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holylulusworld · 2 days

Text

Snookums

Summary: Bucky is sad.

Pairing: Biker!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: a little angst, fluff, misunderstandings

A/N: A short drabble.

He’s angry. At the world. At himself. At the fact that you decided to celebrate your birthday with your family and without him.

Bucky paces back and forth. He wonders why you decided that he’s not the kind if man you can introduce to your family.

“Fuck,” he curses and stops in his tracks. He looks at all the picture frames of you and Bucky on the fireplace mantel. “She thinks I’m not good enough. I knew she would realize that she could do better.”

He sighs again and shakes his head. Bucky got you all the nice gifts. He bought scented candles and your favorite flowers. Now you told him that you will go for lunch with your family.

Bucky looks at the newest picture frame you placed on the fireplace mantel. You are sitting on his bike, smirking as he stands behind you, his arms wrapped around your middle. He grabs the frame, staring at the picture again.

He walks toward the couch, the picture frame in his hands. “Doll…” Bucky presses the frame to his heart and sniffs. He knew it was only a matter of time before you’d leave him.

Lost in self-doubts he doesn’t recognize you walk inside his living room.

“There you are,” you place one hand on your heart and sigh, relieved. “Fuck, you scared the shit out of me, Bucky.”

“Doll?” He looks up to meet your eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh-I came here because you didn’t come to the restaurant. I feared you had an accident or something. We waited for you at the restaurant for over an hour.”

“Restaurant?” He slowly gets up from the couch. “But…you wanted to eat with your family. I wasn’t invited.”

“What?” You wrinkle your forehead. “Bucky, I told you about the restaurant and when we will meet. Why didn’t you come?”

“You didn’t invite me,” he sniffs. “I can’t crash a party.”

“Bucky,” your features soften seeing the doubts in his eyes. “You are my boyfriend. There is no need to invite you.”

He looks hurt at your words. “I get it…”

“No, you don’t get it, snookums,” you step toward your boyfriend to grab his hand. “You are always invited because you are my boyfriend. If I say I want to have lunch with my family, this includes you, Bucky.”

“Oh…OH,” he looks at your hand holding his. “I didn’t know.”

“Well, now you know,” you grin at Bucky. “My snookums is always invited.”

Bucky feels his heart flutter. It’s the first time he doubted your feelings for him, and he feared he’d lost you. “What do we do now? Your parents will believe I’m unreliable.”

“I told them that you got sick,” you smile up at Bucky. “We can have dinner with them next week. I want to spend the day with my man.”

“Yeah?” He mirrors your smile.

“Yeah…”

Tags in reblog.

#bucky barnes #biker!bucky barnes #biker!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader #biker au #bucky barnes x y/n #Snookums #biker!bucky x you

154 notes · View notes

marvelstoriesepic · 18 hours

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Breaking chains (3)

Pairing: Biker!Bucky x reader

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

Chapter word count: 6k

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

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

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He doesn’t really come down here.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you would understand.

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

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

You envied it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

“Let me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll walk you.”

You blinked.

Sam blinked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was your turn to nod as an answer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Coming to a slow stop, you turned to him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

His mind remained tethered to thoughts of you.

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

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

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

But Bucky had, and it made him wonder.

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

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

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

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

Until Sam put a stop to it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Always moving.

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

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

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

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

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

His ma had raised him better than that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tag list:

@heletsmelovehim @moonlightreader649 @jbbarnesgirl @differenttyphoonwerewolf

#bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #james buchanan barnes #biker au #biker!bucky #leather biker

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actualbampot · 3 days

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I'm so thirsty for content

#rwby #cinder fall #art by bampot #wip #artists on tumblr #biker au

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blackwhitefeatherart · 5 months

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𓆩🖤𓆪 satosugu biker au 𓆩🖤𓆪🏍

I think they'd be insufferable (lovingly)

..also this is soo self-indulgent if you know me irl you know I love this kind of fashion 🫶

#呪術廻戦 #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk geto #geto suguru #satosugu #gojo satoru #五夏 #gojo #geto #biker au #tattoos #cigarette #smoking

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yakowo · 7 months

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(Biker AU) don't think they heard him at all

#my art #biker au #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #captain john price #poly 141 #cod #mw2

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19silvermirrors · 14 days

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biker!LQG in modern AU be like

#liu qingge #svsss #modern au #biker #scum villain self saving system #biker au #awww #violet

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dumbificat · 5 months

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a little bit older, a black leather jacket…

a wriothesley biker! au oneshot. gn reader, no tws that i can see.

