Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

You were halfway through your entrée when the memory hit you, and you nearly choked on your wine. “Oh my god, you two will love this,” you said, leaning forward, elbows braced on the table. “So today at the lab, Aris looks over my data, frowns, and goes, ‘This defies classical mechanics.’ And I just stared at him. Like, Aris, babe…if Newton could explain it, I wouldn’t be getting a grant for it, would I?” Sue snorted into her glass, catching herself too late. “Not the poor woman,” she said, wiping at her mouth with her napkin. “What did she do?” You grinned, stabbing at your pasta. “Oh, she turned beet red and muttered something about paradoxes not being real. So naturally, I gave her three. On the spot.” Reed, who had been calmly sipping his wine, coughed into his glass. “Three paradoxes. In the hallway. Before lunch.” His mouth twitched, the closest thing to a smile most people ever saw, but you knew it meant he was delighted. “She asked!” you protested, throwing up your hands. “What was I supposed to do, lie?” Sue leaned across the table, her voice dropping into that smooth, teasing cadence she used when she wanted you flustered. “Sweetheart, not everyone enjoys being dismantled at the molecular level by your brain.” “Speak for yourself,” Reed said, his hand brushing your wrist with a faint squeeze. “I find it exhilarating.” You felt your face flush, warmth curling low in your stomach. “See? At least someone appreciates me.” “Oh, I do,” Sue said, a wicked little smile tugging at her lips. “Just in different ways.” The table fell into easy laughter again, but Sue wasn’t finished. “Speaking of dismantling,” she said, leaning back with a dramatic sigh, “did I tell you what happened at the Future Foundation board meeting this week?” You perked up immediately. “Oh no. What happened?” Reed groaned softly. “Sue–” “No, no, she needs to hear this,” Sue interrupted, She rested her chin in her hand like she was settling in to tell a story. “So the new governor, yes, that one, thought it would be wise to suggest that our ‘curriculum lacked practical applications.’” You gasped. “To your face?” Sue’s smile widened. “To. my. fucking. face. And then he tried to explain how his nephew learned so much from his summer coding bootcamp, and maybe we should focus more on things like that instead of, you know, interdimensional safety protocols.” You nearly dropped your fork. “Oh my god.” “So I let him go on for a good three minutes,” Sue continued, “and then I asked if his nephew could explain what would happen if the Negative Zone cracked open over Queens.” Reed made a strangled sound into his napkin. Sue sat back, pleased. “He didn’t have an answer. So I gave him one. In… excruciating detail.” You burst out laughing, covering your mouth with your hand. “You didn’t.” “Oh, I did,” Sue said, smug. “He went pale halfway through, but by the time I got to describing how fast atmospheric collapse would spread, he was sweating bullets. And then I smiled very sweetly and told him we’d keep the Foundation curriculum as-is.” Reed shook his head, though his eyes gleamed with pride. “You terrify politicians. That’s why I married you.” “Someone has to,” she said. You stared at her for a moment, and it wasn’t the wine making your head spin…it was her. Her poise, her courage, her absolute command of the world when she wanted it. “You know,” you said slowly, letting your foot nudge against hers under the table, “you telling that story just made me think of… other practical applications.” Sue arched an eyebrow, pretending innocence. “Oh? And what applications would those be?” You leaned closer, your voice dropping to a whisper meant only for her. “Ones I’d really like to test. In the bathroom. Like right now.” Her lips parted, the faintest flicker of surprise crossing her features before it melted into amusement. “You’re insatiable,” she murmured, though her hand found your thigh under the table. Reed, who had absolutely noticed, tilted his head at you both, amusement flickering across his face. “I assume one of you plans to stay at the table so we don’t appear to be dining and dashing?” “I’ll stay,” Reed continued before you could answer, a little too quickly, as if he wanted to give you and Sue the excuse. “Go on. I’ll order dessert.” You barely managed to hide your grin as you pushed your chair back. “Don’t wait up.” Sue stood gracefully, her hand brushing your lower back as she followed you, her heels clicking against the restaurant floor. And the second the one stalled bathroom door swung shut behind you, the two of you didn’t waste any time. Sue flipped you against the bathroom door with a force that makes you gasp, the thud noise reverberating through the small tiled room. Your back presses against the cool wood, the faint creak of the hinges reminding you how hard she’s pinned you. You fumble for the lock with your free hand, the click loud in the otherwise hushed space. Her lips find yours in a hungry, passionate kiss, the wet sound of her mouth on yours filling your ears. Her tongue slides against yours with an intensity that makes you groan, the soft smack of each kiss echoing off the tiles. The sounds of your moans bounce around the small room until it feels like there’s no hiding the sheer need between you. The rustle of fabric fills the air as Sue’s hands roam over your body and lifting your clothes around so she can touch your skin. Her grip on your hips makes you gasp again, pulling you closer until you can hear the faint drag of your clothes against hers. “Sue,” you murmur against her lips, your voice husky, the word breaking into a soft whimper at the end. She pulls back slightly, “You have me, baby.” Her hands slide up your thighs and when her fingers brush over your damp panties, the fabric makes a faint, betraying sound under her touch, a slick friction that has her smiling wickedly. “You’re so wet for me,” she murmurs, her words punctuated by the audible hitch in her breath. “I love you.” You whimper, tangling your hands in her hair. “I need you, Sue,” you moan, your hips pressing forward. “Please, don’t tease me.” She hooks her fingers into your underwear, the elastic making a soft snap as she tugs them down slowly. Sue’s breathing deepens as she kneels, not breaking eye contact. “Sue, please,” you beg, your voice a trembling whisper that breaks into a soft moan at the end. “I love it when you beg,” she growls, her voice reverberating in your chest, and then her mouth is on you. The slick sound of her tongue against your folds fills the space, obscene and intoxicating, mixing with your desperate whines. Your hands slam against the door, the wood rattling. Your knuckles whiten around the frame. Sue’s tongue circles your clit with pressure, and the sound is lewd, the rhythm matched by the soft squelch of her fingers sliding inside you. Your cries rise higher, “Oh god,” you sob, “I’m so close.” “Come for me, baby,” she whispers, And when it hits, your cry tears through the bathroom. The wet noises of her tongue and fingers don’t stop as you tremble. Your orgasm builds with audible desperation; breathless panting, moans, the steady sucking of her mouth. When it crests, your cry echoes louder than anything else, filling the room with the sound of your surrender. Even when she slows, the quiet is broken only by your breathing, one last kiss, and the click when you finally unlock the door again. You go to step out but Sue gently pushes you back into the bathroom and tsked you. “Now don’t tell me you aren’t going to let Reed have some too?” You smirk, feeling the heat in your cheeks. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” As you turn, Reed steps into the bathroom, like he knew he would be coming next. He doesn’t hesitate, his hands finding your hips as he pulls you against him, his mouth crashing onto yours. He’s a loud fuck, and you adore it. You wrap your legs around him, feeling the hard length of him press against you, and you can’t help but whimper. “What do you want?” he asks, his voice urgent. You pull back slightly, “I want you inside of me,” you say, “Come on, my good boy. Show me what you can do.” Reed growls, He lifts you with ease, your legs wrapping tighter around his waist as he presses you against the sink. The sound of his zipper is loud in the small space, followed by the rustle of fabric as he frees himself. “You want this?” he asks, his hands gripping your thighs, his fingers digging into your hips. “Yes,” you gasp, your hips bucking against him, seeking more. “Fuck me, Reed.” He doesn’t make you wait, nor does he give you time to adjust. With a single thrust, he fills you completely. “Fuck!” You throw your head back. The sink rattles beneath you, the sound of metal on metal echoing in the room, lost under the sound of your moans. Reed begins to move, his hips slamming against yours. Each thrust is accompanied by his low moans which you love. His hands are on your back, gripping you tightly, and keeping you close to him. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, your mouth finding his in a desperate, open-mouthed kiss. The sound of your moans is muffled against his lips. Reed’s mouth leaves yours, trailing down your neck, his teeth nipping at your skin. His hands grip the side of your ass, pulling you tighter against him. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he whines. You can feel the tension building, your moans increasing, your body trembling with the force of it. Reed’s thrusts become faster, and he’s groaning and whining your name over and over and over. “Reed, I’m so close,” you gasp, “Keep going, come on, fuck me harder.” “Yes, ma’am,” he pants. And when it hits, you stifle your scream into his neck. Reed’s own release follows. You can feel his hot cum filling you as he whimpers into your ear. Your free hand stroked his hair as you whispered, “You’re so good…you’re so good.” Reed pulls back after a moment, filled with satisfaction. “You okay?” he asks. You nod, “More than okay,” you whisper. Reed helps you down from the sink, his hands lingering on your ass for a moment before he pulls back, a leaves soft kiss on your lips. You feel his cum drip out of you, a warm, sticky sensation. It hits you then that you have to go in public right now. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” Reed says like this isn’t a big deal. He reaches for a paper towel and gently cleans you. You can feel his touch, gentle and caring, as he makes sure you’re clean. “There you go, all better,” he says and kisses your forehead. And as you step out of the bathroom, your hand in his, you can’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction, a sense of completion, a sense of being thoroughly and completely devoured. “You still want dessert?” he whispered in your ear. You chuckled, “Not now. I’m too full of you.” – You, Reed, and Sue laughed all the way back to the Baxter Building after you realized that all of the people in the restaurant could hear you having sex, but the moment you stepped into the main living space, your stomach dropped. It looked like a bomb had gone off. Maybe a bomb did go off actually. The couch was upside down, cushions gutted and strewn like casualties across the floor. One lamp dangled at an unnatural angle, its shade crushed like an accordion. The wall bore suspiciously marker-colored streaks in shades of red, green, and an ominous black spiral that looked like the start of a portal to hell. And in the middle of the destruction, Franklin, two years old and perfectly content, sat on the floor giggling, clapping his hands at nothing in particular. “Johnny–” Reed’s voice was already mad. His face hardened into that sharp, impossible-to-argue-with expression he got when the laws of physics had been violated in front of him. “What. The. Hell.” From behind the wreckage of the coffee table, Johnny emerged, hair wild, face pale, and expression shell-shocked. He looked like he’d just come back from combat. His T-shirt had a smear of something purple across it…grape jelly? Paint? Blood of the innocent? Hard to tell. “Okay,” Johnny said, holding his hands up, “Before you freak out–” “Too late,” Reed snapped. “--I can explain,” Johnny insisted, pointing frantically toward Franklin, who squealed and tried to climb onto the upside-down couch. “This is gonna sound insane, but… did you guys know your son can fly?” You, Reed, and Sue exchanged a look, three perfectly arched eyebrows raised in unison. Johnny groaned. “I’m serious! One second he’s stacking blocks like a normal toddler, the next, whoosh! He’s hovering three feet off the ground, laughing like a maniac! And then–” Johnny flailed his arms, mimicking some kind of tiny Superman takeoff. “-he launches himself at the ceiling fan like it was the ride of his life. You know how hard it is to get a flying baby down?” Franklin chose that exact moment to wave a cushion over his head like a victory flag, babbling nonsense syllables and shrieking with delight. Reed pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something about aerodynamic anomalies and too soon for manifestations.Sue folded her arms, biting back a smile. “Johnny,” you said carefully, trying not to laugh as you took in the utter carnage, “how exactly did this lead to the couch being… gutted?” “Because!” Johnny threw his hands up again, exasperated. “I tried to catch him! He flew into the lamp, I tried to grab him, the couch got in the way, and…” He gestured helplessly at the ruin. “Boom. Couch explosion. Also, don’t even ask about the markers. That was collateral damage.” Sue tilted her head, “Right. So Franklin can fly, couches spontaneously combust, and markers… attacked the walls.” “Exactly!” Johnny jabbed a finger in her direction like she finally understood. “Wait. No. Not like that. But kinda like that.” Sue sighed, shaking her head as Franklin toppled sideways into a pile of stuffing and squealed with glee. “Johnny…” “Yeah?” “You’re paying for all of this.” Johnny’s jaw dropped. “What?! I was literally saving your son from becoming a ceiling ornament!” “And destroying our living room in the process,” Reed deadpanned, already kneeling to check Franklin’s pulse and reflexes like this was a medical examination instead of a playdate gone nuclear. Franklin, of course, just giggled louder, reached up with sticky marker-stained hands, and proudly announced, “Mama!” Sue bent down, scooping him up with a smile that melted all her irritation, even as she cast one last glare at her brother. “You’re still paying, Johnny.” Johnny groaned, throwing himself onto the lone surviving armchair like a martyr. “Unbelievable. First babysitting gig and I’m out a couch.” You couldn’t help it. You laughed.

