cametobuyplums-gone-deactivated
Congrats on the milestone! It's so cool that it falls on Bucky's birthday, too! You deserve every single follower and more. I adore all your writing😍 how about a Cop!Bucky AU, maybe the reader is on a bacholerette party for a friend at the weekend when Buck's on patrol and things get a little wild. Then, she shows up on the Monday and she's his new boss or something😅
Hello, my sweet pea! Oh gosh, thank you! Je t’aime, je t’aime! 💕
Now, this is perfect timing considering the photos of Sebastian on set for The Devil All the Time. I’m going to go full filth for this one.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: smut (18+ only)
- Sunday night, stray shouts of merriment ringing through the air as Bucky sighs from the comfort of his patrol car. A rowdy bachelorette party is the last thing he’d like to deal with right now.
- He dreads meeting his new Captain tomorrow morning. A job that should have been his. An involuntary stab of hate towards this nameless, faceless figure.
- Recently divorced, too. The spark in his relationship fizzled out some time ago. A number of reasons. Natasha spending more time at work. Bucky letting himself go a bit. Natasha losing interest in sex with him. Bucky’s belly rounding out, thighs softening. Natasha announcing she’d met someone else. Bucky no longer caring.
- The icing on the cake, it’s his 36th birthday and he’s on the graveyard shift.
- A pretty, younger woman who he catches in his arms when her high heels snag on a loose paving stone. A musical giggle, a flurry of perfume. He steadies you on your feet.
- Less than impressed at your disorderly behaviour, but impossible to be angry with because you’re beautiful. And you’re looking at him like you want to eat him.
- “Evening, officer.”
- Technically, it’s Sergeant. He corrects you, stern in tone as he scolds you for drunken shenanigans so late on a Sunday night. A haughty protest, you insist you’re not drunk, just tipsy.
- Delicate little fingers run down his chest and over the belly that strains his light blue shirt. You’re still smiling seductively. His pulse quickens.
- “Have I been a bad girl, Sergeant?”
- Handcuffs dangle off your finger, his handcuffs. Scrabbling, he realises you swiped them from his belt.
- “How the hell- ?”
- Giggles, coy and sexy. The opposite of what he needs, it’s hard to think straight when you’re hanging off him.
- Purring in his ear. He tells himself you only find him attractive because you’re drunk.
- “I’m not drunk!”
- You walk in a perfect straight line. Pass all the other tests too. You’re not drunk.
- Driving you home is a bad idea. Your hand rests on his thigh. You’re sipping the coffee in his flask, he makes you because he needs to be sure you’re sober. He won’t do this otherwise.
- Not that he should be doing it in the first place. But you’re gorgeous. It’s been so long since he’s been with a woman. Even longer since one showed any attraction to him, not since he’s softened around the middle.
- The front door shuts with an almighty thud when you push him against it, lips finding his in a bruising kiss that has him hard as a fucking rock.
- Jacket pushed off his shoulders, buttons popping as you tear his shirt open, tie thrown across the room. A rough growl, his hands find your thighs, lifting you in the air and you’re giggling in delight as he stumbles down the dark hallway with you in his arms, hands cupping your ass.
- Bucky’s consumed by desire already, your ass soft but firm in his large hands. Your breasts pressed against his chest, nipples pebbled and visible through your dress.
- “You’ve been a real bad girl, sugar.”
- “Are you going to punish me, Sergeant?”
- Naked, on your hands and knees. It’s utterly dirty, a fantasy he’s never been allowed to explore before. Your moans, they follow each harsh spank. Precome seeps through the front of his boxers.
- “You’re a bad girl, sugar. Bad girls get spanked.”
- “Yes, Sarge.”
- Bucky’s brain short circuits, driven by nothing except his wildest dreams. You’re fucking gorgeous, ass in the air and already begging for his cock. It has him thinking of all the depraved things he wants to do to you.
- “I oughta arrest you.”
- “Please, Sarge. I’ll do anything.”
