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cordria · 4 years ago

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Twin Cores - DP

Saw this headcanon on Tumblr… awhile ago? It stuck with me, and I ended up writing this, and now I can’t find it to give the person proper credit. Lemme know if anyone recognizes this idea and knows who came up with it. (heart)

Was gonna do this idea for the Big Bang thing, but I forgot all about signing up. ;) Wonders. So I’ll just post it and come up with new ideas.

~2,700 words.

Danny floated high above the clouds, up where the air was thin and cold and the stars sparkled brightly overhead. It was terribly late, and Danny knew he’d be paying for this at school tomorrow, but this was always the best part of his week. He couldn’t come up here all the time, but when he cound, he always found himself relaxing. Hands behind his head, he floated on his back, studying the stars.

He let out a breath through his lips and brought a hand forwards to massage his chest, closing his eyes. Yesterday had not been good day. An accident with some of his parents’ technology had completely ruined his day. For reasons Danny didn’t understand, his chest had felt overly full since. Almost like he needed to cough up something - which couldn’t be, because his ghost form didn’t have any real lungs to cough with.

With a groan, Danny stretched and rolled his body through a bunch of sharp loop-the-loops and twists, hoping maybe he could work out the kink. Nothing. Hopefully it wouldn’t prevent him from getting a good night’s rest. He was exhausted.

He floated for a few minutes longer, watching the sky and hoping for a meteor or two, slowly turning the overfull feeling over in his mind. He pushed and prodded at the odd sensation, trying to come up with what in the world it could be.

It had to relate to his parents’ invention. Unfortunately, the day was a fuzzy blur in Danny’s memory and if something in particular had happened to him, he wouldn’t be able to remember it on his own. All he could do on his own was a vague understanding of what had happened.

Getting zapped with one of the newer devices yesterday had resulted in Danny getting split - again. His ghost half had fallen captive to the hero-like obsession of his core, and had gone on a hero-spree. A memory of rescuing a cat from a tree in a very overblown, comic-like way surfaced and Danny buried his face in his hands, embarrassed for himself. “Ugh, I hope nobody videoed that. Or anything else,” he muttered.

His human half had wandered aimlessly through the day, not knowing what to do with no driving force behind everything he did. Vague memories of eating pizza and not noticing the ghost haunting the place next door until Sam pointed it out filtered through the shadows.

From what he remembered, it hadn’t been a horrible sort of day for either half of him. His ghost half had been allowed to play with his obsession all day and his human half had gotten to just be… human. But he’d been split for much longer than ever before; Tucker and Sam were unable to work through how the strange invention worked.

Danny didn’t remember being much help with the endeavour. In fact, he sort of remembered his human half stealing the device, passing it to his ghost half, and the thing getting placed on top of the school for the afternoon. Jazz finally got it using some of the newer modifications to the Fenton’s vehicle that allowed it to fly.

By the time the three of them figured out how to reverse the effects, it was late in the evening on the second day - more than 36 hours since being split. Phantom had started to turn more and more ghost, losing more of his humanity each hour, delving deeper and deeper into this hero obsession. His eyes had turned more ghostly, teeth sharpening, fingers turning into claws. Even a cape had started to mist into view.

Danny slowly ran his tongue over his teeth - they were still a bit too sharp - and pulled his hands far enough away from his face to glance at his fingers. They weren’t claws, not like many ghosts had, but… his fingers no longer really looked human. The changes that had happened to his ghost form the last two days appeared to be permanent, even now that they were rejoined back together.

Danny… didn’t want to think about that. Not yet.

And his human half had started to go through changes as well. Danny vaguely remembered - towards the end of the escapade, when he’d convinced himself that he didn’t want to be rejoined with Phantom - trying to avoid everyone and ending up in a tree, floating in a very inhuman way. His totally human form regaining some of its ghost powers.

Danny mentally poked at the odd, full sensation in his chest again. Perhaps it was that his ghost powers had grown while he was separated. Phantom hadn’t been exactly a half-a-ghost when they’d been slammed back together. And Danny had been just a bit of ghost too. Perhaps now he was somehow 60% ghost and 50% human… and his body was trying to adjust to being too much ghost.

His mind poked at the sensation in his chest just a bit too hard. Danny slammed his eyes shut tight as he felt the sensation of transformation travel through him - lightning sharp and aching into his phantom bones. Panic set in a second later. He couldn’t transform up here - there wasn’t enough oxygen for his human form to breathe. He’d pass out and fall to his death.

He gasped and threw his arms out, instinctively trying to grab something even though he was on the edge of the atmosphere, as the transformation arced through his arms and legs. He kept his eyes closed as he fumbled for his ghost side. He needed to transform back fast. His human side would already be aching to breathe, desperate for oxygen after the last hour of being in ghost form.

But his ghost side… was…

Danny opened his eyes as he realized he wasn’t falling. As he realized his ghost form wasn’t something to grab for, because he was still a ghost.

“But…” he whispered, startled and confused. He’d felt himself transform. There was no mistaking the sensation that had swept through him. He looked around, almost as if the answer would be written in the air next to him.

Then the stars caught his gaze. He froze, mouth falling open, as he stared up at the sky. There were more stars than before, the whole sky alight with points of light. And he knew them - with each star he focused his eyes on, he knew what that star was. How far away it was, what it’s name was, what kind of star it was…

Delight sparkled inside him as he let his gaze drift across the heavens. Stars he didn’t even know existed seemed to soak into his skin, whispering all their secrets in his ears. “How…?” he breathed, twisting around and around and looking everywhere he could. “Why?”

His gaze snagged on the moon, crescent-shaped and gleaming. He almost felt like he was drowning in it’s glow, feeling everything about it. The ice hiding in its craters. The human-built machinery peppering its surface. The soft warmth still coiling in its dying core. He could just… go there. He could be there in about three seconds. He could just…

He threw up a hand, blocking the moon’s glow, blinking hard and pushing the thoughts out of his mind. “Holy shit,” he whispered, breathing hard, focusing on Earth, on human thoughts, on normalcy. “What is this?”

Then he saw his hand, thin fingers topped with sharp claws, glove missing. His forehead furrowed as he realized both his gloves were gone, as was the logo on his chest, and the white belt around his waist. A black shirt and black pants. His boots looked like his normal shoes, just moon-lit white. Actually, minus the claws and some color changes, he looked… like he had yesterday. “Uh… What is going on with me?”

He could feel the pull of the stars overhead. He knew he could just lean back, put his arms behind his head, and float there, watching the sky forever. Just revel in space for all time. Instead, he kept his gaze down towards the tops of the clouds.

At least the first step of what he should do now was clear. Whenever he was dealing with anything out of the ordinary, Sam and Tucker knew what to say. They’d help. He’d go home, grab his phone, and call them.

Danny flew towards Amity Park-

-and suddenly drew to a stop. He twisted around, eyes wide, realizing that he’d somehow overshot his home by a dozen miles or more. “What the fuck?” he said. He’d only been flying for a moment - how was he all the way over here? “I…”

He licked his lips and tried again. He set his gaze on Amity Park and flew-

-right past Amity Park again. It was an eyeblink of time between one side of the city and the other. Danny hung in the air, confused and slightly annoyed. “What is going on?” he said. A new power, obviously - but one that had unfortunate timing. His fingers curled, the claws digging uncomfortably into his palms. “This is what I get for leaving my phone behind,” he groused. The phone wouldn’t have done well in the thin, cold atmosphere. Even if he’d have brought it with, there was no guarantee it would have still been working.

“Are all my powers wonky?” Danny asked, raising his hand and pushing energy into his hand. Instead of a steady, gas-like glow, the energy sparkled and hissed, like he was holding onto an exploding firework. “Odd.”

His powers were working differently, so it was time to try using them differently. Time to change tactics. Instead of focusing on a direction, Danny focused his mind on a destination. He closed his eyes, picturing where exactly he wanted to end up. Opening his eyes and taking a deep breath, he tried to fly as slowly as possible.

The world seemed to blur and twist, glowing uncomfortably bright for the fraction of a second Danny allowed himself to be in motion. When the world settled back into place, Danny found himself hovering about ten feet off the ground, within the city of Amiry Park, only about a half-mile from his house. “That worked a lot better,” he said, rather pleased with himself.

Instead of chancing another attempt at flying, Danny figured he’d turn himself human. A ten foot drop wouldn’t be too bad, and he could walk home. It would be the least-tricky way to get home. He took a moment to worry that this new power would prevent him from turning human as easily as normal, but then slammed that idea shut and closed his eyes.

Danny pushed his ghost form away, pulling at that warm and heavy feeling in his mind. There was a sparkling sensation in his mind, then the sharp pain that came with turning himself human again. He dropped, landing lightly on his toes, breathing a heavy sigh of relief that at least this was still normal. He bounced a few times, testing out a few basic powers - invisibility seemed to work like normal, as did phasing through things. He didn’t try floating, for fear of accidentally ending up two towns over and two hundred feet above the ground in human form.

He walked home, rubbing his chest at that strange, too-full sensation, and snuck in the back door. Despite the fact that all the lights were out, he kept himself invisible to avoid his parents. It was so far past curfew that Danny didn’t even want to think about the trouble he’d be in if they realized he was still out.

His bedroom door was still locked. Danny phased through it, flipped on the lights, and dumped himself into his bed. “Ugh,” he groaned, feeling the drain of the last two days on his body. He glanced over at the clock. Just before two in the morning. Part of him wanted to just curl up in his bed and fall asleep, try to get a few hours of sleep before tackling school tomorrow. But too much of him had a tight ball of anxious curiosity.

He groaned as he rolled out of bed and stepped in front of his mirror. He looked awful. Dark rings under his eyes and a horrible, pale tone to his skin. He looked half dead. “On the positive side, nobody will question it if I want to stay home sick tomorrow,” he muttered. He shuddered and shifted his weight, closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then triggered the transformation.

His ghost form spread like lightning across his skin, slammed through his head, and settled into his chest like a cold ball of fire. He squeaked one eye open just a touch, not sure of what he was going to see.

Phantom was peering back at him. Danny relaxed, letting his eyes open, and studied himself. From more than a few feet away, he looked absolutely normal. But up close, there were minor changes from the last few days. Teeth that were too pointy. Fingers that were a little more claw-like than normal. Hair that was more… smokey. Just a little. His mouth twisted, unsure of how he felt about the changes. “At least there’s no cape,” he murmured. “I’d look too much like Vlad with a cape.”

He squared his shoulders, set his teeth, and tried flying. He floated up and moved around his bedroom like normal. “So normal.” He caught sight of his claws and shivered. “Mostly.”

“Now…” He took a deep breath and jabbed hard at the over-full feeling in his chest. He was half-hoping nothing would happen. But light sparkled along his body, that tingling almost-painful sensation changing him in very subtle ways. His clothes changed from a jumpsuit to shirt and pants, his shoes looked like they would squeak on the floor as he walked. He was still glowing and transparent. “I’m… a different ghost?” He spread out his arms, feet firmly on the floor afraid to hover. “And I have like… superspeed.”

He took a very careful step forwards, peering closely at himself in the mirror. His eyes looked the same, with the normal green glow. His teeth were sharper, canines almost like little fangs. And… he leaned in, studying his freckles. They glowed, star-like, forming constellations across his skin.

His mind veered off tangent, remembering the stars overhead, the glittering facts that swirled through his mind, the odd bubbling joy that came with even thinking about space. The freckles on his cheeks rearranged themselves into the constellation Draco, and sparks and speckles swirled into life across his clothes. A supernova that resolved itself into the stars overhead. Danny could trace the stars in his clothes, knew everything about each star. He was caught by the strongest urge to fly there. To zip through space to Alrakis, a binary star system eighty-eight light years away. It would only take him 221 years, 5 months, and 3 days…

Danny jerked himself out of his thoughts. He couldn’t fly for over two hundred years. He shuddered and blinked, settling back on his heels. The glowing freckles on his face settled down, his clothes faded back to black. The familiar sort of pitch-black of space. The sort of black Danny imagined the universe looked like before stars existed. “I have space powers now,” Danny realized, his voice slow and excited. “I have space powers! I’m a space ghost!”

Curious, Danny poked at that over-full feeling in his chest again. The world tingled and flashed, and he was back to his old self. Phantom, with the logo and the better posture and the weight of the world resting on his shoulders. “I’m two ghosts, somehow? Two ghosts… and a human...” Danny stared at himself in the mirror. “Or...” he rested his hand on his chest, feeling that strange overly-full feeling. “Or something…?”

Danny shook his head, not sure where to even begin processing that one. Then he turned himself human again, watching the world get dark as the ghost energy faded away. He scratched at his scalp, trundled over to his bed, and dropped into its softness.

There wasn’t much he knew right then. The first was that space powers were the coolest power he could have gotten. And the second was that all this would be easier to process after a few hours of sleep and a large cup of caffeine.

#danny phantom #twin cores #space core AU #this was fun to write #thanks for the idea :)

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rebeccccccaaa · 4 years ago

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ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴀ ɴᴇʀᴅ ⓟⓐⓡⓣ ②

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ғʀᴀᴛʙᴏʏ!ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ ʙᴀʀɴᴇs x sʜʏ-ɪsʜ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀᴜ (ɪɴᴇxᴘᴇʀɪᴇɴᴄᴇᴅ ɪ ɢᴜᴇss)

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: (two part series!) You’re starting to struggle in class and decide to ask your professor for some tutoring or extra classes to boost your grade. He ends up assigning the last person you’d expect to tutor you. (is it really a surprise though?)

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: cw: talking about a car accident and infertility

smut 18+ (praise kink, dirty talk, oral fem receiving, hair pulling, marking, choking, slight spanking if you squint, slight bondage), major aftercare, fluff? This is pretty filthy lmao.

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 𝟺.𝟹 ᴋ (ɪ ᴀᴍ sᴏᴏᴏᴏᴏ sᴏʀʀʏ ᴛʜɪs ɪs sᴏᴏᴏ ʟᴏɴɢ!)

ᴀ/ɴ: Thank you so much for all the love in the last part! I was truly expecting maybe about 20 likes but so far its gotten over 100! Thank you for being so nice to me on my first ever post and hope you enjoy part 2!

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For the next two or so weeks you avoid Bucky like the bubonic plague. You didn’t exactly hate the fact that he kissed, but he was your tutor. Isn’t that inappropriate? Let alone him being a part of a frat house. It wouldn’t be a good mix.

One good thing though is that your overall grade in class has gone up since your tutor sessions with Bucky so at least it wasn’t for nothing. He’s tried to talk to you in class a couple times when you didn't go to him but ended up giving up when you began showing up right when class started or going out of your way to even go near him.

Again, you didn’t hate him; hell you weren’t mad anymore, but you still avoided at all costs. It’s totally not because you're scared you’ll actually fall for him. How could someone like Bucky even look your way? Maybe he just wanted to get into your pants like all the boys in the house.

You didn’t tell Natasha that Bucky kissed but she could definitely tell that something was up. You were usually at Bucky’s frat house on weekdays but you’ve been canceling sessions every night since the incident.

One night you were studying alone in your apartment and Natasha was pacing around on her phone. She was dressed to go to a frat party tonight but it seems maybe her ride isn’t available. You wonder why she can’t herself when she has a car.

“Hey Y/n,” Nat crept up to you.

“Yes,” you drew out.

“Would maybe, possibly, perhaps, might be able to be my DD?” she asked.

“Your what?”

“My designated driver. Wanda has a family emergency; her and her brother flew out like an hour ago and I haven’t been able to find anyone to pick me up.”

“I can drop you off and pick you up,” you offered. You’d rather stay up late in case she wants to come home than stay at the party all night, especially if she finds another bed to stay in till morning.

“I mean you could do that but would it be more fun to actually party for once. Come on babe you’re too uptight, you need to have fun especially with how hard you’re working in school right now.”

“Nat, you know that’s not my scene.”

“Just stay with me. Or Bucky I’m sure he wouldn’t mind hanging with you tonight,” she suggestively, bringing confusion to your face.

“Huh?”

“Oh nothing Just come with me please? If it gets too much text me and I’ll let you know if I need a ride back home.”

“Actually?” you asked.

“Pinky promise.”

“Ok give me like 5 mins.”

You ran to your room and picked out an outfit you felt sexy but comfortable in; I mean if you were going to inevitably run into Bucky at this party might as well look presentable right? When you came out ready, Nat whistled, hyping you up and felt your face heat up a bit.

“Stop, let’s just go,” you averted.

You arrived at the house music booming from down the street. People outside drinking from red solo cups, cars already picking up drunks and dropping people off to get said drunk. You hastily parked the car and Nat grabbed your hand and pulled you close as you guys walked to the party. You weren’t going to lie, you were really nervous.

You heard stories about these parties but you were trying to convince yourself that they may be exaggerated somewhat but still didn’t do much for your nerves. When you walked you eyes almost immediately locked with Bucky’s. To say he was shocked to see you at a frat party was for sure an understatement.

Bucky began to move through the crowd to meet up with you but when he got to the entrance it was like you disappeared. Disappointed, he returned to the mini bar where the drinks were all held, where Steve served the drinks. Asked for a beer.

“How’s it going, man?” Steve asked.

“She’s here.”

“Nat? I really think there's something between us. I’m thinking about asking her on a proper date you know?”

“Really? That’s awesome, but I’m talking ‘bout Y/n,” Bucky clarified.

“What? I thought she hated parties.”

“I did too.”

As if on queue, you tapped Bucky on the shoulder.

“Hi.”

“Hey, what on earth are you doing here?”

“Nat needed a designated driver and Wanda and her brother are out of town.”

“Yeah Pietro lives here in the house, Steve drove him and Wanda to the airport a couple hours ago.”

You nodded your head and things got awkward again, but then again what’s new with that.

“Do you want anything to drink?”

“I can’t drink.”

“Oh right. Do we have soda?”

“We coke for the rum but you can take a can.”

“Thanks Steve,” you took a can of coke from him.

You and Bucky and Steve all held wholesome conversation for a little bit then Nat came and whisked him away. Bucky was put on bar duty from then on and you decided to keep him company until Nat was ready to go home. But so far from the way Steve and her were dancing together you didn’t think Nat was gonna wanna go home.

You asked Bucky how long Steve and Nat have had their little thing and apparently it’s been going on for awhile. You had sneaking suspicion that they were together in some way but since Nat never brought it up you didn’t want to bug her. It was pretty easy to figure out though considering she didn’t come home some nights.

They’re good together though and you hope they make it official soon.

Talking to Bucky, you felt a hand brush against but when you looked no one was there. You figured it was just getting crowded. After a couple of hours you decided to text Nat to see where she was. When she didn’t respond, you took it upon yourself to call her.

“Nat where did you go?”

“I'm in the car,” she slurred.

“What! You can’t be driving! How did you even get the keys?” you yelled.

“I snatched them from you when you and Bucky were flirting with each other. Steve couldn’t find his keys so I took yours,” she shouted into the phone.

“When did you- whatever, is he sober?” you asked.

“Yeah and I am not even that dru-,” she hiccuped.

“Nat…” you warned.

“Steve is my boyfriend and we’re clean. I’ll be safe; it’s not like I can have kids anyway.”

“Nat.” When you moved in together at the beginning of the year, you noticed one time her grabbing her lower stomach in discomfort and offered her any products for her period. She told you she doesn’t get one and being the dumbass you are you asked why. She told you when she was a teenager she got into a car accident that caused extreme internal bleeding causing Nat to become infertle.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean it like that,” you apologized.

“It’s ok babe. If anything you be safe.”

“She can’t see you, babygirl,” you heard Steve say and laughed out loud.

“Oh! I’m winking!” she shouted.

“Oh my god. Whatever,” you rolled your eyes.

“Anyways buh-bye, girly!” she hung up the phone.

“What happened?” Bucky came up behind you. You looked over at the bar and saw Bruce bar-keeping.

“Nat took the fucking car with Steve.”

“Why didn’t he use my car?”

“She said he couldn’t find the keys and I guess it was easier to just steal from me when I wasn’t looking.”

“Wow, ok. Stealth much?”

“Right? She’s like a Russian spy,” you laughed.

“Well, you probably need a ride then,” Bucky brought up.

“I don’t know if I wanna go home knowing Steve is probably gonna be railing her into the next dimension.”

“Yeah, you can spend the night here. I can sleep on the floor.”

“Really?”

“Yeah it’s not a problem. We probably have an air mattress hiding somewhere.”

“Thanks Buck. well since I’m not going anywhere I guess I could have a drink now.”

“What’ll it be?”

You drank a couple beers feeling the alcohol beginning to flow effortlessly through your veins. The music was still booming through the house and you found yourself getting lost to the rhythm. You made your way to where everyone was also dancing and let the music guide your body sensually.

You didn’t notice it yet but Bucky was staring completely in love with the way you were moving. He’d never seen you in this kind of environment and definitely not in the clothing you were wearing. You looked truly sexy even more so dancing the way you were dancing; like you had control over everything in the world.

You soon felt a pair of hands circle around to your waist instantly knowing who they belong to. Bucky moved his hips snug against your backside perfectly fitting with you. You let your head lean back feeling Bucky breathe against your neck.

“You driving me crazy, doll,” Bucky whispered against your ear.

You shivered at his words.

“Please, let me show you how fucking stunning you are,” he moved his hands towards the front of your hips.

“What?” you turned around. You hadn’t expected Bucky to want to do anything with you.

“I can make you feel so good. You deserve it.”

“Bucky-”

“Do you want me to make you feel good?”

“I do,” you whined as he rubbed his hands against your lower back, pulling you so close.

He kissed you too softly, barely touching your lips, as he grabbed your hands and led to his room upstairs.

When you reached his room, the back of his knees hit the bed and he sat while your knees went to either side of his thighs. God his thighs. His hands went up your shirt grazing your bare skin with his fingertips as you continued to makeout sloppily.

“Can I take this off?” he asked, tugging your shirt.

