#sam will never have to go to another gala

[tanglepelt]

Dc x dp idea 14

I always pictured Danny as liking galas. Not cause he enjoys the atmosphere but because he can cause subtle chaos. Then one time it’s not subtle at all.

Jack forces Danny to go events with Vlad. Danny just makes subtle remarks to Vlads peers about his bad practices.

Hinting towards how his wealth was massed odly and suddenly. Pointing out things that just went missing and suddenly one day Vlad just had. Overall each event he goes to Vlad looks worse and worse.

Danny has hinted to him being forced to be at event. That he doesn’t like being called little badger. He’s also getting the inside scope on new tech and ideas by playing dumb. Tucker is taking advantage of the inside info.

So there is a huge gala going to happen in Gotham. The masons and vlad are both going to be in attendance. Obviously this means Danny is getting forced into it same as Sam.

Now sam openly causes problems at the gala. Like standing on a table screaming about animal rights or something. She’s an activist she would so do it. Just imagine Damian joining in. He doesn’t like the galas either after all.

Both sam and danny snuck in reporters. Danny did it to ensure sam would never have to go to another gala. He could use them for his fun as well.

Dick is on a chandelier now to add more chaos. Jason is having the time of his life watching it all unfold.

So Danny just “unknowingly” talking to the reporters about vlad. He also starts talking about the masons. Vlad got distracted talking to another rich person he was planning to rob.

Tim assumes Danny doesn’t know he’s talking bad mouthing ti reporters and goes up to him. Danny is just like dude let me trash talk the fruitloop. When Tim subtle pulls him off to the side.

Danny “accidentally” reveals that vlad is trying to kill his father, marry his mom and adopt him. He is so used to people not believing him why would this rando.

So on top of making a gala a madhouse now the bats are investigating Vlad. Not that Danny realizes until the bats show up in amity.

[bambikisss]

My girl :: C.San

BAMBIKISSS MAN OF THE YEAR WINNER : CHOI SAN

'Why would I make you one of my girls when you're my girl?'

📙: San always seemed to have a rotation of women around him at all times. He would attend various charity events with any women from the company he chose. If you were picked, you were labeled as one of San's girls. However, when you join his company, he knows that he no longer needs the others when he has you

⚠ : Talk about San's playboy past, unprotected sex, mentions of workplace annoyances

💕 : Unprotected sex (again, you should always wrap it up), sex in public locations, taking pictures, taking videos, other's listening, use of bondage (reader), oral (both receiving), biting, spitting, Choi San (yes, his own warning)

🎶: One of the girls - THE IDOL, House of Balloons - The Weekend (first part only), Candlelight - Sam Rui ft Grazy Grace, Language - Jiselle, It's you - Choi San, Jung Wooyoung, Kang Yeosang

Bambi's notes: Hello my loves! I bring you Choi San like I've probably never written him before. Shout out to all the Wesslys out there, I'm sorry 💀 B/N = Best Friend's name.

🤍 TAGLIST:

@lovely-red2 @aloverga @megseungmin @sann1e @yunhowooyo @unlikelysublimekryptonite @jaehyunicecream @cosmic-w0lf

@duztbunni @legendarybatherringmonger @kurom2nsan @8xbygirl

@teez-the-time @atzz8 @chaotic-floral @dinossaurz @idfkeddieishot @vvnnn7 @vantediary @hschg69 Z@jennylychee

@dawn-iscozy @sunnyhokyu @sanhwalvr @staytiny816

@chillyambrrrr @acciocriativity

COMMENTS + REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED AND ENCOURAGED | ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY | buy me a coffee?

"Good evening, Y/N. I hope you have fun at the 20th Metropolitan Hospital Gala."

You thanked the valet, placing your car keys into the palm of the young man's hand before you began to make your way inside the seaside venue. You could feel the passerby's stares as you made your way to the bar, your own aura drawing everyone in. You didn't mind, though. But, this event was strictly business and not just a drink during a night out.

"A glass of red wine, please," you ordered, the female bartender immediately nodding before going to grab you your wine and a glass. You took the opportunity to look around the packed room, looking at the various women's dresses and how they all seemed to match their partner's ties and suits. You found it cute and smart; it was a silent way of telling everyone that the woman was taken and to not try anything. You gazed down at your own silk white dress that hugged you perfectly. Your date tonight ordered it to be tailored to fit you just right, making you feel like a goddess. You gently raised your wine glass to your lips as you scanned the room, looking at the fancy decor that surrounded the venue, showing off the wealth everyone in the room had.

Your eyes soon then fell on a group of men who hung by the double doors, as if they were bodyguards to a celebrity. You noticed the various patterns on their ties, remembering that none of the women who were in the event wore anything to match them. 'They must be here without a date' you thought, taking another sip of your wine as you decided to move your eyes away from the group before they got any ideas. This was a business event, not speed dating.

However, one of the guys decided to try his luck anyway, approaching you wearing a blue and red striped tie and a confident smirk on his lips. He stood next to you at the bar, looking around the room with you in silence for a moment before saying "What's a pretty woman like you doing all alone like this?"

Of course that was the first thing that came out of his mouth. "What, can't a woman enjoy some wine and look around by herself?" You asked, choosing to entertain him until your date arrived. It gave you something to do rather than people-watch. The blue and red striped tie man scoffs, moving closer to you as he says "Not a woman like you. Don't tell me a woman of your beauty came here all alone. You know, I think that I'd-"

"Ah, thank you for keeping my date company, Wessly." You turned to see your date approaching you now, his black hair styled perfectly to show off his strong face and piercing eyes. He wore a tailored suit that shaped his Dorito-like upper body perfectly, even highlighting his muscles. He adjusted his white tie that matched yours perfectly before placing his hand on the small of your back, offering a now embarrassed and annoyed Wessly one of his charming smiles. That same smile that had women on their knees and had made him the billionaire and CEO he was now.

"Come on, San, you really can't let me talk to her? You always stroll into charity events with different women, surely you don't mind letting me get to know one." You didn't miss the mixture of annoyance and embarrassment that coated Wessly's words, only making San chuckle, shaking his head as he stepped closer to the other man, towering over him with his height. San's face may have shown that he was still smiling, but his eyes showed his true feelings: leave her alone and stay out of my business. "Oh, Wessly, always trying to make comments on other people's lives. You know, instead of becoming a failing interior designer, you should've became a private investigator with how much you seem to love talking about my personal life. Oh well, maybe next time."

You watched as Wessly dropped his head, making his way back over to the group of friends who watched him get destroyed with amused grins on their faces before turning to San, who had his own amused grin now on his lips. "Was that all really needed, San? You didn't have to bury that guy like that, I could've held my own."

"I know." San simply replied before grabbing a champagne flute from one of the waitresses. He chuckled silently as you rolled your eyes at his simple response, his hand still pressed to your open back as he led you down the steps and into the large group of people. Everyone had their eyes on the two of you, making your confidence grow as San stood next to you at various rich people's tables, bragging about everything you've done for his company and how you were basically the company's backbone. And it was true.

San took over his mother's successful company at the age of 20, making him one of the youngest CEOs in his respective industry. San worked hard to show everyone that he was the right choice to be CEO and not just because of his DNA relations. San truly worked hard and that's why everyone knows his name.

"Oh, you look just dashing tonight, Mr. Choi. Your date must be so lucky." San smiled at the woman's compliment, putting on his most charming smile before motioning over to you, showing you off to the woman before wrapping his arm around your waist, and pulling you close to his side. You didn't mind, though, placing your hand over his heart as you both met eyes before he said "No, I'm the lucky one tonight."

You had been in the company for only 5 years when San took notice of you. He had seen your name on the various emails you and him sent back and forth, but he had never physically seen you as you worked from home most of the time, and he wasn't at your job interview. The first time you actually saw San was at the company one evening during a meeting. You and him were sitting across from each other at the long, meeting table as everyone around you both discussed a new location for the company to open. While you didn't keep your eyes on him, you could feel his gaze on you; whenever you spoke, whenever you moved, he always seemed to be looking at you. Only after the meeting did you both speak your first words to each other...

"We haven't met yet, have we?" You stopped packing up to see your boss giving you a charming smile, his hands in his suit pants pockets. You shook your head, holding your hand out to him, which he took. "No sir, I've been working from home for the past 5 years. My name is Y/N L/N." San nodded, his eyes moving up your soft, warm hand to your body, then slowly up to your face. It was as if he was scanning you, trying to commit you to memory. 

Ever since then, you've both been seeing more of each other and soon you were brought into his office for some news. "I'm promoting you to head of company image. As you know, this role works very closely with me, so that means that you will no longer work from home, but work in the office next to mine. That is, if you accept." Who were you to turn down a promotion? You got a huge pay raise, your own beautiful office, and got to see more of the handsome man who was now leading you around the venue as if you were a beautiful diamond that needed to be admired by everyone. It didn't take you long to accept his offer, and you've been his right-hand woman since.

"Did you parade the other girls around like this, San? I may be used to walking in heels, but damn." You sighed he led you outside, waiting with you till your valet arrived. San shook his head, unbuttoning his suit jacket to place on your bare shoulders. "I didn't. You're the only one I felt like I just had to show off. You just have that affect, I guess."

San always seemed to have a rotation of women around him at all times. He would attend various charity events with any women from the company he chose. If you were picked, you were labeled as one of San's girls. You became the talk of the company as the other women gossiped if he'd actually want to see that girl romantically or not. None of San's girls have ever been taken seriously though by him; he called it a business event and that they were just his guests. It never was meant to be taken as him taking interest in them, he just thought it was a nice thing to do.

"I'm glad you finally admitted it" You smiled as your car was pulled up by valet, San moving to open the door for you to get in. When you got in the car, he closed the door, leaning his elbows onto your door as he leaned into the car to give you a small kiss on your cheek- a thank you for coming tonight even though he knew you didn't want to. You waved goodnight as you began to drive away, glancing at the rearview mirror as San watched you leave, a smile still painted on his lips.

______________________________________________________________

"Alexa, put the house in night mode."

You removed your heels at your door as you walked into your home, sighing at the feeling of the cold floor on your exhausted feet. You grabbed your house slippers before walking your way through your home to your bathroom, deciding to go about your nighttime routine. You put on some music before turning on your shower, looking forward to the hot water and relaxing. You turn back to the large bathroom mirror, removing your accessories as you did so.

You paused when you noticed San's jacket that still sat on your shoulders, as if he was there right behind you, placing his hands on your shoulders. You couldn't help but bite your lip as you imagine it was him undressing you, his hands going onto your shoulders, his thumbs rubbing your shoulders before slipping under the fabric, pushing the sleeves of the dress down your arms, his lips following the falling fabric as he sinks his knees. His hands would move back up your body, feeling along your underwear as he kissed around the backs of your thighs before removing your bra and underwear, kissing back up his body before standing back up behind you.

You suddenly snapped out of your haze, your thighs pressed together as you took a deep breath before going into the shower.

San had just arrived at his own home by that time, his head pressed back against the front door as he closed his eyes, releasing a breath he didn't realize he had. You had filled his mind, his body aching for someone. He would usually try to find someone to spend the night with him to take care of his problem, but tonight he couldn't be bothered. Unless it was you, he didn't want her.

He pushed himself up from the door, making his way to the bathroom to begin his own night routine. He began to empty his pockets, unbuttoning the first few buttons of his shirt before going after his cufflinks. Before he could continue, he met his own gaze in the mirror, admiring it for a few moments before he decided to take a picture. San knew he looked good and sometimes would take pictures of himself just to keep to himself; he went to the gym and it boosted his confidence to see that even when he was tired, he still looked good. He took around 3 pictures before he had an idea. He went over to his social media, posting the pictures to his story. While others may think he did it for everyone else to see and thirst over, he was really doing this for you. Whenever he posts anything provocative, you always send him a flirty text that has his mind racing. You may be his right-hand woman, but you had him like putty in your hands.

You had emerged from the shower when he posted, putting on your nightgown and robe before you checked it out. You took your phone with you to your vanity, sitting down at the large table filled with skincare and makeup before clicking on San's recent story, your eyes widening at the sight. Even undressed and tired, Choi San seemed to always look absolutely delectable.

You bit your lip as you moved to message him, clicking on the contact name "Sannie" before typing and sending "Who are you showing out for?"

San bit his lip when he saw your text, his smile growing as he texted back "You. Did you like it?''

"Yes, but you should've just sent it to me San. You can't keep showing out for all your fangirls and not giving me anything. It's like I can't have you to myself." Your text made San groan softly, his tongue poking out over his lips as he tried to not Facetime you. His thumb twitched over his keyboard before he cursed softly, clicking the Facetime button. He wondered what you looked like at that moment; were you wearing only underwear? Were you still in your dress? were you naked?

You propped up your phone against your mirror before answering, giving San a full view of your open robe and your sexy lace night dress in white. San couldn't help but curse before saying "Damn, Y/N, you weren't going to tell me that you were looking like this?" You laugh softly at the tone of his voice and how his eyes seem to stay on your body. You made sure to move in a way that gave him a full view of your body as you did your skincare. San patiently waited for you to finish your skincare, cursing whenever you moved in a way that gave him a view of your chest and hard nipples. You loved having his full attention on you, occasionally making flirtatious comments just to rile him up more. What you didn't know was that San was riled up beyond what you thought, a plan forming in his head on how he was going to get his fix from you.

"Since you're doing your skincare, I'm assuming you aren't going out anymore tonight?" You nodded at San's question, finishing your conversation quickly before hanging up. You didn't think anything of it, thinking that maybe he was getting bored watching you.

After finishing your skincare, you went to your kitchen with your corgi Star following behind you. You fed her and gave her more water in her bowl before deciding to look for a night snack. Before you could decide between strawberries and an apple, you heard a knock at your door. You tilted your head, glancing at the time before looking back at the door, the knocks getting louder. You followed behind Star (who was barking at the door, trying to protect you), opening the door before gasping as San immediately crashed his lips into yours. He walked inside, kicking your door closed before dragging you to the kitchen. Star followed behind, still barking at you both as your tongue met San's, locking you in the kiss.

San grunted as he pulled back from your lips, grabbing a dog bone he had brought for Star from his back pocket before tossing it deep into the living room, chuckling as the small corgi forgot all about you and ran away. Your own laugh was cut short by San picking you up, placing you onto the kitchen counter, kicking your legs away from each other before he stepped in between them, kissing you deeply. San took his time kissing you, despite feeling incredibly hot for you. He closed his eyes as you moved your hands through his hair, slowly scratching his scalp with your nails before dragging them down the back of his neck, making him shiver and moan softly against your lips. He smirked against your lips as your hands moved to the front of his shirt, your fingers immediately moving to unbutton the rest of his shirt.

San let you, his lips and kisses moving down your jaw and neck, sucking a gentle spot on your collarbone, making you close your legs around him, officially caging him in. Once you finally finished removing his shirt, you tossed it away before returning your lips to his, your hands exploring his body. You gently scrapped your nails down his large pecks, down his strong torso, till you got to his dress pants that no longer had a belt. "No belt, Sannie?" you asked, making him chuckle. "There's no point in a belt when my pants are going to be coming off soon anyways. Isn't that right, Y/N?"

You bit your lip at the sound of his voice, his smirk growing at the sight. He decided that it was his own turn to move his hands up your body, starting at your thighs, moving his fingers slowly up the inside of your thighs, making you shake a bit before moving them up your hips, sides, up to your breasts that were now barely covered by the nightgown. San could feel his mouth water at the sight, dipping down to place kisses and bites on the top of your breasts before his fingers pushed away the straps. You whimpered his name, wanting him to move faster, but San only shushed you, dragging his tongue along the tops of your breasts before pulling them down to expose your hard nipples. San smirked at the sight before leaning down to wrap his lips around one of your nipples, his tongue immediately wetting it till it became hard, sucking on it.

You gently tossed your head back as San sucked on your nipple before switching to the other one. You placed your hands into his hair as he roughly pulled you to the edge of the counter, pressing his rock-hard erection against your wet pussy, allowing you to grind against it as he returned his attention to your nipple.

You cursed under your breath at the feeling, rolling your hips against his, making you both moan. You could tell San's resolve was breaking by how he was meeting your thrusts, his body pressing harder against yours until you had no choice but to lay back against the kitchen counter. Once you were laying back in a position he liked, he dragged his hands down to cup your wet pussy with his hand, his fingers dragging along the now wet fabric while his other hand pushed down his pants and boxers, giving you a perfect view of his hard cock that now stood up against his abs. You dragged your eyes down his v-line to meet the head of his cock, already leaking with precum. "Meet my eyes, angel." Your eyes meet San's as his hand moved to cup your jaw, keeping you facing him as he rubbed the head of his cock against your pussy.

Both of you let moans out in unison as he pushed into you, his hands gripping your hips as he stretched you out slowly. You closed your eyes at the feeling, your mind becoming fuzzy as he fully stretched you out, his hips pressed against yours. You opened your eyes as he kissed your stomach, switching between leaving kiss and bite marks on your skin. You could feel his cock twitch inside of you, his balls heavy with cum as he slowly kissed his way to your lips. San chuckled at how desperate you seemed to now, repeatedly pulling his lips back before they could meet yours and smirking when you chased his lips. He did a few more times before you got frustrated, placing your hand into his hair before making him meet your lips in a rough, needy kiss that made you both moan.

San took the opportunity to grab the tops of both of your thighs, his fingers digging into the flesh before he slowly pulled back out of you, letting you feel every inch and curve of his cock, only stopping when the head of his cock was still in you.

"Hold on, baby. I'll make sure you feel good." You had no doubt that he could, your hands grabbing onto his strong shoulders. San met your lips once more in a heated kiss as he thrusted into you, making you both moan out loudly. San dipped his head into your chest, kissing and pecking on the skin between your breasts as he cock rocketed in and out of you. You dug your nails into his shoulders and locked your legs around his waist, holding onto him as he fucked his cock deep into your pussy. "Fuck, San, calm down" your words came out broken between your moans, making him chuckle. He playfully mocked you, pausing his hips to let you try to speak before thrusting hard into you, not giving you the opportunity to even deny him your pussy.

San suddenly picked you up, your legs and arms still around him as he held you in the air, fucking up into you. You gasped the the feeling of your nails now digging along the shoulders of his back as you moaned louder. In the position, San could hit any spot, no matter how deep. "That feels good, doesn't it, Y/N? How does it feel having me hold you up in the air like this, drilling into your naughty pussy like this?"

"So fucking good" you moaned, making San grip your ass as he completely wrecked you. You didn't get to prepare for your orgasm as it came crashing through you, making you whine his name loudly as your cum dripped down his cock and balls. At the feeling and the sight of you cumming, San felt his own release approaching fast. "Fuck, where do you want me to cum Y/N, fucking hurry up I can't hold back any longer" Through your pleasure-filled haze you reached up to cup his cheeks, making him meet your eyes as you spoke. "Fucking cum in me, please."

"Yeah? Want me to drain my balls into your wet pussy, baby? You want that? To fill you up with my cum and let it leak out of you like a dirty fucking girl?" You nodded, begging for him to do so until his lips crashed into yours, San stumbling back to the counter to put you down on the surface as he came, his cum filling you up as he praised you against your wet lips, his own voice now horse as he came down from his high. You closed your eyes as he held you, his body warm against yours as you both rested in each other embrace. After a few minutes of silence, you felt him slowly pull out, his cock now soft and his cum now leaking from your pussy.

"Shit, Y/N, honey, sorry. That's a lot, hold on." You loosely held onto San as he picked you up, carrying you to the bathroom, where he placed you onto the sink.

The same place you were thinking about him touching and undressing you, he now stood naked as the shower heated up. "There, I think it's good enough," San mumbled as his hand touched the water, checking the temperature before going back over to where you were admiring his backside. San chuckles as he approaches you, kissing your forehead before picking you up into his arms so that he could carry you into the shower. "Were you staring at my ass?" he asked, placing you down in the shower before closing the door. You nodded, having no shame in admiring it.

San chuckled, pressing another kiss to your forehead before grabbing your body wash and loofah, following your instructions on where to wash you and how to wash you before letting you wash him off. When you apologized for not having any "manly" smelling soaps, San laughed softly before saying "I don't mind. If you want, next time I come over here, I'll bring some to keep here. Plus that means I can go home tonight smelling like you."

You smiled at his words, placing a kiss on his chest peck as he finished washing his hair before helping you out of the shower, leaving the bathroom to grab you both towels and something for you to wear to sleep while you used the bathroom. When you came back into the bedroom, you notice that San had prepared the bed for you, a dim light by the bed being the only light in the room.

"Come here, honey," You turned to see San approaching you with your lotion, his hands gently massaging it into your skin before meeting your lips in a deep kiss. It was moments like this with San that you were always looking forward to: sure, the sex was amazing, but how he handled you with so much care afterward always made your heart swoon. He helped you get dressed before tucking you into the bed, placing a kiss onto your forehead before he left the room to go put back on his clothes. You almost drifted to sleep when he returned, keys in his hand as he crouched down in front of you. "I'll see you in the office tomorrow, honey. You can come in late if your legs hurt too much." You nodded at his words, placing a small kiss on his hand, watching as he stood up and made his way out of the room.

Before he could leave, you called out to him, making him turn around to you. "Oh and San, can you take Star outside so that she can go use the bathroom then bring her back inside so she can go to sleep?" San laughed softly before nodding. Just like you asked, he took the happy corgi outside before letting her upstairs into your room, where you slept soundly. San blew you a kiss before closing the door, making his way back to his car outside with a smile on his lips. Before San backed out of your driveway, he bit his bottom lip, imagining that he was in the bed with you, holding you as you slept. He soon sighed, deciding to just go home and not bother you. He'd see you tomorrow anyways.

______________________________________________________________

"Y/N L/N! How could you be this late and make me deal with everyone by myself for an extra two hours?!"

You offered your best friend an apologetic smile as you walked through the hallways, your heels clicking in sync with hers. You took San up on his offer that you could come in late. You called this morning to tell him, but you must've forgotten to tell her.

"It can't have been that bad while I was gone, right B/N?" You asked as you both entered your large office, a pout on her face as she fixed her bright red heel. You took her pout as a sign that it wasn't bad, she just didn't like anyone else like she liked you. You turned to open your large floor-to-ceiling windows, inviting light into your large office before you sat down at your desk. "How was the gala last night? I saw the picture Mr. Choi posted and the photos you sent me of the dress he made for you, so you both must've looked great."

Before you could tell her about the amazing night and how San was showing you off, your office door opened to show a group of women entering your office with excited grins also on their faces. You looked at them with confusion before one spoke up asking "well? how did last night go with Mr. Choi?"

You recognized the group of girls as the self-proclaimed "San's girls" group; all of San's ex-charity invites. You knew they were here to hear gossip about you and San and try to recruit you to join their friend group. "Look, I have no interest in gossiping about the charity gala and the time I and Mr. Choi spent together. I want to remind you all that we are in a place of business: we are here to work, not gossip over a boy like high school girls. Now please leave my office." Your words made all the girls' smiles leave their faces, disappointed that you weren't like them when it came to San. As everyone filed out of your office, your phone rang. You raised an eyebrow at the sudden phone call, shrugging at B/N before picking up the call.

"Ah, Ms. L/N, you're in. There is a large board of directors meeting today, so Mr. Choi asked that I give you a call to remind you and tell you to report to the meeting room in an hour for the meeting." You cursed softly as you listened to San's assistant Bambi, thanking her before hanging up. You had completely forgotten about the meeting, grateful that San had her remind you.

You rushed to the bathroom, checking on your hair and makeup before you checked out your outfit to make sure it was perfect: your white button-up had the first few buttons open, not showing your cleavage but enough to show off your gold necklaces, while your black pants hugged you perfectly. As you applied some perfume, you thought back to your phone call with San this morning:

"Yeah, you can come in late Y/N, just make sure you take your time getting ready then. I want you to come in today looking absolutely stunning so that when everyone leave tonight, I can bend you over my desk and fuck you like you deserve for listening to me." 

You bit your lip at the thought of what could happen later, checking your appearance once more before leaving the bathroom to join the meeting upstairs. When you entered the meeting room, you were met with an older man's eyes scanning you. You rolled your eyes as they did so, looking at you like you were candy for them. You were the only woman that attended these meetings as San's right-hand woman, so the men (whom you doubted have felt the touch of a woman since the early 2000s) decided that you were their favorite to look at.

San noticed how everyone kept their eyes on you, making his jealousy flare up. How dare these men look at you like that when you were his?

"Excuse me, let's get back to meeting matters please" San hid his jealousy under his charm, hoping that he wouldn't have to get disrespectful with some old men. The men thankfully agreed, all embarrassed from being caught checking you out by San. "Yes, well, the new location our company has secured is in Las Vegas, and before they open the venue the company would like for you to go and check it out to make sure it's up to your liking." San nodded, agreeing with the idea of him going to Vegas to look it over.

Then, he had an idea.

"How about this: we all go look it over. That includes you too, Ms. L/N." You turned to see San's smug smile, tilting his head as everyone cheered. You held question in your eyes, which San ignored as he returned to dealing with the group of men who were asking questions about the sudden business trip.

Later that evening, once everyone had went home for the day, you went into San's office as planned. "San, what do you mean that it includes me? I never travel with you and the other trustees."

"I know. But I think it's time for a change, don't you? Plus, the old men are planning a big celebratory dinner at the beautiful restaurant and I'll need someone to be on my arm, right?" You paused at his words, biting your lip. San never picked the same girl twice when it came to public appearances, always picking a different girl in the company. Before you could say anything, San stood up from his desk, preparing to go home. You still tried to gather your words while he walked around his office gathering his things before he walked behind you, his hands resting on your hips as his chest pressed against your back, his lips against your ear. "Make sure to bring a nice dress for dinner and some pretty underwear for me, baby."

You continued to stand in his office as he left, your cheeks heated while you processed what just happened.

You're going to Vegas.

You continued to mumble that as you looked through your closet for outfits to wear, wanting to find something perfect to wear to dinner. You sighed as turned to your bed, looking at the many dress options you picked out. To you, they all were great options for a celebratory dinner party in Las Vegas, but you couldn't pick one. You bit your lip for a while before grabbing your phone, dialing San. If anything, he'd offer you his honest opinion.

"Hello?" San asked, looking surprised when you turned it into a Facetime call. He then laughed as you showed him your dress-covered bed, biting his lip to hold it back when you began to complain. "You're overthinking it, honey. Just pick one, you'll look stunning in anything you pick." San sighed as you continued to overthink about the dresses, making him want nothing more than to solve this for you.

"My tie is going to be black honey. Do with that information what you will."

You paused at his words, your eyes immediately landing on a form-flattering black dress. You thanked San quickly, making him laugh before he stopped you from hanging up. "Real quick, honey: what's your favorite flower? The restaurant wanted to know for decor reasons and I know that me and other men won't care." You let out a small 'ooh' before saying "I've always been a red rose type of girl. But only fresh ones.'' San nodded before allowing you to hang up and finish packing, a smile on your face as you did so.

______________________________________________________________

You hated business trips sometimes.

You had to board your dog early in the morning to reach your booked flight in time, where you sat in business while San and some of the other old men sat in first. You pouted to San about it over text, his only response being "I'll make it up to you, I promise." Then when the plane landed, you all were immediately taken to your luxury hotel rooms, which all had a nice view. However, you didn't have to admire it as you had to change fast, all the other men were already in suits and waiting on you in the lobby. When San saw how rushed you seemed he felt a huge pang of guilt. He wanted to just hug you and let you relax for a moment, but he knew he couldn't do it in front of his trustees or he'll never hear the end of it.

Once you all had toured the new building that the company built, you all went back to your rooms to prepare for dinner. You appreciated the time you had, taking a long shower before taking your time doing your hair, skin, and makeup. When you put on the black dress, you admired how much it hugged your curves and flattered you beautifully. You then put on your heels, grabbed your bag, and made your way outside to meet the others in the lobby. When San saw you, he felt absolutely speechless. To him, you looked like a complete goddess. How was he supposed to keep his hands to himself when you looked that good? He smiled as the others complimented you, taking a moment to breathe in your new perfume that he had gifted you a while ago, making him close his eyes momentarily before opening them again.

When you all arrived at the dinner venue, you were escorted to a private dining room at the top of the building, which gave you all a beautiful view of Las Vegas. However, when the door opened, you noticed San become tense and then froze. Only when you got past him did you see why he stopped.

"I hope you don't mind, Mr. Choi, but I invited my personal friend Wessly to join us tonight. I think you two know each other." You glanced back at San who held in his anger in his eyes. He didn't say anything for a moment, his jaw locking then unlocking a few times, leading you to step up before he said or did anything that was unfavorable. "I'm sure Mr. Choi doesn't mind. Please, Mr. Wessly, sit down. Join in the celebration."

