Hera Quinn

Village sat cradled in a shallow basin of the Romanian mountains, hemmed in by black firs. Snow lay packed in the seams between the cobblestones of the central square, gone grey from soot and boot-treads.

Houses leaned into each other on either side of crooked lanes, thatched roofs sagging beneath the weight of late winter, walls of timber and crumbling whitewash patched with whatever boards the men could spare.

Smoke curled from squat chimneys and was instantly snatched sideways by the cold.

To the west loomed the silhouette of Castle Dimitrescu stabbing the dog heavy sky.

At south the reservoir laid flat and oily, long straggling shacks of the fishing village clinging to the banks where Moreau's stink mucuses kept the water at bay.

Eastward, past the graveyard with its leaning crosses, that rusted bulk of Heisenberg's factory belched smoke that never quite cleared.

North, where the cliffs were highest and the trees densest, was the ceremony site itself.

A fifth Lord had come down beneath her wing and no one in the village knew his face or what he was.

Despite that, offerings had to go up the mountain path the same as always, into the dark where the new altar had been carved out of the old.

Everyone in the village understood the arithmetic of devotion by now.

Lady Dimitrescu would always hire girls that would serve at the castle, all reduced to slabs of meat hanging on a hook in the cellar by the next week.

Moreau took whoever he wanted for his experiments and half the lycans tearing through the woods at sundown still wore the rags of clothes their mothers had stitched.

Heisenberg's tithe came monthly, requesting always a small group of strong young men marched up to the factory gate with their hands roped together and all never came back.

You'd grown up with people who'd been swallowed by all of this, seen the faces of childhood friends frozen mid-stretch in the howling skull of a half-formed lycan, jaw still partway human, eyes still partway blue.

Tonight the lottery had come around again.

Luisa's house had been chosen because it was the largest with a fire still working. They cleared the table out, rolled the rug back and scattered ash across the floorboards in a wide ring.

Anyone in the village of a young age had been ordered to come; the freshest blood, ones whose offering meant most.

There were eleven as you knelt in the circle as well on the cold ash-dusted boards with your knees pressed together and your hands loose at the front. The girl on your right was crying without sound, just shudders running down her thin shoulders.

To your left a woman maybe a year older than you had bitten her bottom lip clean through, blood running down her chin in a single black thread.

In the center of the circle they placed a newborn, just barely old enough to crawl. tiny knit cap askew on his soft round head, fat little legs wrapped in wool, tiny fists.

He was Luisa's nephew, brought down from the high pasture for exactly this. They'd done it with a baby because this new sacrifice said only an innocent could feel the threads of fate pulling and a baby was the most innocent thing the village had left.

Small thing sat plopped on his bottom in the middle of the ring of ash and looked around with great big curious dark eyes.

He stuck his whole fist in his mouth and gummed it, drool shining on his knuckles before he gurgled something and laughed in a room full of people on the verge of crying.

On hands and knees, he started to crawl toward the girl next to you. M

She made a sound like a dying bird, a thin keening through her clenched teeth as her whole body shook violently as the baby crawled closer and you could see her chest hitching with the breath she could not get out.

He stopped a handspan from her knees and sat back on his haunches, drool pooling on his lower lip as he looked, head cocked slightly at her before his great dark eyes swung over and fixed on you.

There was no thought in those eyes, whatever moved through that small developing skull was not a thing anyone living could read.

He just looked at you before starting to crawl again, fat little legs scuffling through the ash until his tiny hands landed on your knees, warm and sticky as they pulled himself up your thigh, all soft baby weight and milk smell plopping right into your lap.

Looking up at you and letting out a loud delighted laugh, patting your chest with a wet palm.

Cold flooded down your spine all the way to your feet.

Someone behind you started weeping in relief, others made a quiet sick sound.

Luisa stepped forward and lifted the baby who reached after you with both arms and made a disappointed noise as he was carried out and the men were pulling you up off the floor by your elbows.

You don't remember why you didn't cry.

Maybe because the baby's laugh was still ringing in your skull and it had been such a clean small thing that crying felt obscene next to it.

They gave you a single hour to get ready, putting on the warmer of your two coats and lacing your boots twice.

The priest from the church mumbled words at you that slid off your ears before two men came to take you up the path.

Both of them were older by ten years. Stoica had a black beard going grey and a Mosin-Nagant slung over his shoulder, wood polished black with hand-oil, bolt sticky with the cold.

Andrei had a hunting rifle held across his chest and a long knife on his belt with a cracked bone handle.

They did not look at you when they tied a length of cord between your wrists and the back of Stoica's belt.

Both guns made small noises as they pushed you out the door into the dusk without even speaking.

The path north climbed out of the village and into the firs, snow much deeper, knee-high in places, branches crunching beneath human weight.

Your breath came white in front of your mouth as Stoica walked first, pulling you. Andrei stayed behind, rifle up, eyes flicking constantly into the dark between the trees.

The forest was full of teeth considering it was their resting place.

Your legs were numb halfway up, cord chafing your wrists raw and the cold made your fingertips throb, throat hurting from swallowing the same lump over and over.

A branch snapped extremely close, growls rolling out of the dark to the left of the path, an unmistakable corrugated rasp of a lycan throat.

"Stânga!" Andrei shouted and the rifle came up, muzzle flashing orange in the dusk and the report hit you in the ears.

Stoica was wheeling around firing too, working that bolt fast as his stiff fingers would let him and another shape was bursting out of the trees on the other side.

This was the opportunity you took to run.

Cord at your wrists going taut and then snapping, or Stoica's belt-loop tore, you didn't know which and didn't care as you were bolting sideways off the path into the snow and trees, Stoica was bellowing behind you, "Fucking idiot, I'll kill you!" and Andrei was screaming a different obscenity as the rifles kept cracking at the lycans approaching.

The snow was knee-deep where it had drifted, ankle-deep on the bare ground beneath the firs, treacherous everywhere with hidden roots.

You went down once on your left knee, hard, white pain forking up your thigh and you scrambled up and kept going. Your breath sawed in your throat, heart so loud in your ears you could not hear the pursuit but only the hammering of your own blood.

Ducking behind a thick fir trunk and pressing your back to it as you made yourself stop moving.

Behind, on the path, gunfire and a long ragged howl followed by wet meaty thuds of bodies hitting snow.

Much closer to your location you heard a low huffing snuffle from a lycan moving along the tree line.

Heavy claws compacting snow and crushing a buried root, the rattling exhalation of its breath full of phlegm caused you to hold your own breath until your chest hurt.

It moved past your tree and the hairs stood up on the back of your neck, arms and legs as you waited until you couldn't hear it.

Then you slid sideways off your tree, low to the ground until you were running again your hands up to ward off branches, going in the direction you thought was downhill but it might have been any direction, the firs all looked the same and the dusk had gone full dark now, only the moon glaring down through gaps in the canopy similar to long blue knives.

The forest opened and footing changed in sucking.

You'd come out into the swamp, reek of stagnant water hitting your senses.

Black pools shone here and there between humps of dead grass and rotting logs.

In the mist there were shapes of lycans by the way they stood hunched, sniffing the ground.

You crawled, cold black water soaked into your trousers up to mid-thigh and the cold of it made your bones ache as you kept the bulk of a fallen tree between you and the closest shape.

A lycan thirty feet to your right lifted its snout and snuffed at the air and its head turned, yellow eyes flashing in the moonlight as you froze with one knee in the muck, heart absolutely silent in your chest because if you breathed you would die.

Loud sound of a rifle cracking behind you and the lycan's head whipped around, it bayed in a hollow bone-rattling cry that made every other shape in the swamp lift its head as it bounded and the others followed it.

For one impossible miracle of a second you were alone and you took the chance to run.

Better say stagger ‘cause mud sucked at your boots and you had to wrench each foot up out of it.

You found a bank of slightly drier ground and you went to hide behind a big mossy stone, clamping your hand over your own mouth to muffle the wretched sobbing from it.

Andrei’s hand closed on your upper arm hard and you had no time even to scream before he was hauling you upright off the rock.

Half his shoulder torn open through the coat, blood everywhere, a huge ragged bite ripping the flesh down past his collarbone, his wild and bloodshot eyes emanating rage. "Come here you stupid brat!" he snarled, and yanked you toward him.

You drove your elbow up into his throat and he choked, twisting in his grip to get one wrist free and you tried to shove past him into the trees but his other hand came up with the knife.

A cold hard punch low on your left side under the ribs, followed by a widening sensation when he stabbed you and dragged the blade.

The hilt ground up against your coat and he pulled the knife back out, warmth came with it, soaking down your trousers in a hot wet rush.

Your knees went soft, both hands flying to the wound and you felt the lips of it wet under your palms as you pressed harder to the point your own vision white out for a second.

"Fuck—" Andrei spat. He was looking at the dark stain spreading down your side, face twisting.

He grabbed you by the back of the coat and hauled you up over his good shoulder, bent forward under the weight and started moving.

The world swung upside down for you, trees blurring past, hand staying clamped on your side and you could feel the blood coming through your fingers in slow steady pulses that matched your heart.

Stoica came lurching out of the trees a few minutes later, left forearm a ruin of teeth-marks, skin in red ribbons and cuff of his coat black with blood.

He saw you on Andrei's shoulder and his face went white.

"What have you done you idiot!" He hissed.

"He’s still alive."

"We were supposed to do it on that damn rock!"

"He's still alive, Stoica! Just move the hell faster."

Their voices came in and out of your hearing, pulse becoming the loudest thing in the world inside your ears and behind your eyes.

Each beat was a wet liquid thump and each one pushed more warmth out through your fingers and into the cloth of your coat. You watched the snow go past in patches under Andrei's boots, streaked with red where his shoulder dripped you.

Cold came in as you started shivering and could not stop, teeth clattering together and you bit your tongue, tasting iron on top of the iron already in your mouth.

The path tilted up as they were running now, both of them, Stoica wheezing, Andrei grunting with each step.

There was a rock that rose up out of the forest floor in the middle of a small clearing and it was mossed, weather-cracked along black tendrils crawling all over it like roots and veins, thick fibrous strands of something not quite plant or flesh but pulsing very faintly in the moonlight.

The tendrils ran up the sides of the rock and wove a kind of latticework across its top, with iron rings hammered into the stone at four points where the lattice was thickest.

All air around the rock smelled like wet rot and something sweet like old fruit.

They threw you down on it, cold of the rock punching the breath out of you as they pried your hand away from your wound and Andrei grabbed your wrist, slamming it up against an iron ring at the upper left corner of the lattice and looped a length of chain around it three times, clipping it shut.

Stoica did the same to your right wrist and your arms were spread, legs laying loose on the stone, twitching weakly because you didn't have the strength to chain those too and they didn't bother.

The black tendrils touched the back of your neck.

They were warm.

Stoica drew the long knife from Andrei's belt because his hands were shaking too badly.

He raised it over his head with both hands and his eyes were wet, mouth a snarl as he was muttering prayers to Mother Miranda through clenched teeth.

He coughed, small at first.

Trying to keep the knife up he coughed again, harder this time as a thin black thread came out of his mouth and trailed down into his beard.

Stoica started coughing in earnest, doubled over, knife dropping out of his hand and skittering across the rock. He had one hand braced on the stone right next to your hip and you watched the veins in his hand turn black.

It happened in seconds, thin spidery dark lines ran up under the skin from his fingers to his wrist and up under sleeves as the hand swelled, fingernails going black and curling before he started screaming, gargling, choking on whatever was that black slurry mix gushing out of his mouth, nose and ears all at once.

He sank down onto his knees on the rock and his face was sloughing, bone underneath the skin going soft, eyes filming over and then sinking back into the skull itself collapsing inward where the eyes had been.

Andrei was screaming a few feet away, his back in the snow, kicking, clawing at his own throat. His chest was heaving and his ribcage was visibly rearranging under the coat, ribs pushing up against the cloth at wrong angles.

Bites all over his arm had gone black, racing up his shoulder and into his neck and his jaw now unhinged, dropping open and far past where any human jaw should hinge, tendons of it tearing audibly with little wet snaps.

Stoica's beard fell off in a wet clump, skin sloughed off his skull and slid down over his collar.

Underneath, a thick moss had grown, crawling with thin fibrous filaments of black fungus that moved on their own.

It covered his entire head where the face had been and there were no eyes or nose, the middle of the moss-covered skull was a vertical slit open, peeling apart and inside there were jagged and mismatched teeth, bone-yellow.

His arms had gone long, fingers fusing into three big talons, then four, talons dripping the same black slime that ran off all of him in slow ropes onto the rock.

Andrei in the snow was already past it, his body had crumpled in on itself and reformed, hunched and lopsided, one shoulder higher than the other, bitten arm now a great whip of sinew with curved black claws at its tip.

He rolled over onto all fours, mossy mouth where his face had been opened and let out a long wet retch.

You watched all of this from the rock with your wrists chained above you and the warmth still leaving you in slow pulses through your side.

It was bad the fact you could no longer feel the cold of the rock. Your fingers had gone numb, each breath was a small struggle that took longer than the last to start.

The two creatures had not noticed you yet.

Or they had and they were not interested as they moved with a strange shuffling purpose into the trees.

Footsteps were coming the other way.

You tried to lift your head and it was so heavy.

There was a shape at the edge of the clearing.

A tall man, lean and in a golden jacket. Underneath you could see a darker cloth and his blonde hair stood up even further in the moonlight, mouth pulled tight at the corners.

He stopped a few paces from the rock, eyeing the chains and the dark wide spreading shine of blood on the stone beneath you as you barely heard him curse under his breath and he was moving fast then, "—shit, shit, shit, no, c'mon, c'mon—"

His face came in close above yours.

Tired blue or grey, hard to tell for your drowsy vision.

There were dark circles under them.

"Hey," he said. "Hey, hey, stay with me. I'm sorry, I should've—I tried to get here sooner, I'm sorry, stay with me please."

His voice was soft, American and painfully relaxing to hear.

You tried to say something as your mouth moved but sound came, rather your eyes began to close completely.

"Don't," he said. "Don't talk. Just—" His hand was at the chain on your right wrist and there was a small metallic snap as it came apart rapidly.

He did the left one too and your arms fell heavy at your sides.

His warm and big left hand found your shoulder, right hand coming down on the wound, pressing flat over the slick wet hole and you felt something move under his palm.

A sort of crawling and slow searching for the torn edges of muscles and nicked vessels, beginning to weave them back together one fiber at a time.

It went deeper, reaching everywhere it could now between climbing up along the inside of your ribs and threading across the floor of your lung.

Instead of pain there was a strange dull peace where the wound had been and a smell rising off your own skin like wet moss and old earth.

Through the slits of your fading vision you saw all the veins on the back of your own hand turning black for a single heartbeat.

Blackness ran up your forearm fast and then it faded just as fast. wound under his hand sealing in a series of tiny tugging pulls.

He was murmuring above and you couldn't catch the words.

His thumb brushed across your cheekbone while he observed with an expression that your blurred vision considered grief.

The tendrils of the black moss on the stone reached after you as he lifted, brushing along your back, reluctant to let go.

He pulled you free of them without a word and held you against his chest.

You could hear his heartbeat through the jacket and blue hoodie below.

The last thing you registered before darkness came up to take you was his voice murmuring above your head, not to you, to himself maybe.

Consciousness comes back to pieces, first there was a single bar of dim yellow at the edge of everything before there were blurred shapes that smeared when you tried to make them still.

A low droning murmur of voices that bent and warped as if you were underwater listening to people speak on the surface. You tasted copper at the back of your throat along something earthy and sweet and a little rotten.

You blinked, eyelashes scraping against each other like they had been gummed together with old sleep.

Blinking again, a vaulted ceiling slowly stitched itself together above you, dark beams crisscrossing high overhead, candle smoke drifting in lazy spirals up toward them.

Voices began to resolve, one of them belonging to a woman, smoky and aristocratic.

"—do not see what use a single man-thing could possibly serve. My daughters love to entertain themselves and a man's blood is so much richer than these scrawny village girls. Surely the new little Lord would not begrudge me one paltry creature."

A gurgling laugh answered her that went on too long and it ended in a phlegmy snort.

You tried to turn your head, muscles in your neck answering slowly as you forced your eyes to focus.

The room was huge, stone walls hanging with columns gone black with age. A long table somewhere off to your right, half-glimpsed at the edge of your sight. You were on the floor, on cold flagstones, kneeling-slumped with your hands held in front of you and a great heavy weight pressing them together.

Two figures stood close to one another.

For a second you thought one of the two was a child before the shape clarified and your stomach turned over.

It was a doll the size of a five-year-old girl, perfectly proportioned, dressed in a wedding gown of white lace that ran in tiers down to her tiny black shoes. The lace was old and the white of it stood out against everything else in the room because everything else was so black.

Face made of porcelain, tiny hands folded in front of her.

It turned its head with a faint clicking sound and her little mouth opened and a high giggling voice spilled out, the voice of an excited child.

"He's awake!"

Every muscle in you contracted at once as you jerked and scrambled backward on your knees and elbows, bound hands scraping the stone, getting maybe two short shoves of distance before something yanked you up short.

A massive block of dark iron had been clamped around your forearms, wrapping them together at the wrists in a single solid mass with chains running off it to either side.

The chain rattled when you pulled and it rang against the stone with the dull resonant sound of old metal that had been used for a very long time.

Every head in the room turned.

The doll squealed in a delighted shrieking sound and clapped her tiny porcelain hands in front of her chest while the abomination of a thing next to her made noises as well

"Both of you shut the fuck up!" A man's voice growled from somewhere off to the side with real menace. "Christ. Donna, can't you keep your little wedding cake from squawking?" The voice swung its weight in your direction. "And you. Hey. Kid. Don't try and fuckin' run. You won't make it three feet."

Your eyes tracked sideways, the thing standing beside the doll, who you'd missed at first because the doll had taken all of your attention, was something out of a nightmare you had not yet been allowed to wake from.

Short and hunched, body bulbous and slick with a thick layer of mucus that dripped off him in slow strings onto the stone.

His mouth hung half open and inside it you could see needle teeth set in receding gums, two thin wisps of grey hair clung to the dome of his skull.

"Hhh-hello," he managed.

You scrambled again, away from him this time and again the chain caught you.

The doll turned and walked, small joints moving with the click of a clockwork inside her and the hem of her wedding dress whispered on the stone as she went straight to a figure standing in the dimness, a woman with no skin visible anywhere on her, head wrapped entirely in a black veil that gave her no face at all.

The doll climbed up the woman's robes and the veiled woman lifted her without a sound, settling her against her hip. The doll watched you from there with her chin propped on the veiled woman's shoulder.

The slimy creature shuffled forward, stopping beside another figure you had not yet allowed yourself to look at properly and now you had to.

A man with a hammer, dressed in a battered long coat and small round dark glasses pinched the bridge of his nose. His hair was long and grey, falling around his face while a cigar smoldered between two fingers of his left hand, ash drooping.

In his right hand, balanced on his shoulder casually was a sledgehammer the size of a grown man..

He grinned at you and there was no humor in the grin.

"Sleeping beauty's up, kids."

The slimy one, Moreau, the village had whispered that lord’s name for years, scuttled sideways a half-step but stayed close.

“You mean you wanna screw around with him in private?” the man asked the towering woman and he jerked his thumb toward you.

“Where’s the fun in that?”

A grin spread across his face.

“Give him to me. I’ll give everybody a show that you all can enjoy.”

The towering woman standing opposite him didn’t even react, she merely regarded him with visible disgust.

Heisenberg looked over your head, at someone behind you, and his grin widened. "Hey, Lord-of-the-Manor. He's awake. Why don't you come on over here, get a little closer to your present? You're being awfully quiet over there."

You twisted, block of iron on your wrists scraped against the stone, sending up a sharp clatter as you craned your neck around as far as the binding would allow, finding a man already looking at you.

He was standing maybe five paces behind against a pillar, his shoulder leaned against the stone in a way that read as exhausted more than casual.

Hair a pale dirty blond, a clean jaw with the suggestion of stubble, straight nose and a mouth that pulled tight at the corners. His eyes were a pale blue-grey.

His right hand, folded into the crook of his other elbow, was the strange one. Bare to the wrist where the jacket fell back and pale, almost waxy, fingers a little too stiff in the way they curled.

Both of your eyes met his and held, something in them softened before he looked away.

His gaze slid past you, up, to the figure in the center of the room that had been there the whole time.

You only saw her now because you had finally let yourself.

Wrapped in enormous wings that fell from her shoulders and pooled on the floor around her in pleats of glossy black feathers, layer over layer, dozens upon dozens of feathers, each one tipped with the faintest oily iridescence in the candlelight.

Where a head should have been there was instead a cage with thin slats hiding the face within.

A high collar of more feathers framed the cage at the throat and a single golden ornament hung at her breast.

You did not need to see her face, having heard her voice in your nightmares since childhood and you knew it now even before she spoke.

"Ethan."

The blond man behind you breathed out through his nose.

"Yes?"

"You brought this one in yourself. You have not yet said why." Her veiled head tilted slightly to one side. The cage glinted. "What is it that you would propose?"

You twisted further around, chains rattling as the block of iron weighted your forearms toward the floor and you had to brace your weight against it in order to see him properly.

He had not moved off the pillar, arms still folded and eyes back to you for a flicker of a second, eyes dropping down your face to your throat and back up on Miranda.

"I found him up at the rock. The two from the village were already gone. They'd—" his jaw worked, "—they'd cut him open and run. He was bleeding out and I patched him up before him here."

His voice was tired, voice very calm as he spoke though, unknown to anyone, there was an undertone of seeping wrath at memories of what those brute men had done to you .

"I want to ask," he continued, "if we could stop this ritual thing. I get that there's tradition here and uh… people scared. But killing each other to get to me before I'm even in the picture, considering I never asked for any of that, is something I'd like to stop."

In your skull a series of small wires connected to each other.

He was the new Lord that you had been sent as a sacrifice for, he had saved your life and lied about how he brutally turned two men in terrifying monsters.

The fifth Lord beneath Mother Miranda's wing that one no one had ever seen.

A startled wet laugh exploded from Heisenberg's chest at the concept of Ethan finding dead corpses in his area worse than cats with mice.

Lady Dimitrescu's voice cut across the laughter. "If the little Lord finds the rituals so distasteful, then by all means, divert them. Send the lots to my castle instead. I will gladly accept what he cannot stomach. My girls would be thrilled."

"Oh, sure," Heisenberg snorted. "Of course Her Royal Big-and-Hungriness wants more food, you'd eat your way through the whole damn village if Miranda let you."

The temperature in the room dropped.

"So gauche," she said and her voice wasn’t shy in hiding contempt, "if you speak to me in that manner one more time, I will personally see to it that your insides are decorating the rafters of your own factory. Are we clear?"

"Shut your damn hole. Go look for your food somewhere else."

"You stay quiet and let civilized people talk—"

"ENOUGH."

The single word rolled through the room as Miranda's wings flared, opening outward in a great rustling cascade of feathers, four enormous black sails unfurling from her back, two and two, layered over each other, blotting out the candlelight behind her.

A single moment she stood there, framed in her own wings.

The next, she was gone and a cloud of crows erupted where she had been, great boiling mass of black bodies and beating wings, all of them screaming at once as the cloud surged forward toward you and you flinched back hard, chains going taut as a feather brushed your cheek.

She appeared in front of you. The cage of her head loomed two feet from your face and you could feel cold coming off her.

Walking slowly around you, the hem of her feathered robe whispered on the flagstones as you followed her with your eyes as far as you could, twisting at the neck.

"Ethan," she said, conversational, almost gentle, "you mentioned that he was wounded."

"Yes."

"I see no blood on him." She circled past your left shoulder, head tilted as if she were studying you. "I see rent in his clothing but no pallor of a body that has lost a dangerous amount of itself. Curious."

"He's bandaged."

From the flagstones at your knees a long black ropy tendril burst up from between the stones with a wet thick sound and you jerked so hard that the iron block clamped on your wrists cracked against the stone.

The tendril rose up in front of you, sleek and pulsing, its surface glistening with the same slimy black moss you had last seen growing on the bodies of two men in a clearing.

Fibrous, made by millions of tiny filaments that pulsed faintly.

It bent toward you and touched the hem of your shirt with an almost shy little hook of its tip and it lifted.

The shirt rode up your abdomen.

Around your middle, wrapped in a clean spiral from just above your hip to just below your ribs, ran a band of pale linen bandage.

No blood had soaked through, cloth perfectly white without a single rust-colored seep.

Miranda was silent for a long moment.

"Mmm," she said at last, somewhere between a hum and a doubt.

She had seeded the village, she knew exactly what a knife wound from one of her own peasants did to one of her own peasants and she knew that a wound that put you on a man's shoulder bleeding through his coat was not a wound that closed up under a wrap of linen by the time you woke.

The tendril let your shirt fall back into place and slid back down into the stone, vanishing entirely between two flagstones.

Miranda stood there and tilted the cage one way before turning and addressing the room.

"Keep him, then. For all I care."

"Mother—" Lady Dimitrescu began.

"My decision is final. There will be no argument." The voice rose again and the wings stirred. "Remember from whence you came."

Silence.

Heisenberg's jaw worked as he took the cigar out of his mouth and tapped a long curl of ash off it onto the flagstones.

He muttered something under his breath that was almost certainly obscene.

Miranda's veiled head turned toward him alone.

He sighed in a long theatrical sigh.

"All right. Take your toy, Ethan Winters."

He raised his right hand and it glowed, faintly, an inner blue light that ran in thin pulses from his palm out along his fingers.

The block of iron clamped around your wrists shuddered, chains shuddering with a scraping protest, peeling away and flying through the air toward him in a sudden rush of metal. He caught it on the head of his hammer without even glancing at it.

Your hands fell free and you drew them in close against your chest, rubbing at them slowly with the pads of your thumbs.

You felt very smaller than you had ever felt in your life while staying between all those lords.

A large hand settled gently upon your shoulder and the touch immediately drew your attention upward.

