Safe Place

promise

frank castle x reader

It was the first time in a long time Frank was in a deep sleep, when he heard a loud bang on his front door.

He was out of bed, half-asleep, gun cocked as he made his way to the sound, fearing the worst. As he quietly opened the door, gun ready, he let out a groan when he recognized your prone body collapsed outside of it.

“What the fuck, I was sleeping.”

You glared up at him half-heartedly. “Just calling in a favor, Castle.”

He could tell you were injured, blood staining your jacket and trailing from a cut on your cheekbone. He didn’t even think twice as he leaned down to carefully scoop you up into his arms and into his apartment; you’d done it for him enough time that he really did owe you one.

“What is it this ti-fucking christ.”

You’d pulled your jacket off, lifting up your sweater to reveal the 8 inch gash along your side. It was deep, blood pumping out at a terrifying amount.

“Just a quick stitch-n-ditch, I promise.”

Frank rolled his eyes, trying to hide his concern as he quickly grabbed his kit from under the sink. “I’d be amazed if you didn’t pass out from blood loss within the next ten minutes, sweetheart. You ain’t going anywhere.”

You gave in pretty easily, considering there was no way you were walking out by yourself at this point. A stab wound to the ribs, possible broken wrist, and most likely a concussion.

Frank didn’t say a word as he stitched you up, focusing on his work. He could feel your gaze on him, heated and soft. Like always. He could move his face an inch and kiss you. But he wouldn’t.

Keep reading

Also this mood board is so hot I couldn’t concentrate while reading the fist paragraphs of two minds one body

Fucking hell this is so good !!! Imma die it’s so fucking good

Hello to my favorite writer!!!

I saw that you had time so how about some mafia bucky with like a badass reader and like people are more afraid of her than bucky

And maybe like instead of reader being in danger and bucky coming to protect you can make that bucky is in danger and the reader saves him 🙃

Love you !! 

Ok I love you so much right now, you are seriously fuelling my Mafia!Bucky addiction! I hope you enjoy this as much as I did!

Lioness || Mafia!Bucky

Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, blood, violence, murder, smut. (in that order too lmao) this badass reader got real violent in the middle there oops someone woke up and chose violence today WC: 3116

Two men stood arguing in the shadows, watching the man tied to the chair hang limp and unconscious. The Don turned to his Capo and grabbed the lapels of his shirt as he saw the ‘gift’ he had been brought. “What the fuck is this?”

“What you asked for?”

Throwing the smaller man aside, the boss strode out of the dark and slapped the man until he woke. Grabbing his hair, he tipped his head back and turned it to the capo so he could see the crystal blue eyes. “I asked you for the head of his mob, you brought me the Dona's bitch.”

“You fucked up.” Bucky laughed despite his split lip that reopened with his smile. “My girl’s going to take pleasure draining the life out of every single one of you cocksuckers.”

Bucky’s head rocked sideways at the backhand he received and the rival Don’s jewel encrusted rings sliced his cheek. A pained groan escaped his bloody lips but that was the only satisfaction he gave them at his suffering as his fingers pressed the crown of his watch, the movement hidden having by his hands tied behind his back. It was only a matter of time until you arrived.

“We need to move out.” The Don ordered his men. “Call everyone, tell them to get to the casa sicura.”

“It's one woman.” The Capo frowned as he watched his boss’s face pale. “What threat could she possibly be?”

“You obviously don’t know how a lion's pride works, do you? You look at a lion and think he is fierce but the truth is without his lioness he would starve. The lioness hunts, the lioness protects. He is merely there to fuck and please her.”

“Give me some good news.” You snapped as you shrugged your jacket from your shoulders and tossed it over the back of your office chair.

“The tracker in his watch has just come online but it's deep in Little Italy.” Steve, your 2nd in command, updated you as he typed on his laptop.

You dropped into your chair and mindlessly twirled your butterfly knife as you wondered what the Don was up to. He had never been brave enough to outright start a war with you, there had to be something else going on. It didn’t matter, there was nothing to ponder, Bucky had been taken and you would stop at nothing to get him back. Slipping the knife back into your pocket, you opened the cupboards that lined your office and saw the arsenal of weapons waiting for you.

“You’re not seriously just going to go in there are you?” Steve gawked as you pulled on a custom bulletproof vest that doubled as a holster that could fit four handguns plus magazines.

“You’re not seriously just going to let them kill your bestfriend and your boss are you?” You shot back without looking as you checked the magazines were full before shoving them into place and grabbing a rappelling rope.

“Of course not, but you’re indispensable unlike the rest of us.”

Steve joined you and began to arm himself while you monitored your husband's movements, the red blip making its way through Brooklyn. “They’re on the move. Time to go.”

“Woah, we should wait for reinforcements-”

You cut Steve off with a glare and he gulped his suggestion down before following you out of your office and down to the garage. You looked over the array of keys and chose the Rolls-Royce Cullinan since it was the fastest of the armour plated vehicles you had collected. You didn’t bother looking back to make sure Steve was still with you, he either kept up or got left behind, it made no difference to you.

“I can’t believe you have a fucking shield.” You rolled your eyes as he slipped into the passenger seat and dropped it at his feet.

“Better than getting shot.”

The roar of the engine as you hit the accelerator drowned out the degrading insult you muttered and you flew out into the traffic with little regard for anyone else on the street. Red lights, stop signs, angry horns. They all went unnoticed as you raced across the city, weaving in and out of cars so you could get to Bucky as fast as possible. You couldn’t imagine your Italian rivals being gentle on him and the thought of anyone hurting Bucky sent fire igniting in your veins.

Your knuckles gripped the wheel tighter and Steve watched as your jaw clenched. “He’s gonna be fine. I know he’s soft for you but that jerk is still a tough son of a bitch.”

“If they have hurt him, I swear to god the streets will run red with their blood.” You said as you took the break in traffic to look at Steve. “It will be fucking biblical.”

The car fell silent as Steve avoided looking your way. You knew he couldn’t understand your bloodlust, very few people could. It was a man's world and the men only seemed to understand strength through violence. To be a part of their world you had to be more violent, more deadly, so they would see you as an equal. It turned out you did more than just become an equal, your reputation became the whispers of nightmares and rivals began to fear you more than Bucky.

