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sidekickjoey · 5 years

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Fireworks & First Times

Rating: M Word Count: 10,207 Summary: On the night of their wedding, Eugene knows he and Rapunzel have a duty to carry out for the whole of Corona. However, when nerves get in the way, he has to rely on trust in his beautiful new bride to venture forth and conquer this new territory together. A/N: This has been in my drafts for MONTHS because I wanted it to be absolutely perfect. I had such a blast writing it and loving it, and I hope you all enjoy it as well. Let me know what you think if you like it :) Eugene has known this day would come.

Fitted in his wedding best, he sits watching lords and ladies dancing inside the castle, his newly adorned wedding ring clinking against his ale to the beat. The day has been a success – well, despite some minor setbacks that led to their moving inside for the reception. Gotta love the horse and the frog, the scamps. Regardless, everyone cheered for their princess and new prince consort, and the kingdom jumped right into celebrating as if nothing strange had ever happened – as they were accustomed to. As for Rapunzel? Well, Eugene has never seen her happier.

He wishes he could say the same for himself.

He is happy, do not get him wrong! Finally being married to the girl of his dreams, his new dream, after years of asking and asking is no small feat to him. He loves referring to her as “Mrs. Fitzherbert,” and seeing that sparkling ring on her finger as she dances holds a special place in the depths of his heart.

However, a small voice in the back of his head is reminding him, very poignantly every few minutes, that he has a very important duty to uphold after the guests leave – one that he has silently been watching the clock in fear of.

He has to consummate the marriage.

Again, it is not that he does not want to consummate the marriage. Hell, respecting the King and Queen’s wishes for their daughter to remain pure until her wedding night is one of the hardest things Eugene has ever accomplished. He wishes he could have that on posters across the kingdom rather than his mugshot. It would be more impressive.

Rapunzel is gorgeous. She might not realize it, but he sees her body as perfect in all the right ways. Not to mention, her brunette locks really do do something for him. He wants to run his hand through them when her head is thrown back in pure bliss, tugging gently through his own release as she whimpers out his name. He wants to hold her and really feel her beneath him, knowing they really, truly are one. He has wanted that for so achingly long. What he does not want, however, is to hurt her.

And he is so scared he will.

The fact is, his new, delightful, gorgeous wife is tiny. A mere five-foot-two, give or take a few. She is light sans the seventy-five feet of golden hair, and while she is strong, Eugene does not doubt that he could accidentally squish her if he was not careful.

He, on the other hand, is a well-built man, with muscles passed down from his father and years of climbing architecture. Additionally, he’s also not too badly endowed down below. At all. It is embarrassing for him to admit, but if he manages to not crush the poor girl on their wedding night, Eugene is terrified he might just not fit.

Flynn Rider never had these worries. There were some days where he slept with women far smaller than Rapunzel without a care in the world. He was rough and tough and tossed all about with them. It was what was expected from Corona’s master thief, and he learned to play the part well over the years.

The issue with Rapunzel is that she is now married to Eugene Fitzherbert, not Flynn Rider. Eugene Fitzherbert is expected to be a perfect gentleman with the restraint of a saint and the tenderness of a lamb, because he is softer than Flynn and held to a much higher standard by the crown. However, Eugene only has the rough-and-tough Flynn knowledge to go off of. He is terrified that that knowledge will accidentally take him too far too fast and frighten her. That is why he is dreading his wedding night. That is why he has been face-deep in ale.

Eugene Fitzherbert is scared.

“Eugene!”

He jumps at the call of his name. However, as soon as his little ball of sunshine bounds forward and beckons his attention, his body falls at ease. It knows her presence well.

Rapunzel is truly radiant – even more so than usual on this day. Flowers weave through her hair, most likely from her giving in and letting the kingdom girls have their way with her. Her makeup is subtle, yet he notices her lashes pop a bit more and her cheeks appear rosier. She is a figure of a dream – his dream. His dream he hardly deserves. He tugs her into his side with a tired smile and kisses the top of her head as her happiness blossoms before him. She melts into him, giggling at the closeness of her groom.

“Hello, princess.”

“Hello, husband,” she sings, and the song is wonderful.

“What have you been up to?”

“Well, I just spoke to my parents,” she replies, “and Father said that we have an entire room of wedding gifts in the castle waiting for us. Can you believe that? We are going to have so much to look through tomorrow before we leave!”

Eugene nods, grabbing his ale for a quick sip. Ah, yes. Tomorrow. The honeymoon. The crown had gifted the newlyweds with a weeklong trip to a remote Corona-owned private island. He has been looking forward to it ever since Rapunzel blessed him with the news a few weeks prior, despite the nerves and all. There was a rumor the staff there made great mimosas.

“Of course I can believe it, sweetheart. The kingdom loves you. Why wouldn’t they spoil you on one of the biggest days of your life?”

Rapunzel tuts and prods his vest. “They love you too, Eugene. The gifts are for both of us.”

“Mmm.”

“I also spoke to Mother for a bit,” she continues, fidgeting with her newly placed wedding ring. “I’m actually glad I ran into you, because she told me a few things that left me confused. I wanted to ask you about them.”

Confused. Yup, that sends a bad feeling to Eugene’s stomach. A mother discusses only a handful of topics with her daughter the day of her wedding, and the odds of their conversation surrounding the topic at the front of his anxious mind are…way too high. Eugene isn’t prepared to answer questions about that in the middle of a very public wedding reception, thank you very much. At least, not when he is fairly sober.

He swallows hard.

“What’s on your mind, Blondie?”

“Well, she just was so vague.” Rapunzel ditches her ring to better watch where she walks as she paces. Each step she takes makes Eugene’s heart quicken. “I mean, she told me I would be in for an interesting night with you once the reception ends. What does she mean by that? And how can things get interesting when we are leaving the reception? Isn’t the party over then? It makes no sense!”

Eugene stares back at his wife, expression as blank as a slab of concrete.

Okay, so he definitely needs to have a conversation with his new mother-in-law about how to phrase things to her daughter when they return from the island. Also, a talk about honesty could do her some dire good.

Interesting?? Interesting does not even remotely cover what is planned! Not to mention, it does not prepare her for what is to come at all. Queen Arianna could have given her the PG birds-and-bees talk he got when he went through puberty at the orphanage and it would have caused less trouble. Eugene grimaces.

“Eugene? Are…you okay?”

Shit, she’s still here.

Eugene flounders upon snapping back to reality, and in his floundering, his hand instinctively reaches for his ale. The bitter taste hits him hard with the strong gulps he takes on impulse, but he does not flinch. He continues sipping until he can slam the mug down empty and laugh a little too wildly at his wife, hoping to everything she won’t point out just how ridiculous he suddenly is being.

Lucky for Eugene, Rapunzel is no stranger to his mid possible-panic states, and she knows not to interrupt them with questioning no matter how confused it makes her. A panicked Eugene is an irrational Eugene incapable of answering his name if asked. However, as he seems to touch back with reality a few moments later, she dares to let a sliver of her concern show.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine, sunshine,” he sputters with a wipe of his chin on his sleeve. “Sorry, I um…I was not expecting to be asked all of…that.”