Lord Ethan Winters stood close enough now that you could make out details missed before like the worn stitching on his jacket, small scars along his hands.

His expression looked softer and less guarded, a small smile rested there.

Somehow the sight eased something inside you, strangely abruptly.

Whenever your gaze settled on Ethan, some instinct buried deep inside seemed to relax and it confused you considering how you barely knew him.

Trust him

The feeling settled somewhere beneath conscious thought.

Subtle but persistent.

A quiet pull that grew as Ethan’s thumb shifted slightly against your shoulder.

Those pale blue eyes glowed faintly in the dark place, like moonlight buried beneath ice.

The strange light flickered behind his eyes for only a second before fading again.

His expression softened further.

“Come on.” His voice emerged gentle. “We should get back.”

Ethan’s hand never left your shoulder but instead it slid carefully toward the upper part of your back.

His eyes remained fixed on you for another long moment to the point that you found yourself forgetting about everything else.

None of it seemed quite as important beneath that unwavering gaze.

Concern and relief conquering his expression along something deeper that he was trying very hard not to show.

“Can you walk?” He asked quietly.

“Quit squirming,” you say, trying your best to wipe Ryland’s chest down. 

“It’s,” Ryland lets out a gasp when the wet cloth passes over his nipple. The mess you made wasn’t that high up on his chest, but you couldn’t help yourself, “cold!”

“It’s room temperature,” you correct. 

“Where’s your thermometer?” He grumbles out, his squirming coming to an end as you finish up. 

“Don’t have one,” you answer absentmindedly, trying to not gasp when you wipe the cloth along your sensitive cock. Maybe Ryland was right. 

You look up as you move the cloth higher up your body, trying not to laugh when you see that Ryland’s mouth is hanging open in bewilderment. 

“I do have one,” you clarify with an eye roll, “it’s just buried in a drawer somewhere,” you answer before rolling off the bed to head to the bathroom. You wring out the washcloth under the faucet, watching the evidence of your activities circle the drain. 

On your return, Ryland is already under the covers, his glasses perched upon his nose. He glances up from his book before moving an arm out to turn down your side of the bed. 

“You look comfortable,” you observe.

“Could be even better,” Ryland murmurs in response, his fingers brushing your thigh. 

“Okay okay,” you laugh, swatting at hands when he tries to yank you into the bed. 

His book seemingly forgotten, Ryland leans up to press a kiss to your lips once you’re under the covers, “I thought you were reading,” you whisper against his mouth. 

He sends you a soft smile in response before moving his glasses down under his chin in that way that always pisses you off, “I thought of something better to do.”

You let yourself be kissed before pulling away to carefully take his glasses off, “you’re going to break these,” you huff, holding them up as you wait for Ryland to place them on the nightstand. “Ah ah ah,” you scold when Ryland tries to steal another kiss. 

This time, it’s Ryland that lets out a huff as he grabs the glasses and tosses them onto the table, making you laugh, even if it also has you wincing internally. He returns in a flash, swallowing the sound when he pulls you back in. 

He pulls away to pepper kisses along your face, “happy now?” He questions between pecks.

“I could do without the throwing–”

Ryland pulls away with a scoff, “I didn’t throw them!” He gripes, one of his hands resting on your chest. 

“There was an echo.”

“There was not,” Ryland lets out a laugh that rings throughout the bedroom, “there was not an echo,” he repeats through laughter. 

“Yeah, I think,” you bring a hand to your ear, “my ears are still ringing?” You question feigning confusion.  

That gets a louder laugh from Ryland before he’s falling onto your chest, “you little,” he begins, making you wonder what minced oath he’s about to come up with. Instead, he gets his strong arms around you, his fingers finding your ribs. 

You try to move away, but Ryland doesn’t let you, “Ryland!”

“Say I didn’t throw them,” he commands. 

“You’re being childish,” you respond with a laugh. 

For a second, you’re able to get your hands free, but before you can push them against Ryland’s shoulders, he’s got both of your hands held by your wrists above your head. “Say I didn’t throw them,” he repeats, his knees bracketing your hips, caging you in. 

Arousal runs through you at the reminder of just how physically strong Ryland is, “you didn’t throw them,” you whisper, looking up at him with wide eyes. 

Ryland leans down moments later to press his lips to yours, his hand loosening around your wrists. He lets out a hum of satisfaction with his tongue meets yours, the kiss slow and dirty. 

Your arms move to wrap around Ryland’s broad shoulders, pulling him down until his chest meets yours. 

Ryland pulls away from the kiss with a sigh, his head moving to rest on your shoulder. Your hand is immediately tangling through his hair, smoothing away the mess of sex and sweat. 

“Love you,” Ryland murmurs, his lips dragging across your skin. 

“Love you more,” you respond easily, your eyes slipping shut.

You feel Ryland’s smile against your skin before there's a soft scrape of teeth on your neck, “no,” he responds, dragging the word out. He kisses his way up your neck to pull you into a lazy kiss. 

You fight to get your eyes back open, Ryland’s weight shifting as he rolls off you to lay down onto the pillow. 

“Did I wear you out?” He questions. 

“I’m–” you start, only to be interrupted with Ryland’s yawn, “awake.”

Ryland looks at you with half lidded eyes before moving closer, his head coming to rest on your pillow. 

“You’ve got your own,” you grumble, trying to sound mad, but only feeling affection. 

You asked Bucky as you eyed the one bed in your shared hotel room when you had specifically requested for two.

It was already night time and the both of you had just checked into the hotel after a day’s worth of reconnaissance for a mission.

Bucky just chugs his bag full of what you presumed were extra clothes and his belongings on the hotel room’s sofa before turning around and tilting his head at you in question. “Are you uncomfortable, doll? I can just sleep on the floor, no problem.”

You shook your head, feeling slightly ashamed at even imposing the question in the first place.

“No, it’s fine. I just thought you’d be uncomfortable sharing a space. Also, the doll nickname is getting old.” You explained to him, getting a shrug in response before you see Bucky pull out some of his own toiletries.

Bucky huffed out a small laugh. “You’re always dressed up so nicely and I’m fine, I’m not worried about you wanting to kill me in my sleep.”

“Why is that even a thought in your mind?” You gave Bucky a look of disdain, making the man outwardly laugh as he passed by you to get to the bathroom.

Bucky stops right at the bathroom door, looking back at you. “Oh do you wanna share the bathroom or should we request to have two separate bathrooms?”

“Shut up.” You groaned at him, hearing his laugh echo in the acoustics of the bathroom. You rolled your eyes as you unpacked your stuff along with the laptop that you brought along so you could start cataloguing your findings from earlier.

You decided to sit down on the bed as you began typing up your report, not noticing the time pass quickly before you hear the water from the bathroom turn off.

Your eyes glanced at the time on your laptop, realising that at least an hour of your time had passed.

The bathroom door opened and you had to do a double take when Bucky walked out in just a towel that hung low on his hips.

“Your turn.” Bucky’s voice snapped you out of your trance as your eyes met his amused ones before you cleared your throat and set aside the laptop on the bed.

You gathered your sleeping clothes before sheepishly walking past the still very exposed Bucky to get to the bathroom, you missed the cocky smirk on Bucky’s face as you kept your eyes to the floor.

It didn’t take you long to wash up before you dressed yourself up in comfortable sweats. Your eyes widened when you walked out of the bathroom to see Bucky in bed still shirtless with your laptop in hand while in similar sweatpants.

“Aren’t you cold?” You asked Bucky as you made your way back to the bed, the other man handing you back your laptop for you to read through.

Bucky shrugged. “I run hot when I sleep. Anyway, I typed down my part of the mission so you don’t have to work all night.”

“Thank you very much. Also, you wear a hundred layers when we’re out in the day. I refuse to believe you’re having trouble sleeping with a shirt on.” You snorted as you settled next to Bucky in bed and began reading through the report on your laptop.

You feel Bucky shift next to you before you felt his body lean on your side as he looked down at your laptop.

You heart beat quickens at the sudden close proximity, your eyes trying their best to focus on the words on your laptop but you can’t help but take a couple glances at the side of Bucky’s handsome face.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” Bucky murmured, making your face heat up at being caught before you nudged at his shoulder to push him away to his side of the bed as he laughed.

You shook your head at him. “You’re such a dick.”

“Goodnight, doll.” Bucky replied instead as he got comfortable in his side of the bed, your view of him was just his broad back.

You sighed in relief before you continued with the remainder of your report, yawning as you felt the day’s work finally hit you.

You set the laptop aside on the night stand before you got yourself comfortable on your side of the bed, your movements causing Bucky to shift slightly in his sleep but he doesn’t wake up.

You turn off the lamp next to you as you let sleep overtake you, the darkness and the cold air of the hotel room helping you drift off.

You were startled awake a few hours later, the room still shrouded in darkness, when you felt Bucky thrashing slightly in his sleep.

You blinked your eyes blearily as you realised Bucky was having a nightmare before you turned and lightly touched his shoulder.

That created an instant reaction when Bucky suddenly shot up in bed, panting heavily as you saw light sweat on his back.

“Bucky?” You gently called out to him, only to flinch when he turned to you quickly with wide eyes.

Bucky squinted, confusion covering his features before realising where he was. “Doll?”

“Yeah, it’s me. You were having a nightmare, are you okay?” You carefully asked Bucky, unsure if he was still in a state of distress.

Bucky sighed explosively, rubbing a hand over his tired face. “Yeah I’m fine. I’m sorry did I wake you? I can shift to the floor.”

Before Bucky could move, your hand immediately shot out to his fleshed arm to stop him. Bucky turning his head to you in surprise.

“Hey, it’s okay. Just sit here, I’ll go get you some water.” You stood up before Bucky could even argue with you as you made your way to get a bottle of water from the mini fridge.

Bucky gratefully takes the bottle from you before taking a swig. “Thank you, you didn’t have to do that.”

“Don’t worry about it, it’s just water.” You sighed, slipping back into bed. Bucky sitting completely still instead of going back to sleep.

You worry your bottom lip, not really sure what to do or say next but you knew you wanted to comfort the other man so you moved to the middle of the bed where Bucky was.

You reached out, rubbing a hand on his forearm as a comforting gesture. You see Bucky’s tense shoulders loosen as the man sighed softly.

To your surprise, Bucky grabs your hand and squeezes it softly. “Thank you.”

“What for?” You asked Bucky, watching as he turned his head to look at you from over his shoulder.

Bucky squeezed your hand once again. “For not making me feel like a freak.”

“Just come back to bed.” You tugged on Bucky’s hand, pulling him back to the comfort of the pillows.

Bucky was hesitant at first but moved when you insistently pulled his hand until the both of you were laying back on the bed.

Bucky was still holding your hand as you turned your body so his arm was now around your waist, getting an amused huff from the other man.

“If you wanted to cuddle, doll, you could’ve just told me.” Bucky said in amusement as he settled behind you.

You tutted. “If you want to have nightmares by yourself on the floor, you’re more than welcomed to do so.”

Bucky didn’t reply, only chuckling in response before you felt him shift behind you like a warm and cozy blanket that makes you sigh at the comforting feeling of his body against your back.

“Goodnight, doll.”

~~~~~

Bucky grumbled as he woke up, feeling strange about having a peaceful sleep for the first time in years.

Bucky blinked a couple of times to only realise that the side of your bed was empty, wondering how you managed to sneak out of his grip when he was such a light sleeper.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.”

Bucky sits up on the bed to see you walk out of the bathroom, drying your hair with a towel while cladded in just a t-shirt and shorts. It makes Bucky lick his lips at the sight of you being so casual.

Bucky has been harbouring a crush on you for a year or so now, never really having the courage to reveal his feelings to you incase it would ruin the friendship between the both of you.

Still, there’s no harm in flirting.

“Morning,” Bucky replied, his voice raspy from having just woken up. “Did you sleep well?”

You snorted as you made your way back to the side of the bed to check on your laptop, Bucky’s eyes raking over your body before innocently blinking back up when you turned to speak to him.

You cocked an eyebrow at him, an amused smirk on your lips. “I slept just fine but not as well as you, did you know you snore?”

Bucky’s mouth opens in surprise. “I don’t snore.”

You let out a laugh that makes Bucky’s lips quirk at the sound.

“Go take a shower and dress up, it’s almost noon so we have to check out soon.” You told Bucky.

Bucky makes a non-committal noise as he got out of bed. “You gonna wear those shorts out, doll? I mean it’s a nice view but I don’t think it’s very work appropriate.”

“Bucky.” You said in warning, making Bucky raise his hands in surrender before going to the bathroom to wash up.

When Bucky got out the bathroom fully clothed, he was slightly disappointed to see you’ve changed into your normal clothes. He thought you looked beautiful nonetheless but he wasn’t going to embarrass himself by saying his every waking thought about you out loud.

“You’re doing that thing where you stare.” You told Bucky as you were still using your laptop before closing it and turning your attention to the metal-armed man.

Bucky blinked dumbly at you, embarrassed at getting caught and thought he had offended you until he saw the smirk on your face.

“Shall we?” You asked Bucky. “Tony wants me back in time for dinner to catch up.”

“You and your brother are one hell of a cheeseburger eating pair.” Bucky replied in amusement, making you laugh before the both of you filed out of the hotel room.

After separating at the Avengers Tower, Bucky made his way back to his own room. He felt a little defeated looking at his pillow and blanket lying pathetically on the floor.

Bucky had been having trouble sleeping and when he did manage to catch some shut eye, he’d have nightmares that forced him to wake up drenched in cold sweat.

For some reason, that one night with you in the hotel room was the best sleep he’s ever had. Bucky tries not to dwell too much on it as he went about his day until night fell and he was once again, left alone in his room after dinner.

Bucky felt restless, tossing and turning in his makeshift bed on the floor, letting out a sigh and putting his shirt back on before trudging out of his room and to the kitchen of the Avengers’ living quarters for a glass of water.

“Oh Bucky? Funny seeing you here.”

Bucky stopped in his tracks when he saw you already in the kitchen, nursing your own cup of water.

“Hi, doll. Why are you up so late?” Bucky asked you as he got his own cup, feeling his throat a little dry.

Your cheeks tinted red as your eyes looked away from him and Bucky was further intrigued. “I guess I’m having trouble sleeping.”

That makes Bucky quirk an eyebrow at you, considering he was having the same issue as he sipped on his water.

“Well, that makes two of us.”

He watched as you drummed your fingers on the cup you were holding, your eyes distant in deep thought.

“What’s on your mind?” Bucky asked, putting his cup on the kitchen counter before turning his full attention to you.

You turned to him with a shy expression, your teeth worrying your bottom lip. “I don’t know if it’s appropriate of me to say.”

“Hey, come on it’s me. Hell, we even shared a bed together.” Bucky replied, seeing your face get redder at the mention of the night before.

You sighed. “That’s exactly the problem.”

“Oh,” Bucky’s face fell, the feeling of rejection hitting him straight in the chest. “You’re right, it was inappropriate. I understand if you’re uncomfortable around me now.”

Bucky was about to leave when your hand immediately shoots out to grab his wrist, effectively stopping him as he turned to you with a confused frown.

“I’m not uncomfortable around you, Bucky.” You told Bucky in a careful tone, letting go of his wrist.

Bucky sees you gulp nervously as he took a step forward. “Doll, it’s okay. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I think I can’t sleep without you.” You stuttered to Bucky, making the man’s eyes widened in response to your confession.

You huff out a laugh of disbelief, your eyes shifted from Bucky’s face to the cup in your hand. “I can’t believe those words actually came out of my mouth.”

“I feel the same way.” Bucky replied, getting a wide eyed look from you. The redness on your face now traveling down your neck and it makes Bucky’s spine tingle with want.

You nodded slowly, as if unsure of what to do or say next. “Oh, do you maybe want to sleep with me? I mean in the same bed as me.”

The side of Bucky’s lip twitched in amusement at your shyness before he took another step towards you with slight eagerness.

“Lead the way.” Bucky whispered.

You nodded, leaving your cup in the sink before walking off. Bucky did the same as he followed behind you to your room.

As Bucky took a step into your room, he noticed how contradictory yours is to his. Your room felt more lived in with random knick knacks and collections that you got over the years you’ve lived in the tower while Bucky’s was as barren as he thinks his soul feels like.

Bucky’s eyes zeroed in on your bed, it was way too big for one person and he had an inkling Tony had something to do about your comfort ever since he practically adopted you as his little brother.

You had slipped into your side of the bed so Bucky took the other side, he was about to tug on his shirt before he turned to you. “You mind if I take my shirt off?”

“I don’t mind, you slept shirtless the first time anyways.” You responded as you got comfortable in bed, switching off the lamp next to you.

Bucky felt relieved as he took his shirt off, chucking it to the side and getting a noise of disapproval from you.

“You could’ve folded it or hung it somewhere.” You complained at him, getting an amused smirk from the metal-armed man.

Bucky shook his head. “Relax, I’m going to pick it up later. Now come here.”

Bucky beckoned you towards him and you immediately rolled into his embrace, letting out a comforting sigh when Bucky’s arm rested over your waist.

Bucky’s front covered your back, he listened to your breathing get slower until he was sure that you had fallen asleep before he pulled your body closer to his as his face was slightly smushed against your shoulder.

Sleep came quickly after that, Bucky’s dreams were just of you.

~~~~~

Bucky was losing his mind.

He was stuck in the quinjet, flying back to the Avengers Tower after completing a mission with his fellow Avengers like Shang-Chi, Joaquín Torres and Kamala Khan while Sam was piloting the plane.

Everyone was scattered all around, chattering to one another while Bucky’s eyes wandered to where you were sitting by yourself on one of the crates by the aft cargo hold.

Bucky licked his lips as he walked up to where you were, his eyes greedily taking in the new form fitting suit you were wearing on missions as Songbird.

“Why are you sitting all alone?” Bucky asked you, getting your attention as you swung your legs freely while on the crate.

You shrugged, looking back at the others with a small smile on your face. “I guess I’m still not used to having new faces in the Avengers. I didn’t want to stick out like a sore thumb.”

“You have me.” Bucky replied, getting a soft smile from you in response that made his heart beat fast.

You chuckled. “I suppose so even though we sleep in the same bed every night.”

“I don’t hear you complaining about using me as your personal heater.” Bucky retorted, getting a scoff from you in response.

You smirked leaning slightly forward with a teasing smile. “If it bothers you that much, I guess I can sleep alone tonight.”

“Oh sweetheart, don’t be so hasty.” Bucky replied, resting an arm on your thigh. It earned him an amused look from you.

You bit your bottom lip, raising your eyebrows at Bucky. “You flirtin’ with me, Barnes?”

“I’ve been flirting with you for the past year, doll. Nice of you to catch up.” Bucky said with a grin as he looked up at you.

You scrunched up your nose with a small wince. “I guess I’m that oblivious but hey, we got here eventually. Might’ve skipped a couple of steps with us cuddling in bed every night.”

“Maybe but we definitely haven’t done other things couples do, no rush though. I’m happy to wait for you.” Bucky told you with a small smile.

You shook your head with a small laugh before you grabbed Bucky by the chin to tilt his head up for you to lean down and connect your lips together.

When you broke the kiss, Bucky felt like you took his breath away and he felt dazed as he looked up at you. “Tell me this isn’t a dream, doll.”

“Even if it was, you’re still going to wake up with me in your arms.” You replied with a laugh, making Bucky sigh happily when your fingers softly caress his face.

Bucky licked his lips. “How about later tonight, we do some other stuff in your room?”

You were about to reply when the both of you heard Sam clear his throat loudly from the front of the quinjet.

“You two better not be doing anything back there, don’t make me turn this plane around.” Sam voiced out, making everyone turn to see you and Bucky in a slightly less than friendly position.

Bucky groaned, hiding his face on your thighs while you ran your fingers through his short hair with a laugh.

“This is definitely going to boost my fanfiction ratings.” Kamala excitedly said to herself.

Joaquín turns to Shang-Chi with a pout on his face, getting a questioning look from the other man. “How come you’re not being that romantic with me?”

“Seriously?” Shang-Chi scoffed.

“Kamala sit in front with me, you don’t want to be stuck in a lover’s spat.” Sam called out for Kamala, who dutifully followed what he said.

Bucky sighed, propping his chin on your thighs. “Can’t wait to go back home.”

“Guess we can finally share the bathroom and save up on water.” You told Bucky with a mischievous smirk on your face, your lips threatening to split into a grin when Bucky looked up at you with slight dilation in his eyes.

Bucky huffed out a laugh. “I should’ve told my feelings for you sooner if I knew what was in store.”

“One way or another, we’ll be in each other’s arms tonight or more specifically you in me.” You said, getting a small gasp from Bucky.

Bucky turned his head towards the cockpit where Sam was. “Sam, fly faster!”

*****

Author’s note:

I definitely kept this in my drafts thinking I could write more but I’m quite satisfied even though it’s fairly short

You looked up from your desk to see Dex walk into your office with his usual smirk on his face before plopping in the usual chair that he’d sit in for every therapy session.

You cleared your throat, picking up your notebook that you used specifically for Dex since he was a special client.

When the government comes knocking at your door to demand that you take on a client or else they’ll shut your business down, you really didn’t have a choice.

Many people depended on you.

“Dex,” You greeted the blonde man before sitting on the chair across for him, opening your book before looking up at him with a small smile. “It’s nice to see you again. How was your work in Asia?”

Dex clicked his tongue. “Oh doc you know I can’t talk much about that, it’d probably give you a heart attack knowing what my actual job is but the sights were nice and the food was great.”

“Of course, I didn’t mean to overstep.” You apologised to Dex, shifting in your seat which caused Dex to smile at the slight tension forming between the both of you.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t physically attracted to the man in front of you. His husky honey like voice was music in your ears and you’d sometimes think about Dex and his voice at night when you’d shamefully touch yourself in the comfort of your own bed.

“It’s alright, doc.” Dex’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts, making you clear your throat as you shifted your focus back to the present.

You tilted your head, giving Dex a comforting smile. “What would you like to talk about today then?”

Dex grinned.

~~~~~

“Heather? Hey, it’s me. Your annoying little brother.”

You knocked on Heather’s front door of her apartment, the sound of feet shuffling on the other side could be heard before you were met with an oddly disheveled looking sister.

You eyed her curiously. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realise you were asleep, I can just come back another time.”

Heather’s eyes meet yours and she sighed as she shook her head before stepping aside and nodded at you to come in. “No, it’s fine. I just wasn’t expecting company. Usually you’d call or text that you were coming.”

“Well,” You walked into your sister’s apartment, a slight chill in the air that made your body stiffen for a second before you forced yourself to relax. “After what happened with the now ex Mayor Fisk, you weren’t returning any of my calls or texts so here I am.”

You turned to Heather, who was still standing by the open door with a scowl on her face. Your sister almost unrecognisable after months of no contact.

“Heather, it’s been two months. I wanted to give you your space but I’m worried about you.” You told her, your tone shifting into something softer.

Heather huffed, as if your words were more irritating than comforting before she shut the door fully. “You’re right. My head’s all over the place especially after what happened with vigilante Muse, so I’m sorry I haven’t been present with you but I’m sure you understand why I’ve been isolating myself.”

“Of course,” You replied, walking up to your sister and holding her hands. You were a little shocked by how cold her touch was but you were happy that Heather was slowly opening up. “I know I can’t relate to what happened but I’m hoping to at least be a listening ear to you whenever you’re ready to talk about it.”

Heather gave you a small smile before pulling you into a hug, her hand rubbing your back as she let out a sigh before letting you go and announcing that the both of you should get dinner.

You nodded happily at her before she left the living room to wash up and get ready, leaving you alone.

Your eyes wandered around her apartment, it was pristine as always with everything being organised except for one drawer that was slightly opened.

You huffed in amusement, knowing that Heather was a clean freak before walking up to the drawer to close it but you hesitated when you see something white poking slightly out of the gap.

You turned your head to look back at Heather’s bedroom door, seeing it closed before turning back to quietly open the drawer.

Your breath hitched, your stomach dropping when you saw Muse’s mask sitting idly in Heather’s drawer. You didn’t think twice before shutting it and then scrambling to the couch to calm yourself down before you got into a full blown panic attack.

Heather’s bedroom door opened and you looked up to see your sister dressed up with a smile on her face.

“You ready to go?” Heather asked.

You huffed, laughing nervously before nodding. “Yeah, let’s go.”

~~~~~

“You alright, doc? You seem distracted.”

You blinked up in surprise, looking back at Dex’s calculating eyes before sighing and giving him what you hope was a comforting smile.

You shook your head. “Nothing to worry about, Mr Poindexter.”

“Dex.” The other man corrected you.

You gave him a sheepish nod. “Right, Dex. I’m sorry.”

“No harm done.” Dex smiled at you.

You cleared your throat before opening up your notebook about Dex as usual. “So, last session we covered your Borderline Personality Disorder and how your job is currently helping you regulate your emotions. Although, you’ve mentioned that you might have to take a break until they call you for another job. How have you been handling it so far?”

“Well, I come here and talk to you. I know I don’t come here every day, just every other week but I like that this has become part of my routine at least.” Dex replied, getting a small smile from you.

You nodded, writing down on your notes. “What other things do you usually do on a day to day basis?”

“Nothing too crazy. Just morning workouts, walks in the park, people watching just to name a few but I don’t really go out of my way to make myself known.” Dex replied, getting a nod from you.

You were about to open your mouth to ask another question when a knock on your office door interrupted you.

“Weird, I wasn’t expecting anyone today. I’m sorry Dex, I’ll just be a minute.” You apologised to Dex as you walked up to the door and opened it to see an unfamiliar man on the other side.

The man smiled, his dimples on proud display and when he spoke, he had a British accent. “Dr. Glenn?”

“Yes, that’s me. How can I help you?” You asked the man.

The man smirked. “Apologies for dropping by so suddenly. My name is Buck Cashman, I used to work closely with your sister during Fisk’s run as Mayor.”

“Okay, is there something wrong? I’m in the middle of a session with a client.” You turn your body slightly, letting Buck look into the room to see Dex sitting on the chair.

