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kinglazrus · 4 years ago

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Deep Wounds Ch. 1 - Who's to Blame?

Phic Phight | Next | AO3 | FFN

Submitted by @q-gorgeous: Identity reveal. Dash finds out Danny is Phantom. Could be swagger bishie or not, either or is okay.

Submitted by @aj-itated: Dash catches Danny changing after gym, and spots a huge (poorly stitched) wound on his side. Dash is now convinced Danny is either abused or part of a gang, and has no idea how to deal with either - or how to interact with Danny, now that he can't bully him.

Summary: Dash didn't mean to see it, not that it was his fault. If Danny didn't want anyone to notice the bloody mess on his side, then he shouldn't be checking his bandages in the middle of the boy's changing room. But it's too late, and Dash has no clue what to do now that he thinks Danny might be getting hurt at home.

Word count: 4253

“He’s gonna know.”

As Tucker's shadow falls over him, Danny starts, rudely yanked out of his daydream. The hand cradling his chin drops to his lap, fingers brushing the grass, and he fixes Tucker with a confused glare. "What?"

"You are super unsubtle," Tucker says. "He's gonna knooow."

Tucker and singsong aren’t two words Danny would normally use together, but it is the best way to describe the lyrical bounce in Tucker's voice as he drops onto the grass. Too bad his musical prowess seems limited to teasing jabs and not the screeching caterwaul Danny usually associates with Tucker and singing.

"What are you talking about?" Danny asks, his annoyance mounting.

"Oh, come on." Tucker leans back and sweeps his arm out to the field, motioning to the warm-up game some of their classmates are playing, which Danny had been watching fervently until he was interrupted. His gaze skims over the scuffle taking place over the ball, settles briefly on Dash lounging in front one of the nets, then goes back to Tucker.

"I don't know what you mean," Danny says.

"Tucker, be nice. Don't tease the oblivious," Sam cuts in. Sitting on Danny's left, she is flipping through a book rather than watches the scrimmage. How she got the book past Tetslaff, Danny has no idea. Magic, maybe. The more likely answer is that Tetsflaff saw it and just didn't care since Sam one of the best students in their class.

Danny could never get away with it, though. "Seriously. What are you guys talking about?"

"Oh, poor Danny." Tucker tsks and shakes his head. "In time, you, too, shall mature enough to understand your own emotions."

"I'm mature enough to ectoblast you in the face," Danny says.

"That is literally the exact opposite of mature."

"You're the exact opposite of mature."

"Game time!" Tetslaff's bellow cuts off what surely would have been a clever retort from Tucker. Her booming voice, powerful enough to challenge Danny's father's, echoes across the field and brings the scrimmage to a halt. At the far net, Dash rises to his feet and brushes the grass from his shorts.

"Captains!" Tetslaff calls. Valerie and Dash's hands shoot into the air, faster than anyone else's. Sam, still focused on her book, raises her hand half-heartedly, then lowers it to turn the page. No one else offers to be team captain, but Tetslaff doesn't seem to mind. This is how their classes usually go when they do team sports. "You know the drill. Pick your players, take your positions, and for heaven's sake, someone take Fenton."

Snickers break out through the class. Danny drops his face into his hands, muffling a groan against his palms.

He hates gym class for a lot of reasons. For one, sports aren't really his thing. He might be strong, thanks to his ghost half, but that doesn't make him any better at sports. Because of that, he's usually the last picked when it comes to games like soccer. And then there's Dash, who sucks sometimes, but he used to suck more. A lot more. He has mellowed out since freshman year, although he's not opposed to jostling Danny in the hallway now and then.

But the absolute worst thing about gym class is playing when he's injured; it doesn't happen often. Danny's been ghost fighting for nearly three years now, and he doesn't get hurt as much as he used to. Experience has wizened him up to the wonders of dodging. His enemies still get lucky sometimes, though, and last night, Technus got him good. Hacking and slashing isn't usually Technus' thing, but the rabid dishwasher the ghost sicked on Danny was damn good at it. He has the deep slash across his left side to show it.

It's healing well, but a wound like that needs more than a few hours before he is back in peak condition. Sam, whose house was closest after the fight, stitched Danny up as best as she could. Both she and Tucker had gotten good at that over the years, but for all Sam's skill, she was still just a high schooler who learned off YouTube tutorials. Before bed, Danny bound the wound tight, took a couple of Advil, and slept with an icepack slapped against his side.

It still hurts like hell, though.

A sharp whistle pierces Danny's thoughts. He winces at the noise, along with most of the class. Dash and Valerie, the victims of Tetslaff's ire, actually flinch.

"Baxter, Grey, stop bickering," Tetslaff says.

Caught up in his thoughts, Danny hadn't noticed their argument, but it's impossible to miss the tight anger in Valerie's crossed arms or the annoyance in Dash's glare.

"Baxter, Grey made her pick. Mr. Cheong goes with her." Tetslaff points at Kwan, then jerks her thumb toward Valerie. With a despondent sigh, Dash pats Kwan on the back, watching his best friend trudge to Valerie's team as if he was going to his grave.

"They're so dramatic," Danny says.

Tucker nods in agreement. "I know, right?"

Sam lowers her book to stare at them. "You cannot be serious."

"What did we say?" Danny asks.

Sam sighs and rolls her eyes but doesn't elaborate further.

Back on the field, Valerie gestures to the dwindling number of classmates yet to be claimed. "Your next pick," she says to Dash.

Dash scans the lineup, his gaze lingering on Danny for a few moments before skipping right over Tucker to Sam. "Manson, you're with me."

"Ugh, of course." Sam marks her page and passes the book to Danny. "You gonna be okay? How's your side?"

He holds back a grimace. "I'm good. I'll tell Tetslaff I'm sick or something so I can sit out."

Sam nods, satisfied, and joins Dash's team.

"Tucker!" Valerie calls.

"Good luck, dude." Tucker gently pats Danny's shoulder before stepping onto the field.

With his friends gone, and the rest of the class distracted by the team pick, Danny shuffles over to Tetslaff. "I don't really feel good. Can I sit out?"

Tetslaff looks him up and down. "You gonna throw up?"

"I don't know. Maybe?"

"You got a fever?" Before Danny can even answer, Tetslaff slaps her hand against his forehead. He flinches back, wanting nothing more than to peel her warm palm off his skin. She holds it there for a few seconds before finally drawing away. "No fever. got a doctor's note?"

"Uh... no? I've been at school all morning."

"If you feel like you're about to throw up, book it off the field. Otherwise, you're playing."

"But—"

"Fenton, do you really want to be the only kid in Casper High history to fail gym class?" Tetslaff asks.

The threat might have been more effective if Danny hadn't spent half his high school career one bad grade away from flunking out, but he doesn't have the energy to fight her on it. "Okay, Coach."

"That's the spirit! Now get out there and show me some hustle!" Tetslaff slaps Danny on the back. He bites back a cry of pain as he stumbles forward, one hand shooting to cradle his side. Tetslaff's hand, though broad, missed the actual injury, but the sheer impact made his bones rattle and his wound flair with pain.

"Okay," Danny mutters. Just stay out of Dash's way and move enough to escape Tetslaff ire. It can't be that hard. He presses a hand to his side, feeling the thick gauze through his shirt. Closing eyes so that no one sees them glow, he phases his palm through his shirt and ices over his injury. The numbing cold helps, somewhat, and it should hold up for the whole class.

"I can do this." He falters when he steps toward the field. It looks like Valerie and Dash finished picking their teams while he was busy with Tetslaff and the game is already underway. He hovers on the sideline, unsure where to go.

"Getting worked up already?" Valerie's voice startles him.

Danny flinches and twists toward her, sending a sharp twinge across his ribs. He hisses, regretting the sudden move, and squeezes his side once more.

"You okay?" Valerie asks.

"Just fine. Sorry, what did you say?"

"You look like you're stressed out already. It's just soccer."

Danny rolls his eyes and nudges her arm. "Sure. Tell me that when Dash's team is up by five and I have stop you from kicking his kneecaps in."

Valerie laughs, no denial falling from her lips. "Oh, please. We both know I'd go for the throat. You're with me, by the way."

"Oh, thank God."

"Don't kid yourself, Danny. We both know you'd love to be on Dash's team."

Danny's mind blanks for a moment, his cheeks growing hot against his will. "Uh... what? He literally used to beat me up every day."

"Keyword, 'used to.' And I never said you had good taste." Valerie shrugs. "Except for me, at least. But don't worry about it. Now come on; I want you on defence. You suck at scoring, but at least you can take a hit."

Danny hopes he doesn't need to.