“Is there something you need to tell me?”

“As a matter of fact?” He sighs, pressing his palm to his forehead. “Yes. Yes, we need to talk so I can try to clarify things, but not here.”

As much as he would love to give in to the puppy-dog eyes she is giving him, Eugene knows speaking about such private matters with Rapunzel could prove deadly in front of royal courtiers. Royal “privacy” and all. The grand ballroom was no place for such conversation.

“Okay. Where then?”

“In our bedroom, after everything is over,” he instructs, placing his hands on either side of her shoulders. “I’ll let you know what is on my mind, and you can ask as many questions as you want. Honestly. Right now though, I need you to go about the reception like you normally would. Woo guests, smooth talk snobby courtiers, kiss babies-”

“The usual,” she snickers. Eugene cannot help but smile.

“The usual,” he agrees. “I’ll come find you when everything settles down, I promise.”

With a kiss to his cheek, Rapunzel leaves his side and goes off to do as instructed. She is a natural at easing into conversation, Eugene notices, and it takes her only seconds away from him before that blinding smile and bubbly personality of hers brings a group of courtiers into a delightful exchange. It makes his heart swell with pride.

But, that all shrivels away the moment he realizes what is awaiting him at her return.

He is going to have to talk with her.

Talk-talk.

About sex.

He previously figured he would not have to have this conversation with anyone other than perhaps his and Rapunzel’s future children. Even then, he figured he would only need to talk to the sons of the family. Rapunzel is a marvelous teacher and, with some experience, he knows she could give one heck of a rendition of “the talk” with their metaphorical daughters – one far better than anything he could come up with. It is this same line of thought that makes him worry about teaching Rapunzel the ropes. He can come up with something on the fly and educational for his sons. He is not entirely sure he can do the same for his wife.

The thought plagues Eugene the rest of the night. He wars with himself between refills of ale and vaguely familiar courtiers congratulating him over just how to break the subject to her. Honesty seems like the best way to go, but what if he oversteps and says too much too fast? If he sugar coats the truth, he runs the risk of losing her trust completely. Such a dilemma can hardly be solved in the span of a night on a hazy head and frazzled set of nerves.

And yet, he has no choice, for guests are leaving and it is readily approaching when he must snag Rapunzel away from the action to fulfill their duties. A quick scan of the room finds her nearby the buffet, chatting happily with a few ladies. Their wide eyes are soaking in an elaborate story about Pascal, and Eugene can tell Rapunzel is having a blast telling it. He almost hates himself for having to break it up. But, he knows they have business to attend to.

Serious business.

So, in one fair swoop, he waltzes forward, excuses them both, and kindly thanks the girls for coming while extracting his wife away. The girls thank them for inviting them and for the story, and Eugene watches as Rapunzel sadly tells them goodbye over her shoulder as she follows him into the hall.

“Is it already time to go? I was just having so much fun!”

“It is,” he confirms, placing his hand on her shoulder. “For us, anyway. Don’t worry though, the night is still young. C’mon, follow me and I’ll show you.”

It feels weird for Eugene to heard toward their new room. Months and months of heading off into their separate corners of the castle had become so commonplace that doing otherwise felt wrong. Yet, Eugene did not want to be right. No matter how frayed his nerves were, he was glad to have a space he could finally call their own with Rapunzel. A private space where they could simply exist.

He lets her go into the room before him, the gentleman he is. She twirls around the room in a way only Rapunzel can, obsessing over the details with a merry voice – the large dresser, the crackling fireplace, the grand King-sized bed. She reacts kid in a candy store, and it makes Eugene smile as bright as the sun. He takes special care to lock the door behind them as she goes to observe the bedding, gushing over how smooth it looks as her hands run along its raised, quilted patterns. Her enthusiasm subsides slightly, however, as she hears the click of the lock.

She does not know why, but something about seeing Eugene stoic at the door and hearing the silence between them makes her feel like she is about to be lectured. It is a harsh contrast from the fun night, and it confuses her. Eugene had not mentioned anything about lecturing. He only mentioned fun. She awkwardly smiles at him, unsure of really what to do with herself in preparation for what might be coming her way. After a few seconds of deliberating, she settles for sitting on the bed. Eugene folds his arms across his chest with a slow, unsteady sigh as she does.

“I love you. You know that, right?”

“Yes,” she nods, eyeing him cautiously from her new spot. “Yes, of course Eugene. You’ve never given me any reason not to. Why?”

“I…I’m about to tell you a lot, and we’re going to end up doing some stuff you might be nervous about, but no matter what is said or done, I want you to know that you can trust me.” Rapunzel’s suspicion does not erase itself from her face, but she nevertheless gives him permission to continue. “You also can tell me if…if at any time, you are concerned or uncomfortable or not enjoying what is happening. I promise – no, I swear to you, I will listen without judgement. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she says softly, “but I’ve got to say, you saying all of this is making me actually nervous.”

“It’s alright to feel that way.” It will all be okay soon enough, he tells himself. “I’m nervous, too. But everything will turn out well. I promise.”

“Are we about to go on an adventure, Eugene?”

Well, that was unexpected.

Chuckling, Eugene shakes his head. “No, Blondie. What makes you think that?”

“You sound like you are giving a pep talk for an adventure,” she shrugs, peering up at him from beneath her lashes. “I don’t know.”

“Well, I suppose in some sense, this will be an adventure.” Eugene leaves the doorframe and joins Rapunzel on the bed. He sits a respectable distance from her, giving her space and the ability to easily observe his face if she wants. It is a good call, for she seems to enjoy the view, taking his hand into hers. He gives hers a reassuring squeeze and tries to enjoy his own view for a moment before launching into the dreaded talk.

“Have…have you ever heard or read anything about sex, Rapunzel?”

Corona’s princess pauses to think.

She assumes the word in question has something to do with couples – otherwise they would not be together in such a private setting to discuss it. Her tutors told her private conversations were saved for matters of state or relational concerns, and she was fairly certain all of her royal duties were on hold until after the honeymoon. However, out of all of the couple-related books she has ever read, not one mentioned the word. It even feels foreign to mouth out with her lips – a sight Eugene takes in with a blush and zero air into his lungs. Mind thoroughly searched, she rubs her thumb against the slightly calloused skin of his hand and shakes her head.

“Is it bad I haven’t?”

“No,” he assures, “it is not. And sex isn’t bad, either. It’s something that’s supposed to be beautiful, I-I think. At least,” he pauses, flashes of past raunchy encounters assaulting his mind, “I’ve read it that way.”

This peaks Rapunzel’s interest. Inching a bit closer to him, she rests her head on her free hand and gazes up at him, beckoning for him to say more. It reminds him of a time long ago, a younger time, when she gave him that same kind of glance after healing his hand. He felt warm knowing she still held that inquisitive innocence after all this time, when the years packed on knowledge and wisdom.

“Really?”

Nodding, he tilts his head to the side and watches her. “You know how, some nights, you sneak into my chamber and we spend the night together?”

