

“Stab me quietly, then.” He murmured, his own brow furrowing with… concentration?

You watched in silence as he sat there for the stretch of several minutes, the only sound his deep, slow breathing. You took the opportunity to study his face, with the heat from those damed eyes finally turned away from you. When he was peaceful, he was actually quite pretty, you thought. Fine features, like that of a wealthy coruscanti, yet branded with those red and black colours that screamed danger, like a particularly venomous snake.

A calm washed over you. Absolutely foreign, it was Maul’s influence, you knew instantly. You never felt calm, you could be content, relaxed and vaguely peaceful, but you’d never known calm. There was always a train of thought playing at the back of your mind, usually painfully analytical. His calm felt stifling to you, a suppression of who you were as a person, but it was so strong that you couldn’t even begin to summon panic about it.

Then, your palm tingled, something between a tickle and an itch. It was overwhelming, but his strong grip on your hand and mind kept you from shying away. The calm wavered, and then it was gone, and your head was your own again.

“Take a look.” He sat back on his heels and watched as your lifted your hand to your face, eyes wide with disbelief.

The crusted blood remained, but within its perimeter, your skin was healed. Slightly pink and baby smooth, not a trace of damage.

“Why?” You asked. Why would this fucking crime lord be benevolent? He was a Sith, they were fuelled by hatred, not whatever this was.

“I’m not sure.” He said simply.

“Thank you.” The words didn’t capture the gratitude to its fullest extend. After the years of hard labour you went through, that gesture of kindness hit you like a blaster shot. “Thank you.” You repeated dumbly, unable to conjure anything else to express yourself.

“It’s my pleasure, sweetness. Are you… Are you alright?”

You frowned at the undertone. It was nervous, and you didn’t quite understand his timidness. Then it hit you, and you burst into a quick laugh. “You mean…” You pursed your lips to hold the smile back and raised your eyebrows challengingly. “Am I alright to fuck you?”

You burst into another round of cackles as the sheepish grin spread across his face, so uncharacteristically boyish.

“Lord Maul. Darth Maul.” You crooned shamelessly. “On his knees and asking so politely to fuck me. No one would ever believe this.”

“Don’t antagonise m-“

“Come here.”

He froze, midway through his grumble, then, pulled himself up by the arms of his throne and kissed you again.

It was different now. Grateful, reverent. He held your jaw as his lips brushed yours. It went on achingly long, both of you lost in it. Suddenly, he must’ve realised that he was enjoying this simple act of affection far too much, because out of nowhere, he bit into your lip hard. With a gasp, you pulled away in fright, eyes wide. He looked shocked himself, as if he’d done it on a panicked impulse to cut the tender moment short. You giggled openmouthed against his cheek, something compelling you to press a gentle kiss there. He leaned into it, letting out a vaguely humored sigh of his own.

But your laughter quickly came to a halt as he dropped to his knees between your legs. His brow raised mockingly at the astounded look on your face.

“Get rid of these. Now.” He tapped an impatient hand on your thigh and stared at your clothed legs pointedly. “Come on, this is what you wanted. You wanted me to show you the rest. This is the rest.”

You couldn’t conjure a single smart thought, so you obliged, raising you hips off the throne so you could shimmy out of your pants and underwear. The second the pants hung loose over your thighs, he lunged forward and yanked them down your legs, eyes never leaving your centre. He tossed the clothing thoughtlessly over his shoulder and leaned in to lift you closer to him by your ass.

“Oh sweetness.” He groaned, his chest heaved with a heavy, slow, breath. You could feel the bite of the cold air between your slicked legs, you knew how wet you were. He pressed a hand to the inside of each of your thighs, spreading you wider only inches from his face. “Oh seven hells, that’s exactly what you are - fucking sweet.”

The feeling of his warm breath against your inner thighs drove you crazy, but it didn’t even begin to compare to how the sight of him on your knees for you while you sat on his throne made you dizzy. He was right. After living the life you’d lived at the mercy of others, you were power hungry. You were starving for it. You don’t know what possessed you to say:

“Show me then.” Your voice was low. Your next words came out with a hint of mockery; of challenge. “Put your pretty mouth to work, my Lord.”

Maul’s brow shot up in surprise, and a huff of laughter escaped him. Yet you saw how those eyes darkened. He paused for a moment, eyes looking into yours, obviously trying to conjure some smart remark, to show you your place. To your delight, he couldn’t maintain the eye contact, neck curving to glean another look at your cunt. He growled in frustration from the very back of his throat and leaned in to lick a long line across your slit.

You shivered, hands slapping to the thick arms of the throne to brace yourself. But your pleasure was short-lived. He sat back on his haunches stubbornly and glared as your hooded eyes flicked open in surprise. He let the silence stew, before he tilted his head menacingly.

