Feb 16, 2018
Mega Love Fest - Quiet Morning
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Mega Love Fest - Quiet Morning
stay (don’t stray)
Megamind/Roxanne
T rating, pre-movie AU
Coming home is a gradual thing.
AO3 | FFN
Roxanne begins by leaving the balcony door open.
It’s a warm spring, and there’s fresh air in the apartment every day, and, one day when she walks downstairs, there’s Megamind, standing in the middle of her living room, with an unnecessary set of lock picks in his hand, looking faintly bewildered.
The rest of the kidnapping proceeds as usual.
Roxanne keeps leaving the balcony door open.
The open door seems to make him nervous. He’s broken in and kidnapped her in every room of her apartment, save the bathroom and her bedroom, but when she starts leaving the door open, he doesn’t seem to want to come any further inside than he has to. He’s hesitant, even, to come and get her when she’s in the kitchen; it takes him a noticeable moment of indecision before he does it, every time.
Roxanne starts spending more time in the living room.
She’s eating dinner on the couch one night when she looks up and sees him. He’s a few paces away, can of knockout spray upraised. His mouth opens, but before he can voice whichever evil laugh or ineffective threat he intends to make, Roxanne smiles at him.
He freezes.
“Hey,” she says, voice calm, “are we in a hurry, or is it okay if I finish eating, first?”
Megamind stares at her, eyes too large.
“—is—I—what?” he manages to say.
“Is the evil plot time-sensitive?” Roxanne asks. She lifts up her bowl of soup, showing it to him. “I’m kind of hungry, but it can wait, if we’re really in a hurry.”
Again, a long moment in which Megamind stares at her.
“N-no,” he says, sounding utterly lost, “it’s not—it’s not time-sensitive…”
“Thanks,” Roxanne says, and goes back to eating her soup.
Megamind stands in the same place, shoulders up and drawn inwards, as if he’s wary of some kind of attack.
“Why don’t you sit down?” Roxanne asks, keeping her tone perfectly ordinary and conversational. “It’s silly for you to have to stand while you wait.”
She pats the couch next to her invitingly, and Megamind’s eyes narrow in extreme suspicion.
Roxanne shrugs.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” she says, and takes another bite of soup.
She takes three more bites before Megamind stalks, with a kind of stiff grace, like an offended cat, to the sofa, and sits on the extreme far edge of it, well out of her reach.
“I,” he declares, “am a supervillain! I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to, Miss Ritchi!”
Roxanne bites her lip against a smile and he glares at her, arms crossed defensively over his chest, his spine very straight.
“Of course,” she murmurs, reaching for her glass of iced tea and taking a sip. “Do you want something to eat, too? I feel guilty eating in front of you like this.”
Megamind tilts his head, expression of suspicion deepening.
“—are you trying to poison me?” he asks.
Roxanne rolls her eyes, puts down her glass, and stands up.
“Here,” she says, handing her bowl to Megamind.
He takes it automatically, then makes a face like he’s bit into a lemon, clearly annoyed with himself.
“You can have that one,” Roxanne says, before he can say anything, “if you’re really that worried about poison.”
She moves around the couch towards the kitchen.
“What are you doing?” Megamind asks, voice rising. “I don’t understand what you’re doing!”
“I’m getting another bowl for me,” she says, perfectly calm. “You can have that glass of tea, too.”
When she brings her new bowl and glass back to the couch, Megamind is on his feet once more, the knockout spray in one hand again, de-gun in the other, now.
“Are you playing for time; is that what you’re doing?” he asks, words rapped out fast and angry, “Is he coming over? Are you waiting for someone to show up?”
Roxanne sighs and sets the bowl and glass down on the coffee table.
“No,” she says. “We can go now, if you’re really bothered, Megamind.”
Megamind growls under his breath.
“You’re bluffing,” he says.
“I’m not,” Roxanne says, and walks to him. “It’s okay,” she says, when he doesn’t move to spray her. “We can go, now, Megamind.”
He growls again, angrier and more inhuman this time.
“Stop. That.” he says.
“Stop what?” Roxanne asks.
He sprays her.
“She kept being nice at me, Minion!” Megamind gestures wildly. “She was—was—she was menacing me with kindness!”
Minion continues to fold the laundry.
“It doesn’t sound menacing to me, Sir,” he says. “Miss Ritchi has always been polite to me when I come get her.”
“Of course she’s polite to you! She likes you! What are you not getting about this?!”
Minion makes a wordless noise that manages to be sympathetic, soothing, and skeptical all at once.
“You’re trying to intimidate me,” Megamind says, three days later, glaring down at Roxanne as she eats a doughnut in her bathrobe. “I’m not intimidated!”
“You,” Roxanne says, gesturing with the half-eaten doughnut, “have an unnecessarily suspicious mind, you know that?”
He sits down suddenly on the far end of the couch.
“I’m not intimidated!” he repeats defiantly.
“Okay,” Roxanne says, and pushes the box of doughnuts over towards him. “You want a doughnut?”
“No!”
Roxanne laughs and licks powdered sugar from her fingers.
“Right,” she says. “Well, you can have this coffee, at least. I’ll go get another cup.”
She sets the cup down in front of him and goes back to the kitchen. When she returns, the first cup is still on the coffee table in front of him. Megamind is glaring down at it as if it has personally insulted him in some way.
Roxanne sits down again and he looks up at her.
“I don’t want it!” he says defensively.
“All right,” Roxanne says, shrugging.
Megamind gives her a look that clearly indicates he’d like to smother her to death with a decorative throw pillow. He picks up the cup.
“I’m not intimidated,” he mutters, and takes a sip of coffee.
Which he immediately and violently spits back out into the cup.
Roxanne, in the middle of taking a sip from her own cup, nearly chokes on coffee and shocked laughter.
“That is disgusting!” Megamind says, as she coughs.
His ears and cheekbones are absolutely burning pink as he sets the cup down sharply and shoves it away.
“S-sorry?” Roxanne says, trying not to laugh, and not really succeeding, “I mean—it’s just coffee; what’s wrong with it?”
“There isn’t any cream! There isn’t even any sugar! You cannot possibly drink coffee like that!”
“—I mean, sometimes I do,” Roxanne says. “If I’m already eating something sweet—”
“Stop it!” Megamind jerks to his feet as if some kind of line that’s been holding him in place has snapped. “Stop; just stop!”
“…stop drinking my coffee black?”
“Stop talking to me like—stop being—”
He takes a sharp breath through his nose, lets it out slowly, his teeth gritted.
Roxanne takes a bite of her second doughnut and waits for him to say something.
He doesn’t, though, just continues to glare at her. Roxanne finishes the doughnut.
“Okay,” she says, standing up from the couch, “I just have to get dressed, and then I’ll be ready to go.”
Megamind makes a discordant noise of frustration in the back of his throat.
Roxanne pats him on the arm as she passes and he actually flinches back from her as if she’s struck him, his breath hissing through his teeth.
Back in his cell later that night, Megamind paces restlessly, rubbing his arm where she touched him.
