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#sam and peace
gingersnapped · 4 months
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"Sam is probably my only friend in this town..." emergency sleepover time in the mountains after local small town emo and skater boy played too much solarion chronicles and lost track of time
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puppetmaster13u · 4 months
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Prompt 131
Okay, so first of all Dan would like to say it’s not his fault. Ellie was the one to bring some unknown object into the speeder and Jazz was the one driving. Or had Sam been driving- didn’t matter! It wasn’t his fault, he wasn’t the one shooting at them, he wasn’t the one to break whatever, he was not the one to open a stupid portal, and so it wasn’t his fault! 
So why is he now like, five years old, and why is the speeder crashed in some sort of corn field. Why is everyone- except for Jazz whose now like six- also like three at most?! And- oh fuck the door just opened and… okay that’s a kid. Like, nine at most. 
A kid and an adult, who he hadn’t noticed at first so again, it’s not his fault if he hissed at them and tried to hide his not-siblings behind him. It’s also not fair they’re apparently stuck to ghost speak for who knows how long, but at least they can understand the people. 
“Martha, get some blankets, it’s happened again!” 
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tanglepelt · 9 months
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Dc x dp idea 95
Danny wasn’t thrilled with the whole ghost king bs. So he just doesn’t do it. The realm was just fine without pariah. Someone else can deal with the paperwork.
The biggest problem tho. The summonings.
No one will teach him how to say no to them. All wanting him to do his duty. He is barely passing his human classes. He refuses king lessons. He’ll take the summons over kingly duties.
Besides. Jazz has a solution.
At all times he is awake, thankfully summons don’t happen when he is asleep. A friend or Jazz is with him.
Armed with the Fenton anti-creep stick or another weapon. Ready to step over the summons circle smack down the cultist here and there and break the summoning circle. Then Danny just opens a portal and they dip.
John on the other hand is more stressed then normal. For some reason the new ghost king is letting any body summon him. Hell. They got reports that a slumber party summoned him.
Rather then ignore the summons. The new king has one of three teenagers deal with the problem. A goth armed with a wrist laser and brass knuckles, a guy with apparently a pda, and then the orange haired one with a flipping bat.
Now he had to summon the king and figure out what’s up.
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bloodfreak-boyking · 3 months
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how to look at your brother in a platonic and god-honoring way
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starheirxero · 3 months
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Local god, once again, gets too silly and tortures his servant 😔 (heartbreaking)
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My contribution for the DTIYS being hosted by @ask-dimension71542 which is run by @tbean555 and @duskrize !!! :3
No text version + shitpost text under the cut!
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I love this man so much he makes me ill 💜
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Sweet Talker - Sam Kiszka
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A/N: Remember when I said it would be a crime not to write a voice kink Sam fic? Yeah. There’s not much of a plot here really, just filth. Only lightly edited! I love you all so, so much!
WARNINGS: 18+!! Fingering, teasing, lots of dirty talk, voice!kink, hair pulling, choking, unprotected sex (be smart, be safe!!)
MASTERLIST
••••
Sam’s voice.
No matter how many times you hear it, it tears its way through your ears and shakes its way through your body in the most knee-buckling ways imaginable.
The slightly raspy, yet soft and almost nonchalant drawl of his words, never fails to send sweet, debilitating chills up your spine. And god, did he fucking know it, too. He notices everything, but particularly loves to clock the little things that turn you on.
When it’s just the two of you, his voice is much softer and quieter than it is when he’s with his brothers, or socializing with others.
While you adore his boisterous laugh and louder tone when he’s excited, that quietness that he seems to save specifically for you, is your favorite. Your weakness.
“What did you do while I was gone today, gorgeous?” Sam asks you quietly, while his hand strokes up and down your bare back softly.
You snuggle further into his bare chest, fingers gliding over his collarbone as you lay on top of him in your shared bed. The two of you lay this way often, partially -or sometimes fully- bare and just talking - Informing the other about the days events. Some days offering much more dramatic of tales than others do.