Chapter Text

2 years after the events with Galactus

“I hate dress shopping,” You rolled your eyes toward Aris and her wife Daphne. 

“You can be a feminist and still wear a dress you know.”

You stared at the mirror in front of you at the dress shop. You didn’t really like shopping period, not because it wasn’t ‘feminist’ but because you always got really overstimulated. Too many different types of fabrics, too many people talking over each other, having to stare at yourself in the mirror for too long. 

“It’s not that,” you called from inside the dressing room, “It’s just overwhelming.”

You sighed and smoothed some wrinkles before stepping out of the dressing room. You could see both of them trying to bite back tears of joy…so dramatic. 

You were getting married in a week. 

Okay no. Not really. 

It’s illegal for polyamorous marriages in the U.S., and also, Reed and Sue were already married. After the fight with Galactus you had come to terms with the fact that you were never going to have that childhood dream of a fairytale wedding, but it was okay really, because you got your main dream of having someone to love you. 

You actually got even more than you dreamed, because you had two people who loved you.

But, of course, Reed and Sue never let you give up on any of your dreams, and on your 31st birthday last month, they took you on a trip from NYC to Cape Cod. That in it of itself was a great gift. It reminded you of home in Maine, but without the emotionally abusive parents.

You hadn’t expected anything out of Cape Cod except sand in your shoes and Reed taking too many readings of the tide for “fun.” It was supposed to be simple; your 31st birthday, a quiet weekend away from the kids (Johnny and Franklin), and a borrowed cottage airbnb that smelled faintly of cedar and salt. Sue had packed sandwiches and a bottle of wine she swore she’d been saving, and Reed, God love him, brought a notebook full of scribbled formulas that had nothing to do with your day. But that was perfect for you. Because you also brought a notebook of formulas you were working on, you just preferred to work on them at night.

It was peaceful. Normal. Or as normal as your life had been since Galactus nearly destroyed it.

The sky was streaked with gold and lavender by the time you realized something was off. Reed wasn’t focused and scribbling anymore. He was restless. He was drawing lines in the sand with a stick, then smoothing them over again, staring out at the water. Sue hid it less. She kept watching you while you stared out into the sky. New York was lovely, but this…you missed this. Nature.

Sue suddenly stood and reached out her hand. “Come with me,” she said softly.

Confused, you took it, letting her lead you down to the tide’s edge where the water foamed at your toes. Reed followed, awkward and stiff, clutching something behind his back.

“Okay,” you said cautiously. “What’s happening? You’re both acting like you’re about to tell me someone died.”

Sue laughed shakily, squeezing your fingers. “Nothing like that. It’s… well. It’s this.”

Reed finally stepped forward, revealing a small leather journal cradled in his long hands. He opened it slowly, like it might explode, and inside were two bands. Silver, simple, catching the last slant of sunlight.

You blinked. “Are those–? You can’t… you’re already–”

“We know,” Sue cut you off, her hand trembling slightly against yours. “We know what we are. But you deserve more than stolen moments. You deserve more than being the third in an established marriage, or the woman who gave up her own dream of a wedding because the law is too small-minded to recognize us.” Her voice cracked, just once, before she steadied it again. “You gave us back pieces of ourselves we didn’t even know we’d lost. You gave us more than we thought we could ever have. And we want to give you everything in return.”

Reed’s eyes flicked up, and they were glistening. He didn’t cry often, but when he did, it made you nauseous. You felt so fucking protective over him. 

 “When I married Sue, I thought my world was complete. I thought I had reached the limit of joy I could hold. Then you came into our lives. You survived things that should have broken you, and instead you gave us strength. You made me laugh again. You made Sue breathe again. You made our family… whole in a way I didn’t even know it wasn’t before.” He swallowed hard,. “You changed the constants of my life. You shifted my universe. And I don’t want another day to pass without binding myself to you, the way I did with Sue. Even if it can’t be legal. Even if the world won’t recognize it. We will.”

Your throat burned. You wanted to speak, to laugh, to tell them they didn’t have to do this, but you couldn’t. Your words lodged somewhere behind your teeth, choked back by the heat of tears.

Sue lifted your hand, pressing it against her heart. “We found out some polyamorous couples have ceremonies. Commitment ceremonies. They’re not marriages in the eyes of the state, but they’re real in another way. They’re vows. And if that’s what it takes for you to have your fairytale… then that’s what we’ll do. For you.”

Both of them slid the bands onto your hand together, their fingers brushing yours in unison. The simple weight of the metal felt like so much more.

You tried to joke it off, because that’s what you always did when things got too heavy. “So what, we’re inventing our own wedding?”

Sue’s lips curved into a trembling smile and she gently bit her lower lip. “That’s the thing about us. We’ve always had to make our own rules.”

Reed nodded, his thumb brushing over your knuckles, reverent. “And besides… who better to defy tradition than three people who built their lives on defying the impossible?”

The waves crashed, steady and endless, and the sunset threw its light over the three of you. 

And now, here you were, standing in front of your boss slash best friend and her wife in the… 15th? 16th dress you’d tried on today. 

Your idea of a fairytale wedding wasn’t extravagant with horses and birds and shit. You always hoped it would be simple. In a garden. Maybe a lake nearby. (Safely) lit candles. Simple fashion. Big, loud wedding dresses weren’t you and they’d never be you. Nor did you love white.

“You look beautiful,”Aris choked out, finally letting one tear slip out, “I feel like I’m watching my daughter pick out her dress.”

Daughter.

The word shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did, but it sank like a stone into your gut, ripples spreading wide. Joan’s face surfaced in your mind. If the universe had played fair, she would be here. She would be the one standing in the mirrored light of this little boutique, examining your dress.

The guilt clamped down hard, sharp enough to make your throat close. Your fingers twitched against the gown you were trying on, pressing into the fabric like maybe you could ground yourself through the seams.

Because you were happy. Of course you were happy. You were getting something you never thought you’d have, something that once felt as far away as the stars. And yet…how dare you? How dare you stand here, breathing this moment, when Joan never got the chance?

You squeezed your eyes shut, teeth pressed together until your jaw ached. You could almost hear her voice mocking you for even entertaining the thought that you’d “stolen” this. That was the truth–she would’ve hated your guilt. She would’ve hated your smallness. She wasn’t the kind of person who got left behind in spirit, even if the universe had been cruel enough to take her body.

But still. Still.

You inhaled through your nose slow, trying to let the air fill you. Jerry was coming to the wedding. You weren’t alone in carrying all of this. He carried it too, every day, and he hadn’t judged you for finding joy again. He’d even smiled, that tired, soft smile of his, and told you he wouldn’t miss it for the world. If Jerry could stand beside you and still believe you deserved happiness, then maybe, just maybe, you could let yourself believe it too.

You swallowed, loosening your death grip on the dress. When you opened your eyes, the mirror reflected someone steadier, though your heartbeat was still thundering.

You smoothed the dress down, shook your head once like you could shake off the last bits of guilt clinging to you, and pushed the curtain back. “Okay,” you said, smiling for real this time. “One more. I’ve got one more dress to try.”

Their faces lit up as though you’d just told them you’d won a Nobel. Aris dabbed at the corner of her eye, Daphne let out a ridiculous little squeak. They were so dramatic, but maybe that’s what love looks like when you let it.

You ducked back into the dressing room, heart suddenly racing again for a different reason. The last dress waited for you on the hanger, ivory silk and lace glimmering in the soft light.

The moment you slipped it over your head and let the fabric fall, you knew. You didn’t even need the mirror.

But when you turned, when you caught sight of yourself in full–

You gasped.

It was beautiful. No, it was more than that. It was alive. The embroidery bloomed across the fabric in a riot of color, like an entire garden had decided to take root in the dress itself. Roses, violets, tiny wildflowers you couldn’t even name stitched in exquisite detail, spilling down into the lace that framed the train. The veil caught the light and shimmered like spun glass, delicate vines twining through it as though nature itself had decided to crown you.

You staggered a step closer to the mirror, tears already stinging hot at the corners of your eyes. For once, you didn’t see the girl who’d survived things that should have broken her. You didn’t see the mess, or the scars, or the constant guilt gnawing at your ribs.

Your hand flew to your mouth as the first sob broke free, but you were laughing too, laughter bubbling up between the tears because you couldn’t contain how much it meant, how impossible it felt to be standing here in this moment.

Your throat worked around the words before you even realized you were saying them. “Oh my God. It’s perfect.” You shook your head, tears spilling down your cheeks.

You stared at your reflection until your vision blurred again, until all you could see was color and light and the shape of someone who had finally stepped into her own fairytale.

“Well…are you gonna show us or what?” Aris called out and you laughed, wetly. 

The door to the dressing room creaked open as you stepped out, still smoothing the skirts of the gown with trembling hands. You had just seen yourself and for the first time in years, you felt beautiful. Your throat still burned from crying.

You barely had time to take two steps before–

Crack.

A fist slammed into your face. Whose fucking fist was that?

White light exploded behind your eyes as your head whipped violently to the side. Pain flared across your jaw and ear, blood rising on your tongue. The world tilted, and you staggered, one hand clinging desperately to the doorframe just to stay upright.

“HEY!” Daphne shrieked, her voice cracking. The shrill scrape of Aris’s chair followed as she bolted upright. “What the FUCK do you think you’re doing?!”

Your vision wavered, doubling. Your body swayed. You blinked hard, tears springing unbidden from the impact. And then, through the haze, his face came into focus.

Cal.

No. No.

Cal, your ex. Two years gone, two years of silence, and now here he was, staggering in the middle of a boutique in broad daylight. His shirt was stained, his eyes bloodshot, his grip tight on a beer bottle.

He sneered at you like he’d been waiting years for this moment.

