a/n: ahhh here it is! february's poll fic! hope you all enjoy the twisted tale it became!
polls for this fic: 1 | 2 | 3
summary: sucking in a breath, he stared down at you before stating firmly, “…I want to be human again. No matter the cost…”
warnings: beast/werewolf!bucky barnes x reader, smut, dark content, noncon/dubcon, fairytale retelling, soulmate au, prisoner x captive, predator x prey, monsterfucking, magical castle (except it's alive in the sense that bucky can control it because of the curse), violence, references to murder, bondage, dirty talk, size difference, size kink, belly bulge, gaping, manhandling, knotting, overstimulation, oral, squirting, multiple orgasms, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie
word count: 3505
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Your lungs burned as you dashed through the cold castle, your cloak billowing behind you as you tried to navigate the dark halls.
But as you whipped your head around in your frantic search, your eyes caught sight of a dusty portrait on the wall that stunned you to your very core and momentarily caused you to forget about the vital matters at hand.
Though scratched up by angry streaks, you still recognised the face that the painting portrayed. Although you had never met him, it was still the visage of the very man who had haunted your dreams for as long as you could remember. You’d never previously known if the man of noble birth had been real or just a figment of your imagination, though his tormented life, and the terrors he’d had to endure every month when the moon above became the prince’s master, had flickered in your mind almost every night.
A distant scream then rang out high up in the eastern tower and echoed through the castle till it found your ears and ripped you away from your discovery.
Darting down the dim hall and up a winding stone staircase, you soon found the elderly man you’d left your little village to find, bolted and locked away in a freezing cell.
“Papa!” you cried out as you lunged forward and grasped the iron bars dividing you both.
Achingly pushing himself up to his feet, he scurried closer and gasped, “what are you doing here?” his eyes as big as saucers.
“Getting you home,” you felt a tear roll down your cheek before your fingers brushed over your father’s knobbly ones, “oh, papa, how did this happen?”
“No, darling, listen to me, you must leave here at once, it isn’t safe,” he urged in a hushed tone as his eyes darted to the shadows behind you, “go! Run away before he finds you!”
“Who?” you asked, but before your dad could be the one to fill you in, a low growl rumbled throughout the space. Spinning around, you glanced around the darkness, “who’s there?”
“Oh no…” your father whimpered, “he’s back…”
Keeping a hand clutched over your dad’s, you sucked in a deep breath and yelled, “let my father go!”
“The very least that thief deserves is to rot in a cell,” a deep voice chilled your bones, though your wild eyes still couldn’t find the source.
“Thief?” you panted, “no, he would never–, it has to be a misunderstanding–”
“He stole a rose,” a trickle ran down your spine as you recalled what flower you had requested for your father to bring back home for you, “it was this sentence or death.”
“You truly demand a life for a rose?” your eyes continued to dart through the darkness.
“Please, darling–,” your dad begged you to stop, though you swiftly cut his efforts short.
“Let me take his place,” you pleaded. Keeping your gaze twisted away, you flinched as your father’s protests seeped through the metal bars, “I was the one who asked for the flower, so I should be the one taking the penance.”
A low snarl rumbled in the night as the unseen figure thought it over, though as he did, he shifted just enough for you to make out the faint silhouette of him, huge and hulking, unlike any man you’d ever seen before.
But instead of offering you his verdict in words, he instead, by some mystical means beyond your comprehension, unlocked the cell door by his sheer will.
As it creaked open with a loud groan, you rushed in and threw your arms around your father.
“I can’t let you do this,” he stated, pulling back from the hug.
“It’s going to be alright,” you tried to assure him, though tears still streamed down your face, “I love you.”
“No, darling, no–,” he continued to protest, before a massive arm suddenly reached out of the shadows and snatched up your father by the scruff of his neck, “ah!” the old man screamed as his captor dragged him out of the cell.
“Don’t hurt him!” you tried to follow, but the iron door was slammed shut in your face, “please!”
Halting at your words for but a moment as the broad figure began to accent the stone steps, pulling your father after him like a burlap sack, he muttered in a low tone, “silly peasant girl…” the moonlight streaming in from one of the small windows caught and illuminated him just enough for you to discover that he wasn’t a human at all, “you should have just run away when you had the chance…”
Curled up in the corner of the cold cell, you shivered violently as you hugged your knees even closer to your chest, though swiftly jumped as you suddenly heard a pair of heavy footsteps stomping up the winding staircase.
As you scurried to crawl even further away from the dungeon door, the towering beast appeared once again on the other side.
“Eat,” he growled after he’d kicked a plate in through the sliver of space at the bottom of the door.
Your stare only flickered down at the stale bread and the tankard of water for a mere moment before it darted back up to the monster before you.
“Who are you?” you gathered the courage to ask, “what are you?” though the beast didn’t bother entertaining your questions, only grumbled quietly before he shifted back towards the steps, “please,” you called after him, “I’m already your prisoner, what harm could a few questions do?”
Stopping in his tracks, he let out a heavy sigh, “more than you’d think,” before he disappeared from your sight.
A painful gasp filled up your lungs as you snapped awake, swiftly shooting up to a sitting position.
It had seemed so real… the careful seduction honeyed enough to make your core throb even now, to the loss of control and blind rage that swiftly followed each disappointment…
Though you knew it just to be a figment of your imagination, you still trembled at the possibility of it being true. Princesses, more than you could recall, had all, one by one, been taken to this castle. The gentle side of the beast that he had granted them each the privilege of witnessing nearly scared you with how efficiently it had not only wooed them, but also had made your own heart confused for even but a moment.
Though after he had carried them off to bed and made love to them in a manner you could quite literally only dream about, something, unbeknownst to you, would cease to take a hold, a failure that each time would cause the monster to snap, and in the mindless frenzy, he would accidentally take the royal’s lives, each and every time.
Panting as you tried to calm your rapid pulse, your weary eyes finally noticed the shadow lurking on the other side of your cell.
“Are you gonna kill me like you did with all of those princesses?” you hesitantly asked in a hushed tone.
Shifting his weight, he slowly tilted closer and uttered darkly, “how do you know about that?”
“Are you?” you insisted, “because then you might as well just get it over with instead of drawing it out–”
“No!” he roared, “you’re no good use to me dead,” his beastly head then tilted, “but if that’s what you wish, then…”
Sucking in a breath, your stare stayed glued on him before you muttered, “depends on what you’re planning to do with me…”
“Well, since you don’t have any blue blood running through your veins, you aren’t what I need. But perhaps I can still find some use of you. Maybe, if one day you change,” or more like break, “forget about that meaningless life you had before and grow loyal to me, then you could live out the rest of your days as my servant, assist me with whatever I may require.”
“Like getting you more royals to murder? I won’t help you with that,” you dared to stand your ground, “is that also what happened to the man in the paintings downstairs, the ones that are all scratched up? Did you kill him too, just to have his castle?”
Your words caused the creature’s features to get muddled as he then blinked, “I didn’t–…” swallowing hard, his jaw clenched before he continued, “he’s not dead, not yet at least. Though I fear he doesn’t have much time left.”
“Can I see him?” you heard your own heartbeat thump in your ears, “I know it sounds crazy, but I think I might, some way, somehow, be able to help him.”
Staring back at you, the monster then uttered, “…you’re staring at him,” causing you to seize up in shock before you slowly heard him say, “prince James Barnes,” he introduced himself, though with a hesitancy as if the memory of his own name had begun to fade away, “though everyone always used to just call me Bucky.”
Scarcely breathing, you uttered, “what happened to you?”
Averting his gaze, he began to explain, “…I’ve always had this affliction, ever since I was but a child, each time the moon would stand full and proud in the night sky, I would change, lose control… I was young and dumb… hunted the wrong doe…” he uttered, though the way he phrased it made you think he wasn’t speaking of a deer at all, “so now, instead, I am cursed to live like this each day that doesn’t bear the same full moon I used to fear, slowly losing my myself with every month that passes, becoming less human and forgetting about those ways… if I do not break the curse before the next eclipse, then I will be stuck like this forever,” he shared before he added with a growl, “so, yes, I would greatly appreciate it if you helped me find some more royals since I am running out of time.”
“That’s what you need to break the curse? A princess?”
“Not just any princess,” his head slowly shook from side to side, “the day that spell was cast, it was prophesied that she would be the only one who could save me. So, she became linked to me. But, perhaps out of fear, or greed, or something else, her kingdom hid her away from even themselves,” he exhaled, “and I still haven’t been able to find her, no matter where I look–…” his sentence then melted away as you shifted slightly and the sleeve of your dress dropped down just a tad from where the hem had been resting on your shoulder. In the low light, the beast spotted just the very crescent of the birthmark that was now visible, poking out of your neckline “…what is that?” he whispered before willing the door, that kept you both separated, to swing open.
You stumbled back as he slowly strode in, “what is what?”
“That,” he then ripped down your sleeve, the seams slightly tearing from the force. Petrified, you didn’t move an inch as he stared at the moon-like shape on your skin, “…you’re–…” his breath sounded ragged as he pieced the mystery together, “you’re her…” his eyes then flickered up to find your own.
“I’m–,” your breath got caught in your throat, “sorry?”
“I can’t believe it’s really you,” he breathed, “you came to me,” the corners of his lips faintly twisted at his spellbound amazement, “you finally came to me.”
“I came here to free my father,” you swiftly corrected him.
“Your Highness, that thief wasn’t your kin. Did you truly not know?” he uttered, “don’t worry, I will never lie to you as they did, you have my word.”
“I thought I was your prisoner, and now you want to–, what, love me?”
Sucking in a breath, he stared down at you before stating firmly, “…I want to be human again. No matter the cost…”
Your eyes then flickered towards the cell door he’d left agape, and before you could even weigh out the odds, you seized the opportunity and darted out.
“What are you–, no, no!” he roared from behind you before you heard his thunderous steps nip at your heels.
Running down the stairs, you nearly slipped countless of times before you reached the bottom. As you stormed through the castle as fast as your freezing feet could take you, screeches cut through your panting as all manner of furniture, large and small, magically came soaring through the air in attempts at slowing you down or blocking your path.
“Stop!” you heard him behind you, though didn’t have the courage to glance back to discover how close he was as he chased you and continued to fling items towards you at his will, only narrowly missing your form, “you will not escape, not when I finally have you!”
But when you finally reached the bottom of the grand staircase that led down into the entrance hall, eyes glued to the exit, Bucky then lunged down the latter half of the steps and tackled you to the ground.
Wind knocked clean out of your lungs, your body ached from the collision. The stone floor was cold beneath you as his weight pinned you down against it.
“You really shouldn’t have done that…” he panted in your ear, his laboured breath causing your hair to rustle, “I was gonna be all nice and gentle with you, just as I was with the other princesses, but I can’t have you slipping away again.”
His hulking form then peeled away from you, though only to seize your hips swiftly enough for escape to never be an option. Yanking you up off the ground till your bottom was propped up high, yet your upper half stayed plastered to the floor, his wide hands raked over your frame before a claw caught onto the fabric of your dress.
Once your clothing was ripped to shreds and scattered across the castle’s entryway, his grasp encircled your hips as his thumbs stretched out to spread you open for him.
