#I didn't wanna paint them nude

[burfbannd0g]

If you have to yawn, cover your mouth.

[keravnous]

it's a man's world ; jim moriarty/reader (smut, 18+)

part i | playlist:you're moriarty's favourite toy

Jim likes to show off his possessions. Especially, when all the the small flies in his web are present.

word count: 10,1k

warnings: kinda non-con, power play, gun kink, public, degradation, oral (male receiving), facial, grinding on the tip of his shoes/getting yourself off, corruption kink if you blink, name calling ; sebastian moran has a cameo bc I am still mad we didn't get to see hiddleston in that role, irene is also there (besties alert), death, blood, light misogyny if you blink/power imbalance, jim has his whole army of super-criminals around for an annual gathering so beware of the stereotypes , i googled bri-ish roadman slang for this so please forgive me

inspired by that one "hello james" spectre scene

v said moriarty strikes them as the "expressive type", sooo I'll blame this on you bestie

You look down on the thin fabric in your hands. This surely isn't all, there has to be more.

You carefully drop the dress onto your bed and scram through the box and its expensive wrapping paper once more to find it - empty. Nothing, except a matching pair of longsleeved gloves and a thong in the same soft nude colour.

The material is just as sheer as the dress is, a soft rose tone, interwoven by hundreds of small crystals. They sparkle in the dim light of your bedroom.

This is a joke. He's gotta be joking.

You pick up the dress - if one can even call it that - again and give it a closer look. You are very sure that this isn't supposed to be worn on a night out, this is a bedroom-exclusive. It's long and sleeveless, with a deep neckline and a halter-neck, closed with a string of what looks suspiciously like multiple diamonds dangling from it.

You walk over to the closed door, leaning against it. You can hear Mister Moran and his colleague chatting quietly on the other side. Should you ask?

The fabric is light and soft in your hand and you tilt it in the dimly lit room. It sparkles and you can see through nearly completely, your painted nails shining through. You definitely should ask.

"A-are you, uhm, Mister Moran are you there?", you lean your forehead against the cold wooden door, taking one or two deep breaths. The low murmur ebbs, your cat meows and then there's footsteps, followed only a second later by a soft knock on the door. It rings in your ears.

"Are you ready, Miss?"

"Yeah, uh, no. I have a question, I reckon."

Silence. "Alright, Miss."

You swallow.

"A-are you sure, that this is all? All h-he bought, I mean."

There's a slight chuckle. "I was reassured by Mister Moriarty that the package is complete, Miss. So yes, this might as well be it."

"Jesus", you huff.

"Please, do hurry up."

"I am not leaving the house like this", your mouth is quicker than your brain and you can hear Moran freezing behind the door.

"I fear, that will be non-negotiable."

"I will not-"

"Don't keep him waiting."

You burst out a dry laugh, one, that catches in your throat. "I am nearly naked in this."

The other side falls silent. Where there was shuffling and rustling before and someone talking to your cat, is now dead silence.

Moran clears his throat. "I have my orders, Miss. We are already running late."

You shake your head. "Call him, then. I am not-"

"You do not wanna do this", the tone of his voice now has you falling dead silent in a heartbeat, a sudden cold creeping up your spine, "We may offer you a coat. Now, please, do get ready."

You swallow. "Are you certain?", your voice is a lot more silent now, giving away your blooming surrender and anxiety.

"Yes, Miss. I am afraid I am."

You nod and let go of a shaky breath, hand slowly lowering on the door. Its wooden surface is cold beneath your touch.

You know a warning when you hear one.

__

Even though Mister Moran and his colleague (the one talking to your cat), just as the driver, had been very respectful and discreetly kept their gazes away from you, you can still feel your nervosity rising. Jim hadn't told you where you would be meeting him - actually, until roughly an hour ago you didn't know at all that you'd be leaving the house tonight.

You had come home from work and ordered some food from your favourite Indian restaurant, readying yourself for a cosy night in - as the doorbell rang. It hadn't been the delivery service, but three men in black suits, with concealed weapons and a beige, large gift box.

You take a look out of the window as the rainy city passes by. London is pretty when it's dark out, warm lights and people rushing by, as used to the rain as they are to breathing. The driver hammers down on the gas and the engine roars, as the lights switches from red to green.

"Where are we going?", you ask as you pass Hyde Park. Moran sits next to you, the middle seat between the two of you is empty except for your ridiculously small purse. His eyes are fixed on the road ahead, visible between the two front seats. The rain patters on the roof and runs down the thick window panes, while some female singer's sultry voice, most likely from the 50s, fills the warm air. You fumble with the expensive rings on your fingers. Moran had discreetly handed them over to you while you were doing your make-up. They are made of crisp and bright, huge rose diamonds and - you recognize one of them. Monique told you, months ago, that it was sold at Sotheby's for an eight-figure sum, showed you pictures and you joked about who could possibly be rich enough to own such a piece. Now it sits between multiple other diamond rings on your ring finger, gleams in the light.

"Brompton, Miss. We will arrive shortly."

You know the district more from the colourful front pages of the tabloids - spotting their lurid guise when hurrying by newspaper stands on your way to the tub - than seeing it in person. The area is significantly above your pay grade anyways.

"Brompton?", you echo only to then - desperately scrambling for any conversation to not fall into uncomfortable silence once more - add, "Must be difficult to get a table anywhere there, I reckon. How did he managed to get a reservation?"

"Reservation?", he turns his head around and looks at you, eyebrows raised in confusion. O-kay.

"Yes?", you blink at him, once twice, "I- I thought I'd meet him for dinner?"

"No", comes the curt answer.

Oh, that's - well, odd. Jim usually takes you out for dinner and fucks you senseless on the backseat of his Aston Martin. It has become kind of a routine the two of you have fallen into, fucking once or twice a week, making you feel less lonely and taking care of the ache between your legs.

You catch yourself still looking at Mister Moran, not knowing what to say next. So much for keeping up small talk.

"May I remind you, that today is the 15th, Miss", he suddenly says, looking straight ahead, expression pretty much unreadable.

You fall silent for a moment, your eyebrows drawn together in confusion - you have no clue what that's supposed to mean. "Yeah, and -", you startle, "Oh shit. It's not his birthday, or is it?"

Now it's his turn to be silent, visibly confused. You are certain that a minute passes by, before his gaze quickly drops to the passenger seat, where the other man in a black suit sits. His eyes meet Moran's in the rear-view mirror.

"She doesn't know", the man murmurs. It's the first time you hear him speak all night, except the muted words that passed through your closed bedroom door when he was talking to your cat.

"That she doesn't, indeed."

"Where are we going?", you can hear yourself ask again, sounding far away in your own ears, rising anxiety hardening your voice.

Mister Moran looks back at you. For a split second - you won't actually be certain later that you did not in fact imagine it - a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

"Mister Moriarty is hosting a very special party tonight, Miss. It is not his birthday, may I add. It's more like a - well, a gala of sorts."

Oh.

You already open your mouth to ask A gala, why? What for? as the car comes to a halt in front of a massive bronze gate. A hundred years ago or so it would've gleamed golden in the warm hue of the street lights but it has turned into a dirty green-ish since then. The driver rolls down the window and exchanges some hushed words with the porter, who quickly opens the gate. It rolls open lazily, giving way to a long gravelly path. The engine roars and the car rolls forward, as you take in the scenery passing by your window.

Behind the massive stone walls, a neatly trimmed park awaits, with large trees and lush, green grass. The leaves bend under the heavy rainfall and the grass shimmers in the old lamplights lining the path. The park is divided by grey gravel that crunches under the wheels of the armoured vehicle, as it makes its way through the avenue of linden trees and warm lights.

The house - mansion, more like - that comes up on a plaza after a few minutes looks like it may have been built in the 19th century, with its adorned sandstone walls and large balconies. You didn't know such places existed, resting carefully hidden away smack in the city.

"Is this his property?", you breathe out, all anxiety swallowed by awe, as the car takes a turn around the fountain in front of the entrance portal, the engine slowly dying down. Moran hums deeply in his throat and nods. You blink.

You remember the first time you met Jim at the museum. He had something about him, apart from the way he treated you, that screamed power with every movement, every word, every gaze. He looked like money, breathed money. It's still a mystery to you, what his profession is - just as it is a mystery to you, which profession could possibly make someone that wealthy. It's got to be old money but then again, Moriarty wasn't and still isn't a name that rings any bells in that regard.

You come to realize again that you still don't know much about him - you don't know what his job is (something important by the looks of it - government, finances?), you don't know what his favourite food is, you don't know what music he likes to listen to - jesus, you don't even know where he lives.

You take another look out of the window. Now might be your chance. You're grasping at straws but maybe Moran will be of help.

"Does he live here?"

"No, Miss."

You want to know more, Where then - Does he life alone - Am I just an affair - Is he here often, but someone opens the car's door on your side. Cool air sweeps into the vehicle and you are greeted by the friendly face of an elderly man. He wears a livrée and white gloves, reaches out with one hand to help you out of the car. There's another man in a livrée, a little younger, holding a large black umbrella.

"Good evening, Miss - Mister Moran, good to see you, as always", he has a strong Irish accent, "Mister Moriarty is awaiting your presence in the Grande Hall. May I show you the way, Miss?"

You nod, taken aback by the sight that opens up to you as soon as both your feet stand on the gravel. There are at least thirty men - armed men - alongside the massive stair case. They look like they are guarding the place - straightened back, guns at the ready. You don't know much about firearms but you do watch the news so it's not that difficult to spot an assault rifle when you see one.

"Oh, don't be bothered by them", the elderly man smiles and seemingly means it, "They are here for everyone's safety. No need to be nervous, Miss."

Your hands close in around your purse until your knuckles turn white, arms wrapping tightly around your own figure. You don't necessarily feel safer with a few dozen of heavily armed men sporting semi-automatic weapons.

A thought creeps up on you, a little voice whispering in the back of your head, growing louder with every second that you look at the armed security guards. This is not what a private gathering of an investment banker or finance mogul looks like - there's only really one possibility left and you'd really rather not think about it.

"Shall we?", the elderly man turns towards the entrance and you don't really feel like having much of a choice left. Thus, you nod and make your way over the gravel and up the stair case. The gravel crunches wetly underneath the heels of your shoes and Moran follows right behind you, carrying his own umbrella. The armed men lining the staircase don't look at you, fingers resting on the trigger of their guns, suits wetted by the rain. Your head swims a little and you feel your fight or flight kicking in. But there's nowhere to run, with thirty automatic guns surrounding you and Moran right behind you.

"Oh, but where are my manners!", the elderly man suddenly stops and rips you out of your thoughts, his smile tearing the dark clouds apart. He looks genuinely friendly and it calms your nerves the slightest. "My name is Charles, Miss. I am Mister Moriarty's butler - since Dublin, may I add", he sounds proud and you wonder why, since you have no clue what happened in Dublin - but Charles seems to think, that you're familiar with whatever happened back then. Luckily, Mister Moran also seems to be a psychic.

"He has served as Mister Moriarty's butler since he's been a little boy."

"Exactly", Charles nods and beams, "I was once responsible for the whole family. The master was still a child when his parents had this horrible accident."

Something tells you, that it maybe wasn't much of an accident.

"I was responsible for his brother as well, but he moved out early", he starts to climb the stairs again and you hurry to follow, trying not to be hit by the steady downpour of rain.

"It was right after that boy from his swimming class drowned, such a tragedy", the elderly man suppresses an exhausted groan as he reaches the top of the stairs and Moran is quick to pass by and hold open the door. You can't help but notice that they all - the driver, Moran, the colleague, the butler, the small militia - seem to work like a well-oiled machine. They could be blindfolded and still find their place on this large, strange chess board. You enter behind Charles and are greeted by a warmly lit entrance hall. The walls are high and covered by old tapestry, adorned by solid golden panelling. There are low hanging, gigantic chandeliers with sparkling stones and seating groups of Mies van der Rohe's design classics. The low glass tables are full of empty champagne glasses and opened bottles, a few cigars still gleaming.

There's no one here.

"The meeting is already in progress", Charles says - more to Moran than to you, "He will not be pleased that she's late. Not to mention your absence, Sebastian."

"Well, he didn't really give us much time to prepare accordingly, now did he?", Moran smiles and it looks charming but is so so cold that it runs a shiver down your spine. There's something very predatory about him, something you noticed earlier, too. It's in his movement, his voice, his stern gaze - he's like a bloodthirsty animal on a leash. It hits you like a train: the sudden realization that he's one thing and one thing only - dangerous.

"Well, of course", the elderly man bows a little and nods, turn around to you, "May I take your coat, Miss?"

Your hands are shaking, as Charles offers you a hand. You really rather wouldn't. The thick, dark wool was like a shield and you don't feel comfortable taking it away. Your gaze is caught by Moran.

"You're late", he simply says and you actually fear him and thus, you comply.

You take a deep breath, anxiety crawling up your spine as you slowly take the fabric off. Charles is very respectful, keeps his eyes on the ground and so does Moran.

You are certain, that they aren't only doing it for you, for your comfort. They are doing it for themselves as well, frightful and knowing of what would happen if you were to tell Jim, that his men can't keep their gazes to themselves.

"Thank you", you can hear yourself say through the thundering of your heart, power surging through your veins at the thought that somehow, only just a little, they are at your mercy, too. It makes your head spin, the strangeness of the thought mingling with the surge of adrenaline that comes with it.

"You're welcome, Miss", Charles takes your purse, too and you want to protest - Don't take it away, I need to hold onto something - but you don't, inner resistance already beaten to death, spitting blood and crawling on the floor of your brain, "Sebastian, why don't you bring her inside?"

Moran nods - "Over here, please" - and offers you his arm. You carefully place one hand in the crook of his elbow as he walks you over to the massive wooden doors that nearly reach the ceiling. There's this feeling again, that you felt at the museum all those months ago, as your colleagues straightened their backs, checked their clothes. Like it's a familiar automatism you do it now, too - shoulders rolling back, your free hand straightening the dress. The diamonds lightly bounce against your naked back, reminding you of how little of a garment you're actually wearing.

"Don't disappoint him", Moran says before he opens one wing of the massive doors. There's warm, dim light streaming out of the room and you can hear someone speaking. As you enter the room, Moran carefully lets go of your arm.

There are a few dozen people sitting around a huge oval mahogany table, its polished surface shining in the dim lights of the huge, low hanging chandeliers. It's mostly men, just two of them are women. A young man, wrapped in street clothes that probably cost more than your yearly rent, is currently leaning forward on the massive wooden table, box braids falling into his face at the sudden movement. He's the one you heard speaking, thick south-side accent swirling around his sentences.

"-wasteman, y'know like, from my ends, innit? I'll hook'em up wiv you, guv -"

The door behind you falls shut as Moran closes it. Their heads snap up at the sudden sound and around to you.

"Whew, shit", the man next to one who had been speaking - wrapped in expensive street wear as well and in even more expensive jewellery, shimmering in the light - leans forward, "Fuckin' peng ting."

There's someone clearing their throat, the sound echoing from the walls. You know the sound, by heart. The man's head snaps around.

"Shit, sorry Big G, she wiv you?", there's no further reaction coming from Jim and the man raises his hands in a defensive manner, voice breaking a little, "Aight, man, aight. Cool, imma back off, don't be vexed."

You don't know what to do, hands folded uselessly in front of you.

The room is larger than you would've ever imagined and your first guess is, that it had been a ball room once, a couple of hundred years ago. Now, there's only the large, oval table standing right in the middle of the room. The walls are high, with dark wooden panelling that only breaks to give to way to a long gallery, which has balconies reaching into the room. There are, what you guess are at least a few hundred people, standing up there, vanishing in the dark of the gallery. Their gazes burn on your skin.

You look back straight ahead. The table in front of you is a few dozen feet long and at the end, hidden partially by shadows, sits Moriarty. You don't have to see his face to recognize him, feel his gaze on your body.

"That won't be necessary", his voice cuts through the silence and you blink as you realize, that he isn't talking to you, "You" - he lazily points to another man sitting at the far end of the table, right infront of you and you can only see the back of his head - "Wasn't that supposed to be taken care of by your people?"

He's scrambling for words, obviously coming up with an excuse, but you don't bother to listen, gaze flickering over the people sitting at the table. One of the women is still looking at you and you catch her gaze.

She has a stern, cold look in her eyes - the one of a matriarch, with her dark hair pulled back neatly in an impressive updo, lips painted dark red. You can't help being transfixed by her as she slowly tilts her head and - smiles.

You blink. Is she -? She is, expression thawing a little as she looks at you with a mixture of pride and approval. Her gaze and its implication pools around your brain, seeps into it and sets a fresh wave of adrenaline free, that runs straiiight into your legs. She's encouraging you.

Your body takes over your brain as you start to move. The sound of your heels meeting the polished wooden floor echoes from the wall as you make your way over to Moriarty. Step by step you can feel yourself growing more and more confident, arms gracefully resting at your sides as you strut through the room. You can feel a couple of eyes following you and, as you pass the lady with the red lips, she nods.

It has pure, raw power pumping through your veins, erupting in your stomach and spreading between your shoulder blades, has your chin rising up a little. You come to realize, that he's brought you here for a reason and you're ready to meet - no, to exceed - his expectations.

As you come closer you can see what's on the table in front of him. A notepad and an expensive fountain pen, a glass with what looks like hard liquor and -

a gun.

There's a gun on the table, in an arm's reach.

If you'd be a little more familiar with firearms, you'd be able to classify it as a Glock. It is loaded, clip snugly pressed to the base. It's his gun. It's got to be.

You swallow. He has a gun. The next thought makes you go dizzy, knees going a little weak: he most likely knows how to use it, too.

Moriarty doesn't look at you as you approach him, eyes still fixed on the man at the end of the table. The man, who had been stumbling over words and rushed excuses, falls silent as you make your last few steps over to Moriarty.

"Go on", Jim says to him, hand gesturing lazily and he already sounds bored.

You know that a bored Jim, is a dangerous Jim. They all look at him, frightened, tense. There's only one person not transfixed by Moriarty.

It's the lady with the red lipstick. She's still smiling, eyes roaming over your face. And then her lips move, mouthing something, passing on Jim's words to you - go on.

There's this feeling surging through your veins like electricity again - power. And like a puppet on her strings, you straighten your back, leaning down towards Moriarty, one hand resting on his shoulder, arm flat on his back. He's warm beneath your touch, breathing slowly. The gloves on your hands and their little crystals shimmer in the dim light, like a nebula against his dark blue suit, the diamond rings its little planets.

"Honey", you rasp, tongue taking over brain, "I'm here." Your lips dance over his cheek as you speak and his slight stubble prickles on your lips. You press them down, the sound of a soft, short kiss filling the quiet room. His scent wraps you around like a thick cloud and you close your eyes, take it in. It's your favourite cologne of his- warm and rich, vanilla, musk and herbs. It makes your stomach tingle and has raw, utter want pooling in your lower body.

There's a warm hand sneaking up your hips and waist, that rubs along your curves and then forcefully grabbing your figure and pushing you back. A small surprised noise escapes your throat and then he's looking at you - finally.

Moriarty's eyes roam over your body, thumb caressing your ribs, right below your breast. He hums deep in his throat and then presses his thumb against your left tit, lets it bounce a little. The material of the dress rubs over your slightly hardened nipples and the sensation pulls at your strings, sends shivers down down down your spine to your loins. Jim hums once more and your blood sings with it: sings with the unspoken praise, with his unspoken approval.

You hold his gaze, cheeks growing a little warm with his attention, as he suddenly speaks up.

"You, I said go on", Jim snaps the fingers of his free hand in the direction of the man on the other side of the table. His other hand is roaming over your tit, coming to a rest on your shoulder and then presses down.

"Kneel", his voice is deep and you blink, transfixed by his gaze. He looks cold, colder than usual, his face hardened and unmoving, gaze distanced and demanding. You swallow, ears ringing.

"Kneel", he says again, a lot more forceful this time and you obey, slowly but surely - like your body isn't yours anymore - sinking down on your knees right beside him, facing his side. The diamonds dangling at your back clink as they are being thrown against each other by the sudden movement.

Jim's eyes hold your gaze on the whole way down and for a short moment, they gleam. Boredom torn at the edges with excitement.

His hand crawls up your cheek, warm but it makes goosebumps spread across your body like his touch is freezing cold, patting you a little. And then he smiles, before looking away and at the stranger, again.

Your heart is racing as you follow his gaze and notice that they all stare at you. Not just them, the people on the gallery as well. The lady with the red lips still smiles, lowering her head a little in approval.

"I told you to go on, didn't I?", Jim sounds cold and one of your hands, obediently resting in your lap, darts out, stretches itself out on his left thigh.

His gaze momentarily drops down and to your hand, adorned by crystals and diamonds and then towards you. The look in Moriarty's eyes and the fact that he doesn't swat your hand away makes your stomach flutter. He looks away again and you take the chance, let your eyes roam over the sharp profile of his face, across his cheeks as they take in his slight stubble, dark lashes and the one loose strand of hair that falls into his face.

"I-", the man clears his throat, "We are certain that within the next month - that there will be a solution to the issue, w-within in the next month."

Jim leans back in his chair, spreading his legs a little. He's silent for a long moment.

"The next month?"

"Yes, Sir."

"And d'you think, that will do?"

Silence. And then: "N-no, Sir."

"Good. Then why exactly aren't you doing something about it?"

"There's nothing I could-"

Moriarty's expression shuts him up. He falls silent and so does the room.

"This keeps happening", Jim sighs dramatically and then lets his gaze roam over the gallery, where a hundred or so men and women stand, looking down at him in obedience, "Look at them. They would kill to sit where you are. And yet, you disappoint me."

Moriarty tilts his head and looks at the man on the other side of the table.

"I think, I'll do them a favour", he sing-songs and then suddenly, with a speed you didn't expect, grabs his gun. It clicks and then the gunshot rips through the silence, bullet tearing through the man's forehead with military precision.

You jump at the sound and can barely contain a sharp scream escaping your lips, starring down the hall at the now dead body.

The man slumps in his chair and then sacks forward, his upper body falling onto the table with a loud thud.

No one flinches at the sound. You're the only one.

He killed a man.

Shot him.

In cold blood.

Didn't even think about it.

You want to scream, to run, to -

There's a little noise on the gallery. "Come down", Jim sighs, "And do better. I hate wasting bullets." There's a slight rustle upstairs, like they're fighting, but you can't really hear anything else over your heartbeat thundering in your ears.

You want to throw up. Your hands start to shake, palms growing wet with cold sweat.

"Oh poppet, are you afraid?", he sing-songs, pouts at you playfully, "Don't be" - there's someone screaming upstairs, right after what sounded like a knife being drawn - "Daddy would never hurt you", Jim's hand darts out, fingers spreading over your scalp and slowly caressing your hair and the skin beneath, rubbing his hand in a soothing, circular motion. It messes up your hair but it feels - good.

"Are you quite done up there?", he raises his voice - bored bored bored -, "I've got better things to do."

His hand drops to you neck, rubs over it, thumb carefully pressing against the nape of it. It does calm you down, surprisingly so.

You turn into puddy under his soft touch, head spinning and breath slowing down, the thundering of your heart turning into a slow rumble.

"Good girl", he whispers, "I'd never hurt you."

And with the way his voice rings in your head, like it's slooowly starting to creep its way into the curves and alleyways of your brain, you start to believe him.

You hum - safe with him safe with him safe with him - and lean into his touch. The sound of a pair of sharp footsteps echoes from the tall walls and as you look up, a man hoists the slumped body up - blood drips down the dead man's forehead and it squeaks as he lifts him from the red puddle on the dark mahogany - like he weighs nothing, throws him out of the chair and onto the ground. The body falls to the floor like a heavy pillow. This time you don't flinch.

"Here I am, Sir", he has a French accent.

"I can see that", Jim sighs and the gun clicks again as a bullet snaps into the barrel. The gun dangles from his hand as he gestures with it.

He doesn't need to say more, the French man understanding immediately what is asked of him. "I can assure you, that we have the most secure routes from Mexico to Marseille. That means roughly - uh, how do you say - cent-soixante tonnes de poids a month."

"160 tons a month, Sir", the other woman says and you can hear papers rustling, "We had 70 tons coming in over Felixstowe last month."

"Any contesters to that?", Moriarty sing-songs and looks around the room, slowly lets his gaze wander over the balconies. There's only silence.

He seems content. "Sit", he gestures with his gun and you hear the screeching of a chair on the other end of the room, "Looks like we won't need this anymore." You watch the stranger sitting down, a servant rushing over to clean the table. The cloth quickly soaks up the blood, white linen replaced by red red red. "Merci", the man says and the servant bows, before hastily returning to the shadows of the room.

Moriarty's head turns towards you, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Would you mind to open up f'me, sweetheart?"

You look at him, blinking - once, twice. Your eyes dart over to the gun he's still holding. You know what he wants. His gaze bores into you.

Your head's a little dizzy, like your brain is wrapped in hot cotton candy that slowly but steadily seeps into every single remaining pore of your body. Your stomach flutters a little at the thought, the implied danger has your breath hitching in your throat.

You know what he wants. And - as you come to realize - you start to want it, too.

And thus, you nod - "As you wish, Sir" - and part your lips, tongue darting out willingly, as he smiles and pushes the barrel of the gun into your mouth - safety still off, his finger on the trigger. The metal is still warm by the fired shot and heavy on your tongue, the taste of it spreading in your mouth.

Moriarty presses it in deep, the movement forcing you to lay your head back, until you can feel it hit your palate and you suck in a sharp breath through your nose. It gets you hot all over and you know, you should be afraid since he just bloody shot someone but you can't bring yourself to care. Your blood sings with being at his mercy, with the way he looks down and at you - all glory and gore, a king with no crown.

They all stare at you, but you only have eyes for Jim - looking up at him through your lashes, gun resting between your lips.

He hums deep in his throat, clicks his tongue. "Mhm", he rasps, "Atta girl."

You beam. "Keep it warm f'me, yes?", Jim tilts his head a little and you nod as best as you can.

His left arm rests calmly on the arm of the chair, slightly bend with the gun resting in your mouth, trigger pressed against your chin. Your heart races in your chest, gaze set on him, who orders the next henchman to report on his business.

There's something about him, how leisurely he lounges in his chair, how casually he handled that gun, how he shoved it into your mouth that makes your loins grow hot. Jesus, you're fucked.

"Edith."

"Yes, Sir", it's the woman again, "Next on the agenda is the usage of the Aquarius Software since we took over the NEA company last march. Since then, we've gained access to at least ten different governments, their respective leaders and a handful of influential politicians - just in the past two months. But maybe we should hear Mister Sharev about this, if you wouldn't mind, Sir?"

"No, no. Go ahead", Moriarty's hand tilts the gun and shoves it even deeper in your mouth and you gag around the barrel, saliva gathering around it and dripping down your chin. Your eyelids flutter and you relax your chin, taking a few deep breaths through your nose. Your hand, still covered by the thin glove, slightly presses into his thigh, desperate for leverage.

It's like someone put a spell on you, with the way you look at him, watching how he tilts his head as the CEO starts to announce his company's goals and aims to furthermore undermine the world's leading governments. His thigh is still warm beneath your touch and you can feel his muscles clench a little beneath the thick, expensive fabric of his slacks. Odd. Your gaze drops down to your hand and - he's hard. His dick is hard, pressing against the dark blue of his pants.

You wish you could move your head, just to look at it . The palm of your hand starts to tingle, as a familiar pulling sensation pools in your lower stomach and travels further down, right between your legs.

Long forgotten is the dead man lying on the floor and bleeding out, shot with the gun you got between your lips - all you can think about is feeling him. Jim's leg is unbearably hot beneath your fingers and you experimentally let them wander up his thigh a little.

Jim doesn't react and thus, you feel tempted to try further, fingers dancing over his thigh where the flesh grows warmer, on its way up to his crotch. Your fingers dart out and you find what they seek, digits dancing over his hard dick, pressing firmly against the dark blue fabric and straining it. You wish you could really look at it.

Your eyes flash up to Moriarty's face and you can see him grin and it sets a wave free, hot shivers running from your scalp down down down over your back to your loins until they're ignited in your crotch and erupt in wetness between your legs.

Your fingers close around the bulge, his cock hot and thick and long, pulsating underneath your hand and your eyelids flutter. You can feel saliva gathering on your tongue as you come to realize that you miss its taste. The gun still presses against your tongue and your brain surrenders itself to the wetness pooling between your legs and the steadily growing want crawling in your stomach, clawing at your skin. It's better than nothing and your brain willingly conjurs up the illusion.

Your tongue rubs alongside the rough surface of the gun's barrel, metallic taste slowly being replaced by your brain with Jim's usual musky and salty taste. You whine, thighs clenching a little, as you suck the barrel deeper into your mouth. Your tongue finds the muzzle and rubs over it, imagines it to be smaller and warmer, giving away first drops of cum, not thin air.

The man is still talking but you can't be bothered to listen to him. The thought of Jim's dick makes you wet, aching for him to just touch you, fingers running over his clothed dick, thumb rubbing over its bottom. You can feel it twitch beneath the expensive fabric.

Your head starts to move, back and forth on the gun barrel like it's Moriarty cock and you feel him up as you do, hand closing in again, massaging him through his pants until -

"Shut up for a second", and Sharev does, clasps his hands in front of him, "Someone's down here has been a bad bad girl." He turn his head around and pouts at you playfully and leaning in closer.

"You want the real thing, don'tcha?", he murmurs and slooowly pulls the gun out of your mouth. There's a string of saliva connecting it to your lower lip that eventually riiips and dribbles down your chin. His dick is hot and pulses against your palm, underneath your thin gloves. Your jaw already hurts a little, a bit sore with keeping your mouth open but you nod, a small whine escaping your throat. There's nothing else left on your mind but his dick, feeling him, tasting him, making him feel good and being rewarded with bitter-sweet praise.

"Look at you, little dumb whore - can't even listen to the grown-ups talking for half an hour."

His thumb strokes over your swollen lip, corner of his mouth tilting up a little, while it wanders up up up, over your cheek and into your hair where he grabs a fistful of it and pulls. It stings, as he roughly manoeuvres you in front of him and you scramble on your knees, hands darting over his legs and the chair for any sort of leverage.

"Off you go then, sweetheart", he hums as you're finally kneeling in front of him.

It feels like someone pulled the plug to your brain as you dash forward - ready to please please please. There are a few hundred pairs of eyes set on you - on your body, visible and exposed in the sparkling dress, eyes hungry and hair a mess - but you don't care, can't bring yourself to. What are they going to do? Tell someone? He'll have them executed. The certainty of the thought makes your blood sing, your thoughts swim and you look up at him.

Moriarty's expression is unreadable, masked by his usual coldness, corners of his mouth tilted like he's bored.

Don't be boring don't be boring don't be boring his sing-song echoes in your skull and as your hands make haste with the fly of his slacks you come to realize: you turned into his private version of a pavlovian dog. Drooling, panting, desperate for attention and praise.

You don't even flinch as the damp barrel of the gun suddenly presses down - riiight onto the middle of your forehead. He could blast your lights out right now, execute you on the spot. It should terrify you, grab you by the throat and pull you out of that fucking trance he's lured you into but it just - doesn't.

Instead, you moan.

The sound echoes off of the walls and Jim chuckles, low and deep in his throat.

"Oh, ain't you just pretty", he grins and it gets you going, spurs you on and makes your cheeks turn red as your blood sings with the only thought your mind's able to conjure up - worship him worship him worship him.

One of your hands, still wrapped in the expensive gloves, darts out and takes his hard dick out of his pants, his boxers. It's hot and heavy in your palm, tip glistening with precum.

A thought creeps up on you. He let's you do this, he let's you suck his cock in public, puts on you in the spotlight. He could've picked someone else; you're convinced he could've - but he didn't.

He chose you.

Your eyelids flutter as you become aware once more of all the eyes boring into your back and it turns you on, knowing that he's showing you off, publicly marking you as his.

Moriarty hisses as the soft material of your gloves starts to stroke him, lips curling up in a smile, all teeth and gleaming eyes. He's looking down at you, brown eyes so so dark and you feel like falling into the void, barrel of the gun pressing down harder on your forehead.

Oddly enough, you trust him.

"Atta girl, suck Daddy's cock real good", he sing-songs, mischievous grin tugging at his lips and you obey to him, saliva pooling around your tongue as you lean in, licking a fat stripe from the base of his dick to the top.

"Sooo", he nearly sighs as he watches you taking the tip of his dick into your mouth, before he looks back up at Mister Sharev, "My secretary was so nice to inform me about the status of the current project. All still in order?"

"Yes, Sir. We are currently-", you can't bring yourself to listen, with the taste of his dick fogging up your mind in rapid speed. You swirl your tongue around its tip, lips wrapping around the warm flesh before they wander lower, peppering his dick with wet, open-mouthed kisses, tongue darting out and licking along the thick vein on the bottom.

The gun at your head shifts, leaves your forehead and presses against the side of your skull instead, has you groaning against Jim's cock. The present danger has your blood singing and the desire to please - be good, be good, be good - blooming in your chest, as pleasure shoots riiight between your legs.

Your lips move further down, hand darting out and pulling his boxers lower which has him chuckling deep in his chest, a low rumble that barely reaches you through the haze. The barrel of the gun presses down more firmly, has dull pain shooting through your skull and Moriarty spreads his legs a little further, giving you more space. He's enjoying this and it makes your head swim, heart missing a beat or two, spurring you on. Your tongue follows the newly revealed trail, dancing over his balls, before you wrap your lips around them, sucking on them. His neatly trimmed pubic hair prickles on your cheek and you moan quietly, as his scent wraps around you, a musky, salty taste filling your mouth pulling you down down down into his lair.

One of your hands holds Moriarty's dick, thumb gently rubbing slow circles over its tip, precum wetting the soft, sheer material of the glove. You suck one of his balls into your mouth, heavy and warm on your tongue, hand stroking his cock. He's still talking, voice steady and cold like you aren't kneeling between his legs, sucking him off and it makes you hot all over. You lick a fat stripe over his balls, growing wetter at the sudden twitch of his dick, the way the thick vein pulses against your palm. Your lips wander back up, tongue spreading your saliva on his hard dick as you realize that you need more.

The thought has you whining, gloved hand giving Jim's dick one last stroke before you dive in, tongue resting on your lower lip, welcoming his cock home. You take him in deep, lips wrapping around him, saliva pooling on your tongue. You move your head around him, moaning against his cock as you suck him off, feeling his vein pulsing and dick twitching on your tongue. Suddenly, like you're momentarily snapping out of it, his voice reaches your ears.

"And 221B?"

"We're at it, Sir. The doctor's security system is rather underwhelming, even for government standards." You have no bloody clue of where or what 221B is, even though it rings a tiny little bell waaay back in your mind, but gets Jim fucking going.

"Good", his voice is deep and coarse and his dick hits the back of your throat as he rolls his hips once, twice, has you sputtering around his cock.

"Hold still or I'll shoot you", Moriarty says plainly, barrel of the gun painfully pressing against the side of your skull, as his slim fingers press onto your neck, holding you in place. Your nose is buried deep in his trimmed pubic hair and his musky scent wraps around you, as you try to breathe through your nose. His cock hits the back of your throat once more and you gag, tears filling your eyes at the sudden lack of oxygen.

You try your best to relax your jaw but he doesn't give you a break, rolls his hips, ruthlessly fucks into your mouth. You can feel saliva pooling at the corners of your mouth, obscene and wet squelching sounds filling the air as he pushes himself deeper faster and faster. Your hands press into Jim's thigh in a desperate attempt to hold onto anything, fingers digging deep into the muscular flesh beneath the dark blue, until their knuckles turn white. It has his hips bucking and a growl rumbling in his chest, his throat. It momentarily takes your breath away and one of your feet kicks a little, as your slowly but surely are running more and more out of breath - dress rustling and diamonds on your back clinking. The rising anxiety of hypoxia, mixing together with his scent and the feeling of his dick fucking your mouth raw, using you has you spiralling deeper and deeper into cloudy subspace, hazy lust taking over your brain. It has your body going a little limp, your throat relaxing and wet pussy clenching around nothing.

