#river x reader

River’s grip on your thighs tightened as he lifted you effortlessly, his strength sending a thrill through your body. Your breath hitched when he carried you out of the kitchen, his lips never straying far from yours. Each kiss was slow and deep, filled with a hunger that sent fire curling low in your belly.

The moment your back met the plush cushions of the couch, he was on you—his weight pressing you down in the most delicious way. His hands roamed, teasing, exploring, setting your skin alight with every brush of his fingertips. He kissed down your jaw, his lips leaving a trail of heat along your throat, pausing to suck gently at the sensitive spot just below your ear. You gasped, arching into him, and his low chuckle vibrated against your skin.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire, as his lips trailed down your neck.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as his hands slipped beneath your sweater, pushing it up inch by inch. When his lips found the newly exposed skin of your stomach, a shiver ran through you. You felt drunk on him—on his scent, his taste, the way he touched you like he already knew every one of your secrets.

He pulled back just long enough to yank your sweater over your head, his eyes darkening as he took you in. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, fingers tracing the edge of your bra before slipping beneath the strap to push it aside. His mouth followed, warm and wet, teasing in a way that had you whimpering his name.

Your hands moved with a mind of their own, working open the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel him—skin to skin, heat against heat. The fabric was forgotten as your palms slid down his toned chest, tracing the defined lines of muscle. His breath hitched when your nails raked lightly across his stomach, his restraint fraying at the edges.

His knee pressed between your thighs, parting them, making space for him as he settled against you. You gasped when he ground against you, the friction exquisite. You could feel the heat of his palm as it skimmed lower, teasing, taunting. His lips found yours again, the kiss deep and consuming, stealing your breath as he rolled his hips, dragging another moan from you.

“I need—” you started, but your words were swallowed by another kiss, this one almost desperate.

“I got you, beautiful.” His voice was low, rough. He pulled back slightly, kneeling between your legs, watching you—his gaze impossibly dark.

“Tell me you want this,” he groaned, his fingers running lightly over your core.

You squirmed under his touch, nodding, but it wasn’t enough.

“I need to hear you,” he said, his voice a rough demand. His fingers swirled, too lightly, teasing. “I want to hear just how much you need me.”

“Please, River. I need you,” you whispered, the words spilling from your lips, a plea laced with desperate longing.

He let out a low curse, his grip tightening as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your trousers and underwear, stripping them away in one swift movement.

“Christ,” he rasped, eyes locked onto you. “So wet for me already.”

A strangled cry escaped your lips as he pressed heated kisses into your trembling thighs. The pleasure was too much, too intense. Gods. Your body bucked against him, but his hand pressed firmly against your hip, holding you in place as his other pried your legs open, exposing you to his gaze.

“Ready?” he murmured.

You nodded, but this time, he didn’t ask for words. Instead, he dragged the flat of his tongue through your slick before wrapping his lips around your clit.

A delicate cry poured from you as his tongue delved into your folds, swirling, teasing, building. His mouth moved with practiced precision, alternating between slow, deliberate strokes and sharp flicks that sent jolts of pleasure racing through you.

One of his arms curled around your upper thigh, his palm pressing against your hip to keep you still as he worked you open. Your eyes slammed shut as another wave of pleasure crashed over you, your fingers tangling in cushions as he found the exact rhythm that made you cry out his name.

River smirked against you, repeating the motion, over and over, until it became effortless, until your body was trembling beneath him, a writhing mess. His own moan vibrated against your sensitive flesh when your legs locked around his head, pulling him closer.

Your body curled into itself as his middle finger slipped inside you, slow, deliberate, stretching you open. You had touched yourself before, chased pleasure with your own fingers, but it had never felt like this. His digit explored, teased, pushing deeper, curling just right—

River grunted, his eyes dark with hunger as he plunged into your wet heat, reveling in the way you gripped him. “So tight,” he murmured, his voice almost reverent.

He worked you open with steady strokes, his thumb finding your clit, circling, pressing, coaxing you closer to the edge. When his fingers found that perfect spot inside you, your whole body shuddered, pleasure crashing through you in waves.

You were so close—too close. It was overwhelming, consuming, but you didn’t want it to stop.

He felt it too. He could see it in the way your body clenched around him, in the way your breath hitched, your moans breaking into desperate gasps. His mouth returned to your core, his tongue dragging through your slick heat, drinking you in, his stubble a delicious burn against your sensitive skin.

