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[artificial-red-head]

Hell Bent For Leather Part 3

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader, Minor Steve Rogers X Natasha Romanov

Summary: Bucky talks to you again to convince you to come back the the clubhouse. But can you trust him?

Tags/Warnings: Biker AU, Paste Abusive Relationships, Dialogue Heavy

A/N: I'm not dead. I did finish this at 3 AM so I make no promises on how good this is.

Chapter 3: All await, engine is ticking over

Bucky had another talk with Steve and Natasha in the morning. After talking with Nat about her possibly still alive, long-lost sister, she finally gave them a name.  

Y/N. 

The name replayed in his head. He remembers a couple of months prior to him leaving Hydra that Rumlow was throwing that name around. Back then, Bucky did not care about whatever woman Brock was trying to pursue, but now he wished he would have done something. Anything to prevent this mess of a situation from happening. 

He wishes he would have shot Rumlow right between the eyes the night that he left. 

Both Steve and Bucky agreed that if the woman from the diner was who they thought she was, then Bucky would take her to the clubhouse–if he could convince her. If she were anything like Natasha then she was definitely stubborn, but that was not going to stop him. 

Bucky went back to the Maximoffs first, not wanting to go all the way past the motel to the diner if you were not there. 

Pietro sat behind the front desk with his feet raised on the desk and flipping a butterfly knife around only stopping when he saw Bucky. He was more than willing to tell him that you had gone to the diner early that morning and were not going to be back until dark. 

Bucky was not a patient man–something his ma told him quite often–and was not going to wait until you got back. He needed to talk to you now.   

Under any other circumstances, he would have not been this terrified to talk to a woman. James Buchanan Barnes was a smooth talker and could get his way with just about any woman, and damn did he know it. But the more he thought about the situation the more freaked out he was, not even the rumbling of the engine in his motorcycle was enough to calm his nerves. 

He sat in the little parking lot in front of the diner for a couple of minutes, mauling over his thoughts. 

How would you react? 

Was this a good idea? 

Could he convince you? 

After convincing himself that he could convince almost any woman to do just about anything he wanted–jesus, he sounded like a man whore–he finally got off his bike and went into the diner before he could psych himself out.   

Upon entering the door he noticed that you now had a name tag attached to the little retro dress that you had been wearing, neither of which he had not noticed before. He stepped closer to read the name tag. 

Y/N. 

It could not have been a fucking coincidence he told himself. 

He needed to talk to you now but from the way that you were avoiding him, he knew that you definitely did not want to talk to him. Instead of waiting for you to come to him, he sat down at one of the booths in your area, keeping his eyes down on the table until you had to come up to him.

“Why are you here?” You asked him harshly and in a lowered tone. 

“I needed to talk to ya.” 

You furrowed your eyebrows, “I don’t even know you.” 

He took a deep breath, “I’m Bucky Barnes of the Howling Commandos Motorcycle Club.” 

Your eyes widened a bit at his name. You looked back at the kitchen before placing your hands down on the table and leaning over, “I'm on the clock.” 

“Fine, then I would like a coffee.” 

You left his table and returned with a mug and a pot of coffee–who knows how long ago it brewed–and started pouring slowly. Bucky took this as his sign to talk. “Look, I got an offer for you.” 

You looked up from the coffee pot with a look in your eyes that he could not pinpoint, uncertainty maybe, but he continued, “You don't have to take it, but I think it will be better than your situation here. The club owns a bar in the next town over and we’re understaffed. You’ll be paid a hell of a lot better there and we can offer you a room at the clubhouse.”  

He could see the panic on your face as soon as he mentioned the clubhouse. You placed the coffee pot roughly on the table, for a moment he thought that it would break. “I don't want a room in the clubhouse.” You stated. 

“Sit down,” Bucky whispered. This was not going how he planned. “Please.”

You looked back at the kitchen again before deciding to sit down across from him. 

“You were a part of Hydra.” He stated bluntly. 

“How did-” 

He cut you off, “It doesn't matter how I know. You're far enough out to be safe but take the job at the bar and me and my club will protect you.”

There was nervousness in your eyes as you scanned the restaurant. “No, no more clubs.” You said still not looking at him.

Bucky snapped his fingers in front of you on the table to get your attention. “Look at me, sweetheart. We’re nothing like those sick bastards, I know of the horrors that happened there because I’ve also witnessed it first hand. I’m sure you’ve heard of the Howling Commandos from someone or other that strayed from Hydra.” His voice lowered even more when he mentioned Hydra.

