Summary: You leave bed before Bucky can say good morning.
Word count: 1.8 K
Pairing: Art Dealer (mob boss) Bucky Barnes x Reader
A/N: This drabble is in the Knock You Down AU, and is the answer to this ask. Please let me know how you feel by commenting, reblogging, and interacting. 😉
Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. Smut! Frumoasă is pregnant, Bucky is feral. Not Beta'd. All errors my own.
I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘
I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.
_____
If Bucky could mainline you straight to his veins, he would. He woke up feening and alone.
The moment he stepped into his en suite that morning, which was your bathroom now too, a primal pull drew him on a string to you.
You were standing at the mirror trying to tame your hair in just white cotton panties and Bucky’s dress shirt from the day before, partly for use as a robe, but mostly for his smell.
At the sight of you in his shirt, diamond on your finger, pregnant with his child, something in his chest tightened.
Mine he thought.
You tried to focus on fixing your hair, but the weight of his gaze on you in the mirror was distracting as hell. There were a few other things that had changed about you in the last few weeks: your appetite, your energy level, but the best and the worst was your sex drive.
“You’re staring again,” you murmured, meeting his gaze in the mirror and trying to pretend you didn’t want him to slut you out.
“Sorry,” offered Bucky, who was leaning on the wall behind you, smirking and probably reading your mind.
He was definitely not sorry.
“Can’t help it, Frumoasă.”
You raised an eyebrow at him over your shoulder at his cracked voice.
“You can’t?”
You destroyed him with a look. He couldn’t take how beautiful you were. You standing there, no makeup, all that hair, his white shirt and panties. He never knew that Jockey that made lingerie to turn him on, but here you were.
And Bucky was so weak for you.
“No. I can’t. You’re too beautiful.”
But the way he was looking at you, eyes burning you, that tongue peeking out of his mouth as if recalling your taste on his lips; it made you shiver.
Bucky strode toward you, so gotdamn handsome in the mirror that you didn’t want to turn around and see the real thing.
He was clad only in low slung grey sweatpants, the bulge in them growing by the second, his abs standing out, his tiny nipples erect. The medal on his golden skin gleamed and you longed to bite it between your teeth as he stroked his thick cock inside you.
Bucky Barnes’ blue gaze had you in a chokehold.
Fuck, you wished he would choke you while he fucked you hard, but he stopped with the breath play the moment he found out you were pregnant.
Your eyes glazed over and your mouth dropped open in a small pant as your pussy clenched down on nothing, thinking of how Bucky handled you on his cock.
“What’s going on in that head of yours, Frumoasă?” Bucky teased, eyes locked on you when you turned your dreamy eyes on him.
You pretended you didn’t notice and refocused on arranging your curls. The sharp points of your breasts under his shirt might have been a clue however, and if he could see between your legs, he might have ascertained a wet spot.
Bucky’s voice was low and rough around the edges as he moved closer to you, watching as you as your fingers pulled through your hair again, your arms akimbo and offering the perfect view of your body.
He also didn’t miss the smile that played on your lips after what he asked. He knew what you were thinking.
Your hands fell from your thick hair to your hips and your eyes zeroed in on his bulge.
“My eyes are up here, Baby.”
Bucky’s firm hands were sliding over your hips now, pulling you back against him. His lips brushed your shoulder.
Slow. Lazy. Possessive.
His hands moved to your belly, his fingers spreading possessively over the softness there. There was only the slightest change, but Bucky noticed everything. His breath moved over your neck and made you shiver as he kept eye contact in the mirror.
“Bucky… got to get ready,” you murmured, trying to ignore the way his fingers smoothed down the curve of your waist.
“Not yet…”
A hand slid under the hem of the shirt. You inhaled shakily.
“I woke up, and you weren’t in bed.”
His voice was low, rough, and thick with desire.
You swallowed hard.
“Because I was getting ready to—“
“You’re supposed to be in my arms,” he interrupted.
His words sent heat through your body as his hands tightened on your hips. And you felt him, hard, ready, and pressing against you from behind.
You gripped the vanity with trembling fingers. He chuckled, his hips pressing into you.
“You’re wearing my shirt, looking like this, carrying my baby. You’re killing me,” he looked up at you in the mirror those blue eyes destroying your soul.
“You know that right? You drive me crazy,” he murmured, voice thick with need as his hands glided higher over your ribs, fingertips tracing the sensitive skin beneath your breasts.
You gasped, body weak against the hard planes of his torso and Bucky groaned, his large hands extending and gripping your nipples gently. He rolled them lightly, his hands working under his shirt, and a moan escaped you.
“Fuck, you’re sensitive, aren’t you?”
You didn’t have time to respond before he spun you around, lifted you on top of the counter, and stepped between your legs. Bucky’s hands slid up your thighs, pushing them wider.
And just like that, going out was forgotten because Bucky was between your legs, his long, hard cock pressing against your melting pussy, kissing you like he was starving. His palms were hot on your skin, fingers gripping, claiming, and dragging you closer.
You gasped into his mouth, and he deepened the hot, slow, and delicious kiss like you two had all the time in the world.
Like he wanted to devour you.
“Bucky, Baby—”
You barely got his name out before his fingers tightened, and suddenly your back was pressed to the mirror, legs wrapped around his waist, body caged in by his. He grabbed the hem of the shirt and yanked it open, baring your skin to his.
You shivered at the way his eyes darkened as they swept over you, hunger rolling off him.
“Shoulda stayed in bed, baby,” he murmured, trailing his lips down your neck and his hands spreading you wider.
“I was going to meet Peach for brunch,” you whimpered.
In the back of your mind, you were certain that this was a plan between him and Steve to keep you both in the house after what happened in Atlanta after New Years.
Bucky chuckled, his breath hot against your skin and his teeth grazing your collarbone.
“I’m sure she’s busy as well.”
You shook your head and smirked as his mouth moved lower, dragging down your stomach, over your hip, until he was kneeling between your legs.
“Can’t stop thinking about you,” he confessed, his voice dropping into a rough whisper as he looked up at you with those baby blues.
“About this body. About what we made together. About how deep a part of me lives inside you.”
His hand drifted over your stomach, then slid down to the waistband of your panties, teasing.
Your breath hitched, “Bucky!”
His palmed your clit and slipped three fingers along the cut of you, playing in your slick, teasing.
“So fucking wet. Here, taste.”
And he inserted his wet fingers into your mouth. Your eyes closed as you sucked yourself off of him, but they flew open when you felt something sharp and cold against your skin.
Bucky had picked up your hair shears from the vanity and was using them to cut your panties off.
“James!”
Bucky outright laughed as you moved your mouth and prepared to gripe at him, until he got on his knees. He settled between your legs, pushing between them with his shoulders and stared at you.
You were glistening, slick and swollen, your body so fucking ready for him.
He dragged his wet fingers through your folds, pressing just enough to make your breath catch, just enough to make your hips jerk up.
You were desperate for more.
“Look at you,” he murmured, watching you fall apart.
You whimpered, your thighs trembling around his shoulders. He slid a finger inside you, slow and deep, watching as you gasped, your body clenching around him.
“So tight. So fucking perfect.”
Bucky added another, stretching, preparing, feeling your pussy adjust to him.
You moaned, arched, writhed, and it was the most beautiful fucking thing Bucky had ever seen.
He leaned forward and dragged his tongue through your slick heat, tasting, devouring, and feeling your body tremble under his grip. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling, gripping, and begging for more.
“Please, Bucky, please!!!”
Your fiancé smirked into your pussy.
“Impatient?”
You whimpered, your hips jerking as he held you down, licking slowly, deeply, watching you come undone.
“You’re perfect like this,” he mumbled into your cunt.
At this point, you were shaking and gasping. Bucky didn’t stop until you were arching off the vanity, crying out his name, legs shaking around his head as you came.
He wiped his mouth as he watched you come down and trying to close your legs although he still had one thigh in his grip.
Your drooping eyes widened as he lowered the waistband of his sweats, pulled you forward by your hip, and lined himself up.
“Need more. Need to be inside you.”
“Please!”
It was an over stimulated plea, but it died on your lips in a moan. Bucky held your gaze as he pushed inside your wet, hot pussy.
“Tight,” he gritted through clenched teeth. “Fucking perfect.”
Your fingers clenched his shoulders and you let out a breathy moan, making him almost lose it right there. Bucky sunk deeper, feeling your body stretch to accommodate him.
“That’s it, mama. Take every fucking inch of my fat cock.”
He groaned, burying himself to the hilt, feeling you tighten and pulse around him, sucking him in deeper.
Bucky pulled back and thrusted back hard, watching the way you face twisted in pleasure.
“Mine.”
He said it aloud this time.
Bucky gripped your hips, pinning you down, fucking you slow and deep. He gripped your jaw and forced you to look at him.
“Eyes on me.”
His voice was rough and demanding.
“That’s it. Take me. Take all of this cock.”
Your nails dragged down his back until you were too weak to hold on, your body shuddering from wave after wave of pleasure, which spiked when the splashes of his hot cum hit the convulsing walls of your cunt.
Bucky held you tight and kissed the top of your head.
“You don’t leave the bed without saying good morning.”
“Yes, Sir. Good morning, Sir.”
“Smartass. Let’s teach it a lesson.”
You thought Bucky Barnes was done.
But when you slid down to your feet, he turned you around and bent you over the sink. You felt his cock get hard again and press against your bottom.
You gasped.
“James!”
“You’re gonna be a little late for brunch, Frumoasă.”
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James Bucky Barnes is an avowed bachelor and one night stand artist. But when he meets you, he finds out that sometimes love comes around, and it knocks you down.
I, II,III, IV
V: …As Hard as I Did
VI: All I Know it Feels So Damn Good
VII: Dessert or Disaster?
VIII: You’ve Got Me Thinking
IX: Worth the Fall
X:Drabble: Bespoke
XI: Answer Love’s Call
XII: Drabble: Good Morning
XIII: Make It So
XIV: At Last
Read the Mob!Steve Rogers x Dancer!Reader Peach Fics
Read Everything In Order, Knock You Down and the Peach Fics.
...As Hard As I Did | Knock You Down Masterlist | Dessert or Disaster
Summary: James Bucky Barnes was an avowed bachelor and one night stand artist. You came along and knocked him on his face. Bucky gives you anything you want. Anything.
Word count: 2.5 K
Pairing: Art Dealer (mob boss) Bucky Barnes x Reader
A/N: This fic is connected to the Knock You Down AU, and comes After ...As Hard As I Did but BEFORE Dessert or Disaster, but it can be read as a stand alone. It is in answer to this ask. Seb Stan's latest pics and this press run is making me feral. I can write these two ALL DAY!!!! Y'all are gonna have to deal with this for a while, sorry not sorry.
Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. This is porn with some plot. GNO tipsy texting returns, Dom/sub elements, phone sex, talk of raw p in v, description of sex with condom, Bucky being fluffy while filthy, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, degradation kink, talk of face slapping, talk of finger f*cking, talk of oral sex, praise kink, breeding kink, begging, use of Daddy, use of google translate Romanian. Actual raw p in v, lactation kink if you squint, nipple worship if you squint, belly bulge, non-existent refractory period. Not Beta'd. All errors my own.
I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘
I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.
-----
It was your first Girl’s Night Out as Bucky’s girl. You’d texted him tipsy messages all night, teasing him with your selfies and requests of the same from him.
Your flirty banter was all fun and games until your received a terse, ‘Call me when you get home’ voice memo.
You don’t know why six little words got you all worked up, but there was a delicious feeling of anticipation in your stomach until you settled into bed after you showered and dialed Bucky.
For the short time you’d been intimate, you’d sensed that he was holding back something darker, more forceful and to think of it didn’t scare you.
It only served to get you so incredibly hot. Something inside you wanted to push his buttons.
Maybe it was that, and not the champagne, that impelled you to text him what you had earlier.
Bucky was on his couch, staring at the Manhattan skyline and waiting for your call. He answered on the first ring.
“Hello, Frumoasă. Did you have fun tonight?”
His question seemed innocuous enough. Bucky listened as you recounted the drama and escapades of the night with your girls.
You asked him how his evening with Steve and Sam was and he replied shortly, “Fine. Until I got distracted.”
Then he got to the point.
“Now. Let’s talk about the text you sent me earlier. Run that back for me? What is it that you want to do while I do what to you now?”
The way he slid into confronting you was savage. You weren’t expecting it and now you didn’t want to say it out loud.
Had you crossed the line, you wondered?
Your silence made Bucky smile. He knew he had you flustered, having learned your tells already. You were about to be in the mood he wanted you in; he just needed to push a little further.
“Cat got that talented tongue, baby? Tell me what you said. Or are you only a whore over texts?”
The coldness in Bucky’s tone made you whimper. And wet.
“James…”
Bucky’s cock swelled. He was ten seconds from jumping into his car and showing up at your door. Instead of that, Bucky decided to be patient.
But clear.
“Tell me.”
“I said…I said that I wanted to suck your fingers while you fuck me raw.”
Bucky grunted to cover his moan. You being his shy little slut was so hot.
“Hmmmm. What made my sweet girl think such whore thoughts? Was it the picture that you requested and I sent?”
You shuddered as you ran your fingertips along your belly, playing with the waistband of your underwear. Your nipples were stiff peaks, poking through your thin sleep shirt, which was one of his white tees.
The fine cotton fabric felt so good against your skin and his scent lingered on the surface. These sensations, along with the knowledge that the shirt, and you, belonged to Bucky sent your fingers further.
“Thank you for the picture, Daddy.”
Bucky clenched his jaw at the moniker. He couldn’t deny you a thing. Even when he was out to dinner with his boys, he would send you a bathroom selfie if you asked. He hadn’t expected the response, however.
You’d only been together for a couple of weeks, and he’d religiously used protection, even after you’d both gotten tested the week after you got together. Despite your clean bills of health, Bucky never pushed to not use protection. He didn’t try to change your mind, he was just happy to be in the room.
In fact, Bucky loved using condoms with you.
The way you rolled it on him always made him about to bust. The sight of your small fingers on him when you both were past the point of desperation drove him insane with romantic thoughts.
Your tiny hands rolling the rubber on him made him feel like you were his queen and he your knight. And he would vanquish any foe for you. His holy grail was your precious pussy, and if you wanted to use condoms, he was your humble servant.
But of course, he dreamed of fucking you raw. How could he not with the way your juicy pussy sucked his digits in when he fucked you with his fingers, and the warm wet feel of you when his tongue penetrated your core?
You’d discussed birth control and you had additional methods, but when he snuck a peek of the ring in his closet, he allowed himself to fantasize about making you pregnant.The images got him so hard and yet he restrained himself.
But now that you opened the door, he could let his fantasies run wild. And dare to hope.
“Tell me more, Frumoasă.”
“Well… your fingers in the picture got me hot. You look so fucking Daddy, your eyes, your hair, which I love a little longer by the way, the grey in your beard. Those lips. But those fingers holding that ratty ass phone…”
You giggled until Bucky spoke again.
“As long as I can talk to you and get those kinds of messages, I don’t need a new one. But do go on…”
You melted at his sentiment. How did you get a man that was so open with his feelings?
“Those fingers, mmmm, they are magic. Make me wanna be a slut for for them, for you, James.”
You heard Bucky moving on his end of the line. You guessed at what he was doing.
“What are you doing, Jamie? Are you touching your cock?”
You bit your finger as you listen to him moving.
“Do you know that I daydream about that beautiful dick of yours?”
A groan was all that you received in response.
“Ever have a goal, James? Sucking your cock is mine. It’s so big. Love to get on my knees and swallow you down. Makes me feel accomplished. Ya know?”
“Holy shit, Y/N…”
“I want to feel it without a condom. I- I just think it will feel so good. Don’t you?”
As he thought of what you would feel like as he sank into you, skin to skin, a shiver ran up his spine.
“You know that I give you anything you ask for. Your soft, wet pussy would feel so warm and so good wrapped around me, Y/N. Are you sure you want that?”
You felt an enormous sense of power, and you had a feeling that Bucky was letting you have your way. For now. You took full advantage.
“You know that vein that runs around your shaft to the tip?”
Bucky was tracing that very vein with his fingers.
“You mean the one that you love to rub those sweet lips on? The one that your wicked tongue traces to my fat head for your sweet little mouth to suck?”
You gasped at Bucky’s lewd language. You were soaking your panties and you moved to take them off. This conversation was the shit.
“Is that what you want to get on your knees for? To try to make me your slave to your slutty mouth?”
“Yes, Daddy just thinking about it makes me wanna cum.”
Bucky’s ears perked up at your breathless voice. He knew that you were touching yourself.
“Oh yeah?”
“Ummmhmmm.”
“Cum for me now, Frumoasă.”
You moaned and rubbed furious circles around your clit. Your arousal was evident in the sloppy sounds emanating from between your legs
“Is that my wet pussy I hear, Baby? How did that happen? Are you that much of a slut?”
“Th-thinking about you, Daddy. Always a slut for you,” you keened in response.
“What exactly are you thinking about me? Fă ce spun eu frumos.”
You caught Bucky’s tone, and also the hitch in his voice. He was as close as you were.
“Yes, Daddy. ‘M thinking about your fingers inside me. Your cock. How big it is. The way you handle me. The way you talk to me. How you make me feel nasty and angelic all at the same damn time.”
“Good girl. Now. Make sure that you fuck your fingers into that sweet cunt.”
You moaned as you obeyed.
“Oh. Fuck!”
“There’s my good little whore. I should slap your fucking face for being so dirty. ”
You gasped, then thrilled.
“Ooooohhhh, Daddy!”
You were breathless and Bucky’s heart was beating out of his chest. You liked degradation. Really liked it. He took note.
“‘M so wet for you, Jamie.”
“I’m going to fuck you senseless, and you won’t be able to run from my cock when I fuck all of your fucking holes raw. Gonna leave my cum dripping out of everywhere.”
You gasped, fingers flying over your clit.
“Daddy…”
“But what if you get pregnant?”
You cried out.
“Godamn it, Frumoasă. That belly swollen because I fucked my cum into you. Full of my… fuck… full of my baby. Those tits gushing milk every time I fuck you…”
“Oh yes. Make me a Mommy!”
“You’ll be mine, Frumoasă. In every single way imaginable.”
“Oh oh oooooooooh!”
Your pussy spasmed under your fingers as his words pushed you over the edge.
“Don’t fucking stop rubbing that clit until I say so.”
He was so mean. You squeezed your thighs around your wrist, but did as he said.
“NNnnnghhh, Daddy… please!”
You continued stroking your oversensitive clit until you heard your name through the fog.
“Take your hand away..”
You gladly obeyed, gasping in order to take in oxygen. Your head was spinning and there was a giant smile on your face.
“Holy shit. That was…”
Bucky’s low chuckle made you giggle. You heard movement over the phone.
“What’re you doing?”
“Made a mess all over my shirt. Taking it off.”
Your pussy pulsed again at what he said.
“You can’t say things like that when I’m still pounding, Daddy…” you whimpered.
“Poor Y/N, can’t handle the things she starts.”
You laughed and then stopped abruptly.
“You better be glad that you’re not here right now. I’d knock you the fuck out.”
“Big talk. Little girl.”
“Try me, Mr. Barnes.”
He couldn’t resist you and he couldn’t stay away. So he gave up trying.
“Brat. Be there in 30 minutes. Be ready to put your money where your mouth is. I’d like to see you live up to your threat, Baby.”
“Oh I’m ready, James. Leave the condoms at home.”
—-
45 minutes later, Bucky was sinking into your wet heat, eyes rolling back into his head. He was inside in one long stroke, burying himself in your wetness with a fair amount of stretch. He was huge. But he’d made you so wet.
You quivered around him, sensitive to every twitch of his dick, and he wasn’t even moving yet.
“Who do you belong to, Frumoasă?”
“You,” you moaned, not even hesitating.
Bucky flexed his hips, opening you with controlled thrusts. Almost immediately, you were close. His fingers covered your throat, cradling your jaw, and a thumb pushed between your lips. You sucked it eagerly as he lifted one ankle next to your ear.
Blucky’s searing eyes met yours. His black pupils took over the blue as he took in your open mouth and fucked out expression.
He pulled you up to kiss you on the lips.
“God, you feel like heaven. So unbelievably hot and silky. And soft.”
You clenched around him at his words of praise. You were spiraling at how hard and good and electric every ridge and vein on Bucky’s cock felt inside you. He filled you up so good and now you were addicted.
It wasn’t fair.
You pouted at him, then put your hand on the bulge he was creating in your belly.
“Feels so fucking good, Daddy. So good. So big.”
His mouth turned up into a half grin as he looked down and put his hand over yours.
“Gonna fucking fill you up.”
He started moving, slowly, gently at first, building to a crescendo the more you moaned and cried. He was hypnotized by your bouncing breasts and your tiny stiff mountain peaks. When his mouth closed over your tight, puckered nipple, you let out a scream.
Bucky grabbed your ass and smacked it, causing you to clamp down immediately. He gazed at you, eyebrow raised at your reaction. You closed your eyes and threw your head back, but he stopped, grabbed your hair and made you look at him. He paused, balls deep inside you.
