#biker marvel au

[jadedvibes]

Wanted

Summary: You consider ending things with Bucky after seeing a girl come on to him, but it's not that easy, and you get a hard reminder about who he really wants in the clubhouse bathroom.

Pairing: Beefy biker!Bucky x reader

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, unprotected rough possessive sex, oral sex (f), fingering, brief exhibitionism/semi-public sex, mirror sex, jealous and angry reader, biker slang/culture, slightly toxic angsty vibes with a happy ending, a lot of swearing, pet names, beefy!bucky (he needs a warning).

Word Count: 1.6k

Like, comment, and/or reblog to put a giant smile on my face ♡

Leaning against the counter you tried to slow your breath and calm down after what you had just seen. A slutty little sweet butt, practically grinding herself against the man you’d been seeing – the man you thought was yours. Hell, he hadn’t told you that you were his old lady, but countless nights tangled up in his sheets at the clubhouse had you thinking that you were something more. Anything more.  

You watched the way he smirked at her before you finally got sick of the sight and stormed into the bathroom down the hall. 

Embarrassment flooded you as you realized what a waste your efforts with him were. You tried your best to play it cool, go easy and casual with Bucky because that's the pace that he set. But now you knew that he was just stringing you along out of convenience. 

Deep blue eyes locked with yours as you stared into the mirror, the brawny biker slipping into the bathroom behind you. 

“You just couldn’t help yourself, could ya Buck?” you sneered at his reflection. 

“C’mon darlin’, don’t be like that.” His big, warm hands slowly slid around your waist from behind. 

You turned in his hold, glaring up into his stupid gorgeous eyes. He towered over you and his large frame took over the cramped space. Why did he have to look like that? All broody, and irresistible, and annoyingly beguiling. Just having his hands on you made you want to fall down the rabbit hole, pretend like it didn’t bother you, as if your heart wasn’t on the line and you were perfectly fine – but then he smirked. 

Anger rose up your chest as you looked at him, grinning at you like he did at her. Rage took over. “I’m fucking done with you!” you shouted, shoving his broad chest away from you, but he didn’t move an inch and you hated how hot that was. His body emanated power, and his presence made you weak. 

Bucky’s eyebrows raised, his mouth slightly opening as his gaze darkened. “Nothing happened, and nothing was gonna happen, honest,” he declared. He sounded sincere, and you despised the way you felt your hard exterior fragment at his words. 

That smug smirk graced his lips again, and you wanted to slap it off, or more honestly, kiss it off. 

“You didn’t want something to happen with her?” 

He crowded you, pushing you up against the counter behind you, close enough to feel the heat permeating off his body. “Now why would I want that when I have this sexy little spitfire right here?” 

You rolled your eyes, biting your lip as you fought to hold onto your resolve the best you could. God, you just wanted him to hurt a little bit, wanted to be the one to walk away. “You don’t have me, Bucky.”

Gently running the back of his knuckles down the side of your face, his gaze flickered from your mouth to your eyes. “Don’t I?” he questioned, unaffected by your lie. 

Gasping at his arrogance, “You son of a bitch.” You were done, this was it. He was used to getting his way with every girl he came across, but you weren’t going to give the self-righteous bastard the satisfaction. 

His gruff voice broke your train of thought. “Because you sure as hell have me.”

Your breath hitched as you looked into his dark dilated pupils – he meant it. 

“You’re only gonna break my heart, I don't think we should –”

His lips cut you off before you could end it. His tongue was hot and determined. His hands moved up and cupped your jaw as he held you in place, kissing you until you couldn’t think. Until you forgot why you were mad in the first place, only knowing that you needed him. 

“You can’t quit me, baby,” he whispered against your lips. His hypnotic eyes reminded you that you were too far gone; his lips against your neck as his rough hands slid down and up your skirt, kneading your ass harshly cemented his possession. 

With his sinful blue eyes transfixed on yours, he dropped to his knees between your legs and licked up the length of your inner thigh. Heat bloomed in your core as you gave in, watching him kiss his way up your thighs, biting into your flesh as his eyes held yours. Whimpering out, you tugged him closer, needing more. Bucky chuckled darkly before burying his face in between your thighs, licking and sucking you through your lacy g-string. He hooked his thumbs into the sides of your panty and eased them off before swiftly hooking your leg over his shoulder and swiping his hot thick tongue through your wet folds. 

Your hands fell to his hair, holding him in place. “So fuckin’ good,” he groaned under his breath, his eyes closed in pleasure as he licked you from your entrance to clit, over and over again. 

Without warning he shoved two thick fingers into your center, working you over as his tongue fixated on your bundle of nerves. The cool metal of his rings sliding against your hot skin created a delicious contrast. You moaned in between gasps of air, watching as he took care of what he knew belonged to him. The grip on his hair got harsher and he could tell you were close, feeling your needy muscles quiver – his favorite tell-tale sign. 

Unable to control yourself you trembled in pleasure, body convulsing as you came undone. “That’s it, baby,” he purred, helping you through it, curling his fingers deeper inside of you. Mischievous eyes watched in appreciation, his chest swelling with pride as you whimpered out his name. 

While your anger had been snuffed out to embers, your passion for him reignited the flame. 

You coaxed Bucky to stand before tearing at his shirt, pulling his cut and flannel open so that you could nip at his neck. You bit and sucked your way down to his tattooed chest, leaving your mark as you went. 

Tugging at his belt, you swiftly undid his jeans, desperate to feel him. Before you could wrap your hand around his heavy length, he gripped the back of your thighs and pressed you hard up against the wall across from the mirror; where you could watch as he wrecked you. 

Holding you there with his hips and hands, he leaned forward to capture your lips before lining himself up; only pulling back a split second to watch your face as he buried himself inside of you, driving home with one hard thrust. You gasped at the stretch and intense familiar pressure. Bucky had fucked you so many times, but that first plunge never failed to take your breath away; always reminded you how no other man could ever fill you so right. 

His hips snapped into yours mercilessly, striking you roughly again and again at an unwavering pace. 

You threw your head back and lost yourself in a daze, incapable of uttering a word. Fuck, you’d let him do whatever he wanted if he’d keep on using your body like that.

“You’re all I want,” he growled, his teeth on your neck. 

As he recklessly thrusted in deeper than imaginable, you almost missed the quiet click of the door. But then your eyes locked in the mirror with that dumb skank that wanted your man. 

Her eyes nearly bulged out in surprise and you took the opportunity to toss her a devilish grin as Bucky took you apart. That’s right bitch, mine. 

She scurried off right before your back arched off the wall, your muscles tightening around him. 

“Oh, fuck –��

“Takin’ all of me so fuckin’ well,” Bucky grinded his pelvis into you, rubbing your clit each time he bottomed out, knocking the air from your lungs. He was lost in you, and all you could do was take it. Wrapping your legs tighter around his waist, you pulled him impossibly closer, until your walls spasmed as you shattered in his arms. But he wasn’t done with you; he rutted into you hard, watching proudly as your body quaked between the wall and him. You clenched him perfectly, pulsating around him so hard it sent him over the edge. 

You bit his lip as you felt his thrusts grow erratic. Bucky groaned out your name as he jerked violently, emptying himself – branding your insides with his hot release. 

He’d be happy to spend the rest of his days living in you. His brain was foggy, but his heart knew who he was supposed to be with. Resting his forehead against yours, he panted as he tried to calm down. 

Wrapping your hand around his jaw, you smiled softly. “I love it when we fight,” you admitted. 

He chuckled and squeezed your thighs. “Me too, darlin’,” he nipped your lip. “But I’m starting to think you start these fights because you know how it’ll end.” 

You giggled at his words, he was onto your game. “Maybe I do,” you whispered just before your lips met his for a soft, sweet kiss. 

You were everything he wanted in a woman, you gave him more than he ever thought he’d find in his world. Right then, he made a mental note to stop entertaining the advances of other girls. His soul was already taken. But damn was it true, the fights always led to the best sex. 

Carefully pulling himself out, he gently set you down, keeping his arms around your waist as you stood on wobbly legs. Your smudged eye makeup, those gorgeous sultry lips, and the way you looked at him – Bucky was a goner. 

You were his weakness, and he knew then what he’d never said out loud – all he needed from this life was his bike, the club, and his best girl. 

#beefy!bucky x reader #bucky x woc!reader #bucky x female reader #biker!bucky #beefy!bucky #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky fanfic #sebastian stan x reader #james buchanan barnes #bucky fic #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #beefy!bucky x woc!reader #bucky smut #biker!bucky x reader #biker!au #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x woc!reader #bucky barnes x you #wanted

[marvelsuperfangirl]

Bucky Barnes’ Fic Rec

 A/N I’m creating this fic rec mostly to be able to find all my favourites without too much trouble, hope you’ll enjoy it as well!

By the way, I didn’t write any of those fics, all the writers are credited and their blog linked to make it easier for y’all to find their work.

New fics will be added here and there from time to time

Chubby!Bucky :

Chubby !bucky masterlist – ofstars and vibranium

Buckycuddlebuddy – chubby !bucky masterlist (chubby!bucky)

Chubby!Bucky x Personal Trainer!Reader - boxofbonesfic

Spoiling Chubby!Bucky - angrythingstarlight

Chef’s Kisses - ofstarsandvibranium (chef!bucky)

Roommate!Bucky :

And they’re roommates – golden-barnes

So, This is love - ofstarsandvibranium

“My turn ons?...”   -  persuasivus

Favorite Mug - ladyvesuvia

Student!Bucky :

Disturbances - toastedkiwi  (college!bucky)

Twelve - toastedkiwi (collge!bucky)

Study skills – jobean12-blog

Roommates - Kaikat (student!bucky) 

Interested -  imaginedocx (college!chubby!bucky) 

No Such Thing - sanguineterrain (college!bucky) 

Her name - barnestruck

Softcore - kaikat

Naive - sebystann

Save Me - espinosaurusrexex

Biker!Bucky :

And he’s feeling good – angrythingstarlight (biker!bucky)

All Bikers are Hell’s Angels -  sweet-barnes (biker!bucky)

The boogeyman and other monstrosities - pellucid-constellations

Biker!Bucky smut - holylulusword 

Fighter!Bucky :

Fight for You - revengingbarnes

Angel - toastedkiwi (ufcfighter!bucky)

Prize – metalbuckaroo (fight club!bucky)

  Artist!Bucky (artist, tattoo artist, musician...) :

Timid Touch - aries-writingblog (artist!bucky)

Petals and Ink - onceuponastory (tattoo artist!bucky)

Lotus Flower Bomb - nexusnyx (musician!bucky)

Groupie Luv -  qyllenhaal  Smut  (rocker!bucky)

Make it count - serpienten

  Coffee!Shop / Bar AU :

Bucky with a smiley face - winterdrag0n

Perfect Blend - moonlightsolo

gin, tonic & a lemon on top - romantic-barnes

Favorite Bar - westviewtroubles

On the job - gentlybarnes

The regular - angie-likes-to-art

How you get the girl – barnesafterglow

Mafia!Bucky :

Barnes Bakery - hallowdeaths  (Mafia!Bucky) series

Mafia Bucky & Tattoos - angrythingstarlight

Kinanabinks’ Mob!Bucky Series

Mafia!bucky / « leaving notes in each other’s lunch box when they know i twill be a steessful day at work »  - lokithealligator

Alpha!Bucky :

Break Lights - boxofbonesfic

Zealous-whispers-of-us-redux  - Masterlist ( alpha!bucky  x vampire!reader )

How they met.. - angrythingstarlight

Medical!Bucky:

Flashing Light - pellucid-constellations

Convalescence - pellucid-constellations

Drunk in love - toastedkiwi

How you get the girl - captainscanadian

Athlete!Bucky :

For the love of the game - pellucid-constellations

Out of bounds - foreverindreamlandd (athlete!bucky) 

Anger issues – hailhydra920

Beefy!Bucky :

Beefy!Florist!Bucky Universe - navybrat817

Beefy Burrito - jobean-12

Soul tie (A hair tie love story) - jobean-12

Soul tie 2 - jobean-12

Soul Tie 3 - jobean-12

Whatta Man (Soul Tie 4) - jobean-12

Alpha!Bucky :

Being alpha!bucky’s soulmate – thefanbasewhore

snuggles - toastedkiwi

Miscellaneous :

Here’s looking at you, kid - boxofbonesfic

Mr Grinch -  alisonsfics (enemy!bucky)

Snowfall, softly - sweetdreamsbuck (lumberjack!bucky)

Neighborly Behavior - angrythingstarlight (neighbour!bucky)

Learn your lesson  - avengersfangirlimagines (avenger!bucky)

“My turn ons?...”   -  persuasivus

Waiting it out - ofstarsandvibranium

Five confessions Bucky makes - capatinrogerss (avenger!bucky)

motioncvpture - “Don’t come in...”

Morning Kisses - Buckybleu  (avenger!bucky)

It’s too early for this shit - persephonesinfernos

Moderator – toastedkiwi (streamer!bucky)

Cowboy !Bucky / I.IG.Y.M.H.W.Y.T.I.A.M.M.T.H.M.I.T.W – mcuimaginesandstuff

Unlovable - thewxntersoldier (Bestfriend!Bucky)

Barrister’s beau – jadedvibes (lawyer!bucky)

Simply delicious – 440mxs-wife (chef!bucky)

Getting scared gone too far – subwaysurf45

Favorite - barnestuff

main thing baby – nexusnyx

your roommate’s boyfriend – schmucksbucks

“what are you going to do, sue the ghost?” – vibraniumcollar (sugar daddy!bucky)

#marvel #marvel imagine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes au #biker!bucky #mafia!bucky #librarian!bucky #alpha!bucky #college!bucky #chubby!bucky

[demonsandmischief]

Cupcake

A Bucky Barnes Imagine

Biker! Bucky x Female Reader

900 Words

-Cupcake-

In which a certain biker wants the attention of a shy baker

-----

The bell over the door jingled, and you looked up from where you were wiping down the counter. The men that had entered was not what you were expecting in your very floral pink bakery. Their black leather stood out against the soft pastels.

The tall blonde was the one that came to the cash register.

"Can we get three coffees, please?" His politeness surprised you, so did his dimples. You ducked your head to hide the inevitable heat that rushed up your neck.

"Okay," you said softly. "Cream or sugar?"

"Neither." He shook his head. "How about some of those chocolate chip cookies as well?"

"Sure."

You turned away to pour the drinks. Your gaze was drawn to one of the other men who had taken a seat by the door. He had brown hair, and seemed incredibly unamused by whatever the third man was talking so animatedly about. He caught your eye, and you turned away.

You packaged the cookies, and took the blonde's card for payment.

He thanked you, and soon the trio was gone, followed by the gentle rumble of their motorcycles taking off down the street.

----

You wished you could say you had forgotten the encounter, but that wasn't true. The surly brown haired man had been locked firmly into your memory, and you didn't have any idea why.

On a particularly slow day, you were alerted to the familiar sound of a bike, and in walked the person who had yet to leave your mind.

"Hi," you greeted. "What can I get started for you?"

"How about the lunch special with a cup of coffee?" he asked.

"Okay." You tried really hard not to mumble under the gaze of his beautiful gray eyes. "What kind of bread did you want for that sandwich?"

"You pick," he responded, offering over his card.

