#werewolf!bucky

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

can't fight the moonlight

kinktober, day twenty-nine

a/n: this one was a fantasy that was so fuzzy and took a surprisingly long time to figure out, but the hazy dream of it kept me going till i solved the puzzle

summary: it didn’t matter what you did or how hard you tried, you had no way of overpowering the beast the moonlight turned him into. 

warnings: werewolf!bucky barnes x reader, smut, bucky's wolf form is very humanoid looking (think more teen wolf, less twilight), dubcon/noncon, predator/prey, established relationship, monsterfucking, little to no foreplay, dirty talk, squirting, overstimulation, cock drunk, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, forced breeding, belly bulge, size kink, size difference

word count: 2345

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masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2023

“…and you’ve got some water in case you get thirsty and-, oh! Do you have something to eat? A snack or something?” you blabbered tensely as you helped lock the heavy chains that your partner snaked securely around his own limbs, bolting him to the cold basement for the night, “because I could go make you-”

Letting the iron in his grasp suddenly fall to the floor in a loud clang, like a volcano he exploded, “no!” heatedly throwing his hands up as he fumed, “I don’t need a fucking snack, would you just-…” catching your wide eyes, his sudden anger thawed a bit as he finally heard his own words, “I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry,” you clutched your hands close to your chest, the keys tight in them dug into your palms.

Head lightly tilting to the side, Bucky let out a sigh, “you’re just trying to help and I’m-”

“It’s okay, I know,” you reassured him, “it’s the moon, I get it, don’t worry, darling,” you averted your gaze, staring down at the cold concrete floor, “I’m sorry about freaking out, like I do every month, but I just wanna do something that can make this better for you, even a little bit, anything, even though I know that there isn’t anything that can, I still can’t stop trying because I hate this,” you heard your voice grow thick and tears begin to blur up your vision, “I really really hate this.”

“Y/n…” you felt his fingers gently graze your cheek, bringing your glossy gaze back up to his, “you are helping, more than you even know. Before I met you, before you moved in and started being here every full moon, I was always terrified of getting out, terrified that I couldn’t detain myself enough and someone would end up getting hurt or worse… but I’m not scared of that anymore. It hasn’t happened once since you’ve been here to bolt the chains I can’t get to on my own and lock the doors from the other side. Plus knowing that you’ll be here when the sun eventually comes up, I hold onto that, no matter how painful it gets or how much I disappear, that fact doesn’t, it stays with me, keeps me somewhat sane throughout the night.” 

Letting out a shaky breath, you blinked away the mist in your eyes, trying to be brave as you uttered, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he exhaled, gazing at you as you leaned in to seal the final padlock with a click. Getting up to your feet, you stepped towards the door, but your fingers froze on the knob as Bucky’s voice filled the cellar once more, “try and get some sleep, okay? I’ll see you in a bit.”

Glancing over your shoulder at his shackled frame, sitting against the wall, skin already glistening from the pending trauma, you promised, “okay,” even though you knew this night wouldn’t be any different from the rest. 

You could never sleep when the moon was full, never even relax enough to rest for a bit. Even though the layers of resources that encased the basement silenced Bucky’s screams of agony from the rest of the neighbourhood as well as your own ears, just the knowledge that only one floor below where you were trying to slumber, there your beloved laid in pain as every single bone in his body had to break before he could turn into a monster of the moon, that awareness kept you up better than any caffeine could. 

Locking the solid steel door behind you, so you repeated with the one atop the wonky staircase, the rest of the house suddenly feeling so cold without his presence. 

Still clad in garb you’d worn to work, you couldn’t bother to change out of it even if the dress and stockings weren’t the most comfortable clothing to do an all-nighter in, you just seized the grey cabled cardigan draped over the armchair by the fireplace and shrugged it over top.

Holding the kettle under the tap to fill it up, your weary vision locked on the ominous sphere looming in the night sky clearly visible from the kitchen window. Losing yourself to the sight, too absorbed by the troubling thoughts it brought on, you only snapped out of the trance when cold water began to flow over the side of the pot and soak your hand that clutched it. 

“Oh, shit…” you mumbled as you hurried to turn off the water and pour some of the abundances back out into the sink. 

Placing it down on the stovetop, you listened to the gentle clicking that emanated before the eventual flame as you turned the knob. The slight heat radiating beneath the kettle persuaded you to shift into the living room and with the flick of a match, light the fireplace, granting yourself more of that soothing heat to help battle the night. 

You nearly jumped out of your skin when the water came to a boil, kettle whistling like a demon to relay the message. 

With a mug of tea in your hand, you curled up in the chair by the fire and picked up the half-read book discarded on the small side table. 

This was the routine, even though you never could concentrate, you still at least tried to distract yourself. 

A sudden bang ripped your eyes away from the page they had glazed over four times by now. Your vision instantly trained on the door to the cellar, clearly visible from where you were sitting. 

As the door then began to rattle rhythmically from an unyielding force, your body jumped at every thud, the novel in your grasp tumbling to the floor. 

Frozen in your seat, you watched as the door splintered, swiftly losing the short-lived battle and flying off its hinges.

With heavy footsteps, Bucky’s visage stepped into the light, except it wasn’t the Bucky you knew, not one you’d seen with your own eyes, but only ever heard tales about.

At first, you thought he still looked like himself, but as the firelight flickered across his form, you finally noticed just how altered he was. His natural body hair had quadrupled, fuzzing up his visage and the rippling muscles that hid beneath it, those as well seeming to have swelled up making his frame nearly unrecognisable. Though he always towered above your comparative stature, his height now was something else entirely. The sight of his eyes chilled you to the very bone, the calming blue was completely drowned out by a sea of black, with only a tiny golden flicker in the middle differentiating the obsidian. Nails long and tough like claws, broken chains still clung to his form as you watched his lip curl, a low growl rumbling throughout the room and letting you catch sight of his sharp teeth. 

Scarcely breathing at all, your hopes of him not noticing your presence began to fade as he predatorily sniffed the air. 

Your eyes suddenly grew wide as you spotted a part of him begin to swell up and come into the light. Throbbing, his unusually grand length intimidatingly curved upwards, it too haven grown just as the rest of his body had. 

Finally breaking through your terror, you sprung up and tried your best to run, though you didn’t get far as, within mere seconds, the natural hunter caught up to you and tackled you down to the ground, shredding the cosy knit you wore in the process. 

Cheek smooshed against the floorboards, you trembled beneath his beefy form as his flaming chest pressed against your back, knowing full well that if you made one wrong move, aggravated him in any sort of way, he could snap you like a twig. It didn’t matter what you did or how hard you tried, you had no way of overpowering the beast the moonlight turned him into. 

As your eyes flickered to the front door, it dawned on you that if he could break not only the chain that bound him, but also the strong basement doors, then the last barrier that kept him from the outside world wouldn’t even make him break a sweat. 

Growling directly in your ear, you felt his agitated breath fan across your face as his nose buried itself in your hair. Starved sniffs slowly travelling south, your heart nearly burst out of your chest as you felt him rip your clothes to shreds. Dress tattered and hanging off of you, your underwear swiftly disintegrated completely as only your stocking truly survived the attack, still clinging around your quivering thighs with only the smallest of tears to tell the tale. 

Grinding desperately against the curve of your form, his monstrous girth nudged against you, catching you off guard as even in this petrifying form, you still felt your body respond to him. 

“Bucky, Buck!” your voice squeaked in an attempt at breaking through to him, “it’s me! It’s me! It’s Y/n!” wildly flipping you over and roughly aligning himself with your core, you desperately tried to catch his dark eyes and try again, “Bucky, please!”

Joints locking up at the sound of your shrill cry, a flicker of reignition washed over his haunting glare, softening it slightly as you finally heard him speak, “…Y/n?” his voice was much lower than you’d ever heard it, though very much still his, “oh, fuck… I-…” a shaky breath escaped his lungs as he hovered above you, the tip of his cock nuzzled between your folds, “…I don’t think I can stop…” he grunted, his hand right beside your head digging into the floorboards and leaving splintery scratches in its wake, “I can’t fight it, I’m trying, but-”

“It's okay,” you carefully reached up and touched his cheek. You couldn’t let him run out that door and take some innocent lives. At this moment, all of his focus was aimed at you, so if it could just stay there and not stray till the sun came up, if you could distract him for only a little while longer, then the night might end without any unnecessary bloodshed. So, therefore, you gave in, “I love you, I love you so much,” your glistening eyes blinked up at him as you tried to speak with confidence, “you’re not gonna hurt me, I know you’re not. It’s okay, it’s-” 

Plunging into you, an almost animalistic noise accompanied his harsh action as the beast he’d become seized exactly what it desired. All of the air got pushed out of your lungs as he buried himself in you, stretching you out beyond belief and forcing a shuttering cry to tumble from your lips. 

Never mind the fact that he wasn’t wearing a condom, a thing the two of you had always been careful about, that detail fought to penetrate through the fog he sent you into. Stunned that you could even take it all, the sensation of him made your mind melt. You felt all of it. Every vein and every ridge, every jaw-dropping detail that decorated his monstrous cock drove you to madness.

“Fuck!” he snarled, bucking his hips so hard against yours that your whole body shook, the sloppy clapping of skin against skin filled the home as he greedily rammed against the deepest spot inside of you, “do you have any idea how long I’ve tried to break out of those chains?” leaning down closer, he inhaled deeply, “I can fucking smell you…” you shivered as his nose ghosted against yours, “all the way down in the basement, no matter where you are, I can always smell you… calling for me, begging me to come and rip you apart…”

Leaning back again, his bruising grip found your hips and plucked them up, holding them tight as the rest of you still laid melted against the floor like a puddle before him. Like a ragdoll in his grasp, he moved your body, fucking your drooling pussy like the ravenous beast he was. 

As your eyes fluttered down to where he virtually split you in two, the dull bulge that rhythmically appeared in your lower stomach at each and every one of his ruthless thrusts caught your attention, the vision making you dizzy. 

You had never felt like this, never felt anything so intense in your whole life. He was just so menacing, so magnetic, so massive. Your own enthusiasm caught you by surprise, especially as your cunt soon began to cry out around him, showing your living room floor in your want as you squirted all over his rock-hard girth. 

Usually, Bucky would slow down and give you a moment whenever you had an orgasm, but in this moment, tonight, it wasn’t your Bucky that was pounding the living hell out of you, it was someone else, something else, and that creature only seemed to get even more riled up by your lewd display as he picked up his speed till his gravelly groans grew louder and his efforts began to go sloppy. 

“Please, Buck,” you mumbly pleaded, picking up on his telltale signs through your cock drunk haze, “not inside.”

But he didn’t listen to you as he just kept on fucking you till he pumped your pussy full of his cum. 

Panting and puffing above you, he still kept up shallow thrusts, rocking you against him and pushing his load out of your overly sensitive cunt with every piercing plunge. 

“Buck?” you heard yourself uttered as you found his dark gaze, though what stared back at you was not your love anymore as there was no recognition to be found in his eyes at all. 

Slamming you back against him hard enough for it to sting, you shuttered at the possibility that he was nowhere near done satisfying his carnal desire. 

But just before he could ruin you completely, a sliver of light began to dawn on the far side wall. Glancing out the window, you barely managed to spot the morning crest over the treetops in the distance. 

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[jobean12-blog]

Heart of a Wolf

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (Werewolf!Bucky)

Word Count: 746

Summary: Life without Bucky is unbearable but when he somehow returns to you, changed but the same, you hold on to all hope that it's more than just a dream.

Author's Note: Just needed to get this out and I love werewolf!bucky. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you sweet Daisy🥰

Warnings: angsty beginning, mentions of grief, there is a lot of softness and love too

In the stillness of the night you lie awake. The shadows cast by the moon dance along the bare walls while the whispers of the wind linger. The darkness envelopes you, echoing the emptiness you feel inside. The only sound you hear is that of your own heartbeat, a slow and rhythmic reminder of what he left behind.

