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the-goddess-of-mischief-writing · 1 year ago

Text

London calling

Summary; Price is invited to a military event, you're his plus one. A night of socialising and teasing leads to a hot night back at the hotel.

Pairing: Cpt. John Price x reader (sunshine!universe)

Rating: Explicit

CHAPTER NO/ONESHOT: Onehsot

Word; 12.5k

Warnings; alcohol consumption (drink in moderation), SMUT (18+ mdni), oral (m-receving), dirty talk, p-in-v, d/s themes, unprotected sex, captain!kink

Author; @the-goddess-of-mischief-writing

A/N: Where's the nearest wall I can bang my head against? I need this man so bad and that's why you get 12k upon my return💀😭

SUNSHINE UNIVERSE MASTERLIST

If not for the Christmas lights dangling almost in line with your window, the quickly diminishing daylight soon would've shone with its absence within the room. Dusk was approaching, if not already present, but not with its rosy summer glory, but a gloomy and yellowy-grey sky of early winter.

Things were still a scale of grey and dark rather than white. Even though some stray white flakes had fallen when you arrived yesterday, they'd melted even before hitting the pavement. And, if it had been cold enough, pedestrians still would've trambled it into mush, and cars would've melted it with their heat.

You put on the small pendant earrings you'd brought as you glanced out the window and down at the people mulling about on the streets.

Most had shopping bags in their hands, everyone seemingly in a hurry. You didn't need to see their faces whip left and right to find the next store they could steer towards. The ant-like stir of people was enough to know Christmas shopping was in full swing.

A heavy breath escaped you, your eyes flittering back to the mirror.

You ran your hands down the fabric wrapped around your body. The material felt cool beneath your sweaty palms as you tried to brush out any wrinkles from the dress. Impossible, seeing how you'd gotten it from the tailor this morning and barely touched it inside its casing.

You took another deep breath, one hand raising until your palm rested over the centre of your chest, fingers draped over your bared clavicles. There's a prickling sensation beneath your hand, resembling the crowd's irregular movement outside. If you concentrated enough, you could almost feel how it vibrated, causing your heart to do an uncomfortable double beat that quickly pushed the air from your lungs before you instinctively inhaled.

"Not goin' to faint on me, are you, love?" Your eyes flicker sideways, landing on John as he emerges from the hotel room's bathroom.

"Might just now", you say breathlessly for an entirely different reason than the edginess causing the prickly sensation in your body.

The man now making his way towards you is the same one you travelled to London with. And yet, there's no jacket ladened with a furry lapel warming him from the chilly temperatures, no beanie atop his head to shield him from the consistent gusts of wind. Now, he's dressed smart.

Whatever event he's invited to is military in nature. So, while John mentioned that it was a black-tie event for civilians, it was ceremonial for him, meaning you would see him in his formal military uniform. But nothing had prepared you for how regal he now looked in his dark blue suit, polished black leather crossbelt with shoes to match, and the row of medals proudly displayed on his chest. The only missing thing was the matching hat pressed close to his body beneath his arm.

"Flatterin' an old man?" Your gaze locks with his again from having roved over his body, noticing the creases in the corner of his eyes as he stops beside you.

"You deserve every ounce of flattery when looking like that". You turn to John just as he settles one of his hands on the small of your back. In return, you raise your fingers, barely brushing them against the underside of his chin as you lean up and kiss him.

"Mhm, don't look too shabby yourself", he mumbles against you as you pull away from the brief exchange.

"Thank you". You turn towards the mirror again, eyeing yourself. "I didn't know if it was too much".

"Could never be".

You'd meant it to be a quick look, but your attention stayed on your reflection, eyes flittering over your form.

There were a few beats of silence until John stepped up behind you, the hand previously on your back sliding to accommodate the new position. You follow his larger frame in the mirror, simultaneously feeling and seeing how his hands settle on your hip.

"Nervous?" Those blue eyes meet yours in the reflective surface, knowing. You release yet another sigh, head ducking momentarily as you lean into the sturdy bulk of John at your back.

"Yeah", you breathe, the admittance not the first of its kind.

When the news had been brought up that John needed to attend some military event in London, you hadn't blinked twice. However, when he mentioned the invitation inquired about a plus one upon acceptance, and he'd asked you, you'd looked at him wide-eyed.

"There's no need to worry, love". John dips his head, kissing the juncture of your neck. "You know nothing is expected from you".

Your shoulders slump, hands seeking his as he wraps his arm around your waist. The weight was a pleasant pressure around your mid-drift while his skin was warm beneath your hand.

"I know, but-". You bite your lip, shrugging timidly, eyes meeting John's in the mirror. "It's a military event".

"Nervous 'bout meetin' some colleagues of mine?"

"Not just any type of colleagues", you mumble, making John let out a gentle chuckle.

"You get along great with the lads".

"That's when we're at the pub, not a formal occasion with a lot more of the same kind of people around". You huff in protest. Though Ghost wouldn't attend the event, Johnny and Kyle thankfully would. So, while John won't be the only familiar face in the crowd, that's still only three out of everyone invited.

"I just don't feel like I fit the picture". You shrug once, gaze dropping to watch you play with John's fingers. Your fingertips trail over his knuckles, then up and down his digits. Only when John interwines your hands does your motion stop and attention return to him.

"You'll fit because you'll be there with me". John's gaze was intense as he spoke, voice a steady, deep reassurance. "The lads nor I fancy these occasions, but we need to attend nonetheless. Your presence will undoubtedly make it more pleasant for me, at least".

You smile, craning your neck so you no longer watch him through the mirror but look up at him. John dips his chin in return.

"You're good at motivational speeches".

There's a chuckle before he nudges his nose against yours, moving closer. "Gotten good at 'em through the years". Your chuckle is sealed into your mouth as he slots his lips with yours.

Your muscles relax as you lean into him, feeling the warmth of his body seep into yours and soothe you just like a warm blanket. Even when you part, you linger within each other's presence.

John was the first to pull away entirely, his eyes falling from yours as he did. You watch him take a step back, keeping one hand on your hip as he lets his gaze rove over your body.

"God, you're gorgeous", he mutters, taking a full once over before those blues lock with yours again.

You bite your lip, a smile breaking through nonetheless. "Would hope so. You helped me pick, after all".

"Anythin' to make my missus feel pretty". Your smile widens even more.

John had known you were nervous about the event, reluctant to even agree to be his plus one at first. So, he'd done everything to make you comfortable.

When you'd had half a breakdown while digging through your closet, only to find nothing appropriate to wear, John sat with you as you looked at dresses online. After seeing nothing that felt right there either, he'd booked a weekend trip to London to visit the tailor he usually entrusted when his formal attire needed a sow-up.

It had been your first trip together, strolling through the city, having dinners, playing tourist despite not really sightseeing. Though one of the days, between walking and dining, you'd visited the tailor's atelier.

For once, John only sat down on one of the plush armrests; no need to be attended to. Instead, it was your time in the spotlight, the storage manager ushering you to the racks of dresses, instructing you to pick whatever caught your eye to try on.

None of the dresses were especially embellished. Still, they weren't simple but elegant.

You'd switched between examining the dresses, showing John to get his opinion when you found any you liked, to testing them. Although he didn't complain once about you taking your time, chatting to the owner with an old familiarity, even you were tired when you found a dress that was just right.

However, the sluggishness only brought on by trying on clothes disappeared the second the owner had taken your measurements and you stood by the pay desk. A deposit was needed for the dress, and the rest would be paid on the day you picked it up. But the pre-payment had been enough to nearly make you baulk and glance at John to see if he was okay with spending so much. However, the man at your side hadn't even blinked at the number.

After you'd bid the tailor goodbye and exited the store, you did ask about it. Though not unfamiliar with John's gentlemanly fashion of paying for things, how confidently he answered left you at a loss for an answer, only able to shake your head with a smile when he offered his arm to you. 'I want to, love. It's the least I could do when draggin' you to this spectacle. Now lead me wherever you can find some jewellery matchin' the dress".

"Would you help your girl feel even prettier?" You hold up the necklace bought to fit the dress. God, he'd spoiled you rotten for this event.

"My pleasure". John threw his hat on the bed, overtaking the jewellery from you. With a slight move of his head, he signalled you to turn around.

Despite facing the mirror again, your eyes were cast down as you tipped your head slightly forward. The glittering metal links suddenly pass your vision as he raises it over your head, the necklace falling over your collarbones as he lowers it. Feeling his fingers brush against your skin, not long after, a barely audible click indicates the piece of jewellery is secured around your neck.

When you raise your head, your eyes immediately fall to the necklace, your fingers trailing over it. A smile slowly shifts your lips upwards as you follow the pretty drop down your sternum. The gentle bow of your lips remains as you turn, craning your neck as you pout your lips, insisting that John meets you in a kiss. And he's never one to turn you down.

"Thank you", you offer after the sweet peck of gratitude, to which he hums in return.

You feel how his blue gaze follows you when moving towards the desk that became your makeup table for the night. Even more so when you reach for the lipstick you'd saved to apply until now.

Crouching slightly so your face aligns with the much smaller mirror on the wooden desktop, you carefully outline your lips before colouring the rest until an even shade coats them.

"What do you think?" You say, straightening up again. As you press your lips together, you put on the lid and place the lipstick in your purse, all in the motion of turning to face the man almost transfixed with you. "Thought the red matched those". You motion with your finger to the ribbons, half-red and half-other colours, attached to his medals.

"It does". You parry the hand reaching for you with a shift to the side, knowing that tone of voice from John would only mess up your makeup.

He arches a brow at your move, but you only arch both of yours in return as you put your clutch beneath your arm.

"We'll be late", you claim. Even so, you can't deny you enjoy John's attention and the look in his eyes. He makes you feel pretty, desired. It completely overhauls your stomach's previous knots.

Deciding to tease him just the slightest, you pop your index finger much more dramatically than needed into your mouth, pursing your lips around the digit before pulling it out slowly, all whilst keeping eye contact with the man watching you. You smile at John after your finger leaves your mouth, now not afraid of red smearing your teeth thanks to the ring of colour around the middle of your finger.

"Goodness, women", he groans, hand trailing over his lower face. You can only giggle as you pluck a tissue from the box on the desk, rubbing off the lipstick as you slip around John. "Could think you want to be late".

You throw the paper into the bin beside the dresser as you pass it to the short hall leading to the door, flashing a much more satisfied smile over his reaction than previously graced your lips.

"Good things come to those who are patient. You just have to wait until after the event for me to paint something else a pretty red".

You catch another deep, grumbly sound coming from him, your previous display more than enough to conjure precisely the picture you insinuated.

As you turn forward, you chuckle again, plucking your heels from the shoe stand built into the dresser. What you hadn't anticipated was for your shoes to be plucked from your grip seconds later and to find John standing close behind you with his retrieved hat under his arm.

You send him a questioning look that he ignores as he kneels. Unable to do anything else, you shift to rest your back against the dresser and follow along when he taps his kneecap.

You raise your foot so the front pad rests against John's knee before he gingerly grabs the back of your ankle, and the pump is slipped on. He gives you time to find the balance on your now-heeled foot as he drops it before repeating the process. However, before letting you go this time, he raises your foot just slightly as he dips his head, kissing the lowest part of your shin, all the while looking up at you.

"Gonna hold you to your words, love", he declares, dropping your foot to the ground.

You swallow, going from looking down to up as he rises from the floor. "Don't mind if you do".

"Good", he kisses your cheek, heeding your desire for him not to accidentally, or very consciously, destroy your makeup. "Let us be on the way", he says, grabbing your coats from the racks.

***

The venue was beautiful: an old building with pillared walls, a second floor acting as a running balcony overlooking the ground floor and high vaulted glass roofs that stare into the dark sky above. You'd only looked down from the stunning decoration and lighting when you ascended the stairs to the main floor, lifting your dress to not catch on the fabric.

You don't know how long ago that had been, but since then, you and John haven't been given much time alone.

Each and every minute, the man who either offered his arm for you to hold or kept a hand on the small of your back introduced you to someone he knew in one way or another. Although politely greeting them with either a nod or a handshake, there were too many names and too fleeting conversations for you to remember any of them.

Only now did you get the chance to breathe. But rather than feel at ease for the momentary respite, you'd hastily moved from the midst of the crowd to the edge of the room where the table of aperitifs and drinks was, a plate filled with bite-sized food in your hands.

You would've shared them with John if he hadn't been whisked away a few moments prior. Albeit he'd been reluctant to leave your side, even when it was some affiliate from the U.S. who asked for a few minutes of his time, you'd reassured him it was fine.

You'd told yourself you could survive at least a few minutes without John and that the buffet could keep you company enough. And though you weren't as uncomfortable as you previously thought you would be, the thought of socialising with someone you'd either met already or not at all felt... awkward.

You wouldn't call it shyness. Far from it, you were curious about some of those you'd met who sported black smokings, cocktail dresses or gowns. But, out of those civilians you'd met so far, most of them were not like you.

Your sole connection to this event, to the military, was John. The other considered civilians had seemingly much closer ties, most acting as private corporate sponsors for military-tied causes through funds or services. While finding it interesting, you didn't know how much of the stuff was confidential, and you would much rather not make a scene just for some small talk. Neither did many have a plus one you could initiate a conversation with. So, the buffet became your company.

Your gaze travels over the mass of people as you plop the last canapé into your mouth. And as if the universe decided to be kind, you spot a familiar face lingering at the other edge of the room.

With all the new people John had introduced you to and recently also had to part from you to speak with, exhaustion was starting to creep up on you, along with the feeling of being lost in a crowd of still most unfamiliar people. Hence, you quickly discard your plate to instead grab two flutes of champagne before moving straight across the floor.

With people moving almost sluggishly, if at all, around the room, it was no wonder a pair of brown eyes combined with a friendly smile welcoming you met your long before you joined the very man whose attention you'd gotten.

"Kyle". The man nods in response to his name as you get close enough to greet him. The silent hello looks incredibly more formal while dressed similarly to John. "How are you?" You slow until stopping before him.

"Good as can be", his voice was light, making your brows raise upon the humour in his tone. He was the first of John's closest circle you'd seen tonight; Johnny had yet to arrive. Even so, by the looks of it, the Brit looked like he rather wouldn't be here at all.

Kyle carried himself straight-backed, faint smile in the corner of his mouth, one hand behind his back while the other rested along his side. And yet, despite the at-eased posture and expression upon his features, something told you it was entirely for show.

You chuckle, handing him the flute you'd brought. "Yeah, not really my setting either", you admit in a low voice.

Kyle cocks his head, smile widening as he shifts on his feet, accepting the drink you'd stretched forth. "What suggest I don't fancy this?".

"Don't know, but something about the all too delighted expression gave me a hint", you reply, sarcasm lacing your tone, on par with the amount that previously laden his sentence. That's the first time you see Kyle's shoulders drop somewhat as he chuckles, his posture less flawless as he looks more relaxed than previously.

You smile at his reaction, stepping forward to stand beside rather than in front of him. His brown gaze followed you as you did.

"Why ain't this your kind of setting then?". Your eyes fall on Kyle just as he shifts to look over the crowd.

"Too many of the older generation has gotten stuck and too comfortable behind their desks to remember what it's like out on the field. The rest are mostly snobs who think money and chest candy is our motivation". You bite your lip to stop the laughter rising from your throat at his quick remark. "Why isn't this your setting then? You fit in with the dress".

"Calling me a snob?" You raise a playful brow, a smile tugging the corner of your mouth.

"That you're here, talking to me, says enough", Kyle retorts, eyes falling on you.

You chuckle, but it turns into a sigh when your gaze breaks from his, fleeting over the crowd. "It just makes me nervous, I guess".

"Why?"

"Well, for the same reason as when I first met you guys". You glance at him. "Just feels like I don't fit in with all of you military people, especially now, at this event".

"Didn't do too bad of an impression on us back then. Especially not Price". You duck your head, a bashful smile bowing your lips that's still present when you look at the man at your side again.

"Perhaps not, but as you said, many here are high-ranking military personnel or snobs that are more difficult to get along with than you lot".

"Cheers to that", he chuckles, raising his glass of champagne. You mimicked his movement and raised your flute in a small tip, you both taking a sip from your drinks as they fell from their elevated position.

Your eyes glide over the crowd, and as if it's second nature, you search for John again. While having tried to spot him previously, you hadn't been successful. Although this time around, you find him.

"He's good at that". You observe John as he talks to the same man who'd whisked him away previously, though now they're also joined by a woman.

Your comment pulls Kyle's attention in the same direction as yours.

He releases a huff not soon after, the reaction making your brows arch and your head turn towards him. His brown eyes flicker down to lock with yours, a humorous glint in them.

"The old man is good at handling the higher-ups and other connections. That's why he does most of the talk for us". His eyes flicker sideways, probably towards the group you talked about, before they return to you. "Doesn't mean he despises it any less than the rest of us in most cases".

You turn to look at John, eyes narrowing as you closely watch him interact with the man and women. While he seems formal when talking to the man and more cordial with the women, he still doesn't seem relaxed. His posture is stiff, one arm bent behind his back as if wanting to pose fittingly to the occasion, his other hand clutching a champagne flute. Untouched.

Pissy excuse of fizzy water, he'd said once you asked if he wanted to share an old bottle you found in your apartment from god knows when, but acceptable enough that it wouldn't taste like the piss John labelled it as.

"That's why he brought you". Kyle's voice pulls you out of your thoughts. "He's going to use you as a scapegoat the moment it's deemed enough for him to be here". You bit your lip to quiet your snicker, shaking your head.

"He isn't", you argue, only partly believing it yourself.

"Oh, he will". Your head turned towards the new but familiar voice, finding Johnny, dressed similarly to both John and Kyle, approaching from the crowd. "Don't put it past him".

You immediately split into a grin. "Johnny, how are you?" You step forward, engulfing the man in a hug, getting anchored to the Scot's side as his arm remains over your shoulders.

"Think Gaz gave ya a brief 'nough for us", the Scotsman formally greets the young Brit with a raise of his brows and an upward nod of his head as he directs his attention towards him. Kyle only reciprocated the motion, not answering his question. "Ya gonna drink that, lass?"

You shake your head fondly, Johnny taking the flute of champagne from your hand as you give it to him.

"Drunkard", you mumble, rolling your eyes as he gulps down your drink, only to provide you with a cheeky wink when he's emptied the glass.

"Where's Price?" You're about to answer that he's socialising. But you don't get the opportunity before a voice cuts in.

"Savin' my missus from a drunk Scotsman, it seems". Your head snaps towards John's voice, a smile unfolding as you see him nearing your group while collective chuckles emerge from the men around you. "Easy on the drinks tonight, Sergeant". John's eyes switch from yours as he directs his attention to Johnny, the quirk of his lips now reaching his eyes.

"All stereotypes ain't true, Captain. Besides-". The Scot lets go of you, his arm falling as he steps to the side, giving John room to step into the semi-circle. As if you never left his side, his arm naturally falls around your waist, anchoring you to his broad frame again. "-can't get drunk on this, know it yaself", Johnny chuckles.

John hums in agreement, swirling the golden liquid in his flute with the hand hanging by his side. You tap his flank, and he looks down at you. As you motion for the glass with a nod, he gives it to you without any protest, probably delighted to get rid of the drink.

You happily sip it, your throat not feeling as tight anymore when John's with you and you're surrounded by familiar faces.

"How's the evening been then, Captain?" John shifts to look at Kyle.

"Not too shabby, lot of talkin' as always", he says. "Where the two of you been then?" His eyes shift from his fellow Brit to Johnny, who's standing with the hand not clutching the empty glass in his pocket.

"You know how London traffic is". Kyle offers with a one-shouldered shrug. "I'm not complaining about it this time around though".

"Only means you need to stay longer", John huffs, arm tightening around you. You can't help but shoot the younger Brit a look, an amused smile barely hidden beneath the rim of your glass. He cocks his head slightly, an unspoken 'what did I say' lingering between the two of you. "You two conspirin'?" Your eyes flitter back to John as he bumps his hip into yours.

"No", Kyle says as your eyes lock with the man at your side. John's eyes shine, a brow quirked in intrigue. It schooled the expression of rigidity he had previously, showing how at ease he became around his men despite the setting.

"What he said". You smile sweetly at John, fluttering your lashes, causing a ruckus of laughter around you.

"Be careful, Captain. That one is a sly thing". Johnny claps him on the shoulder.

"I know".

"Don't paint me in a bad light", you joke, nudging John's side with your elbow. The man in question chuckles when watching the pout you send him.

"The lot rub off on me", he indirectly chides Johnny and Kyle, both of whom make faux hurtful sounds upon the comment. "I better steal you away from them and introduce you to better company".

"Who could possibly be better company than us? The silent grump ain't here anyway". The Scotsman questions, glancing around the space with a humoured look until it returns.

"Laswell is better than the two of you together", John returns with a chuckle, his arm tightening around your waist to signal that you soon would be moving to meet whoever this Laswell was.

Upon what's apparently a familiar name, Johnny's brows jump upwards. "She made it here? Didn't think she would".

John only answers with an affirming hum. "Behave now", he offers in goodbye while you give them a wave before he tugs you with him.

As John directs the two of you through the crowd, you soon realise where he's taking you. The woman he's leading you towards is the same one he'd been talking to previously.

You give him a curious glance when you note she isn't dressed in any military uniform, only a long-sleeved jumpsuit. Even so, when you turn to face her again, the woman has noticed your nearing presence and turned toward you, eyes regarding you in a manner too in-depth to be a civilian.

Her eyes flicker sideways as you stop before her, most probably to the man at your side. It's brief but enough for her face to soften and a hint of a smile to quirk her mouth.

"Kate Lawsell", her American accent is apparent as her eyes fall to meet yours again upon the greeting. You're not late to shake the hand she stretched forth, introducing yourself in return. "So you're John's sweetheart?"

You shrug with a smile as you feel John's thumb start brushing circular patterns through the silky material of your dress. "Guess I am". She hums, the corner of her lip twitching a bit further upwards.

"Almost thought he made you up with the lack of evidence about his special someone".

You chuckle while practically feeling how John rolls his eyes. "S'no need to carry a photo with me everywhere".

"Expected it from a traditional one like you", she shrugs one of her shoulders. Their exchange makes you smile, head cocking slightly.

"So, where do you know each other from?"

"I work for C.I.A., deal a fair share with the 141 and that British Captain of yours". Your eyes widen, lips parting in a silent oh as your eyes shift to John, then back to Kate.

"That ain't half-bad". Your comment brings out a chuckle from the dark blonde woman.

"Say that when trying to keep any kind of leash on him". Kate nods towards John, a conspiring look in her eyes, one he gruffs at.

"That so?" You face the man at your side with an amused expression, catching the look he sends the woman opposite him. "Am I hearing that you're a nuisance at work?"

John's eyes flicker to you, his features softening as his head dips in a shake and small huff of laughter. "You women always like to team up".

Despite his comment, you talked with Kate for a few more minutes, getting to know more about her, until separate parties dragged her and John off. This time around, however, you got tugged along to the new conversation, with no choice but to remain glued to the brunette's side as he didn't let up on his hold.

Although relieved to stay with him again, your feet start to feel sore, and your body tired. Consequently, you slowly let John take more room in the conversation as you fell silent, still with a smile present to appear interested in the conversation.

You take a deep breath, careful not to let your exhale sound like a sigh. Even so, John caught it, giving you a brief look to check in on you. You spare him a glance, attempting a soothing smile to fend off any potential concern.

His eyes flitter over your face before he turns forward again, offering a chuckle at something the soldier said. You'd completely missed what it was but mimicked John with a much softer sound huffed through your nose.

You try to concentrate after that, as it's the only polite thing to do. But god, you find your mind wandering to every little ache suddenly emerging.

Shifting the weight on your feet subtly, you try to move your hips to ease the twinge in your spine. Unsuccessful, you straighten your back, rolling your shoulders to try a different approach. Through your peripheral, you notice your squirming caught John's attention again, his gaze flickering sideways momentarily. Soon after, his thumb starts rubbing the small of your back with slightly more pressure just to be a subconscious movement.

John had been attentive to you the whole night, but if you could catch his attention this easily, you had a sneaking suspicion that it wasn't only your concentration that started to stray or energy to wither.

Even if you probably would do both of you a favour by asking if it was time to leave, you didn't want to interrupt their conversation, so you simply let your head fall sideways onto John's shoulder, content with feeling how his kneading thumb eased the discomfort in your lower back.

Thankfully, whoever this Miller was, he didn't keep a long-winded conversation with John as Generals had. Instead, the soldier of equal rank soon bid you both goodbye, explaining his departure as not wanting to take up too much of your time. That made your smile more genuine than it had been while listening to the two men for the last few minutes.

As you sigh lightly, a gentle press against your back suddenly steers you forward. You don't protest when John moves you through the crowd, especially not when noticing he's leading you to the outskirts of it.

"How you feelin', love?" John ducks his head to ask the question as your pace slows.

"I'm good, just a bit exhausted after standing for so long", you return with a shrug as you stop at the edge of the crowd, between the columns lining the wall. You tilt your head to look at John as he stands opposite you. Blue eyes meet yours as his hand moves to the dip of your waist before they skate over the crowd.

You watch John as he does, feeling his finger through your dress as they rap against you, almost as if thinking about something.

Gaze falling, you follow his profile: the slope of his nose, the sharp line of his jaw accentuated by the angle of his head, his beard shining with the oil he'd worked into it after his earlier shower. God, he's too bloody handsome tonight.

From nowhere, you get the urge to lean up and kiss the skin of his throat right above his collar. Though quelling the desire to plant a red mark matching the outline of your lips on his throat here, amongst all these people, that's all it takes for your mind to spiral.

Gonna hold you to your words, love.

His sentence from the hotel room echoes in your mind, and suddenly, you can't wait any longer to be the scapegoat Kyle had dubbed you. Sick and tired of this event already.

When you take a step closer to John, his attention is quickly pulled back towards you. With his now undivided attention on you, you lightly grab the tie tucked beneath his jacket, tugging slightly on it to straighten the material to its previous perfection a few hours earlier.

Satisfied with the minor fix you'd done to his attire, you pat his chest, eyes travelling upwards to lock with his not soon after.

John scrutinises your hands that remain close to where you'd fiddled with his tie rather than drop to your sides. When his blue gaze locks with yours, his head cocks. "What are you up to?"

"M'nothing, just wondering when it's acceptable to leave this event".

John's eyes narrow slightly before his brows rise. "Any special reason to why?"

"Just want to go back to the hotel". You made it evident that trailing your hands down his chest wasn't a coincidence but a conscious decision as you lowered them to pull your purse from beneath your upper arm. "Don't know what you're insinuating".

"You don't?" You only reply with a coy nuh-uh sound as you open your purse, pulling out the golden encasing housing your lipstick.

You'd touched up your makeup once throughout the evening, right after John left you to talk with whoever the American man had been, along with Kate, for the first time. As you do it now, blue eyes fall from yours, following your move of painting your lips in a new coat of red.

"You know very well what you're doin', love". His words are spoken slowly, but their edges are rough, frayed.

"Just playing my part as pretty arm candy". After putting away your lipstick again, you motion to your lips. "Want to help me so I don't get any lipstick on my teeth?" You form your lips into an o, knowing precisely what you're doing.

"Love...", he warns, fingers pressing into your waist.

"John?" You retaliate with a cock of your brow, only to shrug when he makes no move to help you.

Raising a finger, you place only the tip between your lips before pulling it out with a pop.

A repressed groan escapes John, head tilting backwards, eyes shut tightly. "You're doin' this to me on purpose", he grinds out.

"Of course I am", you giggle in return, using your other hand to rather unceremoniously rub away the red colour with your fingers. "So what's the choice? We staying a bit longer or-". You're not even allowed to finish the sentence before John's head tips forward again, and he does it for you.

"We're goin', now". His arm swiftly wraps around your waist to turn the both of you towards the exit.

"Can't play polite anymore?" You let yourself be carried along.

"Been plenty polite when all I've wanted the whole evenin' is to return to the hotel". John's hand scorches the place it pushes against the small of your back, guiding you straight to the very stairs you'd entered through hours ago. "Then you're pretty arse go about actin' up, provin' how much more I would've gotten done there than here", he grumbles, making you swat the side of his chest with a low, chastising John concerning the setting you're on. The man in question only sends you a look, daring you to argue against him, but after forcing his hand to take you back to the hotel, you can't.

There was a warm, eager air between you and John as you retrieved your coats and exited the venue. You shared glances, fleeting but heated locks of your eyes that had your body igniting. Touches setting you aflame even if his was much the same as throughout the evening but firmer, while yours were brief, teasing over his torso.

When John managed to hail a cab, he let you enter first, following seconds later and sitting down in the backseat with a low, frustrated sound.

He tugs his hat from his head, the other hand smoothening his hair. You both know there's a twenty-minute ride ahead of you when even half the time would've been too long and yet you watch him with amusement as his head thuds backwards.

He must feel your eyes on him as his head rolls to face you. You didn't need to say anything; your smile was enough to make him release a low, impatient grunt, eyes closing.

You chuckle, hand settling on John's thigh as you do. Apparently, he thinks there's an ulterior motive behind your action as his eyes snap open, sending you a warning look that, if anything, made you wish you had done something to deserve it. His large hand grabs yours to emphasise the message to not try anything, dropping it in your lap instead. Even so, he doesn't pull away afterwards, instead letting your fingers intertwine.

When finally rolling up to the hotel, John couldn't stop tapping his thumb against your hand as he paid for the cab, practically dragging you along when he exited the car.

With his hat in a white-knuckled grip and your hand in a gentler hold, the two of you moved through the lobby. You felt how fiercely John battled with himself to not stalk to the elevators but keep a pace that wouldn't draw attention and you could match.

It's always amusing seeing John like this, exhilarating if nothing. And that's why you can't help but poke the bear while waiting for the elevator.

You slip your hand from his, blue eyes immediately falling to you as your arm closest to him slides beneath his coat and around his waist, squeezing his mid-drift teasingly.

"Someone seems impatient". The end of your sentence is perfectly followed by the chime of the elevator arriving. Letting your hand drop after pressing your fingers into John's side, you stride into the empty space with a sway to your hips. "I wonder why". You look over your shoulder, a smile gracing your lips as you cock a brow.

John is hot on your heels, pressing the button to close the doors rather than waiting for them to do so.

Just when you turn to lean against the railing the furthest in, he takes the last step towards you, hands settling beside your own, caging you against the wall just as the door slides close.

"You should know what torture it's been havin' you this good-lookin' and unable to do anythin' the whole evenin'". John's words are rushed as his head dips close to your face.

"Ditto", you return in a hum, gaze flittering down and then up again. "There was a relatively empty second floor I thought about dragging you to".

"Fuckin' hell, don't say that", he groans, hand coming to cup the back of your neck, angling your face towards his.

Yet, before John can press his mouth against yours, the elevator suddenly halts on a floor too early to be yours.

He quickly drops his hand and moves so he doesn't corner you against the wall, even though he remains awfully close. Your eyes swiftly snap to the opening doors, schooling your features into a polite smile at the woman who steps into the elevator. She offers you a similar one before her eyes flicker to John. When they do, her eyebrows rise before they jump back to you.

For a few mortifying seconds, you fear she knows precisely what she interrupted until her smile becomes softer.

"If the two of you don't make a stunning pair", she remarks kindly, making John turn his head to look at her, his body still firmly angled towards you.

"Well, thank you", you answer for you both.

"My husband was also in the military", she directs the comment to you even if her eyes flitter to John when she continues. "But he never took me to those fancy events. The old man despised them like the plague".

"Seems like all of them do". You chuckle in return, patting John's side fondly.

The man in question remains remarkably silent, only muttering something under his breath. Your eyes switch to him, sending him a questioning look. Blue eyes return your stare as his head tilts to the right, just a notch, but your brows only pinch together, still not understanding what he's trying to silently get at. That is until his face sets and John angles his hips just slightly more into the upper part of your thigh, and you feel it.

You almost gasped at the considerable bulge in his pants that definitely would be in danger of showing. Yet, you manage not to, only letting your brows shoot up when you finally understand John's silence and the position he was adamant about keeping.

The woman, however, must have interpreted it like some coupley squabble as she chuckles at your interaction, pulling your attention to her.

"Young love, always so charming."

"Young?" John scoffs into your ear, his voice barely enough to be considered a whisper. "Got me feelin' like a bloody teen", he grouses over his predicament.

You duck your head, forehead falling against his shoulder as you muffle the chuckle bubbling in your throat.

While the man you hide your face against notices your shoulders jumping and sends you a glare, the woman again misinterprets your reaction.

"No need to be embarrassed. We've all been young once".

"Did you meet your husband young?" You shift the conversation when finally facing her, sure no trace of your previous amusement could be detected.

"Oh goodness, yes, even younger than the two of you", she motions to you and John with a wave. "Much more immature, too". You almost laugh out loud at that. And like previously, John notices, husking a low, pointed 'Don't laugh' into your ear.

"This one's a real gentleman." You turn to face John, smiling up at him despite being met by a stern expression. What the women don't see is the way your hand trails down,��down over his stomach until the flat of your palm presses into the spot just above his groin.

John's jaw flexes, unable to snatch your hand and pull it away if not genuinely desiring to draw attention to what you're doing. But that doesn't stop his blue eyes from meeting yours as he lowly hisses, "And don't do that".

Then, the elevator suddenly lets out a ding as it stops.

"It was lovely to meet you youths, but this is my stop", the woman waves after the doors slide open, John craning his neck to watch her leave with a faint, for your eyes awfully forced, smile. "Have a great evening".

"You too!" You reciprocate her wave as she exits, receiving a friendly smile before the doors close.

Seconds, it takes seconds before your vision is once more filled by John.

"You... love-", he chuckles, nose scrunching as his head cocks to the side. "-oh, you are trouble".

"Don't be moody. You were called a youth", you chuckle. John only manages to open his mouth before the elevator chimes again, this time on your floor.

You know it was your saving grace from how those blue eyes had narrowed at you. Instead, he only exhales sharply as you grasp his hand, forcing him to follow you to the exit.

Although reaching the doors, you stall with one hand holding them open, peeking outside, head swivelling right and left down the corridor. Noticing the coast was clear, you tug John with you.

