#(family rather than just Sam's friend)

[red-n-stuff]

The more darlin backstory we receive the more and more I want to sit down and write a whole timeline of events for my version of them just because I need to be able to correctly reflect their experiences in the blurbs I write….

Also: (unpopular opinion, so if you disagree that’s cool, don’t worry I’m not comin for you, this is just my darlin in my head)

I tend to see a lot of content that has David being sort of an older sibling to Darlin, or that their role in the pack is often more inflated then what’s canon (which again, cool for y’all if that’s how y’all wanna play it) but there’s so much room for angst and growth and raw emotions by exploring the avenue that Darlin isn’t really that same teenager that they all managed to make friends with- and that now after everything that happened they’re much more jaded.

They’re trying again, and they want to be a part of the pack again, and right now David, Asher, and Milo are all trying to find their footing with where they stand with Darlin. Too much has happened for all of them for them to just resume that easy teenage experience- but I think that the four of them rebuilding a bond that extends beyond just being in a pack, that stems beyond blood (real or metaphorical), is a stronger bond than the idea of them being there out of obligation.

Darlin is choosing the pack. Not because they have a duty to their past self- not out of guilt for some connection to Gabe, not because they feel like they owe it to anybody, but because these people are people that have proven they’re reliable, safe, and willing to allow darlin the space to breathe that they need. Consistently, David has made it a point to not try to take up the role of an overbearing older brother because Darlin does not need more family. Darlin needs friends. And at the end of the day, they need a circle of support they know they could never let down rather than more people they have to try to meet expectations for.

[quietwingsinthesky]

domestic destiel with baby jack except that dean wants to kill himself the entire time because he feels like he’s trapped and can’t keep going through these motions that he doesn’t feel

[bearyyayay]

Is it just me or I just can't find like a bad traits for Tommy, sure he's a mobster but what if he ain't?

Then he'll technically be like a walking green flag right?

[redgoldblue]

s6 truly just

Michelle: this is my husband Sam

Michelle: and this is his boyfriend Callen

[charlietheepicwriter7]

Despite Danny's best efforts, no matter how much time past, Amity Park refused to see Phantom as a hero.

Sure, there were pockets of support, particularly among teens, but most of the town blames Phantom for the property damage, saying if he didn't fight the ghosts then it wouldn't be so bad, to that time he got mind controlled by Freakshow and "attacked" the mayor. It wears him down. It wears Tucker and Sam down. Jazz can only try to support them all.

Then one day, a member of the Justice League visits. Someone minor, and kinda a jerk... maybe a Wonder Twin? Zan? Whatever. They don't investigate; they don't look deeper. They listen to the town folks and declare the ghost hunters, Red Huntress and the Fentons, to be the official heroes of the town.

Worse? Danny Phantom is officially considered a villain to the Justice League. Tuck hacks into the Watchtower and confirms that they have a file (a heavily inaccurate file) about how to defeat Phantom.

Danny doesn't think he can do this anymore.

A few weeks later, a young villain escapes into Amity and demands (begs) that Danny help them escape from the hero after them. No idea who, I can't find a lot of info on teen villains in DC, so let's fudge some ages and make it Kyd Wyckyd from the Teen Titans cartoon. Danny agrees, because to hell with the Justice Losers, and they defeat the hero, becoming friends in the process. Kyd confesses that they became a villain after being ostracized bc of how they look, and they've been trying to avoid villain organizations because HIVE was abusive, but it's really hard to be a villain alone bc of all the heroes.

Sam gets an idea. Tucker agrees with the idea. Jazz is just happy they'll end up making friends.

The next day, the Teen Villain Alliance is formed, ready to assist with any teenage illegal shenanigans their allies might get into.

Some notes:

It's created to be a healthier option for teen "villains" to connect with others and support each other.

It's more important that this is for Teens rather than Villains. They're tired of adult villains taking advantage of them. The TVA would rather ally with a teen vigilante than with an adult villain.

Again, no idea who the teen villains are, but Klarion is definitely here. He leaves the Light for the chaos of the TVA. Maybe Ember is there too?

Timeline wise, this is around when Tim is still Robin, but Damien has arrived at Wayne Manor.

This is because, when it comes time to try to infiltrate the TVA, they'll have a convenient child-assassin who has none of the monitors of a teen hero that Phantom immediately picks up on.

Damien, who at this point has been abandoned by his mother, dismissed and scolded by his father, and has had no success at carving his own place in the family, jumps at the chance. He is then surrounded by peers who don't insult him or try to change his behavior (too much; jazz is trying to help him find healthier methods of expressing himself). He... might not want to continue being a spy.

Danny, Sam, Tuck, and Jazz are the founding members.

Danny reinvents himself as the High Prince of the Infinite, Prince Phantom Dark. He got kingship from fighting Pariah Dark, but since he's still alive, he's only a prince. He steals the last name Dark as an intimidation tatic against those in the know; only Danny would have the balls to claim family with Pariah.

Sam works as a powerless villain, but she might no be powerless? Either way, Danny gives her a bunch of repurposed Fenton tech, and she buys the rest with her parents credit card. She does NOT care if that's traced back to the Mansons. She would choose something goth, maybe something spider related or even bat?

I love Pharaoh Tucker, so I think he should get magic powers? Since pharaohs of old were considered the balance between the real and the divine. He's still a tech guy, now he's a tech and magic guy.

Jazz isn't really a villain, more of a team mom who's planning on using everyone's psyche's as her thesis paper. You know what, that's her callsign, she's Psyche. Sometimes she flirts with Nightwing.

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP Fic Idea: Online Siren

Danny makes a mistake. Or maybe he struck gold. Depending on the perspective you were looking through.

It starts one night when Sam, Tucker, Danny, and Jazz get together for a private party on Tucker's birthday. Mr. and Mrs. Foley had let them have the whole house to themselves on the agreement that it would only be the four of them. They would be keeping an eye on the security camera and motion detectors around the property. At the slightest hints of Tucker having a house party, the pair would return from Mr. Foley's sister's house to shut it down.

The group of teenagers were more than happy not to invite anyone. It's not like anyone would show- at least not with good intentions. They had an entire night plan- coffee drinks based on their types, video games, boardgames ones, painting hour, karaoke, movies, and cake after presents.

They all pitched in for pizza, and Sam offered to buy everyone breakfast in the morning. The party started at four and would end at ten the following morning. The boys would sleep in Tucker's room while Sam and Jazz crashed in the guest room together.

Danny hadn't had that much fun in such a long time that he didn't even shy away from Sam's video camera while singing. The youngest Fenton has always had a fantastic singing voice, but his stage fright has stopped him from showing off his skill in front of anyone who was not close friends or family.

The following morning, while eating at Tucker's favorite breakfast restaurant, Sam checked her phone after noticing all the buzzing. Danny could catch her face turning pastly white at whatever was on her screen. She taps aggressively, nearly frantically, which gains the attention of Tucker and Jazz.

"Sam? Everything good?" Jazz asks gentely.

"I..no..I'm sorry, Danny," She whispers after staring hopelessly at her screen. "I meant to save it in our private share, not...the anonymous one."

"What?"

"I...post poetry anonymously on this voice website. It's audio recordings only." She explains, placing the phone on the table. Her voice is hesitant. "Last night....I accidentally posted the video of you singing from the Karaoke machine I saved. The one from the Realms. And some of my followers saved it and shared it. It's trending."

Danny feels his stomach drop into his legs. "What?"

"No one knows who you are!" Sam blurts as Tucker quickly pulls out his own phone. A few seconds later, Danny's voice blares out of his speaker, the melody blending well with his singing. The Karaoke has a recording option that deletes background noise, making it far more professional than four teenagers dancing around the Foley's coffee table.

"Dude, this sounds amazing," Tucker says after a moment. "I can't believe I finally have a recording of your singing. Just look at these comments!"

The song is an open domain in the Infinite Realms, telling the tell of the first King's fall. It's rather popular for its revolutionary themes and near musical lyrics that blended with the rapid flute melody, so finding a ghost willing to share a Karaoke version took nearly no effort. People online think Danny was the songwriter.

The song on Sam's page had ninty-thousand listens, with just as many downloads- each download places ten cents in her account. So far, Danny's singing has made nine thousand dollars. It's only been twelve hours!

It got so much traction because Damian Wayne had made an edit with a popular anime and posted it on his personal account. His small usage had exploded Danny's song in only a few hours.

"Take it down!" Danny hisses, slapping a hand over Tucker's screen and glancing at nearby tables. "Sam, please take your post down."

"I did! I swear! But it's too late to stop it from spreading on the WorldClip." She tells him, and Danny's heart feels like it will explode until Jazz gently speaks up.

"Sam, can Danny have those nine grand?"

His best friend blinks momently, thrown by the question before she nods, "Of course! It's his money."

"Hmm." Jazz taps her fingers under her chin before turning Danny's face towards her. It's not until her gentle pats on his back that he realizes he is hyperventilating. "You should post more on that anonymous website. Sam can write the songs, Tucker can make the music, and you can sing."

"What!?" He choked, shocked she would even ask him. Tucker and Sam are eyeing them with wide eyes, frozen in their seats. No one knew where the fear had come from, but the two knew how badly Danny reacted to the idea of performing.

Tucker first met Danny when the boy panicked in the music room. After it was announced, the students would be singing Twinkle Little Star in the first grade. It was the first time Tucker had ever called nine-one-one, too.

He was praised as a hero, while Danny was scolded for overreacting. Tucker had held his hand until the sobbing boy's parents came to pick him up and has never left his side since.

"Danny, this fear has always left you in shambles. I think it would help you. This could be a form of exposal therapy," She says, then shrugs her shoulder. "Think about it. No one will know who you are, but your music could reach thousands without you ever having to show your face. You could pay for the college you wanted to go to in Gotham this way. All of you."

Neither Danny's nor Tucker's parents could afford to send them to Gotham University despite it being their dream school. Sam's parents refused to pay for a "useless" degree such as Botany. They had been growing uneasy with the realization dreams were not always promised as the end of the senior year approached in only a few short months.

They would never ask it of him, but Danny could see the genuine hope tucked in their eyes as they waited for his response. He licked his lips, feeling his heart still beating a mile a minute under his rib cage.

He didn't like being this paralyzed by an irrational fear. He also really wanted to help them reach their dreams.

So Danny opens his mouth and whispers, "Only until we can get to Gotham to find jobs"

Jazz's smile is bright.

________________________________________________________

A few months later, Damian practically runs Tim over in his rush to connect to the game room's surround system. Jon is hot on his heels and has the decency to shout an apology as the pre-teens rush by.

"Hey! Watch it!" He still screams at their backs, irritated. "I could've dropped my croissant!"

"Sorry again Tim!"

"You're fat anyway, Drake!"

Tim rolls his eyes, adjusting his hold on his plate as Dick rounds the corner that the children had appeared from. "What's got them rushing?"

"Online Siren just dropped a new song." Dick laughs. "Dami is a bit of a fan."

"Online Siren?"

"That's right, you were in space for five months. Online Siren is this anonymous singer that everyone is going crazy over on the internet. He's an amazing singer, but because no one knows anything about him. Not even Babs."

Tim raises a brow. "He could be using autotune."

"Maybe, but Tim, I'm telling you. Listen to his music, and you'll find you can't stop. Siren is a fitting name."

"He can't be that good," Tim mutters, following his eldest brother into the game room, where Damian and Jon have blared the speakers to the loudest setting and dancing around.

Tim draws up short at the sight of Damian Wayne actually crying as he sings along to the lyrics, acting as if the singer was right there in front of him and he was a long-time fan.

Then, the music invades his ears, and Tim feels like he is ascending on a different plane. The smooth, near silk-like voice glinds into his chest, rattling his bones, and his knees shake when the man holds a soft, seductive "Oh" for a few seconds longer then necessary.

It sends shivers down his spine.

"What is this!? It's so good!" He screams at the dancing Dick, who laughs.

"I know, right!?"

"It's too good. I think this is a real siren." Tim continues, pressing his hands over his ears. His mind flashes back to the few months he spent with his team, running for a mind-controlling alien that had nearly trapped them in the third space sector. "Dick, we're in danger! Get around from the speakers! Mind control!"

Dick stops dancing with a sigh, muttering under his breath as Tim rushes to the control panel of the speaker system. As soon as he slams it off, Damian releases a screech of an angered cat and launches at him, demanding his music back. Jon flouts nervously on the side as the two youngest Waynes brothers roll on the ground, yelling insults and taking dirty shots.

"I wish I could enjoy things with my siblings without them ruining it." He mumbles, striding forward to break up the fight, only to scream when Tim pulls out pepper spray, yowling like a madman.

"Mind control! Mind control!"

"My EYES! "

"Drake, stop!"

"You'll never get me Siren! Never!"

".I'm going to go get Mr.Wayne!"

"Make haste, Jon! Bring my father to stop this baffoon-my eyes! Drake, you bastard!"

[i-demand-a-good-username]

Uh, anyway, Shane is actually besties with Sam (he'd rather die than admit it though) and they constantly do things to spite Joja and Sam can actually get a good reaction from Shane with some of his jokes. Sam and him were kind of awkward at first, but after a while Sam saw him at the saloon one day and went "HEY!! MY BUDDY SHANE!! COME PLAY POOL WITH US!!" so loudly across the building that everyone turned to stare and Shane almost sped-walked out of the place out of embarrassment (he def stayed and played pool but kept his head down to avoid stares).

Sam constantly talks about funny things Shane does and Abigail and Sebastian are like, "??? The quiet, grumpy town drunk??" But after Sam dragged Shane into so many pool games, Shane loosened up and started a tournament with the old arcade games between the four of them (he kicks everyone's asses at it) and now Seb and Abbi are starting to get it.

There's a competition between him and Sam on who can steal the largest item at Joja without getting caught (Shane has the lead with the pizza he gave farmer)

After Shane stops drinking, Sam is adamant on getting Shane to like joja-cola with him (he's not winning, unfortunately)

One time, Sam bet Shane that he could drink a 12-pack of Joja-cola during one break at work and threw up everywhere from the crazy amount of carbination it has (Even though Shane cried actual tears from laughter, Sam still owed him a pizza because Morris made Shane clean it 😭)

Shane will leave Sam maple bars in his work locker when Sam is having a hard time with his family and denies that it was him (Sam knows) His excuse when caught is that he and Jaz prefer the other donuts in the pack

Shane SUCKS at comforting others, but Sam appreciates the awkward conversation because it just means his buddy is trying to be a good friend.

They both run a secret page that basically makes fun of Morris by posting bad photos or just making a meme out of him

Uh, yeah, anyway. Sam and Shane are besties

[nightingale-prompts]

Finding Batboy

First| Previous | Next

Phantom

King

Fenton

Apprentice

Batboy

He just wanted to be Danny. Just Danny, nothing else.

But who was Danny anymore?

Danny was a 14-year-old boy who died in a tragic accident. Danny had a decent life with friends and a sister who he loved. Danny wanted to be an astronaut and loved the stars. Danny had an astrology phase that made him so annoying to everyone but Sam. Danny liked dogs and cats hated him for no reason no matter how much he loved them. Danny wanted to join the robotics club with Tucker. Danny still snuck into his sister's room when he was scared to sleep in her bed.

But Danny is dead. Danny has been dead for years now.

He missed being Danny.

Now he was Phantom.

No past.

No home.

No family.

But if that was true, what did that make Dick?

Just another person that he would have to leave behind. It wouldn't be long. History doesn't repeat but it rhymes. It can't last. It won't.

Danny flew to some abandoned factory located somewhere in Gotham. He hadn't really paid much attention. He just needed a desolate place to land. Somewhere even the ghosts have long abandoned.

Truthfully Danny didn't want to be alone. A part of him felt the urge to find that revenant that he had met. Something that felt familiar to him, someone that could understand.

But right now Danny wanted to rest and he wasn't picky about where. He wrapped his wings in a tight cocoon and plopped on the ground. His sleep was deep, more than he ever remembered having before, except once.

Danny walked through the halls of a spiraling tower that overlooked the Ghost Zone. The tower was decorated with stars and moons. Mist hovered just above the floor creating a icy blue carpet. Ghost sheep napped in corners. The scent of poppy and pine filled the air.

As Danny ascended to the top he met with a familiar face. Nocturne the ghost of dreams. The ghost's thick bridged nose reminded Danny of that of a sheep that matched his curled ramhorns. His red eyes with horizontal pupils reminded him of a demonic ram he had seen in a horror movie once. Danny could practically hear that line again: "Would thou like to live deliciously?"

It still gave Danny chills.

"Please refrain from making such comparisons." Nocturne said, his voice deep but soft at the same time.

Danny had gotten to know Nocturne some time ago. Apparently, he and Clockwork were close. They shared a high rank among ghosts as they were abstract manifestations rather then being that were once living like some. The hierarchy of ghosts was complex, and Nocturne was not someone to look down on.

"Nox, why am I here?" Danny said standing before the seven-foot frame of the amorphous ghost.

"You are spending too much time in the material realm. If you don't get time back in the realm to which you belong you'll go mad. It's already starting to happen. I stole your mind away for a bit to give you a mental break but your body is already starting to break down." Nocturne said waving a finger at him.

"My body and brain are fine Nox." Danny said crossing his arms.

Nocturne picked the boy up with one hand and held him at eye level.

"You are having trouble shifting are you not? Its not coming as easily as it should. The more attached you get to a form without the energy from our world to break it up the worse it will be. The Ghost of Time has already told me of the problem. You must stay here for the time being and recover. It is what's best. Mental weakness is the worst one can suffer and the remedy is sleep." Nocturne's breath smelled like warm milk and cinnamon. It calmed Danny's nerves and made his eyes heavy.

Clockwork had put him up to this. That old man...really was....annoying....Zzzz.

Back in the world of the living and awake mass panic has broken out.

Batboy is currently missing and Nightwing is not handling it well. The entirety of the Gotham Vigilantes team has been notified and is searching the cities of Gotham and Bludhaven.

"Have you searched the docks?" Nightwing asked frantically as he searched every rooftop in the city.

"I'm working on it. Do you really think he's here?" Red Robin said scanning every unit on the lot.

Red Hood didn't know what the BatBoy kid looked like other than the whole wings thing. If his little buddy Phantom could help it would help.

Although they had a slight resemblance Jason could see too many differences when looking at the pictures. Phantom had round ears, and silver hair that moved like fire and looked like a human. Batboy had long sharp ears, claws, pointy teeth, blueish-green skin, wings, and a white fluff around his neck. Clearly, they were different.

Batman searched the dark allies of Gotham as Signal and Orphan split up to cover as much ground as possible. Oracle searched every camera from the past few hours for the boy.

The good news was that Batboy was found. The bad news was who found him.

"Poor little Bluebird lost his fledgling and Batsy is looking for the lost pup. I should let them know that the little guy has been found! Ahahahaha!"

[hauntedbythefanficsofmypast]

Not so Fake

Masterlist

Tim stationed himself in the third sitting room in the Manor. It was the closest to the kitchen, and furthest from the bedrooms and entrance of the manor. In other words, the perfect hiding spot from his overactive family that have united to try and make Tim rest. The only member that would find him right away would be Alfred, who already left him a cup of tea with a few of his cookies along with one of his laptops.

A note left on top stating that Alfred expected him to actually relax, and spotting the stickers Tim could tell this was his personal laptop. Taking Alfred seriously, Tim booted up YouTube and decided to watch his new favorite, GalacticPhantom, or Danny. He had found the channel a few months ago when one of his search engines caught a mention of Tim Drake and Red Robin being the same person.

The video in question had started off with a very well made video of the camera zooming down from a space view of the Earth to Danny’s home town, through his window and coming to a screeching halt in front of Danny and his friend Wes. The opening was highly impressive to Tim and the twenty-five minute video that followed had Tim wanting to pull his hair out.

Everything Wes said was true, completely true.

Tim was absolutely stunned and terrified because the other teen had managed to fully pull together who Red Robin was without even being in Gotham. The only thing that stopped Tim from calling a meeting about it, was that no one in the comments believed him. Instead Wes was mocked with the tried and true, ‘what do the butts match?’. He ended up watching every video under the playlist, ‘Wes the Detective’ and every single video hit right on the money but absolutely no one believed him. 

Well, no one but his friends it seemed. Tim had a couple theories about it and if it wasn’t for the fact that Wes has his identity clock he’d be staking out the town now. So he chose to stick to the theory that Wes was incredibly smart, but cursed in some way.

However today Danny had posted a new video and Tim could barely wait to watch it. The title was called ‘This thing wont leave me alone.’ and the thumbnail showed a screaming Danny holding a broom with a humanism but clearly not human girl spiderman to his ceiling seemingly hissing at him.

Tim grinned as he pressed play and settled back into the couch to watch. As the intro came to an end it found Danny in the closet of his bedroom speaking into the camera as if he was documenting his last moments.

“Hello everyone and welcome back to my channel.” He whispered softly only stopping at a noise outside the door that sounded like nails scratching against something. “What the—” the chittering of a badger interrupted him to cover his curse. “Today I’m hiding in my closet because this demon thing showed up and won’t leave me alone.” Something being knocked over in the background was heard causing Danny to freeze again. “I am taking my stand though, I have my makeshift weapon and-and I’m gonna face it. In the event that I don’t come out of this alive, Tucker you can have my Doomed character, Sam just ask them out already, Val you can sell all my stuff, and Wes I’m sorry I gaslight everyone in school that one time into thinking you weren’t real.” 

