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witchywithwhiskey · 25 days ago

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a halloween trick and a halloween treat

pairing: cat shifter!bucky barnes x female reader

summary: you wake shortly after midnight on halloween, thinking it must've been your rescue cat disturbing you. but when you discover a naked, sleeping stranger in your bed, you're in for a much bigger surprise.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), monsterfucking, shifter dynamics (mating, purring, a nonhuman cock), sorta fated mates, smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, nipple sucking, fingering (f receiving), oral sex (f receiving), multiple orgasms, dry humping, light bdsm dynamics, lots of check-ins, biting, dirty talk, alpha kink, praise kink, pet names (koshechka [russian for kitty]), aftercare, very fluffy happy ending

word count: 12.9k

a/n: i had the idea for this fic so many weeks ago i don't even remember what inspired it, but i thought it might be a fun halloween fic! i struggled a bit with this fic, especially the magic and justifying bucky's decisions, so i hope it all makes sense!! suspension of disbelief is your friend with this one 😅 anyway i hope y'all enjoy!! ♡

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Something was…off.

It was the middle of the night, the waxing moon shining brightly through the curtains of your bedroom, an October chill in the air, and you’d been woken by… something. A sound, maybe?

It wasn’t uncommon for your rescue cat to wake you up in the middle of the night by knocking something over or playing with one of the many toys you’d gotten him. Sometimes, he’d even wake you up when he gently padded onto your bed in the middle of the night to snuggle into your body over the covers.

You smiled sleepily at the memory of having been woken up plenty of times in that manner since you’d found the Russian Blue trapped in a bucket behind your apartment building the previous November. You’d named the cat Bucky, which you could admit wasn’t the most creative idea you’d ever had, but it fit the mischievous feline.

At the very least, you certainly understood how he’d gotten himself trapped in that bucket, since he’d gotten himself stuck in any number of places around your apartment in the year since you’d brought him home, yowling for help until you rescued him.

In fact, you sometimes thought he got himself stuck on purpose for the sole reason of getting your attention—and the soothing snuggles you offered him afterward, cooing soft words about how he was your precious, handsome man in his soft little ears.

But that October evening, almost a year after you’d brought the cat home from the vet with a clean bill of health, you strained your ears to listen to the dark stillness of your apartment. You couldn’t hear the telltale padding of Bucky’s paws, or feel his warm body curled up next to yours.

Something still felt…different. Off.

Thinking about it more, you thought you felt a weight on the other side of your queen-sized bed. When you shifted, and the covers caught on something, as if they were being weighed down by something, you thought you must’ve been woken by Bucky jumping onto the bed and curling up to sleep.

Your eyes were still closed and you were snuggled deep beneath your blankets, but you pushed an arm free, reaching across your bed, your fingers seeking the soft fur of your cat. But when you searched the spot just below the other pillow you kept on your bed—in the hopes that you’d one day have a partner to share your bed with—you didn’t feel Bucky.

You felt bare skin. Warm, bare skin. Warm bare skin covering a broad, muscled back.

Pulling your hand back with a hiss, you wrenched your eyes open and found that it wasn’t your rescue cat in bed with you—it was a man. A man with his broad back turned to you, his soft brown hair messy on the other pillow and his spine curved like he was curled into himself.

And when your eyes trailed down the length of his back, you realized with a gasp that this stranger was naked. In your bed. In the middle of the night.

What the actual fuck!?

You sucked in a sharp inhale, your lungs filling as your body prepared to let loose the shrillest scream you could manage, because what the fuck!?

The man must’ve been woken by your gasps or your movement, because before you could make another sound, his head rolled over on the pillow and he blinked at you.

His eyes…

For a moment, they seemed to shine yellow in the moonlight—so much like Bucky’s when you were snuggling in bed before falling asleep. It stole the breath from your lungs, and your scream died in your throat.

As you watched, the man’s eyes shifted into a calm, piercing blue, and you had the odd feeling you recognized them. It almost looked like they were the same shade as your Russian Blue’s, even if they looked so different, so human.

The man’s eyes flickered with confusion and his soft lips pulled down into a frown. He reached a hand out to you, as if wanting to comfort you, but jerked to a sudden stop, his gaze falling on his own hand and staring at it as if it wasn’t his own.

He looked almost as disturbed as you felt finding a strange man sleeping naked in your bed.

The moment he’d looked away from you, you’d filled your lungs with more air, preparing to finally scream for help, and the man’s gaze flicked back to you. Just before you could scream, the man moved swiftly, rolling over and throwing his body on top of yours.

His strong arms caged you in beneath the blankets and his broad, warm chest pressed down on yours, keeping you pinned but not crushing you. The man’s hand cupped the back of your head and pressed your face into the curve at the base of his neck, effectively muffling your scream into his smooth skin.

It all happened so fast, you didn’t have a chance to feel scared, and a second later, a purring sound filled your ears. Vibrations seemed to come from the man on top of you, making your entire body hum pleasantly from the sensation traveling through the blankets that were trapped between your bodies.

It was remarkably comforting…and oddly familiar in a way you couldn’t place. It made you feel…safe.

So safe that your body, which had been tensed with fear, slowly relaxed. All your muscles loosened until you were a melted puddle of pleasant tingles. A dazed smile teased the corners of your lips and you nuzzled the man’s shoulder, breathing in the scent of his skin. He smelled like something wild, like the night and the moon.

The purring tapered off, and without the sensation of the vibrations reverberating through your body, you tesned again. It came back to you that you were pinned beneath the blankets of your bed by a strange, naked man, who’d somehow broken into your apartment in the middle of the night.

You began to thrash beneath the cage of the man’s broad chest, kicking your legs and flailing your arms to try to dislodge him, but he was a solid weight on top of you.

In fact, if he wasn’t a strange, naked man, he’d make a pretty good weighted blanket. But as it was, fear was making your pulse pump hard in your veins—that is, until you heard his voice. His first words.

“It’s me,” he rumbled, his words barely discernible above the purring that started again from his chest. His voice was deep, rough, gravelly, like he hadn’t used it in a long while. “It’s Bucky—your Bucky.”

The breath stalled in your lungs and all thoughts of screaming died a quick death. You blinked past the man’s shoulder, staring up at your ceiling, trying to process what he’d said. How could this man be your cat, Bucky?

The orange glow of the streetlight was filtering through your curtains, joining the bluish hue of the moon, casting your room in dark, multihued shadows. It was late October—it was Halloween, if you remembered correctly, since it must’ve been after midnight.

It was the time for spooky things, and you were probably more inclined than most to believe in the fantastical, but you couldn’t seem to wrap your still sleepy mind around the fact that there was a strange, naked man in your bed and he claimed to be your pet cat. That just…it couldn’t be real. Right?

The man kept purring, and the longer you thought about it, the more peculiar it seemed. Men didn’t purr like that. Like a cat trying to soothe a frightened kitten. But that’s exactly what he was doing—and you were the frightened kitten in this scenario, which didn’t bother you as much as you would’ve thought. Because the purring did feel and sound very nice…

But still, he couldn’t be Bucky. That would mean he was somehow able to shift between human and cat form, and you didn’t care how many romantasy novels you read about shifters falling in love with humans, they couldn’t be real. They just couldn’t.

Even as you thought that, and told yourself you knew what was real and what was fantasy, the fact that the man was also your pet cat was the only thing that made sense. It was the only explanation for why his purr sounded so much like Bucky’s, why his eyes had looked so much like Bucky’s, why his warm, wild scent reminded you so much of Bucky.

“B-Bucky?” you whispered into his shoulder, your voice shaky and uncertain. You were so quiet, you didn’t know if he’d heard you. But his purring softened, and he pushed up enough that he could hover above you. You saw his face properly for the first time.

And…oh. What a handsome face it was.

Two piercing blue eyes framed a straight nose, leading down to a pair of perfectly soft-looking lips. His jaw was broad and sharp, softened slightly by the thick, dark scruff that was almost long enough to be a beard. In the moonlight, you could see patches of silver streaking through the dark brown of his scruff, and you ached to rake your nails through it.

Instead, you flicked your gaze to his brown hair, which was longish and falling into his face in the most charming way. But even as you wondered how it’d feel to run your fingers through the man’s soft hair, your eyes wandered back down to his eyes, which were staring at you warily. He was watching you closely for your reaction, but you were too stunned by his handsomeness to do more than stare back.

“Are you going to scream again?” he asked gruffly, his voice still raspy from sleep or disuse, you couldn’t be sure.

You took a moment to think about his question, really think about it. If you were honest with yourself, you were starting to believe the man was, somehow, who he said—Bucky, your pet cat transformed into a human. It was hard not to consider it, especially when you were staring up into his eyes that looked so much like Bucky’s that it gave you an eerie sense of déjà vu.

But the rational side of your mind reminded you that he could still be a lunatic pervert with eyes that just happened to look like Bucky’s. He could’ve been stalking you long enough to know your pet’s name, and could be trying to lure you into a false sense of security to…murder you or something.

So you narrowed your gaze on him.

“Maybe,” you finally answered. “Depends on whether you can prove you are who you say you are.”

He nodded like he wasn’t surprised by your answer and looked away, his eyes trailing over your room. There was something about the way he looked at your pile of not-clean-but-not dirty clothes and the mess on top of your dresser that made you think he knew the landscape of your bedroom almost as well as you did.

Which was, decidedly, not like a stalker pervert who’d never been in your room before.

“First,” he started in that deliciously gruff voice of his. “Can you tell me if it’s Halloween?”

You huffed a sound that was halfway between surprise and frustration. You didn’t understand why he was delaying. You wanted him to either make you believe he was Bucky, or convince you he wasn’t so that you could get on with screaming and calling the cops. Feeling him laying on top of you was beginning to feel far too comforting for your liking.

“Yeah,” you answered, after a moment of thinking about the days. “I mean yes, it definitely is.”

The man looked a little crestfallen at your answer, his lips pulling down into a frown. You were so preoccupied with the way his soft mouth looked perfectly kissable amidst all the rough scruff on his jaw that you almost missed his muttered words.

“I must’ve lost track of the days,” he said to himself, shaking his head with disappointment etched all across his handsome face.

The urge to comfort him, to wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him close so you could bury your face in his chest and inhale his comforting, wild scent was strong, and it made you restless. You were frustrated with yourself, with the way you were waiting quietly for this strange man to get his bearings when you should’ve been demanding answers.

Unable to stop your frustration from boiling over, you wriggled beneath him impatiently, trying to buck him off. But you didn’t move his bulky form even a bit. And there was absolutely no part of you that found that attractive, that liked that he could pin you down and hold you beneath him with his sheer weight and strength.

The purring emanating from the man’s chest picked up again, his body pressing you deeper into your soft mattress. He shifted a little, and if you weren’t mistaken, you felt something twitch against your belly, something that had you glaring up into his stupid handsome face.

“Tell me who you are and what you’re doing in my bed right now,” you hissed through snapping teeth, hoping you came across fiercer than you felt—which was like a spitting kitten for all the strength you had in comparison to the larger man.

A slow, tempting smile spread across the man’s face, his purring stuttering like he was holding in a laugh. Despite yourself, you had to work to hold onto your anger, which wanted to abandon you in light of the stranger’s charmingly appealing grin.

“You’re adorable when you try to be threatening,” he cooed, still grinning at you. He was so close that his scent enveloped you, and his purr still vibrated softly through your body. It was all you could do not to relax and give in to the strange man’s charms.

Then, to your great surprise, he ducked down and nuzzled your cheek with his own, his scratchy scruff roughing over your soft skin in an affectionate gesture.

It was so achingly familiar, it made your heart squeeze in your chest.

It was so much like how Bucky would rub his sweet little face against your cheek and the underside of your chin when he was cuddling with you. You’d seen plenty of TikTok videos about how clingy male cats could be with their female owners, and that was exactly how Bucky acted. He was so affectionate, always rubbing himself against you and staring up at you like you were his whole world…

A surprised puff of air escaped your lungs, along with a shocked little whimper. The man must’ve heard you, because his purring picked up and he shifted so his mouth was right next to your ear.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” he murmured, his voice gentle and genuinely remorseful. “Will you let me explain—please?”

It was the man’s final word, the strain in his hoarse voice, as if he was begging for his life, that did you in. With a disgruntled sigh, more at yourself than anything else, you said, “Fine.”

The man lifted his head and stared down at you, his piercing blue eyes raking over your face—and a soft affection that had your heart thumping harder in your chest. There was uncertainty in the gentle twist of his mouth and, as you watched, he took a deep, steadying breath, as if preparing himself to jump off a cliff.

“I’m a shifter,” he said bluntly, his gaze watching you sharply. When you only blinked up at him, he went on. “I can turn into a gray cat—a Russian Blue, to be specific. Sound familiar?”

A smirk flirted around the edges of the man’s mouth as he raised his brows, as if prompting you to see the connection between what he said he was and your pet cat. However, you refused to be charmed by him, so you pressed your lips into a firm line and narrowed your eyes at him, telling him wordlessly that you still didn’t quite believe him.

He huffed an amused laugh and went on.

“Halloween is the one day of the year I can’t stay in my cat form,” he explained patiently, his expression open and honest. “It’s something about the thinness of the veil on this day, it forces all shifters to walk the earth in our human forms.”

There was a beat of silence as you processed the man’s explanation. He really did look so earnest, and you couldn’t ignore all the similarities you’d already noticed between him and Bucky. The purring, the nuzzling, the eyes…

“So you’re my cat?” you asked dubiously, your eyes still narrowed up at him, mouth pursed in a skeptical frown. “Bucky?”

The man nodded, hope transforming his face. But then he paused, tilting his head to the side as if considering your words more closely.

“Well, yes—but my name isn’t Bucky.”

Your frown deepened. Embarrassed heat bloomed in your cheeks at the realization that you’d not only named the handsome Russian Blue you’d rescued from a bucket so unoriginally, but that he’d been a shifter who had a name of his own.

“What is it?” you squeaked, trying to tamp down on your humiliation.

“James Barnes,” he said, as he studied your expression. Something about the way a playful grin was spreading across his face told you that you weren’t successful in hiding your embarrassment from him. “But I like Bucky, too,” he said, ducking his head down to murmur in your ear, “Because it’s what you call me.”

You tried to ignore the way your heart flipped in your chest at the implication of his words, but a pleased warmth was flooding through your body and making you melt beneath his comfortably heavy weight. It took all your self-control not to purr right back at the strange man—James, or Bucky, or whoever he was. You still weren’t sure if you believed him.

“Kind of convenient that you can’t shift right now and prove you’re telling the truth,” you pointed out, trying to get the conversation back on track and get the undeniable proof you needed. You were surprised to find you wanted James to prove he was really Bucky. It would be…nice.

At your words, the man sighed, leaning up so you could see his face while he carded his fingers through his hair in a sign of frustration. You couldn’t help the little stab of jealousy as you watched, wishing it was your fingers sifting through his soft strands. Maybe pulling a little bit, tugging him down to kiss you…

You shoved the thought away and focused on him as he began to speak.

“I know,” he huffed, a displeased frown on his face as he stared off to the side. Shaking his head to clear away whatever he was thinking about, his gaze refocused on you. “I had a plan.”

“A plan?” you echoed, unsure what he meant by that.

“I was going to slip out before you woke up,” he explained, rubbing the back of his neck as a sheepish smile curved his mouth. “And then bump into you when you go get your coffee—like you do every morning.”

“Ok, stalker,” you mumbled to yourself, a little disturbed by how well the man knew your routine. A ripple of fear passed through you, but it dissipated when James huffed a self-effacing laugh.

