sashaisready

[sashaisready]

this has been such a great series I fully suggest you get into it if you haven’t already! A wonderful mix of angst and joy and SMUT and lucky for you if you’re new to it - so many parts to catch up on and sink your teeth into.

Unwanted: Chapter 29, Unarmed, Redux - Pt. 4

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language,

Word Count: 741

Previously On...: Steve made some confessions.

A/N: Finally, resolutions!

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43

Tumblr will not let me directly tag the following: @marcswife21 @erelierraceala @jupiter-107 @doublejeon @hiqhkey @unaxv @brookeleclerc

You sat there, staring off into space for several moments. You couldn’t believe that had just happened. Was there no end to the number of times a super soldier would betray you?

Bucky cleared his throat after a few silent minutes. “I’ll… I’ll leave you alone now, doll,” he said. “‘M sure I’m one of the last people you want to see right now.”

He made to leave, but you called him back. “Buck, no,” you said. He turned around and looked at you quixotically. “Stay. We’re not done.”

He swallowed, then nodded, coming back to sit in the armchair next to your bed. “Yeah, okay,” he said. 

“Did you mean what you said,” you asked, looking up at him. “Back in Atlantic City? When you said you were self-sabotaging?”

Bucky narrowed his eyes at you in confusion, as if that was the last topic of conversation he expected you to bring up right now. “When, uh… when you broke things off, for good, after Russia, I started seeing Raynor a lot more frequently. Like, two hours a day, every day,” he offered. “I needed to understand why I kept ruining things, especially when you make me so damned happy. It didn’t make sense to me.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, didn’t make much sense to me, either,” you told him with a smirk, but he didn’t catch it.

“She told me, and I’m paraphrasin’ here, that, despite all the progress I’ve made, I still haven’t forgiven myself for the things I’ve done as the Winter Soldier,” he said, fidgeting with his metal fingers. “And, because I haven’t forgiven myself, I can’t see myself as being worth being loved, being happy. So, I did things, behaved in ways that proved I shouldn’t be. Like a, uh… ‘self-fulfilling prophecy,’ she said.

“She said that I created a loop, a cycle, where I kept makin’ fucked up decisions because I kept expectin’ to fuck up,” he continued. “Like, of course I hurt you, because I was scared of hurting you, if that makes sense? She said Carthage was like a mirror. When I sought validation from her, I was really seeking it from myself. I don’t necessarily know if I buy that,” he chuckled humorously. “Feels like it lets me off the hook too easily, but the doc seems to think it makes sense.”

You nodded, considering his words. “I thought you said she was a shitty quack,” you said after a moment. Bucky looked at you questioningly. “I did.”

“Sounds to me like you owe her a ‘thank you,’” you said, smiling at him. “What did she tell you to do about it?”

Bucky shrugged. “She called me a fucking dumbass, to start. Told me real love isn’t about whether or not you think you’re worthy of someone; it’s about working to be worthy of someone, to keep striving to be the best version of yourself for them. She said I needed to learn how to be honest, with you, and myself, to let you know when I’m struggling, to open up so we can help each other carry our burdens, and not hide mine away because I’m afraid.”

“She sounds a lot smarter than you’ve ever given her credit for,” you teased gently.

Bucky snorted. “Never let her hear you say that,” he said. “I won’t hear the end of it.”

“Can I ask you a question?” he said, after a moment of silence. You nodded. “Did you mean what you said, in front of Carthage, that you wished we could start fresh? Build something new? Something better?”

You nodded again. “With my whole heart,” you told him. 

Bucky seemed to take a moment to contemplate your words before he stuck out his hand. “‘M Bucky,” he said.

You scoffed playfully. “What the hell kind of name is ‘Bucky’?” you asked with a grin.

“I dunno,” he said with an answering grin of his own. “What the hell kind of name is Pocket?”

You grabbed his outstretched hand and pulled him to you, slotting your mouth over his and feeling his smile against your lips. “POCKET!” you heard Tony shout from behind the closed door. “He’s been in there long enough! The people demand to know! What the ‘F’ Is It?”

You and Bucky broke apart from your kiss, foreheads pressed together as you both laughed. Yeah, you thought with a smile, the two of you were going to be okay.

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[sashaisready]

[sashaisready]

#Hair

[sashaisready]

😄😄😄

This Must Be The Place: Chapter 2 -Feet on the ground

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

No specific warnings in this one (apart from Biker!Bucky of course). Some brief references to grief. Sorry it's on the shorter side, just need to set up our story. Thanks to all who have reblogged/commented, it means a lot!

You sipped your drink as you told Bucky all about granny and moving into her house. He nodded solemnly as he leaned on the bar and listened intently, the depth of his attention surprising you. You didn’t expect him to be so easy to talk to. Behind you, Wanda and Vis were very obviously pretending to be chatting, while clearly eavesdropping on your conversation.

“Oh yeah, she was a nice lady. I’m sorry for your loss,” Bucky told you with sincerity after you’d finish the whole tale. “She was a tough old gal”.

“Uh, thanks,” you replied quietly, not realising until now what an emotional gut punch it still was to talk about her. “And yeah…she was”.

You cleared your throat and changed the subject. You cocked an eyebrow and looked at him curiously.

“So…what’s your deal?”

He grinned, “What’d you mean?”

“You know,” you pointed to his kutte, “all this. You’re one of the top guys, I guess? I’m sorry, I don’t really know the lingo…”

“I’m the President” he smirked and pointed to one of his patches, clearly a little amused by your ignorance.

You peered over at the fabric square. “Mm. So, what, you drive around town on your bikes causing mayhem and throwing darts at women’s butts?”

“Something like that, yeah,” he laughed. “But mostly we’re here, or at the auto shop across town”.

“Busy, busy” you teased. “I’m sure its all legitimate and above board…”

He winked. God, what a dangerous wink. You instinctively knew that wink had ruined lives.

You both exchanged a small smile.

“You’re not afraid of me, huh?” Bucky teased.

“Should I be?” you boldly shot back.

He grinned. “No. But a lot of people are”.

“Well…your aesthetics aren’t super warm and fuzzy”.

“No…guess not”.

You continued to sip your drink as you tried to fight off the nagging voice telling you to back off. God only knows what he gets up to when he’s not at the bar or fixing cars or at whatever other business fronts they had. You didn’t need another dangerous, no-good man in your life…You were only supposed to sort the house out, live quietly for a little while and then leave. Not get embroiled with the locals, and certainly not with the President of a probably criminal motorcycle club…

…and yet…

“So…you working while you’re staying here?” he asked curiously.

“Mm. Maybe. I have some savings. And thankfully the mortgage at my grandmother’s place is paid off, so at least that’s one less thing. But I might get something part time to keep the lights on”.

Bucky smirked and held his arm up to the bar behind you. “Work here”.

You laughed. “What? Yeah, good one…”

“I’m serious. You need extra cash. We apparently need some help here after you tore my poor bartender apart. So why not? Sounds like you have some experience…”

“I do yeah…but…”

“But what?” he asked, a hint of interrogation in his voice.

“Well, I was thinking more like a coffee shop or delivering pamphlets or something. Not working nights with drunks…”

“Oh, but we’re friendly drunks. Plus, the regulars tip well,” he pushed. “You can spend the days working on the house and then do a few evenings here until you move on. It’s perfect”.

You frowned. It was pretty perfect, actually. You thought about protesting, but as you looked back at Bucky’s expression you immediately understood that this was someone who was very used to getting his own way.

“You’re not gonna drop this, are you?” you asked.

“Nope” he responded, popping the ‘p’ and shaking his head.

You sighed, chewing your lip with hesitation.

“Will your club mind? I mean…they don’t know me. All they know is I yelled at one of them”.

“Eh. Everyone yells at Parker”, he shrugged. “You’ll fit right in”.

You frowned, then looked back at him suspiciously.

“But…Why are you doing this? You barely know me. I might be a serial killer for all you know…”

He chuckled. “Well, I’ve met a lot of bad guys in my time, Sugar, and trust me, you get pretty good at figuring people out. Plus, I get it, grief is tough, and your grandmother lived here all her life and was a big part of the community. And you’re her family. We do look out for one another here; this is our home after all”.

You blinked in surprise, not expecting that answer. Your sceptical side half believed he just wanted to get in your pants, but he sounded sincere regardless.

You looked over at his group who were laughing and drinking jovially, then across the room at the wide range of clientele. You’d certainly had worked at worse places.

Sighing, you turned back to Bucky. “Well…fine. Let’s do it. But I’m not wearing booty shorts or anything ridiculous for a uniform”.

This coaxed a belly laugh from him. “No…only the male bartenders wear those,” he quipped. “Jeans and tees are fine. Maybe a flannel if you really wanna mix it up”.

You nodded. “Okay, I can do that”.

He smiled back at you sweetly, but a hint of something edgier lay beneath. The way he eyed you made you feel…exposed. Like you were a doe caught in the crosshairs. It wasn’t unpleasant, no, in fact it made your lower belly surge, sending a wave of butterflies through you.

“Welcome aboard, Sugar” he grinned.

You smiled back, once again knowing full well you were treading into dangerous territory...but unable to stop yourself.

[sashaisready]

This Must Be The Place: Chapter 2 -Feet on the ground

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

No specific warnings in this one (apart from Biker!Bucky of course). Some brief references to grief. Sorry it's on the shorter side, just need to set up our story. Thanks to all who have reblogged/commented, it means a lot!

You sipped your drink as you told Bucky all about granny and moving into her house. He nodded solemnly as he leaned on the bar and listened intently, the depth of his attention surprising you. You didn’t expect him to be so easy to talk to. Behind you, Wanda and Vis were very obviously pretending to be chatting, while clearly eavesdropping on your conversation.

“Oh yeah, she was a nice lady. I’m sorry for your loss,” Bucky told you with sincerity after you’d finish the whole tale. “She was a tough old gal”.

“Uh, thanks,” you replied quietly, not realising until now what an emotional gut punch it still was to talk about her. “And yeah…she was”.

You cleared your throat and changed the subject. You cocked an eyebrow and looked at him curiously.

“So…what’s your deal?”

He grinned, “What’d you mean?”

“You know,” you pointed to his kutte, “all this. You’re one of the top guys, I guess? I’m sorry, I don’t really know the lingo…”

“I’m the President” he smirked and pointed to one of his patches, clearly a little amused by your ignorance.

You peered over at the fabric square. “Mm. So, what, you drive around town on your bikes causing mayhem and throwing darts at women’s butts?”

“Something like that, yeah,” he laughed. “But mostly we’re here, or at the auto shop across town”.

“Busy, busy” you teased. “I’m sure its all legitimate and above board…”

He winked. God, what a dangerous wink. You instinctively knew that wink had ruined lives.

You both exchanged a small smile.

“You’re not afraid of me, huh?” Bucky teased.

“Should I be?” you boldly shot back.

He grinned. “No. But a lot of people are”.

“Well…your aesthetics aren’t super warm and fuzzy”.

“No…guess not”.

You continued to sip your drink as you tried to fight off the nagging voice telling you to back off. God only knows what he gets up to when he’s not at the bar or fixing cars or at whatever other business fronts they had. You didn’t need another dangerous, no-good man in your life…You were only supposed to sort the house out, live quietly for a little while and then leave. Not get embroiled with the locals, and certainly not with the President of a probably criminal motorcycle club…

…and yet…

“So…you working while you’re staying here?” he asked curiously.

“Mm. Maybe. I have some savings. And thankfully the mortgage at my grandmother’s place is paid off, so at least that’s one less thing. But I might get something part time to keep the lights on”.

Bucky smirked and held his arm up to the bar behind you. “Work here”.

You laughed. “What? Yeah, good one…”

“I’m serious. You need extra cash. We apparently need some help here after you tore my poor bartender apart. So why not? Sounds like you have some experience…”

“I do yeah…but…”

“But what?” he asked, a hint of interrogation in his voice.

“Well, I was thinking more like a coffee shop or delivering pamphlets or something. Not working nights with drunks…”

“Oh, but we’re friendly drunks. Plus, the regulars tip well,” he pushed. “You can spend the days working on the house and then do a few evenings here until you move on. It’s perfect”.

You frowned. It was pretty perfect, actually. You thought about protesting, but as you looked back at Bucky’s expression you immediately understood that this was someone who was very used to getting his own way.

“You’re not gonna drop this, are you?” you asked.

“Nope” he responded, popping the ‘p’ and shaking his head.

You sighed, chewing your lip with hesitation.

“Will your club mind? I mean…they don’t know me. All they know is I yelled at one of them”.

“Eh. Everyone yells at Parker”, he shrugged. “You’ll fit right in”.

You frowned, then looked back at him suspiciously.

“But…Why are you doing this? You barely know me. I might be a serial killer for all you know…”

He chuckled. “Well, I’ve met a lot of bad guys in my time, Sugar, and trust me, you get pretty good at figuring people out. Plus, I get it, grief is tough, and your grandmother lived here all her life and was a big part of the community. And you’re her family. We do look out for one another here; this is our home after all”.

You blinked in surprise, not expecting that answer. Your sceptical side half believed he just wanted to get in your pants, but he sounded sincere regardless.

You looked over at his group who were laughing and drinking jovially, then across the room at the wide range of clientele. You’d certainly had worked at worse places.

Sighing, you turned back to Bucky. “Well…fine. Let’s do it. But I’m not wearing booty shorts or anything ridiculous for a uniform”.

This coaxed a belly laugh from him. “No…only the male bartenders wear those,” he quipped. “Jeans and tees are fine. Maybe a flannel if you really wanna mix it up”.

You nodded. “Okay, I can do that”.

He smiled back at you sweetly, but a hint of something edgier lay beneath. The way he eyed you made you feel…exposed. Like you were a doe caught in the crosshairs. It wasn’t unpleasant, no, in fact it made your lower belly surge, sending a wave of butterflies through you.

“Welcome aboard, Sugar” he grinned.

You smiled back, once again knowing full well you were treading into dangerous territory...but unable to stop yourself.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #james bucky barnes #this must be the place fic #biker!bucky #motorcycle club au bucky

[sashaisready]

Excited (and nervous) to see where this goes 👀

Muddled Waters 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Part of the Sweet and Spicy AU

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: your boss has a dangerous secret.