“You think you can just walk in here and play dress-up? Think you get to be some princess? You don’t get to be happy, you fucking CHEATER.”

His words rang out, bouncing off the elegant walls lined with satin and lace.

You could barely breathe. You wanted Reed and Sue.

“You think you’re special, don’t you?” he barked, pointing at you with the neck of his beer. “You’re not. You’re nothing. You’ve always been nothing. Look at you–hiding under layers of makeup and some overpriced dress, trying to pretend you’re hot shit. You’re still that same desperate bitch who’d spread her legs for anyone who gave her half a second of attention.”

Daphne gasped. Aris started toward him, fists clenched, but he jabbed the bottle in their direction.

“Back the fuck off. This is between me and her.”

Cal laughed at the sight of your face,  “What, you thought Reed Richards loved you? Jesus Christ, what’s he even see in you? You’re a fucking downgrade. Stretchy-boy could have anyone, and he picks you? Must’ve been real easy, huh? On your knees, begging him to notice you, acting like a slut until he finally did. And Sue Storm? Please. You think the Invisible Woman wants you? You’re just a toy to her. You’ll never be her equal. She’s a goddamn goddess and you’re–” He looked you up and down with a sneer. “A sad little side piece with a cheap mouth and no self-respect.”

“And now a wedding?!” he continued, voice rising to a shout. “You think you get to put on a dress and play innocent? You? After you fucked me over?” His laugh was hollow, bitter. “Cheaters don’t get a fairytale. Cheaters get left in the gutter where they belong.”

You took a step back, trembling, clutching at the gown.

“You’re not even hot enough for this circus act you’re pulling,” he hissed, eyes raking over you. “Look at you…you’re heavier now that you’re past your prime. Bet Richards hates it. Bet Sue only pretends to find you attractive. Probably laugh about you behind your back.” His lip curled. “Bet you still fake it in bed, just like you did with me. Guess some things never change.”

Your vision blurred with rage.

“And another thing,” he slurred, voice cracking from sheer vitriol. “Your body? Not even worth it. Flat tits, wide hips, thighs like fucking tree trunks. Trash. A slut in a dress. That’s all you are. And when they finally get bored of you, and they will, you’ll be alone again. Alone, ugly, pathetic–”

And then, with a flick of his wrist, he hurled the beer.

It hit your chest with a wet smack. Cold liquid splashed across your skin, soaking through the delicate floral embroidery of the gown. Foam slid down the ivory lace, dripping onto the floor in ugly brown stains.

The boutique went dead silent.

Aris lunged, Daphne screamed again, but all you heard was the rush of blood in your ears.

Your breath came in sharp bursts, your whole body trembling, but not from fear, not anymore.

From rage.

A rage so pure it nearly blinded you.

The air rippled. The world bent around you. Cal’s body jerked up violently into the air, his beer clattering against the floor. He flailed, legs kicking uselessly, curses tumbling from his mouth.

“What the fuck–PUT ME DOWN!”

Your voice cut through the shop like steel. “No.”

You walked forward, dripping in beer, your jaw aching where he had struck you. Aris froze mid-stride, Daphne’s mouth fell open.

The door blasted open with a flick of your power, glass shuddering in its frame. You carried him out effortlessly, as though he weighed nothing, the world narrowing to the two of you.

Outside, the city bustled until you snapped your wrist.

Time stopped.

Cars froze mid-turn, pedestrians hung mid-step, a dog bark silenced in its throat. The world fell silent except for the ragged, terrified sound of Cal’s breath as he dangled in the air.

You lifted your chin, eyes boring into his. 

“You are going to listen to me. You are going to pack up your shit. You are going to leave me alone. Forever. And if you ever come near me again–” You tilted your head, lips curling. “I’ll unfreeze time thirty feet up. We’ll see how well you bounce off the concrete.”

His face drained of all color. The beer breath and bravado vanished, replaced with whimpering panic. His eyes darted around the frozen street, desperate for someone, anyone, to save him.

“P-please,” he whimpered, voice cracking. “Please, I’m sorry. I’m sorry! Don’t–I’ll go, I’ll go, I swear, I’ll never–” His words dissolved into sobs.

You smirked, lowering him just enough for the terror to sharpen, for the air to scream past his ears. He wailed.

Then you let go.

Time snapped back into motion with a sickening crack. Cal plummeted, screaming, before slamming hard onto the concrete. Not fatal,but brutal. A fall he would feel for weeks.

You stood above him, chest heaving, the ruined gown clinging to your skin, hair plastered to your face. Your power still hummed in your veins, burning hot, but your voice came out steady.

“Don’t ever test me again.”

–

“Hey, how was dress–WOAH–” Ben had been cooking dinner when you came home. You were hoping he would be so caught up in his food that he wouldn’t notice your developing black eye.

Ben froze mid-sentence, spatula dangling in one hand as he took in your face. You felt the corner of your lip twitch upward despite the swelling ache in your cheek.

“Don’t freak out,” you said quickly, stepping further inside, holding yourself tall. “I’m fine.”

Ben was already lumbering over, abandoning dinner, his brow furrowed with concern. He crouched down, hands bracketing your face with surprising gentleness. “Kid, somebody hit you. Don’t tell me you’re fine.”

You tilted your chin up. “Somebody tried. Didn’t end well for him.”

Ben blinked. For a beat, the kitchen went quiet except for the faint sizzle from the stovetop. Then his lips curled in something between a grin and a growl. “What’d you do?”

Before you could answer, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hall.

“Did I hear the elevator?” Sue’s voice. Reed’s hum followed.

Ben’s face tightened. He muttered, “I’m warnin’ ya, they’re gonna lose it.”

“Babe? You’re home?” Reed called, and then they appeared in the doorway, both mid-step, both smiling, until they saw you.

The smiles disintegrated. Reed’s whole body seemed to stretch taut. Sue gasped, her hand flying to her chest before she surged forward.

They rushed you, one on each side, hands everywhere; Reed’s steady palms cradling your jaw, Sue’s trembling fingers brushing your hair back, her lips scattering frantic kisses across your temple.

“Who hurt you?” Reed’s voice cracked

“Tell me right now–where is he?” Sue’s tone was colder.

Ben folded his arms,  “Her damn ex. Showed up drunk at the shop, laid into her.”

Reed’s hands tightened around you and Sue’s eyes narrowed into your bruised eye.

You laughed. Actually laughed. Their heads snapped toward you, stunned, but you only leaned back slightly in Reed’s grip, the corner of your mouth quirking upward. “Don’t look at me like that. I handled it.”

Their anger faltered into confusion.

You shrugged, proud, adrenaline still thrumming through your veins. “I lifted him clean off the ground. Walked him outside and into the air, Then I froze him there. Told him if he didn’t pack his crap and disappear from my life, I’d drop him headfirst onto the concrete.” You paused, a little smile tugging your lips. “Lowered him just a bit before I let him fall. Not enough to kill him. Just enough to hurt.”

Ben let out a sharp bark of laughter, clapping one massive hand against his thigh. “That’s my girl.”

Reed’s eyes went wide, then soft. He looked at you like he was seeing something brand new and dazzling. Sue covered her mouth, but you could see the smile threatening to break through her fury.

“You–” Sue’s voice trembled with awe and pride. “I’m so proud of you”

Reed leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours, “I have never been more proud.”

You grinned, bruised and glowing, every inch of you buzzing with satisfaction. For once, you didn’t feel small, or scared, or guilty. You felt powerful. You felt untouchable.

“I’m more upset he ruined the dress I picked out.”

The three of them frowned again.

“I finally found ‘the one,’” you continued, “And now it’s covered in beer stains. So I just bought my second favorite.”

Sue gasped, “No, no. We don’t do second favorites here. Did you take a photo of the dress?”

“No, but I wish I did. It was so beautiful. Really, I never saw anything like it.”

The diplomat in Sue’s brain was working in overtime. She paused, clearly thinking of a plan that wouldn’t stress you out too much before smiling again and kissing your cheek. 

“I’ve got it figured out. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” 

Even though she didn’t even give you a plan, you trusted her more than you trusted anyone in your life. It’s Sue fucking Storm. She’s going to get that dress.

Chapter Text

You had never been out of the country before. It was always on your list of things you wanted to do, but other things became a priority over time. Like your family. And your work with Aris. 

Except now, you were in Norway. Fucking Norway. 

Your work with Aris had become big in the astrophysics community. After your Breakthrough Prize win, you and Aris had become microcelebrities among scientists–you slightly more than Aris due to your newly publicized powers and help stopping Galactus. 

You didn’t realize how much people would care about you and your work. One of your fears after entering the open marriage with Reed and Sue was that you would no longer be taken seriously for your work and you would only ever be the girl who follows the Fanastic Four around. 

Now you’ve been interviewed by the Smithsonian, the Scientific American, National Graphic, and even some world news groups, like CNN, ABC, fuckin’ Good Morning America. It was scary at first, because you were afraid the public attention would bring up the…the Jack situation.

So far, you’ve been clear. 

The other beautiful thing about winning the Breakthrough Prize? Your name is now on the radar for even bigger prizes. Like the Kavli Prize. Which is why you’re in Norway with Aris, Reed, Johnny, Sue, and Ben. 

“Babe, back away from the computer, you’re scaring me.” 

You gave Sue a dirty look, “I’m scaring me. I don’t know what I’m going to do if I lose. That’s humiliating.”

“Some of us have never even been nominated,” Reed walked in from the kitchen with his freshly made coffee. 

“You are not helping,” you said flatly. Finding out you were nominated for the Kavli Prize was one, if not the, best day of your life. Now you’re watching a livestream, waiting for the recipients to be announced.

You felt Sue’s toned arms envelop you from behind and she kissed your shoulder.

“You’ll be okay. I know you don’t believe me, but you’ll be okay.”

“I know baby-WAIT SHIT, IT’S STARTING!”

The announcer’s voice crackled through the livestream, listing categories, recipients. For everything he said, you had to wait for the translator to respond. You swore your lungs forgot how to work.

“And in the category of Astrophysics…”

You stopped breathing entirely.

“…Dr. Aris Thorne and Dr. Y/N L/N.”

The room blurred. Sue shrieked in your ear, tackling you into the chair, her arms wrapped tight around your chest. Reed nearly spilled his coffee for the first time in history, his face breaking into the widest grin you’d ever seen.

“You did it!” Sue shouted, her voice cracking with joy.

Reed leaned down, pressed his lips hard against yours, his voice deep and reverent. “You deserved it.”

Your eyes flooded, tears spilling hot and fast down your cheeks as Sue kissed your temple over and over, as Reed murmured, “my brilliant girl, my heart, my star,” against your hair.

Snow sparkles outside the tall glass windows of the Oslo concert hall, every flake catching the golden light spilling from chandeliers that hang like frozen suns. The room is filled with different languages–German, French, Mandarin, English–and the clinking of champagne flutes adds a soft percussion to the orchestral sweep playing beneath it all.

You’re still reeling. Norway. Fucking Norway.

