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gremlin-girly · 23 days ago

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An Open Invitation

Whisk & Whimsy Part 2

Dividers by: @/bernardsbendystraws | Banner by me, made in canva, images from canva and Pinterest (credit to the original creators)

Tags/warnings: Mild intimidation, threats, petnames (doll, sweetheart)

Not beta'd. I do not give permission for my work to be reposted, copied, translated or put through an AI machine.

Pairing: Biker! Bucky x f!Cafe Owner! Reader

Chapter summary: Sick of your defiant antics, Bucky invites you to the club.

Word count: 4.6k

Series Masterlist | Bucky Masterlist | Navigation

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

You'd learned that the two bikers positioned outside Whisk & Whimsy were Steve and Sam.

You had learned that because you continued to go and hand them lunches and made a point to make polite conversation and learn about their preferred sandwiches, coffee and pastries.

Your continued exchanges with them meant that the townsfolk of Briarridge believed you and Bucky were even; which meant that you were getting more and more customers by the day. Much to the annoyance of the bikers out front, and most likely Bucky too.

That thought made your smile brighter as you handed Steve and Sam their take out bags. It had been almost a month since Bucky had paid your small café a visit and you'd tried wracking your brain to come up with an idea that would keep him and his little gang from destroying what you'd so painstakingly created.

"You know," Steve began a day before Bucky's supposed return, munching around the croissant you'd packed him. Flaky bits of pastry nestled into the creases of his shirt that traced his muscles and you were too polite to tell him he was making a mess. "Bucky has been thinking of inviting you to the club."

You raise your eyebrows. So. Another intimidation tactic, huh? You'd wondered how long it would take for him to snap at your peaceful act of defiance. Apparently, to your surprise, Bucky was a patient man. Despite the open invitation, and knowing it's meant to try and terrify you into submission, you can't ignore the fact it's a great opportunity to both simultaneously gain favour and infuriate Bucky further.

"Really?" You ask looking between the two bikers. Sam sips at his coffee before answering you, eyeing you with a small smirk.

"You're being so kind to us, Bucky wants to return the favour." He explains, trying to catch a drop in your friendly demeanour but when it doesn't happen, he shrugs. "He wants you to come tomorrow night."

"Can't," you say with a sweet smile and both men straighten their shoulders. "Health inspector visit."

You should be afraid; both men are over six foot at least and are well-built. It's a courtesy you haven't been hurt or had your life threatened. However, they hadn't made one move towards you the entire week and eventually relaxed around you. You can only guess that they're more shocked that you would directly disobey an order from Bucky. And you were about to press your luck even further.

"I could maybe swing by on the weekend? I don't know, I'm pretty busy this week. Bucky is supposed to stop by tomorrow anyway, we can arrange it then."

Steve and Sam both balk at your suggestion, shifting in their seats with unease. However, you needed a few extra days to prepare, mentally and physically, but you also wanted to push the limits of how much you could get away with. If Bucky was as tough and scary as he seemed, you were probably putting your life on the line by poking the bear. Or wolf.

Steve growls a wary "hrm" but tugs his phone from his jeans pocket and taps away before speaking again.

"Bucky's coming to collect payment tomorrow." Steve says slowly, blues eyes scanning your face like Sam, still waiting on that drop.

"He's not. He's coming for lunch and to arrange a time for me to visit." You keep your smile still as you reply coolly. "Speaking of lunch, I haven't eaten since six a.m.. Sorry boys, gotta go."

You give them a wave goodbye and re-enter the café, wiping your sweaty palms on your apron, taking a breath. It's only for a moment. A brief suspension in time where you allow the anxiety of your situation claw at your chest before you grin and go back to serving your customers like your livlihood isn't in danger.

The following morning, Steve and Sam aren't posted in their usual spot as you unlock the doors to Whisk & Whimsy. That's off-putting.