“I’m going to turn that smart fucking mouth dumb.”

You smiled in amusement, but your lips quickly fell open as he closed his mouth over your clit and lapped at it with a flat tongue. You moaned. Loud. He fucked the same way that he ruled; ruthlessly.

“Shirt. Off.” He said briefly, before diving back in. A hand slapped the side of your thigh forcefully to emphasise his point. You quickly pulled your shirt over your head, scared that he might stop if you didn’t.

He hummed his approval, the hand on your thigh gripping it tighter as the other came out to slip under your breast band. He massaged your breast roughly as he slipped his tongue inside of you, letting out a muffled groan. He wasn’t even trying to drive you over the edge yet-

Maul just loved the taste.

He lapped at the inside of you hungrily, eyes closing with enjoyment as he probed and swirled deeper. And shit, you heard his thick swallow, quickly followed by another. You let out a hum of a moan, relaxing completely under his touch. At the sound, his intensity increased, nails digging into the flesh of your thigh and the hand your breast adjusting to roll your nipple between his thumb and his forefinger.

“Fuck.” You breathed, and at hearing you react, he ran his tongue from you entrance to your clit. “Fuck.” You repeated, in an embarrassingly high pitch.

“Are you going dumb on me, sweetness?” His voice came from closer.

You didn’t even realise he’d shifted. You’d just began to shape your mouth around a reply when you felt two of his fingers slide into you. A moan ripped out of you when his mouth closed around your breast, a hand on your back to keep you in his mouth.

“Yes, I think you are.” He said, swiping a thumb over your clit as the fingers of the same hand scissored you open, curling and stroking in turns. “Didn’t even need a cock. You’re dumb from just a few fingers.”

Again, with a fucking evil chuckle, he escalated things before you could reply. He quickly ducked to catch your clit in his mouth again, laving a hot tongue over the whole area. He sucked, mouthed, and started thrusting those damn fingers into you, hard, bouncing you back against the throne with every plunge.

“Mmm. Maul.” You groaned.

“So smart.” He mocked, replacing his mouth with his thumb while he spoke. “You figured out my name.”

“Shut up.”

He chuckled again, ducking back down to work you with his mouth. The muscles in your abdomen tighten on their own, chasing the growing feeling of pleasure.

“Look at you on my throne.” He grinned, lips shiny with slick. “Spread out as if its yours.”

You tried to say something, but he curled his long fingers inside you and all that came out was a moan. At that, he pressed a sloppy kiss to your clit, his suck making an obscene sound as he drew back yet again. His fingers kept moving, lazily, tauntingly, giving you just enough pleasure to keep you squirming, but not enough to drive you over the edge.

“Fucking queen. Fucking slut. So greedy. You want a bigger throne and you want your cunt stuffed with me, you wanted it the second you walked in here.”

“Maul.” Your complaint came out as a plead.

“What? Smart mouth?”

“Make me-“ Your voice cracked as he kissed your clit again, tongue sliding down as his lips tortured you roughly. He was fucking evil. He was playing with you, giving you direct, overstimulating pleasure, and taking it away as soon as the pressure began to build. It wasn’t even edging - he wasn’t letting you get close - just fucking torture. Wanting more, or it all being too much,

“What was that?”

“Maul. Please.”

“Dumb mouth.” He chuckled wickedly, “Fucking dumb.”

“If you won’t make me cum, I’ll do it my damn self.” You hissed, reaching for your throbbing clit.

But he caught your wrist, eyes never leaving yours, fingers still working you lazily. You thought that he was strong before, but now his grip was iron. It hurt. You realised he’d handled you with care before, even when he’d thrown you, it didn’t hurt this much.

You wanted it to hurt more.

You struggled against him harder, loving the electricity of his nails digging into your flesh. His muscles barely flexed, and your hand barely moved despite your efforts. Those damned yellow eyes saw straight through you, bright and smug. He cocked his head, fingers stilling inside you.

“You like this.” He said simply, eyes narrowed as he gauged your reaction.

“Hmm?” You tried to sound coy, but it didn’t come out right. It sounded… dumb and guilty.

He licked his lips, and then his nails bit into your wrist hard enough to sting.

You inhaled sharply, the breath stuttering and catching to produce an undeniably sexual sound. The feeling went straight to between your legs and your knees tried to jolt together. A shaky breath of his own answered yours. Both of you stared at the other, you unable to deny the effect the pain had on you - and him unable to believe it as you pulsed and clenched around his fingers.

“You like it.” He hissed, grip unwavering. The nails plunged deeper. The pain began to throb and burn. You clenched around him again.

“I like it.” You breathed, head dropping back onto the throne, all resistance lost.