- A sight he’ll never forget. You on your knees, tears streaming because you have your pretty lips wrapped around his thick cock.
- “Suck my cock, sugar. Yeah, just like that. Fuck, you should see how pretty you look right now. Mouth full of my cock. You love it, don’t you, you dirty girl?”
- You bob your head, tongue swirling over his tip. One hand rakes down his soft belly. A moan of happiness. Then you’re cupping his balls, fondling them as his cock hits the back of your throat.
- Bucky’s never come so hard before. He gasps, come spilling down your throat. A few drops dribble down your chin and on to your breasts. It’s so goddamn filthy, something he’s only ever seen in the porn he’s become reacquainted with.
- He catches a drop on his thumb. Tongue darts out, drawing his thumb into your mouth and you suck the come off it, all the while keeping your eyes on his. Bucky’s cock twitches with renewed arousal.
- “I’m gonna punish you all night long, sugar.”
- Monday morning, a smile on his face. Sam and Steve find him grinning like a fool at the precinct. A smile that’s certainly not for the new Captain.
- Sordid secrets spill, including the one where Bucky handcuffed you to the bed and fucked you raw.
- Guilt, a terrible pang of it because he snuck out before you woke up. No name, no number. Sam berates him. Steve merely blushes.
- They have a surprise for him, having missed his birthday what with clashing shifts. A stack of donuts, candles haphazardly poked into it. Bucky cringes when they sing off-key.
- Former Captain, Nick Fury calls for attention. Bucky’s battling with the donut glaze smeared across his mouth. Sweet, almost as sweet as you.
- You? You.
- A proud stance as you thank Fury for the introduction. You’re pleased to join the Brooklyn precinct as the new Captain.
- “Sergeant, can I see you in my office?”
- A blushing mess, heart racing uncontrollably and cock stirring even though it’s so wrong.
- Bucky finds himself in the chair opposite your desk. Handcuffs swiped from his belt again. He’s cuffed to the chair.
- That look again, the one that has him groaning because your hungry gaze promises to devour him.
- Donut glaze is licked from his lips. You hum at the taste.
- “Sneaking out on a lady like that? You’ve been a bad boy, Sarge. And bad boys get punished.”
fuckthisbloganditscurses
Happiness Will Come To You.
gaymacs
when tho
sandvendor100
When You Least Expect It. Probably Late March
reblog for happiness to come for you in late march!
voidfished
I reblogged this last year and I hung out with blink-182 backstage on March 30. Reblogging again because it worked the first time.
honestly, last year one of the best days of my life happened in late March
until-it-killss
L a t e m a r c h = March 22
I have one of the biggest hair conferences in the States the last weekend of March and I’m gonna meet some hugely influencential people in my industry. So please, for the love of all that is good in the universe. Late March.
Sing Me To Sleep
Pairing: Bucky x Reader
Summary: Bucky meets a lovely stranger on a commercial flight.
Word Count: 2,062 - One Shot
Bucky fidgeted in his seat as he waited for them to close the cabin doors. No one back at the compound understood why he took commercial flights anywhere. They had jets of their own. They could practically take off and go anywhere at anytime.
But when Bucky wasn’t on a mission, he refused to use that privilege.
Sometimes, he just needed to get away from the soldier’s life.
When missions got a little too bad, he escaped.
This is so damn cute, I love your work so much, hun! It always cheers me up! ❤
Rome, 3AM || Part Seven
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: Before he was found in Bucharest, Bucky lived next door to you in Rome trying to evade remnants of Hydra. Every night at 3AM you find Bucky smoking his usual cigarettes and trying his best to flirt. However, as time goes on he becomes more careless about staying hidden.
Warnings: big reveal of who reader’s stepdad is, intense? flashback answers questions, death
Word Count: 2,246
A/N: this one is long and angsty so buckle the heck up, I did warn you that stuff was about to get real and the narrative is slowly unfolding
Your step-dad wasn’t the warmest of people, but he wasn’t that way when he first met your mother. He was kind, treated you both well, never let on his true intentions. He took you to the theatre every weekend, prepared your meals, and that was about where it ended. Looking back, it was easier to see just how small his efforts were to keep the lie afloat.
