#charcoal painted island
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U-Shape Vancouver Inspiration for a mid-sized transitional wet bar remodel with a beige floor and u-shaped porcelain tile, as well as an undermount sink, quartz countertops, recessed-panel cabinets, and white cabinets with a gray backsplash.
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🔴 Sold, thank you
St Kilda, Scotland. The UK's only dual UNESCO World Heritage Site. Home to nearly 1 million seabirds, including the UK's largest colony of Atlantic puffins.
My drawing is available…
https://theweeowlstudio.etsy.com/listing/1597349998
or you can search for 'TheWeeOwlStudio' on Etsy.
#Scotland#St Kilda#Scottish Islands#Drawing#charcoal#Charcoal Drawing#artwork#Scottish Artist#Made In Scotland#Landscape#Landscape Painting#Gift Ideas#New Year#etsy#art
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2023 / Vancouver Island
micro/macro-chasms/cosms (reaction/response + chaotic order & some arrangements of things)
The thing is, each isolated tide pool holds it��s own spacetime-zone depending on the daily/yearly tide changes and shifting of the plates. Neap tide proved to be the most active - or at least visible to me in late summer. It's when the sun and moon are briefly at right angles from each other. The atomic clocks within these individual creatures is probably fast and fleeting, their umwelt perhaps driven by adaptation, which is not intentional, it just is.
WIPs
"Past-light Cone painting x3" oil on canvas
+ "Trace Matrix drawings x2" charcoal on paper rolls
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LoTF Character Appearance Chart:
I think there used to be one of these, but the person left Tumblr. My copy is the Penguin Great Books copy (teal cover), so it might be different from yours. Bear with me.
Ralph: Fair hair (p. 1), Grey shirt (p. 1), 12 years old and a few months (p. 4), wide and heavy shoulders like a boxer (p. 4), mild mouth and eyes (p. 4), biggest on the island (p 15), Ralph started with hair at half an inch (p 96), bites his nails to the quick (p 96), His mother is dead as he claims mummy was still with them (p 99)
Jack: Tall, thin and bony (p. 13), red hair beneath his choir cap (p 13), face crumpled and freckled and ugly without silliness (p 13), light blue eyes (p 13), biggest choir boy (p. 14), freckled (p 15), sandy long hair (p 39), sunburnt (p 39), tall (p 57)
Simon: skinny and vivd (p 16), straight black coarse hair (p 16), smaller than Ralph and Jack (p 17), small (p 46), darkish in color and tanned deeply (p 46)
Piggy: Wind-Breaker (p. 1), Shorter than Ralph and "Fat" (p. 1), Thick glasses (p. 1), Pale (p. 6), tans to golden brown (p 54), wispy hair as though baldness was his natural state (p 54), different accent than the others (p 54)
Roger: slight, furtive boy (p. 14), dark boy (p 15), doesn't darken by tanning (p 50), black hair down to his nape (p 50), swarthy skin (p 52)
Johnny: Six years old (p. 11), Sturdy and fair (p. 11), well-built with fair hair (p 50), china blue eyes (p 50)
Maurice: second largest choir boy (p 14), broad and grinning all the time (p 14)
Samneric: Bullet-headed with "hair like tow" (p. 12), not enough skin when they smile (p. 12), unsuspected intelligence (p 31), unable to do things apart (p 84)
Mulberry Boy: about six years old and a shrimp (p 27), mulberry colored birthmark on one side of his face (p 27)
Henry: Biggest littlun and distantly related to the mulberry boy (p 49)
Percival: Mouse-colored and not very attractive (p 50)
Phil: Self confident littlun (p 73)
Littluns: A dark little boy (p. 11), Uniforms colored grey, blue, fawn (p. 11), Hair in brown, fair, black, chestnut, sandy, mouse-colored (p. 12)
Extra Information: Simon Robert and Maurice are in a grey area between littlun and biggun (p. 49), Jack's original paint is one cheek and eye socket white red on the other half of his face and charcoal from right ear to left jaw (p 51), Maurice Simon Piggy and Ralph were not present for the first pig killed (p 56), Jack and Ralph both think Africa is a country (p 71), Bill slaps Johnny to get him to stop crying (p 88), Robert laughs at Simon when he bashes into a tree (p 91), Simon predicts his own death (p 98), they bit Simon as he died. They cannibalized him (p 136)
#this seemed useful to me and others#lord of the flies#lotf#.lucky.#lotf characters#lotf ralph#lotf jack#lotf roger#lotf appearances#lotf piggy#lotf simon#tw spoilers
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God Complex (NSFW)
"I'm gonna be where you are, doesn't matter how far because we are meant to be"
i just knew how i wanted this fic to go after listening to this song. thank you @vangowithit for the pointers <3
Trafalgar Law x afab!reader
mentions of alcohol, witchcraft, obsession, cnc, oral, unprotected sex, creampie, reader has become infatuated with Law and puts a spell on him to make him feel the same way.
masterlist here
word count: 1,402
The lights were dim in your room. Only lit by the faint flame atop a candle placed ever so carefully on your altar, flickering with every breath you took. The cut out pictures and wanted posters scattered on the wall, all of him. You waited patiently, you had completed the spell a few days ago and were sure it had worked. You fiddled with the rose quarts anxiously. You had to have him. You had grown obsessive over this pirate that you had never met. Muffled chatter outside of your house grew louder, people clamoring that a pirate ship had docked nearby. No, not a pirate ship. A pirate sub. He was here.
Trafalgar Law was here.
You dressed yourself in red, tantalizing red. You sprayed yourself with perfume and made your way outside. You walked towards the dock. The sky was painted a dark shade of charcoal blue, only illuminated by the bright moon inhabiting the sky. As you got closer to the dock, the breeze dropped in temperature. You saw it. The Polar Tang. Excitement bottled up inside you. All of your hard work had paid off and you were about to reap the benefits. You stood nearby, simply waiting to make contact with the target of your desire. You watched as the Polar Tang moved with the waves, just as a figure emerged from inside. A man standing at 6’3, you knew it exactly. You locked eyes with him for a brief moment before darting away into a tavern nearby. You knew he would follow.
And he did.
You took a seat by the bar and shortly after, so did he. “Can I buy you a drink?” Law asked. You smiled at him and nodded yes. You scanned him, taking in every detail as he ordered for the both of you. He was perfect. His black hair peeking out from under his hat framed his face beautifully. His tall and slender physique with his muscles subtly outlined by his fitted clothes. His hands. His tattooed hands, you wondered how they would feel wrapped around you. Touching every part of you.
He handed you a drink, looking into your eyes with intrigue. “I’m Traf-” “Trafalgar Law. I know. You’re pretty famous.” You winked at him causing him to chuckle. “I guess so.” There was a small pause before he spoke again. “Sorry if this is forward but, my crew and I just got here and I’d rather not stay in the ship. Would you mind if I stay with you?” His voice dropped low, leaning in to whisper the last part in your ear. Immediately feeling your arousal pool under you. You smirked at him. “You can stay with me.” You took a sip of your drink, the strong liquor coating your tastebuds. You placed the glass back on the bar before getting up and taking Law’s hand.
You guided him to your house. His hand was bigger than yours. Rough and warm. You traced his tattoos with your thumb, earning a soft laugh. It was music to your ears. As you arrived, you turned around to face him. A short moment of silence as you looked into his eyes quickly turned into a thick tension. Your breathing had become heavy as he leaned closer to you. The anticipation of feeling his lips on yours was killing you but you savored the moments leading up to it. His lips crashed onto yours, kissing you hungrily. Waiting no time to push his tongue inside your mouth, massaging your own. A moan threatened to escape your throat as he placed his hands on your lower back, pulling you closer to him.
He was drawn to you. From the moment he docked on your island. He felt like the island had been calling out to him. He didn’t know what it was about you that made you so irresistible. But you knew. You knew it well. You stumbled back to the door. He pushed against you, looking for the doorknob behind you. Once opened, you tripped back prompting Law to tighten his grip to keep you from falling. He slammed the door shut behind him, breaking away for a moment. The two of you panting for air, caught in the moment. “Where is your room?” His question sounded more like a demand. You wasted no time, taking his hand and leading him once more.
Law didn’t see the altar nearby. He didn’t notice it, being blinded by the lust he felt. Once in your room he wasted no time to throw you onto your bed. He took off the shirt he was wearing, revealing his tattoos that contrasted with his tan skin. You needed him. You didn’t want to wait much longer. You pulled on his pants, taking them off yourself. Seeing the outline of his hardened cock below his boxers. You salivated, thinking of all the pleasure you would finally be bringing him. You wanted him to cum because of you, all for you.
You traced your hands down his abs, feeling him tense up the closer you got to his weeping erection. Law sucked in a breath as you grazed him, teasing him a little before taking the only barrier between your mouth and his bare body off of him.
You took him in your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks to accommodate him. You started off slow, wanting him to reach out and grab a fistful of your hair. “Fuck that feels good.” He groaned in pleasure. He began thrusting into your mouth, his cock hitting the back of your throat as tears formed in your eyes. You watched as Law unraveled in front of you. You wanted to make him cum like this, but he had different plans. Law pulled out your mouth, a string of saliva still connecting you to him. “Get on your back.” He growled. You obliged, lifting up your bottoms to allow him a full view of your arousal dampening your lingerie underneath. He pulled it to the side, giving your pussy a long lick. You moaned loudly, a flash of pleasure washing over you.
Law licked your clit, using his tongue to trace circles over it. You reached over, knocking the hat off his head to grab onto his hair. He dipped his tongue into you, earning more sounds of pleasure from you. His hands firmly gripping your thighs as you writhed under him, reaching a climax. You looked down at him, watching him eat you out as if he was a starving man. You lost yourself in ecstasy as you rode out your high on his face. He smiled, licking his lips in satisfaction. You pulled him onto you, his body pressing yours down into the mattress.
“I want you inside of me.” You whispered in his ear. Law moaned at your request, feeling his cock throb in anticipation of feeling you wrap around him. He positioned himself at your entrance, pushing his head in agonizingly slow. He hissed through his teeth as he squeezed into you. You swallowed him up, gasping as you felt him enter you completely. He thrust into you, keeping a steady pace. You wrapped your legs around him, feeling Law’s hand grip onto your thigh. He buried his head in your neck, moaning into your ear as his pleasure built. You ran your nails down his back, feeling yourself get close to a second orgasm.
“You feel so fucking good” Law twitched within you. You closed your eyes, unable to hold back. “Cum in me please.” You moaned loudly as you came undone under him. His cock shooting his hot cum into you as your walls tightened around him. He thrust a couple more times, coming down from his high.
He pulled out of you, feeling his cum leaking out of you. Law collapsed on your side, catching his breath. He chuckled softly, a breathy “fuck” slipping from his lips. You turned to face him, placing a gentle kiss on his lips. “If that’s how my stay here is gonna go, I’m not sure I’d ever wanna leave” Law laughed. You giggled in response, biting your lip. This was everything you wanted, and more. You got up, looking back at Law on your bed. “Care to join me in the shower?” You asked. He chuckled in disbelief before sitting up. “You’re trouble.” He teased, following you into the bathroom.
#one piece#one piece fic#x reader#one piece smut#trafalgar one piece#trafalgar law x reader#trafalgar d law x reader#trafalgar law#trafalgar law smut
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Stephan Jenkins, singer from the band 3rd Eye Blind, is selling his 1880 Victorian in San Francisco, California. The 4bd, 2.5ba home has been completely renovated to combine vintage & modern. He's asking $3.6M. What do you think?
On the front stoop, there's a square of original tiles.
So. The entrance hall is painted shades of gray, including the wood, except for the railing. It looks like the original floor is still there, but it's stained much darker.
The front sitting room is immediately off the hall.
The less formal sitting room is more of a family/TV room and has an original fireplace that was refurbished.
The dining room is an example of mixing old with new. The wall has a faux patina decorated with old prints & mirrors. Classic draperies and a vintage carpet complete the look while a very modern table adds contrast.
The kitchen, however, is ultra modern. There's no standard cabinetry, just a long sink, charcoal gray island, some low shelving and a wood unit that houses the ovens.
There's a seating area in the kitchen with a wall that opens to the deck.
This is what it looks like from outside.
Back in the hallway there's a little sitting nook under the stairs.
The guest powder room is pretty.
A short pass-thru to the primary bedroom has a large built-in closet unit and a floating dresser. The window bump-out has a door to a small terrace.
Love this vintage bath.
Nice sunny room that is kind of a multi-purpose room with a lovely fireplace.
No other bedrooms are being used as such. This one looks like a TV room with a guest day bed. The niche is a nice feature.
This bath is an old/new combo.
The rooms up here aren't very big and this is a very tiny space.
A raised deck takes up most of the small yard.
There's also a sauna and a tub/shower. 2,875 sq. ft. lot.
https://www.realtor.com/realestateandhomes-detail/76-Liberty-St_San-Francisco_CA_94110_M18785-06815
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Forest Portrait Mask
Talon George
from the website: This Portrait Mask is hand-carved and signed by Kwakwaka'wakw artist Talon George from the Gwa’sala and ‘Nakwaxda’xw First Nations in Port Hardy on Vancouver Island. The mask has been carved from red cedar and painted in red, green, brown, and black acrylic. Charcoal has been added to the surface to give a distressed finish. The mask is then finished with cedar bark trim and 2 onlays of textured copper.
While carving this portrait mask, Talon was reflecting on his connection to the forest, his source of peace. This mask is, in a way, a portrait of the forest itself. He added the colours of the forest - green, brown, and black - to reflect this connection, as well as the cedar bark. A textured finish was added to the copper eyes, inspired by the flowing lines of a river.
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1.5k, charcoal artist!dabi (again I’m so sorry), mentions of alcohol, dabi and reader are awkward, idk what this is but I kept it under 2k and that is a win for me
It’s been two weeks.
You haven’t seen him by your tree since then, but you haven’t taken him up on his offer and showed up at his place. You transferred the address from the pen on your skin to a scrap piece of paper and hung in on your fridge before you could lose it forever after washing your hands.
It would be weird to show up without calling, only you can’t call him because you don’t have his number. You don’t have classes in the same building, and you think it would be even weirder to walk around the art department to find him instead of just knocking on his door, like he asked you to.
So, you do end up at his front door, double checking the address with the numbers outside, because Dabi seems to live in some kind of warehouse, and you would assume he wrote down the wrong address if it didn’t make complete sense in your mind that he lived here. You decided on a Friday night, because you assumed a guy like him would be out, and the thought of him answering his door right now is mortifying.
But he does answer it, and his hair is sticking out in different directions even worse than before, and he’s yawning into his fist, and you’re realizing you’ve just woke him up.
It stuns him a little, to see you. You’re cute all bundled up from the chilly night out, chin tucked into your scarf as you let your eyes fall over his form.
“I didn’t think you’d come.” He tells you, leaning against his door frame, voice heavy with sleep. “Figured you thought it was weird that I gave you my address.”
“It was weird.” You nodded, shivering a bit from the cold. “Can I come in?”
He opens the door wider and lets you through. It’s mostly dark inside, one lamp in a far corner illuminating just a little bit of the room. He mutters a sorry as he passes by you, turning on lights overhead, half of the lightbulbs needing to be changed and not helping to illuminate the place much at all.
“It’s usually brighter during the day.” He shrugs, turning back towards you. “The windows.”
He gestures behind him and you notice the large panels of glass against both walls. It must be nice in the day, all of the natural light, especially for an artist.
You continue to look around. It’s mostly one giant room with ceilings as tall as the sky. There’s a small kitchen on the right side of the place, art that you assume isn’t his hung on the refrigerator, handmade mugs hanging on a rack by the sink, boxes of sugary cereal on the wooden island you think maybe he or someone else built.
There’s a bathtub to the left, just out in the middle of everything. It’s strange, and completely out of place, but looking at it gives you some sort of weird vision of the future in your mind. Reading in it, leaning back against Dabi and falling asleep, him peering over the edge and kissing you goodbye. A fond smile crosses your face.
Easels, and standing desks, and giant canvases full of abstract paint fill the rest of the room. A tarp on the floor in the middle of everything is covered with charcoal and red paint, pages and pages of unfinished sketches. Paperbacks lay on tables, stacked up against walls, three on his bedside table, all with bookmarks inside, unfinished.
“It’s a mess, I know.” He shrugs. “I kept it nice for a while, you know, in case you came, but then I kind of figured you never would. But you did.”
There’s something guarded about him this time, less open than he was when you met him on the grass. You can understand it. After all, you’re intruding. He was asleep. You should go home.
“Maybe I should go home. It’s probably a bad time. It’s late, and—” You feel his hand wrap around your wrist, stoping your nervous ramble.
“Stay. Please, I want you to stay.” He tells you, and you can see that bit of vulnerability shine through, a little bit in his eyes. You nod, unable to look away from him. “You want something to drink?”
You don’t trust your voice, so all you do is nod, and when Dabi disappears into his tiny kitchen, you walk further into the room, entranced by his art. You wish you knew more about it, then, that you had something to compare it to, though you think maybe there’s nothing like what he does.
He brings back a bottle of beer, and you take a long gulp because you suddenly feel hot alone with Dabi in his space. He chuckles under his breath and tugs on your arm.
“You wanna take this off?” He asks you, tugging on your scarf. You hand him your beer and take your scarf and coat off, letting him take them from you and laying them across his bed. He walks to one of the desks in the room, pulling the spiral sketchbook from the day before and a portfolio with handles from behind the desk. He hands you the book and drops the portfolio heavy on the floor.
“Here.” He tells you, rubbing his palms on the sides of his pants out of what you think is nerves. “It’s obviously not everything, but you can start here, I guess. Or stop there, too. If you get sick of it.”
You say nothing, but you move to sit on the floor, opening the spiral sketchbook. It’s not all pretty or refined or finished. It’s a hand and an eye and the face of a friend and a tree and a body of water. It’s all scribbled and jagged, and there’s bits that are smooth, smudged over and shaded in a way that makes you feel like if you touched it, it would feel like skin. There’s splotches of red and yellow, blues and greens, a random water color on one page, ink on the next.
And when you get close to the end, it’s all you.
It’s not much, but it’s more than you expected. There’s no more mistakes here, nothing unfinished or crossed out or scribbled over. He’s careful about it. You’re speechless.
You pull the portfolio into your lap and open the flap. Pages of all varying sizes and textures are stuffed inside. These pieces are much more refined. He’s worked on them for longer, maybe for a class. He has an unbelievable eye for the human body, how it bends and folds. You hate to think about how these are hidden away behind his desk. You’d put them up around the city, and on bulletin boards in cafe’s, and over every inch of your walls in your own apartment.
It makes you feel a little bit emotional, here on his floor with his soul in your hands. There’s this urge you have, to hug him, to push his hair from his eyes, to kiss his hands. You hold one page in between your fingers, the torso of a man and his arms around a woman, her head lying back against his chest. You stand up, and you look at him with your watery eyes, and you turn to walk away.
You swing a leg over the weird, out in the open bath tub, and settle down inside, looking down at the piece you took. Dabi’s footsteps are slow as he approaches you, crouches down next to the tub and rests his forearms on it.
“You can have that one.” He says, resting his chin against his arm. “Or any of them. Tell me, and it’s yours.”
You don’t know how to tell him you want it all. Selfishly, you’d take every single piece if he gave them to you.
You look at him, thumbing the corner of the page, yours now. You keep opening and closing your mouth like you want to speak. You want to tell him thank you, and you probably should if he’s really letting you keep it, but it’s more than that. Thank you for letting me see you. I have nothing like this that can show you the inside of my soul, but you can reach through my ribs if you want to.
His hand comes up to rest behind your head, the brush of his thumb against your neck, tender. You lean into it and close your eyes. When you open them, he’s much closer now, so close that leaning forward makes you bump noses. He smiles.
“Will you stay?” It’s not a question of just to night, but forever, you think. Or at least that’s how it feels to you. You nod.
“God, yes.” You answer, like you’ve been waiting for him to ask, like you’re whole life has led up to this moment in this empty bathtub. He brushes his lips against yours like he’s asking permission. You give him the slightest nod.
He kisses you.
#dabi x reader#bnha x reader#posting this at a weird time I just want it GONE!!!!!#I think I hate it sort of idk anywayssss#ghost.writes#ghost.drabble#ALSO NOT EDITED SORRY OMG
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And just like that… I got another one. Okay, so this one isn’t nearly as long or as complete as the last one, but I had the day off today and just… went for it. It could be good, it could be crap. But it’s here! @fernstarsblog And honestly I just felt like doing something… nicer today. It’s not nearly as tense or harsh as the last one. Hope you enjoy it byyyyyyye
T/W: Era appropriate sexism, mentions of domestic abuse and drug use
Primum Peccatum Ch. 10: Are You Ready For A Miracle?
Pomni and Jax returned to Primum Peccatum around 10:20 at night. Full dark had fallen by then, and the ferry had to maneuver carefully by spotlight through the inky black saltwater of the reach. Once they arrived on the island, Jax took one of the communal lanterns from the post office’s storage containers, lit it and handed it to Pomni, who led the way home. Moths tapped futilely at the hot glass, and mosquitos descended on the two of them. The citronella oil in the lantern kept many of them at bay, but a few alighted on them to drink, only to be crushed into charcoal black smudges. Insects chirred and frogs sang, but it was otherwise a silent trek home.
Even in almost total darkness, Pomni knew the path. She could do it blindfolded, having lived on the island for two and a half decades. The edge of The Rooker estate’s sterile garden came into view, and Jax turned to look at Pomni. His eyes were shaded in the bubble of light created by the lantern, painting his already dour expression in shadow.
“My sincerest apologies for my family’s behavior tonight. If my father sends another letter to you, I’ll read it for you. If it isn’t anything worth reading, I’ll be rid of it.”
Pomni shook her head. “I’m the one at fault. I failed to adhere to our plan to keep quiet and let the night play out. I owe you and your brothers an apology. …I’m ashamed of myself.”
Jax managed a smile. In the dark, his Cheshire grin looked quite ominous.
“You needn’t be. How can you be expected to not react when all of this, the wedding, my family, was dropped on you so suddenly? I’m… impressed at how you stood up to my father,” Jax looked off into the dark. “Goodness knows I don’t have the backbone.”
Pomni looked at him for a long while. “I believe you do. But I’d rather not bandy with you at the moment… I’m quite tired.”
“As am I,” Jax concurred.
Pomni led him down then overgrown cobblestone walk to Kinger’s front stoop. Jax unlocked the door.
“Mr. Krolik?” Pomni asked before the rabbit could open the door. She kept her eyes on her shoes. “…Please go straight to bed. You needn’t sedate yourself. There’s no sense in making yourself sick when you’ve already been ill once tonight.”
Jax smiled again. It did not reach his eyes.
“I’ll try,” he said.
Even Pomni, who had her difficulties with reading people, could tell that was a bald-faced lie. However, she found her rebuttal caught in her throat when Jax reached down to gingerly pick up her left hand. He removed his sweat-addled gloves and tucked them into his breast pocket, so his paw was relatively dry. He closed his eyes and bent down slightly, placing a gentle kiss on the back of her hand, just beside her ring.
“Good night, Pomni,” he said, opening the door to The Rooker Estate.
“…Good night, Jax.” Pomni replied, just before the door closed in its entirety.
Pomni was left standing on the stoop, the lantern and her cheeks smoldering. She stood and thought for a good half minute before she turned and journeyed home.
—
As soon as the next morning’s birds began twittering, and dim, gray dawnlight filtered through her curtains, Pomni rolled out of bed. She dressed herself in a plain, Robin’s egg blue dress. She hadn’t slept particularly well, and a need for rest laid heavily on her eyelids, but she sought guidance that morning. She took a moment to brush her teeth and comb her slightly oily hair, splashing some cold water on her face to help keep awake.
She pulled on her stockings and crept downstairs to avoid rousing her parents. She slid her feet into her pumps, tapping the toe of each on the floor to fit it correctly, and went to find Zooble.
“Up early again, Ms. Shutnyk,” they said. They hadn’t begun making Pomni’s parents breakfast for the day, instead enjoying their own light meal, toast with strawberry preserves and a dusting of sand with plain red tea, at the dining room table.
“Good morning, Zooble,” Pomni said.
“How went your meeting with the in-laws?” they asked, blowing on their tea and taking a sip. Zooble had been the only person Pomni told about the meeting, naturally.
“It went…” Pomni thought for a moment. “Dreadfully. Simply dreadfully. Drexl Krolik is an ogre.”
Zooble let out what might have been a faint laugh. “He did come off as rather severe, didn’t he?” They took a bite of their toast, holding it over the plate so any loose crumbs or grains fell safely back onto it.
“He left in the middle of dinner to beat two of Jax’s brothers,” Pomni continued. “I asked the eldest brother to excuse us as head of the house, and he did. So, doubtlessly, I’ll be receiving a letter demanding my return.”
Zooble swallowed their food, having another sip of tea to wash the sand out of their invisible mouth.
“I’ll keep your secrets, but when your parents discover them, and they will, I will be very, very disappointed in you.” they said.
Pomni smiled. “Of course. You don’t deserve to lose your position because of me. And my parents…”
“Can go walk off the pier, as far as you're concerned?” Zooble finished.
“That’s significantly more mild than what I was envisioning. But yes.” Pomni said with another smile.
“I imagine that you and I share similar sentiments about your parents’ decision-making prowess.” Zooble replied.
Pomni giggled. “Indubitably. I should be going now. If you receive a letter from Drexl Krolik-”
“Then you will be the first to read it,” Zooble finished. “Honestly, what kind of third-rate caretaker do you think I am?”
Pomni nodded. “Of course. My apologies for interrupting your breakfast.”
As she made to leave, Zooble spoke up. “Please be back at a reasonable hour. Your mother has hired a tailor to measure you for your wedding dress. You know she’ll be upturning the entire island to find you.”
Pomni sighed. “Very well. Thank you as always, Zooble.”
“They really should pay me more, shouldn’t they?” Zooble replied without looking up from their tea.
Pomni exited the estate with her purse. She picked up the communal lantern from the stoop, planning on returning it to the post office and then heading to The Gray Church. It was a cloudy morning, the sky a billowy gray and white. There was a very slight chill in the air, the final hurrah of springtime before summer arrived in full. Pomni closed her eyes and enjoyed the soothing ambience. She was still quite tired, her eyes remaining lidded for almost a full minute before reluctantly opening again. She hoped this dress business wasn’t an all day affair, her mother could take so long on tasks that should have taken an hour or two at most.
She sighed, turning and walking towards the post office.
—
Pomni glanced around the confession booth. She had never been inside it before, and she wasn’t quite sure what to expect. It was nothing but a gray room, about the size of an outdoor privy, with a pull string for the bell, an old and somewhat moth-eaten cushion to sit on, and a screened window into the priest or priestess’s chamber. She swallowed, sitting on the cushion, and rang the bell.
She waited a moment. Another moment. Several moments more. She thought about leaving, and she thought about ringing the bell again. Ragatha always told her that it greatly irritated her when a confessor repeatedly rang the bell, so she thought better of it. Sure enough, she soon heard footsteps from within the sanctuary, the door to the confessional booth open, and a person take their seat just by the window.
“Good morning, my child. Tell me what ails you,” came Ragatha’s motherly voice from the other side of the booth. Anyone would feel more at ease if a voice that warm told them everything was going to be alright.
“Sister, I have doubts and seek guidance,” Pomni said.
“Of course, you may begin when you are ready,” Ragatha said.
“Well… you see, my… friend is to be married to a man she barely knows. And she was opposed to the idea at first, naturally, but now-”
“Pomni?” Ragatha asked in her regular voice.
Blazes.
“Er… but-but now she-”
“Pomni, that is you! What are you doing in the confessional?”
Pomni sighed again. “I was… hoping to get some advice anonymously.”
Ragatha scoffed. “Darling, you have nothing to be ashamed of. Come inside, I’ve just made tea.”
Ragatha then rose to her feet and exited the confessional, chuckling to herself. Pomni bit at her thumbnail, but obliged, entering the church anyway. She took the stairs down into the rectory, where Ragatha and Gangle sat around the table.
“Ms. Shutnyk! It’s so nice to see you again!” Gangle said with a wave.
“Good morning, Ms. Gangle,” Pomni said, waving back shyly.
Ragatha smoothed out her habit, keeping her hood down as she normally did around guests. It appeared as though she had just gotten dressed, as she had to pause a moment to roll up her sleeves.
“So, something so serious has happened, you felt the urge to confess anonymously? For the first time as long as I’ve known you? Goodness, what could have happened?” Ragatha said with a small smile.
“It isn’t anything wrong that I’ve done… It’s merely something… embarrassing.” Pomni said. She sat in her usual chair and picked up her cup.
“Embarrassing?” Ragatha asked.
“Yes, embarrassing. I am to be married soon, as you both know…” Pomni began.
“I seem to recall you were somewhat upset about that.” Gangle jested. Ragatha fought a smile and gently nudged her.
“But… things have changed. I believe…” Pomni took a deep breath and stared down at her teacup. “I believe I have caught feelings for him.”
Ragatha and Gangle were both silent with anticipation.
“But..?” Ragatha coaxed.
“…But nothing. I… I fear I’ve caught feelings for him.” Pomni said. She looked at them both with a dire expression.
Ragatha and Gangle looked at each other, then back to Pomni.
“That’s what is upsetting you so?” Ragatha asked incredulously.
“Ms. Shutnyk, that’s wonderful! Congratulations!” Gangle chirped, clasping her ribbons together.
“You had me so worried, darling, good heavens…” Ragatha fanned herself, slumping over with relief.
“N-No!” Pomni shouted, making Gangle jump. “It’s not wonderful! They’ve won, don’t you understand? They’ve finally forced me to gain feelings for a stranger!”
Ragatha sat up straighter. “Forced you? Little sister, no one forced you.”
“But they have! They-” Pomni began, but Ragatha gently interrupted her by grasping one of her hands.
“Pomni Shutnyk. I’ve known you for seven years, and there is one thing I can tell you with absolute certainty. If you don’t want to do something, I don’t think anyone short of The Allfather could make you. If anybody, and I mean anybody told you to love Jax Krolik when you didn’t actually love him, there would be no further discussion. You wouldn’t.”
Pomni frowned and sipped her tea with her free hand. She looked down at her feet. “I don’t follow.”
Ragatha smiled and leaned forward. “I’m saying, Pomni, that your feelings are real, not manipulated. You are not the kind to be manipulated. I think you feel this way about Mr. Krolik because you are genuinely fond of Mr. Krolik. And that’s wonderful! You found a kindred spirit!”
Pomni gripped her cup a bit tighter. “But… It’s manufactured. I didn’t meet Jax on my own, I was forced to! I wanted to pursue my own dream, not my parents’ dream!”
“Who says you can’t pursue a dream, Ms. Shutnyk?” Gangle piped up.
Pomni shook her head in frustration. “Everyone! The entire broken, idiotic ideology that this country is built on! I wanted to take over my father’s firm, but I cannot because-”
Ragatha held up the hand she was using to hold Pomni’s. “Peace for a moment, dear. Do you still want to inherit your father’s business?”
“No! Never, not after he betrayed me like he did!” Pomni declared.
“So… what is your dream now?” Ragatha asked with a tilt of her head. Her curls bounced.
