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queen-of-writing-bad-things · 2 months

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

Episode 37.5: A Trip Down Memory Lane

Season 5 Masterlist

The hours rolled by, filled with the hilarity of watching the antics of another dimension, until the sun set beyond the skyline, not that anyone could tell in the Man Cave.

Curled and snuggled on the couch, the little family kept the jokes, drinks, and laughter flowing long after Schwoz had to close the tear in time. Something about risking blowing a hole in the universe if he let them watch any longer, so, much to their disappointment, no more entertainment for them.

By nine, (y/n) ordered that it was time for the kids to head home, knowing they had another day of work in the morning, and she didn't want them to be late. That was nonsense; everyone knew she hated the idea of them walking home in the dark, telling them to stick together and ensure everyone was escorted to the door. They weren't babies anymore, but they were her babies, and that was all that mattered.

After giving their favourite sweet girl one last hug for the night, Henry, Jasper, Piper, and Charlotte left, heading up and into Junk-N-Stuff while Schwoz and the couple were left to clean up. How could four teenagers make so much mess? Popcorn, candy, and soda cans were scattered everywhere, even where people hadn't been sitting. It baffled (y/n), who was exhausted when she and Ray retired to their bedroom for the night.

"Tired, sweet girl?" Ray asked as he unbuttoned his shirt, hearing her yawn from where she sat at her vanity unit. Taking off the minimal makeup she wore wasn't particularly interesting, but it didn't warrant her yawning, so he knew he needed to get her tucked up in bed soon. That could have something to do with him; after all, he had her up early that day with a...personal problem.

"Hmmm?" The heroine hummed sleepily, finding his gaze in the mirror as she rubbed her forehead with a cotton pad doused in remover. It had been a long day, made even longer by flicking through various moments of their lives, so she had to think for a minute before his question caught up with her.

"Oh...yeah. Need sleep, doof."

"Long day, huh?" Ray smiled, shrugging his tight, navy blue shirt from his shoulders to expose the delicious expanse of his chiselled chest. He was so unbelievably hot, but to her disappointment and frustration, (y/n) couldn't find it in herself to jump his bones, the need to snooze screaming louder than any other instinct.

Long day...yeah, he could say that.

"Mhmm...I can't believe it's been nearly five years since Henry came here. It only feels like yesterday when he was still my lil baby," she smiled sadly, not wanting to cry again, but it felt like she'd blinked and missed everything, despite having lived it.

Is this how parents feel about their actual children? One minute, they're gangly, awkward preteens, and the next, they're adults, more focused on flying the nest than staying home. She couldn't hold on forever, but suddenly, everything had come at once, and she wasn't sure if she wanted things to change.

"Yeah, the kid's gotten taller than me. When did that happen?" Ray joked as he stepped out of his jeans, making the woman chuckle at how he puffed his cheeks out like he was mad. It didn't matter - Henry was tall but still needed to muscle up, whilst his boss was perfect just the way he was. So perfect in her eyes...

Seeing his body stretch and ripple in the soft, honey-coloured light emitting from their bedside lamp eased her heartache, knowing that Ray always stayed the same while everyone changed around her. Not in a wrong way, just that she could close her eyes and expect to see the same crystalline clue looking back at her with the same love they'd always held.

Everyone always said Captain Man was a flight risk. Yet, he was dependable to her, holding her through everything and sticking by her side. The one constant in her life.

"You haven't changed, though, doofus. You've not changed one bit in all the years we've known each other.

"Oh, really?" Ray grinned, pulling both socks from his feet before wandering over to her chair with his tanned skin on display for her to enjoy. He stood behind her, hands resting on the chair's back so he could lean down and peck her cheek, lips next to her ear as she held his adoring gaze.

He loved her like this, fresh-faced, hair freshly brushed out, and wearing nothing but underwear before she changed into her pyjamas. When she smiled, he felt the sun's warmth on his face, making him cup her jaw from behind to pull her lips closer. She looked so natural and pure, young and innocent, like the first day he met her, back when he didn't know how one person could change him so much.

It was true; he hadn't changed much since then, not in appearance, personality, or habits, but there was one difference.

"I was a different man back then, darlin'. I didn't know what it was like to love you..."

First day, fresh face, new chances. Let's go, (y/l/n).

That's what (y/n) told herself as she stared at herself in the mirror, her face squeaky clean after she scrubbed it within an inch of its life to wake herself up. This was mad, she was mad--everything was mad about this situation, but it was too late to go back now.

No one told her that she'd find employment so soon after college. Still, she'd at least thought it would be working for a big company - aviation or automotive engineering, something like that, given her chosen degree. No one said anything about Captain Man wanting her in his super secret Man Cave.

That was the maddest thing of all. Her in the Man Cave. Her working for the Captain Man. It came out of nowhere; one minute, she was held at gunpoint in her favourite café with the handsome hero giving her his number. The next thing she knew, she received a text while packing up her dorm room.

Ray Manchester/Captain Man: Hey, it's me. Captain Man. We met at the café on the corner of South Street on Thursday. Hope you don't think this is weird, but I checked you out and saw you're graduating without anywhere to go. How do you fancy a job?

You could've knocked her down with a feather. Seriously, he remembered her number amongst the hundreds he collected every day. The man was a walking phone book, yet something told him to text little old her, even though she wasn't anything special. Not even beautiful by traditional standards.

No, (y/n) (y/l/n) was nothing to shout about. She didn't fall into the "not like other girls" category but wasn't a pick me, either. She was hideously average - ordinary - and she was okay with that, so why did Captain Man choose her?

Oh, well, not Captain Man. Ray Manchester. As she had now learned. She could keep a secret, having been almost bullied into it when a funny bald, almost coconut-headed man threatened to wipe her memory if she told anyone about her offer. A helper to the legendary hero, to help with any and all his needs, whether it be cleaning, washing, repairing, tidying, lying, cooking--you name it, she had to do it.

'A glorified cleaner,' she'd thought to herself, feeling slightly disappointed that she couldn't put her skills in engineering to more use, but for fifteen dollars an hour, she wasn't complaining, and neither did she come cheap.

It was her only condition to be adequately paid if she was expected to do all the jobs he didn't want to, even though he was generous enough to give her a place to live.

Her room was slowly starting to feel like home now she'd finished unpacking, but now it was time to get serious. Now, there was work to be done, which meant she had to leave her sanctuary and socialise. Why did she think she could do this?

Taking a deep breath, she patted her face dry and left the bathroom, shrugging on her jacket before heading for the door. She couldn't hide forever, and this was a good job. A job she didn't want to mess up because Captain Man had put his faith in her, and that had to count for something.

"Hey..." she greeted her new friends shyly after walking down the corridor and through the cog, sprog, door thing. She was still getting used to how big the place was - hundreds of rooms and all underground - but she at least knew how to get to the main one, where the small man, Schwoz, and her new boss were waiting.

"Hello!" Schwoz greeted her kindly, giving the girl his friendliest smile since he noted how she nervously played with her sleeves as she tentatively approached.

He wasn't one for new faces, but after reading the woman's profile, he determined she'd do some good to the Man Cave and perhaps even rub off on Ray with her diligence and brains. A new friend to have an intelligent conversation with would be a change.

"You made it! Welcome to your first day in the Man Cave, (y/n)!" Ray told her warmly, throwing his arms open to gesture to the grand estate he'd carved out all on his own--and by that, he meant he'd told Schwoz what to do.

He still thought she was pretty - a hell of a lot prettier than when she'd faced a dangerous criminal and spilt coffee down her shirt, but he told himself to stop it. If he was going to have someone else helping him, he'd have to remain professional and draw a few lines between them, despite his initial attraction. For all her shyness, he knew the temper and passion that hid within her, and he knew that spark was missing in his Man Cave.

So, he deemed her an employee - a friend - and left it at that.

"Thank you, Mr Manchester. I still think this is so generous of you," (y/n) replied shyly, trying to stop the heat from rising on her face, but she couldn't help but be flustered in his presence.

The man was terrifying, both from his looks and his formidable reputation. Everyone loved Captain Man, respected him, and placed him on a pedestal, so she didn't want to upset or fall in love with him.

She still thought love was ridiculous. A childish schoolgirl fantasy, but looking at him now, dressed in civilian clothes with his hair floppy and ungroomed, he was more handsome than ever. Captain Man was good, but Ray Manchester was even better, and she was slightly terrified of forming a crush.

She was beginning to understand why so many of her friends fancied him, so she scolded herself, saying he was still a player, a heartbreaker, and a good-time boy, not to mention her boss now. She wouldn't let herself fall in love - the mere thought was laughable.

Average girls don't get handsome heroes to fall in love with them. That's just the circle of life.

"Hey, what have I said about you calling me that? Come on, call me Ray. Mr Manchester makes me feel old," the man told her, playfully nudging her elbow as she giggled nervously, feeling like her cheeks were on fire. He'd said to relax and treat this like her new home, but it was still her workplace - kinda hard to relax.

"Oh, right... I forgot."

"No worries. It takes a while to get used to this place," Ray grinned, seeing how she rubbed her hands together and avoided holding his gaze for too long.

She was sweet, perhaps slightly shyer than his initial impression, and easily spooked, but it was only her second day. Yesterday, she'd been too busy unpacking her stuff and sorting everything out to do much, so he hoped to get to know her beyond what he'd read on various national databases.

"So..." (y/n) said awkwardly, staring at her feet as Schwoz returned to his tinkering. "What do you want me to do first?"

"Uh, well, I spilt some chips and guacamole over there, so you can start mopping it up for me, and we'll go from there," Ray pointed at a gooey green mess across the room.

(y/n) slid her eyes to the guac, her mouth slowly falling open at the browning slop and wasn't necessarily spilt, more like dropped in a glass bowl, meaning it wouldn't be a quick, easy job. More dangerous and disgusting, not something she'd expected to do once she had her degree.

"Uh, sure...and then, I can do something...technical?" She asked, looking hopeful since she wasn't above a bit of cleaning, but she didn't want her life to revolve around his clumsiness, no matter how much he paid her. It was demeaning and a waste of her skill and talent.

"Then, you can do my laundry. And I think my toilet needs unblocking, so..." Ray said, looking off to the side as he picked up a plunger from Schwoz's toolbox and held it out to her. The woman took it with a shocked expression, looking at the plunger like it came from Mars because what the fuck?

She could clean, but she drew the line at shovelling shit all day, not when she'd come first in science fairs, earned the highest grade in her year, and turned down some top offers from various businessmen searching for young talent. Working for Captain Man seemed like the obvious choice, one connected with prestige and satisfaction for her, even if no one else would know - she would. At least, that's what she'd thought.

"Clean guacamole...okay," she nodded, grabbing a pair of rubber gloves from a trolley before taking a bundle of cleaning products with the plunger.

As much as she wanted to tell him to fuck off and do it himself - his mess, his responsibility - she couldn't. Her voice died the second she looked up at him, comparing the man to a mountain or a god because, goddamn, he was handsome, strong, and popular, so everything she wasn't. Who was she to talk back to him?

Her nerves wouldn't let her say anything, so she put her head down and got on, silently walking over to the spillage next to the oddly circular couch.

It wasn't a horrible job, even if she had to dodge the shards of broken glass. Perhaps a little menial, but she scooped the gunk into a bucket and efficiently wiped the stain it left behind with a blob of bleach, leaving the floor spotlessly clean in minutes.

Schwoz watched with curious eyes, wondering how the girl who'd called his boss a little spandex bastard would put up with his barking orders. Not even one witty remark fell from her lips, none of the fire before, and he considered if Ray had made a mistake. It wouldn't be the first time he'd been blinded by gorgeous looks, but he felt sure this girl had some brains. Maybe it was just a case of good grades but no gumption.

"Make sure you get all the grease up. I'd hate to slip when I'm playing mini golf or something," Ray said casually, more focused on texting whichever girl he was inviting out later on than the woman on her hands and knees, scrubbing his floors.

The rhythmic scraping of her brush against the tiles slowed down as his words sunk in. Make sure you get the grease up. You. Not him. You. The one with mug written across her forehead. She used to design engines for racecars and once built a circuit for a rocket ship, yet here she was, taking orders.

Was it just her, or was Captain Man looking down on her?

"Oh, and by the way, you'll need to do all the counting stuff for the store upstairs. I'd do it myself, but math, am I right? I mean, do I look like a nerd? Also, make sure you dust all the junk up there before I go out for my hot da--"

"Um, excuse me...Ray?" She said awkwardly, sitting back on her haunches to look at him, even if she had a foreboding feeling like she was throwing her job prospects away before properly starting.

It was probably dumb, and she lamented the thought of repacking all her stuff if he kicked her out, but he was annoying her. What happened to the gentleman the magazines said he was? According to Swellview Cosmopolitan, Captain Man would never make a lady clean his home from top to bottom without saying please. If there was a time to stand up for herself, the time was now.

"You missed a spot..." he muttered, limply gesturing to a tiny flicker of green paste on the couch arm. From her deductions, some careless idiot had left the bowl on the arm, and it had fallen off, leaving a key lime smear and smush for the next sucker in line to wipe up.

The rag she'd use to remove it fell from her hand, her eyes wide and mouth ajar at his brazen rudeness, wondering what happened to the bashful, enchanting hero who'd charmed his way into her phone book, promising to return her dry cleaning, which he did when he picked up her and her entire life belongings in the "Man Van". Was she not even worth looking at?

Whatever he was doing, or rather, whoever he was texting, must've been captivating, worthier of his attention since he barely looked up from his PearPhone, just to see if she'd cleaned thoroughly.

"I like math," she said simply when her brain finally kicked into gear, although it wasn't quite the scathing comeback she had hoped for.

Part of her was slightly offended that he thought the subject was for nerds, but she got it. Not everyone liked numbers - fair enough. But accounting? Economics? She couldn't think of anything more dreary, and how he said it... he wasn't doing his books. Yet, he insulted the girl he expected to manage an entire business. His business.

The math wasn't mathing.

"Huh?" Ray mumbled cluelessly, glancing away from his screen and the latest message some boring brunette had sent him to see his new employee had gotten to her feet. And was glaring at him - softly, admittedly - but she didn't look happy.

"You said math is for nerds. I like math. Math is good."

Wow, way to tell him where to go, (y/l/n). She couldn't help but scold herself because what was that? What started as an attempt to chew his ear off ended in her sounding like a preschooler, all simple sentences and boring adjectives.

Ray stopped and looked. Really looked. In the time he'd flirted, asked a girl out, and received an emphatic YES!, her breathing had increased, a slight crease formed between her eyebrows, and her fists had closed, making the guac-covered rubber gloves squeak between her fingers.