Character: Nick Fowler (mob au)

Please comment and reblog if it’s not too much. I always love getting to chat about these stories and hearing all your ideas! You all are wonderful and loved.

You skewer candied cherries on a long toothpick and balance them over a martini glass. The deep blue drink with a layer of foam is perfectly aligned with the crystal brim. You stand straight as you top off the last of the drinks, a new batch for the waiting customers.

You put the small silver measuring cup aside and nearly cry out as the silhouette hovering in the corner of your vision moves. You touch your chest in surprise as you face Nick with a bashful smile. You didn’t even know he was around that day. Lately, he’s been absent more than not.

“Oh, hi,” you laugh at yourself, “I didn’t hear you...”

“I have a bad habit of that,” he grins, “some have compared me to a cat.”

You tilt your head, “some? You mean, me?”

He shrugs, “was that you?

“Maybe,” you turn and carefully move the stemmed glasses to a tray.

“New flavour?” He nears and stands close. You can smell his cedar cologne.

“Blueberry,” you explain, “bit sweet for my tastes but it fits the season.”

“Ah, sounds interesting,” he reaches and takes one of the glasses and you gasp.

“Nick!” You turn to him and he grins as he sips, the foam clinging to his top lip. He hums as he removes the toothpick from across the rim and nibbles off one of the cherries.

“Tasty,” he commends.

“Why-- Now I’ll to make another.”

“They can wait. It’s more than worth it,” he assures, still standing close as he slurps.

You work in the warmth of his looming proximity. He’s never had much of a personal bubble. Working behind a bar, you’ve grown used to being crowded. You measure and pour and muddle. You garnish and set the drink to replace the one your boss took.

“Right, ready,” you declare.

“Here, let me get those,” he slides the tray across the counter before you can react.

“No, you don’t have to--”

“I want to. Boss man’s gotta do some work around here,” he scoffs and lifts the tray. “You take a load off, sweetheart, I need those hands well-rested. No one else has that magic touch.”

You tisk and shake your head. He can be ridiculous. You won’t complain, he’s the least uptight boss you’ve had. The place isn’t too bad. Upscale with well-tipping patronage. It’s not your typical bar. Most of your work is done behind a wall as the customers drink in private rooms or in the common room where refined jazz wafts through the dim air. The whole place drips of exclusivity.

You clean up and wipe the counter before you wash your hands. Another order appears on the screen. Customers order on a sleek touchscreen, unbothered by servers amid their hushed conversations. You assume they are the types with private jets and luxurious yachts. Of course, they’re too special to drink like normal people.

You start up the next order. Spiced apple cider. A classic though it’s not often ordered. Two to put up. You mix the drinks in mason jars with thick handles. You finish them each with a cinnamon stick.

“Ready to go?” Nick has you squeaking again.

“God,” you throw your hands up and laugh, “how do you keep doing that?”

“Hey, not my fault. You’re in the zone. You know, you get all squinty,” he makes a face, “it’s like the whole world doesn’t exist. Makes me feel a bit small.”

“Mm, well, I guess you’re right. I should pay more attention to my surroundings,” you lift the mugs, “I got these, Nick.”

“It’s no problem, one of my buddies,” he wraps his hands around the jars, “been a while since I’ve seen him.”

“Oh, okay then,” you let him take the cups.

“Take it easy. You do too much.”

You smile tightly and lean on the counter. He goes and you turn around to tidy again. You can be precise. You like a clean station. You’ve worked with too many people who leave the bartop littered in lime peel and broken toothpicks. You can’t make a good drink if you’re working in filth.

But it isn’t just your work. You try not to let the personal seep in but you can’t help who you are. Things should be just so. Books should be lined up and sorted alphabetically and the dishes should be stacked neatly, and the carpet can’t be crooked.

You exhale and run your hands over your apron. Most people might envy your boss for his high company and exorbitant wealth, you just covet his coolness. He’s never bothered by much.

“Sweetheart,” he enters, this time with fair warning. You look up at his pet name. He always calls you that. “What’s that chocolate one you did last time?” He snaps his fingers, “you know, it was kinda creamy--”

“Brandy Alexander,” you answer, “yeah, uh, we’re out of dark creme de cacao. I put it on the inventory.”

“Inventory,” he nods and his blue eyes flick away guiltily, “yeah, I was supposed to do that.”

You cross your arms, “yeah, you were.”

“Sorry, sweetheart, I swear, I thought of it,” he crinkles his nose, “but it must’ve slipped my mind.”

“Mhmm,” you sniff, “well, you have been busy. I didn’t even know you were in town.”

He looks up and his cheek dimples. His gaze falls back on you, “lots of running around. Sorry, sweetheart, if it was up to me, I’d be right here, tasting all your delights.”

You nearly snort but instead just furrow your brow.

“What?” He asks.

“Nothing,” you shrug and turn away, the screen showing another order. “Sometimes... the way you say things...”

He chuckles and leans his elbow on the counter, “I do like to choke on my own foot.”

“You know, I said before, I could make time for inventory. I don’t mind making orders--”

“Don’t bother,” he cuts your offer short, “I know people. I can take care of it. I’ll make a few calls tonight.” He stays as he is, angled against the counter as he watches you. He rests his chin on his knuckles and you glance over as you squeeze a lime dry.

“What?” You ask as you measure out the juice.

“How’d you learn to do all this?” He asks.

“I took a few courses, worked a few dives,” you say, “did a gig on a cruise ship. You know, you figure it out.”

“And you enjoy it?” He says, “I mean, I can tell you do.”

“It keeps my hands moving and my head from racing,” you explain as you mix the drink in a shaker.

“Sounds amazing,” he stands straight, “sooner or later, I need to find something to keep me busy. Something that doesn’t make me crazy.”

You garnish and he swipes up the glass before you can stop him.

“Well, you might just have a calling as a waiter,” you say sarcastically as you wipe your hands on a towel.

“I don’t know about that,” he grins, “I’m not much for taking orders.”

[sashaisready]

thanks so much for reblogging!! ❤️

The Blood Pact (completed)

Bucky Barnes Vampire AU x Female Reader

Reeling from a bad break-up, you're desperately trying to find a new place to live but the Brooklyn rental market is a complete nightmare. You take a chance on an intriguing newspaper ad and enquire about a room in a shared house, where you'd be living with two mysterious men. The catch is that they want something other than your money for you to pay the rent...the one thing they don't have

(This is reposted from my Wattpad/ao3 accounts).

Hello! This is a vampire AU set in present day in Brooklyn. Just a heads up that vampire Bucky is kinda an asshole in this one, not always as nice to reader as he should be - so prepare for some angst! He does soften up, though. Maybe a little enemies to lovers sprinkled in there, my fave.

Peter Quill is also reader's terrible ex, so he's not his usual charming self! Apologies if he's your fave. But Steve is very sweet and offsets the meanness somewhat, thankfully.

Warnings: Smut and sexual references, violence, detailed descriptions of vampires biting/drinking blood, swearing, insecurity and low self esteem for reader, hints at an emotionally abusive past relationship, references to past cheating, alcohol use, some bad treatment of reader by Bucky, injury/near death, potentially dubcon as it could be argued the vampire/human dynamic is on shaky ground in that sense - but reader is an enthusiastic participant. These warnings are not exhaustive so please proceed at your own risk.

In my head this Bucky is Civil War era Bucky - beefy with longer hair, but of course you are free to picture your favourite Bucky incarnation - that's the beauty of fic! Reader is fem, generally undescribed but has hair long enough to be in her face.

And yeah it’s purely self indulgent sexy vampire shit. Apologies.

🩸

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

[sashaisready]

This Must Be The Place: Chapter 1 - Home is where I want to be

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: death of a loved one, grief, angst (it gonna be angsty!), Bucky not always being a good guy.

You sighed heavily as you pulled up to the house in your beaten-up Mustang. Hard to believe you were back, but life certainly has a sense of humour.

You parked up and leaned against the driver’s door, looking up at your new home.

Well, old home.

Granny’s place.

Once the centre of your world – a place of home baked cookies and tyre swings, of blanket forts and climbed trees. Of carefully tended to scraped knees and long hugs on the couch in front of Granny’s favourite shows. Sitcom reruns and Murder She Wrote, more lemonade than you could ever feasibly drink.

You came to visit every summer and they were the best summers of your life. But of course, you got older. As you grew, you wanted to spend your summers with friends, to kiss boys and go to the diner with Stacey and Monique. Granny’s place would always hold a large piece of your heart, but you grew up. You looked back now with a sense of sadness, wishing you’d gone for one more summer. Maybe two.

Granny understood. She was always telling you to spread your wings and live. ‘Don’t tread water, Cub’, she’d tell you. ‘Go out there and enjoy yourself’.

And you did. Maybe a little too hard.

You stayed close with Granny despite the physical distance between you as you moved across the state for school. Plenty of phone calls and letters were shared, and she’d send you novelty postcards she found at gas stations and thought you’d find funny. You still had a pile stored in a shoebox, now shoved into your car’s trunk with all your other worldly possessions.

You still visited occasionally, always telling yourself you needed to come more – she needed someone to clear out the attic, to sort out her paperwork, fix the old fence. You should sort that. The town was nice enough, but the biker gang that owned the local dive bar and auto shop gave you a bad feeling. You’d hear the roar of their motorcycles late at night, feeling grateful that was Granny was safe on the outskirts of town.

A few months ago, just as you were looking at your calendar to arrange your next visit, she suffered a sudden, huge heart attack. The hospital staff told you on the phone that it was quick, mercifully. She was in front of the TV, sipping a cup of tea. It would’ve been exactly how she wanted to go, quick and comfortable in her castle. No long, drawn-out illness. No forgetting her own name or wasting away in a bed. She often told you her worst nightmare was to become a burden and forget the life she’d lived.

But you couldn’t shed the guilt that she died alone. If you’d been there…

Your parents meant well but weren’t particularly distraught. You and Granny were closer than anyone else in the family. Still, ever the pragmatists, they arranged the funeral and filed the paperwork while you pulled yourself together. Granny was organised enough to have a will, and even had a document in her bureau with details of her finances and who to contact for every possible loose end that might need tying up in the event of her death.

Despite your closeness, it was still a huge shock when you found out she’d left the house solely to you, and nobody else in the family. Her few savings were divided between her children and other grandchildren. But you got the house.

‘Cub’, read the note in the will. ‘You loved this place, so it’s yours. I don’t care what you do with it. You can sell up and use the proceeds to take a vacation for all I care. Buy a fancy car or a designer bag or even invest in something dumb. You can stay here and lay down roots. Whatever you want. It’s all yours. Just fix that damn fence before you do anything’.

Nobody in the family quibbled it. The property wasn’t worth much, and nobody wanted to sort through Granny’s things, so here you were. Still mourning, but trying to move forward.

You didn’t really have a plan. You weren’t exactly set up in life, even flailing, some might say. Flitting between bullshit jobs and bullshittier boyfriends. No real roots or ambitions. You decided to move in for a while and sort the house out. Maybe get a temp part time job in town to keep you afloat. At least you didn’t have to pay rent. Then you’d sort Granny’s things, give the place a lick of paint, fix the aforementioned damn fence, then you’d decide. But you’d probably sell up. I mean, what would keep you here?

*

You spent a few hours getting your own stuff moved in and sizing up the task ahead. Granny’s place was clean, spotless in fact, but she was a bit of a hoarder. There were endless Rubbermaid tubs of clothes and blankets, spices in the pantry older than you were, and cardboard boxes of seemingly every birthday and Christmas card she’d ever received.

You also weren’t prepared for the emotional impact. Every corner held a childhood memory, you could practically hear the radio she used to play as she cooked, smell whatever mouthwatering dish she’d be whipping up that day.

You channelled your energy into the work and made some calls. There was a Goodwill store in town and a women’s refuge a few miles away, and they were very keen to take some of Granny’s things off your hands. You made plans to do some drop-offs over the coming weeks. You arranged to have wifi installed and took some time getting utility bills moved into your name.

You sat at the dining room table with a glass of water, exhausted, when your phone buzzed with a text notification.

“Hey! Are you here? How about we catch up with drinks tonight?”

Wanda. The one person you knew in this town apart from Granny. You’d played together as kids and hung out every summer. As you got older, you stayed in touch on social media and would go for coffee when you visited Granny. You liked her a lot. She had reached out to you when Granny died (as apparently everyone knows everyone here) and you’d thanked her. You kept her updated with your plans with the move. She’d always stayed here in this town, getting serious with her boyfriend Vis and settling down.

Part of you wanted to keep your head down, but you knew you’d benefit from some company, especially Wanda’s. You didn’t want to be the weird recluse living in her dead grandmother’s house who only ventured outside to buy groceries. Besides, it would be nice to reconnect with her.

“Hey!”, you replied. “Sure am. Just getting comfortable. Okay, sure. I could use a drink. Where we going?”

She responded seconds later. “The Snake Pit. Yeah, I know it sounds scary but it’s okay, really! The Howling Commandos own it, but they’re cool when you get to know them. Vis and I will pick you up at 8?”

You sighed. Great. Drinking in some biker gang’s sleazy dive bar. This was your life now. Well, you’d had worse Saturday nights.

“Alright. See you then” you fired back before you could talk yourself out of it.

*

Wanda was right. The Snake Pit was okay. A little dark and dingy inside, but a more varied clientele than you’d expected. There was everyone from excitable college girls to the old geezers nursing a single bottle of Bud for over an hour. You had worked in bars; you knew the types well. It wasn’t the rowdy biker gang hangout you expected, but you guessed options are limited for drinkers when there’s only one drinking hole in town.

The bartender was a little all over the place, messing up a few orders and rushing to get everything done. He seemed to be serving people haphazardly with little regard for who was there first. Fine. Whatever.

Splayed across barstools and were the Howling Commandos themselves. All clad in heavy leather and denim, they joked and drank beer with each other while keeping a close eye on the customers. You got the impression they weren’t necessarily looking for trouble but wouldn’t hesitate to deal with it should some occur. A broad blonde with a thick beard seemed to be in charge, you could see in the way the others hovered around him that he held some sort of authority. They were quite intimidating in their matching kuttes and big boots, but you supposed that was the point.