The little bell chimes as you enter the café debord, alerting others of your entrance. you head towards the counter but soon find you might be waiting a while. no problem, you can be in line for a bit. your favourite drink awaits you.

some minutes pass, and the line slowly gets served. you’re now waiting behind just one guy! one really tall guy. you hadn’t realised just how intimidating he seemed from the back. tall, black leather jacket, ripped jeans and boots, messing hair… yet he was ordering lemon tea? that’s surprising.

what was more surprising was the fact that he didn’t have enough money to pay. the worker looked a bit hesitant to say it, but it was true. you peeked your head around the wall of a man in front of you and quietly offered to pay. it was then then you finally managed to catch a glimpse of this guy’s face and. your heart skipped a beat. he was so handsome? [how can someone be this handsome] you find yourself thinking.

“are ya sure? ya don’t mind payin’?” he asked, in a perfectly baritone voice. the smoothness of his words stunned you for a moment, but you soon replied that,

“yes! it’s fine, no problem at all.” he then flashed you a grin that made your heat skip more than a few beats. the worker bought you out of your mini trance by shyly asking for the money, of which you provided. you then politely ordered your regular drink, and decided to treat yourself to a sweet snack as a reward for your good deed.

when you go to fetch your order, you notice the same guy from earlier sitting at a nearby table. he mouths the words “thank you” while holding his drink up, so you nod your head in acknowledgement and offer a small smile. he, in turn, gives you the same heart-stopping grin from back in the line. trying not to get distracted (again), you find a table with your drink and treat in hand.

you take a seat in a quiet part of the café, and start having some quality time with yourself. catching up on social media, reading a few chapters of a book, having some time to think. this day is yours, do with it what you will. despite being occupied, your mind couldn’t help but wander back to that guy. he was so handsome, you couldn’t help it! you look back to the table he was sat at and he was still there. what shocked you though, was that he was already looking at you. you shared surprised looks before smiling at each other once again.

it didn’t take long for you to finish your drink and treat after that, his smile playing on a loop in your mind. you noticed this guy was getting ready to leave just as you were. not wanting to be stunned again, you briskly left the café. you’re about to turn onto another street before you hear someone calling for you:

“hey, wait! you forgot this!” it was hard not to recognise his voice despite only having heard it once. there he was, the mystery guy on a motorcycle slowing down right next to you. he handed you your jacket! in your rush to leave, you must’ve forgotten to pick it up. well that’s embarrassing…

before you could thank him, he sped off, leaving you once again stunned. you sigh, and put the jacket on, instinctively reaching into the pockets. it was there that you found a small note:

xxxx-xxx-xxx

call me! - Wriothesley

thank you so much for reading. comments and reblogs (with tags) are much appreciated （╹◡╹）♡

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beansprean · 2 years

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More bikie au nonsense ❤️

Jim was raised by a pit stop nun to be gods greatest mechanic and avenge the street racing crash that killed their family. Stede keeps track of everyone’s birthdays on a bike sticker. The secret library in his engine has somehow not caught on fire.

Image description under cut!

[ID: Drawing dump of an our flag means death modern bikie au.

1. Ed, with full beard and loose hair in a spiked biker jacket with a kraken patch on the shoulder, crouches next to Stede’s motorcycle, staring with fascination into a secret compartment he just opened. His nails are painted black. Stede, wearing a simple blue button down and gray trousers, is standing behind him with a smile and leaning over to speak. He says, “I had to downsize the engine to make room, but I think it was the right move.” Dazzled by his brilliance, Ed responds, “fucking mental…” Stede’s bike has the shape of a Harley but is clearly custom and painted bright teal. The metal nameplate on the fuel tank dubs it “The Revenge” and the rest is covered in various stickers including one of Mary’s lighthouse, a peace sign, a list of the crew’s birthdays, a smiley face, a pink one that says “I brake 4 birds” and a green one that says “excuse my kiwi attitude.” There is also a pride sticker and a small mountain sticker on the steering fork and a kiwi (the bird) sticker on the right handlebar. Mounted on the headlight is a small wooden unicorn. We can see some stickers on the other side from where Ed has lifted the secret compartment, including a pink heart and a large sticker of a stack of books with a second “ssh!” Speech bubble sticker to the side of it. Each handle has dangling yellow tassels.