Bucky was the only one who accepted you and loved you for who you were. He never once tried to rein you in like the others or grew jealous of the power your name held, he thrived on it. It was why you would do anything to keep him safe, even if it meant being hopelessly outnumbered in enemy territory. He would do the same for you.

“Park down that alley on the right and we will have to go the rest of the way on foot.” Steve said as Bucky dot stayed stationary inside the industrial building.

You parked in the shadows and shut the engine off, turning to Steve before he could climb out. “I need you to stay here.”

“No way, he’s my best friend!”

“And he’s my husband!” You hissed. “I need you to have the car ready for a quick get away. Don’t make me pull rank here, Rogers.”

He didn’t look happy but he didn’t argue which was the best you could hope for as you tossed him the key and opened the door. “Give me five minutes then move round the block to the front. Unless they have RPGs you should be safe with whatever they fire at you.”

“Should be?” He muttered. “That’s reassuring.”

Your lips tipped up into a smirk at his sarcasm and you stepped out of the, turning back and hitting him with your own. “Guess you could always hide under your shield.”

You quietly closed the door and disappeared up the rusted fire escape, making your way over the rooftops instead of the busier streets below. Spotting an armed guard up ahead, you hid behind a water tower and drew your knife from your pocket. You would have plenty of time to use your guns but for now you didn’t want to announce your arrival.

The steps of the guard grew closer and you heard him humming a tune as he approached, your men would never be so stupid as to do that because it made it too simple to pinpoint when they would be in reaching distance. Your hand flew out, swiping the blade across his throat before he could even react and you grabbed his shirt to pull him away from the view of anyone else, his quiet gurgles stifling the song he had sung.

You froze as you heard another man calling out, assuming he was looking for his deceased amico. You waited ready as before, back pressed to the water tower and knife waiting for its next victim. This time your target was alert for something amiss and his steps were quieter, the sounds eaten by the noise of the city below. You spotted his gun first, peeking around the corner and you blocked the turning body with your forearm before slicing his wrist, the gun clattering to the rooftop as his tendons were rendered useless.

His scream erupted faster than your hand could bury the blade in his throat and you knew your stealth positioning was ruined. Grabbing the rope from where it hung over your back, you tied it around the two men and hooked it into the special clip on your vest. There was no time to second guess your plan as you heard the echoing sound of more than one pair of boots on the metal stairwell of the fire escape. Running across the roof, you ducked as gunshots sounded and leapt over the edge.

The rope burnt your palms as it ran through your fists and you hoped the bodies above stayed where they were before you clenched your grip and came to a jarring stop, your arc stopping before gravity pulled you back towards the building. The stunned face of the Don standing in front of the wide glass pane was almost comical but there was no time to laugh before your feet crashed through. Shards of glass tore at your clothes but you rolled to a stop relatively unscathed and drew two guns as you rose to your feet.

“Kill her!” The Don screamed as he rose from where he had fallen and shuffled his way to the stairs. “Kill the fucking bitch!”

You couldn’t believe this man dared give his soldiers orders but didn’t stay to see them through, he was not worthy of being their leader. Thankfully there weren't many of the soldiers in the room with you, most of his men must have been sent up to the roof and hadn’t made their way back down yet. Three well aimed shots dealt with them but one had managed to hit you before they died leaving your breath winded from where the bullet struck you in the vest.

Chasing after the Don you took the stairs two at a time, putting down everyone that got in your way, and you looked at your watch - 4 minutes and 38 seconds had passed. Finally, you reached the ground floor of the old warehouse and found the Don standing near the exit. Roofing iron lined the walls of the large commercial space and in the centre was your husband, slumped in a chair with slow streams of blood running down his handsome face. Your hand stilled as you looked at the weapon aimed at his head and the smirk on the Don’s face.

“Not so brave now are you, leonessa.” He spat. “Let me go, call this blood feud off and you can have him.”

You could hear the men from the rooftop coming down the last flight of stairs and knew you would be trapped on both sides any moment, you were running out of options and Bucky was starting to stir awake. If you could just see his eyes one more time before you died you would be happy. Suddenly the throaty rev of an engine pulled your attention away from the soldiers about to descend on you and towards the wall that was crumpling under the front of your Rolls-Royce, right beside the Don.

You dropped to your knees as you saw Steve’s window had the barrel of an AK-47 hanging out of it and he opened fire at the capos and soldiers, parking himself between them and Bucky. Your ears were ringing from loud gunshots but you couldn’t cover them as you needed your arms to crawl across the concrete and towards the Don who was pulling himself from the mess Steve’s entrance had made.

“Where do you think you are going?” You hissed as you grabbed his ankle and twisted the already broken limb, revelling in his scream. “This is what you wanted.”

“Please, it was a mistake.” He begged.

“You bet your ass it was a mistake.” You chuckled as your fingers curled around your knife. “One you are going to pay for with your life.”

You were bored of his tears and pleas, your ears already hurting and a headache forming. He was lucky, any other time you might have taken him with you and elongated his torture to appease the anxiety and stress he put you through but you just wanted to get Bucky out of there. You didn’t even take the time to watch his blood pool across the concrete or the colour drain from his face, you were already on your feet and wiping the blood off your knife before pocketing it and limping around your car to Bucky.

“There’s my girl.” Bucky sighed with a smile that cracked the blood that had dried on his cheeks. “Knew you would come for me.”

“Always.” You kissed his cheek gently as you reached behind him and sliced through the ropes that bound him, checking over the burn marks they left behind before helping him from the chair. Steve was already opening the door for you as you supported Bucky and got him settled on the backseat, turning your attention to your 2IC. “That wasn’t the plan.”

“I had to improvise.” He shrugged. “You were right about the armour though.”

“I’m right about most things. Now, get us home and have Dr Banner meet us there.”

You joined Bucky in the back seat and he took your hand as soon as you were in his reach, the familiar calluses settling the adrenaline that had been flooding your system since you heard he had been ambushed. Now that you weren’t high on hormones you were starting to feel the aches and pains of the many small injuries that littered your body.

