Chapter Text
The smell of cigarette smoke and aged whiskey burned your nostrils all while you kept your hand encased with your best friend’s, following her into the packed bar. Rock music echoed against the walls, lyrics of Led Zeppelin and Aerosmith filled the air. You passed by a few people, before settling down at the far end of the bar.
You felt wildly out of place, glancing between the leather clad patrons and the grey sweater that sat over your shoulder. Nervously fiddling with your fingers, you saw Natasha plop herself on a stool next to you and place a gentle hand on your wrist.
“Relax, would you?” Her green eyes and soft smile seemed to relax you, but there was still an inkling feeling in the back of your head. “You are not together anymore, if he wants to make a big deal of you going out then he can talk to me.”
“Him being the horrid boyfriend, I presume?” You looked up at the sudden voice and smiled, seeing Sam Wilson behind the bar.
“ Ex -boyfriend, actually,” Natasha cut in, a knowing smile, but you couldn’t even muster yourself to lift up the corner of your mouth.
Nearly two years was wasted, and you spent it chasing a man for affection that didn’t even care about you in the first place. A relationship that had started so beautifully, that had been filled with joy and happiness that had now developed into something that filled your days with misery.
Quentin Beck never showed you affection unless you were the one to initiate it, he never showed up on dates and when he did, he was always either staring down at his phone or up at a television set, watching whatever sports was on at the moment.
It didn’t just stop at that, though.
Continuous nights of coming home when it was nearing one or two in the morning, the stench of stale beer and the hint of floral perfume tearing you from your sleep as he slithered into bed. The times you questioned him about it, he brushed you off and told you in an annoyed voice, “Would you relax and stop being so dramatic? You were probably having another one of those dreams.”
Looking back, you put up a lot for a long time with him and his flaws. Always having to clean the apartment, do the dishes, the laundry, everything. Natasha had begged, practically pleaded you to leave and break up with him, but you always opposed that. He, unfortunately besides Natasha, was all you had. You had no one else.
Conversations about your relationship swirled between you and your best friend for months, until finally, you saw him kiss another woman’s neck in the small restaurant you had about to order from, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from how he gently held her waist and caressed her face when he moved to cup her cheek.
It physically hurt you.
Not the fact that your boyfriend was kissing another woman in a bar, but the fact that in the past year of your relationship, he ever showed you an ounce of the love and affection he showed her.
You finally decided that was the final straw and broke up with him the day after. Natasha and a few of her friends volunteered themselves to help move you out of his apartment and in with Natasha.
To say it had been a stressful past few weeks would be an understatement, dealing with moving and adjusting to a life without him, Natasha instead that the two of you meet up with her friends, to let yourself loose.
And now, you found yourself sitting in a bar surrounded by people who you had only met on a few occasions, but Natasha had told them enough to get a good read off of you.
“And I presume that’s a good thing?” Sam’s voice tore you out of your thoughts. Natasha nodded her head a little too enthusiastically and you moved your gaze to his and nodded. “Well, good riddance to his ass. What’s your drink, sugar?”
“I guess a vodka cranberry,” you replied, unsure if you really wanted it.
In all truth, Beck always seemed to discourage you whenever you ordered yourself anything remotely alcohol, he would advise you to take it easy and to order something else in a bitter tone. But Natasha knew you better than anyone else.
“No, give her a whiskey sour. I think she’ll like that,” She slung an arm around your shoulder and leaned her temple against yours. “I know it feels like everything is falling apart, but I’m really glad you’re here with me tonight. I missed my best friend.”
The familiar sting of tears pricked at the back of your throat and you leaned into her embrace. Sam placed your drink on the napkin in front of you, handing Natasha a beer.
“I missed you, too, Nat.” you said back, taking your drink and clinked it against her bottle. You took a sip of your drink, and you looked at Sam with a gleam in your eyes. “Oh, I like that.”