He let you figure out a little too late that he had used you both. Familial ties was something every high government position looked for, without saying it, and he needed one to become head of Shield. You and your mother were the perfect ruse.
Little Wonders
Pairing: 40s!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: After Steve died, Bucky was left with a hole in his heart. When he returned home, however, it was filled two times over.
Warnings: 40s!bucky, mention of death, heckin adorableness
Word Count: 2,066
A/N: this was a request for 40s!bucky returning home from the war to his wife and child. it is based off of the song of the same title, listening to it while reading might make you cry js (re-uploaded because my tumblr got deleted)
He’d done it.
It went without saying that every soldier had done it before leaving. They’d be parting from their wives without a date telling them when or if they’d ever come back.
That was three years ago.
Bucky ran the pad of his thumb across the nails of his other fingers in a nervous habit. He was thinking about every letter you’d sent since 1942. They were all folded up in his pack and tied with a string for security. Those letters had become the most precious things to him, next to your picture.
Specifically, Bucky was thinking about the fifth letter you’d sent him; the one where you found out your were bearing his child. After everything that had happened, you were the one thing that brought him joy. Now, there would be two things. Especially with Steve being gone.
I'M SO IN LOVE. This brought me to tears, happy ones, and I adore it, it was so full and happy, but also had that sense of longing.
You're an amazing writer, hun 💓💓💓💓💓
I’ll Be Home For Christmas | OS | b.b.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: Bucky had a promise. And he wasn’t one to not fulfill them.
Word Count: 4.2k
Warnings: So much fluff that you wouldn’t think it would last
A/N: Two days late, but I eventually made it! This is especially dedicated to @wi-atch, who has been looking forward to it!!!!!!!! :D
I’ll be home for Christmas
You can count on me
Your hands hadn’t stopped shaking for hours.
The warmth from the fireplace had filled the room long ago, meaning it wasn’t from the cold.
It was a quarter past eight on Christmas morning. The smell of brewed coffee and burning wood filled the little house you dwelled. For some reason, you couldn’t sleep the night before. You could recall when you were a child and you stayed up all night from the excitement of the gifts you would wake up to from Santa in the morning. But this time, it wasn’t excitement that kept you awake. It was anxiety.
The house was decorated from top to bottom with Christmas decorations. Though the outside lights weren’t hung for the second year in a row, you got them hanging in the living room. The glow they left, plus the illumination from the fireplace, left the room well lit and looking gorgeous. Hanging from the mantle were two stockings knitted by yourself. Although you were still learning, they turned out a lot better than you had expected.
The snowfall out the window was heavy, a sight you would’ve been more excited for if circumstances were different.
This is literally the best thing I've ever read, I'm not even joking. I love sad fics, absolutely adore them and this one was just perfect, I love the amount of emotion poured on it, how there were lights of happiness and that "it's gonna be okay" tone but then, that flowing river of reality, ad it is so pure and raw, it just got me shivering and crying quietly. Hun, I've got to say, I am in love with this and will certainly read it again, I've had a rough time these weeks, felt kinda numb, but this just gave me that rush of emotions that I needed and I love it! You're an amazing writer, truly. Thank you for making this. 💕💕💕
A little blurby/drabble thing because I have had this on my laptop for a while and never thought it was good enough to post but apparently I have no impulse control so here we are. Lemme know if you like it?
Pairing: Bucky x medic!reader
Warnings: Blood, lots of mentions of blood. Angst. What could be classified as a panic attack. BUT THERE’S FLUFF TOO I PROMISE eek
“You shouldn’t be out of bed.” Those are the first words you say to him. It’s all you can think of when he strolls through the glass doors and onto the balcony as if this hasn’t been a horrible day.
“I’m fine. I heal quick,” he mumbles, but you don’t miss the wince of pain, or the hand pressed to his ribs. “You shouldn’t be smoking.”
