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

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

Episode 5: Mime Games (SMUT)

Season 1 Masterlist

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bonjour ma peeps. je suis ruth und je ne parle le french. spanish is more my bag. mi bag. enjoy ray as he slowly descends into madness because he wants a baby and his wife sys no. sucks to be him :)

~ Swellview Academy for the Gifted~

"Come on! Let's go, s'go, s'go, s'go, s'go, s'go, s'go, s'go, s'go, s'go!" Ray bellowed as he impatiently hovered by SWAG's front door.

Glancing at his gadget-filled watch, he breathed a frustrated sigh, wondering what was taking his protégés so long to pack. They were going on a trip, not for fun, but for a mission - three days max, so he didn't know what the hold-up was. After all, it was only Paris - he didn't see the big deal.

For some, it was a big deal, the getaway of a lifetime to the city of love, famed for its cafés, architecture, and tourist attractions. (y/n) was one of them, having been unable to sit still all week ever since they received confirmation that Captain Man and Co were needed overseas. Her childhood dream was to take her lover and experience all those cheesy, cliche things she saw in her rom-coms.

It was enough to make her bounce excitedly on the spot, hugging Ray's beefy arm close to her chest, where her heart thundered from the adrenaline. Their bags were packed: a manly, dark camo sports bag for him and an overly girly, glitzy purple suitcase for her, and of course, her husband insisted on carrying both. His sweet girl packed enough for three weeks, let alone three days, but he indulged her.

After all, only a genuinely remarkable lover would whisk their wife away to the most romantic city on Earth, even if it involved a little crimefighting.

Well, that is if the children didn't fuck things over for him.

"We're s'go, s'go, s'go, s'go, s'go, s'go, s'go, s'going!" Mika replied sharply, snapping her hard plastic case shut and haphazardly zipping it up. Unlike some, she and her friends had only learned about the little detour half an hour ago; trust Ray to tell them they were going halfway around the world when no one had anything decent to wear, toiletries, or parental consent.

"Our Goober Lux is three minutes away, and I'm not going to lose my five-star rating for any of you!" The man growled, anxiously glancing at his phone to see the taxi approaching. He wanted to be the perfect customer, ready and waiting by the door with his sweet girl's hand in his, looking ever so handsome.

His hair was so floppy, that jacket was deliciously tight, and the gleaming, golden band on his left hand made the heroine swoon as she squished his bicep more. Maybe it was the thrill, the whiff of adventure, or maybe Paris was just that enticing, but she was ridiculously giddy, too happy to scold the children about dragging their feet.

"You could help us...(y/n/n)?"

"Well, I--"

"She's with me, and I'm helping by yelling..." Ray told Mika sharply when she looked at the starry-eyed woman for help, refusing to let his wife go merely because they weren't prepared. He'd already told her twice, but she looked gorgeous in that pretty little dress--so cute he could burst, but he concentrated on yelling instead. The sooner they moved, the sooner he could show her the fancy-schmancy suite he'd booked at the hotel.

"Let's go! Let's go!"

"Relax, boss. I'm good to go," Miles called out smoothly, looking like the picture of relaxation as he reclined in his chair, feet propped up on his desk with a magazine in hand. Everything around him was chaotic, yet the boy didn't look phased, flicking through the pages while his sister ran around like a mad bull.

"Uh, Miles. We're going to Paris. Aren't you gonna pack anything?" (y/n) asked, wandering over to the kid's side with her doofus in tow. Maybe it was just her - she was a stickler when it came to luggage - but it was a wonder how calm and collected he was, barely sparing them a glance as he turned another page.

"Whatever I need, the universe will provide," he replied with his usual zen. He was so confident in the mystic power that he almost looked smug. For some reason, coincidences fell around him like dominoes, always ensuring his life ran smoothly with no bumps or issues in the road.

But, of course, there were no such things as coincidences - cue Mika walking into the room from the closet, dragging double her weight in suitcases while Miles sat idly by. She always did this, looking out for her brother, even when her care bordered on neglect; after all, he was old enough to look after himself.

"Okay, Miles. I packed all your stuff. Again."

"Told 'ya!" The boy smirked at his teachers before licking his forefinger and thumb to grasp another page, looking arrogant since all the hard work was done for him.

"Mika, honey..." (y/n) sighed, swallowing the urge to give the conceited kid an earful about respect and good manners. Instead, she turned to the sweating, out-of-breath girl, who smiled sweetly after placing the heavy bags down for a breather. It was like she didn't see anything wrong with her kindness; she was too innocent and thoughtful to see how Miles took advantage of her generosity. But she did - (y/n) knew the doormat life all too well.

"Why do you do this for him?"

"The only way he'll learn is if I do it over and over again for him until he learns," Mika explained, and for one so bright, she just sounded dumb. Uttterly stupid. Painfully moronic. And it practically had the woman slapping her forehead in exasperation.

"Mika. I have raised four other children and a doofus. Trust me. Sometimes, you have to be cruel to be kind. You are not his maid, nor his mother, so Miles," (y/n) turned and glared at the boy as she growled out his name, "should get off his butt and pack his own suitcase."

"You're scary when you're mothering..." the girl trailed off, staring at her friend in awe and mild reluctance once her furious tirade finished. It even left her brother looking a little sheepish, shrinking into his chair as Ray approached her, looping his arms around her waist to pull her back to his chest.

He, too, was in awe of his wife, finding it ridiculously hot when she took charge and laid down the law with her confidence and authority. He nuzzled her hair and neck as the girl nodded shyly, promising to be more assertive next time.

"I've had a lot of practice. This doofus used to be and still is a handful," (y/n) joked, reaching a hand up to stroke Ray's hair as he smooched her jawline loudly, making her shriek. It was nauseatingly cute, causing Miles to loudly clear his throat as the hero stroked the glittering rings on her finger, wildly in love with his darling girl, to notice the children swanning around the room.

"You still married me, though, Mrs Manchester..."

"Of course, Mr Manchester."

"Get a room, you guys..." the boy said in a sing-song voice, making the woman giggle when her husband sighed and grumbled. He longed for their honeymoon days when he could openly kiss and love her without a pesky child whining about decency and celibacy.

But Miles was right; they had places to go and people to meet, and any kiss would be ten times sweeter in France. So, the man pecked her cheek and released his wife, clearing his throat before heading back to the door, wondering where that Goober was. At least one kid seemed abnormally focused on his task...

"Bose! Bring the stuff outside."

"You got it, boss. Remember, I am Boooooose..." the long-haired boy replied nasally - almost like he had a cold - as he bent over and fiddled with the zipper on his luggage.

It was strange; he'd been hunched over the damn thing for at least fifteen minutes, ignoring anyone and everything around him, even as his friends ran around doing a million tasks at once. He'd never concentrated so hard in the few months he'd been at the fake school, and it was rare for him not to wander around with that dimpled smile like nothing was wrong in the world.

Instead, he did not show his face, looking through thick hair strands with his hood tightly pulled over his head. Very odd, and that voice... It was so familiar, but not like Bose's, prompting Ray and (y/n) to whip around with deep frowns. He knew that adenoidal tone...

'Wait a minute..." Ray growled, sniffing the air like a bloodhound as he stomped to the quiet boy, sensing something was wrong. It was those superhero instincts... "I knew I smelled science in here!"

Everyone gasped as the man yanked the hood from Bose's head, only to find an imposter was among them.

Turning around with a terrified face after being discovered, the team were shocked to see Schwoz staring back at them in a very clever disguise. If he had played his cards a little better, no one would've noticed the deception since his costume was so good, complete with a very Bosey wig, his signature blue hoodie, skinny jeans, and trainers.

The resemblance was uncanny but not good enough.

"Can you smell science?" (y/n) pondered, knowing her doofus hated anyone behaving smarter than him but smelling it? That was a little crazy, even for him.

"Schwoz, why are you dressed like that?" She moved on, standing beside Ray as she looked the small man up and down, wondering what he was thinking.

"'Cause I want to go to Paris! It's the city of love--and I want to fall in love!" Ah, a stowaway. Schwoz gazed at his friends with misty, wonder-filled eyes, looking every bit the hopeless romantic that (y/n) often saw in her sappy movies. Hearing him talk about feelings and emotions was a little out of character. Still, it warmed her heart as she smiled warmly - she was a sucker for romance, no matter who it involved.

"Awwww..."

"That's strangely adorable."

"The heart seeks what it needs!" She cooed with the kids, clutching her chest as her heartstrings sang. They all thought it was adorable, mirroring the genius's dopey, hopeful smile as he imagined meeting a tall, beautiful bombshell along the Seine. Ray, however, wasn't so smitten, scoffing loudly as he sneered at his handyman.

"First of all, we're not going to Paris to fall in love," he said firmly, pointing a stern finger in Schwoz's face. He fell in love in Swellview, not halfway around the world, so anyone else's feelings didn't matter.

"We're going to Paris because the French Captain Man is on strike. Second of all, everybody knows you're going to die alone!"

"Raymond! How could you be so mean?!" (y/n) scolded her doofus as the poor guy gasped loudly, undoubtedly wounded by his boss' harsh words. Ray flinched under her sharp gaze, but she didn't waver, wondering if he'd be so cruel if someone said the same to him; after all, their relationship seemed hopeless initially.

"...Monsieur Man is on strike?" Schwoz asked incredulously, clueless about how the woman's face fell when he brushed over the apparent insult. Maybe it secretly hurt him, but he didn't show it, staring up at Ray, who smooched her cheek as an apology - although she didn't hear him apologise to the little guy.

"Yes!" Instead, he turned on the smartboard, where he had the front page of France's online leading newspaper. All anyone could gossip about was how the city's leading superhero refused to work and Monsieur Man was very popular.

In some ways, he looked very similar to Ray, or at least (y/n) could see the similarities. He was stereotypically handsome with solid and masculine features, thick biceps, and shoulder-length, slicked-back blond hair. His uniform was a little strange, designed like Ray's, with a long-sleeved white undershirt covered by a zip-up tunic in the French flag's colours.

"I am Monsieur Man!"

He spoke with a thick, French accent, flashing his crazy eyes at the camera as he sipped from an espresso cup. Maybe in an alternate universe, she would've dated him. Still, her better instincts said he wasn't the same as her doofus - a little too eccentric and cheesy for her liking.

"They need us to protect France's greatest national treasures until he agrees to go back to work."

"Yeah, how long is that going to take?" Miles asked, praying that the Parisian hero was reasonable and easy to handle. He could lie to his parents a bit - a weekend field trip - but anything longer and they'd get suspicious. Also, who wanted to spend more than a few days in the city of love with Mr and Mrs Manchester?

"Not sure. We'll have to ask when we get there," (y/n) replied, leaning up on her tippy-toes to peck Ray's lips. She could barely wait, sharing a bright smile with him as they imagined everything they'd see and do together, squeezing hands without realising everyone was watching. Mika thought it was adorable, and Schwoz could only hope for a love like theirs.

"I don't speak French..." the boy added, wondering what they'd do once they landed. Ray couldn't work with others, so a translator had to be out of the question. Maybe just some very well-timed hand gestures?

"That's okay. Je parle un peu français. Je l'ai étudié au lycée, donc on devrait survivre," the heroine replied smoothly, her cheeks slightly warm as the children quirked their eyebrows at her - even Miles was mildly impressed, which was no mean feat.

Ray curled his arms around her waist, pulling his beloved wife to his rumbling chest, practically purring as the beautifully romantic words wrapped around her tongue before soothing his ears. She had to be trying to seduce him, right? Looking up at him through those lashes, smiling cutely, kissing his jaw...he had to be the luckiest man in the world.

"That's so hot, darlin'..." he murmured in her ear, hugging her closely as Schwoz sighed dejectedly, longing for love like theirs. They giggled and whispered to each other, cheeks superheating when Ray asked if she could kiss like the French, too, but he pulled away when the kids coughed awkwardly. Right...he forgot they were there.

"Anyway, you don't have to learn French--French is just English but with very ridiculous accents!"

"That's very ridiculously wrong," Mika mumbled, stunned when her so-called teacher put on the worst impression of a Frenchman she'd ever seen. His voice was thick and heavily accented, finished with a little Frenchy laugh, but he couldn't be further from the truth.

