April is dedicated to the ARROWS. This can be any member of the Arrow extended family (Roynette or any other Arrow: Roy, Mia, Cissie, Connor, Dinah, Oliver, etc.)
Do one prompt! Do them all! Any participation is great! They just serve as ways to encourage that creativity. No Pressure.
This month has both larger prompts and smaller bonus prompts. Use any that inspire you.
April too busy? Save your favourite prompts for later and post when you can. We always accept late submissions - even years later <3
Make sure you tag us so others can more easily see your work:
It was bad. She knew it had to be bad. Why else wouldn't they have heard anything? Why else would they keep her... them! Keep them in the dark? They wouldn't. Unless there was a reason not to tell them... like something really bad had happened and they were trying to mitigate the fallout.
This was far from Adrien’s first mission for the Justice League. They both frequently worked with various members. It wasn’t even his first mission without Marinette. In fact, they went on missions without one another a lot. But there was just something about going on a two-person mission behind the Order’s worst enemy’s lines with someone neither Adrien nor Marinette knew well… or fully trusted if she was being honest, that kicked up the nerves.
It was supposed to be a quick mission. “Two hours max”, they said. “In and out,” they said. “No real danger,” they lied. But that was twelve hours and quite a few anxiety spirals ago. The muscles in her hands were starting to cramp from her fidgeting, her fingers curling and flexing over and over like a compulsion. She had paced around Mia’s apartment so many times, the carpet was beginning to show an indent from her perpetual path.
“It’ll be fine,” Dick assured her. “Lack of information doesn't mean anything. It's just standard operating procedure, really, especially for Constantine.”
Marinette shot him a flat, almost disgusted look. “It’s standard procedure when something goes wrong,” she explained slowly, annoyance starting to seep through. “No contact for twelve hours on a ‘two hour max’ mission, is NOT standard operating procedure.”
Dick held up his hands. “I’m just saying I don’t think there’s a reason to panic yet.”
Zatanna sighed almost grudgingly. She glared at Dick as she spoke up. “I will admit, missions with Constantine often end like this. Things get off track and I don’t think he ever communicates with anyone. It’s kind of a blackout whenever you go out with him.”
Dick rapidly in agreement. “Exactly! It isn’t worth the worry. I just think you should take a breath, let it out slowly, and relax.” To his credit, Marinette did stop pacing, but it was to stare dumbfounded at him.
Meanwhile, Roy let out a loud breath, almost a scoff, and dropped his head, but Mia was far more vocal. “Did you just tell her to calm down?” she demanded. “While she’s in the middle of an anxiety attack?”
Dick looked around, eyes wide. “What? No!” He whipped around to face her. “I would never… I just thought… It’s not productive to just pace here. I thought maybe you might want to go home and relax.”
“Maybe you should go home,” Marinette snapped.
He looked around helplessly for anybody to back him up but nobody would meet his eyes, everyone looking determinedly away. Finally, he nodded and took a seat meekly. Marinette glared a few more seconds before returning to her circuit and abusing her lips and hands once again.
Roy watched her make a few more rounds before reaching his limit. If she chewed any harder on her lip, she was going to draw blood. Marinette was declining and he was not about to just sit back and let it continue. Her purse had been tossed onto the coffee table in front of her so he took the opportunity to search through it until he found what he was looking for. Like any artist, there was a sundry assemblage of drawing utensils at the bottom of her bag, always ready for when inspiration strikes and always too caught up in the euphoria of capturing their vision to put it away properly.
There were colored pencils, pens, markers, acrylic based markers, paint sticks, he even found a few crayons that he knew were likely for Alya’s infant. He rummaged around for a few seconds before pulling out his target. He waited until she passed by again to grab her arm and pull her onto the couch next to him. She barely had a chance to scowl at him and snap, before he held the Sharpie from her bag out to her with one hand. The other hand he settled across her lap, his bare, clean forearm facing up.
Marinette looked between the sharpie and his forearm, her brow furrowing further with each flick. She finally lifted her eyes to his, the furrow deeply embedded and a light frown pulling down her lips. “What are you doing?”
“You’re freaking out,” he said, like that was in any way an adequate or even logical answer to her question. She blinked at him, utterly dumbfounded. The completely nonsensical nature of his response knocked her out of her anxiety spiral, at least temporarily, allowing her to focus on his words. But being able to focus didn’t help at all because no matter how much she focused on his words, she couldn’t make sense of it. When she still hadn’t responded after a while, he continued, “You relax when you draw. I don’t have paper, but you can use my skin.”
Her eyes flickered back and forth between his face and his forearm. “What?”
He waved the sharpie again and motioned toward his forearm, flexing it as he did to accentuate it. “Use my arm as your canvas. Get your anxiety out with it.”
“Really?” she asked uncertainly. “Are you sure?”
He smirked and leaned closer as he waggled his eyebrows. “I mean, I’m willing to give you other ways to work out your anxiety…” he chuckled at the scowl she shot him, but his expression quickly softened into something more sincere. “You can use me however you want, Fire Flower. If what you want to use me for is as a drawing pad, I’m here for you.”
Marinette groaned and rolled her eyes but shot him a small smile as she grabbed the sharpie and repositioned herself so she faced him. He could see it as soon as she got into position, the way her mind instantly settled, and a calm washed over her. It was like the sharpie flipped a switch in her and gave her mind purpose. Her entire body relaxed. All the tension that had been building up for hours dissolved once she had a focus.
The moment the felt tip touched his skin, he could feel her exhale. She held the sharpie in the spot for just a moment before gliding it up into a delicate but simple design. She was drawing for a few minutes before he heard a whispered, “Thank you.”
The grateful tone in her voice, and maybe the way she was almost sitting in his lap or the way he could feel each exhale fan out over his skin, spread a warmth through his body like a wildfire. He leaned forward to drop a lingering kiss on the crown of her head. “Always,” he whispered into her hair.
Her hand faltered slightly at the contact, disrupting the line she had been drawing and breaking the perfect stroke, but she recovered almost flawlessly. She almost seemed unaffected by the move otherwise, but after a few more seconds, she leaned her body against him and rested her head on his chest. The movement almost seemed thoughtless, like a natural movement, made without taking her focus from her art.
She was too focused to notice the reaction in the room to their intimate proximity, but Roy wasn’t. He was all too aware of the looks and knowing smiles. It was a familiar sight. Because this was a familiar position for them. Not the drawing on the skin, but the familiarity and affection. He had been harassed more than once about it. But it hadn’t worked yet, and it wasn’t going to work that night either. He glared at them with a one finger salute to make sure they knew it too.