There had been powdered sugar on her fingers; some of it had ended up on his shirt.
He hadn’t been able to make himself brush the marks of her fingers from his arm, and had been forced to pretend, throughout the entire kidnapping, that he hadn’t noticed them there.
The next time Megamind shows up at her apartment at breakfast time, Roxanne has made sure the coffee pot is already on the table, along with sugar, creamer, and an extra cup.
He watches warily as she adds sugar and cream to her cup, as she takes a sip, as she places the cup down on the coffee table within his reach. She pours herself another cup, drinks, takes a bite of toast.
Megamind snatches his cup up quickly, as if he’s afraid she’s going to slap his hand away, and then he cradles it in both hands, close to his chest.
Suspicious green eyes watch her over the rim of it as she takes another bite of toast.
For several minutes he just holds the cup as she continues to eat, and then finally, with quick, tense movements, he adds more cream and sugar to it.
Roxanne raises her eyebrows as the sixth spoonful of sugar goes into the cup.
“What?” Megamind snaps defensively, seeing her expression.
“You like your coffee really sweet, huh?” Roxanne says.
He glares at her like he suspects some kind of hidden mockery in the words.
“Just coffee?” Roxanne asks. “Or do you like sweet stuff in general?”
“Why?” Megamind asks, eyes narrow.
“I was just curious,” Roxanne says gently.
He gives her that flat glare again, and Roxanne assumes he’s not going to answer.
“Yes,” he says.
Roxanne blinks in surprise.
“Yes, I like sweet things,” he says, still sounding as if he suspects a trick.
Roxanne makes a humming noise of interest.
“Do you?” Megamind says, asking the question like he’s throwing down a gauntlet, like he’s not expecting her to answer.
“Oh! Yeah, but not as much as you,” Roxanne says, unable to keep from smiling at him, “if your tastes in coffee are anything to go by. I like raspberry.”
“Are you trying to delay things so that we don’t get to the evil plot?” Megamind asks, watching Roxanne narrowly as he tears a dinner roll into tiny pieces.
She blinks at him, an expression of what appears to be honest surprise on her face.
“No,” she says.
“It’s taken me fifteen additional minutes each time to kidnap you on average, over the last month,” Megamind says, not looking away from her face, watching for any shift in her expression that will tell him she’s lying. “And the time spent at your apartment pre-kidnapping shows a gradual increase over the month, when charted out.”
She blinks again.
“I mean, you can just come by earlier,” she says, “if you’re worried we’re cutting in too much on the evil plots.”
Megamind doesn’t say anything to that, but his suspicions are instantly aroused. A trap? Ready to spring when he arrives early at the next kidnapping?
He shows up to her apartment hours early, the next time, while she’s still at work, and after a brainbot patrol has reported Metro Man is at his own home.
Megamind will already be here in Roxanne's apartment, lying in wait, when they come to set their trap; they won’t catch him off guard!
Nobody shows up until Miss Ritchi comes into the apartment after work.
She shuts her apartment door, and her keys jangle as she puts them back in her purse. She turns.
“Oh, hey,” she says, looking surprised. “You’re ho—here.”
Her face flushes as she stumble on the last word—chagrin at the realization that he’s seen through her plan? He stands up with a menacing flourish.
“Your attempt at entrapment has failed, Miss Ritchi! As you can see, I am already here!”
Her lips quiver and she throws him a glance that, if he didn’t know better, he might read as amused affection. She tosses her purse down on the kitchen counter.
“Mm,” she says, making a sound not unlike the one Minion makes when he’s trying to be soothing but express skepticism all the same. “‘Kay. You want anything special for dinner, sweet—ah—I—I was—thinking chinese. Um—sweet—sweet and sour chicken sounds good…”
Megamind chews his lip as he watches her take off her shoes.
She seems—slightly flustered, but not nearly as distressed at his foiling her scheme to trap him as he would have expected. Maybe that’s not the actual scheme. Maybe it’s something else; maybe the implication of a trap set early was a clever ruse—
“Only if we can order from the place with the good fortune cookies,” he says. “And I make the phone call! I won’t have you sneakily phoning for Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes!”
“The menu’s in the drawer,” Roxanne says.
“He’s never here.”
Roxanne looks over at him, a puzzled line between her brows.
“Who?” she asks.
Megamind grits his teeth.
Roxanne starts leaving food out on the counter.
It’s sweet things, always—cookies, doughnuts, danishes.
Megamind suspects poison again, but Roxanne eats the things herself, in front of him. Maybe she has the location of the poisoned treats versus the non-poisoned ones on the plate memorized? He could switch them around to test that theory, but he’s not going to risk her having dosed them with something that could prove dangerous to her.
He takes one home, instead, a chocolate chip cookie, and subjects it to the most rigorous scientific testing possible.
It’s just a cookie.
“You’re not dating him.”
“Wh—oh,” Roxanne says, taking a bite of pizza. “No, I’m not.”
“You broke up with him.”
Roxanne gives a little snort of laughter that has no right to be as endearing as he finds it. He bites the inside of his cheek.
“No,” she says.
“He broke up with you?” Megamind bursts out, unable to keep the incredulous edge from his voice.
She gives another snort of laughter.
“No,” she says again.
She has sugar cookies out, the next time he goes to kidnap her, and since he’s feeling reckless and frustrated, he eats one.
Roxanne absolutely beams at him when he does, which makes him assume it really is poisoned, but he doesn’t have any sort of strange reaction at all, and none of this makes any sense whatsoever.
She was never dating Metro Man?
Never?
The entire world has ceased to make sense.
Unless she’s lying.
No, she’s not lying; Metro Man really isn’t ever there, and he would never have the attention span for any sort of long term plan like the one Roxanne’s playing out, here, anyway.
Whatever plan it is she’s playing out, here.
It’s summer, by now, the air turning hot and sticky, and the first night Megamind lands on her balcony and finds the door closed, his stomach drops in a horrible and utterly inexplicable way.
It isn’t—she was only doing it to—to unsettle him; he should be relieved she’s given up on—
He sees the sign taped to the doorframe.
It’s unlocked, Megamind.
—R
He stands there looking at it for a long time before finally opening the door and slipping inside.
If her plan is to unsettle him, it is definitely working, Megamind is forced to admit.
The more time he spends with her, in her apartment, the more unsettled he feels. He should just stop going there at all, he knows that, knows he should stick to picking her up from her office or the street, should stick to sending Minion to her apartment, but he can’t, god, he can’t.
“Why are you doing this?” Megamind asks, voice high and distressed.
Roxanne’s lips twist.
“If I’d known being nice to you was all it took to get you this riled up,” she says, putting down her fork, “I would have done it a lot sooner.”
“You admit, then,” he says, voice wavering, and he should be glad that he’s finally tricked her into confirming his suspicions, but he feels, instead, as if he’s going to fly into a million sharp edged pieces at any moment, “you admit that you’re doing it to upset me—”
“No,” Roxanne says.