The blonde man locked eyes with you and watched you, a mix of curiosity and wariness on his face. His eyes were blue and strong, the intensity of his glare causing you to turn away as you went back to nodding at the story Wanda was telling. You had a strange feeling of dread in your stomach, but maybe that was just the anxiety of being somewhere new.

“You wanna play pool?” she asked, nodding towards the corner.

There were a couple of pool tables and the back of the room, with a dartboard nailed to the wall not far from them.

“Sure,” you smiled as you stood up and grabbed your drink, “I’m a little rusty…it’s been a while”.

“Modesty I’m sure,” Vis grinned as they followed you over. “I bet you’re secretly a dark horse”.

You winked jokingly as the three of you laughed and moved towards the table. It was nice to catch up with them, you settled in so comfortably together that it was as if you did this every week.

As you set up the balls and chalked your cue, you felt the presence of a group moving behind you. The Commandos group had moved from the bar and headed to the dart board, jeering and laughing as they lined up to take their turn. A striking redhead, the sole woman in the group, was busting their balls about their darts ability (or lack thereof).

“Hey” you heard Wanda say softly as you moved around the table, and a few of them murmured greetings back at her.

They were being loud and obnoxious as they ragged on each other for their poor aim, and you suppressed an eyeroll as you leaned over the table to take your shot.

The laughter got louder as you pulled your cue back and aimed, they were practically shouting, you pushed your cue forward through your fingers and moved to the ball and-

Pain.

PAIN.

You flinched and your legs buckled as the cue clipped the ball and sent it flying in the wrong direction. You felt a pressure and a sting as your brain tried to catch up with what had happened. You could hear Wanda gasping and Vis talking to you calmly as another voice interrupted.

“Ohmygod…Ohmygodsorry…I didn’t…oh my god, FUCK” they said, the panic evident.

You turned and looked, to your horror, to discover one of the darts embedded in one of your ass cheeks. This surely couldn’t be happening??

As you turned back towards the panicking voice in front of you, it became immediately evident who was the perpetrator.

He was young, chocolate brown hair slicked back to reveal a baby face. Wide, horrified chestnut eyes stared at you. Despite the kutte and motorcycle boots, he looked like a scared little boy. Behind him stood members of the gang, some smirking, some rolling their eyes and nudging each other. They didn’t intervene, just enjoyed the show. You felt your face flush with mortification.

“What…what the fuck is wrong with you?” you spat, furious as well as in pain. You noticed the entire bar had stopped to watch. You gripped the dart but couldn’t quite build up the courage to pull it out.

“Are you stupid...?” you continued as he just stared at you, his mouth flapping like a fish as he tried and failed to explain himself.

Wanda said your name in a wary tone and Vis told you it was okay. Even through your angry haze you could tell they were nervous about where this was going.

“Hey…come on now,” said someone else. “You all shut up”.

The group quickly parted and quietened as the blonde man from earlier appeared in front of you. “Parker…” he sighed under his breath.

“Look…it was an accident, okay?” he told you sternly. “I’m sorry…look, I’m Steve, I’m the co-owner and-”

“I don’t care!” you hissed. “What the fuck kinda place are you running here?”

You knew you sounded shrill, but you were upset and embarrassed. And it hurt! You were half aware of the group suddenly tensing up, the atmosphere in the air shifting to something a bit darker.

The man raised a brow in annoyance and went to speak again when you suddenly yelped, feeling a hard sting in your bottom half and then an immediate loss of pressure.

Someone had yanked the dart out.

You turned, aghast, to a man who had suddenly appeared behind you.

“What the fu-,” you exclaimed as you looked at him.

Your words died on your tongue as you were greeted by the face of the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. Long, coffee-coloured waves of hair sat at his well-chiselled jawline. Big, broad shoulders stretched out a clinging white t-shirt beneath his kutte. He had a metal arm that moved robotically, but mostly you were caught in the depths of the cerulean pools of his eyes. The others all seemed to straighten up and go quiet in a way they hadn’t even done with Steve. This must be the other owner, then.

He smirked and waved the dart in front of you. “Fixed it”.

You furrowed your brows. “Ow…” you said monotonously.

“You want some ice for that or…?” he smiled a wide bright smile, and you did your best to ignore something igniting deep within you.

“It’s funny, is it?” you scowled. “I could sue for this…”

Could you? You didn’t know if you could. But you were too mad to stop.

The man sighed.

“Look…we’re sorry. Parker’s sorry. Steve’s sorry, and I, Bucky, am sorry,” he told you, his voice softening. “Parker can’t play darts for shit but he’s never been a safety hazard until now. It was bad luck. He sure as hell won’t be playing again. Now, how about we get you and your friends a round of drinks on the house to apologise? And if you still wanna stay after that, you can get as much beer and pool as you want – no charge.”

You looked at Parker who was still visibly panicking but not quite as much, then Steve who watched you curiously. Wanda and Vis were nodding effusively as if encouraging you to accept his offer. You were still angry but didn’t really want to piss off the local motorcycle gang on your first night here. You were grateful for this de-escalation, even if you were still mad. You could practically see the room start to relax again.

“Fine” you sighed with defeat, rubbing the sore spot on your backside. “But a warning you were about to do that would’ve been nice”.

He laughed, “Yeah…but I didn’t want you to freak out”.

Ugh. His laugh. His perfect laugh.

You rolled your eyes, annoyed that he was right, you would’ve freaked out if you’d known. You felt yourself mellowing, then became irritated at yourself for folding so easily for a handsome man. Habit of a lifetime, huh?

“Maybe you should still ask before getting that close to someone” you muttered.

“Point taken”.

He smiled with amusement and gestured you towards the bar and you followed, nodding to Wanda and Vis that you’d be right back. The rest of the bar’s patrons went back to their drinks and conversations as if nothing had happened. The darts game continued, with Parker noticeably sitting down away from anything sharp and pointy.

“He means well…he’s new at all this,” Bucky explained as he watched your eyes follow Parker. “He gets ahead of himself when they rile him up”.

“Well, your friends thought it was hilarious”.

“Trust me, they were laughing at him. Not at you. But yeah, it was kinda funny”.

You huffed and leaned on the bar, giving him a side eye and only replying with your drink order. Bucky signalled to the bartender who nodded and looked flustered as tried to speed up serving his customer.

“Your bartender sucks” you muttered.

“I mean he’s a little slow but-,”

“No. He sucks. Why is he doing a Guinness now? You pour a Guinness first and let it settle, do the rest of the drinks, then come back and top it off,” you explained as you pointed to the sloppily poured lager he’d put on the bar. “And does your customer want any beer with that foam?”

Bucky laughed again. “Well, okay. Point taken, Sugar. Are you saying you could do better?”

“Sure. A monkey could do better…”

He laughed again, turning to look at you as he smiled and watched you with curious eyes. “What did you say your name was again…?”

*

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #james bucky barnes #this must be the place fic #biker!bucky #motorcycle club au bucky

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This Must Be The Place (in progress)

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.

Warnings for: death of a loved one, grief, angst (it gonna be angsty!), Bucky not always being a good guy.

Full disclosure I'm not entirely sure where this came from...or where it's going lmao?? But I've wanted to do my own Biker!Bucky for a long time. Planning on this one to be ANGSTY and Bucky and Reader (Sugar) are going to be super stubborn hehehe.

Title comes from my fave Talking Heads song.

Let me know what you think! Always grateful for comments and reblogs.

Chapter One - Home is where I want to be

Chapter Two - Feet on the ground

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #james bucky barnes #this must be the place fic #biker!bucky #motorcycle club au bucky

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1: PRIYA & JAMIE

You love your best friend but you can't find the courage to tell him. It doesn't matter because things are perfect between you... until they aren't. Everything changes the day Bucky introduces you to his new girlfriend.

Word count: 3.1k

Warning: angsty feelings, jealousy, feelings of betrayal

Sticks and Stones was your favorite place. Not because of the amazing meals, or the roaring fireplace that made the winter evenings warmer, or even the stone oven that produced the most scrumptious pizzas. No, it was because once a month, you shared a meal with your best friend, James Buchanan Barnes. You jovially referred to it as date night, the one night you were guaranteed a time alone with your best pal.

Normally when you arrived, you'd find Bucky waiting patiently for you, having ordered his and your favorite drinks. But today, you'd been out in town, enjoying some time off from work and you'd arrived early. You were pleased that for once, you'd be able to return the favor.

"Darling!" Victor, your usual waiter greeted you. "You're here early! Beat Mr Bucky to the punch today! Want me to bring the usual?"

"Yes please, Victor! Thanks!"

You glanced around, making yourself comfortable as you waited for Bucky to arrive. Victor brought your drinks and you couldn't resist taking a sip of the fruity house wine that you always enjoyed. You savored the taste and tingly feeling of it slipping down your throat. There was an instant feel of comfort and familiarity in the setting and you smiled dreamily, lost in the moment.

The time you spent with Bucky was very special to you. When you weren't out risking your lives and watching each other's backs for S.H.I.E.L.D., the two of you tried to spend your free time together. Truth be told, you were harboring feelings of more than simple friendship for the super soldier. The bond you shared was tighter than any other relationship you'd had in the past. But you longed for more and during these ‘dates’ you could imagine that your feelings were reciprocated. It was a tap on your shoulder that brought you back to reality.

"Hey!" Bucky's smiling face popped into your visual field.

"Buck!" You smiled from ear to ear. It was always a comfort to see him. Jumping out of your seat, you wrapped your arms around his neck in a hug. Bucky's strong arms wound their way around your waist and your chin snuggled into the nook between his shoulder and neck. As he squeezed you tightly, you noticed someone standing awkwardly behind him.

Gently, you pulled out of your best friend's embrace, smiling at the gorgeous stranger in tight fitting jeans and a perfectly tailored red halter neck blouse. You were slightly star struck by her beauty, she was in appearance, everything you wished you were.

"Hi," you smiled at her. Even though you were impressed by her appearance, something about her presence didn't sit right with you.

"Oh Cricket, this is Priya. Doll, this is Y/N, but we call her Cricket."

Did he just call her Doll? You frowned slightly. That was his nickname for you. The discomfort you had felt intensified.

"Hey, Cricket. It's nice to meet you." Priya offered her hand, which you shook, more as a reflex. "Jamie here has told me so much about you."

"Jamie?" You frowned again, looking at Bucky.

He scratched the back of his head bashfully, chuckling slightly at her pet name for him. "Priya!" Bucky admonished jokingly.

Breathlessly, you watched as he pulled out a chair for this woman to sit down. He was a perfect gentleman. He waved Victor over and grabbed a chair from the table adjacent to you and sat down. "Why’re you still standing?" he asked you.

Wordlessly, you lowered yourself back into your chair, reaching out to your glass of wine and taking a larger than necessary mouthful. This time though there was a searing burning in your chest that was probably nothing to do with the alcohol trickling down your esophagus. 

"So, how do you two know each other?" The words were coming out of your mouth but you had no idea who was controlling it. You also knew that you didn't want to hear the answer.

"Priya’s my girlfriend." Bucky beamed, looking at Priya. He never smiled like this at anyone other than you.

"Jamie and I met four months ago. Right here! I saw him sitting here on his own and I just couldn't let such a handsome man be lonely." Priya ran her fingers through Bucky's hair.

Your mind was reeling at the information that had just been dropped on you and your world felt like it was spinning. You felt a pang of jealousy and sadness as you listened to Priya gush about how she met Bucky. How much alcohol had you drunk? Your mouth felt dry but your eyes burned. Your ears were ringing and everyone suddenly seemed very far away. You tried to smile and act happy for them, but it was hard to hide your true feelings. You wondered how Bucky could have kept this a secret from you for four months. Was he ashamed of you? Did he not trust you? Did he not care about you?

"I… I don't understand. What do you mean you met here?" You stuttered.

"Remember that time you were forced to cancel on me, ‘cause of the last minute mission Steve dragged you on?"

"Yea-" you whispered in answer.

"It was that day." Bucky looked at you.

"So what? You just found an instant replacement?" The words slipped out of your mouth with a lot more spite than you'd intended.

"Of course not, Cricket." Bucky frowned, he wasn't sure what he had expected but this was not the reaction he had imagined from you. "You're my best friend."

"Yeah," you sighed.

Under the table, you found yourself gripping the sides of your chair so tightly that your knuckles were turning white. Maybe if you had been given time to emotionally prepare yourself for this introduction, you would have reacted more gracefully than you were doing at this very moment. But the shock of being face to face with Bucky’s girlfriend was so far down on your list of expectations, that you didn’t seem to have any control over your brain or your mouth.

"Aww, Jamie, I thought I was your best friend now," Priya smiled at Bucky, batting her eyelids at him. She slipped her arms around his beefy bicep and leaned in for a kiss.

To your surprise, Bucky laughed and leaned in, engaging in a slow and gag-worthy kiss. You wanted to run, to scream, to cry, you wanted someone to pinch you, to shake you awake from the nightmare you seemed to be stuck in. A dream, that’s what it was, just a bad dream. If you played along, you’d wake up in your bed having fallen asleep beside your best friend watching bad movies all night because he had a nightmare. You didn’t want to be rude or cause a scene either. You also didn’t want to lose Bucky, even if he had already chosen someone else. You loved him too much to let him go.

You plastered a smile across your face, deciding to stay, enduring the torture of watching them be happy together. "Congratulations, Bucky. It’s good that you’ve found someone special." The words sounded forced, at least they did in your mind. Emotionless. You meant what you said, it was good that Bucky had found someone. You just wished that someone was you. He deserved happiness, you just wanted to be the one to give it to him.

You had known all along that you wouldn’t be that person. Every time he had put his arms around you, every time he came to you for comfort after a nightmare, every time you shared a meal, every time those brilliant blue eyes gazed into yours, he had had the opportunity to take things one step further. And as much as you longed for it, that step never came.

Bucky gave you a scrutinizing stare for what felt like an eternity before accepting your words. "Thank you," he smiled, breaking your heart all over again.

"So, Cricket! I assume that's not really your name. How did it come about?"

Bucky laughed, recalling the memory. "Cricket had only been with the team for two months, but she was immediately everyone's conscience. It was almost kinda annoying."