“I know how that sounds,” he said, looking down at you, his blue eyes glittering with affection and his mouth curving into a fond smile. “But it was hard not to notice you going out every morning and coming back smelling like coffee and sunshine and happiness,” he said. “That’s why I wanted to meet you—really meet you—there, somewhere that made you smile.”

James shifted his arm, his hand cupping your face gently and his thumb brushing over the corner of your mouth, his eyes staring at that spot, like he was picturing your smile. It was hard not to melt at the poetry of his words and the soft way he was looking at you, but you soldiered on with your interrogation of the strange man.

“What were you going to do after we met?” you asked, your voice more breathless than you would’ve liked, but you couldn’t help it. Not when James was looking at you so intensely.

“I was going to buy your coffee for you, strike up a conversation,” he said, his voice faraway, almost dreamy as he kept staring at your mouth. “Do things the right way.”

At that, your brow furrowed and your lips tipped down in a confused frown. That seemed to snap the man out of whatever daze he’d been in, his eyes flicking back to yours.

“Do what the right way?” you asked.

“You know…” he said, regarding you like he was trying to figure out if you were being deliberately obtuse or if you really didn’t understand. He must’ve decided you really didn’t know what he was talking about, because he went on. “Dating you, wooing you, telling you about what I am after you know me—the real me.”

Your heart did that annoying little flip again, but you couldn’t help it, not when a man as handsome as James was talking about wooing you. Still, you weren’t going to let him off the hook just because the man—who may or may not be your pet cat (but probably was)—had a romantic side to him.

“Yeah that sounds like a better plan than letting me wake up to you sleeping naked in my bed,” you said dryly, raising an eyebrow at him.

“I know,” he huffed, pulling his hand away from your cheek and scrubbing it down his face as he groaned in frustration. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this, you were supposed to trust me. I had a plan.” His final words were bitten out through clenched teeth, and you could practically feel his annoyance radiating off him.

“Mmm,” you hummed in acknowledgement, wanting to comfort him but not allowing yourself to give in to the urge. Not when you still had so many questions. “So if today is the only day when you can’t change shift at will, why have you been living as my pet for almost a year?”

For the first time in your conversation, Bucky’s face shuttered and his expression turned guarded. His eyes darted away from you and he rubbed a hand over his scruff, the soft, scratchy sound filling your quiet room.

For a moment, you desperately wanted to rub your cheek against his scruff, to nuzzle him the way he had you, but you squashed the idea as soon as it flitted through your mind as you waited for him to answer your question.

Bucky’s gaze drifted back to yours, and the walls he’d put up moments before seemed to come down just as fast as he stared into your eyes.

“A pretty girl took me in and fed me and kept me warm,” he rumbled, his voice low and deliciously gruff as he raked his eyes over your face. “She let me sleep in her bed, and curl up with her. She let me comfort her when she was sad, and smiled just for me when she was happy.”

The way Bucky was looking at you, his gaze filled with so much naked affection, stole the breath from your lungs. You didn’t know when you started calling him Bucky in your mind, but you realized you truly believed that he was who he said he was. He was your cat, transformed into a human.

“What was I supposed to do,” he went on, a small smile curving the corner of his mouth. “Shift right in front of her, and scare the fuck out of her, then ask her out?” He laughed quietly, shaking his head ruefully in answer to his own question. “I wanted to do things right.” Cupping your face gently, he stared deep into your eyes. “Besides, I liked being yours.”

Happiness burst like fireworks in your heart. “You…” you trailed off, needing to swallow past your dry throat and your thumping heart before continuing. “You liked being mine?” you asked, needing to hear him say it again for some reason you couldn’t understand. It seemed too unreal that he could like being your cat more than he liked being able to live his life as a free man. Or shifter.

Bucky’s eyes slowly swept over your face, taking in your parted lips and your hopeful gaze. He seemed to be able to read you like a book, and you found you didn’t mind that so much, not when Bucky’s mouth was gently curving into a smile that was deeply pleased with what he saw in your expression.

“I liked being yours,” he repeated for you, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers through your body, settling deep in your core and making a warmth bloom that had everything to do with the man in your bed. “And I wanted you to want to be mine—to like being mine, too.”

He watched you for a long, silent moment. You couldn’t be sure, but you thought he was holding his breath, waiting for your reaction, though you were still too stunned to give him one. When he realized this, he spoke again.

“Please tell me I haven’t ruined things.”

The hushed desperation in his tone was your undoing.

Your arms pushed against the cocoon of blankets you were trapped in, and Bucky lifted himself up higher to let you pull free. He was watching you warily, like he was half expecting you to use your arms to push him off you.

Instead, you lifted your hands and cupped his face, tugging on him gently until he lowered himself back down on top of you. His weight felt more familiar and comforting than it had any right, and you had to force your request from your lips.

“Tell me something only you’d know, Bucky,” you whispered, your own thinly veiled desperation in your words. You already knew in your heart that he was Bucky—your Bucky—but you needed something more definitive to quell the fear and doubts in your mind. “Please.”

He stared at you for a moment, something like hope and excitement swirling in his piercing blue gaze. When he spoke, his voice was gruff, full of emotion.

“When you think I’m sleeping, you whisper secrets in my ear,” Bucky said, his eyes briefly trailing down to your mouth like he couldn’t help himself. But his gaze flicked back quickly to yours before continuing on. “You told me how annoying your coworker is—Agatha, right? And how you wish your boss appreciated you more.”

You were silent and still beneath Bucky, shock rolling through you and leaving you stunned. Bucky was right, you did have a habit of talking to your cat, whispering in his ear when he was curled up in your arms or on top of your chest, telling him all the things you didn’t say to anyone else.

It was slowly dawning on you that the man really, truly was Bucky. But he seemed to take your silence as uncertainty, and so he went on.

“You told me how you get sad and lonely sometimes,” Bucky rumbled, his arms shifting so he could cup your face in his big hands, his thumbs brushing gently across your cheeks. “You told me how you wished someone would hold you the way you held me.”

Slowly, he lowered himself down on top of you, as if still waiting for you to push him away. Instead, your arms wound around his bare back, your fingers pressing into his skin and clinging to him while he nuzzled his scruffy cheek against yours. You returned the gesture, nuzzling him back.

“You told me how much you want to fall in love,” he murmured in your ear, his breath warm against your skin, making you shiver. “And how afraid you are of getting your heart broken.”

Lifting himself up to look at you, you could see the pain and desire churning in his eyes, and you could hear it in the way his voice cracked on his last word. It all seemed to finally loosen your tongue.

“Bucky,” you whispered in a thick voice, tears threatening to fall with the sheer amount of emotion flowing through you. There was shock, of course, but also so much wonder and happiness. “It really is you,” you said, marveling up at the man above you, lifting your hands to trace the lines of his handsome face.

His eyes closed, like he was savoring your touch, and a purr kicked to life in his chest while a small smile curved the edges of his mouth. It was a mouth you were suddenly aching to kiss. And you couldn’t, for the life of you, come up with a reason why you shouldn’t.

Just as tentative as he’d been, you leaned into Bucky, your hands tilting his face down to yours while you raked your nails lightly through the scruffy hair on his cheeks and jaw. You brushed your lips against his, so softly it could barely be considered a kiss.

You felt the big man above you stiffen with surprise, his eyes flying open to stare into yours with a question clear in his blue depths.

In answer, you leaned in again, pressing your mouth infinitesimally more firmly against his, and flicked your tongue out to swipe at his plump lower lip.

He tasted like the night, dark and alluring, and you could already tell that you would quickly grow addicted to it, licking along the seam of his lips, searching for more.

Bucky groaned, the sound deep and masculine, sending delicious shivers down your spine as he dug his arms beneath your body and held you crushed to him. He captured your mouth before you could retreat again, kissing you until you were breathless. He kissed you like he’d been starving for you and since he’s gotten a taste, he’d be damned if he let you go.

It was intoxicating to feel the way he wanted you as much as you wanted him, and you gave yourself into it, kissing Bucky back as hard as he was kissing you. Your fingers sank into Bucky’s soft brown hair, clinging to him with the same desperate devotion with which he held you.

Of their own accord, your legs spread beneath your blankets, allowing Bucky’s hips to settle into the cradle of your thighs. Even through the layers between your bodies, you could feel the hot, hard length of his arousal pressing into the juncture of your legs so tantalizingly, you moaned into his mouth.

“Fuck,” Bucky growled, breaking free from your lips to press kisses along your jaw. His breathing was harsh in your ear, like he couldn’t catch his breath. “D’you know how long I’ve wanted to kiss you, koshechka?” He sucked on a spot just beneath your ear, dragging another mewling moan from your lips before answering his own question. “Since the day you brought me home. I’ve wanted to kiss you since that first day.”

“Bucky,” you chastised on an uncontrollable giggle as he nuzzled his scruffy jaw into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply like he was breathing in the scent of your skin. He groaned, making you shiver with pleasure. Still, the words burst out of you, “That’s creepy!” Your tone was meant to be admonishing, but your voice was too breathless to have much heat.

“The smell of you and the taste of your skin are burned into my mind,” Bucky murmured before dragging the flat of his tongue up the curve of your neck, wringing a low, throaty moan from your lips. “But I wanted to know if your mouth would be sweeter.” He captured your lips for another kiss, his mouth moving against yours in a way that made your head spin.

“Is it?” you asked when he pulled away, giving you a brief reprieve from his drugging kisses. Bucky’s eyes looked as hazy as you felt, and he seemed to not understand your questions. “Sweeter, I mean.”

A slow, seductive smile spread across Bucky’s face, and even cast in the shadows of your room, you could see plainly how handsome he was—so much so, your breath caught in your lungs.

“Oh koshechka, your mouth is the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted,” he murmured before diving down for another kiss.

Between your thighs, you could feel Bucky’s cock throbbing and twitching—and it was so hot, you could feel the heat of him through your blankets.

A slight sheen of sweat was gathering in the creases of your thighs and behind your knees, your own center pulsing with a desperate ache to be closer to Bucky, to be pressed against his warm, bare skin. Your legs kicked restlessly at your blankets, trying to push them out of the way without letting go of your hold on Bucky, whose body was pinning yours to the bed.

Bucky chuckled against your mouth and lifted up enough to help you push the blankets off your body—laughing harder at your disgruntled whine—before settling back down on top of you. Your legs spread to make room for his narrow hips between your thighs, his hard cock pressing against the thin fabric of your panties.

Without the blankets in the way, you could feel something strange about Bucky’s cock. There were…bumps on it? A pattern of bumps circling the shaft, which grew thicker toward the head.

Your brows lowered in a frown of confusion and you tilted your hips, rubbing your clothed cunt against the length of him, groaning in pleasure when the bumps dragged deliciously against your clit.

But you were distracted from further exploration by Bucky’s voice.

“Do you want to know what I looked forward to most about dating you, koshechka?” Bucky asked against your lips, nipping and licking the breath from your lungs while he picked up your rhythm, grinding his cock against your slit through the meager fabric of your panties.

“Wh-what?” you asked in a trembling voice, your hips rocking up against Bucky, your ankles looping around the backs of his thighs for more leverage to grind against his cock.

“I couldn’t wait for the first time you’d let me stay over,” he murmured, dragging his mouth along your jaw and playfully biting the lobe of your ear, drawing a gasp from your lips. “I’d give you my shirt to sleep in, instead of one of these little nightshirts you like,” he said, his fingers curling into the fabric and rucking it up around your hips, spreading your legs wider and giving him more access for his rolling hips.

“What’s wrong with my nightshirts?” you asked on a needy whimper. You pouted as you tipped your head down to look at him while he was busy placing wet, open-mouthed kisses to your collarbones through the thin cotton of your shirt.

Bucky flicked his eyes up to yours and growled, “They don’t smell enough like me.” His hands slipped beneath your nightshirt, his warm palms skimming over your bare skin and making you shiver. He wrapped his fingers around your ribs, thumbs brushing over the lower curves of your breasts, just teasing your nipples while he stared up at you, watching the way you gasped for him.

It took you a long moment to process his words, and when you did, all you could manage was to whine his name, “Bucky.” The thought of smelling like him did something to your heart and your insides, melting them to the point that you squirmed from the heat flooding your body.

As you watched, a slow smirk spread across his face. He lowered his mouth to one of your tits and flicked his tongue across your pebbled nipple through your shirt.

“You should always smell like me,” he muttered into the soft curve of your breast, almost like he was talking to himself, before he latched onto your nipple and sucked the tight peak into his mouth.

Warm, wet heat surged through your body as Bucky suckled on you in long, deep pulls that tugged on a line connected directly to your clit, which was throbbing with need against his still gently rutting cock. His precum was slowly leaking onto your lower belly, making a mess of your panties, but they were ruined by your own arousal anyway.

Between Bucky’s cock and his mouth, your body was a mess of pleasure and wetness, your panties growing increasingly drenched the more he rocked against you, bullying your clit and torturing your nipples. His head shifted, moving to the other, before giving your other breast just as much attention and making your mind spin.

It took you long, long minutes before you could form a coherent thought, your mind catching on something Bucky had said. What tumbled from your lips was the inelegant question: “Do you even own a shirt?”

Bucky paused, like your question surprised him, and a second later he was laughing into the valley between your tits, his forehead pressed to the top of your sternum as his warm breath ghosted against you through your shirt.

“Koshechka,” he rumbled, still laughing as he raised his head to meet your curious gaze. His eyes were sparkling with humor and affection in the moonlight. “I have a whole apartment across town.”

“Then why did you stay with me?” you asked. Your brow furrowed in confusion at that revelation, even as curiosity began winding through your mind. What did his apartment look like? Was it cozy or sparse? Did he have plants or a massive flatscreen? Did he have a pet cat of his own?

And who was taking care of his apartment while he’d been living with you? Or did he sneak out while you were at work to go hang out at his home?

Bucky’s voice reeled you back into the moment.

“I told you, koshechka,” Bucky murmured, leaning up to press a kiss to your swollen lips.

It was soft and sweet and you didn’t want him to stop, but you were too curious about his answer to protest when he pulled away to look at you again.

“A pretty girl took me in and kept me,” he rumbled, his voice low and delicious, his mouth curved into a mischievous smile that you desperately wanted to lick. “She let me cuddle her and nuzzle her cheeks and sleep in her bed, why would I leave?” He chuckled, shaking his head as he stared at you. “Being your pet was better than being my own man.”

Bucky’s words sank deep into your heart, tears of something like joy springing to your eyes, and you cupped his face to pull him in for another kiss. With no words, only your mouth, you told him how much his statement meant to you.

He liked being with you more than he liked being free. How could you ever be expected to let go of a man who said such things to you? You didn’t know if you could, even considering the strangeness of your meeting.

Your kiss grew heated and your thoughts melted away, your body writhing beneath Bucky’s as you tried to press closer, despite there being little space left between your bodies already. A whine worked its way up your throat and Bucky swallowed the sound, his mouth curving against yours in a smile before he eased back.

“May I?” he asked, nodding down to your nightshirt, which he was slowly pushing up further. It took you a moment to realize he was asking your permission to take it off, but when you did, you nodded. However, he didn’t move, only gave you a more intense look. “Use your words, koshechka.”

“Yes, please…” you said, trailing off as a thought occurred to you. “Do you still want me to call you Bucky?” you asked, tilting your head on your pillow and staring up at the man who’d told you his name was James.

You watched Bucky’s smile spread across his face and he ducked down, kissing you quickly, like he couldn’t help himself. He trailed kisses along your jaw and down the column of your throat while he pushed your nightshirt up slowly, teasingly.

“You can call me anything you want, koshechka.”