“That was—you Danny, oh you better hope you don’t survive after this!” Wes snapped from behind the camera, his curse being covered by bird chirps, and a second later Tucker’s head popped up from the bottom right screen. 

“You’re focusing on that rather than the fact Danny said that all to the screen like we weren’t even here.” Danny shushed them all dramatically holding his broom in front of him like a weapon.

“It is time. Remember me views, remember me.”

“So—dramatic.” Sam is heard but not shown on camera, soon after Danny is shown bursting out of the closet startling the humanoid creature with white hair and bright neon green eyes. 

Tim assumes the creature is one of their little siblings decked out in a creepy cosplay, a really creepy one that Sam definitely had to have a hand in making.

The girl immediately starts screeching and hissing at Danny who starts screaming back before starting to swat at her with the broom. Only for her to drop on all four and start crawling around to dodge him.

“Why won’t you stay still!!” Danny cried out as he panted slightly out of breath. The girl let out an evil cackle starting to crawl toward him and the others fast as he head began to turn to the point that it was upside down. Everything was silent before Danny began screaming hysterically while hitting the girl with the broom before she managed to jump on him and they began to fight. The video cut off right as the girl got a good hit on his nose, only to come back to Danny back in the closet with a bloody nose.

“You okay man?” Wes asked from behind the camera as Danny just stared dazed ahead. Danny turned to him, eyes unfocused as he stared at the camera.

“Do-do I call an exorcist? Do we have exorcists around us? Bro I have a demon in my house, and my parents who are ghost hunters can’t even detect it. What do I do?”

“Danny, I think she might have broken your Lego space shuttle.” Val was heard and seconds later Danny was shown back outside the closet in a screaming match with her while fist fighting and rolling all over the ground. 

“THAT LEGO SET COST ME FOUR MONTHS ALLOWANCE!!”

“I’M GOING TO MAKE YOU REGRET BREAKING IT!”

“ALL I DID WAS HIT YOU WITH A BROOM!”

The girl seemed to be responding to him in either gibberish, or a language they created. Which only seemed to anger Danny more.

“ENGLISH! SPEAK ENGLISH!!” The girl paused, stopping herself from landing a solid punch to his cheek before grinning at the confused teen.

“No.” Danny seemed stunned before anger took over again and the fight continued.

“You can_____speaking english! You____daughter of a______!!” The feed cut off before returning to Danny who was sitting on the bed of his wrecked room. The girl in question nowhere to be seen as Val cleaned some blood off Danny's cheek with a grin.

“I don’t know where she went, but I know she is still in my house. Tune in next time I find her because she better have some money to pay me back for my lego set. Thanks for stopping to watch this episode of mine and until next time, don’t let the ghosts get ya.”

“That was pretty interesting.” Dick said as he stole a cookie from Tim’s plate. “Are all his videos like that?” Tim didn’t even blink at his brother's sudden appearance as he moved to type out a comment.

“For the most part, ya. He’s a shit poster, his content is just a tun of stuff that is so outrageous and realistic but clearly not real.”

‘That fight gave off peak sibling energy. It’s giving, I’m gonna fight my sibling to the death because of one slight inconvenience.’

Jason hummed as he picked his book back up, dropping down in front of the couch to reread Pride and Prejudice. “Ya he was definitely fighting his little sister. He held back too much and she wasn’t pulling her punches.” 

“Only Drake would spend his time watching pointless videos.” Damien huffed, causing Tim to roll his eyes.

“Awe Dami, you know Tim is on mandatory rest. No work of any kind.” Dick grinned before jumping up, wrapping his arms around Damien and dragging him down onto the couch.

“Richard!! Let me go this instant!!” Damien screamed struggling to get away from his octopus of an older brother.

“No! I need my little brother cuddles and I need them from my Dami! No escape for you now.” Damian kept fighting Dick’s hold for the next twenty-five minutes while Tim put another of Danny’s videos on and rewatched it with Jason and Dick watching as well. The video in question was one where Danny went through a locker with his friends and went back in time to when his school first opened. Jason snorted, commenting on them making everything black and white. Danny meets a seemingly see-through kid named Sidney Poindexter and it ends with the two of them having a dance off.

“Bruce, why the fuck are your kids watching a video of a kid dancing with an Infinite Relams ghost?” Tim paused, staring blankly at his computer screen before turning to look at Bruce and John Constantine. “Wow holy shit, the Infinite Realms rarely interact with us since Luthor let the Anti-Ecto Acts pass. Yet that kid is interacting with one like their friends.”

“You’re saying this shits real?” Jason asked, closing his book looking at the screen more interested.

“Language Master Jason.” Alfred said as he walked in from a tray of tea for everyone.

“Sorry Alfred.” John nodded as he moved closer, eyes trained on Poindexter.

“If it is not real it is still more similar than could be possible. They’ve definitely had interactions with the Realms.”

“Wait, what are the Anti-Ecto Acts?” Tim asked his attention zeroing in on John.

“Well fuck, you don’t know? It affects like all of you, thought for sure you’d know. Shit this is gonna take so long to explain. We’re gonna have to call a JL meeting for this explanation because I’m not doing it twice.”

Of Meetings and Musings

[brunchable]

It's not a Meet-𝑪𝒖𝒕𝒆, it's a Meet-𝗨𝗴𝗹𝘆. 《 Chapter 4: First Snow. 》

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader Themes: It's not a meet-cute, it's a meet ugly, Grumpy Meets ✨️Sunshine✨️, Opposites Attract, Sassy Pet Matchmaker, Enemies-to-Lovers (Lite), Destined to meet again, Bucky is a hidden softie. Summary: Rhys punches Bucky. A/N: This story will be OUTSIDE of MCU but Bucky's traits will be mixed comics/mcu. This will be updated every FRIDAY(AEST). Adouble update what?? Credits to me for the Banner lmfao. credits to @ khaer for the divider.

You found yourself at the exclusive charity gala hosted by none other than The Emporium NYC—the brand your family had poured decades of effort into, now under your guidance as the new CEO. The chandeliers sparkled overhead, casting an elegant glow on the crowd below. You were dressed to the nines, a sleek gown that turned a few heads as you made your way through the event, mingling with business elites and socialites alike.

But tonight, even with all the excitement and the well-wishes in your honor, the event felt hollow. Rhys hadn’t even bothered to follow up after your argument; instead, he’d left you to attend alone, citing “deadlines” without even the courtesy of a call.

You brushed off the nagging disappointment as best as you could, forcing yourself into the motions—smiling politely, engaging in small talk, and pretending to care about which investments were “in” this year. Just as you debated sneaking out for some air and possibly texting Lincoln to bring the car around, a familiar face caught your eye.

There was Bucky, standing awkwardly near a table of canapés, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. He was wearing a suit, but somehow, it seemed like he hadn’t entirely agreed to it. Apparently, he’d been convinced by Sam to come along to “loosen up” and “put himself out there,” which sounded suspiciously like Sam’s code for “torture Bucky with forced socializing.”

The sight of him, uncomfortably tugging at his collar, made you smile.

Before you even had a chance to greet him, he glanced up, catching sight of you, and did a double-take. He looked you up and down, clearly not expecting you to look… immaculate.

“Well, if it isn’t the king of resting grump face,” you teased, giving him a once-over. “Who roped you into this?”

He rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath, “A friend. Said it’d be ‘good for me.’” He leaned closer, mock whispering, “I feel like I’m at a wedding where I don’t know the bride or the groom.”

He then raised an eyebrow, his gaze settling back on you. “What about you? Didn’t think I’d see you here.”

You gave a small, tired smile. 

“I’m the guest of honor, actually,” you explained. “The company wanted to make a big deal about me taking over, so here I am. Networking, keeping up appearances, and all that. Not exactly my favorite way to spend the evening.”

“What? Alone?” he asked, looking genuinely surprised.

You sighed, “Well… wasn’t supposed to be, but here I am. Just me and all this sparkling conversation.”

“Sounds like a blast.” He paused, glancing toward the crowded room and then back to you. “How about a little detour?”

Without waiting for you to answer, he gave a subtle nod toward the balcony doors. You hesitated only a second before following him, slipping away from the noisy crowd. The cool evening air was a welcome relief as you stepped onto the balcony, leaving the gala’s glittering scene behind.

As you leaned against the balcony railing, enjoying the cool air, fireworks suddenly burst across the sky in a loud, over-the-top display. Bucky raised an eyebrow, staring at the colorful explosions with a perfectly flat expression.

“Wow,” he said dryly. “I guess this is their way of saying, ‘Thanks for enduring the world’s most boring gala.’”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Oh, come on. It’s not that bad.”

Bucky shot you a look. 

“The appetizers are the size of my thumb, everyone’s pretending to care about whose yacht is biggest, and I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve heard the phrase, ‘Ah, you’re the guy with the metal arm, right?’” He paused, smirking. “No, wait—I stand corrected. It’s definitely that bad.”

You laughed, nearly doubling over. “Fine, fine. Maybe it’s a little unbearable.”

“A little?” Bucky raised his arms in mock disbelief. “I’d rather be chased by an actual bear.”

Before you could respond, a camera flash caught both of your attention. You looked over just in time to see a photographer inching closer, recognizing Bucky and readying his camera.

“Oh, no,” Bucky muttered, eyes widening. Without a second thought, he ducked behind you, hiding like a kid trying to avoid a parent-teacher conference.

“Are you kidding me?” you whispered, snickering. “You’re seriously hiding behind me?”

Bucky’s voice came from just over your shoulder, desperate but deadpan. 

“Do you know how ridiculous it is having pictures out there of me just… standing around, doing nothing? People already think I spend my free time brooding in a dark cave or plotting world domination. This’ll just confirm it.”

The photographer was undeterred, trying to get a clear angle. You decided to make it worse for him. Plastering on a winning smile, you called out scrunching your nose, “I’m sorry, but he’s very shy. You’ll need an appointment.”

Bucky, catching on, slouched further behind you, groaning dramatically. “Yes, I’m a fragile introvert,” he declared, though it sounded more sarcastic. “All this socializing is emotionally taxing.”

The photographer gave you both a look of pure exasperation, muttered something like, “Celebrities,” and finally left, muttering under his breath.

As soon as he was gone, Bucky straightened up, looking both annoyed and relieved. 

“Oh yeah, laugh it up,” he grumbled as you doubled over, laughter spilling out uncontrollably.

Through your giggles, you gasped, “Honestly, who knew you were camera-shy?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, shooting you a half-hearted glare. “I’m not camera-shy. I just don’t need photos of me doing… absolutely nothing.”

You were about to fire back with another teasing remark when a voice called from the doorway. 

“Hey Boss?” Lincoln said, looking around the balcony, finally spotting you and pausing after catching you with Bucky. 

You groaned, rolling your eyes, the interruption pulling you back to reality. 

“Duty calls,” you sighed, turning back to Bucky with a reluctant smile.

He smirked, folding his arms as he watched you with a glint in his eye. “Guess I’ll just have to survive the party on my own.”

“Well,” you teased, backing toward the door, “try to avoid any other photographers. I don’t think I can save you twice.”

Bucky chuckled, taking a small step forward. 

“I’ll manage. But hey,” he said, holding your gaze for a beat longer, “maybe I’ll catch you around again… if you’re not too busy saving other poor souls.”

A giddy warmth bloomed in your chest as you tried to keep your expression casual. 

“Maybe,” you replied, giving him a small, playful wave as you stepped back into the light of the ballroom.

As you walked away, you couldn’t help but glance over your shoulder one last time. Bucky was still there, hands in his pockets, watching you leave with that unreadable but somehow endearing look. And as you slipped back into the crowd, you couldn’t fight the small, stupid grin that tugged at your lips.

You caught Lincoln’s expression—one part curiosity, two parts astonishment, and maybe even a hint of betrayal. He quickly fell into step beside you, his voice dropping to an urgent whisper-shout.

“What the—? You know him?” Lincoln’s eyes widened as he tried to process what he’d just seen. “Is that why you asked me about him last week?”

You pressed your lips together, fighting back a laugh. “Calm down, Lincoln,” you teased, giving him a playful nudge.

“Oh, I’m calm,” he replied, though his eyes sparkled with barely restrained excitement. “Just… maybe feeling a little betrayed you didn’t tell me sooner. . . So can I have an autograph?”

× × × ×

Mission Report - J. B. Barnes To: N. Fury Subject: Preliminary Surveillance – The Emporium NYC Gala

Summary:

Attended charity gala hosted by The Emporium NYC, commemorating Ms. Y/LN’s recent promotion to CEO. Initial impressions align with prior assessments—She upholds a strong public image, maintaining composure and control over social interactions. Notably absent was her brother, who is assumed to play a significant role in the family business. Financial connections between The Emporium and Hydra remain unconfirmed at this stage.

Primary Observations:

Maintained close proximity to Ms. Y/LN during the event without raising suspicion. Her interactions suggest minimal awareness of potential financial inconsistencies within The Emporium. Detected a slight tension in her demeanor, potentially unrelated to business—indicating she may be open to informal connection or support.

Detailed Notes:

She was notably present without partner Rhys De Armande’s, who was expected as her support. Possible internal strain within close relationships could provide leverage if needed.

During casual conversation, Ms. Y/LN displayed no defensive behavior or signs of suspicion, indicating low likelihood of awareness about The Emporium’s alleged Hydra-linked transactions.

Absence of her brother raises questions regarding his involvement; additional background assessment on his role is advised.

Next Steps:

1. Gather intel on Ms. Y/LN’s brother and his level of involvement in company affairs.

2. Establish a means of recurring contact with Ms. Y/LN, potentially leveraging existing rapport to gain closer access to The Emporium’s internal affairs.

3. Monitor Rhys De Armande’s for any connections or knowledge that could corroborate Hydra involvement.

Conclusion:

Further investigation is required to confirm any connections to Hydra funding or activities. Ms. Y/LN appears unconnected to questionable financial activities, though developing a closer association could aid in discerning the nature of her family’s business ties. Recommend extending this cover to build familiarity with Ms. Y/LN and establish grounds for continued observation.

End Report

——

After finishing his report, Bucky leaned back, glancing over the words he’d typed. His gaze drifted to the section where he’d noted your apparent innocence in the financial dealings, the way you seemed oblivious to the possible Hydra ties. He read through it again, feeling a faint tug of something uncomfortably close to hesitation. The report had started to sound less like a surveillance file and more like a defense of you, highlighting reasons why you couldn’t be involved.

He scrubbed a hand over his face, mind flickering back to your laughter on the balcony, the way you’d leaned against the railing, unguarded and vibrant against the glittering cityscape. This was just a mission, he reminded himself. And yet, the thought of digging deeper, of edging closer to unravel the truth about you and your family, left a sour taste in his mouth.

With a sigh, Bucky closed the laptop. Getting close to you wasn’t just part of the assignment now—it felt like he was being drawn in against his own judgment. And for a man who’d always trusted his instincts, that was proving harder to shake than he’d expected.

× × × ×

The next morning, you were seated at your desk, a stack of files and emails demanding your attention. You were barely halfway through your coffee when the door to your office swung open without so much as a knock. Rhys strode in, his jaw clenched and his expression hard as he slapped a stack of photos down on your desk.

“What’s this?” he demanded, his tone icy.

You blinked, glancing down at the photos in front of you. Each one showed you on the balcony last night with Bucky—leaning against the railing, laughing, and standing close enough to him that it could easily be misinterpreted. The photographer had clearly captured every moment, especially the one where Bucky ducked behind you, making it look almost… intimate.

You took a steadying breath, not breaking eye contact as you replied, “It’s exactly what it looks like. I was at the gala, taking a break on the balcony, and happened to run into a friend.”

Rhys let out a disbelieving scoff. 

“A ‘friend’? This guy—Bucky Barnes?” He gestured to the photos, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Do you even know who he is? Since when do you two get so close?”

You felt a flare of frustration but kept your tone calm. “Since we ran into each other last night, Rhys. We were just talking. That's it.”

“You’re representing the company, Y/N. This isn’t the image we’re trying to project.” He folded his arms, staring down at you with a hard, unyielding expression. 

“Oh, I see.” You arched an eyebrow, finally letting a hint of your irritation slip. “So, the issue here isn’t that I was talking to someone—it’s that I was talking to him?”

Rhys clenched his jaw, looking ready to argue further but instead settling on a quieter, pointed tone. 

“We have an image to uphold. People are going to start talking if you’re seen getting cozy with some guy on a balcony—better yet an ex-assassin.”

“If people want to talk, they’ll talk, no matter what I do, Rhys. And for the record, there was nothing ‘cozy’ about it.” You held his gaze, unflinching.

Rhys leaned forward, his tone soft but cold. “Just… watch yourself. You wouldn’t want any misunderstandings to get in the way of your responsibilities, would you?”

He straightened, his expression still severe as he waited for your response. You met his gaze, forcing a small, composed smile. 

“Yeah—okay. Noted.” You nonchalantly shrugged, “Now, if you’re done, I have work to do.”

After a tense beat, Rhys finally nodded, his face tight as he turned and strode out of your office, leaving the stack of photos on your desk as a bitter reminder. You took a steadying breath, staring down at the images for a moment before sliding them aside, determination hardening your expression.

As you refocused on your work, a faint memory of Bucky’s amused smile from last night flickered in your mind, lingering as you shook off the chill of Rhys’s visit.

× × × × 

You weren’t quite sure why you’d agreed to come to this high tea in the first place. Sitting here, surrounded by ornate teacups and delicate pastries, you wondered if some part of you had wanted to give this gathering one last chance—or maybe Sarah had just been very persuasive. Either way, here you were, sipping tea with college “friends” whose fathers all happened to be powerful men with influence. Chloe’s father owned a chain of luxury resorts, Cindy’s was a prominent investor, and Louzy’s family practically monopolized a certain high-end fashion brand. They had all grown up in the world of prestige, learning to wield influence with a perfectly manicured smile.

Across from you, Chloe extended her hand with a satisfied smile, the enormous diamond ring on her finger glinting in the afternoon light. 

“So,” she cooed, with an air of superiority, “Andy finally proposed. Practically begged me to say yes.” She laughed lightly, flicking her hair. “It’s been, what, a year and a half? I’d say he made a smart choice, wouldn’t you?”

Cindy gasped, leaning forward, eyes wide. “Oh my gosh, Chloe! It’s stunning. I can’t believe he went with such a massive diamond!”

Louzy added, “That ring is literally to die for. I mean, anyone with a ring that size has to be super special, right?”

Chloe smirked, then turned her gaze to you, her eyes gleaming with barely concealed judgment. 

“But, Y/N, you’ve been with Rhys for… how long now?” She clicked her tongue, feigning surprise. “Still no ring, huh?”

You took a sip of your tea, forcing yourself to remain calm. “It’s been a few years, yes.”

“Oh, a few years?” Chloe repeated, her tone laced with condescension. “I mean, not to sound rude, but… you’d think he’d be, you know, a little more committed by now.” 

She gave you a sickly sweet smile. “Especially since you’ve been attending a lot of events solo.”

Sarah shifted beside you, clearly annoyed, her fingers tightening around her teacup. You caught her eye, giving her a small, reassuring smile.

“I think Rhys and I are just… taking things at our own pace,” you replied, keeping your tone calm but firm. “Some people prefer to build a relationship on something deeper than a timeline.”

Chloe’s smile faltered slightly, but she quickly recovered. “Oh, of course. I mean, whatever works, right?” She shrugged, leaning back in her chair. “Though, personally, I think it’s nice to have that… security.”

Cindy nodded enthusiastically. “Totally! Who doesn’t want a big, sparkly ring to show everyone how loved they are?”

Louzy, who had been listening intently, suddenly perked up, her gaze sliding to Sarah. She tilted her head, a hint of mischief in her eyes. “Hey, Sarah, I love that top! Is it one of the things you borrowed from Y/N’s wardrobe?”

A smug smile crept across Louzy’s face, clearly reveling in the veiled insult.

Before Sarah could respond, you placed your teacup down with a deliberate calmness, fixing Louzy with an unwavering gaze. 

“Actually,” you said coolly, “Sarah works for the Daily Bugle. And she has fantastic taste—though I wouldn’t expect you to recognize it.”

Louzy blinked, momentarily thrown off. Cindy looked at her in confusion, then at Sarah. “The Daily Bugle? Isn’t that… a real newspaper?”

Sarah shot you a grateful look, her confidence restored. “Yes, Cindy, it’s a real newspaper,” she replied with a touch of humor.

Sensing the shift, Chloe lifted her hand to admire her ring again, determined to reclaim the spotlight. 

“Well, anyway, let’s not get sidetracked,” she sighed, as if tolerating the attention on anyone else had been exhausting. “I just think it’s wonderful to finally have everything in place.”

You forced a polite smile, leaning into your chair. “Yes, Chloe. It really is… wonderful,” you replied, voice smooth but tinged with sarcasm.

As the tea dragged on, Chloe and Louzy tossed subtle jabs your way, but you countered with steady calm. Every now and then, Sarah would shoot you a grin, and by the end of the afternoon, you felt a quiet satisfaction settle over you.

You stepped out of the tea place with Sarah, letting out an exasperated sigh. “Remind me again why we went in there and willingly subjected ourselves to that?”

Sarah chuckled, glancing back at the elegant yet pretentious building. “Well, I always wanted to try that tea place… you know, just once.”

You raised an eyebrow, glancing down at your Chanel tweed jacket and skirt as if regretting dressing up for this crowd. 

“Sarah, why didn’t you just tell me? We can go here anytime without needing to endure Chloe’s… antics.”