Your toes curled as he then began to lap at your core, tickling your clit till your cunt couldn’t help but leak for him. The beastly tongue was long and just as strong as the other muscles in Bucky’s body, making you quiver as it greedily explored your holes.
But when the cursed prince’s patience ran thin, he didn’t hesitate to let himself straighten up behind you and nudge his length against your core. Without even catching a glance of it, the sear weight of his girth as he briefly tapped it against your glossy folds sent a shiver down your spine. As he buried his monstrous cock inside of you, instantly bullying it much further than you thought plausible, your mind went blank as your body struggled to accommodate for his inhuman size.
Fear swiftly magnified within you at the thought that he might break you, since that was what it felt like as he split you open.
“O-oh shit, little one…” he groaned as he tried to draw back out, though when only the tip of him remained, your tightness clung around the bulbous head too fiercely to let it escape. A yelp bubbled out of you as he had to put his might into it, letting out a grunt as he forced himself out with an audible pop, watching as your poor pussy gaped for a second before achingly clenching around nothing.
When he sank back into you, the ruthless rhythm he then initiated caused your body to shake violently beneath him as his rough thrusts were too intense for what your form was used to.
“Quit fucking squirming, princess,” each word was punctuated by a buck as he mercilessly drove his fat cock into you, “fucking take it or I’ll just eat you instead.”
On the next thrust that rocked your body, your wobbly knees finally gave out, though the drop barely affected the monster’s pace as he only followed and blanketed you with his form.
Weakly, your fingers shakily snaked up above your head before they began to claw at the ground in a hopeless attempt at crawling away.
“Where do you think you’re going, huh?” one of his massive palms came down over the back of your head to shove you back down against the floor, holding you there as his glance then flickered to the curtains close by. Jaggedly, the fabric then fluttered alive and came flying through the air to obey his wish. Slithering over, they first tangled themselves around both your wrists, yanking them up high till your arms were completely stretched out against the floor, before another curtain then slipped around your torso, just beneath the swell of your tits, to keep you that much further trapped.
Slamming his dick even further inside of you, he tried to ram the bulbous knot at the base of his cock inside of your warmth, but no matter how hard he thrust, it just wouldn’t pop in. Though as he kept up his efforts, it kept on hitting your puffy pearl at every failed attempt, soon rendering you to gush around his fat girth as he continued to rut into you till you were crying out at the overstimulation.
Pinned down and mind melted, your blurry vision found the painting on the wall of Bucky’s true form, the very prince you had dreamt about your whole life and put up on some pedestal as someone to yearn for. Though as you stared at the portrait, it was then that you noticed his eyes, and you finally began to lose yourself. They were the only thing that hadn’t changed about the beast that still buried himself inside of you. Eyes that you had previously fallen in love with… eyes that you perhaps still were in love with…
Suddenly, the curtains around you tightened before you were flipped all the way around. Head spinning, you blinked up at Bucky as he pushed himself back till he was kneeling between your trembling legs. Your chest rose and fell rapidly as he grasped your hips and lifted them up off the ground, rubbing your drooling pussy messily against his leaking tip before his hardness caught your entrance and he slipped back in.
Sinking you down onto him, a low groan of elation rumbled in his throat as his big knot finally popped inside. His thick fingers dented your hips as his efforts paused for a moment as he let himself revel in the sensation of your cunt clenching around all of him.
As his movements picked back up again, lewd and sloppy pops sounded each time he fucked his knot in and out of you, repeatedly making you take it and stretch your tiny hole out for him.
As your eyes drifted down, they caught sight of just how intimidating his size truly was, for if you had seen it before, there would have been no way in hell you would have thought your body was capable of taking it.
Your messy cream stained his knot as he continued to bring you down against him, fucking you as if you were just a toy in his grasp. It was then that you spotted the bulge that appeared in your belly, though it still took you a moment to realise that it was the thrusting imprint of his jarring size, visible for all to witness. It was so staggeringly pronounced that it caused you to unravel once more for him, your squirt that leaked around his cock only caused the beast to grow more feral and snap his hips up to meet your own each time he drove your body down against him.
His heavy balls slapped against your slick skin as he repeatedly bumped against your sore cervix, nearly piecing his way through it as he brought you down one last time before he finally tumbled over the edge himself, pumping you full of so much cum that it began to leak out of your stuffed hole before he was even finished.
And then, while he was panting above you and still plugging up your poor pussy, a bright light appeared and set his body aflame in an ethereal glow.
You had to narrow your eyes to a squint as the beast’s visage began to melt away before you, till he wasn’t a beast no more, and only the man of your dreams remained hovering above you.
Staring down at his hands with wide eyes, Bucky turned his palms a couple of times before he gasped, “it worked! I can’t believe it actually–, I’m human again!” before his teary vision found you below him, “and all because of you! You–, oh…” he then melted down against you, a bright smile shining on his face as he uttered, “thank you,” and worshipingly pressed his lips to your skin.
I was asked several times for my Halloween requests to make a Bucky werewolf fic so here you all are, I hope you all love it! (Sorry it’s after Halloween but either way here’s a little Bucky fic for you)
‘Barnes is Out! This is Not a Drill! I Repeat! Barnes is Out and This is Not a Drill! Lockdown the Building!’ Tonys voice spoke over the speakers.
‘Friday, lock the doors for me, would you?’ I asked, not looking up from my book.
‘Miss…do not move-not one muscle!’ The AI woman spoke softly in a way I had never heard before.
‘Where is he?’ I whispered, unable to even turn my head to see.
‘He has circled the room twice and now he is directly behind you.’ I couldn’t help the whimper that pushed its way from between my lips, a growl following directly in my ear.
‘Okay…Friday?’
‘Yes Miss?’
‘I want you to lock down this room, shut down all of the cameras-‘
‘Mr.Starks protocol is to record no matter what-‘
‘-And I know you have to disregard that for a dying request. I’m going to die in here, I know it and so do you-I do Not want my death recorded in any way-visually or auditorially-I do not want any physical evidence that anyone can see, especially Bucky…I don’t want him to ever have to see this moment…it’s not his fault…make sure you tell him that I said that-shut it down…you too Friday-until Bucky comes out in the morning.’
‘Yes Miss…Goodbye.’ The fact that I was well and truly alone was terrifying but I took a deep breath and found the courage to turn around-coming face to face with a real werewolf.
Apparently it wasn’t until this moment with me turning and looking at him that any human had looked into this creatures eyes and lived to tell the tale…
The Winter Soldier had been turned into a werewolf 2 years ago-just a bit before he ended up in that fight with Captain America and fled to Romania. Once everything had settled down again after Thanos (and what was only a few minutes to people like myself, Bucky, and Sam) Bucky moved into the Avengers compound with everyone and he was given a werewolf proof cage.
This time-sadly-he didn’t get into it on time and now here he is. I hadn’t seen him like this before, he had requested that no one come and see him when he was caged and I had respected his request-even if some people (Tony, Bruce, Hawkeye, Sam and Steve) hadn’t.
Looking at him now as he was right in my face, he wasn’t a full wolf like I expected. He was still Bucky just with sharp canines on his top and bottom rows of teeth, bright yellow eyes that were inspecting every inch of me as he circled my body-sniffing every inch of me as well-pointed ears that looked more like a wolfs than a humans and long claws on his hands.
I allowed him to do as he wanted, sniffing my entire body, his claws tracing over my skin so tenderly you’d think he was in love with me, afraid of hurting me. As he crouched down and circled my waist his nose trailed down to my crotch and I lifted my hand, smacking him over the head as he lingered-clearly smelling me deeply-growling as he looked up upon feeling the smack.
‘If you’re going to kill me then that’s fine but don’t you dare get fresh with me Mister!’ I snapped and he grumbled out a clearly displeased sound but he didn’t hurt me…which is weird…right? And yet here we are…and he just went back to sniffing me until he made a satisfied sound and as he now stood behind me he leaned his head down into my neck where he sniffed for a moment before digging his fangs into the space between my neck and shoulder making me cry out.
He rumbled out a loud growl before licking over the wound and nuzzling my ear. ‘Mate…’ he purred, seemingly quite happily as he continued nuzzling my neck.
‘Mate? What is mate? I think you and I are on different wavelengths here Bucky-‘
‘Mate!’ He roared this time, clearly displeased that I had disagreed with him. The next second his claws were tearing at my clothes , shredding them and leaving me naked with him continuing his obsession with my body as he nuzzled his face into my neck before turning me around and pressing my chest down over my bed and shoving my legs apart to give himself plenty of room between them.
‘Bucky?! W-What are you doing?! Stop! Bucky, I’m not a mate-I’m not what you-Ahh!’ I cried out as he violently shoved his huge cock into my hole, feeling the long appendage up in my stomach.
‘Oh God! Fuck Bucky!’ He purred softly, biting into my flesh once again, this time over my shoulder as he shoved his cock as deep inside of me as it would go, stretching me out even farther as he came inside of me. His cum was hot as I felt it all the way up in my belly, and it took me way too long to realize that as a werewolf Bucky has a knot which is what was stretching me out even more, which is why he didn’t pull away and instead held me closer to his chest.
‘Shh…pretty mate…pretty, perfect mate!’ He purred, nuzzling my hair sweetly. Admittedly the pain eased quickly as he rocked back into me at a much gentler pace, licking and nuzzling against the bite mark on my neck. ‘My mate…good mate…’ he cooed making me moan softly, his hips still thrusting up into my body much less painfully.
After about 5 minutes I got a chill and he must have noticed because he tightened his grip on my waist and lifted me before crawling into the middle of the bed. He pulled the blanket up haphazardly and laid his arm out under me to rest my head on, the metal one resting on my waist over the blanket.
‘Thank you…good mate?’ I mumbled, trying to make him understand that I was actually grateful for his taking care of me and his immediate and deep purr let me know that I had said the exact right thing. I reached out and carefully fixed the blanket, moving it so that it covered him as well and he made a curious noise. ‘What? Just because you’re a werewolf means you never get cold? Just enjoy it.’ I told him and he seemed to accept it as he pushed his body against mine even more.
He fucked me 3 more times that night before seemingly agreeing to let me sleep, not that I gave him much of a choice after that 4th time. My eyes were closing as I passed out with my face in his throat and my breasts pinned against his chest.
‘Y/n!’ A voice called, sounding far away in my mind before my body was being shaken roughly and the voice began to sound louder. ‘Y/n! Please Wake Up?!’ A deep voice begged and I opened my eyes to see Bucky over top of me. ‘Oh Thank God! Are you alright?! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to mark you! I’m so-‘
‘Bucky!’ I snapped, cutting his apology off. ‘It is way too early for this! I was up until like 4am with your horny wolf ass! I got the whole “mate” thing last night. Please? Can we Please talk about this after more sleep?’
His jaw fell and he made a few noises before nodding. ‘I didn’t hurt you…did I?’ I shook my head minutely in response. ‘Okay…I can’t believe I did this…I never wanted you to know-I tried so hard to-‘
‘Wait…you knew that I was your mate?’ He opened his mouth but no noise came out this time. ‘You hid it instead of just telling me and risked me getting mauled by a werewolf?!’
