#Alpine

[enthyrea]

she gets it from her dads

[satanzayoru25341]

Alpine gets too close to the camera

[bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky]

I need this scene in the MCU so so bad

[hyperfixated-homo]

In honor of the new Alpine accessory

[desigal-26]

I just had this idea because I was rewatching the Hulk podium and all the comments that had Max been on the podium then Nico would have the best celebration and I just thought—why not. Also, no hate to McLaren boys, I genuinely like Oscar but the way both the drivers acted was uncalled for.

Also if anyone wishes to request anything about the characters/personalities I write for, you are free to shoot me with a message

Real and Hers

Max Verstappen x Alpine Driver!Reader

They didn’t treat her and her achievement well—but that didn’t mean no body did

She had made history that day—both for herself and the women in motorsport; she had dragged the team craving for points to the podium in an unexpected turn of events. But the ignorance atop the podium wasn’t lost on her.

Warnings: this is set in Silverstone only because I wanted to follow the same sequence of events that happened. Reader drives in place of Franco Colapinto (I hope I don’t get any hate 😅). McLaren slander (not a lot but it is there). Max being a softie for reader. Reader gets insecure. Hatred by fans to her. Misogyny in motorsport.

Word Count: 1.8k

The bass from the nightclub still pulsed in her veins, even after she slipped away to the much calmer rooftop. Up here, the air was cooler, quieter—though not entirely untouched. The wild remixes still thumped faintly through the concrete, and every now and then, a cheer would rise from below—the sound of crew members from different teams blowing off steam after a chaotic, rain-soaked Silverstone showdown.

She could still smell the champagne in the air, feel the echo of her team chanting her name, remember the rush of adrenaline as the trophy was pressed into her hands. But all of that had faded the moment the corks popped and the spray began. In the haze of celebration, something essential had been lost.

Yes, McLaren had walked away with a decent result—but the race had been anything but calm for them. The tension between their two drivers was almost visible, electric in the paddock air. Oscar, someone she’d grown to know over the past few races, wasn’t taking the outcome well. A penalty for braking under the safety car—technically fair, arguably harsh—had not only altered the race for those behind but ultimately robbed him of what had looked to be a sure win. To come so close, only to serve a ten-second penalty and finish behind your teammate, who was now deep in World Championship contention… No one would take that lightly. Even the calmest drivers had limits.

Lando, meanwhile, was basking in the kind of dream every driver chases—winning on home soil in front of tens of thousands. She wondered how that felt. Maybe someday she’d know. Or maybe not. Either way, he’d been too swept up in the moment to notice Oscar’s tightly masked fury. Or her joy on creating history.

She’d been on podiums before—won races, even—but those were in junior categories. The champagne, the crowd, the glitter of it all had seemed impossibly distant in Formula One. Until today. Until Silverstone. Until the storm.

Right calls on strategy, sheer willpower, and a stubborn refusal to let go of the racing line had brought her up the ranks. Into the points. And then, just maybe, into the history books.

Her engineer’s voice still rang in her ears.

“You’re running P4. Stroll ahead in P3.”

The fire that lit in her chest in that moment wasn’t just ambition—it was survival. The desperate need to prove she wasn’t another footnote. Not another Doohan. Not another Colapinto. That she deserved the seat Flávio had given her.

Lap 34. She made the move. Clean. Surgical. Precise.

“Where’s my teammate?” she radioed.

“P6.”

If they held their positions, it would be 23 points—more than double the team’s total across 11 races. It was a moment. A real one.

Being hunted down by a seven-time World Champion. The cheers screaming through the radio. The tears threatening to spill beneath her visor. The congratulations from Max—the four-time World Champion—before anyone else. It all felt surreal. Too surreal.

But then the moment passed.

No champagne from her fellow podium finishers. No glance, no nod, no word. Just a quiet blank space where camaraderie might’ve been. Lando too high on his win. Oscar too lost in the sting of defeat. She had celebrated alone—drenched not in shared triumph, but in the loyalty of her team. It should’ve been enough.

Maybe she was overreacting. That’s what she told herself when she stepped into the shower hours later, still sticky with champagne and adrenaline and disappointment.

The rooftop breeze tugged gently at her hair as she stared into the night, finally away from the media lights and the crush of well-wishers. Her career was barely a handful of races old, yet already it felt like she was carrying the weight of eras. Replacing a fan-favourite hadn’t helped. Nor had the poor results that had haunted her early on. People expected her to fail. And now, even after a podium, they whispered it was a fluke.