—

No hits come his way, to Danny's immense relief. At least they are playing soccer and not football. Or floor hockey, God forbid. Danny's ankles still smart from the last time they played that. With soccer, there's not a whole lot of opportunity for Danny to get knocked around. Stuck on defence, he even has an excuse to hang back, hold off on all that "hustle" Tetslaff wanted to see. His teammates charge up and down the field, shouting and jeering as they fight over the ball, and Danny gets to trail behind, halfway between the throng and his team's net. He spends most of his time watching Dash. Purely so that he's ready if Dash decides to go after him, not for any other reasons.

"Suuure that's the reason," Tucker says when he notices Danny staring.

"It is!" Danny's protest falls on deaf ears.

Dash catches Danny's gaze more than once. Rather than looking away, Danny can't resist offering a shit-eating grin and a friendly wave every time. If he had any self-preservation skills, he would stop immediately. But there's a reason he's half-ghost now, and it's definitely not because of his critical thinking skills.

He manages to stay out of the action, for the most part, only rushing in when the ball comes close to him. Otherwise, Tucker and Elliot handle the rest. Tucker knowingly spares him the pain of ripping his stitches. Elliot, meanwhile, likes to swoop in at every opportunity to show Danny up. It might have gotten a rise out of Danny any other day, but right now, when his side throbs every time he takes a step, Elliot is welcome to do whatever he wants.

When they have class outside, Danny can't tell how much time is left. He guesses they are about halfway through, and nothing bad has happened yet. Maybe he can get through this, after all.

That's when he jinxes himself.

"Heads up!" Valerie's warning shout comes just in time. Danny ducks instinctively, hissing when his injury pulls. The soccer ball flies over his head, skimming the top of his hair. Then, Dash collides with Danny, his shoulder digging into Danny's side. He cries out as he goes sprawling, hands shooting to his side. It burns, searing across his ribs, almost as bad as when he first got the wound. The pain makes his head spin and his breath ragged.

He must blackout for a moment, because one second his face is pressed against the cool grass, and then suddenly he's staring up into Tetsalff's concerned face, Valerie, Sam, and Tucker hovering behind her.

"Deep breaths, Fenton," Tetslaff says.

It would be great advice if breathing didn't make his chest expand, and his chest expanding didn't make the gash on his side strain against the few stitches that hadn't popped when Dash rammed into him at full speed. What the hell. That was such a dick move.

"Okay, Fenton. You're out for the rest of the class. Go to the nurse if you need to," Tetslaff says.

He nods but makes no move to get up. He doesn't know if he can.

Tetslaff sees his plight, whether she understands the reason for it or not, and barks over her shoulder. "Baxter! Your fault, your problem. Help Fenton inside."

"We can take him," Tucker says. At the same time, Dash whines, "Come on, Coach. There's no way I hit him that hard."

Tetslaff sticks out an arm, holding Sam and Tucker back. "Get to it, Baxter."

Dash groans but relents and steps into Danny's field of view. Rather than kneeling, or doing anything actually helpful, he bends down a little and sticks out his hand.

Danny stares at it.

"Well? You're holding up the game, Fenton."

Danny almost gets up on his own, just to spite Dash, but the second he tries to lever himself up, his side screams, and Danny has to bite back another cry of pain. Reluctantly, he grabs Dash's hand. Dash hauls him upright, far from gentle, and sets Danny down on his feet. Dash starts forward, but Danny hangs back.

"Hurry up," Dash says.

"Just... hold on a second." Danny squeezes his eyes shuts and clamps his hands against his side. The pressure helps, a little. If he's bleeding, it'll at least hide the evidence. He really hopes he put enough gauze on the wound. He didn't exactly think he'd be dealing with this today when he wrapped it.

"Dude, we can take you," Tucker says. He and Sam haven't moved away. Even Valerie still hovers close by, giving Danny a concerned look over his friends' shoulders.

"Manson, you're team captain until Dash gets back. Foley." Tetslaff shakes her head. "Your grades aren't much better than Fenton's here. Let's go, back on the field. It's game time.

"But—"

"It's fine, guys." Danny tries to smile, but he is sure it comes out like a grimace instead. Neither of them look like they believe him.

"Ms. Tetslaff!" Valerie steps in front of the teacher. "Danny's on my team. I want to make sure he's okay. Kwan can take over as captain for me."

"Okay, fine. Now let's get back to the game, people!" Tetslaff puts a hand on Sam and Tucker's shoulder each and pushes them toward the field. Over her shoulder, Sam mouths "Thank you" at Valerie.

"Can we just hurry up?" Dash says. Before Danny is ready, Dash's hand clamps down his shoulder and starts driving him forward. Danny stumbles, nearly tripping over his own feet, and is forced to open his eyes or else go tumbling all over again. Valerie appears on his injured side, walking fast to keep up with Dash's pace.

"Are you okay?" she asks. She reaches toward Danny, but holds back, her gaze flitting down to the hand over his ribs.

"Yeah, totally fine. I, uh, got caught up in that ghost fight yesterday, got a little bruised," he says.

"You should have told Tetslaff. She would have let you sit out," Valerie says.

"Yeah, I should have." Too bad Danny hadn't thought of that lie before. And it wasn't even a lie, technically.

The walk to the gym doors feels much farther than it did at the start of class. Dash yanks the door open once they're close enough and deposits Danny on the nearest bench. "There, you're fine. Whatever."

"Don't be such a dick, Dash," Valerie says.

Danny wobbles, bracing himself against the wall as he sits down. While Valerie helps, grabbing his arm and keeping him steady, Dash doesn't make a move.

"Are you sure you're okay?" she asks.

"Yeah. I'm just gonna sit for a bit."

"If you say so." With one last concerned glance, Valerie leaves the gym.

Danny sits, one hand pressed against his side, feeling the deep, pulsing ache that won't leave. The ice he applied earlier hasn't faded yet, but if Danny's stitches are ripped as he suspects, a little numbing cold won't help for much longer.

Dash clears his throat, reminding Danny that he hasn't left yet.

"What?" Danny glares at him through half-lidded eyes.

"Sorry, or whatever. I thought you were gonna move, okay?"

"You sure sound sorry."

Dash bristles. "Whatever, Fenton. I was trying to be nice, but I guess I'll just fuck off then."

"Yeah, you do that."

Dash stomps out of the gym without looking back, slamming the door behind him. The bang echoes through the empty room. Alone at last, a whimper slips through Danny's lips. You would think that, over the years, he would get used to getting injured so much, learn to adjust to the pain. Whoever first said that was such a liar. It never stops hurting. Dizzying pain is dizzying pain no matter how often you experience it.

Danny sits for a few minutes, breathing slow and even, bracing himself for what he knows is coming. Peeling his hand away from his side, he checks his shirt. Faint pink splotches greet his eyes, not a lot, but enough to make him groan. He reaches under his shirt, slipping his fingers underneath the bandages, and probes the tender skin. His fingers come away slick and red.

"Shit." He applies a fresh coat of ice, enough to seal over the wound, and pushes himself off the bet, slick hand sliding against the wood. The entrance to the boys' changeroom lies only a few feet away, but it feels farther. He shuffles inside, bracing one hand against the wall. The hall leading in stretches for a good ten feet before cutting into a sharp right angle and opening into the main room.

The silence inside is just as oppressive as the quiet of the gym. Even though it's the middle of the school day, being here without the chatter of other boys as they change feels odd.

Danny lets himself slump onto the bench, breathing heavily

"I'm gonna kill Dash," he says to the empty room. But knowing his luck, Dash would come back as a ghost and haunt the hell out of him. It seems like the kind of asshole thing he would do

Danny fumbles for his bag, hooking his finger around the strap and dragging it close. It takes him a minute of digging to find his phone, which he stuffed inside at the start of class. He quickly checks the time. There are ten minutes left of class. More than enough time to check his side and get patched up before Tetslaff dismisses everyone to get changed.

The smart thing would be to go into one of the showers, make sure he has complete privacy, but he doesn't want to put in the effort of walking that far.

"It'll be fine," Danny says and gets to work

—

Dash doesn't return to the game. As the gym door slams beside him, he leans against the wall and stares down at his shoes. Outside, he looks composed, but in his head, his thoughts tumble about. He can't shake the image of Valerie's glare. Fenton couldn't take a hit, so what? It's not like Dash actually didanything. He's gotten Fenton a lot worse than that before. It's not his fault the guy was already banged up from some dumb ghost fight. Not his problem.

And yet, the pained cry as Dash bowled Danny over, the sight of his crumpled body on the grass... it makes Dash shudder.

"I apologized," he says. There's no one around to hear it, to justify him. He wonders what his therapist will say about this, if Dash bothers mentioning it at their next appointment.

Valerie's glare flashes through his mind again.

"Okay, fine!" He throws his arms up and shoves away from the wall. One quick moment to check on Danny, then he'll return to the game. He's only doing this so that his therapist doesn't give him that look on Monday; the look that isn't quite disappointed, because she could never be disappointed in one of her clients, but comes pretty damn close.

Dash only receives that look when he does something dumb, like shoving nerds in lockers or taking his anger out on someone else.