You'd already done the prep for the day the night before, sacrificing your down time and sleep just in case Bucky forced you to the club today, even going so far as to gather what little money you had gathered in savings and hiding it in the hole in your living room and putting both a rug and the newly acquired second-hand sofa over it.

You sigh heavily into a flat white, hoping it would wake you up as the thrum of your Kitchen-Aid creamed sugar and butter together. You refused to let your anxiety be your conquerer today; there was too much to lose. Waiting on Bucky’s arrival would be excruciating, you may as well be productive while you wait.

The bell jingles and heavy footfalls of thick-soled bike boots alert you to Bucky’s arrival. You look up from your cup, switching the mixer off, and offer up a warm smile.

"Doll," Bucky drawls, smirking back at you as he approaches. "Good morning."

It's annoying how good he looks. His long hair has been pushed back, a cigarette nestled on his left ear, and in place of the red Henley it's a tight white t-shirt that leaves little to the imagination. The dark outlines of his tattoos were visible under his shirt, trailing from his shoulder all the way to his wrist. He's still wearing his rings and the clack against the counter as he folds his arms onto it, and you can see a bicep the size of your head bulge.

"Morning." You reply. "Black coffee?"

Bucky grins. "Yeah. And one of those chocolate croissants Steve keeps going on about. Thanks."

The air is thick with tension as you set up the coffee and grab a fresh pain au chocolat from the pastry display. You were expecting guns blazing, figuratively and literally, not a shark's grin and polite interaction. You don't offer to heat up the pain au chocolat and you place it on a plate in front of him followed by his coffee.

"On the house." You say curtly, even though Bucky doesn't even reach for his wallet.

"Aw, doll, that's too kind." Bucky takes a bite out of the pastry and makes a face of bliss, licking away the pastry flakes. "Shit. These are good."

You want to curse yourself for getting distracted by him but shake it off. He's just another asshole. You're golden. You just need to keep buttering him up.

"Steve said you invited me to the club," you say casually, leaning into the counter. "That was... kind of you."

Bucky raises an eyebrow at you as he takes a sip of coffee, clearly wary of your intentions but shrugs. "You've been good to Steve and Sam this week and I've been getting an earful of of it. I can only return the favour."

That was a relief to hear. Your hard work of being a decent human being had paid off, even it was an excuse to try and intimidate money out of you.

"Oh, well that's-"

"But imagine my surprise when you say I'm coming by so we can discuss a day and a time." He interrupts with a smirk, his eyes boring into yours to try and make you wither and apologise. "I think you mistook my invitation as my asking you out."

You try not letting the comment get to you, forcing the blush to stay back off your face. He's just being aggravating. Pushing your buttons.

He's smarter than he looks.

"You said last week you'd stop by." You say with a small shrug, stretching your arms up and away from the counter and begin to potter with your Kitchen-Aid. "Sorry, I just thought it would be best to discuss in person rather than back-and -forthing through the boys."

Bucky's blue eyes narrow but his smirk remains. He holds your gaze for a few seconds more before chuckling. "I didn't come by for you and you know damn well I didn't."

"Didn't you?" You ask innocently, enjoying having him on the backfoot instead. "So, everyone has been invited to the club?"

Bucky looks at little taken aback but as he opens his mouth, you talk over him.

"I'm free Saturday night, though." You scrape the edges of the bowl before adding two eggs. "I checked my calendar yesterday."

Bucky huffs incredulously but his smirk widens into a grin. "You're gonna be a pain in my ass, doll. I know it."

"Dont know what you mean, Bucky." You say sweetly, turning the mixer on low. The hum of the motor fills the café again. "Give me a time and the address and I'll see you then."

For some reason you thought the club would be miles out of town, not in the middle of a street. The bikes were in a lot around the back, and the music was so loud the beat could be felt on the ground outside the bar. A red neon sign flickered above the bar; The Den.

Two terrifyingly imposing men stood at the door and you felt extremely underdressed in your spring floral dress and flats. You gripped your cupcake carrier tight in your hands as you approached and smiled brightly.