She was the first woman to stand on a Formula One podium. That should have meant something. It should have felt extraordinary. But now that the adrenaline had faded, it didn’t feel like history. It felt like a footnote no one really wanted to write.

Maybe P3 just isn’t good enough to matter—at least not to the drivers at the top.

An awkward clearing of the throat pulled her out of her thoughts and back into the present. She turned around, half-expecting a PR assistant or an overzealous fan who’d somehow made their way up here. But instead, she was met with a familiar figure—taller than she remembered, relaxed posture, hands shoved loosely into the pockets of his jacket. Baby blue eyes softened by the low rooftop lights, crinkled at the corners with a small, almost shy smile.

“Max?”

She blinked, surprised. She hadn’t seen him downstairs. Hadn’t expected him here at all—especially not tonight. Not after the race he’d had. A late-race spin had dropped him down to P10, and though he’d clawed back some points, it was far from the dominant drives people had come to expect from Max Verstappen. Truthfully, his mishap was one of the reasons she’d even reached the podium.

He gave a slight shrug, almost sheepish.

“Didn’t feel like sticking around,” he said simply. “Figured I’d find somewhere quiet.” A pause. Then, with a quick flick of his eyes, he added, “Didn’t expect you to be up here, though.”

She smiled faintly, a touch self-conscious.

“Neither did I, to be honest. Just… needed air.”

He nodded like he understood. And maybe he did.

For a second, there was only the sound of wind threading through the rooftop railings and muffled bass from below. He took a step closer, then leaned casually against the railing beside her, both of them staring out at the city in silence.

“Hell of a race,” he said after a moment, his voice gentler now. “You did really well.”

She glanced at him, unsure whether it was politeness or something more genuine.

“You don’t have to say that.”

Max tilted his head, slightly amused.

“I don’t usually say things I don’t mean.”

That pulled a breath of laughter from her—short, dry, but real.

“Well, thanks.” She hesitated, then added, “Kind of surreal. I thought it’d feel bigger somehow.”

He looked at her properly then. Really looked. “Because no one made a big deal of it?”

She shrugged, folding her arms across her chest.

“Guess I thought… I don’t know. First podium. First woman to get one in F1. I figured it would matter more.”

There was a pause. Then Max spoke, his tone quiet but firm.

“It does. Even if some people are too wrapped up in themselves to show it.” He nudged her arm lightly. “Trust me, I’ve been there. People remember the winner. Not always the story behind the podium.”

She met his gaze, something unspoken passing between them—mutual understanding, maybe. The exhaustion of constantly needing to prove something.

“You’re not a fluke,” he added. “They’ll realise that soon enough. And if they don’t… screw ‘em.”

She smiled again—this time warmer, steadier.

“You’re surprisingly reassuring for someone who spent most of the race arguing with his car.”

He laughed at that, a low sound that broke the lingering weight of the moment.

“Yeah, well. Even champions have off days.” A beat. “But you—you made history today. That’s the kind of thing that lasts.”

She let his words settle over her, the tension in her shoulders easing just a little. And for the first time since stepping off the podium, it almost felt like it had all been worth it.

Max leaned his elbows on the railing, eyes scanning the distant city lights. For a while, he didn’t say anything. She didn’t mind. Silence felt easier than small talk. More honest.

Then, without turning to look at her, he asked, “Do you have it?”

She blinked. “Have what?”

He nodded toward her hand, then gestured vaguely.

“The trophy. Or the cap. Something from the podium.”

“Oh.” She glanced at her bag, slung by the bench nearby. “Yeah, the cap’s in there somewhere. Why?”

He straightened up and walked toward the bench, digging into the bag with the ease of someone who didn’t mind being slightly invasive. He pulled out the podium cap, turning it over in his hands. The P3 embroidery gleamed faintly under the rooftop lights.

He paused, then looked back at her.

“No one signed it, did they?”

She shook her head, caught off guard.

“Didn’t exactly feel like asking.”

Max nodded once, like he already knew that answer. Then he walked back over, sat down cross-legged on the ground, and pulled a sharpie from his jacket pocket.

She raised an eyebrow. “You carry a pen around?”

He grinned a little. “Old habit. Sponsors. Fans. You’d be surprised how often it comes in handy.”

Then, carefully, he uncapped it and scribbled his signature on the underside of the brim. Not rushed. Not casual. The kind of signature you give when it means something.

“There.” He held it out to her.