"Such a doofus, mon amour..." (y/n) sighed, shaking her head, but she leaned up to kiss him anyway. Love was in the air, making them extra affectionate and cuddly as they buzzed with anticipation for their romantic break, even if it was technically for work.

The hero grinned against her lips until an alarm sounded, painting the walls red momentarily before Chapa and Bose dropped from the ceiling in their chairs. They'd been grabbing some last-minute essentials from upstairs - weapons, gadgets, underwear - bringing everything down in large, heavy-duty, carry-on bags. They were late, making Ray frown as he glanced at his phone again - where was that Goober?

"Sorry, I'm late! I couldn't find my hoodie," Bose said as he placed the bag on his desk, only to look across at Schwoz and see him wearing his looted sweater. No wonder he couldn't find it; it was part of the genius' cunning disguise.

"Hey, I have that same hoodie! And that same hair!"

"You pack all out travelin' weapons?" Ray asked Chapa after wandering over to her side, looking too damn handsome in that jacket. And seeing him in his tight jeans and the black muscle shirt underneath? Nothing made (y/n) drop to her knees quicker...

"Yeah," Chapa confirmed, having run around the Man's Nest like a madwoman when the hero snapped his fingers and demanded she find everything they'd need to protect themselves in a foreign country. And obviously, he couldn't do it, monitoring the taxi and smooching his beloved wife. Critical stuff.

"You got Lil' Sizzler?" He asked, his lips twitching upward when the girl nodded diligently for every weapon he listed. "The Smoke Wagon? The Mean Wheel?"

"Trick question. There is no weapon called The Mean Wheel..."

"Okay, Chapa..." Ray grinned, thoroughly impressed by her attention to detail and in-depth knowledge. She didn't miss a beat, knowing everything she'd left in the pack, which, strangely enough, was identical to the one Bose had packed - the one he rummaged through as they chatted. Unzipping the gym bag, he pulled out a weird-looking device, like a child's windmill, with half a dozen stickers of his grumpy face stuck to each point as it spun around.

"I got a Mean Wheel right here. You show it to the bad guy, and when he all the mean faces on it, he's like, put that away! It's so mean!" Oh, sweet boy. He meant well, but God, he was simple.

"Oh, Bosey..." (y/n) shook her head with a sigh as Ray flashed the kid a wobbly smile, swapping a look with his sweet girl.

"Lemme holla at you for a second," Miles murmured to his fellow sidekick, placing a warm, kind hand on Bose's shoulder as he pulled him aside for a quick chat, leaving the happy couple with Chapa. Someone needed to tell him why that windmill thing wasn't appropriate, and the boys were particularly close, even if Miles' patience only stretched so far.

"So, I was thinking...when we're in Paris, we have to kiss on top of the Eiffel Tower!" (y/n) mentioned to her doofus as the boys talked a few paces away. She turned in his arms, grinning at him as Ray hummed and kissed her forehead, knowing he'd do anything she asked. He didn't mind what they did, willing to show her the entire city if she wanted, but he couldn't help but tease her a little.

"Can't we kiss anywhere else?" He smirked, stroking her curves as Chapa gagged at his side. God, every minute of every damn day...they couldn't keep their hands to themselves.

"Well, duh, you big doof! But it's a tradition! All couples kiss on top of the Eiffel Tower."

"Well, I can arrange that..." the man growled, leaning down to kiss his wife as she giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck and humming appreciatively.

As they smooched, utterly entranced by the nerves, excitement, and love in the air, the girl by their side groaned and shook her head. She always wore a frown, but this was something else - deep, stern, and severe, etched into her baby-like features the longer they locked lips.

"No fair! So, you guys get to go off doing all your kissy-kissy stuff while we do all the work!" She complained, forcing the couple to break apart as Ray scowled, ignoring how Bose skipped upstairs to look for something. Honestly, he could never love her properly with these little shits around...

"Hey! Can't a man take his incredibly hot wife on a romantic trip?" He asked, squeezing (y/n) 's hips as she rolled her eyes and lovingly kissed his cheek, running her wedding rings down his freshly shaven face. Before she could coo about how unbelievably handsome he was or Chapa could argue otherwise, Mika piped up, looking perturbed.

"Hey, Ray?" She called out, standing and looking through the window while everyone nattered. She'd watched a large, mini-van-type vehicle pulled up outside the school, loitering by the curb as the driver glowered at the front door. He didn't look happy - impatient like every taxi driver - making her gulp as she turned toward the hero.

"There's a Goober LUX SUV outside."

"Oh, my stars! MY stars!" The man gasped, yanking his PearPhone from his pocket and baulking when he noticed the app said his car was here - and his rating was going down. He must've missed the notification, too distracted by his wife's sweet lips or the dumb kid's stupidity.

"What, doofus?" (y/n) quirked an eyebrow, quickly following her lover as he dashed around the room in panic.

"I missed the alert, darlin'! Now, my five-star rating is going down! C'mon, C'mon, C'mon, C'mon! S'go, S'go, S'go!" He urged them all, clapping his hands as everyone jumped into action.

The kids grabbed a bag, swiftly wheeling the suitcases toward the door, including Bose, who lowered his face to the floor. He hurried toward the door without saying a word, frantic into the Goober without glancing at his friends, especially the happy couple. (y/n) grabbed her case, too, nudging Ray's until he raced over to take both, not wanting to see her lift a finger.

"Chapa!"

"What?--" Ray tossed a heavy bag toward the girl before shoving a suitcase toward her knees like a bowling ball. The force nearly toppled her over, but he didn't care, flashing his beloved wife a brilliant smile before holding his hand out for her to take. He practically dragged her to the car, but (y/n) didn't mind, tottering along with a giddy giggle.

This was the beginning of her romantic break, and no one would ruin it.

Everyone was so eager and rushed that no one noticed how Bose expertly programmed the Man's Nest security programme, which involved inputting a code far beyond his technical capabilities. The kid could barely count to ten, yet he punched in the string of numbers without issue, activating dozens of skin-searing lasers that crisscrossed every room should any burglar dare to break in.

With that, he scuttled out of the door with his case, closing and bolting the door behind him, dashing toward the car with a mischievous grin. No one would ever know...the genuine Bose would be safe and snug in the Nest, and Schwoz would find the woman of his dreams.

*bonjour mis amis. je have le smutti smut - oui-oui. if les enfants amongst us could shut their eyes for the next 5k, that would be lovely, and everyone avert your screens from your mothers.

(Raymond secretly wants a baby zut alors!)

SKIP IF YOU DON'T FANCY IT! ONWARDS!*

"Holy shit, doofus. This place is insane..."

"Anything for my best girl..." The hero grinned at his wife as she marvelled at their hotel room. She chucked her jacket over a regal chair draped in gold silk with a polished mahogany frame, offering both opulence and comfort. Its gracefully curved legs and delicate embellishments made it a statement piece of luxury. Yet, it was the bed she focused on.

In the grandeur of the bedroom, the luxurious mattress commanded attention with soft sheets and plush, tufted velvet cushions. Crafted from polished mahogany, too, the bedframe boasted ornate carvings, while a canopy of sheer curtains added a romantic touch to the opulent retreat, inviting anyone who entered to indulge in a haven of rest and relaxation. She fell backwards onto it, testing the plushness and sighing, knowing this was the epitome of comfort as her husband laughed.

Paris was a bit of her. The culture was clever, all elegance and the finer things in life as the city lights twinkled in the darkness. They'd landed quite late - past nine - and headed straight for the hotel, which was far too expensive and fancy for four tweens, but Ray paid for double twin rooms. He had to if he wanted to wine and dine his sweet girl, booking them into an executive suite facing the Champs de Mars.

It was one of the best rooms available--anything to see her smile. Everything had a lovely, warm glow from the furniture's pastel hues. The wallpaper was French - thick, glittery, and doubtlessly expensive with its gold, elaborate design. The carpet was plush, creamy, and woollen, caressing her feet as she stood up and padded across the room, dodging the seventeenth-century sideboards and coffee table.

"Oh, Raymond..." (y/n) breathed as she pulled one of the chintz drapes back from the window and peered at the outside world.

An iconic structure illuminated the city skyline with a golden glow, its intricate lattice of lights shimmering against the dark canvas of the night sky. The city below was a tapestry of twinkling lights. The Eiffel Tower stood as a timeless sentinel as the couple gazed out, casting a romantic spell over the heroine.

She didn't want to imagine how much he'd paid for the view, glancing back over her shoulder as Ray pressed his front to her back, enjoying it with her. His hands held her hips as he rested his chin on her shoulder, silently smirking to himself for a job well done at her awed expression. He took it as a sign he'd chosen well, feeling his heart sing when she took in every aspect, not wanting to lose a moment.

"Do you like it?" He whispered, kissing her neck as she nodded slowly, barely aware of reality as the lights twinkled on The Eiffel Tower. It was breathtakingly beautiful, although he was looking at someone else.

"Of course, doof! I've always dreamed of seeing The Eiffel Tower..." (y/n) sighed dreamily, leaning her forehead on the cool glass as her hand laid over the one on her hip. "Thank you..."

"I promised I'd make all your dreams come true when I married you, pretty girl."

"You didn't have to book us into the fanciest hotel in town, though..." She giggled, squirming at the ticklish sensation of his lips on her skin, but she couldn't be happier. His wedding band felt hot, hard, and heavy on her waist, slightly digging into her as he kept rubbing around his favourite spots...hips, tummy, and ass, up her ribcage until he nearly brushed under her breasts.

"Bose was so shocked he couldn't say a word, poor kid..."

"Go big or go home, darlin'. And besides, I have a dream too..." Ray mumbled, losing himself in his wife's soft body and floral-scented hair.

The mention of that kid barely passed his mind, forgetting how uncharacteristically quiet and shy the boy was when they checked in. He barely said goodnight, not that the hero cared. He couldn't drag his wife into their bedroom quick enough, eager to have her all to himself in the lap of luxury because they didn't get to do this very often. Not with those little demons knocking on the door every day.

"Really?" (y/n) asked quietly, feeling a new heat pulsing through her veins from his wandering fingertips. It didn't help how he'd stripped off his red jacket, revealing the deliciously tight black muscle shirt underneath. He looked so fucking hot, standing there in all black with his biceps bulging every time he moved his arms.

Every inch of him was pressed against her, hands glued to her waist, and there was nowhere to go but the cityscape before her.

"Oh, yeah..." he replied, lightly nibbling a spot just below her ear before bringing his lips back up, whispering in a sultry, throaty voice.

"I've always wanted to say I fucked my wife in Paris."

"Raymond!" She gasped, half-scandalised, half-pulsating with heat. She sounded shocked, but it was a little late for that at this point. She was used to his antics, familiar with how he said it how it was, revelling in his blatant and unapologetic love and lust for her. So used to it, in fact, that the brief feeling - which could've been shock - passed all too quickly, painting a coquettish grin on her face in its wake.

She turned her head to glance at him over her shoulder, giggling when his nose nuzzled into her cheek, mirroring her heated expression. His lips brushed her skin, holding her waist a little tighter as he pulled her ass back into his body. He was obvious and unashamed in every way, rolling his pelvis into her, nipping her jaw a little.

"What? Don't you want me to ravish you, sweet girl? This is the City of Love, after all," Ray teased, a rumble in his voice when she rocked her hips with his, wiggling her butt as she pushed against the glass. A little minx in his mitts, just as unabashed as he was as she tilted her chin up, encouraging the marks he sucked into her skin.

There wasn't a hint of rejection. Not even a suggestion that she didn't want him as much as he wanted her. If anything, she slumped against the pane more, arching her spine while his fingers danced with the button on her jeans. But indeed, giving in from the off wasn't as fun.

"The kids are next door..." A pathetic excuse - murmured through lips curled upwards, making the man snarl.

Frankly, he didn't give a shit. He had the girl of his dreams in his embrace, lovingly trapped with nowhere to go--his wife, hot, ready, aching to take his cock. He wouldn't stop for anyone, and certainly, not four little Satan-spawns, who made it their mission in life to steal him away in the morning, interrupting every clinch with their problems, groaning at every stolen kiss.