“I…”
Pomni froze.
“I… I don’t know.”
Ragatha rested three fingers on her chin and looked up, deep in thought. “Perhaps that is something you should contemplate for the future. This is my advice. I believe you should find what brings you the most joy. But even if you aren’t sure what that is now, answer me this question: Who do you see at your side in the future? Are you alone?”
“I don’t know…” Pomni said again.
“Oh, but I think you do, Ms. Shutnyk. I think you do know.” Gangle said with a smile.
Pomni covered her face and whined. Ragatha stood up from her chair and embraced the smaller woman.
“It’s perfectly fine to have feelings, darling. You’re not gullible or weak for it. This is a good outcome to an incredibly untoward scenario.”
Pomni embraced Ragatha right back. “I’m… I don’t want to be a housewife…”
“Then don’t be. Be with the one you love, and do what you wish to do. That’s what I’ve done.”
Ragatha smiled and put a hand over Gangle’s ribbon as the shapewoman placed it on her shoulder. Gangle rested her cheek on Ragatha’s head with a smile.
“…I didn’t say I loved him.” Pomni said after a moment. “It’s only been a week. I just… I… I’m not as opposed to… courtship as I used to be…”
“Oh, bless your heart, darling.” Ragatha waved a hand and giggled. Gangle began to laugh, and Pomni joined in. Soon, they were all laughing together.
Pomni left the church, her spirits brightened somewhat. Ragatha’s guidance revealed something not quite expected, but it was… something good. She still detested the whole wedding rigamarole, and how her parents thought of her as a commodity, and her soon to be father-in-law’s compassion-free, ink-black soul, and how society treated her just because of her sex… But. She had grown an interest in the man she was to marry. A real interest. And that was something to treasure.
#the amazing digital circus#tadc arranged marriage au#funnybunny#jax x pomni#tadc jax#tadc pomni#tadc zooble#tadc ragatha#tadc gangle#oh no cringe#tadc#tw mentions of abuse#tw drugs
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Dean Cornwell (1892-1960) “Heating the Crankshaft” study for General Motors Waldorf Exhibition, 1940
Searching for images for this mural found few but luckily two of the same image, charcoal and paint. These are the gems I search for.
Source, source
Here are the only two others
Source, source
As well as a view of a portion of the mural.
“From the back of the photo: "Featured in the General Motors exhibit at the San Francisco Fair, on Treasure Island in 1939, are the murals "Strength and Safety," designed by Dean Cornwell, N.A., and executed by George Davidson, A.N.A., and Carlo Ciampagliia, A.N.A. Done in full color on canvas, they were in the exhibit of the Fisher Body Division. The murals were characterized by experts as among the finest artistic endeavors to be seen at the fair, ranking with other important works of Cornwell, one of America's foremost artists. In the above photo, Cornwell (seated) is shown with Ciampaglia, as the murals neared completion in the artist's studio.” Source
Fascinating process. Carlo Ciampagliia does the work, under supervision. The prelims above are what Ciampagliia works from.
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"Eddie Redmayne And Hannah Bagshawe Wore Matching Steve O Smith Looks To The Met Gala".
BY ALEX KESSLER
7 May 2024
Each year, the Met Gala brings together luminaries from the worlds of art, film and fashion, with attendees pushing boundaries in larger-than-life creations from major fashion houses – oftentimes with the creative directors of prestigious Milanese and Parisian houses attending alongside their A-list muses. However, the Met is also an opportune moment to spotlight emerging talents, and for this year’s Garden of Time-themed event, Eddie Redmayne and his wife, Hannah Bagshawe, entrusted London-based designer Steve O Smith with creating their looks. “I love line drawings, and particularly charcoal… those great artists who could create something extraordinary with so little – Matisse, Cy Twombly or the romance of Seurat charcoal drawings. Steve’s clothes merge fashion and art so uniquely and I adore that,” Redmayne told Vogue ahead of the event.
A Rhode Island School of Design graduate, Smith launched his label in 2017 upon returning to London from America to pursue an MA in fashion at Central Saint Martins, where he completed his studies in 2022. It was during his time at CSM that he developed his distinctive approach to garment design. “My work always starts with drawings on paper, which I then translate into garments,” he explains. “I try to preserve the feeling of the works on paper by approaching the construction of the garments with the same sense of gesture and expression, reframing pattern cutting, draping, sewing and appliqué as an extension of the drawing process itself.” Reflecting on dressing Redmayne and Bagshawe for the Met Gala, Smith enthuses, “They’ve been an absolute dream to work with… The JG Ballard story that inspired the theme this year is [actually] based on a couple, which made the looks much easier to conceptualise.”
What specifically inspired Smith’s designs for the momentous occasion? “When I first read The Garden of Time, I immediately started to make a connection between the flowers in the story and Cy Twombly’s Peony series. As well as being great visual references, the way those works were made, using action painting techniques and abstraction, felt like perfect ideas to relate to the themes of creation and destruction in the story,” the designer continues. “From there, I took a day to make drawings in diluted acrylic paint, graphite stick and pencil, over and over again until they started to feel like they had a sense of movement and emotion, and then went straight into making.”
For Redmayne’s look, Smith crafted a wool coat mounted on sheer silk organza using a technique he calls “relief appliqué”, in which the appliqué is cut away from the garment rather than added on. “The organza essentially acts as a lining which is strategically revealed, and a removable tulle skirt will also be attached inside the coat.” Completing his look is a matching pair of wool tailored trousers and a silk organza dickie underneath the coat with a drawing of a tie on it. “The mixture of classicism and whimsy is what Steve has created, and the clothes are beautiful, playful and easy to wear,” adds Redmayne, who accessorised with Grenson brogues and a black Omega De Ville watch.
As for Bagshawe? Smith opted to create a silk organza gown built over a tulle skirt and corset, with black silk crepe appliqué. “Because theorganza gown built over a tulle skirt and corset, with black silk crepe appliqué. “Because the organza is sheer, it allows you to see through to the layers of tulle underneath in a way that hopefully will create depth, that will then be contrasted by the opaque silk crepe on the outer layer,” he notes. “The inner corset of the dress is boned and reinforced for support, but we hand draped the silk crepe onto the bodice to imitate the texture of the overlapping brush strokes in the drawing.”
Stylist Harry Lambert is the mastermind behind Redmayne and Bagshawe’s collaboration with Smith for the Met. “This is the biggest fashion event of the year – these moments can start a brand, transform a designer’s future – so I could not be more thrilled that Steve is getting this opportunity,” says Lambert. “It’s time for everyone to start wearing Steve O Smith!”
📷 Jenny Anderson Photography.
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i started a supercorp portrait of a lady on fire au like three years ago. i'm never going to finish it, but the writing style is pretty cool, so i want to share it. so um enjoy the prologue and a bit of chapter one?
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Prologue. Bonnelles, France. 1786.
“First, my contours,” Kara said, her voice soft and level. She looked out upon the dozen or so young women, their eyes darting back and forth from their papers to Kara herself. “The outline,” she continued. The increasingly swift sound of scratching charcoal prompted Kara to further instruct, “Not too fast. Take time to look at me.” She paused. “See how my arms are placed.”
At that moment, Kara saw the painting.
She swallowed and took in a breath; she schooled her expression before letting out the air with a pathetically soft “My hands.” Her students’ gaze followed her verbal direction, now observing as Kara’s fingers curled with remembrance. Their own hands now began to sketch the slope of hers—the slope that had once coaxed breathy moans from a lover, the slope that had once created that very painting in all of its hollow longing.
Kara felt her heart rate accelerating, and her attempts at calming deep breaths only made her shoulders shake unsteadily. “Who brought that painting out?” Her eyes darted around, landing on each possible offender, as she tensed her core and adopted a stern countenance.
Every student dutifully turned to look at the work.
It was an especially young girl who finally lifted her hand. “I brought it. From the stock room. Should I have not?”
Kara’s “no” felt like a brick, its weight threatening to pry tears from her reddening eyes. So Kara took another swallow, a handful of blinks, a few more steadying breaths.
“Did you paint it?” the girl asked innocently. Nia, her name was? She stared at Kara, oblivious to the flood of sound overwhelming Kara’s mind and echoing in the cavern of her heart.
“Yes,” Kara uttered softly, the word barely audible as they fell from her lips. “A long time ago.”
Nia’s head snapped back to examine the painting once more. It stood on an old but sturdy easel, tattooed and scarred but still standing. The artwork itself was brooding, with a white sun bleeding into a dark vignette. Heavy clumps of clouds occupied the sky and caged some of the sun’s rays, so the fire burning behind the woman was bright enough in comparison to create a dragging shadow of her figure. The flames crawled up the back of her windswept dress, bringing sharp tension to an otherwise lulling, melancholy landscape.
“What’s the title?”
The sound of the sea began to swell in Kara’s head. Her lips trembled. Her body unwittingly swayed slightly. “Portrait of a Lady on Fire.”
---
Chapter I. The island of Brittany, France, and the surrounding sea. 1779.
Kara squinted into the distance, her face scrunching up a bit as she desperately tried to shield her eyes from the harsh glare of the sun on the water. For all its gorgeous teals and sparkling peaks, it certainly did make her wish for one of those brimmed hats the rowers were all wearing. With every one of their paced paddles, the cork-like little canoe bobbed haphazardly. Kara rather felt as if she were in the wine glass of a thoroughly drunken Marie Antoinette.
At least she wasn’t prone to seasickness.
She still felt quite unsteady, though, being thrown about and forced to pathetically grab onto the boat’s low walls. She leaned forward, trying to regain her balance and ground herself despite the absence of ground.
The wooden pallet holding her canvas was, apparently, as unstable as she was, and the next thing Kara knew, it had been lurched off of the boat like vomit from a drunkard. Kara watched helplessly as it thrashed among the choppy waves, the sea carrying it a few feet from the boat.
The chief rower met her desperate look with exhausted resignation; he ceased his paddling as Kara shed her overcoat and placed a precarious foot on the edge of the canoe.
With a strained creak from the boat’s wood, she jumped into the water, dress billowing behind her. Her first gasp for air upon emerging from the water was audible; she could feel the effort in her throat. Her arms moved in laborious little arcs as she slowly made her way towards the floating pallet and finally made a desperate reach for it. Kara’s fingers grasped onto a wooden board, and she pulled herself up onto it with a grunt.
---
The incessant wind upon the sea was certainly not helping Kara. Dripping wet, she wrapped herself up in her overcoat in a pitiful plea for warmth. She held the edges of the garment up to her lips, the sensation of the dry fabric bringing her some comfort as she closed her eyes and left herself to the mercy of the mighty sea.
But the interminable rocking of the feeble boat wouldn’t allow her any rest.
Kara wasn’t very religious, not anymore. Yet, the sight of the cliffs and coast of Brittany moved her to relieved prayer.
---
The sun had already begun to set as Kara trekked up the sandy coast. Her legs ached with every stumbling, unsure step—maybe she was a bit seasick after all—and her hands were tired of having to grip her full skirt to keep it out of her way.
She paused on the rocks, taking a moment to manually wring some of the water out of her skirt. She filled her lungs with an arduous breath before slinging the rope holding the pallet over her shoulder. Next came the fabric sling, which housed her trunk of personal items—she positioned it on her back with careful poise.
The journey up the cliffs and towards the trees was exhausting. Kara’s skirt required repositioning every few seconds, the rope was digging into her shoulder, and the pallet and trunk slammed into her back with each wobbling step. By the time she reached the straight path up to the residence, her breaths were heavy and pained, and the sun was nearly fully hidden beneath the horizon.
A soft light emanated from the windows above the mansion’s door, helping Kara feel a bit more secure as she knocked. A short blonde woman answered her summon and introduced herself with a flat “I’m Eve.” She opened the door a bit wider and gestured with her body for Kara to come in.
Eve held a small candle as she guided Kara up the stairs, the sounds of their shoes echoing through the grand yet starkly undecorated hallway. The walls of the stairwell were cement bricks, and the wrought iron bannister was rather plain and geometric.
They came to a stop in front of a similarly void room, bare save a few heavy curtains and a daybed. The raised panels along these walls matched the white-painted wood of the window frames, and they gave the chamber some elegant character.
While Eve entered the comparatively less intimidating room, Kara stayed back a moment, taking in the shafts of muted blue light from the windows and the contrasting warm glow of leaping flames from the central fireplace.
Eve crouched down to poke at the fire as Kara set down her belongings. “It was a reception room,” Eve explained. “Though I’ve never seen it used.”
The fire crackled pleasantly. “Have you been here long?” Kara inquired.
“Three years,” Eve answered, directing her attention back to the fire.
Kara peeled off her overcoat and draped it along the wainscoting. “Do you like it here?”
“Yes,” Eve said simply as she stood up. She turned to Kara, meeting her eyes now as her hands smoothed over her skirt. “I’ll let you get dry.” And with a nod, she was on her way.
Kara watched her every step.
Once the door closed, she hastily began removing her overskirt. It fell to the dark herringbone floor with an unglamorous thud.
---
There was no method or grace to the way Kara wrapped her hand around the rusting crowbar, but with a few jerks, she’d managed to successfully pry the top off of the pallet.
After setting down the wood cover, Kara extended her hand, letting it fall clumsily onto the slick canvas in front of her. It was still wet, and her hand’s small circular movement caused moisture to pool at her fingertips, as if her touch had beckoned the water. So her hand withdrew, and Kara slid the canvas out from its container. Her eyes danced over the surface as she considered how to dry it, holding it in front of herself like the Communion host of an evening Mass.
---
Kara decided to accompany her drying canvas, which was now positioned next to the fireplace. Stripped naked, she sat in front of the fire and pulled her legs towards herself—she was vulnerable, sitting there bare and in a new environment, and the action made her feel a bit more small, compact, and safe.
Kara set down her candle so she could light her tobacco pipe with the flames. Her large, smoky exhales grounded her, in a way, with the familiar sight and smell acting as a sort of sedative. And she stared forward, expression blank but unmistakably worn.
---
Kara walked barefoot along the cement floor, making her way through the hall and to the pantry room wrapped in nothing but her robe-like smock.
#again i have no intention of finishing so be forewarned etc#supergirl#supercorp poalof au#i have been feeling a bit weird going through my old work bc. i don't think i've really improved in the three years since starting this???#and i quite literally haven't written anything in 2023 other than like the 1000ish words to finish up this final chapter of tree of my song#&those thousand words genuinely feel worse than my old writing#because i'm out of practice i think#it's weird bc writing is something i think of as super important to me - like in less than a month i'll literally be at community college a#ain despite how bad my experience was last time with it bc i theoretically want to take classes that will make me a better writer#so like blah blah blah do i want to dedicate more of myself and my energy towards writing long term or do i just like the idea of being a#writer.#blah blah blah if i had to do a rose colored glasses on this all it would be. since january i have read 60something books and before this y#ar i hadnt been an avid reader in ages. and most of those books have been in the genre/niche i want to end up writing in#so i was learning writing by reading in that sense#hmm etc etc#i should probably stop taking myself and all of this so seriously lol idk#i'm theoretically back into writing and trying to prioritize it more again so (thumbs up emoji)
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Oh, is that DEVRAN SAHIN? I heard the THIRTY-SIX year old is COURAGEOUS. But don’t let that pretty face fool you, they are also EGOTISTICAL. Makes sense seeing how they are a LEADER in THE SOCIETY.
wc. pinterest.
Basics.
full name: Devran Fadel Sahin nickname(s): Dev age: Thirty-Six birthdate: July 26th star sign: Leo gender: Cismale pronouns: He/Him sexuality: Bisexual Birthplace: Staten Island, NY current residence: Staten Island, NY languages: Turkish, English, Spanish, and some French.
Reflection.
face claim: berk cankat hair color: chestnut brown eye color: light brown height: 6’0” build: lean, athletic build tattoos: a large compass on his right shoulder scars: too many to keep track of
Personality.
characteristics: ambitious, fearless, confident, arrogant, stubborn, creative, sweet talker, pretentious, self-absorbed, selfish, energetic, persistent, supportive, demanding, socially active, egoistic, responsible, the perfectionist, ready to take challenges, possessive fears: failure and decaf coffee passions/hobbies: painting, drawing, baseball, lock picking, origami, collecting and restoring vintage cars, kickboxing, feeding the birds in the park, golf, tennis, and target practice character inspo: tony stark (iron man), bruce wayne (the dark knight), jordan belfort (wolf of wall street), logan huntzberger (gilmore girls), lando calrissian (star wars) drugs/ alcohol/ smoking: yes / yes / no colors: a combination of classic neutrals, black, navy, charcoal, and rich jewel tones: emerald green, royal blue, and a deep burgundy.
Backstory.
Devran Şahin was born with the weight of a legacy on his shoulders. As the firstborn son of Ahmet Şahin, the infamous leader of the Society—a New York-based syndicate renowned for its mastery of art heists and elaborate thefts—Devran’s future was set in stone. From an early age, he was groomed to one day take the reins of his father’s empire. But being the heir to such an empire wasn’t simply a privilege; it was a burden.
The Golden Son
Growing up in the lap of luxury, Devran had everything that money could buy. He attended the finest schools and spent weekends cruising through exclusive parties with his charming smile, tousled hair, and a reputation as the ultimate trust-fund playboy. To the outside world, Devran was the golden child—charming, carefree, and always the center of attention at New York’s most elite gatherings. He was a man of paradoxes: polished and graceful by day, a reckless adventurer by night. Yet, beneath the surface of high society’s glittering veneer, Devran was being carefully shaped for a very different kind of future. His father, Ahmet, had a singular vision for his son. He was to inherit the Society, yes, but only if he proved worthy. There was no room for weakness, no space for indulgence. Devran’s upbringing wasn’t filled with soft lessons of privilege; instead, it was a strict training regimen that taught him the art of manipulation, the power of charm, and the precision needed to execute high-profile heists without leaving a trace. While his classmates were focused on getting into Ivy League schools, Devran was absorbing blueprints of art museums, studying security systems, mastering sleight-of-hand techniques, and learning how to read people like an open book. Every lesson was designed to sharpen his mind and prepare him for the world of shadows and deceit that ran beneath the glittering surface of New York.
There was a time, however, when Devran considered escaping the life his father had planned for him. He dreamt of running away with his lover, starting fresh somewhere far from the shadows of his family’s empire. But his father swiftly put an end to that idea—and the relationship—when he found out. "You will not embarrass this family," Ahmet had said, his voice seething with fury. That moment was a sharp reminder to Devran: no matter where his heart wandered, he was bound to the legacy of the Şahins.
A Mother’s Love and a Father’s Shadow Devran’s mother, Defne Şahin, was the heart of the family—a beacon of warmth in a world that often felt cold and calculating. Her love for art, culture, and humanity influenced Devran deeply. She shielded him from the harsh realities of their world as much as she could, nurturing his creative side and allowing him to dream of a life outside the shadows. Her sudden death during the COVID-19 pandemic shattered the delicate balance in Devran’s life. Losing her was like losing the light that guided him. For his father, Ahmet, Defne’s death marked a turning point. Grieving in silence, he poured his focus into preparing Devran for leadership. What had once been subtle grooming became a relentless campaign to shape his son into a worthy successor. Ahmet’s philosophy was simple: the Society’s leadership couldn’t be handed down—it had to be earned. And for Devran, this meant proving himself in ways that few could ever imagine.
The Test: A Rite of Passage
As Devran came of age, the weight of his family’s expectations grew unbearable. Ahmet had carefully crafted his son’s education, but now it was time for Devran to prove himself as more than just an heir. One of the leaders stepped down so it was time for him to show he was ready to lead, to command the loyalty of the Society, and to navigate the dangerous currents of the criminal world. To do so, Ahmet devised the ultimate test—a trial that would push Devran to his breaking point. The job was monumental: a grand heist that would secure an artifact held in the private collection of a rival gang leader. If Devran could pull it off, the Society would bow to him. If he failed, it would prove he was not worthy of his father’s empire. But the test wasn’t just about skill; it was about leadership, decision-making under pressure, and the ability to take responsibility for the consequences of his actions. What Devran didn’t know was that the heist was also a trap. His father had carefully orchestrated everything to challenge his son's resolve, forcing him to make impossible choices. He would have to outwit rival gang members, deal with internal betrayals, and face the harsh reality of the criminal world’s unpredictability. It was a trial by fire—a way for Ahmet to see whether Devran could endure the pain of loss and still rise above it.
The Heist
The night of the heist, Devran took control. He led the operation with the precision and intellect that had been drilled into him over the years. Every move was calculated, every detail meticulously planned. Yet, despite the flawless execution of the plan, everything was thrown into chaos. The rival gang had anticipated the Society’s moves, and betrayal came from within Devran’s own ranks. One of his most trusted friends, someone he had known his whole life, turned on him, leaking vital information to the enemy. Devran was forced to improvise, adapting quickly as the walls closed in. He made split-second decisions to protect his team and salvage the job, but in the process, several members of the Society were lost. The heist, though ultimately successful, came at a steep price. Devran’s heart weighed heavy with the loss of loyal men, and the bitter sting of betrayal remained long after the dust settled. The heist had secured the artifact, and with it, a massive victory for the Society. But the cost—both in lives and trust—was a harsh reminder of the brutal reality of leadership.
Proving His Worth
When Devran returned from the operation, his father was waiting. Ahmet did not offer congratulations, nor did he offer sympathy. Instead, he simply asked, "Was it worth it?" The silence that followed was thick, heavy with expectation. Devran had passed the test—he had shown he could lead under pressure, outsmart rivals, and manage the harsh realities of his world. But his father’s cold gaze reminded him that leadership came at a price. Devran now knew that he would never be the carefree, charming playboy again. He had stepped into the role of the leader, but the mantle was heavy, and there was no going back. Ahmet’s approval came in the form of a simple nod. "You’re ready." Devran had earned his place at the head of the Society, but it was not a victory he could celebrate. His heart was marked by the loss of his people, the betrayal of those he trusted, and the cold understanding that in the world of the Society, loyalty was as fragile as glass. Now, as the leader of the gang, Devran knew he had only just begun. The true test was not in the heists he would pull off, but in how he would keep his empire intact, with the weight of every decision hanging over him.
The Weight of Legacy
With his father’s endorsement and the support of the organization, Devran stepped into the role he had been groomed for since birth. Leadership, however, came with its own challenges. The Society was a network of individuals bound by loyalty, respect, and fear. Devran had to navigate complex relationships, balance tradition with innovation, and maintain the Society’s dominance in a world that was changing rapidly. Devran also faced the challenge of uniting an organization built on loyalty to his father. He had to prove that he was not just Ahmet Şahin’s son but a leader in his own right—one who could protect the Society from its rivals and guide it into a new era. Though he projects confidence, inside he wrestles with self-doubt, guilt over his mother’s death, and the pressure to prove himself worthy of the Şahin name. His charm and resourcefulness are his greatest assets, allowing him to unite the Society under his leadership while keeping up appearances in the world of high society. Yet, his true test lies ahead: surviving the gang war and ensuring the Society emerges stronger than ever.
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This is my hcs regarding Calypso as a person. Like in the OG Odyssey, Calypso actively helps the DorfMisers however she can & will most likely entertain them (like, how a host would; ya know, hospitality) as well as engage him intellectually. Also, like in the Epic song "Love In Paradise," she often shows great concern for them. Like, yes, her affection & insistence on a romantic relationship can be A LOT & it can be overwhelming at times. Some might even call it love bombing. However, it also very obviously comes from a real & earnest place of desiring connection. A real place of wanting to know more about him & understand him. She is very cheerful (if a little bit overconfident at times, as shown in the Love In Paradise song when Ody indicates that he'd kill her).
At the same time, based on my personal analyses considering her own words in both songs that she's featured in, she is also inquisitive & shows boundless curiosity for not only him, his life, his thoughts, & his experiences, but also for seemingly anything & everything regarding the world beyond the island. *ominous chord plays in the distance*
Like in Percy Jackson, she is also kind & gentle, not to mention, very tender. She is also a bit playful & very caring/compassionate. However, like in her Homeric depiction, she can have a fierce temper.
Sometimes, she can come across as a bit childish, but she's also very, extremely intelligent & appears to know a lot of very, very old stories, myths, & legends (but no newer ones) of her world. And is also faultlessly self-sufficient.
And, once more based on my hc of her, she appears to be very skilled at a nearly endless amount of things. Things like the arts, crafting, cooking, even some fairly impressive feats of construction, considering that she only has access to island materials; those sorts of things. But it's all generally in a bit of an unorthodox organic style.
Delving deeper into the sorts of skills she has, for crafting:
She knows how to make charcoal from wood, which she then uses to draw or write.
She can make dyes & paints from the various plants & other resources (egg shell, seashells, ect) around the island.
She has managed to learn how to make simple tools & even instruments.
She is unusually skilled at building things like furniture, huts, & other useful things.
She paints & sketches & draws.
She sculpts & writes as well as weaves & sews. She knows a large amount about foraging from the island & knows much about gardening her favored fruits & veggies (will likely begin to cultivate whichever fruits & vegetables the DorfMisers seem to favor as well). Has managed to learn animal husbandry, too. And she is an amazing cook. Much of it being things that she invented or named herself.
Not to mention dancing, climbing, timekeeping via the position of the sun & stars, & a whole host of other talents. And, despite her lack of knowledge of fighting or the use of weapons, she seemed to pick it up rather quickly just from watching him practice. (Do the DorfMisers take time to teach her how to fight properly?)
And, she's likely to show much interest in the Gerudo & their culture. Or the Yaksha in Demise's case. As well as this Hyrule that the Dorfs are so captivated by. Or the Triforce for Demise.
She is also liable to attempt to recreate the things that he describes to her. Things like clothes, art, tools, jewelry, musical instruments, scenes from his stories. Though, of course, there'd be limitations in what she can make due to their location, but the effort would be obvious.
She would most likely request the Dorfs teach her Gerudo, but will back off if he refuses, though depending on how angrily or viciously he does so, she may somewhat resemble a wounded puppy.
Personally, I believe that OoT, TP, and TotK, as well as Demise, would refuse to teach her Gerudo, but thats because Oot is prideful, TP suspicious, Totk for military importance, and Demise cuz hes a dick.
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Calypso’s multifaceted personality—a vibrant blend of compassion, curiosity, boundless skill, and gentle insistence—would undoubtedly captivate each of the Ganondorfs and Demise in unique ways. Her deeply genuine interest in understanding them, alongside her impressive yet unorthodox skills, would likely disarm even the most hardened of their hearts, though each would respond differently based on their nature and history. Here’s how they might perceive and respond to her:
Wind Waker Ganondorf: At first, he would likely be both amused and skeptical of Calypso’s affectionate attention, sensing the intensity behind her words and gestures. Her attempts to recreate elements of his Gerudo culture would charm him, evoking a quiet, nostalgic pride. He’d find himself entertained by her endless questions and her curiosity about the world outside the island, appreciating her gentle spirit but wary of her insistence on a romantic connection. If she asked to learn the Gerudo language, he’d oblige at first, taking a secret pride in sharing his culture with someone who seems genuinely fascinated. Her lack of recent knowledge would likely trigger a wave of curiosity in him, wondering just how old her tales truly are. While he might tease her for her “island ways,” he’d be surprisingly touched by her efforts to build a little Gerudo world on her island for him.
Ocarina of Time Ganondorf: He’d initially view Calypso’s intensity with suspicion, unsure if her cheerfulness and insistence are sincere or simply another test. Her playful, slightly childish manner would clash with his more somber worldview, but her insistence on understanding him would strike a rare nerve of empathy in him. He might react to her passionate curiosity with dismissive scoffs, though he’d ultimately find her endless pursuit of knowledge and her craft endearing, especially as she creates things resembling his homeland with just the bare resources of her island. Her wounded expression at his colder moments might make him soften a little over time, begrudgingly answering her questions when her efforts reveal true passion. Her calm patience would win him over bit by bit, though he might never admit it openly.
Twilight Princess Ganondorf: Her gentleness and warmth would be unexpected to him, and he’d likely find her unyielding desire to learn both curious and amusing. Twilight Princess Ganondorf would be taken with her kindness, especially since he doesn’t often encounter such unwavering support. Her keen interest in the arts would intrigue him, especially if she crafted jewelry or ornaments reminiscent of Gerudo culture. He’d find her playful spirit refreshing, though he might struggle to balance his enjoyment of her attention with his need for distance. If she requested to learn Gerudo, he’d probably agree with a slight smirk, appreciating her genuine interest in his heritage. Over time, he might even grow accustomed to her doting, finding her childlike curiosity a grounding influence on his own darker ambitions.
Hyrule Warriors Ganondorf: Used to commanding armies and inspiring fear, he’d be almost bemused by Calypso’s sunny disposition and her affectionate nature. Her consistent attempts to bond with him on an intellectual level would intrigue him, as he rarely encounters someone so wholeheartedly interested in him rather than his power. He might find her skilled crafts and self-sufficiency to be a mark of true strength, perhaps even considering her a kindred spirit. Her playful insistence would amuse him to no end, though he would draw boundaries and make them clear; any breach, and she’d get a fierce reprimand, though he’d secretly regret seeing her hurt. Her curiosity would draw him into unexpected conversations, and he’d answer her questions when it suited him, maybe teaching her combat basics as a lesson in self-reliance and resilience.
Tears of the Kingdom Ganondorf: Her sincerity and boundless curiosity would strike him as charming and refreshing, given that most of his encounters revolve around ambition and intrigue. Her warm, hospitable nature would soothe him in a way he hasn’t felt for centuries, and her interest in the Gerudo would make him feel a sense of kinship with her. He’d show a reserved affection, though her cheerful insistence might bring him a quiet smile. Her boundless interest in the world outside the island would give him pause; he might respond cautiously, wary of opening too many doors to his past. If she were disappointed by any refusal to teach her Gerudo, he’d explain gently, finding himself unexpectedly touched by her genuine wish to connect with him. Her innate kindness would rekindle a dormant protectiveness within him, even as he works to conceal it.
Demise: Initially, he’d likely respond with a mix of annoyance and amusement to Calypso’s earnest attempts at connection, not used to being treated with genuine affection or curiosity. Her unbridled enthusiasm and affection might seem naive to him, though he’d find himself drawn in by her strength and self-sufficiency. Her fierce temper would make him grin, finding it oddly endearing when her otherwise-gentle demeanor cracks. Her curiosity about the outside world and her ability to craft wonders from nearly nothing would stir a spark of reluctant respect in him. Her innocent, puppy-like disappointment would feel surprisingly endearing to him. Her clear fascination with the Triforce would rouse his interest, and if she ever crafted pieces resembling the Triforce for him, he’d be deeply flattered. Over time, he might even teach her some basic combat, thinking her determination worthy of such knowledge.
For each of them, Calypso would be a mysterious, captivating figure, one who gently pries at their guarded hearts with her genuine curiosity, unwavering compassion, and unmatched self-sufficiency. She’d inspire unexpected fondness and respect, each of them finding that her kindness and affection—while overwhelming—stem from a truly admirable place.
#mallowresponse#legend of zelda#ganondorf#ganon#demise#wind waker#twilight princess#ocarina of time#tears of the kingdom#skyward sword#hyrule warriors#ai use#use of chatgpt
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Henry Danger Reader Insert | Captain Man x Reader: SEASON 5
Epilogue Part 2: To End Up With You (SMUT)
Season 5 Masterlist
*Aloha! This has been a long time coming, but here you go! The end!