His fingers curled again, his pace relentless, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

And when he finally pushed you over the edge, the pleasure hit you all at once—blinding, consuming, shattering you into pieces as River held you through it, his own groan vibrating against your trembling body.

“Please, River... I need more,” you whispered, voice trembling.

“I know,” he murmured, his voice hushed, rough with desire, his lips still glistening from you. “But... I didn’t bring anything.”

A sharp pang of longing shot through you, your heart hammering in your chest as his words lingered, heavy with meaning. His eyes searched your face, brows furrowed in hesitation, but there was an unmistakable tension in his gaze. “I can run to the shops and grab some—if you still want this.”

You swallowed hard, your body aching with need, every nerve on fire. There was no hesitation in your voice when you breathed out, “I do.”

A flicker of a smile danced across River’s lips, the warmth of it causing something deep inside you to stir. His thumb brushed over your cheek, slow and tender. “I’ll be back in ten. Get yourself comfy, and I’ll be right back.”

He pressed a lingering, electrifying kiss against your lips before pulling away, reaching for his jacket. The way his body moved—his jeans hugging his form, the lean strength in his shoulders—sent a shiver down your spine. As he stepped toward the door, the hard outline of his cock was just visible, straining underneath the tight material. You giggled softly, a mix of disbelief and anticipation. This all felt too surreal, too intoxicating.

Your skin burned, your body boneless with the aftershocks of your soul shattering orgasm, but there was a deep hunger that still thrummed beneath your ribs. You were sure you looked like a mess, but the thought barely registered. You just wanted this. No you needed this. With a quick tug, you pulled up your jeans, wincing at the cool dampness between your thighs. It felt pointless to change—maybe he’d take it as a challenge and do it all over again. You hoped he would. His tongue and finger were definitely skilled. 

Maybe you should strip now, just in case, it would save time.

Just then, the doorbell chimed. Your heart leapt.

"You're back already...?" you murmured, almost laughing, he must has all but sprinted to the shop.

But before you could even make it to the door, it swung open with force.

“Wait—don’t freak out!” Louisa burst into the room, her voice laced with urgency, her eyes wide as she took in your disheveled state. She paused, eyes narrowing as she processed the scene, her expression shifting from concern to exasperation, face twisting behind her looking down the hallway hesitantly. 

You froze, your pulse racing, irritation bubbling up at the sudden interruption. “What? How the fuck did you…” you snapped, reeling back slightly.

She ran a hand through her coarse curlsr, exhaling sharply. “Okay, yeah, I know how this looks,” she began, her gaze flickering nervously to the door River had just exited. “But you need to listen to me. River…he’s not well… he’s dangerous. You need to listen to me…”

I am so sorry for the wait. This chapter has really stumped me and I could not figure our how to do this. I hope you liked it.

River hums, a tight smile on her face. "Yeah, baby. It doesn't look too hard. That'll be great."

Jade giggles and marks down the page number, already a small list of ideas on her pad of paper, her legs swinging.

Despite her smile, River can't help but think of how she wants more for her little girl. How she hates that Jade already knows they have to cut costs like this. Maybe if she pushed down her ego that told her she can do it all alone, without a cent of Silas' dirty money. River shakes her head, willing those thoughts out. She focuses on the pride blooming in her chest that Jade's still so happy and content with homemade efforts. She's raised a smart, kind, and wonderful girl. God, she can't even believe her baby's turning six in a week.

"You wanna help me?" she asks, poking Jade's cheek, who has now moved on to the section about invitation cards.

"Of course!"

This is when you walk in, joining them on the couch. You were busy preparing dinner so you didn't catch the full conversation, but the apartment's small enough where you could catch bits and pieces even without eavesdropping. Before you have a chance to tell them the food's ready, Jade shoves the book in your hands.

"You can pick one! I like this and this and-" Jade's pointing all over the place, choosing invitation cards she likes the look of seemingly by random if you didn't know her well. Luckily, you've had the chance to. Under River's upbringing and her own endless curiosity, Jade loves so many things it's hard to think of one straightforward theme. She loves her monster trucks as much as her stuffed puppy, as much as the manga the older kids in the apartment complex show her, as much as nature and princesses and scary stories.

"Woah, woah, slow your roll, kiddo." You wipe your hands on the apron before putting your hands on the book, knowing you'd get glares if you greased it up. "What's this about a party? I thought you didn't want to do a big one," you question.

