#biker!thor

[archivearts]

chris hemsworth and his harley davidson

[holylulusworld]

The hammer (7)

Summary: Thor is not the alpha you would never accept in your life. He’s also not the kind of alpha settle down. What happens when your worlds collide… 

Pairing: Alpha(Biker)!Thor Odinson x Omega!Reader

Characters: Steve Rogers Bucky Barnes, Clint Barton

Warnings: angst, a/b/o, language, pack dynamics, a/b/o dynamics, idiots in love, slow burn, a tiny hint of fluff, arguments

The hammer masterlist

Divider by @firefly-graphics​

<< Part 6

“You haven’t eaten all day,” Thor follows you inside the clubhouse. “We got some leftovers and I can make you a sandwich.”

“I had something at the hospital and a coke,” you mumble. You’re too tired to argue with Thor and just want to sleep. “Steve got me some cookies and a chocolate bar.”

“Steve,” the alpha snarls. “He’s got no clue what an omega needs. They are soft and weak. An alpha must make sure you eat enough to stay healthily. Feeding you sweets and cookies, he should know better.” Thor huffs.

“He only tried to be nice,” you snap at Thor. “You would’ve let me starve.” You grit your teeth and glare at Thor. “I liked the cookies.”

“I just offered food to you,” he’s in your face, breathing heavily. “Please excuse me that I was worried sick about my brother and forgot to offer biscuits and tea, my lady.”

“You’re such an ass.”

“You’re such a bi—” he bites his tongue. Loki made him promise that Thor won’t be an ass as long as you are around. “Do you want a sandwich now or not?”

You huff.

“Omega, don’t make me lose my temper. I promised my brother to have an eye on you and not yell at you. Don’t make me break that promise.”

“I want a sandwich and freshly pressed juice. Do you have fruits too?” you furrow your brows. “Do you even have a kitchen here?”

“Of course, we have a kitchen, woman!” he grunts. “We’re not some cavemen eating our food raw. We can cook our food.”

“They made fire, you moron,” you snap back.

“I know!” Thor growls loudly. His hands twitch and you fear he’ll just grab you and kick you out of the clubhouse.

“Five on Y/N,” Steve snickers as the pack enters the clubhouse only to watch you and Thor bicker again.

“Ten on Thor,” Clint grins as you poke your index finger into Thor’s chest.

“Twenty on Y/N,” Bucky gets his wallet out. “I bet she’ll go for his balls next. Do we have popcorn? This is the best show ever.”

“Shut up,” Thor snaps his head toward his pack. “What are you doing here? I told you to leave me and…” He swallows thickly as you roughly fist his jacket.

“You told them what?” you snarl. “That you want them to leave the clubhouse so you can get your knot wet? Did you think I’ll spread my legs for you only as you showed an ounce of decency today?”

“That’s not…fuck…little one,” Thor groans as you storm toward the staircase to walk upstairs and hide in Loki’s room. “I offered food to you! How can you turn this into something bad?”

“She’s an omega,” Clint shrugs. “Whatever you do is not good enough. You fucked up big time and now, she’s going to let you bleed until you made everything up to her.”

“I can’t wait to watch,” Bucky snickers. “Do we have popcorn or not? I need food for round two.”

“Punk, stop with the popcorn. Y/N is nice, and we don’t want her to get hurt,” Steve sighs as Thor storms toward the kitchen. “Great, now he’s mad again. I hope he doesn’t wreck more shit at the clubhouse. I just repaired the door.”

“So…fifty on Y/N?” Bucky asks, looking at his pack members. “Come on, guys. Let’s make this bet a little more interesting.”

“Fifty-five on Thor,” Clint offers, “and not a buck more.”

“Little one, open the door. I made you a sandwich,” Thor harshly knocks at his brother’s door. “Y/N don’t be stubborn. You need food. Loki will kill me if—” he huffs when you finally unlock the door to look at the plate in his hand.

“I’m not hungry,” you wipe your eyes. “Why don’t you eat it? I bet you spit on it and just wait for me to eat it.”

“You believe I’m the worst, huh? I only tried to be nice. For Loki. I don’t know why, but he likes you.”

“You’re an ass.”

“You’re still a brat but I won’t leave before you ate the sandwich and the fruits.”

You eye the plate again. He placed three strawberries next to a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. You’d like to giggle at his awful taste in food. 

“I’m not a kid. I hate peanut butter.”

“You’re not a kid, but are acting like one,” he grits his teeth. “Eat!”

“No!”

He steps closer to push the plate into your hands. “EAT!”

“No! I want…something else.”

“What do you want?” Thor is just done fighting. He rubs his face with one large hand, groaning as you keep on muttering. “Please just tell me what you want.”

“You said something about leftovers,” you mumble. “What do you have?”

“Bucky ate it all,” he shrugs as you whine. “He’s like a breathing food destroyer. If you think you got some food left, Bucky already ate it.”

“What else do you have?” you press on. 

“I got some snacks in my room. Nothing healthily, though,” he looks at the sandwich on the plate. His stomach rumbles and you remember, Thor didn’t eat anything at all today.

“You can have the sandwich and I’ll have a look at the kitchen,” you push the plate back into his hands. “But hands off the strawberries. These are mine.”

You point a finger at the tall alpha.

“I stole them from Natasha,” he sheepishly admits. “She wanted to make strawberry daiquiris. I snatched a handful.”

“You stole three, not a handful.”

“Some got…damaged,” Thor mutters. “I squeezed them too hard.”

“You got nothing in your fridge,” you sigh deeply as there is only beer, butter, and a half-eaten apple inside the huge fridge at the clubhouse. “What do you eat all day?”

“I told you, if you have Bucky around, your food will be gone before you can blink. He doesn’t eat food, he inhales it,” Thor opens the fridge to poke his head in. “There’s a glass of pickles and a cucumber.”

“It’s rotten. You should throw the cucumber away. And,” you make a retching noise, “the pickles don’t look better.”

“Okay. Then we got no food left,” he sighs and closes the fridge. “We could order food. I know some nice restaurants.”

“I need something light, but tasteful,” you hum. “It’s already so late.”

“Crab cakes!” he blurs out. “I’d kill for some crab cakes.”

“Crab cakes,” you lick your lips. “Maybe some sliced fennel too.”

“I’ll order…wait…” 

“HANDS OFF!” you were about to put your food on a plate when Bucky sneaked inside the kitchen to steal a crab cake out of the food container. “You got your own food, Barnes!”

“I’m still hungry,” he looks at the food again. 

“Take your hands off her food or she’ll stab you with a fork,” Thor grins. “Never underestimate a hungry omega, Bucky.”

“Shut up and help me bring the food to Loki’s room,” you eye Bucky warily. “I do not trust this man with my food. He already stole one crab cake!”

“I only stole one,” Bucky happily munches the stolen food. “Free food is the best…”

“Come in,” Thor grumbles. “It’s open.”

“Hi, uh—I didn’t want to disturb you,” you poke your head in. “You’re not masturbating, right?”

“No,” he rolls his eyes. “What’s wrong? Do you need anything? Did Bucky steal more of your food?”

“I looked at the bookmark again,” you clear your throat and look at the bookmark in your hands. “On the front stands my name in flowery letters, but on the back stands little one…” you close your eyes and huff. “Why did you say Loki bought it?”

“I-uh…I accidentally walked into that bookstore the other day,” he doesn’t look at you. “They make those. I asked them to make one for you.”

“Why?” you closed the door behind you and step further inside his bedroom. “You don’t like me. All we do is fight.”

“I don’t know,” he watches you step toward his bed. Your eyes drop to the free spot next to him and you whine as your omega is drawn to the alpha. “I just wanted them to make it.”

“Why?” dipping one knee into the mattress you look at Thor. “Thor?”

“I said—” the alpha mutters. “I don’t know. You frustrate me and arouse me at the same time. I want to strangle and kiss you. It doesn’t make sense!”

“It doesn’t make sense,” you kneel on the bed to look at Thor. “You’re an ass…and I don’t like you but…I…”

“I know little one. I know…”

>> Part 8

Tags in reblog.

[iamaburnedgiftedartkid]

Run, Chapter 6

Warnings - Mentions of Past Physical Violence, Physical Injuries, Minor Injury Description

You go to the shop and get bored and have a customer act weird because of your injuries. You help Wanda out and find out her brother is expected back tomorrow.

Sorry it's been so long I wish for no more curveballs. I'd just like to say thank you to anyone who still stuck around waiting.

You make your way into the bathroom, quickly changing into a gray henley and black jeans. You avoid the mirror, every bruise, cut, and burn threatens to drown you and drag you back to the moment they were inflicted. You try to avoid the cuts on your arms even as the sound of the beer bottle striking your face fills your ears with your heart beat, deep breath, focus. You pull your sunglasses out of your jacket pocket and slide them on. They don’t completely hide your face but they do hide enough to elevate some of your anxiety. You steel myself with a deep breath and head back into the bay. 

When you enter you see Bucky, Steve, and Wanda all talking quietly together, you can’t hear them but their bodies are tight with anger. You slow down, not sure if you should go to them but Steve looks up at you and straightens. You slump your shoulders, I probably left a bad impression with that customer. Everyone turns to look at you and you look toward the ground as you get closer to the group, “Sorry”, you say while fidgeting with your fingers. 