He glanced at Schwoz, who just shrugged and quietly returned to his soldering, knowing a steadily growing anger when he saw one.

The genius knew Ray was dense, and he didn't understand his emotions, let alone someone else's. That's why his relationships never lasted more than a couple of months. No one had ever shown him anything worth an emotional investment. Love was cheap and friendship easy, so he'd never truly cared for someone except himself.

Finding no answers from his handyman, the hero faced his newest employee, staring at her curiously. It didn't help (y/n)'s inner turmoil, his icy blue eyes penetrating her soul and shattering her strength to fight back because, wow. He made it so hard with his handsomeness, and the thought of an argument made her question every idea and comeback she planned, wondering if she really wanted to battle Captain Man.

Talk about idiotic. The guy was known for tearing his enemies apart, both physically and mentally, hitting them with the cruellest insults and harshest ridicule. She wasn't sure if her inner nerd could take that...too shy and timid to say something in her defence. Maybe this was stupid, the whole job.

She couldn't do this...

"Ain't no shame in that--hey, when you're unblocking my toilet, make sure you flush it twice. Gets preeeeetty hectic in there," the large man grinned, his large hand reaching out to warmly grasp her shoulder and shake it lightly in a friendly gesture.

(y/n) stared at it, ignoring the sparks shooting down her spine at how comforting his touch was and how his hand seemed to dwarf the rest of her. Under any other circumstances, she would've melted at the attention he paid her like every other girl in the city, who would've called her mad for glaring at Captain Man, but that was it. The final straw. The pretence that he was giving her advice, like cleaning his toilet was an honour.

"I'll have you know I have a first-class degree in mechanical engineering. I've studied multivariate calculus and differential equations--"

"Oh, great! You'll remember how many flushes, then," he exclaimed, chuckling and prodding Schwoz so he'd laugh at his joke too, but (y/n)'s face fell like rain before a thunderstorm. Seeing him take what she was proud of - the late study nights, the tears, the endless iced coffees, the countless empty pens, the hundreds of dead trees, the eight AM classes - and make a mockery of it killed something inside her, and it was like she went numb.

The movies always said some romantic bullshit about the feeling of being plunged into icy water when hope dies, but now she understood it. As if she imagined that Captain Man would want to be her friend and as if she let herself believe for a single second that she was special. Those butterflies she felt outside the café when he smiled at her turned to daggers, tearing her insides up as his shoulders rolled and hers sagged.

It was the curse of being hideously average. Ordinary. Sickeningly so. She didn't have the legs to captivate his attention or the skill to perfect a winged eyeliner. She couldn't even be bothered most mornings to drag a mascara wand through her eyelashes, and her wardrobe was that of a woman forty years older than her - all sweaters, cuffed jeans, and well-worn sneakers. She didn't fit the job requirements; she hadn't won a beauty pageant.

Who was she kidding? Her first day was doomed to fail from the moment she believed when he said she was beautiful.

"Why don't you do the world a favour and flush yourself?" She said slowly, fighting frustrated tears as she tore the gloves off her hands and slapped them against his chest.

A stab of panic shot through her when Ray's eyes widened at her sudden outburst, but the adrenaline had already kicked in, making her run on a high. Nothing could take her down except her own actions, and if she was going to set fire to herself, she'd stand back and watch the room glow before she went. Maybe then he'd think before employing some other sucker.

"Excuse m--"

"Look, I know you're Captain Man, and everyone loves you, and I should be respectful and grateful because you've given me this job and a room to live in. Really, I should be indebted to you," she said, folding her arms and looking straight at him, feeling her confidence rise when the hulking hero stared back like a deer in headlights.

His mouth opened and closed like a goldfish, looking for an intelligent reply or crooning comment to match her underhanded compliments because it was true. He went out of his way to welcome her into his Man Cave, yet she had the balls to call him out. Interesting...

Schwoz set down his tools and listened--eavesdropped, really. When Ray said he was bringing home a firecracker, he imagined some venom-spitting Valley girl, all mouth and sass but none of the class, but this was...different. Watching her clean the spilt dip without any arguments made him write (y/n) down as a doormat--the type of girl he'd seen in college, all brains and no voice box. Perhaps this was the temper that made the man daydream for days after they first met...

"But I've worked too long and hard to be reduced to...this!" The girl exclaimed, wildly gesturing to the gloves and cleaning chemicals, already resenting the idea of wearing them again and spending the rest of her days as a skivvy on her hands and knees.

"On the phone, you said you needed help from someone like me, and I told you what I can do. Minimal cleaning, you said. Engineering opportunities, you said. Better than anything any company could offer you. And I fell for it. I thought working for a superhero would be glamorous, or at least, sometimes!"

"It is...glamorous," Ray replied, his words clumsy and clunky in his mouth as the fire in her eyes. She scoffed at his words, shaking her head and laughing bitterly because maybe it was like that for him.

When he was parading in front of the cameras after helping an old lady cross the street, perhaps the free dinners and call girls were lovely. Almost like he was a movie star. Did he never spare a thought for those who worked their asses off to make his life sparkle?

"You want me to unblock your toilet! How is that glamorous?!" She hissed, pointing sharply at the plunger by her feet, making the men look at it, and she was silently pleased to see a little shame in their eyes, especially Ray's.

"I didn't agree to work for you just to be ordered about. Yeah, I'll clean if it needs doing, but would it kill you to say, please? You might think you're high and mighty, but that doesn't mean you're above me in any way. I'd rather be an unemployed nerd than degrade people and misplace intelligence the way you do," she ranted, not knowing how to stop once she got going, lashing out with a surprising amount of emotion to say she'd only been at work for about an hour.

She could see it now in the newspapers tomorrow; woman sets record for the shortest time before being fired. This had to be a low point in her life, knowingly and willingly burning any chance of future employment, hacking her social ladder to splinters, and casting her reputation into the depths. Self-sacrifice was tragic, but she'd always enjoyed tragedies - at least they were memorable, unlike the people who loyally follow a man by others' perception of him alone.

"Oh, and by the way, how about you take your plunger, turn it sideways, and shove it right up your ass? See how easy it is to unblock your toilet, then..."

Ray was speechless. Utterly speechless. The room was silent. A pin couldn't be heard, even when Schwoz dropped it on the floor, given that (y/n) couldn't hear anything but the flood rushing past her ears. All she saw was red and her self-worth shining above everything else, which made his wide-eyed stare a little more bearable. But only just.

This was it. This was the girl Ray had met outside the café. Part of him had questioned whether he'd mistakenly picked her as his chief helper, but she proved him wrong yet again. He needed to stop judging her before she came into her own because he kept looking like an idiot - an idiot whose mouth got the better of him again.

In truth, Ray didn't technically need an extra set of hands in the Man Cave. Schwoz could do everything just fine - he was handy like that. But as much as he secretly appreciated the guy, he felt something was missing. He had this huge hideout, hundreds of rooms, and adoring fans, but he was lonely. He didn't know how to be...normal. He wanted a friend. Someone brave enough to talk back occasionally, to keep him in line and plug the gap.

Bumping into her that day felt like fate like someone had sent her to show him how not-lonely feels. Laughing and joking with her, even if it wasn't flirting, felt easy, and for the first time in his life, he didn't feel the need to woo her. If anything, he was terrified of screwing it up. He was good at screwing up what could've been a beautiful friendship, and he desperately didn't want it to happen with her - the only girl he'd ever shared his secret identity with.

So, when she sighed and moved to return to her room, presumably to say, sorry, this isn't working out, and shove her belongings into boxes again, his heart lurched. If this was goodbye, he didn't want it to be on such bad terms...or he'd rather it not be goodbye at all.

"I'll take an hour's payment and have my room cleared out by tomorrow morning. I'm sorry--"

"Please, don't."

(y/n) looked up in shock, wondering if she'd heard the first word correctly. Did he--did he say the P-word? Even on national TV, she couldn't remember seeing or hearing Captain Man being polite - charming and captivating, but never truly nice. That always made her switch channels, knowing people were too blind to see the real him--how he dated and dropped girls like hot potatoes, paraded in front of cameras, and through hissy fits whenever someone else took the spotlight.

She liked to think she met a different side of him after the hostage situation, fooling herself so severely that she accepted the job. He quickly proved her wrong--or had he? This three-sixty personality change practically gave her whiplash and made her suspicious about what he was crawling for.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Please, don't...go. I'm--I'm--so--sur---serr--I'm--sorry," Ray stammered, struggling to force the foreign word out of his mouth, almost like the five letters tasted like poison on his tongue. He wasn't used to grovelling for forgiveness, but this girl...she was too sweet to disappoint and disgust, no matter how bitter the pill was to swallow.

"Wow...that was excruciating to watch," (y/n) replied sarcastically, a smile twinging on her lips at how silly he looked, retching and struggling to say a simple word, yet he called himself mighty. What a dingus...no, dork...no...doofus. Yes. What a doofus.

"Look, I'm...sorry. I'm just...not good at the whole people thing," he confessed, almost ashamed at how badly things had developed and in record time. But at least it made her unfold her arms, looking slightly sceptical yet curious at his words.

Him? Bad with people? It almost felt like a mockery of those like her, who could barely string a sentence together at times because she'd seen the magazines, watched the interviews, and lived it in real life. The man could sweet talk the pants off any woman and fool any man into giving him the shirt off their back if he wanted it. Not good with people, her ass.

"Seriously? You're Captain Man. I hate to break it to you, but you've made a living out of being good with people."

"Yeah, as Captain Man. But I'm me. Ray. I'm just a loser with a junk store when I'm out of uniform. Nothing special," he gave her a sad smile, genuinely believing that his work was his escape and prison rolled into one.

It allowed him to be something bigger than Ray Manchester could ever dream about, but there lay the paradox. Captain Man allowed him to do whatever he wanted, but no one could ever share in that life. He couldn't tell the girls who threw themselves at his feet who he was because he was sure they'd walk away when he removed his mask. They loved the idea of him, not who he was.

Ray Manchester's dreams stretched to a simple life where he loved and was loved in return, but Captain Man meant they'd never be realised. That was the price he paid for fame; to be adored in one life and shunned in another. And as depressing as that seemed, he'd made peace with it. Or, that's what he told himself in the middle of the night when his tears pooled in his ears.

"Hey, don't say that. I don't think you're a loser," (y/n) instantly replied, showing a different side of herself as her fury melted to be replaced with kindness and concern. She didn't like how he'd bossed her around. But, suddenly, she wasn't talking to the infamous hero but stepping toward him--into his personal space.

Standing before her was a man, who, like every other man in the world, had his hopes, dreams, doubts, and fears, and one was shockingly similar to hers.

He was average. Hideously average. So normal and ordinary and boring that she'd walk past him on the street and never imagine he was Captain Man, looked over and dismissed like she was. A kindred spirit lost and looking for his place in the world because all the glory Captain Man brought him didn't give him peace. Just like her.

"You're sweet, but I am. Trust me, half the women in this town hate my guts, and the other half think I'm an idiot. I just...always seem to screw it up."

"So what if they hate you? You trust me. They'd be all over you if they knew what you did in your spare time. They just don't know what they're missing, and if they can't find something in you to love, they're the idiots. And they're not worth your time," she told him firmly, her tone leaving no room for doubt.

It was strange; she could never give herself advice like this when the boys she fancied rejected her love or when one of her friends was unreasonably mean. She couldn't tell herself to let them go, no matter how horrible they were, but a wave of protectiveness washed over her for some reason. Her head told her not to care; the guy was an asshole, self-centred and childish, but her heart said otherwise.

Caring was always her biggest weakness, bothering when no one else would because it didn't feel right to stand there and do nothing.

"I'm sorry I was rude to you. It was wrong of me to give a sweet girl like you so many demands," Ray whispered, his eyes soft and hazy as her words sunk in.

No one had ever told him something like that--that if someone didn't like him, that was their problem, not his. It had drilled into him from the moment he'd become indestructible that if he wanted to people to like him, he had to be a people pleaser. He had to smile and perform for their affection; something was wrong with him if it didn't work.

If anyone deserved an apology, it was her, the girl who pushed aside her anger to make him feel better. Him. The one who made her feel bad. She put him before herself, even at the sacrifice of her argument and pride. No one had ever done that before. No one had ever smiled at him like he was worthy of kindness and caring words.

It was unknown, but he knew he'd move mountains to feel his tummy's warm, gooey feeling again when her eyes sparkled at him. He wouldn't mind feeling it for the rest of his life.

"It's okay. I think this is new for the both of us," (y/n) said softly, feeling at ease for the first time since she fell from the store above them in that godforsaken elevator.

It was like an understanding settled between them; they were entirely different people, coming from different backgrounds and interests and ideas, but they glued together. It shouldn't have worked, but it did, like how two puzzle pieces look different, but they fit anyway. Neither was above the other, and they liked it that way.

"I'm sorry for snapping at you. I, uh...tend to sort of angrily word-vomit when I'm mad..."

"How about we start over? Nice to meet you. I'm Ray Manchester," the man smiled, politely presenting her his massive hand as a peace offering. She looked down at it, eyes bugging out of her head like he'd done something mad. For a moment, Ray wondered if he'd made the obviously wrong choice. He didn't know what women wanted, but this seemed like an excellent way to forget about their poor beginnings and go again unless he'd accidentally offended her.

Maybe she didn't want to touch his gross hand. Perhaps, despite the serenity finally falling over them, she still wanted to leave, pack up her things, and work for a better man. A kinder man. He wouldn't be surprised or blame her, even if the thought of her leaving left him feeling bitterly disappointed.

But then, to his shock and utter relief...

"(y/n) (y/l/n). I'm your new helper," the woman replied, giving him her most radiant smile as she accepted his offer, firmly shaking his hand. The warmth from her soft skin eased his fears and made him laugh, even though nothing was inherently funny. Knowing he had her forgiveness made the world seem a little brighter, but her grin slowed it down.

He swore time stopped for a second, making his heart skip a beat as her eyes crinkled in happiness and her feet danced on the spot. Her body bounced with positivity, the joy soaking into his bones and lifting him up with her, and she was beautiful in her halo of self-created light. So beautiful.

Average, normal, easy to look over, and beautiful. Better than any model he'd ever been out with.

"Well, Miss (y/l/n), how would you like to start by helping Schwoz with some repairs? If you wouldn't mind... The auto-snacker has been freezing sodas and melting ice cream."

"I'll get right on it, Ray," she grinned again, almost bashful under his newfound kindness, and although he didn't realise it, Ray quickly became addicted to making her happy. It was surprisingly simple to make her smile, not because she was easy to please, but because he could just be himself, and she loved to see it.