"She doesn't. Says she'd be alright if it was just the three of us sharing pizzas and watching TV," River answers, to which Jade nods. "But Jade's in school now, you know? All the other moms already side-eye me for having her so young. I don't wanna give them more ammo, or make them tell their kids not to hang out with Jade anymore."

River has complained to you extensively before about the mom politics going on. Invite someone's kid to a party and they don't invite your kid back? Consider yourself dead to everyone. Couldn't bring muffins to their stupid bake sale? Worst mom ever award.

"I want Jade to have fun with her friends and not worry about being teased about not having a huge unicorn cake, or whatever. So..." River gestures to the book pressed into your hands, and you note all the marked pages of ideas.

You know the deeper reason too. How deep down, River wants better for Jade than what she had, never wants her to feel like she's going without. She wants Jade to feel like the other kids. To be able to stay a kid for longer, not cutting back on the toys she asks for just because you two are going from paycheck to paycheck. That's your responsibility as the adults. She shouldn't have to worry, shouldn't be punished for being born River's kid. It's something you've assured River about over and over again, that Jade's lucky to be hers and that the little girl knows it. But you can understand that wish too. Jade's such a sweetie. If any kid deserves to feel special on their birthday and get everything they ask for, it's her.

So it's no surprise that River isn't sold on the whole DIY party vibe. Resourceful is one thing, but she hates feeling cheap. Hates asking for or needing cash. She'll let go of her pride if the situation gets tough, but damn does she hate when people assume she can't take care of her girl.

"Hey, Jadey?" you ask, scooching down to address her directly. The two of you have agreed to not talk about money problems in front of her, so you know she should be far away for this discussion. "Can you go to the kitchen and turn the stove off? And when you're done, how about you write down all your friends' names that you want there, and draw them all a special invitation?"

Jade perks up at the request, liking to go on 'special missions' to help you or River. She likes the responsibility, likes that her favourite people can rely on her. It's part of what makes her such a good kid. "OK! Here!" As she hops off of the couch, she hands you the book. "They're gonna be the best pictures ever!"

"Don't come back too soon, OK? We're gonna come up with lots of ideas to surprise you!" you call out.

You turn to River, who shoves the book aside, frustrated. "Fuck. I don't wanna be a wimp about this, honestly. Or make it all about me."

"Hey." Your hand goes to her shoulder, rubbing right where she always seems to get tense. "It's fine. It's your first time living too. Or whatever the phrase is."

"It's just- I would've done anything as a kid to have had a birthday party," she shares, shaking her head like she thinks she's being ridiculous. But River does melt into your touch, letting you start to rub up, getting to the junction where her neck meets her shoulder. "This sucks to say, but I was always too ashamed to take any of my friends back home. I'm grateful for it now, but it was tiny and it smelled and I knew it. Didn't want them to give me shit for it."

Listening intently, your fingers trail over her shoulders as River sits up and tugs her knees to her chest. "And I didn't wanna hassle my mom. She was already doing so much to take care of me and put food on the table," River tells you. "My friends invited me to ones with the fancy custom cakes and the goody bags filled with toys and snacks, you know? The parties where the kids get to wear crowns and the parents take a million photos. My mom couldn't afford to take a day off of work, and I didn't have enough allowance to buy a gift anyways. So I never went to any."

And you can understand that. It's not like being a loner is always a choice. Sometimes you know that even if you try your best, you won't fit in, so why try? Pretend it's a choice. Pretend you're above it all, too cool for it, when all you really want to do is have fun with everyone.

"She's turning six. We could turn a sprinkler on and call it a water park and the kids would scream and laugh more than at some expensive party," you say. They're easy to impress at that age, at least in your own memory of being a kid.

River shakes her head. She wraps her arms around her knees tighter, resting her chin on them. "A water park? Really? She's six. She wants a real party with her friends, not just an excuse to run around like crazy. And it's not like we have a backyard for them to run in anyways." Something in her throat trembles, and it makes her voice rise with frustration. "I want to give her something special, y'know? I want her to feel like a princess for a day, not a charity case. Throwing around some paper decorations isn't gonna make the apartment bigger."

You know that tone, and you want Jade to have the very best too, so you fix on a more serious face, not wanting your girlfriend to feel like she's alone in this. "Fine. OK, so what's... special but free? Botanical gardens? Beach?" you start to pitch and brainstorm. "What's the best space to pizzazz with these paper flowers that Jade's gonna kick ass at making?"