Be good be good be good - and you are, fingers relaxing and instead of clawing into them, now moving along Moriarty's thighs and up up up, over his lower abdomen. You know you're making a mess of his shirt but you also know that he likes it, likes your hands roaming over his body whenever you suck his dick or ride him. He likes it when you worship him. And thus, you feel him up, feeling his muscular stomach contracting with each thrust into your throat.

The hand on your neck fists into your hair, pulling you away from him.

You're panting, chin wet with your spit dripping down your chin, lipstick smeared as you look up at him with teary eyes, mascara blotchy around the edges. His cheeks have the faintest of a flush of redness and there's a little sweat on his forehead as he presses the gun against your temple.

Moriarty gives himself one, two firm strokes and your eyelids flutter as thick, hot ropes of white hit your face, a few drops going into your eye. He groans as he comes on your face, intense gaze boring into your eyes, tip of his dick resting a few inches away from your eye. Small tears run down your right cheek as you blink the cum away. They mingle with it and run down your soft skin, dripping down on the dress.

"Ain't you m'pretty little slut?", he asks, gives your clean cheek a little slap and you nod, while he takes his flattening dick in the other hand and rubs it along your cheek, smears his cum across your face and lips. "What d'you say, hm?"

"Thank you, Sir", you croon, hands roaming over his knees and thighs, looking up at Jim, beaming with his praise. You're still wet, pussy aching and pulsing between your legs.

"Be a good girl and put it away", your hands move to his pants, carefully pulling his boxers up, straightening his shirt and closing the fly of his pants, while he shoves one foot between your knees instead, gun still pressing against your skull, "C'mon, take what y'need."

The tip of his shoe is pressing against your wet thong, material coolly pressing against your hot skin, right beneath your clit. You don't have to think twice, brain lost to the hazy fog of pleasure and you roll your hips back a little. The hard, polished leather rubs over your clit and you gasp, hips stuttering a little. One of your hands darts out, grabbing his knee. The pain of the hard surface, mixed together with your absolute need for stimulation has your abdomen clenching.

You bite your lip as you experimentally roll your hips forward, clit brushing over the leather and you can fell your pleasure crawling up up up, spreading in your chest, making your skin tingle with want. It's not enough, the lack of touch and the way you just need more and thus, your free hand wanders up your thigh, cold rings tingling your skin through the thin fabric as you run them up your leg and higher higher higher, over your stomach up to your tits. You grab one of them and feel yourself up, kneading it while you grind down on Moriarty's shoe. You eyelids flutter and you pant with the way it feels, hard and cold and degrading, but also so so good, has fresh wetness pooling between your thighs. Your pussy's swollen and hot and aching, sensitive the the smallest touch and the sudden stimulation has you moaning, breath speeding up.

Jim tilts his head a little, looking down at you. He seems amused, one hand lazily dangling from his armrest, as he watches you getting yourself off on his expensive leather shoes.

"Such a pretty show for our guests, hm?", he chuckles at the sight and you blush, redness and warmth spreading on your cheeks and your chest at the thought that they all still watch you but you can't bring yourself to care. You just don't, with pleasure spiking high and Jim - his words, his demeanour, the gun - fogging up your brain.

It's an intoxicating combination that has your pick up a faster rhythm, grinding down faster on the leather. At first, it stings a little but has pleasure rolling over your body nonetheless and you gasp, as lust floods your system once more.

You throw your head back in pleasure, missing the table by mere inches, a high pitched and needy whine escaping your lips as you rut down onto his dressing shoe.

The gun vanishes from your skull, only to press against the bottom of your chin a second later, keeping your head laid back. Your eyes roll up up up and your hands dart out, fingers spread wide on the polished floorboards behind you, as their tips hold your bodyweight. Your back's delightfully stretched and your upper body is on full display to him, chest heaving with every breath you suck in as you roll your hips on his shoes, hard nipples pressing against the sheer gown.

His other foot rises up and presses down onto your chest with quite some weight, has you deepen the stretch and a high pitched whine erupting from your throat, born out of lust and pleasure and the slight pain that ignites your back. It's delicious and shoots down down down right between your legs, has fresh wetness pooling in your thong, dripping down onto the black leather of his shoe. You know exactly what you look like: draped in an expensive dress and millions worth of diamonds like a billionaire's wife, but rutting against him like a cheap whore, a bitch in heat instead. You know it gets him going as much as it has you squirming, squirting on his shoes. The gun's still pointing at you and if he were to shoot you now - bored, bored, bored - he'd paint the floorboards and the table red.

Your hips stutter as you wet the expensive material at the thought - at the utter power Moriarty has over you - has fresh wetness running down the leather and your thighs as well, and you gasp, eyes falling shut. You keep grinding on his shoe, high pitched moans falling from your lips every time your clit brushes over its surface. He adds more pressure to the foot resting on your chest and you gasp, pain and slight asphyxiation making you dizzy, speeding up the rhythm of your hips. It's not enough, you need to feel him inside of you but it's also way too much, with the endings of your nerves on fire and

You can feel your thighs and abdomen contracting and your hole clenching around nothing and-

"P-please", you whimper.

Moriarty's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "Oh, did I teach you that well, poppet?", his accent swirls around his tongue and it has you nearly going wild, "Of course you may come."

And you do, body reacting to him like he just has to press a single button, release washing over you as your orgasm rips another loud moan out of you, followed by heavy gasping as your pussy releases more fluid, which drips down his shoe and onto the wooden floor. Your hips buck and you moan, chest heaving with the sudden breaths you're sucking in, pressing against the shoe that's still resting on your chest.

"'S good, very good", Moriarty sounds satisfied and you can feel his foot lifting from your chest, giving your ribcage free. Your legs shake from your orgasm as you desperately suck in a few deep breaths, sacking forward. You feel the need to rest with the ache of your muscles but there's also something else. It's like your blood sings with it, like it lays on your body thick and heavily and sinks down on your brain like a blanket: you need him.

You crawl towards Jim and sink between his spread legs, left cheek falling lazily onto one thigh, right hand spreading out on the other. Your other arm softly wraps itself around his lower leg as you press yourself against him. You can feel his cum on your face, your own juices between your thighs. Your eyelids flutter, chest still heaving from ragged breaths and post orgasmic bliss, as you feel his warmth radiating beneath your skin once more.

"Obedient, little whore", he hums and you can hear his gun clicking quietly, as he takes it away, leaves it dangling lazily in his hand over the armrest. You're exhausted, your whole body hurts while your limbs are growing heavy and thus, you sink against him like ragdoll.

The silence in the room is deafening now that you're coming down from your high but it won't stop your blood from singing with Jim's praise and the utter power that seeps through every single pore of your body. Only you can make him come, only you can please him like that - only you only you.

It is much later, after they all left, when Jim bends down to you, tilts your head up and presses his lips onto yours - soft and warm and for a long, lingering moment - his hand gently stroking your cheek and his fingers brushing through his own, sticky cum, spreading it across your cheek. It's the first time he kisses you, in all the weeks you've known him. You know that you've earned it. His eyes are dark dark dark, swirls of green barely visible as he looks at you, visible affection flickering through his gaze.

"You are mine", he rasps against your lips and you nod nod nod, his stubble gently poking your soft skin, "I own you."

And, much to your own disbelief about your lack of mental resistance, you realize: he does.

__

"So, how was your weekend?", Monique and you are rushing through the city, hot take-away cups warming your hands. It stopped pissing Sunday evening and London decided it was time to start with the freezing temperatures. It's your lunch break and the two of you went out for coffee, now hurrying back to the museum's office floors.

You open your mouth, but the words get stuck in your throat. You have no idea how to answer that without landing at Scotland Yard for questioning within half an hour.

She looks at you. "You saw him again, didn't you?", she looks so enthusiastic. You'd hate to break the news to her - Yeah uhm, about that, well, he's criminal and he's using the museum to launder some money, charming, innit? - that's absolutely off the table.

Oh, and don't forget the classic: Yeah, and he shot someone, mind you.

But there's also no hiding from her and thus -

"I did", you can't fight your lips tilting up, remembering the way he manhandled you, shoved his dick into your mouth and showed you off.

Monique, of course, has (for 48 hours at this point) lived in a different world than you. Of course, her trees are still as green as yours and she reads the same newspapers as you do, but she hasn't witnessed a secret organisation discussing organized crime, nor has someone been killed in front of her eyes, wasting away in a puddle of his own blood - and thus, she squeaks with joy. Some snobby banker rushing by turns around in surprise at the sudden sound and curls his lip. You throw him a look. You might be seeing things differently than you did just last Friday night but you still know a wanker when you see one. You can't fight the thought of I know someone who can shut you up for good, boy creeping up on you. You must wear the thought on your face, because he hurries to get going. You take another sip from your coffee. You feel oddly good.

"How was it? Did he take you out?"

You sputter, pressing a hand onto your mouth, trying not to spill any of the hot coffee. "Oh jesus, oh Monique", you cough, half laughing-half fighting for air. It shouldn't be funny, it really shouldn't. You're a little tempted to hit her back with an: Oh, not me.

But you don't, because you're - again - not really keen on paying Scotland Yard a visit. So, you just put on your most innocent smile, trying real hard to imagine a peaceful, normal dinner to successfully sell her the story.

"He did, it was very", you can feel your cheeks reddening suddenly as his voice starts to echo in your skull -

I own you I own you I own you

- ,"Romantic."

[hrts4wonu]

minghaos who takes his time when drawing any portrait of you, making sure to get every detail of your beauty

a/n: oh my god jasmine??? i just started reading your fanfics last night and let me tell you, i was so damn obsessed; i'm not sure if this is a hard thought or anything but i did try to make it smut (with a little bit of fluff and comfort)

wc: 1.7k

-

today was like any other day. well, not technically. today was your boyfriend's project's due date. he was supposed to draw a portrait of the person that means a lot to him; though he first thought of his very own mother, he remembered the first few words you said when you met him.

(flashback)

those few sweet words that came out of your mouth like it was nothing; "i love your artstyle, maybe you should draw your future girlfriend, yeah?" you chuckle as he turned to look at you. "pardon?" he says, a little confused.

"i'm talking about me, hao." he laughs at your straightforwardness and displays a warm smile at you while he remains seated.

you laugh along comfortably, sitting next to him while staring at the canvas that was filled with colorful strokes of red, orange, yellow, blue and pink. "you assume too much, don't y'think?" he teased as he cups your cheeks, tucking your hair behind your ear. "well, you never know, do you?" both of you chuckle together before he picks up his paintbrush and finishes his artwork.

(end of flashback)

that was long ago, yet, the memory itself never fails to melt his heart. though, he couldn't deny; he has drew you before. a couple of times actually.

the problem was, all of them just seemed bad to him. he doodled and sketched your face everyday in class; thinking that everytime he drew you with a different pen or pencil, his sketches get more terrible each day. (and yet he still managed to get good grades even though he doesn't pay attention in class because he's always drawing you)

and so, he never showed you, until you found his sketchbook in his room on your 5th monthsary. he was pretty embarrassed about it, but your praises on his drawings were enough to boost his ego and confidence.

while he quietly sits down on his chair, staring into his computer, he slowly turns to look at you with a nervous smile on his face.

"darling," he starts off, standing up and approaching you on the bed. you hum in response, dropping your phone and looking back at him. "do you want to become my reference? it's for an art project."

you nod, changing your position on the bed. "what do you need me to wear? a dress, or--"

"need you nude, baby." the temptation from his voice was enough to electrify something inside of you; feeling a bit flustered from what he said. "..if you're comfortable with it, of course. i wouldn't want to make myself look like i'm into creepy things like this, yeah?" he adds. "if you really don't wanna, it's fi--"

"mm." you shook your head no. "it's fine," though it seemed aberrant to minghao (because of how much of a gentleman he is), the longing ache in you was basically killing you.

a few minutes later, you slowly got out of the bathroom with a robe on. you were nervous of him judging you, the way your body was built, your skin tone, or maybe that was just your neediness that's getting to you.

he puts on a smile and gives you a warm hug, "take it off when you're ready, hm?" minghao whispers in your ear, leaving a small kiss.

you nod, "yeah."

minghao slowly lets go and stands behind his canvas; squeezing out all the paint onto his palette. he quickly grabs his paintbrush and starts speaking up once more, "hey," he sat down on the tiny chair. "there's still time to back out if you're really not into thi--"

"minghao? is there something wrong?" you throw your robe to the side, crossing your arms which squished your tits from below a bit.

he shook his head, "no, not at all." he looks away and focuses back on his canvas.

minghao couldn't help but stare at you for a bit longer, he didn't know what to say or do at all. it's not like there is a problem- it's that you're there, with no clothes on, and you're on full display.

but besides that, you're gorgeous.

absolutely admirable and so, so, so, so, so beautiful. to him and only him. maybe even to the whole world.

countless hours pass by and minghao was finally done with his work, "baby?" he stands up and dusts his hands off.

"did you fall aslee- oh." you quietly let out muffled moans as you try fingering yourself on the sofa; if only you could see the greed and devotion in his eyes while he painted your figure, he would've dropped his paintbrushes to the floor and take care of you already.

the sweet smile on his face disappears and instead turns into a wicked yet sinister smirk.

minghao cups your cheeks. "let me help you baby, yeah?" he coos, crouching down to give you a soft kiss on the lips before falling onto his knees.

"p-please.." you beg, withdrawing your hand from your pussy but before you could wipe it on the couch, minghao grabs it and slides it in his mouth, licking your small digits that were unlike his long, veiny hands. "hao.." you whine at the sight.

"what is it, pretty girl?" he places his hands on both of your thighs, spreading them apart. "need me?"

you nod. "i've been longing, hao."

he starts kissing your inner thighs; wet lips enough to get you even wetter than you were 10 seconds ago. though your legs were now resting on his shoulder, he still had a firm grasp on them. his nails dug onto your skin, leaving temporary crescent-shaped nail marks onto them.

"so have i, darling." he replies, leaning in towards your pussy, his nose bumping with your clit.

you whine when you feel the pleasure; it's overwhelming, yes, but it feels so good that you can't even utter a single word. not even a single one, the only thing you can let out is a moan.

he licks your pussy's lips and starts eating you out, the sweet taste not leaving his tongue. "f..fuck, hao,"

"mind your language or i'm gonna leave you aching on this sofa, y/n." he threatens and you slightly look away in embarrassment when you saw his bloodthirsty eyes darken in lust. "you wouldn't want that, would you?" he leans back, away from you as the wind's cold breeze comes in contact with your skin.

you shook your head no gently, replying to his question. "well, it's not like you could ever leave me hanging like that, hao." you tease.

he scoffs; "there's always a first time for everything, sweetheart. you should know that." he stood up and quickly switches your position in missionary, pinning you down on the sofa and pressing your legs against your chest and his.

"but, hey." you look at him in confusion as he unzips his pants and pulls his cock out. it was long and veiny, t'was so outstanding and beautiful. something so out of this world. "contrary to what mingyu said before," he breathes, fixing his position on top of you as he leans close enough to your ear. "most of the greatest works of art don't know how great they are not because they're unreal, instead, it's because they don't see the talent in the artist's eyes that were enough to make the painting as appealing as it already is." his hot breath against your ear makes you tremble, "you're just like an artwork, you know?" he teases.

"really?" he nods. "you think so?" your cute puppy eyes, begging and pleading for his angry, red tip was enough to send him to the edge but as punishment, he will make you wait longer.

after a few more minutes of teasing, he finally gives in and thrusts inside of you.

you moan loudly, holding onto his body, yet it seemed so unfair because you were basically naked and he still had his shirt on. "mm.." he looks at you, stopping his thrusting as he felt a little confused.

"what is it, hm?" you slowly tug at his shirt and he finally gets it. "ah, i see." he smirks and takes his shirt off.

he goes back to thrusting inside of you and you let out another moan, "m-mmh!"; he grunts as he thrusts even harder, not stopping for even a breath.

you squirm, putting your hand over your mouth to keep your mouth shut yet you can't help yourself but moan even louder. he notices this and he stops for a moment, leaving you hanging which made you ache for more (though it's not like he could pull out because your pussy was basically sucking him back in), grabbing your hand pinning them over your head as he fucks into you.

"h..hao!" you moan loudly as you felt him hitting that 'sweet spot' inside of you. "hao.." you breathe, starting to pant as your legs start trembling. "i-.. i'm so close.." you whine continuously as his hand lets go of your wrists, traveling down to your nipples.

he rubs them gently, leaning in and licking them clean. minghao does the same for the other breast making you moan and yearn for more;

"i..i'm gonna cum, please.." you beg.

"please what, baby?" he smirks, pulling his lips away from your lips and staring into your doe eyes. "tell me," he starts. "tell me what you need, i'll give you everything. every single thing just for you, my lovely, pretty girl."

you look at him with desire and thirst. "need to cum, please.."

everything was testing him; no, no, no.. that's not the right word, is it? let's try that again-- everything was arousing him. it felt like you were tormenting eachother using their own bodies. everything was so tempting to him, he couldn't help but give in; "cum for me, princess," he says with a smirk on his face. "do it, make me proud, okay?"

it wasn't that long until you reach your climax and you came on his cock. he helps you ride your orgasm until he reaches his, planting his seed inside of you.

the both of you catch your breathes together before he pulls out of you and places a warm, loving kiss on your temple; "come on, let's clean you up, hm?" despite being exhausted, you shot him a smile and he stood up, carrying you to the bathroom to clean you up. "mhm.." you manage to say, still trying to catch your breath from what had just happened.

"hao, i love you." you say, with a smile on your face as you return his kiss back, instead, this time it was on his lips. "i love you too, baby."

a/n 2: sorry this took so long,, i had work and i was slightly busy.. but anyways, i'm FINALLY done! it didn't turn out how i expected it to be yet i still think it's a little better than what i usually write. besides that, i'm really, really glad to make a minghao fanfic so please ask / request for more <3

[vodika-vibes]

No Dogma? 🥺

Uhmmm let me try let me try...

How about... School AU! During your art class he has some difficulties because the exercise tests your creativity and he feels too uncomfortable without having strict rules. But his charming deskmate will help him to relax, right?

Inspiration

Summary: When your boyfriend, Dogma, has a hard time with an art project you offer him some inspiration.

Pairing: Clone Trooper Dogma x F!Reader

Word Count: 1515

Warnings: Smut, cockwarming

Prompt: College AU

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: So, you didn't explicitly ask for smut, but you also didn't say that you didn't want smut, so this is what I decided to write. I hope you like it!

“Why are you glaring at the assignment, Dogma?” You ask as you lean over to the table to get a better look at your friend’s face.

He glances at you, a slightly wry smile crossing his face, “I’m not so good at using my imagination. And I’m not creative.”

“That’s not true.” You defend, “I mean, just look at your tattoo. That’s creative.”

“It’s not quite the same thing, though.” Dogma sighs and drops the paper to focus his attention on you, “What’s your project going to be?”

“Mm…I haven’t decided yet. Maybe I’ll go to the park and press some flowers and design my project around them.” You shrug, “I’ll figure something out.”

“You’re so creative.”

“Well, the world needs all types, right?” You grin at him, “You have any more classes today?”

“Nope, I’m free until Friday. You?”

“I’m done until Monday,” You reply cheerfully as you slide over to him, and slip off your chair to sit on his lap, “Wanna come over?” You ask as you trail your fingers down his chest.

“That depends,” He catches your hand and brings your fingers to his lips, “What did you have in mind?” Dogma presses feather-light kisses against the tips of your fingers, his gaze locked with yours.

“Well, I was thinking I could paint you,” You lean in lightly in bump your forehead against his.

“Mm, you need another nude model, cyare?”

You laugh softly, “Well, I wouldn’t say no to that, but it’s not quite what I had in mind.”

He flashes you a curious look, “Oh?”

“Come home with me and you’ll see.”

“Tempting,” He releases your hand to press his hand against the back of your neck and tugs you in for a quick kiss, “Very, very tempting.”

“Tempting enough to follow me home?” You ask against his lips.

“Definitely.”

You kiss him quickly and move to hop off his lap, only for him to wrap his arms tightly around you and tug you back onto his lap, a laugh falls from your lips, “Dogma!”

He flashes you the smallest of smiles, and lightly rubs his cheek against yours, before he releases you, and allows you to stand. You wait until he’s on his feet as well, and then you take his hand and tug him out of the classroom.

Unlike Dogma, you don’t live on campus.

Also unlike Dogma, you don’t have a roommate, which is a good thing since every inch of space of your studio is covered with dried paint, paintings, or other art supplies.

The only exceptions are your kitchen area, which is spotless, and your bed.

“Why is there blue paint on your ceiling?” Dogma asks once you’ve let him in your home and locked the door behind you.

“I was trying something new.”

“Did it work?”

“Nah. Too much work for too little payoff.” You reply as you toss your mail in the kitchen, and then bounce over to Dogma. You fling your arms around his neck and kiss him deeply, “Love you~”

“Love you too,” his hands slide down to settle on your hips, and dip under the hem of your shirt, “Give me a couple of hours, and I can show you how much.”

You release a happy hum, “That sounds fun,” And it does, and if you didn’t already have plans, you would jump at the chance, “But I have something else in mind.”

“Oh?”

You grin at him and kiss him quickly, “You need to be inspired, and I intend to do that.” Swiftly you untangle yourself from him and you press your hand against his chest to walk him backward to your art table.

Dogma arches a brow and hops up on the edge of the table. He watches as you cross to the other side of the room and dig through your storage shelf, and his second eyebrow raises to join the first as you return with several bottles of paint.

“What’s this?”

You giggle and tug on the hem of his shirt, “You need to strip. Like I said, I’m going to paint you.”

Dogma picks up a bottle of blue paint and reads the label, “Literally, in this case?”

“Exactly.”

“And how is this meant to be inspiring, cyare?” He asks.

“You’ll see~” You kiss him one more time, and then turn to vanish into the bathroom. Eagerly, you strip your clothes off and change into a new pair of lingerie, it’s blue and lacy and both tend to drive Dogma insane. 

You emerge from the bathroom in time to see Dogma toss his boxers across the room, landing in the pile of the rest of the clothes that need to be washed. 

His gaze darts to you, and a slow smile crosses his face as he scans your scantily clad body, “Well now, is all that for me?”

“Always~” You cross the room over to him and he eagerly tugs you against his body, he’s already hard, and you can feel his erection pressed against your stomach. “Ooh, someone’s eager.” You tease as you shift so you’re able to trail your fingers down his cock.

“For you? Always.” Dogma tries to nudge you towards the bed, but you stop him with a press of your hand against his chest, “No bed today, cyare?”

You shake your head and push him back towards the table, “I don’t want paint on the sheets.”

Dogma allows you to direct him, for a moment, and then he reaches back and blindly grabs for the paint, “The paint is washable, beautiful.” He says with a grin as he presses the bottles into your arms, and then scoops you into his arms.

You laugh as he carries you over to the bed, settles you in the middle of the bed, and then climbs over you. “You’re going to have to wash my sheets,” You warn him as you reach up and cup his face.

“You mean, the thing I do after we have sex anyway?”

Your smile softens and you gently rub his cheek with your thumb, “What did I do to deserve someone as amazing as you?”

Dogma leans in and kisses you, “You tripped over your shoelaces and fell into my arms.” He kisses you again, “One might even say, that you literally fell for me.”

You laugh and wrap your arms around his neck, “You know, I was kind of looking forward to riding you on that table.”

Dogma groans against your lips, “Later, angel.” He grinds his erection against you, and then he pauses and pulls back to look down at the dark blue panties you’re wearing, “Are these crotchless?”

You smile innocently.

Dogma’s hand drags down your body, taking his time to caress every inch of exposed skin, until his hand dips between your thighs. He eases your legs apart and allows his gaze to drop from your face.

He slides his fingers over the lace of your panties, and then ghosts his fingers over your pussy lips, “You’re already so wet for me.” He speaks in a low moan, and he shimmies down to the bottom of the bed, though you stop him with a light touch of your fingers against his cheek.

Dogma’s gaze locks with yours, and he slides back up your body to press his lips against yours in a loving kiss that quickly becomes more and more heated.

You press your fingers against his shoulder and he allows you to roll him so he’s on his back, though he, very eagerly, pulls you so you’re positioned right over his cock.

“You normally love when I go down on you,” He murmurs, as his hands wander your body.

“I do love it, but today I’m trying to inspire you.” Slowly, with his help, you slide down his cock until you’re settled flush against him.

He feels so good inside you, good enough that you would stay like this forever if you could. 

“How are you going to do that?” He asks as his hands slide up your back and he unfastens your bra and slides it down your arms. 

You drop your bra off the side of the bed, and smile at him adoringly, “Well,” You murmur, “I thought that we’d stay just like this,” You lean down and kiss him, “While I paint you. At least until you lose your patience.”

“I’m a pretty patient guy, beautiful,” Dogma warns.

“Well then, you’ll have plenty of time for inspiration to strike you, won’t you?” You tease as you shift and give you both just a little friction, pulling a deep groan from his throat.

He grins at you, “I hope you don’t think I’m going to make this easy on you,”

“I would be disappointed if you did.”

He pulls you in for one more deep, lingering kiss, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” You mumble against his lips.

In the end, Dogma paints a stunning picture of a merfolk couple. If the merpeople in the painting were based on you and him, well that’s no one’s business but his.

[askaalaska-vdeppressed]

Eskel X Reader Kinktober: Day 4

(it's cock warming today but I didn't wanna put that in bold letters in the header. also yes I was kinda rushed today)

Rain pelted the ground outside, weighing down leaves and flowering things as it hurtled unceremoniously to the earth. Animals huddled into their burrows, safe from the angry clouds that tantrumed over them. Eskel and Y/n were like minded. The pair sequestered in the small cottage as the autumn storm rained coldly outside. Y/n was sat on the floor in front of an easel, brush gliding over canvas. She was painting the view from the window that afternoon. The leaves, bright and beautiful, were falling so gracefully that she had to capture the scene. 

Eskel was sat in an armchair by the fire, caring for his sword. His eyes occasionally flickering to Y/n, she had been there all afternoon. Unwavering in her attention as she mixed pigments and looked at her canvas from all different angles to make sure she was capturing everything accurately. It had grown dark now and Eskel would be lying if he said he wasn’t feeling a tad jealous. It felt silly being jealous over a piece of stretched canvas, but he was. Y/n hadn’t even gotten up to eat, just shrugging him off when he suggested lunch that afternoon. 

Eskel set his sword down, waking over to his enraptured lover and sitting down beside her. His head leaned against her shoulder. 

“You need to eat love” he rubbed his cheek against the soft cotton of her dress. 

“I will when I’m finished” She replied, not looking up from her work. Eskel huffed. 

“And how long will that be exactly?” he questioned, turning his head so she could see his face in her peripheral. 

“Not long now” She muttered, tongue jettisoning out of her mouth as she concentrated. And oh how that tongue caught Eskel’s attention. Sitting innocently over her sinful lips. Eskel knew the things that tongue would say. It was only she who could turn him into a mess simply by her words. But not just her words, that tongue was capable of much, much more. 

Eskel moved to sit behind her, hands rubbing her arms as he mouthed at her neck. He targeted the spots that made her weak. Slowly migrating his hands from her arms to worm their way down the front of her top. 

“Take a break” he muttered into her skin. 

“I can’t, I need to blend this while it’s still wet.” she said, eyes losing focus at the edges of her vision, from exhaustion or the haze of pleasure she wasn’t sure. Most likely both. 

“Eskel” she said now more sternly. “Do what you want to me, I’m not cracking.” 

“Is that a challenge?” He asked, eyebrows raising in internest.

“Only if you want it to be” she said with a smile on her face. This would be easy. 

It was not easy. 

Y/n had forgotten just how skilled Eskel could be with his hands. He had played her like a fiddle over her clothing. Then when he had tired of that he ripped open the back of her dress, sliding the sleeves down as much as he could without disrupting her hands. He then set to work lavashing her back with love bites. 

Her sleeves being so low irritated her greatly. That combined with the fact that she didn’t want to repair all of what she was wearing tonight made her stand to strip. Standing in her front room nude. She then moved to sit back down and continue. Just as she was about off balance while sitting Eskel struck, pulling her down onto his lap. 

She let out a huff as she landed, perturbed but not about to give in. She simply adjusted her self and started up once more. It was in adjust however that she felt the very familiar weight of a cock at the apex of her thighs. Eskel must have stripped himself when she had, probably thinking she had given up. 

Not that easily she wouldn’t. 

As she painted, Eskel gave small jolts to rock himself between her lips. His cock hitting her clit each time. Y/n bit her lip, trying to keep the growing wetness below her to a minimum. When she leaned forward to use her fingers on the canvas, Eskel’s hands lead her back, readjusting her seating ever so slightly so that on the next rock Eskel gave the head of his cock slipped in. 

Y/n expected this to go much like the initial teasing had. Him moving slowly so she wouldn’t notice as much. But after he had sheathed himself he just stopped. 

Just sat there and waited. 

At first Y/n was fine with this, she was making much faster progress now that he was no longer moving her. However Eskel was big. He filled her completely, which meant that with every little movement she made he was pressing against her sweet spots in the most delicious of ways. 

She found herself biting her lip, impatiently twitching the muscles in her thigh as she worked. This wasn’t fair, he was supposed to be touching her, pleasuring her, trying to get her to crack. Instead he was still, arms behind him as he leaned on his elbows, a smirk blatant on his face. 

It was at least fifteen minutes of this torture before Y/n concided and decided the painting was good enough. 

“I’m finished” she said, relief in her voice as she felt his hands at her side once more, guiding her up and then off. Eskel shuffled behind her, peeking his head over his shoulder. 

“It looks good babe, but you’re sure your done?” he questioned, leaving kisses once more in the skin of her shoulder. 

“Yes absolutely. Finished as could be” she said, looking over the canvas. It was impressive for sure but not nearly as refined as her normal work. 

“Great, than you can go eat now.” Eskel said cheerfully. It took a moment to register what he was saying, swfitly turning her head as she saw him leave her to go to the kitchen. 

[queen-of-writing-bad-things]

Danger Force Reader Insert | Captain Man x Reader: SEASON 1

Episode 3: Ray Goes Cray (SMUT)

Season 1 Masterlist

Click for vibes

*HOOOO, THIS IS A LONG CHAPTER. 31,000 words, mamacita! we're going straight in with some smut, and may I just say, I am quite proud of it. i was bored, sitting around my uni building, waiting for a VERY boring lecture, so...this...was born. 

Como siempre, mis amigos--as always--if you are too young for the nasty, DO NOT READ THIS. there is also a spicy bit in the middle, and fear not! Ray will also get his fun times soon ;)

also. fun fact that i did not know: cooper barnes (ray irl) was born in the same city as me :0 ...he's secretly english!

Anywho—¡Vamos!

"Taste so fucking good..."

(y/n) dozed peacefully, basking in the morning sun peaking through her curtains. It was early - she didn't know how early, but her foggy brain begged for a few more minutes. 

Dipping in and out of consciousness, she moaned softly, digging her chin into her feathery pillow as her skin warmed and prickled, feeling hazily heavenly. She couldn't remember another time when she'd woken up so peacefully in the morning--when the sanctuary of her bedroom made her feel so good... 

Were the sheets really so soft? Soft enough to make her feel like she was floating? Waves of subtle pleasure rolled through her body, spreading to the tips of her limbs and rolling in the back of her mind as she hugged a corner of the duvet. It was a little strange; for how cosily stifling the room felt, her bare body was exposed, stripped of any covers, making her twitch to pull them over her chest. 

"Such a sweet little thing..." 

She hummed at the whispering voice, swearing she was dreaming as she nuzzled her pillow more, begging her mind to fall asleep. The alarm clock hadn't rang yet, so she rightfully had those few minutes to herself - just her, the massive, soft bed, and whatever that good feeling was. 

She shifted slightly, rolling from her side to her back since her gut told her to. It murmured that she needed to widen her legs a little more, the warmth squeezing her flesh adding praises when she turned to jelly and relaxed. Her body seemed to move on its own like a marionette, utterly exposed, but that was okay - it felt too good to complain. 

A quiet moan fell from her lips, nothing more than a hum, and a curled fist scrubbed over her eyes in tandem with a hot thing. It licked up her leg--like the sheets brushed her inner thigh, making her jerk slightly, but then it was soothed. Heat settled into her core as her arms flopped beside her head, nude breasts heaving and painted in gold from the expansive windows. 

She loved the view, but she loved waking up to it more, squealing slightly as a jolt wracked her tummy. 

"God, you're soaked... Wanna fuckin' drink."

That made her eyebrows twitch; too much of a sensation in her core to be deemed normal. She hadn't had breakfast yet, yet she felt so full, like there was a pit in her empty stomach. The thirst was worse, craving something on her dry tongue as it wrapped around a scratchy whine. 

The fullness came and went - agonisingly slowly - yet left her hungering for more with an insatiable ache. 

It was a puzzle. A whirlwind of conflicting information, no matter how good it felt to lie there and question nothing. She had a scientist's brain, and something--the little grey cells at the back of her mind--said that the sun could never feel this good. 

It didn't treat her so gently, running from her collarbone, loitering on her tit, passing over her stomach and further. Slowly but surely, she came around, wondering if she was clutching at the last slips of a delightful dream when something nipped at her soft flesh before gently kissing somewhere in between. She never wanted to wake up if her mind could conjure such pleasure...

"Fuck, look at how you take me... Another, perhaps, sweet girl?" But the sun certainly didn't speak, and if it did, she doubted it would call her such names when it glowed so dazzlingly. 

Her eyes fluttered open, breaking the illusion of sleep as her senses exploded, noting that it was a bright, sunny day. She'd forgotten to close the drapes, so she rose at dawn. The laundry basket was full, so she'd have to put a load in the washing machine. Schwoz had texted her, so she'd have to see what the fuzzy little weirdo wanted. She could even see a V-shaped flock of birds flying past the mountain, telling her that a new day had begun. 

It was all very typical in the daily life superheroine, but something was missing. There were no arms around her waist, no warm lump for her leg to hook over, no nook to tuck her nose, and certainly no soft snores in her ear. No doofus. No Ray. 

So, what was that...good feeling?

Picking her heavy head up from the pillow, chin pressed into her clavicle in a very flattering position, she quirked an eyebrow at the thatch of chocolate hair poking from between her thighs. All she could see were two reddened ears peeking through the floof - no eyes, nose, or mouth. But goddamn, could she feel them...

"Doofus?..." she mumbled, watching his feverish bobbing through bleary eyes once she realised where he'd sneakily disappeared. 

"Yeah?" Ray asked casually, glancing up for the first time in an hour like it was the most natural thing in the world, regardless of whether his chin was slick from the mess at the apex of her thighs. 

His eyes were wide and innocent as if she'd interrupted a good book or TV show--as if he hadn't slipped under the duvet after waking up early, throwing it off their blazing bodies when he decided to have a little one-on-one time. Just him and his best girl, reacquainting each other while his wife got the sleep she deserved. 

"What are you doing?" 

"I was hungry..." he replied with a shrug, slightly muffled since he refused to remove his lips from her slick lips, licking lightly as she sighed. 

"Oh, God..." (y/n) gasped, not knowing if she was frustrated from how he woke her up to such an overwhelming feeling or if his tongue truly felt that good. 

Everything was so blurry, lines between reality and dreamland crossing until that scientist's brain couldn't make heads or tails of the world, but one thing was for sure - the pleasure was intense. Stronger than usual, wildly when he flicked her clit lightly. She cried out, her hand sluggishly finding his hair as he groaned at the sweetness pooling on his tastebuds. 

"So..." he continued, briefly pulling away to swallow and take a breather, "I cashed in a coupon."

"At six-thirty in the morning?" His wife retorted dryly, glancing at the clock to see that it was another early start because he thought with his cock, not his brain. She relaxed into the mattress, keeping her legs spread for him to resume his languid explorations, lapping at her fluttering hole. 

