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rookthorne · 10 months

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⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐟

To rule the underworld took an iron fist, and it was easy to make your will known, but just this once, a soft touch — a gentle word, would get you what you wanted.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ֎ Artist!Bucky Barnes x Mafia!F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ֎ 2.3k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ֎ Fluff, Shy!Bucky ჻჻჻ TROPES: Meet Cute

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 ֎ Oh, this was some of the most fun I have had writing. ֎ If you recognise the Goddess on the right in the moodboard, you know my plans already. ֎ Thank you to all who hyped me up on this, and I am not sorry for how self-indulgent this is. I hope you enjoy.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒔 ֎ She Wolf by Shakira ֎ Confident by Demi Lovato

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 ֎ @buckybarnesevents Into an Alternate June-iverse 𝗖𝟭 — Sculptor AU — Masterlist ֎ @mcukinkbingo 𝗚𝟰 — Meet Cute — Masterlist

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧'𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“That will be all, gentlemen.”

Men scurried from the table at your dismissal, leaving the conference room empty and bare, aside from slips of paper and empty glasses left in their wake. It was a relief – after the past four hours, your patience had been tested almost beyond what you could endure. “Fucking men,” you spat, a snarl on your lips.

A heavy exhale whistled past your lips, and you swirled the last of your drink in your glass, and then slammed it back with a wince. Three knocks sounded on the heavy doors, and you rolled your eyes. “I said it’s over–get ou- Oh.”

“I figured you’d appreciate seeing a friendly face.”

You stared at the intruder for a moment, taking in the pressed suit and slicked back blond hair, neat beard, and bright, calculating blue eyes. “You’re right,” you sighed, pinching your brow. “How are you, Steve? Or should I call you Nomad–is this business?”

“Nah,” Steve said, smiling. You watched him take the seat to your right, his hands clasping together and resting on the table. “Here on pleasure actually.”

A snort of laughter escaped before you could compose yourself, and you raised a brow. “Is that so?”

Steve grinned and shook his head, pulling his phone out of his suit pocket. “My best friend, you remember him–Bucky?”

You casted back for a moment, the memory of the built and muscled artist that Steve gushed about to no end filled your mind’s eye – long hair, handsome features, and the sweetest and most shy disposition, one that made you want him more than anything else. Bucky had been in your sights for the longest time. “Yeah, I do. Why?”

“His latest exhibition has been a hit, and I was wondering if you’d come?” Steve asked, handing you his phone that was open to a webpage of the high end gallery down the block. “He’s asked about you, actually.”

Surprise gripped you in its claws, and it must have shown on your face if Steve’s smirk was anything to go by. “Why would your best friend be asking about lil’ ol’ me, Rogers?”

“Oh, c’mon,” Steve groused, taking his phone back. “You know why.”

“Enlighten me.”

The eye roll you received in return made you laugh, but Steve opened his mouth to continue, “Bucky saw you at the last gala, or something. You captured his attention.”

“And you’re telling me he’s asked about me because–?”

“Because I want you to get out of your damn office and out there,” Steve said, shrugging. “There’s no ulterior motive here, whatsoever.”

“I’ll believe that the day hell freezes over.” The glass in your hand thudded against the surface of the table, and you rose from your chair, your pant suit falling neatly into place and concealing your shoulder holster – not before Steve saw it, however.

“You’re still carrying?”

“No shit, Sherlock,” you snorted, stretching to the ceiling. “You expect the head of the Mafia to walk around unarmed just because she’s a woman?”

“No,” Steve cut in, his hands raised slightly. “I just thought since you have two hunks at the door, you would embrace your… feminine side.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you laughed, shoving Steve on the shoulder as he sniggered. “Let me get ready, and you can take me as your plus one.”

Steve saluted and strode out of the conference room, leaving you alone to your thoughts. You lingered at the head of the table, your hand running over the back of your chair, stuck in a vicious spiral.

For months now, you had wondered and thought about the shy artist, and, given the fact that the Adonis of a man was so damn shy, you’d kept your distance out of respect for Steve and their friendship. But here Steve was, strolling into your office – one of the very, very few people who could even make it to your floor without interception from any of your men (and women) – asking you to attend an evening at said artist’s gallery.

It made no damn sense. And for a woman quick on your feet, it drove you mad – there was an ulterior motive, Steve was crafty like that, but what exactly was it?