‘I was locked up! I was always locked up-speaking of which…how did I get here…?’
‘You never made it to the cage last night.’ I answered, rolling my eyes and pulling away from him to snuggle back into my pillows and find my blanket.
‘No! No-Come back!’ He demanded, a growl rumbling its way up from his chest, his arms wrapping around me and holding me against his warm body. ‘Wait…I did though. I was in my cage before I turned and Tony…Dammit!’
‘What? What did Stark do?’ I sighed, rolling my eyes and already being done with whatever bullshit Tony had pulled.
‘He kept insisting I tell you the truth, tell you that you’re mine…he let me out…I’m going to kill him!’ Bucky snarled, moving to get up before I pulled him back.
‘Wait…I’ll help you kill him…after we sleep for a few more hours first…’ he purred softly from his chest before snuggling back into me and allowing the both of us a bit more sleep before the bloodshed.
Summary: Bucky, a grumpy worgen warrior, and his sharp-tongued mage partner are sent on a relatively simple quest that quickly spirals into chaos.
Word Count: About 12k.
Notes: Ok, this one is... heated, I'm sorry beforehand (not).
Worgen=Werewolf. I’ve been playing World of Warcraft for 15 years, and even though life keeps me away, I’m always eager to return. That said, you don’t need to have played WoW to enjoy this story (though if you have, feel free to comment!).
The golden expanse of Westfall stretched endlessly beneath a bruised sky, and the faint scent of rain hung in the air. Rolling grain fields, left untended for far too long, waved like restless ghosts in the wind. To the south of Moonbrook, jagged cliffs met the turbulent sea, its waves crashing against the rocks with a rhythmic, almost hypnotic fury.
It wasn’t an inviting place, not anymore. The days of bountiful harvests and tight-knit farming communities were long gone, stolen by bandits, gnolls, and worse. The remaining folk clung stubbornly to their land, driven by defiance and desperation. And if you asked them, the worgen prowling over from Duskwood to raid the struggling riverside farms were on top of the offender's list.
Near the cliff's edge, a small clearing hosted a half-pitched tent flapping uselessly in the rising wind. A warrior with a scowl etched deep into his face knelt beside it, hammering a stake into the rocky ground with more force than was strictly necessary. Standing a few feet away, a mage held the sagging canvas taut, glaring daggers at him.
"You had one job, Buck," she bit out, exasperated as the wind tugged at her robes.
“The idiot deserved it, and you know it,” he muttered, not bothering to look up.
She let out a humorless laugh, sharp enough to cut through the whistling wind. “Oh, I know. But that doesn’t mean you had to snap in the middle of the inn. For Light’s sake, Bucky, all you had to do was keep your temper in check. We were finally about to get a decent night’s sleep. But no, you had to let your claws show.”
His lip curled, and hint of a snarl escaped his throat before he caught himself. “The bastard invited you to ‘polish his greatsword’ while groping himself under the table. What was I supposed to do?”
“Nothing! Nothing would’ve been perfect. I could’ve frozen his excuse of a dick and left him weeping into his ale. Then we could’ve stayed, and maybe even conned him into buying an overpriced healing potion for his bruised ego since there isn’t a decent merchant in this God-forgotten place. But no, you just had to make it personal.”
Bucky let out a huff, standing to stretch his shoulders. The motion pulled his vest taut, and her eyes flicked down for the briefest of moments before she caught herself and snapped her gaze back to the tent. He mumbled under his breath, “He had it coming.”
She didn’t let him off the hook. “Please. You just took the opportunity to vent because Steve sent us to kill nagas on the beach. And you hate the coast because when you shift, the sand gets into your fur and other places you don’t-”
“Okay, okay,” he interrupted, waving her off with a sharp motion and an uncharacteristic hint of color in his cheeks. “Maybe that had something to do with it. But still, the bastard deserved it.”
She smirked, pulling the canvas tighter over the flimsy frame of the tent. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, big guy.”
He huffed again, crossing his arms, fixing his eyes on the distant horizon.
“Just... remember where we are,” she advised softly, "This isn’t Dalaran or some other cultivated place. These farmers deal with the Duskwood worgens six days a week lately. They don’t believe -or care- that there’s a way for your kind to regain their humanity."
He stiffened slightly at her words. She regretted saying them the moment they left her mouth, but he didn’t snap back. Instead, he shifted his weight, avoiding her gaze entirely.
"We got lucky you only half-shifted, and the owner just asked us to leave instead of raising some kind of alarm."
“Don’t fool yourself,” he muttered. “He didn’t call on us because he knows we’re here to deal with the nagas.”
“Maybe,” she allowed with a slight shrug. “But that’s not the point.”
Bucky exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair as the first fat drops of rain began to patter against the canvas.
Her voice softened slightly as she bent to secure the last corner of the tent, though her gaze stayed sharp. “Look, I appreciate what you did in some way, but you usually let me handle this kind of thing. The last couple of days, though… you’ve been broodier and grumpier than usual, and that’s saying something. This isn’t just about the beach, is it?”
He grunted, keeping his eyes on the stakes. “You’re imagining things. Maybe you’ve just forgotten my charming personality since it’s been a month since our last quest together.”
She quirked an unimpressed brow, crossing her arms as the rain dripped from the edge of her hood. “Thanks to your charming personality, almost no one in the guild wants to team up with you unless we’re raiding. And its why Steve pairs me with you, because apparently, I can ‘handle’ you.”
Bucky squinted up at her, pressing his lips into a thin line.
“Yeah,” she continued, folding her arms tighter as her voice took on a teasing lilt. “So believe me when I say you’re ‘Buckier’ than usual right now.”
He straightened, looming over her slightly, and let out a quiet huff. “Think what you want,” he muttered, brushing past her to retrieve his bedroll from their supplies.
She wasn’t wrong, and he hated how much her observation rattled him. Worse, he hated how easily she could unravel the mask he wore, the one that kept everyone else at arm’s length. But he couldn’t explain why, not without revealing more than he was willing to.
He should’ve seen it coming. Every Gilnean, given their worgen blood, knew what it felt like, that slow-burning tension building incrementally until it exploded into something primal and impossible to ignore. His rut came like clockwork every year, and when it did, he disappeared from the radar, holed up in some remote spot until it passed. Sometimes alone, sometimes not.
This time, though, Steve had insisted the naga situation couldn’t wait. The bounty was too big, the stakes too high, and Bucky, hadn’t argued. He’d thought he had more time before his hormones kicked in. He’d been so wrong. And now? Sharing a flimsy tent with her and her sharp tongue? It was like throwing oil on a fire.
He glanced at her, and his gaze lingered longer than it should have. She was bent over the supplies, muttering under her breath as she organized their gear. The damp fabric of her robes clung to her frame, outlining curves he’d tried not to notice since… well, he couldn’t remember when it started.
He’d been drawn to her for longer than he cared to admit, though he couldn’t pinpoint exactly when it had started. Maybe it was her sharp wit, the way she never backed down from him, or the way she smiled at him when he wasn’t ready for it. Maybe it was just the way she treated him, like he was more than just a worgen with a bad attitude.
Whatever it was, it didn’t help now. Not when every glance, every stray brush of her hand, set his nerves alight and his thoughts spiraling into dangerous territory.
“You’re quiet,” she said, snapping him out of his spiraling thoughts.
“Nothing to say,” he muttered, unrolling his bedroll and laying it out on the ground.
“Uh-huh,” she replied with skepticism clear in her tone. She didn’t press further, though, for which he was grateful. Instead, she settled onto her own bedroll.
The rain drummed steadily against the canvas above them, a soothing rhythm that contrasted with the storm brewing inside him. He clenched his fists at his sides, willing the heat in his veins to subside.
He just had to get through this. The nagas wouldn’t take more than a day or two to deal with, and then he could disappear before she noticed anything was off.
He hoped.
------
Maybe pitching the tent near the treeline by the rift hadn’t been their most brilliant idea. Sure, on paper, it seemed logical, far enough from the coast to avoid naga and murloc patrols, gnoll bands, Defias stragglers, and those damn coyotes. But the coastline's wind and chill seeped through their tent's flimsy fabric, turning the night into a teeth-chattering endurance test.
It wasn’t a problem for him. His worgen nature granted him a resilience she could only envy, but she was clearly freezing. He could hear the faint clatter of her teeth every now and then, no matter how she tried to stifle it.
Both of them were awake, though for different reasons.
“Bucky,” she whispered, cutting through the steady rhythm of the rain.
He didn’t answer, hoping she’d think he was asleep and leave him alone. She knew how hard rest was for him, how much effort it took to him to conceal just a couple of hours of sleep.
“Bucky,” she tried again, her voice sharper this time. “I know you’re awake.”
He sighed, rolling his eyes in the dark. “You can’t see a thing. How do you know?”
“Pfft. Because if you were asleep, you’d be snoring.”
“I don’t-”
“Like a cute little pig,” she added, cutting him off with an audible smirk.
He pressed his tongue against his cheek, exhaling sharply through his nose. Maybe he did. How would he know? He didn’t exactly stick around for morning conversations after his usual flings, and no one had ever mentioned it before.
“Well, what is it?” he asked gruffly.
“I’m cold,” she admitted.
Oh, he knew where this was going.
“I didn’t pack for a quest in Northrend,” she continued, her tone edged with frustration, “and I’m freezing my ass off. Do your thing.”
He stiffened, dread settling low in his stomach. “It’s not that cold,” he dismissed, turning onto his side and hoping she’d drop it.
“Don’t be an ass,” she shot back, shifting to face him. “You know it is, and we could’ve been warm and cozy in the tavern right now if not for your macho display earlier.”
His lips twitched into a snarl before he smoothed his expression. “I’m not shifting.”
“Oh, come on,” she groaned, her breath puffing out visibly in the cold air. “You’ve done it before.”
“That was different, we were really in Northrend,” he grunted.
She rolled her eyes, but her voice softened a little. “I’m freezing, Buck. I wouldn’t be asking you if I did not. Please.”
Her tone made him pause, wavering his internal resistance. He sighed heavily, dragging a hand down his face. This wasn’t fair. Her scent was already messing with his focus enough, and now she wanted to press against him for warmth?
“Fine,” he ground out.
She hummed in approval as he shifted with practiced ease. He took off his vest and his bones cracked and muscles rippled, becoming larger, thick dark fur covered his body and deathly claws grew on his hands. He didn’t dare to meet her gaze as she scooted closer, curling her smaller frame into his side.
“See? Not so bad,” she murmured, her voice muffled against his chest while she poked at his snout. “Warm and cozy. You’re practically a luxury fur rug.”
His lips twitched, a reluctant smile threatening to break through the scowl he’d carefully crafted. “Glad I could be of service,” he muttered dryly.
She snorted softly, the sound more endearing than he’d ever admit. “Don’t act like you’re suffering. You’re just grumpy because I called you out.”
“I’m grumpy because I’m stuck in the middle of nowhere with you,” he retorted, but the words lacked venom.
She didn’t reply immediately, and he thought she might’ve finally fallen asleep. But then, she spoke again, quieter this time.
“For what it’s worth, thanks, Buck.”