“Why do you have sunglasses on?” Bucky asks while crossing his arms over his chest. Wanda’s hand reaches for yours, stopping you from tearing at the skin on your fingers. “What happened up front earlier?” Wanda gently asks while rubbing circles onto your hand. Wanda tugs  at your hand and you look at her. “Why didn’t you tell me what that asshole said to you?” Wanda pry’s. You look back down unable to fidget, “it’s my own fault, I shouldn't have been up there. I-I just didn’t want to bother you while you were on the phone so I went up front. I’m sorry.” Steve lifts one of his hands to his head and sighs, you start trembling and take a step away from them, “I’m sorry I di-didn’t mean to mess anything up.” You frantically get out while raising your hands in surrender.  

“Hey.” Bucky says coming toward you and  grabbing your shoulder causing you to squeak out a panicked sound. Your eyes shoot to his in fear and you try not to cry but your breathing picks up, “Hey” Bucky says in a gentler tone while rubbing circles on your shoulder. “You did nothing wrong Doll. That guy is a dick. You can tell us if something like that happens okay? We’re not going to get mad at you or balm you.” Bucky finishes. 

You're shocked, “You’re not mad at me?” You glance at all of them, Wanda and Steve shake their heads. You look back at Bucky,”No I'm not and nobody else is.” He  says softly. The air whooshes out of you and a bit of hysterical laugh comes out, “I feel like I’m crazy.” You say quietly to yourself but in a quiet garage you might as well have shouted it. Bucky looks behind him to everyone else and Wanda, her eyes to yours, “I think you’re just traumatized, we can work on it.” She says. You're so taken aback by everything that is going  on you just shake your head in agreement. They all share another look and Wanda steps up to you, “Alright now that, that is all sorted. Me and you are headed back to the clubhouse to make lunch and take a break for a bit.” You look at Steve and Bucky and they both nod, “We’ll be there in about an hour for lunch.” Steve says, giving you a smile. 

“Alright” you say looking back  toward Wanda, who beams at you and excitedly drags you toward the back exit to where they park their bikes. You know Steve’s and Bucky’s bikes which just leave the Harley Davidson Sportster in burgundy that has runes on the tank that spell something out you can’t read. Wanda sees you eyeing her bike, “It says ‘Scarlet Witch’, it’s a nickname I have.” She says with a grin. You Smile back at her as she walks over and puts her helmet on. You wait for her to gesture for you to get on the back before hopping on behind her.

The ride back to the clubhouse was the same as last night. You and Wanda pull up and you see Chuck working outside. You get off the bike keeping your head down and following Wanda, when you glaze in his direction he looks at you in pure anger. I look away and follow into the club house. 

Wanda and you head into the kitchen where she starts talking excitedly about her brother returning tomorrow. “Where was he?” you ask a small pulling at your lips at her excitement. She pauses in pulling food out of lunch before turning toward you and stepping very close whispering in your ear, “you can't tell anyone.” she pulls back to look you in the eyes and you nod. She leans back into you, “He’s been undercover with a rival gang.” she whispers before turning around and continuing to excitedly talk about his return tomorrow and how there will be a party. 

You stay frozen  for a moment before your mind and catch up to the whiplash in the change of her talking. You walk up to her at the counter, “What are we making for lunch?” you say with a smile. She smiles  back at you, “Since we’re having a party tomorrow we will keep it simple with sandwiches, salad, and soup.” She says while pulling out what has to be 10 pounds of bread. She goes into what will be known as ‘mission mode’. She directs you around the kitchen with ease  even though you are a bit clumsy. She is right there to help you along with encouragement. Before you know it people have started coming into the kitchen and you and Wanda are done. You smile excitedly at one another before Wanda has a wooden spoon in her hand and in directing everyone like she was the first night you got here.

[openheart-odinson]

oooo i forgot about this one

biker!Thor moodboard anyone?

[childhoodcreativity]

(c) Charming

[ktspree13]

Still thinking about that thorki fic where bikergangleader!Thor kills a member with his bare hands for deigning to touch Loki. And his biker gang just rolls with it. And when Loki realizes it, it turns him on so much they have crazy sex with Thor still covered in the guy's blood.

[roughridingrednecks]

Franky

[lookslikethatsallthetimewehave]

Explore, Build, Destroy...

Wait is that a blimp

yes. But it can't be the regular one, it's too small!

[thorarms]

I think thor should get to wear a big metal codpiece more often. U know just for fun

[icarusredwings]

Getting deep into the x men fandom means seeing ships I don't agree with, so I don't interact, seeing posts that mischaraterizes one of the deepest charaters possible, so I don't interact, Seeing people actively say things that are blatantly wrong, so I don't interact.

Getting a large following is also kind of frustrating (Im not complaining I love you guys!) But I've had to block 2 people already today because they keep leaving rude replies to my comments on OTHER peoples posts or purposly come to my blog to tell me that how I view a charater is wrong. Had someone tell me that the stuff that happens in MY au is dumb because "that would never happen" like yeah bud. The writers at Marvel are too much of cowards for it to happen, hence why i'm here.

So my thing is... if im chosing not to interact with all of this- why is it still on my feed?

I feel like the more I ignore it the more I see and I do not wish to be the type to block someone simply because they make one post about a ship that personally isn't my cup of tea.

Also- I think Im starting to see the different sides of extremes, especially when it comes to one specifc charater.

Logan.

I have seen dozens of lovely stories, lovely rants, lovely head canons about this man-

But something that feels weird (to me at least) is people who are 45+ yelling at people who aren't even 18 that their story/headcanons are trash because they've "been enjoying Logan for 40+ years" as if this gives them any right to tell a 17 year old that they shouldnt write a charater how they see them.

It's also weird to me that there seems to be two sides.

Logan IS an animal and that's perfectly okay.

Or

Logan ISN'T an animal, and everyone who headcanons him as animalistic is fetishizing his mutation and are insulting him.

I get not liking a certain trope, but sir, that person is young enough to be your child. You have to accept that we all grew up with different versions of each charater. I Personally didn't grow up with any and get the luxury of indulging in all sorts of media all at once- therefore getting to see him from multiple sides and pictures.

I completely understand if you grew up with the original series and are upset to see that kids are headcanoning your stone cold angst biker man as wearing bow clips and 'making biscuits' on a pillow while watching gilmore girl with his boyfriend, and wearing pink fluffy hello kitty pants and a tight shirt that says "Milk"

I completely understand if you grew up with the movies and see him as a sexy gruff hot buff man and you love to write lots and lots of steamy x reader about him.

I completely understand if you LIKE logan wearing hello kitty pants and don't agree with the idea of him being a dark edgelord, lone wolf charater.

Do you know what I don't understand? Fighting over a charater when different timelines have been canon since the 80s. The Time Variance Authority (TVA) first appeared in Thor #372 (October 1986) which means ALL of your logans are the correct logan. Just not all the same.

Do I think Wolverine Orgins Logan would wear pink hello kitty pants? Nah.

Do I know that Deadpool and wolverine Logan is a whole different universe then Orgins Logan? Yes.

That's why people tag different logans and different aus. So what is all the fuss about?? What happened to the more the merrier?

Theres so many different versions of comic book logan, too, so don't even go there.

Feel free to ask my personal opinions but as far as I stand I could never be foolish enough to seriously go into someone elses post and genuinely be upset at them for how they perceive a charater. I get second hand embaressment when ever I see ANYONE doing it.

Thanks for coming to my ted talk. I don't care if I lose followers for this. Let the door hit you on the way out. There aint no reason to be harrassing folks.

[sashaisready]

This Must Be The Place: Chapter 3 - Head in the clouds

Biker!Bucky x Femme Reader

Back at your beloved late grandmother's home to pack up her house, you have a run-in with the town's biker gang 'The Howling Commandos' and find yourself entangled with the metal armed President.

Series Masterlist

Warnings for: drunk minor character, violence by a minor character to reader (she's okay!)

Thanks so much for the response to this story so far, so glad people are enjoying it. As always I appreciate reblogs and comments. Thanks! Also sorry for anything I get wrong about biker clubs/rules/rituals etc - just pretend that's how it works in this specific AU!

You’d been working at the bar for a few weeks and had just started to find your stride. You’d already whipped Tom, the blundering bartender from that first night, into shape by teaching him a few tricks of the trade. You’d even showed him how to make a couple of simple cocktails. Not that they were ordered much in a biker bar, but always good to have them in your back pocket. Sure, Tom would spill the syrup all over the bar and break at least one glass every shift…but he was trying. He was the brother of one of Bucky’s buddies and it was almost sweet the way Bucky wanted to help him out – even if it meant turning a blind eye to his often less-than-competent performance.

You’d also gotten to know more of the club and had learned about some aspects of the motorcycle club (or MC as they referred to it) and how it worked.

There was Steve of course, the no-nonsense blonde from that first night, Bucky’s righthand man. He was Vice President. Steve had been a little frosty with you initially but had warmed up and the two of you were becoming friends. You understood he was just a little protective, and that meant he was careful with outsiders and like to vet them first. He was strategic and careful, always one step ahead to ensure that the club were safe from potential threats. He didn’t always say much, but it was clear you’d know if he had a problem with you – so you settled into a quiet understanding with each other.

