#creature!reader

"What is it" Bride asked, looking at the small furry creature with displeased curiosity. The creature skittered in on all fours, hands uncoordinated and flailing a bit as they did so. They went over to G.I. first, sniffing at his arm. The robot squinted, attempting to run a scan, but they ran off too fast. They bounded over to Nina, who reached down a hand to pet them a bit as Elizabeth continued. "A patient at the site of John Doe's case was found. The DNA traced back to his saliva, and I requested to have them housed together"

"So he spit on a kid and now it's our problem? Great" Phosphorus said. "The results showed a similar genetic pattern to lycanthropy," Elizabeth responded "It's not making it easy on his case, but there is a connection between the two of them". The child scampered along, bounding up to Bride excitedly. Her steely gaze made them freeze, and they slowly backed up, instead heading straight for Dr. Phosphorus

"I wouldn't do that, kid-" Phosphorus said, trying to step back. The kid kept running over, eager to greet the radioactive man. Before their little snout could make contact, they were suddenly lifted off the ground. Weasel was back in the room, and he gave a big sigh of relief. He was able to lift the kid by their scruff before they could be hurt. He squinted at Phosphorus, growling as he turned away. "Don't give me that shit, I was making sure it wouldn't bite me" Phosphorus grumbled

"Poor thing," Nina said softly, watching Weasel carry them to his little corner. He plopped down, placing down the kid, who proceeded to roll around and curl up in his arms. "So this has to stay with us now? You expect us to take care of two of that thing?" Bride asked, pointing to Weasel. "I know, I know, but this is the only way I could get them somewhere safe. They were just going to experiment on them otherwise" Elizabeth answered.

G.I. focused on the game between him and Nina, while Nina herself kept sympathetically glancing at the new kid. Being a child, labeled as a monster... it hit much too close to home. "I think we can take care of them. It seems like Weasel's doing better with them around" she said hopefully. The kid was currently curled up right at Weasel's side, who was cradling them close and sniffing them to make sure they were okay. He gave a little murmur, tucking their head under his chin as he closed his eyes

"I'm not cleaning up after that thing" Phosphorus said. "There's nothing more I can do" Elizabeth reinstated firmly "So you might as well get comfortable with them". With that, she stepped out of the room, and the door was shut once more. Phosphorus glanced to Bride, who scoffed "This is such bullshit". "Come on, Bride, they're just a kid" Nina said "The least we can do is take it easy on them". Bride huffed, rolling her eyes, but she stifled any further comments

“OJ!”

He poked his head from beneath the truck’s hood at the sound of your voice. You were at the last porch staring into the hills beyond. 

OJ took in your stillness and noted your hands still dripping with soapy water. The bluetooth speaker wasn’t going anymore, had you turned it off so quickly? He put the hood down, going to where you remained. When he was close enough, you took his hand and pulled him back towards the stairs.

“Stay on the porch.”

OJ’s stomach flipped when the sound of Angel coming out of the front door, screen door slapping hard behind his offer of finishing the dishes if you were busy. Where was Em? She was there, phone aimed towards the sun as it sewed the sky in pink and purple.

He was about to call for her, but you were at Em’s side in the next breath. Em jumped and cursed but tried to follow your gaze as it stayed focused on the hills. You gently guided her to where OJ and Angel stood, the three of them crowded behind you.

Around them, the air stilled and then thickened. OJ kept his eyes on you as you watched the empty space before you. 

Angel’s voice dripped with nerves, “What’s going on?”

OJ shook his head, deciding to stay quiet. Beside him, Em released a shaky breath and all at once–your head snapped upwards and your left arm shot out as if you were blocking someone’s entry,

“TaaaAAAAaaaasssSStEEeeey….”

A crinkling whisper, a voice ground between grave and ash raking through his mind. OJ vision winked at the edges and suddenly there was something standing just to the side of you. Beside him Angel retched at the sight and Em’s hand gripped OJ’s. 

It looked like the colt they lost a month ago. Only now it was bleached white, its skull picked clean aside from the runny, lidless orbs that rolled about its head. It stood on two legs, stretched to fit whatever crawled inside as flies and gnats haloed as an awful crown.