“One signature down. You want the others, I’ll make them sign it. Lando. Oscar. Hell, I’ll get Lewis if you want. Don’t let them erase the moment just because they were too wrapped up in themselves to see it.”

She took the cap from him, slower than she meant to, staring at the ink like it had more weight than she’d expected.

“Max…” Her voice was quieter now. “You didn’t have to—” “I know.” He leaned back on his hands, shrugging. “But I wanted to.”

Something in her chest eased. Like a knot she didn’t know was there had finally come undone. It wasn’t about the ink. Not really. It was that someone had noticed. Someone who’d won everything there was to win, and still stopped long enough to make space for her moment.

“Thank you,” she said, sincerely this time.

He glanced up at her, eyes still light but voice softer now.

“For what it’s worth… I’ve seen a lot of rookies come and go. You don’t drive like one.”

That made her laugh, and this time the sound was easier—more her.

“Now you’re just being generous.”

“No.” He smiled, then stood and stretched, the tension of the race slowly leaving his frame. “I’m just being honest.”

They stood side by side again, the quiet falling around them once more. But now it felt different. Less like isolation. More like… space shared.

He turned to leave, but before he did, he paused beside her.

“Next time you’re on the podium,” he said, “don’t wait for them to include you. Take up the space. Make it yours.” He tapped the brim of the cap lightly. “They’ll catch up eventually.”

“I would like you on the podium with me next time,” she murmured into the air with a shy smile.

He returned the smile with a hint of pink on his cheeks. And with that, he disappeared down the stairs, the rooftop door clicking softly behind him.

She stood there alone once more—but not lonely this time. Not invisible.

For the first time all evening, she looked down at the cap in her hands and let herself feel it.

It had been real.

And it had been hers.

[satanzayoru25341]

More like Bucky's prescription for happiness

[opossumblyobsessed]

more tweets but alpine edition:

[nexxen24]

The Secret --- Bucky Barnes X Fem!Reader

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Female Reader

Summary: When a mission goes horribly wrong and the team gets injured and the jet can't make it back, Bucky Barnes chooses to reveal a closely guarded secret he's keeping in upstate New York.

Tags: Fluffy, cute, comfort, secret wife, established relationship, domestic Bucky Barnes, Bucky the sweetheart, ALPINE.

Warnings: None!! But it's TEETH rottingly sweet lol. (also maybe some implied sexy time at the very end)

Words: 2897

Notes: Now...I know what must you be thinking...who is this new man...well...guess who fell in love with Bucky...me...I did. I love this man and he may or may not show up more lol. This one is so fluffy it's not even funny. And is also a birthday gift for @dearwalker. Happy Birthday!!!!!!

The Secret

There were a lot of things in his life that James “Bucky” Barnes wanted to keep hidden. How much his trauma really affected him, what happened in the Void, how much his hands hurt from clenching them too hard at night and most importantly…you. With you tucked away he had the chance to be free of his duties as a New Avengers member, he could sit and relish in the feeling of peace for the few weeks he managed to make it out to your little slice of paradise in upstate New York. Sure you wanted him to be around all the time and had a good set of skills the team could probably use but Bucky refused, he didn’t want to ruin what you two had built and despite a want to help, you wanted to help him more. You knew what it meant to crave normalcy, to crave the escape of a couple acres of land, a soft cat on your lap and absolutely nothing to worry about. 

But sometimes that can be shattered and Bucky was mumbling some choice words to himself after a mission that went horribly wrong. Sure most missions with the newest band of bumbling super heroes went bad but this one was particularly nasty and the team was in rough shape, himself included. Alexei, the biggest of the three super soldiers, was nursing quite a few bullet wounds since he always assumed he was bulletproof when he wasn’t, Walker was shoving an ice pack against his concussion and even the resident super human, Ava, was pretty banged up and not able to really unlock her powers. The jet was also on its last leg after a few bullets managed to puncture the fuel tanks and Bucky had to assume it wouldn’t make it all the way home…but it could make it somewhere else. 

The benefit of New York state was the fact that it wasn’t just the big city and so many parts of it were just nothing but land, the area he was aiming for included. Bucky usually loved the view of the small farm, sitting on a good chunk of land not far from the banks of Lake Ontario but not today…today it would change and would never be the same. 

“Where are we?” Yelena asked and glanced out the front window, eyes narrowed as Bucky landed the jet. 

“Somewhere special,” he muttered and the jet shuttered as it landed, fuel reserves completely depleted but he had some tools in one of the barns that could fix it or he could call OXE. 