Your fingers brushed against his as you accepted it. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest.

"I'll bring it right out," you whispered.

He thanked you, and you turned away to start on his food.

Your brain was a scrambled mess. Your hands were shaking, and you felt like you could feel his stare, except he was seated away from you near the window.

As the panini toasted, you took him his coffee. He had shed his leather jacket to reveal a tight-fitting long sleeve t-shirt that accentuated his bulky arms and broad chest.

"Here's your coffee..." you trailed off.

"Bucky," he said, his lips quirking up.

"Bucky." You repeated his name gently, locked in his magnetic gaze. You introduced yourself back, and you were frozen for a second until the panini press beeped, reminding you of where you were.

You blushed, moving away from him. Bucky. It was a nice name.

"Do you have a minute?" he asked when you brought over his plate. He gestured to the seat in front of him.

You stumbled over an answer. "I've got - I have cupcakes baking in the back."

He nodded, turning to his food.

----

Bucky quickly became a regular, and so did your ability to turn into a blundering mess.

"Which dessert is your favorite?" he asked a few days later.

"Our cinnamon rolls are a big seller-"

"Come on," he teased. "I said your favorite, not everyone else's."

You bit back a bit of a little smile. "Vanilla cupcakes."

He nodded, "I'll take one of those, and a cup of coffee. To-Go, today, please."

You were a bit disappointed that he wasn't sticking around. You considered the possibility that he was tired of you telling him no when he asked you to sit with him because he asked every time, except if you were busy. It's not that you didn't want to, it's just - what would someone like him want with someone like you?

Your train of thoughts turned your mood sour, and the day dragged on. You desperately wanted to go home and feel sorry for yourself and the great thing you probably messed up.

You had just locked the doors for the evening when a familiar bike pulled up.

He waved through the glass and you let him in. He had a bouquet of flowers in his hand, and the same vanilla cupcake he had bought from you earlier.

"These are for you," he said, handing them over. "I was hoping that you would come to dinner with me."

You were relieved to finally have the chance to get to know him.

"I'd love to," you murmured, feeling flushed and giddy. "Just let me finish up here."

It didn't take long, and soon you were locking the doors up behind you, with a certain handsome yet stoic man watching your every move.

He walked to his bike, and you faltered.

"You expect me to get on that thing?"

He smirked a bit, teasing. "Come on, cupcake. I brought you your very own helmet."

The nickname was corny, but it didn't stop the butterflies from fluttering around, wrecking havoc in your stomach.

"I promise to keep you safe." He said the words so sincerely, so honestly, that you couldn't help but give in.

He got on first, offering over the bulky helmet and his leather jacket that you pulled on. He helped you clamber on behind him, pressed intimately against his back. You struggled to breathe at the proximity.

"Hold on tight," he yelled over the engine. You wrapped your arms around his front, and soon you were speeding off down the street.

--------

As Requested ❤️ happy February my friends

•requests open

•join my permanent tags, linked in my masterlist

•wattpad

•i make marvel tik toks

•buy me a coffee?

@yokaisleep @leahnicole1219 @downbadforobiwan28 @ilovesebastianstan @5moremin @lilylovelyxo @fangirls94 @moonstruckbirdie @drayshadow @leyannrae @alexabarnes17 @bklynxbaby @g4dr33l @nyx2021

#marvel #marvel imagine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #biker! bucky #bucky barnes x female reader #biker au

[marvelstoriesepic]

Breaking chains (2)

Pairing: Biker!Bucky x reader

Summary: Leaving behind an abusive and possessive boyfriend, and finding refuge in the hometown you once yearned to escape, certainly wasn’t a chapter you anticipated in your life’s story. Yet, eyes as blue as the sky at dusk, belonging to a mysterious biker drew you into a world of unexpected possibilities, where a job at his bar becomes more than just a means of survival - it’s a pathway to freedom and self-discovery. Though, breaking away from your past proves daunting when shackled by invisible chains.

Chapter word count: 6.3k

Warnings: flashback to toxic relationship, abuse and possessiveness; vomiting; toxic parents; nightmare; self-preservation

Author’s note: Here’s the second part. Let me know if you want to be tagged on the next one. Thank you for the support!!

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

“Michael!”

“Michael, stop!”

You chased after your boyfriend, steps pounding over the wooden floorboards of your apartment that felt little like home since you shared it with him.

Your heart was hammering against your chest, lead filled your stomach and your cheek was still stinging from a few moments earlier when his palm had met your face in a swift motion.

The sound of the mixer lid opening reverberated through the apartment and panic surged within you as you quickened your pace.

You rounded the corner into the kitchen where he stood beside the kitchen counter, the mixer sitting innocently next to the microwave. Michael held your phone precariously over the open mixer, his other hand poised to turn it on. Tension crackled in the air, though that was a known occurrence by now. As was the dangerous glint in his eyes.

Another call lit up the screen of your phone - your coworker who had tried to check in with you a few times this week, since you haven’t shown up at work for a while now, Michael not letting you leave the house. However, the many messages and unanswered calls in the last minutes reached the peak of his rage, and his patience - there wasn’t much to begin with - wearing thin.

“You’re not going back there again, do you understand that?”

The deadly calm of his threat weighed heavily on you, bearing you down, suffocating you.

“Michael-”

“Do you understand?” He roared, his whole body shaking with rage.

“Yes. So leave it be. Put it down Michael, you don’t need to do this!”

You walked towards him, eyes wide and arms out in front of you. Trembling hands reached out to grab your phone, pulling it out of his white-knuckled grasp. Before you could retreat, his grip wrapped around your arms instead, his touch like a vice. His hard gaze sent shivers down your spine, his dark eyes burning with a fury that seemed to consume him from within. His voice was laced with venom.

“You fucking bitch!”

You knew what came next, got used to the routine by now - the shouting, the violence, the destruction. It was a cycle that seemed impossible to break, a cycle that left you feeling numb. When he shoved you aside, your body collided painfully with the counter, but you barely registered the pain. It was a familiar sensation. So you stood there, frozen in place, as he continued his rampage, his voice cutting through the air like knives. His arms were wildly thrashing around, aggressive shouting meeting the walls of your apartment.

Picture frames crashed to the ground, their glass surfaces shattering into a thousand pieces, mirroring the shattered fragments of your once-hopeful relationship. The couch bore the scars of his anger, indentations where his feet had collided with its surface in a fit of fury. A book lay abandoned on the coffee table, its pages now crumpled and torn. You had forgotten about the plot anyway.

As he stormed through the room, his voice booming with unrestrained anger, you found yourself detached from the chaos unfolding before you, his words not registering in your mind - a protective barrier. You had been here before and it would happen again.

Bile rose up your throat. All the things he destroyed were remnants of the life you shared. The life you despised. Usually, you were able to swallow it back down but your eyes drifted to the coat rack where your jacket molded with his, and the nausea churning your stomach threatened to overwhelm you.

With a desperate lurch, you tore yourself away from the chaos unfolding in the living room and sprinted across the hallway toward the bathroom. You stumbled inside, barely managing to reach the toilet before the contents of your stomach erupted in a violent rush. The sound of Michaels' raging voice echoed in your ears like a distant storm.

“Ugh, you disgusting bitch!” Michaels' curses reached your ears and you squeezed your eyes shut. You heard keys jingling, indicating that he was making a hasty exit. “You better get a grip before I come back, or you’ll pay!”

His parting threat hung in the air like a dark cloud as you heard the door slam. You slummed against the bathroom floor, cold tiles pressing against your back. Tears streamed down your cheeks, mingling with the bitter taste of bile still lingering in your mouth.

You didn’t know how long you laid there. But as you pushed yourself up from the floor, your muscles protested and your back felt sore. Avoiding your reflection in the mirror, you leaned heavily against the sink, reaching for your toothbrush to scrub away the remnants of bile.

As you leaned down to spit out the foamy toothpaste, your eyes caught something beneath the sink, lying on the floor. Your heart skipped a beat, a jolt of adrenaline coursing through your veins. It was your phone. You had snatched it from Michaels' grasp before his anger spiraled out of control and he hadn’t retrieved it before he left in haste, not wanting to deal with a vomiting girl.

Clammy hands reached down to pick it up and you and unlocked it. Michael had changed your password but seemingly forgot to delete your fingerprint. In a blur of urgency, your fingers flew over the screen, calling back your coworker.

Carol had eased you over the phone and left her own apartment with a quick ‘hold tight, kid’ in a rush to get to you. Relief flooded your senses as she gained herself access to your home by picking the lock. You didn’t know how long Michael would be gone and you felt your heart beating erratically the whole time you packed your few possessions into the boxes Carol had gathered. She had offered you her place to stay but you declined, knowing you had to put some distance between him and yourself.

Your eyes flew open, the sudden jolt rippling you from the clutches of the memory that had ensnared you in its chilling grip. You tried to catch a breath, feeling sweat coating your skin like a clammy shroud.

A hand was running soothing patterns on your back and your eyes focused on Wanda sitting beside you in your bed, concern etched deep into her features. She was talking but her voice didn’t reach your ears, distant words that seemed lost in the disorientating fog of your mind.

It took some moments for her voice to pierce through the haze. “I need you to breathe Y/n, come on!” She urged softly, not letting up to rub your back.

You managed to draw in a few shaky breaths as you clung to the sheets beneath you. Your racing heart calmed down and the room seemed to come into sharper focus. A heavy sigh left your lips.

Wanda’s touch gently withdrew from your back after your breaths visibly evened out again. She kept sitting on the edge of your bed, a sigh in her breath. A sense of tranquility hung in the air, a heaviness settling like a veil of velvet.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Surprisingly, that was all you needed. You sat there, bathed in the soft glow of the moon filtering through the windows, and a sense of comfort washed over you. You had kept your struggles hidden for so long, afraid to burden her with your troubles but the weight of your past pressed down on you like a heavy cloak and she obviously knew something was going on. Your friendship had taken a soft blow due to your silence and you refused to grant Michael the satisfaction he would most definitely feel of prolonging it.

So after your small nod, Wanda slid under your sheets, enveloping you in a cocoon of warmth. With each word that tumbled from your lips, you unburdened yourself of the weight that had been taking residence in your chest for so long.

You recounted the early days of your relationship with Michael, the tender moments and sweet gestures that had initially swept you off your feet. His charm had been intoxicating, his affection seemingly boundless. That was as far as you told your friends.

But then you also told her about the darker, more sinister side of Michaels' personality, that came out after a while. How his possessiveness had escalated gradually and the need to control everything - dictating where you could go, who you could see, and what you could wear. Raised voices and heated arguments had become the norm, his temper flaring at the slightest provocation.

You let her examine the bruises that still littered your wrists from the day before - the day you left. You had become adept at hiding the evidence of Michaels' abuse, concealing the physical manifestations of his cruelty beneath layers of clothing and make-up. Yet, as they lay exposed for Wanda to see, a strange sense of relief washed over you.

Tears were shed, both, Wanda's and yours and it took a while until everything that gripped at your heart was laid bare, sunlight now filtering through the curtains but Wanda listened intently. She held your hand when you choked on words and offered you the kind of comfort you had been craving for years, a weight being lifted from your shoulders.

She embraced you in a tight hug after you were done. “I’m so sorry, Y/n! I’m so sorry!” It was the only thing she could manage, struggling to find her voice.

****

Brick walls stared back at you hauntingly. They had a different color now. The sunlight played upon the textured surface, casting shadows that danced across the facade, accentuating the subtle variations in color.

You noticed the meticulous attention to detail that had gone into the renovation of your parent's house. The one you grew up in. Though it felt little like the house you knew. The mortar between the bricks appeared fresh, neatly applied to fill in any gaps and cracks that had formed over the years you lived there. Your parents seemed to have taken care to restore the exterior, washing away any indications that you had lived there not long ago.

The wooden doorframe gleamed with a fresh coat of varnish, the scratches on its surface you were responsible for, when you were a kid not visible anymore. The brass doorknob was polished, reflecting the sunlight in dazzling glints.

In the driveway, parked in the spot, where your old family car used to rest was a vehicle you didn’t recognize - a sleek, modern model that seemed out of place in the suburban neighborhood. Your parents never told you about the new car or anything else they did to the house, living their life without you.

A bucket of ice water could have been poured over your head and you wouldn’t have felt much colder than you already did. It was a sunny day, you even had to squint your eyes and still got blinded but nothing could make you feel warm at the sight of the house in front of you that looked so familiar, yet foreign. You felt disconnected from the life you once had here.

Your mother never had a hand at gardening, her forgetfulness to water the potted plants she still put in every corner of your house and in front of it, resulted in withered blooms and dried leaves strewn across the ground until she got annoyed and threw them out. A reflection of your relationship.

So you found yourself staring at the tended flower beds and carefully arranged pots now littering the front yard with a bitterness that left your mouth dry. The sudden burst of enthusiasm for gardening she must have had felt like a slap in the face, the realization that your departure had inadvertently paved the way for your mother to rediscover herself in ways she had never before considered.

You thought about knocking. Maybe it was a fleeing wish your parents would welcome you with open arms and a smile on their faces. But that possibility was small - or not there at all. Sorrow filled your stomach at the thought of facing your parents, or confronting the painful truth that they had moved on without you. You had become a distant memory in their lives already, a footnote in the narrative of their newfound happiness.

Your arrival wouldn’t be met with relieved smiles and comfort, it would only serve to reopen old wounds and stir up long-buried resentments - you would be a burden. The weight of reality bore down upon you with crushing force.

“What are you doing there looking like a lost lamb?”

Your head snapped away from the house with the lost fragments of your childhood, gaze meeting the weathered visage of an elderly man slowly making his way towards you on the sidewalk you have been standing on for who knows how long. He leaned on a sturdy walking stick, a flat hat resting atop his grey hair.

Your eyes widened upon seeing him better. “Mr. Clark!” you exclaimed, a warm sensation making way in your stomach at the old shopkeeper of the gardening store further down the road you always passed on your way to school as a kid.

You vividly remembered the time you had stumbled and fallen on the sidewalk, knees and hands scraped, and tears streaming down your cheeks. He had seen you trip through the windows of his shop and rushed out to ease you and take you home. He had been more gentle than your mother was.

Upon hearing his name the old man’s gaze sharpened and a slow smile crept across his face. He halted a few inches away from you, hooded eyes scanning your features. “Well, well,” he mused, “Would you look at who’s come back to town.” His gaze lingered on you, it looked like he could see right through you. “Been a while since I’ve seen you around, child. You look different. Almost didn’t recognize you.”

Did you look different?

You had no idea what you looked like the last time you were around.

“Yeah, I haven’t been here for quite some time.”

A sheepish chuckle escaped your lips and your eyes drifted back to the house.

Mr. Clark followed your gaze and he took a big breath. “I’m sorry about your parents kid. It’s a shame they left town. I don’t even know where it took them.” He kept his eyes on the building but your gaze burned in his side.

Your heart constricted inside your chest, feeling like it had just been pierced by thousands of small needles. You didn’t feel yourself breathing and were unable to blink.

Left town?

Your parents had left town?

You guessed that was the confirmation you needed. The final blow, the definite proof that they had moved on without you. You had clung to the hope that perhaps, deep down, they still cared and that there was still a chance to mend the fractured relationship between them and you. But now that hope felt like nothing more than a cruel illusion - a mirage in the desert of your longing.