OJ felt Angel reached behind him to grab into Em’s wrist. They huddled closer together, OJ trying to fit them behind him–trying to fit behind you. 

“They are tasty but they are not yours.” The sound of your voice drew air back into his lungs. The air chilled and then some more, Angel hid his face into OJ’s shoulder. 

“Wwannt…OOooonlY…ONE.”

The tall-colt made a noise, unhappy and it took a step closer. Your extended arm did not move, but it reared back as it shoved away. 

“They are all mine.”

“You are old. You are hungry.” Your voice swam across OJ’s skin and it sank in as a salve the longer you spoke, “I can find you food. I can give you peace. You cannot have them. They are not yours. Or anyone else’s.’

OJ’s eyes met Em’s, neither of their heads moving but they remained silent. Were there more? Were they surrounded? OJ felt his hairs raise on end and dared to swallow the rising nerves. 

The colt’s head tilted until its crooked chin pointed to the sky. Different parts of it inhaled, exhaled– it’s right thigh, the wrong side of its chest but never at the same time. The imitation of breathing, it reminded OJ of a broken accordion.

“CooooOould….taKe…”

“Could try. Will die. Hungry, still.”

It froze and OJ wondered if it was weighing the pros of testing your boundary, but he got his answer when the colt took a step back. The scent spiked like a demon’s skunk-like reaction to distress, the stench of rotting flesh bursting into the air. 

“SSsSssooosoOOOOO huUUnNgry….”

The words came out in a nasty gurgle, Angel flinched as he held in another lurch but you nodded with casual understanding.

“Stay inside until I come back.” You were talking to them now, voice carrying over your shoulder perfectly, “Do you remember what we talked about?”

Lock up, don’t look out.

Only when OJ, Em, and Angel recite it to your liking did you begin walking toward the tall-colt. It made a sharp, sad noise as it was repelled by your force. OJ could see bloody tears spring from its eyes before it turned away, your arm now guiding it back into the nothingness in which it came.

They all gasped when the pressure lifted, the stench of rotting flesh vanishing lingering. OJ felt like he could float from the sudden absence of other-wordly pressure. Angel finally darted inside to release his lunch into the  kitchen sink.

Em braced herself against the house coughed, “Fuck, that’ll never get old.”

…….

OJ knew the exact moment when you returned.

His stomach swooped, as graceful as a bird coming down to its home branch. He told the others to stay put inside as he readied to go outside, Pop’s 12-gauge at his side for peace of mind. He knew it wasn’t a sure solution but it was a good buy of time.

OJ made a quick walk to the barn, knowing you were there before he even heard your conversation with the horses. He paused at the sight of the heavy imprint of webbed feet, as large as a cougar’s until they led to Maple’s stall.

He took in the scales surrounding your feathered body, the claws scratching rhythmically into the oft dirt. You were quite large in this feline-lizard body, but Maple found comfort in the curl of your body. OJ wanted to wedge in, but this wasn’t about him. 

“She wondered why her offspring reeked of Other.” your voice drifted into the cool, open air as crystalline eyes trained on Oj, “I told her the truth. That was not her offspring, they are at peace.” 

OJ wished he could tell Maple he was sorry. That he wishes he could have at least buried Agave deeper into the ground. 

He sat down outside of the stall, gauge pointed away but near, “What was it? On the inside?”

“It was an old thing. Seeped into Agave’s remains to walk again.”  The large, fan-ended part of your tail patted the ground, “It traced Agave’s bones back to here. Seeped deep enough to remember her love for Maple, her love for you. That’s what made you all so…tempting.” 

He tried so hard to keep Agave going. She was born too early, and was just too weak. Oj spent every last one of her 12 days of life trying to give her a chance. It was good to know that, maybe, Agave did understand his care, “And did it go back?”

Your bismuth eyes glowed in the dark as the tip of your tail gave a flick, “It did. It will not be returning.” 