><><><><><><><><><
It had been two weeks since Adrien had returned from his mission, a bit disheveled, a bit tired, and quite a bit traumatized. But he had returned. And most surprisingly, uninjured… physically anyway. He still shuddered whenever he saw a headband and Marinette was positive she did not want to know the story behind that trauma. Perhaps more disturbingly, since that mission she would occasionally find him staring blankly until she would shake him out of it.
So that night, there was a new mission: Cheer Adrien Up. All of their friends in the area were invited to the party. She’d ordered his favorite food and gotten Adrien’s favorite games and movies ready, she was even considering letting him win a few of them… maybe.
Maybe not. Because not everybody else seemed to have that perspective. A few… okay, maybe just one, brought their competitive spirit and once they started, she just couldn’t back down, especially when Roy started trash talking her.
That was NOT something she could let slide. Roy didn’t need the ego boost and she refused to give up her gaming crown.
They were midway though their sixth head-to-head battle, everyone else having decided watching them play was far more fun than playing themselves, controllers held so tightly knuckles were white, both sitting on the very edge of their seats and still leaning forward to get closer, eyes for nothing but the screen and each other, and yet somehow the tension was getting even higher.
She smirked at him when a particularly creative combination caught him off guard and knocked his player down quite a few percentage points. Unwilling to back down, he narrowed his eyes and pushed his sleeves up to remove any distractions. However, the result was the opposite. Marinette stared at his arm, the controller going lax in her hands. She didn’t even notice when the game ended announcing his first win. Roy jumped up and yelled in celebration, turning to Marinette to rub it in, but froze at the look on her face. Her eyes snapped to his and without saying a word, she grabbed him and dragged him out of the room, still oblivious to the whispers and grins of the people around them.
She pulled him into her room, her hand a vice grip on his wrist. As soon as the door was closed behind them, she rounded on him and shoved his sleeve up to his elbow before he could even react, exposing his newly healed, freshly inked forearm. She stared at it for a few seconds, her eyes following the lines before lifting them up to him accusatorily. “Is this… Did you get my drawing tattooed on your arm?”
“Yeah, a few weeks ago.” He grinned proudly at her, not oblivious to her accusatory glare, if anything, it made his grin widen. “Like it?”
Her face scrunched in an incredulous expression. The action itself was baffling, but the cocky reaction was driving her from bewilderment to indignation. “Why did you get this?”
His smile stayed firmly in place, but it eased into something softer. “I liked it,” he shrugged like it was a no-brainer, an obvious resolution. “I liked the way it looked on my skin, so I inked it.”
She let out a long-suffering breath, something of a cross between a sigh and a groan and pulled his arm closer to study it. The tattoo was an almost perfect replica of her design. The intensity of brush strokes was duplicated, heavier where she’d pushed harder with the marker, thinner where she’d almost ghosted the marker over his skin. Her fingers traced the design with an almost reverent wonder. She paused at an irregularity in an otherwise smooth, unbroken line. “You even got where I messed up,” she murmured.
“Well, yeah,” he shrugged, extremely careful not to dislodge his arm from her grasp. “It’s part of the memory. It’s one of my favorite parts of the design, actually,” he added quietly.
She continued to stare at the imperfection, almost transfixed for a few moments before finally lifting her eyes to his, stealing the breath from his lungs from the awestricken look in her eyes. He raised his other arm to wrap around her waist but dropped it when she finally spoke before he could make contact. “What the hell were you thinking?” she demanded, her voice low and hissing.
He quirked his head to the side at the unexpected tone, taking a second to ascertain if she was serious. “It’s beautiful and I want a piece of you on me forever…” he dropped his eyes to his tattoo, not only as a way to avoid her eyes but to seek a source of reinforcement before continuing with a bit more vulnerability than he usually showed, “and maybe I wanted you to mark me.”
It took a few seconds before he looked up to meet her eyes, hoping to see an affectionate gaze, but instead Marinette was staring daggers at him. “That is the dumbest thing you’ve ever said!” she exclaimed, shoving his arm back at him. She paced away and ran her hands through her hair before turning back to him, her eyes no longer blazing, now closer to pleading. “You’re a hero! You have incredibly dangerous enemies! You can’t just…” she motioned helplessly toward his arm then threw her arms up in the air in frustration. “If someone saw that, they’d know who you were. They could trace your identity because of me!”
He stared at her dumbfounded for a few seconds before chuckling. Cautiously, he approached her like he was afraid she might run away… or hit him. “This is the most romantic thing I’ve ever done and you’re yelling at me?” he asked incredulously, eyes dancing with mirth.
“Dying is not romantic!” she yelled, pushing him away. “You could get hurt because of me. It would be my fault you were hurt!” His chuckles died down at the tortured look in her eyes and the desperate tone to her voice.
He moved to her instantly, wrapping his arms around her before he’d even thought about it, unwilling to let her suffer at all, especially if he could comfort her. He held her tighter when she didn’t pull away. After a few moments he leaned back and ducked his head to catch her gaze. “Marinette, Baby, have you seen my other tattoos?” he asked softly. “Fire Flower, if I was going to get recognized for a tattoo, it’s probably the massive, conspicuous ones on my completely exposed biceps, not the one covered by my gloves that are part of my costume and that I never skip when I go out.”
She stared at him looking for the lie in his words. Finding none, she shook her head and looked down gathering her thoughts, which clearly didn’t go in his favor based on her dipping out of his embrace and groaning. “Roy, we’re not even together!”
His mouth lifted into a smile. That response meant she had accepted that she hadn’t put him in danger. Now, he just needed to convince her that he knew what his action implied and he meant it. “We don’t need to be together for me to love you,” he answered simply.
Marinette opened her mouth then closed it again with a groan and ran her hands through her hair. “You can’t just say things like that,” she whined.
He edged towards her again as his smile morphed into something closer to a smirk. “The truth?”
“Yes! No! Wait.” She let out an exasperated huff then pouted at his widening grin. She shoved him again, but with much less conviction this time. “Stop smiling at me!”
He stepped closer to her, a move that forced her to crane her neck in order to continue to meet his eyes. “No. I like when you get flustered.” He ghosted a finger over her cheek, keeping his touch just shy of making contact but close enough she could feel the movement in the air. His eyes met hers in an intense gaze. “I like everything about you.”
The air left her lungs when he finally made fiery contact, running his knuckles along her jaw this time. His eyes roamed over her face like he was memorizing every curve and contour, they caught on her cheeks when they flared the most delectable shade of pink, the shade quickly became his favorite color, until he met her eyes again and remembered that shade of blue was his favorite.