You then met San's eyes, watching as the anger that was in his eyes became hidden under his charm once more. "Of course, he can join. The more, the better." The group erupted into cheers as San sat down at the table across from you, his eyes not meeting yours. You felt a pang of worry when he continued to ignore you, moving your foot to gently touch his, hoping to get his attention. You succeed, San's eyes immediately meeting yours at the touch of your heel against his leg.

Now you knew why he wasn't looking at you.

San's eyes darkened, offering you a warning in his eyes before they were once again replaced by his charming smile as he took a sip of his wine and joined in on the group conversation again. You bit your lip, removing your heel from his as you tried to hold back the arousal that you felt beginning to pool in your underwear. Noticing your silence though, Wessly leans over to whisper into your ear, asking if you're alright. You nodded, whispering back that you just got a random heat flash. Wessly nodded, suddenly wrapping his arm around your shoulder. Your eyes widened slightly at the feeling, looking over at him as he took the opportunity to flirt with you, with the other old men egging him on. You could see out of the corner of your eye that San was absolutely not having the display in front of him, his leather shoe soon meeting your ankle, making you turn to him. To everyone else, his eyes seemed normal, but to you, you knew that he was sending you a message.

Get his arm from around you now. 

You tried a few times to move from his arm, but Wessly would move in his seat so that you would be back to being right back against him. You sighed happily when the food arrived, forcing him to remove his arm from you to eat. However, before you could dig in, you felt San's foot, tap yours again, making you look back up at him. San didn't say anything as his mouth was busy with the food in his mouth, but his eyes did motion over to your phone that sat in your bag. You furrowed your eyebrows, looking through your bag before finding your phone. When you did, you noticed a text from San.

Sannie: When everyone else leaves this room, you and I need to have a conversation.

You looked at San with another look of confusion, but you're only met with the sight of him eating and ignoring you once more.

After dinner was finished, some of the trustees ordered themselves drinks, deciding to head to the many casinos around Vegas. You thought about joining them, standing up from your chair only to remember the message that sat on your phone. You glanced out of the corner of your eye to see San drop something and kick it under the table. Before you could grab it, San spoke up. "Ready to go, Y/N?" You nodded, letting him decide where you went. Only when you both reached the elevator did San stop you suddenly, patting his arms and pockets before cursing softly. "Ah, it seems that I lost my phone. You go on without me and Y/N, we're going to go look for it then probably head back to the hotel for the night."

You agreed with San, waving goodbye to everyone as the elevator doors closed before heading back to the private room with San. The minute the doors closed behind you, San had you pressed against the door. His lips were immediately on yours, his tongue pushing his way into your mouth, making you moan. Something seemed different with San right now: he was more aggressive and demanding, his hand moving around your jaw to tilt your head back so that he could make out with you properly. You let out a muffled moan as he pulled back, his hands grabbing your ass roughly before he pulled back from your embrace. When you moved to make a step forward, San let out a stern "Stay," stopping you in your tracks. You watched as San untied his tie, placing it onto the table before he spoke.

"Look at you being good for me, it's a shame that that won't help you out of this punishment." Your thighs pressed together at the faux disappointment in San's voice as he walked closer to you. He was close enough that you could reach out and touch him, but you didn't dare. San smirked softly, cupping your cheek before leaning in and kissing you softly.

"Safeword is Honey, ok?" San asked against your lips, waiting till you nodded before he whispered "Good girl" against your lips, placing a soft kiss back on your lips. You smiled into the sweet kiss enjoying how San was treating you, but you couldn't help but be excited at the idea of him punishing you.

San pulled back from the kiss, his smile dropping as he made his way over the the nearest chair, pulling it to face you and the door before he sat down on the chair, manspreading as he he beckoned you. You bit your lip, about to take a step forward when he stops you. "Take off your panties and give them to me." You blinked at his request, your mouth trying to ramble off excuses on why you couldn't but San didn't care. "Don't act like we haven't done worse in private. Shall I remind you of that time we were having phone sex and you were begging for me to take you into my office during a phone meeting and fuck you stupid while I work?" You blushed, rushing to cover his mouth.

San smirked at your reaction, grabbing your hand, removing it from his mouth as his free hand moved to touch your thigh, slowly moving up your inner thigh, making you shiver. "Cold?" He asked, his smirk growing when you asked him to shut up as you didn't want anyone else to hear you both. San didn't care, though, leaning forward to bite the skin on your leg before pulling down your panties, placing them into his pocket before he looked back up at you. He loved seeing the submission fill your eyes when he got like this, his cock twitching in his pants.

"Get on your knees, baby. You gotta start earning your title as my good girl back." You nodded, sinking to your knees in between his legs, running your hands up his thighs as you kissed along his thighs. Your hands made quick work of his belt and pant buttons, your hand eagerly moving to rub his cock over his underwear.

"Get to it, baby, before someone comes in here to clean up." He groaned, raising his hips to help you push down his pants and underwear. He sucked in a breath when you wrapped your hand around it, pumping his hard cock a few times before placing your mouth around the top, teasing him by gently sucking. San groaned again, his patience snapping when he pushed your head all the way down on his cock. You looked up at him as you began to bob your head, letting him fuck your throat as you gripped his thighs. "That's it, Y/N, let me use your throat like this. You like this don't you? You want someone to walk in on us like this? With you on your knees letting your boss fuck your pretty mouth and throat like this?" You moaned around his cock, making him hiss at the vibration.

You were suddenly pulled up from his cock, San panting above you with his eyes closed. "I was so close to fucking cumming. Wanna come in you, baby" He breathed, his hand still in your hair as he stood up, kicked the chair away, and bent you over the table. You bit your lip as San smacked your ass, pushing up your dress around your hips. He moved his hand around the globe of your ass, grabbing and spanking as he pleased. You had been moaning into your hands as to not let anyone else know about what you two were doing, but that only made San upset.

You suddenly felt San's chest against your back, grabbing his tie from the table before he grunted "Open." You did so, allowing San to place his tie in a line along your mouth, muffling your words. San tilted his head, tugging his tie, smirking when your head moved back with his tug. "Remember the safe word, baby. If you can't speak, hit the table three times and I'll let go of the tie." You nodded, smiling when you felt him press a gentle kiss to your cheek. But this was a punishment.

You cursed loudly around the tie as San thrusted hard into you, not giving you a moment to adjust as he drilled his cock into your pussy, his hips meeting your ass roughly with every thrust. San cursed at every movement of your ass against his rough thrusts, leaning over to spit on one cheek before he spread it over your ass, roughly massaging your ass. You closed your eyes as San roughly tugged on the tie, making you sit up with your back against his hard chest.

"Y/N? San? Are you two still in there looking for the phone?" San released his grip on the tie as he heard Wessly's voice, closing his eyes as he tried to fix his voice to respond to him. You bit your lip, moving your ass against San, giving your pussy and his cock some friction while you spoke, making San moan into your neck as his hands move to the front of your dress, his hands pulling down the fabric to envelope your breasts in his hand as you both continue to grind against each other. "Y-yeah, sorry Mr. Wessly-"

You were cut off by San's lips crashing into yours, making you gasp. "Do you know how fucking annoying it is to hear you say that son of a bitch's name? I bet he gets off on the idea of you moaning his name like you're moaning mine," San spat against your lips, his jealousy clouding his mind and judgment as he picked you up, moving you over to the closest wall to the door before he picked you up, wrapping his arms around you as your wrapped your legs around his waist, letting him refill you easily, making you both moan.

"S-san, he's still out there. And I don't think I can keep quiet" You whimpered, making San scoff. "Who fucking cares if he hears you? Let him listen to how good I fuck my girl." You bit your lip as he began to pound into you, your wet pussy making loud sounds as he does so. If someone were to walk by and listened close enough, they'd be able to clearly tell what you and San were doing, but he didn't care, and neither did he. He roughly removed his suit jacket, tossing it onto the floor before he laid down on it, moving your legs to his shoulders.

"Oh my fucking god, San, that feels so good," you moaned, not minding your volume, which made San's cock twitch. He leaned over, pressing your knees against your breasts as he moved faster, making you louder. San glanced behind, smirking when he saw Wessly's shoes still outside the door.

The little perv was listening.

You whimpered when San pulled out, moving you to your hands and knees before he fucked himself back into you from behind, making you get louder as he spanked your ass. "Come on, baby, let the perv hear how fucking good it feels for me to absolutely drill into this pussy from behind baby" You moaned louder, your legs shaking as your orgasm began to approach quickly. San cursed at how tight you were getting, moving his hand to play with your clit before proudly saying "That's it, Y/N, be a fucking good girl and cum all over my cock, then you're going to come clean my cock"

At San's words and the feeling of his cock drilling into you, you came all over his cock, even coating the front of his thighs. You shook as you came down from the orgasm, your eyes closing before San pulled out, moving in front of you with his cock still hard, but now shiny, covered in all of your cum and essence. You opened your mouth, welcoming his hard cock as you sucked on his cock, bobbing your head as San moaned loudly. You slipped a hand between your legs, playing with your clit as you continued to move your head on his cock, the sight making San moan louder.

"Such a dirty girl, are you? You just came, yet here you are, playing with your poor clit while you suck me off. You just love this cock, don't you, baby? Why don't you beg for me to fill your throat with my cum. Nice and loud so our buddy Wessly out there can hear too" You nodded, pulling your mouth off of San's cock as you played with your clit faster, begging him to cum down your throat. San soon rolled his eyes back as his hand moved on his cock before he pushed your head back down on his cock, filling your throat with all of his cum. You didn't have a moment to breathe, because San flipped you over onto your back, moving in between your legs before he leaned down, shoving his tongue deep into your pussy. You moaned loudly closing your eyes as one of San's hands moved up your body as he ate your pussy, gripping your jaw to face the door, silently letting you know to moan that way and let him hear you.

San moved faster as you moaned his name, a finger pushing its way into your pussy as he continued to suck your clit, only pulling back when you had cum and pushing him away from your clit. He sat up with a confident smirk on his lips before he moved under the table, grabbing his phone before he fixed his outfit. He offered you a sweet, shy, smile before he picked you up, helping you fix your outfit before he placed his jacket on your shoulders, wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

When you both exited the room, you offered Wessly an apologetic look as San said "Yeah, me and my girl found my phone. See you later, yeah?" San didn't wait for a response laughing softly at the man's shocked reaction as he entered the elevator.

"San, that was crazy!" You whined, San's smile growing as he placed a kiss on your cheek. He spent the elevator ride assuring you that there were no cameras in the room and that you weren't getting into trouble and that Wessly wouldn't tell anyone.

When you and San get outside, he leads you to the black SUV he rented for the trip. "Wait, before you get inside" You pause at the passenger door, turning to see San grab something from the backseat before he stepped back out, facing you with a bright smile. In his hands, he held the most beautiful and biggest bouquet of roses you had ever seen. You gasped softly, accepting the flowers from him before he placed a kiss onto your lips. "I thought you'd might want something pretty after all that" San smiled, placing another kiss onto your lips before he helped you get into the seat. As he walked around to the other side of the car, you bit your lip at something you remembered him saying. 

Yeah me and my girl found the phone

You couldn't help but smile at the thought of becoming San's official girlfriend. "Woah, did I do that good a job with the roses that you're smiling so big like that?" San asked as he got into his seat, chuckling softly before he turned the car on, holding your hand, gently intertwining your fingers. "No, just you said me and my girl to Wessly..." you said, looking down at your intertwined hand with a smile. San glanced over at you before lifting your hand to his lips, placing it back down on your lap with a smile.

"Well, let me take my girl back to the hotel. I have another surprise for you."

"Please do."

______________________________________________________________

"San, when did you have time to do all of this?"

You stood in the doorway shocked as San chuckled, a small blush appearing on his cheeks. He had hotel staff move your luggage to his exclusive suite, and bring in a bunch of heart balloons, more roses, and bring in champagne. San cleared his throat, seemingly more nervous than usual. He took the flowers from you, placing them on the desk before he got down on his knees, carefully removing your heels. You felt your heart skip multiple beats a the sight, thanking him softly. He nodded, before holding your hand, leading you to the bathroom. The bathroom was gorgeous, with a beautiful marble bathtub that sat next to a view of Las Vegas. You smiled as San prepared the bath, adding bath bubbles, rose petals, and brought in his speaker and phone to play some soft jazz.

You allowed San to help you undress before helping you into the water, letting you relax. You watched him undress before he got in behind you, allowing you to rest back against his chest.

"This is nice, no?" You leaned back to look at San, who still had that blush on his cheeks. He was trying so hard to impress you and be romantic.

"Yes San, this is perfect. You smile, turning around in his arms to wrap your arms around his neck, placing a long kiss onto his lips. San welcomed the kiss, his lips molding with yours as he welcomed you onto his lap. As the kiss continued, you moaned at the feeling of his cock hardening. You bit his bottom lip, raising your hips to sink down on his cock, making him toss his head back. "Shit, this...isn't how I expected this to go" He moaned, holding your hips as you began to grind down on him. You raised an eyebrow, cupping his face to ask what he meant. San tried to play it off, but you knew better.

"I did all of the decorating and stuff because I wanted it be romantic so that I could ask you to be my girlfriend." You paused your movements at his words. San was going to ask you to be his? "I thought it would make me look like less of an asshole if I did it correctly. I was even going to order room service so that we could eat and then I could ask you."

"San you're not an asshole. Why would you ever think that?" You ask, making San look away. "I took over the company at 20. I was still a stupid college student just with all this money now. When it came time for me to start going to those charity galas, I...I don't know, I guess I was insecure and so I bribed a woman at the company to go with me as my date. That's how this whole "San's girls" group started. Instead of actually dating someone, I just picked a woman from the office and made her mine for the night, knowing damn well I wasn't going to pursue anything." You could sense the shame in San's voice, cupping his cheeks so that he could look at you. Before you could speak, though, San cut you off.

"But, now I've grown up. I've learned from that part of my life. And after bringing you with me to the gala, all our years of flirting, and fucking, I can't deny that I'm in love with you, Y/N. So, if you'll have me, I'd love to be your boyfriend."

You smiled at his words crashing your lips into his, making him moan. He closed his eyes, making the kiss deeper as you began to roll your hips again. You both were then interrupted by San's phone notification. You both leaned over to see who it was. It was a message from Holly, a girl who was part of the "San's girls" group.

Holly: Hey Mr. Choi, what are you up to tonight? Wanna facetime? ;)

San rolled his eyes, about to delete the message and go back to making out with you when you stopped him, leaning over to prop up his phone and pull up the camera. San looked at you with a confused look before you pressed record, locking your lips his again. You began to bounce on his cock, making him moan into the kiss. "Who's your girl?'' You asked against his lips, making San whine "You."

"Who? I can't hear you." You said, getting louder to show him what volume he needed to be talking at. San bit his lip before moaning louder "You. You're my fucking girl, honey." "Then you need to fuck me like you mean it, okay baby?"

Your words made San's mind short-circuit, his hands rushing to grab your hips before held you in place as he fucked up into you. You grabbed his shoulders as the water splashed around you both, making you both moan louder. "That's my girl, taking my cock just like this, gonna show the camera how good you can take it? Maybe I should show all of those girls at the office how I would've fucked them if they were truly my girl." You moaned louder at San's words, feeling your orgasm rip through you. San didn't stop though, finding the water now annoying, pulling you up from the water and grabbing his phone to move to the bedroom, where he laid you on the bed, wrapping your legs around him as he fucks you. Your back arched as San played with your clit, pressing down just right to make you cum again. San then pulled out, cumming all over your stomach and breasts. You closed your eyes to try and catch your breath, opening your eyes when you heard a camera shutter go off.

"San, did you just take picture of me covered in your cum?" You asked, making San smiled brightly and nodded. "I'm not going to show anyone, I promise. I just want it for if I ever have to travel and I missed you." You smiled as San cleaned you up before laying down on the bed next to you, kissing you softly.

"Is it too late to say that I want room service still?" you asked, making San shake his head as he laughed, leaning over you to grab the hotel room phone and handed you the menu. "No, baby. Anything my girl wants, she'll get."

__________________________________________________________

One month later

"There you are!"

You looked up from your paperwork to see B/N enter with a huge smile on her face as she sat down in a chair. "I've been in my office all day, you know that B/N. What's up?" You asked, leaning back in your chair as your friend pulled up San's Instagram, showing his newest post with red hair. Everyone in the office was in love with it. B/N gave you a proud smile before she asked "Did you dye his hair for him? Is that why your bathroom looked like you murdered someone?"

You smirked, doing the zip motion with your lips and hand before you stood up, gathering your things to go to lunch with San. B/N pouted as you both left your office asking "When are you going to let me in on you and San's relationship? I wanna know the details."

"Soon, B/N. Patience is important." You smiled, patting her head before you walked away to the elevator. When the doors open, you were met with the back of your boyfriend's head, his hair still a vibrant red. You smiled as you entered his office, making him turn around. He smiled softly at you before muting himself on the phone meeting he was in. "I'm sorry baby. I'm still in this meeting, so you're going to have to wait."

"That's alright, I can think of something to do while I wait" you smiled, walking to him with a smirk. San knew that smirk meant, standing up from his chair to move the chair as you began to pull up your skirt. San rushed to lock the door, biting his lip with a proud smirk as he looked at you bent over his desk already with your skirt and panties off. "Do you think you could multitask?" You ask as he stood behind you, unbuckling his belt.

"I think so, baby girl. Let's see, shall we?'' He asked, placing a kiss onto your lips before he pushed in, kissing your ear as he whispered "That's a good girl, already so wet for me. That's my girl."

BAMBIKISS | 2024

[flamingpudding]

Fictober23 Prompt: 29 - "That's all? Easy."

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: G

Warnings: -

A/N: I sometimes like to headcannon that Danny is actually a rich kid that doesn't live the rich kid style cause his parents use their money for their research and like to live a simple life. He goes to galas Vlad or Sam drag him to as his parents representative.

Damian had been prepared for another boring Gala to go through. His elder siblings as well as Pennyworth had made sure to take away any sharp blade he had on him beforehand. With the blades gone Damian refused to socialize with high society. What was the point in enduring the torture of pinched cheeks and repeating comments with double meanings and hidden insults as well as the 'boot' lickers, as one of his brothers liked to put it, when he wasn't allowed to return the favor these people were giving him with a quick blade swipe.

So Damian was hanging back, retreating to the corners and shadows of the room where people aside from his family wouldn't notice him. But being there gave him the chance to notice something else. At first Damian didn't think much of it but with the minutes passing he noticed it more and more.

Small colorful page markers.

He started tracking them. Eyes going from person to person as he scanned them for these markers. Always in spots and placements oneself wouldn't notice them on their own as well as by others around them. Sometimes they were even Color matched with the person's outfit.

Damian scanned the hall and his eyes landed on a teenager, younger than Drake but older than him. The other boy was gliding through the people seemingly effortlessly and unnoticed towards the snack table. Once there the teen appeared to be interested in what sort of food the gala was offering.

His eyes narrowed as he eyed the people the teen had passed.

A blue marker by the belt loop of an older gentleman.

Red marker on the purse of the lady dressed in purple.

Green marker on another man's vest.

He was sure these markers weren't on them before. Interesting, he missed before moving towards the teenager by the snack table. The boy by now had piled up one of the small plates high with some of the overhead foods and Damian first felt reminded of everting Todd went to a gala and immediately would go for the foods.

"You are quite sneaky." He spoke up after waiting somewhat politely for the other to acknowledge his presence. Which never happened even after five minutes and Damian having clearly seen the other looking at him from his corner of the eye.

"Oh, what do you mean?" The teen then said after swallowing a bite of food.

"I presume the page markers are what you're doing?"

"Damit, not even an hour in and I am already busted." The teenager muttered and Damian arched an eyebrow. "Look, I don't know whose rich kid you are but will stop as long as you don't tell the fruitloop. I am here to represent my parents and if this fruitloop hears I am playing the game Sam invented for these galas he will-"

"I believe you misunderstood my intention." Damian smirked as he held out a hand. "My family found it adequate to take my blades. So I want in on this 'game' you are playing."

The teenager blinked at Damian before a grin spread across his face. He hurriedly placed his plate on the table before rummaging around in one of his pockets."Well that is a nice change! Your not a stuck up like the other kids here."

A block of green, red and blue page markers were then placed in Damians held out hand. "I am Danny Fenton by the way, representative of Fentonworks."

"Damian Wayne." He answered out of reflex as he inspected the page markers given to him, uncaring if the teen would now start fawning over his last name like he had seen others do before.

"Cool. So want to make it more interesting? This is more fun in a two player setting then one player." Damian inclined his head, not letting the surprise of the other teens lack of reaction towards his name show. Well it looked like Daniel, because what else got the name Danny stand for, would be nice company for this gala.

"Let's make specific targets for each other, maybe even placements. Sam always dares me to do specific things. If one of us gets caught is an automatic loss, the one with the highest successful placements at the end of this gala is the winner."

He smirked. Daniel had no chance, a game like this was easy for him. This was going to be an easy win. His league training as well as the training his father had made him go through was going to give him a clear advantage. He was playing with the thought of giving Daniel a chance by not using certain skills but after the first three targets, Damian decided that that would be unnecessary.

The gala went by faster, the two pointing out specific people or placements of the marketers to each other. They both had surprisingly their fair share of failures as well as success. In the end they both had a draw and were on their last page marker to place.

"This is going to be the final decision between, win, loss or draw." Daniel hyped up the game and Damian shook his head lightly at the others foolishness that reminded him of Jon.

"Well then, it would be only right to select the most difficult targets for each other."

"Well if that's the case, see the guy over there, the one with gray hair and a ponytail? That's the fruitloop. Place your last marker right to the left on his lower back, where his jacket covers over his belt."

Damian arched an eyebrow but the teen only grinned. He smirked if the other wanted to make it apparently difficult then Damian could provide him with a real challenge. "For you target, my father is currently talking to this 'fruitloop' as you call him. Place the marker on his back on his left shoulder blade."

Daniel would not be able to so, his father was vigilant and despite his act, very aware of his surroundings. His newly made gala acquaintance would fail and Damian would be the winner of this game.

"That's all? Easy."

The two boy's started to move towards the two adults. They shared one last glance before splitting up slightly in two different directions to approach their targets. Damian was close, his steps silent as he neared his target the 'fruitloop'. The page marker was tagged to the tip of one of his fingers. Once he was close enough he would be able to place it without even having to get too close.

His father noticed him and Damian gave him a polite smile as he moved like he was going to pass the man in his way towards his father. He did however not anticipate for his target to place his hand on the hip obscuring his target placement. Damian's hand instantly hid his hand behind his back transferring the page tag to his other hand and unconsciously clicked his tongue. He would have to try again.

"Fruitloop! Who are you talking to?!" He heard Daniel shout out of nowhere suddenly, his head wiping around to see the other clapping his hand on his fathers shoulder. The shoulder where he had told the other to place the marker. Damian ground his teeth. He was not going to accept a loss here.

"Daniel! Where are your manners?! This is Bruce Wayne. CEO of Wayne Enterprise. I am so sorry Mr.Wayne."

"No worries Mr.Masters. He is just like how my sons were at his age. It is good for teens to be so full of energy."

Damian narrowed his eyes as the other teen gave him a peace sign and mouthed the words 'I won.' As the adults returned to their discussion Damian glared at Daniel, his last page tag crumpled in his hand, he switched to stand on his fathers other side so that he was next to the teen now.

"I demand a rematch." He hissed agitated, to which Daniel only grinned wider. "Sure. The next time we see each other at a gala again. I will have two packs ready for our rematch."

Later that night when Damian had returned home from the Gala, he took off his jacket only to notice something green peaking through the folds of it. As he lifted it to inspect where the Color on it game from his eyes narrowed and his grip on the jacket tightened. On his jacked he found several green page markers tagged on it one of them even had a little ghost drawn on it. "Well played Fenton, well played."

[hypewinter]

We've seen a lot of Danny is Damian's twin or older brother but I haven't seen many Danny is Damian's younger brother.

Dick Jason Tim Cass

I see this going two ways:

Danny gets whisked away from the league. Probably because Ra's was going to have Damian kill him as a test of loyalty but Talia or one of his nurses was having none of that. He ends up in Illinois, becomes a ghost, bla bla bla. They meet again when Sam drags Danny to a gala in Gotham with her and Damian is like "Danyal!?". Danny is utterly confused because he was too young to remember Damian or the league. Cue Damian going into overprotective 'I'm never letting you out of sight again' mode. The giw doesn't stand a chance once he finds out about them. The batfam is absolutely shocked because no one knew their youngest could be that protective of another person (Damian is 16 in this while Danny is still 14 btw). Him and Jazz are about to duke it out for custody or at least for the position as the most reliable sibling. Danny meanwhile is still processing that he has an assassin older brother. Neat.

Danny reincarnates. He retains his ghost powers somewhat which makes him special in the eyes of Ra's. This means he gets a separate training regimen. Damian sees his younger brother winning all of his grandfather's attention and promptly proceeds to pretend like he doesn't exist when he leaves for Wayne Manor. Out of jealousy and all that. Until one of the batbros is needling him about something or another and he lets it slip. The batfam is instantly like "we gotta rescue him" which Damian is not happy about. The entire rescue mission, he's complaining about how pointless this all is and how Danny is probably living like a king until they break into his room. Danny's room is bare except for a bed and when he sees Damian, he runs to him crying "you came back for me!". It turns out that Danny's training was much crueler to truly bring out the fullest force of his powers (no better trainer than survival and all that). Danny thinks his older brother came to save him and gets attached quickly. Damian refuses to admit how much the guilt is eating him up on the inside. (In this one Damian is 12 and Danny is 10)

[malum-forev]

Hi, can I request ex husband!bucky x reader with the prompt “what makes you think you can…” from the bingo card??

Hi hiii thank you sooo much for your ask! Sooo, I kind of blacked out and ended up writing something that's over 3k words long. Hope you like it! It's kind of a part 2 to this story I wrote! I thought this prompt fit perfectly! get ready for ANGST CENTRAAALLLL

“Please don’t pick up, please don’t pick up, please don’t pick up.” (Y/n) begged, hearing the third ring on her side of the phone. 

She didn’t know what to say. Hell, she didn’t know it was happening until this week! It would have gone completely unnoticed if it hadn’t been for an especially excited teacher. (Y/n)’s stomach just about dropped onto the floor as she heard her daughter’s teacher say how generous and kind Bucky was. 

Another ring, one more and I can hang up. She thought but no, nothing with Bucky was ever simple. He couldn’t not answer the phone when (Y/n) wanted. Was that too much to ask? For Bucky to read her mind?

“Hey, do-“ Bucky stopped himself, trying to mask it with a cough. He couldn’t call you that anymore, he had to remember that. “What’s up?”

“Hi, I just wanted to ask you about something but I guess you’re busy so I’ll just-“

Bucky laughed. “I’m never too busy for you.”

(Y/n) rolled her eyes, talk about nothing being simple. He couldn’t even make the divorce that he wanted easy!

“So, I didn’t know this happened or better yet how it happened but,” She took a deep breath. “Peanut’s school is having a gala, a fund raiser and somehow P put your name down.”

The line went silent for a couple of seconds.

“I tried to explain to the school that you would be busy and that you don’t even go to your work galas.” She tried to joke, gnawing on her bottom lip nervously.

Bucky broke the silence with a noise. “Mhm.”

“But they said that when the parents saw the school was auctioning a day with an Avenger, ticket sales went up like 200 percent.”

“Oh Peanut.” Bucky groaned. 

“I know you’re probably going to be busy,” (Y/n) said. “I just had to ask. P threatened to paint her hair blue if I didn’t give you a call.”

“She gets that from you.” Bucky’s low chuckle sent tingles through her body. 

(Y/n) leaned on the wall behind her with a deep breath, she could always count on Bucky to calm her nerves. “Sure, we can say P gets her determination and ability to blackmail from me and not her father, James ‘Bucky’ Buchanan Barnes.”

Bucky’s belly laugh warmed (Y/n)’s heart, it had been a long time since she’d heard it. 

“When’s the thing?” 

“It’s next Friday but don’t worry, we can auction off something from that old box I have in the attic. Maybe that old leather jacket-“

“Don’t you dare.” Bucky playfully growled. “Never get rid of my lucky jacket! If I remember correctly that thing is the reason I got a second date out of you.”

Her mind went to that moment in time, all those years ago. It was Bucky’s favorite but he said it looked better on her. 

