#and she needed some variety in her wardrobe

[wearebarca]

8. Captured // Alexia Putellas x Original character pt. 8

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7

synopsis: Rosalie has never stayed somewhere too long. When the opportunity of a lifetime presents itself at critical moment in her life, the photographer decides to once again leave behind what she knows and joins the staff of Europe's best football team.

Word count: 6,1k

Warnings: 18+ Smut

A/N: Feedback is always nice. Spanish is from google translate so please be nice. French is my first language so all should be good on that part. Enjoy

Rosalie knew all about stress. She had experienced a very wide variety of stressful situations. From race days to big games to work related situations, even personal stuff. But right now, sitting half naked in her bed with an array of clothes around her, Rosalie was experiencing a different type of stress. 

She had spent time with some of the girls from the team but it always was in very casual circumstances. Tonight was different. They were set to go to a popular club in downtown Barcelona and from what she had translated in the groupchat, the girls were excited to show off their outfits. Rosalie wasn’t a big fan of clubs and bars and her wardrobe cruelly lacked in any club worthy outfits.

She was currently stuck between a few options but after sending each outfit to her groupchat with lia and leah, she settled for a short sleeve dress that exposed her back dangerously low. She left her wavy hair loose and did her makeup slightly darker than usual. 

She was taking one last look into her bedroom mirror, feeling quite proud of the way it all turned out, when her phone rang and Keira’s name lit up her screen. 

“Bonsoir petite merde.” She said laughing, knowing damn well that the blonde did not know what she had just called her. Lucy’s laugh could be heard in the distance, which told the brunette that the couple was likely close and calling to let her know. 

“That was unnecessary.”

“Don’t act like you know what I just said.”

“Lucy’s reaction told me plenty.” Keira said exasperated. “We’re rounding the corner, the bar is a block from here so we’ll park in your street and walk from there is that alright?”

“Sounds good.” Rosalie said, putting away her makeup. 

“We’re coming up so you better be dressed and ready.” Lucy said, the sound of a car door audible in the background. 

“Oui madame.” The Canadian said before hanging up. A few minutes later, the couple barged in her little flat, and the sound of her cabinets being opened and glasses being set down on the counter was heard all around. 

“By all means, Faites comme chez vous!”

“We're fixing you a drink, believe me you’ll need it.” Keira said, pouring an impressive amount of liquor in three glasses. She made a move to reach for the bottle of coke but the Canadian quickly stopped her. 

“Non non non. You are not wasting this perfectly good whiskey with coke.” She said, reaching for two glasses and handing one to Lucy. Keira rolled her eyes and poured some in her glass nonetheless. 

“You two are a different breed that’s for sure.” The burn from the alcohol soothed the brunette’s nerves a little as she downed her first glass with Lucy, quickly pouring another for the older woman and herself. 

“You’re packed for national camp already?” Kiera asked, eyeing the bags near the front door.

“ Oui, I have a feeling that tomorrow I won’t be in the right state to pack a proper bag.” Rosalie said, sipping at the brown liquid. 

“ Smart Frenchy, very smart. The flight is at 9 the next day, we’ll be downstairs at 6:00 and grab coffee on our way there. Sarina sent me your plane ticket by the way.” Lucy said, twirling the liquor in her glass. The French-Canadian nodded and took a seat next to the blond englishwoman. 

“So, what is the plan, how is the night going to go?” The brunette said, taking a sip of her drink. 

“We’re gonna walk to the club, it’s only three blocks away.” Lucy said, eyeing Keira up with a mischievous grin, the blond sporting a similar look. “And for the rest, you’ll have to see for yourself mate.” 

They finished their drinks and left Rosalie’s flat soon after. The air was warm  and a fresh breeze carried the smell of food from the many restaurants along with the sound of laughter and many conversation blending in the night. The streets were alive, buzzing with people, relieved for the start of the weekend. 

Someone linking their arm with hers pulled Rosalie out of her thoughts. “You look amazing Frenchy, you gunnin for someone in particular tonight?” Keira said, twirling the French-Canadian like a dancer.

“Non, non, I don’t know what you are referring to.” Rosalie said, walking slightly faster to meet Lucy ahead.

“You know,” The older English woman began, “Looking like that, the cold and composed captain’s surely gonna lose control.” She said, hugging the Canadian’s shoulder. Rosalie’s face went beat red and she pushed Lucy off of her. By now, they could hear the distant beat of music and the traffic in the streets increasing.

The club was situated on a small pedestrian side street. A long queue of people was stretched in front of the already busy club. Most of the crowd waiting looked and sounded already under the influence which worked to the little group’s advantage as they were able to make their way to the bouncer without being recognized. 

Once their little group reached the door with Lucy leading them, the bouncer stepped in front of them to block the way. Once his eyes met with Lucy’s, the realization on the young man’s face was almost comical. “Oh, yes, VIP section.” He said with a nervous falter to his voice. He crossed two names on his clipboard then, looked up to the woman who was unknown to him. “ Is she the photographer?”

His tone did not please Lucy who sent him a look that chilled him on the spot. He made a gesture for the doorman to let them in, eager to move on before embarrassing himself further.

The club was already packed, the music deafening and the air was filled with the smell of alcohol and sweat. It was electric, dizzying even, for the French-Canadian who had not set foot in a club this big since she had left England. 

One thing she quickly remembered upon entering was just how much she hated these places. Her discomfort was almost funny to the two English women standing behind her. She made a move to back out but Lucy and Keira each grabbed one of the photographer’s arms and walked the brunette to an area at the back of the club with several sofas, tables and the entire team already halfway to their second drink.

When the girls saw their beloved photographer they all stood and cheered. Soon enough, Rosalie was being handed a drink and dragged by Mapi to a couch which was already occupied by Sarah, Ingrid, Sandra, Pina, Patri and Alexia. The little group all cheered and whistled at the sight of their friend, but Alexia stayed almost completely still. The only part of her moving was her piercing gaze taking in every inch of the brunette.

The captain knew that tonight would be hard. She had imagined many scenarios of how this night would go. She had told herself countless times how she needed to stay friendly and professional with the smaller brunette,but upon seeing the photographer in that dress, Alexia seemed to forget every word of her little pep talk.

The way that her dress hugged her athletic figure made the captain’s head spin. The photographer turned around and gave the captain a full view of the open back of said dress. She knew that the smaller woman had tattoos because of the small ones on her arms, but she had never seen the one that went along her spine. It was a fine line which seemed to follow no particular pattern. It snaked down her spine, like a path, all the way to her lower back. All Alexia wanted to do was trace the line with her fingers, with her mouth, kiss every inch of inked skin. 

The blond rapidly shook her head, cursing herself for letting her mind go to such places so soon after the woman’s arrival. Even then, it seemed impossible for her gaze not to be dragged back to the woman in front of her. Her hair was down in waves, her makeup darker than normally which accentuated her piercing green eyes. Eyes that were now settled on her.

Alexia sent a shy smile her way as she raised her glass in the photographer’s direction. She answered with a bright smile and a similar gesture. Rosalie was already feeling the effects of the alcohol, thanks to the fact that she rarely drank, but the slight buzz gave her all the courage she needed to take a seat right next to the woman who made her so nervous. 

“ Bonsoir Alexia, I am surprised to see you with a drink. I thought you didn’t drink during the season.” She said, eying the glass the blond had been nurturing since the start of the night. 

“Tonight is special I hear.”

“Yeah, it certainly seems so” Their conversation was cut short by Cata with a tray of what looked like tequila shots. Rosalie turned towards the keeper, which made her almost face the blond, the warm skin of her exposed thigh lean on Alexia’s own. 

“ It’s shot time chicas!” Yelled as she passed around the small glasses. She handed one to Alexia who refused, disappointing the keeper slightly. With the feeling of her first drinks already strong, Rosalie decided that tonight, she did not need to be careful. Tonight, she would let herself have fun surrounded by people who were quickly becoming family. 

She reached over Alexia to pick up the shot Cata was handing her, placing her other hand on Alexia’s thigh to stabilize herself. That movement alone, the light squeeze of her hand, how for an instant Alexia’s senses were swarmed by the photographer. Her floral perfume mixed with something that was so unmistakably Rosalie. How her hair fell all on one side exposing the soft skin of her neck. 

Alexia had to take a deep breath to try and re centre herself. “Dios mio dame uno de esos.” She said to Mapi who had ended up with the tray. 

The tattooed woman sent her a knowing smirk as she watched her nervous friend down to harsh liquid. 

The start of the night was slow. People were mostly sitting around and chatting. Rosalie was surprised to see how comfortable she was in such an environment, but with the buzzing of the alcohol in her system and her friends surrounding her, it was easy to forget how loud and full the club was.

 She was still on the same couch, in between Alexia and Ingrid. She would not admit it but being this close to the captain was unnerving for the photographer who tried very hard to not show it. But of course Alexia, purposefully or not, made the task extremely difficult. 

Engaged in a conversation with Mapi, who was on the other side of Ingrid, the Catalonian had her arm on the back of the couch, and was sitting back in a way that made the brunette feel like if she moved back an inch, she’d be leaning completely on the blond’s front. 

Suddenly, someone a few seats down screamed something in Spanish and several of the girls cheered and left their secluded area towards the dance floor. Before she could react, someone grabbed her hand and dragged her to the floor. 

“Oh non non I don’t dance.” She told the girl who still had a firm grip on her wrist. 

“Tonight you do amiga!” The voice, who she soon realized belonged to Patri, said, as she dragged her towards a small group of Barca girls already dancing. Seeing the smiles and hearing the contagious laughter was what ultimately allowed the photographer to let loose and start moving to the rhythm of the music. No one was judging, it was simply a group of friends having fun and enjoying a night out. 

From the VIP area, Alexia, Ingrid, Irene and Paños had a pretty clear view of the rest of the team. None of them were keen on dancing and had stood their ground against the younger players and exited girlfriend, in Ingrid’s case. 

The Norwegian was smiling as she watched Mapi show off her most ridiculous dance moves to Rosalie who, with obvious difficulty, was trying to keep up with the Zaragozian. 

It took at least a song for the group to utter any words. After a moment, it was Sandra who disrupted their little bubble in the middle of this hectic environment. She grabbed Irene’s shoulder and dragged her closer so she wouldn’t have to yell. 

“This pining has to stop.” She said to her friend while watching the blond who’s gaze had not left the brunette since she had left. 

“Ah si, it is excruciating to watch.” 

“You know what we discussed in Sevilla? You think it is a good time to use this.” Sandra said, watching the way Alexia’s jaw tightened every time one of the girls was dancing  too close to the Canadian. 

“Si, it is now or never,” she said, sending a look to the blond, she laughed and turned back to the keeper, “ it won’t take much, she’s already on the brink.”

The Spaniards quickly briefed Ingrid in their little plan and soon after, it was set to motion. 

“Ale! Come on! We all know you want to go out there.” Sandra said as she sat down next to the midfielder. 

“No no I can’t dance you know that.” She said, finally tearing her gaze away from Rosalie. 

“We all know you want to get out there with her.” Sandra said, leaning back on the couch while twirling the straw in her drink. “Who could blame you, look at her.”

As if on cew, the song changed to a slower beat, which had the brunette change the pace from fun and electric to swaying her hips to match the more sensual beat of the song.  

“Oh believe me I am looking.” The captain said under her breath, but the comment did jot go unnoticed by the keeper. 

“You should go before someone else swipes her away.” Alexia didn’t move. She looked deep in thought. When the goalkeeper realized that the blond wouldn’t move, she got up and started to walk towards the dance floor, but stopped right before exiting the Vip section. 

“Your loss captain.” 

Rosalie was smiling and she could not stop. She could feel the base all the way through her bones and it was like her body had a mind of its own. Gone was the stress that was clawing at her at the start of the night, all she could feel was the rhythm of the music guiding her movements. 

She was currently dancing with Salma and Pina when she felt a hand settle on her waist and the heat of an unfamiliar presence behind her. She knew right away that the mysterious woman was not Alexia, but judging by the face the girls with her made, it was one of their own. 

Rosalie did not think much of it. She just kept following the beat of the music, letting the warm hands guide her. As time passed , the general fun and carefree vibe of the club changed for something heavier, a lot more seductive. 

The hands on her waist got bolder, pulling the photographer closer. Rosalie spun around, having guessed the identity of the taller woman behind her, and hooked her arms around the keeper’s neck. 

“Not the person you were expecting right?” She said with a big smile on her face. 

“No, but I am not mad about this either.”She answered with a matching smile. There was no need to argue her case. She knew that the goalkeeper was aware of what was going on. Rosalie might be on the dance floor, but she was completely aware of Alexia’s eyes on her and she had seen Sandra attempt to convince the captain to come out on the floor. 

Paños leaned in, her lips brushing against the shell of the brunette’s ear. “She’s watching us now.”

On instinct, Rosalie pressed herself even closer to the keeper. “Do you trust me?” She asked, leaving a kiss at the junction of her neck and collarbone. The contact sent shivers down her spine. 

Unable to respond, the Canadian simply nodded and focused on the feeling of the base travelling her body. 

They kept dancing like this for a while, with Sandra making sure that the photographer was comfortable every time her hands wandered. Ingrid, who was still sitting between Irene and Alexia, sent a look to the older woman. She could not believe the nerves her teammates had. 

Alexia was livid. She was sitting on the couch, completely rigid, her cold gaze pinned on the goalkeeper, her jaw tensing with every kiss laid on the brunette’s neck and every time her hands roamed a little too low. 

As if Sandra knew, she lifted her gaze and held Alexia’s head on, daring her almost to come and interrupt her.

 “How long do you think it’ll take before she storms on the dance floor?” Ingrid subtly asked, her eyes not leaving the captain.

“Any moment now.” Irene said. She felt a little bad for her friend, but she also knew that the captain needed a little push to go after what she wanted. 

What  made the captain snap was when Rosalie turned around in the goalkeeper’s arms and finally made eye contact with the blond. Her hips were swaying slowly to the rhythm of the music, the movement almost hypnotic to the footballer. And while Sandra was still pressed up against her, holding her waist and caressing the skin exposed by her dress, the photographer was looking at Alexia like she wished it was her. 

Even in the arms of another, very beautiful woman, all Rosalie wanted was the midfielder. This was what did it for Alexia. That look, filled with desire, inviting her to come and claim what could be hers if she so pleased. 

In a matter of seconds, the footballer had managed to make her way through the crowd and grab Rosalie by the hand, ripping her away from the goalkeeper, who was already grinning at her teammates still on the couch. 

“Ale! What are you doing?” The Canadian asked as she allowed the catalonian woman to drag her towards the back of the club. The captain didn’t answer, she simply kept walking, never letting go of the woman’s hand. They passed several of their teammates who all had the same expression on their faces, knowing very well that they would not see the two of them for the rest of the night.

The club bathrooms were individual stalls with their own sinks. Alexia could not be more glad for this fact as she dragged the photographer behind and closed the door, locking them in.  

For an instant, they both stayed silent, Alexia never letting go of the other woman's hand. A second later, this moment of stillness was interrupted by an intense pull, a need to finally close the space between them.

Alexia was the first to move, drawing Rosalie closer and tangling her hand in the brunette’s hair. As soon as Rosalie’s lips made contact with Alexia’s, a sight came out of her, as if her body had been waiting for this moment all night. Their kiss was frantic, sloppy almost, with every movement controlled solely by intense desire. Alexia pushed  the photographer until her back suddenly hit the bathroom door, which made the woman gasp. The small sound gave the blond the opportunity to press her tongue inside Rosalie’s eager mouth. She tasted of alcohol and something that could only be her and Alexia decided that she definitely needed more. 

Her hands left Rosalie’s hair and started to roam downward, along her sides all the way to her hips. Rosalie could feel her skin ignite everywhere Alexia touched. 

The door knob was digging in the brunette’s back but she couldn't care less about it right now. The way the blond was currently attacking her lips was electric and the feeling of her hands getting bolder had the photographer reeling as she hooked one of her legs around the midfielder, dragging her impossibly closer.  

The change of angle had the blond’s thigh wedged itself between the photographer’s, giving her the perfect opportunity to grind down on her leg. The shift of the muscles, along with the movement of her hips, dragged a loud moan from the brunette, which was swallowed in a hungry kiss. 

This new position had Rosalie’s dress hike up significantly, revealing the skin of her thighs and stopping just below her waist. Alexia’s hand moved down to explore the new expense of skin as her lips kissed down her neck, nipping slightly at the skin. 

Rosalie’s head lolled back , hitting the door with a dull thud. Her body was on fire. All of her senses were overwhelmed by the captain. The smell of her expensive perfume mixed with her strawberry shampoo was intoxicating. The taste of her lips on hers, the feel of her calloused hands traveling on her body. She knew her panties were most definitely ruined by now. 

“Ale, we should..” the rest of her sentence was cut short by a gasp as she could feel Alexia’s fingers graze just past the fabric of her pantie.  

The blond pulled back, her hand retreating from her spot under her dress. “Are you ok, do you want me to stop?” She asked with concern. 

Rosalie’s answer came fast. “ Non non, god no.” She said, grabbing the blond’s face and pulling her in for a kiss. “ I just think we should take this somewhere more comfortable, if you want.”

Alexia didn’t need to be asked twice. In less than five minutes, the duo was exiting the club and walking towards the photographer’s flat. The walk was mostly silent, but filled with tension so thick you could cut through with a butterknife. 

Finding her keys at the bottom of her bag seemed like an impossible task when the brunette could almost feel Alexia’s hot breath on the back of her head. She almost dropped the set of keys when the blond grabbed her hips and pulled her flush against her front.

“ Sérieusement Alexia give me a chance.” She said, dropping her keys this time when soft lips grazed her neck. Alexia chuckled as she took a step back, allowing the brunette to compose herself a little before unlocking. 

As soon as the door is opened, Rosalie is dragged inside and pushed against the closed door, much like her previous position in The club bathroom. But this time, the blond waits to connect her lips to Rosalie’s. 

Alexia takes a deep breath and wills her hands from wandering from their spot on the brunette’s hips. Their foreheads connect, lips only millimeters apart. Rosalie can almost taste them. All she needed to do was lean in a little more, but she was afraid to break the stillness, the intensity of the moment. 

“Rosalia, are you sure?” Alexia whispered, softly. She tried to surge forward and capture the captain’s lips, thinking that actions were stronger than words, but was stopped by the taller woman pulling away and pinning her harder against the door. 

“No no bonita I need to hear you say it.” She said in a low voice, as her lips were ghosting on the sensitive skin of her neck. She smiled, well aware of the effect she had on the brunette and revelled in the way she could feel her breath quickening and hear the soft moans that escaped the brunette’s lips. 

Control was becoming an issue for the captain as well as she fought to not just rip off that beautiful dress and take her here and now, against her apartment door. Alexia’s lips moved down, close enough for Rosalie to feel the heat of her breath but not enough to actually feel the press of her lips on her skin. 

Finally she reached where the hem of her dress sat at the base of her neck. She nipped at the spot right at the base of Rosalie’s throat, swiping her tongue on the newly formed bruise to soothe the skin. 

Forming a coherent sentence was an impossible task for the photographer at the moment. She reached out to pull the midfielder further in but was stopped before her hands could get to the back of her head. 

“Tell me you want this and I’ll do anything you want.” 

“Please Ale, I need you.” It was like a switch was flipped. She grabbed the back of the photographer’s thighs and hoisted her up. The brunette let out a slight laugh as she let the footballer carry her to the bedroom. 

She laid her down gently on the cover and stood up at the feet of the bed. Rosalie leaned back on her elbows, green eyes meeting hazel as the blonde’s gaze softened.

 “Eres tan hermosa.” She all but whispered before laying down and capturing the brunette’s lips once more. Gone was the urgency from before, but the passion between the two was still burning strong. 

Rosalie’s breath came out ragged as she could feel the blond’s lips kiss and suck at the skin just below her pulse point. In a surge of desire, she pulled at the bottom of the midfielder’s top, needing to finally feel the heat of her skin first hand. Alexia somehow managed to rid herself of the fabric fast enough that it was like her lips had never left.

“Can I take this off, bonita?” She asked gently as her hands were fiddling with the bottom of her dress. 

The answer came with the photographer arching her back, giving Alexia the necessary space to push the dress upwards and finally allow the blonde to marvel at the newly exposed skin. Alexia almost growled at the sight of the photographer, left only in a black lacy tong, hair tousled and eyes dark and clouded by desire. 

She kissed down the valley of her breast, lightly biting at the skin before soothing the bite with her tongue. Her hand travelled up to cup her breast while her mouth explored freely.

She took her time, kissing every inch, worshiping the photographer, showing her just how much she wanted her. Rosalie on the other hand, was reeling. She could feel her arousal pooling in her panties. She needed more. She whined and pushed Alexia’s head down in hopes that the blonde would understand the message, but the captain had other plans. She grazed her nipple with her teeth before biting down, which sent a shock straight to her core. 

The moan that came out of the photographer’s lips was loud 

Alexia’s hand travelled down until she reached the hem of the lacy fabric. There was still a part at the back of Rosalie's mind which was embarrassed about what would the blonde discover when her fingers would dip lower. 

“What do you want, amor?” She said with a smirk plastered on her face. 

“Please touch me.” The photographer whimpered. 

“I am touching you.” She said, while she slipped down the bed to settle between the brunette's legs.

 That confident, cocky side of her, the one that shone bright when she wore the red and blue kit along with the arm band, was peaking through as she gazed up at the smaller woman. Rosalie couldn’t believe that this woman had not been remotely close to where she needed her the most and she already had her begging. 

Her hands were now caressing the smooth skin of her tights, squeezing her flesh, making the woman beneath her gasp at the feeling.  

« Please I need to feel you. » reaching down only to have her hands pinned down on the bed. « I want your mouth on me, Ale please. » 

“Ok bonita, lift your hips for me.”  She said, hooking her fingers in the waistband of her panties and slipping them down her legs. 

“Oh look at you baby.” The sight with which she was met was nothing short of heavenly. Her lips were glistening with arousal and Alexia could not help but leave a soft kiss right where Rosalie desperately needed contact. 

“All this for me?”

“Oui, all for you.” The photographer said, lifting her head just enough to watch the midfielder finally lick down the length of her slit. She groaned at how her taste flooded her mouth, the vibration sending shockwaves through the brunette. 

“You taste so good,” Her tongue found her clit and lapped gently and parts your lips with her tongue, collecting her juice at the same time.

 Alexia is attentive to every breath hitch, whimper and moan coming from the brunette, reading her like an open book. It didn’t take long before Rosalie had lost all control of her own body and mind. All her senses were in overdrive, but there was something missing. 

Alexia’s lips captured her clit and sucked lightly at the bundle of nerves. Rosalie saw stars clouding her vision. “ fuck Alexia s’il te plait,  don’t stop.”

The mix of French and the pleading only motivated the blonde even more as she focused on her clit, altering between tight circles and sucking at the flesh. 

“ Ale..” she said before a long moan interrupted her sentence. 

“Que necesitas, bonita?” 

“More,” She simply was not able to form a sentence in the state she currently was. Alexia’s hand left her hips to travel down between her legs and tease at her entrance. 

“Is this what you want?” She asked smugly. 

“Yes! Oui please.” Alexia smiled at the brunette’s eagerness and could not do anything but oblige after the photographer had asked so nicely. Her mouth fell open as her fingers finally stretched her. 

Her name was on her lips, chanting it like a prayer. Her hand was desperately grasping at anything she could reach before finally finding and intertwining her fingers with Alexia’s free hand. The feel of her climax was approaching fast, like an all-consuming fire ready to swipe everything in its wake. 

Her legs tensed, around the captain’s head and she could feel her walls clenching around her fingers. Her hips started to buck against her face.

“You are doing so good for me bonita.” She said before curling her fingers, reaching the spot inside her that

She lifted her leg on her shoulder and curled her fingers deeper inside her. The change in angles allowing the captain to reach a spot deep inside her that had the photographer completely lose it. Her heel was digging in the blonds back but she couldn't care less. Every swipe of her tongue, along with the steady thrust of her fingers brought her that much closer to the edge. Alexia could feel just how close by the way her walls were clenching, making it harder to keep her rhythm.

The brunette could hear Alexia speak to her softly in what she thought was Catalan. She couldn’t understand a word but it didn’t matter, the hushed soft sound of her voice alone was enough to guide her over the edge. 

Alexia slowed down her trust but kept her mouth on her, lapping up everything the brunette was giving her. It had been a strong one. The kind that completely short circuited her brain and left her body limp on the sheets. When the feeling became too much, she pulled at Alexia’s hand to drag her up to her lips. The kiss was soft and slow, full of appreciation and a feeling that Rosalie was not quite ready to name yet. 

They stayed quiet for a moment. Alexia’s head against the photographer’s chest, listening to the steady beat of her heart. “Are you ok, Rosalia?”

Rosalie smiled and took a deep breath before shifting their position, ending up on top of the captain. The sudden movement stunned the footballer who let out a gasp as she found herself trapped under the smaller woman. “ qué estás haciendo…” 

Rosalie didn’t wait for the end of her sentence and crashed her lips on Alexia. A new fire had ignited once the shock of her orgasm had faded. She wanted to make the blond feel as good as she just had. 

“You don’t have to…”

“Non non, none of that.” The brunette said as her lips travelled down her neck to the valley of her breast. “I want to taste you Alexia, will you let me?.” She asked, looking up to the footballer. She looked so good at this moment, her hands caressing down her hips, hair cascading down one side, a silent question written in her eyes. Alexia groaned at the sight. 

“Si, si, I want you to.” She said, as her head fell back on the pillow and her arms came up, covering her face. Rosalie’s lips connected with Alexia’s chest, teasing the skin with her teeth and soothing the bites with a kiss. They travelled down to Alexia’s abdomen where they were met with taunt muscles which twitched with every kiss and drag of her tongue. 

This was probably Rosalie’s favorite part of the footballer. She remembered every time she had caught herself almost drooling when the midfielder would raise her shirt to wipe some sweat off her forehead, leaving her abs exposed. Now, Rosalie was finally able to map out every crease and ridge of her stomach.

She could see that the blond was growing restless underneath her, and she too, could not wait any longer. She slid down between the blond’s legs, spreading them slightly to accommodate her, and left a kiss at the waistband of her pants. Alexia lifted her hips, chasing the warmth of her mouth, which allowed the brunette to tug down her jeans and panties. Once free from the barrier between the brunette’s lips and her most sensitive parts, Alexia grabbed a handful of her hair and guided her towards where she desperately needed her. But Rosalie had other plans in mind, as she skillfully avoided the women's center, opting to kiss and leave little bite marks on the skin of her inner thighs. 

A harsher tug pulled a moan from the photographer as she was brought back right in front of Alexia’s glistening heat. Green eyes met hazel, a teasing smirk dancing on the Canadian’s lips as she watched the captain slowly lose composure. 

The first swipe of her tongue felt like heaven. Rosalie went slow, savoring what had officially become her favourite taste. She drew lazy circles around her clit, slowly working up the blond who seemed completely lost in the feeling. The carefulness with which she had previously touched the photography was gone. Her fingers were now firmly anchored in her hair, tugging and pulling every time Rosalie’s tongue swiped down to tease at her entrance. She was essentially grinding down on her tongue, chasing her high which was rapidly approaching.

Rosalie was contempt with the predicament she was currently in, happy to be used for the captain's pleasure. She was attentive to her reaction, switching from sucking at her clit to flattening her tongue before swiping down to finally breach inside. The groan that came out of the blond’s mouth was surely the most erotic sound the photographer had ever heard, and she made it her mission to be the cause of more of these addictive sounds. 

Her peak was approaching fast. Her grip on reality fading rapidly as she was consumed by the feeling of the photographer’s hot mouth on her. She opened her mouth, trying to tell the brunette to keep going, that she was close, that her tongue felt so good on her, that she was being so good for her, but she did not know if she had been successful in speaking clearly. Hell she didn’t even know in what language she had spoken, but it didn’t matter. Rosalie seemed to know exactly what to do to make Alexia completely lose it.

Her climax came suddenly. It washed on her like a dangerous wave that drags you under and leaves you thinking you’ll never breach the surface again. Every part of her tensed to the point where it was almost painful, but Rosalie didn’t stop, she only slowed down her ministrations, helping the woman come down slowly. Rosalie kissed up Alexia’s body, before laying down next to her. Her breathing was slowly coming down as she wrapped her arms around the brunette’s shoulder and pulled her in. 

“Was this ok?” The brunette asked shyly, as if she had not been buried between the woman’s trembling legs minutes ago.

“Dios mio, Rosalia si, it was more than ok, this was divine bonita.” The blond said, turning her head and kissing the photographer softly. Rosalie smiled as she buried her face in the blond’s neck. Soon enough, the photographer's breath started to even out, her body feeling heavier in the midfielder’s arms. She kissed her head before too, succumbing to the heavy pull of sleep.

[liveontelevision]

Demon Barber | Lucifer X Reader

IT'S DONNNEEEE

FuCk i slaved away on this one but y'all wanted a novel, so here she is!

Content Warning: Smutsmutsmutsmut +18, a little bit of angst and fluff, and Lucifer and Reader being kind of shitty people

☆☆☆

Everybody knew how much of an icon Queen Lillith was. She immediately blew up any form of media when she started uplifting demonkind. As time went on and more sinners were sent to Hell, a ripple effect of styles and trends rang throughout the city. It was important to Lillith to stay up to date with them. She hated to admit it, but she couldn’t keep up. She decided to take the opportunity to bring a new face to her team. At that point, the Morningstar family had already hired a handful of imps to keep little things in line, but this was a position that needed the point of view of a sinner on the streets.

Lucky you, you were one of the first sinners to work personally with the most powerful couple in Hell! You weren't that different from anyone else, but you are a chronic people watcher. It was an important hobby that helped you keep up with what everyone was decorating themselves with. A perfect pair of eyes for adorning the most beautiful creatures in the realm in a modern fashion. You started your glamorous job a couple of thousands of years before the Hotel was built. Even with your immense age, you did a surprisingly good job at keeping an open mind and becoming knowledgeable in most cosmetic and costuming work. You managed to make it through every extermination and more in this career. The protection from being housed with royalty definitely had its benefits.

On your first day, you went through Lillith's already existing wardrobe, in awe at the quality and unique aesthetics that she had. Even with your praises on her gowns, she insisted she needed your knowledge of street style incorporated into her wardrobe. You definitely fit into the Pride ring of hell at that point. The queen of Hell needs your personal opinion on what she wears? That went straight to your head. You became the head of a team and were credited with dressing up Lillith in some of her most iconic outfits. It didn't exactly bring you any fame, you weren't advertised or really credited in any other form than writing. Sometimes, if Lillith was put in an outfit she really enjoyed and her makeup and hair lasted through an entire performance, she'd give a little shout-out. You didn't really mind, you loved doing what you did, and the sweet praises Lillith gave you sufficed your need for validation. It felt amazing to see her face plastered all over Pentagram City, and being able to say hey, I did that. The salary helped, too.

As time went on, you noticed how little Lucifer made public appearances. When he did they were exclusively with Lillith at his side. And of course, he looked.. He was definitely a handsome ruler, but he didn’t have a lot of variety in his wardrobe. And it wasn't exactly up to your or Lillith's standards. She would often suggest taking some styling tips from you, almost begging at times, but he would refuse every time. You did little things, steaming and restitching his wardrobe, doing some touch-up makeup for shoots, but his suit? It stayed the same almost every day.

One day, Lucifer suddenly had a change of heart. He looked disheartened but begrudgingly agreed to be dolled up for a shoot that was happening soon. You were almost as ecstatic as Lillith was, getting this chance.

"I want you to give it your all, dear. Maybe I can convince him to do some more in the future if all goes well..." She'd tell you in a hushed tone, the two of you standing in front of the double doors that led to your studio." Do what you do best!" She said cheerfully, her hand on the small of your back. She practically throws you into the room once it's open, leaving you alone with Lucifer. There was no music, none of your other artists had shown up yet, and the only thing you could hear was your breath shaking. You breathed in heavily, then put on your best customer service face as you exhaled. You played professionally at the beginning, but it's always easier having some personality and small talk when you're planning on being in close proximity to clients for so long.

"Your Majesty! I hope you're doing well today, I'm glad you decided to join us this time!" You spoke in your people-pleaser voice, trying to hide the nerves that suddenly washed over your body. "Why the change of heart?" You started questioning, in a desperate attempt to find some sense of small talk with the intimidating figure seated in front of you. As you spoke, you stepped in front of the vanity he was seated at, having to stretch by his crossed legs to lay out your supplies. "I'm doing fantastic. Obviously." He spoke in an aggravated tone. You sucked in your lips, unsure if you should laugh. Luckily he didn't need a response before answering your other question. "You've seen Lily, she can be quite convincing." He puffed out his chest in his seated position, insinuating something vulgar. Your eye twitched, trying your best to not let them roll.

That didn't stop your face from heating up, the image suddenly materializing in your head. You cleared your throat, turning your attention back to the array of makeup brushes and some colored powders you had picked out specifically for this shoot." She is a beauty, I agree." You felt the need to respond in some way before getting to work.

You loved doing your job. No matter who you worked on, you'd always focus on your technique before anything else, which helped calm you down while you delicately held Lucifer's jaw, twisting his head around to get a general idea of what you were working with. You examined a solid purple bruise that decorated his neck before he had the chance to stop you. "Oh! I just - ran into a doorknob. Yeeah.. I.. tripped." He rambled a pathetic excuse, learning away from your touch." Sure, let's go with that." You replied, finally rolling your eyes at his words. "But you said it yourself, the Queen is indeed quite convincing." You teased, twisting around and grabbing a brush. When you went to move behind his chair to start running a comb through his impossibly soft golden hair, you caught how red he had turned at your remark." Oh, it's okay, I'm just teasing. You know how long I've worked on Lillith, I've had to cover way worse." You added, genuinely thinking that would help calm him down. He let out a quiet groan of embarrassment, smacking his hand against his face.

