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Six months after your discussion about tampons, Bucky finally made it. He fulfilled his promise and couldn't be happier.
“See, my pretty girl. I promised to keep those invaders out of you, and I kept my promise.” Bucky was busy nuzzling your crotch. His face buried in your lap, he talked to your vagina again. “I got her round, and now we can have as much fun as we want to. No more invaders touching any part of my sweet girl.”
“Bucky, that’s not funny!” You slapped the back of his head. He was a man obsessed and wouldn’t stop telling everyone, you know how he got you pregnant. “I still don’t know how you got me pregnant on my period. This is impossible.”
“Perks of the serum.” Bucky looked up at you, a cocky smirk on his face. “I told you that there’s no chance for your womb to stop my seed from growing inside of you. We made it.” He said to your vagina, not you. “My pretty girl only belongs to me now.”
“You’re unbelievable,” you groaned loudly, fingers tangling in his hair. “Bucky, we didn’t talk about having a baby yet. Now I’m pregnant only because you didn’t want me to use tampons.”
“Don’t mention them ever again,” Bucky growled before pressing his ear to your belly. “You can’t talk about these monsters in front of our baby.”
“You know that the baby will pop out of my vagina too,” you replied. Bucky’s head shot upward, but he didn’t look concerned. He was grinning again. “What’s so funny?”
“It’s my baby, doll. I don’t mind sharing my pretty girls with my baby.” Bucky chuckled at your angry expression. He was a little too excited about accidentally getting you pregnant.
“I know you got me pregnant on purpose, mister!” You accused, earning a stunning smile from Bucky.
“I know we never talked about children, but I want to have it all,” Bucky said, his voice cracking. “You know, when I was brainwashed and nothing but an empty shell, I never dared dream of having a wife, a baby, or at least a normal life.”
“You just ruined the stern speech I prepared,” you sniffled. “You can have it all, Bucky. We are in this together, you know. Me and you.”
“Me, you, and my pretty girl.” He grinned and knelt to nuzzle your crotch. “She allowed me to fill her up, and now, we are going to have a beautiful baby girl.”
Warnings: fun, fluff, domestic Dean, pregnant reader, partially a social media au
A/N: I tried something new for this one, using a fake text message creator. I created the messages myself. Can be read as a standalone fic.
Catch up here: Home alone
“Sam, have you seen Dean?” You call from the kitchen. “He’s missing dinner. Dean never misses dinner.”
“He wanted to get wine and napkins. Or something like that,” Sam replies and pokes his head into the kitchen. “Dean left half an hour ago.”
“Napkins? Dean wanted to buy napkins?” You frown deeply. “Dean only ever buys beer, pie, and his naughty magazines. You know, the ones he hides under our bed.”
“OH…he still likes them?” Sam’s cheeks are pink when he looks your way. “Dean has a weakness for these.”
“I don’t mind,” you chuckle. “I just wonder why he left to buy napkins. We wanted to have a movie night. And wine? I can’t drink.” You waddle out of the kitchen, rubbing your big belly. “He knows that.”
“Maybe he needed a break?” Sam winces at his words. “Sorry. It’s just…uh…domestic life, kids running around, a pregnant wife. Dean must be on the edge.”
“On. The. Edge?” You poke your index finger into Sam’s chest. “He’s lucky to have us.”
“Of course,” Sam says, showing his palms. “It’s just…sometimes a man needs a break.”
“Where is my husband?” You narrow your eyes and raise your voice. “I won’t ask twice, Samuel Winchester.”
“I don’t know, I swear. Dean said something about getting fresh air and wine and stuff. I was wondering about the wine and napkins too.” Sam slowly walks backward, keeping an eye on you. “Let me live.”
“Fine. I’ll find him myself,” you huff and turn on your heels. Sam watches you waddle toward your bedroom, careful not to wake your sleeping kids.
Back in your bedroom, you grab your phone. Dean never just runs off. If things get too intense, he comes to you. You’re worried something might have happened to your husband.
You’re about to type a message to him when a message from Dean pops up. You chuckle because he’s his silly self.