She didn't want any macho bullshit or to be blinded by his fame. She preferred people to be transparent and felt that she and this version of him could grow to be great friends. When he put it like that, she'd do anything for him, giggling like a schoolgirl under his soft gaze, something that practically had Schwoz on his knees.

Finally, a girl who was good for him. Not one with paintbrushes for eyelashes, the brains of a squirrel, or an agenda to use and dump him. He already knew (y/n) would make an impression on the Man Cave as she eagerly bounced up to him and demanded he let her help. He just hoped Ray didn't add her to his bedpost - a girl like that was too precious to break.

"What's going on out here?"

"Ah, now here's a face you haven't met before. (y/n), I'd like you to meet my soon-to-be sidekick, Drex..."

He just hoped nothing would go wrong...

"I still can't believe we had our first fight and make-up on my first day," (y/n) chuckled, breaking into reality again as she smeared a few blobs of moisturiser across her face. She still found it hilarious that her younger self had the gall to tell her boss - Captain Man - to shove a plunger up his ass, but she still stood by what she said. And it taught Ray not to order her about ever again.

"I'm still sorry about that. You know I didn't mean to upset you, sweet girl," Ray muttered, ignoring that twinge in his back as he awkwardly bent over to place kisses along her shoulder line. Every time he looked back on her first official day in the Man Cave, he couldn't help but be wracked with guilt over some of the deplorable, degrading tasks he wanted her to do, all of which were far below what a girl as sweet as her should've been doing. Honestly, it was like he wanted his soulmate to hate him...

"Raymond, it was almost thirteen years ago. You know I forgave you the minute you looked at me with those big, doofy eyes," she replied, mirthfully rolling her eyes at how silly he was, clinging to something so tiny and inconsequential when she was just as bad.

It wasn't her best idea to risk her job when she didn't have another one to go to or even somewhere in the city to live, and she wasn't as bright as she thought she was, fresh out of college. Still, their younger selves were footloose, fancy-free, and really fucking stupid. That may be why they clicked from the get-go.

"I know, but--"

"But nothing, you big doofus. How many other times have we pissed each other off? Like, a million? We're still here, we're still in love, and we're doing all right...unless there's something you want to tell me," she teased, reaching up to rake her fingers through his ruffled, silky hair.

The man took her hand and kissed her wrist, feeling her pulse gently thrumming against his lips as he caught her gaze in the mirror again. She still bewitched him with that smile, enchanting him so entirely that he couldn't look away, not even with the temptation of her semi-naked form on display.

"Of course, there isn't. You make everything so perfect, darlin'," he cooed, nuzzling his face into her sweet-smelling skin as she giggled and squirmed from the ticklish sensation. All the flashbacks made him clingy and sappy, reminding him repeatedly why he'd fallen in love with her--why he'd chosen to place her at the centre of his universe.

Everything good in his life came from her - she made it happen. He would've gone mad long ago if it wasn't for her always by his side, keeping him and Captain Man on the straight and narrow. He wouldn't have his little mismatched family if she didn't show him how to love. He wouldn't be so excited to see what's coming next if she didn't give him the honour of agreeing to become his wife.

"Flattery will get you nowhere..."

"On the contrary, it's gotten me everywhere in the past, especially between your thighs," he replied cheekily, chuckling against her neck when she reached up to whack whatever body part her hand found first - the side of his head. Still, she smirked and giggled as much as he did, ignoring how warm her ears felt as she rose from her seat and turned to slot into his embrace as she'd done many times before.

"A tempting offer, doofus..." she said, winding her arms around his neck after tucking the chair under the vanity unit. His hands settled on her waist, still feeling impossibly large even after all their years together, pulling her close until her bare navel pressed against his. No longer restricted by their uneven heights, he quickly pressed his lips to her, diving into his favourite taste - honey in all its addictive sweetness. He wondered how he went all that time without it, knowing he needed it to live now.

"But I want to put on my pyjamas." With that, she pulled away, leaving him hooked but unsatisfied after breaking the kiss far too early for his liking. His dark eyes lingered on her body as she turned to find her silky slip-like nightie waiting on the bed.

Maybe it wasn't the pyjama idea she planted in his head. Still, Ray didn't complain when she quickly removed her underwear in what he'd call the hottest striptease, tossing the garments in the laundry basket before reaching for the slip. It was soft, breathable, and comfy, perfect for sleeping in, but when she felt for it, all she touched was the coarser fabric of the cotton comforter.

"Allow me, sweet girl," Ray rumbled, suddenly crowding behind her, making her breathless. She'd always called him her human heater, the warmth seeping into her body as he pressed himself against her, clearly not in the mood to leave her alone that night. Or any night. He didn't understand why any man in love with his wife would want to stop worshipping her, especially if they had one as perfect as his.

Without another word, (y/n) lifted her arms above her head, allowing Ray to sweep the swiped silk over her head and poke her arms through the proper holes. She could dress herself, but there was something so romantic and intimate about letting him do it, knowing his protective, nurturing instinct drove him to care for her in every way, every day.

It was the least he could do for her. She showed him new ways of living that had always seemed out of reach, guided him into new territory that he'd shunned in the past, and taught him that love could touch him in all manner of ways.

It was another Thursday night, like every other Thursday night in the last seven years. And nothing exciting ever happened in the Man Cave on Thursday night.

Throughout the week, Ray was always busy with his hero work, being called out to various emergencies that kept him entertained, and (y/n) didn't mind that.

The peace and quiet gave her the time to do all the chores her best friend distracted her from, like laundry, cleaning, and repairs. Her doofus was a sweetheart, captivating her attention with the slightest hint of affection - and these days, she was so in love with him that she'd do anything to get the tiniest scrap. But sometimes, she just needed to get on with her work.

But Thursdays? Thursdays sucked. Halfway into the week but still a day away from the weekend. Even the criminals didn't want to pilfer, pillage, and plunder on Thursdays because they could just wait for the city to come alive on Friday. It meant Ray was at home almost every night that day, and (y/n) finished all her tasks by Wednesday. She was efficient like that, but it left the would-be couple with nothing to do.

Thursday could go do one, but one day, the girl had the bright idea to designate it movie night, and thus, their tradition of watching a rom-com every week began.

Sane Poor Europeans was about a girl and a guy from the same world falling in love. It went against the typical grain of poor girl meets rich guy or the starring couple being worlds apart, and it was meant to be a box office hit. (y/n) was digging it, shipping Raquelle and Nigel all the way, even if Nigel's mother wanted them to break up. However, as engrossed as she was in the movie, something was bugging her. Or rather, someone.

"Raymond, what's gotten into you tonight?" She grumbled as he fidgeted for the fiftieth time since she pressed play on the DVD, and they'd only been going for thirty minutes.

They'd quickly assumed their natural movie-watching position once Ray had retrieved the popcorn from the auto-snacker; she laid on her back, head in his lap, with her legs stretching the length of the couch, so her doofus could play with her hair.

It was pure bliss, and often, she'd fall asleep to his soft touches, waking up in her bed in the morning without the foggiest idea of how she got there. Of course, Ray took her there, but she didn't want to think about it, thinking she'd melt into a puddle if she imagined him carrying her like a knight holding his princess.

But tonight, there wasn't much chance of her nodding off, not with how he kept shifting every few minutes, continuously moving his legs, wiggling his butt, or sighing so his whole body jerked. Every time he moved, he shook her head, breaking her out of the serene trance she'd fallen into as the movie rolled on.

"Sorry, just...trying to get comfy," Ray muttered, affectionately petting her head as he adjusted his position again, and it wasn't because he was uncomfortable. With her on the couch, laying in his lap, nuzzling into him with some relaxing entertainment on the screen, it was almost impossible to be unsatisfied, and he loved it. He was fine. Nothing the matter with him.

He treasured their time together, yet (y/n) knew something was wrong. She felt it in her tummy.

"Okay, doofus. Come on--" she groaned, lamentably rolling onto her belly to sit up. Ray almost whimpered at losing her body heat and silky hair that he loved playing with. He didn't want her to move, not for his troubles, and certainly not on the one night they got together in the week. They were always so busy, especially since that little disagreement with Schwoz led to (y/n) becoming his sole helper. If he could let her relax for one night, he would do whatever it took, no matter the burden on his mind.

"Tell me what's wrong."

"Who says anything's wrong?" Ray asked defensively, avoiding her gaze as (y/n) shifted onto her butt by his side, legs tangled in a soft blanket. She snuggled close, their hips touching as she linked their arms, knowing he'd talk eventually, even if he didn't crack at first.

"I do, your best friend of seven years. That's who says something's wrong. I know you, Ray, so don't try to fool me," she said firmly, squeezing his bicep to comfort him. Plus, it was a great way to feel them up, knowing that come daybreak, he'd be off wining and dining some lucky girl, so she took her chances where she found them. Oh, how she hated seeing something worry her poor doofus...

"I could never fool you, (y/n/n). You're too smart," he teased her, booping her nose on the word clever, making her face heat up. He made it impossible not to fall in love with him, but she thought after seven years, she would've gotten over it by now. But no. Here she was, still head over heels for her best friend, dying to have her feelings requited, even for a day.

"Sure, doof," she gulped, trying to mask her real emotions because the world would almost certainly end if Ray knew how deep her feelings ran - her world, at least. She'd be kicked out of the Man Cave, and all her dreams and hopes would die, so it was better if he never found out--if they quickly moved on before she said something stupid.

"So, what's wrong?"

"It's dumb, really," Ray mumbled, looking down at his hands, making (y/n) grab and pull them into her lap, stroking her thumb over his palm tenderly. The man felt his heart lurch at the ticklish sensation, wondering what he did to deserve such a precious, pretty girl. He didn't know he could feel so much love for one person until he met her. Now he was falling more and more, thinking he'd never stop because she gave him something new to adore every day.

"I'll be the judge of that. Now, come on, don't leave me in suspense," the girl told him, looking at her best friend expectantly as he sighed and tilted his head back. If he stared at the ceiling and not into her all-seeing eyes, he wouldn't feel his heart shatter when her joy turned to disappointment and betrayal. He didn't want to upset her with such a touchy subject, knowing that despite the years that had passed, her wounds were still raw and healing, even if she claimed not to have nightmares.

But it had been on his mind for a while now, and his body was telling him it was time. Not an ear-splitting, loud shriek but a gentle reminder that no matter how much he hated it, he was getting older. His knees ached a little more than they used to, his knuckles were stiffer after missions than when he was younger, and he went to bed feeling tired each night. It wasn't personal; age caught up with everyone, even Captain Man.

"Well...you see...darlin'..." he stumbled, trying to find the right words, which was peculiar to see from a man who was usually so sure of himself. Something was wrong - he only used those pet names when he was treading on eggshells and looking to smooth her over--that's what she told herself. It was madness to think of herself as his darling.

"...I want a sidekick."

An eyebrow arched at him in response, and then...nothing. No crying, no curses, no fists thumping against his chest - (y/n) blinked as if he'd said nothing. A few minutes passed, or maybe an eternity and Ray was confident he'd broken his best friend. Why else would she stare at him like the soul had been sucked out of her?

Sidekicks were a touchy subject. Hardly discussed between them, and they talked about everything and nothing, so it was no surprise that she disconnected for a moment. After the hero's fated showdown with Drex, he'd given up on his search for someone to share in his glory, too scared to lose his pretty girl after the scars that bastard had left.

If he could go back in time, he'd gag himself before introducing them, wanting so desperately to protect her from falling into his net--to save a genuinely virtuous girl from the clutches of a monster. But he couldn't. The past was the past, and (y/n) was dealing with it. She put it behind her and, thank god, chose to stay with him, working as his helper. So, who was he to dredge up old memories and trauma for one of his fancies?

"A...sidekick?" She stammered, trying to wrap her head around the idea. Of course, she knew the world wasn't full of Drex's; that was years ago. He was her boyfriend for what? Six months? And he was hardly someone to write home about, too cold, distant, and cruel to introduce to her parents and old friends--saying that, he'd probably think her home town was pokey and insignificant, anyway.

On the other hand, Ray was the kind of guy she'd love to take home - in every sense. He was so lovely...kind, sweet, gentle, funny, playful, and silly--everything she wanted in a boyfriend. He understood her and didn't force her out of her comfort zone, but he brought her out of her shell, the one Drex pushed her into. He kept her safe all the years she'd lived with him, forging a powerful bond between them, so she couldn't imagine being hurt in the same way twice.

That was a hard lesson to learn, but she'd never let someone bully her again. Although, admittedly, the idea of a new face around the place made her nervous.

"Yeah...I mean, I know--I know it wasn't a roaring success last time," Ray replied nervously, barely meeting her eye as those dark days replayed in his mind. If anyone deserved to live in security and luxury, it was her, yet she stayed with him, the man who made her life worse at every turn.

"But it's been on my mind for ages now."

"Tell me," she told him gently, feeling the hair on the nape of her neck rise at the mere thought of another cold-hearted monster stalking the hallways again, but he was the boss. It was hardly up to her to make such a big decision, but she could see how conflicted he was, dithering on what to do, so she gave him a chance. If anyone would keep her safe, it was her doofus.

"I've just... every night I go out, I come back thinking I need help. Like, I can't do this alone anymore, and what am I gonna do when I'm too o--ol--ol--"

"Old?" (y/n) giggled, shaking her head at how he barely got the word past his lips. She didn't understand his fixation on his age, but that might've been because of their slight age difference. Maybe thirty-three is different to twenty-seven; she didn't know. All she knew was that he hated the idea--if only he told he it was because he was terrified of growing grey without her by his side.

"Yeah, that. One day, I just know I will wake up and wonder where all the time went, and I'll have no one to help me. I'll be all alone..." Ray said sadly, terrified of a future where his glory days had passed. He was an old man with no one to love, no one to care for him, and no legacy to leave behind because his younger self always said he do it later, tomorrow, maybe next week.

"You won't be alone, doofus. I..." (y/n) told him kindly, squeezing their conjoined hands as her lips parted to say, I'll always be with you. I'll always love you.

It was one of the silly things her heart wanted to say, but like always, her head cut it short like some survival instinct. As heartbreaking as the truth was, she had to face reality; he'd find a nice girl, they'd settle down, get married, have a few kids, and live happily ever after. Where did she fit in that equation?

"I just know you'll have a family by then. A lovely wife, some adorable kids, and plenty of grandkids. And they'll all want to hear about your amazing adventures as Captain Man," she said, trying to keep her tone light and airy as if the thought didn't rip out and stomp on her heart.