Bruce was the Treasurer, he was sweet and smart and easy to talk to. Sam was the Road Captain, he was amiable and easy-going, he teased you a little, but it wasn’t with any malice. You gave it right back to him, of course.

Nat, the beautiful redhead you’d seen playing darts, was the Sergeant-At-Arms, which apparently meant being the enforcer and keeping things in order. This had initially surprised you until you saw Nat in action whipping them into shape after some of them had a bit too much to drink one poker night at the bar – she was slightly terrifying, taking no shit from anyone. The whole MC respected (and were slightly terrified of) her… (maybe even Bucky). But the two of you got on well and she was sweet as pie to you, and you were always happy to have another friend.

Thor was the club Secretary, possibly the largest man you’d ever seen – well named. Until now you’d always associated secretaries with typing and pencil skirts – no more. Although seeing Thor in a pencil skirt would certainly be something.

Parker…or Peter, as you found out was his first name, was a recent prospect who had become a full member. He was still finding his way a little, and the others were still ribbing him, but he was sweet and enthusiastic, and you liked him a lot. The dart incident was all forgiven, although he still tiptoed around you a little despite your insistence everything was fine between the two of you.

You were still getting to know the other members – Scott, Clint, Loki, Drax to name a few…Then there were the hang-arounds – not members. Some were prospects but some were just buddies of the club. But Steve was very discerning about who they associated with, he would weed out any sycophants or creeps who just wanted the glory of an MC on their side. It was a whole new world, and you were still learning.

There were also a gaggle of girls who hung out at the bar most nights. They were sweet, some of them were involved with various members, some just wanted to be. All very pretty, very fun. They would drink and play bar games and keep the mood light. Perfectly nice to you, decent tippers.

It hadn’t bypassed your notice that Bucky, as President, was their ultimate target. They’d follow him around, laugh uproariously at his jokes and hang off his every word. Amber, who you’d sussed was their de facto leader of sorts, seemed to have staked some sort of claim. All blonde hair and long legs, skin that looked like an Instagram filter and tonight wearing a, frankly, gravity defying halter top. She’d give the other girls a certain look if they got too close to him and they’d dutifully scatter. Your instincts told you she was not someone you wanted on your bad side.

Bucky didn’t exactly deflect her advances. He’d grin at her with amusement when she would drape her long-manicured nails across his arm, whisper something in her ear that would make her giggle and playfully bat him away.

Which you were fine with.

Obviously.

It wasn’t like you had developed a huge crush on Bucky since you’d been working here, or anything like that.

You didn’t steal glances at him when he moved across the bar, his large, toned arms always bare under his kutte – one flesh, one metal. Some threadbare tee worn underneath, straining against his chest and impossibly flat stomach. Didn’t notice the way he’d absentmindedly brush his hair back out of his eyes, scoop it into a loose bun or small ponytail as he chatted. Definitely didn’t feel a little rush of giddiness when he’d lean over you to get to the cash register and you’d get a whiff of his cologne…

“Sugar? You still with us…?”

Your head snapped towards the intrusion, Bucky’s smile tearing you away from your little daydream as he leaned over the bar. Sometimes it seemed like he could read your thoughts.

“Uh, sorry,” you recovered, wiping down the bar with a washcloth. “Was just thinking I need to do inventory”.

He chuckled, “you work too hard, Sug”.

You smiled at one another for a moment before you saw Amber snake her hand around Bucky’s arm. “Buuucky”, she whined. “Come play pool with us,” she said pleadingly.

He looked at her then back at you, opening his mouth to say something before-

“Can I get a beer here or what??”

The three of you glanced down the bar towards the voice. A broad man in a trucker hat stood sullenly at the other end of the bar, gesturing dramatically at his empty bottle.

“Of course, sir, coming right up”, you chirped a little more cheerily than he deserved.

Bucky frowned. You knew that frown well already. He didn’t like the demanding customers who liked to bark their orders.

“It’s fine,” you told him softly as you pulled another bottle from the fridges. “I got this, you go play pool”.

He continued to frown but seemed to relax slightly at your words, looking over at the man sternly as he got up and Amber squealed excitedly at her victory.

Ugh.

“Just come get me if he gives you any shit” he said harshly as Amber tugged on him.

“You know I’ll give him shit right back if he does,” you winked.

“See? She’s a pro. Let’s GO” moaned Amber as she smiled sweetly at you before shoving him towards the pool table.

Bucky looked back at you for a second before the others cheered at his arrival and Sam handed him a cue. Amber had her hand on his back, rubbing it up and down.

You sighed and moved to hand the new beer over to the customer. You smiled and placed it down in front of him and in response he wordlessly tossed a bill from his wallet onto the bar. Charming. You peeled the money off and gave him his change from the register, then did your best to look busy as you kept an eye on the activity by the pool table.

Honestly, you didn’t know what was wrong with you. You were a grown woman, Bucky was your boss and you’d be out of here in no time anyway. Why were you feeling jealous of another woman about a man like this? You weren’t at school anymore. Grow up. The house was coming along nicely, it wouldn’t matter for much longer. You’d get over your crush and move on. You got the impression Bucky had a whole rotation of women…and that was perfectly fine. None of your business. Everyone knows getting involved with your boss is a terrible idea anyway…especially when that boss heads up a biker gang.

The next few hours passed uneventfully with a solid but not overwhelmingly throng of customers, the occasional whoop and cheer from the pool table as the club played and showed off.  You chatted with Nat for a while as she perched on a bar stool, then Vis and Wanda came by to see you which was sweet of them. Over in the corner, Amber was treating Bucky like a soldier back from battle solely because he’d potted a few balls.

The bar thinned out and only a few customers remained. You were at the bar by yourself just refilling the straw holders when a slurred voice interrupted you.

“Another fuckin’ beer” said the demanding customer from earlier, barely able to keep upright as he slammed his hand onto the bar.

What? No way had you served him that much. He’d had about 4 beers all night…What on earth-

“Sir…” you responded as he swayed and wobbled.

Just then, a small glass bottle fell out of his jacket and clunked hard onto the wood below. Ah, yes. That’ll be the culprit.

Your eyes flickered to the gang across the room who hadn’t yet noticed the small disturbance. You were tempted to call them over, but you didn’t want them thinking you couldn’t handle a single drunk guy.

“Sir…you’ve had enough. You need to go home,” you admonished. “You’ve brought outside liquor in here too and I’m not serving you anymore. You need me to leave, alright? I can call you a cab if you need-”

“Another beer…” he repeated, as if you hadn’t said anything.

“Sir, I told you – no. Now please leave,” you folded your arms, the annoyance of dealing with him all evening boiling over into anger. Maybe a little Amber frustration was there too.

“Ano-”

“No,” you cut him off. “Enough. Please go…”

“Listen here, bitch…” he pointed a dirty fingernailed hand at you. “If you don’t get me another beer-”

“You’re not getting shit, so save us both the trouble and get the fuck out before I get Security to throw you out. Hell, I’ll do it myself if I must” you spat back.

He stared back at you agog, seemingly surprised by your change in attitude. The confusion quickly shifted to rage, and it took a moment for your reflexes to catch up with your brain as he suddenly curled his fingers around the discarded glass bottle and-

You ducked, but unfortunately, a tiny bit too slowly. The bottle bounced off your forehead and hit the bar, shattering and sending little shards of glass into your arm. You stepped backwards in surprise and stumbled, crying out in pain as your lower back hit the bar shelf behind you.

You heard the stampede a second later, a flurry of leather and denim enveloping the bar as the man seemed to levitate – but in actual fact he’d been grabbed by Thor and unceremoniously hauled up by his collar. You briefly heard him stumble apologies, but the sound faded fast as Thor pulled him towards the door, flanked by Sam and Steve.

“Oh babe, I’m sorry we left you” said Nat who was leaning down in front of you and checking out your injuries. “You’re okay. I promise”.

You looked down at them too, your arm was bleeding slightly but didn’t look too rough. You couldn’t see your head but could feel a little lump forming. You didn’t feel pain, not really. The adrenaline of the shock saw to that.

“Why didn’t you call us over?? Jesus Christ, Sugar” Bucky chastised as he jostled past Nat and delicately moved your hair out the way to look at your head. You widened your eyes in surprise as he moved his face to yours, measuring your reflexes with his finger in front of your vision.

“I didn’t realise he’d flip…he was just drunk” you mumbled, slightly dazed for more reason than one. “I just told him to leave. I’m fine…”

“No, you’re not, you’re bleeding,” Bucky scoffed, carefully inspecting the cut on your arm.  “And maybe concussed”.

“Bucky…” you frowned.

“Don’t ‘Bucky’ me. You could’ve got really hurt. Why are you bouncing customers? That’s our job”. His tone was angry, condescending.

“Jeez I misjudged it, okay?” you scowled. “He seemed like a mouthy drunk is all. Don’t talk to me like I’m a baby..”

“I’m not! I just-”

“You were busy! I didn’t wanna interrupt…”

“Just playing fuckin’ pool, Sug! Not too busy to stop you getting brained by a bottle…”

“Alright, break it up you two,” Nat interjected. “We don’t need more trouble tonight”.

Bucky scowled but shut up regardless.

She squeezed your hand. “Let me take you in the back, we’ll get you cleaned up. And then let’s get you home, alright?”