You breathed out his name.
“...James…”
Your desperation almost made him come on the spot, and you could feel him pounding inside you. The truth was, he needed a little break so this could last.
The way your pussy was sucking his dick was insane.
“D’you feel how soaked you are?” he crooned, gripping your windpipe again.
“You need this so badly, don’t you? Go on, Frumoasă. It’s not so hard. I know you want to beg me for it. You like being a little whore..”
You sucked in a breath, remaining silent as you stared at him insolently. His grip tightened.
“Say it. You love being my cumslut.”
His voice was on the edge of control. It was everything.
“Yes!” you gasped. “Please, Daddy, Pleaseee…”
Bucky started moving again and you realized how sensitive to him you were. You clutched the sheets as he lengthened his strokes.
“Fuuuuuck,” you gasped.
Bucky leaned down to kiss you as your sweat combined with your slick and soaked both your bodies. His hips were moving relentlessly, his cock lighting up every nerve ending inside your tight channel. You squeezed him deliciously.
Bucky’s thumb was lighting up your clit and you were running headlong toward that cliff. He growled into your mouth as you tightened around him in a rush of pleasure.
As you neared your peak, your pussy pulsed erratically and you sparked around him like a firework. When you cried out, he spoke again, his hand around your throat with his thumb, (coated with the essence of you) inserted again into your mouth.
“Look at you, baby,” he said, low and heated.
“You’re gonna cum so hard, and just the way I want you to. Around my naked cock. Gonna give you all this cum.”
He whispered it into your ear.
“Oh God, I’m cuming.”
“You better hope none of my little soldiers make it past your birth control, little girl.”
You shrieked around his digit, shuddering as one wave after another crashed over your body. Bucky’s cock jerked inside you and he choked on air.
“Oh Goddddd!”
Bucky’s low, deep moan made you shudder around him again as he sped up, unable to contain the feeling that rushed down his spine when you came.
“Fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck FUCKKKKKKKK!”
Bucky pounded you out as you came with him. He collapsed on top of you, laughing, as he kissed and licked your sweat filled neck. Then, he rolled off of you and put his arm over his eyes, his chest heaving beside you.
You curled up next to him and practically purred as you traced his tattooed sleeve.
“Told you I’d knock you out old man. Too bad you have to go to work tomorrow. How are you ever gonna do it when you’re so worn out? I feel like this pussy was worth it tho.”
Bucky moved his arm and opened one eye at you, a scowl on his face. Then he smiled. The brat in you turned him the fuck on. He turned toward you and traced his fingers along your side, caressing your curves like a feather. His voice was the gentlest whisper.
“Wonder how you’re gonna work tomorrow when you can’t walk, Y/N?”
You felt his dick awaken and gasped as you looked down. Bucky slapped your ass as he stood up to go to the foot of the bed, stroking his cock.
“Turn the fuck over. I’ll show you an old man.”
“We’ll see who is gonna knock out who first tonight. Give me that fucking arch.”
You smiled as your face was pressed into the comforter.
Part IV | Knock You Down Masterlist | All I Know it Feels So Damn Good
Summary: James Bucky Barnes is an avowed bachelor and one night stand artist. You came along and knocked him on his face. Now he knows he wants more than just one night with you, so much more. Do you feel the same?
Word count: 1.9K
Pairing: Art Dealer (mob boss) Bucky Barnes x Reader
A/N: This fic is connected to the Knock You Down AU, and comes immediately after KYD IV, but I feel it can be read as a stand alone. It is in answer to this ask. Seb Stan's latest pics and this press run is making me feral. I can write these two ALL DAY!!!! Y'all are gonna have to deal with this for a while, sorry not sorry.
Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. Bucky is in love. The angst! The fluff! The morning after! Bucky wakes you up the best way he knows how, thorough female receiving oral sex, edging, manual sex, teabagging, squirting, nipple play, begging, use of Daddy, bukakke, cum play, Bucky cooks for you, google translate Romanian, the "L" word, allusions to cock riding.
I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘
I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.
-----
James Bucky Barnes had slipped and fallen in love.
Steve was so right.
It came out of the blue last Monday when he met with you about a painting, and here he was the very next Sunday morning, holding you in his arms. The ruse of him being a fully legitimate art dealer and not a crime boss had been quickly done away with by the media and your friends, and the fantasy of wooing you met the reality that you did not come to play.
You called Bucky on his bullshit and that made him fall even harder for you. He was honest about his plan to go legit and careful with your feelings, not immediately turning to physicality as he did with every other woman. There was something special about you that was worth the wait.
The five days had been an eternity for both of you, and Bucky had been like a teenager, unable to last very long. He was determined to set that right today, and also to tell you how he felt.
Bucky Barnes knew very little fear, but wondering if you returned his feelings was shaking him to the core.
He held to his original dream of making you smile at him forever, but those dreams had grown to thoughts of a life together, a home you could build together, and the thought of what kids together might look like.
Bucky smiled and held you closer as you snuggled deeper into his embrace and threw your leg over his hip. He caressed the soft skin of your thigh as he argued with himself. He was too old for this; he would be an old man when your kids were just going to college, but that didn’t stop him from making Steve go with him to Cartier yesterday after your event.
Steve grumbled, but he was still smitten with you from his conversation with you yesterday, so he didn’t protest the 5 carat purchase that Bucky made. His best friend just asked Bucky some pertinent questions like:
Had Bucky told you that he loved you?
Did you love him?
Did you even want to get married? To a criminal?
Did you want to have kids with Bucky?
Bucky just stared at Steve, creating the opportunity to goad him.
“But all that aside. If you don’t lock her down, I just might. I’ll close the deal swiftly.”
That left Bucky’s blood to boil while he prepared for dinner last night, but when he opened the door and saw you standing there, every negative vibe left his vicinity.
And now, you were here, warm and beautiful, and naked, in his grip. He was going to take full advantage of the few hours you might gift him today. He didn’t want to risk you running away after he told you his feelings.
He lifted your thigh and positioned himself most where he needed to be.
—--
You moaned in your sleep. You dreamed that Bucky was eating you out again, but you couldn’t quite feel his kisses and slurps to your folds, only whispers of sensation, like air. It was so frustrating, so you grabbed Buckys’ hair and scratched his scalp, trying to encourage him to be rougher.
He moaned and you smiled, calling his name.
“James, please….”
Your eyes fluttered open to the unfamiliarity of Bucky’s bedroom in the morning light. Your legs were spread wide and Bucky’s head was pillowed on your thigh, his hot breath teasing your pussy.
“What are you doing?”
You looked down to see him staring at your most intimate parts and smiling.
“Mmmm. Good morning Frumoasă. I’m about to check an item off my long list of what I want to do to you…”
He pursed his lips and softly kiss your lower ones. You shivered and continued playing in his hair. You laughed, music to Bucky’s ears. He smiled up at you.
“Oh, so you have a list, do you?”
“Yes, an extensive one at that. I will show you later, but right now…”
Bucky moved to kneel and shoved his hands under your ass, serving you up to him as on a platter. His eyes moved from your fluttering cunt up your soft belly and your beautiful breasts to your face. He leaned forward to give you a sound smack on the lips.
“I was wondering if I was going to get a good morning kiss.”
That eyebrow arched and he moved down your body again.
“That’s all in my plan, Frumoasă. Just be patient. ”
You pulled Bucky’s hair as his long, thick tongue licked through you to your soul. You shuddered and Bucky smiled, then those lips took hold of your clit and sucked ruthlessly as he brought one hand up to push two fingers inside you, the squelch of your wetness so gloriously obscene. He stopped and just pumped those fingers inside you, listening.
“Hear how wet you are for me? It’s a dream come true.”
You reached with grabby hands for him to stimulate your clit as all he did was fuck you with his fingers and hold you open for him. You were on the edge of madness. And it seemed that was where Bucky wanted you.
“Jamie….”
“Atât de nerăbdătoare Frumoasă. savurați momentul.”
Somehow, you knew he was telling you to wait.
“Please, please, please James. Eat your pussy please!”
Bucky’s eyes rolled back into his head. You begging was his weakness, what he wanted to hear from since day one. Then he realized what you’d said.
“... Did you say… that this pussy was mine?”
You smirked at him, feeling the brat.
“Maybe…”
Bucky frowned and slapped your clit, causing sparks of pain and pleasure to roll up your spine and wetness to gush out over his fingers.
“Ow! Yes! Yes! This pussy is yours, Daddy, please eat it.”
Bucky clenched his jaw and his cock, which was hard against his abdomen, jumped.
“Seems you know the magic words, Frumoasă.”
Bucky rewarded you with his mouth clamped over your clit and his eyes locked on yours as you watched his tongue working in his jaw. He was eating you out like a professional. You arched into his face, clit hart and throbbing, ready to give him…
He pulled away as you gasp/screamed in outrage, then whimpered and pouted.
“Please Daddy!”
“Oh, you’re ruining me, I can tell. But tell me, Frumoasă, tell me…”
He regarded you now with a new possessiveness. Impossibly, it made you wetter.
“What else of yours is mine?”
You squirmed under his attention and he rewarded you with another finger in your cunt and all three curled against that electric spot within you.
“What about this ass?”
His pinky bullied into your tighter hole, and you arched as he leaned down to suck your clit like saltwater taffy.
“Oh shittttttt! Yes! Fuck yessss.”
Bucky was grinding his cock against the sheets now, possessed by the sight, taste, and feel of you in his hands. He could actually taste that you were close now, and he wanted it almost as much as you did, but he abandoned you again. He looked up at your body.
“What about those glorious tits?”
He reached up to pluck both of them of them ruthlessly over and over as he continued to finger fuck you. His breath was ragged and his face a mask of desire, but he still had a modicum of control.
“They are next on my list.”
“W-what do you mean?”
You were thrilled and scared at the same time.
“Nu-ți face griji pentru ea frumos, doar ai răbdare.”
And his face was busy again between your legs, which were shaking around his ears. He held one down with one hand as he fucked you with the other.
“Shit, Daddy! I’m gonna….fuck! I’m gonna…”
Bucky nodded and looked up at you, then he told you to cum with his fingers and you shattered, gushing into his mouth and all over his bed.
Bucky leaned up and groaned as he played in your wetness, using that hand to begin to jack himself over your shuddering body.
“Can I come all over you, Frumoasă?”
“Yes, Daddy…”
Bucky groaned and then manhandled your nipples.
“Cum all over me, Jamie.”
Then he roared as you moved so that you could suck his balls.”
“Holy, shhhhhhitttttttt!”
You were circling your own clit as the first hot drops of his cum sprayed over your already heated body. You came one more time as he focused on your breasts and left a hot, sticky mess all over you.