Ray laughed at her dramatic antics, comforted by the thought of her thinking he was worthy of those things - a whole bundle of people to love unconditionally. And yet it wasn't enough--it should've been because it sounded like a dream come true--but something wasn't right. He couldn't imagine a future without her. Yet, by the sound of things, she imagined him living a separate life, even though he couldn't imagine loving anyone but her.

"I'll have retired by then, darlin'. Someone will need to take over when I'm...y'know...o--ol--o--old."

"I understand, doofus," she smiled, shuffling closer to lay her head against his chest. The hero sighed as she snuggled into his arms, fitting so perfectly that it hurt to think of getting used to someone else. Honestly, a family wasn't all it was cracked up to be if she wasn't at its centre, but for now, he pushed those thoughts away and held her--to take whatever he could get before he had to let go.

"So, who do you want to be your new sidekick?" (y/n) asked, drawing random designs on his shirt with the tip of her finger as he tenderly rubbed her back with his huge hand. Perhaps someone new would be alright, but she couldn't guarantee she'd like them. Only someone very special...

"I don't know, no one in particular," Ray replied, having not thought that far ahead, but he had a rough idea.

"Someone young, though. A lot younger, like thirteen-fourteen, maybe? Like in the old superhero movies, there won't be that weird power dynamic like there was with Dr--like before."

"Okay...so, a kid? You're sure? Isn't that a little risky?" The woman questioned, nuzzling her nose against his neck to reach the inch of skin where his cologne was strongest. Even though it fogged her senses and drove her crazy, her mind still mulled over the idea of someone so inexperienced fighting crime. It was a dangerous job, and whilst she knew her doofus wanted someone to adore and idolise him, was it worth the peril?

"Perhaps...but they need to be fearless. Good-hearted. Loyal. Dependable. Resilient. Funny. Tough. And they need to have some skills...an instinct for fighting crime...and know how to put up with all my shit," Ray said dreamily as he pictured his ideal sidekick fighting by his sidekick. Someone innocent and youthful saving his butt just in the nick of time, learning everything he had to teach to one day take his mantle and carry on the Captain Man name.

"Sounds good, doof. But, y'know, this kid is gonna have to be pretty special. How are you gonna find them?" She replied, suddenly feeling reality dawn on her.

This was...happening? A new sidekick, someone to show the ropes, advise, and protect whenever they were in the Man Cave. She could do that.

"Put an ad online for me tomorrow?" The hero requested hopefully, knowing his clever girl was miles better at all that tech stuff than he was. She'd create the perfect advert and find him the perfect sidekick, thus completing everything he needed, even though leaving all the work to her was a bit cheeky.

"Ugh, fine. But just because I love you--and put up with you l-like any best friend would," (y/n) grumbled, only to feel her tummy turn when, in her cologne-induced haze, she let her tongue slip her greatest secret. It was a quick, if unconvincing save, her heart pounding in her ears as she prayed he didn't notice her stuttering or how her fingers clenched his shirt.

She was her own worst enemy, shoving herself into the friend-zone because of some ancient, faded line between them. It hurt like hell to call him her best friend, knowing she couldn't be more in love with him if she tried, but she coped by living in denial. She denied she felt anything; she rejected any prospect of hope and refused anyone telling her anything else.

"That's my girl," Ray chuckled, feeling like he was dying inside when she claimed to love him, but only like she'd love a brother or pet. Who was he kidding? She was his best friend too; it was weird how he felt for her, so he pushed it to the back of his mind as he reached to hit play on the movie again--to lose themselves in another fairytale love story amidst the feeling of friendship.

"And don't worry, (y/n/n), this one will be different. I've got a good feeling about this one, you'll see..."

Falling back into reality, the lovers held each other in their arms, laughing and sharing endless kisses as if they were making up for their lost time. Looking back on it now, they seemed so stupid, pining for each other so much when they just needed to say something. It was a cycle they'd reflected on many times before, and it never made sense. Neither did it ever get any easier, knowing they wasted nine years when they could've ended the suffering there and then.

Still, things folded how they did for a reason, and Ray and (y/n) didn't have it in themselves to complain. They took the long road, but finally, the man knew he wasn't destined to be the sad, lonely old man he'd feared in his youth because he had his sweet girl. And she was very much still the centre of his world - the one who gave him a family without even knowing it.

"I did end up finding the perfect sidekick," Ray mumbled against her lips, his hands tilting her jaw toward him so he could relish her honey-like taste. He could never thank her enough for posting that online ad because out of the dozen or so applicants they had, they found Henry Hart.

He was fearless. Good-hearted. Loyal. Dependable. Resilient. Funny. Tough. He had skills before any training, an instinct for fighting crime, and he put up with all the shit life in the Man Cave through at him. He took everything Ray taught him and became a courageous, seasoned fighter, willing to do anything to save Swellview. Even when he wanted to quit, he never backed down, and above all else, he was the reason Ray got to hold his wife in his arms every night. He did that, and the man could never thank him enough.

"The best, doofus. I'll only say this once, but you were right. Your good feeling played out," (y/n) smiled, lovingly stroking his cheek as he held her silk-clad hips. She'd all but been set to hate whoever her boss chose, terrified of being hurt again by any sidekick, but along came Henry, and...well, it was safe to say that kid stole her heart, or whatever Ray had left of it.

If Ray trained him to be brave, (y/n) taught him to be kind. Unconditionally, always. It was all well and good knowing how to fight, but knowing when not to fight was even harder, but the kid always found it easy with her. He could go to her with anything, and she'd sit him down, give him a cookie, and hear him out. She welcomed him into her home, and now, she couldn't imagine it without him, the boy who taught them how to love openly. Freely. Without fear.

"He's a good kid," he agreed, kissing her jaw and neck, worshipping the woman who made it all possible. Ray hadn't known what it was like to have a family, and now he had four kids, a wife, and a weird, fuzzy-headed friend under his roof. They all stayed because she did, not that (y/n) knew that.

"Even though he drives us insane, and he brought all his friends here, and his sister, and he eats all the nachos in the auto-snacker, and he makes me do his laundry whenever he sleeps over..."

"You wouldn't change him, though, would you?" The hero smirked, pulling away to look at her pouty expression as if Henry truly got under her skin with all his quirks. He'd lost count of how often she'd scolded him for leaving his shoes in the middle of the room for anyone to trip over, acting like a fool around his would-be girlfriends, or going along with Captain Man's stupid plans.

"Literally nothing, not a single hair on his precious head, ever," (y/n) replied, the words falling from her lips at lightning speed. How could she change Henry? Everything he did made up who he was; she loved all of it, having seen him grow up.

"He's my baby... They all are."

"I know, sweet girl. And they think the world of you," Ray grinned and pecked her forehead, aware that she didn't know how precious she was.

Given how many children seemed to end up in his Man Cave, he was thinking of fitting a turnstile instead of a door in Junk-N-Stuff. Still, his fiancée took it all in her stride, welcoming, nurturing, and caring for them individually until she loved them, and they loved her. But really, who wouldn't?

Standing in the middle of the room, her hands resting on his chest, (y/n) swore her cheeks were on fire, heated by his unusually reverent mood that night. Ray was touchy, handsy, and all loved up every day of the year, but he couldn't help but spill the truth in the soft glow of their bedroom. They'd gone too many years keeping secrets from each other. They promised never to do that again; besides, complimenting her was his second favourite thing to do.

"I'm surprised at that. Do you know how much we pissed them off before we started dating? Apparently, we were insufferable," she giggled, brushing her lips against his as she remembered all the years she waited. Looking back, she could understand why they felt like that; they were stupidly unbearable, especially when the kids dropped a hint after hint, but neither picked them up.

"Yeah, but look at us now, darlin'. I have you all to myself, and they complain that I kiss you too much. I can't win," Ray grumbled, forever grumpy that Henry nagged him about making a move on (y/n), to stop being a chicken, and ask her out, only to gag and mock them now that they seized every opportunity.

"True, doof. They have no one to blame but themselves," she whispered, raking her hands through his hair as she recalled the moment he confessed his love for her quietly and brokenly, terrified she'd throw it back in his face. But how could she? The moment had been engineered to force them to show their hands, and nothing had been the same since.

Henry, Charlotte, Piper, and Jasper could pretend to puke, roll their eyes, and make fun, but this was their fault. They'd still be blindly going in circles if it wasn't for their little nudges and schemes because they weren't good at relationships--surprisingly.

Loving was easy; knowing what to do after was a whole nother problem. Ray only knew how to start a relationship and watch it burn. (y/n) only knew how they ended - in tears and with the innocent party hurting more than those who did wrong.

In bringing them together, the kids caused a mini-crisis because when suddenly placed in heaven, having reached the end goal, finally where they were meant to be, the couple didn't know where to start next. What do you do when the love of your life says they feel the same way?

"I thought for sure we wouldn't last. You're too good to be true, and yet here we are..."

If this was a dream, then (y/n) never wanted to wake up.

It was like she was flying, falling faster than ever before, reaching new highs than she knew were possible, and it was all thanks to the man helping her out of the car. Like a true gentleman, Ray held the door open and offered his sweet girl his open palm whilst she slid off the leather seat, trying to be elegant and graceful in a dress that wouldn't usually take residence in her wardrobe.

But this was a special occasion. This was the night she'd been waiting for all her life, the one opportunity to achieve happiness and secure her dreams of living happily ever after with the guy she imagined marrying and growing old with. This was the legendary, infamous, much-anticipated first date.

No pressure, then.

She felt silly in her fancy clothes, knowing her foot just had to hit the ground funny, and she'd take a tumble in her ludicrous high heels. They were more like torture devices for those who hated having feet tight and wobbly, but they made her legs look longer, so that was all that mattered.

The idea was to look like a model. A really hot, glamorous model who could easily be the newest face of Swellview Cosmopolitan or the next Miss Swellview beauty pageant winner. She'd picked out her outfit according to that criteria; perfect hair and makeup, uncomfortable shoes, tiny dress, and her most expensive jewellery, all to look like someone she wasn't.

Was it possible to feel joy and terror together? Her tummy would undoubtedly agree.

Twenty-six hours earlier, she'd heard his confession, egged on by Henry, Charlotte, and whatever ideas they'd cooked together. They were the words she'd waited nine years to hear - "I love you, (y/n) (y/l/n)" - and part of her still couldn't believe it. Whatever she'd done or said to deserve such sweet words was beyond her, but it was like the first rainfall after a drought.

She and Ray spent hours together long after the kids and Schwoz had left, talking, laughing, and making up for lost time. They planned the date as soon as possible, eager to get to know each other as boyfriend and girlfriend, not best friends. The sooner they could burn that label, the better because that made sense. They loved each other, and being friends limited that to secrets, lies, and heartache.

Friends didn't feel the way they did, so they thought to hell with it. Perhaps jumping in without any forethought was unwise, but it felt right the night before when Ray called and used his heroic influence to book a table in one of the city's most exclusive restaurants. Five stars, celebrity guest list, very high class - visited by the elite circles of the Swellview socialites.

It was the best place to go, so why was she dreading it so much?

A sudden sinking sensation crept up on her as she contorted and twisted her body to fit into that damned dress, which didn't feel so tight when she tried it on in the shop with Charlotte and Piper. She'd been in a rush to find something - anything - but she swore it didn't hug her tummy and show off the squishiness of her arms in the changing room.

Back then, it looked good--she looked hot--now, though, she felt silly, like a little girl playing grown-ups in her mother's gown. And those shoes, what was she thinking? She'd only had them on for fifteen minutes and was losing feeling in her toes, not to mention how the pins holding her hair up were digging into her scalp. Her makeup didn't go how she wanted it to because who can actually do a smoky eye without looking like a panda?

In short, she was just an average girl trying to be more than what she could give, but it was worth it if it impressed Ray. She had his love, but was that enough? He only knew Man Cave (y/n), the girl he worked with in the safety of those walls, not who she was when the world was watching.

What if they discovered wanting and loving were two entirely different things? What if nine years led to breaking things off because they mistook friendship for something more? It didn't bear thinking about.

Clutching her clutch bag for dear life as she wobbled on her heels, she watched Ray shut the door before he held out his hand for her in what must've been a rehearsed move. No one could be that perfect, and she prayed to God that he didn't pick up on how clammy her hands were as they laced their fingers together and started walking.

"So...what's this place like? I've never been," (y/n) asked nervously, desperately searching to fill the awkward silence between them--well, she perceived it as uncomfortable, unable to stand the click-clop of her heels against the concrete and nothing else.

God, she was having a heart attack. Ray swanned up to the building like he owned the place, looking every bit the sophisticated gentleman in his crisp, tailored suit whilst she tripped after him like a child. Even the front door looked like something she wasn't worth looking at, all gilded and fancy with a swooping white canopy and red carpet stretching before the heavy gold doors. Was it a restaurant or a palace?

"L'endroit Chic? It's the best place money can buy. Anything for my best girl," Ray grinned, squeezing her hand as he led her toward the scarlet carpet, where a man was waiting to check their reservation at the other end.

He wanted to impress her badly, even if he had to take out a bank loan by the night's end. He'd waited nine years for this chance to take her out and show her he could love her the way she deserved--more than any other man. If he had one night and one night only to convince her to choose him over all the other idiots in the world, no price was too much and no restaurant too fancy. So, he donned his best suit, groomed his hair to perfection, and prayed he didn't mess it up.

He wasn't sure if he could live with himself if he ruined the night, so he was putting his best foot forward, the one with all the experience. He wasn't proud of how many girls he'd dated, but at least he'd been on enough dates to know how to treat a girl right. All they'd ever wanted was the best money could buy, so that's where he started.

"Really?" (y/n) smiled, feeling butterflies in her stomach when he called her such sweet names, knowing now that he meant them in a way she'd only ever imagined. His affection eased some of her nervousness, although she couldn't help but gulp again as they reached the door, where a man in a sharp uniform and white gloves opened it for her.

Being a dashing gentleman, Ray let her enter first before placing his hand on the small of her back while they waited for the maître d'hôtel to greet them.

"Of course, sweet girl. I want this to be the best date you've ever had," he told her, gently kissing her forehead when she leaned into his embrace.

A swathe of fine diners ogled them from their tables, looking down their noses at the couple who'd just walked in, and whilst she knew it was none of their business, (y/n) felt her nerves swimming above her butterflies.

It was bad enough having an audience scrutinising her every move, but knowing that her doofus placed such high hopes on the date made her lick the lipstick off her lips. She hated disappointing him, but now she couldn't remember the difference between crockery and cutlery, which fork to use first, and if she was supposed to wait for everyone else to start eating. White wine with red meat or fish? Red wine with meat? Champagne? She wasn't good at any of this...