Your velvet dress clings to you like it was poured over your body, deep midnight, soft sleeves brushing your wrists, neckline modest but the cut indecent in how it sculpts your figure. Silver rings catch the light when you reach for a glass of champagne, the delicate necklace at your throat a steadying weight. Sue’s last words before walking in still echo in your ear. “You’re trying to kill me.” and Reed’s “There is not a woman alive who could rival you tonight.”

And you believe them because the way people are looking at you, it’s like you’re not just part of the Fantastic Four anymore. You’re not just Reed and Sue’s partner. You’re you. 

You drift toward the refreshments, scanning for familiar faces, when you bump shoulders with someone tall, someone who smells faintly of cinnamon.

“Oh, excuse me!” she says in lightly accented English, turning with a smile that feels like the opening of a window.

You blink. She’s gorgeous.

Her name is Elin Andersson, she tells you, offering a hand. You recognize her.

“You won tonight,” you say.

Her cheeks pinken, though pride shines in her eyes. “Yes. It doesn’t feel real. I almost didn’t submit my research…it felt too risky. But my grandmother… she has Parkinson’s. She inspired all of it. I wanted to do something that mattered before it was too late.”

The words hit you deep. You know that feeling, the gnawing desperation to matter, to make what you do mean something beyond the paper it’s written on.

The chandeliers blaze above, casting Elin’s face in gold. Up close she’s even more striking; poised, but with a kind of restless energy under her skin, like she hasn’t stopped moving in years.

“I was born in Gothenburg,” she says, her English carrying the soft sing-song lilt of Swedish vowels. “My mother is a nurse, my father a teacher. We weren’t wealthy, but we were…happy, I think. I was always the strange girl who stayed after school to do the extra experiments. When the other children played outside, I was charting the effects of light on algae in jars under my bed.”

You laugh, picturing her younger, blonde hair in messy braids, glasses slipping down her nose as she scribbled notes by flashlight. “You sound like Reed when he was ten.”

Her eyes brighten with curiosity. “Reed Richards?” She leans closer, conspiratorial. “I met him earlier tonight. He is…very tall.”

You laugh harder. “That’s one way to put it.”

Elin smiles, but it’s shy. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “When my grandmother was diagnosed with Parkinson’s, everything changed. She went from being this…this pillar of strength in my family to someone who needed help with the smallest things. It broke me. So I promised myself I would find something, anything, that could help. My research is not a cure, but it opens a window. Neural plasticity is…astonishing, really. The brain is so much more adaptable than we once believed. I found a way to stimulate growth in degenerating pathways.”

You blink, genuinely awed. “That’s incredible, Elin.”

Her cheeks flush, as though praise embarrasses her. “Thank you. I worked myself sick for years. No sleep. No friends. Just the lab. I told myself it would be worth it if I ever made it here. And now…” She gestures around at the glittering gala, her hand brushing your arm in the process. “Here I am.”

Her touch lingers a second too long. Your stomach flips.

That heat at your back returns, prickling sharper now. You risk a glance across the ballroom. Reed is no longer pretending to listen to his conversation partner; his eyes are locked on Elin’s hand where it brushed you. Sue is even worse–her smile to the diplomat is thin as a blade, her eyes icy as she watches you lean closer to another woman.

And maybe you should pull away. Maybe you should politely excuse yourself.

But instead you smile at Elin, tipping your head. “Tell me more. What happens next? Where do you go from here?”

She exhales, relief written in her features at your genuine interest. “I don’t know. There are offers…Cambridge, Karolinska, even Stanford. But…” She hesitates, biting her lip. “I am not sure I want to leave home again. Sweden is…in my blood. My grandmother always said roots matter more than wings.”

It’s a lovely thought. You nod, sipping your champagne, eyes still locked on hers. She has a way of speaking that makes you feel like you’re the only one in the room.

Except you’re not.

The burn of Reed and Sue’s attention is molten now. You can feel them watching, dissecting, unraveling. You can almost hear Sue’s voice in your head. She’s touching your arm again?And Reed’s murmur. Do you have to smile like that at her?

You shouldn’t want to stoke it further. But you do.

So you laugh at Elin’s next story, a disastrous experiment with a centrifuge that flung samples across her lab, and you tilt your head just enough to bare your throat, laughing openly, invitingly.

Elin’s eyes flick down, then away quickly, embarrassed at her own wandering gaze. She stammers, “You have the most…beautiful laugh.”

You bite your lip, heat curling in your belly. You shouldn’t like this so much.

But you do.

Reed’s jaw is set across the room, his tie slightly askew from how long his fists have been clenched. Sue’s hand is tightening her glass stem so hard you’re surprised it hasn’t cracked. They’re drowning in their jealousy, and you’re standing here feeding it spoonful after spoonful.

“So,” you say, leaning in, “you win one of the biggest prizes in the world at twenty-nine. What’s next? Nobel?”

Elin blushes, shaking her head. “I…don’t know. I think maybe I would like to rest. To remember who I am outside of the lab. Perhaps…” She hesitates, then smiles softly, shyly. “Perhaps even fall in love.”

Your heart stutters. Oh. She’s not just brilliant. She’s bold enough to say that, here, to you, while Reed and Sue are watching.

You hold her gaze a heartbeat too long, letting the silence stretch, savoring the way she fidgets under your attention.

And then a hand sliding around your waist, anchoring you in place.

You know the touch instantly. Reed.

“Having fun, sweetheart?” His voice is low, deceptively calm, but his hand is flexing against your hip like he’s one second away from crushing you.

You inhale sharply, but before you can answer, Sue’s perfume envelops you. She slips to your other side, an arm curling through yours, tugging you close until your shoulder presses against the hard line of her body. Her lips brush your cheek, lingering.

“Darling,” she says sweetly, though her smile is aimed like a dagger at Elin, “we’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

Elin’s eyes widen. “Oh. I didn’t mean to–”

Reed’s voice cuts smooth and sharp. “We’ll be borrowing her now.”

Sue’s nails skim your arm, a touch that looks affectionate but feels like possession. “Enjoy the rest of your night.”

Elin stammers something polite, her face flushed crimson, and retreats into the crowd.

You exhale shakily.

Reed’s hand tightens on your waist until you’re nearly gasping. Sue leans in, lips brushing your ear as she whispers, voice silk over steel.

“Do you enjoy torturing us?”

You can’t help the smirk that curls your lips. Because yes. Yes, you do.

The ride home is a silent, the tension in the car so thick you can almost taste it. They’re clearly pissed.  You can feel their jealousy, a living thing, pulsing and twitching in the air, making your skin crawl and shiver all at once.

When the door to your hotel slams behind you, it’s like breaking through a dam. Reed is on you instantly, his hands tearing at your dress. The velvet gives way with a loud rip that makes you gasp. Sue is there in a heartbeat, fingers digging into your flesh. You can hear the sharp rustle of fabric as it hits the floor, your own quickened breaths mingling with theirs. The cool air winter brushes over your skin causing goosebumps.

 Reed presses you to the wall, his weight firm and inescapable, while his mouth claims yours in a bruising kiss before lifting you off the wall so Sue can have a taste. Her hands squeeze your ass and smack it so hard you gasp into Reed’s mouth.

"Is this what you wanted?" Reed growls against your lips, teeth grazing, "To make us crazy with need? To make us want to tear you apart?" 

Sue’s voice is low, "You like this, don’t you? You like us jealous, desperate. You like us rough." Her lips graze your neck and you shiver violently, knees almost buckling.

You can’t answer, not with Reed’s mouth on yours and Sue’s hands teasing your holes.  Reed’s fingers tighten on your throat, not choking, but commanding, and you gasp, eyes fluttering closed. Sue’s fingers finally slip inside of you, and your hips jerk against her touch.

Sue pulls back suddenly, and you whimper at the loss, the emptiness of her absence slicing through you. You glance over your shoulder to see Sue holding it, eyes dark. She packed the fucking strap.

"Bend over," Sue commands. You comply, bending over the arm of the couch, soft fabric pressing against your cheek. Sue’s hand slides over your back, lingering on your spine, her touch firm, leaving a trail of goosebumps. "You like this, don’t you? You like us rough with you. You like us to take what’s ours."

Reed is beside Sue, hands gripping your hips to keep you from squirming, grounding you while Sue puts it on. While she does, Reed smacks your ass even harder than Sue did. The first strike lands with a snap that reverberates through your bones, making your chest jump. Each subsequent strike is met with your sharp inhale, the sound of his hands on your skin echoing in the small room. Reed’s free hand kneads your sides, pressing, marking, rubbing in time with the strikes. 

“Ready for this?” Sue asks, practically growling. You nod, your breath coming in ragged gasps, fingers clutching at the couch.

“Good,” she says, leaning closer, letting her warm, wet breath fan over your ear. “Because I’m going to own you until you can’t even think straight. You’re ours, do you understand? Ours.”

And she does. The strap slides into you, filling, pressing, stretching you in a way that makes your muscles coil and tremble. You cry out, a sharp gasp, your body clenching around the sensation. Your hips jerk, desperate.

“Fuck, Sue,” you moan, “You feel… so good. So… fucking good.”

Reed’s hands clamp down on your hips, fingers digging hard enough to leave bruises. “You wanted this?” he murmurs, his voice a rumble against your skin. “Then don’t move. Don’t even breathe unless we let you.”

“You like that, don’t you?” Sue hisses, venomous with possession. “You love being this ours, being filled like this. I can feel how desperate you are… how much you need it. You love it when we control you.”

You can’t answer, not with Reed’s mouth close, holding you in place, and Sue fucking you to the edge. Reed’s fingers find your clit, rubbing in tight, circling motions that make sparks fire through your nerves.

“Reed…” you gasp, body trembling. “Reed, please… I need more. I can’t… I can’t take it.”

Sue’s movements sharpen, harder, faster, her voice slicing through the thick tension. “You’re soaked for me,” she growls, breath hot against your neck. “I can feel it. Dripping, leaking… you love being this out of control, don’t you? You love when we take over, don’t you?”

You can feel it; slickness coating your thighs, the sound of wet movement filling the room, your skin tingling.  “Yes,” you cry, “Yes, I love it. I love being yours. I love it when you take me.”

Reed’s hands are relentless, circling over you. “Come for us,” Reed commands, “Do it now. Don’t hold back.”

And you do. You scream, your body convulsing as waves of sensation crash over you. The release leaves you sobbing into the couch, hot tears streaking your face. Sue stays pressed against you, her movements drawing it out, refusing to let you fall. You’re a boneless, shaking mess, clinging to the cushions as the room echoes with your gasps.

When Sue finally pulls back, the emptiness of her absence cuts through you like a knife and you whimper at the loss. Reed drags you upright, his arms wrapping around you, holding you so tight you can feel his pulse hammering. Sue folds in behind you, arms snaking around both of you, her breath hot against your ear. The three of you tremble together, hearts racing, breaths coming in ragged gasps. You’re wrapped in them, held in a cage of bodies, and the possessiveness is almost choking.

But they’re not finished. Reed turns you sharply, his mouth claiming yours in a kiss, teeth catching your lip. Sue’s nails rake over your sides, leaving tiny red marks, squeezing you like she wants to bruise you into remembering her touch. Reed’s hands clamp around your hips, lifting you easily. You wrap yourself around his frame, arms at his neck, legs hooked at his waist, as if he’s carrying off a prize. 