“Even if we never get together, I know I’ll always care about you. You will always be important to me. You are already carved into my soul. The tattoo might be more visible, but that?” He laid a hand over his heart and shook his head adoringly. “There’s no amount of time or separation or drifting apart or conflict that will take that away. I won’t regret this. Not tomorrow, not next week, not next year, not next lifetime.”
He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer, his heart racing when she went to him easily. “Do you know why that irregularity in the line is my favorite part of the design?” It seemed like it took her a few seconds for her to snap out of her trance and register his words. She shook her head slowly, refusing to break eye contact. “Because it happened as a reaction to me. I did that. I had that effect on you. My kiss did. It was the moment I knew.”
“Knew what?” she asked, her voice soft, almost like she was afraid anything rougher would burst their intimate bubble.
“That I had to act,” he answered in the same tone. “I got the tattoo because I wanted you forever on my body, like you’re forever in my heart, and what I want now is you forever in my life. I’m tired of waiting for the exact right moment for it to happen. I’m tired of waiting for fate or destiny or whatever is out there to provide. I’m taking my fate. I’m creating my own destiny and that’s you. A lifetime of happiness and teasing and laughter and loving together.”
He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear to give her a few moments to let his words sink in, let her internalize them, and consider them fully. “The question is, what do you want?”
She stared at him dumbfounded. The idea of acting was scary. They had always danced along the edge of doing more, flirting with each other and with crossing the line. They’d always shied away just before tipping over. There was so much that was at risk if they did. They were always together, either as part of their larger friend group or by themselves. If anything happened, Marinette didn’t know how she would be able to experience each day. But the prospect of not acting was even more terrifying.
She pushed up to brush her lips against his tentatively. Even after his most ardent declaration, she was still apprehensive of how he would react, terrified he would suddenly realize this wasn’t what he wanted. She wasn’t what he wanted. But before her mind could sabotage her, he wound his hand behind her head, running his fingers into her hair and pulling her harder against him to intensify the kiss. His lips moved greedily against hers like he was afraid he would never get the chance again, almost devouring her. She responded instantly, pulling his body against hers by his shirt then sliding her hands up his chest in part to settle the electricity that was humming through her veins.
After a long, highly pleasurable, while he pulled away just enough to press his forehead to hers, his breathing, like hers, ragged. “I think I want that,” she panted. She opened her eyes to find his already staring at her. The hope in his eyes stole her breath and steeled her resolve. “I want that version of forever.”
His responding grin lit up the dim room. “Let’s start tonight. Will you go on a date with me?”
She opened her mouth to respond but instead of her voice, Adrien’s floated through the apartment. “Dinner’s here!” She snickered and dropped her head to his chest for a few seconds before looking back up, resigned but happy. “I’d love to, tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” Roy agreed. He pecked her lips quickly and led her out to the party, fingers intertwined and smile beaming.
When Roy had seen Marinette wielding his bow, he didn't think he'd seen anything hotter in his life. She had been confident and brutal with her efficiency, managing to wound people with pencils of all things. The goons that had been unfortunate enough to be on the receiving end of one of those were going to need medical attention to have them safely removed.
No, this was definitely the pinnacle of hotness and he was distracted enough that he couldn't put a stop to his own fight easily. Jason was never going to let him hear the end of the fact that he had stepped in to help end it. Roy was fairly sure he was going to care at some point, but right now he just wanted to talk to Marinette again. Fortunately, he had a great excuse because she was still holding his bow.
After Jason stopped trying to antagonise her, Roy thought their conversation was going pretty well. She was blushing and stumbling over her words in a way that boosted his ego greatly and he was on the verge of trying to see if he could convince her to leave with him when she looked at him strangely.
“Shit,” she hissed, eyes widening and blush subsiding completely as she gave him a scrutinising look. “Dammit, of course it's you.”
“Uh, did I miss something?” He asked, voice coming out of the flirty tone he had been using moments before. “Are you okay?”
“I'll be fine, I just should have guessed this. In my defence, I was actively trying not to work anything out but your hair is kind of distinctive,” she said, eye darting around at almost inhuman speed.
“Ready to go?” Tim interrupted, apparently oblivious to Marinette's panic and Roy's realisation that she had totally just worked out who he was.
“Yep! Nice to see you again, R- Arsenal!”
Marinette could feel Arsenal's eyes on her back as she pushed Tim towards his bike.
“Care to explain what the heck is going on?” Tim hissed, glancing back at Arsenal suspiciously.
“Not now,” she sighed, climbing on behind him and poking him to get moving. “I'll tell you about it once you're back in your civvies, okay?”
_ _ _
“Okay, I'm ready for you to explain what the heck is going on now,” Tim said as he slumped into an armchair in the drawing room they'd ended up in.
“So you remember how I needed you to stop Nightwing being an asshole a couple of weeks ago?” She ventured, playing with a thread in her jacket that had come loose during the fight. “Well, that was because I got caught up in a theft and gang fight at the casino. And I was in a shitty mood because I thought I met a cute guy that wasn't an asshole but it turns out he was using me for a cover while he tried to download their servers or whatever.
“Then tonight I find out that it was Arsenal that did it and he was flirting with me again, and now I'm confused and overwhelmed. And I only met him because I was doing that dumb list from Adrien so I feel weird about that too, and I just don't know how to handle all of this and then Red Hood will badmouth me to Batman and-”
“Whoa, nope, not happening Mare,” Tim said, reaching out to stop her. “If Red Hood tries to do that I'll wreck his suit and helmet. But he wouldn't because he doesn't even like Batman most of the time.”
“Okay, but Roy - God, I don't even know if that's his name - is way too attractive for my own good. And if he knows your family I'm going to have to see him again if I want to stay in Gotham-”
“Nope, not allowed to spiral! Listen, Roy - yes, that is his name - isn't a bad guy. If he was flirting with you he meant it. But he's…not really the long-term relationship type. Which, if that's what you're looking for, great! He's usually pretty upfront about how casual he is.”
“Huh, well okay then,” she said, biting her lip and thinking.
“Before you say anything else, I need to tell you that I really don't want to hear any more about your love life if you're going to start hooking up with people I know,” Tim said severely. But he moved over to her sofa and hugged her tight. “And if he hurts you, I'll make it look like an accident.”
_ _ _
Roy followed Jason to Wayne Manor, still unsure what exactly had happened. Was it a little skeevy of him to use his alter ego to flirt with her? Sure, but he knew he'd already blown it as Roy. And she was way sexier than anyone he'd met in a long time.
“Do you think Tim will tell me how he knows her?” He asked, making Jason groan. “What? She clearly knows him and she already worked out my identity.”