Dash eases the door to the gym back open and peeks inside. The bench he left Danny on is empty. A smear of red stands out against the pale wood. Dash creeps inside, closing the door quietly behind him. His heart sinks as he nears the bench, and comes to the unmistakable conclusion: blood.

Not my fault, Dash reminds himself. It does little in the way of reassurance. Walking briskly, he heads for the doors leading further into the school. If Danny is bleeding, he must have gone to the nurse. Which means he will be fine, but Dash needs to be sure.

A low groan stops him in his tracks.

For a moment, he thinks he imagined it, but then it comes again, accompanied by a pained hiss. The sound comes from the changing room. Holding his breath, he turns from the door and enters the changeroom.

Short, sharp breaths greet him, growing louder as he nears the main room. A shaky whimper cuts through, followed by a gasp.

Dash peeks around the corner. He sees Danny's shirt first, discarded on the bench. Next to it is a pile of wrappings. It looks like the ace bandages Dash uses whenever he gets a sprain, although he doesn't remember seeing Danny wearing any. And then, he looks to Danny himself and pales.

One arm drawn back, head tilted forward to see his side, Danny peels a stained gauze pad away from his bloody ribs. Suddenly, Dash can't breathe. His throat feels clogged. His heart hammers in his ear. The gash in Danny's side is easily the length of Dash's hand. It rips across his ribs and curves up toward his armpit, ending just under his arm. Dash doesn't know much about first aid, but the stitches holding the wound together look sloppy. They pull in different directions, turning what appears to be a clean cut into a wobbly mess. Around it, Danny's skin is stained red. Blood seeps between the stitches.

A few small drops slide down Danny's exposed skin as Dash watches, pooling briefly against the waistband of his gym shorts before they are absorbed

"Fuck," Dash whispers.

Danny jumps back, spinning mid-air to face Dash. In his horror, Dash doesn't think to question the impossibility of that action. Danny drops the gauze pad, which lands bloody side down on the floor, and clamps his arm down over the injury.

"What are you doing?" Danny's voice hitches, caught between an accusing growl and a startled squeak.

Dash gapes, mouth opening and closing as he searches for something to say. His mind comes up blank. "Danny, what... what the hell? What happened to you?"

Dash's voice seems to snap Danny out of his shock. All at once, his body goes rigid and his expression turns cold. "Get out."

"You need to go to the nurse!"

"DASH!" Danny bellows.

Dash stumbles back, falling against the wall. Tetslaff's laugh voice is loud. Jack Fenton's voice booms. But just now, Dash felt the floor shake under his feet. Danny's voice rumbled in Dash's chest, knocked him off his feet. The whole school must have heard it, they had to.

"I won't say it again. Get the hell out right now," Danny says.

Dash obeys. Whether it's out of fear or a genuine desire to follow Danny's will, he can't tell. He books it out of the changeroom, across the gym, and bursts outside, only to come face to face with Kwan and the rest of the class.

"Whoa!" Kwan reels back in surprise. "You missed the rest of the game. Val's team won."

"Oh, the game. Right." Dash takes a deep breath, struggling to get himself under control.

"So... you gonna let us in?"

Dash doesn't move.

"Get out of the way, Dash," Valerie says. Pushing to the front of the group, she tries to shove past him.

Dash leaps in front of her. "No!" He can't let anyone else see Danny.

"Dude, not cool. We want to check on Danny," Tucker says.

Dash wavers. Danny's friends have to know what's up with him, right? There is no way he could have stitched that up himself, not with how much struggle it took to even look at the injury. When Tucker and Sam slip by Dash, he makes no move to stop them. Their entrance opens the floodway, and soon enough everyone is pushing past Dash into the gym.

"Wait!" He latches on to Kwan's arm as his best friend passes.

"Did something happen?" Kwan asks.

Dash swallows, unsure how to answer. "Sort of?" Now isn't the right time to tell Kwan, though, not with their classmates around them, and the rest of their friends absent.

"Let's go get changed." Kwan pats Dash's shoulder and guides him forward. Every step closer to the change room, Dash's anxiety mounts. Danny reacted so poorly to one person finding him. Dash can only imagine what will happen—what stricken look Danny will wear—when half their class walks in on his shirtless and bloody.

Except, when they turn the corner into the change room proper, Danny isn't there. His stuff is gone, too. Tucker's crumpled gym shirt covers the spot where the gauze pad landed. There are no signs Danny was there at all.

#phic phight #phic phight 2021 #phanfic #phicc #dp fanfiction #danny phantom #danny phantom fanfiction #danny fenton #dash baxter #swagger bishie #danny/dash #deepwounds

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carol-munson · 7 years ago

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i ain’t missin’ you at all (V) (long af)

hi everyone, sorry this took 84 years to post but it’s really fucking long and i should literally go to jail for the smut that took me like, two weeks to write. hope it makes all of you bitches soaked.

thank u for ur patience btw, love you all for being on this gay journey with me.

Last Tuesday, Carol did someone a favor for free. The Thursday after that she helped two of her girls with their contraband sales technique. Today, she was able to stop four shiv attempts on her block (by getting the D-block bitches shivved first). With all of these good deeds and the overall new easy-going (well, as easy going as it could be) nature of Carol; C-Block had become a well oiled machine. Everyone working together for the common goal: drugs, money, contraband, and fucking up D-Block.

Carol figured this was as nice as she had to be this month. Every time she did something selflessly, she would tell SJ, to which she would reply:

“Carol, the point of doing nice things isn’t so you can brag about them,” she explained, “It’s just because you want to do them.”

“Could you just be happy for me for trying instead of telling me what to do?” Carol asked while sketching in her bunk, holed up in the corner.

“Care--,” Sarah started.

“Are you ass deep in commissary candy or are you getting stabbed in the Yard?” Denning cut her off matter-of-factly, still glued to the notebook in her hands.

“You knooow it’s not about commissary candy,” she groaned, “Ugh. You are so frustrating. It’s like talking to a wall.”

“Hm,” Carol replied, still concentrating on her drawing, “So that means you’re gonna stop talking, right?”

“So that means you’re gonna stop talking, right?” Sarah mocked her, “Hope you bring that attitude to the game.”

“I’ll beat that attitude right out of your fuckin’ mouth, pretty girl,” Carol said, getting up. Sarah’s breath caught in her chest: ‘pretty girl’. Denning never said shit like that to her, Denning never said anything like that to anyone.

“Pretty girl, huh?” She flipped her ponytail, trying to keep her cool, “Thanks.”

“Hey, just trying to be nicer like you said,” she said walking past her through the door of their cell, “Let’s go make my cunt sister eat her own shit.”

“Alright inmates, game time,” CO Rex called out at the door. The team rushed at attention, waiting for Carol to head the line, followed by SJ, and the others. Carol switched her brain to kickball mode -- a one track thought: beat D-Block. Beat D-Block. Beat D-Block. Be--

“But what he does he does so well, makes me wanna yell, let’s hear it for the boy! Oh let’s give the boy a haa-aaa-aaand. Let’s hear it for my baby, you know you gotta understaaa-aaan-nnd...”

Carol heard Sarah start singing quietly to herself behind, a few inmates humming along behind her. Who sings fucking Footloose at a time like this? Didn’t she realize how important these games were? To the whole block?

When the doors opened the girls walked outside, some of them hustling to the field, others hung back, mostly the old bitches who were just gonna watch.

“Cause every time he pulls me near, makes me wanna cheer! Let’s hear it for the b--”

“Please shut up,” Carol begged, turning around.

Feigning concern, Sarah teased, “What is it Care? Would you rather hear WHAM? I know, it’s your favorite band.” The other inmates around them snickered a little and hurried toward the field, including Sarah.

“HEY!” Carol called after them, “GEORGE. MICHAEL. IS. HOT!”

——

It was the bottom of the 9th and tied, the girls were tired but they were not letting up. Carol sat in the middle of the picnic table, the seat on the bench between her legs was reserved for the inmate on third base.

“COME ON C-BLOCK, HALF OF YOU BITCHES ARE IN HERE FOR GRAND THEFT OR LARCENY, I KNOW YOU CAN STEAL A BASE,” Denning called out to her teammates.

Barb was pitching, but surveyed the infield with the ball in her hand, getting ready to hit anyone who moved with an out. She pointed to Sarah and said to her fellow inmate, “Watch that one, she’s a fuckin’ sneak.”

“Oh fucking BITE ME, Barb,” Sarah hissed back, “Your Douche-block idiots couldn’t catch me if they wanted.”

The inmate playing third advanced on her but SJ turned with the quickness, fist raised, “I swear to god Greely if you fuckin’ touch me I’ll hit you into next week.”

That’s my girl, Carol thought to herself. Pride bubbled in her chest and she felt a genuine smile spread across her face. What was this? Have you ever admired someone so much you wanna fucking puke when you look at them?