You scowled.

"Come on, Cricket, don't be like that." Bucky smiled at you and it melted the scowl off your face. "Natasha used to call her Jiminy Cricket and it's just stuck."

"And how long have you and James known each other?" Priya asked you.

"It’s been two years," you smiled, the first genuine one since you had seen them together. "But we've been partners for 18 months."

You felt the need to emphasize your closeness with Bucky.

"Wow, James said the two of you were close." She turned to Bucky, directing her question at him. "How come you never mentioned us to her?

Bucky had the decency to look uncomfortable, his eyes flitting between you and Priya but never maintaining eye contact with either of you. Your immediate instinct was to help him out, to ease his discomfort. But the little person inside your brain that often sat on your shoulder with horns on its head asked you why he deserved it. Why had he lied to you for the past four months? What was he trying to hide from you? He was really putting your little crickets through their paces. 

"I just wasn’t ready to share you with anyone else," Bucky answered in his most charming manner.

Priya giggled and you closed your eyes in an effort to keep them from seeing your exasperated eye roll.

"We should order before they close the kitchen. It’s getting late. What do you want?" Bucky asked Priya.

It almost felt like you didn’t exist.

"Want to share a pizza?" she responded.

"Sounds great, Doll!" He smiled at her. "What do you want, Cricket?" 

"Umm, I-" You had no idea what you wanted. Pizza with Bucky was your go to. It had been a while since you’d sampled anything from the menu. "I need to look." You picked up the faux-leather bound booklet with meal options, grateful to be able to hide your face behind it. The last thing you wanted was for Priya or Bucky to see your quivering lip or tear filled eyes.

You only emerged when Victor approached, placing a hand on your shoulder. "Miss Y/L/N. Would you and Mr Bucky like your usual?"

"No Victor, could I have the cajun pasta please?"

Priya gave hers and Bucky’s orders to Victor who walked away promising only a short wait for your meals. A silence settled over the tablet as you contemplated how Priya took charge of their order. It had taken you a long time to get Bucky to understand that he had autonomy and was allowed to voice his opinions. You always did your best to give Bucky the time to process his decisions and articulate them. You worried that he would lose that. However, Priya used silence as an opportunity to ask you a few more questions.

"So, Cricket. How did you end up joining S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

You shrugged. "Just kinda happened. Sometimes life has a way of pushing you into something unexpected, you just have to make the most of it." You had no desire to share the most painful events in your life with a complete stranger. "And what do you do, Priya?"

"My job isn’t as exciting as yours, I’m afraid. I’m a surgeon."

"She is being modest," Bucky interjected proudly, "She is a kid’s surgeon."

You felt like you were being punched in the gut. You had gone to medical school before you’d joined S.H.I.E.L.D., but life had different plans for you and you’d ended up being recruited to S.H.I.E.L.D. soon after your internship. 

You plastered a smile across your face and delivered the socially acceptable response. "Wow, pediatrics. That’s hard work." 

"Worth it though, when you see the smiles on the kids' faces when they walk out of the hospital."

"I’m impressed that you find the time to date. I can barely find time for myself. Feels like too much hard work!" You forced a laugh from your lips.

"Well, being with James isn’t work at all. In fact, he gives me a reason to leave the hospital."

Bucky blushed. "Thanks, Doll."

Luckily you were spared further awkward conversation by the arrival of your dinner.

"Eat up kids, we’re closing up soon!" Victor boomed.

The rest of the meal was eaten in relative silence, Bucky and Priya exchanging some small talk as you poked and prodded at the food on your plate. Their honeymoon phase was sickening and all you wanted was to leave.

Closing time came around eventually, although not as soon as you would have liked.

"Darling, what's the matter? You didn't like pasta?" Victor came to clear your plates and usher you out of the establishment.

"It was really good, just a bit spicy." You blushed while telling the lie, your inner cricket screaming at you. 

"Next time we'll make sure you can eat it all then." Victor smiled at you kindly. 

You felt terrible, but you didn't want anyone to see how upset you really were, especially Bucky. Not that he would notice, he was too busy draping his jacket over Priya’s shoulders. It didn’t mean very much to you at that moment, but the second you stepped outside, you realized that your evening wasn’t going to get any better. Bucky’s bike was parked right outside and you understood what that meant.

"Cricket, we’ll see you back at the compound!" Bucky smiled, leading his girlfriend to the bike with his hand at her back. "Don’t want to get caught in the rain."

You nodded mutely, watching them speed away. When you had asked Nat to drop you off in town, it had been with the intention that you would catch a ride back with Bucky, as you always did. You were left standing on the curb in a sundress and a light jacket. It had been a warm day for late October, but as the sun had set, thunder clouds had rolled in and Thor’s distant cousins were making a ruckus in the distance and seemed to be heading in your direction. The notion that you could walk home was something you entertained for a total of two seconds, as your heel got stuck in a grate on the sidewalk. You sighed heavily as a couple of raindrops splashed on your shoulder.

Pulling out your phone, you tapped on the local transportation apps, but there were no cabs to be seen. Not that anyone would be willing to drive you out into the country at this time in the evening. There was only one choice left, you needed to call one of your friends to pick you up. Resigned to an awkward conversation, you scrolled through your phone for someone to contact.

Nat… no, she wasn’t around. Sam… no answer. Steve… the phone rang a couple of times, before a sleepy voice answered.

"Hello?"

"Steve, were you sleeping?" you asked, anxiously.

"No," came his dishonest answer.

"I’m sorry, go back to sleep." You hated imposing on people and knowing that you had woken Steve from what was probably much needed slumber, made you felt terrible.

"What’s wrong?"

"Nothing, it’s okay, Steve." What were you thinking? Why were you not asking for a lift?

"Cricket."

"Could you please pick me up from town?" you asked, in a small voice.

Steve sat up in bed, your voice drowned out by a loud crack of thunder. "Wait, aren’t you with Bucky?"

"No, Buck-" you weren’t sure how much Steve knew about Bucky’s girlfriend. "I’m not with Bucky. He’s busy."

"With Priya?"

So Steve knew. Naturally. Steve was Bucky’s family, of course he would tell him before he told you. A tear dropped down from your eye as you nodded. "Yeah," you whispered, realizing that Steve couldn’t actually see you.

"I’m sorry. Give me half an hour, I’m coming."

"Thanks, Steve."

You hung up the phone and looked around. The street was deserted and everything felt so much darker than before. The rain, which had been falling lightly, started coming down more heavily, seeping into your thin clothes and making you shiver. The tears that were now pouring down your face were practically indistinguishable from the raindrops. This felt like the perfect ending for how you felt about your day.

True to his word, Steve arrived in twenty eight minutes. And you sunk into the passenger seat of his car looking like a bedraggled rat. He didn’t ask you any more questions, for which you were grateful. Wordlessly, he slipped off his hoodie and offered it to you. You took it, pulling the soft material over your head, thankful for the warmth it provided. The hood covered your eyes and you did nothing to move the wet strands of hair that were plastered across your face. It took all your self control to not start sobbing in the car with Steve. Luckily for you, Steve turned up the seat warmer on your seat and focused solely on the road as he started the journey back to the compound.

When he eventually pulled into the garage, Steve yanked up the parking brake, turned off the ignition and jumped out before you had the chance to unfasten your seat belt. He opened the door for you and you got out reluctantly. A feeling of dread washed over you. What if Bucky and Priya saw you like this? They were already here, you had immediately spotted Bucky's bike in the corner. You knew he had brought Priya back to the compound because Bucky hadn’t bothered to store his spare helmet, and he would have secured it if he had ridden home alone. A horrifying image of them having sex invaded your mind for a moment, but Steve’s voice distracted you.

"Come on, I'll walk you back to your room." Steve offered you a hand to help you out of the car.

"I'm sorry for making you come out to get me. I should have taken my car. I just thought-"

"It's okay. Let's go." Steve said kindly, wrapping his arm around you, offering his support and warmth. He stopped right outside your bedroom door. "Do you need anything?" he asked, brushing your hair out of your face.

You shook your head, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Thank you," you muttered in his ear.

Steve pressed a kiss to your forehead. "Good night."

Neither of you noticed Bucky returning from the kitchen with two glasses in his hands, watching you and Steve from the shadows.

MASTERLIST > Next chapter

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Sebastian Stan + hair moments

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😭

You fought with Bucky 

This is a lil head canon about the aftermath of an argument with your boyfriend Bucky. Warning for some angst (but fluff too). Longer than I expected!! Hope you like 💖

*Your face felt flushed and your stomach twisted with nerves, the two of you rarely fought and if you did - you would make up right away. He’d stormed out of the apartment half an hour ago and you hadn’t heard anything since, you kept checking your phone - anxiously hovering your finger over the call button of his name in your contacts. 

*It was dumb. What had started as a silly squabble about household chores turned into a full blown argument, both of you firing verbal missiles across the kitchen as your petty gripes were used as weapons. You were both angry, both stubborn. Both hotheaded. He’d said some cruel things, but so had you.

*You’d wanted to apologise but your hurt and anger held you back. He’d gone too far…maybe you had as well, but his words rang in your ears as you painstakingly pored over each detail in your head. You wiped your tear stained cheeks and anxiously chewed your fingernails. What he’d said…Is that what he really thought of you? 

*Long buried fears teased you from the hidden depths of your brain. The insecurities, the doubts. The worry that you weren’t good enough for him, that you couldn’t make him happy or give him what he needed. You thought these concerns had been long extinguished, eradicated entirely by Bucky’s love for you. His affection had anchored you, made you finally see you were worthy of him. Worthy of love. But the embers of those fears must’ve remained deep below, ready to reignite when they were given the spark to do so. Now their fire burned again. 

*Eventually you’d retired to your bedroom. Unable to eat much or concentrate on that crappy Netflix show you’d put on, your phone screen still blank and silent. You sunk into your sheets, smelling Bucky on them and unable to stop your tears as you remembered how he’d held you so tenderly in them just hours before. 

*You began to make a plan. You’d need a place to stay when he eventually came home and ended things. If he even came home….Your brain snapped into action mode as a survival mechanism, mentally making a list of people you could potentially stay with - how easily you could travel to work from each of their houses. How you could transport your stuff…Would someone help you move? Maybe you could hire a storage unit until you got back on your feet. Maybe you could move to a new city….Maybe…

*You must’ve fallen asleep at some point during your catastrophizing. You woke as the mattress shifted in the dark, a heavy but familiar warmth from behind wrapping around your torso, two hands - one flesh, one metal, encircling your waist. The smell of him on the sheets now suddenly overpowering as it surrounded you. You tried to speak, but your throat tightened and dried as you could only utter a single whimper.

*He cooed and hushed in your ear as your tears fell. His nose nuzzling your jawline as your quiet cries escaped. ‘Just let me have tonight’ you pleaded. ‘I’m sorry. I’ll be gone by the morning’.

*He tutted and sighed. His breath hot on the back of your neck. ‘Doll….’ He whispered, somehow both gentle and chastising at the same time. ‘Always so dramatic…You’re not going anywhere…’. A kiss then, soft lips dragging across your cheek. ‘You think you can get rid of me that easily?’

*You choked back a sob as relief flooded every inch of you, your body slackening into his. All of your tension and fear escaping at once. ‘I’m sorry-I..I didn’t mean..I wanted to call - I’m sorry…’ the words left your mouth faster than you could think them. A panicked jumble as he soothed and held you tightly. ‘It’s okay’ he whispered. ‘I’m so sorry, Doll’.

*Silence then. Just the brushing of clothes and your old bed creaking as your bodies slotted together perfectly like they always had. You held him close and muttered a prayer of apologies into his ear while he shook his head and ran his thumb down your spine, wordlessly putting your pieces back together again.

*’I thought you would leave’ you admitted softly as the final tears fell. He stiffened at that, his soothing demeanour wounded by the pain he had caused. ‘I’m sorry I made you think that’ he uttered quietly. ‘And I’m sorry I didn’t get in touch. I was hurt by what happened, upset that we fought…I just needed some space. But I love you. And a stupid fight would never change that. Okay?’

*You nodded, smiling in the dark as he caressed your face so tenderly that it caught you off guard. No more words now, just bodies on the mattress tied up in each other. Noses brushing, fingers entwined. Breathing both in time. The remainder of both of your apologies unsaid yet somehow loudly declared, a shared, private language in that creaking old bed. 

[sashaisready]

This is so kind thank you - so glad you enjoyed it! 🥰❤️

Awakened 🌼 (Completed)

Lee Bodecker (The Devil All The Time) x Femme Reader

A year after the sudden death of your husband you find yourself at a loose end, unsure what to do next. You're also learning about your sexuality - your hidden desires and fantasies creeping out now you're no longer playing the role of the good wife. A certain Sheriff in town could be the one to awaken something in you...

Warnings for: Smut, violence, sexual assault, death, murder, rough sexual activity.

Another Lee fic - also available on ao3/Wattpad, posting over here too. Probs my biggest porn with plot fic I’ve written lmao. I can’t help it, Lee just unlocks something filthy in me.

Also just to highlight: there is quite a lot of slut shaming/sexuality shaming in this fic. This is meant to be reflective of a small town during the time period, rather than my own views! One of the themes I'm interested in is women exploring their sexuality and kinks against a society which makes them feel shame for doing so

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

[sashaisready]

I’d definitely consider it! ❤️

I'm Still Here - Chapter Five

Lee Bodecker (The Devil All The Time) x Femme Reader

In late 60s Meade, you’re married to Sheriff Bodecker, pregnant with your first child. On paper you’re the perfect couple – the respectable Sheriff and his homemaker wife. This should be one of the happiest times of your life…so why are the two of you living like ghosts? And is it too late to bridge that gap? Especially when your husband is playing a dangerous game.

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Strong violence, mild violence/threat towards pregnant woman, gun violence, knife violence.

This is the final chapter, I hope you've enjoyed! As always I appreciate reblogs and comments. This was a bit different for me and I enjoyed exploring it.