It went silent for a while as you worked on his hair. You saw how it usually was put up, and you didn’t want to scare him with too drastic of a change, so you only added some subtle layers that left it a bit fluffier than normal. You’d stop every now and then, placing your hands on his shoulders and looking at your work in the mirror. He'd flinch at your touch each time, leaving you concerned at first, then just giving him a suck it up attitude for the rest of your session. You went on to do something that didn't need your full attention and looked over his shoulder to get a peek at his phone screen that he used as a buffer for the awkward silence. It displayed a little calendar, he swiped through each day mindlessly. "Looks like you have a packed schedule, huh? How's that been going?" He looked up and pulled his phone into his lap, a squint across his face. "It's fine, I'm handling it. It's my job after all, ya know. Important things." He didn't seem to want to get into too much detail, so you let out a nervous chuckle and agreed before immediately finding some music to play to cover your mistake. You were convinced he would fire you at that point. Or worse.

As you finished up, you viewed him from multiple angles, twisting him around in the chair. You leaned down a bit, your eyes at his level then reached both your hands out and took the pieces of hair that framed his face, curling them up a bit at his cheeks. You stepped back again and placed your hands on your hips, letting out a satisfied hum.

He definitely calmed down by the time his hair was done, leaving behind the crude jokes and little rude quips from before. Now onto the makeup. This was far more intimate, so you gave him a quick rundown as you rummaged through your things." Alright, you definitely don't need any makeup, since your skin is perfect, but there's a chance the cameras and the lighting could wash you out, so I'll just use a blurring effect with this pow - " you stopped talking when you saw his confusion." I'm.. I'm gonna doll you up. Basically.." You summarized it bluntly. It was clear to you how uncomfortable he was with being touched excessively, you did your best to accommodate. You applied some translucent powders to his skin, then brightened up the cute little red circles on his face, after mentally kicking yourself for thinking of them as cute. This is the king of Hell, knock it off. You cleaned up the heavy bags under his eyes, then noticed a tired purple hue to his eyelids. Going in with a lilac color, you emphasized them.

As you were gathering some other things, stepping back a bit, he turned his head to look at his appearance in the mirror. He was expecting some ridiculous and dramatic work, but he really just looked brighter. More alert, more alive. He shut one of his eyes to see the color you had added to his lids, "I.. like that.." He spoke quietly and sounded surprised as if he didn't want to admit that to you. You let out a little chuckle, the compliment completely going to your head, before passively scolding him for touching his face before you had finished. He let his hands fall back into his lap with a pout on his face. Adding any color to his eyes or lips required precision, so you were lifting up his face by his chin to do what you do best. You were honestly a little surprised about how well he handled the rest of the session. For someone who's refused any sort of cosmetics for literal centuries, he looked like he was enjoying the pampering.

You had only worked on Lillith before, and even if she was intimidatingly gorgeous, you adapted to being physically close to her. Going into a sort of auto-pilot mode, you held your breath, tracing out his best features. Pulling away to check on his full appearance again, you noticed that he seemed to be holding his breath as well. He finally let it out once you stepped away, his face already a little flushed. You didn't think too much about it, you were mainly annoyed that the composition of the makeup was being thrown off by this sudden blush.

"Well! Once wardrobe comes in, you'll be taken down to set. What do you think?" You stood behind his chair and spun him back around to face the mirror. He leaned in, making sure not to touch his face since you scolded him before. He moved his head around, even admiring the coverage of the hickey that Lillith so generously gifted him." Hm! I suppose this works. As long as Lillith likes it, that is." His voice wasn’t enthusiastic, but you recognized the satisfaction plastered across his face. He looked up to meet your eyes in the reflection of the mirror. "She's right, you are good at what you do, I'll give you that." You gave a little nod and began to pack up your things. "I'm glad it's acceptable, your highness." You pulled up some finger quotes as you spoke the word acceptable. "You were really nice to work on actually, your hair looks great and your face is already near perfection, so I didn't need to do much. Plus, you sat very well." You spoke nonchalantly, compliments like that coming as second nature in this field.

You turned once more and bowed your head a bit before sending a smile his way. His eyes were wide, and it looked like he was struggling to stiffen a grin. He cleared his throat, covering his mouth with his fist and looking to the side. "G-Good.. Glad you enjoyed the.. Uh - Enjoyed it.." His voice muffled behind his hand. You didn't overthink his nervous reaction since you were in a hurry to get Lillith ready next. "Oh, for sure! I hope I see you around more often! I'm sure the shoot will be great." You chimed in, finally dipping out of the room as a crowd of imps barged in, finishing up his look.

The rest of the day was spent getting Lillith ready for the shoot, which took considerably longer than Lucifer's preparations. The whole time you chatted with her about how Lucifer did, calling her out on the damned bruise that you had to cover up, and general catch-up that had become routine at this point. Once everything was up and moving, you floated around the set fixing up some small details on both Lillith and Lucifer's look when needed. And of course, the shots they got were fantastic. You couldn't stop yourself from admiring your work once the posters and advertisements were distributed.

That was the first time you worked with Lucifer. Not much changed after, you became a little more popular around the staff; getting complimented on how you dressed him and answered some silly questions about what he was like. You did see him around more often, and you’d make small talk. After a few weeks, while working on Lillith, she brought up another shoot that was proposed for a big event coming up. "And get this! Lucifer asked me to put him in the shoot!" She was absolutely giddy to tell you the news. "Well, of course, he wants to be in the shoot, it's because I prettied him up so well!" You bragged in a joking tone, making Lillith let out a sultry chuckle. She placed her hand over yours, a sincere smile across her already-painted lips. "Thank you, dear. He needs the pampering sometimes." You blushed at the sudden contact and grinned in response.

---

Lucifer did in fact join that shoot. The process was about the same, but he seemed to engage in conversation more and asked more questions about what you were doing at each step. It warmed your heart to talk about your passions, you were unknowingly gushing about your interests every time he asked.

As the years went on, he joined more and more shoots, accompanied Lillith to more public appearances, and generally just wanted your opinions on his looks more often. It didn't take long for you two to become close. He'd ask for help on outfits, sometimes becoming a nervous wreck about what to wear on dates. With his wife. It was adorable the way he worried about how he looked after being with Lillith for so long and essentially running a new world together. He seemed to really enjoy having his hair and makeup done, occasionally making a fuss if you weren't the one to do it. You would scold him, talking about how he's wasting your time, and that you trained each of your stylists, so he has to trust them. He pouted the whole time.

Being around the power couple of the century unfortunately had its flaws. Like having to witness its downfall. Both of them became quieter a decade or two before Lillith's disappearance. Any time you'd try and tell a funny story about Lucifer to Lillith, she would change the topic almost immediately. On the opposite end, Lucifer wasn't supplying you with the same amount of jokes and puns as usual and reverted back to flinching at your touch. You couldn't ask about what was going on, that'd be rude.. Right?

"You know, Lillith was just talking about some sort of Gala for the Sins, are you going with her?" You had some hidden intentions by bringing this up while you were fixing Lucifer up for his day. "A Gala, huh? Haven't heard anything about that, so - I guess not!" He blurted out, clearly irritated. Shit. " Are.. Are you okay? Is something going on?" You leaned against the back of the vanity, stopping what you were doing to give him your full attention." Well, if you want to talk about it, that is.. Aaand as long as I won't get in trouble by asking." You shrugged and crossed your arms over your chest. That happened once or twice, but it was for little things; spoiling an anniversary gift one time, or accidentally getting an imp fired when you were venting about workplace struggles. "Yeah, of course it's okay! We're fine. It's fine. I'm fine! Stop asking so many questions!" He got increasingly aggressive as he spoke, you threw your hands up, stepping away and returning to the back of his chair. "Okay, okay! I believe you, jeez!" You responded to it as a joke, hoping you could recover.

You didn't talk about it after that, lifting his mood a bit by asking about his projects and other little things. As you finished up his hair, you noticed him closing his eyes and leaning his head into your hands as you ran your fingers through his hair to coat it with some kind of styling product. He'd fallen asleep in the past, so you didn't worry about it too much. You went on to work on his makeup. He asked you recently if you wouldn’t mind coming up with a more subtle everyday look for him. Apparently he just really liked your work. Or, he needed the pampering. Either way, you couldn't refuse.

He was loving the treatment today. He would hum every time you used your thumb to brush a speck off his cheek, and would start leaning forward when you stopped touching him. You pushed him back by his chest mindlessly, just needing him to sit back in his chair.

You then started to apply makeup to his eyes. Covering the bags underneath them became increasingly difficult throughout the years. You pulled him in like usual, your hand lightly leading his head up towards your face. When you paused at some point to evaluate whatever you were doing, he suddenly opened his eyes, his gaze meeting yours, then flashing a quick peak at your bust that had been accentuated by your stance. He leaned back, a nervous look on his face.

"Um, hello?? I was kind of in the middle of something! That’s it. Tell me what’s wrong." You scoffed, confusion and irritation plastered across your face. He quickly dismissed it, letting you work again. He could feel your shallow breathing fan across his face as you went on. His breath was picking up, heart rate elevating as you kept this proximity. The leather on the armrests of his chair squeaked as he gripped his claws into the fabric.

After a while, you silently leaned back, only now noticing him falling apart. He leaned in slightly, dropping his jaw to let out a shaky breath. He would've hit your face if you hadn't stepped away. Possibly even met your lips.

"Uh – Your higness..?" You were oblivious, so you decided to question this behavior. He popped his eyes open and immediately leaned back into his chair." A-Are you done yet?" He squeaked out, examining the damage he had done to your chair with a nervous chuckle. "I'll uh.. I'll get you a new chair." He muttered, before looking into the mirror for just a moment. "Looks good to me! Excellent job as usual, my dear, I better get going, I have a meeting to get to so – " You watched in silent confusion, seeing him squirming and screwing up his words. He quickly stood up, not assessing how close he would be to you and how close your back was to the vanity. You stumbled backward, placing your hands on the vanity to keep yourself from falling any farther, and acting as a buffer between the counter and Lucifer. He tripped over your stumbling feet, his flailing arms landing beside yours. You were effectively trapped, his knee had bent between your legs while trying to find his balance.

A moment of silence. All you heard was the beating of your heart ringing in your ears. He looked down at you in a way that clouded your judgment. Neither of you said anything, but you fluttered your eyes shut subconsciously. He did the same, then cocked his head to the side and slowly lean into your face. He roped his arm around your waist, pulling you forward a bit, but not quite flush to his chest. Yet. You felt his shaky breath fanning over your lips, before snapping back into reality. "No! Nope - " You quickly broke free of his arms and began cleaning up your things, avoiding his gaze as it followed you frantically getting your things together. "You have a meeting, right? I just finished up, so you should be all good now! I'll just – I-I'll see you around! Have a good day, sir!" You quickly left the room, not letting him get a single word in. He reached out to you as you left as if that would suddenly draw you back towards him, but of course, it did nothing. "Well, shit." He let out bluntly, waiting for a moment in your own studio before b-lining it back to his office.

What the fuck was that?

You avoided Lucifer after the incident, and he seemed to respect that. He let one of your stylists do his daily pampering, knowing that stopping that routine would cause too much suspicion. He didn't enjoy it as much, but stopping altogether would make Lillith ask about it. Fuck. Lillith. A flood of emotions wash over you. In reality, you were closer to Lillith than her husband. You two gossiped and chatted on the daily. It was a struggle to face her after this, but what choice did you have? 

She was completely silent during her last few sessions, so you drowned out your guilty thoughts with music. She disappeared a few years after that. You absolutely panicked. So did many of the staff members, but your sole concern was if it was your fault. You were quick to find Lucifer after the announcement was made, only to see him in your studio, running his hands across the rack of gowns that Lillith had left. "Lucifer. What happened? Where did she go? What did she say?" You rambled approaching him, but being careful not to get too close. "She didn't say anything. She left a half-assed note, and she's just.. Gone." He pulled a dress into his arms and gripped it tightly before letting it drop to the floor. He let out a vicious roar, throwing the rack to the side." How could she do this?! What about the kingdom? What about Charlie? Dammit.. What did I do?? We slept next to each other that night.. The same night she left… I-I could’ve stopped her, I should've - She just disappeared..!" He rambled on, quickly unraveling in front of you. You watched his tail and horns start to form, and you hesitantly gripped his shoulder. He finally stopped, taking a deep breath before turning to face you. He hadn't looked into your eyes since..

His horns shrunk back into his temples before he let his head fall onto your shoulder. You almost stepped away, but.. He needed this. And you needed answers. "Sir.. Was it because.. Did she leave because of me..?" You spoke softly, your breath a cool sensation against his heated skin. He quickly shot up, planting his hands on your shoulders and looking at you with a stern expression. "No! No, I promise it wasn't your fault. Fuck, none of that was your fault. She.. I-I'm not sure why she left, but that's not your burden to bear." He spoke calmly, a stark contrast to the raging mess he just displayed moments ago. 

You two stood there for a while, his hands drifted down to hold your arms. What was he supposed to do now? He looked around the room for some kind of answer. Before he could realize what was happening, he was pulled into a tight embrace, his head just barely reaching the top of your shoulder. "It's gonna be okay.. I’ll be here, Lucifer. No matter what." It felt.. weird for a moment. This was the first time you'd gotten close to him this way. And actually, the first time you'd said his name without any sort of title. He let out another exhausted sigh, his hands snaking around your back and accepting the much-needed affection. As his head pressed against your collarbone, you stood there until he decided he’d had enough. You were there for a while.

It wasn't Lucifer's fault, but after that, you didn’t work much. There really wasn't a lot to do, without someone pushing public appearances and emphasizing the importance of image, you generally just mended and fixed up the staff's uniforms and Lucifer’s wardrobe. You were technically a stylist, but you've been doing this long enough that you could handle these jobs entirely by yourself. Actually, you did handle the job by yourself. Lucifer fired or sent most of the previously employed stylists away, along with most of the staff. About five years into Lillith's disappearance, the place had widdled down to a handful of workers. Some in the kitchen, basic housekeeping, a noisy secretary to answer some calls, and you. You started to question why he kept you around. You hated to admit that you still blamed yourself for Lillith leaving, but why else would she suddenly disappear? She was cold to you as soon as you kissed – almost kissed – Lucifer that day. You tried your hardest to avoid that thought process since you stuck around the mansion.

You were surprised to find out that Lucifer accepted an invitation to be on the cover of a magazine for Helluva Times. He hadn't needed makeup or hair done since Lillith left, and in reality, you barely saw him around. You were ashamed about how excited you were to see him again. Of course, it won't be the same as before, but you were looking forward to it nonetheless. You were taken to the studio where the shoot was being held since the one in the mansion was turned into more of a workspace for mending clothing. The studio was brightly lit and bustled with imps and some stylish sinners doing their part. You wondered if It was always like this, or if it was just because of Lucifer. You approached the vanity, the king of Hell seated in a movie set chair, with a golden star on the back, his name embroidered to the center. You were stopped in your tracks when you saw the dark circles that surrounded his eyes. Jesus, he was exhausted. You weren’t exactly surprised, more like distressed. Now that you think about it, Lillith really did a lot of heavy lifting when it came to keeping Hell in line.

"Your Highness." You gave him a little smile and nodded your head, beginning to display your usual setup on the vanity in front of him. "Heyyy! You..! Good to see you, Ahha.. ha.. h-how've you been..? How's... work been..?" He put on a fake smile and propped his head on his hand in a sad attempt to act casual. He switched to crossing his arms, unable to sit still and make eye contact with you at the same time. You didn't know how to react. The last time he was this nervous, he ended up pinning you to a table with his arms around you. You quickly got to work, trying to get the image of that day out of your head.

You go to comb his hair, recognizing that it's been a while since he let anyone tend to it; it was nearly grown to the bottom of his neck and wasn't exactly the cleanest. "Do you have wrinkle-free, clean, clothes every day?" You asked in response to his nervous ramblings from earlier. He nodded slowly," Then work is fine." You picked up on the sudden attitude you had, and it even surprised you. He quickly shut his mouth and started to spin the wedding band on his finger as a nervous fidget.

You had to put some effort in since he wasn't getting the same attention he used to. You gave his golden locks some much-needed attention, running a number of products through them and taking the time to restore it to its usual length. You found yourself peaking at his face every now and then, which he didn't notice. He was too indulgent to even keep his eyes open. You tried to stop yourself from looking at his relaxed expression, but you found yourself turning away only when he opened his eyes. You checked the clock, you definitely had some time for a more thorough session. You dug your fingers just a bit deeper into his hair, lightly running your nails across his scalp. In several swirling motions, you had him melting in your hands. You had to stop every now and then and push his head back up after it lulled to the side. It usually kept him alert for a moment, but it never lasted long. He let out a subtle hum every now and then, making you bite your lip in some attempt to keep whatever you were feeling at bay.

After you finished your little massage, you quickly finished up his hair, giving him a very-needed trim and styling it to its usual glory. You instinctively placed your hands on his shoulders once you finished and leaned in a bit to look at the results.

"So? What do you think? You needed a haircut, sir, you should… keep in touch.. If you need me, I'm here." A grin grew on your face and he couldn’t help but sigh at the sight of your smiling face. He turned his head to the left and the right, reaching up to touch his face delicately. He was less worried about messing it up and more worried about you scolding him for it. He let out a little huff and he opened his mouth, with no words coming out. It took him a moment." It's great, but uhh.. Could you do the – " He spun his fingers around his cheeks," you know, the.. Little loopy.. Bits..?"

God, what a cutie.

You let out a little chuckle and nodded, turning his chair to face you." My bad, how could I forget the loopy bits?" You teased, reaching out to either side of his head. Your hands lulled over his cheeks for some reason you wouldn’t explain. Finally, you untucked the bits of hair from behind his ears, pulling them forward and twirling them with your fingers. You placed your hands on your hips, still bent to be at his eye level.

"There. Ready for makeup, Lucifer?" Your words didn't come naturally, it took you a few seconds to debate whether or not to call him by his name. With his voice cracking in an attempt to respond, he just nodded, attempting to keep some dignity intact. You did your best to act professional, despite his lovely reactions. You started as you usually did, applying an easy base and highlighting his rosy cheeks. You never needed to do much to his face, and even after all this time, you still didn’t need to. Must be his angelic abilities, that his skin never really changes. You shrugged off the thought, getting ready to focus on his eyes. Instead of keeping his chin up, you took a light hold of his jaw, your fingers grazing his neck and your thumb placed dangerously close to the side of his lips. You both reacted to this new method, but you quickly went to work to prevent any more eye contact.

You took your time and it was clear neither of you cared to bring it up. He was past his call time, but when some poor stylist working for the news team came in to get him, Lucifer used his threatening status to give you both more time. After you finished covering the dark rings surrounding his eyes and prettying them up a bit, you mirrored your other hand and essentially cupped his cheeks. You did your best to make it look like it was for work purposes, but damn you were enjoying this. Such a beautiful creature in the palm of your hands, looking away because he was too embarrassed to meet your eyes." Look forward, please?" You spoke softly, lightly tapping his cheek to get him to follow your commands. He let out a huff, then finally prepared himself to look into your eyes. The noisy workers coming in and out of the room suddenly disappeared, the room going silent. He had your complete focus, and suddenly there was nothing more important than gazing into his red eyes. His hand moved to your wrist, holding one of your hands in place while he pressed his cheek against your palm. What a sight. You leaned in, not knowing what would happen, but also not really caring. Any chance to get close to –

"Alright your Highness, we're gonna need you on set in five." The harsh sounds of the room suddenly returned, a Hellhound making a more stern request to get this shoot over with. You quickly stood straight, taking up a brush and fixing up the small smudges you had created by holding him. "Rrright! Yup, pretty sure we're almost done, sooo... I'll be right there..! Thanks." He clenched his pointed teeth, as he thanked the brute, who walked off with a scoff. "Good golly – I'm their king! What gives that mutt the right to – " He stopped his rambling once he saw your sheer embarrassment. He took it as a sign that he went too far, that just maybe, he read you wrong.

He turned his head, looking back to his reflection and tracing his little curls with his fingers before letting out a satisfied hum. "Great work as always, my dear." He stood from the chair, stretching his stiff legs with a groan." I should uhm – I'm gonna get going, I have to.. Do the.. Thing – with the thing.." He walked backward towards the exit, pointing over his shoulder. "You mean go to set and get the shots? Hope everything goes okay, sir." You chuckled, going back to cleaning some things up. "Okay, well – oh! Thank you! Right, forgot that part. So, thanks..!" He just kept talking. Like he might never see you again once he left the room. "My pleasure, Lucifer." You hummed, still attending to your tasks. Oh, you should’ve seen the winded look on his face. He let out a wheezing chuckle, tripped over himself, then finally left the studio.

Once all your things were neatly tucked away, you were invited to the shoot. They had an extensive team of people behind the scenes, so you got the chance to just observe the process. They had him run through a number of poses, some regal, some more.. Provocative. Just for fun, they said. It made you cringe, it definitely wasn't his style. Finally deciding on a composition, he had his arms crossed over his chest, and he rested his thumb just below his chin, drawing your eye to his devilish smirk. How could someone who's been hurt as badly as he has, smile for the cover of a magazine?

You made some mental notes on his makeup and his hair, which they squished down with a comically oversized tophat. Trying to keep your mind purely professional became increasingly difficult when he kept looking over at you, his smile twitching every time. He must be tired. That’s clearly why he's acting this way.

"All right, we got it! Wrap it up, people!" An aggressive shout took you away from your phone screen, and you looked around at the rush of workers. You tried to catch anyone's attention to see if you could help with anything, but you never got anyone's attention. It was definitely a change of pace from your past experience, considering you were the lead on a team that really only dressed two people, even if they were royalty. By the time you got back to the studio, it was basically cleaned out, other than your little cart with all the supplies you brought from home. You assumed you were good to go straight home and find something to do other than feeling up the king of Hell; speak of the devil!

"Oh! I.. didn't know you were still here, I thought you left..?" A soft, and mildly raspy, voice came from the door, making you catch Lucifer's eyes in the reflection of the vanity you stood in front of. "No, I was enjoying the show." You leaned against the tabletop after turning to face him, a little smirk on your face. "You did good, by the way. The shots came out really well." You pulled up some of the shots that the company sent to your phone. "These are some very handsome photos.. You're welcome, by the way." You were gloating. He had walked forward to get a better look at your phone screen, squinting his eyes like he needed glasses, despite it being impossible for him to have poor vision. He scoffed at your comment, crossing his arms over his chest. "Well don't let it go straight to your head, dear, you didn't do all the work. I'm just naturally gorgeous, right? You used to say that all the time." He nodded his head to either side as he spoke like he was winning some argument.

"Well, I meant it and it's still true. So, don't let that get to your head." You responded like you were trying to one-up him. He immediately turned red. He can shoot his shots, but deflates at any quick or clever rebuttals." W-Well! I'll try not to.. T-thanks for being here. Not like, here, but like – helping with the shoot, and doing meee – my hair! Love my hair, came out great." Good job, Lucifer. You startled him by running your hands through his locks, attempting to fix up the mess they made by putting a heavy hat on him." Ugh, they ruined it.. It should be an easy fix, I guess... that stupid hat." You grumbled, running your hands along the sides of his head to smooth it out. He was biting his lip when you sent him a quick look." I-I like the hat..." He said weakly. You couldn’t help but let out a little laugh, beginning to pull your hands away. Clawed hands took hold of your wrists, keeping them hovered on either side of his face. "You said... that you'd be there for me no matter what. Do you remember that..?" He relaxed his face, but his hands were shaking just a bit. You nodded slowly.” Well, I’m - I appreciate that.. And you.. I-I appreciate you..”

“If you still.. I don't know, it's been a few years since – but if you still wanted to.. Ugh, dammit..! I don't know how to – " He stuttered over his words, becoming visibly upset, something stopping him from speaking coherently. You couldn't assume he was talking about the little incident from years ago, but if it was still on your mind after all that time, maybe it was still on his. He stepped forward just a bit, his grasp still lightly holding your wrists, keeping him close to you. Waiting for you to respond to a question he never really asked, he gulped, then let out a breathy, fuck it. In one fell swoop, he released your hands and immediately pulled you into a tight embrace. This wasn't like before, this wasn't to console him. His hands were wrapped around your back and cradled the base of your neck, leaving no space between the two of you.

Your entire body tensed, the breath you didn’t realize you were holding in was knocked out of you, and your arms were stuck with your hands pressed against his chest. He loosened his grasp as soon as he held you, but never actually let you go. His head had sunk into your shoulder, trying to hide some kind of adorable expression, you were sure. You had the opportunity to push him away, nothing was truly keeping you there. Physically, at least.

As you stood still, deciding what your next move would be, you'd feel him adjusting his head and turning it to plant his cheek on your collarbone, his breath hot against your chest. You knew he had to feel how hard and fast your heart was beating with how he was nuzzling into you. Focusing on one thing at a time, you tugged your arm out of his hold and lifted his face upwards, at least preventing him from being too close to your rapid heart rate. The next problem was your noses almost touching due to how close you were. His eyes were wide, full of some sort of desperation or fear, and a little bit of excitement. Your fingers still lightly hovered under his chin, and you could feel his pulse. Just as fast as yours, maybe even faster.

You felt him gulp, his face now heating up. Maybe the look in your eyes was too much for him to handle. You looked at the vanity that was just a few feet away. That should make him understand. Taking small steps backwards, which he didn’t understand, but also didn’t question, you kept moving until you felt the table hit your back. You leaned back slowly, forcing him to brace himself against the table to keep his balance. His eyes darted around as it clicked finally. You had put yourself in the same position that you were in years ago. His hands caged you in, and his knee sat between your legs for stability. You remembered it so clearly, you had no trouble bringing the two of you right back to where you left off. You took one of his arms and guided it to support you by the small of your back, then snaked your arms around his shoulders. Then, you closed your eyes and just waited. Just sitting there, anticipation bubbling in your stomach.

Before you knew it, he had softly pressed his lips against yours. You jumped at first, startled by something you were waiting so patiently for. You felt his lips pull away in response, but you were quick to pull his shoulders in, closing the gap again. He let out a little cry against your lips, as you pulled him even closer by wrapping your arms around his neck. He kept one hand at your back and sent the other to your outer thigh, slightly lifting your leg to sit against his hip. With a more secure hold on you, he leaned forward further, until you felt the back of your head hit the mirror with a light thump. "Mmph! Are you okay?" He pulled away for a moment to ask, which only upset you even more. You looked at him as if the answer was obvious, and fisted the collar of his shirt, pulling your lips back together. Clearly, you were fine.

Becoming intoxicated by your lips, he practically begged for a more intimate kiss. He placed a hand on your chin, pulling your mouth ajar with his thumb and quickly entering his tongue in your mouth. The sudden motion left you muttering incoherent praises onto his lips. He pulled away, leaving you in a daze. Once you regained your focus, you were able to reassess your situation. You had slid down the entirety of the vanity, your back fully against the cold material of the counter. One of his hands were propping himself up directly above you, the other still holding your leg, and keeping you from moving away as he pulled you impossibly closer. While letting you catch your breath, he sent a few kisses down your jaw and neck, making you grip his shoulders and hold your breath. He pulled himself away after pressing another quick peck on your lips. "Hey. Breathe. I'll take care of you, don't worry - " How dare he. How could he act so flustered when you did his hair and applied his makeup for literal centuries, then tell you to calm down? You scoffed and smashed your lips back against his, mainly to shut him up, but he wasn’t complaining.

He let out a little yelp against your lips, struggling to keep up with your sudden change of pace. Running your hands through his hair, ruining all the hard work you put into it, you lightly tugged at the hair at the nape of his neck. A shakey sigh met your lips, as you took control of the situation, taking the opportunity to explore his mouth with your own tongue.

After this went on for what felt like forever, which you didn’t really mind, you pulled away to breathe. Looking up to him, your eyes explored the lipstick that messily covered his lips. You tipped his head upward by his chin forcing him to look at himself in the vanity's mirror. He let out a pathetic little wheeze, looking back down at you with a suddenly confident smirk." Beautiful work as always, my dear." He spoke flirtatiously, "You missed a spot, though." Dipping his head back downwards and indulging in your warm presence for as long as he could.

You were clawing at his back, untucking his shirt as you struggled to keep a hold of him. Both your legs had spread, making your hips flush against his. He kept you close, as he nipped and kissed across your collarbone, his sharp teeth grazing your skin without hesitation.

Sucking on the softest part of your neck, you let out a breathy moan and arched your back into his chest. The sudden motion sent friction to his lower half, making him release his teeth and suddenly bolt upwards. The reaction made you nervous, "I-I don't - I haven't.. It's been… Awhile.." He stammered out, putting an emphasis on the word awhile." I know, It's okay." He winced at your nonchalant remark, remembering how often you witnessed his last relationship essentially fall apart, as you went back to kissing his neck. He gently pulled himself away. "Nono, it's been awhile- awhile… I hadn't been close with.. anyone… for a couple.. Decades..?" He spoke nervously like he was embarrassed to admit it. You sat up for a moment, making him question whether or not he should've said anything." But.. It's only been five years, right?" You weren't sure if this was the best time to be getting into this, but these are answers you’ve been wanting for years.

"I don't know what happened, sweetheart, but we lost what we had long before any of this. I'm sorry if you thought.. I can't have you take on that burden.. Okay?" He cupped your face, shifting to a more tender approach. You tried piecing things together in your mind, which was still cloudy from the past few hours. Of course, that still doesn’t make what you two did right. Of course, you blamed yourself after all this time. He pulled you out of your thoughts, by tucking a bit of hair behind your ear and keeping his tender hold on your cheek. You couldn’t help but smile and nuzzle your face into his hand.

"We can stop if you want, love." Oh how you wanted to say stop. To say that you were terrible people for even feeling this way after all this time, while he was with his wife. Who also happened to be your employer. How scandalous. "No, I want this." You said without a hint of hesitation in your voice. It shocked him a bit, but he didn’t have much time to react before you leaned forward, unbuttoning his coat and pushing it off his shoulders. You pulled him in by his collar again, continuing to remove his vest, then opening his shirt, letting it hang open loosely, his white skin just barely peeking out. He shrugged comically, before going back to working on your neck, pulling at the hem of your blouse that had already fallen to your shoulders.

He ran his hands along your curves, eliciting a shiver down your spine. You reached your hands into his open shirt, your warm hands trailing across his even warmer chest. Your physical pleasure was subdued for a moment, absolutely in awe. "You have beautiful skin, Lucifer." Your voice was breathy, he lulled his head to the side, melting at your words and intimate touch. After a moment he let out a sweet chuckle and shrugged his top completely off. "So I've been told." Implying your constant praises from before, he puffed his chest out.

Oh, he was loving this. You sat up, your legs just at the edge of the countertop as you arched your back into him, closing the gap between your hips. You started by pressing a little kiss on his cheek, his face heating up even after all he's done to you. You then, moved your way down to work your lips across his neck and collarbone. Gently tracing his spine with one hand the other traveled downward as you pulled his hips into yours. Messaging his hip and continuously running your fingers along the center of his back, you sent him into sensory overload. You weren't surprised by the sudden bulge you felt hitting your center, in fact, you reveled how that confirmed you were doing a good job. You began sucking and biting on the skin, stopping to let out breathy mewls into his ear. The massaging of his hip turned into you pulling him in, then pushing him away slightly, only to viciously repeat the motion, forcing him to start grinding against you. Your hand on his back continued to trail up and down his spine, only you started to drag your nails across his skin as well, digging in a bit harder whenever you heard his voice hitch. You let your fingers slip into his pants every now and then, the cool sensation of your hands making him let out a little whimper.

"Your skin really is perfect, Lucifer. You are entirely beautiful. You're absolutely stunning, my king." You hummed into his ear, your skilled hands continuing to drive him crazy. He could barely keep up, his head falling back whenever you'd reach up to run your fingers through his hair. "K-Kiss me.." You heard him almost whisper, making you pull back for a moment to assess his stature. He had his hands on your hips, to keep you close, but also to keep him standing on his swaying feet. "I-I need you to.. kiss me.. Please.." He spoke in choppy sentences, he was too lost in his own pleasure to keep his head up, so you kept it forward by cradling the back of his head. When his head would start to droop too far forward, you gave his hair a light tug to remind him where he was. Did he need permission? You enjoyed the 180 he had made from the flirtatious tease just moments ago, humming in thought and tapping your chin like you were still deciding. Like you were considering not kissing him as passionately as he could handle.

He was lightly grinding his hard-on into you but still seemed patient enough to wait for your answer. "Well.. Since you said please." You finally said after far too long. He let out a sigh of relief as you inched towards him. You left your lips just over his, only letting him feel your heated breath against his lips. He shifted his stance but never moved towards you. You brushed your lips against his, not locking them together, just barely grazing them. He let out an impatient groan, his eyes clenched shut as you teased him so cruelly. Who knew this is what would bring tears to his eyes? You ran your hands up his chest, then dug your nails into him as you went back down. You finally met his lips, deciding he had enough after you wiped away a tear from his watering eyes. You don't know how he still managed to keep the kiss so tender after acting so desperate beforehand. You continuously wiped the tears off his face, keeping your hands on his face and caressing his cheeks with your thumbs. As you pulled away, he followed your lips, disappointed in the sudden disconnect. He took the silence and the look on your face as a sign, that he needs to tell you what he wants.