Sarah chuckled sheepishly, running a hand through her hair. “I guess I didn’t want to impose.”

Just then, your phone buzzed, and you glanced down to see Lincoln’s name flashing on the screen. 

“One sec,” you said, answering the call. “Lincoln? What’s up?”

“Hey, Boss,” he replied, his tone urgent. “We’ve got an issue with the Emporium accounts—a discrepancy that needs your immediate approval to resolve. And, well, the board’s asking for an answer ASAP.”

You frowned, glancing at Sarah apologetically. “Okay. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

You hung up, turning to Sarah with a reluctant sigh. “Looks like I’ve got to head back to work. Raincheck on that shopping trip?”

Sarah nodded, waving her hand. “Of course! Go do your CEO thing,” she teased with a smile. “I’ll hold you to that raincheck, though.”

You laughed, giving her a quick hug before stepping toward the curb, lifting a hand to hail a cab. As one pulled up, you glanced back at Sarah with a quick grin. “Promise, next time it’s just us—and zero frenemies.”

With a parting wave, you slid into the cab, already shifting gears mentally to whatever awaited you back at the office.

Sarah watched you disappear into the cab with a sigh, her shoulders slumping. Just as she turned to figure out her next move, her phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen, wincing when she saw the caller ID. Taking a steadying breath, she answered.

“SARAH!” J. Jonah Jameson’s voice practically exploded through the phone, making her jump and hold the phone a few inches away from her ear. “I need you back at the office, pronto!”

“Uh, hi, Mr. Jameson,” she replied, trying to sound composed. “Is everything okay?”

“Do I sound like everything’s okay?” he barked. “We’ve got a tip on a big story—no, a scandal! Could shake up the whole city! And I need my best reporter here now!”

Sarah rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips. “On my way, boss.”

“Good!” he replied, practically cutting off the line before she could respond.

With a shake of her head and a resigned smile, Sarah headed down the street, already mentally preparing for the whirlwind of work that awaited her at the Daily Bugle.

As Sarah headed toward the office, she couldn't help but wonder what kind of "scandal" could have Jameson so worked up. The Daily Bugle was always sniffing out juicy stories, but this sounded personal. When she finally reached the office and pushed through the doors, she barely made it to her desk before Jameson spotted her and charged over.

“Glad you finally made it,” he said, his voice intense. “We just got a tip about the Emporium—the shopping mall empire. Something big is going on behind the scenes.”

Sarah’s eyes widened, and her mind raced. Y/N’s family business.

“Do we have any solid information yet?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

Jameson thrust a stack of preliminary notes and reports into her hands. “Not yet, but rumors are swirling about questionable transactions, offshore accounts, maybe even connections to shady organizations. I want you on this, Sarah. Dig deep, find out if there’s a scandal in there somewhere. If there’s dirt, I want it on the front page!”

Sarah forced a nod, her mind flashing back to her earlier tea with you. 

“Got it, boss,” she replied, clutching the documents, her mind already racing with questions about what this could mean for you—and how she would approach it without compromising her friendship with you.

× × × × 

A discrepancy in the accounts wasn’t typical, not for The Emporium, and certainly not something the board would demand immediate approval to resolve. Numbers ran like clockwork under your oversight, and you’d established a system so airtight that any red flag was immediately worth noting.

Staring out the window, you couldn't help but feel a pang of unease twist in your gut. Sure, discrepancies happened—data entries, system glitches, even miscommunication between departments. But this felt different. Lincoln’s urgency wasn’t the usual, nor was the board’s sudden insistence on your approval.

You knew that taking on the CEO position would mean an endless carousel of problems needing to be fixed or avoided, but this was something more. Something beyond routine. You’d barely had time to settle into the role, and already it seemed like cracks were surfacing.

When you finally arrived at The Emporium’s main office, you stepped out of the cab, straightening your posture as if bracing yourself against whatever you were about to face. The lobby bustled with activity as usual, employees and visitors moving about, the hum of productivity masking the weight of whatever issue had been quietly simmering beneath.

Once upstairs, you strode into your office, where Lincoln was already waiting, a set of documents spread out on the table. His usual calm demeanor was tinged with tension as he handed you a tablet displaying the latest financial report.

“Here’s the summary,” he said, his voice lowered. “It’s in the overhead expenses—numbers don’t line up with projected costs, but it’s small enough that it might’ve flown under the radar.”

You scanned the figures, your brows furrowing as the discrepancy became more apparent. The numbers weren’t wildly off, but they were just enough to be suspicious. The amounts were being siphoned off in bits and pieces—a little here, a little there—practically invisible unless someone knew where to look.

“Who else has seen this?” you asked, voice steady as you looked up.

“Just you, me, and the board,” Lincoln replied. “They’re pressing for a quick approval to ‘rectify the issue,’ but…” His voice trailed off, clearly cautious about voicing his suspicions.

“But it doesn’t feel right,” you finished for him, the weight of his unspoken concern settling over you both.

You set the tablet down, crossing your arms as you considered your options. This was your first significant test as CEO, and you couldn’t afford to let it slide—not without answers.

“Alright, Lincoln,” you said, your tone resolved. “I want a full audit of every expense tied to this discrepancy. And I want to know who’s overseeing these transactions.”

He nodded, already jotting down notes. “I’ll get the team on it. In the meantime, maybe stall the board?”

You gave a tight smile. “Let them know I’ll review it by end of day. They’ll get answers once I have them.”

As Lincoln left, you exhaled slowly, leaning against your desk, the polished surface cool beneath your fingers. You’d wanted this job, wanted to carve your own place in your family’s legacy, but now you were feeling the weight of what that truly meant. You were the one in charge, and this—no matter how small it might seem to others—was yours to resolve.

With a quick shake of your head, you steeled yourself and turned back to the tablet. You had no intention of being caught off guard again.

Your phone buzzed, drawing you out of your focus. It was a text from Rhys.

Rhys: Hey, can’t make it to dinner tonight. Got to stay overtime at work.

You glanced at the message, feeling a familiar twinge of disappointment. Your fingers hovered over the keyboard as you typed, your response clipped.

You: K.

A few seconds later, the dots appeared, then disappeared. Another message popped up.

Rhys: Raincheck?

You stared at the screen, your lips pressing into a thin line.

You: Sure.

× × × ×

By the end of the day, you’d pored over the accounts, scrutinized each line and every report, reviewing it all until the numbers blurred together. Yet no matter how many times you examined the details, something about the discrepancy didn’t sit right. The board was pressing for a quick approval, but approving without full certainty wasn’t a risk you were willing to take.

Taking a steadying breath, you pulled up the video call with the board members. Your face remained composed, professional, as you addressed them.

“After a thorough review of the accounts, I’ve decided to delay my approval,” you announced, your voice calm yet resolute. “I want to ensure everything aligns perfectly before moving forward, for the good of the company.”

A few board members nodded in understanding, but one of them—a man with a steely gaze and a penchant for impatience—leaned forward, his brows furrowing. “With all due respect, Ms. Y/N, perhaps another review could clear this up quickly. We’ve been waiting on this matter for a while.”

You met his gaze evenly, unfazed by his subtle challenge. “I understand the urgency, but approving without absolute clarity could expose us to greater risk down the line. I’d prefer to be certain now rather than regretful later,” you replied, keeping your tone respectful but firm. “I’m sure we can all agree that protecting The Emporium’s integrity is our first priority.”

A murmur of agreement spread among some of the board members, though the one opposing you still seemed unconvinced. He opened his mouth to press further, but you didn’t give him the chance.

“I’ll follow up with additional findings by the end of the week,” you continued, your voice steady. “But until then, my decision to hold off stands.”

You could feel the weight of their scrutiny, but you held your ground, watching as one by one, they gave reluctant nods. After a few more exchanges, the call ended, and you exhaled, feeling a mix of relief and resolve. You’d faced their pushback with confidence—and ensured that your standards for the company remained intact.

As you leaned back in your chair, the weight of the meeting with the board still settling over you, a knock at the door pulled you from your thoughts. It was Lincoln, poking his head in, his expression a blend of curiosity and concern.

“How did it go?” he asked, stepping inside and closing the door quietly behind him.

You managed a small smile. “Surprisingly well. There was some pushback, but I held my ground,” you said, leaning forward to stack some papers. “They weren’t exactly thrilled about the delay, but I made it clear why I’m being cautious.”

Lincoln nodded approvingly, hands slipping into his pockets. “Good call. Want me to arrange your ride home?”

You glanced at the clock, then back at the files still sprawled out over your desk. “Thanks, Lincoln, but I think I’ll be staying late. Just want to go over everything one more time, be certain I didn’t miss anything.”

With a nod of understanding, Lincoln gave a brief smile. “Alright. I’ll see you in the morning then,” he said before heading out, leaving you alone with the silence of the office and the persistent, nagging feeling that there was something still buried in the numbers.

Determined, you dove back into the system, meticulously retracing each figure and record line by line. After what felt like hours, your eyes caught something—a detail that seemed to have slipped through before, a specific source of funds that suddenly appeared in the data. You swore it hadn’t been there in your last review, but there it was now, standing out like a flag.

A frown creased your forehead as you hovered over the entry, wondering if you could’ve really missed it. You wanted to cancel the audit entirely and approve the request, as the newly surfaced detail seemed to align perfectly with the numbers. But as you leaned closer to the screen, the strange sense of something being slightly off continued to linger, almost hauntingly.

But it all looked right… didn’t it?

× × × ×

As you step out of the Emporium, the chilly late November air greets you, and the faint sound of holiday music filters through the street, blending with the gentle noise of the city. Pulling your coat tighter around you, you start to head toward the curb when a figure catches your eye.

There, leaning against a lamppost just outside the building, is Bucky. His face is partially shadowed, and he’s dressed casually, hands tucked into his pockets, looking a bit out of place yet completely at ease in the late-night scene.

“Bucky?” you ask, your surprise evident as you step closer. “What are you doing here?”

He straightens, glancing briefly up at the Emporium sign before looking back at you. 

“Oh, hey,” he says, “I was just, uh—meeting someone nearby. Thought I’d take a walk after, and figured I’d swing by here to see if the rumors were true about those holiday lights.”

You raise an eyebrow, a hint of skepticism in your expression. “Really? You decided to swing by the Emporium in the middle of the night to check out Christmas decorations?”

He shrugs, looking offhanded but not entirely defensive. “Yeah, well, they’re pretty famous. Thought I’d see them up close. But I guess you got the better view from up there.” He nods toward the office windows, giving a slight smirk.

You cross your arms, unable to help the amused smile that tugs at your lips. 

“Sure, okay,” you say, not entirely convinced but entertained by his excuse nonetheless. “But for the record, you didn’t miss much. It’s just lights.”

“Hey, it’s the season,” he replies, gesturing around at the twinkling displays. “Guess you’re not a fan?”

“After a long day of spreadsheets and budget requests? Not tonight,” you say, shaking your head. “But thanks for the review.”

Bucky shrugs, glancing at the quiet street. “Well, then, let me make it up to you. Mind if I walk with you?”

You give him a raised eyebrow, a hint of a smile playing at your lips. 

“Actually, I have a car waiting,” you say, teasing just a little. Then, with a small sigh, you add, “But… I guess I’ll say yes. Just because I don’t want to feel guilty.”

He lets out a low chuckle, falling in step beside you. 

“Well, far be it from me to give you a guilt trip,” he replies, a bit of mischief in his eyes. 

You and Bucky strolled side by side down the twinkling city streets, he glanced over, his expression relaxed yet curious. 

“So,” he started casually, “how was the day? Besides the whole spreadsheet marathon and budget thing.”

You shrugged, lips quirking. “Oh, you know, just another day of trying to keep an empire afloat without losing my sanity.”

He chuckled, his gaze following the lights strung along the trees. “No pressure, right?”

“Not at all,” you replied dryly, sharing a knowing look. “Though I will say, I could’ve used a win today… like maybe a certain bag of cat kibble.”

A spark lit his eyes, and he tilted his head with a smirk. “Ah, you mean the bag of kibble I heroically claimed off the highest shelf? I’ll have you know that was Alpine’s reward for being a saint.”

You scoffed, feigning disbelief. “Heroically? You didn’t even offer to help. You just left me there, hanging—literally.”

“I don’t know,” he replied, a glint of amusement in his gaze. “You seemed pretty resourceful. Besides, I figured I’d let the ‘trash panda’ hone her skills.”

You nudged his arm lightly, as you continued through the festive district, the world around you buzzing with soft chatter and the glow of holiday lights. The chill in the air had grown crisper, biting, and you tucked your hands deeper into your coat pockets.

Then, just as you were about to reply with another retort, a tiny cold speck landed right on the tip of your nose. You blinked, surprised, watching as Bucky’s eyes drifted upward, following yours to the sky. Little white flakes were floating down, delicate and pure, catching in the glow of the lights as they drifted.

“Oh…” you whispered, lifting your hand to catch a few of the tiny, fleeting snowflakes, their touch cold against your skin. Around you, a hush settled as people stopped to take in the first snowfall of the year, gazes lifted in awe.

Bucky held out his hand, watching a single flake melt against his palm, his expression unreadable. And just then, he overheard a soft voice from a couple nearby, a woman nudging her guy friend and whispering, “You know, in my country… seeing the first snow with someone you like means you’ll fall in love and have a lasting relationship.”

The man laughed, nudging her back, but Bucky shook his head slightly, a low chuckle escaping him at the sentiment. That’s ridiculous, he thought, though when he glanced back, his gaze softened. You stood there, face upturned to the sky, lips parted in a soft, childlike smile, utterly mesmerized by the tiny specks of snow falling around you. The snowflakes caught in your hair, melting against your cheeks, their delicate spirals illuminated by the glow of the city lights. You lifted your hand slowly, palm open as if to cradle the snow, and for a brief moment, the world around you seemed to fall away, leaving only the gentle dance of winter’s first gift.

Bucky found himself frozen, captivated by the simple joy radiating from you, his own breath catching in his throat. The city sounds faded, and all he could focus on was you, wrapped in this fleeting, ethereal moment. The way the snowflakes danced around you, landing softly on your hair and shoulders, made it seem like time itself had stopped.

Bucky cleared his throat, tearing his gaze away and glancing off to the side just as you turned back to him with a soft, glowing smile.

“It’s so lovely, isn’t it?” you said, your voice barely more than a whisper as your eyes drifted back to the falling snow.

He glanced up briefly, letting the snow brush against his face, before looking back at you. 

“Yeah,” he replied quietly, his gaze on you a bit longer. “Lovely.”

× × × × 

Rhys swirled his glass, watching the amber liquid catch the dim lights of the bar. A few of his friends sat around him, joined by two women who laughed at each half-hearted joke he made. He took a sip, then leaned back, crossing his arms with a smug smile.

“You know, these days Y/N seems… less clingy,” he said with a hint of disbelief, like he was still processing the change. “No more arguments, no more endless complaints. I mean, it’s probably just because she’s still bitter I couldn’t make it to that gala,” he added with a dismissive wave.

One of the women leaned forward, tilting her head. “Honey, she’s obviously done with your relationship.”

Rhys snorted, though her words seemed to settle in the air a second too long. One of his friends chuckled, nodding in agreement. “That’s what happened to me last time. She probably wants out. Just break up with her, man.”

Rhys scoffed, looking genuinely taken aback. 

“Are you insane? There’s no way I’m letting her go,” he muttered, taking a longer sip from his glass. “Do you know how valuable her family connections are? And besides, she’s never going to leave me. She’s invested.”

Rhys’ friend, Derek, raised an eyebrow, barely holding back a smirk. “Really? When was the last time you two even slept together?”

Rhys' jaw tightened, irritation flickering across his face. “I’m not telling you that,” he replied curtly, setting his glass down a little harder than necessary.

Derek let out a short, mocking laugh. “Right. Because, you know, inviting other women over for drinks isn’t exactly what most girlfriends would call a turn-on.”

Rhys’ grip on his glass tightened as he turned to face Derek, his gaze hardening. “Got something you want to say, man?”

Derek just shrugged, a lazy smirk playing on his lips as he leaned back, clearly enjoying how easily he’d ruffled Rhys. 

“Hey, I’m just saying… maybe you should think twice before acting like she’s wrapped around your finger. Just looks like the ice might be thinning, that’s all.”

Rhys glared at him, the playful atmosphere turning tense. But Derek just held his gaze, unconcerned, before lifting his own drink in a mocking toast.

Rhys’ gaze drifted toward the window as he took another sip, only to freeze mid-drink. His jaw clenched as he spotted you walking along the street with Bucky by your side. 

Scoffing, he muttered, “Speak of the devil.”

He slammed his glass down, standing abruptly, drawing curious glances from the women beside him. Derek glanced over, his eyes widening slightly as Rhys stormed out, pushing past the crowd without a word.

Outside, you were laughing lightly, lost in the easy conversation with Bucky, unaware of the storm approaching. The chilly November air swirled around you, a rare moment of peace settling between you two under the soft glow of the city lights and holiday decorations.

“Y/N!” Rhys’ voice cut through the evening calm, loud and unmistakably irritated.

Startled, you turned, seeing him striding toward you, a tense expression on his face. Bucky’s gaze flickered to him, his posture shifting slightly as Rhys approached.

“Rhys… what are you doing here?” you asked, instinctively stepping back as he drew closer.

“Forget that,” he said, brushing off your question, his tone sharp. His gaze narrowed as it flickered between you and Bucky before landing back on you. “Let’s go. Now.”

You hesitated, glancing at Bucky, who was watching the situation unfold with a calm but alert expression. “Rhys, I’m just… out for a walk. You don’t get to tell me—”

Before you could finish, Rhys reached for your arm, gripping it firmly. “We’re leaving. This… whatever this is, is over,” he said, jerking his head toward Bucky dismissively.

“Rhys, let go!” you protested, your tone turning firm as you pulled against his grip, but he only tightened his hold, ignoring your plea. His fingers dug into your arm, the discomfort quickly bordering on pain.

“You’re causing a scene,” he hissed, leaning closer as if to scold you.

“Rhys,” you said, a wince escaping, “your grip… it’s starting to hurt.”

That was all Bucky needed to hear. He stepped forward, positioning himself between you and Rhys, gently guiding you behind him. His expression remained calm, but there was a steely edge to his voice as he addressed Rhys.

“You heard her. Let go.” Bucky’s gaze was cold, unwavering, as he stared Rhys down, his entire stance emanating a quiet warning.

Rhys scoffed, his jaw clenched, refusing to back down. “And who exactly are you to tell me what to do?” he sneered, still holding your arm as he squared up to Bucky.

“I’m the guy telling you to let go,” Bucky replied, his tone steady, his eyes locked on Rhys without flinching. He took a small step closer, his frame casting a shadow that made Rhys falter just slightly.

Your voice trembled slightly as you spoke up, “Rhys, please, you’re making this worse.”

Bucky's jaw tensed as he held Rhys' gaze, his piercing blue eyes unyielding, a flicker of restrained anger simmering beneath his calm exterior. He stood tall and solid, a quiet force between you and Rhys, his frame blocking you protectively from Rhys’ looming grip.

“She’s not going anywhere unless she wants to,” Bucky said, his voice low, edged with a steel that made him look almost dangerously calm. He didn’t raise his voice, didn’t make a scene—he didn’t need to. His mere presence, unwavering and intense, was enough to convey every warning Rhys should heed.

Rhys scoffed, rolling his shoulders back as he maintained his grip on your arm, not backing down. 

“Do you know who I am?” he spat, narrowing his eyes. “I’m her boyfriend, so she’s coming with me. Get the hint?”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed just slightly, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, as if Rhys' bravado amused him. 

“Oh, I get the hint,” he replied smoothly, his tone laced with calm menace. “I just don’t care.”

Bucky took a half-step closer, his gaze never wavering, his voice dropping lower. “You heard her. Let. Go.”

Rhys' face twisted in fury, clearly not taking the hint. His grip tightened as he looked straight at you, tugging at your arm again with impatience. 

"Let’s go, Y/N. Now.”

You winced, pulling against his hold, but he held firm, clearly too fueled by anger—and probably the alcohol coursing through his system—to let you walk away.

Bucky’s jaw tightened as he watched you struggle against Rhys’ grip. Without a second thought, he reached forward, his hand strong yet controlled as he pried Rhys’ fingers from your wrist, loosening his hold until your arm was free.

The tension thickened as Rhys’ gaze flicked down to his empty hand, his face contorting with anger. Before either of you could react, he swung, his fist connecting hard with Bucky’s jaw. The impact echoed, drawing the attention of people nearby who began to murmur and stare.

Bucky stumbled back a step, his hand reaching up to wipe the corner of his mouth, smearing the faint trace of blood there. He straightened, his expression calm but his eyes dark and intense. He smirked slightly, almost as if he found Rhys’ outburst… amusing.

“Really?” Bucky murmured, his tone cool, laced with disappointment that cut deeper than anger.

Rhys faltered, his confidence shaken as he met Bucky’s stare—cold, unwavering, and far from intimidated.

Bucky’s fingers flexed at his right side, and he took a half step forward, his eyes never leaving Rhys. The silence between them was charged, heavy with unspoken challenge, but before he could make a move, you gently wrapped your hand around his arm.

“Don’t,” you said softly, knowing Rhy won’t be able to handle what might come for him. “He’s not worth it.”

Bucky’s gaze shifted to you, his hardened expression softening just a fraction. He gave a slow nod, letting out a controlled breath as his shoulders relaxed. Then, without another word, he took a step back, keeping himself firmly between you and Rhys.