Rapunzel blushes scarlet. She loves hiding from the guards and sneaking inside, surprising Eugene midway through his nightly routine with a kiss and giggle. Falling asleep beside him and being carried back to her room before they get caught is one of the most wonderful certainties of her new palace life. Confident, she nods. “Yes. Those nights are my favorite.”

“They’re mine, too,” he smiles. “What is your favorite part about them, sunshine?”

Again, she pauses to think. “When you hold me in your arms.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I feel protected when you hold me,” she says, innocently grinning. It is true, after all. She never feels safer than when wrapped up by him. Not even a million guards outside her bedchamber could make her feel as protected and cherished as finding a home in Eugene’s arms did. Her grin softens. “I also like how I get to kiss you without anyone getting mad or awkward.”

“Oh,” he asks, a corner of his mouth turning up, “you do?”

Nodding, her bashfulness brings her face away from his. “Your lips are kinda really soft, Eugene.”

“Good to know that expensive lip balm I buy in town is paying off.”

Rapunzel snorts. “You’re so silly.”

“But you love it,” Eugene smiles.

“Mmm.”

“In case you were wondering, I asked you about you sneaking into my room for a reason,” he says, bringing Rapunzel back to attention. “You actually provided me with two great answers. You see, sex? It involves a lot of kissing and being close like you mentioned. It’s just more intense and, well, warm.”

“Warm?”

“Like you captured the energy of the Sun and fit it into a single moment of your existence.”

Rapunzel looks at him with a been there, done that kind of stare, and it makes Eugene laugh. Of course she knows what it feels like to have the Sun in you. It literally had been in her, for years.

“Alright, perhaps I could have phrased that better,” he chuckles, shaking the thought away. “How about this. You know when the kingdom shoots off fireworks to celebrate the new year?”

Oh, the fireworks. How could Rapunzel not? Only a few months before, the fireworks had rocked her world. She had stood hand-in-hand with Eugene on her balcony for hours watching the bright colors explode in the air. one by one. They held such splendor and grandeur and thrill. The mere thought of this so-called “sex” containing that thrill makes her feel as adrenaline-pumped as she had been on that day.

“It’s like fireworks?”

He smiles. “At the end, yes. Up until then, it’s warm and like…like little sparks. Little sparks that spread out and grow more elaborate and intense until the grand finale where they bring out the real big guns! If you trust me, I think it would be easier for me to show you.”

For a moment, he loses her. Not even the promise of fireworks can soothe a head full of suspicions, and even though he is going painfully slow with her and explaining things in ways she can understand, he knows she has a lot to still be nervous of. Mother Gothel had filled her head with loads of wrong and terrifying tales about the consequences of trusting men intimately. Not to mention, she can obviously tell he is withholding information from her. Both thoughts swirling through her mind give ample reason to fear handing over her most intimate self, even to someone who she loves more than the world.

But, through the anxiety that is causing her to slightly shake, she sees love staring back at her. Eugene loves her. Adores her. He would never hurt her the way Mother Gothel said he would. And, whatever information he is holding back, he probably will disclose when the right time comes. He does that a lot in normal conversation, anyway. She has every right to believe he will do the same here.

So, she nods and allows Eugene to do what he needs to do.

With his newfound permission, he moves to cup her cheek and guides her into a slow, sensual kiss. The initial apprehension wears off after a minute or two as her body begins to respond naturally. Uncertain breaths are replaced with little sounds, ones that before gave Eugene goosebumps in his bed and now give him a flood of warmth to his lower abdomen in their shared abode.

Every sound leaves him wanting and needing more. Eugene finds his mind shifting further from his Prince Consort persona to his old Flynn Rider one with as each moan slowly chips at his control. They just sound so lovely to his ear. So raw. He wants to make them louder, to really blow her mind. He wants to elicit the same squeals and nails-down-his-back pleasure in her that he got from the girls he swooned and shagged at pubs years before. Before he can fight it, his emotions make him get carried away.

All he does is deepen their kiss with a slip of the tongue and a swift grasping of the back of Rapunzel’s hair, but it is a lot for her to handle. Eugene was never forceful when they kissed. Passionate, yes, but not rough. This tug to her hair is forceful, and it stirs up a bit of hesitation inside Rapunzel. Before she can stop herself, a small yelp escapes. Eugene pulls back with a look of horror and guilt.

No, you idiot, stop being so…roguish!

He cannot believe himself as he gives Rapunzel a moment to breathe. They are not even undressed and already, he is screwing things up. Scaring her. Moving too fast. Can he not relax himself long enough to do this right?

But, though he would so very much love to at the moment, he is not going to toss himself off the side of the tower in self-punishment. Instead, he swears to himself that he is going to make his wrongs right. After a deep breath in and out, Eugene gently eases Rapunzel into a softer version of their previous kiss. A redo. He continues to use tongue, but there is less ferocity involved this time. It is more tender and loving, and it calms Rapunzel in no time. After a few minutes, she is moving her lips against his like she had back in his bedchamber: playfully confident. The little noises resume, and Eugene takes that as an opportunity to let his lips venture from hers to her jawline and neck.

It is a new and foreign feeling for her, but Eugene is a pro. He knows to let her noises guide him. His lips stray where she sounds the happiest – a place right near her pulse point, he learns – and make sure to leave as many kisses as he can.

And my, do they ever feel wonderful to place.

Her skin is incredibly soft. If Rapunzel thinks his lips are soft, it is surely because she has never taken the time to feel how soft her skin is. It is Eugene’s utmost pleasure to nip and kiss at it, staining it with little marks he will probably have to explain to someone royal later, if not also Rapunzel. He loves the taste and the feel, and the way each mark reminds him that she is his wife and forever will be until the end of their days.

Her body is so wonderful as well. They are nowhere near in the best position for bodily contact – a fact Eugene makes a mental note to rectify that in the upcoming minutes – but he is able to place a hand on the small of her back and keep her close. He loves the way he can feel her moving, especially when he tries to leave a mark and she arches her spine to accommodate the sensation. It’s breathtaking. He never imagined the little things like these would drive him wild.

When Eugene feels a soft tug at his hair, he realizes he is not the only one losing themself to the moment’s feelings. Rapunzel’s fingers have found a home in his chocolate brown locks, her nails scratching his scalp, and she is living. Upon inspection, her eyes are fluttered shut, and for the first time that night, Eugene sees a glimpse of total trust. Trust in him. His own heart swells, and he thanks her silently for it by adding a firm mark to her favorite spot. As an extra gift, he moans back at her.

He can hear Rapunzel’s heart beat faster in response.

With her now more in tune with her body, Eugene decides it is okay to take things a bit further in the touch department. With the hand not already on her back, he begins to trail lower and lower from its original home on her jaw until he finally lays his full palm upon her breast.

Her reaction to this went better in his head.

Rapunzel gasps at the foreign touch. She is slightly alarmed and very suspicious of it, because why would he ever touch there, but her curiosity urges her to remain still and not retract. Eugene, very nearly reconsidering the jumping off the balcony idea, catches the hint of present curiosity and stops his own retraction in its motion. Instead, he briefly recaptures her lips and follows his eyes down to where his hand remained. He raises his brow.

“Is this okay?”