“Somewhere special is the middle of nowhere?” Walker asked and Bucky groaned at the annoyance in his voice, amplified by the pain in his head. 

“Okay…look…this is me being very vulnerable,” he said and the team’s eyes all collectively widened, unaware that was even possible. “There are very few people that know this place exists, Sam, Joaquin and now you guys. If you do anything to mess it up or tell more people than those in this jet, you will regret it. Are we clear?” 

“What are you hiding?” Yelena asked and he sighed, running a hand through his hair. 

“A lot,” he deadpanned and stepped out of the jet, limping a tad bit since he even got hit in the fray. 

“So…I’m guessing a secret kid,” Ava said and Bucky eyed her. 

“No…he’s so a drug dealer and this is his base,” Walker shot back and they both chuckled as Bucky ground his teeth together, already regretting this. 

“What about a wife?” Yelena asked and Bucky tried to not react. 

“No way, he’s too grumpy to have a wife,” Ava said and he sighed, glad they thought so…when you didn’t.

“Alright…be nice,” he hissed and walked up the steps of the porch before knocking on the screen door, pretty sure you were home. 

“Do you have an accomplice in your drug deal business?” Walker asked and Bucky glared at him before digging around his pocket for his key and unlocking the door. 

“Inside, I’ll go see what’s going on,” he said and they all shuffled inside, taking up residence in the living room and sprawling about on the various couches and armchairs. 

Alexei was about to sit on a certain chair and Bucky cursed before bolting forward, grabbing the ball of white fluff before she got sat on and got really mad at him. Alpine wasn’t known to be that friendly, especially not to people other than you and Bucky and being sat on definitely wasn’t the best way to make a first impression. She also wasn’t that big a fan of being scared and that happened when he grabbed her, the cat hissing and scratching in protest. 

“No…Alpine, stop, calm down,” he said and the cat finally registered it was Bucky that grabbed her and calmed down a small bit, still looking angry but luckily not trying to kill him. 

“A cat,” Alexei deadpanned and he nodded. 

“This is Alpine, she doesn’t like most people,” he said and the cat perched on his shoulder as he made his way into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of homemade lemonade and taking a long sip. 

This was what home felt like and it took a lot of searching to finally get that but here…in this little farmhouse with creaky floors and a semi-pissed off cat, it felt like he had finally found it. The house was littered with photos of various occasions, fourth of July’s with Sam, the actual wedding all those months ago, summer vacations and looked a hell of a lot different from the sterile box he kept at the Watchtower. Yelena had once accused Bucky of being unable to settle in but he was able to…he just needed you and he noticed how shocked she looked to see all the personal artifacts littered across the room. 

“So…is this the secret?” she asked as she walked over, holding a photo of him and you. 

“Bingo.” 

“Secret wife?”

“For about three years,” he said and pulled out his phone to see if he could deduce where you were. 

“You never told us.” 

“I wanted to keep this place secret, from you guys and from Val and her goons. Just another thing to use against me,” he muttered and sent off a, where are you, hun?, text as Yelena eyed him. 

“How’d you meet?” 

“She worked for SHIELD, as one of their agents and was around when the whole resurface thing happened, helped Sam and Steve find me in Berlin and was by my side that whole trial. I went away for a while to find myself, choosing to heal my brain rather than be with her but we managed to reconnect after the whole…Blip incident.” 

“Well, I hope she comes back cause I want to meet her.” 

“You’ll love her,” he said and grinned just as a car pulled up outside and Bucky had to assume you had gone out for groceries and would be pretty shocked to see the new guests in the living room. 

“Is this your drug buddy?” Walker quipped and Bucky glared at him before dropping Alpine on the counter and heading out, standing on the porch as you gathered up the groceries. 

Normally you’d be ecstatic to see your husband, since he wasn’t home all that much and really made a show of it when he was but today…today he needed to stay away from the house and your eyes widened when you caught him on the porch. Sure your plans weren’t made yet, but anyone with eyes could deduce what they were from the supplies in your arms and you cursed as he met you halfway. 

“What are you doing here?” you asked and Bucky frowned. 

“Not even a hello?” 

“Hi,” you shot back and kissed him. “What are you doing here?” 

“Mission went south, the jet couldn’t make it back,” he said and nodded to the quinjet as you sighed. 

“Of course.” 

“I have the team here as well.”

“Great, they now know,” you said and Bucky shrugged as you sighed and handed him a bag. 

“What’s all this for?” 