“Dude, I get that you wanna hit that, but if she's friends with the replacement then she's probably not as fun as you want her to be,” Jason said, rummaging in the fridge.
“I'm pretty sure she's exactly as fun as I think,” Roy said with a smirk. “Did you see her at the casino? And when she handled my bow-”
“I really don't need to hear any of this,” came Tim's disgusted voice. Roy turned to the door and found him glaring at the pair. “You're in the way of the coffee, jackass.”
“Bite me, Timbo,” Jason said, but there wasn't any real heat. “So, who's your hot friend? And why does she know Red Robin?”
“Her name is Marinette, and it's none of your business,” he fired back, shoving past Roy to pour a fresh cup of coffee.
“I already knew her name,” Roy offered helpfully, taking a half step away from the coffee. “She was something else with that bow earlier.”
“Okay, let's cut the crap, shall we? She already told me how you met the first time and I already warned her that you don't do long term. You should probably apologise for using her as a cover if you want her to talk to you again.”
“That's…surprisingly helpful of you,” Roy said, eyeing the boy warily. He didn't know much about the teen and he didn't think he liked him all that much because of his friendship with Jason.
“Yeah, I'm all heart. Having said that, I want to make something clear. Marinette is a good person who's been through some real shit in her life. If you hurt her, I'll make sure you bleed. Be up front with her and she can make her own decision about what she wants to do.”
Done with his coffee, Tim gave Jason a one finger salute and left.
“You know what, I think I'm starting to respect that little freak,” Jason said when he was sure Tim was gone. “So, planning to shoot your shot with the Pixie?”
“I mean, if Tim thinks I've got a chance…”
He probably would have said more but then Marinette stumbled into the room with an empty mug. She paused when she saw who was in the kitchen but eventually the allure of coffee was too much. Roy was glad he hadn't moved too far from the coffee machine because she stood right beside him to pour a cup.
“Oh, I should go and…yeah, I got nothing. Don't fuck this up, Roy.”
Marinette looked over at Jason with amusement but didn't step away from the coffee, or Roy. She moved quietly, and he tried to think of what to say. She lingered, stirring sugar and milk into her coffee and glancing up at him from under her lashes.
“It's nice to see you again,” he said at last, putting a hand on the counter and leaning over her. “I'm sorry for ditching you at the casino, Jay was being paranoid. Did Dick get you home okay?”
“That's a lot of names,” she blinked, tilting her head. “Am I supposed to know who these people are?”
“Uh, I guess I just assumed…” Roy grimaced as he realised that he absolutely misunderstood how much she knew about the Batfamily and their identities. “You know what, let's just forget about that, focus on the fact that I'm really sorry for how things happened that night.”
“I’m sorry I freaked out, I was pretty drunk,” she said, jumping up onto the counter. She hugged the mug between her palms, looking small and vulnerable. Roy hadn't expected to feel protective of her at that moment but he leaned in. “In my defence, it was a really weird night and I was already kind of keyed up.”
“Drunk you is almost as hot as badass you, if it helps,” he said flirtily. She giggled and sipped her drink. “And if you feel like cutting loose some time, I'm more than happy to help.”
“As much fun as that sounds, I'm not really a one night stand kind of woman. And even if I wanted to be one, starting with someone that knows one of my closest friends seems like a bad idea. So…friends?”
“...sure,” he said, pushing back the disappointment that reared. She was right, hooking up when she was a family friend would be a stupid move.
April is dedicated to the ARROWS. This can be any member of the Arrow extended family (Roynette or any other Arrow: Roy, Mia, Cissie, Connor, Dinah, Oliver, etc.)
Do one prompt! Do them all! Any participation is great! They just serve as ways to encourage that creativity. No Pressure.
Make sure you tag us so others can more easily see your work:
Roy surveyed the bar before making his way in. It had a good size crowd, active but not boisterous, amiable but not overly friendly. Definitely the kind of place he could drink in without having to worry about getting pulled into an unwelcome conversation, or a fight. More importantly, there was an open spot at the bar… next to a beautiful woman.
He moved to take the spot quickly before anyone else realized their mistake at not taking it and ordered a drink. Again, the universe seemed to have blessed him because the bartender hadn’t been paying attention and had set his drink down so close to the woman’s drink it was almost touching hers. He waited a beat then reached for his drink at the same time as the woman, which he may or may not have been, but totally was, intentional. She yanked her hand back like she was afraid he’d snap at her. “Sorry.”
He shot her his most charming, winning smile. “No, it’s completely my fault. I should have been watching where I was reaching.” He took a sip of his drink to give her a chance to do the same or turn away if she had absolutely no interest, he couldn’t be the only one who had hoped to avoid conversation that night. He had changed his mind as soon as he saw her, but that didn’t mean she had.
When she continued to smile in his direction, he took it as an invitation to continue. “My name is Roy,” he started, leaving a lull for her to fill in.
Instead, she hummed and held her drink up to toast him. “Roy, what a beautiful name.”
He snorted. Not the response he was expecting, but he had always appreciated a bit of snark. “Right. Something I hear all the time. How beautiful and completely not red neck my name is.”
She smirked at him but quickly schooled her expression into faux seriousness. “That’s good to hear. You should hear it often. Everyone should be told they’re special.”
“I would love to say that about your name,” he coaxed gently.
She shrugged; her eyes darted away as she took another sip. “I’ve heard it before. I don’t need to hear it again. I’d rather hear about something I control, that I did.”
He nodded, pulling back slightly. That was a feeling he could understand. He wasn’t a fan of false flattery either… okay, maybe he was a fan of it from women he wanted to hook up with, but not from people he wanted a real relationship with and clearly, this woman wasn’t interested in sycophancy. “That’s fair.” So, tell me what it is that you do.”
She snorted and raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “Really?”
“Absolutely,” he nodded confidently. He turned toward her to prove she had his full attention and waited patiently until she responded.
She looked him over appraisingly, like she wasn’t quite sure if he was worth the distraction from her drink. “You first.”
Her voice held a hint of challenge that Roy simply could not back down from. Well, he could, but where would the fun be in that. “I’m a CIA agent,” he announced dramatically.
She rolled her eyes but then leaned closer. “Ooohhh, an overt agent.”
He grinned and waved his hand dismissively while he took another sip. “Secret agents are so Cold War.”
“Tore down the walls and the secrets,” she hummed.
His smile widened impossibly broader and clinked his glass to hers. “Exactly! How about you. What do you do?”
