A/N: I just want to write this story for the rest of my life. I love Lance Tucker man. I really truly do.
Word Count: 3k
Warnings: Cursing. Fluff. A mild moment of triggering body insecurity. Lance Tuckery(hah).
Summary: Lance Tucker has come back to his hometown with his ego bruised and his look on life more tainted then ever. When he runs into Y/N; a vibrant plus size woman he went to high school with at her bakery ‘Cake Faced’, he leaves the shop with the taste of sugar on his lips and a hunger that has nothing to do with the cupcakes.
Your pretty sure your dating Lance Tucker.
There’s a thought you never imagined would cross your mind. It feels alien just thinking it, but it was your reality. The last few weeks had been some kind of hazy day dream, full of intense touches and hot kisses and conversations that lasted for hours. You really couldn’t believe that it was even happening.
I do not suggest reading this unless you have read Tower of Dawn
This fic is in the tog universe but it is different from Aelin’s plot line. Nesryn grew up in Balruhn, her mother is a descendant of the rukhin, and the valg started in an eastern continent instead of the northern or Wendlyn.
My new fic series! It will be at least ten chapters so I hope you like it!
Nesryn Faliq adjusts the bow string across her chest, annoyed. She is deeply grateful for the cool breeze wafting through the warehouse’s shattered windows or she’s not sure she would be able to move in this stifling heat. The rest of the attendees wear slightly grimy shortened skirts with sleeveless tops, or combat trousers that wick away sweat. Her competitor has even forgone a shirt altogether, presenting his scars and battle-trained muscles for the whole warehouse to see.
Nesryn, on the other hand, is close to heat stroke in her knee-high boots, men’s tunic, and wool cape. Next time someone challenges her in the summer, she must find a way to let air in through the hood, as it allows no breeze whatsoever to grace her sweat-slicked neck. The disguise is a necessity, but that doesn’t mean that she finds it any less infuriating.
The person who arranged this archery competition in the slums – a guard she has noticed several times roaming the streets and a usually respectable man – is going through the rules. She’s heard them plenty times before: stay behind the designated line, shoot only when the whistle sounds, use only three arrows, and walk away from this place in peace, no matter the outcome. The last one is a precaution that is often ignored or forgotten. Luckily, Nesryn always finds her way out of the vicinity before any real brawling begins.
When they have both nodded their agreement to the rules, her competitor steps up to the first white line. The warehouse is large, at least two hundred meters long, and with the spectators lined up against the back wall, it allows for three varying lengths of shot. Three targets are positioned along the opposite side, each with five rings of colors leading to the black dot in the center of the yellow bullseye.
Barbara smiles at you. “It’s gorgeous. Where’d you get it?”
You smile back. “I wore it on stage.”
“So the mysterious Mrs. Wayne has a secret past?”
You laugh. “It’s not that secret. You can find everything on the internet. I was a ballerina.”
“What made you quit?”
“A car crash and four surgeries. I met Bruce shortly after that. He was in rehab too, for something or another. He was already Batman at that point, but it was very early on his career. We hit it off, after that. I lost my dance career, but I gained Bruce.”
Barbara smiles and turns towards the mirror. It’s black and sleeveless, with a fitted top, and a long, tulle skirt. “Thanks again.”
You nod and watch her leave. You wait a moment before walking out of the old attic. You find Bruce walking down the hall, and he stops at the sight of you. “Did I just see Barbara walking down the hallway with your old dress?”
You smirk. “Thinking about trading me in for a younger model?”
He scoffs, “I’m old enough to be her father. Don’t be ridiculous.”
You kiss him. “She and Dick needed it for some sort of mission, or party or something like that.”
“Hmm. You were wearing that dress when we met.”
You nod. “I was trying to go into pointe, had donned the dress and everything. I was refusing to let it go. You come in, and stopped me from setting myself back several months of physical therapy. You held me while I cried.”
Bruce pushes a strand of hair back behind your ear. “You were in the process of losing your life’s ambition. But you were so determined. They didn’t even think you’d walk again, but you proved them wrong. My strong girl.” You just kiss him, and begin leading him back to the bedroom.
You’re woken up at three in the morning by the boys with one question. “You used to be a ballerina?”
This may not be a big deal to anyone other than myself. But on friday I went to a concert in a sleeveless top. (AND I WAS IN ALL WHITE MINUS THE KHAKI JS.) I have never in my life even gone out to my backyard with family at my house in a sleeveless shirt. I may not be fit just yet but heres a big round of applause for my new self confidence. It’s not all about being skinny, it’s about gaining respect, self confidence, and a healthier lifestyle.