He took a deep breath, “If you don’t want the job that’s fine, at least come with me to our territory, you’ll have plenty of job options and I can keep an eye on ya. Please.” 

You looked away from him again as you thought about it. He knew what he was saying was a lot to take in at once considering you had just recently left Hydra territory. But he was trying his hardest to convince you that you would be safer with them. 

“I’ll take it.” You said, making eye contact with him but there was still nervousness in your voice. 

Bucky looked you gently in the eyes and said in all sincerity, “I promise you doll, nothin’ gonna happen to you.”

Before Bucky left the diner he told you that he would meet you at the Maximoff’s after you got off of work before he took you back to the clubhouse. You had asked him how he knew that you were there and he explained to you that they were technically their territory since they were under the Camandos’ protection. And he also mentioned that Pietro had called and said that there was a possible gang member in the area. You had just huffed a small laugh at him and told him to leave before he could have gotten you into trouble. 

Bucky had called from the Maximoff’s phone to tell Steve that he was successful and would be bringing you back in a couple of hours. 

“Where was she?” Steve had asked. 

“Working down at Peggy's old place and stayin' at the Maximoffs.” 

“Sharon owns it now, doesn’t she?” Bucky could hear his sigh from the other end of the line.

“Yeah, and you should go talk to her and tell her that we just snatched one of her waitresses.” 

Steve scoffed out a laugh, “And ya couldn’t have done it while you were there?”

“I was too busy trying to convince this poor girl that she should come with me to the clubhouse. She was scared out of her mind and probably thought that I was gonna bring her back to that hell hole for steppin’ in our territory.” 

Steve ended up hanging up on him after he mentioned that he should have gone to see Sharon a long time ago. Better two years late than never. Steve had scoffed at him again and told him to mind his damn business. 

He was sitting in the motel lobby looking at a magazine when you came back. He told you to change your clothes and pack up and he would tell Pietro and Wanda that he was getting you out of their hair. You ended up rolling your eyes at him when you thought that he was no longer looking at you. 

Wanda had asked him if that was Natasha’s sister after you left. He questioned the woman and she had just told him that it was intuition. Bucky called her a witch and she shrugged her shoulders and smiled. 

You came back to the lobby about fifteen minutes later with wet hair and a small bag. Bucky raised an eye at you before remembering that you were quite literally on the run from Hydra.

He told you to follow behind him on the way to the clubhouse. By now the sun was setting and the look on your face before they had rolled out of the parking lot he could tell that you were tired. Tired of working a double shift or tired of being on the road, he was unsure. 

You followed quietly behind him, Bucky had to look back every once in a while to make sure that you were still there. He had made it this far and he did not want to lose you now that he was so close. 

By the time you had both made it back to the clubhouse, he could tell that you were barely awake. He offered to take your bag and you did not even put up a fight, just nodded your head and held it out for him. 

You followed him into the clubhouse, waking up slightly from the lights and looking around.

He saw the look in your eyes the exact moment you saw her. Your eyes had started to water. 

“Natalia?”

Taglist: @vicmc624 @emmabarnes

[artificial-red-head]

Hell Bent For Leather Part 2

Masterlist

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader, Minor Steve Rogers X Natasha Romanov

Summary: Bucky goes back to the club to have a conversation with Steve. They have some interesting revelations.

Tags/Warnings: Biker AU, Paste Abusive Relationships, Dialogue Heavy

A/N: I did very little research about motorcycle clubs, and most of my knowledge came from other fics. This is definitely inaccurate but we're just going to roll with it. I also make no promises on when I'll update. Also someone asked to be added to the tag list but I forgot who is was.

Chapter 2: Never knowing when he'll appear

There was something about your tone that made him think of Natasha. The way how your voice lowered and was laced was anger when you talked about what your previous club had done to you sounded just like Nat when she had threatened him over something with Hydra–but that is a whole other story. 

The words kidnapping me and killing my sister played on repeat in his head. 

Kidnapping me and killing my sister.

Kidnapping me. 

Killing my sister.

Fuck. 

It made him think. 

He thought about Hydra. 

And then Natasha. 

He knew Nat’s brief past with them and she knew his; their time with Hydra only overlapped for about a year before he left. He knew about her adoptive sister when Nat reached out to him while she was stuck with Hydra. The club was all aware of the accident that happened when Natasha left Hydra. 

She had gotten a little too drunk and let a couple of tears slip. Natasha hardly ever cried, and if she was it was not a good sign. The moment Steve asked her what was wrong, she broke down and cried harder. All the details of what had happened with Hydra were told to the club. The things that they made her do. Her sister's relationship with Brock and what had caused her to reach out to him in the first place. The worse part was what had happened the night that they left. 