When your hand reaches her ear, she just melts. It's a soothing gesture that helps when River gets these horrific stress migraines, pinching and rubbing along the lobe to coax blood flow. River thinks for a moment, considering those suggestions. "Yeah, the beach could work," River says slowly, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Jade loves the water, and I know her friends would have a blast playing in the waves."

"We'd keep an eye on them the whole time obviously," you add. "Section off an area just for the party, probably with whatever decorations Jade's picked.

More on board with the crafts now that they have a space in mind, she hands you the list of ideas Jade already jotted down. "Here. If you can read her handwriting."

Just like Jade's interests, her ideas are all over the place. Not that you don't appreciate her creative process, but cowboys, aliens, and dragons don't sound very beachy. There are pages that she scrawled down that go together though. The foam sword, the paper pirate hat, and a treasure map. You'll pour coffee on it, crumple it a little, and singe the edges with a lighter to make it look authentic. A pirate theme sounds like the ideal way to make everything cohesive, especially since it'll keep the kids entertained so no one goes home complaining to their parents.

"It could be like a scavenger hunt," River says. She's been steadily getting into the whole idea, pitching all sorts of ideas to make Jade's special day great. "Kills two birds with one stone. The map is something they actually use instead of a set piece and we'll know where they are when they run around. Make sure they stay where we can see 'em.

"Yeah, I like that! When I was a kid, I read these Skullduggery books and was like, damn, imagine digging something up. Me and my siblings buried this time capsule at the beach, but I'm pretty sure it just got swept away by the waves."

"You shoulda dug deeper," River teases, but pecks your lips when you pout at the memory. "OK, so that's settled for the main activity. What can we put in the chest that won't break the bank?"

Chocolate coins, obviously. The two of you take turns listing out treasures that you'd find for cheap, like candy necklaces and plastic swords that will be sturdier than the foam ones. Eyepatches are a must too. Plastic telescopes and octopus pop-its.

River writes down a note that Jade could make her friends a custom friendship bracelet to thank them for coming and commemorate the occasion. Plus, it would get that rainbow loom set you two bought her out of the storage. Jade went on a bracelet-making kick two months ago but got bored, so now you've got all these extra loom bands around.

The two of you get to throwing around food ideas (you, personally, wanna serve chicken nuggets but brand them as 'gold nuggets') when Jade comes out of her room.

"Ta-da!" the girl says, holding out her birthday invitations. All told, there are seven, with radically different drawings attached. There's a horse (which looks like a giraffe with the neck honestly), a robot, a ballet dancer... "I've got six best best friends, so they've all gotta come. Mackenzie's got a little brother that should probably come too since they're always together, so I made him a smaller one."

"It's very sweet of you to think of your friend's brother." River shoots you a look as she says this, since Jade has been very fixated on siblings ever since you moved in. You shrug. You're not opposed to the idea but babies are expensive so the conversation has never gone longer than "that'd be cool!"

"These are awesome, kiddo! Think you could add something to each of 'em? Me and your mama thought a theme would make your birthday even cooler," you say.

"A theme? Oh, what is it, what is it?" Jade's already got her crayons in hand, ready to add to her masterpieces depending on your next words.

"Mmm, let's just say that you could be a mermaid, or have a peg-leg, but you can't turn up as a land-lubber." You cringe as soon as you're done saying it (you had been writing clue ideas for the scavenger hunt for the last ten minutes, OK?), but it makes River laugh so it's worth it.

"Pirates?!" You think the windows might shatter, that's how loud Jade's shriek is.

"Hell yeah, baby girl!" River says. "You like it?"

"I love it! Thank you so so much!" Jade leaps between you two, her tiny arms trying their best to wrap around and hug you both at the same time.

Upon seeing River's excitement as she shows Jade the list of ideas you two came up with, you can't help but smile. Your two favourite girls in the world are so hyped now that they're not even thinking about the cost, which was what you've wanted from the start. Jade pores over the list, nodding and adding little notes to the margins. There needs to be vegetarian options for her friend, Priya, for example, and she doesn't want it soooo different from the other food that Priya feels like she's missing out.

The kitchen smelled like coffee, the rich scent hanging in the air, but it was the tremble in your hands that gave you away. You tried to steady yourself as you poured water into the kettle, but the nerves had already taken hold. It wasn’t like you hadn’t done this a hundred times before, but tonight... tonight felt different. Your mind raced, your heart hammered in your chest, and no amount of deep breaths could calm the flutter in your stomach.