Rhys’s gaze darted around, finally noticing the crowd that had gathered, their eyes fixed on the tense scene unfolding before them. A few whispers and pointed glances pierced through his drunken haze, and he stiffened, the hint of embarrassment creeping over his face.

Realizing he was becoming the center of unwanted attention, Rhys clenched his jaw, reluctantly loosening his stance. He took a step back, throwing one last, heated look at you.

“This isn’t over, Y/N,” he said, his voice barely more than a growl, but the threat was clear.

With that, he turned on his heel, brushing past the murmuring onlookers without a backward glance, his posture rigid with lingering anger and frustration. The tension in the air gradually lifted as he disappeared into the crowd, leaving you and Bucky standing together under the soft glow of the city lights.

Bucky turned back to you, his gaze immediately dropping to where you were rubbing your wrist. His eyes softened, and he reached out gently, his fingers brushing yours.

“Let me see,” he murmured, concern lacing his voice as he carefully held your wrist, examining it with a gentle touch that contrasted sharply with the earlier tension.

You offered a small, apologetic smile, averting your gaze. “I’m sorry… about all of that,” you said quietly. “You didn’t have to step in.”

Bucky’s grip was firm but reassuring as he looked back up, meeting your eyes. 

“Don’t apologize for him. And trust me—I did.” His voice was stern, with a hint of quiet conviction, as if he wanted you to understand that he’d gladly do it again if he had to.

Your eyes drifted to the faint bruise forming on Bucky's jaw, the small cut on his lip that still bore a trace of blood. A pang of guilt tugged at you, even though you knew Rhys was the one responsible.

"Bucky…" you began softly, biting your lip. “Let me make it up to you. Come back to my place? I can at least clean that up,” you offered, gesturing to his split lip.

He raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smirk breaking through. “You don’t have to do that, you know.”

You shook your head, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “Well, I want to,” you replied firmly. “So unless you’re planning to argue…”

“Alright, fine,” Bucky agreed, a slight chuckle escaping as he glanced at you.

You pulled out your phone, dialing your chauffeur, and after a brief exchange, arranged for him to meet you both outside. The evening air was crisp, a soft breeze tugging at the stray hairs framing your face as you stood beside Bucky, waiting.

Within minutes, the sleek car pulled up to the curb, and the driver stepped out, opening the door for you both. You slipped inside first, settling into the plush seat as Bucky joined you, still looking slightly amused at the unexpected turn of events.

× × × × 

You unlocked the door, stepping into your penthouse, the soft lights illuminating the modern, inviting space. Almost instantly, Figaro trotted over, his tail swishing elegantly behind him. He rubbed against your legs, his usual greeting… until his gaze landed on Bucky.

The cat stopped in his tracks, staring up at Bucky with wide eyes, almost as if he were thinking, What the…? Figaro let out a small, questioning chirp, his gaze shifting between you and Bucky with unmistakable suspicion, though a small part of him begrudgingly acknowledged, Well, he did have a decent ear-scratching technique last time.

Bucky raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Recognize me, don’t you?” he muttered under his breath, watching Figaro with a knowing look. It was hard to miss the cat’s distinctive tuxedo markings—after all, he’d seen this little troublemaker sneaking over to visit Alpine more than once.

Of course I recognize you, Figaro thought, his eyes narrowing in mild annoyance. Doesn’t mean I have to like you invading my domain.

Unbothered by Figaro’s scrutiny, you led Bucky into the kitchen, opening a drawer to pull out the first aid kit as Bucky settled onto a bar stool. Figaro followed, tail high in the air, but he seemed more fixated on Bucky than usual, his amber eyes narrowing as he watched Bucky’s every move.

“What’s up with you, Figaro?” you asked, casting the cat a puzzled look as you opened the first aid kit on the counter.

I’m keeping an eye on him, obviously, Figaro thought with a huff, not that I’m worried or anything…

But Figaro only responded by jumping onto the countertop—a rare move for him—and inching closer to Bucky with a loud, indignant meow, as if to say, What is this guy doing here?

Bucky chuckled, meeting Figaro’s glare with an amused smirk. “Got a little territorial streak, huh?” He looked back at you. “Pretty sure he doesn’t approve of my presence.”

You glanced between Bucky and Figaro, your brow furrowing in mild disbelief. “Figaro, honestly—what’s with the attitude?” you said, reaching over to give him a gentle scratch behind the ears, but his gaze never left Bucky.

It’s not attitude, Figaro thought, shooting Bucky one last narrowed look. It’s… quality control. You’ll thank me later.

Bucky raised his hands slightly, grinning. “If it makes you feel better, I’m just here for the first aid. Nothing permanent,” he joked, earning another disgruntled meow from Figaro, who continued his vigil from the counter, as if making sure Bucky knew he was being closely monitored.

You shook your head, rolling your eyes with a smile as you dabbed some antiseptic onto a cotton pad, preparing to tend to Bucky’s split lip. Meanwhile, Figaro stayed firmly planted on the counter, his tail twitching as he observed every move with a suspicious, almost possessive air, though a tiny part of him begrudgingly admitted that he didn’t entirely mind Bucky’s presence.

As you began to clean his lip, Bucky’s eyes subtly scanned the room, taking in the layout of your penthouse in that almost instinctive, assessing way. His gaze flicked from the sleek, modern furnishings to the well-organized shelves, noting details without appearing overly interested—a habit he couldn’t quite shake, even in settings like this.

Figaro, still perched on the counter, watched him with narrowed eyes. He let out a low, inquisitive meow, his head tilting slightly as if asking, What happened to your face?

Bucky raised an eyebrow, glancing at Figaro with a smirk. “Oh, so now you’re interested?”

You laughed, catching the exchange. “Figaro’s just keeping tabs on his guests. It’s not every day someone shows up with a busted lip.”

Figaro’s tail flicked, his gaze lingering on Bucky’s bruised jaw, as if silently judging him for somehow letting it happen. You call yourself a tough guy? his eyes seemed to say, a faint air of feline disapproval mixed with that begrudging interest he refused to admit.

Bucky chuckled under his breath. “Well, tell him not to worry. The other guy didn’t fare much better.”

Figaro gave a little snort of a meow, as if to say, Good. Keep it that way, before settling back, still keeping a close eye on Bucky’s every move as he took in the surroundings, each glance and observation not escaping Figaro’s watchful, judgmental gaze.

You dabbed at Bucky’s lip with a cotton swab, your face mere inches from his, he watched you with a soft intensity, a gaze that lingered, one where he couln't tear his eyes away. Figaro, keenly observant even when pretending to ignore things, narrowed his eyes, picking up on the subtle shift in Bucky’s expression. That soft, unwavering look—a look Figaro had seen before, usually directed at Alpine, but never this intense.

Oh, I see… Figaro thought, letting out a low, almost smug-sounding meow that echoed around the kitchen. You find my human. . . attractive don’t you?

Bucky shot a look at Figaro, brows furrowing, as though he could sense the cat’s amusement. Figaro’s tail flicked with a barely contained smugness, his gaze darting between you and Bucky like he’d stumbled upon a secret.

“Something you want to add, buddy?” Bucky muttered under his breath, his tone just low enough.

Hm. How about we settle on a deal? I will help you with her. You throw in a good word for me to your feline friend, okay? The cat only blinked back at him with that irritatingly all-knowing expression, like he was storing this little detail away for later teasing. 

“Oh, he’s just nosy,” you chuckled, glancing over at Figaro, who was watching the two of you with an unmistakable gleam in his eye.

But as you returned your focus to Bucky, Figaro’s gaze lingered on the man, practically oozing feline judgment and, if Bucky had to guess, satisfaction. It was as if Figaro was thinking, Yeah, I caught you, and good luck hiding it.

“There,” you said, stepping back to admire your handiwork. “All done.”

Bucky offered a small smile, his hand instinctively brushing his lip where you’d tended to the cut. 

“Thanks,” he replied, glancing around before adding, “Mind if I…?” He gestured towards the open expanse of your penthouse.

“Go ahead,” you replied, moving to the bar area to fix a couple of drinks. As you started pouring, Bucky drifted towards a series of frames on the wall, his gaze lingering on one particularly large, formal portrait.

He pointed to the frame, glancing back at you. “I didn’t know you had a brother.”

You followed his gaze, feeling a familiar, complicated tug at the sight of the photograph. “Oh, yeah… half-brother, actually. My mom’s the second wife.”

“I see,” he replied softly, still studying the image with an almost analytical eye. He seemed to pick up on the formality in the photograph—the perfectly arranged poses, the distance in everyone’s smiles.

Noticing his expression, you added, “Family photos tend to look like business headshots when your family’s… like mine.”

“Guessing ‘family time’ wasn’t exactly Friday night pizza and board games?” Bucky let out a quiet chuckle, nodding as he looked at you with a newfound understanding. 

You laughed softly, handing him his drink. “Not exactly.” 

As Bucky moved from one framed photo to the next, Figaro padded along right beside him, tail flicking as he matched Bucky’s steps with a slight swagger, casting sidelong glances up at him.

In his mind, Figaro couldn’t help but scrutinize Bucky’s every move. Are you here to get rid of that other guy for good? Because, frankly, I DO NOT like him. He flicked his tail with a sense of finality, as if his opinion were the only one that mattered. Just saying, he thought, staring up at Bucky with a silent, assessing look.

Bucky raised an eyebrow, glancing down to find Figaro practically glued to his side, the cat’s wide, amber eyes watching him with a mix of expectation and judgment. For a brief second, it almost felt like the cat was evaluating him.

“Got something to say, Figaro?” Bucky murmured, giving the cat a curious look.

Figaro simply blinked back, his whiskers twitching in what could only be described as mild approval. Maybe, he thought, as he continued shadowing Bucky’s every step, we can be on the same side, after all.

Bucky paused mid-step, glancing down at Figaro, who was still trailing him like a loyal—albeit judgmental—shadow. He let out a soft chuckle, crouching down to the cat’s level. 

“You’ve got quite the attitude, you know that?” he murmured, extending a cautious hand.

Figaro’s ears twitched as he considered the offering, giving Bucky a look that seemed to say, Finally, some respect. After a brief, regal pause, he leaned in, letting Bucky’s fingers brush over the soft fur on his head. “Guess we’re cool then,” Bucky muttered, scratching behind Figaro’s ears. Figaro’s eyes narrowed in pleasure, a low purr rumbling from his chest. He wasn’t about to admit it, but this arrangement suited him just fine. If you’re here to stay, soldier, at least you know who’s boss around here.

 tags: @winchestert101 @lomlbuckybarnes @lveegsoi @itsshellzy @almosttoopizza

@aami98 @hextech-bros @hzdhrtss @winterslove1917 @infqnitysblog

@ayayaeyato @blackbirdwitch22 @mostlymarvelgirl @bohoooitsme @crdgn

@yiiiikesmish @jae0515 @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @nikey-no-likey @aami98

@almosttoopizza @hextech-bros @wisteriaandwafers @yiiiikesmish @marvelavengerspovs1

@ppbhquinn @ziawbarnes @scott-loki-barnes @let-it-sn0o0ow

[letoasai]

Will work for food ~ Part 4 (1/2)

Part 3 -- Master List

Danny’s hubris was coming back to bite him. It had been so funny when Nightwing–Dick–had invited him to the next family dinner. The next family dinner that happened to be Thanksgiving. Danny hadn’t had a Thanksgiving in a long, long time. He’d been delighted to accept. 

He’d nearly trilled in amusement at the way Tim flushed, kicking Dick under the table in a small attempt to get him to stop talking but the invitation had already been given. 

Danny could practically taste Dick’s glee and Tim’s embarrassment. Emotions weren’t as good as regular food but they were hard to ignore when they grew to a certain level. 

Tim had awkwardly agreed that Danny should come to dinner and Danny accepted, telling Tim to just summon him the usual way. 

It was almost unfair for him to have so much quiet knowledge surrounding their conversations, but it came in handy for the normally closed off vigilantes. Tim knew his family was a lot, and was afraid of overwhelming Danny. Their time together would have to be shared now, but Danny didn’t think that was necessarily true. Tim didn’t want to put Danny on the spot, which was kind.

Tim had always been kind. He didn’t summon Danny for favors or deals but because he could and because he cared. The emotion was so straight forward and genuine that Danny knew he was being rather selfish with it. It had been so long since he had someone new, and living, in his life. 

He lived a long life, and he would just live longer. As a halfa, and a powerful one at that, his life tap danced a precarious line. His living half would always mirror his dead half, and it had taken him some years to work out that his Phantom form could change based on his perception of himself. 

He’d spent so long thinking he might never age, that he’d stayed small for years. Barely looking older than fourteen as he’d headed for his twentieth birthday. It was then he discovered that with enough practice he could alter his Phantom hazmat suit. It was redesigned, changing as he had. He’d mentally grown over the years, his title of King only adding to his development. 

When he changed his ghostly appearance, he realized he could age to match how he felt. He could finally look like the young adult he was. That had had side effects on his living half. The growth spurts had been nearly painful, but within six months he’d change from a young teen to a young adult. 

It had been exciting, but excruciating enough that he hadn’t wanted to change his appearance so abruptly again. Changes would be slower next time, but he was unsure if he could go backwards in his living appearance.

All the same, at least he looked more like an adult. He could live as much as he was able. 

His identity reveal with his parents hadn’t exactly gone badly, but it hadn’t gone well either. Jack and Maddie had tried to accept him, but they simply couldn’t. They couldn’t look at him, and while he didn’t end up on their laboratory table, they simply pretended he didn’t exist. It hurt at the time, but he still had his sister. He had Sam and Tucker and Ellie and Val. 

Danny had moved out and for several years had pretended to be normal. It had been nice, until it had gotten boring. Danny split his time between the living and the dead, taking his role as king more seriously in the Infinite Realm over time. It got harder for him to return as his friends aged and he stayed the same. Ellie understood better how he felt, but her wanderlust kept her moving. 

He checked in often over the years, but he’d still be both delighted, and devastated the day Jazz strolled into his lair with a smile and a hello. She looked younger than she’d been in decades and Danny had clung to her and sobbed. She was here! Safe! It was wonderful. She was dead. Jazz had been old and had left behind children and grandchildren. That didn't make it easier on either of them, but they had each other.

Tucker had been next and he was torn between just hanging out in the Infinite Realm or being reincarnated again. For ages, he and Danny had just hung out and caught up, right back to being the best of friends. 

Val had followed some years later, but she had been preparing for this more than the rest of them. Her ghostly form had returned to her the Red Huntress moniker and she couldn’t be more thrilled. She wasted no time traveling with Ellie. 

Sam was the one Danny hadn’t yet been reunited with in the Infinite Realm. She was pushing a hundred, and had become the reigning ‘grandma Ida’ figure in the lives of her grandchildren and great grandchildren. Danny envied her for that. She was so supportive when their parents hadn’t been for them. 

Danny drifted off in his thoughts as he pondered his next dinner date. He was excited for a home cooked meal, but he was quietly thrilled to spend more time with Tim. He’d been neglecting a part of himself since Jazz had died and it showed. His sister was terribly excited he’d made a new friend after so long. 

When he felt the pull of a summons, Danny listened carefully, relieved to hear Tim’s voice. He’d been getting anxious just waiting around and the day had finally come. He pulled himself from the portal, turning from Phantom to Danny and tugging nervously at his sweater. He didn’t really have many nice or formal human clothes since everything in the Infinite Realm was often done in his royal regalia. 

He’d tried to look nice though. Dora had braided his hair for him in some intricate pattern and his normal NASA hoodie had been traded out for a new black hoodie gifted to him by Sam. It was over top a navy blue sweater. He probably didn’t need both but he liked to have the option of a hood. 

He wore his nicer pair of jeans and sneakers too. Honestly, if he was going to be spending time in a living dimension again, he was going to need to go shopping. 

Danny opted to appear just outside the structure he was summoned from. It felt more polite somehow to knock on the manor’s door. Sam would have loved this place. 

It only took seconds but Tim pulled the door open swiftly, he was nearly out of breath but he smiled bashfully when he greeted Danny. 

“Hey Danny.” 

“Hey,” Danny said with an awkward smile. “Thought i’d..uh, politely knock?” He shoved his hands in his pockets. He somewhat noticed that his normal clothes weren't hanging off him the way they had been. At least he’d been putting on a little weight having lunches with Tim.

Tim returned his smile and gestured for him to come in. “And it was thoughtful.” 

Tim looked nice, the way he always did. His button down looked brand new and someone had obviously ironed his pants and he didn’t wear shoes, just dark socks. It was the kind of casual touch that proved he lived there. 

“I’m sorry.” Danny muttered, voice his usual low cadence. He didn’t like using his aura or ‘kingly voice’ around people when he didn’t have to. He had nothing to prove. “I know it’s a holiday but i don’t really have much in the way of living human clothes anymore.” 

“Hey. No.” Tim said immediately, head whipping around to look at Danny again. “Absolutely no one in this house is worried about that. If you are, i have an entire closet you can pick through to find something else but it’s not necessary. The only thing we requested was you. You look great.” 

Danny rubbed his arm and despite his unease, smiled. It was almost funny the way Tim tracked the movement with his eyes. His feelings on the matter were genuine. Danny’s attire didn’t matter to him. “If you’re sure. I didn’t want to come off as ungrateful when you’ve invited me into your home.” 

“Impossible.” Tim said, stepping further inside with Danny beside him. “I assure you, once the pictures have been taken, everyone will be throwing the dress clothes to the side.” 

“Pictures?” 

“Master Timothy.” An older man was approaching from the dining room. “I trust you haven’t been rude to our guest.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Alfred.” Tim smiled, entering into some kind of familiar song and dance. “He usually likes to keep his outer jacket so i didn’t ask to take it to hang up for him." 

It made Danny smile when he’d connected the pieces. He’d heard a few stories about Alfred over the last few months. Most of them from Tim himself but Dick had happily told a couple. The man took his job very seriously. It almost reminded him of Fright Knight. 

“Um..” Danny mumbled, sounding like he didn’t know where to start. Did he introduce himself? He’d gotten better at these kinds of things when ghosts were involved. The living almost baffled him now. 

Tim took over. “Danny his is Alfred, technically he’s the butler and caretaker of Wayne Manor, but his real job is caretaker and grandfather to every brat that lives here who doesn’t deserve him.” 

That had the corners of Danny’s lips tipping up even as Alfred quirked a brow at the rather bold comment. 

“Alfred, this is my friend Danny. This will be his first Thanksgiving in many years.” 

Alfred offered a polite bow, a bend at his waist that looked beautifully formal. “We’re so pleased you could join us, Your Majesty.” 

“Oh no. Danny. Danny’s fine.” He didn’t miss the way Tim raised a brow, but Danny wasn’t surprised. It might have been the first time Tim had seen Danny anything close to flustered. “The Majesty thing is kind of stuffy and this is your home that i was invited into.” 

“If you insist, Master Daniel. I hope you have come hungry.” 

Danny knew his smile was weak. “Starving. Tim and Dick both promised this would be the meal of my life. Unlife?” He shook his head and cleared his throat. “And if you don’t mind, i have a little trauma with the name Daniel. I’d really prefer Danny or Phantom if you’d rather.” 

Tim’s eyes narrowed briefly and Danny knew he was already organizing dozens of questions. Now however, wasn’t the time to ask them. That didn’t mean he wasn’t making several mental notes. 

Alfred also also caught the quiver in his tone and didn’t press the matter if the shift in his emotions were anything to go off of. “Master Danny is it.” Alfred continued seamlessly, voice pleasant. “We’re truly happy to have you. I have been asking about your attendance at dinner for some time.” 

Tim sighed loudly, a touch more dramatic than usual but Danny was happy to see Tim someplace he could be so informal. “Okay, that was my bad. I was having fun going out with you and any dinner here you attended would suddenly be a family dinner.” 

“Everyone is curious?” Danny assumed. 

“Incredibly.” 

“Now Master Timothy, it is impolite to keep your guest hovering around the door. Dinner is nearly ready.” Alfred said. “Please be the proper host.” 

“Yes, Alfred.” 

Danny fiddled with the sleeve of his hoodie briefly. “I’d…offer to help but i’m a disaster in the kitchen. At least i was. I’m also afraid of reanimating food during the cooking process so i think i’ll stay well out of the way.” 

Alfred looked faintly surprised but he focused on the first part of the sentence. “It was still very kind of you to offer. I have everything well in hand.” 

Tim turned to look at Danny. “I know you’ve explained this to me before, but it’s crazy that you had to fight your food.” Saying that Danny had ‘explained’ that was over stating things, and they both knew it. Danny had said the only foods he didn’t like were the ones that bit back and Tim had taken him at his word. 

“It can be a problem.” Danny mused. He’d always been useless in the kitchen but after he’d moved out of his parents home, it became a chore he didn’t care for. His ectoplasm was so strong and it was bound to affect his environment over time. “You know, that might be why i stopped bothering to eat for a while. It’s not instantaneous or anything but long term exposure around me would reanimate whatever’s in the fridge.”

“Well, that’s one mystery solved.” Tim said, linking his arms with Danny’s to lead him to one of the more casual livingrooms at Alfred’s insistence. 

“Maybe?” Danny offered, distracted by looking around the manor. It was like a blast to his past only more. It was greater than the house Sam had grown up in, and far more tasteful than anything Vlad had. 

It was downright artistic. He’d seen enough ghostly lairs to see old mixing in with modern. The Wayne manor was stunning. 

The manor was equal parts old glamour and modern relic that was lovingly cared for by the occupants that lived there. The brilliant chandeliers and the beautifully carved staircase were more than simply eye-catching. The artwork was actually pleasing.