He nodded. While OJ did not know where this creature came from in your history, the form was built to win a fight. He wanted to ask more questions. About ‘old things’ and if they were staking out the horses, but he decided to have faith in you. After all, your senses were keen even before the confrontation at the porch. For the last few days, there has been tension along your spine, your eyes more animal than not. OJ has woken up more than once to your silent vigil in the night. Just as many times, he was lulled by the soft scrape-thud’s of your heavy wings on top of the roof. 

“It is getting cold.” 

Your voice was like a gente hug and prod, OJ knew he was being coaxed but allowed it. With OJ safely inside, he could watch over Em and Angel while you watched over them all. OJ understood, the last of adrenaline leaving as he began to stand. 

He went into the stall, pressing a kiss to your textured nose and petting Maple’s mane. He told her that you would take care of them all, but OJ had a feeling they already knew that.

“Goodnight, baby.” 

“Goodnight, my OJ.

OJ still did not know exactly what you were, but he trusted you. He trusted what he knew about what made you the being he loved. He loved you the moment you decided to grow gorgeous brown skin and coily hair, to live as his woman for as long as you could. 

So, he would go inside and have a stiff drink and listen for your wings above his head. 

💕taglist💕: @megamindsecretlair @sageispunk @mcondance @notapradagurl7

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@theerina @kindofaintrovert @hobiesblackgf

You whimpered loudly as you cowered in the corner of the pizzeria. Little children, no older then 13, surrounded you as their squeaky and high-pitched taunted you, stomping their feet, creating an overstimulated sensation. You cried loudly, not even understanding what they were saying, cradling your head in your hands.

Until everything went quiet, your nose inhaling the soft scent, of Henry. His deep, stoic voice spiking in anger as he yelled at them, the children crying in return as you heard them scamper off.

"OH, Y/N, Y/N? Are you okay?" Henry's frantic voice echoed into your head, as you let out a shrill and opened your arms and reached for him, he instantly leaped into your embrace, your hollowed eyes somehow are wet from tears.

"Those snot nosed kids, how rude of them" Henry growled, patting your head, cooing.

You sobbed quietly into his embrace, your chest shakily rising up and down, you were wheezing quiet heavily as you tried to balance yourself.

"so.....rude..rude!" you cried softly, Henry nodding in agreement.

"Let's hang out in my office, okay?" he softly spoke

You nodded sadly, as Henry helped you up, your back was hunched over as you clumsily was dragged to his office.

A spot just made for you, of pillows and blankets, little plushies and weighted blankets. Henry placed your down, wrapping a weighted blanket around you, smiling.

"I'll talk those kids parents, okay?" Henry hummed.

"'be... nice... nice" you frowned, cuddling up.

"of course.." henry smiled before leaving you to cuddle in your safe spot.

“You… want me to get Wanda?” Steve asked, rubbing a hand down his face, obviously still too sleepy for wolf charades. You shook your head and pressed your nose flat against where you were in the picture, letting out a soft woof. When you exhaled a sigh, your breath fogged up the glass, and when you pulled away, there was a perfect nose-shaped smudge of moisture over your face in the picture. Miming things was something all pack members learned, but you’d spent the last five years either in captivity or hiding who you were, so you’d gotten somewhat rusty at complicated non-verbal communication.

Luckily, Steve was a smart cookie. “Oh… you’re going to change back to human?” You nodded and he smiled. “Understood. How do you know when you’ll switch back? Is it something your brain tells you, or can you change at will after a specific point in time?” When you glared at him, he laughed and shook his head. “Right, too much. I’ll ask when you’re back on two legs.”

When you leaned back and balanced on your hind legs, wiggling your front paws in the air, Steve shook his head and chuckled. He was an extremely curious person, and over the last two days he’d peppered you with various questions about what you were, where you came from, and other inquiries about your species. Some you could answer with miming, while others were either too complicated to explain via a game of charades or required things you couldn’t show him while you were in wolf form. He did learn pretty quickly how to interpret your minute wolfy facial expressions, much to your relief.

When Steve didn’t leave the room, you glared at him. “What?”