This is just...this is...utter filth. Very very grown-up, and I don't recommend trying some of the stuff at home.
There's some plot, but it's mostly just smut (apart from the end) and includes some slightly spicy images, i.e. a woman in underwear. Avoid it if it's not your thing.
P.S. I've never been to Hawaii, so don't expect this to be accurate or realistic. Please enjoy the final chapter of this book as Ray and his sweet girl enter their new chapter <3
The journey was hell, but it brought them to heaven.
After a gruelling six-hour flight, Ray and (y/n) finally touched down in Hawaii, the final couple to board the packed flight. They'd gone straight from the mall to the airport, having easily laid a few thousand down on a new wardrobe each after realising everything they owned was now ash and charcoal. With heavy hearts, they made the first step of letting the old Man Cave go, knowing new beginnings deserved new threads. However, (y/n) wished Ray didn't try to carry every bag she bought in the name of chivalry.
But shoving a few weeks' worth of clothes and essentials into a few suitcases wasn't easy, meaning they showed up to the plane looking slightly mad and certainly rumpled in their suit and white dress.
They were newlyweds, which went well with the grumpy old man in the aisle seat next to them. He rolled their eyes as they bumbled into the middle and window seats. Ray graciously took the central option since he was a gentleman, unlike the loser who swore that anyone who was ever late should be lined up against a wall... Not the sort of guy Ray wanted his sweet girl rubbing shoulders with.
But, six intolerable hours of crying babies, lousy food, and no sleep later, they touched down in paradise, catching peeks of the shadowy beaches and black sea beneath them as they descended through the clouds. It was disappointing to know they didn't get their first glimpses in daylight, but (y/n) didn't care, not when they collected their bags, shoved their passports in the face of the kindly man in security, and skipped out into the free air.
They still had a taxi ride ahead of them, but it didn't matter to her; this was Hawaii - the place she'd always dreamed of. And now, she had finally arrived with her husband by her side.
"Calm down, darlin'. We've still got an hour before we get to our hotel."
"I know, I know! But a girl can be excited, doofus. It's my honeymoon, after all..." she giggled as they slunk into the back of the cab, refusing to stop holding hands, even as they fastened their seatbelts. He couldn't help but smile at that, too, bubbling with excitement at the prospect of spending three weeks interrupted with his wife. His wife.
He wasn't used to that, frequently raising her hand to his lips so he could kiss her rings - the ones that told the world she was his and he was hers. It was a sweet sight for the taxi driver, who politely chatted with them, cooed when they spoke of their recent nuptials, and welcomed them to the island like they were old friends. That instantly stood out to the happy couple; everyone around them was pleasant and friendly - always smiling.
And, of course, the man at the hotel lobby's entrance smiled. Sharp, bright, pearly like a shark, his hand outstretched for his expectant tip that had Ray reaching into his wallet. He didn't care, not even when (y/n)'s eyes widened at the fifty-dollar bill he handed over--wasn't that a little extreme? She would've thought so if it wasn't for the foyer that greeted her, taking her breath away as a bellboy jumped into action to carry their bags.
That was the kind of place the hero had booked; endless polished marble floors, high ceilings, luxurious wallpapers on walls otherwise painted white, soft velveteen couches for waiting clients, and a tropical fish tank that reached the balconied floor above them. The place felt like a palace, gleaming and spotless as (y/n) took in its beauty with a wide-eyed expression and open mouth.
She felt a little intimidated, wondering if such a place was meant for someone like her, who often dribbled food down her front or wore dirty sneakers. But she didn't need to worry; as fancy as the hotel was - literally the best money could buy - the staff were far too well-mannered to say anything. As per Ray's plan, they wouldn't bump into any snooty residents anyway. Even the judgemental glances at their shotgun wedding attire would pass as the very accommodating man at the front desk handed them keys and congratulated Mr and Mrs Manchester for their recent marriage.
Her new title was foreign but not unwelcome as her lover whisked her away again, ushering her away from the main building with the bell boy and into what looked like a reinforced golf buggy.
"What about our room, Ray?"
"Don't worry, sweet girl. You'll see..." the man whispered into her ear as they huddled in the back of the vehicle, pushed together by the cooler air and a constant need to be close.
Everything was so mysterious and lacking in detail, giving her little to nothing to imagine as the spotty kid drove them along a rocky path beside the main beach. He was nice enough like everyone else, accustomed to tourists and the like as the bright building disappeared behind the lush vegetation behind them. Undoubtedly, Ray didn't intend for them to sleep on the beach, (y/n) assumed, but she couldn't help but wonder as the darkness crept around them, and the sound of crickets grew louder.
There was almost no one around here; everyone was put off by the mountainous terrain, forest, or isolated sane dunes to walk this far away from the sun beds, bars, and restaurants. She would've been okay with that palace, knowing the rooms would've been expensive but of the highest quality--fit for a king and queen, so she didn't understand what could've been better out here in the middle of nowhere.
"I can hear you think, sweetheart. Trust me. I know where we're going," Ray chuckled, kissing her cheek and jaw as her eyebrows twitched in confusion. He read her face like a book, sensing her slight apprehension, despite trusting him with her life. Knowing her doofus, he wouldn't have stopped until he had the best of the best booked, nothing but the finest luxury for his darling wife, yet she couldn't work out what that was.
"Can't you give me a clue? Just a little one?"
"Nope."
"A tiny one?" Damn, he was holding out on her, distracting her with kisses and a warm hand on her thigh as she whined. A brattier part of her wanted to pout; this was her vacation, too - why couldn't she know where they were staying, especially if it was some mud hut out in the sticks? But no, she had to remain calm and trust the process. She did not want to look back on her honeymoon and remember a temper tantrum, not even when Ray stood fast and refused to spill his secret.
"No."
"A teeny-weeny-peeny one?" But he couldn't fault a sweet girl for trying.
"Cute, but no," he grinned, pecking her nose as she wrinkled it in defeat. What a meanie, making her suffer a surprise of all things. But she relented, eagerly leaning out of the buggy to try and work out where the bell boy was taking them as he worked on making her lose her cool.
He'd been a nightmare of the plane, whispering all kinds of tempting, sinful ideas to her, ranging from wondering what that pretty little dress would look like on the cabin floor to joining the mile-high club. All of which would've earned them a lifetime ban on flying, so she switched on a movie and told him to eat his microwaved goop. Cue Ray pouting, mumbling about needing his wife more than ever now that she'd taken his surname, but whatever. His moment would come - literally.
Ignoring his tummy-tingling touches, she peered at their surroundings. It didn't help that it was way past their bedtimes with little more than the moon and stars to cast their light onto the beach and rural trails, but gradually, she began to piece some things together. The further they got from the central hotel, the more frequently the tiki torches appeared, guiding them onto a smoother road and toward an open stretch of white sand and endless ocean dotted with individual shacks that glowed warmly and invited them closer.
Well, she said shacks. As they approached, she quickly retracted that noun, gulping when she saw their design and grandeur, replacing it with mansion. They were huge, made from solid wood and stone, with open windows, potted plants and palm trees to make the rooms cool and airy in the warm, welcoming light. Each had its pool that stretched around the properties, leaving islands for wicker furniture, outdoor grills, and sun beds.
It should've been cosy with so many couples living so close together...until (y/n) realised they weren't individual rooms but one lot - one space for one paying customer, who just happened to be Captain Man. He'd booked one villa for three weeks for two people, namely himself and his wife, who deserved to dine, sleep, and explore without fearing someone interrupting their getaway. Was it expensive? He used his card without a second thought once he'd seen the bedroom and king-sized bed online. It was perfect, and her expression was exactly what he'd been hoping for.
"Good?" he asked as they got closer, laughing when his sweet girl almost stuck half her body out of the window to try and get a better view.
Good was an understatement as they pulled up near the front door, framed by the grand, looming porch with its flowers and seagrass welcome mat. The place screamed domesticity and comfort, stealing (y/n)'s breath away as she scrambled out of the golf buggy with a helping hand from Ray. He didn't want to see her trip, not when they had three weeks to enjoy the space, although he understood her excitement.
"Uh-huh..." she nodded weakly, her head constantly inclined as she stared at the pretty villa, noting its creamy walls and ornate slate roof. Her eyes couldn't drink in its beauty fast enough, but one thing was sure - it must've cost Ray an arm and a leg. Possibly a kidney, too.
"Doofus, this is too much. You didn't have to spend this much on us for one vacation."
"I did, sweet girl. You deserve it, and besides, who doesn't want their own resort, complete with a private pool and beach?" He shrugged, helping the boy with their many suitcases because he was nice. She was his for the next twenty-one days, and he didn't want to share, deeming the communal buildings too busy and noisy for a proper romantic getaway. After all, Ray Manchester didn't share, not when he planned on making his pretty wife scream to the heavens.
"You mean it's ours? There's no one else?" (y/n) frowned, but now that he mentioned it, she realised she hadn't seen anyone since they'd checked in. Could he mean it? No one at all?
"Not for miles around, so I have you all to myself. No kids, no emergencies, no bald weirdos showering with pigs... Just us," Ray smirked, gently kissing her lips as the kid - Ryan? Rhys? Rob? Whatever - worked on placing their bags in the hallway past the grand doors. He seemed a little too eager to please, cruising for a healthy tip as he snuck a few glances at the pretty lady wearing the even prettier dress. She was hot...but her husband was terrifying, especially when he caught him staring.
He was used to it - every man and boy liked to drool over his wife, trying to tempt her away with sneering smirks and crooning words, but she didn't know it. (y/n) was entirely focused on her doofus, throwing her arms around him and chanting a million thank yous to see how the boy turned all hazy-eyed at the sight of her soft thighs. It was just a tip he was cruising for, making Ray curl over her body protectively and glare at the spotty kid.
"Can we go inside?"
"'Course, sweet girl. Just let me get those last few bags..." Ray smiled, gesturing for her to go and explore as he puffed out his chest and took all four bags in one mighty lift. As his girl skipped off to see what delights awaited inside, he strolled past Rob--Rick--River--whatever his name was with a Cheshire grin, knowing he didn't have to take the bags, but he wanted to. That kid was just a kid, and he wasn't jealous...or pretending that the luggage wasn't heavy - he just wanted to speed up the process.
With her doofus showing off to the bell boy, (y/n) stood stunned in the open living room, breathless by the elegant space. The open plan gave the kitchen and dining area a nice flow into the seating area, where a plush white sofa surrounded a solid wood coffee table. The mini bar was free - prepurchased by Ray - and they could choose to cook, dine at the five-star restaurant or phone for room service, depending on their energy.
Slipping her heels off, she walked into the airy room, noticing an enormous bed through a large archway on the right. Adjacent to a mirror, vanity unit, and wardrobe, it was big enough to fit four people. It was a mountain of duck-down and pure white Egyptian cotton that would give anyone the best night's sleep. Sleep sounded nice after so long on the plane, enduring turbulence and the constant pilot announcements, but she kept wandering.
There was a bathroom, too, complete with a walk-in shower, pool-like tub, and two his-and-hers sinks at the marble counters. Everything was gilded and polished, decorated with tasteful cultural art or paintings of sea life, making (y/n) smile at the thought of dolphins, turtles and little fishies.
Through the open arches on the back wall, she saw the deep, turquoise pool bubbling as it reflected the moonlight. It wasn't huge, but it would be fine for two people, especially when she saw an untouched, private beach just a few metres behind the shrubbery. The next villa along must've been miles away, giving them utter privacy from their neighbours--whoever they were. No one would peek over the fence to catch a glimpse of her sunbathing or spoil their relaxation by partying on the sand.
This was the Hawaii she had only read about in billionaire's magazines, and Ray had managed to get it for her. She'd make it worth his while.
"Do you need any help unpacking, ma'am?" A soft, polite voice broke through her awed daydream, snatching her gaze away from the impressive decor to see the boy - Robin or whatever - standing before her. Ray had finished his job for him, but he couldn't help being helpful, especially for someone staying in the princess suite...and for such a gorgeous lady.
"Oh, uh---"
"No, thanks, pal. My wife and I can take it from here, so why don't you get back and your golf buggy and go back to the kiddie club or wherever you work?" Before she could speak, Ray was by her side, giving the blushing kid his tightest yet cheesiest grin as he curled his arms around his sweet girl and pulled her back against his chest.
(y/n) wriggled at the intimate embrace, feeling shy as the boy looked away with a bashful, nervous giggle, but she relaxed into her doofus. She expected Ray to be handsy, recalling how he behaved on the plane and verging indecently when she said she was cold, but she understood why. Being alone sounded heavenly, meaning she did her best to give the kid her politest smile as he backed off, seeing he'd get nowhere with the lady whilst her husband was around.
Something told her that he must've been popular with the female guests.
"Are you sure that will be all, ma'am?" The kid was incessant, practically batting his eyelashes at (y/n) as she giggled, noticing how he ignored her bulky, sulking husband, who seethed behind her. If only he knew who he was talking with--whose wife he'd set his sights on...
Ray opened his mouth to give him a damn good talking, wanting to curl around his sweet girl and shield her from the leering eyes since she was too precious for such corruption. Still, she simply raised her hand to tell him to button it. There was no need to spoil their first night with a fight, and the sooner she showed him her disinterest, Ramon or whatever would go away.
"Yes, thank you. We can manage from here," she assured the boy, stroking Ray's forearm as it rested against her tummy. It seemed to calm him down, or maybe he was more interested in rubbing his slightly stubbly cheek on the top of her head to show his loving possession over his sweet girl. It placated him anyway and warded his rival off as he bowed his head and bid them goodnight.
"Very well, ma'am. Room service is available twenty-four-seven, so please, enjoy your stay and don't hesitate--"
"Yeah, yeah, we'll phone the front desk. Thank you, and goodbye!" Ray butted in sharply after he untangled himself from the heroine, using his vast size to force the kid toward the door. He was the king of subtlety, making (y/n) roll her eyes at how he roughly shook his hand, pressing a fifty-dollar bill into his palm just to get him to fuck off and leave them alone--like he'd paid for.
The door slammed shut in his face before another word could be uttered, leaving the stunned, if richer, boy standing in their front porch light, wondering if it was something he said.
Finally, they could breathe a sigh of relief. The hero turned around to see his precious girl smiling at him like she found something funny, failing to hide her laughter through her fingers as he moodily stomped over to her. He knew the beauty he married - one of the many reasons he loved her - but come on, any guy would be irate to have another bum giving her such lovestruck stares--not that there'd ever be another guy.
"You didn't have to throw him out like that, doofus. That kid was only trying to be helpful," she teased him, smoothing her flat palms up the man's chest as he huffed and pouted but looped his arms around her too.
"He was ogling my wife," he replied gruffly against her neck, instantly resuming what they'd hastily paused on Mount Swellview many hours ago. Neither wanted to think about the kids, not because they were mean or forgetting them already, but because the pain was still fresh. They were miles away and alone, but this time was supposed to be for them - fun and relaxing.
So, Ray did what he did best, running his lips up and down her throat in his best method of seduction, knowing he, for one, was dying to see her naked, preferably underneath him. And he was good at it, smiling against her soft skin when a hand pushed his face closer, encouraging him to nip and poke his tongue out--
"Uh-huh, sure. I think he was just being polite. I mean, come on, Raymond, he looked about twelve..."
"Exactly... I know how the twelve-year-old boy's mind works, darlin'. He took one look at you and thought he stood a chance," he growled, reaching around her hip to slide his hand down to her ass, grabbing fistfuls of her flouncy, lacy skirt and the soft, supple flesh hidden underneath. (y/n) chuckled, tilting her head back to allow him more space as she thought a little seduction couldn't hurt, not when his small but skilled ministrations made heat pool in her belly.
"And you know that he didn't. Not when my grumpy doofus of a husband was ready to fight everything within a half-mile radius for the right to be within three feet of me, including the mini-bar," she rolled her eyes and shook her head, relishing a few more pecks before stepping away from him.
Ray's whine was puppy-like, quickly reaching out for his sweet girl when she left his body cold and lonely just to go and look out across the balcony. Damn right, he'd show that punk who he was messing with, gazing at her sweet little body in that stunning dress before he'd even peeled it off. This was his time to indulge in everything his wife had to offer, so it made his nose wrinkle and heart weep to see her curiously exploring the space he'd rented.
The nighttime breeze was pleasant, brushing through her hair as (y/n) looked across the dimly lit pool and out to the shadowy bay. It was dark - why would she want to look? Or, that was Ray's conclusion anyway, thinking the stupid views and exploration could wait until the morning. After all, it had been a very long flight, so he hoped to have a very long night with his wife as they tested the mattress to see if it was worth paying an extra seven hundred dollars for a reinforced frame.
"Sweet girl, come back!" He whined, reaching out to grab her hand--shoulder--butt--anything before she disappeared.
"But, doofus, I wanna look around," the heroine argued as he caught her wrist and pulled her back into his chest, wanting to better understand how big the place was. It was late, and she was exhausted, but she couldn't help it, not when her rebellious streak silently dared her to go skinny dipping. She thought Ray would've enjoyed that, but he just raised an eyebrow and pouted more, looking wildly comical.
"It's dark," he said like it was obvious, glancing at the starry sky and how it hid most of the gorgeous island from view. (y/n) She shook her head and smiled, biting her tongue at his incredible deduction because she obviously knew it was dark. But she wouldn't let that stop her, not even if her silly doofus told her it was too dangerous to traverse the rocky, uneven pathways that were just begging to trip her over with a taro root.
"So? The decking is well-lit, and I think I saw a jacuzzi out there. Don't you want to relax after travelling?"
"Yeah, but I had different plans," the hero shrugged, trying to play off his desire like he wouldn't get down on his knees and beg if she asked. Call him desperate, but a man couldn't survive without his honey, and if he had to plead to taste it, he would--although, usually, he didn't have to go that far for his fill.
"Like what?" (y/n) asked innocently, acting as though she didn't feel the hand on her ass again, squeezing her cheek like he was playing the accordion. Ray looked down at her through darkened eyes, knowing that she knew--knowing she was trying to drive him insane with her teasing words and how her finger drew circles on his dark shirt. Heat struck through his loins, making him grab her hips and pull her closer until their pelvises were flush--as if that wasn't a big enough hint for what he wanted.
"You. Me. Naked. All night." Well, if you don't ask, you don't get - that was Ray's motto. (y/n)'s eyes flew to her hairline, not expecting her lover to be so bold, but she rolled with it, keeping her cool even as she subconsciously stepped closer. The jacuzzi was good, but being underneath her doofus sounded better, calling for her to spread eagle on the bed and let him do what he wanted. She was, after all, his good little wife.
"Raymond, what will the neighbours think? They'll think you're a man of loose morals if they hear you talk to a lady like that," she gasped as if his murmured confession scandalised her. Hollywood wouldn't offer her any roles any time soon, her tone a little too dramatic as she whacked his pec and pressed the back of her hand to her forehead like a fifties movie star.
He huffed at her antics, taking that hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it, which led to his lips trailing down the inside of her arm as her breath hitched. She was a terrible actress, but Ray didn't care, egged on by her breathlessness and need for proximity as they danced around what was inevitable now. Honestly, he would've begged for some action if she wanted, but she was always so receptive anyway.
"There's no one around for miles, pretty girl. It's just us," he chuckled, kissing down her arm until he was back at her neck, lightly biting her jawline as he ground his hips against her stomach. Her thighs tensed and clenched at his blatant arousal, tempted to sink to her knees like a good girl and take him in her mouth there and then. The thought made her mouth water, suddenly growing pliant and needy as she thought about his unsubtle request.
But she could never resist a little teasing.
"You pitch a tempting offer...but I might just go and look at the coconut palms," she smiled sweetly, patting him on the cheek before moving to turn her back on him, of all things. It was torture, knowing she couldn't give a shit about a tree, whether it grew tasty, tropical fruit or not, but Ray was so much hotter when he was moody.
A smirk plastered across her face as an arm shot out and hooked around her waist, reeling her back against his chest as she squealed and giggled, knowing she had him. A growl turned her knees to jelly, ensuring his sweet girl wouldn't try running again now that he'd caught her, pressing his hips against her ass as his mouth came down against her ear, blowing warm air down her neck. His free hand - the one not preoccupied with keeping her against his taut body - firmly grabbed her chin, holding her face still as he bent over her, breathing heavily for a few seconds before speaking.
"Oh, no, sweet girl... I'm not letting you go tonight. You're staying in bed with me all night. Do you understand?"
"Yes...Captain," she whined, eagerly pressing her ass back into him as her voice became needy and whiny, void of any ideas about teasing. He had her right where he wanted her in a well-rehearsed method that could've named Ray a mastermind. He was always good at swaying her mind, kissing her neck a few times as his hand released her chin and ghosted down her front, barely stroking over her breast before he released her.
(y/n) gasped at the loss of contact, hating but loving how quickly he'd turned her on, knowing he could bend her over and fuck her right then and there. His seduction was short but effective, leaving her underwear sticking to her thighs and her hands shaking in mere moments, so why wouldn't he take her?
A wave of brattiness at the loss of his body had her practically stamping her foot. She looked over her shoulder with a pout to see her doofus shedding his dark jacket and neatly folding it over a chair whilst he hungrily gazed at her body. Fuck, he looked good in that shirt, which had to be at least a size too small to make his biceps and shoulders look that big and broad. And he knew what he was doing, smirking a little when she whined and squirmed, wanting something - a direction, order, suggestion - something to tell her what to do before she burst into flames.
"Good girl..." Ray hummed, undoing the first few buttons on his cuffs to roll his sleeves up his forearms, exposing inches of deliciously tanned skin, twitching tendons, and strong muscles. It was better than a striptease, making (y/n) kick off her heels and step toward him - anything to touch him.
She pulled him into a filthy kiss, running her tongue along his bottom lip as Ray eagerly reciprocated, swiftly taking dominance as she slid her hands down to his collar. Her fingers deftly worked to undo more buttons, hoping to see his chiselled torso as he groaned and explored her mouth before abruptly pulling away. Their breathing was ragged, and their lips were swollen, but (y/n) was on a mission, growling lowly in her throat when she struggled with the following button. She was too excited, wanting her husband instantly naked since he'd reminded her of how much she needed him.
It had been too long; between fighting Drex, recovering from any injuries, and coping with the next chapter of their lives, sex had been forgotten, especially since Ray refused to touch his wife's bruised body. It was a shock to the system, given how they woke up most mornings in the mood, and she was as desperate as he was - although without Ray's ulterior motive.
"Doofus..." the heroine whimpered when he pushed her hands away when she nearly had it. She'd waited thirteen years for a wedding night with him, leaving them plenty of filthy ideas to try out, yet he refused to get undressed. Was he trying to kill her?
"All in good time, darlin'," Ray promised, knowing what he was doing as if he was known for being a king of patience. "Now, as much as I love this dress on you, sweetheart, it has to go...
"Yes, Captain..."
"That's my girl..." Ray smirked, swatting her ass once as he fumbled for the zipper on the back of her dress. It was a bit fiddly, cleverly hidden under stiff fabric, so the metal didn't show. But he managed it, peeling the material apart as it exposed her soft back, becoming loose enough to shimmy down her body. He anticipated seeing her naked tits and stomach, licking his lips as he yanked down the irrelevant dress now that his fancy was elsewhere. Still, it seemed his sweet girl had a little surprise for him.
As the dress pooled around her feet, his eyes bulged out of his skull at the sight of her clad in the hottest yet daintiest set of white, lacy lingerie he'd ever seen. It pushed her tits together and trailed down her stomach, hiding and revealing everything as she innocently fluttered her eyelashes and moved the bra strap up her arm when it slipped.
Her thighs rubbed together for friction, drawing his attention south, where his gaze glued to her pretty pussy, clad in the tiniest pair of panties he'd ever seen, marred only by the wetness making the material sticky and clingy, tempting him to pull them down and clean her up.
"Fuck, that's pretty..." he groaned, rubbing his down over her stomach as she giggled, feeling nothing but beautiful under his stare as he rolled his thumb over her nipple until it was hard and straining through the thin bra. If he'd known she was hiding such sinful garments under that dress, he would've taken her sooner...maybe on the airport floor.
"Like it?" She asked with a giggle, having hidden it for weeks after an impromptu trip to the mall and a very high-end boutique. Piper begged to know what she had bought, revelling in the woman's warm cheeks and ears, but she tucked it away in a drawer where no one would find it. After all, it was meant to be a surprise.
"Think you know the answer to that, you little minx..." Ray grunted, his voice tight and strained when her hand rubbed the front of his black slacks, rolling her fingertips against his stiff length.
It was no secret that seeing his wife clad in so little lace had him hard enough to cut glass, so he upped his game, rubbing up against her and stretching and squeezing her naked flesh. If there was one thing he loved, it was her in a thong because they gave him such good access, pulling her cheeks apart as he kneaded them with little hurry.
"Will you fuck me now? Or am I not tempting enough?" She asked coyly, batting her eyelashes as Ray groaned, missing her touch when she pulled her hand away from his cock to run them over her body. The sight set his veins on fire; wanting nothing but his talent to bring her pleasure that night, he cupped her cheeks and began walking her backwards toward the bedroom.
"Bed. Now," he ordered, going to undo his shirt as she giggled, carefully walking faster until the backs of her knees hit the bed's edge. She allowed herself to tumble onto the mattress, confirming it was as soft and luxurious as it looked. Being the true pillow princess she was, (y/n) didn't have to do anything as relaxed into the cotton and tucked her arms behind her head to watch the show.
Consciously or unconsciously, Ray made a show of ridding his body of the infernal shirt, nearly ripping the last few buttons when he grew tired of doing it correctly. As he edged towards her, he shrugged the black material down his shoulders and tore it off, giving her the mouth-watering sight of his naked abs and thick pecs. God bless whoever invented working out, making her shamelessly flop her legs open as he stood next to the bed, looking every bit the Greek God he was.
He stared down at her, licking his lips as she spread her legs and rested her hands on her tummy, openly welcoming him to do whatever he pleased as long as it ended with her fluttering cunt satiated. And who was he to deny her.
Ray quickly popped his slacks open and pushed them down his meaty thighs, leaving her hungry for the cock pressed against his expensive underwear as it left a dark spot on the front. He'd never been harder, thoroughly turned on by the knowledge that he was staring at his wife as she waited for him to fuck her. He might have been on the brink of discovering a kink, getting off on the fact that he'd made her his wife and had God's gift to mankind all to himself for eternity.
"Don't just stand there, doofus. I need you..." (y/n) whined, breaking him out of his daydream to see her head tilted back against the pillows and her previously idle fingertips sliding toward her soaked panties. He tutted at the sight, reaching to stop her before she could draw any self-pleasure. Anything she felt would come from him, meaning he quickly joined her on the bed, crawling up the mattress like a wolf hunting its prey.
"Don't touch what's mine, sweet girl..." he warned lowly, laying on his front as he kissed her clothed clit, making her mewl for more when his tongue flickered over the sensitive nub.
"This pretty little pussy is mine, understand?" He asked gruffly, slinging an arm over her stomach so her hips couldn't move. She could writhe, whine, beg, or thrash, but under Captain Man's bulk, there was no moving, just taking whatever he did or didn't give as he groaned at the faint taste reaching his tongue through her soaked thong.
"Yes..."
"In here, you are mine, sweet girl. You will do what I say and take whatever the fuck I give you because I know you love it. I'll make this lush little body shake when you scream and beg for more..." the hero said darkly, making her tremble as he affectionately rubbed his cheek against her hip, so she could feel his stubble scratching her skin.
She nodded feverishly, agreeing wholeheartedly because he could do whatever the fuck he wanted, and she loved it--she'd learnt that much in the time they'd dated. She wanted to succumb to his dominance and control, not because he owned her, but because he knew her. And she knew he'd keep her perfectly safe as he fucked her into the springs.
"But out there..." Ray murmured, glancing over his shoulder at the open doors giving the room its breeziness as it led to the open world.
"Out there, you own me, darlin'. I'm yours. I'm gonna take care of you forever..."
"Fuck, Ray--fuck me already!" (y/n) cried, tightly holding his shoulders as he kissed along her squishy thighs, teasingly dipping her fingertips under her waistband like he was gonna pull the panties down her legs and feast on her wet cunt. But he didn't, too busy sucking fleeting bruises into her flesh as he kept her legs pinned beside his head. He tutted and sharply bit her thigh, earning a squeal from his beloved wife as she pulled his hair, begging him to undress her properly. The lingerie was pretty, but now, it was in the way, making her feel trapped in the tiny panties.
"Patience, darlin'..." he crooned, laving over her pussy in what was as much a tease for him as it was for her. He'd love to bury his face between her thighs until she couldn't take anymore, but he didn't want to rush. They'd only get one night like this, one first time as husband and wife in the throes of passion, and he tried to make it memorable.
"Don't tell me to be patient! I want you to fuck me...need it. Can't you see how wet I am for you?" (y/n) whimpered but stared at him invitingly, biting her lip, fluttering her eyelashes, licking her lips, and squirming--every trick in the book to try and entice him. She even stretched to cupping her breast and moaning, throwing her head against the pillows like she did when he filled her repeatedly, making Ray swallow thickly, watching how her chest heaved.
"Shit, sweet girl... You know I want you," he conceded, thinking his desire was evident--constant, given how he could never leave her alone. His hand reached to take hers, pulling it away from her tits to kiss her fingertips, the ones that brought self-pleasure when he wanted to be solely responsible for that job.
"So, why don't you?" (y/n) asked moodily, wrinkling her nose like a child as her doofus took his time trailing his nose's tip from thigh to thigh and over her stomach. Crawling up her body, he palmed her tits and messily left kisses along her collarbones, dawdling for some reason known only to him. She accepted his kiss when he reached her mouth, languidly exploring her honeyed taste until she grew too impatient, pathetically thumping his shoulders, making him smirk.
Ray knew what he was doing; he might not have known much, but he knew how to make her squirm.
"Let me make love to my wife. Let me savour this time, and I promise I'll ruin this needy cunt after..." he whispered, brushing his hand over her forehead to push back stray hairs before gently pecking the skin there.
(y/n) didn't know how he did it. How could a man be so tender yet so filthy simultaneously? She instantly felt the shift in the room, forgetting her brattiness to sink into the pillows as sensual energy surrounded them, forsaking any need to tear clothes and go at it like rabbits. It was slightly strange, given that Ray, whilst a very generous lover, tended to prefer rougher, faster fucks than something slow and steady. She didn't mind that since he knew how to leave her breathless and sated, but she'd be a liar if she claimed to not tear up at his words.
Her doofus made it sound so special, trailing his knuckles down her cheekbone like she was made of glass--the most precious thing in the world. He looked down at her with the softest blue eyes she'd ever seen, becoming jelly-like in his embrace as Ray blanketed his sweet girl with his body.
"Ray..." she murmured, feeling like she would cry when her arms reached under the ones beside her head to hug him closer. Tonight, he would be her doofus, her beloved Ray, her husband, not the Captain everyone else knew him as.
As her lips found his skin, suckling imaginary bruises where she could, he worked on reaching around her back to unhook the bra. The hero chuckled when his pretty girl hung off his body, unwilling to let go even when he wanted her perfect tits free, and that wasn't easy when she kept distracting him. But he managed it, fiddling the catch until he could peel it down her arms and throw it somewhere unimportant - a plant pot or something.