Twenty minutes later, you and Sam get out of your car. The younger Winchester sighs because Dean is running toward you, grinning like an idiot.
“Sweetheart!” He wraps his arms around you, peppering kisses all over your neck. “I knew you’d come and be my girlfriend.”
“She’s your wife,” Sam says. “What happened? Why are you like this?” He looks Dean up and down, frowning deeply. “What’s this?”
Dean looks down at his arm, stopping at the bracelet around his wrist.
“I don’t know.” He says, lifting his arm to look at the bracelet. “It looks nice.”
“Dean, that’s not yours.” Sam carefully grabs his brother’s wrist to take the bracelet off. Before he can get a better look at it, the bracelet turns to dust, and his brother falls to the ground, unconscious.
“Gabriel, get here. You motherfucker! I won’t ask twice!” You’re pacing the library, cursing the angels’ existence once again. “I know it was you!”
Gabriel appears out of thin air. He chuckles and winks at you. “I only gave Dean a break. He wanted to know how it feels to fight for you again. Your husband was missing the thrill of winning you over.”
You roll your eyes. “Dude, we role-play almost every week. This doesn’t mean he wants to forget we are married and that he got me pregnant for the third time. Stay out of our business.”
Dean chuckles as you growl in Gabriel’s direction. “Damn, sweetheart. I knew I married the right girl!”
“Damn right, Winchester. Now follow me to our bedroom…”
Alright, cool cats, it’s time to find your groove, and let the music lead the way.
For June, we’re trying something a little different… but don’t worry, the beat stays the same. There will still be an allocated prompt every day, only this time each prompt will be a song. The full setlist is below.
For anyone who feels a little uncertain, or doesn’t want the pressure of choosing where to start, we’ve also picked a line from each song to help narrow things down as a second option.
But for anyone feeling adventurous? You can absolutely choose another line from the song instead.
Your Scribble must contain at least one line from the song. It does not have to be the line we picked, and you’re welcome to use multiple lines if the music moves you.
We’ve also created a playlist so you can listen along with the full prompt list and really get into the June Jukebox mood.
The Goal: Write a Scribble of 300 words max, including the prompt/lyric line. We’d love people to try and stay as close to that as possible, but we’re here for the vibes, not to slap anyone with a ruler.
The Timing: You have until the end of the day in your own time zone to complete and submit each prompt.
The Swap-Outs: If a certain day’s song isn’t your jam, don’t stress. We’ve made sure there are options to swap out, so you can still keep the music playing.
Rules / Guidelines:
The final day for submissions is July 1st, end of the day in your own time zone. Please be aware that any entries submitted after this will not be added to the event masterlist.
For the event masterlist, we will link any users who have created their own Scribbles masterlist. For anyone who has not created a masterlist, we will link to their preferred profile instead. For example, if you have a sideblog, we will confirm this with you.
Please use the tag #JuneJukeboxScribbles (no spaces) so we can find your creations. Please do not use the tag after the event has ended. You’re also welcome to tag @societynsoelsscribbles if you wish.
Please use appropriate warnings for explicit content, non-con, triggers, etc.
Hard no content: No incest, underage, bestiality, or necrophilia.
Any 18+ entries must be posted by an 18+ listed blog to be included.
Here are no limits on the number of submissions for a prompt. Do as many as you like, just remember to use the #JuneJukeboxScribbles tag!
The target is 300 words, but should you go over, we will not scold, fine, or ban you… as long as you deliver (but please.. try)
The possibilities are endless. Any fandom, pairing, reader insert, OC, character, ship, tone, or genre is welcome; smut, fluff, angst, crack, horror, romance, heartbreak, whatever beat you hear.
Join as often or as little as you like. There is absolutely no pressure. Whether you drop one track or complete the whole album, we’re thrilled to have you playing along.
You can use our event header for your own entries or masterlist, but please credit Society.
So warm up the jukebox, spread the sound and get ready to jive to your own funk… Drum roll please!!!