Your eyes were closed as your shivered because Bucky’s hot mouth was sucking his spend off your nipples. He alternated between kisses, bites, and laps against your skin.
“James! Gotdamn! I–”
“I know, I know, Frumoasa. But I can’t get enough...suportă-mă, iubito…”
—---
Later that Sunday, around noon, you sat, twice showered, marked, edged, and fucked to within an edge of your life as you ate the brunch that Bucky made you. You were ensconced in one of his plain white tee shirts and some of his boxer briefs and socks, and he was looking at you hungrily.
You laughed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Bucky smirked, happier than he’d been in a good while.
“Do you want more…?”
Despite the debauched things you’d spent the morning doing, you blushed and looked down at your plate. You felt like a slut. But in a good way. You loved sex with Bucky. It seemed like even his pleasure was focused on you. It was unlike any other relationship you’d ever had.
“I’m sorry. Do you regret it?”
Bucky stopped eating and tipped your head up by your chin with his fingers. He looked worried and you melted. You bit your lip and decided to go for it.
“No. Because I love you.”
Bucky’s fork clattered to his plate and his eyes grew wide while your bright smile faded. Then he frowned.
“Fuck.”
He looked mad.
“I- I knew I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s too soon. I’m sorry, just forget that I said that.”
“No! Shit…”
Bucky grabbed your head and kissed you, the strawberries and cream from the waffles flooding your senses as his tongue found yours. When he was done, he grinned at you.
“I was pissed for a second, but not at you. What you just said is all I’ve ever wanted. I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you that I love you, too and here you are, saying it first.”
You rolled your eyes, although your soul soared. You pulled away and took another bite of food.
“It’s not a competition, James.”
You said it through a full mouth.
“Hmmmm. Maybe not. But I do love you more.”
He took another, bigger bite of food and you shook your head at him.
“You are insufferable.”
Bucky grinned.
“Get used to it if you’re gonna be my girl.”
“Your girl? Oh?”
Bucky wiped his mouth, then picked you up and placed you on his lap.
“Y/N L/N. I love you. And I want to figure this thing out between us. I want you to be my girlfriend while I figure out how to be the best man for you. Then maybe… “
You stopped him with your finger on his lips.
“Listen. One step at a time, Jamie. I love you too, James Buchanan Barnes. You are the best man for me. My man. I’m along for the ride.”
Bucky kissed you, then stood up and threw you over his shoulder as he moved to his couch.
“Speaking of riding. There’s my list to attend to.”
You screamed and laughed as Bucky slapped your ass.
——
Next part Here!
All feedback is golden, babies! Let me know how you feel. ✨
Summary: Bucky makes you his wife. And you let him.
Word count: 4.8 K
Pairing: Art Dealer (mob boss) Bucky Barnes x Reader; Steve Rogers x Peach
A/N: This fic is in the Knock You Down AU, and the wedding is finally here. It comes after the events of Make it So. This universe obviously intersects with the Peach verse, and would come after Show Off. It also will intersect with the Muse AU in the future of this story. Being on the couch for the past week is coming in clutch to catch Bucky and Steve up to Ari. I'm nervous because I haven't written for these two in a while and wanted to get the wedding just right. Please let me know how you feel by commenting, reblogging, and interacting. 😉
Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. Reader is 3 months pregnant. Anxiety attack, wedding stress, destination wedding, wedding dress shopping, sex in an established relationship, pregnant reader, Bucky is a simp and feral for Furmoaså, flirting, teasing, Bucky speaking google Romanian, praise so much praise, oral, (f receiving) more bathroom sex, bump worship, raw p-in-v, after care.
Not Beta'd. All errors my own.
I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘
I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.
-----
The coffee table was buried in color swatches, RSVP mockups, half-emptied takeout containers, and a half-full glass of ginger ale you’d been too nauseous to finish.
You sat cross-legged on the floor in one of Bucky’s dress shirts, hair up in a messy bun, your phone in one hand and your planner in the other.
You stared blankly at the spreadsheet open on your laptop screen, wondering how you’d gone from “just us, barefoot on a beach” to twelve-person string ensemble and a four-tier cake.
You didn’t even remember how it happened. Just that it was spiraling now. Too fast and too big.
The tightness in your chest was creeping up your throat. That shallow, dizzy feeling again, not hunger, not nausea. Just too much. Your vision blurred and your hands trembled as you shut the laptop.
And that’s how Bucky found you.
“Hey. What’s going on, Frumoasă?”
He was fresh out of the shower, his hair damp and curling. His chest was bare, sweatpants riding low on his hips. He was drying his hair as he stepped into the room, but when he saw your face he dropped the towel.
In two strides he was in front of you, crouched between your knees, warm hands cupping your cheeks.
“Baby,” he said softly, thumbs brushing away tears you hadn’t even noticed.
“Breathe with me, okay? In…”
You inhaled shakily, eyes locked on his.
“Good girl. Now out…”
Your exhale caught, but you pushed through it.
“There you go,” he murmured, forehead pressed to yours. “Again.”
You followed his rhythm until the wave of panic ebbed, just enough to let your lungs expand again. You felt yourself calm just a little.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “I’m trying to do everything right. I want it to be perfect. I want you to be proud. I want the baby to be okay, and I just…”
“Shhh,” he murmured. “Come here.”
He pulled you into his lap, your legs draped over his thighs as he settled back into the couch. His hand slid under the shirt you were wearing, his shirt resting warm and steady over the gentle swell of your belly.
“First of all,” he murmured, lips brushing your temple, “you already gave me perfect the day you said yes.”
“And second… proud doesn’t even begin to cover it. I look at you every day and think, how the fuck did I get this lucky?”
You closed your eyes and let yourself sink into him, your forehead against his neck, your body melting against his chest. His other hand moved to your hair, fingers cording through the thickness gently.
“We can call off the whole thing right now and go to city hall in whatever we’re wearing,” he whispered, “and it’ll still be the best day of my life. I swear to God.”
You let out a broken laugh.
“You’d marry me in sweatpants?”
“In a heartbeat. With mustard on my shirt and the courthouse AC broken. Don’t care.”
His lips grazing yours.
“You’re not doing this alone. I’m here, Baby. For all of it.”
You nodded slowly, sniffling into his neck.
He pulled back just enough to look at you.
“Now, what do you need? A nap? A foot rub? For me to throw this whole planner into the ocean?”
You laughed again, watery and real.
“Honestly? All three.”
“Done.”
And just like that, the storm passed.
Not because the stress was gone, but because Bucky Barnes knew how to hold you steady when it hit.
—---
It was past eleven the next day when Peach arrived, holding a pint of salted caramel gelato.
“Tell me you’re not still doom-scrolling BridalTok.”
You didn’t answer. The open Pinterest tabs on your laptop, the silk robe you hadn’t changed out of since breakfast, and the vanilla candle you’d lit twice today were damning enough.
Peach kicked off her sandals and padded inside.
“You’re glowing, by the way,” she said, settling on the couch beside you.
“Even if you’re panicking. Still glowing. Like, annoying-level glowing.”
You groaned and pulled the throw blanket over your face.
“I don’t feel glowing. I feel deranged. I cried over a centerpiece. A fucking centerpiece, Peach. Bucky had to talk me down like he was disarming a nuke.”
Peach laughed, flopping over until her cheek was resting on your shoulder.
“Sounds like he passed the test.”
You peeked at her from under the blanket.
“What test?”
“The one that actually matters. You already knew the sex was good. You already had the chemistry, the intellectualism, the obsession. But the way he holds you through this? The hormones, the wedding spreadsheet meltdowns?”
She grinned.
“That’s the forever part.”
Your throat tightened a little.
You sat up slowly, tugging your knees to your chest.
“Was it like that for you and Steve? When you knew?”
Peach went quiet, her teasing softened by memory.
“I knew the second I saw him in Hilton Head. I wanted to strangle him. And kiss him. And break every plate in the house.”
You smiled. “Sounds romantic.”
“It wasn’t. Not then. But when I saw him again in Brooklyn, and I wasn’t mad anymore. Just wrecked and happy to see him? That’s when I knew.”
She turned to you, all mischief gone.
“But this wedding? This is you. Big, golden, joyful you. And Bucky sees it. He wants it. Not because it’s shiny, but because it’s yours.”
You blinked hard, breathing shallow now for entirely different reasons. Peach nudged you with her foot.
“If you still want simple, you can have it. But don’t hide from what you want because it scares you. If it’s fireworks and a string quartet on an island with your belly full of baby Barnes? Then bitch, do it.”
You wiped your eyes. “I love you.”
She grinned. “Obviously.”
She stood and stretched dramatically.
“Now. Are we crying into this gelato like the emotionally unstable icons we are?”
You grabbed two spoons.
“Of course.”
—
The boutique was a quiet sanctuary tucked between two noisy cafes in SoHo, and for a few hours, it belonged to just the three of you.
A sign in the window read Private Appointment – Bride Inside, scrawled in looping script, and Peach had immediately posed in front of it for a photo.
Inside, soft jazz filtered through the air as you stood on the pedestal, hem floating just above your bare feet, silk and tulle whispering around your thighs.
You tried not to cry.
Your mom sat on the velvet settee, hand pressed to her lips. Peach held the other, and even she was misty-eyed, despite teasing you the whole drive over about being “the chill bride, remember?”
“You look like a goddess,” she whispered. “A divine entity. They should retire white after this.”
The gown had been a long shot, a last-minute sample pulled out of storage by a determined assistant who said, “I just have a feeling.”
And somehow, it was everything.
Soft and stunning, romantic without being fussy. Ivory silk with a gentle shimmer, delicate cap sleeves that slipped off your shoulders just enough, and a deep V-back that draped like liquid. The front skimmed over your three-month bump, subtle enough to feel like a secret only Bucky would notice up close.
The veil was still in its packaging. You hadn’t decided on it yet. But when the assistant gently pinned a cluster of pale blossoms behind your ear, you suddenly saw the whole picture.
A villa. The sea. Golden hour.
And Bucky.
Your mom finally stood and crossed the room to cup your face like she had when you were small.
“He’s going to lose his mind,” she murmured. “Not that he isn’t already crazy about you.”
You laughed, thick with emotion.
“I don’t even know how to walk in this.”
“We’ll practice,” Peach grinned. “We’ll make a TikTok. Bucky’ll cry watching that.”
The fitting ended with a rush of photos, none of which you sent to Bucky. You’d barely stepped out of the dress when your phone buzzed.
Bucky: How’s it going? Are you still in the dress? What if I promised not to blink. Just a peek.
You: Absolutely not.
Bucky: I’ll bring dumplings. One glimpse for every sauce container.