Rapunzel is not sure what to say.

Is it okay? It’s not like it hurts. In fact, in her heightened state of awareness, it feels pretty nice to have his firm hand on her. But, no one had ever indicated it was okay to touch her there. The seamstresses who measured her even tried to avoid it in their work, so why was it suddenly okay for him?

Though her mind said one thing, her heart said another. Eugene had asked her to trust him. He promised sparks leading up to brilliant fireworks, and after seeing the sincerity in his eyes as he asked if it was okay, she decides this must be one of the sparks he was telling her about. Something wild and exciting and slightly alarming. She does not need to fear the sparks. She just needs to welcome them like any other new occurrence in her life, with determination and courage to learn. A delicate blush dusts her cheeks as she finally musters enough courage to give Eugene a nod. He meets her with a smolder of a smile and a reassuring kiss.

Just feel.

Eugene waits patiently for Rapunzel to get back into the mood before daring to move his hand. He listens for her sounds again, and when they resurface, he begins kneading her breast, fingers just barely grazing over her nipple. It is a delicate touch, and to his delight, Rapunzel seems to love it. She arches into him even more, and it encourages Eugene to kiss her neck even more feverishly.

That’s my girl.

They stay like that for a while, kissing and touching and feeling. Eugene could stay like that forever, truthfully. Rapunzel would not protest one bit either with everything feeling so good. However, as fun as it is to grope and make out, Eugene eventually decides he cannot keep his wife ignorant to the rest of their night forever. He has to move things along if they are ever going to effectively “consummate the marriage,” as is expected of them.

Pulling his lips and hands from her, he leans back and assesses his beautiful girl. Cheeks red, eyes hooded, she looks like a masterpiece. A glorious, albeit slightly tired and disheveled, masterpiece. He gives her a dopey, lovesick grin and proceeds to stand up, holding out his hand to her. She looks at it sheepishly before taking it and allowing him to pull her up to her feet.

“What are we doing now?”

“Well,” Eugene replies, starting to unfasten the buttons to his suit, “not that I want to ruin the moment or anything, because that moment was, let me tell ya, great, but typically when moving forward toward erm, sex,” he gulps, “you go without clothing. It’s more comfortable that way. Besides, I think it’s time we get out of these monkey suits anyway, yeah? I think mine was starting to chafe.”

Rapunzel does not know what to say to that. They only ever kissed clothed back at his bedchamber. What if she did not like being naked in front of him? What if he dislikes what he sees? What if he takes advantage of her, even though she doubts he will? She feels herself begin to shake under the pressure, those questions dawning on her like little bullets to her resolve. As Eugene is about to shed himself of his suit jacket, she remembers something he said before they began and decides it is exactly within her right to bring it up.

“I-I’m uncomfortable.”

She barely squeaks out the words, and upon seeing Eugene stop and turn his head, her own falls. That was it. She spoke too much. She let her worries get to her and now, there is surely no way she will ever get to feel the metaphorical fireworks. It is all her fault. She stays there, anxious, wanting to cry, until she feels his hands on either side of her and sees Eugene’s loving, concerned eyes staring back at her.

“Hey, talk to me,” he whispers, his voice low and worried. “What is making you uncomfortable?”

She chews at her lip, a sniffle breaking through her hardened exterior. “I…I’m scared. I’ve never been…exposed before.”

Eugene brings her in for a deep hug. He lets her take purchase into those safe arms of his and bury, hidden and protected, because he gets it. Of course she would be nervous about getting naked. It is not as if she has ever been naked in front of a man before. Heck, he has even seen through her partition that she gets nervous with maids seeing her that way. Vulnerability is scary. For a girl who was locked up for all but a year and a half of her life, it has to be utterly terrifying, and here he is asking her to simply shrug off such a traumatic event like it is nothing. Eugene mentally slaps himself.

“Blondie, you know I love you,” he soothes, petting the back of her head as nervous tears spill onto his chest. “I know it can be scary, and it’s okay to feel scared. But you need to know that I would never judge you for how you look. I personally think you are the most gorgeous girl I have ever laid eyes on, but even if not, I would never judge. I love you for you. That means all of you. Every nook and cranny and scar and bump. I mean that. Okay?”

Feeling her still gently sobbing against him and hearing no response, Eugene frowns. And then, an idea floats into mind. “Would…would it make you feel better if I stripped down first? It might make it less awkward for you.”

This brings her slightly out from his chest, just enough for her to consider his words.

“You would do that?” Rapunzel asks, blinking back at him through tears.

“Of course,” he affirms, rubbing her back and capturing her lips. “You can even help, if you want.”

Now, this is an idea. It is a good one actually, Rapunzel thinks, because she would feel a lot less worried if she was not the only bare one in the room. Plus, undressing Eugene herself would give her a lot of control over the situation. Control is a good thing. An empowering thing. A comforting feeling that Eugene somehow realized she needed without her even saying anything because he loves her that much.

Releasing herself from his grasp, Rapunzel carefully outstretches her hand to undo the last button on his suit jacket. It pops open easily, and it is barely any trouble for Eugene to shrug off and let her discard to the side. When it comes to a rest after fluttering to the floor, she shifts focus to the next item: his undershirt.

It is a long sleeve, thin white shirt that she had admired him wearing on a riding trip last winter. It has a habit of clinging to his body beautifully, revealing his muscles when he flexes in the most attractive of ways. Admittedly, it has popped up into more than a few of her dreams, though she will never tell. That would be too embarrassing.

That does not mean she will not take pleasure in taking it off. Tentatively, her cheeks flaming as she goes, she inches the famous shirt up from the hem of Eugene’s waistline until it is bunching at his arms. He helps her scoot each arm out of its sleeve and watches her patiently as she pulls it over his head. The sight he is met with as it is discarded makes him smirk.

Rapunzel is staring.

Eugene’s bare chest is stunning. She knew he was fit, and their time spent on that island with Lance and Cassandra had proven in glimpses that it was a sight to behold, but actually observing him up close in person makes her heart race. He just looks so good. So fit and taught and good. She figures he is any and every girl’s dream, and briefly, she considers that perhaps at one time, he was the dream of other women. But, that thought fades away when she catches sight of the scar resting near his liver. Gothel’s scar. The scar that proves with its sheer presence that he would do anything for her – even die. It is then she realizes that he could have slept with millions of girls before her and it would not matter. He may have been their dream, but she is his, forever and always.

Rapunzel curiously places her palm over his heart and lets it run down to where his abs gently protrude from his skin. She lets her thumb graze the edge of the scar as she returns his smirk with a small one of her own.

“Don’t be too prideful, Eugene.”

“Oh I’m not, just admiring your work,” he replies, though she so knows he most definitely is absolutely glowing with pride. He does not throw those smirks around for no reason. Eugene truthfully is just happy to see her somewhat smiling again.

He tries his best to remain calm and maintain his smile as she ventures her hand even lower. He does not wish to alarm her, but his lack of knowledge about her lack of knowledge of the male anatomy is about to stare her in the eye the moment she is done unbuckling his belt, and even though King Frederic assured him she is a smart girl who will learn and adapt, he is painfully worried such a new finding may send her reeling.