Reed lays you on the bed, the sheets cool and damp against your overheated skin. Sue kneels beside you immediately, her hands roaming, nails scratching, mouth dragging over your neck and collarbone. Reed’s weight comes down over you, his breath hot on your face. You moan, hips arching up instinctively, the sound pathetic and needy. “Please,” you beg, your voice cracked, trembling. “Please, Reed. I need you. I-I don’t care what you do.”

Instead of giving you what you think you’re asking for, Reed slides down your body slowly, teeth grazing, hands pinning your thighs. His mouth hovers just above your skin, breath searing. You gasp, heat and anticipation clawing at you.

“Look at you,” Sue snarls beside you,  “Shaking for him. Soaked in sweat. You love it, don’t you? You love how we ruin you.”

“Yes,” you moan, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes. “Yes, I love it. I love it when you both do this to me. I love being yours.”

Reed’s head dips lower; his tongue flicks once, sending a shock through you, then retreats, making you whimper. His fingers tighten around your thighs, keeping you splayed, trembling, helpless. Sue drags her nails over your ribs, down your belly, marking you as she speaks. “Say it,” she hisses. “Say you’re ours. Say you like being ruined.”

Reed dives back into you, lapping your pussy like he’s punishing you. You want to claw your eyes out.

“I’m yours,” you whisper, then louder, “I’m yours. I like it. I like being ruined.”

“Good,” Sue breathes, lips at your ear. “Now give us everything.”

The two of them close in, heat and weight pressing down, the smell of sweat and damp sheets in the air, the sound of ragged breathing filling the room. You scream again as another orgasm rips through you, convulsing under their hold, overwhelmed until you’re nothing but trembling limbs and a hoarse voice. Reed collapses beside you, face slick with you, arm draped possessively over your waist; Sue molds herself to your back, her breath hot at your neck. They cage you in on both sides.

You’re safe in their arms, but it feels like a trap you’ve willingly walked into. Surrounded by their obsession, their heat, their hands, you know, as you press your damp cheek against them, that you’re theirs.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

“No.”

“Reed.” 

“No. I said no.”

You and Reed had been fighting in his lab for almost 3 hours, but it was just an endless circle of ‘yes’ and ‘no.’ 

“Reed, I am 30 years old, you can’t just say no to me like I’m a child,” Your arms were holding you up against the table. Without it you would have pushed off yourself and charged at him he was making you so mad. Deep down, you knew he meant well, but he was doing the thing he always promised not to do–treat you like you’re lesser than. 

Reed stepped forward with an accusatory finger. “I am the head of this team–”

“--that’s debateable.”

His lips were pressed into a thin line. He knew that was a petty comeback. You could do better than that. He sighed and you watched his face slowly soften. 

“Honey.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, “Reed, please. Right now, just treat me like your colleague, not your partner. Because if we look past you, me, and Sue’s dynamic, all of the facts are there. We’ve figured out most, if not all, of my powers. I don’t understand why you’ll let Sue fight and not me.”

His hands rested on his hips, the stance his body went into when he was stressed. 

“It’s different.”

You slapped the table and pointed at him, yelling now, “That is a pathetic response and you know it!”

His eyes were closed and his nose was pressed between his thumb and his index finger. 

“It’s true! It’s different. You…” He opened his eyes and saw you staring at him, jaw slightly slack and eyes glassy, “You weren’t on the ship when it first happened. A-and I’m glad you weren’t because I don’t think I had ever been so scared for the people I love in my life.”

He paused and chewed on his lower lip, “I ruined their lives up there. And they all tell me it’s fine but I have lived with that guilt every single fucking day of my life. Because I could have stopped it. I should have known, and-and that is something that I carry into my relationships with every single person, even my god damn son. My one year old,” his voice cracked and you took a step toward him. 

“I can’t even look at my own infant son without worrying that I’m going to do something that’s going to get him killed. Do you know how fucked that is? I mean…even Sue has said it hurts her. That I think like this. And it hurts me that I hurt her and it’s just this endless cycle that I can’t stop. But with you…” he stepped forward, “I can communicate my fears with you in a way I can’t communicate with Franklin. With you, I can tell you how worried I am that I am going to see you laying dead on the street just like I-...like I…” 

You stepped quickly forward and wrapped your arms around him and buried your face in his chest. His body froze within your grip at first, before he shrunk into your hold and kissed the top of your head. You felt a warm tear hit your scalp, but you didn’t say anything. He wasn’t a vulnerable man, so when he felt comfortable enough to open up to you, you wanted to let him. If he needed you to speak, you would speak. If he needed you to be silent, you would be silent. 

The shriek of Reed’s fantastiwatch made you jump out of his embrace. Reed flinches and when he pulls the device up to his face, his whole posture shifts. The fight between you is pushed down–maybe not resolved, but buried under the alert.

“Super-Skrull,” he mutters under his breath, eyes flicking across the readings. His mouth hardens, the familiar cold mask of ‘leader’ falling over his features.

You fold your arms, “Then you need me.”

Reed’s head snaps up, mouth already forming a protest. You raise a hand before he can speak. “Don’t. Don’t say it. You and I both know you’ll need every advantage. I can stop time, Reed. I can move things with my mind. I’m not a liability.”

His lips press into a thin line. He looks at you like he’s weighing the whole universe in that elastic brain of his, calculating risks, outcomes, probabilities. 

Finally, he exhales and mutters, “Damn it.” His eyes meet yours, “Fine. Come on.”

Your heart lurches. For a split second you wonder if you heard him wrong. “Are you serious?”

Reed nods, already moving toward the door. “Don’t make me regret this.”

You don’t know whether to grin or scream, but your chest feels like it might burst. You sprint after him, only to skid to a stop when Sue appears in the hall, already halfway zipped into her suit. She takes one look at you following Reed and her brows furrow.

“She’s coming,” Reed says firmly, brushing past her.

Sue’s eyes widen, flicking from him to you. “Reed–”

“She’s coming,” he repeats.

Sue’s mouth opens, closes. She looks at you, hesitant, but after a long pause, she exhales. “Then she’s not wearing that.” She disappears into their quarters, and a moment later, she’s back with a folded navy-and-white suit in her arms. “It’s one of my old ones. Try it.”

The fabric is cool and soft under your fingers. For a moment, the weight of it hits you–it feels like initiation, like the unspoken agreement that you’re no longer just orbiting the Fantastic Four. You’re stepping inside.

You duck into the spare room and peel out of your clothes, slipping into the suit. It clings like a second skin, hugging every curve, the material stretching with you. When you step out, Sue’s lips curve into the faintest smile.

“You look good,” she puts it plainly, but you know once this is all settled that the suit is coming off.

Johnny and Ben are already in the hangar when you arrive. Johnny looks up from adjusting his gloves, and his jaw drops.

“Oh, hell yes!” His grin is wicked, delighted. “No way. You’re coming?”

“Yeah,” you say simply, tugging at the zipper on your chest to settle it.

Johnny whistles low. “Oh, this is gonna be so fun.”

Ben snorts, “About damn time. Maybe you’ll show these hotshots how it’s done.”

“Or get killed,” Johnny adds unhelpfully.

Sue smacks his arm before you can respond. “Enough. She’s with us, and that means you watch her back.”

Johnny shrugs, still grinning like this is the best news he’s heard all week.

The fantasticar hums beneath you as it rises into the night sky. You’re strapped in between Sue and Reed, your stomach tightening with every mile farther from home. The city lights vanish beneath the clouds, and your reflection stares back at you from the glass: you, in a Fantastic Four uniform.

Reed’s hand finds yours. His thumb rubs slow circles into your wrist, the same pattern he never stopped doing when he was anxious. “Stay close to me,” he murmurs, low enough only you can hear. “If it gets too dangerous–”

“I won’t run,” you cut in.

His mouth twitches like he wants to argue but doesn’t. Instead, he leans down and presses the quickest kiss to your temple before pulling back.

Sue, on your other side, squeezes your thigh. “You’ll do fine. Just remember what we practiced.” Her voice softens. “And don’t let Johnny distract you.”

You smile despite yourself.

The car shudders as it descends, and when the hatch opens, you’re hit with the smell of smoke and scorched metal. The city below is chaos– there’s a collapsed building, fire licking through broken glass, civilians screaming in the distance. And in the center of it all, is Super-Skrull.

His body is alien-green under the flames, his limbs stretching and shifting with every stolen power, with flame flickering across one arm, jagged rock forming another, elastic limbs snapping out like whips, invisible shields shimmering around him. He’s all of them in one. You had heard of him before but never saw it in real life.

“Remember,” Reed says tightly, “he’s dangerous, but predictable. He’ll try to split us up. Don’t let him.”

Ben leaps first, landing with a thunderous crack that makes the ground shudder. 

Johnny bursts into flame beside you, shooting skyward in a streak of fire. Sue erects a shield around the civilians to corral them to safety. It’s so different seeing them out here, doing this. Usually you were left at home when missions happened and they would return your same old family. It’s like you forgot that underneath it all, they were still the Fantastic Four.

And Reed looks at you. Just one look. Then he nods. “Go.”

The fight explodes around you. Johnny’s flames crash against Super-Skrull’s shield, Ben grapples with a massive stone fist, Reed’s arms whip forward to restrain him. You stand at the edge for a second too long, heart hammering, until the world seems to slow down…your powers pull at you, whispering.

You raise your hand and time quickly stutters. The flames, the shouts, the crash of fists, it all slows into syrup, like the world is caught in honey. You step forward, the only thing moving at full speed, and slam your telekinesis into a car teetering on the edge of collapse, flinging it safely away from a trapped family.

Then you release time. The world roars back to life.

Super-Skrull’s glowing eyes snap toward you. “Ah. What’s this?” His voice is a guttural sneer. 

He lunges, elastic limbs snapping toward you. You throw up your hands instinctively, and a wave of telekinesis blasts out, shoving him back hard enough to crack pavement. But the recoil slams through your skull, a spike of pain behind your eyes.

“Watch it!” Sue’s voice cuts through, her shield flaring just as Super-Skrull retaliates with a boulder-sized fist of rock. It smashes harmlessly against her barrier, sparks flying.

Reed stretches around you, his body whipping like a lasso to yank Super-Skrull back, but the alien morphs his arm into fire and sears through the grasp.

You see the opening. Heart pounding, you freeze time again. The world halts mid-motion yet again, flames still, Ben’s fist caught inches from striking, Sue’s shield glowing. You step forward, your chest aching from the strain, and shove your power at the ground beneath Super-Skrull. The earth buckles, craters, and when you release time…

He slams into the pit with a roar.

Ben doesn’t waste the chance. He drops his whole massive body down, fists pounding, the sound reverberating through the street. Johnny streaks overhead, raining fire in precision arcs to corral the Skrull back down when he tries to leap out.

But he’s relentless. His body twists, flames blasting, rocks jutting, elastic limbs smacking Ben hard enough to throw him into a wall. Sue cries out, throwing a shield up just in time to keep debris from crushing a family.

Reed is shouting orders, stretching to bind him again, and your chest heaves with every breath. You reach deeper, pulling harder on your telekinesis, yanking at steel beams, at loose wires, anything around you. You fling them toward Super-Skrull in a whirlwind, pinning his arms long enough for Reed to slam his own elastic limbs down like bands.