The world itself feels withdrawn and you’re left alone with the weight of your grief. Your tired mind plays tricks on you. The dimly lit corners of your perception hold illusions of color…blue like the ocean. Somewhere, deep down, you know these visions are mere remnants of your longing for a love lost.

The night, once shared in whispered promises and soft touches, has transformed into a vast void of emptiness and heartache. The profound silence is punctuated only by the ache you feel but you grasp at the fleeting solace found in the illusionary glimpses of his presence.

As the night deepens and your sorrow crushes you nearly to dust, you whisper his name, one last attempt, one last plea.

Silence.

But just as you close your eyes to succumb to the nightmare, the air thickens with an otherworldly energy, it’s presence felt in every corner of the room. It settles into your bones, warm and familiar.

The shadows stir, the darkness parting for something even stronger, something filled with a love and longing that transcends all else, even fear.

Your heart beats with new life and you search in the darkness, hope filling your soul.

“Bucky?”

“I have missed you more than life itself,” he whispers, emerging from the dark.

His eyes, though somehow more beautiful than before, still carry the same depth of emotion that connects your souls. His voice, a whisper that both resonates with the echoes of the past and the enchantment of the present, beckons you.

He extends his hand, a silent invitation that holds the promise of things you cannot begin to fathom but still somehow understand.

You rush to him, clinging to the softness of his skin and the hardness of muscle that ripples beneath. He captures you in his embrace, his hands wandering with a reverence over the curves he once cherished and finding new life in every touch.

“Bucky,” you cry, burying your face in his neck and combing your fingers through his long, dark hair.

His lips ghost along your jaw as he cups your chin and breathes you in.

“I have done everything to come back to you,” he murmurs before his lips brush yours. “And here you are. Waiting.”

“I’ve waited every night since,” you say softly.

His long fingers caress your skin and he draws your closer, pressing his lips to yours.

As the feel and taste of you consumes his senses he comes alive, his desire for you unbridled in its release.

Your name falls from his lips as his body begins to contort and shift. Fur grows like dark, silken threads, soft and lustrous in the moonlight. Bones groan and creak until he towers above you, his sharp teeth gleaming as his snout twitches with his deep breaths.

With a gasp you take an unsteady step back. He does nothing to hinder your retreat but you can see his long, sharp claws twitch at his sides.

“What happ…?” you start, choking on any other words.

With trembling lips you study him, some of your surprise and fear dissipating as he holds you captive with his gaze, one still familiar but filled with vulnerability and love.

“I made a choice,” he says, his voice a low rumble. “One I knew would bring me back to you.”

Your fingers reach out, delicate and unsure.

“Bucky.”

His whispered name holds finality and when your fingertips touch his fur your eyelashes flutter and your breath rushes out.

“Doll,” he breathes out, his own eyes closing as he gathers you against him, the tension in his body melting away.

The feeling of warmth and safety envelopes you and when you turn your face to his fur his scent is the same.

He bends over you, nuzzling your neck with his snout as he drags it along the delicate curve with a long inhale.

“Every night I’ve dreamed of having you in my arms again,” he hums against your skin.

Your fingers curl into his fur and you burrow closer.

“Please don’t let this be a dream,” you whisper. “If it is, I don’t want to wake up.”  

@hiddles-rose @randomfandompenguin @lizette50 @blackwidownat2814 @littleseasiren @kmc1989 @buckysdollforlife

[buckyscombatboots]

Monstertober Day 1:

The Big Bad Wolf

Pairing: Dark!Werewolf!Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Dub con, Dead dove: Do not eat, chasing, sex in a forest, scratching, biting, belly bulge, angst, near death, dacryphilia, bruises (not the kinky kind), begging (for him to stop), apologetic Bucky, beefy!bucky, lumberjack!bucky

Nicknames: Bunny

Word count: 3.1k

Monstertober master list

Master list

Tag list🎀

Happy October 1st everyone! Nothing like a little werewolf!Bucky to get you in the spirit. See you all on the 5th of October for Orc!Bucky🎃

The setting sun cast its orange glow upon Bucky’s chiseled face, emphasising his sharp features. He’s staring out into the assortment of trees, some turning yellow, some turning a deep red and others a mix of both. His breath sent out a cloud of smoke that twirled in the air. You couldn’t focus on the picturesque landscape before you with Bucky here, your eyes scanned over his toned arms bulging out of his plaid shirt’s rolled up sleeves. His entire body was unfair, those hours of chopping wood and building things had really paid off. His slightly tanned skin glistened in the sunset. He turned towards you, smirking at the fact he caught you staring “looks like someone’s got a staring problem, Bunny.” He chuckles, leaning down to place a kiss on your forehead.

You pout “I think Sam would say the same about you.” You retort, deviously. Bucky sighs rolling his eyes

“Do you have to mention that punk? I have to deal with him all week long at the lumberyard, I do not want to even think about him when I’m with you up here.” He frowns, looking back out into the distance. You giggle at his stroppiness.

Time to change the subject, you decide “It’s a full moon tonight, maybe we’ll see some wolves up here orrrrr” you stared at him intensely “a werewolf!” You giggled at your words, Bucky did not laugh, you pouted at him.

“It’s not a full moon tonight.” He stated firmly, his voice tremors slightly—to just anyone it wouldn’t be noticable, but you knew Bucky. Something was off. You stopped laughing, opening your eyes and slowly turning back towards him.

“Yeah it is, I have the moon chart right here on my phone.” You reached into your pocket and began flicking through your photo gallery “It’s fine, Bucky, werewolves aren't real if that’s what you’re worried about.” You finally found it, and sure enough you were correct; tonight was a full moon “See! Boom! Full moon, I told you it was. I remember checking, because was so excited. I’ve never been out this far from the city on a full moon, I bet it’s gonna be so beautiful. I can’t wait, especially because I’m with you.” You muttered the last part, casting your gaze down to Bucky’s rough, working hands. You’d watched him chop wood just a few hours earlier. The way his large calloused hands gripped the handle of the axe made your mind race and your body grow hot, you wanted him so badly. You stroked his knuckles, he was so warm.

“You need to go. Now.” His voice came out in almost a growl, you picked up his hand. He pulled it away “Leave. Get as far as you can.” He warned. You looked at him with pure confusion, your heart hurt at his rejection.

The sky grew darker, fading into a pale navy, the moon was bright tonight, its glow already piercing through the slowly dissipating clouds. You tried to find words to argue with him, your eyes burning with tears, you tried to blink them away. It had been going so well “Bucky? What’s up with you.” You turned back towards him, his nostrils flared out in anger. He was panting heavily, constantly moving, unable to sit still. His eyes were darker than usual and his entire face was coated in a thin sheen of sweat “Are you feeling alright? Should I call an ambulance? You don’t look well.”

Your hands grew sweaty and your stomach bubbled with nerves. Bucky let out a grunt and a skin crawling crackle rang out, his body began to grow—his shirt tearing at the seams and white tuffs of pelt spewing out of the rips. You watch, body frozen in horror as he morphs into a white beast before your eyes. Adrenaline prickles in your belly as you take in the sight before you. His hand you had just been holding were now partly paw, covered in white fur. His handsome jaw, dusted in stubble, had converted into a white furry maw with a shiny black nose on the end and rows of sharp, carnivorous teeth. His greyish blue eyes that you adored staring into were gone, replaced by reflective almond shaped yellow irises that glowered at you, sizing you up like you were an actual bunny. You shrunk in on yourself as you stumbled to your feet.

“GO!” He bellowed, letting out a pained groan as his transformation completed itself. The last of his shirt tore off him and he stood from the deck. His furious glare met your eyes as you stood dumbfounded at the literally werewolf in front of you. You fumbled in your pockets for your keys, he let out a deep hole and your hands shook, your keys fell from your hands. You had no time. You were face to face with your demise.

You set off into the thicket of trees, cursing yourself for dropping your keys. A sob caught in your throat, as you ran as fast as your legs could take you. You could hear him behind you, twigs snapping beneath his monstrous white paws; crushing them so easily, the image of you breaking beneath him just as easily flashed in your mind. Him snapping your arms under his weight. the agony. Him cracking your ribs as he tore out your trachea with his canines. The vinegary taste of vomit rose into your mouth, you reluctantly swallowed. The crisp forest air made you dizzy as you desperately drank down oxygen, shielding your face from the heaps of brambles that you sprinted through.

The towering blue firs stretched endlessly into the horizon, some thick and ancient others thin, weedy and new. It was only half an hour ago that Bucky had toured you through these woods; he had pointed out marks carved into the trees by previous wonders of this forest, before it had been sold as a plot of land. He told you about the history, he spoke of men, women and children with sepia skin and the horrors they had befallen at the hand of colonisers. But that was all behind you now. Now you were close to becoming history, you could hear his ragged breathing flitting around you as he dashed through trees, as you turned your head back you could see his white fur darting between the foliage. His coat as white as driven snow.

You smacked into the ground, head colliding with the packed, solid dirt slightly hidden by its crispy carpet of orange, yellow and brown. White hot pain ran through your forearms, you swiped your hands over the scraped skin on both. Blood slowly emerging from the pink fleshy wounds. You could hear your heart pounding in your ears

Thump

Thump

Thump

Your lungs burned as you took in gulps of air, you tried to get your feet. You couldn’t. You let out a yelp as you attempted to stand, your eyes flew to your ankle; the skin already tinged purple and red. You hesitantly stroked it, you let out an involuntary whimper and withdrew your hand, offended by your own touch.

Thump

Thump

Crack

Your fate dawned upon you. You swivelled your head around rapidly. You couldn’t see him, but you could hear the low grumble that echoed through the forest. You stared up at the moon. Its buttermilk shine in full intensity, almost blinding, peering through the tree tops at your pathetic state. Mocking you with its beauty. Your vision swims as you snivel at your dejected, miserable state. Werewolves aren’t real. This has to be some sick joke, but you’d seen him turn. You heard his bones crackle and pop as he grew into a humanoid wolf.

You hoped you’d wake up soon from this nightmare.

Crunch

Your head spun to the left, but before your eyes could even focus—he was on top of you. The weight of him pushed you back into the forest floor. You began thrashing against his paws grip, could you even call them paws? They were his hands, rough and calloused but now they had thick black pads on the palms. So familiar, yet unfamiliar. The familiarity brang you reassurance, but the thick tufts of fur tickling your arms brought you unease and foreboding. One of his hands keeps you in place, shoving you painfully into the ground, the pressure making it hard to breath, his claw rips through your thin shorts with ease. His thick black claws cut through the fabric like butter. His nail catches on the globe of one of your ass cheeks, you hiss in pain and try to pull away from him. It’s futile. He warns you against moving with a growl “James. James, please, please stop, I'm begging you. Please.” You plead . He continues, disregarding your whines, shoving himself between your legs, the cold snuffling of his nose is contrasted by warm saliva dripping from his mouth onto your slit. You whimper and close your legs, but his paw grabs your thigh and holds your legs open. His rough paw pad scratched your soft skin and he sunk his claws into your thigh “Ow! Fuck! Bucky!” You yelled, kicking at him with your foot. You regret your action instantly, pain shooting through your sprained ankle. Bucky grumbles and sits on the foot, you let out a deafening scream, the agony making your vision flash white “Get off!” You demand beating your fists into the ground. To your surprise he did, his head returning in between your legs, his muzzle nudging your inner thigh. You heard him take a long inhale before pressing his cold, wet nose to your entrance. His tongue flopped out of his mouth, licking a long stripe from your clit all the way to your ass. He snarled softly and began to feast on your pussy. Despite the pain you were wet, you dug your nails into the dirt below you moaning as his tongue brushed your clit.