Whenever he wanted more to drink, he slid two fingers inside, surprising her at the little resistance and the wetness pouring out of her. He eagerly collected every drop on his tongue, groaning at the honeyed taste, and it made her think he'd been at it for a while, fucking her gently until her mind caught up with her trembling body. 

Those goddamn coupons, wrapped in several T-shirts and tucked into his suitcase for their flight home from Hawaii; Ray refused to leave them to go dusty on a shelf. No, he'd only used a handful and was eagerly waiting to cash them, not that he needed any more inspiration for their sex life. 

"Whenever, wherever you said," the man noted, having etched her promise onto his frontal lobe so they never stopped using them. He suckled on her clit, obsessed with how he could crook his fingers and make her writhe - his very own puppet - but it was the nectar he was after. 

A man couldn't live more than three days without climbing between her thighs, and he'd been quiet about it, settling below her without so much as a sound or accident. She slept longer than he had - who was his sweet girl to grumble?

"Okay, okay. But which one was it? The one where I can't sleep in?" (y/n) pouted moodily, yet didn't push him away. Her hand remained on his crown, encouraging him to keep doing whatever that thing was with his tongue as she brought the other to her breast, holding it gently, tweaking her nipple like he would if he wasn't busy. 

"No...overstimulation." The deep growl made her shudder, heightened by her fingers' sensation. He said it so casually, resuming his work like it was nothing, squeezing her thigh as he quickly picked up the pace. His digits plunged her cunt further, hungry for more now that she was awake and tempting him with her breathless moans and bratty remarks--fuck, her fingers in his hair. 

Seeing her sleeping and writhing was one thing - so fucking hot. She mewled in her sleep, bucked her hips like she was dreaming of having him in her pussy while he sucked the juices out of her, but nothing compared to how she called his name. His precious wife moaned his name under her breath when he slowly slid his thick ring finger inside her, bumping the cool metal against her folds as hers glinted in the sunlight. 

He could only imagine what raced through her mind as he flexed against the mattress. Still, he liked to think she dreamed of him above her, legs around his waist, nails digging into his back, and a Hawaiian sunset outside. He hoped to give her the same satisfaction in her imagination as he did now, grinding his weeping cock into the fitted sheet like he was back at the beach with her. 

That's how he got the idea for the coupons. Yet to see all that in real life, waking up with glowing skin and her half-lidded eyes, ordering him to service her like only she could - a man could go feral. 

"Overstimulation?" (y/n) gasped, whimpering when he squeezed her thigh a little tighter, too caught up in his thoughts to realise how she'd been toying with her tits and tugging on his scalp. 

"Yeah. A breakfast coupon, so I can get my fill of this pretty pussy," Ray smirked, licking his upper lip while calmly releasing her leg to reach for her smooth breast. He'd never lie to her, utterly besotted and softening as he felt its weight resting against his palm, thumb brushing over her nipple. 

His darling wife mewled and dropped her head back as the movement worked in tandem with his fingers, loudly fucking her needy cunt. He couldn't wait to fuck her out of her mind, having had much experience giving her two, three, or even four orgasms a night. But how many was her limit? How far could he go until she screamed, her throat raw, soaking the sheets? 

He wanted to find out--for science. Definitely for science. And maybe just to see his beloved wife fucked-out, wrecked, sweating, and jelly-like in their bed. 

"And I must say she knows how to feed a guy."

"Is that so?" (y/n) replied as calmly as she could muster, with his forearm jerking faster, plunging in and out between her thighs. She tried to keep her voice level, core clenching at the thought of him milking her for all she had. It sounded like a challenge, and Captain Man never backed down from those, camping with his mouth ready to collect as she squirmed. 

She felt it again--the sensitivity. Her head flinched to the side, cheek pressed into the pillow when the butt of his palm rubbed her clit, sending sparks along her spine. She never usually came so quickly, nor did it feel so intense, but Ray got her there, briefly leaning up to peck her neck, jaw, and lips as his leaking cock brushed her thigh. 

Fuck, she wanted it. 

"Yep! Made you cum twice before I even saw those gorgeous eyes of yours. That has to be a new record!" He gloated happily like he'd come first in a school race or beaten the smartest kid in class in a math test. She choked at the news, suddenly knowing why her cunt clenched so readily--why it wasn't gentle like a ripple in a pond as usual. 

He brought her to her third orgasm, having ripped the first two from her body while she dozed in the pleasure. No wonder she felt so good, lying there, letting him have his merry way as she came and came, giving him the honey he so desperately wanted while she twitched in her sleep. And it wasn't even seven AM yet...

"Raymond, I'm--I'm not a--a fucking Nintendo..." she gasped indignantly, hips jerking as he worked to bring her to completion again, remembering how she came so prettily for him earlier. But for someone so talkative, she arched her back and rocked her hips into his hand, pulling his face further into her pussy, among him smirk. Needy little girl.

Even in her sleep, she responded to his touch only, cumming with only a quick finger and kiss on her clit. He loved it, leaving her breast alone to sling a heavy arm over her stomach so he could savour the third. 

"But sweet girl...I play with you so well..." he remarked gently but oh-so cockily, mouth wide open with his tongue out and ready to catch her slick when she climaxed again. It wrung her out, a wave of intense pleasure erupting through her stomach as he groaned and slurped, loving how her slick spread to his wrist. 

She fought against his hold, gasping and swearing to God as his muscular arm kept her near his mouth, growling that he wasn't fucking finished drinking yet. He swallowed his fill, promising he could die then and there and go to his reward without regret, save that he didn't get to have one last drop. 

His fingers didn't slow, not even when she jerked and cried, shouting that it was too much, too soon, too fast, but he worked her through the sensitivity. Tears clung to her eyelashes, but she looked so damn pretty, eventually loosening her iron grip on his forearm when the painful sensitivity became burning pleasure--hotter than before. 

"Fuck--doofus--fuck me now?" She asked weakly, thinking she'd just about survive combustion if she had him inside her, craving the stretch of his thick cock carving her walls apart. His pace was torture, but she couldn't tell him to stop, suddenly feeling another climax in her stomach, slowly and steeply building. 

She rarely got four in one night - although it wasn't unheard of. For all his selfishness, Ray was a giver at heart, grinning into her folds as he slurped and sucked around his fingers, knowing he could beat his personal best. Usually, he paced her, spreading them out throughout the day or giving her breaks in between. 

But no; today, he wanted to truly break her--and it would be by his hand, even if his cock wept against the mattress. 

Unhurriedly and gently, he kissed her clit, murmuring praises to his second favourite girl as she provided such refreshment. His hips bucked when his wife moaned, thrashing wildly at the lewd sounds coming from her mouth and soaked pussy, unknowing if she wanted to cum again or push him away. But her arms were like noodles, limply resting by her side or on his head, taking without complaint, except that she wanted more. 

"You'll cum on my fingers and love it, pretty girl. I'm not fucking you," the man told her firmly, slapping her meaty thigh as (y/n) through her head back, whining childishly. It was so unlike her, but the thought of such a denial made her cry more than the bittersweet relief, wriggling her hips and stomping her foot into the springs in a small temper tantrum. 

"Pleeeeaaaseee? So fucking wet--just slide right in..."

Another slap landed on her flesh, tearing a choked moan from her swollen lips when her lover yanked his fingers from her tight hole at lightning speed, bringing them down on her abused cunt. Her entire body jerked, shocked by a jolt of violent pleasure surging from her clit and the sudden change as he reentered her body before he lost her fourth orgasm. 

"True..." he remarked smugly, drawing circles with the tip of his tongue as he settled down again, broad shoulders keeping her pinned legs spread for his feast. He wouldn't have any brattiness, crystal eyes glaring over the curve of her tummy as a warning - his coupon, his rules. 

It was like he'd never left, resuming his frenzied pace as she tugged on his brown hair, tears pooling in her ears as he chuckled. That tantrum didn't last long, her body melting into the bed to take whatever the fuck he gave her--and she'd be grateful. His cock would be nice, but having his pursed lips create a vacuum around her clit and his finger knuckle-deep in her pussy was good enough. 

"Shit, you were made for this, weren't you?" Ray groaned, prodding a third finger at her entrance as she began to mellow, so slick his fingers barely provided any sweet friction. A wail left her as the extra digit slid in without issue, stretching her walls perfectly and coaxing more wetness onto his tongue. 

He marvelled at how she accommodated him when he leaned back to pant and admired her precious centre, velvet clinging to his hand, pulling him in. So fucking needy...she was so innocent and demure, outwardly pretending she was above such debauchery. Yet, she took half his hand like it was nothing, sobbing filth into her palm as a soft sheen dappled her skin. 

"Mm-hmm... So, fuck me. Fuck your wife," she challenged, rocking her hips toward him suggestively--daring him to say to hell with it all and use her pussy in its rawest form. And she knew his most profound weakness--of course, she did. 

His eyes clouded further - if possible - as she weakly cupped his cheek, ensuring she pressed her fourth finger into his skin so he could feel the smooth pinkish gold of her warmed ring. If their honeymoon taught her anything, he got off on his wife--how she was tied to him forever. Their vows, the intimacy, the domesticity, the idea of being a family made her husband feral. 

Ray would be a liar if he said he didn't think about it because who was he to ignore his wife's demands? He lived to serve her, and if she wanted his cock, she could have it--God knows he was aching to slip in, pound and paint her walls until it stuck. But before that, he just wanted to try something...

"Now, now, darlin'. How am I supposed to drink every last drop if I'm not down here waiting for it? 'M not wasting anything."

He grinned, sucking on one of her folds, pulling it into his mouth and nibbling--just to hear her squeal for his sadistic satisfaction. "Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, y'know..."

"You're such a d-dork," (y/n) gulped, continuously licking her lips between gulps of air, not needing to look to know he was laughing at his joke. The vibrations rolled with his tongue, lodging a groan in her throat, making her feet hover next to his ears--it almost felt too good. 

"I could stop if you want..."

"Fuck--don't you dare!" She growled, eyes breaking open when she frowned, too close now to stop. It would be fucking cruel to deprive her as she hung over the edge, waiting to topple over on his command--when his fingers hit that special spot again. 

They flexed inside her again, rotating slightly at a different angle as Ray beamed and pulled one leg over her shoulder. He didn't care if it ached, leaning it back to press his face into his happy place, unbothered if it funnily squished his nose. This oasis was heaven for a parched, six-foot-something, doofy man. 

"That's my girl." He smiled, returning to affectionately kiss and nuzzle her clit. As if he could leave such a treasure without giving her a little sugar, hand blurring as it mercilessly plunged into her pussy, sensing the first ripples of her end. "How close are you?"

"So fucking close--shit, I--I can't cum again, Ray--" she gasped, head jolting from side to side as her stomach clenched and spasmed, becoming impossibly tight. 

How could she forget who he was? Captain Man had a learned speed, moving faster than most and with such power. He relentlessly milked her for his benefit, getting off on her orgasms more than she did, but she didn't care. His heavy arm kept her still, allowing him space and time to curl those three fingers inside her as his hips shuffled against the mattress, rocking the bed. 

"Yes, you can," he groaned, forcing himself to keep his eyes open even as he fucked the bedsheets, pretending they were her cunt wrapped around him. "Give it to me, sweet girl. I want it...feel it coming." 

It hit her like a freight train, slamming hard enough to make her howl and scream at his word--like she'd ever cum without permission. Always his good girl. Her fists tightened, nearly shredding whatever cotton she could grab as he laughed into her pussy, delighted by the slobbery mess on his tongue, gulping everything down, shaking his flexing muscles through her walls. 

He briefly removed his fingers to lap at the source, humping the air when a gush streamed into his mouth, imprinting on his memory forever. Two fingers parted her lips, inspecting her quivering hole, remarking he could fuck her now, and she'd still fit like a second skin. But he wouldn't, staying on his stomach as his dark gaze studied his perfect wife - and the mess she'd made. 

"Too fucking good to me, sweet girl..." Ray praised her, pulling away momentarily to smooch her inner thigh and regain his breath. Her skin glowed in the morning light, sticky and searingly hot, but she looked beautiful, even if she could barely open her eyes. He loved her like this, too weak and tired to do anything, and it gave him the job he craved more than anything - to be the one who cared for her in this most vulnerable state. 

"And, goddamn, so sweet you are..." His arm stretched over her body until his fingertips brushed her lips, smearing her slick around them. Her mouth dropped open feebly, moaning softly when they pushed inside to share what gave him the fucking will to live before he pulled them away. 

Perhaps it made him greedy, but he wanted every drop to himself, licking at the trickle that ran down his wrist and forearm, sucking on each finger down to the last knuckle until his hand was clean. Four was a lot, yet as his beloved wife lay there, breathless, exhausted, and beautiful, a dastardly idea came into his mind. 

"...One more," he declared quietly, and much to (y/n)'s shock, gasping loudly, his fingers slipped into her cunt once more. 

She swore she couldn't do it three fingers full, again, and more sensitive than she'd ever been, an overwhelming pressure bubbling in her belly as he slowly pumped in and out. A single kiss was placed on her pubic mound, his head lazily resting on her shaking thigh as he toyed with her--as if he was experimenting, rubbing her clit like a kid who--couldn't--stop--touching--

"No, no--no, Ray, I can't--"

"Let me try, sweet girl. Come on, one last time..." he murmured, using his most soothing, velvetiest voice to ease her worries because he knew her limits. He knew when she'd had enough. He knew when to back off. She could leave that to him, and he'd take care of her. Always had, always would, so he curled his digits and renewed his efforts, going deeper and harder than before, if not as fast. 

A strangled shriek left her, shattering the peace of the early hours as a pillow soared through the air, landing halfway across the room. She thrashed, kicked, and screamed, pounding her fists beside his head before roughly yanking at his hair, nearly pulling out clumps. 

This was too good, feeling like a rocket was about to burst through her tummy, a different kind of pressure quivering in her core. Honestly, it frightened her a little. Something felt off - not a bad off, but it had never happened before, making her think something was wrong as her walls convulsed like crazy, untying a knot she didn't know was there. 

"Wait, Ray--I--I'm not--I'm gonna---fuck!" Before she could say anything else, push him away, or work out what had happened, the world went black - the only thing in her eyesight was a tiny white pinprick like when she turned off her grandma's TV. 

The last thing she heard was Ray's groan; it sounded like he was underwater as her body went limp, falling into the deepest, most comfortable sleep of her life in what could've been an eternity for all she knew. 

Between her thighs, the man fucked her through the hottest thing he'd seen in his life, mouth wide open, tongue arched over his bottom lip when she gushed onto his hand. Not a droplet, a trickle, or even a wave, but a waterfall of sickly sweet liquid dousing his face's lower half in what had to be more than a mouthful. It didn't stop, pouring out of her in jets, thoroughly soaking the bed below her, and (y/n) didn't even know. 

She'd fucking squirted. And it was hot. 

"Oh, fuuuuuuuck--" Ray sang his praises as he slurped whatever he could get, thinking that if sipping on her cunt was heaven, this was nirvana. He wished he'd recorded it, wanting to replay the moment over and over again when, to his utter surprise, she came out of nowhere, and the fifth time was the charm. 

In all his born days, he'd never made anyone squirt, for all his experience and past lovers, believing it was a pornographic myth, so to see his sweet girl turning into his personal fucking fountain...he'd never recover. It ruined him - honestly, truly, completely wrecked him, leaving the mighty hero gasping and pussy-drunk against the sheets as she lay there - seemingly lifeless, yet glowing. 

It took a moment to catch up with reality, swallowing and swallowing and swallowing without thought until he realised that his precious wife was motionless. Head back, arms bent beside her ears at an awkward angle, mouth propped open from that final scream. Thanks to his godly prowess, she was out for the count, dozing better than any sleeping pills could ever provide. 

"Sweet girl?" Ray called out gently, stroking and squeezing her thigh as he waited for a response. Nothing, not even a flutter of her eyelashes in recognition. 

"Pretty girl?" He tried again, gulping the honey on his tongue to speak louder, but still, she didn't move. 

"(y/n)?" This time, it was more like a whimper as he crawled up her body, careful not to trample her noodley limbs. Hovering over her body, his frame supported by a beefy pillar beside her temple, his knuckles dragged down her cheek, catching on her tacky skin, but he didn't notice. 

All he cared about was that he'd fucked his wife unconscious--perhaps fucked her too well. He kissed her forehead, bottom lip wobbling, tears lining his lashes when she didn't respond, and guilt pooled in his stomach. He'd wanted that last one--wanted to smash his record of getting five orgasms under his belt in less than an hour, but he'd gone too far. 

The only consolation was that he'd married a strong woman. A capable woman. A woman with super-regeneration, so he didn't lose himself in panic, streaking down the hall to get help. The last thing he wanted was to go find Schwoz and tell him that he accidentally broke his wife after fingering her too much. It would break his handyman, too. 

He'd never get over the shame, so he padded off to the bathroom, ensuring he left her comfortable with the quilt pulled up to her chin lest she get cold. Quickly soaking a rag in cold water and filling a small glass, he returned and left them on the bedside table before tucking himself into her side. 

Like a lost child, he nuzzled into her chest, chastely pecking the curve of her breast as he gazed up at her. Now, it was just a waiting game, endlessly praying that she'd wake up soon as he stiffened like a sardine. It didn't matter if they lay in grimy sheets, tired and dehydrated; he had to see those pretty eyes to put his mind at ease. 

So, he waited, and waited..until fifteen minutes had passed, never once moving or leaving his place by her side. 

"D--doofus?" A croaky voice creaked as its owner sank into the land of the living again, feeling like she'd been hit by a bus. 

(y/n) woke with a thudding in her core, heart, and head, yet for all her heaviness and exhaustion, she felt strangely...complete. Like an emptiness had been filled, soothing any complaint she had, and that's when it came flooding back to her. Rough fingers, deep growls, a pleasurable fullness as a brief torrent ravaged her thighs - a mythical sensation. 

"(y/n)?" Ray gasped, eyes darting up from where he'd been re-memorising every bump, freckle, dimple, stretch mark, and inch of cellulite on her body. To his delight, he saw a crinkled smile staring back, warming his heart when he realised that his precious wife had woken up - exhausted and delirious, but she was awake. At long last. 

He leapt onto his elbow, pulling the comforter entirely off her body, so he could check for injuries or some shit--like he'd just lay there and let her hurt. She was fine, reaching up to stroke her fingers through his bed-head, her arm aching like all hell. 

"You know I don't like it when you call me that... Sounds weird," the woman joked, nose wrinkling at how serious he sounded, unlike the carefree, lovable idiot she'd married. She didn't know what had happened, but she was sure it didn't warrant her yucky given name; she was too used to all those sickly pet names. 

"Shit, sorry, sweet girl, but you scared me."

"How?" She frowned, leaving his hair alone to thread her fingers through his, holding his hand since he clearly needed it. They were together in their bedroom, wrapped up in a post-orgasmic glow, so to see him trembling and on the verge of tears nearly made her cry in sympathy. Her poor doofus - he looked like a kicked puppy...

"Passing out on me like that. Thought I'd...broken my wife," he confessed quietly, pulling her wrist to his mouth so he could smooch her pulse point loudly--just glad that it still thrummed under his lips. 

He'd genuinely been afraid for a second, hearing her heartbeat but seeing no other signs of life, meaning those fifteen minutes were the longest of his life. What would he do without her? Knowing that he'd hurt her, even in the throes of passion, killed him and cut into his soul a little bit, but as he subconsciously drifted away, (y/n) pulled him back in. 

She pressed their bodies together, enjoying his bare skin on hers as her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him into a long, slow, passionate kiss. While a little timid at first, Ray soon groaned into her mouth, submitting himself for her pleasure as she ran her tongue along the seam of his lips. Now, this felt good...

"What happened? I remember having the best damn orgasm of my life, and then everything went black." She glanced away briefly, hearing nothing but their ragged breaths once they pulled away, tentative but as intimate as always. 

"You ever squirted before, darlin'?" He asked quietly, smoothing his hand over her curves as her eyebrows knitted together. 

It almost made her recoil, putting something like that down to the job of a...night flower or someone similar. Of course, she'd read about it, but then again, it was confined to the trashy women's magazines, something her limited previous partners never had the talent or interest to achieve. 

"No..."

"Well, it's fucking hot." His boyish grin said everything, and her mouth dropped open, much like he had done, when she felt the wetness between her thighs, under her ass, seeped into the sheets. 

Fuck, she'd have to put them in with the next laundry load, but under his proud gaze, there was no room to be ashamed. It felt like an accomplishment, especially when she caught the slight sheen on his chin and chest, which certainly wasn't sweat. So, that would explain the peculiar but not unwelcome taste she'd found when kissing him. 

"Safe to say I won't need coffee after drinking from you this morning."

"That's...oddly sweet," the woman giggled, tilting her head back when her husband kissed her cheek and jaw, utterly besotted with the walking pin-up he'd scored. Of all the girls he'd loved before, and there'd been many, no one compared to her, not when she held him in her arms like he was born to be there. 

"Not half as sweet as you."

"Someone's trying to get lucky..." she teased, holding his face to her neck, enjoying the ticklish sensation when it dawned on her. She'd cum five times, but Ray? He'd not cum once, and that seemed highly unfair. 

"I can't feel my legs, but I'll suck your cock, doofus. Let you cum down my throat..."

"Um...that's okay." 

Four-Oh-Four, (y/n) not found. She blinked in surprise when her doofus, the world's horniest man, the man who seduced her and had her in his bed on their second day of dating, the man who fucked her every morning without fail, the man who'd just fingered her unconscious...had refused a blowjob. It just didn't make sense. 

He lived to see her on her knees. He'd die to have his tongue wrapped around his cock while he lied back and guided her movements. If he couldn't fill her pussy, she could be damn sure he'd drink every last drop. 

He just wasn't the type of guy to decline her eager affection, and it made her mad? Concerned? Offended? Disappointed? Maybe a mix of all four. 

"Okay, are you broken?" She blinked, gently pulling back on his hair until she saw his bashful expression. "'Cause I just offered to suck you off, and you turned it down. Are you even my doofus?"

"Yeah...I'm yours," Ray quickly nodded, strangely too shy to meet her eye. Still, he revelled in her love, not embarrassed to rub his cheek against her shoulder affectionately as he cast his gaze downward. "But, I, uh...took care of it."

(y/n) followed his stare, going down their bodies as he shuffled back a bit, revealing a distinct wet patch on the bed, and this time, it wasn't from her. 

She knew what she saw: a thick, pearly, sticky liquid clinging to the fitted sheet, right where he'd been jerking his cock to her quivering and moaning. His cock was flaccid, untouched yet fulfilled, with the slightest smear of cum on his inner thigh, but really, his pinks ears and cheeks gave it away. 

"Oh." Was all she said, blankly meeting his eyes again as her face warmed too, although hers was more from the power surge. Pride bloomed in her chest, feeling like she should shout from the rooftops that she'd made the great Captain Man cum early without touching his dick - the guy who could fuck for hours and still hold his nerve. Talk about pussy power - hers was fucking magical.

"Yeah," the man shrugged, slightly embarrassed when she chuckled, but it was worth it when she returned to dotting kisses over his face, placing a final one on the tip of his nose. 

If anything, she was flattered, knowing they had two mattress protectors underneath them for a reason. It was so he could flex his coupons all he wanted, and her honeymoon plan had worked; that had to be one of the steamiest sessions of their lives. 

"Guess it was hot, huh?" She smiled, closing her eyes when his head fell to the crook of her neck. They'd rest for a bit longer, just until their alarm clocks rang, and then some more. 

"Sweet girl...you have no idea."

~Swellview Academy for the Gifted~

It was another school day. A new morning, new lessons, and more wisdom for Ray and his sweet girl to impart to their young and impressionable pupils. 

To start things off nicely, (y/n) had planned a test for Mika, Miles, Bose, and Chapa - nothing huge, just a few notes to ensure they remembered the curriculum. It should've been easy, but nothing was ever straightforward in SWAG, which she and her doofus quickly learned when they gathered around in the classroom, ready to explain what the kids had to do. 

The couple stood at the front of the classroom, waiting for their students to settle down, but that was easier said than done. They watched tiredly, pacing slightly whilst Ray tapped a baseball bat against his palm as the kids rolled around on gym balls. It was funny seeing how they boinged around on their butts and tummies. Still, it was also pathetic, given that four soon-to-be professional heroes were currently being bested by some big bouncy balls. 

"Doofus?"

"Yeah, darlin'?" Ray hummed as he frowned at the ridiculous sight of pupils, turning to wrap an arm around her shoulders and brush his lips against her forehead. 

"You look handsome today..." (y/n) cooed as she raked a hand down his front, feeling his stiff muscles under her fingers. 

He smiled at that, feeling his core clench at her touch and flirty tone, glad he had something to make him happy since his team was failing so miserably. Her eyes couldn't leave his body, thinking he looked unbelievably hot in his tight T-shirt, a simple thing, yet it made her thirsty like they hadn't...all week. For some reason, she felt extra touchy today, making even his grumpiness seem hot. 

"I don't look handsome every day?" He flirted back, trailing his hand down her arm as she gave him what Henry always called her "goo-goo eyes". God, how many times he had to leave the room because he saw that look...

"Of course, but..." she trailed off, not-so-subtly glancing from his lips to his belt buckle as Ray pushed his chest out. Admittedly, they'd gotten out of bed a little earlier than morning to set up this test, so affection was few and far between, but, usually, he was the flirtatious one, not that he was complaining. 

"Are we doing anything after this class?"

"I don't think so..." he grinned, catching her drift when she waggled her eyebrows suggestively, even as the kids flailed and groaned. She was unusually needy, knowing it had been a long few weeks, with opportunities for alone time few and far between. It wasn't easy for lie-ins when four kids were pounding on the door at eight-thirty every morning. 

"Why do you wanna f--"

"Ah!" His lips, curled in a smirk at first, twisted into a frown when a familiarly scarlet bolt of electricity zipped past (y/n)'s body, narrowly missing her arm if it wasn't for the pearlescent glow in her eyes. 

Sensing danger before it hit, she bowed her back and arched into her husband to avoid getting hurt. His arms wrapped around her, keeping her pressed against his rugged chest as he glared at Chapa, who obviously didn't mean to fry her teacher. Still, she couldn't control a little current escaping her fingers as she stretched over the squishy ball. 

Retirement didn't sound so bad right now - what did a man have to do to get a moment's peace to flirt with his wife?

"All right, that's enough!" Ray growled, turning off a digital timer on the board since the test was now useless. Everything was ruined, and hearing (y/n)'s little gasp when she dodged the jolt was the last straw. He really was Mr. Grumpy Pants today...

"How'd we do?" Bose asked breathlessly as they stopped wriggling around, although Chapa flopped onto the floor with a grunt. The couple looked at them with a cringing disdain, wondering where they went so wrong because this was just the beginning - so very simple. 

"Poorly!" the hero replied gruffly, which wasn't the best thing for poor Mike to hear. She wasn't one to fail tests, something (y/n) related to, and instantly felt uncomfortable knowing they'd fail because she needed academic success as personal validation.

"Can we practice tonight and retake this test tomorrow?" She begged, appealing to the heroine's kindness and mercy since she knew that if anyone could master the art of bouncy-ball-sitting, it was her. Smashing the competition was what she did. 

"This wasn't even the test! We just thought it would be fun if you guys sat bouncing for a while!" (y/n) sighed and scrubbed her face with an open palm, feeling her lust fade away, wondering where her instructions went so wrong. Of course, she'd planned something much more complicated to test their heroic abilities - what would bouncy balls do?

"Why don't you sit bouncing if you think it's so easy?" Chapa sneered, feeling humiliated that she'd bellyflopped the floor after floundering like a fish. And all because they wanted to have fun? She laughed at that, giving the adults her usual sulky pout. 

But Ray -shockingly- didn't rise to her challenge, scrunching his nose before pulling the remote control from his pocket. He blasted each gym ball, turning them to ash and cinder so the kids fell against the tiles again now that the fun was over. He was such a killjoy but didn't dwell on their failure, waltzing to the lectern to begin his lecture, yet not realising how his wife watched his every move with catlike eyes. 

"The real test is about to begin..." he revealed, and they quickly got to their feet, eager to please if he gave them the chance. 

"Okay, who can tell us the easiest crime to commit?" (y/n) asked, rubbing elbows with her doofus, the slightest touch making her tummy flutter. She wasn't usually so needy, but there was something about him today... But she had to focus on her teaching, giving the children one of her bright, warm smiles to show them that she didn't care if they got it wrong - she just wanted their best. 

"Jaywalking!" 

"Jay-dancing!" Mike and Bose suggested with rapid-fire enthusiasm. Chapa, however, wasn't so chirpy, standing there with her arms crossed as Miles took his time--like always. 

"Stealing my phone!"

"White-collar crime. Rarely prosecuted," the boy retorted, knowing a strange amount of real-world issues for someone so young. His voice was so dry, but he was confident, knowing he was correct even if they weren't expecting it. 

"You're all wrong--except for Miles," (y/n) grinned, feeling like she was genuinely imparting her knowledge, and the boy nodded smugly. 

"No, we're talking about a crime that's so easy, it's like taking candy from a baby--" Ray grinned sneakily, a strange glint in his eye as he teased the group, refusing to tell them what he had planned. While his sweet girl covered the learning side, he liked to make things fun, often roping his faithful handyman into his schemes since he'd never do anything humiliating himself. So, right on cue...

"SCHWOZ!" He yelled, looking at the room at the back of the classroom, where someone could take the stairs to the Man's Nest if they wanted to. The genius skipped into the room with a moody expression gracing his face as he briskly passed the children, looking like he was regretting his life choices. 

And why wouldn't he? Per his boss' instructions, he wore a ridiculously garish onesie instead of his overalls, looking stupid with the puppy-print fabric tucked into his work boots and a giant rainbow lollipop in his fist. He felt silly, hearing the giggles around the room as he twirled before standing still, acting like an infant just because Ray threatened to fire him if he didn't comply. It wasn't fair, but he needed this job...

"I am Baby. I loves me lolly, and I hope no one takes from me..." he said bitterly, glaring at the couple across the room--at Ray because he forced him to do this, and (y/n) because she tried and failed to hide her laughs. She chuckled into her hand, thinking he was the fuzziest, cutest, yet weirdest baby she'd ever seen, and he wasn't impressed.

"So, you want us to stop you from taking candy from a baby?" Mika asked, understanding what Ray meant now that she saw Schwoz, and (y/n) nodded. 

"Oh, not us! My sweet girl would never hurt a baby, and I'm far too good a person for that," the man replied innocently, making his wife roll her eyes because she knew of his lesson plan. It was strange and wacky but totally Ray, and whilst schwoz wasn't happy with being roped into his schemes, he couldn't wait to impart his knowledge. 

"You're stopping..." he paused, turning away from the kids and bending over, swiftly rubbing his fingers through his hair and pressing something sticky on his upper lip before turning around again.

"ROY!" The man declared, spinning around to glare at the puzzled team with a crazed look in his eye, looking deranged with his hair all mused and a fake moustache plastered under his nose. Ray--or Roy as he called himself--sneered at the kids, who didn't understand what he was playing at when he crept around the mini-stage, much to his sweet girl's exasperation. Most schools weren't like this...

"Roy?" Miles frowned with his eyebrows knitted together.

"It's Ray but evil..." (y/n) explained tiredly, nudging her doofus in the ribs when he tried to stick his face near hers, grunting like a weirdo as he acted as this...character. 

"And I hope he no takes me lolly!" Schwoz whimpered fakely, pretending to be scared as he wiggled the candy in his slightly sticky hand. Honestly, he wasn't paid enough for this. 

"Oh, Roy's takin' that lolly...unless somebody...stops me," Ray growled in his adenoidal voice before creeping forward like some kind of Scooby Doo character--all exaggerated with his crooked fingers and giant steps. The kids didn't need to be told twice, readying themselves for the mentor's bizarre challenge. Chapa stepped up first, sliding in front of Ray, determined to prove herself after so many weeks of failing with her electricity. 

"Get zapped!" She hissed, immediately thrusting her arms forward to release some sparks, but still, her aim was terrible. Whilst she could conjure her power, when it burst forth from her fingertips, it whizzed past Ray's body, going wide and forcing (y/n) to hop the sidelines with a yelp. The man smirked smugly, standing like a statue as the girl desperately tried to hit him. Still, he didn't even need to try and protect himself - she couldn't even hit a stationary target. 

"No!"

"Okay, maybe not--maybe this one!" Chapa grunted, trying again with her other hand, releasing a small fork of lightning that barely brushed his ear. Even if she aimed correctly, it wasn't exactly a bolt from the heavens, just a tickle to sting the skin and make someone jump. 

"Miss!"

"This one! Stop--stop dodging!" Her open palm shot a bolt toward the ceiling, and the more she tried to zap that smirk off his face, the more Chapa grew frustrated. Her aim grew worse, blasting everything but Ray as he chuckled, so she swore he was cheating, swaying out of her range before her electricity could land. 

"Didn't even have to dodge. Roy don't dodge!" Ray retorted, loudly whispering to the kids and winking at his sweet girl like it was a secret. (y/n) suppressed her smile as Mika, Bose, and Miles rolled their eyes, rooting for their friends more than their cocky teacher.  

Even though it was a little mean to taunt her, he wasn't wrong, standing in the same old spot as she kept sparking, only to release a bolt that ricocheted off the smartboard and zipped back toward her body. It shot past her head and hit poor Schwoz in the eye, making Baby whine as he clutched his face, wondering what he did to deserve such rough treatment. 

"Dang it!" Chapa growled, scolding herself for failing the test since she obviously had. She wasn't an expert at this rescue thing yet, but she was pretty confident that shooting the vulnerable victim wasn't heroic. 

"You failed to stop Roy--next!" Ray announced with a tiny dab, thinking he was so hip and down with the kids with the dance moves he'd seen on Twitflash. After Chapa sulkily returned to the lineup, Bose skipped into the middle, not knowing what was happening. Still, he'd give it his best shot--and all with his usual innocently sweet smile. 

"Did it get a little cloudy in here? 'Cause I think a Brainstorm's a-brewing!" He quipped, proud of himself for thinking of something so witty since Ray liked it when they said cool things before attacking. As much as he wanted them to be swift and efficient, he loved a little flare, appreciating the clever wordplay from a kid typically so dense. 

"Ooh, sick entrance line. Roy approves! Let's see how you do with the execyoosh!" Ray cackled, sneaking back onto the lecturing stage as Bose prepared himself. 

Like always, he pressed two fingers against his temples and outstretched the other hand, aiming to lift Ray's baseball bat with his telekinesis. For something made of light yet durable aluminium, the boy made it look impossible, grunting and straining as his curled hand attempted to raise what felt more like a boulder than a bat. It moved a little, sliding across the floor limply as Ray stared at it blankly, knowing the boy's plan would be too obvious if he was a villain. 

"How is that supposed to stop Roy?" He asked thickly, throwing the kid a bored expression when the baseball bat floated horizontally, shaking terribly as Bose struggled to concentrate. 

"Whack him, Bose!" Mika encouraged him excitedly, hoping he'd manage to hit the hero and end his smugness. 

He groaned again, feeling like his brain was about to explode as he crooked a finger, commanding the bat to move slightly, picturing a cartoonish image of a crook getting beaten over the head with a bat. However, his wasn't precisely a damning blow--more like a gentle pat as it lightly tapped Ray's perky butt, making (y/n) giggle as it jiggled like jelly. Bose dropped the metal bat with a deep sigh, feeling exhausted despite the gentle exercise. 

"Sorry, guys..." he panted at his friends, his chest rapidly rising and falling as Ray rolled his eyes, easily distracted by the pretty girl at the lectern. 

"One more grunt, and I'd have to change my pants again today."

"Thanks for the weapon, kid. Roy played baseball in high school. Four hundred RBIs--could've gone pro if it wasn't for Roy's dang knee..." Ray said wistfully, going into a surprising amount of detail as he pouted at his injured leg like he'd genuinely lived this other life--all in the third person, apparently. It gained him a few weird looks from the kids and his wife, who wanted to know how long he'd been picturing Roy and his evil life after they'd planned this lesson. 