“You okay?” Tim asked quietly, biting at his lip worriedly. He was anxious as if afraid something about the manor had upset him. His phone was in his hand and Danny could tell he was texting one handed. Tucker could do similar feats. 

“I’m fine. I was looking at the pictures.” He nodded his head to where many framed photographs were displayed.  

“We’re glad you liked them!” Dick all but materialized by their sides and Danny couldn’t help but laugh. He was so light on his feet. “Tim took those!” 

Danny’s brows shot up in surprise. “Really?” 

Dick hummed his affirmative. “Yep, he’s a for real photographer.” 

Tim’s ears went pink. “It’s just a hobby.” 

Danny wandered closer to one of the frames, pulling Tim along with him by their linked arms. He smiled at the aerial view of Gotham. It was beautiful. “You have a lot of talent.” 

“Uh, yes. Thanks.” Tim muttered, throwing a scowl at his older brother who grinned, completely unrepentant. Not for the first time, Danny was reminded of Ellie whenever Dick was around. He cared so deeply, but that didn’t stop him from being a mischievous little imp. 

“I’d love to see more.” Danny said. “After dinner maybe?”

There was a light to Tim’s eyes at the notion. Danny wondered if it was less a hobby and something a little closer to a living obsession. Those were probably good to nurture. “If you want. Bruce has hung up a bunch of them but i have, you know, a portfolio.” 

“I’d love to see.” Danny repeated quietly. 

Dick glanced between them, his own mirth so obvious that Danny didn’t need empathy to feel it. “C’mon you two. It won’t be long before dinner’s ready and we still need to take the customary pictures.” 

“Pictures?” Danny repeated, realizing that Tim hadn’t answered him before. 

Tim nodded and gestured for Danny to follow him and Dick. “Thanksgiving is technically in two days, but we’ll be out patrolling then so we celebrate early.” 

“Our family’s kind of well known though.” Dick offered. 

Danny snorted. “The joys of a double life.” 

“Exactly.” Tim said. “We’ll take pictures tonight and each of us will post a couple on the right day to give ourselves alibi’s. It’s fairly simple.” 

Danny would have loved to have had the luxury back in the day. It was hard living with some of your biggest critics. “How much of your family will be coming?” 

“Most of it.” Dick said. 

“Probably.” Tim echoed, still looking a little worried about how the evening would go. Danny had seen many of Tim’s siblings and met a few of them. He wasn’t really worried, but was charmed that Tim was. 

Tim wanted the dinner to go seamlessly. Danny hoped he could help that along without his Fenton luck getting in the way.

[jackiesnats]

Our Own Summer

pairing: sam carpenter x reader; past quinn bailey x reader

warnings: camp counselor au, mean dom sam, daddy kink, rough sex, rough face fucking, rimming, finger sucking, face slapping, reader is a bit of a little shit, tara & reader friendship, strapon use, begging, verbal degradation, sam's been waiting to do this for awhile-, jealous!sam, she’s a bit toxic but she takes accountability.

summary: sam always found you annoying, but now that you were working as a counselor at the same camp as Sam, she finds you to be even worse.

edited by my lovely girlfriend @specialinterestshows 🥰🩵

word count: 10.3k

“Welcome! I’m Sam, and I’m the head counselor here at Camp Crystal Lake. We’re going to have a few days before the campers get here, so that will give you some time to learn the layout and ask for help with whatever you need. Does anyone have any questions for me right now?” Sam asked, looking around at the new and some returning counselors. You smirked as her eyes locked on yours, holding eye contact with you for a few seconds before shaking her head.

You could tell she was annoyed by your presence, having been at her house enough times to know how she acted when she was trying to pretend you weren’t getting on her nerves. Now that you were working at the camp she was in charge of for the whole summer, you were only going to make things worse.

“Dude, stop eye-fucking my sister,” Tara whispered as Sam started to answer your new coworkers’ questions.

“What? I- I wasn’t eye-fucking nobody, but especially not your sister,” you said, biting your lip as you realized that wasn’t believable.

Tara rolled her eyes, “Yeah sure.”

“Honest!” you try to argue, but Tara wasn’t having it.

You both knew you had a crush on her older sister since the moment you and Tara became friends. There were many sleepovers the two of you had had while Sam watched you, while her family was gone. Tara and you had been friends since the seventh grade and now that the two of you were adults, you wished Sam felt the same way towards you.

Since you didn’t think she would ever feel that way, annoying the fuck out of her was good enough. Sam didn’t own the camp, so she couldn’t fire you - in your mind that meant you were able to push her buttons more than usual. Of course, you never did it in front of Tara, considering she knew about your crush on her older sister for the longest time.

“(Your Name),” Sam called out, causing you to jump, “Come here.”

You did as you were told, getting closer to her as the counselors moved to get their stuff. You had zoned out, thinking about Sam so much that you didn’t realize she was handing things out to everyone.

As soon as you walked up to her, she smirked. “Good girl. Here’s your supplies for your campers when they get here. You’ll be in cabin two.”

You looked down at the ground, eyes widening as you noticed the black boots Sam was wearing. Between being called a good girl and seeing her boots, all you could think about was grinding against them while she praised you.

Shaking the thoughts of your head, you sighed, crossing your arms, “Samantha.”

Sam glared at you, “Stop calling me that.”

Bringing your hand up to your chin, you tapped it with one finger playfully, “Mm, no.”

You grabbed your stuff and walked away before she could say anything. Without looking at Sam, you knew she was still focused on you.

“Are you done doing that for today? It’s bad enough we’re going to be here all summer,” Tara complained as she sat her stuff down to get a drink of water from her bottle. “Instead of annoying her and poking the bear, why don’t you just make a move?”

You gave Tara a surprised look, “Make a move? What, so she can laugh at me and say no? I’d rather keep annoying her.”

Tara shook her head, “How do you know she would laugh at you?”

“She just would,” you sighed, “Would you like some help carrying your stuff to your cabin?”

“I’ve got it,” Tara said, picking her stuff back up. “Plus, Sam put me in cabin thirteen which makes no sense. What cabin are you in? I didn’t hear her when she said it.”

“Cabin two.”

Tara nodded, “You do realize Sam is in cabin one, yeah?”

“I figured, what about it?” you asked, unsure as to why Tara would bring it up. It didn’t matter to you if Sam was in cabin one or cabin twelve, you were going to annoy her just as much.

“You do realize that cabin one and cabin two are connected?” Tara informed you.

“Oh? I- well, I mean that’s fine, I’m confused as to why you’re pointing it out, to be honest.”

Tara sighed. “I just… I know you like to annoy her and we’re best friends, but she’s my sister.”

You gave her an odd look, unsure of what she was getting at. Yeah, you annoyed Sam a lot, but you genuinely did like her. “What are you trying to say?”

Tara got a bit closer to you. “I just don’t want to see her, or you, hurt.”

“Tara,” you started, “Me hurting her? I would never.”

Tara’s facial expression was unreadable when she spoke up again, “Then try not to annoy her more than what you already do. I don’t think you would intentionally hurt her, but after Richie… she puts up a big front.”

“Do you know something I don’t?” you questioned.

Tara tried her best to hide the smirk that was threatening to show, and if it was anyone else, she would be able to get away with it. Not you though, you knew the moment you asked her that she was fighting the urge to smirk.

“Got to go get set up, talk to you later,” Tara said, chuckling as she walked away.

You stood there for a few more minutes, trying to decipher what Tara was trying to get at, but you soon let it go - for now - as you headed towards cabin number two. You decided you were going to take a nap once you had your clothes and such all put away. You had a few days before your busy summer started and getting familiar with the camp could wait. Sleep could not, especially when all you could think about Sam – as well as what Tara was saying. Did Sam feel the same? Or did she know that Sam did not feel the same? You loved Tara like the sister you never had, but sometimes you wished she wasn’t so secretive when it came to important things.

“Hey, (Your Name), wait up!” a voice called out to you, causing you to stop in your tracks. You turned around, a smile spread across your face as both Chad and Mindy rushed towards you. You dropped your bags as soon as they got close enough to hug you. Chad went first, hugging you tightly and then as soon as he let go of you, Mindy gave you an even tighter hug.

“How have you been, babe?” Mindy asked as she let go of you.

“Pretty good, I’ve just been busy working and writing the book I started a bit ago,” you smiled. “How about you?”

“You still at that one place?” Chad asked.

“I’ve been good, movie theater has been doing good, I was surprised that they let me have the whole month off to do this,” Mindy said.

“I’m glad! And yeah, I’m still at that one job,” you groaned, “But honestly, I might quit when I go back home.”

“I don’t blame you, really,” Mindy said. “Well, if there’s a killer out in the woods with us and you die, then you wouldn’t have to quit!”

Both you and Chad glared at her.

“You know Sam wouldn’t let anything happen to (Your Name), the killer would be dead so fast,” Chad laughed.

Mindy hit his arm hard, glaring at him while you looked at both with confusion written all over your face. You now wondered if everyone knew something that you had no clue about. Tara was one thing – she’s Sam’s sister after all – but the twins? You were missing something and as much as you had your suspicions on what it was, you didn’t want to guess and end up wrong; you wouldn’t be able to look Sam or any of your friends in the eyes after that.

“Ow! What did you do that for?!” he whimpered, rubbing his arm.

“Ignore what he’s saying, he knows nothing,” Mindy rolled her eyes.

You sighed, wanting this conversation to end. You loved them, but all you really needed was to lay down and try and forget about the day. Looking at your watch and then back at the twins, you spoke up again, “Hey, I’ll talk to you guys in a bit, I have a bit of a headache and I’m going to be laying down for a few hours.”

Mindy and Chad said their goodbyes before they turned around. You had assumed they had already gone to the cabins they were staying in, since they didn’t have any of their stuff with them when they came up to you.

As soon as you got to the cabin, you dropped your bag on the floor before sitting on the nearest bottom bunk. You felt bad for lying to Chad and Mindy, but you were so overstimulated from everything going on so far. You got up once more to grab your pillow from your bag before laying down.

You awoke when a door was slammed shut. “What?! What's going on?” you shouted, sitting up quickly.

“You do realize there’s a room in between the cabins for the counselors to sleep and live in right?” Sam asked.

Her arms were crossed and you could tell she was annoyed. Unfortunately this time you weren’t even trying to annoy her, so it wasn’t fun for you.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

You cursed yourself for getting so shy when you were overstimulated. You looked down at the ground, refusing to even look at her.

“Oh,” Sam sighed. “You weren’t doing this to annoy me, were you?”

You shook your head, eyes still glued to the floor. The room was filled with an uncomfortable silence, but before you could say anything, Sam came up to you. Placing a hand on your shoulder, she rubbed it gently before sitting next to you.

“I didn’t mean to snap at you about it. Let me help you carry your bags to the room I was talking about, okay?” Sam spoke softly.

You nodded. “Okay.”

You stood up at the same time Sam did. You grabbed your backpack and your pillow while Sam grabbed your duffle bag.

“How did you carry this all the way here? You should have asked me for some help,” Sam sighed, grabbing the bag.

You followed her into the counselor’s room, setting your stuff down and she spoke up and pointed to the bed that was empty. “This is your bed, and over there is where you can put your clothes.”

“Thank you, S- Sam,” you said, finally making eye contact with her, “I appreciate it.”

“It’s no problem, really. We’re going to be here the entire summer, so I’d rather help you out now so I’m not worried about you the rest of the summer,” Sam explained herself, which made your heart drop.

A part of you wanted her to worry about you - attention from her was something you’d always craved. Now was no different from back then, other than the fact that you were an adult now.

“You have a point,” you sighed. “Is Quinn working here this summer?”

Sam gave you a dirty look. “Why? I mean, yes, but why?”

“Because I haven’t seen her in a while? We’re friends?” you said, unsure as to why she was asking that.

Quinn and you had dated for a short time, and although things didn’t work out well between the two of you, you were still really good friends. You figured she was just worried that you’d run back to Quinn after spending countless nights at Tara and her house after she had left you randomly. You were over the redhead, finally realizing that your crush on Sam was still present once you got over your first real heartbreak.

“Mhm,” Sam hummed, seeming to accept your response. “Anyway, I’m going to make sure everyone is settled in and that they don’t need my help. You can take a nap because I can tell you’re tired, and I won’t come in here as loud as I just did.”

“Thank you so much.”

Sam walked out with her clipboard and sunglasses and as soon as you knew she was gone, you put your things away in the drawers. Grabbing your stuffed animal, you put it at the head of your bed before you laid down.

You couldn’t help but think about how good Sam looked in her tank top. With her muscles on display, all you could think about was her pinning you down on the bed and fucking you over and over while you begged her to keep going.

You sat up and grabbed your MP3 player from your backpack before putting your headphones in. Once you were all situated, you laid back down with music blaring in your ears. You took a deep breath, slipping your hand into your shorts. You closed your eyes, moaning when you felt how wet you were through your underwear.

You ran your fingertips lightly against yourself, enjoying how good it felt. “Fuck, Sam, please don’t tease me,” you whimpered, unaware that Sam had already ducked back in to get her water bottle. She wasn’t trying to look, especially since you weren’t aware that she was there - that is, until she heard you moan out her name.

Finally, after a few minutes of teasing yourself through your underwear, you pushed your hand into them. Rubbing your clit lightly, you imagined Sam touching you whenever she wanted to.

“Please, Sam,” you moaned, “I’m yours.”

You sped up your movements, finally bringing a finger down to your entrance. You took a deep breath, trying to spread your legs, but your shorts weren’t allowing you to. Pulling your hand out of your pants, you quickly pulled them down, followed by your underwear. Kicking them off just as Mascara by Deftones started to play.

You spread your legs, bringing your hand back down to your pussy. You kept your eyes closed as you slid a finger inside yourself. You would normally work yourself up a bit more, but you were already so wet, all you wanted was to make yourself come a few times before Sam got back. The last thing you wanted was for her to see you like this, moaning her name when you weren’t even sure if she liked you. The last thing you needed was to make things awkward for the both of you the whole summer.

You added a second finger, curling them as you began to fuck yourself. “Faster, please, Daddy. Please, wan’ to come for you,” you cried out. You opened your eyes as you heard someone come up the stairs, pulling your hand out and pulling your pants and underwear up as quickly as you could.

Sam opened cabin one’s door and you used that time to make it look like you weren’t doing anything. When she opened the door to the counselor’s room, you opened the book you had brought, wanting her to not question what you had been doing while she was away. You turned your MP3 player off and set it on the nightstand.

“We’re going to be having dinner around seven-thirty, so you’ve got a few hours of free time to explore,” Sam informed you, smiling softly.

“I mean, if we have a few days before the campers even show up, I can explore tomorrow,” you sighed. “I’m so exhausted.”

Sam smirked, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, I bet.”

You gave her a confused look, but deep down your heart had just dropped. “Wh- What’s that supposed to mean, Samantha?”

You knew she hated it when you called her that, so you did, trying to get her to think that everything was okay. Sam’s smirk turned into a frown as she stood there – her eyes burning into you. You turned your head, realizing she was still staring at you and it made you nervous.

“Are you going to be a brat this whole summer, (Your Name)?” Sam asked, getting closer to you.

“What? I’m not being a brat?” You weren’t sure where this was coming from – for years when you annoyed Sam and pushed her buttons, she would just ignore you or make a petty comment back to you. But here she was, snapping at you.

“Stand up,” was all Sam said, but she gave you no room to not listen. She grabbed you by the arm, forcing you to stand up. “We’re going to get something straight here. You will behave this summer or you will not get anything from me, do you understand me?”

You nodded, getting the feeling as if Sam didn’t want you to talk at the moment.

“That means if I ask you to do something or anything, you will not call me Samantha, you will not talk back and for the record, between the two of us – you will not touch that pretty little pussy without my permission again. Got it?” Sam snapped.

You nodded in understanding, but that wasn’t good enough for Sam. Grabbing you by the throat, she squeezed lightly, before saying, “You can speak now, puppy.”

“Y-Yes, Sam, I got it,” you swallowed, licking your lips.

“Now, for years you’ve been annoying me with little things, poking the bear and then backing away, and for years I’ve been allowing you to do so. At first, I thought maybe you didn’t like me, but that wasn’t true because Tara would have dropped you the moment you said something to her… Then I got to thinking that maybe it was a crush you had and I had to make myself not believe that, because why would you have a crush on me? A few people told me you had feelings for me, but I couldn’t get myself to believe it… until today when you thought I wasn’t here, and you were masturbating. Granted, I had come back for my water bottle, and I was going to leave to give you some space and the privacy you needed,” Sam paused, getting closer to your face. You felt your cheeks heat up, hating how shy she was making you feel. “But then you started to moan my name, and I knew that this wasn’t just a one-sided thing, because if I didn’t have feelings for someone, I sure as hell wouldn’t be moaning their name. Am I wrong?”

“N- No, you’re not wrong,” you whispered, not wanting to keep her waiting for an answer from you.

“Good girl. See? It’s so much better when you behave, don’t you agree?” Sam asked.

“Yes, Sam,” you licked your lips.

“Now that we've discussed that part, tell me what you were thinking about when you were touching yourself,” Sam said, letting go of your neck to sit on her bed. She looked at you, waiting for your answer. “Well? Don’t keep me waiting. Tell me. Now.”

“You using me however you want while we’re here. Also obviously after the summer. I wanna be yours,” you admitted, keeping your eyes down onto the ground.

“Eyes on me, you look away and you’ll be going to bed with nothing but a sore ass and frustration,” Sam threatened, smirking as you shot your head up instantly without any hesitation.

“Good girl! Such a good girl,” Sam praised.

On instinct, you squeezed your legs shut, the ache between them was growing stronger. You weren’t sure how much of it you could take. Sam was actually into you, and although you were completely clueless, the more you thought about it, the more you knew you should have seen it. Between all the times Tara would smirk at Sam when she’d refuse to give you eye contact. Or how Sam would put up with you for the longest time when she could have easily told Tara to cut you off. Their relationship was extremely close, and you knew for a fact Tara would end your friendship if Sam didn’t like you.

“Aw, do you like being praised, baby?” Sam hummed, mocking you a bit to see how you’d reacted.

You bit your lip, trying to contain the moan that was fighting to come out. Her tone of voice and facial expression was not helping the ache between your legs and you needed her now.

“Please,” you whimpered, watching as Sam grabbed her backpack that had been on the floor. “I don’t think I can take any more. M’need you now, Daddy.”

Sam stopped her movements, taking a deep breath and you knew the effect you had on her. You tried your best to contain the smirk that was forming - not wanting to risk not getting anything from Sam. One thing you always knew about her: she always kept her word.

“You need me now, yeah?” Sam teased, bringing her hands to her belt buckle. “How do you need me?”

“Want you inside of me, want you to fuck me as hard as you can for all the times I’ve annoyed you. Please, Daddy. I can’t wait anymore, I’ll do anything,” you begged, hoping Sam would give in and give you what you needed.

Sam sighed, standing up from her seat to show you that her belt was unbuckled. She sat down next to you and you turned to face her.

“Yeah? You’ll do anything?” Sam questioned.

You nodded, watching Sam’s hand come up to you. “Suck” was all Sam said, bringing two fingers up to your mouth. You wrapped your lips around the digits, closing your eyes as you focused on getting them wet.

“Mm,” Sam hummed. “I bet you’d be so good at sucking cock huh?”

You smiled with her fingers still in your mouth, flinching a little as Sam wrapped her free hand around your throat. You continued to suck on her fingers, running your tongue through them.

“God I want you on my cock so bad,” Sam sighed, squeezing your throat lightly. “I brought one with me just in case, didn’t know you’d be this easy, but I kind of love that about you. You’re a whore, just a set of holes waiting to be filled by anyone.”

You shook your head as best as you could, trying to say “no,” but with her fingers in your mouth it was too hard to do so.

Sam pulled them out of your mouth before asking, “What was that?”

You took a deep breath, “N-Not anyone, just you. Want you to be the only one to fill my holes. Please, please just… please fuck me. I want you.”

“Aw, but I thought you needed me, baby?” Sam teased, smiling as you whined.

“I do need you!” you cried out, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes.

“But you’re so pretty when you’re all desperate for me, I think I’m going to keep you like this for a while. Now stand up and get your shoes on, we’re going to explore the camp so you know it by heart before the campers get here.” Sam stood up, a smile on her face as she made her way to the bathroom to wash her hands.

You sat there, trying your best to catch your breath and calm down before you could get up. You were stunned - unsure as to why Sam wanted to keep you waiting, but you knew you couldn’t argue with her.

You stood up slowly, grabbing your shoes as you tried not to think about Sam’s fingers inside of you. They felt good in your mouth and you knew they were going to feel so good when they were in your pussy. But for now, you kept quiet, slipping on your shoes while Sam grabbed her clipboard and water bottle.

“I’m ready,” you said, grabbing your own water bottle. The last thing you needed was to be dehydrated, especially in this heat.

“Good girl,” Sam praised, causing you to bite your lip. You wish she had just fucked you - until she would, you were going to try and be on your best behavior. “If you’re good for the rest of the day, after dinner I’ll fuck you.”

“You promise?” you asked, eyes wide as the two of you made your way through the cabin.

“I promise,” Sam said, “And I will keep my promise, as long as you keep yours to be a good girl and behave.”

When the two of you left the cabin, you ran into Quinn for the first time in a full year. She stopped the two of you, smiling at Sam before pulling you into a hug.