“Is P going to the gala?” Bucky interrupted (Y/n)’s thoughts.

“Yeah, kids can go too.” She continued. “How about you ask Sam to submit a signed shield. The prototypes that no one uses-“

“I’ll be there.”

“What?” Her eyes just about bulged out of their sockets.

“I’ll be there.” Bucky repeated casually, like it wasn’t the first time ever he wanted to go to any of Peanut’s school events. Let alone a gala!

“You do know you’ll have to wear a tux, right?” She noted.

“You’ll be there, right?” Bucky asked. 

“Mhm.” (Y/n) brought her bottom lip in between her teeth. 

“Then I’m sure I can find one or two in the back of my closet.” Bucky smiled thinking about his options. She won’t be happy, but it’ll be worth it. He thought. 

“Oh-okay. So I guess I’ll see you next week.”

- 

(Y/n) smoothed the fabric of her dress nervously. Did Bucky forget he was supposed to be here? Was he sent on a mission at the last moment? She looked over at Peanut at the kids table, so excited that her dad was finally going to something at her school.

When she first started, some of her classmates and teachers didn’t believe she was Bucky’s daughter. (Y/n) and Bucky had chosen an extremely protected private school for the same reason, they didn’t want someone else telling P about the Winter Soldier, not before she was old enough to understand. 

After the first tear dropped from Peanut’s eyes, when she told her dad no one at school believed her, you best believe Bucky picked her up every single day. He would often take off his jacket as soon as he got to her school just so everyone would shut their mouths. No one was to make his little girl cry, ever. 

(Y/n) turned to the bar behind her and ordered a glass of champagne. 

“Do you think he’s actually going to come?” One of the women next to (Y/n) asked her friends. 

“Honey, if he does, you gals better take out a loan because that man is going home with me.” An older woman laughed into her drink.

“A recently divorced hunk? Sign me up. I don’t need the full day, just a couple of hours with him and it’ll be enough.” Another one said.

(Y/n) cringed at their words. She obviously has eyes, she knew what her ex-husband looked like but did people have to talk about him like he was just a piece of meat? 

The whole room suddenly got quiet. (Y/n) looked left and right to see what had happened and it wasn’t long until she found out. Bucky strolled into the room. 

He did not. (Y/n) thought.

Bucky was wearing the tuxedo he wore at their wedding. The black-on-black combination made him look even more mysterious than he already was. But every ounce of his dark persona disappeared once he heard the two magic words.

“Hi Daddy!” Peanut came running towards Bucky at full speed. With a small umph Bucky picked up his daughter and twirled her around. 

“Hello princess.” Bucky smiled, melting for his sweet little girl. “Why don’t you tell me where mommy is?”

Peanut pointed a chubby finger towards (Y/n) and she held up her champagne glass, the murmurs and gasps of the women next to her didn’t go unnoticed. 

Bucky placed Peanut back on the floor and set his eyes on (Y/n), it was like everything and everyone around him became blurry. He could only see her. 

“You’re late.” (Y/n) looked up at him. 

“I’m the talent, I am never late.” Bucky smiled at her, the kind of smile that made women all over the world want to drop to their knees, for various reasons. 

(Y/n) laughed, pushing Bucky away with her left hand. Bucky took her hand in his and brought it to his lips, kissing the spot on her third finger where her ring used to sit.  

“You look radiant.” Bucky came closer to (Y/n) placing a kiss on the corner of her mouth. 

She took in his intoxicating smell, it had been forever since she’d been this close to him. (Y/n) took a deep breath, the memories coming to life again. But before she could get lost in the past, the present came into view. 

(Y/n) cleared her throat and took a step back before turning to the women gawking next to them. “Ladies, may I introduced you to my ex-husband, James?” 

Bucky rolled his eyes and turned to them, a forced smile playing on his lips.

(Y/n) slipped from the group with a light laugh and sat down at her table, the auction about to start. 

It wasn’t long before Bucky’s category came up, women desperate to cheat on their husbands without actually doing it. (Y/n) smiled cheekily as she saw Bucky fidget on the stage, the bright lights made him feel like he was a show horse. 

“Mr. Barnes was kind enough to auction a day with an Avenger, the winner of this would spend the day at the Avengers Compound and meet some of the people responsible for our safety!” Peanut’s principal spoke into the microphone.

“I can’t assure a tour of the compound.” Bucky’s raspy voice said through the speakers. 

“We’ll see the details later.” The principal waved him off. “How about we start the bidding at four hundred dollars?”

“Five hundred.” A woman way too old to be with Bucky, and that’s taking into consideration that he’s over a hundred years old, raised her bid card. 

“Six hundred.” Another woman said. 

“Seven hundred.” A third spoke.

Bucky’s eyes kept getting bigger and bigger, he hadn’t considered the fact that women would actually bid to be with him. He turned to (Y/n) with pleading eyes.

“Mommy, aren’t you gonna bid on daddy?” P asked her. 

“Honey-“ (Y/n) was about to explain how for some people spending a day with her Dad would be the experience of a lifetime, when one of the women she heard speaking so vulgarly about Bucky raised her card. 

“One thousand dollars.” The woman had a smug look on her face. 

“Going once-“ The principal said. 

“Mommy do something.” Peanut whispered. 

“Going twice.” Bucky threw his head back. Fuuck. He thought. 

“Go-“

“Two thousand dollars.” (Y/n) raised her card. 

Bucky’s head snapped forward at the sound of her voice. His scowl turned into a smile. 

“Sold, to the lady in the back.” The principal’s eyes just about turned into dollar signs.

- 

“I didn’t get the chance to thank you.” Bucky whispered, hiking Peanut’s body up. At some point in the night she had fallen asleep and now her father was carrying her to (Y/n)’s car. 

(Y/n) waved her hand. “It was nothing. I couldn’t let you spend a day with that hornets’ nest. She would’ve eaten you alive. 

“Still- thank you.” Bucky’s kind eyes were one of the first things that drew (Y/n) to him, the same shade he now shared with his daughter.  

(Y/n) unlocked her car so he could strap Peanut in. 

“So, when should I pick you up?” Bucky opened (Y/n)’s door so she could get in. 

Her eyebrows furrowed. “Oh, about the auction thing. You don’t have to do that, I’m sure you’re going to be busy.”

“How’s next Thursday at 8 sound? We can take P to school and I’ll give you an extremely memorable ‘Day with an Avenger’.” Bucky’s smooth words coated her heart.

“I’ve already had a couple of ‘Days with an Avenger’ and they haven’t been that memorable.” She teased.

“I can think of a couple of memorable days where you would beg-“

(Y/n) clamped her hand over Bucky’s mouth. “You can’t say that!”

“Would I be lying?” Bucky’s muffled voice said proudly.

“I’ll see you next Thursday.” (Y/n) rolled her eyes with a smile. “Please don’t be late.”

“Promise.”

-

The doorbell rang at 7:50 am on Thursday. 

“Be careful Peanut!” (Y/n) yelled as she opened the door. “Don’t fall from the stool! I don’t really feel like visiting the hospital right now.”

She huffed as she opened the door. Mornings were always chaotic but now, without another pair of helping hands it felt impossible. But here he was. 

Bucky stood at the other side of the door, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. A bouquet of her favorite flowers on one hand and balancing two coffees on the other. 

“Good morning.” Bucky placed a soft kiss on her cheek. “Need help with anything?”

(Y/n) stepped aside with her jaw on the floor, letting Bucky come inside. 

“Hiya Daddy!” Peanut beamed, shoving another forkful of French toast in her mouth. 

“How’s my number one girl doing this morning?” Bucky asked, placing a kiss on the top of her head. 

(Y/n) stepped into the kitchen, feeling like she’d walked into another dimension. 

“Sorry doll, you’ve been bumped down to the number two spot.” Bucky winked at (Y/n) and her eyebrows shot up. “You still keep the vases on the top cupboard?” 

(Y/n) slowly nodded, the shocked expression never left her. 

Definitely an alternate dimension, it’s the only explanation. She thought. 

Drop off was perfect and the ride to the compound was actually pleasant. 

“You got a new car.” (Y/n) hummed, looking around Bucky’s new SUV. 

He nodded proudly. “I can’t ride around on a bike forever. Plus, you asked me to get a car.”

“I asked you to get a car over a year ago.” She snorted. 

Bucky shrugged, the relaxed smile on his lips never faltered. “Took me a while but I got it.”

(Y/n) eyed her ex-husband curiously. Fresh haircut, cologne, pressed t-shirt. New car, more present. Something changed. “Okay, who is she?”

“Who’s who?” Bucky’s forehead creased.

(Y/n) rolled her eyes. “I’m not a child, you can tell me who she is.”

“If you’re trying to say I’m dating someone, I’m not.” Bucky looked a little offended.

“I never said anything about dating.” (Y/n) laughed. “You can get some without making it official.”

“I’m not doing that either.” Bucky grumbled, his grip on the steering wheel made his knuckles white.

“I’m sorry for asking. I didn’t know you not getting any was a sore subject.” She held her hands up in surrender and laughed. “You do know you can do that right? I’m pretty sure the papers we signed mean that we’re no longer together, meaning you can have se-“

Bucky’s groan interrupted her, he ran his palm through his face. “Can we not talk about my sex life please? I actually have a nice day planned, and it doesn’t include this topic of conversation.”

“You. Have a day planned.” She emphasized the words. 

“Please feel free make me sound more like an asshole.” Bucky chuckled. 

And what a day did he have planned. 

It started by taking her to the newly renovated Avengers Museum on the compound. Bucky showed (Y/n) a few never before seen pictures of himself from the 40’s. 

“The investigators dug these up.” He smiled. 

“You were a baby!” She laughed, posing for a picture next to the blown-up print of him.

“You think Peanut will look like me when she’s a little bit older?” Bucky came up behind her, resting his head on hers and tossing his arms over her shoulders. 

(Y/n) relaxed into his body. “You want her to look more like you? She’s basically your twin.” 

His laugh made her whole body vibrate. “What can I say? We should have tried to get a boy after P, maybe he would look like you.”

Afterwards came a late lunch by the lake followed by a tour of the new wing dedicated to Steve Rogers. Bucky had thought of everything. He asked Sam to pick up Peanut from school and make sure she did her homework, took a bath and brushed her teeth before going to bed. 

The sun was setting as Bucky drove (Y/n) home, he rested his hand on the center console hoping she would take it. It wasn’t long until she intertwined their fingers. 

Bucky opened her side of the door and helped her down. (Y/n) leaned on his car. 

“Thank you for a lovely day.” She smiled. “Don’t know if it was worth 2k but, I had an amazing time.”

Bucky fake gasped, clutching the left side of his chest. “You don’t think I’m worth two thousand measly dollars?”

“Some of us actually have to work to get two thousand dollars, not just pose around and look cute.” She bit the inside of her cheek to stop a smile from forming.

Bucky stepped closer to her. “Well I would pay you way more than that to pose around for me. You already have the cute thing down to a T.”

He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, dragging his knuckles against her cheek and stopping at her lips. Bucky pulled her closer to him and placed his lips on hers. At first it was soft but once his brain registered what was happening, it turned dark and hungry. It was like he was running out of oxygen and the only thing that could breathe life into him was her kiss. 

With a gasp, she pushed him away.

“What are you doing?” (Y/n) asked breathlessly, bringing her fingers to her throbbing lips. 

“(Y/n), please.” Bucky sighed. “I want you, I need you. And I’m not talking about stupid sex, I’m talking about you. Talking to you every day, telling me off for things I do or don’t do, I want us. Together.”

Her eyebrows creased, she felt her body heat up with rage. “What makes you think you can kiss me like that? Like nothing’s ever happened. Like you’ve forgotten we’re not together anymore.”

“Please.” Bucky’s crystal blue eyes reddened. “Do you want me to get on my knees? Because I’ll do it. I’m begging you, please take me back. I want to be with you, forever.”

(Y/n) sniffled, tears of her own threatening to fall. “I’m not falling for this, not again. I’m about to finish mending my broken heart, I’ve just finished putting the pieces back together and for you to come here and-“

“I’m trying-“ Bucky cried. “I’m really trying to show you that I’ve changed.”

(Y/n) let out a dry laugh. “Does going to one gala and buying a car mean you’ve changed? I asked you to buy that thing for a whole year and you never even thought about it.”  

“But I’m doing it now, does that mean anything?” Bucky asked with saddened eyes.

“Yes, it means that you only want me because you can’t have me.”

“That’s not-“ He tried to argue but she turned towards her door. 

“Thank you for the nice day James but, I have to go to my real life. The one in which we’re still divorced and you have to leave for some undisclosed amount of time to a classified location. Do you remember? Your reallife.” (Y/n) opened her front door, thanking Sam for taking care of Peanut. 

Bucky was left on the driveway with tears running down his cheek. 

Part 3 here!

Hi hii! I've tagged everyone who commented Pt2 on my first fic and reblogged! <3 Hope you guys like it, if you do remember to like reblog and comment! I'll love you forever if you do <3

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Hi hiiii This is part of my 1k Celebration, if you like this please be sure to look at the Bingo Card and ask for a prompt! Love y'all <33

And you can find the Bingo master list and what prompts are still available here!

[orions-athenaeum]

From Your Smile to Your Soul

Bucky Barnes x F!Enchanced!reader

Synopsis: You don't want to go on this mission and Bucky doesn't want the girl whose smile brings him happiness getting hurt. But what can either of you do when your job is to heal others? If only you had told him that you weren't ok, if only he had made sure you were right behind him.

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: angst, language, drinking, mentions of guns/injury/blood, hypothermia, asshole SHIELD agents, Bucky gets teary eyed, happy fluff-filled ending...

-I do not consent to having any of my writing, under the username Orions- Athenaeum, translated, posted or published on third party sites, apps or platforms-

Bucky didn’t think there was anything worth enjoying in his new life. Of course he appreciated Steve’s unwavering loyalty and the ease that he brought Bucky after he was freed from Hydra. There was also Sam’s annoying banter which usually gave Bucky something to smirk about, but he would never admit that to anyone. When Bucky didn’t understand what a text message was, Wanda and Natasha helped him adapt to the technological wonders of this modern time. He was even glad when Tony would crack an “old joke” just to get under his skin, because Bucky knew humor was Tony’s way of showing he cared. While Bucky was grateful for everything his teammates did for him, there was still a very obvious void, that felt almost like a ten ton weight sitting on his chest, trying to steal his breath from him. That feeling of immense pressure and simultaneous emptiness only began to lessen about four months ago, on a balmy summer evening when Steve dragged Bucky to one of Tony’s lavish galas.

Bucky didn’t know who or what the event was for, in all honesty he figured Tony was just looking for another excuse to throw a party. The former Winter Soldier had been a part of the team for a while now, but these types of social gatherings never failed to make him feel extremely unsettled. Maybe it was the way he felt people’s eyes lingered on him for too long, whether it was from fear or judgment. Or maybe it was that the suit Natasha had helped him pick out was nearly suffocating him. It could have also been the glass filled with some unknown booze that felt uncomfortably heavy in his vibranium hand. All this to say, Bucky was certain the tension in his shoulders was palpable as he checked his watch for the thirtieth time that evening; he was waiting for the hands to tell him he had waited a respectful amount of time before he could seek out the comfort of his own room. Bucky reluctantly pulled his eyes up from his watch and began to scan the room, hoping to find Steve and with him some sense of calmness. His search was cut short when his gaze landed on a girl chatting with Peter near the bar. She had short y/h/c hair that reminded him of a girl from his own time, messier and not as curled perhaps, but classic nonetheless. Her long, black, strapless dress and sleek platform heels reminded him of something Natasha might have worn. He wondered for a second if maybe Nat had helped her pick out an outfit too. Deciding that was an utterly ridiculous thought a second later, Bucky found himself enamored by her smile. It was all he could focus on: that beautiful, perfect smile. One corner of her mouth curved up more than the other and her full red painted lips made it impossible for Bucky to look away. Seconds felt like hours and as Bucky continued to look at her, he found a smile involuntarily tugging at his own lips. Amazingly enough, he didn’t feel so out of place anymore.

“It’s rude to stare.” Bucky quickly jerked his head towards Sam’s voice. His smile immediately faded as he glared at his friend. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Wilson.” Even Bucky didn’t believe his words and chances were Sam didn’t either. Despite being a pain in the ass, he was smarter and more observant than Bucky liked to give him credit for. Sam rolled his eyes and ignored Bucky’s hint to drop the topic. 

“Why don’t you go and ask her to dance?” Bucky couldn’t breathe. There was no way in hell he could do that. Standing across the room was the prettiest girl he’d seen and Sam thought it would be a good idea for him to ask her for a dance. 

“Yeah that will not be happening.” Bucky tossed back the rest of the liquid in his glass, knowing that the pleasant burn of the alcohol would not affect him in the slightest. He wished it would. Maybe a little liquid courage was the push he needed to go over and speak to her. 

“Look man, she’s gorgeous and really sweet, I met her this morning. All I’m saying is that she would totally say yes if you asked. She was staring at you too, by the way.” This morning. Bucky recalled Sam telling him he met a new member of the team earlier that morning. Maybe he would have the chance to see her again if she was the one Sam was referring to. Shaking his head to extinguish any false hope he had conjured up, Bucky realized that Sam was telling the truth; the girl was staring right back at him. After a few seconds, she raised her delicate fingers and sent a small wave. Bucky almost keeled over on the spot. Not knowing what else to do, he awkwardly raised his own hand back. She smiled. He smiled. And just like that Bucky knew he was a goner.  

Four months later…

“No.” Bucky refused to change his mind. Steve rolled his eyes at his friend, who currently stood across the room with his arms crossed over his chest with a look that said, this is your final warning. Steve knew better than to try and push his best friend around, but this really was a mission that required her skills. There were dozens of hostages, and they would need medical attention. Not from doctors, but from her. 

“Buck. You know I wouldn’t put Y/n in the field if I didn’t think it was absolutely necessary.” Bucky did not move. Steve sighed. And people call me stubborn. He thought to himself. 

“I understand that you want to protect her Bucky, I really do. But she is a part of this team. Y/n’s an Avenger and her role is to heal people. Now, there are people who need her help and she is going to go and help them. If you would prefer not to lead this mission than I can have someone else take-”

“No.” Bucky was quick to cut off Steve’s offer. His tone was firm, but just below the surface Bucky was panicking. He didn’t want his girl out in the field. But if Y/n had to go, he couldn’t stand the thought of not being out there with her. Steve raised a brow. 

“I’ll go. But you better make sure there is no way we’re gonna get ambushed. We’d better be prepared. I won’t hesitate to beat your ass if something happens to Y/n.” Bucky turned to leave the conference room as Steve muttered something under his breath. 

“What?” Bucky snapped. 

“I just said it seems like you care about Y/n an awful lot when she isn’t even your girlfriend.” Bucky knew Steve was trying to get him to admit that he was too scared to ask her out. But honestly, Bucky wasn’t in the mood for his best friend to play matchmaker. So, without a look back, he stormed out into the corridor towards the gym. He was set on taking his anger and fear out on some punching bags, but as he walked through the halls all he could think about was her smile. He needed that smile safe. If he could just wrap it in his arms and shield it from all the bad, he would be happy for the rest of his life. 

————————————————————————

You were certain there had to have been some kind of mistake. The thick Manila folder that sat on your desk marked “MISSION BRIEFING” had to have been delivered to the wrong room. Bucky was just across the hall, so maybe it was for him. That had to be it, because there was no way they were seriously considering putting you out in the field after only four months of being on the team. You weren’t even supposed to be a field agent. Nick Fury had recruited you because of your powers. Sure, you could mend a broken bone and fuse a gunshot wound close, but that did not mean you fought on the front lines. It meant you waited until your team was back to the safety of the compound to help them. Refusing to open the folder you picked it up and made your way to Bucky’s door. 

“Buck?” You called as you knocked on the cool wood. You gasped as it opened not a second later. Bucky was standing in front of you in all his post gym, sweaty, shirtless glory.

“Hey, doll. What’s up?” He asked with a smirk tugging at his lips. That damned smirk. You immediately drew your gaze away from his tight abs and pretty smile up to his eyes. Which, honestly, didn't help because you found yourself getting lost in a sea of  deep cerulean blue. It seemed that every aspect of Bucky had an overwhelming effect on you. Deciding it was best to stare at the carpet instead, you fumbled with the folder before showing it to him. 

“I think they gave this to me by accident, because I’m not usually in the field. Actually I’ve never been in the field and so it’s probably yours and I just wanted to give it to you.” Your words came out all in one breath and you kept your gaze focused on the floor at your feet. You felt Bucky gently take the folder from your grasp. You were ready to let out a sigh of relief when you felt his fingers thread through your own as he lightly pulled you into his room. As your heart beat began to quicken, the brief confusion you had felt quickly morphed into anxiety. Why didn’t he just take his mission briefing and send you on your merry way? He gestured for you to sit down on his bed as he sat next to you. 

“No, this is yours.” He finally said. The finality in his tone made you want to throw up. “Steve told me this morning. But I made him promise that there would be no combat, and I’ll be leading. There will be two other agents, so you’re not alone. The mission should be fairly quick, in and out and then we come home. I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.” His words were somewhat of a comfort. You also knew that the rest of the team was fairly confident in your abilities, since Nat, Sam and Steve had all trained extensively with you over the last four months. Bucky refused to spar with you but that's besides the point. Although, you weren’t really worried about not being able to defend yourself. You had been trained and ran through mission scenarios, but the weight of the briefing envelope in your hands was making this too real. It also didn’t help that every single agent wanted to rip you apart because you were given a spot on the Avengers without making it into SHIELD as an agent. You had tried to put yourself through training, but during your first field test, you instantly choked. All of the sudden the gun pointed at the enemy agent in front of you made your arms feel like lead. Your brain wouldn’t let you pull the trigger, so you stood there, frozen. You were positive you were going to be removed from the program, but when Nick Fury heard about your healing powers, you were suddenly offered a spot as an Avenger. So, to put it plainly, every single SHIELD agent hated you. They hated that you failed training and still got the most coveted title, they hated that you lived in Avengers Tower, they hated that you got everything they wanted. The real problem, which was much bigger than any jealous agent’s spiteful remarks, was that you could not stomach the idea of hurting someone. That was the reason why you failed your training in the first place, because bad guy or not, you were given the gift of healing. You were never supposed to cause pain and it seemed as if the concept of harming someone was against your very nature. Pulling the trigger on a paper silhouette was one thing. Aiming a gun at another human being was quite another. So while the training you had done prepared you for taking down enemies, you’re not entirely sure you could bring yourself to that. 

“Ok.” Was all you could manage. Some time during your internal spiral Bucky had begun rubbing soothing circles on your back. Bucky was another aspect of this assignment that you had to consider. You weren’t sure how to feel about him going on the mission with you. Your relationship was a little confusing at times to say the least. You knew that you cared about him more than a friend would and he often made it seem like he felt the same way. You had felt this way from the very first night you met him, when he caught you staring at him and you awkwardly waved (who the hell waves at a hot guy across the room?) Bucky was also the first one to make you feel like you were truly part of the team. He would bring your breakfast to the lab when you were working mornings and didn’t have time to eat, he would make sure you had a good spot on the couch for team movie nights (it was coincidentally always next to him) and then there were time like these where he would comfort you and do everything in his power to make you feel safe and cared for. Basically, in the four months that you had known him, you were falling in love with Bucky Barnes. 

“Ok, what, doll?” And those stupid pet names definitely weren’t helping you keep your feelings at bay. 

“Ok. Sounds good, I guess I’ll see you at the hangar in a few hours.” You replied, unwilling to meet his eyes, you slowly picked up the folder and walked towards his door. An unnerving feeling overcame you as you heard the heavy wood close behind you. 

————————————————————————

     You figured the mission would not be a walk in the park, and as you sat in the middle of Siberia, with two agents that hate you and hostages with far more injuries than Steve had anticipated, you knew this easily made your “Top Ten Worst Days list.” Of course you were more than happy to help every hostage, that was the only part you enjoyed. However, the  amount of energy it took to heal so many injuries resulted in black dots clouding your vision by the time you had helped the last hostage. The thing about your healing abilities was that you had to use your energy to heal others. Meaning healing their injuries literally exhausts you. And on top of the twenty broken bones, abrasions and burns you’ve healed, Megan and Nick had a few bumps and bruises from breaking down the door and restraining the guards that needed mending. According to Megan, Bucky told them to go to you since they need to be in top shape for the trek back to the safe house. While the safe house sounded pleasant, the fact that it was currently 40 below and that the shelter was three miles out in the middle of a forest, was not as pleasant. After you finished healing Megan’s bruised ankle, the dizziness that had settled in a few minutes prior was now overwhelming. If you could just sit down for a few minutes and maybe close your eyes, you would feel much better. 

“Get up. We need to meet Bucky in a few minutes. A storm is moving in so we can’t take the jet back until morning. Bucky secured the hostages in an exit raft and we need to find the safehouse soon.” Megan sneered as she pushed your hands away from her ankle. 

“Could I just have one minute? I’m not feeling-”

“You’re an Avenger, right? So get off your ass and start walking.” You hesitantly stood up, apparently too quickly because you began swaying and lurched forward, catching yourself against a tree. The frozen bark cut into your skin, slicing your palms. Willing your head to stop spinning you looked down at your bloodied hands. Another downside of your powers was that once your energy had been spent, it became nearly impossible for you to continue healing, which meant you could not help yourself or others when you were this exhausted. You heard Megan’s boots crunch in the snow as she began to walk, blatantly ignoring your compromised state. Since it appeared you had no other option, you began walking as well, but the edges of your vision were fuzzy and it felt like someone had thrown your head against a wall. If you could just get to Bucky maybe he would let you rest for a minute. No. You couldn’t ask him for that, Megan and Nick already thought you got special treatment for being an Avenger you didn’t need them to see parts of yours and Bucky’s friendship in the field. Plus, Bucky had been acting weird ever since you stepped foot on the quinjet. He called you by your last name and his usual soft eyes and teasing tone had left him completely. It made sense, you told yourself as you pushed forward, because this was his job, and he didn’t really care about you like that. The frigid chill had begun to seep through your suit, and though you had never been a huge fan of the cold, you were thankful for it now. It was keeping you awake and alert, the sting of the snow hitting your face gave you something to focus on so you wouldn’t pass out. Finally you reached the clearing where Bucky was waiting. You glanced up to find his concerned gaze looking you over. You used all your strength to muster up a smile and nodded your head to let him know you were ok. He seemed satisfied enough, and told the team to start walking.

How you managed to walk two miles you weren’t sure, but what you did know was that you were now falling behind the others. You were following Nick and Megan who had been keeping a fairly even pace with Bucky. But now, with the snow whipping all around you, you couldn’t see or hear any of them. Maybe this would be a good time to take a break. It would only be for a few minutes and nobody would notice that you had taken a breather. As the snow storm had progressed you had lost feeling in your fingers and toes, and it seemed like everything was moving in slow motion. You thought you reached out to brace yourself on a tree but instead you felt like you were falling. It didn’t hurt when you hit the powdery snow, its cold embrace only called you to rest your eyes. You obeyed and felt your eyelids slowly blink shut. I’ll only rest for a minute, you told yourself. Just as you were about to let sleep pull you under, you heard shouting. The voice sounded familiar as it called your name over the howling of the wind. You knew you should answer but you simply didn’t have the energy. Then, you felt strong arms lift you up and a familiar fresh, piney scent filled your nose. This is what Bucky smells like, you thought to yourself. 

“Could you open those pretty eyes for me. Please, doll. I’m begging you, give me anything.” 

Bucky sounded like he was talking underwater. 

“You are not allowed to do this to me, I swear I’ll make it up to you but you gotta wake up so we can talk.” And why did he seem so worried? You wanted to tell him that you were fine but you couldn’t get the words out. 

“Why wouldn’t you say something?” Bucky’s muddled voice had more of an edge this time. His sharp tone made sense, he had every right to be mad at you, it was you who was slowing down the mission and now he had to pick up the slack. 

“I didn’t see her fall behind, she was fine a minute ago.” This time it was a woman who responded and somewhere in your mind you figured it was Megan. But you hadn’t been “fine a minute ago,” in fact you hadn’t felt ok for over an hour. 