You dropped back down to four legs and reached out to gently tap your paw on the tattered remains of your pajama pants, trying to convey your message. When you transformed into a wolf, you shredded whatever clothes you happened to be wearing if you couldn’t strip quick enough… so when you turn back to human, you’re exactly how you were when you shifted the first time: completely naked. It took Steve a few minutes to work it out in his mind, but after an amused raise of your canine eyebrow and a teasing swish of your tail, his eyes widened.

“Oh, you’re—OH! Right, you’ll be naked when you turn back.” He jumped up from your bed, smoothed down his shirt and flannel sleep pants, and cleared his throat. “I’ll… be out in the living room. Do you know how long the transformation takes?”

You nodded up and down before tapping the floor with your paw five times.

“Five… five minutes?” When you nodded again, he smiled. “Okay, well, I’ll leave you to it. Let me know if… you need me?”

You gave him your best wolfy smile, tongue lolling out of the side of your mouth, before he spun around and ducked out the door, closing it firmly behind him.

The transformation from wolf to human took longer than it did from human to wolf, but you still had to actively initiate the process once you felt the tingling muscles of an imminent change. Sure, you could let the tugging and itchy feeling of the change go on until your body changed on its own, but that led to awkward situations and a lot of shredded clothes, much to your annoyance. It began with muscle twitches and an itchy feeling under your skin, and quickly escalated over the course of a few hours until instinct would take over and force you to change right then and there when the moon’s influence began to increase, when going from human to wolf, or wane, when going from wolf to human.

Judging by the way your muscles began to bunch and stretch in your back legs, you knew that if you didn’t actively begin the transformation soon, instinct would take over within the hour and do it for you.

Again.

The mission you were on in Prague a few days ago took a tad longer than you were expecting, allowing you to remain distracted enough to ignore the warning signs, which led to the change coming upon you so rapidly that evening that you hadn’t had time to strip before you turned into a wolf. Sadly eyeing your shredded pajama pants once more, you jumped back onto the bed and quickly settled down on your belly, closing your eyes.

In the beginning, when the elders of the pack are teaching the young ones to transform, the process can be quite painful. The shifting of muscles and bones, and the retreat and growth of fur is taxing on the body, to the point of causing some to pass out from exertion during their first few transformations after they hit puberty. Withdrawing your consciousness into the mental imagery of your choosing allows the change to happen with only mild discomfort as bones settle into their new places, but it takes practice to perfect.

The transformation was different for everyone, some imagined caging darkness or taming something wild to switch back to human, while others welcomed a weary animal into their arms to allow it to finally rest. In your mind, you imagined a dark forest slowly brightening with the rising sun, eating up shadows and sending nocturnal wildlife scurrying into their dens. Between one breath and the next, you felt your fur disappear, your extremities straighten and elongate, and your ears shift to the sides of your head. When you opened your eyes, you shivered at the cool air in your room and looked down at your very human hands where they were stretched out in front of you.

Doing a quick mental scan of your body to make sure everything was in its proper place, you got up from the bed and stretched, lifting your hands up high in the air and rocking forward on your tiptoes to stretch your back, moaning softly in pleasure when your joints popped and shifted to support two-legged walking once more.

“Y/N?” Steve called from behind the closed door.

“Yeah,” your voice was raspy and hoarse due to disuse, so you cleared your throat and tried again. “Yeah, I’m getting dressed. I’ll join you in one second.”

Steve gave an affirmative noise and you quickly darted to your dresser and opened the various drawers to pull out a bra and underwear, a t-shirt, and pants. Getting dressed expediently was something all werewolves learned, and you were fully dressed and opening the door to your bedroom only fifteen seconds later. Steve was pacing in your living room, and he stopped dead in his tracks when the door opened, turning to look at you.

“Werewolf,” Steve blurted, his eyes widening and his cheeks darkening in color when his brain caught up to what his mouth just said.

“Yeah,” you chuckled, moving into the room to sit down on the couch. “Werewolf.”

“Sorry,” Steve mumbled, dropping down to sit at the other end of the couch opposite from you. “I’m just… I have so many questions and my brain can’t keep up with organizing them all. But before you say anything, I’m sorry for overriding your security lockdown, I was worried.” He tapped his left ear. “Enhanced hearing, I heard really shallow breathing and thought something was wrong… didn’t expect to find a panting wolf laying on your bed.”