Even if no one was around, he walked close enough behind you that the slight problem in his pants would be hidden enough if you stumbled into someone.

Thankfully, you didn't meet anyone on the way to your room, sparing you from the embarrassing interaction that could've occurred. However, it enabled John to whip out the key card and more than a bit unceremoniously push you into your room once the light flashed green, the door barely slipping close before he chucked his hat to the side to pull you against him.

John's thick arm winds around your waist, pulling your body against his as his nose gently knocks against yours. Hot lips descending upon yours soon after, moulding your mouths together.

A groan vibrates against your lips, John's fingers digging into your ribcage and the side of your stomach. His near-desperate need to feel you against him makes your fingers curl into the nape of his neck, pulling him closer. The response is instantaneous, his tongue pushing into your mouth as he deepens the kiss. It's your time to release a pleased sound, something melting away from your body as hunger takes its place.

"Fuckin' hell", John nearly rips himself away from you as he grunts the words against your parted lips, hands enveloping your face as he lets his forehead rest against you. Heavy exhales puff against your face in an attempt to steady his heaving chest, to rein in himself. He doesn't remain like that for long, shifting backwards as his eyes flutter open.

John's gaze locks with yours, eyes considerably darker than usual. Sodalite rather than aventurine. A warm shiver runs down your spine, unable to continue meeting those blues due to the flush spreading through your body. And yet, despite the tangible tension, a chuckle travels up your throat when your flickering eyes halt at one spot on his face.

Your amusement and thumb swiping over John's lips to wipe away the lipstick now coating them in a faint red pop the feverish bubble, turning it somewhat softer, less desperate.

When the added colour fades, you finally lock eyes with John again, finding they've creased in the corners.

"Maybe we should get you out of this, so I don't go about tainting that, as well", you hum, fingers falling to toy with his white dress shirt, mindful to keep the thumb you'd wiped his lips with at bay. Only a deep hum escapes John, yet it's enough for you to make do with your suggestion.

Your fingers find the first golden button on his army jacket, unbuttoning that, then the next and all the ones until it falls open. Hands moving inside, you feel the warmth of his skin shielded beneath his dress shirt.

Your hands move up his chest, over his shoulders, until you move the dark blue jacket down his arms. John shrugs out of it, and while letting his wool coat drop to the floor, you're mindful of the jacket, grabbing it in one hand as you move him backwards by pressing your body against his, lips teasingly close but not kissing, only brushing as your breaths mingle.

When you're close enough, you drape his jacket over the chair by the desk before attempting to move on to the next piece of clothing. But apparently, you move too slow for John as he steps back, yanking his tie loose to tug over his head, throwing it to the side. The buttons on his shirt make a frustrated grunt leave him before it's tossed aside as well. While your eyes never leave him, you slip out of your coat, letting it fall to the floor with no greater care than he'd done his clothes seconds later.

Not only does your gaze drop to John's now-bared chest. Your hands move on their own, feeling him up, sliding over his pecs and the slight patch of brown hair covering them before they slide lower, over his stomach, reaching the happy trail beneath his navel. But too soon, your exploration of his burly upper body ends, John moving out of your reach as he steps backwards.

Not until his shins hit the edge of the bed and he sits down does he stop putting space between you.

You watch as his shoes are toed off, all while keeping eye contact with you. Not until John raises a finger, motioning for you to come closer, do you follow him.

You're about to straddle his lap when he stops you, making a twirly motion with his hand. Your head tilts even if you listen, turning your back to him. Gripping your hips, John steers you to sit on his thigh. You wobble slightly as you do, hands shooting to stabilise yourself by grabbing his hand and his other thigh as you press your feet to the floor to keep stable upon the muscular seat.

Once he notices you've found your balance, his big paws slide up your body until his fingers brush the back of your neck. There's barely an ounce of fiddling before you feel the clasp of the dress unhook, and the zipper descends.

Kisses are pressed against the nape of your neck, the top of your spine and a last one on your shoulder blade before John squeezes your hips, urging you to stand with a delicate push upwards and forward. As you do, the heavy fabric of the dress falls to the floor, collecting in a lustrous circle around your feet.

When turning to face the man whose attention never averted from you, only your necklace, panties, and heels are the remnants of your previous outfit.

"Always so fuckin' pretty beneath those things", John mumbles, hands rising from his sides. But, before his hands can reach for you, you settle one of your own on his equally naked chest, giving a gentle shove. But the brunette doesn't heed your want, not letting himself be budged an inch.

"Scoot up, John". You nod upward the bed, positioning one knee between his legs on the tiny sliver of the mattress available. He cocks his head in intrigue, hand grasping the back of your thigh, running up and down with gentle gropes.

"What you plannin', love?"

You press your lips together, John's eyes flickering downwards before returning in a slow trail upwards to meet your gaze. "Wanna be good after how I've teased you, Captain". Your voice drops, nearly entering a purr as you trail your fingers to his jaw.

You see him shudder, goosebumps flittering down his forearms as his big hand squeezes the back of your thigh.

"Fine then", John moves up the bed, and you crawl after him, effectively shrugging off your heels that thud to the floor as you do.

As he makes himself comfortable, you busy yourself with opening his belt and rucking down his pants and boxers in one. John's flushed and erect cock bobs upwards towards his stomach as he lifts his hips for you. Just as you rid him of his pants, you remember something.

When you scoot off the bed again, you haphazardly throw his pants over the same stool as his jacket, moving towards your purse. John props himself on one elbow, brows pulling together as he follows you.

"Thought you say you wouldn't tease, eh?" His voice is husky, verging on impatient as you look over your shoulder, watching as he wraps a hand around the base of himself, most likely not the touch he'd liked as a frustrated rather than pleasurable grunt leaves him.

"I'm not, just fulfilling my promise", you say, wiggling the lipstick you'd fished out before returning to him.

Moving up the bed, you settle on your knees between John's muscular legs. Opening the case, your gaze locks with his as you coat your lips in a more noticeable red. The sight makes his cock twitch in his hand, his head notching backwards slightly, resting on his shoulder, without ever letting those blues leave you.

You shoo away his hand when you're done and throw your lipstick aside, your fingers wrapping around him instead. A pleased hum vibrates from John's chest as he relaxes backwards, head settling against the pillows.

Although promising not to tease, you press a few firm kisses to the lowest parts of his stomach, along his adonis belt and the area just above the cock you're pumping lazily with twisting motions, colouring his skin with red lip-marks.

When satisfied with your work, you finally slot your lips around him, the sudden heat of your mouth making John's cock jerk, one of his hands instinctually shooting to the back of your head with a drawn-out groan filling the air.

Despite usually building up to a swift pace gradually, pulling out the process to build his pleasure, you don't hesitate to overwhelm John with how you drop an inch or two down his cock immediately, tightly sealing your lips around his shaft, doing everything to leave those marks you'd promised around his cock.

"Fuck". John's hips jerk upwards, not expecting the suddenness of your actions, though he manages to stop the full thrust by slamming his head backwards, hand tightening considerably at the back of your head.

A smugness fills your chest as you pull back slightly, suckling the tip leaking precum, tongue swiping back and forth over his frenulum while your hand creates slow, circular rotations at his base.

Through the lowest corner of your eyes, you notice the red rings around his cock, yet you steadily look upwards, following how John's head rises again, eyes half-lidded as your gazes lock. But those blues don't meet yours for long before they fall, the twitch of him inside your mouth and the near growl telling you he also spots the stains left behind by your lipstick.

"Those pretty lips makin' such lovely marks 'round my cock". The sound of his voice is so rough and delicious that your cunt clenches around nothing. "Such a good girl, ain'tcha, love?" You release him with a pop, but rather than answer, you collect your spit on your tongue, stretching it out as your hand moves upwards. Letting the glob of spit hit his cockhead, you coat his saft in the slickness with a pumping motion.

"Fuckin' hell", John rasps, sounding almost pained as his eyelids flutter close, head falling backwards. Your smile is brief before you slot your lips around him again, bobbing your head up and down half of his length, the rest squeezed and jerked by your hand.

"Suckin' me off s'good. Come on, deeper you go". He's not even looking at you as he speaks, his throaty words subdued into the air, almost as if he chokes on them halfway through. If anything, it makes you moan around him as you let the hand on the back of your head press you all the way down until he hits the back of your throat. "Jus' like that", he groans between clenched teeth.

As your tongue plays with the underside of his length and head bobs up and down, you feel him twitch violently inside your mouth, beefy thighs pressing against the side of yours, timbre-low sounds stemming from deep in his chest.

As John finally opens his eyes and looks down at you once more, always so transfixed with the way you desire to please him, he catches the faint glimmer of your jewellery behind the hand and mouth busy with his cock. The stones in the pendant glitter despite the room's dimness, the light from outside finding its way to make them gleam. What's remarkable is that your eyes harbour the shame glint.

Although heady with lust, your eyes are bright, excited, as your gaze meets his. The fact that you love this just as much as he does is enough to make him groan and tip his head backwards, wallowing in the pleasure creeping up his spine.

Only when a slurping noise fills the air as you suck purposefully and tongue plays the underside of his cockhead, does John's release hurtle dangerously close, and he pulls you off with a firm grip on your hair.

"I wasn't done".

"You're gonna be the death of me". That comment melts your stare into a smile.

"Don't die on me, handsome".

"C'mere". John's hand falls from your hair to grip your jaw, pulling you upwards. Your arms shoot to catch you, stabilising on either side of his body as he bends forward, crashing his lips against yours halfway.

It's dirty, your tongue slipping against John's as he pushes into your mouth, no doubt tasting himself on you. But it doesn't bother him, never has, not when it's on your lips that he tastes himself.

"You wet, love?" He groans against your lips before slanting his mouth against yours anew, your whined 'yes' going straight into his mouth. You unconsciously press your legs together, wiggling your hips, the motion along your forward-bent position exposing your drenched panties to the considerably cooler air. It urges another sound into the mesh of lips, a whine of discomfort this time.

"Bet you fuckin' are, love suckin' my cock".

A shudder runs down your whole back. "John-"

"Love bein' fucked even more, eh? Get on your back". The demand barely leaves his lips before you shift over his form, laying down just to the left of his previous position in the king-sized bed.

John moves between your legs, resting on his haunches as he pulls both your legs upwards, squeezing them together as he lets them rest against his chest. With a yank, he pulls your panties off your hips, the wetness on the crotch area dragging against the inside of your thighs as he tugs off the piece of fabric.

You don't know where they end up, wide eyes following John as he lets your legs down, pinning your thighs to the side, wasting no time before his hand slips over your cunt.

"Fuckin' soppin'", he drawls, confirming the answer you'd given him. "Can't wait to feel me stretch you out, can you?" His thumb runs down to your fluttering entrance, teasingly pushing against it. Before he goes any deeper, though, he collects some of your slick and trails his thumb to your clit.

He plays with your bundle of nerves just the way he knows you like. The pressure, speed, and everything he'd learnt about your body is now utilised to get you even more desperate, even wetter. And it works like a bloody charm too, your gasps soon turning to low moans and whines.

"C'mon, love, gotta be quiet", John shushes you, settling a hand over your throat, your necklace digging into his palm. He doesn't squeeze, simply rests it there to accentuate his point, and yet, he doesn't let up on playing with your clit, not even as your squirm, his thumb only chasing you through the movement. "Can't let everyone hear you, now can we?"

Even if you realise John deliberately must have kept his voice down as you blew him -because, of course, you're not at home- even if you try your damnedest, you can't contain your sounds of pleasure.

"Can't", you whine. John makes a deep sound, something between soothing and a snarl that makes your heart jump. Your eyes widen when his gaze darkens and he leans closer, all while his fingers apply more pressure on your clit, the pace quickening. As his face hovers over yours, your mouth falls open, letting out just one of those breathy moans he told you to hold.

"Can't, eh?" John releases your throat and leans back, but not enough to sit straight. Instead, he bends your legs forward and hooks his arm around your waist, manually flipping you over with a swift jerk. "That should do the trick".

It's a strength you know he possesses, but it makes you gasp in surprise anyway, the sound now muffled as your head is slotted in the crease between pillows.

Two big paws suddenly grab your asscheeks, groping the fat as you feel the man behind you lean over you just after widening your legs with his knees.

"Stunnin' fuckin' view from back here. This pretty arse-", John spanks your ass with one hand, making you keen, instinctually arching your back towards John. "- and your lovely cunt, just weepin' for me", the same hand that soothed the sting of his slap slide to your wetness.

You beg, a please moaned from your lips as he stretched you, barely any trouble going from one to two fingers with a few pumps. When he doesn't respond, you try again, louder, but only get a chuckle in return.

"Can't hear you, love". Amusement fills John's voice, making you frustratedly whine into the mattress before pushing a pillow to the side, raising your head only to crane it over your shoulder. Sitting behind you is an awfully smug-looking Brit.

"Please", you breathe the whisper, now mindful of your tone, which only widens his smile as he leans over your sprawled-out form.

The sudden prodding against your entrance comes without any warning, and you whip your head around to press into the mattress, muffling your moan so violently that John chuckles. But the sound swiftly deepens, evolving into a tight-lipped groan as he slowly pushes deeper.

Your back arches when his pelvis hits your backside, your motion prompting the slow grind of his hips against you. He doesn't even pull out, only rolls his hips shallowly against your rear.

All John can do is work his hips back and forth, listening to your faint moans slipping from the mattress your face rests against and the slick sounds of your pretty pussy being fucked.

When he leans his weight forward, hands gripping your hips, John shoves himself even further inside you, driving your face further into the bed. You practically sob, clit pulsing and throbbing and god—

"Fuck, you feel s'good 'round me". The lewd way he said it, a groan breaking the sentence into two with the unhurried sound of skin slapping occasionally, had you choking on an affirming moan. "Makin' such a mess. Pretty cunt's so wet, stretched".

John stuffs his fat cock into you with slow, even thrusts from behind, watching how you grip him tight when he pulls out and sucks him in once he pushes forwards.

It's slow until it's not.

When John loses patience, or the pleasure simply gets too much for him not to chase more, he changes the pace, making the curve of your ass jiggle against his hips with each shove of his cock into your cunt. You push your face into the bedding as far as not choking yourself goes, moaning throatily as you clench around him.

He fills you so deliciously like this. Each firm press of his hips against your ass crams his entire girthy length into you as his balls push against your clit. The rocking motion fills the air with wet slaps that make your head spin and fingers curl into the covers.

You moan unabashedly as he fucks you. Deep and fast enough that he needs to angle your hips, but when you just keep sliding back prone against the bed from the force of his shoves, John simply leans over you with a growl, fucking you down into the bed.

Whining, you thrash your head at the way he pounds into your sweet spot buried so deep. With your mouth falling open, it's no surprise if saliva soaks the fabric beneath your face.

Your orgasm doesn't even build slowly. It's a tumbling mess that, once it starts, just picks up momentum until you hurl face-forwards into it. It's so violent it catches John off-guard. The sudden way you shudder with a broken moan, the muscle of your back tensing, walls clamping down on him, everything without him even having to play with your clit, tells him you were just as worked up and exhausted as him, not able to do anything but let the pressure release.

"Fuck", he curses, thick and dark, feeling you get even slicker and tremble beneath his fingers.

Even through your drunken haze, you catch the drawn-out vowel of the word, which tells you John's close.

What surprises you, however, is that rather than rut irregularly into you until he buries himself deep and comes, his hand shoots to rest beside your head to catch his weight when he falls forward, slipping out of you in the process. Leaving your fluttering aftershocks to clench around nothing.

You feel as John jerks himself, his knuckles brushing over your skin rapidly. His breath cascades over the back of your head, head probably hanging low between his shoulders as he gazes down your body. Albeit not knowing what he has in mind -his fixation on spilling deep inside you as he pushes himself as close as possible to you no secret- you arch your spine, wiggling your ass upwards.

It prompts a deep, growling moan from him before his breath does a little hitch, then he groans, pleased and drawn out as you feel his release shoot over your ass and then straight over your pussy.

The bed quivers beside your head, all strength momentarily escaping John's burly frame that slackens against your back. Although he slumps to his forearm to keep most of his weight off, his other hand resting on the bed near the dip of your waist, he still presses you considerably deeper into the mattress.

John's heaving exhales disturb your hair, but your eyes remain closed, your whole body feeling light and satisfied as you relax, fingers uncurling from the covers.

When the man behind you finally moves, you don't have the energy to rise and look at what he does when he grabs your cheeks in his big hands, massaging the plush flesh with parting motions. But, you can only imagine he stares at the white ropes of cum coating your rear, gaze dropping to follow the way it dribbles down over your cunt.

Even if John doesn't do it for long, a pleased hum fills the air before he stops.

His hands are suddenly replaced with something that swipes over your asscheek and down between your legs. Despite twitching at the contact as it moves along your sensitive core, you release an appreciative sound as he wipes you clean of your releases. John replies by bending forward, kissing your shoulder-blade before shifting off you with a last squeeze to your hip.

Despite feeling the mattress dip beside you, his form slumping to the side with a low grunt, you already miss his warmth.

You breathe heavily, your exhale bordering on a whine warming the covers your face is burrowed in. When your sound gets nothing in return, your breath out softly again, hand searching for John. Just as your hand lands upon his chest, you catch a chuckle before fingers wrap around your wrist. You're tugged sideways, pulled partly onto the chest you'd fumbled your way to feeling.

Although now looking down at John, you don't see much of him, your hair is mussed enough that most of your vision is covered. A giggle escapes you while a huff of amusement passes through John's nose as he brushes your face clear of its momentary shield.

"There she is", John hums when your gazes lock with nothing in between. There's a tug in the corner of his lip, eyes lidded as he watches you.

The tilt of his head and craning of his neck is slow. The kiss he initiates is equally deliberate and sweet. Although the exchange is brief, as he parts, John lingers close to your face with his forehead resting against yours, hand brushing over your cheek feathery light.

He murmurs something low enough you can't catch but hum in return nonetheless. A few seconds later, he rises from the bed. As he does, you move to your back, wiggling beneath the sheets to not experience the cold, knowing the sheet must be warmed thanks to your bodies. A content sigh leaves you when you realise you've been right.

As your gaze settles upon John's bare form, rifling around his bag for whatever he's searching for, you can't help how your eyes trail over him. That's how your eyes locate the faint red marks littering his body, some more smudged than others.

Your giggle catches John's attention as he shifts towards you, a pair of boxer briefs now in his hands. But rather than meet his gaze, your eyes flitter over his form, numerous outlines of red lips littered along his lower stomach and groin. Your laughter intensifies, and John follows your line of attention, only to tilt his head upwards again with a smile when he finds what caught your attention.

"You look real pretty with my lipstick all over you", you comment once your laugh fades, head tilting against the pillow behind your head, eyes locking with John's.

"Quiet the artist", he chuckles as he pulls on his underwear.

"It isn't waterproof, so you'll be able to wash it off with water".

"Think about makin' one of 'em into a tattoo". John points to one of the still near-perfect copies of your lips just inside his hipbone and above his waistband. "Make 'em permanent". His wink makes your mouth fall open.

"Please don't!" Your revolt makes him chuckle.

"What do I get if I don't?"

"Me only asking for a pair of pants and not a shirt along with them. And cuddles?" You stretch out your arms towards John with your offer. He huffs a laugh, moving to your bag to dig through it for your underwear.

"Never sayin' no to half-naked cuddles with you, love", you shake your head fondly just before the clothing article you requested is thrown your way.

As John rounds the bed, you lean forward to snatch your panties from the covers. You barely have enough time to slip them on before John, with practised ease, settles into the bed on his side and pulls you close, naked chests pressed against each other.

You sigh in contentment as John's warmth seeps into your body, arms winding around his neck to get closer and being able to graze your nails through the hair on the back of his head, which makes him pull you even closer in return.

The moment drags on as you card fingers through his hair. Every now and then, you feel the gel he'd cursed over as he styled it before the event, still intact at certain places despite the overall moussed state of his locks.

Somewhere along the way, a hefty, pleased sigh leaves the man holding you as his head burrows into your neck, nuzzling against the necklace still around your throat. Your eyes flutter close upon the rhythmic breaths puffing against your skin, melting more into John's burly body.

"You're awfully cuddly tonight", you hum but make no move to disturb the peaceful air by moving.

"Could say the same about you".

You chuckle at the response breathed against your skin. "Can never get too much of you". A set of warm lips press a kiss to your throat, making you hum contentedly before continuing to speak. "Especially not after tonight when everyone's been fighting for your attention".

There's a few seconds of silence and then a sigh.

"More people goin' to fight for it soon". Your brows pull together at the sudden shift of air when John emerges from your neck, blue eyes locking with yours. "Before introducin' you to Laswell, I got informed we're set out on a mission."

You sighed, nodding at his explanation. It was only about time. "When?

"A week, but it won't be a long one". You perk up at that, John noticing, a small smile tugging in the corner of his lips. "Estimated to be back home before Christmas".

"Yeah?" He hummed an affirmative. Your smile twitched just slightly wider, unable not to press a kiss to his lips. You felt his chuckle just before you parted from him.

"Someone's happy about that". John's brows arched, head tilting to the side.

"Just... didn't have much planned for Christmas this year, so I thought about maybe asking-", you got interrupted by his lips pressing against yours this time. The passion with which John kissed you made your chest flutter.

"Wanted you with me this weekend just in case you had somethin' in the calendar or I wasn't home", he breathed against your lip when putting some distance between the two of you again.

You bite your lower lip, brows raising. "John, are you saying you wanted to ask me about spending Christmas together too?"

"Didn't know if it was an awfully traditional period for you", he said, giving you a half-hearted shrug.

"How sweet of you". You cooed, pecking John's lips, earning yourself a content huff from the man cocooning you with his arms and body. "But I would've wanted to spend some time with you no matter what". As you said this, that handsome smile of John's unfolds as he pulls you on top of him. He released a deep chuckle at your slight squeal, only for both of your sounds to fade as he stared up at you and you down at him.

God, you couldn't wait until Christmas.

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puppyguppy · 6 months ago

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There's a moment a few select individuals were privy to. A memory forever burned into some lucky handful of brains; those that'd been there, and not drunk enough to forget it. No one's sure if Aizawa even remembers it -- the core of the memory itself. That moment-maker. Not a single soul has been brave enough to bring it back up, or maybe everyone's just been too busy, recovering still, and rebuilding.

Which is what should've happened that night, but.

Those lucky, lucky few disagree.

Vehemently.

All in all, it'd been good for everyone.

An irresponsible reprieve, yes, but they were all so sick of being strong and responsible and the ones left alive. Aizawa, one of the most. Maybe the most -- out of the adults around, anyways. (Not that the kids could really be considered kids anymore.)

So, maybe that's why he'd allowed himself to drink so much. To drink so much, and let it go to his head instead of his heart. To drink so much, and let it take him to the dancefloor of the club, instead of the couch in his campus apartment. He'd still be in uniform, technically, not that anyone cared about that in the interim. The upper half of his jumpsuit had been folded and knotted around his waist though, chest clad in a black tank top. He'd had his hair tied up -- sort of. In this messy updo he'd temporarily adopted, which infuriated some and sexually frustrated others. Not that he knew, or cared. At least, that'd been the general assumption.

But, war changed a man.

As did twelve drinks.

Or, maybe, he'd always been like that.

After all, he had been friends with the R-Rated Hero, and Present Mic was only just barely any better.

It'd been Yamada, actually, that'd sparked the whole thing. No one knows exactly what he'd said, or did, outside of say something in Aizawa's ear and sway his hips. But, it'd made Aizawa laugh; the kind of laugh that'd thrown his head back and everything. And then, for those that'd just so happened to have been watching; heads turned and eyes pulled to that one particular spot on the sweaty, crowded floor, like Fate herself had guided them --

They got to watch Aizawa dance.

They got to watch him pop a hip, and then the other, the action immediately repeated and accentuated by the bunch of his costume around his waist. He'd been on beat without even trying, his body not even stuttering as pops smoothly rolled into waves. While the song that'd been playing at the time had been suggestive, what Aizawa had done with his body had been borderline obscene. Even if only because anyone watching felt like they'd gotten a glimpse of some Victorian lass's ankle for the very first time. And then.

And then.

He'd done this cheeky little spin on his good leg, thrown his head back again, his tank top stretched just enough to expose a little strip of hip, and -

and his hair had fallen, fluffy and gorgeous and all down in his face, the hairtie lost to the abyss of bodies. It'd shocked him into another laugh, but not bad enough to stop him from dancing, from damn near grinding -- no, that'd only stopped once Yamada couldn't take it anymore, and slapped his ass with a hand before more or less collapsing against his side.

He'd looked so young, for just those few minutes. Which was to say, he'd looked his age. Despite everything, despite the loss, he'd looked happy. And so, so fucking hot.

And for some, more than two but less than a hundred, that's now the memory that gets them through the day.

And well into the night.

The world was worth saving, the war worth winning, and the aftermath worth surviving.

#aizawa shouta #aizawa #third person pov #tw: alcohol #drinking #something silly and stupid based off a tiktok that made me bite my lip

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ch3rriiii-bunn · 2 years ago

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Won't you join us?

THE WAY I'VE BEEN WANTING TO MAKE A OBAMITSU X BLACK READER AHHHH <333 Bye its so long lol hope you enjoy

Warnings: black fem!reader, hashira reader, mention of scars from battles, hinted insecurities about scars, minor manga spoilers, scar kissing, 3some, over stimulation (?), praising but some degrading from iguro, dom iguro, switch mituri, switch reader, squirting

You've been in the demon slayer core for 3 years now. You were actually recommended by mitsuri since she was assigned to save your village, she just couldn't over look your bravery and how you were able to take up a weapon and fight a demon along side her.

You met iguro when you joined the demon slayer core, starting as a low rank. You didn't exactly hate iguro at the time. You understood his overprotective mindset towards his loving girlfriend mitsuri, but it was a bit much at times. Surprisingly, you had a lot in common with iguro.

You had told both iguro and mitsuti your uniform covers you from the neck, down because you wanted to hide all the scars you've gotten from fighting demons. Iguro grew closer to you and told you about his scar on his face. Mitsuri loved how that was the moment iguro finally got close to you since you were very dear to her.

As the years went by, you eventually made it to being a hashira. It was a bitter sweet moment since the spot was open from the former flame hashira, but mitsuri and iguro welcomed you with open arms. "Y/n, we are going to get some food! Wanna come?" Mitsuri always asked you so sweetly, and you could never refuse, that and iguro would give you the death stare wanting you to come as well.

You've spent much more time with a couple, almost like you were a part of their relationship. The other hashira would tease you about it since most of the time they'd invite you on their dates, but you would never be a third wheel. "It's not like that. I'm just close with them, you know?" You laugh but see the serious looks on iguro and mitsuris face. "What's so bad about thinking that!? Y/n is very dear to me" Mitsuri said, pouting. "y/n is a woman worthy of my respects" iguro said.

They'd often say possessive things when it comes to you, almost way past the limit of friendship, but you didn't mind it. Their compliments would be way past friendship levels as well. You've been complimented many times by your braids and how you style them with hair pins and accessories, also how full and beautiful your lips looked when you wore the lipstick most female slayers wore.

Mitsuri and iguro agreed braids looked amazing on you, but seeing your natural hair is where they'd praise you like their girlfriend. "Y/n!!! Your hair is so beautiful and fluffy!! I love it! You look so hot!" Mitsuri would say like it's nothing but then blush in embarrassment when she dose realize. "Your nature hair is beautiful on you. You're only allowed to look this beautiful for mitsuri.. and me," iguro will say with a straight face.

The hashira would just say that you're in a relationship with both iguro and mitsuti. Even if you'd tell them no in the back of your mind, it felt like you were. It did stay on your mind for a while. You'd brush it off, but you couldn't help but grow an attachment to them and often catch yourself looking at them with loving eyes when they speak to you or even around you.

You walked out of the masters house after being called in for a meeting and sighed. "his health is getting worse... I wish I could help him more, " you thought, already greeving for your beloved master and not noticing the small noises you heard as you approached the turning point to leave the mansion.

You couldn't sense any demons. It was still evening, too bright for any demons to show themselves. You slowly approached the turning point closer to make out the noise, your heart dropped when the noises you were hearing were muffled moans and clothes rustling against each other.

You sighed, understanding what was going on the other side and rubbed your forehead in annoyance. As a hahsira you and the others have delt with these kinds of things before where demon slayers will do inappropriate things on their work time and it's always the hashira who have to check them.

You mentally got yourself together and walked around the corner. "Enough. Don't do these foolish things...by the masters... house" all the blood rushed to your face to see it wasn't any regular slayers it was mitsuri and iguro.

They turn their heads, breaking their kiss and gasping, looking at you. Iguro being behind mituri with his hands on her hips and her skirt Hiked up with her legs spread apart taking iguros cock deep inside her. You kept staring at them until mitsuri spoke, "y-y/n let me-" before she could finish, you slapped your hands on your face to cover your eyes. "I'm sorry!" You squealed and ran, bumping into a tree, making you fall backward.

"Y/n! hold on a second- Shit" iguro pulls out of mitsuri and you see his cock hang down with mitsuri's mess on it. You gasped loudly "no no! It's ok! Go back to what you were doing!" You quickly got up and ran away, trying to pretend you didn't see a thing.

It's been a week since the incident. Iguro and mitsuri couldn't force you to speak to them since every time you saw them, you'd get all flustered and turn in the opposite direction. You didn't mean to be rude, and you even felt bad, but you didn't know how to approach them after seeing what they knew you saw.

The master had summoned you, iguro, and mitsuri to discuss your next mission. It involved protecting a popular village that supports the demon slayers core with medicine and has been having strange demon events happening there.

You raised your hand. "Forgive me for speaking out of turn master... but do you think I'm suitable for this mission? Mitsuri and iguro are much stronger than I, " you said, trying to find some excuse to back out. Iguro stared at you, almost like he was furious, but in truth, he felt deeply hurt. You kept your head down. You knew iguro was staring at you and couldn't brush off the cold sensation.

"I assigned you since your censorabilities will be very usual for this mission, especially since it's on a hasiras level. You'll be accompanied by two hashira you're most close with. Am I mistaken? Are you not close with iguro and mitsuri?" Kagaya asked.

You took a moment to respond. You knew you were being stupid and stubborn by not talking to them about the situation, but at the end of the day, you loved them both dearly. "You're not mistaken master. You're correct. These two are my beloved, close friends. Pardon my rudeness earlier. " You bowed and turned your head to them.

Mitsuri was blushing so much at your words, feeling so much relief she started sweating. iguro wipes her sweat, and his eyes change from narrow to rounded with light in his eyes.

On the mission, things went back to their usual self. Mitsuri was clingy to you as always, and you and iguro bumped heads but in joking seriously ways. The demon situation at the village didn't take too long to handle. You ended up getting hurt, making mitsuri panic so hard she almost failed, but you were fine, of course. "Mitsuri, it's just a cut on my leg, see? They already took care of it. " You try to calm her down "NOOO MY PRECIOUS Y/N!!!!!,

It was still too early to go back. The people at the village offered you to stay one more day to rest and to heal from your injury. After the bath you took with mitsuri in the bathhouse, you went with her to her shared room with iguro. Mitsuri opened the door, and you had seen iguro sitting on the bed, playing with his snake Kaburamaru.

You didn't think much of it and decided to sit next to iguro, letting his snake lick your hand and come towards you. "So what did you guys wanna talk about? Is it the injury I got? Because it's healed already, just kinda sore," you chuckled. "No... actually, we wanted to talk to you about that day, " iguro said. You went silent.

"We're sorry!" Mitsuri burst out loud, bowing her head extremely flustered. "It was my idea to do it with iguro at the time! I was sure no one was around, but you ended up seeing, and then you started to avoid us! I'm sorry!!!" Mitsuri said, and you saw fat tears fall from her face.

You lift Mitsuri's head up and quickly wipe her tears away "Mitsuri it's okay! Don't cry. Please don't cry and don't even apologize. If anyone should be saying sorry it's me, I shouldn't have avoided you guys, " you said and hugged Mitsuri. "Yeah, you should apologize. I could understand how you felt but avoiding us? What did you think we'd do?" Iguro said, almost angry.

"Iguro, be nice," Mitsuri said, still hugging you. "I don't know what I was thinking. I just went stupid and lost all common senses on what to do in the situation. For that, I am sorry, " you said, looking at iguro. There was silence in the room before iguro spoke again. "Why did you just stand there that day. Usually, if someone sees people having sex in public, they'd be grossed out, but you didn't look grossed out, " iguro said.

"I just... well. It's you guys and I'd never be grossed out by you" you said letting go of Mitsuri and looking down at your knees "I guess I could say I didn't mind it but I left after because I shouldn't be watching" you chuckled nervously. "I wouldn't mind if it's you y/n," Mitsuri said.

You could've sworn you heard her wrong. What did she mean by that? You had so many questions running in your head and then stopped once you felt the two hold your hands. "We would never mind if it's you seeing us like that y/n. Right iguro?" Mitsuri asked with a big smile, and iguro nodded. You look at them and couldn't hide your feelings anymore, "you know... the other hashira love to tease us about being a relationship, but now it feels like we are having a couples talk."

Iguro scoffs. "What if I told you mitsuri and I would want you to be in a relationship with us. Would it be awkward?" Iguro asked, intertwining his fingers with yours. "No, it wouldn't," you said softly, looking at iguro. Mitsuri scoots herself closer to you, getting in the middle, and leans closer to you. "y/n. Is it okay if I kiss you?" Mitsuri asked.

You bit your lip and nodded. Mitsuri leaned in, cupping your cheeks with both her hands, kissing you passionately. Her lips were so soft, so plumbed you loved the taste of her lipstick on your lips and getting lost in her hold with her warm, soft hands. You noticed moments after to see iguro taking off his mask and revealing his scar.

You took a moment to look at his scar, stretched almost to his ears, and noticed how iguro didn't look at you, only waiting for your response. Once mitsuri pulled back from the kiss, you went closer to iguro. "You're beautiful," you smiled. Iguro looked at you, almost shocked and tried to not get emotional, only letting himself smile at your response.

