#biker!Steve x reader

[nastybuckybarnes]

Hold My Beer

Pairing: Brief Rumlow X Reader, Biker!Bucky X Reader

Summary: Your old best friend is tired of seeing you in the arms of another. Especially one who doesn’t treat you right. So he’s gonna do something about that.

Warnings: Language, violence (minor), infidelity, breaking up, allusions to smut, biker!bucky,

Word Count: 1.1k

A/n: 100% inspired by the Aaron Pritchett song lol. This is kinda short but it’s something I wanna just kinda toss into the void lol. I do think I’ll be writing more for this particular AU!Bucky in the future, I’m just waiting for some inspiration to strike.

Kinda short so no tags lol my bad. Love you all so much❤️❤️❤️

~*~

Steel blue eyes are zeroed in on a couple by the bar.

His focus is on the man. 

More specifically, the way he’s practically ignoring the beautiful woman by his side. 

“You good, Buck?” Steve asks from beside him, nudging his friend lightly with his elbow. 

The brunet hums, his brows drawing together as he watches the man at the bar ogle different woman, while his girl sits with a frown on her pretty face. 

“Yeah, m’fine. I just... gimme one second,” he murmurs, pushing to his feet and walking away from his booth, beer still held tightly in his grasp. 

The blond watches his friend as he approaches the couple at the bar, beyond confused. 

This particular couple has been in the brunet’s bar a couple times, the man causing trouble more often than not, and it’s no secret that he’s less than faithful to his woman. 

To you.

You sit beside your boyfriend, brows pulled together as you watch him eye a woman across the bar. 

It hurts your pride to have him do this in front of you, but he’s already had a few drinks and you know better than to try and argue with him when he’s been drinking. 

“Hey, could you hold my beer for a sec, buddy?” A voice asks. 

You blink yourself out of your thoughts and look up at the man standing before yourself and Brock, brows rising to your hairline. 

None other than Bucky Barnes stands before you.

Solid six feet and five inches of thick muscle towers over your boyfriend, and you can’t help the grin that threatens to pull at your lips.

Brock’s always hated Bucky, and you can’t really blame him.

Your bestfriend-turned stranger is attractive enough to get a nun to sin, and he’s never been shy when it comes to flirting with you. Especially after seeing you cry over the piece of shit sitting next to you.

Bucky’s hatred for Brock Rumlow isn’t hidden at all, and he doesn’t care who knows. You’re too good a woman to be treated the way he treats you, and Bucky’s determined to make you realize that.

He's got a tame beard covering the lower half of his face and his eyes are the warmest icy blue you’ve ever seen, mischief glowing in them. Light freckles dust across his cheeks like stars in the night sky, and his lips are pink and plump. 

You follow his gaze to your boyfriend, and Brock looks just as confused as you feel. 

“I uh... why? What do you want?” He asks while slowly reaching out to hold Bucky’s beer. 

“’Cause your woman needs a kiss, and a boy like you ain’t gonna satisfy her.” With that, Bucky leans in and presses his lips against yours.

He’s kissed you many times before, and you’ve always brushed it off as him being a touchy friend, though you know it’s more than that.

And this is proof.

Because this isn’t a kiss you give your friend.

You sit still for a long moment, shock freezing you before you peck Bucky back and tug away, terrified at what Brock’s reaction’s going to be and warm inside at the intense feeling of Bucky’s lips on yours. 

“What the fuck is the matter with you?!” Brock shouts, moving to hop off the barstool only to be held in place by one of Bucky’s thick tattooed arms. 

He shoves the smaller man back in his seat and levels him with a glare. 

“You’d better not drop my fuckin’ beer,” he whispers dangerously, his true biker roots coming out on display. 

Brock grinds his teeth together and turns his steely glare on you. 

“You see? You ask why I hate when you would see him! It's cause I know you’re a slut who can’t control herself.”

His words bite a little, but they don’t hurt nearly as much as Bucky’s fist connecting with his face. 

The bar goes quiet as Brock grabs at his nose, glaring at the biker. 

“See, you’ve made a few mistakes here tonight. The first was showing your face. The second, was not paying enough attention to your girl. The third, was disrespecting your girl when she deserves the world. And the fourth...” Bucky leans down, his eyes hard and full of hatred, “you spilled my beer.”

You’ve been with Brock Rumlow for an embarrassing amount of time, and never  have you ever seen him look so tiny and terrified. 

“Now, you’re gonna hold my beer and watch my jacket while I take your girl up dancing, and then you’re gonna head on home and you’re gonna clear your shit outta her apartment, you’re gonna delete yourself from her life, and you’re never gonna even think about going near her again, or else it’ll be me you’re dealing with, got it?”

Brock opens his mouth to snark back, but a glance around the bar at all the bikers wearing jackets that match Bucky's has him keeping his mouth shut.

“Alright, good talk. Thanks man!” Bucky calls, grabbing your hand and tugging you off of your stool.

You stumble after him, still in shock at the exchange that just occurred.

“Buck, what the Hell was that?!” You demand, flattening your palms against his chest when he pulls you against him. 

“I’ve sat and watched that prick treat you like garbage for two and a half years, (Y/n). I’m not doing it anymore. You deserve so much better and I'm tired of pretending that I’m okay seeing you with him.”

You blink up at him in shock and shake your head, “Bucky, you can’t just end my relationship like that. Brock and I need to talk about things.” 

He scoffs and wraps his arms around your waist, tugging you closer and kissing your forehead. 

“I just did, sweetheart. You’re gonna come to my place tonight, we’re gonna talk and drink and maybe get a little... friendly, just like we used to, and then tomorrow I’m gonna bring you back to your apartment and if that asshole hasn't cleaned all of his shit out, there’s gonna be Hell to pay.”

You take a deep breath and look over your shoulder to where Brock is sitting. Steve’s by his side, arms crossed over his chest and a grin on his handsome face when he catches your gaze. 

“C’mon, baby. You gonna dance with me like we used to or do you wanna go straight to my place and have me bend you over the counter and eat that pretty pussy like the good old days?”

A shiver races down your spine, shaking the guilt from your stomach as you look up into his ever-blue eyes. 

“I... we can go to your place,” you whisper, smiling shyly when he grins triumphantly. 

He leans down and presses a soft kiss to your lips while one of his hands trails down to your ass, grabbing a handful of it then letting go only to smack it roughly. 

“That’s my girl.”

[itiswormtimebaby]

Content

Steve is thankful for what you have, but knows it could be so much better, so much more.

Pairing: Biker!Steve x Apple (fem!reader)

CW: Masturbation, mature language 

The Three Legged Lizard was a proud fixture in the heart of the city, a Mom and Pop diner that had been around long enough for the owners to be four or five Ma’s and Pa’s removed from the originals. Despite being of no blood relation, the current Ma, Miss Martha, truly did treat you like family; and while it wasn’t the type of place you’d dreamed of working when you were younger, back when your aspirations wouldn’t have even fit through the door, it was hard to imagine leaving it for anything else. No, you’d grown fond of the other staff, Miss Martha was extremely understanding of your circumstance and schedule, and there were a handful of regulars you’d be hard pressed to say goodbye to. However there was one rather large drawback to working at the Three Legged Lizard, mid-day week shifts were brutal in their boredom and, as someone who didn’t work nights or weekends, they were all yours. There was only so much time you could spend with your nose in a recipe book, playing cards with Tori, or wiping down the same few tables. Perhaps that was why you’d been so willing to indulge Steve Rogers affections, well, that and those beautiful blue eyes. 

Even if his appearance hadn’t been so striking you would’ve remembered him, the man never deviated from his order; two slices of apple pie and a black coffee. It was unusual for even the most loyal of regulars to not switch it up at least occasionally, but he never did. While he always seemed to be in a bit of a pensive mood he was never rude and you’d quickly written it off as the byproduct of a long day, you were having plenty of those yourself. Despite how often he came in the flirtation started off rather slowly, lingering looks turned to small talk, small talk turned to a few indulgent brushes of fingers across the others’ hand or arm, a kiss on the cheek…

Months passed that way, the blonde biker worming his way into your thoughts even outside of work hours, turning from a midday companion to a late night fantasy. Pulling out your well hidden toys to try and pick the hunk of silicone that would best replicate the feel of him, pretending dark purple was soft pink flesh; you didn’t need to see it to know that man had a beautiful cock. Last week you’d left the diner at the same time, stopping to get a closer look at his bike before he walked you around back to your car. You’d spent the evening on your dryer, pretending that the heat and vibrations were the result of a different motor, rubbing your cunt against a pair of old pleather leggings in a bid to recreate the texture of his bike’s seat. You’d cum with a gasp of his name, and it only cost you having to avoid his eyes for the rest of the week. You were content to leave things as they were, each encounter giving you more fodder for delicious scenarios in which he bent you over tables, counters, his bike, hell even the dryer. Where you depleted your favorite thrusters charge trying to replicate the peak you knew he could drop you off of, where you rubbed your clit raw to the thought of his mouth, blue eyes peeking up at your from between slick drenched thighs. Yes, you could have your moments and your fantasy, you could keep everything compartmentalized. You were excelling at it as a matter of fact, then he had to go and open his mouth. 

“I’m taking you out.” His eyes were bright, as was his easy grin. He didn’t seem to be asking, rather telling, and though your heart rate spiked at the mere thought, a soft fluttering of butterflies in your stomach finding the command immensely satisfying, you played it off. 

“Oh you are, are you? And if I say I have a boyfriend?” Steve’s eyes widened a nearly imperceptible amount, the thought clearly hadn’t crossed his mind; in all fairness over the months of getting to know each other you’d never brought it up. Even so he was being ofaly bold. 

One eyebrow arched upward in challenge; “Is that what you’re telling me? Because if so I’d say he’s an idiot for not marrying you yet.”  Steve reached out and gently tapped the second finger on your left hand where it rested on the counter between you. “No ring, so either no boyfriend, or a stupid one, and I’m not afraid to fight stupid.” 

You allowed your gazes to lock for a moment before releasing eye contact with a gentle shake of your head; “Something tells me you’re not afraid to fight anything, Steve Rogers. But at any rate…no, no ring, said Idiot,” you used quotations to accentuate his choice of words, “took it in the divorce.” This time it was clear by the increased amount of white that surrounded his iris that he was caught off guard, but he didn’t let it slow his stride. 

“Idiot may be putting it too kindly, then. Either way we’re back to the original point- go out with me?” This time it was phrased like a question, one you were desperate to say yes too, body and mind locked up and screaming YES. YES. YES. Instead you shook your head with a small, sad smile, his name rolling off your tongue in a honeyed tone, one meant to disarm. “Steve…” 

Sure he was taking the news you’d been divorced surprisingly in stride, and maybe if that was the most complicated part of your life you’d be ready to move forward but it wasn’t. You steadied yourself to deliver the final blow, his downturned lips pulling at your heartstrings. No was enough of an answer, a full sentence, but he deserved more than that, you couldn’t have him walk away thinking he’d been reading too much into a one-sided connection. It wasn’t fair. 

Struggling with how to say it you finally went with; “Do you know why I’m so good at making apple pie?” You didn’t pause for an answer, not expecting one with how puzzled his expression betrayed him to be, “It’s because it’s my son’s favorite and I’ve had seven years to perfect it.” 

Steve’s expression morphed into one of complete neutrality, waiting for you to continue. 

“I’m not sure if that’s a deal breaker for you but-” 

Words clashed as you both spoke at the same time “It’s not-” “-but even if it were,” He gestured for you to continue. “Even if it were I can’t, he’s my number one priority, and he needs stability and I can’t risk…” With a guilty expression you gesture at the leather kutte on Steve’s back, not needing to finish your sentence; I can’t risk whatever liabilities come with getting entangled in the life of a tatted up active member of a motorcycle club that doesn’t have the best reputation.

“I don’t doubt you’re a good guy, Steve, and I can’t apologize enough for how selfish I’ve been. It must seem like I’ve led you on, and I suppose I have-”

He cuts you off with a soft but firm no, refuting your words. “Apple, Honey, you don’t owe me a damn thing. You never promised me anything, I never expected anything. But I’m not going to walk it back now and pretend I’m not interested because I am.” 

“If it were just me, well I’d…that is to say, I was, am, interested. This has been great here, you coming in, getting to know you. But I don’t know what this,” you wave a hand between you “looks like outside of here and I can’t risk finding out.” 

Steve nods thoughtfully at your words, you were something special, the two of you could be too, and your little boy…but he knew he couldn’t say any of that, couldn’t rock the boat more than his big mouth already had. “Then don’t,” he finally says instead, “just keep giving me this.”  This being your company at the diner, your easy touches and conversations over pie, your conspiratorial laughs and inside jokes. 

The damned butterflies are back in your stomach, frantically working upwards, a foolish bloom of hope rooting in your chest at his words; “Okay,” you finally respond, voice barely above a whisper. 