“See? Don’t I know my friends?” The redhead smirked as she took a sip from her bottle, eyes glinting with excitement when she heard the deep familiar voice of the owner.
“Probably knows us all better than we know ourselves.”
You turned your head to see James, or Bucky as he liked to be called, walk up to the bar, several bottles of alcohol in hand as he began to stock the bar. Striking blue eyes met yours and he sent you a smile.
“The shipment just came in,” Bucky spoke to Sam. “Just stock it up in the freezer and Nat and Steve will go over the inventory tomorrow morning.”
Sam nodded and looked to Natasha, nudging his head to the back, where the inventory was waiting to be put away. Then, she turned to you with a gentle hand on your wrist.
“You gonna be okay if I help Sam out?” she asked and you nodded, pushing out a smile for her. She squeezed your arm and murmured how she wouldn’t be long. You watched her until she disappeared into the back before returning your gaze to your drink.
From behind the bar, Bucky watched as you trailed a finger up the side of your glass, catching the condensation before it touched the bartop. He lifted up your drink and placed a napkin below and leaned his elbows against the counter.
Bucky had been one of the first to know of your messy breakup with Beck. Afterall, he and Sam were both sitting with Natasha in the near empty bar when you called her, crying and almost hyperventilating after a two hour screaming match with him.
He had driven his truck to the apartment you shared with Beck and watched as Natasha dashed out of the backseat to you, pulling you into her arms. A shared look with Sam and Natasha was leading you to the truck, helping you inside before rushing inside to pack you a bag of essentials, some things to hold you over until you could properly move out.
The tissues that sat unopened in his glove box were offered to you, and your glossy eyes met the soft hues of his blue ones and more tears filled your eyes. The night was a blur to you, but you could distinctly remember him getting out of the driver's seat to comfort you until Natasha returned.
It was the simple acts of kindness, like when he placed a hand on your trembling back, rubbing soothing circles across your tense shoulders. Or when he helped pack and move your belongings from Beck’s apartment to Natasha’s.
You had only known him for a few months, but he had shown you more care than Beck had in the two years together.
“How are you?” Bucky asked as you took another sip. You shrugged and propped your head up on the palm of your hand.
“I don’t know,” you sighed. “One day I’m fine, the next day I just want to cry my eyes out for a guy who treated me like shit, now that I realize.” It never dawned on you how horribly he had treated you during your relationship. How he never liked you going out with Nat, or just going out in general unless it was with him. He could go out with his friends, but you had to stay home. He despised when you came home from work late, and would often pressure you into cooking even though you were exhausted. “I’m so stupid for staying with him for so long.”
You quickly downed the rest of your drink and winced at the sour taste before running the back of your hand over your forehead. The urge to cry tore its way through you, but you fought the desire.
Bucky placed a cup of water in front of you and brushed his fingers lightly over your knuckles. “Please don’t talk about yourself like that. You are not stupid, don’t think that you are.”
His voice was soft, and though he was dressed in dark jeans and a black t-shirt with tattoos lining his arms, he was always gentle when he spoke to you. You had seen him get rousey and excited during football games shown at the bar, but even then, he still remained a gentle person.
Parts of you wished Beck could have been more like Bucky… or that Beck was Bucky. If Beck had been more like him, maybe you wouldn’t have been in a bar drinking your pain away, but you couldn’t change the past, though you desperately wish you could.
“You have such a beautiful personality, don’t let that asshole take that from you again. Don’t let him hurt you even more.” Blue eyes held so much intensity as they gazed into yours and you could feel your cheeks heat up.
“Thank you, Bucky,” you said, mustering up a small smile. He winked at you and took your empty glass off the bartop and you asked, “can I have another?”
But Bucky was already a step ahead of you, placing a freshly made whisky sour in front of you. He watched you with a smile as you took a sip, sighing in content as the lemony alcohol satisfied the pain. “The guys and I have really enjoyed your company. We really like it when Nat invites you to the bar.”