Iguro leans closer to you and puts his hand on your neck, pushing your clothing aside just enough to see the scar that starts at your neck. "So are you," he said. You chuckle "its just one scar you're seeing. Would you still think im beautiful with many scars?" You flirt but also being serious. "Of course I would" iguro said, putting his hand on your neck bringing you into a deep kissm

Moments after you two pulled back and looked at mitsuri, who was so happy to see her two most loved ones see the beauty in each other, almosy bring her to tears. "You're both so beautiful," she said, cupping your cheek with one hand and iguro with the other taking turns by kissing you and iguro switching a few seconds.

The sun went down, darking the room, and the three of you were still on the bed. Mitsuri took out her braids and laid down on her side and iguro laying next to her with just enough space for once more person to be in the middle.

Mitsuri pats the spot in the middle and looks at you with a sweet yet seductive smile. "Won't you join us tonight, my love?" She asked, blushing even with her ears turning red. "Let's make you ours tonight," iguro added, holding out his hand to you.

You didn't even need to say yes. You took iguro's hand and laid down between the two to get the long night started.

It was hot, the bed was a mess, clothes scattered and moans filling the room with mitsuri on the right side, playing with your nipple between her fingers kissing you deeply and her tounge swirling around yours. Iguro on the right side, having his thumb rub your clit with his twi fingers deep inside feeling your wetness and having his lips on your neck, bitting and sucking on it.

Mitsuri broke the kiss with a moan, grinding her pussy against your leg "y/n your legs won't stop trembling, are you going to cum?" She asked and leaned her head down to lick at your nipple. You nod looking at her with teary eyes "not yet" iguro said pulling his fingers out and you whined from your ruined orgasm. "Tell her what you want, Mitsuri." iguro looks at mitsuri.

Mitsuri holds your hands and kisses your jawline "I want you under me, licking my pussy with iguros cock inside me. Please can I feel your tounge on my clit? Please y/n. I've always thought about it," Mitsuri begs. "I've always tounge about having my tounge here too" you confess touching mitsuri's pussy, rubbing at her clit making her mewl at your touch.

"Look how wet she is" iguro crawls over to mitsuris side to open her legs and uses his fingers to spread her pussy open. "Mm, you're more we than ever. I saw how wet you were from obed there." iguro slides his fingers through her wet folds. "Is it because y/n is here?" Iguro pointed out with a smirk, and mitsuri covered her face. "Yes! Don't be a tease iguro!" Mitsuri whines. Iguro and you exchanged looks, smiling at her cuteness.

"Come on. Let us take care of you, mitsuri, " you said, getting in a 69 postion with you lying down and mitsuri's lower half hovering over your face. you saw iguro line his cock up with mitsuris pussy teasing her. "He's big, isn't he y/n?" Mitsuri looked down at you through her boobs hanging down. "He is really big. For a short guy" you joked and touched iguros cock. "After I'm done with mituri I think I won't go so easy on you for that little joke" he said, putting his cock inside her making mitsuri let out a moan.

You hum and held mitsuris thighs licking at her throbbing clit and already felt her become a trembling mess, moaning at the doubled pleasure she's receiving. "how's y/ns tounge baby? You're clenching down on me so hard it must feel good, mm?" Iguro asked mitsuri. "It's so good! Your tongue feels so good y/n, and with iguros cock in me! Oh, it's so good~ " She whines, moving her hips in circles to feel more pleasure from your flatten tongue.

Your hand went down to your clit, rubbing at it from how turned on mitsuri's moans were, getting eaten out by you, sucking on her clit and her taking a cock at the same time and how dumb she became from the pleasure. "aahh!! I'm cumming! Cumming cumming!" Mitsuri sobs, almost screaming as she orgasm.

Iguro made a big thrust, filling her up and pulling out moments after. You crawled out from underneath mitsuri and cleaned your mouth off from her juice. "You also tasted amazing mitsuri," you commented, making her hide her face. "Now it's you're turn" iguro whispers in your ear, biting it softly. "Lay down on your side y/n." Iguro said

"Mm," you hummed with a smile, laying down on your side with your back arched to tease him. Before iguro got started, he began to kiss at your body, especially where your scars were. "You're beautiful. So beautiful, " he said with each kiss, and mitsuri did the same."Your body is beautiful. No scar could ever take that away, " she said so sweetly, bringing her face to yours

"it felt so good having your clit played with while being penetrated. You should feel it too y/n" mitsuri said and licked her fingers, lubricating them and started to rub at your clit. Iguro got behind you, lifting your leg up and shoved his cock inside you without warning making you gasp.

You used your hand to reach behind you to push iguro back by his abdomen, but he cups your boob and grabbed it to hold you in place. "Don't run from it, y/n. Look how good your taking my cock." Iguro kisses the back of your neck "squeezing me in so much you cant let me go can you?" he says lowly in your ear, thrusting his hips slow yet hitting hard making you whimper out. "you're gonna be good and listen to me yeah? Since you want to make that joke earlier. How dose my cock feel in your messy pussy from a short guy?" He chuckles

Your mouth hangs open with your loud moans filling the room. You tried to hide your voice, dare someone walk by and hear you but iguro only puts his fingers in your mouth, preventing you from hiding your voice "what whoreish moans your letting out. Looks like you want more if your moaning like that on my cock. Or is it mituri giving you more pleasure? Tell us y/n" iguro said, snapping his hips faster.

Mitsuri began to rub your clit faster and lifts your chin up to look at her. "I love you y/n" she said and kissed you "I love this face you're making for me right now, if only iguro could see it. So pretty" Mitsuri smiles "you're voice is so cute. Why would you hide it from us?" she kisses you and goes down to your boobs and starts sucking at your nipple.

"Dose it feel good when I do this?" She asked and you nod quickly, to fucked out to even answer "You're such a good girl, cum for us" Mitsuri kept rubbing your clit, not getting tired since she could do this all day thanks to her given arm strength. "So good, such a fucking girl" iguro moans.

They say that with their sweet words and iguros, soft kisses and love bites almost distract you from their rough actions. "Please, please, I'm so close. Please let me cum" you begged "yeah thats it, cum on my cock. Show me what a messy slut you can be" iguro said, pouding his cock, bullying his tip on your spot.

"Let go y/n. Cum for me" Mituri said. Your legs tremble with tears rolling down your face from the over situation and squirt. Iguro cums inside you through your orgasm and he chuckles with heavy breaths "good girl" he spanks your ass and pulls out of you. Mituri pulls you in her arms and pets your head, laying down. "You did so well, my love," she said and kissed your forehead.

You gave her a half smile and rested your head on her big, soft boobs. You felt iguros hand run up your thighs and grabbed your ass, rubbing it and him doing the same action to mitsuri. "Just lay back and relax. I'll clean up the mess, " he said, and mituri nodded happily

"Thanks, iguro," you said, closing your eyes.

#demon slayer smut #kny smut #iguro x reader #iguro smut #mitsuri x reader #mitsuri smut #black y/n

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satureja13 · 2 months ago

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After Dayn had left, Jack and Jeb went to the security office to check these ominous letters from Jasmine Holiday. Seems the winterfest season has begun (!) and she has a few tasks for them. The Boys totally missed it - they completely lost track of time out here in space! They aren't even aware of if it's night or day. Every time is night time out here... One of the first tasks was stargazing. Now, that was easy. They hadn't started the engines yet so Jeb and Jack were able to gaze at a lot of stars! Then they went down to the crew mess to cook Japchae, as requested. Jack already was excited about winterfest in September, so he urged Jeb to put on their winterfest sweaters. Jeb: "Are you sure this goes conform with the starfleet protocol?" Jack: "Of course it does! We still wear our uniforms. Just beneath the sweaters ;) And since our communications system still doesn't work, no one sees it anyway."

Jack already hung up the wreath they got as reward for stargazing :3 With the galaxy freezer boney in front of it. To protect Kiyoshi's cheese from Lenny.

Meanwhile Saiwa and Ji Ho had started their shift. They can't really contribute to the ship's repairs or research for a cure for Ji Ho, so they are cleaning up a bit. (They'd made a mess when they lived here at the bridge with the Little Goats and Malfoy.) Scrutinized by the gardening bot, Lenny and the Little Goats. The Boys had searched thoroughly for the Romantium ore, but the Little Goats seem to have hidden it well this time. Little Goat: 'They are going to keep an eye on the ventilation openings in the future. No chance to place it there again...' Little Goat: 'We could hide it in their rooms again. Not as effective but still better than nothing.' Little Goat agreed: 'Which room first?'

As soon as Vlad and Kiyoshi confirmed the new route to the outpost in the astrometrics lab, Sai and Ji Ho are going to start the engines to take their detour to gather the missing pieces for the repair of the communication system and the other devices... Vlad and Ji Ho's meteorites were glowing and humming in their container... They hover so close together, it almost looks like it's one piece.

After the route was set, Vlad and Kiyoshi were supposed to sleep to take over one of the next shifts. But they went to the other engine room first. Kiyoshi briefed Vlad (since he and Jack were on duty at the bridge when Dayn showed it to the others). He also told Vlad Dayn and the former crew used the cooling basin as a hot tub and that he can't wait to try it out with Jack. Kiyoshi: "Or shall we two dive in before bed?" Vlad: "Uh, maybe another time. I'm too tired after all that commotion over the last days." Vlad is a loner and after being caged at the bridge with all the others for who knows how long, he's craving his alone time.

Kiyoshi left, he's tired too and no one knows how long they are allowed to sleep until the next madness happens... He hopes Jack will join him soon. He's missing having him in his arms and being close to his mate. Vlad looked at the basin. Now that the Romantium wasn't permeating the air of the ship anymore - will Ji Ho and him ever end up here together? He hopes Ji Ho will at least join him in their bed later, when he finished his shift. Vlad relived their picknick at the 'meadow', when he'd kissed Ji Ho. It had felt so easy then - by courtesy of the Romantium? Vlad almost wishes it back. But he has to find ways to be close to Ji Ho without it. He doesn't want Ji Ho to just want him because he's under the influence of an ore...

The Little Ones are sleeping too. Only Skully is still awake. He already decorated a bit for Winterfest! And he switched to his Winterfest playlist.

Currently it's playing: 'Do they know it's Christmas?' by Band Aid (TMI: I laughed and I cried when I watched this video again. I haven't seen it for 40 years! This was a project to raise funds for starving children in Africa by Bob Geldof and so many amazing musicians had joined him! Bono, Paul Young, Boy George, George Michael, Simon LeBon, Phil Collins on the drums and so many more!)

'… It's Christmas time, and there's no need to be afraid At Christmas time, we let in light and banish shade And in our world of plenty We can spread a smile of joy Throw your arms around the world At Christmas time

… But say a prayer and pray for the other ones At Christmas time, it's hard but while you're having fun There's a world outside your window And it's a world of dread and fear Where a kiss of love can kill you And there's death in every tear And the Christmas bells that ring there are the clanging chimes of doom Well tonight we're reaching out and touching you'

From the Beginning 🔱 Underwater Love 🔱 Latest

Current Chapter: starts ▶️ here Last Chapter: 'Here comes the Sun' from the beginning ▶️ here

📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 23-29

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powderpinkandsweeet · 3 months ago

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Ellie x Reader

~6k words, 60s au, blue collar Ellie x fem waitress reader. Some fluff, some hurt comfort, eventual smut. Content warnings for stereotypical early 60s sexism, some naivety (not innocent, per say), and internalized homophobia.

The first time you saw her, it was from behind the counter of a roadside diner. They'd just built a highway through the plain so the diner had been busier than usual and Patti was letting you get in a couple extra hours. It was toward the end of service, right around the time that the lumber mill closed up for the night and the workers make their way home. Fall was creeping in so the day had been cold and rainy. The last customer of the night came through the door soaked to the bone. Her work boots squeaked and squished on the linoleum and drops of water fell from the tips of her hair. Her blue coveralls stuck to her frame, and you could tell it was uncomfortable by the way she shifted and pulled at the fabric.

Patti found her first, storming over to scold the customer about dirtying her freshly-mopped floors. Patti called for you to bring towels and you rushed to help. The supply closet only had dish towels, so you piled them high on the counter where Patti had settled the visitor. You returned to your customers but remained close by to eavesdrop on the two. As far as you could tell, she had been on her way home and got a flat tire on her truck. With the rain she couldn't get the tire changed or walk home, so she asked to use the phone to call a ride.

From the rotary phone in the break room, you could hear grumbling and expletives before she hung up the phone and returned to the counter with a frown and arms crossed. Despite her tough exterior, the poor girl was shivering so you set to making her a mug of hot chocolate. You stood parallel to her at the counter, getting a good look at her for the first time. Above her right breast pocket, under the lumber mill logo, was an embroidered name: 'Eleanor.'

"Eleanor?" you asked.

Her brow twitched at the name and she looked up with a frown, “what’d you just say?”

“It says ‘Eleanor’ on your uniform…”

She looked down at the embroidery and laughed bitterly, "only folks that call me that are my old man and my boss. It's Ellie to you."

You looked back at the mug in your hands, "well, you looked cold, so I thought maybe you would like some hot chocolate."

She looked surprised at the act of kindness, but accepted the cup gratefully, cupping it with both hands that had become almost numb from the cold. "Yeah... thanks, sugar."

You smiled shyly and muttered "of course," before scurrying back to the kitchen to wipe the same counter once again.

Only minutes later, you walked out of the to find an empty mug and a handful of change. 'The cocoa was only a quarter,' you think, dropping the spare change into the pocket of your apron with a jingle. They clinked in your pocket like silver bells the rest of your shift.

Ellie would drop by regularly, stopping to sit alone at the counter and sip a beer at the end of the work day. You would make idle small talk when business was slow, learning more about her every day. She was unlike any other girl you had known, indelicate and assertive, but most of all she had a certain magnetism about her that pulled you in. Every shift, when the clock struck six, you would linger by the counter, hoping the bell would chime and you'd see Ellie walking through the door.

This time, Ellie enters with a group of men you assume must be her coworkers. They all wore the same blue canvas overalls, with the same embroidered logo and marked with their names. They smelled like sawdust and sweat, a combination that you usually didn't mind on Ellie, but the group was overpowering your senses. You try to catch Ellie's eye and smile, but she seemed too focused on her work boots to notice.

You briefly panicked as you realized they weren't being seated in your section, and you had half a mind to take the hostess by the shoulders and shake her. Instead, you muster the courage to ask your fellow waitress to trade. Margaret looked confused at first, but an amused grin stretched across her face and she chuckled.

"What? Is there something on my uniform?" you ask and peer down at your dress and pinafore, but she only snorts behind her hand that is unsuccessfully muffling her laughter.

"No, I see what's going on, you don't have to be shy. You just had to tell me that you're looking to bag a lumberjack and I'd have switched in a second."

"What?! No, you've got the wrong idea," you whisper-yell to her. "One of them is just a friend so I wanted to say hi."

"Oh you don't have to lie to me. We both know exactly what you're doing." You did, but her... not quite.

Margaret glanced at the table once more before she leaned in to whisper in your ear "The one in the corner looks real cute, if you ask me." And she heads off to take the order of a table in what had previously been your section.

You sigh, "I didn't ask, actually." You looked at the man she'd pointed out to see him stacking creamer cups into a pyramid. 'I guess he's... creative? But cute I don't think so.' Your eyes wandered back to Ellie. Her pink lips were in a pout and her green eyes downcast as she traced the rim of her beer glass with a finger. She didn't seem to be entirely present, like something was on her mind.

You took a few deep breaths before marching up to the table with your best customer service smile. You introduced yourself and passed out menus, to which Ellie's head snapped up to see you. You offered her a polite smile, but she looked away, pretending to scan the menu.

The other three at the table ordered drinks as Ellie spaced out, looking at nothing in particular on the menu in front of her. "And for you?" broke her from her trance.

"Sorry, what?"

The man in the booth next to Ellie elbowed her in the side and teased, "your drink, buddy."

She realized and punched him in the arm before picking up the menu again. "Uh, I'll just take a beer... please." she ordered without looking you in the eye.

"Alright then, four beers it is. I'll be right back with you." You held onto your smile as you turned around but let it drop when you thought they could no longer see you. 'What the hell was that? She acted like we'd never met before,' you ruminated as you filled the glasses.

You didn't notice Ellie's repeated glances in your direction as you helped other customers, but the man beside him with "Jesse" embroidered on his coveralls certainly did. He leaned over to murmur in Ellie's ear, "the waitress is cute, huh?"

Ellie looked shocked, blushing and making nervous eye contact with Jesse, but she was overshadowed by the mouthiest of the bunch. "Real cute, alright. I oughta make a move on her," the bearded one, John, interjected. He obviously didn’t realize the question wasn’t directed at him.

Beside him, the one stacking creamer cups hummed in agreement. "Betcha can't get her number by the time we get the check."

"Oh just watch me, fucker."

Ellie couldn't wipe the look of disgust off her face, obvious enough to catch attention. "You got something to say, huh dyke?" John taunted.

Ellie sighed, "just that you're dumb as a bag of rocks if you think you can get her number looking and smelling like you do."

His beard was littered with crumbs and he smelled like an armpit. A chick magnet, truly, but his confidence was admirable at the very least. "Well, you can fuck all the way off, how's that?"

Ellie shrugged and raised her palms in mock-surrender, "just givin it to you straight, man. She's outta your league and on the clock. You wouldn't want someone hitting on you while you're at work, do you?"

John barked out a laugh, "boy would I! But I don't think any gal 'cept you that ain’t afraid to go near a bandsaw."

Ellie didn't laugh in return, instead muttering to herself "they wouldn't be afraid if you knew how to put down the guard and use the damn thing."

Jesse nearly spit out his water, to which John forgot what had been said and only laughed at Jesse's misfortune.

When you returned with the group's beers, Ellie looked away as nonchalantly as she could manage. You pulled out your notepad and scribbled down their orders, tucking it into your apron and turning around to give it to the cook, but you heard a "clink" behind you. You look back to see that the bearded man had knocked his fork and knife onto the floor. He met your eyes and let out an insincere "oops."

'Customer service smile' you reminded yourself. You bent down to pick it up, "here sir, I can grab you a clean set. It'll take me just a mo-MENT!" You fell back onto your butt on the linoleum as one of the glasses of beer was tipped over, splashing onto the table, the ground, and you where you had bent to retrieve the silverware.

For the first time that night, you heard Ellie's voice. "Johnathan! What the fuck, man!"

You scrambled to your feet and were confronted by frantic apologies from the bearded man. He had stood up from the booth with a fist full of napkins. From where you stood could see that the glass had tipped from right in front of him. "I'm so so sorry, I swear I'm so clumsy."

Your eyes were lining with tears at the embarrassment and the suspicion that he had done this on purpose. You looked down at your soiled uniform. Your apron had a huge stain spread across it, and you could feel the cold, sticky feeling as it bled through the apron and into your dress. You struggled to form words and stay polite, "I- it's okay, it's fine, I just need to-"

"Here, please, let me help," and napkins were pressed firmly to your breasts. Ellie yelled the man's name again and nearly climbed over the table but was held back by Jesse's grip on her wrist. She looked at you with sad eyes, only gifting you with her attention when you were distressed.

You jumped backward, "no! I don't need any of your help! I- I'm just-please excuse me," and you bolted through the kitchen, into the break room.

You were able to convince Margaret to bring out the group's food, but her shift ended shortly after, so you were stuck with the task of bringing them the check. They pooled in their cash, letting you know that you could keep the change. You wished them a good night, receiving a grunt and half-hearted wave from Ellie, still looking at you with pity. You turned back to close and count the money in the cash drawer, but stumbled forward as you were graced with a sharp slap to the ass.

You kept walking away as fast as you could, just wanting the whole ordeal to be over with. The bell above the door rang with their departure.

"Don't act like you guys didn't want a piece of that."

"Dude..."

"No kidding! A cute little thing like that would look real good on my arm, doncha think?" John was slurring and stumbling, obviously having been overserved by their second waitress.

Ellie chimed in, "it's a wonder you're still single, Johnny Boy."

"Don't call me that," was growled.

"Wouldn't have to if you weren't acting like a child who don't know better." Ellie laughed, "didn't your mama teach you how to treat a lady?"

"Don't go acting like you know my mama, she's a good Christian woman and she wouldn't take kindly to that."

"Obviously not good or Christian enough to teach you right from wrong."

Jesse stepped forward to put a hand on her shoulder, "cool it, Ellie. He's not worth it."

"Not worth it? What the hell is that supposed to mean?" John nearly shouted as the other man attempted to keep him upright.

"John, it doesn't matter. You scared the poor gal in there and that's that" Jesse admonished and led Ellie away. They could hear the incoherent shouts and slurs as they returned to their respective cars. Jesse pulled out of the parking lot with a wave in Ellie's direction, and Ellie sat in her truck for a few moments before resigning herself to wait.

You locked the diner's back door with shivering fingers. It was nearing 10 o'clock at night and the last bus had come at 8:30, so you would be walking home. After only a few steps, though, you heard a car door slam. You flinched and turned around with your bag held in front of you as a makeshift shield, but were met by Ellie leaning against her truck and smoking a cigarette. She offered you a weak, apologetic smile but you could only frown in return. Ellie waved and offered you an almost inaudible "hey."

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" you feigned ignorance, "cause you couldn't look me in the eye less than an hour ago."

She had the common sense to look ashamed, "I just didn't want anyone to get any ideas..."

"Ideas about what? That I'm worthy of your time and attention?"

"You know I didn't mean any harm by it-"

"It still hurt, Ellie, even if you didn't mean it." You felt tears line your eyes and tried to regulate your breathing, "and it hurt that you didn't do anything about your fucking coworker. He spilled beer on me and slapped my ass, but you just stood and watched, and another thing!” But you were cut off, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry, okay?" Ellie burst out, remaining tense. "I just, I like you and I was afraid for them to know that."

"I like you too Ellie. I thought I'd made that clear by now."

She sighed and wiped a hand down her face, "I don't think we're on the same page..." She took in a deep breath, “I like you in the same way a man does a woman. And I think I could come to love you."

You felt your face go hot, and your thoughts were sent into a tailspin. She, a woman, liked you, a woman. It was a concept practically unheard of unless you sought it out or were fear-mongered away from it. It had always seemed to be the natural order of things for a woman to lose her last name and independence to become a Mr's Mrs. It gave you butterflies the idea of taking Ellie's last name. It was so simple, the answer why, but you had pretended not to see it all this time.

"I think I like you too Ellie, and not just in the friend way..." you shyly admitted. "I have feelings for you that I don't know how to explain."

Ellie chuckled, "you don't need to understand or explain. All I know is I feel a pull to you not like anyone I've met."

Ellie offered to drive you home since it was cold and window out and "there's shady characters out this time of night." She must have meant her coworker. You almost wished the drive could have lasted longer, but you and Ellie had to part ways. Ellie stood behind you as you unlocked the door, claiming she wanted to make sure you got inside safe before she left. Once it'd popped open, you stood in the entryway and stared, unsure of how to end the night. "Well... goodnight, Ellie. I'll see you at the diner again soon, yeah?"

Ellie nodded, and murmured out, "for sure, yeah. Have a good night..."

You smiled warmly and moved to close the door, but you were stopped by a foot in your doorway that nearly made you scream.

"Wait!" Ellie called, and you pulled the door back just enough to see her. She gulped, "Do you have plans this Saturday?"

"Um, I'm working in the morning but I'm free after three o'clock."

"Do you want to go dancing with me? On Saturday? At 7?"

You were excited but apprehensive, "Ellie... I would love to but where are we supposed to go dancing with each other?" Simply the act of dancing cheek-to-cheek with each other could feel like a risk, but Ellie was quick to quell your worries.

"It's called Tootsie's. It's out on the edge of town so you've probably never heard of it, but you'll love it, promise. I can pick you up?"

You were still apprehensive but agreed. The chance to see Ellie again was worth the anxiety. "Alright, you promised," you tried to say firmly, but couldn't help the smile on your face. You wished Ellie goodnight and made to close the door once again-

"Wait! One more thing"

You opened it again, "yes? Everything alright?" She was silent for a moment. "...Ellie?"

"Can I kiss you?"

You froze in disbelief. You took a tentative step forward, glancing between her lips and her eyes. "Please..."

She smiled and reached out to cup your cheek, and leaned in to give you a gentle peck on the lips. Smiling brighter than she had all night, she wished you goodbye with a wave, "see you Saturday, sugar."

You stood in the doorway and watched as Ellie crossed your yard and climbed into her truck. She drove away into the night, and you snapped out of the trance she had put you in. You shut the door behind you and leaned against it. Your lips still tingled where Ellie had kissed you, and you brought your fingertips to them to brush against your lip. Three days until Saturday, and you would count down the minutes.

You didn't expect Ellie to be the kind of girl to show up early, but you heard a knock on the door at 6:47. You had been running back and forth from bedroom to bathroom to obsess over your hair, face, and outfit. She had only seen you in your diner uniform, and you had only seen her in coveralls. You fiddled with the ends of your hair anxiously as you stepped up to the door and looked out the peep-hole. It was Ellie, hands tucked in pockets and rocking back and forth on her heels.

You took a deep breath, unlocked the door, and practically ripped it open to greet her.

"Hey! It's about... time." Ellie found herself lost in thought as she looked you up and down with an unreadable expression.

You shifted nervously on your feet, "does it look alright?"

Ellie cleared her throat to regain her ability to form words, "no, I mean- yes, I mean-- it looks more than alright, you look so pretty."

You look down at your dress and lean over the full skirt to peer down at your freshly polished shoes, "you really think so?"

"Of course. I meant what I said and I wouldn't lie to you about that." Ellie tucked a stray lock of hair behind your ear, "don't get me wrong, you look adorable in your little skirt and apron covered in food and beer. This though, you look... wow."

You laughed, "you don't clean up too bad either, El." She blushed at the compliment and turned to look away shyly. She smelled of sawdust and fresh spring air. Instead of her dirty old coveralls, Ellie wore a pair of blue Levis 501s with the ankles cuffed and a white t-shirt tucked into the waist. Her black leather lace-up boots thumped heavily against the planks of your patio, perfectly matching the black leather belt that accentuated her waist. On her shoulders rested a denim jacket with a sherpa lining, and she stood with her hands tucked in its pockets. She looked down at herself, "you really think so?"

You shook your head and laughed, "I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it."

You thought you had seen all of Jackson with how long you'd been there, but Ellie had taken you somewhere wholly unfamiliar. Tootsie's didn't look inviting from the outside, what with its location on the outside of town, its blacked out windows, or the empty storefronts on either side. There was no sign out front, just lettering on the door "Tootsie's--No trespassing, no solicitors, no loitering, members only."

"Members?" you looked at Ellie curiously.

"Just folks like us," Ellie responded with a half-smile. Ellie knocked heavily on the door, and after almost a full minute it opened to a tall, intimidating figure.

"Hiya, Barb! How ya been?" Ellie greeted and leaned "casually" against the door frame.

Barb didn't seem up for small talk. "You still haven't paid your tab from two weeks ago."

"Oh," Ellie looked to the side and itched the back of her neck, "about that, my timecard got processed late?"

"Is that an answer or a question?" Barb grumbled and leaned in.

Ellie flinched, "answer! It's an answer. 'Sides I got the money right here so it's no big deal. Here..." and Ellie dug through her pockets to pull out a few crumpled bills and deposited them into Barb's waiting hand. She counted the bills, looked up at Ellie briefly, and let you pass with a nod. You went in first, and didn't catch what Barb whispered to Ellie on her way in, but you did notice the blush on her face.

Inside the bar, it was dimly lit with a haze of cigarette smoke. Your shoes stuck to the floorboards that had long been saturated with beer. The smell of booze and ash hung in the air. Had it not been for the clientele, you would have assumed it was just another dive bar.

Across the room, pairs of women and pairs of men danced cheek-to-cheek to the crooning of the jukebox. Lyrics of love and devotion filled the room, dancers switching the song's pronouns to express the truth of their love. The booths held couples with hands on thighs and around shoulders, public displays of affection that you hadn’t seen anywhere else. Your heart softened. You almost had to hold back a coo at how intimate the scene was. Lovers held each other close; a closeness that couldn't be shared outside closed doors. You quickly came to the conclusion that this was love of a greater depth than you had ever seen or felt before. There was no power struggle or prescribed gender role. Simply two people looking into one another's hearts and feeling like they've found home. 'Where have they been all my life?' you pondered, 'why did it take me so long to find you?'

You were pulled from your reverie by a grip on your wrist. Ellie had taken you by the hand and gestured toward the jukebox, "will you dance with me?"

You stumbled behind her with a giggle, "I'd love to." Ellie dug through her pockets for a nickel, and deposited it into the machine to queue up her song. She contemplates her song choice before keying in her selection. Satisfied, she pulled you to the dance floor to sway with the other lovers until her song played. Ellie pulled you forward by the hips, guiding one of your hands to her shoulder while she held the other in her own. "I'll lead, okay? Just follow me."

She gave you an excited grin as the song ended. The drums and brass kicked in, and you returned her smile. “I've got sunshiiine, on a clouudy dayyy."

"You're so cheesy, you know that?" you say to her with your forehead pressed against hers.

You feel her breathy laugh hit your lips, "but it's working, right? You haven't left yet."

One of her legs remained between your own, guiding the movements of your feet and hips along with hers. Her touch warmed you through. The callouses on her hands reflected years of hard labor, and pale lines on forearms and cheekbones told stories of fights lost and won. You committed them to memory, determined to cherish this moment as Ellie held you and crooned over the Temptations that you were "my girl, my girl, my girl. Talkin' 'bout my giiirl." The lovers around you faded into the background. As far as you were concerned, it was just you and Ellie.

You couldn't stop looking between her eyes and her lips. Ellie smirked as the song came to an end, "why don't you believe she's all my girl?" The smile remained on her face as she took your chin between her index finger and thumb before meeting your lips with her own. She kissed you tenderly and passionately. You hummed into the kiss, and Ellie mirrored your enthusiasm with a swipe of her tongue to your bottom lip. You froze in surprise at her forwardness, to which she nipped at your bottom lip and slips her tongue against yours. Her lips and tongue were so soft as they worked desperately to taste you and feel you tremble under her hands.

Your hand gripped the front of Ellie's shirt as you began to run out of breath, and you both reluctantly pulled back to pant and stare into each other's love-drunk eyes. Her eyes met yours with an unspoken question and a bite to her bottom lip. Ellie's hands gripped your hips to pull them ever closer, hoping you understood her intentions. You blushed in realization but rewarded her with a nod.

Ellie pulled you past the bouncer with urgency, and you swear you heard a deep chuckle from Barb on the wait. Shaking hands fiddled with the keys to her pickup, dropping them once on the ground before successfully unlocking the door and lifting you into the cab with surprising strength.

Ellie climbed in after you with an order of "in the back."

Your skirt and petticoat flipped up over your behind as you crawled between the seats, flashing Ellie your thin panties. For a moment she swore she could see a wet patch at your center. You scooted back on the narrow bench, spreading your legs so Ellie could rest on her knees between them. She wasted no time, leaning down to kiss you messily. Ellie sucked on your tongue, causing you to whimper and pull back with a gasp.

Ellie huskily whispered in your ear, "I've wanted to touch you like this the second I saw you, prancing around in your cute little skirt and apron." You were practically breathless as she littered kisses and sucks down your neck and to your collarbones. You would get mad at her later for the multitude of bruises, but you didn't have half a mind to care.

Warm, rough hands slid up your shoulders and down your sternum to take the low neckline of your dress into her grip. She pulled the material to rest below your breast, whispering out a low "fuck..." Ellie took your breasts into her palms, squeezing them while circling your nipples with her thumbs. She admired their shape and softness as she held them in her hands, giving them a squeeze and leaning down to flick a nipple with her tongue. You arched your back into her touch as she took your nipple into her mouth to suck, pinching the other between her finger and thumb.

You moaned out her name as she lavished your breasts with licks, kisses, and the occasional bite. Your sensitivity heightened with every touch, and Ellie could tell from the twitching of your thighs at her hips that you were craving more.

Ellie withdrew, grazing your nipple with the points of her teeth to make you flinch. She sat back and circled each nipple with the pad of her thumbs, the saliva left behind making you shiver as they hardened with the attention and cold. "What do you need, baby?"

You brought the back of your hand to rest against your forehead, flushed and panting. "More... please, Ellie."

Ellie smirked, "more what, honey?"

If you were in your right mind, you would have attempted to articulate that this was all new. The pleasure you felt was more intense and mor intimate than anything you'd felt before, and all you knew is that you wanted Ellie to touch you more. Ellie took mercy on you after a few moments of watching your face twist with embarrassment. She hummed for a moment in thought and shifted to press her knee between your thighs. You gasped and bucked your hips at the sudden stimulation to your clit, and Ellie had found her answer.

"Right there, huh? You want to feel me right here?" she questioned despite already knowing the answer. You shyly nodded and continued to grind your hips against the pressure of Ellie's thigh. "Ah-ah, you gotta tell me out loud or I won't know what you really want," she teased.

You take one of Ellie's hands into yours to draw it toward the hot, wet patch on your panties, "here, I need you right here... Please, Ellie, I can't take it."

More than pleased with your answer, Ellie scooted backwards so she could press her palm to your core. She cupped your pussy through your panties, grinding the heel of her palm against your clit. She stroked her hand across the length of your pussy before slipping her fingers into the hem of your panties. You helped her wriggle them down your legs, and Ellie gripped your knees to spread your legs wide open. For a moment, she just admired your glowing frame beneath her. Your lips glistened with arousal, starting to drip down the curve of your thigh to pool onto the truck's leather seats. "Such a pretty pussy..." Ellie mused, licking her thumb to rubbing slow circles around your clit. She reveled in your sensitivity and the ease with which she could pull whimpers and whines from you. You were so much fun to play with. Your hips followed the movements of her fingers to chase the pleasure. "Feels so good, doesn't it, baby?" Ellie cooed.

You whimpered and nodded once again but squeaked out a "yes!" when Ellie returned your silence with a slap to your clit. But her tender touches returned with greater intensity, switching from slow circles on your clit to swipes left and right with the tips of her fingers. Your thighs trembled and attempted to thrash, but Ellie forced your legs to remain open. "And you're all mine..." Ellie murmured, mostly to herself.