You: Stop trying to bribe my honor.
Bucky: Your honor already said yes to marrying me.
Let me worship you.
…I’ll throw in a foot rub.
Peach leaned over your shoulder and read the thread, grinning.
“You know he’s parked outside, right?”
You turned toward the window and there he was, in his sportscar, sunglasses on, and pretending to be normal. He was parked illegally and completely unrepentant.
Your cheeks flushed.
“Oh my God.”
Peach cackled.
“Already in full simp-mode.”
—---
Bucky couldn’t stop imagining you in that dress.
He hadn’t even seen it, just chased the outline in his head, by the way your voice caught when you described how it shimmered, and by the way your hands had brushed your own hips when you whispered, “It just floats, Bucky. Like a dream.”
Well, now he was the one dreaming. Hard.
You’d spent the afternoon at your final fitting with your mom and Peach. He’d tried to bribe someone, anyone, to get a peek.
The designer, the assistant, the poor delivery driver who’d dropped off the steaming food Peach ordered from a fancy Thai place. But no one cracked.
So now he was pacing the penthouse while you did your hair in the ensuite, wearing one of his old tees and nothing else. The same legs that would walk toward him in that dress next week were currently propped up on the vanity, lotion glinting on your thighs like an oasis illusion.
He was losing it.
“You’re quiet,” you called, not looking up. “That’s dangerous.”
“I’m picturing you in white,” Bucky said, appearing in the doorway.
His eyes were starving.
You smirked at him in the mirror.
“That bad?”
“No,” he said, stepping closer.
“That good. Too good.”
He leaned down, mouth brushing your neck, hands sliding up the backs of your thighs.
“I can’t stop thinking about how you’ll look. But even more? About what’ll be underneath.”
You raised a brow.
“You won’t be seeing that during the ceremony.”
Bucky raised himself to full height.
“No panties next week.”
You laughed. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” he said, one hand gliding down to cup between your thighs.
“None. I want to be thinking about this sweet little pussy while you walk down the aisle. About how soaked you’ll be by the time I say I do.”
You gasped as he dragged his nose along your neck.
"Vei fi atât de frumoasă..."
“I thought you said you didn’t want to jinx anything,” you whispered, teasing.
“I don’t,” he murmured, lifting you up onto the counter with ease. “I just want what’s under the dress.”
His hands were hot on your thighs, spreading them open as his mouth found your neck, his voice wrecked with want.
“Just picture it, baby. You walk down that aisle, glowing, mine in every way. Everyone watching you. No one knowing you’re bare under there except me.”
You moaned softly, head tipping back as he kissed just beneath your jaw.
“You’ll say your vows, let me put that ring on your finger, and I’ll be standing there thinking about how my cum’s gonna leaking out of you that night.”
“James…”
“That’s right, mama,” he smiled into your neck, while slipping two fingers under your shirt to roll your nipple between his fingers.
His other hand was between your legs, thumb dragging a slow, teasing circle.
“You’re soaked,” he growled, lips brushing the shell of your ear.
“This all for me, Baby?”
You nodded, dizzy.
“Been thinking about you all day.”
“Yeah?” His fingers dipped lower, spreading slick heat. “You ache, sweetheart? Want me to fix it?”
Your hips rocked into his palm, desperate and needy.
He chuckled.
“I’ll take care of it.”
Bucky sank to his knees.
He lifted one of your legs over his shoulder, his hands gripping your hips, spreading you open with no shame. His mouth hovered over you, hot breath ghosting across sensitive skin.
And then he devoured you, his tongue firm and greedy, lips wrapping around your clit and his groan vibrating straight into your core. You cried out, fingers clutching the edge of the counter, spine arching as you came, so sensitive with pregnancy.
“You think you’re glowing now? Wait until you’re wearing my name, my ring, carrying my baby, and soaked for me on our wedding night.”
You whimpered, thighs rubbing together for friction. Bucky smirked, cock hard against your back, his lips brushing your ear.
“No panties,” he repeated, voice wrecked. “That’s final.”
As if he wouldn’t let you do anything and everything you wanted. He was grasping at straws, desperate.
You shivered.
“We’re getting married in front of my entire family.”
“I’m your family and I’m gonna fuck you now,” he said simply as he rose.
“Right here.”
You were already nodding when he turned you around and bent you over the counter, dragging your panties down and pushing your thighs apart. He didn’t bother teasing this time, just slid in deep and slow, your walls fluttering around him as he groaned your name like a prayer.
“God, you feel like heaven.”
One arm locked around your waist, hand splayed over your belly. The other cupped your breast through the shirt, thumb brushing your nipple. His thrusts were rougher now, driven by something raw.
“You gonna come again for me?” he growled into your neck.
“Come on, sweetheart. Give it to me.”
You shattered with his name on your lips.
And he followed with a broken moan, spilling inside you with a possessive groan, his body curling protectively over yours as he kissed the sweat-slicked skin at the back of your neck.
“You’re gonna walk down that aisle,” he whispered, “and I’m gonna lose my fucking mind.”
You kissed his jaw. “You better.”
“You know what’ll help?”
You sighed happily. “What?”
“No panties.”
You laughed and buried your face in his chest.
“We’ll see.”
He grinned against your temple.
“No. We won’t. That’s the whole point.”
—---
The bridal suite smelled like pressed linen, sea air, and gardenia. You’d dreamt about this as a child.
But nothing about this was childish.
The silk under your fingers was real. The gold initials stitched in your train were real. The diamond on your hand caught every beam of sunlight through the balcony doors.
And Bucky Barnes was real.
You stood barefoot before the full-length mirror, the final zip of your gown still undone, your hair swept up in curls, a halo of pins and fresh petals glinting beneath your veil.
Peach was in the hallway chasing down earrings. The stylist was packing up brushes. And your mom stood behind you, hands gentle on your shoulders, looking at your reflection in the mirror.
“My beautiful girl,” she whispered.
You turned to look at her.
There were tears in her eyes, but she was smiling.
“You used to twirl around the living room with a pillowcase on your head and say, Mama, one day I’m gonna marry a prince.”
You laughed, already crying.
“He’s not exactly a prince.”
“No,” she said softly, brushing a lock of hair from your face.
“He’s better. He’s yours.”
That hit deeper than expected.
“You’re brave, you know,” she added.
“Not just because you’re marrying him. But because you’re letting yourself have this. Love, joy, your dream. You’re not shrinking for anyone.”
You swallowed hard.
“He loves you so much,” she continued.
“You’ve always been sunlight, but with him? You shine. And that baby already knows how lucky they are.”
You rested your hands over the small swell of your belly, blinking fast.
She stepped closer, adjusted a strand of hair, and kissed your temple.
“Take a deep breath, baby. This is the start of the rest of everything.”
Peach was showed up behind you in a sage-green slip dress, grinning like she had a secret.
“You gonna cry?” you asked without turning around.
“No,” Peach sniffled.
“You’re gonna cry. And ruin your lashes. So don’t.”
You huffed a soft laugh.
“Help me with the back?”
She stepped up behind you, fingers gentle as she zipped the dress slowly, smoothing it with a reverent touch.
“Holy shit,” she breathed.
You finally looked at yourself.
Your body was already beginning to shift, soft in places it hadn’t been months ago, glowing with the quiet strength of what you carried. And the dress wasn’t there to hide it. It was designed to honor it.
A deep neckline, silk that draped like water over your hips, the faintest shimmer that caught the light every time you moved.
Your hand found your belly, still barely visible. But you felt it. Bucky’s child. Yours.
“You’re not just a bride,” Peach said softly behind you. “You’re a monument.”
You turned, blinking back tears.
Peach held up a tissue like a threat.
“Don’t you dare. We’ve got twenty minutes. You cry now, and the stylist will have to reapply your entire face. And Steve’s already crying and pretending he’s not, so that’s my job for later.”
You smiled. “He is?”
“Oh, he’s wrecked. I caught him sneaking a look at Bucky, who’s pacing the beach like a caged panther. He’s muttering to himself and holding the rings like they’re gonna disappear.”
Your stomach fluttered with nerves, joy, and a little nausea.
Peach stepped forward and took your hands.
“You ready?”
You nodded. “I think so.”
“Good. Because this wedding? It’s not about proving anything. Not to family. Not to guests. Not even to yourselves. It’s just the loudest, brightest way to say what you already know.”
Your voice was barely above a whisper.
“That he’s mine.”
Peach nodded.
“And you’re his. For good.”
You took one last look in the mirror, breathed in deep, and exhaled slowly.
Then you whispered to your reflection, “Let’s go get married.”
—--
Bucky’s palms were sweating.
Which was absurd, given what his hands had done in past lives. They done some dangerous things and they had been steady. Always.
But not today.
Today, his hands were waiting to touch you, his future wife. And for the first time in years, he was nervous in a way that had nothing to do with power, and everything to do with love.
He stood at the edge of a terraced garden that sloped down toward the sea, the salt air heavy with hibiscus and lavender. The villa behind him had hosted billionaires and heads of state, but none of them mattered.
The only thing that mattered was the sound of soft footsteps behind him.
He adjusted the cuff of his navy linen jacket, one of three that had been custom-made for this day. Steve had rolled his eyes earlier, muttering something about Bucky becoming a goddamn peacock in his old age.
But then again, Steve hadn’t seen you yet.
You had insisted on a first look. Said he couldn’t badger his way into seeing the dress ahead of time, but you’d give him this moment before the wedding.
Something private. Just for you two.
And thank God for that, because Bucky already felt like he was going to drop to his knees.
“Buck,” came Steve’s voice from behind him, sarcastic.
“If you pass out, I’m not carrying you.”
Bucky cracked a shaky grin but didn’t turn around. Not yet.
He heard your laugh before your voice. The sound of Peach’s heels clicking nearer.
And then…“James.”
He shut his eyes for a second. Took a breath like it was his first in years. Then he turned. And the world fucking stopped.
You stood in the garden light, hair swept up, veil fluttering slightly in the sea breeze, and the gown…Jesus.
Bucky couldn’t breathe.
You looked like a dream he was afraid to wake from. The silk clung in all the right places and glowed against your skin, soft and strong and completely you.
His eyes dropped to your hand and the ring he gave you glittering in the afternoon light, and then lower, to the barely-there swell of your belly, where his child grew.
His voice cracked as he said your name.
You stepped forward, nervous for only a second until you saw the look in his eyes.
He was ruined.
Bucky’s throat worked as he blinked hard.
“You look…”
“Yeah?” you teased, suddenly shy.
“Arăți ca pentru totdeauna. You look like forever,” he said hoarsely.
He reached out, fingers brushing your waist like you were made of spun sugar, like you’d disappear if he held on too tightly. But you didn’t disappear.