You noticed the little flicker of recognition that Buck gave Dex before the British man cleared his throat and took a step back.

You tilted your head, now even more curious of the man in front of you.

“Well, I apologise for interrupting you with a very important client. I’ll take my leave but I would like to warn you before I go, to be wary of the people around you.” Buck told you cryptically, his last sentence dropped to a whisper before leaving.

You stared at the man’s retreating back, the image of Muse’ mask in your sister’s home flashed in your mind before you shook it off and closed the door to resume your session.

“I apologise for that, Dex.” You sighed, sitting down.

Dex just gives you a smile and a shrug. “It’s not a problem.”

You paused for a second, the thought of asking Dex if he knew who Buck was crossed your mind but you knew better than to cross that boundary as a therapist.

“Let’s continue then.” You smiled at Dex, the other man cocking his eyebrow at you before doing so.

~~~~~

“What the hell?”

You said to yourself when you inserted your key into your apartment’s front door and realised that it was unlocked.

You tried to recall your morning but you couldn’t think through the haziness of what was last night and earlier in the afternoon.

You shook your head, you needed a drink to calm you down.

You turned on the lights of your living room, hung your coat over one of the dining room chairs and left your messenger bag on the dining room table before you made your way to the glass bottle of scotch that you left on a table by the side of the room.

You opened the bottle and picked up the glass cup next to it, pouring the scotch into the cup before taking a swig, your eyes closed as you gulped the feeling of warm liquid down your throat.

You let out a groan, feeling your shoulders still a little tense from everything before you opened your eyes and poured yourself another drink.

In front of you was a mirror, a decorative piece of furniture that you hung by the table with the scotch. It supposedly made the room feel bigger.

You jumped, gripping the glass in your hand tightly when you looked into the reflection of the mirror to see a woman standing behind you with Muse’s mask over her face.

You didn’t even have a second to react or think if it was your mind playing tricks on you before the intruder strangles you from behind with a string of rope.

You immediately let go of the glass in your hand, hearing it shatter on the floor before you reached up to the rope to try and fight against the death grip the intruder had around your neck.

The apartment was now filled with the sounds of you choking as you struggled against the intruder.

Your vision was getting blurry, the air in your lungs were running out so you lifted your foot up on the wall before pushing backwards, sending you and the intruder to the floor.

You coughed violently, feeling your lungs burn at every breath you could take before you tried to crawl towards the front door of your apartment.

“No, please.” You cried out when you felt hands turn your body around before those same hands wrapped themselves around your throat.

The horrific image of Muse sitting over you was burnt into your mind instantly, you knew this wasn’t the original Muse that tried to kill your own sister but it was frightening nonetheless.

You looked into the eyes of your soon to be killer, just pure sadistic hatred staring back at you before something clicked in your mind.

“H-heather?” You choked out, feeling the hands around your throat tighten. You recognised your sister’s eyes, of course you do but it was now replaced by nothing but of pure evil.

You felt your eyes stinging, you didn’t even realise you were crying before your vision became spotty.

The sound of large glass breaks before something large pushes Heather off you, letting you breathe again.

Everything was a blur to you, the sound of fighting and grunting was heard but your vision was still hazy from the lack of oxygen in your brain before you eventually passed out.

You felt cold.

~~~~~

You woke up with a start, feeling soft warm sheets under your fingertips as your eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room.

You immediately sat up when you realised you weren’t in your room, wincing at the pain on your back and your throat as the memories of Heather’s attack slowly trickled back into your mind.

“You need water?”

You jumped, turning to the voice beside you to see Dex sitting on a chair with a weird blue outfit on.

“Dex?” You croaked out, tilting your head curiously.

The man smirked, nodding before he stood up. “I’ll get you some water for that fucked up throat, just sit still.”

You nodded, still a little confused by what was happening. One second you were getting attacked by your own flesh and blood in the comfort of your own living room, the next you’re in someone else’s bed with no recollection of how you got there in the first place.

The bedroom door creaked open and Dex walked in with a glass of water in hand that you gratefully took as you began taking small sips of water with struggles of swallowing due to your abused throat.

“Where are we, Dex?” You asked the other man after putting the glass of water down, the other man sitting down on the chair next to you.

Dex sighed. “My apartment.”

“Your outfit. Does it have to do with the government job?” You asked next, eyeing the blue suit.

Dex nodded. “Pretty much but I’m being truthful when I say, you don’t want to know the stuff I do while on the job.”

“Right,” You gulped, feeling the saliva roughly go down your sore throat. “What happened to the attacker last night?”

“They got away. I was more preoccupied with getting you to safety.” Dex replied, making you raise your eyebrows at him.

You turned your body fully to him, throwing your legs out of the bed, feeling the cold tiles of the floor touch your feet. “Why?”

“Why what?” Dex cocked an eyebrow at your question as if it was the most absurd thing he’s ever heard.

You met his gaze, a mixture of amusement and curiosity in his eyes as if he was figuring out what you were going to say next so he could give you an appropriate answer. “Why’d you save me? Scratch that, the better question is how did you know I was even being attacked in the first place?”

Dex was quiet, his mouth twitching as if he wanted to laugh but knew better than to mock someone who’s in obvious confusion and distress.

“You’re my North Star,” Dex told you, his voice dropping to a whisper. “But unlike that shipwreck, I’m going to protect you and the light that you shine upon others.”

You were silent, gobsmacked by Dex’s answer. You remembered the incident with the Northern Star that sank involving Daredevil and every single repercussion to the city after that under Fisk’s rule.

You wondered, if you were to run away and pack up your whole life behind and go into hiding, would you live your life happily or would you sink like the ship?

“I’m gonna take a shower, doc. I’d recommend you stay here in the meantime, the police are currently at your apartment and your would be killer is still at large.” Dex told you before stripping the tight blue shirt off his body, making you gulp at the sight of his massive muscles as the man disappeared into the bathroom.

You slipped out Dex’s bed once you heard the water running in the bathroom, carefully studying the environment around you incase you needed another way to escape if the front door was not an option.

You were pleasantly surprised to see how neat and bright the living room was, it wasn’t as furnished as compared to yours but it was enough for one person.

You see keys sitting on the kitchen counter but thought better than to just leave and face the consequences of what Dex might do, you already figured that the man was more than capable of tracking you down again.

You paused when you reached the open window, your mouth dropping in surprise to see your own apartment window staring back at you, it was a little further away and you can’t really see what’s happening inside but you knew what your apartment’s building looked like.

A million thoughts raced through your mind and you realised that Dex was watching you the entire time and had came to your rescue only because he could see what was happening.

You felt both grateful and terrified, your emotions confusing you before jumping when you heard Dex clear his throat from behind you.

You turned to see him dressed in a tank top and sweatpants, leaning against his bedroom door with a stoic expression on his face.

“I guess secret’s out.” Dex told you, watching as you looked away from him and back to the window.

You blinked. “My window’s broken.”

“I didn’t have time to buzz into your apartment complex and run up several flights of stairs to get to you before the wannabe Muse choked you to death.” Dex replied, almost getting a laugh out of you at how insane his explanation sounded out loud.

You were still confused about everything that was happening but it didn’t stop you from striding across the room and throwing your arms around Dex in a hug.

The action causing Dex to freeze before you felt his hands settle on your back, returning the hug and you closed your eyes and exhaled into his arms.

“Thank you.” You murmured against his shoulder.

You hear Dex’s breath hitch in response, followed by the sound of him sniffing your hair before he sighed. “You’re welcome.”

It was another minute too long of the both of you in each other’s arms before you cleared your throat awkwardly and removed yourself from Dex’s personal space.

“I think I need to go back to my apartment, talk to the police and let Heather know I’m alright since they probably called her.” You told Dex, getting an unamused huff in response.

Dex tutted. “Aren’t you a therapist? If you went back to the scene of the crime and had a mental breakdown, wouldn’t that leave you vulnerable for Muse to come back and kill you?”

“Then what am I supposed to do, Dex?” You replied, feeling slightly agitated that he was right. “I can’t stay here and lay low forever. I have a job, a life and people that depend on me.”

“You’re stubborn.” Dex replied.

You scoffed. “I’m realistic. I’m more than aware that what happened last night was fucked up and I’m not stupid to not realise that it’s even more fucked up that I’m standing here in front of my own client and stalker in his living room.”

Dex’s jaw tightens at that, his eyes glancing to the window behind you.

“So either go with me to pick up the stuff that I need or wait here and watch me through the window like you always do before I come back.” You told him, getting a head tilt in response.

Dex squinted at you, his lips pursing. “You’re coming back here?”