Ellie couldn't wipe the smile from her face as she abused your pussy, but she knew that she could make you squirm harder and squeal louder. She slowed her ministrations on your clit just enough to draw your focus and a whine of her name, "wha- why'd you stop?"

Ellie's gaze was intense, more serious than she had ever looked. "I need to fuck you. I want to feel you squeeze my fingers and drip down my wrist." She leaned down to press kisses up your chest and the side of your neck. Her breath puffed against your ear and nearly made you shiver, "will you let me, honey? I promise if you be my baby I'll make you feel so good."

"I'll be your baby, Ellie. Please make me yours."

She met you with an excited grin before sucking two fingers into her mouth to wet them. She withdrew them with a "pop" and brought them to your core. "You ready?"

You looked between Ellie's eyes and her fingers, "mhm, please, Ellie."

The tips of her fingers circled your hole once, twice, three times before penetrating to the first knuckle and thrusting shallowly. "So warm... you feel so good," Ellie cooed. You had flinched initially, but melted into the haze of pleasure as she thrusted deeper. Ellie paid close attention to your face and voice to guide you to your orgasm, noticing your breaths slow and your brows furrow with her gentle pace.

"You need more, don't you, baby? Want me to fuck you harder?" You nodded with a whimper and a plead, so Ellie curled her fingers and pumped them upward to abuse your g-spot. Your pussy made obscene, wet noises as Ellie jabbed the tips of her fingers against the spot on your walls that made you squeal and arch. "Doing so so good for me, angel, I can feel you squeezing me." You could only respond with groans and guttural noises from deep in your throat. If you could only hear yourself, you would be ashamed at your whoreish behavior.

Your body shook and your jaw slacked as you gasped for air. One of your hands came up to squeeze your breast, while the other gripped Ellie's forearm tightly. She could feel the bite of your nails but couldn't be bothered to care when you were this overwhelmed with pleasure beneath her. The burn in your stomach was a raging inferno at this point, your clit and walls pulsing with heat. Ellie could tell you were nearing the edge by the way your eyes kept rolling and your back arching up and falling backward onto the leather seats. "Ellieee, I- I'm so close, please. Please..."

Her grin only widened, a vibrant flush on her cheeks from excitement and exertion. Her fingers picked up her pace, gripping you by the hip for leverage as she pulled you toward orgasm. She knew just what you needed to throw you over the edge, "rub your clit for me, honey." She guided your hand away from her forearm to the mess between your thighs, "two fingers, do little circles for me, baby. Yeah, just like that." The friction on your clit shot through you like lightning, and you had to withdraw your other hand from your breast to grip your other wrist and quell its trembling. Ellie's fingers curled up just right with a firm jab and a squelch, and your pussy gripped her tightly. You could only let out throaty groans as you peaked, unable to form words or warn Ellie of your orgasm. You cum drooled down between your lips, Ellie's fingers and hand covered in your slick as she guided you through your orgasm. She slowed and withdrew her fingers from your pussy, circling your clit with her thumb once again until the bucking of your hips slowed and she felt your muscles tense at the stimulation.

Ellie pulled back to revel in her job well done. Your hazy eyes refocused with a peck to the tip of your nose. You smiled tiredly at one another, and you couldn't hold back your thoughts, "I've never felt like this for someone..."

Ellie looked confused for a moment and tilted her head, "huh? Like you've never come before?"

You laughed and looked away shyly, "no, not that. I mean, you did make me feel better than anyone has but I meant like... I have strong feelings for you."

Ellie smiled like a kid on Christmas and dropped down to smother you in a hug, "you'll just have to be my girl, then, won't you?"

You mirrored her smile and laugh at her enthusiasm, "I would want nothing more."

Very loosely inspired by the setting (not characters, Ellie isn’t really butch to me) of Stone Butch Blues by Leslie Feinberg (an essential read and one of my favorite people). Be kind to each other, we’re just making our dolls kiss. I see a lot of discourse over characterizations of the subject or reader and how it should be done. We like our characters and we envision how they would or wouldn’t act, but unless you’re writing the story then it probably won’t fit your expectations.

#ellie x reader #wlw smut #ellie tlou #tlou 2 #ellie williams #wlw #ellie x fem reader

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jmdbjk · 4 months ago

Text

Thinking too hard.

I was having a delusional episode while talking to my bestie:

Here's my wild concept for the BTS comeback MV: a Star Wars-like spoof where they are the rebel underdogs fighting the evil empire.

The song would need to have an overall "together we will overcome and save the world" theme. Or it could be a "fuck you evil bitches time to die". Either/or.

They are in those X-wing fighters and those huge land walker thingys.

Jimin can have smeraldo flower decals on his X-wing and JK can have tattoo graffiti looking decals on his. Of course both of their light sabers would be purple. Duh, right? It gets hot in those fighter space craft, they'd be shirtless of course.

Tae can be riding one of those two-legged horse/kangaroo looking things, wind blowing in his hair. Hey, I just googled what they are called... Tauntauns... tan tans? The universe is universing here. Stick with me, I might be on to something.

Yoongi can be operating one of those land stompers. Googled what those are called (can you tell I'm not a hardcore Star Wars fan? But I did see most of the theatrical movies, except maybe one... anyway) All Terrain Armored Transport or AT-AT Walker because at one point in Yoongi's life, he worked as a motorbike delivery person. Universe, stop it! While delivering more troops and weapons to the front lines, Yoongi can crush people who look like k-media and fake media... or MHJ. For sure kpoppies. Crush 'em all, Yoongi.

I don't want to say it but its a no-brainer: Namjoon is a wise and philosophical ancient being who can slice an enemy in half using only his words. May the force be with you. Slash.

That leaves Hobi. He's the commander of course. Perfectly fitting uniform (designed by LV of course) manning the war room.

Jin, since he's the oldest and the most hardcore gamer, would volunteer to be the one to fly into the heart of the evil empire's ship/vessel/planet/egg/brain/bowels/whatever and blow it to bits before he zooms out safely, escaping obliteration. I guess that would also lend itself to having a slight astronaut touch to it wouldn't it? Kinda also ties in with military stuff.

Cue the close up of Jin winking to the camera and blowing a WWH kiss.

At the end of the MV the evil in the world is destroyed and everyone cheers. The whales in the ocean rejoice.

A bit violent but in a sci-fi fantasy way. Hybe can spend a lot of money on special effects and make it very sparkly and over the top cinematic.

At least you can’t say I don’t have a sense of humor along with this wild imagination.

Time to exit the emo angst school boi era and enter the mature hunk oppa hero era guys. Universe! Get on it!

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c0la-queen · 3 months ago

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Harrowing Night | Viktor x Reader

Okay, I know I promised a drabble, but I've spent hours elbow-deep in the muck of League of Legends lore trying to figure shit out that I completely lost the motivation to write something complicated. However, I still have Thoughts that I want to share with you all, so I will post them in the form of Cola's Ramblings.

So, the only Halloween equivalent event I could find was something called Harrowing, but I noticed halfway through my research that this event was actually part of the old lore and is no longer canon. However, I am Not A League Player so I'm simply choosing to Ignore This.

From what I could find, it seems like Harrowing was a Ionian event that was spread to Piltover and Zaun through the Ionian refugees. (Again, I don't know how accurate that is, don't get mad at me if you actually know the lore please)

In my opinion, even though this holiday started out as a day of fear and caution, Piltover - as Piltovans are wont to do - takes this concept and decides to polish it until it shines as golden as the city itself. Instead of hiding away in their homes in fear of the dark, they decided to keep the spirits away by having fun. So, every October 31st, the throw a festival in the city plaza. There's lanterns, food and hot drinks, games and activities, music, and, of course, costumes! And they call this new version of the holiday Harrowing Night.

Reader absolutely loves Harrowing Night. She and Jayce, as childhood best friends, spent every Harrowing Night together. When they were young, they'd slip away from their parents' grasps and run off hand-in-hand to scope out what that year's festival had.

This excitement didn't fade away as they got older.

So, when October came around this year, your excitement steadily grew. You spent all month discussing costume ideas, trying to settle on the perfect one.

Then, the fated night arrived. As soon as you were done helping the boys out at the lab, you raced home to your apartment to get ready. As the sun sank below the city line and the sky turned from red-orange to inky indigo, you couldn't help but pace nervously. Jayce was 30 minutes late to pick you up. Where was he? Was he okay?

When you heard a knock on your door, that dwindling excitement built back up. You raced to the door as fast as you could, throwing it open and starting to berate Jayce for being so tardy -

...when you noticed that it wasn't Jayce. At all. It was Viktor, wearing comfy clothes and looking like he had just rushed over to your apartment last minute. (Had you ever seen Viktor in anything other than his Academy uniform?)

Viktor was having a hard time forming a coherent sentence. He had come over to your apartment in order to bounce some ideas for HexTech off you - something he'd started doing at your daily lunches together, something that he found helped him process his thoughts better. He would say this, but how could he say anything when you were standing there, looking even more beautiful than you already were? The costume you had chosen this year was an angel costume. You were wearing a knee length dress with your arms completely exposed - far too exposed for how cold it was outside at this hour - feathered wings with gold embellishments, and a matching halo headband. You'd done your makeup, something you didn't do often, and the glittery golden eye shadow really made your eyes pop. For the first time in Viktor's life, he was speechless. You were... ethereal.

He was broken out of his stupor when he heard that you were waiting on Jayce. Jayce? Ignoring the little pang of jealousy he felt (he hated it. You and Jayce had grown up together, and he was the newest addition to your lives. Of course you preferred Jayce over him.), Viktor was perplexed. You're waiting on Jayce? He asked. Jayce and Mel left for the festival an hour ago.

He hated how heartbroken you looked as that information set in. Viktor quickly realized what was happening. Jayce had ghosted you and taken Mel to the Harrowing Night festival without telling you. A hot flash of anger burned through Viktor.

In Zaun, Harrowing Night wasn't exactly celebrated. Plenty of Zaunites believed in it, but there was no grandeur to it. It was a quiet night where families placed jack-o-laterns and other wards in their windows and doorsteps in order to protect their homes from the spirits wandering about.

But Viktor knew that this night was important to you. You'd been rambling about it to him all week, telling him stories of the shenanigans you and Jayce would always get up to during the festivals throughout the years. You always had that sparkle in your eyes that he so adored.

The fact that Jayce, your best friend, did this to you? It infuriated Viktor. He thought that Jayce knew you best - a thought that had made Viktor bitter several times before - but he was quickly realizing that either Jayce didn't know anything about you or he just didn't care.

You didn't deserve that. You didn't deserve to be sitting in your apartment on your favorite night of the year, trying to hold back tears to keep yourself from messing up your makeup.

Viktor wanted to fix it. He was an inventor at heart. He took things that were broken or damaged and rewired them, restored them, and made sure they worked again. He was going to make sure he succeeded with you, too.

So, Viktor tells you that he'll take you to the festival instead. He may not be as passionate about Harrowing Night as you are, but he's passionate about you. Er... about your happiness. If that means biting his tongue and going to an overrated Piltie festival with you? Dammit, that's what he was going to do.

He even put on the stupid devil horn headband that you had bought for Jayce, that way you two were in matching costumes.

Viktor had to admit... the festival was pretty neat. While the music was a little too loud, he enjoyed the hot spiced cider that he had been sipping on while walking around the plaza. There were people in costumes everywhere. Little kids, parents, couples, and friends. The air smelled like cinnamon and apples.

But most of all, Viktor enjoyed your excitement. It was like he was getting a glimpse of your younger self, coming back out of hiding to partake in the nostalgia and joy. The warm lights of the lanterns made your skin practically glow and reflected in your eyes. You'd gotten several compliments on your costume, compliments you gave back with fervor to the other costumes you saw. It didn't bother Viktor as much as he expected it to - you'd worked hard on your costume, you deserved the recognition. Besides, how could he complain when you were hugging his arm as you two walked, your warm chest pressed to his forearm as you nibbled on the funnel cake fries you'd picked up.

Yes, you enjoyed yourself thoroughly. Until about an hour in, when you'd turned a corner and spotted a little crowd gathered around a particular booth. At the center of the crowd, soaking in the attention, were Jayce and Mel. They were wearing matching costumes - your matching costumes. Jayce had taken the concept you'd come up with for you and him and decided to use it with Mel. Even more heartbreaking, Mel's costume was much more breathtaking than yours. Her wings were bigger, her dress was more beautiful, and her golden makeup and jewelry shined brighter than yours. She looked like a goddess.

Viktor wanted nothing more than to beat Jayce over the head with his cane. He knew Jayce could be a bit thick sometimes, but this crossed the line into self-centered asshole territory. Unfortunately, he had to ignore that murderous rage in order to focus on you fully. With a "Let's go" whispered lowly in your ear, he nudged you away from the crowd and away from the festival. He had an inkling that you wouldn't be able to enjoy the festival anymore tonight, and his leg was starting to ache. It was time to go home.

Still... he couldn't stand how dejected you looked as you sat on your couch, unstrapping your wings. The night was still young and he had nothing else to do that weekend, so he - quite demandingly - ushered you off to your bedroom to get comfortable. In the meantime, he set up the living room with blankets and a few snacks and drinks from your kitchen. He even dimmed the lights and lit an autumn scented candle he found on your coffee table.

That's when you returned, dressed in warm, comfortable pajamas. Hair loose, makeup wiped off. The setup made you smile, looking at Viktor with a grateful expression. He could see the faint redness to your eyes. His job wasn't quite done.

You two spend the rest of the night tangled together on your couch, draped in blankets, watching different seasonal movies. You rested your head against Viktor's chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, and you smiled. Maybe this Harrowing Night wasn't so bad.

As the credits of the third movie you watched rolled, Viktor noticed you'd fallen silent. He glanced down, blinking in surprise when he realized that you'd fallen asleep against him. As your chest rose and fell with your steady breathing, Viktor smiled. Maybe he could learn to love Harrowing Night.

#arcane #viktor arcane #viktor x reader #arcane x reader #cola's ramblings

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musetheapothecary · 6 months ago

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you're familiar (like my mirror years ago)

iwaizumi hajime x fem!reader (sfw)

The forest is sun-bleached and hazy, awash in a haze of white-gold that makes it difficult to discern the gnarled roots whose knuckles poke through the dry earth. It's hot out, but bearable—spring hot, not summer hot. It feels dusty and stiff.

Her lips are cracked like the dirt beneath her worn sneakers, a red-laced relic from her middle school volleyball days. She thinks she can see green up ahead and she squints, eager for something plush beneath her blistered feet. Perhaps Iwa-chan would let them rest there for a moment. She can see the angry red blooming across Oikawa's nose and cheeks, creeping down the column of his proud throat. It looked remarkably bear without a collar wrapped around it. Seeing Oikawa out of uniform was akin to seeing a pig in the ocean—it happened, occasionally, most often in strange and foreign places, but it never quite looked natural.

By contrast, Iwaizumi looked more like himself than ever in his torn up wife-beater. It gaped around his shoulders and little holes had been moth bitten across his midriff, displaying more of his Miyagi tan than she was accustomed to seeing. She'd been trying her best not to stare at him, focusing rather on the Makki's strawberry-blond head. He'd begun to grow out his bangs, finally. He'd let Mattsun cut them off with scissors in their middle school bathroom and had kept them obnoxiously short for years since. Somewhere overhead a pair of crows has begun to circle, their cawing echoes through the seemingly empty forest.

They were off to visit a shrine, to secure the third-years their “certain victory” in the upcoming volleyball season, and they'd made the unanimous and utterly stupid decision to not take the actual (straight, clean, clear, and generously sprinkled with vending machines) path towards it, but rather to forge their own through the foliage.

Idiots. The lot of them.

(She'd kill for a Pocari Sweat.)

“How much further?”

Oikawa holds up a finger, and shuffles about the map in his other hand. “About 3 kilometres, if my readings are correct.”

She groans, stumbling over another root. She doesn't expect the hand on her upper arm, hot and calloused and wide enough to encase all of her cotton-draped limb and then some.

“Getting' tired there stripes?”

Iwa's grin is savage, wild as the knotted vines beneath their feet and sharper than the crows' claws. It suits him perfectly.

Against her will her eyes stray down to that golden skin, bared to the dappled sun.

The hand on her arm tightens, fingers twitching against her until she can feel her own pulse.

He really is beautiful.

Her face tinges red, gaze flitting back and forth between his (big, strong, perfect—ok, get it together girl) hand, and his gunshot gaze. So, it turns out spending the bulk of the summer coaching herself through the self-destruction of her crush did not, in fact, get rid of said crush.

Bummer.

He'd asked her a question, hadn't he?

Iwa's brow ticks up, his smile takes on a slightly condescending lilt, with just the right amount of fang. He doesn't bully her half as much as Oikawa, but they'd been friends since diapers so he's not shy about roughing her up a little every now and then. She refuses to admit she enjoys it.

There'd been a brief period in middle school where things had gotten…complicated. Her friends had suddenly realised she was a girl and she had suddenly realised they were icky-yucky boys, and then all of a sudden roughhousing and play wrestling and casual insults trickled to a stop.

They picked up pretty quickly after the legendary tantrum she through outside the gymnasium though, so she can't really hold it against them.

(She still can't look their middle school coach in the eye, she'd brought out the waterworks and everything back then. How humiliating.)

“Yes,” she says at last, with what she believes to be a perfectly fair amount of attitude. “And my feet hurt.”

“Poor princess,” he mocks, giving her arm one last nudge before moving back to his spot beside Oikawa.

She ignores the twisting in her gut and the phantom sensation of warm fingers against her skin. And Makki and Mattsun's obnoxious kiss-y noises.

Well, she mostly ignores it.

If she sends a sharp kick to each of their ankles, that's her business.

“What will you be wishing for, Chibi-chan?” Oikawa calls back, his attention mostly stolen by the spiderweb that seems to have glued itself to his sleeve.

“Our assured victory, obviously,” Makki answers for her, looping a sweat-slick arm around her sweat-slick neck. Both of them shudder at the feeling, but he doesn't let go.

Mattsun, clearly feeling left out, reaches over to mess up her hair.

“Actually, I was going to wish for my assured victory, you self-absorbed piece of shit.”

She attempts to shove both boys off of her, but they've shot up like weeds over the past few years and whatever diet their coach has them on is working overtime. Neither boy budges, not even an inch.

“Victory in what, I wonder, dear chibi-chan.”

Oh, she doesn't like that. She doesn't like that at all. That mean glint in his eyes is only attr

active on Iwaizumi, on Oikawa it raises her blood pressure in a whole different way.

“Assured victory in love, perhaps?” Mattsun teases, tugging once more on her hair before distancing himself.

He trips over a tree root on his way back.

Instant karma. Nice.

Iwa's looking at her. And not just a regular look. Not even one of his teasing looks. He's Looking, with a capital 'L'. She hopes the scarlet stain across her cheeks can be attributed to the weather, but if the predatory tilt of his head is anything to go by It Is Not.

“Shut up,” she says, very maturely, and stomps forward to walk at the front.

Someone whistles playfully as she passes, which doesn't help the blush.

(That is exactly what she's going to wish for, which makes it all the more embarrassing. She just needs a little courage. A little push. She promised herself she'd confess this year, but man is she terrified of what will come from it—or not come from it, as the case may be. Still, they've been dancing around each other for years and she knows there's something there. She just doesn't know if he wants it.

If he wants her.)

There's heat at her shoulder and breath on her cheek, knuckles dragging against her own where they swing at her side. “You don't need a shrine for that.”

She takes a peek at him, knocks their hands together a little harder. He laughs and slips his palm into hers. It's clammy and honestly a little gross, but in that moment it's the best thing she's ever felt.

“Promise?” She whispers, just for him.

“Promise.” Iwa squeezes her hand. Sun dapples over his forehead, and his smile is spring-soft. The tough shell around him gapes open, if only for a moment. “I'll be waiting, when you're ready.”

She's young, she's in love, and everything is perfect.

(If you ignore the influx of kissy noises from behind them, and Oikawa's shrill whines.)

#iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi x reader #hq iwaizumi #iwaizumi fluff #haikyuu!!#haikyu x reader #hq x reader #mentioned:#oikawa tooru #hanamaki takahiro #matsukawa x reader #seijoh 4 #seijoh 4 x reader

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zalrb · 2 months ago

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PLL 1x01 Review (Per Anon Request)

"I'm loving her new video." "Maybe a little too much, huh?" Allison, I already want to kill you.

"I've looked everywhere for her. I think I heard her scream" she says calmly.

I love that the newspaper headline is "Still Missing" and not something like "The Search Continues" "Still Looking for Answers"

PIPER.

They do look like they'd be mother and daughter.

Which network is this show?

"They're calling it the anniversary of Allison's disappearance like it's a party or something" I mean, does it sound like that?

Arya looks like her name should be Effy.

They're speaking like it's been a few months and not a year.

Why do they ALWAYS play lacrosse?

"Dad, I'm still keeping your secret, OK?" she says at normal volume in the middle of the house.

"Would now be 16" L O L. These "missing" signs are KILLING me.

"And I write too" of course she fucking writes.

"You're smart" how do you know? You said 3 things to this underage girl.

This bathroom makeout is impersonal and choreographed and it annoys me because if you two are so hot for each other that you have to make out in a public restroom, then it's this hot and heavy, grope-y type thing, it's not this teehee sit on the sink while we smile at each other. Public restrooms are disgusting.

It's also weird that they chose to cut to the theme song after this flat bathroom makeout and not after Allison goes missing??

Wait, who is this blonde girl? I thought this was a flashback. Guys, straight up, I'm not going to be able to tell these two apart that well

"Remember what she said that night about secrets?" YOU ARE ACTING LIKE IT'S BEEN A FEW MONTHS.

Spencer's blazer is pissing me off.

Maybe your dad cheated on your mom as karma for you being a bitch to Mona.

Her dad couldn't even be an adult about his affair? Get a room.

None of these people are talking like they're actual people.

"They're not so close anymore either." "So they're friendly but not friends" oh my lord, I miss season 1 Caroline.

"Holy crap" *as he looks directly at Aria in front of the ENTIRE class* NO ONE IS REACTING LIKE PEOPLE WOULD.

BIANCA.

Girl, you're just standing there holding this basket.

LMAO. "Would you kill me if I smoke a little weed? Would you like to join me?" Did any of these writers smoke weed?

Aww, Torey.

She is a teenager, Ren.

YOU ARE IN THE SCHOOL. All of these characters are idiots.

"You feel like this is right for us too" you two said TWO THINGS to each other and made out in a washroom???

Oh are you going to massage her shoulder.

Yes.

Piper, go find Leo. Sure, he'll leave you to be a a head angel but he would never cheat.

I never understood the Queen Bee Mean Girl in a group mostly because in my experience, the GROUP of girls are mean and there may be a leader but it's not one girl terrorizing her entire group of friends and everyone just taking it because

it's usually the group terrorizing that one friend in the group, idk.

And since Allison is so herself, why would any of you tell her any of your secrets anyway?

So weird, they're acting like it's been a few months since the disappearance not a year and yet they act like they don't know each other at all.

Wouldn't it be enough to send a uniform for shoplifting?

"In Rosewood, you don't have room to make a mistake" bro, I need to SEE this. Why is FNL and, like, True Blood the only shows I can remember who actually do what a small town feels like well?

When do they do that dramatic walk in the hallway and act like it's a runway?

Hanna eating ice cream and watching the news of her friend's death is actually hilariously morbid.

And you're just going to watch your mother makeout with the cop?

And your mother is just going to look at you as she goes upstairs to have sex with him? Would you not send your daughter away?

The school isn't having an assembly about this death or anything?

"For Alison or for being a jerk?" I mean, he is a grown ass man, Aria.

This dramatic turn and kiss doesn't make sense right now. None of this is earned.

Does the mother care that her child is "dead"? "Aria, thanks for coming!" It's a funeral not a housewarming.

Maya is the only one who is trying to look sad.

L M A O, Aria's mom couldn't even go with her daughter to the funeral?? Jesus christ, teen shows, give them parents or don't.

These forever 21 funeral dresses are SENDING me.

Detective, they are MINORS, you will have to speak to their parents.

The "Na na na na na na na" singing in the background is so unserious.

"and I know everything, A" in UNISON??? L O L this is so bad.

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mercurygray · 10 months ago

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Apologies Owing

Well, they're finally here - the pilots, that is. The base's WACs have some opinions they'd like to share.

A follow up to this piece - and an announcement! I'll be trying to post all of Cord's drabbles on AO3 at Pavilioned In the Fields.

The talk over dinner was about nothing but the officers.

There was no consensus yet, it seemed, over who was the handsomest. Netta was stumping for Brady, the one who'd ridden his fort straight into a rut in the middle of the airfield and had walked away without a scratch, but Anita and Mary Dacre both wanted to speak of no one but DeMarco - or rather, the dog he'd brought with him, who had kindly consented to pets and treats and much crooning while his owner stood by and beamed at himself for the genius idea of getting the husky to find his Friday night dates for him. (Mae, too, seemed taken by the idea of the dog, though she was a little too world-wise to let the pup's gorgeous blue eyes win her over to his owner.)

"I liked the one that blew us a kiss," Nina said, almost loyally, still mooning into her soup about it nearly three hours later, elbow firmly planted on the table while she started wistfully into space. "What'd you say his name was, Phoebe?"

"Biddick," Phoebe said, wisely taking the middle road and saying nothing about anything apart from name, rank and serial number, reaching around Nina's elbow for the salt. "Curtis Biddick. Flies with Richard Snyder."

"The one who looks like Leslie Howard?" Becky looked like that was more her speed. "Now there's a man I'd let do a few close maneuvers."

"Curtis Biddick," Nina smiled dreamily, staring off into space obviously having heard nothing Becky had said. "It was so romantic."

"You gotta watch out for boys like that, Nina, they're usually more trouble than they're worth," Mae said, locking eyes with Phoebe across the table and exchanging abbreviated smiles.

"You all can have fun with the squaddies, but I feel like aiming a little higher," Ethel said with a cutthroat grin, inspecting the arch of her brow in the convex of her soup spoon. "That blonde who drove in with Major Egan looks like he really could be in pictures."

"Cleven," Phoebe supplied, before anyone could ask. "Major Gale Cleven. He's Egan's best friend, apparently. He came up to tower, didn't he, Cord? With Major Egan and Demarco?"

"He did," Cord said, non-committal while she wiped some sauce off the corner of her mouth and considered whether she wanted to try chasing down the last of her peas. "Seemed nice enough."

"Hmmm." Ethel looked unimpressed, and perhaps a little put out that Cord, of all people, had gotten an eye in to the main chance that she clearly couldn't appreciate properly. "Nice enough to have a girl at home?"

But no one ventured an answer for her - the half of the table that was facing the doorway all clammed up at same time as the man himself approached the table, uniform immaculate and blond hair swept just so over his very handsome face. The table stood up as one, Nina accidentally flinging her spoon into her bowl with a clatter.

"Ladies. Was wondering if I might have a word alone with Lieutenant Callaway." His voice was all gravitas and gravel, and Ethel looked like she'd die of envy the way she was glaring across the table at her lieutenant.

Mae's eyes, on the other hand, flashed with delight, and Cord looked around the table to see that nearly everyone else was smiling the way girls smiled when they thought you had something to keep a secret about. She felt hot with betrayal. Now just what do you all think - "I think we're all finished, Major, we can leave," Mae offered, gesturing to the rest of the table to get going. "We'll catch you up, Cord." Mae promised, beaming back at her friend, following the rest of the group out the door and back to barracks.

Cord took a breath and studied her shoes for a moment, hoping that none of that heat had made it to her face, and Cleven hadn't seen any of their hinting smiles - or heard what Ethel had just said. She waited until the crowd cleared the door to speak. "Sir?"

"Seems I owe you an apology, Lieutenant."

Whatever she'd been expecting him to say ...wasn't that. "…What for, sir?"

Cleven's gaze was patient, though it looked like that patience was being tested a little at the moment. "Whatever John's done here for the last month."

It took Cord more than a moment to realize he was talking about Bucky Egan. She'd plumb forgotten his first name was John, if she'd ever known it at all. He introduced himself to everyone as Bucky. "…that's very kind of you, Major Cleven, but I'm not sure that's your apology to make, sir."

"Well, a fellow can try." He smiled - a brief thing - and Cord realized why Ethel thought he'd do well in movies. Underneath those baby blue eyes ran some very, very still waters. Well, they'd have to be, to have Egan for a friend. "He - he means well, usually. He's just not…real good at thinking things through sometimes."

You can say that again. "That's…not a quality one looks for in an executive officer, if you don't mind me saying, sir."

Cleven chuckled - a sound Cord was getting the impression most people didn't hear very often. "No, it most certainly is not. But he has others - a damn fine flyer, a good man to have with you in a fight, and a - a good friend."

The quiet fortitude was growing on her - a strong contrast to Egan's boisterous take-all-comers antics. And he'd come here, when he didn't have to, when nothing said he even needed to, to apologize, on the sole basis of one meeting this morning where she'd stood her ground and been short with his friend. He noticed things, Major Cleven did - and that counted for something. "He must be, to have you making apologies for him on your first day here."

Again, the smallest of smiles. "He'd do the same, if it had been me that had stepped wrong. I'm just trying to…pay the favor forward." He took a breath, and looked at his shoes. "He, ah - he mentioned you were from Ohio."

"Dayton," Cord supplied, wondering when this had turned from an apology into an interview.

"Pretty prime flying country out there at Wright-Patterson," Cleven said quietly, glancing at her with softly curious eyes.

"Yes, sir, it is. I practically grew up there - my dad worked on the base, as an engineer. Worked pretty close with the test pilots."

"Is that how you got into the tower?"

"More or less, sir."

"Heard Brady say you were the calmest voice alive, talking him in today."

The 'for a woman' that had doubtless followed the original comment went unsaid, and Cord measured out her own smile. "Well, there's two types of pilots, sir - those who've had a belly landing, and -"

"-those who will." Cleven finished the old chestnut with a smile. "They teach you a lot about belly landings in Dayton, Lieutenant?"

Cord took a deep breath, remembering the rumbling, skating feeling of the plane underneath her, the nameless terror that the brakes no longer worked and her steering was in God's hands, waiting endlessly while the machine skidded heavily to a halt and she planned her exits, preparing to make a run for it. "A fair bit, sir."

"Hopefully we won't give you any more." He caught her gaze and held it. "Let me know, if he gives you any more trouble? We can't have our controller off her game."

She looked him in the eye and knew, instinctively, that he meant that, and if she said something, he would take her at her word - something not too many men on this base would do. That counted for something, too. "You'll be the first person I tell, Major."

He nodded, glad to be heard and understood, and turned to leave, before thinking of one last thing. "And maybe you'll let your friend know the girl at home is named Marge?" His smile was nearly imperceptible, and Cord almost laughed to see it. So he had heard. That's a very dry sense of humor you have there, sir. "Wouldn't want anyone …getting the wrong idea."

She nodded, happy that there was something here she could do for him. Oh, we're going to get along so well. "Of course, sir." Well, Ethel, serves you right. She could just see the other woman's face when she told her that Cleven was definitely off the market.

The understanding, it seemed, was mutual - Cleven gave a little nod and put his hand in his pocket. "Enjoy your evening, Lieutenant."

"And you, Major."

He went back outside, and Cord's eye followed him through the windows to the group of pilots joking and laughing in the road outside, probably getting ready to go into town. What reason could he have given for stopping in the mess hall? Or maybe he didn't need one. Egan hooked his arm around his friend's shoulders, and Cord caught a glimpse, again, of Cleven's fleeting smile - wider now, laughing with his friends as they set off for the village and the pub. And they're best friends? Well, they do say opposites attract.

Cord tidied her seat and exited the mess, surprised to see Mae was sitting on the bench outside the mess, apparently waiting. She got up as Cord stepped outside, grinning from ear to ear. "A word alone with Lieutenant Callaway, huh? You got something you want to share with the class, Cord?"

"Oh, buzz off, Mae. He just wanted to -" She paused, feeling, suddenly, that the apology was not for public consumption. "To thank me, for helping Brady land."

Mae nodded, a little impressed with the new Major. "The way she's going, I think Netta's gonna thank you too."

You can read more of Cord here on tumblr at her tag.

#i have written a thing #mercurygraypresents #tds cinematic universe #cordelia callaway #masters of the air x oc #masters of the air fanfic #john egan x oc #stop the presses everyone i have written gale cleven

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xmorguekittyx · 1 year ago

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Ever Unlocked

Part 2: Caution to the Wind

Part 1: Grey Skies and Blue Eyes

pairing: Officer!Leon Kennedy x Coroner’s Assistant!Reader

no use of y/n or names

warnings: Leon has some small dirty thoughts about reader. not anything to really worry about this chapter, we’re slowly building up to the darker themes.

as Leon pulled up to her apartment, a shitty, two toned, plain looking building. He let out a sigh, the squeak of the windshield wipers the only sound as her breath was near caught in her throat. "tha-", "wel-", their voices mingled in the warm air, thanks to Leon's Jeeps air conditioning. a soft smile fell on her lips while Leon's wide eyes stayed on her, an eager pull to his lips. "you first.", his words were sweet and soft, nearly as quiet as the air conditioner. "i was going to say thank you.", she let a breath release from her tense chest, "for the ride and your time.", a look of awe as lightening danced across the sky, lighting up the two.

In the quick light, she could see his hair stuck to his forehead from the walk to the car, blonde strands twisted and plastered to his tan skin. "it's- it's no problem. an honor- really.", he shifted, his hand running through those darkened locks, causing a drop of water to fall down his cheek. "to drive a pretty girl like you home.", a shaky breath left his wet lips, slick with spit from his tongue darting across them. her cheeks lit up, almost unbearingly hot. gaze dropping instantly. Her feet tapped softly, the bottles of gatorade in the floorboard nearly making her laugh. "do you want-", "i meant-", laughter filled the car as they spoke over each other once more. "do you want to come inside?", she didn't know why she was asking, he was a coworker- someone she saw nearly daily and felt... odd around.