2. Ed, mirrored sunglasses pushed to the top of his head, grins excitedly at Karl (a black breasted buzzard) standing on top of Button’s helmeted head. Buttons, in his usual impassive straight-backed manner, tells him, “Karl sends his warm regards.” He is wearing a long-sleeved beige shirt, jeans, gray fingerless gloves, and a denim vest covered in actual buttons of various sizes and colors. His plain gray helmet (no visor) is covered in scratches from Karl’s claws.

3. Jim crouching and looking to the side suspiciously. They are wearing ripped jeans, brown boots, fingerless brown leather gloves, a gold cross necklace, and a grease-stained once-white shirt under a faded blue mechanic’s button-up that says “Jim” on the breast. In the breast pocket is a grease-stained rag, and they are holding a socket wrench like a knife.

4. Ed, wearing Stede’s blue button up, gray trousers, and black tie, is grinning excitedly and dramatically gesturing to Stede with both arms. Stede, sliding into the scene, looks equally excited. He is wearing Ed’s leather pants, fingerless gloves, mirrored sunglasses, and leather jacket zipped up over a bare chest.

5. Izzy, wearing a black tee shirt tucked into jeans, a spiked leather vest, one right glove, black choker, and ring on a necklace, stands angrily with his fists clenched at his side. In his left hand is a knife. His right arm has a rope tattoo wrapped around it that turns into a snake, as well as a cursive “Daddy” on his bicep. His left bicep is wrapped in a bleeding barbed wire tattoo. Someone has put a birthday hat on his head. Teeth clenched around a scowl as confetti rains down on him, Izzy growls, “I fookin hate this.”

/end ID]

#OFMD #our flag means death #blackbonnet #gentlebeard #biker au #Jim OFMD #karl ofmd #nathaniel buttons #Izzy hands #my art #fanart #modern au #karl is a black breasted buzzard!!#bikie au #image described #jim jimenez

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jobean12-blog · 6 months

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All Mine

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader (Biker!Joel AU)

Word Count: 2,064

Summary: You're not a fan of Joel's neighbor and after he hears what happens, he isn't either (not that he ever was).

Author's Note: I was just thinking about how hot Pedro is and especially the idea of Joel as a biker and I missed my biker!Joel so I thought this would be a fun way to revist him! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you sweet Daisy 🥰The edit below was done by my amazing friend Ellie @mrsmischief209 isn't he gorgeous? Thank you beauty! 💕

Warnings: there's some tension at first over the neighbor bc she stinks, but it's soft and sweet and there's fluff and some funny parts and then it gets super se-x-y and sp-i-c-y at the end.

Joel Miller Masterlist

The front door to Joel’s house opens before you even grab the knob.

“Hey there darl…”

You stomp past him with clenched fists and turn with a huff.

He stares at you and takes a tentative step forward, his arms outstretched.

“Your neighbor…” you start before crossing your arms over your chest and mumbling out something he doesn’t quite catch.

“Neighbor?” he asks with raised brows as he steps into your space and pulls you against his chest.

“This isn’t exactly the greeting I was hoping for,” he lightly teases as his head dips and he places a soft kiss just below your ear. “What happened?”

When his lips press to your skin you melt into his embrace, your whole body going pliant until you’re curled around him. His lips trail along your throat then ghost across your lips as he takes your face in his hand and forces you to look at him.

“Your neighbor needs to take a hint Joel!”

“What neighbor and what do you mean?” His expression hardens and you can feel his muscles tense. “Are you ok?”

You start to get wound up again and wiggle in his grasp but he doesn’t let go. He leads you to the couch and sits, taking you with him and placing you on his lap.

He waits as patiently as he can until you’re ready to talk, his fingers gentle along your skin as he rubs your back.