The taller of the two, easily beating Steve in height, had a thick brown and grey beard and dark brown eyes. He wore a leather waistcoat with a white shirt vest underneath, which allowed his huge, tattooed arms to be on display. The other was blond, with a strong nose and a somehow meaner looking face, arms crossed firmly across his chest.

"Hi." You say brightly. "Bucky invited me."

Both men exchange a glance and their eyes narrow and you gulp nervously. The bigger one squints for a moment before breaking into a grin.

"Ah! You must be the baking lady!" His Russian accent is thick and the sudden shift in demeanour makes his imposing nature melt away into something akin to a buff, Russian Santa Claus. "I am Alexei. This is Walker."

You nod at Walker, who still doesn't seem convinced by you. Alexei waves a hand at him. "Go get Bucky." He says before leaning down to you, taking your heavy cupcake carrier from your hand. "Pretty ladies should never carry heavy things."

You thank him shyly and follow behind Walker inside the club. It's louder inside and far more... sparse than you'd expected. There's a small bar with a redhead manning it, a short-haired blonde woman with a nose piercing tapping away at her phone on a barstool, and other than Sam and Steve only a handful of faces you don't recognise.

Some are chatting together, some are playing pool and some are playing darts. It just looks like a normal bar; dim lights, music that's clearly old school rock playing from a speaker somewhere, and a questionable amount of dark stains in the worn into the carpet. You didn't need to guess what those stains were.

"Pretty nice eh?" Alexei says proudly. "Since Bucky opened this chapter, we've had quite a few new members!"

"It's lovely." You say sweetly, and Walker casts a glance backwards at you, unimpressed.

"You two wait here, I'll go get him."

Alexei leads you to the bar and sets down your carrier on top of it as Walker vanishes through a door in the back.

"Ignore Walker," he murmurs as you take a seat. "He's got bees in his briefs."

You smile, genuinely, but try to figure out the saying when the redheaded barkeep appears.

"You mean a bee in his bonnet, dad." She gives you a cunning smile, green eyes roving over your dress. "You must be the one Bucky's got a bee in his bonnet about."

"Bee in briefs sounds better." Alexei huffs quietly. "It make more sense. I would be panicked if there was a bee in my-"

"Please shut up, dad." The short haired blonde groans from the other side of the bar. She also had a Russian accent but was younger than Natasha. Sensing your confusion, Natsha explains.

"We're his adopted daughters." She says, popping the cap of a beer on the edge of the bar with her palm and placing the bottle in front of his dad. "I moved to America a few years ago, so my accent has dwindled. Drink?"

You nod in understanding but feel a blush creep up your neck when you struggle to think of an acceptable non-alcoholic drink. "Just... um... a lemonade will do, please."

Natasha raises an eyebrow and snorts, shaking her head slightly but pours your lemonade as requested. When it's placed in front of you, you take a tentative sip, scrunching your nose as carbonated bubbles tickle your nostrils. It's watered down but bordering on room temperature, just a hint of lemon and artifical sweetness that makes you happy it's not just water. Alexei comments that they'll get you on something stronger soon enough.

"Hey now, I'm working tomorrow." You say playfully, not wanting to give the impression that you're intentionally not drinking any alcohol around them. You actually want the other members to like you, bizarrely enough. If they liked you, they may try to convince Bucky to be at least a little bit more lenient on you.

"So am I," Alexei chortles, swigging his beer.

Natasha snorts, her features softening slightly, leaning her arms on the bar. "Just don't offer to try his vodka."

"Hey!" Alexei protests with a pout and opens his arms defensively. "It's good vodka. Strong."

"Paint stripper." Yelena pipes up from the corner, not looking up from here phone.

"Secret recipe." Alexei counters before jumping to his feet when the heavy footfalls of one Bucky Barnes sound from behind the door Walker disappeared behind.

