#felt a lot of feels and can’t wait to see what Cass does next and reread the whole thing start to end.

[warriorofdragons]

His Soothing Sweetheart

Word Count: 990

Warnings: Nightmares

Cole wakes with a jolt and picking his head up he looks down at his sleeping partner. He quickly removes his arm from around her waist and looks her over for a moment. When she doesn’t stir he exhales and shifts to his side of the bed. Cole then swings his legs over the edge of the mattress and buries his hands in his hair. He sniffles as he rubs his face. “Cass?” she calls softly. Cole picks his head up at the sound of her voice. He can already hear the blankets shifting as she scooches closer to him. “Baby, are you okay?” she asks sleepily. He glances over his shoulder at her finally, “Yeah, Sweetheart, go back to sleep, I’ll be fine.” She frowns and cautiously continues towards him. He should have known that wouldn’t have satisfied her. She wraps an arm around his waist and places her right hand on his right shoulder as she then rests her chin on top of his shoulder. Cole can’t help but smile, “I just had a bad dream is all,” he sighs. She responds by kissing his shoulder. It’s quiet for a moment between them and she rubs her hand down his arm soothingly. “Do you wanna talk about it?” she asks quietly. “Not particularly,” Cole answers. She nods and wraps both of her hands around his right arm and begins tracing patterns on his skin, Cole smiles again. “I think I might stay up for a while…I don’t…I don’t want you to worry about me. You should get some sleep, Darlin’.” She scoffs, “You and I both know that’s not gonna happen.” Cole exhales, “I suppose you’re right,” the smile surely apparent in his voice even in the dark. If the roles were reversed, and they have been at times for her, he wouldn’t be able to sleep a wink until she felt safe and was sound asleep in his arms. She rubs her cheek against his shoulder some more, “Do you want to watch a movie?” Cole raises his brows and looks down at her beside him, “Uh…yeah, I…I’d like that, Pumpkin.” She kisses his shoulder again and then leans up and kisses his cheek. Cole gets out of bed and stretches his back. His girlfriend flicks on her bedside lamp and searches for a sweater to cover her nightgown. Cole waits for her to take his hand before heading out to the living room.

Despite him trying to put on a brave face, he feels a lot better about wandering their home at night with her beside him. He turns on the tv and the glow from the tv screen illuminates the room. “What did you want to watch?” he asks. “I was thinking an animated movie,” she says. “Huh, that sounds good to me,” he says. Cole had thought she was going to put on one of his favorite westerns, but an animated movie with a lighthearted tone and fun songs sounds pretty good right about now. He grabs the blanket on the couch and gets settled while she uses the remote to search for something and after she hits play, she sets the remote back down on the coffee table. When she moves to join him on the couch, Cole takes her hands and tugs her on top of him. She giggles causing him to chuckle as she shifts to a comfortable position on top of him. He covers her in the blanket and kisses her forehead. She then yawns as he wraps his arms around her and he’s not certain how long she’ll manage to stay awake. The movie turns out to be a very good idea, because Cole manages to laugh and smile a little the further into the movie he gets, and it lightens his heart and eases his mind of the horrors in his sleep. But when he makes a joke about one of the characters, he realizes that his girlfriend has fallen asleep on his chest. He smiles as he looks down at her and smoothes down her hair, her chest gently rising and falling. Cole turns the volume down a little on the tv and only a few minutes later does he feel his own eyelids growing heavy.

He wakes the next morning to the smell of food and dishes clinking, Cole opens his eyes and looks down to see his girlfriend gone. He then looks around the rest of the room and can see that the tv has been turned off and that there’s light streaming in through the windows from behind the curtains. Cole gets up and stretches his arms up over his head and then heads for the kitchen. There he finds his girlfriend with her back to him cooking on the stove. He steps towards her and places his hands on her arms. She startles a little and then looks up at him and relaxes. “Mornin’, Baby, whatcha got there?” he asks leaning in to kiss her cheek. She bites her lip and smiles as her hand comes up to caress his face, “Morning, Pumpkin, I was just making Jack’s recipe for flapjacks.” Cole smiles and looks down at the skillet and then over at the plate that’s already full of them. He kisses her cheek again, “You really went all out for breakfast this morning,” he says when he also notices the bacon and eggs plated on the table. “Well, you had a bad dream last night, and I’m not sure how long you slept so I wanted to make sure you had a good morning,” she explains. Cole feels his chest tighten and he takes the spatula from her hands and turns her around and kisses her, “I am so lucky to have you, you know that?” he whispers against her lips. She hums, “I could stand to be reminded.” Cole smiles and kisses her again.

[camsthisky]

"you’re not alone . you’re stuck with me forever . sorry . ” + Jason and Dick (and anyone other family member)?

“Everyone okay?” Dick croaks as the dust and rubble settles around them. He’s lying on his back, kept still by something pinning his legs down. He doesn’t dare assess himself quite yet. “Hood? Batgirl?”

“Okay,” Cass says, and Dick watches as she stumbles over to him, looking dusty, but relatively alright. She kneels next to him with a frown. She meets his eyes—well, relatively since they’re both wearing masks—and asks, “Okay?”

Dick grimaces. “Not really.” Louder, he calls, “Red Hood?!”

“Here, here,” Jason says, coughing into his fist. He’s missing his helmet and there’s a gash sluggishly bleeding from his right cheek, smearing a trail of blood down his face. He’s also limping, but only slightly.

“Can you move?” Cass asks Dick as Jason pulls out his flashlight.

Dick winces at the sudden light, his mask having already automatically switched to night vision. He huffs. “Jay. Off.”

“Names.”

Dick scowls. “The light.”

“Deal with it,” Jason snaps. “My night vision isn’t working.”

Dick turns off his own night vision feature, if only to not be blinded by the damn flashlight if it passes over his eyes again.

That’s when Jason’s flashlight lands on where Dick is pinned.

“Crap,” Jason breathes.

“Can you move them?” Cass asks, sounding a touch more impatient, and Dick realizes that Cass has already asked once. “Your legs.”

“No,” says Dick, just barely trying. He’s tired, but he knows that time is up. He can’t get away with ignoring his own situation any longer. Probably shouldn’t have even waited this long. His legs are tingling from lack of blood flow, mixing with a sharp pain shooting through them both. Still he’s lucky, because—“I can still feel them, though.”

“We’ll lift,” Jason says to Cass, who nods. Dick closes his eyes and braces himself for the inevitable pain of rubble being lifted off his crushed legs.

“Hhh.”

The sounds he makes is nothing more than an agonized hissed through his teeth, and Dick can’t help the cold sweat that sweeps across his body in a slow wave as his siblings manage to move the slab of—wall, maybe? who knows, really—from where it’s crushing his poor legs.

Something taps against his shinbone and then his kneecap.

“Stop, stop, I feel it,” Dick gasps, bringing his legs up in a protective curl as pain throbs through most of his lower body. His left hip hurts like hell, and his every muscle, bone, and tendon feels like they’ve been squeezed and then flattened like a pancake. He rolls over onto his side so he can bring his knees up to his chest, to wait out the lingering intensity of the pain.

“Breathe,” Cass says.

Dick breathes.

He closes his eyes and blocks out everything and, again, just breathes. His siblings let him.

When he has a better grasp on his agony, Dick finally relaxes. The world filters back in. Cass is running fingers through Dick’s dusty hair (something she one hundred percent learned from Bruce, because only a select few know how much the motion tends to calm him down).

On the other hand, Dick blinks his eyes open to find Jason agitatedly pacing.

“The hell?” Jason murmurs, his flashlight whipping back and forth with his movements as he surveys their surroundings. “Did we get completely sealed in?”

Dick wishes desperately he would stop. Even without night vision, Jason’s impromptu strobe light effect is causing Dick’s head to ache. Instead of saying this, he hums contemplatively. “Wonder if there’s a signal this far down.”

Jason huffs, not slowing in the least. He’s searching for something, and dear god does Dick want him to find it already. “You’re the one with the comms in your ear. You try it.”

They’re in the sewers, is the thing. And while Bruce and Babs have designed the comms system to work incredibly well, even in the sewers, the signal still needs to be able to make it to the system in order to be functional.

With the three of them sealed in this place, seemingly with no way out, pretty deep in the sewer system where they had been disabling bombs throughout the city, Dick isn’t optimistic about their chances of getting a signal.

(They’d just been a few seconds too late for that last bomb, which unfortunately led them to their current circumstances.)

While Jason grumbles, Cass activates her emergency signal and the comms. She calls out, “Batman? Oracle?”

Jason shuts up for the five seconds before Cass looks between both Dick and Jason and shakes her head.

Dick lets out a slow exhale through his nose. He hadn’t really held out much hope for that anyways.

Jason groans. “Holy batcannoli, I can’t believe we’re stuck down here. And where’s my hecking helmet?!”

Cass helpfully points to the rubble sealing them in. Jason kicks a rock with a yell. Dick sighs.

“Well, at least you’re not alone down here,” Dick says as optimistically as he can—although, given the circumstances, it does fall a little flat.

Jason snorts. “Right. Sure, Batgirl is an asset, but you’re a sack of bruised bones right now. That’s not helpful in the slightest, Dickface.”

Dick’s eyelashes flutter of their own accord. He hums. “Too bad. Looks like you’re stuck with me. Sorry.”

“Dick,” Cass says, her fingers tracing lightly over his face. “Stay awake.”

“I am awake.”

“You’re starting to—” Cass pauses. Dick can’t see the look on her face, because somehow, his eyes have fully closed without his permission, and he can’t seem to find the strength to open them again. “—to slur.”

The sounds of Jason’s pacing stop. Silence rings loud in their sealed section of the sewers. Then, “Did he hit his head?”

“Not sure,” Cass answers.

“Dick,” Jason says, sounding quite a bit closer, like he’s maybe crouching down next to Cass or something—but Dick hadn’t heard him move, and Jason’s boots are too clunky to not make sound against the concrete. “Dick, did you hit your head?”

Dick’s eyebrows furrow, but he doesn’t open his eyes. He doesn’t remember hitting his head. The only thing he clearly remembers about the blast is heavy pieces of rubble crushing his legs. “Maybe?”

“Great,” Jason says. He’s pulling out his I’m-rolling-my-eyes-at-your-ridiculous-incompetency voice. “So my bruised bones of a big brother probably also has a concussion. Just great.”

“It’s not his fault he’s injured,” Cass tells Jason. “He was disarming the bomb.”

Which means Dick took the brunt of the blast when it was remotely activated.

Dick really means to tack onto Cass’s statement, maybe tease Jason a little and try to reassure both his younger siblings that not everything is hopeless, because he’s the best big brother ever, of course.

Only, he can’t find the strength to open his mouth and talk. Instead, the voices around him become watery, distorted, and Dick’s head flares in pain.

When unconsciousness comes to take him, he doesn’t resist.

—

“—manage to even find us in the first place?” is the first thing Dick hears as he swims back to consciousness. Jason almost sounds relieved.

“The seismic device didn’t just affect the sewers,” someone replies. It takes a lot of effort for Dick to recognize it as Tim. “A couple buildings partially collapsed, and since we knew the three of you were down here, it was a good starting point to look when none of you would answer the comms.”

“Huh,” is all Jason says.

“Nightwing,” Bruce says, startling Dick from the dazed lull he’d been in as he listened to his brothers talking. He opens his eyes, blinking up bewilderingly at what he can see of Bruce’s face behind the cowl.

“B?” Dick murmurs. He doesn’t move, yet, from where’s curled on his side, but he feels an abortive twitch of his fingers at the reassuring sight of Batman. “‘S goin’ on?”

“What do you remember?”

Right. Bruce did not give easy answers. Life is a series of puzzles, Dick Grayson, fueled by none other than Bruce Wayne himself.

Dick frowns and casts his mind back. “The wall blew up,” he decides. “I got hurt?”

He’s only half sure about that last one, but considering his position on the ground, the throbbing in his head and hip, and Bruce’s concerned dad frown that’s taking over his Batman grimace, Dick thinks that he’s probably on the right track.

“Concussion,” Cass says, startling Dick when she pops her head over Bruce’s shoulder. “Also, ‘a sack of bruised bones.’”

That—sounds familiar. He thinks he remembers Jason saying something like that.

Bruce’s frown gets deeper. “Straighten your legs.”

“Please,” Dick tacks on for Bruce when he lacks the manners to be nice, basically on instinct at this point, even as he—slowly, and with a great deal of agony—does what Bruce tells him to do.

They go through a couple more tests, until finally Bruce, unhappy, deems, “We need to move you.”

Dick blinks when Bruce turns away to murmur something to one of the others. A conversation washes over him, and Dick can’t help but let himself tune it out. The noise settles as vague humming—indistinct and comforting.

“—two, three,” Bruce says as Dick’s entire vision goes white.

He only manages to come back to himself in increments.

There are arms holding him tight. Familiar murmurs in his ear. The comforting sound of Batman’s heavy cape brushing against concrete.

“—there, Chum,” Bruce is saying, and if Dick had the capability, he would have teased Bruce for pulling out both the concerned dad frown and the concerned dad voice in one night.

As it is, the only thing that comes out of his mouth when he opens it are harsh pants for air. Every step jostles him, and agony is his constant companion throughout the entire journey to the surface.

Somehow, Dick is still conscious when he’s laid down in the backseat of the batmobile. He’s grateful he’s not moving anymore, and carefully doesn’t think of the upcoming ride back to the Cave.

He only really starts to relax when Bruce settles the cape over him. Wrapped up inside it, Dick almost feels like he’s ten years old again. Batman’s has always felt like warmth and protection and home. This time is no different.

“Batgirl and Robin, keep Nightwing as still as possible. Red Hood, in the front. Start updating Oracle.”

“Why do they—”

“You’re too bulky, Hood. Me and Batgirl are smaller than you. It’s still going to be a tight fit, but it’s the most comfortable for everyone this way.”

“Whatever.”

“Enough. Car. Now.”

There’s lots of careful but hurried scrambling. Dick thinks he passes out a few times on the way back. He doesn’t remember much, either. Just bits and snatches here and there—His siblings talking to him, Bruce giving orders, Jason being snappy and unwittingly dragging Tim into an argument.

And then—he wakes up. A lot more clear-headed than he’d felt the last time he’d been conscious (though, that wasn’t saying much).

To Dick’s surprise, he’s on his side again, dressed in sweats with a pillow between his legs. He opens his eyes to the Wayne Manor living room, and—yes, he’s on the couch. The curtains are drawn, but it’s clearly sometime past sunrise.

Bruce is sitting cross-legged in front of him, reading a book.

“Bruce?” Dick calls, his voice still somewhat slurred. “Why’m I on the couch?”

“You started crying when I said you had to stay in the infirmary,” Bruce tells him, grabbing a bookmark and setting his book off to the side.

Dick frowns. He doesn’t remember that. Still, he manages to say, “You’re such a pushover.”

“How do you feel?”

Dick blinks a dozen times in a row, trying to assess his body and keep up with the change in subject. “Kinda woozy. My hip hurts a lot.”

“Hn.”

“Think I need to brush up on my Bat speak,” Dick murmurs. “Dunno what that one meant.”

Bruce hums again. “You’re incredibly lucky. We’ll need to be careful for the next few weeks.”

“What’s the diagnosis, doc?”

“Crush injuries to your legs and left hip. Not overly severe, and we managed to stabilize you once we realized you were in shock.”

Dick thinks about that for a second. “Concussion? I’m pretty sure I remember something about a concussion.”

“It’s mild,” Bruce tells him. “It was the shock that was the real problem.”

“Oh.” Dick sighs into the pillow under his head. “I’m tired.”

Bruce gives him a soft smile, just slight enough that if Dick hadn’t been so familiar with Bruce’s microexpressions, he would have thought he’d been mistaken. Fingers lightly card through his hair, and Dick’s eyes start closing of their own accord.

“Then sleep,” Bruce says.

Dick sleeps.

[verymuchimmortalcat]

Familiarity

For Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month Day 3: Identities

ao3

@maribat-bdbwm

part 1

Marinette couldn’t quite put a finger on it but there was something about the Waynes that felt familiar. Rose would say it’s because they’re family but Marinette knows it not that. In fact, they remind her of the Bats. The simultaneous inclusion and exclusion, the chaos, the feeling of knowing them, everything.

She isn’t quite sure yet if she likes the idea of her family being the Bats but she does know it would explain a lot of things that have happened in the two days since she arrived at the Manor for the first time.

.oOo.

Steph watches as Tim and Marinette plan out pranks, it’s creepy how well the two of them work together. It’s almost like they’ve worked together before. From the way Cass is analysing Marinette, Steph knows she’s picked up on the strangeness of it all too.

Duke had told her they’d asked Marinette to join so they could get to know her better and to spite B, who had told them not to drag her into their chaos. They hadn’t really expected her to be so good at planning pranks. From what she’s learnt she was brought up as an only child. Not that it really matters, they’re going against Babs, they’re going to need all the help possible.

Duke looks thoroughly lost, Steph doesn’t blame him, Tim’s thought process is hard to follow normally but Marinette and Tim, Steph’s just as lost. As the three of them stare at the two of them in the middle of their planning, Steph can’t help but feel they’ve been here before. Which makes absolutely no sense she’s never even met Marinette before today.

.oOo.

His sister’s time has been monopolised by Drake, Cassandra, Duke and now Stephanie. Planning, probably. A pointless endeavour, he's going to win in the end, just because his team has lesser people doesn’t mean they’re going to lose.

However, he has spoken to her. She’d approached him the first day and while their conversation had been awkward and stinted, it had been a conversation. Damian wasn’t planning on telling Grayson but speaking to him had helped.

But what’s been bothering Damian is that it feels like they’ve had that conversation before. Which they haven’t, Damian’s sure he’d remember if they’d somehow met. Jon says he should talk to her but Damian’s sure he can figure it out on his own.

.oOo.

Tim has a theory: Marinette is Ladybug. He doesn’t bring it up with the others, if she had wanted them to know her identity, she would have told them herself a long time ago. Besides, it’s just a theory and even if he is right, he remembers the feeling of betrayal when B had told Steph his identity, so he doesn’t pry.

.oOo.

Cass knows Marinette. She’s not able to place it and it makes absolutely no sense, but there’s something very familiar about her. For someone who walks into objects at least three times a day she carries herself with a grace that Cass hasn’t seen outside vigilantes or dancers and Marinette denies being able to dance. Even if her new sibling is one of the Parisian heroes, Cass doesn’t know the Parisian heroes very well, having met them only a few times. Their training had mostly been taken care by Dick, Tim and Damian, since the three of them spent the most time at the Tower. She leaves it alone, Tim mentioned that the miraculous holders' identities were protected by magic, it would be impossible for her to figure it out.

.oOo.

Dick had wanted to see if he had left his phone in the gymnasium, when he enters the room, Marinette’s there. He watches in shock as Marinette leaps and flips her way through the gymnasium. She’s a surprisingly good gymnast for a civilian. A lot of the moves she uses are familiar to him. Things that he had taught to some of the younger heroes as fighting sequences. He wonders what kind of teacher she must have had to be taught that.

When she finishes, he claps and she turns back in shock, her eyes widen in recognition and she becomes a vivid shade of red. He holds back the urge to laugh.

“That was amazing! Where did you learn all of that?”

“Oh, uh here and there, I went to classes for a while and I have a friend who’s really great at gymnastics.”

Dick frowns, she sounds unsure of her answer, but he lets it pass.

“I’d love to meet that friend of yours.”

She looks like a deer caught in headlights for a second before her expression smooths over and she grins at him and says, “I’ll be sure to ask him!” before skipping out of the room.

Dick is officially very curious.

.oOo.

Thursday morning, she’s informed by Duke that they usually have family dinners on Thursday and a few of Tim’s friends would be attending today too. Marinette’s excited, it’ll be fun to meet Tim’s friends.

Alfred’s banned all pranks for the day since they have guests visiting in the evening. There’s some complaining but in the end they all give in. Tim heads to his room saying he has something he wants to work on, Dick and Damian are going out for the day, she can’t find Duke, and Jason isn’t at the Manor. She’s currently searching for Cass. When Marinette finally gives up and returns to her room, she finds Cass waiting for her there.

“Want to join me and Steph? We’re going out.”

Marinette agrees and the two of them leave the manor to join Steph in the actual city. They spend the day roaming around, eat enough junk food to give Alfred a heart attack and just pass time. Steph returns with them to the Manor in the evening for dinner. They’re late but only by a bit, they’d hopefully only get a disappointed frown from Alfred.

Alfred lets them in with a sigh of disappointment. The three of them offer him sheepish grins before running off to the dining room. They can hear all of them laughing, Marinette doesn’t pause to analyse their voices.

She wishes she had.

It’s not surprising really, she’d already known how highly possible it was but nothing had prepared her to be staring at Kon, Cassie and Bart.

Jason notices her staring and asks, “why’re you looking at them like they’re aliens?”

She takes another second to finish processing, and then grins, “Well, Kon is half alien.”

Their reactions are priceless. Plagg would be proud of the chaos she’s unleashed.

Jason’s staring at her in shock. Tim’s yelling, “I KNEW IT!” Dick and Cass look like things make more sense now. B, Steph, Duke, Kon and Cassie. Damian’s jumped onto his seat and is pointing his katana at her. Bart had attacked her in a hug, yelling, “Bug!” which had thrown her to the floor.

Groaning she gets up, “not wearing a super suit right now, Bart.”

“IforgotI’msosorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Oh my, what is going on here?”

They all turn to look at Alfred who’s standing at the entrance.

There’s a lot of apologies as they sit in their seats and everyone settles down. She ends up sitting next to her father.

“So,” he starts, “you’re Ladybug.”

She smiles, “and you’re Batman.”

Before she can reply, she’s dragged into the others’ conversation. Her father offers her a smile and returns to his food. Marinette grins and joins the argument about the stupidest villains.

[dessarious]

What Makes a Family? Pt18

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“And what price are they going to have to pay for your magic?” Marinette couldn’t help but smile at the protective tone in Bruce’s voice as he glared at Plagg. She was beyond relieved that he seemed to be a good person and even her Guardian instincts were calm around him.

“The Miraculous are all about balance. In our case, as true Chosen, they affect us whether we use them or not. That’s why Cass’ life has been so difficult and mine has been relatively calm. Actually being in possession of Plagg’s ring will make things better for her. As for other holders, it varies. The longer you hold a Miraculous the more it pulls out certain traits in you. Good or bad depends on both the person and how in tune with the Miraculous they are.” Chloe’s over protective nature and Adrien’s possessiveness were both likely side effects of being holders but there was no way for her to know for certain.

“So they begin to turn you into a different person?” Marinette was shaking her head before he was even finished. She really wasn’t good at explaining things to other people.

“No. Any traits that the Miraculous bring out were already there. If anything they bring out a person’s true nature so they can’t hide who they really are. My former partner for instance was always showing his best face to the world around him but Plagg’s influence allowed those looking for it the ability to see some of his less desirable qualities. Especially when transformed.” While it made perfect sense that the ring had brought out the things Adrien felt he had to hide from the world, she still felt guilty. She also had to wonder how different his life would have been if she’d found her real Black Cat sooner. Cass burrowed into her side.

“Not your fault.” Marinette just hugged her twin closer. Even if Fu had picked Adrien, as the current Guardian he had still been her responsibility. She’d let her knowledge of his personal life define how she treated him when she should have simply judged his actions as a hero. It had been reckless and irresponsible. She’d put everyone at risk. She felt a vibration at her side and actually laughed when she realized Cass was purring to calm her down.

“Well if I needed any more proof that you are Plagg’s chosen, the fact that you’re picking up cat traits without even having the ring on you would have done it.” Cass stopped abruptly and buried her head into Marinette’s shoulder with an embarrassed whine. Mari just grinned and kissed her temple to try and soothe her. “At least yours is cute. The first trait I picked up was reflex bleeding.” It was a small consolation that Lila had a rash for over a month after grabbing her.

“Do I want to know what that is?” Marinette offered Bruce a commiserating smile. It was a lot to process.

“My skin secretes a toxic substance when I feel threatened. Sadly enough it’s actually helped in battles before. Poor baby August tried to eat me a few times while Akumatized.” Bruce just blinked at her and Marinette could practically hear him thinking ‘what the fuck?’ She grinned at him. “Once you’ve actually been through an Akuma attack, remind me to show you footage of past battles. It will prove educational and quite possibly entertaining.”

“You expect me to be entertained by one of my children almost being eaten?” He sounded insulted at the suggestion but Marinette rolled her eyes.

“No, but the fact that Hawkmoth tends to Akumatize the worst suited people into villains should. The only reason he’s still around is because he’s a coward. If I could find him all of this would be over in a heartbeat. Hopefully with Cass here my luck will keep shifting for the better.”

“I thought you were the one with good luck.” Mari let out a frustrated breath.

“Technically yes. However having the Miraculous active, especially with the ring being held by someone so much less in tune than I am, has been affecting me. It’s gotten better since I added other permanent holders but certain things haven’t improved at all. Also, the Kwami are of the opinion that Cass and I rubbed off some of our luck on each other in the womb. It’s likely the reason she ended up with you around the same time I first became Ladybug. Being together will allow us to buffer each other.” Bruce was still frowning at her but it seemed more contemplative than anything else.

“Cass.” She watched her sister peek at Bruce from her position. “What do you want to do?” Marinette let out an approving hum at the question. She got a strange sense of satisfaction that he treated Cass with such care even though she wasn’t his. He wasn’t as warm as her parents, but it was obvious he did care.

“Stay. Help.” Bruce let out a sigh but nodded. Cass relaxed further and Marinette could feel contentment radiating off her.