“You’re bleeding.” Bucky said softly as he pulled the collar of your shirt away to see one of the cuts from breaking through the window.

“So are you.” You reminded as you leant into his touch.

“They barely touched me, doll.” He chuckled. “They were too scared of you to do any real damage.”

His fingers opened the buckles on your vest and pulled the thick layer away, not missing the wince as you moved so he could pull it off completely. Lifting your shirt up he saw the bruise that was already blooming across your ribcage and shook his head, softly placing your shirt back down before Steve looked back in the rearview. He felt terrible that you got hurt for him but knew that it went both ways and if the roles were reversed he would have done the exact same thing, just maybe not with the finesse you had.

“What am I going to do with you, babygirl?” He asked quietly as he kissed his way along your jawline.

“I can think of a few things.” You sighed as his shadow of a beard tickled your skin and your need for him spread faster than the goosebumps over your body.

Your fingers reached out for the control panel on the centre console and the blacked out glass began to rise, creating a barrier between Steve in the front and the back with you and Bucky. You could feel Bucky's smirk against your throat as his hand rose up your thighs in time with the window. Some jazz music began to play and you rolled your eyes at the poor taste both Steve and Bucky shared but you were grateful to have the sound overpower your moans as Bucky’s hands massaged your thighs.

“You get me so fucking hard when you I see you play with that knife.” Bucky teased you with his words and his fingers that were slowly opening your pants. “Seeing the fire in your eyes.”

“Yeah, like this baby?” You pulled the blade from your pocket, catching it with a twirl before running it down his shirt on the blunt side. “Should I just cut your clothes off so there’s nothing stopping me from having you this instant?”

His chest shuddered as a moan expelled on his breath and you watched his tented pants twitch as he enjoyed your teasing. Taking his belt you slipped the knife under the leather and sliced through it before dropping it to the car floor and pulling his pants down his legs. There was no patience left in you, you had to feel him. It was almost more reassuring than just seeing him alive, you wanted to feel his body under yours, his thick cock filling your pussy.

You kicked your own pants off and his hands guided you over his lap, his fingers teasing your entrance and feeling your folds already slick with arousal. He seemed to have as much patience as you did as he pulled you down to spear you with his blunt head, your heads tipping forward as you moaned together. You were careful of the cuts on his face, lacing your fingers in his hair instead and you gently kissed the corner of his lip that was split.

“You take more security now on.” You ordered as you rolled your hips over him.

“Mhmm, anything you want.” He agreed, knowing that you would stop if he tried to argue.

“I’m serious, Bucky. I can’t live in a world without you in it.”

His hands cupped your cheeks and he leant back so he could look you in the eyes, his blue irises blown with lust but still clear as the summer sky. “You won’t have to. Wherever we go, it's together. Hear me?”

You nodded and wrapped your arms around his neck, needing to feel every inch of him, needing to have as much of his touch as you could possibly get in the confined space. If your kiss hurt he didn’t show it but you could taste the metallic tang of blood on his lips as your tongue danced with his.

“I love you.”

You panted as your head tipped back, the assault of his tongue on your collarbone sending you head spinning before his thumb slipped between your thighs and added to the ecstasy. Everything felt warm, like the comfort of coming home to a roaring fire on a cold winter’s night and you felt the warmth of his breath on your skin as he replied, tipping you over the edge and into bliss.

“I love you too, doll.”

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Dreams of Wolves and Light | Geralt x Assassin!reader

Description: When a misunderstanding leads to you having to fight a Witcher of all people, you encounter the last person on the continent you’d ever expected to.

Length: 3.5k

Trigger Warnings: fighting, blood, aggression, swearing?,

STARS’ MASTERLIST

MORE OF ‘THE ASSASSIN’S CREED AND THE WITCHER’S CUB' UNIVERSE

Note: I am heavily basing my character design/backstory off Assassin’s Creed lore so its abit of a cross over. I am in love with both of the games so I felt abit of a crossover would be interesting.

Your mother. That was all you could smell. It brought you a comfort you hadn’t known in decades, the sweet scent of her hair oils filling your senses like a soft kiss to your face; that was the first sign you were dreaming. Nothing in your real life was so gentle as this anymore.

“Mother,” You heard yourself ask, not in the adult tone you knew by now, the one rugged with the scars of growing up. No, this one was young, tiny. Innocent. You barely remember being this age. “What did the seer mean, that thing she said about my destiny?” You asked curiously. You couldn't have been older than five.

This was a memory, you were certain of it, though the edges were blurred with the mirage of sleep, marred with the curse of losing one's memory as a long time passes. It was so dark in this dream, the image of Mother all but a shadow. You felt your hands run through her long hair, the trellises as soft as ever. You knew she was dead, but this all felt so real.

A honeysuckle laugh met your ears, calm and liquid: “You shouldn’t worry about destiny just yet, sweet pea. It’ll make sense someday,”

Your voice, your real voice, called for her in your slumber. It was perhaps this loud noise or the rumble of speaking in your chest that started to wake you, but it didn’t stop you clinging to the dream that bit tighter.

“But what did she mean? I don’t understand, there’s no wolves around here, are there Mama?” You heard yourself questioning frantically.

She simply chuckled again, and you felt a soft stroke of a mother’s touch on your forehead, soothing your qualms about what the seer had predicted for your future.

“Hush, pea. Nothing bad will happen to you while I’m here.” She soothed. You felt the cold of the outside, the real world, calling you home as she began fading into the deepest part of your mind once more, “Now enough talk of light and wolves and other such nonsense. It’s time you slept, little one,”

And yet, in a horribly ironic turn, it was then that you awoke.

The feeling of the scratchy, cheap sheets of the bed grounded you, finally bringing you out of your solemn reminiscence of that day, along with the horrid realisation your feet were practically like ice under the thin duvet. Your eyes scanned the room for the culprit of your discomfort until your eyes snapped on it. The window was open, letting a biting cool breeze nip at your skin.

You sighed, sitting up from the bed with a groan of effort. Yesterday’s journey had been particularly exhausting and your muscles were paying the price for it.