She reaches out and wraps her fingers around his wrist and squeezes. Megamind stops breathing, goes utterly still beneath her hand.
“No,” she says, “I would have been, before, but I’m not, now.”
Megamind makes a low, unhappy noise of confusion and frustration and she lets go of his wrist.
“I’m not—” she says, voice soft, and for a moment she looks almost sad, “—I’m not very good at this being nice thing, am I?”
Megamind has no idea how to answer that. Roxanne sighs and pats his arm (again he goes startle-still) and then she gathers up the dishes and takes them to the sink.
He can’t stay away from her.
He never could stay away from her, and now it’s so much worse, the torment only increasing every time she lets him just a little bit closer.
She lets him sit on the couch with her and finish the movie she’s watching.
She props her feet up in his lap.
She lets him ask what book it is she’s reading.
She flips to the beginning of the book and reads the first chapter out loud to him, reads all the rest of the chapters out loud to him, a new chapter each kidnapping like she’s playing at being Scheherazade, and every time he has to stand up and spray her and go through with the evil plot, it just gets harder to do.
Pretending that’s all he wants.
Pretending he’s ever really wanted that.
Pretending he doesn’t want—
And yet he has to keep coming up with evil plot after evil plot, because how else is he supposed to keep seeing her? What other excuse could he have for coming to her?
There isn’t one. There isn’t any excuse for his presence.
There isn’t any excuse for him.
“These are for you,” Megamind says abruptly, and sets the box of chocolates on Roxanne’s coffee table.
Roxanne’s lips part, her eyes going wide, color flying to her cheeks, and Megamind thinks wildly that he would very much like to throw himself headfirst from the balcony right now.
“They’re raspberry,” he says in despair as she lifts the lid.
She reaches for one of the chocolates, her lips forming an O of anticipatory pleasure—they’re extremely good quality chocolates, the best he could find, and—
“The third one has sleeping serum in it,” Megamind blurts out, like the utter, hopeless, pathetic idiot he is.
Roxanne pauses with her hand hovering over the chocolates. She looks up at him.
And she—
—smiles.
“I guess I’ll have to eat that one last, then,” she says, and picks up a chocolate.
She bites into it without any hesitation, as if Megamind hasn’t already admitted to drugging one of the chocolates, as if he’s—
She picks up a second chocolate and offers it to him wordlessly. Megamind swallows and shakes his head as he sits down on the edge of the couch. Roxanne makes a noise that clearly indicates she would actually rather have the entire box to herself anyway.
And—god—Megamind would much, much rather watch her enjoying them.
Roxanne is—she’s so—
The little humming noises of satisfaction she makes, and the way she licks her fingers, and the small smear of chocolate on her bottom lip, and—
(later, lying alone in bed with his stomach twisting with guilt and his hand between his legs, Megamind will bite his lip against a moan and come apart to the memory of her like this)
Finally, the box is empty, except for the third chocolate, the one he dosed and then warned her about.
She reaches for it.
“You don’t have to.”
Roxanne looks up at him, her hand poised over the box.
Her surprised eyes meet his and Megamind jerks to his feet, almost stumbling in his sudden haste to not be here, to not be doing this, to not be—
“You don’t have to,” he says again, “you don’t—have to—I’ll—I’ll go; I can go; I’ll just go—”
“You don’t have to,” Roxanne says, her eyes wide and her hand hovering, and Megamind makes a choked, panicked, alien noise in the back of his throat and flees.
He throws himself viciously into the construction of the next doomsday device, and the next, and the next.
Megamind manages to send Minion for her the next three kidnappings in a row, and he doesn’t go to her apartment when she’s there, and he doesn’t go to her apartment when she’s not there, and he doesn’t sleep.
This last fact is not an important one, no matter what Minion might say, or the brainbots might hint.
Wanting to be with her is actually physically painful, the way that starvation is painful, that same kind of screaming, desperate emptiness, a hunger in his skin and his chest and his bones and his mind.
It’s autumn now, the air cool and crisp. The balcony door is open. Megamind slips inside.
He’s just going to stay for a moment, just a moment; he’ll be long gone by the time she gets home from work; she’ll never even know he was here. He’s just—
He’s crying, suddenly, too tired to stop himself, too tired to do it quietly. Too tired to do anything but collapse on Roxanne’s couch and curl up into a ball and cry and cry and cry.
Misery and exhaustion bleed together in his mind.
He’s still crying when he falls asleep.
Her apartment is dark when Roxanne finally makes it home. She switches on the light and locks the door behind herself. As she’s putting her purse down on the counter, she hears a soft noise from the living room.
She glances over and sees—Megamind, sitting up from where he’s been lying on her couch. He looks around, blinking, his eyes unfocused and his expression faintly bewildered.
Sleeping, Roxanne realizes, he was sleeping on her couch.
“Hey,” she says softly, moving towards him.
He looks up at her, the back of the couch between them, and Roxanne reaches out without thinking and touches his head, strokes her palm over the curve of it.
“I didn’t mean to wake you, sweetheart,” she says.
And.
And there’s a—a frozen kind of moment in which Roxanne realizes what she’s said and what she’s doing and she sees Megamind realize what she’s said and what she’s doing and then—
She sees something break in his eyes, and then he turns his head and presses his lips to her palm.
“—oh,” Roxanne says, a breathless, almost silent sound.
“Why,” he says, his voice cracking in the middle, “why would you call me—why are you being—Roxanne—I can’t—please—please stop—it hurts too—”
“I’m sorry,” Roxanne says, catching the other side of his face with her other hand. “I’m sorry, sweetheart; I’m sorry; I never wanted to hurt you, Megamind; I’m so sorry—”
He looks at her again, green eyes wide and tearful, and Roxanne presses a kiss to his forehead—then to his cheekbone, his temple, his jaw—
Megamind makes a soft, broken noise and turns his head, catching her mouth with his.
Roxanne gasps in surprise and he starts to pull back, but she dips her head and kisses him again and he melts into her.
He almost sobs into her mouth when she rubs her thumbs over his cheekbones, and when she hums soothingly against his lips, he moans and reaches up to grab her shoulders, arching up into her like he’s afraid she’s going to push him away at any moment.
Roxanne slides one of her hands to the back of his head and the other to the back of his neck, holds him in place as she kisses him.
(possession and reassurance in the pressure of her hands and the pressure of her lips)
He’s trembling when she finally eases out of the kiss. She brushes her lips over his one last time and leans away to look at his face. His eyes meet hers for only a moment, and then he flinches, squeezing his eyes shut again.
“—please,” he whispers, “please don’t make me leave, Roxanne.”
Roxanne gives a soft laugh, feeling tears rise to her eyes.
“Megamind,” she says, “sweetheart—I’ve been trying this whole time to convince you to stay.”
He opens his eyes and looks at her, his lips slightly parted, his eyes wide and green and astonished. Roxanne smiles at him a little tremulously, and then bends down to kiss him again.
“Roxanne—why—why didn’t you just tell me?”