Steve leaves shortly after, mind buzzing at your revelations. They didn’t change anything of course, but if he had known to begin with he would’ve altered his approach. The purr of his bike’s engine, a soothing sound on any other day, agitates him as he thinks back to the way you’d gestured at his cut. The club. You were worried about the club.  He’d have to find a way to make you see they were a family, a dysfunctional one at times but family none-the-less, you didn’t need to worry about the rest, that bond, the support it offered, made up for the rest. He weaves in and out of traffic as he speeds across town, knowing exactly where to find the two people he needed most in that moment. 

He doesn’t bother knocking, using his spare key to unlock his sister, Bug’s, door. Just as he suspected he would, he finds both her and his best friend, Bucky, inside. The latter is on the floor, back to the couch seated between Bug’s spread knees, leaning into her touch as she plays with his hair. “Hey!” The girl admonishes, “Knock next time! We could’ve been-”

“Don’t,” Steve calls out, “Finish that sentence.” Something in his expression must appeal to her because she lets it drop, asking him what’s wrong instead. Bucky is also looking at him inquisitively, waiting. Steve gives them the run down as quickly as he can, before finishing with, “but my affiliation with the club shouldn’t be a deal breaker, surely I can show her that, right?” 

Steve glances at his sister for reassurance, she was dating a biker after all, but instead of her normal bright smile he’s met with a guilty grimace. “Honestly speaking I can’t really say I blame her for being a bit…hesitant?” 

Steve scoffs, “Seriously? Isn’t that a little hypocritical?” He gestures towards the brunette who sits up a little straighter between her legs, narrowing his eyes at the blonde as he mouths “what the fuck?” out of Bug’s eyeline. 

“No, it’s not, the club, the bike, the late hours- it’s a lot even for me and our circumstances are wildly different. And besides, you don’t know what she might have already heard around town. Y’know, like if you notched your bedpost for every single man, woman, or other you’d bedded it'd be whittled to a toothpick?” 

The thought of that has him indignant, and worried, with your job it WAS entirely possible you’d heard all the towns gossip; he also felt rather offended, his bedpost wouldn’t be a toothpick, and so rather petulantly he grumbles “That’d be Buck’s, not mine.” This time his best friend doesn’t even both attempting to hide his ire, “What the fuck, Man?!” Steve barely spares a glance his way, and when he does it’s not his anger he takes in, it’s his smile. Bug had clearly just whispered something in his ear that has him lighting up, already moved past his irritation.

There was a sharp pang of longing in Steve’s chest at the sight, and he knew right then he would never be content with the routine you’d settled into together- he needed more.

[holylulusworld]

BC (4) - Even good girls sin

Summary: You meet two cocky men. Biker. How can you not fall for them?

Pairing: Biker!Steve Rogers x fem!Reader x Biker!Bucky Barnes

Warnings: cocky bikers, shameless flirting, mentions of Stucky, mentions of anal sex (mm/nothing happens), public fingering/touching, dirty talk,

A/N: I decided to turn this one into a collection of drabbles about Biker!Stucky and our reader.

16.666 followers ‘16 days of requests’ celebration

Biker Code masterlist

<< Part 3

Divider by @firefly-graphics​

“So, you and Steve are a thing? I mean, are you dating?” you ask. “Steve mentioned you have an open relationship. How does this work? I could never imagine sharing the man I love.”

“We had a fling here and there,” Bucky squeezes your knee under the table. “Steve and I always shared them, though. It was mostly sex. Once every few years we found someone to devour for a week or a month.”

“That’s what you want to do with me, right?” nervously glancing at Steve you try to hide your nervousness. “Devour me and drop me off at the next bus stop.”

“Oh no, baby doll,” Steve purrs. His hand becomes brave and creeps up your thigh and toward your clothed mound. “You are special. Bucky and I saw you a few weeks ago and knew you are going to become our girl.”

“You mean the third wheel in your relationship,” you snap at them. “I’m not stupid nor naïve. If you believe I’ll just get on your bike and let you do unspeakable things to me, you are dead wrong.”

“Unspeakable things,” Bucky grins. “Did ya hear that, Stevie? She believes we can do unspeakable things to her. I’m honored.”

You groan.

“Buck, I told you that you shouldn’t overwhelm her. We need to take things slow with her,” Steve slips his hand between your legs, and you don’t fight him. Not even when his index finger presses hard against your clit. “She’s wet…her panties are ruined.”

“What? I-“Shame fills you. Steve can feel your soaked panties and you can’t even lie to him. He can feel their influence on you as he cups your mound. “Oh-fuck.”

“Stevie, what are you…?” Bucky dips his head to glance under the table. He grunts as his boyfriend shamelessly cups your mound. “Punk, you just told me to take things slow. And here you are, touching her pussy.”

“Say, baby doll,” Steve leans closer to your chair to whisper in your ear. “Do you want to go home with your friends or,” he nips at your earlobe again, “do you want to come home with me and Bucky.”

“Even good girls sin, doll,” the brunette moves his hand a little higher to stroke your thigh. “If you come with us, we promise to fulfill your dirtiest desires.”

“What if my dirtiest fantasy is to cuddle with two men?” you grin. “No sex. No touching. Just curling up next to you to sleep.”

“Naughty,” the blonde laughs into your ear. “If you want to cuddle, we can give you that too. Bucky is like a cat. He loves to curl around you to cuddle you like a koala.”

“I’m cuddly, live with it.”

“You are insane, both of you,” you breathlessly say while rocking against Steve’s hand. He presses two fingers against your clit, helping you rub yourself against him. “Fuck.”

“She’s going to cum, Buck.”

“I bet she will make the cutest noises when she does. Just like you did when I had my way with your perfect ass for the first time,” Bucky growls as you grip his hand tightly. You whine, hoping for release as, to your dismay, Steve takes his hand away.

“No!”

“Baby doll, you should behave in public. You don’t want people to believe you are just like us, crazy and rotten.”

“Please…no,” you grab Steve’s hand to bring it back between your legs. “You can’t stop now. I was so close.”

“Stevie loves to edge you,” Bucky says knowingly. “He once edged me for three hours. I was about to combust. I can tell, he can be a devil hiding behind soft eyes.”

“You came all over me if I recall right.”

You whimper, drawing the men’s attention back toward you. “Can I…watch you?” you bite your index finger, chewing on it.

“Buck.”

Steve grins.

“Stevie.”

Bucky mirrors his boyfriend’s grin.

“I think we already broke her,” Steve wraps his arm around your shoulders. He pecks your cheek, laughing as you lean into his touch. “Don’t worry, doll. It will be our pleasure to fulfill all of your wishes."

>> Part 4

Tags in reblog.

[emberenchanted]

Little Elf

Pairing: Biker!Steve Rogers x Female Reader

Words: 2.9k+

Summary: The reader wanted to spread some hoeliday cheer by giving a gift. But what comes with that gift is something that she’s wanted all along 

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, explicit language, explicit content, smut, Anal (f receive), daddy kink, use of handcuffs, spanking, anal play, and aftercare.

A/N: It’s been forever since I’ve written anything and thanks to my sweet flower @maladaptivexxdaydreaming for gracing me with this wonderful request! My muse jumped at it like it owed it money! Anywho! I hope you all love it! Like, comment, & reblog! ♥

Divider by @firefly-graphics

I do not consent to my work being copied, plagiarized, or translated in any way >:P

You thought it would be a good idea to show him an early Christmas present. Even thought it would be cute to visit him at the clubhouse in an elf costume to hand deliver the gift yourself. 

What you didn’t think about was the consequences of your actions. 

The consequences being you bent over his desk, legs spread wide as both your wrists laid between your thighs with the pretty gift wrapped around them. Your pretty little elf skirt was long gone and the anticipation of what your Steve was going to do had your cunt glistening in the well-lit office. 

“My pretty little elf, what am I going to do with you?” he hums, standing erect as can be as she scanned his handiwork of you on his desk. His growing bulge concealed behind his jeans as he watched your pretty pussy become wetter by the second. 

If only you could see the look in his eyes as he looked you over, your eyesight thoroughly concealed by his favorite bandanna. But, you’ve seen that look more than once before. 

Whenever you decided to try him, that menacing, daring look he gave was all you needed to plead for your life. Even though, they would always fall on deaf ears, causing you to have a sore ass and a wrecked pussy the day after. 

You try to wiggle your way out of the position, only to yelp at the sharp sting of his hand as it landed on your soft cheeks, accompanied by a disapproving sound spilling from his lips. 

“Ah ah little elf, you brought daddy a gift. A gift that I plan on using over and over again.” 

A whimper falls from your lips, causing him to chuckle as you hear his footsteps become more prominent with each step he took. The excitement and nervousness confused you but, your body heating up only had one mission. 

Be good for daddy… we broke a rule

That rule you ask? It was a fairly simple one and when Steve found out that it was broken… He was confused. 

Confused because you looked so goddamn cute and delectable in your Elf outfit and pissed that someone could get a glimpse of his pussy with how short your skirt was. Way above your knees and almost short enough for everyone to see his initials permanently on your skin. 

Steve Rogers could be the sweetest man on Earth… to you anyway. But even he had to let his princess know when and where to not fuck with him. 

What better way to find out than today?

If it was bratty holiday cheer you wanted to spread, he was going to make sure he returned the favor. With perfect strides, he steps in front of you, lifting your chin up with one single finger as she bent down to nip at the skin of your lips, causing you to whimper softly for him. 

“What rule did we break baby? Should be easy to answer since there was nothing under that pretty skirt of yours,” you could just see the smirk on his lips. You knew it just by the sarcastic tone in his voice. 

And you hated it…

With your chin captured between his fingers, you bit your bottom lip, feeling it tremble as you started to speak, “I didn’t wear panties…”

“And why didn’t you, pretty elf?”

You were nervous, that was apparent. Yet, there was something in you that still wanted to test him. To see just how far you could push him until he had you a crying and sore mess. 

With a simple shrug or a shrug that you could do with the position you were in, you give him the prettiest smile that you could give him and say, “I guess I forgot daddy. You know you have to help your dumb baby with these thi-,” his hand wrapping around throat cut off whatever else you needed to say. 

His grip was firm but gentle as he rested his forehead against yours, the scent of his cologne wrapping around your nose as feel his warm breath on your face. 

“You’re my dumb baby, that’s a fact. But not that fucking dumb. Wanted to be cute and now look at you, princess. Dripping all over my desk, and my gift around your wrists,” the slow sucking of his bottom lip being tucked between his teeth, alerted you of just how fucked you really were. 

But, you were in too deep to start begging now. You poked the bear too much and now your ass was going to pay. Your breath was yours once more as you felt him leave the front of you, hearing his footsteps in the same area but now behind you. 

“Thought long and hard about what I should do, princess and I’m going to apologize to that tight hole of yours for what I’m about to do to it,” his voice gravelly as he moves closer to you, gripping the soft globes of your ass before letting go and smacking them both at the same time. 

A guttural moan escapes your throat at how deliciously painful the sting was to your skin, painful pins radiating through your scalp the moment Steve pulled your hair back and brought his hand back down to your skin again over and over.

“What? You want them to hear you too? Does my princess like being looked at? Heard by others?” he asks as she slides his hand over your throat again, squeezing even tighter, “I think I saw Ari with his eyes on you. Think he heard you just now?”

The grip on your throat caused for little words to spill out. But, you knew to answer or things would get much, much worse, “N-no daddy… No… AH!!” you shriek, feeling a harder slap on your other cheek. 

Steve pulls your hair taut, leaning your head against his shoulder as she licks a slow stripe up your cheek, “You’re lying, little slut. I know you better than you know yourself. And…” his voice lowers, slipping his hand from your throat, you feel his thick digits spread your drenched folds open, running them up and down.

“My pussy tells me a different story, don’t you my precious cum dump?”

It was all true, your body betrayed you every single time. Steve had the key and he knew how to please your pussy like no other person could. From your very first date, Steve had claimed you and your sweet pussy as his and you let him. 

Over and over and over again….

There was no denying him at this point. No reason to even put up a front to him. Whatever he had planned was going to happen no matter how hard you pleaded and besides…

You knew you could stop him whenever you said the magic word

The easy way out was not what you were looking for. You wanted Steve. Wanted to be his little fuck toy until he was tired and now was your chance. With a shaky breath, you let out a soft giggle, swiping your tongue over your bottom lip as you looked up at him, “Maybe daddy… Maybe Ari could fuck me better. Seems like you’ve lost your touch”

Silence…. Absolute silence.

Steve let out a low chuckle, the tick in his jaw apparent as he slowly let your hair go, “Oh princess… my sweet girl. I think you really are fucking dumb,” a low growl erupts from his lips, encasing you in his arms as she carefully takes you over to his sofa, dropping you down carefully. 

He positions you with your face to the cushion, ass up and your wrists nestled between your legs as he takes his spot behind you, his chuckle returning as she grips your ass cheeks tightly and letting them go. 

Your thighs were beyond drenched with slick, fresh droplets hanging from your lips as Steve admired you from behind. 

“It’s such a shame, pretty elf. You look so good like this. Too bad you had to be a fuckin’ brat,” he murmurs, slapping your ass again as you hear the jingle of his belt being loosened and the button of his jeans popping. You can hear the rustle of his jeans and briefs being pushed down the same time, anticipation lacing your body as you lay your head against the plush sofa. 