"How deep is Roy's backstory?" She asked, looking amused as Ray turned to her with an enamoured smile. He didn't look the same with that moustache like he was amidst a midlife crisis. However, she still saw her doofus, giving him an alluring gaze when he sauntered to her side, smirking. 

"Deeper than the seas, pretty girl, where Roy is a certified scuba instructor..." he crooned, thinking something like that would be hot and attractive to his wife as she giggled. Loving her bright smile, he stepped forward and cupped her cheek, hoping to satisfy his craving for something sweet by leaning in for a small kiss...only for (y/n) to put her fingers betwixt them. 

"Hey! I want a kiss..."

"Sorry, Roy. I only kiss my husband, Ray," the woman teased him, watching as a kaleidoscope of emotions whirled across his face in a split second - from confusion to sadness to anger to resilience. 

He pecked her open palm instead, accepting her refusal with dignity and grace since he saw the game in her eyes. As if the ring on his finger didn't match hers, but he shrugged it off, knowing he'd have her once they caught a moment alone and resumed the exercise. 

"Next!" Mika walked into the middle of the room with a confident face, eager than most to impress Ray. She'd wipe that disappointed, lovesick, puppy-like expression off his mug, having practised her super-scream every night for the past week to try and strengthen her vocal cords. 

"Get ready to be...blown away!" She exclaimed, as eager as Bose with her witty entrance line, although it wasn't quite so creative. And it didn't help how she twitched her fingers to highlight the pun, making her quip seem clunky and forced, unlike her friend's smoother delivery. 

"Unnecessary air quotes--B minus!" The hero retorted, making the dark-haired girl grit her teeth and curse. She wasn't used to failure, being the kid who always earned gold stars at school, but it wasn't all bad, not when she'd caught Ray in a particularly tetchy mood after (y/n) teased him like that. 

So, she didn't let the lowered grade deflate her enthusiasm, shaking her limbs loose as she dipped into concentration. Her hands opened next to her head, stretched open as she screamed, attempting to flex her throat in the unique way that made it super. It worked, vibrating slightly to create airwaves that tickled Ray's face and ruffled his hair a little, chocolate locks flapping gently in the breeze. 

He didn't look very impressed, and she guessed if this was real, Baby wouldn't have his candy anymore. 

"Take that!"

"Took it. Bored! Next!" Ray snapped and dabbed, quickly burning through his protégées and their pathetic powers. 

At long last, it was Miles' turn as his sister returned to the sidelines, grumbling, but he didn't see as...hurried as the others. He strolled calmly in front of Ray, looking rather bored with the situation--almost as if it didn't bother him. Flashing Ray a sickly sweet smile, he shoved his hands in his pockets, clearly making no attempt to teleport, attack, or pull any other manoeuvre to save Schwoz, much to the adults' confusion. 

"On the contrary, there will not be a next time," he declared confidently as Mika facepalmed, exasperated by his stubbornness.  

"What?" Ray frowned, wondering if he'd heard the kid correctly. He set the rules here and expected all the children to participate in his lessons, even if they were strange since they'd help them learn. What was Miles' deal?

"I refused to be tested, Roy," the kid replied, giving his boss a sceptically harsh glance as he refused to use his superpower. "I won't play your game. And besides, the solution will reveal itself.

"So...you're just gonna let Baby die?" Ray asked incredulously in his silly, evil voice, which made everyone ponder his words because he didn't say that before they started. They didn't think the exercise was so...critical and anguished, especially Schwoz, who looked up from picking his fingernails with a pale, panicked face. 

"Wait, what?"

"I thought you were just gonna take his candy!" Chapa gasped, thinking that if she knew the supposedly delicate and dangerous situation, she and the others would've tried harder. (y/n) observed quietly, folding her arms as she watched her husband dither, aware that he'd diverted from his plan and now had to think of an excuse. God, his arms looked really good in that shirt...

"What you don't know is that...the lollipop contains the very medicine that keeps Baby alive," Ray explained, making everything up as he went along. Still, they nodded, going along with whatever he said since this was his charade, despite Schwoz's bored grimace. 

"Miles, you have to fight him! You can't just wait for every problem to solve itself," Mika told her brother sternly, ignoring his impudent shrug. He always did this, believing more in his hippy, karmic nonsense than reason or science, and often refused to work because of it. He thought the universe would pay him back for being a good person, and whilst that was somewhat true, it frustrated everyone to see him standing idly by. 

However, the universe must've loved that boy. By some mystic intervention or Lady Luck's grace, Miles' problem was solved by a sudden and unexpected interruption as the school's security system kicked in, warning its occupants that someone was wandering too close for comfort. 

"Stranger approaching. School mode activated." The automated voice spoke robotically as the lights flashed red, meaning the test would have to resume another time before this wanderer saw something they shouldn't. 

"All right, test over!"

Ray and (y/n) were the first to jump into action, highly protective of their secrets as Schwoz took off running and screaming, knowing there was little he could do but hide - a weirdo like him wasn't exactly fit for public view dressed in a onesie. Ditching his moustache and shoving their flirting aside for now, the couple quickly instructed the kids to look normal as the classroom cleverly hid its superhero gear and replaced it with pens, pencils and coloured paper. 

"See? The problem solved itself. Feels good to be right!" Miles grinned as his friends dashed about, hugging the walls as the desks popped out of the floor and the chairs came down from the ceiling. 

"You're still gonna do that test!" (y/n) told him firmly, wanting to add to her notes about the boy's progress, and she couldn't do that if he didn't complete it. Still, she left the discussion there, hoping her warning sunk in as she and Ray slipped into their dapper blazers, rolling their shoulders to get used to the stiff material - looking so formal wasn't their usual style. 

As the board changed to some random, boring schoolwork, the kids hastily took their seats, settling into what appeared to be an ordinary lecture whilst the teachers hurried to the door. 

"Hello?" They could hear someone shouting from the other side of the thick oak, a scratchy, whiny, vaguely familiar voice before they took a deep breath and twisted the golden knob. Just act normal and pretend like it was a real school...

Ray opened the door to a Fuschia-wearing monster leaning on the frame, and he felt a shiver roll down his spine as he met its eyes. And he knew them all too well. He and (y/n) thought they'd seen the last of Sharona Shapen, an old acquaintance from Henry's school days and someone he'd not only had the misfortune of taking on a date once but kissing too. 

The thought made him want to puke, but first, he wanted to know why the garishly hideous woman was standing in his front porch light.

"Oh, hey, handsome!" Sharona greeted Ray smoothly as she waltzed into the building without so much as an invitation, ignoring the pretty woman by his side. The hero shivered at the so-called compliment, not wanting her or anybody else to flirt with him while he loved his wife--so now until forever. 

"Uh, can we help you?" (y/n) asked awkwardly, knowing she'd just been ignored like a doormat. Yet she held her ground as her husband closed the door, peering at the gangly woman as she analysed the classroom, looking ridiculous in her bright pink suit. Sharona had never been what one would call a fashionista. 

"Depends. Do you know any good-looking guys with low standards?" The blonde asked humorously, clearly the same sad, lonely woman she'd been when Henry Hart was still her pupil. Her personality didn't help, having a penchant for being awkward and weird, as well as her tacky dress sense. 

But the heroine didn't feel any sympathy for her, not when she always wooed her doofus like she wasn't in the room, so she chose to stick to his side, ensuring her gleaming wedding ring was on display. She wouldn't let her anywhere near her lover without hosing him down afterwards. 

"No, I'm married. I don't need to look for guys anymore," she replied with a polite yet strained smile, threading her arm through Ray's as he smiled. He still wasn't used to hearing it, beaming with pride that the woman on his arm was his wife, not that it phased Miss Shapen. She wasn't picky, not at all, and that's when it hit Mika. 

"Wait, aren't you a teacher at Swellview Junior High?" She asked, knowing she'd seen the woman before when she attended regular school. But she'd never been one of her pupils because she left before she was old enough for those classes. 

"I was, but Swellview Junior High and I both decided it was time to part ways."

"So you got fired," Chapa retorted dryly, knowing she was sugarcoating the truth because schools didn't let teachers go without a good reason. And with Sharona Shapen, (y/n) could believe it, having heard all about her bizarre exploits and low expectations when her old babies used to visit the Man Cave after school. Good times...

"Bingo! Anyway, I work for the city now. Sharona Shapen, school inspector, see?" The woman announced, showing them all the official identity papers she pulled from her back pocket and the couple wished she'd shown them when she first walked in. 

But that was part of her plan, smirking slightly when she saw how they gulped at the revelation. Before, she was just another overworked, underpaid teacher doing the nine-to-five. Still, now, she was in a position of power--and it definitely went to her head, making (y/n) pray that she went easy on them. 

"Gotta make sure every school in Swellview has a license, and, according to my records, you ain't got one!" 

"Well, can we get one?" Ray asked quietly, audibly swallowing the lump in his throat as his sweet girl's tummy fluttered with nerves. She hadn't thought about that - a license, assuming that high on Mount Swellview, no one would care if they opened a school, given how they were tucked away, minded their own business, and mostly kept to themselves. 

Neither she nor Ray thought about regulations or inspections; they just wanted to teach four kids to be superheroes, but the city officials had apparently noticed. 

"Maybe..." Sharona replied curtly, enjoying watching the handsome man and his timid wife squirm as she tucked her clipboard under her arm, 

"But you gotta pass my test!"

"I can pass your test! Anything! Give me your test, and I'll pass it! You got this..." Mika exclaimed, mumbling words of encouragement as her competitive streak flared upon hearing that word - test. She loved them, making her a little crazy, but she was good at them, studying harder and longer than most to prove that she was better than the rest. 

"Not you, smarty pants!" Sharona, however, wasn't so impressed, wondering where the try-hard popped up from and why she thought she could pass anything. 

"Thank you! I like yours too..." Mika grinned shyly, weirdly thinking the woman's curt tone was a compliment, but at least it seemed to smooth over her foul mood. 

"I bet you do...They're Bucci!" Miss Shapen replied smugly, turning around and wiggling her butt to the disgusted team to show them the disaster label. She had no shame, parading around with Bucci--some hideous, gaudy fashion designer--emblazoned on her ass in sparkling diamantes, both on the jacket and her pants. 

The suit must've cost thousands, yet for all that money, she still looked like a fire-damaged Barbie doll...

"This whole school needs to pass my test. You kids, the water supply, your hot teacher, his little wife..." She explained, and whilst Ray appreciated the small compliment, (y/n) couldn't help but growl. What did she need to do to make this woman back off?

She hugged his arm to her chest, glaring at Sharona for flirting with her husband, especially when she recognised their marriage and still disregarded it. Of course, he was hot, achingly so, but only she got to point it out...and see him naked. 

But she brushed it off, wanting to hear more about this test as the children wriggled in their chairs, uncomfortable with a stranger in their classroom. 

"I need to conduct a thorough investigation of this school right now, or I'm shuttin' it down!" The inspector declared, acting a little too dramatic for everyone's taste. Still, they said nothing, not wanting to upset the Fushica overlord before she handed the license over, even if that couldn't be today. They weren't ready...

"We can't take your test today because we're going on a field trip!" Mika lied nervously, and luckily, Sharona wasn't too bright. She was still suspicious, eyeing the kids and apparent teachers as they smiled sweetly--perhaps too sweetly. 

"Where to?"

"A field," (y/n) said instantly, not missing a beat as she stood a little closer to her doofus, her face stern and severe like a firm, merciless teacher, much like Sharon's used to be. It sounded absurd, but a field trip was a field trip, no matter where they went, and the woman could hardly argue with that if one of the headteachers said so. 

"Can I come?" Sharona asked, wanting to know what they were teaching in the field, but the heroine had an answer, too. 

"Did you bring your parents' signature?"

"No, my parents are ashamed of me," the weird woman replied, staring at the floor as everyone coughed awkwardly. They could believe that, observing the inspector and thinking she wasn't exactly a superstar in her eye-wateringly bright outfit. But this was good, and they had to fight the smiles itching to get onto their faces as they lured her away from snooping around the school. 

"All right then. Well, have a nice day!" Ray told her with a quick smile, reaching out to take her by the shoulders and guide her toward the door--to whichever hell hole she came from. The sooner she was gone, the better, and luckily, she didn't protest, shuffling toward the exit with nothing but a mildly confused countenance.  

"Well, I'll be back tomorrow!"

"Can't wait for that..." (y/n) hummed, standing by the door, ready to pull it open so she could throw Sharona out on her ear. She'd undoubtedly return to flirt with her doofus, darkening the heroine's mood, but at least they'd be rid of her for a short while. 

"And I better see some teaching. And some learning! Some Phys Ed, some Driver's Ed--I wanna see all the Eds! And if I don't...I'm shuttin' it down!" The loudmouth woman decreed as she paused in the doorway, glaring at the meek couple, who gulped at her furious tone. 

They didn't doubt her word, not liking the thought of being shut down by Sharona Shapen, of all people, and if SWAG was to go, they could say goodbye to Danger Force. The kids needed the school to fool their parents and learn to control their powers. So, when (y/n) finally closed the door behind her, bolting it to stop the beast from reentering, she and Ray faced the kids with worried frowns. 

"We better find some Eds..." the man announced to the sombre room, blowing his cheeks out as (y/n) held his hand tightly, watching the children exchange concerned glances. 

Okay, she'd take that kiss now. Anything to soothe her frazzled nerves...

~The next day~

True to her, Sharona showed up at SWAG the very next day. 

She strolled up to the front door like a woman on a mission, determined to prove her authority and power with the mere clipboard in her hand, wearing another hideous outfit – this one a grotesque prune colour, complete with a frilly, flowery blouse. This time, she hoped to catch the handsome teacher and his stupid wife off their guard, knowing they wouldn't have two field trips in one week, so she eagerly pressed the doorbell, ready to wreak some chaos. 

But Ray and (y/n) hadn't been idle. Despite only having a few hours to prepare, they and the kids devised a curriculum for her test, organising many fake lessons to please any city inspector. Everything had to be perfect, from the classroom layout to the kids' behaviour to the teachable content to the teachers. And the couple certainly brought their A-game. 

"--And now you know everything Albert Einstein knew..." Ray told the room as he answered the door to the walking grape, grimacing when he noticed how she leaned on the doorframe again - apparently her seductive pose.

"Oh, hello! Whatever brings you to our modest and totally real school?" The hero asked politely as he smiled, knowing he risked a slap from his sweet girl if he dared to sneer at the woman. 

He was dressed to the nines, turning his business casual style from yesterday into an outfit fit for the gentry. Instead of his usual comfy, unbelievably hot t-shirt, he wore a proper button-down under his perfectly ironed blazer. He even tucked a regal silk cravat between the loosened collar, hating how warm it made his neck, but (y/n) said it was fetching. 

She didn't quite agree with his knee-high riding boots. His tan trousers were tucked into them, giving him an air of nobility, although she still preferred her silly doofus. 

"Cool your boots, fancy toots. And you, Little Miss Muffet, out of my way!" Sharona scoffed at their excellent manners, showing her lack thereof as she pushed her way into the building, rudely barging past (y/n) as she did. 

If it wasn't for her façade of politeness and gentility, (y/n) would've given her a couple of fives right up her hooter. But she relented, staying true to her mission as she brushed the invisible dust off her uniform and carried on calmly. 

She'd also swapped her casual jeans and t-shirt, wearing a tight but not too revealing pencil skirt, which matched her femininely cut jacket. And whilst she preferred sneakers for when she was lecturing, her simple, black heels made her legs look long and elegant, so, prettied up with the diamond earrings from their anniversary and her hair all pinned up, she looked like an actual headmistress. 

That, and Ray thought she looked hot. 

"It ain't real until I says it's real." The couple rolled their eyes as Ray closed the door, wondering when they sunk so low to take orders from Sharona Shapen, but they bit their tongues. It was just for one morning...

"Now, let's blast some school inspection music and get this done!" They couldn't argue with that, not if they wanted to receive a notice of closure, so they let the woman do what she wanted. 

As the music played an upbeat, hip-hop pop song, they began to show her what SWAG had to offer. Like sound, diligent students, the kids gathered around with exaggerated awe, listening intently as Mr and Mrs. Manchester talked through what the lessons were today - all while they sipped from their his and hers mugs. At least Ray looked calm, playing with his charm and devilish good looks to soften Sharona up, even if it made (y/n) break a pencil or two. 

First, they started with science, allowing them to introduce the inspector to Professor Schwoz - the part-time science teacher. He knew the plan to make it seem like the children were learning as he swirled a few potions and lotions to impress Sharona--and it worked, even if Bose tried to drink hydrochloric acid like it was lemonade. 

She didn't know what half those chemicals, powders, and doohickeys did, but it looked...learn-y, which she quickly noted on her report. 

Next, Ray took gym class - the only thing (y/n) could see him instructing successfully, other than hero stuff. Of course, they didn't have anything suitable to show a civilian, nothing that didn't include blasters and super-suits, so he opted for the big bouncy balls again, getting them to bounce around like it was good exercise. 

Well, it seemed enough to please Miss Shapen, who enjoyed seeing the children boinging on the lively things...but she liked seeing Headmaster Manchester in his gym clothes much more. 

Then, (y/n) took math class, expertly guiding the children through quadratic equations and the Pythagorean theorem as if it were child's play. Her plan was to baffle Sharona with numbers, spouting some mumbo-jumbo about Xs and parentheses as Mika, Miles, Chapa, and Bose nodded like they understood the scrawlings on the board. 

"The square of the hypotenuse of an isosceles triangle is equal to the sum of the square of the other two sides." She made it sound simple: quickly find C after jotting down a few numbers. 

It wasn't tough since she loved math. She breathed math. She'd die for math. But it was enough to impress the snooty, violet-wearing woman observing her lecture, who'd learned something or two while she noted everything down. 

Finally, the final lesson rolled around, and this was the big one. The grand finale. The class about the learning of things that had already happened. History. The adults went all out, giving each kid a period costume and a prop to carry as they reenacted the Battle of Swellview, marching past Sharona with their antique swords, scrolls and ginormous flag. 

They claimed the land - or stage - for their new city, gathering around with their dramatic poses and extravagant costumes as the inspector watched with tears in her eyes, full of pride for the founding story of her city. 

Ray couldn't help but feel smug, swirling the last trickle of coffee in his mug since his precious wife drank half of it, saying his had just enough sweetness for her liking - much more than hers. But he couldn't be mad, half-cocked and drooling as she watched her lecturing the class as if it was her destiny, swanning around in that pencil skirt like his teenage pin-up. 

His wife was hot, and everyone knew he turned into a lust-addled zombie when she talked numbers. So, when Sharona finally concluded her test, he was barely listening. 

"Well, that's it. You all failed!--" She announced, pausing the catchy song as the group stared at her in disbelief, baffled as to where they'd gone wrong. They thought it was perfect...

"What?! How?" (y/n) gasped, breaking her doofus out of his daydream about seeing that skirt on the floor as she squeezed his hand. Was this it? Was her ridiculous, itchy dress and mob cap all for nothing? She didn't want to lose the school, not so soon after opening it, and her heart was in her mouth until...Sharona smiled, pulling the biggest UNO reverse card ever. 

"--Failed to do anything wrong! You passed!" She declared, much to their immense relief and delight. 

The children and Schwoz cheered and high-fived each other as Ray and (y/n) embraced and shared a quick kiss, stopping short of swallowing each other's faces after a tense night of very little passion. He looked surprisingly in his sailor's hat and period-style shirt - Mr Darcy, who?

"Swellview Academy for the Gifted is an officially licensed school..." Miss Shapen told them as she passed Ray a freshly signed certificate, which decreed that the city recognised their right to educate its youngest and most impressionable students. It would look great on their wall, all framed and displayed for all to see and admire. 

"Nice!" Ray grinned as he eagerly showed it to his precious wife with a peck to her temple. He squeezed her tightly as she took it from his hands and squealed, believing their worries to be over...

"You'll get your two new students tomorrow." But, of course, nothing was ever simple. Their joy and merriments died after the moody woman added the baffling news, making them stare at her with deeply concerned frowns. Hoping they misheard her, they gasped, not liking what they heard because it sounded like she said new students, but surely not...

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa...Take that and rewind it back!"

"What new students?" (y/n) questioned furiously as she and Ray stepped away from the horrified children and faced her, but Sharona didn't bat an eyelash. She didn't care about their arguments or discomfort; she had a job, so it wasn't personal, even if she'd like to get a little personal with a certain someone...

"Oh, well, there's a shortage of available space at gifted schools. I got two kids who have been learnin' at a bus station for the last month," she explained, making the Danger Force team scowl, suddenly feeling grateful for the clean and proper facilities provided for them. 

But, as much as the sob story made (y/n)'s heart hurt, she refused to take on more students. She exchanged a worried look with her husband, who was on the same page as her, thinking their superhero duties would move to the back burner with two randomers snooping around the school and possibly the Man's Nest. Ray wouldn't have his sweet girl looking so nervous, boldly stepping toward Sharona again with a defiant frown. 

"I'm moving them here tomorrow."

"Well, what if we don't take them?" He asked, turning his nose up at the thought of more children running rampant in his home, rapidly becoming a goddamn daycare. 

"Well, then, I'm shuttin' ya down!" The woman replied haughtily with what was rapidly becoming her catchphrase. She pulled a small removed from her pocket, glaring at the rebellious couple as she pressed a button to summon...police officers?

They stormed in as a shrill siren sounded, entering the building with stern faces, alarmingly short shorts and sleeves shirts. And it wasn't even that hot outside. The chief, some tall, intimidating dude, stomped in with his beefy guns out, harsh gaze flickering from the puzzled kids, horrified couple, and to one very smug inspector. 

"You shuttin' this place down, Sharona?"

"I don't know... Are we?" She asked, coldly looking at Ray and (y/n) as they sighed, knowing their hands were tied. This was her way of flexing some muscle, scaring them into compliance, no matter how much they resented the thought of two bus shelter charity cases. As much as they wanted to shout, kick, and scream, neither wanted to get into a fight with the police, so with a defeated shrug from his sweet girl, Ray growled and deflated. 

"Fine--we'll take 'em!" He conceded, but he wasn't happy about it. However, Sharona appeared delighted, turning to her muscular enforcers with a mischievous smirk - (y/n) was just glad it wasn't aimed at her doofus. 

"Then, carry me out, buster!" She exclaimed before, in a bizarre, almost concerning feat, leaping across the room and into the chief's arms so he could carry her out bridal style. Her gangly frame looked unsteady in his embrace despite the man's apparent strength. But, unfortunately, the other policemen closed the door before the team could see if she fell flat on her face. What a shame...

"See you tomorrow!"

"We're screwed..." (y/n) noted once they were alone with nothing other than the revelation that SWAG was getting two new students in the morning. The certificate in her hand felt obsolete now, the joy draining from their bodies at the thought of babysitting two kids while fighting crime. 

The thought was impossible, making her give her doofus a worried glance as he wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders. They needed a plan--and quick. 

~The Man's Nest~

After that sobering warning from Miss Shapen, the Danger Force team gathered upstairs to lick their wounds and formulate a plan - anything to save their secret operation. 

Each person was tasked with researching their own idea of how to get rid of these two new kids, thinking, tapping, or, in Bose's case, nibbling as they went. There had to be a way of getting rid of them, preferably without too much mess - looking at Chapa there - the only trouble was nailing it. 

Mika was particularly tenacious, on the ball as always, but what was new there? As she sat at the mini-supercomputer, the others listened intently, even though whatever she'd thought of wasn't what they'd had in mind - more like blood, murder, and pitchforks. 

"So, we find these kids' personal information, and then, we fill out an application to--"

"Boring!" Ray interrupted the poor girl as he sat on the back of the couch, looking far more fetching now that he and his sweet girl had changed out of their fancy clothes. His muscles in that bold-pattern shirt looked good enough to eat, but (y/n) frowned at his rudeness, knowing Mika was onto something. 

Of course, she was. She was the one who told her where to look and what to look for in the first place. 

"Raymond!" The heroine scolded him, and Ray stood up from where he'd been perched on the back of the couch. He gave her a slight pout but didn't apologise, believing he'd done nothing wrong. In fact, he merely kissed her forehead and brushed past, thinking he held the solution to all their problems - being the thinker he was. 

"Schwoz, go get the Memory-Wiper! The new kids show up, we erase their memories, badaboom bada--" he smirked, much to the kids' frustration. They'd been over this a million times, but no matter how much they explained it to him, the doofus wouldn't get it past his thick skull. Not even if (y/n) smushed his cheeks together and made him listen. 

"Do you ever listen?!" Mika shouted dramatically as Schwoz rubbed his temples, feeling a migraine coming on. 

"I told you ten times!" The genius told Ray, looking thoroughly exasperated since it was like trying to talk to a brick wall, especially when he took an interest in the new jeans (y/n) was wearing. 

"The Memory-Wiper got destroyed when you, Miss Danger, and Kid Danger fought Drex! It's not going to conveniently get us out of things anymore..."

"Nice try, doof..." (y/n) hummed, walking over to pat his chest and give her husband a quick smooch as he groaned. He really thought he was onto something, but they'd have to be more creative than that. Schwoz could make another Wiper, but that would take too long, and it was old tech anyway. He wasn't the type to look back - it distracts from the now. 

"I know how we can get rid of these kids..." Chapa remarked as she looked up from her tablets, and all her friends turned to stare at her, including the kissing couple. This would be interesting...

"We get a chainsaw, and a ceiling fan, and a--"

"Chapa, no! No violence, no blood, no murdering, and certainly, no chainsaws!" (y/n) told her sharply, pinching her eyes for the hundredth time because all of the girl's ideas had been like that. Dark, demonic, and highly illegal, decidedly not in line with Captain Man's heroic values. 

She scowled at that, slumping in her chair as the man crouched down to her eye level, wondering who he'd pissed off to deserve such a troublesome pupil. 

"What's your deal? Why are you so scary?" He asked, but that seemed to infuriate her more as she leaned closer to his face with bared teeth and blazing eyes. 

"A boy stole my cell phone!"

"So, buy another one!" Ray snapped, unphased by her thunderous voice because it was the same old rhetoric. 

He and his sweet girl had discussed this many times, but neither understood the kid's obsession with some crappy, outdated PearPhone, and it was getting old. Anyone else would've simply moved on, bitter but free from the burden of a grudge, but not Chapa. She took things much more seriously, like the theft was a black mark against her ancestors or something. 

"No! If you're best friend got stolen, would you just buy another one?" She asked furiously, and it wasn't the first time the Man's Nest had seen such an argument. She never backed down nor gave up, stubborn to a fault, but unfortunately, so was Ray, and he didn't shy away from a fight either. 

"Yes! I fell in love with my first best friend, so I hired a new one!" The man replied instantly, causing (y/n)'s ears to superheat since she wasn't expecting him to put it so bluntly. As she scratched the back of her head and giggled nervously - a clear sign to the kids that Ray was talking about her - the hero took a moment to spare himself the heartache. 

The reality of it all was hard to acknowledge out loud. 

"Then, he moved to Dystopia, so I bought four new ones!" He exclaimed, and honestly, that made them melt a little. Whilst they knew Kid Danger was special to Captain Man, always had been and always would be, it was nice to see that they filled the Henry-sized hole in his heart. Sort of. 

"Aww...love you, man," Bose cooed, reaching to bump fists with his mentor as he and (y/n) tried not to get mopey. The kids were good, but really, they didn't replace anyone...

"We'll get there," Ray let him down gently, briefly tapping his knuckles since he wouldn't call any of them his best friends. His wife would always be his first and greatest relationship, but he'd learned that with time, his love grew - not shared or halved, but it grew. Very slowly. 

"Anyway, doofus, I've been doing some research, and, according to The Big Book Of Swellview Laws, if these new kids agree to leave the school on their own--" (y/n) quickly moved on, tapping the spine of a heaven-sent, hazy hardback copy of the city's craziest laws. They still had work to do, but it was a start, and Ray couldn't help but beam at his wife's brilliance - she was so hot when she was being clever. 

"Then, Miss Shapen and her sleeveless goons can't shut us down! Nice work, sweet girl!" He chimed, blindly tossing the book over his shoulder when he plucked it from her hands, too eager to sweep her into a whirlwind of a kiss to care if it nearly hit Bose. Which it did--and Miles, who glared at the hero for almost killing him. 

Exactly! And no throwing things inside, Raymond. What have I told?" She nodded, slightly breathless from the passionate assault on her lips. Still, she remained firm, glimpsing at the boys apologetically as her guilty lover shuffled to retrieve the book like a good boy. 

"So, we just make life as miserable as possible for these new kids, and they agree to leave on their own," Chapa supposed, much to Ray's delight.

"Good plan, Chapa!" He nodded, clapping his hands together as (y/n) rolled her eyes. She'd basically come up with the plan; the girl merely read between the lines, but she let it go, too distracted by the large, warm hands that suddenly appeared on her waist. 

"And shockingly, not violent," Mika added, thinking her friend had refrained from her usual murderous ideas for a change, and it was lovely. She still didn't like the sound of torturing the new students on their first day, but where Chapa was concerned, it wasn't half bad. 

"...You didn't let me finish." Or not. The Latina rose from her chair with a cunning smirk, picturing scenes of horror and gore that would drive out any pathetic and unwelcome children from their school. 

"We find out who they love the most, and then, in the middle of the night, we--"

"Oh, come on!"

"Chapa, please!"

"You were doing so good!" Her friends groaned, not wanting to know what horror-film outing she'd planned since they knew it would lead to no good. As they cursed her for being abnormal, Chapa shrugged, wondering what all the fuss and nonsense was about--just because she saw things a little...differently. Blood-soaked with curdling screams of pain and anguish. 

In her mind, it worked - removing the problem perhaps a little messily, but so what? You can't make an omelette without breaking eggs, and if these new kids had to be the eggs?... Well, so be it. 

~The next day~

Bright early, everyone arrived in SWAG the next day, ready to give the new students hell. 

Perhaps it was a little unfair - it wasn't their fault that Sharona Shapen chose the only secret superhero school in the city to be theirs, but that didn't matter. Ray wanted them gone, and what he said went. Some of the plans were ridiculous, especially the giant high-striker Schwoz had installed at the front of the classroom. No one had any idea what the boss wanted to do with it. 

It was big, brash, and blue--kinda like Ray in that sense, and he chuckled to himself as he strapped his handyman into the device's little chair. His feet were already aching in his stiff riding boots, feeling like he had two lumps of cement on his feet, but it would be worth the pain of tricking the new brats into leaving. 

And he'd never complain about seeing his sweet girl in that pencil skirt, his eyes constantly glued to her ankles like an enchanted Victorian gentleman. (y/n) was a little flustered and jittery, pacing the room while biting her fingernails. Still, she powered through, turning a blind eye to every misdeed her friends committed - all for the greater good, apparently. Although, she swore there had to be a simpler way...

"Doofus, what are you doing? (y/n) asked her lover as he fiddled with the belt buckle on Schwoz's chair, and from where she was standing, it sounded like he was torturing the guy. He groaned and moaned, lolling his head from side to side, quietened only by Ray's occasional sharp warning. 

"You'll see, darlin'. All in good time..." Ray grinned, hoping she'd see his intelligence genius in the same way. But then, he glanced at his watch and paled at the time, knowing that the devil and her sproglets would soon be upon them--and he'd hardly created a classroom of chaos yet. 

"Hurry up! They're coming!" He shouted to the children, who'd been sent off on various tasks to try and find things to make their guests feel extra welcome. He didn't care what it was as long as it made them utterly miserable, although Schwoz didn't make it easy when he slapped his fingers for messing with his buckle. It was like he didn't want to help, no matter the cost...

"Ray, (y/n)! I found this broken chair in the basement!" Bose announced as he dashed into the room, wheeling an antique wicker wheelchair in front of him. 

It looked like it was at least a hundred years old, making (y/n) turn her nose up at the musty smell, and she assumed that it was something the previous owners must've left. She'd never keep something decrepit, and Ray wouldn't be seen dead in a wheelchair. Ever. 

And that wasn't all; in the chair's lap, he'd turned a rickety old stool upside to carry that too, and on closer inspection, it looked worse than the chair. Full of woodworm and rusty nails, the heroine was sure she'd need a tetanus shot if she sat on it - and that was coming from someone with super-regeneration. 

"Love it! Explain..." Ray nodded appreciatively, staring at the antiques with much more love than his wife could muster as they huddled together to hear Bose's plan. 

"We'll make one of the new kids sit in this rusty, busted-up thing, and we'll make the other sit on this termite stool," the boy smirked, knowing that his plan would cause pure despair for the students, even if it was a little mean. 

"What's a termite stool?" Mika asked from her desk, where she'd been feverishly researching something (y/n/n) told her to look into. She'd told her to work smarter, not harder, but when she heard something so stupid, she couldn't help but be distracted. 

"Stool full'a termites! Give it a sit!"

"No..." she quickly declined, returning to her work as Bose shrugged. He didn't care when the torture device was meant for someone else. Still, Mika didn't like the idea of using little insects to bite the unsuspecting kids, which was why she'd been working on something much kinder--and more straightforward, quicker, cheaper. Nothing could go wrong. 

"So, I was thinking--"

"Not finished!" But the long-haired boy had other ideas. Surprisingly, for one so dense, he'd been exceptionally proactive, coming up with not one but two mischievous ideas, even if the latter wasn't as strong as the other. 

"When the new kids get here, I'm also gonna use my powers to make stuff float. And I'm gonna use my throat to make ghost noises like, souuuuuuup!'"

"Soup?" (y/n) frowned, wondering why he thought a ghost would say that. Maybe it sounded a little spooky, but she couldn't take him seriously, not when she could sense Ray's jerking shoulders next to her. He thought it was funny, muffling his chuckles against her cheek when he hid his face from the boy. 

"Ghosts love soup. They tell me all the time."

"That's not concerning at all..." the woman mumbled to her husband, who could honestly say his eyebrows were through the roof. As if they didn't think Bose was bizarre enough, but now he was a medium, too. Fabulous. Either that, or he was hearing voices, and everyone knows what happens to people who listen to the voices in their heads...

"Good enough... Hey, where's Scary Bradshaw?" Ray asked, quickly moving on before they had to have the kid sectioned. And speaking of disturbing children, he'd noticed a dip in the negativity in the room, and that's when it hit him. Chapa hadn't said one rude, mean, or borderline psychotic thing in at least ten minutes - how long she'd been out of the room. 

"Chapa is hiding in the closet with a chainsaw. When we give her the cue, she's gonna jump out and scare the new kids!" Bose explained, having passed the girl after finding his chairs. It was like something out of a horror film with her sitting in there, waiting to pounce on whichever sucker walked in, despite being warned not to meddle with dangerous stuff. 

"Hey, I thought I said no more chains--"

"Hey, sweet girl, it's okay. Like it, love it, I want more of it!" Ray grinned, dismissing his wife's concerns since he saw no harm. Chapa was a competent and resourceful girl, and he'd seen a lot of thrillers - chainsaws got terrified kids running like nothing else. 

"What you got?"

"I plan on living with an open heart and a strong mind. And I'll remain like that until the solution presents itself," Miles replied when the teachers turned to him, still sitting on his holier-than-thou high horse since he was about his karma and all that mystic bullshit. The hero's proud smile quickly fell, unable to believe what he heard; would the kid ever do some work?

"Who made you this way?" the man asked tiredly, regretting all his choices at that moment. Open a school, they said. It'll be fun, they said. Train four kids at once, they said...

"The system!" Miles hissed, ready to go on a marching warpath since no one ever took his concerns seriously, being the warrior of social justice that he was. 

"I miss Henry--I miss Henry--I miss Henry..."

"It's okay, doof. Just...think nice thoughts. Go to your happy place!" (y/n) soothed her husband as he ran a frustrated hand through his floppy hair, longing for the days when he only had one sidekick - a funny, intelligent, obedient, capable boy who idolised him. And he was never like this. 