You don't rise but cradle your glass in your hand and watch as Bucky emerges. He still looks as good as the other day, which is infuriating, but now over his white t-shirt is a ragged, well-loved leather jacket with the White Wolf insignia and a few other patches stitched onto it.

Your eyes wander to the other members. Everyone, including Yelena, have stopped what they're doing to look up at Bucky.

"You came." Bucky addresses you with a grin, coming up beside you to lean on the bar. He seems slightly surprised you hadn't chickened out last minute even though you'd been tempted. You didn't know what they'd do to you but you knew you'd gain more respect by showing up.

"You invited me." You say simply. "It'd be rude not to accept such a generous invitation."

You barely manage to keep the sarcasm from your voice and give Bucky a toothy smile as Natasha places a beer in front of him without prompt. His blue eyes narrow in that way where he knows you aren't being entirely genuine but can't call you out on it and he sips at the bottle.

"Yeah." He says absently, before turning to the rest of the men, and few women, that stood behind him. "Everyone! This is the owner of the new bakery in town. The one whose been handing out freebies to Sam, Steve and myself."

Everyone remains silent and unmoving. You suddenly, and ironically, feel like a rabbit that's been thrown to the wolves. They are all waiting on Bucky.

Unease creeps up your spine. Maybe you'd bitten off more than you could chew. Bucky tells the club your name and tells them to treat you as a respected guest.

"Oh," you add, taking a sip of lemonade. "And I brought cupcakes."

"Cupcakes?" Bucky's smug expression falters. He's almost aghast. You'd done the unthinkable. The unimaginable.

You had been nice.

Bucky frowns. You're being too nice. Why are you being nice?

You smack the top of the box with unhindered delight; pleased that Bucky was at a loss for words and clearly struggling to keep his composure, wracking his brain to uncover your ploy. But you were as stubborn as he was aggravating.

"I wasn't sure how many of you were here." You say honestly, opening up the box compartments. "So, I made twenty-four in total."

"I... don't know what to say." Bucky says blankly staring into the box, revealing twenty-four beautifully decorated cupcakes of vanilla and chocolate.

"Thank you would be a start." Sam sneers and bursts into laughter. Bucky glares at him but there's no malice in it, only fondness, and his lips twitch upwards.

And you don't like how it made your stomach twist.

"Thank you, doll." Bucky nods graciously at you before waving a hand. "Alright have at them boys and gals."

You move out of the way as the bikers all move towards you and your seat at the bar, unintentionally moving towards Bucky, who'd plucked up a chocolate cupcake. His blue eyes are laser focused onto you and you see that sneer creep onto his lips as he bites down into the soft and fluffy treat.

"I'll introduce you to everyone, doll." He says, licking his lips free of chocolate. Unlike the pain au chocolat, the buttercream frosting was stickier and denser, forcing Bucky to run his tongue over his rose-pink plump lips. God, you hated him. "You already know Steve and Sam. And now you've met Walker, Nat, Alexei and 'Lena."

You nod along, eyes flickering to each member mentioned. Everyone is humming at the taste, Steve being in a total state with vanilla frosting and salted caramel sauce smeared all over him. You find yourself smiling at the sight of this rag-tag bunch of ruffians before you; one big family if you ever did see one.

You miss the look Bucky gives you, completely swept up in the excited compliments and Alexei practically begging you to bring more as he attempts to sneakily eat a second cupcake, ruined by Natasha's flicking of his ear with a soft chide.

"Told you ish good," Steve says around a mouthful of cake before nodding frantically with approval. "These are so good."

Bucky folds his arms and you can hear the leather creak behind you, humming thoughtfully, but ultimately saying nothing. Once everyone has finished eating, they go back to their places or games, which is when Bucky practically brings you around each and every member for a formal introduction.

There's Piertro; a silver haired boy racer who, according to Bucky, is a speedster.

"Likes the rush of going fast." Bucky rolled his eyes playfully.