You thought about your dream as you packed up your things to travel once more, and took a deep breath of sourness as you exited the tavern and began climbing up a nearby church steeple to survey your area closer. You took little notice to a few townsfolk below you gasping as you expertly scaled the tall tower, as if your hands were made of hooks. There was no trickery needed, you simply had years of practice. It’ll make sense someday, the soft voice reverberated around your head tauntingly, and you gave another bitter sigh.

Because your mother had lied. She had died, and yet you still had no clues to what the seer’s vision meant. It had taunted you for years since she had passed, each turn of the phrase in your head as riddling as the last. Her old croak of a voice had uttered such an illusion to you, one you would never forget as long as you would live until you found the answer you wanted.

Dear Child, she had said, The wolf and the pup will guide you to the light or drag you to the darkness.

Your eyes scanned the horizon for any sign of someone travelling through the woods, just as the target you were here to kill supposedly had been for the past three days.

Your brotherhood had informed you of a cloaked figure moving between towns in the area, said to be slaughtering villagers in the night like some human shaped grim reaper. But the villagers weren’t just chosen at random, they just so happened to be informants for your creed, those who had happily given you and your brotherhood information over the years about your targets.

You called them the Keepers. They were an order of knights and lords who managed to find themselves in high courts all across the continent, whispering in the ears of leaders to control the continent as they pleased, starting wars and slaughtering people at a flick of their wrist under the titles of advisors to the court. Your creed had been able to keep them at bay for the time being, but they were getting stronger, smarter, and now you were losing your key informants at the hands of your enemies.

So it was only logical that the brotherhood decided to send their best assassins out to hunt the killer. Or killers perhaps. You had your private suspicions that this was a much bigger plot than it seemed, that many malevolent leaders had their puppeteering fingers on the strings of these killers. They weren’t working alone.

There! Your eyes caught sight of a small flume of smoke coming from amidst the trees, around a two hours ride away from here. In all likelihood, it was nothing, yet if they were simply a traveller they may have some more information on where your newest target was.

So, the woods it was then, you decided.

“If only mother could see me now,” You almost laughed to yourself cynically at your words, checking the street below for a soft landing, your eyes narrowing on a deep enough pile of hay that would break your fall well, “So much for that destiny bullshit,”

And with that you leapt.

»»-----------►

Geralt watched Ciri contort in her sleep, frowning as he heard her mumbling empty threats to some unknown assailant. His heart went out to the cub, it really did, he just had no idea how he was supposed to defend her from figments of her own mind. Goblins and ghouls, he could handle, but Geralt knew more than the average man that the biggest threats we faced were often the darkest parts of ourselves only we could confront.

“Stay back,” The blonde girl whimpered, her legs thrashing on the woodland floor. Geralt minded how her boot got a little too close to the hot coals that was all that remained from their fire last night and decided he needed to wake her up for her own good. As if hearing his concerned thoughts, the Cintran girl’s eyes snapped open without prompt, taking in the bright new morning they had awoken to.

“Glad to see you’re awake,” Geralt started, packing the few items he had into his rucksack ready to load Roach up for another day of journeying towards Kaer Morhen, “How did ou sle-”

“Someone’s coming,” Ciri rushed, giving little explanation as she sat upright, disturbing the dry leaves around her small body. Geralt seemed to tense up in alert in synchrony with the worry in her voice.

“What do you mean? Where?” He asked sternly, golden eyes flicking between the trees frantically to see where the problem was.

“I don’t know, I just saw them in my dream,” Ciri frowned, her eyes trying to chase the source of her vision just as much as her protector’s were. “A man in a black cloak and a mask, he was reaching for me. I couldn’t get away,” Her voice wobbled with the trace of the fear she’d felt in her dream, knowing it was about to become a reality before her very eyes. Her visions always started like this.

Geralt sighed, looking at the younger girl’s startled frame. He had forgotten what children were like when they had convinced themselves the monsters in their head were real. He was so sure she was just on edge from her morbid sleep, “Ciri, I’m sure it was just a nightmare,” The older man tried to reassure her, but the girl had since hopped up to attention, her heart racing with fear.

“No! No, Geralt, it wasn’t like the black knight. It was different this time, you have to believe me! I saw him,” Ciri said fiercely, eyes flicking through the trees as more snippets of her dream started playing out before her until… “There! A rider!”

Geralt looked at where she was pointing, her expression somewhere between triumph and fear as she locked in on the man from her dream. His attuned senses caught up to him as the sound of fast approaching hooves met his ears, and he made out the figure of a dark cloak atop a grey horse, an omen of death if ever he’d seen one.

“Go stand behind Roach. Don’t reveal yourself until I tell you it’s safe to.” Geralt ordered, blindly following the girl’s intuition. He had no idea who this person was, but the accuracy of the Princess’s dream told him to trust her word nonetheless. She followed his command, standing behind his mare’s large, muscular legs and using the surrounding bushes as slight cover from whoever this man may be.

He drew his sword as the rider approached, lifting his own dark hood over his head and hiding behind a large tree in order to size up this mystery passenger.

Geralt heard Ciri’s heart pounding from her hiding place, rhythmically in time with the hooves of the approaching horse. He felt as if he were holding his own breath, waiting for the assailant to hopefully pass by with no qualms on their position, the sound of the footfall only getting louder in his sensitive ears. He didn’t doubt his skills necessarily, he knew he could protect Ciri from any regular foe, but his time with the Cintran girl had been nothing but a handful of surprises, even the gift of her herself. It unnerved him that she had seen this man approaching them; why him?

It struck him then what was odd about the approaching fiend. He couldn't hear a heartbeat.

There was something different about this enemy, he could feel it in his gut.

The rider slowed their horse down to a trot, then to a walk as they neared the camp he and the girl had slept at. He heard them dismount gently, their feet much lighter than expected as they closed in on his makeshift campsite.

He tried to listen for any other clues as to who the target was, but all he heard was a brief fumble of a hand on the forest floor as they felt around the dying fire, no doubt trying to gage from the heat in the soil how fresh or old the flame was. They were smart, skilled at tracking it seemed.

Geralt decided it was now a good time to confront the man in question. He couldn't risk him advancing on Ciri.

The white wolf rounded the tree, sword bared and ready for a fight.

Except there was no one there.