“You’re supposed to watch out for your teammates, so I’m going to ask again, why the hell did you not say something?” In your dazed state you realized Bucky was directing his anger at Megan not at you and well you felt some reprieve from the fact that Bucky didn’t seem too disappointed in you, you were beginning to slip further and further into the shadows of sleep. You knew you needed to stay awake, but you couldn’t feel anything, not the snow hitting your cheeks, or Bucky’s frantic pace, and your entire body felt completely numb. Time began to pass strangely after that moment, you heard some more gargled shouting before you felt your body being laid down on something hard. You found some odd burst of energy and forced your eyelids to open, looking up to find Bucky’s worried eyes desperately trying to hold your gaze. His eyes seemed glossier and much more concerned than normal, but you couldn’t figure out why. “C’mon Y/n, I’ll get you warm and you’ll be alright. I’m gonna have to get your wet gear off first, but I promise I’ll make it all better ok, sweetheart? I love you too much to let go now.” Love? Why would Bucky be talking about love, he seemed so frustrated with you in the field. His face disappeared from view a moment later and you thought you heard the sound of fabric ripping. Bucky yelled for someone to get blankets and before you could tell him that all his shouting was confusing and much too loud, you surrendered yourself to the peaceful comfort of unconsciousness. 

You didn’t know when you became aware of your surroundings again, whether it had been minutes or weeks, you couldn’t tell. You could smell burning wood accompanied by a familiar piney scent that you soon identified as Bucky, but you couldn’t open your eyes to confirm your theory. When you heard a deep voice laced with a Brooklyn accent from somewhere around you, you didn’t have to look at Bucky to know whose arms were protecting you.

“...Remember when we were in Queens and you made me go inside that old book store with you? We stayed there until they closed and you kept handing me books that would, “change your life, I swear it, Bucky.” I didn’t like reading much in the forties but I woulda stayed there with you for weeks if it meant I got to see that smile of yours every time you read something funny. I’ll take you back there but you gotta wake up first, alright?” Bucky’s words were soothing, and his soft voice gently lulled you back to sleep before you could answer his request.   

Bucky was talking again when you tried to wake up for a second time, 

“...Everything about you is perfect, doll, like how you always scrunch your nose when Sam’s cooking looks awful, but you eat it anyway with a smile on your face because you’re just happy he cared enough to make you something.” You wanted to smile for Bucky, open your mouth, say anything. But your head was still too heavy and you couldn’t break through the cloud of sleep that kept dragging you back under.

This time you could feel warmth running up and down your arms, as if someone was trying to coax you from sleep with their caring touch. You waited for Bucky to talk to you again, you found yourself needing his words to anchor you to consciousness.

“...You should’ve told me sooner, sweetheart, I coulda carried you, given you a little break. You know I would do just about anything for you right? Hell, I think everyone on this damn team thinks I’m weak when it comes to you. But you don’t make me weak, Y/n, you give me a reason to smile, you make me feel better about the world and like I’m not too broken to be a part of it…” You wanted to take Bucky’s face in your hands and tell him that he was not broken, that he was worth more than your words would ever mean. But it still seemed like too much work to open your eyes, so you kept them shut and let your mind slip back into sleep for a little longer. 

————————————————————————

Your skin felt like it was on fire, that was the first thing you noticed when you fully regained consciousness. Something heavy was laying across your stomach and there was a solid presence holding you that seemed to radiate the same amount of heat as the crackling fire in front of you. 

“Y/n? Doll? Thank God you’re finally awake, how’re you feeling?

At the sound of his voice you slowly turned to face Bucky and were met with a look of adoration in those blue eyes, which made you feel even worse for making him take care of you. 

“I’m sorry I messed the mission up, Barnes.” Even though your sight was still a little blurry you could make out the confusion in his face. Pushing some hair out of your face he asked, 

“You never call me Barnes, what’s up with that Y/n/n? And what are goin’ on about, “messing up the mission,” you didn’t do a damn thing wrong. If Megan and Nick had done their jobs as teammates you wouldn’t be in this situation. It’s my fault too ya know, I should've checked you over before I made you walk three miles. You looked a little tired when I first saw you but I think I tricked myself into believing you were safe, all I ever want is for you to be safe, Y/n.” You weren’t quite sure how to answer him, your brain felt like quicksand, trapping your thoughts from becoming words.

“And you never answered my question, Y/n, you feelin’ better?” You nodded slowly, during the time you had been asleep your body had slowly heated up, you had regained feeling in your limbs and your mind was feeling less foggy by the minute.

“Thanks for getting me out of there, Bucky. I mean, it’s not like I needed your help, I just wanted to sleep for a few minutes.” You attempted to lighten the mood by pushing out a laugh that sounded more like a light exhale. 

“There she is, that’s the girl I love.” You whipped your head back with such force that Bucky had to place his hand on your neck to prevent you from giving yourself whiplash. You stared into his eyes, determined to find out if he was really speaking the truth. 

“I do love you Y/n, I have from the minute I caught you smiling at Tony’s stupid gala. You’re perfect to me, in every possible way, from your smile to your soul.” Of course you felt the same way for him. Bucky was your best friend, he made you laugh and his heart and the care that he gave out freely never ceased to amaze you. You watched his lips turn into the most perfect smile  and you found yourself smiling twice as big knowing that there was no moment in your life more wonderful than this one. Right before you could respond a shiver ran through you and Bucky turned you around so you were facing the fireplace again. 

“Hey, Bucky?” you received a low hum and a kiss behind your ear in response. “You should really shower, you smell like an old barn.” He chuckled and replied, “Jeez, doll, I save your life and tell you that I love you, and all you do is tell me that I smell?” You could tell that Bucky knew you were teasing, but you didn’t feel like letting him off the hook quite yet. 

“I guess I love you too.” You mumbled with an obvious grin in your voice. 

“I know you do doll, I only wish you had said something sooner, then I woulda had more opportunities to torture you for makin’ fun of me.” With that, Bucky began to tickle your stomach, while still being wary of your injuries, earning an eruption of giggles from your mouth. After a few seconds Bucky pulled you back against him and whispered a soft, “sleep, sweet girl, I’ve got you,” into your hair. Your eyes slowly fell shut and you felt completely content, knowing you were safe in the arms of the man who loved you, and who you loved right back. 

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Mermaid au where Danny gets thrown into another dimensions ocean and turned into a mer. Unbeknownst to him, the batfam meets a similar fate a month later and crash into the ocean. They have a much harder time adjusting to thier new bodies and have to make adjustments for the new watery environment. Meaning they had to ditch most of thier gear in a hidden location until they found a way to return to thier human forms (not that thier pants will ever be of use again lol)

They swim to the surface to talk and hopefully come up with a plan, which is difficult due to the new set of sharp teeth some of them had. It was obvious most of them were different types of mer. All of them had scales, fins and scaly arms from thier elbows to thier very sharp/ claws. Tim was all black with a dull and unnoticeable red tent to the tip of his claws and sharp edges to his fins. It didn't take a lot to prove he was poisonous.

Cass was very brightly colored to her surprise. Her tail was colored like a sunset and she looked the least threatening of the group and the most like a traditional mermaid.

Stephanie was overjoyed to be her favorite color! Her purple scales came in coordinated patches throughout her body, like a sort of armor. Her stomach, upper back, elbows and knuckles all had the thick hard scales decorating them. It was clear her species was made for combat.

Bruce and Damian looked largely the same with the difference being thier colors. They had claws like Tim, but no sharped fins or poison.

Dick looked the least like a mer out of all of them. His tail was long and thick, his fins were small but flexible which allowed him to be fast and limber in the water, doing loops and flips in a blur of blue and black. He was having an absolute ball.

Jason was the...shiniest of the group. His orange, red and gold scales glistened in any amount of light and attracted fish to them that would be immediately adopted by Damian. Jason quickly grew annoyed at all the fish coming to peck at his scales and started coating himself in mud...that would just fall off due to the smoothness of his scales. He was not having a great time.

Danny was lovely. He had long flowing fins like that of a beta fish sprouting all over his tail. His body looked like it was swathed in inky black silks at all times. This, combined with the scales on his arms ruching up to his mid biceps made him feel like a lady at one of those galas Sam hated so much. He felt pretty. His past experience flying through the sky with his ghostly tail was much appreciated now that he had to figure out this mess of scales and muscle.

His Phantom form was much the same, except he was entirely white and glowed like a star in the dark of the ocean, leaving him feeling (and looking) like a bride on thier wedding day. His friends could never find out about this or the teasing would never end.

Danny came into contact with this pod of mer a few days after they arrived. They were racing towards him while he was in his Phantom form, which wasn't unusual for fish, but mer? He had never made contact with any of the other mer unless one came up to him to flirt or try to kill him for being too close to thier territory.

Deciding to err on the side of caution, Danny kept turning invisible whenever he saw them coming his way. It wasn't too long before the batfam came up with a plan to sneak up on the other mer. They sent Tim, the most well defended and darkest colored of them to talk to him and maybe get some answers. Or at least directions.

Things went wrong almost immediately. Phantom flared his fins the moment Tim tapped his shoulder and caught him in the silky appendages. What no one realized was that his fins weren't made of cartilage or whatever, but were genuinely made of thin, strong muscle for capturing prey. Toxins filled Tim's body leaving his body to go slack in the others hold, and Danny was wounded by the razor edge of Tim's fins as Tim's own poison entered Dannys veins.

Everyone was panicking.

[tomboy014]

It seems like a lot of the DP/DC crossovers I’ve seen have Danny either secretly related to Bruce or Damian or Dick, and if he’s not directly related to one of them, Bats is at the ready with adoption papers.  But if it’s a fic where anyone is related, it’s one of the bats related to Danny, but I think there’s a better candidate.  May I present for the Phandom’s consideration:

Sam Manson.

Hear me out!

Bruce and Sam have a lot in common.  They both

Have black hair

Have eyes in the same color family (Bruce and Sam’s parents are blue, Sam’s are purple)

Are both goth

Come from inherited, generational wealth

Are Jewish

Are intelligent and athletic

Will aggressively fight for causes and the change they want to see

And of course, they both fight superpowered entities that should be beyond their capabilities to handle as normal humans.

The timing also works out for Martha and Ida to be sisters.  Out of ease, the kids use the titles of Aunt and Uncle for Bruce, Pamela and Jeremy even though they’re actually cousins. They don’t really see each other that often, mostly for holidays and big events like graduations or Sam’s bat mitzvah. Every so often, they all get together for more formal galas and charity events.

Plus, it makes it so much funnier if these are the “cousins” Sam refuses to babysit.  Can you blame her?  Would you want to be in charge of keeping Tim and Damian from killing each other?  Plus, the interactions between them and the way they relate would be great!

Bruce (43), Dick (26), Jason (21), Cass (19), Steph and Tim (18), Duke (15-16?), Damian (10), Sam (14)

Dick:  Is the perky ball of sunshine Pamela wishes Sam could be, and she get compared to him a lot.  Sam can’t stand him.  Dick has never seen Sam when her mother isn’t around, so his impression of her is she’s moody and surly.  Doesn’t like being in the middle of their fights or getting his cheeks pinched by Pam every time he comes over.

Jason:  Pamela can’t stand him.  Due to whatever cover story they made up to cover up Jason’s death and return, Pamela is now convinced that he’s some delinquent who’ll wind up a criminal (she’s not entirely wrong?).  Such a shame since he was so sweet as a kid.  His death is what started Sam’s interest in the occult.  Sam’s favorite cousin.  She loves that he’s actually a giant dork and bookworm behind the cool, tough-guy façade.  He keeps Sam well supplied in combat boots.  If they both disappear at a function in Amity Park, they’re probably hanging out at the Skulk n Lurk. 

Tim:  Another problem child according to Pam.  He’s the one who introduced Sam to videogames and Doomed.  Tim changed the Manson’s home theater set-up so they can play videogames on the big screen whenever the Wayne’s come over.  Will go out of his way to piss Pamela off.

Steph and Cass:  Steph doesn’t always come over when the rest of the Wayne’s do, but when she does, she sticks to Cass.  Big sister vibes from them both, scarily insightful, and good listeners.  They’re cool.

Damian:  They have the most shared interests, so you’d think they’d get along, but neither can stand the others’ attitude.  It’s a case of like repelling like.  Sam helped him figure out what kind of vegetarian he wanted to be and gave him a bunch of her favorite recipes.  If the two of them disappear while at Wayne Manor, you can usually find them hanging out with Batcow.

Duke:  The newest addition to the family, Sam is aware of him, but they haven’t met yet.

Part 2

[midnightmayhem13]

hi! do you think you can do something where maria confesses her feelings after seeing r get flirted with by someone? basically a jealous maria confessing her feelings lol

But I love you more

ofc i can, i love this submission! ty and enjoy🩶

maria hill x reader; bff nat, yucky men, hint of angst?, jealous maria❕fluffy at the end

while maria kept a cold and professional composure around everyone, you were her only exception.

around you, she could be maria, not agent hill or commander of shield. she was soft around you, gental and sweet with you.

you two had gotten close ever since you met. you broke her walls and she fell for you. there was something about you that she let herself fall for you. she wanted to love you. you reciprocated the feelings. and while maria was literally the maria hill one of the best spy and agent in the world, she didn't think you liked her back.

but oh was the feeling incredibly mutual. and you would've told her if you weren't just a little bit intimidated by her. you had to admit, she scared you when you first met. but that's exactly why you fell for her. seeing a woman in power was refreshing.

since maria's feelings of you were getting stronger by the day, she grew protective of you. as if you were hers. you both so desperately wanted that to be true but it unfortunately wasn't the truth yet. but she couldn't help it. when sam or any of the guys would flirt with you she'd send them off claiming it was just a coincidence they were needed whenever nat blamed her for getting jealous.

nat was a close friend to both of you. she knew both of you liked the other and encouraged you two to ask eachother out. she wouldn't pry but she was a big supporter of you two.

and you were an incredibly beautiful women. you could have anyone you wanted and maria was aware of that. there was always eyes on you, compliments and flirtatious remarks constantly came your way. maria was just another of your 'admirers'.

little did hill know that she was the only one that could ever have your heart. you wished she would be the one flirting with you or asking you out. you tried to get over her but soon figured it was impossible. she seemed to avoid you when she saw someone flirted with you. was it something you did? your thoughts got the best of you 'does she think i'm a whore?' you shook the idea from your head deciding to do the best you could and try to talk to her.

she couldn't hold a grudge on you for very long. she easily started talking to you again. she never got mad at you. she was jealous. she thought if she avoided you it would go away, it didn't.

tony decided to host a gala. it was an anniversary for the battle of new york. you attended by force but you enjoyed his shenanigans. maria also attended, only after nat told her you would be there.

you looked absolutely stunning to maria. well to everyone there. but you only ever wondered if maria thought you looked good.

you couldn't take your eyes of maria. she looked so so yummy. (yes, yummy, cobie smulders is yummy)

as expected you got hit on by various people, that weren't maria. a few women came up to maria but she was too busy watching you like a hawk to acknowledge their presence.

you politely rejected them saying you weren't interested. most were understanding but there was one man, of course, that didn't understand no.

maria watched you from the bar she was leaning on.

"you're gonna let him sweet talk your girl, hill?" nat asked with a smirk pouring two shots.

"shut it romanoff" maria exhaled, angrily downing the liquid.

her jaw clenched as she watched you. letting out unconscious groans as she watched the drunk man try to make advances on you. she almost broke the shot glass in her hand when his hand went to your hip. she had enough

"cmon mama, have some fun with me tonight" his voice laced with a think accent. he was okay looking, he wasn't your maria though. he was definitely too pushy for your liking either way.

"i said no. get off of me." you shoved him away, you could easily take him right now. you didn't want to cause attention. but when he tried to grind on you to the music, you were tempted to beat the shit out of him.

"get the fuck off of her"

it was none other than your maria. she pulled him from the collar.

"or what bitch?" he challenged. this couldn't end well. at the blink of an eye maria's fist went to his face. easily breaking his nose.

"get out of my sight." maria said angrily, hoping he'd leave before she lost her patience. of course he left, thank god.

maria turned to you, face and body completely softening by the sight of you. anger turning to adoration and worry. "are you okay? did he hurt you?" she worried holding your face with one hand and your hand in the other.

you pushed her off. "why do you care?" you said walking away to the balcony. okay obviously you were in love with her and she was your knight in shining amour, but she chased everyone one away yet never asked you on a date? you couldn't help but get annoyed.

she followed your quick feet. soon standing with you on the balcony.

"what?" maria was confused. did you genuinely want that thing of a man?

"don't protect me like you want me." you said fighting off tears. if she didn't want you why was she fighting anyone else who did. "don't act like you want me"

confusion and sadness was written all over maria face "what the hell are you talking about?" you're all maria ever dreamed of having.

"you chase everyone who flirts with me away but won't ask me on a date! what the hell do you think i'm talking about!" you were mad. how could she play with you like this.

maria froze. you wanted her to ask you on a date? maria never thought her feelings would be reciprocated. she eventually came back to the present. she had hesitated as you yelled and were now waiting for a response. you went to walk away as she didn't respond.

"i'm in love with you god damn it!" you turned, shocked by what you just heard "wha-" " i scare anyone who wants you because i get jealous alright? because i want you! i want to be the one kissing you and holding you at night and come home to you. i can't stand to see anyone flirting with you because that could be me! i'm jealous i cant call you mine."

now it was your turn to freeze and stare. you thought you were dreaming. maria, wanted you?

"hey i'm sorry it all just came out-" maria was cut off by your lips on hers. your all she ever wanted, and she was all you could ever want.

she immediately wrapped her hands around your waist and kissed you desperately. the kiss became heated as she took over.

when air became a problem, you pulled away. her lips chasing yours. your eyes were still closed, lips parted. you giggled, not believing what just happened. maria did the same letting out a breathy laugh. pulling you closer while squeezing your ass. maybe you two were a little tipsy.

"friday at 7 me and you?" maria asked looking at you lovingly.

"obviously hill" you laughed laying you head on her chest. she was tall, taller than you. she smelled elegant and felt warm. she grounded you and held you close.

the morning after she woke up with you in her arms. you really were a miracle to her. she whispered a hushed 'i love you' before placing kisses all over your neck and face. kissing all the marks she left last night.

her arms around your bare waist. hands once again exploring your body and carefully stroking your breast before giving it a soft squeeze.

"morning angel face" she mumbled into your neck as you stirred awake. you turned around and held her neck kissing her softly and deeply. "good morning my love." you teased smiling. scratching her scalp through her hair softly.

maria melted at the sweet name and gesture. making a cute flustered sound and hiding herself in her neck.

you pulled her away holding her head gingerly. pecking her lips once, twice, then three times. she smiled. not being able to believe how lucky she was

"i love you too"

MARIA HILL POOKIE BAE FOREVER✊ she never die. anyways bye🩶

[kvetchinglyneurotic]

I wouldn’t mind hearing your thoughts on the reality tv fic research you’re doing, if you had any thoughts or observations you wanted to share, be they fic-related or otherwise 🌹

So the reality TV fic is really the first chapter/prologue of a longer fic that covers Jamie's reintegration into the team and developing friendship with Sam in the first half of season 2, while also having some complicated feelings about Amsterdam and his time on Lust Conquers All as Sam and Jan rope him into their effort to get the player auction during at the charity gala changed to something less terrible. While I don't necessarily think Jamie's experience on LCA was itself traumatic, the structure of reality dating shows might poke at some sore spots in a way he might not consciously register, same as the auction did in season 1. 

Unhinged ramble on reality TV dating and how it might affect Jamie under the read more:

(My research was mainly focused on Love Island UK, the real-world equivalent of LCA; however, some of the rules, filming practices, ect. are based on industry norms that I don't know for 100% certain apply to this show) 

There are some aspects of the reality TV experience that Jamie would likely be better equipped to handle than most contestants — while the producers do go out and scout people and I gather that some (or possibly most) of them are social media "micro-influencers," one of the main things they tend to struggle with is not only the sudden rise to fame and the volume of criticism that comes with it, but the fact that it's very temporary fame and they have to reintegrate into regular life and a regular job afterwards. Jamie struggles with depression after leaving LCA, but he clearly didn't put the same stock in it as a career move as most contestants do — his depression is tied to his football career (or rather, his temporary lack thereof) and his dad; LCA was primarily a way to get away from James rather than something he was invested in for its own merits or that he likely expected to have much of an impact on his life in the long term.

He also has an advantage when it comes to contract negotiations. Reality TV contracts are extremely extensive and typically involve the contestants waiving the right to sue in the event of... basically any kind of harm (emotional/psychological distress, injury, illness, death, ect), as well as their right to privacy — many shows specify that they have hidden cameras and microphones throughout the entire house, including areas like bedrooms and even bathrooms, and that they can use, edit, ect. anything they record however they want, including frankenbiting, ie cutting together snippets of audio to form sentences that the contestants never actually said — and their contact with the outside world, as contestants aren't allowed to keep their phones or go on social media. They also often tie the contestants to the production company for several months afterwards, which may involve doing public appearances or even restricting activities related to the show (this is less relevant for something like LCA, but American Idol season 2 contracts didn't let contestants sing anywhere outside the show, even at like. private gatherings with friends and family).

I imagine Jamie's contract would include a lot of these same rules, but unlike most contestants, he has an agent (even if we know the agent kind of sucks) who may have gotten him better terms. That being said, based on the way his agent talks about him going on LCA in 2x02, there is a distinct possibility that he signed on as an impulse decision and actually didn't have anyone look over the contract, so really whether or not he had an advantage here depends on how pre-meditated his decision was at the time. Another area where he has an advantage is purely demographic: he's a white man, and reality dating shows have a massive problem with racism and sexism that affects casting, how the contestants are framed once they're on the show, and even voting behaviour. 

Prospective cast members undergo a very thorough vetting process that involves a background check, medical exam, psychological evaluation, and interviews with basically everyone they've ever talked to, it seems like. How effective the psych eval is in rooting out people who are likely to be negatively affected by the show is debatable — I read an interview with a former contestant on the Bachelor who said she suspects she was chosen because she was emotionally fragile after a recent breakup with her fiancé — and they seem to be more geared towards keeping people off the show who are likely to be physically violent with the other contestants. Jamie fits the profile of someone who might be chosen pretty well, actually: he's combative and has a big enough personality to be involved in drama, but he doesn't actually start physical fights. 

Once contestants arrive, their belongings are searched for any contraband alcohol or drugs, as well as clothes with logos from non-sponsor brands. Shows generally don't allow them to keep their phones or other electronics — Love Island contestants have cellphones that they sometimes use to take pictures and where they instructions via text, but these don't appear to be their own personal phones. (Sometimes contestants appear to be posting on social media during the season, but it's actually someone else running their account.) They're also not allowed to leave the villa except on scheduled dates (some shows do allow the contestants out, but they have to ask permission first). This is... kind of creepy, honestly, but I suspect that with James being on Jamie's case the way he was after he came back to Manchester, the lack of contact with the outside world may have been part of what appealed to him.

Life in the villa is very regimented: two producers live there with them and the contestants are told when to eat and when to sleep. This is another area that Jamie might cope with better than the average contestant, since he'd be used to working with nutritionists and generally having many more aspects of his life than the general person planned out, and the dietary restrictions are likely less strict. While conversations aren't scripted, contestants are often told to go to a specific location and to have a conversation with a specific person about a specific topic, which produces the slightly odd effect that, especially in the first couple of episodes, they spent all their time analyzing their relationships/prospective relationships with people they just met and barely know. I suspect this might be part of why it's hard to build sustainable romantic relationships in this environment — obviously communicating about what everyone wants in a relationship is good, but it doesn't allow for the regular conversations that make up most of the process of getting to know and like another person.

Which brings us to: kayfabe. Kayfabe is a wrestling term which refers to the implicit agreement between wrestlers and their fans to act as though the staged performances are authentic. Part of what I suspected tripped Jamie up during his stint on LCA and got him kicked off is that he's... not great at this part. He'd probably have some form of PR training and he has experience doing brand deals, but ultimately footballers don't have to pretend they're doing anything other than trying to win. Reality dating contestants can't say that they're there to build their brand or win the cash prize; the only motivation they can publicly acknowledge (not contractually, just in terms of coming off well to the audience) is finding love, and I suspect that Jamie was maybe a bit more obvious than he should have been about the fact that he approached it as a competition more than as an opportunity to find a relationship, which I don't think he was actually interested in at that point (or at any point, for the aro Jamie truthers among us).

There's also a bit of a tension between the producers' putative goal of capturing authentic reactions and creating certain storylines. The result is that they try to elicit certain reactions during the talking head interviews without stating outright what they want the contestant to say, and I suspect Jamie and the producers would find each other frustrating to deal with given his blunt approach to social interaction and difficulty with subtext and other forms of indirect communication. Similarly, interactions between the contestants — particularly the contestants of opposite genders — are governed by a set of extremely heteronormative social norms in which the contestants reaffirm their relationships through by, for instance, acting jealous or worried when their current partner is talking to another person as a sign that they're serious about the relationship. In addition to just generally not being a sexist dick even in his prick era, he is, again, just not that great with subtext. Ultimately, I think Jamie attracts the public's ire because he's too obvious about the fact that he's approaching LCA as a game to be won — while viewers are generally aware that reality TV is constructed, the contestants acknowledging that damages their popularity.

And now onto the potentially triggering stuff. First up: the alcohol. Most reality dating shows involve a lot of drinking, although instances of light drinking (eg sipping on champaign, drinking beer on dates) are generally more common than heavy drinking like taking shots or the contestants being shown to be very drunk, though it does happen. Some shows have an open bar, while others control the consumption of alcohol more closely and only give the contestants one bottle at a time. Contestants on Love Island are often shown drinking (usually champaign, or at least something in champaign flutes) from what appears to be an open bar, but I'm not sure which approach they actually use. I've seen some former contestants (on The Bachelor, not Love Island) attribute the frequency with which everyone drinks to the fact that they don't really have anything to do besides interact with the other contestants, get involved in drama, and drink — they don't have personal electronics, obviously, but they also aren't allowed to bring books or other forms of entertainment. Jamie does drink in canon and he goes out clubbing with his teammates, but the consistency with which everyone is drinking and the potential pressure to drink more himself as a result might make it feel a bit more fraught, particularly if part of the reason he doesn't remember losing his virginity in Amsterdam is because James forced him to drink.

Second: consent in reality dating shows is... weird. Once they sign the contract and enter the villa, the contestants pushed — though not technically legally required — to engage in various forms of intimacy which in any other situation would be considered pretty clear violations of their consent. Couples are formed unilaterally: in the season of Love Island that I watched (season 8), the initial couples were chosen by the voting public, and couples are re-formed in ceremonies in which, for instance, a newly arrived man choses between the two single women and the one who isn't chosen is sent home (or vice versa). In essence, only one member of the couple (or neither, in the case of public voting) actually has a say in whether they want to be with the other person. These couples then sleep in the same bed (in a room they share with all the other contestants), and the challenges similarly often involve one contestant choosing another to kiss, offer a lap dance, demonstrate their favourite sexual position, or perform other forms of intimacy (these examples are all from the first challenge of the first episode of season 8). In essence, while the contestants could technically refuse, they probably also wouldn't be on the show for long, and the whole thing is very much built on the presumption of consent to these more "mild" forms of intimacy. 

Other Things: 

Part way through, the men are sent to a different villa where they meet a new set of women, while the women stay at the original villa and meet a new set of men. I imagine the Jamie cheating on Amy with Denise in a hot tub incident probably occurred during something like this. 

For some reason the announcer always calls them "boys" and "girls." He does it for both genders so at least it's not sexist, but I still don't like it. 

If you want to read more about consent in reality TV dating, I found this chapter very interesting: Sreyashi Mukherjee and Dacia Pajé, "'You Can't Force Someone to Want You': Investigating Consent, Tokenism, and Play in Reality Dating Shows," in The Forgotten Victims of Sexual Violence in Film, Television and New Media: Turning to the Margins, ed. Stephanie Patrick and Mythili Rajiva (Palgrave Macmillan) [tried to attach the pdf but I got it through institutional access from my university and it won't let me 😞)

[allandoflimbo]

Never Again | (2)

Pairing// Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Type of story// Multi-Chapter

Bucky and Y/N hate each other. A lot. This isn’t your average enemies to lovers story. This is an enemies and lovers story. It will be dark. There will be sex. 

Never Again masterlist || updated every thursday

Venice, Italy

Bucky looked at himself in the mirror as he put his earpiece in and then tightened his black tie around his neck. 

He can’t remember the last time he wore a suit. 

It was all black, minus his dress shirt which was white. His hair was starting to grow again, but it was still a bit short. 

He had cut it shortly after Asa’s death. 

His jaw clenched and unclenched as his thoughts continued to trace back to her. 

He was in Venice for the gala where he’d meet the person who knew who had this real necklace.  The person who killed Asa was expected to be here, too. Just the thought of being in the same city as them sent him off edge.