You considered his words distractedly while he tugged your shirt off, both of you pausing while Bucky admired your body. You had the urge to cover yourself, but held back, more than a little stunned by the sheer amount of heat and desire in Bucky’s gaze. A pleasant warmth prickled beneath your skin everywhere he looked, and it made you want to reach for him, so you did, tugging on his shoulders to pull him closer.

Obligingly, Bucky settled back down on top of you, his mouth working against your collarbones before trailing down to your tits. His big hands worked your soft flesh, kneading you firmly enough to make you gasp and writhe, while his mouth moved between kissing, licking and nipping your skin, teasing your nipples with purposeful flicks of his tongue.

Despite how perfectly Bucky was working your body, your mind was still caught on what he’d said about calling him anything you wanted.

“What about daddy-cat?” you asked, your voice breathless as you held in a moan. It was the most ridiculous nickname you could think of, and you were curious to see how Bucky responded. He only huffed out a muffled laugh, suckling on your nipple and dragging the moan from your lungs that you’d been holding in.

“If you want,” he murmured against your skin, shrugging a shoulder and not even looking up from your tits.

“Okay,” you said, dragging out the word, your thoughts scattering when he moved to your other breast and sucked deeply on your nipple. Wetness flooded between your thighs and you whimpered pathetically.

Suddenly, a word came to mind, one you’d seen in some fantasy novels you’d read, and it appealed to you in a way you couldn’t put into words—especially not with Bucky’s mouth on your tits. But it felt right, and it tumbled easily from your lips.

“Alpha.” The word was half gasp, half plea, and filled entirely with your need for Bucky.

Bucky went still, his body going rigid even as his cock twitched between your thighs. Then, his purr kicked to life in his chest, louder than you’d heard it yet.

The vibrations that had teased you through your blankets were so much more intense when your skin was pressed against Bucky’s, and you let out a soft, gentle moan. Your body relaxed instantly, melting beneath Bucky’s broad form while he dug his arms beneath your back and held you close to his chest.

“I like that,” he rumbled through his purring, kissing up your chest and neck until his mouth found yours. “Call me that, koshechka.”

“Yes, alpha,” you said on a sweet sigh that Bucky swallowed down with a filthy groan, sounding like he was tasting something delicious.

“Fuck, koshechka, you’re making my cock so fucking hard,” he growled against your mouth, his words sliding over your tongue and making you shiver with need.

Bucky’s fingers circled your wrist and he dragged your hand down between your bodies slowly—slowly enough, and his grip loose enough, you knew you could’ve pulled away if you’d wanted.

But you didn’t want to. You knew what he was doing, and you wanted to feel him, wanted to feel what you did to him.

And you wanted to explore the strange shape of his cock.

“Feel what you do to me, koshechka,” Bucky growled, placing your palm on his cock and you sucked in a sharp breath of surprise at the feeling of it.

Your fingers circled the base of his cock and ran up the length, feeling the way it swelled and grew bigger as you neared the head. It was so thick, you wondered how he would fit inside you, but your body responded to that thought by growing wetter, and you knew you were eager to try to make it fit.

You stroked Bucky’s cock up and down the shaft, feeling the pattern of bumps circling it. They were more complex than you’d thought, more like barbs that caught slightly on your fingers and palm, though not in a painful way. Just in a way that made you shiver and wonder wildly what they would feel like inside you, dragging against your inner walls and stimulating you in a way you’d never felt before…

Suddenly, you were desperate to feel Bucky slide inside you.

“Alpha, please,” you begged on a whine, a need rising up in you that you couldn’t even begin to control. You shifted your grip on Bucky’s cock, pressing him into your panty-covered slit and grinding against him, writhing your hips beneath his large body. “Please fuck me—I need you inside me, alpha, please.”

“Oh fuck,” Bucky grunted, his hips jerking and fucking against your slick panties, his precum leaking from the tip of his cock and making even more of a mess of you. “Are you sure? I really did want to take you out on a date, do things the normal way…”

His frantic words trailed off on a moan when you pressed his cock deeper between your folds, until he was sliding between your puffy pussy lips.

Even through your panties, you could feel the barbs on his cock rubbing against your clit and you let out a needy moan. The fingers of your other hand threaded through his soft brown hair and you pulled him close, until your lips brushed against the shell of his ear.

“You’re a cat shifter who’s been watching me sleep while pretending to be nothing more than my pet for almost a year,” you whispered, and even though you knew you’d have to deal with Bucky’s lie at some point, you weren’t ready yet.

You wanted him, you wanted his cock buried inside you, so you nipped playfully at his earlobe to lighten the mood. Of course, you also thoroughly enjoyed the way his hips rutted between your thighs reflexively, making you giggle softly before you continued on.

“I think we bypassed normal right around the time I brought you home and you decided to stay,” you murmured, a hint of humor in your tone. “We can play out your Halloween coffee shop meet-cute later, but for now, I need you to fuck me, alpha.”

A rumbling growl ricocheted in Bucky’s chest, teasing your skin where you were pressed together. Your nipples hardened further into tight, achy peaks and your pussy gushed between your thighs, reacting to the desire in Bucky’s growl.

“I will take you out later,” he said firmly, “But I’ll always give you what you want, and if you want to be fucked—I’ll fuck you good, koshechka.” Bucky pushed up until he was hovering above you, flashing you a charmingly rakish grin. Then his hands were shoving your panties down over your ass and thighs, moving to pull them off you entirely.

When that was done, Bucky sat back on his haunches and stared at you, laid bare beneath him, your skin swathed in the silvery light of the moonlight and the warm glow of the streetlight outside your window. His piercing blue eyes raked over every inch of bared skin, appreciating you for long, long moments.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty, koshechka,” Bucky murmured distractedly, his hands sliding up your legs and pushing your thighs wide. He stared down at your sopping wet pussy with reverence etched in every line of his face. “Even your pussy is pretty—I just need a little taste.” His last comment was mumbled, like he was talking to himself, just before he ducked down between your legs.

The flat of Bucky’s tongue licked up the full length of your slit, digging into the top until he found your clit. His hot mouth against your cunt had you whining and whimpering, your fingers digging into his soft hair and holding on for dear life. He buried his face into your folds, his tongue licking deep into you and making you moan loudly while he ate you out.

“Fucking hell, koshechka, even your cunt is sweet,” Bucky groaned when he finally came up for air, pressing filthy wet kisses to your quivering thighs. You were close to the edge of your release already, but as much as you wanted to come, you wanted something else more.

“Alpha,” you begged in a whining tone, squirming against Bucky’s big hands that were pinning you to the bed. “Feel so empty.”

Bucky lapped teasingly at your clit, and you could feel his smile against your heated skin. He worked your body until you were writhing harder, squirming harder against his hands to rock into his mouth and grind down on his tongue. Still, it wasn’t enough and you whined louder in a wordless plea.

“C’mon, koshechka, come on my tongue and then I’ll fill you up with my cock,” Bucky murmured into your swollen folds, his command half-muffled against your slick pussy.

Your head thrashed side to side on your pillow and you whimpered, “Alpha,” as you tried to hold on, tried to last until his cock was inside you. But Bucky was determined to feel you come on his mouth.

When he slipped two of his fingers into your drenched hole and stroked a spot deep inside you, the electric shot of pleasure was too much. Your fingers curled so tightly in Bucky’s hair, a distant part of your mind worried you’d yank some of it from his head.

But you couldn’t think about that—not when he was pushing you over the edge and pleasure was crashing through you in an earth-shattering orgasm.

A silent scream caught in your throat as your whole body went rigid, ecstasy pulsing through your limbs while Bucky kept fucking you with his fingers and sucking on your clit. It was nearly overwhelming, how good his mouth and fingers felt, and you let yourself sink into the waves of pleasure as they washed over you.

You were still twitching with the remnants of your release when Bucky crawled up your body, his mouth kissing your belly and your ribs, pausing to flick his tongue over each of your nipples, then the hollow of your throat. Finally, his lips found yours and he kissed you passionately, making you moan as you tasted yourself on his tongue.

“Can you taste how sweet you are, koshechka?” he murmured against your mouth while he rubbed the length of your cock through your slick folds. The barbs were catching on your clit, making your hips twitch as you dragged in desperate gasps of air. “Sweet as a Halloween treat.”

Bucky pressed another kiss to your lips even as you huffed a little laugh.

“I see how it is,” you muttered, a little bitterness seeping into your tone. “You play a trick on me and you still get a treat?” You didn’t quite know where the words came from, but it seemed you weren’t doing so well at putting off dealing with the fact that Bucky had hidden his true self from you for almost a year.

It was annoying that the betrayal you felt was raising its ugly head before you’d even gotten to feel his cock inside you, but you supposed it had something to do with the deeply satisfied feeling of coming on his tongue. Still, you were embarrassed enough by your blurted, bitter question that you turned your head to the side, trying to hide in your pillow.

Bucky hovered above you, and you could see the serious expression on his face out of the corner of your eye. He gently grabbed your chin and turned you back to look at him, holding your gaze with his own.

“I’m sorry for lying to you for so long, koshechka,” he said, his tone entirely genuine. You could even see remorse simmering in his blue eyes. “I was selfish, and afraid you wouldn’t like me as much like this.” He gestured at himself, indicating his human form.

That made you huff a laugh and roll your eyes a little before catching Bucky’s gaze again. “How could I not like you like this?” you asked, cupping his handsome face in your hands. Your nails raked lightly through his scruff, and he closed his eyes as a soft purr started in his chest. “But I’m going to need time to forgive you for lying.”

Bucky’s mouth pulled into a bittersweet smile and he nodded his head, his eyes opening again.

“I understand,” he murmured, turning his head to press a kiss into your palm. “I’ll earn your trust back, I promise,” he vowed, staring deep into your eyes, as if willing you to believe him.

Your lips curved in a small smile and you tipped your head up, pulling him in for a brief kiss. It was little more than a brushing of lips, but you felt the determination in the rigid line of Bucky’s shoulders. You ghosted your lips along Bucky’s jaw, sucking playfully at his skin as you tried to lighten the mood.

“I still need you to fuck me, alpha,” you purred in Bucky’s ear, your thighs spreading wider beneath his hips, his cock pressing deeper between your still soaking folds.

“Fuck, fuck,” he groaned, his hips moving on instinct until the tip of his cock was pressed to your tight hole. But he stopped himself from pushing inside, instead pausing to ask you, “Are you sure, koshechka?”

Your heart thumped harder in your chest at Bucky’s question, but you knew what you wanted. “Yes, alpha—please.”

Your final word was a broken plea, and it seemed Bucky didn’t need to be begged again. He pushed forward, sinking slowly into your tight, warm pussy with a tortured groan. The head pushed inside you, then the thick bulge of his cock, and every additional inch felt like a revelation.

“You feel so fucking good, koshechka,” he rumbled, his low, gravelly voice sinking into your skin and making you shiver. “Feel so fucking perfect.”

You didn’t have the breath to respond, but you shared his sentiment. The thick bulge of his cock stretched your tight hole to its limit, and you sighed in pleasure when he was finally buried deep. It was a little odd, the feeling of his inhuman cock inside you, but it felt perfect, too.

For a moment, Bucky paused while he was fully impaled in your cunt. His arms curled around your body, and yours wound around his shoulders. You clung to each other, your chests rising and falling together as your hearts beat in tandem beneath your ribs.

“Talk to me, koshechka, are you ok?” Bucky asked softly, his face pressed into the crook of your neck. He nuzzled into you, his scruffy face tickling your skin while a soft purr kicked to life in his chest.

Your body relaxed beneath Bucky’s large form and you nodded, trying to catch your breath a little before answering.

“Yes, alpha, ‘m ok,” you mumbled in throaty voice, your fingers stroking idly through Bucky’s hair at the back of his head. His purr grew stronger, vibrating through you and your inner walls clenched around Bucky’s stiff length, pleasure pulsing through you at the wild, unusual sensation of his cock inside you. “So full.”

“Mm, your tight cunt feels good around my cock,” Bucky murmured in agreement, kissing up your neck until he could brush his lips against your sweaty temple. His scruffy jaw tickled your cheek and you squirmed lazily, a grin spreading across your face. “Feels like you were made for me—fuck, you were made for me, weren’t you koshechka?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed languidly, rocking your hips experimentally and feeling the slight drag of Bucky’s cock inside you, the barbs making your breath catch as delicious pleasure jolted through your body. Distractedly, you asked, “Do shifters mate?”

Bucky tensed above you, and your mind sharpened, focusing on his reaction and the way he was hiding his face in the pillow beside your head.

“James Bucky Barnes,” you growled in warning. He’d lied to you for almost a year, hiding his human identity from you while pretending to be nothing more than your pet, and you’d be damned if you let him keep lying to you. And you knew he was hiding something from you, his reaction to your question made that perfectly clear.

“Yes, we can scent our compatible mate,” he admitted on a gusting exhale, his voice muffled in the pillow.

You licked your lips as you processed that revelation. Unbidden, all the times that night that Bucky had told you how sweet you tasted, how deeply he’d breathed in your scent—and how good his wild scent smelled to you—came to mind. It seemed only natural that your next question was, “And, am I…?”

“Yes,” he said quickly, cutting you off before you could even finish your question. “You’re mine. I’m yours.”

His words were slightly less muffled by his face buried in the pillow, and you were suddenly frustrated by the fact that you couldn’t see him. You pushed against his shoulder and twisted your hips until he obliged your wordless request and rolled onto his back, taking you with him.

Your knees dug into the soft mattress on either side of Bucky’s hips and you pushed yourself up with your hands planted firmly on his hard chest. Bucky’s piercing eyes were looking up at you warily, his hands settling lightly on your hips, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch you anymore.

“How long have you known?” you asked on a whisper, watching him carefully.

“Since you found me in the bucket,” he confessed with a sheepish wince. “I scented it immediately, especially since I was in my cat form.”

Reflexively, your nails dug into Bucky’s skin as frustration surged through you. “Were you ever going to tell me?” you asked in a harsher tone.

“I had a plan,” Bucky said, but his tone was apologetic, like he knew it wasn’t a good enough answer.

For a long moment, you stared down at the man between your thighs. Your mate, apparently.

Despite how much you knew you should be, you couldn’t find it in yourself to be angry that he’d held back this particular aspect of his shifter identity. Even knowing it, you didn’t feel like you truly understood what it meant to be Bucky’s mate.

And if you were being honest with yourself, after everything he’d told you that night, you were a little tired of the revelations.

It probably would’ve been better if things had gone according to Bucky’s plan. You’d have met him in your favorite coffee shop and slowly gotten to know him—the real him—and he’d have opened up to you when you were both ready. If things had gone that way, you would’ve been able to learn about him being a shifter and your mate at an easier pace.

Instead, you’d been thrust into all this shifter stuff, and Bucky had tried his best to not overwhelm you too much. You couldn’t fault him for that. In fact, you appreciated it. The night had been a lot, and you suddenly knew exactly what you needed from him.

Heaving a heavy sigh, you lay down on Bucky’s chest so your head rested on his shoulder.

“Can you purr for me, alpha?” you asked in a small voice, craving the comfort of the rumbling sensation.

Bucky’s purr kicked to life an instant later, giving you exactly what you asked for. You let yourself sink into the comfort and pleasure his purring offered, allowing yourself to relax. His cock was still buried deep inside you, and even that felt good—it felt right.

“What else do you need, koshechka?” Bucky asked softly, concern in his tone. His hand stroked tentatively up and down your spine and you smiled into his chest, melting further into his chest. “Tell me, and I’ll do everything in my power to give it to you.”