Prompt list: (Playlist for all songs can be found here)
June 1st - Joy To The World - Three Dog Night / “I never understood a single word he said”
June 2nd - I Wanna Be Bad - Willa Ford / “No I can't promise that I won't do that”
June 3rd - Mack the Knife - Bobby Darin / “And he shows them pearly white”
June 4th - Right Place, Wrong Time - Dr. John / “But I'm having such a good time”
June 5th - Hey! Baby - Bruce Channel / “I'm gonna make her mine, all mine”
June 6th - Therefore I Am - Billie Eilish / “I don't think I caught your name”
June 7th - Jump (For My Love) - Pointer Sisters / “I know you like what you see”
June 8th - Living La Vida Loca - Ricky Martin / “I feel a premonition”
June 9th - Somebody That I Used To Know - Gotye / “Like when you said you felt so happy you could die”
June 10th - Pink Pony Club - Chappell Roan / “Every night's another reason why I left it all”
June 11th - Little Bitty Pretty One - Thurston Harris / “Tell you a story”
June 12th - Tainted Love - Soft Cell / “I cannot stand the way you tease”
June 13th - Town Without Pity - Gene Pitney / “Only those in love could know”
June 14th - Play That Funky Music - Wild Cherry / “Til you die?”
June 15th - Bad Habits - Ed Sheeran / “I got nothin' left to lose, or use, or do”
June 16th - Every Breath You Take - The Police / “Every smile you fake”
June 17th - Say Something - A Great Big World & Christina Aguilera / “It was over my head”
June 18th - Come and Get Your Love - Redbone / “What's the matter with you”
June 19th - Raise Your Glass - P!nk / “You can choose to let it go”
June 20th - All Shook Up - Elvis Presley / “Who do you thank when you have such luck?”
June 21st - Animal I Have Become - Three Days Grace / “I can't control myself”
June 22nd - Wonderwall - Oasis / “Because maybe”
June 23rd - I Believe In A Thing Called Love - The Darkness / “We'll be rocking till the sun goes down”
June 24th - Groove Is In The Heart - Deee-Lite / “No, I couldn't ask for another”
June 25th - Rude - MAGIC! / “I hate to do this, you leave no choice”
June 26th - Total Eclipse of the Heart - Bonnie Tyler / “There's nothing I can do”
June 27th - The Dark End of the Street - James Carr / “That's where we always meet”
June 28th - Northern Attitude - Noah Kahan (with Hozier) / “If I get too close”
June 29th - Mr. Brightside - The Killers / “But it's just the price I pay”
June 30th - Don’t Speak - No Doubt / “I know what you're thinkin'”
Swap-Out Tracks
Praying - Kesha / “I'm proud of who I am”
Don’t Stop Believing - Journey / “A smell of wine and cheap perfume”
Season of the Witch - Donovan / “When I look out my window”
Cry Me A River - Julie London / “Now you say you love me”
Daydream Believer - The Monkees / “You once thought of me”
Dancing Queen - ABBA / “Anybody could be that guy”
Warnings: angst, asshole Steve, roughness, I’ll label this dubcon throughout the story, rough sex, semi-public sex, mistreatment, (soft) dark Steve, toxic relationship, power imbalance, somnophilia, doggy style, pussy eating, smut, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, injuries, blood, possessive Steve, violence, a hint of fluff
A/N: Please heed the warnings for this story.
Natasha rolled her eyes when you longingly looked your boss’s way. She sighed and poured you a drink. “Y/N, stop wasting your time on Steve. He’s only going to break your heart or back. Maybe both.”
“No, you got it all wrong. He’s rough around the edges but treats the women he brings around so nicely.” You swooned, once again, over your boss. Steve Rogers. The co-owner of one of the most exclusive clubs in town.
“Girl, you better watch your back and panties around Steve Rogers,” Natasha, the bartender at the club, whispered. She didn’t want to catch Steve’s attention. He was a friend, but still her boss.
“I wouldn’t mind losing my panties around him.” You winked at her. “If you know what I mean, Nat.”
Natasha tried to talk sense into you, but you were looking at Steve again. “He’s not as sweet as he seems. Steve charms the ladies to get what he wants and drops them afterward. He’s not here for the long haul when it comes to relationships. Why don’t you look for a nice guy like Scott?”