“Please, yes please.”

Your arms went over your head and Bucky slowly kissed the exposed skin as your shirt inched higher and higher up until he tossed it to the side. The straps of your bra left off shoulders and Bucky continued to kiss any exposed skin on your body. Your hands ran through his hair and you tugged his strands earning a moan in return.

You tugged at his shirt as well and he complied quickly getting rid of his shirt and throwing it to the side. Bucky hands ran over your bottom and you jumped off him nearly ripping your bottoms off your body. You heard bucky chuckled as he too took the opportunity to take his pants off leaving him in boxers and nothing else.

“I want to taste you baby girl,” Bucky bit at your ear.

Your body tensed a bit because although you were not a virgin, you were not that experienced, especially compared to Bucky.

“Is that ok? I’m sorry, we don’t have to do anything. I don’t want you to regret anything, princess. We can stop.”

“No! I don’t want to stop. No one’s just ever wanted to do that, you know,” you whispered feeling a bit overwhelmed.

“Oh baby, what kinda shit boys were you with? Let me show how good a woman is supposed to feel, got it?”

You swallowed hard, but nodded of course.

Bucky picked you up and gently laid you down onto the bed. His hands rubbed your thighs softly and he kissed your stomach ever so softly. He was trying his very hardest to make sure you were comfortable and relaxed as much as possible. Bucky traced the lining of your underwear and looked to you once again to make sure everything was ok by you. You nodded but that wasn’t enough for Bucky.

“Words, baby. I wanna hear you say it,” he whispered, lips against your inner thigh.

“Bucky,” you whined.

“Come on, baby. Use your words like a big girl,” he snickered.

“Please, touch me, Bucky. I want you to use your mouth on me like you promised.”

“There ya go,” he said pulling your underwear down your legs.

He slowly opened your legs and kissed your inner thigh leaving a dark purple mark for him to see and him only. When he was satisfied with the marks he left on your inner thighs he licked a slow and wet line against your pussy. Your hips instantly bucked into his face and your hands flew to his hair.

You tugged at his hair again and released a grunt from Bucky, the vibrations from his mouth pleasuring you even more. Bucky brought his fingers to your hole and he continued circling his tongue around your clit making you moan and arch your back.

He entered a finger into you and then another. You were already beginning to feel full from just his fingers alone, you couldn’t wait until he was able to fuck you balls deep. Your orgasm was approaching quicker than you anticipated, your toes curled and your back arched off the bed. Your heels dug into Bucky’s back but he simply continued to eat you out until you finally peaked.

“Bucky!” you shouted his name in pleasure.

“That’s it baby girl. You're my good girl, right?”

“Yes, I’m your good girl. Oh god, I’m cumming,” you moaned.

Bucky helped you ride out your first orgasm of the night completely enamored by your beauty. When you finally came down from you high you reached for Bucky pulling him into a heated kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue and moaned into his mouth. You pulled him closer and sat up moving him to sit his back against his headboard.

“I don’t know what I want to do more, return the favor or ride you until my legs shake.”

“You can return the favor another time. Let me see you ride my dick, doll,” Bucky growled. Another time?

You crawled onto Bucky’s lap after he discarded his boxers letting his dick spring up, the tip red from lack of attention. It shocked you if you were being honest, it was so… big.

“Is that gonna fit?” you asked genuinely.

“Yeah, it will; but if it hurts too much you tell me to stop ok?” you nodded.

Bucky reached behind your back and unclasped your bra only to toss it to wherever the rest of your clothes were. His hands caressing your breasts; thumbs rubbing over your sensitive nipples, sending chills throughout your body. He kissed along your collarbone to your neck to your jaw before whispering in your ear.

“I have to grab a condom from the bathroom, baby girl. Sorry,” he began to move you.

“Why are you sorry?” you stopped him.

“I don’t wanna ruin the mood but safety is important before anything else.”

You weren’t gonna lie that actually kinda shocked you; and turned you on even more. You had completely forgotten about having a condom. You were on the pill but that doesn't mean you shouldn’t still use a condom. Bucky was back in no time and you took the condom from him wanting to put it on for him. Bucky moaned as you wrapped his dick and soon enough you were ready to go, arousal practically dripping down your inner thighs.

Bucky’s hand lid up to the back of your neck as you slid down his cock; both moaning at the feeling. You took a second to move but when you did things practically fell into pace. You quickly found a good rhythm for the both of you and soon enough you felt yourselves growing near climax.

Bucky’s hands gripped at your ass, grunting and moaning at the feeling of your walls gliding in and out of you. He smacked your ass leaving a slight red-ish mark for you to admire later. You pulled him closer, if that was even possible, burying your face in between Bucky’s neck and shoulder.

“I can feel ya getting close, baby. Fucking squeezing me. Feels so good, princess.”

“I'm gonna come, I’m so close.”

“Don’t come until I say so. Hold it, I know you can. Be my good little girl and fucking hold it.”

You sucked and kissed and licked his neck leaving little marks not nearly as big as the ones he was leaving all over you. Soon enough you felt the coil building in the pit of your stomach snap and you moaned so loud into Bucky’s ear, he almost came from hearing your moans.

“Sorry I literally screamed in your ear.”

“I told you not to come until I say so.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t hold it anymore. You felt too good,” you whispered, barely audible.

“That doesn’t matter. I told you to hold it,” Bucky got off the bed and reached for his pants. You got so scared that he was going to leave; terrified. But instead he took his belt he was wearing and stalked back towards you. Oh how the butterflies in your stomach fluttered right now.

“Arms up baby girl. You don’t get to touch me now.”

You complied, your stomach fluttering immensely at the mere thought of what Bucky was going to do with you now. When he finished looping the belt around the headboard of the bed his hands ran along your entire body kissing here and there until back up to you.

“Too tight?” you shook your head.

“Perfect. Winter; say the word and I stop,” he kissed passionately, sliding back in you, pussy sensitive from orgasming twice tonight.

Bucky didn’t take as much time as you did before starting to slam into you over and over again. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, toes curling in themselves, tears brimming your eyes. Bucky fingers dug into your waist surely leaving more marks for you in the morning.

His hand came up to wrap around your neck and squeezed ever so slightly.

“Feel good? My little fucking slut, whining and wiggling under me,” Bucky said, more to himself than anything.

“Fuck-” you moaned. You wrists rubbing against the belt, trying to pull away so you could touch Bucky.

“What is it? You wanna touch me,” Bucky’s hand squeezed a bit more and you moaned even louder, legs wrapping around his waist pulling him closer that way.

“Oh good please Bucky, let me touch you!”

“Uh-uh, bad girls don’t get what they want. If you want to touch me you have to beg me like the good little whore you are,” Bucky growled.

“Fuck Bucky please, I’ll do anything for you just me let me touch you. Please, please, please!”

“Tell me your mine.”

“I’m yours, Buck. All fucking yours. No one else’s!”

“No one is ever gonna fuck as good as I do. Your mine.”

“Yes! I’m yours, oh god,” you moaned.

Bucky was extremely close to cumming and so were you so he undid the belt with one hand skillfully and your arms wrapped around his body pulling as close to you as humanly possible. Your hands ran through his hair and pulled hard as you both fell over the edge. Bucky settled between your legs for a minute kissing your breasts, your chest heaving trying to catch your breath.

Bucky got up and discarded the condoms making sure there were no tears or rips considering how rough he’d been with you. He didn’t intend to be rough at first but his mind was so clouded with you he practically lost control; but you didn’t mind not one bit.

Bucky came back with bottled water from a small refrigerator he kept in the corner of his room and held you back and head as you brought the water to your lips. After satisfying your dry and hoarse throat, Bucky picked you up and set down on his bathroom counter, the cold of the marble counter in extreme contrast to your hot skin.

He cleaned you up and inspected your wrists making sure you weren’t hurt; although they were quite red and would probably hurt in the morning. Lastly, he grabbed a wipe and cleaned the remaining mess of makeup you had put on the night before speaking up again.

“Was I too rough? I didn’t mean to be,” Bucky caressing the sides of your waist. You shocked your head no; the face with a blissfully fucked out expression and a smile making Bucky chuckle. He rubbed your skin with lotion to ease any irritation anything may have caused and kissed the marks he made during sex. He admits that he really likes seeing you marked up by him knowing he’s the only one who gets to see them and make them. Makes him proud that he was able to fuck so good and you loved it too.

He picked you up and took you to bed; kissing you all over one last time before letting you fall asleep in his arms. The last thing you heard before you fell asleep was Bucky whispering about how good were to him, calling you his good little girl; rubbing your back ever so softly putting you to sleep.

+++

You woke the next morning arms and legs tangled with another. You turn your head to find Bucky Barnes’ face tucked into your neck soft breaths tickling your skin. You rubbed his arms and back, nails lightly scratching him causing him to stir a bit.

Bucky pressed soft kisses against your skin and rested his large warm hands on your ass and thighs. You felt the urge to use the restroom and haven’t going last night, you figured you should as soon as possible. Prying your mildly sweaty body from his was obviously unsuccessful with how much stronger he was compared to you. His legs moved further in between your thighs and he began kissing your chest making you giggle in return.

“Bucky, I have to use the restroom,” you grabbed his face.

“Oh, sorry,” he chuckled and released his hold on you, not without whining of course.

You ran into his bathroom and shut the door. When you turned around you gasped realizing how marked up you were. Dark purple spots littered all over your chest and neck. Your wrists were bright red from the belt he used last night; however they didn’t hurt, a bit sore but not painful. Your thighs were also decorated with love bites and hickeys from Bucky last night and you smiled to yourself.

After you used the bathroom you cleaned yourself as well as possible but admittedly needed a shower in the end. You opened the door only to find Bucky, grinning like a little boy. You folded your hands underneath your chin evidently hiding your body with your arms as much as you could.

Bucky came up to you and placed his hands on your waist kissing the top of your head before turning you around to look at yourself in the bathroom mirror. His body was flush against your and you could feel his dick sitting against your ass and lower back. His face came up and rested on your shoulder then grabbed your hands to wrap them behind his head and yours.

You played with his hair a bit feeling so confident and loved by the affection Bucky has been giving since you came into his room. His hands ran across your body everywhere they could reach before making eye contact with you in the mirror.

“Look at you, goddamn.”

“What?” you chuckled.

“Do you see what I’m seeing?”

You shook your head, feeling incredibly shy suddenly.

“Look how fucking beautiful and gorgeous and perfect you are. Geez, I can’t even handle it.”

You laughed out at how dramatic he was being.

“Goddamn, I could stare at your perfect body all fucking day,” he whispered, it wasn’t in a sensual tone however. It was almost like he was saying to himself, like he actually wanted to do as such.

“Please stay,” he asked you.

“Are you ok?” you sensed he was being incredibly serious, almost about to cry even.

His sad painted with sadness, eyes begging you to stay with him for the day. He wanted something with you.he wanted to be yours and hoped to God that you’d be his in return.

“Stay with me. Please?” you realized you didn’t think he was talking about staying for now, he meant stay with him, as a partner.

“What happened?” you caressed his face in your hands. He lifted you and placed you on the counter Like he did the night before, settling his hips in between your legs.

“They always leave,” he whispered.

“Who? ”

“I didn’t want to just sleep around with girls anymore so I started talking to them and taking them out but every time the night we had sex, they would always leave. I tried talking to them the next day but they always said they didn’t want anything out of it. So I stopped having sex altogether.”

Your heart ached for him. You didn’t want to do that to him. Of course you thought about it, but that was clearly before you realized Bucky wanted to be with you.

“I won’t leave.”

“We can stay in my room all day. You don’t even have to get out of bed. I can grab a couple game consoles from downstairs and we play on the tv. We order breakfast. I’ll wash your clothes. We have a washing machine in the basement,” Bucky said excitedly, you smiled excited as well for your day with Bucky.

“Can we take a shower first?” you asked.

“Yes of course, let’s take a shower.”

“Let’s?” you wiggled your eyebrows.

“Of course. Maybe we can pop in a couple rounds while we’re at it,” Bucky winked.

“Bucky!”

______________________

Ok, all done. :) Hope you liked it and maybe give it a little like or reblog? You don’t have to though lol

ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ!

@baddie-barnes

@calwitch

@red42985

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes #bucky fluff #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #collage!bucky #collage au #au #james buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes smut

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free-pancakes · 3 years ago

Note

WRITE A LEVIHAN FIC ADTER THE FIRST WORD YOU THINK OF WHEN YOU SEE THIS LETTER: H

Alright moon, i thought of H for Hawkeye. Not sure if you're a Marvel fan, but here goes. I got a little carried away bc I love an AU where Hange is Hawkeye and Levi is Black Widow.

hope you like it <3

Levi held the tesseract in his hand, staring at its mesmerizing, light blue glow as he held it up to his face.

“Looks like we’re here for the same thing, huh, Mr. Ackerman?”

Levi quickly pulled the cube close to his chest, revealing someone standing on the other side of the room, staring right back at him. Her big brown eyes glowered behind thick-lensed classes, brown hair tied messily in a high ponytail. She swiftly reached back to reveal a bow and arrow, now pointed directly at him.

“If you hand it over, I promise I won’t kill you!” She said playfully.

Levi frowned and grit his teeth in annoyance.

“Are you mocking me, Four-Eyes?”

She laughed heartily— “Well, people usually call me Hawkeye, but you know what? I’ll let you call me that instead!” With that, she launched her arrow at him, Levi’s reflexes so fast, he dodged it right on time. However, he didn’t expect the arrow to explode.

The blast blew Levi off to the side, and soon Hange already had a hand gripped on his arm. He twisted to grab it, throwing Hange down right on her back. Levi reached for his gun, but she was too quick—Hange punched upwards to launch his handgun from its holster, sending it across the room. Levi quickly countered with a kick, sending Hange’s bow sliding across the tiled floor.

Off they were into hand to hand combat, each punch caught by the other, every kick countered with a dodge. Levi was thrown for a loop. He’d met his match.

It was the most frustrating fight he’s had for awhile, yet, he found himself smiling—and he could have sworn he saw a smile on her face as well.

Suddenly, explosions sounded from the ceiling, confusing Levi. Hange had already set the explosives prior to meeting him.

While he was distracted, Hange grabbed the tesseract, but Levi countered quickly, sending the cube flying. Levi ran as Hange scrambled for her bow. When she turned, a huge chunk of debris came falling towards Levi.

“Levi—wait!” She yelled. Luckily, she sent an explosive arrow towards it, blasting it and preventing it from crushing Levi. Smaller pieces showered down, but to Hange’s dismay, one piece of debris was still much too big. Levi stared up and it hit him straight on the head, his vision going black.

Levi woke up suddenly, quickly sitting straight up. His heart raced, and sweat beaded on his temple as he tried catching his breath. Disoriented, he looked around fast, blinking the sleep from his eyes. Once he came to his senses, he gasped and stared downwards—Hange was still asleep, her head rested on his lap. Safe.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he leaned back, staring up at the walls of the metal air vents they had been hiding up in for the last 5 days. Little scratches in the walls of word games, tic tac toe, stupid things to fill the time as they waited on the go from Erwin.

But Levi’s thoughts quickly switched back to dwelling upon his dream—clearly the first time he met Hange had been on his mind, and he couldn’t stop thinking about it. They went from enemies to… whatever this was, real fast. This was their 10th mission together, and here they were, stuck hiding out in a small space inside the air vents of a subway station in Budapest. After finishing this mission, Levi would be taken in as a trusted agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. It was crazy how fast the tables turned for him—in a good way, for once.

He looked down, and rubbed the back of his hand against Hange’s cheek to wake her up. Her eyebrows furrowed as she woke, turning up to face Levi, giving him a little smile. Levi ran his fingers over the side of her covered eye, scratching away at the dried blood clinging to her skin.

“Get up, Hange. We have to change the dressing on your eye.”

Hange stretched sleepily, and sat up. Levi grabbed some supplies, and knelt in front of her, peeling the medical tape and gauze away carefully. He brought an alcohol pad, wiping away the dried blood.

“Can you see?”

Hange opened her eye.

“Yes, don’t worry! Though I’ll probably just have a nasty scar to remember this mission together forever!” she exclaimed with a tired laugh. Her persistent optimism never failed to surprise Levi.

“There’s been something on my mind, Hange.” “Oh, and what’s that?”

Levi hesitated, but continued with his burning questions—they spilled out of him so fast he couldn’t control himself.

“Why did you choose to save me that day? Why didn’t you just take the tesseract and run? Why did you think I’d be someone that should work as a part of S.H.I.E.L.D.? Why—“

Hange laughed. “Suddenly so talkative, Levi!”

Levi grumbled. “Just, can you answer??”

Hange grew silent for once. She thought back to when she was tasked to learn everything she could about Levi, following him all over the world. She remembered when her turning point was—a time when Levi planted explosives in a building, but rushed back in when he realized three innocent children had been lurking around where they shouldn’t have been. And that was when she learned something the world didn’t—Levi Ackerman wasn’t truly the cold-blooded killer everyone thought he was.

And she took her chance on that.

“Hm, well, I could almost say the same to you! Why did you choose to trust me? Why did you decide to stay with us? You had every chance to leave, it’s not like we had you imprisoned or anything this entire time?”

Levi thought about their first meeting—how he had never met someone else that matched an equal combat ability to himself. It grasped his attention quickly. But what really drew him to stay, was that Hange genuinely trusted him, stood up for him… believed in him. No one had ever done this for him since he was a child—only his mother ever did.

Levi laid the new set of gauze on Hange’s eye, and taped it down snugly.

Their true thoughts lingered in their heads, but neither of them could bring themselves to say their reasons out loud. Their eyes met for a moment.

A beeping roused them from their trance.

“Oh, must be Erwin,” Hange said with nervous laughter, trying to ignore the intimate moment they just shared.

She read the alert message. “Levi, it’s time to go,” she said with a serious tone.

“You ready to take down Zeke once and for all?” She said with a devious grin.

Levi smirked. Of course he was ready to fight with Hange—fighting back to back with her might actually be his absolute favorite thing in the world.

“Let’s do it.”

#levihan #levihan fanfic #levi x hange #levi ackerman #hange zoe #hanji zoe #avengers au #marvel au #lkafja;sldkf i love marvel so much and this was so fun to write oh gosh #wahhhh i loved it way too much bc im a big nerd #thanks for the ask moon!#ask #replies

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spilledkauffie · 4 years ago

Text

Finally Home

Pairing: Din Djarin (Mandalorian) x reader Word Count: 2.6k T/W: light smut? mentions of bruises. A/N: Taking a bath with Mando and it’s been a while since you’ve seen each other. I know it ends a little abruptly, I’m sorry, but I didn’t want to make it too smutty...that’ll come later.

It had been longer than you expected. But you tried not to dwell on that. Instead, you preoccupied yourself with scrubbing down a dish until it was gleaming nearly as bright as pure Beskar. Beskar...there you went again, but you couldn’t help it. You kept your eyes longingly fixed on the sky, hoping, wishing...little did you know today was the day. Before you knew it a familiar engine flew overhead, the craft landing was the one you’d been waiting for. Dropping the dish immediately, you rushed out the door of the humble little place you called home. It wasn’t very fancy, but it just so happened to be a perfect place for one Mandalorian to lay low.

The engines cut and you ran closer, soon finding the figure you were looking for headed your direction, calmly and slowly. You knew he was already bracing for impact, so you didn’t make it for naught. The sand was getting everywhere as you ran towards him with a smile across your face, but for once you didn’t care. You reached your arms up and practically jumped into his arms. He was definitely ready for it, holding you tightly against him, he kept your feet off the ground as you hugged him tighter.

Pulling back you bit your lip, but quickly wriggled your way out of his arms and backed away for a moment, playfully shoving his chest, which hardly moved him.

“One week, one week,” you tried not to giggle as you attempted to sound upset, even putting your hands on your hips when you stepped away from him, “that’s what you told me. And what did I get? Four weeks!”

“I know,” Din nodded slowly, looking off and then back at you, “I’m sorry. I got- sidetracked.”

Sidetracked, which really meant getting himself into a dodgy predicament, having to escape, then getting into more trouble. That was the usual situation, so you went with it.

You tilted your head and sighed a long hum, dropping your arms to your sides, as you turned to walk away, “it’s fine, ya know, while you were gone,” you lifted a hand, “I did meet a very friendly young Twi’lek who-“

“You what?” The Mandalorian grasped your wrist, not too harshly, but rough enough to stop you and turn you back to face him when he pulled you closer in his direction.

You stared at the dark gleaming slits in his helmet. Lasting only a few seconds before a smile broke its way through. You were biting at your lower lip again as Din kept his hold around your wrist. The cool leather reminding you how much you missed him.

“I’m teasing you,” you admitted, sweetly giving him the reassurance he needed to hear, “I stayed where you told me to and waited for you...like always”

“Oh,” he said, gently and slowly letting you go, “right.” You could sense he was a little embarrassed at the missed cue to your teasing, but also that he could get so easily jealous.

“But,” you stepped closer, pressing up against his armour, you felt how cool it was as you traced a few scratches that indicated close calls on his chest plate, “I like that adrenaline, didn’t get your fill of it out there?”

You gazed up at the stars starting to appear over the planet with nightfall. He watched you smile up at the sky, wishing he could have taken you with him. Placing his covered hand atop yours, now casually spread against his chest, he squeezed your hand a little, never taking his gaze off you.

“Actually,...it’s been a little rough out there.”

His voice, so soft, a little hoarse, but always sincere, drew your attention back to him. You paused, dropping the playfulness, a sudden wave of reality hit you. He could have been hurt or worse, and you were teasing him. All you cared about now was that he was finally home. You swallowed harshly, and batted your eyelashes, looking down, slightly flustered at how emotional you were suddenly becoming.

“I shouldn’t have told you, I’m-“

“Don’t apologise, Din” you looked back up at him, “I’m just happy you’re back home,” you gave him a smile, this time a truly in love heartfelt smile, “I missed you so much.”