You sway your ass in the air, smirking before crying out as she lands another swat on your cheek, “Daddy please!”

Steve hums, sinking two fingers inside your drenched cunt as he pumps them slowly in and out of your soaked hole, “Oh we’re so done with manners baby. You wanted all my attention and now you have it,” coldness lacing his throat as he pumps his fingers inside you, hooking them expertly to bump against your spongy spot. 

Moans slip from your lips as you feel him stretch and scissor your slippery opening, coating his fingers in your slick as you fall deeper and deeper into pleasure. Your body heating up from how close he could push you to the end. 

“Oh… fuck, daddy. That’s so good, m’ so close” you whisper softly, feeling your cunt flutter and drip before he snatches his fingers from you. You whine protest, yelping when he slaps your ass again. 

He leans over your body, his cock, pressing against your opening as your eyes flutter closed, “Only good girls get to cum. Let’s see how nice I am after I wreck that pretty hole of yours,” smacking your ass again before sinking his cock into your wet channel, groaning when he feels you wrap around him. 

Steve curses under his breath, sinking in deeper as you let out a low groan, feeling every inch of him stretch you out, feeling him pulse inside of you. He leans back from your frame, spreading your cheeks apart and spitting on your puckered hole before slowly sinking his thumb inside and thrusts deeply into your tight pussy. 

He snaps his hips slowly, inching his thumb deeper into your ass, leaning his head back as he enjoys the warmth of you around him, “Why’d ya have to be a brat baby? Huh?” he grunts, sliding all the way out to the tip, and thrusting back in as she knocks the breath out of you. 

With each snap of his hips, Steve stretches you more and more, removing his thumb as you hear the pop of a top open and cold fluid drip over your tight hole. You try to move away, feeling both of his hands pull you back on his cock. 

Your mouth hangs open at the feel of every inch of him inside of you, trembling when you know what’s coming next. 

Steve wasted no time pulling from you, resting his cock between your soft cheeks. He grabs both globes in his hands, massaging them softly as she feels you relax for him, “That’s it my pretty elf, be good for me. Don’t wanna hurt you too bad,” he whispers, sliding his cock up and down between your cheeks, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth, closing his eyes slowly. 

You feel his cock harden fully, eyes widening under your blindfold at the damage you know he could do. Breathing deeply, you stay still, as he lines his cock up with your puckered hole, beginning to slowly push past the tight ring.

“Fuck… me” you groan out, clenching your hands closed as he sinks his thick cock further inside of you, feeling the stretch of every single inch, “Fuckfuckfuckkkkk, daddy”

“Goddammit princess, need to fuck this hole more often. Gripping me like a fucking vice” he grunts happily when he pushes every inch inside of you, “Look at that perfect ass. Swallowing my dick like a champ,” admiration in his tone as he squirts more lube on your hole. 

He throws down the bottle, gripping your hips as she pulls his hips back and sliding back in slowly to get you used to his size before slamming back in gripping you tightly.

 

“Holy fuck! I didn’t mean it, daddy! Ow!” 

Steve snaps his hips over and over, reaching down to rub circles over your clit as you begin to relax your tight ring around him, “Hm, I think you did baby. I think you wanted this. You wanted them to see what’s mine” he growls, changing the pace of his thrusts as he strokes you deeper, making you cry out in ecstasy. 

He reaches forward, gripping your hair in his hand as he pounds your ass, the loud sounds of slapping skin and the noises coming from your lips echoing against the walls. You squeeze around him tighter, feeling the pleasure bloom in your core from the double stimulation. 

“I just… wanted.. Fuck!” you whimper as his strokes become deeper and quicker. Juices dripping on his fingers as your mind goes blank.

“What was that pretty elf? Couldn’t hear you” he snaps his hips once making your cry out, “You were say dumb baby?” snapping his hips twice as you make the same noise again, “What’s the matter princess? Hm? Don’t tell you went dumb already” he coos, taking you squeezing around him as his answer before pounding you once more. 

You words were incoherent, save for the sounds don’t stop daddy. Just like that. As you say it over and over again. All that was left of you was a blissed out slut, taking every single inch that her daddy gave her. 

Wanted to get back on his good side was everything as he was showing you what happens when rules are broken. Steve couldn’t even be mad at you for acting out. He was busy beyond belief and there wasn’t anything else he would rather do than to be with you all day. 

In some way, right now, he was making up for it. But oh, he was more than willing to put you back where you belonged in the process. You’ve acted out before but not to this extent. Steve had to make sure that his lesson was well learned.

He placed his hand at the small of your back, making you arch more as he crossed his arms over your ass and pounded into you tight hole deeply, making you feel every single part of him. 

“Oh.. My… daddy… daddy” you whisper for only him to hear. Your head reaching into the clouds the higher he took you to pure bliss and pleasure.

Steve kept using you to his pleasure, keeping his pace just right as he could feel you squeezing him tighter and tighter, signaling the end coming near. He releases you from his grip, leaning over to tilt your head up with his hand as she strokes you deeply.

“Does my little elf wanna cum? Hm?” he asks, smiling when he sees you nod frantically, the act was all he needed to return him back to wrecking your ass. 

With precision, Steve kept your back arched with his hand keeping you pressed down, snapping his hips, as the clapping sound of skin centered back to what he was doing. He licked his other fingers, dropping them down as he rubbed quick tight circles around your clit, hearing you moan out softly. 

Spurts of slick dripped down into his palm as she brought it up to lick every single drop before returning his fingers back to your clit, “That’s my fucking girl. Cum for me little elf. Cum hard for daddy. Right. Now” he growls, while punctuating every syllable with the snap of his hips. 

You didn’t need to be told twice, the dam gushing out of your pulsating pussy was first before your mouth flew open, the most pornographic sounds spilling from them as orgasm after orgasm began to crash down on you. 

The splashing of your release quickly triggered his as he pushed deep inside of you, filling you tight hole with rope after rope of his cum. Steve held your hips, groaning loudly as she filled you, “Fuck! Goddamn, princess, keep cummin’ on my cock just like that,” Steve’s voice trembled as he emptied himself, pulling out and slamming back in as he filled you with another load.

The pulse of his cock only triggered another release for you, feeling yourself collapse on the couch as Steve followed you, kissing down your back slowly before pulling out and unlocking the handcuffs from your wrists. 

You try to move, only to be pushed down softly when you hear the clicking sound of a camera, tensing up automatically. 

Steve presses a kiss to your shoulder, before the sound happens again, “Just me, princess. Just taking a pic of art,” he murmurs, almost getting hard again at his cum leaking out of your ass. 

He hums, softly, taking you in his arms as he lays back on the couch with you on his lap. You rest your head on his shoulder, relaxing as she rubs aloe all over your cheeks, kissing your body all over as she takes care of you.

“Did so good for me, so fucking good,” he whispers, opening up a bottle of water and pressing it to your lips, giving a satisfied hum when you drink half the bottle before pushing it away.

Steve holds you tight, feeling the light breath on his neck as you lay on him, feeling completely satisfied. You feel his soft lips, press to your temple, making you snuggle close as she gives a soft chuckle.

“What did we learn baby?” 

The answer rings in your ear as you lean up to look into his eyes, smiling softly, “Never wear panties…”

[notsopersonalcharlie]

Don't Care, Belle

Biker!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader fluff

Summary: Bucky is capital J-Jealous

Warnings: A guy being overly nice at a bar, drinking at 1pm, nothing else I can think of

Notes: Short little thing I thought of when i was visiting home and witnessing my sister's boyfriend be jealous lol. I just love jealous Bucky sorry not sorry. More Biker!Bucky here

“Oh hey sweetheart, you look lonely over here.” You looked up from where you were engrossed in the book you’d left behind the bar for days just like this, the crew was too busy to talk and the regulars weren’t your favorite. The man wasn’t a regular, not horrible looking and was dressed alright. You were confident he had stopped by because his car was in the shop. The demographic that frequented the bar that was not the vibe that this man was giving off.

“Oh you know, just waiting for my order,” you supplied with a polite smile. He had plopped himself onto the bar stool beside you and raised a two finger salute to Bruce, who was the daytime bartender.

“Waiting for your car?” he asked, “Nice girls like you don’t usually come around here.” Your eyes narrowed, an eyebrow going up.

“I’m a regular. And you? Waiting for your car? Since I haven’t seen you around.” Bruce came over, giving you a look that said ‘if this guy is bothering you I’ll toss him out’ and you knew he would. Bruce “The Hulk” Banner was not exactly known for his polite way of answering rude customers. You shook your head. No need to alienate a customer just because he got a little friendly at a bar.

“What can I get you, man?”

“Whatever IPA you have and whatever the lady is having I’ll put on my tab.” Bruce grinned at that and you were near protesting. You never paid for a thing at the Howling Commando, but you knew Bruce and you knew he was putting your lunch right on this guy’s tab.

“Sure thing.” Bruce turned away.

“Must just have not been around on the same days as you.” You glanced around the bar. It was pretty empty today, but it was still early. Your bosses had required you to use some of your PTO before they had to pay you out for it, and you were truly more than happy to oblige a staycation. After another glance around, Bruce still keeping an eye on you out of the corner of your eye, you decided it would be entirely harmless to engage in conversation.

“Not sure. I’m here every day. Basically. You here getting your car fixed?” You asked again. He gave you another sleazy smile, this one reminiscent of your male coworkers who thought they could get any more than a polite smile or handshake at a work happy hour.

“Waiting for my car yeah. Only place this convenient to get a decent bite and drink while waiting for them to get done.” As if on queue, Bruce slid over your usual burger and sweet tea, and then an IPA for the guy.

“Closed tab?” Bruce asked, putting his hand out for the card. The guy did a suggestive look over at you.

“You know? Keep it open.” You rolled your eyes at your sandwich, slightly regretting that you had begun a conversation with this man, and took a bite. Some of the tomato juice dripped down your chin and you snapped at Bruce to get his attention.

“You’re going to learn one of these days,” he sighed, tossing you a stack of napkins. You chewed and swallowed and then gave him a grin as he walked back over.

“You keep saying that, but I never do.”

“Good luck…” he looked at the tab as he slid it under a cup in front of the man, “Colin… you’re going to need it.” You took a sip of your sweet tea, you knew he didn’t mean good luck with you, or at least not the primary part.

“So you’re really a regular regular huh?” Colin was eyeing you with near a frown as he took the first sip of his beer. The clock behind the bar read a quarter past one.

“Yeah, lots of friends who work here. Just not usually in during the day. Sounds like you’ve been here before?” You took another bite before he could pivot the questioning back to you.

“Yeah, I’ve been before. They did a shit job though…” He started to ramble but you were quickly uninterested when the side door opened and a sweaty, grease stained Bucky Barnes walked in, squinting at a ticket.

“Paulson? Fucking Yelena and her handwriting. This is fuc-oh!” It was almost comedic to see Bucky go from a serious, frowning massive man to the grinning, golden retriever man he became when he looked at you. Bucky attention had turned squarely on you as he walked over, the ticket partially crumpling in his hand as he tried to wipe them off before he got over to you. The grease stains on some of your clothes were impossible to get out just from his grabby hands.

“Paulson, that’s me.” Both you and Bucky turned to Colin, as if he had just returned to existence. Bucky’s eyes narrowed, and you could see them flicker across the length of the empty bar then back to where Colin had seated himself beside you. He knew it had to be him that sat beside you because not two hours gone, Bucky had come in for some water and to smack a kiss to your lips right where you sat now.

All concern for grease stains went right out the window.

Bucky came up behind you, reaching over your shoulder to take a few fries off your plate, the hand with the crumpled ticket going around the other side to hand it to Colin, effectively entrapping you between his arms and away from the guy.

“Your car’s done. You can settle it up in the office.” Colin stared at Bucky, who after handing him the paper, wrapped his arm around you and pressed your back to his chest, chomping on fries and reaching for your sweet tea.

“Did they make your burger good?” Bucky asked, “The new cook got specific instructions.” You elbowed him lightly.

“I don’t need everyone thinking I’m a control freak.” Bucky laughed, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“They know I’m the control freak.”

“I guess… I guess I’ll go get my car then. Nice to meet you.” Colin left his mostly full IPA on the table and forgot to pay his tab, near running out the front door.

“What was that guys problem?” Bucky asked jokingly, spinning your stool so you were facing him. You wrinkled your nose.

“You’re stinky.”

“I don’t think you care,” Bucky rumbled, leaning down to press a long warm kiss to your lips.

“His problem was I was getting ready to deck him,” Bruce said, setting down a pint of Bucky’s favorite on a coaster beside your food. He whisked away Colin’s drink and wiped down the watermark.

“What did he do?”

“Nothing,” Bruce responded before disappearing back towards the kitchen. Bucky plopped onto the stool beside you and waited for you to respond.

“He was just trying to chat me up. That’s all.” Bucky sipped his drink before taking a massive bite out of your burger.

“Hey! That’s mine! Smaller bite!”

