#biker!au

[world-of-aus]

Business as Usual

Pairing: Baker!Reader x Biker!Bucky

Warnings: A pinch of angst..

A/n: I’m in a biker!bucky funk and I am absolutely here for it. I am writing pieces that have me in a chokehold and that I know I will see through to the end. I hope you enjoy this first part to a two part piece!

The bakery was a quiet hum as your regulars moved throughout your store looking into the glass cases and wooden shelves for their favorite treats. You took notice of their hurried movements as their eyes went from the delectable treats you had made midmorning, to the grandfather clock that rested just at the back of your store. It was a monthly occurrence; your regulars rushing in to grab the baked goods before they came.

The 107.

You had only heard of them in passing before you had made the decision to open a second shop here in the heart of Brooklyn. Now they were all you heard of; their names whispered throughout your shop as the locals grabbed their baked goods from you. You had been warned of them plenty before you had signed your name on the dotted line to take owner ship of this place. Many advising against the purchase saying you’d be paying more than you’d be making.

How wrong they had been.

While yes, the price to have a shop on their street was a pretty one, most of the money you willingly gave over to them in a manila folder at the beginning of the month always found its way back to you.  You see the men of the 107 appreciated the service you provided to their people, enjoyed the welcoming environment you provided to those that stopped in for a visit. This is partially the reason why on the first of the month you now find yourself closing shop early to invite the bikers in.

The first of your regulars finds you at the register, a warm smile on her lips as she passes you the white paper bag. “Is this all,” you question as you place the bagged sweets on the scale. “Oh yes,” she chirps, “don’t want to grab to many sweets or I won’t have reason to come in later this week!” That brings a smile to your lips as you state her the price, accepting her card as you pass her the bag. “Well, you know I always look forward to our meetings I'll be waiting to see you later this week, hopefully with a new recipe for you to try,” you say as you pass her her receipt and card promising to see her soon as the next one in line takes her spot.

It’s like that till your bidding the last of your usual’s a farewell as you pass them their bag of treats with the same promise to see them later in the week. After the last toll is heard through your shop you're moving from behind the register to the front of the shop where you flip the sign from ‘open’ to ‘closed’. You then twist the locks knowing that your visitors will be letting themselves in with their own copy of your shops key.  

You move back past the register pushing open the kitchens door as you make your way to the counter to fetch your new recipe that waits for you plated. As you reach for the plated desserts the gong of your grandfather clock can be heard through the shop, it was time. Picking up the plate you move over to the swinging door, kicking it open as you pushed through. Resting the plate next to the register you reached down to the shelves below to grab the manila folder that had been waiting weeks to be picked up.

At the same time that you push to full height you can see their frames fill your doorway, their boisterous laughter sounding through the locked door as they use their copy to let themselves in. The noise fills your shop almost instantly as they give you their warmest welcomes, a warm smile finding your lips as you give them your own welcomed greeting, your eyes locking with his as he leads his group in.

Steve and Sam are the last ones in, Steve’s fingers going for the locks as they all crowd you at the register. His frame is always closest to you; guarding, grounding, it’s an odd comparison to the man you met at your first encounter with one another.

“Is the lock really necessary,” you question to stop yourself from putting your full focus on him, there would be time for that soon enough. “I’ve got nothing to keep from any of you, heck I send you out of here every month with more than what you came for,” you add with a soft laugh. Steve is coming up the center Sam in tow as they flank Bucky, “Sorry y/n, bosses orders, you know we can never be too cautious” Steve answers easily with a smile. “Of course,” you confirm, with an easy smile of your own “so business as usual?”

This time you will your eyes to meet his, the ocean greys capturing you almost instantly, a nod to his head, a smirk kissing the corner of his mouth. It’s like clockwork, your hands grabbing the envelope to pass it to him, fingers brushing for a brief second before he’s passing the manila folder over to Steve. The plate goes next the treats you baked up earlier before their arrival being passed down but not before he grabs one for himself.

“New recipe,” he questions as he looks over the baked dessert.

Your smile pulls a little higher, “been wanting to add this recipe to my shelves for awhile now,” you say as you watch the rest of the 107 fill your bakeries tables, “couldn’t quite get it right though, but I think I may have finally perfected it.”

Moritas throaty groan fills the air then,  his palm smacking the table top he’s sat at with the others, Bucky throws him a glare but the man can’t be bothered as he praises the dessert through a mouth half full. You can’t help but to laugh offering him and the others in the room their choice of beverage from the coolers off to the side, “there’s freshly brewed coffee as well,” you throw in.

“Y/n,” Bucky warns but it falls on deaf ears as you wave him off beckoning him over to the office, “it’ll be quieter in there,” you add as you move away from the register and to your half-opened office door. You can hear Bucky send out a warning to his men, one that’s met with a quiet huff as the men indulge in the sweet drinks and an even sweeter pastry. You round your desk taking a seat on the soft cushion as you wait for the broad, short-haired brunette to enter your office; he doesn’t have you wait long.

You watch as he fills your doorway before the office door is being swung shut behind him, his large frame occupying the soft leathered cushioned chair before you. He relaxes into the seat, a warm smile kissing his pink lips as he takes you in, “how’ve you been sweetheart, any trouble?”

A warmth blooms in your chest, a sweetness for the man before you settling over your features as you adjust yourself in your chair, “The only trouble is you locking that door on your visits, you know how many customers come in after your visit just to make sure I’m still breathing?”

That draws a hearty laugh from the man before you, “you sure they’re not wandering in for the new pastries you set out after every visit?”

Your smile draws wider soft laughter bubbling past your lips, “can’t just put anything on those shelves you know, need to make sure they’re 107 approved – are they,” you question looking down at the untouched dessert still held in his hand.

You try to hold his gaze as he brings your newly baked recipe up to his lips, not letting your eyes drop down to his lips. He must know by now the effect he has on you as his eyes slip shut, lips closing on a hum as he lets the good settle on his tongue.  

“So,” you question choked, “how is it – good?”

His eyes slip open, lips upturning on a smirk, “107 approved,” he hums, “just like the baker who baked them.”

Heat floods your cheeks as you smile softly at the man before you, “you think the regulars will like them?”

His chuckle resonates through the small office as he finishes off the small pastry, “if these don’t sell out the first day I'll have Steve drop by to buy them all off of you, I’m sure Morita will work through these within an hour all on his own.”

“Or I could save you the trouble of driving in and just go drop off what doesn’t sell that day, I'd rather it go in someone’s belly then the trashbin out back.”

You can’t quite read the look that crosses over his features and for a moment you wonder if you might have overstepped. “You’re not worried?”

Your brows furrow, “now what would I be worried about Barnes,” you question with a tilt of your head.

“You know what comes with the likes of knowing us, being seen around us, you ain’t worried about that, worried about your name, the shops name being spread around in bad light?” You can’t stop the soft chuckle that leaves your lips, head shaking as you lean it back against the soft cushion of your office chair. “Barnes I have about 8 bikes lined up outside of my shop right now, and its not just any bikes it’s the 107, and they’re out there every first of the month just like they are now –  wouldn’t you say I’m past being worried about being seen with you, knowing you?”

There’s another unknowing look that crosses his features and this time you know you’ve overstepped when he begins to speak. “Our bikes lined out there every first of the month speaks volumes to the reputation we’ve built, we’ve instilled fear into our people, it’s know that as long as they don’t cross us they’re taken care of but we catch them slipping and that’s the end for them – you don’t want to be known for knowing us, it’s not good for you.”

Rejection settles over you and like a dog with its tail tucked between your legs you’re pulling a smile forcing out a laugh as you shake your head in agreement. “You’re right,” you say, “y/n,” he tries but you don’t hear it as you push off your chair needing to be out of this office.

“No, you’re right, this is just business, that’s what it’s always been and I guess for a moment I forgot.”

“Y/n,” he tries again as he pushes off his chair wanting to stop you, “shall we go and see if the amount is correct, surely Steve and Sam counted through it already,” you say as you side step him to get the door pulled open.

You’re stepping out into the bakery all eyes on you as you pull a smile for them, “so is it all there,” you question as you step closer to them, Bucky trailing like a looming shadow behind you.

Sam and Steve pull a smile but you can see there questioning gaze behind the kind eyes they give you. “Of course it is sweetheart, you’ve never been wrong with us.”

“Well let’s hope I never am,” you laugh though it sounds forced, “say how was the dessert, is it 107 approved, I’d really like to get them out on my shelves but I need the stamp of approval.”