She narrowed her eyes as she thought how to respond, but her lips quirked up in amusement and he knew she wouldn’t refuse. “Create art,” she finally answered. Roy nodded as he took in her response. Again, not the response he’d been expecting. He’d been expecting something snarky, but he couldn’t be upset about the honesty. He started to respond but she continued before he could get a sound out. “… and chaos. More chaos than art if I’m being honest.”
He barked out a laugh and watched as she tipped her glass up to finish the last of her drink, her lips still quirked up, evidence that she was entirely too entertained with herself, which just made him want to draw her out more. But when she turned back to face him, he could see it on her face, that she was going to end their time together. He wasn’t willing to let her do that though. Not yet. Talking with her was the most fun he’d had in quite a while, and he really wanted to continue it. “Let me buy you a drink.”
She eyed him amusedly then hummed and leaned back in her chair, eyes darting away an almost guilty look flashing across her face. “I don't think that's a good idea.”
“Why not?” he asked. His voice was kept intentionally light, non-accusatory, non-demanding. He was having fun and he wanted to keep having fun not pressure her.
She kept her eyes on her glass as she responded, but her body continued to face him. “Might give you the wrong idea.”
“Oh? What idea is that?” Again, his tone teasing and light.
She continued to watch the glass in her hand as if it might answer the question for her. When no answer came forth after a full minute, she finally spoke up. “That I'm looking for a relationship.” He took a beat to register what she said. He had loved their interaction so far and would love to try for a relationship, but he was also willing to take whatever she was willing to give him.
He opened his mouth to offer something less serious, but she cut in before he could. “Or a situationship,” she continued, as if she could read his mind. He bobbed his head to the side and opened his mouth again, but she cut in yet again. “Or a one-night stand.”
He chuckled and nodded. Message received crystal clear. She was not interested in him. But he still wanted to give one last push. “And you're not?”
“I'm not. Not right now. Not yet,” she answered quietly.
He nodded and looked away to mask his disappointment. When he looked back, any remaining disappointment dissolved. Her eyes had unfocused, a flash of something close to the haunted look he was all too familiar with appeared and was gone almost instantaneously. It was that look that convinced him she really did mean what she’d said. It wasn’t him. She was working through something on her own, but damn if he didn’t want to help her get through it and lose that haunted look. “How about a non-committal drink? No expectations, not even to talk. Just to make your night better. I'll even walk away while you drink it.”
“No. I'm not ready for that either,” she finally returned her sad eyes to his. “But thank you, sincerely. You should stay. I’ll walk away. I wasn’t planning on being out long tonight anyway.”
Seeing the troubled look full on was harder than he expected, doubling his desire to make her smile. “I didn’t mean to scare you off. I’m sorry if I came on too strong. I tend to talk without thinking… if I’m being honest, I do a lot of things without thinking. It’s not uncommon,” he joked.
If nothing else, he could walk away feeling like he’d taken a step toward his goal, because her mirthless look dissolved into giggles. “You absolutely did not… scare me off that is,” she assured him genuinely. She took a moment to think about it, cocking her head to the side as she studied him. “Or come on too strong. In fact, you have been the highlight of my night, month… past few actually. I’ve really enjoyed talking with you.”
“I’d give you my number for when you are ready… but I get the feeling you’re not ready for that either,” he offered. There was a bit of hope in his gaze, her giggles earlier had been a good sign, but likely not enough. Healing was never easy even for the healthiest people.
Her smile dampened, but she kept her eye contact, not shrinking from him this time. “No. But I do hope you have a good night.”
He reached out like he was going to pat her arm but pulled back at the last moment and patted the bar instead with a mirroring smile. “You too, beautiful.”
He shifted his eyes to his glass to remove any pressure or make her leaving awkward. And yes, he knew he should have shifted his body from facing her as well, but he didn’t want her to think he was dismissing her, leaving him in this awkward position, body open and face diverted. If Oliver could see him, he’d be appalled at his lack of vigilance while leaving himself so open. To be clear, he could still track movement around him, in fact, better than if he had fully turned to the bar, but Oliver never lost a chance to lecture him.
He didn’t regret the decision though, because from his periphery he could see her stand then hesitate, almost sitting back down, which got his heart racing at the possibility, but ultimately she pushed away from the bar only to pause so a crowd of people could pass. He consciously forced himself to stop registering her movements and ordered another drink, giving himself a second to recover his pride.
Typically, he wouldn’t have let the rejection affect him, especially from a random woman in a random bar when he hadn’t been looking for anything anyway, and especially when she’d let him down so graciously, making it incredibly clear it wasn’t about him. But he’d thought there was a connection and a spark and for a moment he’d had hope.
Suddenly, his world was rocked by a force colliding with him, pressing flush against his body and wrapping their arms around his middle in a tight hug before he could even react. “Mon amor! I missed you.”
Roy blinked down at the figure, his arms wrapping loosely around her before his conscious mind registered that it was the French Fire Flower who had launched herself into his arms. Once his brain fully caught up with the situation, he smirked down at her. “Not that I’m objecting, but I’m getting a bit of whiplash here.”
It was only then that he noted the alarm in her eyes. “Please,” she pleaded quietly.
His arms tightened around her automatically, like a Pavlovian response to that combination of her wide eyes and anxious tone. His eyes flicked over her shoulder and instantly spotted someone shoving people out of the way on their way toward them. He kept his body and face pointed toward her but carefully tracked the man’s movements. “That asshole the reason you’re not ready to date yet?”
She nodded so minutely he wouldn’t have picked up on it if he hadn’t also heard a whispered, “Yes.”
He leaned down like he was whispering sweet nothings to his long-missed lover, only partially pretending to be lost in her touch, as he tenderly ran his hands through her hair. “How long ago was the breakup?”
She swallowed heavily and took a moment before she answered. “A few months. Um… like four.”
He grunted and leaned close enough for his lips to ghost over her ear. “And he’s crawling back?”
“More like creeping back like Jason Voorhes,” she grumbled. “Just keeps coming back no matter how many times I shut him out and more aggressively each time.”
“Hey, fucker! Get your hands off my girlfriend!” the man roared the instant he broke through the last of the groups around them.
The moment the words started coming out of his mouth Roy could feel the woman freeze and almost cower away from his anger. Roy eyed him up and down, an icy hardness in his gaze as he stood and pushed her slightly behind him, but still keeping her hugged up against his side. The man was smaller than Roy, not in height, but in breadth. Where the man was lithe and fit, Roy was muscular and solid. The comparison became more apparent when Roy turned to face off against the man. “Excuse me?” he growled.
To his credit, the man only slightly faltered, almost imperceptibly and seemed to recover quickly. “I said,” he reiterated, standing up even taller to glare back at Roy, “Get. Your. Hands. Off. My. Girlfriend.”