“I’m just taste testing the new cook.” You bickered over your lunch as the rest of the garage crew began to filter in, a few of the regulars making their way through the front as well.

“Heyo! I heard someone was trying to flirt with-“ Bucky hit Steve in the arm, but Sam had already heard it from where he was clocking in behind the bar.

“Is he dead?” he yelled. The group devolved into ways that Bucky could have murdered this man. All of you failed to notice Colin walking in the front door, where he paused and stared at the group of massive, tattooed bikers calling out forms of torture that could have been inflicted on him. Sam saw him first.

“Oh hey man, what can I get you?” Everyone turned toward him and Bucky got to his feet immediately, having been the only one who could have identified him.

“Just-“ the man’s voice came out high and you suppressed a grin, already feeling a little bad for him. He cleared his throat, face red.

“Just the tab I left.” There was a quiet murmur of “ooooos” as the group dispersed, keeping an eye on you and Bucky.

"Sorry," you started, but Bucky shifted around the side of the bar, picking up Colin's card where it was sitting by the register. Policy was 20% on any leftover cards and Bruce had already closed it out with your meal on there.

"Here. Get lost." Bucky's expression had gone dark.

"Buck, he didn't know."

"Don't care." Colin took a few steps back.

"Man, I wasn't looking for trouble. I didn't know she was your girl, she was talking to me too."

"Do. Not. Care." Colin fled under the close watch of the bikers.

"You didn't have to do that," you sighed, rolling your eyes at the men around you, "You're going to lose a customer."

"Don't care," Bucky muttered, back by your side, "You're mine, honey. Don't care what anyone else says."

"I am yours. He was just being nice." Sam had started the music for the night, and it whafted through the speakers.

"Dance with me, belle?" You laughed.

"When have I ever said no to that? In fact, kill me if I ever do because its an evil clone trying to take over my life." He laughed, the sound more than enough music to your ears for dancing. Bucky wrapped an arm around you and smacked a kiss to your lips, taking your hand and whisking you off to the dance floor.

[delicatebarness]

cry baby | prologue

Summary: Meet The Avengers, the infamous friendship group. Known for causing trouble all around town, and being feared by all. Expect the youngest member of the group, she was different and she was protected.

Warning: Smoking. Alcohol. Crying.

Word Count: 1179

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A/N: The final results of the poll were 68.4% in favor of posting this now so here you go. I really hope I did this idea justice and you enjoy it! Please let me know what you think <3

Tags: buckys0whore |

The bar hummed with music, laughter, clinking glasses, and the occasional roar of a motorcycle outside. In the corner booth, among the haze of cigarette smoke and the dim glow of neon lights, sat a group of friends, claimed as The Avengers. 

Bucky Barnes leaned back in the booth, his eyes constantly scanning the room with a gaze as piercing as the edge of his knife. His presence commanded respect anywhere he went, without raising his voice. He was an enigma wrapped in leather.

A smirk played at the corner of his lips as he observed the scene at the bar. Your presence was a stark contrast to the rough ambiance of the bar. Dressed in a delicate flowing dress, out of place amidst the leather and tattoos, you were the embodiment of vulnerability in a world that praised itself on toughness. Your gaze darted nervously around the room as you waited for your drink. 

Bucky’s grip tightened around the beer bottle he had been nursing as he watched the bartender lean close to you. His jaw clenched with a quiet intensity, some instinct urged him to intervene, to protect you from whatever the guy was trying to do. But, before he could make a move he noticed Steve, your older brother and his best friend, standing closer to you. It was obvious from Steve’s expression and assertive stance that he was telling the bartender to step back.

Turning back his attention to the booth, he caught Natasha’s knowing smirk and Sam’s amused glance. They also had been watching the scene at the bar and offered small nods of approval toward Steve as you both made your way to the booth with the drinks. You were a tight-knit group, and there was an unspoken understanding that you would always protect one another. Mostly, it was you that they were protecting.

Your emotions began to bubble to the surface, tears threatened to spill over. The reasons for them, you were unsure of. Was it the presence of the new bartender? Perhaps Steve’s protective demeanor had caused them. Or maybe it was simply the atmosphere of smoke and dust. Regardless, as you settled back into the booth, the sight of Bucky’s eye-rolling toward you only worsened the urge to cry.

“Spill the beans, crybaby,” Bucky’s voice cut through the chatter of your friends around you. “What’s the verdict today? Tears of joy or sadness?” his tone dripping with sarcasm as he leaned forward.

Your cheeks flushed, and you tilted your head up hoping gravity will stop the tears from spilling. “I, I don’t know,” you mumbled softly, your voice barely audible over the noise of the bar.

As the night wore on, the bar grew increasingly rowdy and you found yourself retreating into the safety of your thoughts. No matter how hard you tried to hide your teary eyes, you couldn’t escape Bucky’s watchful gaze. 

~

As closing time drew near, there was a subtle shift that settled over the group, a silent acknowledgment that their night was coming to an end. With reluctant sighs, you began to gather your belongings. The rest of your friends picked up their packets of cigarettes and leather jackets, as you picked up your sketchbook and pencil. Preparing to leave the warmth of the bar for the cold embrace of the night, you begin to make your way to the exit. 

Bucky remained rooted in his spot in the booth, his gaze fixed on some unseen point around the bar. “Hey, Buck, you coming?” Steve called out, his voice tinged with concern as he glanced back at his friend. 

You could almost see the cogs working in his mind as he hesitated, clenching his jaw. “I think I’ll stay a bit longer,” he finally replied, his voice low. 

Wanda arched an eyebrow, confusion took over her features as Natasha spoke for you all, “Everything okay, Barnes?” she asked, her tone laced with curiosity. 

He offered you all a tight-lipped smile, a silent reassurance that didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah I’m fine,” he beamed at you all with an uncharacteristic glee. His gaze flickered over to you for a brief moment before returning to your friends. “I’ll catch up with you tomorrow,” 

With reluctant nods and murmured goodbyes, you and the rest of The Avengers made your way out of the bar, leaving Bucky alone. As the door swung shut behind you, Bucky let out a heavy sigh before making his way over to the bar.

~

With a heavy sigh, Bucky climbed the stairs to your apartment door, his footsteps echoing in the empty hallways. An hour must have passed since you would have gotten home. As he reached the familiar door, he hesitated for a moment, his already grazed knuckles hovering over the wood before finally summoning the courage to knock. 

The door swung open, revealing your concerned expression as you took in the sight of him standing on her doorstep, a black eye already began to form. 

“Bucky? What happened?” you exclaimed, your voice filled the air with concern as you ushered him inside.

He offered you a weary smile, his gaze met yours with a mixture of gratitude and exhaustion. “You should have seen the other guy,” he replied, his smile turning into a playful smirk. 

You arched an eyebrow skeptically, as you gestured for him to take a seat at the kitchen table. “Let’s just get you patched up,” you sent him a reassuring smile as you moved around your kitchen to fetch the first aid kit. 

As you began cleaning and dressing his wounds, he couldn’t help but marvel at the tenderness of your touch. Your hands moved with practiced precision while you stood in between his tights. Despite his attempts to downplay his injuries, he winced slightly as the antiseptic stung, his jaw clenching. 

A wave of emotion washed over you, and tears began to well up in your eyes, a silent testament to the guilt you carried from causing him more pain and discomfort. 

Bucky’s heart clenched at the sight of your tears, forgetting about his own pain momentarily as he reached out to gently cup your cheeks, wiping away the evidence of her distress. A gesture as gentle as it was instinctual. “Hey, what’s wrong?”  he asked softly, his hand never leaving your cheek.

You swallowed hard, your gaze flickering away from his as you struggled to find the words you wanted to say, “I, I don’t like when you’re hurt,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. 

A pang of guilt twisted in his chest as he realized the hurt he was causing. Without hesitation, he pulled you into a gentle embrace, his arms wrapping around your waist. “I know, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice filled with regret as he felt your tears dampen his skin. “I’m sorry,” 

In the warmth of his embrace, you found comfort, and the weight of your worries subsided by the rhythm of his heartbeat. You nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck, calming your emotions with every passing second.

---

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

[notsopersonalcharlie]

My Belle

Biker!Bucky Barnes x Fem!reader fluff

Bucky is part owner of a mechanic shop and bar, but his girlfriend is the one who rakes in the big bucks, so who's to judge him (his friends) if he's just a little (very) whipped for her.

Notes: Based on this post and this post! In my own personal headcannon readers name is Noelle, which explains the nickname bell(e) lol. There will CERTAINLY be more installments of this story. Gif isn't mine

You muttered under your breath as you pulled your work shoes off your stockinged feet. There were runs at the toes because you were too lazy last night to cut your toenails. Too lazy and distracted by a certain biker coming home. The same biker who was waiting outside, who had kindly turned off the idling engine, but still waited on the sidewalk patiently holding an extra helmet. 

Bucky looked down at his phone. The Howling Commando group chat was blowing up about some sports game and Bucky turned the notifications off before making sure you hadn’t messaged. You hadn’t. He checked your location, you were inside the building in front of him. He checked the texts again and then put his phone in his pocket. Staring at it won’t help, is what you would say. What did you know? Everything, Bucky thought to himself. Sam would have laughed in his face if he could hear the inner monologue.

“See ya monday!” Your team's receptionist called. 

“Not a moment sooner!” You quipped back over your shoulder as you pushed open the glass double doors. All six feet and a bit of your biker were waiting on the sidewalk, tattoos peeking out at the neck and along the wrists speaking of one of your favorite features of his.

“Hi Buck!” He looked up and a grin split his usually stoic face. 

“There’s my girl.” Two long strides and you were wrapped up in his arms, a warm kiss pressed hard to your lips. Bucky spun you in a circle.

“I missed you, belle.” 

“I missed you too, Buck.” Anyone would have thought you hadn’t seen each other in days, but Bucky had stopped by only a few hours before to drop off your lunch.

“You’re not getting on the bike like that, honey.” You rolled your eyes, setting down your bags. 

“I know, I forgot to grab my overpants this morning. Do you have extras?” Of course he did, you knew that, but it was the sweet pout and big eyes just for him. You knew he loved to take care of you, so if you “forgot” the pants, maybe it was just because he liked to know he was always prepared. 

“Of course I do.” He waited as you slid the cargo looking pants up over your work bottoms. He stored your bags away as you did, and then sat down on the bike, making sure your helmet, the black one with muted flowers sprouting along the edges that he bought especially for you, was secure on your head.

You slid onto the bike behind Bucky, taking a deep breath of the mechanics grease and sweat smell that always seemed to live on his biking jacket, before snapping your visor shut. Bucky couldn’t help the way his heart leapt a little like always when you wrapped his arms around his middle and rested the chin of your helmet against the middle of his back. Two squeezes to check that you was ready or okay, two back to tell him you was good to go. Three squeezes to say I love you, four back to say I love you too. 

Bucky started the bike and took off back toward the little house they shared just two blocks down from the Howling Commando. You watched the scenery passively, relying on Bucky’s expert riding to get you home safe. You was so glad it was the weekend. Work had been busy, all week you had found yourself calling Bucky, letting him know that you had to stay late, that you would call a rideshare home so he didn’t have to come. Of course every night by the time you were ready to go, Bucky was sitting outside, leaning against his bike. The only day he wasn’t, it was because he had to drive a few towns over that afternoon to pick up a special part for your car.

Instead Steve had been waiting with his own motorcycle, grinning ear to ear as he recited precisely the text Bucky had sent to make sure you was dressed properly and your helmet was on correctly. 

“You know he has never, since childhood, through the service, after, never once, acting like this with a girl.” You just rolled your eyes, followed the instructions as you always did, and sat on the back of Steve’s bike and let him drop you off right in front of the white picket fence Bucky had insisted he would build when you first moved in. 

“You there, belle?” You blinked and found that they had already gotten home. 

“Yeah, just... thinking.” You slid off the bike, gravel driveway crunching under your feet. Bucky pulled your helmet off your head and his blue eyes were intent on your expression, his adorable little pout on his lips.

“What’s up?” You took the helmet from his hands, setting it on the bike before pulling his gloves off his fingers and then intertwining your fingers together. 

“I love our life, Buck.”

“I love our life too.” He looked worried, the little crease between his eyebrows so endearing as always. You lifted one hand to rub your thumb to the spot, eliciting a smile from him. 

“That’s all, baby. I want to spend every day of my life with you.” The grin grew, and you found yourself lifted in the air again, and seated back on the bike. His sweet demeanor towards you and his friends made it easy to forget that Bucky was six feet tall and made entirely of muscle, even if he had built up a healthy bit of relationship chub since you started dating. Bucky kissed you, soft in the dying light of the evening. 

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you too, belle.” You stood like that for a long while, till the glow of the sun was barely left in the sky and the automatic yard lights had turned on. 

“What do you want to do tonight?” Bucky asked. Sweet, as always, but it was the same thing you did every night. 

“I can get changed and we can head over to the bar.” And as always, “Only if you want, honey.” 