“She was outside when I pulled up and as soon as I got out of the car she scoffed. I mean who scoffs so loud someone can hear them from across the yard!?!”

Joel’s brow furrows in confusion as he continues to listen.

“On this side?” he asks, pointing to the left of his house.

You nod before you go on.

“Then, being the nice person I am,” you say as if it’s so obvious, “I said hello and asked how she was.”

He smiles reassuringly before giving your cheek a kiss.

“Do you know what she said to me?”

You huff out the words and your face scrunches up in anger.

“What darlin’?” he growls out. “Tell me before I go over there and find out myself.”

“You can relax…it wasn’t that bad.”

He looks at you expectantly.

“She said…and I quote, ‘oh, it’s you. I can’t believe you’re still around. Thought he would have been through with you a long time ago.’ Then she looks me up and down like I’m a piece of poo!”

“Poo?” he repeats and the corner of his mouth twitches with a smile even though his muscles are still taut.

“Don’t you dare laugh! THIS IS NO LAUGHING MATTER! THAT BITCH WANTS MY MAN!”

“What?” he says, making a disgruntled face.

“She totally wants you and she’s acting like if she gets rid of me you’ll be all hers!”

“What?” he says again, tightening his hold on you.

“What do you mean WHAT?” you screech. “You heard me! UGH! The audacity!”

“What’s her name again?” Joel asks.

You spit out her name.

“Oh right,” Joel says dismissively. “Who cares darlin.’ I’ve never looked her way. Not even once. And I never will.”

You study his face, his eyes full of sincerity, and soften against him.

“I know,” you whisper. “But it wasn’t nice and I don’t want her trying to seduce you or something when I’m not here.”

You bury your face in his neck and hide.

He starts to shake with laughter and when you peek up at him his eyes are crinkled and he’s wearing a wide grin.

“That’s ridiculous!” he says between laughs.

He softens when he sees you’re worried expression, his large hand lifting to cup your cheek.

“Darlin’,’ he murmurs. “No one could ever take me away from you.”

“And you’re right it wasn’t nice. Honestly, I have a mind to go over there and tell her to fuck off.”

“God I wish you could,” you huff.

“Why the hell can’t I?” he asks.

“Because…it might make her try harder.”

“That makes no sense.”

You pat his chest. “I know but trust me.”

He presses a calloused fingertip under your chin and keeps your eyes on his when he asks, “then how can I make his better darlin’?”

“Stop being so hot?” you pout with a small shrug.

His head falls toward his chest and he chuckles.

“Darlin’…”

You hop off his lap, evading his grabby hands until you’re standing between his spread legs. You look him over.

“For one…stop sitting like that.”

“Like what?” he asks and looks down at himself.

“Like that!” you say with a stomp of your foot. “You’re manspreading so bad you’re practically taking up the whole couch and those legs!”

“I’m comfortable,” he says defensively. “Besides…what do you want me to do with this thing.”

He points between his legs with a playful smirk.

“JOEL!!!!!!!!!!” you whine. “That’s exactly my point. She’s probably daydreams about how big it is!”

His eyes go wide and he shifts uncomfortably.

“You should probably stop wearing such tight jeans too.”

“I’m not changing my wardrobe for nobody! Like I said, she can fuck off.”

“Ughhhh,” you sigh as you fall dramatically onto the couch. “Forget it. Even if you wore a bag you’d be hot. It’s no use.”

“You should talk,” he says as he grabs your ankles and pulls you down flat.

He positions himself above you, caging you in with his arms. “You’re the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

You smile and play with the fabric of his shirt. “But the neighbor doesn’t give two shits about me. She likes you.”

“These arms,” you sigh dreamily and lightly scrape your fingertips along his biceps. “The tattoos…”

You emphasize the last word with a poke to his solid chest and his smile grows. Your fingers comb through the hair lining his jaw before they slide between the soft strands on his head.

“You know she probably goes nuts over your bike too,” you state with a roll of your eyes.

He presses into you, letting just enough of his weight settle on top of you so you can feel every inch of him.

“Pretty sure you went nuts over my bike…”

“Well YEAH. Of course I did,” you say, your expression full of ‘duh.’ “You…on that bike…pretty irresistible.”

He winks down at you, leaning closer until his lips are just a breath away.