Sure enough, as she lets his grey trousers descend to the floor, she gets her first glimpse of him and meets it with wide eyes. His undergarments conceal him still, but she is not unaware of the fact there is a bulge in them she does not have. It is foreign and odd and slightly creepy, but to Eugene’s pride and relief, she does not panic. Instead, her natural curiosity takes autopilot.

“Is…is it okay if I-”

“Go ahead,” he encourages, his voice much lower than before. “You can touch.”

Permission granted, she reaches out and palms his mysterious bulge. It feels warm, and somewhat firm, and it twitches slightly at her touch in a way that sends a thrill through her. Whatever it is, she immediately decides it is one of the more fascinating things she has seen. It becomes even more fascinating when touching it elicits a low moan from Eugene.

She likes that noise a lot.

Bending down, she helps rid Eugene of his boots. Once they are set aside, she dares herself to lace a finger beneath the hem of his undergarments and tug down. Eugene watches with hooded, highly amused eyes as she makes quick work in discarding them in preference of touching and inspecting the bump they had concealed. The way her eyes widen and her hand instinctively reaches out to touch once more sends his mind spiraling.

Her boldness earns her another moan, to her childish delight.

It drives Eugene wild when she touches this foreign body part of his, she learns. He nearly doubles over and gasps when she brings her thumb across and around the underside of the tip, and the sight is mind-blowingly empowering to her. She loves that she can bring her big, strong husband to his knees with something so simple as a touch. It makes her grin. It makes Eugene, on the other hand, terrified.

If she is this good at driving him wild right now, he fears the day she knows how to really push his buttons by heart.

“R-Rapunzel.”

The noise comes out more as a strangled rasp than a gentle call, but Rapunzel gets the message anyway. She looks up and drops him mercifully from her grasp, giving Eugene a chance to finally breathe. When he recovers, he braces himself on the bedpost and pants.

“Did I do something wrong?”

He has to laugh. “No, no you were perfect, believe me. But, I want to make sure we both are comfortable before we do any more exploring, and that requires you to join me, clothingly speaking.” Dropping to a more serious tone, Eugene takes Rapunzel’s hand into his. “Is that okay?”

Rapunzel bites her lip. She’s still nervous beyond belief, but it’s Eugene. It’s her husband who stripped down for her, and they promised earlier to be a team. It is her turn to hold up her end of the bargain, so to speak. She nods, swallowing her fear.

“Okay.”

Eugene smiles. “I promise Blondie, you’ll be a lot happier without this tight thing on you. Here, turn around for me.”

It is far from a fun task to undo a corset-bound dress, and Rapunzel does not envy her husband as he moves to begin the work of taking it off. Her maids had struggled on the garment, and they are skilled experts in clothing. She notes that Eugene, putting up his own fight with the white stripes of fabric, is not. If the mumbled curses are any indication, he is most likely worse.

Okay, so maybe he spends a full ten minutes trying to figure out how to undo the damn thing.

You try and undo one.

Needless to say, once her dress is gone, Eugene feels like a new man. He tosses it well across the room, and had Rapunzel not been distracted by his hand running along her back, she would have laughed at how far his disdain for the thing managed to send it. It nearly flew out the window.

“You must be happy to not have that thing sucking the life out of you, huh Blondie?”

Rapunzel nods, still trained on his roaming hand. “I never realized how brutal it was until it was gone.”

“Well, good news for you,” he says, gripping her hip, voice silky sweet like honey, “you never have to wear that one again. Now, may I help you with this little slip of yours?”

Giggling, Rapunzel nods. “If you can manage.”

Eugene puts his hand to his heart in mock hurt. His face scrunches up, his old sexy act dropped, and turns him into more of a cartoon character than charming prince consort. It makes Rapunzel giggle mercilessly. It is exactly the distraction she needs, because as Eugene lifts away her final barrier to him, she is less focused on how revealed she is and more focused on how her sides hurt, and on how big of a nerd her husband is. He playfully grins, dropping the expression, and shakes his head.

And then, he stares.

He drinks in the sight of her like a parched man stuck in the dessert. Her skin is milky white and smooth, so so smooth. Every curve of her body is perfect, from the slopes of her breasts to her slim hips. Eugene practically feels his body urging him to explore for himself, ready to conquer her like a new adventure. He wonders, licking his lips, how he ever got so lucky to behold someone as perfect all for himself.

“Beautiful.”

Blushing, Rapunzel cocks her head to the side. “Really?”

“Oh yes sunshine,” he affirms, his arms snaking around her waist and bringing her closer. “So beautiful. So perfect.”

“Perfect?”

Nodding, he kisses her tenderly. “Magnificent. And I’m going to make sure you remember it.”

Eugene intends to make good on that promise. Before she can say a word more, he is sweeping her off of her feet and bringing her back to the bedside. Lying her down, he crawls over her. Her senses heighten at the new proximity. It does not help that the way his eyes get lost on her sends her skin aflame. She could choose to panic at this new development, or at the way he starts to move his hips against hers, but she instead goes with it. Mindless delight, she decides, is far better than mindful worrying when with her husband.

Even when he slides down her and inches her legs apart.

Every little touch he places along her legs and inner thigh, every glance sent her way, is accompanied with love that assures Rapunzel it is okay. He makes sure that, when his fingers find their way to her center, she is comfortable and understanding that all is well, this is normal, this is to be expected. It takes a few moments and some handiwork from him, but eventually, she starts to give in and melt into his work.

The little noises make their grand return, and this time, each one is accompanied with its own spark.

Eugene decides to have a little fun. Intoxicated by the sight of his wife and the sound of her moans, he knows this is the one thing he cannot really mess up. It is solely based on Rapunzel’s pleasure, and he feels little anxiety in letting his old Flynn experience take over for a while. Wrapping his arms around her legs, Eugene inches Rapunzel ever so closer to him and, with a deep breath, replaces his fingers with his mouth.

It is a sensation Rapunzel will never forget.

The sensory overload electrifies her. She does not exactly understand why he is doing what he is doing, because why on Earth would someone ever put their mouth there, but she quickly learns she loves it and never wants him to stop. Lucky for her, Eugene never wants to stop. At least, not until she experiences those fireworks he promised.

So, as she mewls and writhes under his grasp, he holds her tight and continues, relentless, eating her out and sending her over the moon. She starts to gasp his name – a lovely sound – and her hands claw at the bedsheets frantically. He really knows he has hit the jackpot when he hears her start to giggle between gasps. That signals she is having fun and enjoying herself, and that is everything he could have hoped for. It spurs him on to be more intense, more unrelenting, more passionate. He hums against her, and she is as good as gone when he accompanies it with his finger rubbing at her most sensitive spot.

The fireworks catch her by surprise.

All at once, her eyes shut and the pressure between her legs snaps. Wave after wave of pleasure hits her, and her voice cracks as she no longer can hold back vocally. Her climax takes Eugene a bit by surprise, too. But, he does not let that stop him. He knows she will be happier if he continues on, and sure enough, as she starts to come down from her high, the feeling of his tongue against her becomes glorious. Even when it tapers away and he moves to kiss her back into reality, the pleasure remains like a phantom. It’s enticing. Glorious.