"Ah, good evening. Welcome to L'endroit Chic. Do you have a reservation, sir?" A tall gentleman with steely eyes, a trimmed moustache, and a distinguished air about him said, smoothly walking over to a thick book with rows of names scribbled down in a cursive hand. He looked at them politely as Ray cleared his throat and offered an equally charming smile, obviously more adept at this charade than she was.

"Yes, we do. It will be under the name Raymond Manchester."

"Mr Manchester...yes, I have you here. If you and the lady would follow me," the host told them courteously, his pristine, pressed trousers rasping as he briskly showed them into the dining room.

Well, he called it a dining room, (y/n) would call it a ballroom, feeling slightly nauseous as she gazed at the intimidating crowd. Enormous French windows framed by chintz drapes allowed the evening sunset to flood the room in warm, golden light that highlighted the gold-plated everything. The perfectly sculpted and coffered ceiling had intricate and beautiful designs carved into the plaster surrounding one of those Renaissance-style paintings of religious figures and cherubs on the highest panel. It looked like they'd resurrected Michelangelo to paint it, making (y/n) wonder how much this dinner would cost.

Now she felt terrible for Ray, who guided her to their immaculate table, a work of art with candles, flowers, expensive china, and a million knives and forks. Were they expecting an octopus for dinner? Who needed four sets?

"Allow me, darlin'," he cooed, nobly pulling her chair out for her--and in front of all the toffs, no less.

A few ladies seemingly approved of his gallant gesture. However, others disproved his colloquial tone as if his g-dropping was uncouth, making the girl gulp for the millionth time as she tried to sit down with grace, only to feel like a moron when her heel slipped, and she ended up thumping down. So much for being the bell of the ball, but at least Ray didn't notice--or he had the kindness not to mention it.

"Your menus... Sebastian will be your waiter tonight. He will be over momentarily for your wine and entrée selection. Have a good evening, sir, madam," the suave man said once Ray had taken his seat, looking just like a movie-star spy as he unbuttoned his jacket and relaxed into his plush chair.

The couple gratefully received their menus before the maître d'hôtel wandered off to con more rich schmucks into his palace to empty their accounts. (y/n) felt her fingers shake against the weighty object, which was more like a novel than a menu in its thick leather and velvet cover, hiding its endless glossy pages of fine food.

"Wow, you know a place is fancy when even the menus are wearing smoking jackets," she joked, stroking the outer cover, which probably cost enough to feed two people in an ordinary restaurant. It earned her a few snotty looks, perhaps because no one understood her childlike innocence and ability to find in-the-moment joy except for Ray.

"I know, right? Do you know what you're having?" He asked, eyes sparkling as he chuckled at her humour and how she petted the menu. How did he get her to fall in love with him? What did he do to earn such a privilege? If she was flying, he was falling - more and more in love with her after each second, and he didn't want to stop. He just hoped she felt the same.

Since he'd been before, he already knew what he wanted to have, preferably whatever was cheapest to save his crying wallet. Still, he wanted her to pick freely and not worry about the cost because he could provide for her - whatever she wanted was hers. He'd be the best boyfriend she ever had and make this a night to remember--the first of many, he sincerely hoped.

"Uh..." (y/n) paused, tearing her gaze away from the fine figure he cut across the table to look at her options. And there were a few--about three dozen or so, and they were just starters, or so she thought. It would've been easier to guess if she could read the squiggles, but she realised her eyesight wasn't failing after a closer look.

The menu was in fucking French - all bouillabaisse this and concombre a la menthe that. She could say I am on vacation, and my mother is large--school-grade French, but this was another level, startling her with the terrifying notion that she'd have to pick something and pray she liked it. There weren't any pictures either, probably because every snob there understood what a moules marinières was, so it would have to be a guess.

"Well..." she stalled, raking her eyes over the only squiggles she understood - the numbers next to every word. Dear God, it was expensive; gougères--whatever they were--were priced at seventy dollars, so she quickly moved on to try and find the smallest number. Coq au vin seemed cheaper, moderately labelled as forty dollars, which was as good as she would get, so that was the magic number.

"No idea what it is, but I'll have the Coq thing. Seems good enough."

"What about your appetiser? And your soup choice? And there's a salad in between that. Don't worry, sweet girl, you can have whatever you want," Ray told her gently, watching as her smile fell slightly as he threw the information at her. A knot formed in his stomach, tugging on his heart, suddenly making him nervous too.

He wasn't as stupid as people said; coq au vin was the cheapest meal on the menu. He knew because he wanted it too, hoping to avoid an eye-watering bill at the end, but that didn't mean he wanted her to be lumbered with peasant food. She could go for the two-hundred-dollar steak if she liked, and he wouldn't mind, although now he doubted if he'd said the right thing.

She didn't look as happy as before...he could feel the dread set in.

"And pudding at the end? Jeez, I hope they do doggy bags," (y/n) retorted as she closed the menu and placed it on the table. She'd eat anything as long as she could have a relaxing, intimate dinner with her newfound lover, although now she doubted if she'd said the right thing.

He didn't seem as happy as before...she could feel the horror set in.

"Are sir and madam ready to order their wine?" The tense moment was interrupted as a boyish man came forward in a neatly ironed pinny and jacket - he must be Sebastian, (y/n) guessed. He handed Ray a list of wines, none of which the man understood. Still, he pretended to read it like a connoisseur, humming and nodding in appreciation.

(y/n) watched in slight awe of the man, wondering and dreading where he learned about fine dining to understand about testing the bouquet, acidity levels, and such. Either he'd done his research, or he'd done this before, and given his knowledge of the restaurant, she'd wager it was the latter. But with who?

Her heart ached at the thought of him bringing someone else to the same table, sharing a coq or gougére over a fine bottle of red. Whoever taught him such refined etiquette obviously wasn't good enough; otherwise, they wouldn't be there. Knowing that she was another in a long line of girlfriends tugged on her heartstrings, wondering if they were destined to split because of some hidden incompatibility and if some other girl would take her place.

The thought broke her heart. No one said friendship or years of knowing each other counted for more than the spark he felt when dating those girls, even if he said he did it to get over her.

All the woman could think about was whether she should leave now and save herself the pain of losing him through boredom or a terrible argument. At least she could say she got her wish - a moment where Ray Manchester loved her.

"We'll have the Pinot Noir. Thank you..."

"Good choice, sir. I won't be a moment," Sebastian crooned before scurrying off, leaving the lovers awkwardly facing each other, looking for something to say. It was strange; in all the years they'd known each other, they'd never struggled to think of a conversation.

"You know a lot about this place..." (y/n) forced out, twitching her face into a polite smile, which Ray instantly hated. He thought she was beautiful and loved that she was smiling, but he hated that smile, primarily when directed at him.

It wasn't genuine; more like what she'd use with a rude customer or challenging criminal, not him--her best friend--no, boyfriend. Suddenly, it felt like all eyes were on him as she put him on the spot, and he knew instantly that something was wrong; she wasn't enjoying herself.

Her happiness didn't reach her eyes, and it was like the room turned frigid, turning his blood to ice because he was screwing it up. Like his worst nightmare come to life, he had his chance and was blowing it, and worse still, he was putting the sweetest soul through torture.

"I, uh--I've been here a few times before..."

"Oh, with who?" Kill her now. It was like (y/n) wanted to dig her grave, questioning who he'd treated to dinner here and professed his love to in the candlelight. She was clearly upsetting him, asking stupid, nosy questions that made him stare at the tablecloth and not into her eyes like he couldn't bear to look at her. Was this it? Was she losing him just like she knew she would?

"Just..erm...some friends...like...um--oh, the wine's here!" Ray exclaimed, feeling his heart drum in his ears as he tried to find a gentle way to tell her he brought one or two dates here before. It ended badly both times, with the girls swearing to cut off his...if he ever went near them again, and all because they sensed he was in love with someone else.

It was an excellent save, and if he wasn't in very polite company, he would've hugged Sebastian within an inch of his life as he brought over the bottle of expensive red wine--eighty dollars of juiced grapes. Nice. But at least (y/n) dropped the subject, feeling increasingly like she'd find herself single by tomorrow morning with each passing second.

"Oh, goodie..." she muttered, thinking she couldn't have a decent conversation with him because if it wasn't the tension between them, it was the awkward interruptions.

Burgundy liquid sloshed into crystal glasses as the waiter poured for them, ignorant of the nosediving date and how its participants wished they were back home. Things were more straightforward in the Man Cave, where neither one had to put on such airs and graces because there was no one to impress. Maybe they weren't the power couple the kids thought they were...

"I'll give you a few more minutes to decide on your food, and I'll be back."

"Thank you..." they said simultaneously like robots, steadily growing increasingly disenchanted with the evening. Not with each other, no way; if only they could find the right words, they'd say whatever and do anything to patch things up, but it looked pretty bleak.

Neither could think of anything to say, not a funny joke or witty conversation to stimulate the other. Maybe it would be different once the food arrived, but as Ray picked up his glass and sniffed it - because that's what they did in the movies - (y/n) didn't feel so hopeful. She didn't see how he'd want to take her out again, and in all her worst nightmares, she'd never imagined the worst date of her life would be with the man of her dreams.

It wasn't supposed to be like this - she was supposed to be a good girlfriend. What would Henry and Charlotte say when they returned? Ray said they gave it his best shot, but he couldn't stay with her? Poor Schwoz would have a breakdown--years of his life wasted because she couldn't be happy with what he gave her. What a shit show.

"Huh...I thought it would be white..."

"You know Pinot Noir is a red wine, right, doofus? Because of the grapes they use to make it," the woman chuckled, scraping a shred of amusement from the conversation when her boyfriend stared into his glass and analysed the liquid, which was much different from what he'd been expecting. It came out of nowhere, and he sounded so silly... there was the Ray she fell in love with.

"Well, why didn't he say that? Surely, wine is wine--I don't know what to pick when they give me a list. Why can't we just have soda?" Ray grumbled, not caring if an arrogant businessman across the way from them gave him a bored, disproving look for saying such a thing. His sweet girl looked at him in shock, having thought that he knew what he was doing when choosing a bottle, but apparently, he was still the doofus she'd always known him to be.

"You just picked the first one off the menu, didn't you?"

"Well..." Ray laughed nervously, too bashful to admit that he'd chosen the cheapest on the list, mainly because all wine tasted the same to him, no matter the price. He'd instead treat her to a fancy dinner than something she only drank because it was expected. However, he wasn't complaining that they finally had something to discuss.

"Don't lie to me, Raymond..." (y/n) told him jokingly, acting sternly, but the man was relieved to see the sparkle return to her eyes. The couple relaxed for the first time all evening, even if it was only slightly. It was difficult to calm down when the elite of Swellview society scrutinised their every move, but at least she was smiling.

"Oh, trust me, I could never lie to you, pretty girl. Not anymore..." he replied gently, and the girl felt her heart flutter and cheeks warm. She'd never get used to hearing him say such things--and romantically mean them--and it made her shyly look at the table in front of her.

"Doofus..." she muttered, not knowing how endearing and adorable she looked as she squirmed cutely and reached for her wine. Red or white, it didn't matter to her as long as it took the edge off her nerves, which had returned with a new vengeance. Now, she was nervous under his gaze, wondering if all the love in his eyes was meant for her.

"Sweet girl, look at me..." Ray told her, wanting to see her pretty eyes, looking into his - hoping she'd realise all he felt for her. But there lay the problem.

(y/n)'s eyes snapped up to his, taking her eye off her tall wine glass as her shaking fingers reached for it. As always, the minute she stared into those crystal blue pools, she was lost, wondering how they could be so clear, bright, and beautiful--how he could be so perfect. Ray, too, was lost in a trance, drawn to his sweet girl, so he didn't notice her trembling fingertips until it was too late.

They touched the glass, shaking a little too hard to realise their strength as they pushed it over, sending a cascade of deep ruby washing over the crisp, white cloth. The wine trickled across the table, seeping into whatever its red rivers touched, including Ray's freshly laundered suit as it rushed over the edge.

"Oh, shitshitshitshit!" (y/n) gasped, instantly mortified by her absentminded blunder, but there was nothing she could do. It wasn't a drop or little leak but a vast goblet that had tipped over, meaning she could dab at it all she wanted; the wine wouldn't come out. Her cheeks had gone from slightly warm to a humiliated scorching hot, feeling every pair of eyes in the room on her, whispering about the lowly peasant girl with the manners of a farmyard animal.

She couldn't do one thing right, behaving like a child at the table, causing chaos. Ray was mildly shocked by the cool liquid that hit his thighs, jumping out of his seat as their table was ruined. She could see it in his eyes, even though she refused to meet them, wanting nothing more than to run, hide and cry in her bed for spoiling what should've been a perfect evening.

"R-Ray--I--I'm--Oh, God--I'm so--s-sorry," she said, trying to mop up the alcohol with a napkin, brushing it over his stained suit, only to realise she was making it worse since the cloth was also soaked. She couldn't make a bigger mess of it if she tried, feeling so distraught that she didn't see the sympathetic stare he gave her.

"(y/n), it's okay. It was an accident--"

"No! It's not okay!" She wailed, wanting a hole to open up and swallow her as the snooty diners around them began to mutter and gossip about the juicy scene in front of them - dinner and a show.

If she couldn't drink a simple glass of wine gracefully, what hope did she have of completing the night properly? She'd probably spill her dinner down her dress or order the wrong dessert, anything to embarrass her doofus further. And she couldn't bear that thought - the knowledge she wasn't what he wanted.

"I'm supposed to--I'm--I just--I--I can't do this!" she gasped, fighting to control her emotions and remain calm and dignified, but with so many eyes on her, including Ray's concerned azure gaze, she just couldn't do it.

She was a fleer, not a fighter, and her instinct told her feet to take her away from the situation before she embarrassed herself further. Ducking her head down, she turned and bolted toward the exit, tears falling down her cheeks as she left Ray helpless at the table.

He stared after her, feeling like his world was crashing around him as she barged past the startled maître d' and some posh couple waiting to be seated. Of all the dates he'd ever had, this one had to be the worst, breaking his heart since he'd never imagined a date like this with his sweet girl. What did she think of him now? She'd probably break up with him on the spot once they got home, and all his dreams would be over.

Still, he wasn't one to go down without a fight. He'd win her affection again, beg for her forgiveness, and convince her that he could be a good boyfriend if it was the last thing he ever did. Without another thought, Ray yanked the wallet from his pocket and pulled a few bills out, letting them flutter to the table without thinking about the price. A hundred dollars was nothing compared to the promise of a life of happiness, so he left the stained table for Sebastian to sort out, chasing his sweet girl into the parking lot.