He dropped to his knees, the warmth you had sitting between your legs was hit with the cool air of the room as he did. He kept his hands off of you and himself but fiddled with his thumbs to keep them busy in some way. He took in a deep breath, before speaking quickly," Can I taste you?" His voice was embarrassingly loud like he was just waiting and waiting to finally say it. It sort of shocked you, you assumed he’d be nervous after admitting he hadn't done this in a while. You pulled your legs together, finally feeling how wet you were becoming, but needing to commit to the bit. You crossed your ankles to furth prevent access. "I suppose so.. But what do you saay?" you reached down and tapped the tip of his nose, as you dragged out your words like you were speaking to a child. "Please..! I need to touch you, please.." He quickly replied, with no hesitation at all. "Good boy." That was it for you.

You realized you sealed your fate, as you felt him take a hold on your knees and pull them back apart gently. He moved forward until he could rest his head on your plush thigh, which he did for a while. He lifted your skirt up to your waist, then took a moment to appreciate the view. You were finally becoming a bit embarrassed, attempting to close your legs instinctively, but he pushed your legs farther apart, keeping a tight hold onto your thighs. When he looked up at you, his eyes were wide and innocent, as if he wasn’t keeping your legs apart and wiggling his hips to give some much-needed friction to his own growing problems.

He blinked, then looked back down, trailing his clawed finger across your wet underwear. You covered the sounds you were making with the back of your hand, still struggling to keep your legs open for him. He bent his finger and pressed it deeply into your still-clothed entrance. The sensation of the fabric digging into you made you groan, but that didn’t affect him at all. He licked his lips and began gathering spit in his mouth and he pushed your legs back in place, keeping them apart this time. Running his forked tongue across your panties, you squirmed under his touch. As he lapped at the fabric, the heat from his breath and the wetness he was coating you with caused you to fall back onto your forearms. "L-Lucifer - " You said weakly, quickly drawing his attention. "This is cruel." You pouted, continuing to let out a little whimper as he kept running two of his fingers across your underwear.

He cocked his head to the side as if he didn’t understand the damage he was doing. He was playing dumb." Oh? I'm sorry, love, how should I touch you then?" He was way too calm for your liking. He let one of his fingers just graze the hem, only touching a bit of your skin. You let out an annoyed groan, and move your underwear to the side, guiding the tip of his finger to your entrance. With your hand holding his wrist, you pushed his fingers inside of you, a strange sensation to say the least. It was embarrassing. He noticed your discomfort and finally dropped the act, sending you a sweet smile and kissing your thigh before starting to pump his fingers inside of you.

You let out a sultry moan, a mixture of relief and pure pleasure finally hitting you as you felt him add another finger without any real warning. You lulled your head back, not able to see his absolute focus on matching the rhythm of his fingers to the circling of your clit. Before you could fully comprehend, he pulled his hands away and back onto your thighs, delving into your center with a heated, open-mouthed kiss. Letting out a gasp, he delved into your folds, his tongue easily slipping from your entrance and back up to your clit. He lifted a hand to continue to slowly rub his thumb in small circles, so he could focus his tongue on thrusting in and out of your entreance with ease.

He showed no sign of faltering as you bucked into his face, desperate for more of him. Your hands moved to his hair, taking a tight hold as he hit right where he was supposed to. He scrunched his face, letting out a low growl as you yanked at his scalp, the vibrations startling you in a wonderful way. He only sped up when you started to babble about being close, letting your thighs tighten around his face as you finish into his lips. He continues his rapid pace, the adrenaline from being squeezed by your shaky legs taking over. You finally pulled his head away from you after the pleasure of overstimulation started to ache in your core. You sunk backward, your body twitching on occasion.

He planted a kiss on your thigh before rising back to his feet. He leaned into you, the fabric over his groin coated in your juices the longer he pressed in. He pecked your temple, looking at you, completely unphased." Too much? How did I do..?" He seemed genuinely interested in whether or not he did a good job." Y-you did.. Great.. It was g-good.. Felt good.." You gave a pathetic thumbs up as you caught your breath." W-what happened to the whole it's been a while thing? Fuck, Lucifer." You sat up finally seeing that he split the fabric of your underwear at some point to gain better access." Guess I've still got it." He said with a smirk, waggling his eyebrows at you. You couldn’t take him seriously. Your wetness and lipstick stained his mouth, the eyeliner you had applied had ran down his cheeks and rubbed under his eyes. Not to mention, he was covered in your marks. It's fine you can cover those, you thought. Even with his sudden burst of dominance, you took pride in the fact that this was all because of you. He was all yours.

☆☆☆

If you're curious, that one is pushing 10k words ;)

(Tagging some people who might appreciate it) @saints-wrapped-in-plastic @bat-boness @christineblood

[saint--claire]

When I was a little child, there was a particular library book I checked out week after week, endlessly renewing it as much as I was able. The book, How to Raise and Keep a Dragon by John Topsell was a quasi-nonfiction guide to, as you guessed, rearing different species of dragons. I loved it. Tiny-me had plans.

As an adult, I tried to buy it a few times. No dice. The book was so old that no mainstream bookseller stocked it. Even when I tried niche websites recommended by various booksellers and librarians, I still couldn't find it. It was sadly lost to time, apparently not popular enough to make it into the archives.

But.

My best friend had a copy of that book. We're going to call her G, for several reasons not relevant at the moment. I was discussing my search with G one day, for some reason I can't remember now. She got a funny look on her face, asked me a few questions about the cover, listened to me do a very poor job of explaining with my hands how the hardcover copy had included a real gemstone in the dragon's forehead, and then went off to fish it out of her bookcase.

I was Gobsmacked.

I should not have been, given that the history of shared childhood books between us both would have made a circle with ragged edges, more so than a venn diagram, but I digress. The book came home to live in my house for a few months, and I was delighted by the chance to read it again.

Do people remember those type of books? Dragonology, Egyptology, The Stone Age - a way of introducing children to non fiction. They very earnestly spoke about the responsibilities needed to raise dragons, the practicalities involved. There was a record of registration you could fill out, if you had carefully considered the information to your self and felt you were responsible enough to to go through with adopting a dragon.

I vaguely remember filling out some of the riddle and puzzle questions in the Dragonology books. I would never have written in John Topsell's book, it was a library book.

But.

When I re-read G's copy at home, smiling over the familiar artwork, I was surprised to turn the page and find the painstaking, somewhat-wonky handwriting staring back at at me. Baby G, with her name spelled out in freshly-joined but still-not-quite-got-the-hang-of-this-yet cursive lettering. Baby G had filled the registration out in her best handwriting, in glittery green gel pen to denote the importance of the document. This was compared to the earlier, less important checklists done in plain black ink.

I read the registration certificate. Smiled. Smiled some more at the names listed for G's dragon, her dam, and her sire - Eragon was also a great book. Go off, Christopher Paolini.

Breed; standard Western Dragon. The box 'miniture' was ticked, to show that G's dragon was of the minature specic variety, rather than a full size dragon. This was, as she would later explain to me, chosen on the basis that baby-G felt it was the more financially responsible choice. Also so she could keep her dragon in her house with her, but we're not there yet.

I looked at that certificate. Looked at it again. Looked at the calendar, and then looked at the sewing machine I had just been given for Christmas.

G celebrates her birthday in January.

The template came first. I studied the different images of the standard western dragon through the book, picked my favourite, and re-drew it to a significantly larger scale.

Inking the design to the fabric, four times over probably took the longest.

I very subtly asked G the next time she was over (after hurling all dragon-related materials in a panic into the depths of my wardrobe) what type of colour dragon she would have, should it come up. As G later said, that type of question from me truly did not register as anything other than a question asked from theoretical interest. I transitioned the topic as discreetly as I could after she answered, and delightfully, my sneakiness went in one ear, out the other, and she forgot I had ever asked until several weeks later.

I enjoyed painting them.

Don't ask me how many mistakes I made through this process. So many. I do already know how to sew, but it's been a long time. I'd been meaning to get back into it for a while.

Given that various aunts and grandmothers and my mother had a knack for calling when I was up to my elbows in either paint or pins, it became a family affair. Each of them peered at the project through face time and offered their advice.

Some of the advice I took, some I didn't. No regrets about sewing it in pink thread. Considerable regrets about accidentally slicing one of the feet in half and having to fix that.

In the end though, she was finished.

I carefully pinned on her name tag, with the name baby-G had chosen with a little blue ribbon. A collar was unacceptable, this is a dragon, people, come on. Dragon's don't wear collars.

I put the book in the box, open to the registration certificate, and put the dragon on top. Wrapped the whole thing up with a bow and then refused to touch it before I sent myself mad trying to fix details that didn't really need to be fixed.

A bit late for her birthday, sure, but there we are. We'd gone for a trip off to nowhere for a weekend, to go try wine made out of blueberries and hike up a waterfall. (And climb on it. And swim in it. It was a very good waterfall).

I gave her the box, informed her she wasn't allowed to keep the box, just the contents (it was the only thing I had that was big enough for me to keep all of my A3 portfolios in, it had only been temporarily-repurposed as dragon housing), and then left the next bit up to the gods.

A surprise, sitting un-awaited for some 15 years in amber, to catch up to baby G and adult G together.

Happy Birthday, baby and adult G.

[sleepyconfusedpotato]

More of You, Pt. 1

Direct continuation from the fic Wildflower! I'd recommend reading it first before this one (｡･∀･)ﾉﾞ

Part 2

One month since Ghost got deployed, one month since their 'date' got postponed, until Laswell called Jade to tell her that he'd gone missing in action.

Pairing : Simon “Ghost” Riley x Charlotte “Jade” Le Jardin (OC)

Word Count : ~ 7.8k words (I overdid it but idc lmao)

Warning : some angst with flufff don't worry, some whump, light gore, hurt/comfort, and good ol’ cursings.

Prompt : There's only one bed oop

Title and story inspired by the song with the same title by JP Saxe!

*****

“Ghost, give me a sitrep now!” 

“Watcher-1, things are not lookin’ good-- They found me.”

“We cannot get you an exfil in that area. You need to lose them first. Get out of there right now!”

“My ammo’s runnin’ out… I can’t lose them—”

“Ghost, do you copy?!

“Ghost!”

---

It's been two months since Simon told her that he's going out of the country to go on a mission. It's honestly crazy how much she missed him already, considering the fact that they were not even a couple yet. Jade couldn't even fathom how much his presence, or at least his mere existence in the same country, meant to her. Two months felt so long. Too long. 

No one to call her names, no one to ask her to go explore London culinaries, no one to go thrifting with (for Ghost's lack of variety of wardrobe), no one to have a drink while stargazing.

And no one to hug. 

Well, not that she ever hugged him for more than 2 seconds anyway. Ghost was certainly not a hugger. The only times they hug were after each… 'date', they'd come in contact for a short hug, before Ghost took off. 

He must've hated hugs. 

Jade sighed, resting her chin on her palm at the Le Jardin floristry counter.

It was a slow day. There were a few pre-orders, but there weren't even 15 clients that came in. One hour until the shop closes, and Jade was the only person at the shop. Her employees had left, while her parents were on a trip to Asia. Honestly, it miffed her, because now her mind was full of Ghost and Ghost only.

Where is he?, she wondered. 

The ringtone of her phone snapped her out of her thoughts. Jade reached for her phone on the counter, and Laswell's name was written on the screen. She raised her eyebrow at the sight, thinking of what else the CIA agent had in store for her after Jade clearly told her that she was retired. 

Rolling her eyes, Jade tapped the green button and put the phone on her ear, "Kate, you can't just call me whenever you run out of people to send out–"

"Ghost is MIA."

Not even a second later, her legs brought her to the front door before she flipped the tag from 'Open' to 'Closed'. "For how long?"

"Yesterday." Laswell's calm voice continued on the phone, "Ghost going dark is not an uncommon occurrence. He's used to it, and all this time he always comes back, but the situation was awry."

"What happened before he went MIA?" Jade switched the light off, climbed the stairs to reach her room and quickly opened her drawer to change into 'proper' clothes. 

"We had an intel about a hidden drug stash in South America. There was a suspicion that it might be related to the Las Almas drug cartel. After months of tracking, Ghost then found a hidden facility. He went to investigate, but it appeared that his position was compromised, and the last thing we know, he was being chased by the Narcos before the radio cut off." The CIA agent explained, her tone was stable, yet there was a tinge of guilt in them. "I fear he might be in a dangerous situation, or worse."

Zipping up her turtleneck, Jade then walked to her father's study, obtaining the key to open the discreet stash of weapons behind the shelves. 

"Price and Gaz are with Farah in Urzikstan, while Soap is halfway around the globe on another mission." 

She took her plate carrier, her karambit knives and their holsters, plus her firearms along with the ammo. 

“I apologize to you, Jade. I truly do. But you're our best tracker, and I know what he means to you, so I notified you first.”

Putting all the necessary pieces of equipment into a duffle bag, Jade then lifted the bag downstairs, moving fast to the backdoor and made her way to her sedan, sitting in the driver’s seat. 

“Your wheels are up in 3 hours and I'll brief you more on the way. Are you up for this?”

“Brief me now.”

-----

The facility was deep in the middle of a rainforest. Made of cement, hidden by the tall trees of South America, it was a well-hidden building, obviously far out of the public eye.

Hiding behind the tall bushes and her steps covered by the pouring rain, it was relatively easy for her to take a tour around the building to scout the area. Jade could at least count 12 armed guards outside, guarding the many sides of the building. They rotate the place constantly every hour, occasionally talking into their radio for reports. 

Twelve was a ton of people for the building’s size, almost too much. They were in the middle of a rainforest and far from any city. The only reason they need this much guard out would be a whole pack of hungry jaguars. 

However, judging by the number of Narcos' dead bodies that Jade had encountered in the mud along the way, the reason for the many guards was definitely not big cats.

Ghost. 

He must’ve stealthily killed his way in, and somehow he got noticed by a guard, and they started to hunt him down with guns blazing.

Jade swallowed. The only thing she was relieved about was the fact that none of those lifeless bodies was Ghost’s. It had been 4 days since Laswell lost contact with him. Ghost being captured had the highest possibility at this point, as the guards might not be placed to guard against who’s outside. 

But to contain who’s inside. 

"Watcher-1 this is Sierra-4, twelve armed guards on the exterior. I'm thinking of infiltrating them from the south side of the building." Jade spoke with a low voice to her PTT, preparing herself to go in, picturing every single step of her feet towards the building, every motion of her limbs to reach the point of entrance.

"Copy that, Sierra-4, you may proceed. Keep updating me on the situation."

Just after Laswell’s confirmation, sounds of gunshots rang from inside the building. That shocked and confused Jade as she lowered her scope which she had used to scout the area. All the guards turned around to face the building as more shots were fired from the inside. She could hear their loud chatters and shoutings through their radios, panic was written all over their faces as most of them ran inside to check the situation. 

Jade couldn’t quite hear what the guards were talking about as their voices were muffled by the rain, but one thing she could clearly hear in Spanish was,

‘The prisoner escaped!’

Ghost was fighting his way out.

"Watcher-1, I hear gunshots from the inside. I suspect it's Ghost." Jade spoke with urgency in her voice.

"Copy that, Sierra-4. It's your move. You need to go in and help him." Laswell replied.

"Way ahead of ya."

"Good luck." 

She scoffed, half-afraid and half-amused, taking aim with her rifle again as the guards were lowered to five. It was equipped with a suppressor, and taking out the dumbfounded guards outside was an easy fit. Their heads exploded upon impact with her bullets before collapsing to the ground, leaving the exterior unguarded. It was finally time for her to get inside.

To finally see him. 

'See you tomorrow, Lottie.'

Ghost had said before he softly kissed her on her cheek, promising to ice skate and eat Korean barbecue with her on the 15th of February, only for her to be left disappointed when she received a text from him the next morning that he’ll be going on a mission. This mission. 

Jade gritted her teeth at the memory, "I'm going in."

Rushing forward to the entrance of the building, She used her feet to silently press herself to the cement walls, the sound of gunshots was still going, albeit muffled. It’s like the sounds were coming from below. 

Basement.

Loading her HK416, Jade infiltrated the area. She perceived at least four armed people in the main room, all looking towards one particular hallway while muttering nervously in Spanish, which she immediately suspected was the way to where Ghost was. Throwing a stun grenade inside, five bodies quickly fell to the ground from her shots.

Suddenly, another group of armed narcos came out of another room from the northern side, opening fire towards Jade while she was reloading. A bullet went past her shoulder, the sound of it ripping the air around it left a ringing sound on her ear. She could do nothing but quickly hide herself from the incoming rain of bullets behind a wall. The narcos emptied their mags like their fingers were glued to the trigger. It seemed like they were not properly trained.

When they were reloading, Jade took another flashbang and threw the can to the middle of the group. Quickly canting her aim, her rifle couldn't pick a better time to be jammed, prompting her to curse and switch to the pistol on her hips on the right and picked up her karambit blade with her left. 

While the guards were stunned, it became muscle memory from there. Taking out three front-most people with the gun, using another as a shield from the incoming aimless fire, slitting the throat, and then  another Narco in the face with the butt of the gun before forcing her blade up to the under jaw.

Having cleared the main room, Jade huffed, quickly fixing the jammed rifle, and proceeded by silently going even further into the building. 

There was a long hallway with a number of doors along them. Jade smacked one door open, only to see white-coloured blocks of drugs on a table, and judging from the colour, cocaine must be the identity of the drug. She checked each and every one of the doors and found the same things. This building was a drug warehouse; a place where the drugs were stored before their export or distribution for sale. At first, she couldn’t discern for sure if this facility was indeed owned by the Las Almas drug cartel, but when she looked upon the notable stamp of El Sin Nombre’s skull, her doubt vanished.

Jade then moved further into the hallway and reached an intersection, where another set of gunshots and screams found her ears. Her legs brought her closer to the noise, finding a stairway downwards to the basement area. She quickly descended the stairs, finding herself surrounded by a dirty, poorly dug tunnel. Nevertheless, the ex-MI6 focused on her objective and ran to the source of the sound, when she finally reached the source of all the ruckus.

She turned from a corner with her aim up on an intersection, finding Ghost with his mask on, fighting four men at once, below them were the bodies of Narcos that he had killed prior. With a knife in one hand and his own pistol in the other, he stabbed a Narco in the neck and used his body as a shield from the incoming bullets. He then threw the knife straight at his assaulter’s face as Jade saw the other two taking aim at him. Upon reflex, Jade shot down the remaining Narcos, leaving Ghost the one standing alone in the tunnel seemingly dumbfounded at what just happened right in front of him.

With relief washing over her, Jade rushed towards Ghost, finding him still standing, still fighting, still alive. “Ghost!”

Only to be welcomed by the barrel of his gun aiming straight at her. 

Before Ghost could pull his trigger, Jade’s reflex kicked in and defeated her own sadness and sorrow of not seeing him for more than two months, and leapt to his side, grabbing the barrel of the firearm away from her. She then used her speed and abundance of energy to kick his ankle strong enough to push Ghost off his balance. He fell down to the ground with a loud thud on his back. Jade kicked the pistol out of his hand, before putting her whole weight to press on his entire figure. 

Still, Ghost was known for his superior combat ability and survival instinct. His hand found another knife on his hip holster, ready to stab the person who was holding him down.

“Simon!” 

The sound of his first name stopped his knife on its track, stopping right beside her neck – a few mere inches before blood could’ve been spilt. And just after he heard his name, he felt a soft touch on his uninjured cheek. 

Jade had opened his mask, revealing his face in the open. With how skilled and lethal Ghost was as an operator, she never thought she’d ever see Ghost in this state. His left cheek and eye were swollen, and there were traces of blood running down his temple. Even though black in colour, his clothes had darker spots where only blood could stain them. He had his plate carrier and his knife holsters on, but they too were stained with blood. 

And his eyes, it was filled with rampage, pure anger and wild want for blood. Yet it was unfocused, like a blind beast ready to get rid of anyone standing in his way. 

Imprisonment. Torture. 

“It’s me. It’s me. I’m here for you. You’re okay.” He blinked a number of times, and the red fog that had been clouding his vision disappeared, finding the face of the woman he loved right above him.

“You’re okay now. I’m here. Please, it’s over, Simon.” Her shaky voice continued, desperation filling her tone. Her green eyes were already brimming with tears threatening to fall down. “It’s over.” She breathed, hoping that somehow, her voice could bring him back.

“...Midget?” 

Hearing her nickname in his deep, hoarse voice was all the sign she needed. Ghost lowered his knife, and before he knew it, Jade dropped down to hug Ghost tightly, burying her face in his shoulders. She sobbed into the side of her neck, grasping his clothes with her fingers in relief. Finally, finally, he’s back in her arms. After days of anxious and dark thoughts about losing the only man she’s ever allowed herself to love, he’s finally here, in her arms.

However, that relief was short-lived as Ghost grabbed her shoulders and lifted her smaller figure away from him. “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOIN’ HERE?!” 

That response startled her, “WH– I’M HERE TO SAVE YOU, YOU BIG BOZO!”

“YOU SHOULD NOT BE HERE!”

Jade then wrestled her way out of Ghost’s weak hands, “YOU WENT MIA FOR DAYS!”

“FUCKIN’ HELL–” Trying to sit up abruptly turned out to be a big mistake as a sharp pain burst out from his side, making him grunt out loud. Noticing this, Jade held him up before he fell back down to the floor. She then glanced to his side, and there, she caught sight of a fresh graze wound on his side. Observing him further, she found a crudely tied, blood-stained bandage wrapped around his right shoulder. Judging by the sight of it, this might be the lucky shot that had subdued Ghost and made the Narcos manage to capture him. 

Nevertheless, they needed to get out of this building before reinforcements arrived. Seeing the condition he was in, he'll need some assistance to even stand now. fighting off the reinforcement would be impossible. “This warehouse – where’s the supervisor?”

“I gutted him.” He growled, hatred filling his voice. She could easily deduce that the supervisor was the one who had been inflicting these wounds to him.

And so, she used all her strength to lift and help Ghost stand up. "Can you walk?" 

"I can–" he stumbled to the wall, using his pained arms to support himself up. "Fuck…" It had been four days since he went MIA. That meant four days of badly treated wounds, blood spilling from the tortures, and no food. Still, he managed to escape and fight his way out, leaving dead bodies as his footsteps.

Such mental fortitude was something to be feared indeed.

"Alright, come 'ere, Big Man." Jade sneaked her hand behind his back and circled his arm around her shoulder before assisting him to quickly walk out of the damned warehouse. To hell with these drugs and the people inside. 

"Watcher-1, this is Sierra-4.” Pressing the PTT, Jade contacted the CIA. “I've secured Bravo 0-7. I repeat, Bravo 0-7 is secured."

—------

Prior to arriving at the warehouse, Jade had located a rickety old cabin inside the forest. It was placed near a river far away from the warehouse. Though it’s not fully hidden, it worked well as a resting place for the night as it was pretty deep inside the forest, and of course, because there’s no way that the man that she was currently holding up could walk all the way to the nearby city. 

Stepping into the wooden floors of the cabin, Jade glanced to the side where she found a single bed placed on the edge of the room. “There’s a bed there. Let’s get you down.” Straining her voice from holding Ghost’s weight for the entire 30-minute walk there, she finally sat Ghost down on the bed before he collapsed to his back, panting heavily and clearly out of fuel.

“Fuck… I’m beat.” He managed to breathe out with his sore voice.

“Here, drink some water. Drink all of it since we have a river in front.” Jade gave her own canteen to him, to which he chugged down to the last drop while still lying down. 

In the meantime, Jade tinkered with her radio, pressing down on her PTT to contact Laswell.

“Watcher-1 this is Sierra-4 do you copy?” 

Not long, the radio buzzed, “Sierra-4 this is Watcher-1, send traffic.” 

“We’re currently holed up in an old cabin near a river about four clicks northwest of the warehouse. His radio was destroyed by a bullet, so that might be why his comms suddenly disappeared.”

A loud sigh of relief could be heard on the radio, “That’s great news. How is he looking?” 

She took a glance at Ghost, who was still laying back while covering his eyes with the back of his hand. “Beat. But alive. Very lean. Injuries and wounds all over. He’d worn his mask when I found him, but…” A thought had been weighing on her mind the whole way they walked to the cabin. “If he got captured, then the first thing the Narcos did was obviously to take off his mask. Is his identity compromised now?”

“No. It’s still the same as ever. Even if they saw his face - as long as Ghost didn’t give out his name - there’s no record of his face anywhere. Every earlier visual identity had also been redacted.” Jade raised her eyebrows. So that’s how he maintained his anonymity all this time. 

“That sounds like him. Anyway, we’re pretty deep in the woods. Sun’s going down, and the nearest town is around 15 kilos from here. I think we need to lay low for a while.” 

“Copy that. I’ll see what I can do for your exfil, I’ll be in touch. You guys should rest for a while.” Laswell finally said, a tone of calm in her voice. “And thank you so much, Jade. I’m sorry for dragging you back again.”

Jade could only scoff at that. “It’s fine. Besides, if you’d sent out anyone else to find him… I’d be a wee~ bit offended.” 

“Oh? Is this what I think it is?” She could clearly hear the wide smile on the CIA agent’s face.

“I’m gonna go patch the big man up now. Sierra-4 out.” Finally finishing her report with Laswell’s chuckle as the last thing she heard, Jade sighed, watching the strong and steady flow of the river below. It was freezing, but at least they had shelter. Now all she needed to do was keep Ghost alive and comfortable while keeping tabs with Laswell.

—

"Lottie, why are you here."

Ghost’s strained voice pulled Jade’s attention from the wound that she was currently treating on his shoulder. That crudely-tied bandage was not replaced at all after his capture and left a terrible-looking injury, which by the look of it, was obviously infected that when she’d pulled it, the skin that already tried to heal got pulled along with it.

"What? I thought I said to you already. Your radio cut off abruptly, so Laswell sent me out to find you." Jade answered, still dabbing cotton onto the lacerated skin caused by the bullet.

"Fuckin' hell…" 

That tone irked her. "You sound like you don't want me here."

"That's right! I do NOT want you here!" Ghost yelled to her, making her lean back on the chair she was sitting on and stopped what she was doing. His angered face was a new sight for her.

"What?! Are you telling me to just stay back while I know you were captured?!"

“Laswell knew for a fact that this was not my first time going MIA. She did not have to tell you about it because as you could see, I got out on my own.” He told her harshly, that tone starting to aggravate her.

“You were missing! Can’t you see that I was worried for you?!” Jade countered, trying to keep her composure while he palmed his face in visible frustration, “More than two months you’ve been gone for a mission alone, and now that I finally have news about you, I was told that your radio cut off with gunshots!” 

“You should’ve just stayed home and get on with your days. I never asked for you to come here.” Gravely he told her as he saw Jade’s eyes start to turn sombre. Those words came out of his mouth on their own.

Deep inside, Ghost knew what was coming – He needed to stop himself.

“I found you battered and bruised, Simon! You can’t just expect me to–”

"I don't need you to save me!”  He raised his voice harshly, shocking her. 

No. That was not what he wanted to say. 

He knew; he truly knew it was the opposite. 

He didn't want her to get hurt.

"I don't need you!” 

Her face was everything he needed to know that he fucked up. Ghost saw her face turn to dread like her heart just got stabbed a thousand times over, that after everything she did, after everything she felt – it was only for him to tell her those words. 

For a moment the only thing they heard was the pouring rain outside. 

Before Ghost saw the woman in front of him grit her teeth, seeming like she chose to not believe what he just said.

“There were at least a dozen armed guards outside! What did you think you could do with those wounds?!" It was her turn to raise her voice, “If I hadn't been there to find you, what could you do with a gun an a knife?!"

It was the last thing that snapped him. Ghost ignored all the pain in his arms to grab onto her shoulders, 

“I CAN’T LOSE YOU!” 

And just like that, Jade gasped as she blinked. His grasp on her shoulder felt firm yet shaky, and she couldn’t tell if it was because of the searing pain or from the emotion he felt, as this is the first time she saw Ghost with that expression. Maskless, bruises all over, bloodshot eyes brimming with tears, and a face that had desperation and sorrow painted all over it.

He started with a low voice, but the emotions in his words still remained, “You’ve left this life for a reason, Lottie. And for a good one. Think of your mother, your father, your friends, who love you and care for you! What if you get hurt alone inside this fucking rainforest?! What if you die, huh?! What do I say to your parents?!"

"What if you die?!" Jade countered, trying to make sense of his words.

"I don't fucking care if I die!"

"You say that as if no one is waiting for you to come home! I DO!” Jade grabbed both of his hands from her shoulders, gathering them with her own. ”I love you!"

Her action surprised Ghost, but more than anything, the last three words felt like an epiphany. 

"You think Kate should've just shut up about it and left me in the dark?! Well, that's just fucking stupid, Ghost. If you think that you did this for me, then you're wrong!” She shouted bitterly, her scowl taking over her face in such a way that it looked out of place, tears already brimming in her eyes. 

"You think I didn't know that your missions are dangerous? I know that! That's why I can't just stand back while I know I have the full capability to find you! If it means that I can finally have you back, then to hell with my retirement! Great, now I'm crying!" All that stress and frustration of finding him these last four days came out of her in the form of tears streaming down her cheek. The thought of finding him beaten up, all bloody, or even worse, lifeless on the ground had been eating her mind. Nevertheless, she moved her body to find him, clinging to a desperate hope that he was still alive somehow. 

Ghost could only watch as Jade buried her face in her palms, her sobs muffled by her hands. "We had a date, Simon…" That sentence felt like a thousand knives impaling his heart. He remembered being very excited that early morning, anticipating the ‘date’ with her. He remembered himself being so happy and delighted for the date, heck, he even fucking looked through his wardrobe to find the best fit for the occassion, only to be left feeling empty when he suddenly got a call to go on a mission. He could still recall how shaky his hands were when texting Jade that he couldn’t make it for the date.

"I was waiting for it. It's my first date, ever. So I'm sorry if I'm a little excited to see you, alright?" Jade raised her head to face him again, revealing her messy hair, red eyes, and cheeks smeared by tears. “I can’t lose you too."

Ghost didn't know if it was because of his courage or something else, but he moved his hand and put it right above hers, gently enveloping her hands. "I don't want you to get hurt, especially because of me." He started, looking softly into her eyes, "I'm sorry." 

Hearing that broke something in him, as for once in his life, someone waited for him to come home. Someone wanted him to be fine, and it felt… foreign.

Now, that person was sitting before him. The woman he loved, and the one who loved him back, more than he deserved. 

The fact that Ghost initiated the touch made butterflies fly wildly inside her stomach. The temperature of his skin was quite alarming though, so she kept that in mind. "Well thank you, for your consideration, but please,” Jade lifted her arm to wipe her face from the tears aggressively, sniffing her nose. “I can't have you just promise me a date one day and then disappear the next. I won't let you ghost me." Her lips pouted in a way that made him chuckle. He might go crazy if she kept doing this. "If it means finding you, then getting hurt is nothing. If you went MIA again, then I will go out and find you again."

Ghost still felt the pain all over his body, that argument took all the spare energy that he got. Meanwhile, Jade took the sewing kit from the side table, getting them ready to close Ghost's laceration. 

"Also, put some credit on my name, alright? You know I can take care of myself, Ghost." Jade muttered while taking the forceps.

"I almost stabbed you though." He replied.

"Ah." That only occurred to her now. When he was fighting off the Narcos, he thought she was an enemy and launched a knife straight to her neck. "You were in full survival mode since the whole warehouse was trying to kill you. I understand." 

"Shit… what would I say to your parents if I'd killed you?" 

"Hmmm. 'Sorry, Sir, Ma'am. I killed your daughter by accident.’, and then your body would never be seen ever again, perhaps."

That got a light laugh out of him, "We're a crazy lot aren't we?"

"Damn right we are."

There was barely any alcohol to hold the pain as Jade sutured his wounds close, and even though she had mastered the medical suturing techniques, the searing pain was going to be there to stay.

All the while her hands work, she started again, "What did they do to you?"

Ghost flinched at the question. She really hoped it wasn't something too bad. From her observations, he was badly injured on the left side, which meant he must've been punched and kicked quite a lot by the Narcos. The right side had way fewer injuries, but the little lacerations on his head looked like something sharp.

He took a deep breath, "After they caught me, I was brought to the basement and they tied my hands on my back to a pole with a rope. My feet as well. They interrogated me about who I am and my ties with Alejandro Vargas. Of course I shut my mouth the entire time."

Jade still looked at him, sending him a signal that it was not was she was asking about. Ghost sighed, before answering again, "It wasn't much, just punches and kicks, splashed water on me. The leader was a huge twat though. He smashed a bottle of alcohol on my head." Ah. There's the answer to her questions.

"And I'm assuming you used the shards to cut the ropes to escape?" She inquired, her hands still working.

"Yeah."

"...You okay?"

He always hated the question, but coming from her, it felt different. Ghost knew how she had experienced the same things before considering they work on similar grounds. And if he wanted to be honest on the answer, she won't get much. "I'm mostly annoyed at their leader the whole time. Just thinking of how to get out of there." Ghost finally answered, "I've experienced far worse. If anything, they lacked creativity."

Jade sighed, not the worst answer. Either he was hiding the mental trauma or he's just that dulled to tortures. From the outside he looked fine and he acted like this was just another business day, but she could never guess what's going on inside his mind.

That last sentence made her chuckle though. "What do you think they should've done to make you speak?"

Ghost looked like he really considered it, "...To make me speak? No idea. Probably your favourite method."