“Hey, (Your Name), how’s it going? I haven’t seen you in a bit, you look so good!” Quinn said, finally letting you go. You were too busy focusing on Quinn to notice the glare Sam was giving you.

“We should hang out soon, after the summer is over. Maybe catch up with dinner and a movie?” you suggest.

“I’d love that! Alright, I’m gonna go take a walk around the whole camp before dinner, I’ll see you two then!” Quinn said as she walked in the opposite direction that Sam and you were going.

“You realize you just asked her on a date, (Your Name)?” Sam asked as the two of you continued to walk.

“I- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” you said, realizing that you had fucked up. Quinn was your ex-girlfriend, but she was still your friend. So in your mind, you thought you were just asking her to hanging out like friends do.

“I’m not upset with you,” Sam reassured you. “I know how you are sometimes, so I know you didn’t mean it like that.”

You looked at her. “But?”

“But it also means that I get to remind you that you belong to me,” Sam hummed.

”Oh,” you gasped, her words going straight to your pussy. You knew it wouldn’t have affected you that much if she hadn’t just worked you up before denying you even a single touch. At this point, you thought if Sam just touched you once you would come.

Sam ignored you as the two of you made your way around the corner. You sighed, putting your hands in your pocket, slightly jumping when Sam spoke up.

“So, what are you into?” she asked. Your cheeks heated up in embarrassment - you weren’t expecting her to ask you right there and then. You stayed quiet for a few minutes as the two of you continued to walk.

“Well,” you paused, taking a deep breath, “I haven’t done too much, but I know I like being choked, slapped, and spanked. I also like being face fucked and… well… I like anal, as well as being degraded.”

Sam smirked, looking down at the ground. “That’s very good to know. I’m into those things as a domme, and a lot more that I would love to try with you, if you want to. Doesn’t have to be now or during the summer; you’re more than welcome to come over. Even if Tara isn’t home, okay? I know this is a lot to take in and I do really like you, so I would love to spend time with you outside of sexual things too.”

You nodded, “Thank you for letting me know.”

Sam took your hand in hers, “I’ve liked you for a long time and I know we can’t do anything here, but I want you to know that I really do care about you…”

“I know you do, so why are you saying all of this?” you asked.

Sam pulled her hand away, bringing it up to her forehead to wipe the sweat. She turned to look at you once more and said, with a straight face, “Oh, because I plan on fucking you as if I fucking hate you, and I want to make sure that you know that I really do like you.”

Your eyes widened, quickly turning your head so Sam couldn’t see the look on your face. You knew you shouldn’t have been surprised, and yet, here you were.

“What?” Sam asked, bringing you out of your thoughts.

“I- nothing, just-“ you began, but she cut you off.

“Oh I know what it is,” Sam hummed. Her confidence was making things worse for the ache between your legs. “You love the idea of me using you roughly, making you feel as if all you’re good for is being a set of holes for me. But after, you can’t wait for me to hold and cuddle you and praise you for being such a good girl for me. Am I wrong?”

You shook your head, whispering, “No, you’re not wrong at all.”

You stopped walking, trying to catch your breath as you took a drink from your own water bottle. Dinner needed to get here sooner; you were hoping that after that, she would give you what you wanted.

“Do you need to sit down? We can rest for a bit if you need to,” Sam said, watching as you nodded.

She helped you sit down on the ground and then sat down next to you. Sam took a drink from her water bottle and when she sat it down, she turned to you.

“Pull your shorts down,” Sam said, watching as you nervously looked around. The two of you were tucked into a corner and even though no one could see you, you were terrified that someone might walk by. Especially Tara.

Although Tara seemed to want the two of you to be together, you were worried that she would be angry if she caught the two of you fucking. It was a silly thought, really, but as Sam tugged at the waistband of your shorts, you focused back on her instead of your anxieties.

“What… what if someone catches us?” you asked, still nervous.

”No one is going to catch us. And even if they did, I would make sure they didn’t say anything to anyone else. Do you trust me, (Your Name)?” Sam asked.

You nodded, “Of course, Sam.”

“Then pull your shorts and underwear down and I’ll give you a little something to keep you going until after dinner,” Sam said.

You did as you were told, pulling both down as you refused to look at Sam. When they were around your ankles, she pushed your legs apart, giving you a look to silently tell you to keep them open. You bit your lip as she wasted no time, bringing her hand between your legs.

“God, you’re so fucking wet. And it’s all for me, yeah?” Sam asked, even though she knew the answer to it.

“Y- Yes, only for you, Sam,” you whimpered as she rubbed at your clit as softly as she could. She was still teasing you, but you were just glad she was touching you.

“When I’m fucking you, you’re to call me ‘Daddy,’ understood?” she asked, pulling her hand away from you.

“Please-“ you began just before Sam spat on her fingers, bringing her hand back to your pussy.

Sam rubbed faster this time, not giving you a chance to ask for more when she slipped a single finger into you. She curled it, fucking it in and out of you. You bit your lip, trying to focus on not coming so soon - having been worked up for a while, you expected it, but you were still embarrassed by how close you already were. Sam noticed, still her finger inside of you mid-thrust.

“You’re so pathetic,” Sam laughed, slipping in a second finger, “You’re already so close and I’ve barely touched you… makes me want to keep you waiting even more.”

“No!” you cried out, “Please, Daddy, please don’t stop. I can’t take anymore teasing. Please.”

Sam shook her head, pulling her fingers out of you. You watched as she brought them to her face, taking both into her mouth. You let out a whimper as she sucked on her own fingers, humming at how good you tasted.

When she pulled them out of her mouth, Sam licked her lips. “You’ll take what I give you because I’m giving it to you. You’ll be a good girl and take it all, because that’ll make me happy. And you want to make me happy, don’t you?”

You nodded, “Yes, Daddy, I do… but-“

“No buts,” Sam cut you off rather quickly.

You sighed, pulling your pants back up. Before you could stand up, Sam stopped you.

“Sam,” you whined, your eyes widened when she grabbed your forearm, “Please stop teasing me.”

Sam’s smile grew wide, “No, I don’t think I will, baby. It’s too much fun.”

You rolled your eyes, frustrated with how close you were. You were desperate and you knew you weren’t going to be able to make it through dinner, let alone wait until tonight. Sam let go of your arm so she could stand. She stuck her hand out to help you up and you took it with no hesitation, despite how desperate you were. A part of you thought she was just doing all of this to fuck with you, and that at the end of the night, she was going to tell you that she had no feelings for you at all.

“Thank you,” you said, picking your water bottle up off the ground. You took a few sips before the two of you continued to walk.

”That building with the red roof is the arts and crafts room. It’s a single room that they used to use for storage, but decided it would be a better fit for something else with how big it is,” Sam pointed out. When you nodded, she continued. “The other building next to it is empty and is never used. We’re also not allowed to use it, but I go in there sometimes at night when I want some alone time to think.”

”It seems like a good spot to clear your head after a stressful day,” you agreed.

Sam seemed ready to say something else when Chad and Tara caught up with the two of you.

“Hey Sam!” Chad smiled, pulling her into a hug, “I see you two are getting along.”

You looked down at the ground in embarrassment, knowing that if Tara could see your face then and there, she would know something was up. The last thing you needed was for Tara to ask you a bunch of questions, because at the end of the day, you were horrible at hiding things from her. She was good at getting information out of you and you were sure she was going to want to know what was going on between you and Sam.

”Yeah, we had a bit of a talk and we’re now on the same page,” Sam said.

You could hear the smirk in her voice without even having to look at Sam, and you knew she was teasing you. You looked up at Tara, instantly regretting it when she gave you a knowing look. I’m so fucked, you thought to yourself as Chad nodded and went on to talk with Sam some more as the four of you began to walk together. You knew that the moment Tara got you alone, she was going to ask you what Sam meant by “being on the same page.”

Did Sam do it on purpose, to make it so you had to wait even longer? Or did she not mean for it to happen? You couldn’t really believe that she didn’t mean to do it, because she knew how her sister was.

”I didn’t realize how hot this summer was going to be,” you complained.

You were relieved that the building you had assumed to be the dining hall was approaching. You wanted to sit down in some air conditioning, and this was your chance to get it before dinner.

”Well, I’m gonna go and get changed for dinner, Tara, you coming?” Chad asked.

Tara smiled at him, “No, I think I’m going to stay with Sam and (Your Name), but I’ll see you when it’s dinner time.”

Chad walked away from the three of you. You felt the awkwardness when you all made it to the dining hall, unsure of what to say or if you even wanted to say something in fear that Tara would ask you questions in front of Sam.

“We can hang out here until it’s time for dinner,” Sam said as she opened the door, letting both you and Tara in first before she followed behind.

“The air conditioning feels so nice,” you groaned, sitting down at one of the tables.

“I agree,” Tara nodded.

“You two get comfortable, I’m going to see how the cooks are doing,” Sam said, patting your back before walking away from both Tara and you.

You started to play with your nails, wanting Sam to come back fast. Tara cleared her throat, causing you to jump.

“So I noticed that you and Sam are getting along better, and this is the longest you have gone without annoying the fuck out of her,” Tara commented, taking the seat next to you.

Suddenly you felt as if the walls were closing in on you, the anxiety making it harder to breathe. “Yeah, w- we, uh-“ you began, but she cut you off.

“I know you’re hiding something and that’s okay, I’ll figure it out, don’t worry,” Tara smirked. “I love you, (Your Name), but whatever the two of you have going on, please don’t fuck it up.”

You have her a puzzling look, “Why would I fuck anything up? If, you know, there’s something there… which there isn’t.”

“You’re such a bad liar,” Tara rolled her eyes. “I’m not supposed to say anything, but you are my best friend. Sam… ever since Richie… she’s been different when it comes to dating. Maybe me saying ‘don’t fuck anything up’ is the wrong word choice, so I apologize for that. She… I don’t know how to explain it.”

You looked down at the table, unsure of how to respond to that. You bit your lip, wanting Sam to get back to the two of you faster than she was.

“Please don’t let that be your reason for not trying,” Tara said, and you thought it was because she sensed your anxiety. “Also don’t tell Sam I said anything, she’d kill me.”

You looked up at Tara with a small smile. “You’re right about that.”

You weren’t entirely sure what she meant, but for the time being, you decided not to question anything. You were stuck at Camp Crystal Lake for the whole summer and the last thing you needed was to fuck everything up and have to deal with things being awkward for three months.

Of course, after the first camp week was over with, you could ask to change cabins. Tara would be the most up to doing it, you were sure of it. But you didn’t want that - you had been wanting Sam for years and you weren’t going to ruin your chance just because you wanted to ask questions. You and Tara sat in silence, waiting for Sam to get back. Finally after what felt like a full hour (but was really only about fifteen minutes), Sam appeared again.

“Sorry about that, Quinn and I were talking about a few things,” Sam said, trying to hide the irritation in her voice. You and Tara knew her too well; she was doing such a terrible job.

“Are you okay?” you asked without thinking.

“Yeah. Everything’s fine,” Sam snapped, taking a seat next to Tara instead of you. You knew you shouldn’t have been surprised - she was her sister - but you were a little hurt.

You frowned at Tara before looking back down at your hands. You hated feeling as if you had done something wrong, but you also knew Sam wasn't trying to make you feel that way.

You wished you had your phone so you could distract yourself from the thought of Sam being irritated with you.

“Hey Sam?” Tara asked, causing you to flinch a little.

You refused to look up, not wanting to see Sam glaring at you.

“Yeah?” Sam asked, her voice calmer than it had been.

“You need to lower your tone. (Your Name) was just asking if you’re okay because she cares about you,” Tara snapped, making your eyes widen. You had never heard Tara stand up to Sam like that - especially not on your behalf.

Sam took a deep breath, “I’m sorry, (Your Name), Tara is right. You were just asking out of concern and that’s on me.”

“It’s okay,” you said, finally looking up at her.

“Are you sure?” Sam asked.

For the first time, you saw real concern on her face and it melted your heart. You couldn’t believe that all of this was happening.

“I’m sure,” you nodded, “But please, try not to snap at me again. We just started talking and I want this to continue.”

“I’ll try my best, but I promise you did nothing wrong. Quinn just made a comment and it irritated me. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you when you were just worried,” Sam admitted.

“Thank you.”

Finally, the other counselors flooded in; it was time for dinner. You were relieved, realizing that you were starting to get hungry. You took your place in line and as soon as you got your food, you sat back down at the spot you were in before. You breathed a sigh of relief when Sam sat down next to you.

“Make sure you eat as much as you can,” Sam leaned in and whispered, “You’re going to need all the energy you can get. If you still want me to fuck you, that is.”

You nodded frantically, “I- I still want you to fuck me. More than anything.”

Sam smirked, “More than anything?”

You nodded again, “Yes, Daddy.”

You went straight to eating your food, not wanting to say anything more to Sam, fearing that someone might overhear. When Tara and Chad sat down across from you and Sam, you began talking to Chad about your favorite TV show. Sam stayed quiet, occasionally looking at you while you talked, in awe. You only noticed once Tara started to smirk at you.

When you were done, you excused yourself. Throwing your trash away and returning the tray, you made your way out the door and toward the cabin. You needed to change into something more comfortable, having walked around in the heat for most of the day.

You changed into pajamas and laid down in bed, deciding that you were going to try to take a quick nap before Sam got back to the cabin. Closing your eyes, you pictured how Sam was going to fuck - if she was going to fuck you, at least. You were still worried that she was only playing with your feelings as payback for how much you had annoyed her purposefully over the years. Although, if Tara and Chad both knew something positive, you don’t think they would let you think she was being honest if she wasn’t.

You couldn’t sleep, too excited to see what would happen. Just as you sat up, Sam came into the room. You watched as she sat her water bottle down on the nightstand next to her bed. She pulled her shirt off, revealing the black tank top she had underneath. You licked your lips, the sight of her muscles making you ache to see more.

”I can feel you staring, and if you want something, you need to ask,” Sam said firmly. “I’m not going to hand you anything, baby. You’re going to have to earn it.”

”Sam,” you whined, causing Sam to turn to you.

”Yes?” she responded, a mocking tone in her voice that made goosebumps form on your skin, “What would you like?”

”I…” you trailed off, the words refusing to come out right away.

“Use your words. Or did you forget how to use them? Hm?” Sam teased, getting closer to you. When you looked down at the floor, Sam grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up at her. “Oh I see what’s happening. When that pretty little pussy of yours gets all wet, you get fucking stupid. Is that what it is, pretty baby?”

You closed your eyes, “Yes, Daddy. Can’t think when I’m horny.”

Sam smiled, letting go of your chin. “Good girl. Don’t you worry about having to think anymore - I can do that for you. Now tell Daddy what you want and I’ll give it to you.”

”I want you to fuck me, I’ve been wanting it for so long,” you admitted, “Please, can’t wait any longer.”

Sam moved back to her bed, sitting on the edge while she raked her eyes over your body. “Strip for me.”

You did as you were told, pulling your shirt off and throwing it onto the ground. You then pulled your shorts down, kicking them off you as quickly as you could.

“Stand up and c’mere,” Sam ordered. You did as you were told, getting up quickly and moving towards her.

Sam placed her hands on your hips, turning around so your back was facing her. “You’re so fucking sexy,” Sam hummed, unclasping your bra. “I can’t wait to fucking ruin you.”

Sam hooked her fingers underneath the waistband of your underwear, slowly pulling them down. You bit your lip as you tried to be patient. Sam was taking her time and you hated it. As soon as your underwear was around your ankles, you kicked them off. Without a word, you turned around to face her.

“Did I say you could turn back around?” Sam asked, slapping your thigh hard.

“No, but-“ you began, but Sam cut you off with another slap in the same spot. You whimpered, watching as Sam licked her lips.

“So if I didn’t tell you to turn around, what should you do?” Sam questioned, crossing her arms over her chest as she waited for you to do what you were supposed to do.

You turned back around, your back facing her once more. Sam guided you to move a little bit before she stood up. You turned your head as best as you could, but Sam slapped your ass. “Did I say you could look at me?” she asked.

You turned your head back to look straight ahead, not wanting Sam to drag it out any longer than she had already. You closed your eyes as Sam began to grab your ass - whining when she removed her hands.

“Stay still,” she warned, standing up behind you. She pulled her tanked top off, then her shorts and underwear. “Bend over your bed for me.”

You were a little confused. Was she going to fuck you now? You’d think she would at least take a little time getting you ready. Despite your confusion, you did as you were told, bending over your bed right in front of her.

“Fuck,” Sam breathed, coming up behind you, “I want to fuck your ass so badly, but that can wait for different day.”

“D- Daddy,” you whined as Sam brought her hand down to your pussy.

“What is it?” Sam asked, slipping a single finger inside of you. When you didn’t respond, she spoke again, “Come on, answer me. Just because I’ve got one finger in you, doesn’t mean you’re allowed to be stupid.”

“M’need more,” you whispered.

Sam sighed in faux irritation. “You need more? Because it seems to me that you could come with me just fucking you with one finger, considering how much you’re squeezing.”

You cried out, “Please, Sam!”

“Fine,” Sam said, pulling her finger out of you. She brought it to her mouth, cleaning it off with her tongue. Pulling out from between her lips, she spat on her fingers before bringing them back to your pussy.

Sam slowly rubbed at your clit as she moved to sit on her knees behind you. She leaned in as she slipped two fingers into you, biting your ass before trailing her tongue all the way to your asshole. She tested the waters, circling her tongue around your entrance before pushing it in just a little.

“Oh- that’s,” you moaned, gripping the sheets. Sam’s tongue on your ass felt strange in the best way and you wanted her to keep going.

As Sam continued to fuck her tongue in and out of you, she kept the same pace with her fingers. You were usually shy the first couple of times you had sex with someone new, but everything felt too good for you to really care.

“D- Daddy,” you moaned. Hearing Sam chuckle against your skin brought you closer to the orgasm you were trying to fight off. “Please- Please, I’m so, so close. Please let me come.”

Sam pulled her mouth away and hummed, “Go ahead and come for your Daddy.”

You bit down on the sheets on your bed as you came, not wanting to be heard by anyone passing by. Sam pulled out her fingers, smacking your ass with the hand that was just inside of you. “Get on your knees,” she demanded.

You quickly obeyed, looking up at Sam with wide eyes. “Open,” she said, and you did as you were told. Opening your mouth as wide as you could without hesitation, you had no time to react as Sam shoved two fingers into your mouth. You gagged around them, trying your best to suck when she was pushing them deeper down your throat.

“God, you look so fucking pretty with tears in your eyes,” Sam praised, leaning down over you. “Close your eyes.”

You weren’t sure why she was telling you to do that, but you closed your eyes - doing as she had ordered. You flinched, pulling your mouth off her fingers when Sam spat on you.

“You want something else in your mouth?” Sam asked, smearing her spit across your face.

You took a deep breath, opening your eyes once you felt comfortable enough. You nodded and without a word, Sam gripped the base of the toy and brought the tip to your lips. You welcomed the toy into your mouth, pushing inch by inch until your nose touched her stomach. When you pulled off the toy, a string of drool was left connecting your mouth to it.

Sam jerked the toy off, spreading your drool all over it. “God you’re so fucking pretty. Come on, get back on my cock.”

You leaned back in, taking the toy in your mouth before Sam grabbed your head with both of her hands. She kept you in place while she began to fuck your face at a slow pace. You looked up at Sam, trying your best to suppress the gag reflex that was threatening to act up. Sam sped up her movements as she kept a firm grip on your head.

You gagged, causing your eyes to water - which made Sam pick up her pace. You breathed through your nose, trying to relax as she pushed you down further on it, making you gag again.

“You’re such a filthy fucking whore for me, letting me choke you with my cock when anyone can just walk in. I bet you’d like that, huh?” Sam teased.

Sam fucked your face harder, letting one of her hands come down to pinch at your nose. You pushed at her thighs as you tried your best to stay relaxed. Finally, Sam let go of your nose to slap your face as she continued to fuck your mouth.

Sam pinched your nose closed once more, this time she stopped thrusting to hold you down on the strapon. You gagged again, not once, but twice before Sam pushed you off her. You gasped for breath, as you wiped the spit from your mouth with the back of your hand.

“On my bed, on your back,” Sam said, grabbing her water bottle and taking a sip. As you went to lay down, Sam handed it to you. “Take a few sips - you’re going to need it.”

You did before handing the bottle back to her. Sam smiled, “Good girl.” She sat it down on the nightstand before climbing into the bed and between your legs.

“Spread your legs. Wider,” she said, reaching over to open the nightstand drawer to grab a bottle of lube.

You watched as she squeezed some onto her hand. Bringing her now-lubricated hand to your pussy, she rubbed it into you, causing you to whimper. “Now this is your first and final warning: I’m going to fuck you like you’re nothing to me and I want you to know that’s not the case. Okay?”

You nodded, “I understand. I want it, want you to put me in my place, Daddy.”

Sam rubbed the tip of the toy against your clit and through your folds. “You stop me at any time if you need me to, okay?”

“I will, I promise.”

“Good girl,” Sam said as she pushed the strapon all the way inside you.

You let out a pained cry as Sam fucked you at a bruising pace. You brought your hand down to rub at your clit, but Sam smacked it away.

“You don’t get to touch yourself, fuckin’ greedy whore,” Sam spat, bringing her hand up to wrap around your throat. She squeezed hard, causing you to choke as she continued to fuck you.

“Nothing but a set of holes for me to fuck,” Sam grunted, letting go of your throat. “If I knew how easy you’d be, I would have done this so much sooner.”

“Fuck, S- Sam,” you gasped.

