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pies-writes-and-more · 5 years ago

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OOOOOOOF KAYTEEEE <3

goddayummmm im already in fucking love

the wolf is literally my inner thoughts like damn did you read my mind or something?????

i also think ‘mate’ when i see steve hehe ;)

FOIASHDFOAHSD this was so incredibly well written!

Congratulations on 400 my darling :) you deserve that tenfold!

Fated - 1/6

Description: You’re a rogue werewolf, a bounty hunter. It’s not the most glamourous life, but it keeps you paid well and entertained. But when a long time acquaintance resurfaces with a mission, and a lot of money to throw around, you finally relent and take the job from him. And then things get crazy when you stumble upon your Fated Mate along the way.

Masterlist HERE.

Word Count: 4,070 ish.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Werewolf!Reader.

Rating: PG.

Warnings: Curse words. Sassy comments. Depictions of fight scenes and fighting, the same as canon stuffs. Maybe more to come. Who really knows with me!

Requested: Yes, this was a request from the lovely, @saturngirlz ! She asked for a Steve x Werewolf!Reader one shot, where the reader works with the Avengers. And me, being my long winded self, decided a one shot just wouldn’t be long enough for the idea I had. Soooo instead I’m making it a (semi) Mini Series. Yay me! Hahaha crap. But anywho, here’s part one! Hope you like it girly!!

A/N: I sadly don’t own any of these characters. And no beta reader, so I do proudly own all the errors and this story, so there’s that.

I was going to post this tomorrow, July 30th. But as I just hit 400 followers!!! Eek!! I decided to post it today for you all instead, as my sort of celebration for hitting that milestone! I probably won’t be updating this as quickly as L&W, as I need to focus on that series for now. But I’ll have a new part at least weekly, if not two times a week. So I hope you all enjoy this fun little drama fluff series!

[[MORE]]

Also, FYI, only the reader can hear her wolf talking in her head. Just so you know moving forward!

You hastily pull your clothes back on, standing alone, hidden in the shadows of the tall trees. It was the middle of the night, and you were near the edge of a dense forested area. A small cabin sat about 100 yards from where you stood, in a small clearing within the woods. You had just used your wolf to track down your current target, or your next ‘payday,’ as you liked to call them.

You zip up your black skinny jeans and then pull on your black leather jacket, yanking your hair out of it and letting it fall down your back. You lace up your combat boots, then put your hair up in a ponytail to keep it out of your face.

You reach down for your specially made backpack, the one that you could put on before a shift and it would stretch to turn into a harness, of sorts, on your wolf's back. It was the only way to keep clothes and other necessities on you while shifted. The bag which now just sat limply, on the ground near your feet, not having your clothes in it anymore to fatten it up.

You pull your gun from the bag now, checking that it is in fact loaded and ready to go, then tuck it into the back waistband of your jeans, pulling the bottom of your leather jacket down to conceal it.

Then lastly, you grab your stun gun and cuffs, tucking them into the deep, specially altered pockets of your jacket, and then you zip up your bag and tuck it behind a large tree, in between some foliage. Concealing it from anyone who may wander by, not that you expected anyone to way out here, but best to be safe instead of sorry. And all that jazz.

You survey the area, honing your amazing heightened senses on the cabin. Listening for any movement or voices. Looking for any shifting of lights or shadows. Smelling for any occupants or guard animals. You are so focused on the cabin that you don’t pay much attention to anything around you, not that you really have anything to fear out here. You are not a weak wolf, not even in the slightest.

You had once been a fearsome warrior in your old pack, you’d been there top defender. You’d basically been the head of any and all military ops—well besides your Alpha that is. He was the true head of it all, but you were basically his second command. Not of the pack though. You weren’t a Beta. You were just his go to on anything rogue related.

You laugh sardonically at that last thought. You used to go up against rogues, kill them mercilessly to protect your pack, your Alpha’s territory.

‘We were the best of the best,’ your wolf adds smugly in your mind.

And you nod, agreeing with her. You were the best of the best. But now, now you were a rogue yourself. A strong, independent, law abiding rogue, but still a rogue nonetheless. You were glared down at, as if you were the scum of the earth. Judged and disrespected by any and all pack affiliated wolves. Solely because you were rogue, solely because you’d left your pack. They all assumed you either betrayed your pack and had been kicked out. Or you’d been a weak misfit and left on your own, due to not being able to handle pack life.