"My method?" She raised her eyebrows.

"Nail-pulling."

"I--" Oh good heavens, he'd set 'nail-pulling' as her favoured method of tortures. "Okay, if and only if you have the right tools, alright."

He let out a chuckle, prompting her to laugh as well as she finished the suture on his wounds.

—---

Cleaning up Ghost's injuries was relatively easy, as he didn't have any lethal wounds that required urgent care and deep medical knowledge. Still, watching him hiss and grunt as she sewed his lacerations was hard to do. She kept mumbling soft "Sorry, sorry." to him in a vain attempt to soothe his pain. At some point, it appeared that Ghost was completely out of fuel and dozed off sitting up while she was cleaning his skin from the blood and dirt. Closing his wounds was only the first step of first-aid care because what came after could be harder to treat since he had that infected wound on his shoulder. 

He hadn't eaten in days, was completely out of energy, had a significant blood loss, bruises all over his body, and that infected wound had finally shown its damned effect: fever. 

Jade sighed. As much as he needed the rest, he needed to eat. She'd brought some antibiotic meds, but in order to have them he had to eat first. Her legs brought her to the cabinet near the end of the bed, fortunately finding a good clean sheet of the blanket. Though, it wasn't thick enough for her liking, plus it was pretty small in size and would barely cover his large frame. Beggars can’t be choosers, so she draped the cloth onto his shoulders and his legs, making sure his figure was covered.

Opening her backpack, Jade fished out two sets of MREs, along with a ration heater. With his wounds finally dressed up and he's sleeping soundly, she walked out of the cabin to the riverside, filling her canteen with fresh river water. Pouring the water into the ration heater along with the MREs inside, Jade walked back to the doorway to avoid the rain, waiting patiently as she wiped the rainwater off of her skin.

While she was letting the heating pack do its job, she sat back on the wooden floor, slowly untying her braids that had gone messy from the actions and the rain. Fully getting the braids undone, her hair finally became loose completely, falling on her shoulders, back, and chest in the most chaotic way possible that Jade had to run her hands through her thick hair to detangle the mess. 

"Lottie?"

Ghost's weak voice startled her, making her turn around and saw the man himself standing right behind her, blanket around his shoulders. “Ghost?! What– you should’ve just slept! You can’t stand just yet–” 

“Relax,” He said softly, sitting down beside her with visible struggle. “This isn’t my first rodeo. I won’t die from moving 10 steps.” 

Seeing how he coughed wetly made her pout in disagreement. She still thought he needed to stay in bed. “How are you feeling though?”

"...like death.” 

“I thought so. Your temp was concerning. May I touch your forehead? I have to feel your temp." Ghost nodded, still, her soft touch on his forehead and neck caught him off guard, as she stared at him trying to concentrate on measuring the heat of his skin. “You’re burning up! Dammit.” Jade exclaimed upon feeling the rise of his fever, it baffled her how he still had the energy to stand up with all those wounds. 

Out of nowhere, Ghost felt pressure on his chest, before realizing that it was Jade pressing her ears to his thorax. 

He froze right there and there, turning into stone like Medusa just stared him down. Ghost sucked his teeth and looked up to hold in his blush. He knew a hundred per cent that she was checking his breathing for that terrible wet cough he let out, but his brain had turned into a mush, his heart beating so fast like he just ran a fucking marathon. She definitely could hear his racing heartbeat, but no matter how much he tried to tell his heart to stop fucking beating like there's a whole damned carnival inside his chest, it was proven futile.

“Take a deep breath.” Her voice was the only thing that snapped him out of his thoughts, doing what she told him to do. 

After hearing the air going in and out of his lungs a number of times, Jade finally leaned back again. “Yup. I’m no medic, but I can hear pneumonia coming when I hear one. You need to go back to bed.” She stood up and tried to pull him up, which was to no avail as he was still dumbfounded on the event that just happened. "The sun's setting down and the rain won't stop anytime soon. It'll get colder than this."

“I just got here–”’

“Back. To. Bed.” 

Has she always been this demanding? He never liked being told what to do when it's not from someone of higher rank, but he could surely get used to this one. Ghost couldn't help the small smile on the corner of his lips as he stood up, walking towards the hard bed slowly before sitting down again. She gathered the steaming rations on her hands and sat back on the chair, his heart swole in a way he never thought it could. 

"I brought chicken sausage and… pasta bolognese. You can choose whatever and I'll take the other one." Jade said, opening the lids to let the heat out while waiting for Ghost's answer, but when he didn't say anything, only gazing at the foods, a thought clicked in her mind. "Or or or, you can have both of them, if you want. I'm sure you're starving."

"...What about you?" Yep, she guessed right. He wanted both of them. Big man needed a big meal. 

"Don't worry about me. You haven't eaten in days. I already had mine before coming to the facility, so I'm good, I promise."

A gulp, "Can I have both?"

"Sure."

----------

He’s back under that suffocating, smothering coffin under the ground. Trapped alone in the dark, he felt his heart beat racing, pounding against his chest that he could hear it on his ears. 

He couldn’t breathe. 

He’s afraid. 

Ghost tried to bang his fist against the roof, but it wouldn’t budge. Even until his arms were bruised, until blood came out, he felt that the earth would swallow him whole any second, before Ghost felt the wooden base of the coffin disappear into dust, which made his body fall into a deep, bottomless void, getting farther and farther from the coffin.

Just as he thought that he’d forever fall without end, his back hit the ground with a great force, waking him up from his nightmare. Ghost opened his eyes with a jolt of his entire body, breathing fast and laboured as if he’d just gained back his ability to take air in. 

"Hey." 

The familiar voice called to him, prompting the man to focus his blurred vision, finding Jade. He’s finally awake enough to register that this is no longer inside the coffin where he was buried alive, but inside a wooden cabin deep in a rainforest. The rain still falling outside, the sun long gone, only the moon to accompany them. His surroundings were dark, save for the soft yellow lighting from a portable bonfire on the bedside table. Ghost was laying on his side facing her, nothing to support his head from the absence of pillows. 

He then saw that his hand was grabbing Jade’s wrist in a death grip, almost shaking. She looked like she was startled by the sudden grip of her wrist when she'd just been wiping the sweat off his face with a handkerchief, but she didn’t show any sign of panic or daze, just calmness inside her eyes. "Nightmare?" 

Ghost released his grip and answered with an alarming wet cough, his breathing starting to sound difficult, before weakly muttering, "Why aren't you asleep?" 

"You can have the bed, I'll sleep on the floor–" He tried to wake up before being pushed down back to the bed on his side. 

"Your fever got worse, you were sweating, and shivering as well. That infected wound on your shoulder added to the problem." Ghost might not be in his best condition, but he could hear her worry as clear as day.

She looked messy with the very long red locks of hers undone, contrasting with her usual tidy and orderly appearance. And to be frank, she’d had that worried tone since the second she found him in the warehouse, since she heard that he was missing, and probably since the day he texted her that he’d had to go on a mission. 

"That is total nonsense! I'm not the one who's beaten up right now!” The logic must have left him because of the fever. Did he really want to sleep on the hard wooden floor with those bruises all over his body?! 

The usual Ghost would retort some sarcasm towards her, but all he did right now was to stare at her. Jade would've thought that he's completely out of it from the illness, until he mumbled,

"...You should let your hair down more often."

"...wHaT?” her voice cracked at his words. Why was he talking about her hair all of a sudden?

A light cough, “I said you should let your hair down more.”

“Wh– Why?" She chuckled, half amused and half confused. "Look at them. My hair's a mess if I let it down. It's really hard to take care of, especially in the wind. Let it touch the rain, and air drying it is basically a recipe for disaster." The ginger said while rubbing her heavily tangled hair. She had intended to brush them when Ghost was asleep earlier, but she must admit that she didn’t have the energy to do it. Days of tracking and helping him had taken more of her than she’d expected.

"That's precisely why." Ghost started, still eyeing her face softly.

"...What do you mean?"

"Beautiful.” He confessed, "You're beautiful when your hair's a mess, so let it down."

A pause as he tried to rack up an answer in his jumbled brain. "It's not sudden. I've always liked it." 

The sentence baffled, perplexed, and shocked her. Why did he say that? Why was he doing this?? What kind of dream or nightmare did he have?? Jade’s jaw dropped to the floor, her face turned almost as red as her hair because of that particular sentence. Ghost had never been one for talking, let alone compliments. That was the normal, healthy Ghost, then. So if he's on the opposite condition…

"I– What's with the sudden flattery??"

No one ever complimented her hair. Since she was a baby, a child, a kid in the orphanage, she kept being skipped by potential parents because of her striking red hair. 

Jade recalled how she would see a couple shake their heads as they whispered among each other, quickly looking at the other orphans. Her brothers and sisters come in and go to their new parents, while she stayed. And for that reason, she grew to dislike – hate her hair, only until recently did she ever see a good in them.

And now, this man just admitted that he had always liked her hair since the day he met her, albeit… in a feverish, delirious state?

"T-thank you for saying that, Simon." Finally finding the courage to react, Jade continued, "but anyway, how are you feeling? Dizzy? Nauseous?"

"...cold." Ghost mumbled.

For sure that thin blanket would be doing anything in the cold rain. There was no more piece of clothing or any blankets left inside the house to use. She had started a little portable bonfire on the bedside table to give the room some form of luminescence as the sun was long gone, but it wouldn’t be enough to stop his shiverings. 

Holding his eyes open was already a heavy task for him, but this cold felt like a thousand knives on his skin. He wanted to sleep, God, he wanted to sleep. He’s exhausted, except getting trapped in that coffin and buried alive inside that dream was the last thing he wanted to experience right now. Getting air into his lungs was also a burden to his chest. Even with the painkillers and antibiotic Jade had given him, his wounds hurt all over. 

However, this is nothing. 

Ghost had experienced this before, far, far worse than this, and he was still alive. He’ll tank through the cold, he could endure any pain. 

It’s the same as ever. 

Nothing’s different.

Had he ever heard that kind of sentence before?

"Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?"

Jade softly muttered to him, looking at him not with a look of pity, but of compassion and willingness to help. 

"Do you mind a– um… A cuddle?” The woman sitting beside his bed said nervously, prompting him to look at her face. "Shared body temperature. I suppose it's effective in this situation."

He took that back.

It's different now.

“...No.” He replied shortly.

"Really?”

“Yeah.”

“O-okay! The bed’s small, can you face the other way?” She asked, to which he nodded before he used all the energy he had left in his body to lie on his other side. With heavy clumsiness, he finally faced the wooden wall. The light of the moon shone through the window, hitting his face softly. Not long, he felt a dip on the other side of the bed. Jade had climbed on the bed and fixed the thin blanket to cover his figure properly. Ghost could feel her presence on his back, looming behind him. He didn’t know what to do, obviously. He never really shared a bed with anyone in a long time, let alone a woman. It’s almost pathetic. 

“Can I… wrap my arm around you?” Jade asked hesitantly to the back of his head. “I–I don’t mean anything weird, just to warm you up! Like I said I love you and all – and I do mean that – but in case you’re not comfortable with me hugging you I will totally understand and—”

“I said I don’t mind it.” Ghost cut her off before she could blabber more.

“Okay… I’ll just. Put my left arm above you. Like this.” Lifting her arm, she then gently put her wrist on his shoulder, just barely beyond his side line. “This okay?”

“...Hm.” She’s pressed to him. She’s affirmatively pressed to his back. Her warmth instantly traveled to his entire figure, pleasantly so. 

“Good. That’s really great, yeah. Your shoulder is really high, wow." He couldn’t say anything to that. Is that a compliment? “While we’re at it, lift your head up a little bit.” 

Even though it confused him, he did what she told, and an arm sneaked its way past his cheek and placed it firmly there, and before he could ask her what was she trying to do, he got his answer. “I’m your pillow.” 

Ghost let out a chuckle at her retort, and to be honest, he didn’t have any strength left to refuse the offer. His neck hurt and his head felt dizzy without a pillow, so he dropped his head right then and there on Jade’s bicep, and what she didn’t expect was the fact that he deliberately scooted back even further, finally clinging to her figure – a relaxed huff leaving him.

And just like that, Jade’s assumption that Ghost didn’t like hugs went down the bloody drain. She had to bite her lips in order to hold in the scream inside her. God, he must’ve felt her racing heartbeat on his back. He sounded like a literal puppy with that last huff. If she has a third arm she would’ve loved to pet his hair.

------

The rain hadn’t stopped since they arrived at the cabin. The cold seeped through the woods, piercing through Jade’s skin as she made Ghost have the blanket. Other than that, the woman couldn’t deny the soreness on her arm as his head was pretty heavy. She didn’t mind it at all though, as long as he was comfortable, a sore arm was nothing compared to what he must be feeling.

It’s been about an hour since she climbed the bed to cuddle with him. Jade could really tell a lot about his condition from this distance. He’s really hot to the touch, his shoulders moved up and down in a quite fast pace. Still, it seemed that the shared body temperature worked as his shivers stopped. Was he already asleep?

Jade moved the hand that was on his shoulder to the front of his face – waving it up and down.

"I'm still up." His deep voice startled her.

Shit. He’s still awake. "S– Sorry. Just checking."

Meanwhile Jade was waiting for him to sleep, Ghost couldn’t even bring himself to sleep, for fuck’s sake. And not because of the nightmare, but because of her presence on his back was all he could think about. He felt relaxed, but not relaxed at the same time. It’s like his entire being felt safe in her arms and presence, yet his mind thought that he didn’t deserve this. Because she had searched for him, she had to leave her home, family, and friends again, and even though Jade had told him that she would always go and find him – and the things he said to her – he still felt like an arse. 

"Lottie."

Jade noticed the name, prompting her to blink. "Mm? You okay?"

“Thank you... for saving me. And about what I said,” A brief pause, “I've hurt you. I'm sorry."

She stayed silent, looking at the back of his head. Ghost was always a blunt person, and it wasn't the first hurtful thing that he'd said to her. Calling her a midget was one thing, but saying that he didn't need her?

She knew he was in immense pain and under heavy mental duress from the imprisonment, but if what he said was true…

"Did you mean it? What you said?" Jade finally replied back, questioning him about the words he'd said. She wanted to know if he really mean what he said. She needed to know.

It took a few seconds for Ghost to answer, seeming like he was preparing himself. "No. Quite the opposite."

Hearing those words from him felt like a earning medal, prompting a smile coming from her lips. "Thank you, Simon. For staying alive.” 

“Will you forgive me?”

“I forgive you, because..." Jade lightly sighed behind him, "I need you too.''

And he thought he had a cold heart. That one simple sentence coming out from the one person he allowed himself to love after such a long, long time, made his heart - no, his entire being melt right then and there, in her arms.

A mosquito decided to land on Jade’s hand, making her sway the bug away. “Oof, there’s some bugs here.” 

"...What's the bugs' favourite band?"

Oh great heavens. A pun at a time like this? "...what is it?"

"Bee Gees." 

"Oh that's goooood." She must admit that his timing was immaculate. "You ever watch Bee Movie though?"

"...Only bee I know in movies is Bumblebee in Transformers." 

"Yeah well. Suits you I guess. And good for you for being oblivious about the Bee Movie."

"What kind of movie is that?" He asked.

"A movie. About bees suing humans."

"The fuck?"

"Yea yea yea we'll watch it when we get home. Now sleep." Jade chuckled. "Good night, Beanpole."

"Goodnight, Midget."

"I'm right here if you need me."

*****

"I know."

It's finally here!! To be continued in Part 2!

[autumnslance]

FFXIV Write 2024: 5 Stamp

(References my 2019 day 13 Wax entry. 580ish words, post 6.0)

Cleaning out one’s room shouldn’t be such an ordeal, but Aeryn’s room in the Rising Stones was not as tidy as it appeared at a cursory glance. She had a tendency to toss things into drawers, shelf baskets, and cabinets, in a dedication to “out of sight, out of mind.” Opening any of them tended to either cause jams, or result in items avalanching to the floor. The clothes closets, wardrobes, and dressers were undoubtedly the worst offenders, filled to bursting with a variety of colorful garments that would make Redolent Rose boggle (and, hopefully, compliment her taste and selections).

The other Scions had their own belongings in their own quarters to see to, and said Aeryn simply had to deal with the consequences of her disorganization herself. It couldn’t be any harder than saving the world, after all.

She flopped onto her desk chair and sighed heavily. She had been at this for what seemed like bells already. The furnishings and many other items would remain, preserved neatly with tarps and mothballs and more arcane methods of preservation they had available, but some items were best to have on hand, and there was plenty that needed to be discarded, donated, or stored elsewhere.

Especially if they were to sell the fiction of the order’s disbanding and scattering. The rooms ought to be available if any of them passed through Mor Dhona and needed rest. But it also wouldn’t surprise any of them if Tataru commandeered their spaces for her burgeoning crafting empire.

Aeryn leaned forward and struggled to open the shallow center drawer of the desk. When it finally popped open, keepsakes vied for space with all her letter writing materials, including a spare quarter stack of stationary and matching envelopes, both sliding all over and under the rest. Much of it was easily replaced, and could join the general office supply stash behind the receptionist’s desk. Others she wanted to take with her, or put away more neatly for the time being.

An item rolled forward, loosened by her battle with the jammed drawer. She blinked and picked it up.

It was a stamp, used on the sealing wax for letters and scrolls. This one in particular was the Circle of Knowing’s stylized arcane eye—based on the full Archon symbol—inside a wild rose, the old password and unofficial symbol of the Scions. It also, incidentally, looked very similar to certain duelist spell effects, a consideration Y’shtola had made when gifting the stamp to Aeryn after Operation Archon and her victory against the Ultima Weapon and Lahabrea.

A small gift meant for convenience, as Aeryn often forgot to have anything on hand to seal her many letters, and Y’shtola had noticed. A small gesture, perhaps, but from the reserved Miqo’te, at the chosen time of gifting, it had spoken volumes.

Aeryn traced the raised lines of the symbol, her nail flicking away a lingering fragment of old wax. How long ago that all seemed, how far they had all come. How often this seal had graced her letters, both formal as the Warrior of Light, and personal as just Aeryn.

How often did she miss it, when abroad and realizing it was still in the desk drawer, and she had to scramble to find or borrow another seal.

She smiled, setting it with the items to keep with her, as it really did belong in her traveling writer’s kit.

Nevermind her pack’s organization status. That mess would come after she was finished with her room.

[queen-of-writing-bad-things]

Henry Danger Reader Insert | Captain Man x Reader: SEASON 5

Episode 14: My Dinner With Bigfoot (SMUT)

*hola, amigos, we have a little sprinkling of smut throughout the chapter. 

Oh, yeah, this is gonna be spread out since variety is the spice of life. don't do stuff in the woods though. you will get arrested in real life. HAVE FUN!

for the less corrupted amongst us, there are some slightly spicy scenes towards the middle that aren't too bad, followed by genuine smut so look out for the warnings since we'll be going in and out of mature content*

Friday night, date night. Or at least it was supposed to be.

Things had been busy lately. Since the loss of the fifth and sixth Man Cave, there had been a lot of baloney about sorting stuff out. That new Man Cave smell was nice but it was so formal and stiff, not the kind of thing you wanted for your home, so Ray and (y/n) had made good on their promise to each other.

Not the new wardrobe thing, although Ray did take his sweet girl out shopping one afternoon and returned carrying fourteen bags just to rival every other man in the mall who was following their wife or girlfriend around like a lovesick puppy. 

Every surface. No joke. That's what he'd whispered in her ear, so that's what they'd done, desecrating their new bed as well as the shower, the guest shower, a few walls, the hall, the couch, the computer's chair, the kitchen and the tubes. Animals. 

Things were back to normal, which meant a quiet night in was needed with the two of them and a bottle of red. No funny business, that's what Ray had said, not because he didn't love fucking her whenever and wherever but because after getting scolded by Schwoz for leaving evidence strewn across the Man Cave, he decided they needed to dial it back a bit.

And that had led to them enjoying a very fine evening in their room, nothing lewd or suggestive, just the two of them curled up on the floor with a blanket next to a TV with a looped video of a fireplace on the monitor. It was a bit corny as they sipped their wine and giggled when it went to their heads, laughing when Ray fed (y/n) a strawberry and booped her nose. 

It was cute and there wasn't stuff. Ray had told Schwoz there wouldn't be and that's how it was staying. That was the plan, anyway.

"You know what this reminds me of?" the man mumbled as he watched his lover swirl the blood-red liquid in her glass before putting it down to focus on his words. He was languishing against a half-moon of pillows, arms stretched along the row and his legs spread in front of him so she could shuffle closer, curl into his side and rest her head against his chest.

"What?" 

"The first time I took you out to dinner..." he said softly and tucked a loose strand of her behind her ear when it fell from her lowering her gaze shyly. It was a bit weird, he knew that this was nothing like the first time he took her out to dinner, whether it be they were "friends" or lovers.

"What? You do know that we weren't sitting on the floor or alone in your bedroom on either occasion," (y/n) giggled, sitting up so she could look at him properly and possibly sneak a sip from the wine glass he raised to his lips, even though she had her own. 

God, her younger self would kill to know what her future held and would've died and gone to heaven at the idea of her best friend pulling her into his lap so their faces were at the same level, his hand on her bare thigh, fingers grazing under her dress innocently as he pecked her lips.

"I know, but it feels the same. But this time, you're not my friend or my girlfriend...you're my wife," Ray grinned and tilted his head forward to catch her lips once more in a slow, sloppy, uncoordinated dance that was enough to set a fire alight in (y/n)'s core. Her hips shifted and tilted to press against his clothed cock, which was barely hard, merely twitching with slight interest as his jeans gave her a glimpse of pleasure. 

They shouldn't--couldn't, she knew that. This was meant to be relaxing, a chance for them to catch up with clothes on but she couldn't help it. Call her crazy after the Christening of The Cave as it had come to be known but she wanted him. She always had and it was that which convinced her. 

Until the taste of wine became sharp and sour on her tongue and she remembered that her past self never had to contend with tipsy Ray.

"Doofus..." she giggled, pulling away from his lips, although she remained firmly on his lap, clit pulsating against the rough coolness of his zipper, "I think someone has had a little too much wine...I'm not your wife yet."

"You should be...you're so pretty and smart. My sweet girl..." he mumbled and dragged his thumb over her bottom lip as he pouted at the thought of yet more waiting. He pouted even more when she took his wine glass from his hand, the one that had been dangerously close to tipping its contents all over them as he lost himself in her honey taste, and placed it next to hers away from the blanket.

No spillages, thank you. Instead, the chilled Pinot was left to go lukewarm as her hands returned to his shoulders to keep him pushed against their pillow next and his eyebrows twitched at the sudden change in the atmosphere. 

He could feel it; the way she looked at him, the way her thighs trembled when his grip slid to her waist and how her weight seemed to shift to press against him at the right angle and make him stiffen. 

"I know what we can do in the meantime," (y/n) smirked and slotted her mouth against his, expecting him to play right into her hands and remap his territory with his typical vigour. Ray loved pinning her down, ravishing her, taking what he wanted, especially when he was given such a tempting invite, so it was a surprise when he pulled away.

"No, sweet girl, what did we say?" the man growled and held her away from him by wrapping a gentle hand around her throat. He didn't squeeze, it just rested there as a reminder that despite his reluctance to spread her out and have his fill, he was very much in charge. However, it didn't stop her from whining and rocking her cunt against him once as a protest.

"But--"

"No buts. I promised Schwoz that we just having a quiet dinner in a room, nothing that will cause him any grief," she huffed at the name of the genius, who right now was the enemy since it was his complaint that meant his free hand was clutching her pelvic bone to keep her still. 

So what if he found her bralette on top of the microwave? It was nothing he hadn't seen before but apparently, finding the matching panties hanging from a monitor in the main room was the final straw. Whoops.

"So? We'll just have to be extra careful next time we fuck in front of the TV," the heroine giggled, drawing another growl from his lips as he casually pressed butterfly kisses to her jaw. There wasn't gonna be the next time, not if he could help it, no matter how irresistible the offer was, but he figured a peck or two couldn't hurt.

"Needy little girl..."

"And besides. What we do in our room isn't up to Schwoz. If he finds something in here, then it's his fault, not mine when I want you to fuck me in our bed, in our bedroom, with the door shut," she whispered hotly into his ear, biting the lobe as she made her point and began grinding her clothed pussy into his lap, where he was getting undeniably hard from her begging.

Her dress was flimsy, thin and the sort of garment he didn't like to see her walk outside in just because she looked as if she could freeze to death at any moment, in any weather. But she didn't intend to walk away, not when she had him to keep her warm and the delightful friction between her legs, which had perfect access in the dress he hated to love. 

But even he couldn't resist bunching her dress around her thighs and pushing it up to her belly button, revealing the lacy panties she'd put on underneath. Fuck him, they were soaked, sliding over his painfully hard cock that throbbed at the sight of her rutting against him--a show only for him. 

He wasn't going back on his word, he was just looking with hooded eyes. Nothing wrong with that. 

"But I'm not gonna fuck you, darlin'. Not here, not tonight. Not after someone else got to see your panties and I had to collect them," the hero told her firmly, swallowing the lump in his throat when she wailed and sagged against him. The look in her eyes suggested mutiny as if he'd betrayed her in the worst way as her hips kept moving--almost madly now that he'd said that.

He'd be a liar if he said the thought of pushing into her wet little hole didn't make him want to cream his pants, he could tell from the mess she was making that she was desperate despite them being very...active over the past few days. But that was the problem, she wasn't there when a mortified Schwoz handed over a pile of freshly laundered underwear whilst wearing rubber gloves with him as the equally mortified recipient. 

"Wha---Ray, that's not fair! I need it--want your cock so bad! Can't you see how wet I am?" she whined, pulling at his shirt like a petulant child who couldn't get her way. Her fingers snaked to cup her mound, where she gathered an embarrassing amount of slick that had seeped through the lace on two fingers. Even through his jeans, she could make out the head of his cock straining against the denim and her mouth dropped open when it poked and teased her entrance.

"Which is why you're going to get yourself off like this. Rubbing your pretty clit and begging me for more, so come on. Make yourself cum," Ray challenged, giving her a hard stare, which she shrank under. He wasn't gonna--huh? 

She could do as he asked, with him talking so filthily in her ear, it was easy but what she desired was so close. It didn't make sense that he'd sit there and torture himself like that when it would be so easy to unzip his pants and free his cock, let her bounce on it a little until they were both falling apart. And yet here he was, gazing down at her so cockily as his hands started to pull her hips back and forth.

"But I want to ride and cum on your cock, like I did on the couch--wanna feel you so deep inside--" she muttered squeakily as her hand went inside her panties and began circling her clit in a figure of eight. He seemed pleased with how she carried out his barked orders and fondled her tit through her dress as she did until her stupid mouth got her into trouble for being bratty.

"What did I say, little one? You'll take whatever I do or don't give you and endure. I want you to cum like this," he replied harshly and the hand that had been pinching at her nipples left them alone to smack her ass harshly, causing her cunt to brush against his cock deliciously. A hiss left his lips and as much as he wanted to take care of her, was suddenly, selfishly starting to wish that he could fill her up.

This was yet another part of his game and she loved playing it no matter how frustrated she became when the stimulation on her throbbing bud wasn't enough. Poor thing, she had it too easy, thinking she would get fucked every time her pussy started aching, but he had to teach her that bad girls don't get what they want. 

"Please..." she pleaded, nuzzling her head under his jaw and kissing his pulse point in a bid to get as close to him as possible. Maybe if she reminded him that she was his good girl, his sweet girl, his cute, innocent future wife, he'd give in.

"No..." he growled, refusing to touch her any more than he already was; hands on her ass, tits and waist, lips nibbling at her neck, no more. It added to her frustration when he let groaned lowly in the back of his throat, no doubt kicking his orgasm away as she teetered on the edge of hers.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, I can't--please!" (y/n) begged. No matter how hard she tried, how quickly she rubbed, how deeply she ground, her release was always out of reach, running away as soon as she chased it and only he had what she needed to grasp it. 

Again, he denied her, helping her movements against him as if that was any help. The only real thing he did was seize the top of her panties between his two fingers and thumb before ripping the elastic. The lace was shredded, useless and able to peel away easily from her figure after that, meaning her cunt was bare and free to ruin his pants as she wished, even if the increased friction was laughable. 

"Fuck, you're soaked, sweetheart. This all for me? This the hole you want fucked?" he asked mockingly as his fingers finally stroked through her velvety slick, causing her mouth to fall open and her pussy to move against them greedily. A fingertip breached her hole and she screamed, hands balling his shirt as one digit slid into her and then another straight away.

Her head nodded weakly as she sobbed at finally having something to clench around but it was nowhere near enough. Not when she was used to stretching around his girth as he pounded the life out of her.

"More--please--need your--cock--"

"How many times, filthy girl? I'm not fucking you right now, you can cum on my hand," Ray tried to remain firm, scissoring his fingers to try and make them feel bigger. Honestly, he didn't care about Schwoz, it was his Man Cave, he'd fuck his fiancée wherever he liked but it provided a good excuse to tease her and drag their date out a little more. 

He loved her like this and had planned to woo her, bed her, make love to her during the evening, forgetting his promise to Schwoz. Although, he didn't expect to be quite like this.

"But--but you could fuck me, fuck my pussy...anywhere," his fingers stilled inside her and his eyes met hers with a steely gaze, causing her to carry on with needy confidence, "you said you would and you still haven't. Captain, why haven't you fucked my ass yet?"

The effect was instantaneous and better than she could have ever imagined. Ray's hand was ripped from her cunt and she whined at that, only to whimper when he roared and pushed her to the blanket roughly. Within seconds, he was swiftly crawling up her body whilst simultaneously fumbling to free his weeping member, which was straining after that suggestion.

That had been pushed to the back of their minds, on the table but ignored for now since they'd never had enough time to do it safely and properly but that didn't mean he wasn't desperate to try it. He still wanted to see her every hole claimed, sated and owned by him, so her teasing rose the beast within him that wanted her on all fours for him to see.

"You're so bad--bad fucking girl. My girl," he grumbled in her ear as she braced herself on her hands and knees, skirt flicked over her ass, and looked back to see his perfect, glorious cock pulled from his zipper. He was leaking, an angry-red colour and bobbing deliciously as he hissed from the cool air; it was clear that he couldn't be bothered to properly take off their clothing, not after she'd said that.

"I'm gonna fuck this pussy so hard and then, if you're lucky, I might start practising stretching this hole out, ready for my--" Ray rambled, letting himself get lost in the fantasy as his head pressed against her entrance and gently began to break her open. The burn was heavenly and (y/n) groaned throatily at the relief it provided, thinking they were the only people in the world at that moment.

That is until she looked up and saw through blurry eyes how the door handle was turning. 

With a squeal, she instinctively crawled forward and away from Ray, snatching a blanket from the pile next to their nibbled-at dinner and draped it across her lap quicker than her lover could blink or keep hold of her.

"What the fuc--" he snarled, outraged and confused that she'd moved away at such a crucial moment when he was half-cocked and dying to slip inside her walls. Seeing nothing but red, he thought that she was playing some devilish game and so, he went to grab her, intent on spanking her ass until it was red and sore and in need of her superpower to make it better. But then he saw it too.

The doorknob had made a half-rotation and he only had a fraction of a second to yank a cushion from next to her head and press it into his crotch when the door was pushed open by the one person Ray did not want to see at that moment. 

They'd fallen against the pillows, panting, sweaty and trying to appear as if they'd merely been sipping wine and not on the verge of fucking, when Jasper entered the room, staring at his phone and unaware as to what he'd walked in on. 

Of course, it was him.

"J-Jasper, what are you doing in our bedroom?" (y/n) asked breathlessly, trying to fan her warm cheeks in a subtle way that wasn't subtle at all. Anyone with half a brain could realise what had been going on just by how warm and close the air was, how warm and close they were, if they only took a minute to observe. 

"Yeah, what are you doing here?" Ray asked darkly, glaring at the boy as he felt his cock soften and the mood vanish. He was still desperate, raring to go and would give anything to slide into his sweet girl had he not rudely interrupted. 

"Oh, uh, yeah...you said that you were gonna join me and Henry tonight, remember?" the boy said, looking up from his phone to see nothing out of the ordinary.

It was damn lucky that Jasper only had a quarter of a brain, otherwise, they'd have a lot of explaining to do with very red faces. But he was oblivious to their sticky foreheads and stiff shoulders, plus the way Ray refused to move the cushion from his pants as he thought about the boy's words.

"Oh...yeah. That," he mumbled, sending an apologetic glace to his puzzled lover, who hadn't heard of this arrangement before. What a fool Ray was; he'd agreed to the boys' night with the teens since they rarely had any guy time. So, tonight they were gonna be reckless, dumb and crazy, keeping their youth alive. And it seemed that he'd double-booked the date too. Oh, hell.

"What? Look, Jasper, I'm sorry but Ray's gonna have to miss whatever you've planned 'cause we've still got half a bottle to finish as well as something else, so--" she laughed nervously, feeling highly uncomfortable that her dearest Curly was in the room when she was aching on the inside. 

She didn't care about whatever they'd planned, she thought Ray would choose her over a stupid night playing video games and eating candy. How wrong she was.

"So, just gimme a minute. I'll be right there," Ray told Jasper, gulping to keep his voice steady as (y/n) looked at him with shocked, wide eyes and an open mouth. The boy grinned and walked off, calling to Henry down the hall to get the popsicles from the freezer, leaving the woman to gawk in silence as they breathed again.

"Wh--what? You can't leave me here!" she gasped as she relaxed into the blanket and expected Ray to do the same, but no. When he said he'd be right there, he meant it and was already tucking himself away and doing up his zipper as she laid there, still wet and needy. 