It’s just Bucky. You tried to assure yourself, it wasn’t working.

You couldn’t help the dread that ran through you as his thick, rough tongue unskillfully lapped at your pussy. The licks were long and slow, they were not prioritising your pleasure. Instead it was his own form of savouring you, you were a meal to him. You bit down on your bottom lip painfully, he was going to kill you, wasn’t he? Eat you, leave nothing but bone. More tears slipped down your cheeks, your hair clinging to the wet salty trails—tickling at your eyes. His tongue plunged into your hole eliciting a squeak from you in response to the intrusion, you shifted below his grip and he growled; you could feel his tongue vibrate inside of you, his teeth pressing into your lips as he shoved himself further between your legs. His tongue travels deeper into you. You could feel it graze your cervix as he swallowed all your juices. Warm pleasure grew in you belly replacing the sickness that was rising, you were going to come on this monster's tongue.

It’s just Bucky. You assured yourself, this time it helped.

You raised your hips and pressed yourself into him, he let out a happy rumbling in response as he continued to eat your pussy with vigour “gonna come! Ahh- Bucky!” You keened, the vibrations from his purring sending you over the edge. Your slick soaked his muzzle as you came harder than you ever had before. Bucky had always been skilled at eating you out, but his tongue now was unbeatable.He pulled his tongue out and you collected any remaining juices before pulling away. The frigid night breeze blew against your dripping cunt sending a shiver through you.

You felt his thick heavy cock rest against your back, it was scalding hot dripping with precum. You didn’t need to see it to know that it wasn’t going to fit. Just the feeling of the shaft alone, almost as girthy as a coke can. You were mortified “It’s not going to fit! Bucky!” You insisted, pushing on your elbows to get up. He gave a light push between your shoulder blades and you were back on the ground. The small stones and sticks digging into the red impressions already on your cheeks. Bucky let out a snarl, before lining the head of his dick up to your entrance, his hands—borderline paws— push on your shoulders as he thrusted into you. Even after your orgasm, he barely fit. He ruts himself into you with short, shallow thrusts coaxing you open. Pain shots through you with every inch that tears you open. “A-a-ahh!” Your howl. You were sure he was going to rip you in two. He groaned as he bottomed out, he was crammed uncomfortably inside. He couldn’t fit it all inside at this angle. He pulled out and let out a feral growl, that shook you to your core as he began to fuck you. He set a brutal pace, slamming his hips into your repeatedly as roughly as possible. You were so impossibly full. Despite the pain and terror, pleasure began to rise in your hips and knot forming inside you.

He leaned over you, his furry chest flush against your arching back. You felt the point of his sharp teeth glide against your skin and you felt him sniffing at your throat, his hot breath fanning at the back of your neck and the cold dampness of his nose grazing the curve of your neck. You pray he’ll realise it’s you. That he’ll pull out. It was still so painful “James…?” You question in a hushed voice. He doesn’t respond, instead he sinks his teeth into your shoulder and you screech, flailing on the ground against the crushing grip of his claws, kicking up the dirt underneath your feet. His wet, scorching tongue laps at the blood running out of the fresh wounds hungrily and you whimper from the pain that pulses through you every single time. His wolf-like ears turned at the sound he rubbed his snout into your neck, almost as if he was trying to soothe you. His blood stained tongue drinks up the tears sliding down your cheeks “Jamie?” You sob, your pussy involuntarily clenches around him as he moves hips. The bulbous head of his cock collides with your cervix painfully once again. Then he wraps one of his arms fully around your torso and pulls you up so that you are sat straddled on his lap. Your hands fly around his broad neck, grabbing at his fur so as to not fall off of him. In this position his full length fit inside you, you had thought you were full before but now you felt so stuffed, so full of him. The length of him was torturous. You look down at where you’re connected, but the sight of his cock bulging inside of you captures your attention. One of his paws moves from your hips and strokes at the protrusion. He lets out a primal growl and nips at the other side of your throat. If you survived the night you were going to be covered in bites, bruises and scars. This night was going to follow you for the rest of your life. You didn’t know if you’d ever be able to face him again.

His claws cut into your hips, the marks prickling with fresh blood and he squeezes down with a bruising grip. You feel him getting larger inside of you, then reality hits. His knot. He was going to knot you. You threw your head into his shoulder, your hands flying to his head scratching desperately. Whimpering at your impending doom. He let out what sounded like a chuckle at your thrashing, the look he gave you almost as if to say “let it happen bunny.” Your lip wobbled and you shrieked as you felt your hole catch on the expanding knot at the base of his cock “no, mercy, please.” You cried, burying you head into his hairy muscular chest, he still smelt the same

It’s just Bucky. It’s just Bucky.

Your chant wasn’t working as the burning pain from your hole cleared your head of any thoughts. A scream from deep within you left your mouth, as your body made an effort to adjust to his growing size. You bit down on the skin of his coarse chest to muffle your cries, his long white fur glueing to your tongue. The texture disgusts you, but the pain overrides it. The pain overrides everything, even the brief pleasure you felt as he fucked into you was now replaced by pain. You squeezed your eyes shut tightly, his fiery white glowing eyes haunting you even with your eyes closed.

Your eyes shoot open, you bare your teeth groaning at the pain as his knot catches on your hole. His pace becomes sloppy. He’s close, so very close. You throw your head back, the knot inside you snapping, sending a pulse of heat through your entire being as he finally locks inside you; his knot expanding to full size as he paints your insides with his cum, there’s so much. Too much. Your stomach swells with how much cum he pumps into you. You can feel it leaking out of you as he continues to come, moving his hips as much as he can while being trapped inside. Tears leak from your eyes and spit dribbles from your mouth, you can’t help your walls fluttering around him. So overstimulated, so much pain. It’s all become one. The world around you starts to fade away as he lays back, allowing you to be splayed out on his chest. Your body is numb as he twists you so you can bury your face into him. The heat radiating off of him brings you solace as the last bit of adrenaline fades.

“What the fuck happened last night?” He questioned groggily, tousling his hair sleepily. He shielded his eyes from the early morning sun.

Why the fuck could he see the sun?

His blood ran cold. He felt something lying on top of him, his eyes hesitantly drifted below him “Holy shit. Bunny?” He sat up, your body was limp, but warm. Then he took in the state of you. The giant bite mark on your throat, the leaves and twigs tangled in your hair, cuts and bruises adorned your skin “Y/N…?” His voice wobbled, he stroked his rough knuckles over the dark black and purple bruise circling your right eye. Bucky whimpered, his enhanced hearing allowed him to hear your heartbeat. It was weak and laboured. He picked you up in his arms and cuddled you close. Your eyes opened slowly.

“Buck?” You questioned, his heart clenched at your hoarse little voice. You sounded so innocent, so confused and a tad scared.

“I’m right here Bunny. The scary wolf is gone. Bucky’s gonna protect you. I’m gonna make this right I promise.” You smiled contently.

It’s just Bucky after all.

Tag list:

@alina02 @winterslove1917 @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @petesey @getwellsoontana @feyfantome @alexxavicry @ashenc-blog @floral-recs @renster05 @cjand10 @sweetwrathoflilith @shrekwreck @redbloodedgurl @teambarnes72

[mjolnirswriststrap]

Silver Bullet

Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader, Helmut Zemo x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1,670 Masterlist

Summary: The best night of the year, Halloween, turns into a night you just want to forget. PART 1/4.

Warnings: werewolves, cheating, backstabbing best friend, Zemo is a whore, truly.

Red cloaks filled the crowd. This years Halloween parade theme being Dracula. Rob Zombie blared through speakers anchored to lampposts. You and your friends all wore matching costumes, collectively going as the wives of Dracula. It was a good excuse to wear the hottest outfits you could find. Most people paled their skin with white face paint, and molded little pieces of wax to their teeth.

Not you, you wore basically nothing for your costume. Each friend had a different color of fabric, that was loosely draped and cinched around your body. The best way to describe it would be a Greek toga, instead of linen it’s sheer silk, leaving nothing to the imagination. You all wore the same gold collar, a dragon etched on the front; curtesy of the blue bride, Miranda’s, 3D printer.

You didn’t plan on staying, you all agreed to be a part of the parade, once that was over, you were all headed to Zemo’s annual Halloween masquerade. You don’t think he particularly liked having hundreds of people flooding his property every year. But having the biggest house in town was a blessing and a curse. He hosted most festivities for your rather large population of teens and young adults.

You had a fascination with the bachelor. He inherited the mansion, land and money from his grandfather, skipping over his father completely. His family was prominent in the community, both of his parents having a chair at city hall. They volunteered at the food bank and donated to every shelter. Any sane person would think they deserved the money in a way. So why Zemo?

You made it to the party late, everyone leaving the house for the back yard. Zemo had the trees lighted and a dance floor built, always prepared for a celebration. Your friends ditched you as soon as you all got drinks, saying they were going to find their boyfriends. Leaving you to explore the surrounding woods alone.

You nearly drop your red solo cup when you see Zemo pressing Miranda against a tree, practically swallowing each others faces. Tears of betrayal sting your cheeks. She knew you had a crush on him, and she has a boyfriend anyways. You stalk away in anger, losing the trail but not caring. You found a tree far enough from the party that no one would hear your sobs.

You downed the cup filled halfway with vodka, a drop of orange juice for flavor. It dried your tears quickly, leaving your whole body warm. “Stupid.” You say, standing up and brushing the leaves off your dress. “Stupid for liking Zemo.”. You agreed whole heartedly with that. “Stupid for thinking Miranda was my friend.” That’s what hurt the most.

In the midst of your self hate you failed to notice a looming figure. “You’re not stupid.” You jolt, throwing the plastic cup in the direction of the stranger. “Sorry, you scared me.” You giggle, when you see it’s just a guy from the party wearing a phantom of the opera mask.

“It’s okay.” He reaches down and picks up the liter. “Gotta keep our forests clean.” He waves the red in the air. You give him a dry laugh. Men are scary and being alone in the woods with a stranger was causing every alarm in your brain to siren. But the vodka numbed your sense of fear.

“I should get going.” You say, turning and trying to step around the tree. Before you could, the stranger steps closer. “Should you?” He says deeply. He’s close enough now that you can see his piercing blue eyes behind the mask. They render you speechless, the way the moonlight shone off them, put you in a trance. You shake your head, too focused to verbally answer him.

“See, you’re not so stupid after all.” He teases. You have no reaction. His words didn’t fill you with pride or embarrassment. Your veins filled with the distinct warmth of feeling safe. You don’t know where it came from, your body was irrationally reacting to him. You should be shaking with fear and trying to get back to the party, not calmly standing here waiting for something to happen.

It felt like you were locked inside a body that wasn’t yours. It was being controlled by some outside force. You let him reach for you, never flinching away. Your body produced goosebumps where his fingertips grazed your skin. “You’re so beautiful. I’d hate to ruin that.” You nod your head, not even thinking of a single way he could ruin your beauty. Your mind was blank, you couldn’t even say thank you.

“Promise me you won’t resist, once it happens.” You knew nothing of what he spoke, but again you feel your neck bow to him, nodding in agreement. The masked man looks up at the moon, reveling in its fullness. “Are you prepared for no return?” You agree with a nod, now you know you were fully possessed by something. His words should send you running, but a small voice in the back of your head says you would never.

He steps closer again, grabbing fistfuls of your gown, cinched at your waist. “You have to say it. Say I have permission.” His voice was desperate and darker than before. You try to find the words but the influence he had on you was slowly fading, the way he started pressing you against the tree brought you back to your senses. He holds your hips in place as he nuzzles his face into your neck, taking a long deep breath.