But both of those couldn’t be further from the truth. You weren’t kicked out, and you didn’t just walk away willy nilly from your family, your life, your responsibilities, for nothing. No, you’d left because you had to. You couldn’t just sit there and allow that piece of shit to control you, to boss you around. He wasn’t your Alpha, regardless of if he technically was or not, he didn’t deserve your respect. Not after what he’d done. Not after he’d planned a coo, betrayed your True Alpha and then killed him so he could take his title. So no, he was no Alpha to you, he was just a rogue in disguise.

‘Grrrrr,’ she growls lowly in your head at that last thought.

But you just ignore her and focus back on what you were thinking about. So a week after all that happened, you packed your bags and left. Minding the territory lines as best you could, and sticking to the neutral areas as much as possible. Entering another Alpha’s territory without permission was a death sentence, especially if you smelled like a rogue. So when you absolutely had to enter one’s land, you did so carefully, cautiously and only at night.

The wind shifting directions blows a few strands free from your ponytail, but also sends a new, foreign smell up your nose. You tense up momentarily, taking a deep whiff and instantly you recognize the scent. Without taking your eyes off the cabin you speak to the person, the one you know is now behind you. “Did you enjoy the show?”

‘He better say yes, or I’ll eat him.’

You smirk to yourself at her comment, as a deep chuckle sounds behind you. “I didn’t see the show, actually. Figured you’d want a little privacy, so I hung back till you were dressed.”

“Ah, gotcha,” you nod, then shrug, “wouldn’t have bothered me any. I’m completely accustomed to being naked in front of others, it sort of comes with the territory of being a wolf. Ya know, what with shifting and all. I really only wear clothes because you lot dislike nudity so damn much.”

‘Humans are so weird,’ she mutters, shaking her head.

“That we do,” he agrees. “Do you have a minute to chat?”

“Not exactly,” you sigh, finally turning to face the man. “What do you want, Fury? I’m kinda in the middle of a big payday job here. If you hadn’t noticed.”

“I have an offer for you.”

‘We don’t care,’ she growls and you shush her in your head, telling her to ‘zip it.’

“Of course you do,” you roll your eyes. “I thought I made it pretty clear last time, that I wasn’t interested in joining your little Revengers, or whatever. Not my style. I work alone.”

“Avengers,” he corrects. “And we aren’t looking to recruit you this time. We just need help finding a bad guy, think of yourself like a freelance agent. Paid upon completion.”

“You couldn’t afford me,” you scoff, turning back around. “I’m not interested, Nic. So piss off quietly, would ya? I still got a job to do here, and I’ll be out for blood if you tip off my target, making a bunch of noise leaving. You humans are just so damn loud all the time.”

“I managed to sneak up on you,” he comments smugly.

‘Kill him. Kill him now!’ She urges, wanting to break through and rip him to shreds for his stupid comment. She doesn’t like being one upped by anyone, let alone by a fucking human.

“Lucky break,” you retort, through your clenched teeth. You aren’t exactly a big fan of being one upped either. “I was distracted, but it won’t happen again.”

“Sure, sure,” he says flippantly, and you can just sense the smug look on his face. And now you have to fight the urge to spin around and rip him to shreds. “I’ll leave you be, for now, Y/N. But you’ll be seeing me again very soon.”

‘He better hope the fuck not. We won’t be as friendly the next time around.’

You snicker quietly to yourself at your wolf’s sassiness, but wave Fury off dismissively. Your human focus entirely on the cabin once again, “yeah, yeah, whatever, Emilio Largo. Just go away already.”

‘Who the hell is Emilio Largo?’ She asks, confused, at the exact same time that you hear Fury’s deep chuckle behind you. You choose to ignore him and hope he actually leaves.

‘You know, the James Bond villain. The one with the eye patch, from Thunderball?’ You reply to your wolf in your head, just in case Fury is still lingering.

‘Nope, can’t say I know that one,’ she snarks, shaking her head.

‘We’ve watched it before,’ you point out.

‘Well then it obviously sucked as I clearly slept through it. So pick a more relevant one next time.’

‘Fine, fine,’ you huff. ‘Anything for you, you uncultured swine.’