You stepped right into his arms, melted into him, and he kissed your temple carefully.
“I love you,” you whispered into his neck.
His voice was raw. “I love you more.”
You pulled back to look at him, hands resting lightly over the lapels of his jacket.
“Still nervous?”
He shook his head.
“Not anymore.”
—---
The ceremony was held at golden hour on a bluff overlooking the Aegean. The aisle curved through native sea grass and white stone, petals scattered with the ocean spread wide behind the altar.
Bucky waited, heart racing, jaw tight, in the very center of it all.
Steve stood at his side, a rare look of reverence on his face. The man had been his right hand through everything it took to build an empire. But nothing had ever made Steve sniff back emotion like this.
“She’s coming,” Steve said under his breath as Peach walked toward him. “Try to stay upright..”
Bucky didn’t reply.
And then he saw you and everything went still.
You stepped into view, arm tucked gently through your stepfather’s, veil floating behind you, dress glowing like it had been dipped in starlight.
Bucky swore the sun dimmed itself just to let you shine.
He’d seen you earlier, kissed you, held you, but this was different.
This was sacred.
Reaching the altar, Peach dabbed her eyes discreetly, and tucked in beside Steve. He reached for her hand. His grip trembled and he leaned close and whispered something only she could hear. She nodded, then pressed a kiss to his knuckles.
But Bucky couldn’t see them anymore.
He saw only you.
And you were looking right at him. Like there was no one else. No crowd. No ceremony. Just him.
He pressed two fingers to his lips, then to his heart.
You felt it. A vow without words.
Your stepfather leaned in and whispered, “He loves you, baby girl,” before placing your hand into Bucky’s.
The officiant spoke, but neither of you heard a thing.
“Okay?” he mouthed.
You nodded, eyes shining. “You?”
His laugh was pure joy.
“Not even a little.”
The ceremony passed in a blur of gold and sea wind and reverent silence. There were a few readings, a pointed look from Peach when the phrase “in passion and peace,” was spoken, and Steve chuckled under his breath.
Bucky barely registered it.
He watched your lips shape the words “I choose you,” like they’d been written into his skin.
And when it was his turn, his voice cracked.
N-am crezut niciodată că merit așa ceva, dar jur pe Dumnezeu că voi petrece fiecare zi demonstrând că merit.
“I never thought I’d deserve something like this,” he said, eyes fixed on yours. “But I swear to God, I’ll spend every day proving I do.”
The officiant smiled.
“I now pronounce you…”
Too late.
You were already reaching for him, grabbing his lapels and pulling him in like you couldn’t wait another second.
The kiss was deep, sweet and improper.
The crowd gasped. Peach hooted. Steve muttered “Jesus, you two,” and shook his head, but there was a grin on his face big enough to rival the ocean.
You and Bucky walked back down the aisle hand in hand, both of you beaming, radiant with something wild and holy.
He leaned close as the cheers swelled behind you, eyes flicking down your body.
You bit your lip and winked at your new husband as you leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek.
“No panties. Just like you said. And shaved bare, too.”
Bucky didn’t stumble, but he damn near did.
You kept walking, serene and glowing beside him, your veil floating like a flame in the breeze.
Bucky was wrecked.
And the happiest he’d ever been in his life.
—-
The villa was quiet when you arrived and bathed in candlelight, the ocean’s rhythm a soft pulse through the windows. Someone had come in ahead of you; peonies floated in the clawfoot tub, and bottles of water chilled beside a tray of honey-dipped figs and dark chocolate.
But you didn’t notice any of it right away.
You noticed Bucky.
He kicked the door shut behind him, jacket already off, shirt unbuttoned halfway down his chest, his gaze raking over you like he was starved.
He’d kept himself in check all day.
Ceremony, photos, dinner, the toast that Peach gave that wrecked you both, he’d kept it buttoned up.
But now he was unhinged. It shocked him how much he wanted you.
“Come here,” he said, voice raw.
You turned slowly, silk rustling as you moved toward him like a dream he’d been chasing his whole life. And when you were close enough to touch, he did.
His hands found your waist and then lower, gathering your gown in his fists, dragging the fabric up inch by inch until the whole thing slipped off your body and pooled at your feet.
And Christ.
There you were.
“Fuck,” he whispered against your mouth. “You’re so goddamn beautiful, sweetheart. Look at you. Mine.”
His lips dragged over your collarbone as he walked you backward toward the bed, relishing the fact that you were bare under his hands. He groaned as his palms found your breasts, thumbs grazing over sensitive nipples.
“You’ve been teasing me for days,” he said, breath hot against your neck. “All that talk about the dress. And what you’d wear underneath.”
“You like?” you asked, breathless.
Bucky smirked.
“I love you bare. Shaved. Soaked for me. So gorgeous.”
He sank to his knees in front of you, pressing a kiss to the gentle swell of your belly. His hands were splayed over your hips, grounding himself.
“But it’s not just this,” he murmured, voice thick.
“It’s not just how perfect you look. It’s everything. Your laugh. Your voice. The way you make me feel. The way you look at me.”
You were already shaking under his praise, thighs trembling, breath catching. His tongue dipped into your navel and swirled, making goosebumps peak.
“It gets me hard, Frumoasă. Really fucking hard. But that’s not why I love you. You’re kind. You’re sassy. You’re good. And you’re real.”
You whimpered, hips twitching.
“To find someone gorgeous, sweet, smart, hilarious, and mine? That shit’s not real. It’s not. But you are.”
His mouth moved lower, and you barely had time to moan before his tongue slid through your folds, filthy and slow. He groaned like a man who’d been craving this all night, gripping your hips and dragging you closer.
You cried out, one leg lifting automatically over his shoulder, and he buried his mouth deeper. Your hands tangled in his hair, tugging hard. But he didn’t stop. Not until you shattered against his tongue, sobbing his name, your body convulsing from the force of it.
Only then did he rise, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he stared you down.
“You’re already wrecked,” he rasped. “And I haven’t even fucked you yet.”
He undressed without looking away. Shirt, belt, trousers, all gone in seconds. His cock was already hard, thick and heavy, flushed dark and wet.
And when he crawled over you, he took a beat to just look at you.
“Still with me, Mrs. Barnes?”
“Always,” you whispered.
And then he sank into you, slowly, inch by agonizingly thick inch, stretching you around him until he was seated to the hilt and barely breathing.
“Goddamn,” he groaned, forehead pressed to yours, eyes shut like he was in pain.
“You feel like…fuck, you feel like coming home.”
You whimpered, your hips rolling to meet him. He started to move, deeper with each thrust, building a rhythm that made the headboard knock the wall and your name fall from his lips like he didn’t know how to stop saying it.
He kissed your breasts, your neck, your mouth, his hand slipping between you to trace soft circles over your clit. But what wrecked him, what destroyed him, was when his hand slid to your belly again.
Right over where your baby was growing.
“We made something,” he choked out, voice breaking. “Right here. Inside you.”
“You made me yours,” you whispered.
“I always will.”
You came again, sobbing his name, your walls fluttering around him. And Bucky followed with a groan, burying himself deep inside you as he spilled, clutching you tight, and shaking from the force of it.
Later, he carried you to the bath, washing you gently, like something priceless.
You curled between his thighs as warm water lapped at your skin, the scent of gardenia rising with the steam.
He kissed your shoulder and the back of your hand.
“You’re everything,” he whispered.
“My love. My future. My family.”
You turned in his arms, pressing your lips to his.
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Summary: James Bucky Barnes is an avowed bachelor and one night stand artist. You came along and knocked him on his face. You two are in love, but you two are both stubborn. Will you both put aside your pride to make this work? Can one or both of you be humbled?
Word count: 3.5 K
Pairing: Art Dealer (mob boss) Bucky Barnes x Reader
A/N: This fic is connected to the Knock You Down AU, and comes immediately after ...As Hard As I Did but I feel it can be read as a stand alone. It is in answer to this ask. Seb Stan's latest pics and this press run is making me feral. I can write these two ALL DAY!!!! Y'all are gonna have to deal with this for a while, sorry not sorry.
Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. This is the filthiest these two have gotten. Ms. Independent Syndrome, Mr. Chauvanist condition. Argument, angst, the silent treatment, tipsy girl's night out revenge, jealous Bucky, jealous reader, handsy random Drunk guy, who gets laid out. Sam shows up. Dom/sub elements, mild BDSM exploration. Spanking, orgasm denial, humiliation kink, praise kink, talk of voyeriusm kink, begging, use of Daddy, use of google translate Romanian. Not Beta'd. All errors my own.
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I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.
-------
James Buchanan Barnes didn’t own you.
But he thought he did.
It was infuriating.
After a month of dating, you’d had your first fight. Bucky always paid whenever you went out, and last Sunday, when you both reached for the check at brunch, there was a slight tussle.
You laughed as Bucky scowled, thinking he was joking, but he was dead serious about paying. You became indignant, and you may have called him a controlling crime boss.
Bucky definitely called you an entitled brat and you may have stormed away and walked home, refusing to get back in the car with him. Bucky followed you in his sportscar as you pretended he wasn’t there.
You were shaking with rage by the time you reached your brownstone and Bucky parked illegally.
“Frumoasă, let’s talk–”
“There is nothing to talk about, James. If you can’t respect my boundaries, then I don’t know what to say. I need space. Time to think.”
You glanced at him, but you looked away from the hurt on his face.
“What does that mean?”
You cringed at the hurt in his voice.
“I– we. Listen, you were right. We went way fast with this. It’s a lot, Jamie.”
You loved the fuck out of this man, but you felt like you couldn’t breathe.
“Are you breaking up with me?”
Bucky’s voice cracked and you looked up into his ocean blue, watery eyes.
“No?”
“Are you sure?”
“No. I’m not sure, James.”
“I thought you were mine?”
You paused and took a deep breath.
“You don’t own me. You can’t do whatever you want…”
Bucky just looked at you as if he were about to debate that fact. Then, he raised his hands and backed away.
“Our dinner date still stands. Maybe Saturday night, we can talk about this like adults…”
Your ire was raised once again.
“I am an adult, Bucky. And you are too. You should listen to me when I-”
Bucky interrupted you and ran his hand through his hair, which he had been growing out. Just for you. He was extremely frustrated.
“This relationship has been predicated on nothing but your boundaries.”
It was a standoff. You two stared at each other, an invisible wall between you. You didn’t like how it felt.
“Like I said, we need a break.”
“We agree on something, at least.”
Bucky turned and walked back to his car, and you both closed your doors at the same time, hearts beating out of tune.