Next, he pulled her underwear down, aware her chest was sensitive and ripe for playing with, but he just had to see her naked. There was no prettier sight than his wife underneath him, wearing nothing but moonlight and her wedding rings, making him harder than stone. A grumble left (y/n)'s throat when he momentarily pushed her away to hold her hips in the air, yanking down the lacy panties and throwing them over his shoulder too.
At last, she was bare, looking like an angel as she stared up at him, reaching for his shoulders again since she couldn't stand to have him so far away. A hand came over her ribs to fondle her tit, rubbing his thumb over her nipple as Ray watched her eyelids flutter, missing his utterly besotted smile as he leaned down for another kiss. He couldn't get enough.
"I love you, (y/n)..." he whispered against her lips, meaning it with all his heart as she cupped his cheeks and kissed him, drowning in happy tears - whilst her rings caught the light and sparkled.
"I love you, too," she replied instantly, feeling his cock brushing against her stomach as he smothered her with his immense bulk. But, for now, she ignored it, not wanting to ruin the moment with her neediness as he pecked and blew raspberries on her cheeks - anything to make her laugh. His shoulder shook mirthfully, resting his forehead against hers as she unsubtly bucked her hips, rubbing against what she desperately craved.
"Please, doofus... Want you inside."
"You don't want to eat this sweet cunt, darlin'? But it's my favourite part..." Ray frowned, also not wanting to ruin the moment with a minor disagreement, but part of him couldn't help but deflate at the news that they were skipping the foreplay.
It was true; he could spend hours between her legs and happily go without anything if it meant getting a taste to satiate his addiction. He loved it all; taste, smell, sounds, feeling of her thighs quivering around his ears - it gave him a purpose, and he was damn good at it. His precious wife would attest to that.
"I believe you said you'd ruin me later..." (y/n) replied, smirking, only to lose any smugness when his fingers appeared at her soaked folds, brushing through them like a teaser for what was to come. Just the thought of lying back and letting him feast to his heart's content made her opening flutter, which Ray definitely sensed as he slowly, mercilessly, almost cruelly circled her clit with a featherlight touch.
"Doesn't mean I don't want you to soak my face..."
"We're here for three weeks, doofus. We have time, and right now, I want my husband's cock inside me..." she said sternly, gripping his chin between her forefinger and thumb, but a sparkle in her eye said it wasn't malicious. Ray gulped at her words, feeling his length bob in his underwear as she sank deeper into the duck-down pillows, staring through her lashes like a vixen when that word fell from her lips.
She'd married a pious man; he worshipped at her altar, getting down on his knees for his penance faster than most men before their wives. He happily devoted his life to her, seeing heaven when he had her like this, and it got worse when she begged, lips against her ear, nails digging into his biceps, legs sliding around his waist.
"Please..." his angel pleaded, enjoying his weight on top of her, but she had to stop the emptiness inside her, thinking she'd gone too long without it. He screwed his eyes shut for a second, needing a second to collect his cool before nodding weakly, gulping and giving in because he couldn't say no. The great Captain Man was one of the strongest men on Earth, resistant to every villainous temptation in the world, but he could never deny his sweet girl anything, especially not when she was begging for his cock.
So, he clumsily hooked his fingers under the waistband and tugged his underwear down, aided by the woman underneath him as she pushed them over his pelvis, so he could kick them off. His cock bobbed in the air so hard it stood straight, perpendicular to his smooth abs, as he pushed his hips down. The underside met her wet slit, making them both groan as he slowly dragged it through her heat, teasing them in replacement of foreplay, even though she'd been dripping since that damned plane ride.
"So...beautiful for me, sweetheart..." he choked, realising how wound up he was as her hips undulated for more, hoping he'd show mercy and slide home.
From head to toe, they were pressed together, skin on skin, wearing nothing but their wedding bands as Ray took himself in hand and slid his bulbous head to gather her wetness. As much as his better judgement wilted, he couldn't bring himself to rummage through their luggage for the lube he'd bought from a...questionable store. He would be mad to leave a sexual goddess like her alone in bed, waiting for him to fuck her, so he hoped she'd forgive his impatience, not knowing she craved the burn and stretch.
"Inside, doof...inside..." (y/n) chanted, reaching between her legs to wrap her fingers around his cock, notching him at her entrance as he dipped in her slick.
"I got you, darlin'. Anything for my wife..." The hero nodded, knowing he couldn't leave her wishes unattended, so he pushed forward, angling his cock slightly upwards as it brushed against the first inch of her walls, pulling her apart like always--as if they'd never fucked.
"Oh, fuck--feels--feels so good--"
"Oh, fuck--that's good." "T-Tight--so tight for m-me," they groaned together, clinging to each other for dear life as the emotion swept over them, mingling with the pleasure of becoming one. Tears sprung from the corners of their eyes, making him moan roughly and sigh as he pushed in, relaxing against her body whilst fighting the urge to jackhammer into her.
Something about her being his wife turned him feral like he'd succeeded against every other fool vying for her hand. Knowing that this was their endgame--that he was the last man who'd ever feel her like this made him want to lose control, pin her down and leave her body like a shrine to his claim. She'd bear his loving offerings when the time was right, but for now, he gritted his teeth and waited until he bottomed out, feeling like he was seconds away from cumming.
He should've had more restraint, given that he was too impatient, selfish, and needy around her to delay until their wedding night. If he was any more of a man, he would've waited and savoured the moment, but he didn't have that much self-control--and honestly, neither did (y/n). So, it should've been boring after how many times he'd taken her, sometimes several times a day in all manner of ways, but this felt like the first. He felt like a teenager again; she was the girl he swore he'd love forever, more than one fling for a prom.
"Move, Ray. Need--need--"
"Shhhhhh..." he soothed her keening moans, rocking into her slightly, just a minuscule jerk to make her gasp. Her face was screwed in pleasure, clenching so tightly around him it was almost painful from how wound up they both were. Ray just knew his sweet girl was in her head, dying for a good, rough fucking that would last mere seconds, but he knew she'd last for this. It was just a matter of soothing her.
"Relax, sweet girl. Let me take care of you--make you feel so good 'cause you're my good little girl... My perfect girl."
(y/n) nodded, taking a few deep breaths to calm her racing heart and loosen her muscles. Instead of running toward her high, she focused on the moment and the man gently moving inside her. He tore up sweet heaven inside her, wrapping her arms around her body as he thrust deeply, shallowly, hitting all the right spots but at an agonisingly tender pace.
She held him, too, tasting the salt on his skin as the room superheated from the friction of skin-on-skin, filled with the wet sounds of his cock driving into her cunt.
It drove Ray half-mad, staying at the slow pace as his open mouth panted hot air across her forehead, where his squeezed-shut eyes and knitted brow helped him feel everything. Through the pleasure, (y/n) heard his mumblings, which sounded more like he was talking to himself than her, between every grunt.
"Fuck--right where I belong!" "C-Can't believe you're mine. How did--how did I get so lucky?" "Love you every day." "Make love to you every day--so you know...I love you."
She smiled at his words, raking her nails down his back as molten heat surged through her veins. Ray sensed it, reaching down to rub slow, tight circles around her clit to push her over the edge and feel her walls tighten - nothing made him prouder than knowing he made her cum. Her first high was gentle but intensely satisfying, leaving her mewling and digging her manicured nails, raking down the muscly expanse of skin, making him hiss.
It burned so pleasantly, pulling a brutal thrust from his control that had her choking after the sensitivity of the small but powerful orgasm. He quickly regained his composure, grunting an apology as he fought to stop pounding into her, even though it made his sweet girl hold him tighter.
"This little pussy just loves to be fucked hard, huh?" He asked coldly, chuckling when she nodded frantically--as if that would make him move faster.
"But you can take it like this, right? My wife can take me any time, any way, right?"
"Uh-huh...just like my husband will always make me cum first--right?" (y/n) replied with a grin, tilting her head back as he kissed, licked and sucked across her neck, biting down where he pleased since it made her tighten around him, squeezing his cock like a vice. She was warm, snug and impossibly wet after cumming, making him lose himself. as he growled at her words.
"Damn straight, sweetheart. At least twice. Always."
"You're every girl's dream, doofus," the woman giggled as he doubled his efforts, upping the pace slightly whilst keeping his thrusts soft. But it was true; anyone would sell their left kidney to have a husband as considerate and kind as him, with the same prowess. Three to one was Ray's golden ratio, leaving her with jelly legs yet utterly satisfied every time they fucked--and that was often.
"True..." The hero smirked smugly, lapping up her praise like the bigheaded doofus he was, and it made her whack his shoulder weakly as his fingers returned to her clit. He knew that after bagging so many girls over the years, there was only one he truly loved, and it was his privilege to be between her legs.
"But you're my girl, and I'm not a dream. Fuck--you make me weak."
"You won't be the sore one in the morning..." (y/n) moaned as another high built in her core, spurred by his fingers dancing over her flesh. Her slickness made them slippery, effortlessly passing over her clit over and over as he sucked her tit and ran his tongue over her nipple.
Nothing made him prouder than seeing her waddling after a good rough session, but it was often short-lived. Other girls felt it for days after, but (y/n) was lucky if she had hours to feel the ghost of her lover in her pussy with every step she took. Her super-regeneration often Soothed her muscles before Ray could bask in the knowledge that anyone could work out that he brought her endless pleasure. He hoped he'd see it when they woke.
"Yeah? You gonna cum again, darlin'? 'Cause I don't want you walkin' in the morning."
"So good--kiss me, Ray..." she begged, ignoring his teasing and smugness when her cunt fluttered, aching to release around him. His fingers quickened on her nub, and who was he to deny his precious girl's request?
He bent down and swallowed her moans, rolling his hips to give each pump of his cock a slight grind, finding that sweet spot with expert precision. She wailed into his mouth, shuddering in the safety of his arms as Ray breathed deeply, puffing out his cheeks as his stomach tensed, threatening to fill her before he'd completed his goal. His caveman instincts told him to ruin her, and that's what he aimed for, hoping to wring her dry with three orgasms.
He doubled his efforts as the first died down, leaving her twitching and delirious from the oxygen his lips stole. Finally, his thrusts grew rougher, rushing to build her next orgasm since his tight balls and prickling skin suggested he couldn't hold out any longer. It wouldn't take much, not when she was so sensitive from the last, chasing his thrusts with her undulating hips, but he hoped to God he didn't lose it.
And she didn't make it easy.
"Fuck me so good, doofus... Gonna cum in me?"
"Y-yeah--fuck, yeah, darlin'. Just g-gimme a few--" Ray gasped, trying to ignore the minx beneath him and her tempting, sinful whispers. He always thought she was so pure and innocent until he got her like this, discovering she could make him cum faster than anyone he'd been with before--with just a few words and a squeeze on his cock.
But (y/n) wouldn't be defeated, knowing her third and final orgasm was inevitable with her lover finally fucking her, she felt it. The signs of him chasing his end were the sloppiness and uneven pace that satisfied his needs more than hers - self-indulgence. And being the mischievous succubus she was, she couldn't help but lull him into sin, teasing him with every preference, kink and weakness she knew.
"Fill me up--want it. Want it dripping from me all night, leaking from my pussy."
"Keep talking like that, and I won't--you won't-- want you to cum again, sweetheart," her doofus stammered as her words fucked with his mind, sending stabs of heat through his loins. He had to leave her fulfilled, but God, if she wasn't pushing his limits. And she didn't stop there, seeing that she'd caught him even if he tried to stay in control.
"And I want to be fucked full, doofus. Need you deep inside me, and maybe this time it'll take." It was a low blow, but it worked. Ray groaned gruffly, wrapping a large hand around her throat as his hips jumped from their own volition.
He knew what she was talking about and cursed when he told her how deeply he wanted kids with her. The thought of making them both parents, of creating a perfect person, half doofus and half sweet girl, made his head swim and cock rock-solid. She'd be a mom, and nothing sounded hotter than his wife with fuller hips, thighs, and tits--fuck, she played dirty.
"Shit--no--can't talk like that, darlin'," the hero garbled, losing himself in her trembling walls and the possibility of watching her swell because of him--no.
He couldn't think like that when they agreed they wanted to be settled and secure before introducing a child to their hectic lives. But fuck, if it didn't make him want to try. There was no harm in imagining it--his true purpose was caring for his soulmate and child as he craved.
"Cum in your wife, Ray. Cum for me." But (y/n) didn't care.
She sucked his earlobe into his mouth and tightened her walls like a vice, milking Ray for all he had. That had him; he fell for her hook, line, and sink as she played her wife's card and held him close, biting a hickey below his neck as the first of his cum painted her insides. That brought forth her own orgasm, brief but intense, making them cry out together as his pelvic bone touched hers, locking them together.
Pushed as far into her as possible, Ray growled and fucked her further into the mattress, wanting his seed to reach the deepest parts of her. His gaze met where their bodies joined, thinking that there was a teeny-tiny possibility that it could happen this time as he relaxed into her softness.
"You'll be the death of me, sweet girl..." he said breathlessly, staying inside her whilst he regained his breath. She welcomed his weight, enjoying his tacky skin and endless warmth as he pecked her lips and smiled. She knew he was thinking the same thing when she hummed at how pleasantly full she felt, even if it was more of a dream than a plan.
"If you go, I'm following you, Raymond. You're not getting rid of me now," (y/n) replied firmly, finding his left hand to stroke his wedding ring, falling in love with how the thick golden band fitted so snugly.
It gave him an air of maturity and stability that screamed domesticity and called to her lesser instincts. Her perfect husband would take care of her, love her, and keep her safe for the rest of her days--it made her want to doze in his arms and forsake all her worries to be his little wife.
"Good. I want you with me forever, darlin'. Love you so much..." Ray grinned cutely, kissing her rings, too, as he imagined dying whilst buried to the hilt in her pussy. There was no better way to go, but he'd never leave his sweet girl, not when his heart fits perfectly into the palm of her hand.
"I love you, doofus. Thank you for all of this--it was the perfect end to our wedding."
"Night's still young, sweet girl. And I want you on your hands and knees and screaming my name by the end of it..." he promised, rubbing her hip as she giggled and stretched. Her walls pulled on his cock, making him grunt and lightly slap her ass since he meant it when he said he'd ruin her.
This would be a night they'd never forget, and he wanted her thoroughly worshipped by the early hours. It would be a long night if nothing else.
"Gonna clean me up?" (y/n) asked, smirking as he leaned on his forearms, pulling out of her cunt to encourage her to turn onto her tummy. He pulled her ass up so it wiggled in the air - perfectly presented for a midnight feast.
"Anything for my wife."
~The next morning~
*literally the perfect reference for how these two sleep^^^--the closer, the better. Sometimes (y/n) is nearly laying on her doofus and it's why he wakes up...needy.*
Golden daylight filtered into the room as the happy couple snoozed. After a night in each other's arms, staying awake until the early hours screaming to the heavens, they slept in past breakfast.
The hour must've been ten or later when (y/n) 's eyes fluttered open, and she could've easily napped longer if it wasn't for the sun flitting over her face. She rolled over onto her back with a groan, throwing the crook of her elbow over her face as a makeshift sleep mask. Still, there was something to smile about - the silkiness of the sheets against her naked skin and the equally nude body next to her.
Cracking an eye open, her sleepy brain paused upon seeing her surroundings. She was confused by the palm trees she spotted through the glassless window and the bright, airy room around her, unlike the cosy yet dark bedroom in the Man Cave. Sitting up, she held the silk sheet against her chest and scanned the room, the previous night's activities returning to warm her ears and cheeks.
God, they'd been filthy, rolling around and soiling the pristine set during multiple rounds - so many she couldn't remember the exact amount. Four?--she seemed to remember, but it could've been more or less. Either way, it left her utterly exhausted and deliciously sore, muscles aching in a manner she wasn't used to after so many years of super-regeneration.
Throwing the sheet back, her legs swung over the edge of the bed, not because it was time to get up and be productive - a repulsive thought whilst on vacation - but because a glass of water sounded divine. Of course, her doofus took care of her, bringing her sustenance after her sixth high, but that was hours ago.
So, she braced herself against the plush mattress and moved to stand, groaning lightly at her sore body when a hand curled around her wrist and pulled her back down.
"Where do you think you're going, sweet girl?" Ray's rough voice asked, making her look over her shoulder to see her doofus' silly face poking out from under the sheets with his hair all fluffy and ruffled. His eyes were creased and puffy from sleep as he through the quilt off, revealing his toned chest and Adonis' belt.
"I'm thirsty, doof..." she replied, smiling at her lover when he scratched his clavicle with his ring hand and rubbed his face. He looked adorable--almost worth staying with if it wasn't a five-step trip to the en-suite with her glass.
"You're not allowed to leave this bed, remember? I don't want you lifting a finger, darlin'," he said grumpily, casting her mind back to the loving snarl he proclaimed in the middle of the night.
She didn't take it too seriously, knowing he expected to wait on her hand and foot, carrying her around like a queen, hand-feeding her, and fetching whatever her heart desired. He was determined to take care of her as he promised, even if it grew a little much when the hero said he wanted her to stay in bed for the next three weeks.
"I can get water, Raymond."
"Let me get it for you," he offered, instantly sitting up as he pulled her back to the mattress and pillows, smiling when her body bounced on the springs. (y/n) huffed, half annoyed by his silly obsession and half enamoured by the sight of his bare butt wiggling out of the room.
"Such a doofus..." She murmured to herself, laughing silently at the sound of some bangs and clanks in what she assumed was the mini kitchenette she saw last night.
Only Ray would run off buck-ass nude to fetch a simple glass of water, and it wouldn't be plain, old tap like she was planning on. No--the man skipped back a couple minutes later, a tall, condensation-covered glass of filtered water, complete with ice and a wedge of lemon, in hand. He was so extra and brazen, totally unashamed of his nakedness, especially when her hungry gaze took in his fit body, making her gulp.
He knew what he did to her, strutting like a peacock as he approached with her sorely craved drink.
"Here you go, Mrs Manches--" he crooned, giving his love a smarmy, besotted smile as he returned to her side, reaching the bed's edge and leaning over to pass her the glass when he spotted something. Ray paused mid-sentence, freezing like a statue as (y/n) looked up in confusion.
"Doofus, what's wrong?"
"Oh, my sweet girl..." His eyes darkened as he dumped the glass on the bedside table, uncaring when the contents sloshed over the sides, chinking the ice cubes together.
Ray wasn't bothered, more concerned with joining his wife on the bed, knees planted into the mattress next to her as he hovered over her body, inspecting it. She squirmed under his gaze, not embarrassed but concerned since his face seemed screwed up in pain or fury. He looked mad, but his icy fingertips were gentle as they traced her collarbones and neck.
The touch made her shiver, giggling from the ticklish sensation and a few nerves that spawned from his intense stare, causing her to wonder if she had done something wrong. He gulped, practically drooling as he gazed at something she couldn't see, which wasn't like his usual arousal. After all, whilst he loved seeing her naked, it was nothing he hadn't seen before, adding to her bewilderment.
"Seriously, Ray... what's wrong?" She asked, taking his hand into hers as he shook his head slightly to snap his mind back to the present. Whatever it was made him lose it for a minute.
"Darlin', you--I--lemme show you," Ray stammered, not knowing how to say it because it had never happened before. They'd shared many morning afters, which were nearly identical, usually starting with sleepy, cosy sex and a much-needed shower. However, this was different, but not in a wrong way - God, it made him throb.
Without another word - not that he could find the right ones - Ray reached to grab his phone from the nearby table, where he'd thrown it down the night before with his keys, some loose change, and wallet. He hadn't bothered to charge it, so he quickly snatched it to his body, fumbling to open the camera app and flip its screen to the inner lense.
He passed it to his precious girl, making her frown since she wasn't one for staring at her bedhead, no matter how much he said he loved her in the morning. But (y/n) did as he said, taking the camera and checking her appearance since something had caught her eye.
Yep, she looked awful. Makeup clung to her skin in smeared patches, gathered on her lash line, and rimmed her lips in a ring of faded rouge. Not even Piper's lewk could withstand a night of kissing, blowjobs and rough fucking, and neither could Charlotte's handiwork. Her hair was like a bird's nest, making her wonder what he was on about unless she looked so terrible it wanted a strong reaction.
But this was her doofus, and he wasn't so shallow as to mock her smudged makeup, so what was it?"
"Okay, what am I meant to be looking at? 'Cause all I see is my pores, panda eyes, and--oh." Oh, indeed.
Angling the camera to catch every contour of her face, (y/n) muttered incoherently as she made a note to scrub her face well when they got up--and call room service to change her pillowcase, but that's when she saw it. It wasn't her face or hair, but her neck, the soft stretch of skin that Ray loved nipping and sucking in the throes of passion.
Usually, they never stayed awake long enough or focused hard enough to see the bruises formed in the perfect shape of his lips...until now. Scattered across her skin were dozens of hickeys, ranging from tiny to massive, light and dark, some gathered in clusters and others more random from when Ray wasn't concentrating.
It didn't stop there; she could follow the trail down her stomach, giggling as she remembered how her doofus kissed down her tummy to her cunt, and fuck, if his marks didn't make it flutter.
"Holy shit, doof..." she chuckled, feeling slightly naughty as he gulped and touched the bruises, recalling every instance he blemished her skin. He'd never seen it before, shocked by how something so simple and commonplace could turn his blood to fire, but this was his sweet girl. He'd never seen her bearing his love bites - it was filthy.
"I know, darlin'. Fuck, you look so hot," Ray growled, kissing a few bruises and running his tongue over them, making her giggle as she stared at the phone. Strangely, he was right; as much as it was every mother's nightmare to see her daughter looking...ravaged, she loved it. Anyone and everyone would see her on Ray's arm and know what they'd done...and that had her pussy dripping like nothing else.
"I guess when Schwoz said our powers aren't back to one hundred per cent, he meant it, huh?"
"I wish we could stay like this...look so pretty covered in my marks," Ray mused, imagining how perfect it would be to see evidence every time they fucked. It awakened a new ferocity inside him, taunting him to forsake his protectiveness just to keep her bare and bruised in his bed. Maybe it was his need and want to stay in paradise where they could pass their days with sun, sea, and sex - his favourite with his sweet girl.
"Miss Danger says otherwise, Raymond," (y/n) replied softly, rubbing his smooth jaw tenderly as he sighed, knowing she was right.
Eventually, they'd leave this place and return to their crazy lives. He wouldn't take her into battle without the utmost protection, which meant this would be a one-time treat, something he'd only see once to fulfil his dirty desires. They had a week at most before their powers returned, and he was determined to make the most of it...until an idea popped into his head.
It was dirty and daring, but that's why Ray loved it. Nothing much, just something to warm his soul on long, lonely nights when God forbid, his sweet girl wasn't around to warm him with her scorching heat around his cock. He only needed to ask.
"Can I--Could I--Can I take a picture, darlin'? Please?" He asked tentatively, knowing the implications of what he wanted. But seeing her clutching the PearPhone and catching a glimpse of her sultry expression and mottled skin on the screen convinced him - he'd die a happy man if he could see her beauty like this forever.
(y/n) paused, licking her lips slowly as she contemplated his words, understanding the faith she'd have to put in his hands to warrant something so risky. A flutter of irrational nervousness bloomed in her chest, unwanted yet impossible to ignore—she trusted him, God—the things she let him do to her, of course, she did. But common sense won out if only to ask...
"Promise you won't—" (y/n) trailed off quietly, a rumble of understanding coming from Ray in place of his usual cockiness.
It was rare for him to see her timid and unsure whilst underneath him, and he saw how she pressed the camera to her chest, too scared to chance accidentally snapping a nude pic. His precious girl... he'd never wanted to hurt or frighten her, turning him squishy and loving.
"Never, sweet girl. I don't share. No one will ever see them," the hero promised, understanding the confidence she gave him not to ruin her reputation and make her a laughing stock. He would never, but this would be her at her most vulnerable - it was his privilege to be trusted so deeply.
And she believed him. For all his aggression and arrogance on the streets, fighting scum—Ray was utterly loyal to those he loved, uniquely protective in exchange for nothing more than someone was willing to give. He proved a hundred times over that he'd rather die than see her hurt. He barely allowed men to leer at her in the grocery store, let alone in such an alluring position – it was enough to inspire her following actions.
"Okay, just...give me a minute," the woman giggled nervously. Ray backed off as she settled into the pillows to capture the best angle, bathed in natural light and a faint glow from the room's warmth.
She rearranged herself on the bed, her head on the soft pillows to easily relax against them and tilt her body upwards. The air kissed her feverish skin, nipples tightening further under its caress. It felt almost... dirtier to do this under his all-seeing, hungry gaze, thrilling to be so exposed. Ray lapped it up as he watched her raise the phone above her to include her pretty face, gorgeous tits, stomach, and the apex of her thighs all in one.
The photo was sinful, making her heart pound and her thighs clench.
Did she really look like that?
The bright sunlight streaking through the chiffon drapes illuminated her soft tummy and the contours of her breasts – shadows dipping and falling over marked skin and hardened nipples. It highlighted the curve of her hips and the sinful V between her thighs, where Ray happily settled himself. He could see how wet she was, but he couldn't take his eyes off her face - a lot for a man between his dream girl's legs, growing hard when she snapped a few pics without a second thought.
"Fucking hell, sweetheart. Have I ever told you how fucking sexy you are?" Ray groaned, stroking her thighs as he lay between them and rested his chin on her pubic mound, looking like a soft-eyed puppy as she posed in a sultry manner.
"Once or twice, doofus," (y/n) giggled, flicking through the pics she'd taken and deciding that she didn't look half bad as the girl on the phone stared up at the camera and flaunted her figure and the dark circles covering it. She agreed; she looked hot, but they weren't for her use...
"What do you think?"
"Shit...fuck, these are gonna get me off so hard," Ray cursed when she handed him his PearPhone. He nearly had a heart attack as he saw her angelic form captured forever for him and only him to see.
He quickly saved them to a private folder hidden in the depths of his cell, locking them in a password-protected folder just to be sure that even if someone found them, they'd have to work damn hard to see.
"Your tits look pretty enough to bite, darlin'. And this..." the man growled, resting his hand over her pussy as she grinned, loving the effect a simple photo had over him. Maybe she should invest in a Polaroid camera...
"Fuck, can I take a picture of your pussy? Your thighs are just as bruised, sweet girl..." Ray gloated but shyly met her eye as he moved his fingers down her slit to where he'd sucked the jelly-like flesh of her legs when he'd eaten her out hours earlier. He loved leaving proof of his presence behind lest someone else neared what was his--not that they ever would.
He was the only one allowed so close, but still, he had to ask.
"I swear, I'll never--"
"Do it, doofus...but I want your cock after," (y/n) said with a smirk, loving how respectful and cute he was as he asked like a good boy.
It was a fair exchange in her mind. Ray thoroughly agreed, furiously nodding as he shuffled back, propped up on his elbows with his phone between her legs, ready to snap the opposite view.
She sucked in a breath, a coiled tension low in her stomach forcing a trickle of wetness from her cunt—making slick folds soaked as she refrained from rubbing her thighs together uselessly. It was exhilarating and almost impossible to stay still knowing her doofus was staring at--critically analysing--photographing her most intimate area. Still, she did her best to look as sexy as he thought she was.
"Yeah? You wanna get fucked?"
"I think you know the answer to that," the heroine grinned, tweaking her nipples to total hardness for the pic, making her throw her head back and moan as pleasure shot to her core.
"Fuck yeah, I do."
Ray quickly captured the glorious sight, feeling his stone length grind against the sheets from the sheer eroticism. Her fun pushed her chest into the air, partially hiding her face but highlighting the hickeys on her tummy as he groaned, loving every minute. The angle was perfect--almost professional--as the camera focused on her soaked folds and marked thighs that trailed to her twin peaks and sexy pout.
He had never approved such photos before, deeming them immoral and dangerous in the wrong hands, but this felt...okay. He'd never do it with another woman, but their trust ran deep, and they felt safe in the confines of marriage. They had no need to share or seek revenge, just a little fun in case they needed a quick release.
"So fucking hot, sweet girl...show me that pretty face," he growled after finishing between her thighs, shuffling up her body for his final wish.
He wanted a couple of those doe-like eyes and soft lips staring into the lens--his soul. He'd stare at that in his final moment before completion, imagining her mouth around his cock, swallowing his load, or how her eyelashes would flutter if he painted her face with his cum. The thought made his length throb against her stomach, and she grinned as she smiled into the camera.
"That's my girl..." the man cooed as she bit her lip, pouted, and poked out her pink tongue--every seductive expression she could think of that he might like.
"Yeah? Do I look cute and fuckable?"
"Like a little minx, darlin'... No wonder I can't keep my hands off you," Ray grinned, satisfied with how many pics he had, so he leaned down to gently kiss her. His tongue languidly pushed into her mouth, exploring leisurely as she moaned and melted, letting him do as he pleased, the camera forgotten.
"Fuck me, then. You don't need those pictures when I'm dripping for you right now..."
"Shit... If only people knew what you're like, baby," Ray snarled mockingly, seeing how she smirked when he did as she said anyway, but he was too far gone.
"They'd never think such a sweet girl was so fucking dirty."
He spoiled her too much - what made her so demanding, but who would deny an angel of her wish? Not him, and not when he ached so severely, so he took himself in hand and rubbed his bulbous head through her folds. She was so fucking slick, convincing him that it was their combined release from the previous night that he was coating himself in.
"You want them to know? To see?" (y/n) teased, cupping her tits and rubbing her palms against her nipples teasingly as he lubed his cock. She licked her lips, tempting him with her best tricks to try and seduce him, desperately craving his thickness inside her after posing for him.
"No. You're mine."
"I know...and you're mine. So, fuck me," she replied firmly, threading her fingers through his hair to pull his head back, exposing his throat. It was a technique she'd learnt from him, giving her perfect access to attach her lips to a patch of skin beside his Adam's apple.
Ray groaned as she sucked a bruise and left indentations with her teeth, delighted by the result since his indestructibility clearly wasn't back to normal either. Usually, she couldn't burst any blood vessels or break his skin, merely give him the pleasure of laving at the salty taste, so this was as much a treat for her as it was for him.
"You look pretty too, doof. Want me to mark you up?"
"Fuck, yes..." Ray groaned, picturing himself standing before the mirror with a purple trail down his neck. It would be even better if it was accompanied by her lipstick - red, maybe? - but that was an idea for later.
Tucking it away, he focused on his beloved wife, placing his tip at her entrance and pushing into her blazing heat as the phone fell from his hand to land next to her head.
"Always feel so big--" (y/n) whined, digging her fingernails into his scalp and bicep as he filled her, stretching her walls, despite fucking her over and over for hours last night. Ray kissed and ran his tongue over her jaw, whispering sweet words when he bottomed out, balls pressed against dripping pussy.
"Gonna split you open on my cock, precious girl—leave you bruised from how hard I fuck you," he grunted, beginning to fuck into her when she nodded to move. He swiftly set a relentless pace; gone was his tender lovemaking, and they were back to what they loved - a good, rough fucking, wrapped in each other's arms.
"Feel how deep I am?--Love—love how that greedy little pussy sucks me in."