Slowly, your eyes shifted back to the house in front of you. The neatly arranged pots of plants, the well-tended front guard, the fresh coat of paint, the new car - it all made sense now. It wasn’t your parents who had renovated the house, but rather the people who lived in it now.

Guilt consumed you like a relentless beast, tearing at your insides with its sharp claws and gnashing teeth. If you hadn’t left and just followed the path your parents had laid out for you, then perhaps they would still be here. If you finished college they probably would still be a part of your life. If you-

“Is everything alright, child? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

The voice of Mr. Clark once again snapped you back to reality with a subtle flinch. You tried a smile reaching your lips but it might have come out as more of a grimace.

“Uh, yeah. I-” you started, choking on your words, but Mr. Clark had already resumed his walk, indicating you to follow him with a wink of his walking stick.

“I think you could use some water, dear.”

A weary sigh left your lips but you felt too tired to relent, so you met his pace, walking side by side.

You neared the gardening store, he still seemed to have kept in his old days. “The boys will be there already,” he remarked. You turned to him confused.

“The boys?”

You saw the bikes first. Two of them, parked in front of the gardening store that - other than anything else in this town as it felt like - hadn’t changed at all since you left. You recognized those bikes. They stood outside the bar the day before yesterday when you dragged Pietro home and met some of the bikers for the first time. The telltale dent in the front of one of them caught your attention as it had that evening. A stark contrast against the pristine surface of its companion.

Then two figures came into sight. One leaned casually against the wall near the opening of the store, exuding an air of nonchalance, shoulders shaking with a laugh as he had his arms crossed in front of his chest. The other stood before him, his body language tinged with irritation. A hand came up to run over his face.

As you drew closer to the store the figures standing in the shadows began to take shape and you recognized them immediately. It was Sam and Bucky. Sam was leaning against the wall, his teasing grin on display, a laugh in his breath. A groan from Bucky met your ears and although he stood with his back to you, annoyance radiated from him in waves.

Sam seemed to have spotted you, judging by the smile that lifted his cheeks as he pushed off the wall and uncrossed his arms. “What a way to meet again!” he called out to you.

You surely hadn’t expected to meet them here and it threw you off the loop for a second but Sam’s bright grin managed a genuine smile to reach your eyes. Bucky had turned around and you met his gaze briefly but before you could conjure up another smile or read his expression, Mr. Clark walked past you with a jingle of his keys, to open the door to his shop.

“That girl stood there pale as a ghost. Thought some water would do her well, eh?” he declared, letting out a gruff chuckle. “Don’t want her passing out on the sidewalk.” His voice, weathered by age, held a hint of concern, albeit expressed in a rather blunt manner that had a blush creeping up your cheeks in embarrassment.

The old man entered the store and you quickly fell into step behind him, not needing the two guys to dwell on your momentary discomfort.

You picked up that Sam had been about to say something but then a grunt escaped his lips behind you, followed by an aggravated “Damn you, man,” directed at Bucky who had evidently delivered a punch to Sam’s side.

You never really had entered Mr. Clark's store before - Never really were in need of a gardening supply but the interior bore the marks of age with a weathered elegance, the wooden shelves displaying an assortment of gardening supplies with a sense of rustic charm. Vintage gardening posters and faded photographs adorned the walls, adding to its nostalgic allure.

However, you barely had a moment to take in the store's ambiance before Mr. Clark practically ushered you into a wooden chair behind the small counter and disappeared behind a nearby door.

“Mr. Clark, you really don’t have to-” you began calling after him but your words were swiftly interrupted as he reappeared, handing you a glass of water.

“Drink the water, child,” he ordered and diverted his attention to the two guys standing a few feet away, seemingly caught up in a glaring contest. “And you two boys, stop with the stalling and get on with the work. That’s what you are here for, aren’t you?.”

With a final warning glare towards Sam, Bucky’s demeanor shifted from tense to purposeful as he began to pick up a lawn mower standing next to the entrance and moved the heavy machinery to where Mr. Clark indicated.

Meanwhile, Sam took charge of the flower pots, rearranging them with care. From your vantage point behind the counter, you observed their actions, nibbling at your water when Mr. Clark sent you a glare across the room. They didn’t appear to be here out of obligation or duty, but rather out of a genuine desire to assist an old man who needed a helping hand - not being able to do it on his own anymore, but without wanting to give up his well-loved shop.

It seemed so ordinary for them to be here and do the work for this old man, it made you wonder what else they did around town - what other acts of kindness they might be involved in. Guilt found its way back to you, settling in your stomach and making it churn. The revelation that they actually appeared to be good-hearted people, had first dawned on you after your first initial encounter two days ago, but seeing them like this, engaged in such a well-meant act of kindness, solidified that understanding even further.

You took a few more sips of the water, hoping its coolness would calm the fluttering sensations in your chest. But the effect was fleeting, especially when you caught sight of the smile Bucky directed towards Mr. Clark.

It wasn’t that kind of smile you knew of Sam but it was more you had seen of him at the bar. It lit up his features with warmth and sincerity, small crinkles formed at the edges of his eyes - it was disarmingly charming.

He had shrugged off his jacket to better tackle the task at hand, revealing toned muscles rippling beneath his long-sleeved shirt. Lifting another lawn mower with ease, Bucky’s back muscles contorted visibly. His hands were both covered with gloves and you noticed the little specks of dirt that had accumulated on his jeans throughout but he didn’t seem to mind.

You quickly averted your eyes upon noticing you yourself were watched. Dark eyes were fixed on you and your peripheral could make out the knowing smirk that grazed Sam’s face. Glancing around the gardening store once more, trying to maintain a fond of indifference after being caught ogling at his friend, you saw Sam turn back to his task but the smirk on his lips didn’t leave his face.

You took in the store a little more, looking out the forefront and imagining seeing little you walking by on your way home from school with your little backpack on, the zipper broken because it was always a little too packed. Sunlight filtered through, casting a warm glow over the interior and illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. Wooden floorboards creaked under heavy boots.

You found appeal in the idea of helping out here yourself. It was a cozy place and you were in need of a job.

After your nightmare yesterday and the heartfelt conversation with Wanda, you had found a small sense of solace again. You both went to Pietro to check up on him and spent the day. When you also confided in him about your troubled past, Wanda and you had to ease him out of buying a ticket to Seattle to ‘show him how he deserves to be treated’. You had spent the whole day with them, filled with take-out and movies, bringing back that comfort you had missed for so long.

Nonetheless, Wanda had to return to her job today. After all, she had completed her graphic design degree and was working from home, designing a new logo for a local startup company. Not wanting to disrupt her creative flow, you had decided to take a leisurely walk around town earlier in the hope it would clear your mind and perhaps explore potential job opportunities in the area.

However, as you strolled through the familiar streets, you found yourself in front of your parent's house - well, which wasn’t their house anymore as it seemed.

Perhaps you might have even fled out of your new shared apartment with Wanda earlier. Watching her immersed in her graphic design work only served to amplify the ache in your heart. The urgency to secure a job as quickly as possible might stem from the deep-seated longing and regret that consumed you. You could have been in the same position as Wanda, pursuing a degree in graphic design and building a career from it.

You might not have been as talented or passionate as Wanda was and probably not as happy, but you also weren’t happy in the place you found yourself in right now - essentially losing three years of your life, along with the love of your parents and the sense of identity you once possessed could do that to a person.

“Do I need to get you some water as well, son? Work isn’t finished yet.”

Once again, Mr. Clark's voice jolted you back to the present, snapping you away from the tangle of thoughts that had consumed you. You turned your head, watching Bucky getting pulled out of wherever his own mind had drifted, grumbling a quick response to the elderly man and hastily making his way back towards the entrance to fiddle with a few gardening tools.

Sam wore that knowing smirk again, as he continued with his own task. It was clear that he had noticed Bucky’s momentary lapse in focus and was likely already formulating a teasing remark to poke fun at him later on. Well, that was how you imagined their kind of relationship to be.

You were intrigued to find out what might have caught Bucky’s attention that left him almost bashful after being caught.

Mr. Clark walked by you and you stood from the chair, taking the chance to talk to him. “I could help you out as well, Mr. Clark-” you started but got boldly interrupted again.

“I’ve got the boys already, child. They’re more than enough to keep an old man busy. No need for any more fuss,” he declared, dismissing your offer and taking the glass out of your hand to refill it again despite your protests, handing it back to you. “Don’t you have more pressing matters to attend to? A better job?”

You shook your head, your fingers tightened their hold on the glass. “Uhm. No, I’m still looking for one.”

“You’re looking for a job?”

Sam's voice behind you made you turn around to see him standing up and dusting off his jeans, his gaze on you.

“Sam,” Bucky warned sharply from his place, turning to him as well after adjusting a wheelbarrow, his movements stiff.

Sam seemed used to ignoring Bucky, his grin just widening and undeterred by the way Bucky’s hard glare burned holes in his side.

“We could use some help in the bar,” he continued, his voice casual but he still wore that ever-present smirk. The kind that made you think he knew something you didn’t.

Surprise etched your features and the tension that crackled in the air as you exchanged glances between Sam and Bucky left you a little unsettled. Bucky wasn’t meeting your eyes, his shoulders tense and his arms were held at his side awkwardly, fingers twitching.

Nonetheless, you couldn’t deny it was alluring - Sam’s suggestion. It would certainly be more exciting working in their bar than a gardening store, managed by a moody old man. The prospect of immersing yourself in the vibrant energy of a bustling bar scene appealed to the sense of distraction you could definitely use right now, in your current situation. And the bar surely held some sense of charm.

Bucky’s reaction though left you a little uneasy. Sure, it was a demanding job and not always that easy or even safe. Rowdy patrons, bar fights, and unwelcome advances from strangers were something you had to expect to happen in a bar, but you had experience, having worked in a bar in Seattle before Michael had put an end to it. He wouldn’t get a chance this time.

Perhaps Bucky didn’t believe you were capable of handling yourself in a bar environment. Yes, you had flinched this morning by the mundane sound of the kettle clicking off but did you actually look that helpless? A pang of indignation elicited in your stomach at the notion that Bucky might have already formed a judgment about your abilities grated against you. After all, you had navigated heated situations before with finesse - admittedly, you were lacking that kind of confidence now that you still had back then but you couldn’t help the small flicker of anger simmering inside you.

Your assumptions about Bucky’s reactions could possibly be off base, you had to acknowledge. You had been wrong about these guys before, forming your own judgments based on your imagined version of bikers so you considered the possibility that his apprehension had little to do with you, but rather himself. Whatever was going on inside his mind. He did seem like an overthinker if you were being honest.

But regardless of the reasons for his reaction, there was one thing you hadn’t lost; the stubborn sense to prove yourself.

Sam seemed to have read your answer in your expression, because his grin widened and he pulled out a gardening chair, sitting down and gesturing for you to take a seat on the one you had occupied before.

“We’re having a job interview,” he declared after you blinked at him in confusion, making it seem like it wasn’t utterly surreal to do this in the midst of a gardening store.

“Here? Now?”

A deep frustrated sigh caught your attention and you observed Bucky running a hand over his face in exasperation, mirroring his earlier actions outside the store. With another unsure glance at Sam, you hesitantly took a seat in front of him.

“Sam, don’t do this,” Bucky sighed, clearly done with him but Sam just pressed on with his agenda - leaning forward in his seat and fixing you with a feigned serious expression.

He started asking you about your full name and age, saving it in his phone. It was actually impressive how Sam managed to ignore the sharp glares of Bucky, while they made you shift on your rickety chair uncomfortably, although they weren’t even meant for you.

The relationship between those two remained a mystery to you. They were like opposing forces, caught in an eternal tug-of-war - Their banter full of irritation and teasing. You got a glimpse of their bickering at the bar and it seemed to be a normal occurrence. But then you noticed the subtle glances from Sam, as to check on Bucky and the almost fond clap on his shoulder after entering the store - they were breadcrumbs leading to a hidden story.

Eventually, Bucky redirected his attention back to the few gardening tools scattered in a corner - trowels, rakes, and a rusted watering can and started rearranging them. You watched him from the corner of your eye.

You offered Sam a court sketch of your past - the brief experience of college life that you abandoned to see the world beyond your little town. You left unsaid how your departure fractured the relationship with your parents, how their silence became a chasm. You skirted around their disappointment, the unspoken ache that wrapped around you like a well-worn scarf. The plans they had woven for you - the threads of stability, the safety net of expectations - and you had shredded them like old love letters. There was no need to delve into the guilt, the jagged edges of remorse.

To your surprise, Sam’s expression remained unclouded by judgment. His features were soft, understanding etched into the lines around his eyes and you felt yourself relax into the chair. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed the falter in Bucky's movements and the way his body stilled at one point of your recap, curious eyes flickering toward you. You kept your gaze on Sam.

“Where’d you go?”

Sam's inquiry hung over you, a weight pressing down on your chest. Your throat tightened and you cleared your throat before forcing yourself to respond, the word escaping in a curt tone.

“Seattle.”

Sam eased back into his chair, arms folding across his chest. “Impressive move,” he remarked with a smile and a slight nod of his head, “I’ve never been to Seattle, but it’s got that buzz for sure.” His words held a quiet enthusiasm, a stark contrast to your own muted tone. You longed to see the city through Sam’s eyes, to rediscover its vibrancy beyond the shadows that clung to your past there.

“Why did you come back?”

You should have expected Sam to ask that but your breath hitched nonetheless, the room seemingly closing in on you. Your mouth opened but nothing came out. Fingers fidgeted with the fabric of your jacket in your lap and your palms started getting clammy. Feigning indifference, you hesitated, as if carefully selecting your words.

“Uhm,” was all you managed, silence stretching like an eternity, though it was likely mere seconds only.

“You don’t have to answer that!”

Bucky’s voice cut through the air and your head snapped toward him, a touch startled. For a moment, you even forgot he was there, the clattering of the gardening tools had ceased probably a while ago already and he stood there standing in your direction. His gaze locked with yours, sincerity emanating from his blue eyes and something that looked a lot like a heavy understanding.

“Now stop this Sam, this is ridiculous.” Bucky’s gaze hardened again as it swung back to Sam. Said man rolled his eyes in a comical display of exasperation, arms flailing in the air.

“Can’t have fun with this guy,” he quipped, voice dripping with mock seriousness. Bucky exhaled a heavy breath as he returned to his work, the lines of his jaw etching in frustration.

Sam's attention shifted back to you, clapping his hands together with enthusiasm. “Alright, well,” he declared, “Welcome to the team! The job is yours.”

“You can’t decide that,” Bucky stated flatly, his back still turned to you.

Sam smirked, undeterred. “Sure can, man,” he countered, rising from his chair.

You observed them both quietly from your chair, grateful that the attention had shifted from you. You took a deep breath, savoring the momentary respite. However, the creak of the backroom door reminded you of the presence of Mr. Clark, who reappeared, his hooded eyes sweeping over you three.

“Is this a clandestine gathering, children?” he rasped, pointing his stick at each of you in turn. “Your work is done here, sons. Now get out of here, will you?”

Sam grinned and gave Bucky a clap on the back as he walked passed him to the entrance. “Until next week then, Mr. Clark,” he threw over his shoulder.