What happened to Natasha and her sister was nothing like what he and the others endured. 

He had only been able to escape a few years before with Steve and a few other men. They fought their way out after months of planning. They had started their own club and built it from the ground up in a few short but hard worked years. 

Pietro had phoned Steve late a couple of nights before, telling him that someone had rolled into the motel parking lot on their motorcycle. Not specifying if it was a man or a woman. Steve asked him to check it out since he was dealing with other matters. He was happy to, he was itching for a fight and Steve knew it. 

What Bucky was expecting was a burly man, maybe a rival club member, but he was not expecting a woman. Much less a woman with such a temper that could rival his. 

He had forgotten to ask your name during the encounter. He was too angry and distracted by the fact that someone in the town next to their territory was riding around on a motorcycle. 

He was just maybe also distracted by you and the way you talked back to him. 

Okay, he was distracted by you. But it was not a problem. 

Maybe he did have a problem. 

Okay, maybe a few. 

Bucky was well aware of Steve’s eyes on him the moment he stepped into the bar. He knew he was waiting for a report on who was in town. 

Instead, Bucky went behind the bar and filled up a glass, threw it back, and filled it up again. 

“Uh, Mr. Barnes?” 

Bucky turned. Peter, one of the club’s bartenders, had been standing behind the bar beside him. 

Peter was a timid boy and too smart for his own good. He had fallen into the possession of a motorcycle when his uncle had died, along with the duty of taking care of his aunt. He was a good kid and too awfully young to be messing around with the club. 

But Peter had debts to pay–another thing passed on from his uncle–so the club kept him around. 

“What, Kid?” 

“I- uh,” Peter made eye contact with him for a second and then looked away. “Mr. Rogers would like to speak to you, sir.” 

Bucky took another sip as he rolled his eyes. He planned on ignoring Steve for a little bit longer but the Kid just had to be a goody-two-shoes. 

Fucking kiss ass. 

He made his way over to Steve and brought his glass along with him. He pulled up a chair to where he was and sat down without saying a word. He was not going to lose to Steve. 

Steve gave him a look. He was going to lose to Steve. 

“I’m gonna say somethin’ crazy, but you gotta hear me out.” Bucky started. 

Steve remained silent. He put the glass that Bucky had brought over to his lips and took a long drink and he waited for Bucky to go on. 

“I think the girl is Nat’s sister.” 

That had got a reaction out of him. He spat out the drink and slammed the glass on the table. He sputtered for a moment. “What? Wait, wait, wait. Backtrack will ya?”

“It was a woman. I went down to the motel and Wanda told me that they were workin’ down at the diner on the other side of the line. Didn’t tell me it was a woman who came in.” Bucky leaned back in his seat and looked at his now empty glass. “So when I went to the diner, I went in there expecting a man. I asked whose bike was outside and she said it was hers.”

“So what does that have to do with ya thinkin’ she’s related to Nat?” Steve counters. 

Bucky sighs, “I’m gettin’ there. I started asking her questions and I ask her if she was part of a club. She told me ‘not anymore’ so I asked her why’s that and she said that they kidnapped her and killed her sister.” 

He debated on telling Steve that it was her anger that reminded him of Nat. But it was not the best thing they could go off of. Natasha never told anyone in the club her sister's name. It made him wonder if it was on purpose or if it just never came up.

“Did she say it was Hydra?” Steve huffed. 

“No, but who the fuck else would it be, man? Where else would she come from?” 

Bucky placed his hands on the table and mapped out lines with his fingers. “If you take the road that the Maximoffs are on and keep going you’ll end up in Hydra territory in…” He took a moment to think back to when they left, “About a day.”

Steve brought a hand up to his chin and rubbed the light scruff that was starting to grow out again. He sighed, “Did she say anything else about her old club?” 

“No, but think about it. Nat said that Rumlow shot at them a couple of times before they swerved. When she woke up she was gone and there was blood stained on the road. If Hydra took her back they most likely would have told her that Nat was dead so that she wouldn't try to run away.” Bucky winced as he brought up Natasha’s past. 

Everyone at the club hated bringing up bad memories. Especially Hydra related ones. No one had a good memory that pertained to that place. The clubhouse was always a mess, the men there lived and acted like pigs. The women were treated like shit and he had witnessed it firsthand too many times. 

Steve stared up at the ceiling, something that he would do when he was not sure what to do in a situation. “Shit. What was her name? We gotta ask Nat her sister’s name.” 