Bucky put your things away, dirty lunch containers in the dishwasher and bag beside your desk in the living room, while you got dressed. It felt like it was a fresh start to life when you pulled on comfy jeans and one of the well worn and soft shop t-shirts. You grabbed a sweatshirt, and then paused and got another one for Bucky, before heading back into the kitchen where Bucky was looking at his phone. 

“Howling Commando, huh?” Bucky joked. You nodded with a grin, tossing him one of his gray Army sweatshirts. 

“Only if you'll let me be one."

"You're already an honorary member," Bucky responded, pressing a kiss to your temple. You walked down the road less than a half mile hand in hand. The bar must have been getting busy on a Friday night, because you hadn’t even made it within view before you could hear the rowdy sounds of your friends and regulars. The front patio was full of folks, some spilling over into the front driveway of the shop. 

“Oh! Can I check on my baby?” You asked, popping up on your toes to try to look into the tinted glass of the garage doors. 

“I thought I was your baby!” 

“She was my baby first,” you shot back, already heading for the side door between the bar and shop. Bucky tossed the keys to you. 

“Do you want your usual?” He was already headed toward the front door of the bar. 

“Mmm, how about whatever cocktail special Sam is whipping up today?” He nodded and you unlocked the door, pushing into the dark mechanics shop. The side door led right into the garage, as opposed to the neat front office, or at least Yelena liked to keep it neat, and you fumbled in the dark momentarily to find the lights. They were slow to warm up, but you started toward where your car had been sitting for a few weeks, inoperable while Bucky painstakingly replaced every piece of the engine to make sure it was as safe as possible for his girl. 

Bucky walked in the front of the bar after saying hello to a handful of regulars and service buddies who still stopped by. Steve was leaning against the front of the bar, and clapped him on the back when he sidled up beside him. 

“Where’s your better half?” 

“Checking on her baby,” Bucky waved for Sam’s attention, “Where’s Nat?” 

“Trying to get her to take a break.” Yelena scoffed from where she was sitting on a stool on the other side of Steve. 

“As if you could ever make her do that.” 

“I said trying to,” Steve shot back as Sam walked over. 

“Where’s your belle?” Bucky scowled at his friend. 

“Wants whatever cocktail concoction you’re making. I’ll take the usual.” 

The custom painted powder blue vintage Mini Cooper was more assembled than it had been when you checked in on it a few days ago, and as you got closer you could see that it was almost done, a few pieces were still sitting on Bucky’s workbench. 

A slightly Russian accented call of your name identified it as one of the two Romanoff sisters, one who ran the front of the shop and the other the front of the bar. 

“Yeah, I’m back here.” 

“I figured.” Natasha appeared from the other side of a Cadillac SUV. 

“She’s almost done!” You grinned. 

“I heard. The guys put me on break and when I was refusing, Bucky said I should come make sure you didn’t linger too long.” You laughed. 

“He hates when I mess with his work.”

“Then maybe you should come let him mess with your make up,” Natasha suggested. 

“Are you flirting with me for Bucky?” you asked incredulously. The redhead laughed as you followed her out the side door, locking it behind you before going into the bar from the front. Multiple of the regulars called out your names, offering waves and grins, and the cacophony doubled inside. 

“Finally! The better one! I have your drink right here!” Sam called. You smiled, taking the drink. 

“Thank you, kind sir.” The bar was reaching capacity, pool tables in the back already in full swing. The waiters were a constant blur, Howling Commando Bar shirts identifiable in the bustle from the star logo in white. 

“Buck said you had a long week at work,” Nat said, returning to her spot at the front of the bar waiting to intercept underaged looking patrons. 

“It was a busy one. We’re tr- Actually, you don’t really care and I don’t really want to talk about it. Where is Bucky?” You responded good naturedly, trying to spot the brunet in the crowd. 

“I think I can see Steve’s blond ass over there,” Sam said, pointing further into the bar. You took your drink and headed toward the general direction. Steve and Bucky were in the corner near the office, heads together. 

“Hey Steve!” Both men looked up, eyes wide, at your appearance, and quickly took half steps apart. 

“Not at all suspicious guys. Good thing you were special forces.” Steve smiled, and Bucky looked a little shy. 

“Buck keeps trying to hustle me in pool,” Steve responded, “I have fallen for that many many too many years in a row. Your turn to carry the burden.” He pushed into the crowd, leaving you beside Bucky. 

“What was that about?” 

“Just business stuff. How is the Sam special?” You eyed him as you took your first sip, pleasantly surprised by the lack of a remarkable burn on the back end of the taste.

“Better than the last one.” Bucky's hulking presence should have been stifling or claustrophobic, but instead it was comforting. You looked up into sincere blue eyes and he leaned down, pressing warm lips to yours. Your hands slipped up around his neck, holding your drink out so the condensation wouldn’t drip down the back of his shirt. Bucky’s arms were strong and warm and one hand palmed your ass before pulling away. Bucky’s hand found its way around your back as you looked across the bar.

“You know, you guys really did something,” you said, “I know I say it all the time. But it's just amazing.” Bucky and Steve had wanted to start something after they left the service and with their penchant for drinking and ability to fix nearly any mechanized vehicle a bar and mechanics shop made the most sense. Three members of their team, Tim Gabe and Percy, had moved on with their lives, even though they stopped by when they rolled through town. Sam, the Romanoff sisters, Tony, and a half dozen more had joined the family since the start, but there were still plaques honoring the fallen Commandos above the bar. 

“All we knew how to do.”

You spent the rest of the night drinking with regulars, Bucky beating them in pool and not taking money from them, and you running drinks and convincing one of the girls at the bar that Sam was actually sweet and coming by again couldn’t hurt. 

“If that’s what kinda wing woman I get when I make a good cocktail, I should really do it more often,” Sam joked when the group of women moved off. Bucky appeared over your shoulder, sliding his pint glass over to his friend who refilled it. 

“What’s that?” 

“Just trying to get Sammy a girlfriend, since he blew his shot with all our friends.” 

The bar was still in full swing when Bucky and you said your goodbyes, and if Bucky picked you up and carried you over his shoulder fireman style while you giggled the whole way home so they could get back a little faster, that was between the two of you.

Wonder what Bucky and Steve were talking about... Find out here right now!

[delicatebarness]

cry baby | chapter twenty one

Summary: Steve and Bucky have words.

Warning: Fighting. Punches. Swearing.

Word Count: 1151

Spotify Playlist | Support: Ko-FI

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A/N: Oh Steven, Steven, Steven. - Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as it is mine. - B

Tags: @buckys0whore | @thezombieprostitute | @lanabuckybarnes | @mishkatelwarriorgoddess | @softieekayy | @noonespecial90 | @hello-therree | @randomawesomeperson102 | @whoreforbarnes | @thejutvtsupport | @somnorvos | @cjand10 | @plasticbottleholder | @birdenthusiastez

Everything: @hallecarey1 | @pattiemac1 | @uhmellamoanna | @scraftsku35 | @ozwriterchick

Following Steve out of the apartment, Bucky slammed the door behind him. It echoed through the quiet hallway. Each step that Steve took was heavy with barely restrained fury. Bucky was trying to keep his own emotions in check, knowing that Steve’s anger was about to erupt any moment. 

As they reached the street, Steve abruptly turned to Bucky, his eyes blazed with rage. “What the hell were you thinking?” he demanded in a low voice.

Bucky’s frustration bubbled within as he clenched his fists. “It was harmless teasing, Steve.” 

“Harmless?” Steve snapped, his fists clenching at his sides as he stepped closer. “That didn’t seem harmless to me, Bucky. You were out of line, and you know it.” 

Taking a deep breath, Bucky met Steve’s glare head-on. “She started it,” he retorted, his tone sharp with anger. “Besides, she’s a Rogers. She can handle herself.” 

“That’s not the point,” Steve growled.” She’s my sister, Bucky. And, now she’s fucking Peter?” 

Bucky’s temper flared. “She’s an adult. She can make her own choices… Besides, Peter seems like a good kid.” 

“A good kid?” Steve raised his voice. His anger intensifies. “A good kid who’s sleeping with my sister? I don’t think so.” 

Bucky realized how far Steve’s mind had gone with the idea of you and Peter. “Steve, listen,” he started, but he was too late. Steve had already begun walking, his strides purposeful. 

“We’re going to Parker’s,” He announced, his voice boomed and his time left no room for argument. 

Hurrying his steps, Bucky tried to keep up. “Steve, man, calm down. You’re not thinking straight.” 

His jaw clenched, and his strides sped up. “I’m thinking perfectly straight, Buck. He will understand exactly what happens when he messes with my sister.” 

Grabbing Steve’s arm, Bucky forced him to stop. “Are we really doing this?” 

Steve shook off Bucky’s hand, carrying on down the street. “Yes, we are.” 

Bucky tried to keep his voice calm. “He’ll tell her, you know, the second we leave. Or, what are you going to do? Another Walker situation?” 

Steve froze. Betrayal and fury fuelled beneath him as he turned to Bucky. “What did you just say to me?”

Holding his ground, Bucky kept his voice steady. “You heard me. This isn’t the way to handle it, Punk. Going after the kid isn’t going to solve anything.” 

Steve directed his anger toward Bucky, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. “So what, Buck? I just let it go?”

“This isn’t about Peter is it?” Bucky said firmly. “Admit it, Steve. This is about you still not wanting me to date her.” 

Steve’s conflicting emotions caused his face to twist, his anger flaring. “This isn’t about you and her. This is about protecting her.” 

Taking a step closer, Bucky’s voice was low and fierce. “No, it’s about you not trusting me. You think I’m going to hurt her.” 

Steve’s eyes narrowed, taking a step right into Bucky’s face. The tension crackled between the friends. “Damn right, I don’t! Do you think I haven’t noticed the way you look at her? It’s been the same since we were kids. And every fucking time, I’ve had to step in and stop it.”

“Step in?” Bucky’s eyes widened in shock and anger. “You’ve beaten the shit out of me every time you thought I was crossing the line! Every god damn time, Steve!” 

“She’s my sister!” Steve’s eyes filled with righteous fury. “You were crossing the line! I won’t let anyone hurt her, especially not you.” 

“Especially not me?” Bucky’s temper had snapped. “I’ve done nothing but protect her, take care of her! You’re the one who’s too blind with overprotectiveness to see she’s not a kid anymore!” 

He shoved Bucky hard as his anger surged. “You think I’m blind? You think I don’t know what’s best for her? You’re fucking reckless, Bucky, you always have been!” Bucky quickly regained his footing after a slight stumble, his rage boiling. Stave advanced on Bucky, his fists tightened. “I won’t let her get hurt because of you. Not now, not ever.” 

Squaring his shoulders, Bucky refused to back down. “You think beating me up will change anything? Do you think it’ll make me suddenly stop caring about her? You’re wrong.” 

He swung at Bucky, his fury reaching its breaking point. A punch landed squarely on his jaw. Bucky’s fists came up in defense as he staggered but didn’t fall. “You want to do this, pal? Fine. But know this, I won’t stop fighting for her, no matter what you do.” 

Swinging again, Steve froze in surprise as Bucky caught his fist and pushed back. He slammed Steve into a nearby wall. “Can you imagine what it feels like to watch the only person you’ve ever loved fall for someone else?” Bucky’s voice scratched with a raw mix of anger and pain. 

Struggling against Bucky’s grip, Steve’s gaze met his. His eyes filled with defiance. “You’re not in love with her.” 

Bucky slammed Steve against the wall again, harder this time. His grip against Steve tightened. “Don’t fucking dare tell me how I feel,” he hissed. 

The two friends stood facing each other as the fight was inevitable, and both knew it had been a long time coming. 

In a sudden blur, Steve broke free from Bucky’s grip. He delivered a swift uppercut that connected to Bucky’s jaw. Bucky staggered back again, but he regained his footing. Charging again, Steve’s fists flew in a flurry of strikes. Bucky ducked and weaved. He landed a solid punch to Steve’s ribs, causing him to grunt in pain.

Steve’s punches were wild and angry giving Bucky the chance to counter a hard right hook. Steve barely flinched before throwing himself at Bucky. He tackled him to the ground. The force knocked the wind out of Bucky, and they both rolled across the pavement, grappling for control.

With gritted teeth, Bucky pushed Steve off him, sending him sprawling. Scrambling to his feet quickly Steve didn’t notice Bucky had been faster. Swinging a powerful punch which Steve barely managed to block. 

After more punches were thrown, Bucky shouted. “Enough!” His voice hoarse as he took a step forward, his eyes locking with Steve’s. “Twenty years, Steve. You’ve got to stop fighting me on this. I’ve loved her for twenty fucking years, and that’s not changing. If her not feeling the same way toward me doesn’t stop that, neither will a black eye from you.” 

His chest heaved as he met Bucky’s gaze again. The fight had drained out the both of them, Steve’s replaced with a mix of frustration and resignation. Standing there, his breathing heavy, he struggled to find words. He couldn’t deny the truth in Bucky’s eyes, a true testament to the years of unspoken desire. 

The street faded away for a moment, leaving the two of them locked in a silent battle of emotions.