Wordcount: 3.5k

You could hear the men downstairs, roaming around and picking things up, calling out your name. Lee let you use your real first name after you married him. After all, nobody would find you with Bodecker as your last name, and nobody knew who Honeybee really was, so there was no risk. It was Lee’s idea; he was very clear that you shouldn’t lose all of your previous self in order to make room for the new you. He still liked to call you Honey, a little nod to how you met.

You felt rage brimming within as they used your first name, as they moved around your house and pawed at your things. How dare they? Your name wasn’t for their mouths, your belongings not for their eyes. The audacity to come into your home, the first real home you’d ever had, shared with the man you loved (and soon shared with your child), and sullying it with their voices, their presence, their grubby hands. Your heart pinched as you briefly wondered what they’d done to Lee…if they had hurt him…if he was even still al-

…But you couldn’t think about him right now. You needed to concentrate on you and baby. There would be time for him later.

Your finger squeezed the trigger of the shotgun.

These men were not going to take away what you’d fought your entire life for. Yes, it wasn’t all smooth sailing right now, but it could be fixed. It could all be fixed. You could see that now, finally it was clear. This wasn’t their call to make. You didn’t know yet what they’d taken from you…but if it was Lee? Well. If you couldn’t save him, you would avenge him.

“You take upstairs, I’ll do the kitchen and the garage” you heard one of them say as they hovered at the foot of the staircase.

This was it. You had been flitting between strategies since you had pulled out the gun. You had considered fleeing, but you weren’t exactly agile in your current condition. Plus, most of the neighbours weren’t around, so where would you go? Even if you called the station, which wasn’t likely as the men would hear you first and corner you by the phone, the police wouldn’t get here in time anyway. Your only choice was to go on the offensive.

Them separating was good, much easier to take on one armed man than two. The question was whether you went in guns blazing (literally) and took out goon number one, knowing the sound would send goon number two straight up the stairs right to you. Or maybe you needed to dispatch goon number one more quietly, as not to alert suspicion of goon number two and retain the element of surprise. But a shotgun wasn’t exactly a subtle shot, even with a silencer. And there was more of a guarantee you’d take him out quickly if loudly, rather than with a quieter, more discreet method. The last thing you needed was two of them coming for you at once, especially if one is wounded and pissed about it. Lord knows you’d dealt with that enough times in the past to know it was best to avoid.

The careful footsteps up the stairs and then along the hallway meant the decision was made for you. You stayed perfectly still as he drew closer; he called out your name and you gave your stomach a final cursory rub as you watched the doorknob slowly rotate…

The door gently rolled open, and you could pinpoint the moment he saw you, his features pinging across his face in a look of surprise as his fist tightened around the pistol in his right hand.

“Mrs-”

But it was too late. You fired, your feet squatting apart to keep your balance from the inevitable recoil. It was much louder than you remembered it being, but maybe it just sounded that way in the cosy enclave of the spare bedroom. The noise thundered in your ears and the stench of gunpowder and heat hit your nose as you bounced backwards slightly.

You watched his expression change for a split second as he realised what was happening, but it was over quickly as the blood and tissue enveloped his fear. His heavy frame slumped to the floor with a sickening thud and just as quickly as he’d arrived, he was face down on the plush cream carpet. You were grateful not to see the full grisly aftermath of your handiwork.

“I promised I’d never do this again, but you left me no choice” you whispered regretfully to him as you pumped the weapon once more. But of course, he couldn’t hear you.

You toed the pistol out of his closed fist and kicked it under the dresser. It wasn’t like he was going to suddenly get up and start firing – but you could never be too careful.

You held the shotgun back up and tensed your ears through the slight ringing to try and make out the sounds in the rest of the house. The fact that his buddy hadn’t run up the stairs, or even called out to check on his friend, worried you. He was either a big rookie at this and was somewhere in the house cowering, or worst-case scenario – he was more experienced than that and was being more cautious than his departed pal as he waited to make his move.

You stayed where you were for a moment, listening to the sounds of the house. Nothing stood out. You could hear the low hum of the refrigerator downstairs and the distant song of a bird outside, but little else. The optimist in you hoped he had fled, but you would’ve heard the front door. After some time had passed, you took a couple of steps backwards while keeping your eyes on the door. You quickly glanced out of the window. Their van was still parked up out front. No sign of anyone outside.

You moved forward again, back to your post in front of the fallen man. If you glanced quickly you might think he was praying at your feet. The adrenaline was pumping hard as you steadied your breathing and kept the gun raised. You looked out into the hallway once more, seeing only the wedding photo of you and Lee affixed to the wall across from the doorway. You smiled. You both looked so happy.

And you had been happy. It had been difficult to transition to this new life, to give up thieving and fighting for pot roasts and furniture polish. To play your new role, to be a ‘normal’ wife, smile in the right places and pretend your mother had taught you to cook and clean and sew like everyone else’s had. There was an unspoken code all the other wives seemed to know that you could barely scratch the surface of. Every fibre of your being screamed that you didn’t belong.

However, falling for Lee had not been difficult. No. It was the easiest thing in the world. You supposed you were already halfway there long before his strange proposal in the woodshed that day. Part of you had always known. You imagined you would’ve found each other no matter which path you took. It was easy and effortless. It was the one thing you didn’t have to fake. There was no artifice in that wedding day smile. You’re not sure why he took a chance on you, but you were glad he did. You had cherished every moment with him. Every late-night conversation. Every handhold as you strolled in public. Every reassuring hand pressed onto your lower back when he knew you were feeling overwhelmed. Every groan in your ear as he slipped inside of you, every caress, every hungry kiss, every sweet embrace. The safest place in the world was in his arms when the two of you drifted off to sleep. He has saved you and given you a new start, and while it wasn’t always sunshine and rainbows, you were grateful. You wanted to make him proud.

And this was no exception.

Time passed and there was still no movement from the missing man. You were both in a stand-off, waiting the other out. It continued. The silence almost mocking.

After more time had passed (it felt like hours) you decided to take the bull by the horns and finish this. You would no longer be cornered in your home; you would tackle this how the Cypress gang used to. Finish it. For baby. For Lee. For you.

You took a deep breath and stepped carefully over the man’s body and out into the hallway, the shotgun raised, and your muscles clenched. You peered out tentatively. Nobody either side. Feeling emboldened you took another step forward.

Before you had time to plan your next move, the shotgun was unceremoniously yanked from behind, leaving your hands and tumbling you to the floor. Fuck. You looked up to a dark-haired man standing over you, the gun barrel pointing between your eyes. He was clenching his teeth in anger.

“You fucking bitch…” he growled.

He must’ve been hiding out in another room and waited until your guard was down. You should’ve caught that. Clearly, you were a little rusty.

“You’re gonna pay for that you whore” he snarled at you as he squinted over at the other man.

He sighed. “I’m sorry Bobo…” he muttered as he shook his head at the crumpled figure.

“Please…I-”

“Shut up” he barked, crashing the gun against your forehead. “You got lucky with your husband’s gun, but it won’t happen again”.

“Lee…Where…where is he?” you asked, your voice hoarse with fear.

“He’s alive” the man muttered. “Unfortunately.”

You thought you might throw up with the relief that flooded you. He was okay. Probably roughed up but okay. All the more reason to keep going.

“Please sir…I’m pregn-” you began to plead but he held up his hand and signalled for you to stop.

“I know. I’m not blind, sweetheart” he sighed, almost a hint of regret in his tone. “This isn’t personal, all right? Your fatass husband got you into this mess. I’m sorry”.

“You don’t have to do this…” you said quietly.

“I do” he sighed again. “I need to show Sheriff Bodecker who is in charge here”.

“What…what are you going to do to me? To us…?” you rubbed your stomach.

“Just get downstairs” he snapped. “Do what I say, and I’ll go as easy as I can”.

You nodded, your mind going a million miles an hour. Could you run? Try grab the gun off him? Scream?

“I’m going to stand up, alright?” you offered coyly, raising your hands to show you weren’t a threat.

He nodded and you slowly got to your feet. The little fall fortunately hadn’t been too rough. You were okay. Baby was okay.

All this man knew about you was that you were Lee’s little wife. He thought you got lucky with ‘Bobo’ or whoever that was. Don’t give him any reason to doubt that. Back in the gang, you used a similar routine all the time, all doe-eyed and flustered. Men always underestimated you. They simply could not fathom that you were anything less than meek and scared.

“P-please sir…” you mumbled tearfully, shaking a little.

Underestimating your enemy was the worst mistake you could make. He would soon learn that lesson.

He gestured you to go down the stairs and you cautiously descended, moving slowly. He followed close behind, the shotgun looming between your shoulder blades. He was muttering and cursing, clearly improvising all of this after unexpectedly losing his employee.

He led you to the living room when he told you to stop. Keeping the gun pointed on you, he rested it on his shoulder briefly as he used his free hand to dig around in a knapsack on the floor that he must’ve stashed when they came in earlier. You saw rope and duct tape spill out from the opening. You stood there, trembling.

Or he thought you were trembling, at least.

He pulled out a polaroid camera.

“First…I need to take a few ‘before’ pictures for the good Sheriff…” he murmured. “Really tell the story, y’know”.

Fumbling with the camera meant he lost his hold on the gun for a second. Knowing you might not get another chance; you seized the opportunity.

It all happened in slow motion.

You leapt over towards him and grabbed the shotgun barrel with one hand, punching his head away with the other. He was stronger than you, but the shock had thrown him. He managed to yank the handle and the trigger and fired, but your grappling with the barrel meant the bullet fired into the ceiling. You screamed into his face as he tried to pump the gun and reload, but you continued to wrestle the barrel away. He grunted with surprise but quickly regained his composure as he went to his pocket, and you knew he must’ve had a handgun there, just like his friend did.

In the ensuing tussle the two of you fell to the ground. He was on top of you as he cursed at you and went purple with rage, but you screamed right back at him. He pulled the handgun from his pocket with his free hand, and you grabbed at his wrist, trying to push it away.

“I’m going to enjoy this, bitch” he hissed between a clenched jaw as he raised the gun.

You slammed your hand down as hard as you could into his windpipe and as he choked and spluttered you retrieved Lee’s knife from your brassiere. You pulled it from its sheath and plunged it deep into his neck, twisting it to ensure it took. With your free hand you smacked the gun from his grasp as he moved his fingers to the knife handle. His eyes went wide as he fell forward, and you used the opportunity to roll away from underneath him as he hit the living room carpet, then pulled the gun away and unloaded it. He watched you in disbelief as he bled, stunned at what had just unfolded. You’d seen that look on men before.

“Yeah. Not what you expected, huh?” you taunted.

Panting and rubbing your belly you wiped the sweat from your brow as you took a second to recover. Baby kicked back in silent reciprocation. You noticed the blood on your hands and ruined dress. Just then, the man began to groan. He slowly moved himself up to his knees and began to crawl slowly towards the door.

You were overcome with rage as you sat up and sped towards him. Before you knew it you had pulled the knife from his neck, causing him to collapse as the blood poured.

“Motherfucker…coming into MY HOME. Hurting MY BABY. MY HUSBAND…” you screamed, punctuating your words with vicious strikes into his back.

He groaned and wheezed and begged as you continued to stab him, your anger a red cloud whipping you into a frenzy you couldn’t control. All your pent-up rage about what they’d tried to do, how they’d threatened you and baby, and Lee. Nearly losing Lee. And every bit of anger you had held onto – the injustice of the world, the unfair start you’d had in it, everything you’d either lost or never had as your own in the first place. How hard it was to slip into the shoes of a normal person because you’d never truly had the opportunity to try. Honeybee wasn’t dead after all, she was right here, and she would never fully leave.

Finally, exhausted, you dropped the knife and slid onto your back, panting. You cringed at the sight of the living room, crimson and stained with death, worlds away from the classically curated yet cosy space it was just a few minutes before. You panted, and just laid there.

*

Lee pulled the cruiser into the driveway so fast he knocked the mailbox over, crumpling it beneath his front tyre. Neighbours peeked through the curtains in horror as the Sheriff jumped from his car and high-tailed it across his front yard, shouting his wife’s name. He kicked through the front door, his voice booming with both anger and panic.

“Lee?” you called out from the living room, snapped out of your haze.

“Honey…” he yelled as he soared towards you. His eyes bulged at the sight of Leroy’s back torn to ribbons.

You reached for him, and he grabbed you and pulled you close, holding you so tight it almost hurt. You gasped at his black eye and the bruises on his face as you traced them carefully with your finger.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” he repeated in your ear like a prayer as he kissed your temple and kissed your face and tenderly held you.

“Are you alright? Is baby alright?” he asked desperately.

“It’s okay baby, it’s okay. We’re okay” you cooed against his forehead as you kissed him back.

You told him it was okay, and that you’d taken care of it. You told him he needed to stop the shady shit and he promised he would, and he swore on the baby’s life between peppering desperate kisses all over your face.

He took a second to go and tell the peering neighbours it was okay, to stay outside and asked them to call the station as his wife had been the victim of a home invasion. Then he came back and pulled you away from Leroy and into the kitchen where he kissed you long and he kissed you hard, feeling every inch of your body as if he couldn’t believe you were here.

“I’ve missed you Lee” you finally said.

“I’ve missed you too, Honey” he sighed. “I know I’ve been distant…I guess I’m scared”.

“I’m scared too, Lee” you sniffed. “I know I haven’t exactly been present either…this is a lot for me too. But don’t shut me out, okay? We need to do this together”.

He nodded.

“I’m gonna be better…I promise”.

He held a tentative hand out to your stomach, moving it slowly towards you. You took it and gently placed it on your belly. He gasped as his fingers made contact with the swell.

“Our little baby…in there” he smiled.

You smiled back. “Sure is”.

As if on cue, the baby kicked back against his hand, causing Lee to chuckle in disbelief. His eyes brimmed with tears as your heart sang, this was what you wanted. Finally.

“Strong little thing…just like mama” he laughed.

You grinned back. “And daddy”.

His expression darkened. “I’m sorry…you had to do that. Like this. And alone. It must’ve brought back some tough memories…”

You sighed. “It’s okay. They were bad guys. They were going to hurt me and baby. They’d hurt you. I did what I had to do. I know I said I’d never do it again…but I had to”.