“I think I want to follow the plan,” you said, realizing it was what you wanted only as you said the words. “I want to try things your way, the ‘normal’ way.” You said those final words a little wryly, but your tone was otherwise genuine. Turning your face up so you could catch Bucky’s eye, you let a little smirk flirt around the corner of your mouth. “After you fuck me.”

Bucky’s eyes heated as they dropped to your mouth, but his hands still felt uncertain on your hips. “Are you sure, koshechka?” His big hand cupped your face, his thumb stroking over your cheek and your eyes fluttered closed at the comfort of the gesture. “I’d understand if you never wanted to see me again.”

At that, your eyes flew open and you glared at Bucky. “That is the last thing I want,” you spit out fiercely, surprised at how strongly you reacted to the idea of never seeing Bucky again. You took a moment, closing your eyes to gather yourself and opened them again to fix Bucky with a firm stare. “Tonight has been a lot, but I want to come on your cock, and then I wanna take the time to get to know you, to see how things go, to do things the normal way.”

A smirk curled the corner of Bucky’s mouth. “I thought we bypassed normal a year ago,” he commented, echoing your earlier words.

It seemed like the most natural thing in the world to lean up and kiss the smirk off Bucky’s face, so that’s exactly what you did.

He groaned into your kiss, his hands tightening on your hips and urging you to rock against him. You broke away from the kiss, unable to bite back the filthy groan that tumbled from your lips at the sensation of his cock shifting inside you.

You could feel the gentle drag of every barb on his cock, the dulled points clinging to your inner channel and making you moan loudly. Your body moved on its own, lifting up Bucky’s cock, needing to feel more of that sensation. Once only the head remained inside your warmth, you shoved yourself down, wringing a delighted screech from your lips while Bucky groaned ferociously.

“Fuck, koshechka,” Bucky grunted, his big hands kneading your ass while you lifted up again and slammed back down. “Use me—use me for your pleasure.” His voice was breathless, and as you stared down at him, you watched his face contort with pleasure.

You lifted up, planting your hands on his pecs and set a slow, hard pace, lifting yourself up slowly before slamming down hard on his cock, grinding into the base before doing it all over again.

Before long, you were both panting and sweating, and your whines grew louder as your body begged more.

Bucky seemed to know exactly when you’d reached your limit of having control, and he wrapped his hands more tightly around your waist, holding you above him while he took over, drilling into your cunt from below.

The bulge of his length and the barbs were unlike anything you’d ever felt before, and it was only a few breathless moments before you were teetering on the edge of your second release.

“Can I come, alpha?” you gasped on a whimpering whine. Your fingernails were digging into the plush padding on his stomach, pressing hard enough to feel the firm muscle beneath, delighting when his abs twitched at the same time as his cock inside you.

A purr began in Bucky’s chest and he caught your eye, a slow smile spreading across his face.

“Does my sweet koshechka want my permission to come?” he purred, staring at you with lazy, half-lidded eyes while he pounded up into you. “Do you need your alpha’s command to come on my cock?”

“Yes, alpha, please—please command me to come,” you whimpered, your whole body trembling with your need for release. But you found you truly needed him to say it, to tell you to come, before you could do so. You didn’t know if that was a shifter thing, a mate thing or a you and Bucky thing, but in that moment, you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

Bucky fucked you harder, thrusting up so hard that your tits were bouncing with the force. A growl tore through his chest, and you felt his pleasure in the sound, knowing instinctively that he was pleased with the sight of you bouncing on his cock.

“Come, koshechka—come all over your alpha’s fat cock,” he snarled, just before wrapping a hand around the back of your neck and dragging you down to his chest. His mouth found the curve of your neck, where your throat met your shoulder, and he bit down, his teeth sinking deep into your skin.

You came with a yowling scream, the slight sting of pain from Bucky’s blunt teeth mixing with the blistering pleasure of his cock until you were swept away in a torrent of ecstasy. You shattered apart on his cock, your pussy pulsing and gripping him hard, dragging him over the edge after you.

Bucky came with a groan that was half-muffled against your shoulder, his cock twitching inside you as he spilled his hot seed deep in your belly. His moan morphed into a stuttering purr as he fucked you through the aftershocks of both your releases, until you collapsed on top of him with a satisfied exhale.

One of Bucky’s hands smoothed up and down your spine comfortingly while the other was still wrapped around the back of your neck. He finally pulled away from your shoulder, his tongue lapping at the deep indents he’d left in your skin.

Strangely, some part of you was disappointed that his teeth hadn’t broken skin. But the feeling of his tongue on the mark he’d left, his cock still throbbing in your pussy, and his hand stroking you softly were all too good to focus on that twinge of disappointment. You pushed it aside and promised yourself you’d ask Bucky about it later.

Exhaustion was tugging at the edges of your consciousness and you could feel yourself slipping back to sleep. It didn’t help that Bucky dragged the blankets back over your cooling bodies, wrapping you up in a warmth that felt like it sank deep into your bones and curled closely around your heart.

“Rest, koshechka,” Bucky urged, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’ll see you at your coffee shop later—I’ll be the one wearing clothes.”

You would’ve laughed, but you were already falling back to sleep.

On the morning of Halloween, you woke with a pleasant tingling between your thighs, and an excessive amount of wetness trickling from your slit. You got up and cleaned yourself up, not too surprised that your Russian Blue didn’t make an appearance as you got ready for the day.

Your nighttime escapades felt too real for you to even begin to try to convince yourself it was a dream, though you did find yourself missing the soft pitter-patter of your pet’s feet padding across your apartment. You paused in the middle of your living room, feeling a little bit of loneliness creep in as you listened and heard no sign of life in your home.

Shaking your head, you reminded yourself that you weren’t going to be lonely without Bucky the cat—because Bucky the man was waiting for you.

With that thought in your head, you nearly skipped down the street to your regular coffee shop.

It was a cute little storefront nestled in between a hair salon and a plant store. The employees had put up decorations for Halloween, including a string of paper bats and little pumpkins in the windows. Inside, there were even more fall decorations, and the scent of coffee was cut with cinnamon and nutmeg.

You scanned the tables, but didn’t see Bucky, so you got in line to order. A moment later, you felt a presence behind you and you somehow knew it was him, even before his scent washed over you and his hand settled gently against your lower back as he came to stand beside you.

“Good morning, koshechka,” he murmured, ducking to press a kiss to your cheek.

You gave him a quick once-over, seeing that he cleaned up nice in the light of day, wearing a soft sweater, dark jeans and a warm-looking leather jacket. His breath smelled minty like he’d brushed his teeth, and his skin felt clean and fresh, as if he’d showered. But he’d kept the scruff on his face, and you couldn’t help but be glad for it as it tickled your cheek, a smile curving your lips.

“Good morning, Bucky,” you said, staring up at him, a little surprised at how easy it seemed to be to fall into step beside him as the line moved forward.

Still, you couldn’t seem to drag your eyes away from his face. He truly was the most handsome man you’d ever seen, and you let your eyes roam greedily over the planes of his face that were so much easier to see in the daylight. You didn’t think you’d ever get tired of looking at Bucky’s face.

“Can I buy you a coffee?” Bucky asked, dragging you from your thoughts. His hand was moving soothingly in a small circle on your lower back, and you could feel the warmth of him even through your jacket.

“Yes, please,” you said sweetly.

When it was your turn to order, you got a hot latte, while Bucky got a chai. He helped you out of your coat and pulled out a chair for you at one of the small tables, then retrieved your latte from the counter before he settled into the seat across from you.

The barista had drawn a ghost with the foam on top of your drink and you smiled down at it, wrapping your cold fingers around the warm cup as you considered where to start.

“So,” you began, lifting your eyes to Bucky—taking in the soft sweater that stretched across his broad shoulders, his jacket draped over the back of his chair, before catching his eye. A smirk curved your lips. “Tell me about yourself.”

A slow, answering smile curled the edges of Bucky’s mouth and he leaned forward, planting his arms on the table in a mirror of your posture. When he spoke, his voice was low, a delicious gruffness to it that tingled all the way through you, down to the tips of your toes.

“Well, I’ve had a bit of an unusual life,” he began, catching your eye and holding your gaze with his own sparkling blues. “I served in the army with my best friend, came back, didn’t really know what to do with myself—until I met a pretty girl who took me in and showed me what it’s like to be loved.”

Your heart thumped excitedly in your chest at Bucky’s final word even as your breath lodged in your throat. “Oh really?” you asked softly, swallowing thickly before you continued. “That sounds like an interesting story.”

“Mm, I’ll say,” Bucky said, his eyes roving hungrily over your face. After a beat of silence, he seemed to have a thought, leaning in further and dropping his voice lower. “Can I tell you something?”

“Anything,” you said on an exhale, mesmerized by the affection swirling in Bucky’s eyes and the way his mouth curved at the edges when he smiled.

“I’m excited to show her what it’s like to be loved by me,” Bucky murmured.

His words had the same effect as his purr, making you melt as you smiled across the table at him. “I’m excited for that, too,” you admitted softly.

Bucky’s smile widened, and your eyes dropped to his mouth. You wanted to kiss him so badly in that moment, but you also wanted to stick to his plan to take things slow.

Taking a deep breath, you sat back from the table, giving yourself some space away from the intoxicatingly wild scent of Bucky and lifted your cup to your mouth. You hummed in delight at the taste of the drink, closing your eyes as you savored the rich flavor.

A choked sound came from across the table and you opened your eyes to see heat simmering in Bucky’s eyes.

“Are you trying to torture me, koshechka?” he asked in a low rumble.

You snickered and hid a smirk behind your cup before taking another sip and setting it down on the table. Tossing your head, you looked up at Bucky from under your lashes.

“It’s the least you deserve for the little Halloween trick you played on me,” you teased. You slid your tongue along your lower lip, licking up the last bit of your coffee, smirking when Bucky groaned quietly.

“If I behave, d’you think I’ll get a little Halloween treat?” Bucky asked, waggling his brows so suggestively, you tipped your head back with a laugh.

“We’ll see,” you said with what you hoped was an enigmatic smile.

Leaning across the table, Bucky ran his thumb over the corner of your mouth and when he pulled away, you saw a little bit of foam on his finger. He popped it into his mouth, making your eyes narrow on the way his tongue flicked against the pad of his thumb, your core tightening as you remembered the things that tongue had done to you the night before.

“I’ll take whatever you want to give, koshechka,” Bucky murmured, his tone thick with emotion and desire, and you knew he was talking about more than just your body. His piercing eyes pinned you with an intense stare, and you held his gaze determinedly.

The tension eased when Bucky looked away, his hand reaching across the table, palm up, waiting patiently for you. After a brief moment of hesitation, you slid your fingers into his palm, and your hands folded together. Warmth spread through your body and curled up deep in your heart as Bucky caught your eye again, both of you smiling at each other.

For the next hour, you sat at that little table in your favorite coffee shop with Bucky, getting to know him and learning more about his life. You discovered he had a best friend named Steve Rogers who’d been watching his apartment for the last year while he’d been living with you. He was the friend Bucky had served in the army with and he told you plenty of stories from their childhood.

At the end of your date, Bucky gave you his phone number, and texted you before you’d even gotten home to plan another outing. All day, you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face, and you couldn’t help your thoughts from wandering back to your Russian Blue shifter.

Bucky had given you a Halloween trick and a Halloween treat, and he was giving you the space you needed to wrap your head around everything. Still, you couldn’t wait to see him again, to continue getting to know him, and to learn everything there was to know about him and what he was.

Over the months that followed Halloween, you and Bucky went on plenty of dates, taking things slow. But it wasn’t too long before you dragged him back to your apartment, needing to feel him again—all of him. Like he’d wanted, you slept in his shirt that night, and he purred happily, telling you how much it meant to him for you to smell like him.

That night, you fell asleep curled up in Bucky’s arms the way he’d slept for so many nights when you’d thought he was only a cat. And it was the first night of many that you slept in your bed together with Bucky in his human form.

Eventually, Bucky officially moved in, and you learned what it meant to be mated to a shifter, though Bucky didn’t give you your mating bite until you’d been dating for a few years. He’d said he wanted to do things the normal way, and apparently that was normal for shifters, even though you were practically begging him to mate you by the time he obliged.

Although your relationship with Bucky began in a very strange way, you took the time together to truly get to know each other. He showed remorse for hiding from you for so long and worked to gain your trust. By the time the two of you were mated, you knew he was the one for you.

James Bucky Barnes was the one you would’ve chosen even if you hadn’t woken up to him sleeping naked in your bed on that fateful Halloween night.

halloween fics masterlist

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #shifter bucky barnes #shifter au #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes imagine #sebastian stan #sebastian stan characters #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan smut #halloween fic #witchywithwhiskeywork

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ronearoundblindly · 3 months ago

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weird crack fic thought this morning:

what if Bucky's little best friend/feline, Alpine, is a shapeshifter who's too afraid to become human again?

he's just so moody and broken like she is, and it's too nice to have someone who simply talks to her and takes care of her. he expects nothing, not even the comfort she so willingly gives (and takes), but they always are respectful and find their way back.

ok, now what if Alpine only considers changing back to human form when she falls in love with Steve, the utterly awkward guy who might be mildly afraid of her because he can't get her to do 'soft paws' like Bucky can. every time Steve spends the night at Buck's, she snuggles up to Steve (which Bucky finds highly amusing). there's a certain sort of adoration in her gaze and a sweet territorial fervor in the way she stretches all across his body.

what would make her break to reveal she's a shifter? would she tell Bucky first? how many times does she try before getting it right?

ANYWAY, happy thursday, I guess...

#steve rogers imagine #bucky barnes imagine #alpine the cat #shifter romance #shapeshifter #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers x female reader #alpine the shapeshifter

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buckyalpine · 1 year ago

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Shapeshifting Bucky

Random thought from the depths of crackfic hell. But imagine an AU where Bucky's time with hydra also included the ability to shape shift on top of his super soldier serum. He can turn into whatever but he really only shifts into a wolf most of the time. Stealthy, huge, strong, agile and an absolute puppy. Werewolf Bucky is the scariest mf to exist. In his wolf form, his fur is nearly jet black, a stark contrast to his beautiful blue eyes. His teeth turn into sharp fangs and his claws could slash through just about anything.

However.

The large furry thing is nothing but a little puppy around you.

Human Bucky struggles to show his affection for you even though he loves you like crazy. He loves touching you but hesitates to do anything. Wolf Bucky has 0 issue hopping onto the sofa he doesn't fit on, attempting to curl up in your lap. He doesn't fit on your lap either and you end up drowning under a heavy mass of dark fur, the chuff he makes as you adjust himself is equivalent to his usual pouty face.

How dare you try and squirm away when he wants pets and cuddles.

And honestly, he's pretty irresistible. Even Tony's found himself petting the soft fur when he walks by, scrunching his face when he realizes who he's petting and cursing to himself immediately after. It's not just Tony either. Most of the Avengers catch themselves mid pet, occasionally shrugging and going back in while shaking their heads at themselves.

That isn't the only thing wolf Bucky enjoys.

“Bucky!” You stare at your boyfriend who was a human last time you left him, now in his wolf form sitting on top of your duffle bag you'd packed for an upcoming mission. There's no way for you to get to it, sitting as its hidden underneath him and it doesn't look like he has any plans on moving. He growls when you try and get closer, daring for you to try and leave when you just got back from a mission earlier in the week.

"Baby, I have to go, you gotta get off" You try to reason with him but he just stares at you with piercing blue eyes. By now you can read his body language and he's not hearing any of it.

Don't think so, stay with me

"C'mon, you know I'll be back soon" You gently scratch the top of his head and he nuzzles into your palm. He tiled his head to the side widening his gaze as best as he could and you couldn't help but giggle at how cute he looked, silently pleading with you.