You smiled at her, grateful for her kindness.

“No…I’ll take her” Bucky said. “Get over here…”

“Bucky…” you said with insolence.

But he just ignored you, grabbing your hand from Nat’s and dragging you to the back room.

“Buuuck,” whined Amber from across the room. “We still gotta finish the game”.

“Sam can take my shots” Bucky grumbled, continuing to pull you along without looking up.

“But-”

“Amber, what?! Can’t you see I’m busy here?” he spat, looking daggers over at her. “Ask Sam”.

She went quiet, then pouted and harrumphed. Bucky ignored her and kept going.

“Fuck, Sug,” he muttered. “What are we gonna do with you?”

*

[huffelpuff210]

Saving BikerBucky Barnes x Reader

Warning: Abuse, violence, forced relationship, obsession, rude behavior, age gap, don’t worry she’s legal!

Summery: In a small town where everyone knows everybody,The leader of the biker Gang Bucky Barnes takes a certain interest in you.

The music pounded as you’re heels click on the floor carrying a tray of drinks to the booth, You were a cocktail waitress at a strip club, You have worked here for three years now, The dress code you still couldn’t stand, but you made big money working here so it was tolerable, 

The outfit was tight black shorts where your ass almost spilled out, fishnet tights, a tight white button up blouse where your tits almost spilled out and black high heels, 

It was very revealing and uncomfortable not your style outside of work, but it payed the bills, after your mother died when you were 10 and your dad being the drunk that he was, you had to grow up faster than most kids, 

Taking responsibility for the house and expenses you got your first job when you were fifteen, at a small mom and pop store, a year later after the store closed down you were having a hard time finding another job you were desperate that’s when Thor the strip club owner offered you a job after hearing you plea with the small diner owner for a job, he over heard the conversation and offered you work, 

He is a awesome boss, and always gave you extra hours when you asked even last minute when you didn’t feel like going home to your drunk father. 

“Y/N!” You hear Peter the bartender yell over the music, 

“Yes?” You asked 

“Table three.” He says nodding towards the bunch of bikers, 

You nodded walking towards them, 

“Can I get you boys anything?” You asked 

“Just six beers.” Bucky says 

You nod, of course you knew him everyone did, he had a reputation but you were not scared of him, you had other fears, Your drunk of a father is what scared you, he would get drunk off his ass and would take all his anger out on you when you would get home, no sooner were you in the door you would get the shit beat out of you. 

You shake your head grabbing the beers and taking them to the table setting each beer down in front of each biker, 

“Thanks doll.” Bucky says 

You nod looking down at your watch, knowing you can’t prolong going home any longer if you kill another hour Thor is bound to drag you home himself, 

You make your way to the back room to get changed, in a pair of dark jeans, a white tank and a jean jacket, a pair of flats, You sigh closing your locker, grabbing your bag and walking out, milling your way past the crowd of people exiting the club and crossing the parking lot to your beat up 1994 blue beetle, It was your baby, you scrumped and saved for her, but some days you wish you would have gotten a new car because of all the repairs she needs all the time, 

You unlock the car, Just as you hear a crowd of people leaving the club seeing the bikers, You get in your car starting her up and making your way home hoping he’s asleep and not out somewhere causing problems. 

Bucky knew from the  moment he saw you he wanted you he wanted to know you, when your green eyes met his, He was absolutely fascinated by you, and god the way your tits almost fell out of your uniform didn’t help his desire for you, He followed you with his gang watching you get in your car and drive off, 

“She is a cute little thing isn’t she?” Sam says Bucky glares at him, yeah you were small if it wasn’t for the heels they made you look a little taller, but in Bucky’s mind you were already his girl,

You arrived home to find the house empty, a note on the fridge ‘Gone to Ikki’s don’t wait up’ 

Ikki’s was a small watering hole your father liked to frequent You looked at the clock it was already one in the morning, you sat in the chair as the clock approached two, 

Sure your father beat the snot out of you but you worried about other people in his wake especially if he would drive drunk, 

You got in your care driving to the small bar, as you parked the car you noticed all the motorcycles knowing there was gonna be bikers here too. 

You sighed slamming the car door, you really didn’t have the energy or patience for this you were tired and just wanted to sleep, You walk into the bar noticing all the bikers each of them eyeing you knowing you were out of place, your eyes scanning the room finding your father at the end of the bar.

He was drunk, swaying at the bar, you walked over to him whispering in his ear, 

“Come on dad I think you had enough.” You whisper 

“No I haven’t who are you to tell me I’ve had enough.” He slurred as he stood, 

You could feel eyes on you, 

“Yes you have let me drive you home.” You say placing your hand on his shoulder 

“Don’t fucking touch me!” He slurred as he shoved you, You barley moved since he was so drunk he lacked the strength 

“Dad come on I don’t have time for this.” you sighed placing a hand on his shoulder and that quick he backhanded you, 

“I told you not to fucking touch me.” He slurred he hit you so hard that you landed on the ground, that fast half of the bikers were on him.

“Get him the hell out of here.” You hear a familiar voice, 

“Are you okay doll?” You hear you look up to see Bucky holding out a hand for you, 

You nod taking his hand as he smiles down at you.

[artbyblastweave]

I'm not saying Old man Logan was a masterpiece but... c'mon it was very engaging for most of the run... right?

Oh, don't get me wrong, it's one of my favorite Millar comics. An elsworld before elseworlds totally ate the space, or alternatively an imaginary story 40 years too late. "Keep Making Noises" lives rent free in my head as The Hawkeye Line of all time. Venom T-Rex, Thor's hammer as a site of post-apocalyptic messianic pilgrimage, Dead Giant-Man as part of the landscape, Moloid apocalypse, brutal biker gangs clad in the aesthetics of 90s antiheroes with no understanding of what drove those people. SHEILD as the gestapo after the regime change. It's full of incredibly potent imagery and ideas.

But. If you write a comic that involves cannibal incest hulk and a woman called "Spider-Bitch" you are not beating the "trashy fun" allegations, sorry!

[holylulusworld]

The hammer (8) - FIN

Summary: Thor is not the alpha you would never accept in your life. He’s also not the kind of alpha settle down. What happens when your worlds collide… 

Pairing: Alpha(Biker)!Thor Odinson x Omega!Reader

Characters: Steve Rogers Bucky Barnes, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff

Warnings: angst, a/b/o, language, pack dynamics, a/b/o dynamics, idiots in love, implied smut, nakedness, fluff

Divider by @firefly-graphics​

<< Part 7

The hammer masterlist

“Do you think he strangled her?” Bucky whispers as Clint and Natasha press their ears to the door to Thor’s bedroom. “Hmm…I hear him whisper.”

“Shhh…not so loud. I can’t hear a thing,” Natasha tuts. “Wait, he said something about her scent. Uh-I think he likes it.”

“You think?” Bucky cocks his head. “What’s that supposed to mean? Does he like it or not? Let me do this.”

Bucky shoves Clint aside to take his place. “Hmm…” he closes his eyes and tries to follow your conversation with Thor. “She said that Thor is tall…”

“We already know that he’s tall,” Steve grunts. “That’s no new information. Lemme handle this. Out of my way.”

Natasha punches Steve’s back after he shoved her out of his way to press his ear to the door. “Do you hear anything?” Sam asks as he watches Bucky and Steve spy on you and Thor. “Guys?”

“I think she just mewled or something,” Bucky mutters. “Shut up, I can listen to you and them at the same time. I want to find out if they made up.”

“Stop talking, Buck. I can’t hear them anymore!”

“What’s going on? Is something wrong with Thor?” you ask. Everyone stiffens. The little pack slowly turns around to face you. You take a bite of the toast you made, humming as they just stare at you.

“Uh-if you are out here. Who’s inside the room with Thor?” Bucky asks. He fears Thor made another dumb mistake and invited an omega to his room.

“He’s in the shower,” you reply before taking another bite of your toast. “I got hungry, he too. I offered to get food before having a shower too. I hope he didn’t waste all the warm water.”

“Oh. OH!!!” Steve’s eyes widen. “That punk is masturbating while imagining you are with him! He tricked us all, guys.”

“STEVE!” the rest of the group groans. “What’s wrong with you? You can’t just say things like that!”

“Uh-huh,” you shrug and eat the rest of your toast. “I don’t think so. Thor doesn’t even like me. He’s always grumpy, mean, and broody around me. Why would he do such a thing?”

“It’s not necessary to like someone to screw their brains out,” Clint throws in. He smirks and drops his eyes to your legs. “I don’t even need a name.”

“Gross,” you scrunch up your nose. “One more reason to dislike alphas. You only want one thing – to get your dick wet. None of you cares for an omega. Disgusting.”

“Wait, he’s sorry,” Steve tries to stop you. “We all are.”

“I don’t care,” you snap at Steve. You open the door to Thor’s bedroom and step inside, slamming the door in their faces. “Vultures, all of them.”

“Something wrong, little one?” Thor hurriedly walks out of the shower, wearing nothing but a small towel slung around his hips. “What happened?”

You swallow thickly.

Without his clothes on Thor looks even more tempting than before. His chest  even seems to glisten in the sunlight shining through the window.

His muscles flex with every step, and you are mesmerized by the tattoo on his chest. A large hammer. One you saw before somewhere. You can’t remember where at the moment because your brain doesn’t cooperate.