He nodded again, his fingers stroking at the blood soaked into your dress. “I’ll fix it for ya Honey. Alright? Home invasion. Pregnant woman. Leroy and Bobo were known to be involved in organised crime, they put a hit out on the Sheriff’s wife. It’s open and shut. Don’t worry about none of it. I’ll clean it up good and you shouldn’t even need to go to court”.

He pondered for a second. “Gonna be tricky to explain the multiple stab wounds in the back though...”

“Pregnancy hormones” you giggled.

Lee rolled his eyes and laughed with you. “I told them they’d die in this house…They just didn’t expect it would be because of you”.

“Yeah…that was unlucky for them” you snorted.

You both just stood there for a little while, both grateful to have the privilege of being together in this moment in time.

“I’m sorry Lee…another mess of mine for you to clean up…”

“Oh Hell, I like cleaning up your messes. Keeps me busy, outta trouble…” he smiled.

He tenderly held your chin between his fingers and looked into your eyes.

“I can’t believe I nearly lost you” he said gravely, shaking his head.

“Well, you didn’”t.

“I know…but I coulda”.

“Lee…” you said softly. “It’s gonna take more than two thugs with guns to get rid of me, you know that…You’re stuck with me.”

You smiled at your joke, trying to lighten the mood, but he just looked sullen.

“Sometimes I worry…that I’ve put a bird in a cage, here” he told you, his eyes wide and vulnerable. “Maybe you’re stuck with me”.

“No…no. You saved me, Lee” you whispered. “I’m not a prisoner here. I’m your wife”.

He smiled. And you smiled. And you knew it would all be okay, now. You both found your way back to each other once more. You weren’t a caged bird at all, you were free. Truly free for the first time in your life.

“I love you, Honeybee”.

“I love you too, Sheriff Bodecker”.

THE END

[sashaisready]

So glad you liked it!! And thank you for all your reblogs and lovely comments ❤️

I'm Still Here - Chapter Five

Lee Bodecker (The Devil All The Time) x Femme Reader

In late 60s Meade, you’re married to Sheriff Bodecker, pregnant with your first child. On paper you’re the perfect couple – the respectable Sheriff and his homemaker wife. This should be one of the happiest times of your life…so why are the two of you living like ghosts? And is it too late to bridge that gap? Especially when your husband is playing a dangerous game.

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Strong violence, mild violence/threat towards pregnant woman, gun violence, knife violence.

This is the final chapter, I hope you've enjoyed! As always I appreciate reblogs and comments. This was a bit different for me and I enjoyed exploring it.

Wordcount: 3.5k

You could hear the men downstairs, roaming around and picking things up, calling out your name. Lee let you use your real first name after you married him. After all, nobody would find you with Bodecker as your last name, and nobody knew who Honeybee really was, so there was no risk. It was Lee’s idea; he was very clear that you shouldn’t lose all of your previous self in order to make room for the new you. He still liked to call you Honey, a little nod to how you met.

You felt rage brimming within as they used your first name, as they moved around your house and pawed at your things. How dare they? Your name wasn’t for their mouths, your belongings not for their eyes. The audacity to come into your home, the first real home you’d ever had, shared with the man you loved (and soon shared with your child), and sullying it with their voices, their presence, their grubby hands. Your heart pinched as you briefly wondered what they’d done to Lee…if they had hurt him…if he was even still al-

…But you couldn’t think about him right now. You needed to concentrate on you and baby. There would be time for him later.

Your finger squeezed the trigger of the shotgun.

These men were not going to take away what you’d fought your entire life for. Yes, it wasn’t all smooth sailing right now, but it could be fixed. It could all be fixed. You could see that now, finally it was clear. This wasn’t their call to make. You didn’t know yet what they’d taken from you…but if it was Lee? Well. If you couldn’t save him, you would avenge him.

“You take upstairs, I’ll do the kitchen and the garage” you heard one of them say as they hovered at the foot of the staircase.

This was it. You had been flitting between strategies since you had pulled out the gun. You had considered fleeing, but you weren’t exactly agile in your current condition. Plus, most of the neighbours weren’t around, so where would you go? Even if you called the station, which wasn’t likely as the men would hear you first and corner you by the phone, the police wouldn’t get here in time anyway. Your only choice was to go on the offensive.

Them separating was good, much easier to take on one armed man than two. The question was whether you went in guns blazing (literally) and took out goon number one, knowing the sound would send goon number two straight up the stairs right to you. Or maybe you needed to dispatch goon number one more quietly, as not to alert suspicion of goon number two and retain the element of surprise. But a shotgun wasn’t exactly a subtle shot, even with a silencer. And there was more of a guarantee you’d take him out quickly if loudly, rather than with a quieter, more discreet method. The last thing you needed was two of them coming for you at once, especially if one is wounded and pissed about it. Lord knows you’d dealt with that enough times in the past to know it was best to avoid.

The careful footsteps up the stairs and then along the hallway meant the decision was made for you. You stayed perfectly still as he drew closer; he called out your name and you gave your stomach a final cursory rub as you watched the doorknob slowly rotate…

The door gently rolled open, and you could pinpoint the moment he saw you, his features pinging across his face in a look of surprise as his fist tightened around the pistol in his right hand.

“Mrs-”

But it was too late. You fired, your feet squatting apart to keep your balance from the inevitable recoil. It was much louder than you remembered it being, but maybe it just sounded that way in the cosy enclave of the spare bedroom. The noise thundered in your ears and the stench of gunpowder and heat hit your nose as you bounced backwards slightly.

You watched his expression change for a split second as he realised what was happening, but it was over quickly as the blood and tissue enveloped his fear. His heavy frame slumped to the floor with a sickening thud and just as quickly as he’d arrived, he was face down on the plush cream carpet. You were grateful not to see the full grisly aftermath of your handiwork.

“I promised I’d never do this again, but you left me no choice” you whispered regretfully to him as you pumped the weapon once more. But of course, he couldn’t hear you.

You toed the pistol out of his closed fist and kicked it under the dresser. It wasn’t like he was going to suddenly get up and start firing – but you could never be too careful.

You held the shotgun back up and tensed your ears through the slight ringing to try and make out the sounds in the rest of the house. The fact that his buddy hadn’t run up the stairs, or even called out to check on his friend, worried you. He was either a big rookie at this and was somewhere in the house cowering, or worst-case scenario – he was more experienced than that and was being more cautious than his departed pal as he waited to make his move.

You stayed where you were for a moment, listening to the sounds of the house. Nothing stood out. You could hear the low hum of the refrigerator downstairs and the distant song of a bird outside, but little else. The optimist in you hoped he had fled, but you would’ve heard the front door. After some time had passed, you took a couple of steps backwards while keeping your eyes on the door. You quickly glanced out of the window. Their van was still parked up out front. No sign of anyone outside.

You moved forward again, back to your post in front of the fallen man. If you glanced quickly you might think he was praying at your feet. The adrenaline was pumping hard as you steadied your breathing and kept the gun raised. You looked out into the hallway once more, seeing only the wedding photo of you and Lee affixed to the wall across from the doorway. You smiled. You both looked so happy.

And you had been happy. It had been difficult to transition to this new life, to give up thieving and fighting for pot roasts and furniture polish. To play your new role, to be a ‘normal’ wife, smile in the right places and pretend your mother had taught you to cook and clean and sew like everyone else’s had. There was an unspoken code all the other wives seemed to know that you could barely scratch the surface of. Every fibre of your being screamed that you didn’t belong.

However, falling for Lee had not been difficult. No. It was the easiest thing in the world. You supposed you were already halfway there long before his strange proposal in the woodshed that day. Part of you had always known. You imagined you would’ve found each other no matter which path you took. It was easy and effortless. It was the one thing you didn’t have to fake. There was no artifice in that wedding day smile. You’re not sure why he took a chance on you, but you were glad he did. You had cherished every moment with him. Every late-night conversation. Every handhold as you strolled in public. Every reassuring hand pressed onto your lower back when he knew you were feeling overwhelmed. Every groan in your ear as he slipped inside of you, every caress, every hungry kiss, every sweet embrace. The safest place in the world was in his arms when the two of you drifted off to sleep. He has saved you and given you a new start, and while it wasn’t always sunshine and rainbows, you were grateful. You wanted to make him proud.

And this was no exception.

Time passed and there was still no movement from the missing man. You were both in a stand-off, waiting the other out. It continued. The silence almost mocking.

After more time had passed (it felt like hours) you decided to take the bull by the horns and finish this. You would no longer be cornered in your home; you would tackle this how the Cypress gang used to. Finish it. For baby. For Lee. For you.

You took a deep breath and stepped carefully over the man’s body and out into the hallway, the shotgun raised, and your muscles clenched. You peered out tentatively. Nobody either side. Feeling emboldened you took another step forward.

Before you had time to plan your next move, the shotgun was unceremoniously yanked from behind, leaving your hands and tumbling you to the floor. Fuck. You looked up to a dark-haired man standing over you, the gun barrel pointing between your eyes. He was clenching his teeth in anger.

“You fucking bitch…” he growled.

He must’ve been hiding out in another room and waited until your guard was down. You should’ve caught that. Clearly, you were a little rusty.

“You’re gonna pay for that you whore” he snarled at you as he squinted over at the other man.

He sighed. “I’m sorry Bobo…” he muttered as he shook his head at the crumpled figure.

“Please…I-”

“Shut up” he barked, crashing the gun against your forehead. “You got lucky with your husband’s gun, but it won’t happen again”.

“Lee…Where…where is he?” you asked, your voice hoarse with fear.

“He’s alive” the man muttered. “Unfortunately.”

You thought you might throw up with the relief that flooded you. He was okay. Probably roughed up but okay. All the more reason to keep going.

“Please sir…I’m pregn-” you began to plead but he held up his hand and signalled for you to stop.

“I know. I’m not blind, sweetheart” he sighed, almost a hint of regret in his tone. “This isn’t personal, all right? Your fatass husband got you into this mess. I’m sorry”.

“You don’t have to do this…” you said quietly.

“I do” he sighed again. “I need to show Sheriff Bodecker who is in charge here”.

“What…what are you going to do to me? To us…?” you rubbed your stomach.

“Just get downstairs” he snapped. “Do what I say, and I’ll go as easy as I can”.

You nodded, your mind going a million miles an hour. Could you run? Try grab the gun off him? Scream?

“I’m going to stand up, alright?” you offered coyly, raising your hands to show you weren’t a threat.

He nodded and you slowly got to your feet. The little fall fortunately hadn’t been too rough. You were okay. Baby was okay.

All this man knew about you was that you were Lee’s little wife. He thought you got lucky with ‘Bobo’ or whoever that was. Don’t give him any reason to doubt that. Back in the gang, you used a similar routine all the time, all doe-eyed and flustered. Men always underestimated you. They simply could not fathom that you were anything less than meek and scared.

“P-please sir…” you mumbled tearfully, shaking a little.

Underestimating your enemy was the worst mistake you could make. He would soon learn that lesson.

He gestured you to go down the stairs and you cautiously descended, moving slowly. He followed close behind, the shotgun looming between your shoulder blades. He was muttering and cursing, clearly improvising all of this after unexpectedly losing his employee.

He led you to the living room when he told you to stop. Keeping the gun pointed on you, he rested it on his shoulder briefly as he used his free hand to dig around in a knapsack on the floor that he must’ve stashed when they came in earlier. You saw rope and duct tape spill out from the opening. You stood there, trembling.

Or he thought you were trembling, at least.

He pulled out a polaroid camera.

“First…I need to take a few ‘before’ pictures for the good Sheriff…” he murmured. “Really tell the story, y’know”.

Fumbling with the camera meant he lost his hold on the gun for a second. Knowing you might not get another chance; you seized the opportunity.

It all happened in slow motion.

You leapt over towards him and grabbed the shotgun barrel with one hand, punching his head away with the other. He was stronger than you, but the shock had thrown him. He managed to yank the handle and the trigger and fired, but your grappling with the barrel meant the bullet fired into the ceiling. You screamed into his face as he tried to pump the gun and reload, but you continued to wrestle the barrel away. He grunted with surprise but quickly regained his composure as he went to his pocket, and you knew he must’ve had a handgun there, just like his friend did.

In the ensuing tussle the two of you fell to the ground. He was on top of you as he cursed at you and went purple with rage, but you screamed right back at him. He pulled the handgun from his pocket with his free hand, and you grabbed at his wrist, trying to push it away.

“I’m going to enjoy this, bitch” he hissed between a clenched jaw as he raised the gun.

You slammed your hand down as hard as you could into his windpipe and as he choked and spluttered you retrieved Lee’s knife from your brassiere. You pulled it from its sheath and plunged it deep into his neck, twisting it to ensure it took. With your free hand you smacked the gun from his grasp as he moved his fingers to the knife handle. His eyes went wide as he fell forward, and you used the opportunity to roll away from underneath him as he hit the living room carpet, then pulled the gun away and unloaded it. He watched you in disbelief as he bled, stunned at what had just unfolded. You’d seen that look on men before.

“Yeah. Not what you expected, huh?” you taunted.

Panting and rubbing your belly you wiped the sweat from your brow as you took a second to recover. Baby kicked back in silent reciprocation. You noticed the blood on your hands and ruined dress. Just then, the man began to groan. He slowly moved himself up to his knees and began to crawl slowly towards the door.

You were overcome with rage as you sat up and sped towards him. Before you knew it you had pulled the knife from his neck, causing him to collapse as the blood poured.

“Motherfucker…coming into MY HOME. Hurting MY BABY. MY HUSBAND…” you screamed, punctuating your words with vicious strikes into his back.

He groaned and wheezed and begged as you continued to stab him, your anger a red cloud whipping you into a frenzy you couldn’t control. All your pent-up rage about what they’d tried to do, how they’d threatened you and baby, and Lee. Nearly losing Lee. And every bit of anger you had held onto – the injustice of the world, the unfair start you’d had in it, everything you’d either lost or never had as your own in the first place. How hard it was to slip into the shoes of a normal person because you’d never truly had the opportunity to try. Honeybee wasn’t dead after all, she was right here, and she would never fully leave.

Finally, exhausted, you dropped the knife and slid onto your back, panting. You cringed at the sight of the living room, crimson and stained with death, worlds away from the classically curated yet cosy space it was just a few minutes before. You panted, and just laid there.