His eyes linger for a bit on his ring and then back up to his own eyes in his reflection.

He can see sam walking behind him into the other room in their suite. He’s also dressed, even though his rendez-vou will mostly take place outside the venue.

For a second, Bucky’s gaze falters.

Despite Bucky’s natural need for revenge, he understood Sam’s hesitancy for him to participate in his mission and so up close. A part of Bucky almost backed out when it became closer to today’s date. 

He was even going to make a call, when someone reached out to him first instead.

Shuri, and then Fury.

Due to lack of resources from the Blip, Bucky was their best bet for this when it came to taking Hayden hostage and in their custody until the necklace was found. 

Then, she’s to be arrested and taken straight to Wakanda. 

Because of this, and because there was no more compound or tower, she would need to stay under watch until then. 

Someone who had the power to hold her, and had a place with high security measures. 

Bucky knew where they were going with this and he had refused profusely. 

He was not going to keep his wife’s murderer in his house with him until the necklace was found. 

It was out of the question.

But, then they had to play the the-world-is-at-stake game. 

“We know this is hard but you are our only hope.”

And his least favorite: “Asa didn’t risk her life for nothing. She knew what that necklace in the wrong hands could do.”

They had convinced him to accept. Within days, his apartment was already prepped. 

He had to hide his weapons for his own sake. 

If he knew his gun was in an easy access area, he wouldn’t hesitate a second to kill Hayden. And that’s not what he would’ve wanted for the sake of Wakanda and this necklace. 

He hates it, but it’s not what Asa would have wanted either.

He hates everything about this.

“You ready, man?” Sam asks quietly, walking over to his side table next to one of the queen beds for his ear piece.

Bucky lifts his suit jacket to where his gun is and makes sure it’s secure. 

“Yeah. Our boat is outside? Can you bring me my glove?” Bucky asks him.

Sam walks over to him, handing over his glove for his vibranium hand.

“Yeah, they’re out there waiting for us.” Sam says.

Bucky nods and runs both his hands over his jacket. 

He could do this. 

He could not kill the one person he wants to the most.

Right?

—

“Captain. Sergeant Barnes.” One of the officials, a woman with long dark hair, greats Bucky and Sam as they step onto their canal boat. Bucky takes a seat and a deep breath. 

“I’m agent Harlow with the FBI. I’ll be briefing you both on what to expect and who when you arrive,” her hologram iPad depicts photos of two men, one is blonde and the other has darker hair, “This is Alexei Roma and Giovanni Bianca. Alexei is our billionaire philanthropist. He is trying to get possession of the necklace for no reason other than adding another piece to his collection. He is innocent and doesn’t even know what the necklace is capable of. He’s the one hosting tonights gala where he and other billionaires and making ludicrous buys. Most of them black market,” she switches the photo over to the man with darker hair, “Giovanni. He’s Alexei’s biggest competition. His offer matches Alexei’s. Difference? Giovanni knows who the seller is. We assume they are there tonight.”

Sam frowns. 

“This necklace seems so special, like it holds some kind of power. It makes me wonder why the seller is trying to get rid of it in the first place.” He says.

“Good point. Another thing for you both to find out,” the woman takes in a deep breath and switches the hologram photo to a photo of a file. She hesitantly looks up at Bucky, “After you’ve gotten information on where this seller may be, you need to find Hayden. We don’t have anything to help us identify who they are aside from their name and a scar on their arm. We do have height and weight identifications which should help a bit, and they are these,” she shows Sam and Bucky the numbers, “you’re looking for a needle in a haystack. Odds are, Barnes, since they are Hydra affiliated they will recognize you before you recognize them. Remember that,” Bucky doesn’t say anything but he enjoys the weight of his licensed P226 Legion handgun on his body, “Hayden is important because they know why that necklace is powerful. What it does. What it can do. We need to find that out. We need to also find out why they were running after it. Hayden is to be detained, unharmed, under Wakandan order, to not avoid additional conflict or attention to the seller or more buyers. Once we have possession of it, Hayden will be taken to Wakanda for further prosecutions decided by them.”

Bucky has to hold in his scoff at the end but he gives a short and barely noticeable nod anyway.

                                          ~

The gala is illuminated by blue and purple lights.

The music plays sensually as people stand around talking, drinking their choice of liquor, or making connections. 

Bucky could feel the fire in his veins as he thanked the bartender for his scotch. It burned down his throat as he tossed it back.

He could feel it in his stomach as it settled there, hot and strong.

He missed being able to get drunk. Not that this, tonight, was a good time for it. But the last couple of days were ideal. The amount of drinks it’d take him to finally feel the start of it’s affects would take at least ten glasses of whiskey. 

He longed for it.

He hadn’t feel numb like that in so long.

Anything to feel something other than that ache and emptiness in his life.

Bucky leaned over on the bar table as he discreetly tried to find Giovanni or Alexei.  

It bothered Bucky that he didn’t know what Hayden looked like. 

Every man that would look at him, even the bartender, made Bucky want to stand guard. 

He hated this.

Bucky asks the bartender for another drink, wanting to feel more of the taste of the amber on his tongue.

“I’m Kassie.” A gentle and feminine voice came from Bucky’s side.

He turned around and saw a brunette, tall, and tanned skin. She was absolutely stunning. Her straight hair ran down her back, following the tight curvature of her dress, and her hazel eyes were piercing.

No scar.

She gave him another smile after asking for a drink.

“I come to Vanni’s galas quite often. Most faces are regulars. Haven’t seen yours, though.” It’s then he notices her accent. 

British.

“First timer.” Bucky says.

“Something of interest caught your eye yet? The auction items are more prestigious than usual this year.”

“il tuo drink, signore.” The man hands Bucky his drink and Bucky thanks him.

“Not yet, but we’ll see.” He says.

The woman smiles again and nods. 

“Vianni’s work — all of it is marvelous,” she takes a sip of her own drink, “some of the sellers this year are quite great as well.”

Bucky raises a brow at this.

“Do you know if there is a special area for sellers?” 

She tilts her head at him.

“You’ve got quite the paper on you,” she whispers. She moves in closer to him and answers quietly, “They meet up there.” Bucky follows her perfectly manicured finger. 

There’s a lounge on the top floor. Secluded from the rest of the room. Bucky can immediately make out the two guards at the entrance.

“Good to know, thank you, miss.”

“Kassie.” She correct him. 

Bucky doesn’t miss her doe eyes and her sweet tone. He slyly moves his left hand behind his head in a way where his left ring finger falls in direct line with her sight.

Her demeanor changes majorly, but her kind eyes and smile still remain. She takes a small step back.

“It was nice meeting you.” She says shortly before taking her drink and walking away.

Bucky sighs as soon as she’s gone and runs a hand down his face.

He drinks his glasses until the end and then walks away, tightening his tie around his neck as he made his way to the stairs that led up to the other floors of the building.

“Not sure if you got that, Sam.” Bucky talks, walking smoothly past the other people.

“We did. You going up there now?” Sam asks.

“Halfway there.” Bucky says with finality. 

Bucky is about to take the second flight of stairs when her hears commotion coming from across the floor. He looks up towards the VIP area where he was headed to, but that was also behind him, and frowns. There was a fight.

Bucky’s thankful that on the second floor he was on there was no one there. 

“Dammit, might have to hold off for a few minutes or so.” 

“What happened?”

“Some kind of argument. We can wait a little more. At least now we know where they will be.”

Bucky turns around back towards the main floor where the guests are. He takes in a deep breath and continues his walk back down to the floor. 

“We’ve got someone on the other building across, up on the roof, and they’ve narrowed down on Alexei and Giovanni in that vip area. We’ll let you know when the coast is clear.”

It’s all just soft noise to Bucky now. Three fifths of this mission was complete. Now he just needed to wait.

“Might as well get another drink.” Sam says playfully in his ear.

“Don’t tempt me.” Bucky says humorlessly, “I just might.” 

At least it’d give him something to do with his hands.

Buckywas starting to feel a little awkward as he just walked around in the middle of the crowd with nothing to really do and no one to talk to. 

At least the music pulled him away from reality for a bit. 

He was so lost in his own thoughts about how he’d approach Alexei that he didn’t see the person he accidentally just hit walking by.

His shoulder hit the person’s hard, and when he spun around to see who it was, his breath caught only momentarily. 

Wow.

Your hair also cascaded down your back, and your heels elongated your legs perfectly. 

You had been anxious to head up to where you knew the guy you were looking for would be, that when you accidentally ran into someone and you spun around and realized you were looking at no other than Bucky Barnes, you were genuinely and thoroughly caught off guard.

You were standing there gaping like a fish. For the first time not knowing what to say right away. That’s when you realized he had no idea who you were. He never saw your face.

Then you wondered why he was here. Did he know about the necklace? Were his Avengers friend here?

Shit.

Your mission was compromised. 

“I’m sorry about that.” His voice.

That stupid, deep voice. 

You used his lack of knowledge with you as a disadvantaged and you gave him a small smile.

You needed to run and tell Ivan right away. There was no way you were getting out of there without them catching on to what you were doing. 

The manpower was unfair.

“That’s alright.” You say quietly, before spinning around, letting the only thing behind you a man who for some reason was still looking at you and the train of your black dress. 

Your super expensive black dress. 

Bucky couldn’t stop the soft blushing he felt creeping up his neck or the flutter her felt at your voice. 

Once you’re out of sight he quickly shakes his head. 

Not only were you pretty, that wasn’t what it was, but your eyes...

He turns once more to look back at you again and this time you’re halfway down the long hallway that led to the exit out of the building. 

His eyes narrowed down at you like a hawk. As if you could feel his gaze on you, you turned around and your eyes met.

That was when everything changed.

Your left hand quickly went up to your ear piece.

“Ivan. We have a problem. Mission abort, meeting you at Rezou.”

You turned once again to meet Bucky’s eyes, like a moth to a flame, and that’s when his blue eyes traveled from your face to your left arm.

Bucky’s stomach fell hard. His blood also ran cold in his veins and all he could see was red. 

And you definitely knew who he was alright, because the second he made the connection to who you were, your face also changed and you picked up your pace.

Bucky could feel his heart in his head.

“Sam, I got her.” Bucky says quickly, a hardness in his voice that he himself hadn’t heard in years.

“Who?” Sam’s confusion was palpable.

Bucky couldn’t even tell is he was running but he felt like he was at this point. He had to be.

“Hayden,” Bucky’s voice was unsteady, “Hayden’s a girl. I’m after her right now.”

“Buck-“

“I’m following her out the venue. I’ll need you, Sam. Stay on.”

Shit, he was already losing you.

You could feel the blood in your head and ears as you ran as fast as you possibly could outside in the Venice streets. 

The winter soldier was after you. You hated him, but you knew how strong and much faster than you he was, but you would put up a fight.

“He’s here. The Winter Soldier is here.” You spat into your ear piece.

“What?” 

You turned it off. You didn’t know what the Avengers could hack into and you didn’t want them over hearing anything. 

The streets of Italy were already asleep, and your heels cladding loudly with stones as you ran as fast as you could.

You knew he was on your tail.

You could practically feel him right behind you.

You whipped your head back to see you were in fact correct.

You were screwed. You knew you were because this was a super soldier and he was a goddamn sniper. If he hadn’t caught you yet, it was by choice.

You wondered if he was tiring you out on purpose.

His face was angry as he spoke to someone. 

You were right. They were all here. 

You decided your best bet would be to create obstacles since your speed wasn’t what would win here.

You made a sharp right around a buggy and ran over the bridge over one of the canals. 

“Fuck.” You grunted out as you felt your diaphragm already begin to spasm. 

You only had one place you could go. Thankfully, it wasn’t that far.

You weren’t sure what you’d do when you get there. 

You made another sharp left and then ran down a dark alley, illuminated by the orange lights of some of the homes, and ran towards the end, making a right. 

Just like that, everything became more quiet. You stopped behind the wall and took a few deep breaths.

He could be right behind you, maybe did lose you, or was playing you. Whichever one it was, you had to take your chances. You turned your head towards the right and continued the way you were going, but much slower this time.

While you do so, you check your thigh to make sure your gun was still there where you put it. 

It’s there.

You turn down another alley towards your left and then stop just next to a door. You look once more towards the direction you came from, relieved to see no one there.

Opening the door, you make your way inside the building. 

You’re thankful you discovered this back entrance to your hotel earlier. 

Hand tight on the handrail and the other grabbing the bottom of your dress, you start making your way up to your floor where your room is.

Room 302 of the Hotel Danieli.

One of your favorites.

With a deep breath you make your way over to the table next to the window and quickly remove your ear piece. You also unbuckle your gun from around your thigh and then run your hand through your hair.

You had not expected this. 

You did not expect to see him.

You also weren’t an idiot. You knew you didn’t out run him. He was still out there waiting for you. You didn’t know what game he was playing at or how he even knew who you were, but you were willing to put up a fight. Your eyes quickly flicker away from the window as a soft gust blows your curtain just slightly. 

Your eyes go to the roof across the street.

He was a sniper. 

You quickly move out of direct sight of the window, bringing your gun with you, and rest up against your wall next to it.

You turn the safety off.

Wait.

Your eyes dart down once more to the open window.

The soft click of another gun’s safety being turned off is the only confirmation you need.

You can’t help the laugh, in the form of a scoff, that leaves your lips. Your hair fans over the left side of your face as you turn to look directly into the black void of the rest of your suite.

With footsteps that are barely noticeable, and as the lights illuminates his face, Bucky steps foot into your hotel bedroom.

His eyes are dark, his tie is gone, he shockingly broke a sweat, some of his hair was falling over his forehead, his mouth is in a tight line, and he’s got his gorgeous - oh hell you had always wanted one - Legion gun pointed directly at your head with both hands.

Hilarious; he still kept his vibranium hand hidden.

You just stared at him as he continued looking at you, saying nothing and doing nothing. It almost intrigued you. He looked furious, his top lip almost trembled, yet he was as still as a rock.

You let out a short laugh as you lifted your own two arms to point your own gun back at him.

“Put it down. Now!” He screamed the last word at you and you felt insulted.

You let out a little smile.

“I don’t think you’re really talking to me that way, now are you, Bucky?” Something about you knowing his real name irks him deeply and it does something to him he wasn’t prepared for. It makes him feel more human than assassin and it reminds him of what you took from him, “I’m not scared of you. I only ran because I don’t want you in my goddamn way.” You fire your bullet into the lamp right behind him at your last word.

Either of you barely flinch at it.

“I don’t give a shit. Stand down. Now.” He says again.

You squint an eye at him and that’s when Bucky has had enough. The speed he goes for you physically hurts you, and he aims his gun directly at yours, causing yours to fall apart in your hand and fly across the room; its sudden power making your hand burn.

With a growl, you unexpectedly grab him arm and twist his around so he’s the one with his back against the wall.

He was more powerful than you, but you were still somewhat skillful and did have some more than normal human strength. Catching him off guard was just enough. 

Bucky’s breathing was hard as he pulled you around until he was back in an advantage point.

You smirk just after your head hits the wall hard.

“That was fun,” you knew what he was about to do. You saw it before you knew. He was too distracted in what was going on in his head that he did a piss job in hiding it. You quickly reach your right hand around until the cuff he had in his hand is closed and locked around nothing, “but frankly I’m bored, soldat.” Bucky could only glare back at you as you stepped your impressive black high heel into his shoe and moved your body closer to his, “It was nice seeing you again.”

Bucky didn’t bother to react at his blood boiling or to attempt to run after you again.

He had already made contact with everyone else and they were prepared for you.

If anything, it had all gone to plan.

What he didn’t expect was for you to be you.

Your perfume lingers in the beautiful hotel room and he’s out of breath as he watches you jump out your window, aiming for the waters below.  

Idiotic.

Bucky closes his eyes tightly together and runs a hand through his hair. 

He expects the voice in his ear, but he still hates it just the same; and it hits different. It’s a confirmation of what the next few weeks will be.

“I got her.” Sam.

~

“We should be landing in New York soon. We’ll have someone drive you to your home in the city. You said her room was ready?” Sam asks Bucky, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Bucky can’t find it in himself to vocally respond yet. 

He also can’t wrap his head around the fact that this girl in front of him killed his wife just a few days ago.

This hydra agent.

This criminal, who he’d have to literally protect and keep in custody in his own home for god knows how long. 

His eyes linger over the bruises on your legs and he doesn’t feel an ounce of sympathy for you.

You’re passed out and cuffed to the bed underneath you. You hit the water pretty hard. It was evident how desperate you were to get away from him. 

He wants to kill you, and maybe he will once they have the necklace. 

Bucky can only nod in response to Sam’s question. 

“Five minutes to landing.” Sam says.

“It’s on autopilot?” Bucky asks, walking out of the plane’s medical area, closing the door behind them.

“Yes. Did you want to land us the rest of the way?” Sam asks.

“Yeah,” Bucky says softly, finally allowing his heart to feel again, “it’s been a while since I’ve flown.”

                                         __

@03stepedwa @migueloharaslxt @unaxv

[orions-athenaeumficlibrary]

From Your Smile to Your Soul

Bucky Barnes x F!Enchanced!reader

Synopsis: You don't want to go on this mission and Bucky doesn't want the girl whose smile brings him happiness getting hurt. But what can either of you do when your job is to heal others? If only you had told him that you weren't ok, if only he had made sure you were right behind him.

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: angst, language, drinking, mentions of guns/injury/blood, hypothermia, asshole SHIELD agents, Bucky gets teary eyed, happy fluff-filled ending...

-I do not consent to having any of my writing, under the username Orions- Athenaeum, translated, posted or published on third party sites, apps or platforms-

Bucky didn’t think there was anything worth enjoying in his new life. Of course he appreciated Steve’s unwavering loyalty and the ease that he brought Bucky after he was freed from Hydra. There also was Sam’s annoying banter which usually gave Bucky something to smirk about, but he would never admit that to anyone. When Bucky didn’t understand what a text message was, Wanda and Natasha helped him adapt to the technological “wonders” of this modern time. He was even glad when Tony would crack an “old joke” just to get under his skin, because Bucky knew humor was Tony’s way of showing he cared. While Bucky was grateful for everything his teammates did for him, there was still a very obvious void, that felt almost like a ten ton weight sitting on his chest, trying to steal his breath from him. That feeling of immense pressure and simultaneous emptiness only began to lessen about four months ago, on a balmy summer evening when Steve dragged Bucky to one of Tony’s lavish galas.

Bucky didn’t know who or what the event was for, in all honesty he figured Tony was just looking for another excuse to throw a party. The former Winter Soldier had been a part of the team for a while now, but these types of social gatherings never failed to make him feel extremely unsettled. Maybe it was the way he felt people’s eyes lingered on him for too long, whether it was from fear or judgment. Or maybe it was that the suit Natasha had helped him pick out was nearly suffocating him. It could have also been the glass filled with some unknown booze that felt uncomfortably heavy in his vibranium hand. All this to say, Bucky was certain the tension in his shoulders was palpable as he checked his watch for the thirtieth time that evening; he was waiting for the hands to tell him he had waited a respectful amount of time before he could seek out the comfort of his own room. Bucky reluctantly pulled his eyes up from his watch and began to scan the room, hoping to find Steve and with him some sense of calmness. His search was cut short when his gaze landed on a girl chatting with Peter near the bar. She had short y/h/c hair that reminded him of a girl from his own time, messier and not as curled perhaps, but classic nonetheless. Her long, black, strapless dress and sleek platform heels reminded him of something Natasha might have worn. He wondered for a second if maybe Nat had helped her pick out an outfit too. Deciding that was an utterly ridiculous thought a second later, Bucky found himself enamored by her smile. It was all he could focus on: that beautiful, perfect smile. One corner of her mouth curved up more than the other and her full red painted lips made it impossible for Bucky to look away. Seconds felt like hours and as Bucky continued to look at her, he found a smile involuntarily tugging at his own lips. Amazingly enough, he didn’t feel so out of place anymore.

“It’s rude to stare.” Bucky quickly jerked his head towards Sam’s voice. His smile immediately faded as he glared at his friend. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Wilson.” Even Bucky didn’t believe his words and chances were Sam didn’t either. Despite being a pain in the ass, he was smarter and more observant than Bucky liked to give him credit for. Sam rolled his eyes and ignored Bucky’s hint to drop the topic. 

“Why don’t you go and ask her to dance?” Bucky couldn’t breathe. There was no way in hell he could do that. Standing across the room was the prettiest girl he’d seen and Sam thought it would be a good idea for him to ask her for a dance. 

“Yeah that will not be happening.” Bucky tossed back the rest of the liquid in his glass, knowing that the pleasant burn of the alcohol would not affect him in the slightest. He wished it would. Maybe a little liquid courage was the push he needed to go over and speak to her. 

“Look man, she’s gorgeous and really sweet, I met her this morning. All I’m saying is that she would totally say yes if you asked. She was staring at you too, by the way.” This morning. Bucky recalled Sam telling him he met a new member of the team earlier that morning. Maybe he would have the chance to see her again if she was the one Sam was referring to. Shaking his head to extinguish any false hope he had conjured up, Bucky realized that Sam was telling the truth; the girl was staring right back at him. After a few seconds, she raised her delicate fingers and sent a small wave. Bucky almost keeled over on the spot. Not knowing what else to do, he awkwardly raised his own hand back. She smiled. He smiled. And just like that Bucky knew he was a goner.  

Four months later…

“No.” Bucky refused to change his mind. Steve rolled his eyes at his friend, who currently stood across the room with his arms crossed over his chest with a look that said, this is your final warning. Steve knew better than to try and push his best friend around, but this really was a mission that required her skills. There were dozens of hostages, and they would need medical attention. Not from doctors, but from her. 

“Buck. You know I wouldn’t put Y/n in the field if I didn’t think it was absolutely necessary.” Bucky did not move. Steve sighed. And people call me stubborn. He thought to himself. 

“I understand that you want to protect her Bucky, I really do. But she is a part of this team. Y/n’s an Avenger and her role is to heal people. Now, there are people who need her help and she is going to go and help them. If you would prefer not to lead this mission than I can have someone else take-”

“No.” Bucky was quick to cut off Steve’s offer. His tone was firm, but just below the surface Bucky was panicking. He didn’t want his girl out in the field. But if Y/n had to go, he couldn’t stand the thought of not being out there with her. Steve raised a brow. 

“I’ll go. But you better make sure there is no way we’re gonna get ambushed. We’d better be prepared. I won’t hesitate to beat your ass if something happens to Y/n.” Bucky turned to leave the conference room as Steve muttered something under his breath. 

“What?” Bucky snapped. 

“I just said it seems like you care about Y/n an awful lot when she isn’t even your girlfriend.” Bucky knew Steve was trying to get him to admit that he was too scared to ask her out. But honestly, Bucky wasn’t in the mood for his best friend to play matchmaker. So, without a look back, he stormed out into the corridor towards the gym. He was set on taking his anger and fear out on some punching bags, but as he walked through the halls all he could think about was her smile. He needed that smile safe. If he could just wrap it in his arms and shield it from all the bad, he would be happy for the rest of his life. 

————————————————————————

You were certain there had to have been some kind of mistake. The thick Manila folder that sat on your desk marked “MISSION BRIEFING” had to have been delivered to the wrong room. Bucky was just across the hall, so maybe it was for him. That had to be it, because there was no way they were seriously considering putting you out in the field after only four months of being on the team. You weren’t even supposed to be a field agent. Nick Fury had recruited you because of your powers. Sure, you could mend a broken bone and fuse a gunshot wound close, but that did not mean you fought on the front lines. It meant you waited until your team was back to the safety of the compound to help them. Refusing to open the folder you picked it up and made your way to Bucky’s door. 

“Buck?” You called as you knocked on the cool wood. You gasped as it opened not a second later. Bucky was standing in front of you in all his post gym, sweaty, shirtless glory.

“Hey, doll. What’s up?” He asked with a smirk tugging at his lips. That damned smirk. You immediately drew your gaze away from his tight abs and pretty smile up to his eyes. Which, honestly, didn't help because you found yourself getting lost in a sea of  deep cerulean blue. It seemed that every aspect of Bucky had an overwhelming effect on you. Deciding it was best to stare at the carpet instead, you fumbled with the folder before showing it to him. 

“I think they gave this to me by accident, because I’m not usually in the field. Actually I’ve never been in the field and so it’s probably yours and I just wanted to give it to you.” Your words came out all in one breath and you kept your gaze focused on the floor at your feet. You felt Bucky gently take the folder from your grasp. You were ready to let out a sigh of relief when you felt his fingers thread through your own as he lightly pulled you into his room. As your heart beat began to quicken, the brief confusion you had felt quickly morphed into anxiety. Why didn’t he just take his mission briefing and send you on your merry way? He gestured for you to sit down on his bed as he sat next to you. 

“No, this is yours.” He finally said. The finality in his tone made you want to throw up. “Steve told me this morning. But I made him promise that there would be no combat, and I’ll be leading. There will be two other agents, so you’re not alone. The mission should be fairly quick, in and out and then we come home. I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.” His words were somewhat of a comfort. You also knew that the rest of the team was fairly confident in your abilities, since Nat, Sam and Steve had all trained extensively with you over the last four months. Bucky refused to spar with you but that's besides the point. Although, you weren’t really worried about not being able to defend yourself. You had been trained and ran through mission scenarios, but the weight of the briefing envelope in your hands was making this too real. It also didn’t help that every single agent wanted to rip you apart because you were given a spot on the Avengers without making it into SHIELD as an agent. You had tried to put yourself through training, but during your first field test, you instantly choked. All of the sudden the gun pointed at the enemy agent in front of you made your arms feel like lead. Your brain wouldn’t let you pull the trigger, so you stood there, frozen. You were positive you were going to be removed from the program, but when Nick Fury heard about your healing powers, you were suddenly offered a spot as an Avenger. So, to put it plainly, every single SHIELD agent hated you. They hated that you failed training and still got the most coveted title, they hated that you lived in Avengers Tower, they hated that you got everything they wanted. The real problem, which was much bigger than any jealous agent’s spiteful remarks, was that you could not stomach the idea of hurting someone. That was the reason why you failed your training in the first place, because bad guy or not, you were given the gift of healing. You were never supposed to cause pain and it seemed as if the concept of harming someone was against your very nature. Pulling the trigger on a paper silhouette was one thing. Aiming a gun at another human being was quite another. So while the training you had done prepared you for taking down enemies, you’re not entirely sure you could bring yourself to that. 

“Ok.” Was all you could manage. Some time during your internal spiral Bucky had begun rubbing soothing circles on your back. Bucky was another aspect of this assignment that you had to consider. You weren’t sure how to feel about him going on the mission with you. Your relationship was a little confusing at times to say the least. You knew that you cared about him more than a friend would and he often made it seem like he felt the same way. You had felt this way from the very first night you met him, when he caught you staring at him and you awkwardly waved (who the hell waves at a hot guy across the room?) Bucky was also the first one to make you feel like you were truly part of the team. He would bring your breakfast to the lab when you were working mornings and didn’t have time to eat, he would make sure you had a good spot on the couch for team movie nights (it was coincidentally always next to him) and then there were time like these where he would comfort you and do everything in his power to make you feel safe and cared for. Basically, in the four months that you had known him, you were falling in love with Bucky Barnes. 

“Ok, what, doll?” And those stupid pet names definitely weren’t helping you keep your feelings at bay. 

“Ok. Sounds good, I guess I’ll see you at the hangar in a few hours.” You replied, unwilling to meet his eyes, you slowly picked up the folder and walked towards his door. An unnerving feeling overcame you as you heard the heavy wood close behind you. 

————————————————————————

     You figured the mission would not be a walk in the park, and as you sat in the middle of Siberia, with two agents that hate you and hostages with far more injuries than Steve had anticipated, you knew this easily made your “Top Ten Worst Days list.” Of course you were more than happy to help every hostage, that was the only part you enjoyed. However, the  amount of energy it took to heal so many injuries resulted in black dots clouding your vision by the time you had helped the last hostage. The thing about your healing abilities was that you had to use your energy to heal others. Meaning healing their injuries literally exhausts you. And on top of the twenty broken bones, abrasions and burns you’ve healed, Megan and Nick had a few bumps and bruises from breaking down the door and restraining the guards that needed mending. According to Megan, Bucky told them to go to you since they need to be in top shape for the trek back to the safe house. While the safe house sounded pleasant, the fact that it was currently 40 below and that the shelter was three miles out in the middle of a forest, was not as pleasant. After you finished healing Megan’s bruised ankle, the dizziness that had settled in a few minutes prior was now overwhelming. If you could just sit down for a few minutes and maybe close your eyes, you would feel much better. 