“Madness, it is,” you muttered aloud. “Fucking madness.”

What was wrong with playing the role of the she-wolf intent on hunting the lamb?

Nightfall had approached quickly in your anticipation, and you waited in the back of your car while your guards drove to the venue. Forgoing tradition, you wore a different suit, dark in colour with a slight shimmer in the fabric – big enough to hide your concealed sidearms, and warm enough to make sure you didn’t freeze in the chilled Brooklyn night air.

You shuffled up in your seat, and rested a hand on the driver and your head guard’s shoulder. “Jamie, darling, drop me and park the car. I’ll be fine with Ari.”

“Ponyatoy,” James replied, nodding once. “I will find you in the main hall.”

“Sounds good,” you affirmed, squeezing the muscle of his shoulder once, before turning to Ari. “Hear that, handsome? You’re up.”

Ari chuckled. “You betcha.”

The car came to a stop and Ari swung out of his seat, the blinding flashes of bulbs and cameras and spotlights of his open door not a surprise. “Good luck,” James said quietly, looking at you through grey, watchful eyes. “Do not let them ruffle you.”

“‘Course not,” you replied, smiling. “I’m the Queen of an Empire, darling.” The door opened and the roar of the crowd deafened you for just a second.

James huffed a laugh and faced forward once more, and you slid out of your seat to face the awaiting vultures. The car sped away behind you, and you stood tall, allowing Ari to take the lead and direct you through the doors and away from the press.

The sprawling gallery was swarming with rich guests – designer gowns and CEOs far as the eyes could see, while statues and sculptures and paintings lined the walls and set patterns over the floor, interspaced with waiters carrying champagne trays. “My God,” you breathed, taking it in with Ari standing at your shoulder. “It’s the lion’s den.”

“And you’re the Queen. Remember that, love,” Ari mumbled, his gaze darting around and watching the crowd.

“Always my saviour,” you whispered, leaning up on your heels to kiss him on the cheek. “Now, let’s find Nomad before-”

“You called?” Steve said suddenly, his voice over your other shoulder.

Ari laughed and shook Steve’s hand, breaking character just for a second before resuming his usual stance; brooding, and menacing.

“We’re fine to use names here,” Steve said lowly, leaning in slightly. “No one here knows what I am, they don't know shit. Well, except for Buck–kind of.”

“It astounds me that he is cool with it,” you mused, smirking. It gave you hope for your plans. Lowering your voice, you continued, “Being my best hitman comes with its own fame, after all, darling.”

Steve laughed and rubbed the back of his neck – the movement made your stomach flip. “Wait, he doesn’t know that part?”

“No, but he knows I work… in the underground?” Steve offered sheepishly, his eyes narrowing. “But it doesn’t matter, he knows I work for big names–it’s how he knows of you specifically.”

“Oh my god, Rogers,” you sighed. Ari raised a brow and made no comment. “Alright, at least he knows I’m not exactly innocent–Queen of the underworld, you know, such a prestigious title.” The words came out in a sarcastic huff, and you turned to look at the front doors where James was just striding in. “Ah, here he is.”

James came to stand next to Ari, offering Steve a subtle nod and a heated, lingering glance, of which Steve returned. “Enough heart eyes, you two,” you cut in, and the both of them stared at you sharply – you just shrugged. “Care to give me a tour, Stevie?”

“Yes, your highness,” Steve sighed, bowing and offering his hand. “Right this way, m’lady.”

You laughed and took his hand, walking arm in arm from sculpture to painting, mingling with the rich folk seamlessly. James and Ari tailed you both, just within reach and shadowing every move.

“This one,” Steve started, pointing at an intricately made sculpture against the wall and lit up by three spotlights – a centrepiece if you ever saw one. “It’s one of Buck’s favourites, he worked on it for months.”

“It is stunning,” you said, voice awestruck as you took in the angular planes of the medium. “I would love to have it in my office.”

“Who knows,” Steve ventured, looking at you with a playful smirk on his lips. “You could commission him.” His gaze ventured back to the room at large, and you watched his eyes light up when he fixed onto something in the crowd. “And talk of the devil. Buck!”

Your eyes darted towards the approaching figure – a dark blue button up hugging his chest, and black slacks that hugged his thighs, dress shoes gleaming and his hair, longer than when you saw him last, was tucked behind his ears.