“Scott?” You dipped your head to glance at the man sitting at the end of the bar. He wasn’t too bad to look at, had a solid job, and was nice. Natasha was right. Scott was a catch, but not the man you were yearning for. “No, he’s not it. He’s nice but…”
“You want to play with fire,” Natasha huffed while wiping the counter. “If you get burned, don’t come running to me, crying. I won’t hold your hand after he broke your heart.”
“What if he only breaks my back?” You sassed back, feeling Steve’s eyes on you. He looked at his expensive watch, frowning because your break was long over. “Shit, I think he’s mad.”
“You should go back to work and play with numbers instead of Steve’s balls,” Natasha joked, but her eyes narrowed in Steve’s direction. She knew about his habit of breaking women down to nothing, then molding them into perfect arm candies. The last thing she wanted was for him to break you too.
Steve watched you hop off the barstool to walk toward the back and get back to work. It’d be another long night. It wasn’t easy to make Steve’s business look legal. He was the leader of a criminal organization after all.
“Y/N, a word.” Steve was suddenly by your side. He slung his arm around your waist to guide you toward the back entrance.
“Uh—boss. I should head back toward my office. The numbers are waiting.” You nervously chuckled as he wouldn’t slow down. “Boss, I know I should’ve gone back to work ten minutes ago. I’m sorry I lost track of time.”
Steve didn’t say a word. He yanked you through the back door of the bar, the heavy door slamming shut behind you. You scrunched up your nose when the smell of dirt and stale beer hit your nostrils.
“Steve? Are you mad at me, boss? I told you I’m sorry…”
Steve spun you around and shoved you face-first against the rough wall. Your palms scraped the rough surface, and you squeaked at the sudden motion.
"You've been staring at me all night," Steve growled against your ear. His hand wrapped around your throat, forcing you to crane your neck. “You’re just another pathetic little slut wanting her fill.”
He roughly kicked your legs apart. One hand shoved your skirt up over your hips and ripped your panties off with one swift motion while the other worked his belt open.
You heard the zipper come down, heart racing. This was what you wanted, just not like this. Steve was rougher than expected, and you didn’t know how to feel when the thick head of his cock pressed against your bare cunt.
“Already wet,” he commented in a mocking tone. “I knew you'd be dripping for my cock like the whore you are. Remember, this is what you wanted.”
He slammed into you in one brutal thrust. You whimpered, the stretch burning, but he didn't give you time to adjust. Steve fucked you hard against the wall, hips snapping.
“You will take it,” he grunted. “That's all you’re good for. Just another tight hole for me to use.”
His fingers dug into your hips hard enough to leave marks on your body.
“Say it.”
You choked out a moan but uttered the words he wanted to hear.
“Say it louder, Y/N!”
“I’m your slut,” you gasped as he pounded deeper. “Only your slut, Steve.”
Steve laughed in your ear, his teeth tugging at your earlobe. “They all watched you make a fool out of yourself. You were walking around my bar like you deserve more than a quick fuck in a dirty alley.”
You were on the verge of tears, from the pleasurable pain, but also from the cruel reality finally setting in. Steve didn’t like you. He was using your body like he had used many before. You were no one special to him.
He reached around and rubbed your clit. Steve was a giver after all. He didn’t want the ladies to complain. ”Come on my cock, like the good whore you are. Listen to your boss.”
You whimpered his name when your high hit you. Your walls clenched around him, and he groaned, fucking you through it until his rhythm faltered. He buried himself deep and stilled his hips.
“Goddamnit, that’s a good little cunt.” He groaned in your ear, filling you up to the brim.
He pulled out, stepping away. Steve didn’t care that you couldn’t keep yourself upright. Your legs were shaking so hard that you lost your balance and ended up on the ground, cutting your leg on a shard. He tucked himself away, zipped up, and turned to leave.
“Here, clean yourself up and get back to work,” he spat, looking down at you like you were nothing but dirt. “What’s with the doe eyes? You wanted me to fuck you, remember? That’s how I treat the women I fuck. Are you happy now?”
You choked out a sob but didn’t tell him you were hurt in more than one way when he walked away, leaving you on the ground. His cum mixed with the blood seeping from the wound on your leg soaked the ground—a reminder of your downfall.