“Get up. We need to meet Bucky in a few minutes. A storm is moving in so we can’t take the jet back until morning. Bucky secured the hostages in an exit raft and we need to find the safehouse soon.” Megan sneered as she pushed your hands away from her ankle. 

“Could I just have one minute? I’m not feeling-”

“You’re an Avenger, right? So get off your ass and start walking.” You hesitantly stood up, apparently too quickly because you began swaying and lurched forward, catching yourself against a tree. The frozen bark cut into your skin, slicing your palms. Willing your head to stop spinning you looked down at your bloodied hands. Another downside of your powers was that once your energy had been spent, it became nearly impossible for you to continue healing, which meant you could not help yourself or others when you were this exhausted. You heard Megan’s boots crunch in the snow as she began to walk, blatantly ignoring your compromised state. Since it appeared you had no other option, you began walking as well, but the edges of your vision were fuzzy and it felt like someone had thrown your head against a wall. If you could just get to Bucky maybe he would let you rest for a minute. No. You couldn’t ask him for that, Megan and Nick already thought you got special treatment for being an Avenger you didn’t need them to see parts of yours and Bucky’s friendship in the field. Plus, Bucky had been acting weird ever since you stepped foot on the quinjet. He called you by your last name and his usual soft eyes and teasing tone had left him completely. It made sense, you told yourself as you pushed forward, because this was his job, and he didn’t really care about you like that. The frigid chill had begun to seep through your suit, and though you had never been a huge fan of the cold, you were thankful for it now. It was keeping you awake and alert, the sting of the snow hitting your face gave you something to focus on so you wouldn’t pass out. Finally you reached the clearing where Bucky was waiting. You glanced up to find his concerned gaze looking you over. You used all your strength to muster up a smile and nodded your head to let him know you were ok. He seemed satisfied enough, and told the team to start walking.

How you managed to walk two miles you weren’t sure, but what you did know was that you were now falling behind the others. You were following Nick and Megan who had been keeping a fairly even pace with Bucky. But now, with the snow whipping all around you, you couldn’t see or hear any of them. Maybe this would be a good time to take a break. It would only be for a few minutes and nobody would notice that you had taken a breather. As the snow storm had progressed you had lost feeling in your fingers and toes, and it seemed like everything was moving in slow motion. You thought you reached out to brace yourself on a tree but instead you felt like you were falling. It didn’t hurt when you hit the powdery snow, its cold embrace only called you to rest your eyes. You obeyed and felt your eyelids slowly blink shut. I’ll only rest for a minute, you told yourself. Just as you were about to let sleep pull you under, you heard shouting. The voice sounded familiar as it called your name over the howling of the wind. You knew you should answer but you simply didn’t have the energy. Then, you felt strong arms lift you up and a familiar fresh, piney scent filled your nose. This is what Bucky smells like, you thought to yourself. 

“Could you open those pretty eyes for me. Please, doll. I’m begging you, give me anything.” 

Bucky sounded like he was talking underwater. 

“You are not allowed to do this to me, I swear I’ll make it up to you but you gotta wake up so we can talk.” And why did he seem so worried? You wanted to tell him that you were fine but you couldn’t get the words out. 

“Why wouldn’t you say something?” Bucky’s muddled voice had more of an edge this time. His sharp tone made sense, he had every right to be mad at you, it was you who was slowing down the mission and now he had to pick up the slack. 

“I didn’t see her fall behind, she was fine a minute ago.” This time it was a woman who responded and somewhere in your mind you figured it was Megan. But you hadn’t been “fine a minute ago,” in fact you hadn’t felt ok for over an hour. 

“You’re supposed to watch out for your teammates, so I’m going to ask again, why the hell did you not say something?” In your dazed state you realized Bucky was directing his anger at Megan not at you and well you felt some reprieve from the fact that Bucky didn’t seem too disappointed in you, you were beginning to slip further and further into the shadows of sleep. You knew you needed to stay awake, but you couldn’t feel anything, not the snow hitting your cheeks, or Bucky’s frantic pace, and your entire body felt completely numb. Time began to pass strangely after that moment, you heard some more gargled shouting before you felt your body being laid down on something hard. You found some odd burst of energy and forced your eyelids to open, looking up to find Bucky’s worried eyes desperately trying to hold your gaze. His eyes seemed glossier and much more concerned than normal, but you couldn’t figure out why. “C’mon Y/n, I’ll get you warm and you’ll be alright. I’m gonna have to get your wet gear off first, but I promise I’ll make it all better ok, sweetheart? I love you too much to let go now.” Love? Why would Bucky be talking about love, he seemed so frustrated with you in the field. His face disappeared from view a moment later and you thought you heard the sound of fabric ripping. Bucky yelled for someone to get blankets and before you could tell him that all his shouting was confusing and much too loud, you surrendered yourself to the peaceful comfort of unconsciousness. 

You didn’t know when you became aware of your surroundings again, whether it had been minutes or weeks, you couldn’t tell. You could smell burning wood accompanied by a familiar piney scent that you soon identified as Bucky, but you couldn’t open your eyes to confirm your theory. When you heard a deep voice laced with a Brooklyn accent from somewhere around you, you didn’t have to look at Bucky to know whose arms were protecting you.

“...Remember when we were in Queens and you made me go inside that old book store with you? We stayed there until they closed and you kept handing me books that would, “change your life, I swear it, Bucky.” I didn’t like reading much in the forties but I woulda stayed there with you for weeks if it meant I got to see that smile of yours every time you read something funny. I’ll take you back there but you gotta wake up first, alright?” Bucky’s words were soothing, and his soft voice gently lulled you back to sleep before you could answer his request.   

Bucky was talking again when you tried to wake up for a second time, 

“...Everything about you is perfect, doll, like how you always scrunch your nose when Sam’s cooking looks awful, but you eat it anyway with a smile on your face because you’re just happy he cared enough to make you something.” You wanted to smile for Bucky, open your mouth, say anything. But your head was still too heavy and you couldn’t break through the cloud of sleep that kept dragging you back under.

This time you could feel warmth running up and down your arms, as if someone was trying to coax you from sleep with their caring touch. You waited for Bucky to talk to you again, you found yourself needing his words to anchor you to consciousness.

“...You should’ve told me sooner, sweetheart, I coulda carried you, given you a little break. You know I would do just about anything for you right? Hell, I think everyone on this damn team thinks I’m weak when it comes to you. But you don’t make me weak, Y/n, you give me a reason to smile, you make me feel better about the world and like I’m not too broken to be a part of it…” You wanted to take Bucky’s face in your hands and tell him that he was not broken, that he was worth more than your words would ever mean. But it still seemed like too much work to open your eyes, so you kept them shut and let your mind slip back into sleep for a little longer. 

————————————————————————

Your skin felt like it was on fire, that was the first thing you noticed when you fully regained consciousness. Something heavy was laying across your stomach and there was a solid presence holding you that seemed to radiate the same amount of heat as the crackling fire in front of you. 

“Y/n? Doll? Thank God you’re finally awake, how’re you feeling?

At the sound of his voice you slowly turned to face Bucky and were met with a look of adoration in those blue eyes, which made you feel even worse for making him take care of you. 

“I’m sorry I messed the mission up, Barnes.” Even though your sight was still a little blurry you could make out the confusion in his face. Pushing some hair out of your face he asked, 

“You never call me Barnes, what’s up with that Y/n/n? And what are goin’ on about, “messing up the mission,” you didn’t do a damn thing wrong. If Megan and Nick had done their jobs as teammates you wouldn’t be in this situation. It’s my fault too ya know, I should've checked you over before I made you walk three miles. You looked a little tired when I first saw you but I think I tricked myself into believing you were safe, all I ever want is for you to be safe, Y/n.” You weren’t quite sure how to answer him, your brain felt like quicksand, trapping your thoughts from becoming words.

“And you never answered my question, Y/n, you feelin’ better?” You nodded slowly, during the time you had been asleep your body had slowly heated up, you had regained feeling in your limbs and your mind was feeling less foggy by the minute.

“Thanks for getting me out of there, Bucky. I mean, it’s not like I needed your help, I just wanted to sleep for a few minutes.” You attempted to lighten the mood by pushing out a laugh that sounded more like a light exhale. 

“There she is, that’s the girl I love.” You whipped your head back with such force that Bucky had to place his hand on your neck to prevent you from giving yourself whiplash. You stared into his eyes, determined to find out if he was really speaking the truth. 

“I do love you Y/n, I have from the minute I caught you smiling at Tony’s stupid gala. You’re perfect to me, in every possible way, from your smile to your soul.” Of course you felt the same way for him. Bucky was your best friend, he made you laugh and his heart and the care that he gave out freely never ceased to amaze you. You watched his lips turn into the most perfect smile  and you found yourself smiling twice as big knowing that there was no moment in your life more wonderful than this one. Right before you could respond a shiver ran through you and Bucky turned you around so you were facing the fireplace again. 

“Hey, Bucky?” you received a low hum and a kiss behind your ear in response. “You should really shower, you smell like an old barn.” He chuckled and replied, “Jeez, doll, I save your life and tell you that I love you, and all you do is tell me that I smell?” You could tell that Bucky knew you were teasing, but you didn’t feel like letting him off the hook quite yet. 

“I guess I love you too.” You mumbled with an obvious grin in your voice. 

“I know you do doll, I only wish you had said something sooner, then I woulda had more opportunities to torture you for makin’ fun of me.” With that, Bucky began to tickle your stomach, while still being wary of your injuries, earning an eruption of giggles from your mouth. After a few seconds Bucky pulled you back against him and whispered a soft, “sleep, sweet girl, I’ve got you,” into your hair. Your eyes slowly fell shut and you felt completely content, knowing you were safe in the arms of the man who loved you, and who you loved right back. 

[ghostiiiee]

Lately I've been thinking about a dc x dp au

Which I know those are popular lately but I haven't seen any like what I have ideas for

Mainly the plot bunnies follow an old post theory of mine, the Steven universe inspired split.

I really like the idea of a 'true' halfa danny escaping to Gotham with jazz under the names Nightingale and danny being legally dead due to his parents.

But it doesn't even start rhere

I adore the idea of Jason and danny being friends from before everything.

The idea that Jason met danny at a gala when they were both 12 or 13 and hitting it off extremely well and staying in touch. Danny could have gone with Sam bc she compromised with her parents. Wear a certain dress in neutral colors and bring a friend or she would make a scene ya know

Either way things go on and one of the key points I have written is Danny and Jason either died on the same day at the same time. Or Jason was revived at the same time Danny was in the portal. Something that would make them a GZ equivalent of twins. Kinda like that tinker bell movie with the wings.

Another idea I had was danny stops going by phantom in Gotham and goes by Crow and has a whole new outfit which I'm trying to sketch up.

And like yeah there's a no metas in Gotham rule. But Bruce has no idea there's a new hero for months until some bs happens and danny has to haul Jason to the cave for something

I could see Tim and Barbs knowing but never mentioning it bc "no one asked."

I just want to half dead idiots who are the same age and bust into raids with music blasting.

(I'm also partial to the hc that Jason's malnutrition didn't get magically fixed by the Lazarus pit. So two similar looking gangly limbed 17 year Olds with more strength than it looks like seems fucking hysterical.)

[miscmonstro]

The Uno Reverse Adoption Saga

First: You are here

Next: Chapter 2

Fandoms: Danny Phantom, Batman (DC)

Specifically, Halfa!Trio Au crossover with Batman

Current Characters: Sam Manson, Tucker Foley, Danny Fenton, Jason Todd

Summary: Forced to attend a gala by her parents as she is every year, Sam Manson was resigned to suffer through the stifling three-night gala until something pulled at her core. The something turned out to be a someone. Just who is Jason Todd and can the trio gain enough of his trust and help him before his struggling proto-core collapses?

👻 {Chapter 1 Below!)

Danny groaned within the confines of his mind, exasperation and irritation and just a bit of fear welling up in his chest. 

His disgruntlement did not go unacknowledged. Danny wasn’t alone, even in his mind, and he hadn’t been for quite some time. Somewhere in Amity Park Tucker sent a wave of comfort in return, and he too was uneasy of the trip Danny’s eccentric parents had forced him to accompany them on. 

Sam, on a plane to Gotham, had her own problems and replied with a simple vague sentiment akin to ‘what can you do’ with less words. Her weariness seeped into it, making it feel quite resigned. It was as though she was awaiting some awful fate she’d long accepted and… no, that's exactly what it was. 

Tucker broke the relative silence across the link with an unrepentant, “At least one of us is going to survive to Christmas.”

Danny responded with the impression of bashing his own head onto a wall and Sam began to seethe. Despite her best efforts, her mind circled back to the annual gala her parents demanded she attend alongside them. It was hosted by a different snob every year, and while the scenery might have been different, the atmosphere was always the same. Without fail it would be simmering with thinly concealed flaunting and heavy with thick lies pasted atop one another.

Sam wished she could tell her parents no. She wished she didn’t have to do this. She would never voice those complaints and misgivings about the Christmas gala ever again, and not just because of Desiree. 

Every year Sam wanted to scream and every year she smiled and let her parents pick her outfits and acted like the perfect daughter. She couldn’t afford to be anything less at the Christmas galas and it made her want to hurl at the plastic cutout she endured becoming for those horrid days. Hurl, or commit a murder.

“I’m doomed. You’ll have to break me out of jail,” Sam muttered in her mind as the second option grew in appeal. “I swear these rich assholes get dumber every year.”

“And my parents get more insane,” Danny added gloomily. 

There was a hint of something from Tucker that Sam could tell wasn’t thought out and she mentally kicked him before he could put his metaphorical foot in his unphysical mouth. Tucker swatted her in retaliation but understood, switching tracks.

“Uh… yeah. That sucks. But we’re halfway through our junior year and then one more year before we’re free from our parents!” Tucker tried to comfort. Danny’s gloom lightened ever so slightly. 

For a few minutes, Sam looked out the window and imagined that she was going anywhere else to do anything else. There was a growing serene calm shared across the link, the tinges of uncertainty ebbing away. She could hear keys clacking away as Tucker typed and she could feel affection for Jazz from Danny as he texted her. 

And then Mr. Fenton startled Danny and unveiled a new anti-ghost device and Danny’s mood plummeted like a twelve ton rock to the bottom of the ocean. 

Tucker winced and tried to think of any joke that wasn’t a pun to lighten the mood.

Sam sighed. It was going to be a long, long break.

👻 {Boo!)

All too soon the plane landed and Sam zoned out while her parents immediately fought over what she should wear like they hadn’t ordered whatever the clothes were weeks ago. Sam had mentally checked out for self preservation the moment she stepped foot off of the plane. This wasn’t her first rodeo and she had the act down pat. Giggle when she was supposed to as her parents showed her off and stand silently behind them when they weren’t. At the seamstress or at the hotel lobby chatting with other rich people, the script was the same. It wouldn’t change for the gala either.

At least the previous two years hadn’t been as horrible with Danny and Tucker a mere thought away. 

The days dragged like an ant crawling through molasses and then the dreaded day arrived. The first night of the gala. Wayne Manor was old, she noted as their limo drew nearer. She could appreciate the architecture at least, and maybe such an old house had a ghost. At least that would be interesting.

Danny pointed out that she didn’t have a thermos.

She quietly conceded his point and wished for something regardless while she smiled blankly as her parents greeted Bruce, the host of the gala this year. With a polite greeting of her own the Mansons departed from the entrance and swept into the manor.

Straight away her parents engaged in some conversation and Sam stood a step behind them. Allowing herself one sad, longing look towards the quiet corners of the room, Sam bitterly wondered why the Christmas galas made her parents fanatical every year. They let her get away with whatever she wanted within reason the rest of the year, but as soon as Christmas was involved they expected her to be a doll.

With that last break of character she let a calm wash over her, perfected from years of galas, and let her perfect daughter mask snap firmly into place. 

“At least they’re only like this once a year,” Tucker commented, trying to look at the positives. 

Sam agreed. If they were so controlling year round then she was sure she’d have run away from them.  

“And at least the fruitloop is a shut in,” Danny added. The three shuddered at the thought of Vlad at the gala, Sam in particular. She didn’t want to handle him alone. Even between the three of them it was tricky to drive him off sometimes, never mind one on one.  

The clock ticked on at an agonizing pace. Eventually her parents sent her off to dance with the son of some CEO they were chatting with and she used the opportunity to escape after the dance. So long as her parents didn’t see her doing anything “unseemly” then she’d be golden for the rest of the night. She made her way over to a relatively secluded corner and cursed at the dress limiting her movements. Just walking felt like a chore in the wretched thing. Sam might have come from a family with money but she rarely dressed it. 

“Mission accomplished for the night,” she told the boys. “If I have to dance in these heels one more time…”

“You’ve almost made it through,” Danny encouraged her.

“And now you can scope out the room! Are there any cute girls?” Tucker prodded cheekily.

Before Sam could mentally reply a strange sensation washed over her. It felt like a gentle tug at her chest, at her core. Her lips parted and a faint golden-yellow mist emerged. 

“Ghost. There’s a ghost here,” Sam said, head snapping up from her cup of stuff she technically shouldn’t have been drinking as she began scanning the room with a critical eye.

“Ask and you shall receive. You totally jinxed yourself Sam,” Danny said, though his concern belied the light comment.

“You can handle it,” Tucker added at her uneasiness. “You’re-“

“No, this is different. I- I feel something in my core,” Sam said with growing alarm as the feeling didn’t fade. “Guys…”

Now it wasn’t just Sam who felt alarmed but they knew by this point how to prevent a crippling spiral of positive feedback. Dread settled in her gut and Sam couldn’t even tell if it was hers. 

“I think it’s tugging me,” Sam noted after a moment of observation. She stepped toward the crowd, toward the pull, and Tucker recoiled. 

“Um, hello, reason here. Shouldn’t you not be heading toward it?” he said.

“But what if it’s hold on her core gets stronger? She needs to do something,” Danny pointed out. 

“It doesn’t feel malicious so I’m assuming the worst. I might need you guys to pull me out of a mind trap,” Sam relayed as she weaved between the other guests.

There were twin nonverbal agreements from Tucker and Danny. Being connected to two other people usually meant that items and people looking to ensnare the mind needed to nab all three of them for anything to take effect, and for that Sam was grateful. 

Sam paused as the pull led her to a wall. Wherever she was being led was outside of the main room. Glancing around, Sam spied a confectionery table and she ducked behind it. Without a thought she turned herself intangible and invisible and walked through the wall, following the pull. After several rooms, some occupied by guests and some not, Sam came across a balcony.

Hunched over the railings was someone wearing a tux. Sam couldn’t see anything spectral about him and that put her on guard more than anything. The ones that were strong enough to appear perfectly human were the ones that always brought the most trouble. She stepped into the empty hall and dropped the ghostly aspects from her human form. 

“Are you alright?” she asked. That was usually a good way to start with nonviolent ghosts.

The person stiffened and whirled around. The first thing that Sam noticed was the tuft of white atop his head and the second thing-

A small cry for help. The tug increased and it almost felt like it wanted to yank her core out of her chest. She swallowed thickly and stood her ground. 

He narrowed his eyes at her ever so slightly. 

“Fine,” he replied curtly after a moment.

Sam scowled in return, a spark of temper rising. “Obviously not.” As much as she’d wished for a ghost earlier she didn’t want to deal with one so late at night, especially not one that could do whatever this was to her core-

“Deep breaths Sam,” instructed Tucker.

Sam inhaled deeply.

Danny prodded her and she refocused on the ghost. He hated when their attention was away from potential dangers for too long. 

“Sorry, I’m a bit short after dealing with,” Sam motioned in the direction of the main room, “all that. But seriously, what’s up?”

The ghost man scoffed and eyed her. “I’m not keen on spilling my guts to a stranger,” he said, voice barely above a hostile growl.

“Fair enough,” Sam said, appraising him. She was given the impression that he too found all the rich people business distasteful. Striding forward, she noted how he tensed as though he was ready to bolt at the drop of a hat. Thrusting her hand out in a very ill-bred manner and hoping it would put him at ease, she said, “I’m Manes.”

The man snorted. “Jason,” he said, accepting the handshake. 

Several things became apparent one after another.

Firstly, she could feel his core as it reached for her. This ghost’s core was so weak, so fragile that it wasn’t even really a core. It was a proto-core, meaning that it wasn’t formed from a death, and this ghost shouldn’t even be outside of the Ghost-Zone. He was basically an infant.

Secondly, the hand was warm. Warm as a human hand was, warm like it was alive.

And with how solid the man was and how fragile the proto-core was, there was no way that he was a ghost.

Sam tried not to stare at the very human man who was also a baby ghost. 

Jason raised a brow at her and she yanked her hand back like the contact burned when she realized that she’d been holding his hand for longer than what was polite.

Danny seemed to be coming to some conclusion as he turned the information around in his mind and Tucker was rooting through what they knew about ghost formation from some of his files. 

“Are you sick?” she blurted. It was the only thing she could think of. If Jason was slowly dying and had something he was passionate enough about to become an obsession then it might be possible that a core had started forming.  

Jason huffed out a puff of air that might have been a laugh. “No.” One of his hands made an aborted motion towards his side, like he was going to grab something and thought better of it. “I just got out here. Can’t I get even a moment to myself?” he complained. 

She snorted. She would’ve been more than happy to leave him to his own devices and would have if it wasn’t for the fact that he was a baby ghost. “Guess not,” she replied instead. 

“Is he a halfa?” Danny wondered.

Sam immediately refuted it, but Tucker wasn’t so sure. 

“It’s better to check,” insisted Danny.

“How can we tell? I have no equipment,” Sam reminded them as she shifted her gaze out over the snowy trees surrounding the manor. Aloud to Jason she said, “This is a pretty spot.” 

She was skeptical. They’d been told over and over how rare halfa were. Besides the three of them, Dani-with-an-i, and Vlad-the-supreme-fruitloop there were no others of their species. The common denominator, excluding Dani who had her own circumstances, was Fenton tech. Sam couldn’t fathom how Jason might have been exposed to a portal unless he was a clone. Turning, she looked him over again.

He was well built, likely had an active lifestyle, and had black hair and blue eyes. Sam found her own eyes drawn to the tuft of white on his head, and now that she thought about it, Vlad had a streak of white in both of his forms. Yet, Jason didn’t look like Vlad. 

Tucker added that he could’ve been a test tube baby and you didn’t have to have one person for that. 

“I don’t think he’s a Vlad experiment. Vlad would’ve never let him go, weak core or no,” Sam pondered.

“Unless he escaped,” Danny agreed.

“But then how’d he end up here?” asked Tucker. That was the most damning question, but life was stranger than fiction. However unlikely it was, they couldn’t discount it until they had proof.

There was a mental knock from Tucker and Sam let him in. He was seeing though her eyes, she could tell, and she made sure Tucker could see Jason’s face.

“Wait- that’s Jason Todd!” Tucker exclaimed with disbelief.

“Who?” Sam and Danny chorused.

“One of Bruce Wayne’s adopted sons. He supposedly died before he turned up alive. Or well, maybe he’s not so alive…”

Danny’s presence joined Tuckers in seeing through her eyes.

Sam was going to have to look into more Jason Todd later, but right now she was incredulous. “He might actually be like us?”

“Or maybe that’s just typical of resurrection?” Danny tentatively offered. “It’s not like we know if he really died or not. And we deal with the already dead. Have we ever even met a resurrected person? Can you really resurrect a person?”

“What do you mean, might be like us?” Jason asked. The hard edge to his voice was back.

“I’m going to tell him,” Sam decided. 

Tucker agreed enthusiastically and Danny cautiously. Jason had a core, however faint, and that meant the Anti-Ecto Acts applied to him.

Sam looked around. “There’s no one nearby, right?”

“No, there isn’t,” Jason replied guardedly.

Sam squinted at him but decided to get on with it. “Alright. Look. You have a core. A weak one, granted, but that’s enough to get you captured and vivisected.”

“What the hell?” Jason asked, rearing back with wide eyes. 

“I have your attention? Good,” Sam said, leaning toward him. “You really died, didn’t you? And when you came back you… well look. Ghosts are real, alright? And you are basically a baby ghost. It… your ghost part is basically screaming for help, that’s how I found you. But!” she said when he opened his mouth, likely to interject, “This means a set of laws called the Anti-Ecto Acts apply to you. By law you are not sentient, never mind other rights. If you get caught you’re toast.”

“Lady you’re insane,” Jason barked, stepping away from her. His core was agitated. 

“I’m trying to keep you after-alive,” she corrected. “The government has these floozies called the Ghost Investigation Ward, but everyone calls them the Guys in White since they wear white. If you see them, run, alright? They’re the ones who will capture and hurt any ghost, even if you’re just minding your own business.”    

Jason shook his head and inched into the hall. “How drunk are you?” he asked.

“Not at all. Listen, just be careful,” Sam sighed.   

Without a backwards glance, Jason left her on the snowy balcony with a snickering Tucker and a pensive Danny.

“Dude, you scared him off,” Tucker chortled.

“I needed to give him the important stuff in case we never meet again,” Sam replied dryly. “Ghosts are hard to accept outside of Amity.”

”I think I’m going to look into how he died and how he might have been brought back,” Tucker announced. Sam could tell he’d already connected with his PDA and was delving into the web for preliminary information, looking for promising leads. 

Danny was nervous but determined. “That’ll help us figure out what he is.”

“It is a new situation,” Sam thought to them as she peered down the hall. 

With a sigh, Danny mentally flopped onto a floor. “I guess I could ask Frostbite about coming back to life and baby ghosts when I get back.”

Sam’s initial, knee jerk reaction was to object and say that they should all go together, but Tucker was already in Amity so Danny wouldn’t be alone.

The two would be fine.

Oh who was she kidding? This was Team Phantom she was thinking about. Something was bound to go awry and she was in no position to help them when the inevitable other shoe dropped.

White, misty condensation swirled in the air as Sam exhaled noisily. She hated this time of year with a passion.

👻 {Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it.)

Next: Chapter 2

[durrtydawg]

A Taste of your Own

{Sam Drake x F!Reader PWP🔞}

Sam's had his fun with you, and earned thousands from screwing you over. Absolutely ravenous to see him humbled, you've devised a plan to get your own back. You could've been the bigger person and let it all go, but it's much more fun to give him a taste of his own medicine. Right?

PLEASE READ THIS VERSION INSTEAD. IT'S GOT A MUCH BETTER ENDING, AND I SHOULD'VE UPLOADED IT FIRST!

(This is your final warning for dubcon and general depravity- head on over to ao3 for more detailed tags- also, it's very long and plotty, so once more, I implore you to read 'Best Served Cold' to jog your memory on previous events that have occurred in this silly little timeline. TY <333)

((Also love and hugs to @bluewingedangel for moral support and listening to my rants, and @lilsnatch ​ for the girl boss encouragement and for providing me with the funniest line in this godforsaken thing. Ily)) 

Word Count: It’s a long old boyo- 11.5k 🥴

“Got a light?"

 Sam takes a long, slow drag, eyes trailing down the length of a tight-fitting emerald dress, then up to the unfamiliar, intricately made-up eyes staring up at him.

 Exhaling smoke, he fishes his hand into his inside pocket. "For you?” He flicks open his lighter and extends it forwards, smiling. “Sure."

 She thanks him, and he watches her face glow orange as her lips envelop her cigarette in the corner of his eye. He smirks to himself.

 Luck is truly on his side tonight; with his recent find landing him an invitation to a renowned antiquities gala, he’d already spent most of the evening scoring potential contracts with an array of fat-pocketed antiques snobs, too lazy to find their own treasure. Now he’s being approached by a late-twenty-something you’d usually only see in a morally dubious magazine.

 Did he deserve such a fruitful evening? Well, yes, he told himself.

 Sure, he wouldn’t have gotten to where he is now without figuratively (and literally) fucking over his ex for the amulet that revealed the treasure’s location…but you started it.

 Right?

 "So,” The woman starts as Sam snaps out of his trance to watch the smoke billow from her mouth. She turns, leaning sideways against the balcony.

 "So." He mirrors her, intrigued as he drags on his cigarette.

 Her eyes give him a once-over. "The infamous Samuel Drake, right. Talk of the town.” She glances over her shoulder into the prestigious function room inside, then turns back with a demure smile. “Better looking than I thought."

 "Oh yeah?" he laughs, exhaling smoke. "You're not too bad yourself."

 She looks at him for a moment, assessing, almost. “Impressive find, I’ve got to say. Hundreds of people were after that amulet…what’s your secret?”

  Foul play? Deceit? Sexual coercion?

 Nobody needs to know all that, so, he taps his nose. She nods, a hint of a smirk on her lips before she takes a drag.