You wanted him. That much was undeniable. But there was still a part of you, a small voice in the back of your mind, that told you to slow down, to play it cool. After all, you weren’t the type of girl to jump into anything on the first date but this felt different. As you fumbled with the coffee grounds, a soft sound from behind you made your breath catch. Before you could turn around, you felt him there, close, his body radiating warmth as he stood just behind you.

The kitchen seemed smaller now, the warm light casting long shadows that danced on the walls. Your pulse raced in your ears, each beat louder than the last as you tried to focus on the simple task of preparing coffee. But every movement felt weighted, every breath shallow. River’s presence behind you was impossible to ignore—a quiet force that drew your attention like gravity.

You fidgeted with the kettle, your fingers lingering over the handle as you tried to ground yourself. The metallic click of the switch echoed through the room, but it did little to steady your nerves. You didn’t dare look back at him, even though you could feel his eyes on you, tracing every movement as though committing them to memory. The air was charged, heavy with the unspoken tension that had been building all evening.

When he finally stepped closer, the distance between you evaporated like mist under sunlight. You felt him before you heard him—the subtle shift of the air, the warmth radiating from his body. Your breath hitched as his hands settled gently on your waist, the touch both tender and possessive. His fingers brushed over the fabric of your sweater, the lightest of touches, but it sent a shiver coursing through you that you couldn’t hide.

“You’re trembling,” he murmured, his voice a low, intimate rasp that seemed to resonate deep within you. He was so close now that you could feel the heat of his breath against your neck, the faintest brush of his lips as he spoke. Your body reacted instinctively, your back arching slightly as if to close the gap, to invite him closer.

You wanted to respond, to say something clever or reassuring, but the words caught in your throat. Instead, you swallowed hard, willing yourself to steady the quiver in your hands. But River noticed everything; he always did. His hands tightened slightly on your waist, anchoring you, his thumbs tracing slow, deliberate circles against your sides. It was such a small gesture, but it ignited something inside you—a need that you had been trying, unsuccessfully, to keep at bay.

His lips grazed your neck, just below your ear, a featherlight kiss that sent a jolt of electricity down your spine. You closed your eyes, exhaling a shaky breath as your grip on the counter tightened. The sensation was intoxicating, a perfect balance of tenderness and restraint. He wasn’t rushing; he was savoring. Every touch, every kiss felt deliberate, as though he was memorizing the shape of you, the taste of you, the way you responded to him.

“Why are you trembling?” he asked again, his voice softer now, tinged with curiosity and something deeper. It wasn’t just desire—it was care, a genuine concern that made your chest ache.

You turned your head slightly, your lips parting as you tried to find the right words. The truth was messy, complicated. You weren’t sure how to explain the whirlwind of emotions coursing through you. The vulnerability, the excitement, the fear of wanting something so badly it felt like you could break from it.

“I’m not usually like this,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t… I don’t usually let things happen so fast.” You felt the warmth of a blush rising to your cheeks, the words spilling out before you could second-guess them. “But with you, it feels different… I don’t want to wait.”

You finally dared to look back at him, your gaze meeting his. His eyes were dark, intense, filled with an emotion that made your breath catch. There was no judgment there, no impatience or disappointment. Only understanding, and something far more dangerous—an unyielding hunger that mirrored your own.

“There’s no wrong way to feel this,” he said, his voice steady, grounding. “Not with me.’’

Relief washed over you, mingling with the desire that had been simmering just beneath the surface. You turned fully in his arms, your hands coming to rest against his chest. His heartbeat was strong and steady beneath your palms, a stark contrast to the chaotic rhythm of your own.

“I want you,” you whispered, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “I don’t want to think anymore. I just… I just want this.”

River’s lips curved into a faint smile, but his eyes remained serious, searching yours as if to confirm what you were saying. When he leaned in, it wasn’t rushed or hurried. His lips met yours softly at first, testing, asking. But when you responded, your hands sliding up to his shoulders, pulling him closer, the kiss deepened. It was slow, deliberate, and utterly consuming.

His hands moved to your back, one sliding up to cradle the nape of your neck while the other pressed you closer against him. Every inch of him was warm, solid, grounding you even as the world seemed to tilt beneath your feet. The kiss wasn’t just an exploration; it was a claim, a promise of everything yet to come.