You let out a hearty huff and smiled at him. “I like hanging out with you. I feel like I can… I can just finally be me .”
“It’s a good look on you,” Bucky said with a cheeky smile and he leaned forward. “But seriously, it doesn’t matter how long you stayed with him, or how poorly treated you. What matters is that you are away from him.” Tears gathered at your waterline. “Besides, you’re way too beautiful for him anyways. It’s his loss.”
You were at a loss for words, you couldn’t help the bashful smile and the heat that spread across your face like a wildfire. The way he spoke to you made your stomach flutter, the calm ocean blue of his eyes brought you to a safe place, away from all the toxicity you had faced.
“Thank you, James.” you whispered, blinking away the tears, though one escaped down your cheek. Before you could wipe it away, Bucky beat you to it, catching your tear with the pad of his thumb. He dropped his hand and brushed his fingers over the back of your hand and over your fingers.
As he was about to say something, a few patrons down the bar flagged for his attention. He nodded to them and turned back to you, pushing himself up from the bar. You watched him in content as he gave you a small smile and and you reached out and placed a hand over his tattooed wrist.
“I’ll be okay. Go help your customers,” you gently told him.
“I’ll only be a minute, doll,” He nodded and gave you one last smile before making his way down the bar. Your stomach fluttered at the nickname and you kept your eyes on his back until he was down at the other end of the bar, pouring whiskey into glasses and pulling out beer bottles from the cooler. You forced yourself to pull your gaze away from him, opting to swirl the straw around your drink.
Absorbing yourself in the atmosphere, you looked around, seeing how some patted each other’s back and laughed, some cheered to who knows what, and others placed bets on who would win in a game of pool.
Everyone knew each other around here, and the thought made your heart warm. The music wasn’t too bad either, as the jukebox played mostly classic rock, you still enjoyed it. The atmosphere in general you enjoyed.
You silently thanked Natasha in your head for dragging you tonight, though you had no interest originally, but being around Bucky and talking to him lifted your spirits. The thoughts of Beck and being with him instantly flew out of your mind.
Until you felt an all too familiar presence behind you, followed by the same nauseating stench of his cologne.
You turned around with wide eyes as you came face to face with your ex-boyfriend. Quentin Beck looked at you with an annoyed, malicious smirk. You couldn’t help but scoot closer to the bartop as his eyes raked over your form.
“What are you doing here?” You were the first one to speak, though your voice wavered. Your last encounter with him had been a two hour screaming match that left you sobbing and trembling.
Beck let out a dry chuckle and shook his head. “What am I doing? What are you doing, Y/n? Who the hell brings you to a place like this? I know we had our ups and downs, but really, a biker bar?”
Ups and downs? You swallowed thickly and stared back at him, biting your lip to ground yourself.
“Quentin, you cheated on me. With another woman. All the downs came from you, not me. We did not have ups and downs, you did,” you retorted, trying to hide the tremble in your hands. Your heart beated rapidly against your ribcage. “You can’t control where I go and who I go with anymore. You threw that away when you cheated.”
“For the love of-”
“Did it make you feel bad when you cheated on me? Did I even cross your mind for a second? Did those years mean nothing to you?” you spewed, and he stood with wide eyes that began to fill with anger. “You’re gonna say I’m overreacting even though you know I am right.”
Brown eyes flared with anger and he reached out and grasped your bicep tightly, pulling you up from your seat. You quickly pushed him a few feet away and looked for Bucky down at the end of the bar, but dread sank in your stomach as you found the space vacant. Beck grabbed you again, this time with a much firmer grip on your wrist.
“You keeping talking like that and I swear to god Y/n, I’ll-”
But before he could finish his sentence, Beck was ripped away and the tight grip on your wrist was released. Wide eyes focused on Bucky’s back as he stood himself in front of you, acting as a shield from Beck.
Patrons paid Bucky no attention, merely moving out of the way to give him more area. Beck, who had landed on his rear, pushed himself up to his feet and stood up to meet Bucky, unprepared for the height advantage Bucky had on him.