Bucky shot you a brief look and followed Sam with a nod to the old man.

“It was nice to see you again Mr. Clark,” you said before making your way to the entrance as well. Bucky held the door open for you and you thanked him as you stepped into the daylight.

“Need a ride home?” Bucky’s voice was gruff, yet gentler than you had heard before. Sam perked up at his question, surprise dancing across his features that quickly morphed into an amused smirk.

“That’s really nice, thank you,” you replied, your smile genuine. “But I’m not far, really.”

Bucky nodded, a fleeting smile curving his lips. “Alright well, get home safe then.” He swung his leg over his black bike - the one with the damaged front you noticed.

“Well Y/n, I guess we’ll be seeing you soon,” Sam remarked, throwing you a wink as he got on his own bike.

You exchanged quick goodbyes and soon enough the rumble of their bikes faded into the distance, leaving behind a lingering echo.

You chose the longer route home, deliberately avoiding the street that led past your parents' former house. The sun dipped lower secondly, casting elongated shadows on the pavement. The pebble you kicked along the sidewalk became your silent companion, its journey mirroring your own - a solitary wanderer seeking solace.

The irony of your situation didn’t escape you. A few days ago, the notion of accepting a job at a biker bar would have been laughable for you. But as you had learned, life had a way of upending expectations, revealing the hidden layers beneath the surface.

And as yesterday, Bucky etched his way into your thoughts. He was still an enigma to you. His gruff exterior, a fortress of stoicism, belied the intricate layers beneath. You got a glimpse of it again today. A softness that defied the world-worn facade. Determination stirred within you, urging you to unravel the mystery that surrounded him.

Since you would work in their bar now you were aware you’d see him more often and it filled you with a fluttering sensation - both thrilling and treacherous. You knew the risks, the precipice upon which you stood, but curiosity tugged at your sleeve.

He wasn’t easy to read, this biker with eyes like storm clouds. You wondered if you would ever learn to see behind the broodiness, the armor he wore like a second skin.

Perhaps you would find the key to unlock the enigma - the heart that beat beneath the leather.

Tag list:

@heletsmelovehim @moonlightreader649

#bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #james buchanan barnes #biker au #marvel bucky barnes #biker!bucky

[rookthorne]

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐫𝐦𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐧 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥

Bucky swore — he swore — that no harm would ever befall you, but he couldn’t fight against your own body. It would not stop him from tearing down mountains and breaking every law to keep you alive, though.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ✰ Biker!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ✰ 3.3k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ✰ Hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, sick fic, hospital environment

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ✰ We're finishing this insane month with a bang, folks.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 ✰ Angel by Sarah McLachlan

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ✰ Whumptober 2022 —   Masterlist

𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Bucky had kept watch over you for days - several very long fucking days. The illness that had you in its grasp was worsening every hour, but ever so stubbornly, you refused to get help, or let him call Stephen just to check you over. 

Each day that passed brought him closer and closer to a nervous breakdown. 

“It’s just the flu, Buck,” you had mumbled after a violent coughing fit. Bucky just stared, incredulously, into your much too flushed face that was soaked with sweat, and then glanced down your body to see your shivering frame wrapped in a dozen or so blankets. 

If this was just a flu, he would sell every single damn gun and bullet he owned, and turn in his patch. Presidency be damned. 

Bucky had seen what pneumonia could do to a person - when he and Steve were kids, Steve had been struck down more times than Bucky could count on both hands with numerous chest infections, and bouts of pneumonia that almost killed him.

It was a cruel twist of fate that you lay here before him just as sickly, and frail.

You had been so out of it that night that you didn’t even realise Bucky had moved you from his apartment, and onto the games room couch, where he and the others could keep an eye on you. Bucky hadn’t let you rest at home either - he told you it was so he could keep an eye on you himself while he ‘worked’, but the truth he omitted that the clubhouse was, in fact, closer to the hospital, than your home.

They all understood that when his Queen was down and out - whether you were a friend or a foe, you would incur his fury if even a hair on your head was out of place.

Bucky had settled himself next to the couch on the hardwood floor so he could watch your face for any sign of unusual discomfort, and he compulsively stroked your cheek with his thumb - a quiet but soft ritual of reassurance, that you were still here. 

Quiet footsteps approached his side and Bucky glanced from the corner of his eye to see Peter. “Hey, boss,” Peter whispered and Bucky nodded once, too focused on you to think of anything else. “How is she?” Peter asked quietly, peering over Bucky’s shoulder to look at your face that was much too pale. 

“‘M not sure,” Bucky mumbled back. He carefully moved some of your hair from your face when your eyes finally opened. “Hey, sweetheart,” he whispered and he watched you smile weakly.

The dimmed lights of the clubhouse did no favours for your worsening pallor, and Bucky felt helpless. He had fought with you over whether to go to hospital and you had adamantly refused. Even after Steve, Sam, Peter, and Natasha chimed in, you foolishly stood steadfast at the fact you were not stepping foot in a hospital over the ‘flu’.

Bucky knew the real reason, though. Hospitals were hard enough to stomach when he or one of the guys landed there, but for yourself? Hell would freeze over before you’d step foot in there willingly, for your own sake. 

He watched your bleary eyes focus on his face until they fell shut again, the flood of exhaustion too much to fight against. “That’s it, baby, need you to rest up,” he said quietly, resting his palm against your cheek so he could keep the hair from your face. 

“Buck,” Steve spoke up, and Bucky turned his head to look at him. “She’s getting worse by the hour-”

“I am not fuckin’ taking her, Stevie,” Bucky argued, though he was losing this argument and his resolve the longer he sat in front of you and heard your wheezing breaths. “She’ll hate me, I can’t do it.”

Peter’s hand rested on his shoulder and squeezed. “Boss, you might not have a choice,” Bucky looked up at him, only to see him staring at you. “I have a bad feeling, I can’t shake it.”

“No hospital.” 

Bucky’s gaze snapped to your pale face and he stared, shocked that you had woken so soon. Your breathing was laboured, your voice alarmingly weak, and it looked like you were fighting for every second you stayed conscious. 

“Sweets, we have to-” Peter started, crouching down to your level next to Bucky.

“I said no hos-” A violent coughing fit wracked your frame and Bucky launched forward. 

“Easy, easy,” he soothed, manoeuvring your shaking body so you would be sitting up. “Hang on, baby, hang on,” his palm landed hard against your spine between your shoulders, and Peter was ready with a bowl when you coughed up a hawk of phlegm. 

With you sitting up and forward, Bucky slipped in behind you to hold you to his chest. It was killing him, seeing you like this - he could feel every rattle and cough in his own ribs.

Bucky was so preoccupied with soothing you; he missed the shared look of worry between Steve, Sam, and Peter. If Natasha hadn’t gone to bed after spending the whole day with you and missed this violent fit, she would have taken charge and called an ambulance, regardless of Bucky’s protests. 

The coughing fit eased and the rattle of your lungs only instilled a sense of fear in Bucky that finally overrode any need to comfort you. 

You had to go, and you had to go now.

“Sweetheart,” he said softly, mindful to keep up the soft touches on your back and shoulders while you fought for breath. Peter moved the bowl away and walked back to the others, talking quietly amongst themselves. “We have to go, I’ll be there the whole time, I promise. You remember that promise I made you?”

You nodded slowly, and rested your head against his shoulder. “Please, no,” you whispered hoarsely. “If I have another fit, I’ll let you.”

Bucky sighed and looked up at his family, all of whom were watching the two of you like hawks. “Okay, just rest, baby, I’ll take you if you have another fit,” Bucky said, loud enough for the others to hear. They looked uneasy and Sam went to say something, but Bucky silenced him with a sharp glare - you had made a compromise, it was okay. 

You relaxed into Bucky’s chest and he tried his hardest to calm down, desperately ignoring the way your chest stuttered with every breath. 

It was going to be okay. 

Time seemed to drag the longer he sat with you in his lap, your ragged and heavy breaths that hitched with every single inhale and exhale drove him to the brink of nervous collapse. 

Steve, Sam, and Peter were still sitting at the bar playing a game of cards, for which Bucky was immeasurably grateful that they had stayed up with him, even under the illusion of ‘club business’ - he had to pretend everything was normal, that he wasn’t untethered. 

Cards hit the bar with a slap and Bucky heard Steve grumble, annoyed at yet another loss, when it happened. 

Bucky was watching old cartoons on the TV mounted to the wall when he felt you shift slightly, and he looked down to see your one visible hand in the bundle of blankets lying abnormally still. You always had a slight twitch in your sleep, and if you were positioned right while lying next to him when you slept, you would tickle his side or neck and wake him.

“Okay,” Bucky mumbled, “you’re alright.”

A single bead of sweat trailed down the side of your face and down your neck, where your pulse was racing. Bucky frowned and gently grabbed hold of your chin, tilting it backwards so the back of your head rested against the couch. 

You were pliant - a limp weight in Bucky’s arms. 

There was no visible change to your pallor, aside from your lips being abnormally pale compared to what they were before, and there was no change to your breathing. 

Bucky, however, could not help feel ice cold dread burn through his veins - the heavy weight of it settled deep in his stomach like an anvil.

“Can you hear me, doll?” The cards on the bar behind him stopped shuffling, and Bucky heard the bar stools creak and scrape against the floor. “Baby?” He watched your face for any sign of acknowledgement, any sign that you had heard him. 

Nothing.

He could feel the presence of the others standing behind him and he willed his heart to settle. “I think she’s asleep.”

“You feel it, too?” Bucky looked up at Peter and gaped. How the hell?

“Yeah,” Sam cut in. He moved to sit in the recliner next to the couch. “I do.”

Your face twitched, and Bucky stared wide-eyed with fear, searching your expression for something, anything. “I don’t-”

“Boss,” Peter started, and Bucky looked at him quickly. He was shuffling his feet against the floor like he was preparing to run. “Boss, we gotta go-” Peter pointed at your face and Bucky turned to look back at you.

Horror struck, he watched your lips become tinged with blue, and your breaths, once laboured and slow, turn into shallow pants - almost like you were gasping for air that wouldn’t come.

All hell broke loose. 

“Buck-” Steve yelled, but Bucky had already pulled you flush to his chest, and slipped his arm under your knees, and the other behind your shoulders. 

“Fucking MOVE!”

Peter sprinted to the door and ripped your car keys from the wall, his light feet pounded against the cement when he ran to your car to start it. The car revved to life just as Bucky reached the doorway.  

“Go! Go, go!” Sam shouted, grabbing the keys to their bikes. Steve caught his keys when Sam threw them, and Peter ran from your car to his bike.

“Parker! You’re up front!” Bucky heard Steve yell as he ran to your car, ignorant of the break in hierarchy - you were fucking dying, to hell with it. “We’ll be right behind you!” Steve shouted, and his bike roared to life. 

Bucky managed to manoeuvre you into the passenger seat with little fight. You were a deadweight, and that terrified him more than any nightmare he had ever experienced. 

Hell, this was a nightmare come true. 

“Baby, stay with me,” Bucky rushed, his hands eerily steady while he buckled you in. He slammed the door shut and slid into the driver’s seat, forgoing his own belt in favour of peeling out of the lot behind Peter. 

You coughed wetly next to him, and Bucky turned to look at you - his breath hitched as fear twisted his gut into a fisherman’s knot when a rivulet of phlegm dribbled from the corner of your mouth. 

Your lips were too fucking blue. 

“Baby,” he called, his eyes returning to the road as he ran red light after red light. “I’m takin’ you to the hospital, stay with me, c’mon!”

The engine roared as the revs climbed, his foot heavy on the accelerator with unprecedented desperation. Your car needed a set of red and blue lights - an ambulance was much too slow, compared to the speed Bucky maintained. 

Peter was riding ahead, close enough to create a triangle formation with Steve and Sam who were right on Bucky’s tail, their bikes tearing down the road and ready to intercept and prevent anything from getting in the way. 

Another coughing fit wracked your already slumped frame just as Bucky pulled up to the hospital. “Fuck!” He flew out of the driver’s seat, not caring that the car was still running. You fell easily into his embrace when he pulled you from the passenger seat and against his chest once more.

“Steve!” Bucky shouted, gesturing with his head towards the emergency doors of the hospital. “Go!” Steve ran through the double glass doors and Bucky could see a group of nurses run to him while he pointed towards the two of you. 

God, he never wanted to feel your deadweight in his arms ever again, Bucky prayed, adjusting you so your head lolled against his shoulder. 

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” Bucky murmured against your temple, jogging towards the doors, where a medical team of doctors and nurses waited. It was a mantra he’d chant on repeat if you would just wake up. “They’ll help, I’ve got you.”

There was a faint hiss by your ear, and the soft feel of cotton against your palms and tips of your fingers when they twitched against the fabric. A steady beep echoed by your head, and the smell of disinfectant burnt at your sinuses, but no matter how hard you struggled, you could not open your eyes. 

Where am I? 

“She’s improving with the course of intravenous antibiotics,” a soft voice, one that was entirely unfamiliar, began. It was coming from your feet and you strained to hear it over the combined noise of instruments cluttered at your head. “However, we will continue to keep her for observation.”

A ruffle of fabric, then paper, and another voice spoke. “Thanks, doc.”

That voice. Bucky. 

There were footsteps and a small sigh, then the sound of someone sitting down in a chair. You could hear the sound of a phone keyboard - clack clack clack.

No matter how hard you tried, your eyes refused to open. Your chest felt like it was in a vice, a band around the entire width of it that constricted when you inhaled. 

The person shifted in their seat, and then a hand - one that you had held so many times before - held your own. Callused, rough, but ever so soft, and gentle. Bucky, he was sitting right next to you, and you needed him; stuck in the darkness because your eyes refused to open, and you were scared.

The monitor by your head beeped at an increased rhythm, and you felt Bucky’s hand grip yours tighter. 

“Doll?” His chair scooted along the floor and you could feel his presence at your side, much closer and within reach - if only your body would let you reach out. “You’re alright, you’re safe.” You heard a quiet plunk when Bucky placed his phone on the surface by your head, and then you felt his now free hand against your jaw. “Can you open your eyes for me, baby girl?”

Bucky’s thumb brushed your cheek when your eyelids fluttered, and they slowly opened. Your vision was blurred, but you could make out the cotton sheets over your legs, and the plain sterile walls that enclosed you on all sides. 

“Hey,” Bucky breathed and your eyes roved lazily to meet his, the soft smile he wore enough to steady your heart rate. “How’re you feelin’?”

You blinked once, your mind still much too foggy to comprehend anything. Bucky seemed to realise this. “You’re in hospital,” he squeezed your hand and leant forward. “You gave us all a hell of a scare last night, doll.”

The flow of oxygen to your nose began to annoy you, and in your groggy state your arm moved to tug it away when Bucky stopped you. “No, no, leave it, you need it.” A quiet whine left your throat in protest and Bucky smiled gently, bringing your hand back down and placing it on your stomach. 

“Wha’ happen?” You slurred, staring at Bucky through half-lidded eyes.

“This ain’t no flu, sweetheart,” Bucky sighed, staring back into your face. You suddenly noticed that his eyes were puffy. “You basically stopped breathing on me last night. I broke a dozen laws trying to get you here,” he chuckled. “You’ve got pneumonia, and a chest infection.”

Your eyes widened slightly at the news and Bucky leaned back in his seat, rubbing his face with one hand, while the other still held yours. 