Sue steps in, shields layering over his body like a glowing cage. Johnny lands in front of you, flames guttering out as he grins wildly. “Not bad.”

You can’t even catch your breath to roll your eyes.

With a final scream, Super-Skrull thrashes, then collapses under the combined force.

The city is quiet again–smoldering, ruined, but quiet.

Reed is at your side in a heartbeat, hands cupping your face. His voice is tight,. “Are you okay? Tell me you’re okay.”

You nod, though your head is pounding from the strain. “I’m fine. That wasn’t bad.”

Sue comes up on your other side, eyes softer than you’ve ever seen them. “You were incredible.”

Johnny claps you on the back, nearly knocking you forward. “Welcome to the team, hotshot.”

And Ben, brushing rubble from his rocky shoulders, chuckles low. “We’re keeping her Reed. Not like in the house anymore. On the team.”

You’re exhausted, trembling, but you can’t stop the smile breaking across your face. For the first time, you’re not just orbiting them. You’re one of them.

–

So you were wrong. The suit didn’t come off. 

You went to unzip it when you got back but Sue stopped your hand from lowerring the zipper. You raised an eyebrow. 

“Keep it on.” 

Reed was in the shower, so you thought all the fun was going to happen later. 

Her fingers drift lazily over your hip, skimming the edge of the suit as though she’s mapping the outline of your body from memory. She doesn’t push, doesn’t grab, just lets the lightest touch make you ache. You can feel your pulse quicken under her hand, heat gathering low in your belly before she’s even asked anything of you.

Her lips tilt into the faintest smile, eyes steady on yours. “Come here.”

The command is soft, but it leaves no room for argument. She sits at the edge of the bed and guides you to straddle her thigh. The pressure is immediate and almost startling. You whine, but her hand settles firmly at your waist, steadying you.

“Slowly,” she whispers, and her thumb strokes small circles into your side as if to calm you. “Don’t rush this. I want you to feel every second.”

You obey, rolling your hips tentatively against her. The fabric of your suit drags over her, creating a friction that makes your breath catch. Of all the things you tried with them, this was not one that you did often, despite it’s simplicity. And with how you were feeling, you couldn’t help but wonder why the fuck you didn’t do this more. Each movement presses your core tighter against her thigh, and you can feel the dense muscle beneath her skin giving you something solid to grind against.

“That’s it,” Sue says, almost teasing. “Just like that. Stay steady for me.”

Your hips find a rhythm, small at first, careful, almost shy. You feel bad–she’s not getting anything here. She just wants to see you come all around her thigh. 

The sensation builds with each glide, each press, until your body moves with more urgency. The pressure sparks and spreads, every grind feeding the ache between your legs. You can hear the quiet sounds you’re making like you’re out of your own body and you want to swallow them down, but Sue won’t let you hide.

“Don’t hold back,” she whispers, leaning closer, her breath hot against your ear. “I want to hear you…let me hear what I’m doing to you.”

Your pace falters at her words, hips bucking too quickly, and she notices instantly. Her grip tightens, guiding you back into control. “Not like that,” she chides softly. “Slow it down. Make it last.”

You whimper, frustrated at the restraint, but you listen. Your hips roll with aching deliberation now, dragging your center over the hard line of her thigh, drawing out the friction until it borders on unbearable. The suit clings to your skin, damp with sweat and arousal, every shift making you hyperaware of the barrier between you.

She strokes your back, grounding you. “That’s better. Feel how close you already are? You don’t need to chase it. Let it come to you.”

Her words sink into you and you surrender to her pace. Each roll of your hips grinds you deeper, firmer against her thigh, the fabric catching just enough to make you whimper. Your legs tremble with the effort of holding yourself there, but she keeps you anchored, one hand at your waist, the other drifting up your spine to the back of your neck.

“Good girl,” Sue breathes, and the praise makes your hips stutter. “Keep going. I can feel you shaking already.”

Your movements grow more desperate despite yourself. You grind harder now, angling your hips to find the pressure that makes sparks shoot through your body. Every drag builds heat between your thighs until you’re almost sobbing with it, your forehead pressing into her shoulder for something to cling to.

Her hand slips lower, cupping your ass through the suit, squeezing to guide your rhythm. “Just like that,” she rasps, “Stay right there. Let it take you.”

You moan openly as you roll your hips faster, harder, chasing the friction you can’t resist anymore. The ache swells, every movement dragging you closer. Sue presses her thigh upward against you, giving you something more to grind on, and the added pressure unravels what little control you had left.

“That’s it,” she hasn’t broken eye contact, “Let go for me. Right here. Now.”

The command shatters you. Your hips jerk helplessly, grinding down with a desperate, shaking rhythm until the release rips through you. You cry out, your body seizing against her as pleasure crashes over you. You press your mouth into her shoulder to bite back the scream you want to release.

Sue holds you through it, arms steady, one hand cradling your head as the other keeps you pressed tight to her. She rocks you gently against her thigh until the tremors ease.“Breathe. That’s it. Let it all out. You did so well.”

Your body sags against hers, boneless and trembling.  She smooths your hair back from your damp face, her touch gentle now. “You’re safe,” she whispers. “I’ve got you.”

Chapter Text

It was like clock work for you. Once a year, around October, you would get such a bad head cold you thought you were going to die. You tried everything throughout the years and literally nothing worked. You tried mucinex and advil and temporary inhalers and hot showers…nothing. But the world couldn’t stop for two weeks because your fucking body couldn’t respond to medicine. So you kept working and tried to keep your interaction with people to a minimum. 

At least, that’s what you did before you lived in teh Baxter Building. After working in the lab, you stepped off the elevator, trying your damnedest not to cough up your lungs. It wasn’t working. 

“Fuck…me…” you muttered between coughs, slightly hunched over. You heard steps quickly  approaching, but you didn’t even have the energy to figure out who it was. You were too busy gasping for air. 

A blur of blue and gray appeared at the edge of your vision.
“Are you choking?” Reed’s voice was  alarmed, and entirely too loud for your pounding head. He reached you in two long strides (you don’t know if he stretched over or just moved really fast), one hand already hovering near your back. “Do you need the Heimlich? Sue! She’s choking!”

You tried to wave him off but ended up coughing harder. “I’m–” heave “--not–” gag “--choking, Reed!”

“Are you sure?” His eyes darted over you like he was scanning for hidden injuries. “Because it sounds very much like you’re choking.”

“Cold,” you managed to wheeze out, glaring through watery eyes. “I have a cold, not–” another cough “--a death wish.”

By the time you finished dying, Sue appeared behind him, floating in with the kind of grace that only made you more aware of how awful you felt.

“What’s going on? Did something happen?”

“She’s sick,” Reed said gravely, as if he’d just diagnosed a new form of the plague. “Severe coughing. Possibly feverish. Look at her, she’s pale.”

“Reed, she’s always pale,” Sue said gently, but her brow furrowed as she looked at you. “Oh, sweetheart. You do look miserable.”

“What the hell do you mean I’m always pale? I’m fine,” you croaked, straightening up and instantly regretting it when your vision swayed. “It’s just a little–”

Reed was already guiding you toward the couch, his arm warm and steady around your shoulders. “Sit. Don’t argue.”

“I’m not arguing,” you grumbled. “I just don’t want to be–”

Sue tucked a blanket around you before you could finish. “Babied?” she said knowingly.

“Yes! Exactly!” you said, pointing a triumphant finger, only to ruin your victory by sneezing hard enough to nearly throw your shoulder out.

Sue smiled. “Too late for that. You look like you’re about to collapse.”

“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself,” you muttered.

Reed frowned, kneeling in front of you to take your wrist. “Your pulse is elevated.”

“Because you’re stressing me out,” you said through a cough.

He ignored you entirely. “Sue, she needs fluids and decongestants. And probably acetaminophen for her fever.”

“I don’t have a–” you started, but Sue pressed her cool palm to your forehead and clicked her tongue.

“Sweetheart, you’re burning up.”

“I’m not–”

“She’s burning up,” Reed confirmed.

You groaned, dragging the blanket over your face. “I hate you guys.”

“No, you don’t,” Sue said sweetly.

“Yes, I do.”

“No, you don’t,” Reed echoed, patting your knee. “You love us.”

You peeked out from the blanket just to glare at him. “Not right now.”

He had the audacity to smile. “You’ll change your mind after I get you hydrated.”

He disappeared into the kitchen. You tried to stand while he was gone, but Sue caught you mid-motion and gently pushed you back down. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“To die quietly in my room.”

“Absolutely not,” she said, voice firm. “You’ll die here, where we can keep an eye on you.”

“Comforting,” you mumbled, sinking deeper into the couch.

Reed returned with an alarming amount of supplies; a glass of water, a thermometer, two kinds of medicine, and what looked suspiciously like a stethoscope.

“Oh, no,” you said, eyeing the pile. “You are not–”

“Open,” he said, holding the thermometer out.

“Reed.”

“Open,” he repeated, in the same voice he used on Johnny when he refused to wear lab goggles.

You groaned and obeyed, shooting Sue a look that said, ‘you see what I deal with?’

She only smiled and smoothed your hair back. “You’re lucky he loves you.”

“I feel so lucky,” you said flatly around the thermometer.

When the beep finally sounded, Reed frowned. “One-hundred and one.”

Sue sighed. “Poor thing.”

You threw your hands up weakly. “It’s a cold.”

Reed looked at you like you’d said you were fine with a broken arm. “There’s nothing ‘just’ about a viral infection. It taxes your immune system and slows recovery time. You shouldn’t be working right now.”

“You sound like WebMD,” you muttered, ignoring the fact that this was the smartest man in the world.

He didn’t hear you. He was already measuring out medicine. “Here. Ibuprofen for the fever, guaifenesin for the congestion.”

“I don’t want it.”

“You’ll take it.”

Sue laughed softly. “You two sound like Franklin.”

At the mention of their son, you sighed. “Great. I’m officially being treated like a toddler.”

“That’s because you act like one when you’re sick,” Sue teased, setting another blanket on your lap. “And toddlers get warm baths.”

You narrowed your eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Reed stood, holding out a hand. “Come on. Bath time.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Reed, I swear–”

He simply raised an eyebrow.

Sue leaned in conspiratorially. “If you behave, I’ll make you soup.”

You groaned. “You’re bribing me with soup now?”

“Chicken noodle,” she sang.

Your stomach betrayed you with a low grumble. “Fine,” you mumbled, dragging yourself off the couch. “But only because I’m weak.”

“That’s the spirit,” Sue said, following you toward the bathroom.

The next ten minutes were pure humiliation. Reed ran the bath like you were an overgrown child, testing the temperature with scientific precision. Sue added a few drops of eucalyptus oil, which filled the room with a sharp, soothing scent.

“I can do this myself,” you said for the hundredth time.

“Clearly you can’t,” Reed replied mildly, gesturing at the trail of tissues you’d left behind.

Sue giggled, setting a towel nearby. “He has a point.”

You glared at both of them but sank into the water anyway. The heat hit you instantly, loosening the congestion in your chest and easing the ache in your muscles. Despite yourself, a low sigh escaped your throat.