 Sam's intrigued, and undoubtedly attracted to her. He's almost driven to ask her what her deal is until she speaks again.

 "So why are you out here all alone? Finally had enough of all the attention?" She smirks.

 He smiles briefly, shaking his head, looking back out at the landscape in front of him. He’ll never get enough of the attention.

 "Just needed a moment to myself. Reflecting, I suppose." He waves his cigarette in front of him, flicking a bit of ash over the balcony.

 She smiles wistfully, toying with her necklace. "Shame."

 "Hm?" He questions, taking another puff.

 "I know it’s quite forward…” She begins, timidly. Sam turns to her fully, an inquisitive simper on his face.

 “I was going to see if you'd be up for a…different kind of attention. But if you'd rather be alone..." She stubs out her cigarette on the balcony and throws it over the edge.

 Sam coughs as he exhales, eyes following her falling cigarette as they widen slightly. She grabs the lapels of his suit jacket, pretending to straighten them out, regaining his full attention as he tries to appear unfazed.

 "I can just leave."

 His eyes flicker between hers and her hands on his jacket.

 "Not even gonna buy me a drink first, huh?" Sam jokes, unsure of her severity.

 She smooths her hands down his front with a shrug, before clasping her hands behind her back.

 "Sure."

 He straightens his posture, smirk reinstating itself. "You're...serious, aren't you?"

 "What's your poison?" She simply replies, plucking the cigarette from his hand. She takes a drag before stumping it out whilst Sam shakes his head in amusement.

 Still got it, he thinks. Scrap that. He knows.

 He takes a quick glance between the bustling interior of the function hall, and the stunning stranger in front of him.

 Fuck it, he also thinks.

 "Surprise me, sweetheart."

 *

 For the first time in ages, you’re willingly in the same building as Sam.

 He looks, admittedly, as attractive as ever...honestly, it's unfortunate that the corporate nine-to-five lifestyle wasn't something he'd ever fit into. Seeing him in a suit is always a sight for sore eyes.

 It's a shame he doesn't know you're here. He'd lap up such a compliment.

 Focus.

 Upon further inspection, you notice a beautiful young woman slowly approach your ex as he- surprise, sur-fucking-prise- smokes over the balcony. She gets his attention, and he extends his lighter with a smirk. You shift in your seat.

 That one-dimensional, irritating- no, infuriating smirk sets off a cacophony of emotions within you. Annoyingly conflicting emotions. Again. For fuck’s sake.

 Inhaling, you refuse to give in to being irritated, and instead admire the ornate chandelier above you as you take a seat at the function room’s bar. Once you get the disinterested waiter’s attention, you order the easiest red wine to pronounce- it'll match your dress. A killer dress, might I add.

 You look stunning; fashionable hair, extra weight in all the right places, a little more makeup than usual. Self-esteem has taken a huge leap forward for you since you last saw him, and in turn, you're almost unrecognisable.

 You thank the waiter as he slides you your wine glass, and at the same time internally thank whatever higher power there may be for the invention of the free bar as you swivel back around to overlook the bustling room, making sure to strategically cover the lump in your dress around your thigh with your bag. More on that later.

 You swirl your wine around its glass, watching as the woman runs her hands up his blazer, your nails impatiently tapping.

 After a moment, she turns and begins to walk back into the hall. You watch Sam grin to himself, shaking his head and cracking his knuckles as he turns back out to the vineyard. You take a gulp of your wine, letting it sit in your mouth for a moment, trying not to wince. It’s bitter. So are you.

 You turn back to the bar as the woman approaches and leans beside you, waving the waiter over.

 “You were right.”

 You don’t look at her as she speaks, nor she you, but you bite back a grin as you swallow your wine, relieved.

 “It really didn’t take much at all.” She laughs before ordering two neat bourbons.

 You take another quick sip. “Told you it’d be easy. Can’t keep it in his pants.” She laughs at your comment.

 You can officially tick ‘befriending an escort’ off your bucket list.

 Ah yes. A recap.

 Sam's inability to ‘keep it in his pants’ acted as fuel for your initial fire towards him, and of course, a few months ago, that same inability led to you leaving an old manor house empty-handed, in what is perhaps the most humiliated (and sticky) state you have ever been.

 After some time to recoup, it dawned on you that it's time for Sam's hamartia to really hit him where it hurts.

 Hiring an escort was...interesting, but an efficient way to get what you want. Going through the nuances of your plan with said escort after being promised a hefty discount for doing so was even more interesting.

 But hey, it got the job done.

 “He’s good looking.” You scoff as she says this. You agree, of course, but you can’t give in to that just yet. “Shame about the personality, though.”

 You nod, downing the rest of your wine. “How long?”

 “Hmm…give us half an hour. Text me when you’re nearby.” The waiter pushes two crystal tumblers towards her. She picks them up and turns to leave. Before she walks away, she smiles at you.

 “We’ve got him right where you want him, honey.” She winks, and you crack a smile as she walks away.

 She’s right. You’ve got him exactly where you want him, and you couldn’t be more excited.

 *

 Ending up in some girl’s hotel room on the brink of what he hopes is going to be a one-night stand wasn’t on Sam’s list of expectations for the day. Hope of a one-night stand, of course, because his commitment issues have been through the roof since you.

 That relationship began with what he thought would’ve been a one-night stand, too.

 He’d never wanted a long-term relationship until you came along, and he nearly hated the fact that he was the cause of its end.

 What? No, that’s bullshit! Sure, he messed up. No excuse for you to threaten to kill him, steal all the notes you’d both made on your treasure trail, and fuck off, almost without a trace.

 Anyway, why on earth was he thinking about you whilst he had his tongue down the throat of a total ten inside a swanky hotel room, without having done any of the hard work himself?

  Don’t be a clown, Samuel. Enjoy the moment.

 The ‘ten’ pulls away, breathless. She bites her lip with a smile, tracing Sam’s stubbled jawline with her thumb.

 He sees cogs turning in her head. Intriguing.

 "I want to tie you up."

 Oh.

 Well, that certainly puts a spanner in the works.

 Sam breathes heavily, hands still at her waist whilst her nails trace over his skin. Her other hand reaches the side table for her bourbon. He stares at her, brows knitted together, somewhat lost for words.

 He’s not into that… Is he into that?

 "You want to…"

 “Tie you up. Yep.” She pops the ‘p’, flashing him a coquettish smile, taking a sip before laying her arms over his shoulders. Sam remains silent, mulling it over in his mind as the half-melted ice clinks in the glass held behind him.

 Plucky.

 Maybe he’s not entirely opposed. It's...different. Not something you would’ve done to him.

 She brings the glass round to him, tilting it encouragingly towards his lips.

 "Oh no." She whispers, tilting the glass further. He takes a sip, frowning a little. "You're not…insecure, are you?"

 Oh. The ‘I’ word. Sam's brow quirks. God no, he’s not insecure. Trust issues? Sure. In abundance, in fact. But he’s not insecure. He swallows.

 He assesses her, catching a glimpse of a mischievous glint, and he knows she's just having him on.

 "All right." He smirks, hand sliding down to her hip, squeezing ever so slightly as she places her empty glass down, “But not the whole time.”

 “Not the whole time.” she repeats with a slow nod, fingers entangling themselves in his hair.

 Tie already undone, he single-handedly unbuttons his collar, making a start on the top third of his shirt buttons as he gently guides her onto the edge of the vanity with his other hand on her waist. She smiles into his mouth, letting go of his hair to push back impishly, wheedling a smirk from Sam as he rolls with it, allowing her to guide him backwards until the back of his thigh collides with something.

 He forces his lips away from hers for a moment to kick the chair he’s just bumped into out of his way, but she drags him back round by the chin to look at her. He raises an inquisitive brow, slightly breathless.

 “Sit.” She utters, hands moving to his chest. Sam glances back at the chair. It’s one of those fancy ones with glossy, carved spindles and upholstered cushioning riveted into the seat. No arms. All the easier for her to sit on top of him. Nice.

 He’s not usually one for being told what to do. But what’s the harm in giving in just once?

 He smirks back at her. “You want me to-oh, okay.” His sentence doesn’t finish as she gently pushes on him, so he has no choice but to sit down. He narrows his eyes up at her in a sort of smirky smoulder that she reciprocates as she walks behind him.

 She pulls at the strip of tie hanging under his collar, snaking it away from him as she nips at the newly exposed birds on his neck.

 He relaxes into the chair as her hands squeeze at his biceps. She eventually grips with an exaggerated tightness, pulling his arms behind him, round the back of the chair. Sam laughs in shock of her strength, and plays along, impressed.

 He holds his own hands in place as she gathers the tie in hers, slowly wrapping it around his wrists as he wriggles in anticipation. She loops it round and through, Sam turning his head to try and watch what she’s doing, but he can’t quite turn enough.

 “So obedient. Must make a change, right?” She provokes, close to the shell of his ear. He goes to reciprocate with some smart remark, but she pulls hard on the tie, harshly pulling his wrists together a lot harder than anticipated, and he winces slightly.

 “Take it easy, gorgeous.” He flexes his hands. She chuckles lightly, making another knot and pulling again. “Jeez-ah, Jesus, are you trying to screw up my circulation or something?” He jokes with slight unease as she yanks the knot tighter.

 A buzz from her bag on the table attracts her attention, and she turns her attention from Sam to look at her phone.

 She types something, phone screen lighting up a smirk on her face. “What are you-”

 “Hold on.”

 Sam leans forwards, lips parted in astonishment at her sudden disengagement from her own idea.

 “Uh…hi?” An unamused laugh from Sam breaks the silence, “I hate to interrupt…but…this is kinda awkward.”

 She finally turns back to him as he glares at her, his expression tentative as she moues at him.

 “Sorry, sweetie,” She drawls, forefinger neatening her smudged lipstick. “Just a little…admin.” She chuckles, waving her phone around before sliding it back into her purse.

 Admin? He straightens his posture. Something’s not right.

 Time to plaster on one of his most charming smiles. “You know what? I…don’t think I’m all that into this, so do you mind…” He turns his head to look towards his bound wrists, “takin’ this off?”

 She twists her mouth in thought, and for a moment, Sam thinks she’s going to say no. Silently fretting, he tries as subtly as he can to pick at the knot, but she’s tied it so fucking tight and complexly that he can barely move his hands around to reach it, let alone figure out how to untie it.

 It’s a goddamn necktie. How has she managed that?

 “Okay.” She pouts, clearly disappointed, yet meanders around to the back of the chair. Sam quietly sighs in relief.

 She stands behind the chair, bending, hands snaking over his shoulders and onto his collar. She squeezes his shoulders a little, before dipping close to his ear.

 “A small word of advice.”

 That’s a significant tonal shift. He frowns in perplexity, turning as much as he can to face her.

 “At least get to know a girl’s name before they get you into such a…compromising position.”

 His frown deepens, concern filtering its way into his bloodstream. “What do you-”

 “For someone as intelligent as you supposedly are, you think an awful lot with your dick.” She offers a complacent grin.

 Her phone buzzes again, magnetising both of their attention. She approaches her bag and picks it up- meanwhile Sam’s frown begins to loosen into one of perturbed realisation.

 “What are you doing?” He pushes, knee rapidly bouncing in apprehension. “Hey!” He shouts, as she turns to approach the door.

 He’s indisputably flustered now, and no matter how hard he tries to yank the tie off his wrists, all he achieves is sore friction on his skin. “Where the fuck are you going?” He glares frantically between the woman and his arms behind him, masking his distress with fury.

 “What-” She blows a kiss towards him before closing the door.

 Shit, shit, shit. What the hell is going on?

 There are a lot of dangerous people at this gala, but who has he pissed off enough to get him alone like this? Who was she with? What in God’s name has he gotten himself into know?

 He doesn’t know anyone here, apart from a few old flames from the treasure-hunting circuit…

 No, no. Escape now, figure it out later.

 Escape. Right. Ugh, if he could just get his thumb under that bump in the knot- shit. Lost it.

 The sound of a beeping key card and a click from the door handle should’ve drawn Sam’s attention, but he’s too concerned with getting himself free.

 “I swear,” He flexes his knuckles before turning back around to look at the door, in hopes that the woman is back to get him out, only to tell him it was just some senseless attempt at foreplay, “if you’re not back here to untie me, I’ll…”

 He trails off, and everything falls into place.

 Collapsing into the chair, he wheezes a laugh, his stare saturated with hostility.

 You.

 “You’ll what?" You sneer slyly, leaning against the door as you lock it, tossing the key card and your purse onto a lavish side table.

 He snickers up to the ceiling; cold, humourless.

 “Well,” It’s tongue-in-cheek, but it’s crystal clear that he’s livid. “Isn’t this just goddamn perfect.” He seethes, eyes narrowed in annoyance as he secures murderous eye contact with you.

 “I know, right! Got ’cha good.” You’re chipper. Thrilled, even. He hates it.

 “The hell is this?" he spits, briefly looking behind him to see if he’s made any progress with the knot. He hasn’t.

 You frown, folding your arms as a smile plays on your lips.

 “Take a guess.”

 Sam’s shoulders flex again; another feeble attempt at loosening the tie. He scowls at you.

 "Enlighten me." he spits through gritted teeth.

 You shrug, nonchalantly inspecting your nails. “Let’s backtrack six months or so-”

 “I was being rhetorical.”

 “I don’t care.” You’re quick to respond, and the sudden stern tone of your voice renders him silent again.

 “After that stunt you pulled in Wales, I was livid, and nothing brought me more joy than the prospect of tracking you down and really hurting you. Ending your life, even.”

 Sam shifts, still struggling. You bite back a grin at his slight display of anxiety. “You are a conniving little-”

 “But,” you cut him off, holding your hands up defensively, “After some time to think, I realised there was some sick part of me that wanted more than that.” His knee bounces, and whilst he snubs the idea of looking at you directly, you can tell by the way his eyes focus on your collarbone that he’s listening. “As much as it pains me to admit it, that’s something we both have in common, isn’t it?”

 He shakes his head, you presume, because he’s in denial of his current position. He squints, genuinely perplexed. “The hell are you talkin’ about?”

 “I guess you did what you did to me because you wanted to prove you were the one in control, right? You could’ve just threatened me, stolen the amulet, and left. But no. You used me- my body, to make you feel good- hell, to make me feel good,” You lean, tilting your head to force him into eye contact, “As I’m sure you recall.”

 His frown deepens, though the anger begins to subside, now joined by confined confusion.

 “This insatiable masochism, let’s call it, is eating away at both of us, and it doesn’t seem to matter how much we hate each other, there’s always going to be a mutual, undermining need that won’t go away.”

 He grunts out a mirthless laugh, tongue grazing against his top teeth as he, again, tries fruitlessly to wrench his wrists free. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but it sounds like nonsense to me.” He mumbles. You tut.

 “Thought you were smart, Sam.” Your tongue toys with your molar as you stare at him. “Regardless, I’m gonna let you choose how this is gonna play out.”

 He gives up with the rope, slumping with an angry sigh. “Oh, how kind’a you.”

 You scrunch your face up in a sickly smile before you crouch in front of him.

 “Let’s see if you can get that smart noggin of yours to make a wise choice.” you form a fist, knocking on his temple as if it were a door; he aggressively shunts you off with a grumble. “Option one,” You push the slit in your dress aside, revealing a small pistol you’ve tucked away in a thigh holster.

 It’s left an imprint. Hmm, maybe you’ll get its outline tattooed as a tasteful reminder.

 You look back up at him, clocking the concern in his furrowed brows just before it’s replaced by his deadpan façade. “I blow your brains out, perhaps like I should’ve done what? A year ago?”

 His lip quirks. “You’re hilarious.”

 “Oh, I’m-” You laugh, unceremoniously pulling out the gun, standing again to lean over him. “I’m not joking, Sam.” The barrel is pushed his chin, forcing him to tilt his head back. For a split second, there’s a flash of something in his eyes as his throat bobs against the gun, like his confidence subdued itself. Fleeting, but enough for you to work with.

 “What are you do-”

 “Shush for a sec, please.” You click the safety off, your free hand resting on the back of the chair beside Sam’s shoulder.

 “Unbelievable.” He whispers, eyes closed.

 “Yeah, not a particularly fun evening for either of us. Plus, I’m not exactly dressed for scrubbing your blood out of this extremely pricey looking carpet. Still, it's an option.” His throat bobs up and down. Your tongue instinctively darts out onto your bottom lip.

 “Your alternative?” Sam’s breathing quickens ever so slightly as he mutters a few choice expletives. His eyes dart around the room as he tries to calculate some sort of escape, but you’re confident that such a chance is nigh on impossible. “You let me, pfft, how do I say it… you let me have my way with you. Get…even, let’s say.” You speak with all the nonchalance in the world, and Sam double-takes at you so dramatically that it’s almost comedic.

 “Jesus Christ.” He expresses, hazarding an uneasy glance at you. “You’re not…on something, are ya?”

 “Nothing but the desire to humble you, handsome.” You wink, catching a glimpse of what you think might be an endearing glint in his eyes. That, or he thinks this is all a huge prank.

 Is little miss happy-go-lucky almost beginning to make Sam feel…at ease? If you can keep it up for much longer, you might see yourself slide into more lenient grounds.

 He shakes his head in disbelief to the best of his ability. “Okay, but seriously.” He chuckles to himself. “You’re proposing…that I screw you?”

 Crass. His grin evolves into a smirk. It’s irritating. Goodbye, potential lenience.

 “No. That implies you’re in charge. I’m proposing that I ‘screw’ you.” He closes his eyes and takes a breath as you continue, lowering your air quotes. “It’d be…cathartic for me. I think you owe me that much, huh, Sam?”

 Sam laughs disdainfully through his nose. “I don’t owe you anything, sweetheart.”

 You bite your lower lip, your brief silence rendering Sam cocky. Sigh. Time to put an end to that.

 “I suppose there’s a third option.” You smile, beginning to drag the gun downwards, over his chest until it meets the outer side of his thigh. His eyes begin to follow, but you harshly cup his jaw, forcing him to look up at you. He grits his teeth, looking up at you with contempt and…there it is again, that microscopic hint of admiration.

 “What if…” You can’t help but let a huff of laughter escape you, “What if I took this gun, rammed it right up your ass, and maybe pulled the trigger?” You bite hard on your cheek as you hold back an onslaught of laughter.

 You can’t help it…the abrupt, pure, unadulterated horror on Sam’s face is enough to send anyone spiralling into giggles. Again, impeccable comedic timing on his part, even if it is completely unintentional.

 You take a pinch of metaphorical salt and rub it into his wounded ego. “We never tried pegging, did we? And the silencer in my suitcase is a good six inches or so, so-”

 “Oh my God, you really think you’re going to get away with this, don’t you? Thought it all through, huh? Some goddamn genius you are.” Oh, the venomous, panicked sarcasm.

 You chuckle, patronisingly pinching his cheek. “Ooo, scared?”

 “What?” He snaps, shaking you off. You let it slide- this is all too entertaining. “Of you?” He laughs. “Just insanely aggravated.”

 “Hmm. Aggravated, scared, Comme ci, comme ça.” You beam.

 Sam scoffs again, shaking his head as he flexes his fingers in irritation. Is that his only form of defence? Idiot.

 “There are people all over this damn building. As soon as you-”

 “So, yell. Make a fuss. Call for help. I haven’t gagged you, have I?” You interrupt, crouching in front of him again. Steadying yourself with a hand on his knee, you grin as Sam tilts his head up to the ceiling, grunting in annoyance. You bite your thumbnail in thought for a second, a playful gleam in your eye.

 “Hold on, let’s give it a shot.” You grin mischievously, pointing at the gun, satisfied with your unintentional pun as you skip over to the door. You unlock and open it, holding onto the doorframe as you excitably swing yourself outside, gun on full display. Like you give a fuck.

 “Hey!” You shout, biting your lip, grinning whilst you wait a second. No one. “I’ve got a loaded gun and my horrible ex-boyfriend tied up in here. Anyone want to help him out?!”

 You wait just a few more seconds. Still no one. You tut, turning back to shrug at Sam. “Guess no one gives a shit. Oh well, was worth a go.”

 You re-lock the door and lean against it with a deliberately dramatic sigh. Eyes falling on Sam, you feel your breath hitch slightly at the way his eyes bore into you with an intense hatred, fuelled further by his own mounting indignity. You approach him again, stooping in front of him.

 You’re really riling him up now- the way his face twitches in what you assume is anger is oh-so-satisfying.

 “Don’t look at me like that, it’s not like you’d do it. You’ve got too much pride, haven’t you?” Your hand squeezes his knee, until something slightly further up catches your eye.

 A smirk tugs on your lips. “Unless…maybe pride’s the wrong word.” Your empty hand glides slowly up his thigh, stopping next to the slight newfound strain in the fabric of his trousers.

 “Fuck off.” He hisses, hunching in an attempt at hiding the tent he’s started pitching.

 You gasp mockingly, enjoying his effort to mask his humiliation by glaring straight at you. “Samuel. Is that a stolen amulet you’ve got tucked away there, or are you just happy to see me?”

 He shakes his leg with a huff, getting you to remove your hand. You laugh, pushing yourself up. “Oh my God, see what I mean? You just can’t help yourself, can you?”

 He bristles, unsettled. “So…so, you set me up with a smoking hot girl, get her to come onto me all kinky and tie me to a damn chair, and you’re surprised that I’m hard?” He asks, defensively narrowing his eyes at you.

 You scoff, scrunching up your face in a doubtful expression. “No, no, no, that wasn’t there two minutes ago.” You bite your lip and prepare to tease before you clasp your hand over your mouth with a gasp. “Ohhh, did all that talk about shoving something up your-”

 “I can wholeheartedly assure you that that is not the case.” He brusquely cuts you off, flourishing his sentence with a short-lived, sarcastic smile.

 “Shame.” You pout, but you’re after more. “So, it’s me, then. Humiliating you.” You question, sincerely, searching for an answer in his apathetic expression. But he won’t give you that satisfaction.

 Sam closes his eyes and sighs, trying to push away the twinge of agreement you’d stung him with.

  She can’t keep you here forever. You’ll have your moment.

 “You’re really gonna make me do this, huh?”

 You stare at him for a moment before you snap out of your thoughts and nod, tossing the gun impatiently between your hands.

 "Then…I think you know what ‘option’ I'm gonna go for, don't'ya?"

 You grin, putting the gun’s safety back on.

 "Quick question.” you begin, throwing the pistol onto the bed on the other side of the large room.

 “Fire away.” He replies with sardonic enthusiasm.

 You jeer, unclasping the holster from your thigh, chucking it onto the bed beside the gun. “Do you have any shame?"

 Sam draws in a breath, then sighs up to the ceiling. "A little. Though, probably not the amount you want me to have.” He smiles bitterly, foot tapping with impatience. Or anxiety…Both?

 You tut with mock sympathy. "Oh, don't you worry. We've got all night."

 You get close, smirk fading as your jaw clenches. “Rest assured, when we’re done, you are going to feel that same shame that I felt after you shoved me over that countertop, tied my hands behind my back and fucked me speechless without a say in the matter.”

 Sam initially refuses to look you in the eye, and instead glares towards the floor, jaw clenching and unclenching rapidly.

 “Hmm. Something on your mind, Sammy?” You ask in faux concern. He hates being called that.

 His mouth twitches and he laughs bitterly through his nose as he regains eye contact with you.

 A sudden harsh kick to your leg sends you stumbling backwards slightly, and you grunt in mild pain. You’re fast though, because before Sam can make whatever move he was planning, you stamp hard on his shoe and grab him by the throat.

 “No.” You shake your head slowly.

 “Shit.” He mutters, glaring at you whilst trying to hide a wince. He grunts at the sensation of your nails digging into his skin, holding himself as still as possible.

 You grit your teeth, widening your eyes with warning. "Trying to get me to call you a bad boy, Sam? Bit unoriginal, don’t you think?"

 "I slipped." he lies, attempting to mask his oh-so-evident apprehension with anger as he looks down.

 "Better make sure you don't ‘slip’ again."

 He looks back to the ground like a schoolboy who’s just been given a week’s detention in front of his whole class.

 If you could see his humiliation levels on a thermometer, they’d be reaching a gentle simmer.

 You want to laugh. You don't. Instead, you stare at his lips. Something about that slight pout he does when he's unimpressed is endearing. He gulps against your hand, defeated. What’s he got to lose?

 "So…are you going to get this over with or are you gonna keep running your bitch mou-"

 A searing sting across the face deems Sam silent. Eyes closed; he huffs in surprise as he keeps his head leant to the side.

 Did you just…slap him?

 You laugh in disbelief. “Really?” You mutter, ignoring the sore tingle taking over your palm as you flex your fingers. “Hey. Look at me.”

 You've literally got him tied to a chair, a loaded gun nearby...and he’s still disrespecting you.

 Fuck it.

 “Jesus! Okay!” He hisses as you deliver another smack to the other side of his face. He squirms, anxiously looking at you as you stare at his crotch, newly entertained.

 No, no, shit, not again. His eyes are wide. He begins to panic.

 “Oh!” You can’t help but laugh in delight. That thermometer is fast approaching boiling point. “Is that…another new thing for you?” You offer a deriding glance at his growing erection, gnawing at your lip. “Samuel Drake. Enjoys getting smacked in the face. Who knew.”

 “Screw you.” He retorts quickly, cheeks rosy- though something tells you not only because of the hits.

 “We’ll get to that.” You snicker as he watches you begin to roll your dress up your torso. You pull the fabric over your chest, and he can’t help but fixate on your bra for a second, observing you in a trance-like state, your actions catching him off-guard.

 Fuck, she’s still gorgeous, he thinks, much to his own chagrin. Smells good, too. Sweet. Like caramel, he notes as you climb onto the chair, placing your legs over Sam’s spread ones.

 Ugh what? No, he loathes you. And now, shit, you’re on top of him- in your underwear- and he can’t pull his stare away from the way the warm lamp light flows over your soft curves and casts highlights in your hair, and God, he’s transfixed by that caramel scent.

 You'd always reminded him of the stuff. Not the ooey, gooey, pretty, golden type, but the hard, chewy type that hurts the roof of your mouth and gets stuck in your teeth.

 Like said caramel, you've also caused him irreparable damage over a long period of time, but there’s something so addictive about you that Sam couldn't ever put his finger on.

 He hates you but, God help him, you’re right about that ‘insatiable masochism’; you're stuck in his fucking teeth and he’s really struggling to shift his craving for more-

 “Suck.” You demand, placing your thumb at the corner of his mouth.

 He stares at you, mouth agape as he snaps out of his daze. "I-" his eyes close and he shakes his head, before glaring at you with a façade of disgust. "No, no, I, uh," he laughs, nervously this time as you single-handedly unclasp your bra. The poor guy doesn’t know where to look. "I…can't do that." He clears his throat.

 "Sure, you can." you pout, tone nauseatingly sweet. You cup his cheek in your hand, thumb moving towards his lip as his eyes are glued to your chest as you hurl your bra to the floor- to his own surprise he doesn't try to shake you off. Maybe because your perfect tits are now sitting right at eye level, and he can’t help but absorb the sight of them for a moment.

 Sam feels himself breathe slightly faster, as your thumb rests on his bottom lip.

 "It’s not difficult." you whisper, gently hooking your thumb over his bottom teeth, pulling his jaw open slowly. Again, despite his small grunt of discomfort, he lets it happen, fascinated by what you’ve become.

 You gently push his mouth closed around your thumb with the rest of your hand, and Sam unconsciously jolts his hips upwards into…nothing. Oops.

 You snicker, and he finally looks up at you, eyes glassy- hypnotised. Though, he must notice you’re pleased because he blinks quickly and settles back into a frown. That alone is enough to send coils of warmth through you, ending up right where it matters most.

 “Just admit it. This whole taunting thing is really getting you going, isn’t it."

 Of course it is. But he’s not about to give you the gratification of vocally admitting it. He despises you. He should bite your thumb off.

 You narrow your eyes at him, sliding your thumb over his tongue. He grunts and tries to jerk his head away, but you hold him in place with a vice-like grip and he scowls.

 “Don’t be sour. This is all your own doing.” you chitter, and he rolls his eyes.

 God, what is she droning on about now, he thinks as you shift yourself forwards, lowering yourself a little.

 Sam feels himself swallow as your groin presses down onto his. You search for his eyes as he refuses again to make direct eye contact. “I mean, I didn’t force you to pop a boner.”

 Grow up. Get your heart rate under control, you’re not sixteen for chrissakes. It’s not like she’s touching your- oh.

 He sinks further into the chair as you roll your hips a little, tittering at his reaction.