The horse they had rode on still stood obediently, so they hadn’t left, he would have heard if they had anyway. There were no tracks, the ones that remained seemed to have been swept away by the man’s long cape that Ciri had noted immediately.

They had just … vanished. Like a ghost or a flume of smoke simply fading into the air around them. No trace they were really ever there.

Geralt stood to attention, ears pricked like a wild animal on the prowl for its prey as he took in every minute movement around him. His head snapped to a small movement in the tree above him, only to see a small crow hopping between the branches innocently. Sure, that very well could be them considering some mages were well known to shapeshift, but Geralt’s eyes flickered around the perimeter unconvinced.

For a moment, there was just silence. Ciri’s heart pounding in his ears from her spot, Roach’s much slower heartbeat overlapping it. He was sure even he was holding his breath as he searched for any sign of the assailant.

And yet nothing.

He had but a millisecond to react as he heard a faint twig snap above his head before it was too late. A body - the body he had been searching for in fact - landed on his shoulders with a diligence he had only seen in professional killers. The unexpected force of a figure damn near knocked him to the floor, though luckily he was more than built enough in his legs to handle the weight. He did, however, drop his sword in shock, and was left grappling with the perpetrator with his bare hands.

The, who he now guessed was an assassin due to their expertise skill, wrapped his cloak hood over his face, effectively blinding him and suffocating him at the same time. He reached out for any part of their body he could grab hold of, satisfied when he felt the culprits waist, grabbing it with both hands and heaving them forward with a heavy buck towards the forest floor.

The assassin was flung to the floor, though they had the good sense to grab his cape in just the right place from around his neck to take him tumbling to the ground too. The figure kicked out a heavy boot into his stomach as he careered almost on top of them, and even his quick reflexes felt numbed as they skillfully pinned him to the ground. He felt a set of thighs wrap around his neck, arm yanked upwards towards a surprisingly well endowed chest, before they began to squeeze like a muscled constrictor around his neck.

Geralt groaned in effort as his throat began to pay the price for his opponent's quick work. Luckily, his eyes caught sight of a small blade in the side of the assassin’s boot, and he was smart to yank it out of its holder before his airways could be shut off. He plunged it into the figure's thigh, making them grunt shortly and loosen their grip on his neck. Just as he'd wanted, he grabbed the figure by the scruff of their own cape and threw them to the ground next to him.

The pair of them stood, Geralt only equipped with the assailant's own blade, as he watched the figure in question pull another two long knives out of their waist scabbards. He debated drawing one from his own boot that he knew lay hidden, but their smaller, more nimble stature told him his odds were against him at a knife fight. He was good with a sword, gods know he was good with a sword, but this assassin clearly operated with small, fast movements, something his brawny build worked against.

Instead, Geralt chose a smarter route. He moved his hands into the symbol of axii, pushing his hands forward to thrust the wind in their direction to knock them hard away from Ciri.

The white haired man felt his mouth drop open when the galeforce current he sent towards them was deflected by a cross of their wrists, as if they had bounced the wind off their being with the action.

Instead, the spell he had conjured was sent straight back at him, launching him backwards, further into the forest. His body dragged along the floor with the weight of the spell, ironically knocking the air out of his lungs in both force and shock at the action he had just witnessed.

What in the continent was that?

He barely registered the fact the movement had thrown him past Roach and Ciri, his mind racing to catch up with what had just happened, but he didn’t miss the young girl’s worried eyes following his falling figure, nor did he fail to see the way the assassin ran at him with their blades drawn.

Geralt barely had time to sit up to defend himself before the dark hooded figure had jumped at him, their weapon pressed against his throat oddly delicately. He could barely make out who was beneath the hood from the black sheath they wore over their mouth and nose, and the clothing was draped too far down to see any eyes. The figure looked like what he imagined the grim reaper to be, the omen from the stories he and his brothers used to tell each other before bed back when they were just young ones. The other hand brought the twin blade careering down towards his head, and Geralt prepared himself to take the stab to the hand when Ciri spoke up.

“NO! STOP!” The young cub yelled, revealing herself even though it had been clear from their new position that they were not at all alone.

Geralt watched the figure freeze for a moment. It seemed a shred of humanity gleamed through the assassin’s behaviour as they heard a mere child beg for mercy. Their head snapped towards where Cirilla stood, false bravery on her expression as she watched the figure look straight at her, their attention diverted away from the white wolf.

“Ciri?” The assassin said, though the voice was muffled from the mask and much higher pitched than Geralt had imagined.

It was then that the small frame, the voice, the quiet, nimble movement they held, it all wove together in Geralt’s mind.

It dawned on him that this assassin was in fact a woman.

A woman who had stupidly taken her eyes off him.

He knocked her clean off her feet as she stared at the princess for much longer than he felt comfortable with, her smaller body rolling clear out of the way of Ciri and Roach, dropping one of her knives in the process.

You groaned as you felt the effect of his hard punch land hard where your nose was, rattling your brain inside your head. It couldn’t be, surely you were seeing things. That couldn’t be the princess.

As your thoughts raced, you were unceremoniously picked up by the scruff of your neck like a pup in a litter. Your most obviously concealed weapons thrown to the ground next to you as the Goliath of a man handled you with revenge in his piercing golden eyes.

He ripped your hood down revealing your neatly braided hair and partially covered face, though you simply looked over his shoulder at the girl who had shouted for mercy.

You had to know if it was her. What on earth was she doing so far from Cintra? She had grown so much since you'd last seen her. Why was she with your target? Your heart plummeted as you feared the worse for your sweet girl: Had she been kidnapped by this man?

“Eyes on me,” He growled at you, watching as your gaze had ignored him and gone straight to his child surprise. “Now, who sent you?

Your head snapped back to him at the hostile mutter of his question, “Who sent me?" You snarled, "I should be asking you the same thing,”

Geralt huffed, bringing one of his large hands up to your throat as you kicked viciously against his brutish strength. “If you want to talk in riddles, I have no use for you,”

You prepared yourself to start wrestling against his grip when a figure appeared over the shoulder of the man, exactly the one you could have sworn blind you'd heard. Your eyes widened at the girl you had left all those years ago.