“Better?” Sue asked softly.

You nodded, too tired to lie. “Yeah.”

“Good,” Reed said. “Fifteen minutes. Then bed.”

“Bossy.”

“Efficient,” he corrected.

When they left you alone, you let your head tip back against the tub’s edge, eyes half-closed. The scent of eucalyptus mixed with the faint hum of the building’s air system, and for the first time all day, your body stopped fighting itself.

Eventually, there was a knock. Sue peeked in, holding a fluffy robe. “Time’s up baby..”

You grumbled but stood, letting her wrap you up and guide you back to your room. Reed was already there, adjusting the pillows like a man preparing for surgery.

“I can make my own bed, you know,” you said.

“I doubt that,” Reed replied, fluffing a pillow.

You scowled but climbed in anyway. Sue sat on the edge of the bed, setting down a tray with tea and, true to her word, soup.

“Eat,” she said.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Just the broth, then.”

You took a sip, if only to stop her from watching you so closely. It was annoyingly good.

Reed sat on the other side of the bed, reading your temperature again with his hand. “Still warm.”

“You’re smothering me,” you mumbled, your voice sleepy now.

Sue smiled. “That’s kind of the point.”

“I hate it.”

“No, you don’t,” she said softly, tucking the blanket up under your chin.

You wanted to argue, but your eyelids were already drooping. The warmth of the bath, the medicine, and their quiet chatter blended into something soft and hazy. Reed’s hand stayed on your arm, his thumb tracing absent circles against your skin, and Sue’s presence beside you was steady, grounding.

You drifted in and out of sleep. At some point, you heard the faint sound of Johnny outside the door muttering, “You guys do realize she’s sick, not dying, right?”

“Out,” Reed’s voice said firmly.

Sue giggled. “He’s not wrong.”

“She’s resting,” Reed replied.

“I’m right here,” you croaked, eyes still shut.

Sue leaned down to kiss your forehead. “Then go back to sleep my love..”

You mumbled something unintelligible and turned over. A few minutes later, you felt the mattress dip with Reed settling beside you, probably intending to keep watch, because of course he couldn’t help himself.

“Reed,” you whispered without opening your eyes, “if you start taking my vitals in my sleep, I swear I’ll cough on you.”

He chuckled quietly. “Noted.”

Sue joined on your other side, pulling the blanket up again, her cool hand brushing against your cheek. “You’re safe. Just rest.”

You wanted to protest again, to insist that you were fine, but the warmth and steady rhythm of their breathing lulled you into quiet. Somewhere in the haze between sleep and waking, you realized it wasn’t so bad being babied…at least not by them.

You woke to the quiet hum of the building and the faint, unmistakable scent of coffee. For a blissful few seconds, you forgot you were sick until your throat reminded you otherwise, scratchy and dry, and your nose was so stuffed that breathing felt like a part-time job.

A groan escaped you before you even opened your eyes.

“Good morning,” came Sue’s voice from somewhere to your left, “How’s my favorite invalid?”

You cracked one eye open. The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting her in soft gold. She was sitting in an armchair near your bed, legs tucked under her, reading something on her tablet.

“You’ve been sitting there watching me?” you rasped.

She smiled over the top of the screen. “Supervision. Doctor’s orders.”

“Reed’s not a medical doctor,” you mumbled, rolling over.

“I have three doctorates,” came Reed’s voice from the doorway, “So technically, I am.”

You groaned into your pillow. “You two are insufferable.”

“Not according to your vitals,” Reed said cheerfully, setting a steaming mug on your nightstand. “You slept through the night, your fever broke around 3 a.m., and your heart rate’s back to baseline.”

You squinted at him. “Were you monitoring me in my sleep again?”

He hesitated. “Only passively.”

Sue laughed, setting her tablet aside. “He had the sensors under your pillow.”

You sat up slowly, glaring at both of them. “You two are unfucking real.”

“We love you,” Sue said sweetly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Now, how do you feel?”

“Like I was hit by a bus,” you croaked. “Twice.”

“Progress,” Reed said brightly, as though this were great news.

You gave him a look. “That was sarcasm.”

“Ah,” he said, unfazed. “Then perhaps a shower would help.”

You shook your head. “Too cold.”

“We can make it warm,” Sue offered.

“Too much effort.”

Reed sighed, like your resistance to recovery was a personal affront to science itself. “You have to move around eventually, you know.”

You sank deeper into the blankets. “Do I?”

Sue smiled softly. “You really are a terrible patient.”

“I warned you both,” you said through a yawn.

Reed exchanged a look with Sue, the kind that made you instantly suspicious. “What are you two plotting?”

“Breakfast,” Sue said innocently. “You need to eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You said that about dinner,” Reed said. “And lunch.”

“That’s because I wasn’t hungry!”

Sue tilted her head. “Would you be hungry if it was pancakes?”

You hesitated. “…Maybe.”

“With blueberries?”

You squinted. “You’re being manipulative.”

“I prefer persuasive,” she said, already standing. “Reed, help me in the kitchen?”

“Of course,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head before following her out.

You blinked after them, still not entirely used to how casually affectionate they were and how they both somehow managed to make being fussed over feel both irritating and comforting at once.

You tried to stand, immediately regretted it, and ended up wrapped in your blanket like a burrito, shuffling toward the kitchen by sheer willpower.

When you got there, Sue was at the stove, flipping pancakes, and Reed was standing beside her reading the ingredients on the syrup bottle.

“She’s up,” Sue said without turning around. “Feeling adventurous?”

You sniffled. “Define adventurous.”

Reed looked up. “She means, do you want butter or not?”

You leaned against the counter. “Both. Obviously.”

Sue grinned. “That’s the spirit.”

You watched them move around each other like a practiced dance and for a moment, despite your pounding head and congested nose, it almost felt… peaceful. Domestic. Like this was just a regular morning and not one where your sinuses were staging a rebellion.

When you finally sat down, Reed handed you a fork with a flourish. “Eat slowly. You’re still recovering.”

You gave him a flat look. “Reed, it’s pancakes.”

“Still,” he said, sitting beside you, “there’s an optimal speed for digestion.”

Sue rolled her eyes. “Ignore him.”

You took a bite and instantly hummed in approval. “Okay. Fine. You’re both forgiven.”

Sue smirked. “Told you pancakes work.”

Reed reached over to pour more syrup onto your plate without asking, his version of tenderness. “I’ll still make you tea afterward. For your throat.”

“God, you’re relentless,” you said, but your voice softened at the edges.

“I prefer consistent,” he said.

“Of course you do.”

Sue leaned back in her chair, sipping coffee. “You know, I don’t think we’ve ever seen you stay still this long.”

“I hate it,” you said around another bite of pancake. “I’m losing brain cells by the minute.”

“Good,” Reed said mildly. “Then maybe you’ll finally stop overworking yourself.”

You kicked him under the table. “Rude.”

Sue chuckled. “He’s not wrong, though.”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” you said, standing up, which was a mistake. The room tilted slightly.

Immediately, Reed was at your side, steadying you with a hand at your elbow. “Careful.”

“I’m fine,” you insisted, swaying slightly.

“Sure you are,” he said dryly, guiding you toward the couch.

Sue followed, draping another blanket over you like she’d been waiting for this exact moment.

“This is ridiculous,” you muttered.

“Ridiculously cozy,” Sue corrected. “You’re welcome.”

You crossed your arms, trying not to smile. “You two are never going to let me live this down, are you?”

“Not a chance,” Reed said, settling on your other side.

Sue rested her head on your shoulder, voice soft. “Next year, when you inevitably get sick again, we’ll remind you of this and skip straight to the pancakes.”

You laughed weakly, letting your head fall back. “You’re both unbelievable.”

Reed’s arm came around you, warm and careful. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“It’s not,” you admitted quietly.

Sue eventually murmured, “You should rest again.”

“I just woke up.”

“Exactly,” Reed said.

You rolled your eyes but didn’t move. The weight of their presence, the warmth, the quiet…it was impossible to fight against.

“Fine,” you sighed, nestling deeper between them. “But if you two start monitoring my breathing again, I swear–”

Reed chuckled. “Duly noted.”

Sue smiled, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Go to sleep, sweetheart. We’ve got you.”

You did.

And when you woke again later, the fever gone and your throat a little clearer, you found a folded note on the coffee table in Reed’s careful handwriting:

Soup in the fridge. Rest or else. –R

Underneath, Sue had scrawled in looping script:

He means it. Love you.

You laughed softly, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself.

For once, being sick didn’t feel so bad.

Chapter Text

“FUCK!”

You, Reed, and Sue weren’t that self conscious about being loud during sex.

“OH MY GOD OH MY GOD–”

You. Reed, and Sue were especially loud when Johnny and Ben took Franklin for the night so you guys could have a pre-’wedding’ night to yourselves. 

You took a sip from your champagne that you poured yourself and leaned back against the couch, your bare ass pushing against the soft material of the couch. You could feel yourself getting wetter, watching Reed fuck Sue sensless like a pervert.

“You can watch, but I want you to be naked and ready for me. But don’t even think about touching yourself,” Reed rasped in your ear when you asked, “When I get to you, I want you shaking from the pressure.”

You wanted to be a good girl and follow the rules. But the sound of Sue’s moans and the way her toes curled into the bed sheets made you slowly roll your hips forward on the couch. Just enough so you got a little bit of pressure on your clit. That’s not breaking the rules…right? 

Then Reed whined.

“Fuck Susan…” you heard him groan through his teeth as he continued to pound into her. Susan. Fuck, Susan. He sounded so pathetic calling her by her full name like that, like he was worshipping everything she did to him, even though she was on the bottom (this time around). 

You rocked your hips harder, and you could see the very faint stain of arousal you left on the couch as you moved. That could come out in the wash. 

You threw your free hand to your mouth a bit down on it so they wouldn’t hear you doing exactly what they told you not to do.

You’ve never seen either of them fuck so aggresively. The slap of Reed's balls against Sue's skin is a wet sound, almost rhythmic that matches the pounding of your own heart. You want them in your hands, massaging just how he likes it.

Wait.

It looked like Sue had dissapeared for a moment before you realized–she was going in and out of invisibility. One moment, she was there, her skin glistening with sweat, her curves on full display. The next, she's gone, replaced by a shimmering void that only serves to heighten your anticipation for when they were finished. 

Your belly feels warm with arousal, a tight, pleasurable ache that spreads through your entire body as you move your hips faster and faster amd dig yourself deeper and deeper into the fabric.

Reed's groans grow louder, more desperate. "Fuck, Susan," he grunts "You feel so good." 

Sue's moans are a high, keening sound.  "Reed, yes, oh God, yes," she cries out, her voice shaking with each thrust.

Your hips move faster, the pressure on your clit building to a fever pitch. The damp spot on the couch grows and you can feel the warmth spreading through your body, a tight, pleasurable ache that leaves you trembling. The thought of Reed and Sue’s hands on you, their bodies pressed against yours, pushes you closer to the edge, your moans growing louder despite your efforts to suppress them into your hand.

Sue's cries reach a fever pitch. "Oh my God!" she screams. 