He didn’t answer, tightening his jaw as he tried not to focus on how perfectly she fit against him. Her scent -warm and familiar- filled his senses, sending a deep, instinctual thrum through his veins.
This was going to be a long night.
------
The night dragged on, and though she moved only a couple of times, it was enough to drive him mad. Normally, her restless shifting wouldn’t have been an issue. But now, with his traitorous body on high alert and her nestled against him, it was sheer torment.
At some point, she settled in just the wrong -or perhaps right- position. Her back molded to his chest, her softer form impossibly close. His body reacted before his brain could catch up, and before he knew it, his arm was slung possessively around her waist.
And she didn’t resist. If anything, she leaned into him, her unconscious search for warmth becoming his greatest torture. When her hips shifted slightly, her rear brushing against his growing arousal, Bucky clenched his jaw so hard it hurt.
His instincts roared, the part of him tied to his worgen blood demanding he take what was so temptingly close. His hand twitched against her waist, his claws threatening to pierce the fabric of her robe as he fought the overwhelming urge to act. He bit down on the snarl building in his throat, forcing himself to remain still.
He closed his eyes, his breath was shallow and uneven as the storm outside raged on. This wasn’t him. No matter what his instincts tried to tell him, he wasn't an animal. She trusted him, and saw him as more than the beast he sometimes feared he was. He wouldn’t betray that, no matter how much his body protested.
When the first hints of dawn painted the horizon, he couldn’t stand it any longer. Carefully, he disentangled himself from her, doing his best not to disturb her sleep. He draped his mantle over her before slipping out of the tent into the cold rain.
-----
When she woke, the patter of rain against the canvas was the first thing she noticed. Then the weight of his cloak over her shoulders. She blinked, groggy, and glanced around the empty tent.
“Figures,” she muttered to herself, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
Shivering slightly, she wrapped herself tighter in the mantle. It smelled like him, a mix of forest, leather, and something she could only describe as uniquely Bucky. She smiled faintly, shaking her head, and began rummaging through their supplies. He might be gruff and impossible, but he always made sure she was taken care of, and she had to admit she liked it. It didn’t take much to guess where he’d gone, either scouting or standing under a tree somewhere, brooding and keeping watch.
Meanwhile, Bucky stood at the edge of the clearing, soaked to the bone. He barely noticed the cold, his mind was too preoccupied with wrestling his instincts back under control. His claws flexed against the damp bark of a nearby tree, and he exhaled slowly. Her scent still clung to his body, haunting and maddening. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the tension to leave his body.
“She’s your teammate, not your mate,” he muttered under his breath, the words as much a reminder as a warning.
But no amount of logic could shake the truth he’d been denying for far too long. She wasn’t just a teammate, not to him. And the more time he spent near her, the harder it became to ignore the pull.
------
Four times.
Four times Bucky had to jerk off and relieve himself before he felt remotely human, or as human as someone like him could feel. By the time he returned to the tent, the rain had lessened, though his damp hair clung to his forehead and his shirtless torso glistened from the early morning mist.
Inside, she was sitting cross-legged with her bag open beside her. She barely looked up when he ducked inside, muttering a gruff, “Morning.”
Her eyes flickered to him, her lips twitching into a half-smile. “Morning. Glad you shifted back; otherwise, the wet dog smell would cling to everything.” She tossed him a magic-infused bun with a wink.
He caught it with ease, biting into it harder than necessary. The faint hum of magic in the pastry soothed his body slightly, though his mind was still frazzled.
She, meanwhile, was doing her best to keep her gaze fixed on his face. The early hour and her half-awake state didn’t help, and her eyes briefly betrayed her, wandering down the lines of his scarred torso. She caught herself quickly, clearing her throat as she focused on his stubbled jaw instead.
“Didn’t sleep last night?” she asked, tilting her head as she studied him.
He almost choked on the bite of the bun. “Why?”
She arched a brow. “Well, the shadows under your eyes and your miserable face give off a certain vibe.”
He scowled, finishing the bun in two quick bites. “If only someone had stayed on her side of the tent instead of tossing around all night,” he muttered.
“Oh, please,” she shot back, rolling her eyes. “Next time, I’ll freeze myself in place so you can have a peaceful night.” She reached into her bag, pulling out a small green vial. “Here.”
Bucky wrinkled his nose, glaring at the potion like it had personally offended him. “Those taste like shit.”
“And you look like shit, so…” she replied, thrusting the vial toward him.
With a dramatic groan, he snatched it from her hand, muttering something under his breath about bossy mages.
She smirked, leaning back on her hands as she watched him grimace through the first sip. “You’re welcome,” she said sweetly.
Bucky shot her a withering look, but there was no real heat behind it. He downed the rest of the potion in one go, resisting the urge to spit it out.
“Better?” she asked, her tone laced with amusement.
“No,” he grumbled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. But the faint twitch of his lips gave him away.
-----
“Tell me again why I have to carry the bag with naga thumbs strapped to my waist?” she huffed, launching a frostbolt straight into the face of an approaching murloc.
“Because I don’t want them to rot and start reeking like shit,” Bucky replied, his tone edged with impatience. He swung his sword with brutal efficiency, sending a naga’s head flying in a clean arc. “Just keep them cold and keep moving.”
She rolled her eyes, shifting the grisly sack at her hip as she prepared another spell. “Yes, master. As you wish, master,” she mocked, her voice dripping with exaggerated deference.
“Shut it,” he snapped without looking back, slicing through another naga like it was nothing.
“What’s the matter, master?” she continued, undeterred. “Does your fluffy tummy hurt? Want me to rub it?”
His grip on his sword tightened. No. He wanted her to rub something else, and that was precisely the problem.
He growled low in his throat, shaking off the thought as he tore through another wave of enemies with grim focus. Every word out of her mouth made it harder to concentrate, and the sooner they finished this quest, the better.
For his sanity.
“Focus,” he barked, sending another naga crumpling to the ground.
She smirked but didn’t push further, summoning a frost nova to freeze the remaining enemies in place. “I am focused,” she replied with a smug tone. “Maybe you should try it sometime.”
Bucky muttered something under his breath -probably a curse- and powered forward, determined to reach the end of this hellish mission before she drove him completely mad.
-----
"I'm not carrying the head to Stormwind. I'm letting you know right now," she called over her shoulder, crouched in front of the naga commander's treasure chest.
Bucky, still looming near the mangled remains of the commander, huffed. "I figured. It's too heavy for you anyway."
With a sharp crack of bones and the sickening squelch of shifting tendons, he reverted to his human form, standing shorter and more composed but no less intimidating. He rolled his shoulders, adjusting to the familiar but always slightly uncomfortable sensation of transformation.
"Anything useful in there?" he asked, wiping blood and ichor off his blade with a rag.
“Actually, yes,” she replied, holding up two gleaming rings. “Looks like someone left us a caster and a melee ring. Lucky day.”
She tossed the melee ring to him without warning, and he caught it effortlessly with one hand, inspecting the intricate etching along the band.
“Aww, look,” she teased, holding up the caster ring. “They match.”
Bucky squinted at her, his lips twitching as if fighting back a smirk. “Great. Now we can get married and settle down in Kharanos.”
She snorted, slipping the caster ring onto her finger. “You’d last a week before murdering the drunken neighbors.”
He chuckled under his breath, sliding the melee ring onto his own finger. “More like a day. But, we’ll have enough ale even for our grandkids”
The banter lingered between them for a comfortable moment, despite the carnage surrounding them.
“Alright,” she stood and dusted off her hands. “Treasure’s looted, commander’s dead. Let’s get back to Stormwind before this starts to smell real bad, and you get extra cranky because of the sand in your ass.” He gave her a pointed look but didn’t talk back.
“Let’s see,” she muttered, already pulling a small portable mailbox from her enchanted bag to let Steve know that they had completed the quest. She tossed it to the ground, and with a flick of her fingers, it unfolded and hummed to life.
Bucky watched her intently, still coiled with tension from the fight. Every part of him was attuned to her movements, even when he didn’t want them to be.
Her brow furrowed as she scanned the glowing letter that appeared before her. “Well, that’s just perfect,” she said, tone dripping with sarcasm.
“What now?” he growled.
She glanced at him, tossing the letter into the air where it dissolved into sparkling motes of light. “We’ve got another job. Steve wants us to go to Duskwood. The guild bank is low on silver ore, and considering it’s nearby...”
Bucky rolled his eyes, letting out a low growl of irritation. “Of course he does.”
“Hey, at least Duskwood has a proper inn,” she quipped, trying to lighten the mood. “And the people there know the difference between Alliance worgen and the monsters lurking in the woods.”
Bucky wasn’t amused. He should’ve been relieved that Duskwood would be less hostile than Westfall, but all he could think about was the proximity, the enclosed spaces, and how hard it was already becoming to keep his instincts in check.
“I’ll go,” he said gruffly, his tone leaving little room for argument. “You can handle turning in the quest in Stormwind. Those fingers are going to start rotting if we don’t deliver them soon.”
She straightened, quirking an unimpressed brow. “Forgive me, illustrious master, but our guildmaster specifically requested both of us.”
“I don’t need backup for something as simple as mining,” he shot back, irritated. “I can handle a few spiders and ghouls on my own. Just go.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, shifting her as she stood her ground. “What’s with you? You’ve been extra bossy today, and for the record, I don’t take orders from you.”
“It’s not an order,” he growled, though it sounded like one. “It’s common sense. I can get the ore faster on my own, and you won’t have to-”
“What? Slow you down?” she interrupted, sharper now.
“That’s not what I meant.” He objected tiredly.
“Really? Because it sure sounds like you’re trying to get rid of me.”
He stiffened, looking away. She wasn’t entirely wrong, but he couldn’t exactly tell her the truth. How could he explain that every moment they spent together was a battle of willpower? That he could barely breathe the same air without the primal urge to claim her clawing at his insides?
“You’re impossible,” she muttered, shaking her head. “Look, I get it. You’re used to being the lone wolf -pun very much intended- but we’re a team in this one, and we’re going to Duskwood together. Got it?”
Bucky’s jaw clenched, dropping his gaze to the ground. He wanted to argue, to push her away for her own good, but the look in her eyes stopped him, he know it very well. She wasn’t bending.
“Fine,” he ground out, strained. “But don’t slow me down.”
Her lips twitched into a smirk. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
As they packed up their supplies and prepared for the journey, Bucky tried to focus on the task ahead, but the tension between them only grew thicker. It was going to be a long trip, and he wasn’t sure if he’d survive it with his sanity intact.
----
The woods were eerily alive tonight, the undergrowth teeming with movement that set her nerves on edge. It was impossible to traverse the area without skirmishing at nearly every turn, and the battered remnants of giant spider corpses littered the path behind them.
“Isn’t it good I came with you?” she asked, flicking a small flame spell at a particularly persistent arthropod. Its charred remains crumpled into ash as she adjusted her grip on her staff.
Bucky grunted in response, non-concomitantly, as he crouched by a silver deposit. He picked effortlessly loosening the ore, and the metal glowed faintly in the dim light filtering through the canopy.
“You’re welcome,” she muttered, rolling her eyes.
“Did you say something?”