“Y/N?” Ciri asked cautiously, as if the mask that lay on your face deceived her. But the way you’d looked up at her had her curious, and she was so sure when she’d gotten a closer look at your cape and facial features, the years came back to her in waves of nostalgia.

Geralt’s head turned to the young cub who approached carefully, her grey fur coat dragging behind her slowly. He felt his hands loosen from around your throat as he saw the saddened glint in Ciri’s eyes, and something tinged with recognition as she said your name again. He put you down the minute he saw her reaching for you longingly, and the second your feet met the floor she had rushed forward to take you in by the waist, burying her head into the crook of your hood as if she was greeting a family member.

You hugged her back just as tenderly, pulling your black mask down to reveal quite a beautiful face indeed, bar the bruise that was quickly forming on your nose thanks to Geralt’s heavy hands. “Sweet girl, what on earth are you doing here?” You asked in a voice so soft he couldn’t believe you had been grappling to kill each other not five minutes earlier.

Geralt’s head swam with lost thoughts. How on earth had you escaped and left no tracks in the first place? How had you deflected his axii like that, he was so sure that was impossible, and more importantly, why was his child surprise holding onto you as if her life depended on it?

Nothing about you made sense, not one single piece of information and so Geralt, in his whirring mind had nothing else to say to you except: “Who the fuck are you?”

-----

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This was part 2 for my 500 follower celebration! I hope you enjoyed I lowkey hate it

Hey beautiful Ollie, how are you? If it’s okay, I was wondering if I could get a short lil thing written up by you. It’s my birthday today and I’m spending it alone this year. I thought I would be okay with it, but I just feel so depressed and alone. I don’t even know how to actually describe the feeling, but it’s not a good one. I don’t have much of a specific request in mind, just something cute and sweet about gn!reader spending their birthday being spoiled by Steve and Bucky and just made to feel important on their special day. Bonus points if reader is upset about being written off by their family, so Steve and Bucky pick up the slack and cheer them up. I know that request sounds so dumb, but it would really mean so much to me and at this point, all I want for my birthday is a fic by my favorite tumblr writer. Thank you for reading and I hope you have an amazing day.

Happy birthday beautiful!!! I had to get something whipped up for you before I start work as I don't want to miss out on your special day, I hope you enjoy it. I'm sorry you are alone this year, I'm thinking of you and sending a big hug your way xx

Birthday Wishes || Stucky x GN!reader

No warnings, just fluffiness.

If you thought you were spoiled waking up to presents and cuddles with Steve and Bucky, it was nothing compared to how you felt now. 

“No. Way.” You stared wide eyed at the restaurant Bucky had pulled up in front of. “Isn’t this place like invite only?”

Bucky grinned proudly as he watched your reaction. “Steve may have pulled some strings. We wanted to do something special, doll, it’s your birthday.”

Reaching over the gear stick, you squeezed your boyfriend’s hand appreciatively before smiling. “You guys didn’t have to do this for me. You’re gonna have trouble topping this next year.”

His own smile widened and he shrugged, turning the car off as the valet person walked around to his door. “We wanted to, you’re ours. Plus, I’m sure we will think of something, we do have a whole year to prepare.”

Your door was opened to reveal Steve smiling brightly, his need to make sure everything was perfect meaning he had arrived half an hour earlier. You stepped out with the help of Steve as Bucky rounded the car, offering you his elbow after straightening his bowtie. Safely tucked between your lovers, they led the way inside the prestigious eatery and you frowned as you saw it was completely empty. 

“I know you wish your family could be here this year but there’s a lot of other people who love you and want to celebrate with you.” Steve said a moment before a curtained wall dropped and revealed all of your friends you had made through the Avengers. Pressing his lips to your temple, you somehow heard his soft voice through their loud cheers. “Happy Birthday, sweetheart.”

“Alright, stop hogging the attention.” Bucky joked as he pulled you into his arms and you tipped your chin back to look into his eyes. “Did I tell you how stunning you look tonight?”

You shrugged with a smile. “You may have mentioned it once or twice.”

“That is a travesty, I should have said it at least a hundred times by now.” He tutted before stealing a quick kiss as the crowd arrived. “You really do look beautiful.”

Emotion swelled in your chest as you were embraced by each of your friends, the ache in your heart left by your family slowly easing with each kind word and hug received. 

Your feet ached but your heart was healed as you ate and danced the evening away, Steve and Bucky doting on you every second of it. When you finally crashed onto your bed at home you couldn’t even articulate just how much you appreciated what they had done for you, opting inside to show them the best way you knew how. Drawing them closer, your hands roamed their bare chests to the nape of their neck and pulled them in.

“I love you so much.” You sighed contentedly, their arms wrapping around you as they nuzzled into your neck to pepper kisses across the sensitive skin.

“We love you too.” Steve spoke for both of them, Bucky’s deep humm of agreement sending a shiver down your spine before he looked at the clock and found there was a minute to midnight. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

*Sees the limo* Me: Nice. *Sees Jake* Me: Nice. Also Me: Someone’s gonna write fanfic involving Jake and the back of this limo and I can’t wait.

Okey but like I genuinely don’t understand how someone can write so many masterpieces !!

Not a single of what you wrote bored me to this day !

Also loved this part : "He's just as grumpy as every other one hundred year old man but he's not scary."

Hello there! I don't know if you're interested in a (maybe) multi-part fic, but I had this idea for a while and can't take it from my head, maybe you can help

Telepath!reader that is new in the avenger's team and still can't control all her powers (especially when she is asleep). Nicky still has nightmares and reader feels his fear "pulling" her into his dream. She transforms Bucky's nightmare into a silly dream, thinking it's her dream. And it happens every night, but they don't know that they are really interacting with each other, because they think it's just a dream. But they start falling in love with each other.

I was thinking multi-part because each part could be a dream. So it would be a slow burn.

I love your writing and I think you would do amazing work with this, but it's ok if you're not interested.

Thank you for this, I hope you enjoy it! I have written dreamscape reality once before so I'm super excited to do it again. The other dream story was Raindrops & Roses if anyone wanted to check it out too.