It’s several weeks later; Megamind is sitting half curled up on her couch in his pajamas, watching her over the top of his cup of ridiculously over-sweet coffee.
Roxanne gives him a questioning look as she takes a sip of coffee.
“Why didn’t you just tell me—what you were doing?” he asks. “With being nice to me. Why didn’t you just tell me?”
Roxanne puts her cup of coffee down.
“I didn’t think you’d believe me,” she says. “I was afraid of scaring you off.”
Megamind frowns and Roxanne smiles at him with gentle, wry affection.
“Sweetheart,” she says, “you didn’t even believe I meant it when I smiled at you. Megamind, honestly, if I had told you that I loved you, then, would you have believed me?”
Megamind makes a face.
“—probably not,” he admits, putting down his own cup of coffee.
Roxanne laughs and shakes her head. Megamind wrinkles his nose at her and shifts to lie down with his head in her lap.
“You know I’m right,” she tells him.
He makes a complaining, not-quite-human noise but doesn’t argue. Roxanne drapes her arm over the curve of his head and closes her eyes, smiling.
“—do you?” Megamind asks.
“Hmm?” Roxanne opens her eyes and looks down at him. “Do I what?”
He curls his arm a little tighter around one of her knees.
“—do you love me?” he asks, voice soft and vulnerable.
Roxanne smiles down at him, her heart very full of happiness.
“Yes,” she says. “Yes, I do.”
Megamind makes a soft noise of contentment and settles his head more comfortably in her lap.
...the end.
notes:
Day sixteen of my Birthday Fic Month! And day five of the Megamind Valentine’s Day event. Prompt used was home is you.
The working title of this one was ‘the feral cat story’. The actual title is from the lyrics of the song Sway.
Mega love fest-day 8-alternate universe
again inspired by @setepenre-set‘s My Love Has Wings
It’s here! The announcement! Megamind Love Fest is going take place February 12th - 18th, with one bonus day on March 3rd!
The prompts are as follows:
Feb. 12th: Non-sexual Intimacy/ Living Together
Feb. 13th: Cultural Differences/ Cooking Disasters
Feb. 14th: Awkward Situations/ Under the Stars
Feb. 15th: We’re NOT Dating/ Strange Magic
Feb. 16th: Quiet Morning/ Home Is You
Feb. 17th: Villains AU/ Fake Dating
Feb. 18th: Blind Date/ Alternate Universe
Bonus Day:
March 3rd - Duty Calls on Date Night!
Rules:
Tag your work: megamindlovefest or mmlf
NSFW fan-creations (fanfics/art etc.) should be under read more (for arts put a preview and main artwork under the read more), plus an NSFW tag.
All sorts of artworks are allowed! (gif sets, amvs, art, fics, aesthetic boards etc.)
All ships allowed
No stolen work
No ship hate!
Please post your work ON the day of the prompt or after, not before.
Be kind to each other.
Have fun!
I can’t wait to see what everyone is going to come up with :D If you have any questions - ask.
Mod. De
❤️Duty Calls On Date Night!
Stupid Cupid 💘 (part 2)
megamind/roxanne, K+ rating
Megamind’s Valentine’s Day evil plot goes a little awry.
AO3 | FFN | part 1
Roxanne is sitting on her couch and flipping through her collection of takeout menus, trying to decide what to order for dinner, when the doorbell rings.
She makes a face at the sound—you’d think the kids selling school fundraiser stuff could at least give it a break on Valentine’s Day—and doesn’t get up from the sofa. Maybe she’s coldhearted, but she’s bought enough overpriced, badly made candy for a lifetime, and there’s really something just—prohibitively pathetic about the thought of buying more for herself today of all days.
The bell rings again.
Roxanne’s eyebrows go up in mild surprise.
The echo of the doorbell’s ending chime is followed by an urgent sounding knock.
Roxanne sighs, tosses the menus on the coffee table, and gets up. There’s just a chance that it’s someone wanting something more important than to sell her a box of cheap-tasting chocolate covered cherries.
Maybe it’s—oh, no; perhaps it’s one of the Blumenthals, here to ask her to come over for ‘a nice chat and some tea, dear’ again; they’re always doing that after one of her kidnappings. The two old ladies mean well, but their investment in Roxanne’s nonexistent love life is really quite embarrassing, and today of all days, she really does not want to face it; she’d actually prefer a kid selling cheap chocolates—
The doorbell rings a third time as she’s walking to the door.
“Okay, okay!” Roxanne says, hurrying the last few steps in spite of herself.
She unlatches the door, opens it, and—
—stares.
Megamind is standing in front of her apartment door, which is extremely weird for a wide variety of reasons, ranging from the fact that he’s never done multiple kidnappings on a single day to the question of why he would ring her doorbell for a kidnapping to the way that he’s just standing there and not, you know, kidnapping her—
Not to mention the way he’s dressed, which is—
“Miss Ritchi,” Megamind says.
Roxanne attempts to say—actually, she’s not really sure what she’s attempting to say, but whatever it is, it comes out as—
“—hhaa—?”
—which is very much extremely not what she’s attempting to say and also sounds kind of like a dying sheep and—
Megamind’s wearing normal clothes; a white button-up shirt and dark slacks and a light pink tie; an actual tie, and it’s pink; how is this happening; the top button of the shirt is undone, the hollow of his throat showing, the blue of his skin a vivid contrast to the white and the pink and—
“Did you mean it?” Megamind blurts.
Roxanne drags her eyes away from the hollow of his throat and looks at his face.
“The implication—” he says, “—earlier—when you asked if I would have thrown you out for the candle—”
Roxanne blinks, hard, the words making about as much sense as the image of Megamind standing outside her door in a pink tie. She shakes her head slightly, trying to clear it.
“What?” she says.
Megamind’s expression does something rapid and rather awful, the strange, desperate hope in his face vanishing in an instant with a bitter twist of his mouth and a shuttering of his eyes. Roxanne’s heart plummets sickeningly at the sudden transformation, even though she has no idea why—
“Megamind,” Roxanne says, desperate to make him stop looking like that, “Megamind; I have no idea what you’re talking about—”
This appears to have been exactly the worst possible thing to say; Megamind’s expression goes several degrees more terrible, something like disgust or contempt flashing in his face, followed by despair, and then he gives a queer, bitter little laugh and turns away as if to go.
“—never mind—shouldn’t have even—of course—”
“—wait!” Roxanne lets go of the doorframe to catch at his arm, her voice rising on a note of distressed incomprehension, “—stop! Would you just—I don’t know what—”
“Of course you don’t!” Megamind says, voice rising, too. “Of course you don’t; never mind; it doesn’t matter—”
“Roxanne, dear,” a quavery old voice says, “is everything all right?”
Megamind and Roxanne both freeze.
“—it’s fine, Mrs. Blumenthal!” Roxanne says, in a loud, bright voice. “Everything is—”
The door across the hall opens and a gray head pokes out. Roxanne closes her eyes, internally groaning.