She was inviting him inside? Leon's smile tilted, his eye squinting while the other remained wide in a 'why would you ask that?' way. "sure.", he nodded, looking back at his uniform pants, fingers on the keys, causing them to jingle as he cut the vehicle off. Did she not realize how dangerous that was? They'd just seen each other in passing. Then again, accepting his ride, had he been anyone but his sweet, caring self, would've also been a mistake. Did this girl not realize the situations she was possibly putting herself in? Sure, Leon had watched her, possibly for longer than she realized, her eyes reflecting the lightening as Leon stared at her. Pupils moving around as she thought, he wanted to know what about, was she thinking about him? was she finally piecing together that he really was, at the end of the day, a stranger.

———

Her fingers moved to the door knob as she twisted it, she didn't have to unlock her door, she wasn't a worrier, she trusted those who lived around her. She was insane, Leon had figured, who was so trusting that they accepted rides, offered people into her home and left the door unlocked. "you don't lock your door?", Leon asked, his head tilting as he walked through the threshold. "no- i trust everyone on this floor and sometimes Mrs. Jones will drop off some of her cooking for me.", she admitted as she placed her purse down on the counter, her apartment was very... her... it was cozy and warm- inviting - too much so. How could she just tell him that, that crucial piece of information about her life? "you just trust nobody will steal from you, come in while you're gone?", Leon couldn't help but press as his eyebrows furrowed.

Her shoulders rolled slightly, shaking out the stiffness as she wiped the rain from her face. "i haven't had any issues yet.", she was either very, very naïve or she was stupid. Leon wasn't sure which was the truth, she had gotten a job at RPD so clearly she wasn't stupid. She was just innocent and good natured, the world didn't deserve that. She didn't understand how dangerous it was out there, but Leon did. His family having been murdered when he was younger- he knew how nasty it was. He knew how human nature could become deranged so quickly, human nature was so quick to flip a switch. Someone so kindhearted could kill- someone so chivalrous could stab you in the back in a moment.

Maybe that's why Leon found himself staring daggers into her. How could she be so fucking naïve? "Are you thirsty?", she asked, her head lulling over her shoulder to get a good look at him. in an instant the glare was gone, swapped with a smile that made her feel like there were butterflies in her stomach. "do you have any tea?", he couldn't help but have his mind racing as he stared down at the girl in front of him. How fucking naïve could she be? It wasn't something he wanted to think about, what if some creep wanted to break in? What if someone hurt her. He could feel his eyes widening, training on her form. Hands reached up to open the cabinet, presumably holding mugs.

If she had turned around, she'd see Leon's perturbed stare, it irked him. How could she act as if her life wasn't in danger, because it was. In Leon's mind, she was always in danger. She lived in a relatively shitty end of town. Far from his apartment, he lived on the North side of town, near the college and bustling streets. She lived in the nearly dark side of town, hell, Raccoon City didn't even care to put many street lamps on this side of town. South side was always the place crime happened, it's where those increase in bodies had started, a few gang related incidents and some drug deals gone wrong. Did she realize how much danger was outside her doorway every day, the door she left practically open, inviting anything in?

Her hands pulled at the creaky cabinet doors, reaching for two mugs. "do you prefer any certain kind? i have many.", her eyes went to him, she knew he was acting a little off. He hadn't really acted the same as the station. People were different out side of work, she knew that. She was. Leon was just... "i'm okay with anything.", his hands slipped into his pockets, eyes dancing around the apartment. It wasn't the most decorated, nor was it going to be the cleanest. Throw pillows sat on the couch, she had a candle or two out, burnt down to the middle. Leon couldn't help but be more intrigued. He wanted to know more about the girl who seemed to throw caution to the wind.

"it's a....", his word droned on as she filled up the kettle, the water running over his words. "shitty?", she offered, a smile on her lips in amusement. "well- i wasn't-", he tried to cover up, trying to not offend the girl he just got to be near. "i'm fucking with you, Kennedy.", she giggled, fingers turning on the burner as she placed the metal kettle on the eye. "it's a shit hole- i know.", her hands rested on her biceps, crossing her arms over her chest. She watched as Leon took in her apartment, the decor and photos around. "you see anything that peaks your interest?", she was curious what else he would say. He was so awkward it was almost funny. "yeah...", he smirked, it looked cute on him, not douch-y as it did on most men. "you.", his cheeks flushed at his own flirt. Then, it was hurt urn to be flustered, her eyes nearly falling from their sockets. "me?", she breathed slowly, her teeth biting into the flesh of her bottom lip. "i'm fucking with you.", he used her own words against her. He meant it, but he didn't want to move too quickly, he was known to speak without thinking, girls found him awkward and too eager. He tried to reel back a little, not realizing how it looked to her. Kitty wished he hadn't been 'fucking' with her. "well played.", she laughed, hearing the whistle of the tea kettle, causing her to jump slightly. "shit-!", she hissed, quickly turning off the eye and pulling the kettle off the eye and pouring the steaming water into the respective cups. Before, she added in two bags of peppermint tea to them.

"we'll let it steep.", she spoke, her hands bouncing the bags, holding the paper ends. Leon watched as she did so... she was so domestic. Leon's apartment barely had anything in it. She had hers filled, cluttered in a well lived in way. Part of him was curious what her bedroom looked like. It was a good thing you could read people on, but what bothered him the most was the unlocked door. He couldn't get over that, he wondered how much more careless she could be. His head moved, looking towards the back of her apartment, a small hallway, two rooms on either side and then a door at the very end. "it's a cozy place, i didn't mean anything by it.", he felt the need to let her know he appreciated how welcoming she was, even if it found it astonishing that she'd let a man- someone who could easily over power her in her own home, into her safe space.

"its.. a shithole.", her hair fell over those big eyes, hands holding both mugs as she walked towards her couch. Leon's eyes followed up her legs, to her ass. her pencil skirt hugged her hips so perfectly. the way she swayed her hips and bent down to place the mugs in the corkboard coasters. He felt his dick twitch in his pants. slit brushing against the zipper, causing a small hiss to leave his lips. "you okay?", her head was turned back to look at him, her body still bent, the skirt tight over her plump ass. Leon stifled a groan, his eyes fighting to stay open and off of the black rippled fabric, there's no way she couldn't tell that her skirt was hugging her ass tightly. "i'm okay.", he had a slight whine to his tone, a huff of air leaving his throat as he moved his hands over his crotch, crossing them. "just a little thirsty is all.", the curtains over her sink window now becoming very... very interesting to him. His adams' apple bobbed, holding back saliva.

"tea's ready.", she knew something was happening, her eyes going down to his crossed hands, "you don't have to be nervous. I don't mind you being here.", it was almost cute how innocent she was. Leon also felt bad. How could he think of someone to cure like this. Imagining sliding that tight fabric over the plump of her- "Leon.", her voice broke his impure thoughts. "the sink really that interesting?", she crossed her arms, bottom lip slightly jutted out in a unconscious pout. "right, sorry.", his face flushed, an itch in the back of his esophagus starting up as his fingers brushed over the skin on his neck. "i zoned out there.", he explained it away.

"right...", she had a squinted look, her eyes tense as she watched him. Something- something wasn't right with him, she was sure, maybe it all amounted down to his nerves. Leon wasn't the most gracious in front of girls. She'd noticed then Jill spoke to him, his cheeks pink and eyes moving around anywhere but her. She'd found it cute at the time, but Leon was a grown man who, at least she assumed, wouldn't be that shy.

To anyone else, Leon was a nice man, he'd walk you to your car, help you with anything you asked him for. Give the shirt off his back. His eyes had picked up on her suspicions, he wasn't sure what she had made up in her mind about him, but he knew she was starting to act a bit different. A bit more cautious if he did say so himself. "i'm going to change, if that's okay?", she whispered, her eyes not leaving his. "that's fine. I'll just sit here and enjoy this tea you made.", lips curled back as his finger hooked the handle of the mug. it was cute, little cat motifs across the sides. "y-yeah-", her voice was airy, her hand wrapped around her midriff as she stepped back. "enjoy, i've got cookies in the cabinet too if you want any.", she offered, what a sweet girl.

As she walked into her bedroom, Leon leaned back, his back pressed deep into the couch cushion. His head tilted towards those 3 doors in the hallway. He didn't mean to be so nosey, but catching the purple bed spread and the open window from the closing door. He knew he had to be.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy x reader #resident evil #resident evil 2 #yandere leon #yandere leon kennedy #wattpad author #wattpad #re2 leon #officer leon kennedy #rookie leon kennedy #raccoon city #rpd leon

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queen-of-writing-bad-things · 11 months ago

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

Episode 4: Villains' Night (SMUT)

Season 1 Masterlist

Click for vibes

*Just a lil smutlet to start us off. I know it's short, like 1500 words, but I've been trying to be a bit more concise. Like, do people want to read 30,000-word chapters? Probably not, so I'm economising. And I'm like exhausted. I am genuinely so tired, but I want to get this out so you guys can enjoy it.

First, we have this meme I saw on Tumblr and edited to fit our doofus and sweet girl cos this is so them-coded:

SECOND! I was messing about with ChatGPT, and when I asked it to try writing some DF fanfics, it instead summarised the show and well...let's just say AI doesn't watch Nickelodeon.

I love this summary. I vote that we change the show so Schwoz has laser hands.

Anywho--smut is starting. Don't read if you're anti-filth or young. I will not be held responsible for anything. Soy inocente.

He really was a sight for sore eyes.

Ray Manchester was hot. No questions. End of story. He was God-like: made from chiselled muscle, supple, golden skin, and gorgeously floppy hair with a face made by angels. In uniform, out of uniform, tight t-shirt or no tight t-shirt, he was handsome, and the world knew it. He knew it. But there was only one person who he truly loved to hear it from.

He closed his eyes and groaned, hips snapping to bury himself deeper, floof falling into his vision with each punch of effort. His nose scrunched, lips pursed, eyebrows rumpled together, biceps bulging near his ears; he looked good like that. More than good. Really fucking hot as a shimmery sheen stuck to his wrinkled forehead, gasps falling from his mouth with each...heavenly...movement.

And if he was in heaven, there had to be an angel. And there was.

She was perfect--but when wasn't she? She cried out for him so sweetly, pressing her palms to his clammy chest and abs, rolling her hips into his; he couldn't ask for more, yet he did. Begged, even. She was sweating too, warmed by the close heat of the room and the mid-morning sun streaking through windows. Another morning where they'd lost themselves in the moment.

How long had they been at it? Two hours? Three? Maybe even four? He'd lost count, merely remembering that he'd woken up to his sweet girl staring at him--admiring, as she excused. She looked so pretty, snuggled up in his embrace, kissing along his neck before he could rub the sleep from his eyes. He knew he wanted her, but he didn't know how much.

Once wasn't enough. They had a break after the second. Now, they just had to fuck once more. He didn't care if it was a school day, if someone had already knocked on their door once, or if it was quickly approaching lunchtime - his wife was beautiful in the yellow light, and he was insatiable.

"Fuck, doofus!" And so was she.

(y/n) smirked as she panted rapidly, exhausted without leaving her bed, but that was okay. Her legs could ache, her arms could feel like jelly, and her pussy could throb, but she wasn't stopping. Not for the world. Not when she had a God beneath her, bound and broken from her swivelling hips.

Ray was so hot - a sight for sore eyes, especially when he submitted to her like this. Experience had told him that giving her a little confidence and room to experiment got him off quicker and harder than anything else, so he relented his dominance and penchant for rough play and gave her some space.

His arms were slung over his head, wrists tied to the headboard with a red tie stolen from his closet when he was resting from fucking her through the mattress. She looped the material around him before he could protest, and seeing her straddle his abs was more than worth it. (y/n) loved looking down and seeing her husband smirking back at her, his thick torso laid before her like a goddamn feast as she guided him to her cunt.

Everything was slower this time from lack of energy, but no less passionate. She rode him like a queen, swirling her pelvis, skin slapping skin as she left red crescents on his chest with her nails. She was glad to take the third round, giving him time to lie back and enjoy himself as his previous releases made everything slick and easy, smeared down her thighs and his.

"So good for me, doof..."

"Feel so good, precious girl." They gasped together, sharing a breathless brush of a kiss when the heroine bent in half to reach his lips. Hot air passed over her lips as Ray fought to hold her hips, make her move faster, squeeze her tits--anything. He wanted to feel his wife fully; was that a crime?

But she pulled away, grinding against his lap, enjoying how his cock rubbed against her walls. She wanted to enjoy the final moments of their lovemaking, fingertips exploring every ridge of his abdomen and pecs as he whined underneath her. He rarely allowed her such luxuries, letting her suck and nip on his neck and collarbones, clenching when he moaned at her sharp teeth digging in.

"Being so good for me, Ray..." she moaned, hunching over and smooching his shoulders as he growled, aching to hold her.

"Yeah? 'M good for you, sweet girl?" He replied softly, hating how well she tied the knot, but her praise softened the frustration. As much as he wanted to hold her, have her spread underneath him, and do it his way, this was perfect. He lived to please her, and gaining her praise was deeply satisfying, seeing how she smiled softly upon taking in his toned, tanned body.

He was gorgeous, sighing, groaning, moaning, succumbing to his fate, knowing he existed for her.

"Mm-hmm. Earned this for being such a good boy last week..." she grinned, gently stroking his abs to calm him down when she flashed back to those traumatic events.

Miriam and Percy were gone, and so was Ray's beloved hair. Instead of the chocolate floof, all (y/n) had to stroke and admire was his gleaming bald head, which felt weird under her lips when she kissed his head affectionately. Understandably, he was distraught, hiding in her embrace. No one could see his baldness, but thankfully, a salve from Schwoz quickly saw the floof growing again.

She breathed a sigh of relief - she needed something to pull when he was fucking her through the mattress.

"And sucking me off the next day wasn't my reward?" Ray grinned, bucking his hips into hers as he recalled how brilliantly sweet she was that night. Following the world's longest nap, he sobbed after glancing in the mirror; she rubbed his back and assured him it was fine. She loved him with hair or without, and he didn't complain when she got down on her knees to prove it.

God, that was a good night, sagging against the wall in the Man's Nest while she slurped and choked on his cock. It was a little weird to look up and see him with a buzz cut, but she could just close her eyes and let him use her - a cocksleeve for his enjoyment. And he didn't worry about it all night, bruising her body with his sheer passion, leaving them exhausted again but utterly satisfied.

"I could stop if you don't want this..." (y/n) teased, body thrumming with hazy, soul-shattering pleasure. Planting her hands on his stomach, she doubled her efforts, slamming her cunt on his throbbing cock when Ray's gaze darkened.

If he could, his hands would be on her hips, throwing her underneath him, keeping his precious wife where she belonged. Her pussy was his second home, his second favourite girl, and she took him so well. How could she even hint at stopping?

"Don't you fucking dare."

"Love you, doofus," the heroine giggled as she kneaded her chest, giving her husband a show as she rolled her nipples between her forefinger and thumb. His half-lidded eyes watched with hungry, wanting to take her tits in his hands and mouth--to love her properly. But he relented, an agonisingly warm softness blooming in his heart when she spoke those words so reverently, honest and true.

"Pretty girl...fuck, I love you more than anything," the hero promised, tugging at his restraints, desperate to take her in his arms and fuck her properly. He wanted to love her, feel her, and push himself in as deep as he'd go until he was permanently one with her- until it took.

That damn tie was too tight, making (y/n) giggle as she leaned down again to kiss him, hips writhing and bucking together to chase a nearing high. It would be intense and soul-shattering, but they needed it, burning with love, lust, and longing as her lips clumsily trailed across his cheek. She lightly bit his jaw, breathing hotly into his ear, sucking on his earlobe before whispering...

"Cum with me."

He wasn't one to refuse his wife, swearing he'd pull the stars from the sky if she desired them. But this was easy, squeezing his fists together as they stilled and groaned. He filled her easily, pumping endless ropes into her awaiting pussy as (y/n) screamed, wondering which number that one was. Maybe three or four - thoroughly fucked by her doofus as she collapsed onto his chest.

Everything was hot. The room. Their bodies. The man she married. She didn't dare move, scared of pulling away and spilling the precious cum coating her walls, so she nuzzled into his damp skin, kissing his chest. Ray was equally fucked, wrung-out and smug when he rolled his hips, fucking himself deeper, and pulled another gasp from her lips.

They never cared about the world in those quiet moments after, connected on more than a physical level. It was a man and his wife, a woman and her husband, and no one else. Nothing else mattered, not even when the door creaked open, and a fuzzy little head poked around the corner.

"The kids are waiting downstairs. When you're ready. After the smoochy-smoochy...so...hurry up!"

Poor Schwoz. He'd been waiting over an hour to approach them, straying closer to their door, only to hear such unholy noises escaping through the cracks. He backed away and came back, backed away and came--an endless cycle of trying to say that Danger Force was waiting downstairs, but he was terrified.

Seeing his boss hazy-eyed and tied to his bed was one thing: arms slung above his head with a band of red silk keeping him still. Hearing one of his oldest friends shriek and seeing her pull a wrinkled sheet up to her chest was another. But, almost certainly, he'd never recovered, nor would he ever be able to wash the imprinted image from behind his eyes.

Schwoz was mortified. (y/n) was horrified. But Ray? He was fucking delighted.

*And we're safe again. Enjoy the rest of the chapter! I actually really like this episode (especially since DF as a whole is a bit shit :)

"We are so late!" (y/n) hissed as she and Ray raced to the school, barely rubbing the sleep from their eyes. It was true; they were so late, oversleeping and rolling around the sheets until the sun was high and well past mid-morning. Well, not that the doofus cared, strolling behind his beloved wife with a dorky grin.

He was happy--annoyingly pleased with himself for discombobulating such a perfect and precious girl. Her Miss Danger uniform was haphazardly thrown on, slightly rumpled and creased from their sprint to the tube. At the same time, he casually buttoned his tunic and zipped up his pants, leaning over her when they paused to go downstairs.

For someone who'd done nothing but keep her in his bed all morning, he was surprisingly touchy, wrapping his arms around her, smooching her neck as (y/n) flicked through a file - everything the kids needed to learn today. She wanted to focus on some minor, simple missions that didn't involve fire, explosions, or death, but that wasn't easy when her husband wriggled into her arms like a needy child.

"Doofus, I'm trying to read!"

"Can't a man love his wife?" Ray cooed, arms draped over her shoulders as she tried to shuffle along the corridor, which was much more difficult with the man-baby weighing her down.

He pawed at her tummy and arms, hoping to hold her tight and retain her warmth and happiness away from the world--and that wasn't easy with a cup of coffee in his hand. He needed the caffeine after such a...rigorous start, although he was confident that his precious girl would end up drinking most of it.

As much as he...vaguely liked the children, they could be so annoying, and that morning, like every other morning, he wanted her all to himself. Was that so bad? They never got a day off together and only recovered from last week's exhausting mission. Those little demons were knocking on his door again, banging on about learning. It was so overrated...

"The man has been doing that all morning," (y/n) sighed, subconsciously leaning into his affections since his lips felt so ticklish on her neck... Despite everything, she loved the attention, taking the hand off her hip to intertwine their fingers as they walked along.

"And I love you, my pretty wife..." He smiled, hunched over in what must've been an awkward position to walk since his chin was resting on her shoulder. They stopped, hovering in the closet as the kids' voices grew louder on the other side of the wall. It made the adults freeze, instinctively pulling away from what Schwoz would call the "smoochy-smoochy".

God, he was still embarrassed, walking around with red cheeks and wide eyes, avoiding the couple like the plague once they shouted back to him and left their bedroom. No one knew where he was now, making (y/n) and Ray wary of where the fuzzy weirdo would pop up next, which made the hero grumpy. If it weren't for him, they might have gotten that day in bed...

"I know, Raymond..." she replied softly, petting his head when he hugged her close, wanting the quiet, solitary moment to last forever. "I love you too."

"...You don't think they'll miss us for another half hour, do you?"

"Yes. Definitely. And if you come near me again, doofus, I won't be able to walk." He pushed his luck, drifting his touch down her back toward her butt, only for his wife to stop him.

As much as she liked the thought of that...she was tired. Aching. Slightly sore. It was nothing her super-regeneration couldn't handle. Still, they had things to do, so no matter how much Raymond pouted, she stood fast, chastely pecking his cheek when his fingers narrowly escaped skimming her ass. He'd have her beneath him all day if it were up to him, and that was more of a vacation thing, not a mid-week, school day thing.

"You know how to flatter a man, sweet girl," Ray grumbled, sighing but squishing her cheeks together as he captured her lips. True to his word and her request, he refrained from turning it dirty, humming appreciatively at her taste before pulling away to straighten her pretty uniform. Had he told her how gorgeous she looked that day?

"Mm-hmm. I know how to flatter you. Come on..." she giggled, taking his hand as her ears warmed under his soft, gooey-eyed stare, guiding him to the door.

With the file perched open in her hand, they entered the room, smiling brightly as they faced the bored, dejected children. At last, the teachers had arrived - a mere three hours late - and they headed for the lectern, acting like everything was perfectly normal, even as four sets of eyes scrutinised their every move.

They were scattered around the room, Mika fiddling with something, Chapa dozing at her desk, wearing a cowboy hat, Miles eating a snack, and Bose working through a box of doughnuts. They'd run out of things to do whilst waiting for the adults, having heard nothing more from Schwoz, save that they were busy and on their way. Whatever busy meant.

"All right, simmer down, everybody! Let's cut the chatter!" Ray told the kids firmly as he took the thick file from his wife's hand and dumped it on the podium, ready to read what juicy crimes they had today. He wanted to command the room and avoid awkward questions, but he only worsened things like usual.

"No one was talking..." Mika replied flatly, wondering what the guy was talking about--except for being high and mighty like normal. She looked up from the blaster she'd been inspecting and eyed the couple suspiciously, wondering why (y/n) looked so tired after a relatively quiet night. Few emergencies, no criminals, very little to do - what had they been doing?

"Yeah, man. No chatter to cut," her brother agreed, smirking slightly when (y/n) nudged her doofus, pouting and begging for a sip--or rather, gulp--of his coffee. And like the soft idiot he was, Ray gave it to her, acting like her thirst annoyed him, yet he brought the cup to her lips. What a simp...

"Hey, (y/n/n)...You get out of the wrong side of the bed this morning? Your hair's all weird..."

"Oh, she got out of bed this morning, only it was Ray's side!" Chapa hissed snidely to Miles, earning a few giggles around the room as they knew something of the truth. It didn't take a genius to work something out, and they gagged and groaned at the thought of their teachers doing snuggly, cuddly things in bed.

Their chuckles and rude toilet humour comments made the woman glare, dryly raising an eyebrow over her stolen coffee while subtly patting her hair. Perhaps it was a little frizzy, ruffled from being Ray's pillow princess, and the hero wouldn't have any slander. If those jokers really wanted to know, he liked seeing her like that...she looked so very naturally beautiful.

"Well..." he said sharply, speaking above whatever they found so funny when (y/n) returned a trickle of coffee. "I kinda had my heart set on telling you guys to cut the chatter, so... Can we come in again? And, maybe, hear some chatter?"

"I didn't realise we were here to meet your needs..." Miles retorted, slowly chewing his jammy doughnut and swirling the liquid in his polystyrene cup. He matched the man's glare, knowing he was fond of his wife, being the simp he was, but they were just poking fun... It wasn't their fault they'd landed themselves in a real-life rom-com.

"Well, guess what? You are," Ray told him, equally biting as (y/n) clung to his beefy arm. His uniform made him look so handsome; how did he look so...put-together?

"Then, we can do that!"

"Great. We'll come in again. Let's go, doofus!" She smiled at them before ushering her stubborn lover out of the room. As he sipped whatever coffee she left him, disappearing into the closet, the kids erupted into forced, vociferous chatter, talking loudly across the room as if they were more interested in their dealings than schoolwork.

Behind the door, the couple waited a few seconds, counting ten seconds specifically as Ray swept his wife into a breath-taking kiss. His free arm curled around her waist as he held the file close to his chest, although he'd rather it was her. Still, (y/n) stepped closer until their navels touched, seemingly starving for that bubblegum mint until they had to pull apart.

In another beat, they reentered the room, following a smooth rhythm as if they hadn't shared a secret tryst behind the wood, falling into the racket without another word. Although, maybe one final fleeting glance at each other.

"All right, calm down, everybody!"

"Let's cut the chatter!" (y/n) shouted with her doofus, unaware of his game's point. Still, he seemed satisfied now, sauntering back to the lectern with the faux exhaustion of an overworked teacher. But the kids didn't stop, suddenly lost in their conversations. They weren't mindless rabbles anymore but excited chats about whatever teens talk about.

"Hey! The doofus said to cut the chatter!" She told the kids, feeling her husband press himself against her back as he smiled gently. She was so hot when she took charge, commanding the classroom with such wit and intelligence...he was in awe.

"All right, M-D. What ya got for us today, Cap?" Bose asked, placing his feet on the desk as the children took their seats, simmering down to politely play attention like good students.

"What we got is a big, steamin' bowl a' crime chowder. So, grab your spoons--let's eat!" Ray grinned, particularly proud of his metaphor, especially when his sweet girl giggled and gave him one of her pretty smiles. He was such a dork, slamming the thick file down so he could read out the crimes; only Mika had been busy...

"I digitised all those papers for you and uploaded them to the smartboard," she told them as her friends barked like excited dogs, earning a pleasant grin from (y/n) when she turned and noticed all the information on the screen. Whilst it made their lesson plan redundant, she supposed it was easier, knowing everyone could see the details rather than them reading it out.

"Aw, thanks, Mika!"

"Oh, well...what am I supposed to do with these?" The hero asked with a pout, holding the stack up since the papers were now useless. He turned to his beloved wife, seeking her judgement since she was usually so wise in these situations, even if the solution was obvious - he just wanted an excuse to gaze into her eyes.

"Recycle them, doofus?" (y/n) suggested, removing a speck of non-existent dust from his uniform, fingertips trailing down his chest as she smirked. Ray broke into a huge grin, taking her hand in his and kissing her knuckles as he chuckled--like something was funny.

It made her frown, wondering what amused him so much when she was just trying to be helpful. He didn't like seeing such an ugly expression on her face, making him smooch harder, but he couldn't help it - such a silly suggestion.

"Absolutely not, darlin'! You're so cute..."

"Throw them away?" Bose proposed, still reclining as the man cooed over his wife. He liked that idea much more, lighting up the room with his pearly grin since that made much more sense. Just throwing them in the trash would require less effort, and everyone knew recycling was a myth.

"Better! 'Scuse me, sweet girl..."

"What?!" The heroine gasped, frowning deeply as her husband scooched past and dumped the stack of papers into the regular trash can, utterly ignoring the waste paper basket beside it. They fell with a hollow thump, much like (y/n)'s heart, as she sighed and shook her head, spotting Mika's similar reaction - those girls lived in a world of goldfish.

"Burn 'em?" And it only got worse with Chapa's suggestion, egging Ray on because who didn't like fire?

"Best!" Ignoring his wife's facepalm, he grinned as he pulled the laser remote from his belt and zapped the documents. Instantly, they burst into flames, the warmth and glow spreading through the room, bouncing off the walls rather cosily, and the girls supposed it could've been nice if it didn't fill the place with an ashy, burning smell.

"Seriously, doofus?" (y/n) sighed, watching the flames lick the air as Mika helpfully went to fetch her a fire extinguisher. The man perched himself on a small cabinet, taking her into his arms as he set her on his knee and pecked her cheek affectionately.

His grin was infectious, pulling at her lips as she stood between his parted knees, mirthfully shaking her head. He was an idiot, but he was her idiot, looking too damn handsome for his own good as the kids admired the flaming spectacle.

"Recycle them! You're so funny, sweet girl... I'm so glad I married you," Ray murmured, gaze flickering to her lips before finding them. They smiled into it, feeling the ghosts of their wedding rings on their fingers, where they would be under their gloves if they weren't in uniform.

Meanwhile, Mika found that fire extinguisher, unlocking the plastic housing on top as she brought it over to (y/n). Even if it broke apart their clinch, the blaze needed putting out, so she abruptly separated from her husband with an awkward cough.

Despite often losing herself around Ray, acting like a schoolgirl crushing on the hottest guy on the football team, she tried to refrain from jumping him whenever the kids were around, even if she wasn't always successful. So, as he plucked a pencil from behind his ear and bizarrely dropped it into the flames, she chastely pecked his forehead one last time before turning to her little helper.

"Okay, crime time..." Ray announced, clapping his hands and getting on with teaching once he lost his wife's warmth - the fire was no match. Mika returned to her seat once (y/n) had the extinguisher, watching as the man began his so-called lesson while she blasted the fire with the white smoke, smothering the flames.

"Somebody stole a garden gnome off some old lady's front yard..."

"Oh, come on, doof. We can do better than that..." (y/n) commented as she breezily hobbled past, thinking they were above dealing with petty crimes like teenage misdemeanours. They had to leave something for the cops to pick over.

"Let's see...somebody hit Scary Gary in the head with a garden gnome--Oh. Actually, those two might be related," Ray hummed, seeing some connection, but it still wasn't spicy enough to be worth their time, practically sending the kids off to sleep on their desks.

One quick squeeze later, (y/n) extinguished the fire, making a mental note to find a replacement trash can later since that one was all melted and smoky. She walked back to where they stored the thing, noticing how her husband's eyes slid down her spine when she brushed past him, obviously lingering where her skirt met her thighs.

"Get to the good crimes!" Chapa suddenly barked, snapping Ray out of his daydream of soft skin and thick flesh, remembering that he was teaching. Thank God for the podium...

"Okay, gimme a sec, gimme a sec..." Ray muttered sheepishly as (y/n) returned to his side, flicking through dozens of petty offences, some more tedious than others. "Somebody stole all the books from the Swellview Library. Pfffft!"

"STOLE BOOKS FROM THE LIBRARY?!" Honestly, the couple didn't think it was such a big deal, heads jerking up in alarm when Mika abruptly pushed her chair back and slammed her palms on her desk, glaring menacingly.

If looks could kill, whoever made the mistake of nicking those books would be dead, even though they thought the kids wouldn't care. After all, kids don't read these days... But she wasn't the only one; terse looks penetrated the smartboard from all of them, including the kids they assumed wouldn't care. Mika, bless her, was a little nerdy compared to someone like Chapa...

"Someone's gonna fry tonight!" But even she was furious, looking slightly ridiculous in her black Stetson, fists sparking with scarlet electricity because she apparently cared about the library. Although, (y/n) would bet she'd never stepped in it once.

"Are you guys serious?" She asked, exchanging a confused glance with her husband when he paused over the next crime. It was almost laughable, swearing they were pulling their legs - Captain Man didn't read unless it was with his head in his sweet girl's lap as she dictated one of her romance novels whilst playing with his hair.

"Of course we are!"

"Libraries are a treasure trove of infinite knowledge!" The Macklin Twins replied in wonder-filled voices, more enchanted by a simple library than anyone would've ever thought. Mika was understandable, and Miles and Bose were perhaps a little far-fetched but interested in books, but Chapa? That was a surprise.

"And adventure!" Bose couldn't help but add, grinning cheekily as he mystically waved his hands. He wasn't bright, but there was a book for everyone - and he loved the picture ones.

"What?" Ray scoffed, glancing at all of them, but he didn't see anything to suggest a prank or elaborate joke.

"Stealing books from the library is not just a crime against one person," Mika explained, looking at the adults like it was apparent, a weird, determined grimace on her face. She wasn't just thinking about glorifying crimes; she saw the bigger picture, and so did her brother.

"It's a crime against the whole community!"

"And it will not stand!" Chapa bellowed, ripping the cowboy hat from her hand and slamming it down on her desk in a rage. By then, all the kids were on their feet, staring at their teachers, who still couldn't quite believe it. Were these the same kids who begged them to take them on incredible, exciting missions? The ones who were so eager for danger they caused a city-wide crime high?

"Okay, please tell us there's some sick turn coming," Ray said tentatively, barely able to focus on how his wife squished his bicep because he hated libraries. So dull and tacky. He preferred to defer those calls to his underlings, hopefully, the police, but they didn't laugh, call their bluffs, or shout sike! Their glares were steely and resolute, nails digging into palms at the thought of whichever scumbag stooped to stealing books.

"Only thing comin' is vengeance."

"And adventure!" At least Bose was cute, still caught up in his musings on adventure - a stark contrast to his friends' harshness.

"Because we love the library!" Miles insisted, almost teary-eyed at the thought of losing such a precious building. It was ridiculous to see him get so emotional, rowdily banging his fists in protest, and (y/n) saw that they were getting nowhere. She wasn't thrilled about it either, except maybe she'd pick up another cheesy novel, so she fluttered her eyelashes at her lover, knowing he'd need convincing.

"Well, doofus, the crime's already in our shopping cart. Let's just hit checkout," she sighed, pointing at the screen in what was supposed to be a fun, quirky way to get the kids engaged in choosing their missions. She thought it was cute, giving Ray her brightest smile, squeezing his huge arm, even if he returned a bored, joyless face.

"God, sweetheart, we're surrounded by nerds..." he groaned, but how could he refuse her when she looked so pretty? Glancing back down at his PearPad, he hit the library crime tab, pulling open a page about the brief information they'd received, and it still didn't sound fun. "All right, give me a second to read the details..."

"Okay, let's see... Okay, look! They didn't steal all the books. They left like ten copies of that one," the man pointed out when he saw the crime scene photo - a quick snapshot of one of the shelves, which still had a few novels propped up in the middle. He didn't see the fuss until one of the kids looked closer...

"Hey, what book is that?" Miles asked, squinting at the screen because he swore he'd seen it before. It looked so familiar, and it wasn't until Ray zoomed in that they all realised something tragic. Hilarious, but tragic--well, it was if you were its author.

"It is...Oh. My. God." Sitting there on the shelf, much to Ray's bitter disappointment, were ten copies of his book. His autobiography. Dozens of pages about his favourite subject. Himself. Thousands of words about Captain Man's life, hopes, and dreams, how he became a superhero, what he did in his free time, how he scored a beauty like Miss Danger, and it was all there for the citizens of Swellview to read. Because some philistine left it behind--probably on purpose.

All the colour drained from his face before a deep scrape poured back in, and he slammed the tablet on the lectern as his wife and students bit back chuckles. It was a bit funny - the irony of it all - but (y/n) tried not to show it, instantly smushing herself into his back as the hero stared at the humiliating insult, jaw clenched and eyes hard.