Running out of the restaurant most undignifiedly, Ray jogged towards the car - the fanciest he owned as Captain Man. He saw her leaning against the passenger side, wiping free-flowing tears away, smearing her mascara. She made a heartbreaking sight, slowing his steps because he wanted to patch things up, but he hadn't exactly worked out how, although he knew he had to do something. His poor darling girl looked miserable, shaking like a leaf with blotchy, sticky cheeks and staring at her shoes.

"(y/n)?" The man called out, squeezing his fingers tightly to control his nerves as she looked up, like a deer in headlights with her bottom lip wobbling. Oh, sweet girl...

"I--I'm sorry. I-I've ruined everything, haven't I?" She sniffed, tearing up again when their eyes met, mistaking his concern for harshness. Any minute now, he'd say the word, and she'd find herself single again, homeless, and starting again because he wanted her out after the humiliation she'd caused.

Ray looked at her softly, wanting nothing more than to wrap her in his arms and comfort her, but he didn't want to startle her. Taking a gentler approach, he cautiously walked up to her until he was reasonably close--within touching distance, so his cologne tickled her nose, comforting her like a hug as it enveloped her. He wasn't good at being soft and sensitive, but for her...he hated how fragile she looked.

"Not at all..." he replied, his hands shaking and reaching for hers as he debated how to approach everything, "it's all my fault, anyway."

"How can you say that, you doofus?! I--I spilt the wine, and I didn't know what to order--and I don't know French! A--And I don't look good, and I feel s--stupid in these stupid clothes--and--and everyone in there thinks you're dating a--a moron!"

"I don't give a damn what other people think..." Ray growled, throwing caution to the wind and stepping forward to cup her cheeks. Tilting her jaw up so she looked him in the eye, he sighed, suddenly feeling idiotic for placing so much pressure on her, thinking his sweet girl would be impressed by fancy food and gilded decor.

Whilst the city adored Captain Man, Ray Manchester wasn't the most popular guy around, appearing quite dorky and withdrawn with his shitty junk store and few friends. He didn't gain much social standing but didn't care because he had everything he needed with her and their little family. He'd learnt to ignore their judgement, and he certainly wasn't going to listen to anyone who said (y/n) was no good for him.

"Maybe we aren't meant to, y'know... There are plenty of girls you could date instead of me," the girl wailed, clutching her chest from the pain of losing him, but at least he wouldn't have to sit at a soggy table again.

"Do you honestly think I want another girl?" Ray asked, stroking his thumbs over her cheekbones as he stepped into her space. He didn't care if she was clumsy, shy, plain, or unrefined; she was still the smartest, prettiest, kindest girl he'd ever met.

"I love you, sweet girl."

"But I made a mess..." she sniffled, puffing her cheeks sadly when she remembered the conceited giggles echoing around the room as she tried to dab up the wine. Surely, it was enough to warrant his anger. However, Ray just sighed and pulled her into his chest, finally wrapping his arms around her trembling body like he'd wanted to all night.

Who was he kidding? Neither of them was suited to a stiff-upper-lip atmosphere, and he'd never had to impress her to earn any love when he was suffering as her best friend. Maybe they still were; the best start for two lovers is a solid friendship, so who said they had to stop being friends?

"So? I made the wrong choice tonight, darlin'. I wanted to impress you so bad, so I chose this place. But I made you uncomfortable with all the pressure. I'm so sorry, sweet girl..."

"It's okay, doofus. I wanted to impress you too... Don't want you to think you've got a crap girlfriend," (y/n) sniffed, wiping her cheeks dry as she snuggled into his chest, clutching his jacket's lapels whilst he petted her hair.

"You kidding me? You're my best girl. I'd never think that. I just...didn't want you to think I'm a crap boyfriend," Ray replied with a watery smile, kissing her forehead as they laughed sadly. This happened when they tried too hard, pushing to fit into a narrative that wasn't theirs, just some scripted setting that dictated how traditional couples behave. They'd waited nine years to date - who said anything about tradition?

"We're both pretty dumb, huh?" The woman joked, looking at him innocently, feeling at ease as he showered her hairline in soft kisses, promising his love over and over, despite the evening's lively events. Nothing came as a bigger relief than knowing he wasn't mad and she hadn't lost him, almost threatening to bring more tears as she relished his touch.

"Nah... We just want to do this properly," he replied, keeping her close since his heart was also thumping from the fear of almost losing her, not that she was going anywhere now. Still, he loved feeling how small she was in his arms and how she pushed her arms under his jacket to loop around his lithe waist and pull him closer - his precious, pretty girl.

"So, how about I take you to that burger place off the freeway? The one with the curly fries you love so much..."

"Can we get ice cream after, too?" (y/n) asked, fluttering her eyelashes as if she had to beg. Little did she know, but she had Ray wrapped around her little finger, and if she wanted ice cream, he'd buy out the entire joint, anything to make his sweet girl happy. Going to a greasy, dirty fast food place in the fanciest clothes they owned seemed a little ridiculous. Still, honestly, they never noticed what others said when they were together.

Instead, it sounded like the best date imaginable to her, so when her doofus offered her his arm, she wasted no time slipping hers through his and leaning up to kiss his cheek.

"Course, darlin', but only if I get another kiss as payment..." Ray grinned, opening the door for her like any gentleman would as their feeling of love bloomed again.

"If I remember correctly, you got more than a kiss," (y/n) smirked as she rested on Ray's chest. A comfortable silence fell over them as they recalled the minor disaster that was their first date, bodies swaying gently to silent music.

The hero stroked her head and kissed the top of her head, quietly thankful that she'd been gracious enough to give him a second chance all those years ago.

He didn't know what he was thinking; they'd never needed to splash their cash to have a good time, which was proven when they bought the greasiest, tastiest burgers and ate them in a car full of laughter and love. He even bought her an ice cream cone, which (y/n) took great delight teasing him with when she licked the runny, sticky mess melting down her wrists in the warm summer air. Oh, how she loved to tease him...and Ray loved falling into her traps.

"You started it, sweet girl. I just put those pretty lips to better use," he remarked, sliding his hand down her silky back to her ass, grabbing and pulling at her flesh. She whined, thumping his chest for ruining the sweet moment with his typical horniness, but Ray just laughed and gave her butt a quick, soft spank.

"Doofus, I'm tired!"

"I can change your mind..." he gloated, nipping at her jaw and neck to get her into bed, but not how (y/n) planned to. His lips felt heavenly, moving against her pulse point with learned expertise, seducing her in seconds. But the second her eyelids fluttered closed, she realised how heavy they felt, begging to let her snuggle with her doofus, not roll around the sheets.

"Oh, yeah. Mr Silver Tongue over here..." she snorted, although her hand didn't move from the top of his head, keeping him firmly tucked into her neck, not that Ray minded. He could stay there all day, tasting her skin, making her whimper and hum in appreciation of his talents, but he couldn't ignore the banter. He had a reputation to uphold...

"Excuse me, darlin', but I can make you melt with this silver tongue."

"Uh-huh, sure..." the woman retorted, not knowing whether that was double-entendre as she scratched his scalp, and he pulled her hips closer.

Her breath hitched at the feeling of something pressed against her hip. Still, she remained focused, refusing to lose her mind to his wandering hands and stupidly skilful seduction techniques. Ray was good at getting what he wanted, and she was good at indulging him, yet she had a few tricks up her metaphorical sleeve - and a good memory.

"Have you forgotten my last birthday party? It was like sitting with Shakespeare..."

"That was Henry's fault, not mine... And Jasper's... And I think Schwoz was there too," Ray grumbled, lamenting and treasuring the night since he'd been surrounded by his family. His traitorous, scheming family betrayed and purged him of all his secrets when he was vulnerable, much to (y/n)'s amusement as she ended the night spoon-feeding him cake and kisses.

"Yeah, shocking how you willingly drank every beer bottle they pushed in front of you. You were paralytic by the time I got to you..."

"(y/n/n), don't be mad..."

"See, whenever you say that, I immediately get mad," the woman giggled as she peeked out from underneath a blindfold, which Piper had crudely tied around her head in a simple bow.

The woman wasn't actually mad. She couldn't be, not on a day like today. Her thirty-third birthday. The big three-three. And this was the best one yet, for the simple reason that everyone she loved, called family, and adored was celebrating it with her.

Ray, Schwoz, Piper, Charlotte, Jasper and Henry had thrown a little surprise party for her, saying the sweetest girl on the planet deserved a little R&R once the emergency calls stalled for a few hours. It wasn't a big affair, just a few streamers, some bunting and confetti, a made-to-order cake from the bakery down the street, a small buffet, a piñata, and some whacky party hats. Like a child's party with fun, laughter, and larking about, they played some music and relaxed for the first time in days.

After passing out the presents, including an expensive perfume set from Piper and Charlotte, a rom-com box set from Jasper, a book on engineering mathematics from Schwoz, a succulent houseplant collection from Henry, and a pair of simply exquisite diamond earrings from Ray, the night died down. The girls were near the elevator, where Schwoz had hung the piñata for them to take turns whacking and talking about girl things whilst the boys slumped on the sofa, talking about boy things.

They passed around the beers and sodas to the sounds of the girls' shrieking laughter and jokes about how Charlotte was just assaulting the air and not the cardboard donkey. Ray watched his sweet girl with soft eyes, thinking she'd never looked prettier in her cute party dress, and it gave his friends the perfect excuse to keep passing him drinks without him even counting them.

All Ray knew was that he'd really struck gold when he met (y/n), droning on and on about the things about her once he'd necked his fifth - or seventh? - beer.

"I mean, look at her!" He slurred as he clumsily pointed at his fiancée, who was thankfully busy beating a candy-filled donkey to death with a silk tie around her eyes, so she couldn't see the state she was in.

"I'm so in love with her..."

Jasper and Henry exchanged glances, laughing when their usually confident and controlled boss sighed and rested his head on Schwoz's shoulder, smushing his cheek against the perturbed genius almost lovingly. They clinked their bottles together victoriously, knowing (y/n) would nag their ears off if she caught them sipping their illicit drinks instead of soda. Still, Ray was so out of it that he didn't even notice. One beer each wouldn't hurt...and they wouldn't miss his unrestrained, loose-lipped performance for anything.

However, as funny as beer made Ray, they didn't expect it to make him so...leaky. Not in a gross way or anything, but as he swallowed another gobful, he began rambling again, choking up even when he was talking about nice things. Her hair, for example, was so soft that he cried at the thought of (y/n) going for a haircut—or how pretty her lipstick made her features look. What would he do once it rubbed off?

It was hilarious to watch, but a stab of panic rose in the boys when a scream of delight sounded across the room. Tearing their gaze away from Ray, Henry and Jasper gulped as they saw the woman standing proudly over a candy mountain with Piper and Charlotte cheering her on and swiping sweets. Thank God she was still blindfolded, but someone would have to tell her why her beloved doofus was poking Schwoz's cheek like it was the funniest thing in the world.

Seriously, Ray never got drunk, and he was a handful sober. So, swallowing his pride - and another sip of his swiped beer - he tiptoed over to the girls, hoping his boyish charm would win over his surrogate big sister when he tapped her on the shoulder.

"What have you done?" She asked suspiciously, shaking and patting her mussed hair down after pulling the blindfold over her head to look at the kid. He looked sheepish, standing there shuffling his feet and giggling nervously. She wasn't mad...yet.

"Who says I did anything?" He shot back, trying to be tough and cocksure, even though he'd come over to her amid her candied victory. (y/n) folded her arms and raised an eyebrow, giving him her dryest, most unimpressed stare possible as he dithered and debated divulging his slip-up.

"Henry Prudence Hart..."

"It was Jasper and Schwoz, too!" He caved. Henry hated it when she used his full name and even more when she looked at him like he'd disappointed her. It wasn't so bad if they took the fall together, although someone should've said that to his co-conspirators, who were merely victims of circumstance.

"Dude!"

"Ouch..." Schwoz whined, folding his arms grumpily as the sidekick dragged him into their problem when all he'd been doing was quietly sipping his Sex on The Beach cocktail and ignoring Ray and his drunkness. They were plying him with alcohol, swapping empty bottles for full ones and taking a few for themselves--like he didn't notice how giggly Jasper had grown, laughing at the slightest thing.

"Just tell me what you've done, Hen!" (y/n) exclaimed, wanting to know what they'd done that was so horrific that she couldn't fill her face with sugary snacks like Charlotte and Piper were doing. Nothing would be left soon, and she was anxious to swipe a piece of candy until Henry stepped aside, revealing the scene on the couch.

"What the..."

"Hey--sw--sweet girl! Pr-pr-preeetty girl!" Ray hiccuped when their eyes met, his face breaking into a drunken grin at seeing his perfect girl looking so lovely. She stared at him with fascination and horror, unable to remember the last time he got drunk, but even then, she vaguely remembered him being a handful. He looked stupid, swaying from side to side, humming and daydreaming about God knows what, making her wide eyes slide to Henry.

"What did you do?!"

"Um, well...Ray's drunk," Henry said simply, shoving his hands deep in his pockets as Charlotte and Piper stopped eating Sherbert to stare at their boss. Suddenly, the teens burst into laughter, howling as their snooty boss went to put his chin on his hand, only to miss and jerk forward to stop himself from hitting the table. He was a mess...but at least he was as in love as ever.

"No shit! I can see that. How much has he had to drink?" (y/n) questioned exasperatedly, massaging her temples in anticipation of the migraine she'd get taking care of her doofus in the morning. Had they ever seen a hungover Ray?

"One or two...packs," the kid muttered before scampering back to the table, ducking and weaving in case the woman chose to throw a chair at his head. He slumped onto the couch again, muttering to Jasper that they'd possibly made a mistake as the woman told her friends to eat whatever candy they wanted because she had to babysit her intoxicated doofus. Although she took a lollipop as her share of the kill.

"Sweet cheese...doofus, are you all right?" She called out as she moved to the couch, smiling sweetly at her lover as he looked up at her through bleary eyes.

It was like an angel descending from the heavens before him, showering him with divine light as she sat beside him and clutched his bicep. Ray babbled in response, pushing Schwoz away in favour of the beauty fluttering her eyelashes at him so sweetly. Who was the angelic creature, and what did she want with the likes of him?

"You--you're pretty. Ha--have I ever told y-you that?" Ray stammered, slurring his words as he clumsily brushed his fingers over her face, pulling at her cheeks and prodding her nose. If he could see straight, he'd scold himself for not saying it a thousand times, but the angel made him tongue-tied, especially when she giggled.