Bucky stayed quiet. He did not know her name and Steve was going to have his ass for it. The said man lowered his head down to make eye contact with Bucky who tried to look everywhere minus Steve. 

“You didn’t get her fucking name?!” Steve stood up from his chair and started to walk to the back room. Bucky got up and followed behind him. 

“I was distracted by the fact that it was a woman!”

That probably was not the best thing to say. 

“Wow, Bucky.” Steve said exasperated. 

He stared at himself in the mirror. His chestnut hair was still wet on his shoulders, curling up on the ends as it dried. 

He stared at his arm. 

The scars. 

The scars were the only thing that was left behind from Hydra. Hydra was great at covering up their tracks, no matter what it was. They could torture a person to near death without leaving a visible mark. 

But not this time. 

They left their mark on Bucky to remind him that he belonged to them. 

But he did not belong to them. He belonged to Howling Commandos. With Steve Rogers, Timothy “Dum Dum” Dugan, Jim Morita, James Falsworth, and the others. 

He was not Hydra's. 

He stared at his arm again, but this time he looked at the ink that swirled around his scars. 

Bucky had been so thankful when Tony had joined the club. His talent with a tattoo gun was unmatched by anyone else who had put ink on his body. 

The geometric designs and the mandalas hid his scars well, but some areas were impossible to cover. And those were the scars that he hated the most. The scars that Hydra had given him when he first disobeyed them. A warning to never disobey again. 

Tony’s parents were also victims of Hydra. 

Bucky sighed and forced himself to look away. 

[artificial-red-head]

Hell Bent For Leather Masterlist

Bucky Barnes X Fem!Reader, Biker Au

Started: May 14, 2023

Last Updated : August 31, 2023

Chapter 1: Seek him here, seek him on the highway

Chapter 2: Never knowing when he'll appear

Chapter 3: All await, engine ticking over

[artificial-red-head]

Hell Bent For Leather Part 1

Masterlist

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader, Minor Steve Rogers X Natasha Romanov

Summary: You're on the run from your old motorcycle club and abusive ex-boyfriend. You run into a man with the most beautiful blue eyes who somehow finds out who you're running from. He offers you protection and reunites you with someone who you thought was dead.

Tags/Warnings: Biker AU, Paste Abusive Relationships, Dialogue Heavy, Brock Rumlow is a dick

A/N: There is little reader descriptions--only things mentioned is that reader is smaller than Bucky and has hair long enough to braid and be put in a ponytail. Tittle and chapter titles come from the song Hell Bent For Leather by Judas Priest.

Chapter 1:  Seek him here, seek him on the highway

You had ridden out of there as fast as your motorcycle could take you in the early hours of the morning, unsure where the roads would take you. How could you know? You were never allowed off of the property of the clubhouse unless it was for work or if he was with you. After months of slowly saving up money from your job, you had enough to finally get out.  

Two years. Two long years you had been in that damned club. 

Two years since you had lost the only family you had left. 

The road seemed to have stretched on for miles. You wanted to get out of the territory of the club and at least a few towns over. But you needed to stop, you were getting tired. The sun was beginning to set.  

The sun had gone down when you had finally found a place to stay. An old motel right off the road right before an intersection. The sign by the road read ‘Maximoff’s Motel’ in big red painted letters. The open sign out front had flickered slightly as you pulled into the nearly empty parking lot. 

The boy behind the counter eyed you suspiciously. He looked you up and down a few times. You eyed him back. He was small but lean; his bleached hair looked almost silver under the lights. He looked young, too young to be running a motel alone late at night. 

 “How can I help you, ma’am?” He finally spoke after looking at you so intensely. 

His Eastern European accent shocked you a bit. You were used to the country and southern accents and the dialog that came from your old club that made you think that they were uneducated. Most of them probably were. 

“One room, just for the night,” Your voice came out harsh from not speeching all day. You grunted a ‘please’ at the end. 

He asked if you wanted a single or double bed, to which you replied with single. Your voice still sounded harsh as if you were crying. Which you had been hours ago when you first left. 

He handed you a room key after you paid him for the night. You thanked him and he nodded in reply. He was pressing numbers on an old telephone as soon as you turned around to find your room.  

You were unable to sleep. The fear of him finding you and dragging you back prevented you from sleeping for more than about three hours. 

He would not have noticed that you were gone until he got back from work a little after 4 PM. Even then, he usually did not come to find you until later in the night when he wanted physical intimacy from you. Only then would he notice that your motorcycle was gone. That had given you enough time after he left in the morning to get as far as possible without leaving any clues in which direction you had gone in. 

He would not send the entire gang to go find you. He would have done it himself. But he only had so much time outside of the club.  