He looked sorry, apologetic and remorseful but even so, that didn't stop him from standing up to grab a moist napkin from their dinner table to dab away any embarrassing stains and freshen himself up. 

"Precious girl, this is my fault. We arranged this night ages ago and I can't let Henry down...or the other one," Ray told her gently as he finished scrubbing himself and threw the napkin onto the tray again. She scoffed as he looked in the mirror and ran a hand through his tousled locks, smiling softly as she scowled and stamped her foot against the carpet. It was childish but she was distraught.

"But you can't leave me here without fucking me first..." the heroine muttered and grabbed the leftover wine to take a large swig--much-needed fortification to quench the blaze inside of her. The burn in her throat was unpleasant and made her eyes water but she hid the discomfort well, welcoming it to mask her frustration. How could he walk away? Was he not burning up as she was?

"I promise I'll fuck you later, yeah? Later, I swear," he insisted, deeming his appearance suitable enough to show a couple of teenagers and stepping away from the mirror. His smile met her glare and he leaned down to kiss her goodbye, probably the last one of the night since they were set to pull an all-nighter. However, (y/n) couldn't help but linger and try to swipe his tongue into his mouth--a play to entice him back that ultimately failed.

"Later. I'm holding you to that," she said to him firmly as he pulled away before his semi could return at full force. He couldn't deny that he still wanted her and was equally frustrated but he had to hide it well for the kids. They didn't need to see that.

"Later," he repeated and with one final peck on her forehead, he swept out of the room, leaving her a trembling mess in their rudimentary picnic spot. She'd finish herself off to the roaring of the fake fire but it wasn't enough. It could never be and she couldn't help but wonder.

Was Jasper an idiot or was he just being purposefully annoying?

*SAFETY AT LAST. Not my best but we've more yet to come, so stay tuned my fellow sinners--Onwards with the episode!*

~Many long hours later~

Annoying. Very annoying. They all were so damn annoying. One, two and three.

(y/n) had slept alone that night, had gone to bed in a frightful mood and all because of their stupid, ridiculous, testosterone-fuelled party. And it was a party—a big one. 

At one point, she'd woken up at three-thirty to go pee when she heard their rowdy voices in the main room, shouting something about Henry finishing an entire can of soda in eight seconds. Full sugar, no doubt, that's what they ran off for the past god knows how long. The binge hadn't stopped when the sun rose, not when their sugar highs nosedived and not when Charlotte came to work at nine to see a very grumpy woman sitting in the chaos as she'd tried to eat breakfast. 

For the life of her, Charlotte couldn't work out why the heroine was so grumpy and tetchy, it wasn't like her at all but in the end, she'd put her snide remarks and long sighs down to her being tired and moody from Ray's antics. 

Hell, she'd only been there five minutes and she was tired from their conga line, so to escape from the tornado of pizza and smelly armpits, the girls had legged it to the safety of a cafe for the morning, hoping that by the time they'd finished gossiping and sipping cappuccinos, they'd be sleeping it off on the floor or couch. That was so naive of them.

It's how they'd ended up where they were now; one of the boys, assisting in something bovine and moronic frolic that required more players than they had. What the hell even was a haircut chain?

"How's it lookin', Henry?" Jasper asked his friend as the boy stood behind him. This was their big idea; they each stand behind one another with lasers--very dangerous, highly unpredictable lasers--so that they could give each other haircuts. Yeah, Charlotte and (y/n) didn't understand either.

"Lookin' gooood!" Henry replied with a smirk as he lightly trimmed Jasper's hair so it was a gradual fade and not a severe cut. The lasers were at their weakest setting, which meant they were being irresponsibly complacent since they merely saw it as a free haircut, nothing more. "How's it lookin', Ray?"

"Lookin' ooooookay!" the man said happily as he zapped at the stray hairs on his sidekick with an experienced hand. Behind him, his sweet girl and Charlotte were doing the same to him, although the woman needed to stand on a ladder held steady by the girl to match his tall stature. She was still thrumming on the inside, she could feel it when she walked and could see it in his gaze when they'd come home but still, the wait went on. 

"How's it lookin', sweet girl? Charlotte?"

"We do not know what we're doing, doofus," she replied dryly, squinting to ensure that she was cutting in a straight line. She'd never cut her hair let alone someone else's and as it happened, she was quite fond of Ray's floppy floof. She didn't want to see it ruined so she was trying her best to not mess it up, but it was hard when she and Charlotte kept swapping to take turns on the ladder.

"What?!" Ray suddenly exclaimed and raised a hand to shield his brown locks as they ceased lasering. His hair was practically sacred, one of Captain Man's best features, to cut it without some skill was sacrilege. "Why would you mess with the Man Mane if you don't know what you're doing?"

"You told us it didn't matter!" Charlotte argued, wondering why he was being so crabby too. She didn't know if the happy couple were in the middle of a domestic or what but fifteen hours of sugar and soda had not helped the man, who was getting to be strangely antsy.

"When did I say that?" Ray asked in an innocent tone, although he remembered the precise moment quite well.

"Ten minutes ago, you doofus? Remember? When we walked out of the elevator and found you guys dancing around chanting, haircut chain, haircut chain, haircut chain!" the heroine refrained from punching his shoulder, knowing that if she did, the contact might make her spontaneously combust. The coffee was still fresh on her tongue as well as the fluttering from the butterflies after seeing him again...

~

"Haircut chain! Haircut chain! Haircut chain! Haircut chain! Haircut chain! Haircut chain!" Ray, Henry and Jasper chanted as they paraded around the Man Cave, waiting for the return of the girls.

They could hear the elevator coming down and were eagerly anticipating getting them to join, so it was quite the surprise for the two friends to step into the main room and see them so excited. As painful as it was to see them still so energetic, it warmed (y/n)'s heart to see her doofus again after four hours and three iced hazelnut lattes later; maybe it was her, but his gaze seemed ravenous for a split second before his cheerful grin resumed. 

"Hey! We're gonna cut each other's hair!" Henry exclaimed, not caring if they were still holding their final takeout cups of Jet Brew. He was on his fifteenth popsicle, caring wasn't an option anymore.

"With lasers!" Jasper shrieked and (y/n) shared a look with Charlotte when his breath practically tore their faces off, Maybe leaving them unsupervised was a bad idea, but damn, they'd needed that coffee to pull through whatever this was.

"You in?!" Henry offered with a determined glint in his eyes that they didn't share. 

"I do not know how to give a haircut with a laser."

"Yeah, me neither," they told him, wanting to make sure that they were aware that if they went near their beloved styles, there could be irreversible consequences. But as always, Ray wasn't a responsible adult and when his lover turned to look at him with fleeting eyes, he ignored any warning since it put a dampener on his spirits.

"Doesn't matter!" Well, he was the one who said it. That counted as permission in their eyes, the terms and conditions that hadn't been read but regardless, they'd accepted them. 

"Then, okay..."

"I still say this is a bad idea," (y/n) muttered and took a long sip from her latte, letting its familiar milkiness take her back to her younger days. She knew that the haircuts were gonna be a disaster just from the way the chanting started up again, although this time, lasers were fired at the ceiling.

"Haircut chain! Haircut chain! Haircut chain!" the boys shouted, firing laser after laser at the rock face above their heads. Ray only stopped to kiss his sweet girl after hours of not seeing her properly but when she went to cup his face and linger, he pulled away to start dancing with his fellow gibbons. 

You'd think he'd be a little more clingy considering that he hadn't crawled into bed with her that night and had been sorely missed by his sweet girl but that would come later, once the sugar tap had been turned off. The (y/n) withdrawal symptoms would come back with full force and so would his bone-crushing hugs and need to kiss her frequently - amongst other things. 

~

"That didn't happen," Henry shook his head and peeled his eyes away from where he was lasering to look back at the girls. He was tired, sluggish and fuzzy so they didn't believe him, even if it was three against two.

"Yes, it did!"

"Who are you going to believe, Charlotte? Your own flawed memory or three guys who've been up all night playing video games and eating popsicles?" Ray asked and pursed his lips as he recalled the long night he'd just experienced. 

Truth be told, he was getting a little too old for that kind of thing and looking at the pile of popsicle sticks on the table, he knew he'd have acid reflux at some point--it was just one of those things. Getting a good night's sleep after finishing his still unfinished business with his sweet girl sounded much better, but he was way too proud to admit that. 

"Yeah, that's not a tough choice, you morons," (y/n) said with a scoff, although her point was marred slightly when she leaned forward on the ladder to press a kiss to the nape of Ray's neck. She enjoyed watching him shiver and hoped that he was reminded about what his fun night had cost, something that highly amused Charlotte as she stopped the ladder from tipping.

"Yeah, exactly. Popsicle boys!" the kid squeaked immaturely and in a move that somewhat disturbed the insulted girls, wiggled his fingers against Ray's as they made a stupid sound. The hero might've been shaking from the inrush of cold air after his lover had her lips on him but he didn't miss a beat, unlike Henry, who missed an awful lot since his focus was elsewhere.

"You might wanna look where you're lasering," Charlotte advised. She wasn't the one on a platform like (y/n) but even from her position, she had an excellent view of Henry's lack of movement, meaning she could see how he'd been going over the same spot on Jasper's head for the past three minutes. It kinda looked like a mole rat now, smooth and fully shaved, not what the boy had asked for. 

"You better look where (y/n)'s lasering!--ah!" he retorted cockily, thinking that she was simply buying into the playful banter until his gaze wandered back to his work to see that what was once a masterpiece was now ruined. 

From his ear downwards, Jasper's hair was gone; it kinda looked like a mole rat now, smooth and fully shaved, not what the boy had asked for, meaning a horrified, squeaky gasp fell from Henry's lips. 

"What was that?" Jasper asked nervously as he felt the gentle heat on his head stop and a draft brush against his skin. It didn't feel like any other haircut he'd had given how cold everything felt and it was like he could sense their stares burning into the back of his head as if something had gone wrong. 

"Uh...nothing," Henry stammered, wondering how he was gonna fix the mistake if there was no hair left to work with when Schwoz came through the secret door, minding his own business and carrying a picnic basket. 

"No, no, no, you tiny screamed," Jasper tried to bring his focus back, knowing that his friend only screeched like that when something was wrong.

"Uh, dude, it was nothing--Hey, Schwoz! Random question...do you have anything that regrows hair?"

"What?!" The boy's hand flew to the back of his head as he heard the not-so-subtle question and even he understood that Henry was trying to say that he'd screwed up the haircut chain. The genius was so conveniently in the room now and so, Henry thought that he'd have a solution since that was his expertise and helpfully, he did. 

"Don't worry, I got something," Schwoz reassured them, seeing the utter panic on Jasper's face and the guilt on Henry's, so he pulled a tube from his pocket and tossed it to the shaved kid, "this hair-growing cream works great. I've been using it on the sides and back of my head for years."

"Any instructions for this stuff?" Jasper questioned as he looked at the tube dubiously. It didn't have any legible writing on it and Schwoz was already off out somewhere, so it didn't give him the best feeling, even if Schwoz's hair (or what was left of it) was thick and luscious. 

"Oh, yeah. Lots of 'em! But I don't have time to tell you right now because I'm late for my dinner with Bigfoot," Schwoz replied and lifted the basket over his head so he could disappear up the tube and not have to worry about Jasper and his lack of hair problem. But he couldn't leave, not after dropping a bomb like that--something about Bigfoot?

"Whaaaaat?"

"Hang on..."

"Wait, stop, stop, stop!" the remaining five rambled, focusing on the genius who rolled his eyes at their confused expressions and raised the tube again. He was getting very late and didn't have time for any questions, even if they now had a million of them. 

"What?"

"Bigfoot?!" Ray repeated as he held out a hand for (y/n) to steady herself coming off the ladder. Back on solid ground, she held onto his doofus' hand as they huddled together to grill Schwoz on how he could be friends with a mythical, rampaging thing in the woods and not tell them. They must've heard him wrong, there was no way that it was the Bigfoot. 

"Like, Bigfoot Bigfoot?"

"Yah." Or not. Schwoz wasn't laughing or holding in giggles, he was being deadly serious about meeting up with the hulking creature, something that they just couldn't believe since it was so outlandish. 

"The Bigfoot?" Jasper questioned, leaving his smooth nape alone for a minute since this had piqued his interest. Bigfoot...and people thought he was strange. 

"Like, the made-up creature who lives in the woods?" (y/n) asked, wanting to clarify that they were definitely talking about the thing that supposedly scared campers and hikers. She often prided herself on being quite open-minded, she was an engineer after all, but like the others, she was thinking one thing; Schwoz had either been sniffing glue or watching too much of the conspiracy channel again. 

"He's not made up, he dated my sister," the small replied, which both shocked them and made a lot of sense at the same time. They could get over that Bigfoot existed, but Winnie getting a date? Jeez, the poor guy probably had to give her bags of carrots instead of bunches of flowers.

"Your sister dated Bigfoot?!"

"Yeah, it didn't work out between them, he wanted kids, she didn't but I always thought he was a chill hang," Schwoz shrugged, remembering all of the drama that always ensued when a couple broke up and the drama that ensued afterwards when he and Biggie remained friends. He was glad that his favourite couple would never go through that, it's why he liked living with them despite the ickiness and incidents--no chance of it ending, not ever. 

"Can we go with you?" Henry requested eagerly. It's not that he was nosy, rather, he wanted to see if Schwoz was lying or not. Anyone would jump at a chance of seeing Bigfoot in the flesh and the others had the same mindset.

"Oh, yeah!"

"Yes, yes, please?!"

"Come on!" they clapped their hands excitedly and looked at him expectantly, which put Schwoz in an awkward position. It's not like he had anything to hide but he thought it would be awkward having all of his friends clashing, after all, there were gonna be a lot of personalities clashing. 

"I don't like to mix my work friends with my wood friends--" he tried to let them down gently, ignoring their pleading eyes and hopeful grins because he felt guilty enough. It was impossible though, he truly was outnumbered.

"Oh, come on, Schwoz! Just let us come!"

"Yeah, we can all be friends together!" Charlotte and (y/n) begged together, using their best, fluttering eyelashes and doe-like eyes to win him over--and it worked. They ground Schwoz down all too easily because he wouldn't want to make them cry, now would he? That would just be cruel. 

"Fine, let's go to dinner with Bigfoot--" the handyman conceded with a sigh to the roaring cheers of his friends, who applauded, cheered and fist-pumped their success in an almost hedonistic way that undermined Schwoz's kindness. He wanted them on their best behaviour, not screaming or shouting or being weird, Bigfoot was a very sophisticated guy. "--but don't embarrass me!"

They calmed down at that and although still buzzing with excitement, the group moved to enter the elevator, Ray happily tugging (y/n) along with a spring in his step. He refused to let go of her hand because it was the only thing keeping him cool at that moment, what with the adrenaline still streaming through his blood and the prospect of meeting a literal legend wasn't helping, neither was the sudden, unexpected alarm.

"Emergency alert!" Charlotte exclaimed as everyone looked back at the computer and saw the familiar red flash of the beacon. Right, they were technically supposed to be working right now and an impromptu trip to the woods, something that would take a couple of hours just to get there, wasn't gonna stop them from continuously coming in. 

Captain Man couldn't take time off and neither could his sidekicks and Ray was aware of that, highly so; it was just a shame that he didn't care. Shielding his eyes from the others in a not-so-noticeable way, he pulled his laser controller from his pocket and fired a single shot at the beacon, burning a hole straight through the plastic, thus ending the call, at least so that they didn't have to hear or worry about it.

"Raymond!" (y/n) whined and gave him a stern look for what he'd just done. She didn't feel right leaving whichever poor soul to suffer simply because they were curious and leaving something a mess made her stressed all the more. It made her itch in a way, knowing that it would be lying and waiting to be fixed until they came back so she was ready to scold him and Ray was braced for that. Until--

"Dinner with Bigfoot!" Henry began chanting, his booming volume swallowing whatever noise came from (y/n)'s mouth. He'd known the couple long enough to sense when they were about to argue, whether it be petty or explosive, and he did his best to stop it, which worked rather well well when Jasper and Charlotte joined as Ray fleetingly kissed his sweet girl quiet and chanted too. 

"Dinner with Bigfoot!" 

"Dinner with Bigfoot!" 

"Dinner with Bigfoot!" Strange. They thought he would've kissed her for longer. What was with those too?

~Two hours later, in the woods~

A van journey later and the group were still chanting as they approached a clearing in the woods, one where Schwoz had said was his and Bigfoot's supposed meeting place. 

Despite the long, bumpy journey, one that was still palpably tense thanks to Ray, (y/n) and whatever was going on between them, the anticipation for meeting the mythical creature was still high and the teens had been poking Schwoz since the second stop light for more information. What did he eat? Normal food. Where was he from? Swellview, duh. What was his favourite colour? What kind of question was that?

It went on and on but thankfully, it meant not much attention was paid to the front of the van, where the couple had been strangely silent, uneasy and not at all handsy--the most worrying thing. Ray didn't put his hand on (y/n)'s thigh like she was hoping, the thing he always did when he drove since the pillowy flesh was just asking for his fingertips to feel it, but that night, he was worried that the call was asking for something else and he didn't want to listen to it. Not yet, anyway. 

"Dinner with Bigfoot!" 

"Dinner with Bigfoot!" 

"Dinner with Bigfoot!" The teens chanted relentlessly as they followed Schwoz through the thick foliage, walking for a few minutes to disappear into the night that had fallen during their drive over. Bigfoot was a secretive guy and preferred to not be seen by others, which was understandable, so they carried on in single-file, Schwoz first, the kids in the middle and Ray and (y/n) walking hand-in-hand to bring up the rear.

They were trailing slightly, keeping up but going at their own pace as Ray's stride was much longer than (y/n)'s and he wanted her comfort more than anything, so it was her setting the speed. It was fine, Schwoz had everything under control at the front and they were nearly there, or so he said, so the only problem Ray was experiencing was the one in front of him. The perfect view of his sweet girl's ass as she walked--all he could do was stay back and try not to stare, which was easier said than done.

"Sweet girl?" He grumbled, surprising himself with how animalistic he sounded, akin to something they might find in those very woods, so it was no wonder that (y/n) whipped around immediately, slowing down to a mere ambling pace as she faced her dark-eyed doofus to see what was wrong. 

"Yeah?" she asked, her saccharine voice full of innocence that made Ray's abs tense. He didn't know what he was gonna say at first, he just wanted to call her name but seeing her looking at him like a lamb in front of a wolf made his next actions undeniable. He let go of her hand to grasp her wrist instead and it was damn lucky that the gasp she released when he roughly pressed her against the nearest tree wasn't heard by the others.

Henry, Charlotte and Jasper carried on merrily, not noticing that there were two missing members in their party as Ray pinned his precious girl against the scraping bark and kept her hands clasped together and above her head. 

In the moonlight, she looked so ravishing as his eyes raked down her quivering body and he could see the questioning look in her eye, a part of her wondering why he was picking his moment now. However, he could also see how she wasn't all that innocent either, pupils dilating the minute one hand went from her waist to brush between her thighs, touching nothing but the soft skin there. 

There she was, his girl, his darling lover, his future wife, waiting for his next move, panting lightly in the darkness as they were left behind and he knew that he'd been a fool to leave her for a few popsicles and to play Mario Kart, he'd been a fool for thinking he could last a whole day without her. 

"Doofus, what--"

"The second we are alone again, little girl..." he whispered in her ear, one hand cradling her jaw as the other stayed with hers against the tree. It was his promise to her and it could be left unspoken, she didn't need an explanation. They were pushing their luck as it was, staying behind as the others marched on and as tempting as it was to throw caution to the wind and feel those thighs around his waist because lord knows that he did not give a fuck, she did. 

Jasper's earlier faux pas was but a forewarning in her mind and it would not happen again, not two nights in a row, so as quick as her back had met with the harsh bark, he pulled away, taking one hand with him. 

The dazzling rush of it all had her stumbling to catch up with his long legs as he marched towards the clearing, following the voices before they were missed or he changed his mind and she had no choice but to jog behind her doofus. Her hot, moody, incredibly well-endowed doofus. 

Avoiding a tree root and a mysterious puddle of green mush, the couple made it to the back of the group again, not that anyone had noticed their slight delay. The only noticeable thing was how their breathing had quickened from the rush, although in (y/n)'s case it was something else. Paired with her red cheeks, it was kinda obvious, but the shadows hid it well and so did hiding behind Ray's shoulder. 

"Hey! That hair-growing cream worked great."

"Yeah, it looks gooooood, dude," Henry complimented Jasper when Charlotte noticed that unlike two hours previously, Jasper's hair was completely back to normal. You'd never guess that he'd had the majority of it lasered off and he was quite happy with the results of Schwoz's cream, save for one little thing. 

"Oh, nice...this worries me a little," he smiled but it was nervous and they knew why when he raised his hands to show them that not only did the cream work on scalps, it also worked on fingers and palms. Baby hairs had begun to sprout from his flesh and he was getting quite furry, which was disturbing. Really disturbing. 

"You have to wear a glove when you apply it. That's part of the instructions!" Schwoz exclaimed as the others grimaced, (y/n) burying her nose into the jacket she'd stolen from Ray.

Being the silly-billy she was, she'd only realised how cold it was out until they were well past the city's border and in the sticks, so her ever-adoring fiancé had swooped in and bundled her up in one of his huge jackets that had been slung on the backseat of the Man Van. It was huge, enough to keep her warm even in a dress and it was only made better by his cologne following her around. 

"You didn't tell me any instructions," Jasper argued as he coped with his hairy hands. He'd just assumed that the cream worked on heads, not skin in general, which was kinda bad since he'd been touching his head, face, ears and other places since using it. 

"Okay, step one--don't itch your ears!" Schwoz said when he saw the boy rubbing and searching his earholes. That would only mean more cream transfer, even if it was a little late to be giving out advice. 

"Soooo...Schwoz, where's Bigfoot?" Henry asked as Jasper stomped off to try and deal with his new hair problem. This was the meeting place but no one could see any imaginary animals or beings, meaning the kid was starting to doubt if this guy was real or not and whether Schwoz had pulled the best prank of all time. 

"Yeah, man. We've been walking around for four whole minutes. I'm starting to think you don't really know Bigfoot," Ray added, his hands shoved deep into his pockets and his sweet girl huddled to his side to try and keep the cold away. He wasn't the world's most patient man but four minutes traipsing around some bushes at night wasn't his idea of fun and he was waiting on a promise for what was. 

"Relax, let me just call him--" Schwoz told him gently and the man went back to trying to keep (y/n) warm. He knew that dress was both angelic and evil, but at least he could put his arm around her, which was good for when Schwoz ignored his phoned and abruptly summoned his friend. "BIGFOOOOOOOOT!!!"

"He's on his way," he told them, not thinking a thing of his sudden, echoing voice in the dead of night nor how he just spooked the heebie-jeebies out of them. Biggie wasn't much of a phone guy anyway. 

"If you were just gonna scream his name, then why'd you pull out your phone?" (y/n) asked as she snuggled into the cosy fuzziness of Ray's jacket. She'd seen the genius take his phone from his pocket when she was ogling her lover, which is why his bellowing had been so unexpected. 

"So I could get a picture of you guys when Bigfoot shows up," Schwoz replied in a tender voice but he had that mischievous glint in his eye like he had something up his sleeve. His phone was pointing at them and open on the camera app, so he was ready to capture their shocked, terrified expressions whenever he needed a good laugh, not that they knew that. 

"You mean if he shows up," Henry scoffed sceptically, shoulder-to-shoulder with his friends as they waited, "we've been here for five whole minutes now. I'm starting to think you don't actually know hi--"

Henry never got to finish his mini-rant. As he rambled on at the smirking genius, a big, hairy lump dropped from the overhanging willows to land in front of them, bellowing a ferocious roar. The sight of this snarling furball caused the teens and couple to shriek in terror, a moment that Schwoz swiftly captured on his phone as (y/n) practically leapt on Ray, who had his jacket clutched by Henry, flanked by Jasper cowering behind Charlotte.

But the howl eventually petered out and the beast put its arms down in a friendly slouch, meaning the group eventually stopped screaming too. Bigfoot just stood there and he wasn't quite what they were expecting as hands let go of jackets and men put down their sweet girls; he was tall and hairy with thick, sharp nails, that was a given, but apart from that, he was normal.

Well, nearly normal--he was placid with an easy-going stance, nothing like the monster some people often described him as. 

"You guys, Bigfoot is real!" Henry exclaimed as they all stood there, in awe of the living legend in front of them, who wasn't a mutant or animal like on the TV, he was just a normal guy with a lot of hair. 

"Real handsome!" Bigfoot quipped, putting them all at ease with his small joke. If he was comfortable with himself then they had no reason to fear him, especially when he laughed in that resonating baritone of his. "It's nice to meet you..."

"So...uh, this is Hen--" Schwoz started to introduce everyone, not wanting things to be awkward since he didn't have many friends and he didn't want to lose any, but Bigfoot beat him to the chase. 

"Oh, I know this guy. Henry Hart AKA Kid Danger? Feels gooooood!" The hairy man chuckled, much to Henry's excitement. 

"Bigfoot knows my thing!" The ecstatic kid hissed to the others. He thought it was wild that Bigfoot of all people knew who he was and had intimate knowledge of his personality, even his secret identity. He didn't seem to be the kinda guy to leak stuff like that, after all, Schwoz was smart enough to not be all pally with grasses, so no one worried. 

"'Course I do. Scheoz talks about you guys all the time," he revealed, making the small man blush since no one knew about his pride from working the Man Cave. 

"What?" Jasper tilted his head, stunned that Schwoz could be so sneaky and that Bigfoot knew about their crazy gang. 

"Yeah. You must be Charlotte," Bigfoot nodded, turning to the girl whose cheeks heated up when he started being all charming, "Schwoz tells me you're even smarter than he is."

"Whaaaaaat?... It's true, though," she grinned, blushing from the sentiment of Schwoz hyping her up to his other friends but it was the truth. The Man Cave would be lost without her skill with the computer and general sensibility, so it was nice to know that it was noted and appreciated.

"Oh--Jasper!"

"Yeah!" The boy nodded with a smile as Bigfoot moved on, looking at him next and punching out at him lightly in playful banter. Honestly, this guy was so cool and Jasper liked that he had also been included when he did the least out of the three teens.

"J-Dowg!"

"B-Foot!" They bantered and bumped fists as Schwoz kept snapping pictures, wanting to remember every moment of his friends becoming friends. Maybe they'd be able to hang out together as a gang and he'd be surrounded by everyone he loved--maybe a tad premature but a nice thought as they all got along so well.

"How's that girl with all the allergies?" Bigfoot asked, referring to Patina, the one Jasper took to Cactus Con and accidentally plunged into an anaphylactic fit. 

Ouch, a touchy subject in more ways than one so no one ever mentioned what had happened with her, not that Jasper ever let it bother him. 

"Oh yeah, she ghosted me! I keep texting her but she never responds!" He shrugged, tugging at (y/n)'s heartstrings as he smiled with the others but she remembered those weeks all too well. Jasper sat on the couch, texting and texting, waiting for an answer that never came until he had no choice but to move on with a sad acknowledgement for a romance that had gone so far only to be left to die. She never liked that girl. 

Speaking of moving on...

"Oh, and well, I know who this beauty is! (y/n), the sweetest girl in the world as Schwoz put it! Lovely to meet you, I know all about your engineering and how you keep the place running--oh, and of course, Miss Danger! How could I forget?" (y/n) was practically a tomato as Bigfoot moved on and grinned at her next. 

He extended his hand and she thought he was going for a handshake when he warmly pulled her in for a hug, a very soft hug as his woolly body helped her forget about the cold as he gushed about her many talents and the way the Man Cave would crash and burn without her expertise. Pulling away, her face was beaming as they crowded around Schwoz with the other three to look at the pictures and that only left Ray on the outside. 

The man loudly cleared his throat as they cooed over the funny and heartwarming photos, looking up to see him still standing there. Right, the main man as it were, the boss, the head honcho, they couldn't forget him, after all, he'd never let them. 

"And, uh, last but certainly not least..." Ray grinned, awkwardly turning to Bigfoot who removed his arm from his darling girl's shoulders and looked at him--with a blank stare like what you'd give if you were giving a stranger. Oh, lord.

"Hey..." Biggie greeted slowly, which didn't fill the hero with confidence but still, he smiled back, encouraged by (y/n), who was edged closer to them as much as she could without passing the furball, "there he is..."

"There I am!"

"This guy!" They interacted with a definite tension that made the teens frown because it was so weird that Bigfoot had been so welcoming and friendly with them, knowing specific details about their lives and personalities, only for him to have no idea who Ray was. 

"You must be, uh... Henry's dad?" The hairy man suggested, trying to find a possible identity for the mystery man that his friend had never described, but it only served to insult Ray. That was nowhere near accurate and kinda insulting since he thought he looked too young to be any teenager's dad. Come on, he wasn't even married yet. 

"Henry's dad? Are you--are you kidding me?"

"Are you...uh, Jasper's dad?" he moved on, a hint of desperation as (y/n) facepalmed in the background, itching to get to her doofus' side before his emotions started leaking but she knew how it would look if she was constantly clinging to his side. So, no matter how badly this was going, she stood still and hoped that Ray didn't do anything stupid after being called the weird kid's father. 

"Uh, I'm-I'm Ray AKA Captain Man AKA (y/n)'s fiancée!" the hero said, hoping that a few of his basic titles would spark some recognition in the legend's mind. 

Bigfoot looked genuinely surprised to hear about another superhero living with Schwoz since he didn't have a TV and never ventured into the city; he had to learn stuff by ear and when he looked back at the mention of the sweet girl, he saw her raise her left hand and point to the ring that sparkled in the starlight. Well, that confirmed it, weird how he never knew. 

"Oh, Schwoz never mentioned you! Are you new to the Schwoz Cave?" He asked politely, seeing nothing wrong with his question, so he didn't understand why the man's face erupted into anger as the woman and kids released shocked giggles behind him. Oh, that little fibre, what had he been saying?

"The Schwoz Cave?!" Ray snapped and his furious gaze landed on Schwoz, who smirked bashfully and adverted everyone's gaze. He was ashamed but also unapologetic because he loved the idea of being a superhero and messing with Ray's head, even if it was a tangled web of lies that he was now stuck in. 

"Listen, listen--" Bigfoot put a furry hand on Ray's chest to keep him from tackling Schwoz and instead, diverted their attention before things got out of hand, "I found this great campsite just past the creek. Let's all go down there and have dinner to get to know each other better.

"Yeah."

"All right, let's go," the teens nodded enthusiastically at the sound of food and a pretty area to sit, so they quickly followed after their host, who knew the way like the back of his paw--hand. Schwoz was right behind them, giggling mischievously to himself as he passed Ray, who stood like a statue with a stony expression engraved on his face. He was visibly livid from being unmentioned and the shoulder pats that the kids gave him only soured the mood. 

"That's a tough one, daddy," Henry commented jokingly as he walked past, not knowing that it was possibly the worst thing he could've said to the man, who'd been waiting all day and all night for that kind of talk. He was damn near breaking point and (y/n) knew that as she was the last to move. 

"Come on, sweetheart. Let's go eat," she whispered, stepping in front of him and smiling in the face of his grim expression. She gently reached for his hand, which unclenched when her fingers slid over his to let her in and without hesitation, Ray allowed her to grasp it. Sighing when she stroked his cheek, he allowed her to tug him towards the campsite, his heart unwilling to watch her walk away despite how sluggish his plodding feet were. 

They might have liked Bigfoot but he wasn't so keen and neither was he impressed with that good-for-nothing, low-down, double-crossing sneak, Schwoz. He'd be having words with him but for now, he was willing to indulge in one thing - his sweet girl. If the hairball didn't know who he was now, he surely would by the end of the night if it was the last thing he did. 

Her fiancé, her lover, her doofus. Always. 

Up ahead, they could hear a slight commotion since they were going quite slowly, anything so Ray could sulk in peace a little longer and cheer himself up with a little butt-staring. No doubt the amazing Bigfoot was doing something amazing with his amazing dinner because he was amazing. 

"Let's eat!"

Yeah, right, he could've done that but to avoid a scene, Ray stayed silent and kicked at the dirt as they came to another, smaller clearing, complete with rocks and stumps for rudimentary stools, a pre-lit campfire and some coolers left by the campers he scared away, one of whom Henry could swear looked like Mitch Bilsky but as he looked at the cosy spot, he couldn't find it in himself to care. 

Soon, they were huddled around the fire, Charlotte sat with Bigfoot on a fallen tree trunk, Henry with Schwoz, Jasper on his own, and then, Ray on a rock with (y/n) perched happily on his knee. Their new friend had raised his eyebrows at that, thinking they were very open about being so touchy and...kissy but the others assured him that it was normal and separating them would only lead to trouble now that the man was calmly nuzzling into her neck and hair. 

So, soon, the snacks were handed out and the stories started. Bigfoot lead them since he was the fascinating one and even Ray was able to tame his jealousy and listen as he nibbled a hotdog, offering it to his lover occasionally, another thing that they assured the legend was normal for them. 

"Sometimes, I just want to sneak into town to get that good salsa but people would see me and they'd either want a selfie or they'd try and kill me," Bigfoot sighed as everyone listened intently to how hard it was being so famous yet hated. Sure, he was legendary but most would kill to be the ones to capture Bigfoot or put the real-life Bigfoot in a zoo, and that was just horrible considering that he was such a sweet man. 