The bark of laughter that escaped your mouth made Steve raise his eyebrows. “I’m sorry, I just wish you could have seen your face when you walked into my room. It was priceless.”

Steve snorted and rubbed the back of his neck, giving you an embarrassed shrug. “Yeah, well, you try reaching out to comfort someone and end up finding a giant wolf instead.”

Steve looked up at you when you placed your hand on his arm. “I really did appreciate the sentiment, Captain, even if it wasn’t quite the time of the month you assumed it was.”

“I wanted to make sure you’re taken care of and comfortable,” Steve nodded before he smiled at you; you could practically see the questions swirling behind his eyes. “So, judging by how well you were able to communicate with me and how aware you are of yourself in that form, I’m guessing you were born a werewolf?”

He was referring to the several wrestling matches you’d had over the last few days which had allowed you both to expend some pent-up energy in a safe environment; it wasn’t like Steve could walk down to the gym with a wolf at his side. You were an even match with Steve while in wolf form, or perhaps even stronger, but if you weren’t careful, you could bite or scratch and injure someone without realizing. A few times when you’d had Steve pinned under your bulk, wolfy tendencies like fighting for dominance bubbled to the surface and you’d come close to nipping at his neck with your teeth.

“I was,” you confirmed. “The pack I was born into was one of the eleven major North American werewolf packs left at the time.” Sadness filled your eyes, and you dropped your chin. “That number is down to only four now.”

This time, Steve placed his hand on your arm before scooting closer, his comforting and familiar presence setting you at ease even though you really didn’t know him outside his role during missions. Still, you knew at this moment it was Steve Rogers in front of you, not Captain America.

“Can I ask what happened?”

Steve had asked while you were in wolf form, which you’d been unable to answer at the time, but now you were human, there was no more avoiding the question. “We’ve been fading out for centuries. Less and less pups,” Steve raised a confused eyebrow and you smiled, “pups are baby werewolves. So few have been born, leading to packs getting smaller and smaller to the point of needing to be absorbed by others or dissolving completely.”

“Which does yours fall under?” Steve asked tentatively.

You pulled your eyes away from his crystal blues and stared at your hands clasped in your lap. “Mine was the third to fall apart. I was the last pup born, and the first one born to the pack in almost forty years, before things collapsed. I was still so young when all of the leaders and elders of our pack disappeared overnight, took our supplies and the horses, and vanished.”

Steve’s eyes widened, then hardened. “They just left?” His head tilted adorably. “Wait, horses? How old are you?”

“In human years? Well, werewolves age very slowly after thirty or so, so that would actually put me around your age, Cap,” you snarked, knowing you were actually a few years older than him. “But the werewolves that left, a few wanted to experience what they considered a normal life, others wanted to join another larger pack with more… variety and better things to offer.” You left the explanation vague on purpose, but based on Steve’s tightening shoulders, he knew exactly what you were referring to. “Normally there would be a pack vote, all members have a voice and a choice when it comes to major choices about the pack as a whole. But we were so small… the leaders just decided to go their own way without any input, taking the strongest of the pack with them, assuming those who wanted to would find them and follow.”

“And I’m guessing that’s not what happened?” Steve asked.

“No,” you gave a watery laugh. “You were in the Army in World War II, right?” He nodded. “Imagine being at a base waiting for orders, and overnight all of your commanders vanished, taking all the intel, maps, and equipment with them. What would happen?”

Steve let out a heavy yet soft breath. “Chaos.”

The story was painful, but you retold it. You explained how hurt you were when you woke up and realized everyone except you and a dozen others were left out of the forty who were there the night before. Steve tensed when you explained the horrible infighting that erupted and lasted for decades as those remaining fought for dominance, even though you were all inexperienced and unequipped to handle the responsibility. Steve held your hand when the memories became too overwhelming, resulting in you having to pause and compose yourself.