You’re too busy ogling the alpha to realize he gets closer to cup your cheek.

“Y/N, you with me? What happened? Are you hurt? Did someone hurt you?”

“No…I mean…” you knit your brows together, fighting to remember why you were mad in the first place. “You’re half-naked.”

“I was under the spray and jumped out when I heard you,” he tries to defend the lack of clothing. “Sorry. I didn’t want to scare you.”

“Scare me?” confused you drop your eyes from his face to his chest, and lower to his crotch. You roam his perfectly shaped form with curiosity and hunger. “You look…”

“Little one,” he smirks now. “Your eyes are a little glassy and I’m sure you smell like you just soaked your panties.”

“You’re rude, and a brute,” you mutter but lift your hand to run it over his still-damped chest. “Did you at least leave some warm water for me?”

“We can shower together, Y/N.”

Damn, that bastard. He batts his eyelashes to shake off a few droplets of water.

You lift your head to look him straight in the eyes and say, “If you are brave enough, alpha.” You love to challenge the alpha, so you hold his gaze and wait for him to leave the showers to you.

“Remember,” his hands shoot toward your waistline to bring you to his chest. You squeal, and cry while weakly pressing your hands against his chest. “You asked for this, little one. If you get in that shower with me, things will happen.”

“Things?”

“Mostly my thing getting even harder to ruin this sweet cunt of yours,” he purrs in your ear. “If you don’t want me to lay claim on you and your sweetness, say it now or I’ll release the beast…”

“Can you hear something? Buck?” Steve grunts as his friend won’t answer. Bucky presses his ear harder against the door. He growls low in his throat, and his pants grow tighter. “Holy fuck. I should…”

“You should what?”

Steve watches Bucky step away from the door. He shakes his head before hurriedly walking away. “Buck? What did you hear?”

“They are mating,” Natasha concludes without hearing a single sound coming from Thor’s room. “I bet Bucky went to his room to take care of the problem in his pants.”

“Right there. A little to the left,” you demand. “A shame you don’t have a loofah.” You grumble as Thor washes your back with a washcloth. “The washcloth is scratchy.”

“I usually don’t scrub someone’s back. They go home after we…,” he huffs, and bites his tongue. Thor carefully moves the washcloth over your skin, drinking every inch of naked skin in. “So, now that I saw your back and tush, can I see more of you, omega?”

“I consider letting you see one boob,” you smirk to yourself when Thor growls behind you. His left-hand shoots toward your chest to grope one of your tits. “Little one, I saw every inch of you last night. And I touched it too. I even tasted you.”

“No, you didn’t. It was dark and a blanket covered half of my body,” you insist. “If you tell anyone I let you see me naked I’ll castrate you.”

“Omega,” his laughter rumbles in his chest. “You’re so cute. I think everyone heard you mewl for me like a cat in heat. You even got on hands and knees for me.”

“If,” you twirl around to jab your fingers into his chest, “you tell anyone what we did, and what I let you do to me, I’ll cut your cock off.”

“You’re feisty too,” he grins. “Don’t make me use my alpha voice to tame you, little omega. I won’t have you near my cock again if you don’t listen to me.”

“I won’t have you near my pussy again if you don’t stop nagging. You big grump,” you hold his gaze. “I won’t have my alpha order me around. Forget it.”

“I tamed you once,” he moves his hand over your belly down to your crotch, “I’ll do it all over again. Let me feed the kitty…”

When Loki finally is allowed to leave the hospital, a week after you got more than close to his brother, you watch the raven-haired omega size his brother up.

“Brother,” Loki huffs. “You couldn’t keep your hands to yourself. I knew the moment I’m out of the picture you will sink your teeth into Y/N’s neck. You brute.”

“Uh-I’m right here, Loki and,” you chew on your thumb, glancing at Loki. “It wasn’t Thor’s fault alone. We are true mates and we got closer after your accident. Come here, I’ve missed my friend.”

Thor squares his jaw when you pounce on his brother to wrap Loki in a hug. “I’ve missed you too, pretty girl. I hope my brother acted like a gentleman around you.”

“Loki. Don’t.”

You feel Thor before he wraps his thick arm around your waistline. He gives Loki a stern look and snarls at your friend. All to make sure Loki knows his brother laid claim on you.

“Loki my dear, I’m sorry for my grumpy alpha. I haven’t taught him manners yet. He’ll soon adapt and become a gentleman…” You pat the arm tightening around your waistline. “Right, Thor? You are going to be a good alpha for me.”

Loki smiles fondly as he watches you lean in his brother’s embrace. “I knew I’ll get them together,” he exclaims as the pack watches you crawl into Thor’s lap to sniff at his neck.

“You only had to get yourself almost killed,” Bucky huffs. “Next time, let us handle this.”

“There’s not going to be a next time, Bucky. Thor mated her. The deed is done.”

Loki leans back and enjoys being back at the clubhouse. His heart swells as you snuggle into his brother’s chest.

“I think the hammer finally got tamed,” Steve muses. “Good job, Loki. I think we won’t have to fix broken doors anymore.”

“I’m not sure about that, punk,” Bucky chews audibly on the food he stole from you. “Y/N will give Thor a run for his money…”

FIN

Tags in reblog.

[marvelstoriesepic]

Breaking Chains (3)

Pairing: Biker!Bucky x reader

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

Chapter word count: 6k

Warnings: mentions of a toxic relationship; mentions of an accident (no explicit content); self-loathing; self-preservation (reader and Bucky)

Author’s note: Here’s the third part my people! Hope you enjoy the little lone time with Bucky :) Let me know if y’all want to be added to the tag list.

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Laughter pulsated through the air, echoing off the walls and mingling with the soulful tunes emanating from the jukebox. Slight off-key singing wove its way through the dimly lit room of the bar, creating a harmonious backdrop.

Glasses, adorned with frothy beer clinked together, liquid slouching over the rims. Patrons sat shoulder to shoulder, their arms interlinked and swaying to the gentle rhythm, while others tapped their fingers on the bar counter.

You lost count of how many glasses you filled this evening, the bar being crowded with men and women enjoying their time. It was stressful but in a good way. The anxiety that had clung to you like a stubborn shadow since you left Michael was forgotten, shoved back into the recesses of your mind. If only for a momentary reprieve.

As you wiped down the counter in front of you, the damp cloth leaving streaks on the polished wood, an empty beer glass materialized before you, its base meeting the wood with a muted thud. A deep, slightly slurred voice accompanied it.

“Fill that up again, sweets, will ya?”

You looked up then, seeing Will - as he had told you the first time you served him beer - leaning on the counter in front of you. He was surely about ten years older than you, his smile a little crooked and his brown eyes, though a little unfocused from the many rounds you had poured him, still held a glimmer of charm.

He was harmless though, you were sure of it. All he did was throw you a wink when you handed him his beer back, his eyes not flying to your chest and his lips remained untouched by his tongue. He was just here to flirt a little - a harmless way to pass the hours. He didn’t make you uncomfortable and he gave a great tip, so you didn’t even have to force out a smile in return. It was endearing, really.

Yet, Sam beside you, filling a glass himself; shot you a quick, cautious glance to check in on you and it made warmth rise within you.

You had been pouring drinks for about three hours now. Steve was the one to show you around earlier the night since Sam was busy bartending. Said guy had thrown you his bright, toothy smile and a wink from behind the counter when you entered the bar for your first shift.

Steve had introduced you to a few of the bikers of the gang, lingering in the bar right now. You had recognized the three guys you saw the first time at the bar at the dartboard and learned them to be Thor, Clint, and Tony.

The blond hair, mountain of muscle - Thor - crushed you in a bear hug that threatened to squeeze the breath from your lungs, claiming you were practically one of them already. Clint rescued you from the momentary shock of Thor's unexpected embrace with a witty joke that had you laughing, Clint seemingly pleased with himself. Tony's gaze had swept over your figure briefly, his smile a practiced curve as he introduced himself. They seemed to be nice people. You heard Thor's boisterous laugh every now and then from behind the bar counter.

Nat, the only woman of the gang was absent tonight, off on business, Steve had told you.

Bucky wasn’t around either, you had noticed - ignoring the fact that your gaze swept the room, seeking out his brooding figure, clad in all black - who had haunted your thoughts since the first time you’d seen him. Steve didn’t mention him and you didn’t ask.

The bar elicited an unexpected ease that enveloped you and settled in your stomach, spreading within your body. Sam's unconventional 'job interview' at the gardening store had been a whirlwind of spontaneity, yet it led you here and you couldn’t be any more grateful for the guys. Steve had welcomed you with his gentle smile and his glinting blue eyes. He treated you like an old friend coming home from a long journey.

It had barely been a week since you came back to your hometown and the sense of comfort it already restored was almost overwhelming. The bar's cozy ambiance wrapped around you - the creaks of leather booths, the soft murmur of conversations and shared laughs, the scent of aged whiskey. It was a refuge from the chaos that had torn through your life, leaving you battered and bruised - literally.

Having had more time to take in the walls, you let your gaze sweep over the photographs adorning it. These weren’t just random snapshots; they were glimpses into the gang’s history - them standing together, faces etched in laughter.