“Oh! You have company!” Vera Blumenthal gasps, clearly delighted, as she catches sight of Megamind. “Emily! Emily, come quick! Come see who’s come to visit little Roxanne!”
At the sound of Mrs. Blumenthal’s upraised voice, several more doors along the hallway open, the occupants of the apartments peering out.
“Oooh!”
“Well would you look at—”
“Oh!”
“Oh my god, Bob; come look!”
“You see, Emily?” Vera Blumenthal says happily to the other old lady who leans out the door beside her. “There, now, Roxanne, dear—”
“Nnnn!” Roxanne says, and lets go of Megamind to gesture frantically at Mrs. Blumenthal behind Megamind’s back. “Nnnn!”
Vera Blumenthal ignores her completely.
“—didn’t I tell you it’d turn out all right?” Vera Blumenthal continues, ignoring Roxanne’s wild shushing motions. “‘He’ll come to his senses eventually’ I said ‘don’t you fret so’. And you see how right I was? You see how right I was, Emily? I always know!”
“Yes, Vera,” Emily Blumenthal says, looking at her wife with an indulgent eye and patting her hand. “You always know.”
“And doesn’t he clean up nice!” Anita Kowalski says, from farther down the hall, leaning out her own door.
“Tie’s a bit weird,” Bob Kowalski offers.
His wife swats him with the dish towel she’s holding.
“They’re all wearing ties like that these days, Bob,” she says, “you’re just old! Don’t you pay any attention to him, Roxanne, he’s just as pleased for you as any of us.”
Megamind turns his head and looks at Roxanne with round eyes.
Roxanne makes a choking sound, her face going crimson.
Oh god. Oh god why is this happening to her.
“—poor dear, she was just pining, but I told her the last time she came over for tea, I said—”
“No!” Roxanne says, recovering her voice at last, “No no no! No! There was no pining! No pining! No fretting! I told you before, I am not—I have no idea what you’re talking about! And—and Megamind just came here to ask me—”
She stops and gestures quickly at Megamind, to continue the sentence—
“—out?” Megamind says faintly.
“Out!” Roxanne repeats, nodding madly, and then, as the word actually registers. “Wa—out!? What?!”
“I—would you?” he asks. “Like—to go out with me?”
Their watching crowd makes an appreciative, approving sound, but Roxanne isn’t really paying attention to them anymore, is staring at Megamind, who is staring back at her. She reaches out a hand to steady herself on the doorframe.
“On a date?” she says, voice faint.
“A—yes.”
“An actual—non-alligator-and-deathtrap type date?”
Megamind gives a choked little laugh, and Roxanne feels the edges of her own lips starting to twitch in the beginnings of an answering smile.
“Yes,” he says, “yes, the—the non-alligator-and-deathtrap type of date. Would you like to, Roxanne?”
Roxanne’s smile is no longer able to be contained.
“Yes,” she says. “Yes, I would.”
Megamind’s smile spreads over his face, too, and—
The apartment hallway bursts into applause. Roxanne and Megamind both jump in surprise, turning to look at their audience.
“You see; it’s just like I said!” Vera Blumenthal says, beaming. “Didn’t I say he’d ask you eventually, dear?”
Roxanne’s face goes hot again; when she looks over at Megamind, he’s blushing, too, his cheekbones and the edges of his ears pink, almost the color of the tie he’s wearing. As their eyes meet, both of their mouths twitch in mingled embarrassment and amusement.
“Right!” Roxanne says, grabbing his wrist. “Well! Anyway! Megamind and I are just going to go talk now in private, yes okay thanks goodbye!”
“—just like I said! I said everything will—”
Roxanne drags the now laughing Megamind into her apartment and closes the door firmly behind them.
...the end. 💘
Happy Valentine’s Day!
💄Lipstick (chapter 5)
Megamind/Roxanne, M rating, pre-movie AU
Roxanne slips away from the mayor’s birthday gala to search for a piece of evidence that will break the story of governmental corruption in Metro City wide open. Unbeknownst to Roxanne, however, Megamind is at the party, too. And the city’s supervillain wants the same thing as the city’s nosiest reporter…
AO3 | FFN
chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4
For a solid minute and a half, neither of them moved—Roxanne because she wanted to be sure that the other people had really gone, and Megamind, presumably, for the same reason.
Roxanne was terribly conscious of how close he was, of the rise and fall of his chest, of his breathing. She had one arm around his waist, and the other was twisted in the lapel of the jacket he was wearing; she could feel his body shift beneath her hands as he breathed, and for some reason the sensation of that was very nearly overwhelming.
The two of them were pressed very close, but Megamind was supporting almost all of his own weight on his knees and his forearms, braced against the side of the desk.
He stared down at her, his eyes wide—probably still shocked that she’d bitten him. Roxanne was a little shocked herself actually; it hadn’t been a conscious choice, but when he’d pressed his lips against her ear and then whispered, the—the—the shock of it; yes, the shock of the sensation—
(his lips on her skin, his voice in her ear)
—had sent something hot and sudden through her whole body, like lightning, and she’d just—reacted without thinking.
…she was really zero for three on the impulse control tonight—the bite, the staying too long in this office, the pulling Megamind under the desk with her—
Her stupid mind had still been in panicHIDE mode, and for some reason it had decided Megamind belonged in the category of ‘things to hide’ rather than ‘things to hide from’, and then once he was under the desk with her, she couldn’t very well let him come out again in front of people; there would have been inconvenient questions like ‘what were you doing under a desk with Megamind, Roxanne?’ and—
Beneath the desk, Roxanne managed to collect the shreds of her dignity enough to unwind her hand from Megamind’s lapel to give him a light push with her fingertips—surely, surely they’d waited long enough—
Megamind pushed himself up and off of her and out from under the desk with a fluid grace that instantly made her feel twice as heavy and awkward. She clambered up after him.
“You—you bit me!” he hissed in a low voice, pointing an accusing finger at her.
“You deserved it!”
“Wh—I did not! You—”
“Not up to even your usual standards tonight, I see,” Roxanne said, changing tactics. “Trying to kidnap me with a knife, Megamind, really?”
Megamind’s eyes flickered to the knife in his hand, as if he’d forgotten he was holding it, then he drew himself up and tried to look down his nose at her—tried without success, she noted with satisfaction. She was two inches taller than him in these heels.
Then he smiled at her, sharp and sudden and wicked, which was—
—rather more successful, Roxanne was forced to admit.
“So eager to be kidnapped, Miss Ritchi?” he said. “I’m flattered! But I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint—I’m not actually here for you. I had no idea you were even up here.”
Roxanne felt herself flush, anger and embarrassment together.
“Oh,” she said, “so you just happened to jump over that desk and pull a knife on me?”
“Well, I could tell someone was under the desk,” Megamind said, looking maddeningly pleased at having disconcerted her so thoroughly. “I assumed it was a trap.”
“So you decided to attack them with a knife?” Roxanne said, arching an eyebrow. “Are the ray guns all zapped out or something?”
“Well, I couldn’t very well have the de-gun on me when they searched me,” Megamind said. “They never would have let me in.”