The she-wolf in your chest perked and eyed the lamb with interest, her gaze heated and possessive. Bright eyes met yours, and you smirked, tilting your head back only slightly to appraise him, and the move caused a light flush to dust his cheekbones.

“Buck, it’s good to see you, punk,” Steve greeted, pulling Bucky into a hug. You sidestepped and flicked your fingers subtly – the sign for your guards to step closer. The overwhelming urge to be framed between them and show the lamb you were a powerful Queen took hold.

Amidst the show of power, Steve turned to you and grinned, offering your name.

You met Bucky’s gaze and smiled, showing your teeth. “It’s good to meet you, Bucky, officially,” you purred, offering your hand to shake. To your utter surprise, in his silence, he grabbed your hand and brought it to his lips and placed a kiss on the back of it. “Oh, and chivalrous too–Steve, darling, he’s mine now.”

Bucky spluttered and took a step back, his hand flying to the back of his neck with a nervous smile on his lips, his focus flickering between you and the gleaming floor at his feet. “It’s good to meet you finally, too,” he said quietly. “Thank you for coming–I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Oh, Pup,” you cooed, and Bucky blushed furiously red. Ari snorted quietly behind you, covering it with a cough. “Of course I’m here, Steve speaks highly of your skills and mastery, and I can see why.”

The look Bucky shot Steve could have melted gold with its heat, and you chuckled. “Never mind, darling,” you said soothingly, but it only made Bucky blush even redder. Poor thing, you thought. “Come, give me a tour.”

Without waiting for a response, you hooked your arm through his, and pulled him along, ignorant of his stumbling footsteps. The two of you did a few laps of the gallery, still arm in arm, while Ari and James trailed behind – their presence not seeming to bother Bucky in the slightest.

“Pup,” you said slowly, staring at the side of his face. “Tell me about yourself, darling.”

Bucky blanched slightly, a small hesitant falter in his step as he navigated the crowds with ease. “I, uh- Well, I grew up in Brooklyn-”

“Oh, no, not that, Pup,” you cut in, shaking his arm slightly, and he glanced at you, eyes narrowed slightly and brow furrowed. “Tell me about your art–why do you make these masterpieces?”

A rosy blush bloomed up from under the collar of his shirt, and you filed that information away for later – a weakness for praise, interesting, you thought victoriously.

“Because I’m using my hands to create something beautiful–bringing to life something new, unique, and it makes me happy, I guess,” Bucky rambled, his hand pointing at various works.

“I love it,” you marvelled, smiling at him – eyes glinting with the intent to consume; leave nothing in your wake. Bucky returned your smile, his gaze innocent and sweet.

The night wound down with plenty of champagne. When it came time to leave, you smiled at Bucky and pulled him into your side, your heels giving you an advantage. Leaning close, you kissed his cheek. “Such a handsome boy,” you cooed, revelling in the way Bucky’s eyes widened and stared at his feet, but he didn’t push you away. “I will see you again soon, Pup. Keep up the beautiful work.”

“Bye,” Bucky whispered hoarsely, eyes flicking up to meet your heated stare only briefly. You made your way down the stairs, blowing a kiss to Bucky over your shoulder.

A looming presence to your side caught your attention, and you looked over to see James stalking towards you, having sent Ari to fetch the car earlier. “You seem to have an eye for the artist,” James muttered, bringing you to the curb and standing closer to lend you his body heat in the chilly night. “It was interesting watching you make the poor boy flustered.”

“Wasn’t he sweet,” you whispered, leaning into James’ side. “I like him.”

“Ni khrena,” James retorted, and you slapped him on the shoulder.

The car pulled up in front of you, and James opened the back door for you, ushering you in. Silence fell as Ari pulled away from the curb and into the night, the streets twisting and turning as he drove you home.

The plush comfort of the back seat enveloped you as you leant back, reclining in thought of bright eyes and perfect, nimble hands – it was then you decided that you would pull out all the stops.

You wanted Bucky, more than you could have realised, and dammit all, you would have him. The hunt had begun.

ponyatoy = understood ni khrena = no shit

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #alternate juneiverse 2023 #rookthorne's works #She Wolf

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lazyneonrabbitt · 3 months

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Daryl has never been so proud.