Barb tossed the ball to second base when she saw Breslin try to steal, which set Sarah off running until Greely caught her by the scrunchie. With a struggle, she got free and bolted for home, hair flying behind her. She slid into the plate just as the ball got to the catcher -- who, evidently, wasn’t that great at catching.

“Another run for C-Block! Two outs! Next kicker,” called CO Rex, a big man with a bald head and a dark full eyebrows.

Sarah got up and dusted off the pant leg of her jumpsuit, hurling herself towards Greely, “I want my scrunchie back, you BITCH!”

C-Block cheered their girl on while Greely tossed her scrunchie to the side to avoid the fight. It didn’t stop Sarah from giving her a punch to the gut and in turn, getting a shot from the CO. When they separated, she went back to her spot on the bench between Carol’s legs. Carol squeezed her shoulders over her prison jacket when she sat down. Sarah reached up to pull her hair back but Denning stopped her, taking the scrunchie out of her hand.

“I watch you do it every day, let me try. It can’t be that hard,” she said when Sarah tilted her head back to look at her.

“I think, maybe,” Sarah started inquisitively, “You are a little too certain that you will be good at this.”

She nudged Sarah’s head to look forward so she could begin her handy work. Carol ‘Has Never Been Gentle’ Denning ran her fingers softly through SJ’s hair, doing her best to carefully remove any loose knots. She took her time to gather the bottom, sides, and top, and position the pony to the left side of her head.

“Other side, Denning,” Sarah said, her eyes on the field.

“Strike Two!”

Carol sighed and started over, savoring how soft her hair was, how it smelled like the beach whenever she moved it. Once she got the pony to the right, she wrapped the scrunchie around twice, doing the signature tighten at the end.

“Wow, even a finishing touch. I’m impressed,” Sarah said, tilting her head back again to look at Carol, the ponytail bouncing, “I hope it doesn’t look like shit.”

Carol tapped her finger on her friend’s nose and just she was about to respond they called the third out.

“That’s GAME. Win for C-BLOCK,” Rex announced and the girls clapped and cheered.

“ALRIGHT, INMATES, THAT’S GAME. EVERYBODY BACK INSIDE.” The COs on duty started ushering everyone back into the prison, feeling blessed that at least no one got stabbed this time.

“I’ll see you later in Rec, Care. I have to go to my work shift,” Sarah said, getting up to go and hustling to the door.

Carol got up and slowly strutted up the grassy hill to get to the entrance but stopped to turn around when she heard her sister laughing behind her.

“You got something to say to me, Barb?” Carol asked, turning around. Barb, flanked by two lackeys, stopped in front of her sister.

“Oh, Care, I just knew it,” she feigned a parent’s prideful gloat, putting a hand to her chest, “You’re a total dyke.”

“Aw, what is it Barbie?” Carol responded, cocking her head and putting her arms out beside her, “Are you just mad that no one’s wiped the cobwebs from your fucking Skeletor pussy since ‘82?”

The vein on Barb’s forehead pulsed, “No surprise you’re a fucking carpet muncher, Carol. You always liked 'em extra hairy.”

The girls cackled and shove Carol while they walked by, being beckoned by the guards. Carol took a cigarette out and put it to her lips, looking for her book of matches in her coat.

“Inmate Denning, let’s go! No cigs!” the CO called, making eye contact with her.

“Barb isn’t inside either! Why aren’t you yelling at her?”

He beckoned her in with his hand, “Final warning Denning.”

“This is fucking bogus,” she muttered, putting the unlit cigarette back in her pocket.

---

Later, in the rec hide out after all the sales for the day, Carol and Sarah assumed their most comfortable position. Sarah had half of her jumpsuit off, buttoned low enough to see the top of her briefs. Today’s subject was where each scar came from on SJ’s upper half. Carol gently traced a long slice on her shoulder, her head resting on the other.

“So this one,” Sarah pointed to a pink healed mark on her calf, lifting up her pant leg a bit, “This one— ahaha — you’re — it’s so stupid.” She could barely finish the sentence. Her laugh was so contagious Carol started giggling too.

“I tripped over a pipe in the shower and caught a nail that was sticking out,” she giggled, “Not hardcore at all.”

Carol laughed, “Are half of these just from you being a spaz, no fights?”

“I plead the fifth,” Sarah replied, a smile plastered on her face, “Wow, I really am such a fuckin’ spaz.”

“You’re reputation’s gonna suffer, Jensen,” she said. She resettled into the crook of Sarah’s neck, right where it meets her shoulder. This isn’t gay, right?

“Only if you tell other people,” she said. She scooted over to the box of loot and rested a finger over a wrapped hard candy, “Can I have one of these?”

“You got cash for it?”

“Seriously, Care?” Sarah whipped her head around, “Are you kidding?”

“I’m running a business, not a fuckin’ charity,” Carol shrugged, lighting a cigarette, “Sorry.”

Sarah sighed and pulled Carol’s notebook out from it’s hiding spot and popped the pencil out of the metal rings. She opened to a blank page and ripped out a little corner, scribbled something on it, and put the notebook back. After folding up the paper she handed it to Carol. Her stomach flipped when she read it. ‘I.O.U.’

Before she could process what this might mean she felt Sarah settle back against her chest. She heard the crinkle of the plastic as her friend put the candy in her pocket for later.

“This one,” Sarah started, pointing at a scar on her lower abdomen, “Was when I got my appendix out, that’s the only one I like to lie about.”