Roy could feel her groan more than hear it. She opened her mouth to bite back but Roy interrupted before she could. “I’ll touch my wife however and whenever I want to. That’s why I married her in the first place.”
Her eyes widened and her body stiffened for just a moment, but thankfully she appeared to recover quickly, pasting on a smile and pretended to melt into his side. It was convincing enough the tension could easily be written off as due to the confrontation, not an unexpected lie.
“You got fucking married?” He demanded glaring at her. He tried to shove into her space, but Roy moved again moving in his path and stepping forward, forcing him to retreat a step, which only seemed to infuriate the man further. He tried to peer around Roy to get close to her, but no matter how far he leaned, Roy met his movement.
“I did,” Roy answered with a cutting smile.
His eyes snapped to Roy’s. It was almost comical how red his face got from those two words. Roy’s smile got sharper at the reaction. If there was one thing he’d always been good at, it was knowing how to piss someone else off. “I wasn’t talking to you, asshole!”
At that comment, she refused to let Roy respond and piped up before he could. “Do not call my husband an asshole,” she hissed. Roy’s smile turned genuine and pulled her back into his side before dropped a kiss on the crown of her head.
“What the fuck!?! Marinette, baby. What is going on? You… we were going to get married, have a family! What about our five kids? Baby, I still want them with you.” His voice was velvety smooth, his eyes pleading and contrite.
Roy braced himself for Marinette to fall for it. He wouldn’t blame her, really. If Roy hadn’t seen ploys like it from spies trying to secure information and women trying to lure Dick into a relationship, he might have believed it was authentic as well. But he was praying to whatever deity existed out there that she didn’t fall for it. He didn’t know her well, but even if he hadn’t been able to tell she was creative, funny, kind, and sweet, nobody should end up with a dirtbag like that guy.
But even from their short interaction so far, he knew that she was all those things and more and deserved someone better. She’d clearly known that at some point because she’d dropped his loser ass, but he knew from personal experience how easy it was to fall back into toxic relationships. He squeezed her, hoping to transfer some strength, because if she fell for it, he had no idea how he was going to talk her out of it.
By some miracle, his effort seemed to have an effect. Marinette stiffened in his arms and leaned into him for a second before lashing out at her ex, pushing into his space with all five foot four inches of her ready to fight. “You wanted five kids, and if you still want them, I’d suggest trying for them with Sarah or Sandra, or whatever her name was. I’m afraid I didn’t catch her name before she rushed out of the room to get dressed.”
Roy barely controlled his reaction, somehow managing to keep it to a rough exhale when he wanted to guffaw loud enough for the bouncer outside to hear him. He squeezed her hip again, this time in a show of support and approval of her cheek and hoped she understood the message despite not knowing him well enough to have learned the difference in touches.
“Baby, I love you,” the ex cooed. He reached out for Marinette to graze his fingers along her jaw but Marinette jerked her head back, inadvertently burrowing further into Roy’s chest. The ex’s eyes narrowed at the action, but he quickly covered it with a penitent expression. “It was just a mistake. She was a mistake. She meant nothing to me.”
“She clearly meant more to you than our relationship,” Marinette scoffed. She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, which again brought her further into Roy’s embrace.
His lips thinned and his jaw tightened, but this time he was a few beats slower to mask it before responding. “Baby, I…”
“Cheating on someone as amazing as her?” Roy cut in, drawing the ex’s attention to him instead of Marinette. She wasn’t in this alone and he wasn’t going to let her face his ire alone. “How stupid do you have to be? I’ve been self-destructive before, and I mean self-destructive, but even at rock bottom, I wouldn’t have been that dumb. But I guess there are just some guys that would cheat and some that wouldn’t.”
“You can stay the fuck out of this. You don’t know me!” the ex roared at Roy, completely losing is composure and not even bothering to try to mask his anger and frustration like he had before.
“And I never will,” Roy granted with a slight taunt in his voice.
“And I wish I never did,” Marinette agreed. She sighed heavily and lost the rigidity in her stance, slumping slightly and shifting some of her weight onto Roy, who shouldered it effortlessly. “Leave, Noah. This,” she motioned between them without meeting his eyes which were now wide in mock supplication, “is never happening. We aren’t some star-crossed love story, riddled with misunderstandings and miscommunications. You aren’t the romantic lead. You’re the asshole I leave before my life gets better.”
His eyes instantly went from pleading to hard and hateful. “Gets better,” he spit. “You won’t be able to find better than what I gave you. You were always a bitch I had to put up with. I was only with you out of pity because nobody else would want you, not for more than a cheap fuck. In two months, you’ll be alone again and crawling back because nobody else would ever really want you.”
“Okay, that’s it,” Roy growled. He pushed Marinette behind him and punched Noah in one smooth motion, not giving Noah the chance to anticipate the action. He hit him hard enough to lay him out on the floor with one punch. “Nobody speaks like that to my wife,” he roared over Noah’s prone body.
“Mon dieu! Are you okay?” Marinette exclaimed. She rushed around Roy to survey the damage and Roy felt his heart sink as he saw her panicked expression. He’d not only given her a front row seat to him being violent, an aspect of himself he tried to save for when he was suited up, he’d hit someone who had been important to her. They hadn’t had enough time for him to show her he was more than just some crazy, aggressive neanderthal.
He almost definitely just completely destroyed any chance he had. But regardless, he refused to regret it. That man was the worst kind of filth. The kind that thought they were allowed to treat the people around them like they were disposable. The kind that thought they were inherently better than everyone else while the only evidence of that they could provide was their own bad behavior. The kind that were destined to be miserable and spread that misery to everyone around them.
He almost jumped when he felt delicate hands gently grasp his hand and lift it closer to her face so she could examine it, close enough, he could feel her breath on his skin. She tenderly brushed her fingers along the back of his hand and over his fingers only to turn it over and continue the pattern on the other side as well. Her fingers barely pressed hard enough for him to feel them, but they still electrified his skin, shooting jolts through him and stealing his breath. He managed to tear his gaze from tracing her fingers to meet her eyes.
“You're asking him?” Noah screeched as he attempted to get back up, swaying slightly, still reeling from the punch.
Roy flexed his hand a few times to stretch out the muscles, never removing his hand or gaze from hers. “I’ll be fine,” he assured her. “I know how to throw a punch.”
Marinette dropped her eyes to his hand again, a concerned wrinkle developing the longer she examined it. “Wait just a second!” she exclaimed then turned to the bar.