Steve was right. You wanted this. Him. All you were talking and fantasizing about was your boss, and you just paid the price for those daydreams.
Steve puffed out smoke when Sam joined him for a break. “So, Y/N is into you?” He smirked when Steve’s features darkened.
“Bucky talks too much,” Steve angrily replied. He couldn’t shake the image of you on the ground in that dirty alley for hours. It was for the best to keep you at arm’s length. “She’s just a love-sick puppy.”
“She’s a sweet one, Steve. You should leave her alone. I don’t think she’d survive you,” Sam joked, but Steve didn’t find it funny. He had already ruined you and your trust in him. There was no turning back now. His dark heart couldn’t let you in.
“Ah, are we talking about Y/N?” Bucky joined the conversation, grinning from ear to ear. He was the one riling Steve up earlier. “Did you already ask her out?”
“Shut up, James,” Steve hissed and took another sip from his drink. “You did enough tonight. I…I lost control and now…”
“Fuck,” Bucky blanched. His eyes widened, and he felt sick to his stomach. “What did you do, Steve? You didn’t kill her, right? Right…”
“Worse,” Steve grumbled under his breath. His eyes scanned the club, searching for a glimpse of you. “I ruined her.”
“Sex?” Bucky groaned. “Man, I thought you killed the sweet woman. So…was she good?” He grinned. “Did you make her cum?”
“I ruined her,” Steve repeated. He looked at Sam, seeing the judgment in the other man’s eyes. “I know, I know. You told me to leave her alone.”
“I told you not to treat her like the other women before her,” Sam chastised. “I’m not a saint, but hurting Y/N is a new low.”
Steve rose from his seat. He didn’t want to listen to his friend any longer. “I have something to take care of.”
Bucky chuckled while Sam angrily crossed his arms over his chest.
“He had to go and break the only nice woman at this club. Great,” Sam huffed and turned his attention back toward his drink. “I hope he at least puts a ring on her finger…”
“Nat, have you seen Y/N?” Steve asked after he circled the club for a second time. You weren’t at your office, the restrooms or the bar, and he slowly felt uneasy.
“Nope,” she replied, busy pouring another drink. “Not since you walked out of the back entrance with her some hours ago. It’s not my job to keep track of your employees, Steve.”
“I brought her to the hospital,” M’Baku casually said. He was about to take a break when he heard Steve talk about you.
“What? You brought her to a hospital?” Steve panted heavily. “Why? What happened?”
“Uh—I don’t know, boss.” M’Baku shrugged. “I walked out of the back entrance to smoke and found her on the ground. She was bleeding and looked like someone had attacked her.”
“Attacked. Her.” Natasha repeated. “Steve, did you leave her out there all alone?”
“How do you know she was attacked?” Steve growled, stepping closer. “Talk!”
“She was crying, bleeding, and looked like someone tugged at her clothing. I helped her up and drove her to Saint Mary’s Hospital. I wanted to call the cops, but she said no one hurt her. She slipped and fell.”
Steve didn’t listen any longer. He stormed toward the back entrance, fearing the worst.
“Mr. Rogers, please calm down. I can’t tell you anything about Ms. Y/L/N’s condition.” The doctor was breathing heavily while talking to Steve. “Please.”
Steve hesitated for only a second before he said, “Where is she? She’s my fiancée!”
“She’s still in the emergency room. We fixed her wound, and can release her any time,” the doctor stammered. He didn’t believe Steve, but he knew your boss’s reputation. The last thing he needed was to get Steve Rogers’ attention.
“Good. Bring me to her. I’m taking Y/N home.”
You were still dizzy from the pain meds they gave you when Steve carried you inside his home. He’d shown up without a word, picked you up in bridal style, and driven you straight to his place, not your apartment.
You were out cold before he even got you to the bedroom, the pain meds and exhaustion taking a toll on you. Steve laid you on your stomach to shelter your injured leg and stripped you down to your panties.
He huffed and walked out of the room, leaving you alone to clear his head. Steve had no clue why he brought you to his home and hated it.