You placed your hands on the sides of his helmet. Feeling his hand caress the side of your neck, you pushed onto your tiptoes to press your forehead against his helmet’s. He lowered his head to help you out.

“I missed you too,” he said when his hand found the nape of your neck.

It was moments like this that you wanted to stay in forever.

“C’mon, let’s get you inside, it’s getting dark anyway,” you wrapped an arm around him, his arm resting atop your shoulder.

He always had to duck to get in, but it was quaint. You noticed he was a little slow to sit, and once he finally was, he leaned his head back like this was the first time in a long time he was actually relaxing. You smiled at him, putting away the dishes you had abandoned.

“And when was the last time you cleaned up?” you asked, “please tell me you haven’t been lodging at Dagobah again.”

“No,” Din said, with a hint of amusement in his voice as he answered, “I wouldn’t mind some fresh water though.”

You dried your hands and came over to him, “I’ll get a bath going, yeah? Should give you enough time to get the armour off at least.”

He nodded, watching you walk deeper into the house. He couldn’t deny that he’d missed you, your kindness, your voice, but most of all your understanding. It seemed everywhere else he went, someone had to make light of his beliefs and practices, but here he was safe. He thought more and more about it as he removed his armour piece by piece, setting them on the table. He had no worry that someone would try and take it when he was with you. It was so secluded where you were he almost had no worries whatsoever.

As you brought the towels down from a cabinet, you turned to notice Mando walking down the hallway, ever the swagger in his steps that he just couldn’t help. You always found it strange at first to see him without his armour, all that was left was a loosely fitted linen shirt, tucked in at his waist, his trousers with a belt and of course, his helmet. He stopped in the doorway leaning against it, watching as you set out the towels, he tilted his head. Turning to fully see him, you eyed him over. He had one knee bent as he rested most of his weight on the other, causing his hips to slant, and his arms crossed over his chest. Your lips parted at the sight of his skin where his shirt parted, revealing his chest. You trailed your gaze up to his collarbones barely peeking out from the fabric’s edge, up to his bare neck.

Mando tipped his head the other way, “liking what you see?” he teased you now.

You closed your mouth, and responded as confidently as you could, heart pounding in your chest, “I always do,” blushing, you dipped your head, walking towards the door as he entered.

“Stay,” he said somewhere between a request and a command, once he was past you.

You turned to face him. He was already pulling his shirt over his helmet, a smooth transition as he was used to it. His shoulder blades squeezed together as he reached up, his skin was tight over the muscles flexing with his movements. “It’s been awhile,” you said timidly, pinching your pinky between your thumb and index finger, he looked over his shoulder at you silently, as you spoke, “I didn’t want to cross any lines if you didn’t want me to, ya know...”

He gave a hoarse chuckle, “You know I don’t mind you seeing everything else,” he said, no longer facing you, methodically folding his shirt to set it aside, “so? Join me?” he looked over his shoulder again, this time his torso turning with him, flexing his beautiful abdomen.

You nodded, returning to the center of the room to remove your own clothing. Your heart raced as you lost more of your clothes to the bathroom floor. When Din sat at the edge of the metal bathtub, he took off his boots, sand coming out of one. He stared at you through the helmet as the sand poured onto the ground, you giggled covering your mouth with a hand, as he shook his head looking between you and the boot until it was finished.

He stood to set the boots by the rest of his belongings. One thing caught your attention though. Stepping closer, you hugged him very carefully from behind, kissing around some bruises he had recently acquired on spots where the Beskar didn’t quite cover. He shuddered a little from the contact of your warm chest against his back and your lips pressing warmly against him; you heard him sharply suck in a breath before relaxing.

“Believe it or not,” you spoke softly, turning your head to the side, nuzzling against his skin, “I think it hurts me more to see you like this, than it hurts you to get these.”

Continuing to undo his belt, not minding your arms around him, he nodded, “I’d believe it.” Smiling to yourself and biting in your lower lip, you let him go, hands trailing down his back before you took a few steps back. Trying not to be too clingy, you knew there might be some readjusting, but then again he did just invite you to get naked with him. Either way, you wanted him to be the one to start anything, if anything were to happen. You got distracted in your thoughts, by the next time you looked over he was waist deep in the bath, slowly lowering himself into the water, trying not to disrupt the surface too much.

His helmet made a slight clink against the edge as he leaned his head back, but you thought it was adorable. The sharp little sound of the Beskar against the metal was like a little bell to your ears. He then looked over to you, silently holding a hand out for you to join him. Walking over to the edge, you accepted his hand. Once you were standing in the water, he let go of your hand tracing it down the side of your thigh, causing water to drip off his forearm. As you lowered yourself into the tub, his hand slid down, until it was against your bent knee while you comfortably adjusted. He caressed the back of your knee softly pulling your calf up out of the water, bringing his other hand to stroke along the side of it.

You giggled quietly at his touch, “it’s been a while,” he suddenly said, voice still static under the helmet.

“It has,” you agreed, a smile pulling at your lips.

You slipped your unoccupied foot against his leg underneath the water.. Dropping your head to rest against the edge now, your wet neck exposed as you stretched back slightly. Though you couldn’t actually see it, you felt Din’s gaze heavy on you as you exhaled and inhaled. Chest just beneath the water, almost breaching the surface when you inhaled, but not quite.

Lifting you head, you saw you were right, he was looking straight at you, “you get lonely in space?” you asked, biting the inside of your bottom lip, never taking your eyes off him.

He slowly stopped stroking your calf, setting it back down in the water. He moved a little closer towards you, he reached for your wrists resting on the tub. With his fingers tightly encircling your wrist he coaxingly pulled you over to him, until you were straddling his waist. His hands then travelled up your thighs, until he found your hips, keeping you in place. Your skin was glistening, he brought one hand up your spine to caress your curves. Pressing his palm deeper into the small of your back making you hum a moan of pleasure.

“Sometimes,” he finally answered, “you get lonely being grounded?”

You smiled, tilting your head back at his touch finally against you. Stroking your hands up his soaking chest and against his neck, until you reached the sides of his helmet. Water dripped off it from where your hands were now clutching it.

“Sometimes,” you answered him. “I promise you: I’ll close my eyes,” you said, eyes heavy with lust, but hands steady as you waited for his consent, “like every time before.”

“Okay,” he agreed, trusting you, as he always did.

You closed your eyes before you even began to lift the helmet. When you had it off, you held it with one hand over the edge of the tub behind him. Your other hand’s fingertips gliding up his neck, feeling him swallow before you caressed his jawline, dragging your thumb across his bottom lip, you smiled. Ghosting your hand gently against his cheek bone, your fingertips soon met his curls. Combing a hand into his hair you bit your lip and hummed.

“You’re going to have to help me out a little bit,” you quirked an eyebrow, but kept your eyes closed as promised, “you are a bounty hunter, I doubt you’ll miss the target.”

There was a pause, for a fleeting moment you’d wondered if you’d crossed a line too soon, but before you could ask his hand was against the back of your neck pulling you down into a deep kiss. It was hardly what you were expecting him to start with. His thumb stroked your cheek before pushing back into your hair as you tried to gain control of yourself enough to kiss back. His mouth moved perfectly against yours, it was like he was never gone.

You practically melted against him, your free hand explored his hair, wetting it with the water from your palm. Your other hand clutched tighter to the cool metal of the helmet, knuckles turning white at the grip you were giving it. His lips led the perfect motion, his hands clung to your body with a ravenous desire, you felt his abdomen tighten and his chest heave when you broke the kiss.

Din softly tugged your lower lip between his teeth as you pulled back, cursing through a moan. You caught your breath and he kissed along your jawline. Feeling him move his leg, your body slid a little closer to his yet. Grasping the back of your thighs, his hands hiked you up a little more, setting you right on his hip bones, making you giggle his name.

Dipping to suck at your neck, he wrapped his arms around your torso, almost pressing your chest to his. He liked the feeling of your wet skin against his. You breathed heavier bringing a hand through his hair to rest at the nape of his neck now. His kisses were hot and you could already feel the bruises they were going to leave as he took your skin between his teeth and soothed it with his tongue.

“Din-” You sighed softly, until his lips hit your sweet spot. With a euphoric gasp, you dropped the helmet. Even the echoing sound of Beskar hitting the floor didn’t mask the sound of your pleasure.

He pulled back, “I think I hit the target,” you heard him say, practically purring in your ear.

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since0202 · 4 years ago

Text

A monster lives here

Summary: Grace Alo is exiled to Forks, Washington after being kicked out of high school right before senior year. The recent passing of her father mixed with moving into a shared bedroom with her cousin was enough to shake up any teenager's life. But upon her return, a inevitable meeting forces her to confront who she's destined to become to protect the home and people she loves.

Status: Ongoing

Ao3; Fanfiction.net

Chapter 1: Move

July

The summer before her senior year was when Principal Beeter officially signed off on Grace Alo's expulsion from Westmoore Highschool.

Probably for the best if she's being honest.

"Maybe I'll just get my GED and bounce off to the west coast and find something cool...there," Grace told her friend Margot between demolishing her second cherry slurpie.

"Right, because that totally works out for everyone," she mumbled back. "Imean, you didn't even do anything really. So what, one tiny trailer–"

"Can we not?" Grace interjected.

"Yeah, sorry." Margot cleared her throat and her eyes rolled up toward the sky.

"Mom's gonna kill me." Grace's eyes ran over the length of the highway. From below, she could just see the cars skirting the top of the overpass. She wished she was in one of those cars headed far from here.

Grace took one big deep breath and shook the nervous pain from her hands before grasping the handle and pushing open the front door.

Her mom was in the front hall, phone to her ear and back turned. This ought to be good. She could only make out the last bit of what she was saying:

"No, yeah, I really appreciate it. Thanks again, Charlie." Grace's mother hung up and held a hand to her eyes.

"Everything okay?"

She jumped and spun around to face her daughter, one hand still resting up on her forehead. At first, Grace thought she wasn't actually mad at her, but her body posture quickly tensed up, hackles raised, hands coming to rest firmly on her hips. Here it came.

"Grace, I have..no words," her anger was palpable. Grace had always been a little sensitive to those things, but this was new-her anger was rolling off of her in waves and making its way down the hall to crash over Grace.

"Mom, honestly, truly, I am so so sorry. I never thought-"

"No. You didn't. You never think." Harsh. Was she shaking or was that just a trick of the light?

"Mom, please. What can I do?" Grace was trembling now and a ringing sound was growing in her head. She could feel her fight or flight kicking in but had nowhere to run to. This was home.

She'd been in trouble before, but never like this. Sure, she'd never been kicked out of school before, but she was familiar with not having a plan. Not like this.

"Who was that on the phone?" she asked suddenly. Grace hadn't moved from her position from the door. The light backlit her mother's frame, the gold light washed over her, illuminating her auburn hair and pale skin. Her green eyes flashed up at me every so often with a look of determination and fatigue fazing through them. Her eyes were the only thing Grace inherited from her mother that she could place. her warm complexion, broad face, and silky black hair was reminiscent of her father. Every time her mom looked at her, she could see it and Grace would feel pain sweep through her all over again, even if it had lessened over time.

"That was your Uncle Charlie. You're moving to Forks." Her eyes were stern, but her lip quivered and she looked at Grace like it was the last time. They both knew it wasn't but her mom felt things harder than any person she'd known other than her dad. But, Grace could tell by the look on her face that she meant it.

"Wait, what?"

Charlie slammed the trunk shut as Grace settled into the front seat of his police cruiser. Sea-Tac was a bustling airport, but where she was headed was nowhere near this level of hopping. Even Oklahoma City blew Forks, Washington out of the water when it came to city centers.

Charlie settled into the driver seat and gave her a quick grin, which she tried to reciprocate quickly but it may have turned into a grimace. Grace turned her attention out the window as Charlie accelerated onto the road connecting to the highway.

"Bells is excited to see you." Charlie suddenly quipped. "And I got your registration at Forks High all squared away."

"Great, thanks." Grace kept her eyes on the deepening green protruding from the sidewalks, around bends, and over railings. They drove in uninterrupted silence for which she was thankful. Charlie was good that way-not too overbearing, didn't really hover, or force conversation. It was nice and she enjoyed the peace.

"Billy was asking about you." And just like that, the silence was gone. Grace cringed. "Billy Black. You remember him right?" A lump caught in her throat as she tried to keep her breathing even. Charlie waited a minute before continuing. "You know, he stopped by the house the day after I talked to your mom. Brought his son Jake with him, too. He's real excited that you're back in town."

Grace could feel him glance her way, mostly by the sound that his police blazer made as he looked over his extended right arm, but she didn't meet his gaze.

Billy Black.

She hadn't been back to the Quileute reservation in La Push in years. Even before dad died, Grace hadn't seen the familiar beach or sat in the quiet, dated homes, or sat around the communal fire at council meetings for awhile. But after her dad died, it became harder to go back. And once they moved to Oklahoma for his new job, her old life seemed to fade away. The reservation was always the same in her mind, like an old friend, waiting for her inevitable return. But it made her sad more than anything at this point. The comfort she once found there evaporated with her father's spirit. Going back now felt too hard.

Billy had called the house a bunch after we moved away. He was her dad's best friend. And then after her dad died, the cracks in his voice were too much to handle. So, she stopped picking up or taking the phone from her mom when he called and just let things dissipate-distance again, quiet.

The rain slicked roads sounded like a hushed whisper as we whizzed over the bridge and broke into the town of Forks. The small town was familiar too, but not home.

Charlie hadn't said much else on the drive in and once they pulled into the driveway of the Swan house, she breathed a sigh of relief and pushed the passenger door open, gulping in damp, warm air. The air was so much different here. It didn't feel like freedom, but possibility hung in the air more than in the dust of Oklahoma.

Grace hitched her backpack over her shoulder and trudged up the front steps—Charlie was close behind lugging her two heavy suitcases. She tried to reach for one but he shrugged her off with a chuckle and ushered her into the house.

When the door creaked open, Bella peeked her head around the corner in the kitchen, a warm smile breaking across her face.

"Grace!" she beamed and walked briskly across the small landing, lightly tripping over the threshold from the kitchen with a soft 'oh'. She wrapped her in a hug and Grace breathed a sigh of relief. This felt a little more like home. She smelled like soft lavender and some kind of sweet spice.

Bella and Grace grew close when she would visit the reservation and Charlie's during her two-week summers with him. When they weren't together, they wrote letters sporadically which evolved into weekly phone calls. Bella and Grace's mothers were still pretty close—they even road tripped through Oklahoma a few years ago and took them to the Phillbrooke Museum of Art. Grace hasn't laughed that much since then.

Grace had heard through her mom that Bella was moving to Forks so Renee could take off with Phil but Grace hadn't heard much aside from the occasional email here and there. Bella told her that she had met a guy and that things were "intense" but good. Grace had raised her eyebrows at that and vaguely remembered sending back something short in response. She did that a lot lately.

When they pulled back from the hug, Bella held onto the bottoms of Grace's elbows and smiled. Grace's thick plait had loosened on the flight and she felt scrubby.

"Come on, come upstairs." She clasped her hand in hers. Grace couldn't help but give a small smile as Bella tugged her up the narrow staircase and across the short hallway to her bedroom. Well, their shared bedroom now.

The size of the room wasn't bad. She had pushed her full bed up closer to the far window to make space and pushed her low dresser across from the foot of her bed. The small desk was shoved on the short wall directly to the right and Grace's bed sat under the large bay window that looked over the side yard and into the woods.

Her bed was covered in a soft, plush light green duvet with two fluffy pillows. her eyes rested on the black and white patterned blanket at the foot of the bed and her mouth drew into a hard line. Grace couldn't speak for a moment. "Is that…?"

"Yeah, Billy had Jake drop it off the last time he was here. A welcome home present, I guess. Hey, are you okay?" Bella pulled her hands from her back pockets and rested one on Grace's arm which prompted her to pull her face up and give a reassuring smile.

"Yeah, of course! This is great Bells, thanks." Charlie had been leaning against the doorframe, chaperoning her suitcases as Bella gave the tour.

She pulled open a little side closet that rested next to her bed. It held a small white chest of drawers that had little purple flowers painted on it.

"You can put your clothes in there." Bella gestured. Grace shot a look at Charlie.

"You painted those purple flowers yourself Charlie?" she teased. He held his hands up in surrender.

"Guilty." Bella and Grace laughed. She sat on the edge of her bed, fingers curling around the loose threads at the end of the blanket. Warmth rushed over her as she traced her fingers along the familiar pattern from her childhood.

This can work. She thought.

The next few days, Grace spent her time settling in, drawing, reading, and unpacking. Bella and Grace actually settled well into a routine together, sharing bathroom space, one showering while the other brushed their teeth, maximizing the bathroom space efficiently. Bella was a quiet sleeper, but Grace couldn't find it in her to sleep just yet, so she would stare up and above her head out the window trying to catch a side of the moon just waning out of sight.

Her third afternoon in Forks, Bella called from the bottom of the stairs.

"Come meet Edward!" she yelled. Grace skipped out of bed and shuffled down the steps, running a hand through her dark hair to try and tame it away from her face.

Bella had told her about Edward on her first night there. They'd stayed up too late, cross-legged on Bella's bed as she picked at pilling on her pajama pants and spoke in a hurried but elated voice about the Edward.

She had been right though, it sounded intense. While she winded her way through the last eight months, Grace couldn't help but feel bad that she hadn't been more engaged in her emails with her. Grace must have sounded pretty switched off to Bella. Faraway. She had picked up on none of this information about Edward in their email exchanges.

"He's really great. Unlike anyone I've ever met, honestly." she laughed a little at this and Grace tilted her head curiously.

"Oh yeah?" her eyes flitted onto her bed and back up toward Grace a couple times. She opened and closed her mouth as if to say something and landed on an exasperated sigh before smiling.

"Yeah, you're just going to have to meet him for yourself."

Color me interested, Bells. Grace thought.

When she landed on the bottom step, Grace looked to Bella who was standing next to a tall, pale, but generally handsome guy. Her brain hesitated over the word 'guy'. He seemed—felt—otherworldly somehow.

"Hey." she gave a tight lipped, but friendly smile. "I'm Grace, I've heard so much about you."

His eyes seemed incredibly kind and their golden hue was captivating but she still found herself tilting her head, as if she was trying to see around his eyes, golden orbs that wouldn't quite turn and reveal a hidden side. His eyes stayed focused on intently on Grace, undisturbed.

He dipped his head in response to her head tilt and smiled warmly (a hint of menace?) and held out a leather gloved hand.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Edward as Bella said. She's been very excited to have you here, so I've been really excited to meet you." Grace extended her hand to meet his.

As his hand closed around hers—light, but firm—Grace heard a low rumble, like thunder, building behind her left ear. The sound grew rapidly and felt like a building rush from a broken river coming up behind her to sweep her away. She was frozen in place thought and felt that rumble crowd into her head and start to vibrate violently.

From the top of her head, the rumble gained in speed and sound, pounding and pulling at her chest in a downward wave, crashing through her feet and rippling out around her. As the thunder left out of the bottom of her feet, the ripple manifested in a rolling wave under the floorboards, silent but moving away.

Grace audibly gasped but didn't pull her hand back, her eyes quickly scanning the floor for that outward ripple. The feeling had lasted less than 2 seconds.

"Did you see that?" her eyes shot up from the floor and landed on Edward. Grace thought she saw his lip curl ever so slightly. Bella looked unperturbed but her eyes widened in surprise.

"See what?" she looked around her. Grace took a beat and felt her heart settle as the aftershock of the ripple left her body, small vibrations smoothing into nothing.

"Nothing." she said shaking her head and letting her hand fall from Edwards. He looked nonplussed and raised his eyebrows comically at Bella.

"Well, Edward was gonna take me on a hike. Did you want to come?" Bella asked. Edward's face looked measured but somewhat surprised.

Something in Grace told her not to go.

"Nah, I'm going to check in with her mom and get some reading done." she replied, tucking some stray strands of hair behind her ear.

"Another bookworm. The likeness is growing." Edward said smoothly, a small smile peeling his mouth open and a glittering chuckle rolled out. Grace shrugged and wished them well and headed back upstairs to her room.

When she was safely behind the closed bedroom door, she let go of a full breath that caused her heart rate to spike. Her breathing became ragged and she felt an icy tingle snake slowly up her back. It felt like panic, but she wasn't sure why. Could it be what she felt when she shook Edward's hand? That was pretty weird, but it hadn't been followed by a sense of rising panic.

She put a hand over her chest and one on her stomach trying to take slow, smooth breaths like the counselor had told her. The one she'd seen when her dad died.

Focus on something still, calm your breath, calm your mind. In and out. In and out.

But every exhale came out as shuddering, then gasping breaths. Grace could feel her pulse quicken, beating against the skin of her wrist as if the blood was trying to burst through.

She collapsed onto her bed and her vision started to blur and go dark. It was over, this life, it had to be. This was it. But as the ceiling blurred in and out of focus, Grace wasn't upset or scared. As her vision faded, a warm coppery hand shimmered and reached out to her.

So she let go and reached back, relieved.

#twilight #twilight fanfic #jacob black #new mooon #bella swan #edward cullen #a monster lives here #chapter 1 #thepack #la push #fanfiction #smeyers #the pack

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topsytervy · 4 years ago

Text

The Right Time ~ JJ Maybank

Blurb: JJ finds the right time to tell you how he feels in his own JJ way.

This is Part 2 of Not The Right Time so if you haven't read Part 1, you can read it here.