That seems to ease the growing tension, the room now a light buzz as the men in their earned leather all praise your baked good. “That’s wonderful,” you smile this one not forced, “say Morita would it be okay if sent whatever is left over of the baked goods with your ma, I really wouldn’t want them to go to waste, maybe you can take them to the club with you.”

“You can send whatever you want with ma,” Morita grins, “just set her up with a bill will ya, I'll get it for her at the beginning of the month.”

You’re shaking your head, “it’s on the house, no really,” you add when he gives you a look, “I’d rather it go with your ma knowing it’ll reach you all then to have to chuck them in the trashbin out back.”

Morita lets out air, “are you sure – won't this set you back?”

“You know this isn’t my only shop right? I’d really rather send it with you all, no charge, unless y’all are feeling nice enough to knock a few bucks off for next month,” you add with a grin.

There laughter meets your ear, “we shouldn’t be charging you at all with all that you do for us, and our people,” Bucky speaks up, and you make yourself keep the smile on your lips as you turn to look at him over your shoulder. “It’s business,” you find yourself saying, “you’ve got an image to up keep and people to take care of, I can respect that.”

Bucky wants to say more, to apologize for how his words sounded in the office, but you won’t hear it as you clap your hands together softly, “well If all the money is there, and you’ve enjoyed the sweets and refreshments I really shouldn’t keep you all any longer, surely you all have more important business to get too.”

The group can tell something is off with you, but they don’t push as they all offer to help you clean the mess, “nonsense,” you wave them off, “y’all go ahead, besides cleaning up shop and shelving the new desserts is my way to unwind after a long day.”

“Y/n,” Bucky tries, and you’re looking at him again tired smile on your lips, “it’s alright Barnes, y’all go ahead, I'll see you at the first of the month.”

The brunette doesn’t want to push you any further, hurt your more than he knows he’s hurt you with his words in your office so he sends his men off, his body straggling by your side as you see them all to the door. He turns to you, wanting to offer you something, anything, hell he would take you to the clubhouse right now if it meant he could put a genuine smile on your face.

“Buck, it's okay,” you offer with a hand to his arm, a smile to your lips, “go, I'll see you soon.” You’re turning to go back into the shop before he can get anything else out. The lock sliding into place meeting his ear; it's time to go. He turns to his group, Steve and Sam’s gaze already waiting, “what did you do man?” Bucky shakes his head as he goes to his bike, mounting it; “call Nat and Wanda, I want them to come check on her.”

“Buck what did you -”

“That’s an order Rogers.”

“Bucky was never really known for having a way with words.”

You scoff over the cup of hot chocolate in front of you, “please him never having a way with words, have you seen the women that throw themselves at him and the 107, their clubhouse is packed with them.”

“What Nat means is that he doesn’t really know how to express his concerns around those he loves,” Wanda reiterates with a hand over yours.

You shake your head, finger running along the rim of your mug, “I don’t know Wands maybe I was reading too much into all of this, maybe it has always just been business as regular and I let my feelings cloud my judgement of their visits.”

“If it were just business as usual you really think he would have Steve call me and Wanda to come check on you,” Natasha questions, “he cares about you y/n, and he’s just worried about you getting caught up in his life.”

“It’s not an easy one,” Wanda adds, “there’s always going to be a target on your back, and it's not only the club he’s going to have to worry about then, you’ll also become his focus.”

“And it seems you already are,” Natasha agrees.

The rejection from earlier rears its ugly head as you grab your mug from the register, it was only getting later in the evening and if you were planning on having an early start you’d need to head home soon. “I don’t know girls, while I appreciate him asking the two of you to stop by, he probably only did so to make sure we were okay since I didn’t really give him a chance earlier.”

“Y/n,” Natasha sighs, but you offer her a tired smile, “I’m fine girls really, you can let Buck and the boys know there was no harm done, and it’s like I told them earlier I’m going to see them at the first of the month like I always have, that’s not going to change, business as usual,” you throw in bitterly.

“Y/n,” Wanda repeats with a raised brow, you shake your head, “please drop it, its late and I have an early start tomorrow if I want to get my new recipe plated so I'd really like to get home soon, just tell Bucky that I'm fine, I'll be fine.”

The girls know not to push you, both of them squeezing you tight as you see them out, the door locking behind them as the two make their way down the empty walkway. They round the stop sign at the end of the street, there forms closing in on the three waiting men.

“How was she,” Bucky questions as the two close in on them, Natasha shakes her head, Bucky sighs all but ready to go over there himself but the redhead is stopping him with a hand to his arm. “It’s late, she’s tired, there’s no point in going over there now, she’s as understanding as her stubbornness will allow her to be.”

“Give her a day,” Wanda adds as she slides on behind Sam, “then get your shit together,” Sam mutters as he kicks up his stand. “She’s not as weak as you think she is,” Natasha murmurs as she slips on behind Steve, “if you’re worried about her not being able to handle her own, you're worrying about the wrong thing.”

#Bucky x reader #Bucky x you #Bucky barnes x reader #biker!bucky #biker!AU #biker!bucky x reader #biker!bucky Barnes #Bucky barnes x you #Bucky barnes fanfic #Bucky barnes fanfiction

[sarahsmi13s]

|| Bikes and Broncos ||

biker!jake x cowgirl!reader

"what do you see in him?" "everything you don't"

Adam Seresin and Kenneth Erikson, two men that live very different lives... Two men that never got along. But what happens when their children meet and fall in love with one another? Jake Seresin and Y/N Erikson meet at a rodeo where the biker makes an ass out of himself. But when they meet again Jake gets the chance to show Y/N who he really is. But how will her father feel? Can Kenneth look past what he thought he knew and learn that things were never as they seemed?

#vinny's moodboard multiverse #vinny creates #week one #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #biker!au #hangman au #biker!jake #cowgirl!reader #bikes and broncos #glenjamin powell #glen powell #sarahsmi13s

[metalbuckaroo]

Note// I’m a little more prepared for kinkmas than I was kinktober, though, I’m not going to put all days bc as of rn I have no clue what is going to be posted on what day. All fics will have their own warnings, all will be filth

18+ PLUS ONLY, MINORS DNI

-> Day One: Corruption - Neighbor!Bucky

-> Day Two: Spit Kink - Rockstar!Bucky

-> Day Three: Sex Tape - Stripper!Bucky

-> Day Four: Blood Kink - Vampire!Bucky

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #bucky imagine #bucky barnes smut #biker!bucky #biker!bucky x reader #biker!au #biker!bucky smut #roommate!bucky smut #biker au #bucky barnes self insert #roommate!bucky #bucky angst

[krya-unv]

Inspired by @spectralarchers biker!au fanfic, take back streets to avoid the fuzz.

Ghost asks Soap to take a picture of him on his bike cause the light is just right, but Ghost’s being picky about the result.

#ghostsoap #soapghost #codmwii #biker!au #i've been thinking way too much about soap being ghost's backpack #just feels so right you know #mechanically inaccurate motorbike #also Ghost's being pissy but he's actually really in love #he just doesnt know how to say it out loud yet #cod #this is my first comic ever and it looks like it #but im really proud of it #my art

[vilsoo]

I need biker!mike au headcanons now

• biker!michael who fucks you till you cry but at the same time makes love with you. your mouth would be left agape in silent pleasure, unable to utter a single word while he fucks your cunt. you just lie there and take it, blinking back tears with your walls fluttering around him. you can’t even warn him when your third orgasm washes over because it comes so suddenly.

• biker!michael who takes sick pleasure from this, sometimes even degrades you for being his little whore. but at the same time he’ll praise you, whisper passionate things in your ears that make your heart melt, and caress your body sweetly.

• biker!michael who shows up a little late to a simple date in the park at night because of another fight he got into. while waiting in agitation, you were suddenly surprised by michael running to you holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers. when he catches up, you were just left in bewilderment.

• biker!michael who would grin widely like a total idiot at you with all the fresh wounds still in his face, panting heavily as he catches his breath. even the bouquet would be a mess because of the wind, but it was enough to warm your heart from his commitment.

• biker!michael who always, always keeps you close by whenever you go out with him, specifically in shady areas of town. he’s very protective when it comes to you and your safety; he would never let a few seconds go by without keeping an eye on you. and if any man stares at either you or him weirdly, it’s on sight.