Roy followed her movements, not noticing the small, sappy smile tugging up the corners of his lips, but he did notice Noah finally managing to raise up to his feet. He managed to tear his eyes from Marinette to fix him with a withering glare threatening enough to make Noah falter almost tripping over a chair behind him, only managing to catch himself at the last minute.
“Ever disrespect my wife like that again and it’ll be a year before you can walk out of the hospital, if you even ever can use your legs again. In fact, I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself if I ever even see you around her at all. So, I would highly recommend you just disappear from her life. Assholes like you are a dime a dozen and that’s after inflation and still overpriced.”
Noah glared back but Roy straightened up even further and flexed his fist. The movement didn’t go unnoticed. He held his ground for just a few seconds before scoffing. “She’s not even worth the time I spent on her anyway.” Roy jerked toward him and Noah scattered like a cat seeing a cucumber.
Marinette returned just as Noah had disappeared into the crowd. She didn’t even seem to notice he was gone, let alone look for him, just focused on Roy’s hand. She ushered him back to his seat and gently lifted his hand onto the bar and delicately set the ice on it not meeting his gaze. “I’m so sorry for that! I didn’t mean for you to get hurt. If I’d known you might be in danger, I never would have…”
“Hey,” he dipped down until he could meet her eyes and smiled, “I’m fine. Thank you for the ice. It was sweet of you to take care of me.” He motioned to the chair she’d been sitting in earlier for her and helped ease her into it. “Are you okay?”
“You're the one that's bloody!” she exclaimed, almost getting back up to drive home her point.
“But you're the one that he was trying to hurt,” he pointed out. He intentionally kept his voice smooth and calm hoping to sooth her nerves, as though his tranquility could be absorbed like osmosis.
She still wouldn’t meet his eyes, instead unnecessarily adjusting the bag of ice to better cover his knuckles. He used the distraction to motion to the bartender for another round of drinks. “Yeah, it happens,” she finally shrugged. “Not the worst I’ve heard.”
“That's a goddamned tragedy,” he hooked a finger under her chin to urge her face up to meet his gaze, “because you're amazing and he’s nothing more than an asshole. And, not to scare you but after hearing that, I kind of wish I’d hit him harder…” he winced thinking about how hard the man had gone down. He wasn’t looking to go to prison. How was he supposed to convince this amazing woman to date him from prison. “…maybe not harder. But a few more times with the same force if it would make you feel safe and erase your frown.”
She scoffed and turned to focus on the glass that just appeared before her, but after a beat glanced up through her lashes and offered a weak smile. “Thanks. But to be honest, his words don’t really hurt anymore.”
He nodded and pushed her drink toward her. “Good. I’d say you’re a hundred times him, but at best he’s worthless, and any number times zero is zero, so that wouldn’t be accurate.”
She snorted and took a drink. She stared at the drink for a second before glancing at him from the side and smirking. “They teach you math like that at spy camp?”
For the first time since Noah had appeared, Roy smiled, a full, toothy, joyous smile. He nodded. “It’s day two. Right after how to punch assholes and use those little cigarette lighter camera things they used to have.”
Her laugh permeated through him straight to his core and warmed his entire body like stoking the hearth. She tipped up her glass to finish off the drink and took a fortifying breath before turning to him. “I think I’m ready to take your number… and give you mine.” Her voice wavered slightly, but there was still a determined chord running through it.
He blinked at her comment, a bit caught off guard, but a slow smile spread across his lips. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. I think I should have my husband’s number after all,” she added shyly.
His smile turned into a full-on grin. “Not to push my luck, but can I have my wife’s name as well?” He’d heard her name from her ex yelling it, but he wanted it to come from her. He wanted her to entrust him with that part of herself. “Or should I just give you mine to take.”
“It’ll get a bit confusing if we both are called Roy,” she observed overly innocently. He rolled his eyes, but his lips stuck in their amused slant. “I better stick with Marinette,” she shrugged. He inhaled like he was going to start speaking but let it out silently instead. She raised an eyebrow at him. “No witty comment? Have I dumbfounded you with my name?”
He shook his head slowly. “I know better than to tell you how beautiful your name is, but I do think it could be better.”
“You don’t like my name?” she asked. The uncertainty in her voice cut directly into Roy’s heart.
“I do,” he granted quickly, before she could ruminate too long in her misperception. He shifted closer, crowding into her space, his knees brushing on either side of hers, his eyes intently focused. “It’s beautiful, just like you, I just think Marinette Harper sounds even more beautiful,” he smirked.
Her heart stuttered at the low, confidence in his voice. She took a breath before returning his smirk and leaning toward him. “And what makes you think I’ll take your name?”
“You won’t tell me your last name, so…” he inhaled dramatically through gritted teeth and shrugged helplessly, “we’re going to have to use mine. No choice.”
“Oh, so tragic,” she commiserated.
“It truly is,” he agreed sadly.
The smile that had spread at his comment eventually eased into a quieter one. She straightened up and held her phone out for him. “I really do have to get going, but I really would like to get your number.” Roy looked from the phone to her a few times before entering the number and standing as he returned it. Marinette glanced down at the phone and smiled. “Sexy Husband?” she asked.
He grinned brilliantly and held his hand out for her. “So you don’t get confused. And for the record, I have no intention of letting my wife go home alone.” When she hesitated, he quickly clarified, “not while your ex might be waiting outside the bar or your place to ambush you. But I will if you want.”
Her smile returned, content and genuine and she took his outstretched hand. “Thank you. I’d like that very much.”
“I don't see what the problem is, you know where she lives now, right?” Jason said, frowning as he checked his jacket again. “So go see her. Anyway, aren't you supposed to be getting ready to meet Jagged? It's so cool of Dinah to hook us up with these tickets.”
“I'm not just showing up and stalking her apartment,” Roy said drily, giving himself a once over in the mirror before shrugging and picking up his favourite cap. “Besides, I'm ready. Dinah's not expecting me to dress up or anything, she knows I don't do that kind of thing.”
Kor'i had offered to babysit Lian that night, so Roy was free to enjoy himself. Maybe he'd even meet someone that would put Marinette out of his head…not that he thought that was likely. It had been a long time since anyone had gotten under his skin quite as much as she had and he wasn't sure he was ready to try and get over that. He wouldn't say no if the opportunity arose, but he wasn't looking for it.
“Look, if you're just gonna mope over her, why don't you just tell her you're not looking for a fling? Seems kind of stupid to me.”
“Can we just not talk about her tonight? We get to meet Jagged Stone at last!” Roy deflected, grabbing his helmet and bike keys and shoving Jason out of the door.