When he pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, you were both breathing hard, the space between you charged with energy. His thumb brushed over your cheek, his touch impossibly tender for someone who had just unraveled you so completely.

“You’re safe with me,” he said, his voice rough but certain.

Desire

His words made your chest tighten. It was more than just desire that tied you to him in this moment. It was trust, a fragile thread that had been spun over every conversations, every stolen glance, every fleeting touch. You needed this, after everything of the last few weeks you just wanted to feel, to yearn, to lose yourself.

As his lips found yours again, the last of your hesitation melted away. You let yourself fall, let yourself want, let yourself feel. And as his hands slid lower, as he lifted you effortlessly onto the counter, you knew there was no going back. 

I am back baby! Sorry its been so long but life has been a bit crap and I have been torn between two ideas. So for my special Christmas update you have a choice for the next chapter- Very sexy smut or tense action.

Please let me know what you want to see!

Except, from the dim light of a car’s headlamp turning down the road, you saw a slightly clearer image of him. 

“What the hell happened to you?”

“Just let me in.”

“Cartwright, there’s a hospital-”

He looked around hurriedly and practically hissed at you to shut up. “Shhhh. I know. Just- please.”

It took you a moment and a half to consider letting him in. But considering he didn’t want a hospital to deal with the blood on his face, you agreed. 

“There’s a key in the safety box.” You told him. “Let yourself in.”

He walked back towards the box, but then walked back. “What’s the code?”

“My birthday.”

“And that is?”

With both hands on the window ledge, you leaned out. “It was last week, River.”

“Oh. Right.” 

Rolling your eyes as he thought back to last week, you shut your window and locked it again, hearing your front door finally open and watching as it closed behind River. 

Switching a lamp on in your landing hallway, you got a clearer picture of River as he slowly ascended the stairs. The blood wasn’t just on his face, it covered most of his clothes, too. 

“Relax. It’s not mine. Well,” he looked down at himself and back at you. “Not all of it.”

“Did you kill someone?”

“What? No.”

You took in all the blood. “You’re covered, Cartwright.”

Then a small smile graced his face. “‘Should see the other guy.”

For a moment you stared at him before rolling your eyes and heading towards the bathroom. “In here.”

River took his chance to examine your place as he watched you walk away. “Not gonna lie, I was half expecting you to curse me out.”

“Don’t worry. I am. It’s just too early in the morning for it.” You leaned over the sink and closed the window, stopping the cold air from surrounding the room making you colder than you wanted. “Now why the fuck are you here? Other than the bloody face. And I’m guessing Lamb followed me home, so that’s why you know where I live.”

Turning around, you got a better look at River in the light of the bathroom. He had a couple more scapes and cuts than you’d counted when you first looked at him on your landing. Most of the blood seemed to be dry and his clothes weren’t cut. 

“The Dogs.”

With your hands on your hips, your head dropped down. “That’s why the fuck you’re here. Of course it is. Okay. Sit down.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet, Cartwright.” 

He just nodded and sat down on the lid of the toilet seat as you found a fresh face cloth plus the first aid kit you kept under the sink. Then you moved back down the hallway and turned off the lamps before turning the bathroom light off. 

“There’s enough light from the window for me to see what I’m doing.” You told him as you heard him go to speak. With a street lamp being closer and brighter to your bathroom window than your front door, it shone directly across River. 

Finally, running the tap to fill the sink with warm water, you dunked the face cloth into it before turning the tap off. 

“Do I want to know why you got into a fist fight with The Dogs? Move your legs.” Knocking your knee with his, River opened up his legs and you stepped into them, your fingers under his chin forcing his head up to look at you. 

“No, probably – zzzz – not.” River hissed as you pressed the cloth back to some of the grazes on his face. “Anyway, how do you know it was a fist fight?”

“Other than your face being covered in blood?” You felt him nod under your fingers. “Your knuckles.”

He looked down at his hands. Scaped, bruised and bleeding. You forced him to look at you again as you wiped away the dry blood. 

“And why did you come to me? You pass three of the others just to get here.”

River stalled. “I don’t know where they live.”

“And you just so happened to remember my address?” 

“Yes.”

“But not my birthday?” River didn’t know what to say. “Relax. I know we’re not friends. I’m not hurt.”

That made him feel a little better…kind of. 

“I am confused, though.”

“Why?”

You stopped dabbing at the blood, dunking the cloth back into the water and wringing it out. “Why not go to the hospital?”