“Where else am I supposed to go? You broke my window.” You told Dex before making a move for the front door, smirking when you hear the rustling sound of Dex throwing on a jacket over his body before he followed you out the door.

~~~~~

“You want to explain to me about how I’m your North Star by any chance?”

You asked Dex after updating Heather that you were alright and that you were going to lay low for a while, you didn’t want to give everything away in case she went after you again.

You might even have to change your office.

Dex huffed, sitting back on the couch next to you as you watched him sharpen his throwing knives.

It was weird how quickly you just accepted the reality of your situation but you’d rather stick by someone like Dex who could protect you rather than be alone and leave yourself out in the open for another attack.

Dex turned to you, his eyes boring into yours. “Because you were kind to me despite what Charles and the government had done to you by forcing you to take me on as a client, you didn’t treat me like I was some kind of gum under your shoe that just wouldn’t come off.”

“So what, this is some kind of hero worship? Dex, you and I both know that what we have is strictly professional. I truly appreciate what you’ve done for me by saving my life but none of this is normal, none of this is okay.” You told him, trying for a more comforting tone like you would use on your regular patients.

Dex huffed out a laugh, putting his knives down on the coffee table in front of the both of you before he turned his head to you with an amused smirk. “So when your eyes linger on my face for too long or when you get lost in your thoughts after I’m done talking, that’s professional?”

“What?” You replied dumbly, feeling your face heat up at being called out on.

Dex shifted closer to you on the couch. “What if I said the connection is mutual? What if I said that I like how you talk to me, how pretty you look whenever we’d sit down for our sessions?”

“Then I’ll say that you’re not really into me, you’re into this idea that I’m some sort of good person with good intentions that you cling onto so you could feel like you have some positive navigator in your life.” You told Dex honestly, seeing him process your words.

Dex’s jaw flexed. “Am I not capable of love then?”

“I think you are but it’s currently misplaced,” You sighed, watching as Dex was slowly closing off from you. “I think we’re both stuck in a very grey area in our lives and that this connection between the both of us is nothing but a farce, just a bad copy of what we see as romantic in our everyday lives.”

Dex looked away then, your eyes lingering on the long scar across his cheek. “You really are great at your job doc. Even after I told you why I like you, you somehow managed to keep it professional between us.”

“Dex,” You sighed, moving closer to him. “Even if there was physical attraction between the both of us, it’s not right for me to act on it. I would be taking advantage of you.”

“And what if I want you to take advantage of me? What if I want to prove to you that what we have is real? What do I need to do?” Dex asked you, his usual calm voice cracking as he kept asking you questions.

You gave Dex a comforting smile as you reached out to grab his hand. “I’m not a hundred percent sure if I have the right answer for that Dex. Maybe it’s just not the right time for us, everything’s changing way too fast and I don’t think I’m capable of giving you what you want other than just being your therapist.”

“So there’s a chance but you’re just too overwhelmed?” Dex asked you, his eyes suddenly rounding with a hopeful tone in his voice that you’ve never heard before.

You felt the side of your mouth twitch before you released Dex’s hand and stood up from the couch. “I think that’s enough of a heart to heart talk, don’t you think? You mind if I just took a nap or something in your room, my mind’s just a little tired from everything.”

“Go ahead, doc. I’ll wake you up for dinner.” Dex gave you a smile, watching you go into his room to lay down for the afternoon.

Dex’s eyes dropped to the knife he left on the table, picking it up to inspect it. “Don’t worry, doc. You’re my North Star after all, I’ll save you like you saved me. I’ll make things right.”

*****

Author’s note:

I know, I know it’s not a satisfying ending BUT that’s only because I know I’d be writing so much that I’d go over tumblr’s word limit and have to do rewrites so I’m stopping before I get ahead of myself

I think Dex’s character is so interesting to explore especially in a “what if he wanted to pursue a romantic connection” kinda thing but at the same time I wanted to be very respectful of everything that he went through and his bpd

I hope to find more time to explore and write for Dex, definitely expect a part 2 (or more) in the future

His hands were trembling yet forceful when he pushed you off. No words came out, no matter how hard he tried; he couldn't act like he didn't want this more than anything. Instead, he got out of your bed and kneeled, clasping his hands and mumbling a quick prayer. It jarred you, maybe even offended you a little, but you quickly got over all of those complicated feelings when he promptly finished his prayer and got back to devouring you.

It became routine. He would come 'round, the two of you would hang out and then things would heat up. Though after a good hour of his tongue wrestling with yours and his hands groping your body, he would push off of you. Kneeling on the floor, the man would pray, attempting to atone for the sins he was about to commit. Over time, you tried to understand him less and less; you stopped getting offended when he called what you two shared a sin and instead focused on how the rosary he held in his clasped palms framed his veiny, masculine hands so nicely.

Many nights of desperate moans and ragged breathing, followed by skinship and pillow-talk, obviously led to the man lowering the many walls he had built. Conversations of religious guilt, of your coming-out story, of love as a concept, they all flowed so naturally whilst his fingers brushed through your hair and your eyes fluttered shut as exhaustion hit you.

Of course, because being gay is obviously natural and not sinful, his feelings just kept growing. The war inside of him between shame and guilt versus love and warmth kept eating at him, until one night, the man began to cry in your arms.

"If this is so wrong, why does it feel so right..? Why does my heart ache for you? The thought of you with another feels like a greater sin than our love..." The man mumbled into your neck, his tears slowly dripping down your shoulder.

"You show me colours I can't see with anyone else! You've taught me a language I can't speak with anyone, even with God"

"I... I don't think I care if it's blasphemous or sinful anymore... I need you (name)... I love you! I feel with you what others claim to feel in the presence of God"

Pornographic moans were being forced out of you; every thrust from behind hit you at the core in the most amazing way, but forced your body forward, pushing out gasps, and groans, and moans, and high-pitched whines. The weight of the man behind you, more on top of you really, kept your chest against the bed, rubbing your nipples raw against your bedding. However, his rough hand on your hip and your natural instinct to push towards the pleasure kept your hips up, just off your bed. The muscular, veiny arm around your neck prevented you from resting your head on the pillow you were tightly scrunching in your fists. Though you had no complaints, not only was it hot as fuck to get fucked whilst you were technically in a headlock, getting to drool all over Nate Jacobs' bicep and forearm was sexy yet felt like payback for him being a douche. Nate's head was resting right next to yours, his massive, muscular body draped over yours as his hips thrusted his huge dick in and out of you.

His breath was hot against your ear; his rough moans, his groans, his rare whines that he cut short the moment he was letting such a noise out, they were the main sounds echoing throughout your head. The background noise of rhythmic, animalistic skin slapping against skin - from either Nate's hand crashing against your cheeks to spank you, or from the sheer force of the man's hips fucking against your plump ass - joined the harmony of sounds within your bedroom. Your own moans and rough breaths, along with the drowned-out, fuckboy music Nate had put on beforehand, were also adding to the sonic ambience of your bedroom. While the shockwaves of pleasure zapping throughout your entire body and stimulating every single nerve ending were the main source of your pleasure, you couldn't deny that the fact Nate Jacobs was fucking the shit out of you also incredibly turned you on. Sure, he's ridiculously attractive in that all-American, quarterback way. But it was mainly the fact that the dickhead who would bully you in high school, then fuck you in the back of his truck, was still so wrapped around your finger. Among the sexy moans and groans Nate would let out, Freudian slips of compliments and desperate statements would also pop up. On a nightly basis, you would hear many things along the lines of "Fuck- you're so beautiful", "A-Ah- Shi- (nameeee)... Fuck yeahhh~", "I need you so bad... please- fuck- I want you....", and your personal favourite "I'm sorry- augh- please just- just be with me... Ngh- please". Fuck yeah, that fed your ego.

Although when it got to this point, when your sight had gone blurry, your body trembling and your voice hoarse, you found you struggled to focus on the pathetic fall from grace of Nate Jacobs. Instead, your focus was on the intense muscle spasms across your body and how your moans would increase in pitch with every one of Nate's thrusts. Your focus was on how Nate's eight-inch, uncut cock had practically moulded your hole to its shape; his thick, mushroom head hitting your prostate and further every. single. time. Literally making you see stars in the form of white dots. Your focus, however little was left of it, was on the way the leaking tip of your dick would rub against your bedding in rhythm with the man's thrusts and send your body into overdrive. You could hear Nate's voice change in tone and volume, his groans becoming even more annoyingly attractive somehow as the rhythm of his thrusts began to become slightly erratic. You knew he was desperately close, and so were you; despite him already making you cum from his fingers and mouth alone during your heated foreplay. Finally, your release hit; your muscles tightening, dopamine and serotonin hitting you like a truck as your moans became pathetically whorish. Your dick almost hurt as it gushed a second load, shooting straight onto your bedding and soaking whatever Nate had put below your hips to help keep you up. Nate, on the other hand, was groaning your name along with unintelligible strings of compliments as he buried his dick as deep as he could inside of you. His muscular hips, his perfect V-line, was pressed up against your plump ass as hard as he could, grinding his dick into you as he shot his thick load inside of you. You know for a fact he was pent up. Not just from the sheer volume of cum and how hard his orgasm had hit him, but also from his constant sob-stories and complaining about Cassie.

............

Your entire body was drenched in sweat and littered with love bites, your neck tattooed with hickeys. The cacophony of sex had quietened down; now, all that could be heard throughout your bedroom was you and Nate catching your breaths out of sync. The real-estate developer had moved off of you, lying beside you, an arm still draped over your waist. These days, he tries to keep the physical contact going; whether that's conscious or subconscious, you don't know. You weren't facing him. You didn't like facing him right after; you liked to give yourself a moment. Instead, you lie on your bed and look outside your window. The city skyline on a rainy night was one of your favourite views. You'd done well for yourself after high school. In those five years, you'd gotten a degree and landed an internship you'd studied hard for. You make enough to pay for a whole floor to yourself, even though you're still entry-level at your current job. It's not a penthouse, but you have no neighbours; good thing, 'cause they would hate you for how loud you can get with men.

Nate's voice broke you out of your thoughts and admiration of the California night sky.

"Y'know... I'd leave her for you" The man mumbled behind you.

You quietly sigh and turn over to face him.

"Nate... I don't want you to do that" You chuckle.

"Wh- (name), c'mon... please... Y'know I..." Nate's words die on his tongue.

"Know you... what?" You play dumb. You knew exactly what Nate wanted to say. You also knew he could barely bring himself to say something like that.

"Fuck's sake... You know I'm gay, (name). You know I haven't stopped fucking thinking about you for five fucking years-" His fingers tighten around your waist. "I fucking..." Nate's words die on his tongue again.

Every night, Nate shocks you with how much less prying it takes for him to admit that he's gay. But honestly? You don't care. It shocks you because the quarterback who would publicly slam you into lockers and call you fag would never have admitted he was screwing you and saying 'I want you' on the weekend. It doesn't shock you because you hope that one day, the two of you will walk off into the sunset hand in hand towards a happily ever after. Maybe the insecure gayboy you were in high school truly hoped for that when Nate would cuddle you to sleep and would smooth-talk you, but he's shown you time and time again his selfishness and his own insecurity. You don't care about him anymore; he's just a screw. A really good, mind-shattering screw. But nothing more than that.

"What about Cassie? I remember you saying she was the right girl for you, especially since she was y'know... an actual girl haha" You giggle again, remembering the speech Nate gave you when he broke things off with you to get with Cassie.

"I don't fucking love her- She's tryna get famous by doing borderline porn..! I'll divorce her right now, just give me the signal!" Nate insists.

In all honesty, you didn't care about Cassie in this situation, just like you didn't care about Nate. If that made you a bad person, you, again, didn't really care. Both he and she were far removed from your life at this point, no matter how hard Nate tried to force himself back into your life. Really, you didn't know what to expect when you ran into Nate for the first time after high school. You definitely didn't expect to start fucking again, but you didn't mind it. A consistent, no-strings-attached fuck buddy who was really good at sex? Didn't seem like a bad deal. You really didn't expect Nate to catch feelings for you again, and you absolutely didn't expect him to seriously insist that he'd somehow grown up and was becoming more confident in his sexuality.

"Nate... Baby... You can leave her if you want. That doesn't mean I'll be waiting for you with open arms" You say in a slightly patronising tone.

"But why?!" Nate sat up, forcing you to lie on your elbow to be able to face him. "I fucking... I fucking love you! Why won't you just let me love you?"

It was so weird hearing that from Nate. Only once had he said it in high school, and once since you'd started screwing again.

"Because I don't believe you..? Obviously?" You said it like it was common sense.

The look in Nate's eye did tug at your heartstrings a little. He looked hurt, not understanding why you assumed he was so untrustworthy.

"Nate. You told me time and time again that you'd fuck everyone off and date me no matter what people think, then the next morning act like I was stupid for believing you. Why would I believe you now? Why would you want me now, all of a sudden? 'Cause you find me a better screw than Cassie? Or is it 'cause I'm making more money than your failing business and you need me to send you money like I used to in highschool?" You dished out some low blows, but they had to be said.

"What?- No- I- Ngh fucks sake (name), no! I just... I love you... I don't feel like this towards Cassie; I never really felt like this for Maddy. It's always been you 'n I've just been too much of a bitch to grow up and make you mine!"

"Nate... Just leave it. You're married to Cassie. We've both ended up fine; there's no need to fuck it up. If you wanna keep screwing, then I'm down, but I'm not taking your word on anything" You say as you turn back around, facing your window and closing your eyes to fall asleep.

Nate doesn't quip back at you; he sits with what you said. His arm tightens around you and pulls you into him. As you fall asleep, Nate tries to come to terms with the fact that you find him untrustworthy. One way or another, he needs to make you his. It feels like he's drowning; he's in a shit marriage, married to a woman as a gay man, and his business is slowly losing money. Nate feels like he's drowning, and that you're like a breath of fresh air, giving him a break from life every second he spends with you. Slowly, Nate falls asleep, thoughts of divorcing Cassie, and doing anything to prove himself to you, running through his mind as he dozes off to the feeling of your warmth in his arms.

YO YO YO! The yaoi prohet, the gay gangsta, the male reader maniac has returned!!

That was cringe but highschool english taught me rule of three so i stick by it! Anyways I've officially finished my second year of University! Very fun but a lot of work; I also earned a role on a society (club) commitee so I was just real busy sorry guys. Also got a boyf and broke up with said boyf cause he was not for me lmfao so yeah busy busy!

Idk if I'll be writting often but it's still my only way of expressing creativity so I don't see myself fully stopping anytime soon yk

Anyways hope you enjoyed this fic cause wtaf is Euphoria becoming?

Three fuckin' years since that motel, hoodie of his around your frame and his hand on the wheel ending with you crawling over the gearstick to sit in his lap.

A lot had happened in those three years but Cook hadn't changed all that much, still that crooked grin and pale blue eyes that went mean quick, couldn't sit through a film without commentary and grabbed your arse in shop queues at any given chance.

But you'd changed, no longer the same one who'd stood barefoot in a kitchen reading six words on the back of a cig packet was long gone and what remained was something Cook had built without quite meaning to and he quite frankly loved it.

You wanted him constantly, not just in the way of being in love with someone, you'd been in love with him in that way years ago in his bedroom when he'd kissed your knuckles after a fight he'd had on your behalf.

This was different.

Your hand drifting to his thigh under tables in shitty cafés, fingers walking up the inseam of his jeans till his eyes flicked sideways.

Waking him up at three in the morning with your mouth already ‘round him because you couldn't sleep otherwise.

He definitely began noticing those changes.

Small gestures at first like him taking hold of your hand to place on top of his clothed cock in the back row of a near-empty cinema, pretending to watch some Bond rerun and totally expecting you to smack his hand away like usual.

It went with him hissing your name and trying to keep his hips still.

By the end of the film he had you bent over the seats two rows down, hand clapped over your mouth, joggers shoved to your knees, sliding into you slowly and purposely deep while the credits rolled.

"Cook—someone'll come in—"

"Yeah?" he'd breathed against your ear, all teeth. "An' who gives a shite."

The library next, the usual tiny one you'd go in to recover lost time in studying. He tagged along ‘cause he didn’t like the thought of you alone but boredom had soon build up

It was more of a joke when he asked, while you were still deep into reading the book in front of you, if ye were up t’ do somethin’ in here.

To his surprise, you'd led him into a stack of the history section nobody ever bothered with and undone his belt with your eyes locked to his, gone down on your knees on the carpet and taken him in your mouth right there between the shelves.

He'd had to bite down on his own forearm to keep quiet, fist tight in your hair, hips juddering forward into your throat and when he'd come, you'd swallowed every drop, loudly licking your lips before standing up, smiling sweet as anything and asked him if he was ready to go.

"Tha's me good lad, eh? Where the fuck did ye go?" He’d mutter, looking properly stunned, dragging a thumb across your bottom lip.

"Right here," you'd said.

The balcony was his favourite though since the flat had a tiny iron balcony off the bedroom enough for two people to stand on and look out over the back of the chippy and across the rooftops to that grey strip of sea.

One night, summer, you'd gone out there in nothing but a pair of his boxers and leaned over the railing on your forearms and called his name through the bedroom door softly.

"Cook. C'mere."

He'd come out with a cigarette in his teeth and joggers low along a beer can in his hand.

Took one look at you bent over the railing in his boxers with your back arched on purpose and the cigarette had nearly fallen out his mouth.

"Oh ye dirty fuckin' thing," he'd murmured, beer set down on the windowsill, smoking cig stubbed out in the ashtray. "Out here?"

"Why not?"

He'd come up behind you and dragged the boxers down your thighs before kicking your feet apart with the side of his boot. Two slick fingers from the lube he kept on the sill (because of course he kept lube on the sill now, that was the kind of household you ran) and then he'd been pushing in, palms flat over yours on the railing, mouth on the back of your neck and hips pistoning while you bit your lip to the point of tasting blood to keep from screaming.

Somewhere down on the street a bloke was shouting at his dog, gulls were going mental while you were getting fucked stupid above all of it, looking out at the sea.

When you'd come you'd seen white at the edges, knees gone as he'd held you up by the hips and kept fucking you through it.

"Tha's me good fuckin' boy, every fuckin' bastard down there could look up an' see ye gettin' it, see who ye belong to, yeah? Yeah? Bet ye'd let 'em an' all, dirty fuckin' little—"

"Yours," you'd choked, "yours, yours, only yours—"

"Damn fuckin' right."

You'd both laughed about it after, sitting on the bedroom floor with your back against the bed and his arm round your shoulders, sharing a bottle of warm beer and a cigarette he was rolling clumsy with one hand while joking together of the pair of degenerates you’ve become.

There were weeks where you couldn't keep your hands off each other and the flat smelled of sex morning till night, sheets getting changed twice in three days.

But your favourite game, the one you'd grown into proper, was getting Cook wound up on purpose.

The best kind of fuck you only got out of him were when he’s pissed off.

It was a hot Sunday, Cook had said in passing on Tuesday that there was a do at a pub his mate Tony was throwing for his birthday, nothing fancy, just drinks at the Anchor down the front along with music and food. “Would ye come along?”

You agreed and already started thinking by the time he'd kissed your forehead and gone back to his crossword.

When you both walked into the Anchor with your hand on his arm at half seven, Tony had already three pints in and shouting your names from the bar.

Cook got pulled into a one-armed hug and steered into a round before he could protest while you slipped sideways out from under his arm and went to get yourself a drink at the bar.

You could feel his eyes on you from across the room considering the attire you’ve chosen for tonight you knew he loved a lot with the way it clung to your frame perfectly.

The barman was a young lad you hadn't seen before, twenty maybe, broad shoulders, soft jaw, eyes that flicked up and stuck when you leaned an elbow on the bar.

"What can I get ye?"

"Pint of the cider, love."

"Comin' up." Eyes flicked again. "Haven't seen you in here before."

"My fella's mate's birthday."

"Ah." A little pause. "Lucky fella."

Smiling small at the wood of the bar while feeling a particular weight settling on the back of your neck.

"Cheers."

"On the house, that one."

"Yeah?"

"Tony said anyone here for him drinks free first round." A beat. "Or maybe it's just for you."

"Aw."

You took the pint and turned ‘round to spot Cook who hadn't moved from the group at the other end of the bar but he was watching, pint in his hand, expression that informed you of his back teeth grinding.

Raising the pint at him in a small toast, his mouth twitched in acknowledgement.

Through those hours he endured you standing too close to the new barman when you went up for refills, laughing too much at something Tony's brother said.

Suddenly you had gotten very close and touched Cook on the small of the back while talking to someone else before drifting your hand down to give the cheek of his arse a squeeze hidden by the press of bodies before slipping your hand into the back pocket of his jeans.

"Having fun?" you asked all innocence.

Ocean eyes fully on yours, half-lidded, mouth in a flat line.

"Loads."

"You don't look it."

"Mm." His free hand came up and curled round the back of your neck not exactly gentle.

"Ye keep this up," he murmured lowly, lips not quite at your ear, "an' I'm gonna stop bein' polite, pretty thing. Ye know tha'."

His thumb dragged slow up the side of your throat.

"Ye promise?" Smiling up at him, all teeth and his jaw worked before he let go and turned back to Tony, outside for a smoke.

You’ve stayed at the bar and the new barman was leaning on his elbows opposite you, having conversations while answering and laughing.

Cook just so happened to come back in through the side door at exactly that moment where your hand was on the barman’s biceps to test the size of them when he proudly told you that he went to the gym regularly.

A hand clamped on the back of your neck the very next moment.

"Babe," he said, calm in the way you knew meant the very opposite. "Word."

"I'm getting a drink."

"Yeah ye already had enough. Come on." His grip tightened and the barman's eyes flicked up and went a bit too fast down to the glass he was suddenly very busy polishing from sudden fear.

"Now, pretty thing."

You let yourself be turned and walked.

Lord only knows Cook wanted to smack that man’s face on the counter for the way his eyes scanned avidly every detail of your face just like how He did the first time you visited him in jail.

He didn't make a scene, though, because Cook had learned not to do such things in places like this anymore, he'd had three years of practice.

The hand that took your wrist didn't loosen all the way down the front to where the car sat at the kerb.

Tony shouted something cheerful after you two and Cook lifted his free hand in a wave without looking back.

He opened the passenger door and nudged you in with the flat of his hand on the small of your back, closed the door and walked round to get in the driver's side.

He sat there with both hands on the wheel and looked dead ahead at the chip wrappers blowing across the front, breathing in through his nose.

Two in and out.

The way he'd been working on when his temper rose while you observed his profile.

"Cook."

"Don't."

"I didn't do—"

"Don't, babe. Givvus a minute."

You leaned back in the seat, chewed the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling.

He'd see it in the dim from the streetlight if you let it slip and that was an escalation you didn't need yet.

Once he finally turned the key, the engine caught and he pulled away from the kerb smoothly, driving the seafront road, eyes ahead.

"Y' know," he said eventually, a muscle in his jaw going, "I were havin' a nice time… then me lad decides he's gonna be a cunt about it all night."

"I was being polite."

"Polite, aye," he repeated. "That what ye call it. Pretty thing."

You tucked one knee up on the seat, turned half toward him. "Don't be cross."

"Oh I'm a long way past cross, me. Crossed the line of cross hours ago ‘round about when y' let me see what clothes ye were comin’ with."

"You don’t like them?"

"Aye, I like ’em on ye in the bedroom or the sofa. I do not like ‘em on ye smilin' at some fuckin' barman like yer not mine."

"Are you jealous, Cook?" Flutter mode on, wide eyes and innocent look.

He scoffed, short and hard, knuckles on the wheel tightening. "Don't try tha' one."

"What?"

"I taught ye tha' one, mate, ye can't pull it on me."

"You did not teach me—"

"I absolutely taught ye tha'. Last winter wi’ tha' bloke at the post office I were tryin' to talk down."

You snorted before you could stop yourself but there was not even a twitch at the corner of his mouth.

He pulled the car off the seafront, up the back road that ran behind the chippy and parked in the alley.

"Out the car."

He came round and didn't take your arm this time, just walked behind you with one hand low on the small of your back, propelling you up the iron staircase at the back of the building to the flat door.

Keys out, door open and shut with his heel the second you both walked it and threw the keys in the bowl.

"Strip."

A small warm jolt went through you.

"Cook—"

"Don't fuckin' Cook me now. Reckon ye got off on every fuckin' second of those long hours in there, di'n't ye." His eyes dragged down you slowly. "Bet ye're hard right now."

You were and he saw it.

"Tha's wha' I thought. Off." His mouth moved into something that wasn't a smile.

You reached for the hem of the t-shirt slow.

"Faster."

Pulling it over your head and dropping it on the floor.

"Jeans."

Button and zip, pushing them down with the boxers and stepping out.

He came over slowly, one hand came up and trailed one knuckle from your collarbone down the centre of your chest, walking completely behind you then grabbing a cigarette from a pack on the table and lighting it up while you stayed pit with your back on him.

Smoke curled from behind you as the unbuckling of a belt came and a very pressure came from behind right on your arse, very heavy bulge right through his jeans throbbing into your naked arse and your own cock jumped in excitement as he gave small thrust forward and a low grunt rumbled from his chest.

Tentatively, one of your hand moved backward and landed on the muscular front of his right thigh still covered by his jeans while your other hand wrapped slowly around your dick, definitely expecting him to fuck you from behind at any moment.

Your wrists were lashed up suddenly, belt previously around his jeans now doubled and looped clever over them.

“Cook—“ a gasp of surprise from the sudden cold material that kept your hands above your head and locked, body getting pulled by him.

“Bedroom.” It was all he said while pulling your form and, by the time you were on the foot of it, he got in front and pushed you down on it, walking over to the side and knotting the belt with your hand to the slat of the headboard so neat you couldn't get a finger under it without skinning yourself.

Your ankles were the same, one to each corner of the bedframe, legs spread embarrassingly wide, no slack to close them.

He crawled over your frame and the heavy smell of tobacco and that shit body spray washed over you as he tied over your eyes one of his t-shirts, the grey frayed-collar one, folded thick and tied off at the back of your skull.

Every breath you pulled in through your nose, you breathed him.

"Comfy, pretty thing?"

Warm breath heavy with nicotine and alcohol washing over your face from above.

You tried to answer and what came out was a wet noise ‘round the thing he'd put in your mouth, two of his fingers earlier had pressed a folded bit of fabric in past your teeth, “keep tha' there fer me 'less I take it out an' if I take it out it's 'cause I wanna hear ye, not 'cause ye're done.”

The fucker.

"Mm?" You tried again in a whine this time.

"Aye, I bet ye are.” He sounded amused and the mattress dipped.

He was kneeling somewhere down between your spread thighs.

"Christ, babe." Quietly said. "Look at the fuckin' state of ye."

You whined again, low.

"Nah, nah. Not yet. Three hours ye gave me out there. We're a long way off three hours in 'ere yet."

A finger touched your knee and you jerked.

"Easy."

The finger trailed down the inside of your thigh.

He had three fricking years of inventory of your body, knew the path that turned the lights up as his finger reached the crease of your thigh and stopped.

You made an embarrassing noise as his digit went away but you didn't care.

"Shh."

His weight shifted, both hands on you now, palms flat on either side of your hips and his hot wet mouth settled on the dip between your hip and your stomach.

Your cock was already up against your stomach and had been up there since he'd tied the second knot at your ankle, leaking onto your skin in a slow steady drool and getting ignored entirely.

He moved his mouth a fraction to the side, hot breath on the same dead area and you made a sound that was meant to be his name.

"Wha' were tha', babe? Use yer words. Oh wait." A small low laugh. "Tha's right, ye can't."

Then his hands were on your inner thighs, callused and large palms sliding up slowly over the dip of your hipbones, up the sides of your ribs and over your chest, thumbs catching your nipples in passing and rubbing once and your back came up off the bed with a strangled noise.

"Oh." His thumbs went back, pressed and rolled.

The dark pink flesh had gone tight and erected.

His mouth closed over one and his teeth grazed, tongue flicking as he sucked and the noise you made ‘round the gag was muffled and broken.

Switching prey, he stayed there a long time on the other one and your stomach was juddering, cock hard enough to hurt, slapping flat to your abdomen, leaking steadily.

By the time he lifted his head off your chest you were already shaking.

"Aw, pretty thing." Soft, thumb tracing a line of spit off your nipple. "Ye're havin' a nice time so far?"

You nodded furious and his mouth was on your throat to take a bite right where he liked and making you wail into the gag as he sucked the bite.

He worked down your throat on both sides, across your collarbones and down the centre of your chest, in the line of dark hair he'd been growing out and trimming, his stubble dragging.

By the time his mouth reached your sternum your whole front half was a map of fresh hot bruises.

He skipped your cock entire, mouth brushing past the inside of your thigh and settling on the meat of your thigh to bite down and sucking dark.

"Mm." Pleased noise into your skin. "Tha's a good one. Tha'll be there a fer t’ night."

You were trying to roll your hips up into the drag of the duvet under your arse and you couldn't move much because of the rope.

Every attempted movement just made the rope bite your wrists and ankles.

When he finally touched your cock it was with one fingertip drawn light from base to tip and you came up off the bed as far as the rope let you with a noise meant to be pleased and a muffled scream.

"Easy. Easy, babe. There we go."

The fingertip lifted off.

"Nope, pretty thing. Not yet. Not anywhere near yet." He was almost laughing. "Three fuckin' hours ye made me sit there watchin' some fuckin' barman with 'is tongue out for ye an' ye bein' all sweet. Tha's a long bill, babe."

He lifted off the bed entirely and you heard him moving the drawer of the bedside cabinet, familiar rattle of the lid of that little jar of coconut oil he'd started using because the supermarket lube had given you a rash once and he wouldn't go back.

Lid off and wet sound of his fingers in it.

Two thick and oiled things pushed up into you in one smooth shove and you arched while he made a small dark pleased noise.

"Aye, tha's it. Open up fer me. Tha's me boy."

He worked you with two fingers without urgency at all, slow long strokes curling on the way out.

He knew where it was as he went near it and away repeatedly, finding it on a curl and giving you one perfect drag and your whole body would jerk before he'd pull out and reposition to miss it on purpose for ten strokes in a row.

Properly drooling ‘round the gag at the point three fingers went in and they found your prostate together, pressing and and holding.

White went off behind the blindfold as your cock jumped and a thick spurt of precome splattered onto your abdomen.

He pulled his fingers out right as you were on the verge to come, wailing as he left you empty and cold.

You were crying into the t-shirt over your eyes a bit by then, corners overspilling while he bent and kissed the corner of one closed eye through the fabric.

"Shh. Ye're a'right. Ye're doin' so well."

His mouth stayed there for a second before it went down your body again and he took you in slowly, all the way to the base, throat working ‘round you while there was no way of moving your hands or legs.

All you could do was buck up about an inch into the heat of his mouth before he pulled off, dragging his tongue up the underside to than clamp a hand round the base of your cock hard, thumb and finger ringing tight and squeezing.

The orgasm fizzled out of you in a sad twitch.

Two weak pulses against his fingers and nothing came, the denial of it ripped through your stomach as he held you like that till the urge faded back down.

Counted under his breath to thirty while you twitched and then he let go before his mouth went back on to repeat the process.

By the fourth time you weren't making words anymore but just one continuous broken sound through the gag, drool soaking the fabric in your mouth and the pillow under your head, t-shirt over your eyes a mess.

Your cock was so hard it was purple, swollen up thick and aching and so sensitive that the air on it was almost too much.

He was settled comfortably between your thighs, forearm across your hips to pin you down. The other hand idly stroking the inside of your thigh, knuckles drifting back and forth before he bit the inside of your thigh, making you jerk.

He shifted in his position, mattress shifted as the wet of his mouth left your thigh.

"Reckon ye've earned it."

His cock dragged along the underside of yours, slick and heavy. You hadn't felt him take his joggers off but he had, now bare against you, his thick cock laid along your length and he just rolled his hips lazy, shaft sliding over yours with the oil from his hand, pressing both your cocks together against your abdomen and the friction of it was the most you'd had in two hours yet it was nowhere fucking near enough.

You howled into the gag.

"Mm." He was breathing harder now, finally. "Christ, ye're a state."

The slow grinds kept coming, drag of his cock against yours while leaking too, hot and slippery, both of you smearing against your stomach.

He did it for a long time till you'd stopped making sound and were just breathing, ragged and broken, head turned to one side, jaw slack round the gag.

Then he stopped and sat back, blunt of him suddenly at your entrance.

You were so loose and slick from all the work he'd done with his fingers that he sank in halfway in one push, hot heavy fill as your back came up off the bed and a long broken vowel came out of your mouth.

He pushed the rest all the way to the base, hips flush and heavy balls pressed against your arse, buried to the hilt and held there a long time.

You could feel him pulsing inside you, his breath was uneven against your knee where he'd hooked your leg up over his arm, enjoying the way you fluttered all around him.

He bent forward, damn near folded you in half if the ropes would let him and his hands come up to your face, one thumb hooking the edge of the cloth in your mouth and easing it out, jaw aching open.

"Ye still wi' me, babe?"

You tried.

"…Cook—" Wrecked, voice nothing at this point and tongue clumsy.

"Aye. There 'e is."

His thumb wiped the drool off your chin.

"Tell me wha' ye need."

"Move. Please move. Please move, please, Cook, please—"

"Nice manners."

"Please please please—"

He moved slowly all the way out till just the head was caught, sliding then back in.

You were so sensitive and worked over that you could feel every individual ridge of him going past, the thick swell of the head, heavy length and press of his abs against the back of your thighs when he was into the root.

He did it again and again while you'd been at the brink for so long that even slow thrusts were enough to push you up the cliff, cock twitching against your stomach and sounds rising in your throat as he slowed the second he saw it right down to nothing, hips barely moving.

"No—Cook—no—"

"Shh."

"Please, please please please, Cook please, I can't—"

"Aye ye can. Ye can do it fer me. Ye said ye could do anythin' I asked, years ago in tha' shitty fuckin' room. Ye remember tha'."

"Yes—yes—"

"This is wha' I want ye t’ fuckin' do."

He held himself buried, hips pressed flush, a slow tiny rocking that wasn't enough to push you over but kept you right there at the edge.

"Pretty fuckin' thing." Almost reverent. "Look at ye… made fer this."

He pulled out slow and, as you opened your mouth to beg again, he changed.

Taking your second leg in his other arm and hooking it up too, took your full weight onto the bend of his elbows and his hands at your hips as he started fucking you properly hard.

The thump of his hips against your arse the only sound for a second, followed by a low grunt with every drive in and the broken noises out of the broken mess he had below.

He was hitting your prostate with every stroke dead centre and the cliff you'd been hanging off for two hours rushed up as you came untouched.

You came with hands tied above your head, ankles tied wide and his cock buried to the root inside you cock pulsing thick white over your abdomen in long ropes, splashing up your chest and onto your throat, the rope at your wrists and at your ankles going taut.

He fucked you straight through it, no stopping or slowing down but still hard steady drives and your come painted up your stomach was getting smeared and pushed by the press of his abs against you on every thrust while he was grunting low in your ear after he'd folded down over you again.

"Tha's one," he said into your jaw. "Tha's one fer the three hours."