“But they let you in with that?” Roxanne asked skeptically, gesturing at the knife.
Megamind grinned at her.
“Butterfly knife—” he said.
With a quick, fluid motion of his hand, the handle of the knife separated into two pieces on either side of the blade, furling and unfurling like a fan as he made the knife twirl over and through his fingers. The thing closed with a snap, the blade folded down, hidden between the two halves of the handle.
“—not actually illegal,” he concluded, and slipped it into his pocket.
(that ridiculous, shivery, electric feeling, not just down her spine this time, but curling in the pit of her stomach, too, and—)
“Wait, what do you mean, let you in?” Roxanne said, as his earlier words finally registered.
An expression of consternation crossed Megamind’s face—clearly, he hadn’t meant to tell her that. She looked him up and down—he was in a formal suit, with a tie and everything, dressed like—
“Did you get in here as a guest somehow?”
“That’s—that’s none of your business!” Megamind said. “And! And what are you doing up here, Miss Ritchi; that’s what I’d like to know!”
“That’s none of your business,” Roxanne repeated his words mockingly.
He glared at her, and Roxanne laughed at him.
“I got bored of the party,” she said.
Megamind’s eyes narrowed.
“—I don’t believe you. Why would you hide under the desk?”
“I didn’t want to talk to anyone,” Roxanne said, letting her voice take on an edge of malice. “It’s been a rather trying week.”
Color flew to Megamind’s cheeks—oh, Roxanne thought with vicious satisfaction, so he hadn’t just completely forgotten about that tabloid article!
The first time seeing her after its publication, and he hadn’t even mentioned the damn thing, like it was unworthy of his notice—
(like she was unworthy of his notice)
“Miss—”
“How did you get in?” Roxanne asked. She narrowed her eyes. “It had to be a disguise; if you’d been using hypnosis or something, you wouldn’t have needed to leave the gun or wear those clothes—a hologram? Where’s the projector; are you wearing it?”
Megamind took a sharp, hissing kind of breath, like he’d touched a flame unexpectedly.
“You made a wearable, full-body holographic projection,” Roxanne said, “and you didn’t bother to include clothes, or the ability to conceal a weapon?”
“It’s just a prototype!” Megamind snapped.
Roxanne smiled in satisfaction.
“So it is a hologram,” she said.
Megamind growled beneath his breath.
“You must have needed to come here for something pretty important,” Roxanne went on, “if you decided to use the hologram before you’d finished it.”
Megamind didn’t answer, just glared at her. Roxanne grinned and perched on the edge of the desk.
“So what is it?” she said. “Why are you here?”
Megamind’s expression suddenly cleared, and then a slow, dangerous smile spread over his face.
“I’m here to steal something,” he said. He pulled the desk drawer open sharply. “Care to be an accessory to the crime, Miss Ritchi?”
Roxanne opened her eyes very wide and gave him her best innocent damsel expression.
“Oh, officer, he had a knife! There was nothing I could do!”
Megamind gave her a look that was half frustrated annoyance and half unwilling amusement.
“And yet you’ll never do that for me,” he said.
Roxanne snorted.
(steal something—the desk drawer—did he know about the file? was that what he—)
“I’m not scared of you,” Roxanne said. “And you’d never fall for it. What would be the point?”
Megamind, looking through the contents of the desk drawer, threw her a sharp, irritated glance.
“Well, for one thing,” he snapped, “people would be less likely to write tabloid articles speculating about the nature of our relationship. If you’d just—”
“—oh, no; no; no!” Roxanne said. “You do not get to blame this on me! You’re the one doing the kidnapping! That is entirely—”
“—if you’d just act like a real damsel—“
“Oh, as if you act like a real supervillain!” Roxanne said, stung in spite of herself.
“I am a real supervillain!” Megamind said. He shoved the desk drawer closed. “Alligators, deathtraps, giant robots; I don’t know what else you want from me, Miss Ritchi!”
(the electric feeling running down her spine, the heat blooming in the pit of her stomach)
(—she wanted—)
“—nothing,” Roxanne snapped. “I don’t want anything from you.”
Megamind went still for half a moment, then his lips curled into a cold smile.
“Of course,” he said.
He turned away and moved towards one of the pictures on the wall, ran his fingertips along the edge of the frame.
Roxanne glared at his back and told herself that she was not upset, damn it. She wasn’t.
Not a real damsel.
(maybe if she’d been a real damsel, he might have—)
She wasn’t upset.
“Well, you won’t have any more problems with people insinuating things about you and me, anyway!” she said, throwing the words at him. “After that interview with Wayne, you clearly know you don’t have any reason to kidnap me ever again!”
Megamind went still again, and for a moment, she thought he might turn and say something—something—
“—of course” he said in a stiff voice, without turning. “I’m sure you’re terribly relieved.”
Roxanne furiously repressed the urge to throw her shoe at the back of his giant blue head. How dare he not even look at her; how dare he just—dismiss her like that, like she no longer mattered at all—
“Yes!” she said defiantly. “And I’m sure you’re relieved to know that you can find yourself some vapid little damsel to scream for you instead!”
“You’ll be able to return to your boring normal life,” Megamind said flatly, and moved to the other picture frame, still without turning. “How wonderful for you.”
“I am not boring!”
Megamind neither turned nor answered.
Anger and humiliation warred in Roxanne’s chest; she gripped her beaded handbag tightly.
Boring.
She wasn’t—
That damned tabloid article about her and Megamind had come out at the beginning of the week, that photograph on the front of the magazine: Roxanne and Megamind, their faces, close together—Megamind leaning over to her, smiling wickedly, Roxanne with her head tilted up, looking at him, her lips half-curved in an amused smile and parted to say something. Only—the photographer had caught them both in mid-blink or something, because both of their gazes appeared to be focused on each other’s mouths.
Roxanne Ritchi’s Supervillain Scandal!!! had been the title of the thing, complete with the three superfluous exclamation points.
She’d gotten a panicked phone call from her mother (no, mother, of course I’m not having an affair with Megamind; yes, mother; I’m sure; that’s not a thing that I wouldn’t be sure about); there’d been calls to the station, asking if it was true, asking if she’d give an interview. And she’d seen people, at work, and out in public; she’d seen them staring at her and whispering behind her back or just out of earshot.
It had been—upsetting.
Upsetting in a way that was—different, somehow, from the way people assuming she was with Metro Man had been irritating.
(probably because of how you—)
It had just been upsetting.
When Wayne had given an interview of his own to a different, rather more respectable magazine, explaining that he and Roxanne had never been in a relationship, she’d been glad, at first, that at least one public misconception about her love life had been cleared up. And she’d hoped it might distract people from the whole Megamind debacle.
It had hurt when she realized a good many people were assuming that Wayne was just getting rid of her because she had been cheating on him. And it had hurt more when she realized that other people—
It had been at work, when she figured out just what people were thinking about her. Roxanne had been on he way to the copy room; she’d passed a cubicle, and had heard several of her co-workers inside—talking.