“Mmm…” You trail off into thought, thinking very little about what you’ve even done throughout the day, but more so the tingle Sam’s voice has just sent through your body and straight to your core. “I didn’t do all that much today, really…”
“That’s a cop out,” his lazy, raspy voice shoots the teasing observation at you, as he glances down at you with that goofy grin of his.
You’re quick to defend yourself. “It is not! I would just ra-“
“-Rather listen to me talk?” You can hear the smile in his voice, the second he cuts you off to finish your sentence for you. “Uh huh, I bet you would.”
A crimson blush paints over your cheeks. You’re incredibly thankful that you can bury your face away into his neck.
“You do this almost every night, doll,” Sam points out, tone smug and knowing. “One of these days, you’re gonna get sick of hearing me talk so much. Now c’mon, tell me about your day and I will tell you all about mine after.”
A faint huff slips through your nose. Of course you want to talk to him about your day…after you take care of the ache making home between your legs that he has caused.
“I spent some time editing some photos… those boudoir ones that I took a couple days ago,” you explain casually, going into as little detail as possible.
“Yeah?” Sam’s hand continues drawing lines up and down your spine - effectively fueling the fire inside of you. The lilt in his tone playfully urges you to continue. “I bet they look beautiful… You should get some done soon…”
You tilt your head to look at him, “You would like that, wouldn’t you?”
“I would love it,” he corrects with a light tap against your nose with his free hand. “The same way you would love a recording of me talking on a five hour loop.”
“That would depend on what you’re saying,” you shoot back, smiling. It doesn’t really matter what Sam was saying, his voice affects you, always. For the sake of guiding your little cuddle session in a different direction, though…
“Oh, really? So a professional recording of me talking about the weather, wouldn’t do anything for you?” Sam jests, bringing his opposite hand up to poke at your side.
“Sam,” you sigh, frustrated by his obvious stalling. He loves to make you wait and suffer and pine, just a little.
“What?” You feel him shrug against you, dropping his voice lower. “Would me telling you exactly how to touch yourself be better? Or me reciting all the praises I know you love so much?”
A shaky breath bursts out of you at that, a clear sign for Sam to continue. He isn’t exactly digging for any verbal answers just yet.
“Ohh, that struck a chord, didn’t it?”
And here he goes, right back to teasing you again.
Wrapping both arms around your body, he carefully flips the two of you over, so that you are laying beneath him.
“That’s exactly what you want, isn’t it? For me to call you pretty and coo in your ear while you cum all over my hand?” He starts to place kisses along your jawline, working his way to the sensitive skin just below your ear. Slipping his hand in between your bodies, he just barely grazes his fingers over your heat, “Just… like… this…?”
Another whimper floats out of you just as Sam moves back up to join his lips with yours.
It’s a slow and sweet kiss at first, tricking you into believing Sam is going to give you exactly what you want, right away. His tongue pushes against yours gently, deepening the kiss and stealing all the air from your lungs until they’re burning and warming you to pull away. But you can’t bring yourself to pull away first.
Sam senses this and every few kisses, he slowly starts to pull away, making you chase after his mouth, wearing a smirk that grows with each of your impatient whimpers as he keeps his lips just out of your reach every time.
“What is it?” He questions knowingly, bringing his hand up to your jaw to keep you in place.
“Sam,” you’re fully pouting now, pushing against his grip in attempts to kiss him more. “You’re always being a tease.”
“Quit pouting.” He nudges your bottom lip with his thumb playfully. “You love it when I tease you. Don’t even try to act like you don’t.”
Sam is right and you know it. He knows you know it, too. You can’t fool him.
He takes your silence as victory, “Uh huh. See?”
The teasing, slightly condescending cadence to his tone sends you reeling all over again. His knowing smirk making your stomach twist with desire and excitement. As it always does.
You reach up to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down to meet your lips with all the strength you can muster.
Your lips meet not so gracefully at first, and you swallow down the low chuckle Sam emits before the kiss turns needy and quick in pace.
Sam’s hands start to feel around your body, gripping at your hips, your waist. A soft growl vibrates through his chest. The sound reminds you why you want to be in this position in the first place.
“Sammy…baby.” It comes out almost like a plea. You need to hear him.
“You’re such a needy thing,” Sam says, shaking his head.