"Cook, oh god, Cook, please, can't—"

"Aye ye can." He sat up again and never ceased the brutal way he approached to fuck you.

Even worse he took one hand off your hip and wrapped it round your cock.

Right after coming, his hand on you was searing and he didn't go gentle but he stroked you in time with his thrusts, slick from your own come, slow firm pulls and your hips were trying to twist away from him to not avail because of the rope and his cock buried deep and linking you to him.

Cock of your own hardening back up under his hand inside a minute because you were so far gone you didn't know up from down anymore.

"There 'e fuckin' goes."

Pace picked up and the bed was knocking against the wall.

Fella in the chippy downstairs would be definitely staring at his ceiling but none of you cared.

You came again, a weak shuddering pulse over his fist, dribbling down his fingers, cock twitching pathetic in his grip and your whole body going slack and then bowing up, sob that came out of you was completely broken as he kept plugging your hole with his large member.

"One more, pretty thing."

"I can't—"

"Ye can. One more. Ye're gonna come wi' me, I know ye can."

His hand left your cock to pull the t-shirt off your eyes.

The light hit and you blinked stupid into it before your sight focused on the sight above.

Stubble shining with sweat, dark hair stuck flat to his forehead and pale blue eyes black with huge pupils, mouth open and lips swollen pink.

Each layer of muscles he built was moving as his hips drove down into you and his stomach tightened, V of his hipbones cut clean above where his thick cock was disappearing into you over and over and over.

He looked wrecked but also like the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen.

His eyes locked onto yours and held.

"There 'e is," he breathed. "There's me lad."

"Cook—"

"Eyes on me, pretty thing. Don't lose me."

"Yours…"

"Aye. Mine. Say it."

"Yours, only yours, Cook—"

His pace went sloppy, control dropping the constant hammering, abs slapping against your spent cock somehow stirring against him a third time because you were that far gone.

"Babe—" wrecked, "babe, gonna— gonna fill ye up, wanna mark ye proper every fuckin' inch of ye."

"Yes—yes—yes, please—"

He pushed in deep and held as he came.

Hot and immense flood of it expanded everywhere as you felt his cock jump inside you and he was groaning long and low with his forehead pressed to your sternum, hands fisted in the duvet either side of your head.

He held himself there for a long time before lifting his head and looking at you before reaching up and undoing the rope at your wrists.

Your arms came down slack as he caught one and kissed the inside of the wrist where the rope had reddened it before freeing the other one.

He undid your ankles next, one by one, kissed and massaged each one a second all while staying seated inside, plug of him keeping his come held in deep as he lowered himself down onto your chest and let his weight settle.

Your arms came up shaking to go ‘round his sturdy back.

Neither of you spoke for a long time as his and your breathing slowed.

"Pretty thing," he muttered, eventually, mouth at your temple. "Did you really plan all tha’ stuff t’ get on me?"

A small huff against your skin. "Yeah"

"Bastard."

"Mm."

You laughed croaked, throat a wreck as he joined in laughter too into your hair.

"Y' alright?"

"…Yeah."

"Good." His thumb stroked your jaw. "'Cause we've got the rest of the night, babe an' I'm not anywhere near done wi' ye."

One morning you woke up and found the side of the bed empty, sheets cold in the shape of where he should’ve been.

No note or half-arsed scribble on the back of a receipt, not even some stupid fuckin’ emoji he still didn’t know how to use properly.

His tank top was still slung over the back of the chair, grey one with the frayed collar he’d worn the night before when he’d dragged you into his lap on the sofa and whispered how good you smelled right after taking an exaggerated inhale.

Beer can still on the counter, sweating a ring into the wood. His boots were gone though and that was the tell.

You stood barefoot on the cold tile of the kitchen for a long time before you found the cigarette pack on the table, empty except for one.

Tucked inside, folded small there was a scrap of paper with six words in his rough, slanted hand.

Don’t look fer me. Stay safe.

That was everything he left you.

Louie’s name had been hovering round the edges for weeks. You’d caught it in the way Cook’s jaw ticked when his burner buzzed or those nights he came back with split knuckles and wouldn’t say where he’d been.

The way his eyes kept flicking to the street when you walked together was a clue in itself.

“S’nothin’,” he’d mutter, pulling you into his side, lips pressed hard into your hair. “S’nothin’, babe, jus’ work bollocks, yeah? Don’t you worry ‘bout it.”

The first week you waited, sat on the sofa with the telly off, listening for a key in the lock. Wore his hoodie ‘round the flat because it still smelled like cheap tobacco and that shitty body spray he used too much of.

The second week you started ringing numbers.

Old contacts like that one bloke Freddie who’d answered once and gone quiet and said ‘mate, I ain’t seen him, an’ if you’re smart you’ll stop fuckin’ askin’.’

A girl called Effy who picked up twice and laughed soft and sad down the line and said ‘James does what James does. Don’t go chasin’ storms, love.’

That’s what you did anyway.

Third week you stopped eating properly, fourth week you barely got any sleep.

By the fifth you were catching yourself staring at strangers’ backs on the street, convinced from the shoulders that it was him.

Tried to get back to the study place, sat with your books open and read the same paragraph six times in a row.

Not a single word was taken by your brain.

Food tasted of nothing, sleep came in snatches, full of that laugh of his and crooked grin whispering one of his many dirty compliments and you’d wake up reaching across the mattress and find only cold sheet and a pillow that didn’t smell of him anymore no matter how hard you pressed your face into it.

Two months of that before you gave up pretending.

The life he’d asked you to stay safe in was no life at all without him in it.

You packed light.

One rucksack, a change of clothes and that jockstrap, stupid and sentimental, shoved down the bottom because you couldn’t bring yourself to leave it behind.

All along a roll of cash you’d been skimming off your wages for weeks without really admitting to yourself why, cheap knife you didn’t know how to use but bought anyway from a bloke behind a petrol station who didn’t ask questions.

The first lead of some name Freddie had let slip in a moment of weakness took you north to a pub in a shit part of town where Cook used to run gear.

Showing up there on a Tuesday night and asked the wrong person the wrong question and got dragged out back by two man who wanted to know who the fuck you were and who sent you.

Coming out of that alley with a split lip, a ringing ear and an address on a napkin that had been empty for weeks after your idiot of a boyfriend had done a runner, as said by the landlord.

Every lead peeled open another the more you kept asking, hollow eyes and a bruise fading on your jaw while asking after a fugitive.

Growing careful over time, you stopped giving his name, going for descriptions of him instead.

It was very beneficial learning how to buy a man a pint and wait for him to loosen up before you nudged the conversation where you needed it to go.

Got robbed once and had gotten into a fight as well, properly, in a car park behind a nightclub in Leeds, when a bloke cornered you for looking at him funny and you were so tired and so fuckin’ empty that you didn’t even duck the first swing, just took it across the cheekbone and swung back with everything you had.

Came out of that one with a blown lip and knuckles shredded red.

Cook did Louie in a warehouse off the docks in Bristol on a Thursday night in the pissing rain.

He didn’t plan it, went in with his fists and a bottle and that red thing behind his eyes that he’d been feeding for two months straight on every sleepless night and every fuckin’ time he’d closed his eyes and seen your face looking up at him confused in that kitchen he’d left you in.

When it was done, Cook stood over him with his chest heaving and his hands wet.

Washing his hands in a petrol station sink and burned his jacket in a bin round the back.

Bought a pay-as-you-go from a corner shop with a fiver left over from a job he’d done a fortnight back and he stood outside under the awning with the thing in his palm and stared at the keypad for a full ten minutes before he admitted to himself that he didn’t know your number off by heart.

It’d always just been ‘babe’ in his old phone he’d chucked in a canal the night he left.

Fuck.

He went to the flat first, standing on the street outside and looking up at the window with his hood pulled low, rain running off it into his collar, cigarette burning down between his fingers forgotten.

Round the back, up the fire escape, in through that dodgy window with the busted latch he’d always meant to fix for you and never had.

The flat was empty but cleared out proper, still your things scattered about, books stacked on the table, mug in the sink with a crust of tea dried brown in the bottom and your good coat was gone from the hook by the door, same for the rucksack he’d bought you last birthday no longer under the bed where you always kept it.

He sank down onto the edge of the mattress with his hands hanging between his knees and stared at the floor for a long time.

“You stupid fuckin’ lad,” he muttered eventually, and it wasn’t clear whether he meant you or himself.

The pillow still had a shadow of your smell in it as he pressed his face there and breathed in deep until his ribs hurt and his eyes stung.

Then he went looking.

He was better at it than you were with how he knew the underside of the country and which pubs answered questions.

Chasing someone who’d never run in these circles before and didn’t know the rules.

He found a barmaid in Manchester who remembered a lad with a fading black eye asking after a Bristol voice who drank half a coke and left. Cook put a tenner on the bar and asked where the lad had gone next and she shrugged and said ‘how the fuck would I know,’ to which he smiled tight and said fair enough before going outside and kicking a bin so hard the side caved in, later sat in his car and gripped the steering wheel till his knuckles went white.

Both of you were moving and somehow, every time he got close the trail went cold.

He started drinking worse and picking fights with the kind of blokes he’d normally walk round. Came out of a scrap in Birmingham with his lip split down to the chin and three ribs that grated against each other every time he breathed.

“Where are you, babe,” he muttered at the ceiling while laying on the floor of the bedsit. “Where are you?”

You’d heard a whisper of a bloke in a pool hall in Coventry, playing cash games with his sleeves rolled up, said he reckoned Cook had been seen heading down the A roads towards the coast, Somethin’ about a lad he’s lookin’ for. Mad bastard offered a grand to anyone who’d seen him.

Immediately leaving Coventry that same night on a coach with the last of your cash, you’d got off at some nothing town twenty miles inland from the sea because the coach didn’t go further and you’d walked the last stretch along the verge in the dark with your rucksack digging a bruise into your shoulder.

There was blood on the front of your shirt, not yours this time, from a scrap in an alley earlier that same day when a pair of guys your age had tried to lift your bag and you’d fought back because there was nothing left in it to lose anyway and fighting was easier than running when your legs were this tired.

The motel sign flickered in the distance, vacancy in pink neon with the V gone out so it just read ’acancy’. You laughed at that under your breath, just like how Cook would have done.

James got there forty minutes before you did.

He’d had a lead of his own, a different thread in the same tangle. Some lad at a service station had described someone matching your build paying cash for a coach ticket heading this direction. Cook had tipped the lad a fifty he couldn’t spare and broken every speed limit between there and the coast in a borrowed car.

The motel was the nearest kip to where the coach route ended.

It was a guess like the many he made in the last three months and most of them had been wrong.

He pulled into the car park, killed the engine, sat with his hands on the wheel for a second and tried to steady his breathing.

Eye half shut from a ruck two nights back, cheekbone scraped where a bloke’s ring had caught him, knuckles split open and half-healed and split open again. Stubble grown out into a proper patchy beard, hair flattened under his hood.

He got a room off the old man at reception without making eye contact, paid in crumpled notes, took the key with the plastic tag that read 14 and walked along the concrete balcony with his boots echoing quietly on the walkway.

Number 14 was the second to last. He slid the key in the lock, twisted it and the mechanism was stiff, exactly the way cheap motel locks always were and he had to jiggle the thing while swearing profoundly under his breath.

A footstep behind him which he heard the same way everything was for him these days, half-alert and numb.

Lad’s light footstep followed by the click of another door being approached right next to him.

The hair on the back of his neck went up as he turned slow and found you at the door of 15 with your key already raised.

You’d turned your head at the same moment, drawn by the same instinct, as under the shit yellow bulb of the motel walkway the pair of you looked at each other.

Nothing for long seconds before your key clattered out of your hand and hit the concrete.

“…babe,” Cook said, voice wrecked while taking in everything on your handsome face between the swollen cheek and that split on your lip.

There was dried blood crusted down the collar of your shirt and a bruise ‘round your left eye and he took one step followed by another before both of his warm palms were on either side of your face, rough and shaking, thumbs pressed lightly below the swelling.

“Babe,” he said again and his voice cracked on the word this time, breaking clean down the middle.

Your knees went and he caught you, arms under yours, hauling you up against his chest as you pressed your face into the wet shoulder of his hoodie.

“You fuckin’ idiot…” he choked and it came out with a half-laugh that wasn’t really a laugh, “you fuckin’—I told you t’ stay safe—”

“I couldn’t,” you managed, muffled against his throat. “Cook. I tried, I couldn’t—”

“I know.” His hand fisted tight in your hair and then went gentle, smoothing, fisted tight again. “I know, babe. I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”

He pulled back just enough to look at your face and his own face in the yellow light was something you’d think about for the rest of your life. Eyes red-rimmed with those pale blue eyes shining.

His thumb traced the bruise on your cheekbone so softly you barely felt it.

“Who did this,” he said and it wasn’t a question, voice gone flat and cold. “Who the fuck did this. I’ll fuckin’ kill ‘em sweat t—”

“Cook.” You caught his wrist. “Don’t. He’s not— he’s not anywhere, it was miles back, doesn’t matter now.”

“It fuckin’ matters—”

“You matter to me now.”

He stopped talking, eyes closing and forehead dropping forward till it pressed against yours.

“Louie’s done,” he said eventually into the space between your mouths. “S’all done. Ain’t no one lookin’ fer you now, babe. S’jus’ me an’ you. A’right?”

You nodded against his forehead, not trusting your voice.

“Said I’d come back,” he muttered and you hadn’t said he’d said that, he’d left you a note that said don’t look for me, but you didn’t correct him now.

“Yeah,” you whispered.

He huffed a sound that was meant to be a laugh but came out closer to a sob. He covered it quick, ducking his face into the crook of your neck and breathing you in there where the blood had crusted on your collar.

“Smell like shit,” he muttered into your skin.

“You’re one to talk.”

A real laugh rough against your pulse and his arms tightened round you while yours came up round his back.

The key was still on the concrete at your feet while his was in the lock of door 14, that old man at reception was probably watching the pair of you on his little grainy CCTV and wondering whether to ring someone but neither of you gave a fuck.

“Come ‘ere,” Cook said eventually, pulling back just enough to get an arm round your shoulders. He bent and scooped your key up off the floor and pressed it into your palm and closed your fingers round it and held your closed hand in his. “Come inside, yeah? ‘Fore you fall over proper.”

He fumbled his own key back out of the lock of 14 and crossed the two steps to the door of 15 and let you in under his arm.

Shitty room with a bedspread that had seen things, telly on a bracket in the corner that probably didn’t work and windows that looked out onto the car park where his borrowed car sat ticking as it cooled.

He kicked the door shut behind the pair of you and slid the chain across before standing there for a second with his hand flat on the wood and his forehead pressed to it.

Then he turned and his eyes went over you proper up and down as you sat on the bed, elbows on each of your knees.

He crouched in front of you on the brown carpet with his hands braced over yours and he looked up at you from there with those pale blue eyes of his, stubble on his jaw catching the lamplight, split in his own lip still wet but the corners lifting in a small smile.

“I ain’t lettin’ you out me sight again. You’re stuck wi’ me now, pretty thing. Ye understand?”

And you looked down at the wreck of his face, thinking about the empty flat and the cold sheets along the note in the cigarette pack now in your rucksack on the floor by the door.

“Got it.”

His jaw worked, hand coming up to cup the side of your face, thumb under the bruise again and he leaned up off his knees and pressed his forehead against yours, breathing with you, sharing the same small square of air in the same shit motel room while the neon sign outside buzzed and flickered through the curtain.

“Yeah,” he said, hoarse. “Yeah. A’right.

Eventually he shifted, knees creaking on the brown carpet, hand sliding from your face down to your shoulder and squeezing before tipping his chin at the bathroom door.

“Piss, wash, whatever ye need,” he muttered, voice hoarse and quiet, not moving from where he was. “Then get in bed, a’right?”

“You’re not much better,” you said.

His mouth twitched into a crooked grin. “Yeah, well. Pair of us, innit.”

Bathroom light a sick green and the mirror over the sink was cracked down one corner as you ran the tap and splashed cold water over your face, watching pink wash off your jaw and spiral down the plughole.

Peeling the shirt off carefully there was blood on the inside of it, dried brown in patches and you left it balled on the tiles because you never wanted to wear it again.

When you came out in just your jeans, Cook had got his hoodie off and his boots kicked into the corner while sitting on the edge of the mattress in that frayed tank top, elbows on his knees and head hanging. He looked up when the bathroom door opened and his eyes did that thing where they snagged and stuck.

“What?”

“…Nothin’. C’mere babe.”

He pulled the shitty bedspread back with one rough tug, baring sheets that smelled of cheap detergent and he climbed up onto the mattress first, shuffled back till his shoulders hit the headboard before his arm out while you crawled up after him.

Jeans and all, neither of you had it in you to do anything more complicated than this and you fit yourself down his side and laid your head on his chest right where the heavy slope of his pec pushed up against the thin cotton of his tank.

His heart was going steady under your ear and you closed your eyes and all the air went out of you in one long shake.

His arm came down round your shoulders and locked you in.

You woke up to light pushing pink through the curtain and a clock on the bedside cabinet that read 1:04 in red digital numbers.

Cook was still underneath you because that was the first thing your brain caught onto.

He’s still here.

At some point in the sleep the pair of you had got closer, your leg was hooked over his thigh while a hand was fisted loose in the hem of his tank top. His arm was still round your shoulders but the other hand had come up and settled on your hip under the covers, fingers splayed wide and warm against bare skin where your jeans had ridden low.

You turned your face up to look at him and found him already awake, lashes low, pale eyes glinting through, mouth parted a little with stubble dark on his jaw, hair a proper mess from the pillow.

He had been watching you for a while probably and the second your eyes met his, the corner of his mouth dragged up lazy and crooked.

“Mornin’,” he muttered, voice wrecked with sleep into a gravel rasp. “Afternoon, more like.”

“Hi,” you said.

It came out stupid and soft and he laughed under his breath at that, a puff through his nose as his hand slid up your side under the covers and you winced when his thumb hit a bruise and his face tightened immediately.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “Sorry, babe. Sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

“Hurts?”

“Not really.”

“Liar.”

You smiled against his chest and he made a low sound in his throat.

He kissed you, just a press of his mouth to yours at first, the split in his lip stung as it met the split in yours but you didn’t care, pushing up into it and he made a low rough sound into your mouth as the whole thing changed shape.

His hand slid round to the back of your skull and fisted in your hair, tongue pushing in hot and hungry as your mouth opened for it without a thought and he groaned, noise from the chest under your cheek before he rolled half onto his side so he could get at you properly.

“Fuck,” he breathed against your mouth, “fuck, missed this, missed you, missed—”

You couldn’t answer because his tongue was back in, licking hot and wet into your mouth while devouring and your hand came up into his hair to hold him close and kissed him back with everything you’d been carrying round with you for three months.

The kiss got messy fast, spit and his stubble burned your chin, low grunts kept rolling out of his throat between the kisses and he pulled you half on top of him, one of his heavy thighs shoving up between yours as you felt him against your leg immediately.

Morning wood thick and straining the front of his boxers through the thin fabric of his joggers while your own cock was already up and hard in your jeans from the first proper kiss, pressed against the meat of his thigh where he’d shoved it between your legs and you rolled your hip down into it without thinking making him hiss into your mouth.

“Oi—” he muttered, laughing breathless, “fuckin’ hell, pretty thing.”

Your hand slid down to cup him through the joggers, fingers curling round the large shape of him and he bucked up into your hand, teeth caught your lower lip and dragged while your own dick grounded against his thigh insistently until he suddenly laughed again, head tipping back into the pillow.

“What?” You pulled back to look at him, smiling stupid.

“Nothin’.” He was grinning up at the ceiling, hand not leaving your hair. “Jus’—”

“What?”

He rolled his head towards you, eyes half lidded, grin crooked. “Paid tha’ old prick at reception fer the one night, di’n’t I. Should’ve been out this mornin’ hours ago. Old bastard’ll be buzzin’ round any minute wantin’ ‘is room back.”

You snorted against his shoulder.

The old you of two years ago before meeting your idiot of a fugitive boyfriend would’ve sat up fast and started pulling clothes tight away.

Now, this new version of you bruised and with your hand on his cock through a pair of cheap joggers in a motel, just grinned against Cook’s collarbone.

“Doesn’t matter. Might as well enjoy the shitty room for what it’s worth.”

He went very still for a second before breathing out a laugh through his nose, darker and pleased, hand tightening in your hair till your scalp sang as he tipped your face up to his.

“Tha’s me boy,” he muttered huskily.

His mouth brushed yours, hot breath puffing on your face.

“How ‘bout this, then,” his voice had dropped into that rough low register that still did things to you in the jail classroom years ago, that still did things to you now. “How‘bout me an’ you make a proper fuckin’ mess in ‘ere, yeah? I wanna fuck ye all over this shitty little room and when we’re done we grab our shit an’ we run together. How ‘bout tha’?”

Your cock twitched hard against his thigh shamelessly, making his grin went wide and wolfish.

One arm scooped round your waist and dragged you up off his chest, coming up onto his knees on the mattress and then his hands were at your jeans, yanking at the button with those rough calloused fingers of his while his mouth was on your throat, teeth right on your pulse.

“Up,” he muttered against your skin, “up, c’mon—” and he was dragging you up off the bed by the waistband, hauling you to your feet on the shitty brown carpet as his mouth was back on yours and walking you backwards across the room, feet tangling, jeans shoved down your knees halfway, both of you staggering and laughing into each other’s mouths.

When the back of your thighs hit the edge of the cheap little desk under the window you barely registered it.

One big hand swept across the top of the desk without even looking. The motel kettle, little card with WiFi info and a glass ashtray along leaflets about local attractions all went crashing off onto the carpet.

His hands went to your hips and lifted, your arse hitting the edge of the desk. He stepped between your open knees and crowded you there, chest bare now, tank top gone somewhere behind him as you finally got a proper look at him in the daylight.

Three months on the road made him lose a bit of the softness at his waist that had only sharpened everything else between his broad and heavy chest, pecs cut clean with faint dark hair running down the centre and trailing in a line over his stomach, abs showing harder.

There was a livid purple mark wrapping round his bicep where someone had grabbed him hard.

Then he shoved forward and his hips slotted between your thighs, letting you feel him against you through what was left of his joggers, thick and heavy ad he dragged his bulge along the front of your jeans.

“Missed that?” he breathed, grinning filthy. “Missed me, yeah?“

“Cook—”

“Say it.”

“Cook, please—”

“Say it, pretty thing. Wanna fuckin’ hear it.”

“Missed you,” you got out, voice cracking, “missed you, missed it, missed—” and he shut you up by crushing his mouth back onto yours.

The jeans came off next as he yanked them down your legs with the boxers still inside and got them over your feet before throwing them somewhere and put both hands flat on your chest to shove you back down against the desk.

Now, completely naked on a motel room desk in the middle of the afternoon, Cook was looming over you with his chest heaving.

His joggers and boxers went down his hips in one rough shove, cock sprang up heavy against his abdomen, flushed dark at the head with a slick bead of precome already sat fat at the slit while you stared avidly at the whole thing.

“Bet ye thought about him a lot, didn’t ye. All them nights.” He said and you nodded.

“Dirty fuckin’ thing,” he breathed delighted as he bent over you. One forearm planted flat on the desk beside your head, caging you under him while the other hand dragged slow and possessive down the centre of your chest, palm spreading wide over your stomach while a thumb brushed the head of your cock where it lay leaking against your abdomen.

“Shh,” he muttered, “shh, we got time, pretty thing, we got all the time now—”

He leaned down and his mouth was on your throat, traveling down your collarbone, teeth scraping as a proper bite landed just under your collarbone, hard enough you gasped and when he pulled back there was a red print of his teeth in your skin he admired it for a second before his mouth went to the other side and did it again, goal in mind to replace the ugly things scattered on your body.

Bites and sucks that made dark little bruises bloom one after another, one under your nipple that caused you swear out loud, another on the soft inside of your bicep where you hadn’t even known you were sensitive.

There was one also low on your belly right above where he was still not touching you properly and by the time he’d worked his way down and back up your whole torso was a mess of red and purple, shaking on the desk with your cock leaking onto your own stomach.

“Look at ye,” he muttered, chin propped on your sternum before his mouth was on yours again in a wet and messy crash.

He got two fingers into his own mouth then, sucked them slick while his other hand ducked into the jean pocket on the floor and came up with a tiny crumpled tube he must’ve had on him since god knew when.

Slicking up quick because neither of you had the patience for anything elaborate, fingers pressing into you right there on the desk, one then two, scissoring rough as you arched up off the laminate and swore.

“Yeah,” he breathed, watching your face, “yeah, tha’s it, open up fer me, babe, fuck, still so fuckin’ tight—”

“James quick—“ He worked you open fast, rougher than he had that first night on his bed all those months ago and you didn’t want gentle but wanted him now.

When he pulled his fingers out you whined and he laughed at you, husky.

“Greedy,” he muttered right before lining up, large crowd pressed in and you felt the stretch begin as your whole body lit up.

“Fuuuck—” both you and him groaned as he pushed in, slow but steady, one long unbroken slide till his hips were flush to the backs of your thighs and his heavy balls were pressed up against your ass when he was buried to the hilt in one go.

It had been so long since you felt how big he has always been and it was almost too much considering the way you went from getting used to it everyday to none for way too much time.

The drag and thickness of it as your body stretched to take him and you clutched at his forearm on the desk beside your head, moaning loud enough the neighbours would’ve heard if there were any.

“There he is,” Cook breathed, pleased and mean, “there’s me good fuckin’ boy.”

He didn’t hold still this time like the first time, pulling back and shoving back in, making the desk shunt an inch under you and he grinned down with his teeth showing while doing it again and again.

By the fourth thrust he had a rhythm going and the desk was banging the wall while your back was sliding on the laminate, cock was bouncing up against your abdomen with every stroke.

“Fuck—Cook—”

“Yeah,” he panted, “say it, say my name, say it—”

“Cook, Cook—”

“Louder.”

Screaming it louder, anything he wanted, he laughed breathlessly and his grip on your hip tightened as his pace picked up and the whole desk was rocking now, window behind you rattling faintly in its cheap frame.

He hit your prostate on a deep stroke and your whole body jerked, erect cock leaking a fresh string onto his abs.

Upon proudly noticing this, he adjusted the angle, hand under your thigh hoisting it higher on his hip as he hit it again on purpose.

“Needy little thin’,” he breathed, “fuckin’ missed this, didn’ ye, bet ye couldn’ get yerself off proper without me, bet ye tried with yer own fingers an’ it weren’t the same.”

“Wasn’t,” you choked out, “wasn’t the same, wasn’t—”

“Nah.” His voice had gone hoarse, gravel, desperate. “Course it weren’t. Jus’ me, yeah?”

“Only you—”

He lost his rhythm for a second at that and he leaned down to crush his mouth to yours while he fucked you harder, messy and graceless, spit smearing between your mouths, stubble burning your chin. One of his hands got between you and wrapped round your cock and pumped it in time with his thrusts, arching up off the desk with a broken sound, spilling hot and thick over his knuckles and your own abdomen and across one of the bruises he’d left earlier.

He didn’t stop or slow, letting you ride through it while he kept fucking you and, as you started to come down, he pulled out suddenly and hauled you up off the desk.

Your legs nearly gave but he caught you, one arm round your waist before he spun you ‘round without a word and bent you forward over the desk instead, palms flat on the laminate, your cheek pressed to the cold surface, cock twitching sore between your legs.

“Ain’t done wi’ ye yet,” he muttered into the back of your neck right before he was pushing back in.

The second time in was different ad you were already loose and fucked open and he slid in easy all the way with one long wet push, your toes curled against the carpet and you whimpered, oversensitive already, as he draped himself over your back and his chest was hot against your shoulderblades.

“Shh,” he breathed, “shh, tha’s it, take it, take it fer me, ye can do it, me good fuckin’ boy, can’t ye—”

“Cook—it’s—”

“I know,” he said, “I know, babe, I know it’s a lot, but ye can do it, yeah? Fer me?”

You nodded into your own arm on the desk. Of course you nodded. You’d have said yes to anything he asked, bent forward over cheap motel furniture with him draped over your back and his cock buried to the hilt inside again.

He started to move again, slower but much deeper this time, rolling his hips into you in these long strokes that hit right where he’d found the spot earlier and you were making wrecked helpless noises into the crook of your own arm, joined by the throaty and low grunts he was making right against your ear.

Every time he sank in he’d grunt quiet and suck in a breath through his teeth right after pulling out, leaving only the fat tip in.

“Tell me ye love me.”

You stilled for half a breath.

He’d never asked that outright.

“Tell me.” His forehead dropped against the back of your neck and his voice was ragged while his hips never ceased to move. “Go on. Fuckin’ say it.”

“I love you,” you said, and it came out soft and ruined and true. “I love you, Cook. I love you.”

He made a noise and his whole body tightened over you, pace broke into something less controlled, desk knocking hard against the wall now.

“Love you,” he said back, rough, like he’d never said it before, like it hurt coming out, “love you, love you, fuck, love you—”

He picked you up again halfway through, Christ only knows how he had the strength left. He pulled out and spun you round as your back hit the wall next to the desk with a thud that knocked a framed print off its hook onto the carpet and he hooked your thighs up round his hips right before pressing back inside you standing, your whole weight held between his grip and the wall as he fucked you there with his face buried in your throat and his teeth leaving fresh marks down the side of your neck.

He was stroking you between your bodies with one hand while he held you up with the other and the overstimulation had you sobbing against his shoulder as your second orgasm crashed through you nearly dry, a weak pulse of come over his fist as you were left whimpering nonsense into his ear, ”Cook, Cook, please, please, more, don’t stop, please—“

“I got ye,” he was saying, strained, close, “I got ye, pretty thing, I wanna fill ye up… yeah, gonna mark ye proper—”

He came inside you this time, held himself deep and shuddered with a groan muffled by the skin of your throat as you felt the heavy heat of it flood into you, thick cock of him pulsing inside you as he emptied and his arms locked round your thighs so tight you thought you’d bruise but you didn’t care.

Wanted the bruises along every mark he could put on your body.

He held you pinned to the wall with his forehead against yours, panting heavily as his softening cock stayed still lodged inside you with his come sealed up behind it.

Soon after some much needed minutes to recover, he was easing you down onto trembling legs when the knock came at the door.

“Oi, lads, checkout were midday, y’ still in there?” Three hard raps followed by a reedy old voice.

Both you and Cook looked at each other before bursting into laughter, breathless and silent first, shaking through your chests, before getting properly out loud, and he had to clap a hand over his own mouth while his shoulders shook.

All of this occurred as he was still fully inside you with his come running warm down your thigh and the room looking like a bomb had gone off in it.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he wheezed, “fuckin’ hell, babe—”

“Hey!” The knock came again, harder.

“Yeah, yeah, a’right, mate, givvus a fuckin’ minute!” Cook shouted back, mock-cheerful. Then, under his breath to you, grinning wild. “Move, move, move—”

You’d never got dressed so fast in your life, jeans half buttoned, shirt not your own because that one was bloody on the bathroom tiles so you grabbed Cook’s hoodie off the carpet and yanked it over your head, rucksack scooped off the floor, Cook hopping on one foot getting into his joggers, tank top balled in his hand, boots scooped up by the laces, keys jammed in his teeth.

He stopped at the door for a second before looking back at you in his hoodie that came down to your thighs, hair a state and mouth swollen pink with a throat below ‘ruined’ by bite marks peeking above the collar, your legs unsteady.

His grin went crooked and smug.

“Ye sure ye can run, pretty thing?” he muttered, husky, eyes sparkling. “I didn’t go tha’ easy on ye ‘fter all.”

You shouldered your rucksack and gave him a look up that the you from two years ago wouldn’t have recognised.

“You might be big,” you said, quiet, smiling, “but I can still do anything you want me to, Cook.”

He huffed a laugh of surprise at your words, pupils blowing wide as his mouth opened and his hand tightened on the door handle till the knuckles went white.

“Lads! I’m comin’ in with the key if ye don’t—“ Another knock and Cook yanked the door open.

The old bloke had time to register a flash of pale blue eyes and a grin with too many teeth before Cook’s fist connected with the side of his jaw hard enough to sit him down with his arse on the concrete walkway and his dentures skewed.

“Cheers fer the room, boss!” Cook shouted cheerfully over his shoulder, and then he grabbed your hand as the pair of you were ran off.

Down the walkway, boots slapping concrete, Cook still holding his own boots in his free hand laughing loudly and joined by you laughing too, hoodie flapping ‘round your thighs, motel sign flickering ’acancy’ above you, down the metal stairs two at a time, across the gravel of the car park while the old man shouted something incoherent and outraged behind.

Cook was fumbling the keys out of his teeth and unlocking the driver’s side before shoving you in across the gearstick and slamming his own door.

The engine coughed to life before you were even properly in your seat, tyres bit tarmac and the motel shrank in the wing mirror.

Cook was howling with laughter with both hands on the wheel, head thrown back and wide broken-toothed grin splitting his bruised face, slapping the wheel and shouting “FUCK!” before laughing harder while you were pressed into the passenger seat with his hoodie warm round you, thighs aching and throat sore with how much you were laughing too until tears came and you didn’t know if they were from laughing or from something else.

He drove and, for a while, neither of you said anything due to having a hard time breathing properly from laughing.

He kept looking over at you, reaching over to grab your thigh and squeezing.

Miles rolled under the wheels as the road got emptier, countryside starting to show up, hedges and a grey sky going dim, just the two of you on a stretch of nothing.

Eventually he pulled off into a lay-by tucked behind a stand of trees, killed the engine and dragged both hands down his face before looking at you.

All you did was just unclip your seatbelt and climb over the gearstick, graceless, one knee on the driver’s seat, the other following, as you settled yourself down straddled across his lap on those solid muscular thighs of his and the second you sank down you felt that heavy bulge pushing up at the front of his joggers again, thickening against your own cock already stirring hot through the thin fabric.

His hands came up, sliding under the hoodie up to your bare back and splayed wide.

He pulled you down onto him, grinding you slow onto that heat and his mouth came up to yours, kissing deep and passionate this time, not frantic or rushing anything.

His forehead pressed to yours, thumbs stroking up and down the notches of your spine.

“A’right, pretty thing?” he murmured against your mouth.

“Yeah,” you breathed. “Yeah. I’m a’right.”

His grin curled up slowly against your lips.

“Where we goin’, then?”

You kissed him again and rolled your hips down onto that thick warm shape under.

You blinked blearily, your mind in disarray as you felt yourself wake up. You felt slightly suffocated, your body incredibly stiff as the sound of a zipper opens and you came face to face with some sort machine that had an outstretched claw.

It pulled out a strange tube that was apparently lodged deep down into your throat, causing you to have a coughing fit after it was fully removed.

“Cognition assessment. What is two plus two?” The cheery voice from the machine asked you, only getting a grunt from you in response as you turned your head to spit out some sort of liquid.

“Incorrect,” The machine’s cheery voice said. “What is two plus two?”

“Four.” You growled out, feeling your senses slowly coming back at once. The machine’s voice continued in the background, talking about some coma while your eyes adjusted to the strange place that you were in before you tilted your head and flinched when you saw a pair of eyes looking back at you.

The blonde man stood a few inches away from you, his face one of surprise as if he were looking at you like you were some sort of alien.

“Hi.” The man greeted you.

You nodded your head, a little breathless. “Hi.”