“Nope.” She smirked, but her amusement faded quickly as a chill ran down her spine. Her hand tightened on her staff, and she scanned the treeline, feeling the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. “Uh, Buck…”
“What?” he asked, not bothering to look up. “You finally get tired of spiders?”
“Not exactly.”
Something in her voice made him pause. Straightening, he turned to follow her gaze, and his stomach dropped. Emerging from the shadows was a pack of worgens, their eyes were gleaming with a feral hunger that set his instincts ablaze.
“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, his body shifting almost instinctively. Bones cracked, muscles bulged, and fur erupted as he transformed into his worgen form.
The pack hesitated. He was larger than any of them, and his presence was enough to make a few step back, flattening their ears in uncertainty. But they didn’t retreat. They circled, growling low in their throats, a guttural sound that echoed in the damp night air.
For a long moment, nothing happened. Both sides stood frozen, staring at each other down as if weighing the odds. Low growls and deep, guttural sounds passed between Bucky and the pack, an exchange she couldn’t interpret but that felt loaded with meaning.
She took a cautious step back, and her staff glowed faintly in her hand, though she doubted it would be much use if this went south. “Okay,” she muttered under her breath, “It’s kind of rude, you know. Everyone knows what’s happening but me.”
Bucky didn’t respond, his focus was locked on the pack. He deepened his growl, and the sound reverberated through his chest as his claws flexed at his sides. Whatever language they were speaking, it wasn’t friendly.
She tightened her grip on her staff. “If this is one of those ‘dominance’ things, can we skip to the part where they back down?”
Bucky shot her a brief glance. His glowing eyes were so intense that they sent a shiver through her body. “Stay behind me,” he growled, his voice barely human.
“Oh, believe me, I’m not going anywhere,” she replied, with both sarcasm and genuine unease.
The standoff continued, and the tension was so thick it was almost suffocating. She could feel it in the air, the raw, primal energy radiating from the pack and Bucky himself. She hated to admit it, but even now, amid danger, she couldn’t help but notice the sheer power and command he exuded.
“Any time you want to scare them off would be great,” she quipped nervously, keeping her eyes on the pack.
“I’m working on it,” he rumbled sharply.
The tension in the clearing was suffocating, the pack of worgens circled closer, their growls vibrating threatening in the air. Before she could react, Bucky’s paw encircled her wrist, and he pulled her roughly in front of him.
“W-what?” she gasped, wide-eyed as she looked up at him.
His snout was so close, and his voice was a low, urgent rumble when he asked. “You trust me?”
“Always,” she whispered.
“Alright,” he muttered. Without another word, he leaned down and licked a slow, deliberate stripe along her neck, never breaking his gaze from the pack.
“Buc-” she started, her voice faltering.
“Moan,” he interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument.
“What?”
“Just do it. Like you mean it,” he commanded, tightening his grip slightly on her wrist.
Heat rushed to her cheeks as she let out a soft, breathy sound, tilting her head slightly, while her voice trembled with a mix of nerves and compliance.
The pack hesitated, as they exchanged uneasy glances. Bucky growled low and deep, as his free hand moved to the nape of her neck, guiding her downward on her knees with surprising gentleness for the intensity of the moment.
She frowned. “What are you-”
“Rut season,” he growled under his breath, lips close to her ear. “They want to fuck you, and I’m showing them you’re mine.”
Her stomach dropped, and her breath caught as his words sank into her brain. “Oh my god,” she whispered, half in disbelief.
“So, unless you want some fun with those boys,” he continued, dangerously calm, “you’re going to play along.”
Before she could respond, he pushed her neck lower, bending her slightly as he positioned himself behind her. She could feel the warmth of his body, and the weight of his presence almost overwhelmed her as he pressed closer.
His hand brushed the hem of her robe, lifting it just enough to expose the curve of her thighs. Her breath hitched as she realized what he was doing. She wanted to throw him a dirty joke to decompress, protest, or say something, but the gravity of the situation kept her rooted in place.
Bucky hunched over her, his chest brushing against her back as he growled at the pack, sounding primal and territorial, and -oh light- he started to pound and grind against her. His movements were deliberate, and calculated, mimicking the act with enough realism to leave no doubt in the pack’s minds.
“They don’t see much detail from here,” he murmured, his voice low and rough as he panted near her ear. “But it would be wise to show them some… engagement. If you know what I mean.”
The low growls of the pack echoed through the clearing, but they faded into the background as she cast her scruples aside, letting out soft moans and whimpers every time his hips connected with her rear. It was humiliating, sure, but the situation demanded it. Every sound she made seemed to amplify the tension in the air.
Bucky was a storm of barely restrained chaos. Each time their bodies connected, the friction sent a jolt through his body, and it was becoming impossible to ignore the painful erection straining against his pants. He bit back a growl, trying to focus on the task at hand instead of the fact that she could feel every inch of his leaking cock pressing against her.
The pack’s growls began to falter, their aggression giving way to hesitation. But Bucky’s protective instincts burned hotter. The violent intent in their stares toward his mage had his blood boiling. He wanted to tear them, to rip them apart for daring to covet what wasn’t theirs.
And yet, another fire was burning in him, one far more dangerous.
The charade, though necessary, was pushing him to his limit. Her body pressed against his, her soft sounds filling the air, and the scent of her arousal cutting through the damp forest air, it was killing him.
Oh, he noticed.
He noticed how her movements became less stiff, how her breaths quickened with something more than nerves, and how the sounds escaping her lips grew more authentic and less forced.
And she noticed too.
The undeniable hardness grinding and slapping against her clothed pussy was impossible to ignore, and she hated the way her body reacted. Her cheeks burned with the realization of the slickness beginning to gather between her thighs. And worse, she knew he could smell it.
Bucky flexed his claws at her waist, tightening his grip momentarily as a low growl rumbled in his chest. “That’s it,” he murmured darkly but oddly reassuring. “Just a little longer. They’re starting to get the message.”
Bucky inhaled deeply, and his eyes fluttered shut momentarily as her scent overwhelmed him. When he opened them again, they were sharp, glowing faintly in the dim light of the forest. His voice was strained, low, and almost trembling with the effort it took to speak clearly.
“Listen,” he panted, each word carrying the weight of his struggle. “These bastards are going to retreat, and when they do… I need you to cast Frost Nova. On me. And run.”
“What?” she gasped, twisting slightly to look back at him. “Are you insane? I’m not doing that!”
His grip on her waist tightened, claws grazing her robes but not piercing. His jaw clenched as he forced himself to speak through the haze clouding his mind. “I don’t want to hurt you. But I don’t trust myself right now. All I can think about is ripping off that damn underwear and stop this charade.”
Her breath hitched at his words, and her cheeks heated anew.
“But Bucky-” she began, unsure.
“By the Light, woman,” he growled, cutting her off, “Can’t you, just once, do what I say without questioning me?”
The desperation in his voice was unmistakable now, and she froze, torn between the rising fear of what he might do and the unwavering trust she’d always had in him. Her lips pressed into a thin line as her mind raced.
“Alright,” she said finally, not sounding very convinced.
His response was a guttural snarl, but the tension in his body eased, just slightly. “I’ll be fine,” he bit out, though the way his claws flexed told her he was barely holding himself together.
The pack lingered, their yellowed eyes glinted with hesitation as Bucky’s sharp, murderous gaze bore into them. Every roll of his hips against her, every growl rumbling in his chest, was a clear message: she was his, and they had no claim here.
He let out a guttural snarl of finality, slowing his movements until he stopped, and she played along, meowling and whimpering in reaction to his fake release. He leaned forward, almost covering her body entirely with his, growling more menacing than ever before.
Eventually, the tension broke as the pack, deterred by his dominance, slunk back into the shadows of the woods.
After a couple of minutes that seemed like an eternity, he reluctantly moved backward. “Do it,” he commanded, edged with desperation.
For a moment, she froze. She could feel his body trembling against hers, not just from exertion but from the monumental effort it took for him to hold himself back. His claws dug slightly into her sides, not enough to hurt but enough to remind her of how close he was to losing control.
“Now,” he barked, sharp and low.
Swallowing hard, she pushed herself away from him, forcing herself not to look back. With a quick flick of her wrist, she channeled her magic, releasing a Frost Nova that erupted in a ring of ice around him. The spell worked instantly, freezing his limbs in place and rooting him to the forest floor.
Her chest ached as she heard the muffled sound of his growl, laced with frustration, and something else. She forced herself to run, her boots pounding against the uneven ground as she headed toward the road.
Behind her, the crackling sound of ice straining against immense strength echoed faintly. She didn’t stop. She couldn’t.
-----
Maybe telling her to run hadn’t been the most clever idea his clouded mind could come up with. Because now, all he could think about was the chase… and the prize.
Her scent clung to his fur, sweet and maddening, filling his lungs and clouding what little rationality he had left. Each breath only made it worse, feeding the primal hunger gnawing at his control. His aching cock throbbed in time with his heartbeat, every pulse a painful reminder of how badly he needed her.
Something in him snapped.
The ice encasing his limbs cracked audibly before shattering altogether, shards scattering across the forest floor. With a guttural roar, Bucky surged forward, his massive form blurring as he gave in to the chase.
His mind, already teetering on the edge, gave itself over to instinct. Each pounding stride brought him closer to her, his muscles coiling and releasing with terrifying precision. He could smell her panic mixed with something else, something intoxicating. It made his mouth water, his claws flex, and his cock twitch with unrelenting need.
She ran as fast as she could, her robes fluttered as she darted between trees and over roots. But she wasn’t fast enough.
Bucky leaped, the world narrowing to a single focus: her. The thrill of the hunt consumed him, but it wasn’t just the chase, it was the promise of catching her, of claiming what every fiber of his body screamed belonged to him.
----
Her steps began to falter as she reached the road, her breath coming in harsh, ragged gasps. She bent over, hands braced on her knees, trying to recover. She wasn’t built for this kind of thing. She was a mage, for Light’s sake, spellcasting was her forte, not sprinting through a forest or other physical strain.
That’s what she had Bucky for.
Bucky, who would roll his eyes and toss her over his shoulder like a caveman whenever she whined about being too tired to walk.
Bucky, who would scout ahead for the easiest path even though he could tear through any terrain in his worgen form without a second thought.
Bucky, who hunted and butchered their meals with efficiency, ensuring they ate more than stale bread and questionable stew on their travels.
Bucky, who wanted to fuck her.
Her cheeks burned as that particular thought. Not that she hadn’t thought about it before, because she had. Maybe too often for her own good. The idea of him and his hands on her, his low, gravelly voice saying her name in that way that sent a shiver down her spine.
But not like this.
Not the furry kind of fuck.
She straightened, forcing herself to keep moving toward the town. Each step felt like it was taking her further from the chaotic heat of the encounter in the woods, but her mind couldn’t stop replaying the way he’d looked at her: possessive, dangerous, hungry.
And if she was being honest with herself, a small part of her didn’t entirely mind that look.
She almost tripped and cursed, adjusting her robes and glaring down at their impractical hem. Maybe it was time to ditch the flowing fabric and invest in some pants like a sensible person. To hell with Khadgar and his fashionable mage aesthetic. She let out a frustrated sigh, dragging a hand through her hair as she walked. All she needed was to reach the inn, find a stiff drink, and put this insanity behind her.