“It was supposed to be for your surprise when you got home much later,” you said and he eyed the bag of cake supplies and a large collection of lemons and raspberries. 

“Oh my God…I forgot,” Bucky deadpanned and you chuckled as you opened the screen door. 

“I mean…when you’ve had over a hundred it makes sense,” you shot back as he rolled his eyes. “But yes…Happy birthday, hun.” 

“You were going to make your famous cake.”

“I make it every year,” you said and dropped the supplies on the counter, scratching Alpine under her chin before staring out at the team of superheroes who were all staring at you. “Hello.” 

“So…no drugs?” Walker asked and you eyed him as Bucky rolled his eyes. 

“No…I don’t indulge in much more than weed,” you said and Walker’s eyes widened since he knew you. 

“Wait…you,” he said and stood, cringing from the concussion as you smiled. “I know you.” 

“Yep, haven’t seen you since the Flag Smashers in New York.”

“What are you doing here?” he asked and you eyed Bucky to see if it was okay and he gave you a nod.

“Well…I live here,” you deadpanned and began to put the groceries away. “I have for a while now. It’s been fun, the land is nice, cat’s even better and sometimes…if I’m lucky…I have a husband to share it with. But he’s gone a lot.” 

“Wait…husband?” Ava asked and eyed Bucky as he shrugged. “You lying jerk, this was what you’ve been hiding.” 

“Guilty as charged,” he muttered and kissed your cheek, dropping the baking supplies on the counter. “Yes this is her.” 

He rattled off your full name as you smiled at the Barnes attached to the end, glancing at the small wedding band on your left hand, a relic since it was an antique all the way from the 40s just like him. You knew Steve Rogers first and had been assigned to help him adjust to his new life not being frozen in time and in doing so he had rambled about Bucky for half the time you spent together. When he reappeared as the Winter Soldier, you jumped at the chance to help and became obsessed with getting him back. It worked and he broke his programming but ran off and you didn’t see each other till Steve and Sam caught him in Berlin. When the Sokovia Accords nearly took him, you were right there by his side and that was the moment things started to get a bit more intimate. 

You were trained by SHIELD to help desperate people, normally hostage situation survivors or frozen super soldiers and Bucky was no different. He was just as lost and when the nightmares of his time at HYDRA became too much, you were there and you let him go off and fix himself, kept apart by the Blip and everything in between before finally reuniting shortly after Steve went off to return the stones. Bucky was changed, he was willing to get help and he got it with you. The relationship kicked off almost instantly and less than six months later you were standing in that very farmhouse, using it as a honeymoon destination. Sure his idea to go into politics was questionable and it kept you apart a lot of the time but you just liked that he was finally happy and finally free. 

When Bucky began to share his life story and all his regrets, one of the bigger ones was leaving his mother behind when he joined the army. He left her angry, his sister as well and admitted late one evening in bed that what he missed the most from her was her baking. She used to make a lemon and raspberry cake for every birthday and the next time March 10th rolled around and he returned from a mission to see you, one was sitting on the counter. It had become a tradition to spend his birthday at home with Alpine and the cake and this year would be no different despite the increase in company. 

“Now…I have a cake to make,” you said and he nodded, reaching under the sink and grabbing a first aid kit before giving you another kiss and heading off to tend to Alexei. 

Ava and Walker followed, still in shock over the whole thing but Yelena stayed back and eyed you as you started to cut up some lemons for the cake and the lemon curd to go in between the layers. You glanced up to find her staring and grabbed the raspberries from the fridge, a bowl and a wooden spoon and told her to mash them if she was going to stare at you. 

“So…SHIELD agent.” 

“Former, they don’t really exist anymore,” you said and grabbed a pot, heating up the stove and pouring some flour into a bowl. “Now I manage the wages at a local processing plant. A lot less glamorous.” 

“Why not work for OXE?” 

“No, I like this little life,” you said and she smiled at you.

“He looks so different here,” Yelena said and you glanced at Bucky who was laughing at Alexei’s jokes as he patched a bullet hole in his arm. 

“He looks like that all the time to me.”

“You really got the domestic super soldier version.”

“I like this version,” you said and added some lemon zest to the cake batter. “If I can give him a chance to act normal, to come home and eat cake and celebrate his birthday then that’s more than enough. I used to assist people who had been traumatized during SHIELD missions when I worked with them, hostages and even Steve Rogers after he was frozen and it taught me a lot but…one thing above all the rest.”

“Which is?” 