“You…bent over my bike…that’s irresistible.”

You giggle and give his hair a tug, pulling his lips to yours.

“You wanna come help me?” Joel asks as he ties up his boots.

For a brief moment you just watch him, taking in his dark jeans pulled tightly across his thick thighs and his muscled forearms flexing with every movement he makes.

“I’m not letting you out of my sight,” you state decisively and lift your chin.

He gives you a lopsided smirk as he stands and takes your hand. “Good.”

He holds the door open for you and ushers you outside, stopping at his pickup truck to grab his tool box before he carries it to his bike that’s parked further down the driveway.

The neighborhood is quiet and when you peek over to the house next door it looks dark.

“She better not show up,” you mutter to yourself.

“What was that darlin’?” Joel asks, as he kneels to search for a tool.

“Hmm? Oh nothing,” you say and wave him off. “How can I help?”

As Joel’s kneeling down on one side of the bike and you’re on the other, hidden by the large machine, you hear a voice that makes you cringe.

“Oh Joel! There you are! I was hoping you could help me with something.”

You go still and wait. You can hear Joel’s sigh and see him stand and turn to your favorite neighbor.

“Hey,” he says blankly.

She smiles brightly and holds out a jar. “I just can’t seem to get this jar open for anything and I knew you’d be just the guy to ask…and here you are!”

She bats her lashes and steps closer to him. He quickly shoots his hand out and grabs the jar, effectively stopping her advance.

He takes it between his hands and twists the top once, easily popping it off.

“There ya go,” he says and hands it back to her.

She stands at stares at him in awe. “Oh wow. Thank you! You made that look so easy. You must have very…”

That’s as much as you can bear and you stand abruptly, causing Joel’s bike to wobble. The neighbor startles at your sudden appearance and her face goes sour.

“Oh yes,” you start with a saccharine smile. “His hands. They’re so big and strong and he knows just how to use them.”

Joel chokes out a cough to stifle his laughter and turns your way, winking knowingly. The neighbor drags her eyes away from you with a roll and pins them back on Joel, letting her gaze move down his body with appreciation.

“I love your bike,” she says to him.

You saunter over and stand next to Joel. He winds his arm around your waist and tucks you into his side.

“Beautiful, isn’t it,” you agree. “And the ride is even better.”

You lean into Joel and slip your hand inside his leather jacket. The way you emphasize the word ‘ride’ doesn’t go unnoticed and his fingers dig into your skin.

The neighbor ignores you completely and asks Joel, “is something wrong with it? I see you have all your tools out.”

“No,” he replies. “Just doing a tune up before we leave.”

With those words he releases you with a kiss and goes back to work.

“We’re going on an overnight trip,” you explain.

She gives you a look that screams, ‘I didn’t ask you.’ You go on anyway.

“We’re going to sleep out under the stars. It’ll be chilly at night…but Joel knows how to keep me warm.”

You giggle with your last words and lift your shoulders sweetly. The neighbors face scrunches up in anger.

“Alright darlin.’ Everything looks good. Let’s go.”

You twinkle your fingers at the neighbor and wait as Joel puts the helmet over your head and secures the strap. He then takes off his leather jacket and puts it on you, zipping it up to your chin. You snuggle into it with a big inhale and say, “smells so good.”

The neighbor face gets even more sour but both you and Joel ignore her and hop on the bike. He revs the engine a few times before taking off down the road in a blur.

Once Joel reaches your destination he pulls over and moves deeper onto the soft dirt before stopping. He holds the motorcycle steady as you climb off and start to remove the helmet.

His hands settle on your waist and he looks you over.

“How’re you doin’ darlin’?”

“Better,” you whisper. “She got the hint. And I think I’m really starting to understand why riding is so enjoyable.”

He chuckles and raises his brows questioningly.

“The speed, the wind against your skin, your body pressed to mine…all the vibrations.”

With those few words Joel’s entire focus shifts and his voice drops when he asks, “you like that?”

“Mm hm. I love it.”

“Darlin’,” he murmurs.

He closes the space between you, kissing you hard and grabbing your ass. He kneads your flesh and you arch into his touch. He doesn’t stop and gives your ass cheek a hard slap.