About her.
They hadn’t known she was there; they’d been facing away from her, looking at a computer screen, with the picture from the tabloid article on it.
“—ridiculous, of course it’s not true,” one of them had said. “Don’t tell me that Roxanne Ritchi, miss vanilla-as-they-come, miss ‘I bought the same dress in three different colors’—”
The woman clicked the mouse and a series of images flashed across the computer screen: Roxanne in that cute purple dress, the one with the ruffled neckline—and then in her black version of the dress—and then in her blue version of the dress—
Roxanne had stood frozen in the hallway as the whole group of them laughed.
“—don’t tell me you really think that she,” the woman said scornfully, “is having some kind of steamy affair with him.”
Another click of the mouse, another image on the computer screen—Megamind, leaning up against the lair console and smirking, all eyeliner and black leather and sex.
“—I mean, come on! Can you imagine? He’d be wanting to bring out the ropes and handcuffs, and she’d just be complaining the entire time! Nag, nag, nag; can you imagine anyone less fun?”
Another chorus of laughter.
“I’d much rather imagine him,” someone else said, and several people agreed and started talking at once, and Roxanne hadn’t waited to hear the end of the conversation, but had gone to sit by herself in the copy room in the dark and try not to cry.
Was she—was she actually like that? Did people really—
(nag, nag, nag; can you imagine anyone less fun?)
—did Megamind think that about her, too?
(if you’d just act like a real damsel)
Sitting on the desk, now, watching Megamind search behind the picture frame for a hidden catch, Roxanne again found herself furiously repressing tears.
(go back to your boring, normal life)
—she did buy the same dress in different colors, a lot of times, yes, and the same shirt in different colors a lot of times, and the same jeans in slightly different washes, but surely that wasn’t that bad, was it? She was just—hard to fit, and particular about clothing textures and comfort and—
Besides! Megamind wore exactly one outfit; how was that any less boring?
—all right, so his was skintight leather, yes, okay, but still—
And he apparently wore a suit extremely well, Roxanne admitted bitterly, glaring at his back. Why wouldn’t he turn and look at her? Why did he have to keep acting like she wasn’t there?
Finally, he did turn to face her, a bland, calm expression on his face, and Roxanne wanted to break something. His eyes shifted from her to the desk (like she was nothing, like she wasn’t even there) and he tilted his head thoughtfully. He walked towards her—
—towards the desk. Not towards her. She just happened to be on the desk; he wasn’t walking towards her. He didn’t even really look at her, just knelt down and began to examine the paneling on the underside of the desk.
“Didn’t you spend enough time down there already?” Roxanne asked, breaking the silence, the words abrupt and ungraceful and ugly, and god, it was no wonder people laughed at the idea of Megamind finding her attractive.
“—yes, well,” Megamind said, still beneath the desk. “I was a little—distracted—at the time.”
For one wild, heart-flipping moment, Roxanne thought he meant he’d been distracted by her, but—
“There was—rather a lot happening,” Megamind continued.
—ah. Of course. The people; he was talking about the people.
Oh, get a grip, Roxanne; of course he was talking about the two people making out on top of the damn desk. Of course he didn’t mean you. As if he would ever.
Roxanne scowled out the window at the city lights as Megamind tapped at the underside of the desk, searching for hidden drawers.
(Roxanne Ritchi, miss vanilla-as-they-come)
Vanilla. Well, what was wrong with being vanilla? What was the big deal about sex, anyway, that was what Roxanne wanted to know. The (okay, admittedly not that many) times she’d had it were—nice enough, she supposed, but hardly anything amazing.
(maybe there is something wrong with you. maybe you’re just—)
—cold. frigid.
boring.
Roxanne gritted her teeth.
(miss vanilla-as-they-come; he’d be wanting to bring out the ropes and handcuffs, and she’d just be complaining the entire—)
She wasn’t—just because she’d never—it wasn’t like she was opposed to the idea of ropes and handcuffs! With the right person! Someone she—
(I’m not scared of you)
—trusted; someone she really—
(don’t know what else you want from me, miss ritchi)
—wanted; someone—
It wasn’t—it wasn’t like she actually wanted to have an affair with Megamind! Not—obviously, obviously she didn’t! Obviously she didn’t actually want Megamind to tie her up and have his wicked way with her—
(bent over the console in the lair; tangled up with him in his bed; lying back on this desk; didn’t want him to kiss her, didn’t want him to touch her, didn’t want him to shove her skirt up and screw her until she screamed)
—because—
(didn’t want him to smile at her, didn’t want him to talk to her, didn’t want him to care about her, didn’t want him to love—)
—because that would be ridiculous.
Ridiculous.
Obviously she didn’t want to have an affair with him. Obviously.
It just.
It just would have been nice to think that she could have.
If she’d wanted to.
Which she didn’t.
Obviously.
Megamind stood up from beneath the desk and glanced over at Roxanne, who was glaring out the window with an expression of extreme displeasure.
He glanced over his shoulder, saw nothing but the city lights.
“What?” he said.
“What!” Roxanne jumped, looking over at him with wide eyes, as if she’d forgotten he was there. “I—what?”
“What were you looking at?” Megamind asked.
He glanced over his shoulder again, but again saw nothing but the window and the city lights.
“What?” Roxanne said. “Oh—that’s—nothing. I wasn’t—I wasn’t looking at anything. I was thinking of something else—do you think this dress is nice at all?” she asked, absolutely out of nowhere.
There was a very long pause in which Megamind unsuccessfully attempted to think why in the everlovingfuck she would ever, ever ask him what he thought of her dress.
“What?” he said, finally, cautiously.
“—nothing,” Roxanne said, scowling again. “Never mind.”
She glared at the window again, lips pressed together tightly, her mind clearly reverting back to her original thought, as if he’d never even spoken, as if he wasn’t even there.
Megamind’s lips twisted as he turned away from her to examine the computer itself.
He couldn’t hold her attention even when he was right in front of her.
What was she thinking about so furiously? Was she angry about something? About the tabloid—no; she’d just pointed out that he wouldn’t have any excuse to kidnap her any longer; surely the prospect of finally being rid of him balanced out any annoyance at that ridiculous rumor.
She’d said she was annoyed about it, of course, had said that was why she was up here, but he’d been pretty sure she was lying when she—
—said that. He was pretty sure she’d been lying when she’d said that; he never had gotten a satisfactory answer as to why she was here, and now she was glaring out the window, deep in thought about something else and—
No wonder he couldn’t find the file.
Megamind turned slowly towards Roxanne.
“You,” he said. “You already have it.”
Roxanne jumped again.
“What?” she said.
“You have it,” Megamind said, growing steadily more certain—that would explain why she seemed so on edge tonight.
“Have—?” she asked blankly, for all the world as if she didn’t know what he was talking about, but there was no way he was falling for that.
“The surveillance file,” he said, stalking slowly around the desk towards her. He watched her face as he approached, and saw color rise to it, and knew he was right. “That’s what you were doing here.”