“Sometimes, the best things in life are the most mundane,” you said and licked the spoon as Yelena chuckled and handed over the bowl of mashed raspberries as you added them to the pot with some sugar. 

***

Late that evening you announced to the team that the cake was done, candles and all and the group of you sang a very enthusiastic happy birthday to a man who looked more embarrassed by it than anything. It was perfect like it was every year and Bucky kicked the team out of the house so they could sleep on the quinjet which had more than enough beds for a bunch of cake filled superheroes, leaving the two of you alone in the living room, curled up on the couch with Alpine between you. 

“So…did you wish for anything?” you asked and he chuckled. 

“I thought you were supposed to keep it a secret?” 

“You can tell me,” you said and he turned so he was looking at you.

“I wished for this…forever more,” he said and you rolled your eyes. 

“You’re a big suck you know that.”

“I try.” 

“What about the big brooding Bucky that the team gets. Where’s that one?” 

“He gets shoved down when I’m here with you.”

“Why?” 

“Because he forgets how good he has it,” he said and you chuckled, kissing him deep and squishing the cat between the two of you. “So…I got a cake…what else?”

“Oh…you want more?” 

“It’s not every year you turn 110.” 

“Oh stop, you’re reminding me of our problematic age gap,” you said and sat up, Alpine moving and meowing as she went, mad from always getting caught between you. 

“We’re scandalous,” he muttered and you nodded with a grin, slipping off your cardigan as his eyes widened. 

“We can make it more scandalous,” you said and stood, slipping off your jeans, leaving you in nothing but a t-shirt and panties as his eyes widened further. “Sure you may be an old man but only in age…not in…stamina.” 

“Oh…you’re making this so easy,” he said and slipped off his shirt as you smiled. 

“Come on, doll, let’s see just how much of that stamina you still have,” you said and he chuckled as you ran up the stairs, Bucky close on your heels. 

The life you had built together was domestic at best, horribly so even, full of late mornings and a home that was warm and smelt like fresh coffee whenever he was home for longer than a night. Sure it was a bit unconventional but you didn’t care, you had him and the cat and a whole future ahead of you. For before when the nightmares would attack his mind and send him back to those moments at HYDRA, lost and alone and trying desperately to find a way out Bucky was alone in it all. 

But now…he had you. 

Sure the secret he had been trying to keep was shattered and the team would surely want to return all the time but he didn’t care since it meant he could see you more and maybe even invite you to the tower on occasion, showing you his own little world. 

For the light in your home shone a bit brighter that evening and lasted long into the night as the supposedly brooding and horribly unsociable super soldier melted away and a man in love took his place. 

[satanzayoru25341]

Alpine is sleeping while being surrounded by mini cat figures

[ateturning]

continuation of last post 🙂‍↕️

(og post below)

[wanderlandjournal]

alpine passes trail, Switzerland

instagram

Etsy

[43alska]

Wanted to redo one of the doodles in my previous piece and practice background stuff grahhh I FUCKING HATE DRAWING BACKGROUNDS IM SORRY IF THEY LOOK LIKE DOODOO DIARRHEA IM TRYING

[knowledgeableknitter]

Ahaha! Thank you so much! I'm so glad you're enjoyed Bucky and Alpine! I've actually decided to make it a series, Thursdays with Alpine. She's just such a fun character to write!

Advice from a Cat

Just a cute little drabble.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x you (female)

Word Count: <500

Summary: Bucky's getting ready for his first date with you. Alpine helps calm his nerves and decide what to wear.

Trigger Warnings: Fluff with a fluffy cat.

Author’s Note: Haven't been on a date in ages. Wanna go on one with Bucky.

Masterlist

Bucky stood in front of the mirror, arms crossed, brow furrowed, and a growing collection of shirts strewn across the bed behind him.

“I don’t know, Alpine,” he muttered, glancing at the white ball of fur sprawled on the corner of the mattress. “This is ridiculous.”

Alpine blinked slowly in response, her tail flicking once like she was unimpressed with the crisis unfolding before her. She looked apathetic and mildly judgmental, but still loyal. She hadn’t moved in twenty minutes except to bat at the sleeve of a gray button-down Bucky had tried on and tossed aside.

“It’s not like I’m good at dating,” he added, pulling another shirt over his head only to yank it off again seconds later. “I don’t know how to do the small talk, and I don’t have any good stories that don’t end in trauma or a government file.”