"Aww, don't give me those puppy eyes Barnes, that's not fair" You coo while he lets out a whine, huffing and resting his head on his front large paws until his ears perk up with a bright idea.

"For fucks sake Bucky!" You laugh incredulously when he picks up the bag with his teeth, shaking the clothes out and burying himself under them, happy to be surrounded by your scent and finding another way to keep you there.

"What’s going on" Steve walked by the room, wondering why you hadn't come to the jet yet, eyes growing wide when he saw what his best friend was up to "What the hell"

"Oh my god" Sam looked over Steve's shoulder, snorting at the way Bucky was now half asleep while you were still in your tac suit but your bag now nearly torn to bits. You shrugged, deciding to give up, looking at the over grown puppy waiting for a belly rub, giving the two men an apologetic smile.

Bucky snuggled happily on top of your clothes, his nose nudging into your hoodie, before closing his eyes, ears twitching contently while your on the phone with Fury, coming up with a lame excuse as to why you couldn't join.

Some other things I imagine for wolf Bucky:

He's the cutest thing ever. Sam nicknamed him Sirius Black and he loves it.

Loves eating meat. Eats a lot in general.

Fiercely loyal

Likes to go on walks

I'm sorry for this, I have a headache, instead of taking an Advil and sleeping, I'm out here giving into my ridiculousness, I'll see myself out.

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buckrecs · 1 year ago

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𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙩 𝙛𝙞𝙘 𝙧𝙚𝙘 : 𝙅𝙪𝙡𝙮 ~ 𝙎𝙚𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙢𝙗𝙚𝙧

masterlist | monthly fic rec masterlist

FLUFF

Puppy Eyes by @coffee-with-bucky

look at me by @aquariusbarnes

The Pull of Gravity by @navybrat817 (shifter au)

The Rejects by @/navybrat817

A Little Less Restless by @majestyeverlasting

The Sleepover by @littleredwolf

An Ol’ Fashioned Notion of Wartime and Whisky by @rookthorne

Honeyed Words of a She by @/rookthorne (mob!reader)

A Stroke of Luck by @/rookthorne (lumberjack!bucky)

Serenity by @/rookthorne (Mafia!reader)

A Clover’s Intuition by @/rookthorne (lumberjack!bucky)

Ducks on Plaster by @lovelybarnes

the great shirt debate by @rocketrhap3000

Barbie by @buckyalpine

Imagine | 2 by @noctumbra (chubby!bucky)

Don’t Tell Bucky by @lives-in-midgard

closer by @eviesaurusrex

bucky getting used to modern crap by @bucky-bucket-barnes

Around My Neck by @mcu1shots

These Hands Are Meant To Hold by @vanderlustwords

Timeless by @antiquarianfics

You Have A Girlfriend? by @/antiquarianfics

Something to Smile About by @jobean12-blog

Found Waldo by @lovelybarnes

Unchained Melody by @delusionalvenusian

valentine by @softlyspector

The Way We Were by @avintagekiss24

Midnight Escapades by @kiritella

Stunt Double by @/kiritella

Sleep and Cuddles by @/kiritella

Flowers And Things by @espinosaurusrexex

Little Mermaid by @buckyarchives

cuppa coffee by @irndad

A touch of color by @starrysebastians

Smooth Criminal by @redgillan (officer!bucky)

ANGST

Verbal Fight by @espinosaurusrexex

Tommy’s Party by @bucknastysbabe (college au)

Rescue You by @writing-for-marvel

not my one by @stxrvel (steve x reader)

Imagine by @/buckyalpine

One Night by @/buckyalpine

ours by @trashywormeateroffics

give me a minute by @amayatheowl

Seasons Change & I Carry You With Me by @/vanderlustwords

The Truth Is; I’m A Liar by @imtryingmyfuckingbest

Better Than Us by @/antiquarianfics

The Rain Will Always Gonna Come if You’re Standing With Me by @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky

Love Me… by @/kiritella

You could never hurt me by @theeleggymeggy

SMUT

braid my hair, honey by @witchywithwhiskey

finally by @adrinktostopyourthirst (spy!reader)

cherry blossom by @noctumbra (librarian!bucky)

virgin mob bucky by @/buckyalpine

Take the edge off by @bitsandbobsandstuff

Hayloft by @wienerbarnes (40s au)

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moonythejedi394 · 3 months ago

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nobody asked for this snippet and nobody deserves it either

The pups start to settle. Steve is distracted by his hunger and weariness and the weight of his season blooming, however. As he's tucking in one of the two-year-olds, a draft comes through the nursery.

Steve looks up and sees the door open.

"Oh, no," he whispers.

He quickly runs outside. He sees small footprints heading towards the center of the village. Steve shuts the door behind him, making sure it latches, and then hastens in the wake of the footprints.

One of the five-year-olds has reached the edge of the party and is trying to sneak food. Steve runs up behind them and snatches them up.

"No!" they wail. "Mama!"

"You're going to get us both in so much trouble!" Steve snaps at the pup, who begins to cry.

Steve tries to get away before the noise attracts attention, but he never has good luck.

"Oh, gods, no," Peggy gasps as she sees them, "Steven! You ungrateful little wench, what do you think you're doing?!"

"I –” Steve tries to begin.

"The dragon is going to see you!" Jasper snaps, hurrying up to usher Steve away. "You'll ruin everything!"

"It's not my fault!" Steve says desperately.

"Liar!" Dolores accuses, snatching the wailing child from his arms. "I'll take the poor thing to their mama."

"They ran out!" Steve insists.

"Get back to the nursery!" Peggy snaps at him.

A shadow falls over Steve and the two irate Omegas. Steve turns slowly towards the fire and his eyes go wide.

The dragon stands before them, his face darkened around the eyes with black paint. He is still shirtless and now Steve can see that he is also barefoot; he wears only a heavy fur tasset and wide belt and braces on his forearms and calves. He stands head and shoulders above the Omegas and Steve barely sees Chief Alpha Garrett and Alpha Rumlow standing behind him, their eyes just barely on level with his shoulders.

Steve just blinks up at the dragon. The top of his head barely matches the dragon’s solar plexus.

"My apologies, good sir," Chief Alpha Garrett says as he hastens to stand between Steve and the dragon. "This child is an orphan, rescued from another pack. He's meant to be resting in our nursery with the other pups."

The dragon pushes Chief Alpha Garrett aside. Garrett stumbles from the force of the dragon's hand. Jasper and Peggy shrink away, their eyes wide. Steve is frozen where he stands, hands gripped close to his chest.

"There you are," the dragon murmurs in a deep, gravely voice. “Finally.”

Steve can only blink and gawk.

"My friend," Garrett starts.

The dragon throws up a hand, immediately causing Garrett to fall silent. The dragon takes another step nearer to Steve, coming so close that there's hardly a finger's length between them and Steve has to crane his neck to look up at him. The dragon stares down at him and somehow, Steve can see the fire reflected in his eyes.

"Do you know how long I've been looking for you, little one?" the dragon says softly.

The dragon touches Steve's face with a gentle hand. Steve sucks in a gasp, his whole body shuddering at once. Not from fear or even arousal, but at the sheer heat emanating from the dragon's hand and how utterly chilled to the bone Steve is. He impulsively grabs the dragon's wrist, clinging to him to hold him in place. His eyes are wide as he looks up at the dragon.

"You can call me Bucky, sweet boy," the dragon says. "What is your name?"

Steve jolts; he starts to stammer, unsure how to respond as his brain starts whizzing with want and need and cold and so hungry just at being called sweet. No one has ever called him something so nice.

"What is his name?" the dragon – Bucky – says to Chief Alpha Garrettt.

"His name is not important," Garrettt says hastily. "Sir, I assure you, this is not the one you are looking for, this child is infertile, defective. He isn't truly an Omega."

"Did I ask what you think of him?" Bucky growls. "I asked what his name is."

"It's Steve," Steve whispers.

Bucky's eyes snap back to his. Steve is frozen in place still, heart hammering in surprise at the sound of his own voice. Bucky smiles, lips curling away from his teeth to show sharp fangs, longer and more pointed than any wolf's.

"What a pretty name for a pretty Omega, Steve," Bucky murmurs.

Bucky takes Steve's hands, then. He lifts them and tucks his nose into Steve's wrists. He inhales deeply and Steve gasps, ears and cheeks flaming hot as his body responds with immediate need in his lower belly.

"It seems I've arrived just in time," Bucky says in nearly a growl. "Don't worry, my pet, it won't take long to reach my mountain. You should pack your things now."

"What?" Alpha Rumlow snaps as Steve’s eyes widen. "Barnes, you can't possibly be serious! Don't you see what he is!"

"I see that he is beautiful," Bucky says in an abrupt snarl as he twists around to look at Rumlow. "I see that he is perfect in every single way the gods could have intended. And I can damn well also see that he's fucking starving! Go fetch him something to eat!"

Rumlow gulps and looks to Garrett. Steve also looks to Garrett, positively mortified. Garrett clears his throat.

"My Lord," Garrett says with great humility, a tone Steve's never heard from him, and Bucky turns to look at him. "Not that I doubt your senses, but perhaps you are tired. You have been traveling a very long time, after all. Possibly the treasure you've been tracking is simply near Steve?"

"It sounds like you doubt my senses," Bucky snaps. "Do you think I would be able to follow a scent trail across ten thousand miles and then not be able to pinpoint it once it is right under my nose?!"

Steve looks hopelessly to Peggy, silently begging her to explain to him what's happening. Peggy doesn't even notice him.

"You're tired," Garrett tries again.

Bucky growls at him. Garrett shuts his mouth with a snap, his face going red. He looks like an Alpha pup that's been snapped at with his sire's Alpha voice. Steve is amazed.

Bucky turns his gaze back on Steve. He tucks both of Steve's hands into one of his, easily covering both with his large palm, and once again brushes a gentle hand against Steve's cheek. Steve gulps.

"I'll have them give you something to tide you over for the flight home," he says. "I can imagine you will have no fond memories of this place, yes?"

"Um," Steve whispers, his voice barely leaving his throat.

"What is it, sweetheart?" Bucky asks.

"I –” Steve begins. "I'm –”

He stops again, just shaking his head. Bucky cups his chin. Steve feels the cold all over the rest of his body and then he feels a strong urge to dive into Bucky's arms. He's sure it will feel like in his dreams. Bucky puts out heat like a fire. And of course, he does. He's a dragon.

"Yes, baby?" Bucky prompts.

Steve shakes his head jerkily. "I don't understand," he croaks out.

"What don't you understand?" Bucky asks calmly.

Steve blinks several times. He glances over at Chief Alpha Garrett, but he's never gotten help from him before and has no idea why he anticipates it now. He looks back to Bucky, who is frowning.

"Do you have a chosen Alpha already?" Bucky asks, his voice nearly begging for Steve to answer no.

"Of course not," Steve blurts. "Why –? Why are you asking that?"

Bucky relaxes into a smile and he chuckles. He steps even nearer and Steve sucks in a breath. Bucky bends low at the waist and tucks his forehead against Steve's. Steve struggles to control his breathing, but now all he can smell is Bucky; a rich, sweet smoke and enticing Alpha musk and sweat. Steve feels lightheaded.

"I would hate for my treasure to be promised to another Alpha," Bucky murmurs to him. "That would be… Unpleasant."

"Treasure?" Steve repeats in a whisper.

"Yes," Bucky answers. "Your pack chief tells me that your people call their treasures their mates instead."

Steve's eyes go very wide.

"No," he whispers. "No, no, I'm dreaming. This is a cruel, awful dream!"

"It's not a dream, honey," Bucky says quickly, his hand now moving around Steve's back, enveloping him in such warmth. "I'm here, I'm really here, baby, I promise."

Steve just shakes his head. Bucky frowns down at him.

"My Lord," Garrett cuts in. "I'm very sorry to tell you this, but Steven – Steven is a runt, he cannot be mated!"

"Did anyone ask you?" Bucky snarls at Garrett, flashing his teeth at him as his eyes glow orange. "Is this how you've treated my treasure all these years? Starving him, insulting him, demeaning him!"

"Certainly not!" Garrett answers with some aggression, though it seems childish in the face of Bucky's. "He is our nursery-maid, we keep him well and we care for him like one of our own!"

Steve feels tears pricking at his eyes. So this is how Garrett will save the pack from losing the opportunity to have dragons born into it. Convincing the dragon that Steve is some abandoned child from far away rather than born in the same village as everyone else.

Bucky whips around, ignoring Garrett, and he lets out a soft coo as he looks into Steve's eyes. Steve sucks in a shaking breath, trying to control himself.

"Don't cry, my sweet, don't cry," Bucky whispers to him. "I'm going to take you away from these horrible people, you'll never hear a harsh word spoken against you ever again."

Steve shakes his head with a jerk. Bucky frowns and he draws Steve in closer, pressing him against his chest with firm hands at the small of his back, and Steve feels so warm.

"Why do you shake your head like that, darling?" Bucky asks, stroking Steve's cheek. "What's wrong? Do you not want to leave?"

"Of course I do," Steve admits in a hoarse voice. "But – But my chief is right! I'm just a runt, I can't be mated!"

"That's a filthy lie," Bucky says, a growl nearing his voice. "I'll take you to my mountain and show you just how easy it will be for me to bond with you. I can prove it tonight."

"You can't!" Steve insists.

"I can," Bucky says, now actually growling. "What other disgusting lies have they been feeding you? Is that all they've been feeding you? Where's that damn brat with your meal?" he adds, turning around.

Rumlow is still standing behind them.

"I told you to get him something to eat," Bucky growls.

Rumlow jerks and hurries off, like a little mouse. Steve shakes his head.

"Please, lord, you must be making a mistake!" Garrett tries again. "Surely there are other, better Omegas –”

"If I hear you say one more word about my treasure I will cook you where you stand," Bucky snarls at Garrett, smoke even trailing from his lips.

Garrett backs off. He looks defeated.

"He's right!" Steve tries desperately. "You – You must be looking for a different Omega! I can't be your mate!"

Bucky fixes him with a gentle look. Steve feels very brittle all over, like the second Bucky puts him down he will simply shatter into a million pieces.

"I have been tracking your scent for three years," Bucky says softly. "I know exactly who my treasure is, and it's you."

Steve shakes his head. Three years, he thinks. He’d only just presented three years ago. How could Bucky have picked up the scent of your first heat. cups his cheek and touches their foreheads together again.

"My sweet boy," Bucky murmurs, "you've been so badly mistreated. I'm so sorry it took me so long to find you, precious."

"I –” Steve whispers uselessly.

"Your scent is like cinnamon and vanilla and allspice," Bucky murmurs to him. "When you're sad or frightened, it turns into a scent like vodka, like it is now. When you're happy, it's rich and spicy. When you're needy, it's so sweet. I know exactly who you are, Stevie."

Steve blinks away tears. Bucky's hands go to Steve's waist and then he's lifting Steve off his feet. Steve's stomach flips upside down and then he's being tucked into Bucky's firm chest, a beautiful heat wrapping around him and settling into his very blood. Steve shivers anyway. His stomach grumbles in hunger.

"Rumlow!" Bucky calls out. "Hurry up!"

Bucky carries Steve in his arms up to the bonfire, to a bench in front of a large, polished table. Rumlow puts a plate of rabbit stew and bread down in front of Bucky and backs off. Steve looks down at it in awe, not even touching it.

Bucky picks up the bread and offers it to him. Steve's hands tremble as he takes it. He hesitates, however. He knows once Bucky leaves, he will be in so much trouble for taking advantage of this situation. He might be denied food for weeks. They might finally banish him.