“Shut the fuck up,” Sam growled, glaring at you.

Sam slapped you across the face, using her free hand to keep herself balanced. You whimpered, feeling yourself getting closer to your orgasm. You figured Sam sensed it as well, pulling out of you.

“What the-“ you began, but Sam slapped your pussy as hard as she could.

“How many fucking times do I have to tell you that toys don’t fucking talk?” Sam asked, shoving the strapon back into you. “You really do like to be treated like you’re nothing, huh? It’s really fucking pathetic.”

Sam picked up her pace once more, not saying a word as she focused on fucking you.

“Pleasepleaseplease,” you begged. You were once again on the verge of an orgasm, but Sam ignored you. ”Daddy.”

”Pleasepleaseplease, Daddy,” Sam mocked.

Sam brought her hands up to your nipples, pinching them as hard as she could. It sent you over the edge and - to your surprise - she fucked you through your orgasm, not stopping. Sam didn’t let up, she continued at the same pace.

“I- I’m coming aga-!“ you cried out, but Sam covered your mouth.

“I’m going to have to teach you to shut up, don’t I?” Sam moaned, feeling her own orgasm approaching. “Go on, come for me, my pretty little fleshlight.”

You came, this time unable to cry out as she continued to cover your mouth. Sam stopped for a moment, leaning over you and taking one of your nipples into her mouth after moving her hand away from yours. She bit down, pulling it between her teeth.

“Fuck, ow,” you whimpered.

You kept grinding against Sam while her strapon was still inside of you. Letting go of your nipple, Sam asked, “You want to come again?”

You nodded, “Yes.”

Sam licked your nipple before sitting up straight again. “Do you think you’ve earned it? You already came twice. I’ve got a greedy set of holes here.”

Sam slowly pulled out halfway, looking down and letting spit fall from her mouth and onto the toy. She pushed the strapon back inside of you, beginning at a slow pace this time.

“All you’re good for is being my fucktoy, yeah?” Sam questioned, holding your thighs in place. She didn’t trust you, knowing you would try to close your legs when she wasn’t paying attention. “Repeat it back to me, you stupid slut.”

“I- I’m only good for be- being your fucktoy, Daddy,” you repeated, earning a satisfied smile from Sam.

“Yeah you are,” Sam laughed, picking up the pace, “Is that why Quinn fucked you last week? Hm? Are you a set of holes for her? Are you?”

“I-“ you began, unsure of how Sam would know that or why she would bring it up.

It was true, Quinn had called you over to hang out like the two of you normally did, but as the night went on, with the way Quinn was looking at you, you caved and ended up letting Quinn fuck you. You just weren’t expecting Sam to know about it. Then it clicked - that’s why she was annoyed when she came back in from talking to Quinn.

“I- it just happened, fuck-“ you cut yourself as Sam brought her hand down to rub at your clit, “It won’t happen again, D-Daddy.”

“No, it won’t, because you’re mine,” Sam snapped, pulling the toy out of you.

You cried out, unsure why she did that. Sam crawled up the bed so the strapon was right in front of your face.

“Clean up your mess, whore,” Sam said, watching as you strained your neck to get the toy into your mouth.

Sam grew impatient, fucking your face at a rough pace. You gagged as the tip of the toy hit the back of your throat, making you cry. Instead of stopping for a moment, Sam continued to fuck your mouth at a rough pace.

“God, I can’t wait to use you anytime I want. And you’re going to let me, right?” Sam asked.

When you didn’t answer, Sam stopped mid-thrust. “I asked you a question and I expect an answer. Or should I go tell Quinn that you want her back?”

“Mm hm mm!” you tried to say, but it was difficult to speak with your mouth full.

Sam knew what you were trying to say, smiling down at you before she continued her thrusts again. You looked up at her again, your vision blurry from crying.

“You’re so fucking pretty when you cry,” Sam moaned, coming as she fucked your face with the strapon.

She took a deep breath before pulling out of your mouth. Sam wiped your spit from your mouth, rubbing it all over your face as you whimpered.

“Get on all fours,” Sam ordered.

You did as you were told, getting on your hands and knees as Sam got off the bed to grab something.

“Has Quinn ever fucked your ass?” Sam asked, grabbing a condom from her backpack.

“N- No, Daddy,” you whimpered, stopping yourself from turning to look at her.

You squeezed your eyes shut as you felt the dip in the bed. Sam was behind you, running her hand against the small of your back.

“Are you lying to me?” Sam asked.

You looked back at her, “I- I would never lie to you! She’s never fucked my ass because… well…”

“Because?” Sam pushed.

“I wanted you to be the one to fuck my ass, if there was a chance that you liked me,” you admitted, looking back down at the sheets. You were embarrassed, unsure of what Sam was going to say.

“You were waiting for me to be the one to fuck your ass, yeah? Am I hearing you right?”

You took a deep breath. “Yes, you heard me right.”

“Has anyone fucked your ass?” Sam asked, her voice much softer than has been all night.

“No.”

Sam took a deep breath before getting off the bed. “Then we won’t be doing anal at all this summer. I’m not going to be rough the first time with you. Okay?”

“Okay,” you said, getting out of the position to sit at the edge of the bed, “Are you upset with me?”

“Oh no,” Sam said softly. “Why would I ever be mad at you?”

“Quinn… A week ago I didn’t know this was going to happen between us, but I promise, I only want you,” you reassured her.

Sam sat down on the edge of the bed with you, wrapping her arm around you. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” Sam asked with a concerned look on her face.

You shook your head, “Not at all, I had a lot of fun.”

“I’m so glad,” Sam smiled. “You were such a good girl for me, y’know that?”

You bit your lip as you felt your cheeks heat up. “Thank you.”

“Of course. Now let’s get you all cleaned up.” Sam stood up, grabbing a washcloth from her drawer. She walked into the bathroom and came back out.

She helped wash your face off, then your thighs, occasionally leaving soft kisses on your arm and shoulder.

Sam threw the washcloth on the floor and you assumed she was going to get it later. “Would you like to wear something or would you rather sleep naked?”

“I’ll sleep naked,” you said. “Can we cuddle?”

Sam laid down on the bed, patting the space next to her. “Of course we can.”

You laid down next to her on your side, closing your eyes and smiling to yourself. You weren’t sure how you got this lucky, but you were glad that you finally got what you had wanted for years.

“I’m sorry if that killed the mood,” you said.

Sam wrapped her arms around you. “Nothing you did killed the mood, I could just tell you needed a break. Plus, I’m in no rush considering we have all summer and after. I would tell you if you did something to kill my mood.”

“Okay.”

You quickly fell asleep, feeling safe in Sam’s arms.

[starry-bi-sky]

i've mentioned in a few past posts about an au where Danny is a variant of Jason Todd. I haven't made a post about it yet because I need a good rhythm flowing however i've been listening to Gladiator by Jann and I have been having thoughts.

but first, let me set the au:

Danny Fenton is Jason Todd, or at least, a variant of him. A him from a universe separate to the major Batman timeline - but still Jason Todd, down to the structure of his face and his name itself. The only thing that changes, is who picks him up - and, that he follows old Batman canon, and was an orphan. Jason Todd steals the tires off the batmobile and wallops Batman with his tirejack, and then runs off. Shortly after, he gets picked up by the Fentons.

(Customary line break,,,, word count check: 5k)

And his name changes from Jason Todd to Danny Fenton. He doesn't care much for the new name change, it stems from his mute refusal to share his name to the people that picked him up; an attempt to make him untraceable should he get away from them, and to keep something of his to himself. So they name him something new. He grows to like it enough as he acclimates to his new family.

(He hangs onto the name Jason Todd like a secret - he may be 'Danny Fenton' now, but he'll never forget his time on Gotham's streets. He'll always be Jason Todd.)

(Jazz is the only one who he tells his name to in the family - she affectionately calls him Jay whenever she wants.)

He becomes friends with Sam and Tucker and deals with Dash and his bullying. And when Danny steps in during a fight between Dash and another student, Dash gives him a bleeding nose and mockingly says, "Do you think you're Robin just because you're from Gotham, Fenton?"

Jason looks him in the eyes and he bares his teeth, "Why not?" he asks, spitting blood, "being Robin gives me magic."

The nickname sticks. It's supposed to be an insult; Daniel Fenton is not Robin, he'll never be Robin. Not now, not in a million years. Jason Todd has always wanted to be Robin, so he takes the insult and wears it proudly. He buys a school varsity jacket and painstakingly undos the stitching of all the school's motif on it. On the breast of it, he embroiders in a black circle with the Boy Wonder "R" on it instead. It's not good stitching, but the next day Danny wears it down to breakfast and into school.

In normal au canon, Daniel Jason Todd-Fenton (its a mouthful, just call him Danny) only meets the Waynes after he becomes Phantom - an event that leans more towards Daniel Fenton's accident than Jason Todd's death, but traumatizes him all the same. (Is it too much to want to be mourned? His best friends like to deny that he died - and Danny - Jason? - wishes they wouldn't, even if he did come back.)

(The accident embitters him, even more when his parents don't seem to pick up on it. He stops calling himself Danny Fenton - he's always been Jason Todd. It shows itself in his ghostly form. He doesn't want to wear the thing he died in, not in something that belongs to the Fentons, and his suit reflects that.)

In this timeline, Daniel Jason Todd-Fenton, aged 13, meets Dick Grayson and Bruce Wayne after a mishap with magic on the other end of the reality sends the three of them careening through time and space, and spat back out on the other end, in a world not their own. And together.

Danny is paired with a very confused Bruce Wayne and Richard Grayson. Luckily, there's a few heroes there to help them. Danny can hardly comprehend the idea that he's in another universe - he doesn't know why Dick Grayson and Bruce Wayne are seemingly handling it well.

On their way to a secondary base with the heroes, Danny turns to Bruce Wayne and asks, "So, is it part of rich-person training that you're just totally chill with being sent into another universe, or are you just weird?"

Bruce Wayne huffs at him, rather than get offended, and he smiles that dumb lopsided billionaire smile that Danny's seen on every vogue magazine he's been in. "I'm not so worried with these skilled heroes here to help us get home."

Danny silently concludes that he's just weird. At least Dick Grayson is biting back a smile behind him. "Riiiight..." He says, dragging the vowel out dryly.

When they get to that secondary location -- a safehouse that one of the heroes had set up -- the three of them are sat in a living room-like room while one hero, Zatanna, goes and calls someone from the Justice League. The other two heroes stay with the three of them.

Within a few hours, Danny is face to face with Batman - someone who he hasn't seen since he whacked him in the stomach with a tire iron - and Nightwing. For a moment, Danny swears that the both of them look almost spooked by him.

Batman stares at him for a moment when he enters, and then he goes to speak with Bruce Wayne. Danny doesn't care enough to hear what they're talking about, he pulls out his phone as Nightwing goes to speak with Dick Grayson.

"Are you a fan of Robin, little man?" Someone says, and when Danny looks up he locks eyes with Dick Grayson -- who is leaning around Nightwing to talk to him, the both of them are smiling. And considering who Nightwing was, Danny finds himself turning pink to the ears.

But he will not hide his jacket. He forces a grin through his embarrassment, "Hell yeah, man, Robin's cool." He says, and pushes his arms down to pull out the hem of his letterman, showing off the emblem. "I made it m'self out of a school varsity after the A-Listers started callin' me Robin."

"A-Listers?"

"Popular kids," Danny corrects, loosing his hold on the hem and brushing invisible wrinkles out of the embroidery. "They didn't like that I kept stepping in when they were bullying. Dash asked me if i thought I was Robin because I was from Gotham."

Dick Grayson looks intrigued -- and concerned, and he leans forward onto his knees and raises an eyebrow. "What did you say?"

And Danny grins a shark-like thing, straightening back his shoulders with a burning sort of smug pride and all the sharpness of broken glass left in Crime Alley. "I told him being Robin gave me magic, and then I punched him."

Dick Grayson's smile widens, splitting into showing teeth as he leans back into his seat. Danny isn't sure why he's so delighted - but Nightwing looks incredibly amused, and he suddenly remembers that the Robin himself was there in front of him.

Danny's face burns anew and his arms fold themselves in front of him once again.

"I don't think I ever caught your name, Robin." Dick Grayson goes, his voice thick with laughter, and Nightwing steps off to the side as Batman and Bruce Wayne walk over to join them both. They're just close enough that Danny can see Bruce Wayne raise an eyebrow at them both.

"It's Jason." Danny says before he can think about it, and barely stops himself from frowning at himself for the slip. He amends himself, glancing over at Batman and Bruce as they get closer. "But everyone calls me Danny."

Dick Grayson's head recoils slightly, and he looks a little surprised. "Why Danny?" He asks.

"Why Dick?" He shoots back, and Bruce and Dick both smile at him, with Dick Grayson shrugging with an expression that looks like 'you've got a point.'

In the end, the three of them - yes, three - get sent to this world's Wayne Manor, and Danny is bewildered by that decision to include himself -- he's not a Wayne. Why not just send him to the Fentons?

Batman tells him that the Fentons don't exist in this world, and Danny falls silent. "Oh." He says quietly, a pit growing in his stomach with an ill-kind of dread. He can't keep Batman's gaze, looking away with unease.

No Fentons in this world. No Fentons. Where was he then, in the grand scheme of things? Where was he in this world? What happened to Jason Todd? Was he even alive? He can't keep the worry off his face, and he jumps when a hand lands on his shoulder. When he looks up, Dick Grayson squeezes him gently.

Dick Grayson is steadily beginning to remind him of his sister.

-

They end up driving back in the Batmobile. It's such a shock to Danny that he momentarily forgets the lack of Fentons. He makes a laugh sound, actually, and immediately he covers his hand with his mouth and stares at the car -- tank? with his teeth sunk into his lower lip.

"Jason?" Dick says, and hearing his name being spoken feels like someone touched him with a livewire. It's weird, it's foreign - he hates, in some way, that it's foreign - and it's so nice. Yes, that's me.

He drops his hand immediately. "Sorry." He says, realizing he'd stopped in his tracks, "I -uh, was just surprised."

"It's not every day someone sees the Batmobile." Dick agrees. Nightwing has his back to them but Danny swears he sees his shoulders shaking a little.

"Yeah," Danny nods slowly, dragging his eyes over the batmobile as Batman opens the driver's side and gets in. He thinks for a moment, of what he should say next - whether to admit that he's seen it before, or to pretend that he's seeing it for the first time. Snd as Nightwing opens the door for him, Bruce, and Dick, he chooses the funnier option; "The last time I saw it, I was stealing its tires."

To his surprise and unsurprise, Danny only gets two pairs of eyes on him. Nightwing gets into the passenger seat as both Bruce and Dick turn their gaze onto him; Dick's eyes big like they were going to bulge out of his head.

"You what!?"

So Danny tells an amazed Dick Grayson that he hit Batman with a tire iron after he stole his tires - something he is very proud about and also incredibly embarrassed about when he retells what happened in the backseat of the batmobile, with Batman and Nightwing listening in from the front seat.

(Bruce Wayne doesn't ever tell Dick shit, he's going to lord this over Bruce's head the moment they are alone.)

"Please tell me this didn't happen in this world." Danny groans behind his palms as he sinks into his seat. Dick Grayson is killing himself laughing on his left, and he saw Bruce Wayne stifling a smile before he obscured his vision with his hands.

Much to his luck, its Batman himself who speaks next, (Danny was being mostly rhetorical). "It did." He says, and his voice sounds like the rumble of the earth before a stampede. It will never not throw Danny off every time he hears it. "It takes quite a lot of spunk to steal the tires off the batmobile."

He can't believe it. Batman is making fun of him. Fucking, Batman.

He wants to die with embarrassment. He groans even louder as Dick Grayson's laughter crescendoes. Danny risks a peak through his fingers, he doesn't know whether to regret it or not because he can just barely see Batman smirk very faintly from his position in the middle.

(His world axis tilts five degree leftways seeing it; like someone dunked a bucket of ice water on him.)

"He ended up being adopted by the Bruce Wayne of this world."

Danny's hands drop with his jaw into his lap. Dick Grayson on his left chokes on his laughter and careens into a coughing fit. Bruce Wayne on his right chokes on air, and quickly recovers himself with a cough behind a closed fist.

"What?" Danny croaks.

-

Apparently, Bruce Wayne's family is much larger in this world than it is in his. Danny can barely wrap his head around the idea that he ends up adopted by the man, but now he has to learn that Wayne had several children in this world?

He's still not wrapped his head around it when the three of them wind up at Wayne Manor, finally, or even when he's standing in front of him himself. For his effort, Bruce Wayne does a good job at looking unruffled by it.

God, he's weird. Danny's starting to quite like it, actually. How human of him.

He still can't wrap his head around it when he meets the rest of Bruce Wayne's children, all of whom are already aware of the three of them. Danny thinks that someone from the Justice League might've alerted them before they got here.

It makes sense, he supposes.

It helps that they are just as weirded out as he is. A boy named Tim Drake sees him for the first time and blurts out; "Oh wow, you're tiny." In a tone like he's just seen a two-headed snake burst out of the ground.

Danny is still offended. He's still growing. It's not his fault he spent twelve years of his life malnourished. "I'm gonna be taller than you," he tells him seriously, "and when I do I'm gonna kick your ass."

Tim snorts at him.

The other Bruce Wayne -- Mr. Wayne's -- youngest looks at him up and down with a face of carefully controlled judgement. His name is Damian, he's Bruce Wayne's only biological son. Danny can't believe that there's only one.

If anything, Bruce Wayne himself looks surprised too.

"Todd, yes?" Damian says, his green eyes narrowed at him.

Danny feels like the specimen under his parents' microscope, he feels like he's standing on a platform that's being slowly spun by scientists. He looks over at Bruce Wayne in confusion, and then back at Damian. "I- yes?"

Damian Wayne nods, and then leaves.

Danny does not once see himself. That is unsettling in and of itself - surely Jason Todd would have been told about another version of himself in this world, wouldn't he? How old is he here? An adult, probably. Danny doesn't know if he wants to see him. What does he look like when he's grown up? He pulls his Robin jacket around him a little tighter, like a cocoon, like a shield.

"It's weird to hear them call me Jason Todd." He says aloud to himself, and it leaves a weight behind in his chest that shouldn't hurt the way it does. It shouldn't be weird to be called your name. It shouldn't cobweb up your throat to hear your name being said. It was his name. It was his.

-

Danny acclimates to the manor slowly. The house is big, massive. He's never been in a house so large before, he feels like a stray cat being taken in for the first time, again. He and Bruce and Dick Grayson are all given their own separate rooms - one of many inside this mansion - and the sheer size of his bedroom is bigger than his living room and kitchen combined.

it's daunting. Danny sits outside on the balcony and stares at the stars he can see - Wayne Manor is far enough away from Gotham that its light pollution doesn't obscure the sky here like it did in the heart of it.

Danny finds the constellations he can find and wishes he had his books with him. He finds the library the next day and buries himself in the back, curling up into a comfy armchair next and inhaling each book he can get his hands on.

Tim Drake wanders past him at some point, Danny would have missed him if it weren't for the fact that Drake stared at him strangely when he saw him. He walks away when he realizes Danny was staring back.

It's a rinse and repeat for the next few days. Danny doesn't go to meals, he sneaks food from the kitchen afterwards, and then buries himself in hundreds of books in the library.

Dick Grayson, the one from his world, goes and finds him three days later. Danny's eyes hurt with strain by then, but he is furiously halfway through a Jane Austen novel when Dick sits down across from him.

"Have you been here all day?" Dick asks, he drapes himself across the side of his chair, contorting himself into a position that Danny doesn't think is comfortable when he looks up at him.

Not that he looks up at him long - he hums absently and goes back to reading. Frowning when he realizes he lost his place on the page.

Dick Grayson raises an eyebrow, "Have you at least eaten anything?"

Danny hums. No, he hasn't, and he hadn't thought about eating all day. Until now that is, his frown ever deepening as his stomach pangs with a deep hunger.

"That's not healthy."

"Mhm."

"Are you going to eat something?"

"Mhhh."

And this gets Dick to frown. He straightens himself up, propping onto his elbows to stare at Danny. "Jason." He says strongly. And it's that that gets Danny to finally look up from his page, jumping like he'd again been poked with a live wire as he stares at Dick with wide eyes.

"Yes?"

"Put the book down." Dick orders, gesturing towards the side table next to Danny with a nod. "And come eat something." There's very little room for argument in his voice, he sounds like Jazz when she's trying to parent him, but instead he actually sounds authoritative. Not bossy.

Danny still frowns at him. "You're not the boss of me." He says, sinking back into his chair with a thumb bookmarking his page.

Dick gives him a look and makes a decisive noise, swaggling his head side to side while he does. "I'm pretty sure that for as long as we're here, me and B actually are the boss of you."

He's never really liked authority figures, not ones that tried to boss him around, that is. Danny doubles down, his lips curling into a shadow of a scowl. "Just because you're my brother in another world doesn't mean you can act like it."

"That's not what I mean and you know it."

"I don't want to go eat."

"It's not good for you to skip meals."

"Quit talking like Jazz."

"Danny."

Danny sinks his teeth into his lip and scowls darkly at him, shrinking into the back of his armchair in hopes that it'll swallow him whole. The idea of going into that large fucking dining room fills him with a dread that makes him completely forget his appetite.

"Your fucking- dining room is- it's too big." He grits out, finally closing his book and hugging it tightly to his chest.

Dick blinks at him. "What?"

"You heard me! It's too big. This whole place is too big. It's- what do you even do with this much space? I don't know how this- other me ever lived here."