“So Selina said you’re a fashion designer?” Marinette rose an eyebrow at the subject change. “Since there’s nothing more to be done at present about what’s going on in Paris and it doesn’t appear to be an urgent issue, I would like to get to know you and I’m sure Cass does too.” She felt Cass nod.

“Yes, I’m a fashion designer. It was always what I wanted to do, but my actual start was one of the first twists of fate after I got my Miraculous. I ended up designing something for Jagged Stone and everything just sort of took off from there.” Cass stiffened slightly and Marinette saw Bruce’s eye twitch.

“You’re the designer he’s always bragging about?” Marinette felt her face flush. It hadn’t really occurred to her that he would be familiar with Jagged. Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose. “The boys are not going to leave you alone. Dick, Jason, and Tim have a running bet over who can get a commission from you first. I apologize in advance for whatever happens at dinner.” She laughed at his dry tone and caught Cass’ smile out of the corner of her eye.

“I assure you it can’t be worse than Uncle Jagged himself. He introduces me to all my new clients and I swear it gets more embarrassing every time. I’m fairly certain he practices just to annoy me.” Bruce’s mouth twitched into something between a smile and a grimace.

“Do not underestimate the boys’ ability to be annoying or embarrassing. That’s not even counting the fact that Damian is likely to challenge you to a duel in order to prove that he’s meant to be my true heir and I have no idea what weapons he managed to smuggle on the plane.” Marinette rolled her eyes. Why wasn’t she surprised?

“I take it Talia’s teachings are still strong?” He frowned at her. Oh right, he didn’t know she knew. “When she and Ra’s were in Paris she enjoyed bragging about him and his bloodlines. That’s how I figured out you were Batman. But don’t worry, I can handle him.” The skeptical look he shot her just made her grin. “Trust me. Besides, I just have to prove I’m not a threat to him. Given that I have no wish to take over your business and I have my own hero problems to worry about there’s no reason for him to take issue with me.” Bruce still seemed uncertain but Cass signed something at him and he nodded.

“I suppose we’ll just have to wait and see.” While Bruce obviously doubted her, she felt nothing but confidence from her twin. As nervous as she was to meet the others, Damian trying to kill her wasn’t that big a problem. At least with him, she knew what to expect.

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[legends-live-in-memories]

Picture Perfect

AYO! its me back with more content for the second time this week while i ignore my other wips again. this is a lil gift for @queen-o-leen who i promised wholesome content for! I hope you like it!

Timinette/Timari Oneshot 1.9K words (not related to my other timari oneshots)

Summary:

“Tim spends a nice day in a park in Paris and takes a picture of a pretty girl.

He somehow gets an almost date out of it.”

no warnings this time. completely family-friendly. I know i surprise myself with this one too.

without further ado

He would be the last to admit that Jason was right and that time away was what he needed at this point in life but it can’t be ignored that, for the first time in possibly three years, Tim was having a wonderful day. He was having a wonderful week actually. After one too many unsuccessful cold cases and the simmering anxiety of off-world missions, his family, primarily Jason, for some reason, demanded that he take some time off and away from his unusual brand of normal. How that meant being sent across the Atlantic Ocean to Paris of all places, he wasn’t entirely sure. Alfred probably had a hand in that decision given that, as part of his forced vacation, Tim was not allowed to actually plan any of it. Him. Timothy Jackson Drake. The guy who stalked and manoeuvred his way into Batman’s house and team. The guy who tracked and found said man when the universe thought he was dead but was actually drifting through time. Yeah, Tim was not pleased about being led blind on his vacation. 

At least Paris was a nice city. And he brought his camera. He figured he could use this time to get back into old hobbies and what better hobby to start up again in the city of love than photography? He’s taken pictures of every tourist attraction worth visiting by his second day and began to take candid shots of people and animals. Would Damian like the animal pictures? Maybe, if they came from someone who wasn’t Tim. Is he going to try and give them to him anyways? Absolutely not. He liked his liver where it is, thank you very much. They would serve as great bribing material however. But that’s a thought for another day. 

Right now he was working on capturing what could possibly be described as the stereotypical outing with friends. He’s sitting along some bushes near the entrance of a park and staring at a group of teens his own age hanging around. He spots a brunette with thick curls of hair animatedly speaking with a guy in a vibrant cap. She’s waving a camera herself, and he appreciates her taste in equipment. Her eyes spark with fox-like mischief while the cap guy has a peaceful aura about him; like an old turtle. Next he sees a blonde, her hair is in a ridiculously high ponytail and she’s in a deep conversation with a red head off to the side of the whole group; her words are rushing out of her and she’s a buzzing bee with excitement. Another blond is in the area, but he sits in a broad patch of sun possibly napping with an open book on his chest. Very cat-like Tim supposes. He barely pays them more than a second of thought however. No. 

His focus is on the quaint beauty directly in his line of sight. She’s poised up against the giant tree trunk with a sketchbook in her lap and pencils surrounding her. Her hair hangs by her shoulders in twintails and it’s a colour so dark it seems to absorb the shade of the tree. She’s scribbling furiously on the page before her and her tongue is slightly peaking out to the side. Her forehead is creased with stress lines and her shoulders hunch slightly over her frame. She’s the vision of deep concentration and dedication and Tim would be a fool not to capture her. He’s gotten wide shots of her companions but now he wants to focus on her. 

Looking through the lens of his camera he zooms in on her profile. When his camera focuses, he spots a constellation of freckles across her cheeks, barely there, almost blending in with her complexion but Tim is nothing if not hypervigilant. He goes to take another photo when a bug flies into view. It’s a ladybug. It lands precariously on the tip of her nose and it’s just the thing that breaks her out of her work-induced trance. Tim is watching her now, long forgetting to click the shutter. Her eyes cross as she stares intently at the black-spotted creature and its presence seems to amuse her. She’s giggling to herself, as if sharing an inside joke with the bug and reaches a slim finger to swipe the insect gently from her nose. She inspects it and smiles a smile so soft that not even a feather could compare. He feels like an intruder. More so than one who takes pictures of cute strangers in public. 

Coming back to his senses, he takes another picture, the final picture, and lowers the camera from his face. He looks back at his temporary muse and finds that she is already looking at him. Her head tilts in confusion. Apprehension. Possibly a bit of fear. Which is valid given that Tim was pointing a camera at her from across the public park. What should he do though to quell her fears? 

He felt his face lift into a grin; he didn’t need to look at himself to know it was awkward and forced. A shrug of his shoulders and a flimsy wave of the camera in his hand was the only thing he did. Before he could begin to stumble over himself in apology, however, she surprised him. With a cautious hunch, her shoulders brought up to her ears, and an embarrassed smile to match his own, she slowly flips her sketchbook around and he comes face to face with, well, his face. It was a portrait of him. She had drawn a portrait of him. And she was showing him. Feeling embolden, he flips his camera to show her the screen but she’s too far away. He gets up on unsteady legs, cramped from his uncomfortable position, and begins a slow stride towards her. She meets him in the middle.

“Hi.” He barely speaks those words. They’re more like an exhale or a sigh of relief that he hadn’t scared her off. 

“Hi, I hope you don’t mind the drawing.” Her voice is high and light. Like a spring breeze. She’s daintily waving at him and he sees that her fingers are rough, and calloused. Unexpected but he finds it rather charming. Before he could get another word in, she’s off like an engine. “I just saw you there, and you had your camera so I figured you were taking pictures of us and thought that if you were then you wouldn’t mind me sketching you in kind but I should have asked and I’m sorry for breaching your privacy—” 

“Wait, slow down.” He fears that if he hadn’t interrupted her when he did she would run out of oxygen. Did she even breathe during her spiel? A voice in his head, that sounds like Cass, utters a soft ‘pot, kettle’ and okay, he sees a lot of himself in her mile-a-minute style of speaking. 

“No need to apologize. I’m flattered, truly. You were right, I was taking pictures of you. And your friends!” he hastily adds that last part. He turns his camera so the display screen faces her and he feels himself hold his breath in anticipation. 

A blush rises to her cheeks, red like the ladybug that interrupted her. He quite likes that colour on her. His eyes drift to the sketch and he’s further impressed by her skill. She has an eye for detail. He notices a bird in the background. It’s a robin. That piques his interest and lights a flicker of fear within him. 

“May I ask,” he begins slowly, unsure of what that little addition could mean. Did she know? How could she? Was his identity compromised?

“Why did you draw a robin in the background? It’s lovely but I’m curious,” he finishes. He’s going to play dumb until he has more information. She seems taken off guard by the question and raises her shoulders to her ears again in an embarrassed hunch.

“Well,” she starts, but she seems unsure and the words die on her tongue. She tries again.

“I just saw it fly by and then it landed behind you. So I thought ‘why not?’ and drew it. It seemed fitting.” She wasn’t looking him in the eye and now he felt kind of felt like a jerk for baselessly accusing some random girl. Of course it was just a coincidence. This bat-paranoia was going to be the end of him one day. It’s by sheer miracles and luck why it hasn’t already. 

“Oh, no worries. It just surprised me because it’s my favourite bird.” Right. Lie to the pretty French girl. But what else could he do? Tell her the truth?

“Then it’s a cool coincidence, huh?” She seems encouraged by that tidbit of information.

“Yeah, pure luck on your part.”

“What?” She seems more startled at that than Tim thinks she should be but before he can think deeper into it she speaks again and he would be a fool to not give her his undivided attention.

“Why did you take a picture of me with the ladybug? If you don’t mind me asking.” That stumps him because, to be honest, he does not know why himself. It just felt right. So he tells her as such.

“Well that would be another coincidence because ladybugs are my favourite insects.” She gives him a full smile alongside that statement and the brilliance of it almost blinds him. He wants to capture that smile for eternity. 

The thought strikes him. He doesn’t want this moment to end. He knows by the Friday of next week he’ll be flying back to Gotham where it’s business as usual and Red Robin won’t have time for commitments and puppy love. But right now? Right now Tim Drake is on vacation with a week and half left and all the time in the world to entertain the idea of a spring romance. Making the decision, he goes for it and takes the chance.

“I was getting a bit hungry. Do you know anywhere that’s good to eat at?” It’s an offer, open to interpretation. If she just lists some place, he knows where her interests lay. If she offers to escort him somewhere, then she’s taken the bait for exactly what it is, an invitation for more; whatever more is. He hopes she takes the bait. 

“Yes I do actually! My parents own a bakery just outside the park.” Her enthusiasm is uplifting and the offer of a place so personal is a good sign in Tim’s book. “Let me show the way, and I could join you if you would like.”

“Perfect. That’s wonderful. It will be my treat since you’re going out of your way on my account.”

“Nonsense. Like I said, it’s my parents’ bakery. They’ll be more than happy to give some complimentary snacks.” She loops her arm around his and begins to drag him to the park gate. She’s strong and her grip is firm and Tim feels lightheaded at the ease with which she pulls him. He can’t help but be swept up in the tides that is this girl. 

“I’m Tim, by the way. Tim Drake.” He offers his name, something he should have done at the beginning.

She looks back at him over her shoulder and he’s caught up in the oceans of her eyes. They’re alight with joy. 

“Nice to meet you, Tim. I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” 

“Nice to meet you too.”

They’re almost by the bakery now, he can smell the fresh baked goods from here, and he can’t wait to sit down and get to know this girl better. Maybe get her number by the end of their lunch.

Yeah. Tim was having a wonderful day.

[thecassadilla]

CASS! I WANT THIS ONE FOR KA!

18. "You are the most idiotic but adorable human on the planet."

18. "You are the most idiotic but adorable human on the planet." Send me a prompt!

Kristoff had a crush. A big, fat, all consuming crush.

It felt juvenile, and ridiculous, but thoughts of his coworker, Anna, were constantly taking over his brain. Not only was she drop dead gorgeous, with her intoxicating blue eyes that he so easily found himself drowning in, and the sprinkling of freckles across her face, but she also had an incredible personality. She was sweet, and optimistic, and confident, and selfless - every single quality she possessed was admirable.

And though he thought he was being discreet and subtle about his ever-growing feelings for her, it was very quickly brought to his attention that the mushy, hearts-in-his-eyes way he would stare at her from across the office while they were working was very obvious to everyone around him - everyone except Anna, who thankfully, never seemed to notice.

What she may have noticed, however, was his social ineptitude and the way he seemed to bumble through every conversation he had with her. He was drawn to her like a magnet, but he couldn’t seem to actually keep it together while he was in her presence, attempting to keep his demeanor on the gruff side and maintain a little distance between them in a desperate attempt to keep his feelings hidden. But she was too nice - and, perhaps, a little unwavering with her friendliness - and he always found himself melting as soon as she was in proximity of him. Just thinking about her was enough to cause a dopey, lovesick smile to cross his lips.

“Did you hear about what happened to Anna?” Stacy, the woman who sat at the desk next to him, asked, effectively pulling him out of his Anna-induced trance.

“No,” Kristoff frowned. “What happened?”

“She had a meeting with human resources today. That new guy, Jake, kept harassing her about going out on a date with him and it got really bad. Like, unsolicited pictures and threatening texts, bad.”

“Oh, man,” was all he could manage. Though he didn’t want Stacy to catch onto his feelings, on the inside, he was seething with anger. He couldn’t believe that Anna - the kindest, sincerest, most down-to-earth person in the entire world - was dealing with all of that. No one deserved to be harassed or made uncomfortable, especially in the workplace, but Anna especially didn’t deserve it.

“I feel so horrible for her. It’s just wrong, you know? Every guy seems to think the word ‘no’ means try harder - except you, of course. You’re one of the few actually respectful guys left in the world.”

“Oh...um, thanks. I appreciate that.” As quickly as he could, he turned his attention back towards his computer, eager to avoid hearing anymore details about what happened to Anna from Stacy but knowing full well that he wasn’t going to be able to get any work done for the rest of his shift.

At the end of the day, and as per usual, Anna appeared by his desk, her jacket draped over her arm and her hands clutching her purse. “I’m heading out now, do you want me to wait for you?”

“No, that’s okay. You go ahead, I don’t want to keep you waiting.”

“Alright,” she smiled. “Have a good night, Kristoff.”

“You, too.”

He sat there for a moment, watching as she sauntered away from him before changing his mind about sticking around. What he really wanted was to talk to her and make sure she was alright after hearing about the situation with Jake.

“Anna, wait up!” he called, hastily gathering his belongings before jogging over to her. “I will walk out with you.”

“Really?” she inquired, a perplexed look crossing her features. “You never walk out with me.”

“I know. I, uh...I heard what happened to you today.”

Her face fell. “You did, huh?”

“Yeah, and I...I just wanted to make sure you were alright after...everything.”

“Oh. I’m fine,” she insisted, waving a dismissive hand. “It happens all the time.”

“I’m sure it does, but that doesn’t make it okay. I’m really sorry that that happened.”

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault.”

“I know, but I feel really bad. I just want you to know that if you need someone to talk to, I’m here for you.”

“Thank you, Kristoff. I really appreciate it.” She placed a hand on his bicep for a moment before letting it fall to her side.

“Of course.”

A brief silence fell between them, and the elevator doors slid open. Once the doors closed around them, she continued. “It’s funny, isn’t it? The people you aren’t interested in always like you and the people you actually want don’t like you?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” he chuckled nervously, unsure of what she was getting at.

She shrugged, smiling half-heartedly. “That’s been my experience, at least. Maybe you have better luck than I do.”

“I don’t think I do,” he hummed, his heart rate starting to pick up as he peered down at her. He was standing so close that he could count the freckles that were dappled across her nose and cheeks. “Honestly, I don't even try.”

“How come?” Anna met his gaze, her dazzling blue eyes wide with curiosity.

Kristoff looked away for a moment, unsure of how he should answer her. Because I’m spineless. Because I’m worried you’ll reject me. Because I don’t want to ruin our friendship. “I don’t know. It’s...complicated.”

“For what it’s worth, you’re a great guy, Kris. I think you should try. You might be surprised.”

“Thanks,” he nodded, pondering what she said in his head. Suddenly feeling a little emboldened, but still very nervous, he lowered his voice as he continued, “But what if she says ‘no?’”

“There’s only one way to find out, isn’t there?” she said softly, her eyes searching his. “And if she says ‘no,’ there’ll be someone else. But I think you should ask her. You never know, she might feel the same way.”

The doors slid open once again, revealing the lobby of the building. They stepped off, not making it far from the elevator before pausing again. “You think?”

“I mean, I don’t know her, but I can’t imagine anyone turning you down. You’re sweet, and considerate, and very handsome.”

Kristoff raised his eyebrows in shock as a rush of adrenaline coursed through his veins. He could practically feel his heart swell with affection and warmth as he looked at her, in awe over her compliments. “You really feel that way about me?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it,” Anna laughed. He couldn’t help but notice that there was a hint of sadness in the melodic sound that wasn’t usually present. “I think she would be a fool to turn you down.”

“Oh.” He blinked, still completely taken aback by what she’d said about him. “Well...thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Let me know how it goes, okay?” She started walking towards the exit, glancing over her shoulder after a moment to see if he was following her. “Are you coming?”

Unwilling to let another opportunity pass him by, he decided to speak up. He raced to catch up with her. “Anna, wait. Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Um...so…” he trailed off, a thin veil of sweat gathering by his hairline. “Would you, um, would you maybe want to grab dinner sometime?”

“Yes!” she answered immediately, her entire face lighting up as she bounced in place. “Yes, yes, a million times, yes!”

“Really?” A giddy huff of laughter escaped his lips. He could hardly believe his ears.

Her eyebrows furrowed as her lips continued to quirk upwards. “After everything I just said, why wouldn’t I want to go on a date with you?”

“I-I don’t know,” he stammered, barely able to hear over his pounding heart. “You’re so pretty, and smart, and way out of my league. I didn’t think you’d be interested, and I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, either.”

“You do realize that I’ve had a crush on you since I started working here, right?”

“You - what?”

“You are the most idiotic but adorable human on the planet,” Anna giggled, her cheeks tinging pink as she beamed at him. “I thought it was obvious! Why do you think I always ask you to hang out with me?”

His mouth went dry as he was inundated with a flood of memories. Invitations to grab a cup of coffee after work that he always turned down because he’d “be up all night if he had caffeine at this hour.” Or, how he always rejected her offers to eat lunch with him in the break room - instead choosing to eat the lunch he’d made for himself at his desk in solitude. Or, all the times she offered to stick around and wait for him to finish his work for the day so they could walk out to the parking lot together, which he declined, feeling guilty at the prospect of making her wait even a short amount of time. They were small and subtle gestures, but why would she offer to do something more extravagant when he always turned her down?

“I thought you were just being nice,” Kristoff mumbled, averting his gaze as his face and neck grew uncomfortably warm. “I didn’t think...I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry!” she insisted, quickly taking his hands in her own. “I was mostly trying to be friendly because you always seemed so lonely, and I really do like you, but I probably should’ve backed down after you said ‘no,’ the first time I asked you to hang out. And I would have, but Stacy was insistent that you felt the same way about me. She said you were shy, and would never ask me yourself, so I kept asking you. I was hoping that, at the very least, we could be friends.”

"Yeah," Kristoff said shakily, still overwhelmed not only by the fact that she'd said 'yes,' but that she felt the same way. But regardless of how he felt on the inside, on the outside he couldn't stop smiling.

"But this is so much better than just being friends!" Anna squealed, throwing her arms around his neck.

And she was right - it was so much better.

[sohotthateveryonedied]

Gender? In THIS Economy?

Read here on AO3!

Summary:

Duke is questioning stuff and goes to Tim for advice. (feat. trans!Tim and nonbinary!Duke)

“Here you go. One Batburger with extra pickles, extra onions, and extra extra mayonnaise.” Duke drops the paper takeout bag unceremoniously into Tim’s lap. “Your taste buds need a tune-up, bro.”

Tim unwraps his burger and takes a bite. Batburger may be questionable when it comes to copyright laws, but damn if they don’t pile on the condiments better than any fast food restaurant in Gotham. “Sounds to me like you simply haven’t reached the sky-scraping level of enlightenment that I have, grasshopper.”

“Enlightenment would have been going to Red Robin and using your uniform to get a discount,” Duke says. He sits beside Tim on the rooftop’s edge, their legs dangling side by side a hundred feet above Gotham’s plunging gray streets. He digs into his own burger and makes a face. “Enlightenment would also be getting the Robin Nuggets next time. This tastes like dried leather.”

“I like it,” Tim says with a shrug. “It has personality.”

“So does raw sewage, but you don’t see me eating that.”

Tim concedes the point. His communicator buzzes in his belt. He checks the screen and discovers an alert from Cass composed entirely of clown emojis and red harlequin diamonds.

Duke notices. “Should we get that?”

Tim pockets the communicator. “Nah, Spoiler’s got it. We have time to relax.” And he’s not about to pass up quality time with the one little brother who doesn’t hate him. It’s hard enough as it is for Tim and Duke to find the time, what with them being on opposite sleeping schedules and work snatching their attention away with grabby, toddler-sized hands.

“Don’t get a lot of that during the day shift,” Duke says. “Every time an alarm goes off, it’s my business.”

Tim knocks him in the side with his elbow. “That’s what you get for turning to the light side instead of kicking it in the shadows with us. More employees to go around.” He sips his soda for a moment. “Why did you come out tonight, anyway? I thought you stayed in on weeknights.”

“Right. I actually wanted to talk to you about something.” Duke says it carefully, like he’s testing the waters. “I need advice.”

Tim has to admit that his chest puffs out a little at that. It’s not often people come to him for advice when Dick and Barbara are right there, all full of adult wisdom that Tim is too pitifully shrimpy to possess. “What’s up?”

“It’s kind of...personal.”

“Yes, Bruce does have special powder for suit-chafing. It’s in the cabinet under the first-aid supplies.”

“It’s not that,” Duke says, though he snorts in half-hearted laughter. He looks down at his hands like he’s dreading the words lodged in his throat. “What was it like, realizing you were a dude?”

One of Tim’s eyebrows shoots up. “Oh.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. It’s an invasive question.”

“No, no, it’s fine. You just caught me off guard, is all.” It’s not like this is the first time someone has asked. Tim used to be uncomfortable talking about it, but he’s grown up since then. Talking about his trans journey is as normal as talking about what he did yesterday. He eats a fry. “What do you want to know?”

Duke searches Tim’s face for a sign that he’s lying, that he should back off. When he doesn’t find one, he asks, “How old were you when you figured it out?”

Tim thinks back. “Nine, I think? But even before that, it’s not like I ever really felt like a girl. I knew there was something wrong, but I didn’t know what. When I first heard about what being transgender meant, everything I’d been feeling until then clicked into place.”

“What was it like?” Duke asks, “growing up the way you did? Presenting as a girl when you knew you weren’t?”

Tim shrugs. “I don’t know. It was life at the time. I dealt with it.”

“Was it hard? Pretending to be something you weren’t?”

Tim doesn’t know what answer Duke is looking for, or why he’s so interested, but he won’t ask. “My parents always had this idea of me being the perfect daughter, all obedient and graceful and crap. I’m pretty sure their hope was to eventually marry me off to the highest bidder so they could reap the business benefits.”

“That sounds awful.”

Tim shrugs again. “I didn’t start feeling any different than I should have until around six or seven. I was always a tomboy. I liked doing boy stuff and playing sports, but my parents thought it was a phase I would grow out of. They’d make me wear dresses and go to fancy parties with them, all the while I just wanted to claw my skin off and go home.”

He remembers the nights he would lie awake in bed, imagining what it must be like to have been born someone else. Anyone else. To grow up as a little boy who was allowed to run around, to get dirty, to be himself instead of following some arbitrary guidelines someone else drew up the day he was born. He imagined what it would feel like to answer to a different name than the one he’d been given, which grated on his ears the longer time went on, like an itchy sweater he couldn’t shed. It was hell.

He gives Duke a sly grin. “But the upside of having absent parents is that there aren’t as many people watching you. No one cared if I went to school in the boy’s uniform instead of the girl’s. No one was there to stop me from cutting my hair short the way I wanted it.”

Duke's eyes widen. “You cut your own hair?”

“It went exactly the way you’re thinking. I had to go to the barber the next day and have them fix it because it was so uneven. But by the end of the day, it was the way I always imagined it. I was finally starting to look like the person I wanted to be.”

Duke stares intently at the remains of his burger as if the universe’s answers to an unspoken question were written in sesame seeds. “Did it get better after that? Did you feel...at peace?”

“‘Course not. The world wasn’t magically fixed just because I took a step in the right direction. My problems didn’t go away.” When he says that, Duke looks almost...disappointed? “But,” Tim adds, “it was better than it was before. I still had to act for my parents and the rest of the world, but I didn’t have to hide from myself anymore.”

“How did your parents react when they found out?”

Tim grimaces. “They...didn’t take it well.” He can still hear his father’s voice in his memories, bringing up therapy and camps and whatever places he could think of that would “fix” his little girl.

“But, after a while,” Tim continues, “it was clear that I wasn’t going to change my mind anytime soon. I guess they figured it would be easier to go along with it than fight me every step of the way. They still didn’t like it, but they tolerated it.”

Duke is quiet.

“Why do you ask?” Tim prods.

Duke’s expression doesn’t give anything away. It’s nights like this when Tim can see how perfectly Duke fits into this mental institution they call a family. For all that Duke thrives in the light, he keeps his cards just as close to his chest as the rest of them. He gives Tim a half-smile. “Just wondering.”

“Okay.”

They fall into weighted silence, the scales tipping on either side of their post, but never settling. Tim waits. He finishes his burger and busies himself with reorganizing the pouches in his belt, giving Duke the privacy to think.

“I don’t know,” Duke starts after several minutes, “if I’m a boy.” He looks at Tim. “I think I might be something else.”