"You've mentioned it once or twice," (y/n) laughed, relaxing into his embrace as he stretched a muscled arm around her head to rest on the back of the couch. He looked ridiculously hot in his tight, short-sleeved shirt, so, coupled with his awkward flirting, it was no wonder she blushed - the greatest gift she could've given her doofus.

He laughed with her like a schoolgirl, childishly proud to have made her smile, and he was glad to know that she knew of her beauty. It was like he was connected to her, feeling an emotion between them that he couldn't explain whilst his synapses threw a salsa party in his brain, ignorant of the screaming facts and memories that this was his sweet girl, not an angel. Well, not a literal angel, anyway.

"Good...go-od. 'Cause it's true, y'know? You--you're very pretty. Lit-literally the prettiest pretty person that ever...that ever...prettied."

"And you're the doofiest doofus that ever doofed," (y/n) replied jokingly, putting her thumb over his bottle's mouth when he went to have another swig. Ray pouted at her actions, wanting more go-go juice, but (y/n) already feared how difficult it would be to get him in bed. Knowing her luck, he'd probably fall asleep on top of her, so it was best to start sobering him up now, even if it made him pouty.

Still, Ray didn't sulk for long. He was quickly distracted by her general prettiness, petting her hair like she was a dog. To his joy, his angel seemed to enjoy it, sighing contently and leaning into his cologne-coated torso.

"Wow, you really think so? I'm honoured..." he grinned as if he'd just won an award, and really, her stamp of approval was as coveted.

"Sure. You're my favourite doofus in the whole wide world. It's why I lo--"

"H-hey, are you...single?" (y/n) blinked in surprise when he interrupted, the question coming out of nowhere. It was so stupid, but entirely Ray's style, delivered with his typical brazenness and confidence as he stretched into the plush couch and smirked at her - a wobbly but convinced grin that she'd reciprocate the attraction he felt.

"What?" She gasped, needing a minute to let it sink in, her shocked, wide eyes and open mouth finding Henry and Jasper's as the boys laughed.

They sat back and watched the show, nursing their stolen beers as their boss chatted up his fiancée like she wasn't already his. Sure, (y/n) loved when he flirted, constantly firing back with her alluring wit, which led to electricity and choked gasps behind closed doors. However, she'd never expected him to get so drunk that he forgot everything between them confessing and getting engaged. And not like when he genuinely forgot everything; this was her Ray, but he couldn't work out his jumbled mind.

"Are y-you single? Y'know, pretty girly like you, a handsome guy like me--we--we'd make adorable babies," Rizzmaster Ray explained, poking her clavicle with his pudgy finger, which lacked any dexterity or finesse, so it made her ribs ache for a split second. However, she didn't notice it as he tickled under her chin whilst Henry and Jasper roared harder.

Talk about a smooth operator; where was this rizz when he was pining for her? Maybe they should've just gotten him drunk all those years ago, and perhaps he'd have asked her out quicker because he was shameless, waggling his eyebrows at her as (y/n) sat back with scorching cheeks. Babies? She was broody enough as it was...

"Um, well..." she stammered, trying to snap her brain back into action and think of a response. But after a few seconds, she realised the fun she could have with his flirtatious mood, believing they'd both laugh about it in the morning. So, she crossed one leg over the other and turned to her lover to properly face him and his soulful crystal blue eyes.

"I'm not, I'm afraid. As you can see, I'm happily engaged," (y/n) told him, elegantly producing her left hand for him to inspect, where the ring he'd picked still diligently sat on her finger. The effect was instantaneous; Ray's face fell in the light of the sparkling jewels, pure anguish crumpling his face as the news hit him. He was too late - his angel had been taken.

"To--to be married?!"

"Well, yeah..."

"Noooooo!" The hero wailed, throwing his head back like a petulant child as hot tears pooled in his eyes and streaked down his cheeks. Henry and Jasper coughed to hide their laughter but failed, earning a stern glare from (y/n) as she tried to soothe the hero to no avail. Ray sobbed as the boys cackled, knowing they would never let him forget how he cried like a baby.

His disappointment and heartache were indescribable, making him sob and blubber at the thought of the gorgeous girl holding his arm marrying someone else. Their babies would be hideous, and she deserved adorable babies...his babies. And worse still, he still wanted her, despite knowing she was a taken lady - his attraction and yearning were undeniable.

"Ray... Calm down, it's not that big of a deal," (y/n) chuckled, not expecting such a strong reaction as he thumped his clenched fists on the table.

His body shook from the sobbing, tears dripping off his nose when he suddenly lurched and grabbed her, pulling his sweet girl into his lap so he could keep her forever. Just for a bit of eternity so he could get his fill; the loser marrying her could wait for that, surely.

"Yes, it--is!" he hiccuped, stabilising her on his knee as she stroked his cheek - a tender touch for someone marrying another. And to his shame, Drunk Ray wanted more, his soul calling for her to love him, even if it was just for a second.

"W-what am I supposed to do n--now?! You--you're--it's not fair! I saw you first!"

"I'm sorry, but he asked me first," (y/n) told him gently, fitting into his embrace perfectly as he cradled her like it was for the last time. She smiled at him, pecked his cheek, and wiped away his tears, ignorant to how Charlotte and Piper had joined Henry and Jasper, laughing when they sneakily snapped a photo of the silly lovebirds.

"Do you love him?" Ray asked with a sniff, his tears slowing, but his eyes stayed sad and Eeyore-like. He'd accept it eventually, but knowing he'd tasted heaven and felt the angel's lips against his skin would leave a lasting mark. His longing was so bad that he knew he'd never love again...

"Yes, I do. Very much--more than anything," (y/n) replied, pushing a stray hair back into his neatly styled hair before dragging her knuckles down his clean-shaven cheeks. It was possible to put her love into words... there wasn't an adjective worthy enough in the dictionary.

Ray huffed, feeling bitterness and jealousy burning underneath the fuzzy haze that clouded his vision, but he couldn't do anything. Anyone who earned his crush's affection had to be remarkable, and he longed to meet them, even if it was only to stab them in the back while shaking their hand... They couldn't be that good.

"Who is he?"

"You really wanna know?" (y/n) teased him, booping his nose as she grinned. If thinking she was marrying someone else made him cry; she couldn't wait to see what he did when it was revealed he was the lucky man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.

"Yeah, te--tell me, sweet girl," Ray nodded furiously, practically on the edge of his seat as she drifted her lips up to his ear, teasing his skin on the journey. It was like she knew what she was doing, silently driving him crazy as he tried to stamp down his lust for the spoken-for angel.

"Are you sure?"

"Y-yes! Tell me!" The hero slurred, jumping up and down in anticipation of finding out who the mystery man was. Then, all he'd need to do was pay his house a little visit, send him on a one-way trip, and maybe the pretty girl would like him then. He leaned in close, eyes fluttering closed as her warm breath rolled down his neck, lips pressed to his cheek and neck when he shuffled.

"Okay..." (y/n) giggled, squirming on his lap, making Ray clench her hips even tighter before she settled and stopped teasing him. It was time to put the man out of his misery, even though she found his drunken pouting adorable.

"I'm in love with...you!"

"Me?!" Ray gasped, clasping his hands over his mouth like a surprised child as (y/n) pulled back and laughed. His wide eyes were almost comical, but the ecstatic grin on his face melted her more than anything. Seeing how happy her love made him was endearing, leaving the man bouncing with happiness as he squeezed her tightly, never wanting to let the angel go again.

What did he do to deserve such an honour? She hugged him back with equal passion, petting his silky hair as he buried his nose in her neck, soaking up her intoxicating floral scent. His mind clouded over again, her shampoo mixing with his tipple to blur his mind even more, but all Ray could think about was that she loved him. Him. It was like a blessing...

"For real?! Me?!"

"Yeah, doofus. You. I'm in love with you," (y/n) nodded gently, sealing her promise with a soft kiss. Ray practically moaned into her mouth, moving against her with none of his usual finesse and skill since he was so out of it, and all she could taste was beer. Still, the heroine didn't care, enjoying his pillowy lips against hers as Ray crushed her into his chest, hating the idea of the most perfect kiss in the world ending.

"I'm in lo--love with you, too--sweeeeetie--sweet angel," he muttered as they broke apart for air, his clammy forehead resting against hers as (y/n) pecked his lips a few more times before retreating.

She laughed at his silly nicknames, lovingly stroking his face with the same affection she always had. However, she guessed it might be different in the morning. Still, she'd look after him, anything for her beloved doofus, who was contemplating congratulating himself for winning such a beautiful girl, taking her to bed, or staying on the couch to let her keep loving him.

Yeah, the last one sounded good...very good, and they could do bedtime things later.

"Marry me? Ma--ma--marry me, sweet g-girl? I promise I'll love you foreverrrrrrrr..."

"Of course, Raymond. I already said yes, didn't I?" (y/n) told him, pinching his cheek as she waggled her left hand before his eyes, highlighting the beautiful ring he'd given her.

A flicker of recognition passed through Ray's eyes, and he broke out into a bright grin as if he remembered getting down on one knee. He squeezed his girl again, squealing in delight at seeing heaven without entering it - he would experience it every day in married life with her.

"You guys are so gross. You know that, right?" Henry grumbled from across the table, making the couple snap out of their love haze to look at the boy...and everyone listening in.

To their shock, the boy, Jasper, Piper, Charlotte, and Schwoz were huddled together, smirking and snivelling at them with smug faces, and whilst Drunk Ray didn't care, kissing up his sweet girl's neck, (y/n) knew they'd been staring the whole time. She steeled herself for a moment, fighting the heat threatening to splash across her cheeks before turning to her fellow sidekick, possibly the smuggest of the lot.

She'd soon see about that.

"I'm not dumb, Henry. I could smell the beer on your breath the minute you tapped me on the shoulder. You know that, right?" She bit back, and suddenly, it wasn't her cheeks with the fire.

Henry's face turned bright red under the jeers of his friends. He and Jasper pushed their bottles away, knowing the woman would give them one of her famous glares if they drank anymore. As Ray hugged her close, (y/n) laughed with her friends, feeling like they were more like her family with each joke, story, and slice of cake they shared.

It was the best birthday she'd ever had.

The memory faded as a squeal ripped from (y/n)'s throat, her eyes crinkling and mouth opening in ecstasy as Ray trailed his lips down her neck, pressing kisses and blowing raspberries against her skin. He chuckled against her skin as she squirmed from the ticklish sensation, pretending to push him away, even though it was impossible with his iron grip on her waist.

She knew what he was doing, trying to distract her from a well-made point because he knew she was right. Accidentally allowing two teenagers to get him drunk and forgetting the love of his life was pretty tragic, and his headache the next day almost killed him. Still, he could try and seduce his way out of it...maybe.

"I was right, though. You are pretty," he flirted, rubbing his nose against hers since he knew it made her melt. But (y/n) wouldn't be beaten in her quest for sleep, and her point was right. Righter than his; he didn't get out of bed all day after that night, and she had to rub his back when he ate some leftover cake and spent the afternoon throwing up.

"So was I. You're the silliest, densest doofus I've ever met but the worst drunk I've ever had to put to bed," she giggled, chastely kissing his cheek as the man pouted. He had hands like an octopus, appearing out of nowhere, even when she pushed them off, gave him a glass of water, and tucked him in. And Drunk Ray was also Horny Ray turned up to ten, and he was already a nightmare when sober, as she realised when he returned to her throat.

"You're lucky I love you."

"I know. I'm the luckiest man in the universe," Ray cooed, squishing her butt like Play-Doh. Only he could be the most romantic man with his hands full, steadily backing her toward the bed with little micro-steps. The minute she hit the mattress, it'd be a lucky dip whether she threw caution to the wind and pulled him into her arms or if her eyes closed the second she felt the pillow under her head.

"And yet you won't get lucky tonight. I want to sleep, doof. We can play grown-ups in the morning."

"You mean sex, right?" He asked, looking comically serious as his hands returned to her hips--safe ground, despite his initial interest. But he wasn't so full of himself that he couldn't take no for an answer, knowing that he could happily snuggle up with his sweet girl and wait for her to be wide awake in the morning - when she'd feel and receive everything clearly.

"What else would I mean, you doofus?"

"I don't know, you said play grown-ups. Y'know, taxes, the nine-to-five, mortgage repayments. All exciting stuff..." Ray joked, waggling his eyebrows as if a boring, adult life was as entertaining as his plan for the night, even though he could barely adult to save his life.

(y/n) rolled her eyes and slapped his pec, although she failed to hide her bemused grin. He was so silly, she couldn't help but laugh but busied herself by turning and walking to her side of the bed. Ray silently congratulated himself for getting a smile out of her before copying her movements, sliding the watch off his wrist and dumping it on his bedside table next to his favourite photo of her - the one he looked at every night before going to sleep.

Meanwhile, (y/n) plugged their phones in to charge, knowing her doofus always forgot if she didn't do it for him, then moved on to slide off her engagement ring. Her lover watched with a slight pout, wishing she didn't have to take it off, but the woman insisted, wanting it to stay perfect and undamaged, so into her ring dish, it went.

"Come on, darlin'. The sooner we sleep, the sooner we can play grown-ups," Ray sighed, crawling into bed after pulling the comforter back. He flopped onto the mattress, lying on his back as he waited for her to get into bed because lord knows he wouldn't drift off until they were locked in the sweetheart's cradle.

"Okay, okay, I'm coming," (y/n) replied, hurriedly changing their alarm to one hour earlier--accommodating their new plans. He wouldn't let her forget that; every couple had a cute little nickname for it, and Ray knew he'd found his - playing grown-ups. The woman followed him, happily sliding beside him after shutting off her phone, shuffling as close as possible until her leg slung over his hips.

"You're so needy, doofus. Like a puppy..."

"Am not," Ray argued as he embraced her, encouraging her to snuggle down and rest her head on his chest. Maybe he liked to follow her around, taste her skin, fetch whatever she wanted, whine when she disappeared, and bark at anyone who came too close - all with a Labrador-like energy - but he wasn't needy. Or puppy-like. At least not out loud.

"Are too."

"Am not!" They bickered, poking each other like children trying to outsmart the other. Ray hated admitting he couldn't be without her because it sounded so pathetic, like all the guys he used to mock for being love-addled morons. Was he dog-like?

Still, despite how much it irked him, he wouldn't push her away for anything; instead, he only squeezed her tighter - a small warning for her to sleep before he implemented some teasing tomorrow morning.

"Oh, yes, you are, Raymond. Remember when I went to that family reunion a few months ago?" (y/n) chuckled. However, her voice was rougher as a wave of tiredness washed over her, forcing her to fight sleep because she wanted to win. His warmth always made her sleepy, and how his hand stroked her back didn't help, exploring her soft slip and shoulder blades, coaxing her into nodding off.