“Yeah?” Carol asked, hypnotized, letting a finger from her free hand trace over it. She felt SJ shiver against her. “Yeah. I dunno, I think it looks cool as a scar. More interesting to say I got stabbed instead of my side hurting really bad.” Carol took another drag of her cigarette and tapped it out, putting the remainder in her chest pocket. She watched Sarah stand up and peer out of the gate between the rackets, seeing if the coast was clear to go. Carol eyed her for a minute, feeling her ears get hot like they did sometimes when she looked at SJ too long. There was something so innocent about her to Carol in this moment: the hair falling out of her pony tail, curling from the humidity of the radiator in the rec room. How she gripped the gate and looked towards the door, like some six year old trying to catch Santa. How she liked to lie about her prison credibility like a kid who wants to fit in with the teenagers. Carol thought about how great it would be to just ruin that. And if Barb was gonna call her a dyke, she was gonna be the best fuckin’ dyke their ever was. Carol got up and stood behind her, sliding a hand onto Sarah’s lower back and gliding down between her legs over her pants. She ran two fingers down the length of her from behind, welcoming the heat encompassing them. Sarah stiffened when she felt Carol touch her, feeling her get close enough that she felt her breath on her ears, “What’re you doing?” “Getting paid,” Carol said in her ear, “You owe me, remember?” “Oh,” Sarah replied, both excited and terrified. She didn’t know Carol’s game, but Carol knew hers. Denning let her fingers linger over SJ’s navy clad lower body, pressing into the fabric just below her clit, “Take your clothes off for me.” Sarah shivered, turned around and, unbuttoned the last two buttons of her jump suit, letting it drop to the floor. She slipped off her prison shoes and tugged at her wife beater, underwear still on, feeling too exposed in front of Carol. “C’mon, you’re acting like I’ve never seen you naked before,” she said, working on taking off her own clothes. “I know, but...not like this, y’know?” Carol felt her insides twitch, that sweet little voice -- she could just deck her right in that pretty mouth. “If you want this to be a good time, you’ll do what I tell you to do.” Carol threatened, now wearing just her white t-shirt (with the sleeves rolled up, of course) and her briefs. She backed Sarah up against the gate, leaning on her left hand and using the right to slip into the other girls underwear. She reached down until she felt heat again, letting a finger wander down into wet slickness. Sarah’s heart raced and she bit her lower lip, trying not to make any noise -- the way Carol looked at her made her nervous. Three fingers found her clit and started massaging in a circular motion. Carol leaned in close to Sarah’s face, “You like that, huh?” Sarah gasped and nodded, leaning in to meet Carol’s lips to her own but before she could she felt a hand press her back against the gate. “What’re my rules, Jensen?” Carol asked, keeping eye contact. Her fingers on pause, “No snitching...” “No kissing,” Sarah said, meekly. She looked up at Denning with glassy eyes, aching to kiss her but knowing better than to break a rule. There was no saying what Carol would do if disrespected, she was unpredictable. “That’s right,” she said, slipping her hand out of Sarah’s underwear. Carol heard a little whine come out of SJ’s mouth as she put her hands on either side of Sarah’s head, “I thought you were paying me.” Carol dropped her hands and sat back on the metal chair up against the white concrete wall, she put one leg up and turned it to the side, exposing her underwear clad box to her friend, a sly smirk coming to her lips, “Hope you’re hungry, Jensen.” Sarah swaggered over to Carol and got on her knees in front of her, she was confident. SJ got tips, not for her moans, but for that mouth. And while she loved to receive, in the moments she gave, she gave it everything. Sarah tugged off Carol’s underwear and put them to the side, pushing her legs apart to reveal her prize. She let a finger glide through the wetness growing between Denning’s legs, and the girl shivered with a smirk, looking down at her friend. Carol let a hand fall on Sarah’s head, pulling out her ponytail and letting her hair fall around her face. Pretty girl. She gripped her hair hard and pulled her forward, but Sarah just wrapped her arms around Carol’s thighs. “Patience is a virtue, Care,” she said, looking up at her, leaving a kiss where her leg met her groin. With a wet tongue, she dragged up one of Carol’s outer lips, and then dragged a flattened tongue along the length of her pussy, from the bottom to the top. Carol gasped and squeezed the ball of hair in her hand, “Fuck, Sarah,” she said through gritted teeth, “Fuck.” SJ smiled while she spread her friend apart to get better access to her clit, exchanging between a fast and feathery lick to a slow and deliberate one. Catching her in her mouth and sucking with intent, looking up through her eye lashes while her best friend pushed hard up against her. She slipped further down and let her tongue explore her opening, sliding around the outside until plunge herself in, then out, and again. Deciding that, that that was enough of a tease, she reached her thumb up to her lips and licked it, placing it above Carol’s most sensitive spot (if there ever was one), and massaged in circles. “Ooh, is that what you like, Care?” she asked when she saw Denning’s thighs twitch. Carol nodded with her bottom lip tight between her teeth, her cheeks red, sweat forming at her hairline. “Do you like this too?” she asked, pushing inside of her, feeling her tighten around her finger. “Yes!” Carol yelped. She moved her hips in rhythm with Sarah’s finger and thumb before she switched to her tongue on her clit instead. Sarah pushed in another finger, using this new leverage to find that special button hiding a little higher up. With a curl of her fingers she heard Carol groan and felt her push her face deeper into her. Sarah smiled and pressed her tongue more firmly against Carol’s skin, mixing her saliva with with the wetness pouring out of her. “Oh fffffffuck yeah, eat this fucking pussy Jensen,” she growled, her eyes intense through her glasses. Carol moved passed newly aroused and glided into ‘Not a Bottom’ Denning. Sarah giggled and continued on, letting her tongue flutter softly over her before encasing the little button in her lips. Her fingers remaining at a steady pace, pumping a little deeper as she went. “Yesssss,” Carol hissed, leaning her head back against the wall, rocking her hips against Sarah’s face, “Fuck me like that, bitch, fuck me just like that.” Sarah stopped, pulled her fingers out of Carol and put her hands on her thighs. She looked up, noticeably annoyed, and said, “I’m not your bitch.” Carol put her legs down on either side of the chair and took her hand out of Sarah’s hair. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. She got close to her friends face, her eyes narrowed behind her glasses to meet Sarah’s gaze. “No?” she asked, “You’re not?” “I’m not your bitch, Carol,” Sarah said, strongly. “You sure about that?” Carol asked with a grin, an evil glint in her dark blue eyes. “Carol I hate when you say shit like--OW.” Carol gripped Sarah’s hair at the scalp with both hands and forced her head back, staring her right in the eyes. “You sure you’re not my bitch, Jensen?” she glowered, pulling her friend by the hair to lay on her back on the gym mat under them. She knelt on Sarah’s shoulders and sat on her chest, removing a hand from her hair to rest on her throat, “You sure?” It was like the devil looked through her glasses instead. Sarah gulped and shook her head ‘no’. Carol took the hand on her neck to grip her face her thumb and fingers digging hard into her cheeks, “Stick your tongue out.” Tears welled up un Sarah’s eyes and she kept her mouth closed, “Stick your fuckin’ tongue out, Jensen. I swear to God,” Carol took her hand off her face and finished up with two short hard slaps to Sarah’s full cheek, “I’m not fucking asking again.” Sarah slowly stuck her tongue out and saw satisfaction pour out of Carol’s face. Denning lowered herself onto her friends mouth, using one hand to steady her and the other gripped hard back into Sarah’s hair. She rode her face with force, making a point to not go too fast. Denning noted every desperate attempt Jensen made to try to please her, and the desperation was enough to send Carol over the edge. Sarah ‘Definitely A Fucking Bottom According to Carol’ Jensen had tears sliding out of her eyes and into her hair under her, unable to breathe, and more importantly, unable to show off her skills while in this position. “Oh, what is it?” Carol asked, moving back to Sarah’s chest. Before she could respond, Carol put a hand to her throat, hard, “You don’t like that?” Sarah choked in response. Carol’s other hand reached back into Sarah’s underwear and plunged a finger into her dripping, swollen pussy. Denning removed her hand from her partner’s underwear and put the now soaked finger into Sarah’s open mouth. She let go of her throat and with a deep breath out, SJ started to suck her juices off of Carol’s hand with vigor, all while regaining her breath. “Sort of seems like you do, pretty girl,” she said while Sarah looked up at her with innocent eyes, brimming with fear. When Carol pulled her hand back, SJ nodded back at her. “What?” she asked while moving down her body, sitting between her legs, “Are you saying you do like that?” Sarah nodded back, a little smaller this time, her cheeks burning red. “C’mon, where’s that attitude Jensen? Where’s that tough girl? I know you know how to answer a question,” Carol let her fingers dip into the band of Sarah’s briefs, pulling them half way down. “Ay..lye..the,” Sarah let out of a weak quiet mumble, half hiding her face with her hands. Carol slid her underwear all the way off. “I can’t hear you,” she said, pressing her fingers on each side of SJ’s clit to push back the hood. She licked her thumb on the opposite hand and used it as her tool of choice. She went slow at first, watching a new wave of wetness drip out of Sarah’s opening, her hips grinding into her fingers, “You wanna say that again for me?” “I like -- oh! -- thaaaat,” Sarah whined when Carol sped up the pace. With a coy smirk Carol took her index finger and slipped it slowly inside of SJ, replacing one thumb with the other to keep her stimulated. “Jeez, boys must’ve loved sluts like you in high school, Jensen,” she muttered feeling how snug her thin finger felt in between her legs. She felt a twinge of anger swell inside of her when she thought about all the guys that probably fucked her behind the stage curtains -- constantly getting attention from other people. Just like Barb, always getting so much fucking attention -- Carol shook the thought out of her head. “They couldn’t fuck me like you can, Carol,” Sarah said through heavy breaths, hips writhing. “You must wanna cum really bad, huh?” she asked with a teeth baring grin, slipping in a second finger. Sarah felt Carol’s pace slow down and she quickly grabbed her hand to try to bring her up to speed again, but Carol resisted against her until coming to a complete stop. “I thought patience was a virtue Sarah,” she said with a smirk and a cocked brow . Sarah whined and bent her legs at the knees and met her feet with the mat below them, pouting. Carol flattened herself on the mat in front of SJ, letting her hot breath tease her thighs while her arms wrapped around them. She let a soft flick of her tongue just barely touch the sensitive flesh between Sarah’s legs. “Please, Carol,” she begged, squirming under Care’s gaze. Carol didn’t know what turned her on more, making Sarah this wet or turning Sarah into this desperate, stupid, slutty idiot. Carol let out a soft chuckle at the sound of her voice, teasing her again, wanting to hear her say her name a second time. “Carol please, please,” she whined, shimmying her hips to try and move closer to Denning’s tongue. Carol could barely take it anymore, becoming aware of her own wetness when Sarah begged for her. She wanted to make her scream, she wanted to pull her close to her, to get passionate, to ki-- no. Not that far. Fuck that. Carol let her tongue meet Sarah’s pussy with a gentleness she didn’t know she had, smiling into her next movement as she heard SJ gasp. She pushed Sarah’s legs apart a little farther before getting back to work, letting her tongue dip inside of her and traveling higher with every exit. Carol kept her eyes locked on her while she savored the juices pouring into her mouth and onto the mat below them. Sarah had pushed herself up onto her elbows to looked down at Carol, her breath ragged. “Please don’t stop,” she barely whispered out, Denning felt her own insides twitch. She watched Sarah’s hair fall over her face and watched her flip it all to one side. Fuck. She’d kill her if she wasn’t so fucking delicious. You ever admire someone so much you wanna bash their head off a concrete wall? She felt Sarah’s fingers slip into her hair and she groaned into her while she caught her clit in her mouth. Her tongue was working over time, her mouth switching between sucking softly and then intently. She slipped two fingers back into Sarah and the opening greeted her by loosening just a touch before contracting hard around her again. She thrusted her fingers with expert rhythm, curling her fingers gently to barely brush Sarah’s favorite spot. “Ohmigod!--fuck--fuck! I’m gonna cum,” she squeaked out, laying herself back down. Carol sat up, fingers still forcing themselves deep inside of her while she leaned over Sarah, her face slowly inching closer to hers. “Yeah? You’re gonna cum?” Carol mocked her and used her free hand to grip her face hard, “Look at me.” SJ looked straight at her with glassy eyes. She tried to keep them from rolling back in her head while she felt Carol pump her fingers deep inside of her, hitting her g-spot intermittently. Aching for her to keep the same pace so she could release all of this pleasure building up in her belly. “Please make me cum, Carol,” she whispered in her best submissive voice. “Then say it, Jensen,” she hissed at her, letting go of her cheeks to deliver one hard short slap across her face, “Say it. ‘I’m your bitch, Carol.’“ Sarah’s eyes pooled with tears again, unsure if they were from pain or excitement, either way she wasn’t complaining. Denning sped up the pace and her eyes bore through her glasses into Sarah’s, her mouth in a permanent devilish grin. “I’m -- mmmf -- oh shit -- I’m yuhhh,” she was gasping, her hips bucking hard into Carol’s finger. “Come on, say it pretty girl, I’m not gonna let you cum until you say it,” Carol’s voice became condescendingly soft in her ear. Her pace slowed again and she heard Sarah whimper beneath her. She took her fingers out of her and massaged her clit at a moderate pace, three fingers steadily working in a circular motion. Sarah started panting. “I’m your bitch, Carol,” she choked out, sweat making her baby hairs stick to the side of her face. “What’s that?” Carol asked, inching her fingers back into her, adding a third. Carol immediately felt the fullness inside of her, losing her voice in her throat as she went to moan. “I’m gonna need to hear it louder,” Carol said and curled her middle finger to hit Sarah’s g-spot in quick succession as she propelled in and out of her. “Ooohhhh, fuck, FUCK, I’m your bitch, Carol. I love being your dirty fucking bitch,” Sarah growled, her eyes shut tight as her whole body shook underneath her friend. “Yeah, that’s my good girl,” Carol laughed while she watch Sarah writhe beneath her, feeling her get closer and closer with each fast contraction of her pussy. She switched one last time to quickly massaging her clit and it sent SJ hard over the edge. Sarah yelped and tried to close her legs but Carol forced them back open with her knees. With one final plunge of her fingers she felt liquid rush over her hand as Sarah came hard for her. As she came to, trying to steady her breathing, she pushed Carol’s hand gently out of her and put those three perfect fingers in her mouth, taking her time to suck her fluids off each one. She kept her eye contact, almost getting re-aroused while Carol watched her dominantly, still above her. “I just wanted to clean up my mess for you,” Sarah said, matter of factly. She sat up and turned to the side to get up, fetching her underwear to pull them on. Carol, now soaked at Sarah’s little submissive stunt, could’ve pulled her back down onto that mat to teach her another lesson -- but decided against it. She got up and strutted to the metal chair to grab her own underwear, slipping them on and pulling her jumpsuit on straight afterwards. She eyed Sarah as she slowly slipped into her jumpsuit and pulled her hair back up. “What?” she asked, noticing Carol staring while turning the corner of the gate to leave the Rec room. “You can’t ‘what’ me, Sarah, I’ll do whatever I want,” she said, following her through the door to the hallway. “You’re my bitch now, remember?” Carol stuck out her tongue and raised her eyebrows, giving Sarah a hard slap on her ass before jogging away from her down towards C-Block. “OH FUCK YOU DENNING!” Sarah called after her, her heart still pounding, hoping Carol’s was too.