“Okay,” Tim says calmly. “What do you feel like?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve always felt different, y’know? When I was a kid, it was because I was smarter than everyone in my class. And it was fine, because I knew what it was and how it worked and why it was a good thing, being the smart one. It made sense. Time went on, the other kids started catching up, but that mismatched feeling never went away. I never felt right in my skin.”

Duke’s face rises to the dark clouds, the Batsignal shining from the top of the police station like a holy beacon. “Then I met Batman. My powers started to come in and everything clicked into place, all at once. That was why I never felt like I fit in with everyone else, because I was different. I had powers. That must have been it.”

“But it wasn’t,” Tim guesses.

Duke shakes his head. “I thought it would be. I mean, what else could it have been, you know? It should have explained why I never felt at home in my identity. But time goes on, I learn how to use my powers, and it fixes some of it, but not everything. There’s still part of me that looks in the mirror and sees something off. Some detail out of place.”

“Do you feel like a girl?” Tim ventures to ask.

Duke folds over the corner of his straw wrapper again and again in tiny triangles. “Nah, I doubt it. I like some feminine things, but I don’t think I’m a girl. Or a guy. I think...I might be nonbinary?”

Tim does his best to channel Bruce’s “supportive dad” energy and smiles. “Okay. What pronouns do you want to use?”

“They/them, maybe? For a while?”

“Duly noted.” He puts a hand on Duke’s shoulder. “I really do appreciate you telling me.”

Duke rubs the back of their neck, their cheeks flushing. “It feels good to say out loud. Not just in my head.”

“Do you think you’re going to tell anyone else? You don’t have to if you’re not ready, but our whole family will support you.”

“Yeah.” Duke picks at their nails, nodding absently. “I know they will. I’m not worried about that.”

“Then what are you worried about?”

Duke takes a deep breath in, and Tim is reminded of a balloon close to bursting. “My parents aren’t dead. I’m going to get them back. And when I do...what are they going to think when they wake up after half a decade and find out that their son isn’t their son anymore? What if they don’t like the person they see?”

Tim can’t say that he hadn’t swum with the same thoughts years ago, back when the person who is Tim Drake was still on the drawing board. But there’s a difference between his situation and Duke’s. “Your parents love you, Duke. They’re not going to stop loving you just because you’ve grown up since they last saw you.”

“What if it’s too much? The superpowers and the crime-fighting and the new gender...it’s a lot to take in.”

“Well, sure,” Tim says. “It might take some time for them to get used to it, but this is who you are. They’re going to love it just as much as they love the rest of you.”

Duke smiles, and if their eyes are a little misty, Tim pretends not to notice.

“Besides,” he says. “If I were you, I’d just lead with the superpowers thing. Anything after that sounds perfectly acceptable.”

[kingreywrites]

to treasure that heart like I do

Prompt: “You almost died and you’re making jokes?” for @royygbivv

Fandom: Tangled

Word Count: 2237

Summary: Rapunzel bites her lips. Looks away. The silence is tense between them, and he wants to reach out but he's not sure if that'll help at all. He can't��� He can't recall what led them here, with him wounded and her upset with him but- Whatever he did, he wants to make it right.

Note: i finally manage to write something and of course it’s self-indulgent new dream hurt/comfort.... i’m a happy one trick pony :’)

Read on ao3

His return to consciousness is slow. Like his mind is working through a thick fog, unable to focus on anything, to grasp anything except the emptiness. He's aimlessly floating for the longest time - or no time at all? And then, it starts. A dull ache emanating from the back of his neck; the feeling of something soft under his fingertips; the heaviness of his body, solid and real; and a caress, a hand trailing down his skin, murmurs he can't hear around him. Little by little, the fog smothering him lifts, and Eugene blinks his eyes open, met by the familiar sight of Hookfoot's hammock above him, and the welcome sight of that same hammock being empty. (He always worries that Hookfoot is gonna fall on him one of these days, with how much he wiggles at night.)

Eugene's vision is blurry. The room is too bright. He feels exhausted which, considering he literally just woke up, is a little worrying. And his head hurts a lot, though he draws blank as to why. 

Slowly, he tries to raise his hand to his head, his limb clumsy and uncooperative. Eugene tenses, and his pain spikes, making him groan under his breath and close his eyes again. His head is swimming, and suddenly, he remembers that weird feeling of floating, away and away and away. 

"Eugene?" 

A whisper, from the only voice he wants to hear right now. And a hand, small but holding his own without any trouble, slowly bringing it back down to his chest. 

"Sorry, you shouldn't touch your wound." 

"Hey Sunshine," he says quietly, breathing deeply to try and get his pain under control. 

After... a minute, or maybe ten, Eugene opens his eyes again, a smile on his face when he sees the bright blond hair and the very green eyes peering down at him. She's frowning. Belatedly, his mind catches up to her words, and this wound he shouldn't touch - how did he get hurt? 

Thinking is hard. His mind is still sluggish, and he's parched, which Rapunzel seems to guess since she gently helps him up to drink. The change in position is nauseating, but Eugene does his best to hide it, hating the worry clouding Rapunzel's eyes. She puts a glass of water to his lips, and though he tries to hold it himself, he's too aware of how his hand shakes, and how it would fall if she let go. 

"Thanks," he mumbles when she takes it away, too worn out to feel ashamed. It's okay; it's Rapunzel with him. He trusts her with everything. 

"How are you feeling?" she asks, strangely quiet through it all. 

He looks at her again - wishes he could read her expression perfectly. Beyond the expected concern, he thinks he sees anger in the way her mouth twitches, but Rapunzel is better at restraint than most people expect, and because he knows her, Eugene also knows that loving her doesn't always make it easier to guess what she's feeling. 

"Sore," he says finally, and it's the truth, though it should come after the various aches and pains he can feel in his bones. "My head hurts a bit," he adds reluctantly, when her expression doesn't change. 

Rapunzel bites her lips. Looks away. The silence is tense between them, and he wants to reach out but he's not sure if that'll help at all. He can't… He can't recall what led them here, with him wounded and her upset with him but- Whatever he did, he wants to make it right. 

"You should rest," she says, in a tone clearly implying this sentence to be a conclusion, even though they barely talked. 

Eugene's heart is beating loudly in his chest, and he grabs her hand when she moves to make him lie down again. She raises an eyebrow, and he honestly didn't think that far - he doesn't know what he wants to say, to ask, and he feels like he should at least apologise but he can't even be sure about what. Rapunzel looks as exhausted as he feels, her clothes wrinkled and her hair in more disarray than she usually allows. 

"Are you okay?" he asks, because even when he doesn't know what to say, or do, he always wants to be sure of that. 

Rapunzel laughs. He hadn't expected that. She laughs, puts her hand in front of her mouth and turns her head to the side, and laughs again, the shake of her shoulders resembling a sob. All of the sudden, she's crying, desperately muffling her tears as she hides from him, and there's no pain in the world that could prevent Eugene from straightening up - no dizziness that could keep him from leaning forward and touching her. She doesn't react, not to his touch, not to his scared and babbled reassurances that he's fine, she's fine, they're all okay, so please breathe Sunshine, for me-

She shudders. Heaves. Turns towards him finally, and hugs him, a force in her grip that she can't contain. He thought that he was going to hold her together, but it feels like she's doing that for him, holding him tight so he can never fall through her grasp again.

Fall… There's an echo of his name being yelled in his mind. Of an outstretched hand he couldn't take, and of falling and falling, the moment quick and eternal at the same time.

"Of course he asks me if I'm fine," Rapunzel bites out wetly, interrupting his thoughts. The third person is a bad omen, even if she's holding him in his arms. "Of course Eugene 'I've got a death wish' Fitzherbert asks me if I'm fine as if I'm the one who fell down a cliff and right onto her head!"

Her voice gets higher and higher as she talks, and Eugene winces, fragments of the story falling into place. He doesn't say sorry. He won't say sorry because he was worried about her. So he nods quietly, knowing she needs to say that.

"Is it too much to ask you to worry about yourself? Why do you- Why do you keep doing that!" she exclaims, frustration and fear choking her, head still on his shoulder (which he guesses wouldn't make the situation look as serious to anyone else - but he hears in her voice something scared and little that he isn't used to from her, and her holding him doesn't change that).

That. Why does he keep doing that. His memories are still muddled, difficult to navigate through, but he sees her smiling next to him. They're alone - a date, he remembers, she took him on a date that day - and they're having fun but… He's not sure about that part. He remembers being scared. Looking at Rapunzel from far away, and knowing he had to get to her. He was scared, and she was too when he pushed her; he remembers her expression, the shock and the realisation, his name on her lips as he felt the ground under him give and-

He fell. He pushed her - fell to save her?

Eugene doesn't say sorry there either. Because he's not. His head hurts, everything is blurry, but he'd sacrifice himself a hundred times over if it was to save her. She knows it, just like he does.

"I'm okay," he repeats softly, and she snorts.

"Do you even- Do you even know what I- fuck," she cries, gripping him tighter as he startles. Rapunzel doesn't swear. She doesn't like it, and prefers to steer away from it, which is endearing in his opinion, but makes the occasional swearing so much worse. Her voice is wrung out, hoarse, and the guilt he was keeping at bay slams into him full force, because she's miserable and it's his fault.

He cranes his head around to try to look at her, and it's his worst idea of the hour - he's not quick enough to swallow his own grunt, and suddenly Rapunzel is letting go of him, trying to get him back in bed. Her eyes are red, tears staining her pale cheeks, and he wonders how long she had waited for him to wake up before now. Had she slept? He thinks Cass would force her to leave his side, (and for all that they bicker he's grateful Rapunzel has someone that dedicated in her corner), but even she couldn't push Rapunzel to really sleep if she wasn't able to.

He doesn't allow himself to be laid down just yet, resisting the hand on his chest easily. She's being careful with him. Rapunzel can't meet his eyes, and as he's about to say… Anything, really, to try and make her feel better, when she whispers, voice heavy: "I thought you died."

She doesn't say again. He hears it anyway. The weight in his throat triples, and he holds her hand like an anchor, unsure as to which of them is lost in the storm.

"You- You fell," she stutters painfully, "and then you weren't moving. There was… a lot of blood, around your head. From where I was, I couldn't be sure- I thought- I thought-"

"I'm sorry," he says this time, without hesitation. He's not sorry for worrying about her, not sorry for saving her, but he's so deeply sorry for putting her through anything like that, for making her worry and cry and relive the tower and- He's sorry, and he repeats it again, because he feels like he's choking with remorse. "I'm so sorry Sunshine, I- I never wanted-"

"I know." Soft. Resigned. Loving, too, accepting his apology because she really did know that.

When she pushes him back on his bed this time, he lets her, and lies down again. His head is pounding, and he's tired, but- he feels like he should apologise again, and knows he shouldn't. He raises his hand to her cheek, and she holds it here, closing her eyes.

"Head injuries bleed a lot," she explains, voice quiet. "I- Cass said your wound didn't seem deep and that you were lucky."

"How did Cass get there?"

"I… may have carried you all the way to the caravan. While crying." She rubs at her nose uneasily, but there's a small smile on her lips he's so glad to see again. "It wasn't my proudest moment."

"Can't believe I wasn't conscious for this," he grins. "I like it when you carry me."

"It was very romantic," she says, playing along as she strokes his hair. "A princess has to rescue her dashing rogue from time to time."

He laughs at that, a speck of pride at her agreement that yes, he was indeed quite dashing. "You save me all the time, though."

"So do you," she answers. She's smiling, but it dims as her eyes fall on his bandage again, and her shoulders slump. He saves her, and puts his life in danger, and that's the problem here, isn't it?

He knows she's scared of losing him. He knows, and understands, because he's just as scared of losing her, just as afraid that what happened with Gothel will happen again. It's a terror that used to keep them up at night, that never truly left, and he can't- he can't imagine what she felt, when she saw him down there and thought he died. Silently, he vows to make it up to her, any way he can.

"It's all good, then," he says after a while. When she looks at him, a question in her eyes, he smiles, hesitant and honest. "You save me, and I save you, again and again, until we just keep saving each other. That way, no one has to get hurt."

She considers his words, and chuckles. "I guess that's true."

A beat. His eyes are heavy, and Eugene feels exhaustion drape over him gently, trying to drag him down to sleep again. There's something else he wants to say, though, so he resists as best as he can.

"Sunshine?" he whispers, and she hums quietly. "Next time… I'll try harder to not get hurt if I save you. I promise."

He sees how she bites back her usual protests. She doesn't answer with optimism, or anger - doesn't tell him that there will be no next time, that he should stop all together. Instead, she breathes in deeply, and says "Thank you". It's honest, and relieved, and Eugene knows she means it.

The moment passes, and Eugene knows, now, that they are okay again. As good as they can be.

"Can't promise I won't ever fall off a cliff again," he notes, words garbled when he yawns in the middle of his sentence.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, because - no matter how much time passes," he says, a wide smile on his face, "I will never stop falling for you."

She stills. He wiggles his eyebrows. Her mouth twitches, not in anger this time, but announcing the full body laughter that follows suit, Rapunzel hiding her head in her hands to try to contain it.

"That was terrible!" she announces loudly, though she's obviously still laughing in her hands. "You- You almost died and you're making jokes?"

"Well, was it funny?"

"No!" she exclaims, laughing. He'll take it.

This time, when he falls asleep, the last thing he sees is the brilliant smile on her face, and he knows she'll be there when he wakes up.

[can-u-like-stop]

Secretly, I want you close to me

Bucky Barnes x Sam Wilson

5 times Bucky touches/thinks about touching Sam and the 1 time he realises what it means

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31958725

-----------------------------------------

1.

The day Sam told Bucky that he shouldn’t hold back when they were sparring was a day Bucky would surely remember. Well, the exact words were: “If you think just ‘cause you got steroids on steroids running through your blood that that means I’m too easy for you then I hope you’re ready for a reminder once I beat your ass”. Nevertheless, sparring sessions with Sam always have Bucky in a good mood. 

On account of the serum, Bucky ends up winning a fair amount of the fights. On those days, Sam taps out and Bucky extricates himself from the hold with care and gives him a pat on the back, suggesting they go again.

“Don’t gimme that tone,” He gripes,

Bucky laughs, “what tone? I asked if you wanted to go again.”

“I know you think you’re hot shit, just wait ‘till we get in the sky then we’ll see who's the reigning champ.” Sam says, taking a swig of water before getting set up again.

It’s a reliable pattern that they follow until they have something else to do or they get bored.

But every now and then Sam would get Bucky in a hold of some sort or maybe throw him down, making the wind knock right out of his chest. And Bucky would have to reach out and tap Sam’s shoulder or thigh or any available part, the release brings both relief and disappointment. He then has to deal with Sam gloating for the next few minutes, until he manages to convince Sam to have another go.

“I stepped on a leaf, it wasn’t fair.” Bucky says, smirking as Sam takes his baited argument.

“Uhm, okay tinman, get up and we’ll see if you can blame this,” he gestures to himself, “on a leaf.”

As the rounds go on and on they get more tired, Bucky’s attempted punches pull back covered in sweat that he can’t identify as his or Sam’s. Eventually after another round has them laying panting next to each other, Sam gets up.

“Alright, that’s it for me. I gotta contact Joaquin, he told me he might have something for us.” 

“Sure,” Bucky gets up, “it’s been too quiet lately anyway.” He throws a smile at Sam and puts a hand on his back with a wet slap. He quickly retracts in disgust. 

“Ugh, gross.” He whines, earning him a laugh from Sam.

“Yeah, I’m also heading in to shower.”

“I got dibs.” Bucky rushes out, starting a jog to the house.

“C’mon man!” He hears behind him but he just throws a smirk over his shoulder as he heads into the house. He feels light and there’s a warm smile stuck on his face, as there usually is after he and Sam’s sparring sessions. Bucky pays it no mind, however, and heads to the shower.

2.

The ride back from their mission was filled with somber silence. The plan was to apprehend people involved in the development of a chemical weapon. They had information from a person on the inside but they got caught right before Sam and Bucky had arrived. 

Bucky found them first and the scientist was threatening to blow the whole building. Sam wasn’t able to get there in time and Bucky couldn’t talk them out of it. The building went down and Bucky managed to make it out but the informant had been killed.

Joaquin was looking into the scientist to see if he could find who now had the plans for the weapons, Sam and Bucky were sitting beside each other on the helicopter back to the USAF base. Both of them were staring at the floor, struggling to find anything to say.

“You okay?” Sam eventually asks, causing Bucky to glance over at him.

“Yeah, why?” Bucky says, even though ‘okay’ is debatable.

“You just watched two people get crushed in a building that you barely escaped from. A normal person might be a bit shook up from that.”

“Well I’m not normal,” Bucky mutters, looking back at his hands. “I’m just sorry that I couldn’t get him to put the detonator down.” 

Sam scoffs, “Buck, you couldn’t even get close to him there was nothing you could do,” he reassures. 

There are a few moments of silence.

“I wish I could’ve gotten there in time, I could’ve taken him out.” Sam sighs,

“What?” Bucky asks incredulously, “that’s bullshit. You were on the wrong side of the building, you couldn’t have got there in time.”

“I could’ve gone faster.” Sam argues,

“I could’ve stalled for longer, so it’s my fault that you didn’t get there.”

“It’s not your fault, Bucky.” 

“Well, it’s not yours.” Bucky says, lifting his face to stare at Sam’s defiantly. Sam cracks a smile first and it breaks Bucky’s stern look as well. 

Bucky reaches out and puts his arm around Sam’s shoulders. “Sometimes missions go south,” he says, rubbing Sam’s shoulder, “it sucks but I’ve been told by therapists to not think too much about what I can’t control.” 

That gets a chuckle out of Sam and Bucky’s chest warms, thank god he’s cheering up. 

“It does suck…” Sam says absent-mindedly, bringing his own arm up to pat Bucky’s back.

The tense, suffocating silence gives way to a comforting peace between the two of them, until the phone in the helicopter rings and Joaquin answers it. He pokes his head out a few seconds later,

“Sam? They want to talk with you.”

Bucky shoots Sam a reassuring smile as he gets up to walk over there. Joaquin walks away from the phone and over to Bucky.

“That was a tough mission today.” He remarks.

Bucky offers him a grunt and a nod.

Joaquin gives a nod back and reaches out to give Bucky a reassuring pat, Bucky reacts on instinct and backs up. Joaquin’s hand jerks back in surprise, confusion and apology written on his face.

“Sorry, I just-” Bucky tries to explain, “I’m just not really comfortable with… like touching.” 

“Oh shit, sorry man,” Joaquin says, “I just assumed ‘cause of you and Sam, but I shouldn’t have, sorry.” 

Bucky offers a tense smile and Joaquin seems to accept it and he turns around to head back to doing whatever it is he does after missions. Bucky relaxes back in his seat, thinking.

‘I just assumed ‘cause of you and Sam’ Joaquin had said, Bucky frowns to himself. I guess I’m a little bit more touchy with Sam, he thinks. He considers doing what he just did with any other person and comes up blank. Maybe Steve, if he were still there, but that’s because Bucky’s known him his whole life. Sam is… different.

Touching people usually ends with Bucky feeling like his skin is crawling. If it’s someone he already knows he doesn’t mind it as much but he’d never initiate any kind of touch with people. Except for Sam. 

Why? Bucky thinks to himself, furrowing his eyebrows together. Sam’s presence is just calming, Bucky feels like he can trust him and let his guard down. But he also trusts people like Ayo and Shuri, and it doesn’t feel the same as Sam.

Bucky’s saved from having to think more about it when Sam calls out for him.

“They wanna ask you about the mission.” Sam holds out the phone.

Bucky sighs, not looking forward to whoever he needs to talk to and whatever he needs to say. He tucks his deliberations to the side for now, maybe he’ll think more on it later.

3.

Voices from people talking in various conversations float around Bucky as he eats at the Wilson’s neighbourhood cookout. He’s sat with Cass to his left, Sam at the end of the table on his right, and Sarah and AJ across from him, their usual seats. Sam’s telling a story from one of their previous undercover operations to Sarah.

“Now I’m pretty sure they got some messed up stuff going on there ‘cause the halls were actually changing.” Sam says, causing Bucky to snort. 

“What’s the matter?” Sam asks, smiling over at Bucky.

“The halls didn’t change,” Bucky punches Sam’s shoulder then turns to Sarah, “he got lost.” 

“I was not lost! I swear to god the hallways changed! I went in one hallway and then immediately went out and I was in a completely different place.”

“Sure, whatever you say.” Bucky jokes, patting Sam on the shoulder and Bucky notices Sarah eyeing the movement. Sam swipes his hand away,

“Don’t patronise me! I know what I saw.” He turns back to Sarah to continue the story, leaving Bucky thinking about the look on Sarah’s face. 

She didn’t seem confused but she did look surprised at Bucky’s eagerness to touch Sam. Unlike Joaquin, Sarah knew that Bucky was pretty averse to touch. The people in the town were endlessly friendly and often Sarah took it upon herself to turn down hugs for him because he always felt bad for doing so. Bucky considers the question again, why does he touch Sam so much? A lot of the time the reason he doesn’t touch people is simply because he doesn’t feel comfortable around them, giving Bucky an answer that doesn’t quite seem to fit with Sam. It’s not just comfort, Bucky thinks, there’s something else.

He considers Sarah. He’s hugged Sarah before and didn’t hate it, and he wouldn’t shy away from Sarah giving him a comforting pat on the back or a side-hug. But Bucky imagines reaching out and patting Sarah’s shoulder like he did with Sam just now and that simply seems odd to Bucky. Why? Bucky asks himself. Because I don’t want to, he answers his own question. And with Sam, I do? he thinks. He looks over at Sam,

Yes, he answers. Something about Sam just makes Bucky want to reach out and touch him. Even now, when Bucky pretends to be listening, he can remember the feel of Sam’s shoulder, he remembers how it feels to have an arm around him and what it’s like to feel the rumble in his chest when he laughs or the steady movement of him breathing. Bucky wants to feel it again.

“Right, Bucky?” Sarah asks, shaking Bucky out of his thoughts.

“Huh?” He says, “sorry I wasn’t listening.”

“I said, Sam’s always pretty stubborn, right?”

“Oh, definitely.” He says, turning to look at Sam who looks back with betrayed eyes.

“Coming from you!” Sam throws back and Bucky chuckles, looking back at his plate. Bucky’s pulled into a conversation with Cass about the book he’s reading but at the back of Bucky’s mind is the heat coming from Sam and how much he misses the feeling of it under his hands.

4.

All this thinking about touching Sam must have gone to Bucky’s head. Bucky’s standing behind Sam who is addressing the agents going with them to collect the chemical weapon plans and hopefully put an end to the threat. But all Bucky can think of is how hunched Sam’s back is and how he wishes he could rub the tension away by placing a palm right in the middle.

This is not the time nor the place, Bucky tells himself, trying to force what Sam is saying into his mind. But then Sam’s putting his hand on his hip and Bucky wants to walk over to stand next to him just so he can tap Sam’s waist to get him to move over. 

He doesn’t, though. He wouldn’t want a repeat of what happened with Joaquin. He doesn’t want people to get the idea that he’d be alright with just anyone touching him, and he doesn’t want to have to explain that Sam is the only one he wants to touch. All the time, it seems.

A bump to his shoulder makes Bucky look up from staring at the ground, Sam’s standing beside him now.

“You ready?” He asks

“Yeah,” he says, sighing. 

“Hopefully this is the last we’ll hear of them,” Sam smiles and places a comforting hand on Bucky’s shoulder. 

Bucky’s shoulders fall from his ears and he rolls his neck, “it’d better be.” He grumbles, forcing a scoff out of Sam.

“Is this too hard for you, old man?” He teases, and gives a slap to Bucky’s back. Bucky doesn’t grant that an answer, shooting Sam a soft glare. Bucky’s gotten used to the light feeling in his chest after Sam touches him and instead of being caught off guard by it, he now depends on it. An announcement rings out from the speakers of the helicopter and people start moving into their drop positions, Bucky’s able to use brushing past Sam as an excuse to nudge his arm and that’s all he’s willing to allow himself. Now he needs to focus on the mission.

5.

Bucky’s never been good at fishing. Sure, he can do it, but he couldn’t remember a time when he’d caught anything. So when Sam had offered for them to head out to fish, Bucky had told him as much.

“Well, I’ll just have to show you how it’s done then,” Sam had decided, “come on.”

Now they were sitting in some random body of water with their lines in, and Bucky was soaking up the breeze. He was sitting on the side of the boat, with Sam on the side across from him.

“It’s not a lot of action, is it?” Bucky mentions, causing Sam to turn to him.

“Were you expecting action?” Sam chuckles,

“No, but… “ Bucky thinks, “just didn’t realise it would be this quiet.” 

Sam frowns, “I mean, we could talk if you want?”

Bucky shakes his head, “nah, it’s… it’s a good quiet.”

It’s the right kind of quiet that doesn’t make you think. Bucky can hear birds from afar and the sound of water hitting the boat is steady. The sway from the water rocks them slightly.

Bucky makes the mistake of looking over at Sam, who’s looking out into the distance. He sees Sam’s shirt flapping slightly in the breeze, exposing the shirt underneath it and Bucky wants to place a hand there. He sees Sam turn his head to look back at the front of the boat, arching his neck, and Bucky wants to hold it and drag his fingers across his defined jaw. When Sam turns back Bucky can see his lips slightly open in concentration, they look soft and Bucky wonders what they feel like.

Sam suddenly turns to Bucky and he almost startles. Instead, his eye just twitches as his heart rate jumps.

“You’re staring again, Buck” Sam says softly as a smile reaches his face.

Bucky cracks a smile as well before he turns back to look at the water, praying his heart to calm down. 

A yelp from Sam gets Bucky to look back at him in time to see him reeling in a shiny white fish.

“Get the cooler!” He orders, making Bucky hurriedly put down his fishing rod and rush inside the cabin to grab their cooler.