“Not needy,” you protest. “Just wanna hear your voice.”
“I was gonna get there, if you would just be patient.” Sam chuckles, hand coming up to wrap around your throat. “Can you do that? Be my sweet, patient, girl?”
All you do is shake your head ‘yes,’ but that’s not good enough for your Sammy. Not in the slightest.
He leans in, lips grazing yours with the formation of each of his words, “That just won’t do. I think you already know that, too. Speak up, princess. Spit it out.”
It’s low and raspy, the demand. You’ll do absolutely anything that his gravely, lust-drawn voice asks of you.
“I’ll be patient for you.” You give in right away. “I’ll be your good girl.”
“Yeah? You’ll be my good girl?” Sam questions, trailing his hand down from your throat to your chest, teasing and toying with your nipple.
“Yes, s-sir.” Your breath catches in your throat, your body warming rapidly as Sam continues to feel around your chest.
“You always are,” Sam sighs, his right hand traveling down your stomach, stopping just shy of your core. “You always listen so well and cum so pretty for me.”
Your hips raise to press harder against his splayed hand, the warmth of it only adding to your body’s excess of heat and need.
Sam leans in even closer, nudging your head to the side with his nose. His lips graze your ear, sending chills up your spine. All while his hand continues it’s decent between your legs.
“What is it, princess?” He notices the way your breath catches in your throat, the soft squeak of a whimper giving you away. He places a few kisses to the pulse point below your ear. “Your heart is racing. Did I get you all worked, sweet girl?”
“Sammy…” It’s a desperate plea, almost embarrassingly whiny - the way his name falls off your tongue.
“I know, I’m gonna make you feel good,” Sam assures you, sliding his middle finger through your folds, sighing as your arousal completely coats his finger. “Is this what my needy girl wanted? For me to talk to her and play with her sweet little cunt?”
A few slow circles over your clit is all it takes to pull a moan from you, making Sam’s lips curve up into a cocky smirk.
“There we go,” Sam starts, voice low and smooth. “There’s those pretty noises.”
Sam’s thumb replaces his middle finger, keeping the light pressure against your clit, knowing that it will drive you straight to an orgasm and fast. His middle and ring fingers slip inside you slowly, curling up into that sweet spot that he can do perfectly reach.
“Fuck, Sammy,” you cry, reaching up to grip at his bicep. “Right there, please…”
“Right where, princess? Here?” He punctuates the question with a firm curl of his fingers, holding the pressure for a few seconds until you begin to squirm beneath him.
“Oh god- Fuck, yes! Sammy, please!” Your breathing becomes even more labored, eyes screwing shut as you fall into overwhelming pleasure.
“Such a pretty girl,” Sam coos, smiling down at you. “I love when you whimper my name like that.”
“Keep talking, Sammy, please,” you beg him, head lulling back against the pillows.
“Keep talking?” Sam teases lightly, dropping his voice even lower. “You just love my voice, huh? Bet I could make you cum just by talking to you. What do you think, gorgeous?”
“I-“ You attempt to form a coherent sentence, but another wave of pleasure and moan stops you short. “P-probably.”
“Mmm, might have to test that out one night,” Sam hums, as if just voicing a casual thought out loud.
You feel Sam’s forehead press against yours, only serving to make you melt further into the sheets.
“Listen to me, baby doll,” Sam practically growls, although he knows he already has every bit of your attention. You force your eyes open to meet his. “You’re gonna cum right on my fingers and say my name nice and pretty when you do. Okay?”
“Y-yes, sir,” you answer him breathlessly, feeling yourself squeeze around his fingers, pulling them in even deeper. Oh, how your body reacts to him. Every. Time.
“That’s my pretty girl,” he praises, kissing down your cheek to your neck. “Let me have it, gorgeous. Please.”
It burns low in your stomach, your body’s internal scream for release. A few more pumps of his fingers and swirls of his thumb, throw you over the edge and into the raging waves of your high.
You feel it throughout your whole body, tensing and relaxing all the muscles in your body rapidly.
Your head spins as you come down, but Sam clearly isn’t ready to stop.