Hours later, Steve stood in the doorway watching you sleep soundly, unaware of his presence. His cock was already hard again. He didn’t have to remember the way your walls clung to him not hours ago to get in the mood.
Steve climbed onto the bed behind you, carefully shoved your legs apart, and lined up again. You were still slick from your encounter earlier. He pushed inside in one slow thrust, groaning when your body accepted his intrusion. He started fucking you in deep strokes, one hand braced on the headboard, the other gripping your hip hard.
“Fuck, look at you,” he muttered, voice low and raspy. “Even asleep, you take my cock like a perfect little slut. You wanted this so bad you let me ruin you. Now you’re mine to use whenever I feel the need.”
He reached under you and pinched your clit, toying with it until your body twitched and a soft moan left your throat. Steve pulled out and flipped you onto your back, parting your legs.
His mouth was on your cunt before you could even open your eyes. He licked and sucked, tongue pushing in and out, then flattening over your clit.
“Steve!”
Steve growled against your pussy. “If you are in my bed, this is what happens.”
He didn’t stop before your thighs clamped around his head and you squirted all over his beard.
Steve crawled up your body, shoved your knees to your chest, and pushed back inside you. His eyes locked on yours as he fucked you roughly.
“You’re mine, Y/N,” he said. “No going back to your sweet fantasies.”
Steve woke with a groan. He was still inside your sore cunt, and already half hard. “You little vixen,” he cussed, but didn’t move. Steve nipped at your shoulder before slipping out of you.
When you finally woke up, you felt like your whole body was sore. You whined but didn’t dare to be too loud. You slipped out of bed, hoping to leave Steve’s place with what was left of your dignity. If you had any at all.
Steve watched you limp inside the kitchen, wearing the dress shirt he carelessly dropped to the ground last night. He took away your clothes, giving you no choice but to wear his shirt.
“Sit down and eat,” he said without looking at you. You sat on one of the stools at the kitchen island, glancing at Steve. He slid a plate in front of you, then poured a glass of orange juice. For a minute, you forgot how he treated you last night. You took a bite, watching him move around the kitchen like a domestic dream.
Steve had already finished his own plate and set it in the sink. He silently watched you, his eyes raking over your body. Seeing you in his clothes woke something primal in him.
He crossed the kitchen, grabbed you by the waist, and lifted you onto the kitchen island. Your plate shattered on the ground, but he didn’t care. Steve shoved your thighs apart and stepped between them, painfully hard behind his sweats.
“You’re mine to use,” he said. You barely had time to drop the fork before he yanked the shirt up and pushed inside of you. He didn’t wait. He fucked you right there on the kitchen island.
“Shit, baby. You’re still so fucking tight,” he muttered under his breath. “Even after I used your hole all night.”
He pushed you down on the kitchen island, leaning over you, one hand braced beside your head, the other wrapping around your throat.
“You’re mine,” he said, eyes locked on yours. “No other man can fuck you from now on.”
Suddenly, he kissed you. It was unexpected and breathtaking. His mouth moved against yours, tongue claiming your mouth.
Much too soon, he pulled back, looking almost surprised. He huffed and buried his face in your neck. Steve fucked you harder, until you came with a choked-out moan, walls fluttering around him. He followed a few thrusts later, groaning as he came inside you.
For a moment, he breathed into your neck, holding himself deep inside your pulsing cunt. You were still shell-shocked from the kiss when he pulled out. Steve looked at you, brows furrowed.
“Clean yourself up. You need to get back to work,” he said. “And don’t get any ideas about that kiss. It was just the heat of the moment.”
He walked out of the kitchen like nothing had happened, leaving you on the kitchen island with his cum leaking out of you.
You tried to focus on work, not the soreness in your body or the images flashing up in your mind. The rough treatment. How Steve abandoned you behind the club. And then, the kiss. It was rough and dominating, but it felt like so much more.
Steve found you in the office later that day, staring at the stack of papers on your desk. You were focused on getting the work done when he closed the door behind him and locked it without a word.
“You need a break,” he said, a question not in his words. You rose to your feet, careful to shelter your injured leg.