The stubble on his chin tickled you and you had to remind yourself yet again that this is a masked stranger in the woods. Even though your senses were coming back, the way his hands lit a fire inside of you was enough to make you not care. That fire pooled lower and lower the closer he got to you. He smelled like a mix of musk and pine. You couldn’t tell if it was him or the trees surrounding you. But it made your mouth water, filling you with a want to taste his skin, just to be sure.

He raises his hand to cradle your cheek, “Please.”. He caught your eyes again, boring into them with an assured look. He focuses on your lips “Just say the words.”.

“I give you permission.” You say them without thinking of the consequences. He sealed your fate by closing the gap between your faces. Pressing his lips to yours. You moved your lips in sync with his, using your free will to wrap your arms around his neck. Before it could go any further the man disappeared. You felt him pull away, when your eyes opened to see why, he was already gone. You searched the surrounding woods with your eyes, there was no sign of him.

You grab your head, wondering if you drunkenly hallucinated. The moisture on your mouth and in your underwear was foolproof evidence that it really just happened. But you still began to question its validity.

You hear a twig snap somewhere near you, in hopes that it was the magnetic stranger you followed it, rounding an old fallen tree you spot a black dog. It was rather large in stature, must be a purebred if it’s that big. You knew an expensive dog wouldn’t be wandering the woods collarless. And you couldn’t remember if Zemo ever mentioned having any pets.

You stepped closer, never fearing animals. You loved dogs, you had a few of your own at your parents house. “Here boy.” You kneel down, reaching out your hand. It finally gives you its attention. Immediately showing his sharp canines, snarling loudly. “Oop.” You stand up and slowly back away, knowing the signs of an agitated dog.

When your view of it is blocked by the tree you turn around and sprint away. Not wanting to receive a rabies shot on Halloween night. You see the lighted trees nearing. That’s when you heard it, rhythmic thumbing coming from behind you. When you turn around you let out a scream, the dog is already pouncing on you, knocking you to the ground. You tray to scramble away. You see people’s feet running towards your screams.

The dog latches its mouth onto your leg, when you try to rip it away it only sinks its teeth deeper. You see Zemo come to your aid with a pool cleaner net, swinging it at the dog. “Get away.” He shouts, he ends up cracking the dog on top of his head with the plastic pole. It yelped, causing your leg to fall out of his mouth. He ran for cover, disappearing into the woods. Zemo drops to his knees beside you, shedding his jacket to wrap it around your bleeding leg.

“Are you okay?” Your eyes full with tears, embarrassment was an understatement. You didn’t want to face Zemo or Miranda. You didn’t want to see all the party goers pity filled faces either. You stood up, sucking a breath between your teeth at the pain. You limped past everyone giving eachother confused glances. Ignoring Zemo and Miranda’s fake concern.

You called your dad, sitting on the curb infront of the house. He rushed you to urgent care, spending the rest of the night with you in the waiting room. You were fine in the morning, a shot and a round of antibiotics set you on your way to recovering. You took ibuprofen for the pain. You called off of work for the rest of the week, needing to stay off your feet.

When you returned the next Monday, your boss told you there was a new bus boy. You waited tables all day before you finally saw him. Clocking in and disappearing to wash dishes. He was cute, dark brown hair and light stubble. He didn’t introduce himself to you or Mary, the other waitress, odd. But you had a feeling the little diner would grow on him eventually.

[trashmenofmarvel]

Created two new Bucky wips and I haven’t done that in years. Feels good.

First one is a werewolf!Bucky one shot. Tony convinces reader to babysit Bucky during his change (called full moon sitting, because werewolves get lonely and sad rather than vicious on full moons). Instead, Bucky ends up dicking her down in full werewolf mode. Feels guilty about it when he wakes up, but she’s 100% into it. Happy ending.

Second is a longer fic with sugar daddy!Bucky. When Bucky realizes that reader has never been a sugar baby before and she panics at the sex aspect, he changes the terms. Instead of gifts/money for sex, he just wants her company at events (and then later at his home because he’s incredibly lonely despite his playboy reputation).

Cue accidentally falling-in-love-sugar-baby style. Possible sugar daddy rivals in the form of Prince Loki and Baron Zemo. Eventual happy ending (after much angst and pining).

[pinkiebieberpie]

werewolf!bucky

what's your favorite scary moodboard?

[marvel-fanfic-writer-8675]

My Love, the Wolf

Pairing: werewolf!Bucky x reader

Warnings: fluff

Summary: your werewolf boyfriend acting like a puppy

*In this, Bucky can transform into a wolf anytime he wants, but during days where it’s a full moon, he cannot choose and he is automatically a wolf for the day, he can still understand human languages but can’t speak them as a wolf.*

You woke up and leaned over to kiss your boyfriend, being met with a furry friend curled up on his pillow instead. This was not an unusual occurrence, you just didn’t expect it this morning. “Did we miss a full moon Buck?” You pulled out your phone and googled it, seeing that it was a full moon that night. “Alrighty, come here pup,” you say up and patted your lap, knowing he would want to come and cuddle with you. The wolf moved to your lap and gave your cheek a lick, “love you too Buck,” you have his head some pets.

The team was pretty used to Bucky’s transformations, they enjoyed having him around, he was more energetic in his wolf form. You and Bucky had the conversation at the beginning of your relationship. Bucky had told you that when he turned he would sort of act like a puppy would; and that the things dogs typically liked made him happy in his wolf form. You agreed to what he was saying with the exception that you were not going to feed him dog food, human food wouldn’t hurt him in that form so you weren’t feeding him dog food.

There was a knock on the door that made Bucky perk up, from the knock you could tell it was probably Steve. “Come on in Steve,” you called out and Steve walked through the door. “Hey Y/N, hey there Buck,” Steve smiled and gave Bucky’s wolf form some pets. These mornings, Steve often took his best friend with him on his morning runs to help get some of the wolf’s energy out. “Wanna go on a…walk? Huh, yeah, you do.” Bucky was getting excited at the thought of a walk. He looked over to you and tilted his head, as if asking if you needed him or wanted him to stay. “Go ahead love, have fun, don’t forget to stay hydrated okay?” Bucky nuzzled his head into you, a saying of ‘I love you.’ You kissed his head and the werewolf followed Steve out of the room.

While Bucky and Steve were gone you got ready for the day, getting a shower and a comfy outfit on, having no plans for the day, it was your day off of training and you were going to relax until tonight’s gala. Right when you were about to get breakfast ready your boyfriend and his best friend got in from their run. You looked to the wolf and saw him carrying a bag from your favorite bakery in his mouth. “He stood in front of the bakery and wouldn’t move until I went in and got you a pastry,” Steve explained. “Aww, thanks Steve,” you crouched down so you could hug your boyfriend, “and thank you my love.” You took the bag from Bucky as you pulled away.

Steve left to go get a shower so it was just you and Bucky. You sat on the couch and Bucky tried to jump up and curl in your lap, “unh uh, nope, smelly dogs do not get cuddles, we gotta give you a bath first love.” Bucky sulked to the floor as you started to eat your pastry. The sight made you sad so you sighed and patted the seat next to you, “oh fine, come on Buck, I’ll just get another shower. Darn you and your cute puppy dog eyes.” Bucky’s face lit up and he hopped up next to you and laid down, his head resting in your lap. You pulled up the show you were both watching and put an episode on while you ate breakfast, feeding Bucky a piece here and there.

Bath time with wolf Bucky was a trip. He would only be calm if you were in the tub with him, and even then he didn’t like the water touching his ears. After many protests from your boyfriend, he was bathed and dried off, coat as fluffy as ever. “There’s my beautiful boy,” you cooed, as Bucky excitedly accepted your pets. “Do you wanna….go for a ride?” Bucky’s ears perked up as he licked your face, “come on, let’s go love! Come on!” You led him to the car and he jumped into the passenger seat.

You first went to the dog store to get Bucky an outfit for the gala tonight. You found a cute dog suit that when you tried to put it in the cart Bucky jumped up, grabbed it and set it back. You laughed and promised you wouldn’t make him wear it. You bargained with him on a bow tie collar to make him at least a little dressed up. You thought he looked very dapper in it, and with all the compliments you gave him he was ready to wear it everywhere as a wolf.

Next up was the few errands Tony needed you to run to get stuff for the night, like a few tablecloths, confirming the catering and flowers etc. After everything was done you surprised Bucky with a little treat. “Hey Buck, you wanna go get a….pup cup?” His head tilted as he heard the words pup cup. Even thought he ate human food and could understand all you were saying….he loved pup cups from Starbucks. You ruffled the fur on the top of his head and drove to the nearby coffee shop. You picked up (your fav drink), a Strawberry refresher for Nat, an Americano for Steve and finally the pup cup for your loving werewolf boyfriend.

Bucky twirled around in a circle as you held out your hand holding the pup cup, he licked it right up, being careless of getting it on the car seats. “James, come on, now we gotta clean these ! Tony’s gonna be pissed!” Bucky smiled, you knew he was just playing dumb. He licked your hand and nuzzled into your neck as an apology. “Oh, how could I stay mad at you?” You kissed the top of his head and drove home.

That night at the gala you walked in, dress flowing, with a wolf next to you who went up to your waist. “Hey, lookin good Y/N,” Nat complemented, “you too Bucky, nice bow tie.” Bucky’s face lit up at the compliment. “Doesn’t he look so handsome,” you cooed. Nat chuckled and walked towards the bar.

The night went swimmingly, and that night you got a shower, and climbed into bed, tired from the day, with your big fluffy cuddle bug awaiting you. You knew in the morning he would be back to his normal, adorable self, but for now you would enjoy his soft fluffy fur. You laid down, head resting on your boyfriend’s chest, his head curled around you. “Night, love you baby.” He grunted softly in agreement.

You could hear Bucky’s soft snores as you woke up, looking over to see his chest rising and falling in time with the noise. You leaned over and kissed his forehead, “morning love,” he awakened just enough to mumble a good morning to you and grumble about not getting cuddles. He went back to sleep as you wrapped yourself around him. You knew it would be another good day.

[avintagekiss24]

Do ya’ll like it if the werewolf talks? … like… can they talk in werewolf form?

[jobean12-blog]

Sunshine in the Dark

Pairing: Werewolf!Bucky Barnes x Vampire!Reader

Word Count: 803

Summary: You share a recent dream with Bucky and he makes it come true.

Author's Note: This is another entry for @pupandkisasaesthetics aesthetics challenge! Thank you to the beauties @sgt-seabass and @rookthorne for hosting! HUGS and LOVE! 💕The picture I got is posted below. I know it's a bright a colorful picture but when I saw it this is where my brain went. I also love this pairing because it's not the usual love story. And you can interpret what he gives her at the break in the story any way you want- could just be cuddles, could be much more intimate...anything you like from him. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰 **Dream description is in italics**

Warnings: it's really soft and sweet with a tinge of sad but it's a happy ending!

PS: this is how I picture my soft werewolf!Bucky in human form. Just beautiful and beefy and that hair and the beard and YUM!

“Tell me what it is that has you smiling like that doll.”

You walk into his open arms, tucking yourself against his chest and resting your cheek to his bare skin.

“I had the most wonderful dream,” you sigh, your smile fading.

“A dream,” he muses. “Tell me about it.”

After you remain silent for some time he strokes your back, gently coaxing you with every brush of his fingers.

“The sky stretched for miles in a brilliant expanse of cerulean blue, devoid of clouds. And the sun…it was dazzling, blessing everything in it’s path with it’s radiant warmth. My skin was glowing as I soaked it in and a soft breeze caressed it just enough to keep me cool…”

Bucky looks down at you, grasping your chin between his long fingers as he tilts your face up to meet his eyes. His brow is drawn in as his thumb sweeps across the outline of your lips.

“And?” he whispers.

“And the sun’s golden rays danced across the water, turning it into a dazzling stretch of blue and green where each gentle ripple was transformed into a glimmering ribbon of light that sparkled and swayed.”