Your hand shoots down to wrap around his wrist, tugging at it in attempts to stop the overstimulation. “S-Sammy-“
“-Ah,” he cuts you off, pulling your hand away and flattening his hand out over your inner thigh, pushing your legs apart. “Baby doll thought I was done?”
A constant stream of whimpers huff out of you with short bursts of breath. You can feel your clit throbbing against Sam’s thumb, the overstimulation twisting into pleasure with the littlest hint of pain.
“You wanted me to talk to you all low and soft and pretty…” Sam taunts, moving with your squirming body, following every jerk. “And make you cum all over my fingers, but now you can’t take it? My little sensitive girl.”
The shudder that shakes through your body at his words, draws a low, raspy chuckle from Sam’s chest.
“Oh? Someone liked that, didn’t she?” Sam continues his relentless taunting, pulling his soaked fingers out to circle your clit.
Opening your mouth with the intention to answer him, all that manages to come out is a breathy whine. A noise so high pitched and desperate sounding, you might be the slightest bit embarrassed about it, when you think back on it later.
Sam’s lips curve up into a shit eating smirk, far too pleased at the sounds and reactions he’s pulling from you. And it’s so easy.
He leans in, mocking the airy, high pitched noise you just made, directly into your ear.
“F-fuck yo- u-oh, fuck,” you stutter, moaning and stumbling over your own words as Sam quickens the circles over your bundle of nerves. “
“Oh, fuck.” It’s parroted right back to you, his voice mimicking yours; sweet and needy.
Why the way he mocks you turns you on so much more, you aren’t exactly sure. You haven’t the brain power to ponder on it, yet, either.
That sweet and most welcomed burn reforms in the pits of your belly, just waiting for the perfect pass of Sam’s fingers to unravel and take over your whole body once again.
“I’m so close, Sammy,” you warn, gripping at the blanket beneath you with one hand and the pillow behind your head with your other. “Please, don’t stop. Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.”
“Don’t stop? Don’t stop what?” He knows exactly what you mean. “Don’t stop talking to you, or don’t stop pleasing this throbbing little clit?”
“Sammy…” It trots out of you through a whimper.
“Gonna make you cum one more time before I give it to you.” Sam says, as though it isn’t up for debate. And at this point, it isn’t. “That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
Your back arches off the mattress, the pleasure finally taking over your body in a second orgasm.
“That’s right, gorgeous,” Sam practically groans. “Let it all go for me. My pretty, messy, princess. Absolutely fucking gorgeous when you cum for me like this.”
Sam’s lips are suddenly colliding with yours in a searing kiss, capturing all your little noises right in his mouth.
As soon as he feels your body start to jolt, he eases his skilled fingers from your clit, sliding them down through your wetness to bring up to his watering mouth.
“Jesus christ, you taste so fucking good.” Sam sinks your fingers in and out of his mouth, watching you watch him.
You’ve watched him do it before, but it never fails to completely wipe all coherent thoughts from your mind -no matter how many times you’ve seen him do it- to watch him be so filthy.
Dropping his hand from your mouth, he wraps it loosely around your neck, just barely squeezing as he leans down to reconnect your lips.
You can taste yourself all over his lips. It’s an addicting combination of your own release and the aftertastes of mint on his tongue. Creating a sweet, spicy, concoction out of the two of you. Fitting.
“Tell me, baby doll,” Sam calls gently for your attention. “You want me here again?” His fingers trace over your lips ever so lightly. “Or here?” His hand travels down your body, tracing over your folds with the same featherlight touch, before dipping down to gather more of your wetness and begin slowly stroking over your clit again.
Your body jolts and convulses on its own accord, making Sam laugh lowly at you and your bodies way of displaying its sensitivity.
“Awe, is it too much for you now, doll?” Sam teases, lips dragging over the center of your throat. “Has this poor little clit had enough?”
“Need you inside me.” You raise your hips, trying to press yourself against his cock, visibly straining against his sweatpants. “Fuck me, Sammy, please.”
“I’ll give you whatever you want, when you beg that pretty.” Sam removes both hands from your body, tucking them into the hem of his boxers, shoving them down his legs hastily.