The door to your room opened and Bucky looked over, while you continued to stare at him. Pneumonia? 

“Hey, Steve,” Bucky said quietly as Steve came into your field of very limited vision.

Steve squeezed Bucky’s shoulder, offering him a cup of something, and then Steve looked at you, a soft smile on his face. He looked relieved. “Hey, Sweets,” he said quietly. “Gave us all a damned heart attack last night.”

Guilt churned in your stomach and you frowned, looking between the two of them. “‘M sorry.”

Bucky sighed, and Steve shook his head. “No apologisin’,” Steve started, walking back towards the door. “Though it would be good if you weren’t so damn stubborn.” The door clicked shut behind him and Bucky chuckled, shifting in his seat again. He looked so uncomfortable.

“Wan’ you,” you murmured, squeezing his hand slightly. 

Bucky raised his brows around the cup he was sipping from, and he looked at the bed. It was true, he pulled money from the club’s stash to make sure you got a room on your own - by some miracle it was enough, but the bed was still fucking small.

“I don’t think I’d fit, baby,” he whispered, placing the cup by your head and leaning forward again. 

“Don’ care,” you insisted, using what little strength you had to lift his hand and tug on it. 

“Alright, alright,” Bucky stood, letting go of your hand so he could take his boots off. “Those drugs they have you on made you needy, huh?” You nodded slowly and Bucky smirked. “No funny business, missy, doctor's orders.” 

A huffed laugh escaped before you could stop it and you coughed harshly. Bucky only winced in sympathy. 

“No funny-” You tried when it passed but Bucky shushed you. 

His hands snaked their way underneath your shoulders and hips, lifting you up with a playful grunt of exertion, and moved you to the side of the bed. “Don’ be an asshole, Barnes,” you murmured, rolling your eyes. 

Bucky grinned cheekily and moved your legs over so he could sit on the edge of the bed. “Never, baby,” he breathed and you smirked. Asshole, you thought sluggishly. 

“I’ll get you back,” you threatened. Bucky rolled his eyes while he adjusted some of the wires to loop up and over your head. 

Finally, Bucky shifted up the bed and laid back, lifting his legs with a loud and dramatic groan. You had to resist the urge to laugh at his antics, so you settled on poking him in the side while he tried to get comfortable. “Hey!” 

The monitor by Bucky’s head picked up in rhythm when the change of position made you feel woozy, and Bucky frowned. “C’mere,” he moved his arm to rest under your shoulder and pulled you close. You cuddled up to his side and rested your cannulated hand on his middle. “That’s it, need you to take it easy for me, sweetheart,” Bucky murmured against your forehead. 

Slowly you adjusted to the new position, and took as deep a breath as you could. 

“This is a hell of a lot more comfortable than those damn chairs,” Bucky murmured into the crown of your head. “How you feelin’?”

“Sore,” you whispered back sleepily. Every inhale was an effort against the elephant on your chest, but with Bucky holding you, you could forget about it, if only for a moment. 

Bucky’s hand rubbed your shoulders and back for a while, and you were almost lulled into a comfortable sleep when he spoke again. 

“I almost lost you.” 

His voice, always so strong and full of authority, wavered with unbearable fear.

With every last ounce of strength you had left, you moved your arm so you could rest your hand over his heart, the beat steady and true. 

“Love you,” you slurred, the current of sleep doing its damndest to pull you under. 

Bucky’s free arm moved so he could gently grab hold of your cannulated hand, and with practised ease, he intertwined your fingers as your eyes drooped shut - unable to fight against the current any longer.

“I love you more, sweetheart.”

This ‘experience’ with pneumonia is almost identical to the one I had as a teenager with my mother. That shit is scary!

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑  ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #marvel imagine #alternate universe #biker au #rookthorne's works #Angel

[mrs-barnes-rogers-writes]

Sometimes Your Soul Family Is The Only Family You Need Masterlist

Marvel AU

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader x Steve Rogers

Summary: 18 months ago you were a mess but with the help of your close friends you start to rebuild your life. Your soul friendships maybe chaotic but they're your family, just as you're theirs. With one of them about to have a baby, you and your misfit friends are here to visit. But will you stay? And what will the small town think of you having two soulmates and why do you keep finding yourself in the same place as a bunch of hot bikers.

"Sometimes families are assholes, sometimes your soul connections mean far more than family ever can. Sometimes your soul family is the only family you need." - Nurse Maggie

Series Warning: Smut, angst, shitty family, past heartbreak, miscarriage, sad bucky

Part 1

Part 2

#avengers au #steve rogers #bucky barnes #avengers #avengers biker au #biker au #marvel au #marvel fanfiction #steve rodgers x reader #bucky barnes x reader x steve rogers #bucky barnes x reader #soulmates #soulmate au

[goldengirlls]

red light

pairings — beefy!biker!bucky x fem!reader

warnings — dom!bucky, dacryphillia, dirty talk, fem!receiving, overstimulation, cum play and recording

sunmary —makin’a mess

authors note —i saw the beard and the leather and had an idea. sinful sunday c’mon in HOT !!!! plus @r0und3bitch doesn’t help my addiction. PART OF THE FOR OUR EYES ONLY VERSE

࿐ m.list 🂱 s.stan list

“‘S too much daddy.” Whimpering as you try to wiggle free from his grip possessive, demanding yet loving grip.

Leather skirt folded up, legs hooked over his spread out beefy thighs and his fingers working your weeping overstimulated pussy. Shirt pulled off your shoulders— your breasts on full display while his fingers twisted your hardened nipples.

Bucky’s beard rutting against your neck as his tongue and lips marked the sides of your neck and his eyes connected to the screen in front of him. Bucky’s lips pressed together, gathering his saliva, dropping it on your hypersensitive pussy— thumb spreading him all over your needy clit and hole.

“Ah ah,” Bucky’s words sending shockwaves straight to your leaking pussy, “Shoulda thought that through, before ya came in here wearin’ nothin’, baby.”

“Prancin’ around, bendin’ over in front of daddy’s cameras.” Curling his two thick long fingers brushing your spongey spot, digging your ass into his crotch— where his hard leaking dick hid.

“What if someone saw my pretty pussy?” Nipping at your ear, “Saw how worked up she gets when she needs her daddy?” Blue turning to Navy when he looked at your overworked pussy on the screen.

You whimper, grinding your over stimulated pussy into his ring cladded hand.

Bucky’s hand was brutal and possessive.

“Just so desperate to be full of me. Needin’ to be full of daddy, just leakin’ outta your pretty pussy— anytime, anywhere.”

Bucky curling his fingers, thumb with a heavy sensation and having you fall apart with just his hands might be one of his favorite things.

Tears running down your face, jumbled sentences and a messy brain to match your lips other pair of lips that Bucky had insisted on another orgasm.

“Needa cum daddy, ‘m sorry.” Speaking through whines and moans, desperately trying to get his fingers to hit your g’spot again.

“Yeah? You ever gonna do that again.” Referring to the screen in front of you— bare and desperate to be filled with Bucky’s cock and a rush of pleasure.

“‘M not, won’t happen again, daddy.” Whining as your orgasm approached fast. “Sorry.”

“Ok, baby. Cum for daddy, so he can clean up your mess.” Nipping at your neck and increased his speed with his fingers, pulling the orgasm you needed to give him.

“Good girl, baby. Makin’ such’a mess for daddy.” Eyes widening at the screen and the blinking light, as he watched your cum leaked out of you.

A few labored breathes and scoops of your cum Bucky’s voice graced your ringing ears, “At this rate,” A chaste kiss against your neck, “Will have to add another shelve in the library at home.”

taglist: @mackenzielovee @r0und3bitch @glitterandsparklessss

#biker!bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #smut #bucky smut #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan #bucky barnes x reader #sinful sunday #bucky barnes drabble #bucky #marvel #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes one shot #my writing #james buchanan barnes

[artificial-red-head]

Hell Bent For Leather Part 3

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader, Minor Steve Rogers X Natasha Romanov

Summary: Bucky talks to you again to convince you to come back the the clubhouse. But can you trust him?

Tags/Warnings: Biker AU, Paste Abusive Relationships, Dialogue Heavy

A/N: I'm not dead. I did finish this at 3 AM so I make no promises on how good this is.

Chapter 3: All await, engine is ticking over

Bucky had another talk with Steve and Natasha in the morning. After talking with Nat about her possibly still alive, long-lost sister, she finally gave them a name.  

Y/N. 

The name replayed in his head. He remembers a couple of months prior to him leaving Hydra that Rumlow was throwing that name around. Back then, Bucky did not care about whatever woman Brock was trying to pursue, but now he wished he would have done something. Anything to prevent this mess of a situation from happening. 

He wishes he would have shot Rumlow right between the eyes the night that he left. 

Both Steve and Bucky agreed that if the woman from the diner was who they thought she was, then Bucky would take her to the clubhouse–if he could convince her. If she were anything like Natasha then she was definitely stubborn, but that was not going to stop him. 

Bucky went back to the Maximoffs first, not wanting to go all the way past the motel to the diner if you were not there. 

Pietro sat behind the front desk with his feet raised on the desk and flipping a butterfly knife around only stopping when he saw Bucky. He was more than willing to tell him that you had gone to the diner early that morning and were not going to be back until dark. 

Bucky was not a patient man–something his ma told him quite often–and was not going to wait until you got back. He needed to talk to you now.   

Under any other circumstances, he would have not been this terrified to talk to a woman. James Buchanan Barnes was a smooth talker and could get his way with just about any woman, and damn did he know it. But the more he thought about the situation the more freaked out he was, not even the rumbling of the engine in his motorcycle was enough to calm his nerves. 

He sat in the little parking lot in front of the diner for a couple of minutes, mauling over his thoughts. 

How would you react? 

Was this a good idea? 

Could he convince you? 

After convincing himself that he could convince almost any woman to do just about anything he wanted–jesus, he sounded like a man whore–he finally got off his bike and went into the diner before he could psych himself out.   

Upon entering the door he noticed that you now had a name tag attached to the little retro dress that you had been wearing, neither of which he had not noticed before. He stepped closer to read the name tag. 

Y/N. 

It could not have been a fucking coincidence he told himself. 

He needed to talk to you now but from the way that you were avoiding him, he knew that you definitely did not want to talk to him. Instead of waiting for you to come to him, he sat down at one of the booths in your area, keeping his eyes down on the table until you had to come up to him.

“Why are you here?” You asked him harshly and in a lowered tone. 

“I needed to talk to ya.” 

You furrowed your eyebrows, “I don’t even know you.” 

He took a deep breath, “I’m Bucky Barnes of the Howling Commandos Motorcycle Club.” 

Your eyes widened a bit at his name. You looked back at the kitchen before placing your hands down on the table and leaning over, “I'm on the clock.” 

“Fine, then I would like a coffee.” 

You left his table and returned with a mug and a pot of coffee–who knows how long ago it brewed–and started pouring slowly. Bucky took this as his sign to talk. “Look, I got an offer for you.” 

You looked up from the coffee pot with a look in your eyes that he could not pinpoint, uncertainty maybe, but he continued, “You don't have to take it, but I think it will be better than your situation here. The club owns a bar in the next town over and we’re understaffed. You’ll be paid a hell of a lot better there and we can offer you a room at the clubhouse.”  

He could see the panic on your face as soon as he mentioned the clubhouse. You placed the coffee pot roughly on the table, for a moment he thought that it would break. “I don't want a room in the clubhouse.” You stated. 

“Sit down,” Bucky whispered. This was not going how he planned. “Please.”

You looked back at the kitchen again before deciding to sit down across from him. 

“You were a part of Hydra.” He stated bluntly. 

“How did-” 

He cut you off, “It doesn't matter how I know. You're far enough out to be safe but take the job at the bar and me and my club will protect you.”

There was nervousness in your eyes as you scanned the restaurant. “No, no more clubs.” You said still not looking at him.

Bucky snapped his fingers in front of you on the table to get your attention. “Look at me, sweetheart. We’re nothing like those sick bastards, I know of the horrors that happened there because I’ve also witnessed it first hand. I’m sure you’ve heard of the Howling Commandos from someone or other that strayed from Hydra.” His voice lowered even more when he mentioned Hydra.

He took a deep breath, “If you don’t want the job that’s fine, at least come with me to our territory, you’ll have plenty of job options and I can keep an eye on ya. Please.” 

You looked away from him again as you thought about it. He knew what he was saying was a lot to take in at once considering you had just recently left Hydra territory. But he was trying his hardest to convince you that you would be safer with them. 

“I’ll take it.” You said, making eye contact with him but there was still nervousness in your voice. 

Bucky looked you gently in the eyes and said in all sincerity, “I promise you doll, nothin’ gonna happen to you.”

Before Bucky left the diner he told you that he would meet you at the Maximoff’s after you got off of work before he took you back to the clubhouse. You had asked him how he knew that you were there and he explained to you that they were technically their territory since they were under the Camandos’ protection. And he also mentioned that Pietro had called and said that there was a possible gang member in the area. You had just huffed a small laugh at him and told him to leave before he could have gotten you into trouble. 

Bucky had called from the Maximoff’s phone to tell Steve that he was successful and would be bringing you back in a couple of hours. 

“Where was she?” Steve had asked. 

“Working down at Peggy's old place and stayin' at the Maximoffs.” 

“Sharon owns it now, doesn’t she?” Bucky could hear his sigh from the other end of the line.

“Yeah, and you should go talk to her and tell her that we just snatched one of her waitresses.” 

Steve scoffed out a laugh, “And ya couldn’t have done it while you were there?”

“I was too busy trying to convince this poor girl that she should come with me to the clubhouse. She was scared out of her mind and probably thought that I was gonna bring her back to that hell hole for steppin’ in our territory.” 

Steve ended up hanging up on him after he mentioned that he should have gone to see Sharon a long time ago. Better two years late than never. Steve had scoffed at him again and told him to mind his damn business. 

He was sitting in the motel lobby looking at a magazine when you came back. He told you to change your clothes and pack up and he would tell Pietro and Wanda that he was getting you out of their hair. You ended up rolling your eyes at him when you thought that he was no longer looking at you. 

Wanda had asked him if that was Natasha’s sister after you left. He questioned the woman and she had just told him that it was intuition. Bucky called her a witch and she shrugged her shoulders and smiled. 

You came back to the lobby about fifteen minutes later with wet hair and a small bag. Bucky raised an eye at you before remembering that you were quite literally on the run from Hydra.

He told you to follow behind him on the way to the clubhouse. By now the sun was setting and the look on your face before they had rolled out of the parking lot he could tell that you were tired. Tired of working a double shift or tired of being on the road, he was unsure. 

You followed quietly behind him, Bucky had to look back every once in a while to make sure that you were still there. He had made it this far and he did not want to lose you now that he was so close. 

By the time you had both made it back to the clubhouse, he could tell that you were barely awake. He offered to take your bag and you did not even put up a fight, just nodded your head and held it out for him. 

You followed him into the clubhouse, waking up slightly from the lights and looking around.

He saw the look in your eyes the exact moment you saw her. Your eyes had started to water. 

“Natalia?”