She wonders how the fireworks could ever grow more bright.

Eugene is determined to show her.

He lets his hands guide down her lean figure as he inches back down her until they once more rest at her thighs. A finger trails along her, letting the fruits of his previous work help prepare it to enter. She may be blissed out, but he did not want to take any chances with slight discomfort. Not yet, at least. He moves it gently inside, his eyes not leaving her face as he does so.

Rapunzel does not seem alarmed. In fact, in her post-orgasmic bliss, she acts rather pleased and even shifts to make his digit go deeper inside. Eugene wonders if she even realizes she is doing this, or if her instincts have put her back on autopilot. Nevertheless, he gives her what she wants.

He continues to work his finger it in and out as she responds, letting her get used to the feeling. Before long, the time comes to add another. This other finger’s friction brings Rapunzel slightly out of her haze, and she displays a twinge of discomfort. Knowing that is not want he wants to see, Eugene stills and rubs her thigh.

“You okay?”

Rapunzel chews at her lip “That um…that doesn’t feel as nice as what you did before.”

Nodding, he leans down and presses a kiss to her abdomen. “I’m sorry. It might feel a little, er, tight at first, but trust me, it’ll feel better in time. Just breathe, Blondie.”

Breathing. Okay, Rapunzel can do that. She listens and tries to focus on her breathing as he reenters. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. Truthfully, it does help. It gives her something else to think about whenever that non-pleasant feeling comes along. A distraction.

The non-pleasant feeling thankfully goes away for a while, replaced with whatever wonderful sensation Eugene creates by curling his fingers just so. Rapunzel cannot help but gasp at the electricity it brings her. She grows so caught up in the feeling that she barely even notices when he adds a third.

Everything comes to a halt, however, when Eugene decides the time has finally come to replace those fingers with something more substantial.

“Sunshine,” he calls, pulling his fingers away from her to the tune of a small whimper, “I have a question for you.”

“What is it, Eugene?”

“Do you…do you want kids any time soon?”

Rapunzel blinks, confused. “Kids? I…I suppose not soon soon. Maybe after a year or so. Why? What does this have to do with sex?”

Oh, his sweet, innocent wife.

“Because,” he explains, kissing her knee, “after tonight, if we don’t want them, there’s a special herbal tea that you’re going to have to ask your mom to teach you to make tomorrow morning.”

“Why?”

“Sex is how babies are made, Rapunzel. Drinking the tea will prevent that.”

“Oh.”

That says it all.

Upon seeing her face, Eugene moves forward to kiss Rapunzel. This more passionate kiss clouds over all thoughts of babies and any fear associated with them. They stay like that for a few minutes, just kissing and feeling each other, until Eugene pulls away and nudges Rapunzel’s legs open again. His heart races as her eyes meet his, but he knows he cannot put off this moment any longer. This is it, Fitzherbert. Don’t fuck it up.

“Rapunzel, sweetheart,” he beckons, clearing his throat, “I need you to trust me here. I don’t want to hurt you, but…but I need you to understand that I might.”

“Eugene, what do you mean? You’re scaring me.”

There you go, fucking it up.

“I’m going to try to enter you now, and that can hurt,” he says softly, pausing to wipe her hair out of her eyes and let her process the thought. She does not look too enthused, but she encourages him to go on. Eugene figures she might just want to get it over with. He does not blame her. “Just breathe like I taught you if you feel any pain, and don’t be afraid to tell me to stop. I promise I’ll make it feel better. Okay?”

Agreeing feels like selling her soul, but Eugene has made good on all of his other promises. Why would he suddenly decide not to with this one? Sure, whatever he is going to do might hurt, but he also said he will turn that pain into something better. What if that leads to fireworks again? She has to at least try and see.

With a nod, she places her heart and body in his hands.

Eugene breathes deeply in and out before adjusting where they lay. Rapunzel’s legs situated on either side of him, he grabs himself with a shaky hand and positions himself at her entrance. She looks so vulnerable like this. He almost feels bad for stealing her virginity, gazing down at her. The thing is though, he isn’t stealing it. She is allowing him to take it as a token of her love, and that makes it all okay. That is what will make it okay when he enters. It will be okay, he tells himself. Placing a hand on her hip, he moves forward and does so.

He does not miss the sharp intake of air from Rapunzel. She does not exactly look in pain, but she hardly looks comfortable at his entrance. He has half a mind to stop and ask if she is okay, but he can see right before she shuts her eyes that she wants this feeling to be over quick. He knows if he delays the inevitable, she might feel worse. So, he goes in until he cannot go further. Only then does he stop to assess his princess.

On the bright side, she is not in agony. Her brows are knit together and her teeth look gritted, but she is not experiencing the pain he feared. She just looks uncomfortable. Unsure. Wondering if this is meant to be, or if she should be telling him something is wrong. Bringing her hand into his, he gently squeezes it and watches her face for any change. It is not much, but she at least relaxes her jaw.

“Remember what I said, sunshine,” he soothes, voice barely above a whisper. “Breathe. When you are ready for me to move, let me know.”

Rapunzel tries to remember what it feels like to breathe. Eugene’s thing is causing an intense pressure that won’t go away, and any breath she takes feels like the final straw that turns that pressure into pain. It is a struggle to breathe. But, this is Eugene, and he would not willingly hurt or lie to her. If he says breathing will help that pressure ease itself, then she is going to try her best to breathe.

A few minutes of breathing and kisses pressed to her skin pass, and it seems like they will never stop. But, eventually, Rapunzel shifts to bring Eugene in deeper. It hurts a bit more, but the pressure is more dull and manageable. She can do this, she realizes. It might take a bit, but she can do this.

Eugene watches her with wonder as she spreads her legs a bit further and reaches to bring him closer. He can only comply, because his mind, like hers had earlier, switched to autopilot the moment he felt himself even deeper inside. Who does he even thank for that kind of gift? She’s such a blessing sometimes, even when she does not know it. After an intense kiss that leaves Eugene’s head swimming, Rapunzel whispers for him to move. Hesitantly yet obediently, he grants her plea.

Both of them moan on his first thrust.

For Rapunzel, she moans because of the tiny pinch that remains and the sudden pleasure the friction builds in her stomach. For Eugene, he moans because of how tight and warm and amazing Rapunzel feels. God, how good it feels to be inside her. He had fantasized about this feeling for months, but actually feeling her around him and seeing her feel the first few inklings of pleasure? It is beyond his wildest dreams. He wastes little time in thrusting again, and again, and even more once Rapunzel starts to adjust. Before long, they fall into a rhythm all their own.

Between the kisses and the movements, Eugene and Rapunzel start to shift their focus on each other. Rapunzel finds her mind lost to the way Eugene’s muscles flex in the moonlight and how intense he looks when he is taken off guard by his own pleasure. She revels in the way his hair falls in his face and his breaths every now and then blossom into haughty moans. Her body focuses on how every one of his thrusts is like a brilliant gasp of light, taking her mind elsewhere and revealing to her what true passion and sensation really feel like. If this is what he had been whining about having to restrain himself from for all these months, she finally understands just why he had been so distraught. She could not fathom depriving him of such happiness and contentment if given a second chance. It would be borderline cruel, she thinks.