Taking himself in his hand, a shaky exhale flutters out of Sam. His eyes close, hair falling around his face as he continues to lose himself with each stroke of his own hand.
At last, he pulls himself back together and guides himself through your folds, letting out a deep, breathy, groan at the feeling of how wet you are.
“F-fuck,” Sam mutters, shakily trying to line himself up with your entrance.
Your jaw falls slack, as he pushes himself into you with a smooth thrust of his hips.
“Oh, m-my god…” Your words barely stutter out loud enough for Sam to hear.
Sam brings himself down above you, using one of his forearms to hold his body just above yours. His other hand slips up to tangle into your hair, tilting your head back against the pillows.
“Move, Sammy, please move.” Your voice is pathetic, dripping in desperation and submissiveness.
“What if I make you wait?” He questions slyly, pulling back just enough to look you in the eyes. “What if we stayed just like this and I just talk to you some more? Tell you how amazing you feel wrapped around my cock, until you cum all over it just from my words?”
“Sam, I swear to god…” You try to fight back, wanting nothing more than for him to just move and fuck you completely senseless.
“You clearly love the idea,” Sam points out. “And you love when I talk to you like this. I know that’s why you squirm every time I hold you close and say little things in your ear. Why do you think I’ve started doing that more often? You think I don’t notice how your breath catches when I say even the most mundane things right in your ear?”
“You’re right, I love it,” you say through a fresh wave of whimpers that are tearing through your throat and filling up the room. You’ll always soak up his praises like a plant starving for water.
“I fucking…love it…”
Sam tugs at your earlobe with his teeth. “You’re clenched so tight around me…I could cum in you right now.”
Now that…
That strikes a new nerve, causing you to arch your body into Sam’s followed by a noise reminiscent of a sob.
“Oh, fuck me…” Sam curses, fist tightening in your hair as you flutter around his already throbbing cock.
Unable to wait any longer, Sam begins to rock his hips, slowly dragging himself in and out of you. The burn of him stretching you out rips another unholy sound from your lungs - one that he accidentally mimics, but in a much deeper tone.
“My sweet baby doll, making me feel so good.” Sam picks up the speed and depth of his thrusts. “You love on my cock so well, don't you? You're always just so, so sweet to it."
Sam’s head falls against your shoulder, short huffs of uneven breaths hitting your neck and adding yet another sensation to the pile.
Your hands reach around his body, one tangling in his soft tresses, while the other claws it’s way down to the center of his back - surely leaving flaming red marks in its wake.
“Pull it,” he groans, tilting his head back ever so slightly, to ensure you know exactly want he means.
You oblige without missing a beat, tightening the hand tangled in his hair and tugging it firmly.
“Fuck, goddamn,” Sam sputters, delivering a particularly deep thrust into you, making you gasp and choke on the words you’re trying to form.
“What's that? You feeling good?” Sam fires questions at you breathlessly. Later you’ll probably wonder how he manages to stay together enough to form full, coherent sentences.
“You want to tell me about it? About how my cock is filling you up so good? How you can feel me here?" He lays his hand over your stomach, splayed out and applying the littlest bit of pressure.
You open your mouth to speak, babble some barely understandable praises and call out his name over and over again. Yet, nothing comes out. Your mouth simply hangs open, not even a hint of a sound coming forth from your lungs; they simply hold captive any air left within them as Sammy relentlessly fucks you.
“Tell me, baby, tell me how good it feels,” Sam smirks cockily, knowing full well that you can’t. “You can't even talk, huh? Am I fucking you speechless, doll face?"
“S-so close,” you gasp, both hands gripping at Sam’s shoulders now in hopes that you will stay anchored to earth.
“Are you? Tell me you’re gonna cum so pretty for me,” Sam demands, snaking his hand between your two bodies to rub hasty circles over your bundle of nerves. “Say it for me.”
It takes every part of your body to form the words for him. “I-I’m gonna cum s-so pretty for you, Sammy.”
“You want me to talk you through it? Huh?” Sam’s voice is dripping with sex, low and smooth as silk. “Yeah, I'm gonna talk you through it, baby."