Steve has a sudden thought. So what if Bucky is confused by who his mate really is? If he can hold up the pretense long enough for Bucky to take him away, perhaps he'll be allowed to serve in Bucky's household once he finds his true mate.

Steve digs into the bread with abandon. It's so delicious he can't help but groan in appreciation. He can feel every eye of his packmates on him, staring with hatred. He doesn't care. He hates them, too.

"There, pet," Bucky says. "You have some supper and then we can collect your things and leave."

"I don't have anything that belongs to me," Steve tells Bucky, his mouth partially full still. "Not even these clothes, really."

"Don't you have a nest?" Bucky asks.

Steve swallows, feeling shame grip his belly.

"Runts don't nest," he tells Bucky.

"Ridiculous," Bucky answers, however. "I can smell it on you, you've been nesting for weeks, your heat is barely a day away."

"Runts don't have heats," Steve insists, mortified.

Bucky suddenly presses his face into Steve's neck, making him drop the bread as he gasps. Bucky growls softly and Steve feels himself shiver internally.

"You're going into heat, sweetling," Bucky says firmly. "Whether these pieces of shit say you can or not."

Steve, trembling, picks up the bread. He resumes eating it, not wanting to really answer Bucky. He quickly finishes it, but his stomach growls still.

"Here," Bucky says, picking up the plate of stew.

Steve looks at it for a moment, surprised.

"What are you waiting for?" Bucky prompts.

Steve goes to take it, but his hands are shaking so badly he nearly spills all of it. He whines and draws back, pressing into a Bucky's chest and hiding his face.

"Aw, baby, it's alright," Bucky murmurs. "Here."

Bucky puts the plate down, but lifts a spoon and tucks it into the rich stew. He raises it and holds it near Steve's face. Steve slowly lifts his head, then glances at Bucky, eyes wide again.

"Go on," Bucky encourages him.

Steve looks back to the spoon, then grasps Bucky's wrist and opens his mouth, leaning in. Bucky tucks the spoon past his lips and Steve closes them, taking the portion of stew from the spoon and beginning to chew. He moans again, his mouth overwhelmed by the rich flavor of it.

"You sure are hungry," Bucky says with a chuckle.

Steve swallows quickly. "I can stop," he whispers.

"No, no, you don't have to," Bucky answers, cupping Steve's chin again. "I'm sorry, sweetheart, I didn't mean like that. I just meant you must like the stew."

Steve glances at Bucky's face, then away and nods. Bucky leans in and rests his forehead against his temple.

“Eat your stew,” Bucky says softly. “Then, you can get anything that is yours and we can go.”

Steve shakes his head. “Nothing is mine,” he repeats.

Bucky casts a glance over at Alpha Garrett, his lips pressed thinly together. “Well,” he says. “You will want for nothing from now on.”

Steve looks down into the bowl, not sure how to answer. He just eats.

When the bowl is empty, Bucky stands up, still holding Steve.

“Bring me a thick cloak,” he tells Garrett. “We will be leaving now.”

“Please, my lord,” Garrett tries one more time, “at least speak with our unmated Omegas one more time, perhaps –”

“I have found my treasure and I will leave with him,” Bucky snaps. “Bring me a cloak.”

Garrett deflates. If Steve weren’t so worried about what will happen to him once Bucky realizes he can’t be his mate, he’d laugh. Garrett waves to someone, who hurries off. They return with a large, thick cloak a moment later, which Bucky takes.

“Wrap in this, my sweet,” he says. “Then I will pick you up and we’ll leave.”

“Shouldn’t we wait for morning?” Steve asks.

“My home isn’t far by wing,” Bucky says with a smile. “Five or six hours. Get some sleep if you’d like.”

Steve’s eyes widen and he quickly dons the cloak. People begin to back up and Bucky moves into a more open space among the tables. He shakes himself, then cracks his neck. Steve watches, his mouth open in awe, as Bucky exhales a heavy plume of smoke from his nose. His body then begins to shift. A wolf shifts in just a tremble of the body, but Bucky shifts with a roar and a quake that shakes everyone from their footing. His body stretches and extends, his limbs become black and scaled, wings unfold behind him, a massive tail whips out and wolves jump out of the way in fright. The dragon lands on his front feet and growls, looking around.

Steve takes in a deep breath as Bucky approaches, his eyes glowing a light blue. He huffs out smoke and bumps his muzzle into Steve’s shoulder.

Steve reaches out and puts a hand on his snout. Heat comes from him, even more than when he wore skin. Bucky’s gaze meets his and Steve feels almost pinned.

“And you said you couldn’t be my treasure,” Bucky says in a deep voice.

It resonates from inside his chest. Steve almost jumps back.

“Only another dragon or my treasure could hear me like this,” Bucky then says. “Put up your hood, then hold still, little one.”

Bucky rears up onto his hind legs again. Steve quickly puts up his hood and closes his cloak, just in time for Bucky to grab Steve with his claws and launch from the ground.

Steve shouts as they cut into the air. He clings to Bucky’s claws, afraid of falling and the cold, but heat still seeps from Bucky’s limb into Steve, and his claws are cinched tight around him.

Below them, the dim ground speeds by. In seconds, Steve sees the lights of the neighboring village pass underneath, and they’re passing it and then another village.

Steve ducks his head against the biting wind, holding onto Bucky’s large claws. His heart is pounding in his ribs, then he laughs, exhilarated.

He feels Bucky rumbling and figures he’s laughing, too.

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #stucky #captain america #winter soldier #pre serum steve #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #my fic #werewolf #shape shifter #alpha/beta/omega verse #snippet #into the dark #the kept boy

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sunnysideprincess · 7 months ago

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Bucky was supposed to be getting married (to Sam). Instead, he was stuck in his cat form inside a cat shelter.

Luckily, the Cat King-his best mate-was looking for him. Unluckily, this miserable human found him first.

#accidental matchmaker Bucky #cat king au #sambucky #stevetony #deb does art #bucky barnes #sam wilson #cat shifter au #sort of #steve rogers #tony stark #stony #winterfalcon #art

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huffelpuff210 · 9 months ago

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Running Part 3

Dark Themes, Stalking, Kidnapping, forced relationship,

:You've been on the run, You thought you got away but it turns out Bucky is more resilient than you thought.

It had been six months since the incident you have been on the run from the psycho who thought he would keep you as a mate, the guy was insane and he had help, he looked familiar but you didn’t want to know, it took a few hours to loose him and his pack, you covered you’re tracks in the river so they would lose you’re scent, you stayed in the river for a few miles and thankfully it worked, You decided to keep running the look in the man’s eyes told you he wouldn’t give up, No matter what and you needed to keep running.

You escaped the states and now are in Canada, in the snowy regain, You never stayed more than a week somewhere,

You cut you’re long hair it is now just above you’re shoulders You put in blue contacts to mask you’re green eyes, So if they would find you they wouldn’t recolonize you, At least that’s what you hoped would happen.

You were sitting in a cave, Eating some cooked peasant you hunted, In you’re leopard form or human you were an excellent hunter,

You weren’t one for fighting though the night you attacked you’re kidnapper that was you’re leopard did that backed into a corner and she attacked. it was her instinct to attack when you are in danger.

After eating you’re meal, you rested you’re head on the wall of the cave, they snow was falling heavily and You loved it, the wind was blowing, You loved it, the bitter cold never bothered you you welcomed it,

You smile as you look at the snow falling.

You knew it would be hard for them to try to find you in a storm like this, the snow masks you’re scent it covers tracks, And you left no paper trail, You could live you’re entire life off the land and still live happily and comfortably.

That’s when a smell hit you’re nose, and you knew exactly who it was, You quickly got up and ran out in the storm, you knew you had to stay a few steps ahead of him, and you are sure that tigers have a hard time in the snow, since they aren’t built the way you are,

You listen in,

“It’s freaking freezing.” You hear

“Shut up Tony this is for Bucky.” You hear another voice,

“But why the snow and Canada?” You hear another voice

“Just keep going.” You hear Bucky’s voice

You decide to keep going actually running you’re heart pumping a mile a minute, You needed to get away, By any means possible as you ran the snow got heavier and harder to run in, You either had to shift, or hide out somewhere, You couldn’t hear anyone anymore. You were starting to get out of breath which was rare for you.

You look behind you and don’t see anyone You thought you were in the clear when the wind was knocked out of you, You were tackled to the ground into the snow.

“Caught you kitten.” You see Bucky hovering over you You glare at the man knowing you needed to get away by any means possible.

#dark avengers #dark alpha bucky barnes #dark alpha steve rogers x omega reader #mcu smut #marvel #dark bucky x reader #shifters

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gaysindistress · 1 year ago

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Blue Star & a Coyote in love

Pairing: shifter!Bucky x Native American!reader

Summary: Ever the trickster, the coyote shifter named Bucky has fallen hopelessly in love with a woman who will never share his affection.

Warnings: I didn't mean for this to get dark but here we are. violence, death, bucky being Joe Goldberg in the worst way, blood.

Word count: 2.7k

A/n: ahh this is so different from anything else I've posted! I hope that everyone loves it and let me know if anyone wants more of Blue Str and Coyote Bucky.

It's important to note that this is a dark retelling/twist of Native myths about Coyote and that means the reader is Native as are most other characters aside from Bucky. He isn't Native in the MCU and I will not write him as if he were, however, he does take on Coyote the trickster's persona. Coyote is known to go to extreme lengths to get what he wants so to me, it makes sense for him to appear as a white man (aka Bucky) when he wishes.

permanent tag list: @vonalyn @hidden-treasures21 @cakesandtom

gaysindsitress masterlist

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on Google/Pinterest.

Night after night, day after day, dance after dance, the man others called Coyote yearned for me. When the deep red skies and yellow sun gave way to the brilliant blue night sky, he would wait for my sisters and I to emerge. In a clearing, he would lay on his back to admire the way we danced and laughed throughout the night. Never did he try to reach for us or call to us although I knew he wanted to.

I could feel it in the heavy stare that stayed on my back each night. I could see it in the way his lips would part in amazement when I danced alone. I could see it in the way his pale blue eyes twinkled when I looked at him.

My sisters would giggle amongst themselves as we danced across the sky. They’d say things like “once again the blue star outshines us all” or “the coyote has fallen for you, blue star” but it was all in good fun. I knew they did not envy the affection he showed me. He was the Coyote after all, the famed trickster that everyone knew of. He had brought fire, among other things, to earth but also brought the first lie. He had been the hero for some and the great villain to others. He was not a man…no… creature to be trusted so his apparent interest in me didn’t mean anything to me.

All it did was bring me worry and concern when one night he was no longer laying on his back in the clearing.

I freeze when I don’t see him and it causes one of my sisters to fall into me.

“Blue star,” she starts, ready to rip into me for halting our dance but she too freezes when she sees what I saw, “he’s gone?”

I look at her over my shoulder, “he can’t be.”

“Can’t be? Have you grown fond of the trickster?”

“No,” I shake my head as strands of hair that escaped from my two braids blow into my face, “no he is there every night. If he is gone, I fear something must have happened.”

My sister, Yellow Star, rolls her eyes, “to him?”

“No,” I say again, growing frustrated that she is not hearing what I am saying, “I…I don’t know but it’s not good.”

Another sister, our eldest, motions for us to carry on and follow the rest towards the mountain we pass each night. We follow but I keep looking towards the empty clearing as we return to our dancing. A deep unease fills my body as the heavy fabric of my dancing robe bounces around me. The fringe at the bottom hits my legs as if to tell me to “keep moving, keep dancing, forget the Coyote” and I obey.

My sisters are dressed in cream robes with various animals weaved onto their backs. Only I am dressed in a robe made of blues weaved to mimic the night sky however I don’t blend in. Instead I become a shining star for all those to follow when lost at night. My robes and dance give hope to those who cannot find their way. I provide comfort to strangers and family alike as we take our place in the sky.

Soon I forget the dread that has filled my stomach and again I’m laughing with my sisters, twirling and stomping through the clouds. We reach the mountain before I realize and I smile widely at the sight, my sisters sharing a similar look. We descend towards the mountain peak when our youngest sister, Pink Star, lets out a scream of terror. The eldest few race to her, yanking her from the clutches of an unseen force. She cries as she holds her leg, blood spilling from the torn flesh. They surround her as we all land on the mountain and search for the thing responsible.

The dread in my stomach has reached my throat, clasping down with a phantom hand. My feet move without my approval and I find myself walking away from the group, towards the creature that lurks beyond the trees.

Yellow Star grabs my shoulder and gently pulls me back. She gives me a worried look as my eyes stay focused on the tree line.

“I can feel it too,” she whispers to me, “he’s here.”

As if even uttering that calls him, the Coyote’s yellow eyes flash in the black space between the trees. His light footsteps turn heavy and those yellow eyes morph into the pale blue eyes I’ve memorized. He looks like a human aside from the elongated fingers where claws lurk and pointed ears that hide beneath his shaggy brown hair. Dressed in all black, he blends in with the darkness around him no matter how brightly we may shine. A shutter races through my body when we lock eyes and a smirk grows across his face.

“What do you want?” My eldest sister, White Star, sneers at him as the others attempt to help the youngest.

He doesn’t answer or even acknowledge her, his focus entirely on me. Yellow Star steps in front of me as two more of our sisters do the same. His eyes narrow at the action but he finally turns to look at White Star. She asks him again? “What do you want, trickster?”

He rolls his eyes at the name, “you’ll need to try harder if you want to insult me.”

Pink Star cries out again when someone ties a cloth around her leg and White Star snaps her full attention to him. She moves with grace as she stalks towards him, hands balled tightly into fists as she comes face to face with him.

Well face to chest as he stands nearly three heads taller than her.

He merely glances down his nose at her, “what do I want?”

Bending down so he can truly be face to face with her, he says to her, “I want your sister.”

“My sister?”

His piercing eyes flicker over her shoulder to where I’m surrounded, “That is what I said.”

“No.”

He looks back to her, a brief moment of surprise flickering across his face, “No? I wasn’t asking for your permission, I was telling you. She belongs to me and I want her.”

“No. She is not yours. You cannot have her.”

He brings one hand up to grab her face, the claws finally making their appearance, “I was being kind with the youngling. I won’t offer the same treatment for you or the others if you don’t give me what I want.”

White Star‘s anger seems to morph in a calm and collected facade as she leans into him, “I wouldn’t expect anything less from you. The answer is no, now and for eternity. No you cannot take her.”

I can feel the growl rumbling through his chest before I hear it and I let out my own scream as his hand drops to her throat. We all gasp and cry out as her body falls to the cold ground and he stands with her windpipe in his hand. He makes a show of dropping it and wiping the blood off on the fabric of his pants. The black fabric greedily drinks in the blood and there is not even a wet spot where it once was.

The Coyote looks between her body and us, “unless you want to join your sister in the spirit world, I suggest you give me what I want.”

No one speaks and he rolls his eyes again as the claws from the other hand come out.

“Give me Blue Star and I’ll even let you take the body,” he grinds out between clenched teeth.

Yellow Star is the one brave enough to speak, “You’ve killed one of us and almost killed another but yet you expect us to obey you? Even you should know better than that, Coyote.”

He sizes her up, taking in her tall and broad form. She had always been the strongest one of us all but always the most kind hearted. His eyes flicker to where the smaller White Star lies and then to where the young Pink Star is safely tucked behind more of our sisters. Her cries have stopped but dry tears stick to her brown face and her eyes pink to like her name, are trained on him.

“I don’t feel like playing games or solving riddles today,” he warns while stepping over White Star and towards us, “I also don’t want to repeat myself anymore.”