Eugene, on the other hand, finds himself thinking about more sexual topics. His mind lingers on past positions he had tried with other women and if Rapunzel, in her beautifully languid and eager state, would mind him if he dared to have them try one. He notices her hair falling in her face and wonders if now is a better time to try to weave his hand through the locks and tug to show her his intense feelings for her. He hears her gasping and moaning and wonders if he could make them louder and more sharp if he quickened or shifted just so. They are all carnal thoughts, but Eugene has been waiting too long for this to not enjoy the fruits of his uninhibited night. His nightmares did not come true, and frankly? He deserved to celebrate by rocking his new wife’s world.

Rapunzel’s hand caressed his cheek.

“I-I love you.”

“I love you so much, Blondie,” he gasps, not even caring about asking as he wraps his arm around her thigh and raises it for better access. Rapunzel gasps, but it is a good gasp. A how-did-this-get-even-better gasp. Eugene moans back his approval.

“D-Don’t stop.”

“I have no intentions to.”

“Good,” Rapunzel gasps back. Her heart races as she sees Eugene throw his head back, exposing his strong neck to her. She can practically see his pulse and the fierceness of his body, and it thrills her. She does not know what takes over her, but she decides right then and there that the next time she gets a chance, she is going to ravish that neck in the same way Eugene had ravished hers.

Conversational silence takes over once more as the two focus on their senses. Rapunzel lets go of all intentions of staying quiet, which spurns her to moan and squeal much to the delight of Eugene. He takes her vocality and thrusts harder against her, months of pent-up emotion and need finally being satisfied. He thinks about her in her wedding dress and about how she is his forever more, and his heart swells enough to make him choke out a sob. Rapunzel does not catch it, too caught up in her own feelings, but it nevertheless shifts Eugene’s focus to her. He shifts to lean down closer to her and captures her lips into his. His movements begin again slow, but soon, an almost animalistic feeling possesses him and makes him chase his climax. Rapunzel grazes her fingers across his back and holds on for the ride.

Eugene knows from the fire in his abdomen that he can only continue on like this a little more. He finds comfort in the fact that he now has free rein to do this whenever he wants with Rapunzel, but he gets a little sad to know their first time is coming to an end. That sadness, he figures, is what he needs to motivate him to have this first time end on a high note – not only for him, but also for Rapunzel. Especially for Rapunzel.

His hand leaves her and trails down instead below her waistline. He wastes no time in rubbing her, causing Rapunzel to squeal and gasp. It is a sensory overload, but by the way she starts to shake a bit around him, he knows it is the overload she needed to get to where he was. A necessary evil, if you will. Biting his lip hard, he quickens his pace ever faster and growls. The noise sounds so animalistic, it sends a shiver through Rapunzel. She recaptures his lips and moans into them her own version of the noise. It is sweet music to his ears, and it also brings Eugene to his breaking point.

Moaning loudly, Eugene gives a few more thrusts before he can do no more. His eyes squeeze shut and his heart thumps loudly in his ears as his body releases and sends shockwaves throughout his every limb. It takes only a few seconds more of his hand on her for Rapunzel to join Eugene in bliss, her body shaking around him as moans of her own fill the air. She cannot help but say his name like a prayer as she comes down from her high, and he feels like a God at the sound. Chuckling, he wipes her hair from her face.

“God, I love you.”

Rapunzel, still blissed out, can only muster a small thumbs up back at him, and that makes Eugene��s laugh even merrier. Rolling so he can be on top of her, he gives one more languid thrust into her before pulling out and wrapping her into his arms. He kisses her nose, forever amazed by his beautiful bride.

“I have a secret for you, Mrs. Fitzherbert,” he whispers, reaching around to nip at her ear. “We get to do that as many times as we want now. As hard as we want. Do you like that?”

She releases some sort of mixture between a breathless sigh and a moan. “’m lucky. So lucky.”

Eugene kisses her sweetly. “Yes you are. As am I. As we will be, from now on. Don’t you forget that.”

“Never.”

Smiling, he pulls out of her and falls to the side. Her eyes are falling shut, and though he knows he has to get up and clean himself up along with her, he cannot bring himself to leave her bedside or force her to move. All he can do is watch and admire his wife’s content little face as she falls deep into a hopefully wonderful new dream, satisfied and aware of how much she is loved. It is in that moment he wonders just why he had been dreading this night so feverishly earlier. With a girl like Rapunzel at his side, he never has anything to worry about. No fear is a match for her strength and tenderness.

Nuzzling his head on top of hers, Eugene sighs and lets his own eyes flutter shut.

“Goodnight, my darling. And thank you.”

#tangled #Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure #tangled fanfic #tangled fanfiction #New Dream #fanfiction #fanfic #disney fanfic #tangled the series #eugene fitzherbert #Rapunzel

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meditatemoremedicateless · 8 years

Text

Help!: My Girlfriend is Cute and Popular

Prompt: Victoria can't seem to do anything mean when Max is around, and it begins to affect everyone's perception of her as Queen Bee ... I may have gone a little off-prompt for Wardfield fluff I’m sorry.

Part 3: “A Trick, a Treat”

Things had been super weird since their talk in the photography room. Once Victoria dropped her bullshit, she fell apart for a few minutes to confess what Max guessed resembled the truth. Victoria liked her. She wanted to take responsibility for her own feelings and get over it. Max thought that was very mature.

And, well, it was starting to make things weird. Victoria was obviously uncomfortable with Max (and, apparently, Dana) knowing. At the very least, she was uncomfortable with the risk of exposure for her dirty little secret, because she’s stopped being mean to Max and Dana around campus.

Almost.

It seemed like Victoria was stuck in her old cycle, and it always took her a second to realize how the scales had changed. More than once in photography Victoria had turned to Max after she’d given an incorrect or dismissive answer, only to freeze, stare at Max awkwardly for a moment, and look away.

Well, from what Max could tell, it was an improvement, and nobody really seemed to notice. Not until Victoria approached while she was talking to Kate.

It was the normal gang: Vic, Taylor, and Courtney, emerging from the main classroom hall’s girls’ bathroom while Max and Kate talked in front of the trophy case. As they passed by, Victoria let out a, “Hey losers,” not even pausing to create a formidable wall.

Except, unlike normal, Max replied, “Oh hey Vic.” And that made her stop in her tracks, Taylor and Courtney taking a step ahead before they realized she’d stopped, and they all pivoted to look back at Max. Courtney put on a glare for Max and Kate’s sake, but Taylor just looked at Victoria, unimpressed.

“Oh.” Victoria said, as if she suddenly realized who she was talking to. “Right. Sorry.” And though Courtney and Taylor visibly recoiled from the unexpected apology, Victoria just turned again and kept walking.

“What was that about?” Kate asked as she turned back towards Max, brushing some of the renegade strands of her hair behind her ear.

“I have no idea,” Max lied. If Kate didn’t believe it, she made no sign of it, and those two continued on.