Ships in the Night [pt.1] || Bucky

Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, angst, fluff, nightmares WC: 2.9k

You were still getting used to your apartment at the Avengers compound and you cursed as you tripped over the coffee table in the dark. You should have known that staying up for movie night was a bad idea but you had wanted to mingle with the other agents. There were only a handful of them missing so you finally got to put some faces to the names you had seen on the apartment doors.

The night had dragged on far longer than you had expected and when you were tired your telepathic and empathic powers were difficult to control. Already you could feel residual emotions from the other inhabitants of the building and even beyond. Somewhere out in the carpark a man was crying because his wife had left him and you felt his pain echoing in your chest until he drove away.

The action movie must have been playing on your mind as you settled into your new bed for the night, for when you closed your eyes you were met with the violent clashes of war. Men screamed and gunshots fired as you found yourself in an unfamiliar place, a damp forest that smelt of gunpowder instead of fresh air. To make matters worse, the sky was clouding over and large raindrops were quickly turning the earth to mud.

“This won’t do.” You complained as you began to tramp through the terrain and focused on rewriting the scenery as you went.

Mud filled your boots as you looked to the sky and curled your hand up, grabbing the clouds like balls of cotton candy and dropping them to dissolve in the puddles at your feet.

“We couldn’t have watched Crazy, Stupid, Love could we?” You growled as you shook the mud from your shoe and expelled a lungful of air to dry the ground once again. “This would be much better with Ryan Gosling.”

Gunshots suddenly sounded closer and you scanned the treeline trying to find which direction they were coming from when a flash of green caught your eye. You instinctively ducked as bullets flew over your head, not that it really mattered in the dreamworld, and ran towards a crop of fallen trunks that could hopefully provide cover. You leapt over the top of one log and were met with a pair of stunned and stunning blue eyes before a stray bullet tore through your chest. His eyes widened as he saw you topple over but before you had even hit the ground you woke in your bed.

Of course you would finally find a handsome man and die.

Tossing the blankets back, you carefully snaked your way to the small kitchenette each apartment had and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. You pressed it to your head first, letting the chill chase away the lingering fear of the man with the blue eyes. Like most dreams, by morning you would forget all about them and face another day of strengthening your mental walls.

“Morning sunshine.”

You nodded glumly at Natasha, her perky happiness radiating from her and easily penetrating your shield. You had hoped to have a better sleep when you returned to bed but you weren’t that lucky and now your mood was as dark as the bags that hung under your eyes.

“No one should be this happy, it’s not even 8am.” You complained as she poured you both a cup of coffee.

To make your morning worse, you had opened your cupboard and found your coffee pot empty so you had been forced to use the main kitchen on the ‘social’ floor as it had been dubbed. You couldn’t see yourself spending too much time in there with your powers, being around people and especially ones with trauma left you absorbing it into yourself. If you were lucky that is where it stayed but you had been known on occasion to accidentally release it to anyone in the vicinity.

Nat’s head tilted as you looked at you over her mug, and you laughed as she tried to read you. “You’re not the empath here, Nat.”

“I don’t need to be.” She shot back with a raised eyebrow. “You have all the signs of sleep deprivation. I read your file, do you need more time to settle in? We can put off training until you are better rested. We don’t want to have another incident like the one we-”

“I’m fine.” You said with a bit more bite than you intended to and took a deep breath. “I appreciate the concern but I will be fine, that won’t happen again.”

Her phone pinged and she pulled it from her pocket to see the message. “Well, it’s your lucky day. Barnes and Wilson just got called away so you’ll be training with me instead.”

She was genuinely happy to train you and it made it a bit easier to pull yourself out of the chair and follow her to the gym facility. The first time you had sparred with the Black Widow you had taken a hit to the head that left you dazed and your power had struck her in self preservation. You had seen the trauma of her past and brought it to the surface, accidentally making her relive the memories while you tried to stop it. You were surprised she would let you in the same room with her after everything you had seen.

“Is he really as scary as they say?” You asked as you caught up with her.

“Who? Barnes?” She laughed. “He’s just as grumpy as every other one hundred year old man but he’s not scary.”

“To you, you're the Black Widow.”

“I can still find things scary.”

“Oh yeah, like what?”

She came to a stop and thought for a moment before shrugging. “I’ll think of something.”

You collapsed onto your bed with a groan, the aches of the day reminding you that tomorrow will be even worse. You didn’t even have the energy to close the curtains and the lights of the helipad lit up as a quinjet came in to land. It was too dark outside to see who it was departing the jet but you assumed it was Barnes and Wilson since no one else had left that you knew of. Rolling away from the window, you wriggled under your covers, quickly falling to sleep.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

You squealed as you were grappled around the waist and pulled away from the bullets that rained down on you. Your back was pressed to a tree, the sharp twigs and bark digging into you as the blue eyed man protected you with his own body.

“Why do I keep coming here?” You muttered as you found yourself in the same warzone as last night.

“The hell if I know, doll, but it isn’t safe.” He all but shouted over the gunfire, panic rising in his chest as he head peeked out behind the tree only to duck back in as a shell hit another tree. “I gotta get you outta here.”

“Relax, we can go anywhere you want.” You said as you raised your palm and turned the shrapnel and debris into doves. He watched in wonder as the metal and wood disappeared in a plume of white feathers before taking to the sky. While he was distracted you placed your finger to his temple and saw his home, taking you far away from the place that brought him no comfort.

“Are we in Brooklyn?” He asked as the trees gave way to the empty streets he had grown up in.

“I thought it might help you calm down.”

“How did you do that?”

His hand reached out to touch the bricks of his old school and felt the abrasive clay against his fingers.

“This is a dream. Just change it.” You shrugged.

His eyebrows pinched together and he ran a hand over his slicked back hair. “You say it like that’s easy.”

“Dreams are just the culmination of our emotions forming a reality of their own.” You said turning him around to see the name of his elementary school. “I wanted somewhere that you associated with comfort and we came here.”

In the apartment down the hall from you, Agent Barnes’ thrashing finally stilled. He hadn’t had a single night of peace since he broke from Hydra, guilt and regret tormenting him night and day. Now, he settled into the mattress that no longer felt too soft, something the guilt had always made him feel unworthy of, any comfort really.