Word Count: 2,819

Warnings: mentions of drinking, cheating, a non-descriptive fight, teensy bit of blood, small nod towards suicidal thoughts at the end, cliche and cheesy writing, swearing, poorly proofread so probably spelling and grammar mistakes, I think that's it.

~~~~~~~~~~

Ever since your breakup with Brett, JJ had been doing everything in his power to make sure you knew it had nothing to do with you and Brett just couldn't keep his dick in his pants.

It was hard for him to see you like that, all heart broken and sad, but at least he was able to see you. Kie, Pope, Sarah and John B had tried visiting multiple times during your post breakup hermit phase with little to no success.

A knock on the door sounded throughout the house as JJ finished preparing lunch for you two.

"Hold on!" He hollered, finishing up your sandwich before heading over to the door.

He opened it to reveal the other four members of your group.

"Hey." JJ greeted his friends.

"Can we see her today?" John B asked.

"I can ask but her 'social battery's low'. Her words, not mine." JJ sighed.

"It's just that it's hard for us to not see her, J."

JJ looked at Sarah. " At least you don't have to see her completely shattered everyday and have to sit and watch her eat three times a day to make sure she actually does eat."

Pope looked past JJ and saw the sandwiches on the table. "Can I sit with her today?"

JJ looked at Pope before nodding and gesturing towards your sandwich. "That one right there."

Pope smiled before grabbing the sandwich and knocking on your door, hearing a faint come in afterwards.

You looked to see Pope entering, a small smile on his face. "Hey. Heard about your low battery and I figured you'd want to see someone who's not JJ but not the whole peanut gallery."

You smiled lightly as you sat up. "Thanks, Pope. I love JJ but he can be a bit...overbearing sometimes."

"And this is one of those times." Pope nodded.

You sighed as Pope gave you your sandwich.

"He's just concerned about you. We all are."

"l know."

"How about I tell you about some books I've been reading?"

"I'd like that Pope." You smiled as you bit into your food.

It's not that JJ was bad at comforting or anything like that. In fact, ever since you were a kid, you always went to him for comfort when you were upset. It's just that JJ always seemed to want to rush your mourning period.

JJ didn't like seeing you sad so the less time you spent crying and moping, the better for him.

"Morning, Y/N/N." JJ smiled lightly as he drew back your curtains.

"J, get out." You mumbled into your pillow.

"You gotta get up, sweetheart." JJ practically sang, walking over to your bed and grabbing the comforter.

Your grip immediately tightened. "Don't J."

"I know it's only been a week but come on Y/N. Let in some sun. If not for you, do it for your children." He nodded towards your plants as he laid down next to you.

"I can't get up." You told him.

"Sure you can. You're a bad bitch who isn't going to let this break her. I'm not going to allow you to bury yourself in work and hole yourself up in your room forever just because some dumbass doesn't realize when he's got the greatest girl to ever walk the earth."

You stared at the blonde next to you. "JJ. I can't get up cause you're in here and I'm only in my underwear.

JJ rolled his eyes. "Y/N, all due respect, that's no excuse cause I've seen you naked many times before. the time you broke your ankle in the shower being the main one cause I had to help you in and out of the shower multiple times."

You blushed at his words before shoving him. "Just get out."

JJ did as you requested but not before tossing you some clothes.

So when a few months had passed and you seemed to be back to pre-breakup Y/N, JJ was happy to hear Kie mention a party.

Everyone looked at you and you shrugged. "Why the hell not?"

JJ, John B and Pope all exchanged smiles as Sarah and Kie pulled you up from your seat, saying something about making you so hot that the sun would quit and you'd have to take over the job of keeping the earth warm.

JJ watched as you left, sighing as he let his head fall against the back of the couch.

John B looked at his best friend. "Don't be a helicopter JJ tonight."

A look of confusion found its way onto JJ's face. "Helicopter JJ? What the fuck does that mean?"

Pope sighed. "It's like a helicopter parent except you. You tend to hover over Y/N/N at parties and get a bit...protective at times."

"I do that with Kie and Sarah too." JJ scoffed.

"Not really." The boys responded.

"You don't follow Kie's movements as much as Y/N's." Pope started.

"You certainly don't freak out as much when you lose Sarah or Kie but you almost had a panic attack when you lost Y/N that one time at the store and literally had someone page her." John B added.

"You hide some of Y/N/N's clothes when we're going out because you don't like the chance of her wearing something that could cause a guy to like her and cause you to lose your chance with her."

"I once saw you shield her eyes at prom when people started grinding on each other."

"Okay! So I'm a bit more protective of Y/N than the other two. Sue me." JJ cut the two off.

"Point is that this is her first party in months. Let her get a bit too drunk and make out with some hotshot Kook against a tree."

"Hell, let her get some dick tonight." John B shrugged.

Pope and JJ looked at their curly haired friend before JJ shook his head.

"Fine but she's not getting dick from just anybody. I have to approve of him." JJ said as he stood up and left the room,

The two other boys sat in silence before Pope spoke.

"You know what? I count that as progress and when we make progress with JJ…"

"We have a beer." John B finished, getting up to go get each of them a can.

*****

You and the rest of the pogues made it to the party and found yourselves a home by the bonfire. Rafe, Topper and Kelce had stopped by to say that they were happy to see you again and Kelce was happy that his beer pong partner was back because Rafe and Topper just didn't compare to you.

JJ stared at you, the fire illuminating your features as you laughed at something Kie had said, red cup in his hand that was half-empty. He brought the cup to his lips and finished his beer before turning to you.

"Refill, Y/N/N?"

You nodded before turning to the rest of the group. "JJ and I are making a refill trip. Who else needs one? Speak now or get it yourself." You announced as you stood up.

JJ smiled at your words before also getting up, ready to grab some cups. Pope and Sarah held out their cups while Kie and John B shook their heads.

You took the cups that needed a refill before you and JJ made your way through the crowd of people towards the keg. JJ cracked some jokes with some of the others around the keg and you rolled your eyes, a small smile on your face before you nudged him with your shoulder.

You two started refilling the cups you had before you were interrupted.

"Haven't see you at a party in awhile, Y/N."

You and JJ turned your heads to see Brett standing there, two cups in his hand.

JJ rolled his eyes before looking at you, seeing you avert your gaze back to the keg.

"Why don't you go back to your whore over there Brett." JJ deadpanned.

You smacked JJ's wrist. "Don't call her a whore, JJ. It's rude."

"I'm just stating my opinion."

"Oh so she does still talk. I was just confused when she didn't say hi to me when I greeted her." Brett said.

"Can you get the fuck away from us? She clearly doesn't want to have a conversation with you." JJ snapped.

"I would love to know what you have to say, Y/N, or are you gonna let JJ over here keep talking for you." Brett aimed at you, ignoring the blonde who was getting more agitated by Brett's presence.

"I have nothing to say to you." You shrugged, going to grab the cup.

"We should talk." Brett went to grab you but JJ grabbed his wrist.

"Don't touch her."

"What are you gonna do about it, Maybank?"

"I've got two fists that have been itching to meet your face for months now and tonight might be their lucky night if you keep it up."

"JJ, lets just go." You whispered, placing a hand on his forearm.

JJ looked at you before grabbing his and Pope's cup before following you back to the group.

"Hey, JJ!" Brett called causing JJ to look back.

You gasped as a fist made contact with JJ's face. JJs hand immediately flew to his eye, gingerly touching his eyebrow. He pulled his fingers away to see blood and he chuckled before swinging his own fist.

It wasn't long before JJ had Brett on the ground, pissed beyond belief. Brett managed to get a few more punches in but JJ definitely got way more in by the time you managed to pull him off of Brett with Kelce's help.

"JJ! Calm down, man! He's not worth your time!" Kelce hollered, pinning his arms to his side.

"JJ, look at me. It's done. It's over. You're good now." You told him.

Brett stood up with a scoff. "He could have fucking killed me."

"I fucking should, you cheating son of a bitch!" JJ spat, Kelce's grip tightening on the blonde boy when JJ attempted to lunge forward.

"J, let's just go home. We've had our fun."

JJ looked at you before relaxing causing Kelce to release his hold on him slowly. You grabbed JJ's hand and pulled him away from the small crowd that had formed around him and Brett.

You two said goodbye to your friends and walked back to JJ's truck, you climbing into the passenger seat and him into the drivers.

It was a quiet ride home, Twenty One Pilots playing softly through the speakers the entire time. JJ referred to them as his therapy band, often putting them on after a hard day at work or after a fight so it wasn't really a surprise that he had one of their CDs in.

Once you got home and inside, JJ locked the door before turning towards his bedroom.

"Um, excuse me. Where are you going, JJ?" You asked, grabbing his wrist.

"Bed."

You shook your head. "We gotta clean you up. Bed can wait."

You tugged him into the bathroom and grabbed the first aid kit as you instructed JJ to sit on the toilet lid. He complied, bouncing his leg up and down as you put a little hydrogen peroxide on a cotton ball.

"That's your first fight in a while." You commented, grabbing his chin lightly and forcing him to look at you.

He grunted in response as you started cleaning the few small cuts on his face. "The prick deserved it for what he did to you. You'd have to be fucking nuts to cheat on someone like you."

You felt my heart flutter at his words and I sighed. "I just hate seeing you like this, JJ. All scratched up."

JJ chuckled as he shook his head lightly. "Oh, Y/N, sweetheart. This is nothing compared to the beat down Brett just got and what my dad used to dish out when I was living with him."

JJ saw your face drop at his words and your eyes begin to water.

"Hey, Y/N. It was just a small joke." He told you gently as he grabbed your hands with his.

You shook your head and went to pull away from him but he just pulled you back, looking up at you as if he was a parent trying to comfort their child.

It weirdly looked like all those Super Nanny time out scenes where the kid looks down in shame as they apologize and the parent is dipping their head down to make eye contact with the kid. You know what I'm talking about?

"I don't like it when you do the whole 'my dad hit me harder thing', J, whenever you try to play off your pain and injuries." You mumbled, a tear slipping out.

JJ wiped away the single tear, mad at himself for upsetting you. "I'm sorry but maybe the waterworks are a bit much. Hmm?"

"I'm sorry. It's just that you shouldn't fight my battles for me. I was going to just walk away from him."

"I'm sorry, are we ignoring the fact that I was walking away? He threw the first punch and I made sure he would think twice before doing that again."

"I just don't like you getting hurt because of me." You sighed.

"Hey, I'd rather get hurt than have you get hurt."

You wrapped your arms around his neck and his went around your waist.

"I always liked your hugs better." You hummed.

JJ felt himself smile. "Yeah?"

You nodded. "You wanna know something, J?"

"Yeah."

"I always felt like you paid more attention to me than Brett. After a year of dating him, he still didn't know my favorite flowers or that I was allergic to bees. Those are the two simplest things to learn about your significant other. You know that I can't even stand the smell of fish sticks anymore or that I can't watch the Freaky Fred episode of Courage the Cowardly Dog or I'll have nightmares."

"That's because I care about you a lot." JJ whispered, kissing your temple.

You ran a hand through JJs blonde locks and sighed. "I wish I dated you instead."

You froze. You could not believe that you had just told your best friend that. You also could not believe how easily those words left your mouth and how much truth there was to them. You did wish you dated JJ instead and not just because of how attractive he was. He always treated you way better than Brett and was more intune -and concerned- about how you were feeling.

JJ also froze, praying that he heard those words correctly and that it wasn't his mind playing a sick joke. He had been waiting for the right time for months and his gut had been telling him all day that today was the day but he fought the urge, afraid his gut was lying. But this...this must be the sign.

"Do you really mean that?" He asked, fighting a smile in case you meant a guy like him and not actually him.

You paused before nodding. "Yeah, I do."

You felt his arms tighten around you and his face bury itself in the crook of your neck.

"You remember all those months ago when you made a big deal about me liking someone and you asked me why I hadn't made a move yet and I told you it wasn't the right time?" JJ words were muffled by your skin.

"Mhmm."

He pulled away to look at you. "I think now's the right time."

And then he pressed his lips against yours. You were quick to kiss back and it held the adoration you felt was missing long before you and Brett broke up.

You pulled away, placing a hand on his cheek which caused JJ to close his eyes and lean into your touch.

"Thank you for being in my life." You whispered, taking the forgotten cotton ball in your hand and pressing it to the scratch above his eyebrow.

JJ smiled. "No. Thank you for being in mine. You helped me through the toughest times and gave me a reason to stay."

"I wouldn't have objected to leaving the Outer Banks with you."

"I meant like stay here, like on Earth." He mumbled.

You stared at him before kissing his cheek. "Thank you for staying here with me."

JJ opened his eyes and grinned as some hair fell in front of his eyes. "As much as I love our little moment, can we move the cleaning process along cause I kind of want to climb into bed with you in my arms tonight."

You smiled, pushing his hair out of his face. "Sure thing, Jay-Bird. That sounds amazing."

~~~~~~~~

#jj outer banks #jj obx #jj x reader #jj maybank #rudy pankow

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13tinysocks · 4 years ago

Note

Hey! You don’t have to answer this by any means lol, I understand if it may make you weirded out talking about it but I’m genuinely super confused on the creator of Tobias situation-what exactly did the creator do since I can’t find any proper information and get a lot of mixed answer every time I ask someone—🧍‍♀️

Honestly, I don't think Wade's nearly as bad as he's made out to be. But he's tripped up in the eyes of the fandom.

Over the passed couple years he took Toby in and out like its the hokey-pokey. No offense to him but he's very wishywashy. Toby's mine don't touch- I want nothing to do with him take it! Over and over.

His big mistake was the copyright debacle. Partycity, a garbo holloween costume company, ripped Toby's mask and started selling it without permission for mass profit. Not cool. Instead of going after the big man, he went after fanartists and Toby fans. I'm sure he sent some to PC but I haven't followed that too close.

He basically said Toby mine, no use or get sued. So basically- had a breakdown and didn't reserch copyright law. He then bashed people who found comfort in Toby- disregarding the very idea of a comfort character. Fair enough, he didn't grow up when that was a popularish term. Buttttttt- CC's are for nuerodivergent, ushually lgbt and possibly truamatized people. Those who viewed Toby as their CC saw that as a personal attack.

People often disregard that Wade is lgbt. He may be nuerodivergent and mentally ill- idk the guy and haven't bothered to stalk him.

As of now, i don't think he filed anything against anybody. But he wants to take Toby from the cpp fandom entirely which I don't think is possible. Its been too long and he's been public domain forever. I understand him lashing out. Humans are not meant to process thousands of hate comments. You're gonna say dumb shit in response.

As for other stuff: He has harassed people. One specific case being he pointed his audience towards a Lyra roleplay account (publicly on his ig story to a bunch of followers) which was really shitty. Allegedly he supports lamishimishi, (correct me if i spelled that wrong) Sally's actual pedo freak creator. I have never seen a screenshot of this and have only heard second hand about it. He could've been mutuals with her pre-child porn or he could have been besties with her while she drew child porn. I don't know and no one else seems to either.

People aren't entitled to listen to him is what I ushually say. I feel bad the fandom is still so rabid to him but I'm not ceasing the use of a character I've cared about and created content for years. Do whatever with Toby just don't shove it in Wade's face dude.

You can find screenshots, rants, and whatnot from others who covered the situation. Maybe he's bad as they say I haven't seen in awhile. I think @/eyelesscunt or a blog like theirs uploaded stuff? Feel free to link that post to anyone who's got it.

#ticci toby #creepypasta #toby rogers #rant #anon #reply #sorry for the also mixed answer but i try to give ppl the benefit of the doubt x

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puckyeahobx · 4 years ago

Text

they tried to sweep us into the cracks in the wall

not my gif

a/n: i really hope you guys aren’t getting tired of my rafe apologist behavior because it’s just gonna keep coming. this one is a little long but i really like how it turned out! i just hope rafe gets some form of redemption arc or SOMETHING because he truly is just a product of his toxic, abusive environment and i know he’s good at heart. (it helps that drew is my dream man tho) *title inspired by chapstick by hippo campus*

summary: there’s a huge storm in the obx one night and y/n is stuck at the diner she works tirelessly at. little does she know that her beloved diner is about to become refuge for the last person she’d ever dream of feeling empathy for.

warnings: none! fluff overload

word count: 7.6k (meep)

You had been working at this cafe by the beach for a couple of years now, ever since you had turned 16. You needed the money to save for college and get the hell out of your house and, one day, the Outer Banks. It’s not that you didn’t love it there, because of course you did. It was home after all but you just knew that you were meant for more. But, it had been almost four years at this cafe, two at the closest community college, and things weren’t looking good on the whole “meant for more” front. Lost as ever, you just kind of took every day as it came and tried to keep a smile on your face as you did so. It wasn’t a particularly hard life, nor was it ridiculously painful, but you couldn’t help but think of what sixteen year old Y/N would have thought of you four years older in the same shitty apron and clunky work shoes.

Much like your life hadn’t changed much in the last four years, the cafe hadn’t changed since before you were born. The same old people came in on the same days at the same times, which was good because it meant you got to know them really well, usually meaning bigger tips for you, but it was kind of a slap in the face with the whole complacency thing. You were the youngest people ever in that building, besides Mildred’s granddaughter Celia who came in for brunch every Sunday at 10:45 (right after mass), and since this is where you spent pretty much all your time, your dating life was also suffering. This obviously wasn’t the most pressing variable in the situation, but it was a variable all the same and it wasn’t like you could pretend like you didn’t notice. Because you did. Every time a love song from the 60’s came on the cafe playlist you noticed. Whenever Ester and Charles came in for their Monday morning coffees and Thursday evening dinners, you noticed. Sometimes you’d be doing nothing at all and you’d notice. It was kind of impossible to ignore. You weren’t one to obsess over boys because, frankly, there weren’t any you were interested in. This was a small island, you knew your options and you were far from impressed. Sure some of them were attractive, but that usually also meant they had rocks for brains and that was just not something you were willing to indulge just because you were desperate for a warm body. This was your life for right now and you were just going to have to be ok with it. And you were. For the most part.

The good thing is that you didn’t hate your job. Food service wasn’t glamorous but the cafe was sort of like a second home to you, and since you had been there for so long the owners really trusted you. The couple that owned the place weren’t as young as they were when they opened it 25 years ago so any chance they got to hand the keys over to you for the night, they took gladly. Tonight was one of those nights. It was pouring outside as you started the closing duties. Sweeping, wiping down the tables, polishing the glassware, typical restaurant stuff. It was actually kind of relaxing.

You were on your fourth set of mugs when you were startled by the bell above the front door jingled delightfully. It was only 9 PM so you didn’t technically close for another hour, but your usual crowd tapped out at around 7:30. But, then you realized that this customer was a part of your usual crowd. Oh no, this 6’4” twenty something in board shorts and a half-buttoned shirt was far from that. He was soaked from head to toe, his horrific Sperry’s squelching as he made his way toward the counter, looking around. He couldn’t see you from your spot hidden around the corner to the kitchen back by the dishwasher, but you could see him bright and clear.

“Hello? Is there anyone here?” His tall body and broad shoulders did not match the apprehensive tone of his voice, and it certainly was a far cry from the way you had heard him speak before.

You stepped out from around the corner wordlessly, your towel and mug still in hand. He jumped in surprise before you could say anything.

“Jesus Christ!”

You jumped back at his mini outburst, “You’re the one that asked if anyone was here!”

He rest his hands on the counter and huffed out a laugh, “Uh, yeah. Sorry,” he looked up, his hair (as well as the rest of him) completely soaking wet and dripping all over your freshly mopped floors, and his eyes closed in on you, “Do I know you?”

“We, uh, we went to school together. Class of 2018. You’re uh Rafe Cameron, right?” You tried to be casual, but you knew exactly who he was. Rafe Cameron: public deviant and resident party boy of Figure Eight. Needless to say you never ran in the same circle, but it was impossible not to know who he was. Some may have called in infamy.

Straightening up he smacked a hand to his forehead and then started pointing at you, snapping. “Yes duh! And you’re-” more snapping, “God it’s been so long….Something with an ‘M’?”

You knew he had never known your name, but you kind of liked that he was pretending. “It’s Y/F/N Y/L/N. I think we had geometry together sophomore year.”

“That must be why I don’t remember you, I never went to that class. Mrs. Reynolds was a bitch.”

Normally you would have scoffed and rolled your eyes at a man calling a woman a bitch but in this instance he was absolutely correct. “She was the worst,” you laughed nervously.

There was a beat of awkward silence when you remembered what you were being paid for, “Oh so did you, um, did you want something to eat?”

He looked at you like you were speaking a foreign language until he also seemed to remember what your job was, “What? Oh, uh, no. Not really.”

“Ok...do you want coffee or anything?” You asked, confused.

“I actually only came in because this was the only place within like ten miles that had its lights on. You do know there’s a tropical storm coming, right?”

You did not know there was a tropical storm coming. At around 7 you turned the radio off and took aux, simultaneously cutting off any and all emergency weather reports. You could tell that the storm was rough, but it was rare for a tropical storm this time of year.

“Is that why you’re soaking wet? You got that bad just from walking inside here?”

He started to rub the back of his neck and looked down at the ground, “No, actually, I got this bad from riding my bike for the last hour.”

Wanting to avoid another awkward pause you blurted out the first thing that came to mind, “Well that’s pretty stupid.” You immediately covered your mouth with your free hand, a hot, crimson blush creeping up your neck and taking refuge all across your cheeks. The awkward pause would have been favorable.

However, instead of flipping you off and calling you a dumb slut like he and his friends had been known to do in high school, he looked back up at you and laughed. You hoped it was with you instead of at you, so you forced a laugh back. It was hard not to, his face completely changed when he laughed. It was as if all of his features shifted into something softer, rounder, open. You had gone to school with Rafe Cameron your whole life and never before would you have ever dared to describe him as warm, but that’s exactly what the person laughing on the other side of the counter was. It was almost off-putting.

“Yeah, it was pretty fucking stupid. But, in my defense, it wasn’t raining when I got on my bike. And I didn’t have much of a choice.” The last sentence fell off his tongue a little harder, a little darker.

“What happened?” You weren’t sure why tonight was the night you had decided to speak on impulse, but you were really starting to question why lobotomies were frowned upon. It seemed like you could use one.