#young carol denning #carol denning #carol denning imagine #carol denning fanfiction #carol denning smut #young!carol #oitnb season 6 #oitnb 6

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sassycassie-s-series · 7 years ago

Text

All My Fault 16

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): DC, BatFam - Damian Wayne/Batman

Rating: PG

Notes: (Masterlist) The Tag list is still open so if you want to be tagged in future chapters of this story, let me knooow! Also let me know if any of the chapter links break please. This is another longer than usual one to make up for the last one being a little short.

Tag List (Open): @batboys-and-other-messes @nanna-the-batmum @probsjosh @welovegroot

Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Ch 10, Ch 11, Ch 12, Ch 13, Ch 14, Ch 15

^^^^^

Three days after the gala and the media had yet to calm down about the photos that the event photographers took. The one of me laughing my head off and Damian slightly smiling while we were sitting on the sofa went viral with the tabloids and social media. They were speculating whether or not we were dating. We weren’t. The one of me forcing Frederick Augustine down onto his knees by my twisting his wrist and the other one of Bruce red in the face defending me after I left were causing quite the uproar. One of me and Damian dancing reinforced the rumors that we were dating. One of Dick and I dancing was just kind of there to show I was adjusting.

“You were right,” I remarked to Dick, Bruce, and Damian when I entered the kitchen for breakfast. “Everyone’s freaking out about everything.” I showed them my phone, which was still open to ridiculous rumors.

“Tt,” Damian tutted into his tea.

“Good thing your interview with Vicki is today,” Dick said. “I bet you’ll get to clear some of it up.”

“Yup,” I said, taking the toast Damian offered me and sitting at the counter. Bruce was reading the newspaper and drinking coffee as close to the wall as possible so he could lean against it.

The press liked to say that Tim was the coffee addict of the family since he always had a travel mug with him in almost every photo that the paparazzi got of him, but really Bruce was the coffee addict. He didn’t sleep enough back when he was Batman and I doubted much had changed now that he retired.

“Is Alfred taking you to the Gazette building or am I?” Dick asked as I ate my toast.

“I am,” Damian said so I didn’t have to talk with my mouth full.

“What?” Dick complained dramatically. “I wanted to play the chauffeur!”

“Alternately, I can,” Jason said, ducking into the room and heading for the fridge. “Fancy hat and sunglasses? No one will recognize me. The little gremlin can play escort again.”

“He’s not a gremlin, Jay,” I protested tiredly.

“No. None of you are going,” Damian said. “I am taking McCloud to the interview at the Gotham Gazette building and that’s that.”

Dick grumbled under his breath about no one in this family being any fun.

^^^^^

“So, we got the official statement that the Wayne family put out about you being lost in the time stream and your story to the police about the lights and colors, but what was it really like?” Vicki Vale asked.

“Honestly, Ms. Vale, I don’t remember much. Just lights and colors. I don’t think human minds are meant to process the stream of time itself.”

“Now, your blood trail led back to an alley in downtown Gotham, but you said you were taken from the grounds of Wayne Manor. Does that seem odd to you?”

I shrugged. “Not really. I mean, I don’t think getting lost in the time stream meant I had to get chucked out of it in the same location I was pulled into it. I don’t know anything about time travel, but it’s called the space-time continuum for a reason, right? Like they’re tied together?” I suggested.

“I suppose. Changing the subject a little, it was brave of you to go to a charity ball three days after arriving home. I understand you went to bed early, but how was that?”

“Mostly alright,” I replied. “Tiring, but Bruce and his family was there to support me.”

“Speaking of Mr. Wayne’s family, his youngest boy was your date, right?”

I bit my lower lip and glanced at Damian where he was standing behind all the cameras. “Mm… Damian accompanied me, yes. I don’t know if I’d go so far as to call it a date. Like you said, I’d barely been home for three days and I found out I went from the second-eldest to the youngest… basically overnight. Adjusting to Damian and I being about the same age when before it was Cass and I—” And Jason but I wasn’t supposed to ever have met him since he died before I was taken in. “—was definitely strange. It’s still strange.”

“I imagine. What about the photo released by the event photographer of you twisting Frederick Augustine’s hand behind his back? What happened there?”

“He was being far too forward with me. He put his hand on my backside. I didn’t give him permission to touch me like that so I defended myself. My dad always put me in self-defense and martial arts classes so I could defend myself if a man touched me inappropriately. Mom always taught me that I deserve to be respected and treated as an equal human being so I wasn’t going to just let him touch me inappropriately. A lot of people will try to destroy my reputation for it but I'm not going to sit here and apologize for defending myself against someone blatantly disrespecting me.”

Vicki gave me a supportive grin. “You go girl. You’re strong!” she said. “Now, what about the other photo that sparked a rumor that you and Mr. Wayne’s youngest, Damian, have entered into a romantic relationship?”

I scoffed. “Ms. Vale. I’ve been home for six days.” Lies. I’d been home for about thirteen. “I’ve barely gotten used to Damian being taller than me, let alone a month older than me. I'm not ready to date anyone yet. It’s just a false rumor. The photographer asked if he could get a picture of us smiling so I told Damian a joke.”

“I see. So are you recovering alright?”

“I think so. Bruce is still Batman’s financial backer so he asked Batman to have couple superhero friends look me over. No lasting damage. But, apparently, time travel is really hard on the body. Which is probably why I slept almost my entire first day back. I was so tired. And being here now… It’s… it’s so weird.” I shrugged. “I feel like I'm in a movie. Like I'm going to wake up and Damian’s going to be thirteen again throwing my door open and telling me that I need to stop Dick from burning down the kitchen again. Like I'm just… I don’t know. Out of place, maybe? Definitely displaced from time.”