Oh, but she wasn’t going to make it.
The big, bad, and sexually frustrated wolf had been prowling alongside her, concealed by the thicket, his predatory instincts zeroed in on every step she took. She’d barely made it four more paces down the stone road before her vision blurred with sudden movement.
The next thing she knew, she was pinned.
Her back was pressed against the rough bark of a tree, and in front of her was Bucky. Human, barely. His chest heaved, his shirt torn and clinging to his sweat-dampened skin. He was panting, feral, utterly undone.
Her breath hitched as her eyes raked over him, and before she could stop herself, her thighs pressed together to ease the tingling ache his mere presence provoked.
“H-hey, Buck,” she croaked, her voice trembling under the weight of his stare. “I guess the nova wasn’t to your liking?”
His lips curled into something between a snarl and a smirk, and his gaze dropped to her lips before sliding back to meet her eyes. “Did you really think that would stop me?” His voice was low, rough, vibrating with barely contained hunger.
Her fingers twitched at her sides, unsure whether to push him away or pull him closer. “Well according to you, it was supposed to give me a head start.”
He huffed a breathless laugh, his hands braced on either side of her head against the tree. “I guess I subconsciously knew damn well I’d catch you. Since, you know, your stamina sucks”
Her cheeks flushed hot, and her heart hammered in her chest as she struggled to keep her composure. “Yeah, well... there was the possibility that maybe the spell cooled you off.”
“Cool off?” He leaned in, brushing his nose against her temple, dropping his voice into a growl. “You’re the one who’s been driving me insane, running around smelling like... that.”
“Like what?” she whispered, even as she already knew the answer.
“Like you want me to lose control,” he murmured, his lips just barely grazing her ear.
Her traitorous body shivered at his words.
“Would that… be that bad?” she whispered, barely able to get the words out.
His entire body went rigid, curling his hands into fists against the tree bark. A growl rumbled low in his chest, vibrating between them like a warning. Or a promise.
“You don’t know what you’re saying,” he ground out against her skin.
She tilted her head slightly, forcing herself to meet his burning gaze. “Maybe I do.”
Bucky’s nostrils flared, and he clenched his jaw as if he were fighting an invisible battle within himself. The tension between them crackled like a live wire, and she couldn’t tell if the heat pooling in her belly was from fear, desire, or both.
“Don’t,” he rasped, strained. “Don’t tempt me like that.”
Her lips parted, letting go a soft exhale as she felt the weight of his words. Still, she couldn’t stop herself. “And if I did?”
He snarled, closing the faint distance separating them. His forehead dropped to hers, and his ragged breathing mixed with hers. “Then I’ll show you just how dangerous I can be.”
The words sent a jolt of adrenaline and something far darker coursing through her veins. She swallowed thickly, and her heart hammered against her ribs as she whispered, “Maybe I’m not afraid of danger.”
Bucky’s eyes searched hers, his pupils were blown wide, a thin ring of blue around a sea of black. His lips hovered over hers, so close she could feel the ghost of his breath.
“I don’t know if I can stop,” he admitted.
“Then don’t,” she replied steady, despite the quiver in her knees.
Bucky didn’t move for a heartbeat, his body trembled as he fought his instincts. The moment stretched, before something inside him finally snapped.
His lips crashed against hers, hard and demanding, as though trying to express everything he couldn’t say. She gasped into the kiss, her fingers instinctively tangling in the ragged fabric of his shirt and his long locks, pulling him closer despite the warning alarms blaring in her mind.
His hands moved to her waist, rough and possessive, as though afraid she might slip away. The kiss was a clash of tongues and teeth, raw and unrestrained, but it wasn’t enough, not for him.
He broke away, panting heavily, roaming his gaze over her heated face. “You don’t know what you’ve started,” he growled, low and thick with need.
Her lips tingled, swollen from the force of his kiss. Her fingers trailed up to touch them as her mind spun. “Well Buck, I’m not sure I care,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
His expression darkened, and his body pressed her back against the tree. “Say that again,” he demanded, his tone more animal than man.
She met his gaze, and her stubborn streak flared. “I said, I don’t care, Bucky.”
He let out a sound that was somewhere between a snarl and a groan, and his hands moved to cup her face with surprising gentleness despite the storm raging inside him. “You’re going to drive me insane,” he murmured, brushing her lips with unexpected tenderness.
Her body ached at the contrast, of the softness of his touch against the raw hunger in his voice. She shivered again, and he didn’t miss it.
With a low growl in his throat, Bucky pressed one of his thick thighs between her legs, dragging against the sensitive spot that was already aching for attention. She gasped sharply, and her hands flew to grip his shoulders for balance, but before she could say anything, his hand fisted in her hair, tilting her head back to expose the vulnerable curve of her neck.
His lips were on her a heartbeat later, hot and unrelenting as they trailed along her skin, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses and nips that made her shudder. The scrape of his teeth sent sparks down her spine, and when he growled again, the sound vibrated against her throat and she couldn’t stop the moan that spilled from her lips.
The sound seemed to set something off in him. His thigh pressed harder against her, sending jolts of pleasure as her body instinctively rolled against him. She felt the heat pooling low in her belly, and her mind was a blur of sensation and need.
“Bucky,” she breathed, with a trembling voice.
He pulled back slightly, just enough to meet her gaze, “Say my name like that again,” he commanded, in a rough whisper that made her knees weak.
“Bucky,” she whispered.
His hands tightened on her hips, holding her firmly against him as he leaned in to capture her lips once more. It was messy, desperate, and so consuming that she felt like she was drowning in him, in his scent, in his heat, in his presence.
When he finally pulled back, it was only to grab the front of her robe and tear it apart with a single, feral motion.
“Hey!” she protested, instinctively trying to cover herself.
“You didn’t like it anyway,” he retorted, dark amusement lacing his tone as he tossed the tattered fabric aside.
Her protest died on her lips when his hand moved lower, hooking into her underwear. “And I don’t like these,” he added, low and rough as he shredded the delicate material without hesitation.
Her cheeks flushed with heat as she stood bare before him, and his predatory gaze raked over intently, his expression darkening further when he finally saw the evidence of what he’d only smelled before, the glistening slick between her thighs.
“So damn wet,” he growled. Without preamble, two fingers slipped between her folds, sliding through the slickness before finding her clit.
Her body jerked at the contact, a whine escaping her lips as his touch sent a jolt of pleasure straight through her body. He didn’t hold back, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves with calculated precision, his rough fingertips adding just the right amount of friction to make her toes curl.
“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice dripping with sinful admiration as he watched her reactions. She was utterly pliant beneath his touch, resting her head back against the tree, lips parted while gasping softly. “So perfect like this.”
She could barely form a response as he kept up his relentless ministrations. Her hands shot out, clutching at his shoulders for balance as her legs trembled under the onslaught of sensation.
“Fuck, Bucky.” she panted, her voice shaky and desperate, as his fingers continued their slow, devastating circles over her clit and her hips moved involuntarily against his hand, seeking more of the friction he was so generously giving her.
“That’s my girl,” he murmured, laced with a possessive edge. He leaned in, and his lips brushed against the shell of her ear when he finally buried his fingers inside her. “You feel how good this is? How good you’re gonna feel when I’m finally inside you?”
Her knees buckled at the promise in his voice, and his grip tightened, holding her steady as he continued his ministrations.
His lips trailed along the sensitive column of her neck, and his teeth grazed her skin before he bit down gently.
Her nails clawed at his shoulders and biceps as his fingers worked her relentlessly, curling just right to hit the spot that made her vision blur. “Fuck!” she gasped.
“Feel so good, don’t you?” he murmured against her skin, as his thumb kept circling her clit with maddening precision. “So damn wet for me, and I’ve barely started.”
Her hips moved in tandem with his hand, grinding against him as if she couldn’t get close enough. Every thrust and curl of his fingers, every swirl of his thumb sent waves of pleasure through her body and she was about to snap.
“Oh fuck,” she moaned again, and her head lolled back as he continued to mark her neck. She was completely at his mercy, and her body trembled, as the heat built low in her stomach, threatening to unravel her completely.
“Chase it,” he rasped, pulling back just enough to lock eyes with her. “You’ll be so fucking beautiful when you let go.” His words were her undoing. Her body arched, and a sharp cry left her lips as she shattered, clenching around his fingers as the pleasure crashed over her like a wave.
Bucky didn’t ease up, and his fingers continued their relentless pace, driving her deeper into a haze of pleasure. She squirmed, pushing at his chest in a feeble attempt to stop him, but he didn’t budge. His other hand gripped her hip firmly, pinning her against the tree.
“Bucky,” she whined, her voice breathless and trembling, “I… I can’t-”
“Yes, you can,” he growled, with authority. “And you will. I’m not done with you yet.”
She gasped as he slid a third finger inside her, stretching her further. The sensation was overwhelming, but it teetered dangerously close to pure bliss. His thumb continued its torment on her clit, and her thighs shook as another wave of heat coiled low in her belly.
“That’s it,” he rumbled, his lips brushing against her ear. “I want you ready to take all of me, sweetheart. You’re mine, and I will make sure you know it.”
“Oh, cocky, aren’t we?” she tried to quip, but her voice shook as she clung to the last shred of control she had left.
His deep chuckle vibrated against her skin, “Yeah,” he retorted, his lips curling into a feral grin. “Cocky, indeed.”
Her response was lost in a breathless moan as he curved his fingers again, finding that perfect spot and sending sparks shooting through her body. She couldn’t think or do anything but cling to him as he worked her over with ruthless precision.
Bucky’s blue eyes bore into hers, feral and wild, “Come on,” he murmured, low and commanding. “Give me another one. Show me how good you can be for me.”
Her body betrayed her completely, tightening around his fingers as he pushed her closer and closer to the edge once more. His relentless dominance was intoxicating, and she hated how much she wanted to fall apart for him all over again.
“Don’t you dare stop,” she whined, “or I swear I’ll put bubblegum on your tail the first chance I get.”
Her body trembled violently as her climax tore through her, making her see stars. It was the most intense release she’d ever felt, and it left her gasping for air, every muscle in her body turning into jelly.
Bucky chuckled, clearly satisfied with the way she fell apart under his touch. Slowly, he withdrew his fingers, glistening with her slick, and without warning, brought them to her lips.
“Open,” he commanded, in a rough growl.
Her dazed eyes blinked up at him, but she obeyed, parting her lips. He pressed his fingers onto her tongue, making her taste herself. Before she could process it further, he leaned and crashed his mouth against hers.
He licked at her lips, her tongue, and his own fingers still in her mouth, mingling their breaths in a way that felt so filthy and erotic that it made her head spin.
His other hand cradled the back of her head, keeping her in place as he deepened the kiss, his feral nature showing in the raw hunger with which he devoured her.
When he finally pulled back, her lips were swollen and slick, and her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath. Bucky’s blue gaze glowed with pride and desire, and his mouth curled into a wicked smirk.
“You taste so damn good,” he murmured, thick with arousal. “Every part of you.”
Unable to hold back any longer, he fumbled with his belt and nearly tore his pants apart to free his throbbing, leaking cock. A guttural groan escaped from his throat as the cool air hit his heated length.