He clearly didn’t want to answer, with the way he sighed and focused his attention on the cup of coffee stirrers on the counter in front of him, but he did anyway. “You know how parents are. The old man was just sick of looking at me tonight, I guess.” His tone was casual, but his gaze on the coffee stirrers was anything but. Happy people don’t look at inanimate objects like that.

You let his omission sit in the air for a moment, making sure you didn’t say anything stupid again before settling on the one thing you knew to be a sure fire antidote. “I think you should drink some hot cocoa.”

He looked up at you and tried to wave the suggestion off, “Nah it’s ok. This storm will be over any minute now and then I’ll head out. Besides, you’re cleaning and I’m interrupting you.” He went to turn around and sit in some of the chairs but you had already turned on the machine.

“Don’t be stupid, this storm is going to stick around for awhile. You might as well get comfortable.” The hot cocoa finished and you topped it off with whipped cream and brought it to his spot at the table closest to the counter.

He looked from the mug to you and back again, doing that thing with his neck again. “This is really nice, Y/N, but, uh, I don’t have any money.”

You scoffed and walked away, “Yeah, ok, Mr. Tannyhill.”

He got a little quieter, “No, uh, I’m serious. My dad cut me off. None of my cards work.” You turned around and saw him looking down at his shoes. His broad frame slouching over onto itself, making him look almost small.

“Don’t worry about it. I was never going to make you pay for it anyway. Just promise I can have a sip, yeah?” You tried to keep the conversation light so he didn’t freak about the amount of honesty he was sharing with you. Why was he being so honest? Why was he talking to you at all? You suppose it would have been awkward if he had just walked in, not ordered anything, and sat down without a word, but that still didn’t explain the brutal honesty about his homelife.

He smiled at you and laughed, “Yeah, I promise. You can have as many sips as you want.”

You returned a soft smile back and pointed to the kitchen, “I, uh, I have some other stuff in the back I need to finish up real quick. Make yourself at home, I guess.” And you turned around quickly, hoping he couldn’t see the heat rising to your cheeks, and made your way back into the safety of the dishroom.

Back in the safety of the dishroom you had time to actually process what was happening for the first time all night. There you were, desperate for something in your life to start, and then all of a sudden something jolted you awake. Maybe you were being dramatic for the sake of entertainment, but as a big believer in the universe and the purposeful things it sends our way, you were not about to take this for granted. He was being so kind - so very the opposite of the Rafe you had heard the stories about for years and years. But there was more to it, the kindness didn’t even seem like an active choice. He just was. From the way he tentatively looked around for another soul in the storm, to the guilty look on his face when he couldn’t pay for the drink you had made for him (it was true, by the way. You really were never going to make him pay for it. His surprise made you wonder when was the last time he had been shown a random act of kindness like that. You felt your heart hurting for him), he was just kind and scared and considerate. Although, you might have just been romanticizing the one interaction you had had with a guy in God knows how long. It didn’t help that his shirt was almost all the way unbuttoned and completely soaked through. You weren’t even letting yourself think about the way his hair was stuck to his forehead and in his eyes, because if you thought about it you were afraid you might offer up your hand in marriage.

All this not thinking about his hair had really distracted you from your cleaning, so you were even further behind. You still had four racks of mugs to wash and dry as well as three containers of silverware to sort. Normally, you would have been by now. But normally, there wasn’t a soaking wet boy in your cafe.

Just when you were almost done not thinking about him, you heard his voice coming from somewhere much closer than the table by the window. “Um, do you need any help?” He asked from the doorway.

You jumped, almost dropping the mug in your hand.

“We should probably stop sneaking up on each other, you might end up breaking a mug,” He chuckled as he walked towards you, tugging a dry towel off the rack by the door. “So, where do we start?”

You stared blankly back at him, not trusting your brain to come up with something intelligent to say.

He chuckled offhandedly at your agape mouth, taking the wet mug from your hands and drying it before setting it on the rack with the rest, “Take a picture, it’ll last longer. And, even better, it might just restore my image,” He paused and held his hands out in front of him with a grand gesture, “‘Outer Banks Playboy and Coke Addict Rafe Cameron Attempts Manual Labor’ That’ll be a hit for sure. Do you have any more washed mugs or should I do that too?”

Snapping out of your trance, you cleared your throat and pulled out a rack of freshly washed mugs and set them in front of you both. He was standing so close to you that you could practically feel the heat radiating off of him through his soaked shirt.

“You know, we have extra uniform shirts in the back. I could get you one,” you said, trying to sound casual.

“A job offer, huh? I’m impressing you that much already?”

You felt yourself start to blush again, “No, uh, I just meant because you’re probably cold. It’s not good to stay in wet clothes. If you don’t want one that’s fine I just thought-”

He stopped your train of thought when he rested a hand on top of the one you had been using to scrub the same spot on the mug you had been scrubbing since you started talking, “I’d really appreciate that, Y/N. Now, set the poor mug down. It never did anything to you,” it could have been teasing, but it honestly didn’t sound like anything other than him trying to ease the tension you were so obviously feeling.

You nervously laughed and walked out of the kitchen to get the shirt, trying to avoid eye contact. Returning with what you hoped was the right size, you stepped into the kitchen still not looking at him, “I didn’t know what size you would want, but it was between this and a XS and that just seemed unrealistic.”

When you finally looked up you fully almost passed out. There was Rafe Cameron, in your cafe dish room, topless. He was standing over the drain on the ground, wringing out his other shirt. His biceps tensed with each twist of his arms and you swear you heard yourself gulp. He looked up at you as you finished talking, straightening up and giving you a full view of him. While you had run in different circles in high school, you weren’t blind. And you definitely weren’t stupid. Rafe had always been good-looking. This wasn’t a shock. It was completely a context thing. But that didn’t change the fact that suddenly your mouth had gone dry as you tried to somehow drink in the image of his entire body without coming off as some freak with zero social skills.

“Just toss it here, thanks,” he caught it with one hand (sexy) and slipped it over his head, doing that thing where boys shake out their hair after putting a shirt on, and smoothing it out over his chest and stomach. “Fits like a damn glove.” He shot back another one of those uncharacteristically enthused smiles before setting his wet shirt on top of the washing machine and getting back to work on the mugs. “Are you just gonna stand there, Y/L/N or are you gonna help me?”

You slowly made your way back over to him, too nervous to make any sudden movements. What if you just blinked for too long and suddenly he was gone? Finally getting back to work, you stood further away from him this time

“I don’t bite,” he whispered to you as he leaned in close to your ear.

Laughing nervously you scooted to the side a little closer, “Sorry. I’m just, surprised, that’s all.”

“Not everyday someone so good looking turns up at your door and offers you free labor?”

“I was more so thinking about it being you specifically, the ‘Outer Banks Playboy’ and all. This doesn’t really seem your speed,” you shrugged as you placed another dry mug on the rack.

He sighed, “Yeah, well, the outer banks playboy hasn’t really done me any favors recently. I think I’d much rather move at this speed.”

You scoffed, “I hate to break it to ya buddy but the speed you’re referring to might as well be a standstill. Nothing about this place has changed in the last 25 years and that includes the customers. I’d take Playboy over Groundhogs day any time. Much more glamorous.”

“I’m not so sure about glamorous, Y/N...you did hear me say that I’m completely broke, right? Doesn’t really scream luxury.”

You faltered, surprised that he brought this up again on his own accord. “I hope you don’t mind me asking,” You started after a pause, “But what happened that was so bad that your dad kicked you out in the middle of a tropical storm?”

Stopping his motions completely, he set the halfway dried mug down and sighed, closing his eyes, “To be honest, this happens like every week. Nothing really happens, it's just like, he remembers I exist and picks something to be mad about. This week it was because I didn’t go to college, one of his personal favorites,” He laughed in spite of himself and shook his head, focusing back on the mug, “The one thing that changed was that I couldn’t take it anymore. I just got on my bike and left. I’ve been staying at Top’s since but then his parents kicked me out after Ward told some lies about how useless I was and how they shouldn’t enable me...maybe they weren’t lies, but it’s still fucked.”

You had long since forgotten the mug you were supposed to be drying, too focused on looking up at him to make sure he wasn’t going to crack at any moment. He didn’t seem emotional about all this but that just made you even more nervous. You reached out to set your hand on top of his gently, a sign of camaraderie. “Rafe, that- that is so fucked up. I’m so sorry. I had heard stories about Ward but that...wow…”

“Pretty fucking unbelievable, huh?” He scoffed, “What a stand up guy. I haven’t even done anything to piss him off in months. He didn’t even notice that I stopped doing blow…”

You tried not to show any visible signs of that news shaking you to your core - you thought the coke addict thing had been a joke.

He shook his head and started working on the mug again, finishing off the last in your guys’ stock. “I don’t really know why I’m telling you all of this. I’d be super fucking weirded out if I were you...sorry about that.”

“I don’t mind,” You said sweetly, tossing your used towel in the hamper. “I don’t get a lot of company around here, so I take what I can get. Daddy issues be damned.”

He let out another one of those honest-to-God laughs again which you were relieved by. It was amazing how easy being with him was considering everything you had thought you had known about him. Some people really do change after high school, huh.

“You’re funny,” he remarked as he finished up laughing, swinging his towel over his shoulder and running his hands through his hair, “So...what’s next boss?”

“I still have some silverware to bag up but you really don’t have to help me, I’m a big girl I can handle it myself. Besides, you’ve had a long day of being homeless.” You joked, grabbing the silverware and setting up to sort them. He made no sign of moving. You rolled your eyes, “Rafe, I’m serious. I can get this done in like twenty minutes,” and turned away from him to focus on the task at hand.

Almost as soon as you were done talking though, he was already right beside you, “But if I help we can be done in ten. What kind of asshole would I be to let the beautiful girl I burdened with my presence work while I sat and did nothing?” And, with that, he pulled out another tray of silverware and got to sorting. All you could do was smile to yourself and try not to look at him. If you did you were sure you’d embarrass yourself with the blush and giant smile stretched across your face. This truly seemed like a dream. Too good to be true. It was no passionate affair, but it was more than enough for you. As you finished the silverware (he was right, it did take ten minutes), you found yourself hoping that the storm was raging even harder than before, with no signs of stopping.

Once you finished the last chore of the night, it was time to face the fact that it was too unsafe to travel anywhere for the time being. It was creeping further into the night and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t tired, but you would seriously be damned if you did anything to miss out on the absolute miracle unfolding before you. So, you tried to plow through it regardless of how completely exhausted you were.

Rafe was in the middle of trying to build a pyramid out of the menu cards from the tables while you sat opposite of him, rotating through the same three apps on your phone like you had been for the last 45 minutes when you let out the most dramatic yawn of your life.

The pyramid toppled over and Rafe sighed, “This is stupid. We need to talk about a game plan.”

“What-what do you mean?” You struggled to ask through your second yawn.

“You’re clearly exhausted so we should probably decide who is sleeping where since I doubt there’s going to be any chance I’m getting back on that bike any time within the next eight hours,” He paused to survey the small cafe, clearly trying to come up with a solution. “There’s a booth over in that corner that looks like it might work, and the stools at the counter have some cushions we could remove for pillows….I’m sure my shirt is probably dry by now for you to use as a blanket…”

“First of all, you can keep your shirt. Really, I’ll be fine,” You pretended to be annoyed but truthfully, the thought of curling up with something of his made you want to sob. “Second, I can just sleep on the floor. I’m the one that cleans it so I don’t really mind.”

He was already up and gathering the cushions off the stool, “Just shut up and let me be a gentleman. It’s handled.” And, before you could say no, he was arranging a couple of cushions on the booth, fluffing them for dramatics. “It’s beautiful.” Truthfully, it was a 25 year old glorified couch cushion with two paper thin cushions resting on top of it. But sure, beautiful would work.

“Well this is very sweet but I can’t let my guest sleep on the floor…”

“Guests are usually invited, I don’t think I count. Now! Into bed you go. You’ve had a long day.” He gestures towards the booth.

“Where are you going to sleep?” You asked tentatively, hoping he’d say right next you.

He shifted his weight back and forth between the heels and balls of his feet, “Erm, probably in that corner with the rug. Don’t worry, I saved a stool cushion for myself though.”

“This is so stupid-”

He put a finger on your lips and shushed you, your eyes surely popping out of your skull. Once he was sure you were done talking, he rested both of his hands on your shoulders, easing you down onto the booth. Convinced he had cast some sort of spell, you didn’t put up a resistance and sat down, still looking up at him with a stunned expression.

“What’s stupid is you refusing kindness from Rafe Cameron. People aren’t going to believe you when you tell them so you might as well milk it for all its worth, sweetheart,” His voice was a little breathier than before and your mouth seemingly had gone dry because of it.

Sweetheart. Shit.

When you didn’t say anything, he squeezed one of your shoulders and laughed to himself, “I’m trying this new thing where I put good in because I heard that’s how you get good out. How am I doing so far?”

You tried to speak but nothing came out at first which made you want to crawl in hole and die of embarrassment, but then you cleared your throat and nodded, “Um...yeah! So far so good.”

He smiled and straightened up (you already missed the feeling of his hands on your shoulders, on you period), “That’s what I like to hear. Well...I’m gonna turn off the lights and head over to my corner.” He paused for a second before turning around and then again before he got to the lights, this time turning back towards you, “Thank you, uh, again, for being so cool. Sorry for ruining your night.”

He turned the lights off.

You heard yourself halfway whispering “This has been one of the best nights of my life” before your eyes started to close on their own accord.

“Mine too,” you heard from an even quieter voice as something linen was draped gently across your back and shoulders.

And then it was quiet, and you fell asleep praying to God you wouldn’t wake up in your bed in the morning.

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

When you woke up suddenly, jolting straight up in bed - well, booth - after a particularly loud thunder clap you truly had no idea where you were or whose shirt was draped over your shoulder. It wasn’t until you heard a voice from a disembodied lump in the other corner that the memories of the previous four-ish hours hit you like a truck.

“You snore.”

It was pitch dark but you knew you were red as a beet. Death seemed preferable.

“Don’t worry, it’s the cute kind. Like the little ones, not the chainsaw ones.” There was a tenderness in his voice that would have made you fall over if you weren’t already sitting down.

“Is that why you’re still up? Because I was being loud? I’m so sorry-”

You heard him shift and groan, his body adjusting against the stone floors, “No, no. I wouldn’t have been able to sleep anyway. Too much going on up here, ya know,” he paused, “I’m uh pointing at my head...it’s dark.”

You let out a laugh and laid back against the cushion, “I kinda figured.”

“Yeah that was stupid I don’t know why I felt the need to clarify,” he laughed back.

A comfortable silence fell over you two for a moment once the laughter died out.

Before you could stop yourself, you whispered “Do you want to talk about it?”

He sighed and shifted again, “I’ve already kind of talked your ear off I think.”

“I don’t mind.”

When he didn’t respond immediately you started to get nervous that you had overstepped. You were just about to tell him to forget it, that he didn’t owe you any sort of explanation, when you heard what sounded like a sniffle. Rafe Cameron was fucking crying.

“It’s just uh,” you could tell he was trying to keep his voice even and your heart shattered, “I’m just tired of being the bad guy, I guess. I just wish I could do the right thing, ya know?” He paused, “Do you ever just- just you know, wish you could change everything about yourself?”

You turned on the booth towards the direction of his voice and sighed, “Every day of my life.”

He let out a wet, pathetic laugh, “Yeah. It sucks.”

Another pause, this time not so quiet as you heard him try to catch his breath.

“Rafe?”

“Yeah?” He sounded nervous.

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re a bad guy.” The fondness you had discovered that you had for him was seemingly filling you up completely. Every corner of your body was full of it. You hoped he could hear it. You hoped he believed you.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he said through another wet laugh, “But you might be the only one.”

This time, you didn’t say anything. Instead, you grabbed his shirt and the cushions he had used to make your bed and walked to where his voice was. The light from the security lamp on the corner of the building filtered through just barely so you can see the outline of his trembling body. There was a broken boy at your feet and you set the cushions down beside him, draping the shirt over him like he had for you and laid down next to him. It was intimate, your front pressed against his back as you held him through the cries he still was hoping you couldn’t hear, but that was it. You didn’t need or want anything besides him being able to feel the tenderness coming from you.

After a few moments he gave, turning to face you as he rested his head on your chest and let out a real sob. He grabbed onto you as if you could get up and go at any moment and your fingers threaded through his hair gently, doing anything you could think of to soothe him. He kept mumbling apologies to you but you just shushed him and held on tighter, trying not to let your own tears fall.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he sobbed into your chest, your work shirt becoming soaked.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing at all.”

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

You don’t remember falling asleep, but when you woke up the events of the night before immediately popped in your head. Partly because they were arguably the most exciting things to happen to you in years, but also because it was sort of hard to forget with there was a sleeping boy on top of you.

His arms were wrapped around you and half on your side, half on your back, and fully uncomfortable. The stone had not been kind to your back, and the weight of 6’4” Rafe Cameron didn’t really help, but hell would freeze over before you dared move and disturb the peace before you. His eyelashes were so long they rested on the top of his cheek as he snored just the littlest bit, his bottom lip pouting out as he did so. The storm had caused his hair to get soaking wet just for it to dry chaotically around his forehead. It wasn’t his normal slicked back look, but rather unkempt and surfer-like. It was falling on his forehead perfectly and every time you breathed it shifted just the tiniest bit.

By some miracle it was a Sunday which meant you didn’t open until 10 am and judging by the way the sun was barely creeping above the ocean, you guessed it was probably somewhere between 7 and 8. You knew that eventually you both would have to move, but not yet. Please, God. Not yet. Because if he moved, that meant he would leave, and you weren’t prepared to cope with that kind of loss so early in the morning. Or ever, possibly.

It was almost embarrassing how much you cared about this boy that you were almost certain was a sociopath twenty four hours ago. But now it was as if everything had ever known had changed. Everything seemed brand new: The sun, the stone beneath your spine, the shape of his lips. This might have been some fluke that he would pretend never happened, but you knew in your heart that nothing could ever be the same for you after this. What a crushing blow to know that your life was able to change without your permission.

Before you could get too philosophical before noon, your worst fear was confirmed as you felt him shift. It was endearing to see him be so human in those first few moments of awake-ness. He removed himself from your skin, resting up on one of his elbows, as he wiped his eyes and tried to piece together exactly what had happened to make him end up in this very position. After he had looked around and decided he was in no mortal danger, his tired eyes fixed on you. They were still a little puffy from all of the crying, but they hadn’t lost the softness you caught yourself getting lost in.

“Good morning,” His voice was gravel in the morning and you jotted that down as a fun fact to bury deep in your memory in case you never got to hear it again.

“Good morning,” You couldn’t even bother to be embarrassed by how small your voice sounded. He was goddamn breathtaking this early in the morning.

He looked around again, shaking his head slightly as if to shake off the exhaustion, “What time even is it?”

“I’m not sure, my phone is dead, but I’m going to guess sometime before 8.”

To your surprise, his elbow dropped and he rested himself right back against you, nuzzling slightly, “Too early. Need sleep.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle as you apprehensively threaded your fingers through his hair, “I can’t argue with that logic, but the cafe does open in two hours and I think my smell might offend some of the customers.”

He put his face against your chest and sniffed slightly before resting his cheek again, “You smell great. Screw the customers.”

You wanted to stay there all day but there was just no way. If it wasn’t Fran and Neil banging on the door at 10 AM sharp like they do every Sunday, it was going to be your parents sending out a search party. You may be 20, but you still lived under their roof and they never let you forget it. “Rafe…”

Rolling over onto his back he sighed, “I know, I know. I should probably go.” He started to get up when you grabbed his shoulder and pushed him back down.

“No! No that’s, uh, that’s not what I meant. I mean, you don’t have to go anywhere. You can hang out here all day if you want for all I care. It’s a free country!” You were rambling. “I just need to get some clean clothes and shower before this six hour shift, that’s all.”

“Y/N, I’m not going to stay here while you go home. I think I’ve overstayed my welcome.” He started to get up again and this time you didn’t stop him, conceding to defeat. You were already burying this whole night deep in the recesses of your mind where the memories of it couldn’t hurt you when he held his hand out, “Need help up? That stone is a bitch.”

Once he had helped you up you both just sort of stopped and stared at each other for a moment before he cleared his throat and started to look around, “Besides, I uh have some things I need to take care of anyway.”

You nodded and crossed your over your chest, “Yeah, yeah I get it. Good luck, with everything.”

He nodded awkwardly back at you, “Thanks, I’ll, uh, need it,” He tried to laugh but it sounded so forced it just made you even sadder.

You were about to respond when he leant down and gave you the quickest kiss on the cheek known to man. Another awkward nod and he was turning on his heels towards the door. “I’ll see you around?” He asked as he swung the door open.

“You know where to find me.”

And with that, he was out the door and one his bike. You didn’t know where he was going, but it was away, and that was just enough to break your heart.

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

The rest of the day was torture. Your usual Sunday morning customers were not as charming as they usually were, the sun wasn’t bouncing off the coastline as it usually did, and the mundaneness of your life wasn’t as easy to ignore as it once was. After he had left you set the cushions back where they belonged and got into your car and headed home. Before you left though, you saw his shirt laying on the floor where your two bodies had shared sleep and you took it with you as you left. You knew it was best to forget that this had ever happened, but you’d do that after the smell of him mixed with the rain faded from the cotton. Upon returning home you were lectured by your parents for not telling them where you were, and during the middle of a storm, for crying out loud! But nothing they said had any meaning. You hated yourself for how melodramatic you felt, but you couldn’t help it. What were you supposed to do after a night like that? Move on? Seemed unrealistic, in all honesty.

You got ready for work and managed to trudge through the work day until close again. The cafe closed early on Sundays, thank God, so by 6:30 you were locking the doors and were back in the kitchen sorting silverware drying mugs (both of which made you want to cry whether you wanted to admit it or not) when you heard a bang on the glass doors out front. Scared out of your mind, you grabbed a dirty knife and slowly turned the corner. But when you saw the person on the other side of the door, the knife was forgotten as you dropped it and hurtled toward the lock.