—-
You only cried for a couple of hours that day, but when you woke up to no good morning text from Bucky on Monday morning, you cried again. You were hurt, angry and anxious. Were you two over and done with? You threw yourself into work, trying not to feel your emotions.
By Tuesday, Bucky was being driven mad with images of you, sensations of holding you in his arms, feeling your body around him, your voice telling him that you loved him.
Steve sensed his mood, but did not press him, just complied when Bucky asked him to speed up the timeline to divest themselves of all illegal enterprises.
On Wednesday, you were feeling some kind of way. How dare he just ignore you and pretend you didn’t exist. Was he trying to punish you or something? You didn’t realize how much Bucky’s attention mattered to you. But you bet he knew very well. You decided to have big, big fun that night with your girls.
Of course, Bucky still had eyes on you, so he knew you were safe, but he told Nico and crew to fall back a little. He didn’t want to crowd you. But he was going crazy at the fact that you didn’t reach out to him. He was giving you the space you requested and hoped that you would come back to him of your own accord. He wasn’t going to force you to do anything. It was a matter of principle, not pride.
At least that was what he told himself.
There were some things you needed to understand, however. Bucky was just trying to take care of you. You loved him, and he loved you. This thing was destiny. And you couldn’t run from that.
Wednesday night, he got a text from you. He sighed as he headed toward your location.
—-
You wore a more revealing outfit than you usually did. You were wearing a backless top that showcased your braless breasts and the cool night had sharpened your nipples into hard peaks, pressing through the thin material. You may have been thinking about Bucky tearing the top off of you roughly, or taking off carefully, or leaving it on you as he fucked you. He would still pay attention to your nipples no matter what. You were horny for your man, and not thinking about tempting anyone else.
So you decided to break the ice and send him a selfie.
When Bucky didn’t respond, you got angry all over again. How dare he just continue to ignore you? You were a queen, and you were going to act like one. You went to the club, got tipsy, and acted as if you were in college again, taking drinks from anyone who offered. And there were lots of offers. You danced with your girls, and later, with the men who bought you drinks.
It was all harmless fun, right?
Through the crowd and the flashing lights, you saw a familiar profile, a head of hair and those unmistakable shoulders. Bucky was there, and his body language indicated that he was aware and interested in what you were doing.
So you gave him a show.
A woman came up to him and he looked down at her, a small smile on his lips. A jolt of jealousy rocked your body when he moved to a quiet corner with her and of all the colors in the club, all you could see was red. When she smiled up at him and her hand reached for his arm, you began grinding on the body behind you.
The man pulled you closer and practically yelled in your ear.
“You come here often?”
You rolled your eyes as his hands squeezed your hips and moved down.
“Yeah. Let’s just dance.”
You moved his hands away but then they glided over your stomach and skimmed your back, thumbs brushing dangerously near your top. He pulled you even closer and started grinding as you tried to keep his octopus arms off of you. You glanced toward the corner and saw one person talking on the other locked in on you. And then moving in your direction.
You were relieved and terrified, because what had you gotten yourself into?
And what was Bucky going to do now? He looked like an animal, stalking his prey, dangerous.
The stranger moved his hands again and you recoiled, just as Bucky’s hand landed on your bare shoulder.
“That’s enough. Time to go.”
The random guy chucked his chin up at Bucky.
“Who the fuck are you? Me and my girl are dancing here.”
You heard a record scratch, even though the music was still blaring.
“What did you say?”
Now you were afraid for this man’s life.
“C’mon James, let’s go. He’s drunk off his ass.”
You tried to pull him away, but he was not moved, staring down the man who would go down if Bucky breathed on him the wrong way. After a second, Bucky turned toward you, fury in his eyes.
You breathed a sigh of relief, even though you knew you were in for it. But Drunk Guy just had to open his mouth.
“Fucking whore. Acting like a slut on the dance floor and then leaving with this—”
And it was lights out for Drunk Guy, because Bucky Barnes laid him out flat with one punch.
Sam appeared out of nowhere to control the crowd as Bucky steered you through the crowd. His tense hand on your back sent a flash of dark excitement through you. He guided you by the elbow through the kitchen of the club. He took off his jacket and draped it around your shoulders before taking you out to the cold alley to his waiting car. He walked you around the passenger side and opened the door, but before you could get in, a tug on your arm sobered you up.
You turned to see so much ice in Bucky’s glare. It was terrifying and thrilling at the same time.
“You are in so much trouble,” Bucky’s lowly growled threat made goosebumps rise on your skin.
“What do you mean?”
You shaky voice belied your nerves.
“Get this clear, Frumoasă. You are, in fact, mine. That man’s hands were all over your body. All over what was mine.”
Bucky was leaning down, face close to yours, rage barely contained. You knew he would never truly hurt you, but…
“I had things under control,” you urgently whispered back. You wouldn’t back down from him.
“What about you? Who were you huddled up with in the corner?.”
Bucky’s eyes glinted.
“Jealous?”
He got even closer.
“No, you are,”
Bucky’s jaw tensed, and a vein pulsed in his neck. You hit a nerve.
“I know that woman from… from before you. She means nothing to me.”
Bucky brought his hand up to your neck and buried his fingers in the hair at the nape of your head. He tangled your curls and tugged, none too gently, bringing your eyes up to meet his.
“I don’t want her. There is no one but you. “
You were trembling in his grip, panties soaked, mouth open for breath. Seeing Bucky this worked up brought out something in you. Something you didn’t realize was there.
“Take me home, James.”
“Y/N.”
His voice chilled you. He gave you a cold smile.
“I said you were in trouble, and I meant it. You’re getting punished.”
Your jaw dropped, and your face flamed as you started to say something. But a wave of need crashed into your cunt. You were intrigued.
“What are you going to do?”
Your voice wavered despite your efforts to appear calm. Good lord you wanted this.
“What you deserve,” he said calmly, gesturing for you to get into the car. You resisted.
“Tell me now.”
He indicated the car again and you sat down, trembling as he buckled you in and walked around to the driver's seat. You took a deep breath before he got in himself.
Bucky leaned toward you menacingly.
“You have driven me to the edge these past few days, Y/N. I love you, I don’t know how else to explain this to you, so I’m going to show you tonight with a consequence for your actions. Either you accept that consequence and come to my place, or I drive you home. And we seriously reconsider what we’re doing here.”
You looked into his icy blues and you knew he was serious. You two had talked about some kinks and limits while starting to experiment with his more dominant side and your submissive side. These versions of you first manifested when you called him ‘Daddy.’ Punishment and reward was a heavy theme in your verbal foreplay. A little humiliation and praise was mixed into your physicality, and it thrilled you.
Bucky made you feel safe, and tonight you had been unsafe.
“I’ll take my punishment, Daddy.”
Bucky’s eyes stuttered half closed, but he quickly recovered, managing to stay cool toward you as he whispered a gruff, “Good."
He started the car and pulled into the street, headed toward Brooklyn.
"Now sit back and make yourself invisible. I’m trying to calm down and I need to concentrate to not be too rough with you when we get home."
You settled back into your seat, thinking hard about that word, ‘home.’
—--
Bucky virtually ignored you until you got into his bedroom, and you surprised yourself with how much you just wanted him to look at you. You were a whore for his attention. And now you knew that he knew that.
That’s when you realized that your punishment had already begun.
You walked ahead of him on shaky legs on the deep pile carpet of his bedroom, legs shaking and heat emanating from your core. You felt his hand tug you to a stop as he turned you around to face him.
Bucky took his jacket off of your shoulders as he finally looked at you, admiring the pout on your face.
“You were a good girl. So silent on the ride over and in the elevator.”
You shuddered as he spoke and as his fingers touched your bare shoulders.
“You like being a good girl for me, don’t you?”
His palm moved from your shoulder up to your cheek.
“Yet you weren’t a good girl earlier tonight, were you?”
He was so close to you, his lips millimeters from yours.
“James, please –”
The space between your lips was driving you crazy.
“I think you need to be spanked, Frumoasă.”
His voice was so calm, in contrast to the whirlwind inside you. You were anxious, but you wanted this in your soul.
“We will talk while I spank you. You have got to understand how much I care for you. How much I love you.”
Anger with a rush of excitement coursed through your body.
“I— This is— Fuck,” you whispered.
Bucky pecked your lips, allowing just one bright spot of tenderness before he abruptly sat down on the edge of the bed.
“Over my lap, Frumoasă.”
“Christ, James.”
“Now.”
His eyes were iceberg blue. There was no trace of soft Bucky.
“Or I will put you there myself.”
“Do it,” you whispered, ever defiant.
In an instant, you were thrown over the bed like you weighed nothing, and flipped onto his lap.
“There we go.”
His satisfied voice made you shiver. A large hand slipped off your heels and peeled your leggings down your legs. You squirmed, knowing that he could see the wet spot on your your panties.
“Esti atat de frumoasă iubirea mea.” You are so beautiful my love.
He smoothed your panties against your wet crease before he yanked them down in one swift movement, exposing you to the cool air in his bedroom.
“I’m going to enjoy this. You, not so much,”
“Get on with it.”
“Watch your mouth, and stop rolling your eyes.”
Bucky squeezed your ass cheek as he read you like a book, and you braced for a blow.
“Don’t hurt me,” you pleaded in a whisper, chastened now.
“This isn’t going to be about pain.”
You rubbed your nipples against the comforter, searching for some relief to the sexual tension coursing through your body.
“Then what?”
You were breathless as he rubbed circles on your ass. A slap landed, quick and stinging, causing you to jump.
“It’s about you being a spoiled little princess.”
His voice was rougher. Oh Lord. That nickname was your undoing. It felt so right.
“I am not!”
You gasped when he spanked you again, heat radiating from the spot.
“Brat. Don’t contradict me.”
Fingers slipped into your folds.
“See? A spoiled, wet princess.”
You bucked, lifting your ass to his touch, not trying to hide your reaction.
“Mmm, you like being called that, don’t you? Your body can’t hide the truth.”
“Daddy…”
You buried your face in the bed as he rubbed your clit. How could he be so calm?
“That’s it, Prinţesă Open up for me.”
More spanks made you moan wantonly.
“I’m going to fuck you you here…”
Two fingers moved deep into your cunt..
“…And here.”
He lightly stroked the cleft of your ass.
“Yes, I want you there. Please!”
Bucky’s intake of breath told you that he hadn’t expected your response.
“Iti place, Prinţesă aia? You like that?”
“God, it feels so good.”
Bucky circled your tight hole and worked a finger inside.
“Fuck, you feel so tight and untouched,” he crooned as you arched into his hands.
“Almost innocent. But you are anything but, aren’t you? You were acting like a slut earlier. Letting him touch what’s mine.”
“James—”
You were angry and yet so close to cumming at the same time.