~~~~~

“So you’re saying I’m on a ship called the Hail Mary, two of our other space comrades have passed and that I can’t remember anything about myself because I was stuck in an induced coma?”

You reiterated Grace’s talking points back to him, the man nodding with a sheepish smile.

“I found your bag though, your last name is Shapiro. Does that ring a bell?” Grace asked you.

You scowled, closing your eyes to recall literally anything that you could but growled in frustration when it only gave you a headache.

“Hey, hey, hey. Don’t strain yourself,” Grace reassured you with his hands hovering your body, unsure if he was allowed to console you physically. “I, uh, went through the same thing. The memories do come back but they come in randomly so you just have to be patient.”

You nodded, eyeing Grace’s hands that were still hovering in the air before the man awkwardly dropped them down.

You jumped in surprise when another voice bellows in the ship, giving Grace a quizzical look. “I thought you said there were only two of us on the ship?”

“Yeah, about that…” Grace’s voice trailed off before the sound of something rushing towards the room you and Grace were in got closer.

You let out a terrified yell when a spider-like creature came rolling into the room in a spherical container, the creature yelling back at you in surprise while Grace was trying his best to deescalate the situation.

“What the fuck is that?!” You pointed at the creature before reaching for a random piece of scrap to throw.

Grace immediately stood between you and the creature, his hands raised up as if to show you that the creature meant no harm. “Listen, I know this is a lot but this is Rocky. He’s from a planet called Erid and he’s also on a mission to save his sun from astrophage.”

“Do you think I’m stupid? I’ve watched The Thing, you’re probably not even a real person. I will burn this spaceship down, I swear to god.” You blabbered, still freaking out.

Grace tilted his head, a hint of a smile on his face as he chuckled in disbelief. “You know John Carpenter’s work?”

“Who is John Carpenter? Question.” Rocky said from behind Grace, the other man turning his head slightly to explain to Rocky about the movie.

You squinted at the two of them in disbelief. “Hello?”

Rocky made a noise before rolling his ball forward so he was next to Grace, the Eridian studying you and your defensive stance.

“Hello, Grace’s friend. I am Rocky.” The Eridian greeted you, his friendly voice somehow making you feel less spastic as you lowered the scrap that you were holding.

Rocky moved closer. “I am sorry for scaring you, will do my best not to let that happen again.”

Your eyes flickered from Rocky to Grace and then back to Rocky again before you sighed. “Right, thank you.”

Grace clapped his hands, a small grin on his face now that the panic had subsided.

“All right!” Grace smiled before turning his full attention to you. “Do you need help shaving your beard and cutting your hair?”

~~~~~

The first flash of your memories came back to you while you were in the lab with Grace, making you shake your head at the slight headache that came after.

“You okay?” Grace asked worriedly, sidling up to you and putting a hand on your shoulder.

You blinked a couple of times, turning your head to look at Grace with a grimace. “Yeah, just had a memory flashback.”

“What did you remember?” Grace lets go of your shoulder, before leaning on the table you were working with his arms crossed.

Your eyes dropped to his bulging biceps, wondering how a school teacher and scientist was built like a brick wall before focusing on Grace’s face. “It’s just a tiny bit but I apparently have a sister and she was supposed to join us on the Hail Mary? I wonder what happened?”

“Maybe you volunteered in her place? The other female astronaut that passed on the ship didn’t have Shapiro as her last name so…” Grace replied, theorising why your sister wasn’t onboard as well.

You let out a sigh of relief, although an unsettling feeling was forming in your gut. “I guess so.”

“How about we get something to eat? I know you skipped breakfast earlier and just went straight to the white board to check out the numbers for our trip to Tau Ceti.” Grace suggested, already reaching out and placing his hand on the small of your back to direct you towards the kitchen area of the ship.

You rolled your eyes at the other man, it’s only been a week since you’ve woken up from your induced coma and Grace had developed a need for physical contact whenever the two of you were in the same vicinity.

You couldn’t blame Grace though since he was alone until Rocky came along but even then physical contact was almost nonexistent due to Rocky’s inability to survive in oxygen.

You cocked an eyebrow at him. “You stalking me now? I guess you can bring the teacher out of the classroom but not the classroom out of the teacher.”

“That makes absolutely no sense, are you sure you’re a scientist?” Grace replied to you with a flat tone, making you huff out a laugh before you nudged his side with yours.

You were surprised to see that Rocky was already in the kitchen, the Eridian waved his arm at the both of you.

“Friend finally eating? Question.” Rocky asked, making you roll your eyes at the Eridian. Both Grace and Rocky were two peas in a pod and they have been taking care of you ever since you woke up.

You liked that Rocky continued to address you as friend instead of your actual name, it felt special in a way that it was just for you.

“Okay guys, I’ll eat. You don’t have to baby me all the time.”

You eventually sat down next to Grace, slurping on some noodles when Rocky came back from his ship with his own food.

“Friend look upset when eat.” Rocky told you in a disgusted tone before shoving his food inside the hole that was at the bottom of his body.

Grace tutted at Rocky. “Rocky, we talked about this.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, turning your head and laughing into Grace’s arm. Grace just sighing in response, probably wondering how he got stuck with the both of you in space.

“Oops, sorry.” You apologised to Grace, moving your body an inch away out of his personal space but raising your eyebrows in surprise when Grace just scooted closer to you before nudging your knee with his.

Grace smirked. “You know I don’t mind.”

“Whatever, just eat your food.” You retorted, feeling your face heat up. You try to ignore the feeling of butterflies fluttering in your stomach for the rest of the lunch.

~~~~~

You were walking around the ship when you stumbled upon Grace and Rocky sitting in the dome, looking up at the screen of the flashy imagery of Earth and you smiled as you leaned by the entrance.

You managed to catch the end tail of their conversation with Rocky asking Grace if he had a mate and Grace replying about he had used to before his ex decided to be with a man named Mark.

“Rocky hate Mark.” Rocky replied, making Grace laugh.

You felt your lips tug in a small smile, somehow feeling good about Grace being single but you try to push that feeling away.

Not all of your memories had come back but you do remember your sister falling for another scientist named Martin Dubois and you wondered about their whereabouts, you remembered the look of adoration your sister gave the man and an ache settled in your chest.

“Does Grace think Friend have mate as well? Question.” Rocky asked Grace, making you tilt your head at the Eridian in amusement.

You rolled your eyes and was about to walk off when Grace’s reply stopped you in your tracks.

Grace leaned towards Rocky, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I kinda hope not.”

You didn’t stay very long to hear what else Grace said before hightailing back to the kitchen to try and process what Grace had meant by that.

Sure, you and Grace had developed a close bond but that was only because the both of you were the only two humans left on ship.

Sure, Grace seemed to be a touchy feely person and was happy when you were slowly reciprocating his touches but that didn’t mean he was particularly interested in you. It was just basic human needs.

Sure, Grace would always drag you away from working to have a proper meal together but Rocky was always present.

Did Grace like you?

Did you like Grace?

You were too busy doing the somewhat impossible math in your head of someone as attractive, intelligent and kind as Grace being interested in you that you jumped when a hand landed on your shoulder.

You whipped your head and took a step back when you saw Grace with an amused smile on his face.

“You okay? You were staring into nothing for a little bit there. Did you get another flashback?” Grace asked, his tone shifting something one of worry as he took a step closer.

You blinked at him before clearing your throat, taking another step back. “Yeah, just a memory came back to me but it wasn’t too significant.”

Grace nodded in understanding, taking a step forward and it made you a step back.

That made Grace pause, a confused scowl on his face and you gulped before Grace took another step forward.

You took a step back and it became a sort of dance with you and Grace literally walking in circles around the kitchen before Grace stopped to stare at you with a somewhat sad look on his face.

“Did I do something wrong?” Grace asked you, making you huff out a nervous laugh as you stepped around him towards the exit of the kitchen.

You shook your head. “It’s nothing. I’m just not feeling well today and I don’t want you to catch what I have.”

Grace was about to open his mouth when you turned away and left the room, leaving the man by himself in the kitchen.

You had a million thoughts run through your mind at once and you knew you couldn’t stay in the same room as Grace or else you’d ask him a stupid question that could ruin your entire friendship.

You didn’t want that, you couldn’t lose the last person you cared about due to stupid stuff like romantic feelings.

~~~~~

“Ow! What are you hitting me for?”

You were slapping Grace’s shoulder after he returned back to the ship from collecting the atmospheric samples near the newly named planet Adrian, once Tau Ceti, which was named after Rocky’s mate.

You pointed a finger at Grace. “Next time, wait for me before you decide to go prancing out of the ship.”

“Hey, it’s fine. I’ve done it a couple of times before you woke up from your coma so it’s kind of a cake walk once you’re out there.” Grace replied, removing his space suit.

You let out a scoff, your jaw tensing. “That’s not the point.”

“Okay, what is it then?” Grace replied, putting down the container that held the samples.

You threw your hands up in the air in frustration. “How about the fact that you could’ve died if something went wrong and you didn’t have someone to back you up?”

“Okay but I’m here aren’t I?” Grace softly told you, bringing your hands down to hold. His thumbs rubbing over your knuckles soothingly, making you huff before nodding.

Grace smiled. “You care about me that much huh?”

You felt your face flush before trying to get away from Grace but the man laughed, strengthening his hold on you.

“I care that you’re the only one capable of piloting the ship.” You looked up at him defiantly, not giving in to his teasing.

Grace tilted his head, smiling down at you before squeezing your hands once and letting go. He made a move to bend down and pick up the samples but stopped when your hand suddenly shot out and held his wrist.

Grace looked back at you in confusion, making you roll your eyes at him before dragging him back up to you and cupping his face to pull him down into a kiss.

Grace lets out a surprised noise at the back of his throat before sighing into the kiss, his body relaxing into yours.

It was gentle. The way Grace’s hands wrapped themselves around your middle to bring you closer to him, his tongue prodding at your lips and letting out a moan when you let his tongue slip in to tangle with your own.

The both of you were getting lost in each other’s lips, the spark between the both of you finally lighting up with each touch.

“Why are Grace and Friend eating each other’s faces? Question.”

You and Grace suddenly jumped away from each other, turning to see Rocky staring at the both of you.

You couldn’t help but laugh at getting caught by an extraterrestrial life form, hiding your face in Grace’s chest while the other man’s hand rubbed the back of your head soothingly as he tried to explain the way humans romantically do things.

“Okay, we should test out the samples with the astrophage that we do have and see what causes them to die on Adrian’s atmosphere.” Grace said, getting a nod from you in response before capturing your lips with his again.

You made a noise of disapproval, breaking the kiss to glare at Grace. “Enough of that, we need to start working.”

“But your lips are so addictive, I can’t help it.” Grace whined leaning again but you stopped him by putting your hand between both your faces.

You cocked an eyebrow at the other man before stepping away from him. “You can kiss me all you want once the work’s done.”

“We’re two very talented scientists, I’m sure we can multitask if we put our minds to it. Isn’t collaboration highly recommended to get the best results?” Grace droned on, following you out.

You shook your head in amusement, you had created a monster.

~~~~~

“I don’t understand the need for these glasses if you’re not going to wear them properly.”

You mused fixing Grace’s glasses on his face with a smirk, the other man glaring at you halfheartedly before the both of you turned when Rocky started freaking about life.

The both of you quickly caught on to what he was saying before testing out the samples on the astrophage and yelling out in victory at finding out that Adrian’s atmosphere kills astrophage.

You and Grace followed Rocky across the ship as the Eridian happily chirped about having found the solution to your problems and that now the three of you could go back home to your respective planets.

You and Grace went quiet, the reality of the trip suddenly weighing heavily down on both your minds.

“Rocky, there’s something we need to tell you.” You started, seeing Grace’s expression shut down.

Rocky chirped happily. “Yes, Friend. Rocky now know you and Grace mates.”

“We’re not going home, Rock. This is a one-way trip. We had enough astrophage to get here, but not enough to get back.” Grace said, ignoring the sad look you sent his way.

Rocky suddenly went quiet, Grace’s words apparently hit him hard before you heard a sad noise come out of the Eridian. “So what happens, Grace and Friend. Question.”

Grace waved his hand. “Oh we’ve got enough food to last us a couple of years.”

You nodded, sidling up to Grace. The other man wrapping a hand around your waist and squeezing you as support.

“So, Grace and Friend die? Question.” Rocky asked, his voice sounded a little panicked and it made your heart break.

Grace nodded. “Yeah, once we’re done. The both of us are going to die.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Rocky asked sullenly, forcing you to swallow down a sob that was slowly bubbling up.

Grace shook his head, glancing at you. “It must’ve slipped our minds while we were doing everything else.”

“No,” Rocky fought back. “Grace said Grace go home.”

Grace sighed, releasing your waist before crouching towards Rocky. “Listen.”

“No.” Rocky retorted.

“Listen.” Grace replied.

“No.” Rocky told him.

“Listen,” Grace tried again, Rocky now quiet as the both of them faced each other. “I got to meet you. I got to do all this amazing stuff and I’m probably going to die with the love of my life. I’m good.”

You hid your mouth behind your hand, trying your best to keep it in together and you wondered how Grace was able to get through the tough conversation.

Maybe delivering bad news was part of the job as a teacher.

“He and I have made our peace with it.” Grace pointed back at you as he spoke to Rocky.

Rocky seemed unconvinced. “What mean? What mean make peace?”

“It means,” Grace’s voice cracked. “We know we’re not going home. We know why and it’s okay.”

Rocky was quiet before saying no when Grace asked for a thumbs up. It made your mouth twitch at the way Grace was trying to console Rocky despite the ugliness of the situation.

You bit your lip, keeping to yourself when Rocky told Grace that he was brave. The blonde man sighed, walking away with his hands on his hips.

You hesitated in reaching out to Grace, you could see how tense the muscles in his back were.

“How much astrophage you need? Question.” Rocky suddenly asked, turning his attention to you.

You sighed when you knew Grace wasn’t going to answer. “Two million killograms.”

“I can give,” Rocky replied, catching you off guard. “I go home six years slower.”

“That’s too much.” Grace argued.

“Rocky watch crew die. Could not fix.” Rocky told Grace. “Grace say Grace and Friend die. Rocky fix.”

You watched as the realisation hit Grace. The other man already tearing up at thought of being able to go home.

You walked up to Grace when he put a hand up to your direction, immediately pulling you in his embrace so he could plant a kiss on the side of your head.

Everyone was going home.

~~~~~

You groaned in pain, your head pounding as your eyes adjusted to your surroundings.

Everything was flashing red and you looked around in confusion when you realised Grace wasn’t in the pilot’s seat.

You got up from the floor, your heart sinking when you saw Rocky’s glass containment was shattered from the inside out.

Your heart started to pump crazily in your chest as you began running towards the direction of the medical bay, your mind still in disarray as you stumbled all over the place.

You gasped seeing Grace on the medical bed before your eyes fell to dark shell of what was once Rocky.

You stood still, shocked, thinking that Rocky was dead until you heard the sound of his usual chirping even though it was faint and weak.

You didn’t think twice before picking up Rocky and wincing in pain when his body started to sizzle against your arms.

You dragged Rocky on the floor, the remnants of his body leaving a trail as you let out a groan and powered your way to the open space of Rocky’s container that surrounded the ship’s interior before pushing Rocky inside and getting your arms burnt in the process when the ammonia touched your skin.

You watched as Rocky slowly but surely retreated into another one of his safety zones that wasn’t compromised before the Eridian fell to the ground in a tired heap.

You forced yourself to walk up to where Rocky was lying down, ignoring the burns on your arms before sliding down next to the container and resting your head against the glass.

Rocky chirped and you huffed out a laugh, nodding in reply.

“I’m okay,” You told Rocky breathlessly. “I’ll watch you and Grace, you don’t have to worry about us. You just need to get better, okay buddy?”

Rocky gives you a final chirp before going silent. You closed your eyes and gave out a sigh before feeling the adrenaline leave your body, the exhaustion finally kicking and knocking you out cold.

~~~~~

“Come on, baby. You got this, don’t leave me.”

You squirmed, hearing Grace’s voice before feeling something next to your body move. You twitched your fingers and heard a gasp on the side.

You forced your eyes open, blinking to adjust to the light that was shining directly down on your face before you turned your head to see Grace staring down at you.

“Hi.” You said to Grace, your voice slightly muffled by the oxygen mask that was strapped to your face.

“Hi.” Grace replied, breathily.

You tried to move but winced when you felt both your arms were stinging.

“Hey, it’s okay. Don’t move,” Grace cooed at you, his hand rubbing the top of your head soothingly. “The cooling agent is helping you treat the burns on your arms.”

“Rocky?” You asked, remembering how you got those burns.

Grace smiled down at you, dropping a kiss to your forehead. “He’s fine, just knocked out. You saved him.”

“He saved you first.” You told Grace, getting a nod in response before Grace wiped a tear from his face.

Grace let out a tired sigh, leaning back on the chair he was sitting on. “I’ll watch over him, you just have to rest. I don’t think you’ll be using your hands anytime soon with those third degree burns.”

“So much for asking you to hold my hand then.” You replied, getting a slight smile out of Grace.

Grace shook his head before leaning his body towards yours. “I can still give you kisses so you don’t have to worry about that.”

You laughed, Grace joining you before a comfortable silence falls between the both of you.

You glanced at Grace and sighed. “I remembered what happened to my sister.”

Grace didn’t reply, his body bristling in response before giving you a sad smile.

You felt your eyes start to sting as tears were flowing down the sides of your face. “Killed because of a mistake.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” Grace consoled you, rubbing away the tears from your face.

You shook your head. “It wasn’t your fault, accidents happen but I just didn’t think it was going to be that intense and now I have to mourn my sister all over again.”

“If you need time to process this alone, I get it. I’ll be here however you need to be.” Grace reassured you, making you smile.

You nodded. “I do need you. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Grace smiled softly before leaning down to kiss your forehead.

You settled down on the bed, squirming slightly since you still couldn’t move your arms. “Once Rocky wakes up, we’ll get out of here right?”

“Of course.” Grace replied.

The side of your mouth twitched. “It’s funny that this was also technically how we first met on the ship.”

“That’s true except you look way cuter now than how you were the first time you woke up.” Grace replied, making you scoff at him before the both of you laughed.

You rolled your eyes at him. “Not all of us can be a muscled hunk that’s also a scientist.”

“Took you long enough babe to notice this physique, I’ll let you explore them once we’re settled with everything around us.” Grace told you, making you shake your head at him fondly.

You sighed. “You know even if Rocky didn’t have extra astrophage for us, I think it was pretty nice to find my home with you.”

Grace nodded, smiling. “Home is wherever you are.”

“Sap.” You retorted, getting an offended squawk from Grace.

Grace huffed. “You started it.”

You felt your eyes get heavy again, yawning slightly before turning to Grace. “Grace?”

“Yeah baby?” Grace sat closer to you.

You smiled at the pet name. “Make sure Rocky wakes up, okay?”

“Of course, baby. We’re not leaving him.” Grace huffed out a small laugh before pecking you on the cheek as you slowly drifted off to sleep.

There were still many things to do but you knew Grace was able to handle it.

He was the bravest man you’ve ever met.

*****

Author’s note:

My first Ryland Grace fic!

I’m so happy to be able to post this after having watched Project Hail Mary so many times in the theaters

Can’t wait to write more!

Sherry signed off before leaning back on her chair with a tired sigh. She hoped Leon would be okay heading towards the Raccoon City Police Department on his own.

The sound of the floor squeaking behind her, makes her immediately stand up and turn around with her gun out before lowering it when she saw who it was.

“What are you doing here?” Sherry asked.

You gave Sherry an unimpressed look, folding your arms. “Neat place to hide but for someone who’s been agent for so long, you’d think you would turn off your ‘find my phone’ function so I wouldn’t find you on my gps.”

Sherry gasped, taking her phone out and realising that you were right. She shook her head defiantly as her eyes caught sight of the black veins on your neck. “You should be resting.”

“So should you.” You countered, getting a scoff from the other woman.

Sherry shook her head. “It’s fine. My regenerative abilities from the G-Virus have been keeping the infection at bay.”

“Yet you’re downing meds that would easily take down an elephant.” Your tone shifting to a softer one before you took a step towards her, patting her on the head as if she was the same child you and the others had saved so many years ago.

Sherry chuckled, lightly slapping your hand away from her head. “So did you come here to just check up on me?”

“Yes and no,” You mused as you took your phone out with a frown on your face. “Where is he, Sherry? He hasn’t been returning my calls or texts and it’s been a couple of days.”

Sherry worried on her bottom lip, unsure if telling you the truth would further upset you or bring you some sort of comfort knowing where Leon was.

“Okay,” Sherry sighed. “But promise you won’t get mad.”

“Promise.” You replied to her, not knowing what you were going to hear next was going to change your whole direction for the rest of the day.

~~~~~

“Now what the hell did I just walk into?”

You whispered to yourself after watching a scientist with snake like skin and tentacles for an arm decapitate another man while a platinum blonde haired woman was shielding an unconscious Leon on the floor after getting pierced in the side by the scientist.

“Hey!” You drew your gun out, catching the attention of everyone else except for Leon before the woman turned back and injected Leon with some kind of serum.

“It’s working,” The woman panted out. “Leon, it’s working wake up!”

You dragged your eyes away from the two on the floor, your gun still aimed at the scientist but the man pays you no mind as he walked up to a panel in the middle of the platform and pressed a few buttons.

“Now. Let it all come down,” The scientist turned to you, before raising his hand that was holding another serum. “All of it.”

“What?” You asked out loud, still unsure of what was fully happening.

“Grace, what happened?” Leon’s voice caught your attention before you ducked and rolled at the last second when the scientist swiped his tentacled arm at you.

Leon’s eyes meets yours in a hazy confusion before he gasped. “What the hell are you doing here?!”

Grace watched the both of you, still holding on to her side where she was wounded.

“Oh you know,” You panted out, feeling the effects of the mutating t-virus furthering your fatigue. “I was revisiting memories of our adventures in this lab.”

Leon quickly crawled to you, softly cradling your face as he saw the dark veins had spread to your chin. “We need to get you that cure.”

The whole place shakes, debris falling everywhere and the platforms tips before falling off to the side.

“It’s gonna go!” Leon yelled out, immediately gathering you into his arms. “Grab something!”

You, Leon and Grace then fell off the toppling platform and to the floor below, Grace yelling out while you and Leon stumbled onto the floor.

Leon supporting you the entire time so you didn’t hurt yourself when you landed, slightly amazed by the other man’s renewed strength.

Leon hugged you close to his body when the remainder of the previous platform fell to the floor that the both of you were on.

“Grace?” Leon looked around with you, calling out for Grace. “Grace!”

The both of you then turned your heads to see Gideon walk up to the both of you, Leon shielding you with his body as he took a step forward.

“Go find Grace.” Leon told you, making you nod as you quickly ducked away before Leon turned his attention to Gideon. “Time to bury umbrella’s last skeleton.”

You searched around the mess, hearing Leon fight off Gideon in the background before you saw Grace’s unconscious body on the floor.

“Grace!” You called out to her as you dropped to your knees and patted her softly on the face. “Come on, it’s not nap time yet.”

Grace let out a groan as she came back to her senses before sitting up and looking at you in confusion as her eyes fell on the dark veins on your neck. “Wait, you’re infected too? Who are you?”

The sound of Gideon yelling and what seemed to be electricity catches the two of you off guard before you turned back to her questioning gaze. “I’m the husband of the man you saved with that cure.”

“Husband? Wow, his dad jokes suddenly make a lot of sense.” Grace panted out, making you chuckle.

You shook your head. “His dad jokes have been around since I met him here in Raccoon City, twenty-eight years ago.”

You hear Gideon let out a defeated wail and got up to see the scientist fall off the platform.

“Good riddance.” Leon muttered before turning his head to look for you and sighing in relief when your eyes locked in with his.

Grace stood next to you, halting you from going to Leon. “Wait! You need this.”

You turned to her in confusion, only to flinch when she injected you with the cure and you gasped feeling the weight of the illness suddenly leave your body.

You saw Leon grin before the both of you whipped your heads at the edge where Gideon fell off at the sound of something massive moving from below.

“Grace, go and find someplace safe to hide. I have a feeling we’re not done yet.” You advised Grace, who nodded before running away to hide behind some debris.

You jogged up to Leon, picking up the rocket launcher that was conveniently left on the floor and then accepting the kiss on the cheek that he gave you.

Leon sighed happily, noticing the black veins on your neck now gone. “You’re cured.”

The both of you turned when giant tentacles and claws latch to the side of the platform as a giant monster rose up from the ground, its unbelievable size taking up half of the room.

Leon grabbed and covered you with his body when the monster lands on the platform, grunting when the impact caused a gush of wind to rush at the both of you.

“A nemesis,” Leon said as he looked up at the hideous creature. “No wonder, he was so damn relentless.”

“Yeah, well when there’s a nemesis…” You trailed off, lifting the rocket launcher up.

Leon turned his head to you with an amused smile. “There’s a Valentine ready to take it down.”

“It’s Kennedy now, I got married.” You winked at Leon.

Leon shook his head with a chuckle. “I really am the luckiest man alive.”

The new nemesis roared, forcing the both of you turn to it with your weapons out.

“Cover me?” Leon breathed out.

You grinned, aiming the rocket launcher towards the monster. “Always.”