As soon as Rafe saw you his face broke open, his smile just amplified by the sunsetting behind him. He was in different clothes now, but his hair looked the same and he looked so much happier than the last time you saw him. You fumbled with the lock until you finally got it, swinging the door open and letting in a giant current of ocean spray, wildflowers and him, him, him.

You couldn’t wipe the smile off your face but you tried to come off as casual anyway, “Back so soon? We’re closed you know...This time it actually is an imposition. If this is just your master plan to get free hot chocolate you are sorely mistaken sir.”

He waited for you to stop rambling to ask politely, that smile still all over his face, “Can I come in?”

You wordlessly moved out of the way as he stepped in and turned back to you.

“So what do I owe to this great pleasure? Did you forget something-”

But before you could get the whole sarcastic remark out, your lips were being crushed by something soft and desperate. His hands cupped either side of your face as he kissed you wildly. Your hands immediately found the nape of his neck and you leaned in even closer to him, trying to make it clear that he could wield you any way he wanted.

He pulled a part far too soon, his breath completely uneven in a way that made you feel like you were dreaming, “Uh yeah, actually. That. I forgot that.”

His hands were still on your face, yours still in his hair, “Well what took you so long then?” You laughed, just as breathless as him.

“I was too busy trying to convince my dad that I was a good person. It took a couple of hours, but I don’t think he hates me anymore. He reopened all of my cards and is letting me live in the guest house-”

“That’s great Rafe!”

“On one condition...” He sounded nervous, but the faintest trace of a smile still danced across his lips.

Your voice lowered, “I’m nervous.”

“I have to get a job…” He paused waiting for you to catch on, but you just stared blankly back at him. You were still reeling from that kiss. “And I guess I was hoping that this very cafe might be hiring?”

Your smile got even wider and your whole body felt like it was glowing, “You know what I think we are,” You all but giggled.

His hands fell to your hips where he squeezed slightly, laughter bubbling off his tongue, “Perfect! When can I interview?”

“Right now!” You enthusiastically pushed him into the chair behind him and he fell back less than gracefully. “Who is the best employee at this cafe?”

“Hmmmmm I don’t know, Y/N, you did give away free hot chocolate...That doesn’t seem very business conscious.”

“Do you want the job or not?” Your eyebrows raised at him as a warning.

He laughed again and looked up at you again and grabbed your hands, pulling you between his legs, “I think you are not only the best employee at this cafe, but the best looking employee at any cafe that has ever been built.”

You scoffed and threw one of his hands off yours, pushing his shoulder.

“So did I get the job?”

You looked down at him and smiled, unable to even pretend to be annoyed, “Well, Mr. Cameron, I have reviewed the facts and it looks like you’ll be the perfect fit. Luckily for you, flattery will get you everywhere.”

He smirked at you and pulled you into his lap, “Oh yeah? I like the sound of that.” His voice was slightly teasing but there was no mistaking his hot breath against your neck.

“Get your mind out of the gutter! I was strictly speaking professionally.” The blush was creeping all over your body when he pulled away.

“So was I, boss. What do you take me for?” He feigned hurt and you saw right through it.

Deciding to tease him right back, you raised an eyebrow and asked, “Do you seriously want me to answer that?”

With that he scoffed and rolled your eyes at you, giving up on your games. You laughed in his face and wrapped your arms back around his neck, assuring him you were just teasing. It didn’t take much convincing because soon he had forgiven you, his lips back on yours in an instant.

You went to sleep that night thanking your lucky stars for that worn down cafe and the tropical storm that brought him to you, still not being able to believe your luck. Sleep came for you as images of his smile fluttered past your eyelids, a smile permanently tattooed on your lips.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #obx #outer banks #rafemaybank wrote this #rafe cameron fluff

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jlalafics · 4 years ago

Note

Could you please reblog your lesbian!Peeta story for me

Sure! I hope this is the one you’re thinking of!

_______

“You can shut off the lights now.”

Delly Cartwright, Peeta’s friend and business manager, looked to her and gave a sympathetic smile.

“You did well for a new business owner, Peeta,” she continued. Gathering some of the go-backs, Delly started to head over to the racks. “You opened a record shop. It wasn’t exactly going to be busy every day, but from a business standpoint, you did well for your first week.”

Peeta gathered her golden locks into a ponytail and took the broom next to her to sweep up.

“I guess you’re right,” Peeta replied.

She had fair sales for her opening week; it had always been her dream to open a shop of her own and her love for vinyl clinched her decision to open a record store. There was hope of expanding to a used bookstore, but it seemed that it would be awhile before that would happen.

“Don’t you have a husband to get home to?” Peeta asked her friend. “Thom must be annoyed that you’re spending all your time with me.”

“Thom wouldn’t have a full-service coffee bar if it weren’t for his wife’s business savvy,” Delly retorted. She pushed herself onto the wood counter. “He can sacrifice time so I can help out one of my best friends.”

“Really though.” Returning the broom to its place, Peeta met her friend’s light eyes. “Thanks.”

“Of course.” Suddenly, Delly’s mouth formed into a smirk. “I mean it wouldn’t hurt if you had a partner to support and help you out. I met this great girl at Thom’s bar—”

“You know what—” Peeta lifted her petite friend off the counter easily, placing her by the front door. “—I think you should go home. You’re obviously exhausted.”

“You win this round, Mellark,” Delly declared with a chuckle. “We’ll see you for Sunday brunch at our place.”

Stepping out, Peeta watched her friend get into her car and drive off before walking back into the store.

Sighing, she let herself admit that she was lonely.

It had been two years since her last relationship and about six months since her last date. Her brothers were both in long-term relationships; Dean, her eldest brother, married to Olivia, his college girlfriend, with two kids and one on the way while Rye, the middle child, engaged to Johanna, one of Peeta’s closest friends and her former roommate.

While she, the youngest and only girl, was still single.

Peeta wasn’t looking for just anyone.

Whoever she was had to be more.

So, for the time being, she would just have to focus on getting the store up and running.

++++++

Locking up the store, Peeta buttoned her rust peacoat and headed towards her bus stop. Her place was fifteen minutes away—just a few blocks—but the fall season had caused the city to go dark once it hit six in the evening.

“Hey girl!”

The group of guys from the bar across the street called out. There were a few catcalls and she ignored it, speeding up her pace towards the bus stop at the end of the block. Her heart stuttered in nervousness as she heard the footfalls heading towards her.

Suddenly, one of the guys was standing in front of her. “Where you heading, sweetheart?”

Peeta didn’t reply, only taking in a description of the guy…mid-twenties, dark beard, medium height, sharp dark eyes wearing a grey hoodie, black tank, and dark jeans.

So, basically any random guy.

Dean was a cop and he had always taught her what to do if she was in a situation like this. However, it didn’t seem to be helping as she found herself surrounded by the rest of the group.

So, Peeta went for Rye’s method and fully rushed at the guy in front of her, trying to knee him in the groin.

He pushed her and Peeta was knocked down, the back of her head hitting the concrete.

There was the pain of impact…and then darkness.

++++++

“Miss Mellark…can you open your eyes?” Peeta blinked, her vision blurred and the white light causing her eyes to close again. “Take your time.”

She followed the kind voice, allowing herself to adjust before opening her eyes once more.

“There you go,” the voice said gently. “You gave us a scare when you came in.”

Her vision cleared and the warmest set of eyes greeted her. Almond-shaped and dove grey, the eyes were set in a heart-shaped face along with a pert nose and rose lips, her skin was a soft olive and her raven hair was tied back in a neat braid.

“Where am I?” she asked as the bed was slowly elevated.

“You are in the hospital,” the woman in the blue scrubs informed her. “My name is Katniss and I’m your nurse. You were mugged; the perp got your credit cards but left the rest of your wallet since there wasn’t any money. Can you tell me your name?”

“Peeta. Peeta Mellark.”

Katniss looked at her in confusion. “Your ID says Pieta Mellark.”

“When I was born, my parents tried to teach my brother Rye how to say me name properly, Pee-et-ta, but he couldn’t get it and kept pronouncing my name as Pee-ta. So, it kind of stuck.”

The nurse chuckled. “I like both your names.” Katniss looked over her chart and then to her. “We’re just making sure that you’re CT scan comes out clean and then we can release you. Do you have anyone that we can call? Your family?”

“I don’t want to worry my parents and they’re an hour away, and my brothers have families,” she explained. “Once I’m released, I’ll just head on home.”

“Your name fits you,” Katniss remarked. “Pieta means compassion. A lot of people would milk themselves getting injured, but not you. You’re more concerned about everyone else around you.”

“Give me a day or two and I’ll be at home, feeling sorry for myself,” Peeta replied. “Your name is a plant.”

The nurse grinned. “How did you know?”

“When we were all kids, my parents took us camping,” she explained. “And my Dad told me that if for some reason, I got lost in the woods then I just needed to find you to survive.”

Katniss blushed, her cheeks flooding with color, and Peeta found herself breathless in the prettiness of it all.

“I suppose that could also apply to non-camping situations,” Katniss responded. “Get some rest, Peeta, and I’ll check up on your results.”

++++++

“I’m really alright, Haymitch,” Peeta assured her business partner on the phone. “They kept me overnight for observation, but they didn’t see anything in the CT scan.”

“We should install cameras in the front,” the man insisted. “You could’ve been killed or assaulted!”

“Well, they checked if there was any trauma down there and everything seemed right as rain,” she assured him. “My vagina is perfectly intact.”

There was a cough and she turned to see Katniss standing before, a black bomber jacket over her scrubs and her hair down in long waves.

“I really didn’t need to hear that,” the man muttered. “Just call me when you get home, okay? Also, get an Uber and put it on our business credit card.”

“Ah…you should probably call about that,” Peeta replied. “Some of my credit cards are missing.”

“I’m right on it,” Haymitch responded. “Go home and get some rest. I’ll open the store tomorrow.”

“Thanks.” Hanging up, Peeta stuffed her phone into her jean pocket before turning to the woman. “Getting off?”

Katniss looked to her in confusion. “Excuse me?”

“Work. You off from your shift?”

The blush invaded her lovely face and she nodded quickly. “Oh yeah! Just heading out. How about you?”

“Yeah, just needed to check in with Haymitch, my partner,” Peeta explained.

“Oh.” Katniss’ expression dropped. “Why wouldn’t your boyfriend pick you up?”

Peeta snorted at the idea.

“Haymitch is my business partner.” She looked to the woman beside her. “You heading home to your boyfriend?”

The woman shook her head. “I’ve got some leftover pasta and A Walk to Remember on Netflix, but that’s about it.”

“Would you want to join me for a cup of coffee?” Peeta found herself asking. “Thom, my best friend’s husband owns a coffee shop a few blocks down. It will be on me—or on Delly, my best friend—your coffee, I mean…”

Shit, Peeta was going about this all wrong. She didn’t even know if Katniss was into girls.

“Sure.”

Her head snapped up at Katniss’ response and Peeta smiled. “Okay.”

They headed onto the sidewalk in front of the hospital. It was a beautiful morning, chilled but brimming with potential to be a gorgeous day of clear skies and temperate weather.

“How long have you been a nurse?” Peeta asked as they headed down towards Thom’s coffee bar.

“About three years,” Katniss said. “Got this job right out of school. My mom was head nurse at the hospital before retiring a few years ago and I guess nepotism worked in my favor. I might actually be a really crappy nurse.”

“No, you definitely aren’t,” Peeta argued. “You have a natural empathy.”

“How so?”

“When I woke up, I was scared as hell,” she told the woman next to her. They stopped at the crosswalk and Peeta met Katniss’ gaze. “But, when I heard your voice, I knew that I would be okay. You made me feel safe.”

“That’s a lot to put on a girl,” Katniss said quietly. “But I’m glad that I could help.”

Their eyes met and it was like a magnetic force that Peeta found her hand tucking back a tendril of Katniss’ hair behind her ear. Her fingers lingered, feeling the softness of her dark waves and Katniss’ breath caught at the gesture.

Her hand covered Peeta’s and the sensation drew a sharp gasp from Peeta’s mouth.

It had been a long time since she had felt like this.

Stepping towards Katniss, she waited to see if the woman would retreat.

However, Katniss remained still, her mouth parted and her eyelids going half-lidded as Peeta close the space between.

The kiss was careful, her mouth slanting over Katniss’ gently. The feeling of her soft lips caused a groan to draw up from the pit of Peeta’s stomach and escape between their mouths.

It was scary but exhilarating all at once and Peeta never wanted to let her go.

However, Katniss hummed against her lips and reluctantly she pulled away.

“I probably wasn’t supposed to do that,” Peeta told her.

Katniss looked disappointed. “Oh, okay.”

“I mean not without taking you out on a date first.”

Katniss let out a relieved laugh. “Well, we just cut out the needless tension of the first kiss, didn’t we?”

“I guess so,” Peeta replied, taking her hand. “So…”

‘…would like to stay indefinitely?’

“Would you like to have coffee first and then dinner later?”

“And, between then?” Katniss asked, her thumb caressing the top of Peeta’s hand.

“Whatever we want, I have all day.”

I have forever for you.

“Okay.” Katniss beamed. “Let’s start with the coffee.”

#anon #repost #lesbian!Everlark #genderswap #Everlark Fanfiction #Everlark

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bcbdrums · 4 years ago

Text

Feeling

happy birthday, @shegogogirl!!! this fic is based on her headcanon. it is NOT based on mine. go read her outstanding fanfics at @rosesforshego!!!

FFn AO3

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

Shego's step echoed as she shifted her weight to the side, surveying the items on Dr. Drakken's work table. Some were easily recognizable—a hammer, a screwdriver, a soldering iron—but others she had never seen before, and she decided that the blue villain she now worked for was at least more knowledgeable in various engineering fields than she was. But the jury was still out on whether or not he was a 'genius' as he claimed.

Shego glanced over her shoulder to the heavy, metal doors of the lab. They were closed, and the soft hum of machinery was the only sound in the lab so late in the night. She assumed Dr. Drakken had gone to bed, but the lights had been on when insomnia and boredom had brought her down.

She surveyed the objects on the table again and an old curiosity began to surface in her mind. She frowned at the idea as her eyes fell over the hammer again and the memory it brought, and she shook her head to rid her mind of the thought. But she knew it was still there, clawing its way forward as she picked up an unknown object and turned it over in her hands.

It resembled something like a dentist's drill, if she was recalling that tool correctly, and yet something was off about it. It also looked geared to working with larger materials than teeth. After a moment she held the object away from her slightly and flicked a switch on its side. A white glow emerged from the tip of the object as well as an electrical hum. She narrowed her eyes, and then glanced back at the soldering iron.

The thought was back in her mind—the one she had sworn she would never allow again. But looking at the array of tools she had never seen made the curiosity press forward like a drill in her mind, carving a direct line through the barriers she'd erected and going straight to her conscious thought.

'Maybe, one of these...'

Shego felt the hesitation and also the pull—the sense of knowing she was about to cross a line she shouldn't cross, and knowing that there could be ramifications, and also...knowing she had no other choice. With a sick feeling of regret, she pulled off her left glove and dropped it on Dr. Drakken's chair.

The tips of her fingers were nearly black, and a dark green faded to pale in a slow gradient from the tips of her fingers across her palm and to the beginning of her wrist. She flexed her hand twice, amazed at the motion as she couldn't feel any of it excepting the slight pull of tendons in her wrist. And then she looked at the object in her hand.

She felt the first real uncertainty, and after a moment flipped the switch to turn the tool off and picked up the soldering iron instead. That was familiar, and something she had used before. Perhaps, this time...it would be different.

She turned on the soldering iron and waited the length of time she knew it would take to heat. And then without even a breath of caution, she placed the dark, pointed end on her fingertip.

Nothing. There was still nothing.

She drew the iron down her finger toward her palm, watching the texture of the skin change slightly as it was burned. But she couldn't feel a thing. The cost of her powers had been the death of the nerves in her hands. She hadn't felt a thing with them since that horrific comet strike when she was eleven years old.

While she was used to having appendages she could use and never feel after so many years, she still held a fool's hope that one day, maybe...she could feel again.

She turned off the soldering iron and put it down in disgust, turning back to the strange drill-like object that had glowed. She picked it up and turned it on, hesitating as she hovered it over another finger. She had no idea what actual damage the device might cause. But...if she could just feel it...

"Shego?"

Shego startled and dropped the tool as she whirled around, keeping her un-gloved hand behind her back.

"Dr. Drakken!"

The man was fully attired in his blue lab coat, suggesting he'd only been out of the room for a brief interval. He was looking at her expression in confusion which she attempted to school from its panic, but he quickly moved forward and toward the still-running tool she had dropped. She took the chance to grab up her glove from the chair and put it on as he examined the device before turning it off.

"What were you doing with my microscopic laser drill?" he asked when he turned back to her.

"I was...just looking at all the tools. I don't know what most of them are."

Her boss's confusion remained for a moment, but then faded as the boyish glee she was getting used to bloomed on his face.

"Would you like to know what they do?"

"Uh. Sure," she said hastily, even though all she wanted to do was escape from the situation that had very nearly revealed her. But staying to listen would be a better cover.

As Dr. Drakken began talking about the laser drill so rapidly she couldn't have followed if she tried, behind her back she pressed her fingers into her palm one after the other, and then pinched her finger where the soldering iron had run over it.

But there was nothing. She couldn't feel a thing.

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

"And then after my new Robo-Butlers have become a staple in every home, we flip the switch and turn the amiable automatons into my legion of— Shego? Are you listening? Shego?"

Shego startled and looked down. Drakken's gloved hand was covering hers on the work table in the lab.

She pulled her hand away quickly, grabbing it with her other, and Drakken recoiled and blinked. They regarded each other for a moment, Shego's thoughts entirely arrested, until Drakken frowned and blushed faintly, turning back to the robotic component he was working on.

"You could at least listen to the plan!" he spat in defense.

Shego crossed her legs over to the other side where she sat on the work table to face away from him slightly, still holding her hand. She didn't feel anything... Of course she didn't. But something had made her look down. It hadn't been his voice that brought her back into focus. Somehow...it had been his hand on hers.

"Robo-Butlers, legion of doom... Go on," she said, finally waving her hand absently.

She looked at the dead appendage as she set it back down on the table. She knew she hadn't felt anything when he had touched her... She couldn't have. And yet somehow, it was definitely what had drawn her focus.

The curiosity she felt about the moment dissolved quickly into anger. There was no way Drakken had touched her hand for any other reason than to get her attention, but if he had...she still wouldn't feel it. She would never feel anyone touch her hands for any reason at all.

What did it even mean to feel? She had physical feeling in all of her other extremities, though she knew somehow it wasn't exactly what it was supposed to be, due to the comet. And other types of feeling... She couldn't let herself feel anything beyond anger, resentment, greed... Those feelings would drive her as she aided Drakken in his plot to take over the world, and in her own goal to erase every memory the world had of a super-hero named Shego.

No. 'Feeling' wasn't something one did with their body. It was merely the darkness churning in her soul like magma, building until the day it might explode again like it had the day she had left Go City.

"Shego?"

Drakken's voice brought her focus back, and she saw his confusion at what must have been a dark look on her face. But rather than reacting in fear or annoyance to her lack of listening, he simply sighed. Her brow rose.

"Just...hand me those pliers," he said with another sigh.

Shego looked across the table where the tool sat out of reach and picked it up, her fingers grasping the item with the proper amount of strength from both practice and remembered instinct. When she turned back and handed it to Drakken, she watched his fingers brush against hers.

He turned his face away quickly and frowned, another faint blush coming over his cheeks as he used the tool to manipulate some tiny wires. Shego looked at her fingers for a moment before setting her hand back on the table. And she frowned at the sudden unexpected feeling not in the dead extremities, but the one that tried to break through the darkness in her heart.

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

Shego stared at the menace of the glowing and electrified green mass that was the syntho-plasma, out of control and about to consume them both. Suddenly, she had the sense she should turn around. But the threat in front of her caused her to ignore it.

"Shego? Shego!"

A tug in her shoulder caused the villainess to finally turn, and she saw two things. First, that Drakken had a death-grip on her hand—which of course, she hadn't felt him grab—and second, that another mass of the living goo was headed straight toward them.

Shego growled and in one swift movement had thrown Drakken up over her shoulder. She flipped out of the way of the rampaging sentient substance, setting Drakken down when they were clear. And then they began to run.

"I think it's time to put syntho-plasma in the 'fail' category, Dr. D.!" she said between her labored breaths as they sprinted out of the lab in their snowy mountain lair and toward the hover-car bay.

Shego felt that instinct to turn again, and a second after felt a familiar haphazard tug in her shoulder. She looked down to find that Drakken had taken her hand again for some reason as they made their escape, and she looked up to see his face half-turned back the way they had come, twisted in terror and also in thought. Whether he was trying to think of a way to salvage the plan or reason where it had gone wrong was beyond her, but she found her thoughts drifting immediately to his grip on her lifeless hand.

He must have grabbed it to get her attention before, but...she had told him awhile back of her inability to feel with her hands; that every object she held was held due to practice, and memory from childhood. It was why she was occasionally clumsy with new things, which he had very rarely seen because she concealed it well. It was also why she lacked confidence in cooking, as the art required a certain dexterity. No, all her hands were good for were burning things. So knowing this...why had he grabbed one?

After leaping into the hover-car, Shego had expected Drakken to let go. But when she tugged against him to reach for the controls she wasn't able to free her hand. She looked again to where he was holding on tighter, while biting his other hand apparently in attempt to keep from either shouting or perhaps crying, if the way his eyes were pinched shut was any indication. Shego couldn't analyze it in the moment, since the living green plasma was still in pursuit, and with her free hand she started the craft and guided it out of the bay and away from the lair.