You let a stream of smoke escape your lips, letting the cigarette hang precariously between your fingers. “Needed a break.”
“Busy night?” he attempted to joke.
“You think?” you chuckled passively, letting your heavy head rest on the wall behind you. Your eyes squeezed shut, your body subconsciously longing for sleep. “There are countless agents in there. I’m used to fixing up a few people. This? This was…” it could’ve been a massacre.
You didn’t want to say those words out loud. You weren’t sure if you could without collapsing into a mess of tears and dirty scrubs. So you just stopped speaking. You felt him reach forward, plucking the smoke from your hand and taking a drag.
“A lot”, he continued for you, “today was a lot.”
That wasn’t the worst part. You both knew it wasn’t the mass of the agents that was affecting you so much.
It was Steve – unconscious and bleeding.
Nat – soaked in her own blood and struggling through every breath.
Sam – just minutes away from losing a leg, conscious but clearly in pain.
Bucky – broken and bruised and not opening his goddamn eyes.
All of them, relying on your shaking hands.
“Yeah,” you finally agreed, your fingers twitching with the desire to take the cigarette back.
You didn’t want to feel like this – your vulnerability bubbling at the surface, brimming behind your eyelids, pulsing in your head. You could still smell the coppery scent of blood, flooding your senses and sparking the ache in your temples. You could still hear the chaotic ER, the beeping heart monitors the familiar noises of oncoming fatalities.
Bucky fell against the wall beside you, a quiet thump echoed across the balcony. You could tell he didn’t have full control of his sore body – his jarred movements juxtaposed the careful nature you were so used to. A few hours ago you couldn’t wake him up, and now he has the audacity to claim good health?
You force your eyes open with the intention to push him away, tell him to rest, but you catch sight of your own hands first. Red and brown stain the lines on your palms, hide in the edges of your nails and peak out from underneath them, caked in the places that you can’t clean.
A shaky breath escapes your lips.
You get lost in it – tracing the lines with your eyes, flickering to where the stains are deeper, darker, more bloody. They blur and you don’t know if it’s because you’re about to cry or because you feel like you can’t breathe. You can’t tear your eyes away, and suddenly it’s all you can see, it’s all just red.
You squeeze your eyes shut.
The muscles in your fingers seem to pulse – overworked by the hours you had spent in there. You rub them together harshly, scratching violently at the dark lines because at least then it will be your blood soaking the skin, not theirs. You couldn’t have your friends’ blood on your hands.
You felt your body tense when something moved in your peripheral vision. You had forgotten Bucky was right beside you, watching your every move. His hands were on yours in seconds, pulling them away from each other, the cigarette long-forgotten and crushed on the pavement.
Your mind flashed back – cold hands, fresh, sticky blood, Bucky’s closed eyes and they just won’t open.
Your eyes open when you feel the warm pressure around your fingers and suddenly you’re staring into Bucky’s eyes. Alive. The blue of his irises is shimmering with vitality, specks of grey and silver swimming in the ocean of blue and his expression is full of worry and concern and confusion but you don’t care because he’s here. He’s alive.
His lips are moving – probably asking you if you’re okay, but you’re too preoccupied with his warm hands on yours and his eyes – you hadn’t even realised how much you had missed them, the feeling of getting lost in them, like you tend to do so often.
“Hey, are you okay? How long has it been since you slept?”
“I love you.” The words slipped through your lips, not giving you a chance to hold them back. Once they were out, you wondered why you had waited so long. “I love you so much and seeing you in there– seeing you unconscious and not waking up I thought… I thought maybe…”
“Hey, I’m right here,” one hand. Stayed, squeezing your fingers gently whilst the other came up to rest own your jaw, “I’m right here, and I’m alive.”
You leaned forward letting your head hit his chest.
“I’m not gonna lie, I probably need some sleep,” you mumbled, feeling his finger move to the back of your head and gently run at your scalp. “And for you to never be that close to death again, okay?”