When you lifted the hem of your shirt and showed Steve the mark on your hip, his hands curled into fists. Three inches long and two inches wide, the jagged scar of a crescent moon was forever burned into your skin, branded there by Jeremy, the tyrant werewolf that rose to power in the pack after using violence and threats to beat everyone else into submission. You closed your eyes, fighting the wave of nausea as memories of that night filled your senses, memories of being pinned down and the smell and pain of burning flesh.

“He said it was a reminder,” you explained, “that we belonged to him and he could do whatever he wanted with us.”

Steve’s outrage didn’t lessen as you began the story of how Jeremy sold you to a group of scientists who were interested in studying unique creatures. According to the bits and pieces of conversations you’d heard during your captivity, they were trying to see if they could isolate and create a serum to turn someone into a werewolf. Steve was extremely interested when you told him that contrary to popular belief, werewolves cannot be created through bites, they can only be born. Biting a human while in werewolf form would do the same thing as if it was an actual wolf doing the biting: nothing.

“And that’s how Fury found you? SHIELD raided the facility?” Steve asked, his chest rising and falling as he took deep breaths to calm himself.

“Yeah, and it was actually Sharon who called Fury in when she found me lying on the cold concrete floor of my cell, half dead and fading in and out of consciousness.” You smiled at Steve’s surprised reaction to Sharon’s name. “Come on, Cap. You know Sharon can keep a secret.”

Although he tried to hide it, Steve snorted out a laugh. “Yeah, she can. How long did it take them to realize you weren’t human?”

“Only a few minutes. The scientists made me wear this stretchy leather bracelet, it had GPS and this taser-like thing, so they could find me if I tried to run or zap me if I got too aggressive while I was in wolf form.” You wrapped your left fingers around your right wrist, the phantom pressure of the bracelet making your skin itch. “It had an ID number printed on it, so I’m guessing Sharon just dug through the computer and cross referenced my ID number to find my file. It wasn’t like they tried to keep what I was confidential, it said ‘Species: Werewolf’ right at the top.”

“Most evil organizations aren’t very security conscious when it comes to the files they have. Romanoff said the last few we took on had encryption that looked like it was written by a ten-year-old.” Steve’s amused smile slowly disappeared as he glanced over at you. “I’m really sorry that happened to you, Y/N. I’ve always been curious about the source of your abilities, but I would have never guessed it was because you’re a werewolf. Did Fury convince you to come work for SHIELD?”

You exhaled out of your nose and shrugged. “He didn’t really have to. Whatever home I had with my pack disappeared the moment Jeremy sold me to those scientists.”

“Another pack wouldn’t take you in?” Steve asked quietly. “I doubt they would have stood by without intervening if they knew what you were subjected to.”

Sweet naïve Steve, you thought to yourself before shaking your head. “Unfortunately, that’s not how it works. Whoever becomes the leader of the pack doesn’t have to report to anyone, there’s no check-ins or meetings with other packs aside from the event of a merging of two packs. As long as Jeremy was recognized as leader, he could do whatever he wanted with no repercussions, or at least until someone challenges him for the title.”

Steve swallowed hard, and you could practically taste the flames from the question burning on his tongue. “So, you really have to rely on the leaders for pretty much everything.” It wasn’t a question, but you nodded anyway. “The concept is crazy to me, but I’m an outsider, I wasn’t raised in it, so I wouldn’t know. It’s really similar to how wolves in the wild are, though, right?”

“Well, similar in some respects, yeah,” you explained, trying to find a way to elaborate without sounding like the narrator from a nature documentary on the Discovery Channel. “Aside from the obvious of having a human form that can function as any normal human can, pack hierarchy is very similar to wolves. One pack leader, or Alpha, controls the day-to-day operations of the pack, like where we’re staying, delegation of jobs and tasks, and they also direct cash flow.”

“Where did you rank in the pack? You’re a smart girl, I doubt any good leader would not keep you close to the top.” Steve bumped his shoulder against yours, and you almost jumped, not realizing he had moved closer as you’d been talking and was now sitting right next to you.

“I was a high tier Beta, and I did advise the prior pack Alpha on decisions and helped him create work schedules.” You paused, gathering your thoughts and hoping Steve didn’t ask anything more about the other roles of each designation. “And lastly, yet most importantly, are Omegas. They are the caretakers of the pack, responsible for helping raise and educate the children.”