• biker!michael who rolls for you and gets high with you after sex. you’d sit on your bay window with his leather jacket on your shoulders and nothing underneath, your thighs laying on his lap for him to caress. he’d even shotgun you a hit, subtly kissing you and turning your bedroom to a hotbox.

• biker!michael who is an absolute sucker for the love bites and hickeys you mark all over him. all over his chest tattoos, all over his neck, and sometimes on his thighs. the way you’re marking him like he’s your territory and that he belongs to you only sends him to a daze. he loves that shit too much.

• biker!michael who wakes up one morning and lazily plants kisses on your entire face before pulling in for passionate kiss on your lips. it gives a warm feeling inside that he wasn’t just in for the lust— he truly prized you. the man was undeniably in love with you and couldn’t imagine himself without you.

#( ♥︎ ) — received. #biker!au #biker!michael afton #fnaf michael afton #fnaf smut #fnaf x reader #michael afton x reader #michael afton x you #michael afton fluff #michael afton smut

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Royal Treatment

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

Character: biker!Frank Castle

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah,” you utter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Get away–”

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

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

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

“You fucking ass,” you snarl.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck you,” you snap.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No!” You gulp out, “don’t–”

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

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

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

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

[justhereforeskel]

For Syndramise on Twitter 💜🐺

My gift for the @witcherficwriters Witcher Winter Gift Exchange!

#eskel #geralt #modern!au #biker!au #tw3 fanart #geralt's headband #my art

[kaunis-sielu]

My Girl

You loved working at the local children’s clinic. Not something that you ever thought that you’d say, a hospital isn’t exactly known for being a good time. But you liked your coworkers, you liked helping the families and you liked getting to see the kids that came in. You also liked getting to meet the volunteers that came in, the only thing that you didn’t like was the location. You were in a little strip mall type building, all of the businesses have separate front and back entrances but are all connected to each other. The clinic is on the end of the building, right next to the gym, the one that was owned by a man named Peter Quill.

The day you’d started he’d noticed you getting out of your car. Unfortunately, your office required you to dress in business professional which meant heels, a pencil skirt, blouse and suit jacket. He’d wolf whistled at you as he’d unlocked the door to his own business, Starlord Gym, and you’d pointedly ignored him. He’d taken to coming into the clinic a day every week and flirting with you until you could be rescued by a phone call or client coming into the clinic.

Then you’d met him, Steve Rogers. He’d brought in a little girl with red hair and blue eyes. She’d fallen while he’d been babysitting for his friends and when her head kept bleeding he’d hustled her to the closest hospital, well, clinic.

You’d gotten her checked in, Mara Barton was a patient of yours, and the doctor had taken care of the cut. Steve had even paid in full for the appointment,

“It’s my fault that she fell in the first place.” He’d told you looking guilty, “We were playing tag and she tripped on a blanket.”

“It happens, you’d be surprised the number of playing accidents that happen every day. She’ll bounce back just fine.” You glance over at the little girl who was looking at a book, before whispering, “I’ve found that ice cream can heal all wounds.” He laughs softly,

“I’ve heard that too. Thank you.”

You’d continued to run into Steve over the next few weeks. At your favorite ice cream place where you’d found him with Mara and her parents, the grocery store then your favorite take out place.

“Are you following me Mr. Rogers?” You ask him with a little smile so that he knows you’re teasing him.

“I was going to ask you the same thing.” He says with that easy smile of his. “Are you new to the area?”

“I am, sort of.” You tell him, “I used to live on the south side but when I broke up with my ex I wanted to live closer to my family.”

“Well you clearly have great taste in take out.” He says gesturing to the food in your hand.

“I like to think so.”

“Maybe, you’d like to do some dessert after? It’s a nice night out, we could go to the park and eat?” He asks rubbing the back of his neck.

“That sounds great.” You tell him with a smile, “You wanna ride together?”

“Sure, we can take my bike if you’re comfortable with that.” He offers and you nod, you’ve never been on a motorcycle before but you’ve always wanted to. “I just need to pay for my food,” a group of people come into the small store and the space suddenly feels far too small.

“I can meet you outside?” You offer and you think he can see the discomfort on your face because Steve gives you a little smile and nod and you slip out the doors breathing a sigh of relief.

“Well, well, what a nice little surprise this is.” Your heart sinks, you know that voice but god you wish you didn’t.

“Peter, hi.” You say flatly as he looks you up and down.

“You’re lookin’ good today, so sexy.”

“No. Peter. Stop.” You say tiredly, you’ve had enough.

“No? I can’t compliment you?”

“You know what? No. You can’t. A compliment is something like, ‘oh, I like your shoes’ or ‘how you did your hair is nice’. What you’re doing is harassment. Especially because I’ve told you I don’t like it and to stop, please, please stop.”

“Wow, you’re a real fucking bitch huh?”

“Yea, hundred percent.” You agree and he glares at you as the door opens behind you,

“Hey Babe?” Steve says and when your anxious gaze meets his calm one you know that he knows exactly how uncomfortable you are.

“Is it cool if we stop and at Clint and Nat’s? I wanna check in on my favorite little pip squeak.” He says strolling over to you.

“Yea that’s fine.”

“The fuck is this?” Peter asks looking furious, “you told me you didn’t have a boyfriend.”

“Last time you asked, technically I didn’t.” Steve throws his arm over your shoulders and presses a quick kiss to the crown of your head,

“Everything okay here Sweetheart?” He drawls and you nod, for some reason you don’t think it’s a good idea for Steve to know what Peter has said. “Good. We should get goin’ then.” He guides you away from Peter but stops and removes his arm from your shoulders then takes the three steps it takes him to crowd Peter’s space.

“Oh, and if you ever talk to my woman like that again, you even look at her funny I’ll make life real uncomfortable for you. I know who you are, and you know who I am, so you know I’m not fuckin’ around.” He growls and your heart skips a beat, you didn’t know that he could make that noise and that it would be so sexy.

“Yea, I do but does she?” Peter asks looking far too pleased for your liking. When Steve doesn’t say anything Peter grins, “I’ll take that as a no. You gonna show her your real colors Cap?”

Steve lets out a low growl then turns away from Peter and his eyes soften when they lock on yours. You give him a small smile as he walks back toward you, but you can see some worry in his eyes.

“Sorry Sweetheart, ready to go?”

“Yea,” You tell him taking his hand. Steve looks surprised for a second but then gives you a smile and leads you to his bike.

“I only have one helmet so I’m gonna have you wear it. We can stop back at my place real quick if you don’t mind to grab my spare.” He says, you are going to ask him what Peter was talking about but not now. When you get to his bike he opens the seat and tucks both of your meals into the space then passes you the helmet. “You’re sure you wanna do this?”

“I am curious about what you meant with Peter earlier about he knows who you are? And he called you Cap?”

“I’m the leader of a biker club.” He says quickly, like he’s ripping off a bandaid.

“Oh. Okay.” You tell him tugging on the helmet, when he looks at you in surprise you freeze, “what?”

“That’s it?”

“I mean, yes?”

“You’re not concerned that I’m in a gang or something?”

“Should I be?” You ask raising one eyebrow and Steve laughs before taking your hand and pressing a kiss to the palm.

“Oh Sweetheart, you’re gonna keep me on my toes and I cannot wait.” He tells you with a grin.

“You plan on keeping me around?”

“Oh, hell yes I do.” He says before kissing you soundly, his hands bump the side of the helmet as he kisses you. “Hope that’s okay with you?” He murmurs before your gaze meets his again.

“I think I’ll manage.” You tell him brightly and he laughs again then swings a leg over his bike and offers you a hand to get on. He presses another kiss to your palm then revs the engine before pulling out of the parking lot. Oh yes, you’ll manage just fine.

Tag list:

@pokey-hedgehog @foxyjwls007 @andahugaroundtheneck @also-fangirlinsweden @pagina16ps @princesssterek @valsworldofcreativity @dumblani @inkedaztec @loving-life-my-way @animegirlgeeky @shinycupcakebaker @eralen @sophham @gh0stgurl @wonderlandfandomkingdom @patzammit @abschaffer2 @capsiclesdoll

#biker!au #biker!steve rogers #biker!steve rogers x reader #biker!captain america x reader #biker!captain america #biker oneshot

[world-of-aus]

One Shots;

Wish You Were Here; Bucky will go to any extent to protect his family, even to the extent of pushing you far away from him, but has he gone to far this time.

Home Is Where The Heart Is; Sometime hard choices have to be made to protect those you love.