"Is that you on the cover?" Chapa asked, even though it was unmistakably Captain Man. He had the mask and everything, looking all smug with a stupidly long title since he could never stop bragging. Yeah, it was definitely his book.

"Yes."

"And they left it there?" Mika asked, too, trying to remain sympathetic and kind, but it was hard. The situation was funny, not that anyone could tell Ray that.

"Yes."

"All ten copies, doof?" (y/n) cringed, stroking his back to try and be comforting, but it didn't really help. Nothing could soften the blow of being so deeply insulted by some two-bit criminal, and Ray wasn't the type of man to take such abuse lying down. All he could do was stare at the floor and try not to cry in front of the kids, knowing they were already amused - they'd never let him forget the day a bad guy made him sob.

"Yes."

"They literally stole every book in the library except yours?" Miles sniggered, rubbing salt in the hero's wound. He was intentionally mean, seeing the irony more than he did. Still, it burned Ray's soul, making him want to bury his face in his wife's neck or hide under their bedsheets until a millennia had passed. Anything to avoid the shame.

"Someone's gonna fry tonight!" Ray snarled, his face screwed up in anguish and fury. No one, save his pretty girl, knew how hard he'd worked on that damn book - and literacy wasn't his strongest suit - angering him enough to make him want to squish something small. So, he did.

His fist came down on the plate of doughnuts from Miles and Bose's little picnic earlier, finding the squelch of the pastry under his hand deliciously satisfying. The brutal blow made it look like a pancake, squeezing the jammy filling out like some kind of sugary cannon, and unfortunately, Bose was its target.

A sticky, red blob hit him in the neck as Chapa cheered, ecstatic about gaining permission to electrify some no-good hooligans. Yet, she quickly frowned when her friend stumbled back. The jelly trickled down his uniform, clinging to his skin, but (y/n) barely reached for a tissue when the colour drained from his face--like he'd taken a fatal jam bullet to the torso.

"I'm hit!" He groaned before collapsing, playing every bit the wounded soldier as Chapa looked down on him in disgust, wondering what all the fuss was about.

"Relax, it's just--"

"This is the end for old Bosey..." the boy sniffled breathlessly like the wind had been knocked out of him, even as Mika and Miles gathered around his near-corpse, trying to soothe his grievances. "Confession time! I'm the one that stole that garden gnome."

"Well, Holmes, another case solved," (y/n) joked, smiling up at her husband with a dorky grin as Bose relaxed against the floor, going all floppy like he'd breathed his last.

Ray giggled with her, nuzzling their noses until he found her honeyed lips - an entirely inappropriate reaction for such a sombre moment - if the kid had croaked it. No matter how long he kept his eyes closed or how much his tongue lolled out of his mouth, he wasn't fooling anyone. Certainly not Chapa, who watched in utter disdain.

"Dude, you're fine. That's jelly," she retorted dryly, and miraculously, Bose's hand, stiff with rigor mortis, curled up to his neck to dab at the sticky substance. He licked his fingertips, lips twitching upwards when the pleasant sweetness caressed his tastebuds, and Bose decided death wasn't on his list so soon--not when the jam tasted so good.

"So it is! Raspberry, if I'm not mistaken!" He grinned, looking as vacant as ever as they all sighed.

Still, he wasn't as weird as the trash can, sitting quietly and innocently while it spontaneously bursting into flames without much warning. The fire came out of nowhere, spooking the group since (y/n) had definitely doused it with the gas. Weird - what kind of gag was that?

"Uh-oh! Hot can!" Ray remarked as he watched the bin smoulder, forcing his beloved wife to retrieve the extinguisher with a long, tired groan.

"That thing does not want to stay out!"

"This wouldn't have happened if you'd just recycled like a normal person, doofus," (y/n) grumbled as she lugged the metal cylinder across the room, fully intending on emptying the damn thing if it meant the fire would be put out. And, of course, as she worked, the others laughed, thinking it was hilarious that their trash can defied physics or whatever--since they didn't have to work to stop the place from burning down.

"We also wouldn't be laughing, darlin', so I mean..." Ray replied sassily, cackling with his fellow hyenas as the woman paused before the blaze, pondering her next move.

With one hand on her hip, she narrowed her eyes at her husband, knowing he wouldn't find it funny for long when she played her trump card. Her sharp glare made the children shrink back a little, more scared of her than they were of the idiot in the red and blue spandex, dampening their spirits as Ray batted his eyelashes.

He was an idiot, but at least he was a pretty idiot. An adorable idiot, worthy of an empty threat, as (y/n) smirked and jutted her hip out, never leaving his eye.

"You'll be laughing tonight while sleeping on the couch."

"No, sweet girl!" Now, that gave them something to laugh about.

~The Man's Nest~

Upstairs, the team had assembled to track down their prey now that they'd caught the scent.

They were looking for a scumbag who wasn't below stealing books from children, old people, and every other vulnerable person in the city, but that didn't really narrow it down. Who knows what lowlifes were lurking in the shadows?

The kids didn't really want to find out, looking to their teachers for guidance as they loitered around the room--or, in Bose and Miles' case, stretched together on the floor, foot-to-foot to really pull those lower back muscles. Luckily, though, whoever this jerk was, he'd made the mistake of forcing Captain Man's hand, making the man his enemy, and God, the guy was angry.

Not even (y/n) could soothe his temper, quietly observing his pissed-off pacing around the room as he imagined he would beat the crook's ass one hundred ways. No one messed with his book and got away with it, no one made him look like a fool, and no one, not even some smart Alec little bastard, stole all the romance novels before his precious wife got to read them all.

What would she do in the bath if she didn't have a book?

"All right! Who's ready to break some teeth?" He growled as he twirled a rope-like weapon in his hand, threatening to whack someone's eye out if he wasn't careful.

"Always!" Chapa replied immediately, squirming eagerly on the couch because that sounded like her type of fun, and it wasn't often she was allowed to truly release some anger on the criminals, no matter how scummy they were. Something about morals--whatever (y/n) thought they were.

"Ready in a bit!"

"Just gotta do a little stretching first!" Miles and Bose added, still in their shared teddy bear pose as they leaned forwards and backwards, enjoyed how their spines cracked and relaxed with each gentle stretch. Still, it made their teacher impatient, sticking out his bottom lip and practically stamping his foot as they remained on the floor instead of following orders.

"But I want to break teeth now!"

"We don't even know whose teeth to break yet," Mika argued from her seat at the mini-supercomputer, flicking between PearPads as she researched who it could be. Still, there were a lot of bad guys in Swellview. It could've been any of them, and she didn't know where to start.

On the other hand, Ray was particularly smug, stomping over to her with his arm roughly thrown around (y/n) 's neck, presenting her to the girl with a proud smirk--and not just because he got to marry her and she didn't.

"Wrong! I just uploaded a list of the most likely suspects. Tell her, sweet girl!"

"Um, Mika, if you'd just..." (y/n) smiled awkwardly as her doofus nudged her encouragingly, if a little impatiently. As he crowded her, seeking affection, the girl humoured her, tapping the screens a little until she found the list the mad had made.

It was long--really long, and not very specific, including names ranging from the big baddies like The Toddler and Doctor Minyak to those not even worth their time like Jeff or Mr Nice Guy. Hell, even Chapa was there for some reason, much to the heroine's frustration. This was why she didn't let her husband write the shopping list--he'd come home with God knows what.

"Doofus, this is literally every criminal in Swellview." She frowned, squinting at the list and gulping at the thought of roaming the city to find them all. Surely, the books were above The Toddler's usual crime habits. Yet, Ray just looked pleased with himself, squeezing her in his embrace since he knew how much she loved his updated uniform and how much bigger it made him feel.

"Yeah! Plus, a couple of people I just don't like."

"They're scattered all over town! It's going to take us ages to get through them all," she added, giving him a sceptical glance, but he just shrugged.

"Well, we better get going. We got a long night ahead of us, and I want to be back here, watching a movie on the couch with my wife by two. Hope you're wearing your teeth-breaking pants!" The hero growled, taking his pretty girl by the hand and turning toward the door, hoping to burn through the list so they could enjoy a quiet night together—fat chance.

"One of those dots is me!" Chapa called out, standing up when she read her name on the screen. Her face contorted in anger and offence, knowing that her boss had counted her amongst the scum - robbers, criminals, those he didn't like. But honestly, Ray wasn't ashamed, not even when (y/n) quirked her eyebrow at him in a mini-glare.

"Well, where were you last night? Huh?" He asked accusingly, snarling at the girl as he doubled back and marched up to her. "Out stealing every book in Swellview except mine?!"

"Calm down, doofus..." (y/n) soothed him, wincing slightly when his relatively calm tone turned cruel and sharp. She knew he was upset, but she wouldn't let him be nasty, noticing how a pang of hurt passed Chapa's face, utterly disgusted at such an accusation.

"I don't steal books! I'm not a monster!" She bit back, folding her arms and staring at him from the couch. He wasn't a harsh man by any means - his wife would vouch for his deeply ingrained kindness - but his tendency for rudeness genuinely wounded the girl. Did people really see her as someone who'd stoop so low?

"We'll see..." the man muttered, admitting defeat for now as he turned his back on her, petting his wife's head like she were a cat. They slunk away, Ray content to let his lover fuss over him since she was so good at distracting him, and that allowed the kids to think with interruption.

"I got a better way to find the criminal," Mika said, eyeing the couple as her friend pecked her husband's nose, bringing a sickly saccharine smile to his face - so adorable, it was almost disgusting.

"Better than spending six to eight days walking all over town, collecting criminal teeth to get that sweet, sweet coin from the Tooth Fairy until we randomly happen upon some random criminal that admits to stealing the books? I'd like to hear it!"

"You've got to stop watching those True Crime shows, Ray..." The heroine shook her head, knowing he was getting carried away again and letting his inner child run rampant. Still, Mika brushed over it--in the right while he was in the wrong as always.

"Well, you know that place, The Beatin' Dungeon?" She questioned smugly, and the couple instantly had flashbacks to happier times.

It was months ago, making (y/n) smile at the thought of her last family reunion and how her then fiancé--which was so weird to think about--nearly worried himself sick without her in his arms. It was so bad that he needed a pick-me-up, growing bored with his day-in, day-out fights against the same-old criminals, so he signed up to fight some loser. He never thought he'd find common ground with The Toddler, but it was almost magical - Henry Hart's work, of course.

Just thinking about the kid made their smiles sour, and the woman made a mental note to try and call the kid whenever she had a free minute--just to see how her babies were doing. God, she missed them, sharing a brief, teary glance with her soulmate, and she knew he was thinking the same. Happy times...

"I barely know where I am right now..." Bose replied honestly, not jokingly, bringing them back to reality, and four new kids needed guidance. They had a job and quickly moved on from memory lane as the boys stopped stretching and got on their feet.

"The Beatin' Dungeon is this place where villains and heroes get together to fight each other for fun," (y/n) explained, leaving out the bits where her doofus failed to secure a decent opponent despite being Captain Man. It wasn't her style, a little crude and brutish to brawl for fun, but others thought differently...

"Sweat! When do we go?" Chapa asked excitedly, hopping off the couch with an eager readiness to start breaking faces; a fight club was precisely her idea of fun.

"Tomorrow night. It's Villains Only Night," Mika replied, giving the girl a confident smirk after researching the supercomputer, unlike Ray, who was all action and had no brains in her eyes. Yet, the man wasn't entirely clueless, rolling his eyes and scoffing when he heard her glorious master plan.

"So?"

"So, we get Schwoz to make up some bad guys costumes..." Miles supposed, seeing what his sister had planned, although they'd need to find the genius in whatever hole he crawled into. He was still strangely mortified for some reason...

"We head down The Beatin' Dungeon..."

"And adopt a rescue dog that we bring home and say, in a way, he rescued us!" Bose finished, happily concluding his friends' scheme, although he'd gotten a little lost. They all looked at him with tired, if slightly bemused, expressions, wondering how they could be angry at those dimples, even if he were such hard work. Still, though, (y/n) perked up at the news of a puppy...

"So close..."

"Was he?" Miles murmured to Chapa as they both cringed, clueless about what went through that boy's head. Surely, it had to be filled with cotton wool; grimacing at his simpleness as Mika awkwardly carried on.

"Or...we hang out and see if any criminals are bragging about stealing books from the library," the girl suggested, glancing at Ray and (y/n) for permission, and whilst the man looked slightly bitter for not thinking of something so clever, his sweet girl grinned and nodded.

"Sounds good to me!" The woman exclaimed as Miles and Chapa agreed, keen to go somewhere dark and dangerous--to mingle amongst the criminal throngs and intercept their enemy in his den. They loved the thrill of it, especially if it meant wearing a weird costume.

"Hold up, wait a minute, let me put some Captain in it!" But Ray had other ideas, sticking his cheesy grin in the mix, even if it made the kids' faces fall.

"I don't know what that means..."

"Me neither." Mika and Chapa remarked dryly, giving the hero a confused look as he swaggered like a testosterone-fulled peacock. Instead, they looked at (y/n), hoping she'd translate whatever he was saying since she spent every waking minute with him--loved him, even his...more annoying parts.

"He thinks he has an idea..." she told them, hovering by her husband and squishing his beefy arm, curling around her waist and bringing her flush against him. Something about him looked extra handsome from that angle - perhaps extra tall, broad, or rugged, looking down at her gently before giving the kids a stern gaze.

"Also, about that puppy..." She fluttered her eyelashes and raked a palm down his chiselled chest, using all her tricks to try and persuade him that Bose might be onto something there. She'd always been a sucker for cute puppies, even though they were perfectly content with Colin the rabbit.

"We're not getting a dog, sweet girl," Ray told her firmly but kindly, following up with a sweet kiss on her pouting, honeyed lips. He wanted to give her the world, but that sounded like hell, cleaning up after another animal with all the younglings crawling all over their home. It broke his heart to say no, but (y/n) didn't take it personally, satisfied with the kiss for now, even when he pulled away.

"Aw..."

"It means..." Ray said to Danger Force as he tried to move on, stumbling slightly when his wife reached onto his tiptoes and planted a clumsy smooch on the stretched expanse of his neck. He gulped, shivering at the ticklish sensation as Chapa and the boys grimaced, with only Mika thinking their affection was mildly romantic as the heroine pulled away with a besotted expression.

"It means it's up to me to point out that nobody ever goes to Villains Only Night. Check out their Fakebook page," he told them, tapping on the PearPads before finding a sad, lonely social media account with little to no followers or traffic. It was just saddos on bar stools, drinking their sorrows away as they waited for something fun to happen, not that it ever did.

And was that The Lawn Ranger Ray saw? God, seeing that weirdo again sent shivers down his spine from the mere thought of his loser aura.

"I thought of that, and I have a solution!" But Mika had it covered, grinning at the sceptical hero as his arms shook around his sweet girl with smug laughter. There was no way...

"Pfft! A better solution than spending six to eight days walking all over town, collecting criminal--"

"Yes, doofus! We're not going through that again," (y/n) interrupted, clamping her palm over his mouth so he couldn't repeat his rant. His lips pursed against her, pecking her sensitive skin, making her giggle, but at least he shut up, going limp and soft in her arms because who was he to talk back to his beloved wife?

"We just have to offer something else that everyone loves," Mika said like it was simple, and even Ray couldn't agree with that.

"Like face painting!" And for once, Bose was helpful, and no one could say they saw something wrong with the lighthearted, childish, and harmless. Even villains loved the face painting, so the girl quickly typed it into the Fakebook page, advertising the new activity for all to see. Meanwhile, Chapa and Miles rambled about their favourite designs, something about cute squiggles on their eyes and cheeks.

"Wait a minute--that's not gonna work!" Ray remarked as he embraced his wife, but the replies flooded in when Mika sent the post. Dozens of criminals, villains, and general scumbags instantly commented their support, pledging they'd attend Villains Only Night for the face painting - the most brilliant idea yet.

"It seems like it's working, doof..." (y/n) whispered to her lover, giving him a soft smile since he'd been proven wrong - his worst nightmare. Still, he wasn't a sore loser...too much.

"Fine! But where are you gonna find somebody to paint faces, huh? For free!?" He asked, sneering at Mika since he didn't want to fork out for such a simple mission, not when he could spend that money on something much more deserving, like his wife.

But Miles had other ideas. Getting to his feet, the boy threw his head back, inhaling deeply before he released an ear-shattering bellow--loud enough to make everyone jump, and the walls felt like they were shaking.

"SCHWOZZZZZ!" He screeched to the heavens, and low and behold, the fuzzy little coconut appeared. He'd been hiding in an alcove in the ceiling, strapped snuggly in a harness so he could read Ray's beloved book in peace without any more incidents. God, it was still burned into his eyelids, a faint blush dusted over his cheeks as he descended from whichever nook or cranny he'd been avoiding his boss in.

"Yes?"

"AHH!" Everyone jumped, yelping when he dropped down out of nowhere like a goddamn bat, making (y/n) cower into her doofus' arms as he frowned. So, that's where the little weirdo had hurried off, licking his wounds because he couldn't knock.

"Can you paint faces?" Miles asked calmly, despite how rapidly his heart pounded.

"Yes." Schwoz nodded - one of his many hidden skills, although he wasn't sure why the boy wanted to know. He'd had enough shenanigans for one day.

"For free?" Mika questioned further, smiling brightly at the genius, even though she wasn't sure why he wouldn't look in her direction. He wouldn't even glance toward Ray and (y/n), knowing he'd turn a deep red if he made eye contact, so he stared straight ahead, at one of the kids, or at the propped-open novel in his hand.

"Yes."

"We need you to go to The Beatin' Dungeon tomorrow night," Chapa instructed him, and the guy readily agreed, hoping to get back to his book. It wasn't like he had much else to do. God knows he didn't fancy wandering the Man's Nest halls again after what happened a few hours earlier, so he nodded casually. Sometimes, it was just nice to be part of something, and painting faces sounded fun.

"Ho-kay!" He smiled before tapping a remote control in his pocket and rising into the rocky crannies above their heads to read in peace. It was like he couldn't wait to leave...and why did he look so pink?

"You gotta make us some bad guy costumes, Schwozie!--Please!" (y/n) added, calling after him despite how awkward it made her feel. Ray had no shame, smirking at how shy his nosy handyman was when he openly nuzzled his wife's hair, but at least she had the decency to use her manners. If he was embarrassed, she was mortified, remembering how he must've gotten the full show for ten seconds before they realised what was happening. It made her face feel like lava...

"Ho-kay..." his meek response shouted back, burying his burning nose into the pages of Ray's early career before those horrifically vivid memories returned.

"And you gotta let us adopt a dog!" Bose shouted, nudging (y/n) as she giggled and nodded enthusiastically, much to her husband's exasperation. Two against one was hardly fair...

"No-kay!"

"Fine! But if I steal another garden gnome to fill the void inside me, it's your fault!" The boy snapped harshly before whipping around and storming out of the Nest--throwing an utter tantrum, much to his friends' confusion.

Well, at least Schwoz was on his side, even if he'd spent the morning burning bed sheets and scrubbing the walls, floors, tables, and chairs. Who knows what had been defiled? He certainly didn't want to think about it.

~The next day~

Sometime later, Schowz had forgotten about his blushes. Of course, he'd never forget the embarrassment, avoiding eye contact as he dashed around the room, but he had a job. He couldn't prepare their covert mission if his eyes were on the floor, so he soon jumped to it, fiddling with God knows what as the kids ran riot around the room.

They were bored, numbingly so, almost bored to tears by the time he was nearly ready, prodding and poking (y/n) as she patiently waited for their disguises to be finished. Schwoz's unique gumballs took time, but finally, they were ready, making Miles bound up to Bose as the long-haired boy relaxed in the chair near his mini locker.

"Bose! Get over here! Schwoz is giving us our bad guy costumes!"

"Swet! We bad guys now?" He asked, quickly standing up and following his friend as he tossed his headphones into Chapa's chair since he didn't need them anymore.

The girls gathered around, too, having sat around the couch table, nattering about this and that--mainly gossiping about what Ray was like behind closed doors. Even the surly girl couldn't help but lean in close when Mika asked if he was a sweetheart. However, she regretted her choice when the heroine gushed about her ever-loving husband and all the beautiful things he did for her - supposedly.

"No, we're still good. We just need to look all mean and evil," (y/n) explained, petting the boy as he smiled pleasantly, looking slightly confused. As if they'd ever stoop so low...the thought of all those dark and angsty clothes and rude attitudes made her nose wrinkle.

"So, we can go undercover to Villains Only Night at the Beatin' Dungeon..."

"And find whoever stole those books from the library," Mika and Chapa explained, even though they'd run through this fifty times. It was like he never learned or didn't listen, or perhaps he was just a bit slow.

"Okay, cool! I just came up with a great bad guy persona for myself..." Bose noted as Schwoz slowly came over with a tray of five glowing gumballs, all coded with whatever outfit he'd assigned for them. It had taken him hours to perfect his craft; the kid's suggestion was late and awkward. "I want to be...Bad Bose!"

"That's definitely bad, but not in the way you're thinking," Mika retorted, trying to spare his feelings, even as they chuckled at the terrible name. It made him happy - Schwoz, on the other hand...

"Oh, I'm not thinking at all. That's my secret..."

"It took me all night to make these bad guy gumballs, so the rule is you get what you get, and you don't get upset," the genius told them, barely glancing at the woman, but he stared at the children. They were more likely to complain since (y/n) didn't have a single argumentative bone in her body, not after he'd seen more of it than he ever wanted to.

Danger Force argued otherwise, building up their expectations for their big night, and their costumes had to be good. If Schwoz had given them something awful, he'd hear about it.

"No frowny-making, no head-shaking, no bellyaching, no offence-taking. You just chew and blow, and off you go!" He said curtly, hoping to get some peace and quiet whilst they were out - a chance to get the trauma he'd witnessed out of his head. He strolled along the lineup, handing each superhero a gumball with their assigned persona, and they all peered at the funky candy suspiciously. Would they really be satisfied with what he'd chosen?

There was only one way to find out: swallowing the gumball and chewing quickly before blowing their bubbles. Much like when they transformed into their super-suits, the costumes materialised them, ranging from creepy to cool to downright weird. Everything was dark, sharp, and dangerous, with thick makeup and crazy wigs shielding their identities whilst giving that criminal aesthetic. They definitely looked like criminals - it was almost scary.

"Nice..."

"What have you done to me?!"

"Love this!"

"I look so angsty..." There were mixed responses, with Chapa and Bose loving their new looks, while (y/n), Chapa, and Miles weren't so impressed. They walked the path of righteousness, and looking so evil wasn't their style, especially when the boy's outfit looked so...kooky. Like some kind of psycho hillbilly, Miles looked ridiculous in a bright red shirt and overalls with a silly little brown cowboy hat and, worse, a long, frizzy, coarse beard, which was so long it went down to his knees like a hairy waterfall.

"You are Weird Beard...because your beard is weeeeeeeeird," Schwoz giggled to himself, tugging on Miles' thick, glued-on facial hair, much to the boy's annoyance, especially when he heard the mockery. It tickled his face and pulled on his skin, not to mention how it caught between his legs and nearly made him trip, so indeed, he could've come up with something better than that.

"Dah-dah-dah--what did I say?" But he couldn't complain when Schwoz shook his finger in his face, angered by how he threw his head back and groaned loudly.

"I mean, I love it," Miles replied dryly, looking less than in love with his costume, but what could he do? He'd just have to look like some hick in his country-style clothes and ignore how much he hated the weird, irritating beard.

"Good!" Schwoz smiled before moving on to Mika, who looked particularly frantic with her hideously malicious-looking costume.

(y/n) had never seen her in something so dark and creepy, what with her all-black, all-denim jeans and jacket covered in strategically placed barbed wire. It wrapped around her legs and looped around her waist before crossing her chest in an intricately dangerous design that would scratch anyone who came too close. It even snaked into her hair - a tall, crazy wig that stretched to the ceiling, thanks to three cans of hairspray.

Her makeup consisted of smoky eyeshadow, black lipstick, and delicately painted tattoos, spooking everyone who saw her, including herself, and she freaked at the thought of being so...mean.

"Why is mine so scary?!" She asked Schwoz in a panicked voice, feeling miles away from her usual bright, cheery, approachable attire.

"Because you're a villain--The Mangler!" He told her like it was obvious, having said that they needed to look scary, so he made her look terrifying. Honestly, some people were so ungrateful...

"I know, but does it have to be this scary? What if I was something like...The Pretty Bad Pony?! Or just...The Pretty Pony?--" She rambled, praying for something pink, glittery, and girlish, but Schwoz ignored her. He brushed past without another word, leaving her disguise as it was since she was meant to look devilish, not like a My Little Pony.

"You're The Mangler! This is your mangling stick..." he told her firmly before passing over a disgusting-looking lump of wood. It was like a snatched plank of wood, so splintery and rotten that he needed to wrap a bandage around the end to protect her soft little hands. That and the other end was riddled with rusty nails and more barbed wire, which would undoubtedly give anyone tetanus if they were scratched or pierced by the macabre shards of metal.

"Is this dried blood?" Mika gulped as she inspected her signature weapon, only to feel the sticky, smelly substance smeared on her fingertips, and she knew blood when she saw it. Where and what had he been doing with it?

"Yes, it will dry eventually." The thought could make her vomit, but he quickly smiled at Chapa, who didn't look too different in her terrifying clothing.

"You are El Stabador..." he explained, gesturing to her black jacket and breeches, which looked like an emo matador costume with brassy buttons and smart, patent leather shoes. But there were metal spikes on her shoulders, half a demonic skull face painted on her face, and her hair had been styled and sprayed into a spiky quiff. So, coupled with her usual terrifying scowl, she looked terrifying, much to her delight since everyone always insisted on looking so cute and cuddly.

"¡Claro que sí! Y mi destino es--" She grinned, calling upon her inner Latina since these were the clothes of her ancestors, not that Schwoz gave two shits. He quickly looked at Bose, who had to be the strangest out of the kids, wearing something that could've only come from the genius' diseased imagination.

"And you are a Yerban Santa Claus, who takes to us from kids, then punches them," he described to the overjoyed boy, who loved his freaky getup.

He got to wear a thick, furry suit that made him look like half-man, half-bear, except for his wild, bushy wig, which protruded two curled horns. His face looked hideous, changed into a horrifying snarl, thanks to thick white face paint, arched eyebrows, and a prosthetic nose. No one could ever see through the disguise, and he even freaked (y/n) out a little bit as she hovered beside him.

"I can do that. Do I get a bloody stick?"

"Yes!" Mika nodded quickly, instantly offering him her mangling stick before it made her sick, and it nearly took off Bose's fake nose as she waved it under his chin.

"Watch where you wave that thing, guys..." (y/n) remarked as she jumped back, scared to take a nail to the eye as Bose twirled it through the air like a magic wand; only she'd need more than witchcraft to patch up whatever damage that thing did. Her costume was cute yet creepy, a subtle order from Ray since he didn't want his sweet girl to be too far out of her comfort zone, so Schowz had gone down a classic horror movie route.

"(y/n), tonight, you will be Doll Face..." Schwoz told her without meeting her eye, a faint blush dusted on his cheeks as (y/n) clutched a morbidly gory teddy bear dotted with blood and gouged slightly to look extra scary. It was like something from a slasher film, and she felt like another person as her palms sweated in her black gloves.

But that was her whole aesthetic as a frighteningly creepy little girl, clad in her gothic, lolita dress, knee-high mesh stockings, heeled boots, and a black wig, plaited into two braids that hung beside her drawn, gaunt face. Her lips were painted a deep red, and there was a teardrop and a heart stained on her skin for a toy-like effect, completing her possessed dolly appearance.

"Hopefully, never again..." she muttered as she smoothed out the imaginary wrinkles in her skirt, ignoring how Schowz skedaddled away before he could look at her too much, cheeks flaming with mortification. God, he needed to get over himself; what did he think married couples did when they had a few hours to themselves?

"Okay, time to head to The Beatin' Dungeon..."

"Hang on, we're missing our resident doofus." (y/n) stopped everyone before the genius could shove them out of the door because, as much as everyone thought he was an idiot, she knew his strength and experience would be invaluable as they entered enemy territory. And, speaking of the devil...

A loud, shrill, cawing sound came from the hallway across the room, seeming like a bird with a sore throat was trapped behind the steel door. Of course, it was just Ray, who was over the moon with how ridiculous and bizarre his specially designed disguise was.

He'd made it himself, but that didn't come as a surprise as the door slowly ascended to reveal his...bird costume. Like some kind of feathered Batman, he had a thick, dark hood over his head, which cast a shadow over his masked face since he didn't want to risk anyone recognising him. His nose was made to look like a hooked beak, matching the long, greyish-black feathers stitched onto his sleeves to give him a bird-like appearance. Well, a bird wearing a brown waistcoat and slacks, that is.

"Oh...I forgot about Ray," Schwoz grumbled as the man dramatically revealed himself, much to (y/n)'s, even though she didn't like how creepy everyone looked. She skipped over to him, throwing her arms around his shoulders, uncaring of his need for dramatic flare since it had been a whole hour since they'd rolled out of bed, and that was the last she saw him.

But, as much as she wanted to embrace him, hold him close, and kiss him, Ray was a little too into his new role.

"Ray no longer exists. He's been re-hatched...as Hawkfist!" He growled in a throaty voice, looking effortlessly cool and mysterious with his makeup and hood, but his name, attitude, and vibe...they were tragic. And (y/n) pouted as he boldly stood before her, brushing away her arms when she went for a hug so that he could pose and scowl like some wronged vigilante with a tragic backstory.

"Doofus!" She complained, looking petulant in her childlike attire as she stamped her booted foot and crossed her arms to the backtrack of his shrill caw-caw! He was so busy trying to convince everyone that his outfit was cool that he didn't think twice about his beloved wife, not even as she pursed her lips and frowned, scuffing her heel against the ground.

"Hatched? So...you were once an egg?" Miles questioned flatly as the children stood there with Schwoz, unimpressed and unresponsive, save that they felt a little sorry for (y/n) as she pouted, jilted and lonely.

"I guess," Ray replied, having not really thought anything through except he wanted to be mysterious and foreboding.

"And if you're re-hatched...that means you hatched twice?" Chapa added with a slight smirk when she realised how stupid his character was and how he stumbled when they pointed it out. There was no arguing with him, but God, he was so easy to wind up.

"If that's what I said, then yes," the hero sniffed, trying to stay calm under pressure, but they kept going.

"Do hawks even have fists?" Mika asked, folding her arms as she ridiculed him without mercy--anything to make him antsy since he upset her friend when all she wanted was a little affection. Perhaps that was petty, but that outfit was awful, clearly something from his mind and not Schwoz's.

"This one does."

"So, who were your parents?" Bose furthered, prompting the hero to become properly annoyed with their incessant questioning when he really didn't know the answer.

"I don't know! A hawk and a fist--why don't you guys shut up?!" He growled defensively, hands still clenched by his face, although he didn't feel as epic now. If anything, he regretted his costume choice, wishing he'd gone with something that made more sense, but it was too late - the mockery didn't stop.

"Because we have a lot of questions about...this," Miles retorted, vaguely gesturing to all of him--the entire weird ensemble.

"There's no time. To The Beatin' Dungeon! Caw-caw!" Ray declared, desperate to avoid the awkward situation as he clawed the air and shrieked that awful shriek.

It was loud enough to deafen everyone as he flapped toward his sweet girl, suddenly overcome with the need to hold her in his arms after an hour apart. He'd had his moment of glory, and now, he focused on her, beak-like face turning into a smile as he went to embrace her and find those honeyed lips. Yet, to his surprise and almost disgust, when his hands found her hips, she pushed them away and stubbornly stuck her nose in the air. It was a shock to all who watched, not just the baffled hero.

"Sweet girl? I wanna kiss..." he mumbled, leaning in again with hooded eyes and a voracious hunger, but (y/n) was in the mood to play. Even if it was slightly childish, she wanted to teach him a lesson for leaving her hanging, no matter how much she craved his lips against hers.

"Sorry, Hawkfist, but I only kiss my husband," she replied firmly, but there was a hint of teasing behind her tone. His face fell in disappointment and confusion, which slightly tugged on her heartstrings, but she stood fast, even when those big, warm hands rubbed her hips suggestively.

"But that's me...we got married." Ray pouted, hugging his beloved wife closer as he reflected on his life's best, most precious day. He waited years to make her his, so to be denied what his heart truly desired was devastating.

"You said Ray no longer exists. I suppose that makes me a widow, right?"

"Never." His reply was instantaneous and absolute, his grip tightening on her skin as his brow furrowed. He'd never leave her, and he wrinkled his nose at how she so obviously teased him, looping her arms around his shoulders and grinning like a Cheshire Cat. Of course, their wedding rings would still sparkle if they wore them under their costumes, and he hated how everyone poked fun at his choice.

"I'll kiss my doofus," (y/n) declared, withholding her lips when he tried to lean in again by using her fingers as a barrier. He kissed her palm instead, making her tummy tingle, and the children rolled their eyes at how disgustingly affectionate they were. She was adamant that she'd kiss the man she married, her beloved Ray, especially when he did that silly voice.

"That's me."

"He doesn't speak like that. Do you need a lozenge or something?" She retorted upon hearing his husky, Hawkfist tone, thinking it sounded like he had a sore throat, even if the slight possessive note made her gulp. She loved whenever those baritone notes of his hit her ears, how he teased her, and how he whispered such loving words, none of which was the same if he kept playing the role.

"I want a kiss, sweet girl..." the hero demanded sternly, now craving her honey more than ever, although it still eluded him that he'd unknowingly ignored her first advances. He wasn't a patient man, but (y/n)? She had all the time in the world.

"And I want my husband, so I guess we're at a stalemate."

"Guess so..." He shrugged, settling for a mere peck on the forehead when she flat-out refused, giving a steadfastly stubborn and challenging look as he gazed down at her. Still, he noticed how her eyes fluttered shut when his lips met her skin, and that was enough to tell him of her love and how this was just a game. Perhaps it would make everything sweeter in the end, but nothing was more precious than her...