Unfortunately, those five hadn’t been alone in the hallway. Victoria had tread on treacherous ground, and she’d slipped. At the other corner of the intersection, Brooke and Juliet stood discussing something over Brooke’s tablet, though their focus evaporated as soon as Max called back to Victoria. Victoria and her posse hadn’t noticed them, and Max didn’t even recognize the danger of them being there until later.

“Later” being that night, when Max was laying off the edge of Dana’s bed, scrolling through her phone while Dana sat far more comfortably against the wall, answering messages on her Facebook. Max had no way of knowing that one whip! from Messenger was any different, not until Dana spoke up.

“So, Juliet wants to know what you did to make Victoria scared of you,” Dana said, looking up from her computer, pausing her continuous clacking.

“What?” Max asked, unwilling to put in the effort to push her torso back onto the bed.

“I’m not sure, that’s all she said.” A brief pause. “Here, let me ask.”

Dana typed so fast it was scary, leaving more lull than typing when she was focusing on a conversation. Maybe a minute later, though, and she said, “Apparently, you and Victoria had a confrontation in the hall today, and you leered her down and she backed off. Apparently the school’s abuzz that you neutered her. What happened?”

“Oh,” Max replied, “nothing.”

“Eh?” Dana asked, apparently unconvinced.

Finally, Max tossed her phone onto the bed and pushed herself up cross-legged. Dana’s hair was down again, a messy flop only too thin and long to call a bowl cut. Max couldn’t quite put her finger quite on why, but the way Dana’s appearance fluctuated so much throughout the day - clean and neat before practice, made-up and warm afterwards, fluffy and messy in her pajamas before bed - appealed to her a lot. She wasn’t sure whether it was the consistency or the variation, but it made Dana . . . fun to look at.

Max scratched the back of her head, her recent undercut having left her itchy all the time. “No, I mean like, literally nothing. I think she was going to be rude, but then she just apologized and left.”

Max didn’t quite expect Dana’s giggle, the way she covered her mouth and closed her eyes as she did. It was more reserved than normal, but also . . . to something Max didn’t quite read as funny.

“Uh . . . what?” Max asked.

Dana waved away the question, although she answered, “Oh, god, nothing. I just didn’t think my threat would work so well.”

“Wait, wait, hold up.” Max scooted herself across the comforter, sitting knee-to-knee with Dana, the laptop between them. “Threat? When did you threaten Victoria? Why?”

“Ugh, I dunno, like a week ago? Or . . . last Monday, I think?”

“Why?”

“Well, I mean. She’d been following you around a little and taking pictures.”

Max blinked. “She what?”

Dana cocked her head to the side. “Oh. I thought she would have mentioned that when you two talked. Yeah. I told her to chill out, tell you how she felt, and then leave us alone.”

“Wait, so . . .” Max paused, trying to significantly reorganize the past week or so in her head. “Wait. So did she write that letter because of you?”

Dana’s answer came slowly. Her eyes darted away from Max towards the door, and she raised a hand away from her keyboard to rest on her cheek, smooshing her face a little (a lot). Her answer came quietly, too. “Maybe.”

Silence.

Max reached out for Dana’s upright arm and pinched her.

“Ow!” Dana whined, recoiling.

“You knew somebody liked me and you didn’t tell me? You . . . you goblin!” Max reached to pinch her again, but this time Dana only caught her hand, bringing her fingers close enough to kiss. Which she did, of course, in an attempt to quell Max’s righteous fury. It worked, even if Max kept making pinching gestures in the air after she’d given up.

“Yeah, I did.”

Max finally gave up her pinching entirely, settling instead for an exaggerated pout before plummeting down on the bed.

“But Daaaannnnyyyyy,” she whined. “Crushes are so fun and cute and I didn’t know about Victoria until it got weird.”

Dana managed to snort and smirk at the same time, closing her laptop and sliding it off her lap. She waddled on her knees over to Max and climbed on top of her, folding her arms as if she had something to be stubborn about.

“Well I’m sooorrryyy that you’re just soooo popular. I got you a cute-ass confession letter instead of just lamely telling you so, you know what?” Dana started to poke Max’s sides, which were so ticklish that she immediately began to squirm, futilely attempting to bat Dana’s hands away as she started to giggle. That put a smile on Dana’s smile, even as she pinched her face to show how serious she was about her tickle dominance. “Be grateful you little punk.”

“Okay okay okay okay okaaayyyy,” Max said, finally managing to free her body enough from the prison of Dana’s legs to grab ahold of Dana’s wrists, ending her torture. The side of her face squished in thought while she shrugged. “I mean, it was pretty cute. You haven’t written me any love letters.”

“Oh yeah?” Dana leaned down, relying on Max to support her what with the constrained wrists, bringing her into a deep kiss. Max let go of her wrists quickly in favor of her waist, and Dana brought a hand up to Max’s cheek, feeling the movement of her jaw under her thumb.

When they broke, Max’s breath was perhaps a little more ragged than it ought to be. It was so easy to get her excited.

“Okay, fair,” Max said, convinced that that settled everything.

Dana returned upright, though her hands fell to Max’s belly instead of across her chest. “Besides, I only messed with her because she was acting weird. Normally, if someone likes you, I just go on with my day, but with her-”

“Wai wai wai wait. Normally?”

“Yeah.”

“Who else likes me? How do you even know this?”

“Question 2: being friends with Juliet fine-tunes your gossip monitor. Question 1: Warren, duh, and Justin. I’m pretty sure.” Dana looked around the room for half a second before adding, “Plus, Justin like, told me. Before he realized I’d swooped you.”

“No way.”

Dana leaned down, pecking Max’s nose before bobbing back up. “Way.”

Max shook her head, but then looked up dead into Dana’s eyes. “No, I mean, do you know what this means?”

Dana tilted her head to the side, even if it just got her hair somehow more in her face.

Max raised up her hand to start counting on her fingers, though “1″ started with a pointer finger jab at Dana: “A hot jock. A geek. A stoner skater anarchist dude. And the Queen Bee.” After she hit four, Max opened up both hands, wide like her eyes. “Babe, I’m universally popular. I’m like one or two short of a harem. I’m-”

“Oh no,” Dana interjected, cupping her hands over her mouth in horror. “I’m dating a anime protagonist.”

Max figured that this was probably not the appropriate moment to mention that she had time powers. Instead, she just laughed awkwardly. “Y-yeah, you sure are.”

Dana shook her head, wiping her hands under her eyes as if weeping. “I think that means I’m gonna die.”

Now it was Max’s turn to snort. The comparison brought on a surge of ego and confidence, however, and Max grabbed Dana’s waist, flipping them over so that Max now sat on top.

“Don’t worry,” she said, pulling up Dana’s shirt and lowering herself to kiss her belly. “I think it’s more of a ‘cheap thrills’ sort of show.”

Dana giggled at first, slipping into a satisfied smile as the tickling sensation gave way to more tender kissing. “I’m all right with that.”

#life is strange #fan fiction #ficlet #everyone is safe and happy #wardfield #ben does prompts #dana ward #max caulfield #victoria chase #ben writes stuff #melonishus

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