Taglist: @vicmc624 @emmabarnes

#biker au #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #natasha romanov #steve rogers #bucky barnes #howling commandos

[buckyalpine]

Matching

Okay look at how adorable these are. Does this not scream biker Bucky?! Cause imagine you go shopping and you see these hanging on the racks. You swear Bucky has identical vests and you’re not about to go home without getting his furbaby a matching outfit to wear with her daddy. 

You dig through the rack trying to find an xxs to fit the little feline, smiling in satisfaction when you find her size, not even bothering to look at the price because the little outfit is too perfect. 

You made sure you got home before your boyfriend, hoping to surprise him for when he got back from his shop. You wandered around the house, looking for the fluffy white furball, finding her tucked away in her cozy spot near the window. 

“C’mere princess” you cooed, picking her out of her cat tree and smuggling her into your room. You giggled to yourself as you slipped the jean vest on, fastening the buttons on while Alpine tried to bat your hands away. “C’mon baby, it’s to look pretty for daddy” You gave her a pointed look and she merped, seemingly understanding. 

You bounced on your feet when you heard the door open, running over and jumping into Bucky’s arms as soon as he stepped inside, his strong arms easily lifting you up. 

“What are you smiling about sugar” Bucky chuckled noting your cheeky smile when you greeted him, peppering a few soft kisses onto your cheeks before setting you down on your feet. 

“Nothin’“ You shrugged, your eyes still sparkling while Bucky playfully rolled his eyes, letting his fingers skim under your shirt making you squirm. 

“You hiding something from me baby?” He cocked an eyebrow, tickling you further when you tried to escape, squealing when he easily tossed you over his shoulder. He made his way down the hall, curious about what you were up to. 

“Well, you can see for yourself” You grinned as he walked into the bedroom, bursting out laughing when he saw his cat dressed exactly like him.  

“Oh my god” Bucky snorted as Alpine slinked off the bed and purred against his leg, butting her head against him so he’d pick her up. “Don’t you look pretty baby” Bucky cooed at kissed his little princess, giving her a scratch behind the ears before admiring the jean vest she had on. “Where’d you get this princess” 

Alpine blinked at him, nuzzling her head under his chin while he grinned at the other vest that was laid out, both tiny versions of what he had in his closet. “Mommy wanted us to match, huh” He set Alpine down, wrapping his arms back around you, pulling you in for a sweet kiss. “So this is what you’ve been up to” 

Bucky narrowed his eyes at a white piece of paper on the ground, finding the receipt from your little shopping spree on the floor. His eyes grew wide at the price, shaking his head when you sheepishly smiled at him, giving him your best puppy eyes. 

“Jesus y/n, she’ll have to catch like 300 mice to make up for the price of her clothes” He chuckled, knowing damn well if he had been with you he would have added a tiny matching bike helmet and silver chain to the list. You giggled, snuggling your face into his chest, preparing for another set of clothes, this time maybe a leather jacket. 

“Anything for our baby” 

#biker bucky #biker bucky au #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #biker!bucky fluff #biker bucky barnes #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky x f!reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #biker bucky x you #marvel biker au #marvel fluff #james buchanan bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x reader #biker!bucky #biker!buckybarnes

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Royal Treatment

Warnings: noncon/rape, violence, broken bones, dirty talk, name calling.

Character: biker!Frank Castle

Summary: Your father's in a dangerous business and you're caught in the collateral damage.

Note: This is for my bitch @lokislastlove who gave me the idea for the smut and encouraged me to go off so here we go.

I would greatly appreciate reblogs, comments, and asks. Anything you can give me for feedback. As well, likes are always welcome. Thank you for taking the time to read.

Gina pops her lips as she checks her bubblegum pink gloss in her phone camera. She pouts as you glance over your shoulder impatiently, her steps out of rhythm with your own, her many shopping bags hitting your leg.

You squint as you watch a man stop to browse through a store window with intense curiosity. As if it's not real. As if he's pretending.

“What time is it?” You huff as you look ahead at the mall doors.

“Babe, I told you, I’m done,” she rolls her eyes, “it’s barely even six.”

“Just wondering,” you grumble, “you sure don’t seem excited for your date?”

“It’s daddy’s idea,” she frowns, “some guy running deliveries for him. I told him, I’m not gonna end up with some carrier.”

“Ah,” you utter.

You know the type, you’ve entertained too many suppers with strange men on your father’s behalf. As protective as he can be, his control does not stop at his own daughter. If you’re going to be with a man, it’s going to be someone he approves of.

“Well, have fun with that. I can always give you a call around 9:30 about your leaking shower.”

“Oh now, that won’t work. Not again. I’ll get the free drinks and be done with it,” she shrugs as you hit the button to trigger the automatic doors, waiting for her to step through first. “You should’ve bought that cashmere, it looked so good on you.”

“I’m trying to convince my father on a Masters program so I cut the credit card up,” you bemoan, “he says I don’t need another degree and I told him I don’t need a husband. Not yet.”

“I don’t miss college,” she frowns at her phone and pushes her shoulders up against the mid-autumn chill, “brrr, my uber is stuck in traffic. Ugh, anyhow, I only miss the boys. The parties were fun but daddy would send Ray and he’d spoil all my fun.”

“Honestly, I don’t miss the parties or the boys. Once they heard my last name…”

“Yes, well, you’re lucky I’m still your friend with how your dad looks at me,” she sticks her tongue out at you as you stop at the edge of the pavement and look around the lot. She jiggles her leg and peeks inside her Sephora bag, “this new eyeliner is gonna make my eyes pop…”

She goes off in a rant about some tutorial she just watched about how to do a perfect cat eye as your attention wanders. The doors open but you don’t glance over, not obviously so. You take out your phone and angle it so it reflects the man zipping up his leather jacket. The sky’s grey, who needs sunglasses?

“Are you sharing my uber?” she asks as she lifts her chin and points to a Blue Elantra, “he’s that one coming up now.”

“So I can watch you get mad at your makeup brushes? Pass,” you cross your arms, “I’m going to grab some Starbucks and get the train. Like I said, gotta show dear old dad that I’m responsible.”

“With a light foam latte, no doubt,” she chides.

“Whatever,” you wave her off, “go, enjoy your free dinner.”

“Bye, babe,” she flicks her fingers and slides the bags to her elbow as she steps off the curb towards the uber as it pulls up, “I’ll text you all about it.”

“Bye,” you dismiss her and turn back to the mall doors. 

The car whirs off as you head back to the entrance. It’s quicker to cut through and hit the one in the shopping centre and go out the east exit. You pick up your pace as you enter, passing by the Pandora jeweler at the first corner and allowing yourself a look back. He’s gone, hopefully for good.

You get the seasonal apple macchiato and pay with your debit. You inhale the rustic scent as you weave around shoppers and find your way to the east door. The station is just up the street.

The platform is busy at the time of day. You squeeze into the underground car and cling onto an upright pole, both to keep yourself and your coffee from spilling over. You hug your arm around it as you count the stops, waiting for the robotic voice to call your station.

You’re the only one to step off at the platform, elbowing your way out and taking your first sip from your flat coffee. You head up the cement steps and emerge under the dimming sky of the fall evening. 

As you start down the sidewalk, the tear of a motorcycle engine roars through the air. It’s not unusual and for a moment, you think you know the baritone of the deafening rumble, but it’s not your father’s. The closer it gets, the less familiar it is.

The thunder softens as the bike slows but you don’t look back, even as you sense the silhouette of chrome and matte black beside you, keeping a snail's pace with you. The man walks his bike with you, trying to catch your attention.

“Enjoy your shopping trip, princess?” the deep voice grits out mockingly, “buy anything nice to wear for daddy?”

You take a drink from your coffee and keep on. The train isn’t as close to your house but usually the neighbourhood is quiet once the streetlights come on. Your boots scuff as the engine rolls beside you as the man steers along the curb.

“Didn’t your daddy ever teach you manners, princess?”

“I’m not your princess, Castle,” you snarl, not looking over to confirm the name. Back at the mall, you couldn’t mistake him and how out of place he was among the designer boutiques.

“Ah, you know who I am,” he taunts and revs his engine menacingly.

Again, you give no response, opting instead to walk faster. He matches your speed as you turn onto Walnut Row, the old church looming sinisterly as the moon limns from behind the clouds.

“Now, I’m just tryna talk to you, princess, and you’re not being very nice–” he grabs your arm and you trip, reeling as he yanks you to face him. “I got a message for your daddy and the thing is he won’t hear it from me.”

“Get off of me,” you sneer, “now. How dare you touch me?”

“How dare I touch daddy’s little angel,” he teases, his grip makes your arm throb, “oh, he’d hate that. Imagine how pissed he’d be.”

He laughs darkly and you bare your teeth in disgust. Without a thought, you crash the cup into his chest, the lid popping off as the coffee bursts out across his leather jacket, speckling across his face, a few droplets catching in his dark hair. He lets you go as he wipes the mess away from his brow with his gloved hand.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he inhales as his tongue pokes out to taste the coffee along his lip, “you shouldn’t have done that.”

“Fuck off,” you turn and march away from him, faster and faster as you past the stone statues before the church.

His engine growls and he zips up beside you. As he hops the curb, you barely jump out of the way, staggering to the side and tossing your arms out to keep your balance. He snarls and kills the motor.

You don’t look back as he climbs off the bike and drops it without a care. No club member in their right mind treats their ride like that, not unless provoked.

Shit.

You fall into a run as you pump your arms, sensing his pursuit. Your feet clatter down frantically as you pass the iron fence of the cemetery, his steps echoing closer as you near the gate.

You look ahead, you won’t make it home before he catches you. You don’t even know you can run the last block without keeling over.

You cut across the patch of grass and race under the archway that marks the entrance of the graveyard. You run up the center path and veer left, uncertain of where you’re going. If you can lose him among the stones you might be able to jump the fence. Somewhere, if he’d fucking stop!

He easily chases you up the stoned walkways set around the resting spots, both old and new, and you know he’ll catch you sooner than later. You apologise under your breath and turn off across the grass, trying to hope over the sacred soil of those passed.

You hear him curse and stumble behind you. You quickly flit behind a taller stone and follow the maze of markers along the other side. You hide behind the war memorial as you hear his heavy pants and you watch his shadow in the moonlight.

You hold your breath, waiting for him to jog off in the other direction before you push yourself away from the soldier’s tomb.

You stagger away and kick your legs as hard as you can as you see the tall points of the fence. Getting over might be treacherous and a bit painful but preferable to his wrath. You chug over and don’t pause to ease your burning lungs.

You clasp onto the iron bars and put your foot up over the crossbar near the bottom. You hike your next leg up, arms straining as you climb off the ground. You hear him and scramble to get higher, out of his grasp.

“Too slow, princess,” he grabs the bottom of your coat and pulls you down, letting you fall on your back across the hard ground. You gasp as the wind is knocked from your chest and you writhe on the patchy grass. “Ha,” he huffs as he plants his foot just below your throat, “you should’ve just taken a message.”

He slides his boot off of you and bends to grab the back of your collar. He hauls you up to your feet as you latch onto his wrist and try to shake him off. He spins you away from him so you hit the metal gate, the iron crunching against your nose and clanging through your skull.

“I didn’t wanna be mean, princess, but you ain’t the sweet little girl I thought you were,” he snarls as he pushes his knee between yours, trapping you against the fence. He snakes his arms around you as you grab onto the fence and shove back, trying to force him away.

“Get away–”

“Now you shut the fuck up before I make you,” he barks as he pulls down the tab of your jacket, “this don’t gotta be hard.”

“Fuck you,” you cough and snort back the blood trickling from your nose, “asshole, get the hell–”

You throw back an elbow and he deflects it easily. He grabs your wrist and twists your arm back, urging you flusher to the fence. Your arm throbs as pain courses from shoulder to wrist. His grip crushes you as he reaches around once more and tugs down your zipper until your jacket falls open.

“You fucking ass,” you snarl.

He puts more pressure on your arm until you whimper. You smell the scent of apple and espresso stale as you feel the dampness floating in the air.

“Do yourself a favour and stay quiet,” he warns as his hand dances up your shirt and covers one side of your chest. He squeezes and purrs, “shit, princess, you feel damn nice.”

You sniff again, nearly choking as another pang runs along your brow as your nose pulses. “Why are you doing this?”

“Well, baby,” he gropes you gruffly before curling his fingers around the top of your shirt, pulling it down beneath your bra, “I was gonna have you tell your daddy I’m coming for him but I think the message will be clearer this way.”

He follows the strap of your bra and pushes it down your shoulder. His hand falls back between the cups and he tugs down the band until your chest falls out. You gasp as you grip the fence and wiggle the numbing fingers of your trapped arms. He fondles you, tweaking your nipple as you squirm, the cold air pricking across your skin.

“Mmm, fuck, I like the feel of you already,” he growls as he bends to nuzzle along the crook of your shoulder, “are you shaking, baby? You scared?”

“Fuck you,” you snap.

“Getting to it,” he snickers before he sinks his teeth along the bottom of your neck. You exclaim as he sucks the flesh until it throbs, his bite cinching until the flesh breaks. 

He pulls away as he lets go of your arm and you try to bat away his hand as he searches beneath the trim of your jacket. He squeezes your tit until you wince and pinches your nipple to point of torture. You grunt through your gritted jaw as you struggle between him and the iron pillars.

“Look, princess, I can treat you like the king I am or I can rule with an iron hand,” he slaps your ass from the side, catching just as much as your thigh, “up to you.”

“Stop, please,” you cling to the fence with one hand as you smack his thick fingers, “please, I’ll tell him. I’ll my father–”

“Nah, too late for that,” he drags his fingers along your ass and grips the back of your leather pants, “he’s just as damn stubborn as you. He won’t believe it, till he sees it.”

He pulls on the waist of the pants until the button pops off in the front. His other hand slips down from your chest and down your stomach to push down your fly. He runs his hands around the top of your pants and shoves them down roughly. You latch onto his hand and try to peel it away.

He growls and bends your finger back. You try to wiggle out of his grip and he pops your finger out of the socket completely. You scream and rip your hand up to look at you limp digit and whine.

“Don’t make me break em all, baby,” he bristles, “you make it too much fun.”

Tears spill out at the agony in your hand. You lean it against the cold metal and brace the fence with your other. You hang your head forward, fear overriding your wits. He tears down the leather to your knees and his rough palms graze back up your thighs before smacking your ass harshly. 

He kneads as he gives a purr, jiggling your ass and snickering. 

“Oh, princess,” he taunts and tickles along the top of your thighs, “you are delicious.”

He pulls a hand back and shifts his boots. You close your eyes and clutch the iron bar, cradling your injured hand against your stomach as you hear the metal teeth of his zipper split. He jostles against you as he steps closer and pulls you back by your hips.

You press your forehead to the fence and bite down as he slides two fingers along your folds, calluses rubbing against your tender cunt. He presses down on your clit, flicking and rolling it meanly. He plays with your sensitive bud until it’s raw.

He prods along your entrance, angling his hand around to poke inside. He dips into his knuckles before slipping out only to ram in as far as he can. He jolts you as he repeats the motion, fucking you hard with his hand, pushing on your walls as if to see how far he can stretch you.

He draws his fingers out of you completely and moves his arm across your shoulder, pinning you against the iron fence so your cheek presses painfully against it. He guides his tip along your cunt, rubbing it up and down, trying to wet it despite your terrified reticence. He exhales impatiently and lines up with your entrance.