I considered tearing up for dramatic effect, but decided against it.

“I’d imagine,” Vicki commented. She crossed her legs and sighed in thought. “So now that you’re back, do you have any plans?”

“I haven’t come up with anything so far. I’ve barely thought about what I want to do. Maybe I’ll finish up my degree. I was so close to having it. I had a year left. Though, I don’t know if I’ll start this coming semester. Maybe I’ll wait for January.”

“Definitely something to think about.”

“Yeah. I might try and reconnect with old friends too. I know now they’re around twenty-nine while I'm still twenty-one and a lot has probably changed but… I’m eager to see how their lives have turned out. One friend in particular and I both had problems dating. I’ve been wondering if she ever found someone.”

“Well, I wish you the best of luck with that,” Vicki offered.

“Thank you.”

She turned. “Damian, would you care to join us? We can pull up another chair,” she said. “If you have any thoughts to voice about Miss McCloud coming back.”

Damian’s eyes flicked from Vicki to me, twitching an eyebrow in a silent question: asking what I thought he should do. I shrugged and glanced at the space next to me, indicating I wouldn’t mind if he sat next to me. He looked back at Vicki. “Alright,” he relented.

A crewmember working one of the lights for the interview grabbed another chair and pulled it next to me. Damian ducked under a light that was facing backwards into a silver-foil-lined umbrella—pretty standard for interview lighting—and sat in the chair next to me. Someone handed him a mic that he clipped to his shirt. He patted my knee and then folded his arms.

I was dressed for an interview—blouse and trousers with makeup on and my hair styled nicely—but Damian wasn’t. He had on dark jeans and a Van Gogh’s Starry Night T-shirt with Converse and a leather jacket. He had no interview makeup on so his skin wouldn’t be shiny in the intense light and his hair wasn’t quite as perfectly gelled out of the way as it usually was. And even with all that, he still looked a picture of confidence. He was the king of the room and he knew it.

I bit my lip a little and smiled at him before we both turned our attention back to Vicki. She gave Damian a million-watt smile that could have blinded me but was so falsely positive it almost made me nauseous.

“So, Damian, what’s it like having her back?” she asked.

Damian glanced at me. I met his gaze, eyebrows raised expectantly. “And be honest,” I added.

The left corner of Damian’s mouth quirked into a half-smile. He looked back to Vicki. “It’s been… someone else might call it a ‘blessing.’ When I was thirteen and she disappeared, the whole family was rather distraught. McCl—Nora really has always been a light in our home. Full of warmth and compassion. If anyone was having a bad day she’d always be there with a hug and healing words. She was even there for me. I was a little snot of a teenager but she always tried to make sure I knew someone cared about what happened to me and how I was feeling.” He glanced back at me. “You were kind of our family’s guardian angel, weren’t you?”

I snorted. “I wouldn’t go that far. When Bruce took me in, I was grieving the loss of my parents and in a lot of emotional pain. Sometimes the best way to heal yourself is to help other people,” I said. I patted his knee and looked back to Vicki. “I found another family with the Waynes and I'm grateful for it. Even if now the dynamic has been thrown for a loop.”

“True. I don’t know how to deal with her suddenly being the youngest. She was always the older and wiser,” Damian added, nudging me in the arm with his shoulder. The only time he talked like a normal person and didn’t tut every couple sentences was during press interviews.

Vicki chuckled. “So I'm guessing you’re still glad she’s back?”

“The whole family is ecstatic,” Damian said, almost dodging. “But of course I'm glad. Gotham is a dark place and it’s nice to have a little light back in it.”

“Aw. Thanks Damian,” I said, bumping his knee with mine.

“Now, Miss McCloud, you mentioned the loss of your parents. Do you intend to take your parents’ company back?”

I took a deep breath and huffed a sigh. “I think so,” I said. “I want to finish my degree, but I also want to do right by what my parents built and I want to make them proud. And I don’t see why I can’t run a company and finish my degree at the same time. It might take me longer but I could do it.”

“Of course you could,” Vicki agreed. “Did anyone tell you about the hack that leaked user information and a lot of… sensitive emails?” Translation: Do you know that a lot of people think your parents’ best friend and business advisor had an affair with your dad?

“No one told me, but I found it when I looked up how the company had been doing. Such a shame, really. My parents really wanted to make information leaks a thing of the past,” I said. Yeah I know but I'm better at this game than you and I'm not going to bring it up in this setting unless you do. “Hopefully I can accomplish that goal.”

“Wouldn’t that be nice?” Vicki looked back down at her notes. “Well, that’s all I have for you guys. If there’s anything more you’d like to say, now would be the time.”

“I’d like to say thank you for this,” I said. “There’s been a lot of rumors going around since I came back and all, and I think this is a really nice way to clear the air a little. Honestly it doesn’t feel like it’s been very long since I did one of these and yet everything has changed.”

“Except you,” Damian added. “You haven’t changed.”

I laughed. “Fair point,” I conceded.

Damian looked at Vicki. “I’ve said all I can say,” he said.

“Well then, thank you both for this, and I hope you have a lovely day.”

“Thank you, Ms. Vale,” I said, shaking her hand.

“No, thank you, Miss McCloud.”

#All My Fault #Chapter 16 #All My Fault Chapter 16 #Damian Wayne #Damian Wayne Imagine #Damian Wayne FanFiction #Robin #Robin Imagine #Robin FanFiction #Batman #Batman Imagine #Batman FanFiction #DC #DC Imagine #DC FanFiction #BatFam #BatFam Imagine #BatFam FanFiction

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olixerwoood-blog · 8 years ago

Text

Christmas Miracle

Request: Imagine with George Weasley! when the reader sneaking out with him on Christmas Holidays while they are staying at Hogwarts, they are spending whole night together, giving each other smol cute gifts and running away from Flinch (I knooow that Christmas are so far away but I’m reading Philosopher’s Stone and I have those vibes you know 😂). @bluegreyme

Word Count: 2557

Author’s note: TYSM for this request! It now has me in those Christmas feels. Imagine Christmas at Hogwarts xD. It would be soooo much fun to explore an empty castle. I loved writing this, and I hope you love it as well!

Christmas was her favorite season of the year. It has been ever since she was a little girl. The holiday songs, decorations, food, presents, and most importantly snow always filled her heart with warmth during the cold holiday. She had already packed everything up to go home for the holidays, but that was before her Barn Owl came through the dorm window with a letter from her parents stating that they wouldn’t be able to celebrate at home for the Winter holidays. Her parents both had to work throughout the break, and would rather Y/n stay at Hogwarts than be alone.

Now, instead of drinking eggnog and eating sugar cookies by the fire she was forced to spend her holidays at Hogwarts without her usual holiday traditions. Staying at Hogwarts still had it’s perks; The House elves still cooked some amazing food for the few students who did stay, and since the halls were empty it was much easier to explore the castle than usual. However, none of those thoughts were able to put her back in her usual jolly holiday spirit.

She sighed into her palm that was resting against her chin as she pushed around some food on her plate not really having much of an appetite anymore. She was just about to get up to head back to the y/h common room before two identical red-heads sat down on either side of her.

“Y/n, love why the long face? It’s the holidays!” Fred exclaimed while he plopped himself down right beside her with his elbows rested against the table.

George smiled as he rested a hand on the girl’s shoulder, “No one should have a frown on the holidays. Especially not while at Hogwarts over the holidays. I mean have you ever stayed here before? It’s like a haven for us with no one here.”

“Yeah,” started Fred again, “we are able to prank Filch a lot more over the holidays, and the best part-” they both smiled at you before saying in unison, “no classes!”

Y/n’s frown turned up only a little as she whined back, “Look, I appreciate you guys trying to cheer me up right now, but I love Christmas. It’s my favorite time of the year, and now since I can’t participate in my usual holiday traditions...It just doesn’t feel like Christmas.” She pushed her plate away, crossed her arms, and laid her head down on the table. She knew she was acting like a brat, but this was the first year ever that she had to spend Christmas entirely away from home. She only stayed in that position for a second before she abruptly stood up and began to walk away.

Y/n walked only a few feet before she turned back around to address the two again, “I’m sorry, I just really want to be alone with my thoughts so I can fully take in the fact that this really just isn’t Christmas this year. I know I’m a brat just- I’m sorry.” She turned and walked off without a reply from either Weasley twin.

Fred looked at the girl with his face squished together before stating, “geez, I guess that’s what we get for trying to cheer up someone.” He spun around in his seat so he faced the table properly before dishing out some food on a plate.

George however, never took his eyes off the frustrated girl. Instead his mind began to brainstorm of ways to put the cheerful holiday spirit back into Y/n.

Y/n finally emerged from her bedroom at 11 am the next day. She still had no motivation to do anything, and considering it was Christmas Eve today she really just wanted to sleep the entire day away. However, she couldn’t ignore the grumbling in her stomach any longer. She emerged from the y/h common room door to a surprise, George Weasley was sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, head looking up towards the ceiling.