She sympathised with him; whilst she wasn't Miss Danger initially, she knew Henry took to the hero's life much more quickly than Danger Force ever did. They'd worked together for so long that everything felt natural and easy. Ray struggled to remember the early days when Henry spilt his secrets, disobeyed a few rules, and used his sidekick status for his games. 

"My happy place..." Ray hummed, smiling softly when he took a minute to tilt his head back and close his eyes, instantly knowing where he wanted to go. An island in the Polynesian Pacific, no kids, no cellphones, no villains turning the place to shit, just him and a very sweet girl strolling the ocean's side - maybe a few kids running in front of them. 

That made him happy--enough to calm his temper for the next kid.

"Mika!" he called out, looking at the girl, who'd barely said a word all morning. She'd just tap-tapped away on her PearPad, ignoring the world around her for whatever was so momentous on the screen.

"Okay, don't be mad, but--"

"Yeah, but see, that always makes me mad..." Ray replied anxiously, wondering if she'd done anything to help and none of that so-called scheming she liked to do. He wanted action, not a namby-pamby cleverness because no one liked a know-it-all except when his darling wife was all hot and smart. 

"Let's just hear what she has to say, Raymond. Go on, Mika..." (y/n) told him gently, tangling her fingers with his as the girl nodded at her reassuring smile, glad someone could control the man-child. 

"Well, actually, it's one of your ideas, but once I've learned these kids' names, I'm gonna enter their personal information into--" she tried to explain after digging and finding that the woman's suspicion was correct. She could get the kids to leave without leaving her seat, doing more damage on her tablet than Ray could do with a million blasters in the field, but he didn't see it that way. 

"A supercomputer that will eat them?!" He proposed, making his precious wife sigh and smack her forehead. Why did he have to be so impatient?

"No!"

"Then, I don't care. Next!" The hero told her rudely, earning himself a whack on the arm from (y/n), who frowned at how he dismissed poor Mika so swiftly. She barely got a chance to explain, but the girl wouldn't be defeated when she had Miss Danger on her side - thank God that man married someone with a brain cell. 

"Just keep doing that, Mika, 'Kay?" She told the kid quietly as Ray rubbed the rapidly fading sore spot on his bicep, whining over annoying his sweet girl. He didn't want to upset her, longing for a bit of intimacy since it felt like forever since he'd had her all to himself. Still, he couldn't think like that, not even when she strolled around in that goddamn skirt. 

"What are you gonna do, doof?"

"Well, I'm glad you finally asked, sweet girl..." he grinned, eager to please and impress as he gestured to the high-striker ensnaring Schwoz. Although she'd already asked about it and watched him fiddle with the gizmo, she still listened intently, feeling like she was watching a little boy on Christmas morning as he showed off his weird toy. 

"It's a test of strength. Just like any other test of strength you'd see at a normal school," Ray presented to the class, earning a few confused stares since that wasn't exactly true. 

Still, (y/n) wouldn't stand for mockery of her beloved doofus, aware that he barely remembered school after finishing the third grade. That was the price of being the world's greatest superhero, making her smile sadly as he obliviously twirled the giant hammer in his strong hands. She'd do anything to keep him so playful and childish...

"You use this hammer to make Schwoz go all the way up there to ring that bell!"

"Hello..." the small man awkwardly waved at the kids, looking confused, irritated, and tired. He was just doing as he was told, despite not knowing entirely what he'd signed up for when Ray said all the way to the top. That sounded...painful. 

"How is this gonna make the new kids want to leave?" Mika questioned, interrupting the happy couple as (y/n) curled an arm around her lover's neck to gently kiss his lips. She couldn't help it if she found him utterly adorable above all his flaws, and those lips were too soft and delicious to ignore when they called to her like that...

"Ha-ha! You'll see!" Ray giggled, pulling away to rest his chin on his wife's head, looking a little too excited for a guy who'd merely installed a high-striker. 

"Please tell me nothing bad will happen," (y/n) begged him, hating the idea of cleaning up another implosion, spillage, or riot. She didn't like it when he tried to be mysterious; often, it was better for him to run things by her first - less chance of death, fire, murder, rampaging, pillaging, or plundering that way. 

"Just wait and see, pretty girl..." But the hero would reveal nothing, leaning down to find her honeyed lips again and smother her pout. While he couldn't promise something entirely harmless and clean, it would still be fun, hopefully enough to drive the new kids away. 

But the moment didn't last. Before he could hold her face to his, keeping the sweetness' source still for him to drink from, the school's security system kicked in. It was an absolute cockblock, ruining his fun before he could do anything else, so poor Ray had to settle for a mere peck. He was getting more and more frustrated every minute...

"Stranger approaching."

"Okay, that's them," he told the kids, ignoring their scrunched-up expressions as he licked the saccharine remnants from his lips and separated from his beloved wife. It was showtime. 

"Now, remember! Whatever happens, we gotta be really mean to these new kids!"

"I don't know, doofus. I'm not very good at the whole mean thing. It makes me feel...mean," (y/n) said quietly, loosely rolling her shoulders as she followed her husband to the door, knowing Sharona Shapen and her bus station brats were behind it. It wasn't in her nature to be spiteful or a bully - God knows she knew what it was like to be on the receiving end, but Ray just gave her a reassuring smile and placed his hand on her shoulder. 

"S'okay, darlin'. I don't want you to lose any of that sweetness, so try your best, okay?" He advised her gently, squeezing her tense flesh with the other hand resting on the doorknob as she nodded weakly. Miles and Bose giggled at how he could switch so effortlessly, going from Mr. Grumpy Pants one second to a lovable teddy bear the next--and all over a girl. 

With one final check of their suit and the outlay of the room, the headmaster opened his doors, a tight yet beaming smile on his face. Instantly, he was greeted with Sharona's ugly, unimpressed mug, something he never wanted to see in the morning, but there were two kids in front of her two. And strangely...they didn't look like monsters. Or brats. Or like they'd be any trouble at all. 

Admittedly, they were filthy, covered in dirt after studying rough for the last month, but if they looked past the stink, they were lovely. The boy, slightly smaller than the other and wearing an old, battered jacket and flat cap, gasped when he saw the room, lopping his arm with the girl's as she, too, seemed in awe at their new school. 

She kept her unwashed hair out of her face with a white handkerchief, looking like a child from a Dickens novel in her ill-fitting green dress and moth-eaten brown jumper. Her boots needed resoling, and her mother - if she had one - needed to give her a good bath since her face was stained with dirt. Yet, despite their abysmal, pitiable condition, they seemed happy, perfectly polite, and grateful to a fault. 

*I'd like to state for the record that English people don't speak like this. we don't live in Oliver Twist, okay?*

"Why, Percy! It's our new school! I'm sure we will love it so!" The girl remarked with tears in her eyes, speaking in a flawlessly clear English accent. And not like she was some Cockney peasant, but like she was one of the landed gentry - eloquent and refined in every syllable. 

"Oh, we shall, Miriam!" The boy, Percy, agreed, giving her a cheeky smile as they admired the sparkling facilities--a remarkable improvement on their old classroom. 

"We shall finally be happy here in our new school!"

"And it smells ever so much better than the bus station!" Miriam remarked as Ray and (y/n) stared at them, wondering where the brats were supposed to be because these were angles. Perfect, little British angels with their excellent manners and elegance. 

"That's because there's a bathroom here, sweetie," Miss Shapen told them, tearing delighted gasps from the children since they weren't used to such luxuries. Life hadn't been kind to them, not that anyone would guess, given their mildly irritating optimism. 

"Anyway, I gotta go. It's Hump Day, so there's free sushi at the gas station, and there's nothing like eating sushi in head to toe--Bucci!" Miss Shapen laughed at her little joke - the only person in the room to do so. She was a strange, strange woman, and luckily made her goodbyes quickly, leaving Ray and (y/n) with their new 'lil English crumpets. 

"Deuces!"

"Uh, hello, we're your new teachers. I'm (y/n), and this is my husband, Ray--" The heroine turned to the keen children with a watery smile, slightly discomforted by their unexpected politeness. She and her doofus were so used to the abrasiveness of Chapa's tongue or Miles' sassy remarks that to be respected was weird. And the Brits didn't stop there. 

"But you can't be our instructors! You're far too young and handsome!" Percy said warmly, looking at a blushing Ray as the man buttoned his lip and smirked at the compliment. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't hate anyone who stroked his ego, making him awkwardly look at (y/n) as she giggled awkwardly. 

"And this fine young lady is your spouse? Good heavens, you are the luckiest man in the world, good sir!" His attention turned to her, eyes twinkling with good intentions from under that flat cap, and the woman couldn't help but clench Ray's arm. 

His head was in danger of exploding, growing bigger with every praise because hell yeah, he knew he'd married the best girl in the world, and knowing that he had the honour of being her husband made him preen like a peacock. Even if they were annoyingly kind and courteous, they were nothing like he'd expected - twice as nice as the brats he had to teach. 

"And your generous spirits are as clear as the kindness in your eyes..." Miriam sighed, getting a little too kiss-assy, but she meant well. Perhaps a little too well, and given their unrelenting goodwill, (y/n) knew she'd never find it in herself to be mean. 

"Oh, uh...thank you! Would you please excuse us for one minute?" She said with a breathy laugh, dragging her doofus by the arm toward the kids and the door. The newcomers didn't mind, talking with pleasant smiles as they ushered Mika, Miles, and Bose into the closet, leaving Schwoz alone since they knew they needed an urgent change of plans. 

However, once they were inside, it was like a scene from Saw - providing some haunting noises for the children waiting patiently outside. Ray, his sweet girl, and the kids screamed in terror as a masked figure jumped out at them, ripping a chainsaw to life as it threatened to chop them to pieces. 

The hero instantly shielded his wife, fists clenched and ready to pummel the mystery slasher for trying to hurt her, but on closer inspection, they were a little short for a bloodthirsty killer. It was Chapa - of course, it was - who'd been waiting for the opportune moment to frighten the shit out of the new students, should they walk in. Only, she ended up giving (y/n) a heart attack and all her friends nightmares. 

"Sorry, I thought you were those gunchy new kids," she apologised, removing her faceless mask and putting the chainsaw down before she could slice anyone. Ray's arms loosened around (y/n)'s body, who dared to peek out from his chest when she realised the end hadn't come, although it was still nice to snuggle against his toned torso. 

"Turns out they're not gunchy at all! They're sweet as--my sweet girl!" Ray exclaimed, petting his wife's precious head as she smiled, shy from the compliment. She'd never claim to be as charming as those hard-done English kids, but she knew he'd argue otherwise, so she stayed silent. 

"I don't know if I can soup ghost them!" Bose pouted, knowing he'd been given a job, but like (y/n), being a bully wasn't in his nature. He was just unassuming, nice-guy Bose. 

"Their last school didn't have a bathroom..."

"If you could even call it a school. I don't think they've had comfortable lives at all," (y/n) noted as Miles frowned, a million questions racing through his mind about how bad their old school must've been. It only made them feel sorry for Miriam and Percy, and indeed, if anyone didn't deserve such terror, it was those sweet peas. 

"They've been through so much. Plus, Percy winked at me, and it melted my heart!" Mika sighed softly, and Ray nodded. He knew how that felt, utterly bewitched by the children and their kind hearts, which was saying something since he wasn't overly fond of children and their tendency to sublet in his home. 

"And Miriam complimented me and my sweet girl!"

"Seriously, I mean...no bathroom! Where have they been goin'?!" Miles pondered, eyebrows trenched in deep thought, although he didn't want to think about the alternatives to having no toilet. He couldn't imagine the squalid conditions they were forced to learn in, and suddenly, he and the others felt a little more grateful for their pristine classroom and facilities, nodding appreciatively. Well, save for Chapa...

"Hey!" She hissed, trying to get them to remember their objective. 

"I mean, I am very young-looking, and my wife is incredibly hot, so the compliments make sense, but--"

"HEY!" She snapped again, but this time, she chose violence. What was new? (y/n) cringed and shrank away in fear as the girl slapped her teacher brutally hard, silencing his pathetic, conceited ramblings about Miriam's apparent compliments. Ray's face was a picture of agony, all scrunched up and red as he clutched his battered face, glad he was indestructible since the kid had a lot of rage in that striped shirt of hers. 

And she didn't stop there. Chapa backhanded him several times, slapping the hero silly to ensure he was listening. She knew what he was like when he started thinking about his pretty little wife and how he'd never stop daydreaming if someone didn't intervene. His skin stung from the vicious assault, dazing Ray until he gathered his thoughts enough to push her away, wondering what he did to deserve such punishment. 

"Ow! Stop slapping me! I'm listening!" He whined, scurrying away into the safety of his wife's arms, where (y/n) cooed and soothingly ran the back of her fingers down his warm flesh. A kiss on the cheek and the pain fleeted, leaving his face rosy and flushed for another reason. 

"We are crime fighters! We can't have a couple a' bus station biscuits sniffin' around here, or we can't respond to emergency calls!" Chapa told everyone sharply, her glare so fierce that even the couple shrank under it, pausing their affection - for now. 

"That's true, I guess..." (y/n) shrugged, knowing she was right. Percy and Miriam were lovely, but it would be difficult to explain why they all had to head out so abruptly and often; it would undoubtedly lead to exposure, something they couldn't risk. 

"I don't care how many fake compliments they give us," the fiery girl continued, eying the man beside her, who gasped and clutched at his breastbone at such an insinuation - he didn't care what anyone said; his wife was hot. 

"How dare you..."

"Or how many fake winks we get!" She hissed, looking at Mika this time, who whimpered at the thought of her wink, eying for show. She knew Percy wasn't like that--that Chapa was just being her usual, callous self, but deep down, she couldn't argue. 

"They were real!"

"She's so mean..." Ray grumbled, forgetting who he was talking about and that she was beside him. Chapa raised her hand at him aggressively, threatening him with another round of happy slaps before (y/n) intervened, flashing everyone her cheery, disarming smile. Maybe what the English kids said about her was true, but all that other stuff...

"Hey, don't you hit my doofus," she warned the girl, prodding her pal until Chapa relented. She'd let the guy off the hook...for now, allowing (y/n) to continue as her husband patted her hip in thanks. 

"Okay, so Mika and I have a non-violent plan that only includes a little paperwork. Easy-peasy, squeeze the lemon, so--"

"AYYYYE!" A strange voice came from above, interrupting the woman as she shrieked and ducked out of the way. She sought shelter in Ray's embrace, gasping as a figure hit the floor and stared at them all with big, round eyes, whitish skin, an alien-like head--oh, it was just Schwoz.

The stupid little coconut-head was hiding in the rafters like a goddamn bat, listening to the conversation since he had some critical news--although he couldn't just use the door like ordinary people. As they all recovered from their mini-heart attacks, he shook off the landing, surprisingly agile for a cooped-up nerd. 

"We've already missed three emergency calls since those kids got here!" The genius announced, skipping the pleasantries and baffled questions as to where he'd dropped from. The bleak news pulled groans from everyone, knowing that once the emergencies piled up, it was almost impossible to fix them without some serious work. 

"See? Swellview needs us! So, get out there, be mean to those new kids, and send them back to the bus station! Who's with me?" Chapa growled, having little sympathy for the brats when they'd already caused so much trouble. And her friends agreed, feeling terrible for what they had to do, but it was necessary. 

Yet no one, except for Schwoz, put their hand up, anxious to do wrong to do right, so the girl got a little creative. One warning of her palm in the air, and they jumped to it, agreeing keenly since no one wanted a beating like Ray's, seeing how it seared his skin and sprung tears in his eyes. 

"Did they use a bucket?" Miles murmured, still hung up on the bus station toilet debacle. Still, his sister pulled him out of the room before anyone could answer. 

Miriam and Percy were beginning to get lonely and confused, wondering where everyone went, so they filed out, leaving the happy couple with Chapa as Ray glared at her. His face still ached, tender and scarlet from her angry fists. For someone who was used to being the boss, she didn't relish his authority very much, but they'd soon see about that--

"Hey, listen. I let those slaps go last time, but next time--Ahhh!" The hero tried to confront her, but she was having none of it. Before he could give her the scolding she deserved, her wrist flicked out again, striking his cheek painfully and drying up his words. 

"Chapa!" (y/n) warned sharply as her lover gritted his teeth and tried not to show weakness. If only she was that good with criminals, he'd be out of a job...

However, she didn't seem apologetic or remorseful, wearing her typical glare, even as her favoured teacher gave her a stern look. Whilst she respected Miss Danger more than Captain Man, she still hated being dictated to, and Chapa turned on her heel before they could have a chance to punish her. What were they gonna do? Send her back to regular school where her powers could be exposed? Yeah, right...

"I'll see you guys out there..." And with that, she stomped away, taking her mask and chainsaw with her and leaving the spouses alone. She was ready to wreak havoc, slipping back into the classroom without much fuss, and even though time was of the essence, the couple couldn't help but relish the brief glimpse of peace. 

*Spicy from here. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.*

Realising they were alone - or as alone they could be in a school full of rioting children - they fell together, (y/n)'s hand on his cheek to soothe Chapa's assault. The kids were merely behind the brick wall, chattering away amongst themselves as the hero gripped his wife's waist and pulled her close, feeling like melting into her embrace and saying to hell with the world. 

He nosed her hair, sighing deeply as she stroked his warm skin, tittering how she could sense the sting underneath her palm. But honestly, Ray could barely feel it, leaving the mild injury to his indestructibility to deal with since he had everything he needed in his arms, drained from the last few days of constant disarray and relentless voices clamouring for their attention. 

Although they hadn't been teaching very long - three weeks max - the couple quickly learned the price of solitude, learning that the essence of silence was golden. 

No screams, no arguments, no insults or snappy comebacks. Just holding each other and appreciating the stillness - a moment of grounding for the both of them. 

"This is nice..." Ray muttered, pressing his lips to her neck as she exhaled - a long, heavy breath carrying the world's weight. He knew she was stressed, seeing how her shoulders slumped and her head fell forward, knocking his shoulder as he curled his arms around her delicate figure. Like a leaf shaking in the wind. 

"We're hugging in a broom cupboard with a class full of children who want to kill each other," (y/n) replied dryly, voice muffled in his jacket's lapel. Still, despite her monotone response, she didn't let go, clutching at his body and nuzzling into his chest, secretly loving how he'd dabbed a little cologne on his cravat before haphazardly tying and stuffing it down his shirt. 

She couldn't help but feel sarcastic and snappy, tired from days of constant pressure and problems. Her clothes were too stuffy and restrictive, her toes longing to wriggle free from her heels, but they had to soldier on to save the school. A miserable, lamentable thought. 

"You want me to stop?" Ray hummed, but he didn't let go. Never. He knew her answer, stroking her hair as she whined and snuggled closer. 

"No..." she sounded pathetic, arms loosely curled around his torso as he chuckled. 

"I can hear you worrying..." the man whispered, beginning to sway slightly when a deafening shriek vibrated through the brickwork. It sounded girlish and shrill - possibly Mika or Miriam - and was almost certainly the work of Chapa and her creepy Halloween mask. 

They ignored it, pretending there was cotton wool in their ears whilst the bedlam reigned next door, anything for a second longer to themselves. Ray's lips found her cheek and temple, lips chirping like songbirds as he smooched against her skin, the ticklish sensation making (y/n)'s nose wrinkle and mouth twitch upwards. 

"I wouldn't say it's worrying...more stewing."

"So, Bose is obsessed with soup, and you like stew?" He was a doofus, making his wife roll her eyes and limply thwack his shoulder. Yet a smile was growing on her face because it was such a Ray thing to say. It was stupid, and his voice held that forever confused lilt like everything was a puzzle to him, but it was cute and endearing. She pulled her head up to look at him like he was adorable, not stupid.

"No, silly doofus..." (y/n) giggled, pecking his lips briefly when he smiled proudly, simply because he made her happy. 

"I'm just...we've barely spent any time together this week."

"Sure, we have. We're together all the time." Ray frowned, knowing he'd be fuming if he'd been denied his sweet girl all week. They'd eaten together, slept next to each other, woken up to each other, shared breakfast, co-taught classes, sorted through the bills--just done the usual married couple stuff. 

It was tedious and stressful, balancing work and home life in one building, but they were okay - together like always. 

"With children around us. Screaming. Fighting. Telling us we're wrong while they know everything." (y/n), however, begged to differ. She wasn't stupid, but perhaps just a little paranoid. 

This was the road to a loveless marriage, all work and no play, which terrified her. Her fingers squeezed his shoulders, deeply worried at the thought of drifting apart, and it had only been a handful of days of little affection. Of course, the kids meant well, but they were the anti-romantics. They had to find secret clinches in cupboards when the Man Cave was their territory--their place to rendezvous. 

"I just want one evening where it's me and you, no interruptions, just...us stuff."

"Okay, then, how about we watch a movie tonight? Rom-com? You pick?" Ray suggested softly, hands sliding down to grip her waist, thumbs rubbing above her hipbones. She laughed breathily, glancing at her feet before finding those blue eyes again, spinning a lock of his hair around her finger - she was hunting. 

"I was thinking something else..." she countered, sounding sultry and soft like butter.

"Okay, how about I run you a bubble bath? I'll use the fancy soap..." The hero countered, the invitation flying over his head and into the wall, making his wife's eyebrows twitch. Pursing her lips, she tried again, eager to have him to herself, although she didn't usually have to work for it. 

"Maybe something we could do together?" She proposed, tongue darting out to moisten her lips, tummy fluttering when his eyes watched the motion. 

The pinkish glimpse of her inner bottom lip teased him as she whined and draped her arms around his neck, chest pressed against his so he could feel her lace undergarment poking through. 

"How about Twister? We haven't played it since Henry fell on top of Charlotte, and they almost--" But, for one so smooth when in action, Ray was dense--like the plank of wood they carved his brain out of. 

(y/n) groaned at his innocent stare, desperately wishing she'd see two blackened eyes hungrily gazing back. She knew why she felt so run down now, flipping through the calendar in her brain to mark the last time she got dicked down. It had been days ago, practically a lifetime, for someone with an incubus at her fingertips, and it frustrated her. 

Just an hour was all it would take, but that was few and far between when her husband thought more of bubble baths and board games than a night between the sheets. He withered at her displeasure, wondering where he went wrong, but (y/n) supposed she'd have to spell it out for him. 

"Sex, Raymond. I want to have sex!" She exclaimed, holding his pink cheeks and boring into his eyes as his lips parted in surprise. Typically, he was the forward one, plodding in like an elephant when he craved her pleasure. But this made him think, cogs ticking for a moment before he raised an eyebrow--as confused and doofy as always. 

"...With me?"

"No, I was thinking with some other floppy-haired doofus who wears cute t-shirts," his sweet girl retorted dryly, rolling her eyes because that was the first thing he said. Rizzmaster Ray was back, the smoothest operator in Swellview. 

"Of course, I meant you."

"Oh!... You think I'm cute?" He grinned cheekily, practically buzzing with enamouring, boyish charm as he basked in her love. It made him feel special, every moment like the first when he realised that she wanted to do grown-up things...with him! He still got butterflies, and they blocked out the arguing in the next room as they giggled. 

"I think you're adorable, but that's beside the point," (y/n) noted, casting her mind back to when he had her in their bed, waking her up the right way. "Y'know, we were a little rushed the other day..."

"Don't even get me started..." Ray groaned, closing his eyes and seeing her gorgeous body painted on his eyelids. Her thighs muffling his world, eyes closed, mouth open, her body in the morning light - he'd never been more thankful for windows, wondering what he'd missed in their old home's artificial glare. 

"And you didn't even get a chance to fuck me...You know I was walking funny for an hour after. Made me cum so hard, Captain..." Her mouth was hot against his ear, dipping low - barely above a whisper - and gentle as her fingers ran down his throat and chest, igniting fire where they touched. It was like a secret between them, navels pushed together as he inhaled sharply, one hand resting on her ass warningly. 

"Tell me why I shouldn't get you on your knees right now..." he growled, kneading whatever flesh he could reach as her lips ghosted his, barely brushing together. He didn't care if time was precious; so was she, and she could handle the problem she caused. 

"You could..." the woman hummed, fingertips dangerously dancing down the line of buttons on his shirt, passing his belly button. 

"Think you deserve a little attention. I could just drop right now and suck you off. Wrap my lips around your cock until you're cumming down my throat--wouldn't take long. Know why?"

"Fuck---why?" Ray asked thickly, choking when she cupped him through his suit pants, grinning like a vixen when she felt his turgid length. She wasn't the only one feeling a little...pent-up after missing her body the past few days. 

"'Cause you haven't taken your eyes off my ass in this skirt once. Don't think I haven't seen you drooling over it..." she teased, gently stroking against his length, smirking when he grew beneath her touch until he strained against the stiff, navy material. 

"Makes me so fucking hard..." He didn't need to confess; she knew it--saw it in the way he tilted his head back and spoke in feeble groans, swallowing with a dry mouth as she ran kisses down his neck. They stumbled around the room, bumping into the old chalkboard until a suspicious, ass-shaped smudge ran across it, not that they cared. 

Ray was desperate to find a surface--any surface where he could bend her over and take his fill. Pots clattered on the floor as they jostled, more taken with wandering hands and rough kisses than watching where they were going. Yet he couldn't find purchase and settled for holding her figure against his, debating if the floor would be any good as she squeezed his outline. 

"Wanna suck your cock so bad, doofus." She purred, throaty and wet, as he gasped, sweat dappling on his brow from the desperation. Three days was too long when he was so used to having her daily. 

"Get on your knees, then."

"Of course, Captain--tonight," (y/n) promised, smirking wickedly as she wrenched her hands away and stepped back, fighting the urge to do as he said. Submitting would be too easy, and she still hadn't forgotten how he'd left her legless and delirious that morning, boasting about his new record. 

This was his just reward, standing there with an obvious tenting in his riding trousers, even though it felt like punishment for her, too. An ache settled between her thighs, calling for her husband to do his husbandly duties. Still, she refrained, glancing at her elegant watch and baulking at the time. Goodness! The children! The scandal!

"What?--Sweet girl, w-what? Come back!" Ray yelped, feeling like he could collapse. His eyes almost fell out of his head when the electricity between them vanished - burning passion turning frigid as she backed off. 

He stared after her, lightheaded and dazed as his cock throbbed, but she made no move to seduce him any further. He hoped, begged, and prayed that she was stripping that blouse and skirt off, but she merely straightened the wrinkled suit, smoothing the arms and patting down her ruffled hair before turning on her heel. And it was like a punch to the butterflies in his gut. 

It was like nothing had happened at all, his wife looking like the respectable lady she always was as she glanced at the door to the classroom. Her eyes settled on his rapidly rising and falling chest before drifting to the apex of his thighs, and he swore she licked her lips, but it must've been a mind trick. After all, he stood in shambles as she grinned wickedly, proud of the mess she'd made. 

"We have a class to teach, Raymond. The children are expecting us, so I'll see you out there," (y/n) told him curtly as she rested a hand on the doorknob, knowing he'd need a second to sort himself out. Perhaps it was a little evil, and her lusting heart cursed her for ruining its fun before it started, but she promised it would be worth it. 

Tonight, when they fell into bed with all their worries over, he'd pin her down and... That would be worth the wait. 

"Wha--hey! (y/n)! Fuck!" Although she could've told him that. Ray cursed and nearly tripped over his feet as he watched his wife slink out of the room, surrounding herself with children to ensure he couldn't hunt her down and bend her over a desk. 

It was the world's best defence, yet he found himself defenceless, knowing it would look suspicious if she began teaching without him. He had a few minutes at most, staring longingly at the door she disappeared through and feeling her lips on his again. 

Tonight can't come soon enough, Ray thought, sliding down the wall with a hand pressed against his forehead. He wouldn't find release now; even though he wanted to, he'd wait for the opportune moment, turning his thoughts elsewhere, banishing those of his precious wife next door, flaunting herself in that skirt. 

That goddamn skirt. 

Out in the classroom, the kids bickered amongst themselves but were thankfully sat at their desks as (y/n) sauntered in. 

There was a cocky swing to her hips, a spring in her step, and a bright smile as she faced her pupils, although four were slightly confused at Ray's disappearance. Percy and Miriam sat on the rickety, old health hazards Bose had found, the boy in the wheelchair and the girl on the termite stool. They looked uncomfortable but didn't show it, beaming back pleasantly, eager to learn as the heroine thought about what they could do. 

The plan was to make them want to leave - the thought alone was enough to make her tummy feel queasy - and whilst (y/n) didn't like the idea of being mean, she didn't let it show, except for rubbing her sweaty palms. 

"Where's Ray?" Mika asked, blinking innocently as her teacher paused beside her desk, pursing her lips and thinking rapidly. She froze, stuttering as Danger Force looked at her strangely - some more clued in than others. 

"Um...he's tying his shoelaces," the woman replied dumbly, but it was all she could think of on her feet. The newcomers seemed to buy it, bobbing and nodding gently as they tried to get comfy on their chairs. Chapa didn't believe it, still looking creepy in her Halloween mask. 

"He was wearing boots..." she remarked dryly, and her friends followed suit. As confident as that skirt suit made her, she was acting weird. Miles craned his head around her body to try and peek into the cupboard, wondering where the hero had disappeared. But (y/n) wouldn't let him, jumping into his view before he could spot anything, chuckling nervously as she looked for a distraction. 

"Boots can have laces..." she said anxiously before spotting a mini whiteboard tucked into a corner. A small smile spread across her cheeks as she pulled it out in the middle of the room, gesturing for the kids to nudge their desks around to face it. 

"No, they don't."

"Where's Teacher?" Miriam asked sweetly, peering up at the lovely lady with her round, hazel eyes, making her stumble a little. How could one lie to a face like that? But (y/n) had to try, gulping the lump in her throat as Mika followed her every move, sensing that Ray was...up to something. 

"Uh, he's coming. A problem...came up."

"A problem?" Bose asked, eyelashes fluttering as his desk span around, forming a neat little circle with the others as the woman set up everything in the centre for her and Ray to teach. 

She adjusted the board, found some dry-erase markers, and dragged one of her husband's beloved bouncy ball chairs for him to bounce on. The day's lesson was supposed to be math, not her doofus' strongest subject, but she loved it, practically buzzing at the thought of numbers and such. Scribbling the word on the board, she hoped he wouldn't be too long, knowing she wasn't good at this lying thing. 

"Yeah, I guess..."

"Is it a big problem, Miss?" Percy inquired, worried that his instructor was having difficulties. If anything was wrong, he'd be the first to volunteer, although his frown deepened when Mrs Manchester snorted and coughed, a wobbly smile struggling to stay off her face. What was wrong with her now?

"You could say that..." (y/n) giggled to herself quietly, picturing her grumpy lover and his problem. She had no idea how he was dealing with it, but her tummy fluttered at what her brain conjured up. While she was squealing like a schoolgirl, the kids exchanged some bored and mildly disgusted glances, putting two and two together and then stopping. They didn't dare imagine what she was grinning about. 

"Do we even want to know?"

"No--it's nothing. We--I mean, he--I mean...nothing. Oh look, it's Professor Manchester, everybody," the heroine stammered before catching a glimpse of her husband. He strolled out of the cupboard like nothing was wrong, crossing his jacket across his chest and clearing his throat - nothing out of the ordinary, save for his dark eyes. 

They landed on his sweet girl, or so he deemed her, shooting her a knowing look as he approached to give her a chaste kiss and fleeting embrace, ready to educate. His hands squeezed her hips as he greeted the children, pretending nothing was wrong when they chatted and squirmed in their seats excitedly. 

"The minute we're alone, sweet girl..." he whispered hotly, mouth beside her ear so the kids couldn't hear him. A shiver ran through her body as she looked up at him and nodded weakly, pupils dilating and heart racing. 

"Okay, everybody, settle down. It's learning time..." (y/n) called to the kids, clapping her hands to mask how she fanned her warm cheeks. That man would be the death of her, never once straying from behind her as she beamed at the group. Together again, she lit up the room with her doofus, knowing he'd probably had to coach himself into calming down - dull thoughts of taxes, golf, and politicians. 

"Right, you are, pretty girl," Ray sighed, still all soft and gooey-eyed for his wife, even if she liked to tease him in closets like that.

"Now, children, what is math? Can you touch it? Can you hold it in your hand? If you shake it, would it rattle?"

"I don't think I've ever shaken math, doofus," his wife retorted with a bemused smile, lightly gripping his arm. He was adorable, pretending like he knew anything about the subject as she felt his biceps. Luckily, the kids followed anything he said, ignoring the lesson yet eager to trick Percy and Miriam into leaving, even if they were ever so lovely. 

"Over the next forty-five minutes, we're gonna find out together the answer to all these questions and more... And I think, along the way, we're gonna have a little bit of fun," the man told the children dreamily, booping his darling wife's nose, making her wrinkle it like a bunny. 

Meanwhile, as he talked nonsense, Chapa sneakily reached across to the keenly listening Brits, handing her hands behind the desk as she lightly zapped both with a small burst of lightning. Percy and Miriam jumped, freezing in their painful seats as all their hairs stood on end, shocked by what had just mysteriously happened. 

"Ahh!"

"Good heavens! My termite bench just gave me quite a shock!" Miriam gasped, her brother too stunned to speak for a minute. 

"Bet it hurt, right?" Chapa questioned darkly, peering at the polite children behind her creepy, babyish mask. But they didn't appear too troubled, annoyingly refusing to stand up from the infested wood since that would be terribly rude and discourteous to their generous hosts. 

"Indeed, it did," Percy nodded, only for his ginger sister to stop him, a gentle look coming over her. 

"But you know, Percy, that brief pain made me grateful for all the time I'm not in pain!" She sighed, practically angelic in everything she did and said, as her fellow students smacked their foreheads and internally groaned. What kind of kid thought like that? She had to be hiding a saint under that headscarf, fluttering her eyelashes innocently as her rosy, freckled cheeks twitched into a smile - almost heaven-sent. 

"Quite so! It seems like the lessons at this school go beyond what can be learned from books alone."

"What?" (y/n) murmured dryly, quirking an eyebrow at the boy and his Gospel-like ridiculous words. She placed her hands on Ray's shoulders as he plopped onto the bouncy chair, leaning his arms on the backrest while he, too, gave the orphans a bored glance. She almost felt bad for them, wondering what they'd endured to be grateful for the absence of pain. Still, Percy was just annoying - kissing ass with his smarmy ideas. 

"May I also say I love your festive mask!" Miriam told Chapa kindly, the disguise's creepiness barely affecting her as she beamed like sunshine. It was sickening to the cold, callous girl, who growled as they tried another trick. 

"Yeah, I love yours, too..." She sassed, much to the English girl's confusion, but she quickly saw what Bose was trying to do, spotting a pencil high above their heads. Something more menacing would've been better, but the boy could barely lift the graphite, so she laid the acting on thick.

"Look! A floating pencil!"

"Oh no, this place is haunted!..." Ray remarked tiredly, barely using a tenth of Chapa's excitement since he was too entranced by his wife's light massage, her fingers expertly kneading the knots in his shoulders. He needed it more than he realised, practically purring putty in her hands as Percy and Miriam gawped at the hovering pencil, wondering which spirit was haunting them. And surprisingly, they were superstitious, buying the deception without a doubt, more like a reverent trust. 

"Souuuuup!" Bose groaned quietly, hoping the new students didn't notice his twitching hands or ghostly noises. Still, thankfully, they were too bewitched to notice or care. To them, this was a sign from the dead, and who were they to ignore such a command?

"Spirits? Can you hear us? Tell Princess Diana that our country misses her so!" Miriam begged the floating pencil, sounding utterly ridiculous but sweet with her innocence. 

"Seriously? Lady Diana?" (y/n) scoffed, her hands settling on Ray's shoulders at the sight of--was that tears in their eyes? She didn't know why they'd want to cry over a woman dead for nearly thirty or why such a royal lady would haunt a pencil. Still, no one could tell them anything - a painful view for her and Mika, the Smarties. 

"And we hope she's having all the soup her heart desires!" That was the final straw. Bose released the pencil with a huff, slumping in his seat like Chapa when Percy faced the soup ghost head-on rather than fleeing, obviously not frightened. It was frustrating, yet...