"You'll want one soon, though, pretty girl. Caw-caw!" With one final shrill - since he couldn't get what he wanted most - Ray took off with a slight pout, skipping and flapping his wings as he headed to the door. It was pretty comical to watch, given that he was a grown man prancing around like a child. Yet, when he ran toward the mountainside without slowing down, it was painfully obvious what the doofus planned to do.

"Wait, Ray, you can't fly, you big doofus!" His beloved wife cried after him, and it delayed him a little. She was the only one he'd ever wait for, but even so, in his pouty, doofy state, Ray didn't have his thinking hat on.

"Ray can't--but Hawkfist can! Caw-caw!" He growled determinedly, keen to show them his costume's brilliance, but it couldn't work miracles. For all his talents and prowess, not even Captain Man could sport wings and fly, not even to impress his sweet girl.

"Raymond! That's the mountain! Don't be a doofus all your li--oh my god!" She yelled, yet it was too late. Ray was too far gone, leaping through the doors without a second thought for safety or his friends' advice. No, it was a great idea...until his indestructible, if squishy, body took the first blow on the steep, craggy rock face.

The first cries of pain reached their ears, and it was more than (y/n) could bear, forcing herself to hide her face in Schwoz's shoulder.

Damn, their embarrassment; she hated the thought of her doofus rolling down the mountain like a bouncy ball, no matter his indestructibility. He smelled like engine oil and paint - like every handyman she'd ever met - and it was oddly comforting, especially when he kindly wrapped a friendly arm around her shoulders. Chapa found it hilarious, struggling to smother her giggles in front of her friend, but (y/n) only heard her lover and his anguished cries.

Remind her never to withhold his kisses again, although she'd definitely kiss his boo-boos better. Anything for her doofus.

~The Beatin' Dungeon~

This place never changes...

(y/n) thought to herself as she immersed herself in the dark, dirty, dangerous converted warehouse that was The Beatin' Dungeon. It had everything a villain could want: spare rooms for evil rendezvouses, a grungy, rundown bar, plenty of fighting gear, and enough space for criminal misdeeds.

They could whisper and plot anything in the shadows without worrying about the cops infiltrating the premises. No one got past the guards at the front door, who scrupulously turned away anyone they deemed a goody-two-shoes. No superheroes would pass the threshold on their watch, allowing their villainous colleagues to gather in their swarms on the inside. That is, if six supers didn't sneak in...

God, she remembered everything about The Beatin' Dungeon as she stuck to Ray's--or Hawkfist--side, dodging every mean, ugly mug that glared her way when they navigated through the swathes of people. She barely liked parties as it was, but this was way beyond her depth - pretending to be evil, enjoying it even, but he commanded their chitchat effortlessly.

Ray was a natural, probing and interrogating every asshole who dared to get in his path as the children followed his lead. With a hand on the small of his wife's back, the hooded hero and Doll Face mingled politely, trying to dig deeper whilst keeping an eye on Danger Force. There were three very simple rules: don't hit the bar, don't get caught, and don't die. (y/n) didn't think that was much to ask as she briefly hugged each kid and sent them off, stressing to her doofus that it was like sending lambs to the slaughter--into the lion's den.

"Are you sure this is a good idea? I don't think this is a good idea. I mean, look, that woman's looking at Chapa funny--I should go over there and knock her out--You know what? I'mma knock her out--"

"Sweet girl..." A calm, reassuring voice broke the heroine out of her ramble, and she glanced up to see her husband giving her a warm gaze. It didn't look right with his sharp makeup and dark hood, but those crystal blue eyes looked the same, looking at her with so much love as he called out and stroked his hand up and down her lower back.

"Everything's fine. Just stay cool...and don't use our real names."

"Right, sorry...but are you sure? El Stabador--" (y/n) bit her lip, trying not to let the place's stench throw her guts up, but her worry sorted that. The girl stood next to a particularly cruel-looking woman near some barstools, much further away than Miles across the room or Bose, who hovered near his teachers. Boy, she didn't look happy when Chapa accidentally nudged her elbow, thus slipping some of her drink.

"She's fine, darlin'. If any of the kids can handle themselves, it's her," Ray told her with a chuckle, noticing how the girl didn't even look bothered, giving the villainess such an intense glare that she looked away all sheepish.

He knew he wasn't supposed to be too affectionate in public like this; after all, no one knew Hawkfist and Doll Face were married, and he didn't want any connections made, just in case. But it was damn tricky pretending to not be in love with her, especially when she worried in that pretty little head of hers. It was in her nature, yet even he couldn't help but keep four eyes on each child in a hole such as this, peering over a buffet table as his wards chatted with the scum he fought to keep behind bars.

"True..." The woman nodded, pinching a tortilla chip from the table to nibble on as Ray and Bose exchanged a subtle glance to check in on each other.

They nodded slightly, not wanting to get caught knowing the other, but Villains Only Night had been a dud. No one was particularly interesting, and there was only so much face-painting the man could sit through.

"You guys look weird!" (y/n) hissed when they nodded slightly too much, looking too manic, even for a villain's gathering.

"Stop it!" Ray ordered Bose sharply, ignoring the weird kid by storming off with his beloved wife in tow. he was too stupid to cause too much damage, and knowing Bose, he'd blow their cover, so they sought refuge in another corner, passing Chapa on their way.

There were a few familiar faces here and there, some they'd faced in the past, but primarily the criminals they'd fought with Kid Danger when they last visited. None would be glad to learn that Captain Man and Miss Danger had brought their little protégés to the party, not when they clearly weren't invited, so they kept their eyes low and pretended to flirt like enamoured strangers.

"Hello? Hi! Can I have everyone's attention, please?" A loud yet pleasant voice yelled above the room's buzz, belonging to a smiling man standing on a stool. He looked nice enough, beaming at his villainous friends in a bloodstained white apron and cap, looking almost friendly, but (y/n) knew better.

He was The Butcher, and for all his niceties, he held some dark, disturbing secrets.

"For those of you that don't know, I am The Butcher, and I just want to give everybody a big thank you for attending Villains Only Night!" He announced to rapturous applause, although someone was a little trigger-happy. No sooner than he'd finished speaking, a fire-propelled axe whizzed past his face, narrowly missing his nose as a fresh-faced yet utterly psychotic girl giggled.

"Whoa! Simmer down there, Betty Blades!"

"I throw rocket blades!" She grinned like it was something to brag about, her sinister, crazy-eyed expression making (y/n) snuggle closer to Ray's side. That toothy snarl made her shiver...and they were supposed to be friends with these people.

"And we love you for it!"

"I don't..." she muttered under her breath, only heard by her husband as he squeezed her hip and brushed his lips briefly against her temple. Still, glancing around the room, she couldn't see anyone else disagreeing; the villains loved her little blade-throwing trick. Now that she could look properly, no one looked like a book thief. This would be challenging...

"But tonight is about our evil community coming together to say, hey! We're bad people, but we're still people," The Butcher added warmly, much to his counterparts' delight. They'd toast to that, cheering and clapping his words with reverent enthusiasm, and the incognito heroes mimicked them quickly, no matter how much they disagreed.

"And we must give a big thank you to our free evil face-painter!" Everyone glanced off to the side, where Schwoz stood by a tall chair in his dastardly disguise in a shady, quiet little corner.

He had a client in the seat, creating a masterpiece on his face without anyone suspecting his true identity; no one would know Captain Man's handy was under that chocolate bubble afro and eyepatch - even the kids failed to recognise him with that beard and those flared jeans, too. He was supposed to look like some painter, not that they'd ever heard of him, but he looked happy at the villains' applause.

"Now, what I want everyone to do is to talk to three villains you haven't talked to before because an evil stranger is just an evil friend you haven't met yet! So, go out there, be on your worst behaviour, and have fun! But not too much fun, okay?"

It made Ray sick, sneering at all the happy crooks around him. He spent all his adult life trying to lock these scumbags up, and here he was, frolicking amongst them as they made buddies over beers. He was almost glad when that Betty Blades girl nearly took off The Butcher's head again, slicing the air with another deadly, flying blade. He didn't care; if anything, she made his job easier, but of course, the morons laughed it off like it was nothing.

"Betty!..." Someone kill him. This was excruciating.

And it didn't get any easier. Following the crowd, the heroes and Danger Force split up to mingle amongst the gathering, making friends and glad-handing with people they'd typically punch in the face. It was difficult, but they managed by gritting their teeth and getting on with it, telling themselves they needed intell to find the book thief.

Ray stuck with his sweet girl, not wanting to leave her alone for a moment in such a dirty and dank place, so she accompanied him to meet several minor and emerging villains, most of whom weren't much of a threat. It was challenging for them for a different reason - no kissing. Apparently, it wasn't dignified or wicked, so, much to the man's disappointment, there was a strict hand-on-small-of-back policy in force, and he was lucky.

Soon, the couple found themselves talking to two familiar faces, who, according to their sticky name tags, were Lizard Boy and Lizard Girl, twins who thought the best aesthetic was to look like two reptilian freaks. They were peculiar characters dressed to look almost identical with their green, scaly skin, flickering tongues, catlike eyes, smooth heads, and odd mannerisms. They were creepy the last time, and (y/n) still hated shaking hands with the slimy individuals.

"No, no, I love the name Hawkfist..." Lizard Boy said awkwardly as he and his sister chatted with the new villains in town, flicking their tongues through their drinks. There was something familiar about them, but he pushed it to the back of his mind as they went through the usual formal introductions.

"'Preciate that..." Ray replied gruffly, hand never straying from Danger Force's waist as Chapa loitered near them. She was only there because they wanted to keep an eye on her. Still, she supposed watching Ray struggle with his disguise was entertainment enough, smirking as everyone they met gave wobbly smiles upon hearing the terrible name.

"But do hawks have...fists?" Lizard Girl asked, proving El Stabador's point as (y/n) cringed into her punch. That had to sting...

"Yes!"

"I told you no one would get it," Chapa told her teacher knowingly as he threw his hands up into the air in frustration, fed up with telling every asshole he came across that it made sense. His pretty girl tried To comfort him, bless her, hugging his arm a little too closely to be considered anything less than a girlfriend. Yet, the twins didn't notice, thinking it was sweet to see young, evil love, even if that Danger Force was more sweet than sour.

"I told you to shut up!" The hero yelled after the girl as she sauntered off to go and find her friends--or at least someone more interesting than a guy in a fucking bird suit. She didn't look back as she walked away, leaving (y/n) to babysit her husband and exchange small talk in an even more awkward situation, the Lizards looking anywhere but their new acquaintances.

"What about Nighthawk?" Lizard Boy suggested - anything to move the conversation on now that creepy little girl had left.

"Look, you don't think there's a day goes by that I don't regret naming myself Hawkfist?" Ray replied harshly, wishing he'd never bothered and stayed home, where he could be in bed, snuggled up with his precious wife if it wasn't for those goody-two-shoes kids and their big ideas about libraries. But the suggestions kept coming...

"Or maybe Hawk-ules?"

"Oooh, 'cause you're a hawk, but you're strong!" The reptilian twins said excitedly, flexing their arms as Ray pondered the suggestion. It sounded much more inventive and cool than he'd imagined, and although he'd introduced himself as Hawkfist all night, he changed his mind in the blink of an eye.

"Okay, love that...New name! I'm Hawkules now! New name! Hawkules! That's me..."

"Oh, doofus..." (y/n) sighed under her breath as she watched him scribble the new persona on a fresh sticky label in his chicken-scratch handwriting once anyone nearby had heard his announcement. Hearing his shrill screech as he slapped it onto his breast to replace the old one made her cringe even harder, flashing the villains a nervous smile to try and smooth things over.

"He does this a lot..."

"Oh, it's fine!" Lizard Girl smiled at the cute villainess, sensing she had great potential lurking behind that innocent schoolgirl-like smile. She was probably utterly heinous beneath that goody-goody exterior if her creepy costume was anything to go by.

"You two are so cute together! How long have you been dating?"

"I beg your pardon?" The question caught (y/n) off-guard, forcing her eyes to snap to the crinkled ones belonging to the other woman, who meant no harm.

"You and your boyfriend... He is your boyfriend, right? Or...are you single?" She and her brother were genuinely curious, but this was dangerous territory, straying too close to reality for comfort. Neither hero missed how the Lizard Boy looked Doll Face up and down, a slight smirk to his grin, and it didn't take a genius to work out what he was angling at, much to Ray's fury.

Still, she couldn't stand there and say nothing. That would make her look weird, yet it was precisely what she did, her face a picture of terror as the Lizard twins kept smiling.

"She's my girlfriend! Definitely my girlfriend. My girlfriend...right...babe?" Ray exclaimed gruffly as he thankfully stepped in to save his wife's embarrassment, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her close as he grinned. Another move from Captain Subtle, but it got that scaly bastard to back off, pecking her cheek for good measure, even though his pet name didn't seem right.

He never called her babe, not once, not ever. It was too simple and common, and his sweet girl was more than just some high school boy's babe. She was more than that, so he called her things infinitely more precious, but they couldn't know that. This was Doll Face, girlfriend of Hawkfist--or Hawkules--not (y/n) Manchester, his wife.

"Huh? I...I mean, sure, honey, we're boyfriend and girlfriend. We've been dating for ages," the woman agreed hastily once her brain processed the confusing sentence because he made it sound like he wasn't even talking to her. She hated that - babe - but her smile stayed bright and pleasant as she hugged her gory teddy bear.

"So cute! How did you meet? It's not easy to find love when you're wreaking havoc..."

"Oh, yeah, totally..." (y/n) nodded, tensing when her new friend placed a cold, slimy hand on her bare forearm. Still, she ignored it to focus on creating her false narrative - her and Hawkfist's love story in another life.

"We met...on the job."

"Oh, really?" Lizard Boy blinked in surprise, still feeling disappointed that the cutie was a taken girl. Still, he could deal with it, not wanting to get on the wrong side of the temperamental man before him. Yet, it was rare for villains to date so openly, given the dangers that came with the job, and it wasn't like their personas made them approachable people.

"Yes! I was robbing a bank and in strolls this lil' beauty. She put the money in the bag and stole my keys before driving away in my car...Took my heart with her." Ray sighed wistfully as he finished his elaborate recollection, so impressive and detailed that even (y/n) believed him a bit, snuggling into his side a little more as the villains melted and cooed.

But it wasn't like he had to pretend; his sweet girl made it so easy for him to love her that he didn't need to fake his adoration. It came straight from his heart, so he only needed a few white lies.

"Wow... that's so...romantic."

"Isn't it?" (y/n) exclaimed through gritted teeth, thinking her doofus sounded so effortlessly enamoured that it was almost stupid--almost unbelievable. Villains didn't get happily ever afters, at least not in her books, so she had to make it more realistic, smirking at her so-called boyfriend as she thickened the plot.

"Too bad Captain Man stopped me in my getaway car. I would've never gone back if that...little spandex bastard hadn't foiled my plans."

Ray's eyebrows twitched into a frown as she openly sullied his good name, but he had to remember this was all make-believe. It cast his mind back to the day they first met when he didn't make an excellent first impression, and he felt lucky to press his lips to hers in a much-needed kiss.

Meanwhile, the twins hissed and growled as a sour taste settled on their forked tongues at the mention of that man, having met him on one occasion during a brief ceasefire. He was so full of himself. That, and he made every villain's life miserable with Miss Danger constantly on his back - did those two ever take a day off?

"Captain Man! God, I hate him."

"Me too." They grimaced together, breaking the happy couple out of their smooch because Ray couldn't bear that. It was one thing to joke around, but he hated any slander of his beloved alter ego. Did those two even know how hard he worked with Miss Danger by his side?

"Same here. He's just so...dumb and silly. What a doofus, am I right?" (y/n) agreed hesitantly, not wanting to offend her husband. Still, she couldn't swear her allegiance to Captain Man out in the open. They'd tear her limb from limb, and even as she tried to insult him, a stubborn little grin fought its way onto her face, which she worked to try and make sinister.

"Yeah!"

"Hey, uh, I know we all hate Captain Man, but you guys read his book? It's a pretty great read..." Ray probed sneakily, much to his wife's exasperation. Of all the places to try and pitch that goddamn novel, this had to be the worst, among dozens of criminals who'd never look at anything affiliated with the hero, let alone read it.

"That dummy wrote a book?" The reptilian guy frowned before laughing cruelly, deepening Ray's hatred as he met his icy gaze. First, he flirted with his wife, and now, this? This asshole was crossing the line.

"Some say it's a real page-turner," (y/n) commented vaguely as she tried not to gush about the hero or condemn him to spare everyone's feelings. But you could practically cut the tension with a knife, making her shiver as she squeezed her bear tighter and peered at the Lizards from behind her braids.

"I can't remember the title..." the girl muttered, having never read the book since it was beneath her, but she remembered it from somewhere. And God, it was so sucky to everyone who sadly bought it from the bookstore...well, everyone except Ray.

"Uh, yeah, it's something like, uh...Man, I Feel Like A Hero, colon, One Captain Man's Journey Of Self-Discovery, parenthesis, A Captain Man-isfesto, asterisk, The True Story Of The Boy Who Became Captain Man, end parenthesis, exclamation point....or something like that."

"That's oddly specific," (y/n) retorted sarcastically as Ray finished his uncanny recollection of the hero's book - so damn detailed that he nailed it down to the punctuation. It was hardly a smooth move, and the heroine could see the surprise on the criminals' faces until they recovered and politely smiled. Luckily, they got away with the small outburst, but Ray didn't half push it.

"Oh, yeah! We read it in our evil book club. No one made it through chapter one!" Lizard Girl giggled with her brother as Ray watched with a flat, unimpressed expression, utterly disenchanted with their disrespectful mockery as his poor girl had to cringe and bear it.

"I think you mean Cap-ter one," he replied tersely, but that made them howl more.

"Oh, that's right! He called the chapters Cap-ters!" (y/n) subtly comforted her husband as the villains giggled to each other, exchanging insults about the hero, not knowing he was glaring at them like his eyes could burn holes in their heads. She squeezed and rubbed her hands against his bicep, hoping he'd see sense and let them have their fun; after all, they were the ones who'd probably put them in jail one day.

"That's so stupid!"

But Ray couldn't think like that, not when he'd spent too many nights writing that book, burning the candle at both ends when he should've been going to bed with her. He poured his blood, sweat, and tears into it and refused to let them smear all his hard work. So, rather childishly, he slapped the plastic cups out of their hands, glaring at them before his sweet girl's elbow.

"You're stupid! Caw-caw!" He hissed, to which the Lizards raised their fingers in an elegant, if weird, pose, and the couple turned away, dragging (y/n) 's bear behind her. He'd rather speak to anyone but them, heading toward Schwoz's face-painting corner, only the hero came face-to-face with someone he'd rather forget.

"Hey there!" Much to Ray's annoyance, a chubby, overly chummy man greeted them. He couldn't help but roll his eyes and groan upon seeing that thatch of grassy hair, leafy green waistcoat, and a t-shirt bursting at the seams since it was pulled tightly over his bulging tummy. The Lawn Ranger: some loser who matched with Captain Man on some superhero-villain dating app, only to be a total catfish.

He was the bane of Ray's existence, and even though he wouldn't recognise him as Hawkules, he didn't want to deal with him.

"Doofus, that was rude..." (y/n) noted as Ray tugged her to the bar, hearing Mika on her way past a small group of chattering villains. Like the good girl she was, she was probing about the book thief, casually asking around about anyone who might know their identity, but her doofus wasn't so keen.

"I don't like him, sweet girl..." he said with a huff, barely watching Mika's excellent work as he placed his hands on her hips and bent down to kiss her gently. She hummed against his lips appreciatively, enjoying his peppermint-bubblegum taste as she cupped his face and pulled her doofus closer.

No one around them offered any argument, knowing that a few more frisky miscreants were getting it on in the shadowy corners. Ray got her all to himself for a moment, hugging his beloved wife to his chest while his wandering hands explored her curves. He missed her after being so cruelly denied earlier, pecking her lips a few times before pulling away.

"He's annoying, granted..." the heroine muttered into his mouth, slightly breathless as they rubbed noses and panted. "But you're above being mean, Raymond."

"Don't you mean Hawkules, Doll Face?"

"You're my doofus, doofus. And I don't like being mean or evil. Feels...wrong." She pulled away, wrinkling her nose in mild disgust because hearing him call her that felt wrong.

She imagined the creepy villainess schwoz had invented for her was rude and malicious, leagues away from Miss Danger so no one would recognise her. And he wasn't the masked birdman he pretended to be; instead, he was the man who kissed her with such affection and reverence like she was a China doll, not some sinister plaything.

And Ray agreed, smiling as his touch circled her lower back, dangerously dipping to squeeze her butt through the flouncy material of her gothic dress if she didn't immediately bring it back to her waist. With warm and flushed cheeks, they kissed again until the man's lips bore her lipstick, standing them scarlet so (y/n) had to rub his mouth, laughing at the smudged mess, not that he cared.

"That's because you're too sweet for this villain shit," Ray told her firmly with a squeeze of her hips. "Don't change, darlin'. I love my wife exactly the way she is."

"I love you too..." (y/n) grinned, heart fluttering upon seeing his smile, and she sorely wanted to say, fuck everything, let's go home. What were they doing? Revealing their true, loving, married selves for all these villains to see; they could be at home right now, cuddled up in their pyjamas and matching rings, but no. They had to kiss out in the open, and who knows who was watching?

"Ugh, can you guys get a room?" A disgusted voice came from behind the couple, forcing them to break apart to see a disgruntled girl glaring at them - mainly Ray since he was the ringleader.

Chapa looked positively nauseated as she joined them, looking more terrifying than usual in her El Stabador costume, and witnessing their revolting love and PDA didn't help. Her lips were curled up in revulsion, arms crossed tightly across her chest, and her hip jutted out as she sneered, daring Ray to make one clever comment about how he should be able to love his wife openly--or some such bullshit. Seeing him eating (y/n) 's face made her want to puke, and she was poised to remind them of their mission.

"We were minding our own business until you came along..." Ray replied arrogantly, keeping his sweet girl in his embrace while returning Chapa's glare with aching only cold eyes.

"Look, I'm pretty sure you won't find the book thief at the back of her throat!" She hissed, heating her friend's face further as she thought about how far Ray went - perhaps too far to be considered decent in public. God, those hands made him like an octopus...touching everywhere.

"There's no harm in trying!" He bit back, creating a furious tirade of back-and-forth biting comments between them since Ray didn't feel accountable to anyone, nor did Chapa.

"We have a job to do!"

"She's my wife! I'll kiss her if I wa--"

"Both of you, shhhhhhh!" (y/n) suddenly hushed them, pressing a hand over Ray's mouth before shaking the girl's shoulder. They quickly quietened down, albeit with furrowed brows, as the heroine turned in her husband's arms and stared at something - or someone - in the crowd around them. And, for some reason, she wouldn't stop staring, craning her neck to peer over shoulders through gaps and over heads until she could hone in on a particular conversation.

"Huh? Sweet girl? I'm trying to---" Ray muttered, sad to lose her attention. He tried to spin her back around, convinced that whatever had enthralled her was nothing compared to his kisses. And whilst that might have been true, this was important enough to whack his chest and silence him again lightly.

"Shhhh! Listen!" She ordered him insistently, pointing weakly to the group where Mika was chatting with some lower-league criminals. None of them were fascinating, neither infamous nor notorious, so the heroes didn't recognise them, barely sparing them a glance until one began bragging about his exploits.

"...She was just wondering who stole all those books from The Swellview Library."

"Oh, yeah. That was me!" A pasty, nerdy-looking guy boasted, earning chuckles from his listeners, save for Mika. He didn't look like much, hardly the stuff of nightmares in his faux leather jacket, thin-framed glasses, and a pink and grey, splotchy scarf. If anything, he looked like a feather could knock him down, but Ray had seen all villains in his time. But it was rare to find one so cocky at such a young age.

"I mean, I didn't take all the books. I left Captain Man's stupid one behind!" The nerdy villain, or Steven to his friends, laughed, much to Ray's fury, as he and (y/n) watched silently from the sidelines. Chapa couldn't help but giggle a little - a death wish - still thinking it was hilarious, although the hero's glare soon sobered her up.

But this was dangerous for Mika, who found herself surrounded by crooks who wouldn't think twice about hurting her if they thought she'd betrayed them. She was more than an arm's length away from her teachers. Help might come too late, yet she'd asked too many questions...

"So, why'd you wanna know?"

"Oh, I just wanted to shake your hand! Because it's such a really good crime to steal books that are already free," the girl congratulated Steven through gritted teeth, squeezing his hand a little too tightly as she violently shook it - nearly knocking the glasses off his face. It took all her strength to smile sweetly, pretending his blatant disrespect and vandalism didn't bother her.

"I mean, how do you even read all those books?"

"Oh, I don't read any of them," Steven revealed with a mischievous grin, unwittingly torturing the books-smart girl even more. It was more than her job's worth to grin and bear it, although he had to be the biggest jerk she'd ever met.

"Oh, you don't even read them?! What do you do with all those free books you steal?" She asked hoarsely, peeking behind Steven to see Ray (y/n) and Chapa waiting with bated breath for a chance to step in. She was reassured that they were so close, but the woman fidgeted, counting at least three villains between her and the kid, including Betty and her rocket blades.

'Oh, I burn some..." the lowlife listed, each terrible misdeed another blow to the girl's heart. What a selfish bas--

"I shred some..." It was like sacrilege, ebbing away at Mika's resilience as she glared at Book Thievin' Steven. She couldn't help it, wanting to punch him or at least shout to the rooftops about how he was the lowest of the low, the scum of the earth, the dirt underneath her boots - literally the loser in school who peaked in fifth grade. But by some miracle, she held her, fists clenched and shoulders shaking as the guy rambled on, bragging about his exploits like they were something to be proud of.

"Super!"

"But most of the time, I just tear out the pages one by one and use them to wipe my--" Nope, she couldn't take it. That was the last straw. The one that broke the camel's back. The final fuse to Mika's temper. In a fit of fury, she lurched forward and super-screamed with all her might, creating a sonic wave strong enough to blast the speccy-four-eyed freak off his feet.

He flew across the room, legs kicking in the air, until he perched on a ledge above the main floor, winded, startled and pale as he stared at The Mangler. Or whoever she claimed to be because villain attacking villain? That was not on at Villains Only Night. Mika gulped as she realised her mistake, staring at Steven wide-eyed as he clutched his sore torso before locking eyes with her friends across the room. Not good...

"Face. I was gonna say my face!" He grumbled, frowning at the girl, but she had more significant problems as those who'd witnessed her superpower - every villain in the room - swarmed around her.

"It's ShoutOut!" The Lawn Ranger cried. Even he, with his mushroom-addled brain, could see through her disguise after pairing her painted face with that superpower, sending shockwaves of murmurs through the evil crowd.

"Who?"

"She's not a villain. She's in Danger Force!" Everything happened so quickly, and in a flash, Mika faced the expertly sharpened edge of The Butcher's meat cleaver. His expression twisted into a snarl as she tried to remain cool and composed, but a bead of sweat ran down her forehead when she gulped, knowing there was little use in denying it.

All the girl could do was stay calm and pray for her friends to save her, gaze flickering to them around the room to see their anxious, staunch faces. Well, some of them were helpful and brave; others, not so much.

"I'm out of here! Byeeeeee!" Schwoz whimpered, pulling a grapple gun from his belt and using it to leap to safety in the rafters. Panic really does expose a man's cowardice, but in fairness, there was little he could do - especially with that eyepatch. He wasn't a fighter nor a great negotiator, so it was best to return to the Man's Nest and leave the work to the professionals.

Still, the backup would've been nice, and Mika would rather have a friend to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with her as the small army of criminals and evildoers closed in. Brandishing their weapons, they stuck their ugly mugs close to hers, intimidating her from all sides as they wondered how best to deal with her. Her hands instinctively curled around her throat to protect it, nervously swallowing when she saw all the knives, blasters, and other devices designed to end a person's life in the blink of an eye.

After all, only an idiot would wander into The Beatin' Dungeon during their night...

"We have to do something--we have to do something now!" (y/n) worriedly whispered to Ray and Chapa. Thankfully, no one heard her panic as the villains bickered about how to make ShoutOut pay for her insolence. She fought her heart's desire to march over there and take down any asshole who dared to touch a hair on her precious baby's head. It was reckless and stupid, almost doomed to fail, but she refused to let anyone hurt the girl.

She'd never lost a kid on her watch, and she didn't intend to start now, a sentiment shared by Ray as his warm hands laid across her shoulders, squeezing gently as he tried to formulate a plan. He'd never show it, but losing one of them would devastate him, not that he'd let anything happen to Mika.

"Everything will be fine, darlin'. Look, she's okay..." the man reassured her kindly, watching as the villains manhandled the kid to stand facing the wall while deciding what to do with her. He despised how roughly they treated her, practically shoving her through the brickwork. Still, Mika didn't struggle, pressing her blazing cheek to the chilly wall as her captors argued.

"For now! I swear if Betty Blades starts to get stabby, one of those rocket blades is going right up her a--"

"Relax, (y/n/n)! We can't blow our cover," Chapa told her calmly, motioning for the heroine to stay low and blend in. They'd be no help if they were also suspected, but she got it. She'd rain hell in furious bolts of lightning should they hurt her friend.

"We just need to think! Besides, it's not like they know what to do with her..." She was right, turning to glance around the rowdy group as they threw psychotic and downright cruel ideas at The Butcher, none of which fitted the crime, but they were satisfying.

Boiling, garrotting, gouging, purging, disembowelling; all were beastly enough to make (y/n) wanna puke, but no one could make up their mind. Each criminal thought they were better than the other, nearly brawling amongst themselves until their mild-mannered yet menacing leader spoke up.

"Okay, okay! Now, we've all got lots of evil ideas about what to do with this member of Danger Force that snuck into Villains Only Night," The Butcher yelled above the racket as Miles and Bose tiptoed over to their teachers, looking to Ray and (y/n) for guidance. There wasn't much room for manoeuvring amongst this lot, and even The Lawn Ranger, with all his loserness, wanted in on the action. Sort of.

"Let's throw grass in her face!" He suggested after courteously raising his hand, only to receive a harmony of groans and eye-rolls. Maybe if she had hay fever, but...

"No, Lawn Ranger! We're not going to--"

"Let's throw grass on her shoulders!" He exclaimed, and even when they turned him down again with exasperated sighs, he didn't stop. The grass was his thing, which was what made him the crappiest villain in Swellview. "Let's throw grass on her head!"

"Okay, it can't be grass every time, buddy," Steven told him gently, not that it soothed the leafy man-baby. Even as he placed a friendly hand on his grass-covered arm, The Lawn Ranger pouted and shook him off, desperate to show his prowess.

"It comes from the Earth, man, it's good!"

"You know what they should do is get a bunch of battery acid and some steak knives..." Chapa proposed quietly as she, Bose, Miles, Ray, and (y/n) stood at the back of the crowd, pondering their next move as they bickered. That grassy freak bought them some time, but the girl couldn't help but think about what she'd do if she switched to the dark side.

"Stop!" Miles scolded her, nudging her ribs before he had to her anymore of her idea to melt his sister to death or whatever she had planned. "Honestly, we're not trying to come up with ways to hurt her!"

"We need to save her! What are we gonna do?!" Bose worriedly asked, seeing no way through the horde of angry villains. Yet, Ray, being his usual cocksure self, didn't shrink before a challenge. Oh no, he thrived under pressure, flashing them his signature smirk before his handsome features melted into what was quickly becoming recognisably Hawkfist's scowl.

"Relax. Hawkfist has a plan."

"Doofus, didn't you change your name to Hawkules? Amongst other things?" (y/n) frowned, barely keeping up with her husband's frequent name changes after she stopped kissing him and focused on Mika instead. He changed his character like a girl changes clothes, ending up with half a dozen sticky labels stuck to his vest. Some were scribbled out until he settled on his latest fancy.

"Oh, yeah. I changed it again. I'm now The Talon-ted Mr Hawkley." He grinned at her, thinking himself oh-so-clever as he dove past her and wrenched a soft, doughy snack from Miles' palm. He could've swiped one from the dessert table, but that wasn't cool for someone in a Birdman costume. So, he took the doughnut, shrieked and flapped off, but not before smooching (y/n) 's cheek loudly, much to the children's displeasure.

"Caw-caw!"

"I do not feel comfortable about this plan..." Miles sighed as they watched the hero boldly approach the squabbling villains without backup, forethought, or weapon. They had no idea what he'd planned--if he'd planned anything at all, but they couldn't make a scene, not when he shoved his way through the throng.

"Oh, Ra--I mean, Hawk-Whatever--don't be a doofus all your life!" B (y/n) called after him, tiptoeing closer to the other villains with the kids tentatively covering her back.

They couldn't help but get closer, wanting to see the man's big plan, although their better instincts told them to run and hide because it would be a disaster. What was the doughnut for?

"Quiet! Quiet!" The Butcher shouted, acting as crowd control, not that it worked. The villains kept yelling louder and louder, inching forward as they bayed for ShoutOut's blood - just a little drop for good measure, which they only saw as fair payment.

But Ray was fearless, elbowing the miscreants out of his way since he'd faced things far grander, far scarier, and far weirder than they were. He wouldn't call any of them truly great villains, hardly Doctor Minyak, The Toddler, or Frankini. Still, they had strength in their numbers, not that it bothered him. He had a pretty lady watching his every move. He didn't have room to slip up.

"All right, everybody--let's cut the chatter!" He bellowed, and surprisingly, what didn't work on a classroom of tweens beautifully commanded a warehouse full of creeps and crooks. The villains fell silent, vastly boosting his ego as he smirked and preened, making his wife roll her eyes.

"Nice..." he added huskily, unknowingly causing (y/n) to flutter in her tummy when a minuscule smile tweaked his lips. So damn handsome, even in that ridiculous outfit.

"All right, The Talon-ted Mr Hawkley will deal with this girl."

"Who's that, Hawkfist?" The Lizard Girl asked, mirroring the confused expressions around the rooms upon hearing the new name. He'd changed it so many times that no one could keep up with whoever he was now, still caught up on his first - and most memorable - nickname.