“Fuck. Fuck.” Maul growled, something deep and carnal from the very bottom of his chest. He lunged down so suddenly that you jumped. You could only groan as he nipped at the flesh of the inside of your thighs. His hand let go of your wrist and you could feel the shape of the crescent indentations he’d left. The hand slid up, feeling its way along your shoulder until it came to brush the side of your neck. Your breath caught and you lifted your head to look at him.

Those intense yellow eyes were gauging your reaction as his thumb spread along your throat, his hand now encircling your neck.

“You like this too?”

Gods you loved it. You didn’t realise you would. If it was anyone else, you would’ve smacked them for trying. With Maul, it wasn’t an insecure lover diminishing you to uplift themselves. It was instinctive with him. He had regarded each of your desperate moans with reverence, staying composed as if he expected this of himself; as if he held you writhing and begging without him even breaking a sweat as the minimum standard for his performance.

But now? A dangerous mood was unfurling between the two of you. It was creeping up quietly, slowly. Both of you spoke in hushed whispers as it drew closer.

“Mhmm.” You answered softly. You tilted your chin up to bare your throat to him. His grip tightened ever so slightly, not enough to hurt but enough to make your head feel deliciously warm. You groaned, struggling to keep your eyes from fluttering closed in bliss so that you could watch him. His composure was failing. His breath grew heavier and eyes grew ravenous.

“Sweetness.” He breathed. “Oh fuck.” His hand slid up to grip your jaw. His fingers came away from your face for a moment, then he brought them back with a firm slap, not hard, but enough to make a sound. Enough to make your lips part in a gasp of surprise that sounded far too close to a moan. The jolt of the fright was quickly drowned out by the swell of arousal in your stomach. Yet again, you felt yourself flutter around those fucking fingers.

“Gorgeous.”

The fingers dragged down your cheek, two of them resting on your lips. He paused there, waiting, as if he expected something. You stared back, eyes soft with arousal.

You lifted your head and sucked the fingers into your mouth.

Maul gave you a broken groan.

“Of course you like that. Hells above. You’re perfect.”

“Mmm.” You confirmed. You ran your tongue over the rough pads of his fingertips.

“Fuck. Can I bite you, love?”

You stilled from your movements to stare at him with a raised eyebrow. He’d thrown you across the room, choked you, slapped you, and he’s asking if he can bite? After a long pause you hit him with a muffled, condescending, “Uh huh?”

“Watch it.” His fingers bit into the flesh of your thigh as he grabbed you with a growl, leaning closer into your neck and letting his tongue glide up it. “Fucking smart mouth.”

“Seems… fuck… seems obvious. Yes. Please.”

“I mean bite you. Not deep, just enough to draw blood. The taste… It’s like how you’d enjoy fruits and sweets. I know you taste so good, darling. You smell like fucking dessert.”

Hmm.” Your annoying, thoughtful noise morphed into a giggle, and then a breathy moan when he dragged a sharp tooth across your neck. “Make me feel good first.”

“You’re dripping on my floor. I’d say you’re already feeling good.”

“I want to cum.”

“You want to cum? I’ll make you cum then. Demanding little whore.”

He did it so easily. On his knees, he gave you everything at the same time. Those tattooed fingers probed and curled and between each stroke, he pushed his tongue down the whole length of your clit. When his fingers hit your g-spot, he paused, pressed harder and sucked your clit into his mouth. If that devastating syncopated rhythm wasn’t enough, he was in your head too. You could taste yourself through his mouth, see yourself, from his inexplicably reverent eyes. Fuck. Even as your eyes rolled back into your head and mouth hung open with gasps, he thought you were beautiful. You were close already. You’d never had an orgasm that you didn’t have to chase, but this one was building whether you tried or not. It was fucking inevitable. You felt the pleasure in your pussy, stomach, and even flaring down the insides your legs.

It hit before you were ready.

Your hips shoved down onto his hand with a mind of their own, and you slid down in the seat until only your head rested on the back of the throne. You shook. Even your hands trembled with it, and he let you ride his hand through the whole devastating length of it, mouth sealed dutifully to your clit. He kept going long after you were done, tongue lapping until it became too much.

“Fuck. Stop. Stop!” You squirmed away from him, gasping. “Oh o’sik. Stars above.”

He sat back onto his heels, eyes seeming to glow brighter. His hands slid off of you, and he just regarded you, spread out and chest heaving on his throne.

“Satisfied?”

You groaned a weak affirmative, eyes rolling closed.

“Poor thing.” You heard him croon. “Can’t even talk.”

“Yes.” You breathed out. “Fuck yes I’m satisfied.”

“Oh. Suppose you won’t be wanting any more, then?”

You peeked an eye open and found him still sat obediently on his haunches, hunting hound turned lap dog. Head cocked in anticipation of your answer.