The explosion that followed soon after hadn't been caused by Kim Possible that time, but by Drakken's own haste in experimentation. But Shego would yell at the man for it later. Now that they were high in the sky, clear of the pursuit of any green goo and only the scent of smoke interrupting the chill of the air around them at their altitude, she needed first to deal with the fierce grip he still had on her hand when she looked down to the seat between them.

She looked at the way her fingers were contorted in his grasp and frowned for a moment, wondering if he might have broken them. But when she looked up again he was still biting his other hand, and there were definite tears in his eyes.

"Dr. D.?" she asked, suddenly concerned.

He blinked suddenly and turned toward her, and she drew back with a gasp. The left side of his face was burned and even had some slightly blackened spots. Clearly the syntho-plasma, which operated within some kind of electrical field, had touched him in their escape, and she'd missed it.

She swallowed down the lump that had come to her throat both for concern for him, and for the memory of pain that had surfaced at seeing his own.

"If you'll let go of me I can get the first aid kit," she said evenly, surprised at the lack of edge in her tone.

His eyes dropped and then widened at seeing the way he still held her hand. He released her, and after flexing her hand several times and determining that at least her fingers didn't seem broken, she reached below the seat for the case containing their medical supplies.

When she looked up again Drakken had stopped biting his own hand and appeared to be trying to halt his tears. Shego opened the case and then frowned.

"Dr. D., didn't I tell you this needed to be re-stocked?"

Drakken looked down at the near-empty case in her lap but said nothing, only replacing his hand in his mouth to bite hard on it again. She had noted tooth marks in the black leather prior to his doing so. Shego sighed in frustration at the complete lack of any supplies for cleaning or bandaging in the case, but at least there was still plenty of burn gel which was the more important in the moment.

She pulled the cap off of the gel and then hesitated. There weren't even cotton balls in the kit. There wasn't anything she could use to effectively spread the gel onto Drakken's burn.

She gritted her teeth and frowned as she looked up at him again. She didn't know why the tears he was fighting got to her. Or maybe it was the fact that his blue skin was starting to blister, and she still had a memory of similar pain herself. But whatever the reason, and with a small fluttering of fear in her heart, she began pulling the glove from her hand.

Drakken's squinted eyes widened slightly at the sight she had never before let him see, of her blackened fingers with streaks down through the dark green of her palm. Where the color faded to her normal pale green at her wrist, the skin there also softened from the rough scarring that she had gained when the comet's power had first seared through her hands.

She squeezed too much gel from the tube onto her fingertips—a sign of her own nervousness at revealing the ugliness she hid, that she couldn't exert the proper pressure—and then set the tube down in the kit. She lifted her fingertips toward Drakken's face and he watched the movement of her hand.

"This'll be easier if you move your hand," she said through a sigh.

Drakken's brow rose, and he removed the hand from his mouth he'd been biting, hurriedly attempting to dry his tears with the cuff of his glove. His eyes remained on her hand until the gel touched the side of his face. He winced and gave a slight hiss, but then blinked repeatedly as it began to provide relief.

Shego sighed again through her nose, her mind brought back to the moment she had sat up amid flaming wreckage, smoke choking her lungs, and her hands ablaze with a green fire that had terrified her. Now, it was her source of power, and her way of shutting down her anxieties by exerting power over others. But at the time it had been pure fear, and...pain. It was still the greatest pain she had ever experienced, and she hated remembering it. But it was in her dreams... The cries of the dying, the roar of flames...and just pain.

"Thank you, Shego."

She was startled from the horrifying memory at the sound of Drakken's voice. He was looking at her now, and not at her hand, and she could see that the burn gel was providing him some relief. She took a deep breath and then sighed through her nose.

"You're welcome," she said.

Drakken looked hesitant, and then glanced down to where her other hand still held the first aid kit. She followed his gaze and then her own eyes widened as his hand reached for hers, but then stopped halfway there.

"Did I hurt you?"

"What?" Shego asked, her heart suddenly beginning to race. What was he asking?

"When I squeezed your hand."

Shego felt a relief sweep over her at his words, not sure why she had panicked to begin with. There had been no reason for it.

She lifted her free hand from the first aid kit and flexed her fingers again several times.

"Seems to work."

"Does it feel...? Oh. I..."

She retracted her hand from his face with a frown, ignoring his obvious concern over the slip and choosing to wipe the remaining gel on the hover-car seat. She attended to the task meticulously, having to watch to make sure the gel was gone as she couldn't feel when it left her fingers or even that it was on them at all. But when she turned back, she gasped.

Drakken had removed her other glove and was examining her hand. She yanked it away and fell back in the seat, her heart racing again as she was utterly at a loss for words.

"Shego—"

She responded by igniting her hands, the familiarity of the green flames a comfort as Drakken leaned away from the danger.

"I'm sorry!" he cried, waving a hand in innocence. "I was just making sure I didn't break your fingers. I...I'm sorry!"

Shego looked at his horror-stricken and remorseful face with the red burn on the side, looking better already for the gel. She looked at her gloves on the seat between them, and the first aid kit that had slipped from her lap when she jerked away. And then she looked at her hands, the black of her fingers like the charcoal of burned twigs, her palms a strange, dark source of power. The green fire surrounded her hands like a threat and like the safety of a womb.

She let it go out and stared at the appendages, just as dead and unfeeling. She looked at Drakken. He looked less afraid, and...

Shego turned away sharply as she felt tears stinging her eyes, though she wasn't sure why. When people had pitied her in the past, she threatened them. If they had offered condolences, she tore them down with her words. And if they didn't stop she let them know that Shego the super-hero was not who they thought she was. No, she knew what to do with the fire that had destroyed her. It was her strength.

But now, for some reason...when she had seen that look in Drakken's eyes...she couldn't do either of those things. She couldn't threaten him with pain, and she couldn't just mock him. For some reason...it all felt wrong. And instead she was fighting tears.

She hadn't cried in front of anyone since the day the comet struck.

"Shego?"

She blinked and jerked her head slightly in his direction to let him know she had heard, though it wasn't necessary.

"I'm sorry, I should have asked... I'm just worried I broke your fingers. I was squeezing your hand...really tightly."

Shego snatched one of her gloves and used it to dry her tears, then slipping it back on and the other soon after.

"Won't matter if you did. They still work, and I can't feel them anyway."

"I'm sorry... I—"

Shego resumed flying the hover-car, taking them out of the smoke and away from horrible moment.

"Just forget about it, Dr. D.," she heard herself say, though she wasn't sure why she was letting it go so easily. All she knew was...a feeling...different than the memory of fear and pain, and different from the panic she had felt in the moment, was swirling around in her chest. A feeling she didn't recognize.

She glanced at Drakken and then realized...the look on his face wasn't the same as the pity she'd remembered seeing on others during the old hero days. This look was simply...concern?

The new feeling swirled more prominently in her chest, and she tightened her dead fingers on the steering controls. She wondered if actually feeling her hands again would be better or worse than whatever this other...feeling...was, that seemed to be taking over her.

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

Crackling close by. A roaring wash, slightly distant. A siren.

Flames.

Pain.

The sound of crying.

The realization that these sounds and sensations weren't a nightmare or memory, but the present reality, was terrifying. But none of them had been what woke Shego as she blinked up into the darkness of the night.

An orange glow at the edge of her blurred vision confirmed that she was indeed in the midst of a fire. She didn't know where or why. But she knew it wasn't the past, when the comet had struck. It was the present. And she was on the ground on her back, in pain again.

She felt something then. It was only the ghost of a feeling long forgotten, but she still felt it—for just a fleeting moment, and then it was gone. She knew it had been this ghost, and not the chaos surrounding her that had woken her.

She tried to guide her eyes in the direction of where the feeling had come from but only saw her arms. Her brow furrowed. Her arms were not under her control she realized, as they were elevated and she not the one lifting them. Her gaze traveled further and then she saw her hands.

Something pressed against her mind then, insisting this was the source of the feeling that had woken her. But that was impossible... Wasn't it?

She blinked a few more times and tried to force away the blurring in her vision, the sounds of the fire getting nearer a strong motivation. And then she saw the method by which her arms and hands were elevated.

It was Drakken. He was sitting beside her on the ground, one knee pointed up, and her hands rested atop it as he held them in each of his own. And then she saw his tears. His eyes were held tightly shut as whimpering sobs left his lips, tears sliding down his face in streams so rapid the heat of the encroaching fire couldn't evaporate them fast enough. This must have been the source of the crying she had heard.

She watched as Drakken's thumbs rubbed over her fingers, back and forth. If she hadn't been looking she wouldn't have known, as she couldn't feel his touch. And then he set his face down atop her hands as controlling his cries became more difficult.

"Shego..." left his lips in a choked sob. "I'm so sorry, Shego. I'm so sorry."

It seemed to be all he could say, in his struggle to hold back fiercer sobs.

Shego tried to speak, but found her mouth didn't want to work. Attempting to lift her head only revealed just how much pain she was in, as suddenly all of her nerve endings—those still functional—felt like the nearing fire that she feared. It was that knowledge that motivated her past the pain and she forced her head to rise from the stone and metal rubble she realized it was lain upon.

"Dra-..."

His head shot up.

"Shego! You're alive!"

The realization that he'd thought she was dead was eclipsed by the relief in his voice and the startling joy in his eyes. It was this sight she found herself suddenly able to focus on despite her blurred vision. Her head refused to lift any higher and she let it fall back to the ground.

Before he could say anything else however, the siren she had forgotten was suddenly the prominent feature in the atmosphere. Drakken leaned toward her, and she wondered in confusion whether it was out of his own fear, or a desire to protect her.

She watched as police officers pointing guns at them entered the periphery, and the sound of fire hoses blasting water started to eliminate the crackle and roar of fire. She couldn't hear what the officers were shouting as it all became a fog in her throbbing head again.

"She's hurt, she needs medical attention!" was Drakken's desperate reply to the officers. "She was thrown into that tower and electrocuted before it collapsed!"

They shouted something else, but Shego still didn't hear it, nor did she try. Her gaze had fallen slightly to fix on where Drakken still tightly held her hands atop his knee. And through the pain and the distraction around her, she recalled that somehow...it was that touch that had brought her back.

She couldn't feel her hands. She never would feel his fierce, protective hold on them. But the sight sent a different feeling stirring in her chest—one she was starting to grow weary of fighting, and wondering why she ever had.

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

Shego shifted where she lay on the large, round bed. The pillows were soft and comfortable, and the sheets like silk against her skin. But the pleasure of those physical feelings went all but unnoticed for the swell of feeling in her heart.

Drakken sat next to her, her bare hands held up between them. He kissed one palm, and then the other. His lips moved up one scorched and blackened finger, and then down its other side. And then he repeated the process on the next one. And the next...

It hadn't been easy to let go of the rage and the deadness inside that she had made her haven, and to let herself trust the feeling that Drakken had stirred within her. To give up what had been her source of strength and defense for so many years had been a battle, and one that had taken so long to win she feared losing him forever—especially after he had saved the world and everything changed. But it had been that fear that had been her final push, as she realized that life without him was far worse than braving the unknown and letting him in.

She hadn't known that in doing so, a veritable flood of feeling would come crashing over her like waves, utterly destroying the anger and bringing life back to the places that were dead. It was frightening... But she had to open herself to him. It was the only way they could be together. And in depths of her soul, she couldn't deny anymore that he was all she yearned for.

She continued watching as Drakken kissed her hands with all the attention and care in the world. She could imagine that it felt gentle, tender... His kisses to the rest of her body always were. And sometimes when she thought hard enough, she could imagine that she truly felt his touch on her hands. It had been his touch, after all...a touch she couldn't even feel...that had begun cracking through her walls.

She suddenly felt tears prickle in her eyes as she watched his lips linger on the back of one hand before favoring the other with the same, compassionate touch. And all in a rush she realized that she could feel.

"Shego?" Drakken asked worriedly upon seeing her tears. "Is something wrong?"

She shook her head lightly. "Nothing. It just..." She paused to take a shuddering breath as the emotions overwhelmed her. "...It feels so good."

Drakken looked perplexed for only a moment until realizing she didn't mean physical feeling, but the feeling in her heart. And then kissing each of her hands once again, he released them and she instantly locked her fingers behind his neck and pulled him down. Not that he needed any encouragement, but she felt she couldn't wait another moment to have his lips touch hers.

She hadn't known anything like the love he filled her with could exist. But she was certain beyond doubt...it was the greatest feeling of all. And their love... That was the feeling that mattered.

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prettyyoungandbored · 4 years ago

Text

Becoming Mrs. Wayne [The Dark Knight] Four

Pairing: Christian Bale!Bruce Wayne x OC

Summary: Demetria Gallagher knew her cozy life would change the second she became engaged to Bruce Wayne. But what she doesn’t know is she’s getting more than what she agreed to. (I am trash at summaries.)

Warning: None

Taglist: @dragonballluver (Let me know if you want to be tagged in this!)

“27 down is ‘falafel.”

Alfred looked up, shooting a glare at Demetria. Her lips curved into a childish grin.

“The bloody hell is a falafel?” he asked, unamused at the word.

“It’s a fried ball made up of chickpeas and beans. It’s actually delicious.”

He shook his head. “You Americans and your fried food.” He returned his gaze back down to the Gotham City crossword. Demetria snuck another glance at the crosswords, looking for another one she knew right off the bat.

“14 across is ‘David Cassidy.’”

The old man shot her another dirty look. She shrugged her shoulders, desperately trying to hold in her laugh. “I’m sorry.”

Across the yacht, Bruce shifted his attention from the newspaper he was reading and watched the two with an amused smile on his lips. None of the girls he ever brought home acknowledged Alfred (with the obvious exception of Rachel) and if they did it was to ask for something. Demetria had made an effort to get to know and befriend the old man, knowing how much Alfred meant to Bruce. Their friendship and playful banter was something Bruce could get used to for years and years to come.

Demetria made eyes with Bruce and walked over to him, her white babydoll dress blowing with the wind. She pat his legs, motioning him to scooch over. He obliged and she curled up against him, propped up on his lap.

“You looked a little lonely over here,” she said.

He smirked. “You pushed Alfred to his breaking point, didn’t you?”

“I forget how seriously that man takes his crossword puzzles.”

The couple chuckled as Demetria played with Bruce’ slick back hair. The salty aroma filled her nose as the noise of waves crashing against the yacht filled her ears.

“Feels so good out here,” she sighed. “Definitely one of your better ideas.”

“My better ideas? Since when did I ever have an idea that wasn’t good?”

“The one time you took me to that new restaurant and I got food poisoning.”

He laughed, the memory coming back to him. She refused to let him see her in such a state, but he came over anyway to make sure she was hydrated and functioning.

Needless to say, they never went back there and he owed her big time.

Bruce lifted the newspaper up and continued reading, Demetria reading along with him.

“Anything interesting going on back home?” she asked.

“Nothing but the usual mobster activity and an editorial piece about the overwhelming amount of Batman copycats.”

She hummed. “I can’t help but wonder if Batman feels bad about the copycats.”

“I’m sure it gets annoying after awhile.”

“Do you think he feels responsible for them?”

There are times he wants to tell her he’s Batman, but he wants to keep her away from that part of him. He’s been successful so far, why bother bringing her into it now?

Then she changed the subject.

“What’s this?” She pointed at a section of the paper. “‘Witnesses say clown robbed downtown city bank?’”

Bruce took a quick glance at it. “Must be about that bank robbery downtown from yesterday.” He looked over at her to find a disgusted look on her face. “What?”

“I just...clowns...ugh.” She shivered. “Doesn’t sit well with me.”

“You’re afraid of clowns?”

“How could you not be? They’re creepy. Didn’t you ever see ‘It’ or ‘Poltergeist’?”

He chuckled. “They’re not that bad.”

“Well they scare the shit out of me.”

“So I should cancel the clown I hired for our wedding?”

She slapped his arm. “You’re an ass.”

Bruce set down the newspaper. “Speaking of the wedding, I was wondering if you had any ideas or preferences in terms of location?”

She shook her head. “Zero. You?”

He cleared his throat. “I was thinking Wayne Manor.”

Her eyes lit up, a huge smile slapped across her face. “I would love that!”

“Really?” He cocked his head back.

“Yeah! I mean the property is beautiful, plus it’s something that would be comfortable and simple for us.”

“You’re sure you want to do it at Wayne Manor?” Bruce asked.

She ran her fingers through his hair. “Babe, we could go to city hall and get it done and I would still be the happiest woman alive. I don’t care how we get married, I just want to be with you.”

While he never needed a reminder of why he loved her, it was times like these that did. He’d never come out and say it, but underneath the wealth and the vanity he used to mask an protect his true self, he valued the simple things that money could never buy. Demetria shared those same values. Both longed for a quiet and intimate life together which was more than enough.

“I only ask two things,” Demetria said.

“Anything.”

“One, we plan this together. This our day, not just mine and not just yours. It’s ours.”

“Not an issue at all.”

“Two, this wedding is as small as possible.”

He wrapped his arms around her. “It’s done deal.”

As they leaned in for a kiss, the sounds of the helicopter landing drew their attention from each other. They watched as it made a graceful landing.

“The plan has arrived for you sir!” Alfred called out.

Demetria pat Bruce’s knee as she got up. “Have fun breaking off this deal in China.”

Bruce threw off his white shirt, handing it to her. He grabbed the duffle bag and threw it overboard.

“Please be careful, Bruce.”

“For you, I will.”

He gave her a quick kiss before diving into the water. She watched as he swam over to the helicopter before climbing aboard.

She watched as the helicopter flew away before turning to Alfred.

“What number are we on, Alfred?”

“Eighteen across. The clue is ‘Get your own bloody crossword.’”

_____________________________________________________________

A couple days later, Demetria found herself at the entrance to St. Swithin’s Home For Boys. She was grateful the orphanage had taken her call and allowed her to come visit.

She made her way to front desk area, smoothing out her pants. She smiled at the elderly nun at the desk.

“Hi, I’m Demetria Gallagher,” she greeted.

The nun smiled back. “Hello there! We’ve been expecting you! My name is Sister Agatha. You’re here for the tour, correct?”

“Yes! I was hoping to speak with the Mother Superior or Monsignor O’Malley.”

“Unfortunately both were unable to make it due to prior commitments; however, they asked that Sister Mary Ellen give you the tour.”

“Sounds great!”

“Please a seat while I phone her.”

Demetria sat in the bench across from the desk, eyeing around the orphanage. It’s old age was definitely showing. She made mental notes of the broken down wood, the cracks in the wall, and the lingering dust. Her mother would love a project like this.

“Miss Gallagher?”

Demetria looked up to find a nun in her late thirties with kind brown eyes and a welcoming smile. “My name is Sister Mary Ellen. How do you do?”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Demetria said reaching out her hand.

Sister Mary Ellen shook it. “A pleasure to meet you as well. We’re so excited you’ve taken an interest in the orphanage.”

“Bruce has told me so much about this place and I’ve always wanted to come see it for myself.”

“The Wayne Family is such a big part of the orphanage’s history. Bruce has been so generous to us in the past.”

Sister Mary Ellen first took her to the library, named in memory of Martha, Bruce’s mother. Despite it’s broken state, the walls were covered in old books stacked in the shelves.

“Not a lot of boys spend time in here,” Sister Mary Ellen said. “We’ve been trying to get them to, but some are harder to persuade than others.”

“Understandable,” Demetria assured.

Next was the kitchen, then the chapel, and then some of the dorms. While the building was historic, its structure and the components inside were out of date and almost out of function.

There were a a good amount of kids staying in and they deserved a better home.

“May I ask you something?” Sister Mary Ellen questioned.

“Of course.”

“There’s been a lot of talk amongst the nuns about what it is you plan to do and I just...well...what is your intention exactly?”

Demetria chuckled. “It’s ok. I can completely understand the curiosity.” She sighed. “Bruce has always told me how much this place has meant to him, especially after the death of his parents. I know it’s hard for Bruce to give attention to this place and so I wanted to step in and make sure you’re getting not only what you and the boys need, but what you deserve. You all deserve to be living in better conditions and I can guarantee you Bruce agrees with me.”

“What is it you can do for us?” Sister Mary Ellen asked.

“My mother works as an interior designer and would be more than happy to help redecorate. I also know a lot of people who can help make sure this place is functioning properly and is up to all health code standards. I want to make sure you all are taken care of and are given the attention you all deserve.”

Sister Mary Ellen couldn’t help but smile. “What about finances? I know the monsignor and Mother Superior would ask to be kept apprised.”

“They would be. That’s something I’m currently working on, but I want to know what I’m at least working with here.” She smiled. “Although, my mother would do this for free. I know that for certain.”

Sister Mary Ellen chuckled. “Let me take you outside.”

She led Demetria to playground where Demetria noticed four boys playing basketball. She couldn’t help but notice that no matter how hard they tried to dunk the ball in the chain basket, they kept missing.

“May I?” Demetria asked.

“By all means.”

Demetria made her way over to the boys. One boy had black hair with blue eyes, another was African-American with glasses, another boy had blonde hair and freckles, and one with brown hair with glasses.

“Hey guys!” Demetria greeted.

The boys stopped and looked at her. “You guys playing basketball?”

They looked at each other, confused and unsure what to say. She cleared her throat. “My name’s Demetria.”

“I’m Travis,” the boy with black hair said.

“I’m Jonathan,” the African-American boy said.

“I’m Reid,” the boy with blonde hair said.

“I’m Harry,” the boy with brown hair said.

“Nice to meet you all,” Demetria said. “So what are we playing here? One-on-one or Horse?”

“Just some one-on-one,” Reid answered with a shrug.

“You know how to play?” Harry asked.

“A little. My dad was a high school basketball coach so he taught me a few things. Can I see the ball?”

Travis passed her the ball. She dribbled it for a bit before shooting the ball into the basket. The boys stared in amazement, letting out some “whoa”s.