"I'm sorry. I can't get over this..." Miles spoke before turning to the kids as if he couldn't cope with their relentless good manners. "When you were at the bus station, where did you go to the bathroom?!"

"Seriously? That's the bit you're still focusing on?" Miss Danger asked him flatly, fingertips dancing around Ray's freshly shaven throat and jaw. The boy couldn't let it go, pleading with a baffled Miriam and Percy to tell him where they...went, even though it was obvious. 

And amongst the termite stool, soup ghost, and Diana, Princess of Goddamn Wales, he still wanted to know which was Ray's last straw. 

"All right, that's it! Test of strength!" He declared, abruptly standing from his bouncy chair, despite how it felt to be under his wife's touch. The longer he sat and listened to them spouting their accented gibberish, the longer he had to wait until he could throw her on their mattress, so he took action, stomping over to the high striker. 

Bose helped Mika push her desk out of the way, creating more room for whichever unfortunate soul the headmaster chose to use his contraption. (y/n) closely behind, standing in front of a highly bored Schwoz and wondering what her lover had planned - whatever it was, it wouldn't be good. 

"You, Benedict Cumberbutt! Get up here!" He ordered Percy curtly, but the short boy didn't grumble like any polite person. He rose from the antique wheelchair and quickly hobbled over to his teacher, ready and willing to do whatever was instructed. 

"Take this hammer. Hit that, and try to get Professor Schwoz to ring the bell."

"Hello!" Schwoz waved at the puzzled children, who'd seen many strange things in their brief yet tumultuous lives, but the fuzzy little weirdo had to be one of the most peculiar. Still, Percy didn't argue, taking an old, woodworm-riddled hammer from Ray, which he had to use all his might to lift high above his head. 

"I shall try my level my best!"

"Um, doofus, are you sure this is safe? Will it even make them leave?" (y/n) hissed worriedly as he urged her to move back, ensuring he was in front of her for when the boy whacked the target. She glanced at how Percy strained to raise the hammer, looking like he was about to topple over, and she didn't want to know what would happen to Schwoz, aware of Ray's favourite tricks. 

Yet he gathered her in his arms once she and the other kids were far enough away, kissing her gently as he enjoyed her body against his. Perhaps it was a little mean, but he was sure it would drive them out, and Schwoz would survive. Probably. 

"See the head on that hammer?" He whispered in her ear before pecking the inch of skin below it. 

"I swapped it out with a Bolivian Boom Stone."

"Please, tell me you didn't..." (y/n) sighed, hiding behind her hands, although she couldn't help but peek through her fingers as her husband giggled impishly into her neck. No wonder he looked so excited, nearly trembling as he squeezed her waist and smooched her throat before eyeing Percy, who was ready to hit the target. 

"Shhhh! Here we go!" He squealed, curling around her protectively as the clueless children watched closely. 

"For the Princess!" Percy cried, hitching the hammer over his shoulder before he slammed it down with a mighty swing. The second it hit the high striker, the head exploded in a powerful, blue fireball, sending sparks, smoke, and dust through the air - him, too. The poor kid was blasted through the roof, coming down and landing on the cold, hard floor with a dull thud as Miriam gasped in horror. 

(y/n) doubted that Lady Di would be impressed with that performance. 

"My brother!" The young girl shrieked, running over to Percy's side with a wretched expression. 

"My knitting!" Schwoz whimpered, too, although he wasn't cooked like the boy was - just a little smoky. Percy was toast, though, lying on the tiles, moaning and groaning, covered in soot. He was dazed and confused, swearing he couldn't see, think, or hear correctly, yet he clambered to his feet, hunched over a desk for support as his sister tittered and fussed. 

They had no idea what had happened, but they always grinned and bore the pain with good humour and a sweet smile. 

"It's okay! I've always wanted to fly!" He exclaimed happily, a slight groan in his voice, but he was irritatingly resilient, making the Danger Force team groan and curse the day he was born. Even if Miriam was delighted that he was okay, they were devastated, barely holding back their grumbles since nothing they did could make them leave. 

The school day was nearly over, and they'd have to try again tomorrow, but not before dealing with the dozens of emergencies that came through while entertaining Little Miss Muffet and her brother. Ray's wishes for a quiet moment wouldn't come true so soon...

~Early the following day ~

In all her days as a superhero, (y/n) had never experienced such a rough night. 

Percy and Miriam didn't budge from their respective stool or chairs. They listened intently to whatever the Danger Force team threw their way until the final bell rang to signal school was out. Walking out the doors with bright smiles and cheery waves, they promised to return tomorrow, which Ray couldn't wait for, especially since he had to go into the city to fight crime. 

His special night turned into a disaster when they saw the mountain of emergency calls on the supercomputer, waiting for whichever hero to respond. There were dozens of voicemails, more than he'd ever left hanging. He had no choice but to apologise to his precious wife before sending her and the kids on missions. 

Intimacy was forgotten, and so was that moment alone, and whilst (y/n) didn't complain, taking Chapa to go and save a hippie in a tree, she was disappointed. And that made him mad, meaning that by the time the sun crept over the hills, he was beyond pissed - borderline insane. 

An agonising twelve hours later, the crew trudged into the Man's Nest, where Schwoz had napped, waiting for their return. It was nice that someone could sleep - poor Mika could barely keep her eyes open as she arrived in the tubes, every inch of her body hurting. 

"Kill me. Kill me now..." (y/n) grumbled as they hobbled down the steps, barely functioning after back-to-back missions and zero sleep. She tried to power-nap during the brief intermissions between rescues but never switched off, so she cried out for her bed, even if it wasn't how she and Ray had hoped. 

The kids grunted in agreement as they shuffled onto the floor, their Captain clumsily following behind them with his eyes barely open. He'd been uncharacteristically silent during the trip back, slumping on his wife's shoulder as she navigated the route home. Still, everyone was too tired to notice his maddened ramblings and bizarre behaviour. 

"I'm so tired..." Mika groaned before yawning, so sleepy that she accidentally activated her super-scream. A small shockwave rumbled through the air, hitting Schwoz where he napped - upside from a pole across the ceiling, looking like a goddamn bat. It couldn't be comfortable, sleeping with all the blood rushing to his brain, but it was just another weird Schwoz habit, even if no one could get used to it. 

"Sorry..." She told him tiredly when he hit the floor with a squeak, wondering what had hit him as he scrambled to his feet, clad in thick, navy blue plaid pyjamas. 

But it wasn't entirely her fault; even Miles was affected, stretching as he yawned, and when he raised his arm, he accidentally teleported, spooking his sister when he appeared beside her in a flash of light and slumped on the couch. 

"Where have you beens all night?" Schwoz asked, having fallen asleep waiting for them, and it hadn't been a restful period. 

"Fighting crime..." Bose replied, and if any of them felt any better, they would've been ecstatic to tell the genius all about it. The adults couldn't do it single-handedly, so for once, Ray and (y/n) relented, allowing them to deal with minor emergencies. At the same time, they took the big stuff like robberies, villains, and murders, which really affected the guy. 

Ray muttered gibberish as he mushed his face into his sweet girl's shoulder and collapsed over the couch, scrubbing his gloved hand over his face. (y/n) absentmindedly petted his ruffled hair, head jerking when she nearly nodded off, standing up. Yet she refused to fall asleep when everyone else still worked, no matter if she was a walking vegetable. 

"We had to take care of all the emergencies we missed during the day when Percy and Miriam were here," Chapa explained, ignoring how weird her mentor was acting, assuming that he was just snuggling with (y/n/n) like he always did--and they'd all learned to look over that. 

"Well, ten more emergencies came in while you were gone," Schwoz revealed, much to their horror. It was only a tiny amount, but they had nothing to give, feeling ready to collapse since it took the rest of their energy reserves to keep talking. 

But, while they all groaned, something weird happened. Ray flinched upward, standing oddly straight as he growled at no one as if he were having an argument with thin air. His lips moved, but no words came out; it sounded like a conversation as he clumsily pawed at his wife before bumbling across the room toward the front door. 

"What's wrong with Ray?" Bose asked, wondering where the hero was going in such a hurry when he'd worked himself half to death. 

"Oh no..." Schwoz gulped worriedly, staring after the man as he grumpily pushed through the glass doors, seemingly looking for something. 

He glanced at (y/n), who'd not even noticed his disappearance as she bent over at a ninety-degree angle onto the couch, dozing with her arms resting on the squishy backrest. She just wanted to close her eyes for a second, humming contently as sleep crept into her mushy mess of a brain.

"Is that a good oh no?"

"Oh, no, no! It's a bad one! (y/n/n), did you not put Ray down for a nap last night?" The small man panicked as he dashed over to the woman's side, poking her in the ribs to try and keep her awake. 

She grumbled throatily, swatting at his hand as she tried to resume her mini-nap; she deserved one. While he'd had a peaceful night, she'd been walking - in heels - for nine hours straight, had been puked on by a drunk man, choked by a wannabe supervillain, and had fought with a sumo wrestler over a turkey sandwich. She deserved that nap. 

But Schwoz wouldn't let up, grabbing her by the forearms and roughly shaking some consciousness into her because they had a different kind of emergency on their hands. Everyone assumed that Ray just liked getting his wife into bed, often seen dozing with her whenever they had a free moment, whether it be on the couch or in their room, but he needed that sleep. His superpower took a lot out of him, and bad things happened when he couldn't hold her in his arms...

"(y/n), wake up! Did you and Ray have a nap last night?!"

"Does it look like I had a nap last night? Now...Ray--Ray--Ray--Ray-Ray...My hubby, Ray..." She hummed, looking utterly stupid with that dopey grin, grumpy about not sleeping, but talking about her lover made her so silly, smiling like an idiot as she tried to think.

"Um...He likes sleeping. Sleeps on the right side of the bed. Doesn't like pyjamas. Uses..." she yawned loudly and abruptly, "peppermint toothpaste. Likes the room freezing cold 'cause he's this big...warm...doo--doofus."

"Yes, but did he have a nap?!" Schwoz asked exasperatedly, patting her cheek to try and make her focus. He didn't care if she knew his nighttime routine like the back of her hand, only that it was usually her job to ensure he got enough sleep. God knows that man would run around all day if no one was there to tempt him into the bedroom. 

"Um...no?" She offered awkwardly, suddenly feeling a little soberer as her skin stung, and a terrible realisation dawned on her. "Oh, shit... I completely forgot about his nap! We were just so busy, and he seemed fine... This is bad."

"Why?" Miles asked quietly, frowning when he watched the woman rake her shaky fingers through her tussled hair, eyes bloodshot and wide. She was panicking, hugging her body, when her bottom lip wobbled like she'd done something terrible. She looked guilty and scared as she craned toward the doors, hoping to spot her husband before he went berserk. 

"If Ray doesn't get enough sleep, he turns bad until he can sleep again! And believe me, he gets real grumpy if (y/n) isn't with him!" 

"Like a good bad?" Mika asked meekly, making Schwoz look at her dryly. They didn't understand how bad this was, going beyond a quick cuddle on the couch. His dark glare made the kids shrink back, sensing the girl was clutching at straws, hoping against hope that it was a happy sneer. 

"Remember Roy, who wanted to take candy from that handsome baby?" 

"I remember Roy..." Chapa remarked when Schwoz smirked and wiggled his eyebrows, smoothing his ego when they should've been worrying about Ray. He was poking around the front porch, digging through his wife's pretty flowerbeds like a dog searching for a buried bone. It made her glance at him worriedly when he growled some indecipherable curse. 

"Yeah, he was like Ray, but evil," Miles noted, knowing he'd never forget the man's weird performance, especially that moustache. But, despite how funny he was and primarily unthreatening, the idea of an evil Captain Man terrified the children because it wouldn't be make-believe. He'd try to hurt people and behave cruelly - the anti-doofus - making them shudder at the thought. 

"That's what happens to Ray if he doesn't get enough sleep," (y/n) sighed, holding her clammy cheeks as she shook her head sadly, scolding herself for not seeing the signs because she was merely exhausted. 

And, speaking of the devil, Ray burst through the door, stumbling down the steps like a drunkard, heading for the group with a vicious snarl. He said something, sounding like he was talking to Chapa. Still, no one could work out what he was saying, slurring his words until her name and laughing sounded like gibberish - either way, he looked furiously determined. 

"Schwoz! Do you still keep your flesh-eating bacteria in this old mayonnaise jar?" He asked through a yawn, knocking into his sweet girl as she stared at him in alarm, terrified that he even wanted to hold that much in his hand. It was one of the genius' more revolting experiments, and she didn't like to mess with it, having watched the lethal gunge strip melt the meat off a chicken drumstick in ten seconds flat. 

"No, doofus, don't touch that!" She ordered him, tentatively reaching out to take it off him before he did himself mischief, but Ray refused. He whined at her defiantly, sounding like a moody child as he pulled the jar out of her reach and unscrewed the lid. Everyone jumped back in terror when the bacteria breathed fresh air, quietly hissing and fizzing like they whispered for flesh, and no one fancied being its dinner. 

"Answered my own question. I'mma go throw it on those kids." Ray sniffed casually, spinning clumsily on his heel as if he was going to hunt down Percy and Miriam, wherever they lived, and coat them in that goop... 

As annoying as they were, no one deserved that, making his friends cringe and scream when he tried to walk away. 

"No, Roy--I mean, Ray, you shouldn't do that!" (y/n) told him, reaching out to catch his arm before he could stomp away. Luckily, the man couldn't ignore his precious girl, even in his drained state, turning around to meet her eye with a dumb expression. He looked rough, hair all unkempt and fluffy - so unlike his usual groomed mane - and his skin looked dull and blotchy, but he tried his best to focus on his wife when his heart pulled toward her. 

"Why not, darlin'?" He pouted, behaving only because she was watching. 

"Um...it might get on you, and I don't want to ruin this handsome face!" She laughed nervously, cupping his cheeks whilst edging away from the putrid jar, which she swore hissed at her. He sighed at her touch, head lolling forward like he could go to sleep right then and there, but he refused, shaking his body to snap out of it - although laying down with her for a little while didn't sound so bad. 

"I'm indestructible...and so tired!" He yawned, moving to kiss her forehead, but it was more of a headbutt, making (y/n) yelp. As she rubbed her sore skull, the doofus plodded away, swearing he didn't need to sleep because he had a job to get rid of those British kids if it was the last thing he did. 

"But it still might eat off all of your hair!" Schwoz called after him, matching the heroine's worry when the man headed toward the door again. 

"No! Not the floppy floof!" (y/n) whimpered childishly, stamping her foot as her exhaustion made her stroppy. She pouted and crossed her arms, looking like a scolded toddler at the thought of losing one of her favourite doofy features. But Ray wasn't listening, even as the bacteria hungered for sustenance. 

"Shut up, bacteria! Leave me alone! My wife says I'm so...handsome!" He rambled, pushing the door open with a limp arm as he cradled the mayo jar to his chest. 

His sweet girl longed to go after him, feeling weepy and tired that she had jelly legs, so it was up to Schwoz to chase after him while the kids rallied around her. 

"Okay, new problem. We can't let Ray throw that flesh-eating bacteria on Percy and Miriam," Mika sighed, patting the woman soothingly on the back as her friends agreed, even Chapa. She was mean and ruthless, but she only wanted to scare them away, not melt them like butter, so, as much as it played against her morals, she knew they had to stop the man. 

And that wouldn't be easy after staying up all night. 

"Step one--we stay awake. If we fall asleep, we can't protect Percy and Miriam." She nodded, steeling herself and ignoring her desperate wish to curl up in a ball and sleep. It was okay; she'd pulled all-nighters before, although it wasn't on a school night. 

"You sure? You guys haven't stopped since yesterday afternoon," (y/n) fretted, noticing the bags under their eyes and how droopy Mika looked. And, when she tucked her fingers under Chapa's chin, analysing her worriedly, the girl didn't even jerk away with blushing cheeks, holding her eyelids shut for a long second. 

"We're fine, (y/n/n). School starts in ten minutes," Miles assured her, ignoring how his eyes couldn't focus on anything for more than ten seconds. 

"Good. We can make it ten minutes."

"Yeah! I'm not tired at all!" Bose smiled cockily, reclining against the couch to try and convince their only sane teacher. They had no idea how the lesson would go if Ray was off his rocker, but one thing was for sure - sleep was their enemy, and they were on their guard. 

Nope, they wouldn't drop off. They were superheroes, and sleep was for the weak. Definitely. Nothing would get past them, no matter if they just closed their eyes for a quick second...counting sheep...dreaming of bedtime...pillows and cotton wool. So...very...sleepy.

~

Or not. The second the kids sat down at their desks, bones aching after so much hard work, a wave of sleepiness washed over them. 

The class had barely begun, yet their heads dipped, resting on their open books and tables as Percy and Miriam stood silently in the doorway. They were baffled to see their fellow students snoring away with the lovely Mrs Manchester swaying on the stage with bleary eyes and dull reflexes. She greeted them quietly, waving weakly as she rubbed her eyes, looking dreadful without a touch of concealer and blush for her pesky complexion. 

"Hello, P-Piriam and Mercy...welcome to your s-second day," (y/n) spoke softly, bumbling over those tricky syllables as the children frowned in concern. They'd never comment on her appearance - they were far too polite to tell her that her blouse wasn't buttoned up correctly and her jacket looked dirty - but she was acting weird and looked worse. 

"Miss...are you all right? Miriam asked kindly, wondering why the woman who seemed so sharp yesterday was swaying from side to side as she waited for her crazed husband. 

"Yes, thank you. I am exquisite! Would you be so kind as to join your fellow academics of the scholarly arts?" She asked, gesturing to their rickety seats as she mimicked their accents, unable to help herself. Nothing made sense; she smiled dreamily at the confused girl as she nearly tripped over her feet since the world felt fuzzy. 

"Um...hello, schoolmates?" Percy called out tentatively, scared to sit down as they slumbered silently on their desks, sniffling and snuffling in their sleep but not replying. 

"Oh, Percy! What's wrong with them?--"

"I'm awake!" The siblings peered at the superhero kids, alarmed at how Mika suddenly shot up with wide eyes and stiff limbs, screaming to the heavens. She swore she'd only closed her eyes briefly, waking her friends up simultaneously, so they all saw that they'd been napping for fifteen minutes or more. (y/n) was too nice to wake them up, hoping they could catch a few winks before Ray turned up, wherever he was. 

"Is there something wrong?" The polite boy asked warmly, and the kids all turned to stare at them, thankfully noticing the lack of mayo. How long had they been standing there?

"Yes! You guys gotta get out of here!" Mika told them urgently, fearing what her boss would do when he found them. Sweet girl or no sweet girl, she felt that, at this point, Ray was too tired to listen to anyone. 

"We would never abandon you in a time of need!"

"No, SWAG for life, I say!"

"And so say I!" Miriam and Percy declared, refusing to flee when there was danger. Whilst it was noble and valiant of them, especially how they thumped their clenched fists against their chests like some kind of oath, it made their new friends groan in frustration. They couldn't help but be nice, even though it was for their own good--and it was becoming grating. 

"(y/n), have you seen Ray?" Suddenly, Schwoz burst into the room from the cupboard, looking frantic and nervous as his eyes scoured the room for the fatigued hero. 

"If I had, we'd be sleeping by now," the heroine replied, only to pause her temple massage when a thought hit her, "Wait, I thought he was with you!"

"Yah...he's not."

"Schwoz!" (y/n) facepalmed, gaze flickering to Miriam and Percy as they smiled and waved pleasantly. Bless them - they didn't understand what was happening, although she wasn't sure if they'd run away screaming if they knew the anti-doofus was hunting them with murderous bacteria. They'd probably through it a tea party, not that they'd let Ray near them. 

Her poor doofus was probably scared, alone, and confused, blinded by his exhaustion, which made her heart throb and long to guide him to their room. They'd nap for ten hours at least, then some more until he forgot about the mayonnaise and became his silly, lovable self again. She hated the thought of everyone fearing him - it wasn't his fault. 

"Okay, out the door! Let's go--Let's go--s'go, s'go, s'go, s'go, s'go, s'go!" Mika shouted, taking charge of the situation as the adults bickered, the heroine scolding Schwoz for somehow losing a six-foot bumbling man. 

But there was no time for arguing as they ushered the orphans outside, pulling the big, heavy, wooden doors open--only to see Roy waiting menacingly on the porch. He looked worse than before, barely having the strength to don his dandy attire, so his shirt and jacket were rumpled, cravat pulled loose down his front, and his pants didn't look ironed. He hadn't had a wash or bothered to brush his hair since that took more effort than he had, yet the mayonnaise jar was still tightly in his palm. 

His wife whimpered at how...awful he looked, glaring at poor Percy and Miriam as they cowered in the doorway, terrified of the insane glint in his eye. That wasn't the doofus she married, all red-faced and crazy, with eyes for nothing but murder. 

"Cheerio, kiddies! Who's hungry for mayonnaise?!" Ray cackled evilly, brandishing the jar in the horrified kids' faces, and even Danger Force was scared. They shrieked in terror, Bose trembling and hiding in (y/n)'s arms, as Chapa and Miles pushed him back a few paces and attempted to close the doors--anything to keep him out. Meanwhile, Mika pulled Percy and Miriam further into the classroom, knowing they'd have to defend them from there. 

"Into the closet, Canadians!" Bose instructed them, meaning well, even if he was a little confused. 

"Is there something wrong with Teacher?" Percy snivelled at (y/n) as she guided him and his sister into the back room, praying they'd be safe there. It broke her heart to hear his question, not knowing how to explain to the doe-eyed boy that her husband wanted to watch the flesh melt off their bones, so she just smiled and shoved him behind the door. 

"Yes! Everything's fine--just don't come out until we tell you!" She laughed nervously as if her frenzied actions didn't shout the opposite. They slammed the door shut, lamenting that there was a lock, but they stood fast, Mika and Bose working to block the door while the heroine protected them. 

Her husband finally shouldered in the door, unable to direct his sausage-like fingers to use the handle. Still, he made it, delirious and determined to hunt down those kids. But (y/n) wouldn't let him, knowing that while it broke her heart, she'd whack him if she had to, resolved to keep her babies safe, no matter what. 

And she supposed that, even if it was for a little while, and even if they were annoyingly mannerly, Percy and Miriam fell into that category. Her duty was to keep them safe, especially from the thing haunting her husband. 

"Where are those, Brits, (y/n)? I gotta get rid of those kids!" Ray - or Roy - asked gruffly, staring at his trembling with uncommonly dark and harsh eyes, unlike the innocent blue she was used to. 

She tried not to take it to heart as she faced him, arms crossed across her chest to shield her love from his malice - telling herself that her doofus would never use her real name in such a casual fashion. Her husband only called her by the sweetest words, saying them with love and affection, and he'd never sneer at his students like that. 

"Doofus, you need to sleep! Why don't we just go lie down? Hmmm?" She offered gently, resting her flat palms on his chest as she fluttered her eyelashes to entice him, which worked briefly. The man laid his hands on her hips, gaze softening at her touch and sweet proposal, and it sounded heavenly, almost enough to tempt him into dropping the jar, but he shook his head and growled. 

"Which I'll never get as long as they're here! We'll sleep when they're gone!"

"Okay, Raymond, if you act like a child, I will treat you like a child," (y/n) growled, clutching his untucked shirt as she frowned and dug her heels into the floor.

"You've got two options, mister. Come to bed with me right now, or I'll drag your ass there myself, and you'll sleep alone." She huffed, folding her arms to show she meant business. No one else dared to meet Roy's glare, but she bravely blocked him with her body as he pouted, something deep down in his heart telling his sleepy brain that its match wasn't happy. The aching in his chest didn't cease, but he ignored it, even if her sad stare made it worse. 

"...Third option--spin move!" He snapped rebelliously and, much to her shock, dashed to dodge past her. She was expecting some trick, moving in time with the hulking hero, but for someone so bulky, he was agile, wriggling past her defences to charge at the kids - the last line of defence. 

With Miss Danger tripping over herself, Chapa stepped up, conjuring a mighty jolt of electricity to shock Ray in the chest. It stunned him briefly, making him gasp and shudder as he scowled and took a moment to recover. Miles tucked himself under his arm while frozen, making (y/n) sniffle at how roughly they had to treat him. 

"Next stop--the Man's Nest!" The boy quipped, ensuring his teacher was securely in his grasp before thrusting his arm in the air, teleporting them out of the room. Everyone could breathe a sigh of relief...for about five seconds. Unfortunately, Miles' inability to land correctly meant that he and Ray reappeared less than a metre away, incoherent and confused from the short trip. 

"Oh, come on! Not even out of the room?!" And no one was more upset than Miles, who frowned and stamped his foot when he noticed how miserably he'd done, perhaps even only succeeded in edging the sleepy man closer to their wards. 

"Lemme at those kids!" Ray screeched, holding the jar of flesh-eating bacteria high above his head, ready to toss it at whichever Brit came his way. Chapa pressed herself against the door, blocking him from reaching the door handle as Percy and Miriam cowered in the closet, hearing nothing but raised voices and arguing. 

"You know we can't let you do that, Raymond!" (y/n) growled, her mean glare distracting him long enough for Bose to sneak in with his telekineses. 

The hero couldn't help but feel bad as his precious girl hissed at him, allowing the kid to carefully lift the jar out of his hand and harm's way until it floated high above Ray's head. He swatted the air for it, growling for the mayo to return to him, but even he wasn't tall enough to jump and grab it. Thankfully, it wasn't too heavy for Bose to use his power, keeping him bouncing to reach it, giving his heavy-hearted wife quick peeks at his toned tummy when his shirt rose. 

Mika went next, activating his super-scream to try and knock the hero over now that he was unarmed. Yet, unfortunately, she didn't aim very well. She accidentally hit Bose, too, toppling the kid over and shattering his concentration on the jar, making it fall through the air. 

Whilst he fell to the floor, Ray stayed on his feet, confused and oblivious, until it crashed on his head, sending glass shards and thick, gloopy bacteria all over his beautiful hair. And those nasty critters were hungry. Instantly, it began to burn, chomping through his silken locks with a voracious hunger, making Ray grasp at his head in terror. 

He yelled in horror, hands coated in the goo and clumps of his hair, extra terrified in his tired state. As the hero panicked and screamed in pain, his wife rushed to his side, nervous about getting anything on her since she wasn't quite indestructible but couldn't bear to see him in pain. He raced past her, running for the front door like the outdoors could save him from the itching, creepy-crawly tingling on his scalp, much to her concern. 

"Raymond! His hair--his beautiful hair!" (y/n) blubbered, torn between chasing after him to try and wash it off and staying to keep watch. The damage was already done, and whilst she assumed Schwoz's science would fix the mess his bacteria caused, there was no helping him while he ran riot. 

"Friends!" A joyous voice called out, and the group froze. They knew that chirpy tone and polite accent anywhere. "We can stay idle no longer!"

"Are you okay?" Miriam questioned kindly as she and Percy emerged from the closet, troubled by the bizarre and horrifying noises they heard through the door. They didn't mean to drop any eaves, but...it would be rude to not offer any assistance. 

"Um...well..." (y/n) giggled nervously, scratching her head as she tried to explain everything. But how do you tell two children that your sleep-deprived husband went on a murderous rampage, and now bacteria were eating his hair? God, she wanted a nap, but at least things couldn't get much worse. 

"Hello?! What's going on in there?" She spoke too soon. The headmistress felt her heart plummet into her tummy, alive with nerves at the sound of that shrill voice. And there was only one woman it belonged to - the one with the nose she liked to stick in unwanted places. Sharona Shapen and her impeccable timing. 

She stomped into the classroom in another hideous suit: grey check with a flouncy lilac scarf, matching blouse, a little flower pin on her lapel, and a deep frown on her meerkat-like face. The kids froze upon seeing her, looking to (y/n) for help since she was supposed to be the teacher--the ringleader in their den of chaos. 

"Normal school stuff?" She said anxiously, wiping her moist palms on her jacket as she subtly straightened herself out, patting down her skirt and tucking her hair behind her ears. The heroine refused to look subpar to that clown of a woman. Still, Sharona didn't spare her a glance, finding Percy and Miriam and grinning her toothy smile when she saw them standing together - fortunately, still in one piece. 

"Ah-ha! There's my little British Bake-Offs! You're coming with me," she told them firmly in a weirdly happy voice. 

The siblings peered at her strangely, wondering why the inspector had returned so quickly when they'd barely settled into their new school. But she insisted, not taking their confusion or no for an answer. 

"What's this?"

"Whatever for?" They inquired, utterly puzzled they'd sworn their oath of allegiance or whatever, refusing to leave their friends simply because she said so. 

"I got a new school for ya!"

"We will never leave our friends," Percy replied sharply, standing shoulder to shoulder with his sister as she readily agreed. Although their time had been short and weird, they felt a strange sense of loyalty. Still, perhaps that was simply their nobility and honour shining through, making Chapa wrinkle her nose in disgust. 

"SWAG forever, I say!"

"And so say I!"

"Yeah, you're going to forget about these dopes in, like, two seconds when the horse-drawn carriage gets here," Sharona shrugged, having mysteriously found somewhere much more suitable for the orphans than the shitshow ran by that mousy woman and her handsome yet husband. 

And speaking of that smoke show, Ray rolled in, screaming and shouting like a raving lunatic as he descended from the steps to the Man's Nest. (y/n) felt her mouth go dry and her intestines clench when she saw how he clutched at his smooth, shiny, bald head, completely stripped free of hair - even a stubble. The bacteria had left nothing behind, and for a guy so caught up in his appearance, the loss, combined with his exhaustion, was devastating. 

"My hair! My beautiful hair!"

"Oh, doofus..." she mumbled, pressing a trembling hand against her cheek as he barrelled toward the group. He looked crazy in his sleek, rumpled, gunge-covered clothes, but she knew she still loved him, even if he looked like an egg. She wasn't so shallow as to focus on his lack of chocolate locks, even if she silently mourned its loss. 

"Ah, it burns! Oh, God, it burns!" He shrieked, collapsing into the antique chair that Percy had been sitting in as it rolled out the door. Seeing a bald man with superpowers wheeling himself around his school for gifted children was a strange sight, shouting and screaming to God. Miss Shapen wondered what she'd walked into, and she was glad to return to save those poor orphans from the madness. 

"What's his problem?"

"He just needs a nap--now, what's this about a horse-drawn carriage?" Chapa asked curiously, knowing her friend would get her doofus into bed once the strangers were gone, but she wanted to know where they were going. And in such luxury, at that. 

"Some billionaire in Bordertown runs a school for poor, gifted English kids," Sharona explained excitedly, eager to whisk Percy and Miriam away from the cesspit of a school so she could go and enjoy the billionaire's company--and hopefully a few of his millions. 

"Oh, does he?" Mika gasped incredulously, twirling a lock of her dark hair around her finger as she smirked at the odd woman--looking as if she knew something her friends didn't. It took a minute for (y/n) to figure it out, her brain not what it usually was when she was so tired, but then, it hit her. She didn't...did she?

"Yeah, it's a lot of paperwork to apply. I don't know how you did it!" The inspector remarked to Percy and Miriam, who looked just as flabbergasted as she did, not knowing what she was talking about. But Mika had it covered, silently smug that she'd tapped away on her computer as per her teacher's advice whilst they all doubted her. 

"Me neither! It's almost like someone else filled out their applications for them!"

"Yeah, whatever! Anyway, each kid gets a million bucks and a banger of an education. Much better than this dump!" Miss Shapen cackled, much to (y/n)'s offence, who folded her arms and glared, looking slightly meaner than usual with her dark under-eyes and doofus-less status. 

"Hey! I'll have you know my husband and I put our life savings into this place!" She retorted indignantly, highly protective of her beautiful school's windows and gardens. She left out the part where the good old taxpayer funded half of it, not that the odd woman needed to know that- they were obliged to Captain Man and Miss Danger for guarding them. 

"Your husband?!" Sharona laughed cruelly, gesturing to where Ray rolled away, wailing hysterically. "What kind of gifted school is run by an old bald guy in a wheelchair?"

"I'll have you know, Sharona--"

"I am not old!" Ray snapped rudely, abruptly rolling into the room with a scowl, butting in when his sweet girl went to defend him. She sighed at the sorry sight he made, knowing it had been a trying few days for him, casting back to that promise she had made. Would they even have time for that now?

His head shined under the bright lights, looking particularly spherical and slick, exasperated by his kooky clothes. Yet despite everything, he was offended by the insinuation that he was old - his classic sore spot. 

"Pipe down, Mr Clean!" Sharona hissed, scrunching her face in disgust at his unkempt, bohemian appearance. Before (y/n) could say something - or punch her in the teeth - the inspector stormed forward and kicked Ray's wheelchair, sending his back onto the porch as he clutched his sore, chilly scalp. How cruel - she picked on him at his most vulnerable. 

"My doofus!" The heroine exclaimed in horror, cringing when she heard her lover whimper and crash into something. 

"Listen here, Sharona," she snarled defensively, "what's your game? What do you want?"

"Your school can keep its license, Mrs Manchester, but I'm never sending any other students here again," the gaudy woman announced, much to Miriam and Percy's disappointment, their bottom lips wobbling. They didn't want to leave, but their friends couldn't help but secretly celebrate the news; they'd never have to worry about unwanted visitors again. They had Ray and his spectacular performance to thank for that.

"Now, come on, beans and toast. Time to Brexit!" Miss Shapen whistled to the orphans, ignoring their kicked-puppy expressions since she was on a roll with her British puns. She waltzed out of the classroom, expecting them to follow her, and the kids had no choice but to take their leave, but not before bidding their friends and instructor goodbye. 

"We will never forget you! Thank you so much, Miss (y/n)!" Percy smiled and sniffed, blinking back tears as he suddenly wrapped his arms around (y/n)'s waist. The poor kid was so short, barely reaching past her tummy as his sister hugged her other side, snuggling into her body like they were leaving their mother or a dear friend. Despite the surprise, it warmed the woman's heart, and she couldn't leave them hanging. 

"It was my pleasure to...teach you," she told them gently, awkwardly patting their headscarf and flat cap since she wouldn't assume they learned anything from their hurried and bizarre lessons. But, if anything, the children were a delight in the school and, as always, so very polite.

"SWAG forever, I say!"

"And so say I!" They swore stalwartly, ignoring the sadness to tap their fists against their chests. It was a final goodbye that moved even the stoniest of hearts--namely Chapa's, who nodded solemnly as the others tried not to cry. They were so strong, especially Miles, who repeated their gestures as the brother and sister emotionlessly marched away without another word - not looking back once. 

And then, they were alone again as Percy and Miriam left for a life of ease and luxury--it was almost convincing enough to make them follow. But they didn't, seeing Ray parked outside and knowing they had their own oath to fulfil, starting with getting him in bed with his sweet girl and a wig. 

"Can't believe Miles was right..." Bose sighed as they gathered together, feeling empty now that their little crumpets had gone on to better things, but Mika couldn't help but frown...

"About what?" (y/n) asked curiously, knowing that the first thing she wanted to do was sleep, snuggled up to her husband on their emperor-sized bed. 

"The solution revealed itself!"

"What?" Mika frowned at this long-haired boy's words, refusing to believe that he thought her brother and his mystic bullshit were the answer to their problems. They ignored how she worked her butt off to get Miriam and Percy into that fancy school. Still, they laughed and congratulated Miles for his efforts--like they left by chance. It was amusing for (y/n) to watch, chuckling to herself when she practically saw steam coming out of the girl's ears. 

"Hey, yeah. It did!" Chapa agreed, clueless to the furious girl by her elbow. 

"The universe will provide..." Miles stated calmly and smugly, infuriating his sister even more. He lapped up all the attention his friends gave him, feeling like he was one with the spirits--although he'd meet them sooner than later if Mika got ahold of him. 

"Mika provides! I filled out their applications like (y/n) told me to while everyone else wasn't paying any attention to me!" She exclaimed frustratedly, wildly gesturing to herself as she ranted about how she'd saved the day - it was funny to watch.