“I was a little busy running.”

“Sooo, run to the hospital.” 

River wasn’t amused. “Little late for that, now.”

“You’re lucky I know what I’m doing.”

He tilted his head a little. “Do you?”

You looked in his eyes for a moment before going back to his wounds. “Better than the others would.”

You caught the soft smirk on his face. “Right.”

For the next five minutes, you both remained silent. You’d washed most of the blood away, but you couldn’t help mentioning his beard. 

“I thought you learnt how to shave when you were a kid.”

He seemed a little offended. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m not trying to say anything. I’m saying you need a shave.”

“Thanks.”

You stood back and cleaned most of the blood out of the face cloth before watching the bloody water wash down the drain. “I can do it for you.”

Looking over your shoulder, River was running a hand through his beard in the dim reflection of the mirror. 

River looked at you, his hand dropping from his face. “Yeah, I don't think I like the idea of you having a razor that close to my throat.”

With all the muscles in your face relaxing, River could already read the look on your face. Even if you were still in the dark. Your face was telling him to get over himself. 

“Stay there.”

“Do you even have razors?” Looking around your bathroom, he couldn’t see any other than the one on the plate below the shower head. 

You appeared back in the doorway of the bathroom. “I do.” You paused for a moment as you looked at his body. “Take your shirt off.”

“You’re shaving my face.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re wearing a collar, Cartwright.” You walked away and down the hall to another room. “I don’t want to spill anything else on it. Besides, I can shove it on a quick cycle. Blood shouldn’t be too hard to get out since it’s so early.”

As he listened to you talk, he rolled his eyes, reluctantly doing as you ordered. “How do you know how to get blood out of clothes?”

You appeared back in the doorway. “Seriously?”

Then he remembered you were a woman. “Right.”

Fully removing his shirt, he threw it to you. “Be right back.”

And you were. From downstairs, he could hear the washing machine starting to fill with water as you climbed back up the stairs and came into the bathroom. “Found it.”

River watched as you waved a small shaving wrap in the air before you unravelled it and told him to keep hold of it. 

“Why do you even have one of these?” 

“Look at me.” Taking a fresh face cloth, you began to carefully wash his face before eventually you wiped away the face wash and placed the hot cloth against the bottom half of his face. 

“You still haven’t answered my question.” River told you, his voice slightly muffled by the cloth. 

You sighed. “Ex-boyfriend’s Christmas present. Broke up with him before I could give it to him.”

Dropping the cloth back into the sink, you lifted the package from River’s hands before opening it up and giving it back to him to lay across his legs. 

You began lathering up the shaving cream before you carefully brushed it in and around his beard. “What did he do? I thought breaking up before Christmas was illegal.”

“Statistically speaking, most people break up a few weeks before Christmas. Mainly because they don’t want to have to buy Christmas presents.”

“But you already bought one.” He pointed out. “So what did he do?”

“If you must know, I found out he was fucking our downstairs neighbour for three months, so.” Your voice trailed off as you placed the shaving brush down and picked up the straight razor. 

“Are you gonna Sweeney-Todd-me if I keep asking you questions?”

“Maybe,” you deadpanned. 

“Keep my mouth shut. Got it.”

And he did. Despite that, however, he did keep his eyes on you. Despite the darkness of the bathroom, the light that lit up his face was bleeding onto yours. His legs opened a little wider once more for you to step into them. For a few moments, when his mind would wander, River could feel his hands twitch to reach out for you. But then he’d force himself back into reality. 

You took extra care with the razor as you tidied his beard up. Your finger delicate against his skin, you turned his head a little each way as you moved around his face before tilting his head up fully. 

“When did you learn to shave a beard?” River asked you once you’d shaken the shaving foam and hair off the razor for the final time before grabbing the previous cloth to wipe his face. 

“A friend from college. His family ran a barber shop. Spent a couple afternoons there working when they were understaffed.”

River’s eyes widened for a moment. “Wow. Wasn’t expecting that answer.”

You laughed a little. “What? Did you expect me to say my boyfriend or something?”

He shrugged. You laughed again and stepped back into his legs. “Yeah, well, there’s a lot you still don’t know about me, Cartwright.”

He looked back up at you without you having to tell him. “Do you want me to know? Or would that make us too close to being friends?”

You leaned forward a little. “We’ll never be friends, Cartwright.”