A single red tear rolls down your cheek.

His thumb catches it and he brushes it away, resting his forehead to yours.

“You miss it,” he states sadly.

“So much.”

He presses a soft kiss to your temple, then to your cheek, moving to the other side to do the same before capturing your lips.

“If I could bring this dream to life, I would,” he murmurs against your lips.

“I know,” you answer, ghosting your mouth along his jaw and nipping lightly with your fangs.

Your lips continue to his ear, pressing a kiss just below before you run your nose down his neck with an inhale and rest your head to his shoulder.

“What would you have me do?” he asks. “Anything to have you smiling again doll.”

You fingers graze his forearm, the corded muscles flexing under your touch, then teasingly glide them higher until you reach his collarbone.

When you look up into his eyes, blue like the water you dreamed of, his lips twitch with a smirk and you feel the shift begin, soft fur growing beneath your fingertips. 

“As you wish,” he says, his voice already more of a growl.

The wind rushes past you, your heart pounding with excitement and anticipation. The air is rich with the scent of damp soil and pine and the light of moon filters through the entwined branches above, casting flittering shadows across the ground.

Suddenly, the forest opens up into a small clearing bathed in moonlight. Bucky slows down to a graceful trot, his ears perky and alert. Your breath catches at the sight before you.

“Bucky,” you whisper, slipping from his body but still holding tightly to his dark fur with one hand.

He stills and nudges you forward with his cold nose, staring at the cave entrance. You nod and move toward it, cocking your head when you hear a familiar sound.

You move slowly, taking in every noise and smell with your heightened senses. Bucky’s claws scrape quietly along the rocky floor, echoing off the walls as he follows closely behind and when you reach your destination, you stop dead in your tracks.

The scene is a symphony of darkness and light that unfolds beneath the soft glow of flickering candles and the light of the moon. There in the shadows the pool reveals itself, it’s water shimmering under the illumination of the countless candles surrounding it and an opening in the cave’s ceiling that allows the moon’s glow to infiltrate and bathe it all in a silvery glow.

The light flashes and glitters on the water’s surface, a mirror of liquid moonlight, moving with graceful fluidity. Every ripple becomes a cascade of sparkling diamonds, capturing the moonlight and transforming it into a thousand fleeting stars and each time a soft breeze floats on the air the candlelight falters, casting intricate patterns along the walls of the cave.

You whisper his name again, your voice breaking with emotion.

Then you hear him start to shift behind you, his bones realigning and fur receding. When you turn to look at him his muscles are still rippling under his skin, adjusting to his human form.

He strides toward you, his long hair brushing his shoulders as he bends to scoop you into his arms.

Your lips tremble as they brush his softly. “Thank you.”

He smiles against your lips and walks into the water, cradling you against his chest until you’re submerged up to your chin.

“You’ve given me everything,” you whisper, unwrapping yourself from his arms and spreading yourself out to float above the surface of the water.

“You are everything,” he murmurs.

@book-dragon-13 @hiddles-rose @randomfandompenguin @sebstanwhore @kmc1989 @littleseasiren @buckysdollforlife @late-to-the-party-81 @blackwidownat2814

[thedarkplume]

AN: We've reached the first chapter on Unchain Me, Sister. Thank you everyone for your likes, reblogs, and kind words for the prologue. So, let's jump right in!!

As always, thank you to my Beta @georgiapeach30513 for all her support and encouragement, and a special thanks to @maysdigitalarts for the banners.

CH ~ 1

“Many people both through social media and interviews believe that your magazine, Melanin, is racist. How do you respond to that?”

“I don’t see how anyone could say Melanin is racist,” you hear yourself say during your latest virtual interview with Gayle King on CBS Mornings. You would’ve rather made an appearance on the Today Show with Hoda Kotb and Jenna Hager. At least then you could’ve had the luxury of sipping on Mimosas. You knew the second Gayle greeted you with her plastic smile she was really picking you apart from your Bantu knots and braids to your black matte lipstick and sleeveless wine red jumpsuit with the embellished flounce on your left shoulder to the dog tags you never take off, dangling around your neck.

“So you don’t believe your exclusion of Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson in last February’s issue containing the article African Americans and their Impact in Wrestling, is considered racist?”

You knew that this was basically what the entirety if this bullshit interview was about. The Rock, who you were and still are a major fan, was excluded from your article was Dwayne Johnson pulled a Tiger Woods. He even had the nerve to drop a couple alligator tears about it on Good Morning America. The jackass.

“No, I do not. For one, I did not exclude Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson. He excluded himself when he publicly stated that he identifies himself as Samoan, not Black.” You stopped to take a sip from your iced coffee, heeding Asia’s hand signals to calm down. It made perfect sense that when he father died, he would retract and the world would pretend that his ‘slip of the tongue’ never happened. “I respect Dwayne Johnson’s chosen identity and when we feature Samoan wrestlers impact on the industry he will have a place on that list.”

Not all bad publicity was harmful. While the social media Karen’s had called for canceling you and Melanin (one particularly foolish person went as far as to suggest that your degrees should be taken from you), your magazine sold more copies and subscriptions than ever.

After a poignant pause, Gayle gathered herself. “From one editor to another, the goal of magazine journalism is to reach everyone, not exclude a single group of people.”

“That’s yours and your magazine’s creator’s goal. From the very first issue to the issue my team is currently putting together at this moment, I have stated in no uncertain terms that Melanin’s mission is to promote black excellence and to give others a glimpse of what it means to be a black woman, a black man, a black transgender, a black nonbinary, and a black member of the LGBTQ+ in a world ruled by non-people of color. There’s a full dating section because that’s something we’ve never had with Cosmopolitan. There’s a full recipe section because that’s nonexistent in the Food Network.”

“And what about Essence? Are you saying taht the number one magazine for African Americans does not uphold your standards of black excellence?” her condescending lilt irked your nerves.

“No. In my opinion, Essence Magazine’s definition of black standards means pandering to the actors, something that in no way whatsoever affects the black communities.”

You clicked off the tv, rolling your eyes. Essence Magazine was not at all happy with your response. Sure, you could have printed a retraction, but you never wavered on your beliefs. You refused to start with the competition.

You turned back to your mirror with a sigh. There was a time when you hated the sight of your own reflection. For you, looking in the mirror used to mean seeing the glaring physical differences between yourself, your mother, and your fraternal twin sister Faith. You didn't have your mother's flowing platinum white hair. You didn't have her mysterious seagrass green eyes, but the most defining, discouraging difference between your mother, your sister, and yourself is your lack of magical prowess. Your birth marked the first nonmagical child in your family's history since the 19th century when your ancestor conceived a son through rape.

Being a witch was a staple of the physiology of the women of your family's bloodline. Being witches forged this unbreakable bond between your mother and Faith while creating a deeply hurtful distance between you and them. A distance that grew worse with time. Once Faith experienced her first menstrual cycle, she and your mother left you and your daddy so that Faith could experience life within the coven...or that was the excuse your mother gave.

When you were fifteen, your daddy took you to your favorite restaurant and let you pick whatever DVDs you wanted from Blockbuster. It was his go-to whenever he had to give you bad news. He decided it was time to divorce your mother. Since she and Faith left, your mother had been subsequently expelled from the coven for engaging in an affair with the king of vampires. You can still remember the pain in your daddy's voice. You were hurt and disgusted.

After they left, you spent your summers reading your family's journals. Grandma Althea never spoke to you directly about vampires or her hatred of them, but in one journal written by her sister, Aunt Sheila, she recounted the night Grandpa Cecil was murdered by Robert, the vampire king's father. Your grandma raped and tortured by the ruthless abomination barely left alive. The thought of your mother leaving your daddy for the son of the monster who hurt her own mother and murdered her father sickened you. You don't exactly hate your mother, but you are as close to it as a person can be.

But there was a silver lining. Through your mother's treachery and abandonment, you developed a close, loving relationship with your daddy and grandma. Grandma Althea was crazy about your daddy and graciously opened her home to him when he and your mother married. Grandma Althea was born blind and after Grandpa Cecil's murder, the responsibility of her care fell to your mother as she was the only child. Even to this day, with your daddy remarried and your mother in the wind, Grandma Althea still lives with him.

You inherited everything from your daddy. From your gaptoothed smile to your darker curls. It took years of positive affirmations from your daddy and weekly visits to your therapist to help you see that being different from your mother and sister in both looks and abilities was okay. Now, you held your head high and you were proud to be Sam Wilson's daughter.

Usually, you thought of your mother and sister as little as possible, but those old feelings of resentment and hurt began to stir when your daddy mentioned that your mother was trying to reach out to you for some reason.

You were beyond pissed that she thought she had the right to ask anything of you, especially after the last twenty years of radio silence. Your daddy's eyes held nothing but patience and understanding as you vented your frustrations. "You're allowed to feel angry, but no matter what she's done, she's always going to be your mother, baby."

You shook your head, resolving to think about what you were going to do about your mother and by extension, your sister, another time. Right now you had better things to do. Like getting ready for date night. You patiently unraveled your twists, thrilled over the visible changes in your hair from switching products. You put the finishing touches on your hair and used your Denman brush, giving your curls lift and volume.

With your hair done, you pulled off your robe and set to lotioning your skin with your favorite body butter. Or rather, Bucky’s favorite body butter. He could barely keep his hands off you as it was, but he practically tries to gobble you up whenever he smells the chocolaty scent on your skin. You slipped on your bra and panties thinking over your weekend plans. Bucky and the pack were having another one of their Friday night barbecues. He told you not to worry about bringing anything, but of course, Jensen nixed that thought, texting you earlier in the week. He begged you to bring your homemade mac and cheese and a red velvet cake. You could never say no to Jensen.

You pulled a botanical print blue minidress from your closet. You were going to wear jeans and a flowery blouse, but then Darcy texted you, saying all the ladies were dressing up tonight because it was the first official barbecue of the midway point of the spring season. You were sure Darcy was making that up as a cover for something else, but you went with it anyway because loved the pack barbecues.

You reached for your shoes when you heard the tap tap outside your window. You turn with a grin, happy to see your little friend.

“Alpine!” you hurriedly opened the latch. The snow-white pygmy owl with the oddest blue eyes hooted in greeting. “Where have you been hiding? I missed you.” The little owl cooed against your fingers letting you stroke the top of his head. Alpine adopted you a year ago and normally visited every few weeks, but this last time, he stayed away for almost two months. You were a little worried he might have been eaten by a hawk or something. “You’ve been gone for so long. I don’t have any treats for you today.” Alpine didn’t seem to mind. He was content with just sitting in the palm of your hand. You kept your hand on the windowsill. The few times you first tried pulling your hand inside, Alpine would do a strange little hop and fly back to the windowsill. “I would love to catch you up on everything you’ve missed, but I’m going out.” As if Alpine understood you, Alpine hopped out of your hand and watched you slip on your white Gucci sandals. You glanced back to the window, unsurprised to find Alpine already gone.

You grabbed your purse rooting through it making sure you had your keys, cellphone and charger, and your wallet. You grabbed your small overnight bag, intending to spend the entire weekend on the colony with Bucky. You could pack as less as possible. After the first couple of months of dating, Bucky bought duplicates of your favorite body wash, deodorant, perfumes, body creams, and the sparse cosmetics you used. He even kept his bathroom stocked for your monthly sanitary needs so that you would always feel comfortable. You checked your bedroom one last time for anything you might forget before shutting off the lights.

In the kitchen, you carefully boxed up the double-layer red velvet sheet cake. The macaroni and cheese, well, that was going to be an issue in itself. There were exactly thirteen wolves who all had mates, and dozens of children running around. The men and the children had appetites like literal wolves, so instead of one pan, you ended up making six. You were going to have to call Bucky and tell him even with the cute wicker basket he begrudgingly installed on the front of his motorcycle, just for you, you would probably need to drive your car.

