–and the supervillain who regularly kidnaps you is circling you in his wheel-y chair and you’re exchanging snarky banter and it’s all pretty much business as usual until you lean forward to give emphasis to your next sarcastic remark
at the exact same moment
that heleans forward–
(because he thinks it makes him look more menacing)
(it doesn’t),
and…
(fuck)
(shit)
(FUCK)
…and you’re both just sort of sitting there frozen
…not moving
….not moving
–oh god what the fuck do you do–
–and your stomach is doing that stupid swooping thing it does sometimes when he stands too close and your heart is beating way too fast, fluttering against your sternum and you can feel yourself blushing because–
–okay, maybe you’ve got a thing for black leatherand
–okay, maybe you’ve got a thing for nerdsand
–ohfuckingkay, maybe you’ve actually got a huge thing