His glowing eyes locked on hers, filled with feral hunger. “And now, magic bun,” he rasped, “I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t walk… and then some more.”
With one hand, he gripped the back of her knee, lifting her leg to spread her wide. The other wrapped firmly around the base of his shaft, guiding it between her slick folds. He groaned low and deep as the head of his cock pressed against her clit, grinding teasingly against her sensitive bundle of nerves.
She gasped, and her head fell back against the tree as the tantalizing friction sent shockwaves of pleasure through her body. “Bucky…” she breathed half a plea, half a warning.
“Patience.” he growled. Slowly, torturously, he began to push forward, as the thick head of his cock stretched her inch by inch.
Her nails dug into his shoulders, and her breath hitched as he split her open, his size forcing her body to adjust to the overwhelming intrusion. He paused briefly, giving her time to catch up, though his trembling muscles betrayed how much restraint it was costing him.
“Fuck,” he groaned, his forehead pressing against the tree as he sank deeper. “So tight, so perfect.” He lifted her other leg from behind her knee and pushed again.
She whimpered, rolling her hips instinctively to meet him, drawing a shuddering growl from his chest. Her body stretched and molded around him, every nerve alight with pleasure and the intoxicating mix of pain and anticipation. Her breath came in short, heated bursts as her lips sought out his stubbled jaw, lingering before she nipped at his skin. It was soft but enough to provoke, enough to draw a growl from deep within his chest.
"Keep going, big guy," she whispered, her voice husky and laced with a mix of daring and need.
“Careful, sweetheart,” he rasped, “Once I start, there’s no stopping.”
Her hands slid up his chest, grazing the muscles beneath his shirt with her nails. “Good,” she breathed, “because I wasn’t planning on stopping you.”
That was all the confirmation he needed. With a guttural sound, Bucky thrust forward, stretching her inch by maddening inch. He kept his eyes locked on hers, watching the way her lips parted in a gasp, her pupils blown wide with pleasure.
“Fuck,” he hissed, his voice a broken growl as he sank deeper, claiming her completely. Her nails dug into his skin as her body arched against him, and a soft cry escaped her lips.
He rolled his hips again, slow but deliberate. “You feel that? That’s all me, and I’m not stopping until I’ve emptied my balls inside you, magic bun."
The vulgar promise sent a new wave of heat through her body. Her fingers tightened on his shoulders, nails biting into his skin as her body clenched around him in response.
“You talk a big game,” she managed to tease, the faintest smirk curling her lips despite the haze of pleasure overwhelming her.
Bucky chuckled darkly, “Oh, you’ll see just how big.” he growled, snapping his hips forward sharply, drawing a gasping cry from her.
He didn’t give her a chance to recover, since his movements became relentless in a punishing rhythm that was intoxicating. Every thrust pushed her higher, her moans grew louder, unrestrained, as his words and actions blurred her ability to think of anything but him.
"That’s it," he murmured against her ear, his voice ragged. "Take me. Take every damn inch."
His pace grew rougher, more determined as if his life depended on claiming her body completely. Each thrust drove her harder against the tree, and every delicious drag of him against her sensitive walls made her body sing.
“God, you’re tight,” he groaned, his lips brushed against her ear. “Like you were made for me. Do you feel that? Feel how perfectly I fit inside you?”
“Y-yeah, I feel it,” she stammered, her voice trembling with pleasure.
“You’re gonna take everything I give you,” he continued, his voice dripping with feral hunger. “Every. Last. Drop.” He punctuated each word with a deep thrust, making her cry out in ecstasy.
Her nails scraped down his back, leaving marks that only spurred him on. “Bucky! oh, fuck… I can’t-”
“Yes, you can,” he growled, gripping her hips tighter. “You’ll take it, every inch, every load, until you’re dripping with me. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
She could only whimper in response, her head falling back as he angled his hips just right, hitting that perfect spot that made her see stars. Her body tensed, the overwhelming pleasure building to a breaking point. “Bucky, I’m gonna- oh!”
“That’s it, cum for me,” he commanded, “Squeeze me, magic bun. Milk my fucking cock!” he growled, his voice rough and ragged as he felt her clenching around him. He could feel his balls tightening dangerously, and with a guttural roar, he drove into her one final time.
“Fuck! Just. Fuck,” he groaned, his hips jerking uncontrollably as he spilled inside her, thick, hot ropes of cum filling her up while he panted against her neck.
Her breath came in sharp, uneven gasps, and her legs shook as he held her up against the tree, keeping her pinned as he emptied himself into her.
“Goddamn,” he muttered, resting his forehead against hers, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.
She gave a breathless laugh, still shaky. “There goes your endurance”
He smirked, pressing a lazy kiss to her lips. “Don’t think we’re done, though,” he murmured, sliding down his hands to cup her ass. “Not until I’m sure you’ll feel me with every step tomorrow.”
"Bucky-" she started, but he pulled out his still-hard cock and gently set her down, immediately latching his mouth onto one of her neglected breasts. His teeth grazed her sensitive skin as he sucked and nipped, leaving her gasping.
“Oh, how many times did I imagine milking these,” he murmured against her flesh, his voice thick with want.
She quirked a brow at him, managing to ask between pants and squeals when he got rough. “Really?”
“Oh yeah,” he growled, squeezing both breasts with his large hands to make his point. “Every fucking time we shared a tent and you pressed them against me in your sleep. You have no idea what you did to me.”
She let out a sharp gasp, caught somewhere between indignation and arousal. “You creep! Ah!”
He chuckled, flicking his tongue over her hardened nipple. “I’m not a saint, but believe me when I tell you, another man wouldn’t have held back. They’d have taken advantage.”
Her fingers wove into his long, dark locks, an unexpectedly tender gesture despite the heated moment. She tilted his face up slightly, meeting his gaze. “I know. But you’re not just ‘another man.’ You’re my partner, and since our first quest, I’ve always known I was safe with you. Grumpiness and brooding aside... you’re the best.”
His movements stilled for a moment, then he pressed his forehead against her chest, brushing his lips in the swell of her breast as he exhaled deeply. “You don’t know how much that means to me,” he admitted, raw and almost vulnerable.
She smiled, scratching lightly at his scalp. “You don’t make it easy, but you’re worth it, Barnes.”
His blue eyes flicked up to hers. “I don’t deserve you,” he muttered, still exploring her body with his hands, tracing every curve.
“Not the time for the monthly self-loathing spiral.” she chastised. Her hand slid down his chest, fingers dancing over the hard ridges of his abs before continuing lower. When her fingers encircled his shaft -or at least tried to-she began to pump him slowly.
His breath hitched, sharp, and audible, and his hand shot out, grabbing her wrist. “Don’t,” he ground out, his voice rough and almost desperate.
She knit her brows, confused. “Why not?”
He kept his grip firm, clenching his jaw as he averted his gaze, with a flushed face. “Now’s not a good time,” he muttered. “Maybe... maybe when I’m not rutting.”
Her head tilted slightly, studying him. “What’s the difference?”
His grip on her wrist tightened just slightly, and his eyes flicked back to hers with a mix of restraint and frustration. “If I get too... invested,” he admitted, almost growling, “I’m going to shift.”
“Oh.” Her lips parted to say something, but she hesitated, caught between curiosity and concern.
“It’s not just about me losing control,” he added, almost hesitant. “If I shift mid-act, it’s... it’s a lot. I don’t want to hurt you.”
Her gaze softened, and she cupped his face with her free hand. “Bucky, you’ve never hurt me,” she said gently. “And I don’t believe you ever would.”
He leaned into her touch for a moment, exhaling heavily.
“I won’t let you get away with what you want as always. Not with this.”
“But-”
“Shut it,” he growled, cutting her off as he turned her around and manhandled her to the ground on her hands and knees, his discarded cloak softening her landing. His voice dropped into a commanding snarl, rough and dangerous. “Now I’m going to keep getting what I want, and you will take it.” He spread her thighs open with his knee. “You’re only going to open that pretty mouth of yours to moan or cry out my name.”
“Bossy now, aren’t w-” she began, sassy, but she didn’t get the chance to finish. His hand came down on her ass with a loud, stinging smack, making her gasp.
“You just had to insist on being a brat and coming with me,” he hissed, his lips close to her ear, his voice dripping with frustration and unbridled heat. “And then I had to fake fucking you in front of a bunch of horny bastards.”
His hand kneaded the spot he had smacked, “Now, magic bun, you’re going to pay for every second of that torture.” His hands gripped her hips possessively, dragging her back against him, pressing his leaking cock into her ass.
“You think I didn’t notice?” he muttered darkly, sliding a hand down between her legs “You’ve been soaking since that little show.” He pressed his fingers against her pussy. “This? This is all mine.” He growled and pressed the thick head of his cock against her entrance, already slick from his cum and her fresh wave of arousal. Without hesitation, he thrust inside her, burying himself to the hilt in one powerful motion. She cried out, arching her back as she adjusted to the sudden, overwhelming fullness.
He groaned, “So perfect, magic bun. Taking me so well.”
Her fingers dug into the cloak beneath her, and her breathing ragged as her body tried to accommodate his size. “Fuck...” she gasped, a mix of protest and pleasure.
He leaned over her, pressing his chest against her back as his lips found her shoulder. He nipped at her skin, sharp enough to leave marks, each bite sending a jolt of electricity through her already overstimulated body.
“Bucky,” she moaned, her arms trembling as she tried to hold herself up under the force of his thrusts.
“Don’t stop saying my name,” he demanded roughly against her ear. His hips snapped forward harder, and his cock hit that perfect spot inside her with every hard thrust.
She whimpered, dropping her head forward as her body surrendered completely to him. He growled approvingly, sinking his teeth gently into her shoulder before licking the sting away.
“You’re mine,” he rumbled as he drove into her relentlessly. “Say it.”
“I- I’m yours,” she gasped, her voice barely more than a whisper, but he heard her loud and clear.
“Yes, so damn mine,” His hand slid up her spine, possessively fisting her hair and pulling her head back. The exposed line of her throat and shoulders was too tempting to resist, and he sank his teeth into her skin again, marking her.
The wet slap of his balls against her clit grew louder, mingling with her breathless cries and his guttural groans, creating a symphony of pure, unrestrained need that echoed through the forest.
“Buck, y-you’re so deep,” she choked out, clawing her fingers at his discarded cloak for stability.
He chuckled darkly against her skin. “Deeper still, magic bun,” he rasped, his voice filled with raw determination. “I want to feel your womb kissing the head of my cock.”
He withdrew almost entirely, leaving her desperate and trembling, only to thrust back in with a force that had her crying out. His pace quickened, each stroke harder and more deliberate than the last, pushing her toward the edge of sanity.
Her walls clenched around him, pulling him deeper, and he cursed under his breath, the sensation driving him wild. “Fuck, you’re perfect,” he growled, his free hand gripping her hip so tightly she was sure it would leave bruises. “Made for me, made for this”
She moaned, arching her body, her knees threatening to give out under the relentless pleasure, as her body rocked with every thrust. He let go of her hair and reached down to play with her swollen clit, rubbing it in time with his thrusts. “Take it,” he growled, dark and commanding. “You’re gonna carry me,” he murmured, thrusting harder. “Gonna fuck you so full you won’t have room for anything else. My scent, my seed, on you, in you, everywhere.”