He sat on the edge of the bed with a tired sigh, looking down at his boots like they might give him some kind of answer. “What am I even doing? She’s... she’s amazing. You’ve seen her. Kind. Smart. Normal. She probably goes out with guys who know what they’re doing. Guys who don’t Google ‘what to wear on a first date’ at 4 a.m.”

Alpine yawned, stretched luxuriously, then stood and trotted across the mess of shirts before rubbing her head against a crumpled red Henley that had been one of the first casualties of his indecision. She sat on it like a throne and looked up at him, unblinking.

He narrowed his eyes. “You think I should wear that one?”

She meowed once in answer.

Bucky picked it up, held it against his chest in the mirror, and tilted his head. The red made his eyes look a little bluer, his skin a little warmer. It was just fitted enough to look like he hadn’t tried too hard, but not so tight it felt like a statement.

“You might be onto something, fluffball.”

Alpine purred, curling back into a ball on top of his jeans.

“I take it that’s your choice for pants too?” he asked, walking over to pick them up from under her belly.

She licked a paw. Bucky took that as agreement.

Back in front of the mirror, now dressed in the red Henley and dark wash jeans, he looked... decent. Not flashy or overdressed. Just... like himself. Maybe that was good.

He glanced at Alpine, her eyes already half-closed, tail flicking again.

“I’m still thinking about canceling.”

The cat gave him a slow, deliberate look that seemed to translate to: don’t you dare.

He chuckled under his breath and reached down to scratch behind her ears. “Fine. I’ll go.”

Alpine didn’t reply, but the smugness in her purr said everything.

Bucky grabbed his keys and headed for the door, heart pounding but mouth tugging upward in the smallest hint of a smile. If he could win over Alpine, maybe he had a shot with you too.

Tag list: @lovely-seb @calwitch @its-in-the-woods 

[nervmaup]

[orellazalonia]

Okay, so, i have an idea for Shapeshifting Shenanigans.

Reader turns into a mouse, and Alpine doesn't recognize her, so Alpine's chasing her, and Reader is too panicked to change into another animal - or back go human - so Alpine attacks her, luckily Bucky gets home and saves the day

Hello there! Thank you for the request. Definitely seems plausible since Alpine couldn’t or didn’t acknowledge her as anything but a cat (or at least as equals). So this was fun to imagine. I hope you enjoy and happy reading!!!

Mouse Disaster

Summary: After shifting into a mouse, you’re chased by Alpine who doesn’t recognize you and corners you in a panic until Bucky comes home just in time to rescue and comfort you. (Bucky Barnes x shapeshifter!reader)

Word Count: 1.1k+

Main Masterlist | Shapeshifting Shenanigans Masterlist

You weren’t supposed to be doing this alone.

Bucky had left an hour ago, just a quick run to the market and maybe to grab your favorite kind of tea, the one he always insisted tasted like grass but bought anyway. He’d kissed your temple on his way out, murmuring, “No trouble while I’m gone, alright?”

You meant to listen.

But the apartment was so quiet as warm sunlight poured in through the windows. Alpine was snoring gently on the windowsill, her white fur rising and falling in slow waves. It felt peaceful, like nothing in the world could go wrong.

So, naturally, you decided this was the perfect moment to test something small, safe.

You’d done it once before, becoming a mouse, though only for a few seconds, and only under Bucky’s careful supervision. It had been surprisingly hard, despite the small size. The sheer vulnerability of that form made your instincts scream. But today, you felt confident, or at least… curious.

Standing in the center of the living room, you closed your eyes and concentrated and focused on shrinking. On fur, on whiskers, tiny paws, and twitching ears. The pull of shifting always felt strange, like being tugged inward and flipped at the same time; but then the world stretched and warped, and when you opened your eyes, everything was huge.

The TV stand loomed like a skyscraper, parts of the rug looked like a forest, and your heartbeat was wild, thudding in your chest like a runaway drum.

You did it.

A triumphant squeak escaped you before you could help it.

Scurrying forward on trembling little paws, you took in the details of your oversized surroundings. Crumbs under the coffee table, a rogue sock, and a pencil you’d dropped last night now looked like a fallen tree trunk. You were overwhelmed by scent and sound, each one sharper in this body.

But the moment of awe didn’t last.

You turned just in time to see Alpine’s head raise slowly from her sunlit throne, eyes locking onto you like lasers. Her ears perked and her body stilled.

Predator mode: Activated.

You squeaked again, this time in terror.

Alpine dropped from the windowsill like a fluffy white missile, paws landing silently on the wood floor. She crept low, her belly skimming the ground, and tail flicking with anticipation. She didn’t recognize your scent. All she saw was a very lively snack running loose in her territory.