“First of many, baby!” Sam says excitedly and Bucky’s face breaks out into a smile that he couldn’t stop if he wanted to. 

+1

Yet again, Bucky and Sam are alone together. Every now and then Sam checks on how the fish are cooking before leaning back against the side table where he gutted them, Bucky stands to his side. 

Night fell a little while ago and the bugs are out, their noises fill the air along with the sizzling sound of the fish.

“Our catch was pretty good today.” Sam mentions, turning over to Bucky.

Bucky laughs, “you mean yours, I caught like, one, and we had to throw it back.”

“Oh that’s right, isn’t it” Sam smirks mischievously.

Bucky pushes Sam away as he starts laughing. “Whatever,” he says, unable to stop himself from smiling yet again as Sam checks the fish.

Sam yelps in surprise and Bucky quickly looks over to see him stick his finger in his mouth.

“I burnt my damn finger.” He complains before putting his finger back in. 

Bucky nods understandingly but his eyes are trained on Sam’s mouth. He’d been distracted from thinking about them earlier but now his gaze seems to be stuck on them. Sam’s finger retracts and grazes his bottom lip, Bucky wonders what it would feel like to brush his own finger against them.

Before he’d joined the army, Bucky had his doubts about his attraction towards men. He hung around with many people who were interested in their own gender but never thought of him to be one of them until just before he got sent off to war. By then, he decided that he didn’t have time to worry about it and that he was probably just confused.

But there was nothing confusing about what he felt when he imagined kissing Sam right then and there. To feel his lips against his own made his heart beat faster but not in a scary way. Bucky imagined kissing Sam would be just like touching him; calming, soft, perfect. 

Bucky’s gaze trails away from Sam’s lips and lands on his eyes, which are looking right at him.

“I thought I was the one with the staring problem,” Bucky jokes, embarrassment creeping into his chest. 

“Maybe I get it now.” Sam mutters, his eyes moving to Bucky’s own lips.

Bucky’s heart thumps against his chest as Sam takes a step closer, his eyes not moving from Bucky’s face.

“The fish…” Bucky mutters dumbly, not sure what to do as Sam hovers his mouth over his.

“They can wait,” Sam whispers.

Bucky holds his breath, waiting for Sam to close the gap. 

“Aren’t you gonna kiss me?” Bucky mutters when he starts getting impatient.

He feels Sam’s smile when their lips finally press together.

It’s exactly how Bucky predicted, every sensation he feels from the gentle movement of their lips makes him fill with a kind of peace he’s never felt before. Even the harsh brush of their stubbles send tingles down his spine.

Sam brings a hand up to cup Bucky’s chin and Bucky almost moans. Finally, he thinks to himself and his arms move almost desperately grabbing at Sam’s waist and neck.

Sam smirks against his lips, “I didn’t think you’d be this handsy,” he laughs.

“I’m not, just with you.” Bucky mutters before going back for another kiss.

It’s a while later before they break apart, panting against each other.

“God, I’m gonna get an earful from Carlos and the guys for this.” Sam laughs to himself,

“Why?” Bucky asks, smiling as he rubs a thumb over Sam’s neck.

“They were insisting we were into each other and I kept pretending I wasn’t, and being like ‘you’re crazy!’” 

Bucky smiles, “to be fair, it took me a while to realise,” he starts, “so it wasn’t your fault. I was just a bit slow.”

“Well you are old,” Sam says.

Bucky pinches his side and Sam jumps.

“Hey! You little-” Sam cuts himself off as he sniffs the air then turns around quickly.

“Fuck-” Bucky says once he follows Sam’s gaze,

“The fish!” Sam yells and quickly takes the burnt pieces of fish off of the grill.

Bucky huffs a laugh that earns him a stern look from Sam.

“This is your fault, asshole!” Sam snaps,

Bucky gapes, “what the hell? I literally warned you about the fish!” He counters,

“Well you didn’t try to remind me or anything!” Sam shoots back as he starts cutting the charred pieces off of the fish.

“Sorry doll, I guess you’re just too distracting.” Bucky says sarcastically but the way he looks at Sam shows it really isn’t sarcastic at all.

“There’s no time for any more distractions,” Sam nudges Bucky towards the house, “go tell Sarah what you’ve done to the damn food.”

“Probably sparing some details, right?” Bucky quips before he heads out, smiling at the flustered muttering Sam does as he leaves.

That night, as they’re eating the dinner that Sarah cursed them out for messing up, Bucky finds his eyes landing on Sam, naturally. This time he doesn’t stop himself from reaching his foot out to lock with Sam’s. Sam’s hidden smile is as soft as Bucky feels; how Bucky has always felt when he touches Sam. Only, now, Bucky understands exactly why.

[kindahoping4forever]

Wanna Know That Body Like It’s Mine // Calum Hood

@cal-puddies​​​ and I once again cannot thank you all enough for clowning with us during another Hoe Hours weekend! If you haven’t yet, be sure and check out Cass’s Cal fic from yesterday (I Love The Sound, I Love The Taste) and my Ash fic (Fight So Dirty) that kicked off the event. (In addition to the bonus Cal blurb - What’s Mine Is Yours - we couldn’t help but co-write because again, we’re clowns.)

We’ve been hyped on this piece for a while - it was requested by an anon (and specifically requested we co-write, which warmed our hearts) about a month ago and while there were stops and starts, we’ve basically been working on it ever since (I swear Cass had sent me a shared doc within seconds of me sharing the request lol). We can’t wait to hear what you think so please blow up both of our inboxes!

Warnings: Boyfriend!Cal. So much smut but an equal amount of feelings. Unprotected sex in an established relationship, oral and manual stimulation of both a male and a female, semi-public sexual encounter, sex toys, rimming, pegging.

Word Count: 11,384

Cass & Crystal’s Masterlist  // Hoe Hours Masterlist

Crystal: Taglist // Ko-Fi          Cass: Taglist // Ko-Fi

Let  us  know  what  you  think!

————-

“Hey babe!” Calum calls out, letting himself in to your apartment.

He’s greeted by a fit of giggles followed by an apologetic “Sorry, Cal, we’re almost done.”

“That’s OK, pretty girl, I’m early.” He walks by the living room, offering a quick ‘hey’ to you and the friend you’re visiting with and then helps himself to your kitchen. He gets himself some water and finds something to munch on, leaning against the counter and absentmindedly scrolls his phone while he waits.

He respects your privacy so he does his best to tune out what he can hear of your conversation but he can’t help the way his ears perk up when he hears your friend use the term “pegging.” He can’t hear much beyond that and he makes a note to ask you about it later.

She leaves shortly after and you pop your head into the kitchen on your way to change into your date night outfit. “Ready in 10,” you announce.

“No rush, baby, take all the time you need,” he reassures you, still scrolling his phone.

You sidle up next to him. “Of course you say that, you’re in here spoiling your dinner,” you tease, dipping your hand into the box of crackers he’d selected and shoveling a few into your mouth.

He takes a breath to defend himself but is stopped when you slide a few crackers into his open mouth; he chuckles and presses a crummy kiss to your lips and swats at you as you leave the room.

Date night is a success: you and Calum treat yourselves to a great dinner and even greater sex. You’re cuddling in bed afterwards, talking about whatever comes to mind. There’s a brief lull in the conversation and then he asks you how your afternoon visit went.

“Oh, it was entertaining as always, you know she’s always got a story,” you laugh.

“Sounded like, you girls were really getting into it when I showed up,” he teases, kissing the top of your head as you lay on his chest. He waits a beat then continues, “Did I overhear something about pegging? I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but I was digging through the fridge and that’s the type of thing that kinda grabs the attention.”

You nod and smile against his skin. “Yeah, she was saying they’d been talking about it for a while and then he whisked her away on this big trip for her birthday last month, surprised her with all the gear and they finally did it.”

His curiosity is piqued so after about 30 seconds, when it seems like you’re not going to continue the conversation, he boldly presses, “And?”

Unfazed, you reply, “And? They loved it. Said it made her feel powerful, he came harder than she’d ever seen. Super hot, brought them closer together, all that stuff.”

“Huh,” Calum comments noncommittally. There’s another short hanging silence and then he asks, “You ever thought about that?”

“Pegging? Um... you know, it’s not really something that’s crossed my mind.” You kinda shrug and turn your head up to look at his face. “Is it something you want me to think about?”

“Maybe… I don’t know,” he ponders out loud. “I don’t think I’d be opposed... I mean, you let me do that to you.”

“Well, it was a lot of work to get me to be able to take you that way,” you remind him.

“And I think it was worth it. And you don’t seem to complain about it,” he playfully argues.

You smirk at him, “There’s nothing to complain about. I do like it, that’s why we keep doing it.”

“You make valid points,” he grins. He watches you yawn and then kisses your nose. “Get some sleep, love.”

The subject doesn’t come up again over the next few days and you think nothing of it when you receive a text from Cal asking if you want to visit the sex shop. You both enjoy incorporating toys into your sex regularly and you hadn’t treated yourselves in a while, so you respond that it’s a great idea.

You walk hand in hand into the shop and then Cal kisses your cheek and you break off to look at different things. You browse for a while and then decide to find him and see if he had anything particular in mind for this trip.

You find him in front of the wall of strap ons, harnesses and dildos and he’s looking more than a little wide-eyed.

“Hey handsome, what’d you find?” You ask, curiously peering in the direction of his eyeline.

He leans in and admits in a low voice, “After our talk the other night... I just keep thinking about it.”

“Oh... OK,” you reply, rubbing his back gently. You’re a bit surprised but immediately supportive. “So... what are we looking for?” You gesture towards the wall.

You watch as he opens his mouth a couple times to answer and then he just shuts it and walks forward, looking closer at different toys. You can immediately sense he’s overwhelmed by the choices.

You link your arm in his and press a peck to his shoulder. “I know it looks like a lot but you’ve helped me pick out toys before so you’re not totally in the dark here,” you point out. “It would just be... you know, for you this time.”

“I think that’s the intimidating part,” he comments, chewing his lip. “I don’t want to pick wrong and not enjoy it and mess up something that’s supposed to be fun for us.”

You rub his arm tenderly. “Cal, we’re talking about us, we always have fun trying things. So you don’t need to worry about that,” you say firmly, hoping your confidence will provide comfort to him. “If you want to do this, the important thing is that you’re comfortable and figuring out what you want is the first step.”

He nods and scans the wall again, taking a deep breath. “The flesh colored ones are a lot,” he says quietly. “We should get a fun color.” You smile agreeably.

“I’m not ready for balls. Just a cock,” he states, almost under his breath. You bite your lip in amusement, not wanting to discourage him.

“This is good, bubba, you’re narrowing it down,” you encourage him.

An employee sets up a ladder to the left of you to get a toy down for another couple and you see Calum’s eyes repeatedly darting over there; you’re not sure if it’s out of embarrassment at his uncertainty or curiosity in what they’ve selected.

You give him another couple minutes but he’s gone quiet and you decide to step in. “Maybe it would help if we went home and talked about it? You can look at some of my toys, feel the different textures… we can look online and filter things down?” You gently suggest. “This was a good start but it might be easier to make a decision without the pressure of being in a store.”

He exhales, you assume in relief, and puts his arm around you. “Sounds good, baby,” he agrees. You expect him to lead you out of the store but instead he walks you over to the furthest corner of the intimidating wall. “Wanted to show you this, thought it suited you for some reason.”

He points at a box containing a chic-looking red and black harness; it’s a similar style to lingerie he’s picked out for you before, with fancy lacing details over the hips and ass. Of course even when planning a sexual encounter that he’s requested, he would think of you first. You grin at him. “I love it, we should get it,” you declare.

“Yeah?” He beams excitedly, picking up the box. “It caught my eye and I couldn’t get the thought of you in it out of my mind. It says it’s adjustable for most toys and it’s crotchless.” He winks at the last part and you giggle, taking the box from him and heading to the counter.

You leave the store on a high and Cal seems really into it for a few days; next time he’s over at yours, he even asks to have a look at your toys. He feels them, wanting to understand the weight and the girth.

“I have to applaud you,” he comments, sitting on your bed, studying your collection.

“For what, bub?” You casually reply, laying on the bed, watching him.

His eyes widen as he gestures at the various shapes and sizes in front of him. “You take all of this so well… and I think about you taking my cock and… holy shit, babe, that’s not easy.”

“Well… thank you, baby,” you chuckle. “But also, we probably won’t use anything similar to your cock for you just yet,” you wink.

And then it’s forgotten. Days pass without Calum bringing it up and you don’t feel like you should, since it’s something he instigated and you don’t want to make him feel pressured.

“It’s totally fine if you’ve changed your mind on the pegging thing,” you casually say one night, sitting on the kitchen counter while he loads the dishwasher. “I just want to make sure you’re not avoiding talking to me about it because you’re afraid to.”

“Hmm?” He looks up at you. “I guess I wasn’t sure how you felt about it,” he shrugs.

“I think it’d be fucking hot, Cal, but we’re not doing it for me,” you explain. “I’m not the one who needs to make the decision here. But for the record, if you want it, I’ll be happy to do it.”

“Well then,” he smirks. “I’m about done here. Let’s go look for some toys.”

Moments later, you’re on the couch; you sit on Cal’s lap and his computer sits on yours. You pull up a couple different sites and start filtering.

“OK, so what do you think about firmness?” He gives you a questioning look in response. You smile softly. “OK so my pink one and the like, kind of clear one? Those were super soft right?” He nods. “So we’re gonna want something firmer than that. But we probably don’t want anything too hard either.”

“Right, so like a medium then?” He reaches around you to reach the touchpad, scrolling the page. “Which of these do you use?”

“Mmm, don’t have toys for my ass.” You reach down and wrap your hand around his cock through his shorts. “Only this guy and the plugs we bought.”

“Someone’s frisky,” he comments, eyes turning back to the screen.

You filter the pages, pointing out a few options, clicking across a few different sites but still haven’t removed your hand from his crotch. He lets out a loud breath through his nose. “You OK baby?” You ask sweetly.

“Yeah, I’m great. Got a pretty girl on my lap, just barely giving me a hand job through my shorts, looking at cocks to fuck me with,” he shrugs. “All while we’re sat in the living room; just a normal day.”

“Oh, if the location is an issue, we can take this to the bedroom,” you offer with a laugh.

Calum shakes his head. “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”

You turn and look him directly in the eye. “Well, I know one way you could find out for sure,” you lilt, spreading your legs a little.

“You act like I won’t,” he teases. He sticks his hand down the front of your shorts, slicking his fingers through your folds. He pulls his hand out and lifts his fingers to his mouth. “Yeah… we’re gonna wrap this up in the bedroom,” he announces.

He leads you to the bedroom and sits up on the bed, gesturing for you to sit up against him. You fit yourself in between his legs and pull the computer into your lap. “Let’s finish this up,” you murmur, looking back at him.

He agrees and you go back to searching, though every so often you shift your hips just so to hear him gasp. He points out some choices that he likes and you go find your soft tape measure to make sure he understands the girth of the cocks he’s picking. You instruct him to measure a few of your toys but “for reference” he pulls out his own cock to measure and that gets him distracted.

You see him stroking himself out of the corner of your eye but you try to stay focused on your search, opening a few more tabs to show him. You hear the familiar hiss that means he must’ve just thumbed over the head of his cock in a very particular way and you finally have to look up at him.

“What is this, hands on research?” You joke, taking a deep breath to steady yourself at the sight.  

Cal grins, closing the laptop and setting it aside. He grabs your hips to bring you face to face with him. “Think that’s enough for today,” he says deeply, nipping at your neck. “I need you.”

“I mean, it seemed like you were doing OK on your own,” you breathe as you reach for his hard cock, lightly running your fingers up the shaft.

Suddenly his mouth is on yours, kissing you with an intensity you don’t quite recognize. Melting into the kiss, your hands race his as you rid each other of your clothing and within moments you’re sitting in his lap, positioned above him, teasing his cock with your wetness.

He’s torn between wanting to whine at your teasing and wanting to tease you for being just as affected by the situation as he was so he splits the difference and moans as he grabs your hips and thrusts up into you.

You start to ride Calum at a fairly steady pace but he’s clearly determined to get you both off and get you both off fast; his hands are seemingly glued to your hips and he bounces you up and down on his cock, meeting your every movement with his own.

Neither of you say anything, letting your noises speak for you. He only lets go of you when he sees you biting your lip as you try to find the right friction; he moves one hand to grab your ass and the other he slips between your legs to find your clit.

It only takes a couple minutes from there for you both to finish in a flurry of noises. He keeps you in his lap for a moment, as you both come down. “See, pegging is already doing wonders for our sex life,” he quietly jokes, kissing your face.

The next day, you come over after work; you let yourself in and find Calum on the bed, with the websites already pulled up for you to browse together.

“I’ve been doing some thinking,” he announces as you sit next to him.

“Thinking’s good,” you chirp, kissing his cheek before resting your head on his shoulder.

“I know we didn’t find exactly what I wanted but we were only looking in the dildo section, since we already bought you that badass harness you’re gonna look so hot in,” he excitedly rambles. “SO, out of curiosity, I clicked on some of their kits and I think they could work for us.”

He clicks through a number of tabs on his browser, searching for what he wants to show you and explaining his findings to you. You’re honestly impressed by the amount of research he’s done on his own; it makes you feel good to know he’s decided to take an active role in this process, it lets you know he’s serious about it. It also makes you irredeemably horny to know he’s been sitting here alone, spending what looks like a considerable amount of time contemplating what the perfect kind of cock is for you to fuck him with. You press your legs together and try to listen to what he’s saying.

“...It comes with different sizes so that gives us some leeway on that decision - they’re all cute colors, no balls. And it says they all have the flared base so we can use our harness instead of the one it comes with,” he reports, scrolling through the website’s pictures for you to see.

He’s right; the set he’s found ticks basically every box on your shopping list. You can see why it would catch his eye: it’s equal parts arousing and unintimidating, made for a beginner like him. “Cal, this looks great,” you enthuse, reaching over to add the set to your cart. “You’re better at this than even I am, I don’t think I’ve ever picked out a toy this fast.”

“I don’t know about that,” he preens a little at your praise. “I just clicked around and once I saw this one, I started picturing you with it and… I think it’s a good choice.” His voice catches slightly and he clears it, pointing to the moderately sized royal blue dildo.

Again, your entire body feels charged thinking about Calum thinking about you, wanting you like this. You begin pressing wet kisses along his jaw and he chuckles at your eagerness. “Got a couple other things I think we should shop for, pretty girl,” he smirks, seeing you pout in his periphery.

“Oh? Let me see,” you reply, moving to snatch the computer away from him. You giggle as Cal anticipates your move and sits it beside him on the bed so he can continue searching. You sit up on your knees and continue mouthing at his jaw, neck and ears, your hands lightly moving over his chest. You take note of the way his sweatpants are beginning to tent.

“Baby,” he breathes. “I wanna show you this set of plugs… might be a good idea… we didn’t go right into having you take my cock… worked up to it.” His breathing increases every few words and you know you’ve got him when you thumb over his hardened nipple through his shirt and he shudders.

You shake your hand under his shirt to give more direct attention to his nipples while sucking on his neck. “Yeah, Cal... plugs... sounds great,” you murmur.

“What’s got you so needy today, my love?” He chuckles, grabbing the back of your head for a proper kiss.

“Something about you taking such an interest here, making an effort to get it right... I appreciate it," you mumble against his lips before pulling him in for an even deeper kiss.

“Well. Something about you taking that kind of control... seeing you strapped up and wanting me that way...” He groans. “C’mere, darlin.”

He pulls you back onto his lap; you make out hungrily and it's just as intense as the day before but not as frantic. After a few moments, your shirts are discarded and you start slightly grinding in his lap. Cal grips tight onto your hips, pulling you down a little harder. 

“Have you ever experimented before?” You ask, pulling your face away from his to gauge the answer.

Getting him to share isn't always easy so you don't expect him to answer so breezily. "Always wondered what it'd be like, dipped a finger back there a couple times but never really pushed in," he shrugs. "Felt kind of silly doing it myself. And I couldn’t ever imagine someone doing it for me until now." He smiles softly, eyes shining.

Your heart flutters at his honesty. “Should we give it a go then?” You quirk an eyebrow, smiling as well. You feel him tense for a second and you thread your fingers in his hair. “I mean, we should start trying at some point, but we can take it slow,” you explain. He stays quiet and you reassure him, “We don’t have to do this yet if you’re not ready.”

He studies your face for a second and breathes deep. "I want to… think I’m just kind of wrapping my head around it," he admits, furrowing his brow.

You melt at his conflicted expression and kiss him tenderly. "Hey, you don't have to worry, we're in this together, you know?" He nods firmly at your encouragement. "Good... luckily I know by now how to get you to relax," you tease as you kiss down his chest, palming him through his sweatpants.

He lets out a breath through his nose. “Baby.” He’s grinning, you can hear it even with your eyes closed.

You let his cock spring free and you softly kiss the tip before pulling his pants all the way off.

“You trust me, baby boy?” You ask, tugging at the band of his pants.

Cal lifts his hips. “Of course,” he offers without hesitation.

“OK. I’m gonna try something, alright?” You warn, coming back up to pay special attention to his cock.

You hear him murmur his consent as you lick up and down the sides of him and then sink your mouth down, bobbing just enough to get him nice and covered in spit. You pull off and check his face, which is watching you, fascinated; he raises his eyebrows in anticipation for what's to come, given your announcement.

You wrap your hand around his length, slowly tugging it as you mouth his balls. You gently rub your hand up and down the back of his thigh before pushing it up and very gently kissing your way down further. You gently lick over his puckered hole and wait to see how he reacts.

You hear a sharp intake of breath which you expect, what you don't expect is the way he slightly scoots his ass down closer to you. You move your tongue against his opening again, this time adding a couple swirling motions, which earn you some low groans.

You grin to yourself and repeat the action. He wraps his hand around the back of his leg, lifting it for you so you can focus your attention where he really wants it. Calum may be ready for this after all.

There’s a whimper that escapes his lips that lets you know he’s enjoying this more than he was letting on. “Tongue,” is all he says. “So good...”

You let go of his cock and slide both hands up the back of his thighs, pushing them closer to his chest.

“So pretty, babe,” you coo. He’s had you like this many times before and you can see why he likes it, the vulnerability it forces you to share. “Touch your cock,” you direct, going back to tend to his hole.

He seems entranced by the way you're making him feel, a seemingly never-ending gravelly whine pouring from his throat. After a few more flicks of your tongue, you pull back and notice his hands remain clenched at his sides.

"Cal, baby," you lightly tap his thigh. "Stroke yourself for me, handsome, I know you need it."

Calum breaks out of his daze at the sound of your voice and pulls his cock away from his stomach, where it's been laying there leaking.

You go back to work and he wraps a hand around himself; he manages two or three tugs before he lets out a guttural moan and immediately drops his cock again. "Babe... touching feels too good... don't wanna cum yet, want you to keep going," he pants.

“Oh... I’ve got a needy baby boy, huh?” You tease. You let go of his thigh and reach for his abandoned cock, lightly teasing your fingertips over it while you lap at his entrance.

You feel him relax a bit so you start to tease the tip of your tongue inside him, partly for him but mostly so you can hear his neediest whines yet.

Cal whimpers as you cup his balls and run your finger lightly on the underside of his shaft. You can see the precum pooling on his stomach.

He’s mumbling with that rasp that his voice gets only when he's feeling truly wrecked. You place a few sloppy wet kisses to that space between his hole and his balls and he shouts as his whole body jumps.

You pull back to admire him in his debauched state and the cry that leaves his lips confirms what bad shape he’s in. He lets out a breathy, “Baby, why?” followed by a begging, “Please don’t stop.”

“Just wasn’t sure if you were enjoying it,” you tease, diving back in with more enthusiasm and determination than before.

You keep one hand lightly massaging his base and it only takes a few more licks over his opening for you to feel him twitch in your grasp and to hear him groaning. His orgasm is absolutely obscene; his cock spurts rope after rope of cum over his torso, as he whines desperately, still pushing his body closer to you, urging you to keep going.

You give him what he wants and keep flicking your tongue against him over and over with the occasional dip inside until you feel him start to settle down. You move your kisses to his thighs and look up at him again.

"Cal?" You check on him.

His eyes are still screwed shut, his hand now tight around his cock, squeezing the last few drops of cum from his tip. “I’m good baby... so fuckin’ good,” he sighs. His other hand reaches out to you and his body relaxes completely. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen him so wrecked and it makes you want to do this for him even more.

You take his hand and grasp it tightly, coming up to gently stroke his lightly sweat-covered face with your other hand. "Did so good for me, bub, holy shit," you compliment him. "So hot seeing you like that, I could definitely get used to this."

He kisses your hand and then looks down at his cum covered body. “I think I could too,” he laughs euphorically.

The weekend comes and Cal lets himself into your place, as he always does; Duke comes scampering in too.

“Hi love!” You greet the dog, leaning over to pet him.

Cal grins, watching you with Duke.

“Hiya, other love.” You wrap your arms around his neck and stand on your toes to kiss him. “Listen… I went ahead and bought those toys you showed me,” you say nonchalantly as you pull away.

“Oh? Good... I forgot,” he says sheepishly. 

“Look, I haven’t been dating you for this long not to assume you wouldn’t remember after we got high and you buried your face in between my thighs like I was your last meal,” you tease, tapping his shoulder.

“And I’d do it again,” he smirks. “Especially... like… I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about your tongue every day we did that.”

“Oh? Enjoyable for you, handsome?” You chuckle.

“I mean, judging by the amount of cum you cleaned off my stomach, I'd have to say yes,” he says with wide eyes, pulling you back in to him.