“Oh, fuck, Bucky,” she whimpered, her thighs quivering as she clenched around him, her body responding instinctively to his filthy promises.
She meowled, and her body responded with another involuntary squeeze around his cock. He groaned, the pressure almost undoing him. “That’s it,” he hissed while his pace grew erratic. “Gonna breed you, leave you dripping for everyone to see. “You want it, don’t you?” he rasped, circling her clit faster. “Say it. Tell me you want me to fill you up.”
“I-I want it,” she gasped, the words barely leaving her lips before another sharp thrust sent her spiraling.
He groaned as her walls pulsed around him, and he buried himself to the hilt. “Fuck!,” he growled, as his cock twitched inside her. “You’re gonna take it all. Every last drop. No one else gets to have you, just me.”
The orgasm hit him like a storm, spilling thick ropes of cum into her, the heat of his load making her whimper. He thrust a few more times, grinding deep as if determined to leave no part of her untouched.
His movements slowed, then stilled, and he remained buried inside her for a moment, his chest rising and falling against her back until he finally withdrew, groaning softly at the loss of her warmth. He pulled her down gently onto his discarded cloak, spooning behind her. The feral aggression that had consumed him moments before seemed to melt away, leaving behind a calmer, more satisfied version of himself.
“You alright?” he murmured, softer now as he brushed a strand of her hair away from her face. His hands smoothed over her sides, no longer gripping bruisingly but exploring her curves with a reverence that made her sigh.
“I’m fine,” she replied, still breathless. “But you are totally carrying me tomorrow in a piggyback. I don’t feel my legs.”
His lips twitched into a small, self-satisfied smile. “That was the idea, your limbs around me, where they belong.”
She rolled her eyes and snuggled her back closer to the warmth of his broad chest. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”
“And you didn’t escape,” he retorted, nipping playfully at her ear.
“Maybe I’m a sucker for punishment,” she quipped, tracing the lines of his forearm where it rested around her waist. “Or maybe I just enjoy being with the guy who acts like a beast but is actually pretty damn sweet when he’s not trying to prove a point.”
He huffed a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a scoff. “Sweet, huh? Pretty sure I wasn’t ‘sweet’ a few minutes ago.”
“No, you were something else entirely,” she teased, turning to meet his gaze with a sly smile. “But don’t let it go to your head, big guy.”
Bucky inhaled deeply and buried his nose in the crook of her neck. His hands slid up her side to cup her breast, his rough palm was gentler now as he thumbed over her sensitive nipple. He sighed, utterly sated yet still unwilling to let her go.
“We’ll need the tent,” he murmured and the deep rumble of his voice vibrated against her skin. “We’re not making it to the inn.”
She groaned, grimacing at the thought of wrestling with the cursed contraption in her current state. “Ugh, the tent. Can’t we just sleep out here and hope nothing eats us?”
Bucky chuckled with a low and indulgent sound. As if he’d read her mind, he nipped her shoulder, eliciting a squeak from her mouth. “You’re going to lay there looking pretty, and I’m going to set it up,” he said, leaving no room for argument.
She turned her head to shoot him a skeptical look. “Oh, so you’re all chivalrous now?”
He smirked, brushing his lips against her ear as he spoke. “Don’t push your luck, I’m trying to be nice here.” he muttered, adjusting the cloak around her shoulders as if she couldn’t do it herself. “Since I plan on fucking you again -and maybe a few more times after that- I’d rather you didn’t catch a cold. Also…” His gaze lingered pointedly on her chest. “I don’t want some random traveler getting an eyeful of your bouncing tits.”
She quirked a brow. “Funny, you didn’t seem to care about modesty a few minutes ago.”
He crouched down beside her, tugging the edges of the cloak higher over her chest as he gave her an unimpressed look. “Yeah, well, that was different. I was the one enjoying the view. No one else gets to.”
Her smile widened as she brushed her hand over his stubbled jaw. “Possessive much?”
He just stared at her, leaning down to kiss her, slow and deliberate, as if to remind her exactly who she belonged to. When he pulled back, his lips brushed against her cheek, and he nuzzled her affectionately. “Be good for once and stay put. I’ll set up the tent.”
“Oh, I’ll stay put,” she said with a mischievous lilt, shamelessly traveling her gaze down his naked body. “Enjoying the view.”
He rolled his eyes, but the smirk tugging at his lips betrayed him. He liked her looking at him like that, and she knew it. He made no effort to hide the way his muscles flexed as he moved, taking every chance to show off while setting up the tent.
“Really taking your time there, huh, big guy?” she teased.
“Maybe I am,” he shot back, giving her a knowing glance over his shoulder. “If you’re going to stare, I might as well make it worth your while.”
She laughed as she propped up on her elbows to get a better view. “Oh, don’t mind me. I’m just admiring your… big dedication to the task.”
He shook his head as he secured the last of the tent’s poles. “Come on,” he invited, holding a hand out to her. “Tent’s ready. Let’s see if its sturdy enough for my big dedication.” His smirk widened into a full-blown grin, and she couldn’t help but roll her eyes, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her amusement.
“Always so humble, Buck.” she observed, slipping her hand into his and letting him pull her up.
“Just calling it like it is,” he shot back, pulling her closer until their bodies nearly touched. “And judging by your staring, I’d say you agree.”
She opened her mouth to quip but then paused, frowning. “Um, Buck… by any chance did you bring the sack with the silver or…?”
His confident smirk faltered as his brows knit together. “Of course I-” He stopped mid-sentence, glancing toward the forest, and his expression shifted from cocky to sheepish. “I was a little preoccupied,” he muttered, scratching the back of his neck.
She groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Steve will love this.”
Bucky rolled his eyes, stepping closer until he loomed over her. “You think I care about what Steve thinks right now?”
She arched a brow, dropping her gaze lower. “Well, considering you’re standing here without a stitch of clothing and no silver in sight… maybe not.”
His lips curled into a slow, predatory smirk as he took her hand, placing it boldly against his hard cock. “You tell me, magic bun. Does this look like it cares about Steve, silver, or his damn surprise quests?”
Her cheeks heated as her fingers instinctively curled around him. She swallowed hard. “No, it doesn’t” she managed,
He growled, leaning down to nip at her bottom lip. “Now, get in that tent before I lose what little patience I have left.”
Her lips quirked, but she wisely said nothing, turning toward the tent with a sway in her hips that she knew he wouldn’t miss. Behind her, he groaned, with both exasperation and lust.
“Keep that up, magic bun, and we won’t make it inside at all.”
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: At Velmythria Academy, among creatures much larger and more powerful than yourself, you unexpectedly cross paths with the imposing werewolf– Bucky Barnes. Leaving you questioning the rules of the realm.
𝐒𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐲 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐒𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭: Ko-FI | Instagram | Personal Blog | Pinterest
𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫
𝐀/𝐍: Thank you all for taking an interest in this idea, I really hope I've done it justice! Also, I just added everyone to the tag list but of course, if you don't wish to be tagged in further parts, please let me know! - Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as mine. - Bethiee x
The grand halls of Velmythria Academy felt a little too vast for someone your size, the marble walls etched with ancient runes towered over you. A faint light pulsing from them. Velmythria– a place for all creatures, including those far bigger and fiercer than you, had been your home since birth. Born an earth fairy, your wings shimmer a soft emerald green upon your small frame, and you were the smallest of the fairy kind.
You effortlessly glided through the hallways, slipping between the Vampires, Sirens, Giants, and other creatures crowding. However, something felt different in the air that day.
Pushing the heavy wooden door, your wings fluttered slightly as you entered the ‘History of Velmythria Creatures’ class. Rows of seats climbed high up the walls, an enchantment casting over them to accommodate each student– The varied sizes, and needs of all. You had always enjoyed this class, hearing the tales of the ancient realms, the forgotten wars, and the lost creatures you only knew as myths. The classroom buzzed with recognizable languages, guttural growls, and other higher-pitched chirping.
And then there he sat– Bucky Barnes.
He took up almost the entire back row, the chairs although enchanted, were made to look laughably small against his broad frame. The werewolf stood seven feet tall and ran as the alpha of the Academy’s resident wolf pack. His thick, unruled hair seemed to have a mind of its own, and his blue eyes pierced as they scanned the room. The weight of which could make even the most confident of creatures uncomfortably shift in their chairs.
Your wings fluttered as you searched for a spot, every seat feeling impossibly large until you spotted an empty chair. Second from the back, just a row down from Bucky. The sight of him was enough for you to pause. As he sat slumped in his seat, the fabric of his shirt stretched over his shoulders. His elbows propped on the desk, large hands that were no match for the delicate stationery the academy provided.
His presence was impossible to ignore, yet you have never spoken to him. He was always in the background, silently commanding attention.
You settled into the seat before him with a soft breath, closer to him than you’d usually dare to be. The air around you thickened as you sat, trying to ignore the heavy and lively charge surrounding you and focus on retrieving your notebooks and pens.
The professor’s scales shimmered under the dim lights, an ancient dragon shifter, as the lecture began. The topic of the day was written across the chalkboard: Forbidden Bonds. A subject you’ve always found fascinating. Although, it was hard to focus, especially with the warmth radiating from the wolf behind you, making you hyper-aware of the space between you.
As the lecture progressed further into the topic, a faint crack echoed in the air. Glancing back toward him, you were just in time to see the pen snap within his heavy grip. His brows furrowed in frustration, staring down at the broken plastic. Without a second thought, you reached into your pencil case, pulling out another one of your opens.
Carefully you slide the pen– a small, woodland-themed one with illustrated mushrooms printed on the sides towards him. A strange shiver shot up your spine as your fingers brushed against his. His skin was callous yet warm, and in that moment, you heard him– a rumble, low and deep within his chest. Barely audible, it was almost a growl catching in his throat causing your wings to twitch into a flutter.
His attention shifted, his gaze heavy on you as you dared not to look. There was a long pause, neither one of you moving. But then, slowly, he took the pen, thick fingers holding it like it was fragile. You watched out of the corner of your eye, him testing the pen by scribbling a few lines on his paper. It looked almost absurd, his large hand accompanied by the cutesy design, and yet he did not comment. He simply just… used it.
Trying to refocus on the lecture, you couldn’t help but notice the pounding of your heart against your chest. Your thought drifted back to that brief moment of contact, and the way his quiet rumble vibrated through your entire body. His concentration was unwavering, yet from the small glimpses you caught, his grip was more careful now. It was as if he was being conscious of his own strength.
You wondered if he had noticed, sensed, how flustered you were. However, as the professor brought the lecture to an end, Bucky stood. Pocketing the mushroom pen without a word and began leaving the classroom. He never looked back at you, but the weight of his large looming presence lingered around you. And, it wasn’t until you heard his heavy footsteps fade away down the hallways that you finally let out a breath. A breath you didn’t realize you were holding onto.
An inexplicable pull toward him unsettled you. How could one small, accidental brush of contact begin to stir something inside of you? It made you question the rules of the realm, and how unbreakable the boundaries between creatures could be.
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.”
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.
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.
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).