“Alright, so who wants to be able to dunk a ball?” she asked.

They all raised their hands. “That’s exactly what I thought. Ok so watch my hands.”

She picked up the ball and demonstrated the throw with her hand. “See the way my hand curves, like I’m flicking my wrist? Try that.”

Reid took the ball first. He dribbled the ball before throwing it up. The ball went through the basket. The boys cheered.

“See? That was awesome!” Demetria said. She held up her hand for a high five which he reciprocated. “Alright, who’s next?”

Harry went up and threw the ball, making it into the basket.

“Way to go dude!” Demetria cheered, the two high diving. “Who’s next?”

Jonathan went up and threw the ball, the ball circling the basket before falling off. Demetria caught it and threw it back to him, seeing the dejected look on his face.

“You almost got it. Try again.” She smiled at him.

He gave her a nod. He tossed the ball up, this time the ball landing into the basket. The boys and Demetria cheered.

“See! You got it!” she said.

They high fived and Jonathan passed the ball to Travis. Travis dribbled before the ball hit the back of the basket. The ball came back toward him as he caught it, tossed it again and then tossed the ball inside the basket.

The other boys and Demetria cheered.

“Ok, ok,” Demetria said. “Now you guys trying playing.”

The boys then began playing one-on-one, Demetria coaching them and cheering them on. She couldn't help but feel her dad would be proud of her. Sure, she wasn’t an athlete, but she learned a lot from watching him coach from the sidelines all these years.

She then saw Reid pass the ball to her. “Your turn,” he told her.

She smiled. “Alright.”

She dribbled the ball before tossing it into the basket. She grabbed the ball and said, “Who’s next?”

“What’s going on here?”

Demetria turned around to see Bruce walking over. Her smile grew. “Just playing some basketball.”

She watched as the boys’ eyes stayed on Bruce, wide in amazement and wonder. He acknowledged them with a warm smile before gazing at Demetria.

“Tell me, boys, how she doing?” he asked.

The responded, each voice overlapping the other.

“She’s pretty good.”

“She’s good.”

“Pretty good.”

“Good.”

Demetria tossed the ball to Bruce as he caught it in his hands. “Let’s see you’ve got, Wayne,” she challenged playfully.

“Those are fighting words,” he responded, dribbling the ball a bit.

He turned his back to her and tossed the ball as it went into the basket. The boys cheered and clapped as Bruce turned to her, throwing his hands up.

She folded her arms across her chest. “It was just a lucky shot.”

Bruce looked over to one of the boys. “Can I have the ball, please?” They tossed him the ball. He showed it to Demetria. “Why don’t you try and steal it, Gallagher?”

Demetria went over to him as he lifted the ball from her. She jumped, spiking it from his hands. Jonathan caught it and tossed it back to her. She went to shoot it into the basket when Bruce spiked it out of her her hand and picked her up swinging her around.

“Are you kidding me?! I almost had it!” Demetria screamed.

It was then something caught her eye. A figure watching them from across the street.

“Hold on, hold on,” she told Bruce.

He stopped, eyebrows furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

“Give me a sec. I think I see something.”

She walked toward the gate, getting a closer look at the figure. It was a caucasian male with a black baseball cap that said ‘Gotham Times’ on it and a tee and jeans with a bulky vest. Across his neck, a camera.

“What the hell are you doing?” she called out to him. “There’s kids here!”

The man reached up to his camera as she continued to get closer.

“Stop it!” she growled. “Stop!

Bruce rushed over to her, pulling her away. “Demetria, don’t.”

She turned to him. “He’s photographing the kids! He can’t be doing that!”

“Listen, we’ll take care of this when we get home,” he told her. “Right now, just ignore him. The more you go after him, the worse it’s going to be.”

She ran a hand through her hair. “There has to be a line drawn, Bruce.”

“We’ll take care of it home, alright?”

She nodded her head. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He kissed her forehead. “You were protecting the kids. It’s gonna be ok. We’ll fix this.”

He rubbed her arms. “Let’s go back, ok?”

“Ok.”

She took one more look at the photographer before walking away. Bruce had a point, they were going to take care of it.

She was going to take care of it.

#bruce wayne x oc #bruce wayne imagine #batman #batman imagine #batman fanfic #the dark knight #the dark knight fanfiction #the joker #christian bale

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stardancerluv · 4 years ago

Text

Flowers

One shot in between the chapters of Creative Fervor. Very...very early in the relationship between Roman & Reader.

Note: Heard the song Finally by CeCe Pennington, and some of the lyrics made me thing of Reader falling harder for Roman. Those lyrics are in italics.

Roman makes a reference to a “Tiffany” in one telling of Roman, she was his gf he was forced to kill when Joker put her in a position where she would die horribly otherwise. Roman, carried her photo for years afterward. (I couldn’t put that level of angst on my version) but I wanted to make a nod to actual Roman canon.

Warning: none, playful...fluffy flirting...most likely intamacy shortly after the end of the piece.

You woke up feeling good. You were dating Roman Sionis for about two months and it was amazing. He was amazing. Sure there were rumors of just how rough he could be. That was his business. You had yours, which right now was booming.

Tying your hair into a pony tail, you put on some music and got to work. Fabric was flying here and there. You were cutting and sewing.

The song that just hit the right nerve, began to play. Going over to your mp3 you turned up and just began dancing around your studio. You were feeling so good.

Finally, it has happened to me, right in front of my face

And I just cannot hide it

Meeting Mr. Right, the man of my dreams

The one who shows me true love

You happily bellowed out and danced around.

*****

Roman, leaving the restaurant after meeting with Falcone in Little Italy, he unbuttoned his suit jacket as he slid into the back seat of the rolls. He had been a decent enough meeting. The guy was a real asshole. Stretching, he relaxed bringing up his hand he rested against it as the car cut through the traffic.

When they stopped for a red light, he thought of you. He decided then, he would stop by and check on you. He was still getting used to having someone steadily around. It had been awhile since he had dated Tiffany. She had been pretty self sufficient which in the end made things grow apart between them. So far the mutual need between you he was enjoying.

Spotting, a florist he got an idea. He had never given flowers before. Though he was discovering with you, he enjoyed spoiling you. The way you would smile or the way your eyes would light up, tickled him to no end.

“Hey I want to go to that florist.”

“Ahh, yeah. Sure thing boss.”

It took some maneuvering but his driver got him there. Soon he managed to hop out and get the door for Roman.

You surely would like flowers he mused. Moments after walking in he was greeted but the warm flowery scent he had not smelled since he had been a boy who would play outside and get his hands and clothes dirty much to the ire of his parents.

It didn’t take long but he chose colors that reminded him of you. Happy he had chose gold thread to tie it up with. “Lovely like my girl.” He murmured.

“Oh, so she is your girl?”

He shot the florist a look.

They made an apologetic face. “She comes in here often, she had been walking on air lately and there were those pictures of the two of you.”

“Oh, well yes. Yes,” A genuine smile he rarely gave people came to his face. Thinking of you did that. “She’s mine.”

“Very nice.” The florist smiled and relaxed then.

Satisfied, Roman got back in the rolls. “Take me to Y/N’s studio.

Sitting there as they weaved in and out of traffic to get to your studio, Roman remember the night of the gala.

You had worn this elegant black dress. He snapped two pictures of you that night. One of you looking so shy and demure, and the other just lost in the moment being the on the balcony of the suite, enjoying the night air.

They reminded him of all the sides of you that he loved. He had to admit a few shots he had seen in the paper of the two of them made him happy. They had come out, just right.

“I’ll call when we want to head back to the club.” He told his driver, when he slid from the rolls.

Reaching into his pocket, he took out the key you had given him. Almost feeling like he was in his club, your loudly playing music, greeted him.

He smiled when he spotted you, grabbing a chair he pulled it out and sat down. He was going to enjoy this. The sight of you just dancing and singing it.

Admittedly, he smiled a little wider when he heard you add his name to the lyrics. Watching you he was once again reminded of how cute and fun you were. Truly, Roman was relieved that Zsasz had fucked up and brought you to him.

******

Finally, it has happened to me, right in front of my face

My feelings can't describe it

Finally, it has happened to me, right in front of my face

And I just cannot hide it

You continued to belt out and dance about to. But then a scream was ripped from you, when you twirled and suddenly Roman as there smiling at you.

He threw his head back and laughed. “Hi there baby.”

“Roman!” You screamed, shaking your head. You turned down the music and immediately went over to him. “What are you doing here?”

“I finished for the day.” He patted his lap. “Come, get comfortable.”

You smiled and happily draped yourself in his lap. One of your arms around his shoulders, you gave him a breathless kiss on his jaw, enjoying the scent of his aftershave tickling your senses.

“Are you going to tell me how long you saw all of that?” You gestured to where you had been dancing.

“Long enough.” He met your eyes. You could really lose yourself in that blue. “I have something for you.”

“Romy, I told you I don’t need anything. Just you.” You rested your head on his shoulder. Your one hand nestled in his soft hair, loving how it felt.

“Well, I was feeling spontaneous.” He brought his hand up, and in it he held the most beautiful bouquet you had ever seen.

“Oh this,..” You tried to find the right word. “It’s so lovely.” You pressed a big kiss onto his cheek. “Thank you.” Hopping off his lap you went to get something to put it in.

“You better get back here baby, I was enjoying you in my lap.” He gave you a wicked smile.

“I’ll be right back.” You found a vase, filled it and put the bouquet in it and happily made your way back to to Roman. “Gold thread, Roman?”

He smirked. “You are elegant and so is it.” He remarked simply.

You flushed harder at his words. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.”

“I know I am.” The touch of his smugness made your heart flutter.

Coming back over to him, you took down the pony tail and fluffed your hair.

His soft sound of appreciation made your stomach churn happily. “I know how much you like it down.”

“I certainly do.”

Returning to Roman, you decided to straddle him as he sat there. He looked so good. You sighed contently. “How am I always comfortable with you.”

“Because you were made for me.” He shrugged, as his hands settled on your hips.

You smirked. “So are you going to kiss me?”

He drew close but stopped just short of kissing you. “You want me to?”

“Its least you can do after scaring me half to death.”

“I suppose, but I did love watching you.”

“Kiss me to show me how much.”

@darling-i-read-it @spn-obsessed-dean @vintagemichelle91 @xxxeatyourh3artoutxxx @ewanfuckingmcgregor @zodiyack @angel98624 @frenchgirlinlondon @nebulastarr @emyliabernstein @thepeachreads @itsknife2meetu @omghappilyuniquebouquetlove @nomnomnomnamja @poe-kadot26 @babydoll97 @hazel-nuss @vcat55 @feelthemadnessinside @johallzy @foreverhockeytrash @frostypenguinoz @starwarsslytherin @professionalclown @chogisss @shantellorraine @xxinvisiblexx @blondekel77 @saphic-susperia @drarrylov3r @i-cant-hear-you16 @deadlymistress24 @yesqueenofthelight @generallj

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ladyfawkes · 4 years ago

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[I know what you're thinking -- and the answer is NOPE. THIS IS NOT A REPOST. THIS IS THE ACTUAL THIRD UPDATE (count 'em, THREE!!) in less than a month!! WOOPAH!!!] Tangled Just Before Ever After Chapter 4: Down the Hatch Current word count: 10103 Chapter 4 Summary: How in the world does Eugene answer Rapunzel's question??? Can the author manage to eek out yet another chapter from within the Tower??? WILL OUR COUPLE EVER GET BACK TO CORONA?!? S0ooOoo MANY qUeStiONs!!11!!

Eugene gulped hard several times; the silence stretched a bit too thin between his forthcoming answer and Rapunzel’s question. Eugene could feel that old standby instinct of wanting to lie through his teeth threatening to take over. But this was Rapunzel before him…. And this much he’d learned by now; if an honest woman confronts you about your past hookups, you should level with her. Though Eugene would've told Rapunzel whatever she wished to know, no matter when she chose to ask. After he’d been exploited for so many years by the likes of Stalyan and the Baron, Eugene had reached a breaking point fairly early on where he couldn’t bring himself to seduce the innocent anymore. He’d never liked doing that in the first place since it made him feel cheap, sleazy, and just all-out gross. Even grifters had to draw the line somewhere. It was yet another reason why he’d left Stalyan.

Eugene also knew that if he had to start running interference regarding his past during his first day as Eugene Fitzherbert the gentleman ….then he’d have to keep lying forever afterward….just like Flynn had. And Eugene was simply tired -- no, exhausted -- from all of the running, running, running. Flynn Rider had been on the move ever since he ditched the orphanage before his 10th year all those years ago. No more running, Eugene resolved. Even if leveling with the princess means she wants me out of the picture, so be it. She deserves to hear the truth from the source.

“Rapunzel….” Eugene began delicately, “the short answer to your question -- I’m sorry to say -- is far too many. But I’m requesting that we put a bookmark in that answer; we’ll circle back around to finish it.” Eugene nearly lost his nerve to continue after seeing the crestfallen look in Rapunzel’s eyes. He instead busied himself by locating the ring-shaped pull embedded in the trapdoor of the floor. After tugging on it, he noticed it wouldn’t budge. Without prompting, Rapunzel volunteered further information, explaining how when the princess was still little, Gothel always made her go up to the loft before she opened the trapdoor for her trips away. The crone never wanted the girl to figure out how to operate it. Thus Rapunzel said, “But you’re good at finding your way out of places. I figured you could make the mechanism work -- even without having seen Gothel’s trick to unlatching it.”

No sooner had Rapunzel said the word “unlatching” when a sharp click-THUNK issued from the floor. “Found it,” announced a smirking Eugene, as he moved the toe of his boot off of the otherwise camouflaged mechanism. He couldn’t help feeling a little smug after having effectively outthought that diabolical dead woman….again. The young man repositioned himself to again tug the metal ring and sure enough, the trapdoor swung open this time.

“After you,” said Eugene, gallantly gesturing Rapunzel down the next set of stairs.

“If only I had met you sooner,” Rapunzel said wistfully, as she shook her head. She’d tried to find that hidden mechanism in the floor for years. Eugene had discovered and figured out how to disarm it in mere seconds.

Eugene could not help his contrite chuckle. “Rapunzel, if we had met sooner -- even one year earlier, I doubt I ever could’ve left this place the first time. But it would’ve been for an entirely different reason.”

“Oh, yeah?” Rapunzel challenged, an unexpected edge to her voice. She folded her arms and demanded, “And what’s that?”

“Well, for starters,” said Eugene, his voice becoming far more subdued, “you never would’ve reached the fateful decision to enter a trust agreement with the kingdom’s most disreputable scoundrel. I mean….how could you?” Eugene pondered softly. “Especially based on the faulty info you’d been given about the world in general, you wouldn’t have had a reason yet to take the chance on our deal. Gothel’s control freakishness….hadn’t yet pushed you to the brink. Instead, she would’ve come home, you would’ve had no choice but to tell her that you’d caught me breaking in, and….well….”

“Don’t say that,” Rapunzel abruptly cut him off, abandoning her walk down the stairs, instead rushing over to grab Eugene’s free hand. “Don’t you ever say that,” she admonished, eyes wide. “Even if you had remained a perfect rogue stranger to me, Eugene Fitzherbert, I never would’ve wanted that old crone to hurt you on purpose. And especially not like... this,” finished Rapunzel, once more stretching her palm and pressing it against the jagged bloody tear in his doublet. A renewed ember of hope sparked inside him. And before he knew it, Rapunzel was apologizing, of all things!

“I….I’m sorry I put you on the spot that way regarding, ah, any prior relationships. It wasn’t fair of me to throw something like that on you so suddenly.” Meekness overtook Rapunzel and she looked at the floor, absently tracing out an invisible half-circle with her big toe. “Besides,” she confessed, “I only did it to distract you from my own awkwardness. But….but you kept…..insisting I should tell you what was bothering me since you are trustworthy.” Eugene was swift and carefully set the trapdoor down with the hinge open outward. He also briefly removed and set down his satchel.

The anxious young man went directly to Rapunzel with open arms but halfway through the motion thought that perhaps he shouldn’t, because Eugene didn’t want her to feel obligated to reciprocate. So the keyed-up man kept his fingers curled into his palms rather than reach out, and he kept his arms from raising above waist height. He was half-frozen, trying earnestly not to telegraph what he truly wished to do.

Eugene’s own thumbs must’ve betrayed him, though, as they involuntarily flexed, splaying outward from his balled fists. Rapunzel approached him and briefly gazed into his eyes with a hint of smile behind her own. She proceeded to lean over and take each of his hands, in turn, and tenderly kiss each errant thumb, in turn. Yet any embarrassment Eugene felt over her keen perception would soon melt away. For the princess took his left wrist and placed his arm over her right shoulder, took his right wrist and guided his arm around her waist, and then she mirrored the gesture with her own arms around him. The pair had briefly stopped their world to oh-so-carefully melt deeply into each other. After some time, they briefly broke their embrace. Rapunzel drew her arms in and criss-crossed her upper body with them, tucking in right up against Eugene’s chest. This allowed the sweet young man to attentively draw the princess into himself so tightly, nearly tight enough for him to wrap his arms around her twice as he buried his entire face into her silken hair. Each time they embraced….Eugene was simply floored with just how perfectly they “fit” one another; she could nestle comfortably and flush against his own shape, creating a head-to-toe highway of warmth and love.

Eventually, contented humming issued from Rapunzel’s throat. “I’ve never felt this safe before,” she murmured in awe, her face still pillowed against Eugene’s chest. “Nobody’s ever held me like this before either.” This realization had moved the princess to tears. Eugene leisurely placed a ring of popcorn kisses around the crown of her head in effort to soothe. “Dearest Sunshine of mine,’ he whispered into her hair, “I can promise you there’s so much more where that came from…..” and he was able to draw her imperceptibly closer into himself.

Soon moisture pricked the corners of his own eyes, for Eugene had a similar epiphany to Rapunzel’s. In all his years of relative isolation on the run, Rider never once allowed himself to partake in anything on this type of intimacy level. He’d always been keen to its existence, though. And he knew it was so much deeper and more meaningful than sex. And being the secretly sensitive person Eugene was, it was something he furtively craved but couldn’t bring himself to put that type of expectation upon another human being, knowing the unfavorable lifestyle he led.

And here this fractured thief managed to get caught up within a perfect healing ray of sunlight….and she was willing to take him on along with all his demons, even without knowing the full story in advance. And boy, did he ever have more than his fair share of demons. In spite of himself, Eugene had to say it again. “Sunshine…..I don’t deserve you.”

He immediately heard a tiny huff of impatience from her. “Eugeeeeeene,” Rapunzel overemphasized with mild vexation, “deserving or not, I’ve chosen you. You are forever my new dream. So….so start acting like it….please?” she implored, gazing at him with wide-open concerned eyes. Even her pep talk to him had proven about as rough and tumble as dandelion fluff.

“For you, Sunshine.” Eugene caressed her cheek. “It’ll be a struggle for awhile….but I will no longer speak of ‘deserving to have you.’ I shall instead focus on ‘building new dreams with you’.”

“Thank you,” Rapunzel said gratefully. “It….just….hurts me to see you thinking so much less of yourself due to circumstances now beyond your control.” She slipped her hand into Eugene’s own. And it was that moment he finally found an opening to finish what he started.

“Circling back to the bookmark in our conversation…. Rapunzel…. Ever since the first time you chose to address me as Eugene, everything...the past few days...has been unlike anything I’ve ever felt or experienced with any woman before. It’s all new….all of it. So many firsts already. Nonetheless, you still have every right to ask me about whomever I’ve been with prior to when we met. And while I do intend to eventually tell you about those encounters -- if that’s what you want -- you should also be aware that for me, Eugene Fitzherbert, it’s still a little too soon to openly discuss much of anything just yet. But I will try for your sake, if that’s what you need.” He briefly bowed his head, his eyelids automatically sliding shut.

Rapunzel was so fleet-footed that Eugene had not heard her change positions to where she grabbed his satchel, immediately encouraged Eugene to open his eyes and to help a struggling Pascal who was now lugging a forgotten cast-iron frying pan, and she started down the steps at long last. That was….abrupt, Eugene thought to himself. If Rapunzel was perpetually so talented at keeping him on his toes, then he’d best get himself some better boots -- and soon!

“You okay?” asked Eugene, just to make sure. He grabbed the brass ring of the trapdoor and just before he closed it…..he looked around the Tower one last time. He knew that he should feel the most ominous and terrified that he’d ever felt, especially upon glimpsing his own bloodstain on the floor. But something…..someone was protecting him. And even though he was neither superstitious nor believed in ghosts, once in awhile he would privately allow himself the indulgence of conjuring up invented people and imagery from his past. Fleetingly an image of who could only be his mother comes to mind; it was her spirit that must’ve been shielding him from the worst of today’s trauma, he decided. Thank you, he mouths the words to a seemingly empty Tower, pulling the trapdoor tight shut forever.....

“I’m more than okay,” Rapunzel replied enthusiastically, as she made her way down the dingy spiral staircase. “Who cares about past relationships when you can tell me about all of those firsts you just mentioned instead?”

Eugene almost -- almost -- laughed aloud with relief. Here he had been so worried about past relationship questions when Rapunzel instead wanted to be told all about the present. Three days, and this was the only thing he’d come across so far in which Rapunzel was anything like any other woman he’d met. And Eugene was more than happy to indulge her need to know just how special she had become to him and why.

A/N: I hate to do this (haven't done it here before) but I'm getting next to NO feedback and the same goes for reblogs. If you enjoy my writing, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE -- even if you write no review--reblog this?? It's the only way this story goes out anywhere. It's an author's life blood. You all know how isolating and ridiculous tumblr's stupid search algorithm is.....

#tangled fanfiction #my fanfiction #Rapunzel + Eugene #TJBEA #RTA #rapunzel's tangled adventure #pascal the chameleon #Frog #Tangled the Series #TTS #OTP #fanfiction romance

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