"And I hear that!" Ray piped up as (y/n) bit into their hotdog and he tightened the arm around her waist. He wasn't hated but he knew the price of popularity and it was nice to see him finally making friends, even if it was slightly self-centred, "I can't go anywhere without getting mobbed."

"Appreciate your sympathy, Ron," the behemoth gave him a polite smile and he was gracious enough to not mention the way they were snuggling like they were the only ones in the forest. All Bigfoot concentrated on was his story and the way Charlotte was braiding his fur, which was a shame because his blatant forgetting of Ray's name touched a sore spot for the egocentric man.

"Ray. It's...it's Ray," he corrected with a smile that was akin to a snarl If it wasn't for his sweet girl playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, he would've pounced and taken the hairy buffoon on himself. Was he that forgettable or had Scwhoz properly swindled him for once?

"Oh, I'm so sorry--Captain Ray!" Bigfoot was trying his best; this guy was quite techy about his image and he didn't fancy fighting with Schwoz's other friends, not when they could so easily blow his clandestine existence. However, even his best wasn't enough and Ray gritted his teeth at yet another mistake.

"No, it's Captain Man. My name is Ray," the hero laughed awkwardly and mockingly, earning himself a few hard stares as he took everything too personally, "and I just think it's hilarious that this guy has no idea who I am!" 

Everything got out of hand quite quickly and (y/n) whined indignantly when her doofus stood up abruptly, tipping her off his lap so she had to scramble to stay on her feet as he started throwing a rather embarrassing tantrum. Honestly, it was like caring for a six-year-old.

"Doofus! Ray--Raymond! Oh god, I am so sorry about him..." she had to say, giving Biggie an apologetic look and nervous smile as her lover began kicking at the dirt, complaining about anything and everything. She was used to his emotional outbursts but that didn't make them any less humiliating when their new friend looked so perplexed and almost sympathetic to her situation. God, the shame--he was thirty-seven for god's sake.

"And there's no dijon mustard for this hotdog!'

"Hey! Just chill, okay? Just relax!--" Schwoz and the teens were staring at the earth as (y/n) flattened her palm against Ray's chest and began pushing him away after he threw the half-eaten Weiner and bun to the ground. Sure, it had been a little bland and boring but it was nice for a minimalistic picnic and they'd share anything honestly, mustard or no mustard.

"Said it was a great campsite, doesn't seem so great to me! His words, not mine!" Ray growled above her incessant pleas to calm down and she started using her body to push him back quicker when he pointed straight at Bigfoot--a highly rude gesture. Such a child...

"Calm down! Just calm the hell down!"

"Ray? Ray?!" Charlotte shouted as she came over to see if she could get through to him too since the awkwardness was killing her. She joined (y/n) in begging for him to button it and folded her arms as he spat her calming words back in her face; seriously, if (y/n) was struggling to calm him down, her, his beloved fiancée, what hope did she have?

"I'm the problem, sweet girl? I'm embarrassing?! I'm embarrassing?!"

"Yes, yes, you are! You're embarrassing when you act like a child, Raymond, getting angry when things don't go your way and it's deeply humiliating!" the woman scolded, staring him down--or as down as she could get since she was so much shorter than him--as a teacher would to a rebellious student. He seemed to sober up at that, recoiling when she gave him the reality check that he was upsetting her, the kids, and everyone and that wasn't fair.

"I'm embarrassing?" he asked again and she cleared her throat when his eyes softened from the hardened glare they'd held seconds before. He never wanted to humiliate her, god knows that he only ever wanted to be proud of having him by her side and it was only because of stupid Bigfoot that he'd lost his cool. Or...maybe it was him, maybe he needed to think things through.

"Yes, Ray, so you know what? You need to calm down, so we're going to go into the forest and we're gonna take a lap," (y/n) told him firmly and took up his hand so she could march him out of the clearing before there was a punch up. Did other girls have to do this with their fiancés?

"I don't wanna take a lap!" he replied petulantly and tried to pull his hand away from his sweet girl in defiance. In his normal state of mind, he'd never do that but children often cut their noses off to spite their faces when being told off--he was no different when he was like this.

"You need to take a lap, Ray," Henry piped up this time, having stood up to come and join Charlotte in assisting the woman, even if their opinions meant very little. Still, he figured that if his boss heard it from enough people, he'd eventually stomp off with (y/n) in tow and she'd ensure that he was fully calm before coming back to their rustic yet sophisticated hangout.

"I don't need a lap! It's not my lap time!" Ray snapped at the kid, thinking he was getting them all to back off when really, he was making it worse. Did he not realise how childish he sounded? All the man wanted to do was enjoy a quiet evening with his girl and feel her squirm against him when he breathed hot air down her neck, but no. That walking carpet was ruining everything.

"If you want to act like a child, then I will treat you like one, Raymond. Come with me!" (y/n) tried to shove him again but his bulk wouldn't budge, not until someone else joined the cacophony.

"Uh, I wouldn't take a lap. It's pretty dangerous out there!" The same walking carpet said, again trying to be helpful but again failing miserably. Whilst he knew the woods like the back of his hairy hand, they didn't and he'd hated to see them step in something dangerous but to Ray, that sounded like a challenge. If Bigfoot could do it, he could do it better.

"Oh, okay! We're taking a lap!" the hero scoffed, suddenly changing his tune, much to the group's frustration. Without another word, Ray seized (y/n)'s hand and dragged her off in the direction that they'd come, grumbling as he went. She was tripping over her feet at his insane pace and all she could manage was a quick wave to the others before they'd rounded the corner and disappeared into the shrubbery.

*WEE-WOO, WEE-WOO. SMUT IMPENDING AGAIN. I PROMISE IT FINISHES AFTER THIS THOUGH. LET'S GOOOOOOO!*

"Ray! Ray! Slow down! I said a lap, not a sprint!" she gasped as he retraced their faint steps that had been trodden into the dirt, looking for one spot in particular since it would be far enough from the camp but not too dangerous for them to be caught unawares. He tried to ease up when she stumbled on a jagged rock emerging from the soil but he didn't stop, merely squeezed her hand even more to keep her following.

"Raymond! Will you just--what is with you tonight?" the heroine asked again, slightly breathless from how much ground they'd covered in such a short space of time. Trees had passed and bushes and a sign saying hunters would be prosecuted--and a sign after that said prosecutors would be hunted if they didn't keep their noses out. It felt like they'd trekked the entirety of the woods when he finally stopped, abruptly and without warning, and with no inclination that he was going to answer her question.

Like lightning, Ray pushed her against the tree for the second time that night and their surroundings once again became familiar to (y/n) as she felt the same scraping against the soft skin of her back. He'd taken her up the path to the old clearing, the one where the moon lit the path to keep the monsters away--and hopefully any snoopers too. 

She'd been hunted again, only this time, Ray intended to go through with the kill.

"I'll tell you what's with me, sweet thing," he growled and instantly had his face buried into her neck so he could nip a line down her jugular, tearing gasps and weak moans from the back of her throat, "I've done nothing but think about your pussy since last night and I need it, darlin'. Need you so bad."

Truth be told, a smile tugged at her lips when his typical, domineering snarl turned into a whining beg. He was pawing at whatever he could get his hands on; her soft neck, tits through her dress, hands brushing back the jacket to hold her waist before slipping down to knead at her ass. Most would say that he was pathetic, desperately trying to tempt her into joining him in the open, in a public place, where anyone could stumble across something.

"Whose fault is that then?" (y/n) teased, jaw dropping open when his teeth bit down on her collarbone, causing her to yank hard on his hair when her hands snaked to run her fingers through it. His lips were so distracting but through the lips of them and his wandering touch lighting fire on her skin, she could feel him against her hip, hard and throbbing, begging to be released after losing out so critically before. 

Now, it was her chance to wind him up tight like a spring and watch him squirm because that's what she'd had to do the night he left her for popsicles and buffoonery. He could've had her, could've pushed right in, god knows she'd let him, she was soaking through her panties just at the memory and yet, he'd left himself to suffer. 

Pushing the skirt of her dress up, Ray immediately grasped at her thighs and tried to widen them, hoping to get a glimpse of the delight that was waiting for him, even if he knew he didn't deserve it, not when he'd played such a cruel game. The desperation was clawing at his insides, cock begging him to fuck her soon before he exploded and so, as much as his instincts told him to have his sweet girl spread out like a feast for him and chastise her for teasing her Captain, he swallowed his pride.

"Please--please--please," he whispered over and over against her neck as he rutted his hips into her. With any luck, she'd feel what she was doing to him, how crazy the thought of her had made him over the last god knows how many hours, how he couldn't wait to fuck her tight cunt any longer. 

The drive over had been hell; anytime he looked over, she was there looking like an angel and he could swear that she'd been widening her legs just to tease him when he rested his hand on her thigh. Little minx... But what could he do? He did his best to find her sweet spots, licking and sucking at the spot below her ear and trailing his fingers closer to her core until she was trembling between him and the tree, that's when she spoke.

"What do you want, doofus?" she murmured, tilting her head back so he'd have more access. Moving down from her ear, he headed for the top of her tits, nipping as he went before he grabbed at them roughly. God, he wished they were back home or that he'd done this sooner, then he could take one into his mouth, he knew how perfect those nipples were for biting and sucking, but out here, he wasn't willing to expose more than he had to.

What did he want? A few things. He wanted her naked, on their bed in the warmth so he could get on his knees and pray for forgiveness before worshipping her like he should've done before. He wanted to hear her every sound above the rustle of the leaves. He wanted to peel her panties down her legs and fuck her hard and strong so he didn't rip someone's head off. He wanted her, he wanted her so much.

"You, sweet girl. I want you so bad--since last night," he panted, grinning against her skin when he found her clit through the soaked material under her dress and rubbed his thumb against it in tight circles. She lurched forward with a cry, bucking her hips towards him as best she could with only the tree for leverage and it reminded her that he wasn't the only one who'd been simmering since last night.

The drive over had been hell; anytime she looked over, he was there, looking like a god as one hand guided the wheel and the other stayed with her like always. She could swear that he'd crept his hand closer to her core with every passing streetlight, just to drive her insane.

"Then fuck me, you idiot," she smirked and palmed at him through his jeans, feeling how huge he was even through the denim and no sooner than the words left her mouth, they pulled apart to weakly shove any clothing out of the way. 

Her thumbs hooked the elastic of her underwear and she pulled them down her legs as their eyes stayed locked, his darkening when she slipped them past her ankles and awkwardly over her shoes. It was never like this in the movies, they made it seem so smooth but she got there eventually and pressed them into his hand, earning herself a groan when he felt the damp cotton. 

Tucking them into his back pocket, Ray lifted his sweater slightly, revealing a peek of his Adonis belt as she knelt to pop the button on his jeans and slowly bring down the zipper. He watched with hooded eyes as she gingerly reached into his briefs and pulled him free, licking her lips at the prize that lay in front of her. 

She leaned forward, ignoring how the bitter air was making her core clench when it met her bare pussy and how stones were digging into her knees as she braced against the ground but it was worth it. Dipping her tongue out, she kitten-licked at his tip before allowing the flared head to break her lips open, taking him in one, two, three times with slow bobs of her head that had him throwing his back to howl at the sky. 

It was indulgent, he knew that; her pace was tortuous and he longed to hold her face still and fuck her pretty throat but relented when she looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes that were spoiled only by his cock inflating her cheeks.

"You always look so hot with my cock in your mouth, sweet girl," he groaned and placed a hand on the back of her head to guide her movements. (y/n) moaned at the salty taste of him, loving how pliant he was in her hands, so much power and strength being controlled by her movements--it was intoxicating but not what she sorely wanted.

With one final swipe of her tongue around his length, she pulled back, leaving them connected with nothing more than a string of saliva as she gazed up at him with cherry-red, sickened lips and doe-like eyes before asking, "will you fuck me now, sir?"

"Fuck, baby--" Ray groaned at her naive tone, admiring how small her hand looked when giving his cock a few tugs. Leaving her hair, his hand slipped under her arm and he pulled her to her feet, growling when she giggled at his eagerness. Her amusement didn't last long; pushing her against the tree once more, Ray gripped the backs of her thighs and snarled "jump" against her throat, picking her up effortlessly when she lamely tried to follow his orders.

He secured her legs around her waist and used the tree as leverage, thankful that in their horniness, he'd picked one that had grown at a slight angle so things were easier. His raw strength made her tremble as she clung to his shoulders, where his muscles felt softer through the fuzzy fabric of her sweater but she knew the power that was hidden beneath and could feel it from how he lifted her so easily. 

Rutting his hips forward, they moaned in tandem as his cock slotted against her slit and steadily rocked through her slick, brushing against her clit with every move. Her mouth was pressed against his ear so he could hear every noise she made and his grip turned to steel when he caught on her entrance, prodding so he could feel her clench but not going any further.

"Can I fuck you, sweet girl? Can I fuck you here where anyone can see what's mine?" Ray asked into her hair, sliding his head through her lips to rile his lover up even more. His abs tensed at the thought of someone stumbling across them, a lone hiker or maybe even Bigfoot himself as he came to investigate their disappearance. 

He'd never let them see anything, her pleasure-screwed face and soaked pussy were for his eyes only but a small, sadistic part of him hoped that their new "friend" caught a glimpse of him with his pants shoved down and his sweet girl wrapped in his embrace as he pumped into her. 

That would stick in his head--maybe he'd remember who he was then. The man who was entirely devoted to the sweetest girl on Earth. The man who knew that sweetness better that anyone else.

"Shit--yes, please. Fuck me, I don't care if someone sees--" (y/n) pleaded, going half-insane from the contrast of the jagged bark on her back and the soft swipes of his cock. Ray didn't need telling twice and as her cries painted a smirk on his face, he pushed forward, staring between her legs as he began to disappear inch by inch. The woman threw her head back, not caring when it thunked against the tree, all that mattered was her fucking hot fiancé and his cock that stretched her walls for miles and miles. 

He had the perfect view; her dress was bunched up around her waist and with the moon and stars to guide him, he could see how drenched she was in the dim light and how her pussy sucked him, welcoming him home. She was certain that some of her wetness had been there since the previous night, had not ceased gathering even when he left her alone with a glass of wine to nurse and nothing more and it only made it easier for him to bury himself to the hilt.

For a moment, he gave her a chance to adjust to his sheer size or maybe it was his way of masking how he was the one who needed a minute. Her walls were so damn tight around him and velvety soft, making searing white heat crawl up his spine until he got a grip on himself and started to rock into her.

"So dirty but you like it, don't you? You like having your little pussy filled in the middle of the woods," Ray said cockily, punching out each word in synch with a thrust of his hips, drawing moan after whimper from her mouth--and he sure as hell felt the way she tightened at the reminder of their surroundings. "Oh, you do, don't you? Like knowing that anyone could see you like this for me--see how you scream my name when I--"

"Fuck, Ray!" she cried when he snapped his hips into her at a different angle and hit a spot that made her see stars. Smirking when he saw the way it made jelly of her muscles, he began pummeling that spot, hearing nothing but the blood rushing through his ears and the slapslapslap of his balls against her thighs. Her squeaks and begging were music to his ears and he got lost in his sweet girl, nothing else existed apart from her, him and her tight heat as it ruined his cock.

"N-not gonna last long, darlin, not after last night--" he stuttered, feeling how tight his balls were and how they were begging to pump her full of cum before he exploded. He'd denied himself earlier and it had left him half-crazed, his body drying out for its soulmate so they could be one at last and he was finally succumbing to the call, succumbing to the sweet pull of her pussy and how it was waiting for him.

(y/n) whined something incoherent, too lost in the pleasure rippling through her body from the epicentre in her core. Steadily, she lowered one hand from his shoulders and dropped it to her clit to begin rubbing it in rough circles, her fingers slipping across soaked flesh. It was the push she needed to hurtle her towards the edge and she felt the familiar burn beginning to set in, one that began to blaze when Ray's lips brushed against hers and he captured her gaze.

"That's it, pretty girl. Rub this pussy for me, get it all nice and ready for my cum. Can you do that for me?" he asked in a teasing, condescending tone that had her nodding obediently. His thrusts increased as she doubled down on her clit, giving it light slaps like she knew he would if they were in a more comfortable setting. 

Ray's eyes followed her movements and a gasp got stuck in his throat when he saw how the diamonds in the ring he gave her sparkled with every circle. Fuck, if that didn't make him go faster then nothing would and it wasn't long before he felt the fire return to lick up his spine. Her cunt, her moans, her tight grip on his hair, the sight of his fiancée fucking himself whilst he fucked her was enough to drag him to the edge and her with him when his thrusts faltered.

"Come with me, doofus. Fill me up before we go back," (y/n) whispered before biting his earlobe to smother her loudest moan of the night when he came with a groan, triggering her own end. Ropes of pearly cum flooded her heat as he pressed her against the tree and her orgasm stretched thin when the scraping pain mixed with the bliss. Ray whined and buried his face into her neck, staying as close to her as possible as he filled her up with his most intimate claim.

The heroine sighed at the serenity and rested her forehead against his shoulder as their breathing slowed down. He stayed inside of her for a while, unwilling to remove himself from her warmth when the air around them was so chill and he was more interested in kissing up her neck and running his thumbs across her ass as held her aloft still. 

But, eventually, the chilliness of the air caught up with them and upon feeling his sweet girl shudder and snuggle into him more, Ray realised that her jacket had slipped down her arms when he was pounding into her. Not to mention the fact that she was still wearing that sorry excuse for a dress with her legs facing the elements. 

So, he planted one final kiss on her pulse point and peeled her from the tree, hearing her whimper slightly as her scratched skin smoothed over and his cock jostled against her walls. He pulled out slowly, groaning when he felt his release begin to leak now that she wasn't plugged up. 

"I've got you, sweetheart," the hero told her gently, setting her back down on shaky legs and ensuring that she didn't tumble to the forest floor. "You okay?"

"More than okay, doof. You feelin' better?" (y/n) asked with a breathy laugh. Her tummy fluttered when she felt his cum begin to ooze out of her and whilst she hated to lose it, knowing that it was there was near perfection.

"Much better but there is one thing that I need to do."

"Oh, yeah? What's that?" she asked perplexed, wondering what could be so important as he tucked himself away and tugged up his zipper with a shiver. It all became clear when he smirked her way and felt into his back pocket and brought out her panties, the ones he'd tucked away for safekeeping before having his way with her. 

"Would you mind, sweet girl?" He held them open and with a giggle, (y/n) stepped into them as clumsily as she had taken them off, struggling to get her sneakers through the holes until he shimmied them up her legs. Carefully, Ray pulled them over her ass so none of his precious spend could be lost and he playfully squeezed her cheek before fixing her dress to check that she didn't walk anywhere with her butt showing.

"Does this mean I have to walk around with your cum in my underwear?" she questioned, leaning up to caress his lips with hers in a slow dance.

"Of course," Ray grinned, thoroughly in love with the idea that they had a dirty secret between them that no one would ever know but them. Perhaps he was being childish again but the thought of having one up of Bigfoot, having her as his lover since, in his eyes, any man would kill to be with her, made him gloat and preen. Speaking of the hairball...

"We should probably get back..." (y/n) mentioned and pulled his jacket across her body tighter to try and conserve some warmth. The campfire was sounding pretty nice round about now and even better if her doofus would be there to calmly snuggle with her, besides, the others were probably beginning to wonder how long one lap could take.

"You go on ahead, precious girl. I just wanna take a look at something before I go back, I won't be minute," the hero told her gently and gestured to some bushes in the direction they'd come from. 

"Okay, doofus. Don't stay out here too long. I'd hate for something to happen to you," she smiled and pecked his cheek, giving one final warning for him not to be a hero when he wasn't in uniform. Ray chuckled at that and gave her ass a small smack as she walked away, laughing when she sent him a bright-eyed glare over her shoulder. 

God, he hated watching her walk away but at least he could admire her with a longing gaze. Now, about that shiny thing he'd spotted...where was it?

*AND BREAK SCENE. THE SPICY MEATBALL IS OVER MY GUYS. THANK YOU FOR COMING, I HOPE YOU ENJOYED YOURSELVES, THIS IS SADLY ALL WE HAVE SPACE FOR SO, MIS INOCENTES, WELCOME BACK*

Even in the darkness, on her own and slightly intimidated by the possible Oogie-boogies lurking in the bushes, (y/n) steadily made it back to the camp. A slight left turn, straight on, past the bush that looked like Shirley Bassey and then a right to the small circle of rocks and stumps that seated her friends. 

Just act normal, tell a small white lie and don't blush--whatever you do, don't blush!

"Hey, guys!" she smiled at them as she skipped back to her and Ray's rock and plonked down on it. In her mind, nothing was out of the ordinary and she'd already thought of her story, the one she'd slightly altered to a more suitable narrative. All they needed to do was buy it.

"Hey!"

"What took you so long?"

"Where's Ray?" The teens asked as Schwoz and Bigfoot mumbled and smiled their greetings. The woman laughed nervously at the influx of questions, some of which were easier to answer than others. At least they looked happy and ignorant, that at least meant their "lap" had been far enough away for any noises to dissipate.

"Oh, you know what Ray's like, such a drama queen. He needed a bit more time to cool off so I left him to wander for a bit while I get the feeling back in my fingers," she explained quickly and thank god, it checked out. Whether it be from her steady tone or her pleasant face, the teens nodded knowingly since that did sound like their boss and (y/n) had looked cold all night in that frock of hers.

"I just hope he's okay out there. It's pretty spooky."

"And dangerous!" Bigfoot added, watching the nice lady as she warmed her hands with the fire, flexing her fingers so that the heat seeped into them. Huh, it hadn't seemed that dangerous to her, scary once you were off the beaten track since you couldn't see the hidden roots and rocks as you were walking but apart from that, the woods weren't that bad.

"Why'd you say it was so dangerous out here?" Jasper asked, flexing his fingers too, although it wasn't from a lack of warmth, more like the hair of his palms growing disturbingly long to the point where his skin felt like it was right next to the glowing embers.

"There's this hunter--S. Thompson. He's been setting traps for me all over the woods," Biggie replied and no one liked the sound of that. Not only did the idea of their new friend being caged like an animal make them feel awful, but they also didn't feel safe anymore knowing that there were claws and contraptions hidden under leaves and branches. 

And of course, their favourite idiot was out and about in it, hunting down the treasures he'd seen out of the corner of his eye.

"Hey!" Ray suddenly shouted and poked his head above the flora to show that his hunt had led him back to their vicinity...and the allure of his sweet girl too. "I found some pork chops just lying here on the ground!"

"No, no, don't--" The gentle giant tried to warn him off touching the pork chops but it was too late. 

"G'ahhhhh, it was a trap!" Ray yelped in agony as a metal claw tanged and ensnared his arm with diabolic teeth. Luckily, he was the indestructible Captain Man, so there was no medical emergency, just the wailing of a lost lonely creature who should've followed its mate instead of sticking its nose where it didn't belong. "Monkey fungus, this hurts!"

"Oh my god..."

"You all right, dude? (y/n)'s worried!" Henry called to him and held a calming hand out to (y/n) to tell her that Ray was a big boy, she didn't need to run off to mollycoddle him. She was protective, he knew that, but technically this was on the idiot who just saw something he liked and grabbed it--come on, the world was not going to respond in the same way she did when he grabbed her ass.

"I'm o-kay!" Ray announced, easing his girl's worries with one bellow of his signature phrase. The pain wasn't so bad once his skin adjusted to the pressure and hell, it was worth it for a free pork chop that had been sitting on a dirty rock for who knows how long.

"Hey, is that a bottle of root beer? I'm gonna grab it," he suddenly gasped and no sooner than he did, he was off wandering in another direction, causing his friends to cringe. Something to was the crusty pork down, nice root beer that could've contained any other substance. Delicious.

"What? No, don't grab it! That's probably another trap, you doofus!" (y/n) shrieked over her shoulder but again, Ray didn't listen until he'd stuck his hand in yet another booby trap. The second the bottle left the pressure plate, it snapped shut on his other wrist with a force that would've broken the tendons there had it been anyone else.

"Cobra-Kai, that was equally painful! G'ahhhh..."

"That's the man you want to marry?" Charlotte asked (y/n) dryly, giving her one of her dubious looks as if to tell her that she was dumb for falling for such a moron. They were polar opposites, he could do very little right and she could do very little wrong; even if they had taught her what true love looked like, it was hard to see what the woman fell for since she wasn't the type to go solely off looks.

"Yeah...he has his good moments," she replied quietly and scuffed her sneaker against the dirt. She could name a million things that made her fall in love with Ray, starting with how kind he could, how gentle he was, and how he secretly cared more than anyone, to his floppy hair, baby blue eyes and goofy grin. Amongst other things.

"Oh my god, (y/n/n), what happened to your knees?" Jasper unexpectedly exclaimed, having watched the way she scratched her shoe into the ground and caught sight of the fading bruises.

They were barely visible, almost fully healed so really, she just had some very, very minor bruises that would disappear within the next five minutes. However, if Jasper knew her superpower, and he did, he'd say that for them to be like that, she must've scuffed them up pretty badly. What had happened?

"Oh, uh...um..." the woman stuttered and prayed that the heat from her cheeks couldn't be felt by the kids over the fire. She had to think of something quickly, something that couldn't be added to the pile of reasons why she adored her doofus because it would scar all of them for life.

"Oh, uh...on the way back, I tripped on a tree root and cut them! Nothing super-regeneration can't fix, though..." was her pathetic excuse, which thankfully, went over Henry and Jasper's heads as though the scenario was plausible. They nodded and smiled sympathetically, telling her to watch where she was going in future, powers or no powers, but Charlotte didn't look so convinced. Yeah, sure, she tripped all right. Straight onto Ray's--

"People have been hunting you for years. What's so special about this guy?" Schwoz asked, turning to Bigfoot who was strangely tense after Jasper mentioned (y/n)'s banged-up legs. They were grown-ups, not idiots and the hairy man cleared his throat before continuing, sparing his and the woman's blushes with some tactful conversation.

"He's really good. He knows exactly what I like; pork chops, root beer..."

"Season two of Will & Grace on Blu-Ray!" Ray shouted once more, having spotted the small plastic box on the floor but not the trap that was undoubtedly hidden beneath the shower of dried leaves and twigs.

"That's a good season!"

"That's a great season! Maybe I can pick it up with my foot..." the hero replied, having spent many a binge session with his sweet girl to watch the famous sitcom. It was a freebie, he had to get it but this time, he was going to outsmart the trap since his hands were full, sort of.

"Ray, stop!" Schwoz yelled, hoping to get him to come back but the man was a child--he looked with his hands, not his eyes.

"AHHHHHH! Sweet Megan Mullally, when will I learn my lesson?" he whimpered as his leg was captured too, the metal threatening to impale his skin, even though it was holding out. That was a good question, when would he? Probably never, which was why it was always best to send his handler rather than let him work it out for himself.

"Someone should go get him," Charlotte suggested, eyeing Henry and (y/n) since they were the ones her boss liked best. His sidekicks could handle him, no sweat.

"On it."

"Honestly, it's like looking after a goddamn toddler," the young woman sighed as she followed Henry speedily. Hopefully, they'd get to Ray before he did something idiotic enough to land himself in serious trouble and it was annoying that she had to move again when the fire had just begun to keep her toasty.

"Anyway..." Bigfoot said sadly, standing to his enormous height and going over to get a tangerine from Schwoz's basket as he watched the boy and girl jog away around the corner, "it's only a matter of time before that hunter, S. Thompson, catches me."

"Y'know, Biggie, my friends are superheroes. Maybe they can help get this guy off your back," the genius suggested. He hated to see one of his oldest and dearest friends so gloomy and if he could, he'd do anything to help. And one of the biggest ways he could do that was getting Ray, Henry and (y/n) to flex their super muscles, intimidate this asshat a little bit to leave the woods and its residents alone.

"Hey, Henry! Grab that top hat that's randomly lying on the ground!"

"No, dude. It's a trap!"

"But look how fancy it is!"

"Raymond! You already look like a fire-damaged Lady Gaga impersonator, don't you dare set off another one of these things!" Well, they were super most of the time. Schwoz and Charlotte shook their heads as they overheard the interaction of the sidekicks trying to get the hero to follow them, only for him to reiterate how dumb he was.

"I know, I'll just kick it out of the trap really fast before it closes!"

"No, you doof, that's not gonna work!--" (y/n) begged her lover and tried to grab onto his bicep and tug him away without aggravating the claw on his arm, but once Ray had an idea in his head, he didn't snap out of it. Not even when she whined at the sight of him getting lynched.

"Yeooooowwwwwww! Mamma mia, that's a spicy bear trap!" He yowled as his other got caught, meaning he was now snatched and snipped in all four corners; the pain was near unbearable but he had his prizes, including a dashing top hat that he hoped would make his despairing sweet girl fall for him.

"See what I mean? There are traps everywhere," Bigfoot sighed and Schwoz understood his predicament. From how easy it was to fool Ray, there was a different trap every few feet, so there was no wonder that he was on edge--one wrong move could spell disaster.

"Hey!" Ray yelled as he approached the clearing again, finally having been shoved that way after Henry wrestled him away from something else interesting - another spoil of bear trap war. "Did you guys know there's a bunch of traps and a really sweet top hat in the woods?"

"Yeah, did you also know there's a massive doofus who keeps falling for them too?" (y/n) hissed as she moodily walked behind him, watching how her lover limped from the pain and weight of the metal that clung to his body. He did look cute in the top hat, though, like a huge dork that her heart couldn't help but sing for no matter how much he irritated her with his antics.

The doofus wasn't the only creature falling that night. The sweet girls were at it too.

~A while later~

After peeling Ray from the traps, a task that had required all of them working together and a monumental amount of effort, the plan to save Bigfoot was well underway.

The heroes were in their uniform, ready to pounce should this S. Thompson guy show up prematurely but apart from the electric anticipation in the air, things were smooth. 

Using one of his many contacts, Ray had brought in a large, steel booby trap, one that wasn't like one of those piddling little claw things that had got him. No, this was the real deal, something he'd used to trick criminals hundreds of times before. 

It was a box, spread out flat across the woodland floor and when lifted by several ropes, it trapped whoever was dumb enough to be standing on it like an animal. It was genius, apart from the fact that they had yet to camouflage it.

"Thanks," Jasper nodded at Henry, who had taken the time to laser off the hair on the boy's hands since they had a lick of free time now that most of the work was done. 

"Yeah, you got it," the sidekick smiled, glad to help out his buddy. Well, he'd mainly done it to stop his complaints, not to mention the fact that the sight of the ever-growing hairs was starting to freak him out.

"It was really hard to go to the bathroom with all of that hand hair."

"I don't wanna hear about it," Henry said quickly, recoiling at the image of Jasper doing stuff and then, stuff getting on things and...ew. He did not want to hear about that, too much information but it didn't deter Jasper, not at all. 

Sensing his friend's discomfort, he merely smiled and warmly patted his arm before walking off, mentioning something about enlightening poor Charlotte with his toilet troubles instead. She and (y/n) had been sent off on a very important mission whilst the guys did all of the heavy liftings with the trap; they were told to collect twigs and moss and leaves--that sort of thing--any material that would cover the metal sheets and blend it into the ground. 

"Hey, we got the pine needles you wanted to cover the trap!" Charlotte announced, shuffling back into the clearing with a fluffy mound of brown foliage. Twigs, moss and leaves weren't that easy to carry, but millions of pine needles could easily be scooped up, even if they didn't make them feel itchy and scratchy. 

Walking to the centre of the flat box, the girls dumped their loads, watching as it fluttered to the ground and covered about one per cent of the metal, which didn't help them. The needles clumped together, so all it was were two brown lumps on the ground, not the thick camo they were after.

"Oh my god, where'd the trap go?" Henry asked sarcastically, looking at the two who didn't respond well to his dry quip. He'd expected them to either bring more or at least try and spread it out, give them a bit more coverage, but frankly, it was a pathetic effort on their part.

"Seriously, sweet girl? That's all the pine needles you could get?" Ray turned to his fiancée, whose eyes narrowed at the prospect of him pointing the blame but he didn't sound mean or angry, just soft and questioning. Right, the others could be told off but never her--she was the one he was enchanted by.

"Well, doofus, we could've gotten more if maybe someone would've helped us. I don't know, maybe someone with floofy hair and thirty-two-inch biceps?" (y/n) replied frankly, her hands on her hips since she wasn't a miracle worker. 

If she was an octopus, she would've been able to carry eight times that amount, or if she was a magician, she could float them over, but she wasn't. She was just a superheroine who'd tripped a million times in her cute boots that were sadly not designed for rocky terrain and had a lover who'd been too busy strutting about like an egotistical peacock to help her and Charlotte.

"Don't worry, darlin'. I got you," he smirked and for a moment, she genuinely thought that she'd gotten through to him with her flirting and stroking of his ego but then, he had to go and ruin it, "Jasper! Schwoz! Go with Charlotte and Miss Danger and get more pine needles."

The boss had spoken and upon receiving his command, the boys and girl sloped off to go and scavenge for more needles, leaving (y/n) to give him a boring look. And people said chivalry was dead.

"Wow, Captain Man. Thanks a lot!" She exclaimed in a faux excited voice, turning lethargically on her heel but not before pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. He might have pissed her off but she'd never leave without giving him one, otherwise, she'd never be able to concentrate on anything other than the knowledge that her doofus might not know how much she loved him. And she could never have that.

"So, what's the plan?" Bigfoot asked as the woman walked off to tell Jasper not to eat any unknown substances. It was his voice that broke Ray out of his trance, having been totally in a dream as he followed her figure until it had rounded the corner completely. What? What was that? Had he been thinking about her thighs again? Certainly not!