Piertro shrugged in a cute fashion, flashing Bucky and you a grin. "What can I say? The ladies love it and I love the ladies."

He raises his eyebrows suggestively at you and goes to open his mouth before Bucky silences him by holding up a tattooed hand. "Dont even think about it, pal."

That earns Bucky a surprised giggle from you and a guffaw from the other young man next to him. He introduces himself as Joaquin and shakes your hand.

"Ignore him," He says, ignoring Piertro's gasp of mock-outrage. "We're the two youngest apart from Wanda and Yelena. It can get boring hanging about here sometimes."

"Does it?" Bucky queries with a cocked brow and Joaquin grins sheepishly at him, almost batting his eyelashes innocently.

"You know what I mean, Boss." He corrects softly. "Just, you know, gotta... go fast? To enjoy life?"

He looks hopeful but Bucky shakes his head with a smile. "You've been spending too much time with Sam."

Bucky takes you around to a few more equally scary bikers with a variety of nicknames, one of the more worrying ones being Punisher, but everyone seems to be okay that you're there. Well, okay that Bucky is okay with you being here. The only members you haven't met yet are Wanda, Piertro's twin sister who worked nights at one of the diners in town, and Lemar - Walker's best friend - who was busy with his family.

Two hours fly by. At some point, Sam hands you another lemonade, and you find yourself easily chatting and laughing with the notorious gang and you almost forget the whole reason you came. Bucky takes a back seat, strangely, watching you interact with everyone and occasionally chipping in with a smart-ass comment or a tease. You can feel his eyes on you with every movement you make, every joke you quip, every story you tell. Even when he and Steve exchange whispers, you catch him looking at you.

You had to admit, he's managed to make you feel a strange sense of unease. There's something exhilarating about the entire situation; you didn't think you'd get this far without having something burned, being injured or worse. You don't know what it is about Bucky and his mind games that gets you so riled but you're enjoying the fact that you're riling him up just as much.

You learn so much about the different people in the bar, save from Bucky, Walker and Punisher - who you now know is named Frank - who keep to themselves. It's oddly wholesome and sweet, the way these bikers, feared by the town, seem to have taken to you. All because you brought them cupcakes.

So your plan had worked. In a way.

At around midnight, you decide to call it quits, much to Joaquin and Alexei's disappointment as they were trying to convince you to play a game of darts with them.

"Sorry, boys. Up early for work." You try to sound more apologetic than tired, and stifle a yawn for effect. "If Bucky invites me back, I'll owe you a game."

Theres a brief moment of silence as everyone looks to Bucky; Joaquín and Alexei looking hopeful with puppy-dog eyes. Bucky, who's now standing and rolling a cigarette, sighs.

"It was an open invitation, doll. You're welcome here." He says, placing the butt of the cigarette between his lips. So distracting. "Come on, I'll walk you out."

You smile and thank him, a bucket of triumph washing over you. You knew it wasn't over - not by a long shot - but taking the White Wolves down from the inside, maybe even striking a deal with Bucky so you could keep your hard earned money, was a new prospect that you'd managed to earn for yourself and your business. And you were damn happy about that.

You said goodbye to everyone and, intimidation tactics aside, you really enjoyed yourself tonight. You told Bucky as much as you stepped out of the bar, shuddering at the cold breeze that travelled down the street.

"Thanks for the invite." You say, looking into the parking lot opposite your car to where the bikes all sat in neat rows.

"Which one is yours?" You ask politely, looking over the array of bikes. You don't know brands, you wouldn't be able to tell a Harley from a Yamaha, but you can see that they're all in excellent condition and well cared for.

"Guess." Bucky responds, lighting the cigarette and taking a drag. You want to roll your eyes but your night had been good so far, and you didn't want to spoil it now. Not when you'd made so much progress.