Mini Series;

The Serpent & The Dove; “There are some things that can’t be changed with words. Some things have to be seen. They have to be felt”

#Biker!au #biker!bucky x reader #biker!bucky x you

[weirdochick56]

Sin- Steve Rogers AU Chapter Ten

Biker!Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Explicit language, set in a universe where Pietro isn’t Wanda’s twin, but her older brother!!! 

Disclaimers: I don’t own any MCU plots/characters mentioned.

Word Count: 4, 370 Words

Summary: Lines are blurred and emotions run high when Steve and Reader find themselves in a vulnerable state with eachother. 

A/N: I know it’s been too long. I hope you all still care, if not it’s alright but regardless, hope you enjoy. <3

READ CHAPTER NINE HERE!!

*

(gif not mine!!)

You’re sleeping soundly when suddenly, a loud THUD jolts you out of your sleep. Sitting up in bed, startled and dazed, you strain against the darkness of the room, searching for the origin of the sound. 

Your mind sways with sleep and it takes you a while to finally come to, but when you do, you hear rustling from downstairs, and your heart jolts. Still sleepy, you get out of bed and trudge carefully towards the living room, barefooted as the carpet of the stairs presses into your feet reassuring you that you were in fact awake and this was in fact real and not a dream. 

The sound gets louder and you squint when your gaze naturally reaches the couch in the middle of the living room.

And what you find awaiting you is nothing short of horrific.

You see Steve toss and turn beneath his blanket aggressively, little groans leaving his lips.

Fear instantly grips you and you practically run over to him, afraid that he’s hurt. 

You crouch down next to him, worry gripping your every cell. His groans turn into whimpers and you lean closer, watching him tensely.

A bead of sweat from his hairline rolls down his scrunched-up forehead, traveling further down his troubled face and then his flushed neck before disappearing into his blanket. 

You don’t know whether to attempt waking him up or not but seeing him like this…it…

You wince, gripping at your heart slightly. 

It hurt. 

You reach your hand out, ready to wake him up…And yet you can’t bring yourself to do so.. 

There’s such vulnerability in seeing him like this…you’re almost too absorbed by his pain and yours to wake him up. 

So you sit, you sit and you watch him. You don’t know what kind of nightmare he’s having but there is a sense of closeness you feel by being there while he has it. 

Are you the first person who sees him like this? So broken and afraid? 

Steve’s POV

I’m six years old again, my father’s voice is loud even as I cower behind his desk. 

“Joseph, please!” I hear my mom sob brokenly, begging him to stop even as the room lies in complete disarray, stuff torn and broken all over. “Steven he’s-“

“A useless piece of shit!” My father cuts her off and I can practically see his snarl. 

I try to do as mom had instructed and cover my ears, but my small trembling fingers do nothing to keep out my father’s rough voice, always so thick with disdain and hatred for my mother and me. 

I hated it. I hated him. 

“Don’t say that about him!” She yells back with what I knew was a very small amount of courage. “He’s just a kid! But he’s smart and he’s strong.”

My father’s cold disregarding laugh stayed imprinted on my mind for the rest of my life after that night. 

“Smart and strong?” he growled, in disbelief. “He’s a fucking half-wit with as much value as an expired fucking coupon.”  

I instantly felt pain flood me and I whimpered as the words seared through me. My father didn’t miss a single chance to let me know how useless and invaluable he thought I was.

The next thing I knew, the desk was flying off from around me and the cold air was rushing in. I spun around in my fetal position as my mom rushed forward, her face bruised and blotchy with tears. Papers and pens flew everywhere and I watched them, eyes wide. 

“Joseph no-“

But it was too late. My dad took a hold of my shoulders, lifting me as I wailed for him to let me go. His mean face never ceased as he roughly carried me to another room. 

I kicked and screamed to no avail. I knew how this nightmare would end. 

And I knew because it was a memory more than a nightmare. 

Feeling inevitable doom and absolute horror grip me as my father dragged me to my bedroom, sat me on the floor, and took off his belt, I flinched. 

He looked down at me with disgust. Cold and impenetrable. 

“You fucking mistake,” he mused coldly. “I’m gonna teach you a thing or two about being a fucking man.” 

And then he raised his belt. 

“No!” 

I feel someone gently shaking me and a sweet voice cutting through my nightmare. 

“Steve!” 

Just then I jolt awake. I sit up straight, panting loud as hell. 

My head instinctively seeks out the voice and I find the beautiful face of Y/n, staring at me with great fucking concern. 

My eyes are still wide and my chest heaves. I look down at myself just to find a thin layer of sweat covering me, a sheen. 

Swallowing with difficulty, I draw in a sharp breath and close my eyes for a split second. God fucking dammit. Not this shit again. Not….in front of her.

“A-are you okay?” 

That sweet voice. That sweet fucking voice. It brings me instant relief, making me feel like there was kindness and light even in moments like these and yet…it also brought me discomfort.

Knowing she was seeing me like this made me feel guilty-- like she didn’t deserve to see this side of me and it was an unusual form of torture. 

So I rub my hand over my face and try to smile at her reassuringly as best I can. Though I can feel my lips tremble slightly. 

“I’m okay, Angel. Just a little night terror. I’m sorry for waking you up. You should go back to bed.” 

But her frown deepens and those pretty eyes seek my gaze out for further confirmation which causes my chest to constrict that much more at how worried she looks. 

She’s fucking adorable. 

“I’ll go get you some water,” she whispers after giving me a light once over. 

And then without waiting for my response she heads into the kitchen. 

I inhale deeply as I hear her rustling about in the kitchen, searching for a cup to fill with water, feeling mentally and physically exhausted. 

The nightmares were a common occurrence so I could deal with them to some extent. But having someone here when I woke up from one…that was a different matter altogether.  

Y/n returns with a glass of water, handing it to me as she crouches before me again. I see her face is still creased into that ridiculously cute little frown and I can’t help but reach out and smooth the silky skin out with my fingers. 

“Stop frowning like someone died,” I croak jokingly before taking a sip of cool water. 

But Y/n doesn’t smile. Instead, she titls her head at me and my fingers naturally fall onto her jaw, gripping it slightly. Her pulse is strong and steady beneath my fingertips and something about it lulls me in calmness.

This. This was real life. 

Her long lashes flutter and her eyes sparkle as she gives me a look akin to that of a kicked puppy. 

“Steve…” she whines a little. 

Good God she’s pretty when she’s worried. 

How I have her this close and still haven’t done anything ungentlemanly is a fucking mystery. 

 “Stop acting like you’re okay,” she whispers before swallowing. “Your nightmare was pretty bad, am I right?” 

I sigh, looking away slightly because I know there’s no getting out of this. Her soft hand gently creeps up and her tiny fingers grip mine. 

It’s a small thing- definitely not something someone like me should trip over but it’s still significant. 

I’ve always been the one to initiate physical contact with Y/n and even when she’s reciprocated it’s never been this…tender. 

My eyes slowly crawl back to hers, questioning. I expect her to redden in that cute way she does when she becomes embarrassed, to cower and draw her hand back quickly, but she doesn’t. 

Instead, her fingers curl around my hand tightly and I all but fall apart. 

“You can tell me, Steve. You can tell me anything.” 

Any walls I had? Those words right there just abolished them. 

And then my mouth is moving without asking for permission first. 

“It was about my dad,” I whisper, feeling an avalanche of memories and emotions I’ve worked hard to keep down coming up suddenly. 

She seems to look at me expectantly, but I quickly swallow the bile crawling up my throat and shake my head, giving her a crooked smile. 

“Anyway, it’s old news. Past shit, no need to worry about it now.”  I caress her cheek with my thumb and she seems to catch onto the fact that I don’t really feel like talking about it and relents. 

“Okay,” she mumbles even though I can tell from her eyes she has a million things to ask me. 

I nod, sighing a little in relief. “Okay.” 

Then she says something really unexpected. 

“Sleep with me.” 

My head snaps towards her. She instantly grows flushed, shaking her head profusely. “O-oh my God! That came out all wrong,” she wheezes, biting her lip. “I meant come sleep with me, as in sleep next to me. On the bed.” 

I can’t help the small laugh that escapes me. 

“You’re something else, angel.” 

I shake my head affectionately and she smacks her forehead. 

I shrug as my laughter subsides.  “I already told you why I can’t do that.” 

A beat passes and I get the sense she’s thinking. Suddenly she perks up. 

“What if I put a wall of pillows between us?” 