It’s only a matter of time before you’re back in the bedroom. Your panties stay on but Calum is completely naked, on his back and holding his thighs up for you again. His breathing is heavy and he’s whimpering as your tongue dances over his hole.

You pull back and peer over at him. “Cal… do you wanna try something?” You ask.

“Yeah, baby, anything you want,” he rushes out.

“Babe, this is about you,” you point out patiently.

“I know… you’re right… I want it, I want it.” It’s almost panicked the way he’s whining.

You run your hands along the sides of his thighs soothingly. You reach over for the small bottle of lube you’d tucked under one of your pillows just in case and coat your fingers with it. You wrap your hand around his cock and slowly touch him, knowing he might need the distraction and then you gently tease a finger against his hole, swirling it, causing him to gasp. You wait until he relaxes and then you squeeze his shaft as you slowly start to push your finger in.

Cal lets out a breathy “Oh” like you’ve never heard and you press a kiss to his leg as you push in a little further. You continue slowly like this for a minute until his breath sputters and you feel him tightening around your finger. You pause and start to pull back but then he emits a deep “Keep going” that you can’t disagree with.

You push your finger in slowly past the resistance and then gently start moving around, looking for that one spot; you’ve done your research so you would know what to expect and what you were looking for.

He practically pries your hand off his cock. “Can’t,” he whines, desperate.

“OK, handsome,” you murmur. You kiss along his thighs and wrap your free hand around one. You work your finger a bit more, watching his body react. When he starts moving back against you, you ask, “Want another?”

“Mmm hmm,” he nods frantically, eyes closed.

You slick a bit more lube onto your second finger and start to work it in as well. “Doing so good for me, baby,” you sigh. You didn’t realize how worked up you had gotten until you hear how breathy your voice comes out. “This is so fucking hot, Cal.”

“Oh god, baby,” he cries, voice straining as your two digits move inside him. You look up at him and he’s looking right back; it’s one of the more intense moments you two have shared. He drops his head to the pillows and you watch his back arch and a slew of curse words spill from his lips. “Right. There,” he huffs.

You gently bite his thigh. “Want to see you cum for me, baby,” you coo, confident in your movements. Almost immediately, his sounds become even breathier and whinier and you see his hand fly to grasp his cock as the cum starts spurting. “There you go, baby boy,” you praise as he desperately bucks his hips. “So good, handsome.”

You pull your fingers out and Calum lays panting for a while, dazed. You press a kiss to each of his knees and move to start cleaning up. His eyes are shut but he feels you moving around the room and he reaches out to touch your arm. “I love you, baby,” he quietly rasps.

The next morning, Cal gets up just after dawn to take Duke out and never returns to bed. You find him at your kitchen table, eating a bowl of oatmeal and writing in his journal.

“Morning, bub,” you yawn, kissing the top of his head as you pass by to make yourself some breakfast. "I was thinking if it's nice out, we might take Duke to the park today?"

He gets up and takes his bowl to the sink. “Oh, uh… I was actually thinking I’d head out pretty soon,” he says apologetically. “I’ve been busy so the house is kind of a mess… there’s actually a lot I should take care of.”

“Oh. OK, yeah,” you shrug. You’re slightly surprised, you thought you were spending the day together but it’s not unlike Cal for him to put vital tasks until the last minute. “Maybe next week.”

The next few days follow a similar pattern. You ask Calum if he wants to grab dinner, he already has plans. He’s “swamped” and has to postpone your movie night. There’s still a “Good morning, pretty girl” text waiting for you when you wake up every day and a “Good night, my love” text that chimes every night when you’re brushing your teeth so you’re not too worried but you can tell something is off.

You get an email that your toy order has shipped and you send a screenshot to Cal, accompanied by the eggplant and dripping emojis. It takes him a while to reply, which is typical, but when he finally does, all you get back is “lol.” You frown. You don’t know how you expected him to respond but it was definitely not “lol.”

Your understanding of the situation starts becoming a bit clearer when you scroll up through your text thread and see that every time you’ve brought up your recent encounters, he’s either changed the subject or given an extremely short, vague response. You exhale slowly. You’re going to have to talk to him.

A hike is the least confrontational activity you can think to suggest and he agrees to meet you at your usual spot with Duke later that afternoon. They find you in the parking lot and you kneel down to show the small dog some love before you give your boyfriend a peck on the cheek.

As you’d hoped, you basically have the trail to yourselves; you walk for a bit, chatting easily about everyday things. You stop for a quick break and you decide to take a deep breath and go for it. “Kinda wanted to talk to you about something, bubba,” you start, hoping you don’t sound as uneasy as you feel.

Cal sits on a nearby bench and scoops Duke up to sit beside him. He doesn’t say anything, just looks at you, brow furrowed, dark eyes squinting in that way he does when he’s really concentrating on what you’re saying.

You sit next to them; you want to look him in the eyes but you’re weirdly nervous so you focus on petting the sweet dog who is also patiently waiting for you to make your case. “I feel like… and I could be totally wrong and please tell me if I am… but I feel like maybe you’ve been avoiding seeing me after you know… the last night we spent together,” you try to put it as delicately as possible. “And it’s fine if you didn’t like it and it’s fine if you want to stop trying the things we’ve been trying but… I need you to talk to me about it, Cal. I shouldn’t have to guess here and I’m feeling really shut out.”

He’s quiet for a minute but you know he’s going to take his time weighing his words and making sure he expresses himself clearly. Finally he quietly says, “You’re right.”

There’s another pause and you hope to ease his mind by cracking, “That’s a good start, babe, but I’m gonna need a little more.”

Calum shakes his head fondly, waits a beat, then lets it all out, both slow and rushed as only he can. “I guess I just didn’t expect… I don’t know, baby, we’ve been together a while and we’ve done a lot of shit but that’s the closest to you I’ve ever felt. Which is good like… I want that. But I just felt really… exposed?” He stares off down the trail for a few seconds, gathering his thoughts. “I’ve just never felt need like that before and I don’t think I was prepared for how it would feel to let you see me like that.”

It takes a minute for him to feel like he can meet your eyes and you can’t help but think it’s for the best, as yours are brimming with tears. You feel so deeply for him in this moment and the love you have for him overwhelms you.

“Baby,” you whisper, reaching your hand over the bench to squeeze his shoulder. “That’s a lot. And I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t talk to me? You didn’t have to deal with all that alone.”

“A bit hard to be open with someone about being embarrassed you were open with them,” he points out with a shrug.

“But Cal, that’s just it! There’s no reason to feel embarrassed, you know there’s no judgement between us, especially in bed,” you firmly insist. “And if you are feeling weird about anything, I need to know. The only way we can continue this is if you talk to me, babe, that’s just the way it’s gotta be.”

Calum nods quietly and sits Duke on his lap so he can pull you closer, placing his arm around you. You rest your head on his shoulder and say, “You have to trust me with this, bub. I’m not gonna feel comfortable doing this unless I know you can communicate with me. How can I be sure you’ll tell me if something doesn’t feel right physically if you feel awkward even telling me that your feelings are off, baby?”

He squeezes your arm. “I can do that,” he promises. “I also think I was a little afraid to make you feel bad about it. I really did like it. And I could tell you did too. It was just the after I had trouble processing.”

You lift your head up and gently turn his face to look at you. “I’ll make you a deal,” you state. “I can definitely step up my aftercare game for you. But for me, Cal, I need once and for all you to understand that this isn’t about me. I know it goes against your instincts and I love that about you but we’re doing this for your pleasure and that’s all that matters to me.”

“Deal. Although… I’m still gonna give you one hell of an orgasm when you do this for me… there’s no talking me out of that,” he smirks, lightening the mood.

You text him later that week to let him know the toys have arrived and his face immediately flashes on your screen.

“Should we get out of town?” He asks.

“We can do whatever you think is gonna be most comfortable for you, bubba,” you affirm. “I figured you’d want to do it at your place because it’s familiar territory and it’s going to be such an unfamiliar experience…”

“I know I agreed that technically this is for me but... I still feel like it’s about us…” He thinks out loud. “I dunno, part of me wants to take you away on this big romantic adventure so we can be alone together. No outside world, just our bubble.”

“I love you, baby. Whatever you want,” you say softly.

And so it’s settled. The next afternoon Calum is waiting for you on your couch when you get home from your half-day at work. He’s already packed a bag for you and he’s raring to go.

You head into your room to change and decide to check what he packed for you. You unzip the bag and to your surprise, it appears he’s thought of just about everything, including his favorite lingerie for you. The harness, the dildo set and the plugs are all accounted for and he’d even remembered your travel bag from the bathroom. You smile at his effort and head back out to him.

“Great pack job, baby, I’m all set!” You toss the bag by the door excitedly.

He grabs your hand as you walk to the door and for some reason it goes straight to your core; you’re not travelling far but you realize the drive is about to feel that much longer.

You haven’t been in the car very long when Cal starts noticing how touchy you’re being with him and about halfway through the trip, he decides to ask. “What’s with you, baby?” He asks, playfully nudging your knee.

“Nothing,” you tease. “I’m just excited! Time alone together? This is rare.”

He glances over at you and gives you a look. “You sure that’s it? Because the way you’re squeezing your thighs tells me you're excited in another way.”

“Honestly, Cal... I’d give anything to ride your face right about now,” you boldly admit and give a cheeky grin when you see his face twitch at your words.

He groans, “The absolute death of me.” Shaking his head, he quietly commands, “Undo your shorts.” You do him one better and push your shorts to the floor.

“Can’t get my mouth right now, but I’m sure my fingers will do,” he mumbles as he very quickly pushes your panties out of the way and slicks his fingers through your folds. “Oh... pretty girl,” he murmurs, pulling his fingers away to suck them into his mouth. You turn your body toward him, resting your back against the door and pulling one leg into the seat with you.

Cal steals a glance and his thumb presses to your clit, causing you to moan.

“You’re so fuckin’ wet, you naughty girl,” he teases, nudging his pointer finger inside you. “Is this how you’re gonna be all weekend?”

“Probably,” you shrug nonchalantly.

“Good,” he responds smugly. “I knew getting away would be the right choice.”

He pushes two fingers in and you grip the seat, letting out a little noise of approval. “Please, Cal!”

He knows he can’t take his eyes off the road no matter how badly he wants to look at you, so he turns down the radio so he can listen to your moans and let his imagination fill in the rest. You resituate and tilt your hips up toward him more. “Rub your clit, baby… want you to cum for me,” he growls.

You bite your lip and do as you’re asked. You moan loudly as he pushes in a third finger and his eyes somehow remain on the road. You let out a little gasp.

Calum can’t help but steal a glance. “Mmm, my pretty girl’s pretty pussy,” he licks his lips. “You’re so close, baby, I feel you squeezin’ my fingers.”

You grab onto his wrist with your free hand as his fingers continue to pump in and out of you. Your head lulls back against the window and he makes quick work of finishing you. “Yes, baby, so hot when you cum for me,” he praises.

He withdraws his fingers once you stop throbbing around them and he lifts his index finger to your lips for you to suck clean; he goes on to suck the other two.

You sit, still exposed to him, catching your breath and you eye his hard on. “Don’t even think about it, darlin’,” he warns, keeping focused on the road. “I can practically read your mind and you’re basically salivating.”

“Can’t help it if I wanna suck you off…” You say breathily, hand dancing up his thigh. “You just made me cum… makes me wanna make you cum… you knew what to expect.”

“And now I expect you to keep your hands to yourself till we get there. Just a little bit further baby,” he promises.

You huffingly adjust your clothes and see him smirking out of the corner of your eye. But he’s right and it’s not long before you’ve made it to the hotel and checked into your room. The energy between you is wild; comfortable but nervous, familiar yet unknown. You find things to do to busy yourself, knowing it’d be ridiculous for you to immediately jump into bed. Cal connects his phone to the room’s sound system to play some music, hoping to ease the tension as you both unpack

The music helps and you go from humming along to the music to singing to being goofily spun around the room by him within minutes. After a few songs, the only bag left unopened is the one containing all your toys and you stare at it for a beat.

He notices your hesitation and comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around you. “Let’s leave it for now, baby.” He nuzzles into your neck. “Sitting in the car all that time got me craving a hot shower, come join me.”

The shower (and inevitable shower sex) helps you both relax and when you’re back in the bedroom getting dressed afterwards, you bound over to the bag left on the bed.

“This is silly. Why am I nervous now that we’re here? Do you feel nervous?” You babble as you sit on the bed, unzipping the bag and dumping it out next to you.  

Cal smiles to himself and sits down next to you. He soothingly rubs a hand over your back and with the other he picks up one of the dildos, examining it. “Nah, I’m quite looking forward to getting to know our new friends,” he says lightly. He sits it down and leans in closer to you. “It’s gonna be so good, darlin’. Can’t wait for you to fill me up,” he rasps.

You suck in a breath and capture his lips in an eager kiss that’s somehow both comforting and thrilling. “I don’t know if that qualifies as a pep talk but thanks, bub,” you laugh against his skin.

The rest of the day seems to fly by; you and Calum decide over drinks that it’d probably be best to ease into things and just try out the plugs for your first night. He insists on eating you out before you even think about touching him and by the time he makes you cum, he’s whining against you.

You’re not sure what you were expecting but the plug experience goes off without a hitch. You think to yourself that you’ll never tire of seeing him spread himself for you, never tire of hearing the new type of moans he’s been letting out since you started this journey.

It doesn’t take Cal very long to get used to the smallest plug in the set and you’re surprised when he asks you if you’ll switch to the next size up. He must’ve noticed your reaction because he tells you that the past few times he’s jerked off, he’s also fingered himself, thinking about your upcoming plans. That admission leaves you throbbing and Cal has to get you off again before either of you turn in for the night.

The next morning, you awaken to the feeling of light kisses being pressed along the back of your neck and Cal pressing himself his hardening cock into your backside, warm hands rubbing over your thighs. “Morning, pretty girl,” he says with a crack, his voice not as awake as the rest of him. “Think it’s time, baby.”

It takes a few seconds for his meaning to land. “OH,” you turn and look at him with wide eyes. “Is it? Like right now? First thing in the morning?”

“Don’t wanna wait any longer, want you now,” he murmurs, kissing over your face.

You indulge him for a second before pulling back and asking, "What time even is it? It feels early."

Calum hovers over you, nibbling at your ear. "Doesn't matter, babe. Sun's out, it's a beautiful day and it's fuckin' time," he enthuses.

There's a beat as his words register with the both of you and you clamp a hand over your mouth to stifle a snort. He grins at you. "I meant that like for emphasis, like ‘It's fuckin’ time' not like I'm calling sex Fuckin’ Time," he laughs loudly, shoulders shaking the further he gets into his defense.

You cackle, tears running out of your eyes. You tease, "What does it say about me that I still want you after hearing that come out of your mouth?"

He shakes his head, breath coming out in wheezes. "You must really have it bad for me, I guess," he shrugs, eyes sparkling.

"Something like that," you giggle, drawing him in for a kiss. You nip at his mouth as you pull away. "Now, let's get what we need, baby. It's Fuckin' Time."

He hops in the shower while you evaluate the lingerie he packed for you and decide what he'd like best. You get out your gear and think to yourself how glad you are that you watched a video online about how to properly fit the harness for your body; you're so excited you're not sure you'd be able to figure it out on your own otherwise.

By the time Calum's out of the shower, you're admiring your reflection in the mirror above the dresser; you could always count on him to pick out underwear that both accentuated the things he loves most about you and made you feel great. Your hand wraps around the synthetic cock jutting proudly from your crotch; you give it a light squeeze and marvel at how the silicone is such a familiar feeling but feeling the weight of it attached to you, seeing it as part of you, knowing what you're about to do with it? All new feelings, equally jarring and thrilling.

You hear a sharp intake of breath behind you and turn to see Cal, clad only in his grey sweatpants. He walks over, eyes never wavering from you and takes your hand to spin you around so he can fully appreciate you. He lets out a soft whistle. “Gorgeous,” he praises, eyes travelling over you and landing on the royal blue dildo he chose. “A pretty cock for my pretty girl.”

He pulls you in to kiss you and you giggle against his lips as you feel him shifting, trying to find a comfortable place to situate your protruding appendage. “Is this what you have to deal with with me, baby? Jesus,” he laughs at the awkward dance.

You shrug. “I’d say it’s worth it,” you say flirtatiously as you reach down to palm him, raising an eyebrow when you feel him soft.

He runs a hand over the back of his neck like he does when he gets bashful. “I, uh, might’ve pre-gamed a little in the shower. I wanted to be sure I could make this last,” he discloses.

You smile and peck his lips. “Good boy,” you coo.

Cal steps back and eyes you for a second. “You’re feelin’ yourself, aren’t you, baby?” He grins at you.

You bite your lip and turn back to your reflection and you find yourself wrapping a hand around the dildo once again. “Actually, I kind of am,” you state with a nod.

He kisses your shoulder. “I’m feelin’ you too... now let me get you off so we can get to Fuckin’ Time,” he jokes.

You giggle as he leads you to the bed. "Always such a way with words," you tease.

Calum attempts to lay you down with him but you hold a hand up, signaling you need a moment. You reach over to the bedside table, where you’d ended up unpacking your toys, and come back up with lube and the plug he liked the night before.

“We should probably start with prepping you, handsome,” you suggest gently.

He nods in agreement and lifts up to strip off his sweatpants. He holds his knees for you, like he’s done so many times now, and waits to feel the chill of the lube against his entrance. He gasps sharply when he feels your tongue briefly brush against him instead.

“Sorry, baby boy, couldn’t help myself,” you chuckle, pressing a kiss to his inner thigh. He ends up taking the plug with even less resistance than the previous session and he beams as the praise flows from your lips.

You lay beside him and sigh as he moves above you, kissing along your neck and the tops of your breasts, murmuring about how pretty they look in the bra he picked out. You expect him to make his way in between your legs but he pulls back before he makes it there. "Think I'm gonna need you on my face, love."

You let out an excited hum as Cal gets situated next to you and squeal as he grabs you and pulls you over to straddle his face. “I knew you’d look incredible in this, baby,” he murmurs, nibbling your thigh, fingers tracing over the lace of the harness before teasing over your wetness, thanks to the crotchless center. “And anything with this type of access is A+ in my book.”

"Well, you're a man with exquisite taste," you compliment playfully.

You gasp as he licks a fat stripe up your center. "Mmm, talk about exquisite taste, darlin’,” he laughs huskily.

The lighthearted moment is short-lived as he quickly gets down to business licking you. His tongue dances along your folds, occasionally dipping inside your entrance teasingly. It always takes you a minute to feel comfortable grinding on his face but once you start rocking your hips, you're unable to stop and he grips your thighs to steady you.

“Slow down, baby, I’ve never let you down,” he murmurs. He presses up on your thighs to make room for him to push two fingers inside you.

“God, Calum.” You moan, looking down at him, tangling your fingers in his hair. “So fucking good.”

He withdraws his fingers in favor of licking up into you and you feel your eyes widen as you watch him reach up to grab the dildo and begin stroking it. You groan loudly, feeling yourself become even more turned on than you thought possible as you watch his hand move over the silicone as his mouth pleasures your pussy.

"Like how my cock feels in your hand, baby? Do you like jerking me off?" You tease, arousal emboldening you. "If it feels this good to you now, just think how much better it's gonna feel inside you."

Cal grunts into you and you swear you could cum just from that sound alone. His hand works quickly over the toy as he wraps his other around your thigh, pulling you down on his face. With his nose lightly nudging your clit, you can’t help yourself and start grinding on his face again.

“Get it, baby,” he moans. “Can’t wait to feel you in me.”

He sucks your clit in between his lips and your legs shake around his face. He releases it in favor of flicking his tongue and then lifts you up a bit, kissing along your lips as he catches his breath.

"Somethin' about seeing you like this," he breathes. "I don't know, pretty girl, it's already more than I dreamt of."

You murmur in response and he brings you back down onto his mouth. "Now I need you to cum for me."

You grip tightly into his hair, encouraging his skilled tongue to finish you off. “Oh fuuuuuuuck,” you moan loudly, leaning forward into the headboard as you cum. Cal takes his time licking around you, letting you enjoy the come down.

“Jesus Christ,” he groans, lifting you off his face. You land next to him and he sits up, immediately pulling you into a sloppy kiss. “Need you,” he states plainly, reaching for the lube and placing it in your hand. “Please, I can’t wait,” he urges.

You let out a loud breath, pleased by his eagerness. You start slicking the lube over your strap-on; Cal hurriedly lays back down on the bed; his chest rises and falls rapidly, you can tell he's both excited and nervous and you recognize that the look on his face is the one he makes when he's trying desperately not to touch himself.

You lean down and kiss him sweetly, hoping to calm him a bit. "Do you feel ready for me, baby?" You move down his body and lightly run your fingertips over his cock, playing with the precum that's sliding down the shaft as you check on the plug that's been filling him. "You take this one so well, Cal. Think you're nice and open for me."

He lets out a shaky breath, reaching to hold onto your hips for a second. “Baby,” he says quietly as you gently pull at the plug, pulling it to the widest part and letting it slide back into him.

“I’m serious, Cal, wish you could see how well you take it,” you praise, watching in amazement. “You gonna be this good for my cock? I know you want to, don’t you, baby boy?” You tease, digging your nails into his thigh.

He whimpers slightly and you watch as he attempts to collect himself, cock already twitching with anticipation, leaking onto his stomach. "Pretty girl, I'm gonna need that pretty cock in me as soon as you can, don't think I can wait much longer," he rasps

“Oh, I think you could,” you tease. “But I won’t make you.” You pull the plug out, gently squeezing his balls in your other hand. “The idea of you letting me have you like this is so hot...” You trail off as he shudders underneath you; you assume it’s from the coolness of the lube you’re rubbing over him but you suspect it partly has to do with your words as well.

You grab your cock and line yourself up, pushing the tip against his hole. “OK, Cal, remember to talk to me,” you whisper, rubbing your hands reassuringly on his thighs. You make eye contact with him as you start to push into him at an achingly slow pace, watching his face, making sure everything’s OK.

You see him puff out his cheeks and exhale slowly a couple times, trying to decipher how he feels about your intrusion. You slowly continue until you meet that resistance and you pause before going any further. "Relax, baby," you soothe. "We’ll go as slow as you need, I promise."

You start to pull out slightly and his eyes widen as he involuntarily lets out a loud moan. You halt your movements again and wait. "That was actually a good sound," he chuckles, squeezing your hand on his thigh. "It's just. Feels fuller than before. But good. Just different." He rambles, sorting through his racing thoughts.

You squeeze his hand back and smile at him. He breathes deep. "We can keep going, just slow like this," he nods to himself. "And maybe some more lube?"

“Of course, Cal, yes, this is perfect,” you enthuse. “Tell me what you want, just like we talked about. That’s what’s gonna make this good for both of us.” You encourage excitedly, working more lube onto your toy.

You feel like kissing him; you think he wants it, maybe even needs it. But you know you can’t lean in to do so, you’d push in too quickly, so you settle for kissing his knee.

He squeezes your hand again, “A little further, love,” he requests.

You do as he asks and you see him wince briefly so you back up. This decision is met with a whimper. “No, baby, in. I’m good, I promise,” he states firmly.

You take a deep breath to steady yourself and reach to play with his cock a little, hoping to give him both some relief and some distraction. He licks his lips and relaxes into your touch, allowing you to inch the toy in a bit more. "Doing so good, Cal," you comment softly.

You watch his chest breathe in and out, timing it with the slight rocking of your hips to help you enter him more and more. Calum wraps his hand around yours, helping you stroke your hand over him.

“Oh fuck.” He moans, squeezing your hand around his cock. “Like that,” he pants.

Your tactic works and he gets so caught up in the feeling of your joint efforts jerking him off that he doesn't notice you've finally worked the dildo inside him entirely. "God, Cal," you groan at the realization. "How does it feel knowing I'm buried inside you, baby?"

He shudders at your words. “Buried?” He asks, making sure he heard right. He feels you pressed all the way against him and groans. “Oh my god, baby… fuck.” He gently tugs on you, pulling you down to him. “I’m so happy we’re doing this,” he murmurs, kissing you. 

You move back to a kneeling position and gently pull your hips back; when you slowly push forward again, his mouth drops completely open and the only thing that comes out are little breathy sounds.

You feel yourself throbbing again, this is already much more intense than you anticipated. Calum's eyes are squeezed shut but you're confident if they were open, they would be glassy. "Baby boy," you warmly coo, slowly rocking your hips. "Let me see you stroke your cock, handsome."

His eyes open and he blinks rapidly, eyes focusing on you working above him. Your words finally register and his hand travels down, wrapping around his cock. "Feels so good," he murmurs, fighting the urge to speed up his hand. "Want more, baby, please give me more."

You slightly pick up the pace and mild discomfort flashes across his face but it’s quickly replaced with pleasure. You lean in and press kisses across his chest, covering the tattoos there.

“Mmm, more baby…” Calum pants, squeezing the head of his cock. “Can you... please… faster?”

You oblige and he lets out a loud whimper quickly followed by a guttural moan when you accidentally change the direction your hips hit.

“Right there... right there, GOD, right fucking there,” he chants, letting go of his cock in favor of grabbing you to help you find that spot again.

His moans go straight to your core and you feel arousal start to drip down your thighs. You can't believe how hot it is seeing him like this, witnessing him give himself over to you like this and let his guard down, telling you what he needs from you. "Makes me feel so good to give you what you want, baby," you admit in a whinier tone than you intend. "Just want my cock to please you like yours pleases me."

“It’s fucking perfect,” he chokes out.

The two of you manage to find that magic spot again and your hips hit it relentlessly once you do. Calum is breathing heavier than you’ve ever heard before and when you tease a finger down his precum soaked shaft, he yelps. “You wanna cum for me, baby boy?”