Your eyes trail the bikes. Plenty of variety in colour and size and make but there's one that sticks out the most; a mid-sized bike with a beautiful cherry red fuel tank and matching fuel guard with handlebars wide enough for a set of broad shoulders. You can immediately envisage Bucky on it, slouching in the low leather seat, ringed, tattooed hand on the throttle revving the engine. You can feel your skin prickle at the image and convince yourself it's because of the cool midnight air.

"That one," you point at the red bike.

Bucky laughs. "How did you know?"

"Wild guess." You half-lie with a shrug, clicking the unlock button on your car keys.

"We should go for a ride sometime." Bucky says casually, walking lazily behind you. He leans on the roof while you open the door, setting your sidebag behind your seat before getting in. Curls of smoke rise from the cigarette between his fingers, and you just know you'll be smelling tobacco all the way home.

"Hrm... maybe." You say, pretending to mull it over as you put your keys in the ignition. You pull your door shut and open the window, Bucky’s face immediately appearing beside yours.

"I think you'd look cute on the back of my ride," he says lowly, his eyes not leaving yours, daring you to look away first. "Arms wrapped around me tight, wind in your hair..."

"Neck snapping at one hundred miles and hour when I fall off." You shiver, hands gripping the steering wheel. "No thanks."

"Aw, come on doll," he persists giving you that charming sneer/smile that you couldn't tell if he was intentionally pushing your buttons or being a flirt. "It'd be fun. Tell you what, you do that, I'll let your payment for this month and next slide."

That piques your interest.

You look at him then to the road, grinding your teeth and hope Bucky mistakes it for a smile. Of course he'd say that. How could you refuse? Bastard.

"Oh... alright." You say, pretending to have some inner turmoil as your car engine stutters to life. "Just let me know when in case I need to close the café."

Bucky waves you off as you pull away from the pavement, and you watch him grow smaller in your rear view mirror. You heave a sigh and curse. You didn't want to be on his bike, or any bike for that matter. Your heart raced as did your brain imagining holding onto him as he sped along one of the long stretches of road and you bang your head against your steering wheel when you get to a red light.

You needed to figure out a way to get out of getting on Bucky’s bike. And soon.

It's 3am when you park your car two miles up the road from the bar a week later. You're ride with Bucky and the gang is supposed to be the next day, and in a last ditch attempt to give yourself an extra day to compose yourself, you'd hatched a plan. Arguably stupid but a plan nonetheless.

The night air has a slight chill but the moon is bright, illuminating the road to the parking lot where the White Wolves' bikes are kept.

You feel like a criminal. Hell, you would be a criminal after going through with this. However, points need to be made and if you're lucky it couldn't be officially linked back to you.

Dressed in all black, wishing you felt more like James Bond rather than a fool, you begin your trek to The Den, tugging a balaclava over your head when you get close to the lights of the parking lot.

All of the lights inside the building are out, on schedule. You couldn't believe you'd staked them out the last few nights. You were turning into a crazy person.

You are a crazy person.

When Bucky had shown you around, you'd made note of where all the cameras that had been placed, and realised they were dummies. Which of course they were; bar fights, ominous stains and other illegal activites that you'd heard were prevalent with biker gangs meant that they wouldnt want to incriminate themselves. You were glad you didn't have to worry about cutting any electricity but still, if you got caught and there were no cameras.... You shake your head and steel yourself; you had a job to do. A life to live. A ride to avoid.

You eye up Bucky's bike as you approach. Beautiful red petrol tank, thick tyres, low leather seat.

You smile against the wool of your balaclava; you'd buy yourself at least a few more days without having to see him. You plunge a thin nail through the first tyre, removing it slowly with your pliers. You listen closely as the tyre sighs in defeat and pathetically withers under the nail. You're triumphant. Now, you just have to get back to the car.

You - Two.

White wolves - Nil.

Chapter 2 - End

A/N: Happy Friday! And so it begins! I actually cut this chapter in half because I didn't want it getting too long. Plus I wanted to work a little on the ending

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