Her suggestion is a blurt, really, as if it was lighting thought that escaped her mouth before she could really think it through and I can’t help but cock a brow. “Huh.” 

She nods, fiddling with her fingers. “C’mon,” she urges, eyes desperate. 

“It’s just…” she eyes the couch, sighing.  “I feel bad kicking you out of your own bed. And I haven’t been able to sleep properly because of it. Please, I’ll have pillows between us.” 

I can feel my lips curling on one side, unable to hold back the urge to tease her. I lean forward a little. 

“And do you really think…” I lick my lips for emphasis. “If I really fucking wanted to, a few pillows would be enough to keep me away?” 

She scoffs nervously, scratching her neck slightly. “Steve, c’mon. You’re not some big bad wolf and I’m not a scared little girl. We’ll be fine.” 

“So you’re not scared huh?” 

She swallows. “No.”

I offer her my best predatory smile, flicking her a dark look. 

“You should be. Who knows..” I trail off licking my lips lightly.

“I could blow your little pillow wall down and ravage you…”

She trembles a little and I see the hairs on her arms rise. Pride overcomes me and I fight to not smile like an idiot as she struggles to say something in return. 

“You’re not scary Steve. So just c’mon,” She squeaks. 

I smirk. “Okay then. If you’re certain, then I’ll sleep with you-“ my smirk widens. “Next to you I mean.” 

She nods a bit timidly and I can’t help the part of me, the dark one, that wants to devour her whole- innocence and all.  

Maybe I am a big bad wolf after all.

She slowly rises and my eyes instantly stray to her glorious body, which I now remember is clothed only by the tiniest of bikinis and my shirt. 

I instantly regret giving in. Especially when I see her go up the stairs. 

The shirt flutters over her creamy thighs, giving just the tiniest most torturous peek at her perky ass and I groan a little as I reluctantly follow her. 

The death of me, she’d be. 

*

Your POV

“So this is your so-called wall?” Steve eyes the small makeshift divider you created on the bed, using up all but four pillows with bemusement. 

You nod shyly, refusing to look him in the eye and he chuckles a little. 

“Fine,” he quips and you look at him with a small smile. 

His fingers quickly reach down to the hem of his sleeping pants and without so much as a second of hesitation, he tugs them down, swiftly stepping out of them. 

God damn. 

Your mouth all but falls open. 

His impressive torso flexes when he crosses his arms over his strong chest and your eyes trail over it, sliding down until they land on his crotch area…where he’s only wearing a pair of gray Calvin Klein boxers.

You feel your eyes widen and your cheeks feel hot. Sure you’d seen him shirtless plenty of times before, but it never lost its shock factor. Not one tiny bit.

Steve, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to take much note of your flustered state and instead casually strides closer to the bed. 

You bite your lip as you watch him. Do guys get to have such nice asses? You wonder. 

As if sensing your eyes on him, he looks at you over his shoulder and you quickly switch your gaze to his eyes. Judging from his shit-eating grin not fast enough though. 

He cocks a brow. “Coming?” 

You bite your lip, suddenly feeling uneasy. The proximity in which you’d be is suddenly sinking in. 

“Um…”

He runs a hand through his hair. “Oh c’mon, you’re not backing out now are you?” 

“Of course not. I just…I’m going.” You shake your head decisively.

You do a funny little jog to the bed and Steve laughs loudly as you quickly get under the covers, pulling them up to your chin and turning away from his side. Your heart beats erratically in your ears as you hear him sink into the bed beside you.

The wall is between us, you reason. There’s also no way Steve would ever do anything inappropriate. You haven’t known him long but you…trusted him. 

It was an irrational kind of trust, one you couldn’t explain but could feel with your very being. 

Silence falls over you and you suddenly feel the need to break it. 

“Steve?” you call out quietly. 

“Yes?”

“Who’s Sarah?” 

Stillness. No one says anything and you cringe instantly. God, you stupid idiot! You open your mouth to apologize profusely, but his soft sigh cuts you off. 

“Why do you want to know?” Nothing in his voice is angry or confrontational, just curious. 

You turn on your back, staring at the ceiling as you swallow thickly. 

“…your tattoo,” you whisper. 

He hums in understanding before releasing another tiny sigh. 

“My mom. It was my mom’s name.”

His voice is quiet but you still manage to catch the slight tremble to it. 

Your eyebrows reflectively raise at his revelation. “Oh.” 

“She died when I was fourteen.” 

You’re shocked into silence at the fact that he had willingly divulged that information. Clearing your throat softly, you speak…

“What was she like?” 

Steve sucks in a sharp breath. “Strong as hell,” he breathes out. “Resilient. The best mother in the world. Soft and kind-hearted as fuck but she swore like a sailor.” 

You can help but smile a little. “Sounds a lot like you.”

Steve laughs but when it ceases, silence ensues once more. 

Then he breaks it. 

“Doll?” 

“Mhm.”

“I don’t want you to think I’m a good guy,” he rasps. 

You frown. 

“W-why do you say that?” You stumble the tiniest bit over your words. 

“You know why,” he spits as if your very question aggravated him. “You can deny it all you want but…” he trails off. “You don’t have to say what your body says for you.” 

At that, you suck in a sharp breath. He’s right. But for once it’s not his analysis of your feelings for him that makes a sharp anger spike in you it’s something else entirely this time.

You were so sick and tired of people treating you like a weakling. First Stephen, who thought he could take advantage of you, and now Steve warning you away…why? 

Sitting upright, you roughly knock a few pillows from the wall down, so your top halves were revealed and you were face to face. Frowning you fix your gaze upon his.  

“You underestimate me. I’m not under any delusions Steve,” you growl. “So don’t treat me like some spoiled little girl who needs constant warning and protection and who has no self-control when it comes to staying away from dangerous things.”

Decisively, you plop back down on the bed, angrily panting as you glare holes into the ceiling. You can feel his eyes boring into your temple. 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he whispers.  

“Yeah.” You click your tongue, refusing to look at him. “You never do.”

“Fuck Y/n,” He hisses and you instantly look at him. “What the hell is it that you want from me? Huh?” 

“Me?” you point at yourself. 

His glare intensifies. “Yes, you. I mean you spent all this fucking time and energy trying to keep me away from you despite all my fucking efforts to win you over and the one damn time I try to warn you away you get pissed, indignant?” 

“Yes because you’re patronizing me, Steve!” You yell this at him yet it’s clear in your heart the true reason his words get a rise out of you. 

“You have no idea, do you?” He laughs incredulously. 

“About what?”

His eyes flare with anger, dark and feral. “About what I’m capable of. The things I’ve done. About the fact that it’s not your self-control, that’s fucking lacking…it’s mine.” 

Your lips part in shock as he continues speaking. 

“I’m not warning you away from me because I think you’re weak or you don’t have a fucking mind of your own. I’m warning you away from me because I’m letting my guard down around you and once you see who I really am…” he looks away, eyeing the ceiling. Your chest tightens as he smirks in a self-deprecating manner, turning back and slotting his eyes into your patient ones. 

“I’m not so sure you’d like what you’ll see,” he whispers. “Who I am…it goes farther than the shit that’s on the surface. It’s so much fucking deeper than a few tattoos and a tough guy exterior. It’s…” he winces. “Uglier.” 

He looks so vulnerable right now so…scared. God, was he afraid, truly? 

You feel a deep sense of conflict rise in you. On one hand, you had an overwhelming urge to assure him no matter what he showed you, you wouldn’t run away but on the other hand, there was fear. You were afraid of what he might show you, and how it might change you. 

Everything you’d been taught growing up, was to keep you from this specific situation. One where you were all alone with a dangerous felon, covered in tattoos and more than capable of ending you, it’d be stupid of you to throw caution to the wind…right? 

But it was different with Steve, your curiosity and an almost unbeatable desire to get closer to him, to figure him out despite all the darkness that lurked…it haunted you. And you knew deep down it wouldn’t leave until you got to see him…all of him. 

Your body moves without warning, slow but decided as you slowly kick the covers off of your body and brought your legs over the edge.

As you rounded the bed to his side, Steve’s brows rose practically to his hairline. “Y/n what’re y-” 

You walk to his side and sit beside him, fixing him a serious gaze. “Let me decide that for myself,” you whisper. 

And then you tentatively reach out, hoping he wouldn’t see the way your hand trembled as you placed it gently on the side of his face- much like he’d done to you before. 

His muscles tightened beneath your touch and his gaze flickered into something much more lustful as he stared up at your face with slight bewilderment. 