"Me!" Ray replied gruffly, utterly fed up with those two reptilian weirdos and how they always seemed to hang around him like an unwanted bad smell.

"I thought you were Hawkules--"

"Ugh, moving on! I'm gonna scratch this girl, and she will bleed!" The hero sneered, brandishing the sharp talons stitched into his gloves and prompting panic and terror in Mika as the villains cheered. The children glanced at (y/n) worriedly, concerned at the mention of blood. But she couldn't help them, looking just as antsy at her husband's risky plan as everyone else while the girl shivered.

"Okay, ShoutOut. Get ready to feel my talon punch!"

"Shouldn't your talons be on your feet?" The Lizard Girl butted in again, being pedantic when Ray was trying to be cool. He turned to her with a vicious snarl, rolling his eyes at every little interruption.

"Oh my God, whatever! Just let me do this--shut up! Caw-caw!" With no more rude interruptions, he spun and gently raked his fingers down Mika's back.

It felt more like a massage than a relentless attack, nails slightly digging into her skin. Still, not to the point of pain, but to any onlooker, it appeared like he was cruelly clawing at her body. The villains cheered and egged him on, and Mika quickly followed Ray's lead, pretending he was hurting her as he growled and moved his talons faster.

"Oh, no! I'm being scratched, yeah!"

"Get her, Hawkules!" The Lawn Ranger shouted, much to Ray's displeasure, as he briefly paused his so-called assault to give him an icy look. God, he hated that guy.

"That's three names ago. Try to keep up!" He snarled before returning to his work, ignorant of the loser's attempt at an apology. Still, Mika played her role very well, faking her cries of pain and pretending to curl into the wall to shield herself as much as possible. It was brutal to watch, and the criminals loved it, roaring and applauding Hawk-guy's work, even as Danger Force loitered on the sidelines.

"I'm definitely bleeding!" She gasped as Ray snuck his stolen doughnut under his jacket's wing, squishing the sweet pastry over her costume until the red jelly filling was smeared across her back. He took inspiration from Bose's stupidity, and when she collapsed from the agony, it really looked like he'd torn her skin to ribbons - scarlet dribbles everywhere.

"Oh, but I am so very defeated!" The girl remarked flatly as she weakly lay on the floor with Hawkfist looming over her. His fingers were covered in jelly, all sticky and dripping in a morbid sight, which was a bit confusing for the throngs of evildoers around them. No matter how much their feathered friend hyped up his dirty hands and defeated foe, they'd never known one of Captain Man's protégés to go down so quickly.

Still, if he could make a swift exit, no one need know any different...

"Okay, then, I'm just gonna take her back to my lair and feed her to my baby birds," Ray growled to the villains, bending down to grab Mika and drag her home. The kids didn't want to know who the baby birds were, but they waited patiently, eager to leave, when Betty Blades piped up, a suspicious snarl on her lips.

"Wait a second!"

"What?" Ray asked nervously, having no choice but to let Mika lay there as the psychotic brunette marched up to him and swiped her bony finger through the red mess coating his fingers.

Everyone grimaced when she brought the apparent blood to her lips. Still, Betty frowned when the strangely sweet and oddly delicious flavour hit her tongue. It wasn't metallic or gross but tart and sugary, crinkling her eyebrows at the deception.

"It tastes sweet..." she remarked, much to her comrades' confusion.

"Of course it does! The taste of victory is always sweet!" The hero remarked with a voice full of confidence, acting as if her discovery didn't phase him at all. He played it off well, but one glance at his sweet girl through the crowd and (y/n) saw the panic behind his eyes, knowing that his big plan was slowly unravelling.

"Yeah, but that's just jelly."

"What?" He scoffed, acting innocent and dumb as the villains around them laughed slightly, thinking it was some big prank. But Betty narrowed her eyes at him, sensing something was wrong with that perfect smile - perhaps too perfect for a supervillain.

"Raspberry, if I'm not mistaken."

"The Talon-ted Mr Hawkley must've used that doughnut!" The Butcher pointed out with a sinister smirk, causing everyone to gasp as they saw the squashed, empty pastry on the floor next to ShoutOut's limp body. They glared at Ray, not knowing whether to deem him an intruder or a phoney. Still, either way, the man was stuck between a rock and a hard place - very much in no position to convince them otherwise.

"No, I didn't!"

"But you did, though. Right before you fake-scratched her."

"And un-stuck her from the wall," The Lizard Twins hissed, folding their arms coldly as Ray struggled to think of a witty, believable comeback--and his sidekicks were no help. They couldn't get to him even if they wanted to, and honestly, a twinge of fear settled into his gut.

"Are you even a real villain, bro?" Some guy in the crowd asked, which was a bit rich, given that Ray didn't even recognise him. He could say the same in return, even if it was suicidal.

"What does this say? Huh?" He replied curtly, pointing to one of the many sticky labels on his chest. Yet, because he didn't look where he was pointing and had so many name changes, he accidentally chose an old one that didn't last very long since it was a bit...lame.

"I have no idea."

"You kept scratching out your villain names and giving yourself new ones."

"Does one of them say, Hawklate Milk?" Betty Blades asked with a slight, mocking smirk, and the man quickly covered the unfortunate label, licking his finger and rubbing it to try and remove the ink.

"Maybe..."

"That's dumber than Captain Man's book!" The same nobody from earlier remarked, and that was his last straw. Ray couldn't handle any slander toward his books if Mika couldn't cope with pointless crimes. It infuriated him more than their constant interruptions or snarky comments, making him stamp his foot like a child and jerk his arms. He'd show them who the losers were, aching for genuine respect since that stupid bird suit obviously didn't command any.

"All right--that's it! Where's my damn gum?" He shouted in annoyance as he plodded off around a corner, patting down his pockets to find where he'd carefully hidden his gum. They all brought some, just in case, even if it was risky in case one of the villains found them, and (y/n) didn't miss a beat when she saw her doofus disappear into the shadows.

Placing a hand over her well-hidden tube, feeling it through the lace of her dress, she turned to Chapa. While her husband was more than capable of kicking dozens of villains' butts, she didn't fancy him taking on every asshole The Beatin' Dungeon had to offer, so, lowering her voice, she whispered to the girl as she tiptoed away.

"Keep them busy. We'll be right back..."

"What?! What are we supposed to do?!" Chapa whispered harshly, nervously glancing around, praying no one heard their snappy conversation. Luckily, the delinquents in the room were too distracted to truly pay attention, allowing the heroine to weave her way to wherever Ray disappeared cautiously.

But the kids didn't want her to leave, suddenly feeling much smaller and weaker without the mighty Miss Danger. Yet, she didn't stop, throwing them a bright smile as she slipped past some pink-haired weirdo.

"Just get Mika to safety! We'll handle the rest!" (y/n) grinned, not looking back as she disappeared into the crowd, leaving Bose clueless and Miles and Chapa very disgruntled.

"Oh, you make it sound so easy!" Ignoring them, she crept past the oblivious villains toward Ray's hiding place, hoping they wouldn't do anything too reckless while transforming. As she slipped into the nook, she could hear The Butcher bellowing more incoherent orders. Still, she didn't bother deciphering them when she spotted a very angry doofus muttering himself, patting down his tunic with too much aggression.

"Doofus?"

"Sweet girl..." The man turned around upon hearing those dulcet tones, the tension and fury melting from his body when he saw his beloved wife standing there. Her face was so pure and innocent, so it wasn't his fault when a sudden urge to sweep her into a spontaneous kiss swept over him.

He gathered her in his arms, holding her shoulders tightly as (y/n) gasped, allowing his tongue to slip into her mouth in what was interrupted by that sparky brat before. A sigh mingled between them as her arms slid around his neck, pulling their navels together until every inch of their bodies touched. It was hot and passionate and undoubtedly the wrong time and wrong place, but neither cared, forgetting their mission, friends in a second of love and lust.

But it didn't last. As much as her head was spinning, her heart was burning, and her tummy was fluttering, (y/n) snapped to her senses when she felt his fingertips creeping under her skirt - a little too eager to say they weren't at home. There were dozens of villains just a few feet away - his composure and boldness surprised her.

She abruptly pulled away from her lover at the peak of his assault, grasping the wrist hiding between her thighs and staring up at him with darkened eyes and swollen lips. Had it really been that long since they had a moment to themselves?

"What's taking you so long?!" She panted before suddenly realising how tightly she gripped his arm and jacket. Ray smirked at her dishevelled state, having quietly known that his sweet girl would follow when he walked off, although he hadn't planned on losing control like that. It was her fault for being too damn hot.

"I can't find my gum!" Ray replied smoothly, holding her waist when she released his wandering hand. It was true; he'd been trying to find the damn thing when she walked in, and he swore that it was gone--vanished--stolen--God knows what. He couldn't find it; only (y/n) knew better.

"You mean this gum?" She cocked an eyebrow as she waggled a glowing tube under his nose - the same gum she'd felt when her hand slipped down to his butt when they were kissing. He'd shoved it deep in his back pocket, which wasn't particularly safe, making him smile sheepishly as he took it with red cheeks.

"Oh, yeah..." The hero nodded, taking the glowing gum as she shook her head and smiled. Such a doofus...but even if he was embarrassed, he couldn't help the rush of affection in his chest when she tenderly kissed his neck to hide her amused expression.

"Have I told you how beautiful you look today?"

"Several times."

"Well, it's true," Ray remarked, grabbing her chin and tilting it up so he could see her eyes when she bashfully looked down with hot ears.

He bent down again, capturing her lips much more gently this time, moving slowly until her mouth opened, allowing his tongue to slip in again. Seconds or hours passed - neither knew how long - until they were breathless and grinning like idiots, feeling like their dark yet cosy corner had gone from frigid to unbearably scorching. God knows what was happening in the main room, a thought that slipped through (y/n) 's mind as her beloved doofus grasped and squished her ass in his large palm.

"Ray?" She asked quietly, weak and throaty as their lips brushed together again before he found her neck, forcing her head to tilt back. What was her point again? Everything went out of her mind as he suckled and nipped on her skin, pushing his face closer when he hummed against her throat.

"Hmmm?"

"Those villains insulted your book. Aren't you gonna punch them?" His lips froze over a fleeting mark, not even bothering to darken it into staying for a few more seconds.

Suddenly, Ray remembered his purpose, hands momentarily squeezing her flesh a little too hard as his muscles remembered their strength, and his brain recalled why he was so fucking mad in the first place. Right before this temptress walked in, he was hell-bent on revenge... And he still wanted to show those losers that he was superior.

"God, yes..." the man growled, pulling away to stare darkly into her pretty eyes, smirking in satisfaction when she shuddered at the sight of him. There she went again, seducing him without even realising it.

"One more kiss, though..." (y/n) was helpless to stop him, not that she wanted to.

She pulled him in by his collar until their noses brushed under that stupid hood of his, drinking down his taste as he rocked against her body. Everything would make later that night so much sweeter, going deeper and deeper until their lungs burned and begged for mercy, although Ray swore he could survive on her honey-like taste alone.

"Okay...come on. You've had your fun," the heroine told him firmly, physically having to rip herself away from his unbearably hot body; otherwise, she would've let him have his way right there in the corridor. Pressing his gum tube into his palm, she fumbled to bring hers out of the only place she could've stored in a dress with no pockets - the built-in bra.

"Don't even..." she told her husband sternly as her fingers dipped past the neck and pulled the warm glass cylinder out from between her boob. She wasn't stupid, knowing that Ray's eyes were glued to her cleavage, aching like a virgin teenager for even the tiniest glimpse of her bare flesh - like he hadn't seen it all before.

"Fun? Well, that was mildly entertaining, darlin', but I'll show you a good time when we get home," he rumbled gruffly, popping a gumball with a flushed face when she caught him staring. It wasn't his fault; she was just too hot, and he was such a her man, utterly in love with all of her features, some finer than others.

"Don't you always?" The woman threw the flirtatious comment over her shoulder with the candy she popped into her mouth, chewing slowly as they laughed. A warm hand took hers as Ray mimicked her movement, turning the gum all sticky and squishy before they blew their bubbles and transformed into their costumes.

It felt good to be Captain Man and Miss Danger again, grinning and checking each other out since their uniforms were infinitely better-looking than those angsty disguises. She was beautiful, and he was handsome, looking like the perfect pair as he brushed her hair behind her ear and pecked her lips one last time.

"God, I love you..."

"I know..." And (y/n) grinned the whole way out of the room.

Of course, they couldn't sneak out the way they'd come in; any observant villain would put two and two together and surmise that Hawkfist was Captain Man, etcetera. So, they took the long way, routing around the back of the warehouse until they could approach from the other side of the room. They had the element of surprise on their side, Ray going first with his sweet girl hot on his heels as the sound of angry voices grew louder.

It was a tremendous racket like a thunderstorm in a tin can, and when the heroes peeked out from the door they tiptoed through, they could see Chapa and Bose looming over The Butcher. He lay on the floor, unconscious, after the girl was forced to defend herself with her superpower because Bose couldn't keep his mouth shut. Miles and Mika were nowhere to be seen - hopefully safely back at the Man's Nest like the heroine instructed.

"It's Volt!" The Lizard Girl hissed, pointing directly at Chapa as she took an uncharacteristically timid step back. She didn't know what to do now that she'd revealed her true identity, feeling like a million eyes were staring back at her and Bose - but they weren't alone.

"All right, you jerks!" Ray chose his moment wisely, jumping into action with his beloved wife before anyone could harm a single hair on his sidekicks' heads. He stormed over to the group of baffled villains, all of whom were utterly stunned to see the snarling hero in their lair - with Miss Danger looking equally pissed.

"Anyone wanna make fun of my book now?" They were the wrong people to ask, boldly throwing insults about his sloppy plotline, poor spelling, and awful pacing as (y/n) quickly checked over the children, cupping their cheeks before pushing them behind her back.

They'd done beautifully, but now it was time to let her and Ray fight, and boy, he was mad about the brazen mockery of his treasured novel. Glancing at each other, the couple rolled their eyes and sighed, knowing that some things never changed, but at least they could get revenge for a genuinely terrible evening.

"I hate you all," Ray sighed as some randomer pressed play on the stereo system, anticipating an epic brawl.

The villains felt pretty confident, sizing up the admittedly bulky hero and his pretty, if puny, wife, and decided they were no match for them. They were hideously outnumbered, even if they cracked their knuckles and stretched their backs, calmly waiting for the oncoming storm--well, they could have it. Anything to avenge their fallen comrade and find justice for invading their territory.

"Get 'em!" Betty Blades screeched, and that was when all hell broke loose.

A tall man flung himself at Ray first, easily a couple of inches taller than the hero. Still, he repelled him quickly with a swift punch across the jaw before elbowing him in the throat. As he fell to the floor, a blonde, cruel-looking woman snuck up on the hero with all the agility and feline wickedness of a cat, moving to pounce and dig her claws into him if it wasn't for (y/n) anticipating her move.

She saw the attack in her mind, moving perfectly in time as her eyes shimmered like pearls, allowing her to grab the bitch by her shoulders before she could lay a hand on her doofus. Curling an arm around her neck, she held her still long enough for Ray to boot her in the stomach, a pained groan leaving the villainess as she crumpled to the floor, clutching her abdomen.

Another swathe of villains approached, teaming up three against two as the couple backed up toward the bar until their elbows brushed, trying to keep all eyes on their foes. Suddenly, a thick, rusty, iron chain wrapped around Ray's neck from behind, causing (y/n) to gasp and break focus for a split second to glance upwards and see an evil man sneering at the struggling hero from a concrete ledge.

"Captain Man!" She cried, feeling her heart lurch when her husband scrambled for oxygen, even though she knew he'd be fine. That's when the three cornering them made them move, storming forward while the man was weak.

They targeted Miss Danger, who recognised one as the guy who fought Henry once - Kyle or something - so she knew he meant business. She blocked one of his punches, holding his fist in her hand before uppercutting his chin with the other, sending him stumbling backwards. But she couldn't take on three at once, not when the men had arms as thick as her thighs and infinite strength. Hence, as she dodged a few more blows from a guy in a red jacket, Ray ignored the stinging agony around his throat and kicked out at anyone who dared lay a finger on her.

He snarled at those who hurt her, growling lowly at how they pathetically tried to keep him from her side. Finding a break in the waves of attackers, he lurched forward, pulling the villain above him down against the concrete so his face was in range for a damn good pummeling. A swift punch to the nose rendered him out like a light, loosening his grip on the chain so the hero could steal it and breathe freely again.

"You okay, sweet girl?" Ray asked breathlessly, catching her in a brief, free moment as chaos reigned around them. Bose was unconscious for some reason, and Chapa was terrorising Betty Blades with her lightning, but still, the doofus looked at her like all was right in the world. And if she was okay, then everything was.

"Never better--doofus!" The woman grunted, her smiling vanishing when the guy who swung the first punch returned for round two. This time, he aimed for her, throwing his body weight into the blow as (y/n) ducked, giving her husband space to block his arms with brute raw strength.

Before they knew it, the blonde was backing, stunning (y/n) with some fancy flips as she cartwheeled and twisted her way across the floor--what was wrong with walking? She didn't have time to help Ray as he took a swipe to the cheek, slumping winded against a barrel before taking on Kyle one-on-one.

For someone so high and mighty, he went down with a single punch as Miss Danger cat-slapped the woman with the back of her hand, smirking satisfactorily when she sharply kicked her shin with the metal toe of her heeled boot. That was for trying to hurt her husband. In the blink of an eye, the couple found themselves back-to-back in a circle of villains, taking on whoever stepped into the ring. Others watched from the sidelines, egging their friends on.

One guy in a red jacket swung at (y/n), only to receive a straight left to the nose as Ray punched Kyle in the gut, wondering why Henry had struggled so much with him before. A swift kick in the face and he flew into the buffet table, sending cheese puffs and plastic cups everywhere as he cried for his mama.

Meanwhile, his pretty girl smirked at the catty lady, expertly ducking and weaving every time she tried to claw out her eyes, predicting every swipe with seconds to spare until she caught her arm on the final blow. It was too easy to shove her off her balance, watching with a giggle as the acrobatic woman fell face-first into a cardboard box with her legs kicking in the air.

But there was no time to get cocky; out of nowhere, some lunatic charged at Ray, rugby-tackling him with his arms locked around the hero's waist as they tumbled through a wooden door, making even the most hardened, desensitised villains wince. Some fled for their lives, too weak or cowardly to take on the fearless crimefighters, and (y/n) noticed how The Lizard Twins were among the fleeing monsters. Whilst she was sad to miss the chance to fight them, she scoffed in amusement - some bad guys they were.

Some were smarter than others, though, knowing when to leave a party, and Book Thievin' Steven was no exception. He knew when he was beaten, seeing how the heroes effortlessly tipped the scales until the crowd thinned, leaving only the roughest, toughest of villains fighting. And he was neither of those things, more like a delicate flower than a bloodthirsty fighter, so he turned to run...only to run into Volt's arms.

"Oh, no!" She smirked, and with Bose's help, they twisted his hands behind his back, taking him as their prisoner since he was the thief they'd come to apprehend. He didn't put up much of a fight, whining like a little bitch as the children meanly slapped his wrists in handcuffs, barking orders to be silent or else.

He should've counted himself lucky, given that the people he'd been bragging to all night had to face Captain Man and Miss Danger. The couple showed no mercy; when Ray tossed his attacker through the remaining splinters of the door, (y/n) was there to meet him with her flying fist.

There were barely any villains left standing, only the stubborn with wobbly legs and bruised faces still fighting. When one got to his feet, all the hero had to breeze past him and flick him on the nose to knock him out, more intent on reaching his sweet girl than bothering with a loser who didn't know when to give up.

"Boo!" He grinned when he saw her sneak up on The Lawn Ranger, shouting into his ear so the leafy weirdo practically jumped out of his skin when he realised how close the heroine was. He'd spent the entire fight cowering behind the bar, all too happy to let someone else be his shield, but now he was out of options - except one.

"MOMMY, COME HELP ME!" The so-called criminal screeched, glancing from the woman with her hands on her hips to her hulking husband, who threateningly flexed his biceps as he stomped toward him.

Ray wasn't interested in The Lawn Ranger, not even sparing him a glance as he ran for the exit with a wet patch on the front of his pants. No, he wanted the asshole on the kedge, who, despite all his friends falling like dominoes, remained on the high ground, knowing he had the advantage over the heroes if he stayed there.

While (y/n) picked off the stragglers on the floor, Ray bunny-hopped over the bar, risking everything and clambering up to where the villain waited with bared teeth. Hunched over with a thick metal pipe in his grip as a makeshift weapon, the man held his nerve until he had the fearsome Captain Man towering over him, and all he had to do was bellow to make the guy pee himself.

Shrieking like a terrified child, the metal pipe clattered on the floor concrete as the villain took the intelligent option and dove through a boarded-up window. He'd rather have a broken arm than any of the wounds the hero would inflict, leaving Ray gloating and smiling victoriously until he turned around to grin at his beloved wife. And what he saw made his vision fade to red.

In the time Ray had climbed up to the rafters, (y/n) had battled a handful of weakened villains. None were exceptionally challenging, running away when they knew they were beaten or collapsing when she swiftly overpowered them. But one guy was annoyingly tough--too stubborn to go down without a fight.

She'd punched him. That didn't work. She'd kicked him. He didn't even flinch. She even tried kneeing him in the groin, but apparently, he had balls of steel. He had, too; only those with some severe nerve had the guts to wrap their hairy hands around Miss Danger's throat. It all happened quickly; one minute, she held her own, blocking all of his rapid jabs, and the next, one hand came out of nowhere. It squeezed her airways too tightly to be comfortable.

She gasped, but no sound came out, nails scratching at his wrist as her tummy fizzled and popped with nerves, eyes sliding in her doofus' direction. Fighting for air, she kicked out at the man, weakly tapping his shins as her toes brushed the ground, threatening to lift her off her feet entirely when Ray finally noticed.

If there was one line a villain shouldn't cross, it was this one; they could hurt him all they wanted, but Miss Danger? She was off limits, so this asshole had to pay.

With his jaw clenched and teeth gnashing, Ray glanced around at his surroundings, knowing he had to get down there--and fast. He didn't want to risk the bastard spotting him, so he quickly set his sights on a chain by his elbow, unhooking it from a post before giving it a few tugs to check its strength.

As (y/n)'s eyes rolled back, he took his chance, swinging like Tarzan until his stretched leg collided with the guy's face. His body contorted and flipped from the sheer impact, separating him from the gasping heroine as he crumpled at her feet, setting her free. Her fingers rubbed at her sore throat, blinking back tears as Ray gracefully landed and glared at the knocked-out man, secretly wishing no one was looking so he could rain down a little more pain.

"Keep your dirty hands off my wife..." he snarled to deaf ears, panting as heavily as (y/n) as he stomped and loomed over the limp body. One second, he was all rage and testosterone, making the onlooking woman gulp as he stood there with his chest heaving and fists clenched. But the next, he turned to her, all doe-eyed and smiling, lightly stepping over and taking her into his arms like she was made of glass.

"Sweet girl, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Captain. Thank you for saving me..." (y/n) replied breathlessly, placing her palms against his chest as she looked up at him through her eyelashes, smiling sweetly. His hands tightened on her waist, humming throatily as he kissed her lips, slightly chapped from the fight, but he didn't mind.

"You can thank me later tonight," he whispered in her ear, lightly nibbling her earlobe as she breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed into his embrace, leaning her forehead on his shoulder.

As if by magic, his hands glided over her back, soothing any soreness or ache from the battle, turning her into putty until she'd do anything he said, practically purring as he nuzzled her hair. She was safe; that was all Ray could think of, letting his anger melt away because he couldn't feel anything but love when he held her, swearing he'd found heaven when--

"Captain Man! Miss Danger! We got him."

"We got the book thief!" Two chirpy voices interrupted their bliss just when Ray was about to taste that sweet, sweet honey again. Annoyingly, (y/n) pulled away with warm cheeks, shy to see Chapa and Bose standing across the room, watching every moment as they held Book Thievin' Steven by his arms, preventing him from escaping. Those little...it was like they didn't want him to love his wife.

"Guys! Great job!" The heroine praised them, clapping her hands and nudging her doofus to at least smile as she noticed his irritated grimace from the corner of her eye. He was such a grumpy pants, moody because he didn't get a kissy--as if she wouldn't smother him with them when they got home.

But Ray begrudgingly conceded, offering the beaming kids a brief, proud smile as Steven groaned, wishing he was anywhere but the same room as the lovey-dovey couple. While Miss Danger was hot, it made him want to puke when he saw her...canoodling with Captain Man, turning that old stickler into a lovesick puppy - a bigger moron than ever. Of all the people to capture him, it had to be them - the gratingly in-love it-couple of the city.

"Now, let's see who he really is!" Bose exclaimed before roughly grabbing the criminal's chin, yanking and tugging his skin like his skin would peel away like a mask, revealing another man underneath. But this wasn't some slapstick cartoon, making Steven wince and yelp as the boy pinched his cheeks, much to his friends' amusement.

"Ahh! OW! My face!"

"BrainStorm, buddy...there's no mask," Ray told him gently, an arm wrapped around his wife's waist as she giggled. She couldn't say the thief didn't deserve it.

"Okay, so, what do we do with him?" The boy asked innocently, releasing Steven's cheeks with a disappointed pout as the man struggled against their hold. Still, the question made everyone stop and think, imagining plenty of suitable punishments, some stronger than others. Of course, Chapa and her vividly diseased imagination came up with the best ones.

"I have ideas..." She grinned at her teachers, waggling her eyebrows suggestively as her captive gulped. He wasn't stupid; he knew Volt was the least reasonable of the younglings Captain Man had recently taken under his wing. But surely, they wouldn't let him suffer, would they?

Would they?

Oh, they would.

Out of everything Steven had imagined for their cruel torture, this had to be the worst. He could've been hung, drawn, and quartered, but Miss Danger didn't like the mess. They could've ripped out his fingernails and mailed them to his mother, but ShoutOut thought that was too morbid. They could've banished him to the North Pole, but Volt said that was too babyish.

They bounced ideas around like a beach ball until the fiery-tempered girl suggested something utterly brilliant--borderline evil for those goody-goody lot. He begged them not to do it, pleading, praying, screaming he'd do anything else. They could brandish him a thief for all to see, and he swore never to steal again on pain of death. But no, his sobs fell on deaf ears.

Book Thievin' Steven needed to be taught a good, hard lesson, Chapa told her friends as she fastened a thick, corded restraint around his chest, having already bound his hands behind his back. After fleeing The Beatin' Dungeon, Danger Force, Miss Danger, and Captain Man brought the man back to the Man's Nest, sitting him on a chair in the middle of the room as the wicked girl cooked up their revenge.

It was simple, really; she'd had Schwoz prepare most of it, setting up a TV near the villain as it played a cosy recording of a crackling log fire since they didn't have one of their own. Across from that, Ray was all tucked up and relaxing in a ratty, worn armchair. It looked disgusting but was deliciously comfortable with its aged cushions and leather upholstery. He wasn't allowed to change out of his uniform, sitting by Steven and the fake fire with the pièce de résistance in his hand, waiting for the torture to commence.

"Please, don't..." Steven sniffled as Volt ensured his bonds were pulled tight and secure, ignoring the tears in his eyes as Ray flicked through a copy of Man! I Feel Like A Hero!

Oh, yeah. She went there. If there was one thing villains hated, it was Ray's book - the thing that put fear in their hearts more than death, destruction, or torture. This was worse than hell but a win-win situation for the hero. He waited patiently for his sweet girl to appear after she'd slipped away to change into something more comfortable, eager to snuggle up with him as he read to her like they did in bed every night.

That was where Chapa's secret weapon hid.

"I'll do anything!"

"Settle down, buddy. You're gonna be here for thirty-two Cap-ters, an epilogue, an alt ending, and a whole section at the end where I teach you whole to draw a cartoon version of me," Ray told Steven with an excited grin, having turned to page one. There was a lot more to get through, striking terror in the thief's chest as he turned to Chapa in one last bid for mercy - he couldn't bear the thought of listening to the hero droning on and on and on...

"No, no, no, no, please! Please! Please!" He sobbed, not that the girl cared. Rolling her eyes, she turned her back on him, smiling briefly at (y/n) as she entered the room in her pyjamas before returning to where the other kids sat at the couch table.

"Steven, my guy, there's no use in trying. Just sit there and take it like man," the woman advised him as she sauntered up to her doofus, looking utterly adorable in her silky pee-jays, save for the mask still stuck to her face. It was Miss Danger at the end of her day, looping around the armchair to smile at her husband, who finally tore his eyes away from his beloved book to see something far more precious.

"Hey, doofus...did I miss anything?"

"Nope, you're just in time, sweet girl, and you're even wearing my favourite shorts..." Ray cooed in a sickeningly sweet voice, giving her a knowing look before uncrossing his legs to welcome her into his embrace, tapping his thigh with his free hand. After such a long day, he wanted his wife as close as possible, especially when her legs went on and on and on for days in those booty shorts.

"Why don't you take a seat right here?"

"Whatever you want, sweetheart," she giggled, eagerly placing herself on his knee and leaning back into his chest. Her legs draped over the arm of the chair as her hand hovered behind his head to play with the tufts of his hair, wriggling in his embrace to get comfy.

There was no better spot in The Nest, in her opinion, tucking her face into the crook of his neck and placing a kiss there as Ray grinned, finally at peace now that he had her where he wanted. He put the book between them, resting it in her lap as he found his place again, murmuring some incoherent sweet nothings as Steven looked on in horror.

Aw, hell, no, he couldn't watch this.

"First! The introduction, written by me," Ray gloated, turning his chin slightly to find his wife's lips as she rolled her eyes. She knew this would be just one big boast battle for him, already knowing the life and secrets of the mighty hero, but she didn't mind. Nowadays, it was a luxury to spend so much quiet time with him, humming appreciatively against his lips to create a disgustingly unmistakable smacking sound.

"NOOOOOO! You can't expect me to sit here with these two...lovebirds! I'm gonna throw up!" Steven wailed, screwing up his face when he saw the couple locking lips--practically eating each other's faces. Where was Captain Man putting his hands?! They slid from her ribs to her waist and even curled around to cup her butt, pulling Miss Danger further onto his lap as he...groaned. Oh, God...

"Hot chocolate just tastes better after you catch a bad guy," Chapa sighed as she ignored the wails across the room.

The book was bad enough, but the real torture lay in forcing Steven to endure the couple's handsy, undying love and affection. They lived through it every day, seeing kisses, pinches, pats, and advances that scared their poor, pure minds. If they had to see it, so did he - a just punishment for such a heinous crime, and everybody won except for Steven.

"Everything does," Bose agreed, sipping his rich, sweet drink before taking a bit bite of the styrofoam cup. It was a wonder that he was still alive, making his friends wince in shame and confusion as he happily munched on the bland, chewy plastic like it was tasty - did he think it was food?

"Honey, don't..."

"Just let him..." Chapa sighed as Mika tried to warn the boy otherwise. Still, she knew it was useless - practically survival of the fittest by now. So, she reached for the thermos pitcher in the middle of the table as Miles eyed it hungrily since he apparently wasn't allowed any for the most trivial reasons.

"Can I get a little hot chocolate?" He asked the girl politely, only to receive a curt look as she stood up and took the thermos away.

"Did you catch a bad guy?"

"I saved ShoutOut," he replied as Mika smiled brightly, thinking that such a noble deed deserved a reward, given that it was arguably the other half of a hero's job. Stop a bad guy and save someone - wasn't that the job description?

"So, you caught a good guy?" Chapa hummed pedantically, toying with her friend for the sake of being difficult - mainly because the smoochy-smoochy sounds from that armchair were grating her nerves.

"Okay, that's not fair," Mika told her, acting as the voice of reason like always, but Chapa didn't listen. She merely sipped her hot chocolate and stiffened her upper lip, wanting the sweet, chocolatey goodness all to herself after nearly getting hounded by a group of vicious villains.

"Tastes pretty fair to me..." she sniffed, causing her friends to argue about how mean she could be sometimes.

(y/n) had said it once, but they'd say it again; if she wanted to have friends, she needed to be friendly, although none of it got through to her. The rowdy conversation soon broke the tranquillity of the Man's Nest, forcing the happy couple by the fire to stop kissing - even the notion - and sigh. How were they meant to subtly tease each other--or torture Steven if they couldn't hear themselves think?

"Hey, let's cut the chatter back there!" Ray yelled to them, his cheek smushed against (y/n)'s forehead as the room fell silent, much to his satisfaction. He'd finally perfected that line, settling into his comfy chair with his wife in his arms as he turned to the book's first words - the children's prompt to get up and leave.

And so, it began.

"Cap-ter one--The Beginning," he read aloud, ignoring the thief's sobs as the kids quickly scattered, not wanting to hear another line of that drivel or witness how their friend kissed up his neck.

"It all just kinda Captain'ed... My father was an irresponsible scientist, and it was Bring Your Kid To Work Day."

"Heh, I got that joke there, doofus," (y/n) giggled, utterly bored of hearing her husband's founding story for the billionth time, but she loved the little pun. He was so dorky and adorable, giving her that doofy grin as she stroked his cheeks, thankful she couldn't see Steven behind her. She could hear his whimpers and groans, but it spurred her with her open affection, knowing that this was supposed to be a punishment, and when in Rome...

"You liked it, sweet girl? Well, there's plenty more where that came from..." Ray grinned, leaning down to kiss her again, laying it on thick for their guest as he turned his nose up at the tongue action.

"Oh my God, can't you guys go do that in your own room?!" He shrieked in a panicked voice, legs flailing when Miss Danger freely rolled her body against her lover's, whispering something filthy in his ear as her hand trailed down his chest. Thank God Chapa was dozing far away on the couch with a cowboy hat covering her ears... It made him blush just picturing it.

"We already did," (y/n) replied over her shoulder, making her and Ray giggle like children as Steven audibly gagged. He'd wondered where they'd snuck off to when they first arrived at this hell hole. Still, now he had sick images in his mind, and now that he thought about it, the heroine's pyjamas were crumpled when she walked in...

"Twice." Oh, God, kill him now. Hell hath no fury like a doofus hath love for his sweet girl.

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