She nodded pathetically, moving her arms around his back and holding him close. Her nails dug into his toned flesh and raked toward his ass, jerking with every earth-shattering thrust he made. The man hissed at the sensation, revealing his throat for her to suckle on, leaving marks he'd proudly wear wherever she pleased.
"Feel me in here? Feel how deep my cock is, sweetheart?"
"So deep--so big--feels so good," she whimpered into his neck when he pressed his hand down on her stomach, making it feel like his cock was punching through her stomach and into her throat.
He moved fluidly as she scratched his back, leaving angry red lines for admiring later. The base of his cock ground against her clit with each aggressive thrust, making her moan and gasp a stream of filth as she gushed around him, welcoming him deeper. The contact with the sensitive nerves brought forth her elusive release, and she forfeited scraping the left side of his body to circle it with two fingers.
"That's it--rub that pretty little clit. Soak me, darlin'--make this cunt nice and wet for me," Ray babbled, pounding into her as she threw her head back and screamed, following his command like his good little wife.
She came around him, tightening her walls, making him groan and bite down on her collarbone--another blemish for the collection.
He didn't stop, fucking her through her orgasm, despite her whimpers that it was too much. He knew she'd take more--she always did--so he slowed down briefly to more of a grind, hitching her leg over his hip to get deeper. The intense bliss was one hell of a drug, that sort of animalistic rut, that carnal desire – unbridled and embraced – as they fucked each other into exhaustion.
"Fuck me so good, Ray--why don't you take a video?"
And just like that, she broke him. Ray's game was flawless, and he seldom missed a beat, but her whispered offer made him stutter and turn sloppy.
Fuck, he had to be dreaming because nothing had ever sounded so tempting. He thought he'd been pushing his kick with the photos, but to be offered a videoed performance of his dirty girl, complete with sounds and movement? He nearly came from the idea, fucking her down into the mattress with renewed vigour as he choked--
"Oh, shit--sweetheart, are you sure?"
"I trust you, doofus...and I want you to remember this--how you fucked me so well," (y/n) nodded, seductively smiling as he fumbled for his phone, thankful it hadn't bounced onto the floor during their vigorous activities.
"Don't think I'll ever forget, precious girl. Fuck, you're hot..." he groaned as he slowed down, thrusting once every few seconds, which drove her mad, but when he did, it was brutal.
A sharp smacking sound filled the air with each blow and her pitiful moans since the doofus could barely do two things together. But he managed to work his phone and satisfy her cunt simultaneously, turning the camera around so it was peering down at her, taking in her needy expression from being tortured.
The man retreated onto his knees and, using his impressive strength, held her hips up to his crotch with his hand hooked under one knee, filming how his cock disappeared into her pussy, how the thrusts made her breasts heave, and every pretty little face she made. He couldn't hit record quick enough, pressing the big red button to begin what would undoubtedly become his most watched video, hidden in his phone's depths for when he was most needy.
"Fucking--shit--look into the camera, pretty girl," he begged as she screwed her eyes when he upped his speed. Her tits jiggled and bounced, heaving when she crossed an arm over her body and stared into the camera, looking downright sinful with her dark eyes and open mouth.
"Fuck me harder..." she moaned, unleashing her inner actress as she tweaked a nipple and bit her lip. The scandalous nature of it all made her skin burn and cunt contract, understanding he'd watch this back, thinking and watching her.
Oh, the power it gave her, knowing she had him hooked even when she wasn't around, and if that wasn't the biggest turn-on and compliment...
"Beg me, sweet girl," Ray growled, wanting a proper show, and he knew she had it in her. She was so perfect and alluring, pouting at him in a way that made him want to ruin her--fuck her repeatedly to please her every desire.
"Pleasepleasepleaseplease--please, Captain. Make me cum," she pleaded in a nasally, whiny voice, playing it up like she'd gone without his cock for months. It was filthy, but he loved it, throwing his head back and growling, shaking the camera momentarily as her free hand reached to frantically rub her clit.
He captured it all, zooming in on her slicked fingers and how they play with her cunt before zooming out again to view the whole picture. She was a vision, better than any pre-made movie or his imagination, and it didn't take long for him to feel his release creeping up his spine.
Usually, he would've held out a little longer and really made her feel him--mould her pussy to his cock. But the video made him weak--made him imagine how he'd use it to jerk off or get himself in the mood. Only his sweet girl could make him think about cumming again before he finished, and he snarled at the thought. He was ruined for any other girl.
"Shit--shit--shit--gonna cum, darlin'," he stammered, wishing he could make her climax a few more times, but he couldn't stop the electricity speeding down his spine. Before he knew it, his thrusts were shaky, and his hand could barely keep his phone steady, indicating that he had a couple minutes max.
"I want it, Ray. Cum for your wife."
"Fuck, where'd you want?" He groaned, further losing it when she spoke to him like that, the gold of her wedding ring catching his eye, drawing it to the bruises too. It cumulated in his end swiftly approaching, and he worried that he'd spill without warning, but (y/n) didn't need long to decide.
"Cover me in it, doofus. Wanna be covered in your cum--" (y/n) moaned, chasing her high by rubbing her clit as her husband jerked his hips from inside her.
"Oh, fuck--I'm cumming--"
The loss made her cunt clench around nothing, spasming in a pathetic orgasm that left her breathless, but the absolute joy came from Ray. All he needed was one look at her fucked-out expression and a few strokes of his cock, and he painted her tummy, shooting pearly ropes across her skin that he filmed for the perfect ending.
It was a little shaky and blurry, but he could still see everything, especially how she bit her lip when the warmth coated her, spreading across the hickeys to deem her his utterly.
"Shit--that's hot. God, you look so good, sweet girl," he groaned as he squeezed the last of his cum out, watching it drip onto her stomach in tiny droplets. For the perfect end to the video, (y/n) giggled as she swiped the smear onto her index finger and brought it to her lips, moaning when the salty tang hit her tastebuds.
"I love you, doofus," she added cutely, and that's when Ray couldn't take it anymore.
He swiftly ended the video, chucking his phone onto the bedside table with a clatter, and he didn't care if it cracked. Diving down, he caught her lips in a passionate, hungry kiss, feeling like he'd been a mere spectator after that. Whilst he loved how his cum stretched across her belly, it didn't feel like enough - it didn't satisfy his need to ravage her.
"You've got no idea how much I love you, my darling girl. You're too good for me."
"I have to say...I think that's the most daring thing we've ever done, sex-wise," (y/n) chuckled as he hovered over her, uncaring if his navel brushed the mess on her tummy. If he was lucky, she'd lick it off his body before they got in the shower, but they were content to lie there for now.
"No, that would be the time we fucked in Henry's backyard," Ray grinned, fondly remembering how they were like randy teenagers, giggling in the flowerbeds--and (y/n) went along with it in the hope that Mrs Hart would catch them in the act and see her man was taken.
"Oh, yeah. He still doesn't know we broke that gnome. Poor Jerome saw things that day."
"Speaking of breaking things, how hard do you think we'll have to go to break this bed?" He suggested, ridiculously waggling his eyebrows just to hear her laugh, and she did. (y/n) broke out into sunny smiles at his silliness, but it wasn't a bad idea - nearly as tempting where her former archenemy could walk in and see a little too much.
"Pretty fucking hard, doofus, but you can try," the heroine shrugged, thinking the bed was built quite sturdily and the hotel probably expected honeymoon couples to go at it like rabbits. Still, if one man could break a four thousand-dollar bed, it was her doofus and his insatiable libido.
"... You're paying, though."
"Challenge accepted, Mrs Manchester...how about we shower first and then have round two to test the headboard?" Ray asked naughtily after pecking her cheek, thinking he'd try his damn best to fuck her properly--and part of him hoped they sent that snivelling boy to repair the frame.
"A tempting offer, Mr Manchester, but I actually have something to give you first."
Yet, to his surprise, his wife didn't jump at his suggestion to continue their escapades in the shower, which would undoubtedly lead to more fooling around. Instead, she rolled out from under him, wriggling free to make a pitiful whimper leave his throat because he didn't like to lose her softness against his skin. At least he had the magnificent view of her naked body crossing the room, the sunlight illuminating the faint handprints he'd left on her hips and ass.
(y/n) giggled at his antics but stayed true to her purpose, shuffling off the bed to go and root through her suitcase, pushing clothes, shoes, and toiletries out of the way to try and find some mystery item. Ray's curiosity piqued, and he craned his neck to try and see what she was looking for as he built his hopes up.
"Please tell me it's a pregnancy test."
"No, you doofus! Nothing like that..." (y/n) scolded him, giving him an amused eye roll at how eager he sounded, even though the idea made her tummy flip. It was sadly too soon, but she found his excitement for the future adorable, knowing he'd be the best father in the world once they were ready to take that step. And the neediest - his sweet girl as a mom? The man would be on his knees.
"Awww..." Ray pouted, sighing in mild disappointment as she returned to her search. He really thought she was about to surprise him with the greatest gift, but he didn't let it drag him down. Now they were married; it was just a matter of time, and any present from his sweet girl was still precious.
"So, what did you get me?"
"It's not much..." she replied nervously, wondering if this was a good idea as she pulled out a small cardboard box.
It wasn't anything special or expensive, just a hand-painted craft store box covered in pretty, glittery stickers that could be found in any art supply section. But it was made with love and something she thought he'd like, so she quickly returned to the bed and enthusiastically pushed the trinket into his hands.
"What's this?" The hero frowned, holding the mystery box in his palms like it was the most precious thing in the world. Whatever it was, he'd treasure it because his angel's hands made it, but he couldn't work it out for his life.
"Read the front, doofus, and open it," (y/n) instructed, tilting his hands up to read the delicate cursive she'd painstakingly painted on the box's face. His head tilted confusedly as he read it - Ray's coupons - and it didn't make much sense until he cracked the box open.
Inside, he found dozens of little shreds of paper nestled amongst shards of confetti glitter. He pulled one out, wondering what they could mean when he saw her bubbly handwriting scratched on one side, spelling out--to his utter bafflement--Redeem for roleplay. It didn't stop there; he quickly dropped that one and took another, eyes bulging out of his skull when he read, Redeem for deepthroating. And another--Redeem for one quickie. And another--Redeem for a sensual massage. And another--Redeem for cockwarming.
"Sweet girl? What--what is this?" He croaked, his cock twitching at the mention of all his favourite things. However, as always, when sex was involved, his brain stopped problem-solving and switched to seduction, meaning he still didn't get it.
"Well, just give me one of those, and we'll do whatever it says--within reason and circumstances permitting. I thought it would be fun...and it's not limited to this vacation, either," the woman explained with a teasing giggle, watching him visibly gulp as he understood what she was giving him - opportunities to do whatever the fuck he wanted. And he couldn't help but frantically search the paper scraps to see what else she'd allow.
"Anal?" He grunted, licking his lips as she nodded, knowing it was one of his favourites but a rare treat. As she waggled her eyebrows, he returned to the box, feeling his cock beginning to stiffen the more he read.
"This one just says titties. You gonna flash those pretty tits at me, sweet girl?" He asked amusedly, thinking it would be slightly absurd, but he wouldn't hate it. Not even if it seemed milder than the others, compared to things like bondage and striptease.
"Look at them, touch them, hit them, suck them, fuck them, cum on them--whatever you want. It's your coupon, doofus," she shrugged casually like utter filth wasn't falling from her lips.
A grin spread on his face as he kept going through the box, whispering fuck here and there when he came across something particularly tempting. She'd spent a lot of time making it, thinking of different things she knew he enjoyed and stuff he might like to try.
After rummaging for another minute, he snapped the lid shut, keeping the treasure inside as he leaned forward to cup her face, bringing her into a passionate kiss.
"You spoil me, sweet girl. This is the best present ever."
"You like it?" (y/n) asked, mildly relieved that he didn't throw it back in her face, disgusted and offended. But her doofus wasn't like that. He pulled her in for another kiss, cupping her breast absentmindedly, slowly palming and enjoying its squishiness.
"More like love. In fact, I'd like to redeem this one..." the man hummed with a sneaky smirk once they retreated, and (y/n) quirked an eyebrow when he presented her with a paper scrap.
Giving her husband an all-knowing but interested look, she took and unfolded it, wondering how he'd managed to touch her up, kiss, and hide it simultaneously. A smile spread on her face when her eyes scanned the words, cunt clenching at the thought of following his wishes. It was part of the deal, and she was happy to comply.
"Shower sex? You read my mind, doofus."
~
An hour and a half later, the couple were clean and well-fed.
(y/n) kept her promise, allowing Ray to redeem his voucher in the shower to his heart's content, steaming up the large glass enclosure more than the scalding water ever could. Leaving her to soak once he'd had his wicked way, the hero slunk away to order some room service--pastries, fresh fruit, poached eggs, everything.
He wouldn't see her go hungry on his watch and happily hand-fed her berries and chunks of sweet croissants once she'd dried off and dressed.
"This is a pretty dress..." Ray hummed, stroking her knee and the soft fabric covering it as he admired her outfit.
Dressing for the weather, (y/n) had opted for a summery sundress with a bright, bold pattern, leaving her hair and face natural since her doofus preferred her like that. And he did, snuggling into her side as she nibbled on chunks of mango and strawberry, sometimes smearing a pancake with Nutella and eating that too.
"I knew you'd like it--that's why I wore it."
"Hmmm...so, what do you want to do today?" The man asked, kissing her neck, liking how the dress's low neckline exposed her marked-up throat. The island undoubtedly had endless activities, from exploration to one of the cultural classes run by the hotel. Still, Ray had his own ideas on what they could do--an entire boxful.
"I have a few suggestions..."
"I'm sure you do, doofus..." (y/n) chuckled, rolling her eyes when he seductively popped a grape into his mouth, trying to look all sexy and cool but failing. He made her laugh, but it wasn't his smoothest move, and she didn't want to spend the three weeks indoors when there was glorious sunshine outside.
"But I'd like to see more than just the bedroom since you're paying a bajillion dollars to rent this place, so...pool?"
"Are you sure you want to go outside? We could stay here, all alone..." He trailed off, moving his fingertip up her leg in a vain attempt to keep her in his bed, but his beloved wife wouldn't be swayed.
"Raymond, be a good boy and come swimming with me. I would've thought the shower was enough to cool your jets," she said firmly, wondering how he still had the energy or desire to go again when they'd been at it all morning.
They'd finished breakfast, leaving nothing but crumb-covered plates and rumpled napkins, so Ray moved it off the bed, grumbling that he'd never get enough of her love and affection, not when he could look down and see the ring he placed on her finger. He'd do as she said, but that didn't mean he wasn't plotting the next time he'd get to fuck her.
"It was, but this pretty little dress changed my mind."
"Come on, you big doof..." (y/n) giggled, shaking her head mirthfully and pulling him by the hand so they could enjoy something else.
Rising from the bed, she made for the open sliding doors, padding across the smooth, wooden floor and out into the warm air. She could hear the ocean, gasping when the gorgeous view properly revealed itself under the intense sun.
Everything looked so much better in the daylight. It showed the vibrant flowers dotting the lush green vegetation, soft sandy paths, and deep azure pool, all set on a backdrop of endless blue sky. It was luxurious and well-kept, ideally suited for their needs as (y/n) approached the glorious water lapping against the volcanic stone steps. The loungers were also plush and sturdy with their amber rattan design and thick, squishy cushions bathed in shade.
"Are you sure no one can see us?" The heroine asked over her shoulder, hesitantly looking around and expecting another couple or family to come around the corner. She'd only ever stayed in resorts with communal pools and beaches, so the idea of having total privacy in the paradise was a little strange.
But Ray quickly soothed her, confident in his credit card's ability to buy nothing but the best for her. He didn't want their honeymoon spoiled by screaming kids in the restaurant or drunken idiots vomiting in the pool, so he hired his own, meaning his precious wife was free to do as she pleased.
"No one, sweet girl. There's no one here--just us. Why?"
She didn't reply. Instead, she threw a wink over her shoulder, much to Ray's confusion, who wondered why she dropped his hand and looked at him like that. But before he could question it, she grabbed the bottom of her sundress and peeled it over her head, exposing her curves without a second thought.
Ray's jaw was instantly on the floor, darkening eyes lusting over her body in what had to be the world's tiniest, skimpiest bikini - so unlike what she'd typically go for. Usually, his sweet girl stuck to cute tankinis and one-pieces, too shy to flaunt too much skin whenever they went swimming.
But this was their honeymoon, and when in Hawaii, alone with your husband - go for it.
"Fuck..." he muttered under his breath, gaze glued to her ass as she stepped into the warm water, sighing as it soothed her sore muscled. She gracefully glided into the crystal blue, kicking her legs until she was in the deep end, up to her neck and turning to see him gawking.
"Are you gonna stand there like a lemon or join me, doofus? The water's great!" She called out, treading water as she glanced at his Hawaiian-print
"The view's even better..." Ray grumbled, still staring at her soaked body and how tantalising it looked when shiny and wet--a reminder of the shower they'd shared.
She bobbed in the water, pushing her breast into the air so he could see how the bikini top had turned slightly see-through and heavier. It hid and revealed everything he wanted and more, leaving him a speechless, drooling mess - so much so that (y/n) had to splash a little water at her lover to snap him out of it.
"Come on, Ray! Get in already!" She teased, and finally, he shook his head and found his energy.
In the blink of an eye, he tore his tight, plain white tee off, thankful that he wasn't wearing regular jean shorts but Hawaiian-print trunks. They fitted his thick thighs perfectly, and she licked her lips at the sight of his toned torso, muscles flexing as he tossed the shirt onto a nearby chair, kicking off his flip-flops, too.
Given how he strutted toward the pool so confidently, looking like some kind of hot swimwear model, she expected him to stroll into the water with as much grace as she did. But no. This was Ray Manchester. He wasn't known for his elegance and finesse.
Instead, he took one look at the pool and made a split-second but vital decision. In a single step, he broke into a jog, hurtling toward the water before his sweet girl could scold him for running on slippery surfaces--or cannonballing a couple of metres from where she was. She squealed when the water splashed around her, a near-tidal wave curling over her body and dampening her hair whilst he sank to the bottom.
"Raymond, I'm all wet!" She shouted once he resurfaced, wiping his eyes and pushing his soaked hair out of his eyes. It was criminal to be so attractive, and despite her whiny tone, she still welcomed him into her arms, grinning when he grabbed her ass to pull her flush against him.
"You don't say... Just how I like you, darlin'," Ray smirked, earning himself a whack on the shoulder for being so smug and crude, but (y/n) had to fight a smile, too.
He held her close, thinking swimming wasn't a bad idea, when he stroked her bare hips and felt her hardened nipples rubbing against his chest. The weather was gorgeous, keeping them warm and happy as they kissed, content to stand in each other's arms.
"This is so perfect, doof... Don't you just want to stay here forever?" (y/n) asked quietly, dropping her head to rest it on his chest, dozing as he rubbed her back.
"Definitely, if I'm here with you," the hero replied, rubbing his cheek against her head and sighing. This was his idea of heaven, standing waist-deep in water with his nearly naked wife nuzzling into his chest. His words made her feel gooey inside, warming her more than the sun ever could because he knew how to make her feel special--as someone supposedly terrible with words.
"You know how to flatter a girl, Raymond."
"I'm being serious. There's no prettier sight than you..." Ray cooed, toying with the strings holding her bikini up, but he didn't loosen them - not yet, anyway. He was undeniably tender, soothingly rubbing her back as her face heated up; talk about a smooth operator.
"Aww, doo--" (y/n) grinned, smushing her lips lovingly against his skin as butterflies fluttered in her tummy, thinking that had to be the loveliest thing someone had ever said to her--a real confidence booster. But Ray being Ray...
"...Naked."
"You just had to turn it dirty, didn't you?" She asked flatly, glancing up to give him a dry look for ruining the sweet moment with his smuttiness, but his cheeky grin melted her anger. It was impossible to stay mad when he was so adorable, giggling as droplets fell from his nose and down his chest, shaken by his laugh.
He squeezed her hips, toying with her bottoms as he leaned closer, finding his home in the crook of her neck, where he resumed his seduction. If he couldn't have her inside, he'd change tactics, thinking it wasn't such a bad thing to try and fuck her on every surface possible. And that was no mean feat in a villa as big as that one.
"Oh, yeah... Although I suspect you had a trick up your sleeve when you chose this bikini, darlin'. If you could even call it a bikini..." the man grumbled as her that, laving over his hickeys, leaving a few more.
"Would you prefer I wear something else?" (y/n) hummed in a high-pitched voice, suddenly feeling needier than she expected, tilting her chin up to give him more room. Her pussy fluttered as his kisses quickened, darting up and down her neck as he kneaded her ass, dipping her fingertips under the sides to feel her slippery flesh.
"I'd prefer if you wear nothing at all..."
As the final growl left his throat, the cold pool wall met (y/n) 's back, and she realised that whilst he had her so distracted, he'd drifted them to the water's edge. It dug into her lower back as he curled over her, invading her space and pressing every inch of his body against hers. She could feel him against her hip, hard and aching as if he hadn't had any attention in weeks - a man lusting for her sweet little body because it had been two hours since he'd taken her.
"Look so hot in this, darlin'. Please tell me you have more like this..." Ray begged, dying to see her in more skimpy outfits - preferably ones resembling two strings and a label than swimwear.
"I practically cleared the store out, doofus. You'll get sick of seeing me in bikinis."
"Nah... they'll be the death of me, sweet girl. Had a heart attack when you stripped off like that," he confessed, although he got the hint that she already knew that. His sweet girl loved to tease him, and she knew his weaknesses, despite acting all innocent as he pushed and pulled her asscheeks apart, kissing her weak spots too.
(y/n) gasped dramatically--and not because of his deep, passionate kiss. She smiled against his lips, parting hers to allow his tongue to explore deeper into her mouth as his hand left her ass alone to settle on the edge behind her. He waded closer, grinding his hard cock against her stomach whilst she curled her arms around him, intent on teasing him more.
"Oh, well--might have to stop wearing, then. I'm not having my husband keeling over just because he got overexcited," she shrugged, standing on her tiptoes to match his height. She curled a strand of his hair around her finger where it grew longer at the nape of his neck and slid a hand down his chest, over defined muscles and down to where his trunks were tenting.
"You'll just have to walk around naked, then. And I don't mind either way, sweetheart..." Ray snarled, subconsciously bucking into her hand when she palmed his thick length, knowing what it did to him.
"You're insatiable, doofus."
"I'm not hearing any complaints..." You love this just as much as I do," he whispered, ready to pause at a moment's notice if she showed any sign of being uncomfortable, but his sweet girl was in his palm, lapping up everything he gave her.
She smirked against his skin, stopping a bead of water trickling down his chest with her tongue, throwing all of her earlier grumbling about not wanting to spend all day in bed. Maybe the itch had been scratched earlier, but now, she was hungry for him again. She was practically salivating when her fingers curled around his sizeable length, aching to taste him.
"I do..." she replied, pulling his shorts down, wanting to see her effect on him and show her appreciation for the luxury vacation he'd brought her on.
But Ray had other ideas; before his wife could pull him free, he pulled her fingers out from his swim trunks, briefly kissing her wrist before pushing it onto the warm concrete behind her. Another strong arm curled around her body, and he lifted her onto the ledge in the blink of an eye. He used the water's buoyancy to get her hips out and into the sun.
"Ray!" (y/n) squealed, holding onto his head to steady herself as the balmy air tickled her skin - not cold, but indeed a shock compared to the warm water. The hero grinned at her response, immediately latching his lips onto her hipbone, sucking a bruise over it as he drifted between her parted legs and encouraged her to lay back.
This wasn't how (y/n) imagined sunbathing on their vacation. Still, she did as he instructed, falling back onto her elbows as he toyed with her bikini bottoms.
"These are fucking tiny, sweet girl..." he muttered, appreciating how they revealed more of her curves for him to admire. Still, he instantly knew that if they were to go on the beach or any public areas, she'd have to wear something else. No one would catch a glimpse of his pretty girl looking so hot--and he knew he couldn't resist her walking around like that.
She giggled at his words and how serious his face looked--the same expression he made when reading something more complex than a nursery rhyme or a tricky math problem. Petting his hair single-handedly, she pulled his head closer as he stretched to kiss over her collarbones, clavicle, and bra. The water made her nipples hard, making him grin as he dragged his mouth over them, loving her whines and how she pulled his locks.
"Pretty girl..." Ray grunted, biting the exposed well of her cleavage as his fingers danced with the ties behind her back. One tug of the silky string and the top piece loosened, falling from around her neck and chest, exposing her breasts for his hungry gaze as he tossed it over his shoulder to land somewhere in the water - where, he didn't care.
"Gorgeous fucking tits--" he groaned, lightly slapping her perky tit, making her moan as it jiggled.
Kneading one in his hand like a stress ball, he leaned forward and pulled its twin into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the hardened peak as (y/n) jerked closer to the pool's edge, anxious to wrap her legs around his waist. Even the slightest touch made her want his cock inside her, pulling his body toward her throbbing pussy, looking for any friction as she soaked those bottoms in slick.
"Doo--doo--doofus?" She whimpered, tugging the hair at the nape of his neck to try and gain his attention - not easy when he could spend all day suckling on her tits.
"Hmm? What does my sweet girl want?" Ray asked, pulling away briefly when he heard that all-too-familiar, breathless tone she used when she wanted something. He quickly turned his attention to the opposite breast, not wanting to leave her other nipple lonely whilst she stammered to find the words.
"Pl--please, want y-your mouth..."
"You have it, darlin'..." he replied smugly when she clammed up, too embarrassed to ask for what he assumed she wanted. Sometimes, his wife could have the filthiest mouth on her, willing to do the dirtiest things when the mood struck. But asking for it? It made her cutely shy, and he loved it, wanting to hear her say it.
"Nooooo..."
"Ask, and you can have whatever you want."
"Ple--please...e--eat my pussy..." she whispered, face feeling like it was on fire because he typically spread her out on the bed and had his fill - no need to ask for it.
But sometimes, her doofus was a little shit, and I liked seeing her squirm as she asked for something forbidden. It wasn't ladylike to be so wanton and vulgar, but she didn't care when he grinned and instantly turned his attention south.
"Since you asked so nicely..." Ray beamed, looking like the cat who got the cream as he kissed her tits goodbye and trailed his lips down her soft tummy, aiming for his favourite meal in the world.
Her legs eagerly swished in the water as he took his time, nipping where he liked until he was shoulders-deep in the pool and level with her core.
"Lay back, darling..." he instructed gently, a big, warm hand pushing against her stomach to encourage her to shuffle back and settle against the deck. She did as he said, disappointed when his handsome face disappeared, but it soon went, moaning when his palms slid past her tummy and pulled her bottoms down in one smooth move. They disappeared into the water, floating away to join the bra, where someone, probably Ray, would fish them out later with a shit-eating smirk.
"That's it, pretty girl... Let me see my pretty wife and her perfect little cunt."
Content to lay there and sun herself, (y/n) sighed, closed her eyes, and let her husband do as he pleased, all warm and safe, while he groaned at the sight of her soaked folds. He couldn't wait to bury his face between them, pinning her thighs to the pool's edge.
Running a finger through her slit, Ray brought it to his mouth, sucking her taste off and moaning - it had been too long since they'd had enough time to let him feast. Between saving the world and losing everything, he'd missed the peaceful moments when time passed with him spending hours between her legs, eating to his heart's content without any concern for the world around them.
"So fucking wet, sweet girl..." he groaned, brushing his thumb against her clit as she whined into the summer air, head rolling against the stone.
"Please..." She whispered, cupping her tits and gently thrusting toward him. Ray didn't need begging, not when he was inches away from his heaven, so he held her hips down and hunched forward.
He nuzzled into her cunt, moaning at the heat surrounding him and how he could practically taste her on the air, wondering why he'd waited this long. A man couldn't live without her sweet pussy, so he didn't waste any more time, dipping his tongue between her folds to gather her wetness on its tips. Pressing it flat against her, he moved from bottom to top, licking a broad strip up to her clit.
His lips tightened around the sensitive nerves, gently sucking as the heroine wailed, entangling her fingers with his hair, wedding rings gleaming under the radiant sun. Replacing his mouth with a finger, he drifted down to her quivering hole, smiling when he found it as needy as always.
"Taste so good, sweet girl," the man moaned, taking his time with his tongue as it languidly reexplored her silky walls, dipping into the crevice to drink her from the source. Despite everything, honey always came to mind, filling his senses with the sweetest taste while she made the most adorable sounds.
"Make me cum, doofus..."
"Shhhh...I will, sweetheart. Just let me enjoy my time with my girl," Ray soothed her, pausing on her clit to paw at her tense stomach, relaxing the clenching muscles. She looked like a goddamn angel, glowing from a sheen of sweat covering her body, illuminated in the sun, making him feral--eager to corrupt her blissful expression with one of pure lust.
"She's fucking delicious..." The man muttered to himself, and (y/n) wasn't sure if he was talking about her or her pussy, knowing he loved to whisper its own little praises for taking him so well and giving him the nectar he needed to live.
After taking a moment to breathe, Ray dove back down, not gentle anymore, mouthing over her pussy with a renewed conviction - to see her writhe in pleasure. Though it felt impatient, punishing even with the little nips he delivered on her sensitive folds, the hero knew well what he was doing. Each strike of his tongue was perfectly aimed, flicking from her clit to her dripping hole, drawing patterns that unleashed new levels of bliss.
When he finally sucked on her clit again, she came apart with a deep, choked groan, body locking up as the first wave hit her. It was as gentle but relentless as the heat around her, making her skin prickle when Ray continued his onslaught, wanting to fight through her sensitivity to see her crumble.
"That's it, darlin'. Keep it comin'," he groaned, slipping a finger into her cunt, pumping it slowly, then a second one, building her arousal again as the duo thrust faster. She caught bits of his raspy praise between her moans and the buzzing in her head, making out words through the noise of vulgar suction and gently lapping water.
"Good girl...My perfect wife, being so good for me..."
Ray's fingers moved faster, disappearing into her molten core as he groaned, loving how responsive her body was for him. His tongue danced over her clit with broad strokes, suddenly changing into rapid flicking, forcing his free hand to hold her lower half down so she couldn't squirm from under him. When he pushed a third finger inside, her walls tightened, as did the coil in her belly.
"Ray!" (y/n) wailed, shuddering as she spasmed around his fingers, hands clamped over her mouth to try and stay quiet - just in case someone was nearby.
Her doofus didn't stop; he merely grinned into her cunt as his fingers pumped faster, moving his tongue over her clit at a blinding speed. Lolling her head to the side, the woman moaned - almost in discomfort - thinking she was beyond oversensitive and worn out for a final orgasm. She reached to grab a fistful of hair, tugging it to try and drag his tongue away.
"No, doofus--too much--S'too much..." She grumbled drunkenly, but Ray didn't stop - if anything, it encouraged him. He knew she had one more, so he doubled his efforts, quickening his fingers and creating a vacuum around her clit, sucking as if his life depended on it.
A growl left his throat when she tried to move away, sliding further onto dry land despite the scratch of the concrete against her back. Combined with all the other times they'd fucked in the last twelve hours, she was wrung dry, feeling like she'd cum more in the previous night or so than in the last few months.