The two sisters who are standing at my side gently tug me back as Yellow Star walks to meet him. A few of the older ones join her but the rest come to surround Pink Star and I. My own tears have stopped falling and now rage fills my body as I look wildly between the inevitable bloodshed in front of us and the women around me.

“Green Star,” I beg the woman to my right, “we can’t let them fight. It’s me that he wants, let me handle this.”

Her green eyes are full of sadness and despair as she searches my face.

“No,” she finally says before wrapping her hand around my bicep. I try to yank it away but another sister, Purple Star, grabs the other. She gives me a pointed look causing the two lines that stretch downwards under both eyes to go taunt.

“Don’t,” She tells me and drags me back.

His voice pulls out attention back to him, “Come to me, my blue star.”

Both of us go still.

He’s calling me.

My sisters’ eyes burn into either side of my face as my mind races and I desperately try to come up with something, anything to say.

“You have ten seconds before I rip all of their throats out,” he calls again and it grows more clear that we may not have another choice.

Yellow Star puts a large hand to stop him, “Do not come any closer.”

“Stop me then,” he snarls at her while stalking closer like a predator readying to attack its prey and when she makes no such move, he pushes, “I will take what is mine and you cannot stop me.”

I can see the claws itching to find a home in her neck and the violent image of all my sisters ending up like White Star makes me ill. It seems as though the two holding me are also lost in their head and I manage to pull myself out of their grasp. Stumbling past them and the wall of others before me, I break through and nearly fall. Everyone’s eyes are now on me, waiting for my next move but I have nothing. I’ve come up with nothing but simply handing myself over to save them.

A wildly stupid plan and the senselessness of it is only amplified by the grin that’s spread across the Coyote’s face. Yellow Star looks at me in quiet horror.

A mistake she instantly pays for.

One clawed hand slashes across her chest and neck and she staggers backwards, her eyes wide with fear and surprise. A choked sob breaks from my mouth and I launch myself to catch her as she falls to the ground. Cradling her against my chest, I mummer every kind and comforting word that I can think of. I refuse to look at the damage on her chest, too afraid to acknowledge that it might be fatal. From anyone or anything else, she would survive but those claws are sharper and stronger. They find their target no matter how quickly their victim is and unfortunately for my sister, she was too distracted by me to guess his next move.

“My blue star,” he says with all the affection and tenderness in the world, “come here.”

The sickly sweet drawl in his voice entices me to follow his orders but his actions have me rooted in my place with my dying sister on my lap.

His blue eyes are replaced with the yellow of his animal form while another snarl rips through his chest and as my sister’s last breath leaves hers. Hot tears flood my eyes as I stare at her still chest but I tear them away to look at him. Waves of anger and frustration roll off of him as we make eye contact again. His soften for a moment when I finally look at him but mine harden all the more at the monster before me. He goes to take another step towards me, now only a few feet from me but I stop him.

“You’ll kill them all if I refuse?”

“Yes,” he doesn't hesitate with his answer.

“And if I go, will you let them go free?”

“Yes.”

I look down to my sister. The bright yellow of her eyes has faded as she stares up at the night sky where we had danced only moments ago. I look to White Star and I swear that I see a tear fall from her snow white eyes. Behind me, I can feel the pain and sadness that fills my sisters as they watch us. I can feel the sheer heart break that no doubt washes over their faces as I gently lift Yellow Star from my lap and place her on the ground. Placing a chaste kiss to her forehead, I ask the spirits to welcome my sisters with open arms and full hearts. No one speaks or moves as I get to my feet and face the Coyote in his trickster glory.

He extends a hand out for me to take, those terrible claws no longer in sight. The pale blue eyes have returned and for a moment, I forget that I’m not looking at any normal man. For a moment, I forget the carnage he leaves in his wake or the blood that stains every inch of his sun kissed skin. I forget that this man has murdered my sisters and would have murdered them all if given the chance.

For a moment, I feel safe as I take his hand in mind but the small cries of Pink Star behind me bring me back to reality. Sensing that I’ll back away and run towards safety, he nearly crushes my hand and drags me towards him. Whatever safety I might have felt is only a figment of my imagination, a cruel trick he used to convince me to come to him.

The hand that held mine has moved to wrap around my waist so that I can’t move from his chest. The other grips my chin and his thumb trails over the three vertical lines there. The action sends a shiver through my body but I force myself to keep still and keep my eyes trained on his face.

He dips his head down and his lips brush over my cheek as he whispers into my ear, “Finally my blue star. I’ve waited for you for far too long and now you’re mine.”

Whatever words I might have had are lost and he smirks at my silence. Drawing away, he orders my sisters to leave and tells them that they may take the bodies. His bruising hold doesn’t let up as I hear them scramble to grab our fallen sisters and dash towards the skies. Only when they are gone and we are alone does he let me have a few inches of space but only to grip my chin again.

“What is your name?” he asks as he nuzzles against my hair, taking deep breaths as if I calm the storm inside of him.

My hesitation frustrates him and the hand on my chin falls to my throat. He pulls back enough to be nose to nose with me.

“Tell me your name.”

“Y/N,” I gasp as the hand grows tighter and the claws dip into the soft skin.

“Y/N,” he repeats and grins. He says it again while his eyes flutter close and he nuzzles against me again.

“Y/N, my blue star.”

My own eyes flutter close as his unspoken threat seeps into my heart. If it is freedom that I crave, it will be his heart that I need to carve out.

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #shifter Bucky #bucky barnes fic #marvel imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #marvel #bucky barnes reader insert #Native American! reader #indigenous!reader #north Native American!reader

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pandagirl45drawing · 9 months ago

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It was meant for the mini bang going on but it wasn't picked up ^^' should have finished it more. Might have garner more interest. 2/3 isn't bad.

Love Tony in red. The outfit was aggressively inspired by one of Marilyn Monroe outfits and I added a bit of flare to it.

Bucky would be a lord of the estate. He is also cursed with a type of lycantrophy. Each full moon he shifts, animal I was between a panther or wolf.

The estate itself also changes each full moon.

I'm not sure of an ending, I am a sap for happy endings with a heft ton of angst in it. Idk.

I think for the next minibang I'll only do one or two.

#tony stark #bucky barnes #digital art #winteriron #buckytony #digital artist #fanart #inspired by romance covers #shifter!Bucky

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navybrat817 · 1 year ago

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The Animal Within

Pairing: Shifter!Bucky Barnes x Shifter!Female Reader Summary: Bucky can't help but follow you when you go through his territory. Word Count: Over 2.2k Warnings: Shifters, flirting, background character death, mention of blood, slight possessive behavior, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Meet Wolfie and Little Red! My fourth and final Connect 4 (C4007 - Square 4) / Into an Alternate Juneiverse AND Week 2 of Hot Bucky Summer for @buckybarnesevents! Theme - What should I call you? ❤️ Beta read by @whisperlullaby (thank you!), but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by @firefly-graphics and thanks to @targaryenvampireslayer and @buckets-and-trees for the encouragement! ❤️Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

When Bucky was a child, the townspeople warned him not to venture too far into the woods. Dangerous creatures lurked in the shadows and many who strayed far from the beaten path never came back. What they didn't know was that he often did that very thing since he could walk. The townspeople had no reason to fear for him. While they were right that the forest held many dangers, it was also a place of kinship and wonder. He found solace in the trees.

Because even predators had soft sides.

Which was one of the reasons he started tracking you.

Who are you?

Bucky knew every creature in his territory, but hadn’t seen you before. You were stunning and quick as you wove in and out of the trees, a blur of red amongst the green and brown background. You stopped at one point to smell some flowers, as if you didn’t have a care in the world. Something about your scent excited him like nothing else, tempting him to chase you down. He refrained from doing so and maintained a safe distance as he followed, not wanting to spook you. He should’ve alerted Steve and the others the deeper you went into the woods, but he wanted to keep you to himself for now.

As if you were his.

Steve would likely ask him later why he decided to follow you in the first place. The easy answer was that this wasn't your home and he wanted to know why you decided to go through this part of the forest. It also concerned him a bit that you were by yourself. While he had his found family, he wondered why wasn’t someone by your side? Was it by choice?

Why are you all alone out here, little red?

The air was cool in this part of the forest, even with the sun shining through the branches, but it didn't seem to bother you as you stopped to play with a rock. Bucky crouched between two trees, careful not to draw attention to himself as he curiously watched. You were smaller than him and appeared far too sweet for your own good. It was strange how he felt the need to protect you and snarl that you needed to stay alert. You were all alone and anyone could come along and just eat you up.

A snap of a twig drew his attention, lowering his body more when another scent drifted through the air. You, on the other hand, were perfectly content in your own little world. Either you didn't sense the foreboding atmosphere shift or you didn't care.

Why aren't you paying attention?!

Bucky bit back a growl when he spotted the large man coming from the opposite direction, almost blending in with the background as he watched you. The fur on the back of his neck stood up straight when he saw the arrow aimed in your direction. The man had every intention of killing you. It was a cruel way to die, especially when all you were doing was playing in the woods.

Now I have to save you.

As the hunter released his arrow, you surprised both of them by suddenly leaping toward the nearest tree and narrowly avoided getting hurt. You didn’t look down as you climbed up the bark and walked across one of the large branches with more agility than he expected, your eyes on the hunter as he reached for another arrow. You must have sensed him if you were able to dodge his weapon like that. If Bucky didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought you were laughing or playing a game.

No time to play around, little red. You can't stay up there all day.

You must have known that, too, since you leapt from the high height and onto the man below.

With a small scream, you tackled the hunter to the ground. He tried to toss you away, but he didn't stand a chance when you bit into his neck. Bucky didn't expect such ruthlessness from you, but he understood why you attacked since the hunter intended to kill you. And while he didn't normally hunt without giving chase, the tear of flesh and tissue from the man's throat urged the beast inside him to join you. He had to help as you were smaller and could still get hurt.

Pack mentality. Nothing more, right?

Bucky jumped through the trees and charged at the man lying in the dirt. He was still conscious enough to throw an arm up to try and defend himself, but it only led to the wolf chomping down and crunching the bone. He relented after a moment, only to join you in biting his neck. Blood hit his white fur and dripped onto the soil, staining the earth and adding the hunter to the long list of fallen souls in the shadows.

Should've stuck to the beaten path.

You snapped your head up at the sound of his snarl, licking some of the blood from around your mouth as you assessed him. You seemingly forgot about the lifeless hunter as you slowly backed away. Bucky didn't approach you and he wasn't your enemy, but refused to lower his head in submission as you hunched your back. He was almost impressed at the fearless flash in your eyes.

You won't win a fight against me.

Your body collided with his a second later, a firm reminder of your speed even though he was stronger. You didn't claw or bite as the two of you rolled away from the body, but you screamed again. Maybe you wanted to warn him that you weren't a creature to mess with. Or maybe you knew he followed you and wanted to retaliate.

It was for your own good.

Bucky got on top of you as you came to a stop. With a small growl and raise of his lips, he went for your throat. He would've bitten through your neck, but he didn't since his intention wasn't to kill you. He wouldn't let you do any damage to him either. The clench of his jaw was a warning of what he could do if you didn't submit and the hold was enough to make you go lax beneath him with a small sound. And it was the pounding of your heart against his fur that made him loosen his hold.

It's okay, little red.

He let go completely at the sound of snapping and shifting bones beneath him. He knew those noises all too well. The shrill shriek you let out faded to a groan as your body stretched, the red fur disappearing into your skin. Your eyes were still glowing as you completed the transformation from a fox to a human.

A beautiful, naked human.

Though the townspeople feared the woods and knew monsters existed, not everyone believed the myth that shifters roamed the land. But here you were, living proof just like him. Maybe that was why your scent called to him, a mixture of something wild and grounding. It was only right that he changed back into his human form, too. It didn't mean he'd give you the satisfaction of moving away while he shifted back, his bones molding and skin stretching with a grunt. His hair fell in his blue eyes as he exhaled, his breathing harsh as he realized just how close your bodies were.

And that he could smell your arousal.

"You know I didn't need you to save me, right, wolfie?" you smiled, bringing a hand to his cheek. He bristled, but not because it didn't feel nice. It was because you touched him without hesitation. "I had it under control."

Wolfie?

"I think you did need my help," he couldn't help but say. While you were a predator, you weren't as dangerous as him. Your touch was too soft. "You should be thanking me."

"Thank you for not minding your own business."

"It is my business when you're in my territory," he reminded you, placing his hands on each side of your head as he stared down at you. The intimidating look didn't make you cower. It made you smile.

Why aren't you afraid of me?

"I guess so," you said, stretching a little and drawing his attention to your neck. It would look beautiful with his mark on it.

No. I'm not thinking about claiming this beautiful, sly stranger.

"You guess so?"

"Okay, it is your business," you huffed softly. "That man killed a lot of defenseless creatures in the west end of the forest, so I lured him here. And if he didn't take me as bait, I figured a wolf would either scare him off or kill him."

Cunning and smart.

"So you did need my help," he smirked.

"I attacked him just fine without you."

True.

"But if you hadn't, you would've had to rely on me."

"Yes, I would have. Because you're so biiiiig and so strooooong and I'm sooooo helpless," you teased, raising an eyebrow when you purposely lifted your hips to touch his. "Well, you really are big."

His eyes slipped shut, but it didn't stop the blood from flowing south. You were so warm and soft. If he spread your legs a bit more and sheathed himself, he wondered just how tight and hot you'd feel around him. Would you cry out for him or whimper?

"You're also smelly and hairy like a dog," you added.

With a growl, his eyes flew open. Instead of showing fear, you laughed. He was so thrown off by the sound that you were able to use your strength to roll him on his back. The sight of you above him, your breasts lightly bouncing from another laugh, was one he'd later dream about.

"You know the thing about foxes? People always underestimate us," you said with a smile. "Because we're smaller than wolves and so cute. We look almost innocent."

Bucky laughed this time, the sound deep as he brought his hands to your hips to steady you. No other reason. "I know damned well you’re not innocent at all."

He held his breath as you leaned down, your nipples brushing against his chest. "And how would you know that?" you whispered, your lips so close he could almost kiss you.

The scent of blood and death was only a few feet away, but the tempting smell of your pussy had his mouth watering. He had to keep a level head though. He didn't know you. "No one innocent would rip a throat out like that."

He wondered just how many men you lured to their deaths with your act.

The hunter becomes the hunted.

The playfulness faded from your eyes as you sat up. Had he touched on a sore topic? "Sometimes we have to do those things in order to survive," you said, lifting your weight off of him. "Thank you so much for 'saving' me."

"Wait," he urged as he sat up, not wanting you to go away so quickly. That should've bothered him that he wanted you close by. Everything about his pull to you should have. "That's not a proper thank you."

"And what is?" you asked curiously, your eyes moving along his body as he stood up. He wasn't ashamed of his nakedness. If anything, he liked that you saw some of his scars.

"Helping me get rid of this body," he answered, nodding to the hunter. He'd already have to explain to Steve that he assisted in killing him, but he wasn't at all sorry. "And I need to make sure you get back to the border safely."

You nodded after a moment. "Not the kind of 'thank you' I thought you'd want, but I'll help," you said, briefly looking up at the sky and avoiding his gaze. "Don't worry about taking me back. I can manage just fine getting out of here. I'm used to going it alone."

I don't like that.

"I'd feel better if I went with you," he said.

"Fine," you agreed, gesturing to yourself when a breeze picked up, goosebumps rising on your skin. "Just wish I had my red cape to cover up. Unless you don't mind the view."

He licked his lips when you did a spin, giving him a view of every delicious curve of your body. "I don't mind," he admitted.