 You slowly pull your thumb out of his mouth, rubbing it slowly along his bottom lip before you gently angle his chin up towards you. His eyes close, and you grin as you watch his eyelids flicker in what must be some serious internal conflict.

 “It’s a good thing I’m not much like you.” you lean further forward, pressing your chest onto his, skin lightly touching skin. “I’m slower. More patient.” You lower your hand, undoing the button then the zipper on his trousers. Sam watches, brows furrowed in a wonderful display of trepidation, embarrassment, and of course intoxication.

 Your hand snakes underneath the zipper, but you’re fixated on the lustful haze gradually thickening over his eyes. He writhes a little as your fingers stroke slowly over the remaining layer of material keeping him from being exposed. He stifles a gasp as you delicately begin to palm him.

 Christ. What is he supposed to do? He can’t get up, and he sure as hell can’t control the blood flow to his- oh lord. You squeeze hard, and it takes every ounce of willpower not to release the sound trapped at the back of his throat, so instead, he screws his eyes shut.

 You leer down at him, moving your other hand from his chin, toying with his soft curls. “I can hate you, but still show you love.” You pull back the elastic of his boxers and he watches with inner turmoil as you begin to lazily jerk him off. God, he’s hard.

 His chest rapidly rising and falling, and the sight of him, unable to move while you straddle him, makes heat continue to rise to your core- though you can’t let your arousal distract you just yet.

 “But you?” Your nails dig lightly into his scalp, and he flinches. Still silent, though. “You’re fuelled by lust. That’s why I always knew this was always going to work.”

 Your thumb glides over the head of his cock and he inhales sharply. Smudging a bead of precum back over the tip forces a small throaty groan from Sam, and you grin as his eyes flick up to you to check whether you heard. He knows you did…he’s just in denial.

 “As soon as you can sense you’re going to get your dick wet, all your logic just flies out the window.”

 “Sh…shut up.” He grumbles, leaning back into the chair, unsure of whether his eyes should be open or shut.

 “You shut up.” You retaliate; the hand that’s nestled into his hair suddenly tugs on the roots, extracting a startled moan from him as you pull his face harshly towards your breast.

 He grunts, trying his hardest to pull his head from your grip but he underestimates your strength.

 “Knock it off!” He groans, albeit slightly muffled, but you stand your ground and calmly continue to rub at his cock. His chest heaves in a mixture of frustration and urging- it’s amusing to watch.

 “Open wide, pretty boy.” You taunt, holding him as close to where you want him as possible.

 “I’ll bite your damn nipple off, you bi-ah! Ffffuck!”

 You almost allow him to call you a bitch again, but it’s nothing a swift grab of the balls can’t solve. “I can squeeze harder if you want, Samuel.” You sneer.

 “Go to hell-ahh, ow, Jesus!” You press with your nails, and he bucks into your grip to try and loosen the pressure. “Fuck-f-fine! Just stop that, will ya?” He pleads through gritted teeth.

 “Suck. It.” you force with full sincerity, both hands loosening their respective grip. He stares at you, breathless, scornful. If looks could kill, you’d be dead five times over.

 “Oh. Kay.” He snarls like a spoiled brat, before reluctantly leaning forwards under your scrutinising gaze. He closes his eyes, muttering something under his breath before he opens his mouth and latches grudgingly onto your nipple.

 You begin to massage his scalp as you look at each other; you with smug satisfaction, and him thinking up a million-and-one ways to make you suffer. You’re fully aware of this, but it only makes you more thrilled to be in this position.

 “Look at you.” you coo, humming in contented satisfaction. “Do it properly and I might return the favour…down here.” You watch his brows struggle to hold their frown as his cock gradually re-stiffens in your hand.

 Goddamnit, his shoulders and wrists are aching, and he wants nothing more than to hold you down and choke you out, but he can’t deny how good your hand feels wrapped around him. He can only imagine how much better your mouth would feel- Christ, if he’s going to get anything out of this at all, it’s the ability to shut you up for a few minutes while you suck him off, so he obeys. For now.

 You sigh as his warm tongue swirls around your nipple, his teeth gently grazing alongside.

 “That’s good.” You whisper, continuing to immerse your fingers into his hair- grip looser, but still spiked with warning. He lets out a long-held breath through his nose, eyes fluttering shut, and you take it as your cue to quicken your hand’s pace.

 And so, it goes on. He can hardly believe that this is really happening. Of all the things he’s gotten himself into, this was up there with the most ludicrous.

 As the next few seconds progress, you hear his breathing gradually get more erratic, feeling his head grow heavier in your grip. The bastard’s close.

 With all his might, he’s trying to keep quiet, but maintaining such composure is becoming more arduous by the second.

 You, on the other hand, are maintaining perfect control.

 The heat between your legs is progressing into something that would otherwise be insanely distracting, but your sole focus is on Sam’s increasing lethargy, and how your hand alone has gotten him to a somewhat obedient state. Even if it is reluctant for now. Go you.

 Gently tugging on his hair, you bring him away from you, tilting his chin up so he’s forced to look at you. He’s trying so so hard to remain stoic, but he’s flushed, lips parted with need, thighs tensing.

 You dip down, leaning into him so your lips are mere millimetres apart. “You’re close, aren’t you.” You tease, gripping harder as your other hand continues undoing the buttons on his half-opened shirt. His eyes squeeze shut, but other than his erratic breathing, he remains silent. You lean around to his ear, and he shifts, shoes scuffing against the plush carpet. “Do you want me to make you cum?”

 “Holy shhh-“ He cuts himself off, trying to concentrate.

 “I asked you a question, Sam.”

 Ignored. Again.

 You slow your movement.

 He tries to buck his hips into to your hand in a desperate attempt to gain the last bit of friction he needs to orgasm, but you’re too observant, and before he can quite get there, you let go completely, pushing yourself up and off him.

 Sam releases a guttural, close-mouthed growl of exasperation as he writhes around in the chair. “Of course.” He mutters, and as he tries to regulate his breathing, you kneel in front of him, a conceited look on your face.

 “All you had to do was answer me.”

 He wants to call you every cruel name under the sun, but that’ll ruin his chances of any further physical contact, and as much as he’d loathe to confess, he’s reached the point of no return.

 He pants up to the ceiling, a humourless smile wavering on and off. “All I had to-” He shakes his head, biting his lip in frustration. “You know what?” he glowers down at you. You raise a brow in interest. “As soon as I get off’a this fuckin’ thing, I’m gonna-”

 “What are you gonna do?” You sit up on your knees, separating them slightly, and as you smooth your hands up his thighs, he scowls. You squeeze provocatively, and his hips twitch. “Please don’t say you’re going to kill me. That’d be so unimaginative.”

 Hair twisted around your fingers, you pull it over to one side of your face, tilting your head until your lips are hovering over him. Eyes following your every move, his glare dissipates into a look of muted anticipation as you part your lips and wrap your fingers back around his shaft.

 “Go on.” You push, looking up at him through your lashes, and the sensation of your breath cooling over his sensitive cock is enough to make him squirm and swallow in want.

 “What?” he rasps.

 Entranced, again. Men.

 You swirl your tongue around the lower half of your mouth, allowing yourself to salivate, before you speak again.

 “Tell me all of the depraved,” you push spit over your lip, allowing it to roll down his length, mixing with another droplet of precum as you continue, “disgusting shit that you’d do to me if you got loose.”

 Jesus, you’re hot. It’s no wonder he’s practically leaking.

 “I’d-” He clears his throat in disgruntled disapproval of how hoarse he sounds, “I’d h-hold you down, and-”

 “Where?”

 “On the f-fuck-the floor. On the floor,” he spurts as you pull the head of his cock into your mouth. “Shit…I’d wrap my hand ‘round your throat, arms pinned above your head,” you set a steady pace, bobbing your head as he continues, and God, you’re soaking.

 “And I’ll squeeze, really fucking hard, ‘til you’re crying, beg-begging me to s-stop.” You hum, interest piqued, the soft vibration making Sam hiss. You hollow your cheeks, moving your hand so your mouth can engulf him as far as is comfortable to coax him on just a little more, savouring the salty sweetness that you draw from his slit. “Just before you p-pass out, I start fucking your tight little pussy, and stop choking you only to fuck your throat…just to shut you up for five fffucking seconds.”

 Jesus, he’s hot, too. No, what? He’s fucking rude!

 Watch it, Samuel.

 “Gonna…come all over your face, like the whore you are…fuck, I’m close.” He trails off into a near-whisper. You frown, but continue to swirl your tongue, evoking a deep groan from Sam. He can be a prick if he wants. Call you a whore, by all means. But there’ll be consequences.

 He bucks up; you feel him hit the back of your throat and you gag, eyes beginning to water, and whilst it seems almost counterintuitive, you let him do it again.

 It’ll make your next move all the more satisfying.

 Every curse that leaves his lips sends your core seizing in anticipation- You’re making him feel so so good, and he’s finally on the brink of admitting it, but your clit is fucking throbbing, and quite frankly you’re growing bored of him getting all the attention.

 You watch his torso tense as he holds his breath, and just as he twitches inside your mouth, you rapidly pull away.

 He growls through his teeth, specks of frustrated spit jumping at you as he angrily thrashes around. “No, you fuck- No!”

 What? Did he really think this was going to be some sort of ‘wam-bam, thank you, ma’am’ turn of events? Moron.

 Stepping back, you’re fascinated; engrossed by the way he proceeds to yell every vile insult in the book in your direction. It’s like you’re watching it in slow motion.

 A smirk tugs on the corner of your lips, and it intimidates him- it’s evident in the way he begins to lose his words and fails to maintain his steadfast eye contact.

 He lays his head back, sighing in defeat, chest heaving. “How much longer are you gonna keep this up for?” he breathes, not waiting for an answer because he knows you could keep this up for days if you had to. “It…” another huff- there’s something he doesn’t want to admit. “It hurts.”

 “Aw, does it?” You sniff, wiping your slightly swollen lips with your thumb.

 You leave him on a cliff edge for a moment, sauntering your way behind him, his gaze following you until you’re too far around for him to turn his head. What now?

 Dipping down to the shell of his ear, you whisper.

 “You know what else hurts?”

 His eyes are unnerved as he turns to looks up at you, awaiting your answer. You bite your lower lip, slightly weakening your smile as you brace your hands on the top of the chair’s back.

 “Your tied wrists being crushed by the weight of your own body.”

 He turns to look at you, and confusion sets in as your smile fades into a focussed display of effort. Your grip on the chair tightens, and as your knuckles turn pale, Sam’s eyes widen in realisation.

 “No, no, no, wait!” His plea falls upon deaf ears as you pull with all your strength, sending Sam falling backwards with a thud. His face contorts in pain, but he says nothing for a moment, merely breathing through clenched teeth as he tries to shift into a less agonising position. He’s unsuccessful. Get humbled, bitch.

 “Sucks, doesn’t it?”

 “Yep,” He whispers, hoarsely. Amusing. “Yeah, it- ow, okay. You’ve made your point.” You kneel, before laying down beside him. “Can you just-” He’s all high pitched and croaky.

 “What? Make you a little more comfortable? No.” You scoff, turning to look at him. His eyes plead with you, and you smile again.

 God, his wrists kill. The fucking wood from the chair’s spindles has begun to splinter and break, and it’s digging into his skin, not to mention the ache in his neck and shoulders from his body whacking against the floor.

 Hold on. The wood’s…splintering. Right near his wrists.

 “Hey,” You start, attracting his attention as you straddle him, leaning back on his thighs, ensuring your ass is grazing ever so slightly against his dick. He retains eye contact with you, waiting for you to continue with whatever you were about to say, and as you position yourself comfortably, his hips subtly move under you to stimulate himself in any way he can.

 “Do you think about me?”

 His face contorts in bewilderment; not at what you said- oh, he understands the question perfectly- but bewilderment at your ability to ask an insanely emotional question in such a bizarre situation.

 You can no longer ignore the heat in between your legs as you slip your underwear aside, cursing under your breath as you begin to stroke yourself. Sam cranes his neck, wanting to see everything you do, trying desperately to buck his hips into your ass cheek in an attempt to get himself off, despite the pain in his arms. You, of course, want to see him struggle, so you hover just shy of his reach.

 “No.” You chastise, and he actually whines, throwing his head backwards onto the floor in frustration. “Answer me.”

 “For god sakes, you’re killing me.” He pants. You raise an eyebrow in warning, continuing to smooth your wetness around you, cheeks significantly warmer than they were a few minutes ago. “Fuck- fine!” He attempts to readjust himself, whimpering at the pain radiating from his arms and how sensitive he’s become. “Sure. Sure, yeah, I’ve thought’a you.” He pants. In all fairness, he is telling the truth.

 You hum in acknowledgement as you bring your free hand behind you to fist at his cock again. A cluster of knots twist and turn inside of your abdomen at the sight of his stomach flexing inconsistently, alongside the sound of his desperate, hitched groans just escaping the back of his throat.

 He’s a fucking mess, and as you guide him towards your sobbing pussy, you don’t think you’ve ever found him more attractive.

 Fingers delicately tracing circles over your clit, you arch yourself downwards, crawling forwards so you’re hovering over his torso. Your necklace and hair tickle his chest, and as your lips linger just above his, you can hear his unstable grunting that he’s trying so hard to keep under wraps.

 “When have you thought about me, Sam?” You ask, voice lowered, with a huskiness to it that makes him close his eyes and swear under his breath as you hold him mere millimetres away from you.

 You don’t really care about whether he answers you or not. You’ve still got some interrogating to do, sure, but you’re not scared of him anymore so you’re just enjoying seeing him under pressure.

 “I…I don’t-”

 “Was it when you were balls deep in some other girl while I was doing recon on the treasure you stole from me?”

 Fuck, he adores how disgusting you’re being. How disgusting he’s made you. It’s thrilling, if a bit frightening.

 “Or- fuck- was…was it when you had your handsome little face nuzzled right into her cunt?”

 Jesus fucking Christ. His tip nudges its way into you, and he could come right now. But no, he’s got to pull himself together because he has to feel you. He shakes his head fanatically, eyes squeezed shut briefly before he continues to watch you, dying for friction.

 You’re so close, but you pull yourself away from your swollen clit, studying your glistening fingers briefly before shifting your focus back to Sam’s fervent stare. His eyes follow as you slide your fingers past your lips, smoothing them over your tongue. You beam down at him as he watches you taste yourself, full of an eagerness that he doesn’t seem to care about hiding any more. You release your fingers from your mouth with a pop, making sure your lips shine with your own arousal.

 “Bet I taste better, though.”

 Finally- fucking finally, you sink inch by inch down onto him, and as you draw a groan from him, you force your tongue into his mouth, making him taste you.

 To your surprise, Sam kisses you back with as much desperation as a man tied to a toppled over chair can, savouring the flavour he’s missed so much, and for a moment, it’s almost as if there’s no animosity between the pair of you.

 You feel so tight and warm around him, and he fills you out perfectly; but as you give yourself a moment to adjust, he feels something give around his wrists. His eyes open in realisation, and as his tie loosens from his hands, he debates lashing out, hurting you, getting his own back after all this insane shit you’ve put him through; nonetheless, as you finally begin to roll your hips, something in his psyche shifts. It instantly dawns on him that he…he wants this. All of it.

 So, he keeps his arms underneath him, despite the pain, because the deep breaths and strangled moans coming from you as you pull your lips away from him and rest your forehead against his are doing more for him than ibuprofen ever could. He’s missed being inside of you. Hell, at this exact moment, he’d go as far as saying that he’s missed you entirely.

 And he’s fucking livid because, whoop-de-do, there’s the regret.

 The two of you fall into a sort of rhythm, making your strange position work surprisingly well; the room fills with the sound of your intermittent whimpers and breaths and his pants of your name, and as you nip harshly at the lowest bird on his neck, he swears with an almost painful desire to touch you; If he could just grip your ass, your thighs, pull on your hair and clamp you down on top of him whilst he jackhammers into you, all to see your eyes roll to the back of your head, he could die a satisfied man.

 He could bring his arms round now, right? You’re so sweaty and entranced by riding him that you’d let him loose without some sort of stupid outburst, surely. It’s a risky move, but fuck, it’d be so worth it if you let him.

 A choked gasp escapes him as you slide him out of you completely before sinking all the way back down…and as you let out a languid moan, there goes his train of thought.

 “Oh, ssshit.” He hisses, eyes rolling back as you repeat the action over and over ‘til it’s almost painful. “Jesus, keep…keep doing that. Pl-please.”

 You still once you’ve got him filling you to the hilt, sitting up fully, hands braced on his thighs. Your chest heaves, but you can’t help but look down at him with a crazed smile.

 “Was…was that a please?”

 “I-” Sam takes a deep breath through his nose, face contorting into unsatiated ire as gravity works against him. “Come on, for chrissakes.” He whispers, desperate sibilance drawing spit from his lips.

 “God, look at the state of you. Pathetic.” Fingers finding your clit again, you can’t believe you’ve managed to condition him in such a way, and you revel in the way he glares at you with helpless irritation.

 “You’re pathetic, aren’t you?” God, he’s so conflicted and you can see it. You work your clit like your life depends on it, and your thighs begin to tremble. “Hah. Still think I’m a bitch, huh? Well, who’s the bitch now?” You bite your lip, laughing hysterically as your eyes flutter closed.

 Sam can only gawk at you in morbidly curious awe. Who are you? Had you been quashing this side of you the whole time you were together?

 No. No. He wants to finish. Needs to. He can’t get the friction he needs at this angle whilst your being so fucking selfish, but he doesn’t have to screw around waiting any more.

 He gave you what you wanted and you’re still denying him of the one good thing he’s allowed to take from this. That awe begins to dissolve into a rage as he thinks fuck this. You’ve had your fun. You can’t shoot him if he’s holding you down.

 “Too far, princess.” He mutters, with a sort of depraved smirk emerging on his lips that you’re too immersed in your own pleasure to see. You frown for a second, but he feels so good inside you, you keep rocking your hips back and forth, superbly stimulating your aching pussy from all angles.

 It’s not until you feel a harsh, stinging tug at the side of your scalp that you tense in fear and stop moving.

 Sam yanks your head to the side so harshly that it’s a surprise he doesn’t tear out a chunk of your hair. With a high-pitched cry, you’re sent rolling off him onto your back, and after taking a second to become fully aware of the fact that the fucker has gotten loose, you scramble onto your front, preparing to bolt for the gun laying on the bed. No, no, no, this wasn’t supposed to happen! What are you supposed to do now?! You can’t really use the fucking gun, can you?

 Sam massages his wrists and cracks his neck as he finally stands, before wrestling his shirt, shoes and trousers off in quick, irate succession. His chest heaves, and he snaps the elastic of his boxers back onto his hip, though you can see he’s still rock hard through the material. He’s also quietly enraged. That’s dangerous.

 “Pathetic, huh?” He sniffs, words full of spite as he stalks behind you.

 Adrenaline floods its way into your stomach as you reach the bed, but just as you reach for the gun to keep him at bay, a swift grab of the chain of your necklace has you flying backwards into Sam’s chest with a choked gasp.

 “You know what else is pathetic?” He holds you, one hand gripping you by the throat, the other arm snaking tightly around your waist. You can't kick your legs because they're clamped between the side of the bed and his own. Sam lowers his mouth to your ear as your eyes begin to water, not so much with fear, but with the frustration of your plan going to shit.

 “No back up plan.” He laughs. “Guess we’re both idiots, huh?”

 “Get…off.” You huff, exasperated as he pushes you face down onto the edge of the bed, pressing himself over you.

 “Sorry, sweetheart, you’ve got me all riled up, so, no can do.”

 You whine in response as you feel his bulge pressing into your ass cheek. You wriggle and writhe as much as you can, though after a moment, you don’t fail to notice that it’s the sides of your throat that he’s squeezing- not your windpipe. He’s not trying to harm you… Instead, history is about to repeat itself.

 At least this time it’s on a bed, not a freezing cold, stone counter.

 “Wanna know what’s really screwed up?” He says, hand tangled in your hair to keep you pressed down as your brain begins to feel fizzy. You whimper sporadically, trying hard to at least get your arms free from under your stomach before you lose all cognitive ability. “This is just gonna keep happening…isn’t it, you an’ me.” You feel the crotch of your underwear get pulled aside as his freed cock nudges at your cunt again, though this time, it’s harsh and selfish and it’s clear that Sam’s not really in a mercy-giving mood as he brutally shoves himself all the way into you, giving you no time to respond.

 “Jesus Christ!” You yelp, feeling as though your cervix has just been punched. “Shit, Sam-ah!” He pulls himself out of you, and does it again, and again, and you swear you hear him laugh over the increasing volume of your heartbeat, because he knows it hurts you, but lord help you, it feels fucking wonderful at the same time.

 “We’re both obsessed with each other, aren’t we?” He growls, and you want to retaliate, but he’s fucking all the air out of you that hasn’t already been taken by his hand around your throat, and you’re beginning to lose all sense of everything around you.

 “Fucking hate you.” He quickens the pace; rough, deep, his grunts sending you closer to the edge as you close your eyes, tears squeezing their way out. You can’t believe how easily you’re giving in to him- how quickly everything’s gone to shit, but you literally can’t form any thoughts as he hits you in all the right places. “Hate you.” He repeats, and you couldn’t agree more, “but-shit-can’t get enough ‘a you.” A series of long-held groans and pants escape you as he briefly pulls out of you, letting go of your throat to flip you onto your back. You’re too dazed to fight back in any way, and if you’re being honest with yourself, you don’t fucking care anymore. That was what you wanted to hear. Sam wants you.

 He climbs up, hovering over you as he scoops you up and drags you further onto the bed, your arms splayed out beside you, head flopped to the side as you let blood flow back towards your brain. Your eyes fall on the pistol that rests just out of reach. Even if you could grab it, you can’t fucking use it, can you?

 “Hey,” he slaps your cheek, gripping your face to force your eyes in his direction. He holds you there, cheeks squished as his dick remains unmoving inside you. He’s flushed, vicious, and gorgeous- you stare up at him, anticipating, wanting. Just like him. “Look at that damn gun again, and I’ll shoot you myself.”

 “Good luck with that.” You mumble, cock-drunk smile on your face as you stare lazily up at him, content. He glowers at you, waiting for further explanation as he starts drilling into you yet again, letting go of your face to hike your thigh up further. “It’s not loaded.” You wheeze. “You can’t get enough of me.” You tease, fall into a series of intoxicated giggles as he…slows? No!

 Not ideal. Why did you fucking tell him about the gun?

 His eyes scrutinise your face. There’s no deceitful glint from you. No obvious sign of a lie. Just an anxious look that says ‘get on with it, you annoying bastard.’

 He realises that you never intended to shoot him- of course you didn’t. You couldn’t do it before. Besides…you want him, Sam wants you- it’s painfully obvious on both sides, but you’re two toxic idiots who constantly want to one-up each other; a relationship is impossible.

 He does, however, smirk to himself at the prospect of a toxic ex-partners with benefits situation, enjoying the sight of you trying to get him to move above you. You’re sick of his smug stare, so you attempt to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down to you. He complies, fucking you again, with a few nips to your neck.

 “So, you really did all this just to have your pretty little pussy filled up, huh?” He tries to confirm his theory in a way that matches the depravity of this entire situation, before he accuses you of being a ‘whore’ once again; you discreetly nod, but this time it doesn’t piss you off. In fact, it does quite the opposite as you feel the coil in your abdomen tighten drastically. You moan through your bitten lower lip, tits bouncing, sweat beading on your forehead as he cages you in.

 “W-wanted to hah-have the power for once,” You stutter between gargled moans as you feel his movement begin to become slightly unsteady. “To watch you sss-squirm, oh god.” You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist, drawing him even deeper into you as he chuckles into your neck.

 “Power?” He laughs, “Jesus, girl, you’ve got all the fucking power. Want you…all the damn time.” He lethargically admits, head lifted, eyes closed as he focuses on his fast-approaching climax. “I’m-gonna come inside you. That what you want?” Is he genuinely asking? You can’t tell. But yes. Of course, that’s what you want, so you nod desperately, a whimpered plea escaping you.

 The sound of wet skin on skin and the desperation in your voice is all it takes for Sam to lose his mind once more, head falling back down into the crook of your neck as you drag him close to his peak for what feels like the thousandth time. He groans, the thought of such a long-awaited release pushing him over the edge, and all too soon he can feel himself twitching and spilling inside of you.

 The sudden warmth of his cum filling you, and the deep, almost animalistic groan that tumbles out of his mouth and vibrates into your skin pushes you over the edge as well, your arms unconsciously tightening around him, nails clawing into his back as your body quakes with long-anticipated pleasure.

 “Fuck, I’m-” you interrupt yourself with a rasped, muted scream as you come. He squeezes onto you as he empties himself fully, actions becoming languid and sloppy as he lets out one final string of curses. He feels you contract and spasm around him; every shudder and convulsion of your body and every messy, lurid cry that stutters out of your mouth as you orgasm causes him to smile between zealous breaths. God, he’s missed you.

 After a moment, Sam opens his eyes, seeing your head strewn backwards, throat bobbing as you gulp in warm air, your bare chest heaving from exertion. You stay, just for a second, basking in the afterglow as your respective heart rates force themselves back to a steadier state; Savouring a comforting warmth that you both fear will very shortly dissipate back into unsullied hostility.

 He slowly pulls himself up, sliding out of you with a wince. You feel this, and almost instantly snap out of your post-orgasm haze, breathlessly clambering away in fear of what he might do to you. You hadn’t planned for this. As you huddle yourself against a post on the bed, trying to think of what to do, you think he might actually kill you.

 Instead, he flops onto his back, and you stare at each other; on edge, ravished, rapt, and also a little pained from such a drawn-out release.

 Sam clearly senses your fear, somewhat disappointed by your sudden departure from his proximity. “I’m…not gonna do anything. I’m fucking spent, all right?” Your eyes shift warily around him as he takes on an uncharacteristic, and totally unanticipated-in-this-situation soft tone. “Look. I don’t know about you, but I think I’d prefer it if we just kept screwing instead of threatening to hurt each other twenty-four-seven.”

 Your brows furrow in anxious confusion. You agree. But you don’t want to say it. He’s a renowned trickster.

He tilts his head up to look at you before rubbing his hand over his face with an exasperated sigh. How can he prove his honesty to you?

 “You’ve got this room all night?” He finally asks, voice husky.

 “Yeah.” You respond, feeling a little safer at the fact that he’s still splayed out on the bed, visibly exhausted. This is all so, so strange.

 “Good.” He starts with a grin. “‘Cause I’m gonna tie you to that chair and eat you out til I make you squirt again.”

 Oh. Oh.

[frodothefair]

Thinking about Frodo and Mari's family life and I'm just like awww... Most of this will probably not end up in FoM except in a cursory way toward the end... But then again... maybe a sequel or a series of spinoff oneshots?

Their childrens' different looks and personalities. Galadriel is the social director and loves playing active games and exploring, organizing the neighborhood kids to go foraging in the woods and reenacting battles. Samwise Jr., on the other hand, prefers helped his parents with hands-on household tasks, and learning about herbs and cooking, and likes it quiet, and has 1-2 close friends. (Gala eventually realizes she's trans, or however one would understand trans in that society without having the vocabulary or social context for it; Sam Jr becomes a doctor)

Gala looks like Frodo; Samwise Jr. looks like Marigold and behaves like Frodo, down to the way he hooks his fingers into his suspenders. Neighbors gossiping about Samwise Jr's parentage, and Samwise Sr threatening to stove their heads in.

Both kids love reading with their Da. To the point of "we are not reading tonight" is actually a punishment.

Mari yelling loudly enough to be heard at Bagshot Row when she realizes she's pregnant a second time, when her first child is barely a year old. She does not enjoy being pregnant, even if Frodo is a very supportive partner. After this point, she never recommends breastfeeding alone as a birth control method to anyone.

Gamgees are way too fertile, which is one way to explain the above circumstance. The other is Frodo being a breast guy, and Mari breastfeeding and, you, know, one thing leading to another. ;)

Frodo hardly putting little Gala down for a moment the first few weeks of her life because OMG HE HAS A BABY. He didn't think he would live to 60 and NOW HE HAS A BABY.

Frodo being preternaturally good at soothing babies. This is first discovered when Samwise and Rosie's Elanor is born. Rosie insists that this means Frodo should have a child as soon as possible, and Sam tries to shush her and play it off as her being "addled on poppy" because she just gave birth (this one probably will be in FoM).

Frodo being even better at parenting than Marigold. Marigold having mixed feelings about this.

@konartiste