*

Lee pulled the cruiser into the driveway so fast he knocked the mailbox over, crumpling it beneath his front tyre. Neighbours peeked through the curtains in horror as the Sheriff jumped from his car and high-tailed it across his front yard, shouting his wife’s name. He kicked through the front door, his voice booming with both anger and panic.

“Lee?” you called out from the living room, snapped out of your haze.

“Honey…” he yelled as he soared towards you. His eyes bulged at the sight of Leroy’s back torn to ribbons.

You reached for him, and he grabbed you and pulled you close, holding you so tight it almost hurt. You gasped at his black eye and the bruises on his face as you traced them carefully with your finger.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” he repeated in your ear like a prayer as he kissed your temple and kissed your face and tenderly held you.

“Are you alright? Is baby alright?” he asked desperately.

“It’s okay baby, it’s okay. We’re okay” you cooed against his forehead as you kissed him back.

You told him it was okay, and that you’d taken care of it. You told him he needed to stop the shady shit and he promised he would, and he swore on the baby’s life between peppering desperate kisses all over your face.

He took a second to go and tell the peering neighbours it was okay, to stay outside and asked them to call the station as his wife had been the victim of a home invasion. Then he came back and pulled you away from Leroy and into the kitchen where he kissed you long and he kissed you hard, feeling every inch of your body as if he couldn’t believe you were here.

“I’ve missed you Lee” you finally said.

“I’ve missed you too, Honey” he sighed. “I know I’ve been distant…I guess I’m scared”.

“I’m scared too, Lee” you sniffed. “I know I haven’t exactly been present either…this is a lot for me too. But don’t shut me out, okay? We need to do this together”.

He nodded.

“I’m gonna be better…I promise”.

He held a tentative hand out to your stomach, moving it slowly towards you. You took it and gently placed it on your belly. He gasped as his fingers made contact with the swell.

“Our little baby…in there” he smiled.

You smiled back. “Sure is”.

As if on cue, the baby kicked back against his hand, causing Lee to chuckle in disbelief. His eyes brimmed with tears as your heart sang, this was what you wanted. Finally.

“Strong little thing…just like mama” he laughed.

You grinned back. “And daddy”.

His expression darkened. “I’m sorry…you had to do that. Like this. And alone. It must’ve brought back some tough memories…”

You sighed. “It’s okay. They were bad guys. They were going to hurt me and baby. They’d hurt you. I did what I had to do. I know I said I’d never do it again…but I had to”.

He nodded again, his fingers stroking at the blood soaked into your dress. “I’ll fix it for ya Honey. Alright? Home invasion. Pregnant woman. Leroy and Bobo were known to be involved in organised crime, they put a hit out on the Sheriff’s wife. It’s open and shut. Don’t worry about none of it. I’ll clean it up good and you shouldn’t even need to go to court”.

He pondered for a second. “Gonna be tricky to explain the multiple stab wounds in the back though...”

“Pregnancy hormones” you giggled.

Lee rolled his eyes and laughed with you. “I told them they’d die in this house…They just didn’t expect it would be because of you”.

“Yeah…that was unlucky for them” you snorted.

You both just stood there for a little while, both grateful to have the privilege of being together in this moment in time.

“I’m sorry Lee…another mess of mine for you to clean up…”

“Oh Hell, I like cleaning up your messes. Keeps me busy, outta trouble…” he smiled.

He tenderly held your chin between his fingers and looked into your eyes.

“I can’t believe I nearly lost you” he said gravely, shaking his head.

“Well, you didn’”t.

“I know…but I coulda”.

“Lee…” you said softly. “It’s gonna take more than two thugs with guns to get rid of me, you know that…You’re stuck with me.”

You smiled at your joke, trying to lighten the mood, but he just looked sullen.

“Sometimes I worry…that I’ve put a bird in a cage, here” he told you, his eyes wide and vulnerable. “Maybe you’re stuck with me”.

“No…no. You saved me, Lee” you whispered. “I’m not a prisoner here. I’m your wife”.

He smiled. And you smiled. And you knew it would all be okay, now. You both found your way back to each other once more. You weren’t a caged bird at all, you were free. Truly free for the first time in your life.

“I love you, Honeybee”.

“I love you too, Sheriff Bodecker”.

THE END

[sashaisready]

Haha they’d be proud!

absolutely i agree, I was thinking a lot about the different hats women potentially wear throughout their lives (lover, friend, wife, mother, caretaker etc) and how you’re meant to switch between them seamlessly depending on where you’re at. this is like an extreme version of that! So thank you for picking up on it!

I'm Still Here - Chapter Four

Lee Bodecker (The Devil All The Time) x Femme Reader

In late 60s Meade, you’re married to Sheriff Bodecker, pregnant with your first child. On paper you’re the perfect couple – the respectable Sheriff and his homemaker wife. This should be one of the happiest times of your life…so why are the two of you living like ghosts? And is it too late to bridge that gap? Especially when your husband is playing a dangerous game.

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Violence, guns, mentions of crime - robberies etc, mentions of traumatic childhood, injury. This is the penultimate chapter, next part is the last!

Wordcount: 3.1k

Back in the past…

“Looks like we have ourselves an old-fashioned standoff here, Honeybee”. He told you stoically as he kept his eyes on you. If he was at all anxious, he didn’t show it.

“Sure seems that way” you smiled back. 

The two of you remained still, pistols drawn and cautiously trained on each other. Both waiting to see what the other was going to do.

“Maybe you should put that down and come with me, Honey” Lee said softly.

His voice was smooth like molasses. Not like the other cops you knew. And you’d known many. You were intrigued by him, most of the rookies you got your hands on either trembled like schoolboys or went in too aggressively as if trying to overcompensate. Lee…he just seemed…interested? Amused?

Maybe you were interested, too.

You shook your head. “Sorry Lee, you know I can’t do that” you sighed. 

“I know Honey…but the boys are outside with your friends right now, roundin’ them up…and it’ll be better for you to come quiet. Don’t you think?”

You grinned. “I never come quiet, Deputy Bodecker”.

He just snickered at your double entendre. “You’re a piece of work, aren’t ya?”

You shrugged at him teasingly. 

“I meant it” he continued. “If you come willingly, it’ll look better for you. The judge might go easy on ya. You could tell him you were coerced…vulnerable…just a girl who got caught up in the wrong crowd and didn’t know what she was doin’. It happens all the time”.

A hollow laugh escaped you. “Nice try, Lee. But do you really think the judge and jury are gonna buy that the girl firing at cop cars during high-speed chases is vulnerable and clueless?”

“Mm. Worth a shot” he snickered again and narrowed his eyes.

“They’ll be okay, my gang. They always are. They’re slippery”.

“Oh, I don’t doubt that…but they only need to slip up once. Hubris is dangerous, Honey.”

“Don’t worry about me, Lee”.

“Well, I am worried. You strike me as the kind of girl who didn’t have no one worryin’ ‘bout her for a long time” he told you.

Your breath hitched. You knew this was a common cop tactic, them trying to empathise with you and lure you in with empty platitudes about how well they ‘know’ you…but his insight caught you off guard for a second just the same. You shook it off.

“I have Billy. And the gang. I do just fine” you replied curtly.

Lee nodded, studying you carefully. He kept the gun trained on you as his eyes bore into yours. “Mmm…if you say so, Honey. But I’ve met a lot of Billys in my time, and we both know he wouldn’t hesitate to sell you down the river if it meant saving his own ass. So maybe you should get the jump on him”.

That stung. You loved Billy, and he loved you too. This cop didn’t know you. Either of you. He knew nothing about you or what Billy would do for you. What you’d do for each other! He was just another pig.

Your face became an ugly scowl.

Lee watched, realising he’d pushed you too far. He felt a twinge of regret, not just at losing the opportunity to take a member of the infamous Cypress gang into the station, but strangely, he also didn’t like that he’d upset you.

“I told you, Bodecker, I do just fine” you told him angrily.

Before he had a chance to respond you fired the pistol, sending a warning shot into the wooden doorframe just above his head. He flinched and recoiled at the sound, and you took that moment of confusion to speed out of the front door.

Lee regained his composure and yelled after you, breaking into a run and pursuing you. He sprinted with his gun in hand just in time to see that damned VW bus belt it out of the property, with you sliding agilely inside through one of the windows.

The Cypress gang were loose once again.

Lee stood helplessly as Finlay and the squad approached behind him, some muttering obscenities and radio-ing back to the station. A couple of cruisers catapulted out of the driveway to follow the bus, but they all knew they were licked. Finlay clamped a paternal hand onto Lee’s back, assuring him that he’d get them next time.

Lee just nodded, staring thoughtfully out to the road.

That was the first time you met.

*

You met lots of times after that day.

Sometimes during busts. Sometimes on the road. Once even during a bank robbery. You and the gang always manage to evade them in the end, but there had been some close calls.

You and Lee always exchanged little looks or nods when you found yourself together again. Small waves. Eventually pleasantries. One time Lee surprised you in a barn you were laying low in after a particularly tiresome chase. He pinned you down against the dirt and the hay and you gasped a little at the feeling of his weight on you as he held you down and told you to be a good girl. You did your best to ignore the surge of electricity it sent through you. He even got one of the cuffs on you before you headbutted him and managed to speed away. Later, Cosmo had to cut them off using a saw and a file he’d stolen from a carpenter. Not your finest hour.

It was always nice to see him. You would feel a weird tingle in your stomach when he appeared. You’d find yourself searching the faces of cops during any showdowns and you’d feel a strange relief when you found him. You knew these feelings couldn’t mean anything good. You knew you had to move beyond it. But you couldn’t help yourself. As time rolled on you saw Lee grow from a rookie to eventually becoming Finlay’s right-hand man. He held himself more confidently, moving with more authority than before. His middle had softened, and his cheeks filled out as he rose through the ranks, but that was okay. He was still handsome, and there was something about his sturdiness that you liked.

You once had a blazing argument with Billy about him putting his own needs above the gang’s…it seemed to be happening more and more…and you’d stormed off to the gas station across from the sleazy motel you were staying in, eyes brimming with tears and jaw clenching in anger. You thought about how tiring this way of life was, how weary you were becoming.

You’d grown up with nothing, drifting between orphanages and group homes without so much as a doll of your own. You’d grown hard and distrustful, careful not to let anyway get too close lest they leave you again. You became tough, taking no shit from the other kids and establishing yourself as a figure not to be messed with. You stole from grocery stores to subsidise the measly food portions you were given, and that graduated to stealing more – a comb from the pharmacy, a make-up compact, a radio from the electronics store…and, eventually, cars. You found it all quite easy. You just had to push down any guilt you felt and remind yourself that you were the only person you could rely on.

You’d met Billy after you tried to pick his pocket on the street. Rather than turn you in, he pointed out where you’d gone wrong. You had thought he was beautiful with his blonde hair and intense eyes. He’d taken you under his wing and you followed him gladly. Of course you fell in love with him, how could you not? It was as if someone was seeing you for the first time, someone who saw the ugliness within you but didn’t flinch – if anything he welcomed it. He taught you everything he knew and introduced you to the others, and thus the gang was born. You had a warm bed every night, even if you moved around a lot, plus your belly was always full and you always had money in your pocket. Never before had these things been your reality. Yes, some of the stuff you got up to made you queasy, you remember the first time you’d shot a man and the sickening thwump of the bullet as it pierced his skin, but he was coming straight for you and it was you or him. And that’s what you told yourself. It was them or you. And you had to survive.

Billy had saved you and it was your job to save him too. So you looked out for him, had his back. You learnt to shoot and you got good at it, too. As long as you had each other you would be okay.

But after that argument, as you marched into the gas station with your heart pounding, you wondered if you were cut out for this life. Sometimes you questioned if you should just turn yourself in and give it all up. Hope for a sympathetic judge like Lee said. Jail would be tough but at least you wouldn’t have to keep running.

But it was too late. You’d gone too far now.

As you paid for a soda you caught a glimpse of yourself on the Wanted poster displayed behind the register. Billy’s was next to yours, then the others along from his. Fortunately, your hair looked a little different now and the picture quality wasn’t great. Still, you could never be too careful. You pulled your hat down and disappeared back out into the night. A ghost, like always.

*

Lee was dealing with his own confusing feelings. You were a felon, the opposite of everything his job stood for. It was his job to catch people like you and put them away, to protect the world from your kind. So why couldn’t he stop thinking about you? He so enjoyed the cat and mouse game with you, the excitement of catching you off guard and seeing the mischief across your face. As much as he wanted to capture you, he knew he would be slightly disappointed when that day came because it would be over. Strangely, he knew he’d miss you. Plus, the chase had ignited something in him, something primal and predatory. That day in the barn when he caught you, trapping you between his thighs as he watched the ‘o’ of surprise on your face as you realised, he’d bested you. He watched the glimmer of excitement in your eyes when he told you to be good. He felt the warmth of your body beneath him and imagined what it would be like to feel you properly. His rational mind screamed at him to stay away but he couldn’t help himself. Like a moth to a flame, you brought him back every time.

Of course, everything must end.

*

The shoot-out at Manville’s Farm had been bad. Really bad.

The cops had cornered you there after a robbery went wrong, it wasn’t a good spot to hide out, but it was the only option. Cosmo had been killed in the chaos and Violet had been captured. There was nothing you could’ve done to help them.

You and Billy were cornered in a woodshed, and you were bleeding from a bullet wound in your leg which you’d poorly dressed with a handkerchief. Billy was clutching onto the suitcase of cash he’d salvaged and was staring at it as if it held the answer to all your prayers. Things had been tough between you for a while now. You knew he was pulling away from you.

“Billy…” you uttered meekly.

“Shut UP, Honeybee” he barked. “I’m trying to think…”

He didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence as you both heard the heavy steps outside drawing closer. You exchanged a look, and you knew this was it. At least you’d go down together.

You turned to reach for his hand but to your horror he leapt to his feet and began to climb to the little window at the back of the shed.

“Billy!” you squeaked, unable to grasp the betrayal as he shimmied himself through the gap.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry…Really, I am…” he shot you a glance of regret and then he was gone.