“What’re you saying?” He rasped. 

“Show me. Show me all you’ve got.” 

Steve sucked in a sharp breath, his jaw clenching. “Y/n…”

“Don’t,” you spit, shaking your head as your gaze never wavered from his. “Don’t make excuses, Steve. I’m not intoxicated and I’m asking you to show me.” 

His gaze becomes darker, his lips tightly pursed before he speaks again, carefully. “You have no idea what you’re asking for dollface, I can’t…I’d ruin your innocence. And I don’t know if I can forgive myself after doing something like that.” 

You’re frustrated, desperate…and a little wet. His gaze is boring into you and his scent overpowers you…the possibility of experiencing something dangerous hangs over you and it exhilarates you to the point that your head spins. 

Looking at him, you know he’s putting on a strong front, but it’s easily breakable for you. You just have to know what buttons to push. 

“Men are simple creatures,” your mom used to say. “Keep something they truly want away from them long enough and they become so desperate they’ll do anything to get it.” 

As the words ring in your head, a dangerous plan forms. What did Steve want more than anything right now?

If the bulge you’ve been trying to ignore for the better part of the night is anything to go by…that’s you. 

The plan forming in your mind was dangerous, too dangerous. And although not necessarily difficult to execute, definitely nerve-racking. Still, a fire that’s difficult to describe burns in you, insistently burning away the spikes of ice surrounding your insides…your heart. 

You wanted-no needed to do this. To feel him closer. 

Trying not to show how nervous you are, you keep looking him in the eye and gently lift yourself up, bringing your leg over to one of his sides and propping the other on the other side. Your heart races as your knees sink into the soft mattress with a little creak and your core lightly brushed against Steve’s hard boxer-clad cock. 

Steve, who has been watching you do this with a slightly confused and dazed face, instantly tenses when you sink over him, straddling him fully. 

You await his reaction on a bated breath, nerves vibrating with life.

And then his eyes are moving all over you in an instant as if he wants to take a picture of you sitting over him, his chest heaves harder with each second that passes, and his cock swells beneath you. His eyes grow impossibly more animalistic as they flicker to yours, incredulous and turned on but also…pissed. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He growls, his face tightening.

You resist the urge to shrink back at his angry words, and instead move on with your dangerous plan, trailing the hand that was previously caressing his face down his neck, over his racing pulse, and slightly scratching your nails over his warm chest. 

Steve practically moans. 

“Y/n…stop,” he breathes, eyelids growing heavy and half-hooded. 

“I want to see you…all of you Steve,” you mumble decisively, batting your lashes at him, turning your head. 

Steve practically disintegrates, his neck corded with restraint, his hands tightly fisted and trembling beside him and his eyes manic. 

“Y/n, I swear to everything that’s good in this world, you need to stop. I have no control over what I do around you as is and…” He clenches his jaw. “You’re going to regret pushing me.”

You know you should listen to him, you should head to his warning, you should take your legs away from him, remove your hands from his body…fuck, you should’ve stayed away from him from the very beginning. But like from the very beginning, you can’t stay away. 

Fervor takes over you and for an instant, your walls melt away completely, your cold exterior, your constantly heightened guard…and all that’s left is you, vulnerable bare you. 

“Steve,” you clip your tone, hating the manner in which it trembles and you pin his gaze down with yours. “I need you…”

You gently grab a hold of his hands, which are fastened into fists on the bed, slowly bringing them up to your body and placing them on your hips. Steve is watching the action with ever-darkening eyes and sucks in a sharp breath the moment his fingers press onto your flesh over the shirt.

“I tried to warn you.” 

That is the last thing he growls before he’s swiftly flipping you on your back. A gasp escapes you at the blindsiding action as your head hits the soft pillow and suddenly you’re staring up at him, your legs pride open as he slots himself in between them, his big hand gripping your wrists, pinning them above your head. 

His cool gaze pierces straight through you, no longer cold and calculating, but hot and with not an ounce of control.

Your heart begins to hammer in your chest at the possibility of what this compromising position could mean. Just as you part your lips to say something, you hear some noise outside the window. 

A loud crash echoes throughout the otherwise silent night, causing both you and Steve to jump instantly. And then…another crash. 

Steve’s face contorts into confusion and he scowls, quickly getting off of you and pulling on some sleeping pants from a pile near the door.

You watch him, still dazed, and purse your lips, trying to control your wildly beating heart. 

He seems completely unaffected aside from the bulge in his pants as he pries the window next to the bed open, swiftly. 

Instantly, his face transforms from confusion to something akin to both concern and slight anger. 

Quickly, he turns to you, holding a hand out. “Wait right here,” he says sternly, and then he’s gone. As you hear his retreating footsteps, you release a big breath, feeling the tension released from your very bones. 

You hadn’t realized just how tense you were in the first place how much he affected you. With a frown of your own, you hesitantly moved towards the window. 

Moving the curtains aside, your face quickly transforms in a very similar trajectory as Steve’s. 

Your heart drops and you freeze completely. 

In front of the house is Steve and someone else. The last person you expected.

Your lips tremble as you blurt the name quietly. 

“P-pietro?” 

***

I have risen from the dead!!

A special thanks to:

@cynic-spirit​​

@samwinter09​​​

@daughterofthenight117​​​

@patzammit​​​

@readermia​​​

@jessikared97​​​

@ladyofletters67​​​

@lilypalmer1987​​​

@sammykb1994​​​

@mogaruke​​​

@tomshelbystits​​​

@actorinfluence​​​

@hottubbaby​​​

@rosalynshields​​​

@peaches-roses-sins​​​

@sanne-kijani​​​

@dbnightingale24​​​

@holl2712​​​

@amberritonicole​​​

@aikeia

@mycraazyworldd​​​

@toomanyrobins2​​​

@natdrunk​​

@mjolnir-steve-thor-blog​​​

@dontbescaredtosingalong​​​

@lowkeysebby​

@learning-howto-be-myselfx3​​​

#Chris Evans #chris evans x reader #biker!AU #biker!steve rogers #biker!steve rogers x reader #Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader

[metalbuckaroo]

Sweet Nothings Pt. 3

Summary// Not knowing what he wants, Bucky sends you to stay with a probate.

Warnings// cursing, mentions of virginity, Bucky and reader argue, a smidgen of angst, mentions of alcohol and tobacco use, pussy job, age gap (reader early to mid 20s, Bucky mid 30s), Bucky has commitment issues, fingering, smut, unprotected sex (wrap it), some feels

AU// dbf!biker!bucky x innocent!f!reader

Note// this has been done for SO LONG, but I just haven’t been ready to let go of it yet.

SERIES MASTERLIST

18+ ONLY MINORS DNI

It had been nearly two months since you’d last seen your dad, the time being spent drowning yourself in Bucky. Craving more and more of his touch each time, more of the rush you felt when his sturdy frame would settle between your legs or when you’d see his blissed out expressions as he’d fall apart.

Even if he wouldn’t let it get as far as you’d like.

Always stopping when he started to get too carried away, or when he was satisfied with the fucked out look on your face and incoherent words you spilled out after he pulled as many orgasms from you that he thought you could take.

Every morning started out the same- Bucky being awake before you, already showered and making his way back into his bed to wake you with soft kisses against your jaw. Warm hand carefully pushing your thighs apart so he could settle between them as your fingertips ghosted across his skin. Your movements slow as you’d pull yourself out of your sleepy state.

He’d never go farther than leaving light kisses along your shoulder until you were fully responding to him. Plump lips exploring the exposed skin before your hands would hold his cheeks to pull his lips to yours. Slowly getting lost in each other, his skin still damp from the shower as his fingers would pull your underwear to the side.

The weight of his cock against your folds making your heart race as he’d gently roll his hips. Each measured push forward coating his shaft in your slick more and more as he swallowed your breathy sounds. Bucky’s hand slipping down to help guide himself against your clit.

Your fingertips never failed to raise goosebumps across his skin. Traveling across the taut, tattooed skin of his back and chest, their careful touch always aided in the swirl that built at his base as your body would tense under him. Your lips finally leaving his when your head would tip back against the pillows in a hushed moan.

And, he would always follow close behind. Muscles in his abdomen tensing and face scrunching in pleasure as his jaw flexed in attempt to bite back his groans. It wasn’t hard to figure out when he was close to falling apart.

But, what you couldn’t seem to figure out was the completely blank stare on his sharp features as he looked at the concrete of his porch where the rest of the morning was always spent. Gently rocking the swing as he exhaled the grey smoke of his cigarette.