So you ran.

Tiny feet scrambled across the floor as you dove under the couch, Alpine close behind. Her paw swiped under the cushions, claws narrowly missing your tail. You scrambled to the other side, heart pounding so hard it hurt. You tried to shift back, you tried, but panic drowned out everything else. You couldn’t focus, could barely breathe.

The living room turned into a war zone.

You dodged between furniture legs and ducked behind the lamp. It toppled. A throw pillow burst when Alpine pounced and missed, her claws catching the seam. You somehow launched yourself onto the kitchen counter, more out of sheer adrenaline than logic, and froze, trembling.

Alpine leapt up a second later, eyes wide and pupils dilated. She let out a low, delighted purr, the kind cats make when they’re this close to their prey.

You were cornered. No shift, no escape.

You backed into the toaster, squeaking helplessly, right as her paws slammed down–

“ALPINE!”

The front door crashed open like thunder. Bucky’s voice boomed through the apartment, low and furious.

Everything froze.

Alpine paused mid-swipe, one paw hovering. You huddled against the toaster, eyes wide and body shaking like a leaf.

“What the hell–“ Bucky stopped dead in the kitchen doorway, eyes flicking from the wreckage of the living room to the sharpness in Alpine’s eyes… and then finally, to the trembling mouse on the counter.

You.

He knew.

He didn’t hesitate. He stormed forward, scooped Alpine up under one arm despite her wriggling, and pointed sternly at her face. “No. Absolutely not. That is not a toy. That’s our girl, you little psycho.”

Alpine meowed in protest, squirming to turn around and keep watching you with suspicious curiosity. Bucky set her gently but firmly inside the bathroom and shut the door.

Then he turned to you, softening instantly.

“Hey, sweetheart.” His voice dropped to a murmur, and he approached slowly, hands out. “It’s okay now.”

You still trembled where you sat curled near the toaster, your tiny mouse form practically vanishing against the silver of the appliance. Your breathing was erratic, whiskers twitching in uneven bursts, and your beady eyes were wide with leftover panic. Alpine’s attack hadn’t hurt you physically, thankfully, but emotionally? You were rattled, locked inside your smallest shape and too afraid to let go of it.

Bucky’s expression softened further when he saw the way your tiny claws dug into the metal edge, your tail wound tight around your little body. “Aw… you’re safe now. I got you,” He murmured, voice low and soothing like he would to a frightened animal which, technically, you currently were.

He knelt in front of the counter, arms resting on the edge as he kept himself eye-level with you, careful not to loom. “You can shift back, baby. She’s locked up and can’t hurt you now.”

You squeaked in response unintentionally, and tucked yourself tighter into the corner. You wanted to shift back. You tried again, but your body wouldn’t respond. The fear still lingered like static in your limbs. Your magic, usually fluid and responsive, felt jammed. You were too small, too overwhelmed. You pressed yourself against the corner, as if the darkness could hide you.

Bucky’s brows knit together. He could tell you were struggling. “Okay,” He said softly, reaching out slowly and gently cupping his hand beneath you without lifting. “You’re still scared and that’s okay. You don’t have to change right now.”

His palm was warm and steady. You didn’t move at first… then finally, you shakily climbed into his hand. Your little claws gripped his callused fingers, lowering yourself onto his palm. He exhaled slowly, relieved. “There you go, honey. I got you.”

Standing carefully, Bucky cradled you close to his chest with both hands now, forming a little pocket of safety. You melted against the warmth of him, the strong thump of his heartbeat grounding you more than anything else. He walked over to the couch and sat, still holding you like something fragile, his thumb brushing gently over your tiny back.

“You’re not in trouble,” He murmured. “And… I know Alpine didn’t mean it. She’s got instincts, that’s all. But you? You’re mine, and no one hurts my girl. Not even my other girl.”

You let out a soft squeak again; this time one of acknowledgment, maybe even gratitude, and settled further into his chest. The warmth of his shirt and the scent of him soothed something raw in your chest. He held you there for a while, rubbing slow, soft circles against your back with the pad of his thumb.

“You take your time, sweetheart,” He said, voice a whisper now. “You can shift back when you’re ready. I’ll be right here.”

Taglist: @yasmin12312 @herejustforbuckybarnes @eeveedream @wingstoyourdreams @figtreesandmoonlight @happygalaxymilkshake @hits-different-cause-its-you @the-galaxy-fiend @ordelixx @mouseratface