---

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[mrs-barnes-rogers-writes]

Mrs Barnes-Rogers Writes Masterlist

A Second Chance Is A Better Chance

Marvel AU

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader; Alpha Steve Rogers x Omega reader; Alpha Steve Rogers x Omega Witch reader; eventual Alpha Steve Rogers x Omega witch reader x ?

Theme: A/B/O

Summary: Rejected by your true mate at 21, you’ve given up on the Fates and the Moon Goddesses giving you a second chance. Being a Roamer for the last 9 years, you’re an Omega hardened by the world. You’re safe on your own because of your witchcraft, but it doesn’t stop Alphas and plenty of others sniffing around, especially when you’re an unmated Omega witch, who’s wolf also happens to be white, the rarest kind. You don’t need anyone, but why do you keep coming back to Brookville and why do you keep walking into trouble and helping people that you don’t know but for some strange reason feel like family. And where is that smell of apple pie coming from?

The Fate Of A Fae

Marvel AU

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader x Steve Rogers

Theme: Soulmates / Monster/Fantasy AU

Summary: Natasha Romanoff is a meddling, pain in the ass Sprite, who you wrongly thought would leave you alone once you introduced her to your best friend, Darcy. News flash, she doesn’t and she won’t. Not when she thinks you’re a perfect match for two of her best friends. Could she be right? Maybe. Just don’t tell her that.

“Never tell Natasha Romanoff she was right” - Clint Barton

Sometimes Your Soul Family Is The Only Family You Need

Marvel AU

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader x Steve Rogers

Theme: Soulmates

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

Pretty As A Picture

Marvel

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Theme: Soulmates

Summary: When Bucky fell from the train, their soulmate was told he was gone. When Steve Rogers disappeared into the ice, their soulmate was again told one her soulmates were gone. But she didn't believe it. Couldn't believe it. Committed to a mental health institute, she dies of a broken heart. That's at least what the hidden S.H.I.E.LD files say, but if that's the case than why is there a photo of her. A photo that shows her side by side two redhaired Avengers.

The Pull Of You

Marvel

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Theme: Soulmates

Summary: You meet Steve and Bucky on a Tuesday. Steve ignores the soulmate pull, Bucky can't. There's something about you that neither can shake, even when you're wearing one of Clint's tshirts and your unicorn slippers. After weeks of slipping into your bed Bucky decides he can't hold back anymore. He's telling you after the mission, whether Steve is all in or not. When you don't come back from the mission, they are both ready to burn the world down and the team have the matches to help. But is everything as it seems and have they been betrayed by someone on the inside.

Angel

Marvel AU

Pairing: Alpha Steve Rogers x Enhanced Omega Reader x Alpha Bucky Barnes

Theme: A/B/O

Summary: It's different when you're enhanced. Everything is different, every smell, every sound, touch, feelings. The way it's different doesn't make sense unless you are enhanced. Throw in what comes with Alpha and Omega instincts, and the intensity of your presentation is even more than any other. When you find yourself in need of help you can call on the alpha you trust the most, Natasha Romanoff. You just don't expect to find your alphas at the same time. Are you really enough for them? And can you really be the Luna to the Avengers.

"To be loved, to be loved by your mate is everything." - Wanda Maximoff

Our Lost Girl, Our Babydoll Masterlist

Marvel AU

Pairing: Alpha Steve Rogers x Omega Reader x Alpha Bucky Barnes

Theme: A/B/O

Summary: A bookshop and a spilled coffee leads you to Clint. He leads you to Natasha, and you lead them both to your best friend Darcy. They try to introduce you to Bucky and Steve but you're full of excuses and Irish goodbyes. Until Bucky catches your scent on Natasha and he's sliding in your DM's and offering to help pack up Darcy's apartment. Steve wants to give their bookworm the world and your Irish goodbyes won't slip passed him, because his eyes never leave you. But what's giving you the lost look in your eyes?

The Feral Princess Masterlist

Marvel AU

Pairing: Stucky x Reader

Theme: Soulmate AU / Medieval / Fantasy / Soulmate Marks

Summary: Bucky and Steve have known they were soulmates since they were children. Fate bringing a then sickly Steve and the future King together. War takes them apart and throws them back together over and over, in and out of each other lives, arms and beds. But something is missing and throughout, they know they are missing their third and final piece. The kingdom is now Bucky's and Steve's, the latter now a leader and no longer a sickly child. Both are war heroes, with the respect of their country and those that surround it. They are a force to be reconned with, admired and respected within the other royal houses. They could have any maiden or princess they wanted, but they don't want just anyone. They want their soulmate. They want their princess. Even if she is known as The Feral Princess.

Fancy a cuppa? My Ko-Fi.

[itiswormtimebaby]

Here’s what I’m thinking about: All the ass Bucky kicked on your behalf growing up. Biker!Bucky x Bug (+brothers best friend Buck, plus sized reader)  Platonic Steve x Reader (He’s her adopted brother)

TW: Bullying, fat shaming, name calling, mentions of blood, violence While dealing primarily with their platonic relationship this is meant to offer some insight into Steve, Bucky, and Bug’s shared past. 

It’s not like he had to go out of his way, he would have, but most of the time he didn’t need to. No, Steve-shit-stirrer-Rogers had that part handled, because if it was your problem it was Steve’s problem, and if it was Steve’s problem it was Bucky’s problem, and Bucky had a lot of problems. Steve couldn’t help being a rather sickly teenager, but Jesus what he lacked in muscle he made up for in mouth, all piss and vinegar as Bucky’s Ma used to say; and as soon as the bullying started that mouth was constantly moving. To his credit Steve never asked for help, never asked for backup, he took his brotherly duty seriously and if that meant getting his ass handed to him five times a day so be it, he’d at least get one good punch in on the way down (occasionally…maybe…sometimes). 

In truth Bucky would have defended you regardless of your relationship to Steve, it’s just how he was raised, but you being his best friend's sweet (if not at times annoying) kid sister served to make it all the more personal. So when Steve stormed off to confront some assholes that had been moo-ing at you in the hallway he may have made sure their heads bounced off their lockers on the way to the floor (a few more times than necessary).  When he found out paint had been “accidentally” spilled all over your art project the asshole with the bucket couldn’t breathe without wincing for a week (neither could Steve who hadn’t bothered waiting on Bucky to start the fight). And when your first “real” boyfriend broke up with you because he liked your personality but not your body (“Maybe we could try again if you lost some weight?”) Bucky didn’t stop until his knuckles were bloody and the fucker was crying as hard as you’d been when you tearfully confsessed to Steve what had you so upset. Granted by that time Steve had built enough muscle mass and spent enough hours in the boxing gym to handle it himself but Bucky insisted Steve stay with you while he handled it. 

He’d spent the night in jail for that stunt, but it was worth it, no one made his Bug cry. Maybe if he’d paid more attention to that, that effortless inclusion of his, he would’ve seen the writing on the wall. Maybe it wouldn’t have taken so damn long for him to realize he loved you (and to say it). 

[delicatebarness]

cry baby | chapter twenty nine

Summary: Adrenaline courses through Cry Baby as she takes on some deep and needed conversation.

Warning: None, I don't think? Other than it being a Bucky-free chapter.

Word Count: 1266

Spotify Playlist | Support: Ko-FI

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

A/N: I have nothing to say with this one, except MY GIRL HAS A BACKBONE. - Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as mine. - B

Tags: @buckys0whore | @thezombieprostitute | @lanabuckybarnes | @mishkatelwarriorgoddess | @softieekayy | @noonespecial90 | @hello-therree | @randomawesomeperson102 | @whoreforbarnes | @thejutvtsupport | @somnorvos | @cjand10 | @plasticbottleholder | @birdenthusiastez | @am-3-thyst

Everything: @hallecarey1 | @pattiemac1 | @uhmellamoanna | @scraftsku35 | @ozwriterchick | @sapphirebarnes | @rach2602

Your feelings were a mixture of emotions when you woke you the morning after the art exhibition. Bucky’s absence and your revelation of your feelings for him weighed heavily despite the success of your show. You began getting ready to leave for the gallery again, hoping the familiar surroundings and schedule would bring some distractions. However, more than anything, you wanted to talk to your brother. 

You took a deep breath, picked up your phone, and sent him a message: “Can you meet me at the gallery? I need my brother.” 

His response was quick, he agreed to meet you there. The gallery was quiet, a stark contrast to the lively celebration from the night before, as you arrived first. The art pieces stood silently, every pen stroke a testament to your hard work and passion. 

A few minutes later, Steve walked in with a concerned expression. “Hey,” he said softly. “What’s going on?” 

Emotions swirled within you as you turned to face him. “I’m not over what you did,” you began, the turmoil inside you betraying your voice causing it to tremble. “But, I really need my brother right now.” 

Stepping closer, Steve’s eyes softened. “I’m here for you,” he assured, reaching out and gently squeezing your shoulder with a small smile. “Tell me what’s going on.” 

You hesitated, taking a deep breath as you tried to find the right words. “I’m in love with Bucky.” Your words hung in the air, undeniable and heavy. 

Steve’s jaw clenched, as his face tightened with anger. “What did you just say?” 

“I love Bucky,” you repeated, your voice was firm.

“Do you know how many times I’ve had to stop him?” he mumbled, anger flaring visibly. “How many times he crossed the line?” 

You stared at him, confusion etched in your face. “What are you talking about?” 

His face could barely contain his fury, his fists clenched at his sides. “Every time I thought he was getting too close, I made sure he knew his place. I did it to protect you.” 

The realization of his words hit you like a freight train. Memories of all those times Bucky would turn up at your apartment with new cuts, new bruises. “You… you were the one beating him all these years?” 

Steve’s eyes widened, and shock filled them as he realized his slip-up. “I was trying to keep you safe,” he said, his voice softening, trembling with anger and regret. “He’s not right for you.” 

Tears welled up in your eyes, anger and frustration consuming you. “You don’t get to decide that for me, Steve! You don’t get to control my life like that!” 

“I was trying to protect you!” Steve’s voice raised, his voice straining with emotion. “He’s my best friend, if anyone knows he’s not good for you, it’s me! I’ve seen what he’s capable of.” 

“You’ve seen what he’s capable of because you pushed him to it!” you snapped back at him. “You beat him up every time you thought he was getting close to me? And, do you think that’s okay? You think that’s protecting me?” 

The realization of his actions dawned on him, you had never seen Steve look so taken back. “I… I didn’t mean to…” 

“But you did,” you interrupted, your voice beginning to break. “It’s not your decision to make. I love you, Stevie, but if you want to be a part of my life, you need to stop trying to fucking control it. I’m in love with Bucky, and that is my choice.” 

The silence between you grew heavy, filled with the weight of your words hanging in the air. Steve looked at you, regret and stubbornness warred on his expression. It seemed for a moment like he might argue back, but then he simply nodded. 

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “For everything. I’ll try to let it go. I just… I’ve always just wanted to protect you.” 

Stepping forward, you wrapped your arms around your brother tightly. “I know. But, you have to trust me to make my own choices. That’s what we do, we trust each other.” 

Steve hugged you back, his grip strong and desperate. “I’ll try. I promise.” 

A weight lifted off your shoulders as you pulled away. The gap between you was far from resolved, but it was a start. And for now, that was enough.

~

You were left feeling both empowered and vulnerable as the adrenaline from your conversation with Steve coursed through you. You knew what you had to do next, you needed to act on your promises, and you couldn’t keep Peter in the dark any longer. 

As you walked into the cafe you arranged to meet him at, your mind began to race. On the way, you rehearsed what you were going to say, and how you were going to explain your feelings. The adrenaline pushes you forward, giving you the strength you need. 

Just as before, Peter was already seated at the corner table. There was a knowing look in his eyes, making your heart ache, as his expression stayed calm. 

“Peter,” you began, your vice trembling slightly as you sat with him. “I need to talk to you about something.” 

His gaze was gentle and understanding as he looked at you. “I know,” his soft voice cut you off before you could continue. 

Confusion washed over you. “What do you mean?” 

He sighed, a small sad smile playing on his lips. “I know you’re not in love with me. And I know you’ve tried to be, but… I’m not him. I’m not Bucky.”

His words sank in, tears welling in your eyes. “Peter, I’m so sorry. I truly never wanted to hurt you.” 

Reaching across the table, he rested his hand on yours reassuringly. “I know you didn’t. I’ve seen it for a while now, the way you look at him. Your eyes light up when you talk about him… It’s always been him, hasn’t it?” 

The tears spilled down your cheeks as you nodded. “It has. But, I didn’t realize until last night.” 

Squeezing your hand gently, Peter continued to speak softly. “I want you to be happy, and I can’t be the one to make you happy if your heart belongs to someone else.” 

You nodded again. “I’m so sorry, Peter,” you whispered, your voice choking with emotion. 

Another reassuring smile was sent your way. “It’s okay. I’ll always care about you, and even if it’s not with me, I want you to be happy.” 

Pulling your hand back, you wiped away your tears. “You deserve to be with someone who is truly in love with you. You’re a good man, Peter, and you’ve been such an important part of my life.” 