"Don’t want this to end," he confesses, voice faltering in that way you know means he's at the point of no return. "You're just fucking me so good, baby." His voice catches at the end of his sentence and he groans deep and loud as his cock starts to twitch; his hand flies towards it as the pulsing intensifies, cum shooting out in wild, strong spurts along his torso, some reaching as high as his chest tattoos. His moans seem to go on forever, as does his orgasm; you continue to drive your hips into him through it, marveling at the intensity of his release as he pumps the last drops out.

He grabs your hips when it becomes too much and you slowly pull back and out of him. “Holy fuck, baby.” He breathes in disbelief. “You... you fucked me good.”

You grin and move beside him, fingers dragging through the cum covering his chest; you lean forward to lick at the ropes decorating his tattoos and he threads his fingers in your hair, gazing at you adoringly. “How're you?” He asks, caressing your cheek.

“I loved it. But… honestly, I’m dripping, Cal,” you confess, sitting back up. “I knew that was going to be intense but like… fuck.”

He notices the sheen of wetness on your thighs and reaches out, arm heavy with exhaustion, to caress your leg. "What can we do for you, love? Anything you want, you deserve it."

You lean down to kiss him. "I feel like your mouth is making promises the rest of you can't keep, baby boy." You chuckle against his lips. "I have an idea but first help me out of this harness, I wanna be naked with you."

He helps you out of both the harness and your bra and then pulls you against his body. You put one of your legs between his and start to rock your hips against it, looking up at him for another kiss.

He nibbles at your lips before kissing them, sighing into your mouth as he feels your wetness spread on his leg. "Tell me what you need, love, want you to feel as good as I do right now."

You bite your lip and shift yourself off him, leaning over to the bedside table. "At first I thought it might've been a mistake that you packed my plug along with the set we got for you," you start, retrieving the toy and reaching for the lube. "But now I'm thinking you may be the smartest man alive."

Cal smiles broadly as he watches you slick it up and then reach behind you and start spreading some lube around your tight hole. "I know you, baby, thought you might get jealous seeing me stretched out like that," he teases.

“You do know me,” you affirm with a smirk. “Help me?” You ask, handing him the lubed plug.

He grins cheekily at you and captures you in another kiss as he works the plug in; he pushes it in a bit and then pulls it back out, making sure you feel all the stretch he knows you love.

You groan at the sensation and Cal plays with you a little more, enjoying your sounds and the way your hips are moving. "Babyyyy..." you whine and he relents, pushing the plug inside you fully and giving your ass a light tap.

"You want something else, darlin'?" He asks sweetly, reaching towards the drawer again. "Brought your vibe too. Or we've got the other dildos from my set we didn't need."

“So thoughtful, such a gentleman,” you tease, gesturing towards your small bullet vibrator. He clicks it on and starts teasing it against your clit.

You bite your lip and groan. “You’ve earned this, baby,” he declares, watching intently as you take the toy from him and start moving it on yourself.

You got so worked up from fucking him that it only takes a few minutes before you're close. "Gonna cum," you announce to no one in particular.

Calum watches as you hold the vibe against your clit waiting to fall over the edge. He moves his hand from your chest, where he'd been gently playing with your nipples, down between your thighs and plunges two fingers inside you, moving them carefully so as not to upset the position of the vibe.

“Fuck, Cal,” you moan, hips bucking against the vibe, pussy clenching around his fingers. He works you through your orgasm, encouraging you to ride his fingers and switching out the vibe on your clit for his thumb when he can tell it’s become too much.

He withdraws his fingers from you and licks them clean as you flop face down onto the bed next to him. He chuckles and runs his other hand through your hair and down your back as you come down. “You can’t possibly be more worn out than I am, pretty girl.”

You shift your head to face him. “I don’t know, baby… having you like that… kind of the hottest thing I’ve ever seen or done in my life,” you tease, eyes and voice dreamy with exhaustion.

“Well… letting you have me like that was the hottest thing I’ve ever done or seen, so I guess it’s a draw,” he responds, kissing your face as he gently removes the plug from your ass.

You curl into each other and it’s quiet for a few moments as you both take in what you just experienced. “Thank you for asking me to do this for you,” you breathe, breaking the silence. “It feels good to know you trust me like this.”

Calum kisses the top of your head. “Can’t think of a thing I wouldn’t trust you with, darlin’,” he says thoughtfully. “I love you.”

You murmur, “Love you too, baby boy.” You peck his chest and sit up, pulling on his arm. “Let’s get cleaned up and then it’s Fuckin’ Nap Time.”

He lets out of a huff of a laugh, allowing you to pull him out of bed with you. “I’m never gonna live down Fuckin’ Time, am I?”

“Think you’re just gonna have to embrace that one, bub, I’m not letting it go,” you giggle as you pull him towards the shower. “But don’t worry, I can guarantee you’re gonna be hearing that phrase a lot this weekend, you’ll have time to embrace it.”

---------------

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[supersupernaturalimagines]

Crazy to Think

Pairing - Castiel x Reader

Summary - Castiel Request: When you almost get yourself killed for Castiel, it makes him start to question everything. Does age really matter when you care that much for someone? 

Word Count - 1,856

Warnings - Canon typical violence and some language, but that’s it! 

You knew in the back of your mind that it could never work. From the moment that angels had walked into your family’s life, you had learned very quickly that they were no good. They were not the strong protectors and guardians that you had always heard they were. In fact, most of the angels that you had met so far turned out to be nothing but pricks, doing whatever it took to make their own agenda pass. They cared little about anything else. So the thought of having one of them care for you didn’t seem possible. 

Castiel wasn’t like any other angel you knew though, and that was why it had been so easy to sacrifice your life for him. 

The blade had punctured something. You were sure of that by the amount of blood that you could feel leaking through your clothes. What organ it had, you didn’t have a clue. You didn’t care much anyway. You couldn’t when Castiel was holding you in his arms, one of his hands clutching you to his chest while the other held your head upright. He was calling your name, and it took a lot of attention to focus, but you did so, for him. “You have to stay awake. I’m going to heal you.” 

“Urgh, I know, but it still hurts like hell.” You groaned, letting out a hiss of pain as Castiel pressed his hands against your wound. “Shit, Cass!” 

“Shut up and let him do it, Kid.” Dean said, dropping down beside you and glancing at Castiel. “You can fix her up?” 

“Yes, but not here. They’ve put up symbols to weaken my powers.” Castiel replied, sparing him a glance before his gaze and those gentle blue eyes focused on yours once more. “I will have to carry you, and it will hurt.” 

“Doesn’t it always?” Another groan left your lips, and you turned your head to bury it in Castiel’s shoulder. You didn’t want the man you loved and the man you considered a brother to see you cry. You never wanted to be anything less than strong for them. 

You felt a hand clasp your shoulder for a brief moment and then withdraw. You didn’t have to look to know that it was Dean. “All right, let’s get out of here as quick as possible.” 

Without another word, you felt Castiel lift you into the air. The next few minutes were a blur of pain and blackness. All you wanted to do was sleep, but you forced yourself awake by trying to remind yourself that this was probably the first and last time that Castiel would be carrying you in his arms. 

And of course, the moment you all broke free from the tree lines, demons surrounded you. “Take her and go!” Dean yelled at Castiel. 

Castiel looked torn, “but Dean -!”

“I’ve got this! Go!” Dean yelled again. 

This time, Castiel didn’t hesitate. You heard the flutter of wings, and the two of you were outside the bunker. Castiel rushed the two of you inside, placing you on the couch before bringing his hand to your abdomen. 

You had always loved watching Castiel heal people, the gentle touch he would press against their skin, the way that his eyes would close in concentration . . . knowing you were going to see him like that was one of the few things keeping you conscious. 

As soon as his hands rested once more on your injury, a warmth flowed through them into you. You closed your eyes as white hot warmth seemed to enter your body, then vanish away. After you opened your eyes, you glanced down to find your wound healed. 

Once you were better, you had expected Castiel to let go of you at once, but instead, you found him staring at you, his expression unreadable. “Cass?” You whispered, the expression on his face making your heart start to pound against your chest. 

“Why did you do that?” He asked, the slightest frown on his face. 

There wasn’t any question as to what he was referring to. You had taken a stab from an angel blade for him. A stab that could have killed you if Castiel didn’t have his grace. Thinking back on it, there hadn’t been much thought in the first place. “I . . . I did it. I didn’t think about it.” 

Castiel shook his head, the confusion clear in his eyes. “Human life is so fleeting. Barely a leaf passing in the wind, and your life has just begun. It doesn’t make sense that you would risk it for -”

“I didn’t want to live in a world without you alright? With no guarantee that you would be brought back to us.” You snapped, once again annoyed that he had brought up your age. You weren’t that much younger than Sam, yet it was something that was brought up all the time. Yes, you were young, but not that young. “I’m done losing people I love.” You said, hoping that for once he would catch the double meaning to your words. 

After several moments of staring at each other, you opened your mouth, ready to take back everything that you had said, but Castiel beat you to it. “I must go help Dean.” He said, and with the soft sound of feathers unfurling, he was gone. 

Turning over, you groaned into the pillow, embarrassed. You weren’t sure why you kept putting yourself through this pain over and over expecting a different result. 

Castiel was never going to care for you the same way that you cared for him. He was an Angel afterall. You weren’t even sure if they could be in love. 

Apparently the fight had taken more out of you than you thought, because sometime later you woke up to the sound of three familiar voices nearby.

“So what happened when you brought her back?” Sam was asking. 

“I healed her.” Castiel replied, and once again, you could hear the confusion in his words from here. 

“After that, Cass? Did she give you a big kiss of thanks? Or did you plant one on her for saving your life?” Dean asked, digging for more information. 

Castiel hesitated a moment before responding this time. “She did say that she loved me.” 

You could only assume that one of them had spit out their food, and by the hoarse sound in his voice, you figured it was Dean. “About damn time, did she blurt it out or something?” 

“Well, it wasn’t quite like that. She said she saved me because she couldn’t lose anyone else that she loved.” Castiel told the brothers. 

“That’s the same thing, Cass. So did you plant one on her then?” Dean asked. 

No he most certainly hadn’t, but you did find it a tad bit embarrassing that the whole crew seemed to know about your, not so subtle, crush on Cass. 

“I did not.” Castiel admitted. “I went back to help you.” 

“Wait . . . you left her here? Without saying anything else?” Sam spoke up in disbelief. 

“Yes . . . Was there something else I should have done?” Castiel asked. 

“You mean besides plant one on her?!” Dean questioned. 

“Dude! Stop saying that. It’s weird.” Sam interrupted, and then he focused his attention back on Cass. “You should have said something Cass. Didn’t you want to?” 

You tilted your head back towards the door, making sure you could hear every word that Castiel was about to say. “Of course I did. I just wasn’t sure if it was . . . appropriate. She is rather young.” 

“Well if you’re waiting for someone around your own age, you might be waiting a while.” Dean told him, and you couldn’t help but smirk at his response, amused that at least someone wasn’t taking that bullshit response. 

“Does it matter anyway?” Sam asked him. 

There was silence, and you waited with bated breath for Castiel’s response. “What do you mean?” 

Of course, Dean was the one to speak up. “He means if you think age is what’s standing in your way, you’re lying to yourself.” He told him. 

“And whatever you’re scared of, you should go talk to her about it.” Sam suggested, and it sounded like someone clapped Castiel on the shoulder. 

Then there was silence, and you turned back as fast as you could to the position you had woken up in, afraid one of them would walk in and realize you had eavesdropped on their whole conversation. Sure enough, you felt footsteps heading straight towards you, and tried to deepen your breathing, but you tried too hard. 

Castiel said your name without any attempt of being quiet. “I know you are awake. Normally when you sleep, your heart rate is much lower.” He told you. 

You felt the heat rising to your face as you opened your eyes, embarrassed at being caught. “How long have you known I was awake?” You asked. 

“As soon as you woke up.” He responded, as if surprised by your question. “I assume you heard everything?” When you nodded, he gestured to the other end of the couch. “May I?” 

Nodding, you sat up and moved your feet so that he could sit down beside you. “Is Sam right . . . or is it the age thing?” You asked after being unable to take the silence for a second longer. 

Castiel still made you wait, his eyes on his hands as he wrung them for a few moments. Finally though, he looked up at you, a soft expression on his face. “I suppose it’s both. Your life is so fleeting, even if you are younger. I don’t want you to waste it on unknowns with me, no matter how I might feel about you.” 

You leaned forward onto your knees, desperate for the answer to your next question. “How do you feel about me, Castiel? If we were two regular people, angels, whatever . . . How would you feel?” 

His eyes drifted down to your lips for a moment, then made their way back up to yours. “I care for you deeply. A lot more than I should, and if we were two regular people . . . I would not be questioning what I wanted.” 

Your heart must have leapt out of your chest at his words. For so long you had been sure that there was no way that Castiel could feel the same way for you that you felt for him. Now, here he was, confessing that he, in fact, did. “Castiel . . .” You leaned forward to close the small distance between the two of you. 

But he stopped you, his hand resting on your cheek and caressing your skin with his thumb. “But we are not two regular people . . . and I can’t risk putting you in any more danger than you already are, because that’s what being with me would lead to. Danger.” 

Your heart, that had been so high moments ago, crashed back into your chest with blinding pain. You leaned back, away from his touch. “That’s not -”

“I must go.” Before you could even say another word, he was gone. 

And you were left . . . with nothing but a broken heart.

[starkovsnesta]

It's like the fire (replaced all the love)

Summary: "When they crumble, they're not facing each other. Both of them have their gaze set ahead. The hands they have placed on the couch are mere centimeters away, not touching. There's silence in the room. None of them talks for a long time. Even in these circumstances, stubbornness and pride triumphs over their hearts. And maybe the way they break apart should be an indication on how they weren't really meant to be together, Nesta thinks."

Relationship: Nesta Archeron/Cassian

Tags: Angst, Break Up, Healing

Chapter 1 - such a burden, this flame on my chest

read on ao3

When they crumble, they're not facing each other. Both of them have their gaze set ahead. The hands they have placed on the couch are mere centimeters away, not touching. There's silence in the room. None of them talks for a long time. Even in these circumstances, stubbornness and pride triumphs over their hearts. And maybe the way they break apart should be an indication on how they weren't really meant to be together, Nesta thinks. 

She hears Cassian mumbling a curse and she feels his head turning towards her. 

"You promised you'd stop drinking" he whispers. 

And because Nesta always let's her rage talk in her place, she replies "and you promised you wouldn't hurt me". 

It isn't really his fault she is hurt, she knows. He has done nothing wrong. 

It all happened hours before. They were at some party. His friends were there, her sisters were there. Everybody seemed to be having a good time. But not Nesta. She had woken up without energy that morning. It was nothing new, but it pissed her off. She had gone to work, not talking to anyone. Cassian had sent some messages, he had even called. But she had ignored him. She wasn't mad at him, she just didn't want to talk to him. He would notice something was off, he would get worried and ask if something happened, not believing her when she said she felt that way with no reason. And how could she explain? So she let her phone ring. When she came home, he was there. His face was pale, and he was pacing on her porch. They had a fight. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say that Cassian screamed at her, trying to calm down even as she kept ignoring him. They had just be quiet for a moment, and then decided to let it drop to go to a stupid party where Cassian's friends were waiting. 

When they arrived at the club, Nesta just sat down on a table, not interested in having any kind of human interaction. She had come just for him, because she felt guilty about ignoring him and making him worry for the hundredth time. But he didn't sit next to her. 

She had seen him dancing and talking to Morrigan, she had seen him laughing with her. The woman's hand placed on his knee like it belonged there. And maybe because she's always been jealous of the bright woman, maybe because she's always felt unworthy of Cassian's love, or maybe because she knows his friends would prefer seeing him with Mor, and they've never been very subtle about it, maybe because of all these reasons, she'd felt hurt. And she started drinking. She knows now it wasn't a smart thing to do, if not for the fact that she received judgemental glances  from those around her, people who feel morally superior to her. Her sisters among them.

Cassian now let's out an exasperated sigh.

"I don't know how many times I have to tell you that there's nothing but friendship between me and Mor" he says. He tries to reach for her hand, but she pulls away. 

She knows she's hurting him. 

But she can't stop. She shifts her glacial eyes on him. "I don't believe you". 

The way his eyes close for a brief second, as if to gather some control, make her rage burn. 

When he opens them again, though, there's nothing but resignation. The same feeling that transpires when he murmurs "I love you, Nesta". Softly, as a caress. But it's received as a slap. It's not the first time he's said it. It's the first time she really doesn't know what to do with it. He loves her. But she's still hurt. She's still full of anger, she still has nightmares at night. She still thinks of alcohol and tries to drink herself to death almost every week, consciously or not. She still doesn't know how to love him back, because there isn't much place for love inside of her. There's only fire. She shouldn't have promised to stop drinking, because she knew she couldn't. She only did to make him quiet. She doesn't like when Cassian coddles her. Sometimes his way of caring for her makes her feel more of a broken doll than she already does. 

She comes to a realization, then and there: his love is not the thing she wants the most right now. 

That's why, after not managing to keep a tear from falling on her cheek, she replies "That's not enough". 

And that's how they fall apart. 

--------

They don't really see each other for months. Cassian tells himself that it is a good thing. He needs to move on. But he can't lie to himself too much. 

Not when he drinks almost every night to avoid thinking about her. It's ironic, he reflects, how he reaches for the same destruction that he didn't want her to reach for. Alcohol is the only solution he knows to his problems. He doesn't  talk to his friends about Nesta, and they don't ask questions. He's not sure if they're trying to give him space and time, or if they don't really care about the break up. They have always disliked Nesta, anyway. When they first started dating, his group of friends kept joking about it, like it was some sort of prank he was pulling on them. 

When he said he loved her, Rhysand just burst out laughing, shaking his head in delight. Cassian had decided not to be mad about it. They were his family. He knew they loved him, they were just a little bit overprotective. And Feyre, Rhysand's girlfriend, has never had a good relationship with her eldest sister. Maybe she told him not very pleasant anecdotes about her. Rhysand doesn't like anyone that has ever hurt Feyre. He's protective of her. 

Cassian had justified his behavior over and over. 

They hadn't said anything when he had come to a party hand in hand with Nesta for the first time. She was worried his friends wouldn't like her. She had told him so before coming out of the bathroom, her eyes read and her cheeks wet. "You shouldn't let them see you with me, Cass". But he had hugged her and comforted her, sure that this was just a silly worry and that his friends would support him no matter what. That night, everybody had ignored Nesta. He hadn't missed the glance Mor had sent him, though. As if he had betrayed her. Nesta was too smart to miss it too. 

And now, as things have fallen apart, he is asking himself over and over again: why the hell did he keep trying to unite the two parts? He wanted his friends and family to have second thoughts on Nesta. He wanted them to see her as he did. This spectacular, fierce, fucking complicated woman that had stolen his heart completely. 

Rhys and Azriel always accompany him to clubs now. Standing by his side, trying to joke. He doesn't always listen. Although he pretends he does. He even fakes smiles sometimes. It's only when they suggest he should start seeing another woman that he decides to stop drinking with them. And with time, he even sees them less. It's only when they present themselves at his apartment, asking for an explanation, that he realizes how angry he is at them.

For never supporting him, for always criticizing Nesta, for being happy they are apart, for never helping her. And he is mad at himself too. Especially for the last part.

That's why he explodes in front of them, letting his mouth scream out all the pain he feels inside, while his mind stays unbearably quiet except for a single sentence that keeps being repeated as a chant:

Not enough. Not enough. Not enough. 

---------

November 23

I don't know how to start this. Honestly, I don't even know why I'm writing to you at all. With how we left things, I guess you wouldn't want to ever hear from me again. And yet, here I am. 

Maybe I'll never send this letter. Or maybe I will and pretend I didn't. That's funny, isn't it? I always face problems in that way. I do things and then ignore them until I forget, or better, until others forget about them. I hope against all hope, cause I know you won't forget the shit I did to you. I know you regret putting up with me. I know you regret knowing me. And loving me. How could you love me? I always ask myself that question, and I guess now I'm asking you too. 

How could you fall in love for a wrecked thing like me? 

Do you remember when we met the first time? I was drunk. Of course. I must have said something rude, I don't remember the details, but I recall how you picked a fight. Because you love to do that. And I remember thinking about you the next day. Like, not in a positive way actually. But I thought about you. Because I couldn't ignore you. 

This is my way of saying that, from the beginning, you made place inside me (yes, I'm serving you a dirty joke on a silver plate, I know).

You're gone now. I mean, not like gone gone. I mean gone from my life, because you're not with me. And I guess, despite everything, I admit I miss it. I miss you. A lot. I'm not good with feelings, but I thought I was getting better while you were next to me. You make me feel safe. And that is what scares me the most, you know? I've never known a safety that would last. All the safe places in my life crumbled like castles of glass, and I guess they made so much noise inside of me that everytime I get near something similar again my first reaction is to cover my ears, not to listen. I run away from good things. You used to tell me that when we fought, do you remember? I think you do. You're right. I do. Because if I don't, the good things will capture me into their grip and I will be so caught up in the trap that I won't notice how it's suffocating me. I do want to be happy. It seems like I don't, but I really do. I just don't know how to be happy without being scared. And you terrify me. You really do. Because, and I think it's safe for me to say it now, you made me taste real happiness for the first time. 

It's a pity I will never deserve you. 

But you will be happy, you will find somebody else, I promise. I just hope you won't be too happy. It sounds selfish. I just mean I wish you won't be too happy to think about me, even if you hate me. I would prefer you'd keep hating me instead of not thinking of me at all. Don't forget me. Because I promise, I will never forget you. 

Yours (in more ways than you know), 

Nesta. 

-----

November 30

Nesta, 

I don't think I could ever forget you. You are like a drug I can't stop myself from taking, even though it hurts me. You hurt me. I won't pretend you didn't. I won't tell you sweet shit and give you my forgiveness or whatever. At least not yet. But I know I fucked up too. Maybe we are just wrong for each other. 

Shit, the mere thought makes me cry. That's also because I'm a little drunk. I miss you like hell. I even miss our fights, although they were so fucked up. We are so fucked up. But I really hoped we could work out either way. I hoped we would overcome these obstacles with our love and other romantic shit like that. I know it's ridiculous now. I won't forget you, Nes. I wish I could. I wish I could say that I'll get over you soon, that I'll be better, that I won't think about you anymore. I can't. I won't. I don't really want to. It's pathetic but this pain I feel is the only connection I have to you now, and I don't want to lose that. 

I love you. In my own fucked up way. And I know you loved me too. You're not good at saying it, or showing it. But I know you did. Or maybe I'm just kidding myself. 

Anyways, I hope you'll find a way to happiness one day. I'll be there when you do. 

Yours (but you already know it), 

Cassian. 

[preciousthingsareprecious]

Finding Us chapter 23

At last I have managed to sort out this latest chapter, and I am now presenting it to you fine readers! I hope you guys enjoy it! This one's featuring Jason and a round table "Ah ha!" kind of moment.

AO3 Link

~

“Are you planning to stay there all day?” Bruce asked, as Jason dropped a sky blue pencil and replaced it with a green one.

Jason looked up from his place on the training mats and grinned at his dad, “Yep.” he answered, popping the ‘P’, “I did ask you if you wanted to join, and you said you were busy.”

Currently, he was laying across the training mats on his stomach. His new coloring book thanks to Cass and Tim was splayed out in front of him. He’d filled in random parts of a page as he picked and chose colors in a dance of chaos he was sure would have Damian’s hair on end if the kid had been watching him.

He was doing his best not to get kicked out. But from Bruce’s tone, and almost constant swivel between Jason and the computer’s loading screen Jason figured his luck was running thin. So far though, Jason had been immune to Bruce’s ability to shoo every other one of his children out of the cave.

They had a truce and a tiny part of Jason’s mind was interested in seeing how far he could push his dad’s patience. Another part of him --the part that had brought him downstairs in the first place-- just wanted to make sure Bruce wasn’t pushing himself too hard. There was really no reason for B to have planted himself in front of the computer other than because he was punishing himself. For missing the signs Tim was being stalked, for just not keeping a close enough eye on his sons, or for a hundred other things Jason could think of.

“You are still welcome to color in a picture of a teddy bear, or a swear word that has all the important letters turned into symbols, which really? Is a waste of a perfectly good swear word.”

Bruce snorted. Jason counted that as a win.

Jason shifted a bit, and pushed himself a little higher on his elbows watching Bruce, “You know, sitting there won’t change the wait time the computer gave you.”

“I’m working.”

“On what?”

Bruce grunted and shrugged his shoulders at the computer. The message was clear: Stuff. Things. Batman related work.

Jason rolled his eyes and threw his green colored pencil at his dad. It clattered to the ground about halfway between them. He hadn’t expected it to land, and really didn’t know why he’d thrown it in the first place.

“Jason.” Bruce’s tone was long-suffering. A father pushed almost to his limit.

“ Dad .” Jason said, pushing a little further.

This, at last, got Bruce to look over at him. Jason wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to the way Bruce looked at him when he called him Dad now. When he’d been a kid Bruce would look warm, happy, kind of like Jason felt whenever Damian or Tim decided to lean on him.

Now, he looked a bit like a deer caught in headlights. Like he still couldn’t believe he’d heard that word from Jason. Like he’d just found his son again. And honestly? Jason didn’t blame him for the surprise. He hadn’t been sure they’d ever get here either. But after their talk in the study Jason was trying it out more and more. And it felt good. Right. Like home.

The surprise faded after a moment as Bruce’s face softened, letting in that breath of warmth he’d used to have.

“Join me, and let the computer do its job. No one will blame you for moving a few feet away for half an hour. No one blames you for missing what Timbo was so obviously trying to hide.”

“I am not going to lay on the floor.”