“Ohhh,” you moan. “Was that because of what I said earlier?”

“I liked everything you said. Now how about you turn around and bend over my bike darlin.”

Even as he says it he doesn’t wait for you to do it and spins you himself, pressing gently until your resting on the seat. He runs his hands down your back, reaching the waistband of your jeans. His hard cock grinds against you and you hiss in pleasure.

He leans over you, pressing a line of soft kisses down your neck while he makes quick work of your jeans, helping you wiggle out of them until they lock at your feet. His rough fingertips caress your newly exposed skin and he hums in appreciation before dropping to his knees.

“Look at you,” he murmurs. “Fuck darlin.’ I can’t wait to taste you.”

@hiddles-rose @littleseasiren @lorilane33 @blackwidownat2814 @kmc1989 @lizette50

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #biker!joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #biker!joel miller x reader #biker au #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader

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fenrir-flamekeeper · 8 months

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here they are

the biker boys i promised

[ID: fully rendered digital half body drawing of Geralt and Jaskier from Witcher Netflix as bikers, kissing. Jaskier has long open hair and a full beard. He is wearing a leather jacket under a leather vest with part of a backpatch showing. His right hand is resting on Geralt's chest. Geralt is wearing his hair in the usual half updo, and his chin and cheeks are covered in stubble. He is wearing a dark grey, sleeveless shirt with a small logo of three black wolf heads, the writing above reading "white wolves", the writing below "Kaer Morhen". He is wearing his wolf amulet and his visible arm is covered in tattoos of a wolf, a griffin, and a skull with mushrooms, fern and oak leaves. He is gripping Jaskier by the side of his vest. They have strands of each other's hair braided into their own. ID end.]

#digital art #my art #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #geralt x jaskier #witcher #witcher netflix #biker AU #biker boys #image described

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holylulusworld · 24 hours

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Roar & Giggle (6) - Back of his bike

Summary: He’s just the worst. Right?

Pairing: Biker!Bucky Barnes x Bookstoreowner!Reader

Warnings: love-struck Bucky, fluff

Roar & Giggle masterlist

Roar & Giggle (5)

You and Bucky want to take things slow. Little kisses here and soft touches there - and lots of cuddling. He tries to be a gentleman, while his cat is less subtle.

Alpine demands your full attention whenever you are around. He’s a cocky little furball. Just like his owner.

“Alpine, don’t,” Bucky warns. The white furball jumped onto your lap the moment you sat down on the sofa at Bucky’s small office in the back of his shop. “That’s not your girlfriend!”

Your heart flutters at Bucky’s words. He called you his girlfriend, without realizing how much this means to you. “It’s fine,” you say, instead of jumping at Bucky to pepper kisses all over his face. “He just likes me, is all.”

“Oh,” Bucky steps closer to look his cat in your lap. “I like you too. Can I sleep in your lap too?” He grins when you giggle.

“If you play your cards right, Mr. Barnes,” you wink at Bucky. He chuckles and turns his attention back toward his paperwork, “You can always rest your head in my lap.”

“I’ll bribe you,” he grins. “How about I invite you for homemade dinner, ice cream, and a movie night.”

“This sounds great,” you say while watching Alpine get comfortable in your lap. He meows and rubs his face in your tummy. “Aw, you sweet boy. Look at you.” You coo, earning a grunt from Bucky.

“Punk, that’s my girl,” Bucky points to Alpine in your lap. “If you try to kiss her, we are no longer friends. Know your place.”

You pat the cat’s head. “Alpine, don’t listen to Bucky. Your daddy loves you too much. He’d never give up on you. Do you remember when he was searching for you? He was out of his mind and so worried.”

Alpine meows, as if the cat understood your words.

“Not cool, doll,” Bucky huffs. “Do you love the cat more than me?” His eyes widen, and he gasps audibly. “I-I mean…”

You look at Bucky, smiling softly because he’s nervous as hell. The usually cocky and a little grumpy biker suddenly looks like a scared child.

“I like you a lot,” you hastily say to calm him. “Maybe even more. I haven’t decided yet.” You grin. “Your cat is a plus. Maybe I’ll stick around for the cute furball.”