Dick Grayson surprises him, and his expression softens. "Oh," he says, "I get it."

"You do?" The tension bleeds slowly out of Danny's shoulders

"Yeah, I felt the same way when I first moved in with Bruce. I lived with the circus for most of my life, but I slept in a trailer." He says. And he talks more.

The end result of their conversation ends with Dick Grayson offering to let Danny sit across or next to him during mealtimes, and that he can talk to him if he starts getting uneasy. But he can't keep skipping meals - it was making them all worried.

Danny agrees, and Dick takes him down to the kitchens for food.

"They look at me weirdly too." He grumbles as they leave the library, Danny's book returned to the shelf where it belonged. When Dick looks at him curiously, he scrunches his nose up. "The - your other siblings. They look at me like I'm- I'm someone else. S'weird."

"Isn't that a good thing?" Dick asks, "You are someone else."

Dany shrugs, staring at the ground with a heavy frown. "I don't know."

-

Danny seeks out Dick more after that. And vice versa. Dick reminds Danny of Jazz, and he latches onto the familiarity like a leech. If Dick is bothered by it, he doesn't show it, whether he's talking to his other world's self, to the Bruce's, or to one of the other Wayne kids.

Damian Wayne seems particularly keen to seek him out, Danny finds. He thinks it means that they're close in this world, and that Damian wants to see more of what a young Dick is like. That's what he would do, at least.

He takes up on Dick's offer of seating near him during dinner, and finds an open spot across from him. Unless he has something to show him, then he sits next to him.

("You can call me Jason." He tells him one day when they're in the Wayne's massive, fuck-off gym and they're both climbing over the jungle gym. Dick's showing him how to be more flexible. It's the most Danny's worked out ever, he likes the burn it gives him.

Dick looks at him in surprise, "Really?" he's doing a handstand on the bars and Danny's more than a little jealous at his balance.

"Yeah, dipshit," he says, rolling his eyes, "I'll even let you call me Jay, it's my nickname."

Dick happily takes him up on that offer, and much to Danny's embarrassment, starts calling him Jaybird. All because of his stupid Robin jacket.)

Danny has yet to meet his other self still, it's scaring him a little. Where was he? And matter of fact, how long until he could go back to his home dimension? The three of them hadn't gotten any updates since they arrived.

Speaking of, he was starting to talk to Bruce more, it was just... strange. Even stranger than talking to Dick. Bruce Wayne in another life would have been his adoptive father, Danny can't wrap his head around it for the life of him.

Whatever did Bruce Wayne see in Jason Todd that made him worth adopting? He's too afraid of the answer to ask. They start talking more after they run into each other late at night. Danny had been hit with a bout of insomnia and was going to the library.

He ran into Bruce on the way. He was just.. staring, out the window, with a faraway look in his eye. He didn't even look startled to see Danny standing there.

Danny asks him if he wants to go to the library with him. It was out of panic. He isn't expecting Bruce Wayne to agree, and they walk there in suffocating silence. Danny keeps looking at him from the corner of his eye.

("You're staring?" Bruce doesn't sound upset, Danny jumps anyway.

"Yeah, sorry." his voice sounds stilted, "it's just..." his jaw wires itself shut for a spell, "...you looked like you were about to disappear."

"Ah.")

When they reach the library, Danny leads Bruce Wayne into the science section and takes out books upon books about stars. He leads him over to the armchair and fire and they both sit down on the ground.

"When I lived in Gotham I would stargaze." Danny says, it's the first thing he can think of. Bruce Wayne looks at him quizzically. "Well, I would try to. The sky's too polluted for that. Mostly I would just watch the skyline and try and spot Batman and Robin, was the same thing."

That cracks a smile out of Bruce. It's a small one, barely there. "I hardly think the two are comparable."

Danny is still serious. "Not to me."

He goes on, talking about how after he was adopted he got his hands on every star book he could find. He loves english and he loves to read, but something about the stars drew him in like a song. He rambles about every star fact he knows with Bruce Wayne.

Bruce Wayne surprises him by telling him facts he didn't know. Danny soaks it up like a sponge, listening intently to him speak. And when they run out of star books to talk about, Danny tells Bruce that it was his turn to find something for them to talk about.

Bruce Wayne smiles again at him, a sly little thing like Danny's challenged him, and gets up. He comes back with a stack of film books, and they spend the next few hours going through them. Bruce Wayne rattles off every single movie fun fact he knows, and there is so much that he knows.

Danny is in awe, and moves to press against Bruce's side to see the stuff he points at in his books.

"You're smarter than people give you credit for." He says at some point, when his eyes hurt from being open for too long and his head leans against Bruce's arm for support. It follows with a jaw-cracking yawn that he tries and fails to stifle.

"Thank you, Danny." Bruce says, his voice soft and soothing and not helping with Danny's weighing exhaustion. His eyes drift, and then jerk open. "Do you want to go back to your room? You look tired, chum."

He bites back a smile at the nickname, and fails to keep it bitten. "No, no, I'm awake." He mumbles, shaking his head slowly. "I wanna hear-" he yawns again, "-hear you talking."

Danny swears he can hear the smile in Bruce's voice as he speaks; "Alright. Now, where was I?"

In the end, Danny falls asleep on the floor of the library next to Bruce Wayne. He doesn't even realize it until he wakes up the next morning. But it's not to worry, Bruce Wayne fell asleep too, an arm thrown around Danny protectively like he was his own kid.

This becomes a thing for them soon enough. When neither of them can sleep, they go to the library and talk and talk about whatever comes to mind.

There comes the dreaded night after they've finished whatever book they were looking at when Bruce, the little shit, turns to Danny and goes; "You never mentioned what happened after you hit Batman with a tire iron."

Danny groans, big and dramatic, burying his head in his arms, and ignores the low chuckle. "I thought he was gonna chase me down for sure." He complains, his voice muffled by his arms.

"Why did you hit him with a tire iron?"

The look Bruce gets is one of pure disbelief. "If Mothman suddenly showed up behind you while you were taking the wheels off his ride, you'd hit him too!"

"Last time I checked, Mothman isn't real." Bruce told him amusedly, and Danny flops over onto his back to stare him down. His arms sprawl out like a starfish, intentionally hitting Bruce in the shoulder.

"You don't know that, Batman's a cryptid and he's real."

Bruce roars with laughter, and Danny preens like a bird.

That next morning when Bruce passes by him for breakfast, he reaches over and ruffles his hair. It's the same thing he does for Dick every morning. It's the first of many, and it gets many stares from the surrounding family.

Bruce has a newspaper tucked under his arm, and when he sits down Danny stands up and skedaddles over to him, leaning over the side of his chair to peer at the paper.

"Any cryptids spotted, Buzz?" He asks, getting a startled laugh out of Bruce, who looks up at him.

"Buzz?"

"Well, yeah," and Danny states it as matter-of-fact. He gestures his head at Dick Grayson. "Dick calls you 'B', and B is for bees, and I can't just call you Bees, that's dumb. So; Buzz."

He grins triumphantly when Bruce laughs quietly, his shoulders shaking imperceptibly. "I know," he tilts his head up proudly, "I'm a genius."

Now he's actually laughing, dropping his head into one of his hands and trying to quiet himself as much as possible. Danny is positively beaming, ignoring the stares of the other Waynes as he flounces back to his seat just as the other Mister Wayne enters the room.

-

When Jason Daniel Fenton Todd meets Jason Todd for the first time, they both just stare at each other.

Danny recognizes himself immediately in the library, and he freezes up. His tongue ties to the roof of his mouth, and he's unsure of what to say.

He doesn't need to say anything at all, because when Jason Todd looks up and they lock eyes, they both just stare. And stare. Jason Todd is a large, hulk of a man, built like a brick shithouse, with a tired, traumatized look in his eyes and a white streak in his black curls. The same black curls that Danny himself has.

He has no idea what to say. Or if he should turn back around and leave.

Jason Todd sighs at him, "I know they told me you and another world's Bruce and Dickie were here," he says, but it sounds like he's talking to himself. Even moreso when he mutters half-heartedly, "-but I was hoping I wouldn't run into you."

Danny feels small next to him. He doesn't know why. "Sorry." He says lamely, his one foot skips back, "I can leave if you want." It's unlike him to be meek, he thinks. Not after years of Gotham living and dealing with the likes of Dash and his Jerk Jocks.

But this also isn't the streets, and this isn't other kids being dicks. Jason Todd shakes his head, and gestures with one large arm for Danny to come over. "You don't need to do that, you were coming to read, right?"

He nods, and tentatively makes his way over. When Jason looks at him, he sees him cast his eyes over his Robin jacket - he wears it everyday. Danny sees him narrow his eyes, just slightly. But he says nothing.

It's... a strange conversation. Interaction. Jason Todd doesn't talk to him much, and if he does it's stilted and awkward, like he doesn't know how to treat him. Like he's holding him at arm's length.

Jason's getting tired of being treated like a ghost.

They talk about their books. They compare lives. Jason Todd was picked up a few days after he stole the wheels of the batmobile. He wasn't an orphan, he lived with his mom and his stepdad before he lived with Bruce. They both like to read, only Danny has an interest in the stars.

("What do your adoptive parents do?" Jason Todd asks him, one arm slung over the back of the armchair, he looks relaxed. He looks tense. Danny feels like he's back in Crime Alley again.

"They're 'ectologists'." He says, making air quotes over the word. He rolls his eyes, "Ghost hunters. They study the dead and all things afterlife."

Jason Todd makes a dry laugh huff, a sarcastic half-smile on his face. He doesn't explain why he does, Danny doesn't ask why. It doesn't seem like his business.)

Danny wants to ask him where he got that white streak in his hair. It doesn't feel right. It feels like his parents' lab, and that isn't right. Nothing ever feels like his parents' lab.

Jason Todd leaves first after giving him a few book recommendations. Danny isn't sure how to rate the experience. Being in Jason Todd's presence was like standing in a liminal space. An empty parking lot at night. When he leaves it feels like much the same thing.

He struggles to read his books afterwards, unable to shake the feeling of being haunted.

[panlight]

Really is wild when you start to think about what other characters went through during the course of the books that just . . . doesn't matter all that much.

Alice found out how/why she was turned, that she had been hunted by James and a vampire who cared about her turned her to save her and then died protecting her. That's a lot. And then in New Moon she finds out her father had her committed to an asylum and the date on her supposed gravestone matches the date on the admission papers. Also a lot. I guess with this one you can sort of handwave it with "she doesn't remember any of it though so maybe that's why it doesn't affect her much."

Then there's Leah and Seth, who lose their dad, and that's like, hardly a thing other than a) allows for the "funeral" miscommunication and b) makes Sue single so she can take care of Charlie while Bella's off blissfully vampiring. Seth is happy and sunny and sweet pretty much 100% of the time, and Leah's issues are all attributed to the Sam/Emily drama rather than, oh, I don't know, the shock of her phasing into a wolf causing her father's fatal heart attack. The guilt she must feel about that even though it's not at all her fault!

Then there's the Cullens in general dealing with having to hunt down and kill James; having to deal with Edward running away and nearly dying in Volterra; being under the threat of the Volturi because of Edward's misadventure in Italy; having to fight to the death against a bunch of newborns; and facing off against the Volturi. They presumably have been living in peace since whenever it was Maria had shown up in Calgary and then in the space of like a year and a half just complete and utter chaos, and all they can say about it is like, "we're so grateful you saved Edward, Bella!"

Quil, watching all his friends join this mysterious 'cult' and being left out and confiding in Bella about it. Sam dealing with All Of It when he wasn't even supposed to be the Alpha. Embry realizing he's the half-brother of one of these guys and probably searching for that belonging but knowing it could throw the community and families into chaos.

And then there's the pregnancy. Only Rosalie gets to have any feelings about it really and again, it's mostly so she can be Bella's bodyguard and less about Rosalie herself. But Esme has also longed for motherhood and sure she "makes do" with her Cullen kids, but they were all essentially adults when she adopted them. But more importantly she actually HAS been pregnant and HAS had a baby and LOST said baby. She also crushed hard on a vampire when she was a teenager, and now she's watching Bella getting to have a child with the vampire she loves when it's impossible for Esme herself and surely surely surely this would bring up some complicated feelings. But we get nothing. Like, literally nothing from Esme, she might as well not be in the book. She just existed to renovate the cottage.

Then there's Carlisle, whose mother died in childbirth from his normal human birth, watching his new daughter-in-law dying from a pregnancy and listening to his first and most beloved son say how he could never love the creature, his own child, if it kills Bella, and probably looking back on his own fraught relationship with his father and reliving that same resentment from the POV of the 'creature that killed the mother' and again, nothing. Not a factor. No one even mentions it in passing.

And like yes, I know, it's a YA romance, it's Not That Deep, it's about a girl falling in love with a vampire and finding wish fulfillment fantasy in that. I know. Everything else is just set dressing and not given any depth at all because it's not the point. But man, there's SO much there in the little throwaway details and unexplored backstories, and I fully believe that's what is fueling a large part of the fandom to this day.

[deanwinchestergf]

and why would an angel rescue me from hell? good things do happen dean. not in my experience. i'm not here to perch on your shoulder. i was getting too close to the humans in my charge. you. to everything there is a season. you made an exception for me. you're different. for what's worth, i would give anything not to have you do this. i learned my lesson while i was away, dean. i serve heaven, i don't serve men and i certainly don't serve you. but you guys aren't supposed to be there, you're not in this story. yeah, well, we're making it up as we go. i'm hunted, i rebelled and i did it all, all of it, for you. so what i'm thelma and you're louise and we're just gonna hold hands and sail off this cliff together? i need your help because you're the only one who'll help me. that's a pretty nice timing, cas. we had an appointment. what happened to you cas? you used to be human, or at least like one. but cas, you'll call right? if you get into real trouble? this is cas, guys. he has gone to the mat cut and bleeding for us so many freaking times, don't we owe him the benefit of the doubt at least? it sounds so simple when you say it like that, where were you when i needed to hear it? i was there, where were you? i'm doing this for you, dean. i'm doing this because of you. but we were family once, i would've died for you, i almost did a few times. i've lost lisa, i've lost ben and now i've lost sam. don't make me lose you too. cas, you child, why didn't you listen to me. you used to fight together, bestest of friends, actually. if you remember, then you know you did the best you could at the time. the very touch of you corrupts. when castiel first laid a hand on you in hell he was lost. i'd rather have you, cursed or not. well, i'll go with you. i prayed to you cas, every night. cas, we're getting out of here, we're going home. i mean you kept saying you didn't think it would work, did you not trust me? cas, it's me. we need you, i need you. i won't hurt dean. cause you didn't trust me? you didn't trust me. please, man, i need you here. nobody wants him here more than i do. you gave us an order, castiel, and we gave you our trust. don't lose it over one man. you really believe we three will be enough? we always have been. his true weakness is revealed. you draped yourself with the flag of heaven but ultimately, it was all about saving one human. i'm glad you're here, man. how are you, dean? and then you'll kill the angel, castiel. now that one, that i suspect would hurt something awful. and when you turn, everyone you know, everyone you love, they could be long dead. everyone except me. i'm not gonna send lucifer into battle inside cas, what if he doesn't make it? it's not an it, sam. it's cas. but you're always there, you know? i could go with you. you mean too much to me, to everything. i'm gonna cure you of your human weakness, same way i cured my own. it's a gift, you keep those. you mean we? yes, dumbass, we. we lost everything and now you're gonna bring him back. we got cas back, that's a pretty damn big win. just don't get dead again. it's good to hear your voice. so this is goodbye? but i swear if he did something to her, if she's- then you're dead to me. either get on board or walk away. i don't know what's god and what isn't, and it's driving me crazy. dean, you asked what about all of this is real. we are. you used trust me, give me the benefit of the doubt, now you can barely look at me. i think it's time for me to move on. you didn't deserve that. since when do we get what we deserve? maybe if you didn't just up and leave us. i left but you didn't stop me. i should've stopped you. you're my best friend but i just let you go. and i forgive you, of course i forgive you. i'm sorry it took me so long, i'm sorry it took me til now to say it. you did it cas. okay, cas, i need to say something. you don't have to say it, i heard your prayer. well, here's to being right. you know what every other version of you did after gripping him tight and raising him from perdition? they did what they were told, but not you.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Just Friends: Can I Take Your Order?

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes

masterlist

Summary: Bucky pays you a surprise visit.

It’s giving

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Your work isn’t hard per se, but it can be chaotic. Still, your tips more than make up for all the running around, but not necessarily the ridiculous attire. You’re not entirely unhappy, it’s exciting even if it can be stressful. 

The diners always keep you on your feet. Literally. You run around, table to table, that night dressed as the infamous Dorothy who’s too far from Kansas. Somewhere around their, a lion, scarecrow, and tinman are taking orders and entertaining children at their seats. 

The themed restaurant isn’t really the place you would go, but it’s a family-friendly venue in a city overcrowded with more adult attractions. The money keeps a roof over your head. You won’t complain for that. 

The Oz room is overflowing and you can see more customers in the lobby. Please send them over to Mary Poppins’ Pop-In. You don’t have time to dread the new wave of diners as you bring a tray of desserts to a table with three blustering toddlers. You could never. 

“Anything else?” You ask as you put out the stemmed cups of banana pudding pie. 

“The check--” the father demands before he’s hit in the face with a stray straw. He grits back his agitation and forces a smile, “thanks.” 

You pick up the straw and leave him. As you do, you pass Graham, that night’s scarecrow. He lowers his voice as he follows you to the till. 

“Can you get the next table, please? I’m dying for a smoke. Any longer and I’m going to smack one of these brats,” he mutters. 

You smile at him. You find the nights go by quicker without breaks. “No problem! On it. I just need to get this bill printed out.” 

You toss the straw and tap the till. You pull up that table and print it out, tucking it into one of the little folders. You grab a handful of hard candies and sweep back across the dining room. 

“Here ya are, enjoy your desserts,” you say and carry on. 

You peer around, searching for the new diners. Right there in the corner. You head over in your pig-tailed wig and red shoes. As you near, your chest flickers. You think you know the back of that head. No, it’s not. He wouldn’t be here... 

You’re all but assured of your suspicions by the golden hair of the man across from him. A third to round out party. You cringe before you muster a smile and come to the side of the table. 

“Welcome to the Land of Oz,” you recite your mandatory introduction and avoid looking at Bucky, “don’t stray too far or you might find a wicked witch or flying monkey to carry you off. May I start you with some drinks?” 

“You got cocktails at a joint like this?” Bucky scoffs. 

You refuse to look at him, “the menu’s right there.” You point beside the centerpiece. He chuckles. 

“This is cute, how’d you find this place, Buck?” The blond asks. The man better known as Captain America. 

“Hmm, this place would be fun to you two geriatrics,” their other companion says. That’s the Falcon. 

You can feel Bucky watching you. He’s smirking. You know it. At least when you see him, you only ever have your stupid dress on. You take the wig and makeup off before you go home. It attracts less weirdos. 

“So, we do have beer, despite what you might think,” you offer. 

“Got prune juice? These two need it--” Falcon, rather Sam Wilson, chortles and receives an elbow to the ribs. 

“We have cranberry,” you suggest. 

“Where’s Toto?” Bucky asks. 

You hold back as sigh and finally meet his eyes, “no dogs allowed.” 

“Damn, sounds like you should go then, eh, Buck,” Sam adds. You grin as he cackles. 

“Hey,” Bucky sneers. “Just water for me.” 

“No milk to keep your bones strong?” The Captain, or Steve, kids. 

“You’re a year younger, shut up,” Bucky huffs. 

“I’ll get a water too,” Steve smirks. 

“Get me a Miller,” Sam says, “please.” 

“No problem. I’ll be back with that and some menus.” 

You spin and strut away. It feels good to see him getting teased because you know he only came here to mock you. You can’t exactly follow him to his work and make fun of his arm. Not that you would. 

You get the water and beer and return to the table with menus under your arm. You hand them all out and give them some time to look over it. You check in with your other tables before you go back again. 

“So, have we made up our minds?” You smile. 

Steve smiles at you, “uh, can I ask what kinda fish it is?” 

“Cod, sir,” you answer as you lean in to see where he points on the menu. 

“Ah, thanks.” 

“You got any recommendations?” Sam asks. 

“I usually go straight to dessert,” you smile, “but the spaghetti is yummy. And you can get it spicy.” 

“Oh, you like it spicy?” Bucky snickers. 

You look at him and Steve clears his throat, “Buck.” 

“Yikes, dude. You got lines, huh?” Sam teases. 

“No, I just--” he gets flustered and rolls his eyes. “Can I have the cheeseburger and fries?” 

“Sure thing,” you take out your notepad. 

“I’ll have the fish and chips,” Steve says, “is it possible to add an extra filet?” 

“Yeppers,” you nod and jot it down. 

“Think I’ll get the meatball sandwich,” Sam says, “apparently, I like meatballs.” 

Steve scowls again and Bucky sighs. You tap your pen on the pad, “alrighty. I’ll go put your order in.” 

“Thanks, doll.” Sam winks at you. 

You smile and as you turn, you hear Bucky hiss, “doll? Since when do you call anyone doll?” 

You make a face but don’t pay much mind to their arguing. He did mention his other friends could be a bit much. Based on that interaction, you’d say he’s just as bad. 

You put the ticket in the window and turn back. As you go back to the family to get the bill and your tip, your eyes snag on Bucky. He cranes around to see you and waves at you with two fingers. Oh, you have to get him back for this.