“And you mine,” he replied softly. “We’ll always have that.” 

You both stood up to leave, Peter pulled you into a tight hug. “Take care of yourself,” he murmured. 

“You too,” you replied, tightening your hold on him for a moment longer before finally letting go. 

Walking toward the cafe door, you felt a strange mixture of sadness and relief. The adrenaline still lingered, causing you to turn back to Peter. 

“Peter?” you called out, causing him to look up from his coffee cup. “I like Michelle.” His eyes flickered with surprise, a smile forming on his lips after a beat. 

With a final nod toward him, you turned and walked out of the cafe. The sense of closure settles in your heart. As you stepped onto the bustling city sidewalk, you knew you had made the right decision for both you and Peter.

---

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[bettyfrommars]

Ring of Fire

a biker!Steve au

Part 3: The Runaway

Masterlist

18+Only, adult themes, mention of an abusive relationship, mention of cheating (not on reader), mention of violence, alcohol consumption, yearning, reader uses she/they pronouns, it's the late 90's, but also time doesn't really exist in Hawkeye. Platonic Stobin Forever, biker!Hopper, and biker!Eddie. Reader has very specific skills and backstory that verges on OC.

Word Count: 5.4k Playlist

A/N: I was going to call this a very self-indulgent chapter, but they all are, lmao. This is my love letter to biker Steve and my yearning to go to one of Hopper's barbecues with the rest of the gang. There will be a future wlw relationship for Robin with a woman worthy of her love, and we'll see more of Wayne in the next part. Trying to decide if I should give biker Eddie someone too, but for now, we have this. I love those of you who have decided to join me in this world, truly. Also, the playlist is a work in progress, and if you stumble upon a song that makes you think of biker Steve, or this story in general, please let me know!

-----

Groaning as he rolled over in bed to face the green numbers on his digital alarm clock, Steve felt a strange satisfaction at the fact that he hadn't tossed and turned all night.  Thumbing sleep from his eyes, he felt around the nightstand, and cursed under his breath to note that it was barely daybreak, and he was out of smokes. He knew the gas station would be open, and then immediately wondered if you would be there.

He tried to blink the thought away, desperate not to make thinking about you first thing in the morning a habit.  Habits like that were hard for him to break once things inevitably went to shit.

On his back, he stared at the ceiling, recalling bits of a dream that were still floating behind his eyes.  The images of the family he kept having were so vivid, he expected to roll over and hold the woman next to him and call her his wife, but that side of the bed had not been warm in years. He’d never had the urge to marry, and he certainly didn’t have any children.  But when he slept? It was as if he lived a double life. Tears built on his lash line at the memory of one of the young girls holding his leg and calling him daddy, it made him shoot up into a sitting position with a jolt.  

“Shake it off, Harrington,” he mumbled to himself.  

Hissing at a sudden sharp pain in his knee, he made his way to the kitchen in his polka dot boxers, scratching his head with a yawn.  Robin had been staying with him for a few months after her breakup, and it was the happiest he’d been in a while. There used to be dishes piled up in the sink, but now there was nothing but a single Chinese takeout container on the kitchen table and a pot on the stove with Velveeta cheese caked to the insides.  

He’d thought about getting a smaller place or another roommate, but the rent Eddie was charging him was dirt cheap, and he’d surprised himself with how much he liked taking care of the yard and the domesticity of it all.  He only wished he had someone to share it with.

The first thing he did was turn on the tiny 6-inch, countertop television near the toaster so that there could be some noise; the early morning silence was deafening, it made him uneasy.  The only thing showing on all four channels was the news, announcing more rain over the weekend.  One newscaster was talking about a rash of women disappearing around Hawkeye, but the murmuring was low, and he was busy searching around for the sustenance he needed to start his day.   

He used the French press that was already there when he moved in to make coffee, and when he opened the fridge to get the milk, there was your dish of lasagna.  Clear blue Pyrex dish staring him in the face, just one more reminder. 

It made him feel warm for a second, as if you were also in the house somewhere.  Like maybe you’d come around the corner and slip your arms around him from behind.  

He pulled back the tin foil cover to be reminded that there was only a slice left in the corner since he’d been eating it for practically every meal the past three days.  

He hadn’t set eyes on you in just as long, since the protection run with the Kings got pushed back a day and he had to cancel on his plans to pick you up and go for a ride.  

It was all for the best, really.  He wondered if it was too soon to show you what he had in mind.

But he promised he’d return the dish to you, and he needed cigarettes.

Was there a way to ask for your schedule without sounding like a stalker?

Eh, probably not.

The wall phone rang and he scratched his balls through his boxers on his way over to answer it.  He’d shaved down there just to see what it would look like, but the new growth itched like a motherfucker.  Even though it did make his dick look bigger, he’d decided to never get a sharp object so close to his sack ever again.  Unless, maybe, you were into that sort of thing.  

“Yeah? This ‘s Steve.”

It was Robin letting him know that she’d broken up with her live-in girlfriend yet again, and needed him to come and pick her up.

“You never should’ve gone and done that again, I told you,” he ran a rough hand down his face.

“I don’t need that from you right now,” she sniffed, speaking in a strained whisper.  Her voice was raspy, and she hiccupped to hold back a sob.  

This was the second time she’d tried to make things work with the newest one, Nicole or Nikelle or some shit.  They’d decided to move in together a week after they met, and the last few months had been emotional turmoil.  She hated her, she loved her, and then she hated her again.

Steve hoped that this time it stuck so that he could have his roommate back.  He got busy doing the dishes and cleaning up, whistling while he worked. 

“I’ll pull your sheets out of the closet,” he told her. “Be there to pick you up in twenty minutes.”

—---

“Your precious Steve is here,” Nic spat, pushing the curtain back to eye the truck pulling up to the curb.  “I suppose you told him this was all my fault?”

“I haven’t told him anything,” Robin sighed, frowning into her bag, shoving her last few belongings in.  “But I’m not the one who cheated again, am I?”

She swallowed, aching to explode, but not wanting to give her newly appointed ex the satisfaction of another tear or argument.

“Hey,” Nic took hold of her elbow, pinning her with an earnest look.  Her complexion was olive, her thick black hair buzzed short, and the bright green of her irises had a long track record of melting Robin into submission.  “You can’t hold that against me, you know I can’t help it.”

Robin scoffed, jerking out of her grasp .  “You know, I can’t believe I fell for that a second time.”

Steve was halfway up the sidewalk when Robin shuffled out of the door wearing a backpack, and carrying too big duffle bags that had clothes spilling out of the open zippers.  

“Get me out of here, “ she groaned, letting him take one of the bags from her to help.  

He caught Nic’s stare through the kitchen window and she flipped him off.  He mirrored the gesture with a wide, fake grin, hoping he’d never have to see her face again.  

Robin slid the blue Pyrex dish over while she scooted in to throw her stuff behind the seat in the extended cab.

“What’s this?” 

Steve got behind the wheel and gave a curious grunt as if he wasn’t sure.  “That’s, um, you remember when she brought the lasagna.”

Robin’s tired, puffy eyes lit up for a second.  “Interesting. You finally going to ask her out when you give it back?”

“Was thinking about it,” he put it in gear and peeled away, tires spitting gravel and dust.  He pushed the sleeves of his flannel up.  “There’s that party at Hopper’s place tonight.”

Robin sat ridgid, but her shoulders started to relax the further they got down the road. She rolled her eyes. “You’re going to invite her to a biker party as a first date? I’m sure you could do better.  What about that Italian place?”

He agreed with the sentiment, but to be completely honest, he was nervous as shit to be alone with you.  He didn’t get that way with everyone, but his heart fell out his ass with nerves every time he imagined what he’d say when he had you all to himself.  

“I guess it’s not a bad idea,” she shrugged.  “Casual, no pressure.  Better than getting stuck on an awkward, uptight dinner date.”

“I really want to take her to the old Danvers place.”

Robin twisted in her seat to stare at his profile.  “You sure she could handle that?”

“Dunno,” he got on the ramp to the freeway, rolling down his window as he went.  “But I think she’s got secrets too.”

—-----

You stood behind the worn, yellowed countertop at work that morning selling smokes and gatorade and snacks for weary workers and travelers.  A woman brought a batch of fresh sandwiches wrapped in cellophane and chocolate chip cookies every day, and they always sold out fast, so you set a turkey on wheat aside for later.  

Earlier, you’d stood at the sink in your apartment with a razor in your hand, considering shaving all of the hair off of your head.  Once the moment passed, you just stared at the blade for a long while, turning it over in your hand, wondering about its other uses.

A group of teenagers on their high school lunch break came through buying chips and beef jerky and soda to the tune of The Plimsouls singing A Million Miles Away, and while you were busy counting the loose change they paid with, you didn’t look up when the bell over the door chimed.  

You were just closing the register after the last kid when your pyrex slid into view.

He thought about leaving it further down on the counter with a note for you to find later, but then he told himself to not act like a fourteen year old.  Would you like to go on a date with me? Please check yes or no.

He had his wayfarer sunglasses on, showcasing the simplicity of a white Hanes tee, fresh pack of cigarettes rolled up in his sleeve like an old-time greaser, and worn jeans with a hole in one knee. The rolled up sleeve revealed more of the tattoo on his bicep; it looked like traditional Sailor Jerry ink, but you couldn’t tell what.  He worked a piece of pink gum in his mouth, grinding it in his front teeth, but he didn’t say anything, he just moved the dish closer.

“Is this a robbery?” You adjusted your shirt, wondering if you looked okay.  

He cocked an eyebrow high and held it there.  “That’s right, put all the money in the dish and no one will get hurt.”

You gave a soft snort, tucking your chin to stifle a grin.

Pushing his sunglasses up into his hair to show that he had a clear sunburn line on his cheeks, he checked around the room as if it were illegal for the two of you to be talking.  Scratching his chest with the LOVE hand you noticed the motor oil stained in the creases of his knuckles.

“So, um, if you’re free tonight and you get bored or something, there’s a party, at a place out near the lake,” he paused, trying to gauge the blank expression on your face.  “I know the guy, he’s a friend of mine. Hopper, from the other night at the Blue Light.  There will be plenty of booze, he’s got a pool.  Burgers and shit.  Just a few friends but I dunno, it might be fun.”

He closed his eyes for a beat, worried he was talking way too fast.  He cupped his hands on the edge of the counter, exposing the muscles and veins on the underside of his forearms.  “Unless you have plans or something.  Thought I’d invite you cause you’re new in town and all, but if you’re busy, I get it.”

“I’m not busy,” you were quick to respond the second he gave you the chance. After he had to cancel the last time he wanted to take you somewhere, you wondered if he would ever try again.  A grandfatherly gentleman came through the door and you greeted him while he shuffled over to the coffee station.

 “Are you going?”

He made a fist and pounded the side of it lightly on the counter a few times.  “Yeah, I was thinking about stopping by to check it out.  If you want, you know, I could pick you up or something.”

Steve moved aside so that you could take the money for the older customer’s big styrofoam cup of cream and sugar coffee.

You put the quarters in the cash register with a metal clatter as you spoke.  “I think I might take my own car,” your eyes flicked to him and then down again.  “You know, just in case I hate it.”

“No, that's smart. I’lll take my own vehicle too, and then we can, you know, meet there.”

He heard how stupid the words were when they left his mouth, but it was too late.  He took the pack of reds out of his sleeve and squashed it open to pluck out a smoke to put between his lips.  

He didn’t light it, but he kept it pinned there, bobbing as he spoke. “You got a piece of paper?”

He took a pen from the collection at his elbow, and you ripped off a piece of cash register tape so that he could jot down the address to the place.

“It’s real easy.  Once you get to the end of the road, go left, and it will be about a mile down on your right.  Red mailbox, the house is tucked in the trees.” He straightened to look at what he’d written, and then bent down again to keep the pen going.  “This is my number just in case.”

The side of your mouth jerked up in a smile while you watched his profile.  “What time should I be there?”

He rolled the cigarette from one side of his mouth to the other and capped the pen.  “Whenever. Around 6 or 7 if you wanna eat, but I’m sure the party will go on until late.”

“You can bring a friend if you want,” he added, praying you didn’t show up with another dude.

“I don’t have any friends,” you kept your eyes on the paper as you pulled it toward you, chuckling softly.

“That’s not true,” he turned away as he said it.  “You’ve got me.”

—-------

You thought you were lost at one point, winding through the old highway through the cornfields, but the second you found the fork in the road, you knew exactly where you were.  You hated that you’d spent almost two hours throwing clothes around your apartment trying to decide what to wear.

“He’s just some dude,” you mumbled to yourself, fixing your hair in the mirror.  “It’s nothing to get all nervous about.”

You took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  “It’s just a lame barbecue, nothing to get worked up about.  He’s a friend from school, that’s all.”

But, was that all?  

You had a blue and green stained glass bird hanging in one of the small windows, right above a trio of succulents in various planters, and you made sure to sprinkle a rare dose of water on them before you left. 

You got all the way down to your car, realized you hated the shoes you had on, and went back up to change them.  Donna eventually came out to ask you where you were going, not that it was any of her business.