There was a single knock on your door, making you smile. “Baby doll?” he called to you, using his key to open the door.

“In the kitchen!”

Bucky stepped into your kitchen looking like a biker’s wet dream. He wore his tight jeans, dark blue Henley, and leather jacket and boots. “Hey, baby doll,” he grinned, catching you as you launched yourself in his arms. Bucky pressed his nose into your curls, breathing in your scent. “I missed you,” he mumbled against your neck, the touch of his lips had you shivering.

It was only a few hours since you last saw each other, but you felt the same way. Embracing his warmth, inhaling the scent of sandalwood, aged leather, the trees after a rainstorm, and something that was simply Bucky, you felt whole. His strong hands swept under your thighs, lifting you so you could koala hug him, and kicked the door closed behind.

“We may have a slight problem,” you said with your lips still against his neck.

“You mean a problem like you letting Jensen talk you into cooking for the entire pack and now we can’t take my bike?”

You froze, pulling back to look at him. His eyes glittered and his mouth twitched in amusement. Jensen never could keep a secret. “When did he tell you?” you asked with a sigh.

Bucky snorted. “He was antsy the whole day at the site, going on and on about the barbecue and how he should break it to Luci that she didn’t need to cook anything without her taking it personally.” Bucky shook his head. “And we all know Jensen will only risk her giving him the silent treatment if your cooking is involved.” He walked you closer to the counter as he explained, holding you up with his metal hand, and letting the other gently rub your back. “Oh, baby, you didn’t need to do all this.” Bucky opened the smaller Tupperware bowl, looking down at you with a cocked eyebrow.

“You know how much Darcy loves my deviled eggs.” Bucky looked at you with soft eyes, making you squirm in his arms. “What is it?”

“That’s one of the things I love about you. You’re always taking care of everyone around you.” Your face felt hot. Even after three years of being together, you were still not used to being loved and wanted wholly and unconditionally. “After Jensen finally confessed to coercing you--”

“You know that’s not what happened.”

“--he surrendered the keys to his jeep.”

“Jensen let you drive the Blackbird?” the man loved his comics.

“After ten minutes of following me around explaining that she prefers to be handled this way and not that way and that I should thank her after every stop. I swear to God I was this close to putting him in a headlock.”

“Be nice to Jensen. She’s his pride and joy.”

Bucky’s response was to kiss you long and slow until your toes curled in your shoes. You almost considered skipping the barbecue and making it up to the pack tomorrow, but Bucky had other plans. He lowered you down, gathering all the boxes. “Do you have everything?”

“Yep,” you answered, trying to shake off that breathless feeling you get whenever he kissed you. You grabbed your overnight bag, purse, and laptop case, looking back at the stove one last time to check that it was off. “Let’s go.”

Bucky loaded the pans along with your bags into the backseat of Jensen’s Jeep Gladiator, while you climbed in the passenger seat. You spent a great deal of your time in the colony, but a few members of the pack still weren’t overly thrilled that you not only knew their secret, but that you were dating their Alpha. Crimson hair and prying eyes came to mind. Wanda Maximoff never outright expressed her displeasure of your presence in the colony, but you could feel it in the way she looked at you. Whether it was because you didn’t share in their curse or because your ancestors created the curse, you often felt like Wanda hated you. You mentioned it to Bucky once, wondering if Wanda was a spurned ex-lover or a hopeful potential that never quite had the chance to grow into something more. It was not his story to tell, but Bucky assured you there was nothing remotely romantic between them. Wanda was just a grieving woman who lost her husband, sons, and brother in the same year.

You glanced over at Bucky as he drove you out of the Parish and away from civilization. You thought about how much your life would change when you inevitably moved in with him. You knew you would miss New Orleans city life. You would miss the tourists arriving in droves every year to gorge themselves on liquor and gumbo, explore the haunted plantations, and get lost in the music and revelry of the town. But there was a lot to look forward to in living in the colony. They had a community of their own set deep in the woods. There was a school, a grocery store, a drive-in theater, a bar that was kid-friendly between 2 and 4 pm every day and all day on weekends, a baseball field, and your absolute favorite thing of all, the little market and swap meet opened every Sunday.

Bucky noticed your dreamy stare. “What?” he laughed.

“Just thinking.”

“Must be something good with the way you’re looking at me.”

You bite your lip and say it out loud. “I was thinking about how much I’m looking forward to settling into the colony with you.”

His eyes widened and if you weren’t so sure of the love between the two of you, you would have felt discouraged by the sheer panic on his face. “Did Jensen say something to you?”

Your eyebrows rose. “Was he supposed to?” Jake did tell you everything, but if there was something he knew about you and Bucky that he was supposed to keep to himself, nothing and no one could pry it out of him. You took in Bucky’s body language. The way he shifted in the seat. How his eyes flickered from you to the road. The way his hand twitched and flexed atop your bare thigh. “Whenever you’re ready to tell me, I’ll be there to listen.”

His shoulders sagged as he took your hand, kissing the back of it. “Thank you, baby doll.”

A comfortable silence settled between you with Jensen’s eclectic mix of one-hit wonders playing and Bucky humming softly to Level 42’s Something About You. “Um, what?”

Your face felt inflamed when The Weather Girls began to play. Jensen hacked your playlist last year to get ideas for your birthday party and discovered that you listened to It’s Raining Men 10,981 times. “Hey, these ladies had two of the most powerful voices, even better than ninety percent of the ‘artists’ putting out albums now.”

“I’m not saying they don’t,” Bucky placated you with a poorly concealed smirk. “I just didn’t think Jensen listened to disco.”

“You could argue it’s post-disco since it’s 1982,” you shrugged. “Besides, Jensen is pretty open to just about anything.”

“Hmm.” Before you could ask what that one-worded response meant, Bucky said, “I miss hearing you sing.”

“Uh-uh. I don’t sing. You know that.”

“Are you forgetting karaoke night in the Obsidian Arrow?”

“Oh, that doesn’t count! You know Darcy got me drunk off my ass that night.”

“Come on, sing for me, baby doll,” Bucky fought completely unfairly, flashing you those beautiful blue eyes, begging you like he did whenever he wanted you to scream his name.

“Fine, but I want reciprocals.”

His hand inched a little higher up your thigh, his pinkie slipping underneath the hem of your dress. “Since when have you ever had to ask me to reciprocate? If it was up to me, I would spend day and night with my face between those soft thighs.”

“Bucky,” you whined, feeling both embarrassed and aroused. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Okay, okay,” he chuckled. “You sing this and I will sing something for you.”

You hid your knowing smile. Bucky was so eager to agree that he forgot his only stipulation when you asked him to sing. No Mötley Crüe. Bucky starts the track over and you begin to sing, focusing primarily on Martha Wash’s unforgettable lyrical cadence. Partially forgotten memories of Sunday mornings in the kitchen, singing with your mother as she cooks, come to you unwillingly, and in that moment, you don’t hate it.

“That was beautiful,” Bucky complimented sincerely. “ I wish you would sing more often.”

You skip songs on Jensen’s playlist looking for that one you’ve been dying to hear Bucky sing. “Singing is not for me. Faith is the one with the voice.”

“I wish you wouldn’t do that,” Bucky sighed.

“Do what?”

“Make everything about your sister. Immediately expect everyone to favor her because she’s a witch.” Bucky had never met your mother and sister, and given his comments which bordered more aggressive than passive, a small perverse part of you looked forward to the day it inevitably happened. “You’re not a witch, but you’re magical regardless. Will you remember that for me?”

You swallowed the sudden lump in your throat, nodding. “I promise.” Finally, that familiar piano rift you searched for filled the car, and Bucky made a face. “Reciprocals.”

“No, no, no, no, babe, I’m begging you. Anything else!”

“Re-cip-ro-cals,” you repeated.

“You’re killing me, Smalls,” he groaned.

“Need I remind you, the night we met, you literally jumped on the bar and sang Hungry Eyes a cappella just to get my attention?”

“That song is a classic!” he defended, sticking his pretty lips in a full pout. “Besides, it was either I sing Hungry Eyes or Da Ya Think I’m Sexy with the full gyrating hips dance, and there’s no way the pack would ever let me live that down.”

Your mind went blank a little imaging Bucky doing Rod Stewart’s sex dance just for you. “Stop trying to distract me. You promised reciprocals and THIS is the song I want to hear you sing.”

Bucky huffed, shaking his head. “Fine. One time and time only.”

You had been a part of many heated discussions between Bucky and various members of the pack, including Jensen, as to why he hated rock, specifically rock music of the 1980s. You came to learn it was not the music itself, but the bands he hated. He hated the way they squandered their talents on drugs and alcohol, but most of all, he was completely disgusted by the way they used and in many cases, abused, women. It made you love him even more.

But as Bucky started to sing, your eyes misted over. His voice, Jesus, his voice. Bucky singing Home Sweet Home had to be the single most beautiful experience of your life so far. You were never a fan of the band and Home Sweet Home was the only song of theirs with a permanent place in your playlist.

When the song ended, Bucky glanced over at you. His cheeks tinged pink as you gazed at him with your chin in your palm. “Come on, baby doll, don’t look at me like that.”

“But that was so beautiful, Buck!  I could listen to you sing that for the rest of my life.”

“I’ll sing it for you every day,” he promised. “We’re going to have some visitors this weekend.”

“Oh? Who’s visiting?”

“T’Challa, Shuri, Ayo, and Okoye.”

“Really? I’ve missed them!” the Wakanda Pack was Bucky’s biggest ally. In the supernatural world, it was considered an anomaly for a pack of shifters to align themselves with werewolves, but the Wakandans couldn’t care less what anyone thought of them. They even gave Bucky a nickname. The White Wolf. “I wonder if Shuri will have time to braid my hair,” you mused, thinking how the local hairdressers sucked in comparison to the young genius.

“She will if you ask. They’re going to be hanging around for a while.”

“Oh, really? What’s the occasion?”

“Well, we’ve been planning a visit for a while. Either with us coming to them or them coming to us.”

It was a plausible explanation, but you still felt like Bucky was holding something back from you. You could not gauge whether or not it was something bad. You trusted him, though. You always had and you always would.

The moment you crossed over into the colony, you felt an immense sense of ease. You never felt unsafe in your apartment, but the sheer peace and joy you felt being around Bucky’s pack were only equal to being back home with your daddy and Grandma Althea. You could see children riding in the streets, eager to enjoy the last; hour before sunset. Some of the kids even rode up alongside the Blackbird waving at you and Bucky.

You passed the library Bucky, Jensen, and a few of the others were still building. “Oh, Bucky, the library looks amazing.” Bucky showed you the designs months ago, but you were unprepared for the magical, cottage core look. The exterior looked nothing like a traditional library. It was more like a two-story Victorian cottage with Bucky’s special Hobbit front door. “The kids are going to love it.”

“You have no idea. Davey keeps asking me when will we be done so Ms. Wilson can finish reading them The Boxcar Children.” You laughed, remembering the last time the pack threw a weekend barbecue and all of the little children surrounded you on your blanket as you read little Monica the first in the nineteen book series. “We’ll be finished with it by the end of the month.”

To no great surprise, Jensen was waiting for the two of you when you pulled up. “Is she okay? Did anything happen? You remembered how I told you to handle her, right?” he asked Bucky, barely pausing to take a breath.

Bucky opened the door for you, helping you climb down. You turned away from the two wolves grabbing your bags from the backseat. “Jensen, if you don’t the hell out of here about this damn Jeep--”

“Hey, that’s my girl you’re taking in vain like that!” Jensen yelped.

“I wouldn’t have had to touch your girl had you not roped my girl into cooking for you.”

“Oh, like I’m really the only one who begs for Rogue’s cooking!”