It was time to test if his money was well-spent, to see if this hotel really was le triomphe de Paris--if anyone could push the soundproofing to its limits, it was them.

"They won't hear a thing," he replied curtly, running his middle finger around the jean button before expertly popping it open with his forefinger and thumb. His sweet, precious girl didn't struggle, whining as another hand snuck around her body to grasp and fondle her tit, stealing that argument from her mind as she bucked into his touch.

"W-we only just got here..." (y/n) gasped as he squeezed whatever he could grab, dipping into her pants only to stop when she went and ruined it. She loved playing games, and Ray loved a challenge.

"No time like the present," he shot back instantly, wasting no time in moving past her panties and into her slick, circling her clit as he gathered her wetness on his fingers.

Humming in the back of his throat, he approved of how her body did all the talking, juddering when the heel of his palm ground against her sensitive flesh. Soft moans fell from her mouth as he hunched over her body, playing it to a tune only he knew when he found her nipple through her shirt and bralette. That pulled a sharper whine from her, and when he bit the side of her neck...the fight left her.

No more teasing. Just a sweet girl and her doofus in the most romantic city on Earth, in a suite designed to give the ultimate satisfaction.

"Take me to the bed, then, doofus..." the heroine begged, nails scraping down the window as he unhurriedly toyed with her.

"No..." Ray replied lowly, smirking evilly since he was enjoying the game she started. She - the girl of his dreams - was putty in his embrace, keening at the slightest touch until she dripped for him, soiling the loose jeans barely clinging to her hips. They shimmied down her body, making them both desperate to rip them off and get on with it, but he had a different idea. When in Paris...

"First, you'll take me right here, right now. Let the whole city see how well you take me."

His mouth was hot against her ear, whispering harshly as she nodded without thought, becoming drunk and pliant on his throaty tone and thick fingers - the way they cupped between her legs to tease at her entrance.

Usually, she'd never be so daring, rationality telling her that anyone - one of the hundreds of tourists exploring the city's nightlife - could look up and see them in a lust-fuelled tangle. Then, the nerves kicked in, whispering about how they'd be the next internet sensation, how the hotel would kick them out, how the world would know what they did. Usually.

To her surprise, (y/n) found herself equally hungry, clammy palms leaving the window and their prints behind to roughly shove her jeans down her hip until they gathered at her knees. Then, it was just a matter of shimmying them down her calves and stepping out of them, kicking them to the side without a spare thought once her lower half was bare and accessible for her doofus.

"Such a needy girl..." he chuckled, although he didn't waste the opportunity. With more space to manoeuvre, his fingers slipped through her slit with ease, smearing her wetness around her clit until she sobbed, nodding weakly.

"Such a good girl for me, though..."

A hand curled around her throat, pulling her forehead away from the cool glass until she tilted the base of her skull on his shoulder. Her torso was a canvas for him to roam, tweaking her breasts while he twisted his neck to kiss her, tongue messily running across her lips to tangle with hers.

"Want my cock, pretty girl?" He asked breathlessly after they pulled apart, and (y/n) didn't miss the angelic note in his tone. She could never understand how he could say such vulgar things so nonchalantly. Still, either way, she loved it, gasping, begging, vigorously jerking her head in a reverent yes.

God, yes, she wanted it. Wanted his cock. The only thing that could soothe the ache in her pussy, five stories up, watching over the city of Paris with him all over her like a rash. It was daring, it was dangerous, it was downright obscene, but yes, she wanted it.

"Your words, darlin'. Say it," Ray cooed, hissing through his teeth when his beloved wife turned to jelly in his arms, merely presenting her ass against the hardened length trapped in those black skinny jeans.

But that was boring--too easy to just fuck her now without making her ravenous. Hearing her desire was hot - hotter than self-gratification could ever be.

"I want it..." (y/n) mumbled quietly, her lips feeling fuzzy and clumsy like she'd spent the afternoon knocking back shot after shot of hard liquor. She'd say anything he wanted to hear if it meant he'd be deep inside her, screwing the lust and longing out, trusting her beloved idiot to take care of everything she couldn't think about.

"Louder. Do you want to be fucked or not?" The hero growled, hands still against her clit and tit when her pitiful attempt barely made it to his ears. Where was the woman who commanded his home like a queen? The one who often straddled his hips and rode him with authority and conviction?

"Yes!" She cried a sudden desperation fuelling her sharp shout when the dear pleasure he gave her was ripped away. Her hips rolled into his fingertips, chasing the hazy delight. Yet he retreated before she could, bringing them to his lips instead so he could suck the honey off them - down to the goddamn knuckle.

"Fuck, please, doofus...fuck me. Give me your cock."

"Right now? Right here? Wanna give all those people a show?" Ray grinned, licking at the delicious sweetness on his lips, eager to have another taste if she'd let him. But first, he needed to be inside her, straining against his jeans when she tucked her nose under his jaw and whimpered.

"Fuck me hard, Captain. Give it to me."

"That's my girl." He moved in an instant, shoving her back against the window with an unusual but not unwelcome roughness so she was braced against the glass again. His foot kicked her ankles apart, spreading her legs a little further, opening his favourite view in the world while he hurried to free himself. God, he never tired of eyeing her so ready, wet, and frantic for him.

Arching her back, (y/n) waited for what she craved, smiling tipsily when she heard the gentle, unmistakable jingle of his belt buckle as Ray shoved his pants and underwear down his thighs - just enough to free himself. He took his rigid length into his hand, pumping the achingly hard flesh with a groan as he guided the tip to her blazing cunt, sliding it through her folds.

A moan left her lips at the sensation, mewling when he rubbed himself against her clit to cover himself in slick.

He couldn't help but grunt at the relief of fisting his cock, staring at her pretty cunt as it fluttered and clenched around nothing in anticipation. It was tempting to keep going, fuck himself to the biggest walking turn-on he'd ever seen. Still, Ray stopped himself, curling his forefinger and thumb around the base of his cock to will himself to calm down.

"Fuckin' take it..." he growled lowly as he guided himself down to her entrance and pushed in, hissing when he felt that all-too-familiar tightness engulf his cock.

Like always, there was some slight resistance, willing to force him back out until he surged forward, parting her walls as (y/n) wailed. The thickness was heavenly, making her jaw go slack and eyes flutter shut when his groin pressed against her ass, fully sheathed inside his sweet girl. She clenched around him, now sucking him in, squeezing him tightly like nothing he'd ever felt before, and it felt like coming home.

"Oh, pretty girl, you feel so good."

"Don't make me wait, Ray..." (y/n) whimpered, planting her feet a little further apart to give him more room, enticing him to start moving. Slick was dripping down her thighs at this point, allowing her lover to inch a little deeper, but he wasn't particularly fussed.

He held her hips flush against his whilst he ran kisses from the edge of her shoulder to her neck, panting harshly and trying to reign in his desire - she'd never believe his lack of control when he had his wife in his arms.

"Keep those pretty eyes on the city. Leave me to my husbandly duties," Ray muttered against her throat with a smirk, gently sucking and nipping on her skin as he began to pull and push into her.

They groaned together at the friction, clawing hands leaving greasy streaks down the window pane as his cock dragged against her walls, providing sweet relief. Starting off slow, the man hummed lowly in his throat as he steadily coated himself in her, rubbing her hips as he tried not to get too excited. He felt so deep inside her from this angle, marvelling at the sight of her bare flesh and the moans she made.

"Fuck--harder--" She pleaded whinily, wiggling her hips to try and force herself back onto him, taking matters into her own hands. The slow, gentle, shallow thrusts were pathetic and maddening, barely enough to satisfy the ache deep within her.

She needed the rough, brutal pace only he could give her, but Ray stopped her movements, holding her waist, when his mouth suddenly appeared next to her ear, hot and harsh.

"I said, look outside. Don't waste this view," he spat, a large hand shooting up to cup his chin and force her to turn to Paris again - like she could concentrate on anything but him. "And I'll look at this one."

With his sweet girl staring blankly at the warm, twinkling lights and traffic-heavy roads, the hero pawed at her body and took a step back to admire her. He'd swear on the book that he'd never seen anything so beautiful in all his born days, trailing his gaze from her naked back and shoulders to the reflection of her breasts in the glass to her hips and the delicious crease between her thighs.

God, he could stare at it all day, licking his lips as he studied every minute detail of how stuffed her cunt looked with his cock crammed inside. She took him so well, stretched and drenched around him, piecing a sinful picture together in his head, which he tucked away for a rainy day.

His hands kneaded her ass, parting her cheeks to see the puckered hole that only he knew - a vulgar secret and privilege he'd never take for granted. Although, perhaps he'd take it later on when he'd fucked her pussy numb.

"Feels so good, Captain," (y/n) gasped, glueing her eyes to the skyline as her husband moved again, finding a rough, sweet pace that had them slumping against the window like rutting animals.

"I know, darlin'. Shit, your pussy feels so good," he groaned from above, belt buckle jingling with every movement of his hips. His skin was blazing, still dressed from head to toe, but it only inspired liquid fire in the heroine's veins; glancing down to her right to see his biceps in that black muscle shirt.

Her pussy fluttered at the image conjured in her head: sweat clinging to his skin, strands of hair falling from his gelled quiff, the trail of hair down his navel peeking out from the hem of that stupidly hot shirt from where he'd shoved his jeans down those toned thighs.

She just knew he looked like sin and heaven and everything she needed for another gush of slick to run down her thighs, making her lover snarl and smirk.

"You fuckin' love this, don't you?" He chuckled, resting his forearm on the window as he snapped his cock into her harder, nosing her cheek as (y/n) struggled to breathe--see--think, let alone speak.

"Wha--?"

"Anyone could look up now and see you, and you don't give a shit. These pretty fuckin' tits are on show for the world, but you're mine, aren't you?" Ray growled, releasing her iron grip on her pelvis to gather a fistful of hair, bringing her head back towards his.

He'd never hurt her; a gentleness in everything he did, even when he slapped and pinched at her stiff nipples - moans falling from her lips with every tweak and tug. Something green, dark, and ugly rose within him when he thought about someone else seeing her like this, bare and beautiful, which should've been for his eyes only, but it merely made him fuck harder.

Anyone would look up and see him fucking her, his touch making her cry in ecstasy, his ring on her finger.

"Yes--sh-shit, yes!" She nodded weakly, a thrum of pleasure passing through her as her doofus wrapped himself around her, her bare back to his fully clothed front.

"You love this--can feel your cunt squeezing me, dirty little girl."

"'M all yours, Ray. Love how you f-fuck me," the woman stuttered, practically drooling down the glass as he continued ploughing her pussy, bringing forth the release she needed so badly. "God, I wanna cum..."

"Yeah? Wanna cream all over my cock?" Ray cooed with an evil, shit-eating grin as he snaked his hand down to her woefully neglected clit. He'd left it alone for far too long, leaving it exposed and throbbing in the cool air until his fingers began their assault.

"Let me cum! P-Please, I need--I need--I--" (y/n) shrieked at the sensation, lurching forward as he rubbed rapid circles against her most sensitive spot, electrifying her every nerve end.

Her tongue felt clumsy and too big for her mouth. It barely wrapped around each word as she gabbled and babbled like an idiot, feeble and pliant like putty for her doofus.

"Fuck, you can't get enough. This little pussy needs filling every fucking day..." Ray muttered to himself, memories of their previous encounters coming to mind as he fluidly pumped into her, never failing in his rhythm.

Before their flight, she'd begged him to fuck her into their mattress, accidentally nudging their suitcase onto the bedroom floor after he accosted her while packing. Maybe that was hours ago, and perhaps they'd had a quick fumble in the plane toilet, but God, if she was insatiable, he was ravenous. And he'd never, ever say no.

"I'll give you what you need, precious girl--I'll always take care of you..." He mumbled, lapping at her neckline as he played her every weak spot,

"So, cum for me...Let go, sweet girl. Let me feel you...""

It ripped through her on his word, pulsating around his cock as Ray groaned, willing himself to thrust through it, crowding her against the window until he had her tits pressed against them. He kept circling her clit, whispering sweet, filthy nothings in her ears as her fingers clenched and cunt twitched. Soak me...get this pussy ready for me...fuck, I know what you need.