Steve opened his mouth, then closed it, before swiping a hand down his face. “I have a lot more questions about the specifics of the pack, but it’s not my place to keep prying like that.” Before you could tell him that you didn’t mind, that it was nice to actually talk about it with someone, he moved on. “I want to make sure you’re comfortable on the team, first and foremost.”

The quick change in subject almost gave you whiplash. “I am, Captain.”

He smirked. “I think we’re on a first-name basis now, Y/N. You can call me Steve outside of missions.”

“Okay, Steve,” you said teasingly, “but yeah, I mean it. I really am comfortable on the team. I make sure to sign up for missions outside the days I shift, and nobody’s treated me any differently even though they might not know where my powers originate.”

“Then why hide what you are? Nobody on the team would treat you any different if they knew. Having a wolf during a mission could be useful—I’m sure you have better senses than both me and Buck while you’re on four legs—but we wouldn’t force you to go on missions as a wolf if you didn’t want to. It would just be in case something happens, like if you can’t get back here before your shift begins, we can protect you.” Steve paused when he looked at your face, taking in your concerned and fearful gaze. “I’m… I’m not going to tell anyone, if that’s what you’re worried about. This is one-hundred percent your choice.”

The silence between you was heavy in the air, and you peered up at Steve, surprised at the honest sincerity on his face. It wasn’t as if you were worried about Steve spilling the beans, you knew he wouldn’t. You were worried about the team’s reactions. Even though you were still the same person, and it was only their understanding of your true species that would change, you didn’t want any more attention on you than there already was.

“I know you wouldn’t,” you murmured, “but that’s… not what I’m worried about. I spent the last few years of my life being nothing more than a science experiment, I’m sure you can understand that feeling.” Steve smiled softly and nodded. “If you present Tony and Bruce with something they didn’t understand or don’t have any information about, what would be the first thing they’d want to do?”

Steve sighed, his facial features relaxing when he finally realized the reason for your hesitance. “Do a bunch of tests and take samples and scans to better understand. Right, I see what you mean.”

“And Bucky and Natasha? It’s ingrained in them to dig into things to better understand them, through hacking, research, interrogation, or breaking into places.” You shivered, but not because you were cold, and you leaned away from Steve when he tried to offer his body heat. “The only copy of my file from that facility is in one of Fury’s secure document storage locations. I really don’t want anyone digging into my past or sticking their nose in places where it might end up being bitten off.”

Steve understood your reasoning, of course he would. A human experiment of his own who was also subjected to testing and monitoring, he knew at least some of what you went through during your captivity. You also knew he read all the Hydra files Natasha discovered on Bucky’s captivity and what he was subjected to when they wanted to test the serum’s effectiveness. Even though you didn’t specifically say it, he knew you were likely given the same treatment as Bucky when the scientists tried to understand your species.

“Do you think he’ll come after you?” Steve asked.

The question was something that had crossed your mind after SHIELD had rescued you, but you doubt Jeremy knew where you’d ended up after the facility was raided and shut down. He probably thought you were killed a long time ago. “I don’t think so. He has no reason to. He was paid up front, it wasn’t like he was getting a stipend or something each month I was being experimented on and would come sniffing around when the money flow stopped.”

“Well, even though I understand your reasoning and respect it, I still think you should talk to the team,” Steve offered, relaxing back on the couch. “You don’t have to tell them specifically what you are, but maybe just some information about your circumstances to help in case things go sideways on a mission. If you want, we can go talk to them now, everyone should be gathering for dinner.”

The request was sincere, and you chewed the inside of your lower lip. It would be nice to not have to hide in your room when you were a wolf, and being able to run around the compound and wrestle and play with everyone would be fantastic to help burn off the excess wolfy energy you accumulated. However, you were still reluctant to dive in with your eyes closed. You needed more time to go over specifics and had to develop a plan to explain what you were without specifically saying what you were.

Smiling at Steve, you nudged his shoulder. “I’ll think about it.”