He walked you backward until your ass hit the edge of his desk, then lifted you onto it. Steve stepped between your thighs and pushed your skirt up. His fingertips traced the inside of your leg, careful around the fresh bandage.
You watched him push his hand inside your panties to find you already wet. Or still wet. You didn’t know at that point. It felt like your body was always ready to take Steve since your first encounter behind the club.
“You wanted me. Only me,” he muttered, almost to himself. His free hand unzipped his fly, freeing his cock. “You’re mine now to use.”
He shoved your panties aside to push inside. Slower this time, to make you feel all of him. His forehead pressed against yours as he started to fuck you in long, slow strokes. The desk started to creak under your weight, and you feared people outside could hear your coupling.
“Fuck,” he cursed. “I’m getting used to this nice little hole.”
His hand slid up your back and pressed you closer to his body. His mouth claimed yours again, softer and slower this time.
“You’re mine,” Steve murmured against your lips. “Don’t think I won’t break you even more if you look at some other guy.”
It was almost closing time, and Steve was casually walking around the club, saying goodbye to a few regulars. He was about to find you and take you with him when he heard commotion near the bar.
“Let go of me! I’m with someone.” You sounded distressed when he followed the noise. Some drunk asshole had his hand wrapped around your wrist while you tried to twist away. Your voice grew louder, telling him to back off, but the man just laughed.
Steve moved faster than M’Baku or one of the other bouncers. He grabbed the man by the collar, yanked him back, and slammed him against the bar hard enough to break his nose.
“Hands off her. She’s mine,” Steve angrily growled. “You touch her again, and I’ll break every bone in your fucking body, not just your nose.”
He dropped the man to the ground, waiting for his bouncers to take care of the trash. His eyes were already on you and your trembling hands.
“Back. Now.”
Steve didn’t wait for you to calm down. He wrapped one arm around your waist, guiding you toward the back of the club.
Inside the office, he carefully lifted you onto the desk to look you all over, checking for injuries.
“Are you okay?” he asked, voice softer than usual.
You nodded, afraid your voice would tremble if you spoke. He searched your face for a second, then leaned in to press a soft kiss to your temple.
“That’s my fault,” he murmured. “That fucker thought he could touch you because I didn’t clarify you’re mine. No one else gets to touch you.”
You didn’t know if he meant what he said. Steve was like a raging storm coming over you. He destroyed you, only to pick you back up. You only knew you were his, and he wouldn’t let you go anytime soon…
The bastard didn’t lie for once. When you returned to his place, the dining table was filled with delicious food. Bucky had ordered food from his favorite Italian restaurant to feed you.
“Eat up, gremlin. We have important things to discuss.” Bucky was impatiently pacing the room, glaring at you now and then before pacing again. “We need to talk about the upcoming wedding.”
You ignored his words and turned your attention toward more important things. Food. Delicious food. It smelled like it was out of this world, and you’d feast on it.
“Food,” you exclaimed and grabbed a plate. Bucky simply rolled his eyes as he was watching you add pasta, lasagna, and tiramisu to one plate. It was a long and exhausting day, and you didn’t know when you’d get your hands on food again. You never knew with Barnes.
“Gremlin, that’s disgusting. Take a second plate for dessert at least,” he huffed but couldn’t stop you from shoveling food into your mouth. “Christ, you look like you’re starving. I fed you not an hour ago. You truly are a gremlin.”
“I haven’t eaten properly for two days,” you said, almost choking on the food while speaking. “If you starve a woman, don’t act surprised when she cannot stop eating. You let that huge beast ruin my fries.”
Bucky licked his lips. He imagined your lips wrapped around something other than the spoon in your hand. “You’re a messy eater.”
“You’re an asshole,” you bit back before taking another bite of lasagna. “Why can’t you leave a woman alone? Wait—you’re not a virgin, aren’t you? I mean, that’d explain a lot. Your neediness. Your hopelessness when it comes to treating a woman right.”
You looked at him to enjoy the struggle on his face. “It’s not a shame. Though you shouldn’t kidnap a lady.”
“I’m not,” he huffed. “And I didn’t kidnap you. You stole from my friend, and you will receive punishment for your crime.”