"I came back, and you were a mess..."

"I lasted for four days. That's impressive. Y'know, given how grown-up we are," The hero replied, kissing her forehead as he remembered the utter agony of going to bed without her each night. He'd gotten so used to holding her his arms had felt empty, and then he had no one to talk to except for children and a bald weirdo. And, he had to...entertain himself, and even then, he couldn't bring himself to go solo.

Okay, maybe he was needy. But who could blame him when the centre of his universe, the light of his life, the one person he needed to live, left him for a week?

"Yeah, and all the time I was gone, you refused to tell me you were struggling, silly doofus," (y/n) whispered, tracing her fingernail on his chest, making Ray shudder. Silence settled between them for a few seconds, the man not knowing what to say because, annoyingly, she was right. Like always.

"I would've come home straight away if I knew you were missing me the way I was missing you..."

Beep...Beep...Beep.

"Hey, doofus..." Ray sighed in relief when a teasing, chirpy voice came through his phone's speaker. Call him desperate, but when he was left hanging for nine, faint beeps, panic and uncertainty bubbled in his tummy.

This was the highlight of his day. He woke in the morning, heart aching and body weak, wandered the Man Cave aimlessly, struggled through the day, barely ate, and waited restlessly until about ten when his beloved fiancée tended to call. Without fail, she phoned on the dot, always the first because he wanted her to come to him, save he interrupted something important.

It was his fault she never saw her family. He demanded that she stuck to him like glue all year, infinitely needing her by his side as both Miss Danger and her lovely, perfect self. Perhaps it made him selfish, but (y/n), as sweet as ever, never complained about her lack of vacation days, so he never pushed the subject. Until she received the email he dreaded every year...

Family reunion...hometown...a week...bring that young man of yours.

He would've loved to go--would've used the Man-Copter to fly them there or booked the fanciest private jet if that was what it would take. But Captain Man doesn't take breaks. Maybe he could leave if it was just him, but there was no way Henry could cope by himself, fighting criminals and fixing problems without a partner. It would be irresponsible to let him get pulverised.

Ray grinned and gritted his teeth as he cheerfully escorted his girl into her taxi, growling at the terrified guy behind the wheel to get her to the airport safely...or else.

The first day wasn't bad. He could keep himself busy with all the jobs he'd been putting off for ages.

The second also wasn't horrible. He could throw himself into his work, punching his feelings out on whichever criminal was unfortunate enough to cross his path.

When the third day came around, he was a mess. Ray got out of bed feeling low, like his surplus, honey-fuelled energy had depleted, and he was now running on empty. Suddenly, the waffles Schwoz kindly made for breakfast didn't seem so appetising, and fighting crime didn't have the same adrenaline...because he looked to his right, and his sweet girl wasn't there.

That led to where he was now, slumped on their bed with a nest of pillows and a twisted duvet curled around him from where he'd wrestled to get comfy and failed. After living with her for so long, he'd grown too used to having a precious girl asleep on his chest; nothing felt right. The blankets made him too warm, so he threw them off. But then, he was cold.

So, he donned his shitty robe and laid there, PearPhone tucked into his neck for when she called. And waited, and waited, and waited, nose sniffing the pillow he spritzed with her perfume after it began to lose her scent. Maybe she wouldn't call tonight...but he really hoped she would. Hearing her voice was the one thing telling him to keep pushing until the day they reunited.

"Hey, sweet girl," he rasped, his world exploding in colour and emotion when he finally heard her voice. It was almost impossible to calm his excitement. Still, the hero replied with his usual rumbling baritone, albeit with a Captain Man edge - otherwise, he'd scream at her.

"Whatcha doing?" (y/n) asked, not caring if he'd done the most mundane things like trouser shopping or golf. After a day of putting up with her nosy aunts, tormenting cousins, and other insufferable relations, she desperately wanted to hear his voice, not that she'd let him know that.

Back before they dated, it wasn't so bad. Ray was just Ray - Best Friend Ray - and no matter how much they teased her, no one could make her miss the brown-haired, dreamy-eyed man she thought about at dinner. Then they got together, and she realised parting wasn't sweet sorry. Absence caused her heart to grow lonelier, not fonder, but her twisted, nagging gut worried that he'd laugh if she said I miss you.

What was four days apart? Practically nothing, and they spent every hour of every day together for the rest of the year anyway. Ray was undoubtedly fine and dandy, rolling with life as usual with a few passing thoughts about her in the evening when she was most lonesome. A simple phone was the highlight of her day, more than any celebration or big party.

"Nothing much. Just scrolling through some TV channels... You?"

"Yeah, same," she replied lamely, not knowing what to say. Most of their conversations came from their surroundings, what they'd experienced together, or physical cues. She could neither touch nor see him, so she became dull, scrambling for something more interesting than her cousin's new Merc or the restaurant they went to.

Yeah was a good word. She used it a lot, agreeing with whatever he said - if it made him talk more to soothe her soul.

"How's your day been?" Ray asked, smacking his forehead for saying something so...dumb. That was the third night he'd repeated that question on the trot, and whilst (y/n) didn't notice a thing, jumping into her activities after breakfast, he loathed himself. Was there any wonder she was a whole five minutes late tonight?

"Well--"

"Oh, I know that well," he chuckled, hearing the mildly pissed-off note in her voice and the small breath intake that indicated a mini-rant could grumble all day if she wanted; Ray would hang on to every word like it was gospel.

"There was an argument at lunch about whether the napkins were cream or yellow."

"Which did you pick?" He asked coyly, laughter and happiness feeling like old friends as they flooded his body. She didn't know how much he missed her.

"Neither. They're napkins, so who cares? Anyway, then we had a barbecue later on--I swear, I'm gonna be a hundred pounds heavier when I come back," (y/n) joked, enjoying her family recipes and all the eating out. Still, she had a super-suit to fit in, unbeknownst to everyone else stuffing their faces.

She didn't mean to be such a downer. If Ray had been with her, maybe she would've picked a side during the napkin war and not thrown one in someone's face, shouting if they could see the correct shade. Either way, she wouldn't have faced any embarrassing questions about her private life, like if she was so lovesick, where was her Romeo?

"You'll still be beautiful," Ray flirted, feeling his usual rizz creeping back in as his anxiety dipped for the first time in hours. He'd missed his silver tongue and happily complimented her after hearing a little self-deprecation in her voice. He wouldn't have that, not when she was perfect - more to love.

"Hush, silly doofus," she gently scolded him, but despite being thousands of miles away, (y/n) knew he'd hear her bashfulness and picture her flaming cheeks.

"Then, my Uncle Dickhead turned up with his new piece--Candy or something. Box-bleached hair, eyelashes like spider legs, red lipstick, mini-skirt, y'know, shouting about how he's still in the family after the divorce. And then, there was a fight. Like there always is."

"Who won?" Ray asked, scratching his neck, where his growing stubble itched his skin. After refusing a shower that morning...and yesterday morning...and the night she left, he felt sticky and dirty, but he didn't care how much Schwoz complained. He wasn't washing his face because it would remove the final traces of her goodbye kisses.

"Take a wild guess. One balding, cranky man amid a midlife crisis versus a small army of over-protective, borderline insane old women rallying around their youngest sister. You do the math, doof," (y/n) said, raking an eye of her nails as she pulled the old-fashioned rotary phone onto her bed, wrapping a finger in the curly cord as she spoke.

The scene made her feel like a film star, lying on her tummy in her childhood room, wearing a satin dressing gown over one of his pilfered t-shirts are pyjamas. She wouldn't admit it, but she'd discreetly squirted his cologne on it, wanting to be wrapped in his scent every night like usual.

Charlotte had told her to use Face Call thingy, video chatting so they could see each other. Still, the couple were antiquated in romance, preferring the old ways like in her beloved rom-coms. She'd be on the first flight home if she saw his tanned, toned, muscular body.

"You know I'm no good at math, darlin'. I much prefer to watch you do it," the hero replied smarmily, imagining how sexy she was with her concentrating face and swirling pencil.

"What about you? Been busy?" (y/n) smiled, shaking her head before he tainted the pristine conversation with his smuttiness. Strangely, nothing new happened in her absence. Still, she liked to hear how everyone was doing, missing Schwoz's antics and her dear babies nearly as much as her doofus.

"Not really."

"No missions?"

"Not really."

"Any fights?"

"Not really." It was like listening to a stuck record, her interest waning the more he put her off. Ray didn't mean to kill the conversation with his dreariness, hearing her pause for a few seconds with nothing to say. Still, honestly, there'd been nothing interesting enough to tell her. Not compared to what she'd been doing.

He bit his lip, feeling stupid and useless at how they'd been comfortable, only for him to ruin it. He raked a hand over his tired, unwashed face, cringing at the feel of his greasy skin and rough stubble. The lack of sleep was catching up on him, but he wouldn't say goodbye early - he hated hanging up at all.

"Ray, is everything all right?" (y/n) asked quietly, nervously tangling the phone cord in her fingers as his minimal responses increased, blocking her from finding out what was happening at home. Henry and Charlotte's texts made everything seem cheery and rose-tinted, but now she wasn't sure. Surely, it couldn't be that boring, could it?

"'Course. Why wouldn't it be?" He replied vaguely, snapping into a more focused mood since she could smell a rat. His girl was clever and too kind for her own good, so it was no wonder she sensed something was wrong. However, he still didn't want her to worry about him, not when she was supposed to be having a break...from him--his world--his problems.

"I'll be home in a few days. I miss you, doofus..." the girl told him, feeling small and vulnerable at the thought of being so far away from her soulmate. It didn't convey her true heartache, yearning to go home to him where she could eat junk food without unsolicited comments and sleep in her own bed. She didn't want to look needy, but she missed him. Really missed him. More than she'd ever missed anything in her life.

"Yeah, me too, sweet girl," Ray smiled, trying to remain calm and relaxed, but it was almost impossible not to cry as he lay in a room filled with memories of her.

Why were they doing this? He longed for her, and she missed him, so why couldn't he just say it? All it would take was a simple request, asking her to come home before he went insane, but he wouldn't do that. It would be selfish, and she was right... A few days wouldn't kill him, not when she fed him scraps like this every night.

"I want kisses when I get back."

"Believe me, darlin'. You don't have to ask," the hero swore, his gut clenching when he imagined sweeping her up in his arms and kissing her senseless. She wouldn't leave his bed for days when she stepped over the threshold, but there were many days between now and then, and he couldn't afford to get his hopes up...or anything up in general.

"Are you sure you're all right?" (y/n) reiterated, feeling a nagging sense in her tummy--like something was wrong. And the worst bit was she wasn't home to soothe her doofus or see him in the flesh to work out what she could do. That would involve going home, and the potpie competition hadn't even been held.

"Fine..." Ray replied, unknowingly settling into their bed like she did in her childhood room. The soft blankets did little to comfort them, but all the woman could do was take his word and remember to grill him under duress when she returned. His lips loosened when he was underneath her, bare skin pressed together, but that would have to wait as the warmth and safety of her infancy lulled her to rest.

"Are you tired?" He questioned when she yawned, failing to smother the urge by slapping her hand over the receiver.

"No..." She lied, knowing he refused to keep her talking all night about random crap when her baby nieces, nephews and younger cousins would burst into her room at dawn. It was her fault for calling later than usual, but she wanted a few more minutes - anything to hear his voice a little longer.

But Ray could see through her and hear her yawn, and he wouldn't take no for an answer. His sweet girl needed her beauty sleep, and whilst he'd love to listen to her talk all night, that wouldn't be fair to her. Maybe he'd text in the morning and then mope around until the next call. After all, she had at least another three days in her hometown; he couldn't get excited yet.

"It's late where you are. I'll let you get some sleep."

"But I don't want to say goodnight yet," (y/n) whined, earning a chuckle from her lover, imagining how she'd squirm and cuddle into him if she was next to him. She was good at getting what she wanted, and Ray could never refuse her, not when she insisted on five more minutes, one more kiss...one more round. But, as proven by his heartbreak, she wasn't next to him, tempting him into staying awake all night, so the doofus put his foot down for once.

"Sweet girl, if I don't hear you say it, we'll never hang up," he told her, an edge of finality in his voice, despite how soft it was. They had to do this; otherwise, they'd spend all night clinging to their phones, and he wanted her to enjoy the last days of her vacation. And yet his selfish part couldn't help but have one small request - he needed it.

"Promise to call me tomorrow?"

"Yeah..." It was such a nice word. Not too much to reveal her loneliness or how her plans were rapidly changing, but just enough to give Ray hope. And without his sweet girl, he needed as much of that as he could, knowing he lost his feeling of home when she wasn't there.

"Goodnight, darlin'. See you tomorrow..."

"We're so silly, doofus..." (y/n) muttered sleepily, dozing on his chest as Ray hugged her closer, almost terrified of going another four days without his sweet girl.

Maybe he gave her one hell of a welcome home, but never again. He'd go with her next time and sleep on a couch or a spare inch of the floor if it meant he could make it to her family reunion and spare the heartache. But that wouldn't be a worry for a while yet.

He had her now, sleeping in his arms and not in a cold, cramped box room. She sighed contently as she curled her leg around his waist, pressing every inch of her body against his like she felt the same way, which seemed impossible to Ray. Why would anyone miss him as he did for her?

"I missed you, sweet girl. But I wanted you to have a good time..."

"Had a better time when I got back..." She smirked, feeling a cheeky satisfaction amongst the crippling need to sleep. He was so warm and safe...smelt so good...arms around her body...chin scratching the top of her head. So cosy... It should've been illegal to feel this good, but in Ray's embrace, that wasn't surprising.

"We can reenact it in the morning, darlin'," Ray chuckled lazily, rubbing her back and upper butt to lull her to sleep. Tired (y/n) was childlike and adorable, her soft, warm body pulling her with him as she became limp and incoherent.

"Can't wait..." That was the last thing she remembered her doofus saying before she fell asleep like she did every other night for the last God knows how many years. Ray always stayed awake a few minutes longer, glancing around the room as if ensuring the place was safe. Call him paranoid, but he had his whole world in his arms, and he'd rain hell on whatever chose to disturb her dreams.

Reaching over, he turned off his lamp, plunging the room into darkness before he pulled the blankets over her body. If this was heaven, he didn't want anything to change, thinking his life was pretty perfect the way it was, mishaps and all. No, his life could stay precisely the same, thank you very much; same friends, same job, same precious girl, and the feeling of fate looming over them.

"Sleep, sweet girl... Just wait to see what tomorrow brings..."

But nothing stays the same forever, so said the lonely, glinting ring on her bedside table.

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