"Shit--Ray!" (y/n) screeched, writhing in his arms when he didn't stop. His thrusts were frantic and fast, balls slapping against his ass as Ray groaned.

He couldn't help it; maybe it was the romantic setting, the thrill of exhibitionism, or the temptation of another round on the bed, but something told him to claim her now. He felt wound up like a coil, endlessly needy and in love with his perfect wife as she became even slicker around him.

He'd undoubtedly make it up to her - in no way planning for the night to end so early. This was only the first round, and he planned to stay inside her all night, to make her see stars with orgasm after orgasm until she didn't know what planet she was on, but first, Ray needed his release.

The sensation of his pretty girl coming around him was convincing enough; it had been hours since he came inside her, and something inside him itched.

It was a peculiar feeling, one he'd never felt in his life until he met and wedded her. The thought of painting her insides with his cum made his thoughts go black, replacing them with deep, carnal desires to see her swell and grow, all because of him. He'd make her grow and change, and fuck, the outcome... He knew she said to wait, but fuck if it didn't excite him, just the thought of giving her a ba--

"Gonna fill you up, sweet girl..." the man choked out, stepping closer until (y/n)'s entire body was pressed against the window, rutting against her ass and a sensitive spot inside her in tiny, grinding thrusts. He felt it getting closer, scolding himself for not lasting.

But her pussy was incredible, stealing his resolve as he curled his arms and brought her into a tight embrace.

"Yeah? Gonna cum inside me, doofus?" She whispered, grinning dopily, still riding her high when she turned to look at him over her shoulder. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and he seemed effortlessly handsome as he leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers, panting hard.

"Fuck, yeah..." Ray nodded feverishly, eyebrows knitted together in concentration as he kneaded her tits and tummy, not knowing where to touch, "Gonna stuff this pussy and then--shit--I'll--"

"What, doofus? What do you want? I'll do whatever you want..." His wife asked softly, rocking backwards on the balls of her feet to meet his thrusts, adding a little extra bite to the pleasure that coursed through them. The glass had fogged up, and if any sightseer looked up now, they'd doubtlessly know what was going on, but neither cared.

Everything built up slowly and quickly at once, pushing them further together until the lines of reality blurred with delight, making Ray throw his head back and howl. He returned to her clit, keeping his arms tightly around her frame--like he couldn't bear to let her go, not when the end was so near.

"That's my good girl," he growled, smooching her cheek loudly as he raced through a million daydreams - all of them filthy. On the bed, on the dresser, the vanity table, seeing her on her knees, parting her thighs and diving in, bending her over and pounding her needy little hole until the sun came up.

"I'll eat you out after this."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Let me have a taste. Let you cum on my face, and then, I'll fuck you again and again," the hero rambled on, sinking further and further into his desire, getting off on everything he wanted to do to her.

"Ray..." And it seemed she wanted it, too. She bent her back, arching into his touch as they fucked harder and harder, chasing their highs. The extra stimulation of her clit brought (y/n) to another peak, tilting her head back against his shoulder, and Ray knew she was his to drain for pleasure.

"Not letting you go tonight, darlin'," he promised against her temple, hot breath rolling across her face as his pace became uneven yet snappier. "I want to have you all night."

"Cum for me, then, doof. Fill me up," (y/n) coaxed, finding his hand on her breath and threading her fingers through it, holding it over her heart as she whispered the sweetest words of the night. "I'll let you fuck my ass."

It ended him. A harsh gasp ripped from the man as his hips pressed into hers as far as possible. Warmth spread inside the heroine as he stilled, saying nothing but rushed mumblings of her name and small groans, holding his sweet girl as tight as he could. She came second, milking him in gentle waves, mewling softly as he painted her insides before all of Paris.

Strong arms - those bulking biceps - held her safe, cooling their blazing, sticky bodies against the steamy window, refusing to pull out since his pearly load was so precious. It felt right to keep it inside her - it scratched the itch, and even though he knew they shouldn't, it didn't mean he couldn't dream.

Just knowing she was full to the brim with his cum, knowing one day he'd have the satisfaction of seeing her swell, was enough. For now.

"Oh, fuck, Ray..." (y/n) sighed once they slumped against the window, fingers cupping her breasts and gently squeezing - more of a comfort thing than sensual.

He rested his chin on her shoulder, sighing deeply as she leaned her weight back on him at his gentle touch, humming in mild discontent when she realised he was still wearing clothes. Admittedly, very hot clothes that made him look like some kind of God, but still. She wanted the intimacy of skin-on-skin, but that would be in a bit - once they had a breather.

"Good? He asked, kissing her shoulder, and he felt the weight of her flesh in his hands. He'd never seen someone so beautiful, utterly besotted.

"Good," she confirmed breathlessly with a delicate smile, reaching behind her to bring his face to hers. They shared a brief kiss, so soft compared to when he ploughed her senseless. "So good."

"Good," Ray smiled, squeezing her body before gazing at the skyline, all doe-eyed and gooey inside. The night sky was stunning, the warm glow of the lights even more so, but his sweet girl? She was everything he ever wanted and needed, looking so perfect with his softening cock still deep inside her.

"I'm yours, too, y'know..." he muttered after a few moments of silence, "I want you to be mine so bad, darlin', but I'm yours too. You've got me--forever."

"I know, Ray. I love you, too," (y/n) sighed, rubbing her hand over his, grinning when she heard the slight chink of their wedding rings bumping together.

To say she was glowing was an understatement; she was safe, happy, and warm with her husband, even if she realised post-entanglement that they'd played a risky game - fun but scandalous.

"Can't believe we just fucked in front of the most famous city in the world."

"I'm hearing no complaints...In fact, you begged for it. Screamed," Ray grinned, and upon hearing the smirk in his voice, (y/n) whacked his shoulder, albeit with warm cheeks and a grin of her own.

Perhaps that was true, but people in glass houses... He made himself sound like such a prude. Yet, really, he was the horniest man she'd ever met, and the one with his pants hanging around his knees because he'd been so desperate - the one who'd still not yet pulled out because he was hoping to get lucky again.

"Only because you seduced me! Like you did before we left home and were on the plane. You're a bad influence, you big doofus." She giggled, gasping slightly when their bodies moved, making his cock drag against her walls.

It wasn't the best argument, given how her eyes fluttered closed, biting her lip in what Ray saw as an utterly seductive move. Was she trying to make him want her? Because it was working, he whispered hotly against her ear, suddenly serious and baritone, his voice as smooth as a rich, dark chocolate.

"Can't a man make love to his wife?"

"Against a window for the world to see?" (y/n) gulped when he tweaked her nipples again, sending all-too-familiar shockwaves down her spine as her sensitive core tingled. Ray was silent and simply leaned forward for a filthy kiss - all tongue and teeth as he planned his next move. What was that offer she made again?

His eyes glanced down to where their bodies connected, feeling himself harden inside her again when he observed the deliciously slick flesh engulfing his cock. Only he had a different goal, pulling out of her entirely to a chorus of petulant whines as he drifted north.

He'd give the city a show, wanting his precious wife ruined and speechless by the end of the night. It started when he pressed himself into her tight passage, turning whimpers into wails and gasps as he whispered...

"Well, when in Paris, sweetheart..."

*je suis sweating after that, mon amors. mais oui, mais oui ray wants his baby so bad (and I do too but not yet ruth.)

children, open les peepers and let's go forth. we've got some weird mime shit to get through and endless bits of pda from our doofus and sweet girl.

allon-sy! (said the 10th--or 14th???--doctor).

~The next morning~

The team rose bright and early, donning their uniforms before heading to a quirky cafe in downtown Paris.

Everything was so French, unsurprisingly, with freshly baked bread, croissants and coffee for breakfast, walking down the street to the sound of an accordion. Of course, Ray and (y/n) went hand-in-hand, wearing matching lightweight, waterproof jackets for the cool morning air, and they adored the city of love.

It screamed them, strolling with enamoured smiles as the kids trailed behind them, chatting about the thrill of being in a foreign country. Bose was a little quiet, but (y/n) supposed it could be jet lag, and her doofus had already swept her into a passionate kiss before she could think about it further.

She entered the cafe first, ears warming when Ray opened the door for her like a true gentleman, even if he left Danger Force to fend for themselves. He strolled in like he owned the place, looking ridiculously handsome in his Captain Man costume.

He faced a hoity-toity old lady with a sour expression and an alarmingly bright red jacket, tie, and crisp white shirt - her name was Marie, and she had the joy of being their host.

"All right, everybody! Calm down! America's here!" Captain Man announced as he walked toward the woman and unzipped his jacket. Miss Danger gestured for the children to come closer. She was willing to let her husband do most of the talking since only he could saunter around with that level of nonchalant confidence.

"All right, first things first, I got a couple'a great jokes about French people, so let's dive right in. How many French people does it take to surrender to--" Or perhaps not.

"Okay, doofus, we're not gonna go there!" (y/n) shouted above his voice, jumping forward to push him away before he could say anything offensive. They'd not even been there for twenty seconds, and he'd already scandalised his host, etching a deep frown on her face - some things were still too raw to talk about.

"Je suis de le mond désolé pour lui," Mika crooned to the woman with her sweetest smile, hoping to smooth things over as her friend gave the hero a stern look.

She'd sat with them on the plane, and when they didn't sneak off to the bathroom together - which was obvious to her - she'd had a few French lessons from (y/n). Not much, just enough for the average tourist, but Marie looked at her like she'd grown a second head when she put it into practice.

"I'm sorry. I do not understand," the older woman replied in a thick, French accent, making the group's Smarties frown.

"But she was speaking French," (y/n) pointed out, coming up from behind Mika to gently place her hands on the girl's shoulders. Ray's soft eyes followed her every move, but he smirked at his young sidekick, ready to deploy his smug face.

"But no! French is just English with a very ridiculous accent!"

"See? I'm right about everything," he told Mika arrogantly when she turned to him with that stupid and annoying face. Marie was nice enough, but that couldn't be right...and she desperately wanted to smack him.

"Oh, doofus..." (y/n) sighed and shook her head at him, but as always, she couldn't help but smile and peck his cheek.

Ray was just too adorable to her when he looked at her with that dopey grin, sliding his arm around her waist as Mika rolled her eyes. Deep down, he knew she was right, glaring at the French woman for being so ridiculed.

"This place kinda looks like Hip Hop Purée," Chapa mentioned as she wandered around the café, noting the similarities.

The counter was in the same place with all the snacks and drinks, the logo on the wall was similar, and the decor screamed modern American culture. Save for the random memorabilia and displays around the room and the name difference with Paris, the heroes felt at home - almost as if they hadn't gone transatlantic.

"But of course! We want you to feel at home while you guard our national treasures," Marie replied, dramatically gesturing around the room with elegant sweeps of her arms.

"Well, I guess somebody has to," Ray retorted as the woman moved to the priceless artefacts they had to protect. His gaze slid to the only other Parisian in the room, glaring harshly at the blond, garlicky man as he spun around in an ergonomic chair and sipped an espresso with an unbothered, clueless smile. "Since Monsieur Man over there is on strike."

"That is correct. I will not fight crime until someone buys me a pretty pink motorcycle," he replied defiantly, looking almost ridiculous in his copycat uniform. (y/n) had heard how he was popular with the ladies, sharing many characteristics with Captain Man, except he hadn't found a sweet girl of his own yet. She supposed he was handsome somehow, but he had nothing on her husband.

"I'm sick of taking the subway! I want to drive around and say, beep, beep, beep! Out of my way! I am Monsieur Man!"

"Okay..." Was all Chapa had to say, reacting to his cheery explanation with a flat, bored expression--almost a look of repulsion. She wasn't impressed, wondering why she had to travel thousands of miles for the whims of some spoilt little French boy.

"What are we guarding here?" (y/n) asked, turning to Marie to refocus the group. Still, when she saw the items the hostess had gathered, she wouldn't exactly call them treasures.

"Only the most important treasure in all of France," she said proudly, gazing at the weirdest collection of knickknacks they'd ever seen.

"Napoleon's pants..." She held up the so-called antique, and everyone wrinkled their noses. The garments were pinned to a board for preservation and were tiny as if they belonged to a child. They'd yellowed with age, looking disgustingly old, wrinkled, and manky as she held them to the light.