“George? What are you doing?” She giggled when the boy jumped from the sudden noise breaking the silence he had been sitting in for quite awhile.

“Bloody hell, don’t scare me like that Y/n.” He pushed himself up off the wall and walk towards her with the corners of his mouth almost touching his ears, “Well, I know how bummed out you’ve been as of late, and I just wanted to spend the day with you to show you how much fun you can still have at Hogwarts.”

Y/n’s small smile turned back into a frown before she answered, “That’s very kind of you George, but honestly I really was just going to grab some food and go back to bed.” She tried to walk around him, but George grabbed her arm before she could get too far away.

“Please, just let me try Y/n. If you’re not happy by this evening then I’ll leave you alone the rest of break. Deal?” He stuck out his hand offering it to the girl. Y/n moved her right hand forward and connected them together before shaking it up and down.

“Deal.”

“Okay so tell me why this is going to be so funny?” Y/n and George just came back inside the castle from making some snowballs and were now about to attempt to charm them to hit the back of Filch’s head. “Wait, haven’t you done this before?”

“Well, technically yes, but never to Filch. I just feel like it will be twice as funny, because Filch acts like a moron sometimes. Just watch.” They were both hiding behind a curtain that acted as a secret hallway passage. Filch was just starting to walk by when George bewitched a snowball to follow and eventually collide with the back of Filch’s head.

Y/n bit back a laugh as Filch began to turn around frantically searching for whoever just hit him in the head with the ball of snow. Filch walked in circles like a puppy chasing his tail before looking up at the ceiling, and then at Ms. Norris who only purred at the side of his feet.

Filch shrugged his shoulders and began to walk again before another snowball collided with the back of his head once again. This time Filch let out a gruff, “Who’s there?!” He yelled back down the hall only to be greeted with complete silence. He looked up and spun around again before screaming, “Peeves I swear if that’s you I’ll go to Dumbledore and have you thrown out!” He raised his fist in the air while spinning around looking up at the ceiling again in all directions.

“Man he really is a complete git.” George whispered with a small chuckle leaving his lips. He looked over at the smiling girl who was now turning red from trying to hold in her laughter. “Do you want to try Y/n?”

“What? Oh I don’t know George. Pranks aren’t usually my area of expertise.” She shrugged and looked back towards Filch trying to contain her laughter as Filch began to ask the pictures around him if they saw anything.

“Oh Y/n come on this is newbie stuff. Ron could even do this. Come on now.” He placed a snowball in her hand before turning back to look at Filch from the crack in the curtain. Y/n took a deep breath and casted the spell leading it out of the curtain and towards Filch. However, she hadn’t been paying attention to the direction Filch was just facing.

“Y/n no wait!” George whispered yelled, but it was too late. The snowball emerged from behind the curtain and was hurtling towards Filch hitting him square in his nose. Filch was taken aback by the sudden feeling of the snowball colliding with his face, but he recovered in an instant hurtling himself towards the curtain on the wall.

“Run!” George grabbed Y/n’s hand and began to drag her in the other direction towards the curtain at the other end of the hallway. Y/n’s heart began to race from the adrenaline of possibly getting caught, and soon her feet began to run on their own. Once they got to the opposite end of the hallway George threw open the curtain and dashed off to the left towards the staircases.

“Wait you two! Come back here!” Filch’s screams were getting closer and soon he would catch them.

“George, please tell me that you have some kind of plan?” Y/n’s panic becoming evident in her voice as they ran down the stairs and towards the Hufflepuff common room.

“Well, this isn’t really when I wanted to start my next activity, but just follow me.” George threw open a door Y/n never really paid much attention to before and hurtled herself inside while George was holding it open. After Y/n was safely inside he threw himself in closing the door as he went.

“Master Weasley, it’s so very good to see you again!” Y/n jumped and turned around at the sound of a squeaky little voice coming from behind her.

“Dobby, it’s good to see you as well, have you ever met Y/n Y/l/n before?” George nodded in Y/n’s direction while the house elf’s smile grew even bigger.

“Oh, Dobby is so very happy to make new friends. Especially ones of master Weasley’s!” Dobby stepped forward and Y/n held out her hand towards the elf so he could shake it.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too Dobby. Might I ask where exactly are we?” she began to look around before she noticed all the cooking wares around the great room.

“Well, you be standing in the kitchens of Hogwarts! Master Y/l/n. It’s where we elves prepare the meals.” Dobby looked up happily towards her before grabbing her hand and pulling her further into the room.

“Say, Dobby, do you mind if me and Y/n use the kitchen for a bit? Then later can we take some snacks?”

“Oh, certainly! Master Weasley, and Y/l/n are always welcome here.” Dobby stated before bowing and walking away towards the other house elves who just look a little disgruntled to see them there.

“Come on, Y/n let’s make some cookies.” George walked over to one of the stoves and turned it on before grabbing some of the ingredients they would need.

Y/n only stood in her place with a small smile beginning to form on her lips, she coughed and then hid the smile before replying, “No, George you move aside. I only like them a certain way, and you’ll just ruin them I’m sure.”

“Kinda like how you ruined the prank and almost got us caught?”

“Oh- shut up Weasley.”

The two had joked around in the kitchen all afternoon. Preparing the cookies put Y/n back into her usual happy self, and now the two were sitting by the fire in the y/h common room munching on the sugar cookies they had just prepared in the kitchen. The two had been talking in the common room for hours, and it was getting really late into the night, but neither showed signs of tiredness, not yet anyway.

“Okay, so tell me why are you so upset about spending the holiday here?” George sipped some of the cocoa they had stolen from the kitchen and looked deep into her y/c/e eyes.

“Okay, well I told you yesterday George I always have these holiday traditions with my family. They usually consist of; baking about a dozen sugar cookies, decorating the Christmas tree while listening and dancing to holiday music, exchanging goofy gifts on Christmas eve night, and playing in the snow Christmas morning. That’s just to name a few though because we have so many that we do as a family, and it’s just my favorite time of the year, because we are truly all together during this time. It’s always made me so happy to have me and my parents goofing around like that. However, this year I just feel like they wanted to celebrate without me.” Y/n adverted her eyes from George’s and took another small bite out of her cookie.

“Oh that’s rubbish and you know it. Your parents would be more than happy to see you on Christmas! It’s not your fault that they got caught up working. You really shouldn’t be so hard on yourself you know.” He leaned forward and slowly put his arm around the girl and she leaned her head against his shoulder with a sigh.

“Thank you George, I know that they would have me at home if they could and I know I’m being a brat about it all. I just can’t help it because I really just wish everything would slow down. I feel like I’m growing up too quickly and I don’t want those little traditions to end you know?” Y/n picked her head up from his shoulder to look into his eyes. A small blush grew on her face as she gazed and took in all his handsome features. The light of the fire was illuminating his face so his eyes sparkled, his nose had a hint of red to it, and his hair was perfectly cascading over his eyebrows. He looked so dreamy right then.

“Well, new traditions can always be made you know?” George turned his face to look directly at the girl, his face leaning in towards hers as he finished, “I don’t know about you, but I liked the little traditions we made today.”

Y/n gasped as she slowly leaned up towards his red lips as she licked her own wetting them, “me too.” she whispered before their lips softly touched.

Soon, George’s hand went to the back of Y/n’s neck bringing her face closer to his as he pushed his tongue through his mouth attempting to gain access to the inside of hers. Y/n eagerly gave him access as she slowly laid back against the armrest of the couch, George following her every movement gradually moving on top of her.

Their tongues danced on the inside of each other’s mouths as Y/n ran her hands underneath his shirt feeling his abs on her fingertips before slowly moving their way to his back. George received shivers at the sudden feeling of her warm fingertips grazing along his back. He had wanted to kiss her for so long, and this was quite possibly the best present he ever received.

All too soon though the kiss was broken by Y/n who had desperately needed to come up for air, “That is certainly one tradition I hope sticks around.” She giggled between breaths as George shifted his body to lie parallel with the back of the couch wrapping his arms around the girl in the process. Y/n shifted her body so that her back was pressed against George’s front side, so she could be his little spoon.

“I will make sure that this tradition sticks from here on out.” He laughed and kissed the back of her neck before nestling into her hair. The two where just about asleep before Y/n finally noticed it was well past midnight. She tapped his hand lightly gaining a small “hmph” from him in response.

“George, Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas love.” George whispered back before the two fell asleep next to the dying fire on the couch on the best Christmas Eve night she ever had.

#George weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley imagines #olixerwoood #harry potter #harry potter imagines #fred weasley #fred weasley imagines #fanfic #reader inserts #weasley twins #weasley twin trash #christmas fanfic #hogwarts #hufflepuff #slytherin #ravenclaw #gryffindor

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