“To a friend's house,” is what  you appeased her with, feeling that it would be wrong to ignore your boss, even if she had no right to ask..  

Hopper’s place was a brown and tan double wide surrounded with trees with an above ground pool out back, through the carport.  The grill was back there too, and a bunch of friends downing beers in camp chairs.  He’d gone over to the motel to invite Lorelei, but she was leaving on an out of town date with a regular that night, and a part of him wished he’d never known that.  Now, he’d have to drink away how worried he’d be for her to make it home safe.  

Or maybe he’d stay relatively sober, just in case she called.

He turned from the grill to catch his reflection in the living room window, rubbing a hand over the short beard there under the smoldering cigarette between his lips.  He muttered out loud to himself that he needed to get a fucking haircut soon since it was long enough to tuck behind his ears.  

“Sorry man,” Steve brushed by on his way around the house again.

“Hey Taz,” Hopper called after him, making Steve spin around, the heel of his Converse digging into the grass.  “Why the hell are you so fidgety tonight? Have another beer, sit the fuck down.  I’m gonna shove this burger down your throat in a minute.”

Steve raked a hand through his hair a few times, exhaling a ragged breath.  This was only his third or fourth time going around front to see if he could get a view of your car coming down the road, but for some reason, Hopper was keeping track.  

Steve wondered if it was wrong that he wanted to hug you when you showed up.   

He moved his hand to the back of his neck, rubbing there.  “I told you I got that friend that might be coming. Wanted to make sure she didn’t miss the turn.”

Hopper brought his attention back to the food, letting the ash from his smoke dust the front of his Magnum P.I. tropical shirt as he spoke. “What if she doesn’t show, what then?”

“Won’t matter to me,” Steve shrugged, hooking his thumbs into his belt loops. “I need to get the other cooler out of my truck anyway.”  

He kept on his way before Hopper could say another word.  

An hour, a burger, some potato salad, and several beers later, there was still no sign of you.  A few people bobbed around in the pool as dusk bloomed on the horizon, while the rest settled in a circle around the campfire to the tune of Wild One by Thin Lizzy.

He was staring at the fire, thinking about getting up for a third beer, when he heard the distinct crunch of  tires rolling up to the gravel of the driveway from the main road.

—----

You turned down the radio, taking a few calming breaths.

He’s just a stupid boy…you reminded yourself, pulling in near the red mailbox to park behind two Harley Davidson Fatboys.  Steve’s truck was parked further up the road, away from the house, to give others more room to park, you assumed.  Hopper drove a Bronco, as well as his Harley Softail, and there were two other vehicles you didn’t recognize. 

Several tiki torches lined the way to the back of the home while the sunset blazed tangerine.  You hadn’t even turned the engine off yet when you saw Steve appear at a slow jog, waving as if to assure you that you were at the right place.  

Your heart tripped over itself at the sight of him, and you gave a quick glance to the rearview mirror to check your face. He waited for you to open the door and step one foot out before he asked if you needed a hand.  

“I brought beer,” there was a 12 pack Schlitz on the front seat from the mini mart.  A last minute choice since you’d forgotten to ask if you needed to bring anything. Steve stood holding the door open while you stretched over to grab it.  He saw the way your shirt creeped up to show some skin on your hip, but then she quickly averted his eyes.

“Wasn’t sure you were gonna make it,” he took the case of beer from you as you stood.  “Saved you some food if you’re hungry.”

Shouts and splashes echoed from the pool after it sounded like someone did a belly flop.  Steve had on a nice, button down, grass green shirt with what looked like newer blue jeans.  Had he just bought them that day? You liked the way the shirt was unbuttoned a few so that his messy patch of chest hair was on full display.  That was the most “dressed up” you’d ever seen him.  

“Think you might want to go for a swim?” He carried the case under his arm like it didn’t weigh a thing.

The question flustered you.  “I didn’t bring a bathing suit.”

He smelled really good, not like strong cologne or anything but just clean and spicy and…soft.  Like maybe you could bite into his flesh and honey would come out. 

Most of the 12 or 14 other people at the party there were too tipsy and too busy deep in their own conversation to really care or notice when the two of you came around the corner.  Hopper looked up from his chair across the fire, exhaling smoke from his cigar.  It was a big, circular fire pit made of stone, and you had the feeling he made it himself.  

There was an empty seat you assumed was Steve’s, and next to it was a younger kid with thick sideburns and a PROSPECT insignia on the back of his Coffin King’s leather.  

Still holding the beer, Steve kicked the aluminum legs of the young man’s chair. “Get up.”

The guy snapped his head to see who it was and was quick to stand.  You had your mouth open to protest taking someone else’s seat, but the guy was already off to find another one.

“I’m gonna go put these in the fridge,” Steve said.  “You want beer or–?”

“Got any whiskey?” You could feel Hopper’s eyes on you.

“Coming right up,” he replied, squeezing your shoulder. 

The whiskey tamed your nerves, and he handed you his cigarette for a few drags.  He offered you one of your own, but you declined, citing that you didn’t want to get too comfortable with it.  But really, you just liked sharing his; to hold it in your lips right after him, teasing the tip of your tongue across the filter.  He introduced you to the ones around the fire, all members of the Coffin Kings, and a few of them had partners, or “old ladies” as they were affectionately called.  You listened to the conversations buzzing around, and every once in a while, you’d find yourself chuckling at some story Steve told.  What about the time he tried to steal a riding lawnmower from the hardware store, and four employees chased him through the parking lot?

“I was just a kid,” he leaned over to tell you so that you wouldn’t think it was something he did recently.  “Barely sixteen I think. One of the guys dared me, and I never say no to those for some reason.”

“You never say no to a dare?” 

He shook his head. “Nah, I figure if I’m not hurting anyone else, there’s nothing I won’t try once.”

You pondered that, wondering about the things you wouldn’t do if dared.  

You must’ve shivered, or maybe it was just his intuition, but he motioned to his leather jacket on the backseat of the chair. “You cold? Wanna wear this?”

“No I’m fine, thank you,” but then, “maybe later.”

“What about you,” Hopper said over the tips of the flames, looking in your direction.  “You got a story?”

For the first time all night, they all turned to you, expectantly, and your face began to sweat.

Steve’s hand found your knee. “You don’t have to,” he whispered.  

You thought about the stories you had, and wondered if you should tell the truth or make one up.

“Um,” by then, the others had lost interest. Steve and Hopper were the only ones looking at you. “Well, I ran away from home once and joined the circus.”

Sparks popped in the fire, and Hopper tilted his head to squint curiously.

Steve went along with it.  “Were you a dancer? Those women with the tassels on their—”

He was about to say nipples but stopped himself.

“I had a couple different jobs,” you took another sip.  “I sold cotton candy at one of the kiosks, did tarot readings and fortune telling.  The last job I had was as a magician’s assistant.”

“You serious?” Steve was fascinated.  “You mean you’re, like, psychic or something?”

You rubbed your lips together, thumbing the rim of your beverage.  “Not exactly, I’ve never been sure how it works, but I see things sometimes.”

“How old were you?” The woman with the bleached blonde hair next to you asked.  She wore an American flag bikini top with tattered denim Daisy Dukes.  

“Seventeen.”

Steve had his chin pinned to his shoulder, searching your face with deepening interest.  

“That’s badass,” the Prospect that had once been in your chair said, but he was next to Hopper at that point.  He had a full head of wavy hair, feathered off his face with some type of gel.  come to find out, his name was Dino, as in short for Dinosaur.  “I’ve always wanted to join the circus.”

The rest of them gave low chuckles, and one mumbled, “there’s still time.”

“Why did you run away from home?” Steve whispered it, wondering if maybe you might not want to answer that in front of everyone.

Dino went on to expand on what a good circus barker he’d be while you spoke only to Steve.

“I didn’t really have, you know, the best childhood,” you mumbled. 

“Someone hurt you?” Just the thought made him upset.

You took another sip, and then raised your voice so the group could hear. “We had one of those big red and white tents, like in the movies. The Bearded Lady, Becky, she was one of the nicest people you’d ever meet.  The lions were my favorite.  The big one, his name was August, we’d go for walks together. I made friends with a trapeze artist, but one day she was up there doing a routine on the tightrope and she fell and there was a hole in the net.  She went right through.  Her name was Debbie.”

There was a hush, and then an older biker with a gray beard next to the blonde said, “that’s fucked up.”  

“How long were you with the circus?” Dino asked.

“Only a few months,” you cleared your throat.  “And then I was on the road for a while.”

“By yourself?” Steve’s voice was louder than he’d meant for it to be. 

You gave him a soft smile and a shrug.  “I’m always alone.”

What were the odds of two lonely fucks finding each other again the way you two had?  Steve was grateful for Robin and Eddie, they were his only constants.  

Robin had decided to stay home that night, to unpack some things and get her room situated again.  Steve made sure she bolted the door and told her to use his gun if Nic tried to come around.  

“She won’t,” Robin huffed, dumping the contents of her backpack onto the bed.  “That would imply she actually gave a shit about me.  She’ll have some new married woman from the bar in our bed by tonight, I’m sure of it.”

Back at the firepit, you got to your feet and Steve followed.  “Could you tell me where, um, the bathroom is?”

The bathroom wallpaper was blue and white striped with ducks in bow ties on the trim, something you imagined was there before Hopper moved in.  A mirrored medicine cabinet and a shower without a tub that had one of those frosted, glass front doors.  Besides some mustache/beard trimmings near the sink, it was a tidy place, and smelled of cleaning supplies.  You used the fairly new bar of green soap in the clear dish, and peeked around in the cabinet like any nosey person would.  

Steve was lingering in the carpeted hallway to hand you a fresh beer.  “Didn’t want you to get lost on the way back.”

There were photo collages in frames on the walls of what looked like Hopper’s extended family.  In one, he had his arms hooked over the shoulders of Steve and an older man in their Coffin Kings kuttes.  It might've been a decade old; Steve looked like a baby.

“How long have you and Hopper known each other?”

Steve let out a raspberry sound with his lips.  “Who knows, forever.  He’s been around since we were kids.”

He was just about to reach for the sliding door out to the back patio, when someone else pulled it open.  Shirtless in his boxers, with a yellow beach towel wrapped around his waist, stood the person you knew to be Eddie Munson.  Wet hair long over his shoulders with a handful of tattoos scattered over his torso, he was dripping wet, and in the middle of scowling about something you weren’t privy to.

“Hey man,” the two men bumped fists.  His eyes darted back and forth between the two of you.  “My beeper just went off, need to make a call real quick.”

Steve introduced you, praying to whatever god would listen that whatever Eddie had to do that night did not include needing his help.  

You saw the metaphorical lightbulb of recognition brighten above Eddie’s head.  “Oh shit yeah, I remember you.  You punched Danny Rogers right in the jaw once on the playground. Dude went down hard.”

Steve seemed to beam with pride at that, exposing his gold canine, but you shifted nervously.

“I don’t like violence,” you admitted.  “But he deserved it.”

Danny was one of those boys who liked to try and put his hand up girls shirts and make nasty rumors go around that one of them blew him in the supply closet.  They were only kids, and you didn’t even know what “to blow” someone meant at the time.  

Eddie shook his hair out like a dog. “Hey, I’ll catch you two out there in a minute, okay? Good to see you again, killer.”

It was dark enough that you could only see the shapes of the people in the pool, moonlight reflecting off the water, and felt the unmistakable weight of Steve leaning into you as you went through the door.  He slid it closed once you stepped onto the concrete slab, and then you turned, not realizing how close he was, and accidentally bumping chests with him.  

You didn’t move away, but you kept your head down until Steve put a finger under your chin to lift your gaze.  The porch light was out, allowing you an extra veil of privacy from the party, and you snaked a hand up over his ribs.

“Are you gonna run away this time?” He mumbled, staring at your mouth, his lashes fluttering.

He didn't know about your dream but somehow, he did.

“I thought we were going together?”

He wondered if you could feel him shaking. 

“I’m ready,” his mouth came down close enough to exchange oxygen with you.  You shifted closer, pulling him in.

But then he abruptly cleared his throat and turned his head.

“Not like this,” he rumbled, glancing at the rest of the party.  

“Not like what?”  You sought his hand and intertwined your fingers. 

He didn’t want to say out loud what he meant, that he wanted it to be special.  

He was revealing himself to you, these things he’d been taught to hide, the ways he daydreamed about how well he could love you, if only you’d let him.  If he could write for shit, he’d be one of those insufferable assholes scribbling out poetry in your honor.

He wasn’t like this with every woman he dated.

There was a special chemistry, something more spiritual than primal, that had only been activated in him a couple of times.  The last one was a while back and she took all of his trust; he was sure he’d never lean into that feeling ever again.  

Were the two of you dating? Is that what this was? Maybe the connection was all in his head and you were just going along for lack of things to do.

No, that wasn’t true.  He could tell you wanted that kiss.

He should’ve taken the chance…

Shit

But then you held his hand all the way back to the firepit, and that was something.  

----

Thank you for reading, I love you. Biker Steve will be back soon.