A snort escapes you when you hear her growl menacingly, in response to what you’d just called her. Like you’d be afraid of the wolf in your mind, anything she does to you, she also does to herself. You hesitantly glance over your shoulder to ensure Fury is actually gone now. Noticing instantly that he is.

‘I really don’t fucking like him.’

“Yeah, I gathered as much,” you chuckle and then turn to face forward again. No more distractions, it’s time to get your head back in the game. You have a job to do here, a target to successfully apprehend. You aren’t the best bounty hunter in America for no reason, after all.

So what if you sort of cheated to get that title. If you used your wolf’s heightened senses. They were technically yours as well. And as most humans had no idea werewolves even existed, most just assumed you were that damn good. Which was also true, you were, you just also had a slight advantage over other bounty hunters. Over the humans.

You step out of the shadows of the large trees and make your way, quietly, towards the cabin. Whelp, here goes another take down.

You slowly trudge up the stairs to your 3rd floor walk up, you’d successfully apprehended your guy. Some idiot who tried to bail on his bond and hide out in the woods. Unbeknownst to him though, you were at your best in the woods. But he figured that out pretty damn quick, when he tried to flee out the back door of the cabin, 2 seconds after you’d knocked on the front door.

So after a short, but exhilarating chase, which is your favourite part of the job might you add, you’d caught and cuffed him. And all while still in your human form, you hadn’t even needed to shift into your wolf. The guy was just that slow.

Once he was fully apprehend, and was hogtied on the ground, you’d called the local police department to come pick him up. And once you’d handed him off to the authorities you walked back into the woods to retrieve your backpack. Telling the cops you didn’t need a ride back to town, as your truck was parked a few hundred feet into the woods, on a service road—one that did actually exist, there was just no truck parked on it currently.

Once the cops were gone, you stripped down, crammed your clothes into your backpack and then shifted. Allowing your wolf a chance to come out and run off all her adrenaline from the earlier chase. She ran you both all the way to the outskirts of the forest, a few miles away, and to where you’d actually parked your truck. Then it was a 3 hour drive home from there.

You reach your apartment door and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Something isn’t right, something is off. You tense up and raise your head a little, sniffing the air around your door. But then the same foreign smell from before hits you and you sigh.

‘Now can we kill him?’ She growls, pacing in your head.

‘No, stop being so damn dramatic,’ you roll your eyes, pulling out your keys to unlock your, clearly useless, padlock. You enter into your dark apartment, as if nothing is amiss. You flick on the hallway light and then head into your kitchen, the dining and living space all part of the same area in your apartment.

You wander over to the fridge, grabbing a beer and removing the cap with your teeth, before spitting the cap towards your garbage can in the corner. Getting it in on the first try, obviously—note the sarcasm. You glare at the cap on the ground for a second—the same cap that very much, did not, just go into the garbage can like you’d attempted.

Then you turn your eyes to your dark living room, seeing Fury sitting in your armchair. A human wouldn’t have been able to see him, but you with your heightened night vision can see him, clear as day.

“Ah, Mad Eye Moody. So good to see you again, it’s been so long.” You take a sip of your beer and make your way towards him. “I’d welcome you to my apartment, but I can see that won’t be necessary,” you shake your head and gesture to him, “as you’ve clearly already made yourself at home.”

‘Better?’ You ask your wolf in your head. Referring to the name you’d just called Fury.

‘Much, much better,’ she nods, happily. You roll your eyes fondly as you take another sip of your beer, how easily amused she always is.

“I did warn you,” he points out, shrugging nonchalantly. “I told you that you’d be seeing me again very soon.”

“I figured you meant in like a week or so,” you shake your head. “Not a couple of hours.”

He stands from the armchair, “this isn’t an ordinary mission. We are on a bit of a time crunch here, and need this to be handled hastily but efficiently. That’s where you come in.”

‘No the fuck we don’t,’ your wolf growls, and you shush her once again.

“Like I’ve said before, you couldn’t afford me.”

“Well, how much do you normally make on a job? I’m sure we can double it.”

“You still got that Stark guy funding your little boy scouts team? What was his name,” you say as you tap a finger on your chin. “Tyler? no. Trevor? mmm, doesn’t sound right.” You snap your fingers in a ‘got it’ kind of way, “no! Tom!”

“Tony,” he corrects flatly, looking supremely unamused. Though he always sort of looks like that, at least from what you’ve seen of the man anyways. “And yes, he is still funding the Avengers,” he also corrects. Again.