You finally turned over to look at the time on the analog clock after refusing to look when you first awoke. 5:47 AM. After groaning and changing into the only other change of clothes you brought, you left to go back to the check-in. 

 There was someone else behind the counter this time. A young woman with auburn hair now sat in the boy's place. She looked roughly the same age as the boy, maybe younger. She looked more lively than the boy looked last night. You did not blame him though considering how late it was. 

She greeted you with a friendly hello in the same Eastern European accent and asked if you needed anything. You asked for another night in your room, in which she happily allowed after you placed the cash on the counter. After some hesitation, you asked her where the nearest town was to find a job. 

You must have caught her by surprise because she blinked a few times before answering, “Turn left at the intersection. There’s a small town about 5 minutes down the road. The diner is still requesting help.” 

You thanked her kindly. Her face seemed to have softened before replying with a you’re welcome and a sweet smile.

True to the young woman’s words the diner had been looking for hires. The older waitress who you had talked to looked wearily at you. Everyone in the diner had seen you roll in on your motorcycle. Hell, the entire town had seen you come in. 

You must have looked desperate because the woman had given you the job and uniform and asked you to come in the next day. 

You were unable to sleep again that night. Whether it was the jitters to have to start a new job or the fact that he could have caught up to you by now, you were unsure. 

The clock beside you told you that it was a little after five in the morning. You were not going to get any more sleep and you had to be at the diner at six. 

You relished under the hot water in the shower for a long time. The water at the clubhouse was always cold and the men never seemed to have minded. You never had time to enjoy showers anyways, you did not trust the men in the club when you were most vulnerable. 

You rushed to get ready, unaware of how much time you had accidentally spent in the shower. 

Stopping by the check-in again, both the young woman and the young man were there. They had been conversing with one another before you had stepped in. You asked for another night and you thanked the girl again for recommending the diner. 

She beamed at you and the man’s facial expression seemed to have softened when he saw the look on her face. 

Working at the diner was not too hard. You had worked at a bar when you were back at the club; bartending was not too different from waitressing. Most of the customers were elderly and did not seem to have minded if you made a mistake with their order. Despite this, they still tipped you well, which you greatly appreciated. While you for thankful for the job, it was not the best pay. 

You had been working at the diner for about a week. You rode in on your motorcycle every morning and returned to the motel every night. The routine made you forget what you were running away from. It had not bothered you because you knew that he would have caught up to you by now.

Instead of asking for another night every morning you had asked for another week at the motel, paying with the tips you saved up from the week before. The young woman gave you a deal since you were planning on staying for a while. You thanked her endlessly and she gave you another one of her bright smiles. 

It was suspected to be like any other day at the diner: clock in, prepare for the day, take orders, and do your job. What you had not expected was the man that rolled into the diner with a scowl.  

“Who’s bike is outside?” His voice roared over the quiet chatter of the customers, silencing them all. 

You turned around and were met with a gruff-looking man. His bright blue eyes swept over the diner, undoubtedly looking for someone.  

“Mine.” You answered. You knew by now that you were the only person who owned a motorcycle on that side of town. 

His eyes stopped on you. The scowl on his face disappeared. You knew you were not who he was expecting. He stalked up to the counter you were standing behind. He asked in a softer tone this time. “You in a club, sweetheart?”  

You frowned. That was not the type of question you were expecting. Hell, you were not sure what you were expecting when he came in and started yelling about your motorcycle. And the use of a nickname at the end made you frown deeper. 

“Not anymore.” You replied truthfully with a frown still adorned on your face. 

“And why is that?” He asked, leaning forward on the counter and frowning as well. 

Another question. “I got out.” He gave you a weird look, “For a good reason.”

“What’s a good reason, huh?” 

His continuous questions were starting to piss you off. He had no business to ask you these questions in the first place. It was not a topic that you wanted to discuss with anyone. Let alone a stranger. You were trying to forget your past and the man at the counter in front of you, who you still have yet to learn the name of, would not leave you alone. 

“Do you consider kidnapping me and killing my sister a good enough reason?” You answered in a low tone, but the anger in your voice was evident. 

His eyes widened and he leaned off the counter. He was silent for a moment, thinking before speaking. 

“Shit, honey I’m sorry.”  

He looked genuinely sorry. It took you by surprise. He backed off and walked out without looking back at anyone. 

You ignored the nickname and watched him leave. There was a motorcycle parked next to yours. You watch him as he swung his leg over it and rolled out of the parking lot. 

Your manager who had watched the entire encounter told you to have the rest of the day off after that.