"The first French bread ever baked..." She gently picked up the long, stick-like baguette like it was made of glass, but dear God, the smell.

The bread had to be decades old and had turned a dark shade of green due to a cakey layer of mould. It was enough to make anyone sick to the stomach, and (y/n) nuzzled against Ray's chest, subtly inhaling his fragrant cologne and not the musky stench from the bread.

"And finally, the original helmets of music superstars, the Daft Punk." She smiled at the futuristic helmets, which made everyone genuinely smile. They could be considered true treasures - part of music history, even if they weren't precisely to Ray's taste.

"Ah...I definitely know who Daft Punk is because I'm cool, and I know cool things," the man commented flatly as he stared at the helmets. Yet, nothing came to mind, not even when the kids cheered and gasped with excitement. Even his sweet girl grinned with awed eyes, her hand clamped over her mouth.

"Really, doofus? I wouldn't have thought they were your thing..." (y/n) frowned confusedly as she squeezed his beefy arm to her body. She knew everything about him, from the colour of his underpants to his childhood imaginary friend to his favourite baby name. This was news to her.

"Name any of their songs," Mika dared him, making the hero freeze, not that he showed it. He couldn't care less about this Daft Punk, but he played it off well, keeping his expression stern and focused as he ignored her.

"There's no time!" He shouted dramatically before snapping his gaze to Chapa. "Volt! Let's get an inventory of those weapons before any of these cheese-eaters try to steal my favourite band's helmets or whatever."

"Uh, we got a problem, Cap..." The girl said slowly as (y/n) glanced at her lover suspiciously, only to look even more perturbed when she heard that. Those weapons were all they had; problems weren't what they needed when they'd left everything else at home.

"We took the wrong bag," she revealed, snatching a familiar item from the gym bag.

Ray scoffed at that doohickey of Bose's creation, his little windmill of angry faces. He hated that thing, but unfortunately, they'd mistaken the proper weapon bag for the identical junk sack, and he growled when he yanked out another bizarrely useless item - a tangled, brightly coloured, shaggy slinky.

"Aw, what? Care to explain this, buddy?" He asked the kid harshly, stomping over with the slinky in hand to where Bose had been deathly silent, keeping himself to himself in a shady corner. It was weird; he was typically so outgoing, but he had barely said a word since they'd left Swellview, and even when his boss snapped, he didn't turn around.

"I can't because I am the dumb one," he replied quietly, sounding like he'd gone swimming in a brewery, slurring his words in a funny voice. His jacket said BrainStorm, but (y/n) narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"Bose, honey..." she called out to him, reaching to place a comforting hand on his shoulder. The poor kid sounded like he had the world's worst cold, but as Ray threw the springy tangle into a corner, a sour smell assaulted his nose, a shiver ran down his spine...a deep, instinctive yearning settled in his gut.

"Ew...did someone science in here?!" He questioned in a disgusted tone with a wrinkled face, glancing at his sweet girl and the kids.

"Don't luck at me, doofus! I only do math when you're around to drool..." (y/n) exclaimed as she and Mika held their hands up in defence. They were The Smarties but had barely had enough time to sleep, let alone flex their brains, so it didn't make sense. That is until Ray's nose pointed him somewhere else.

"Wait a minute," he muttered, squinting at Bose's figure. His superhero senses told him something was wrong, especially when he noticed how the boy refused to look at him and how short he seemed to be--a little too shifty.

So, he yanked the hood down, revealing those familiar sickly brown locks and a pair of dark sunglasses. He quickly ripped from his stunned face, and there were a pair of irritatingly familiar, wide, brown eyes locked onto his.

"Schwoz! Dang it!" Ray snapped upon seeing the genius through his cunning disguise, making the others gasp in horror, too. "I thought I told you to stay home, you little nerd!"

Schwoz didn't even need to think about his next move. He'd been busted, and now that the cat was out of the bag, he felt no loyalty to Ray. There was no need to keep up this façade, not when he had a personal mission to complete, so he threw the hero and his sidekicks an anguished glance before bolting for the door.

"I want to find looooooove!"

"Wait...if that was Schwoz...then where's...?" Mika pondered as she stared thoughtfully at Chapa, who was stunned speechless by the handyman's devious actions and dramatic exit.

"Kevin!" Ray screeched in horror, his face a picture of panic when he realised the worst. The thought was there, but come on...

"Um, doofus, you mean, Bose?" (y/n) corrected in a whisper as she hovered by his elbow. She was equally terrified at the heart-stopping thought of accidentally leaving one of her babies in the Nest. Still, she couldn't help but frown when her husband got his name wrong - after so many weeks, if not months, of knowing him.

"I mean--Bose!--I mean, BrainStorm!" He exclaimed dramatically when he realised he lacked his wife's tact, shouting the boy's name when it should've barely been a whisper.

But he got there in the end, and the couple gawped at each other in a state of pure panic; this was the first time they'd forgotten a child in the many years of having them, and it felt like they'd lost a limb. They felt sick to their stomachs, foreheads clammy and fingers trembling as (y/n) slowly shuffled into his embrace, picturing the poor kid alone in the Man's Nest. It broke her heart, and all she could think was how it was her fault.

You didn't check. You should've noticed. You will be responsible if he gets hurt. Her brain always picked the right moments to be so helpful.

"You guys, what happened to Bose?" Chapa asked angrily, breaking them out of their self-loathing. She was aloof and insensitive, but deep down, she cared about her friends--especially the ones who could barely tell a goldfish from a grenade.

"Did we leave him at home?"

"Alone?" Miles gasped, snapping his gaze to his teachers as they gulped.

"Yes! Oh, God...we left BrainStorm at home! Oh, my baby..." (y/n) whimpered, feeling truly awful as she hugged herself. Ray tried to comfort her, keeping his arm around her shoulders as he mournfully stared at the floor before pecking her hair.

"He's my favourite one!" He nodded, not that it helped. The others looked at him offendedly, although Chapa could understand why. Still, (y/n) slapped his chest and tried not to smile or show any sign of approval because that would be wrong. Very wrong.

"Captain Man! We don't have favourites!" She told him firmly, flashing the children a wobbly but sincere smile since she loved them all for unique reasons, but that wasn't important whilst she sunk further into her sadness.

"But poor Bosey...he's probably scared and cold and hungry and tired, and oh, God! Doofus!"

"I know, sweet girl. I know..." Ray sniffled, holding her painfully contorted face against his chest when her rambling turned into anguished, strangled cries. He couldn't bear to see her sad but knew her pain, feeling responsible and guilty despite not showing it; deep down, he cared, and it was enough to bring tears to his eyes, too.

They could picture it now: he'd be tucked up in a corner of their home, not knowing how to find the kitchen or turn up the thermostat. He wouldn't have gotten any sleep, too afraid of the dark and the monsters that could lurk in it since he didn't do well alone. The poor kid must've been terrified, and it was impossible to help him--possibly days before they could go home.

He didn't show it often, but Captain Man would move mountains for his sidekicks, so it mildly shocked them to see him so distraught. The man resorted to squeezing his beloved wife in His embrace, manically petting her soft hair as she fanned her eyes, refusing to show fear in front of her other babies, but they wouldn't stop.

"Somebody call my baby Bose...My poor baby," she whimpered, feeling a little pathetic, but luckily, Mika swiftly fished the PearPhone from her pocket. She had Bose on speed dial, clicking his contact and holding the cell to her ear as the dialling tone beeped.

"Relax, (y/n/n)...I'm calling him."

"It won't work!" A cruel, mocking laugh came from the corner - more like a sneer. Miss Danger flashed her most vicious glare at its owner, wishing she could burn holes in Monsieur Man's head as he sat there, perfectly content and carefree, whilst her world was in chaos.

"Listen here, Pepé Le Pew..." she growled, so ready to sink her claws into him that Ray had to encircle his arms around her waist to keep her at bay, only for another annoying froggy accent to reach her ears.

"The cell phone service you are using, ATandOui, is on strike."

"The whole country is on strike," the French hero explained, coolly sipping his espresso as Ray tried the number to no avail. "They all strike for Monsieur Man. Ha, ha!"

"Okay, that's it! I'm gonna rip his head off. See if he's still smirking then." (y/n) lunged for the man, hoping to at least gouge an eye out or break his nose, but Ray was too swift and strong. He kept her snuggly in his arms, whispering soothing words in her ear to drown out Monsieur Man's victorious huff. She was better than that, even if her babies' safety could make her ferocious.

"If only we had someone who could teleport back home..." Miles suggested dryly, giving the woman a bemused yet tender look, making her ears warm.

"Au revoir, Frenchies," the boy sassed before jerking his arm in the air, disappearing in a flash of golden light. Surprisingly, he didn't reappear half a centimetre to the left or an inch to the right, so Ray and (y/n) assumed he'd returned to the Man's Nest - a much-needed reassurance.

"Nice! One of your superpowers actually worked... Lookin' at you, ShoutOut," the handsome man remarked, which earned a few eye rolls from the girls, but at least his wife perked up, and he was relieved to see her smiling again.

"Wow, you're really gonna go there?" Mika growled, a little hurt, but she had the last laugh when (y/n) reprimanded her doofus like a mother berating her child.

A gentle tug on his earlobe told him to behave, and he begrudgingly apologised to the girl, earning himself a soft kiss. They leaned in, needing a little sweetness after so much distress, but just when their lips were about to touch...

"What are you doing?!"

"Get out of here!" Two disgusted, ladylike voices suddenly bellowed from the female toilets at the back of the café, and a mortified figure burst through the door. It was Miles, who covered his blazingly hot face with his hands after seeing...things. He'd be scarred for life, but nothing was more humiliating than an utter failure.

"Okay, if anyone else is curious, that is the ladies' room," he said meekly as his friends stared at him, making the girls cringe. Nothing was worse than stumbling into a place where you couldn't be less wanted, and he'd really taken one for the team there.

"Anybody else got any ideas?!" Ray asked sternly, still worried and now pissed off since he'd missed a kiss from his sweet girl. And he really needed that kiss.

"I've got an idea!" Monsieur Man called from his cosy corner, ignoring Miss Danger's frosty glances. She'd warm up to him eventually - all women did - so he couldn't help but smile when she rolled her eyes and snarled.

"Merci, but we're good."

"Ah, but mon chéri..." the Parisian hero crooned smoothly with a blinding smile, a little too flirtatious for Ray's liking, as he stiffened and stood closer to her. But Monsieur Man was harmless, shifting his gaze behind them, finding something hilarious as everyone stared at him.

"Why don't you stop that mime from stealing the baguette?" He suggested playfully, pointing to where a sneaky criminal had slipped past Captain Man's razor-sharp senses and swiped the mouldy bread.

The heroes turned around to see the bizarre man creeping away most ridiculously. He was a classic mime, his face painted a ghastly white with exaggerated features. At the same time, he wore a black beret, white gloves, a monochrome striped shirt, braces, and black breeches.

Watching him was funny as he kicked his feet out with every step, the baguette raised high above his head, but despite the cutesy act, a criminal was still a criminal.

"Freeze!" Ray ordered after getting over his initial shock, and the mime immediately stopped...and began shivering?

"Oh, freeze! Like he's cold... That's kinda good," (y/n) giggled as she watched the silly man tremble like he was stuck on an arctic tundra. It even broke a smile on Ray's face, laughing with the kids when the actor hugged the baguette close and chuckled, too.

"All right, take it. You've earned the bread..." Ray sighed--so impressed with his quick wit and improvisation that he didn't have the heart to chase after the criminal. But that wasn't the point, much to his sidekicks' disgust and fury.

"No!"

"That's stealing!"

"He's getting away!" Mika and Miles exclaimed, wildly gesturing to the mime, who prepared to make a swift if overacted, exit. Luckily, Chapa had the brains to guard the door, blocking his path with the deadliest weapon in their arsenal - The Mean Wheel.

And surprisingly, it worked. One flash of Bose's grumpy face and the mime cowered away, holding his hands up in surrender with little fight left to flee.

"I guess it works!" The girl declared happily, expecting an epic brawl, but maybe Bose was onto something. It gave Ray enough time to grab the guy by his collar, yanking him back into the store.