But one picture held you captive. You looked at Steve and Bucky, arms slung over each other’s shoulders, caught mid-laugh. Steve faced Bucky and Bucky's head was thrown back, eyes squeezed shut. Laugh lines formed at the corners of his eyes and the edges of his mouth pushed high up his rosy cheeks. He looked so carefree and unguarded in this picture and it lured you in, almost feeling like you were intruding into something intimate.

It made you wonder if you ever were to see him laugh like that in person.

You deftly poured the next rounds of beer. The patrons around you blurred into a sea of faces, their features indistinct, lost in the swirl of conversation and clinking glasses as Bucky’s brooding presence lingered in the corners of your mind. Your eyes scanned the worn leather seats sagging under the weight of countless patrons in search of his stoic figure, his cerulean eyes shadowed by mystery.

At the dartboard, its surface pockmarked with missed shots and bullseyes, stood a rowdy group huddled around it, their laughter punctuated by the thud of darts hitting the board. But Bucky was conspicuously absent like he had been for the last hours.

Remembering the hidden staircase he descended from on the day you met, your eyes flickered to the wooden steps. The dim light of the bar cast elongated shadows, making the steps appear eerie.

Wanda had told you that one of the guys lived above the bar and you wondered if it might be him and if, perhaps the stairs led up to the apartment.

Silver rings knocking on the counter ignited you to swirl back to the front, where an impatient woman stood before you, her dark eyes boring into your skin and you gave her an apologetic smile, quickly beginning to fill up her drink. You poured a little extra into her glass and she seemed to be pleased, gaze softening into a half-smile and a curt nod.

As she retreated, you noticed Sam looking at you out of the corner of your eyes. There was an unreadable glint in his eyes and that smirk you came to like but it made an uneasy chuckle spilling from your lips as you raised an eyebrow at him.

“What?” you asked, your voice a soft challenge.

Sam shook his head, eyes flickering towards the floor for a split second before coming back up to you. He considered you for a moment and you couldn’t read his expression. You hated when that happened. It left you feeling defenseless. When his eyes flickered to the staircase over your shoulder, the same you’d fixated on earlier, he spoke without taking his eyes off it.

“He doesn’t really come down here.”

His voice was strangely soft, considering it was Bucky he was talking about. He seemingly talked about Bucky gentler than he did to him.

“He’s not exactly a guy for crowds,” he explained, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, “never has been. But he still plays his role here. We all are.”

He told you that everybody in the gang had their part in managing the bar. Tony was the brains - navigating the labyrinth of paperwork, licenses, and permits required to keep the place afloat. Steve and Pietro took care of the kitchen, keeping it clean and preparing snacks. Thor was the bouncer, practically towering above everyone and seeing everything - he took care of heated situations and rowdy drunks feeling too comfortable being inappropriate. Clint took care of the light and music and helped out Sam behind the bar when he was needed. Nat took care of business beyond the walls of the bar, but Sam didn’t elaborate on that.

And then there was Peter. He was still in college but helped out as a barback - stacking crates and polishing glassware. Sam mentioned that his aunt was worried he might get tangled up in dangerous affairs, but Peter seemed insistent on at least helping out a few times a week. You hadn’t met him yet, but Sam laughed as he told you he was a bubbly kid, always eager to help out.

Bucky took care of deliveries and closed up the bar after everyone left, cleaning it for the next day. He liked it that way - needed it even, although he would never admit it - Sam told you, and since he lived right above the bar it was practical for the rest.

You wondered why Bucky was the one living above the bar when he was craving solitude and silence, and how it came to that arrangement. It could have been a coincidence or he offered to take the place so nobody got disturbed and fleeing arguments.

But maybe, you pondered, he actively desired it - the rhythmic symphony of laughter and songs, clinking glasses, and animated conversations. You knew all too well that being alone and being lonely was a whole different thing. Perhaps he found solace in the cacophony, using the noises from below to keep himself anchored. Sitting in silence, alone with your thoughts could be scary. Perhaps he craved proximity to the motley crew he might consider his family, without the obligation of direct interaction.

You didn’t know if that was true, he was a complex man.

But you would understand.

You observed Sam talking with keen interest, captivated by the way he wove his words. His voice carried a warm fondness, a sense of ownership that resonated through the room. The pride he felt for this place was palpable. The smile on his lips remained unwavering as he fluidly balanced glasses, wiped the counter, and served the regulars all while talking to you - It made you understand why Sam was the bartender.

The bell above the bar’s entrance chimed once again, its sound slicing through the air. The patrons, caught up in their own worlds of laughter and conversation, remaining blissfully ignorant of its intrusion.

You envied it.

Every time that bell went off, a jolt went through you, an electric shock that reverberated through your nerves. You forgot how it felt like not to be afraid all the time - the constant, gnawing fear that clung to you like dampness. The fear that made you startle at the slightest noise, your heart racing as if it were trying to escape your chest. It seemed like such a long time ago when you weren’t jumping at shadows, at the rustle of leaves, at the creak of a floorboard.

The bar did offer a sanctuary. It cocooned you to some extent, keeping you busy enough to not lose yourself inside your mind. You could laugh with Sam and the smiles you threw the patrons while preparing their drinks were genuine enough.

But you knew that healing wasn’t a swift process. It didn’t happen overnight, especially not when Michael was out there and might find out about your whereabouts at any given moment. And maybe the next time the bell tinkled, it would indicate his figure walking through the doorway.

Acknowledging the woman who had entered the bar, you watched her walking in your direction. Her red hair cascaded around her face, framing sharp features. The corner of her lips was slightly lifted and her gaze was surprisingly clear through the chaotic ambience around you.

The leather jacket she wore reminded you of the ones the other bikers were clad in and you remembered her from the photographs on the wall you looked at earlier. She was Nat, as Steve and Sam had referred her to - a member of the gang.

You busied your hands by wiping down the counter as she drew closer. The smirk on her lips widened and she unabashedly assessed you from head to toe. Leaning her elbows on the counter, she exuded a natural confidence. There was a time when you wore the same swagger but now you felt unsettled under her gaze.

“I see why you gave her the job so easily, Wilson,” she drawled, her eyes shifting toward Sam with a playful glint.

Sam shook his head while his eyes rolled back and he pointed a finger at her, the towel in his hand swinging with his movement. “Be thankful she’s good, or you’d be in her shoes right about now.” His tone lacked any kind of malice, a playful smile sporting his lips.

Nat chuckled lightly and her eyes locked on yours again. “Call me Nat,” she offered, her smile turning genuine. She extended her hand and you met it with your own as you told her your name.

“Oh, I know,” she conceded, the smirk returning.

Just then, Steve emerged from the kitchen, his eyes landing on Nat at the bar and she pivoted toward him. You watched him raising an eyebrow - a question she seemed to understand - and she responded with a subtle shake of her head.

“All clear,” you heard her murmur, before another customer beckoned and you were forced to return to your task, pouring liquid with practiced ease.

****

Sam had rung the bell for the last call ten minutes ago and patrons stumbled out the door, their voices fading into the night as they disappeared down the cobblestone street. The air was thick with the lingering scent of whiskey and beer.

Sam had insisted you leave a few hours ago, but the bar was bustling until the end and you didn’t want to leave him alone. You had met his chastising glances with determined smiles and brushed off his concern. And although he was reluctant, his gratefulness was clear.

“You’re a stubborn one,” he had grumbled, but his eyes were soft. “Thought I’d only have to deal with Bucky.”

Glasses clinked as you restocked the shelves and Sam finished off the counter. You started wandering the room - Tables were littered with half-empty glasses and crumpled napkins. You paused at one and reached for the glasses when a voice startled you.

“Let me.”

Nearly knocking the glasses off the table, you were about to collect, you whipped around and there was Bucky - dressed in his signature black attire, hair tucked neatly behind his ears. The hand that had reached out in your direction fell back to his side, and his face wore an apologetic wince.

You shifted on your feet uncomfortably, cheeks flushed at the embarrassment of your jumpiness. You didn’t even hear him coming down the stairs.

“Oh, no it’s fine. I can get those,” you said, hoping your voice didn’t come out wavering.

“You’re stealing his job, sweets,” Sam called from the bar. “Cleaning up is all he’s good for.”

Bucky sighed but his attention remained fixed on you. “You don’t have to do this,” he claimed, voice gentle.

“I’m happy to help, really,” you insisted, meeting his eyes briefly before picking up the glasses and walking back to the bar.

“Let her, man. She’s as stubborn as you are,”Sam called out with a laugh.

As you all worked together to tidy up the bar, the atmosphere settled into a comfortable rhythm. You cleaned the glasses, while Bucky placed more on the counter from the tables and booths scattered around the room.

Silence settled over you as you worked and when you finished restocking the freshly cleaned glassware, your gaze shifted to Bucky, who was diligently wiping down the tables, his back to you. He looked more at ease than you’d ever seen him. His shoulders weren’t rigid, and his movements weren’t as tense as they normally were. You couldn’t take your eyes from his relaxed state.

Curiosity tugged at your insides as you noticed him wearing that glove on his left hand again. He never seemed to put it off. Though, you couldn’t delve deeper into the topic because Sam was watching you. Anticipating the usual playful or teasing smile, you met his gaze, but instead, his features held a softness - a fondness that seemed to reach deeper. There was something in his expression you couldn’t unravel and it made you turn away again.