But her friends weren't in the mood for one of her holier-than-thou lectures, glancing at each other tiredly before simply walking away, heading for the closet so they could go to the Man's Nest and nap. They deserved a little relaxation, their heads throbbing too much to listen to Mika's incessant ramblings. 

"Hello?! Hello?! I exist! (y/n/n), tell them!" She wailed, looking at the older girl pleadingly to get her support, but she just laughed kindly. 

"You did good, Mika. Well done for helping us out," (y/n) praised her happily, rubbing her head like she was rewarding a puppy, but Mika lapped it up. She practically glowed at the compliment, beaming with pride, even if she tried to appear modest and humble. 

"Aw, shucks..."

"So, go and rest with the others. You must be exhausted," the heroine told her, ushering the sleepy girl toward where her friends had disappeared when she yawned suddenly. Too tired to argue, Mika nodded weakly, rolling her shoulders now the adrenaline had worn off, and she turned to the door, fingers brushing the golden handle when she noticed that her friend wouldn't follow. 

"What about you? Aren't you gonna go to bed?"

"Of course! My feet feel like they'll drop off if I wear these heels for a minute longer," she replied with a tired laugh, shifting from one foot to the other since she couldn't feel her toes. They'd been squashed in heels - boots or otherwise - for over twelve hours, and she was drained, hearing her bed calling out to her. She'd listen, knowing the route even with her eyes closed, but first, there was something she needed to do...

"But first, I need to go get His Grumpiness."

"Oh, come on. Ray will be fine if you nap for an hour or two!" Mika exclaimed, slowly pushing the door open, hoping it would tempt the woman into tagging along. She hated the bags under her eyes, but no matter what she said, she still edged toward the front door, where Ray still sulked on the porch in his wheelchair, determined to go to bed with him. 

"I guess, but he's my husband, and I love him, even if he's all eggy now," (y/n) shrugged, gently refusing the girl's subtle offer when she jerked her head to the back room, setting her sights on the grumbling doofus throwing a tantrum amongst the potted plants. 

It would be nightmarish and nearly impossible to convince him to go with her, considering how he was screeching and scratching at his hairless head, but she'd manage it. No matter if it took another hour, she'd drag him there, strip his stupid riding boots off, and tuck them under the comforter - they'd solve his smooth noggin problem later. 

"Can't sleep without him..."

"Do you think he'll be bald forever?" The girl asked curiously, wondering if it was something they'd have to get used to, but she didn't look too worried. As much as she adored his brown floof, (y/n) didn't cry or frown, unlike when she first saw his kooky new look, seeming oddly relaxed and happy as she hovered in front of the door. 

"Nah... Schwoz will throw some hair juice on his head or something, and I'll have my handsome doofus back in no time!" She exclaimed, practically bouncing with joy at the thought of being in her lover's embrace again, where she could hear his rational thoughts and sweet words. She needed it after a long day, shivering at the thought of finally resting with him. 

In her happiness, she didn't feel the smile creeping onto her face, too wrapped up to see Mika giggling at that dreamy-eyed expression. 

"You really love him, don't you?" She remarked softly, half-disappearing behind her door as (y/n) went in the opposite direction on her mission. Her cheeks grew warm, yet she quickly nodded, never denying it - her purest form was when she revelled in her deep adoration for that man, who took all other love she might have had for anyone else to give her room to grow. 

"More than anything..." she replied softly, enough for Mika. The girl didn't argue any more, seeing that nothing she said would convince her otherwise. She passed into the other room, leaving the heroine with weariness and endless love as everything finally fell silent. 

The classroom needed a good tidy, and she wanted to check on the kids before she slept since it had been their longest shift yet. There was a lot to do, more than she could bear to think about when her body ached, begging to restore itself, but it was nice to stand and appreciate...nothing. No problems, no children, nothing that could go wrong...

She was frozen, seeing the sunlight holding the dust in its beams before it settled on her surfaces, readying for cleaning. Maybe in a few hours, but she could hear Ray crying on the front porch, calling her name in a needy, pitchy voice as his fists thumped the chair. He had to be her priority, worrying for others before herself. 

She sighed and closed her eyes, knowing the silence never lasted long, but that was okay. She fixed her jacket, rubbed her face, and studied the messy classroom, calling out that she was on her way, fighting through the exhaustion. 

Off she went again, head held high as the school doors closed until the next crazy adventure.

[thefaithfulwriter1]

𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐏𝐏 (𝟎𝟐. 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐖𝐎 & 𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄)

𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐏𝐏 | ❝ Not really sure how to feel about it. Something in the way you move. Makes me feel like I can't live without you. It takes me all the way. I want you to stay. ❞ - Rihanna & Mikky Ekko

Summary - When love is true, distances doesn't matter. That was something she read somewhere from the internet. It proves to be true though when she meets two handsome men on a dating app called Cupid Matchmaker App. Two men she never thought would notice her even on a simple dating app. The three soon embark on a journey together finding love in each other, through texting, video calls, calls, and then finally meeting.

Pairing - Taehyung x Fem!Reader x Jungkook

Alternative Universe - Normal Life, Social Media (Sort Of), Tattoo Artist

Warnings - Fluff, Angst, Semi Smut, Language, Mention of Past Sexual Abuse, Poly. Relationship, MxM, MxMxF, FxM, May Add If Needed

Main Characters - 𝐘/𝐧 𝐋/𝐧 - The Shy Painter / Artist, 𝐓𝐚𝐞𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐠 -Tattoo Artist, 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 - Tattoo Artist, 𝐀𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐭 & 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 - 𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧 - The Owner of Tattoo shop, 𝐒𝐞𝐨𝐤𝐣𝐢𝐧 - The Chef, 𝐘𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢 - The Musician, 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐤 - The Dance Instructor / Piercer, 𝐉𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐧 - Dance Instructor / Tattoo Artist, 𝐄𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐚 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐬 - (Nina Dobrev -Y/n's Best friend) - Florist, 𝐓𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐚 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 (Kat Graham - Elena's Girlfriend/ Y/n's Friend) - Photographer

A Week Later...

You were now in Elena's flower shop trying to take a break from your work... and your phone. Or more specifically the app Cupid Matchmaker App. As you sat at the register while watching Elena water and feed the flowers. While Tiana took pictures of flowers and Elena. While they were in their own little words, consumed in each other as they spoke. You were lost in your thoughts thinking about a lot of things. Sighing, you rest your head on your hand. As you thought of the past few days.

You have been mostly working on your paintings. Getting some projects done and sending them out to their buyers or new owners. But in between breaks and at night you were also speaking to people on the app Elena had sent you. It was hectic to begin with and you were so nervous. But now you are going with the flow of everything now. It was all you can do.

There were many people on the app. Some were just disgusting with wanting nothing more than nudes and sexting. Which you blocked quickly. But then there were people who were dull or didn't know what you were talking about. Then there were ones who didn't have the same interests as you and or stopped talking mid sentence. Which was nerve wracking but you got over it. You didn't know what to do... besides wait.

You didn't know why you thought it would happen so quickly. Finding your person or the love of your life. But you could say you were learning to be patient with the whole ordeal. But it didn't make it any less hard. You were learning to cope with your nervousness. You also were learning to talk to new people and be excited over it. Which had you smile. You were against the whole thing in the first place with joining the app. But you were learning a whole lot from it.

"What are you smiling about, Y/n," Tiana asked. Which grabbed Elena's attention as she walked over to you leaning over the counter. Tiana and herself were talking when they saw a smile wash over your lips. Which Tiana took a picture of you with her own smile. Before letting the camera fall against her chest being that it was attached to a strap around her neck. As she walked over to stand next to Elena. Hearing and seeing the two you lift your head from your hand and smile widely. You were about to speak but was cut off by Elena.

"Have you met someone on the app? Please tell me. Spill the tea. I wanna know," Elena beamed. As she grabbed your hands that were laying on the counter, and began jumping up and down with a wide smile. She was hoping that you had found someone to talk to. All she wanted was for you to be happy and experience love like she has with Tiana. She wanted you to be happy so badly. That she wanted to help you in any way that she can. You were always there for her through everything that she had gone through. She wanted to be there for you as well. But she never told you how much she wanted you to be happy because she didn't want to overwhelm you. So she kept it to herself and Tiana. A giggle escaped your lips at her antics. As you shook your head at her. That was when Tiana spoke.

"Calm down sweetheart," Tiana chuckled softly, ordering Elena. As she placed a hand on her girlfriend's back. Trying to calm her down. Elena soon stopped and sent the two of you a pout. Before smiling when Tiana kissed her cheek. Seeing the two of them had you smiling with another giggle. You loved them both like sisters and also admired their relationship. You shipped them together. They were like polar opposites but balanced each other out quite well. What the other had that the other didn't. But they made it work out with each other. Shaking your head again you looked down bashfully at your's and Elena's hands. Before nodding and speaking.

"I can't with you Elena. But no, I haven't met anyone on the app. Though there are a lot of people who are diverse that I have talked to I haven't clicked with anyone yet. But being on the app has taught me a few things though," you informed the two girls with a smile. Patting her hands you got up from your seat and stood up straight. As you walked around the counter. Smiling at the two you bit your lip and held out your arms for a hug. Elena was quick to pull you into a hug along with Tiana.

"Thank you for introducing me to the app, and convincing me to go on it. I may not like the app all the time. But it really helps me somewhat with my fears and whatnot," you explained to them. Which had the two of them nod understanding what you said. Elena was happy that she was helping you in any way she could, and was proud of you. While Tiana was extremely proud of you for getting over some of your fears.

"Well I'm happy that it's helping you Honey. Still be careful and let us know if you ever need help on it okay," Elena smiled with a nod. Pulling away you sent her another smile and nod. Understanding her and taking in what she had to say. Looking up you looked at the time and went to gather your things.

"I will, I promise. But I have to get back home and do a few things alright," you said. As you picked up your coat, throwing it on and placing your purse over your shoulders. You sighed looking outside the glass window at the growing crowd walking by. You were never good with crowds. But you knew you wanted to get home. You were preparing and pep talking yourself to go outside when you heard Tiana speak.

"You want one of us to take you home Y/n," Tiana questioned. As she looked at the scared expression on your face as you looked outside the shop window. She has learned over time some of your troubles with the help of Elena, and she wanted to help as much as she could. Elena was quick to agree with her partner. If Elena had to she would close her shop for a little bit if need be. So, that she could walk you home.

"No! I'm okay. I need to do this on my own. I will text you when I get home though it's not that far away anyways," you uttered with a sigh. You were starting to want to do things on your own. You started to want to get over your fears, you had determination. Seeing this caused Elena and Tiana to nod and give you encouraging smiles witnessing your determination. As you walked to the door of the shop. You looked back and you sent them a wave before opening the door.

Taking a deep breath you walked out the flower shop. As you shut the door you heard 'goodbyes' from Elena and Tiana. Which had you smile. Soon you were walking the sidewalks of the vast city. Walking through the streets you sighed not liking the crowded streets as you looked around. You began to think as you walked home.

You never did like crowded places nor loud noises. It was just one of the things that made you, you. After everything you've been through. Moving to a vast city wasn't really what you wanted to do. But it's what Elena wanted to do and after everything she had been through you wanted to be there for her. And she convinced you it would be better for your dream to be in a city. But you decided to go wanting to keep your promise when you were teens over the internet. But you two found yourselves moving there anyway after meeting each other. You two having met on the internet when you were teens. When you both graduated highschool you both met for the first time with your own parents' help. It was a very emotional meeting and you both cherished it with all your hearts.

But after graduating and meeting you two didn't want to leave each other's side. Especially with Elena's home life. She had a hard life with her parents after coming out about her liking women instead of men. They treated her terribly. Which caused you to beg for your parents to let her stay with you. Having witnessed their actions over video and hearing them over the phone. Which after explaining your parents soon took the proper actions and took her in. After that you and Elena worked hard to earn money. So, you could start with making your dreams a reality. After some time you both finally made enough to go to the city. Well more so on the side of the city in a little cabin of both your own. Seeing that at the time you two needed to start the exploration of the beginning of your adult life.

Even though at first you had Elena at your side. You were scared but happy you took such big steps in your life. Even your parents were happy. You and Elena had found a little cabin on the side of the city that you made your own. After finding your home you both started on making your dreams come true. Elena wanted to be a florist and you wanted to be an artist. It was hard at first trying to pursue your dreams. But you both made due and had each other every step of the way. It made you smile remembering both of your past together. And it made you happy that you still have her in your life after so long. She was the only constant thing in your life besides your mother.

Right now though you were walking through the crowded streets. Your hands tremble as they hold tightly onto your purse strip. As you tried to avoid bumping into people. After some time you soon reached the side of the city.. A chuckle left your lips as you saw your cabin come into view. With a skip in your step you soon reach the front yard of your cabin. It was decorated with flowers from Elena and small wildlife were around. It always brought a smile upon your face when seeing your little home. Skipping to the front door you reach into your bag to grab your keys to open the door. Once it was open you yell out, "Shadow I'm home."

It didn't take much time for the all black Maine Coone to rush over to you. A giggle left you as he brushed himself against your legs. Reaching down you petted him as he purred. As you took off your shoes and coat. After giving him some affection you walked over to the kitchen and got him some food and more water. When done taking care of him you walked over to the couch. Looking around you smiled at your little home.

It was recently that Elena had moved out to be with Tiana in the city. You were sad at first and scared that you would lose her. But with her reassurance you realized she wasn't leaving you. She was just wanting to be closer to Tiana and wanted to give you some space. Which you appreciated. Because now you had become a bit more independent, not relying on Elena. A sigh left you as you turned on the TV. Putting on a show as you pulled a blanket over you to get comfortable. You soon reach into your pocket for your phone.

Remembering your need to text Elena that you were home safe. After letting her know, you soon checked your other messages from potential customers and your mother. When you were done you soon turned off your texting, having it turned to your home screen. A picture of you and Shadow took up the screen.

When you looked over the apps thinking of what you should do your eyes fell on the Cupid Matchmaker App. There was a blue dot on the corner of the purple icon. Showing there were notifications. Shrugging you tapped on the app looking through the notifications you had. Seeing all the upgrades they had on the app. You flicked through them with a sigh. When done seeing them all, you soon see that you had new people who liked your profile. You were looking at all the new people when one profile caught your eyes.

Your eyes widen seeing it. It was a picture of not one but two handsome men. With the name of Tae&Kook as their username. Who were both tattooed with beautiful art and were absolutely down right gorgeous. Clicking on the profile your mouth drops as you look through their pictures. There were pictures of them both together and then selfies of them alone. Many showing off their tattoos or just of them smiling. Rubbing your eyes you couldn't believe it. It was hard to believe that such a profile liked you. But you were confused why there were two men not one.

Sighing you looked down at the 'about me' section and you read hesitantly. It seemed that their names were Taehyung and Jungkook. Both of them were tattoo artists and were partners. What grabbed your attention was that they were looking for another partner. Saying they had more love to give to another. Which had you cough choking on your own saliva. But you continued to read a little more facts about them. Which were miniscule things about them like their favorite music and some of their hobbies.

It was so hard to believe that someone like them liked your profile. For a moment you were worried they were or are a person who was maybe catfishing people with the pictures. Because it was so hard to believe two men like that could exist on this app. But you soon remembered you shouldn't judge people.

Thinking you looked at the like button having your thumb hover over the screen. Knowing you had to like their profile in order for you to start talking to one another. You were soon thinking did you really want to take a chance with them. Were you willing to try and have a relationship with two men? If it came to that. Were you willing to take a chance?

You were thinking when suddenly Tiana's and Elena's words came to your mind. Take a chance. Make mistakes. You never know what will happen. YOLO, you only live once. Life's too short. Shaking your head of their words you looked down at your phone at their main profile picture. A picture of them in all black. With the man you think was Taehyung leaning over with his inked arms wrapped around the other named Jungkook as he sat taking the picture of the two. What drew you in even more was their genuine smiles.

So, with a sigh leaving your lips as you ran your fingers through your long hair. As you thought about it. Biting your lower lip nervously you shrug and said heck with it and pushed the like button. You watched as purple hearts lit up the screen as they floated around. A nervous sigh left your lips as you took your phone and put it on the coffee table in front of you. Standing up and folding your blanket you turn off the TV and pick up your phone heading to your room. Hearing movement behind you, you turned, seeing Shadow following you. Giggling, you open the door to your room. Throwing your phone on the bed you walked into the bathroom and got yourself ready for a shower.

After some time relaxing and cleaning up you then went back to your room. You found Shadow laying on the end of the bed sound asleep. Which had you smile as you walked over. Getting into the bed you pulled the covers over you and reached for your phone. Hoping to read a little bit before bed.

But as you clicked on your phone you were met with your lock screen, a picture of yourself. But what got your attention was the notification telling you had a message on the Cupid Matchmaker App. Putting in your passcode you clicked the app opening it up. Going to your messages on the app you took a deep breath seeing it was from Tae&Kook. Biting your lower lip nervously you take another deep breath trying to calm your nerves. Before clicking their message. Opening it you were met with two simple messages.

- 𝐓𝐚𝐞&𝐊𝐨𝐨𝐤 -

Hello - Tae

- 𝐓𝐚𝐞&𝐊𝐨𝐨𝐤 -

hey! - Kook

You chuckled at yourself for thinking the worst would happen. Before typing down your greeting to them.

- 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 -

Hi

It didn't take long before you saw the three little dots appear. Showing that one of them were typing.

- 𝐓𝐚𝐞&𝐊𝐨𝐨𝐤 -

How are you? - Tae

- 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 -

I'm doing well how are you two doing

- 𝐓𝐚𝐞&𝐊𝐨𝐨𝐤 -

we're doing great as well - Kook

- 𝐓𝐚𝐞&𝐊𝐨𝐨𝐤 -

Can I just say I love the pictures of your art on your profile. - Tae

- 𝐓𝐚𝐞&𝐊𝐨𝐨𝐤 -

well he said it before I could your art really is amazing. but I also want to point out that that huge cat looks awesome. - Kook

- 𝐓𝐚𝐞&𝐊𝐨𝐨𝐤 -

Haha I did say it first. Oh and that cat is cool. What kind is it? - Tae

Reading their messages had you chuckle and blush at their compliments. Before looking over at Shadow. Who had gravitated towards you, now lying beside you curled up into a ball. Smiling you look back at your phone and went through your pictures. Hesitantly you clicked a full picture of Shadow showing his full size and sent it to them. You soon bit your fingernail nervously wait for another reply.

- 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 -

[ sent image ]

- 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 -

He is a black Maine Coone cat

- 𝐓𝐚𝐞&𝐊𝐨𝐨𝐤 -

WOW! hes that big dang I would hate to be on his bad side - Kook

- 𝐓𝐚𝐞&𝐊𝐨𝐨𝐤 -

I agree with Jungkook I would hate to be attack by him - Tae

- 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 -

Yup! his name is Shadow. He's my little fur baby.

- 𝐓𝐚𝐞&𝐊𝐨𝐨𝐤 -

that is no baby. that is some thing else. its a cat the size of a minture dog - Kook

- 𝐓𝐚𝐞&𝐊𝐨𝐨𝐤 -

Calm down Kook! before you scare her away. - Tae

- 𝐓𝐚𝐞&𝐊𝐨𝐨𝐤 -

why would you text that. we're sitting right next to each other. NOW you're going to scare her away - Kook

- 𝐓𝐚𝐞&𝐊𝐨𝐨𝐤 -

NO I WILL NOT - Tae

- 𝐓𝐚𝐞&𝐊𝐨𝐨𝐤 -

WHY ARE YOU YELLING - KOOK

- 𝐓𝐚𝐞&𝐊𝐨𝐨𝐤 -

I'M NOT YELLING! I'M SIMPLY EMPHASIZING THROUGH TEXT WITH ALL CAPS. Side note why'd you write your name in all caps. - Tae

You laughed seeing their banter through the messages. It made you laugh so much you were holding your stomach as you held your phone. It was funny and made you less nervous seeing their banter and humor.

- 𝐓𝐚𝐞&𝐊𝐨𝐨𝐤 -

lets just forget tht and talk to yourusername - Kook

- 𝐓𝐚𝐞&𝐊𝐨𝐨𝐤 -

True. It seems we forgot to introduce ourselves. I am Taehyung Kim or Tae or also known as V. But to keep it simple you just call me Tae. Its why I am signing off as Tae because of our username - Tae

- 𝐓𝐚𝐞&𝐊𝐨𝐨𝐤 -

and I am Jungkook Jeon, JK, or Kook. whats your name? - Kook

- 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 -

Thats the most I have laughed in a long time. And my name is Y/n L/n

- 𝐓𝐚𝐞&𝐊𝐨𝐨𝐤 -

We're happy we could make you lol. But why don't we get to know each other now. Now that all of that is out of the way - Tae

That was how the rest of your night was spent. You texting back and forth with Taehyung and Jungkook. You learnt little things about the two men and them learning about you. You found that the three of you took a liking for art. It was a big part of your lives and it was all three of your passions.

After that the three of you soon started telling jokes to each other. Which led to them coming up with the nickname Kitten for you. Then you three began telling each other about your friends. Them having five friends that were in their life. Which led you to tell them a little bit about Elena and Tiana. But soon your messages became slower. Soon when messaging them you found yourself falling asleep in the middle of waiting for them to message you back. The last thing you saw before going fully asleep and clicking off your phone was the last message of Taehyung and Jungkook.

- 𝐓𝐚𝐞&𝐊𝐨𝐨𝐤 -

Well it seems that your falling asleep on us. so I would like to say goodnight and speak to you tomorrow kitten - Tae

- 𝐓𝐚𝐞&𝐊𝐨𝐨𝐤 -

yes have sweet dreams tonight kitten. - Kook

You sighed as you fell into a deep sleep with a smile upon your lips. You weren't expecting to talk all night with the two of them. But you were happy that you did. It was the most you've ever laughed. Though you knew you forgot to ask them for something. But you soon figured you needed to ask them for a picture of them for proof they are who they say they are. 

[killerkillerkillher]

NAIL PAINTING w/ 141

first Tumblr post. please be easy w me

content warning: nothing really. written to be platonic, but there's slight hints of pining in there if you want there to be.

reader call sign: Sorrow

no reference to your gender. they/them pronouns. no references to your appearance. reader character has an accent. I just wanted to spice things up a little.

tried to keep them as in-character as I could :) cheers.

PRICE

○ honestly isn't into it at first.

○ he's an older guy with some old school views I would think. would definitely politely reject you the first few times, but not without giving you a bit of an uncomfortable look.

○ one night, however, the entire squad is drinking at the base. one thing leads to another and you bring some of your self-care products into the commons to share.

○ Soap gets the hand masks, Gaz gets a charcoal peel mask, and somehow you even convince Ghost to try the cold eye mask. You think he might have fallen asleep with it on.

○ last is the captain. he doesn't look it, but you're positive that he is the most pissed you've ever seen him. you just have to shake the  "Beach Babe" tan colored bottle once and he's thrusting his hand out to you.

○ the paint job certainly isn't your best but you definitely got all ten fingers. you think. the colour sort of blends in with his skin. you'll leave fixing any mistakes to your sober self.

○ the next morning is surprisingly(not really) quiet. most of the team is hungover and trying to get a hold of themselves, but you're still surprised that Price didn't stop by to reprimand you.

○ you certainly remember the shiet paint job you gave him the night before. your blind grandma could have done better.

○ you look for him and find him in his office with a sparkling water and a bottle of painkillers.

○ "mornin', Captain."

○ "good morning, Sorrow." he just glances at you and keeps typing on his computer. is he mad?

○ "about last night. 'm sorry for paintin' your nails. i know you ain't really comfortable with it and-"

○ he stops typing and grabs his water. the polish is still there. it's even cleaned up a bit.

○ "oh. do you... do you like it?"

○ he just shrugs. "it matches my skin tone, right?"

○ he let's you paint his nails every so often after that.

○ only nude colours though. anything too bright or dark is a hard no.

○ makes the excuse that letting you mess with him is just too keep you busy, but you think he secretly just likes the personal, one on one time that you two have together.

GAZ

○ when you first offer he's a bit hesitant.

○ "like, my hands? um..."

○ the military definitely has given him an aversion to things that are seen as feminine. you, no matter your gender, do not seem to care about that and he finds that admirable.

○ he finds you in the commons one day, browsing your laptop. you're shopping for nail polishes.

○ "Hey, wanna help me decide on a colour?"

○ you both decide on "Army Girl" green and "Mud Bath" brown. it's pretty close to the colours used in your camos.

○ when it arrivesーoh boy. you call Gaz in to help you paint. you cover your hands and he gets your toes.

○ it's his first time so don't expect him to be perfect, okay? he does do pretty well though. takes his time and makes sure that he doesn't get too much on your skin.

○ "Hey, you wanna try it?" You offer again after you're finished. "think of it as another part of the uniform."

○ he folds. he's been a little curious about it since you first asked, honestly. why not? fuck what the others might think.

○ you paint his hands and feet and make him sit with you in your room until it's dry.

○ he likes this, he finds. not just the cool feeling of the polish on his nails, but also having a chance to just sit and talk with you.

○ he WILL pick at his nails just to get you to paint them again.

○ finds he likes natural colours and dark blues.

○ he wears navy blue ONCE and it's over. expect him at your door every time one of his fingers is chipped clean.

○ "Gaz, I might just get you your own bottle at this point."

○ "don't bother. I won't be able to do it like you do anyway."

SOAP

○ he probably wouldn't admit to your face that he's got a slight interest in self care products in general. makeup was never his thing but he'd done one or two relaxation nights in his days before the military.

○ that includes scented bathes, assorted face washes, and unsurprisinglyーa few coats of clear nail polish on his fingers just to keep his hands nice.

○ he did it for the ladies. women love a man that takes care of himself.

○ he notices your rainbow nails one day while out on an assignment. he is instantly curious.

○ after finishing your job, he's asking questions once you're back on base.

○ "you do that yourself, Sorrow?"

○ "hm? yeah. you like it?"

○ "yeah, actually."

○ nails like those aren't in the dress code. you have to remind him that you're all outside the bounds of regular military restriction.

○ he forgot about that lol

○ you bring him the colours that you've got and somehow, one thing leads to another and his nails end up painted with "Succubus' Kisses" purple.

○ he's in love with it. goes off somewhere to find Ghost and show him, then comes back a few minutes later with his nails ruined.

○ "I told you to let them dry!"

○ "sorry! I just wanted Ghost to see how well you did!"

○ you redo his nails. you want to complain more, but sitting so close to your comrade, his eyes focusing on every one of your little movements, a lovely silence encompassing the both of you, makes you shut up and appreciate the moment.

○ he would definitely try to match with you when given the chance.

○ "have you ever thought about getting those pointy nails and sharpening them? you reckon it would be sharp enough to cut rope or something?"

○ "Johnny, I am NOT going to give you tactical acrylics."

GHOST

○ he doesn't mess with nail polish, makeup, self-care routinesーnone of it.

○ it's just never been on his mind and if it has, he still doesn't really care for it. he's got more important things to worry about.

○ you find each other one night, wandering the base at a time where every one else is asleep. you're both restless and shaken from nightmares, and you can somehow understand why the other is wandering so late.

○ you invite him to your room.

○ "not f-for that! I'm just... thinkin' we could both try an' relax more there. I got a few things we cou' use."

○ he definitely still thinks you're coming on to him.

○ he still follows you though, so take that as you will.

○ you bring him back and make him sit on your bed. he waits there while you gather what you think you'll need.

○ "this is going to get us real sleepy, you ain't got a clue." You grin.

○ he did not expect you to pull out a small bag filled with nail polishes. you shake it around with a goofy, tired smile.

○ he doesn't get the deal but pulls off his gloves anyway. because why the hell not?

○ "I like to do this sometimes. I don' know what it is about takin' care of someone but it's relaxing. gets me sleepy. can I take care of you, ghost?"

○ how could he say no to that?

○ you wipe his hands down with a hot towel, clean up anything from under his nails, push back his cuticals.

○ he's massively uncomfortable for the first half of it because no one has given him attention like this ever. half way through though, he's relaxed, back against your pillows, eyes sagged.

○ you finally get him clocked out after giving him an cold sleeping mask. that and cool feeling of the "Devil's Blood" black nail polish works like a lullaby to a baby.

○ you accidently fall asleep against the side of the bed after finishing.

○ this definitely won't be the last time you do this. you'll somehow keep finding yourselves back in your room, the smell of nail polish bring you to sleep.

○ he wears gloves, so his nails aren't usually seen, but if even if they were, who the hell would have the balls to comment on it?'

○ Soap compliments them. he's the only one that notices the varying shades of black and grays that you use on him.

○ "hey, who's got you havin' painted nail anyway, L.t.?"

○ "wouldn't you like to know?"

○ Ghost would never tell him.

[accessibleaesthetics]

hello! I've been reading through the resources you've compiled and I really appreciate them! You seem pretty experienced with image descriptions, so I was hoping I could possibly ask you for some advice on how to make my poll tournament more accessible. If you don't have the capacity to help out right now, that's totally fine—let me know if there's someone who you think could better answer my questions!

Anyways, currently I'm running a tournament for poems that are popular on Tumblr (@poetrysmackdown). For Round 1 I just included the images of the poems, which I'd still like to include in future rounds just because it makes it easier to compare side by side, and a few of the poems' precise line structures would be pretty difficult to faithfully replicate on Tumblr. That said, I want to also include text transcriptions in the future rounds for obvious accessibility reasons (and I'm now really wishing I did for Round 1! I didn't realize the tournament would be voted on by anyone besides like ten of my mutuals haha). Do you have any advice on how to format text transcriptions for poems? I'm not sure how best to convey a line break for text-to-speech, for example—should I write it as a "/" between lines, or is it preferable to just write out the poem as I would otherwise? Is it okay if I put the transcription below a read more (some of the poems are quite long), or is that considered rude? I may be overthinking this haha, I just wanna make sure I get it right so everyone can enjoy the poems. I'm attaching two sample poems just so you can get an idea of what I'm working with—thanks in advance!

Not overthinking at all! Before anything else, let me describe the two examples you gave and then I'll put some more detailed thoughts under a read more.

[Image Description: Two screenshots of poems.

The first poem is titled "Scheheraade." It reads: Tell me about the dream where we pull the bodies out of the lake / and dress them in warm clothes again. / How it was late, and no one could sleep, the horses running / until they forget that they are horses. / It's not like a tree where the roots have to end somewhere, / it's more like a song on a policeman's radio, / how we rolled up the carpet so we could dance, and the days / were bright red, and every time we kissed there was another apple / to slice into pieces. / Look at the light through the windowpane. That means it's noon, that means / we're inconsolable. / Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us. / These, our bodies, possessed by light. / Tell me we'll never get used to it.

The second poem is titled "Having a Coke with You." It reads: is even more fun than going to San Sebastian, Irún, Hendaye, Biarritz, Bayonne / or being sick to my stomach on the Travesera de Gracia in Barcelona / partly because in your orange shirt you look like a better happier St. Sebastian / partly because of my love for you, partly because of your love for yoghurt / partly because of the fluorescent orange tulips around the birches / partly because of the secrecy our smiles take on before people and statuary / it is hard to believe when I'm with you that there can be anything as still / as solemn as unpleasantly definitive as statuary when right in front of it / in the warm New York 4 o'clock light we are drifting back and forth / between each other like a tree breathing through its spectacles // and the portrait show seems to have no faces in it at all, just paint / you suddenly wonder why in the world anyone ever did them // I look / at you and I would rather look at you than all the portraits in the world / except possibly for the Polish Rider occasionally and anyway it's in the Frick / which thank heavens you haven't gone to yet so we can go together the first time / and the fact that you move so beautifully more or less takes care of Futurism / just as at home I never think of the Nude Descending a Staircase or / at a rehearsal a single drawing of Leonardo or Michelangelo that used to wow me / and what good does all the research of the Impressionists do them / when they never got the right person to stand near the tree when the sun sank / or for that matter Marino Marini when he didn't pick the rider as carefully / as the horse // it seems they were all cheated of some marvellous experience / which is not going to go wasted on me which is why I'm telling you about it.

End Image Description.]

Now, obviously I went with the traditional academic rules for quoting poems in the above ID, and I did that because the location of line breaks can be very important in poetry, and that's not always going to translate with a screen reader if you just format it that way. Additionally, if you have someone who sight reads but needs to make the text large, this will often change the location of the line breaks.

I don't know of a good or natural way to convey the right-aligned text in some places via a text description, but if any of my followers do, please feel free to comment!

Capitalization, punctuation, and even font choice are all things that can potentially convey significant meaning in poetry. I opted not to attempt to transcribe those in the above two, but if you're more familiar with the poem and thing those aspects are important in context, you could always make a note about the capitalization. And for things like italics, you could do something like "except possibly for the [italics] Polish Rider [end italics] occasionally and anyway it's in the Frick."

Punctuation is also a tricky one...I tried to keep the description as true to the text as possible, because the lack of punctuation in the second poem defintely seemed very intentional and internal to the flow, but I did add a period at the end of the last poem to give a proper stop between the end of the poem and the "end image description." Your call on how you deal with that, just be aware that not all screen readers are going to pause between lines or paragraphs.

I would generally discourage putting descriptions under a read more, though I do very much understand the concern about length. The formal poem quoting rules above can help condense things space-wise, if that helps.

I also want to encourage alt text! Don't put the entire poem in the alt text of course, but if you put a little blurb in the alt text of each picture, that can signal to screen reader users that it's worth their time to continue down the post. Some screen reader users will simply skip the post entirely when they start hearing "photo, photo, photo," and never even get to the image ID, since it's often not there. Such a blurb could be something like "Screenshot of the poem Scheheraade. See body of post for full description" for the first photo, and "Screenshot of the poem Having a Coke with You. See body of post for full description" for the second.

And finally, just to throw it out there, you don't necessarily have to do a traditional image description the way I did, especially if you provide the supplementary alt text. You could simply transcript the poems too...it's all up to you!

Please feel free to reach out to me if you have any more questions, I'm defintely going to follow, this is such a neat idea.

Oh, and one more thing: don't be afraid to let AI help you with this! And I'm not talking about the neural network kind, I'm talking about good old-fashioned optical character recognition. For example, I plugged that first poem into onlineocr.net and got this:

Scheheraade Tell me about the dream where we pull the bodies out of the lake and dress them in warm clothes again. How it was late, and no one could sleep, the horses running until they forget that they are horses. It's not like a tree where the roots have to end somewhere, it's more like a song on a policeman's radio, how we rolled up the carpet so we could dance, and the days were bright red, and every time we kissed there was another apple to slice into pieces. Look at the light through the windowpane. That means it's noon, that means we're inconsolable. Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us. These, our bodies, possessed by light. Tell me we'll never get used to it.

Sure, it required proofreading, a bit of clean up, and of course the line/stanza breaks, but made the process of creating the image description much less effort than it would have taken to type it all out manually. Of course, if you have access to a text version of the poem, that could work even better, but this is a great way to do it if you only have access to the image for whatever reason!

[jaeharu26]

: / Man. I'm really gonna have to stop following Sakimichan and Zumidraws huh.... This content they're making now just... really isn't for me... what a fucking shame... I used to like their art so much... but yeah I just can't really get behind these p*rno comics they're both doing now... whether they're 'aging up' these characters for them or not anymore... I guess their fanbases just really wanted this stuff now huh... kinda glad I didn't enjoy doing aged-up pinups myself and that didn't take off for me, don't think I could do comics like this if I had to... just yeah, not for me... Gotta say I'm a bit disappointed. I really had looked up to both of them so much. How far they were able to take their art and how popular they both got. Guess I'm more of a prude than I thought. : / Maybe I'm just too old now, I just really don't wanna see young characters in situations like that smh. Feel a bit like a hypocrite since I still paint nude pinups but yeah, it really is just the ages of these characters that bother me so much... : /

[vellichor-of-the-solivagant]

How to Plant Snapdragons | 3

Task Force 141, Keegan & Konig x Female Criminal!Reader

Previous Chapter / Masterlist

CONTENT WARNING: Strong Language WORD COUNT: 3k

A hand slammed on the table across you, and Kyle's booming voice echoed in the dining hall. "I've heard of the news!"