Bucky rolled his eyes, hard, at Jensen’s nickname for you. “You know what--?”

“Okay, okay,” you stepped between them knowing that Jensen would keep poking and prodding at Bucky until they were both on the ground wrestling like rambunctious pups. “Jensen, will you please grab the food out of the Blackbird and put it with everything else so we can drop my bags off?”

“Of course,” Jensen smiled sweetly, pecking you on the cheek, ducking smoothly when Bucky went to cuff him on the back of the head. “OOH, do I smell deviled eggs?”

You smacked his hands away as he was reaching to open the tray. “Don’t you dare. Those are for Darcy.”

“Aww, but there’s so many! Can’t I have just one?” he pouted at you.

“You can have one,” you shrugged, watching his eyes light up. “But ask yourself this, is being turned into a throw rug at the hands of a hormonal eight months pregnant mom-to-be because you got in the way of her cravings really the way you wish to leave this earth?”

Jensen paled. Darcy was as sweet as can be, but these last few months she was a complete lioness. “Fine. I’ll leave them alone.”

“Smart man,” the familiar gruff voice spoke up behind Jensen. Brock Rumlow, Darcy’s husband, and the next in command after Jensen, reached past the both of you. “I’ll take these. If Darcy rips your head off I’m not lifting a finger to stop her. Rumlow’s eyes flickered to Bucky with indifference. “Barnes.”

“Rumlow.”

You never quite understood how Bucky and Rumlow could be in a pack together. They seemed a breath away from mutual hatred, perhaps even enemies in another life, but it always tickled you to see this 5’3 woman make the towering, perpetually angry man quit being an asshole long enough to respect the man that offered them safety and sanctuary.

“Thanks for making these for, Darce,” Rumlow said, taking you by surprise. You’re pretty sure he’s only ever spoken to you once and that was when Bucky first introduced you to the pack. Three years ago. “I’ve tried, but she only likes yours.”

Even something as simple as not getting a deviled egg recipe quite right was taken as a failure in Rumlow’s eyes. You normally hoarded your recipes like a dragon collecting gold, but… “I’ll give you a copy of the recipe tomorrow.”

If you blinked, you would have missed the smile brightening Rumlow’s face giving you an inkling as to what Darcy saw in the man. “Thank you.” He cut his eyes to Barnes, his expression going blank once more. “Barnes.”

“Rumlow.”

He stalked away with his wife’s deviled eggs without bothering to speak another word to Jensen. “So, that happened,” he mumbled, watching Rumlow’s retreating form. “I’m going to go and get the steaks on the grill. Hurry and bring her back, Jimmy, everyone’s been dying to see her.”

Bucky carried your bags up the steps to his cabin. You could already smell the grill and hear the faint sounds of children’s laughter from the lake. The first time you realized all the cookouts and parties were held down by the lake, your anxiety spiked to one hundred. Bucky, love and pride swelling in his eyes, took your hand and let you watch the kids, some no older than four-years-old swim like Olympic medalists.

You stepped inside Bucky’s cabin blinking slowly. Your boyfriend had been busy since your last visit. It was already beautifully built, and the biggest in the colony in cases of attacks, but now the stairwell leading to the top floor was carpeted. The pillars were no longer wood, but cobblestone. The wood was now varnished and looked more red than brown. He replaced the leather furniture with the softest, plushest couches and chairs you’ve ever touched. Fresh flowers were placed on end tables and there were three realistic-looking trees placed around the living room that you’ve never seen before.

You turn to Bucky. He stood at your side brushing his hands down his jeans and looking anxious. “I thought maybe it was time to leave behind the rustic look. If there’s anything you don’t like or want me to bring in just tell me and I’ll--”

“Baby,” you put your hands on his chest, bringing them to his shoulders. “You don’t have to change anything for me. I love the way it looks, and I love the way it looked before. I’m happy when you are.”

Bucky closed his eyes, gently pressing his forehead against yours. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Yes, you do.”

“No, I really don’t.”

“Bucky, you’ve been odd all night. Is something wrong?”

Instead of answering you, Bucky gestured for you to take a seat on the couch. You did, taking off your shoes, and watching him start a fire in the fireplace. Warmth quickly spread through the room. You could have dozed off if you weren’t so concerned about what Bucky could be holding back from you.

He sat beside you, taking off his jacket. “I haven’t been completely honest with you.”

“Bucky, if this is the part where you confess to me that Jensen’s famous steaks come from the two-legged variety rather than four, I should tell you that I already figured that out.  We don’t have to talk about it.” It was obvious to you when you realized the steadily declining crime rates while missing person cases of violent criminals were on the rise around New Orleans.

Bucky’s lips twitched. “Glad to know our choice of beef is Wilson Approved.” His smile dropped along with his shoulders. “But that’s not what I have to tell you.”

You take Bucky’s metal hand between yours waiting patiently for whatever it is he wants to confess. He keeps his gaze on your hands. Your soft brown skin entwined with the cool black and gold vibranium gives him strength.

“How much do you know about wolves and werewolves?”

You think back to the summers when you were a child and would visit Grand Aunt Sheila and Bonnie. While you couldn’t perform magic, she still thought it was vital that you learn everything about the supernatural world hidden from the eyes of mundanes.

“Wolves are more like shifters. They’re born. They can transform whenever they want, but it’s mostly during full moons. Werewolves are wolves that have activated an ancient curse by…” you hesitated.

“…by killing a human.” You would give anything in the world to never see Bucky smile that way again. “You can say it.”

“The war?”

“No, incidentally, war is considered a necessary evil in means of protection. All of us—Rumlow, Jensen, Barton—had our own packs. Until we activated the curse.” Bucky reached up to fiddle with his dog tags dangling around your neck. “I should’ve never gone to the army. I always thought that this power of the wolf, this gift, should be used to help those weaker than us. I served two tours before they discharged me due to a severe head injury. By all medical prognoses, I should have fallen into a coma. When I came home, things had changed within my pack. The pack leader formed an alliance with the king of vampires for more territory.” Your hand tightened around Bucky’s as a sick feeling settled in the pit of your stomach. “It was unnatural. We’re enemies. We fight and we kill each other. But Pierce was greedy. He wanted his hand in everything. It made him feel powerful. Somehow or another, my youngest sister Rebecca got mixed up with the vampire king’s son. Bryce.”

For a second, Bucky’s eyes flashed yellow and little ripples flowed over his skin as his emotions threatened to unleash his inner beast. You moved closer unafraid of the wolf clawing to the surface because of whatever horrors Bryce’s memory invoked. You dreaded the ending to this tale. You remembered that Bryce had his own section in your family’s journals. He was Steve’s son born to his human mother Margaret. Bryce was known for two things, his ethereal beauty, and his savage nature.

“I had other sisters, but Becca was my baby. I was the only one who could get her to stop crying when she was teething. She took her first steps toward me and my name was her first word. She was devastated when I left. My parents hated the idea of Rebecca being anywhere near Bryce and the other vampires in his nest, but Pierce encouraged it. He said that factional integration was good for future generations.”

“From what little the witches kept in recorded entries about Bryce, he was nothing more than a depraved monster hiding behind a beautiful face.”

“But Becca didn’t realize any of that until it was too late. She always saw the good in everyone, even when there was never any good to begin with. Bryce had more than his share of lovers in humans and even a rumored witch or two. It became a running joke that my sister was his pet puppy to play with when he was bored.” And just like that Bucky’s fury gave way to crushing sadness. “She grew tired of his games and disrespect. She ended up meeting someone else, an orphan runt who was more human than wolf. His name was Johnny and he was smitten by Rebecca from day one.”

“Smitten?” you teased, sort of delaying the inevitable.

Bucky scoffed playfully. “Yeah, just like I’m smitten with you.”

You bit your lip dreading the answer when you asked, “what did Bryce do?”

“Pierce,” Bucky growled. “I don’t know all the details, but Pierce somehow got Johnny far enough out of our territory for Bryce’s goons to grab him. He used Johnny to lure her away. I…” Bucky trembled, tears spilling down his cheeks. “I could feel her. Her fear, her agony.” Your chin trembled as you struggled to hold yourself together for Bucky. You knew exactly what he meant. Even after all this time apart, you could still feel when Faith was immensely happy and when she was unimaginably sad. “We found her in an abandoned warehouse on the edge of their territory. She was naked and beaten so badly that she was almost unrecognizable. Her body was covered in bite marks. Our blood tastes like shit to them. Her being bitten was not even about feeding, it was only to hurt her more than she already was. We brought her to Dr. Banner, the only doctor we trust with our people. Even with our advanced healing, her injuries were too severe. There was nothing he could do. Dad brought her home so that in her last moments, she would be surrounded by everyone who loves her. I didn’t want to let her go. Dr. Banner told us that she was already gone, but…I didn’t want to let her go. She died in my arms.” You quickly climbed onto Bucky’s lap, his arms encircling your waist as he sobbed into your shoulder. You slipped your hand under the back of his shirt, stroking up and down the length of his spine, and used your other to scratch his scalp. You held him close, comforting him as long as he needed. “After we buried, Rebecca, Pierce Alpha commanded me to not seek retaliation against Steve’s little bastard. That was the final straw. My dad snapped and challenged him for leadership of the pack. It was a long, brutal battle. The rest of us could only sit and watch as the two strongest people in our pack fought to the death. But in the end, dad got his teeth into Pierce’s throat forcing him to surrender. We all felt the power shift and I didn’t wait. I took off searching for Bryce.” Bucky looked at you, his eyes bloodshot and his voice heavy with grief. “I was so angry. I didn’t stop to think what the consequences of pursuing Bryce might mean for my pack.”

“How long did it take you to find him?”

“Three days. He was in what looked like an abandoned warehouse on the outside. Inside he made his own nest with gold pillows and red silk sheets. There were six other vampires with him and dozens of humans. The place reeked of sex and blood. He had another victim with him. Some kid. Couldn’t have been older than fifteen.” Bucky’s lips curled in disgust as the memory seemed to replay before his eyes. “He told me his name was Finn. He smirked at me and said, ‘he’s not as good as Rebecca was, but I played too hard with that toy.’ I lost it. I shifted before I realized that I was exposing myself to a room full of humans. There was screaming and running.  His little posse kept us apart long enough for him to get away, but that arrogant little shit thought he was untouchable. He was still lounging on his throw pillows watching me slaughter his friends.” Bucky shook his head. “I don’t remember much about the rest of the night. I attacked him, but the kid either got in the way or Bryce forced him between us. The moment his heart stopped beating, I felt it. I felt it because I was the one who killed him.”

“Bucky,” you whispered, hating the pain and anger he was still suffering under. “You didn’t mean to do it. It was an accident.”

“That’s the thing though. I’m not so sure it was an accident. I saw any and everyone associated with that piece of shit as a contributor to my sister’s death. It didn’t matter whether or not it was an accident anyways. I killed a human and that was enough to activate the curse.”

“Did the change happen right away?”

“No, but I could feel something getting ready to boil over inside me. Steve and his nest mates made it just in time to see me rip Bryce’s throat out.” That was a painful way for a vampire to die. Wolf and werewolf bites were lethal. With a vampire’s rapid healing, you could only imagine how many times the wound tried to heal itself just to rip open again and again until he died for the final time. “I knew they would kill me. I didn’t care about living or dying then. I wanted justice for my sister and I got it. I just didn’t expect the retribution.”

“What happened?”

“They kept me hostage for, I don’t know, weeks months, torturing me with silver chains and wolf’s bane. Eventually, Steve dragged me from his dungeon. I thought this was it, I’m finally going to get to see my sister again. But death was not his plan for me. He brought me back to my territory. My pack, my family, were laid out on the grass, tortured, mutilated. Barely alive. Steve forced me down on my knees so I couldn’t turn away. He said, ‘you took my son from me, now I will take everything from you.’ He…he pulled a lighter from his pocket and…I can still hear their screams. Still smell the burning flesh. He grabbed my arm and twisted and pulled until it was only hanging on by a piece of skin.”