“Near-death experiences seem to have a way of catching up to me, but I’ll try my best.”
You stood like that for a while, just letting the moon drift through sky above you, letting your breath even out and listening to his heartbeat. His hands never left your skin, stroking your arms or rubbing your shoulders or playing with your hair. At some point you yawned into his shoulder and he intertwined your fingers with his and pulled you towards the door.
“Let’s go to bed.”
You nodded sleepily, the exhaustion finally catching up with you as he dragged you back inside.
“I love you too, y’know?” The words were loud in the quiet halls but and you felt a smile tugging at your lips. You’d go through it all, everything, all over agin, if it meant you could hear those words again. If it meant you could see that look on his face again. You didn’t need to though, because he leant forward, pressed a kiss to your head and mumbled int you hair, “I love you so damn much.”
This is way too soft for my poor heart, I love a good angst with fluff, it was so pure and simple and yet filled with emotion, you got my eyes watering here. Love it! ❤❤❤
this is the money dog, repost in the next 24 hours and money will come your way!!
requiem-4-a-drink-deactivated20
hope your pets stay healthy in 2017
I almost didn’t blog this and felt guilty
ckascade
Not risking it
hope ya pets even healthier in 2018
hope your pets discover immortality in 2019
castastic-trench-coat
I wish the person who I reblogged this from happiness, good eyebrows, and clear skin.
SOMEONE REBLOG THIS FROM ME PLEASE
I LOVE THIS SO MUCH, IT'S SO CUTE I CAN'T TAKE IT! That moment when he asked for words had me MELTING, I'm so in love with this, and so excited for more! Great job, hun! ❤
realbucky
Anonymous asked:
“i’m sorry. i don’t know why i’m so sad all the time.”
“Do you— would you be happier if I left?”
“What?” You looked up from your book, staring at Bucky as he stood in the doorway of the bedroom.
“I can leave, if that’s what you want. Sometimes I feel like you keep things from me because you think I can’t handle it, or I’ll get overwhelmed or panic. But if you need me to leave, I can.”
You were silent for a moment, then shook your head. “No. That’s not what I need.”
He nodded, coming over and sitting on the edge of your bed. He tucked your feet into his lap, massaging them carefully as he looked over at you. “What’s wrong, then.”
You shrugged, closing your book. “I don’t know. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m sad all the time.”
Bucky shifted closer, laying beside you and tucking his head into your chest. You ran your fingers through his hair, just listening to his breathing. “Just give me time, okay?”
“I can wait. Whatever you need,” he murmured, eyes drifting shut as you lightly scratched at his scalp.
You closed your own eyes, feeling his arm drape across your waist and a hand slide up your shirt, his warm hand against your side. He didn’t say anything else, just held you and let you play with his hair.
“Don’t leave,” you whispered.
This is one of my favorite works??? It's so pure and filled with emotion, it actually made my eyes water and got me shivering! I absolutely love it! I really needed that rush of emotions on a dull moment like today. ❤😍
do-not-touch-my-food
1 - gives kibble to dogs in shelters with a single click
2 - gives 10 pieces of kibble to dogs in shelters, whether you get the question right or not
3 - gives 10 pieces of kibble to cats in shelters, whether you get the question right or not
4 - gives cat litter to cats in shelters with a single click
alicetookadrink
*opens 4 new tabs*
the cat litter one makes little noises after you click it and it’s so cute.
this is the text of good fortune, reblog in 60 seconds and $1200 will spontaneously materialize in your bank account🙏🙌💪🏻😤
thug-gifs
Reblog this within 10 seconds and unexpected extra money will cum to you this week
12-amu
The money will do what now
mulled it over for 9 ½ seconds
I’ll take a whole bukake, thank you.
“Why don’t you get the book with the movie poster cover?”
me:
ok universe, i’m ready to feel good things. make me feel good things.
wethinkwedream
whenever i post this it works reblog if u want to feel good things & the universe will bring u something sweet