~~~~~

“How’s Claire and the others?”

You asked one of the members of Chris’ team, The Hound Wolf Squad.

The man nodded, a good sign. “Captain Redfield says everyone’s currently stable and still resting.”

You smiled, handing the man some of the antivirals. “These should be enough for Claire, Carlos, Ada and Jill. Make sure to pass the remainders to Rebecca to replicate the cure. Oh and tell Jill that I’m fine, the cure worked and that I’ll see my sister when I come back.”

“Yes sir.” The man responded before walking away.

A familiar set of strong arms circled your waist from behind, the front of Leon’s body leaned onto your back as the man burrowed his face into your neck with a deep sigh.

You patted the side of Leon’s face before kissing the hinge of his jaw. “How are you holding up? You’ve been gone for quite awhile.”

“I’m sorry,” Leon replied, his voice slightly muffled. “I should’ve told you where I was going but we were running out of time.”

“Hey, you had to do something with whatever was at your disposal. Sherry was the one who told me by the way, so don’t get mad at her.” You told Leon, the man grumbled unhappily.

Leon groaned, removing his face from your neck as he turned you around so the both of you were facing each other. “I much preferred if you hadn’t put yourself through hell to find me but I’m happy that you’re here with me now.”

“Between you and Grace, I pretty much sailed through everything and it was all worth it you know?” You told Leon, making the man’s head tilt in question.

You sighed, leaning your body toward his. “It didn’t matter if we were able to find a cure or not, I would’ve fought to be by your side even till the very end.”

Leon smiled warmly at you, resting his forehead against yours. “Well we don’t have to think about that now, it’s all in the past.”

“Yeah well, speaking of the past. I found a letter that was written by Marvin’s daughter and I felt like shit remembering what Marvin told me at the station way back then while I was alone with him before he turned.” You worried your bottom lip, trying not to tear up.

Leon’s hand cradled the side of your face, he tilted his head to kiss your forehead while he shushed you softly. “It’s okay baby, it wasn’t easy for me too when I walked back into the station and the events of that night replayed in my mind.”

“We should’ve died but we didn’t.” You muttered, feeling the downturn of Leon’s lips on your forehead.

Leon leaned back, his eyes boring into yours with a sense of determination. “You’re right but we were given the chance to live so we should continue to honour them by fighting the fight however we can.”

“I love you.” You sniffled, getting a comforting kiss from the other man.

Leon pulled back with a soft smile. “I love you more. There’s nobody in this life that I’d go through all of this with.”

You smiled before your eyes shifted to Grace sitting by her lonesome on one of the helicopters that the squad had arrived on.

You took out one of the antivirals out of your pocket before handing it to Leon. “Tell Sherry we got one for her too, I’ll go check on Grace.”

Leon nodded before tapping on his earpiece to inform Sherry of the good news as you walked over to Grace.

“Grace.” You called out to her, the other woman looking up at you with a small smile.

Grace sighed. “Hey, looks like you’re doing well.”

“You mind?” You pointed to the space next to her, Grace shaking her head as she scooted over to let you sit.

You sighed, glancing at her with a comforting smile. “Your last name’s Ashcroft right? I knew your mom before she passed.”

“You were friends with my mom?” Grace stuttered slightly, seeing you shake your head in response.

You sighed. “We weren’t close, I met her in passing when I was still working for the government. What she uncovered and did in exposing Umbrella back then was an insane feat, she was a very brave woman.”

“Yeah, she was. I miss her.” Grace’s voice trailed off.

You bumped your shoulder with hers. “You’ll get through this, thank you for being brave on your own. You saved my husband.”

Grace opened her mouth and was about to respond when Leon’s voice interrupted her.

“It’s over then.” Leon walked up to the both of you with a small smile.

“Yeah,” Grace smiled back. “Elpis was really our last hope.”

“Well let’s pray Umbrella hasn’t left us any more nasty surprises.” Leon replied, winking at you and getting an eye roll from you in response.

Grace shook her head and sighed. “I wish we could’ve saved Emily.”

“Grace,” Leon walked up to Grace, making her look up at him. “I didn’t hit any of her vitals. She should still be alive.”

“What are you saying?” Grace asked Leon with a hopeful expression.

Leon gives her a comforting smile. “Maybe we can save her.”

Grace was almost in disbelief, her face contorting to a relieved smile before turning to look at you when you shoved another antiviral into her hand.

“This is the last one.” You smiled at Grace before taking Leon’s outstretched hand as the both of you walked off, letting Grace process everything by herself.

Leon lets go of your hand before removing the glove off his left hand and then procuring his wedding ring from his pocket to slip it onto his ring finger. “Feels good to have this on me again, I’m happy that I didn’t lose it.”

“You lost your jacket though.” You pointed out in amusement as Leon grabbed your hand with his to hold.

Leon shrugged. “It was more to cover up the virus spreading anyways.”

“Well, I’m not complaining. I appreciate the tight shirt over all your muscles. Your butt looks good in those pants by the way.” You told Leon, the man turning his head to you in surprise when you pinched one of his cheeks.

Leon lets out a low chuckle. “Seems like the antiviral did more than just healed us. Let’s go home and let me show you how much I’ve missed you.”

“Lead the way then, Mr Kennedy.” You giggled.

Leon grinned. “Of course, Mr Kennedy.”

~~~~~

“Oh fuck, Leon.”

You whined as Leon took more of your length into his mouth. The both of you were now at home in your bedroom, Leon lying comfortably in between your legs.

Leon released your cock from his mouth with an audible pop before kissing and nibbling the skin of your inner thighs, making your hips stutter in pleasure as Leon’s hands were forcing them down on the mattress.

“Be patient, baby.” Leon muttered against your thigh before lifting your legs up to rest on his shoulders so he was face to face with your awaiting hole.

Leon’s tongue teases your hole, the slick tip circling your rim before dipping into the crevice but not immediately pushing in.

You hissed, Leon had been teasing you for an hour straight. The man’s mouth having marked every part of your body, especially on your chest where he was practically nursing on your nipples for the better half of that hour.

You got a chuckle from Leon when you tapped the heel of your foot on his shoulder.

Leon took the hint, dipping his tongue into you with a hungry moan that made you throw your head back with a whimper when your husband began to fuck you with his tongue.

You felt the tip of Leon’s sharp nose resting against your taint as he pushed his tongue deeper into you, coating your walls with his saliva and groaning when you squeezed his tongue with your hole.

Once your hole was loose enough by the combination of Leon’s tongue and fingers, your husband lined up his cock with your hole before he slowly pushed himself in.

Leon huffed out a sigh of satisfaction, his eyes closed as he pushed himself deeper inside you while you were whimpering at his sheer girth.

“We’ve been together for twenty-eight years and you’re still as tight as the first time we did this.” Leon told you, leaning his head down to kiss you on the lips as his hips slowly gyrate. His cock going deeper in you, causing you to let out whimper against his lips that he greedily swallowed.

This was Leon’s favourite position, having to be able to see you as he fucked you. Your arms clinging onto his broad back, your attention fully on him as he continued to drive his cock into your warmth.

You let out tiny whimpers when Leon began to pick up the pace, his thrusting pelvis audibly smacking against your ass.

“I love you, I love you, I love you…” Leon muttered, mouthing against your neck and jaw before capturing your lips with his in a bruising kiss.

You knew Leon loved it when your senses were overwhelmed by him. Your eyes only focused on his face, your mouth preoccupied by his, your hands clinging onto his back, the smell of his musk filling up your nostrils and the sound of his gravelly voice in your ears.

Leon’s version of making love meant that the whole world was silent, only the harmonic sounds of your intertwined bodies were present.

“Leon,” You panted, feeling the familiar heat in your gut rising. “You’re gonna make me cum.”

Leon chuckled, biting at the hinge of your jaw as he tilted his hips just enough so his cock was hitting your prostate.

“That’s right baby, you only cum when I’m inside you. You only cum because of me.” Leon muttered, driving his hips faster into you with renewed intensity.

You couldn’t help but to moan and whimper your husband’s name over and over again, your fingernails scratching Leon’s back with every thrust he gave you.

“Oh fuck, Leon.” You cried out as you spilled in between your and Leon’s sweaty bodies, making the other man whimper when the intensity of your release squeezed his cock.

Leon’s thrust suddenly became erratic, the man trying his best not to lose control as he pummelled into you. “Baby, you almost made me came just from that.”

You smirked, your hands moving from Leon’s back to hold his face so you could force him to look at you.

You pushed his sweaty bangs from his face so his eyes met yours. “I want you to fill me up with your babies.”

Leon was caught off guard by your words before groaning in surprise when you suddenly turned your bodies over so you were straddling his lap while his dick was still lodged inside you.

You licked your lips at the sight of your husband’s glistening and sweaty muscles, getting a short cry when you squeezed his cock with your hole.

You then leaned back, your hands resting on Leon’s large thighs as you began to fuck yourself on his cock. Leon’s hands immediately grabbing your hips, his cock dragging within your walls as you continuously lifted yourself up before plopping back down on his lap.

You repeated the process, riding Leon and savouring the man’s moans and whimpers after he had his fun by taking care of your needs first.

Your husband was a considerate lover to say the least.

Leon suddenly shot up from his laid back position on the bed, his arms wrapping themselves around your middle with him mouthing against your chest, indicating that he was getting close.

You squeezed his cock with your hole once again and Leon let out a cry as he spilled his warm seed into you, his body twitching as you continued to squeeze his cock to milk him dry while you were still on his lap.

Leon stayed still, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. You feel his warm and heavy panting on your skin as you softly caressed the back of his head, your lips kissing the crown of his head.

“You good?” You asked Leon, getting a wet chuckle from your husband as he pulled away from your neck to look up at you adoringly.

Leon sighed. “I feel amazing every single time I get to be inside you.”

“I’ll never know how you can turn such a dirty sentence into the sappiest line I’ve ever heard.” You mused, chuckling with Leon as he kissed your exposed collarbone.

Leon huffed. “I love you so much.”

You pulled away, smiling sweetly down at him before leaning back down to peck him on the lips. “I love you more.”

“Not possible.” Leon replied before turning your bodies around so you were lying on the bed, his cock slipping out of your hole before you laughed as the man peppered kisses all over your face.

“Round two?” You breathed out, looking up at Leon’s dilated eyes as he lowered his body on top of yours.

Leon nipped at your jaw, a smirk forming on his face. “Thought you’d never ask.”

*****

Author’s note:

My first smutty Leon fic!

As much as I wanted to write Leon based on the timeline of the games, I simply couldn’t help but write for the older version of him

Might just write more fluff on Leon in the future, this was really fun

You hear Reed ask for your help from the bathroom, making you roll your eyes with a smile as you noticed the comb sitting on one of the drawers next to the bed.

You picked it up and made your way to the bathroom, watching as Reed was trying his best to style his hair with just his hands.

You softly laughed. “You know you don’t have to always look good while you’re in the lab.”

“Well if I weren’t to keep my appearances up, how will I ever continue to keep you as my boyfriend while we work? What if you get repulsed by me?” Reed retorted with a small smile on his face, indicating that he was joking even though his tone was serious.

You snorted, handing him his comb that he graciously accepted. “I’ll let you know once the magic wears off so you’ll be prepared for the breakup.”

“Darling, don’t jest.” Reed scolded you, a small frown etched on his face, causing you to laugh before dropping a kiss on his cheek.

You squeezed his arm. “Of course not, my love. I still have to work under you, in more ways than one.”

Reed choked on nothing as you let out a laugh, walking out of the bathroom to let him finish up with his morning routine.

“Oh Reed, remember that I’ll be away for a couple of days to visit my parents. I’m halfway packed so I’m continuing after breakfast.” You reminded Reed as you left your shared bedroom to go have breakfast with rest of the Fantastic Four.

Reed pouted, looking at himself in the mirror. He didn’t know when he had become incredibly clingy towards you, perhaps he got used to having you around all the time in and out of work.

When he traversed down to the kitchen, he smiles seeing you comfortably chatting with the others.

In all honesty, Reed had been terrified for the others to know that he was dating you, let alone that you were his assistant.

He was a little glad that Johnny was the one that discovered the both of you together being a little promiscuous in the lab and blabbed about the relationship to Sue and Ben.

You were mortified at the time but Reed was relieved.

Reed’s cowardice had prevented him to be open with his team, his family and it also meant hiding his love for you from the outside world.

Reed, of course, confided in you about his insecurities and was pleasantly surprised to find out that you shared the same feelings.

Now, in present time, the both of you were happily doing normal couple stuff in front of everyone.

“There you are, what took you so long.” Your voice interrupts Reed’s thoughts, making him chuckle as he drops a kiss to your head before sitting down next to you at the dining table.

Reed raised an eyebrow at you in amusement. “Darling, I was only five minutes after you.”

Everyone laughed at Reed’s expense and breakfast went smoothly with you saying goodbye to the others to finish packing before you leave to go see your parents.

You pecked Reed on the cheek, telling him to stay and enjoy his food before walking away to your shared bedroom.

“God, you are so in love. It’s gross.” Johnny’s voice snapped Reed out of the trance that he was in when he watched you walk off.

Reed turned to see the others staring at him in amusement, it makes him blush slightly at getting caught.

Sue rolled eyes. “Ignore Johnny, he’s just a little grumpy since his date bailed on him last night.”

“Okay, I told you that in confidence.” Johnny retorted, getting laughs from his teammates.

Ben snorted before turning his attention to Reed. “You didn’t want to join him in meeting your future parents-in-law, stretch?”

“Well we came to a mutual agreement that he would break the news to them first. I did ask but he was firm in his decision to do it alone and who was I to argue with his choice.” Reed shrugged, getting an impressed whistle from Johnny.

Johnny shrugged when Reed sent a withering glance his way. “What? It’s just nice to see you out and about especially after the divorce.”

Johnny’s eyes flickered to Sue for a second before focusing his gaze back on Reed.

Reed glanced at Sue, getting a comforting smile and nod in response. It instantly quells the uneasiness that had risen in Reed’s chest.

“Thank you.” Reed said in earnest, getting smiles from everyone else before finishing up his breakfast to go see you in the bedroom.

~~~~~

“Yes, Mom. I’ll be taking a cab over, don’t worry about me.”

Reed watched by the door with a small smile on his face as you talked to your mother on the phone, keeping quiet so he doesn’t disturb you.

He watched as you sighed when you ended the call before turning and jumping slightly when you saw Reed silently standing by the door of your shared bedroom.

“Reed. How long have you been standing there?” You asked Reed with hand on your chest from the small fright.

Reed chuckled, walking up to you before wrapping his arms around your waist and dropping a kiss on your lips as an apology. “It wasn’t long darling, I caught the end of the conversation with your mother.”

“She’s excited, complained that I haven’t been home in months and said three days wasn’t enough.” You snorted, lifting your arms to rest on Reed’s shoulders.

Reed hummed, his hands tightening around your waist. “I can agree with her on that, three days away from you is torturous to me.”

You laughed in response, hiding your face against Reed’s chest while he smiled into your hair.

“I’m sure you’ll do fine without me around, Reed. You did good before I came along and became your assistant.” You pulled back with an amused smirk aimed at the taller man, your eyebrow quirked slightly.

Reed huffed, pouting at you. “That was before we were together darling. Now without you in my arms, it feels as though my entire nervous system is shutting down.”

“You are ridiculous, Richards.” You shook your head at Reed, taking a step back but stopping when you realised Reed had a tight grip around your waist to prevent you from moving.

Reed made a noise of disapproval before dipping his head down to nose along your jaw, his blunt teeth then nipping at your jawline.

“Reed.” You let out a shuddering breath, your tone voice giving him a warning.

Reed bit his lip, a deep rumble in his chest. “How about I show you how much my body craves for you?”

“Oh no, you don’t.” You pulled your head back from Reed’s mouth, making the other man huff at you. “I’ve already packed and the cab’s reaching soon, I do not need to explain to my parents why I suddenly have a million love bites on my neck.”

Reed groaned in defeat when you pulled away from his grip, watching as you went around the room to get the rest of your stuff.

When you made a move to grab your luggage, Reed immediately swooped in and snatched it from your hands.

You gave him a look and Reed shrugged. “At least let me carry this down to the cab, darling. I’d like to see you off, will you at least bestow me that privilege?”

“Of course, Reed.” You rolled your eyes at him before the both of you made the move down to the lobby of the building.

You and Reed patiently wait for the cab to arrive, Reed holding your hand the entire time. Reed felt you squeeze his hand in reassurance before you pecked him on the cheek.

“I should be the one driving you.” Reed huffed, making you smile at his annoyance.

You shook your head fondly. “It’s all the way out of the city and it eases my nerves to know that you won’t be far away if the world needs to call on The Fantastic Four.”

“I wish you were a little more selfish about keeping me around.” Reed retorted, causing you to let out a laugh.

You looped your arm around Reed’s, leaning most of your weight on him. “I think you do enough of that for the both of us, Dr. Richards.”

The both of you see the cab turn in, stopping directly at the front. Reed helps put the luggage in the back while you waited for him by the side door.

You chuckled seeing Reed’s slight frown when he made his way back to you, leaning down to peck you on the lips.

“Promise you’ll call or text me once you’ve settled in?” Reed asked you, making you tilt your head at him with a small smile.

You sighed. “I promise. Just promise me that you’ll be safe if the world needs you to be a hero?”

“Darling, we’re the Fantastic Four. I promise I’ll always come back to you.” Reed responded with a smile, noticing the way your body shudders in response at his words.

The two of you shared one last kiss before Reed watched you get in the cab and leave for your parents’ home.

Reed turned back, already preparing a to-do list in his mind with work to distract him while you’re gone.

He already misses you.

~~~~~

“Darling, what are the numbers on the board?” Reed calls out for you, turning his head in confusion when he hears no reply and only to realise that he had forgotten you weren’t there with him.

Reed huffed, feeling a little put out. Your absence had unexpectedly disrupted his flow of work and he mildly wondered when he had stopped being independent and leaned on you for support.

Reed had always admired how quick and thorough you worked so that the both of you could get through the day and still have time for leisure together after.

If Reed were honest to himself, you contribute to his work in the professional field and his personal life by being his partner in more ways than one.

It makes him reflect on whether he has been as loving and supportive of you as well.

Reed leaned back on his chair, his thoughts about work now replaced by you and an idea popped into his head.

Reed quickly stood up, any planned he had for the day now abandoned as he directed his energy into something more useful in the long run.

Reed quickly runs off to the elevator, he needs to find the others.

~~~~~

Reed found Sue first, lounging in the middle of the living room while reading a book. He hesitated, unsure if asking his ex wife for advice on how to be more romantic was a good idea.

“Reed, I can tell that you’re thinking super hard about approaching me. How can I help you?” Sue said out loud, flipping a page on her book without even turning her head to look at where he was standing.

Reed’s mouth was agape before he shook his head and cleared his throat as he walked up to where Sue was sitting.

“Well I am currently facing a dilemma and I would like some advice, if you’re willing to share of course.” Reed replied to Sue, watching as she glanced up at him curiously before shutting her book and putting it on the side.

Sue smirked. “Your current dilemma doesn’t have to do with your precious darling isn’t it?”

Reed’s eyes widened, his mouth opening and closing as he was trying to form any kind of coherent response that he could.

“Reed, calm down. I’m happy to help.” Sue told Reed with a chuckle, making the other man sigh with relief.

Reed adjusted his tie, feeling it suddenly tighten around his neck. “Well, it seems a bit ludicrous and shallow but I would like some advice on how to be more romantic.”

“You need advice to be romantic? Reed, what gave you the idea that you were not romantic at all?” Sue asked, her face contorting to one of pure confusion.

Reed bit his lip. “Well, besides the obvious divorce between us, I feel like I haven’t been a giving partner towards him.”

Sue sighed, standing up from the couch before folding her arms. “Our divorce wasn’t because you were not romantic enough during our marriage. In fact, you were very romantic actually. We just had different ideas with our lives and being heroes had somewhat put a difficult strain on our relationship.”

Reed was quiet, slowly processing what Sue just told him. Logically, he understood what she was trying to convey perfectly but a part of him still felt unsure.

Sue scoffed before reaching up and poking Reed in the middle of the forehead to snap him out of his thoughts. “Reed, maybe you’re looking at this in the wrong perspective. Traditionally, you know how to be romantic with me because I’m a woman but you’ve never been with a man before.”

“Oh.” Reed gasped, the realisation suddenly hitting him.

Sue rolled her eyes at him. “How about asking Johnny? He’s been intimidate with both men and women, I’d imagine he has a lot to say.”

Reed nodded in reply, thanking Sue before making a strategic exit while she settled back on the couch and picked up her book to resume her reading.

“Finally, some peace and quiet.” Sue muttered to herself.

~~~~

Reed found Johnny in his room, the latter mindlessly throwing a football into the air before catching it and then repeating the process.

“Johnny, do you have some time to spare?” Reed called out to the blonde, wincing when Johnny suddenly fell backwards from his chair in shock.

Johnny quickly got back up with a small glare sent at Reed before he fixed his clothes and hair as if he didn’t just embarrass himself in front of the scientist.

Johnny sighed. “What do you want Reed?”

“I need advice.” Reed replied, getting a confused look from Johnny in return.

Johnny scoffed. “If this is an April Fool’s joke, it’s not going to work since it’s September.”

Reed used all of his might not to roll his eyes or palm his face, opting to take a deep breath instead before letting out a sigh.

“I need advice on being more romantic, specifically with men. I heard from Sue that you have experience in that area.” Reed tells Johnny, watching in real time as the blonde’s face turns into one of pure delight.

Before Reed could even register what was going on, Johnny was already at his side with an arm over Reed’s shoulder.

“Oh Reed, we have so much to discuss.” Johnny says with glee and it makes Reed gulp at what he just signed himself up for.

~~~~~

“You okay, stretch?”

Reed looks up tiredly from the dining table to see Ben walk in with bag of groceries. He smiles at Ben, nodding his head.

“I’m okay, old friend. I just had a very long and thorough conversation with Johnny about romance, I may have regrets.” Reed tells Ben with a chuckle, getting a similar one in response.

Ben leaves the bag of groceries on the kitchen counter before he made his way to Reed, sitting next to the genius.

Ben gives Reed an amused look. “Why’d you go to hothead for that?”

Reed sighed, leaning back on his seat. His mind still buzzing from all the information that Johnny had told him, whether he liked them or not.

“I suppose I was desperate to gain more knowledge about the subject, that I was willing to sit through what he had to say.” Reed explained, making Ben chuckle.

Ben rolled his eyes. “Did you get what you wanted?”

“Nope.” Reed replied.

Ben nodded, huffing out a laugh. “Listen, stretch. You’re a romantic guy, you somehow managed to find a star and named it after him.”

Reed blushed, remembering the surprised look on your face before you made him see stars in the privacy of your shared bedroom.

“You love him, he loves you. What’s so difficult about that? You light up every time he enters the room and you barely let the man breathe with how much you drape yourself around him like second skin.” Ben says, laughing in amusement when Reed’s face reddens.

Reed scratched his chin in thought. “I suppose I have been overly affectionate.”

“That’s saying something lightly, pal.” Ben huffed out a laugh, getting an offended squawk from Reed.

Reed then stood up, feeling a little better. He patted Ben on the shoulder with a small smile. “Thank you my friend, you really are wise beyond your years.”

“You calling me old?” Ben retorted before the both of them laughed it off as Reed left for the bedroom.

~~~~~

The day before you were supposed to return from your parents’ place, The Fantastic Four were called on for an emergency.

Reed was disappointed, he had planned out the entire day to gather gifts for you. He was not a happy trooper as he fought off hoards of enemies.

If he had hit a little harder than he usually would have, the others didn’t say much.

After the mission, everyone dispersed. Reed going down to the elevator to his lab, hoping to wind down after realising that all the stores that he originally wanted to scour for gifts had been closed by the time he got home.

When he reached his lab, still clad in his F4 uniform, he was surprised to see you in the middle of it pacing back and forth.

“Darling?” Reed called out to you, seeing your eyes immediately meet his before you ran up to him.

Reed threw his arms out as you reached for him to pull him into a hug. “Oh Reed, I was worried sick.”

“What are you doing here? You were supposed to arrive tomorrow.” Reed asked you, his hands holding your waist tightly as if this was all a dream and that you were suddenly going to disappear.

You rested your arms over his shoulders, a blush blossoming on your cheeks. “I might have installed the same alarm that the Fantastic Four uses for emergencies on my watch and I might have rushed over here when you didn’t pick up my calls or answered my texts after a half a day.”

“Oh darling, how I’ve missed you.” Reed chuckled before connecting his lips with yours, his tongue immediately prodding at your lips for access to your mouth.

Reed moans when you let his tongue slip past your lips, relishing your taste that he craved for the past few days.

Reed then breaks the kiss, nosing along your jawline with small pecks that make you giggle before he nibbles on your earlobe to hear the sound of your breathy moans in his own ears.

“Are you going to show me how much you’ve missed me?” You asked him with a teasing grin that stirs heat in Reed’s gut.

The feeling of nothing but want and lust flowed through Reed’s body before he lifted you up in a bridal carry to the elevator so he could bring you all the way back to the bedroom.

~~~~~

“It’s ridiculous how soft your suit feels but your body’s all harden by all the muscles you have.”

Reed smiled as your hands were exploring his chest while he still had his super suit on. He unconsciously puffed up his chest at your attention on him.

He had you sitting in his lap, his hands massaging your ass cheeks and it makes you whimper in his arms.

“What do you think daddy should do to you after you’ve been away for so long, baby?” Reed asked you, causing a shiver to run up your spine at his low sensual tone.