“Oh please, Quentin, I beg you to finish that sentence. ‘Cause that’ll give me just about another reason to beat the living shit out of you,” Bucky announced to him, piercing blue eyes narrowed on him.
Your shaking hand touched Bucky’s black shirt, and he immediately snuck a hand behind his back and you quickly latched onto his hand. Beck noticed, it only made him angrier.
“You talk about me cheating, bitch? Yet here you are, giving yourself to a biker nonetheless, whore .” You trembled at his venom laced words.
Bucky’s hand was ripped out of yours and you looked up to see Bucky punch Beck right in the nose. You clasped your hands over your mouth as patrons around the three of you cheered and applauded.
Natasha and Sam came running out to see Bucky leaning over Beck, who was nursing a bloody nose. Natasha made her way over to you, placing an arm on your shoulder as she looked to see if you were okay.
Though Sam did nothing but watch with a gleeful smirk as Bucky grabbed Beck by the collar of his jacket and whispered in his ear, “You come near her again or call her anything other than her name, and I swear to god I’ll make your life a living hell. If she so much as sheds a single tear, it’s over for you, Beck. Do I make myself clear?”
“Y-yes.”
“Good. Now get the fuck out of my bar.”
You couldn’t hear what Bucky said, but you watched and took your hand away with surprised eyes as Bucky released beck and stood up, wringing his hand out. It was only then did you notice the irritated skin of his knuckles.
“Are you okay?” You tore your gaze from Bucky to Natasha, her hands smoothing over your sweater and your bruising wrist.
“I’m okay, Nat,” you mumbled, though you weren’t sure if it was entirely true. You were expecting a night with your best friend but instead saw the one person you dreaded seeing. Bucky made his way over to you, looking to see if you were okay, but you caught his hand in your grasp. “You’re bleeding, Bucky.”
He didn’t feel the stinging of the minor knicks on his knuckles, but he took a glance at the bruising skin of your wrist. “And you’re bruisin’ up, doll. Let me put some ice on that.”
You nodded and allowed him to lead you away from the busy bar to the back office, not before scooping some ice into a cup. He led you to sit on the small couch he kept in the office, and as he sat down next to you, he rolled up your sleeve and pressed the ice against your skin.
“Are you okay?” Bucky asked quietly, and you sighed, blinking away the tears that formed at your waterline. You didn’t feel okay, but with Bucky next to you, in the moment, you felt more than okay.
Nodding your head, you fully expected him to get up and return to the bar, but he stood himself still in his seat next to you. “Thank you for what you did.”
Bucky shook himself and caught your gaze. “You don’t have to thank me, doll. I didn’t like how he was holding onto you. I’m sorry about my temper, but once he called you all those horrible things, I couldn’t help myself. You deserve someone who will treat you the way you deserve to be treated.”
He wiped away the tears that leaked out of your eyes and you grasped his forearm in appreciation. “Thank you, Bucky.”
The two of you sat while he continued to hold the ice to your wrist. His thumb caressed the soft skin of your arm, goosebumps littered your arms and you felt yourself leaning into his embrace.
“Do you think that maybe, whenever you find yourself ready again, I could maybe take you out on a date?” Bucky asked a moment later.
A heat spread across your face as you looked at him. Cerulean eyes stared back at you and a soft smile lit up your face. After a nasty breakup with Beck, you hadn’t even considered anyone else.
But spending the evening talking to Bucky, feeling the fluttering butterflies in your stomach from someone who genuinely made you smile, made you feel something , it was hard to not have some sort of attraction to him.
So, you looked up at him and nodded, “Yeah, I would really like that.”
It would be okay, you decided as Bucky pressed a kiss to your knuckles. Maybe a little rocky to start, but eventually everything would be okay.
Afterall, you had a tattooed biker at the end of the tunnel, waiting for you.
Yeah, everything is gonna be okay.