Jason grinned, “I’d be happy to move to a table.”

He shifted the coloring supplies to one of the work tables, his elbows and knees grateful for the reprieve from laying on the floor. Jason shoved the fallen green pencil in Bruce’s hand and left his dad to start working on a page of his choice while he made some tea on the cave’s little stove. No need to call Alfred down for something they had all the supplies for down here.

Bruce’s shoulders had just started to relax when the computer beeped indicating it was done running whatever program Bruce had set it to work on. The next instant, B was up from the table, pencil clattering onto the forgotten book and striding over to the computer.

Jason was a few steps behind him, his stomach churning. On the screen, Bruce had pulled up an image of a man who looked remarkably like Damian’s sketch. The kid was really good. As Jason took in the man’s face, his fists curled. The stalker or not, this guy was at the very least in cahoots with the person bothering Tim, and for that Jason wanted to take him down a peg or two.

“Get the others.” Bruce said, “I’m pulling up known associates now.”

Bruce didn’t have to tell Jason twice. He spun on his heel and made his way back up to the manor. He caught Dick hovering by the entrance and sent him down straight away. Then found Cass and Steph with Alfred playing cards. It took him longer to find Tim and Damian. He’d assumed both would be brooding in their rooms and came up short when he didn’t find either of them there.

Tim’s laptop was gone from his room, and so Jason assumed the kid would have probably moved to work on it somewhere else in the house. He went for the library first and cheered internally at his good luck. Both boys were together.

“Hey Short Stacks, we figured out who Dames met earlier. B wants everyone downstairs.”

Both boys looked at each other and then back at Jason, nodding.

“Excellent. It seems everything is beginning to coalesce.” Damian said, standing.

Tim looked at his laptop for a long moment, as if trying to decide if he wanted to take it or leave it. He settled on leaving it, and soon followed Damian around the desk.

“Did he say who it was?” he asked.

Jason herded them out the door, “I didn’t memorize the guy’s name. Besides, B had already moved on to looking up his partners. Hopefully you’ll spot someone you know.”

He paused and added, “Not that I’m hoping it’s a friend of yours or anything--you know what I mean.”

His brother waved off his concern, “I get it. We’ll find him a lot faster if I can give one of the associates an I.D.”

When the three of them made it down to the cave, they walked into a room full of chatter. Someone had dragged a few chairs over to rest by the computer. Alfred was planted in one, with Steph in another. Cass was perched on the desk by the computer, and Dick was leaned against Bruce’s chair. The big man himself hadn’t seemed to have moved from where Jason had left him.

Tim crowded up next to Dick, with Jason following close behind. He noted that Damian was hanging back just a bit. Probably because he’d already seen the guy in the flesh.

“Alright, we’re all here. Spill the beans, B-man.” Jason said.

Bruce grunted, but then after a moment he began to speak, “The man Damian met is named Mark Sherman. He’s got a criminal record, mostly for low level stuff, no stalking or kidnapping on his sheet though.”

After a few clicks the man's image was back up on the computer for everyone to see. Below his name, Jason could read his basic criminal history, and some general information about him like his age and height. He didn't seem like the worst that could come out of Gotham. Definitely someone who would hand over a creepy letter for enough money though.

“That is the man I saw.” Damian confirmed, with a sharp nod.

Bruce clicked something else on the computer. “Here’s the list of his known associates. I’ve narrowed it down to the most likely suspects. Tim, or any of you, let me know if they seem familiar.”

Jason watched carefully as six men and women’s images showed up on the screen. After less than a minute Dick, Tim, and Stephanie all three pointed at one of the men on the screen.

“Harry Ferst.” Dick said.

“But wait, he currently works for Wayne Enterprises.” Stephanie said, finger shifting down to aim at the information listed under his name, “What’s he got against Tim?”

All eyes turned to their second youngest.

“It might not be him?” Tim shrugged, “He could be another guy working with--” he sighed, “It’s probably him, but I can’t remember why he’d be so mad at me he’d stalk and threaten me.”

“Think harder, then.” Damian snapped, “You must have done something to incur his wrath.”

“Like I did something to incur yours when you arrived?” Tim shot back.

Jason expected Damian to return another volley, instead his mouth shut and he crossed his arms. He turned to glare at the computer screen.

“What does the man’s reason even matter? He is worth checking out at the very least. If he is not Drake’s stalker then he may be another lead.”

Tim snapped his fingers, “That’s it! He was up for promotion, back when Bruce was lost in the timestream. Except I was taking over certain things back then and more than one application was denied in all the restructuring. If he feels like his work doesn’t matter, and sees it as my fault--”

“That could be the source of his anger.” Jason nodded, “Especially if he was banking on that promotion or if he’s been passed up even more times after that.”

It made sense, Bruce had been the source of the same type of anger often enough, Lucius Fox too, and really anyone with any high ranking at the company. Tim mixing things up while Bruce had been gone was totally enough to put a target on him, one that would flare up into blame if something else incited Harry’s anger.

Bruce nodded, “I agree.”

Jason blinked, having almost forgotten the man was there. Bruce had let them sort it out together, which was nice. And looking at him now, Jason knew the man had already figured out the same things they had, but he was proud all the same. That stupid quirk of his mouth proved just that.

“So, who gets to go after him?” Jason asked.

“I--” Tim spoke up only to be interrupted by Bruce.

“You are staying home.”

Tim glowered at him and crossed his arms, “I’d like to go after the guy who’s been stalking me.”

“And we’d like you to stay safe.” Dick pointed out.

“I’ll be Red Robin!” Tim argued, “He’s not going to see me and go ‘Oh look Tim Drake my arch nemesis who’s also apparently a super hero!”

Jason snorted and crossed his arms, “I think we all want a piece of the guy who's been stalking one of our own. Unfortunately, he’s not exactly the type that really needs the whole family to take him down. I think our energies are best spread out.”

“Jason’s right.” Bruce said.

“Oh?” Jason perked up, “Are the cameras recording this because a miracle has occurred!”

Bruce ignored him and continued, “Dick and I are going to take care of Ferst. Jason you’ll be back up in case we need you, but until then I want you back on reconnecting with your Alkali contacts. Girls, I’d like you patrolling close in the area. Damian--”

“I will stay behind.” Damian said.

Jason dropped his arms, “What?”

There had to be some trick to it. Damian didn’t just stay behind. Ever.

The kid rolled his eyes, “You wish someone to keep an eye on Drake correct? He will stay because he does not wish to face Father’s wrath if I am caught sneaking out and I will stay because I do not wish the same if he is.”

The room was staring at Damian now.

“What?” he glared, “I am not an idiot. I know the way this family works, and I know my own tendencies. It was the obvious decision.”

Jason laughed, “Kid’s got a point.”

“Fine.” Tim declared, “You all win. Damian and I will stay here and be useless .”

“You’re not going to be useless,” Bruce said, sounding tired, “Barbara told me you’d been working on decrypting Alkali files. I want you to keep working on that.”

“You have been spearheading that part of the project.” Dick pointed out, “It’d be a shame if someone else figured it out before you did.”

Tim and Damian looked at each other. It was a brief glance, one that neither seemed to realize they’d even done. Jason frowned, cataloging it with their weird reluctance from earlier. Something felt off about it, but he couldn't quite place what it was.

Then Tim was shrugging, “You all will let me know the moment you’ve got the guy right?”

“Of course.” Dick nodded.

“Right then.” Tim said, “Let’s all get to it.”

[fancyfade]

so ive been debating editing chapter 3 on my fanfic to make 1 scene line up more from canon. (chapter 3 is this one, where the characters deal with the aftermath of battle for the cowl, Tim finds out Damian’s Robin, and Dick and Damian move to the penthouse)

I’m debating making the Tim finding out Damian’s Robin scene a little more canon compliant along what happened in Red Robin (link) for a few reasons, the main of which is in the scenes that I’m writing next (like... chapter 47 lol), Tim and Dick do have to talk about what transpired when Dick made Damian Robin. Potential reasons for change

In my fic Tim kind of just left on his own without a push, but I’m not sure if Tim would have left on such bad terms if there wasn’t the complication of Damian antagonizing him and him feeling as if Dick was picking Damian over him (even though in the comic we saw Dick trying to de-escalate and get Tim’s back, it still felt that way to Tim)

I dislike the way some of this was handled in the comic and I can’t really comment on it in my fic if I just retcon it out

it seems fair-er I guess if Tim is allowed to have flaws just like Cass and Damian and Dick all have flaws in this fic. i know many tim stans think otherwise, but punching a ten-year-old victim of child abuse in the face out of anger is wrong.

the con side is obviously this involves Damian getting hit and that kid has been through so much already. I’m really trying to figure out how it works with character dynamics vs like. give the poor kid a break-ness.

anyway if I did decide to replace the current chapter 3, this is what it would be replaced with (only the first scene, the second would be the same). If you are a reader of the fic feel free to leave your comments. I would do an “oh and I edited chapter 3″ note before the relevant stuff was mentioned if I go through with this, I wouldn’t like expect everyone to know what happened. Some of the dialogue is not like exactly like in canon (cuz thats boring and also to match with what I wrote the first time) but the feeling/ beats should be similar

Gotham’s finally had a bit of lull in the violence, and Dick is just wondering how he’s going to do this.

He’s accepted that Damian’s his responsibility – seeing the kid shot in the chest made that perfectly clear, as much as he would’ve liked it to be otherwise. He felt like he was way too young to be watching out for a kid in any capacity other than cool older brother, especially a kid who’s as difficult to get along with as Damian. He was a great fighter, of course, and he knew it – Dick’s not sure he’s ever heard the kid be humble about anything. To make things worse, Dick feels like he’s constantly stuck in the middle between Damian and the kid he actually views as his younger brother – Tim, who Damian tried to kill. Evidence in point:

“Robin?!” Tim asks once he’s gotten back on his feet and Dick's explained his plan – away from Damian, who's still recovering from surgery.

“You made Damian Robin?!” Tim asks again.

Dick sighs. He’s in the cave, in a Batman costume he feels doesn’t fit right at all with the cowl off, and Tim’s still in his regular clothes. He has no idea how to explain this to Tim – no idea how to make him feel like he’s not being replaced. Dick never wanted to be the one doing the replacing – he remembers how much it hurt to find out that Jason was Robin from the papers, and that was after he officially stopped being Robin. Tim never quit – and Dick’s not about to make him – but he has to come home to the guy who tried to kill him getting his name.

“Tim, I know this looks bad, but Damian needs this.”

“Remember when we thought Bruce was going to retire after Crisis?” Tim asks. “Batman and Robin was supposed to be us. You and me. Not you and the psychopath that tried to kill me.”

“Tim, you’re not my sidekick, you’re my partner – ” Dick takes a step towards Tim with his hand out, prepared to offer sympathy, but Tim shakes him off angrily.

“Obviously not!”

“And Damian needs me way more than you do. If we don’t keep an eye on him, he’s going to kill again.”

Tim scowls intensely. “That should really not be an endorsement for being Robin, Dick! He’s a killer! He belongs in jail!” Tim swallows a little and then lowers his voice out of shouting range. “Dick, he didn’t try to kill me because he for some reason thought it was the only way to stop me from doing something bad, as far as I can tell he just wanted to replace me. We’re talking about someone with absolutely no sense of right or wrong.”

“Of course he doesn’t have a sense of right or wrong. He’s a ten-year-old child who was raised as an assassin from birth!”

“Lots of our villains have really sad or sympathetic reasons for doing crime, that doesn’t mean we team up with them.”

“Are you serious?” Dick asks. “This isn’t the same, Tim.”

“How not?”

“Well for one,” calls Damian's voice from the stairs, and Dick can't help but cringe and think not now – “I'm a lot better than them.”

Dick's cringe only intensifies when he turns around to see what Damian is wearing. His new Robin costume.

Tim's hands clench into fists the instant he sees Damian. Dick knows he has to de-escalate things quick before Tim and Damian have another fight.

“Damian,” Dick says, trying to keep himself carefully neutral-sounding. “Shouldn't you be resting?”

Damian lifts his head up slightly so his nose is in the air, and walks down the stairs almost normally. There's only a little hesitation in the twist of his torso, a little stiffness of his right arm.

Either he's zoned out of his mind on painkillers or depressingly good at masking his pain for a ten-year-old.

“Please,” Damian says. “I was trained in the League of Shadows. Do you really think an over-the-hill ex-Robin could put me down?”

Tim's fist clenches further, and so Dick says, letting a bit more urgency slip into his voice, “Damian, shut up. Now.”

Damian puts his left hand on his hips and looks intentionally at Tim. He adds, “I'm not Drake – ”

He's barely got the word out before Tim leaps forward and punches him in the face. Dick's out of his seat, grabbing Tim to hold him back, who is still distressingly struggling against him, like he wants to keep up the assault despite the fact that Damian fell to the floor.

“My name is Tim Wayne!” Tim shouts as Dick is still holding him back.

Damian gingerly sits up. Dick prepares to release Tim, prepares to stop Damian if he has to, if he decides to get revenge. But he doesn't. He just briefly braces his right side with his left hand before wiping the blood off his face.

“I let you get that shot in, Drake,” Damian says, again dropping intentional emphasis on Tim's original last name.

As he does, Tim struggles forward.

“Tim, back off!” Dick says, because Tim still isn't cooling down –

“I want you to feel good about yourself,” Damian continues.

Tim seems to relax his stance slightly, so Dick, possibly in an error of judgment, lets Tim go. But Tim doesn't try to attack Damian again, he just shakes Dick off and starts stomping away. “You want me to back off? Fine.”

He's going for the exit.

If he leaves –

Dick can't chase him. He's not sure that he can leave Damian alone –

“Tim, wait!” Dick says, taking a step forward. “Bruce is gone. But I still need you.”

“For what?” asks Damian and damn it is there anything this kid isn't going to try to ruin?

“Shut up, Damian,” Dick says again, even though as far as he knows he's just going to wind up pushing Damian away too –

And Tim leaves.

Dick turns to look at Damian. The kid's already back to his feet, like nothing happened, and Dick takes a step forward to inspect the injury – though he's really more worried about the gunshot wound than Tim's punch. Both Tim and Damian had wound up injured pretty badly during the chaos that gripped Gotham in the rumors of Batman’s death. As his new and not-improved version of Batman, Jason had tried to kill them both, which Dick is way less than pleased about. He’d been kind of hoping that they could talk Jason down, but this seems like a line he doesn’t know if Jason can ever un-cross. He shot a ten year old in the chest.

Damian grabs Dick's wrist as he reaches out.

“Are you all right?” Dick asks.

Damian scoffs. “You're worried about Drake? I've been hit harder sparring my mother.”

“I was thinking about the gunshot.” Alfred had said the primary damage was blood loss and a punctured lung (well, traumatic pneumothorax, but Dick knew what he meant) and given the kid a minimum of four weeks downtime to heal.

It's hard to tell due to the domino mask, but Damian adopts the position of a kid who's rolling their eyes, head slightly tilted to the side with a loll. “It's not enough to impersonate Batman, now you want to impersonate my mother?”

Dick doesn't know how to approach the mother thing, so he doesn't even try. He just explains the logic for being Batman – (and there is logic behind it. It's not like he wanted this). “Someone has to step up and convince Gotham things can get back to normal,” Dick says. “And serial killer Batman wasn't going to cut it.”

“Did you at least take care of him?” Damian asks.

Dick knows that Damian isn't actually worried about Jason's wellbeing, so he says, “Do you mean 'did I kill him'?”

“Tt. Obviously.”

“Obviously not.”

Damian presses his lips together in a thin line.

Dick might as well get this out of the way now. He's going to have to sometime. “Alfred wants you out of the field for four weeks.”

“That's preposterous!” Damian shouts, and as he shouts, he coughs. He rubs his chest quickly and then glowers at Dick when he sees him staring.

“Damian, you could have died.”

“I didn’t.”

Jeez, doesn’t this kid have any sense of his own mortality? Though, Dick supposes, growing up around Lazarus Pits and a centuries old grandfather might make that impossible.

“I’m not a fool, Grayson, I know I’m not capable of healing instantaneously. I’ll take a break for one week,” he offers, like it’s a huge concession on his part.

“Four weeks,” Dick says.

“What about you?” Damian asks. “Didn’t you get injured?”

“Not as badly.”

“Are you taking a break?”

“Someone needs to convince Gotham that Batman’s not dead,” Dick says. Also, he doesn’t want to take a break. He doesn’t want to be alone with his thoughts. Losing Bruce. Failing Tim.

“Tt. Then I don’t need one either. I’m younger. I heal faster.”

Dick actually has no clue whether that’s true, because he’s not a doctor, but he knows that people usually say kids heal faster.

Dick swings his arms a little, trying to feel them out. They’re still stiff, and as they move, a jolt of pain shoots through him. Even when he’s not moving, his shoulder is still sore. He knows that he might get injured going into the field like this and that it’s not a smart decision – last time he went into the field while still healing, he wound up blowing his secret identity to Blockbuster.

He decides that at least if he’s going into the field, he won’t tell Barbara and Alfred about it. Okay, so that’s probably not the smartest of his plans. Most plans that you have to hide from people who care about you aren't smart.

“I’ll take a week long break with you,” Dick concedes. “And we can see how fast you’re healing.” The second part is a lie, of course. He's not going to supersede Alfred's orders on medical matters.

Dick sighs a little. He figures that while they’re both on bed-rest duty, though, he can try to figure out how to set things up so they can operate effectively once they get a clean bill of health.

“How do you feel about not living in the manor?” Dick asks.

“Kicking me out already?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I wouldn’t be living here either,” Dick says. It’s true. He’d rather not feel like he’s living in all of Bruce’s old places, wearing Bruce’s old costume, … replacing him, essentially. He needs a place he can clear his head.

“Where would you live then?” Damian asks skeptically.

Dick shrugs. “The penthouse, maybe. Bruce already made a bunker nearby, so we could operate out of there pretty easily.”

Damian narrows his eyes. “Why do you keep saying ‘we’?”

Because you are ten and not ready to live on your own. But Dick just says, “Well, you’re Robin now, right? That means you’re pretty much obligated to team up with Batman.”

“Batman isn’t here, Grayson. He never will be again, no matter how much you play dress-up.”

Charming kid. Like Dick didn’t already know that.

“You know I operate effectively alone, right?” Damian continues. “I don’t need to be hand-held and babysat like all of Father’s previous partners.”

Dick figures that it’d be a jerk move to remind Damian he just almost died and therefore really shouldn’t be on his own. Instead, he says, “Well, Alfred’s staying with me, so unless you want to get all your food and clean the house by yourself, you have to put up with me.”

“Tt . I don’t need a servant. I’ll just eat at restaurants.”

“On who’s money?”

“In the event of his death, my father’s assets should have transferred to me. His blood son.”

Oh boy. Dick rubs his face. “Does this have to be a thing, Damian? No one’s doubting your capacity to take care of yourself but I think it’d really be easier if we were operating out of the same building. “

A long silence on Damian’s part. “Fine,” he says eventually. “I’ll allow you to stay at my penthouse.”

My penthouse. Of course. But Dick takes it. “All right,” he says. “Let’s move in.”

[thepaperpanda]

CROSSfire || Sam Drake x Reader Smut

Summary: Sam needs your help with getting the cross. Who says that such a difficult task can't be enjoyable?

Warnings: Smut

Words: 4016

Authors: Cass & Rouge

Request by: @porgswillrullgalaxymotherfucker

The auction day came quickly.

You stepped into an old castle, wearing a lacy, red dress that reached half of your thighs. It was a flared dress with deep neckline and revealed back. You wore black high heels in an addition to your outfit. Your hair were pinned up in a bun.

 You walked into a huge ballroom, a lot of people were inside; ladies in dresses, gentlemen in tuxedos or suits.

 You smelled the champagne in the air, and smiled to yourself. Reaching to your little purse, you pulled a little mirror out and checked your red lipstick. It was applied perfectly, so you smiled proudly to your reflection.

Sam and Nate looked around the crowded ballroom. The plan was simple: get the cross and run away. There was nothing in between them and the artefact.

 When Nate casually watched people and the room itself, Sam's eyes stopped at beautiful young lady in a flared, red dress.

Older Drake was a simple man, freshly out of the jail, so he thought a female company would be a very nice addition.

 Sam tapped Nate's shoulder. "Listen, we still have some time before the big plan. So I will go do reconnaissance among the people. Who knows, maybe I will find out something interesting," he shrugged and quickly walked away to follow the girl before Nate could say a word.

 Nathan blinked and narrowed his brows, observing how his older brother walked away and soon vanished among the crowd. He understood that Sam was all alone by many years, but it wasn't a proper place nor time for affairs. He didn't stop Sam, though.

 You took a glass of champagne off the silver plate that a waiter offered. Taking a little sip, you left a mark of your red lips on the glass. You walked closer to he podium, and took a proper look on the cross. You had to get this item.

 Sam grabbed one glass as well and walked to the girl. He took a quick sip of the champagne, noticing that woman was looking at the cross. He dicided it's his chance. "Saint Dismas cross... Really rarity of tonight's event. Are you here for it? Or does lady like you wait to buy a nice ancient necklace to match this beautiful dress?"

 You stopped sipping your champagne, and slowly turned head to face the man who spoke to you.

 First impression was more than positive. He seemed stylish and classy. As tall as he was, he hovered over you. He was for sure older than you.

 "I'm into getting this beautiful cross," you replied with cocked brow.

Even though his comment made you flattered, you tried to hide it.

 Sam looked at the woman and smiled as his eyes scanned her body. Here was a perk of being tall, taking a peak into woman's cleavage wasn't too hard.

 He chuckled casually taking a sip from his glass. "Oh, really? And what will you do with this cross? Are you a private collector or something?"

 "Let's say I need it for work purposes," you replied and moved around. You caught him staring into your boobs, and you felt like blushing.

 With a swing in your hips, you walked into the door direction. "And you?," You asked loudly. "What's your purpose here?"

 Sam followed the woman admiring the nice move of her hips. Maybe he was locked away for way too long? "Well, I came here to get the cross. I also need it for my work," he hummeed with a small nod. "You see, I am the Saint Dismas expert. This thing would help a lot in my research."

 You stopped in the threshold, and leant your back against a doorframe. "Oh, so apparently, you're the expert. It's a pleasure for me then," you sent him a brief smile. You pushed your hips forward gently, you knew he was observing you. "What do you do for living?"

 "Uhm, ya know. I read, I do research, travel," Sam shrugged, standing right next to her.

"I meet beautiful ladies from time to time. This is the best part, honestly."

 "Oh, you mean it?," You asked and ran the tip of your tongue along your lower lip.

 Sam dared to slowly wrap his arm around her waist and smiled. "Oh, sure I do mean it and I need to say this, I have never met a lady as stunning and beautiful as you."

 You slowly cocked one of your brows. Oh, how flattered you were! He was making you blush. And he was a complete stranger!

 You tilted your head a little. "I bet you say things like this to every girl."

 Sam shook his head as he stroked her waist gently with his colosal hand. "No, these words are reserved for one special lady and I think I found her. After all the years of searching."

 You looked at him, you didn't know what to say.

The compliments he was offering you were the cheapest one, but somehow you were falling for them. At least a little part of you was.

 The auction started, so you excused him. "I need to take the best place now," you told him. "But who knows, maybe we'll meet up later?"

 You walked away, with the familiar swing in your hips, turning your head a little to looked at him above your shoulder.

 Sam watched her hips with a smile, he just got the idea how to get the cross and leave this place in peace.

 He quickly went to Nathan who was talking to Sully. "Gentlemen, I just created a master plan that will help us get a cross."

 "Honestly I am scared to ask," Sully muttered.

 "So what's your plan, Sam? I can sneak out to the controlling room and switch the lights off, as we planned before," Nathan crossed arms over his chest.

 He shook his head. "There is no need for this, little brother. See that beautiful girl in red dress?" Sam discreetly pointed at you. "This little cutie is horny for that cross. Well, not only for the cross if you two catch my drift," he said with a small shrug. "Here is the thing. We need to let her win it. Later I will get it."

 Sully exchanged surprised glances with Nathan.

 The younger Drake asked first. "How are you going to do this?," He looked at his older brother.

 Sully rubbed his chin. "There are a lot of guards around. How are you going to force her to give you the cross? Are you going to kick her so she will lose consciousness?"

 Sam let out a fake laugh and rolled his eyes.

"Oh, come on, Victor. We all are gentlemen here and we sure know how to treat a good lookin' lady," he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

 Sullivan stroked his mustache. "I am afraid you might be too sure of yourself. Such a woman, she doesn't look like a fool girl."

 "Let him try," Nathan decided.

 "I talked with her and she's already mine," Sam winked. "Besides, I still can steal the cross from her. She is alone, and I am twice her size. What can go wrong?," He was sure of his idea.

 ------------------

The auction was fierce and rough, many people wanted to out their hands on the cross.

 Nathan and Sully were standing in the back of the ballroom, sipping on their drinks, observing the place.

 You were setting the highest bids, and finally, after half an hour, you made it. The Saint Dismas cross was yours.

 As soon as you took the artifact in your hands, you finished your champagne and left the room. You headed to the bathroom.

 "Here she goes. Cross fingers for me," Sam said walking away.

 He followed you, making sure he looked decent. "Well, hello there, lucky lady. I can see the luck doesn't leave your side tonight," Sam greeted you when he got close enough.

 You frowned as soon as you heard the male voice behind you. You turned head around, and relaxed as soon as you spotted the stranger who talked to you earlier. "I think you lost your way. Men's toilet is on the other side of the corridor," you pointed a white door for him. "And apparently it was my lucky auction, indeed."

 Sam laughed and nodded. "Oh, don't worry, I am not lost in any way. You said that maybe we will met again, so I just decided to help my luck," he shrugged. "How about celebrating your victory?"