Hell, he was still half hard just from having you against him on the ground.

"I like you, wolfie," you smiled.

"That's not my name," he said, even if the little nickname made him want to smile.

"What should I call you?" you asked, brushing a bit of dirt off his right arm.

"Bucky," he replied, gently taking your arm before you could walk away. "What should I call you?"

You smiled as you gave him your name and moved in close again. "You can call me little red if you want," you told him, your breath fanning against his ear. "Let's get to work."

Maybe once you finished burying the body, Bucky would convince you to tell him a bit more about yourself. Because he wasn't ready to let you leave his territory yet. Not when he sensed you had no one to go back to. And he had a feeling you weren't quite ready to leave yet either.

Surprise, surprise, I love them already. Love and thanks! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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pandagirl45 · 10 months ago

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Grizzly bear rhodey, for any shifter au is either a grizzly bear or golar bear (grizzly and polar) I think their called pizzly.

Steve is a dog shifter, golden doodle or golden Shepard.

Steve is taller (depending on the au) but rhodey shifting, just has height on the guy. Which steve melts (he gets to be smol again).

Clint defaults to a bird. Sorry clint. Sam too.

Natasha is between a reptile or a fox shifter.

Tony cat or a mix of a lynx and lion (lyonx). It's not real.

Bucky a grey wolf. Or also a bear. Maybe a polar bear.

Thor would be a mountain goat (the mythologies)

Loki a snake

Strange a mongoose ;)

Bruce would be a mix (hulk reasons) animal too. Not sure yet, maybe a primate and sloth. Energies funky.

I freaking love getting funky with it.

#steve rogers #james rhodey rhodes #warshield #steve rogers x james rhodey rhodes #tony stark #bucky barnes #winteriron #clint barton #sam wilson #The Avengers #Bruce Banner #thor odinson #loki laufeyson #natasha romanoff #shifter au #ideas for fics

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nessieart · 1 year ago

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TEETH pt. 19

WC: 3k Summary: Everything was fine. So... what happened?

Materlist

Previous | Next

Bucky followed you back to your room. You told him you needed a shower and to change, but he followed you like a lost puppy. It was cute for a moment until you stepped out of the bathroom in fresh clothes, and Bucky was sitting on your bed that you shared with Tony.

A growl left you, “get off,” your eyes flash. Bucky startles and leaps off the bed, eyes wide. You sigh, “anywhere else, just not…not there.”

Bucky nods and mumbles a quiet apology. You head into the walk-in closet and bring him a backpack with spare clothes in it.

“To keep your stuff in,” you give him a small smile. He takes it and holds it to his chest and gives you a grateful smile. “I'll be out in a minute,” you nod to the door, and Bucky takes his leave. Though you can tell he doesn't stray far.

You grab your phone and send a text to Tony. You can tell your mark on him is disappearing, and it's making you anxious.

You: Hi

Tony: Hey, good lookin. How goes senior care?

You: haha, very funny.…it could have gone better.

Tony: I shouldn't be gone much longer, honey. I'll be back before you know it. Ok?

You: Yeah. Okay.

I could use all the help I can get, you thought. Flopping back on the bed with an arm over your eyes and the other clutching your phone to your chest, you heave a sigh.

One step at a time.

In the distance, you think you hear someone call your name, but it's far and sounds like it's underwater. Something shifts under you, and they call your name again.

All at once, sound and feeling and a bright light hit you. You shoot up in bed, eyes alight and fangs extended as a growl leaves your chest.

Steve and Sam are at the foot of your bed. Had you fallen asleep? You can't even remember ever dozing off.

You retract your Shifted features slowly, scrubbing a hand down your face. “Wha…? Shteve? S-Sammy?” You mumble through a sleep-addled haze.

Steve has his hands on his hips, brows low over his eyes as he stares daggers down at you. You bristled, returning his glare.

“What?”

“He's gone,” is all he says to you. And then storms out of the room, but not before punching a fist sized hole in the wall near the door.

Your claws tear out of you, and you rip the comforter, some down feathers puffing out around you. A growl gets stuck in your chest as tears prick your eyes. The burning in your nose intensifies as you hold it in.

You clear your throat, “How long was I asleep?”

Sam shifts on his feet, arms crossed over his chest. His brows are pulled together in worry, “45 minutes,” he seems on edge.

Then you realize your claws are still out gripping tightly to your sheets. “Sorry,” you mumble, retracting claws and scooting to the edge of the bed. The full moon was affecting you more and more as the day went on. Going head to head with Steve won’t solve anything and won't keep your temper under control. You bury your head in your hands and let out a heavy exhale.

“What happened?” When you peek up at Sam, he's looking at you with concern in his eyes.

Sam shrugs, “Steve and I were waiting in the room you told us to. After about half an hour, Steve got restless and went looking for Barnes. When he couldn't find him, he went looking for you. And when Steve didn't come back, I found him. Um. In here,” Sam looked away from you then and shifted on his feet.

When you get up to leave, Sam follows you out, and you both find Steve looking out a large window at the city below. He holds his hand up, a piece of paper folded between his fingers.

“He left this,” he says lowly, then looks over his shoulder at you, “for you.”

Your brows furrow, “for me?” And when you reach Steve's side, he lowers his hand so you can take the note. There's a hand drawn picture of a flower on it. A smile tugs at the corner of your lips.

“Did you read it?” You ask him, and when he doesn’t answer, you look up to see Steve looking at you. He shakes his head no. “Do you want to read it with me?” He takes a deep breath before nodding once, crossing his arms over his chest. You unfold the paper, and when you go to read it, there's only three words:

Petal. I'm sorry.

“Oh.” Is all you say, and you show Steve. His nostrils flare, and he deflates, going to move to the couch.

-*-

Hours later

Miss, I believe there is something you should see. JARVIS’ voice rang out in the living room right before the television turned on, turning to a news station.

“Natasha??” You sit up on the couch, feet tucked under you, and you adjust the blankets around you. “Uh, Steeeve?? STEVE!?” You call out, and a moment later, he comes charging into the living room with Sam behind him. And when he looks at you confused, you point at the TV.

“J, turn it up,” you say, Steve and Sam taking a seat on either side of you on the couch.

The camera pans around the room, settling behind a red head with the giant symbol of the United States Department of Defense looming behind the men of the committee.

“Why haven’t we yet heard from Captain Rogers?”

“I don’t know what there is left for him to say. I think the wreck in the middle of the Potomac made his point fairly eloquently,” The camera shifts to show none other than Natasha Romanoff sitting calmly at a big round table with members of the DoD.

You giggle at Nat’s wit. She certainly has a way to sass people and still be calm and cool under pressure.

“Well, he could explain how this country’s expected to maintain its national security now that he and you have laid waste to our intelligence apparatus.”

Nat’s eye twitched slightly, “HYDRA was selling you lies, not intelligence.”

“Many of which you seem to have had a personal hand in telling,” the Committee General leered. He looked down his nose at Nat.

Another man leaned forward, his forearms on the table in front of him, “Agent, you should know that there are some on this committee who feel, given your service record - both this country and against it- that you belong in a penitentiary, not mouthing off on Capitol Hill.”

Natasha smirked, her head tilting to the side a little, “You’re not gonna put me in a prison,” she shook her head, red hair shifting with the movement, “You’re not gonna put any of us in prison. You know why?”

“Do enlighten us,” he all but seethed.

“Because you need us. Yes, the world is a vulnerable place, and yes, we helped make it that way, but we’re also the ones best qualified to defend it. So, if you want to arrest me, arrest me. You’ll know where to find me.” Natasha pushed her chair back and stood, giving one last smirk before she left the DoD hall.

The volume of the TV turned down as the news panned to the outside of the building, a man started talking, about what, you couldn’t be sure. The marquee at the bottom of the screen scrolls through saying Washington, D.C. was still in ruin and who to blame for the damage. Then, going on to say Agents of SHIELD/HYDRA were scattered and fleeing or being taken into custody."

Your mind went to Bucky, and you worried if he got out of New York City ok.

The next scroll of the marquee asked the question: Where has Captain Rogers gone, In Hiding, or Regrouping?

You chanced a glance at Steve, he was sat forward with his elbows on his knees, head rested on his fists and brows low. The look in his eyes suggested he was lost in thought.

Your skin rippled, like waves in the wake of a boat through the water, the fur of your Coyote wanting to be set free. You hunched over and gripped the blanket tight, claws coming out and ripping holes in the blanket with the force of it. You haven't gone this long without Shifting so close to a full moon in a long time.

You didn't realize you were growling until Steve put a hand on your shoulder. You shot him a look, but he didn't flinch. He squeezed your shoulder and gave you a small smile.

“If you need to Shift, it's okay,” his hand goes between your shoulder blades, and he rubs small circles. Then Sam puts a hand on your other shoulder and squeezes.

“Don't worry, Baby Girl, we won't go anywhere,” Sam reassured. You nodded, but something in you told you not to Shift. Something deep in your bones. It doesn't sit well with you. And that just puts you more on edge, your knee bouncing to try and distract yourself if only for a little.

“I'll- I'll be fine,” you tell them. And you hope you will be.

*-*

Tony was so over these meetings. There was a reason he stepped down as CEO, well maybe one of the reasons. But also another reason he paid people to do things for him.

He can't even remember what the last 4 meetings were about. Shit, he couldn't tell you what this one was about.

Tony lounged back in his chair, cheek resting on his fist on the armrest, and he sighed dramatically.

“Is there a problem, Mr. Stark?” Some uppity asshole asked, what seemed like the 10th time.

Tony scrubbed a hand down his face before he answered. He groaned.

“Just fine, Paul, keep it goin’,” Tony rolled his wrist as if to keep the banter rolling. “I've been in and out of meetings for the last 2 days. I'm still on New York time, after all.” Tony reached for his phone when he felt it vibrate in his pocket. It was a text from you, and his eyes brightened, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

He knew you had found Barnes out on the streets of New York. It worried him more than he let you know. But he knew you could take care of yourself.

Tony also knew that Steve and his friend were there. Not much goes on inside his Tower without him knowing about it. JARVIS keeps him up to date with all things concerning you, the company you keep, and the Avengers.

You seemed exhausted, even though it was through text, he had a feeling, somewhere in him, maybe at the base of his skull. He rubbed a hand on the back of his neck, hair standing on end only a little bit. He went to run his fingers over the mark you gave him but was sorely disappointed when he couldn't feel it anymore.

Tony rubbed a hand over the spot on his chest where his Arc reactor used to be. Sometimes, he forgets it's not there anymore, which is astounding because it was basically a gaping hole in the middle of his chest.

Tony came back to the present just as the meeting was ending. He shot up out of the swivel office chair and made it way towards the exit. He was so done with meetings and people, and London. He was done. And with that revelation, he decided to leave. Get on his jet and go home. To you.

On the elevator down, he felt it again, the hair on his neck standing on end, and he ran a hand through his hair to shake the feeling. A cold feeling running down his torso like a stone to his stomach. Tony staggered back, bracing a hand on the wall to hold himself upright.

Sir, is everything alright? JARVIS asked, a small display lighting up Tony's tinted glasses.

“Not sure, J,” Tony replies, his other hand coming up to his healed but scared chest. “I feel like my insides are on fire, and I've been doused with ice water,” he groans again, head falling low between his shoulder blades. The soft chime of the elevator reaching the ground floor alerts him, and Tony staggers again to stand up right.

The suit is waiting out front, Sir.

As soon as Tony clears the front doors, he's falling into his Suit. Collapsing to his knees and heaving gasping breaths in.

“JARVIS, what the hell’s the matter with me?” Tony clammers to his feet, resting his hands on his knees. “Another panic attack?” His veins felt like fire and ice, with each pump of his erratic heartbeat a new wave of pain would shoot through him.

I'm not entirely sure, Sir. It does appear that Miss Jones is also having similar symptoms.

“What? Show me!” Before Tony could finish his statement, JARVIS was already putting the live footage from the Tower on the HUD in the Iron Man helmet.

-*-

Steve and Sam haven't left the couch, but you've been pacing for the last 10 minutes, shaking your hands out at your sides each time your skin ripples, but you can't Shift. You've tried.

The ice through your veins makes you shudder, and then the heat goes through you with your next step.

“I don't get it,” you say between clenched teeth. At least your fangs and claws still shine through, even though nothing else will. Your hands come up to grip the roots of your hair, “this has never happened before.”

“The whole,” Sam waves a hand around in your direction, “not Shiftin’ thing? Ever heard of something like this happening before?”

You think for a moment, eyebrows pinching together as you try and think. Another wave of ice goes through you, and you shudder again. It's not really painful, now that you think about it. It's more annoying and bothersome than anything. Something you can't quite put your finger on. Everything SHOULD hurt, but it's muted.

“Leon…” is all you say before an unnatural warmth floods your chest, it's familiar, it's comforting. You've felt it before.

And then there's a blinding pain, like being stabbed with silver, and it shoots from your neck to your toes and fills you with unparalleled dread and pain. You hunch over and scream, fur ripping out of you like your skin was too tight. You claw at your back, ripping your shirt and skin with it, blood flows from the open wounds, and it's the only relief you can get from the hot searing pain that's coursing through your body.

Something hits you hard in the side, tackling you to the ground and you flail, claws lashing out on the weight straddling you, and then your hands are pinned above you, you thrash again trying to buck whatever weight is on top of you.

“-I'm trying! She's not listening! That's enough! Listen to me! Flowers, stop!” It's Steve. He must have been shouting at you for a while because when you open your eyes, he visibly relaxes. He mutters a thank God, and when you stop struggling, the grip on your wrists is released, and you bring your hands down to look at them.

Your claws are still out, there's blood covering them, and when you flex your shoulder blades, you wince. You can feel the skin stitching itself back together, the fur that ripped through your skin still there and matted with crimson.

“What the hell was that?!” Sam shouts, his chest heaving as he steps back a few paces.

You pant and scrub your hands down your face. Steve is still straddling your legs, one of his hands resting on his thigh and the other on your stomach. He can easily restrain you again if he needs to. You nod to yourself, smart.

“Leon,” you rasp. One shoulder shrugging and your arms falling out to your sides with a small thud.

“You said that earlier,” Steve tilts his head up to you. Just how long were you struggling? “What does your brother have to do with this?” He waves a hand up at you.

Your brows furrow, tears welling up and falling down your temples. “I-I think he f-found hi-his mate.” You wince, the fur down your arms stands on end, and you try to shift your weight around under Steve.

“That a good thing?” Sam asks.

You groan, and when you look at Steve, you nod at him. He warily gets up off of you, taking measured movements just in case you start trying to tear your skin off again.

“Usually. I felt it,” you struggle to sit up, bones creaking and popping as you do. “The minute he knew, it was like a-a warmth that filled my chest, it was nice,” you're lips curl with a small smile, and then it fades just as fast. When you look up at Steve and then Sam, your expression is dark.

“And then it felt like a thousand silver needles were jammed into my body. Over, and over again.”

“Is that why you were trying to tear yourself apart?” You nod, another small shudder running through your body.

The soft chime of the elevator reaching your floor turns all your heads.

A voice calls from around the corner, “Lucy, I'm home!” And out steps Tony, arms out wide and then fall to his sides as he takes in the sight of the three of you. And then you, bruised and bloody on the floor with matted fur peeking out along your skin, torn shirt across your back and tear tracks down your face. But you visibly perk up as his eyes meet yours.

Tony's hands move to his hips, brows furrowing, “You've got some explaining to do.”

#tony stark x reader #mcu fanfiction #shifter!reader #tony stark x shifter!reader #tony stark imagine #steve rogers #sam wilson #bucky barnes

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