"Well, sometimes, you just--" he grunted, pulling his detainee back with a mighty jerk as he jogged on the spot, "--y'know, get lucky."

"That's a Daft Punk song..." Miles pointed out, but he wasn't surprised when a blank expression passed over the hero's face.

"I know it is. Thank you," he scoffed casually, even though no one was fooled by his bluff.

Ray had to save face, not only for the civilians and so-called heroes watching but for his sweet girl, who shook her head in amusement as she kept her eyes trained on the mime. She didn't trust them - something about how they didn't speak made her nervous.

"Then sing it," Chapa taunted, smirking underneath her poker face. Everyone knew the man couldn't resist a challenge, and it was a battle of wills as he pondered his next move.

"Too expensive..." he answered vaguely before quickly dropping his gaze to the surly mime, clenching his fist around his collar in case he tried to escape.

He didn't trust them either, snapping his fingers for Mika to bring him a chair. The girl gently placed it in the middle of the floor, unaware of his plan.

She was shocked to see how roughly her teacher shoved the poor man onto the seat, nearly pushing him onto the floor as a melancholy pout made his bottom lip wobble. It was even more alarming to watch Miss Danger loom over him, an uncharacteristically aggressive glint in her eye as she studied the mime's pasty face, unnerving him for some weird reason.

She knew they had to question him about why he targeted the national treasures, but did they have to be so...mean?

"Talk!" Ray bellowed, making the actor flinch at his loud tone. Still, he said nothing - just collected himself and returned to sitting prettily.

"I said talk! Tell me where your friends are!"

"He's a mime. They don't talk!" Mika told him exasperatedly, knowing he could shout all day but never get through. (y/n) usually told him stuff like that, but she was weirdly silent for some reason, observing the mime broodingly.

"They also don't have friends," her brother jokingly added, which to most people would be true. Mimes were socially celebrated, perhaps a little nerdy and weird in most circles, but the couple knew better. Oh, they knew things the children would never believe. Things that would scar their innocent minds.

"Oh, he's got friends!"

"Guys, he's a mime. They live in hives, so when you see one, there's always a mime hive nearby," the heroine explained, much to the children's confusion. They looked at her like she was crazy, not missing how antsy Ray was.

"I expect this from Captain Man, but not you, M-D. Are you thinking of bees?" Chapa asked dryly, unable to believe such outlandish, childish nonsense.

"No! We're not making this up!" (y/n) exclaimed indignantly, clinging to her husband's arm as he frantically looked around for this so-called hive. "Mimes work together, they live in hives, and they protect their Mime Queen at all costs! Trust us!"

"I do not trust you..." Miles replied slowly, staring at the couple warily. He couldn't trust them, not when she spouted such nonsense, and he fondled any bit of flesh he could reach. Still, Ray didn't need their faith, nor did he seek their permission, returning to glare at the mime and bark his orders.

"Talk! Tell me where your hive is!"

"He's not gonna talk!" Mika yelled back, wondering when the man would learn, not that he'd listen.

"We'll see about that..." Ray growled before reaching for his belt, fingers fumbling angrily as he searched for his laser remote. In his experience, although unpleasant, a little pain and zapping here and there often loosened a criminal's lips. Even if the children disapproved, he shot a few orange bolts at the mime's shoulder, searing his skin a little - not enough to scar, but just enough to make him yelp.

"Talk! Talk! Talk!" He snapped, zapping the guy three times until the mime clutched at his chest, a mournful expression turning his face sour. He was an excellent actor and didn't break character through the mild torture.

"Okay, this guy's good! He's gotten me twice so far. I say we just let him have the bread, you guys."

"No!"

"Stop!" The children groaned as the hero stopped his interrogation and smiled cheesily. That's what the crook wanted--to lure them into a false sense of security, but they knew better. Plus, the bread wasn't theirs to give away like some two-cent fairground prize.

"Doofus, our job is to protect the bread, not give it to the first person who smiles at you!" His sweet girl said, chastising him, but Ray just whined like a little kid.

"But he wants it! Look, he's hungry!" He said petulantly, grinning as their captive pretended to tuck a handkerchief into his collar, rubbing his tummy like he'd not eaten in a week. The man felt sympathy for him yet failed to realise that the mime could just go to the bakery and buy fresh, non-mouldy bread.

"Well, he can go and whistle for it 'cause he's not getting a single crumb!"

"He's got a little bib going..." Ray sighed, amusedly watching the mime's antics even as his beloved wife scolded him. He was in a world of his own, absentmindedly patting the small of her back as Mika groaned and rolled her eyes.

"Cap..." she called out, but his stare remained blank and vacant.

"CAAAAAPPPPP!" The girl said louder, her flat tone finally reaching him when (y/n) whacked his shoulder and flicked his ear. The man blinked a few times, turning to his wife with a slight pout since he didn't like being on her wrong side, but the annoying noise of Mika talking to him soured his mood.

"WHHHHHAAAAAAT?" He replied in the same monotone drone, flashing the whites of his eyes when they rolled back in disgust. Would they ever stop pestering him?

"Let's try something else," she suggested, gracefully brushing past his rudeness when her friends slapped him again. Giving her a grateful smile, she turned to the mime, studying him closely.

"Like what?"

"What if we just played along? Let's let him do his mime games, and maybe he'll like us and tell us something," The girl grinned hopefully, making her teachers exchange a thoughtful look. At least they were considering it.

"If he won't speak our language, let's try speaking his..." Her brother added pensively, circling the glum-looking mime as he gently placed a friendly hand on his shoulder. He agreed with her; he'd always been the hippie type, and it was much better than lasering the poor guy.

"Oh, no! I sure hope no one throws an imaginary rope around me!" Mika exclaimed in a weird voice, drawing puzzled frowns from her friends.

Her cheery, overly enthusiastic attitude wasn't natural. She sounded like she was on a TV commercial or as if she'd had a brain transplant, especially when she smiled like that - a little too brightly for sanity. It didn't impress Ray or Chapa, the latter of whom folded her arms and glared because it was stupid. There was no way she'd do that.

"What?" They said together flatly, but it worked on the mime. He perked up instantly, turning that frown upside down when he finally understood ShoutOut's meaning. Snapping his head in her direction, they smiled gently at each other, radiating hope, peace, rainbows, and everything else Chapa hated.

"Because then I'd have no choice but to get pulled in." That had the stripey-shirt-wearing man leaping excitedly, as giddy as a schoolboy, to join her little game. As Mika began to jovially run away, he expertly mimicked taking an imaginary rope from his imaginary belt before spinning it around his head like a lasso and tossing it in her direction.

"Oh no! I'm running away!" She announced in that fake voice before she was caught, arms glued to her sides like he'd tied her up. "He's got me!"

"He got you! He totally got you!" Ray exclaimed, happily pointing to the mime's antics as he began to pull the girl toward him in solid and dramatic tugs. Someone changed his tune quickly...

"Do me next! Do me! Rope me!"

"Doofus, watch out!" (y/n) gasped when he pushed past her, Miles, and Chapa, utterly charmed by the mime's innocent act.

It was a world away from how he'd threatened and assaulted him, jumping up and down with his hand above his head. He volunteered as tribute, ignorant to the tired, shaking heads behind him. Was this a good idea?

Ten minutes later, the mime had added to his posse.

He'd managed to rope - literally and figuratively - Mika, Ray, (y/n), and Miles, lashing them together with his invisible lasso. They didn't struggle, playing his little game with bright smiles and good sportsmanship - everyone except Chapa.

The moody girl refused to stoop so low, hovering on the sidelines with crossed arms and a joyless expression as she watched in disdain. She couldn't believe them, watching as they fell for its tricks one by one, huddling together until (y/n) was pressed against her husband's side and her fellow students were tucked under her arms. Utterly ridiculous.

""Uh-oh, we're tied up!" They exclaimed, clamouring loudly about how fun it was, how clever the mime was, and how they were finally getting through with him. All of which Chapa resented.

"Now, you gotta do Volt next!" She scowled at Ray's suggestion, throwing him a killer glare as she leaned against the door.

"Tie up, Volt!"

"Yeah, do Volt!" Their endlessly irritating cries came, and she huffed and puffed at how they encouraged the alabaster-faced criminal. It got worse when he flashed a saccharine grin and began to spin his invisible lasso above his head, intent on roping her into it.

"Nope. Not doing it," Chapa stated firmly, turning her nose up at the thought, even when they begged and pleaded.

"Come on! You're in Paris! Give in to the whimsy!" (y/n) said teasingly, feeling a muscular arm curling around her waist. She wasn't keen either but quickly found the fun in the mime's horseplay since it gave her a great excuse to stand closer than proprietary usually deemed acceptable to her doofus.

"Whimsy! Whimsy! Whimsy!" The Macklin twins chanted as Ray dipped his head to smooch his beloved wife's cheek.

He'd definitely succumbed to the whimsy, holding her tightly as the children caused their raucous. Glancing up from her soft skin and sweet-smelling hair, the man smiled when he saw Chapa budge an inch, slowly - very slowly - edging toward her friends in little jumps as she fought off a grin.

"She's moving! She's playing along!" He exclaimed, laughing when the girl finally gave in and showed that beautifully rare smile, side-stepping closer to them with every yank of the pretend rope. By the end of it, spurred on by the chant, she was entirely into it, leaping toward the group like no one was watching - even Chapa had a little child inside her who wanted to play.

"Man, I told you this guy was good!" Ray noted as she wiggled close to him, beaming at her teacher due to her good mood. It was a little disconcerting, but they went along with it, happily huddling together as the mime crept away. He had them right where he wanted them...

"That's it, case closed. He's gettin' the bread."

"He's not gonna get the bread, doofus," (y/n) giggled as she rested her cheek against his chest, so entranced with his handsomeness and the thumb stroking her hipbone that she didn't notice anything behind her.

It was just the chattering children, her, and her husband, who slowly reached down to kiss her gently - the best distraction.

"Ew, do you guys have to do that when you're so close to us?" Chapa grimaced, looking up from her excited conversation to see them locking lips. She could even practically feel the pleasured rumbling coming from the hero's chest and gagged when (y/n/n) cupped his cheeks happily - vomit-worthy.

"I think it's the romantic atmosphere. Do you see how he clung to her this morning when they left the--"

"Hold up!" Miles gasped, interrupting his sister's idealistic and romantic rambling, when he noticed something weird. While they'd been talking, kissing, and God knows what else, the mime had disappeared to rummage through their bag of useless weapons; only some of them weren't so useless.

"What's happening?"

"Uh, is this still part of his act?" (y/n) gulped nervously, feeling rather stupid as she separated from her lover to see how the mime had literally tied them up. Even though he'd used Bose's bizarre slinky, he'd wound it around their bodies tightly, forcing them together until he had a nice little bundle of superheroes under his control, stuck and helpless in the multicoloured tangle.

"Yeah, let him do it, sweet girl! Don't worry!" Ray reassured her, returning to focus his lips on her jawline since he wasn't worried. He could protect her immediately, although the mime was utterly harmless in his mind.

"I thought the whole thing with mimes is that they only pretend to do real things," Chapa noted, her happiness gone and replaced with her signature moodiness. But this time, it was justified, seething at the guy as he pulled the slinky tight, squeezing her abdomen uncomfortably. She knew this was a bad idea, but nooooo...

"No, the thing about mimes is they make invisible honey," Ray explained, not that it helped their nerves.

"Again, bees." Mika sighed, wondering how his imagination worked, but then, an obnoxious laugh broke her from her panicked thoughts. A very irritating, French-flavoured laugh from the man across the room.

"What are you laughing at, French fry?" (y/n) sneered as she turned to Monsieur Man, thoroughly irritated to learn that he'd witnessed their whole failure.

He stood in the doorway to the other side of the cafe, nursing yet another coffee as he watched bemusedly, highly entertained by how his American cousin floundered so spectacularly. But he didn't react to her sore-loser sourness, flashing her that charming smile again like he did with all the ladies and nodded toward the entrance.

With a small amount of strained effort, the group shuffled around to see what he was looking at, feeling faint when they faced a band of more merry mimes.

