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Fic: Any Other Princess - Tangled, Eugene/Rapunzel, NC-17

Nev

nevcolleil: writer



Oscar Wilde said: "To most of us the real life is the life we do not lead." This is my 'real life' via LJ.

Fic: Any Other Princess - Tangled, Eugene/Rapunzel, NC-17

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tangled: rapunzel/flynn: wtf
Title: Any Other Princess
Fandom: Tangled
Pairings: Eugene (Flynn)/Rapunzel
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Any other princess would watch her words in front of a gentleman. (But then, he's not much of a gentleman, is he?)



"Sometimes I wish that you and I could switch places, just for a day...," she says, out of nowhere.

"I don't know... That dress would probably look terrible on me," he responds, making her giggle. Her somber face discarded, Rapunzel seems content to leave it at that, but Eugene's too curious to do the same.

"Why do you wish that we could switch places for a day, sweetie?"

She answers in typical Blondie style. With a candor and a strangeness that makes him wonder whether he should laugh or groan or maybe look for a frying pan hidden under the folds of her skirt.

(Not that Eugene needs an excuse to get up under those skirts, these days. But I digress.)

"I wish I could know what it's like to make love to a woman the way that you do. Always having to be so gentle... So careful not to hurt her because she's so much smaller than you."

Eugene nearly swallows his tongue.

"Uh... Well. If you'd like to find out, I'm sure that there must be some lonely young lady among your subjects who we could-"

"Eugene!" Rapunzel laughs and thwacks him on the arm, tossing her skirts around her so that she can throw a leg over Eugene's middle, cuddling close. "Stop those naughty thoughts! That's not what I mean."

"Oh," Eugene says, regaining a little moisture in his throat. It's easy not to feel disappointed with his Blondie pressed so intimately against him, the silk of her stockings touching the naked flesh of his stomach where his shirt has ridden up, tickling the fine hairs that begin to grow dark just there.

Rapunzel is lying with her head propped up on one hand, looking down at him, so that the sun forms a halo around the crown of her dark, shiny hair. There's a blade of grass poking out of the dishevelled strands, near her ear. Eugene's never had the heart to tell her that it couldn't possibly be appropriate for a princess to behave this way, even with her husband, out in the gardens, where just about anyone in the kingdom could happen upon them. And he's not going to start now.

"I mean," Rapunzel continues, recapturing Eugene's attention. "It must be frustrating for you, always having to watch your strength so you don't mark me. Always moving so precisely inside of me so that I'm not sore when you're done..."

This is... not an appropriate conversation to be having outside, princess or no princess. Eugene's only saving grace is that his princess is behaving inappropriately, lying like this, her skirts covering the area of his breeches that are no doubt tenting now as Rapunzel speaks so brazenly.

"Sweetheart-"

"I mean, I'd just like to be you so I can know for sure. I hate to think that we're making all of this love now and you aren't enjoying yourself as much as I am because you've been holding so much back!"

Blondie is really getting excited about this, and the fire in her eyes isn't helping Eugene's sudden condition any.

"Rapunzel-"

"Don't get me wrong, I know that you enjoy yourself," she goes on, as if unaware of his plight. "You make the most amazing faces right before you release yourself inside of me."

"Oh sweet lord."

Don't grab yourself. Don't grabyourself. Don'tgrabyourself, Eugene's brain screams.

"But it wouldn't hurt you to hurt me just a little bit, would it, honey?"

"Rapunzel!" What a horrible thing for her to suggest! What a horrible thing for him to think about! Tossing her about instead of gently lifting her into their bed before lovemaking... Throwing himself into the pursuit of his own pleasure with no concern for whether he is moving too fast, holding her too tight-

"I don't mean you'd have to really hurt me, Eugene," Rapunzel soothes. "But sometimes some of the chambermaids have these funny little bruises on their wrists... or even their neck! And they giggle when I ask about them. They say they get them from lovemaking, and if they can laugh about them like that, then surely it can't feel so terrible when they get them."

"Rapunzel, those aren't-"

"And Marta," she persists, mentioning her lady in waiting (Eugene is going to have to see that these women get a talking to from the Queen...) "She can never sit down the day after she and her husband have had a good- What does she call it?"

Eugene doesn't think he can stand hearing it from Rapunzel's lips. "Blondie, do you want me to treat you like a chambermaid?" he asks, willing this conversation to end.

Perhaps if Rapunzel were any other princess it would. She would back pedal, and disclaim such scandalous thoughts, especially in front of a gentleman.

But then, if Eugene were a gentleman... the hand hidden by his wife's skirts wouldn't be inching right now towards his crotch.

"Sometimes," Rapunzel says plainly, not a trace of shame or guile in her tone. And then, the twinkle in her eye and the curve of her lips giving her away at last, she leans in close and whispers, as if anyone were around to hear. "Sometimes I want my own funny little bruises to press on and think of you and the last time you took me to bed."

Eugene squeezes the hot proof of how her words have moved him, but it isn't enough.

Eugene flips them, tucking Rapunzel's slender body beneath his, lying more heavily upon her than he would usually. He wraps his wide fingers around her tiny wrists and presses their lower bodies together in a mimicry of what he would be doing to her right now if no clothing were between them.

"Oh!" Rapunzel gasps.

"Is this more to your liking, my little chambermaid?" he asks her, voice sweeter than their positions would suggest. He really hopes that Max doesn't happen across them and stomp him to death in a misunderstanding.

"Oh, Eugene..." Obviously, Blondie's decided that this is to her liking. "Harder."

Eugene's hips jerk almost of their own volition. And like a boy's, his control is suddenly snapped. He begins to rut against his wife as if she were less than just a chambermaid, driving her body back against the grass and the mud beneath, making an absolute mess of them both.

The most embarassing noises are coming out of his mouth... grunts and groans that are barely human, and his princess is staring at him with impossibly wide eyes, her every breath either a moan or a whimper.

When she begins to squirm beneath him, Eugene fears that she is trying to push him away, but before he can panic at the thought of what he's just done, he realizes. Rapunzel is trying to hike up her skirts with her hands still trapped in his (no doubt bruising just as brightly as she'd asked). "Touch me, Eugene. Oh, sweetie, please, please, please touch me..."

Eugene would like to, but his body has reached its limit. He comes with a shout, right there on top of his wife in her parents' gardens, in his breeches like an inexperienced youth. His hands tighten reflexively and Rapunzel squeals and giggles all at once.

Eugene knows that sound. He can only stare at his beloved in wonder as he struggles for breath and she, likewise, pants.

"Blondie, did you-"

"Uh-uh. Get up! Let's go inside and do that again!"

Even now that she's put away her frying pans, this girl is still trying to kill him!

But Eugene nods and smiles.

These days, he doesn't mind.

[End.]
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