You licked your lips. “Anything you want, daddy. I’m yours.”

Reed gives you a satisfied smile before pecking you on the lips. “How about this? You take off all your clothes, lie down on the bed and let me take care of you. I missed you so much, especially this beautiful body of yours.”

Reed watched with a smile as you timidly nodded before getting off his lap to get naked for him before lying back on the pillows.

“I’m gonna strip now and you’re gonna watch. Only I get to touch you, got it?” Reed told you, watching you gulp as your eyes greedily take in his body when he starts to strip.

Reed smirked as he got on the bed, noticing how your hands were clutching the sheets in anticipation.

Reed’s cock bounced at the sight, getting a small gasp from you in return when you saw his length jump.

Reed looked down at his slowly hardening cock and then up to your hazed expression, he grinned. “If you want my cock, baby. You’re going to lie there prettily and let me show you how much I miss you, okay?”

“Okay.” You softly responded, making Reed rile up at how perfect you were being for him.

Reed leaned forward kisses you once on the lips before he trailed down to your neck, marking you with a hickey.

Reed hears you sigh, your body reacting to his lips when he felt your cock twitch against his thigh.

Reed smiled as he descended to your chest, holding your hips down when he latched his mouth onto one of your nipples. He knew how sensitive your chest was so he had to hold you down.

“Daddy…” You whimpered, the sweetness of your voice accompanying the loud sound of Reed’s mouth on your chest as he licked and sucked on the nubs of your nipples.

Reed chuckled against your chest before raising himself up to peck you on the lips. “I’ve missed you so much, darling.”

“It was only a few days, Reed.” You laughed, leaning in to kiss him sweetly on the lips. Your hands grabbing his face as Reed deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue into your mouth.

The both of you moaning.

Reed then pulled back, panting slightly. “Can you raise your legs for me, baby? Daddy wants to eat you out.”

You did exactly as Reed said, watching the man scoot down to your legs as you exposed yourself for him.

Reed licked his lips at the sight, his cock twitching at the thought of no one else in the world seeing you like this but him.

Reed then lowered himself until he was facing your hole, leaning in to give it kitten licks and smirking when he sees your hole open and close as if it was winking at him.

Reed then latched his mouth onto your hole, pushing his tongue into you. Your body flinching before you broke off into a moan as Reed used his powers to elongate and fatten his tongue in you.

Reed groaned into your hole, savouring your taste. He knew you loved it when he used his powers during sex, one of the many things he appreciated going into a relationship with you.

The both of you being scientists and experimenting even in bed shouldn’t have been a surprise but Reed loved it when you accepted him as a whole even with the freakier things he could do with his abilities.

“Fuck, Daddy. You’re so deep in me.” You whined, a sweet melodious sound in Reed’s ears before the man replaced your hands with his and pushed your knees closer to your chest as he continued to eat you out.

Reed feels the tip of his tongue hit something firm and judging by your immediate reaction, he knew he had found your prostate.

Reed renewed his efforts, hungrily eating you out as you continued to whine and whimper at his relentless attack on your hole.

He then wrapped his lips around the rim while his tongue was still in you and sucked, causing you to cry out as you came all over your chest.

Reed then retracted his tongue and pulled back, watching your hole practically breathing on its own before he tapped it with his hand.

“I’m gonna fuck you now, okay baby?” Reed whispered, getting a tired nod from you in response before Reed settled himself between your legs and lined up his hard cock with your hole.

You let out a small gasp when the head of Reed’s cock pushed in, throwing your head back against the pillows.

Reed waited for you to adjust before seeing you nod and continued to push himself in, you were still tight even after he opened you up with his tongue.

Reed always exercised his patience with you, the primal urge to just push himself all the way in due to how good you felt around his cock, always drove him insane.

When Reed finally bottomed out, the both of you let out moans. Reed waited again, leaning his body on top of yours while you adjusted to his girth.

“I’m okay.” You told Reed before he captured your lips with his as he started to thrust into you, swallowing the moans you were letting out.

Reed rumbled happily against your lips when he felt your hole squeeze his cock, an indication that you were enjoying yourself.

Reed’s hips started to move faster, the sound of his pelvis slapping against your cheeks were filling up the room alongside your combined moans and grunts.

Reed readjusted your positions with your legs hooked over his waist as he pounded into you, his hands fondling your chest.

“Daddy, make it bigger.” You begged, making Reed grin as he slowly expanded his cock into you. He was filling you up, testing how much your hole can adjust with the size of his girth.

Reed sighed, closing his eyes at how good you felt around him. “You’re doing so good at taking me in, baby.”

Reed twisted the nubs of your nipples with his fingers, causing you to arch your back into his grip and squeezing your hole around his cock.

Reed groaned, slowly thrusting into you and repeating the actions so you were basically squeezing yourself around him.

“Daddy, I’m close again.” You panted out, your hands wrapping themselves around his wrists as he continued to fondle your chest.

Reed thrusted harder, causing you to whine out at the overwhelming feeling of having your erogenous zones played with all at once.

When you came the second time, Reed immediately spilled his seed into you with a guttural groan when your hole squeezed his cock so tightly that he was seeing stars.

Reed felt himself go limp, slowly leaning his body down on top of yours. He nosed against the hinge of your jaw, breathing heavily against your skin while your fingers played with the curls on back of his head.

“You okay, Reed?” You panted out, getting a hum in response.

Reed kissed your chin, smiling at how sweet you were with him. “I’m absolutely fine, darling. I was just resting.”

“Were you really that pent up? We don’t have sex all the time and you usually seem fine.” You replied to Reed.

Reed huffed, pouting at you as he rested his chin on your chest while you continued to stroke his hair. “I missed you darling, I couldn’t function normally without you. I suppose having you constantly by my side has made me quite dependent on you.”

“Are you suggesting we have more time apart then?” You asked Reed with a teasing smile.

Reed scowled at you, burrowing his face to your chest. “Absolutely not.”

You flinched, letting out a breathy laugh. “Reed be careful, you’re still inside me.”

“Maybe I should just stay inside you so won’t leave me again.” Reed retorted, getting an eye roll from you in response.

You flicked his forehead and tutted. “Absolutely not, Reed Nathaniel Richards. We are not going to be that kind of couple.”

“Of course, darling.” Reed chuckled, kissing the bottom of your jaw in apology before sighing sadly. “I have to say, you coming home early did put a damper on my plans.”

“What were you planning?” You asked Reed.

Reed smiled sheepishly at you. “I wanted to surprise you with a date and get you gifts since you’ve done so much for me. I feel as though I have been lacking in flaunting my love for you.”

Your eyes widened for a second before you started to laugh, quickly calming down as you stroked Reed cheekbone with your thumb.

“Reed, you are the most romantic man I’ve ever met in my life.” You told Reed.

Reed frowned. “You know other romantic men?”

“My love, focus.” You flicked Reed’s temple, getting a small wince in response.

You shook your head fondly. “You’ve done so much for me. You are one of the most brilliant minds this planet has to offer and I feel so lucky to be around you everyday.”

Reed felt the side of his mouth twitch in response, his heart growing a couple of sizes at your words.

You chuckled. “And you were my first. My first kiss, first time and first love. I’m hoping you’ll be my last love as well, I don’t think I could live without you if we ever broke up.”

“We won’t. You are my whole world, I could never let you go.” Reed insisted, making you smile softly at him before you tugged on him so he could come up to kiss you.

The both of you sharing a sweet kiss, layered with a lifetime of love and happiness with each other.

“Let’s just do all the plans you wanted to do tomorrow. I would love to see what you came up with.” You told Reed after breaking the kiss.

Reed smiled down at you. “Whatever you say, darling.”

You patted Reed’s cheek affectionately before sighing. “Are you gonna pull out of me now?”

“I’ll think about it.” Reed mused, making you huff out a laugh before he claimed your lips with his again.

It was safe to say, he loved you all night long.

*****

Author’s note:

Hi! This has been in my drafts for MONTHS, I can’t believe I actually managed to finish this with a somewhat proper ending

MCU Reed is literally one of my favourite characters and it has been a blast figuring out how to write him and his character more romantically

I can’t believe this is only my second Reed fic that I’ve put out! I feel like I should have been writing more but I’ll get to it once my brain can think of something teehee :p

You looked up from your desk to see your sister, Sharon, walk up to you with a smile on her face that you returned.

You sighed, putting aside your task of looking through a list of books for the library, turning your full attention to Sharon. “Hello older sister who bullies me.”

“You gonna tattle to mom?” Sharon challenged you, making you chuckle.

You hummed. “Maybe dad.”

Sharon playfully gasped before settling in front of you desk with a smirk on her face. “So are you going to the faculty outing tonight?”

“I’m still deciding, I mean a karaoke bar sounds like fun but you know I don’t drink or sing.” You chuckled.

Sharon laughed. “That’s true but it doesn’t hurt to go out and have some fun. Come on, I’ll be there too and a little birdy told me, Steve might come along too if you’re there.”

“Mr Rogers? What does that have to do with me?” You asked Sharon in confusion, getting a surprised look in return.

Sharon squinted at you suspiciously. “Because he has a fat massive crush on you?”

“That’s just simply untrue.” You shook your head at Sharon, scoffing at her claims.

Sharon rolled her eyes. “Oh my god, my brother’s an oblivious idiot.”

“Okay, rude.” You pouted at her. “I think I would know if someone was showing interest in me.”

Sharon scoffed. “Obviously not, the man literally comes in here everyday to see you.”

“He comes in here to borrow books for his class,” You retorted. “I hardly count that as liking someone when you’re doing your job.”

“He’s an art teacher. What books does he need to show his students?” Sharon questioned you, making you roll your eyes at her.

You sighed. “Mr Rogers borrows books on the fundamentals of sketching and drawing, these books help his students out a lot. Sometimes he’ll ask me about certain books that we don’t have readily available so I’d pre-order some for future use.”

“And you don’t feel anything down there when he’s being a complete sweetheart for his students? I mean he’s also built like a greek god under all those layers.” Sharon persisted, making you shake your head at how wild your sister was being especially in such a public space.

You let out a calming breath, relaxing your shoulders. “I really don’t want to know how you know all that about Mr Rogers but we’re in a school so let’s pipe down a little before others hear you.”

“Ugh, you’re such a boring geek. I can’t believe we’re related.” Sharon whined at you.

You fixed her with a look of disdain, your voice flat as you responded to her. “You teach Math, you’re a much bigger geek than I am.”

Sharon scoffed before standing still when she turned her head towards the entrance of the school’s library, a slow smile forming on her face as she turned back to you with bright eyes. “Okay, you’re gonna go out tonight to that karaoke bar with me and I’m gonna dress you in the skimpiest outfit I can find in your closet.”

“Sharon!” You whispered her name angrily, your sister just ignoring you as she walked away. You huffed unhappily as you sat back in your seat, your hands covering your eyes for a second before flinching when someone cleared their throat in front of you.

“Oh, Mr Rogers.” You heaved a sigh of relief as you straightened yourself out before leaning forward on your desk with a smile aimed at Steve, who had a sheepish smile on his face.

Steve’s eyes glanced at the door for a second before going back to you. “Hey, you doing alright? You seemed a little stressed out.”

“Oh don’t mind me,” You chuckled. “I just dealt with a harpy, I call my dear sister.”

“Sounded like a tough battle.” Steve replied, raising his eyebrows with a small smile on his face.

You shrugged with a grin. “All in a day’s work as a librarian. So, how can I help you today? Any books that you’re interested in checking?”

Steve scratched the back of his neck, suddenly looking smaller even though he was practically a giant, almost trying to hide himself under the multiple layers of clothing he had on.

You wonder if it’s an artist thing.

You tilt your head in silent question, patiently waiting for Steve to say something.

Steve cleared his throat. “So there’s the faculty party tonight at the karaoke bar, I was wondering if you were going.”

“Oh,” You replied dumbly, not expecting Steve to mention anything about the faculty party. “I wasn’t sure but my sister insisted so I practically don’t have a choice. How about you?”

Something shifted in Steve, his timid energy suddenly replaced with excitement, his eyes practically lighting up. “That’s great, I’m going too! Do you two need a ride? I can pick you up.”

“That sounds great actually, do you wanna exchange numbers? I’ll send you my address later.” You replied, seeing Steve nod happily as he immediately went to get his phone out of his jeans.

You watched as Steve struggled to take his phone out, muttering something about tight jeans before successfully pulling his phone out with a winning grin.

You pursed your lips , trying to hold in your laughter at how goofy Steve was being.

Steve hands his phone to you, still smiling and you quickly put your number in before handing his phone back to him.

Your fingers brushed against his and you felt the familiar spark between the both of you that you were going to ignore, it had happened way too many times especially when you pass him the books he asked for.

You wonder if you’ve been dragging your feet too much on the carpet.

“You know, you could’ve just put your number down in my phone and I could’ve just texted you.” You informed Steve, watching as the man’s eyes widened before the sheepish smile on his face returned.

Steve cleared his throat. “That would’ve been less embarrassing than whatever I just did.”

“Probably, I guess I’ll see you at my apartment tonight?” You asked Steve, getting a nod in reply.

Steve waved his phone at you, slowly backing away. “I’ll text you so you’ll know it’s me.”

You waved goodbye to Steve as you turned your attention back to the work on your desk before feeling your phone vibrate in your pocket.

You smiled reading Steve’s message, which was just him saying hello with a smiley face next to it. You quickly saved his number into your contacts, replying with your own hello before refocusing on your main task.

You weren’t really sure why but you suddenly felt excited for the night.

~~~~~

“Could you please put your phone down and focus? You need to look hot tonight.”

You sheepishly put your phone away on your bed, turning your attention fully to Sharon. Your sister holding out another one of your button downs with a disgruntled look on her face.

“Who are you texting in the middle of this?” Sharon asked you as she put the shirt aside to look for more.

You sat up straight on your bed, trying your best to ignore your phone when it vibrated next to you. “Oh nobody, it was just Steve.”

“Did something happen? I can call a cab if he can’t get us.” Sharon replied, looking curiously at a shirt that you didn’t even realise you had.

You shook your head. “Nope, Steve’s still fetching us. He was just texting about something that happened in class.”

That made Sharon pause, turning her head toward you with interest. “Hold on, the both of you are now doing casual texts right after exchanging numbers?”

“I mean it’s not that big of a deal plus Steve’s funny, he also sent me a video about an art exhibition and asked if I was interested in going.” You shrugged, eyeing the shirt in Sharon’s hand.

It was a blue long sleeved henley that you bought once out of curiosity but never really bothered to wear since you were comfortable in your every day button downs and wooly sweaters.

Sharon passed the shirt to you along with a pair of jeans. “Here, this is the only thing from your closet that’s sexy. Pair it up with these jeans since they make your ass look big.”

“I’m gonna ignore that last sentence but thanks, I’ll change now. Steve said he’ll be here in an hour.” You told Sharon, getting a nod in response.

Sharon sighed. “Well it’s time for me to change and look hot enough to get us free drinks from the bar with these bad boys.”

You rolled your eyes when your sister pointed at her chest, laughing along with her before she disappeared into her own room in your shared apartment.

You looked at your outfit with newfound interest, time to be different for one night.

~~~~~

“Earth to Steve?”

Steve blinked in surprise, turning his head to Sharon who was looking at him with an evil smile on her face.

You, Steve and Sharon had arrived at the bar together. Steve had made himself a bumbling fool earlier once he saw you walk out in your outfit, not expecting to see more skin since you always wore button downs and sweaters.

Steve even blushed when you complimented him on his outfit, he was wearing a black denim jacket over a white fitting henley with blue jeans.

Steve even opened the door for you to get into his car before stumbling to the back to open it for Sharon so it didn’t look like he was doing it just for you.

Now, he was at the bar trying to get drinks with Sharon while you were at a table waiting.

Steve cleared his throat. “Sorry, Sharon. Guess my mind’s a bit preoccupied.”

“Preoccupied because my dress looks nice or because you’ve been thinking about my brother’s ass in those jeans?” Sharon asked, making Steve cough in surprise by her bluntness.

Steve shook his head, feeling his face heat up. “I wasn’t thinking about his ass.”

“Sure,” Sharon rolled her eyes at him before turning to the bartender. “A water and one gin and tonic, please. How about you Steve?”

“Just a water for me too, thank you.” Steve smiled to the bartender, opting to not drink since he was driving.

Sharon glanced to the table where you were sitting at, you were innocently looking through your phone while another teacher from the faculty stepped up to the mic stand to sing a song.

“You should really be thanking me Steve,” Sharon said getting a confused look from the other man. “I got my little brother in those clothes just for you to ogle, can you actually believe he argued with me about wanting to wear one of his cardigans.”

“I think he looks nice in his sweaters and cardigans.” Steve defended you, getting an amused chuckle out of Sharon.

Sharon smiled. “Of course you would. Are you gonna a make move on him tonight? I think some of the other teachers are making eyes at him.”

Steve raised his eyebrows, looking back around the room and realised that Sharon was right. Some of his fellow colleagues were not so subtly looking at you while you were oblivious to your phone, it made his stomach churn.

“God, I don’t know Sharon. I’m not even sure he feels the same way about me.” Steve worried his bottom lip.

Sharon gave him a sympathetic smile. “My brother can be a little oblivious but you should know that while I was trying to find him an outfit to wear tonight, he was distracted on his phone because you were texting him all day.”

“That doesn’t really mean anything.” Steve said with a nervous laugh.

Sharon shrugged. “I know my brother. He’s not one to start anything without seeing some sort interest from the other party, so I suggest you start making yourself obvious tonight because a text about going to an art exhibition isn’t enough.”

Steve nodded, swallowing down his self-doubts before making his way back to the table with Sharon.

Sharon nudged Steve to slip into the booth’s seat next to you, claiming that she deserved her own space.

Steve gave her an annoyed glance but she ignored him, turning her attention towards you instead.

“So why are you burying your face into your phone instead of enjoying drunk people singing?” Sharon drawled out, passing the cup of water to you.

You nodded your thanks before showing her your phone. “I was just checking out the art exhibition that Steve mentioned, looks really good.”

Steve blinked in surprise when you turned to him with a small smile, your eyes dropping to the water in his hand.

“You’re not drinking?” You tilted your head in confusion.

Steve shrugged. “I don’t really drink plus I’m the one driving tonight.”

“Oh, ditto except the driving. I can’t drive for shit.” You pouted and Steve resisted the urge to poke your cheek at how cute you were being.

Sharon giggled. “Our dad tried to teach him, we lost our mailbox. Dad then announced that he won’t be continuing since he feared for his life the entire time.”

“Sharon!” You whined, your cheeks tinting with red at being called out.

Steve smiled. “I can teach you one day, we’ll park somewhere at an empty parking lot so you won’t have to worry.”

“You will?” You looked at Steve, your eyes rounding and your lips pouting.

Steve unconsciously leaned forward. “Of course, anything for you.”

“Your funeral.” Sharon commented, breaking the moment with another evil smile on her face before whipping her head when her name was called upfront to sing a song.

“Sorry,” You said, making Steve turn to you. “She definitely can’t handle her liquor but I guess that’s what makes her the life of the party.”

Sharon then started singing a very badly rendition of Landslide, Steve grimacing before turning to you to see a similar expression on your face.

“You weren’t kidding about the harpy.” Steve joked, making you laugh before you tapped your phone again to show him the art exhibition’s website.

You grinned. “So, what’s the plan? Seems like we’d need to book the tickets soon or else they’ll get sold out.”

“I was thinking we could make it a trip,” Steve replied, seeing your head tilt in interest. “It’s a few cities over but we could probably make-do with my car and book a hotel room to stay for the night after the exhibition.”

You hummed, turning your head to the stage to watch Sharon start another song. “I guess it wouldn’t be that bad but Sharon would probably want her own room.”

“Oh,” Steve felt his heart drop to his stomach. “I was thinking maybe it was just going to be the two of us. I mean if you want your sister to tag along then I’m not gonna fight you on that.”

Steve watched as something changed in your face, your eyes dropped once to his lips before meeting his gaze straight on.

It made Steve gulp at finally getting your full attention on him.

“You know Steve, my sister said something funny earlier in the day and I didn’t believe her. Right now though, you’re swaying my thoughts on that matter.” You told him, mindlessly reaching out to tug on the sleeve of Steve’s jacket.

Steve felt nervous. “I did?”

You smiled, opening your mouth to say something before getting interrupted by Sharon when she suddenly shouted for Steve to come up on stage.

Steve turned his head in surprise, his eyes widening before waving his arms to say no but Sharon kept calling out his name, which created a tiny chant from his inebriated colleagues as well.

Steve looked back at you to see a small smirk on your face before you tilted your head towards the direction of the stage, cocking an eyebrow at him.

A silent challenge.

Steve chuckled before he stood up and walked up to the stage, walking past all of his colleagues that were cheering him on.

“What will it be?” The man at the booth asked Steve, making him think for a bit before he remembered Sharon’s words to make his feelings obvious to you.

Steve grinned before whispering to the man, getting a nod of approval before he stood at the front of the stage.

Steve’s eyes find yours as the backing track of Bill Withers’ “Just The Two Of Us” starts playing and Steve starts singing.

Steve’s grin grew bigger when he saw your eyes widened in surprise by the song choice. Sharon was next to you, slapping your arm and pointing at Steve on the stage.

Steve’s nervousness went completely out of the window once he saw your smile softened, your eyes almost staring adoringly at him. It made his stomach do somersaults.

When the song ended, Steve hurried back to the table but was confused to find you missing. Sharon pointed to the back of the bar and his eyebrows shot up seeing you standing next to a photo booth that he didn’t notice the first time he went in.

You waved at him, nodding your head towards the photo booth. Steve licked his lips in anticipation before walked up to you.

“Hi.” Steve greeted you, a little breathless after singing.

You smiled, pushing the curtain of photo booth open. “Hi, I liked the song. Do you wanna commemorate your performance by taking a few pictures with me?”

“Absolutely.” Steve agreed, stepping in first to sit on the questionably sized seat in the photo booth.

You smirked seeing him settle on the seat. “Looks like it’s a tight spot, you mind if I sat on your lap?”

“Oh!” Steve exclaimed, feeling his face heat up before nodding. “I don’t mind.”

You carefully placed yourself on Steve’s lap, putting an arm over his broad shoulders and leaned forward to tap on the screen to look at options.

Steve watched the side of your face the entire time, almost wanting to pinch himself at having you so close to him. You smelled even better up close and he resisted the urge to bury his face in your neck.

You readjusted on his lap once you were satisfied with the option that you found. Steve gulped, hoping he doesn’t embarrass himself with how much you were moving.

Steve thought this was going to be a little cute moment but now he was fighting for his life to not sport a semi while you were sitting on his lap.

You and Steve posed with big smiles as the first flash goes off before you turned to Steve with a smirk on your face.

Steve cocked an eyebrow at you. “Something wrong?”

The second flash goes off in the background, Steve sees your head tilt in curiosity before his eyes widened when your fingers slowly caress his beard.

Steve realises he wants you to do that to him for the rest of your lives.

“So you like me?” You asked, biting down on your lip as Steve’s eyes dropped down to your plump lips from the biting.

Steve huffed out a laugh, his hand squeezing your thigh. “I mean I wasn’t really being subtle about it by visiting you almost everyday at the library but yes, I really do.”

The third flash goes off, Steve sees your smile widened before you leaned your face closer to his.

“Kiss me?” You sweetly asked him.

Steve felt his breath hitch before he nodded nervously, gulping down his self-doubts for the last time before connecting his lips with yours.

The fourth and final flash goes off in the booth and Steve couldn’t help but think that this was the perfect first kiss he’s ever had and he just can’t believe it was with you.

~~~~~

“You sure you don’t want me to take over the wheel for a bit?”

Steve felt a shiver run down his spine as he turned to you with what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “No baby, I’m good I swear.”

Steve reached a hand out to brush his thumb over your cheek when you pouted and crossed your arms, turning away from him slightly.

You and Steve finally managed to snag the tickets to the art exhibition and were currently in Steve’s car on the way to the destination.

As much as Steve was happy that you cared a lot about him to want to drive, he was still unsure if you could handle it after a couple of lessons on the weekends.

Steve adored you a ton, he just didn’t think your driving skills were up to par for a long distance trip.

“Hey, don’t pout. You know I can’t resist kissing you when you do that and I’m driving so I want to focus on the road for our safety.” Steve tried consoling you.

You turned your head towards the window and let out a huff. “Then don’t look at me.”

“Baby,” Steve tried again, blindly grabbing your hand before pulling it up to his mouth for a kiss. “I know you’re getting better at driving but this is a very long drive and you haven’t gotten your license yet. We could get into some legal trouble and miss the exhibition entirely.”

Steve felt you tighten your hold on his hand, resting your joined hands on your lap while you turned your head to glance at him before rolling your eyes.

Steve smirked, he knew that he had won.

“Fine,” You dragged the word out before chuckling. “You’re always so persuasive.”

“I can show you how much more persuasive I can get once we’re alone in our hotel room.” Steve teased you, making you let go of his hand to slap him on the shoulder.

Steve moved his hand to your thigh.

You shook your head fondly at him. “You are ravenous, Rogers.”

“Should’ve thought of that before you let me kiss you in that photo booth. Now I can’t help but want more of you.” Steve said, his hand squeezing your thigh before laughing when you slapped it away.

Steve hummed happily when you reached out to caress his beard instead. “Be good, Rogers. I’ll let you play with me however you want once we reach our hotel.”

“Tease.” Steve pouted at you, glancing at you once before focusing on the road again.

You took Steve’s hand into yours, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles as you laughed. “You love it.”

“Maybe, I do.” Steve felt his mouth twitch.

The both of you happily talked the rest of the ride over, whether it was about your jobs at school and the children or just what crazy text Sharon decided to send you for going off on a couple’s retreat while she stayed home.

Steve wouldn’t have it any other way, excited to explore his life with you now by his side.

*****

Author’s note:

Trying a new AU with Steve, I think this would be a fun series to explore and expand if time permits me