Bucky cocks a brow. He searches your face, hums, and crosses his arms over his chest. “How about I lay it on thick and take you for a ride.”

“A ride on your bike?” you gasp. So far you weren’t brave enough to drive on Bucky’s bike. “I never rode a bike before.”

“You wouldn’t ride it, doll,” he grins. “You’d be my sweet passenger, and I’d take you for a ride.”

“Hmm…” you nod slowly. “Are you a careful driver? I don’t like people ignoring the speed limit. I don’t wanna end up as a roadkill.”

“I’ll be careful. Promised, Y/N.”

Smiling you look at Bucky. He expectantly looks at you, waiting for an answer. “I trust you Bucky. I’d be happy being your passenger.”

It feels like flying.

Bucky keeps his promise and drives carefully, but your heart beats so fast you might pass out. Not because he drives too fast, but because being on the back of his bike, your arms wrapped tightly around him feels so intimate.

He drove out of town with you, only stopping when the wind got colder, and it started to rain. Now you are hiding in an old barn, rubbing your cold arms while you wait for the rain to stop.

“This was so cool,” your teeth chatter, but you excitedly look at his bike. “If only the weather was better. We could’ve driven to the end of the world.”

He chuckles at your enthusiasm. “We will drive for longer next time. Promised.” Bucky strips off his leather jacket to give it to you. “Here, it will keep you warm.”

You already feel warm when he helps you put his jacket on. It smells like him, and his warmth still clings to it. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, doll,” he runs his hands up and down your arms. “After the rain, we will drive back home and I’ll make you dinner.”

“Bucky?”

“Yeah?” He murmurs. “What is it?”

“I love you,” you say before you can chicken out. “For a while…”

Bucky drops his hands from your arms to cup your face. “I love you too, Y/N.”

The End...

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #biker!bucky barnes x reader #biker au #biker!bucky #bucky barnes fluff #Roar & Giggle (6) - Back of his bike

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bunnys-kisses · 6 days

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okay, okay, okay! i know we're still on the jailhouse rock au (we will come back to this), but in the process of staring at simon's tattoos i came up with another idea.

it's the classic biker au, you met him after you cursed at him for running a red light and almost running you over. while at the time time you thought nothing of it, you see his bike in the parking lot of a grocery store and reminded of what almost happened, you take your keys and key the side of his bike.

but as you were going to put you key away, you were met face to face with the six foot two behemoth that was simon riley. the lower half of his face was obscured because of a face mask, but the sternness in his eyes made cold sweat go down your back.

"whatcha doin' there, girlie?"

you frowned at him before you said, "you almost ran me over a few days ago mister motorcyclist. you should be watching where you're driving, people use the streets too." you stood up a little straighter. it wasn't your finest moment, keying a strangers car, but the fear that raced through you when he ran that red was still fresh in your mind.

"well then." he said, then looked to his bike, "i guess i should apologize." he leaned in close to your personal space and said, "i'm sorry, but you have to look both ways, little girl." then ruffled your hair.

you felt rage build up inside of you. you actually stomped on his foot to get him away from you before you walked away. you refused to be talk down to like a little girl. this wouldn't be the last you saw of simon.

a few months later, your older neighbour was moving out to live in a long term care facility after she had a pretty bad tumble. but on moving day, you weren't expecting to see heavily tattooed men with amazing body strength move boxes into the apartment. and then you saw simon again.

he recognized you and smiled under his face mask, "well. if it isn't the girl who keyed my bike."

"well, if it isn't the man who tried to kill me." you replied. you would've never guessed that you'd soon up in simon's bed with him holding your legs open as he thrusted up inside of you.

"that's a good girl, we could've done this instead of you ruinin' my bike." he purred as he gripped your thighs. the muscle under his palms riled him up.

"shut up and fuck me you idiot." you groaned as you clutched onto the pillow under your head. your heart was racing as you felt his cock deep inside of you. you wanted to wipe that stupid smirk off his face, but you were too busy feeling his cock in your throat.

"anything for you, love. you just lie there and let me take care of everything." he chuckled lowly.

eventually you two would make amends, even become lovers. one day you'd be mrs. simon riley. but not at that moment, at that moment you wanted to make sure that he didn't feel like he won this battle. <3

thoughts? feelings? want more?