The sound of her orgasm is your undoing. You let out a moan, your body shaking into the couch. The champagne glass slips from your hand, spilling its contents onto the couch, but you barely notice, whimpering into your hand.

Reed and Sue, breathless and flushed, turn to you, their eyes wide with a mix of shock and amusement that you were actually fucking yourself on the couch.

"Fuck!" Reed exclaims, a grin spreading across his face. "I thought I told you not to touch yourself…fucking dirty girl, using a couch to get off." His voice is playful, a tease rather than a reprimand. Sue's eyes sparkle like her force fields as she props herself up on one elbow, watching you with a knowing smile. 

"Looks like someone couldn't follow the rules," she teases, her voice breathless and satisfied. She turns to Reed, “Shall I?” 

He was still trying to catch his breath, but you were too focused on the Sue’s tits as they heaved and glistened ever so slightly with sweat.

“AH!” You squeaked as Reed stretched his arm and scooped you by the waist and had you replace his seat on the bed. 

“Get her ready Suze,” he winked and sat on the couch. 

You drew your attention back to Sue, who was crawling herself closer to you on her hands and knees. With a gentle shove, she pushed you back against the bed. 

As Sue leaned in, her body pressed against yours, the warmth of her skin seeping into you. Her lips brush against your ear, "You've been such a naughty girl," she whispers, her voice a sultry purr. "But I like naughty girls. They taste the sweetest."

Her hands roam your body, tracing lines of fire with her fingertips. She teased your nipples, rolling them between her fingers, eliciting a gasp from you. "Sensitive, aren't we?" she murmurs, not breaking eye contact with you.

As her fingers finally reach your clit, she rubs fast. She knew what that did to you. She was punishing you. "Oh God, Sue," you moan, your hips bucking against her touch. She chuckles, a low, throaty sound. "That's it, baby. Let me hear you."

Her forcefields activate without warning, a pulsating pressure inside you that complements her fingers perfectly. You love being in a relationship with superheroes.

"Fuck! God damn it that feels good," you cry out, your body arching off the bed.

Sue leans down, her lips her fingers on your clit. Her tongue explores your pussy like she never tasted it before. She licked every crevice of you, ever fold.  "You taste amazing," she murmurs against your clit. "The most amazing meal. I’m gonna eat you every night after we get married baby."

You couldn’t see Reed on the couch, but you heard him whine. "Fuck, that's hot…Keep going, Suze. Make her come undone."

Sue's fingers made their way back to your clit and moved faster, almost aggresively, her forcefields pulsing in sync with your racing heart. The room fills with the sounds of your moans, "That's it, baby," Sue whispers, her voice breathless with her own arousal. "Let yourself go. Feel the pleasure."

She slides two fingers inside you, curling them to hit that sweet spot. The combination of her fingers and her forcefields is overwhelming, pushing you to the edge of ecstasy. "Oh my God, Sue," you moan, your body writhing under her touch. "I'm so close."

Sue's thumb finds your clit, rubbing it in tight circles while she continues to stroke your walls, "Come for me, baby," she coos, her voice a seductive purr. "Let me feel you fall apart."

Your body tensing as the orgasm approaches. Sue's touch is relentless, her forcefields pushing you over the edge. You cry out, your body convulsing with the force of your release. "Oh my God, Sue!" you scream,  “Oh my god!"

Your tense, shaking with the intensity of your orgasm that seems to last forever. Sue rides out your climax with you, her fingers and forcefields continuing to stimulate you until you're a trembling, gasping mess. As you come down from the high, she gently withdraws her fingers, a satisfied smile on her face. She holds her fingers by your mouth. 

“Suck. Taste how good you are.”

You open your mouth, eyes droopy as you suck her fingers into your mouth. She doesn’t break eye contact with you and bites her lip as you slowly suck.

 “Jesus…” she mutters and turns to Reed, “You good?”

He appeared over you, his cock hard once more. You instincivly reach out to touch it, but he grasped your wrist and tsked.

“If I’m coming anywhere it’s inside of you,” He flipped you around so his back was on the bed, and you straddled his thighs, your hands softly resting on his chest. You turned your head slowly to try and see where Sue was, but Reed reached for your face and held your cheek like you were the most fragile thing in the world. 

“Look at me…focus on me,” he stared into your soul like he was waiting for some sign. Some, ‘okay.’ So you gave a single nod and raised your hips, lining your already sensitive entrance up with his cock that was screaming to be felt.

Slowly, you raise your hips, feeling the head of his cock pressed against your entrance. You're already so sensitive, but you lower yourself onto him, inch by inch, savoring the sensation of being filled once again. Reed's hands grip tighter your hips, guiding you, helping you find the perfect rhythm.

As you start to move, you can feel every ridge, every vein of his cock, hitting all the right spots inside you. Reed's breath hitches, and he lets out a low groan, his eyes never leaving yours. "Fuck, you feel so good," he murmurs, his voice strained with desire.

You lean forward, your hands pressing against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palms. You can feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles coil and uncoil with each of your movements. You used to always get insecure with how you rode your partners, but Reed always looked up at you like you were a god.  

Reed's hands roam your body, tracing the curve of your spine, the swell of your ass, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. He leans up, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking and nibbling until you're gasping and writhing above him.

You feel a kiss against the back of your ear. Sue. You turn your head to see her, strap already on and smiling. She crawls onto the bed, her body pressing against yours, her hands roaming your skin, tracing the lines of your body as if she's outlining a drawing.

Reed releases your nipple with a pop, a trail of saliva connecting from your chest to his mouth. "Sue," he rasps, "Join us."

Sue doesn't need to be told twice. She positions herself behind you, her strap-on pressing against your ass. You can feel the cool lubricant and wonder what the fuck she’s planning on doing. She leans down, her lips brushing against your ear. "You ready for this, baby?" she whispers.

You weakly nod and she thrusts into your ass without so much as a count of three. 

You have never felt such pain in your life.

No.

Scratch that. 

You’ve never felt such nice pain in your life. You lean into the headboard of the bed and shriek. 

“Fuck! Oh fuck! I can’t…I can’t-”

Reed’s hand flew back up to your cheek, stroking your lip with his thumb.

 “Breathe, sweetheart,” you closed your eyes and inhaled, “Just like that. You’re incredible. Keep going…it’ll feel good.”

You let yourself breath for a moment before raising and lowering yourself on his cock again, and Sue starts thrusting into you.

You let out some sort of groan and whine mix through your teeth, back arched into Reed so that Sue had a good angle of your ass. She slapped it hard mid thrust.

“I don’t even think you’re aware of the fucking ass you have baby girl,” she rasped, hands finding themselves back on your hips. You felt so full that you could barely respond.

“You’re doing perfectly,” Reed groaned and started to thrust up into you even harder.

Each thrust from Sue pushes you deeper onto Reed, and the friction between their cocks and your sensitive flesh is almost too much to bear.

Reed's cock twitches inside you,  and you smile through the overstimulation. That meant you were good. You can feel every inch of him, every ridge and vein pressing against your walls. Sue's thrusts become faster, more urgent, her hands gripping your hips tightly as she pounds into you with relentless force. The room is filled with the sounds of your screams, the slapping of skin against skin, and the occasional moan or gasp as you all chase your release.

Reed's voice is a low. "Fuck, you're so tight," he rasps, his hands roaming your body, tracing the curves of your hips and ass. "I can almost feel Sue's cock through your walls. It's so fucking hot."

You let out a groan, a sound torn from deep within your throat. "Reed... it's too much," you gasp, your body trembling with the intensity of the sensations. "I can't... I can't handle it."

Reed's hands grip your hips tighter, his fingers digging into your flesh. "You can, sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice filled with a mix of command and tenderness. "You're made for this. You're made for us."

Sue's thrusts become even more insistent, her body pressing against your back, her breath hot against your ear. "That's it, baby," she murmurs. "Take it all. Show us how much you can handle."

You can feel the pressure building inside you, a coiled spring ready to snap. Reed's eyes are locked onto yours, his gaze intense and all-consuming. He reaches up, his hand cupping the back of your neck, pulling you down so that your forehead rests against his. "Let go," he whispers, his voice hoarse with desire. "Let me feel you come. I want to feel every fucking inch of you clench around me."

Sue's hands are on your hips, guiding your movements, helping you find the perfect rhythm. "You're so fucking beautiful," she rasps, her voice filled with awe and desire. 

Reed's cock twitches again, and you can feel the precum leaking from the tip, coating your insides. "Fuck, I'm close," he groans, his body tensing beneath you. "I'm going to fill you up, sweetheart. I'm going to mark you from the inside out."

You can feel the pleasure building, a wave that threatens to consume you. " I can't... I can't hold on," you gasp, your body trembling with the effort of maintaining control.

Reed's hand moves from your neck to your chest, squeezing and kneading your tits like they were god damn stress toys. "Let go, sweetheart," he rasped, his voice filled with encouragement. "Let us take care of you. Let us give you what you need."

Your body tenses, every muscle coiled tight as the pleasure reaches a fever pitch. And then, with a final thrust from both Reed and Sue, you shatter. Your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, crashing over you with such force that you can't do anything but scream. Your vision goes white, and for a moment, you're suspended in a state of pure bliss, your body convulsing as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you. Reed was right. This does feel good.

The world snaps back in fragments. You blink rapidly, your lungs dragging in a shaky breath. Reed’s face swims into focus first, pale with terror, his pupils blown wide. Sue’s hands are on your shoulders, her voice trembling as she keeps saying your name over and over like she’s trying to anchor you back to reality.

“Hey…hey, look at me,” Reed says, his voice breaking. “You’re okay. You’re okay.”

You blink again, disoriented. The ceiling’s familiar, the sheets tangled beneath you, the two of them hovering like ghosts. “What the–what happened?”

Sue exhales sharply, brushing her hair from her face. “You blacked out. Completely. We thought…” Her voice cracks. “We thought we killed you.”

For a second, you just stare. The panic in their eyes is almost surreal, and then something inside you twists. A laugh bursts out before you can stop it.

“Oh my god,” you wheeze, half-laughing, half-crying. “You seriously–” You clutch your stomach, shaking. “You seriously fucked me so hard I blacked out.”

Reed lets out a sound somewhere between a groan and a laugh, dragging a hand down his face. Sue covers her mouth, torn between laughing and crying herself.

“You scared the hell out of us,” Reed mutters, voice thick with leftover adrenaline.

“I scared you?” you say, still breathless with laughter. “I’m the one who woke up to you two hovering over me like guilty murderers.”

Sue leans down, pressing a shaky kiss to your forehead. “You’re unbelievable,” she murmurs, half-scolding, half-relieved.

You reach up, brushing a tear from her cheek, then glance at Reed, whose hand is still trembling against your arm. “Hey,” you whisper, softer now. “I’m okay. Really.”

He nods slowly, exhaling through his nose, and you can see the tension finally leave his shoulders.

A lazy smile spreads across your face as you sink back against the pillow. “Well,” you sigh, “if that’s not a good omen for tomorrow, I don’t know what is.”

Sue blinks. “Tomorrow?”

You grin, eyes fluttering half-shut. “Yeah. I’m so excited to marry you.”

Chapter Text