He slams his hips against your ass, sinking into you with a single thrust. You exclaim and throw your hand back. Your nails catching the stubbly skin along his neck and you claw into it. He grunts and grabs your hand and shoves it away, holding it against the fence as he reaches for your other and pulls it up.

He hooks his fingers around your wrists and the iron bars, squeezing until the bones feel as if they’ll snap. You whimper as he moves his hips, slapping against you mercilessly. Your legs feel like jelly and you fight to stay on your feet. You feel his fervour in the vibration of the metal fence, shuddering with each tilt of his pelvis.

He ruts into you harder and harder, your wedged boots slipping in the dirt as his grip on your wrists is the only thing keeping you upright. Your hips ache with each cruel thrust, back arch awkwardly as you try to ease the violence of his intrusion.

You breathe through your mouth, your nose clogged as blood flows out freely and stains your tongue. 

“Oh, princess, you’re fucking tight, huh? Precious little thing. Daddy’s gonna hate to see the state of ya,” he sneers against your scalp, “fuck, I’m gonna bust already. The fucking grip you got on me, like you want me to cum in ya? Huh? Is that what you want–”

“N-no,” you murmur in a nasally voice, “please…”

“Please? Oh, how can I say no to you, princess,” he mocks.

“No!” You gulp out, “don’t–”

He fucks into you furiously, your knees buckling. He growls and groans as he chases his release and you pull yourself closer to the fence, trying to wriggle off of him. He rams into you, over and over, hammering until you’re weak.

He grunts and spasms as he cums, resting his weight against you as his rhythm eases. He fucks his cums into you in long strokes so that you feel it leaking out around him. He pushes in to his limit and shudders, pet your head before placing a gentle peck against your crown.

“Now you run home to daddy,” he grits and slides out an inch at a time, “and you show him what I’ve done to his baby girl… tell him I’ll do worse to him and every fucker he throws in my way.”

#frank castle #dark frank castle #dark!frank castle #frank castle x reader #biker!au #au #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #one shot #mcu #marvel #the punisher

[buckymilf]

this bucky with this steve

#they look like leaders of a gay biker gang #bucky barnes #stucky #bucky #steve rogers #stevebucky #captain america #wintershield #marvel #steve x bucky #winter soldier #stucky au #evanstan

[imagines-to-quench-thirst]

What do you think biker!Loki would be as a boyfriend? Would he be sweet and caring while he gives you a ride around the city and makes occasional stops to take pictures whit you on his camera? Or maybe brooding silent type who likes to see you sit on his bike and then proceeds to fuck you on it? Or maybe one of those people who loves to see his clothes like his jacket on your shoulder, or maybe one of those people who lives for the classic romantic moments while shielding you form the rain while he holds his jacket above your head while you hands are on his cheeks warming them and making sure he shares some of that heat…🧎🏻‍♀️😍🏍️

#biker au #biker Loki #imagine #marvel imagine #biker Loki imagine #biker!au #biker!loki #loki oneshot #loki imagine #loki x oc #loki drabble #blurb #avengers imagine #tom hiddelston imagine #mcu loki #avengers x you #marvel x you #marvel x reader

[saiyanprincessswanie]

Chrome & Leather - Chapter 12

Pairing: OFC x Billy, OFC x Steve

Summary: Jessie finds herself slowly trying to pick up the pieces of her life. At times she thought she could rely on friends and family, but she finds herself relying on Billy instead. Their friendship starts slowly but builds into him being around her all the time. Jessie is now even noticing the way he looks and can’t figure out if it's hormones or if she is falling for the Sheriff. Feelings or not, Jessie comes to find herself leaning on him more as she welcomes her baby. 

Word Count: 2896

Warnings: Mention of flashback, some guilt, fluff, slowly falling in love

A/N: Please keep in mind the pairings that are listed. We are going to see a shift in the story and I don’t want people mad for not realizing this. This is my first fic with an original female character, Jessie Barnes. Face claim for Jessie Barnes is model Jessy Hartel.   

Thank you to my beta reader @music-culture-mythology​​​​​

Page-break by @whimsicalrogers​​​​​​​​​​​

To stay up to date with my writing follow my side-blog and turn on the   notifications for @saiyanprincessswanie-sideblog​​​​

Reblogs & Comments on Tumblr are welcomed and encouraged. 😊💜

I do NOT give my consent to have my work translated or reposted on any social media platform, apps or third party sites. If you see my work anywhere else besides my personal Tumblr & AO3 accounts then it has been stolen. I will NEVER give written or verbal permission to repost or translate any of my fanfics as they’re MY intellectual property. 🚫🚫

How could something so good and pure fall apart in the blink of an eye? The love of Jessie’s life who had just proposed not long ago now tells her that she meant nothing to him. Her right-hand rubs softly over her small belly that carries Steve’s child. He doesn’t want them anymore, something he had made very clear. At first, she thought it was just the news from the guilty verdict that set him off. Knowing that he would be in jail for the child’s life would surely break him down mentally. But, she had promised to wait for him.

Jessie tried to visit him the next day but was told she was no longer on the visitor list. After a few weeks, she tried again, but still nothing. It wasn’t until she got a letter from Steve telling her to, “stop being pathetic and accept I don’t want either of you,” that the news sunk in. They didn’t matter to him and that was something she would have to accept.

Now all Jessie can do is sit in silence on her porch, staring into the distance with tears in her eyes at nothing in particular. She would have to do this alone. Of course, Nat, Winnie, and her friends told her they would be with her every step of the way, that Steve just needed time, but now sitting here she realized it was going to be just her and the baby. Her friends wouldn’t want to be around her when they could all go down to the bar and drink. Winnie was still grieving and trying to get the last of the renovations done at the diner. Both women had learned Becca made them beneficiaries of her life insurance policy totaling two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Leaving one hundred and twenty-five thousand for each of them. Until the diner reopens again in a couple of weeks they both can do what they need to grieve and pick up the pieces of their lives again.

As of now Nat and Jessie were forced into seeing the day-to-day operations of the mechanic shop. Bucky and Steve signed over their business to the two women hoping it would help them financially. Nat naturally understood how the business was run and had Tony help her if she needed it. To distance itself from the men in jail they changed the name of the shop after the biker club, The Howling Commandos. With Bucky and Steve both out of the picture, they hired on two more employees, Loki who had stayed to help his brother Thor and nineteen-year-old Peter Parker who had been a friend of Tony’s. With the shop at full staff, it was time for them all to work hard and move on.

Though moving on was something Nat refused to do. She found an old friend who had just become a lawyer that she knew from high school and was now back in town opening an office. Smiling to herself Nat left the manager's office to go visit Matthew Murdock. 

It had been over a month now that the diner was once again open to the public after being closed for renovations. When they first opened bright and early their normal customers were not there to greet them for breakfast. Jessie, Wanda, Sharon, and Pietro waited for someone to come in but still, they were empty. Jessie worried that the diner was going to be hard to bring back after what took place here. She still has flashbacks of holding her sister's dying body just a few feet from where she stood. Now Jessie stood there rubbing her belly at four months pregnant pondering her future. Being a single mom and pregnant in a small town was already frowned upon. Though in her case it was one thing having a child out of wedlock but to have a child by someone who was convicted of murder, well that was the icing on the cake. The town folks didn’t hide their distaste for her when she went shopping at the grocery store.

Snapping back out of her thoughts Jessie noticed it was now 7 am and was just starting to feel nervous when Billy and his deputies walked in. Jessie walked over to them and smiled, letting them sit in their usual section. Together Wanda and Jessie worked to help all five men and get their orders in.

Jessie set Billy’s coffee down in front of him. “Thank you for showing up. I know how people feel right now about this diner or at least the family that owns it.”

“Don’t worry about what others say. Time will fly by and people will be back in here again. Just wait and see. Right guys?” Billy asked his men who shook their heads and agreed. He looked back at Jessie. “Besides, I have to make an announcement at the Sheriff's department later as I have a new Assistant Sheriff being named today. Since I have the press showing up I’ll be sure to name drop the diner.” He winked at Jessie as she looked at him in shock.

“You don’t have to do that. Just focus on your new Assistant Sheriff and remember to play nice.” Jessie went to the kitchen to help Wanda bring their food out. The women hurried with serving each man his plate and refilling their cups.

Billy smirked at her as she filled his coffee. “I always play nice sweetheart. I’m not the problem. The problem is finding someone to take orders and do their job correctly.”

Once seeing everyone was settled in with their food Jessie couldn’t help the smirk that formed on her face as she stood with a hand on her hip. “Let’s be honest, how long has it been for you trying to fill that position? A year or two? It sounds like you can’t keep the help.”

“I don’t want help, sweetheart. I need someone with…skills to know what to do in that position.” The way Billy said the last word had her suck in a quick breath as everyone at the table looked between him and her. Jessie turned bright red as she bolted to the back office. 

Later that evening it was announced in front of the town that Frank Castle would serve as the new Assistant Sheriff. Of course, Jessie and her friends were happy to see Frank back in town. He had also gone off to join the military at one point and came back to live in the town one over from them. Frank married and had kids until someone murdered them. He was set on throwing himself into work and trying to find who had killed his family.

A part of Jessie wanted to bring up Bucky and Steve’s case but she was afraid of stirring the pot on a crime that shook the town. Instead, Jessie would find herself that night handwriting an anonymous letter detailing the case from beginning to end. If anyone was going to work hard on a case of former friends it would be him. It was a few weeks later after she left the note for Frank that she learned from her ma’ that a new lawyer named Matt Murdock had already accepted the case pro-bono. According to Winnie, it would take up to a couple of years for the lawyer to really dig deep. Jessie was happy to hear this news but it still didn’t change her relationship or lack of one with Steve.

So Jessie continued to work through her pregnancy. She wasn’t sure at first if she wanted to know the sex of the baby but now Jessie was dying to know. On the day she was going to find out Winnie ended up sick with a cold, leaving Jessie to go alone. That was until she ran into Billy at the hospital. Small talk turned into what she was there for and he insisted on being there for her. At first, she declined but the more Jessie thought about being alone she accepted his offer. An hour later with tears falling down her face, she found out she was having a boy. The baby was healthy and perfect, which is all that she wanted. The doctor printed the picture so she could show her ma’.

Leaving the doctor's office Jessie wiped her tears of joy away as Billy joined her outside. Jessie looked up at him and smiled. “Thank you for coming with me. I know you probably had better things to do but that meant a lot not going alone.”

Billy smiled back at her and took in her glowing features. “Honestly, this was more important than what I was doing. I’m happy the baby and you are healthy. Seeing the baby on the screen, well, it took my breath away. I’ve never seen something so innocent before and I’m thankful you shared that with me.”

Her stomach fluttered at his words, whether it was the baby or not she will never know. But, his words had so much meaning behind them that she started to blush from how his brown eyes looked her over. Unlike her friends and ma, Jessie held no ill will against Billy for testifying in court against her brother and Steve. In her eyes, he was only doing what the law required him to do. Sure she was upset in the beginning but she reminded herself it was Bucky and Steve who got into trouble. Now, Billy was just a friend trying to help her out and that meant the world to her.

“I-I was wondering if you wanted to come over for dinner tonight. It would be my way of thanking you for coming with me today. Don’t feel obligated if you’re busy.” Jessie spoke fast, trying to get the words out as she felt nervous. Why was she all of a sudden nervous around Billy? He was the same man she has known her entire life.

Billy stepped closer to her and lifted his hand, tucking the stray hair behind her ear gently. When she sucked in a breath from his touch he smiled. “I would love nothing more than to come over for dinner.”

Jessie let her breath out and beamed back at him. “Come over anytime after 5 pm. Dinner will be ready after 6 pm.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Billy watched as Jessie returned to her truck safely before he left. Finally, he could start working on getting the future with her that he always deserved. 

Billy showed up on time at Jessie’s place that evening. His brown eyes took in her glowing form in a pretty sundress that hugged her hips, breasts, and baby bump perfectly. In his mind, she was wearing it just for him.  “You’re absolutely stunning sweetheart,” he said, while handing her an arrangement of wildflowers.

She brought the flowers to her nose and inhaled the scent. “Thank you, this is sweet. Come on, dinner is almost ready. I made homemade lasagna and pie for dessert.” Jessie grabbed a glass vase and placed the flowers in them and brought them over to set on the dining room table.

“Smells delicious.” He sniffed the air and lightly moaned in satisfaction from the smell. Jessie couldn’t help but blush from his reaction. It’s been a while since someone complimented her cooking.

The night rolled on and was perfect from dinner to small talk. Billy was right, it really was delicious and with her cooking, he swore he would never eat again. He had asked about the baby and things that she would eventually need. Little did she know he was taking inventory so he could help her out. What a helpful friend he would be if he started offering his services to her. To not scare her he would have to start small and go from there. She will eventually make the perfect little housewife for him. Oh, he would do the right thing by her by marrying her and taking this baby as his own. But then he would want her round and pregnant with his own child. They would be the perfect family in this town and if anyone would look at her sideways then they would have to deal with him. This was his town and no one would cross him ever again.

After dessert he noticed her starting to get tired, Jessie was laying back against the couch and lightly caressing her belly. The moment was so beautiful that he decided to go home before he tainted it. He placed a soft kiss on her cheek and thanked her again for the meal. Leaving her house was hard for him but he knew this was the start of something between them.

Slowly over the next five months, Jessie and Billy formed a close friendship. One that she realized she had missed immensely. They each took turns cooking for one another, Jessie loved that he was a talented home cook. Billy was giving Jessie something that she thought she lost with Steve, a life again. Both Billy and Jessie looked forward to seeing each other every day whether it be him visiting the diner while she worked or their normal dinners together. Though once Jessie started Lamaze classes it threw their nights off temporarily.

One evening after work Jessie was waiting for Nat to bring her to Lamaze classes, but unfortunately, Nat had to stay late at the garage due to an issue with a deputy's car. Billy just so happened to be finishing up dinner when he heard the dilemma. It was then that he offered to go with her, despite her protest of it being boring. Thankfully, he persuaded her to let him attend with her. That’s how she found herself every week now going to classes with him. Not that Nat was a bad support system but something about going with a man helped her relax more.

Lamaze classes eventually made their way into official small dates. This was the first time since Steve broke her heart that she felt needed. Maybe it was the hormones but she loved Billy coming over all the time especially now that he is putting together the furniture she needed for the baby's room. There was something about Billy working in a tank top, his muscular arms on display, as he screwed two pieces of wood together to make the frame of the crib. Jessie caught herself licking her lips at times when she watched him. Once again she blamed it on hormones. As she left the room Billy watched her leave and he couldn’t help but grin to himself. He knew the effect he was having on her and he would continue to play up to it.

By the time she knew it, Jessie was nine months pregnant. Everything was now hurting, nothing made her comfortable and Jessie just couldn’t work as much. But by then it was okay as the diner was now back to normal thanks to Billy and his announcement months earlier. They had everyone in town packing the diner, especially during lunch and dinner services. Winnie had even thanked the good Sheriff for saving the family diner.

Billy was now spending every day with Jessie and helping her get the final touches done to the baby room. Jessie had everything she needed for the baby thanks to the baby shower thrown for her a week earlier and plus Billy still kept buying small things even when she told him not to. Winnie was happy to see Jessie smiling once again even if it was without Steve. Though the biker club was considerate to Jessie they just didn’t trust the Sheriff deep down inside and did whatever they could to avoid him.