“Tony!” you throw your hands up in an ‘argh’ type of way. “Shit, I was so close!”

“Mhmm,” he hums, shaking his head. “So, what will it take to get you on this job? Name a price.”

“I’ll warn you, I don’t come cheap, and my price juuuuust tripled. Ya know, inflation and demand, and all that,” you wave a dismissive hand and shrug. “It’s now 3 million,” you tell him, then put the beer bottle to your lips and finish it off. And once you have, you place the bottle down on your coffee table, a smirk on your lips as you raise a questioning brow at him, “so still interested, Xander Harris?”

“Xander Harris?” He repeats raising his brow in return.

“Ya know, from Buffy the Vampire Slayer?” You question but his face stays unchanged, no recognition on it whatsoever. You shake your head, muttering to yourself, “wasting all my good material on utter swines.”

‘I am not a swine,” your wolf growls. ‘And I’ll have you know, I actually got that one,’ she says proudly, a wide grin on her snout.

You sigh deeply and wave a dismissive hand, “never mind, not really important. My price is 3 mill, take it or leave it.”

“Pack your bags,” he says moving towards your front door. “We leave in 20.”

“You’re not really in any place to order—“ the sound of your front door closing cuts off your words. You huff, “so fucking rude.”

‘I still say we eat him.’

“I may be slowly getting on board with that idea,” you chuckle and then head towards your room, you’d now take 30 minutes to pack, just to spite him. It’s not like he’d leave without you, not when he is, so clearly, desperate for you to be on this mission. You laugh a little more, shaking your head as you enter your room, and get to packing.

You plop down into the passenger seat, throwing your fully stocked duffle bag into the back seat then slam your door shut.

“34 minutes,” Fury comments as he starts the car, you glance over at him, but don’t say a word. You know exactly what he is referring to, you just don’t care. He sighs, “we’ll have to work on your response times.”

You smirk, “be happy it was only 34 minutes. Had I needed to put together any fancy outfits, it would have taken much, much longer.” You shrug, “you know how it is. Silly women and their desperate need to always pick the right heels for every dress.”

“Mhmm,” he hums disinterestedly, as he pulls out on the main road. “We’ll be at the tower in half an hour.”

“Sounds good, Patchy,” you nod and turn to glance out the window, watching all the buildings and skyscrapers as they wiz by. The reference to Patchy the Pirate from Spongebob instantly puts that damn theme song in your head. But then an idea comes to mind.

‘Do it, do it now! It will totally piss him off!’ Your wolf urges you, always the Devil on your shoulder.

You snicker then begin softly, slowly gaining volume as you continue on, “Who lives in a tower above New York city? Nich-olas Fur-yyyy.

Boorish and cranky and human is he. Nicholas Fur-yyyyy.

If a tactical death be something you wish. Nicholas Fuuuurryyyyy.

Then jump on the mission and try to get hit! Nicholas Fury. Nicholas Fury. NICHOLAS FUUUUUUURYYYYYY. Do-do, da-la-do, da-la-do, do-do.”

‘Encore! Encore!’ She says and you burst out laughing, knowing that if she could clap, she’d totally be doing that right now.

He sighs deeply, shaking his head but doesn’t say a damn thing. You grin and go silent once again, getting on Nick’s nerves has become your new favourite pastime. And you plan to continue on with that, as much as possible, while you still have the chance.

You find yourself standing next to Fury, in an elevator as it quickly rises up the Avengers tower. The rest of the car ride after your little impromptu concert was silent, deathly silent. Then when you arrived at the tower, he still hasn’t said a word. And now, as you stand in the elevator, your duffle bag slung over your shoulder and your visitor’s pass around your neck, he is still silent. He hasn’t uttered a word. Which is both nice, and completely frustrating, all at the same time.

‘Well I think it’s fantastic. I haven’t had the urge to eat him once since we left our house.’

You roll your eyes at her as the doors open and he abruptly exits, walking off down a hallway. Not saying a word or waiting for you at all. You sigh, shaking your head and then follow after him slowly. Not overly worried about losing track of him, as you can just use your nose to track him down again, if need be.

You glance around, taking in everything around you. All the sights, the sounds, the smells—wait, hold up, what’s that smell? You raise your nose in the air, taking a big whiff.