A few more deep thrusts of his hips and passes of his calloused fingertips over your hyper sensitive clit, is all it takes to unravel you.
“Come on, cum for me, sweet girl. Cum for me.” Sam coaxes.
The way you clench around him, suffocating his cock, dragging him to his own high right behind you, has him sucking a long breath through his teeth before he can even speak.
“That’s it, baby doll. Fuck, there it is.” He’s hardly keeping it together above you, determined to work you through most of your orgasm before he allows himself to fall into his own. “That’s my good girl, so fucking pretty making a mess all over me. My gorgeous, messy, baby doll.”
You can hear him, faintly, as you ride out your seemingly never ending climax. And God, do you love when he calls you ‘baby doll.’
Just as you start to come down, Sam’s thrust become sloppy and sporadic, signaling that he’s reached his own high.
“Where do-“
You cut him off before he even finishes his sentence. “-Inside me. Let me have it, please, pretty boy.”
“Oh, fuck…” he draws the word out, rough and airy. “Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-“
His hips rock into lazily a few more times, the obscene sounds of both of your releases, bouncing off the four walls of your room.
“How the fuck does this manage to happen every night,” Sam huffs jokingly, slowly pulling out and collapsing beside you, still fighting to catch his breath.
“It might not if your voice wasn’t always dripping with sex appeal every time you open your mouth,” you jest right back.
“What?” Sam gasps, feigning shock, but fighting back a smile. “So you only fuck me for my voice? How low of you, doll.”
“You’re right,” you admit, grinning at him. “I don’t just fuck you for your voice… I also fuck you for your pretty face.”
Sam wraps his arms around your waist, tugging you into him with a pleased smile. “Mm. That’s fair enough, I do have a pretty face.”
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theweightofdreamz · 10 months
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here are some josh photos that have sent me into a spiral recently
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pondering
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nelkcats · 1 year
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Family Traditions
The Mansons and the Waynes always had a...rocky relationship. Starting with Alfred facing off against Ida on the battlefield during his time in the British secret service. And cursing when the girl scurried out of his sight.
Although they no longer wanted to kill each other (maybe, they had children to take care of), their rivalry prevailed, and they could start fighting over anything. It was one of the reasons Ida attended to the Wayne Gala and only the Wayne gala. Just to upset the butler.
And this didn't just stay with them, Pamela HATED Bruce Wayne (and the feeling was mutual). They attended galas since they were kids and he was the most fucking annoying person she knew. She couldn't believe how he fooled everyone with "the playboy Brucie", he was obnoxious. And smarter than people gave him credit for. (Also, Pamela was pretty sure he was gay anyway)
Sam didn't want to follow this family tradition but when Damian Wayne tried to stab her with a cooking knife (after she kindly gave him an advice, taking responsibility as the eldest between them), the war begun, again.
Danny started attending those galas only to see things explode after being told this piece of information by Sam. The entire Manson family knew about it but the Waynes had no idea why the Masters heir was there. He even brought popcorn!
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luminous-studiess · 11 months
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bringing you gentle vibes from a midnight finals session. if you’ve started studying later than you’d planned, it’s okay-- take a deep breath and begin.
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pratchettquotes · 5 months
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But trolls and dwarfs had been fighting for centuries. Ending that sort of thing took more than a handshake. It was just a symbol.
On the other hand...the world wasn't moved by heroes or villains or even by policemen. It might as well be moved by symbols. All he knew was that you couldn't hope to try for the big stuff, like world peace and happiness, but you might just about be able to achieve some tiny deed that'd make the world, in a small way, a better place.
Like shooting someone.
Terry Pratchett, The Fifth Elephant
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sweetbuckybarnes · 3 months
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Who is This? - Back to Brooklyn
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Summary: Bucky and Y/N Barnes go back to Brooklyn.
Main | Bucky Masterlist | Series
Authors note: was thinking of changing the series title to Babydoll? Any thoughts?
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It was Y/N's last shift at the bar in Madripoor, as the owners surprised them with the sudden closure of the bar at the end of the working week.