A few more minutes spent in silence passed before Sam clapped his hands together after stowing away the broom. “Alright, ladies, I’ve got to head out,” he announced, slipping into his coat.

You caught Bucky stilling in his movements from the corner of your eye.

“Do you want me to give you a ride home, Y/n?”

Sam looked at you expectantly, his question sincere and his gaze soft, but you hesitated. You felt like you couldn’t accept his offer, and honestly, the thought of getting on a motorcycle made your stomach churn, so you waved him off with a smile. “That’s nice Sam, but I’ll just walk. I’m not too far.”

“You shouldn’t walk home,” Bucky chimed in as he stepped closer, his gaze locking onto yours. You had a hard time holding it. His expression was serious, yet somehow still soft, although the dim light traced the edges of his jawline, accentuating its sharpness. The cloth he had used to wipe down the tables dangled from his fingers.

“I hate to say this, but I agree with Barnes here. It’s dark and it’s pretty late. You shouldn’t walk.”

Your gaze returned to Sam, still standing at the entrance. “I could just call Wanda, I’m sure she’ll pick me up,” you said, a shy smile gracing your lips. You didn’t want to inconvenience anyone - a sentiment Michael had ingrained in you.

Sam shook his head, about to respond, when Bucky interjected.

“I’ll walk you.”

You blinked.

Sam blinked.

“There’s no need to ask Wanda. We let her walk over to take care of Pietro lots of times already. So I’ll just walk you,” he explained, his words casual, yet underlaying with a kind of nervousness that was endearing to you. He looked tense again, with his left hand tucked in his pants pocket, while his right fisted the fabric of the cloth. His eyes darted around the room slightly, before they met yours once more.

You cast a swift glance at Sam, who stood there with his arms crossed, thoroughly entertained. Then, your attention turned back to Bucky. “Are you sure? I mean, you’re practically home already, I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

Bucky shook his head slightly, his hand waving in a dismissive gesture. “I don’t mind,” he assured you and a gentle smile tugged at his mouth.

You held his gaze, searching for any hint of insincerity. His eyes were dark in the shadows of the bar, but they still held the depth you came used to by looking at them. He looked at you as if it were your choice - as if it were merely an offer you could take up. It had been a while since you got to make your own decisions and you took a second, glancing at the ground to absorb this weight.

These people, strangers just days ago, had embraced you with open arms and it stirred something within you. Bucky’s gentleness, the way he looked at you thawed the ice around your heart.

Sam shifted from the entrance after you took a few seconds too long to answer. “Well, you kids go figure that out. I’m leaving,” he declared, throwing open the door. His smirk lingered as he glanced back at the two of you before stepping out into the night with a playful goodbye on his lips.

The door swung shut and the silence hung over you again. You shifted on your feet, nerves fluttering. Bucky’s gaze remained patient as you met them again.

“Well, uhm,” you began, your voice coming out a touch uncertain. “If you’re sure…” The words hung in the air, a tentative acceptance. Bucky’s response was immediate, his smile widening - a confirmation that sent warmth blooming within you.

“Give me a sec,” he said lightly, already moving to get rid of the cloth in his hand and getting his coat to slip on.

The solitary figure of Bucky’s motorcycle occupying the place in front of the bar caught your attention immediately after Bucky held open the door for you and your worn shoes met the pavement outside. Earlier in the evening, it had been one among several parked bikes, but now it stood alone since everybody in the gang went home.

The sleek, matte black frame of the bike seamlessly merged with the surrounding darkness, save for the occasional glint of metal catching the faint glimmer of moonlight. Your gaze lingered on the machine for a few seconds. You took in the curve of the handlebars, the gleam of chrome accents against the black backdrop, and the pronounced dent in the front that stood out in the soft glow of a lamppost a few feet away.

“Lead the way,” Bucky said quietly, extending his arm for you to step forward. With a faint smile on your lips, you glided past him and he was quick to follow, making sure to match your pace as he fell in step beside you.

Silence hung between you, but it wasn’t as awkward as you had anticipated. Bucky took a deep breath beside you, taking in the scents of the night, as you took in your surroundings. A shiver ran down your spine, both from the cool night air and the unexpected closeness to Bucky as he steadily walked beside you, his worn leather jacket almost brushing against your own coat.

In Seattle, the night was always alive with activity - the honking of cars, the murmur of voices from nearby restaurants and bars, the rhythmic beat of music drifting from open windows. The air was filled with the rich aroma of coffee, intermingled with the savory scent of street food. The streets bustled with people and passing cars that left whiffs of exhaust for you to smell.

Here though, the air is quiet, carrying a crisp and clean scent. There was the gentle chirping of crickets and the occasional hoot of an owl echoing in the distance. Bucky’s boots made a steady, rhythmic thud against the pavement, punctuated by the soft shuffle of leaves as you both walked side by side.

The silence between you felt almost intimate and you assumed Bucky felt the same as he softly cleared his throat beside you. His voice was quiet when he finally spoke, as if not wanting to disturb the peacefulness that surrounded you.

“So, how long do you know Pietro and Wanda?”

His gaze remained fixed ahead, on the darkened storefronts lining the street. You stole a quick glance at him, captivated by the way the moonlight sculpted the planes of his face. He maintained a relaxed posture, hands tucked casually into his pockets, his expression relaxed.

It was nice seeing him like this. You didn’t know where this feeling came from, since he was still a stranger to you, but seeing him this comfortable left your heartbeat pick up, the usual stoicism and scowl on his face lost in the soft breeze of the wind that brushed by, and let you shiver slightly.

You took a breath to answer him. “We met in elementary school,” you answered, a faint smile touching your lips. “And have been friends ever since.”

You caught Bucky’s nod from the corner of your eye. A low hum escaped his throat, the sound almost swallowed by the darkness.

“I hope Pietro doesn’t cause you guys any problems,” you mused, your gaze fixed on the cracked sidewalk ahead. The rhythmic crinkle of Bucky's leather jacket reached your ears and you tried to suppress the jolt, that ripped through you when it lightly brushed against your own coat.

“Nah,” Bucky replied, his voice a touch deeper, “he’s a good guy. Helps out as much as he can.”

It was your turn to nod as an answer.

Somewhere between the life you left behind with your hometown and this new, uncertain existence, the ability to weave words and spark conversation had deserted you. The vibrant, witty you of your old life was a stranger now, replaced by a hesitant shadow. You were drowning in unspoken thoughts and questions, the weight of them settling heavily on your shoulders.

Yet, Bucky’s presence ignited a sliver of comfort within you, and a sense of relief washed over you. He didn’t seem to mind the quiet or the lack of an answer from you.

The silence stretched for a beat, punctuated only by the crunch of your footsteps on the sidewalk. Then, Bucky swallowed and began talking again.

“I’m sorry about Sam,” he started, his voice gruff. “He can be…a bit much sometimes. Talks a lot. And doesn’t really care about boundaries.” A sigh escaped him, and you stole a glance upwards to see him grimace in apology as he looked down at you.

You huffed out a laugh, looking back down at the sidewalk. “Oh no, it’s fine.” A smile played on your lips. “I actually like him.”

Bucky chuckled slightly, a deep rumble that echoed from his chest, vibrating through your own body. It only lasted a second, but that sound would stay with you longer after this conversation ended, you were certain.

“Don’t let him know,” he warned, a smile in his voice. “It takes one pretty girl telling him she likes him and his ego bursts.”

You darted a surprised glance up at him, his words sinking in. Did he just call you pretty? As if realizing the same thing a bashful smile spread across Bucky’s cheeks. His gaze darted upwards, feigning interest in the moon casting its silvery glow upon you both.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you laughed lightly, your voice laced with a newfound warmth. A pleasant heat spread through your chest at his comment and his lightly flustered state. You couldn’t help but steal another glance at him. Bathed in the moonlight, his features seemed even more striking, the sharp angles softened by the slight curve of his lips, a little contemplative. He was beautiful.

You blinked surprised at the familiar brick facade of your apartment building looming ahead already. The walk with Bucky had been so comforting, time melted away under his presence.

Coming to a slow stop, you turned to him.

“Well, uhm, this is me,” you stated softly, gesturing towards the building with a tilt of your head.

Bucky mirrored your halt, his body turning slightly to face you fully.

“Thank you for walking me home,” you said sincerely, a grateful smile gracing your lips. “You really didn’t have to, but I truly appreciate it.” Your fingers fidgeted with the fabric of your coat.

Bucky’s smile mirrored yours and he shuffled on his feet slightly. “It’s no problem at all, Y/n.” Your name on his lips sent a pleasant tingle through you. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Yeah,” you replied lightly, turning towards your doorway. “Get back home safe,” you added, the warmth of his gaze lingering on your back when you faced your door.

You didn’t notice Bucky remained rooted to the spot, swallowed by the shadows between two lampposts, only moving again after the door fell shut behind you.

****

Bucky’s boot picked up a lone pebble on the sidewalk, sending it skittering across the uneven pavement. It bounced once, twice, the dull thuds echoing in the stillness of the night, before coming to a rest nestled against a jagged crack.

The night air felt a little colder suddenly, prickling with a sudden chill. Yet, a warm sensation bloomed in his chest, something he couldn’t quite define. It was some sort of contentment he hadn’t felt in a long time. Perhaps never truly, when he thought about it.