But Ray wasn't having any of it, deeply offended that someone - even his sweet girl - tried to pull his pussy away when he wasn't finished eating. The beefy arm laid across her stomach and pulled away briefly to sharply spank her ass, slapping her thigh, too, when he pinned one to the ledge.
"I know this cunt like the back of my hand, sweet girl. Trust me to know when it's been fucked good and proper," he snarled coldly before affectionately nuzzling against her, happily smearing her excessive slick all over his face. His intense stare turned her body to jelly, going gooey against the ground while he returned to work.
The tip of his tongue gently slid down her folds, making her mewl when his nose caught her clit.
"And I think you can cum for me one more time..."
He was on her instantly, burying his fingers into her to the third knuckle with a new determination, smearing her slick up his wrist. A deep groan reverberated against her sensitive bud as he drank her, riding his own high as his favourite little snack turned placid, allowing him to feast.
His cock was aching for release, so hard it bobbed upright in the water and occasionally brushed against the wall, but he ignored it. Maybe if he was lucky, she'd blow him once she'd recovered, or perhaps, if he was really lucky, she'd allow him to fuck her tits, thighs, or cunt. But first, he wanted to see her wrecked - well and truly fucked out.
Ray curled his fingers, aiming for the soft, spongy spot deep inside her that had her undulating her hips in mini-thrusts. For someone who didn't want any more, she quickly became hooked, succumbing to her fate and seeking her next orgasm. Squelching noises filled the air, along with her wails, as her thighs began violently shaking beside his ears, keeping them toasty when they clamped the side of his head.
Her heart rate quickened again, rushing her blood in waves that crushed her senses with the pulsing sound inside her head. She lost recognition of anything happening around her. There was only the growing, almost painful pleasure, Ray's overwhelming, dominating presence, and the stretch of her walls as they hurtled toward the edge.
A broken moan of "Ray! Fuck!" broke the Hawaiian serenity as he pushed her over, murmuring praises for the convulsing girl creaming on his tongue.
Tears pricked in the corners of her eyes as he worked her through it, slowly pumping his fingers as she juddered, hiccuping into her hands. Slick covered his lower forearm and mouth, making him look utterly deranged with the glint in his eye. Still, Ray didn't care - he loved it, peering over the plains of her stomach and breasts to fixate on her tear-stained but gently smiling face.
Her cunt was ruined, a pinkish red and swollen, glistening and throbbing as his fingers slowly retreated. Thighs spread, chest heaving, tits slightly swollen with nipples tweaked still - she made a gorgeous sigh, softly turning Ray's hard, hungry stare for the girl who stole his heart.
"Beautiful..." he murmured, reaching as far as he could stroke her body, palming her chest and squishy tummy. To him, she was stunning - the most captivating person he'd ever seen, even with her scrunched-up nose, dampened hair, and marked skin.
Her whole body shook when he slipped his fingers out of her pussy. He memorised each part of her as he licked his hand clean, knowing he'd undoubtedly return between her thighs when the thirst beckoned again.
But for now, he'd give him some respite, cleaning the last of her taste off his fingers, going down to the last knuckle with a lewd, sucking noise. If need be, he'd use the memory to get himself off later, depending on whether his precious wife was feeling up to taking him or not.
"You're a menace, Ray Manchester..." Was the first thing (y/n) said when she came around, not knowing how long she'd been out, but she snapped into reality to the sound of her doofus whispering praises.
He chuckled at her sleepy expression, climbing out of the pool in one impressive leap onto the ledge. A shadow shielded her eyes and body from the blazing sun as he hovered over her. Cool, damp skin caused goosebumps when he pressed against her, cock prodding her thigh when he needily nuzzled her neck.
"But you love me, Mrs Manchester..." he whispered, sounding rarely vulnerable as a hand cradled him against her, craving his coolness against her scorching body. Remind him to slaver her in sunscreen later...
"I do...I love you so much, doofus."
"I love you too, sweet girl. Always have, always will," he swore, grinning under the golden light as his pure-hearted girl dozed beneath him.
She was always so precious after having her brains fucked out.
~A couple days later~
They had to leave the villa at some point.
Three days into their trip, Ray and (y/n) were still tangled in the sheets, splashing in their private pool or tanning on the sun beds. It suited them, not needing more than their slice of paradise to be content since delicious food could be delivered to the room, and Ray doted on his sweet girl. He satisfied her every need, but even paradise grew samey.
"Are you going to get ready, doofus?" (y/n) asked from the vanity unit, where she'd been sitting for the last fifteen minutes doing her hair. After eating in for the previous few days, nibbling between rough, passionate sessions, she was eager to see what the resort had to offer - a fancy restaurant.
They hadn't done anything fancy since arriving, and she was itching to show off on the man of her dreams' arm--that they deserved luxury too. The restaurant boasted five stars and four courses, meaning she had to bring her A-game - hair, nails, makeup, and dress done to perfection.
She was already reaching for her makeup bag, having washed and dried her hair and hung up her pretty dress. It showed off her curves, thighs, and cleavage--everything Ray loved to touch and look at--so once she enhanced her natural beauty, it was just a matter of hailing a cab and making their dinner reservation.
Although for someone who'd reserved a table - and paid a deposit - for a high-class restaurant, Ray didn't seem particularly fussed.
She met his eye in the mirror, pausing with an eyeshadow brush, dusted in a smoky shimmer, hovering near her lid as she watched him relax on the giant bed behind her. His large frame covered most of the mattress, stretching in his smart, tight black shirt and dressy trousers and resting against the pillows - watching.
His hooded eyes followed her every movement, scratching his pec innocently when she cocked an eyebrow at his lax mood. He hadn't quaffed his hair, done his tie, put on his jacket or shoes. It was decidedly un-Ray-like for someone who prided himself on his appearance, especially when he was following his gorgeous girl around like a lost puppy.
He just laid there, looking all cocky and hot, as he stared at his pretty wife, who was clad in no more than her best underwear whilst she painted her face.
"In a bit... I'm enjoying the view..." The hero replied, tucking an arm behind his head to prop it up so he could watch her better. It would take him ten seconds to become presentable, meaning he had a spare minute or two to take in her beauty.
Maybe it was the heat, the romantic setting, the high of finally marrying his sweet girl or a mixture of both, but Ray was insatiable. He couldn't help it, constantly seeking her warm, bare skin against his to satisfy his unending yearning.
It was tiring and always left them sore since their powers weren't back to normal yet. Still, the man couldn't stay away, crawling into her arms to fuck her over and over or eat her sweet pussy when she grew weary. And, bless her soul, his darling wife never refused, welcoming him into her bed night after night, although she insisted on tonight.
A romantic meal in different surroundings, and whilst Ray wanted her all to himself, he couldn't deny her. So, dinner it was...but first, he needed her again.
"What view? I'm not even dressed yet," (y/n) frowned but returned to her blending, brushing a soft, dark powder across her eyelids to create a plain base, focusing on her reflection rather than the pouty doofus behind her.
"Exactly... Absolutely stunning." That made her smile, bare skin warming despite the breeze from the open windows.
Ray wasn't subtle with his admiration, raking his eyes over her exposed curves and wishing he could get his hands on them. She seemed so far away, even though he was only a metre or so out on the bed, and he longed to drag her into his arms, even if it was merely to cuddle. He couldn't help it if he was in an affectionate mood - any man would be if they were watching an angel working their magic.
"How are you not exhausted? We barely slept at all last night..." His precious wife remarked, sounding slightly miffed, but her face was pleasant, giving away that she wasn't angry - more amused.
Ray dragged her to the nearest comfy surface to have his way every night- or even every free minute- whether with one of them on their knees or spread for the taking. Over and over, he fucked her senseless, never appearing satiated or exhausted, unlike her, who whined for mercy when he pushed her over the edge for the fifth time.
But he was shameless and undeniably insatiable. And last night had been no different. After a brief dip in the pool, the heroine wandered into the main room, wearing only her damp swimwear. She was looking for a drink and snack in the mini-bar when a strong arm curled around her stomach and pulled her against a toned chest. The rest was history, ending with her braced against the coffee table as he pounded into her from behind.
"It's the bikinis, sweet girl... Seeing your perfect lil ass walking around the place makes me so damn hard..."
"I noticed. I'm still not walking straight..." She replied amusedly, shaking her head as she smeared glitter across her eyes, recalling how her sexy black bikini had to be binned after he ripped it to shreds. She didn't hate it, given that she begged for more and initiated round two on the couch, but he didn't need to know that.
Even though he already did.
"Well, you were begging for it, darlin'. Screaming my name...so it's not entirely my fault," Ray smirked, feeling his cock twitch in interest at the memory of the previous night's activities. When she clawed at him like that, leaving deep, scarlet scratches down his back, he couldn't help but want to make the most of the night...
"Get dressed, you big doofus," (y/n) told him, rubbing a little eyeliner on her lower lash line. She hoped her disinterest would persuade him to wear his tie and shoes, but Ray yawned. Yawned.
It made her meet his eye in the glass again, wondering why he was so relentless, rolling around the sheets like a stubborn cat who wanted to nap and not be disturbed. She watched with narrow eyes, pausing her makeup for the millionth time as he sighed and ogled her body, seeming tighter in his pants than usual.
"Nah... I'm happy here. I think we should just stay here..." the hero groaned, the unmistakable heat creeping up his spine as he palmed his growing bulge.
She'd turned to the mirror again, ignorant of his arousal, so she didn't see how his eyes became hooded and hazy, darkening the more he touched himself whilst drooling over her pretty hips and tits in that lingeries.
"I'm hungry, Raymond," (y/n) said firmly, dusting her cheeks in bronzer and blush, noticing his movement out of the corner of her eye. But she didn't think for a minute that it was smutty. Usually, Raymond was more proactive, preferring her touch to his own. Still, he wasn't beneath dirty tricks - the dirtier, the better sometimes.
"I'll order room service," he counteroffered, thinking with his lust-addled brain rather than his heart. Of course, he wanted to take her out to dinner, eager to be the man on her arm as they entered the dining hall, but couldn't they quickly fuck first?
The more he rubbed his hand over his crotch, the harder he became, tenting in his fanciest trousers until his cock pressed against his zipper. Hot and heavy, a rumble emitted from his chest as his stomach fluttered, sights set on the reflection of her cleavage when (y/n) leaned forward to inspect her eyeliner.
He couldn't take it. He needed her more than he could put into words, and if she was busy, then there was only one thing for it. Ray took matters into his own hands - literally - as he silently unbuttoned his pants and yanked down his zipper, exposing his underwear just enough to pull it down and pull his cock free.
Taking it in hand, he gave himself a gentle pump to test the waters, his mouth falling open when it gave him the relief he needed. It didn't match her mouth or tight pussy, but it was enough for now, making him pliant and vulnerable, aching for his angel to take care of him.
"Touch that phone, and you'll sleep in the pool."
It was an empty threat as (y/n) knew she couldn't sleep without her doofus, but she certainly meant business. Nothing came between her and food, especially a four-course meal, not even her adorable idiot.
"Ugh...but darlin', look..." Ray complained, and she knew that throaty, whiny tone anywhere. Her gaze snapped to him, mouth dropping open and liquid eyeliner pen smudging a wiggly line when she saw the debauched sight on the bed.
It shouldn't have affected her so much, but she couldn't help it, not when he looked so...fucking hot. Head thrown back, chest heaving, pants undone, cock in his palm, Ray was a vision, moaning loudly now that he had her attention. His lust-blown eyes held her, groaning unashamedly as he jerked his fist, twisting his wrist when he picked up speed.
"I want you so bad..."
"Ray..." She said breathlessly, makeup forgotten as she watched with wide eyes. Her cunt clenched at the sight, gulping as his hand stroked over his flared head, the one she'd kissed and licked that morning to wake him up.
It's what he was thinking about, flashing through memories of her crying underneath him, of filthy whispers, of how they shared the gentlest, most peaceful high of his life earlier. He needed something to aid his pleasure, sensing how dull everything felt without her in his arms, her scent spiking his senses. Mere memory would have to do, although he refrained from stumbling toward a release, knowing his precious seed deserved to be buried deep inside her where it could perhaps take root.
"Why are you so far away, sweet girl, when you could be sat with me?" Ray cried, feeling like his darling girl was worlds away as he closed his eyes and bucked his hips - making quite the erotic sight for her as she studied every move closely. Licking her lips, (y/n) felt her brain short-circuit when he spat into his palm to lubricate himself, allowing his tight fist to move faster.
"I'm getting ready, doof. Can't--can't do my makeup on the bed..."
The words felt clumsy on her tongue, barely thinking as she focused on the glorious cock peeking out at her. Suddenly, she longed to taste it, going dumb and needy - a reminder of how he'd managed to seduce her so many times before. She could barely think, her pussy ruling her mind as it begged to be filled--to be taken as was her true purpose.
"You can... Just get up here and wrap that pretty little pussy around my cock. Make an honest man out of me," Ray replied throatily, jerking faster at the thought of finally feeling her heat.
He didn't need much, just a squeeze and a chance to make her cum, and he'd spill. And he could be good, keeping his hands to himself whilst she kept him snug and finished her pretty makeup. It wasn't like he had a track record of distracting her...
"It's all I need, sweetheart. Fuck--I just need to feel you around me. No funny business, I promise."
"It's always funny business with you..." (y/n) gulped, imagining hauling herself onto the bed and sliding down his thick length. She really shouldn't have been so needy and slick--should've been sore and uninterested after how many times she'd taken him, but she guessed her super-regeneration was returning, giving her the ability to take him over and over--and it never got old.
She knew where this road would take them. Ray didn't have a restrained bone in his body regarding sex, and he saw cockwarming as foreplay. If she sat in his lap, his hands would be everywhere, and she'd undoubtedly end up squirming, pleading for movement.
She really wanted that dinner...but she suddenly found herself hungry for something else.
"Please?" His begging was the final straw. (y/n) took one look at her forgotten eyeliner wand and then at her doofus, deciding on the spot she wanted his cock nestled within her walls.
She couldn't help it, not when he distracted her with the filthy, wet sounds of him fisting his length, tortured groans, and the whimpers of her name.
"We'll have to be quick..." she breathed out, hurriedly gathering every product she needed and dumping it in a flowery-printed bag. It didn't have to be neat or zippable, just enough to transport everything to the bed, which she dashed over to with an embarrassing neediness.
Ray smirked as she conceded and shimmied out of her soaked panties, glad he still held some power over her. It was flattering to know that she wanted him so badly--that he knew her well enough to seduce her, even against the temptation of food. He welcomed her into his arms, letting her back rest against his chest as she guided his tip to her dripping folds.
"You're--fuck--you're lucky I love this cock, Raymond."
"Feels good, darlin'. Thank you..." The man groaned loudly as his sweet girl settled against him, tipping her head back as she sank down on his cock in one smooth move. He slid in perfectly, filling her drooling cunt, making them both moan as Ray curled his arms around his wife, nuzzling her affectionately.
Her thighs met his, seating her against him snuggly like a queen on her throne. Ray didn't know what to focus on, touching and squeezing her hips, covered breasts, and sliding down to her pussy. He was in heaven, rolling his hips to push into her as deep as possible as he scented the perfume dabbed on her neck, taking deep lungfuls when he buried his face against her.
"Can I do my makeup now?" (y/n) asked breathlessly, thinking it'd be impossible to concentrate with her husband invading her senses.
He had hands like an octopus, occupying every inch of her skin simultaneously, making it impossible to want to stay still. She ached to move, rise and sink, spear herself on his cock, or let him rock into her - God knows Ray wanted to as he whined against her skin.
It would've been so easy to melt into his chest, be carried off on the waves of pleasure, and forget her earlier petty complaints about his insatiable libido. But one look at the ornate silver clock on the vanity unit telling her they had just under an hour before their reservation, and she resisted.
"Sure..." Ray smiled, settling into the pillows as he stamped down the instinct to pound into her. He was content to sit there as promised, gently warmed by her molten heat. He could distract himself with how pretty she was, watching as she did her makeup and trying to ignore how deep he was buried in her.
This would be interesting...
Resting calmly against the headboard, the hero lovingly stroked her hips as (y/n) finished her eyeliner, working with her shaky hands to draw the black lines. It wasn't perfect, but she didn't have much choice, putting the liquid liner away when she clenched around the cock inside her and found that it made her clumsy.
She couldn't concentrate, dying to move, but Ray's hand was firm, holding her still in his lap as the other gently squeezed her breast. Whether deliberate or not, it was maddening to feel him so deep, stretching her so deliciously, but he refused to move.
This was his plan; she just knew it. He was being clever, refusing to try anything because it was funnier to watch her struggle when she'd been all high and mighty about not fucking.
But she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of asking for it - no way. Instead, she picked up her mascara, unscrewed it, and brushed it through her lashes, ignoring the doofus behind...even if he was growing restless.
"This is nice..." Ray murmured as he kissed her throat, unbothered by the slick drenching his lap. He'd happily walk around with the stains smeared across his pants, even at dinner.
"Uh-huh."
"You're looking gorgeous, sweet girl..." He turned up the charm, snaking his arms around her tummy to cup her cunt - not moving, just holding it gently as she squirmed.
"Do you flatter all the girls like that, Raymond?" (y/n) asked amusedly, pussy fluttering when his fingers slid over her lips.
She was suspicious of his motivations, although the feral part of her hoped her pushed her to the mattress and fucked her properly. Still, she continued prettying herself, carefully nudging the wand against her lower lashes as Ray chuckled.
"No, just one..."
As if he would ever try so hard with another girl when he had his soulmate naked and creaming on his cock in his lap. He tapped his middle finger against her clit, highly entertained when she jolted at the stimulation and choked when he gave it an experimental rub.
"G-good..."
"She's beautiful...smart...and fuck...her pussy is like a dream," he sighed as he played with her, slowly circling her clit with two fingers--just because he felt like it.
(y/n) yelped at the contact, dropping the mascara wand in surprise, but she didn't care, not even when it created a greasy black smudge on the floral bedspread. Her breathing turned to panting when her throat seized up, blocked by a choked moan as he sucked her earlobe into his mouth. The hero flexed his hips when she melted into him, jostling his cock inside her as he rubbed her clit slightly faster.
"Just can't help but want to keep it filled with my cock...my cum."
"Y-you sa--said n-no funny business, doof..." the heroine moaned, fumbling to retrieve the mascara and safely tucked it back into the tube.
The look was almost complete, save for lipstick, but she felt like adding it would be a bad idea, given that she wanted nothing more than to smush her face into his neck and ride him. They'd end up smudged in red stains, not a good look when you're already fucked out from a rough, pre-dinner session.
"S'not my fault, darlin'. This pretty little clit looked lonely," Ray joked, biting her jawline as she moaned, grinding her hips into his lap as he stroked the sensitive nub. He laved over her skin, tugging her lacy bra down to reveal her nipples - desperate to pull and tweak them.
"I'm...busy." He didn't believe her.
(y/n) set her face in a straight line, trying to keep herself calm since she hadn't put on her dress, and he wasn't even close to being ready. But he made it difficult, squirming underneath her to move his cock against her walls whilst doubling his speed on her clit. She knew this would happen, but she only had herself to blame as she began rocking back into him.
"Really? Well, then, by all means, carry on, sweet girl. Make yourself look pretty while I'll make you cum," her husband suggested, despite knowing how this would end. He had half a mind to raise her body and pound up into or push her forward to press her into the sheets, but he resisted.
"Let's see who finishes first." He preferred the competition.
She whimpered as he circled her clit, giving her immense pleasure but never moving. He grunted quietly at how she responded to his touch, and the tip of his finger drew tighter circles over her clit, making it near impossible to argue with anything he said. He could've asked her anything, and she'd agree, instantly turning cock-dumb when impaled on his impressive length.
"Make me cum, doofus... Need it," (y/n) wailed, tilting her head until her lips pressed against the curve of his jaw while his hand steadily worked her pussy.
"Thought you were busy..." he replied cockily but rubbed faster anyway. He couldn't ignore her, aching to feel her heat tighten around him like he'd wanted all evening--ever since he saw her step out of the shower in nothing more than a tiny towel to cover some of her modesty.
"Ray!"
"But I suppose if my sweet girl wants my attention, she can have it. She just needs something to cum on, don't you?" He asked, chest rumbling as he rubbed impossibly harder, heat turning the room hazy.
"Yes..."
"You need my cock, don't you?" He asked further, bucking his hips in micro-thrusts as she tilted her head against his shoulder, feeling her high just around the corner. The pressure built slowly and then, all at once, spurred by the tiny friction in her crevice and his skilled fingers.
"Yes!"
"Then, cum on it, sweet girl. Soak my cock--let all those pretentious fuckers in that restaurant know who's my girl..."
Her body tensed and squeezed him, and Ray shushed her before she realized she was making those tortured noises - screams of pleasure as her cunt spasmed. His free hand settled tight over her mouth and guided her to turn her lips toward him, swallowing her wails with a filthy kiss full of tongue and teeth.
He licked into her mouth, tangling their tongues together to taste her sweet honey. As she came down from her high, her ass slowly stopped, ceasing grinding against his crotch as the first flutters of oversensitivity tickled her pussy.
Breaking the kiss, Ray buried his face into her neck and started groaning again, whispering low praises into her ear in his deep, rumbling tone, and she had to remind herself to keep breathing. His fingers enveloped her clit again, rubbing through her moans about it all being too much, cock throbbing hotter than sin, building pleasure into an intense, slow crescendo.
"Hmph... You come so quickly after the first one, darlin'. So...so fucking good for me...G-Give me another--s-squeeze me, pretty girl..."
Ray couldn't help but gasp and pant as he talked her through it, staying perfectly still while engulfed in her drenched, fluttering cunt. His hand fondled her breast for dear life, holding it like an anchor as he refrained from fucking into her. He was stimulated by the smugness of tempting her into his wicked games, knowing she was willing all along, yet he had to wait his turn.
His words pushed her over the edge, nodding pathetically as she followed his instructions--because she was his good girl, strangling his cock when he pulled her nipple.
She couldn't help but squeeze him tightly, digging her nails into the forearm stretched across her tummy--the one still playing with her folds. Her back arched against him, knocking her nose against his jaw when she thrashed her head from side to side, breath catching his ear as she convulsed.
"Perfect girl...doin' so well for me," Ray groaned, barely feeling the sharp claws leaving red crescents in his skin as she drenched his cock, soaking his pants and underwear even more.
"So good to me--to let me fuck you like this. Think you deserve a little more..." He said softly before rocking his hips into hers. The slight contact felt heavenly, leaving her slack-jawed and limp as he held her hips and thrust into her, creating a gentle, slapping rhythm against her thighs.
(y/n) leaned forward a little, eager to give him more room to manoeuvre. He grinned at her desperation, stroking his hand down her curved spine as he began pumping fluidly into her, already at the end of his tether after teasing her for so long.
The position - folded in half from behind - gave him the perfect angle to hit that spongy spot deep inside her. He pulled her ass into him repeatedly, lifting his hips to meet hers as she moaned and thumped her fists against his thighs, fucking strong and steady.
"F-fuck--fuck me harder!"
"I--I got you, sweet girl..." he promised, twitching faster until their bodies shook, covered in a sheen of sweat from the humid weather.
He was careful not to ruin her makeup but curled a hand around her throat and pulled her back into his chest. Their skin was scorching, and everything suddenly felt a little too hot, but the rutting didn't stop, shredding heaven inside her as Ray sank his teeth into her shoulder.
"Fuck, I'm gonna cum..." he grunted, licking over the bite mark as she whined, ready for his cum - wherever he gave it to her. She wanted that--feeling him engorging inside her made her cunt flutter again, signalling she was close for the third and final time.
"Give it to me, doofus--" she begged, clenching around him like God commanded, wringing her out until she gushed around him.
She couldn't fucking breathe—the pleasure was too overwhelming, her face was scrunched in painful pleasure, threatening to smear her mascara, eyeshadow and eyeliner with tears, yet his assault was still relentless. She could only close her eyes, furrow her brows, crack her mouth open to pant raggedly, and let him own her body as he pounded toward his release.
The heavy, wild thrusts stole every sense away from her, plunging into her ruined hole, shaky as he growled praises and curses--thanking those who gifted his sweet girl to him and hating them for not making him last longer. She didn't even feel him pulling out of her until a splash of hot liquid shot up her back.
"Fuuuuuuck...so pretty...perfect...love you..." Ray roared as he swiftly jerked his cock to completion, releasing over her arched back until she was coated in his pearlescent cum. He groaned as every drop erupted, squeezing the sensitive tip with the sight of her pink, puffy pussy to add to his pleasure.
"Oh, fuck...doofus," (y/n) whimpered as she bowed to him, happily accepting his precious gift, even if she preferred his cum inside. She knew Ray loved seeing her sated and claimed, smiling when she felt it trickling toward her ass.
Her doofus was an ass man, through and through. It ought to please him, and she hoped he was satisfied enough to make it through--for now.
"God--you look good all painted in me. Shows everyone who you belonged to." True enough, he squeezed her hip when he finally came down, breathing heavily, trying to catch his breath as he committed the erotic view to memory.
He loved seeing her like this, knowing he was the only one who did it to her--his signature would tell them to stay away, too. She nodded sleepily, reaching to rub her eyes before remembering they had dinner plans. Fuck, she felt like she could sleep for a hundred years and wiggled into his warm touch, barely finding the brainpower to reply.
"I think...I think they already know from the way you make me scream. I bet the whole island can hear me..." She said shyly, wondering if anyone lost on the beach or any passing worker heard them fucking--namely her screeching to high heaven.
It wouldn't surprise her, but the thought made Ray smirk as his hands explored her waist and ribs - avoiding the expanse he'd cum on. He wanted that to stay like a picture longer, even if they were still hurtling toward their reservation. And honestly, he didn't care if they figured it out - she looked gorgeous like this.
"True..." Ray grinned, eyeing her wedding ring as she clenched her fists. He knew it wouldn't ward off every fucker trying his luck, but it would do a damn good job. The symbol of his promise to her...
"But I love this...The prettiest sight," he said softly, swiping a finger through the mess on her back and bringing it to her lips.
(y/n) sucked it into her mouth without hesitation, groaning at the familiar, salty taste. How it made her sore walls clench again - Ray couldn't help but smile at his sweet girl. His sweet, greedy girl as she licked her lips and awaited the next blob, knowing he wanted to clean her up in the best way possible.
And not a drop would be wasted.
"We're gonna be so fucking late for dinner."
~
They weren't. Not really.
Well, they were late by traditional standards, but all things considered, the couple arrived at the fancy-schmancy restaurant in style.
Her hair and makeup were slightly ruffled and smeared, her dress was a tad rumpled, and to any observant person's eyes, it was clear what they'd done, not that (y/n) cared. She followed closely behind her doofus, wearing a polite smile, who looked worse than her with his rushed quiff, creased shirt, and crooked tie.
Ray was such a smug bastard, strolling into the joint like he owned the place and not like he'd had to dab his pants to remove the more... noticeable stains covering his crotch. He had no regrets, smoothly shaking the head honcho waiter's hand as he introduced his companion--his love--his wife.
They were escorted to their table with no witty comments or raised eyebrows - that's not how the hotel worked. They specialised in privacy, no questions asked, and (y/n) guessed they were used to seeing overexcited honeymooners smooching and stumbling from a quick fumble in the shadows.
"You look beautiful, sweet girl..." Ray cooed once they were settled, sipping a fine Cabernet Sauvignon.
He held her hand over the table, stroking her thumb and waiting for their first course of tadpole's eyeballs or whatever they served here. He was more of a burger-and-fries kind of guy, but if his wife wanted a romantic dinner, he would give her one.
"No thanks to you, doofus. You really did a number on me..." (y/n) replied with an almost shy smirk after putting her wine glass down, watching as he beamed and relaxed into his plush, velvet chair. He filled it perfectly with his bulky frame, looking like a king against the gilded background of red carpet and crystal chandeliers.
"I think you look even better like this. Look at the other people here...Do you think they'd ever fuck thirty minutes before coming to a place like this?"
She almost choked on her saliva at his hushed words, scanning the room to check that no one heard him. Talk like that would surely get them thrown out, but as she gazed at the crowd, observing all types of people, she realised her doofus had a point.
They all looked far too snooty to contemplate doing something immoral and raunchy. All the old ladies turned up their noses at the smallest glimpses of affection from the more lovey-dovey couples around the room, including them. Their husbands didn't spare them a glance, too busy on their phones or eyeing up the pretty waitresses to value their wives' company.
It was sad, but it reminded (y/n) of how lucky she was - to have a husband willing to deface his reputation just to show his love for her. It was sweet in Ray's own unique way.
"I suppose not..." she conceded, tenderly stroking his hand as he looked at her with those big, puppy-dog eyes, all attention on her.
It made her chuckle, thinking about their mad rush to get ready once the orgasmic haze lifted, patting down hair and cleaning clothing, making Ray so antsy that he nearly bit the head off of the taxi driver who came to pick them up. And luckily, it was the same plucky kid who'd helped carry their bags on the first night - the flirty one. The one her husband didn't like.
"You know, you've scarred that kid for life. He doesn't even know what thermoplasmic ultra detonator is, let alone how far you can shove it up his...you know what."
"He shouldn't have flirted with my wife," Ray shrugged, recalling how he grabbed the kid's collar and held him against the hotel's brickwork before he could say je ne regrette rien. He may have made a few threats, but he wasn't sorry, not even a little bit.
His sweet girl was angelic and unassuming, so she didn't see how that kid leered over her. While she saw naïveté, Ray saw impure thoughts with his learned eye. He was once a twenty-something-year-old - pretty girls are pretty girls, married or not.
"He wasn't flirting..." (y/n) insisted, knowing whether that boy tried it on or not, it wouldn't work on her.
"He said you looked pretty."
"He was looking for a tip!" She exclaimed, smooching his knuckles when her poor love pouted, remembering the memory with a sour expression and displeasure. Admittedly, the boy was a little too chatty during the ride along the bumpy road, but she could deal with that, even if she preferred to talk with her newlywed lover.
"And I gave him one. Come near my wife again, and I'll make your butt explode," the hero sniffed cooly before taking a large gulp of wine. He looked so handsome in the soft, warm light, making her tummy somersault and flutter when he grunted and frowned, roused by the helper's persistent flirtation.
"Oh, doofus..."
"And I think he got the message," he said, smiling when the memory faded a more positive one - when the boy fled with fear in his eyes at Captain Man's wrath and strength. He wouldn't be returning to their villa on any errands soon.
"I did, too. My doofus is as grumpy and adorable as always, and I have my hands full with him..." (y/n) cooed, cutely rubbing her nose against his palm as she lifted it to her face again - utterly besotted with her beloved doofus.
He smiled at that, stroking her cheek as they leaned in as closely as possible, ignoring those who cast a judgemental eye over their open affection. If they could, they'd be making out over the table, but this wasn't some dirty roadside diner; there had to be standards, so the rich folk would have to be content with their enamoured smiles and minimal smooches and think themselves lucky.
"You flatter me, sweet girl..." Ray winked, images flicking into his mind of her on her knees, wide, naive eyes looking up at him, mouth propped open as she prepared to take what she squeezed in her hands... No, not thoughts suitable for the dinner table.
"You make everything dirty, don't you?" But (y/n) saw through his smirk, practically reading his mind when she watched his gaze darken, fists clenching. Utterly shameless...and insatiable.