You sat with Johnny, while the Lieutenant was on the other side, where Gaz had also pulled himself a seat. You had your usual bright and smiley face that could rival the sun. You seemed as though you had just successfully run away from the base, skipping on some puddles.

You faced Gaz and smirked, knowing that your glorious feat had traveled the speed of light across this realm of gunpowder and tanks.

There weren't many people in the place, considering it was late afternoon, but it already seemed night because of the dark sky. You had changed clothes and eaten a portion of food before your superiors got to find you after you managed to slip away from them again. There were only a handful of soldiers scattered in the hall—considering it was a couple of hours past lunch—chatting their free time away and keeping their ears and eyes sharp for gossip. Gossip meant you.

You kept your legs crossed the entire time, in an attempt to hide the monitor. Every time it beeped and lighted up, you couldn't help but cringe. You hated being the center of attention and this thing that technically screams, 'Hey, keep your eyes on me, I might drive a tank into the base, uwu! Or I’m going to steal a bird and go HASTA LA VISTA BITCHES AND BROS AND NON-BINARY HOES IMMA GO HELICOPTER HELICOPTER!’ made it worse.

Except you didn’t know shit how to drive those things.

(That can’t stop you)

"Heard you got four combos," Kyle said, leaning over the table. "Two critical hits on each ball, eh?"

Ghost made a face under his mask, rolling his eyes. "Fuckin' hell."

"Aye, and a knock-out for his dignity," Soap shook his head with a couple of clicks of his tongue. "Poor guy vomited in the gym after the bloody massacre of his future children."

You giggled at his comment and shifted your gaze back down to the sheets of paper you had finally stolen. If it can be called that because the Lt. and Soap were staring at you the entire time you snatched them, along with a pen for fuck's sake in Price's office, before bouncing.

"I was planning on teaching the kid a lesson but . . . what the fuck are you—" Johnny glanced over his shoulder, wide eyes darting around the canteen before setting them back on the papers you focused on. You were drawing a bunch of nude dudes, not even hesitating to add nipples and balls and dicks—why were they so big, though? "Why are ya drawing that?!" He yelled in a whisper, his large hands covering your paper.

Both Ghost and Gaz peered over the gaps between his fingers and looked away the moment they saw someone else's balls. Then, Gaz quickly put his hand over the rest of your drawings his fellow Sergeant couldn't cover as a soldier passed by your table.

"Anatomy?" You waved a hand, raised a brow, and shook your head as though he didn't get something so obvious. "Renaissance art?"

Soap frowned at you. "I'm pretty sure Renaissance paintings don't have this much nudity, and they surely weren't holdin’ one another's cocks and lookin’ like they’re enjoying it!”

"Well, yes and no, sir." You tried to push their hands away but fuck those muscles staying like fucking statues. "Wanna know why nudity was common during that era? It is to revive Roman and Greek art, which focuses on the human body and nature. And they believe that without any clothing, they can see the purest form of the human body."

"That still doesn't explain that they're fucking holding—"

"Shush!" You put a hand over Kyle's face. "They're feeling each other's pureness, Gaz. They're feeling each other."

"The fuck—"

You slapped your other hand over Soap's mouth, gazing intently at him. "It's called an art style, Soap. An art style. A preference.”

"Well, other than ya have a peculiar preference, your drawings are well mint," Ghost claimed as he carefully took one of your drawings under Kyle’s hand and closely took in the details of the person you drew. The shadows and shades on the man’s visage made it seem like it was a photograph of a marble statue, which made him feel as though he was standing before it. You flawlessly captured the feelings and emotions—a life that he didn’t know would be possible with a pen.

He put it down and slid it back to you. “What did ya take in college?”

You brought your hands down from the sergeants’ faces and picked up the pen. “I was an engineering student." You spun the pen between your fingers and looked down at your drawing with a small smile.

Also, what the fuck is ‘well mint’?

"And what got a bloody engineering student in prison?” Kyle questioned in a low voice. “Can’t be the one I heard around.”

Ghost glanced at him with a frown, while Soap glared at him, shaking his head as a warning, and Gaz in response, made an ‘o’ with his mouth, nodding.

“I blew up the university because the Dean said if the campus caught fire, she would let everyone pass,” You said, which made their heads whip in your direction in an instant, while you started to sketch on a clean sheet. “I was desperate for a good grade, but I didn’t know the Dean would be in her office as the fire spread.”

Johnny gaped at you in disbelief. “Bloody hell, for a grade?”

Gaz raised a brow. “Seriously?”

You snorted. “No.”

Both the sergeants made a face, whereas Ghost let out a low scoff.

“But I have truly always cared for grades,” you started again, “even though they say high grades aren’t everything and they are just numbers, I used to think they were everything. Then, whenever I see people partying around in clubs, I begin to get jealous of them because they seem free like they don’t have anything to worry about.” You glanced at them and found they were listening attentively, so you continued. “One night, I said screw this shit and went in a club.”

“Well, sometimes, ya just have to let loose, you know?” Soap said, leaning back against the chair. “We also go to the pub once in a while to drink.”

“And all hell breaks loose,” Ghost claimed, eyeing Soap knowingly.

Your brows raised. Oh?

“Shut up, Lt.” He glared at him, pouting a bit, which Ghost ignored. Then, Soap put his elbow on the table and propped his chin on his palm, then turned his head to you. “So, ya went to the club?”

“Yeah, met a couple of guys,” you copied his actions, “seduced those couple of guys.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Had a sloppy make-out in the bathroom.”

“Damn, aren’t ya fast?” Gaz asked, smiling.

You turned to him. “Went to the hotel . . . and drunk their blood.”

Soap straightened up in a blink. “Awa' an’ bile yer heid. I thought it was real this time!”

“Oh, damn it.” Gaz slapped the table.

You laughed, throwing your head back in amusement.

Ghost crossed his arms, tilting his head a bit. “You have your way with stories, don’t you?”

“I’m an avid fan of fiction. Either I write it or read it. It’s a way for me to escape reality.” You tapped on one of your sketches. “And if I can’t read or write it, I draw it. Although, sometimes, it also stresses me out when I can’t get things right.” You sighed, furrowing your brows lightly.

They stared at you for a moment, then shared glances, silently deciding it was believable enough, considering your request for books to Laswell and your eagerness to draw.

“Alright, what’s next?” Gaz spoke, motioning a hand. “You found a doll that turned out to be alive and a killing machine.”

You grinned, placing your pen down and riding along his joke. “Preyed on a bunch of children, led them in a sewer with candies and balloons.”

“Isn’t that Chucky and It?” Johnny asked, raising a brow.

“Didn’t expect you famous gentlemen would know those movies.” You nodded in acknowledgment and pointed at him. “Well, your turn.”

“A doll ya found in the basement of yer new house turned out to be possessed,” Soap fired, pointing back at me. “Why is it always dolls, though?”

You shrugged.

“Scared of dolls, Soap?” Gaz wiggled his brows with a teasing smile.

His fellow sergeant rolled his eyes. “The fuck I would be.”

Then, the three of you faced Ghost, who had remained silent and still on his chair. His eyes went back and forth between you three before he sighed. “Ya killed people with a chainsaw.”

You three nodded at him and you commented, “Classic.” Before you could say another word, you noticed Simon finishing something out of his pockets, a phone that you oh-so wanted to still just so you could read some fanfictions on the net. Soap and Gaz followed his actions.

At this rate, you were just going to make your own fanfiction to keep your sanity.

“Come on.” Soap nudged at you and stood up, making the chair creak.

The fun finally lasted and seemed something that you dreaded to do came sooner than expected.

You gathered and rolled your drawings carefully, and stuck the ballpen onto your bun, before following them out of the chow hall.

Laswell’s voice echoed from the laptop on Captain Price’s table, and you and the 141 stood in front of it, listening to the intel she had gathered. The map of Brazil appeared on the screen, making you raise a brow as it zoomed onto the mountains, which were covered in houses instead of nature.

“Supposedly our target, Fabrício, is in his base in Rio de Janeiro, we’ll finally be able to know his deals with Hassan.” Price crossed his arms and glanced at the rest of the group. “However, there’ll be mostly likely civilians around the area, so we have to watch our fire.”

“Rio de Janeiro . . .” You mumbled and put your fingers under your chin, which caught their attention. You faced the Captain, who had a questioning look at you. “Uh,” you raised a hand as though you were going to answer a teacher’s question, “may I say a humble suggestion?”

He nodded. “Speak.”

You gulped. “I may know some things about Rio that could bring us advantages."

Ghost fully turned his body at you. “What’re ya getting at?”

“During this time of the year, Rio holds their famous Carnival for a week every night until dawn. Millions of people go there, so their streets will be mostly empty or people will be in their houses. Yet at the same time, if you wander around at night in their streets, you’ll get targeted by criminals.” You pointed at the image of your target, a man with short curly hair and dark skin. “If that guy deals with international transactions, he’ll be most likely a boss of the local outlaws and militia or protected by them. So, at times of major events like this, eyes will be off them and they’ll be able to move freely.” You brought your hand down. “But so can we.”

Price’s brows furrowed a bit and he looked at the map on the screen. “That’s . . . good thinking.” He tapped on the pad of the laptop and said, “Laswell, I’d like to—”

“Damn, lassie, how’d you know that?” Johnny questioned, a grin appearing on his lips as he put his arm around your shoulders again.

Meanwhile, Price proceeded to discuss the changes in the mission with Kate.

“I’m pretty interested in Rio because of the Carnival, yeah, and the statue of Christ the Redeemer and their beaches.” You crossed your arms to stop yourself from wrapping your arms around him as well and take the chance to squeeze his chest, biceps, and cakes. “Also, they are famous for being good at football and beach volleyball. I used to play some sports during my school days and they’re one of those.”

“Well,” Gaz also dropped his arm around you, but on your lower back, making you gulp, “aren’t you talented, miss? Wouldn’t be surprised if you're pretty famous on your campus.”

You sighed. “Don’t call me ‘miss’, and no, I’m not famous. I like solitude to be honest."

Soap pulled you a bit closer. “Ah, like the Lieutenant until he shows off his skills, aye?”

“I am not a show-off.” Ghost glared at you three. “Also, there are several disadvantages to your strategy.”

“Yessir.” You nodded and the sergeants let go of you. You raised three of your fingers. “The target is in their home ground, they know the place like the back of their hand and the difference between our numbers."

"And that's exactly why we have a backup,” Price declared in a serious voice, followed by beeps coming from the laptop which caught your attention, and General Shepherd’s profile popped out, meaning he was listening to the discussion or might be watching you without seeing him.

You pursed your lips, running your tongue through the light cracks, but kept your eyes strained on the screen. You put your hands behind you, squeezing them as hard as you could. You couldn’t miss any detail about the mission that might endanger the 141.

“We will have two teams to corner Fabrício in his base, front and back,” Laswell began once again, bright lines lighting up alleyways on the map, leading up to the mountains of houses. The first profiles to appear in bright boxes were Ghost and Soap. “Bravo team will go through this street.” Then, the Captain, Gaz, and finally, yours, appeared on the screen following a green line. “And the Alpha team will go this way.”

You let out a silent sigh in relief, yet at the same time in disappointment. You’d like to enjoy the calmness of the Captain and Gaz, and their light jokes, but you also wanted to go ape shit with Soap and make dad jokes along the way with Ghost. But what irked you more was the picture of you they used—with the eyebags and pimples. Couldn’t they put a better one for fuck’s sake?

Then, a familiar American’s profile came into view, along with several men in one box, making you frown and yell thousands of curses in your head. “Once we have Fabricio, the Shadow Company will help subdue the militia, and Nikolai will go around in helo for exfil.” As soon as Kate finished explaining, she and the General popped out in a split screen.

“Most importantly, we want Fabrício alive for interrogation,” Shepherd concluded, serious eyes darting at the 141, then settled on you. “And how are you?”

It was hard to put on pants with the monitor on. The food wasn’t any better than in prison. People thought you were a threat to be burned alive if you did something wrong before them. People thought you were a piece of meat. A dog to tame. A whore for trying to become close with the 141. A woman who knew nothing but play around.

Yet you smiled at him, despite all the thoughts that rushed to your mind. Curses that you wanted to scream at him. “Still trying to get used to things around here, sir.” You squeezed your hands, nails digging into your skin.

Gaz glanced at you and noticed your stiffness. He kept his face expressionless, seeing how you looked, and slowly, his eyes made their way to your hands.

Meanwhile, Ghost walked and sauntered behind Price's desk, keeping his eyes on the back of the laptop.

“Really?” He leaned back in his chair, head tilting to the side. “I thought you easily adapt to different environments. Has Laswell spoiled you?”

Fuck him.

“I did not do such a thing, General,” Laswell was quick to retort, a sigh escaping her lips.

She, in fact, did. But that was a story for other times.

You forced out a laugh, flowing along her lie. “If she had, she would have given me a phone, sir.”

Shepherd nodded in acknowledgment. “Very well. I hope 141 is treating you well?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but Soap was faster to speak. “Of course, sir. Now we know one of the reasons why ye pulled her out of prison.” He put a hand on your shoulder, a bright grin appearing on his handsome face, yet you kept your eyes on the bald eagle. “She’s a fun one.”

You clenched your hands harder and planted your nails deeper. Motherfucking hell, Soap, don’t call me fun.

As though spiders crawled down your skin, you shivered.

With Soap's hand still on your shoulder, he felt you shudder.

Shepherd smiled, something that you didn't expect to see. "I see. But I did not put her in the 141 so you could have some fun."

"Ah, yes sir," Soap removed his hand from you and felt a twitch under his eye, "I'm just saying that—"

"She's a criminal, Sergeant Mactavish. The only reason she's out is because she'll be able to help 141. She's a tool you can use, and she knows that herself. So, make sure she continues being good and obedient." With that, his voice went static and soon faded, his picture disappearing from the laptop's screen.

"We will discuss the mission again later on," Laswell quickly filled the silence. "Take care, all of you."

"Thank you, Kate," Price said, turning the laptop in his direction.

"Anytime."

The Captain shut the laptop closed.

Next Chapter / Archive of Our Own

Taglist: @yyiikes, @the-faceless-bride, @sae1kie

[radiodread]

Hey! I just saw your tags on that post about nude European statues and how Americans are so sensitive and scandalized by nudity. Idk if you mean this sarcastically or not but in case you didn’t, nude art isn’t censored in American museums. There’s Greek statues and renaissance paintings and everything on full display. However, museums are really the only places where you will see that. There aren’t statues and stuff like there are in Italy, for example.

And as for why Americans are Like That, well, there’s a lot of reasons. But if we wanna go way back - we were founded by Puritans…. who aren’t exactly known for their proclivity towards the arts, and more known for things like the salem witch trials. And not having any joy in your life on purpose lest you sin about it. And despite everything that culture still kinda stuck around…

So once you factor in all that it makes sense.

Sorry if this is coming off as rude, also. That’s not my intention, I just want to inform.

Hiya! Oh yeah part of my tags were definitely sarcastic, yeah 😂 I like to poke fun at America/Americans especially in cases like these where you hear people screeching 'cause they saw a titty peeking out whereas here in Europe, a lot of beaches are totes okay with people walking around topless. It's all in good fun until it gets scary and that's when I go "yikes". :P

Okay but that's kinda what I figured; there won't be, like, fountains with statues of naked little boys peeing into them like in Brussels (I have a fridge magnet of that particular, uh, 'icon' of Belgium or at least Brussels? 😂)

No worries at all, I don't take offence and didn't find it rude, just informative! I guess this is what you'd call a culture shock, hahaha.

[aranysziv]

M: Like twins... the monstera and me :D D: Yes, but one of the two is my favourite just now... ;) M: ... I hope you have a good choice then! :D D: Always, haha M: So... let's talk about the serious things... Murals? :) D: Yeah. Are there any murals here too? M: Not that nice you make... :) Anyway, yes, but just a few D: Looking forward to see them... M: Yeah. I can show you my favourite one, wait. This, you see!!! The girl just reads the book, and the shadows behind her like... like the characters of the story, but not really are there with her. The boy and the girl. The book is about love for sure! And the shadows, they almost kiss!!! Aww, I love it every time I see it :) D: It's very nice, you also have an excellent choice :D Do you live here, in Budapest? M: Yes. And you? Where did you came from? D: North of Italy... in the middle of nowhere, haha M: Hmm.. I can speak only one sentence in Italian! D: ? M: Sei tutto per me :) D: Haha, and you know what that means? :D M: Yes... You don't know me yet, but I'm a realllllllly romantic girl - if it still exists nowadays... D: The old fashioned romantic? M: The old fashioned romantic, exactly! What else? :D

D: I think it's a very nice thing nowadays :) M: Well, yes, but sometimes it isn't so easy. But I guess this is why it is so nice, haha... :) so... did you grow up there? The North of Italy? D: Yes, I was born and raised there. But I would like to paint around the world one day M: I think the world will be a much better place with all your paintings all over :) I would give you all the walls in Budapest, if I could. I like your goal! D: Oooo... it is a beautiful compliment! I'm out of the blue completely, my heart just stopped for a minute! M: I mean it! :) I saw them, your art, and I just think wao... that's incredible. How did you became an artist? You're not that older than me. D: I will be 34 in April. I started painting at a very young age, then I graduated from the Academy of Fine Arts, where I am a professor now. M: That's so cool. Do you like teaching? D: I love it. But I have other projects as well, like this. If we finish here, I just go back to my studio and start drawing again. M: Can I see it? D: Unfortunately, no... it's top secret. M: I don't tell anyone, I promise! :) But I'm really curious because I saw just the murals you make, not that drawings D: Well, I'm only doing studies on nudes M: Oh... I... I didn't know, sorry D: There is nothing to apologize for. Maybe one day you will see the result :) M: I hope so :) D: It's not easy. I've been thinking about this idea for a very long time, but it's really hard to put it into practice, you know M: Why? D: It is also difficult to explain as well as to draw... :D M: Haha, don't stress, no problem. D: You know, you're just one of a kind who can give me inspiration. M: Really? Why? :D I didn't do anything. D: Yeah, but still, haha. You have a very nice body, I would be blind if I can't see it, and you just have a strange but very good sparkle in your eyes. Your aura or I don't really know, but there's something in you what is special. This conversation is just so easy with you, not like with the others.

M: Ahhh... no... no... You're such an Italian man... That is exactly the famous Italian awareness of life, haha :D Not in a hard mode, but you just keep complimenting me and making me so shy. I don't wanna be a stereotyped girl, but you are all these things: you love cooking, eating and of course, I heard you before!!! The AMORE... that's all about, YOU said it, the love - I understand it. And all, everything about like... yeah, that the French called "joie de vivre" :D

D: Maybe you're right. But don't forget: you complimented me too. And I mean every word I said. Every sentence, haha :D M: You're such an idiot. But... thank you so much. It means a lot to me, really. So... I give you inspiration. But we just met! :DDD D: I know :D It sounds silly, but you're driving me crazy! :D M: By this time? :D D: Yes, haha M: I think it's probably my record. I don't know what to say... :D I'm just smiling like a dork. It's very difficult to be your muse at this point. And how many minutes have we been talking? :D

ebben a pillanatban jöttek vissza a többiek. de minden így kezdődött. vagy nagyjából így. meg akartam ezt őrizni magamnak. egy idő után mindenki felejt, még én is. de most még úgy emlékszem ezekre a szavakra, mintha csak tegnap történtek volna. és még mindig mosolyt csalnak az arcomra. néha ennyi is elég.

[cepheusgalaxy]

I present you: (*caham* tw nonsexual nudity because i really didn't draw clothes all the time back then)

Image descritption: A digital drawing of the bust shot of a girl with short curly black hair, big brown eyes, tiny nose and no mouth. She wears a pink-ish orange shirt. In the background is a blue and yellow mandala, and the drawing has no outline. /end ID

Omg i remember this one I was trying out another drawing program I forgot what was

May 2021 - this one was supposed to be a self portrait.

Image description: A digital drawing of a darkskinned character with a fox tail and ears, nude, growling to the viewer on all fours. One of their eyes is light blue, the other is orange, and their hair is also bright orange with red bangs. The background is transparent. /end ID.

I had so much trouble with this one. I remember sketching down this pose like three times.

August 2021 - Art of my Gacha Life oc

Image description: Digital drawing of the headshot of a black elf with no face. They have short black curly hair, a thick neck, pointy chin, and wear a very tight red shirt. The background is a mix of random pastel-color strokes and floating red stripes. /end ID.

This one was A Phase

March 2021 - If I remember well this was also an oc I had. I was in a time I really didn't wanna do faces

Image description: Headshot digital drawing of the same character as above, still with no face, their head tilted implying they are looking up. Their skin is slighty warmer and lighter than in the image above. The background is divided in a dark red half and a white half, making an S division between them that resembles the yingyang simble. There are outlined red spots that look like rose petals one each sideof the background.

Same oc

March 2021 - do i need to say anything

Image description: Full-body digital drawing of a girl with short and volumous violet hair sitting in an orange surface that looks like a cube, reading a book. They wear a red longsleeved shirt and light green jeans. A shadow covers half of them and in the far background are yellow buildings. /end ID.

I remember this one particularly well. I like this one.

December 2021 - this was like one of the most complex poses I did back then

Image description: A digital drawing of the same elf character as before, now with braids framing their head. They are sitting, naked, with their knees close to their chest in a field of grass at night. There is a mountain in the background and their hair is glowing. There are colorful clouds in the sky and little sparkles in the ground and the mountain. /end ID.

Same oc

March 2021 - No comments.

Image description: A drawing of a girl with dark skin, straight red long hair and a green dress staring into the distance. Their ear is unproportionally big and they have little pink circles for blush in their cheeks. There is a blob of yellow color behind them as a background. /end ID.

Now this one, this one was my obra-prima. I remember painting all this shit in grayscale and then using low-opacity colors over it and also spending a while on this hair. This was the peak of my old digital drawings. Enjoy

March 2021 - This one stands out against the others in that march lmao

GUYS

I was switching stuff from Google Photos to a new account

And i found my first digital drawings ever

Do y'all wanna see it

[lokiinlovewithweasleys]

They Should See

Ginny Weasley x fem!reader

Warnings: smut, pornstar!au, modern!au

a/n: I don't know what this is, sorry

Summary: Ginny and you decide to do a live while you fuck her with your fingers

It's not like you hadn't done this before, it's just you haven't done THIS before. You and Ginny recorded yourselves having sex many, MANY times, and honestly, it became routine for you two to film you fucking each other, Ginny eating you out, you sitting on Ginny's face, etc. You posted them to your Instagram and twitter page, and in all honesty, they were big. You've both had your fair share of porno videos, but now you've both done your own thing, it wasn't a big deal really, and in the words of Ginny Weasley, "I wanna show your pretty body to everyone, they should know that I'm the only one allowed to touch this pussy" and she could've have been more right.

You set up your phone on the stand, positioning it so that your faces weren't in frame, but you could still see your bodies.

"You ready baby," you asked as you stripped of your clothes.

"Mhm, I'm all ready for you mommy," she said in a sultry tone. She was still in her matching set of purple lingerie, mind you, it might have been a few sizes small, making her look even more sexy. You sat on the couch nude, motion for Ginny to turn on the live. You've never done one of these before, especially like this. You both just had to enjoy yourselves.

She sat herself on your lap, you teased her through her panties, making sure she was wet before you slipped in your fingers. You removed her panties and spread both your legs open, making sure her pussy was still in view. You dipped 2 fingers into her cunt and began slowly moving them before increasing your pace. Ginny was moaning loudly, grabbing onto you for support, trying to make it even more exaggerated for the viewers, but it wasnt hard after you added a third finger into her. She was screaming, her hips bucking to get more friction. "Ginny" you drawled out, "everytime you move those fucking hips, I'm gonna go even faster, got that bunny" She whines in response, you didn't like that, she had a mouth and she knows how to use it.

"What was that bunny, answer mommy's question with your words, m'kay" you said as you slapped her clit. Ginny let out a cry, "y-yes mommy, i-i know" tears built up in her eyes as you continue using your fingers at a impossible pace. You felt her get closer to her orgasm, and with a quick motion you removed your fingers and licked them clean.

She whined and let out a sob, "Oh baby, don't cry, mommy's gonna make you feel good." You dipped your fingers back into her cunt, working them and making her jerk up and her legs shake. You couldn't make out the comments, all you could focus on was your lovers pleasure, moving one hand to her breasts and massaging them through the lace, occasionally slapping her clit, making her scream and moan in both pain and pleasure.

You felt Ginny get close to her orgasm again, and not wanting to torture the poor girl, you grabbed your phone from the stand and moved it closer to her cunt, giving the viewers a closer view. "You guys see her pretty pussy, oh, oh, there she is," you cooed as you continued rubbing her clit in a soothing manner, "my baby's cumming, look at that, so pretty, painting her pussy with her cum, all fucked out just from my fingers are you" you said in a mock tone as you showed the viewers Ginny's cum, her labored breaths present in the background as cum oozed out of her pussy.

[umiarumi]

fucking three houses | ignatz victor

in the wise words of cupcakke, slurp that dick til it cum (smack my ass like a drum)

You skidded backwards as Byleth landed the finishing blow to your side. Stumbling, you let out a defeated huff and dropped your training sword, stretching your arms.

"Jeez teach, even after five years comatose, you still best me in sword-fighting. And that's meant to be my thing!" You guffawed, heavily breathing in between words. You outstretched a gloved hand to your teacher, meeting his blank stare.

"It's mine too." He said, shaking your own hand. You deadpanned before bursting into laughter again.

"You'd be right on that one, teach!" You shook your head, continuing to grin at him, retracting your hand and letting it rest on your hip.

"Your reflexes have sharpened, and your footwork is impressive. You've trained well." He complimented, at which you felt your cheeks darken.

"Ah, thanks! Any constructive criticism?" You hummed, placing the sword back into the pile.

"Yes, you need to put more strength into your strikes." He explained, replacing his own.

You nodded gratefully, looking up to the sky. The sun started to set, a few spotty clouds resting above the two of you.

"I'm turning in for the day, (Y/N). I will be in my personal quarters if you need me." He bid you goodbye before strutting off like usual. As simple as the guy was, he had this odd charm.

"Guess I'll turn in too then... nothing wrong with a stroll around the monastery!" You cheered to yourself. You wiped your sweating face with the sleeve of your top before sauntering off.

~~~~

As you walked alongside the grassy plains of the monastery outskirts, you spotted a small green figure crouching in the distance. You could barely spot them among all the spurts of long grass decorating the land. You walked slowly as to avoid startling them, squinting to see what the hell it was they were doing. On further examination, you recognised that choppy, blonde head of hair.

Continuing to saunter to his destination, you soon picked out exactly what it was he was doing. Painting! You two had talked about your secret hobbies, your own being reading. You smiled at the thought, remembering how shocked each of you was to each other's hobby. You thought you had a pretty strong bond with Ignatz when you returned, so now seems a good time to have a chat!

You approached behind him quietly, taking time to, for once, keep your voice at a low volume.

"Uh, hi Ignatz!" You whisper yelled, flinching as the dirty blonde jumped in surprise. He turned around, breathing a sigh of relief after registering who it was.

"Oh! It's just you, (Y/N). You shocked me, haha!" He nervously greeted you, fidgeting with his paintbrush.

You grinned, waving at him. "Sorry man, I tried not to scare ya!" You chuckled bashfully, before sitting down next to him.

"So, whatcha painting and how are ya doing, Ignatz?" You asked, looking over to him curiously.

His gaze landed on your own, his earthy eyes seeming to be stuck to your own, a tension almost bubbling.

He shook his head, smiling softly at you.

"Ah, simply the view. It really is quite mesmerising in the evening, wouldn't you agree?" Enthusiasm built in his tone as he explained, his soft smile turning into a gleeful grin, matching your own.

You nodded, giving him a thumbs up. "I agree! I never really took time to take in the sights of the monastery, but now that I've matured... yeah, it really is a beautiful place, huh?" You hummed, looking off to the villages surrounding the base of the mountainous terrain.

He simply hummed to your question. "You're right (Y/N), you've really matured." He complimented, at least, that's what you hoped.

You gave a short laugh, scratching your neck. "Yeah, thanks! I used to be a rowdy one, but I think the past few years have smoothed some of the edges. Not all of 'em though!" You cheered, tilting your head appreciatively. You looked to him, catching his lingering gaze. His face heated up slightly, nodding to you.

"If you don't mind, I uh, have a request..." He mumbled, refusing to meet your eye. He pushed his glasses back, taking a quick peek at your face. If you blinked you would've missed it, he seemed so shy right now!

"Sure thing! If it isn't gold or assassination plans, I'm open!" You beamed, leaning in to hear what he had to ask.

He chuckled anxiously at your response. Even after knowing you for such a long time, having a girl so close to him was nerve-wracking.

"Nothing of the sort, don't worry. I was wondering, well, may I paint your likeness?" He muttered quietly, his heart stammering. His stomach drops after a few seconds of silence before daring to peek at the mystery of what your expression could be.

However, he was pleasantly surprised at what he saw. Your face was dark, lips pursed tight in a taught smile. You stuttered as you replied.

"Y-you wanna paint me! For real?! This is such an honour, seriously, thank you Ignatz!"

Ignatz gasped, anticipating anything but your reaction.

"Oh really, it's no worries!" He waved his hand dismissively, his own face reddening like a tomato.

The two of you continued to throw gratefulness at each other for what seemed like forever until you found yourselves at his dorm.

~~~~

"Well Ignatz, what kind of painting would you like to make?" You asked, sitting on a plush, velvet stool in his room. You looked around the place, noting the birthday flowers from Byleth, the spare easels and art supplies.

"Well, whatever you'd like truly, as long as I may paint you." He answered, humbly smiling and looking down at you.

You smirked, raising a brow. "How about a nude painting then?" You asked teasingly, crossing your legs.

He smiled at the idea. "Oh, what a good idea! I haven't had many references for the female anatomy and I've always been interested in..." The colour seemed to drain from his face as he realised just exactly what you suggested.

You stifled a chuckle, watching him stutter and rush to speak.

"O-oh! I didn't realise, no, I mean of course I would love to! Ah, that's too forward, no um... I don't want to pressure you, argh!" The colour which had left soon returned in the form of a crimson storm.

You laughed, shaking your head.

"Ignatz, really, it's no worries. I would genuinely not mind, I'm happy to as long as you are." You attempted to calm him down, smiling.

He took a deep breath, nodding.

"Then, yes. We're both adults now, there's no need to freak out." He seemed to try to convince himself rather than you.

"Exactly!" You smiled, standing up. "Alright, I'll undress now." You hummed, thinking.

You had already teased him by suggesting a nude painting, and stripping in front of the blushing boy... you could make this fun for yourself. And maybe even both of them. Claude may have just had a point.

You held his gaze as you unclasped your armour, placing it down on his desk, avoiding the parchment and sketches.

Next, you untied your cropped top, letting it fall to the floor leaving only your bodice on your upper half.

Undoing your bra, you broke his gaze for a moment only to look back immediately. His body seemed to stiffen, in more ways than one, once he caught sight of your breasts slightly bouncing as you stopped stretching.

You wiggled out of your puffed pants, sitting back down to pull them all the way off along with your boots and leggings.

"Nearly there!" You huffed, as you stood back up, shedding your underwear.

By then, Ignatz' face had erupted into a furious blush. His eyes lingered all too long on your exposed vagina, causing you to grin teasingly as he met your gaze.

"Now, shall we?" You asked, sitting upon the comforting stool once more.

He seemed to snap out of his daze at those words, tugging on his coat. Pulling out his desk chair, he set it in front of you. Pulling his easel across the room, the slight scratching of wood against wood was the sole sound of the tension-filled room.

Setting a canvas down, he seemed to take a few deep breaths before grabbing a pencil.

"How would you like me to pose?" You asked, smiling. This could be interesting.

"Oh, yes, uh, however you'd like to, really!" He stumbled upon his words, before finally holding your gaze.

"Got it." You responded. How could you tease him further? As you contemplated, you finally came across a decision. You leant one leg over another, giving him a subtle view of your exposed cunt.

You raised your arm, letting your gloved hand sit beneath your chin. Your upper arm pressed against your left breast, giving you slight cleavage, You gave him your signature cheeky grin, before raising a brow.

Speaking through your teeth, you asked him a question. "How's this?"

"J-j-just perfect!" He stuttered, shutting his eyes tight before reopening them and focusing.

"Now, hold that pose for me?" He asked, finally confident and contained. At least, on the outside.

You were content with holding your pose, as long as you could continue to tease him after he finished his sketch was your real goal. Whether or not anything transpired... well, you'd be lying if you said you didn't want anything to.

As you waited, you watched Ignatz' face morph into one of pure concentration, reminding you of how admirable he was. Despite his preference to stay on the quiet side of things, he was a talented man. Both on the battlefield and in the artistic field.

Minutes passed until Ignatz' face settled into a satisfied smile, signifying his completion of the sketch. You grinned wider at this, his face was adorable when he was proud!

"Thank you, (Y/N)." He thanked you. Refusing to look in your direction, he was reminded of the tightness in his pants.

"No, thank you, Ignatz! Actually... it had me wondering... may you do a favour for me?" Your voice dropped into a whisper, so his gaze fell upon your figure. Your eyelids drooped as a sultry smile fell upon your lips.

He gulped at this, yet nodding nonetheless. "Anything."

"Wonderful." You commented pleasantly. Standing up, you sauntered towards him. Aware of his gaze dropping to your softly bouncing tits as you took confident strides towards him.

Once right in front of him, looking down upon his still seated form you grinned.

"Let me... repay the favour you did for me?" You asked, tilting your head, curious.

He swallowed nervously once more, before nodding shyly. He fiddled with his hands, struggling to meet your gaze.

"How... how would you like to do so?" He mumbled, occasionally peeking up at your towering form.

"Well, if I put it bluntly... let me please you." You deadpanned, the loose smirk on your lip tugging back into place on your face, cheeks steadily growing rosier.

His face officially became a competitor for ripest tomato, and he nodded excitedly.

"Please... do." He muttered.

Your lazy smirk grew into a full-on grin. Quickly, you dropped to your knees.

He gasped at the inclination of your actions, his jaw staying dropped as you worked his pants downwards.

You slid his undergarments off, his cock bouncing free of its strained containment.

You licked a stripe up his cock, leaving a trail of saliva in your wake. He shuddered, a slight moan escaping his taught lips.

You gave a kiss to the bulbous, pink head of his dick before letting it slip in between your mouth.

His breath shuttered as you began to work a continuous up-and-down rhythm on his cock.

He gasped in time with each bob of your head, his hand slowly reaching its way to the back of your head. He looked down to check with you for permission, and you winked, giving your best inclination of consent.

And with that, he began to thrust into your mouth and push your head at the same time. God, he was insanely fast and rough, but you controlled your erratic throat muscles. It was pretty damn hot, especially for a guy so shy.

Your hand snaked down to your dripping pussy, the situation you orchestrated obviously having an effect on yourself. Not a negative one though, not at all.

You harshly began to rub your clit, not bothered with dragging it out. You were looking to climax, and by the sounds of Ignatz, he was too.

As you rubbed your sensitive bud, you moaned around his dick. The vibrations caused Ignatz to shudder, closing his eyes tightly.

"I'm gonna cum! Ah, (Y/N) you're making me cum!" He moans, groaning as you felt his cock still, and as the warm, bitter burst of cum in your mouth exploded, so did you. Your pussy clenched around emptiness, yet the throbbing in your clit as you orgasmed satisfied you all the same.

Your head slipped off his softening dick, a pleased smile settling on your face as you swallowed. As bitter as it was, you had nowhere else to hide the evidence.

"Thank you, Y/N)... that was... so good." He whispered, giving you a sweet smile. He leant down and kissed the top of your head and you chuckled.

"But I must ask, is that what you were learning whilst you were gone for so long?"

"Ignatz!?"