You didn’t mean to cry. You wanted to be strong for Bucky,  but as you envisioned in your mind’s eye, King Steven’s cruel blue eyes, glaring emptily at Bucky, enjoying the physical anguish he was inflicting, you broke down. Bucky held you tightly, shushing the heavy sobs wracking your body.

“What? What is it?”

You tried to calm down enough to get the words out. “How? How can you stand being with me knowing my mother is his mistress?” you hiccuped. “He—he took everything from you! How can you look at me and not hate—?”

“Never,” he said, firmly, his eyes hard and unwavering. “Your mother destroyed your family because she thought she deserved better than what she had. That’s on her, not you. I love you more than anything in this world. I want you by my side always.” You started crying more when Bucky reached in his pocket and pulled out a ring box. “I pictured this moment with fewer tears from both of us,” you shared watery laughs. “But I wanted you to know everything about me before I ask. Will you marry me, baby doll?” he opened the box revealing a beautiful diamond-encrusted rose gold, opal engagement ring with green moss splintering across the opal.

You glanced at it for a split second. “Yes, Bucky! Yes, I’ll marry you!” you kissed him hard, barely giving him any time to slip the ring on your finger. Bucky picked you up in his arms, still kissing you as he carried you upstairs.

Outside you heard a chorus of baying howls and small yips as the pack, who were apparently eavesdropping all the way from the lake, celebrated.

tagging: @georgiapeach30513 @autumnrose40 @avintagekiss24 @boxofbonesfic @xxindiglow @specialk-18 @luxeavenger @geminixevans-stan @thanatosfic @the-iceni-bitch @caffiend-queen @fineanddandy @lookiamtrying @angrythingstarlight @foxgloveprincess @rustytricycle @jobean12-blog @vampy-doll @mypoisonedvine @lotusss-flowerbomb @navybrat817 @maroonsunrise83 @gotnofucks

[vvolfstare]

@defectivexfragmented

Falling in with the circus had been a temporary measure. Hydra was hot on his heels, and he needed a fast and easy way out of town. He’d slipped aboard the train and wandered around at the next stop, watching people put up tents and rehearse acts. There were so many of them, nobody seemed to notice an additional stranger. It was more color and noise than he’d been subjected to in a long time, and not everything there was human. Actually, he'd guess maybe 15% were ordinary humans. He could identify some of them (the undead reeked, for example), but many were things he'd never encountered before. Almost as if by instinct, he stayed away from the ones with the black eyes that stank of sulfur.

It was as good a place as any to catch his breath. It moved often, there were constantly people in and out, and he could escape in any direction if he had to. On his third day there, someone shoved a toolbox at him and asked him to take a look under the hood of a truck. To this day, Bucky didn’t know if they had mistaken him for the real mechanic (there wasn't one, at least not that he'd ever seen) or had been offering him a job, but after that, he just… stayed. He told himself at first that it was just for a few days, to make sure Hydra had really lost his scent. Then it was a week, and two weeks, with no sign of them, and then months had passed.

It wasn’t peaceful. It was chaos, actually, but the chaos protected him. He kept to himself and rarely spoke to anyone outside of one or two syllable answers about a vehicle. Sometimes he watched the acts, many of them fueled by actual magic or the supernatural passed off as pretend. It happened slowly over time, the realization that it might be something similar that protected the circus from harm. It wasn’t until he'd stared straight into the face of a known Hydra handler, only for him to walk right by without even recognizing him, that he'd had it confirmed. He didn’t know exactly how it worked, and he didn’t need to. 

It had made him complacent. On full moon nights, he had no choice but to run outside that circle of protection. While he had some measure of control over his own mind, it wasn’t infinite, and it wasn’t safe for the wolf to be around that many people. He'd run too far, lured by the freedom of actually stretching his legs, snowy white paws eating up the ground and letting out some of that pent up energy. Of course Hydra would know what to look for. They’d done this to him in the first place.

He’d sensed the trap too late, and running didn’t work for long before he turned to fighting. The wolf wasn't as efficient as the soldier. Despite the claws and teeth, it couldn't strategize the way his human brain could even under layers of brainwashing and conditioning. It fought on instinct, teeth snapping and flesh tearing, but weapons beat instinct almost every time. A gunshot wound had slowed him down, kept him from outrunning them, and then they'd switched to cattle prods, lightning bolts scattering his thoughts and calling up other images, other memories, too horrifying and specific for the wolf to comprehend except for the feelings that came with them. It understood fear and pain just fine, and snarls turned to whimpers as he cowered under them.

[stuckysbike]

Howl 5

Werewolf AU

Werewolf!Bucky x Werewolf!Reader

Alpha!Bucky x Omega!Reader (for now).

Warnings: werewolf Bucky, werewolf Steve, werewolf Nat, dark themes. Mature, 18+. Exes to lovers (hopefully). Descriptions of adult dancing. Some rough handling for reader from Bucky. Angst.

Previous

As Steve’s enforcer, Bucky was always kept busy, so you didn’t see much of him.

Those first few days after you rescued Jamie you rested, getting your strength back and spending time with your little boy, reinforcing your bond and reminding him how much you loved him.

Getting him into school was easy, Becs was a teacher, and you settled into a routine.

Bucky seemed happy to have company and he indulged Jamie with books and toys. You understood, he had years to make up for but you’d always struggled with extra gifts and you felt inadequate.

Bucky kept you at arms length, you suspected on the advice of his friends and family. You had hoped he’d be more generous with time for you but all his spare time was devoted to Jamie and father son bonding. You rarely joined them for outings and it hurt, you’d never been able to do those things either but you were here on Bucky’s charity so you didn’t complain least he chase you out.

You busied yourself cooking and cleaning and trying to earn your keep but eventually cabin fever began to settle in.

You went out to find a job, but they were few and far between and those that were advertised were suddenly filled when you enquired, so when you pulled into the parking lot at Dance, you hope no one that you knew spotted you.

Inside you relaxed, you let your body settle into the music, that familiar rhythm. Trev hired you for a few afternoons and a Friday night. You told Bucky you’d got a job in a bar, technically not a lie. He didn’t question it.

You had been back six weeks when Natasha called you wanting a visit with you. She was a lawyer, and she needed to discuss some important matters. Curious you went to the appointment.

“You’re a lucky young lady,” Natasha said.

You frowned, unsure of what she meant.

“Your birth parents left you a very generous care package after they died. Your stepfather had used all the funds that were accessible but there are bonds and properties that you’ll have access to every few years.”

“So I’m not as broke as I thought?” You asked.

“You’ll get a lump sum payment when you’re 28,” Natasha said. “Another when you’re thirty and so on,” Natasha said. “Your step-family were trying to have you declared dead to access your assets. I suspect that’s why they ran you off.”

“Bastards,” you muttered to yourself.

“Unfortunately there’s no money right now. We can sue but with your step father in the mines awaiting trial it will be a long arduous process,” Natasha explained.

“It’s okay I got a job,” you said.

Natasha nodded. “How are you settling in?”

You smiled. “It’s weird not running away, I’m still finding my feet.”

“Jamie seems happy,” Natasha said.

“He’s my priority. How do I make sure he’s taken care of?” You indicated the files.

Natasha smiled. “I have a money man, I’ll set up an appointment. Why don’t we get lunch?”

You smiled, thrilled to be asked to join her for lunch. Perhaps you could make some new friends if your old ones were reluctant to thaw out.

—————

As the weeks went past Bucky kept a distance. There were moments where you thought he was going to kiss you, moments where you caught each other off guard, but he’d push away, and your heart would break just a little more.

Living here was worse than you and Jamie hiding out from your family, from Brock. At least you knew what they wanted from you but with Bucky it was torture.

His family remained cold towards you, as did Steve, but you pushed through it, focusing your free time on Jamie and doing your share of the household chores.

Brock, your step father and step brother and sheriff Rollins were all sentenced to time in the mines, and you couldn’t help but feel relief at that, knowing you had a little more freedom.

You hadn’t went to the trials, you weren’t required so you kept your head down and got on with your life, but you knew that something would need to change sooner rather than later.

—————

It happened so fast, you were upside down, your legs wrapped around the pole, your hands holding your breasts as if they might escape the bra you wore.

And then you saw him. It was just a flicker, and you pulled yourself up, twisting and turning into a few different moves before you got the chance to look, but there, a few tables away from your podium was Bucky, Steve and a few of the pack sipping on beers and admiring the girl in front of them.

He hadn’t spotted you yet, and you hoped he didn’t but you knew he would, he was a sharp guy. Rayna wiggled herself low, her ass in Bucky’s face as he slid a few bills into the waistband with a saucy grin.

The boys laughed at something Bucky said and as the music changed you stepped away from your podium, smiling at Kitten as she took your place and made your way to the changing rooms at the back. You were almost at the door when a strong hand wrapped around your upper arm and you were looking into Bucky’s crystal blue eyes. He looked down to your toes, then back up, his breathing deep.

Your heart raced as he leaned closer, your eyes fluttered and you could feel the tension tide.

“Outside. Now,” he said as he started walking and you followed in your heels, conscious that you only wore a tiny bra, a tight corset and a thong. You stumbled on a stone but Bucky yanked you upright as he headed towards the parking lot.

“Bucky-“

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Bucky snarled as your back hit the wire fence. He looked over you, whiskey tainted breath fanning over your cheeks.

“I need to make money somehow,” you said, looking at him through your eyelashes.

“By whoring yourself out?” Bucky’s eyes darkened and he gripped your arm tighter.

It was a mild night, for March, but you still shivered when he looked you over again. “I’m dancing. I don’t fuck the punters.”

“You told me you were working in a bar,” Bucky snarled. His chest vibrated with a deep growl.

“There’s a bar in there, they serve alcohol,” you shrugged.

Bucky’s eyes flashed and he looked skywards for a moment. “Is this really the life you want, dancing for them?” He hissed as he nodded towards the club.

“You’re a piece of shit you know that Buck. Ten minutes ago you were in there with your beer and your whiskey and your dollar bills sticking them in Rayna’s panties but you see me and go all high and mighty you fucking hypocrite!” You cried the last part out, shoving at his broad chest but he hardly moved.

“You shouldn’t be doing it. Your the mother of my child!” Bucky snarled.

“Yeah. I am. How do you think we got by Buck, running and hiding from my step family? I was like some sort of fucking Cinderella only I wasn’t lucky enough to have a Prince Charming!”

“You had me? What the fuck was I huh?” Bucky was furious and your head hurt from all the suppressed emotions.

“Difference is, Prince Charming looked for his girl after she left her glass slipper behind, you just fucking moped over me,” you snapped. This time he moved when you shoved him.

His eyes were wide, lips parted and chest heaving.

“I waited for you, out at Heart Lake. Our spot by the tree. I waited three fucking days for you, then I came back all the time. To our spot. I came back and waited for you until I couldn’t any more. So yeah I ran away but I didn’t go far.” You laughed, even as tears burned your eyes, and shook your head. “Who am I kidding I was no Princess, girls like me don’t get a Prince, we just get a fuck ton of baggage and a broken heart.”

You walked towards the club, the sound of the music carrying towards you. Bucky didn’t move, he stood where you left him staring at a spot on the ground.

You opened the door and found your boss easily. “I gotta’ go home Trev,” you said and he nodded. He wasn’t a bad guy to work for.

You changed and grabbed your stuff and on the way out you noticed Bucky was back sitting with his friends, his thumb picking at the label on the beer bottle. You waited for sixty seconds or so, and when he didn’t look over, even after Steve noticed you and whispered something to him, you left.

[pandagirl45drawing]

<.<