Thankfully, Jason decided he couldn't be bothered to keep teasing him about Marinette so they just got pumped up for the concert. They didn't usually go to Dinah's performances but she didn't usually team up with Jagged Stone. All month she had been talking excitedly about getting her outfit done by Jagged's exclusive designer and had tried to insist that Roy come to the concert because of that.
“Roy! Jason! It's so good to see you,” Dinah said warmly when she spotted them. She was wearing a stunning, strategically ripped black and purple dress. Jason gave her a wolf whistle and she grinned back at him, posing before pulling Roy into a hug. “Come on, Jagged's just finishing up so you can meet him before any other VIPs get here. Just be mindful of his designer, he's really protective of her.”
“You said that she was designing for you as well, did she do this dress?” Roy asked, frowning as a vague sense of recognition tugging at him. There was something about the cut, or the colours, that seemed familiar to him.
“She did! I've never met someone so talented with a needle before, and she's super cute as well! Sassy too, just your type,” she said with a wink, ushering them through to the next room. Jason looked positively starstruck as he spotted Jagged Stone talking animatedly.
“Uncle J, you need to stop moving,” a feminine voice chastened him and Roy froze. He knew that voice, had been obsessing over it for weeks. And sure enough, when Jagged turned around Roy caught a glimpse of Marinette, holding a leather jacket and a needle. “Or at least stop moving me. Do you want the jacket fixed in time for the concert or not?”
“Marinette, darling, I've brought my son and his friend to meet you,” Dinah called out, shoving Roy forward. He could see the polite smile Marinette tried to put on before it froze, and a blush worked its way up her neck instead. “Roy, this is Jagged's very talented designer, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”
“Hey, I, uh, haven't seen you around in a while,” he said, smiling sheepishly. “Lian's been asking when you can come for dinner again.”
“You know each other?” Dinah said, head whipping over to Jason. “And she's met Lian? When did this all happen?”
“Um, oh, Roy and I met…a couple of months ago,” Marinette said, shrugging nonchalantly. The effect was undercut somewhat by the raging blush she still sported. “He knows my friend Tim,” she added when Jagged raised an eyebrow.
“Ma-Ma-Marinette, Fang wants-”
“Luka, mate, did you know about Roy?” Jagged interrupted, making Luka pause and tried to hide a smirk.
“You mean Roy ‘his-biceps-make-me-drool’, from the casino? Marinette might have mentioned him once or twice. Why, did you finally ask Timmy for his number?”
“Luka,” Marinette hissed, hiding her face in her hands. Jagged laughed out loud and nodded his head over to Dinah, Roy and Jason.
“Huh, she didn't mention the trucker cap,” he said mildly, scrutinising him. “Nice to meet you, I'm Luka, Mari’s best friend.”
“So how come I haven't heard about Roy of the amazing biceps?” Jagged asked loudly, clearly enjoying the way Marinette was getting flustered. Roy had to admit, he liked the way she was blushing and stuttering, and the way she had apparently been describing him.
“Because I love Luka more than I love you,” she sniped, refusing to look in Roy's direction. “You know what, I'm going to head into the back room and finish this jacket. Hopefully I'll see none of you later. Except for you, Dinah.”
The moment she was gone, Luka chuckled and picked up a guitar. He strummed it a couple of times and didn't say anything else, leaving an awkward silence to fall over the room. It didn't take long for Jason to break it.
“So she told you about Roy, huh,” he said innocently, giving his friend an amused look.
“She mentioned him, sure. Why, didn't he mention her?”
“Not to me,” Dinah grumbled. “I can't believe you introduced her to Lian before you told me about her.”
“There's not much to tell,” Roy said defensively. “We met a couple of times, she said she wanted to be friends and then Lian met her and invited her for dinner. I think she was actually designing your dress when we ran into her that time.”
“Right, friends,” Jason snorted. Roy glared at him, wondering why he was still friends with him. “Forget that, I came here to meet my favourite rock artist!”
_ _ _
Marinette breathed out a sigh of relief when the concert ended without any further surprises. She was going to give Luka hell later for blabbing all of her secrets as soon as Jagged asked, but for now she was just glad the concert went well.
She packed up her things, her sewing kit tucking into a mini suitcase along with spare fabrics and another outfit, just in case. She planned to get out ahead of the crowd, make her way home and wait for Luka to tell her he was at the hotel safely.
So she was very surprised, and more than a little suspicious, when there was a knock on her door. She forgot how to breathe when she opened it and Roy was leaning against the doorframe. His arms were folded and his biceps bulged slightly, in a way she knew had to be deliberate.
“Hey,” he said in that low, flirty way of his. She hesitated only another moment before she heard people coming down the hall. Deciding she didn't want to have an audience for whatever conversation they were going to have, she pulled him into the room and locked the door.
When she turned back from locking the door, he hadn't moved any further into the room. Instead, she was met by a wall of muscle and had to back into the door to avoid crashing into him.
“Hey, how about a little room to breathe,” she snarked, putting both hands on his chest and pushing. He didn't budge, smile curling his lips. “Listen, about what Luka said-”
“About my drool worthy arms?” He interjected, looming over her and leaning one hand against the door. “You know, for someone who said she didn't want to hook up with a family friend, you're giving me some mixed messages.”
“Maybe I changed my mind,” she said quietly into the vastly decreased space between them. Even as she saw the words register in his face, she surged up and kissed him. He responded instantly, hands wrapping around her waist and pressing her against the door.
She threw away the little voice in her head saying that she was making a mistake, choosing to focus on the feeling of his mouth on hers. She gasped when he broke away lifting her up and wrapping her legs around his waist while he pressed kisses along her jaw and down her neck. Her head fell back against the door and she tried to get her breathing back in control. Which was impossible when his hand smoothed her skirt further up her leg.
“Shit, Mari,” he whispered, biting her collar roughly. She let out a pathetic whimper when he pulled back suddenly. “We should- I shouldn't-”
“Roy, this is a shit ass time to be a gentleman,” she snapped, hands on either side of his face so he had to look at her. “I promise you, I know what I'm doing here. I have no illusions that this is anything more than a bit of fun, okay?”
“What if I want more?” He demanded. Her breath caught in her throat and her heart hammered in her chest. “I don't think you realise how incredible you are. I didn't think it was possible for someone to be the complete package before but you…you're sexy and smart, strong and capable, kind and…god, do you have any idea how hard I fell when you were designing with Lian? I don't know if I can quit you.”
“So…you want to try? Dating, I mean,” she said, searching his eyes for some sign that he meant it. When he nodded she grinned, heart flying. “Great, does that mean you'll stop trying to be a gentleman now?”