“I’m not very good for you, sugar. I shouldn’t be doing the things I have been, and I’m sorry.” He spoke quietly, breaking the silence the two of you had been sitting in while watching the passing traffic. Worried that if he spoke much louder it would truly tear you away from him.

You furrowed your eyebrows at the side of his face, his attention staying on whoever was passing by. “I thought it was something we both wanted…” you murmured, watching as he rubbed a hand over his eyes.

“I do want it- I did- fuck.” Bucky huffed out a breath, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “I just- think about it. Okay? Think about where this will actually get us. The reality of the whole thing.”

“I get it, James.” You sighed, leaning further back into the cheap plastic chair diagonal to where he was sat.

Clouded blues finally met your eyes, no sign showing on his features of what he was actually thinking. “Do you? Because, I don’t think you do.”

“What’s that suppose to mean?” You scrunched your nose at him, folding your arms across your chest.

“With your whole breakup and not going back to college. Do you really think sleeping with me is going to make you feel better?” Bucky scoffed, shaking his head as he flicked the cigarette butt into his yard.

“What’s that suppose to mean?”

He could hear the aggravation seeping into your words as you repeated yourself, letting out a heavy sigh and looking back to the concrete. “You’re not getting my point and being thick headed like always.” He muttered.

“Now you’re just being an ass.” You mumbled, looking back to where the neighbors were pulling weeds from their flowerbed.

“What do you expect from this? Me to knock you up, decide ‘well, I got her pregnant might as well marry her’, so you can be stuck with me? Is that what you want?” He snapped, getting a scoff in response as you glared at him.

“You act like that is exactly how it will play out, because you don’t want to give anything a chance.” You retorted, his jaw tight as he shook his head at you.

“I’m not gonna be responsible for any life decisions you make. I’ll have one of the probates stay with you until this shit with your dad blows over.” Bucky grumbled, standing to walk back into his house without another word.

Following close behind, you gathered the freshly folded clothes that sat on his couch. “Guess I’ll pack my bag since you never want to talk about anything. You make these decisions without so much as asking what I think.”

“Because I already know, sugar! I already know that you have no fucking clue what it is that you want, because I know damn well it isn’t me!” You rolled your eyes at his heightened tone, cramming your things into your bag.

“You always think you know everything.” Breathing a dry laugh, you stopped to look at him as he watched you from the kitchen. “Is it really that hard to believe that someone actually wants you? Look at you, for Christ’s sake. You’re a walking wet dream.”

“Whatever.” He grumbled, turning his attention to the pot of coffee. Watching every drip that slowly filled the glass in attempt to keep his mind off of the twist that came with the thought of you no longer taking up the empty space in his bed.

“Yeah, whatever.”

—————————

The last time Bucky heard anything from you was earlier in the day when he’d dropped you off at a probates apartment not far away. Not even getting a text since.

He had to admit he didn’t like how quiet his house was again. You weren’t somewhere humming a familiar song, or rambling on about different things next to him. And, it felt brutal.

The silence was to the point it was making his ears ring, and even the TV didn’t make up for the lack of someone to talk to.

So, when his phone had rang as it sat on his coffee table, he was a little relieved.

“Barnes.” Bucky sighed when he answered, snuffing his cigarette out in the ashtray.

“Your girl is here, had a few drinks.” Stew’s voice said through the speaker.

“My- goddammit.” Bucky groaned quietly, rubbing a hand down his face when it clicked who he was talking about. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

He couldn’t deny the way his stomach lurched as he drove to the bar, thinking over how many different things could happen without him being there with you. The sun just starting to set as he pulled his truck into the parking lot.

Bucky felt his skin burn when he saw you sat with a man closer to your age at the bar. Your expression solemn as he stormed over after the man had walked away. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Drinking and talking to Mason. What are you doing?” You said with a light laugh, poking a finger into the middle of his sturdy chest.

He huffed out an aggravated breath and tossed money into the counter to pay for your drink. “Hauling your ass back home. C’mon.”

You shrugged his hand off of your upper arm, waving a hand at him in dismissal. “Fuck off, James. I’m not going home.” You sighed.

“Yes, you are.” He insisted through gritted teeth.

“You alright, sugar?” Bucky’s eyes flared with anger as he looked at Mason. The younger man taking a step back from the shift in Bucky’s demeanor.

“Excuse me?” He snapped, catching the way you rolled your eyes and sighed heavily.

“That’s what you call her, I figured it was a nickname.”

“Don’t say it again.” Bucky said, tone low and threatening as he gently gripped your upper arm. “Let’s go.”

Reluctantly, you followed him out of the bar. Not saying a word as you shut the passenger door to his truck.

“Are you stupid? All of the bars in town and you chose that one.” Bucky said as he pulled out of the parking lot. Glancing over at you as you turned in your seat a little bit in attempt to ignore him.

“I’ve been there before. Calm down.” You murmured, folding your arms across your chest.

He breathed a dry laugh and shook his head. “Yeah, with me. I almost had a heart attack when Stew called. Half the people in there don’t care who you’ve been in with before or whose girl you are. If you’re alone, you’re available.” Bucky rambled, lighting a cigarette when he stopped at a red light.

“I’m not a piece of property.” You snapped, glaring at him. His expression softening slightly as he reached a hand out towards you, heart dropping when you shifted further away.

“I know that. Some don’t. It’s fucked up how this- community works. I just need you to use that brain of yours before you do things.” He mumbled, rubbing a hand over his scruffy jaw. “How much did you drink?”

“Two.”

Bucky nodded in response at the short answer, stopping in front of the apartment building he’d dropped you off at earlier.

“You gonna get out or am I gonna have to carry you inside.” He urged, gesturing for you to go inside.

“Tempting. But, I’m not going in.” You shrugged, leaning your head back against the headrest.

“Baby, c’mon.” He reached a hand towards you again, resting it on your thigh before you shook him off.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Fine, you’re coming back with me then.” He said, jamming the truck back into gear and pulling away.

“James-”

“You know I hate that. Cut it out.” He said, cutting your protest off.

The short distance between the probate’s apartment and Bucky’s house seemed longer than before. The silence making your head hurt by the time he pulled in his driveway.

Though it didn’t last long. Bucky continuing his ramble of how he wished you hadn’t went to that bar as he tossed his keys on the counter and toed his boots off. Mumbling more to himself than talking to you.

“I’m an adult, James. I think I can handle things on my own. I never asked you to come get me.” You huffed, laying your jacket over the back of the recliner.

“Then act like one!” You didn’t flinch or move away when he yelled, knowing he didn’t mean it to scare you. You just stared up at him, seeing the aggravation that seeped on his features.

“You won’t let me. Always being all- my name’s James Barnes, I’m an old man who can’t let sugar decided what she wants for herself, because I’m scared of commitment.” You mocked, making sure the pet name he’d pinned on you came out more emphasized.

“Real mature.” He nodded, glaring down at you.

“It’s the truth.” You dared, not breaking eye contact with the glowering man.

“I’m not scared of commitment. You just don’t know what you want.”

“I know exactly what I want and have known since last summer.” You snapped. The muscle in his jaw flexing as he glared down at you, taking measured steps closer until you were cornered between him and his front door.

“You do? So- you’ve thought about me bending you over the seat of my bike? About how many different ways I can pull you apart before you’re begging me to stop? … About what would happen if someone took you from me.” There was a new flare in his eyes as he leaned closer. Tip of his nose barely touching yours. “Because, I have. And, I don’t want to be played again.”

You squirmed under his hard stare, chewing the inside of your cheek. “I have…” you spoke quietly, trying to guess what his next move would be before his lips smashed to yours. Warm right hand finding yours to lace you fingers with his and pin it to the wall, pouring every bit of passion into the messy kiss as you melted into him.

“This what you want?” He huffed, hand leaving yours to grip your hips and pull your body impossibly closer. “Want your first time to be me fucking you like some whore? Won’t make any difference to me.”

You couldn’t help the needy whine that poured pass your lips as he sucked a mark into the skin at the base of your neck. Bending down to grasp the backs of your thighs and hoist you to his waist, supporting you with his bionic arm under your ass as warm fingers dug into your cheeks to pull you into another sloppy kiss. Blindly making his way to his bedroom.

Though it took a bit longer for it to click in his mind, Bucky felt that same guilty pang as every other time as he settled between your legs on the mattress.