Bucky and Sam (who was somewhat reluctant to come along) walked into the bar ten minutes before closing. They saw Y/N dancing behind the bar with the blonde curly-haired woman and a redhead woman, as they sang along with the title track from Lady Marmalade - it was one Sam had forced Bucky to watch.
"Voulez-vous coucher avec mou, ce soir? Voulez-vous coucher avec moi?" The three women sang as Bucky and Sam made their way to the bartop.
"You do know what that means, don't you, babydoll?" Bucky asks, looking at his wife with a smirk.
She looks over at him with a matching smirk. "I'm surprised you know what it means, considering you were always skipping French class for that girl Dotty."
The smirk on Bucky's face slipped like a mask. "You knew about that?" His face pales considerably.
"Oh, please, James. I didn't know until you confirmed it," she tells him, leaning over and pressing a kiss to his nose. She had very nearly played him when Bucky reached his hands up to cup her face and plant a kiss on her lips.
When he pulled away, he looked her dead in the eyes. "I swear to you, babydoll, nothing happened with Dotty. Nothing happened with any of them. I know I had a bit of a reputation-"
Y/N snorted. "A bit? I'm pretty sure there was writing on the girls' bathroom at the diner. For a good time, find James Barnes. You were a total ladies' man."
"There was only one lady I wanted, and I married her."
"She better not find you here with me then. I think she might get very jealous."
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Bucky chuckled to himself as the group behind the bar completed their shift for the final time. Y/N was counting the money in the till as Yasmine stood beside her with a calculator counting card receipts, whilst Mark went to properly lock the door (unlike last time when Bucky was able to get in).
Y/N finished counting the money and then looked at their manager (who had made a surprise visit, most likely to make sure they all got paid).
Their manager started counting out the money for their wages, as Y/N walked over to where Bucky and Sam were standing, waiting for her. "How are you, babydoll?" Bucky asks her, wrapping his metal arm around her waist and running his fingers through her hair - they had learnt what happens when Bucky's metal hand gets entangled with her hair. Safe to say, that was a somewhat embarrassing situation...
"I'm OK," she says half-heartedly. "I'm just going to have to find somewhere new to work," she tells him, as her manager hands her a small stack of $50s and $20s.
"Why don't you come back to Brooklyn with me?" He offers, slipping her purse from her shoulder, before handing over her wallet from said purse.
Y/N considers this. "Why not? It would be a nice change from this place."
Bucky tightly wrapped his arms around his wife. "You coming home with me, babydoll?"
"Did you honestly expect anything else?"
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Bucky unlocked the door to his apartment, holding Y/N's suitcase in one hand with his backpack thrown over his shoulder.
"Welcome home, babydoll," he tells her, watching as his wife walks into the apartment. He sets down her suitcase and his bag as she takes a look around the room.
"James?"
"Yeah, babydoll?"
"What's that?"
'That' she was referring to just so happened to be the pile of sheets and lone pillowcase on the floor.
How the hell does he explain this to his wife...?
"Erm... that's where I sleep."
"Where's your bed?"
"In the bedroom," he says, looking away from her to their belongings.
He didn't see Y/N pursed her lips and mull over his words. For all he knew, they were going to be sleeping in separate places until he could finally deem himself worthy of sleeping in the same bed as his wife.
"James? Where did you go, my love?" She asks, which is when Bucky notices she is toe-to-toe with him, cradling his face with her hands. "You completely missed what I was saying."
"I'm sorry, babydoll."
She giggled and pressed a kiss to his nose before looking at him in his eyes. "We're going to take this at your speed, I don't mind sleeping on the floor, I just want to make sure you know you can talk to me and tell me when you're ready to sleep on the sofa and then possibly in our bed."
Bucky is silent as he takes her words in. What did he do to deserve her? He couldn't even form words to tell her just how much he loves her. So, he wrapped her up in the tightest hug known, hoping it was enough for her to understand the depth of his feelings.
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socksandbuttons · 4 months
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Dad eclipse, why are you so hot?
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*DadClipse doesn't understand your tastes.
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monstersandbrothers · 2 months
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god I love late seasons Sam. That is the softest man in the world
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incredibly important to me. actually.
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theweightofdreamz · 4 months
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it’s a jake kinda day
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