Ray gasped loudly when he countered three more pasty-faced men, one clutching Napoleon's pants as the other two flanked a lady mime.

She wasn't just any old weirdo, though, staring at them down her nose with pursed lips. There was something different about her than the others, not just the small accents of red in her outfit; above her white face and stencilled eyebrows, a pretty little crown sat nestled on her pinned-up hair, a symbol of authority in the mime world.

"It's more mimes!" Miles cried, suddenly feeling like a sitting duck as he accidentally elbowed Mika in the ribs when he jerked in surprise.

"They've come from their hive!" Ray growled, glad he'd taken his chance to wrap an arm around his sweet girl, protectively holding her against his chest. She turned in his arms to hold onto the kids, pulling Miles and Mika closer as she glared at the head mime, knowing she was as vicious as they came.

"Is that...a Mime Queen?" Mika gulped, leaning back into the woman for comfort as the Queen pretended to act something out, holding a blue plate with a slice of toast.

"And is she squirting invisible honey on a piece of toast?"

"Of course she is!" Captain Man exclaimed angrily, silently furious with himself for being duped so quickly when he knew their tricks so well. "I told you I'm right about everything!"

"Stop gloating, doof! They're...laughing at us..." (y/n) breathed out, her mouth dropping open when she indignantly watched all four mimes bent over, laughing their lungs out. They pointed and giggled, chuckled, chortled, and barked like a pack of hyenas, much to their anger.

But no matter how much the team struggled, growled, or begged, they couldn't get free. The slinky was surprisingly sturdy, so knotted and jumbled that the links couldn't be undone, even if Chapa bit it, if Ray puffed out his chest, if (y/n) yanked it, or if the twins tried to untie it. Watching them struggle, muttering curses and harsh words as they knocked against each other, was hilarious, and the mimes retreated to the corner to plot revenge.

With their enemies rendered useless, they turned to the Mime Queen for orders, hissing and giggling as they imagined all the fun of stealing the national treasures before their eyes.

"We gotta stop those mimes!" Chapa exclaimed as the others tugged her one way and tossed her another. And to make matters even better, Monsieur Man sat on the sidelines, chuckling at every slip-up they made.

"I'm trying. I'm just stuck!" Miles replied curtly, squirming against his friends and teachers to try and loosen their bonds, but it was no good. Bose was really ahead of the curve with that goddamn slinky.

"I can't believe this stupid thing actually works..." Ray mumbled to himself, furious that he had his sweet girl pressed against him, gyrating, and he couldn't do a damn thing. Not to mention that his young protégés were at risk like fish in a barrel, and to top it all off, that smug idiot was loving every second.

"...and stop laughing!"

"Stop being funny!" Monsieur Man shrugged, his shoulders shaking mirthfully, much to the other hero's fury.

It was too much for poor ShoutOut, who felt the pressure of every more than most - the mimes, that asshole, their infuriating bonds, the urge to protect the treasure, the reputation of her whole country on their shoulders. Succumbing to the stress, she released an almighty scream from deep within her diaphragm, reverberating so powerfully that it blew the door shut and knocked the mime squad over.

"It worked!" Mika gasped softly, shocked that she'd managed to activate her super-scream when it was typically so elusive.

"About time..." Ray muttered quietly, earning himself a sharp jab to his elbows from his wife.

The kids were slowly but surely getting better at their powers, which Miles proved when he wormed an arm free and managed to thrust it in the arm. He vanished from the huddle, and with his disappearance, the slinky loosened enough to drop to their feet. Now, the tables had turned.

"Hey! Nice job, AWOL!" Miss Danger exclaimed gleefully when she took her first unencumbered breath for the first time in fifteen minutes. The group immediately jumped apart, scared to be roped together again, even if the Mime Queen and her minions were still winded on the floor.

"Where'd he go?" Chapa asked, scouring the room for her teleporting friend, but he was nowhere to be seen. He could've gone anywhere in the world knowing the unreliability of his superpower. Still, there was no time for a debate.

The Mime Queen recovered from the minor attack relatively quickly, and her subjects followed when she got to her feet. She put up her fisticuffs, ready to battle the heroes to her last breath, glaring at them as they shook off the shock of Miles' teleporting.

"Who cares?! It's queen-punchin' time!" Ray barked, dancing on his toes like a boxer as he readied himself for a fight - and boy, he wanted to sink his teeth into it. (y/n) copied his movements, drawing her fists close to her face as the kids did the same, following his lead.

"Ahhhhhhh!" Ray bellowed his battle cry, brawny arm raised high above his head as he charged, desperate to pound the Queen into the ground. She met his attack with equal tenacity, leaping with the grace of a ballerina before she brought her fist down on his cheek.

The hero tumbled to the ground like a sack of potatoes, dazed by the brutal blow as the other mimes circled his sidekicks. They were efficient, keeping (y/n), Mika, and Chapa away from their boss as the Mime Queen beat him while he was down - not very sporting of her. She kicked and clawed at him, trying to squish his skull with the pointed heel of her boot, and it was more than Ray's job's worth to swiftly roll out of the way before he was jelly on the floorboards.

"Captain Man!" (y/n) called out worriedly, dodging the mime who tried to drag her around by her hair as she watched her beloved doofus rolling around to preserve his life. The woman was vicious, snarling with each foot stamp, but she had to trust him to care for himself.

Mika and Chapa relied on her expertise to keep the mimes at bay as they battled to protect the treasure. The former wrestled with one to retrieve Napoleon's pants while the latter worked with her teacher to throw another against the wall. Monsieur Man nearly spilt his espresso as the mime bashed against it with a groan.

Still, he was amused anyway, thinking Miss Danger looked very pretty in her uniform. He sighed contently as she held the mime by the throat, unabashedly slamming his head against the bricks as Chapa dusted her hands off.

Across the room, Ray had escaped the Mime Queen's clutches, taking his chance to swipe her feet out from under her. Luckily for his French cousin, he didn't see how his soft eyes followed her, wondering what it would be like to have a pretty assistant like her to fight by his side. And what a sight she made, tossing another mime into Chapa's hold, only to roughly throw him to the ground.

"Waaaaaah!" Mika shouted as she tried to activate her scream on her opponent as he whimpered on the floor, still refusing to release the pants. "Okay, this worked a few minutes ago!"

"Miss Danger, get over here and help me with the queen!" Ray yelled to his wife, making her anxiously dart from him to the children and the remaining artefacts on the counter. She'd fight by his side in a heartbeat, but a hand on her arm stopped her.

"What the--?"

"We have to secure the treasures!" ShoutOut implored, knowing they'd merely stupefied the miming minions. They'd only need a minute to recover and swipe the treasures again - Ray would surely be okay on his own.

"Who cares about the treasures? Give me my wife!" The man argued, ducking and weaving against the evil woman before him. "We gotta take out this queen before she lays any more eggs!"

"Eggs?!" Chapa gasped, having never heard anything so weird and grotesque.

She didn't want to know how that was possible, but she didn't have time to question it, watching when Ray tried to punch the Queen several times. He gave her a succession of swift, straight lefts and rights. Still, she miraculously evaded them, floating like a butterfly and stinging like a bee.

"What?" He mumbled when she mimed, moving something out of the way, distracting him for a split second. It was long enough for her to whack him across the face, much to Monsieur Man's amusement, as he tumbled to the floor.

"Oh, shut up, you smug ass!" (y/n) growled at him before rushing over to her husband, unnecessarily worried, but she couldn't help it. "Doofus, are you all right?!"

"I'm fine, darlin'..." The hero swiftly reassured her with an enamoured smile, wiping his lip to chase away the fleeting pain before lightly gathering her in his arms. There was no time for more comfort, but it was enough to quell her worries until he picked up a smooth, pale object from behind the counter. Well, that was worrying, and he turned to Chapa with a stern frown.

"Eggs that hatch into mime larvae! Keep up!" He growled, his tone varying wildly from how he gently addressed his sweet girl as he brandished the disturbing egg at the girl.

The Mime Queen didn't take too kindly to her enemy holding one of her...children and angrily yanked it from his dirty mitts before kicking him in the guts. The brutal blow knocked the wind out of Ray, who grunted and panted as (y/n) turned a disgusted and shocked scowl at her. She didn't take too kindly to see her husband hurt.

"Hey!" She shouted, pointing an angry finger at the nonchalant Queen as Ray hunched over the counter. "No one kicks my doofus!"

In a daring, deadly charge, the heroine took everyone by surprise and tackled the Queen, pulling her to the ground for what could only be called a bitch fight. Straddling the woman's torso as she blinked up at the ceiling, she slapped her silly across the face, hoping to rearrange her pointed features or, at the very least, make it sting.

After pummelling her cheeks a little, she scrambled to her feet, dragging the Queen with her as the children watched with wide eyes and mouths. God...remind them never to threaten her husband. She was lethal, taking the lady mime by her collar and launching her over the counter without mercy - it was less than she deserved.

With the Mime Queen down, the mimes resumed their fight, brawling with the children as Ray straightened and rushed over to his breathless girl.

She couldn't be hotter in his eyes, worthy of a thousand kisses, not that the girls cared if they shared them now. Chapa was busy with her mime, trying to zap him with some electricity to retrieve the Daft Punk helmet. Still, he was too slippery, slapping her hand away at the last minute.

The scarlet lightning missed him and flew to Mika instead. Goddamn, it burned her skin like hellfire, pulling one of her ear-splitting screams from her throat, which luckily took down the mime. Unfortunately, as he tumbled, he crushed the precious helm, shattering it into a million billion shards.

It was neither Daft nor Punk, just fragments of something formerly great, making the kids cringe as the treasures fell through their fingers.

"Sorry!" ShoutOut exclaimed woefully as she stared at the ruined helmet, feeling endlessly guilty since the scream was unintentional - indeed an accident, but tell that to the people of France.

"It's okay..." her friend said breathlessly, more thankful for the rescue than the loss of the treasure.

Still, as she took a breather, Ray and (y/n) were plunged into the fray again as the Queen snuck up behind them, enacting her revenge by curling an arm around (y/n)'s throat. She had a little foresight, sensing the encroaching danger soon enough to jam a hand between them, but it was a barbaric attack.

"Can't...breathe..." she gasped, flailing against the Queen and the iron grip threatening to crush her windpipe. Ray was ready to kick the woman's head in, seeing red when his wife's eyes narrowed, fighting to free herself, but Chapa moved quicker.

Thinking on her feet, she grabbed the first weapon she saw - the beloved mouldy baguette that Marie loved so much. She didn't hesitate as she seized the slightly squishy yet stale French stick. She only saw the desperate need to free her friend as she stormed forward, brandishing the disgusting thing.

"All right, lady. Ba-guette wrecked!" She exclaimed, particularly proud of her sick quip as she cracked the bread over the Queen's shoulder, making her release the heroine and collapse.

Breathless, (y/n) fell against Ray's chest, unbothered by the mouldy crumbs all over her uniform since she was safe and unharmed, with only a few bruises for her super-regeneration to heal. Even Ray was stunned, instantly holding his sweet girl, but damn...

"Ba-guette wrecked?" He echoed incredulously, but there was a grateful glint in his eyes as the girl nodded sheepishly. "Okay, Chapa..."

"Thanks, kid," (y/n) said graciously, rubbing at her sore throat as her doofus smiled proudly and tittered over her health. She was fine, but the same couldn't be said for Mika, who'd been left to face the mime minions while they battled the Queen.

"Uh, little help?" She called out awkwardly, struggling with one of the henchmen as he took inspiration from his lady and encircled her in a deadly embrace.

Still, he was no queen, merely holding onto the girl for dear life as was his duty, so it didn't take much for her friends to free her. Glancing at one another, the couple and Chapa turned to the mime with bared teeth, threateningly stepping forward and screaming like they were about to tear him limb from limb.

It was enough to scare him shitless, and he released Mika without hesitation, making a break for it like only a mime could.

"Thanks..."

"No problem." The girls smiled at each other as (y/n) squeezed Ray's hand, glad to have a moment to breathe now that the mimes were scattered. They'd done pretty well to say they'd lost a third of the team, but the peace didn't last, not when Miles randomly teleported back into the room.