This wasn’t how he wanted to go about it. No foreplay… No intimacy. It was too fast and harsh.

He hadn’t felt this way about sex before- needing so much connection before he could follow through. He just wanted you to feel safe and sure.

As he started to pull away, your hands held his jaws. Chest heaving as you looked up at him with blown pupils. “Bucky… please- you’re the only one I want it to be.”

He let out a long, slow breath and nodded. Hand slipping down, into the front of your pants to ease a finger into you, groaning at the arousal that had already coated your folds. “This isn’t what I meant-” Bucky cut you off with a brisk kiss and nodded again.

“Gotta warm you up. Don’t wanna hurt you.” He mumbled, cock throbbing against the seam of his pants when you let out a quiet whimper.

“I want you.” You should’ve been embarrassed by how pathetic the whine sounded. But, you had never wanted something so bad before. Never wanted it to the point that it was becoming painful just thinking about how it would feel.

“I know, sugar. I’ll give it to you, be patient.” Bucky assured, finger curling against the spongey spot just inside your cunt as soft moans fell from your lips.

There was a certain thrill to it for Bucky. A thrill from being so wanted by someone who was so perfect to him. And, as he watched your pleasured expressions, he kept telling himself that this time would be different.

This time he could be happy.

So, he took his time. Carefully pulling you apart until he was sure you were properly warmed up. Slowly aiding in discarding your clothes and his own to give plenty of time for you to back out. Your heart hammering against your chest as he positioned himself between your legs again.

Your breath caught in your throat when his swollen head pressed against your cunt, fingers digging into his shoulder blades as he leaned down to pepper kisses along your jaw.

“Breathe, baby. Breathe…” Bucky murmured against your skin, barely pressing forward as you sucked in a sharp breath and squeezed your eyes closed.

You could feel everything. Every ridged inch and vein, every spark of pain and pleasure. His hot breath fanning your shoulder and beard tickling your jaw as he lifted his head to look at you. His thrusts slow and shallow, gradually pushing deeper as quiet whines and whimpers spilled from your lips.

“I’ve got you, sugar. Doin’ so perfect.” Bucky huffed, warm right hand gripping your outer thigh. “You feel like fuckin’ heaven.”

You moaned in response, the sound swallowed in a deep, slow kiss. His tongue swiping over yours and pace picking up as the pain faded away almost completely. Being replaced with pleasure that made your thighs start to quiver.

There was something about the way Bucky treated you that changed your view of intimacy. The way he’d touch and look at you as if you were so fragile and the most perfect thing he’d seen, always making you feel heard in everything he did. But, fuck- nothing compared to this.

Feeling his slick skin against yours, walls stretched tight around him and thick cock sliding against every sweet spot. It made you crave him even more.

Just seeing his pleasure pinched face when he sat up straighter was almost enough to snap the tightening coil. Bucky’s gaze casted down to watch himself disappear into the warmth of your cunt as he hooked his arms under your legs for a better angle to fuck into a rough patch that set off the most heavenly and vulgar sounds from you.

Your fingers twisted in the sheet under you, his thrusts keeping a quick, steady pace that turned your brain to mush. Your body shuddering and back arching as your second orgasm seared through you. This one hitting harder than any you’d experienced before. Walls spasming around him as a string of nearly incoherent profanities rolled off of your tongue.

“There ya go, baby. Feels s’good-“ Bucky groaned, the sound coming from deep in his chest as his pace faltered. Grip on the backs of your thighs tightening as he worked you through the ear ringing high. “Gonna make me come, sweet girl.”

You whimpered, peaking your heavy lids open enough to see his blissed out features. Jaw slack and nose scrunched as he pushed forward once more, grinding into you as thick spurts of his seed coated your walls.

Bucky hissed lightly when he slipped out of you, leaving behind an emptiness that made you whine as you looked at him with glossy eyes. A quiet chuckle rumbling from his chest as he leaned on his palms to press a kiss to your lips.

“You alright?” He asked, nudging his nose to yours.

You nodded, feeling the goosebumps rise on the tattooed skin of his back as your fingertips grazed the smooth skin. “Again?”

“Oh, sugar-” you swallowed hard at the cocky smirk that curled his lips before he dipped his head down, lips brushing along your jaw. “I’m gonna fuckin’ ruin you.”

—————————

Bucky had been awake for hours as you slept soundly next to him. Smoking his way through half a pack of cigarettes as he let guilt take over.

He didn’t feel guilty because he did it- it was because he couldn’t make himself regret it. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get rid of the warm feeling in his chest every time he glanced over at your sleeping figure next to him.

Reaching over to snuff out the cigarette in the ashtray on his nightstand, Bucky felt the bed shift slightly. Looking over to see you turning your head to look over your shoulder at him.

“You okay, Buck?” You mumbled, sleep evident in your voice as you reached a hand back to hold his bare thigh.

“‘M fine, sugar.” He sighed, leaning back against the pillows as you rolled over. Wincing a little from the deep ache that had set in as he lifted his arm to invite you into his side.

“Why’re you still up?” You asked, eyes still closed as you traced the dips and lines of his abdomen. The tattooed lines that were etched into the skin already evident in your memory.

“Just thinkin’, baby. I’m alright.”

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #bucky imagine #bucky barnes smut #biker!bucky #biker!bucky x reader #biker!au #dbf!biker!bucky #dbf!bucky angst #dbf!bucky fluff #dbf!bucky smut #dbf!bucky

[sweet-milky-tea705]

Biker elowen sketch page inspired by the biker au headcanons by @dreams-above-the-clouds (who also made some amazing art) !! the elowen brainrot is coming back hard AKSJJWNS !! And because i always listen to music heres what helped fuel the brainrot😌✨

I think it fits the vibes,,, i need to draw more elowen she is so <3333

#fictif #last legacy #last legacy fictif #art #artists on tumblr #fictif last legacy #my art #fanart #elowen de bhaldraithe #fictif elowen #elowen fictif #last legacy elowen #elowen last legacy #biker!au #last legacy biker au #sketch page #sketches #sketch #pencil drawing #sketchbook #last legacy fanart #sage lesath

[imagines-to-quench-thirst]

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

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

[inkedaztec]

Ideas for upcoming fics for NaNoWriMo. Let me know if you wanna be tagged!

Slightly older Ari (unknown job as of right now) with bookstore owner reader. She's got her store dialed in on the cozy with walls of books, a fireplace, and plenty of chairs. She's in her early-mid twenties.

He's afraid to make a move because she's 10 yrs younger than him, and he doesn't think she'll want to even give him a shot, but what he doesn't know is that she's had a crush on him since she first laid eyes on him, but because she is curvier than the other girls she's seen him with, she doesn't think she's his type.

Sweet chubby baker Bucky and his tattoo shop owning reader. His ex broke his heart when she dumped him because he had gained a few pounds. She's not the usual dam he would have gone for before, and now he doesn't think he's worth anyone's time. But after she becomes friends with Nat and Steve, she's always in his circle. But now she's gotta figure out how to make him not only see he is worthy of love, but that she won't leave him the way his ex did. Especially once her (mentally abusive) ex starts sniffing around trying to get her back.

My RH/poly bikers(might add one more CEvans character, not sure yet)

Curtis, Bucky "Sarge", and Jefferson have been a team serving under Rogers lead since they were kids. Each one is a ladies/men magnet in their own right. But the only love they have truly shade has been with each other. Until the reader walks in with Bucky's sister. Fresh off a messy break up she wasn't looking for love, she wasn't even looking for a good time. But a smoke break during the rain, and a leather jacket are going to change all of that.

More ideas to come!

Tag list: @imaginedreamwrite @jesevans

#bucky barnes x reader #alternate universe #bucky barnes au #ari levinson x reader #biker!au #jefferson x reader #curtis x reader

[galatially]

❝𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐲𝐜𝐥𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐛 ❞

“From womb to tomb, sperm to worm, Howlies ride on.”

𝑠𝑙𝑜𝑤 𝑏𝑢𝑟𝑛

𝑔𝑜𝑙𝑑𝑒𝑛 ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑟

𝑠𝑢𝑚��𝑒𝑟 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟

𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑠𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑚𝑎𝑡𝑒

𝑖 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢, 𝑑𝑜𝑛’𝑡 𝑐𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑚𝑒

#galatially #howlies motorcycle club #howlies motorcycle club series #howlies mc series #howlies mc masterlist #bucky barnes #steve rogers #joaquín torres #thor odinson #sam wilson #biker!au