"We're gonna trap that jerk-bag hunter," Ray replied calmly. He still wasn't awed to be in Bigfoot's presence but he could tolerate him now that his system was clear and he had a job to focus on. 

"Yeahhhhh, Bigfoot likey!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, and then, as soon as we spring the trap, Captain Man and I will pop out and he won't even remember that you're Bigfoot.

"Oh, solid plan!" The hairy man grinned as Henry explained what they were gonna do and it did sound pretty cool. The hunter couldn't hunt if he didn't know what he was hunting, which was what made it so clever, if only they were that too. After all, they were so busy chuckling that they didn't notice the predator circling them.

"How does this trap worked?" Biggie asked, distracting them yet again from their surroundings. The stalker in the bushes was good at his job as Bigfoot had described, so he knew how to muffle his footsteps and creep about in the shadows to the extent that not even the great Captain Man with all of his experience knew what was happening.

"Great question, 'Foot!"

"You're gonna stand right over there and when the hunter sees you, he's gonna be like, doo-do-doo-do-doo-do! There's Bigfoot!" Ray played it out, acting like an idiot as he scampered over to stand in the middle of the trap.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, and then, he's gonna walk over and stand right here--this spot," Henry carried on, moving to stand next to his boss so they were adjacent to the pathetic pile of pine needles. They were so dumb; Thompson was standing right there and they didn't even know it, and neither did they see how huddling together was a really crap idea.

"Right here?"

"Mhmm, right where we're standing right now," Ray nodded to the other man, who was now in the centre of the box too, looking around intently but not that intently...or carefully.

"And then, Schwoz will hit a button and he'll spring the trap."

"This trap right here?" Bigfoot pointed to the metal under their feet, just to make sure he knew what they were planning. After all, it was his safety and everything.

"The same."

"The one we're standing over right now."

"And where is this button that springs the trap we're standing on right now?" Bigfoot asked, not realising that his biggest foe was eavesdropping on every word they were saying. It was like they wanted him to know how to outwit them or like they had a death wish because Thompson was getting some great tips on how to catch the beast he'd been after for so many years.

"Another great question, 'Foot. It is riiiiiiiggggghhhtt...there," Henry slurred, looking around for the button since he hadn't been paying attention when Schwox had been setting it up. He and Ray scanned the trees and surrounding bushes before their eyes landed on one big red button that had been nailed to a tree trunk. And that's when they finally noticed the man in the high-vis vest standing next to it. 

"Hey there, fella!" Ray suddenly said in a tight, chirpy voice that didn't soothe or fool Thompson. He knew a nervous person when he cornered one or three, including his prize.

"Would you mind stepping over here to the--" Too late. Nothing Ray could've said would have convinced Thompson to do anything but whack the button; he'd waited years to catch Bigfoot and now, he had him and he'd virtually walked into a trap set by himself. He wouldn't pass up that opportunity. Immediately, the trap was sprung and a series of pulleys above their heads pulled the walls up, magnetically locking the three in a solid steel box.

"Woo!" The hunters had become the hunted.

Inside, Ray pulled a portable light from his belt and stuck it to the wall, giving them light now that the moon was hidden due to the height of the metal. It wasn't great but at least they could sort of see.

"Okay, we need a new plan..." Henry hissed to his boss, who knew that it was just a question of what. They couldn't get out, not on their own and little did Thompson know but they had two teens and a weirdo and a hot superhero out in the woods as a backup. He knew what to do.

"Scream for help?"

"Scream for help." Henry nodded and instantly, the three bawled at the top of their lungs. The noise ricocheted out and into the night air as they begged for mercy, for someone to come get them and for the hunter to not hurt them--Ray even tried thumping on the walls to no avail. All that could be heard was that hillbilly celebrating his easiest victory ever.

"Woo! Gah! Yeeewoo! Finally got Bigfoot! Yeah, gah, you're in there, boy! Woo!" He screamed and banged his fist against the steel, causing Biggie to jump at the racket as his enemy taunted him. "I'm gonna call the news right now! That's right, I'm gonna be famous! I'm definitely gonna get married now..."

"Not before I do, buddy..." Ray muttered, fully aware that the asshole couldn't hear him but still. He wasn't gonna be carted off like some freak and fail his mission there had to be some way out, after all, he had a very important date to make at some point. And even so, he doubted that any girl would want to come in three feet of a man who wanted to poach innocent beings.

"Dude, he's calling the news. What are we gonna do?" Henry questioned worriedly and ignored the murmurings that fell from his boss' mouth. He was more concerned with their current predicament than whether Thompson thought he was God's gift to women or water.

"Oh, come on. Like the news is gonna pick up..." the hero scoffed at his sidekick's worries. Not to be mean or anything but S. Thompson was a bit of a weirdo and he doubted that the news would pay attention to him at all--if anything, this would be a wake-up call for him to get a proper job.

"This is the hunter, S. Thompson and I trapped Bigfoot. Bring your cameras, you can be the first people in the world to show pictures of him!" The hunter's hushed voice came from outside and quickly, Henry gave Ray the stink eye. He just had to jinx it, didn't he?

Yeah, the news was interested, they had very little else to do, so now, Mary, Trent and probably all the other creature fanatics in Swellview were headed their way. 

"He called the news! They're on the way!" Bigfoot exclaimed in a panicky voice. He was freaking out at the thought of being exposed to the world and from the sounds of it, he was near tears at the thought of being labelled a mutant, a sideshow freak. 

"Relax, 'Foot, I'm gonna laser us outta here," Ray told him soothingly as he plucked his controller from his belt. He'd had a great idea and hell, it had once been tried in a movie so it might work now, even if in that movie, the theory hadn't panned out.

"What? No, no, no, dude, it's diamond-plated steel--" Henry tried to warn him that firing a laser could have disastrous consequences but like always, Ray didn't listen. Schwoz and (y/n) had said something about the metal being extremely durable and resistant, so a silly laser wouldn't do a thing, not even a scratch, as they were about to see.

Ray fired a small shot, not at full strength but not a mild one either, but when it came into contact with the patch of walls above their heads, the plasma bounced. It another plate and another and another, ricocheting all around them until it burned a hole in Bigfoot's fur. 

"Ow!" He yelped in pain as the heat seared away all of the hair to leave his skin underneath smooth and pale. Definitely not one of Ray's best ideas.

"Maybe if I set this thing to kill..." he muttered, again not thinking with his head. Stupidly, he didn't make the connection that a stronger laser wouldn't help, all it would do was render one of them dead, so Henry would have to wrestle to stop him before something disastrous happened...or maybe not. He'd just had a brainwave.

"Hang on a second. Dude, dudedudedudedudedudedude--"

"What? What?" Ray looked at him, agitated from all of the pesterings. Seriously, that was as annoying as (y/n) begging him for a slurp of his drinks all of the time but without any of the butterflies.

"Dude, look at his arm," Kid Danger said, pointing to Biggie's right arm, the one that had been nicked by the rogue laser.

"Yeah, it's big, but mine are way bigger," the man replied, not seeing the significance of the other guy's arms when his were superb. Come on, they made Miss Danger swoon whenever he tensed them and so, that's what he did, flexed them to make them puff up into the physique that he was well-known for. 

"What? No, that's not what I'm--" the boy shook his head and got his boss to knock it off because his name wasn't (y/n) - thirty-two-inch biceps didn't work on him. "Look at the bald spot! It looks like he's got normal skin." He redirected his attention to the lasered spot, which kinda looked like Jasper's head had been after the unfortunate incident.

"So?" Ray shrugged again, not seeing why the kid was getting so pumped over silly old Bigfoot. 

"So, this might sound crazy but...what if we shave Bigfoot with our lasers?" Henry suggested, looking at Ray with a devious smirk. Hell yeah, it was crazy and kooky but they were desperate, so maybe they needed a bit of that. 

"Okay...love that," Ray was up for it anyway. After the Jasper incident, he'd discover that seeing someone with their hair gone was pretty funny and besides, Bigfoot was known for being hairy--what would the news crews do if they turned up to a pink blob and two superheroes? Probably nothing.

"Uh...I don't know, guys. My hair is kind of my thing," the hairy man said anxiously. He had some doubts, which was understandable but it might be their only option.

"Exactly! So, if we zap your hair off, when they open this up, it'll just be three totally normal, hairless dudes just chilling in the woods!" Henry explained. Honestly, Biggie didn't know if getting caught as a beast or as one of three guys in the woods was worst--the boy did make it sound a bit weird, especially when he and Ray did their weird little hand-wiggle thing.

"Hairless boys!"

"Exactly!" They grinned and did their little high-pitched tongue noises as their fingers wiggled together before looking at the man expectantly.

"Uh, I don't know..." Bigfoot debated, sounding unsure since it had taken him a long time to get to be the walking carpet he was now. How long would it be until he got his hirsute splendour back? But then...

"Woo! Ya hear that? The news is comin'! Yeah, the world is finally gonna know the name of the hunter, S. Thompson! You're mine now, ya big, smelly hairbag!" The obnoxious poacher's voice came from outside and the southern drawl sent a shiver down Bigfoot's spine. Right, he had to remember the alternative and what would happen to him if he didn't lose his hair. It didn't bear thinking about.

"Be gentle..." Finally, he came to a decision; the hair had to go. At least if they set it to a weaker setting then the beam wouldn't be as strong or painful, and so, with the devices turned down low, Henry and Ray got to work. Biggie's eyes were squeezed shut as green light began to glide across his fur, taking it away bit by bit. 

It was just hair. It would grow back. Being bald was temporary, being trapped and experimented on was forever.

~Deeper in the woods~

Whilst all of that had been going on with the boys, (y/n) had been traipsing after Schwoz, Charlotte and Jasper for what seemed like forever. 

The boy kept seeing bright plants and flowers that he liked the look of--plants and flowers that (y/n) could swear were poisonous so she had a job keeping him alive as they each collected large armfuls of pine needles until they could carry no more. 

They'd been at it for a good ten minutes, surely, they had enough to satisfy Ray and cover the trap, besides, Charlotte and Jasper could swear that she was getting antsier the longer she was away from her doofus. Stupid love, it made them so silly.

"Hey, I got more pine needles for the trap!"

"Me too!" The girls shouted as they came stumbling back from different routes, having decided that foraging in different clearings would be the best idea. Schwoz was already stood at the meeting point and like them, could barely see over his collection it was that plentiful.

"Okay, just put them over there by the bush--" he instructed them, thinking that they were gonna return to the campsite in a moment but he didn't expect them to just dump their loads on him. As if he was some sort of pack mule, Charlotte dumped her needles on top of his and because of that, (y/n) copied her, believing that he'd kindly offered to carry them so their arms wouldn't get all itchy.

"Wait, wait, that is not--" His protests came too late and then, Jasper returned as well with yet more pine needles.

"Comin' in with needles!" He shouted, carrying another million or so and Charlotte knew exactly what to do with them, after all, they weren't heavy or anything.

"Oh, give 'em to Schwoz."

"No, do not do that!" the genius protested, thinking that he could barely see as it was, he didn't want more needles on top of him. But Jasper had a problem, one that hadn't been taken care of earlier when Henry kindly volunteered to trim his hand hair because, for the most part, it had been forgotten about.

"I can't hear with all this ear hair!" Jasper yelled at an unnecessary volume and now that they looked, the girl could see that he had long tufts of hair sprouting from inside his ears. Schwoz had said not to itch them and Henry hadn't lasered them, so he was having a hard time listening to anything--including himself.

"Give--your--pine needles--to Schwoz!" (y/n) shouted directly into his ear, hoping that she was being loud enough to penetrate the long strands. Jasper strained to catch every word and nodded as he got the just of it, much to the small man's displeasure.

"Okay!"

"Wait! Don't--arghh!" he groaned as the final pile was added and whilst one small bundle weighed practically nothing, added together, it was quite hefty, enough to make him feel a slight strain. "I know my muscles are huge but--

"Hey, guys!" A voice suddenly came from the right to cut off Schwoz. He couldn't see who it was but for (y/n), Jasper and Charlotte, it was highly familiar--Piper. (y/n) squeaked at the thought of her seeing Miss Danger in the woods, fraternising with two teens who she wasn't supposed to know and in a split second of panic, she froze and looked for a place to hide as the girl approached.

"Someone caught Bigfoot in a trap--bye!" And like that, she was gone. Piper didn't even register that a gobsmacked heroine had been in the clearing, as well as a walking haystack so it was a surreal experience until the panic set in again for a whole different reason.

"Wait, what did she say?" Schwoz asked, not having heard the shocking news above the rustling of the pine needles. Plus, it was kinda hard to believe it since they were trying to do the reverse.

"Someone taught Bigfoot how to rap!" Jasper replied loudly, getting nearly all of the words wrong thanks to his hairy ears. To be fair, Piper had only been present for all of three seconds and Charlotte had (y/n) barely caught it, so he was at a disadvantage.

"No! Someone--caught--Bigfoot--in a trap!" Charlotte yelled, sounding out each word as the heroine had done earlier so he had time to catch them. Well, that didn't sound good at all, especially since if Bigfoot was trapped, then something must've happened to Ray and Henry too. Oh, god...

"We need to get back there!" (y/n) breathed out and gestured for the kids to run after her as a chill ran down her body. Her sweet doofus, Henry, Biggie, something must've happened, so she took off running with the teens hot on her heels as Schwoz floundered with the now useless needles.

"Wait, what about the pine needles?" He called after them.

"Who cares?!" Charlotte screamed over her shoulder and by that point, she was already gone by the time Schwoz said that he did. Miss Danger would have a heart attack if anything happened to her companions, especially her soulmate, but the genius was more concerned about what they had spent so long collecting. 

But he didn't have to think about it for long because as he worried about what to do with them, a large, grumbling man emerged from the bushes, heading straight for him. In his drunken state, the man collided with Schwoz, coating himself with the needles that for some reason stuck to him like glue and when he roared from the pain, Schwoz took off running.

He knew a monster when he saw one, even if that monster looked strangely familiar, so he left it to gurgle and claw at the fuzz clinging to his skin so he could make a break for it and catch up with the others.

~

In the clearing, things had started to heat up.

True to their word to S. Thompson, the news and all of their helicopters, crews and the genuine desk had turned up for the big report, one that would make the hunter famous once and for all. Trent and Mary were here and as soon as the cameras started rolling, he'd spring it for them to see, for the entire world to see.

Not only that, but a group of enthusiasts and local busybodies had arrived, hoping to catch a glimpse of the real-life Bigfoot in the man's trap, so their phones were ready for the big moment, whenever that would come.

"This is insane..." (y/n) grumbled to Charlotte and Jasper, her arms folded as she watched the news desk be lowered from the helicopter for Trent and Mary to sit at. 

There had been a few murmured whispers about why Miss Danger had suddenly stormed onto the scene with her face like thunder and two teenagers and a weirdo following her but she was too worried to pay attention. Apparently, Bigfoot was in their trap, which had worked perfectly only on the wrong people, and she just knew that her doofus was stuck in there too--the doofus.

"That's good, Rick!" Trent shouted to the helicopter pilot once the desk was firmly on the ground for her and Mary to sit at.

"Did I miss Bigfoot?" Piper asked Mitch Bilsky, who had indeed been the terrified camper spooked by Biggie earlier. The girl had been slowed down by her dad, who'd gotten lost somewhere along the way after eating some poisonous fungus, but she'd left him behind when the whir of the helicopter sounded above her head. Bigfoot was more important.

"Nah, that guy's about to reveal him right now," Mitch replied, pointing to Thompson as he loitered around the trap, "I'm gonna get a video of me looking at his feet going, what are those?!"

"If I could have everyone's attention!" The hunter announced and looked to the crowd where Mitch was being so immature, "I'd like to give a little speech." He said tenderly, annoying the buzzing crowd who weren't much for mushy sentimentality.

"Websters defines a hero as a big sandwich...but if you look a little further down--"

"Just open it up, ya gunch!" Mitch yelled, interrupting the dumb speech that was in no way relevant or tearjerking. For once, (y/n) was grateful for his big mouth and shuffled from one foot to another as the seconds lagged. She didn't want to hear some shit about sandwiches when her friends and lover were trapped inside and about to be revealed to the world.

"Fine, I'll open it," Thompson huffed, annoyed that his glorious moment as a hero had been shot down, but the best was yet to come as he grabbed the trap's release. 

"Behold! Bigfoot!" he cried and the walls fell into their original flat position. As (y/n) had predicted, Ray and Henry had indeed gotten trapped with Bigfoot, caught by that dumbass hunter but along with the heroes was a being who blew her mind. 

The cameras flashed as everyone gawked at the guy who was supposedly Bigfoot, but he wasn't. What had been fur was now smooth, pale skin that had seen little sunlight and the teens, (y/n) and Schwoz gasped as they saw Biggie looking like a proper man. His hair and beard were clipped, as were his torso and legs save for a section around his butt that had been kept furry to save his modesty. Honestly, they were just two heroes and a guy in furry pants, what was epic about that?

"Hey, everybody!"

"Hi, people of Swellview..." Ray and Henry greeted the crowd awkwardly as Bigfoot held his breath and tried not to shiver from the newfound cold. Ray turned to wink at his sweet girl, who sighed with relief when she saw that they were all okay but he wasn't able to quell her questioning look, not without tipping off the crowd that they were in the middle of a scheme.

"Trent, Mary, how's it goin'?"

"How are you?" They then turned to news crews, who looked equally perplexed because they had been expecting Bigfoot, not the crimefighters and some random big guy with weird fashion sense. S. Thompson had gone strangely pale and quiet as he took in his prize--or lack thereof--and he couldn't work out what had happened.

"So...where's Bigfoot?" Trent asked, searching the scene but coming up empty. God, he hated hoaxes.

"He's there! He's right there, look!" S. Thompson snapped, pointing directly at Biggie, who merely appeared shrewd and harmless at such an indictment, turning around as if he was just another curious onlooker--just how Ray and Henry had told him to act. If he looked in a mirror, he wouldn't recognise himself, let alone the fanatics and journalists around them, who always saw Bigfoot in one specific light.

"Who, Eddie? This is just our friend, Eddie," Captain Man lied, brushing away the hunter's accusations with faux innocence and his signature trustworthy persona. Everyone believed their favourite heroes because they loved them so much and their cunning made Charlotte, Jasper, (y/n) and Schwoz smirk at each other.

"Hi, I'm Eddie!" Bigfoot waved to the baffled crowd with a big grin on his face. They were confused but didn't suspect a thing; perfect.

"Yeah, and Eddie here, he--he likes to wear...hair shorts."

"Which are a real thing!" Henry said and was quickly backed up by Ray when everyone's gaze fell to Bigfoot's curious attire. Well, they couldn't leave him naked and from a distance, they just looked like a peculiar garment; it wouldn't be the first time Swellview had been hit by weird fashions, the hip youth was always doing odd stuff.

"Whoa...I never heard of no hair shorts," Thompson protested, glaring at the heroes as they tried to slip his prize out from under his nose. He knew the truth, he could smell Bigfoot after so many years of studying and he wasn't going to let them convince the crowd otherwise.

"Well, I have!" (y/n) abruptly exclaimed, crossing the clearing to come and stand in between Henry and her doofus, bringing with her an opinion that the citizens of Swellview could never refuse. 

Miss Danger was often spotted in every magazine going, whether they be gossip or fashion because everyone wanted to know what she thought or wore or liked, so if she put her seal of approval on hair shorts then they would be in every boutique in the city before the next sunrise. 

"Yeah, I've heard of hair shorts and I think that they are the coolest. I have so many pairs at home!" She lied through her beaming smile as Ray stood smugly next to her and put his arm around her waist. She smiled at that, feeling her heart flutter now that she knew he was safe and sound, even if the camera flashes meant that they'd be headlining the news again as the city's hottest couple.

"Did you hear? Miss Danger says that hair shorts are the coolest!" Charlotte repeated to the crowd in a robotic voice like she was an avid fan eager to follow the heroine's way of life to a tee.

"Yeah! And she's an influencer so hair shorts have to be cool!" Jasper carried on, sending the crowd into a hush of whispers because that's how society worked in the modern era. Celebrities were the leaders and the mere mortal public were the sheep and none could be prouder than Ray as he stood on the arm of the hottest woman in town.

"I--I mean, those are the rules," Piper acknowledged. She was an internet loiterer, constantly checking and refreshing every app and website going for new trends and gossip, so she'd know what to do if one of her idols said something; follow it to the letter.

"Come on, guys. Let's go get some hair shorts!" Mitch smirked at his pack of buffoons, showing that the pack mentality was starting to work--hair shorts would be popular come tomorrow afternoon. And that did not please Thompson.

"No, wait! Don't leave!" he begged the crowd, who were beginning to lose interest now that they knew that Bigfoot was still a mystery and he a loony. "Y'all, that's Bigfoot and I found him! And I'm gonna get married!"

"Fat chance of that..." (y/n) said under her breath so only Ray and Henry could hear her. The man chuckled at her response that was along the lines of his and it was when he had pressed his lips to her temple joyfully that something came stumbling out of the undergrowth.

The crowd gasped as a hulking, moaning creature staggered into the clearing, looking like it had been in a fight with a dead bush and lost, and sounding like it was in pain--kinda like Bigfoot. He was hairy, sort of, and animalistic in his manner, so they snapped a few pictures for evidence of what was actually Mr Hart covered in a load of sap, pine needles from Schwoz, whilst slightly high from the moss that he'd eaten by mistake.

"That's Bigfoot!" Mary cried from the desk, pointing at the terrifying monster as it snarl at the stunned crowd, who quickly descended into madness as they saw what looked like a creature from a fairytale. 

As the disorientated man swayed, they charged, eager to get a hold of Bigfoot and Mr Hart ran for his life, the bleariness in his eyes making it difficult until they were all lead away from the trap. And that left the Man Cave team and "Eddie" alone at last.

"Well, that just about wraps it up," Ray said with a clap of his hands and he could honestly say that he was ready to go home. He had unfinished business with his sweet girl and the idea of falling asleep with her as they watched movies in the bed sounded heavenly.

"So..." Henry nodded, knowing that there wasn't much else for them to do now that all of the hunters were on the wrong trail and they'd met Schwoz's friend as they had set out to do. "You guys wanna go back to the Man Cave and watch Will & Grace?"

"Season two?" Biggie asked.

"Do you even have to ask?" Henry giggled and the man and boy bumped fists as everyone agreed that the plan couldn't be better. Well, that would (y/n) and Ray down to the ground, they'd fall asleep watching anything, in their room or not in their room, as long as they could cuddle, which they inevitably would. 

"Let's go!" (y/n) grinned and ushered them all to get moving so they could leave all of the drama behind. However, as the teens, Schwoz and Bigfoot turned to go, Ray's eyes wandered and spotted something shiny and interesting yet again. There were so many traps yet for him to discover...so many things for him to take.

"Ooooh, look. Some cheese titos!" he smirked deviously and wiggled his fingers, indicating that he was gonna swipe them for a binge-watching snack. He would never learn his lesson, no matter how many times he hurt himself or had his fingers smacked by his precious girl.

"What? No, dude, no!" Henry tried to stop him, not wanting to go through the same struggle again but this time, (y/n) was willing to let Ray learn for himself. After all, once bitten twice shy, right?

"No, kid, just let him. Sadly, this is the only way he'll learn," she sighed and held a hand out for him to stay where he was. He was her doofus and she loved him but she wasn't going to spend their lives together running around to wrap him in cotton wool. He couldn't be an idiot forever, he'd soon learn to keep his hands to himself.

"These things are cheesetastic!" Ray grinned and reached down to grab the bag as he kept smiling at his tired fiancée. He'd just get these and then, they could go because of course, he wasn't aware that he was the one tiring her out with his antics. 

"ARGGGGGGHHHHH!" And then came the pain. The claw closed on his hand as the others had and it was like his hand was being ripped off constantly but refusing to let go of his wrist. "Crunchy snacks, that smarts!"

His friends cringed but as the pain passed, they assumed that he'd hobble back to (y/n)'s side to lick his wounds and seek her comfort, but no. In true Ray fashion and despite his silent promise, the hero looked to his left and saw something else, another doohickey that he fancied, and he figured that one more trinket could hurt. Traps could hurt, though, and hearing him in pain was even worse for some.

"Hey, look! A cane! That'll go perfect with my top hat!" he noted as he ate a chip and felt so giddy about the idea of being a pristine gentleman for his sweet girl that he skipped off to go and retrieve it. At this rate, they'd never go home, not until he was immobilised by metal and carrying a bag full of worthless tat.

"Or...he'll never learn." the heroine lamented, burying her face in her hands as Ray went off again...and got trapped again. Did he not know that he was breaking her heart and tearing down every word she said in his defence? She could get him titos if he wanted and she didn't need him to dress up, dressing down was preferable and now, he was a bigger doofus than ever.

"Ow! Puttin' on the Ritz, that hurts!"

"Are you sure you wanna marry him? It's not too late to run for it, y'know..." Charlotte retorted to the woman, who didn't take any offence from her words. She was joking, that was clear, the girl would never ruin the relationship that she helped to forge, but it had to be said yet again. 

They were so different and him so difficult--did she really want to sign herself up for a lifetime of that?

"You don't know my doofus like I do. He's a massive idiot and he drives me insane but he's my massive idiot. I wouldn't have it any other way... I love him."

Hell yeah, she did.

[skz-sarang]

. . . - ̗̀ ౨ৎ WHAT’S ? ! ? IN MY 👜 BAG ، . ˓ ִֶָ 𖥔

Lovey is a girl with a lot of style, and she has a particular love for accessories, especially bags and shoes, she has a wardrobe full of them galore.

she has many bags, of various sizes, each for a different situation, for example, to go out in the evening she uses rather small handbags, and very often of known brands such as miu miu, prada, chanel or so on. Very often gifted by other members ambassadors of certain brands, such as the two louis vuitton bags given to Sarang by Felix.

to go out daily instead, she prefers a bag large enough to let in everything she needs. The bag he currently uses is a puffer tote bag of the brand ‘my mum made it’ in cream color.

౨.&&. . . ELECTRONIC SUPPLIES! ⋆ ｡ ˚ ⋆

... iphone, ipad, airpods, airpods max ... in short, sarang is a apple products’ lover (she also has the apple watch on her wrist !! ) . In addition to the phone, which explains itself, lovey carries the iPad in her bag every day, because it helps her to work, recording her own rehearsals or taking notes for new lyrics; and headphones because her life is made of music, and she can’t do anything without it. It also has a charger and a powerbank.

౨.&&. . . GLASSES! ⋆ ｡ ˚ ⋆

Sarang has vision problems, which is why he uses eyeglasses. A pair of spare glasses, with contact lenses and eye drops, can’t be missing in his bag. Plus a pair of branded sunglasses for the sunniest days.

౨.&&. . . BEAUTY ESSENTIALS! ⋆ ｡ ˚ ⋆

Lovey never leaves home without a collection of beauty essentials to keep her looking fresh and fabulous throughout the day. Her bag includes: lip balm and lip gloss to keep her lips moisturized and shiny, compact mirror for quick touch-ups, Hand cream to ensure her hands are always soft and smooth, Travel-sized perfume and a little Makeup pouch with items like mascara, eyeliner, and a mini brush set for any necessary touch-ups.

౨.&&. . . WELLNESS ITEMS! ⋆ ｡ ˚ ⋆

Health and wellness are important to Lovey, so she carries a few essential items to take care of herself: hand sanitizer, wet wipes, pads and tampons, tissues, first aid kit (Including band-aids, pain relievers, and any personal medications.) She also has a baby pink reusable water bottle to stay hydrated on the go and some healthy snacks such as nuts or granola bars for a quick energy boost.

౨.&&. . . MISCELLANEOUS! ⋆ ｡ ˚ ⋆

Lovey's bag contains a variety of miscellaneous items that she finds useful such as a planner or notebook for jotting down ideas, plans, or reminders; pen and pencil for writing in her planner or notebook and hair ties and clips.

౨.&&. . . ESSENTIALS! ⋆ ｡ ˚ ⋆

Last but definitely not least there are three essentials items which Sarang can’t do without: her Keys, with a pink my melody keychain; her wallet containing her ID, her drivers license, credit cards and some cash; and the jyp badge to get into the entertainment.

Lovey's bag is a perfect reflection of her organized, stylish, and prepared personality. Each item serves a purpose, ensuring she is ready for any situation that comes her way.

©2024 , skz-sarang masterlist

!TAGLIST! : @smh-anon (send an ask to be added to the taglist!)

[pjsk-headcanons]

breaks knuckles we're doing akinene ( •̀ ^ •́ )✧

Context for later stuff: In my mind, WxS have a game where they yell out random parts at each other and do their best to play it for the next five minutes. Mizuki is fully in on this and even participates. (Mizuki theater kid canon TO ME)

Akito didn't realise he was into Nene before she got all confident, and now he's just down bad. Unforch for her, Nene has a thing for Loser Boyfails, now that she is no longer a Loser Girlfail. (To the same extent, at least...) She takes one look at this guy, sighs very heavily, and starts taking notes on how to become his friend. (In a very neurotypical fashion.)

They're bi4bi but lean in opposite directions and are so used to being percived as gay that all of their friends are Very Confused when the resident lesbian and chronically gay guy start making out holding hands - and I say holding hands because they are both embarrased to hell and back. This does not mean they're going to lay off the PDA though. Making your partner embarrassed is the highest form of love.

Before they got together, Nene attempted to act (Y'know. given she's an actress.) like Akito's friends to try and win him over, which means being bubbly and listening to the entirety of both RADder and GLaP days' catalouge trying to figure out how to start a conversation. Eventually she gives up and tries talking about her intrests, specifically a game she knows Toya also likes (Slime Rancher). This is exactly what she needed to do from the beginign because, as stated, Akito is down bad and will just sit there staring in awe while she infodumps.

Nene shows up to a VBS performance in full theatre kid attire and Akito proceeds to buy her an entirely new wardrobe.

Akito is forced to go to WxS performances. Nene begs him not to but Kohane and Toya had already bought tickets and An cant make it so he kinda has to. Half the performances are Nene doing the stupidest shit imaginable (She fills in for Tsukasa on the human canon one time and now Rui thinks it's acceptable to do literally anything to her-) or she's playing the villan and holy shit is he gay straight bi.

Nene unironically says "unforch" and it's begun rubbing off on Akito. Which means Kohane and Toya and Kotaro too. An is sobbing in a corner.

Ena is the last person to find out about this. She thinks Akito just has some random girl on his arm or whatever but she goes to the Shinonome Household one time and Ena's impression shoots up instantly when she finds out Nene is not just a girl, but a Gamer Girl (who listens to n25).

Mizuki jokingly threatens to kick them out of Kamikou's Pride Club for being too straight. An actually threatens to kick them out but bc of the aformentioned WxS game - Rui keeps giving her slutty parts intentionally and boy howdy does Akito fall for it.

Rui: Nene! Kinky assassin! Nene: What gender? Rui: A guy. Nene: On it. (To Akito) Wow I've, um. Dropped my assassin killing gun. Into your dick. D'ya mind if I fish it out? Akito: (Spluttering) An: (Groaning) Toya: (Chuckling) Everyone Else: (Roaring Laughter) Mizuki: Okay, now do it for real. That means not on your boyfriend. Nene: Sure. (Walking over to Rui and holding a Finger Gun below his neck) Wow... Sure would be a shame if I had to feel up your insides, removing any trace of life, raw and bleeding, so all that was left was a variety of products to be sold... (Shrugs) Too bad you wont be awake to feel it. (Shoots Finger Gun) Akito: (Has not said anything and we're not sure he can.) An: (Bemused Laughter) Everyone Else: (A Light Smattering of Applause) Nene: (Mimicking Tsukasa) Now back to talking about that policy that wants to make our existence illegal. Tsukasa: How dare you mock me, a future world star??!! Nene: Yeah, you can't be a star if you get hatecrimed, dude.

They stay up all night playing Splatoon! <3 I love me some gamer gays. They did almost break up over Mario Kart, though...

formatting this on my phone was a mistake... but yah i think thats it for now!! i'll probably think of something else in ten minutes though... from 🎲 anon!! (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

.

[sleepysloth99]

Hey yall, I don't know if anyone knows about these games. They're called Lacey's Games. I feel like I should address a few things about it.

For those of you who don't know, Lacey's Games is an old flash game horror series about this girl, the one in the picture, named Lacey and with a series of games depicting her in various scenarios. Each scenario is similar to an early 2000s flash game made for girls such as makeup games, dress-up games, cooking games, etcetera. However, each game holds a dark lore to it. A dark lore that I will explain as gently as I can. I need to address this to give context to anyone, seeing this explaining the issue.

TW BEFORE I START EXPLAINING THE LORE:

The following contains topics that may be upsetting to some readers. Lacey's Games deals with topics such as child abuse, child SA, animal abuse, gore, body horror, stalking, and suicide. Viewers' discretion is advised.

Lacey's Games has a total of 4 games. Each game depicts Lacey, the protagionist, in a variety of scenarios with lore to it. We'll start off with Lacey's Wardrobe. In this game, Lacey has 3 places to go to. She has to go to a park for a picnic, then she has to go shopping at the mall, and lastly, she has a date with "the cutest guy." You as the player, has to help her find cute outfits to wear.

The gameplay itself is very simple. Customize Lacey however you like with shirts, pants, skirts, accessories, shoes or heels, and various hairstyles. As you go through each stage, you'll notice a man in the background standing and staring at Lacey. This is a stalker who is the same guy Lacey is supposed to date. By the end of the game, Lacey gets dressed after she begs the player not to let her out since she knows her fate. Then she is murdered and dismembered by the stalker.