You cursed at yourself in your head as you realised your eyes had momentarily shifted from his eyes to his lips. But by the looks of it, River was doing the same thing. 

You were thankful for the lack of light in the bathroom, or else he might have been able to see the heat on your cheeks more clearly. A small chuckle escaped your chest as you threw the face cloth at his bare chest. 

“Take a shower, Cartwright. You’re still covered in blood.”

Watching you leave, River lowered his head and let out a breath as he ran a hand through his head. That was close. Too close. 

As he took a shower, washing off the extra blood, you moved his shirt into the dryer before looking through some old boxes in your spare room for men’s clothes. However, as you approached your bathroom door to knock, you’d failed to notice the lack of sound from your shower. 

With your finger raised to knock on the door, the door opened in front of you and you were met with a freshly showered, waist wrapped in a towel, River Cartwright. And for a moment, your brain faltered. 

“Uhh. Um.” You physically shook your head and forced your gaze onto him. “I left you some clothes in the spare room.” 

He nodded. “Thanks.”

“Feel free to stay the night. I’m gonna…I’m gonna get some sleep while it’s still dark outside. And, River? Me offering you to stay the night still doesn’t make us friends.”

River nodded, watching you walk towards your bedroom. However, although he didn’t miss the look on your face when he opened the bathroom door, he did miss you looking back from your bedroom as he walked towards the spare one. 

When you closed your bedroom door, you cursed at yourself again for checking him out as he walked away; hair dripping droplets of water down his toned back, a towel wrapped firmly around his hips. 

It took you a little longer than you liked in order to get back to sleep since part of you was still listening out for him to open your front door, but since it never came, you eventually fell asleep. 

When you woke up in the morning, you were still groggy from the broken sleep. Eventually pulling yourself out of bed, you opened your door and found the spare bedroom door open slightly.

He must already be awake. 

Going downstairs and towards your kitchen, you were surprised to find him sitting at the kitchen table, his leg stretched out, still dressed in the pajamas you’d set out on the bed, a coffee in his hand. 

“Oh. Hey.”

“Morning.”

You were thankful your back was to him when he first spoke. His voice was deeper and gruffer than usual. Maybe he hadn’t been awake long. 

“How’d you sleep?”

He sucked his teeth. “If I told you that, that might make us friends.”

“Fair enough.”

Pouring yourself a cup of coffee, you grabbed the carton of milk from the fridge. “How’s your face?”

“Healing.” River told you.

Pulling out a chair, you eventually sat across from him and took in his face. There was some bruising, but that would heal soon enough. So would the smaller cuts and grazes. 

“How are your hands?”

You looked at them as he wrapped them around his mug. They looked worse than his face. Healing, but rough. 

“Swelling is going down.”

“Do they hurt?” 

He nodded, curling his hand into a tight fist before relaxing it. “No, well, a little.”

River watched as you stood from your spot at the table and opened up one of the kitchen drawers and sat back down. “Give me your hand.”

He went to do so but then pulled it back. “What are you gonna do?”

You flipped the tube up in your hand. “It’s just a healing cream.”

“Oh, right.”

You watched him carefully as he gave you his hand. “Why? What did you think I was going to do?”

“I tried to open a flashbox once and got burnt.”

“That was clever.”

He hissed a little before giving a small groan. “Yes. Thank you. Anyway, when I showed Sid, she slapped me. Well, my hand. The one I’d burnt.”

“Good. I’m glad. You deserved it.”

River tried to pull his hand away, but you kept a firm grip on it as you gently dabbed the cream across his knuckles. “Ow, hey. It was for a good cause.”

“What good cause? Figuring out the rest of Pi?”

River stopped pulling away and looked at you. “How do you-”

“You’re not my friend. You don’t get that privilege.”

“Then what privilege do you get to check me out?” You caught River’s smug smile as your gaze flashed to his. “You can deny it all you want, but I saw how you were looking.”

You could feel your entire body. It felt like it was on fire. And not in a good way. “It was three in the morning. Everyone knows human defences are weakest at that time.”

“Weak in muscle or weak at the knees?”

You pressed into one of the cuts on his hand. “Fuck- Ow, ow, ow. Okay, okay. I’ll stop.”

Letting go, River shook his hand to try and relieve some of the pain before you pulled his other hand across the table and dabbed the cream across the cuts one by one. 

“In all seriousness, thank you.” You looked back at him, your cheeks cooling. “You could have told me to fuck off, and you didn’t. So…thanks.”