“I—” she slid off the desk with an artificial little laugh. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“That’s why I can’t find it,” he said softly.
He took another step towards her, and she actually stumbled back, coming up against the desk. Her hands went back to catch herself.
“You already have it,” he said.
She swallowed visibly, and her eyes flicked down and to the side, breaking his gaze.
Megamind followed the direction of her eyes—ah, yes, of course—
Her eyes flicked up to his again, and widened, and she made a little movement with her left hand, as if she wanted to hide the handbag she was holding.
Megamind smiled, right hand darting out to grab her wrist.
The swiftness of the motion must have caught her off guard, because she let him do it, didn’t even try to pull away as he lifted her hand up and plucked the handbag from it with his free hand.
She took a sharp breath, and her wrist jerked in his grip. Megamind let go of it and took half a step back, opening the handbag, looking through it.
—car keys, hairpins, painkillers, lipsticks—
He frowned, disconcerted, and glanced up at Roxanne.
She was holding her left hand, the one he’d grabbed, close to her chest, fingers of her right hand wrapped around her left wrist. Megamind felt a flash of surprised concern—he hadn’t hurt her, had he? Surely he hadn’t hurt her; he’d been very careful—
“What?” Roxanne said.
She glanced down at her own hands and let go of her wrist quickly, as if he’d caught her doing something she didn’t want him to see—
“What?” she said, again, but in a different tone, and when he looked up into her face once more, she lifted her chin and raised her eyebrows challengingly.
Her lips curved in that perfectly maddening smile of hers, sending heat down his spine.
“Can’t you find what you’re looking for, Megamind?”
Megamind growled under his breath in frustration. He tossed the purse down onto the desk without looking.
“You do have it,” he said. “I know you do.”
He walked deliberately towards her, but this time, although color still rose in her cheeks, she didn’t try to move away from him.
“You have it,” he said again. “The only question is—”
(do you think this dress is nice)
(gloating; she’d been gloating; she’d been playing with him; there was no other reason for her to ask him what he thought of her dress.)
“—where did you put it?”
...to be continued .💋
notes: knife laws vary from state to state--fanon has Metro City in Michigan, where, during the time that this story is set (pre-2010), certain knives like switchblades were illegal, but butterfly knives were not.
Day 18 of my Birthday Fic Month! And day 7 of the Megamind tumblr Valentine’s Week event! The prompt used was ‘we’re NOT dating’.
I hope you all liked the update!
Always
Megamind/Roxanne
established relationship, K+ rating
A sweet and fun moment between Megamind and Roxanne.
AO3 | FFN
Roxanne closed her laptop and set it aside.
That was enough work for tonight. She let herself lean back against her couch cushions, then looked down at Megamind, sitting on the floor in front of her, his elbows on the coffee table as he reread that Shy Violet book he loved so much yet again.
He had his back to her, and his shirt was off—Roxanne liked the ambient temperature of her apartment a little too warm for Megamind’s taste; he spent a lot of his time there shirtless, a circumstance, Roxanne felt, which had no downside.
Megamind was really very beautiful, slender and strong, with skin the color of the sky. Being able to look at him like this was a pleasure in and of itself. Besides, it was—there was a kind of trust implied in his wandering around her apartment half-naked. It had taken ages for him to feel comfortable taking his clothes off around her at all, and even longer for him to feel comfortable enough to do it casually.
Roxanne smiled down at him, lifting a hand absently up to hook her fingers in the collar of the shirt she was wearing—if collar was even the right word; it was one of Megamind’s shirts that he’d cut the actual collar out of so that it would fit over his head. It was a faded, black thing, thin and soft with too much washing, with tiny holes starting to show along the bottom hem and on the edges of the sleeves.
Megamind’s habit of wearing the clothes he liked until they fell apart drove Minion up the wall, Roxanne knew, but it meant that his shirts were the most comfortable things imaginable. She was always borrowing them to wear as pajamas.
Megamind turned a page in his book and Roxanne traced up the line of his spine with her eyes, up the back of his neck to the sweet, vulnerable curve of where it met the base of his head.
He was just too lovely not to touch. She leaned forward and ran the nails of her right hand lightly down his back.
Megamind made a surprised noise, and then another noise when she repeated the motion with her left hand, a sort of alien “mmmm,” sound, something like a growl and something like a purr. She scratched lightly up his back with both hands and Megamind arched into her touch, bending forward to give her better access to his back. He closed the book and leaned onto the coffee table, forehead on his crossed arms.
“Ah, god, Roxanne, that feels fantastic,” he said.
Roxanne, running her nails over his shoulder blades, laughed as he wriggled a little beneath her hands, trying to direct them to the middle of his back. She obliged him, moving her hands lower, raking her nails gently over his back, and Megamind made that pleased purring sound again.
Roxanne smiled a little wickedly and ran her fingertips over his ribs. Megamind yelped and jerked.
“Ah!” he said. “Tickling! No tickling! Scratching!” He twisted beneath her hands, laughing, not really trying to get away. “Go back to the nice scratching!”
Roxanne laughed and continued tickling him.
“Roxanne!” Megamind said, arching and laughing, “St-stop that this instant! You—ah! Desist! Quit it!”
He scrambled away from her, rolling to his feet, and Roxanne followed, hands outstretched.
“Surrender!” she demanded. “You cannot escape me!”
“Fiend! Villain!” Megamind said, both of them laughing now as he dodged away from her. “With your—stop that right now!—fiendish, villainous hands!”
He made a break for the kitchen, but Roxanne raced after him, the two of them cackling as she chased him around the kitchen island, then the kitchen table. He ran back into the living room, Roxanne at his heels, and vaulted over the back of the couch. Roxanne jumped over the back of the couch, too, rather less gracefully.
“Your flight only delays the inevitable!” she declared, slightly out of breath from all the running and laughing. “Come back here and face your doom!”
“Never!”
She grabbed at him, but Megamind darted away from her, still laughing, and ran around the couch again. Roxanne followed, laughing, too.
He let her catch him the next time around the couch. Roxanne pounced, and both of them ended up on the floor. Megamind squirmed underneath her hands as she tickled him, both of them laughing until they ran out of breath, and then they collapsed back onto the floor, trying to catch their breath.
Roxanne, smiling and still panting a little, looked over at Megamind, who grinned back at her, that sharp-edges, lower-lip-caught-between-his-teeth smile of his, and—
(he’d been a supervillain, and she’d been tied to a chair, the first time she’d seen him smile like that)
—and now he was lying on her living room floor with her, and she was wearing his shirt, her ribs aching with laughter, and suddenly Roxanne felt breathless for a very different reason.
She reached out and touched his chin, traced over the line of his facial hair with a fingertip.
“You’re going to stay with me,” she said, “aren’t you?”
“Tonight?” Megamind said, looking faintly surprised. “Yes, of course, I—”
Roxanne shook her head.
“Always,” she said. “You’re going to stay with me always.”
Megamind took a quick little breath, his eyes looking into hers.
“Yeah,” he said, voice soft, “always.”