Bucky laughed.
“You wanted attention, now you have it. Do you want me to have Sam bring him here to watch me do this to you? Or should I just call Sam? Or Steve? Or Nat? All three perhaps? You need an audience, Frumoasă?”
You were so wet at what he was saying despite your embarassment.
“Look at you.”
His voice was so condescending. Why did that get you even wetter?
“You are so worked up over the idea. They’d be eager. They all say how fine you are, and how they would have you right where I do if I hadn’t made the first move.”
You pussy spasmed as he plunged two fingers inside you again while his thumb pressed down on your clit. He pulled away before you could fall over the edge and you grunted in frustration.
“It’ll never happen though, because you’re mine. My little slut. My cum whore.”
A smack stung your ass.
“Fuuuckkkk, Jamie….”
You were shuddering, shaking, creaming all over his hand.
“My pure and total slut. In every way.”
You kicked, your ass fluttering around the two fingers he had inserted. Your pussy was gushing, but you could find no relief. Another hard smack rained down and you cried out.
“Do you think I could ever look at anyone else while you are in the world, Frumoasă? A thousand women could be in here — naked, begging — and I wouldn’t look their way. Not once."
“James—”
“Not when you’re here, so pretty on my lap, with your pussy on fire and your body desperate for what I can give you.”
You whimpered and tried to close your legs for pressure on your clit, but Bucky spread your thighs with his hands and stared down into your shiny, wet cunt.
“And you're not just desperate.”
Bucky was relentless.
“You're greedy. They would have to watch while I fucked you, because you can’t wait.”
“Oh, fuck, Jamesssss!”
“That’s why I give you all my time, my attention, all my money, because I will give you anything you ask for. And more, Frumoasă.”
You hid your face, slung over his lap, and his big fingers began stroking in and out of you again.
Lightning bolted through you.
You gasped and clamped down on his hand. You came so hard. And then he was spanking you again. Your ass was numb now.
Somehow you wound up on the bed, belly-down, knees on the floor with Bucky kneeling behind you. You arched your back, body begging for him. Another slap landed on your heated ass.
“Look at you, putting on a show. Just like earlier in the middle of the dance floor. But all of this is mine. No one else’s.”
Bucky grasped your breasts through your thin top and you whimpered, face down on his bed, presenting for him, spreading your legs, beckoning him to stop the torture and enter you.
“Need your cock, Daddy. Please. I’m sorry!”
A sudden smack on your clit made you cry out. Pleasure bloomed out from your cunt and your thighs were now soaked.
“Yes, you need me. And it’s okay. It’s okay to be taken care of, to lose control. I’ve got you Frumoasa.”
For once, you had nothing to say, you just gripped the covers as Bucky lifted your hands and moved them behind your back, holding them together.
“I wish you could see your ass right now, Baby.”
His voice was husky with lust.
“It’s so red and so warm. So fucking beautiful. But you deserve my cock, too, don’t you?”
He sank into you without warning, your wetness enabling him to sink in with one thrust. You were helpless; you just had to take it. You moaned as his thumb entered your ass as he squeezed your hip. And you felt so full, fucked sensless by his relentless nature.
“So fucking wet,” he growled. “And you want me to fuck your ass.”
“Please, Daddy…”
You were sobbing now, wanting everything he was giving you, everything he was saying, and more.
“Please cum inside me.”
“Good girl,” he whispered. “Love it when you beg. You should see the creamy goodness you are leaving around my cock..”
Bucky threw his head back and moaned, shutting his eyes tight from the erotic sight. His thrusts became erratic as his cum hit your wet, hot walls. Your mouth opened in a wide O and a silent scream as you came around him.
He growled as he finished, his hand rubbing your back as he softened inside you. You slumped against the bed as he rained kisses down your spine.
“Are you okay, Prinţesă?”
You smiled.
“More than okay.”
Bucky smiled and kissed your forehead before retreating to the bathroom. He came back, cleaned you up, and helped you to fully undress as you climbed into his bed.
He went to the kitchen to get a glass of water for you and made you drink, before he took off his clothes and climbed into bed with you and took you into his arms.
“Do you still love me, Y/N?”
Confident, dominant Bucky Barnes was gone. You looked up into his uncertain blue eyes.
“Of course I do. I wouldn’t have come with you if I didn’t. I love you, James Barnes. I’m still yours. It’s just— I’ve been taking care of myself for so long that I don’t know how–”
Bucky put his finger over your lips.
“That’s all I wanted to hear right now. Let’s get some rest. We will talk in the morning. I’m not letting you go without a fight. I love you, so much, Frumoasă.”
Pairing: Art Collector (Mob)!Bucky Barnes x Reader (Frumoasa)
Summary: You and Bucky are so back
Word Count: 450 wds. (I keep slippin')
Sexy September Scribbles day 15: “Beg prettier, sweetheart. I know you can.”
A/N: More Bucky and Frumoasa sooo much! This is part of their story in the Knock You Down AU. They get away for some quality time. 😏 Let me know it is in fact, quality.
Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. Smut! Bucky Barnes is a warning. Established relationship, reader is a slut for her husband, and he knows it, Bucky uses that Romanian, Soft! Dom Bucky, use of sex toy, pain as pleasure, begging, rough sex, raw, thick p in v.
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I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.
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The hotel room smelled of roses and expensive whiskey, but all you could feel was the velvet kiss of the flogger trailing down your spine.
Bucky leaned back in the armchair, legs wide, the bulge in his expensive dress pants making you thirsty. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, and those blue eyes were locked on you as he flicked the handle and let the tails whisper across your clit.
You moaned, shifting on the sheets where he had you kneeling. He only chuckled.
“Beg prettier, sweetheart. I know you can.”
Your head tipped forward, breath catching. God, you’d missed this. Missed being more than a mother, missed the way he stripped you down to raw need and worship.
“Please, Bucky,” you gasped, arching when the velvet struck sharp. “Please, I need you…”
“Better.” His voice was molten.
The next strike was firmer, followed by the gentle caress of his fingers soothing where it landed. The rhythm pushed you higher, your body strung tight between the sting and tenderness, pleasure solidifying.
The next stroke landed harder, making you cry out, and then he soothed the ache, circling your ass, spreading you wider. He alternated: sting, caress, sting, caress, until you were shaking, cunt slick and desperately clenching.
When his hand finally cupped your throat and he bent close, whispering in your ear, you knew you’d beg as pretty as he wanted, just to have him break you open over and over.
“Look at you,” he murmured, sliding two fingers inside you, curling them just right. The flogger dragged across your shoulders, teasing.
“So fucking gorgeous when you break for me.”
You keened, rocking against his hand, but he only smirked.
“Patience, baby. I said beg.”
“I’m begging. Please, fuck me, Bucky, I need your cock.”
That earned you mercy.
He fucked you on his hand until you sobbed, and begged again. Only then did he unzip his pants, lining himself up. He dragged you back against him, pushing inside in one brutal, beautiful stroke. The flogger dropped to the floor as he commanded your hips, driving you back again and again.
Each thrust shook the bed, your cries muffled against the pillows until Bucky fisted your hair, pulling your head back so he could hear every sound. His arms flexed with the strain as he fucked you harder, relentless for your pleasure.
“Da, iubita,” he groaned against your ear, voice ragged. Yes, my love.
His lips brushed your neck, teeth grazing your skin.
“Țipă pentru mine. Spune-mi al cui ești.” Scream for me. Tell me whose you are.
You choked on a sob, body shaking as he pounded you mercilessly.
“A mea,” he growled. “Mereu a mea.” Mine. Always mine.
Pairing: Art Collector (Mob)!Bucky Barnes x Reader (Frumoasa)
Summary: Daddy turns you on.
Word Count: 471 wds 😔
Sexy September Scribbles day 8: “Oh, you like that?”
A/N: I've missed Bucky and Frumoasa sooo much! This is part of their story in the Knock You Down AU. There is a fic, almost fully written that comes before this in the time line, but screw it. And yeah, this is my first time breaking the 300 word limit, so put me in jail. But let me know how you feel about it.
Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. Smut! Bucky as a Dad is a huge warning. HUGE. Established relationship, reader is a slut for her husband, and he knows it, Bucky is a good dad, used to be her Daddy 😏. Fingering, quickie, reverse cowgirl, raw p in v, lil bit of cockwarming if you squint.
I do not have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘
I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.
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Saturday morning sunlight poured into the penthouse, and Bucky was on the floor with Luca. The two-year-old laughed maniacally as his father pushed toy cars across the rug, making ridiculous engine noises, his broad shoulders hunched, suit pants traded for sweats.
You leaned against the doorway, little Mira warm in your arms, and couldn’t look away. This highly respected man was grinning like an idiot every time his son giggled. The sight was unfairly sexy, giving you that feeling low in your belly.
He caught your gaze.
“What?” he asked, smirking as he let Luca climb over his back like a jungle gym.
“Never seen a man play monster truck before?”
You rolled your eyes, but your look gave you away. He handed Luca a car, murmured something soft to him, then pushed up to his feet in one smooth motion.
He reached you as soon as you set Mira in her bassinet beside you. His hand slid to your waist, mouth brushing your ear.
“Oh, you like that?” he murmured. “Watching me be a good dad gets you wet, doesn’t it?”
You glanced toward the living room, but Luca was too busy with his cars. Bucky chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple like the devoted husband everyone saw.
Then his lips grazed your jaw, and he whispered, “Don’t worry, Frumoasa. Once the kids go down for their nap, I’ll give you exactly what you need.”
Your knees went weak.
Later, when the kids were finally down, Bucky pulled you into the bedroom.
“You think I didn’t notice?” he muttered, sitting on the edge of the bed, looking up at you with those eyes.
Lord, those eyes.
“That look you gave me when I was playing trucks with Luca. Had you squirming.”
His hand was already between your legs before you could protest, finding you soaked. He grinned as he teased you, his fingers sliding through your slick.
“Me being Daddy makes you this wet?”
Before you could answer, he pulled your leggings down, spun you around and pulled you onto his waiting cock in one sharp thrust. You cried out, back arching, the stretch shocking.
It was always a shock.
“Fuck, Bucky…”
“That’s it,” he growled into your ear, setting a relentless pace as his hand went to your clit to form devastating circles.
“Take it. Quick and messy, just how you need it.”
You arched backward as he drove into you, his other hand closing around your throat.
“You’re mine,” he rasped, voice breaking with devotion as you shattered around him.
“My wife, the mother of my babies. My everything.”
He groaned, pulsing deep as he spilled inside you. His forehead dropped to your shoulder as you trembled with aftershocks, still perched on his still half-hard cock. Then he brushed his lips along your neck.