You gawped at the window in horror, your heart in so much pain you thought it would burst. A few moments later you heard a wail of pain somewhere in the distance followed by a series of curses, but you didn’t have time to really react before the door swung open. You already knew who it would be.

“Hi Lee” you said glumly.

He stood in the doorway with his hands on his hips, eyeing you carefully. At the very least, you were glad it was him who would be taking you away. He looked handsome, as always. His hair was shorter. His middle a little wider. But he was still Lee.

“That must smart” he said quietly as he looked to the wound on your leg. “Guess that’s why you ain’t runnin’ no more”.

You nodded.

“But I’m guessing Lover Boy abandoning you hurt even more”.

Your eyes filled with tears, and you nodded again.

He sighed, dropping to his knees and tenderly moving some hair from your face. He moved to reveal Billy’s suitcase of cash behind him, giving it a tap.

“If it helps…we got him”.

You scoffed. He betrayed you, and for what? To suffer the same fate anyway? What a waste. All of it had been a waste.

“He got caught in a bear trap Old Man Manville had put out to catch the stray dogs who go after his livestock. He’ll live, just in a lot of pain. The boys are with him now waitin’ on a medic. They’re all so excited to have caught Billy the Kid that the heat’s off you for now, Honey”.

“Idiot” you scoffed. Although the fact he suffered was a small comfort to you.

“So…it’s finally time huh?” he said kindly, his voice softening.

“I guess so” you said tearfully. “I’m sorry, Lee”.

“It’s okay, Honey” he cooed. “You’re okay”.

“I just…I don’t want to do it anymore. You know? I’m so tired…”

He nodded. “Well…you don’t have to, not anymore”.

“Can I tell you something, Lee?” you whispered.

“Anything, Honeybee”.

“It’s silly but…I sometimes dream about having a normal life. You know? Just being somebody’s wife…somebody’s mother. Keeping a home. Living simple. Is that dumb?”

He shook his head. “Not at all, Honey. I think that’s what most of us want”.

You both sat in the silence for a little while before he sighed.

“You know…I been offered a job over in Knockemstiff, Meade. Few hundred miles from here. They want me to be their Sheriff” he told you.

You furrowed your brow, unsure what this had to do with you. “Uh…okay”.

He took your hand, gingerly.

“Honeybee…come with me”.

You scoffed in disbelief. “What??”

“You heard me. Come with me. Marry me. Start that normal life you’ve always wanted…”

You laughed out loud. This had to be some weird joke. But you looked into his deep blue eyes, and he wasn’t laughing. He stood once more, his hands on his belt buckle as he watched you with utter sincerity.

“I can take care of things here” he said gravely. “You can start over. Both of us can. Nobody will ever know. We’ll be far enough away from anyone who might recognise you”.

You blinked at him. “You’re…serious?”

“I’ll take care of you, Honey. I know we don’t know each other well, yet, but we can. I think…I know…we can be happy”.

“I don’t…what? We…We can’t”.

“You know we can. You feel our connection. I feel it too”.

He must be insane. But clearly you were just as insane as him because you found yourself actually considering it.

“If I did…if we did this…they’d find me…”

“They wouldn’t. I’d make sure of it.”

You shook your head in disbelief.

“Even if we could…I’ve done bad shit, Lee. Real bad. Don’t you want a nice little wife who knows how to make a good casserole? Not some crazy bitch who knows how to hot wire a car”.

He laughed. “No. I want the crazy bitch”.

You scoffed again. “And even if I agree…how do you know I won’t just run out on you?”

“You won’t” he said confidently.

“I…I’m not a good person, Lee”.

And then he leaned over and kissed you. And you kissed him back. And the world was still for a moment. Your leg didn’t hurt and your heart wasn’t broken and you felt alive and right. He held your face as his tongue found yours and his big hands clung to your waist and everything sang, and everything lit up and something within you awoke in a way it never had with Billy. You found yourself clinging to Lee and never wanting to let go. There was something safe, just something right about it all.

Maybe it was because you were crazy. Maybe it was because it was the only option other than jail. Maybe because your heart ached from Billy’s betrayal. Maybe it was because you and Lee kept finding your way back to each other. And maybe it would just be nice for someone else to take care of you for once.

As you pulled away, you held his face in your hands and told him your real name.

And you said yes.

*

And so the story goes that the notorious Honeybee of the Cypress gang died that day. She hid in a woodshed on the Manville property which unfortunately exploded when she lit a match for a cigarette without spotting the leaking gas can just a few feet away. They didn’t find much of her, just her jacket and her shoes and not much else. A tragic end to the troubled runaway, who got caught up in the wrong crowd after her difficult childhood. So much promise, snuffed out in an instant. She would later become a cautionary tale told to wayward girls threatening to go off the rails – don’t end up like the poor, tragic Honeybee!

Sheriff Lee Bodecker moved to Meade shortly after his success with the Cypress bust and subsequent investigation of Honeybee’s death. He married a pretty, young woman he met at a diner, and the two became pillars of the community. A few years later they were reportedly expecting their first child, and happier than ever.

*

Present Day…

You heard the men coming up the stairs and you knew it was time.

Here’s hoping you remembered some of your old tricks…

*

I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! I had great fun with it. As always I'm grateful for any reblogs or comments ❤️

[sashaisready]

Not her first time!

definitely. This is the life she wants (most of it anyway) but it’s stuck hard to transition when she’s never known anything like it before.

I'm Still Here - Chapter Three

Lee Bodecker (The Devil All The Time) x Femme Reader

In late 60s Meade, you’re married to Sheriff Bodecker, pregnant with your first child. On paper you’re the perfect couple – the respectable Sheriff and his homemaker wife. This should be one of the happiest times of your life…so why are the two of you living like ghosts? And is it too late to bridge that gap? Especially when your husband is playing a dangerous game.

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Violence, suggestions of potential violence towards pregnant character, guns, general bad guy stuff. Please forgive any technical errors in my knowledge of 60s police/guns!!!

Wordcount: 1.5k

Sorry...this was initially going to be one part but it grew into something larger than expected! So there will be a follow up to this chapter...and there should be one more after that. Thank you for reading! As always reblogs and comments are so appreciated ❤️

You found yourself back at the sink again. Not even doing any dishes. Just…standing. You rubbed your stomach as baby kicked and you gazed out into the world. Not much going on. This was always a quiet time of day as most of the wives on your street went over to Mrs. Brennan’s place to play Bridge. They sometimes half-halfheartedly asked you to join, and you would smile and say you’d think about it - even though you all knew you wouldn’t. Still, you did the dance.

With the wives out at Bridge and the husbands mostly at work or off out doing their business, it was always a nice break from the curtain twitchers and nosy drop-bys.

Your mind wandered to Lee, and you thought about what sketchy shit he could be up to at this time of day. You knew he wasn’t really at the farm. Did he really think you didn’t know? That you didn’t see those extra bills in his wallet? Didn’t hear his hushed voice on the late night calls? Hadn’t noticed the extra pistol he’d stashed at the back of the closet? Honestly, Lee. This was you.

You pondered on Lee for a moment before the speeding truck pulled you from your thoughts. You watched curiously through the window as it barrelled down the street. 

Huh. That was unusual. You didn’t get much traffic in Brewer Heights. And certainly not like that.

It sped by the houses, screeching slightly as the driver slammed the brakes. You raised a brow as it came to a stop..right outside your house. 

You immediately went rigid, something long dormant inside you now suddenly wide awake. Danger. Danger. Run. Your could hear your heartbeat in your ears.

But why…? This could just be a maintenance worker or someone who took a wrong turn. Why did you think-

You watched as two men left the vehicle, one burly, the other shorter but radiating authority. Both carried themselves with an air of men not weighed down by petty things like legality or morality.

And they were heading straight towards the house. 

You knew immediately this was to do with Lee. You just knew. God only knows what shit he’d got himself tied up with. But the fact they were here now suggested something had gone horribly wrong. You briefly considered calling the station, but there wasn’t time. Your stomach swam with dread as you thought about where Lee might be...what condition he could be in...

...But you couldn’t think about that right now.

You had to protect yourself and baby.

You saw the men begin to stroll up the driveway and you broke into a sprint straight up the stairs. Adrenaline soared through your veins. You flung yourself into the spare bedroom and grabbed Lee’s shotgun. Then you clumsily keyed in the code to his gun safe and snatched the bullets he kept in there. You grabbed his knife in its sheath for good measure and stashed it in your brassiere. 

They were banging on the front door now, but you knew they’d let themselves in soon. It wasn’t locked. You didn’t have long. 

“Mrs Bodecker…you home?” Someone yelled through the door downstairs. 

You loaded a bullet into the shotgun chamber and pushed the loading flap up. You repeated this until you had a full magazine and pumped the gun to ensure it was ready. 

You took a deep breath and quietly moved behind the door, raising the weapon and tightening your finger over the trigger. Pointing the barrel towards the hallway, you waited. 

You never thought you’d be back here again. But then life always works in strange ways. Thank god for muscle memory, at least.

You waited. 

You rubbed baby.

And you thought of Lee.

*

SEVERAL YEARS EARLIER...

Deputy Lee Bodecker studied the Wanted poster carefully, leaning in closely to look at the face of the young woman in the grainy photograph.

“A cutie, huh?” Sheriff Finlay laughed as he approached Lee’s desk. “Hard to believe she’s got several felonies under her belt”.

“Sheriff, sir” Lee nodded as he sat up straight. The sounds of the busy police station echoed around them.

Sheriff Finlay grinned. “At ease, rookie. I don’t bite. Now, did the boys fill you in on the details of today’s operation?”

“Yes, Sheriff. We have promising intel on the notorious Cypress gang, lead by Bill Glover - alias Billy The Kid” Lee explained. “They’ve committed numerous crimes across the state…and beyond. Robbery. Arson. Grand larceny. Assault and battery…Uh…murder”.

The Sheriff smiled. “That’s right. The feds are all over them too. But if we’re the ones to take them in, that looks great for us. Good press. Commendations. Maybe some extra funding if we play our cards right”.

Lee nodded. He knew what a big deal this would be. He hadn’t been on the force very long, and this was the perfect way to make his mark and show he was more than just the rookie. This could firmly place him on the path to becoming Sheriff one day.

Finlay tapped his finger back down on the Wanted poster.

“And this one…well, we don’t know her real name. But she goes by Honeybee. We think she might be a runaway, but we don’t have much on her. Don’t let her youth fool you, Bodecker, she’s a mean shot. And a meaner mouth. Some of our guys have underestimated her before. So keep your wits about you, alright?”

“Yes Sheriff. I won’t let you down, sir”.

“Good to hear, rookie” Finlay patted him on the shoulder and headed to his office. “See you out there”.

Lee nodded and looked back down at the image. Honeybee.

Well...he would be careful. 

But she certainly was pretty.

*

Your body dangled precariously out of one of the Volkswagen bus windows, firing at the cop car that was hot on your tail. 

“Eat that, fuckers!” You shrieked as you blew out one of their tyres. The others hooted and cheered behind you. 

You watched the police car jerk and swerve violently across the highway before finally veering off entirely. Its siren fading as it soon began to shrink into the horizon.

You sighed and pulled yourself back inside, reloading the pistol and placing it back in your holster.

“Great work as always, Honeybee” laughed Billy, his voice proud.

You gave a mock bow and the two of you shared a smile in the rear view mirror. His long blonde curls blew in the breeze from his open window, emerald eyes locking onto you. 

“Anytime, baby” you replied. “I love you”.

Billy beamed back at you. “I love you too, Honeybee”.

Cosmo jeered and Violet scoffed but you ignored them like always. All that mattered was you and Billy. You’d do anything to make him happy. 

*

“FUCK!” Sheriff Finlay yelled as the squad gathered round. 

“That’s Cooper and Palmer with a blow out twenty miles back. Plus Stevens is in the back of an ambulance after the bastards left barbed wire out on the tarmac”. He shook his head and wiped his damp brow with a handkerchief.

Lee inhaled. He’d never quite been on the job like this before. It wasn’t like the traffic stops and bar brawls he’d cut his teeth on. He moved closer and tried to suppress his nerves. 

Palmer gestured to the large farmhouse they all stood in front of. A rusty VW bus was haphazardly parked across the overgrown yard. 

We think they’re holed up in here” Finlay explained. “We’ll split in two - group A - take the upstairs, B the downstairs. Keep your weapons drawn and your backs covered”.

Minutes later and Lee was guarding the rear of group B, with Sheriff Finlay leading the charge. The house was long abandoned, but there were signs of life - a few crumpled blankets, food packets and beer bottles strewn over the floors. Someone had definitely been sleeping here recently. 

They were creeping through the dusty dining room at the back of the house, a man covering in each direction, when a flash of something flew past the doorway, immediately followed by the sound of feet crashing on wood.

“Go, go, go!” Bellowed Finlay as the men surged forward, guns raised. He motioned for them to go and turned to Lee.

“Bodecker! We’ll take this. Get back to the cruiser and call for back up”.

“Yes Sheriff” Lee said quickly as he rushed back through the house. He could hear Finlay shouting as the others chased the gang out into the yard.

He was vibrating with adrenaline as he sprinted back towards the front door, he got to the hallway just as-

“Not so fast, deputy”.

He froze, but his hand tightened around his pistol. He turned to find you pointing a gun right back at him, a smirk creeping across your face.

You were even prettier in person.

“Honeybee” he said quietly.

Your smirk morphed into a full blown smile. “Oh, so you’ve done your homework, huh newbie?”

He nodded. “As much as I can, anyhow.” His lips curled a little at the edges. If he was scared, he hid it well.

Your smile widened. You didn’t recognise this one, and by now you knew all of Finlay’s boys. You found yourself strangely drawn to his expressive blue eyes, though. His big, broad shoulders. That little smirk on his face. There was…something about him.

“And you are?”

“Bodecker”.

“Got a first name, Deputy Bodecker?”

“Lee”.

You grinned at him, your finger hovering near the trigger. “Deputy Lee Bodecker, I'm pleased to make your acquaintance”.

“Likewise ma’am”. He nodded.

Sorry…I had to split this chapter into two as it was longer than planned! But I’m very excited to reveal more about how they got married and Honeybee’s life changed ☺️ And what goes down at the house of course! Will let get to her in time?