‘Follow it! Follow it now!’ She commands.

“I’m going, I’m going, don’t get your fur in a knot,” you huff, following your nose to the source of the delicious smell. Completely uncaring as to where Fury went. You are on a mission from the Moon Goddess now.

You round a corner, entering into a living space of some kind, you aren’t really sure, you were just following your nose. You see a man standing near an oven cooking something, “what is that delicious smell?”

“Jesus!” He whirls around, his long black hair flapping from the quick motion. “Why would you—“ his words halt once his eyes land on you, and he instantly looks confused. “Ah, who are you?”

“Y/N,” you answer vaguely, taking a few steps towards him. “And whatever you’re cooking smells divine.”

“Ah,” he glances back at the pan, then to you again. “Just steaks.”

‘We should have guessed!’

“I will literally pay you 100k right now, if you tell me there are extras.”

He raises a brow at you, giving you a once over then he just shrugs and turns back around, “you don’t gotta pay me, Doll. I always make extras, as someone usually ends up coming along and wanting some. Today it’s you, so you’re welcome to it.”

“Oh Goddess,” you sigh happily, damn near drooling on yourself now. “You are my new favourite person in this place. And just so you know, I would happily defend you with my life. Should it ever come to that.” You quickly make your way over to a bar stool, sitting on one and somewhat patiently waiting for the steaks.

He chuckles, shaking his head then wipes his hands on his jeans, before offering his right hand to you over the counter. “I’m Bucky, by the way.”

You shake his hand and smile, “nice to meet you, Bucky.” He nods and then turns back around to focus on cooking again, you both falling into a comfortable silence now.

But after a moment he speaks up. “So, Y/N,” he starts over his shoulder, then glances at you. “How’d you get in here, exactly?”

“Oh,” you giggle, realizing this guy had no idea how you’d have been able to get into a super secure building, undetected. Unbeknownst to him, you’ve actually done just that countless times in the past. Though you’d never actually attempted to break into the Avengers tower before. Note to self, try that soon. “The Governor brought me in. I’m working a mission with you guys, I’m sort of a freelance agent, I guess,” you shrug.

“The Governor?” He gives you an odd look and you smile.

“He’s a character from The Walking Dead, he has an eye patch,” you reply pointing to your eye, hoping he’ll figure out who you’re referring to with that nickname. But he doesn’t seem to piece it together, still looking completely and utterly lost.

‘He’s lucky he’s hot,’ your wolf snickers in your mind. And you snort, nodding your head in agreement.

“Fury. I was making fun of Fury,” you quickly clarify then sigh deeply, frustrated by how noone seems to be getting your pop-culture references lately. Clearly you needed to dumb them down a bit. “He brought me here.”

“Ah, gotcha,” he nods.

“Don’t let him fool you, Kid,” a new voice cuts in. “He has no idea what you are referring to. But I do.”

You turn to see an older man entering the room, a grin on his face as he walks towards you. Once he reaches you he extends his hand, “Tony Shark.”

You shake his hand, “Y/N.”

“Fury is pretty pissed that you’ve only been here 10 minutes and already you’re disappearing on him,” he chuckles, heading for the coffee maker.

“Where is Carl, anyways,” you glance around, “I was positive he’d have found me by now. He’s obviously losing his edge,” you shake your head.

‘If he even had one to begin with,’ your wolf chimes in.

“Carl was always my favourite minion,” Tony replies nonchalantly as he pours himself a cup of coffee. “And he’s with Capsicle.”

“Finally,” you drag the word out, a wolfish grin on your face. “Someone who gets it!” But then your grin promptly falls and is replaced by a frown, as you furrow your brow, “but what the hell is a ‘Capsical’?”

‘Do you smell that?! It smells better than the steaks!’

‘Smell what?’ You raise your nose and sniff the air. Oh Goddess, she’s right. Whatever that smell is, does smell better than the steaks. A million times better.

“That’d be me,” another new voice enters the mix, this one deep and delectable. Perfectly answering both your voiced question and the thoughts currently in your head. Your eyes snap up and lock on to a spellbinding set of cerulean eyes, as the large man attached to said eyes enters the room.

‘Mate,’ your wolf growls happily, bouncing around gleefully in your head.

“Oh, fuck,” you slowly mutter aloud in response, as your eyes go wide—And you assume comically so, at that.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

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