“Your presence is punishment enough, don’t you think?” You huffed and went back to finishing your plate. “A woman must have a strong will to bear having you around all day.”
Bucky’s features darkened when he stepped closer to your seat to take the fork out of your hands. “The ladies never complained.” He darted his tongue out to lick it clean. You swallowed thickly, eyes dropping to his tongue.
“Like what you see, Cardsharp?” He purred before throwing the fork over his shoulder.
“I have seen better,” you commented. Bucky’s mask slipped for a split second, and that alone made the jab worth it. He was used to women fawning all over him. But you wouldn’t play his game.
“Go ahead and keep talking," he hissed, bracing both hands on the back of your chair. “One day, Cardsharp, that mouth of yours is going to get you in real trouble. And I don’t mean the funny kind of trouble with your mouth full of something better than food.”
You tipped your chin up and met his icy glare without flinching. “Funny, Barnes. I was just thinking the same about you.” You smirked up at him.
Bucky searched your face, a frown coloring his features. He didn’t scare you anymore, and he knew it. For a man like Bucky, being feared and respected is important. “If you keep on misbehaving, there will be no wedding.”
For a moment, neither of you moved. Bucky’s gaze narrowed. He squared his jaw and tried to find a way to make you shut up.
You pushed your now-empty plate away and leaned back in the chair. “So, let me get this straight. You kidnap me, threaten me every five minutes, call me a gremlin, and now you want to marry me?”
“It’s practical,” he replied with a shrug. “I need a woman taking care of my household, and to get my ma off my back. You are there. End of story.”
You snickered. “Practical? That’s what you call this shit show?”
His jaw tightened. “You need protection. From Steve, and the huge beast’s boss. He hates losing, you know. If he finds you alone and without protection, you are done for.”
“And whose fault is that? You ratted me out, Barnes.” You huffed. “I can’t believe I found you hot for a minute.”
Bucky inhaled sharply. “Y/N, I mean it. The owners of every casino were already looking for you. They just didn’t have a name and a face yet. If you go out there, I can’t protect you.”
You pursed your lips, ready to yell at him again. It was his damn fault that everyone in town knew that you were a cardsharp. “I hate you so much.”
Bucky smirked when you dug your fork into the tiramisu. “You can hate me all you want, gremlin.” He whispered in your ear. “A target is painted on your back, and half of town would sell you out for the right price.”
“You’re enjoying this, don’t you?” You scoffed before taking another bite of the dessert. “You are forcing my hand in marriage because you fucked my life up.”
“Oh, gremlin, you managed that on your own. "I wasn't the one telling you to cheat at the games,” he laughed in your face. “If you want to leave, go ahead. You’re missing out on a grand prime husband, but that’s none of my concern.”
“An arranged marriage is your solution. Awesome.”
Bucky moved his hand to your shoulder, squeezing it. “My solution is keeping you alive, Y/N. You risked your life playing with fire. Did you think people like Steve Rogers would play fair and follow the law?”
“I like to play with fire,” you replied.
Bucky laughed. “Yeah,” he said. “I noticed.” He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a folded document, setting it on the table in front of you.
“What’s that?” You eyed the paper warily as if it were going to explode any minute.
“Rules and terms.”
You stared at the papers. “You wrote me terms for an arranged marriage? When did you find the time?”
“I had someone write them,” Bucky admitted. “I have people for this like that.”
“Of course, you did.” You unfolded the pages, reading line after line. Your brows furrowed when you read about a time limit.
“Wait,” you said. “This isn’t permanent?”
“No. I want to save your sorry ass and calm my mother down,” he said.
You craned your neck to look at Bucky, anger in your eyes. “You were going to lead with that, right? You asshat!”
Bucky’s cheeks twitched for a moment before he spoke. “Eventually.”
“Unbelievable.” You huffed and turned your attention back toward the document. The more you read, the more your expression changed. The conditions were fair. No, more than fair.
Bucky noticed. Of course, he did. “You’re considering it,” he murmured.
“I’m considering how badly I could ruin your life while we are married.” You bit back with a grin. “I could waste all of your money, Barnes.”