The face of the stalker is shown with the description: "I ate her remains so that we will be together forever. I love you, Lacey." The game takes us back to the main screen.

Now onto the second game. Lacey's Diner. This one follows with the player helping Lacey cook a meal for the guests. If the player fails, they will find Lacey having a mental breakdown and commanding the player to give her a variety of ingredients. Each ingredient contains a disturbing entry. The ingredients are labled as:

Cigarette butts

A dead cockroach

Meth

Broken glass

Pornography

Used condom

Uncle

I won't show the image of each ingredient, but I will give you all the most of the descriptions and entries of the ingredients.

Cigarette Butts-"These moments were hard to forget because they were superglued from my heels to my thighs and not even the strongest bird beak could peck it off. the smoke tinted me in grey forever and it made me tear up so much I almost cried in front of him once. Never again."

A dead cockroach-"First they dominated the ceiling of my room. But then I started seeing them everywhere bugs and bites and dirt and ash and vomit where they shouldn't have been. They were all cloudy but crisp and very jumpy and I wanted to suck it all inside of me like a reverse frog dissection and end it all for once."

Pornography-"Face sucked by the static, the grains tickled uncle's eyes with pleasure. He was the same as me but didn't want to admit it. he lived in a world of his own where he was desirable and sensual and he got so used to his lies that he believed what the computer would whisper into his ear

The rest of the ingredients had a few entries. The broken glass talked about self mutilation, the meth had the name "Rocio" on it (keep that in mind, this'll be relevant later on.) The used condom talked in disturbing detail of child SA. Hence why I didn't want to post the transcriptions since I got extremely uncomfortable. But if anyone wants more info, they can always find it. The transcriptions I provided were copypasted from the Fandom Wiki.

The final ingredient, Uncle, shows a clip of a man showing his face. A man who is clearly supposed to be Lacey's uncle. What's interesting however, is that the clip doesn't look stylized at all. It looks like a real clip of someone was used and placed into the game. But Lacey's Diner goes deeper into Lacey's backstory where she was physically, mentally, and sexually abused by her uncle and kept in unsanitary conditions. The game ends with Lacey committing suicide after she makes the statement:

"This is all I have and the customers are hungry and unforgiving."

Someone commented on this statement on a YouTube video analyzing this game series saying: "As a woman, this hit me a lot harder."

And I can understand it. If I reflect upon my experiences with girlhood from childhood to teenagehood as well as past crime cases I have studied, it is clear to me that this quote from Lacey is a whole lot more than a server being abused by her workers. Lacey is a young girl who is being pressured to serve guests. All she has is her ingredients, the key ingredient is herself, the very embodiment of the horrors so many girls ad women are subjected to in their own homes. She is all she has, and all the clients do is take and take. If she fails to fulfill their desires for "food," she will be punished for it. Sound familiar?

I think Lacey's Diner isn't a diner. I think this is a metaphor for a girl being subjected to abuse and trying to appease her abusers in a desperate attempt to earn a living and to leave her uncle once and for all. When she serves a dish with her dead uncle in it, the restaurant closes down due to sanitary issues. But I don't think the broken glass, used condom, and other ingredients were placed for shock value. I think this was the developers' way of conveying Lacey's lore. Well, one of the developers, at least. More on that later, onto the next game.

Lacey's Petshop is the 3rd game that starts off much differently than the others. It starts off with Lacey listening to her MP3 where Grace, one of the developers of the game, is interviewed by another woman. The audio talks about Grace being unaware of the content riddled in these games until she received angry messages from parents complaining about the horrific themes their children were exposed to. Grace initially didn't believe it until she played it for herself.

At this point of the post it's worth noting that there are 2 developers. Grace, the clueless developer, and Rocio Yani. Remember the name, Rocio? Rocio is a drug used to relieve stomach aches. This name could be found in Lacey's Diner after putting the "Meth" ingredient into the bowl. Rocio isn't just the name of a medication, it's also the name of the 2nd developer. Considering how Grace didn't know what was in the games, it tells me that the developers were not on the same page with the content in Lacey's Games. In fact, it tells me that Rocio added this without Grace's knowledge. Furthermore, Grace also made remarks dismissing Rocio's odd behaviors, including her screaming and mentally breaking down while she worked on Lacey's Games. She would brush off Rocio's behaviors with "she was just crazy" or "she was weird."

The game itself shows Lacey getting pets perfected for their owners. The first owner wanted her dog washed and trimmed, the second wanted her cat's fur dyed purple, wearing red contacts, and with shades, the third wanted his bird trimmed, dyed, and wearing boots, then the fourth wanted her hampster's neck stretched out with pliers until it curved, then the fifth wanted his tortoise to have dentures so it can "smile at me," and lastly, the sixth one wanted his bunny's limbs cut off.

The game then distorts and becomes a point-and-click adventure game where you enter a distorted retelling of Lacey's childhood house. When the player steps into the dining room area, they will find pig humanoid creatures eating flowers. Presumably, the pigs symbolize her uncle, considering the fact that Lacey calls her uncle a pig. Interestingly enough, the pig creaures were eating flowers. One user online speculated that it could symbolize "deflowering" someone. Which, sadly aligns with the evidence the previous game provided. The player continues exploring the house until Lacey sits in a cage and says how "It hurts so comfortably."

This is trauma worded in the most... beautiful and authentic way possible. Coming from someone with trauma of her own, I understand the sentiment behind the sentence. The abuse Lacey faced scarred her, but it's all she's accustomed to. This is her normal. Everyone wants familiarity, that's what makes comfort. Normal is comfort. No matter the circumstances, normalcy is a sense of comfort. As a result, Lacey takes a form of comfort in the awful environment and abusive patterns she us subjected to because that is her normal. It's such a raw sentence that tells me that one of the developers, presumably Rocio, has faced this trauma. Given the fact that Grace didn't know the content Rocio added, and the mental breakdowns Rocio had that Grace previously mentioned, it appears to me that Rocio Yani made Lacey and Lacey's lore based on herself.

There was also the video clip of someone, presumably Rocio, saying in Lacey's reflection:

"These are the real girls' games. Not those lies that they tell you."

I think Rocio made all of this additional content in Lacey's Games as a way to warn young girls the dangers of girlhood. Stalking, SA, all of the things girls are subjected to and come to learn are common experiences amongst each other. I feel like Rocio put these into her games to vent about what happened to her. Which begs the question as to why I wrote this post.

I feel like with a project as sensitive as Lacey's Games, where events are so closely intertwined with real life events and are based on past experiences of the developer, we can't exactly treat Lacey's Games as a regular fandom. By that I mean, I feel like we can't ship, cosplay, edit, or make headcanons the way we can with other fandom since it's so personal.

Of course, internet's gonna internet. But what I'm saying is that we oughta be ethical and respectful to Rocio. If Grace herself doesn't even know if Rocio's alive and Rocio vanished after making all of that for Lacey, then it's clear to me that Rocio is a traumatized individual who suffered the many horrors of girlhood and projected it onto Lacey. Hence why we should really think before we post when it comes to Lacey's Games. Handle it with care. It's the least we can do for Rocio Yani. Thank you all for your time.

[no-light-left-on]

post-DotO Emily and human Outsider shenanigans, because their friendship needs more love. a little over 800 words

“How do I look?”

Emily looks up from her correspondence with the Duke of Serkonos to see the Outsider dressed in his new clothes. The shirt is of fine ashen grey silk, paired with deep blue pants and a waistcoat to match. He’s fidgeting again, his fingers toying with the corded loop of his top button, but he lowers his hands to let Emily take the whole look in.

She knew why she recommended her personal tailor to fashion the Outsider's new wardrobe for his inevitable introduction to the court.

The clothes suit him.

“You look stupid,” Emily says and the Outsider gasps.

“I will have you know that this style of embroidery and fine cording has a long tradition in Tyvia that predates the Empire of the Isles by centuries,” he tells her. “By incorporating it into the newest fashions of the Isles the people of Tyvia express their connection to their history and tradition while embracing the modern ways of life and cosmopolitanism of the Empire.” His back straightens and he rolls his shoulders back. The fine wool fabric hugs his chest perfectly and the silk of his sleeves falls over his slender forearms like waves of a stormy sea as it spills over into the Void. And yet the clothes make him appear much more human than the leather he wore back when he still was the Outsider.

Emily rolls her eyes. “Wow, you are nerdy and stupid.”

The Outsider’s cheeks flush with irritation and his top lip juts out. He is pouting. Emily chooses to forego teasing him about that.

“I thought you said you want to try something new?” she asks instead, diverting the Outsider’s attention from whatever lecture he had coming next about the importance of tradition and history of Tyvian folk motifs in aristocratic fashion. She vaguely remembers him speaking of it as she wrote a letter to Wyman while he decided how he should present himself to the nobles of Dunwall.

“This is different,” he says. “I’m wearing more colour than you could have ever possibly seen me don in the past.”

“Barely,” Emily shoots back. The blue of the fabric mirrors that of a clouded sky right after sunset. Variety, Emily thinks, is not something that she can expect from the Outsider’s wardrobe anytime soon.

Her tailor, bless her heart, does not say a word in regard to the insults thrown at the Outsider’s personal style and taste. “We can still adjust the fit,” she says, brushing over the differences between black and indigo or ash and slate grey that encompass all of the Outsider’s wardrobe. She’s heard enough on the topic from Corvo in her years at the helm of the royal boudoir. She provides no warning as she grips the strip of fabric at the Outsider’s back and pulls until the fit is snug and the Outsider startles and yelps. She pays him no mind, instead fixes the folds of the fabric fanning out over his backside.

Emily whistles. “Your waistline is incredible.”

“Thank you,” the Outsider says with a smug smile. “I hear narrow waist is popular with the older gentlemen of Dunwall these days.”

Both Emily and the tailor freeze.

“Do not,” Emily stresses, “ever say these words around me ever again.”

“I could fit the waistcoat to this size,” the tailor suggests in a desperate attempt to move the conversation anywhere that is not the Outsider’s subtle suggestion of sleeping with half of Emily’s court to gain their favour and support. “We can keep the clasp, too, but that is mostly seen as…” she weighs her words, “juvenile.”

“Leave it as is,” Emily tells her. “He’s going to fill out some, now that he has real food, and then you’d have to change it again. Save yourself the trouble, please.”

“Real food,” the Outsider mimics with a tinge of sarcasm. Juvenile, Emily thinks, is the perfect word to describe him after all.

“Yes,” Emily says. “You’ve only really eaten whatever in the Void Billie bothered to feed you with. And I would not ever dare suggest that to be real or proper meals, for the most part.”

“How would you even know what she fed me?”

“I spent a couple weeks with her. To call our eating habits proper meals would be an insult. Then again, your habit to eat only pastries is not to be considered a proper meal, either.”

The door opens, then, breaking the awkward air hanging over their little company, and Corvo walks in with a small collection of letters for Emily.

“Corvo,” the Outsider exclaims in way of greeting. “How do I look?”

Corvo does not spare him even a glance, instead passes by him to hand the letters to Emily.

“Stupid,” he answers after a beat of silence, and the Outsider pouts once more.

“I hate you,” he tells him, then turns to Emily, “both of you.”

Emily bursts out laughing.

[gothgleek]

Modest Veiled Helaena based on this post by @dirtytransmasc

Details under the cut

- While Alicent consistently wears long veils, Heleana is more experimental with her veils. OP mentioned that the two bond by styling their veils so I can see her wearing a variety of styles and patterns. However, while they are different veils, they would match what Alicent would wear either through patterns, length, or color.

- This dress is something her mother would’ve picked out, if not straight up worn herself. The dress is based on medieval dresses but the sleeves are Italian Renaissance inspired. She would be able to changed the shape of her dress by adjusting the sleeves. I can see her playing with that or with her long fabric belt.

- Helaena’s dragon riding outfit. I would have preferred Heleana style it more like this on her day to day as it seems like it would ‘quiet the loud world.’ However, I didn’t want to risk accidental appropriation. This ‘hooded veil’ also works as a good attempt to keep her hair tidied while flying but is loose enough where it could become messy or lost as OP mentioned in the post. This dress is based on Alicent’s tourney dress with the crossed bodice and on Rhaenerya’s dragon riding outfit because of course. The dress matches Dreamfyre’s scales.

- This is a hairstyle I saw on the Borgias where they sort of braided some veils into the hairstyle and it is something I can see Heleana and Alicent trying to perfect before a gala of some sort. Alicent likes it when her Targaryen silver hair is visible as a clear sign of her Targaryen roots so it’s a good combination of both. Dreamfyre is embroidered on the split sleeve of her dress.

- Once again, the I needed to dedicate on work to the veils. I like this more than the one I made for Alicent. Not much else to say about this one really.

- This one I can see as more directly inspired by her mother but with pastels and apple green tones instead of Alicent’s deeper green shades.

- Another Dreamfyre blue gown with a shorter lace veil this time. She is a Princess so she’s showing ladies of the court other ways to style a veil as it sways more people onto the Green team or at least visibly support them. I see her taking a lot of inspiration from her dragon for her everyday style. Blue is also a good variation for her wardrobe so she isn’t wearing green every single day. The opaque, billowing sleeves are inspired by her mother. I wanted to include some insects on this dress but unfortunately butterflies were too Y2K and spiders didn’t match. I do see her having ant shaped buttons down the center of her dress.

- The last dress has her in Targaryen pink. Viserys has a lot of Valyrian pride so he would want a family event wearing their house colors. She would somewhat obey him by wearing pink. The hairstyle and the dress shape with green and gold accessories however are all inspired by her mother.

[princessfbi]

okey so i need some tv recs for this hiatus 911 fan overall procedure fans i guess that's all the vibe i can think of to ask lol so hit me with your recs

EXCELLENT! So glad you’ve come to me Nonnie. I am honored. This is in no particular order but in terms of general procedurals with similar 911 vibes I’ve got a couple:

1. Sirens

It’s about a paramedic team in Chicago and it’s fucking hilarious. We're talking laugh out loud can still quote it from memory hilarious. There’s two seasons and each episode is about 25 minutes so it’s easy to get through. There is a British counterpart that is also funny but it’s definitely a different tone for sure.

**If you were a fan of Arrow then you'll recognize Josh Segarra

***Also you can scream with me and @lucydonato about the show

2. ER

I always describe 911 to people as ER for first responders. Part of that is because it’s so episodic. It gets really melodramatic at times and there are a LOT of story lines but for the most part the general stakes keep to one episode at a time and the show gives you permission to let things go which is nice. I’m a fan of the earlier seasons as opposed to the later seasons but Angela Bassett is in the last season. Lots of great guest spots and very character driven.

**Characters do die in this show so be aware of MCD warnings. No one is safe in that show. Except maybe Noah Wylie but that's cus it's Noah Wylie.

3. Numb3rs

It’s an awesome crime procedural with a twist on it. The oldest brother, Don, is an FBI agent who has his baby brother, Charlie, help him solve crime using math. This show has all the tropes too. Brother relationship, found family, etc etc.

4. Psych

It’s a procedural with a much lighter tone. Shawn pretends to be psychic and solves crime. It’s chaotic and messy and wonderful and perfect.

**Gives me coming home from the pool and vegging on the couch summer vibes.

5. Castle

On the same side of the coin, it’s another procedural with a twist. Castle is a successful mystery novelist who helps solve crime. Nathan Fillion for those fans of The Rookie and there's a lot powerful female characters in it.

6. Murder, She Wrote

MSW walked so that Castle could run. This is an oldie but a good. Angela Lansbury is a mystery writer who solves crime. It’s super cool knowing that she insisted on hiring a lot of older guest stars so that they could continue to be in the union and get their benefits. Also omg the 80s/90s wardrobe. There's also a couple of episodes with other detectives and crime solvers when Angela started to get tired carrying the weight of quality television on her shoulders.

7. Drop Dead Diva

THIS is such a good law procedural. It has the added bonus as having the same casting director as 911 so you’ll see a lot of familiar faces. But Deb is a model who died and got reincarnated in the body of a plus size lawyer named Jane and it’s the most wonderful little nugget that just existed in its own space. It was SO ahead of it's time on certain issues and it deals with a variety of topics such as body shaming, slut shaming, mental health, etc in such a kind and compassionate and positive way.

**Gives me late summer 'I haven't moved from the couch and omg it's season three' vibes

8. Scorpion

A team of geniuses (with neurodivergent representation in action genre scenarios) who help solve crime and crisis situations for homeland security. Lots of found family feelings! SO MANY! Big time character driven show.

9. White Collar

A white collar criminal agrees to help solve crime with the FBI agent who arrested him. Neal is so whumpable and it's one of the few times I've seen a fandom really embrace the idea of a poly relationship in fanon? Idk I wasn't really in it but the fics I saw all seemed to agree that no one would complain if Peter, Neal, and Elizabeth all lived happily ever after with their golden retriever. NOW, I will say this is a Jeff Eastin show and he has a tendency to take the amazing female characters in the show, throw them in a blender, and then bring them back as Frankenstein's monster bride and act like he didn't just ruin their character and it drives me fucking insane. BUT those first couple of seasons are fantastic.

Ask Me for TV Recs To Get You Through Hiatus

[daenysthedreamer101]

Daughter of Steel and Bronze ~ HOTD

Targaryen!OC Headcanons

Princess Daena's personal style during her youth

HOTD masterlist

This will cover Daena's youth and her style while she was still a maiden and before her marriage and pregnancies (110-115 AC)

She grew up in a time of decadence when the Targaryens were at the peak of their power and wealth

Plus she is a Princess of House Targaryen and her uncle is the King, ofc she's spoiled to the core

Lots of jewelry! Earrings, necklaces, rings, headbands covered in pearls and gems, you name it she owns it

Variety of precious stones and gems; amethyst, sapphires, diamonds, moonstones, pearls, opals, jade; but mostly rubies and red garnets.

Silver compliments her fair skin the best but also wears gold

Owns a special necklace of Valyrian steel given to her by her father, Prince Daemon

Owns plenty of chunky, chandelier necklaces with big gems - she mostly wears these in court

When she's hunting or flying she wears dainty earrings or studs so they don't mess with her hair

Has a habit of playing with her earrings when she's nervous

Wears at least 3-4 rings

Now, outfits

Silks, velvet, Myrish lace - nothing but the best for the daughter of the Rogue Prince

the classic Targaryen colors, red and black, are a staple in her closet

Once she claimed Vermithor bronze and copper became another prominent color in her wardrobe

Besides, bronze also represents her Royce side and her mother

Also purple! So much purple!

She fully embraces her Valyrian heritage and doesn't care to adhere to Westerosi standards; something she inherited from her father

Most of her dresses are cut in a way to emulate the styles of Old Valyria and the ancient dragonlords

Long flowy gowns with long, cape-like sleeves that spread like wings when she struts down the halls of the Red Keep

All of them cinch at the waist or have a belt that accentuates her figure

Ofc, she owns gowns that are more in line with Westerosi standards; she mostly wore these when she was young and still lived at Runestone

As she matured and developed her own sense of fashion, she started dressing more in line with her Valyrian side

It was partly because she genuinely wanted to honor her ancestors, and partly to make a political statement; she was a Targaryen and she will always be one and she will proudly show off her heritage

All of them are covered in rich embroidery and fine details

Her dragon riding suits are more angular and structured, with shaper lines

Some are made of leather, and some of harsher materials that are more durable

She has several riding coats in various colors; black, red, dark brown

All of them have belts because when she's flying she needs to secure all the chains of her dragon saddle to it

Next, her hair

She has the classic silvery hair of House Targaryen

It's a silvery blonde with a pearlescent shine to it

Keeps it long; it's past her shoulder blades

She has curly hair thanks to her mother, Lady Rhea

She doesn't straighten her hair like Rhaenyra

When she's flying or hunting, she usually braids her hair into a single plait or pulls it up into a braided bun

When she's at court or in her free time she usually wears it down but always has a couple of braids adorning her head

Owns plenty of headpieces and always has some sort of jewels in her hair

DRAGON HAIR CLIPS!

She takes great care of her hair and applies oils imported from Dorne and Lys to make it extra soft and shiny

Her hair smells like lemons and rose water

[eolewyn1010]

Downton Abbey Fashion 6 - Edwardian service worker fashion

Time for some Downstairs fashions! They have a lot less variety as we usually see them in uniform that they usually keep over at least one season change, so I’ll do this all in one go.

Firstly, the everyday maid uniforms that Anna and Gwen and later on Ethel and Jane wear (I assume they just handed down Gwen’s old uniforms?) throughout the first two seasons, pretty simple, greyish green frocks with long sleeves and cuffs, a ruffled front, short standing collars, plus a neat little printing pattern to loosen up the overall image. High waistbands, which will lead to some clash between fashion and practicality once the 1920s roll in. Interestingly, Anna wears various aprons to this, but they usually have some lace additions on them, as have the little maid caps, which seems like an unnecessary bother for an article of clothing you have to replace somewhat frequently. But then, this is the fancy Grantham household.

They wear black dresses instead to events when they have guests Upstairs, with little lace collars and notably frillier aprons and caps. Honestly, the shape of the upper parts of these aprons make them look a lot less effective at their job and a lot more like decorative additions. But then so are the headbands they wear to this, which are really much more bands than they are caps. This becomes more obvious in season 2 when the headbands lose a lot of their frill.

--------------

Daisy is not in uniform; she usually wears an apron over a simple, cute dress with a stripe print that, from season 1 to 2 goes through exactly one change: It gets a white collar attached to it. I cannot clearly remember if she ever, at any time of the year, wore something with long sleeves? Perhaps she doesn’t need to inside the house, working mostly in the kitchen.

--------------

Check out the variety – Mrs Hughes doesn’t get to wear one, but two black dresses on the job! In all honesty, they are nice dresses, all Edwardian stern matron outfit with long fitted sleeves and high collars, but the pinstripes on the first dress and the blackwork and lace on the second put this a tier above the maid uniforms. She’s the head of the household; she can afford some nice fabrics. And even a little pearl brooch that she wears on both dresses.

--------------

Granted, Anna also either can afford a nice pinstripe suit with a velvet collar or, also possible, she got it from one of the misses Upstairs. Not unlikely, as we later see her wear a dress that once belonged to Mary, and Sybil is already in the habit of dressing up her friends among the servants. I like that Anna chose this outfit for the city; it gives her a touch of worldliness that she doesn’t usually have at Downton.

For a walk the countryside, she chose this cream coat with shell buttons instead. Okay, can we talk about the pin tucks?? Because, that’s a lot of work, both in the front and the back. I know we are way past the invention of the sewing machine, but still, gotta put in the bother to set them all in so neatly. I’m also wondering why she didn’t put the velvet ribbon on her hat for the city; it seems a perfect match for the collar of the pinstripe suit. But anyway, this is the outfit in which Anna makes her love declaration, and she looks positively angelic. Subtlety whomst?

--------------

Gwen’s coat looks a lot more down-to-earth. If it’s a Tartan, it may well be a tweed in my book… The color is not very exciting, but the coat looks comfortable and well-worn, and the hat is just the cutest. That embroidered ribbon! It’s lovely, although it doesn’t match Gwen’s own coat nearly as much as the outfit she gets from Sybil.

Because for some reason, light blue-swamped Sybil just happens to have a walking suit in her wardrobe that fits Gwen perfectly and is a color as if it was made to match her hat. Whatevs. It does definitely help Gwen’s impression along, even though it turns out later that hiding her job as a maid was not in her favor. I hope she got to keep the suit though; it’s not like Sybil will miss it.

Also, they look like girlfriends out on a date here.

--------------

And back to Mrs Hughes. Her Sunday dress is all flowers, and she wears her pearl brooch again. It’s a bit dowdy, I admit, but I guess a woman her age won’t pull of the tailored coats and walking suits that Anna and Gwen do. Not that her own coat is anything to sneeze at, but since I can’t seem to get it in decent light, I don’t even know what color it is. But I have to give it to her: Her hat game is strong, especially in the second picture. Look at the plumage; is this a Crawley hand-me-down?

[soup-of-the-daisies]

thinking about sirius entering grimmauld place, abandoned, horrible, cold, another prison in his torn and paper-thin prison robes, unearthing a wand from somewhere in the house, and just thinking. fuck. i need some decent clothing. but his own wardrobe has been ransacked, and regulus’ robes are all too short, and he’s not gonna wear anything his mother would’ve worn and so. what options does he even have at this point?

he leads buckbeak into his mother’s bedroom and lets the hippogriff go wild in destroying everything within it, then leaves for the master’s suite. kreacher is following him, cursing at his ankles and deftly avoiding every swift kick sirius sends his way, snarling and grumbling as sirius sifts through the wardrobe of a man he still hates after all this time. he never had the chance to develop apathy. the closet holds a variety of beautiful, functional fabrics that smell of dust and a bit of rot; linen shirts and coats of firm, double-lined velvet, woollen trousers and barely-worn boots made of expensive dragonhide, thick outer robes all a decade or two out of date.

he takes the most muggle-looking set in the collection and leaves for the nearest bathroom. washes himself to the best of his ability—he’s got half a mind to stay unwashed out of sheer spite, but the ones who the spite would be aimed towards wouldn’t care are dead, so what purpose would that serve? the water sputters rust-coloured and smelly out of the creaking taps, so he cleans the bathtub with a scourgify and then fills it with an aguamenti; the soap is probably expired, but it lathers well enough. body first, layers of filth falling off his skin and darkening the water, then his hair, long and matted with blood and sweat and sand. the water is a muddy brown by the time he vanishes it and refills the bathtub again. it takes at least two more full-body washes before the water stays clear and his skin doesn’t feel like it’s covered in a film of oil.

he cuts the bulk of his hair somewhat blindly, uncaring if the severing spell nicks his skin. it may be clean, but it’s beyond saving: a thick mat hangs particularly heavy at the nape of his neck, soaking wet, and locks of his hair cluster together in unsightly, tangled clumps. it’s a representation of his lack of control in his own life. it hurts. it’s off. molly will probably help him cut it into something resembling decent later, when she and her family arrive.

sirius, truly clean for the first time in thirteen years, shakes out the clothing his father may have used for his rare trips into the muggle parts of the continent and wrinkles his nose. cleans them with a refreshment charm; a cloud of dust and dead insects rise up out of the fabrics, coalescing into a tiny ball of dirt. putting the clothing on his body is easier than he expected and there’s a hint of muscle memory as he does up the buttons, fastens the waistband.

the clothes smell, in spite of the refreshment charm, still like the stench of rot that permeates the entirety of number twelve. they also smell vaguely of a familiar cologne, of burnt pipe tobacco, of alcohol. they smell like disappointed speeches and expressionless faces. they smell of dispensable memories.

sirius takes one look at himself in the dirty mirror and sees dead eyes and a bitter, arrogant tilt to his mouth and grooves of worry and discontent in his face someone he doesn’t want to see. someone who’s been dead for fifteen years. and he goes off in search of something to numb himself with.

[queenoffishingandcookies]

No thoughts, just fem Battler at the moment.

Battler was born in 1968. It is currently 1986, and out of every family she could have been born to - it’s to the Ushiromiya Family, for all that she would be a generation removed from the worst of it (Kinzo), and then spend six years out of all the family drama with her maternal grandparents.

Not even taking into account the society she lives in:

The Ushiromiya Family has extremely strict standards that confirm to gender roles. In other words, extreme gender discrimination -> women are lesser than men, looking through the eyes of the elder generations that came before:

We think Kinzo is bad (and he is), from his extreme misogyny - but he had to have learnt that from somewhere. By somewhere, I mean his family. Maybe his parents, or grandparents, or the family elders once they got their hands on him).

We see it depicted most blatantly in Banquet, through Eva’s memory of speaking with Krauss about College (and Kinzo’s subsequent rage and threats of disinheriting her).

Paraphrasing both Krauss and Kinzo:

A woman’s job is solely to support the men in her life. There is nothing else but for a woman to be the support of a man -> that is their sole purpose. For a woman to pursue higher education, work in a man’s field - sciences, literature - is to be extremely conceited. She is selfish, unwomanlike.

In return, the duty of men was to provide for the needs of women. A women is to obey her parents (father) in her early life, later on, her spouse, and later still, her sons.

(In Battler’s case, she’s already been hit with strike one).

A woman is to be humble, gentle, and understanding of her spouse - to have a firm grasp on housekeeping, on more ladylike pursuits such as sewing, needlepoint, and so on. A good education in literature and so on is favorable, but they should aim no higher than their station as a woman.

She is to find a good husband who can build connections with and for her father, and carry and raise that man’s children so that someday, they too can build connections of their own for their father.

And then we have Battler, years down the line.

Battler, who is unapologetically herself and arguably not the traditional young lady. She no doubt dresses like one, especially when she is younger her mother picks out her clothes, beautiful dresses and cute skirts - but ‘ladylike’ clothes isn’t the only thing that makes a woman, at least in the eyes of society.

She is loud and brash when a young woman should be demure, as ready to kick a ball through the mud and wrestle in the dirty as any other boy on the playground. She’ll read bloody murder mystery books beyond her grade level and enjoy a variety of manga and western superhero comics just as much as any boy sitting next to her.

Battler’s a girl who won’t hesitate to punch a boy if she gets told that she can’t do something because she’s a girl, that boys won’t like her because she acts like a boy. Alternatively, that it makes her different from other girls to enjoy things meant for boys, that she’s one of them and someone to confide in and make crude jokes with - and hell, Battler might even find some of them funny.

She doesn’t act exceptionally ladylike in public, though she is polite, and gives absolutely zero fucks about it (an icon, basically).

Which would get her (really, Rudolf, from Eva especially) a lot of shit at the Ushiromiya Family Conference. Not to mention how that alters dynamics with Jessica, with George.

There’s so much different with the scenario of fem Battler, and yet Battler herself is still, Battler. Like, I want to chew on the concept of the misogyny and then homophobia regarding GB Umineko characters.

There’s so much to chew on here.

Appearance wise, Battler is…Battler. Still.

I already mentioned above and went on a whole tangent about his wardrobe how I don’t think a change in gender would effect it that much. Because I don’t think it would.

It’s not like changing Battler’s gender would change who they are as a person -> just their experiences, and how they got there.

She would still wear jeans and her bomber jackets as she pleased. If anything, she’d have more of a selection to chose from between skirts and blouses and dresses.

She knows how to wear dresses, makeup, even if she doesn’t always choose to - and when she dresses up, like for a fancy party, she goes from a chill zero to an atomic 100.

Jaws will drop and hearts will stop.

It’s like you think you’ve been staring at the radiance of the sun with your naked eye this whole time, and then suddenly realize you’ve been wearing sunglasses. Then, when they’re ripped off, you’ve discovered an entirely new spectrum of light and it’s burning itself so deeply into your retina that you’ll go blind, and then forever after be left with the afterimage of that dazzling glory.

That’s Battler.

And she can still kick your ass in heels. Possibly even more so, because heels are dangerous. Literally spikes that you walk on.

Battler just strolls in, owns the room (possibly kills a few people unintentionally while she’s at it), and minds her own business.

I’m kind of on the wire if Battler, similar to Jessica, would be concerned about romantic interests not finding appeal in her because of her masculine behavior… OR just not caring, because if they don’t like her because of who she is, they aren’t worth it.

It could go either way for Battler, really. Canonwise, he is just - a soft, squishy boy who loves the people he cares about so much that it burns him up inside sometimes. Even if he denies it at times. (Rudolf.) It’s why Beatrice was able to trample him in Turn of the Golden Witch.

Beatrice isn’t going to know what hits her (literally, if we’re looking at Banquet. That scene, just…that scene). You’ve got a near six foot tall, gorgeous young woman with crimson hair coming your way.

(Unfortunately, Battler won’t expect the cackling witch coming her way, either. Beatrice is such a Character, and I love her. Just - Beato and Battler. These two are just a give-and-take, and they are neck-in-neck in my eyes for just being…outside the standards of normal. Battler is going to unconsciously pine so hard for this lady).

R.I.P.

The internalized homophobia this girl (Battler) would have (and subsequently slowly crush beneath her heel in and over the course of a few episodes for her wife)….

The limit does not exist. Battler is having gay panic for a few episodes on the down low.

On the other hand of Fem Battler and Beatrice ->

Masc Beabato.

Two men, five feet apart over a chess game (murder mystery), so very gay for each other with one of them in denial.

Hint: It wouldn’t be Beato.

Battler’s gay panic would be vicious. It is living, breathing, thriving form of pining made into a mobile creature with claws and teeth to gouge a space in his chest for Beato to sit, for all that he tries to build an iron gate to keep him out.

Beato, being dangerously Beato, would not help matters. At all. In the slightest. The entire goal of the game board is to get Battler to see and understand his heart -> and Beato is a witch (sorcerer in this case). He doesn’t have to conform to homophobia (though he’d still feel it, because trauma doesn’t just leave), he doesn’t have to care about ‘human’ ideals of men loving men being wrong - so he can slyly flirt and make subtle advances towards Battler.

Battler, being Battler, would probably assume it’s a trick - and it isn’t, but he wouldn’t know that at the time.

(And man, now that makes me think of Genderbent cousins, but only the cousins - George, Battler, Jessie, Maria, Ange - are Genderbent. Male! Jessica and Kanon, Shannon and Fem! George. The potential of Beato handing them the golden butterfly for magical blessing takes on brand new meaning-)

I wish I could go into this super deep exposition on the dynamics of masc Beabato, but I’m honestly not super good at understanding Beato’s character - and I want to do Beato right, now matter how she is portrayed in various AU’s in my head. She is more feeling, that rational thought behind what leads to that feeling for me, if that makes sense?

But these two. Just. THESE TWO.