"Given the chance..." He grinned, kissing her fingertips under the gaze of a haughty lady a few tables over. She was probably just jealous and didn't deter his affection as he proudly nodded, unashamed to admit his lust and love for her - but he wasn't the only one.
"Although you're just as bad as me."
"My darling doofus, whatever do you mean?" (y/n) gasped, pretending his improper accusation scandalised her - that she was a lady of loose morals. She falsely clutched at her chest, where a dainty diamond pendant necklace that matched her earrings lay - a gift from her doofus for their last anniversary.
But her wide eyes and open mouth waylaid a dirty secret, known only by them as Ray gulped and stuttered, breaking his relaxed façade.
She'd slipped her heel off to wriggle her toes free under the snowy white tablecloth, hidden from the critical eyes around the room. Strangely, she wasn't usually one for teasing or public naughtiness. However, a mischievous mood swept over her, encouraging her to trail her foot up his calf, tickling Ray's skin. She had only just had him, yet his hunger had infected her, making her crave more.
"I--I mean, you're sliding your foot so far up my pant leg that you can count the change in my pocket," the hero gulped, eyelids fluttering as a groan lodged in his throat, provoked by how she rolled her toes over his pants' zipper.
Since when was his sweet girl so devilish? Her movements were oddly skilled and gentle, the slightest squeeze making him want to sweep the table and bend her over it.
"I was innocent of the world's ways before we started dating. Look at me now..."
"You've always shown a lot of technique for someone so innocent--Shit, you're killing me here, darlin'," Ray groaned, thinking they both came into the relationship with prior experience. However, he'd always been the more knowledgeable and experienced, leading her into pleasure-filled oblivion since she was more pillow princess than punisher.
Her touch was heavenly, making him shut his eyes tightly as she leaned on her elbows and fluttered her eyelashes. Her arms were tucked into her sides, pushing her breasts together to create a glorious path to her cleavage, and Ray couldn't help but stare. To onlookers, it looked like he'd banged his knee or something, and they'd never guess that the woman was making him harder than steel.
"Oh, you haven't seen all of my tricks..."
"Really? You fancy sharing?" He asked, eyebrows twitching in interest as she shrugged, acting like she wasn't alluding to something...sensual. He was more intrigued by seeing her in the throes of her passion than being teased so torturously.
"Husbands and wives shouldn't have secrets, sweet girl."
"Be a good boy and eat your dinner. Maybe I'll give you a special treat if you do..." (y/n) whispered, winking flirtatiously as she removed her foot, highly entertained when her doofus whimpered.
She grinned when his hips bucked in her direction under the table, knowing she only had to pretend to drop her fork to look underneath, and she'd see a rather large problem in his trousers. Or, she could slip under entirely when no one was looking; a carpet this plush wouldn't leave any bruises on her knees.
But no...she was committed to teasing him like he did to her; after all, it was rather sly how he seduced her right before dinner.
"You're offering me...dessert?" The man asked, his voice dropping a few octaves as he gulped, hoping no one had overheard their teasing conversation. He was down for that, dropping a few hundred dollars on the table and returning to their villa for something a little...sweeter. And it got even better when she leaned forward, narrowly dodging her wine until their faces were almost touching.
"Better than anything they serve here," she nodded, craning her neck to chastely peck his lips before sinking back into her chair and taking her wine glass. Ray's fist almost shattered his, needing a few large mouthfuls to calm his raging lust after being so riled up.
"Fuck me, sweet girl..." he groaned, rubbing his eyes while reaching down to adjust himself - conscious of how his cock noticeably pressed against his zipper--just as the waiters arrived with their first course.
He had no idea how to make it through dinner when she looked at him like that, already cursing his decision to let her leave his bed.
"Oh, I plan to, doofus."
~
"You--Fuck, sweet girl--you drive me insane--"
Those words were music to her ears, making (y/n) smirk in the warm glow of the porch light.
Dinner had been excellent fun--for her, not for Ray. He'd kept his promise and eaten his dinner like a good boy, albeit with a grimace facing like his fancy food was sour.
After teasing him like that with her slipperless foot squeezing on his cock, he'd slumped back into his chair like the brooding grumpy pants he was, conversing politely and sipping his soup with a dark glint in his eyes. He seldom lost focus, maintaining eye contact with his love whilst she explained an idea for them to go snorkelling with dolphins.
The actual eating part wasn't so bad; it gave him something to focus on, and neither could say it wasn't delicious. For a moment, Ray forgot about his raging hard-on and enjoyed the meal, liking how they could spend quality time together in such a posh location. His sweet girl looked so pretty, wrapping him around her little finger with every joke, anecdote, and plan.
But when dessert came, he remembered why he loved her--and why he'd wanted to sneak off to the bathroom earlier. The final course was a fancier version of chocolate-covered strawberries and ice cream, all whipped and shit to look better than it was.
But at its core, (y/n) knew what she was doing, taking a strawberry and a bite while holding his gaze. Her lips curled around the sweet flesh, licking lightly to mop up any scarlet juice threatening to trickle down her chin, and he couldn't help but follow her lips. Her sultry movements reminded her of how her lips wrapped around his--
He was forced to sit there and make her enjoy every last little bit. And (y/n) milked it, moaning at the sweetness of the chilly dessert and exaggerating how she bit chunks off the strawberries. He steadily swelled in his pants again, ready to pounce when she patted her mouth dry with a napkin and hailed a waiter for the bill.
After slamming his card down, Ray ushered her out the door, a hand strategically resting on her ass while they waited for someone to drive them back to the villa. Cut to reaching their holiday home after a very handsy car ride, and he was desperate, making his move once the taxi driver - thankfully an older gentleman utterly disinterested in flirting with his prettiest passenger - drove off.
"Doofus, I'm trying to get the--the door o-open," (y/n) said between giggles and kisses, her back pressed to the front door with a leg hitched over his hip as her lover frantically kissed her precious lips and neck.
He was achingly hard, prodding her hip as he growled and nipped a line down her throat, thinking more with his dick than his brain. The villa key was limp in her hand, almost slipping through her fingers as she pressed his face further into her neck, enjoying his touch.
"You little minx... Teasing me like that..." He grunted, palming her ass and breasts through her sexy dress. He felt like he was losing grip on his control, going feral when he buried himself in her soft body and sweet scent.
"I should've spread you out on the table...Fucked you right there--let them all watch."
"We both know you don't share, doofus," (y/n) smirked, practically feeling the possessiveness rolling off him. She loved playing this game with him, winding him up until his resilience was hanging by a thread. Usually, she relented after a little while. But not tonight.
No, tonight, she wanted to shake things up, and it started with her beloved doofus being good for her. And he was as he nodded furiously and smothered her against the door, blocking anyone's view from her lush body when he tugged her skirt further up her thighs.
"I don't. Shit--you're all mine, sweet girl," the man whined pathetically, fumbling to feel her silky skin under his fingertips as he struggled with taking her right then and there or taking her away from prying eyes.
"Even if you drive me insane."
"You love it--took it like a good boy," she replied softly, petting his chocolate locks as he nipped her neck and squeezed her thighs. He couldn't help but want to spread them and bury his face between them--perhaps let her sweet moans overtake the chirping crickets as the sound of the night.
But he couldn't. It wasn't appropriate out on the porch - where any hotel staff member or holidaymaker could stroll past their day. So, he decided to get her inside, preferably on their bed, where he could settle her on the plush bed and take his time. It was better that way and not a moment too soon - he felt as hard as fucking steel.
"Get that door open, darlin'. I want to fuck you."
"Ah--ah--ah!" But (y/n) stopped him, booping his nose with each abated word. She looked positively saccharine; her smile was bright and sweet while her hands smoothed down his jaw and neck with her usual tenderness and adoration. But her doofus wasn't having that...
Ray pulled away with a confused yet grumpy frown, looking at her like he didn't like what she said. He wanted her now, but she wiggled away, pushing her hands against his chest and raising her knee between them.
"Don't withhold this sweet lil ass from me--" he grunted, reaching around her body to try and grab another fistful of her backside, but she wouldn't let him.
In a shocking, daring move, his sweet girl circled his wrist before he could lay a hand on her, gripping his tie instead. She yanked the satin material, pulling him down to her level so their lips almost grazed together.
"Oh, I'm not, doofus. But tonight, you'll sit back, relax, and let me sit on your cock," she whispered, nudging forward to give him a ghost-like kiss--barely there, gentle, with a kitten lick of her tongue to make him ravenous.
It was like Ray's brain short-circuited, making him instantly submit to her as she curled his tie around her finger. He gulped at her pleased smirk, feeling his cock pulsate while processing what she was saying.
He could see it now; her above him, naked and glorious as she had her way with him. He'd be a fool to reject that. Ray wasn't so full of himself to think he had to take charge every single time, so he relented, resting his hands on her waist - a safe choice - as he awaited her first instruction.
"Does my pretty girl want to be in charge?" The hero asked, feeling his loins burn at the thought - it was rare to see her like that, although he had no idea what was in store for him.
"She does..." (y/n) nodded, tracing her nail over his expensive shirt as she fluttered her eyelashes, already feeling her underwear starting to stick to her thighs.
"So, you gonna let your wife have what she wants, or...?"
"Whatever my wife wants, she can have," Ray conceded gruffly, ready and willing to get down on his knees if she commanded it. Not yet, but (y/n) was biding her time, smirking as he groaned into her gentle kiss.
He followed her lips eagerly, swallowing everything she gave him as a hand slid to the front of his pants to palm his hard length. He hissed at her touch, feeling like a stupid teenager, ready to cream his underwear as she delicately bit his lip and pulled away, panting.
"Hmm... I'll remember that." With that, she grinned, patted his cheek, and pulled away, turning her back on him to put the key in the door and unlock it.
She pushed it open, waltzing into the villa like her husband wasn't lusting after her. Ray tumbled into the room behind her, subconsciously rumbling in his chest as he loosened his tie. The room felt balmy and warm, almost suffocating for him as he tossed his suit jacket onto the couch before storming forward to take her into his arms.
But he stopped, thinking better when she raised a finger - wait. Licking his lips in anticipation, Ray watched patiently as his sweet girl removed her diamond earrings and necklace, placing them on the coffee table before shaking out her hair. Next, she kicked off her heels, enjoying how she could wriggle her toes freely as she walked to the kitchenette, where they kept a bottle of chilly champagne in the mini-fridge.
"Sweet girl?" Ray asked tentatively, not wanting to step on her authority when it risked him getting some tonight. Still, he was confused by her lax attitude.
If it was him, he'd have her on the bed, legs spread, with his face squished between them, but he infamously had little patience. (y/n), however, had plenty of it, turning around to face him with an amused yet passive face as she poured herself a glass of bubbly--like she wasn't ravenously horny too.
"Yes, doofus?"
"Um...Are we--do you--can I...?" Ray stammered, suddenly all tongue-tied as she stood there, analysing him. He'd said the filthiest things, whispered the most vulgar stuff in the pitch blackness, but he couldn't ask. That would be...too much.
"Are we...what?" The heroine giggled, utterly amused by his pink cheeks and stammer, unlike the confident hero she knew and loved. She knew what he wanted; she wanted it too and craved his cock deep in her walls as he moaned beneath her.
"Y'know..."
"You looked so handsome tonight..." she murmured, ending his misery and sauntering to him.
She took a long sip of the champagne before stroking his chest, licking the expensive stuff from her lips. He blushed at her words, feeling all fluttery and loved as she pulled him into another filthy kiss. Her tongue swirled with his, allowing Ray to taste the delicious alcohol with her honeyed sweetness.
"Be a good boy and go lay down for me. I'll be there in a minute..."
She panted once they'd pulled away, connected by a small string of saliva as Ray desperately nuzzled into his precious wife. He needed her so badly with every fibre of his being, pressing his bulge into her hip as she soothingly played with the hair at the nape of his neck.
"Don't be long, pretty girl..."
"Ah--no demands, doof--" (y/n) warned him, wanting no orders from him when she ran on a confidence high. She would follow when she was good and ready - when he was squirming.
"I'm in charge tonight, so go to the bedroom, strip, and lay on the bed. But, uh...leave the shirt and tie."
"The shirt?... And tie?" Ray asked, glancing down at his black ensemble and wondering what she could mean. He knew she'd like it since the shirt showed off his muscly arms and lithe torso, but the tie? No idea there.
"What? They're sexy!" She giggled, smacking her lips jokingly at his broad frame, making Ray chuckle and shake his head.
But he did as she said, slowly undoing his belt buckle as he turned toward the bedroom. Brazenly, he stripped his lower half, kicking his pants and underwear into a corner as she watched with hungry eyes. His ass was so cute and pert--and she could only imagine his chiselled abs as he unbuttoned his shirt. He didn't shrug it off, sticking to her rules like a good boy.
The plan had been to drag everything out, make him wait, and go in to see her doofus wrecked before she'd even laid a finger on him. But (y/n) was needy, too, leaning on the back of the couch, sighing, and rubbing her thighs together once she was alone.
God, she wanted him, feeling herself soaking through her panties to the point where it was clinging to her thighs. The champagne took the edge off, gulping it down and pouring herself another glass like liquid confidence; it would loosen her tongue and make her movements fluid.
After a few minutes of sipping the bubbly, she knew it was time to go and see her doofus. He was probably dying in there, so tempted to touch himself, but he knew she wouldn't like that. And who was she to keep him waiting when he behaved so well?
So, she put the flute down and folded her arms around her back, aiming for the zipper on her velvety dress. It was a lot easier when Ray peeled her clothing off, but she managed it, twisting her body so she stood only in her black, lacy underwear. After their little...activity earlier, she'd changed into fresh panties, and luckily, they were one of his favourites.
Retaking her drink and spinning on her heel, (y/n) turned toward the bedroom, walking with a sway in her hips. Her bare skin prickled in the balmy air and Ray's stare as he came into view, waiting on the mattress as instructed. However, he looked maddened, eagerly sitting up when his goddess came in.
Ray gulped at the gorgeous sight she made, wishing he could relieve himself, even just a little bit. Yet he knew that wouldn't end well. Instead, the hero ended up ungraciously humping the air and groaning, ruined by the sexy underwear set she'd hidden under that damn dress. As if he wasn't hard enough...
"Fuck, sweet girl...look so pretty."
"Thanks, doofus. Such a good boy for doing as I said," the woman smiled, feeling beautiful under his reverent gaze as she sidled up to the bed, channelling her inner sexiness when she hovered at the edge.
"Mhmm--does that mean--can we--please?" The man bumbled, eyes glued to his sweet girl as her hands smoothed over her stomach, gaze flickering to the bulge in his boxers.
He was dying, craving physical touch, and it was almost impossible not to wrap a hand around himself. But he resisted, focusing on her sultry movements and how gorgeous she looked in those panties. His wife made him tongue-tied and blushy - it was adorable.
"Please...?" And (y/n) loved teasing him for it, admiring Captain Man in such a vulnerable position.
"Fuck me! Just...please, sweet girl. You know you want it," Ray pleaded, thinking she couldn't be serious as she stood there, looking all innocent with her hands on her hips.
He didn't know what else to do but tempt her, reaching to cup his solid length and squeeze it so she could see how the thickness throbbed--hoping the sight would be enough to get her in his bed. (y/n) wouldn't lie; seeing him palming his cock made her clench around nothing, tongue poking out to moisten her lips as she remembered how good he'd felt earlier on.
"I do..." she nodded, sipping more champagne before leaving the glass on the vanity unit so she could crawl up the bed. Ray's lips twitched in a smile, glad to see her approaching, but to his disappointment, she stopped halfway to lay between his lips.
"I love this cock..." the heroine mumbled with a soft expression, nuzzling and mouthing over his twitching length, loving it when her doofus threw his head back and groaned. It wasn't enough, but her touch provided some relief, leaving darkened marks where her wandering tongue swiped over the cotton.
"It's yours..." Ray choked out, fully submitting as (y/n) hummed, stroking his muscular thighs.
She moved on, kissing his hip bone before stalking up his body. The heroine paused intermittently to kiss or suck little bruises into his skin, paying particular attention to his Adonis belt, abs, and pecs. She couldn't say she didn't love his body, smoothing her hands over his arms until she was at his neck.
"Gonna ride me, sweet girl? I love seeing you bouncing on my cock..." he asked hopefully, tilting his jaw upward as she grazed her teeth over his Adam's apple and licked over his jaw. He entertained her desires, allowing her to take his wandering from her hips - where he'd been pulling her into his crotch - and pushed them over his head.
"Something like that..." It was cute seeing her grinning when she pinned his hands to the pillows, some master plan in her head as she kissed him. He had the right idea because riding him sounded perfect, but it wasn't what he probably imagined.
"But first..." Instead, she giggled to herself and snaked one hand from his wrists, leaving one near the headboard to keep his hands hostage. He could've easily overpowered her, but he didn't. He wanted to see how his sweet girl dominated him, thinking it would be easy to roll her over if he had enough of the teasing.
Assuming his sweet (y/n) wouldn't do anything bold, Ray just laid there, smiling happily like an idiot as her hand traced circles on his chest--before roughly grabbing his slackened tie. His eyes shot open, puzzled by the change of pace as her finger wormed its way into the loose knot, yanking it until it was one long piece of silk in her grasp.
"Wha--wh--what are you doing, darlin'?" Ray stammered, wide-eyed--almost fearful as (y/n) curled the tie in her hands, snapping the material to test its strength. It was good quality, sturdy, and hard-wearing, perfect for her plan.
So, with a smirk adorning her face, the heroine swiftly looped the silk around her doofus' hands, keeping them fixed to the rattan bed frame when she threaded it through the headboard. Ray's mouth bobbed as he tried to find the words. He was so utterly stunned that it was easy to hurriedly knot the tie in a Burlington bowline - easy, quick, and almost undoable.
It wasn't too tight, not wanting to leave raw markings on his wrists later, but she didn't want him breaking free, giving the tie a tug to double-check its security. He pulled his wrists, too, whining when he realised that this was her plan to give him a look-but-no-touch ride.
Could he survive that? Probably not.
"Remember this knot? You taught it to me just after we first met. I've been wanting to use it on you for ages..."
"Fucking hell..." Ray groaned, thumping his head against the pillow as he pulled and pulled, just to end up stuck.
He couldn't move, wanting to hold her hips or squeeze her tits, but he couldn't. All he could do was dig his stupid fingernails into his stupid palms, cursing the day he taught her to do a few knots. It was just a joke back then--something to make his pretty young helper laugh and impress her. He never expected her to remember his Scout's lesson and use it as...as...bondage.
"I want to touch you, sweet girl. You--you can't expect me to sit here and--"
"And what? Take it? Try it, doof. I'm Miss Danger. You're not getting out," (y/n) gloated, sitting back and admiring the picture he made - strong body flexed with his tree trunk-like arms straining against the unbuttoned shirt and fixed above his head, abdomen clenching and flexing under her fingertips, highlighting his hidden strength.
He was beautiful, but Ray wouldn't be defeated. It wasn't like he wanted to resist--lord knows he had her in the same position hundreds of times--but it felt instinctual. The guy was a superhero; when he found himself bound and helpless, he had to fight to get free. Otherwise, it was lights out, and he couldn't switch off, not even when he had a goddess above him.
"I'm Captain Man. I--I can--I can--I can do this--"
"Sorry, doofus. You know what they say..." But (y/n) knew him better, leaning down to pepper his neck with soothing kisses, ready to stop if needed. But she wanted him to settle down, knowing his ego wouldn't go down without a fight.
She needed to be smart, kissing up to his ear as he struggled underneath her. If there was one person who could quench that fire, it was her, fully aware that Captain Man could fight an army, but not Miss Danger's wiles.
"I'm your one and only weakness," she whispered before sucking on his earlobe, pressing her soaked panties into his cock.
"Fuck--" Ray swore, screwing his face up when she rocked against him, the seam of her underwear in line with his length, providing him with enough glorious friction to distract him from trying to escape - sort of.
He still wanted out, rubbing his wrists against the soft material out of instinct. Her hips looked perfect for gripping, practically made for his hands to hold as she ground against him, so he couldn't help but squeeze them. But he couldn't. All he could do was lie there and take it, watching with dark, hooded eyes as (y/n) buzzed with excitement.
She'd never had so much freedom - barely knowing what to do now that she had the Captain Man as her personal doofy toy.
"So big..so brave...but really, you're just my doofus," she muttered, trailing her tongue down his neck toward his chest as he moaned. He'd been hard since dinner, which seemed like a lifetime away now, and now, he had to endure such torture. He was gonna die.
"And I love how you melt for me."
"Oh, God, sweet girl..." Ray moaned in a high-pitched voice, surprised when his sweet girl pulled his nipple into her mouth, biting and sucking on the sensitive buds.
They were so sensitive, making his skin pimply and hair stand on end since he never noticed it. The sensation made him like steel, jumping against her slick slit as she tweaked one and worked on the other. God, she needed to play with these more.
"You're gonna be a good boy and do as I say."
"I am already, aren't I?" Ray retorted brattily, sticking his nose up childishly as her tongue swirled along his skin, hand dipping into the shirt to push it to the sides as much as possible. Yet she wouldn't remove it; seeing him tied up with the garment rumpled on his torso made her doofus look debauched.
Although, she wasn't too happy with his bratty attitude.
"Such a grumpy doofus--just because you can't get your own way," she pouted, pulling away to sit back on his cock, but she didn't move. He didn't deserve it, not when he was a sourpuss.
"I want to touch you," Ray grumbled, although he tried to look a little happier. He hated to rain on her parade, but she was his sweet girl - she belonged in his arms.
Still, (y/n) relented, thinking that her control didn't need to be mean--that wasn't her style. If her doof wanted something to do, she'd give it to him - something fun, something he could put his mind to, something that would put him in his place.
"Okay...you can."
"Really?" The hero asked, looking slightly surprised since his dominance was always his word, hand, and rules. He never relented, yet he didn't know what she had planned.
"Really, really. Stay there."
That was her little joke, eliciting a small giggle from the woman as her husband gave her an unamused look. He couldn't budge an inch, thanks to her sneakiness, making him whimper when she climbed off him entirely.
"No...come back. I'll be good--promise!" He begged like a child, jerking his head up until his chin pressed into his clavicle, watching as she hopped off the bed.
She laughed at the pure terror on his face but quickly showed him what she wanted. As pretty as it was, the underwear had to go, so she unhooked the bra, tossing it over his body as Ray wolf-whistled.
He never failed to make her smile, practically drooling as she kicked off the panties, too - what a shame he was bound to the bed and couldn't show his appreciation. However, when her love complained, she soothed his worries, clambering back onto the bed.
"You'll be good..." (y/n) muttered, poised above his body so she could slowly make out with him. Ray moaned into her mouth, enjoying her sweet lips before she pulled away, smirking.
"Please, darlin'...I need something."
"So much talking... I think we need to put that mouth to better use," she told him, finally seeing her doofus smile when she shuffled up his body past his hips, stomach...chest.
He knew where she was headed, head sinking into the pillow with a dopey grin as her pussy came into view, hovering over his mouth. Now, that was more like it, and he was already licking his lips, ready to please his wife as she got comfy.
Planting a knee on either side of his head, she angled herself over his head, conscious of not squishing him, even though Ray was already lifting his head to get closer. His fire had returned, spurring him to begin the moment her folds were close enough - he could see how wet she was, how fucking delicious she looked.
"Fuck, get those thighs around my head, sweet girl..." he groaned, wanting to feel them like ear muffs, pillowing him better than the duck-down behind him while he feasted.
"Less talk, doofus," (y/n) commanded, gliding her hands through his hair, pushing back the strands that stuck to his clammy forehead.
"You know what to do..." He didn't need anything else, deeply wanting to please her like he innately knew what to do. God, they should've done this years ago, providing him with the perfect job - fuck Captain Man.
He could've happily spent all day there, taking his first few tentative licks through her cunt to relive the fucking perfect taste. He nosed her clit, and closed his eyes, thinking he was born to serve her, to drink her down. He found his rhythm, still wishing he could touch her, but her silky flesh was enough to distract him, and he quickly learned to alternate between her needy hole and clit.
She moaned with a sweet smile, slowly grinding down on his face but never going further. Like anyone, she was terrified at the thought of crushing or suffocating him. She was merely bold enough to kneel above him, not truly sit.
And that wasn't good enough for Ray.
"Closer..." he murmured, resorting to asking since he couldn't tug her closer. She did as he said, thighs shaking from the controlled effort of lowering herself, even though this was supposed to be a tongue workout for him, not for her core.
And it wasn't nearly enough to satisfy him. His tongue could explore and flicker, but he couldn't fully swim, forced to merely dip into her folds because his neck could only stretch so far. Ray wanted to be overwhelmed with her, to feel her body pushing onto him, willing to drown him. He wanted her to sit.
"Sit, sweet girl. Wanna taste you properly."
"I am sitting, doofus," (y/n) replied absentmindedly, too dazed by his performance to care about whether she was truly comfortable. Her aching thighs and abdomen could be ignored whilst he sucked on her clit and fucked his tongue into her--it was enough. But not for Ray, who thought if they were gonna try it, they might as well do it properly.
"I mean, properly sit," he said firmly, knowing he could take it. He craved burying himself in her sweet pussy, wanting to feel her slick dripping down his cheeks and hear her moans like shouts.
"Who's in charge here?" The woman asked with a slight frown, tugging his hair a little to show her displeasure. It felt...good. He didn't need to do more, and she was still gripped by her fear of hurting him for her pleasure--she could manage like this.
"You, darlin'. You, of course, so fucking use me," Ray conceded, treading carefully around her dominance--her turn on top--but he wanted her to let go. It wouldn't be enjoyable if her mind was half-focused on something else, namely, trying not to hurt him.
But he was Captain Man - the mighty, indestructible hero. On his insistence, she lowered by a centimetre, riding his promise that he could take it. It helped a little, giving Ray a fraction of space to suckle on her folds, plunge his tongue deep inside her, and swallow everything leaking out of his sweet girl.
But it wasn't enough. The man needed the weight. He wanted to be buried in the pussy he loved, like he was in charge. As if he'd shy away from eating her out, he prided himself on practically living between her legs. It was his favourite meal, activity, everything.
Deep in his throat, he growled a displeased groan, which snapped her out of her pleasured daydream and back to him. Her pussy clenched - hard - reminding her how much she wanted his mouth on her to replace the emptiness of missing his cock.
She grew wetter from each tender stroke, throbbing so much it was almost painful as his tongue struggled to reach the places it usually did. He liked going from top to bottom, getting to all areas before making her cum.
Looking down, she realised he was staring at her with undisguised lust, burning through fiery discontent; she was his honeyed fountain, and he only wanted to dive in - as stupid as it sounded.
But, frustratingly, he was being held back. Blue eyes met hers, harsh but begging to give him what he needed--waiting like a good boy.
"What's wrong, precious girl?" Ray asked, sensing her hesitation. Despite what many said, he wasn't entirely ignorant of others' feelings, knowing there was something deeper to it.
"Hmmm?" And still, (y/n) played dumb, ignoring the heat on her cheeks as he stared at her, lightly licking just because he couldn't stop.
"If you're gonna sit on my face, sit. Don't tease me by keeping this pretty pussy so far away."
For a long minute, she didn't say anything. Instead, she released his chocolate locks to grab the headboard, sighing because she wanted to. Good God, she wanted to be animalistic--bring the same energy he did when he was in charge. But she wasn't...brave enough. Too many what-ifs.
"Okay, but just saying...If I, you know...If I..."
"If you what, darlin'?" He questioned tenderly, using his voice as a balm as he watched her squirm in discomfort--his most hated sight.
"Honestly, Ray...I can just hover. It's fine--" she offered, adjusting her position, shuffling her knees to lessen the ache in her thighs, meaning she was an inch higher.
His eyes darkened as he lifted his head, and even without his words, she knew what he was thinking--that she'd made a mistake. Wrong thing to say. And it was definitely the wrong thing to do—taking away his pussy after he asked to do his job. Even with her in charge, one rule still stood - no one took away his second-best girl.
"I don't want you to hover. That shit is insulting, (y/n)," Ray said in a severe voice - a rare thing. She gulped when her real name fell from his lips in such a deep grumble, letting her know he meant business whilst he was still brushing his lips against her drenched pussy.
"Sit, sweet girl. And when I say sit--" he paused to suck on her clit, stretching as far as his neck would allow - a long, hard bolt of pleasure that made her howl and jerk forward with a soft cry. At last, she was closer, wanting more.
"I mean, sit."
His head fell back on the plush pillow, welcoming her pussy into his mouth. Her lowered height gave him more room to manoeuvre, and he got to work instantly, clenching his fists when he lapped at her dripping hole.
"That's it, my perfect fucking girl."
"Oh, god, doofus--" (y/n) moaned, subconsciously dropping closer to his mouth--the source providing her with heaven. Heat pooled in her stomach, swirling in tandem with his tongue around her clit, and once he started, Ray couldn't stop.
"Suffocate me, darlin'. Drown me. Let me eat until I can't anymore. Seriously, if I leave this world with my face buried in your sweet pussy, then fuck yes-" he hissed, closing his eyes briefly while he imagined it--easy enough when her thighs clenched around his ears.
Man dead and sent to heaven. Drowned in honey. Wife left in bliss.
"Fuck--that's how I want to go, and you better not take that from me. Let me go out doing what I love," the hero rambled passionately, wishing he could hold her hips and pull her down, wondering how he'd never thought of doing it before. God, he didn't have to work hard - her pussy was all around him.
But he didn't have to wish; mid-rant, (y/n) slumped, slack-jawed and letting her weight fall on his face, so her doofus mashed his nose and mouth into her cunt. His loving words entranced and bolstered her to be more confident, rocking her hips into his mouth in mini-thrusts. It made her laugh breathlessly, thinking she'd never let him drown, but he could try.
"Play with my clit, doofus. Make me cum..." she ordered softly, still gripping the headboard, but one hand returned to his hair, yanking a tuft. And her doofus was only too happy to serve.
"Yes, ma'am..." he muttered, tickling her clit with the tip of his tongue. Usually, he'd have the added benefit of his fingers knuckle-deep in her cunt, but he was up to the challenge. He balanced giving attention to her sensitive bud with his prominent nose to place his tongue at her hole, smiling as he teased it.
"Finally, a decent fucking meal..."
He devoured her, his dexterous muscle plunging into her in place of his thick finger. It channelled her juices down his throat, happily swallowing her honey-like taste as he nuzzled silky flesh like a comfort blanket. He was fucking home, moaning obscenely as her pure essence got him off.
"Shit, Ray--don't stop--right there--" his angel cried, riding his face as he groaned, wanting more of everything - her slick, moans, movement, love.
His tongue quickened against velvety walls, thrusting slowly in and out of her hot cunt as she descended in sensual rolls. Her head tilted back, eyes closed as she whimpered, knowing her end was close when electricity raced down her spine.
"Good girl. Let me have it, darlin'. Use me."
"Don't stop--so fucking close--" Ray never would, enjoying himself too much to angle his face away from his feast. His tongue rubbed against her walls, smearing his face with arousal as she released a strangled cry.
A strong urge overwhelmed her, like a lightning bolt surging down her spine, as she moaned and shook around his head. He felt her orgasm before it came, grinning into her folds as she clenched around his tongue, releasing a wave of juices into his mouth.