One afternoon while she was at her ma’s place Jessie had finally gone into labor. Winnie whisked her daughter off to the hospital and called Billy, even though her ma insisted he wouldn’t want to be there for the birth. But she was wrong as Billy pushed his way to her room as if he were the father-to-be. Once Billy was by Jessie’s side he never left until finally, the baby made his way into the world.

Little Benjamin Grant Rogers was born weighing 7lbs 10oz and 18 inches long. He had soft patches of blonde hair on his head and bright blue eyes. His cry filled the room and brought tears to Jessie’s eyes.

When the doctors cleaned her up Billy walked over with Ben in his arms. The little boy was softly cooing in the larger man’s arms. The sight before her both made her happy and broke her heart. This should have been Steve holding his son but instead, it was Billy who she was slowly falling in love with. Maybe she didn’t need Steve to make everything perfect, maybe finding someone when you least expected it was what she needed.

Billy sat next to Jessie and placed Ben in her arms. He looked down at the woman he loved and Ben and kissed both their foreheads gently. Unbeknownst to the three of them, Winnie had taken a photo of them on her phone. This may not have been her first choice for Jessie but she definitely approves of Billy now.

Chapter 13

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#@saiyanprincessswanie #chrome & leather #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #billy russo #steve rogers #billy russo x ofc #billy russo x original female character #biker au #biker steve rogers #marvel au #marvel fanfiction

[mcupov00]

New Series

New story up now on Wattpad and AO3: https://www.wattpad.com/story/354587827-leather-ink-obsession-bucky-barnes-biker-au

Very excited for this one! Gotta love a bit of a dark biker Bucky Barnes

#smut bucky #bucky barnes #bikerbucky #bucky #james buchanan barnes #marvel #wattpad story #wattpad #biker au #au #fanfiction #fanfic #avengers

[rookthorne]

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐀 𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐡

You hadn't been convinced by the vicious rumours circling through the town of the local motorcycle club.

Surely the club wasn't as ominous as the townsfolk thought, right?

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ✰ Biker!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ✰ 1.9k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ✰ Fluff ჻჻჻ TROPES: Meet Cute

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 ✰ My first ever oneshot! ✰ See end note for the original moodboard — thank hard work and practice for improvement!

𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

The hustle and bustle of the cafe was like a soothing melody to your ears as you sat in your favourite spot on the patio. You had only recently discovered the shop, but sitting here in this padded chair beside the arched window, drinking your coffee while the sun beat down on you, had become your favourite pastime. You were quick to make friends with the feisty owner, Carol - her fiery sense of humour and quick wit melding seamlessly with your own.

Marvel cafe was a cosy spot. The warm tones and inviting rustic vibe was a magnet for any aspiring writer or artist, the blue accents instilling in the patrons a sense of calm and inspiration. It also helped that they had the best coffee in the small town you now called home. It was across the street from a playground, where a group of kids were spinning themselves mercilessly and screaming with laughter when one of them fell over.

It was a quiet day at the cafe, with much fewer patrons than you were used to seeing in the late morning rush. But that suited you just fine - it meant more peace and quiet for you to work on your current project.

You had just pulled out your laptop to begin working after taking a long gulp of warm coffee when the kids abruptly quietened, the absence of their glee startling. That’s when you heard the low rumble of engines starting from down the road. The lot of them scrambled to the edge of the playground and watched as several bikes passed by; the riders waved at them as their leather kuttes blew in the wind. 

On your very first day in this town, an old lady in the grocery checkout line next to you called this group of bikers a bad omen. You had watched with fascination as they passed you by numerous times in the street, the uniformed formation of their bikes only exerting a sense of power, an unmatched sense of pride and belonging in a town that only spoke ill of them. In the weeks that followed, you heard story after story of how the delinquents caused absolute chaos throughout the town. Despite the rumours, the curiosity you felt for the men clad in leather and combat boots was only matched by the children currently jumping up and down whilst staring at their bikes. 

You watched as the rider in front pulled to the side and slowed down, signalling to the others to keep going. The dull roar of the engine rumbled down to a purr as the man turned and rode back. The sleek frame and polished chrome of his motorcycle was a beacon to your inquisitive gaze - you recognized it as an Indian.

“That’s Bucky.”

The sudden voice to your side made you jump. Looking up quickly, you found Carol smiling down at you. She winked and heat flared in your cheeks at the realisation she had caught you staring. 

“He’s not as bad as the town makes him out to be. You should go talk to him.”

“Carol!” you spluttered, shocked that your friend would even consider playing matchmaker at a time like this. She knew you were in the middle of an important project, and you could not afford distractions. “No! I’m perfectly content sitting here and observing, thank you very much.” You began to fidget with the now empty mug, the smooth porcelain a much welcome distraction from the situation at hand. You held her gaze and narrowed your eyes in disdain. “Don’t you have customers to serve?”

Carol hummed as she looked back to Bucky, the glint in her eyes only spelling out disaster for you. Oh no.

“Don’t even think about it,” you chided, panic brewing in your chest.

Carol gave you a playful, pitious look and shrugged. She placed the fresh cup of brew on your table and walked back inside. With a sigh of relief you turned back to your laptop, determined to continue working. You had a deadline coming up, after all.

But a certain handsome man pulled your focus yet again, the urge to sneak glances at his leather-clad figure winning over your common sense.

He had pushed his bike alongside the curb and sat back down into the seat, gesturing to the handlebars whilst looking at the children. The kids’ natural curiosity overrode any sense of caution for the tales they had been told of the group of bikers that often rode by in a group. He smiled at them when they ran forward, their small figures bouncing in glee on the footpath - and his smile was gorgeous. Stop it!

He turned to the tallest of the three children and spoke.

“Wanna rev it, kid?” 

The low timbre of his voice made it a thousand times harder to turn back to your work.

Hearing the child squeal with joy and run to the bike made you smile. The kid’s body was almost vibrating with delight as his small hand reached forward to grip the throttle.

“Turn it,” Bucky guided softly. The smile on his face only encouraged the kid, who twisted it and immediately jumped back at the roar of the engine. “That’s it!” He called, ruffling the kid’s hair.

He gestured to the other two kids waiting not-so-patiently, and they bounded forward. One of them was a small girl, no older than six or seven. You observed Bucky as he looked at the kid’s mother - her figure clad in a leather jacket with studs, she wasn’t all that different from him. Bucky said something and the mother grinned, nodding excitedly, and pulled her phone from her pocket for photos.

Bucky let the other young boy rev his bike and then reached down to pick the girl up and place her on his lap, guiding her tiny hand to the throttle and helping her grip and turn it. Her laugh was infectious, and you couldn’t help but let out a laugh of your own.

Bucky’s head snapped up in response and your guts twisted with nerves - dammit.

You couldn’t help but stare at him - his smile was so wide, it made his nose scrunch and his sunglasses to move. His dark hair flowed out from under his helmet, the flyaway strands falling over his ears and face. The kutte collar was folded to show a small embroidered rifle and the red star adorning his back was almost as eye-catching as his smile.

Only managing a small smile in return, you hastily bent over your table, desperate to appear busy and not just like a creep watching from the other side of the road. The children's laughter died down as they ran back to the playground, shouting about how the man had let them rev his bike. 

“That was so cool!” The tallest of the three bragged as he jumped straight back onto a swing, the grin on his face only telling of the pure joy and excitement he felt.

The bike choked as Bucky turned it off and a small clatter of fibreglass being set down on the metal of the fuel tank caught your attention, but you refused to look up. You tried to ignore the feeling of eyes observing you as footsteps approached. Oh god, help me.

“Ah, Bucky! Good to see you!”

You cursed Carol in your head as you sent a sharp glare her way, of which she pointedly ignored. 

“Hey, Carol!” His voice was right beside you, making you jump. “Kids, right?”

Carol and Bucky shared a laugh, and all you wanted was the earth to open up and swallow you whole. But today was not your lucky day. 

You looked up from your pointed stare at your laptop to his face, his towering height dwarfing you in the chair. He smiled down at you and threw you a wink.

“Saw you watchin’ me, doll. You want a turn, too?”

Your heart leapt into your throat, thankfully stopping the squeak of excitement that threatened to burst free - the thought of sitting behind, and holding Bucky making you feel faint. God, what did I do to deserve this?

“Oh, Bucky, she’s been dying to - take her for a spin!”

Oh, you were going to kill Carol.

“C’mon, doll. I got you.”

He reached out his gloved hand and you hesitated. Were you really going to do this?

Carol quietly shuffled beside you and shoved you out of your seat with an innocent smile. Bucky laughed, grabbing your hand in his as he led you across the road to his bike.

You felt as though you were gliding - the trepidation and thrill of actually following this handsome stranger made your feet blindly move of their own accord as they followed him. Your heart was hammering against your chest as you got closer to the bike. 

Bucky reached out to the fuel tank and grabbed his helmet, and then turned to face you. He gave you a cheeky grin before placing it on your head and fastening the straps.

“Ever ridden before, doll?”

“No,” you whispered, afraid your voice would betray what you were feeling - absolute terror blending with simmering excitement.

Bucky grinned and swung his leg over the bike, reaching back to pat the seat behind him. Taking a deep breath, you awkwardly climbed up behind him and gripped his shoulders for balance. You rested your feet where he directed and he started the engine, the deafening roar making you squeak quietly into his back as you gripped his shoulders tighter.

You nervously glanced up to see Carol watching from the other side of the road with your laptop in hand. The smirk on her face was both smug and knowing. You would have to either slap or hug her after this - you hadn’t yet decided.

Bucky looked over his shoulder at you, and you could barely hear him speak over the roar of the bike. 

“Put your arms around me.”

The shock of hearing him tell you what you’ve been wanting to do since first seeing him made you foolishly hesitate.  Did you really hear him right?

Bucky looked over his shoulder with a raised brow. You quickly wrapped your arms around his waist and gripped tight, the vibration of the bike shaking you to the bone. A laugh rumbled through his chest and you swore you heard him say something along the lines of good girl, but you weren’t sure.

“Hold on, sweetheart.” Bucky revved the bike and pulled away from the curb, leaving your insides behind. 

You almost screamed as the bike took off, your frame shaking from fear as he sped down the street. The surprising grip of his hand over yours after a particularly hard squeeze to his middle through a small turn soothed your nerves. You took a deep breath, forcing your heart back down into your chest as you moved your face from the leather of his back to peer over his shoulder.

The buildings flew by as he accelerated, the main street coming to an end and leading you onto the backstreets. You began to laugh, shock and exhilaration making your mind fuzzy as the wind whipped your hair back.

Bucky rode on, the side streets empty of any traffic as he redlined the bike to make it roar, your squeal of laughter egging him on. You squeezed his middle tighter as you rested your chin on his shoulder, content to feel the wind blowing away all of your fear and worries - you had never felt more free. 

Maybe it was your lucky day, after all. You would definitely have to hug Carol after this.

Who knew such a leap of faith could help you feel so alive?

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑  ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

For old times sake, here is the original moodboard I made for this fic:

#bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #marvel imagine #biker au #alternate universe #a leap of faith #ALOF #rookthorne’s works

[mrs-barnes-rogers-writes]

Sometimes Your Soul Family Is The Only Family You Need - Part 2

Marvel AU

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader x Steve Rogers

Summary: 18 months ago you were a mess but with the help of your close friends you start to rebuild your life. Your soul friendships maybe chaotic but they're your family, just as you're theirs. With one of them about to have a baby, you and your misfit friends are here to visit. But will you stay? And what will the small town think of you having two soulmates and why do you keep finding yourself in the same place as a bunch of hot bikers.

"Sometimes families are assholes, sometimes your soul connections mean far more than family ever can. Sometimes your soul family is the only family you need." - Nurse Maggie

Chapter Warning: Premature labour mentioned, mention of miscarriage

Chapter Summary: The reader and Ryan arrive and the fluttering in readers chest is nothing right? RIGHT???

Your ass was well and truly numb, and Ryan had possibly napped more than he ever had. You glanced over at him in the passenger seat. Passenger Princess.

Ryan had come into your life at a time you needed him most. You'd left home, quickly after your soul letters had appeared. They weren't your standard letters though. You had two lots of letters on your wrist and to say your family was shocked was an understatement.

Your Dad had immediately branded you a whore and made it clear you weren't welcome in the house anymore. Your siblings, all older and already with homes of their own, either shrugged or pointed out it WAS his house.

A very emotional phone call between you and an old school friend, had led you to pack a case and grab your passport. Days later you were in Spain working the season at a fancy hotel.

You and Ryan had started on the same day. Both of you escaping home. You for apparently being a whore and him for being gay. You were allocated a small one bed apartment to share and a friendship was formed. After an issue with accommodation, and more people joining the season, you were joined by Annemarie, Darcy and Wanda. The snap of being soul friends happened the moment they stepped into the apartment.

Over the next few weeks you would all begin to come back together, as Annemarie welcomed her baby. It was sooner than it should be and the knots in your stomach had meant you'd not ate all day. You were probably the most worried you'd ever been. You didn't want her to go through what you had. She was much further along in her pregnancy and it would make it hundreds time worse.

Your baby, a boy you'd thought, would have been..............STOP. Stop it right now, you told yourself as the lump formed in your throat and a tear ran down your face.

You spotted a sign for Brook Town and placed your hand on Ryan's leg and tapped lightly.

"Ry, Ry, Ryyyyyyyyyyyyyy"

"Urghhhhhhhhhhhh, this better be good"

"Were almost there."

"Oh. Babe did we even stop?"

You shook your head.

"Y/N! You should have taken a break!"

"It's fine. I just want to get there. I don't want her to be on her own."

Ryan's heart sinks when he realises. This isn't just about getting to your best friend quickly, it's that she has someone with her.

"Babe, she's not on her own. Daniel is there."

"I know, I know. You know what I mean." she reply glancing over at him, and he knows immediately what you mean. He still thinks of you in that hospital bed. How you looked so alone when he'd arrived, even when your Mum had decided to make an appearance.

He squeezed your arm and leaned over planting a kiss on your cheek.

"I know, I know."

"She only has him right now."

"I know and he probably needs us too. His family are still on vacation right?"

"I think so." you replied as you're mind started to wander again, Ryan squeezed your arm again. You smiled at him and pushed your intrusive thoughts back.

"So the pie shop and then the hospital right?"

"Yep" Ryan replied, pointing to the row of stores as you approached it "it's the second one along."

You parked immediately in front of the store, the evening setting in meaning it was a quiet time for shoppers. The store was open for another fifteen minutes but that didn't stop Ryan rushing in.

"I'll go in, you take a break, hopefully they haven't sold the pregnant lady's pie."

You snorted with laughter as he dashed in, deciding stretching your legs was a good idea. Your legs cramped up as you tried and you groaned loudly as you got out.

"Fuck me."

You heard a snort of laughter and looked around to find a set of piercing blue grey eyes looking at you. And there it was the fluttering in your chest.

#avengers au #steve rogers #bucky barnes #avengers #avengers biker au #biker au #marvel au #marvel fanfiction #steve rodgers x reader #bucky barnes x reader x steve rogers #bucky barnes x reader #soulmates #soulmate au