 "I'm set with my friends," you told him. "I need to fix my hair and I'm going to leave. Celebration will be huge tonight," you admitted and opened the door to the restroom. You stepped in, and closed the door behind you.

 As soon as you did, you shifted the cross into your purse.

 Sam rolled his eyes, he was getting slightly annoyed. He wanted to get the cross and to get off, this was something he really needed.

 Rubbing his face he followed you inside the bathroom. Even if it was wrong. "Oh, come on, little one. Why are you running away from me like that?"

 You were leaning over a sink, sipping the water from your curled palm. You choked on it when you heard the man stepped into the restroom right behind you. "I'm sorry, it's ladies' bathroom," you reminded him and wiped your lips with a top of your palm.

 You measured his features with an interested glance, from the bottom to the top. Oh, how handsome this man was. His attention was flattering you.

"I'm not running away, sir," you informed him, yet licked your lips. He was even more than handsome, you had to admit when he stepped in a full light.

 "Oh, so it's a sir? I like this nickname," Sam said with a smile, checking you out again. You looked so beautiful that Sam wanted to fuck you right here, he noticed how you looked at him as well. "Like what you see, little one?"

 You didn't reply. Instead, you turned with your back to him and you started applying some powder to your nose. "Let's say I do. It's been a while since I saw a man your age in such a good shape."

 Sam chuckled and walked to you, he pressed his front to your back, trapping you between the sink and his body. "I feel flattered that you think something like this about me, but trust me, girl, I am in s good shape in every way possible," he whispered right into your ear.

 Instinctively, you stick your bun out to him, pressing it to his crotch, and rubbing your ass over him. You licked your lips slowly, looking at your reflection in a huge mirror. You smirked at the man. "So. You do feel flattered? So maybe I'll try to make you blush now," you whispered.

 As you were trapped between the man and the counter there the sink was, you didn't want to turn to him. Instead, you slowly moved stripes of your dress down, slowly freeing both of your hands and exposing your naked boobs to him. You did it as slowly as possible, at the same time still rolling your hips and rubbing your bun against his crotch.

 Sam moved his hand to your belly, he looked at you in the mirror. "Oh, sweetheart. You will need more than that to make me blush."

His hand moved from your belly to cup your boob. Sam massaged it, playing with your nipple while his lips attacked your neck.

 With a gasp you rolled head back, resting it in his chest. You provided him better access to your neck.

One of your hands was placed to his on your boob, you licked your lips some more when he pinched your nipple. Meantime, other hand of yours moved to be placed on his thigh. Even through his pants you could feel well built muscles.

 Sam pushed his hips against you, he kissed your neck and moved to your shoulder. "You are a naughty little thing, ain't ya?"

Sam's hand left your boob and moved between your bodies to move the lower part of your dress up. "Let's see what are you hiding there."

 You gasped and moved in his arms, turning around to face him. You pulled the hems of your dress up and exposed your black, lacy panties.

 "Well, hello there, beautiful," Sam hummed and kissed you. He moved your panties aside and his finger immediately traveled to your clit. "Tell me what do you desire."

 You licked your lips and jumped on the counter, parting your legs widely for him. You caught man by his white shirt and pulled him closer, so his crotch pressed to your exposed clit. "I have no idea. Girls just want to have fun though, so maybe show me how it is to have fun with older, experienced man like you," you ran your hand up and down his chest, licking your lips slowly.

 "As this expirianced man I suggest we skip this boring foreplay and get straight to the main fun," Sam said before working on his pants and letting them drop down to his ankles together with his boxers. "Just look what you're doing to me," he growled, giving himself few strokes.

 You licked your lips and reached hand to place it on his shaft. Man's cock was hard, smooth in touch, yet with many veins on the surface, so you hummed loudly. Your thumb rubbed his tip. Then, you spat on your palm and rubbed your clit as well.

 Sam watched you with amusment before removing your hand from your clit. He looked you right in the eyes, and slowly pushed his cock in, Sam's fingers started to work on your clit while his hips snapped roughly.

 You rolled head back, letting a little whimper out. He roamed into you viciously, he gave you pain, but the pleasure made it all up for you. "You like younger girls, don't ya?," You gasped in anticipation of his another thrust.

 Sam pinched your clit gently, not stopping his movements. "I like all girls, as long as they do not complain about headache too much," man winked at you. Sam's hips stuttered a little. He was getting close, maybe he was locked away a bit too long.

 After some time, you pushed him off, so his cock slipped out of you with a wet noise. Jumping off the counter, you turned around, resting your hands against counter edge. You shook your ass for the man. "How about fucking this little pussy from behind, Mr Traveler?," You moaned.

 Samuel hummed loudly taking your hips and massaging them. "Oh, miss Artifacts Buyer. I will gladly fuck this nice, tight pussy from behind."

He pushed deep inside of you, fucking you in a quick, hard pace. Sam's hand grabbed your hair, pressing your head against the counter. He made sure you did not look at your abandoned bage. Sam reached inside with his other hand. "Such a good girl, letting me fuck you like a whore," Sam purred as he found the cross, he quickly pulled it out and placed it in the inner pocket of his jacket.

 You were moaning for him like a good girl would.

The fact he caught a handful of your hair add some spiciness to the entire act.

You hummed deeply and pushed your hips back more, rolling them a little in his hips. At that time, you were getting closer and closer to the peak.

 Sam moved the jacket aside a little and pressed his chest to your back. "Is my girl getting close? I can feel that sweet pussy squeezing my cock," he picked your leg and place it on the counter. "Just like that, my girl."

 You turned head a little to give him a glance from half-closed eyelids. "I don't wanna break this tense but I am cumming!," You moaned loudly for the man when he switched the position a little as you core has gotten tight like never before. "Don't ya dare to torture me."

 Sam smiled pulling on your hair  gently, this scene was beautiful to him. "Oh, c'mon, sweetheart. No one is torturing you," he moaned placing few kisses to your nape. "You can cum, I can't wait to feel it actually," Sam whispered in a low tone.

 "Oh, God," you gasped under your breath, and even the words you've said were addressed to you, you caught a grin on his lips with a corner of your eye.

 In the same moment, your inner walls started clenching around his member. The feeling was unbearably wonderful, you could sense all of the veins on his shafts, and this literally drove you crazy.

 Moaning like a little kitten, you slipped hand between your thighs to rub yourself. With a smirk on your face you discovered that you were dripping down your parted thighs. And all of this because of this handsome stranger...

 You screamed when your pussy clenched around man's cock for a long few seconds. You could feel how the wetness is covering him.

 Sam groaned loudly at the wonderful feeling of tightness, and at your wetness covering him. He wanted to stay like this forever, but he had a mission, and he had to go back to his brother soon. "Such a good, little girl. You feel wonderful, now get down on your knees. I am not done yet," Sam said looking at your reflection in the mirror. He winked at you as he slowly pulled out.

 You gasped sadly at the feeling of emptiness within your core. You knew your panties was soaking wet, and you thought you'll have to get rid of them. And this was your favourite pair of panties...

 You turned to face the man, but instead getting down on your knees, you climbed on you tiptoes and placed a lovingly kiss to man's jaw, then you pressed your rosy lips to his rough ones. You were kissing him for a moment, letting your tongue dance along with his, and you could swear to God, this was the best feeling ever.

 Then, taking your time, you slowly knelt in from of the stranger and gasped a little at a sight of his erected cock. Its size was more than average, the shaft was covered with veins, and was throbbing a little. You licked your lips and spat on the tip. Tip of your tongue ran along the shaft, from base to the tip. Then, you slipped it into your mouth.

 Sam looked down on you, licking his lips after such an enjoyable kiss. His hand moved into your hair, but this time he didn't pull on them, he simply scratched your scalp. "That's it, you're a clever girl," Drake mutttered, enjoying the feeling of your sweet lips wrapped around his cock. "Keep it up, sweetheart, and I will fucking cum."

 You bobbed your head back and forth. Your hands were placed on his thighs. Some of wet noises could be heard within the room and you sucked on man's shaft hardly. Soon, one of your palms cupped his balls. Slowly squeezing it between your fingers, you increased your pace. In the end, you tried to deep-throat him. You slipped almost all of his cock down your throat and gagged yourself a little.

 Sam chuckled observing your attempt.

"Careful there, little one. I don't want you to get hurt here." He winked.

 Sam let you continue the work. He was getting closer and closer to the climax.

When Sam got close enough, he grabbed your hair and pulled you away from his cock. He grabbed it and gave himself few strokes befor painting your gorgeous face white with his cum. "I never thought there might be something that can make you even more beautiful. I think I was mistaken."

 You wiped his cum from your nose and cheek; it was thick and viscous.

You ostentatiously put your fingers covered in his cum into your lips and licked them clean, with your eyes still on his face. "Mocha?," You raised your brow. "You gotta drink too much coffee, sweetheart."

 "What can I say? I love my coffee," Sam laughed, improving his pants. "You should clean yourself up before going out to your friends, sweetheart."

 You nodded and got back to your feet. You tugged your panties down and there them into a trash bin. Then, you looked at yourself in the mirror. Your hand slipped to your purse.

 Sam cleared his throat and walked to the trash bin. "Such a waste, bad girl," he summed up and pulled the panties from the bin. Sam wanted to pull your attention away from the purse, and to have a little souvenir from this little adventure. "Guess I will take these. Maybe one day you will want them back. You will have to find me," Sam giggled with his loud tone and winked at you walking to the door.

 You blinked and your hand stopped few millimetres from the purse. "Are you joking?," You asked him and blushed. You quickly improved the dress and wiped rest of his cum with a paper towel.

 Licking your lips, you walked to him. "Tell me your name at least, handsome stranger."

 "Drake. That's all you need to know, little one," Sam pulled you into a deep kiss, pulling your lower lip gently with teeth. "I hope to see you again."

 He slipped out from the bathroom and walked away.

When he was sure you weren't watching nor following him, Sam quickly ran to look for Nathan and Sully.

 "We can go now," He announced simply as soon as he found them.

Drake.

You could swear you'd heard this surname somewhere before. You couldn't recall where you might have heard thus surname.

 You cleaned yourself and left the bathroom.

 When you had gotten to your car, you dropped the purse to seat next to the driver seat. You slipped hand in, and paled. You couldn't find the cross.

You grabbed the purse and flipped it upside down. Only a pack of handkerchiefs, a lipstick, a little mirror and a pack of condoms fell out. "FUCK," you screamed.

 ------------------

"I told you it will be easy. Easiest way to women's treasure...," Sam said proudly, patting the part of jacket where the cross was hidden, "Leads trough her pussy," he finished and laughed.

 Nathan looked at his older brother in disbelief. "Sam. Get civilized, please. I'm the last one to hear about your sexual adventures," he claimed. "Let's focus on Avery now. Even if he doesn't have a pussy, he's the most important figure for us now."

 "How desperated your wife had to be to put a ring on such a bore like you, little brother,"  Sam said wrapping arm around Nate's shoulder. "You're right, but later you need to hear me out. She was amazing! So soft and small. Maybe you will get idea what to do to your wife," older Drake hummed, wigling his eyebrows.

 Nathan blushed reluctantly and pushed his brother away. "Sam. I beg you, stop. I don't want to hear anything like this. God," younger Drake looked at Sully, who only rubbed his chin. "Tell him something, Sully."

 Older man chuckled quietly. "You know, Nathan, you'd be saying other things after being locked down for the last 15 years. I have kind of understanding towards Sam."

 Nathan shook his head. "Whatever, gentlemen. Let's focus on our mission."

 "Oh yeah, yeah, let's focus, but Victor?," Sam turned to older man. "What would you say for some men time? Just us, good cigarettes or cigars, old whiskey and talking about ladies. Nate can go to sleep, he is too young to hear about such things," Sam joked.

 Sully only laughed and shook his head.

"Sounds good, but now I suggest to leave before your female adventure return to us in attempt to find the cross you've stolen," he said and after that the trio left the building.

Pandies🐼: @imidarogerson @grossograsso @thewildgardensstuff @leven-and-ashley @la-verdura @bearded-steve-rogers @atuckyismylife @krispyjellyfishzombie @personality-within @haseki-huricihan @choppedgardenwhispers @vroobelek @lattimelka @chris-beamz @purepearls @volcanoxxx @kastrup-sofie @mikkal-akasaki @withoutashadowofhope @radbluebirdeagle @smutloversblog @buquete @super-psycho-love69 @tanglesss @peter-sommer @baysidewest @vegemania @philip-stan @chodiusmmm @tykorclint @dagger-dragger @kurant @oxfordkipem @deliciousbouquet90 @tuptuptup @hellenna80 @karina-marina9 @latimeriaaa @bratko @wurld89 @scott-evans @kiss-me-rouge @ovonel-espaniol @dancing-tacco @ratugadhi @white-tiger-shangrila @axn69 @eternal-life-awaits @mrs-laura-harmon @gleeeeees @darkllaama @jatut @agawux @fuzzy-tigrrr @jrjohnsson2 @maaargoshaaa @einexx @nwmtagsb @secretlygrantaire @infinity-stones-seeker​ @thehappyspider​ @wings4life​ @huxyluxy​ @dontbeafraidchild​ @misafiryanki​ @electronicpatrolcollective​ @thisismysecrethappyplace @aulika​ @a-happy-wolf​ @creative-seahorse​ @biologyforliving​ @stareyedplanet​

[kingreywrites]

Tradition

Fandom: Tangled

Word Count: 2624

New Dream Appreciation Week Day One: The Day of Hearts

Summary: "Hey Blondie," Eugene said quietly. She looked down at him as he turned around a little to face her more comfortably. "What do you think about… You know, this whole tradition about signing Herz Der Sonne's diary to celebrate your love?"

Note: not my fav fic for this week, but I hope you’ll like it!!

Read on ao3

@gleamful-lanterns @autumn-ravenclaw

-1-

Sat cross-legged on Eugene's bed, Rapunzel was scribbling intensely on the list of activities she was making to convince Cass that a double date with her and Eugene was the best thing ever, adding little doodles everywhere to support her arguments. Eugene, for his part, was lying down lengthwise on his bed next to her, head and shoulders sticking out. He was tracing mindless patterns on the floorboards under him, looking thoroughly bored.

"Hey Eugene?" she asked suddenly, pencil in her mouth.

"Yes?"

"An activity of swimming together under the stars, yay or nay?"

"Nay," he grunted.

"Really? Why?"

"The water's cold, and Cassandra in it would make it freezing," he grumbled, looking up to see her frown. "Hey, the water really is cold. Plus, this Andrew guy and Cass only just met in person, maybe it's a little too soon to put on swimsuits in front of each other for them."

Rapunzel pondered on that for a second, before nodding. Swimming would have to wait for another double date. She hoped the fifty-six other activities she had planned would be enough to compensate. This was so exciting, she thought with a grin, already fantasising about how great it would be to do all of these things with Eugene, while Cassandra could do them with Andrew.

"Hey Blondie," Eugene said quietly. She looked down at him as he turned around a little to face her more comfortably. "What do you think about… You know, this whole tradition about signing Herz Der Sonne's diary to celebrate your love?"

She beamed at him, forgetting her list for a second as she thought back on the story Big Nose told them not so long ago. "It's so romantic! I love the idea that, for generations, couples signed this book, and that their love will forever live through it!"

"I do too," Eugene answered with a soft smile. He opened his mouth, about to say something, but she didn't notice because right at this instant, an idea struck her.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, lightening up visibly.

"Oh?" he parroted.

"Do you think Cass and Andrew are gonna sign the diary together? That would be adorable!" she squeaked, bending down to add book signing on the list. Oh, she was so impatient for this date - she just needed to get Cassandra's permission, but with so many fun things to do together, how could she say no?

When she looked back towards Eugene, he seemed to have deflated, and was looking at the ground again.

"Are you okay?"

He hummed, before grumbling: "You know, the Herz Der Sonne's diary is for really serious couples. Like, those that think that they're gonna spend their lives together, that kind of deal."

"Ah… And you think Cass isn't ready for that?"

"I- urgh," he groaned, "forget it."

She hesitated, sensing there was something more here, something she wasn't understanding. Gently, she put her hand in Eugene's hair and brushed it away, and he raised his head again to give her an honest and loving smile. She smiled back hesitantly, but he didn't add anything. After a few seconds, she decided to keep making her list of activities.

Just for Eugene, she added a couple manucure, knowing how much he loved these things.

-2-

There were a lot of cool things to do on the road - and a lot of less cool things too, like being in charge of the laundry day. Rapunzel had to admit, though there were plenty of tasks she actually enjoyed doing, laundry was… not one of them. It got her hair wet, and it took a long time to dry, and when she arrived in the castle, she had absolutely no trouble giving up on that.

On the road, though, there weren't many options. Thankfully, Eugene offered his help, so now they were both sitting near the river early in the morning, scrubbing clothes together in peaceful silence.

"Sunshine?"

"Mmh?"

"Do you know what today is?" he asked, meeting her eyes quickly before focusing back on the pants in his hands.

"Monday?"

"No I mean- the day today is, it's special."

Rapunzel frowned, trying to remember what Eugene was talking about. She knew it wasn't anyone's birthday, because if there was one thing she learned religiously, it was birthdays. It wasn't any day significant for their relationship either, she knew those by heart too. If Eugene thought she knew it, it had to be from Corona, so…

"Oh! You're right, it's Corona's annual pie eating contest!"

"Ah… no I think that's next week actually."

"Hmm." She put her hand on her chin, trying to think. "Is it 'share with your neighbour' day?"

"Uh… I think that was last week?" he answered hesitantly.

"... are you talking about the day of the snakes? Pascal's really not a fan of this one."

"We have a-- Corona really does have too many celebrations, doesn't it?" he groaned, but he seemed amused anyway, so she laughed.

They did have a day for everything, it felt. She didn't take part in all of them, but she loved learning about these traditions, and she loved even more seeing people enjoy themselves and having fun. Her favourite celebrations were the ones that were beloved by all of Corona, like the Gopher Grab, or-

"The Day of Hearts!" she exclaimed triumphantly, beaming when Eugene nodded. "Today is the Day of Hearts! Aww, I can't believe we're missing it, I'm sure people are having so much fun today!"

"I'm sure they are," Eugene agreed easily, looking back down at the clothing he was still washing. "And, uh, I-"

"I hope my parents are having a good day," Rapunzel said, a little quieter. She knew how much they loved that day, and thinking about it made her miss them more than usual.

Eugene cleared his voice, bringing back her attention to him. "Blondie, I was thinking… Maybe we could organise our own Day of Hearts? Here? Of course it won't be the same but-"

"Eugene, you are a GENIUS!" she jumped to her feet, too full of excitement all of the sudden. "This is the best idea ever, this is gonna be so fun!"

"I have my moments," he grinned, looking proud of himself. "So, what do you wanna do for our Day of Hearts?"

"Apple bobbing," Rapunzel announced without an ounce of hesitation.

"Of c- wait, what? Apple bobbing?"

She nodded eagerly. "I didn’t get to do it last year, what with Andrew turning out to be… Well, you know. I really wanted to, though, and I swore to myself that I would do it next year, which is today!"

"But you played that game in Corona already."

"Not on the Day of Hearts! It wasn't the full experience. Ah, and I'm sure Lance and Hookfoot will find it fun too, plus you know how Max is with apples," she said with amusement.

"Ah." Eugene seemed a lot quieter. "You want everyone to participate."

"Of course!" she sat down again to finish the laundry, a new energy in her actions. The quicker they did that, the quicker they could start. "That's really an amazing idea Eugene, I can't wait!"

He smiled, but it looked a little weird to her. It wasn't the proud and happy smile he had only minutes earlier. "I'm glad you like it, Sunshine."

"I love it, really," she insisted.

Eugene's smile seemed a little more genuine after that. And he actually had fun too during the apple bobbing - Rapunzel wasn't sure what he had been disappointed about at first, but she hoped it was resolved.

-3-

Oh, Rapunzel thought one year later, I am an idiot.

She… She had never really considered the idea that Eugene might want to spend the Day of Hearts with her only. She knew it was a day for romance, and couples, but- but she had always seen it as a day for other couples, for some reason.

Even these last days, when Eugene had asked again and again about signing Herz Der Sonne's diary together, she had been more focused on her parents' relationship than anything else. She didn't mind the idea at all, she even wanted to do it, but she didn't feel like it was that important in the grand scheme of things.

Then, King Trevor destroyed the diary. And she had decided to make a new book, thinking that it would be enough, but even now as she was painting the cover, she understood it would never be the same. All these names, these signatures written by people who wanted their love committed to memory, sometimes hundreds of years before today… All of that was gone. And though she liked to think that their love was eternal, and wouldn't be affected by it, she couldn’t help but mourn these lost memories. Corona was what it was now because of these people, and the love they had shared. They didn't deserve to be forgotten.

That line of thought led her to Eugene's insistence that they sign the diary, and suddenly she understood it more - understood the desire for their love to be part of a shared history, a shared tradition. They didn’t need it, but the gesture held a certain significance she hadn’t realised before. With this fact in mind, his behaviour from the previous years made much more sense all of the sudden. The propositions he hadn’t been able to voice, his frustration that he was quick to hide when she mentioned spending the day with other people… Eugene obviously cared about this celebration, and about the meaning it held for their love, and he had wanted… He had wanted to spend time with her, and she hadn’t even noticed. Surveilling her work on the new Book of Hearts, Rapunzel felt a pinch of guilt, but squashed it quickly. She knew Eugene would not blame her for not reading his mind, and instead of wallowing, she could make sure that this time, their love would be her entire focus for the remaining time.

Starting with the Book.

Smiling, she turned the still blank pages, imagining all the new names that would soon fill it. As much as she wished the ancient diary hadn’t been destroyed, she knew that love in Corona still had a bright future, and that these pages would soon be entirely covered by the signatures of couples old and young.

But there was one page she wanted to keep. One page that was for Eugene and her only. There was no hesitation in her mind when she chose the page in the exact middle of the book, because their love was the center of her own universe. Eugene was neither her beginning or her end; he was her entire life, the one holding her pages together. She hoped it was how he saw her too.

Going by the beaming smile he gave her when she gave him a quill, and made them sign the new Book of Hearts together, she’d say she got it right. He held her tightly against himself when they embraced, glowing with a joy she wished she had given him earlier.

She got distracted, after that, by her parents starting to recover their memories. They stayed together all evening, all four of them, just chatting together like they used to do when she first came to the castle - Rapunzel loved it.

When night fell, and her parents retired for the evening, Rapunzel and Eugene went to hang out in her bedroom. His bedroom was full of eggs anyway and, she reasoned, and it was easier for him to sleep in her room than to find an empty one.

This was a logical decision, see, not simply her wanting to cuddle with him all night.

"Hey Eugene? Can I tell you something?" she asked, once she had gotten in her more comfortable nightgown, and he had foregone his jacket and his boots.

"Of course," he smiled, shifting so she could sit next to him. "What's up Blondie?"

"I… I wanted to say I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't understand how much the Day of Hearts meant to you before, and I'm sorry you felt like you couldn't tell me."

"What? Hey, there's absolutely nothing to be sorry about," he immediately answered, hand going to her cheek.

"Let me explain?" she asked gently, and after a short hesitation, he nodded. "I don't think I did something awful, but I think I didn't pay attention to your feelings on this subject, and I'm sorry for that. The Day of Hearts is…" she paused, trying to find her words. "I think it's an adorable celebration, and I love how much people love it, you know? But I never really- I never related it to our relationship. I care so much more about… the day we met! Or our birthdays, or the day you first gave me flowers, or the day you let me paint on you, or- i think you get it," she chuckled, grabbing a strand of her hair to play with. "I didn’t think you wanted to celebrate the Day of Hearts with me, and only me, and I should have… asked you, instead of assuming."

She grew silent, and Eugene took it at his cue to resume stroking her cheek, eyes soft and somewhat amused.

"Again, I don't feel like you have to say sorry. I never asked you either, and you can't read minds, even mine. I… To be honest, I felt a little bad for caring so much about a day like this one," he chuckled, looking embarrassed. "I didn’t want to admit I'm a sap, I guess."

"That's part of why I love you," Rapunzel grinned. Eugene looked cute when he blushed.

"But also, you're right," Eugene added, an intense honesty to his words. "These moments we shared, they're all so much more important to me than this day will ever be. It's okay, if you prefer to spend the day uh… apple bobbing."

Rapunzel snorted at that, surprised. It wasn't long before they were both laughing, remembering the mess that their "homemade" Day of Hearts had been. Hey, at least it had been a fun day. Maximus had fallen into the river because he had been so excited to grab an apple.

"You know what?" she exclaimed. "Last time, I was the one to choose the activity, so now it's your turn! What do you want to do Eugene?"

"It's nearly midnight," he laughed.

"And? There's still a lot of things we can do at midnight! Oh, we could finally go swimming under the stars-"

"The water will be freezing!"

"You have a point." She put her hands on his knees, bringing her face close to his. "Come on Eugene, there has to be something you want to do!"

"I…" He took a second to think, seriously think, before he said hesitantly: "I wanna dance with you?"

"Oh!" Warmth spread in her chest, and she couldn't contain her excitement at this. "Eugene, I'd love to dance with you!"

She grabbed his hands and made them both stand up next to the bed quickly, linking her fingers with his as they stood close enough for her to hear his soft breathing.

"There's no music, though," he whispered.

As if summoned, Pascal popped his head out of his bed, and played with the little guitar he had on him all day. Just like that, they were laughing, and taking stumbling steps together as they swirled around the room. They were both barefoot, only illuminated by some candles and the moonlight, but they didn't need anything else.

Rapunzel went on her tiptoes to kiss Eugene, and he eagerly returned it, holding onto her waist as they slowly swayed together.