Bucky liked going for walks when it was night. He felt like he could hide away in the cloak of darkness. The many people, the harsh glare of the sun, the cacophony of car honks, and children’s screeching laughter - all these things were absent in the night. It was only him and the watchful moon, providing him the little flicker of light he needed.

He listened to the symphonies of the night, a chorus often drowned out by the relentless chaos of the day.

But tonight, those noises were merely playing in the background as Bucky continued his trek back to the bar.

His mind remained tethered to thoughts of you.

You had become a persistent presence in Bucky’s thoughts for the last few days, an enigma that he couldn’t unravel ever since the first encounter at the bar. There was something about you, an unmistakable vulnerability - a weightiness that hung in the air around you, hidden beneath a forced smile.

He noticed it in the way you carried yourself - the subtle restlessness in the way you moved, the nervous energy that danced in your fingertips as they toyed with your jacket, the restless flicker of your eyes as they darted around the room.

And of course, he had seen that fleeting flinch, barely perceptible yet telling, as Pietro mentioned a name. Michael, Bucky believed it was. Tension had gripped your frame, the wary glance around as if making sure nobody had seen that involuntary reaction.

But Bucky had, and it made him wonder.

It was clear that you carried around a burden. You instinctively closed yourself off, becoming awfully guarded whenever inquiries veered too close to the reasons for your return to your hometown. He had seen it in the gardening store when Sam asked you those probing questions.

It wasn’t that hard to guess that it had something to do with that Michael, Pietro had mentioned.

Bucky became good at reading people in the times he closed himself off - after his accident. He fell into a hole, a chasm of solitude where he sought refuge from his harsh realities. He withdrew into himself, staying within the confines of his own silent anguish.

The gang tried to respect his sense of distance, but a chill settled around him like a shroud, enveloping him in an aura of icy detachment. His demeanor turned frigid, his responses curt and clipped when he provided his friends with an answer at all. They got used to his stares and the frostiness that cloaked his every interaction.

Until Sam put a stop to it.

He was the one to give Bucky shit about it and forced his sorry ass back up with annoying persistence, urging him to claw his way back to the surface.

Or as Sam had put it: “Get your ass out of wherever it’s stuck, man, this can’t go on like that”

Still, there were certain things his accident had taken from him that even Sam couldn’t force back. He lost parts of himself - pieces of his identity, fragments of his former self, leaving behind a fractured semblance of the guy he once was. In its wake, insecurity crept in, entwining his being, and strangling the remnants of his confidence.

It made him grow out his hair and hide away those ugly scars that littered his left arm behind long sleeves and those damn gloves that made him sweat underneath.

He grew into a new version that had lost interest in flirting with every pretty girl he came across in a town he knew he would only pass through. He no longer reveled in the transient pleasures that once left a trail of satisfaction in his wake when getting back on his bike and leaving her and her town.

After it happened, his nights had unfolded in a predictable, almost monotonous way when he and the gang had entered a new town to stay for a couple of nights before moving again.

Always moving.

He stayed in those dingy hotel rooms with their flickering fluorescent lights and stale air, oftentimes sharing a room with Steve and Sam because money was always rare.

Or, he would find himself hunched over a bar counter with a white-knuckled grip on the beer glass in front of him. Each swig of whiskey, each shot of bottom-self bourbon, was a desperate attempt to drown out the echoes of past mistakes, to numb the shame that gnawed at him from within.

He had hoped the alcohol would help get rid of that uncomfortable itch under his skin that made his back prickle with a cold sweat at the lingering stares of some of the women in the bar. Unfortunately, though, nothing could help distract himself from the onslaught of unwanted attention, so after he couldn’t take it anymore he left the bar to take a walk in the dark.

Just him and the moon, a silent communion with the vast emptiness that mirrored the hollowness within.

His past behavior irked him - the fleeting pleasure he sought, now a bitter residue staining his conscience. It had been a momentary high, but at what cost? Perhaps he had left a trail of hurt feelings after fleeing another girl’s apartment before dawn’s first light could even peek through the curtains, just for her to wake up to the fading rumble of a motorcycle - his motorcycle.

His ma had raised him better than that.

Thinking of his former actions always had bile rising in his throat. Disgust at himself coiled in his chest, a viper he couldn’t seem to dislodge.

So it left him bewildered that he was so effortlessly flirting with you earlier, the word ‘pretty’ tumbling from his lips as if it were the most natural thing in the world. It was true, undeniably so - you were beautiful, but the ease with which the compliment flew out left him stunned.

He didn’t know where that came from. All he knew was that your presence afforded him a strange sense of calm. He didn’t feel himself retreat into his usual shell. It was unnerving to some extent, this unfamiliar territory. The way his thoughts buzzed with you, a constant undercurrent, sent a tremor of apprehension through him. He was out of his depth.

Earlier tonight he had been grappling with the thought to leave his apartment and walk down those stairs to the bar. He knew you would be there, attending to your first shift and it would be an opportunity to see you again, but he had hesitated. He knew you barely a week, and surely he would have to deal with a few questioning glances from his friends and that inevitable teasing smirk of Sam - one he had threatened to wipe off with a fist more than once - that he seemed to wear more often since you came to town.

But then he did get to see you and of course, the first thing he did was startle you. He had cursed himself inwardly. Yet, as you prepared to walk home alone in the dark, a surge of protectiveness washed over him, compelling him to ensure your safety. It was a sensation foreign to him, yet undeniable in its intensity.

He had never experienced such a pull towards anyone before. You ignited something within him, a dormant spark that stirred to life in your presence. He was intrigued by you because although he could read people well, there were things about you that remained a mystery to him.

Perhaps, unbeknownst to the both of you, there may be deeper similarities hidden beneath the surface.

“You walk in, and my heart beats different”

- butterflies rising

Tag list:

@heletsmelovehim @moonlightreader649 @jbbarnesgirl @differenttyphoonwerewolf

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

October's reading list ( a little late!)

Please read each fic's warnings before reading.

If you enjoyed a fic please reblog and comment to feed a hungry writer!

🔥 = smut

Azriel

Whispers in the Dark by @readychilledwine 🔥

Bat Boys

7 Minutes in Heaven by @honeybeefae 🔥

Bucky Barnes

All The Apple Cider and No More Haunted Houses by @witchywithwhiskey 🔥

An Old Fashioned Notion of Wartime and Whisky by @rookthorne 🔥

Aren't You Glad You Read the Latin by @witchywithwhiskey 🔥

Biker Sex by @1-800-jjbarnes 🔥

Chain Round My Neck by @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky

Depths of Pleasure by @rookthorne 🔥

May I by @notyetneedcoffee 🔥

Omegaverse by @honeybloomss 🔥

Party Games by @ramp-it-up 🔥

Play Pretend by @rookthorne 🔥

Pure Relaxation by @1-800-jjbarnes 🔥

Scary Stories and a Little Something More by @witchywithwhiskey 🔥

Bucky X Thor

Hair Tie Drabble by @linesfromthepocket

Cassian

Size Kink by @jeannineee

Thigh Riding by @azsazz 🔥

Unraveling by @shadowdaddies

Cassian x Azriel x Reader

You Look So Pretty All Tied Up For Me by @acourtofwhatthefuck 🔥

Elriel

Stargirl by @duskandcobalt (part 2) 🔥

Feysand

Eating Out (Feysand X Reader) @lovelyladyabsinthewrites 🔥

Sunday Morning (Feysand X Reader) by @whisperingmidnights 🔥

Frank Castle

Innocence & Praise Kink by @fluffyprettykitty 🔥

Henry x Alex (RWRB)

Miss You Like Crazy by @late-to-the-party-81 🔥

Jake Jensen

Yenzy x Broozy by @drabblewithfrannybarnes

Joaquín Torres

This feelin' is reckless of knowin' it's selfish by @tom-whore-dleston 🔥

Loki

A Gift for Loki by @november-rayne 🔥

An Offering by @lokisgoodgirl 🔥

Awful Things by @lokisgoodgirl 🔥

Burned by @sarahscribbles 🔥

Call You Mine by @sarahscribbles 🔥

Heavy Petting by @wheredafandomat 🔥

I'm Fine by @ladychota

My Loki by @wheredafandomat 🔥

Purple and Red by @ sarahscribbles 🔥

Somnophilia by @sarahscribbles 🔥

The Lakes by @lokisgoodgirl

Transgressions by @lokischambermaid

You Built Me Castles Out of Paragraphs by @softforloki

Nessian

Humiliation by @sweetcarolina-24 (Nessian X Reader) 🔥

Pool Sex by @moodymelanist 🔥

Rhysand

Calm & Bright by @shadowdaddies

Daddy Kink by @jeannineee 🔥

Hide and Seek by @shadowdaddies 🔥

Sweater Weather by @ shadowdaddies

Voyerism by @jeannineee 🔥

Ruhn Danaan

Catch Me If You Can by @azsazz 🔥

Quality Entertainment by @ shadowdaddies 🔥

Sensitive by @callmeblaire 🔥

Steve Rogers

Screaming In A Haunted Corn Maze by @witchywithwhiskey 🔥

Stucky

Sensual Deprivation by @lunarbuck 🔥

Special Girl by @rookthorne

Stucky X Reader

Backstage Pass by @luxeavenger 🔥