"Fuck--Ray!" (y/n) cried as she came, her orgasm uncoiling as he drank everything, licking and sucking non-stop until she collapsed on the headboard. Her hand needed to hold something else; he'd be bald if she kept holding his hair.
Little moans left her mouth as she swayed, not knowing when to stop as he kept going. He loved the sensation of her walls twitching on his tongue, lost in her sexy sounds as his strong arms pulled at his bonds. He was gonna touch every inch of his wife when he was free.
Eventually, though, it was too much, and she lifted herself away when his touch turned torturous--much to Ray's disappointment. Still, he placed a final kiss on his pretty little girl, thanking her for the drink as (y/n) shuffled back to sit on his abs, spent and stayed - for now.
"Good?" He asked with a smirk, knowing his lower face from his nose down was utterly drenched, and he didn't care. That's how he liked to see his precious wife - smiling and glowing after he'd pleasured her, not wondering if he could handle her. He definitely could.
"Very good, doofus--haven't cummed like that in ages. We should try it again..." (y/n) replied breathlessly after a few moments, needing to settle on his stomach for a moment to regain her strength and thoughts.
She'd lost her authority for a moment, but that was okay. Power and dominance didn't come naturally to her. Still, they enjoyed themselves, coming out the other end sweating, panting and smiling. Some more than others...
"Imagine how it'll be when I'm on my full game. Untie me, sweet girl, and I'll show how good it can be," the hero gloated, gesturing to his hands as she giggled and shook her head, thinking of a million more games she wanted to play.
He was cocky, but she loved that, already clenching again at the thought of him with all his assets available. Stroking his chest, she leaned down and kissed him, turning tender in her post-orgasmic glow, softly making out with him like they had all the time in the world.
"Next time, my love..." she promised, rocking her soaked pussy against his abs, loving how the chiselled grooves provided her with gentle friction. Maybe, if he was lucky, she'd clean off her slick with her tongue later, but before that, she had a bigger issue. One that must've been agony for her poor baby.
"First...we need to take care of this."
"Uh..." Ray gulped, suddenly going from cocksure to silent, a faint pink blush dusting his cheeks as (y/n) reached behind her to cup what she smugly assumed would be his raging hard-on.
She expected to find him stiff and throbbing, her fingers itching to grasp his cock and perhaps tease him a little more, but that's not what she found. Instead, her fingertips touched something moist and sticky, making her eyes widen, and her head whip around to see something unexpected - yet highly amusing.
A stain marked his underwear, seeping through the black material to make it even darker. It took her a moment to figure out - feeling a little dumb after such a powerful climax that she couldn't put two and two together.
But then it fell into place, and she broke out into a grin, realising that this man - the man who could fuck her for hours without breaking a sweat, enduring her countless orgasms - had cummed early. Without so much as a squeeze on his cock. The power of her pussy got him off like her pleasure was his--and it was a fucking high.
"Raymond...did you cum just from eating me out?" (y/n) asked, looking like she'd won the lottery as she brought her hand to her mouth, tongue darting out to taste the faint traces of his cum.
He smiled shyly, looking anywhere but her face because it was a little embarrassing--he was as in love with her pussy as he was with her. Everything about the experience made him lose it; from the bondage to her intense climax, it was so hot to him, even though he'd wanted to hold out a little longer.
And he was afraid to admit it once his cheeks cooled down.
"It's like I said, pretty girl. Let me go out doing what I love..."
~Days later~
The sun's rays painted them golden as Ray and (y/n) strolled down the beach - their beach - hand in hand.
They'd been on the island for a week or two, the days and nights blurring together, but it felt like forever. Everything was perfect - mornings spent in bed, afternoons with the knowledgeable locals, and evenings like this...
Ray felt like he was walking on air, not sand, nose full of sea salt and eyes glued to his sweet girl as she excitably recalled snorkelling with a plethora of life in the warm sea. He'd never known what it was like to relax truly, but walking the deserted shoreline taught him something.
He could happily spend the rest of his life there with her, fuck everything, and sleep under the stars with his wife without returning to the stresses in the city. She looked happy, squeezing his hand as they dodged the gently lapping waves creeping up the sand.
But how could she not be happy?
Her doofus could take her hiking, swimming, painting, dancing, and dining; none of it would measure up to this simple thing. It didn't require money, big words, or their fanciest clothes - just their time. And they had that for once. Enough time to fulfil a little dream of hers. Not a big thing, but something she would choose over anything - it meant the world.
If there was one thing she'd always wanted to do, it was this. A walk. On a Hawaiian beach. At sunset. The dream she'd always dreamed of but could never do.
It wasn't much, but it didn't need to be; his company was enough - like it always had been. (y/n) wore her cutest sundress, keeping her jewellery inexpensive but sentimental - the sweetheart necklace from their anniversary, her grandmother's earrings, and, of course, her wedding rings. Everything screamed love and eternity, looping back to the man who made her dreams come true.
It was one thing to want to watch the sun go down by herself, but to share it with someone else? They'd have to be pretty special in her books, and he was - standing there in his partially unbuttoned white shirt and jean shorts.
When she felt swept away by it all - the overwhelming joy of being in dreamland - he anchored her. And she loved that. Loved him.
To live her dream with the man she loved would forever be etched in her memory. The roughness of the sand, the tumbling heat, the glow around the beautiful scenery - the ocean. She'd always loved the sea, which seemed silly for someone who'd always lived in bustling, overcrowded cities. Why long for something you can't have?
It became even more challenging when she began picturing Ray beside her--as if her boss would ever want to traipse across the country for something she wanted. She hated herself sometimes, thinking he wanted more just to be shot down. Hawaii was so far away, but the distance made her grow fonder -- and Ray, too.
Her dream became his, taking the idea of a beach at sunset and running with it after she timidly shared it one night while watching one of her rom-coms. Suddenly, he was there too, dying, begging, wishing to be the man she'd trust to carry something so precious. But the hero thought he'd never have the chance, left to scavenge scraps like when he faked a beach in the Man Cave just to catch a glimpse of true happiness.
He never thought he'd see it for real, yet her smile was worth waiting for.
"It's nice here," Ray mentioned, kicking a tiny pebble into the water as they roamed paradise.
Nice was an understatement, given that the scenery was like something out of an oil painting. If it wasn't for the angel next to him, he'd be unable to tear his eyes away from the pinks, purples and oranges of the sky, turning the palm trees black and the sea a deep violet.
"It is... It's beautiful," (y/n) nodded, squeezing his hand as she hugged his arm and grinned, not wanting to be separated from her husband for a second.
She was taken by the island's magnificence much more than he was, meaning she didn't see how Ray stared at her. Her bright smile entranced him, and he hung on to her every word and giggle like music to his ears. And that dress... he'd never seen someone so adorable.
"Yeah...you are."
"I was talking about the island, Raymond," the heroine corrected him dryly, thinking her loveable idiot had left his mind in the gutter again. He was probably thinking about her nakedness or some other smutty thing, so when she glanced up to give him a pointed look, she was surprised to see his gentle eyes and even gentler smile.
"And I was talking about you. This view has nothing on you, pretty girl," he cooed, bringing her knuckles to his lips as she stared at her bare feet.
It was always difficult to respond when he was so damn romantic, making her swoon and feel like the luckiest girl in the world. She felt like the heroine in some epic tale, and he was the strapping guy written to save her heart. Her heart pounded in her chest, beating stronger with each loving word, and Ray had no plans on stopping.
"You sound like one of my rom-com characters, you silly doofus," she giggled, wondering if all the movies they'd watched had rubbed off on him, even though he was invariably snoring by the time the big confession rolled around.
"That's the plan. I know you love those mushy characters."
It was true. (y/n) loved her sentimental movies, the ones where a bad life became good through the power of love. A very cheesy notion, but it always worked out for them, and the lead girl always got her man, just like she did. God, her life felt like a novel sometimes...
But her doofus was real, insisting he walked nearest the sea when she complained about the wet sand sticking to her feet. He took the brunt of the waves and listened to her like her words were gospel, not just some funny anecdote about a girl she knew at college once.
Denza...something.
Her viewing and reading only got so far as soothing her lonely heart, pointing her toward a real-life hero with arms like tree trunks and a football-sized heart--with an ego to match. She loved the escapism of Christmas films and steamy vampire romances. Still, it was nothing compared to her heart-pounding, toe-curling, gut-clenching love for Ray.
"Not as much as you. Fiction has nothing on my doofus--he's better than movies and books."
"That's a goddamn badge of honour, sweet girl. I'm flattered..." The man laughed heartily, thinking he'd never be as perfect as all the floppy-haired schmoozers in those films. Such movie guys wore red flannel shirts and loose scarves and always met their soulmate by spilling coffee on her. At least when they met, the coffee was already spilt...and there was an unconscious criminal.
They fell silent for the next few minutes, with Ray wearing his badge of affection like the grin on his face - brightly and proudly. Walking a little further, (y/n) suddenly felt a little emotional, knowing she had the sand between her toes and the ocean to her right like she'd always imagined. But it wasn't those things that made it special; it was her love - her sweetheart of a husband.
"Thank you, doofus." It came out like a whisper, her voice breaking as she hugged his arm tighter, trying not to cry. She'd forgone makeup, going all-natural since it was just them, so there was no artwork to ruin. Yet it felt wrong to shed tears; this was her happy place, where some of her most cherished memories would form, starting now.
"For what, sweet girl?" Ray asked softly, stopping their amble to turn and gather her in his arms. Her tears and sniffles spooked him, making his chest clench in worry.
"For bringing me here. For this vacation. For marrying me. For everything," (y/n) replied quietly, snuggling into his chest and tucking his nose against the sliver of skin exposed by his open shirt. Like always, he looked hot; sleeves rolled up his forearms and thighs exposed in those shorts--that should've made him cry, how gorgeous he was.
However, she showered him with praises and heaped them onto her doofus for treating her like a queen. It felt like more than she deserved, although Ray was quick to argue, pushing her hair out of her face before fondling her cheek, thumb brushing her bottom lip.
"You know that I'm bigheaded..." he started, a rare display of self-effacement for one who often tooted his own horn. No one knew that better than (y/n), who giggled through her blurry vision and nodded, shoulders shaking mirthfully.
"Oh, God, yes..."
"But I can't accept credit for this, darlin'. This is your dream. Your beach. Your sunset. I wouldn't be this happy without my wife, so I should thank you."
"And I'm sharing it with you, doof," she argued gently, reaching up to cup his cheeks as Ray looked down. He made it sound like he was an intruder, destined to observe as she lived her dreams merely, but she didn't want him to think like that.
It threw her back to simple, if lonelier, times when Hawaii was a retirement plan. It was not somewhere she ever expected as a honeymoon destination because her heart belonged to a man she couldn't have. But it all changed one evening after another crazy day in their hectic lives when Ray pushed aside that ego and showed his golden heart.
"Remember when you brought Hawaii to the Man Cave? Ice cream, Piña Coladas, TV?"
"You mean when Schwoz thought the world was about to end because of a supervolcano?" The man laughed, remembering that day like the back of his hand. He danced with her, fully expecting to lose everyone he loved, and still, he didn't have the balls to tell the love of his life how he felt.
He didn't know why that was relevant, save that it was a small token of his love to make her smile. Looking back, it had been lovely, just two friends dancing around their feelings after the drama died. Still, he regretted it to that day that he didn't share his love that night after thinking he'd never see her again.
"Yeah... Remember I wanted to tell you something?"
"Vaguely..." he nodded, reverting to that fateful evening. It was dark and cosy - purely romantic, not that he'd admit that. But once the ice cream had gone, they'd snuggled in to watch the 'sunset'; he remembered how she'd gone to speak, only for Schwoz to interrupt. He never found out what that fuzzy little weirdo interrupted, but now, he had an idea...
"I wanted to tell you I loved you right then and there. Two years before I actually did...and you know why?" (y/n) whispered, still feeling the same butterflies from all those years ago.
"Why?"
"Because at the end of all things, you didn't do something for yourself. It was for me. My silly dream... And I knew that if I ever got to do it for real, I wanted you to walk that beach with me."
"Sweet girl..." Ray choked up, amazed that such a small, shitty, unplanned night had impacted her so much.
He didn't think much of it since it was before he could truly show her how he felt because, really, what was a fake sunset compared to a real one? And that hadn't even been his idea, so he didn't count it as a genuine gesture, not when he'd pull the moon and stars from the sky if she asked for them.
"You have no idea what I'd do to make you happy. Just to see you smile..." the hero whispered, eyes crinkling and watering as he smiled, filled with a pure, light emotion he'd long sworn wasn't for him. For years, he'd sworn off love, thinking he didn't deserve it when he messed girls around, hurt people--cheated people. But he felt it for her, and it felt right. Like he deserved it.
"And you're here, doofus. I'm happy. I married the man who makes me happy--who made my dreams come true," (y/n) giggled, thinking she was the luckiest girl in the world as she stopped walking and brushed away his tears with her thumbs.
Ray felt the cool metal of her rings against his skin and closed his eyes slowly, swearing that she wouldn't be there when he opened them. It felt like a fantasy: marriage, love, family, having a home, but his senses said otherwise; he could feel the gentle breeze on his legs, hear the ocean's roar, smell the salty air, and taste her lips on his. Her love grounded him, and when his eyelids fluttered open again, she was still there, smiling, golden, and beautiful.
"I wanted to marry you even back then. Never thought I would. That was my dream."
"I guess both our dreams came true, then..." she replied softly, calming his fears with the touch of her hand sliding down his chest.
Ray nodded, holding his beloved wife close as the sun warmed their skin, dipping further and further until it would inevitably have to say goodnight. The chillier the air grew, the more (y/n) used it as an excuse to snuggle closer - wearing such a thin dress had been a wise trick.
"They did..." her doofus smiled, watching as she paused from their intimate embrace to crouch down on the smooth, moist sand. He didn't understand what she was doing until she began swirling her finger through the ground, drawing her runes on the blank with a cheeky smile as her lover waited to see what it said.
(Y/N) + RAY 4EVER
He chuckled as she drew a large heart around it before standing back to admire her scrawl. The water would naturally wash it away, and whoever took the beach after them would never know they were there - the downside to such a private resort - but they treasured it, knowing their love would stretch far beyond the vacation, the island, their born days.
"I will, you know..." Ray muttered as he welcomed her back into his arms, not liking how she'd left them, even if it was for a moment. They kissed again before (y/n) pulled back with a confused face, wondering what he could mean when she'd merely defaced the sand.
"You will what?"
"Love you forever. And ever. And ever...and ever," the man smiled dopily. He'd always wondered if the feeling in his heart would ever go away as everyone said it would- like he was flying and falling into fluffy clouds, rainbows, and all other cosy things. It had been years, but he still felt the same, knowing he'd know her face, laugh, and smile through all his days, not just in the 'honeymoon' phase.
Yeah, that feeling was never going away.
"Ray?" (y/n) spoke up, stretching on her tippiest toes to softly smooch his lips.
He hummed into her mouth, feeling his love, yearning, and hunger for her soul, body, and mind as he hunched over her frame. They fell to the sand, relieved to find it powdery and dry since they'd edged further up the beach. He found her lips again, coveting her kisses as the sun dipped below the horizon, turning a deep, burning orange.
"Yeah, darlin'?" Ray mumbled, finding his place between her legs as she relaxed against the dune, head tilted back, accepting his affection on her neck.
"I know what my next dream is..." she told him quietly between ragged gasps and swallowed moans. It didn't take much thinking, knowing instantly what she wanted, even in the half-minded state he'd reduced her to. However, it still surprised her doofus enough to cease his ravenous exploration.
"Already?"
"Mhmm..." she nodded, leaning on her elbows to push the hair out of his eyes as he stroked her bare knees.
"Tell me, sweet girl," Ray ordered softly, already planning on maxing out his credit card, ruining his reputation, and sacrificing everything in his name to make her happy. He'd make whatever she wanted to happen happen, swearing on the ring on his finger that she'd never want for anything.
But it was much simpler than that. As lovely as they sounded, (y/n) didn't crave riches, fame, or glory, nor did she want him to break his back with some far-fetched quest. She just imagined them returning to this beach; only when they did, it would be different. A lot different, if she had anything to say about it, knowing life wouldn't be the same when they went home.
"The next time we come back here, we'll have kids. And we'll be living happily ever after."
"That your dream or mine?" The hero joked but intertwined his hand with hers, pressing their wedding rings together. He couldn't think of anything more perfect, which showed in his smile.
"Our dream," his sweet girl whispered and grinned, wondering when their dreams merged, but she was so glad they did. He was her life now, their fates inextricably woven together, and she couldn't wait to see where it led them. It had only taken them thirteen years to get this far, but she didn't mind waiting again. She'd stay forever...
"Ours..." he nodded, kissing her glinting rings as he returned to the crook of her neck, hands sliding under her skirt and up her thighs, where he'd find her bare and shivering. Both knew where this would lead, their lovemaking covered by the crickets' song and the ocean's rumble as the moon took its friend's place, shrouding them in a different light.
New light, new beginnings, same love.
"I love you, (y/n) Manchester. I always have, and I always will."
~A few weeks later~
Paradise couldn't last forever, not even if Captain Man tried to stretch for a few more hours. Ray and (y/n) waved goodbye to their beloved villa, island, and vacation after three weeks of uninterrupted bliss. They were sad, of course, tearfully making love for the last time in the bed, pool, beach--wherever Ray could find since he didn't want to go.
He liked it there and didn't want to return to the humdrum stresses of his daily life despite having an enviable career, a gorgeous wife, and a newly purchased home.
The Man Cave was gone, as confirmed when they stepped off the plane. It was a total wreck and utterly unsalvagable, meaning (y/n) swore they were homeless while Ray called Schwoz to pick them up. But, as always, the hero had a trick up his sleeve, treating his queen to a new palace on top of a mountain, of all places. He'd left everything in Schwoz's capable hands, purchasing both a school and headquarters for their personal and professional lives.
How could (y/n) forget? They had new blood to train, youngsters with uncontrollable superpowers, and the city's superheroes refused to let them return to normality. It was too late for them to just go about their business like the Omega Weapon hadn't zapped them, so they summoned Mila, Miles, Bose, and Chapa to their new venture. A school, or SWAG, as Ray called it - The Swellview Academy for the Gifted.
She didn't know how to feel about it all, having only just gotten to grips with their new home and job titles when their new students enrolled, eager for a tour of their school. Her? A teacher? It seemed silly because (y/n) still felt like a student, a mere sidekick to Captain Man, who had much more experience and suitability to train a new generation of heroes. But Schwoz convinced her, saying she had skills Ray couldn't dream of--and he'd go insane if he had to live alone with him.
So, it was decided. In the day, they would be Mr and Mrs Manchester, professors at Swellview's newest top-rated education facility. By night, they would go upstairs, where a squeaky new hideout waited for them.
She missed the Man Cave, but the Man's Nest was just as good, spanning hundreds of rooms, all of which her doofus couldn't wait to christen. He knew that this was where their family would begin again, whether with the gaggle of children running behind them or with a babe of their own.
He couldn't wait for a peaceful life with his newly-wedded wife...although peaceful wasn't quite the right word.
"Stop it, Raymond!" (y/n) squealed as the man behind her pinched her ass - a shocking move when they were in public view outside their new front door. He didn't care, lovely patting his favourite feature as his other hand snaked around to cup her breast, squishing her body to his as his sweet girl tried to maintain some semblance of respectability.
"Why?" Ray grinned, loudly smooching his wife's neck as she squirmed. He could see her smile through her attempts to remain dignified, and it spurred him further, burying his face in her sweet-smelling skin despite their nearby guests. He'd been like this since they came back - extra affectionate, even in front of the most undeserving people, who needed their eyes to bleach afterwards.
"The kids will be here any second!"
"They're with Schwoz..." he shrugged, vaguely remembering that his new protégés were walking up the hill and probably nearly in earshot. Still, none of that mattered when she was in his arms. Ray couldn't remember a time when he'd been so happy, and even if stress, failure, and disaster were in his future with this latest scheme, he knew he'd be okay with her.
"Who also doesn't need to see you fondling my boob." However, (y/n) thought differently, her voice dry and sarcastic as her husband squished the pliable flesh like a stress ball. He was not ashamed, even when she swatted his hand away and led it to her stomach - a much safer place.
"Oh, yeah... He wasn't too happy earlier, was he?" Ray sniffed, sourly remembering how his resident handyman/assistant yelled at them earlier for...soiling the couch two weeks after he'd bought it. Part of him wanted to smile; he'd always loved pissing Schwoz off, but maybe not when he had to escape with his pants around his ankles.
"No, he wasn't. A week after your honeymoons, and you're already doing the smoochy-smoochy," (y/n) recalled, imitating the small man's peculiar accent, making her lover laugh. She wasn't necessarily mad - not at all since 'the soiling' was magnificent - but she didn't want to dig their hole deeper and cause an argument, not with the children around.
"Three weeks isn't long enough. He'd say the same if he had an incredibly hot wife, too." The hand on her butt tensed, pinching her again to make her jump, much to Ray's amusement. Three weeks wasn't long enough, but it wasn't like they hadn't done things since they'd moved in. He was just pushing his luck.
"Hands to yourself, doofus!"
"But sweet girl..." the doofus whined when she slipped out of his arms, straightening her sweater as she heard footsteps and clamouring excited voices. The last thing she wanted the kids to remember from their first day at school was something rude, lewd, and possibly nude, so she slipped her hand into his and leaned into his side, telling him to be content with what she gave him.
"Just...behave yourself. They're coming!" And she was right. Ray quickly stiffened his spine and posed against the door, acting cool and calm as Schwoz rounded the corner. He didn't suspect anything, merely seeing his two bosses, Mr and Mrs Manchester, waiting patiently as he guided the students to the front porch.
"Welcome to the Swellview Academy for the Gifted..." Ray said to them as Miles, Mila, Bose, and Chapa approached. They nodded at the tidy, pleasant space, impressed that Schwoz had planted some bedding plants in light wood boxes and hung a giant sculpture of SWAG's crest. It was an excellent porch, yet poor Bose took things a little too literally.
"I love it! This is my seat!" The boy exclaimed as Ray wrapped his arm around his precious wife, both confused to see the boy sitting cross-legged on the dirty ground.
'Good God, he's another Jasper,' Ray couldn't help but think, but a squeeze on the arm from his sweet girl, and he quickly calmed down. He was a little slow, that's all, and he had to remember his patience.
"No, no, Bose, sweetheart. The school's inside with desks and pencils and other learning things," (y/n) told him gently, having forgotten how dense the kid could be. At least he meant well, and she reached out to help him up since he couldn't sit on the porch all day.
"When can we see them?!" Mika asked in a rush of words, practically screeching above (y/n)'s voice once Bose was on his feet. The heroine was a little shocked until she remembered how eager and hyper the girl was, unlike the sullen one beside her.
"In a second, but first--" Ray tried to tell her, trying to stay in control since he was the boss, hero, headteacher--yadda, yadda, yadda. He'd forgotten what it was like to have four unruly, pubescent youths in his midst before getting to know them - so used to his old family working like a German clock - so it wasn't a surprise when they grew impatient and ignored him.
"That was a second!" Chapa exclaimed and charged, breaking through the line of adults to push inside the classroom despite Ray's best attempts to prevent it. If they ran together, he couldn't stop them all, leaving him, Schwoz and (y/n) slightly winded and definitely exasperated on the porch.
"They are not good listeners..." Schwoz sighed as the kids ran around the pristine room, marvelling at the smell of fresh paint and the sight of the fancy, unmarked desks and high-tech teaching equipment. They couldn't believe their luck, whilst the men outside couldn't believe what they'd gotten themselves into.
"Nope..." Ray agreed, biting his lip to keep in his screams. It was never like this with Henry, Charlotte, Jasper or Piper.
"They will learn..." (y/n) soothed them, turning in the hero's arms to stroke her hands down his chest and kiss his cheek. He sighed, not knowing if she was right, but he trusted her judgement, following his students into the building without too much stress. Inside, they were still buzzing, testing everything out, from the comfy spinning chairs at their personalised desks to the state-of-the-art interactive whiteboard.
"Is this the new Man Cave?" Bose asked incredulously, wondering if they'd learn and fight crime from the pokey room, with its own little pantry and staircase to wherever.
"No, this is not the new Man Cave," Ray replied, guiding his sweet girl briskly across the room with an exhausted expression. It hadn't even been five minutes, and he wanted to clunk skulls together. He was comforted only by the angel at his side, who dealt with stupid questions much better than he did.
"There's a new Man cave?" Chapa questioned just as eagerly, beaming at (y/n) this time, who thought her toothy grin was quite cute.
"Yeah, sort of..." she nodded, also excited to show them what they'd bought and built in such a short time, and no one would ever guess they were related. After all, why would Captain Man be interested in a tiny, four-pupil school?
"This is the school we bought for you guys so that (y/n) and I can teach you how to be superheroes," Ray explained as they took their place at the lectern, looking like the world's most clueless teachers but the most in love couple.
"This is my desk!" Mika exclaimed, ignoring the man as she claimed her seat, even though there was a seating plan. Well, not anymore, as the others followed suit, plonking their butts in any space they fancied, regardless of whatever their teacher tried to say.
"Well, you can't say they aren't enthusiastic..." (y/n) joked quietly, grinning at their energy as it infected her, lessening her nerves about how she'd shape their futures. Ray wasn't quick to agree, disliking how rowdy and unruly they were--and how fond of touching things they seemed to be.
"Hey, what does this button do?!" Chapa asked raucously, tracing her fingertips over the smooth, large button on her armrest.
"Do not push that!"
"No, no, no, no!" Ray and Schwoz exclaimed, halting her movements whilst (y/n) spouted nonsense about looking with eyes, not hands. Her hand hovered above the button, utterly tempted to press it just for the hell of it because it obviously did something. And they didn't want her to know just yet - she'd never been good with authority figures.
"Well, now I wanna push it more."
"Me too..." Miles agreed, too tempted to ignore his curiosity.
"Guys, please...All in good time," (y/n) tried to quell them, appealing to their sensible sides by saying they'd be allowed to soon, but they were too excited. Even Mika - the goody-two-shoes - couldn't help herself, apologising profusely before the quartet slammed their hands onto the buttons.
Ray sighed, his shouts in vain as the chairs activated, sending the kids through the ceiling and upstairs to the hideout in what was supposed to be a secret yet speedy way of getting to their battle stations when there was an emergency. Well, that was that surprise ruined, making Schwoz snigger. He couldn't wait to see how this panned out.
"Not good listeners..."
"Nope," Ray agreed, clenching his jaw with his hands on his hips. Suddenly, he felt he'd bitten off more than he could chew, but what was he supposed to do? It would be irresponsible to leave four untrained tweenagers with uncontrolled powers, but really? He was gonna be grey before he hit forty...
"They will learn..." (y/n) reiterated, unfolding her arms as she turned to her husband, whose brow was wrinkled and tight from stress. She hated to see it, but it seemed like they'd forgotten their early struggles with their first protégé, who had to be moulded into the young hero he was today.
"Henry was exactly the same."
"There was just one of Henry. Now, there's a whole bunch of 'em," her husband frowned, his heart aching at the memory of his former sidekick - so far away in Dystopia. He and all the others were fine, making their mark on the world one save at a time, but he couldn't help but miss them. Starting again didn't feel right at his age...
"So? We're superheroes, doofus. If we can handle bad guys, we can handle a few kids." But his pretty girl was there to soothe his worries, wrapping her arms around his neck as his forehead rested on her shoulder.
Schowz wandered off to do whatever chore he needed to do, fed up with seeing them being all affectionate and loving after their getaway. He thought it was bad before, but this was on another level, perfect for their new life together but annoying for those who had to witness their passionate kisses and roaming hands.
"And what about you, sweet girl? You like it? Our new place?" Ray asked, respectfully holding her hips, not because he wasn't in the mood - he always was - but because he knew his handyman had eyes and ears everywhere. He wasn't in the mood for a telling-off, not when standing with his hot wife, a teacher now and a superheroine. God, he needed a fan - he was in awe of her.
"Well, it needs to make a few memories first, but I think we'll be happy here. It's got windows!"
"I know I'm already happy. You've made me the happiest man in the world," he cooed, nudging their noses together, pleased by her response.
Their new home was brighter and airier than the Man Cave, although a little soulless since there was still so much to explore. But (y/n) was making the best of it, decorating their new bedroom with their combined tastes and ensuring Schwoz reinforced the bed--for comfort. Definitely for comfort.
"Don't be so grumpy, then. Let me see that handsome smile..." She smiled, pushing the man's cheeks with her finger until he was beaming, which was inevitable when his wife gave him her affection.
"Well, since you asked so nicely..." Lost in their own little world, Ray pulled her in a kiss, licking the seam of her lips as they smiled, nerves fading into excitement for the future. His hands trailed to her ass, cupping the squishy flesh as (y/n) hummed appreciatively, knowing that whilst things may change, she'd always have his peppermint-bubblegum taste to comfort her.
Minutes passed, and Schwoz wondered where they'd gotten to as chaos ensued upstairs, thanks to the four children running unsupervised. He poked his head through the pantry door to see them in a hot, heavy make-out session, pulling on clothes and hair as their rings glowed. He knew he shouldn't have left them alone...
"Are you two gonna stand around doing the smoochy-smoochy all day, or are you gonna go upstairs? Bose is literally climbing the walls!"
"Stop calling it smoochy-smoochy, Schwoz!" The hero shouted, pulling away from his sweet girl abruptly, looking irritated as Schwoz fled the room. He knew Ray hated being interrupted and wisely sprinted upstairs whilst (y/n) giggled in her lover's embrace. He looked so pissed off but softened when he looked at her again, almost pouting now that the kissing was over.
"He's right, though, doofus. Annoying, but right. We should get up there before they burn the place down or break something," she said softly, brushing her fingers against his forehead as her husband sighed. He knew they had left the peace and quiet in Hawaii, but he didn't think life would become so complicated and demanding so soon. Apparently not...
"Ugh, fine..." He groaned, knowing she was right. They were the leaders, teachers, heroes, so they couldn't spend all day in the throes of passion--as much as he yearned to. He sighed and pulled away but kept his hand in hers as she pressed a final kiss to his cheek, confident in their abilities to handle anything that came their way when he saw their wedding rings.
A promise of a lifetime together, throughout the good times and the bad, highs and lows, the successes and blows. Their next adventure was starting, and despite a little fear amongst the butterflies, he was excited, knowing he wasn't starting again, just...carrying on.
"Are you ready, sweet girl?"
"Of course, doofus. Let the danger begin..." (y/n) smiled, following close behind Ray as he escorted her upstairs to the unskilled and unruly children. Their new adventure.
She'd come to love them as her own, just as before, although she hoped there'd be less heartbreak and much more love this time. It wasn't the end, merely the next chapter in a new book - a sequel.
The story of (y/n) Manchester, helper, heroine, sweet girl, wasn't quite over yet. This was only just the beginning.
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21. Home safe
A PEAK AT WHAT’S INSIDE THEIR. . .
Charcoal and pencil drawings (some of Marius, Daniel and Bianca), Night Island Villa Deeds along with architectural plans, painting of a pysanky red egg. Alias passports.
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