He'd been across the ocean and back, bursting here, there, and everywhere before finally returning to his friends, eager and ready to fight. Unfortunately, he was a tad tardy, looking around for any enemies while his friends clutched at their heaving chests - did he have to sneak up on them like that?

"Aw, man. I missed my chance to punch a mime?" The boy whined after squealing, visibly deflated, when he realised that every mime was either unconscious or gone.

Still, he wasn't disappointed for long, not when a loud, obnoxious, high-pitched alarm balled through the cafe, bathing its walls and residents in red light. The heroes looked around suspiciously, wondering if it was another mimey trick or something else to worry about. Yet, Monsieur Man leapt to his feet in delight, bounding over to them with all the energy and friendliness of a Golden Retriever.

"The strike! She is over!" He announced joyfully, much to their confusion. It had barely been going on for a day - how could it be over already when they'd only just arrived?

"What?"

"Yes, the France has purchased me a pretty pink motorcycle," the smarmy hero explained, casually flicking through his social media before beaming at his stunned American counterparts. "Now, beep, beep, beep! Out of my way! I am Monsieur Man! Ha-ha!"

"God, I hate him..." (y/n) sighed as she watched the Parisian disappear through the entrance, skipping like a little girl at the thought of riding through the city on his bike, golden locks billowing in the wind. Well, as long as his garlicky smell was as far away from her as possible, she didn't care, tucking herself into Ray's side, smiling at his grumpy face.

Some use he was; he could've at least stayed to help them round up the mimes before running off to play with his new toy, but no matter. The team were used to getting their hands dirty and doing all the work, so they gathered the mimes and their Queen up in no time.

Bose's slinky - who Miles reported was safely at the Man's Nest like they feared - helped bind them together in a tit-for-tat style. They huddled in the middle of the room, snapping and gnashing their teeth like wild animals as Chapa helped (y/n) finish the final knot, ready for the cops to collect them.

They thought it was a job well done, clapping each other on the back and taking a minute for themselves when Marie burst into Hip Hop Paris. She looked like she'd run halfway across the city, stray hairs flying away from her sweaty face as she fixed her gaze on them. Miss Danger would bet ten dollars she knew what she was about to say...

"Captain Man! Mademoiselle Danger! The strike! She is--"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. She's over. We heard." Ten dollars to her. She was ready to go home, tiredly tucking herself into Ray's side as he wrapped an arm around her waist. France was a little too hectic for them--and a little too weird.

"Did you protect our French national treasures?" Marie asked in concern, only to pale when the couple and their sidekicks winced guiltily. They could barely look her in the eye, let alone explain that they'd either been crushed or smashed.

"Well..."

"Uhhh..."

"Not even a little," Chapa replied in her signature deadpan, barely using a fraction of the remorse or tentativeness as her friends. She stood with her arms folded, not flinching when Marie's face fell because what was done was done. They'd defeated some mimes; that was something.

"Hey, the pants made it," Miles exclaimed when the yellowish garments caught his eye, having been discarded by one of their opponents during the fight. They looked a little dusty, but otherwise, they were perfectly unscathed, and he bent down to pick them up for the concerned hostess.

"Oh, wait, AWOL--" (y/n) started, reaching out to try and explain that old clothing tended to be delicate and easy to rip, but she was too late. The boy didn't reach for the board behind the pants; instead, he grabbed the leg, accidentally tearing the stitching when he pulled it too hard - and Napoleon's trousers were ruined forever.

"Never mind..." she muttered timidly, cringing when Miles stood up with the material still clenched in his fist.

"My bad. That's on me." At least he was noble enough to admit his mistake, not that it comforted the woman.

"What are we going to do?" She cried, tears gathering in her eyes, which never moved from where the pants formally laid, unharmed and relatively pristine. How was she supposed to tell the nation that the ones they'd hired to protect them were no better than the ruffians who wanted to steal them?

"Oh, well. We...are gonna go home," Ray told her awkwardly, looking at his pretty girl, who eagerly nodded despite her morality saying otherwise. She didn't want to stick around for the angry mob to come with their pitchforks and torches, and Ray much preferred his own bed for many reasons, eyeing the door as Marie glared.

"You cannot just leave!" She exclaimed haughtily, not that the hero gave a damn - he didn't answer to anyone...well, no one but his wife. "You came here, made a lot of dust-up, and destroyed all of our stuff!"

"Well, y'know..." (y/n) said awkwardly, not knowing how to explain it other than... "America."

"Nice one, sweet girl..." Ray chuckled in her ear as Marie tossed her arms in the air and marched off, undoubtedly to clean up the mess they'd made.

Still, she left their exit clear, and the group happily tiptoed toward the door now that they'd escaped a major telling-off.

"Can we go home, please?" She asked sweetly, smiling up at her doofus as he squeezed her hand. How could he refuse a request like that? He felt utterly exhausted after such a dramatic and lengthy trip, and nothing sounded like a better remedy than curling up with her in their bedroom to watch a cosy rom-com--one of her favourites, preferably.

So, leading her by the hand with the children following like chatting ducklings, he guided the team toward the door...only to be halted again. Ray had to grit his teeth to stop swearing, especially when he recognised the smooth, shiny head that ambled through the door like nothing was wrong.

Schwoz. He'd soon made himself scarce, the bald little weirdo, fleeing when they could've used another extra body during the battle, even if it were merely a meat shield. But something was off, namely the gorgeous woman with her arm wrapped around his shoulders. He didn't...did he?

"You guys! I met the love of my life!" He announced with one of the brightest smiles (y/n) had ever seen, and despite her tiredness, the romantic sight lightened her heart.

She could see why Schowz had fallen for the lady; she was tall, cheery, and beautiful, with her hair falling around her face in soft curls, pretty pink makeup, a flowery dress, a matching scarf, and an elegant handbag. She was everything and more for the handyman, who beamed with such a delicate creature on his arm, even if she was almost double his height.

"Aw..." she murmured, melting when the lovebirds smiled at each other, yet Ray wasn't so touched.

"We're leaving," he ordered curtly before seizing (y/n)'s hand and dragging her through the door. She could barely steal another glance at the couple, feeling like she was losing her real-life rom-com before she could sink her teeth into it. Talk about a killjoy.

"Doofus!" She exclaimed, digging her heels into the ground as he marched into the street, barely looking back at her.

"But I just found true love!" Schwoz argued, refusing to give up his beloved's hand when he'd dreamed of this moment all his life. It wasn't fair; everyone else, even Ray, with all his flaws and failings, found their soulmate, so why couldn't he? It was heartbreaking, especially when a rough hand grabbed his shoulder.

"I said, we're leaving!" The man hauled him through the door, and the love of Schwoz's life slipped through his fingers like sand. They stared at each other mournfully as the children hurried past, not wanting to be entangled in something so complex.

Even the captured mimes looked gloomy, which (y/n) didn't miss as she tripped over her feet on the way out. One look at Schwoz's wobbly bottom lips and teary eyes and her feet glued to the pavement, stopping abruptly in the street, much to the frustration of several baffled Parisians.

And if she stopped, the others stopped too, refusing to leave Miss Danger behind, even though they could weirdly ignore the genius' silent hiccups and sobs.

"Doofus, what are you doing?" She asked coldly, although when Ray whipped around, he saw more confusion in her face than disgust.

"You said you wanted to go home..." he replied simply, shrugging as if nothing was wrong despite her folded arms and Schwoz's trembling form. "So, we're going home."

"And what about everything back there?"

"What are you talking about?" He frowned, much to his wife's apparent disgusted shock. She stepped away from him as the kids looked at the couple with blank stares, wondering what to do since they were having a bit of a domestic.

They deemed it best to step to the side and start their own conversation; experience told them that fights and arguments were vanishingly rare and often ended before they barely started. They discussed everything from the weather to the dichotomy of good and evil - anything to give them space.

"Okay, don't be doofus all your life," (y/n) groaned, giving him a mildly bemused but mostly exasperated look. Even he wasn't that dense, merely playing coy because he knew she was irritated. "I'm talking about Schwoz and that French woman. Y'know, the love of his life."

"So?" Ray asked, tentatively placing his hands on her hips. He was gently surprised to realise that she wasn't totally pushing him away.

She sighed and returned the touch, reaching up to fiddle with the zip on his tunic, knowing that he could be unnecessarily, stupidly, ridiculously dense sometimes. But she knew deep down that he wasn't cruel, just...silly. Such a silly doofus.

"So, he should go be with her. You can't just rip them apart!" The heroine exclaimed, and Schwoz nodded weakly, pining for his sweetheart. He wanted to go and take her in his arms, just as Ray did with his sweet girl, but he wouldn't move with permission, too fearful of what the hero would do.

"Eh, he'll get over it..." the man replied casually before taking her soft hand. He wanted to take her home more than anything, eager to board the first plane and forget everything about this irritating trip, but (y/n) would budge, standing still with a face like thunder.

"Raymond..." she said firmly, taking his face in her hands so he could look into her eyes. "What if we lost our chance like this?"

"What...?" Ray gasped, heart fluttering at the implication, even if vague.

He didn't question anything to do with her, too thankful that he'd landed the girl of his dreams to want to know what his life would be like if he one day woke up to find out everything was a dream. The thought felt like a knife through his heart, turning the man with unwavering nerves into a shuddering mess.

"What would you have done if, all those years ago, someone took me away from you and said to get over it?" (y/n) proposed softly as the same emotions ran through her mind.

It was unimaginable; they were so solid and dependable, the couple everyone could rely on to always be together because they were soulmates. They were the universe's plan, star-crossed, and whatever else, snuggling closer when they wondered...what if they never fell in love?

"I'd rip their head off," Ray said quietly, and (y/n) didn't argue when he wrapped his strong arms around her as if he was terrified she'd disappear.

They were silent for a minute, hearing nothing but Schwoz's deep breaths and the children's debate over smooth orange juice or the one with bits in it. He kissed her head gently, so thankful he could say his ring was on her finger. "I'd go through hell for you, darlin."

"And I'd do the same for you..." she promised, pecking his cheek before pulling back to look at him with a soft smile, sighing.

"So, don't you think Schwoz deserves the same?"

"But sweet girl...it's Schwoz!" The hero exclaimed, glancing at the sorrowful genius, who looked worse for wear. Even Ray could see how torn up he was, and he felt a little bad, but come on... It wasn't like any of his relationships ever succeeded--like Ray could talk about his past flings.

"But doofus...nothing! Send him back there, or I'm not sitting next to you on the plane!" It was an empty threat; (y/n) always had to sit next to her doofus, needing to hold his hand on take-off so she'd never make him bunk with one of the kids.

Still, it inspired a slight panic in the hero, who gasped in horror and held her tighter at the thought of sitting beside...Chapa.

"You wouldn't!"

"Oh, I would! Come on, doofus...do it for me. And for Schwoz. And for the Frenchy lady," she argued, soothingly rubbing his chest while fluttering her eyelashes - tempting and convincing him in only a way she could.

Ray sighed, weighing up every option. He hated the idea of losing Schwoz, knowing more than anyone that when a man fell in love, he'd forsake his every faculty and responsibility to pledge his devotion to her instead. He'd undoubtedly move out and start a new life, and he'd lose one of his oldest friends - that's why he was cruel...to be kind.

"...Fine. But just because I love you." After a few minutes, he heaved a heavy sigh, meeting Schwoz's gaze, who hoped with all hopes to have the green light. One nod toward the café, and his face lit up like a Christmas tree, shouting a million thanks before sprinting toward the love of his life and all the possibilities she could hold.

"I'll take it!" (y/n) squealed, looping her arms around his neck as she held him close, her beaming grin matching Schwoz's and the kids as they silently watched how he ran like the wind. It was weirdly kind for the man, who hated to see him go, but her happiness was worth it.

It would be like that one day; everyone would move on until it would just be them left - just him and his sweet girl. Henry left, and Charlotte, Piper, and Jasper left, too. Danger Force wouldn't last forever, either, and Schwoz wouldn't work for him indefinitely, not when, hopefully, they retired and had kids.

Not everything lasts forever, and Ray was gradually getting used to that fact, reassured that the love of his life was eternal. A love that would last a lifetime.

"Y'know, there's a heart of gold underneath that grumpiness."

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