After managing to get her into a car, which presented itself to be quite the challenge they had driven out to her last living space and took all the pelts and items she had left behind.

It was clear as day she was terrified of the vehicle but she soldiered through, wrapping herself and her son into their retrieved pelts for some comfort on the way home.

She did it scared.

"Where ya wan' these?" Daryl stepped through the doorway with a stack of pelts in his arms, staring at her pointing up the stairs and walking to show him. He followed suit.

The room she had been using for the last few days was still relatively empty besides a bed and a cabinet, but she wanted the pelts there, and the bed gone aparently.

"So, bed out." Nod.

"Mattress too?" He got a look in return, not really sure what it meant so he kept it up against the wall for now. "So what's next? Wanna check the community stash fer somthin' ta wear?"

Another short moment of quiet before she nodded. She wasn't comfortable around the people yet, had tried to meet some but quickly hid when even one too many came up to her. "Ya got me witya, ain' no one botherin'ya."

And so their first official trip around the community was a fact. Olivia had given them space on Daryl's request and promised to watch her as she dug through the inventory of clothing and fabric items and after having picked out a bunch of stuff and having wrapped herself in a thick, soft flannel Daryl had called Olivia back to check on their selection and went back home again.

It wasn't strange they caught a bunch of stares from original residents, seeing the strange new woman walking around and barely knowing how to function as a human. Even after being explained the situation they still weren't happy with this feral person freely walking around.

Daryl watched her pull the flannel closer to her body, head ducked low as to hide and put an arm around her. "Ignore them. 'M happy yer here so it don' matter what they think." She pressed further into his side, as close as she could while she held her son and Daryl carried their haul.

Another little victory for her.

Back home she quickly went back upstairs again, trying to get help with putting everything away. "Yeah I suck at foldin' this. Ya gotta ask Carol."

He knew she didn't want to. While Carol had offered her things she was still wary. Which he found a little weird with how easily she seemed to have stepped up to the gate and interacted with Rick. Probably adrenaline and the dire need for help.

"I'll come witya, but yer doin' the askin'." A grumble was all he got as reply as she picked up the newborn again and handed him over.

So now the three of them were on their way to two houses over. Her up front with Daryl at the porch steps with his son in his arms, which Carol found an absolutely beautiful picture.

"What brings you here, sweetie?" Carol stared at the scared woman and paid attention to her motions and noises, trying to get at least some gist of what she needed.

"I gotta come with you?" Nod nod. Carol nudded in return and agreed to follow, giving Daryl a look in hopes he'd tell her more but he shook his head. "Ain't helpin' er. She's gotta learn." He only shrugged and continued to play with the little one in his arms.

"You're good at that." She commented on the way he was so calmly handling his child he didn't even know he had a week ago.

Back home upstairs Carol was led to the pile of clothes, watching as she grabbed a shirt, flopping it into a somewhat folded mess and held it out to Carol who now understood why she needed help. "Yeah okay I see. Daryl sucks at folding laundry so you asked me huh." A proud smile made its way into her face as she nodded. She was pleased to be understood by someone else than Daryl.

"Okay so I'll show you and you watch first, okay?" Nod nod.

And so Daryl was seated on top of the nest of pelts with his son, absentmindedly chatting and bonding while the women were working through laundry lessons. "Shirt. Easy." Carol's voice was soft and clear as she talked through the steps of folding different items and watched her steps being repeated in a well enough matter. "You got this! You learn quick." She smiled widely with her compliment. "Now, don't be afraid to come by for more help, okay? I'm a friend."

Daryl said that word a lot. Friend. She knew it was a good one, it held a good feeling from long ago before she lost it all.

"--anh yoo" it felt weird to use her voice, but she knew she had to eventually. But when Daryl shot up at the sound she spooked a little. "Didya just.. talk?" The energy coming off both humans was that of pride and happines. So much it warmed her on the inside. She gloated and happily nodded. "Anhcyoo" she repeated herself and it was clear that she meant 'thank you'.

"Look at ya sayin' yer words." He had a hard time containing his excitement at her progress, and Carol couldn't help but give him a knowing smile.

"'M' so proud o' ya, wolfie."

~~☆☆☆~~

A/N: After some time there's a new one!

[Pt.1] [Pt.2]

#sometimes I write #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon #she wolf

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