You reached out to the brick he had touched and pulled it out of the wall, breaking off the corner like it was a square of chocolate. Holding your hand up to his chest where his dog tags lay resting, you paused. “May I?”

You could see the curiosity in his bright eyes as you lifted the chain and placed the square of brick like a pendant over one of his tags. The metal and brick merged as one and you let it fall back against his chest, his fingers automatically reaching for it as you let go. Although it looked no different when he ran his fingers over he felt the warm brick and not the cold metal.

“Next time you need an escape, just feel for the brick. Your mind will do the rest.” You smiled as you turned away, feeling the stirrings of your body waking up. “I hope you find some peace.”

You almost missed his answer as your eyes began to open but the words slipped through your consciousness. “Me too.”

“Would you look at that, Cyborg nearly smiled.” You heard a man with a teasing tone around the corner.

“Shut up before I break your wings Birdman.” A gruff voice warned, the irritation and self-hate slamming into your shield. “I don’t smile.”

“Sure you don’t. Maybe it was just gas, like with newborns.”

You turned on your heel and decided you would find another exit out of the building, one where there was less anger. You were still clenching your fists at the residual angst when you hit fresh air and you decided Nat would be happier with you taking a 10 minute walk to control your emotions than go straight into training with her like this.

“You’re late.” A familiar voice growled as you pushed the gym door open and found two men waiting, one leaning casually against the wall, the other in a stiff stance with their arms crossed over their chest.

“Where’s Nat, I mean Agent Romanoff?” You swallowed as you forgot the formalities after becoming too familiar with Nat.

“Relax, I’m Sam.” Agent Wilson said before turning to his rigid partner. “Dude, you’re scaring her. The robot is-”

“Agent Barnes, the arm kind of gives it away.” You said with a shy smile.

“Are you here to train or talk?” Agent Barnes said, the usual grumpy tone slightly off as he tried to figure out why you looked familiar, assuming like you did that you had seen each other in passing at the compound.

“I mean, if there’s a choice…” You joked and Sam laughed but Agent Barnes' lips barely twitched. “Train it is.”

After two hours of getting your ass handed to you, they let you leave and you limped out of the gym grateful to be able to breathe something other than the overpowering masculinity of Captain America and the Winter Soldier. As much as it seemed like they hated each other you could see the truth but you kept your mouth shut, not wanting to be the one to tell them they were actually friends. Maybe if they kept making you try to fight without your power then you may resort to it.

“Wow, you look like shit.” Nat teased as she walked into your room with two plates of food.

“I feel like shit.” You groaned as you sat up and made space for her on your bed before inhaling the food after the appetite you had worked up. “My bruises have bruises.”

“It gets easier, trust me.” She said, hanging around for a while before noticing your yawns coming in quick succession. “Rest up, you’re going to need it.”

“Ok, this is getting stupid now.” You huffed as you looked around the forest and found it almost completely silent, no gunshots or explosions. There was only a growing rumble and a chill in the air, the temperature dropping by the second. Twin tracks rolled past you and you realised the sound was a train, quickly making its way along the tracks towards you. Narrowing your eyes at the train, you spotted a silhouette on the roof and slowly he came into focus.

You sprinted head on to the train, the railway sleepers forming steps for you to climb until you could jump onto the roof, landing beside the soldier as you found yourself in some frozen mountain range. “Well, this is a change at least.”

He couldn’t seem to hear you as he stared over the edge of the train and down the cliff face to the icy raveen below. His eyes were reflecting the sky and ice and you felt the panic holding him petrified in place, he couldn’t even move to touch his dog tag. Cursing softly to yourself, you fought against your natural urge to absorb his panic and instead worked to break him from his trance.

“Ok, let's rewrite this bad boy.” You mused as you looked at the train about to head into a tunnel.

Darkness enveloped you both and you pictured the change you wanted to see, feeling your body become harnessed as a speck of light began to grow, the tunnel coming to an end. A scream tore from your lips as you flew into the light and straight into a loop-de-loop. You looked over at the soldier, strapped just like you were into the carriage, hands gripping the harness that kept him from falling out. Your stomach turned as you exited the last loop and you were glad the ride was coming to a stop, the large signs for Coney Island coming into view.

“Are you my guardian angel?”

“I don’t think anyone has called me an angel.” You chuckled.

“They should.” He said with a smile and the ride came to a halt. “I’m Bucky.”

“Y/n.” You accepted his hand as he climbed out the ride first and he slipped it under his elbow to rest on his forearm.

“Let me win you the biggest teddy, it’s the least I can do to thank you for saving me yet again, angel.” He pleaded as he led the way to the carnival stalls. “I’m pretty good at hitting the bullseye.”

His timeless charm was seeping through the longer he went without the return of his nightmare and you found yourself nodding, enjoying the moment of joyous emotions rolling off him. There was a moment where clouds filled the blue sky as he raised the slug gun to his shoulder but with a wave of your hand the rifle turned to a modern nerf gun and he turned to you with a relieved smile as the clouds dissipated.

He pulled the trigger and a flower sprouted from the barrel and you laughed at the fake unamused look he gave you, his lips curling up at the corners before he laughed. Pulling the trigger a dozen more times, he plucked the bouquet from the end of the gun and held them out for you.

“I mean, it’s no giant teddy…” You teased as you took the peonies from his hand.

His hand planted on the bench and he vaulted over the top so that he could knock the bullseye down and grabbed the biggest teddy there was, one that was almost as big as he was. “One giant teddy for the dame.”

“Your honour is only surpassed by your skills of theft.”

His smirk left you unarmed and he grabbed your hand so that he could tow you to the next stall, then the next. You hadn’t laughed so much in your life as you played every arcade game there was. Win or lose, Bucky would get you a prize until you couldn't possibly carry anymore and you were sad you wouldn’t be able to take them with you when you woke up.

“Will I see you tonight, angel?” Bucky asked as he heard his alarm for the first time, never actually having slept long enough to hear it.

“Do you want to?”

“I want nothing more.”

He was already fading away but you hoped your answer made it through the veil before it was too late.

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Killing Time [pt.1]

Bodyguard!James 'Bucky' Barnes x fem!reader

Summary: You are the daughter of an underground kingpin, held prisoner in your own home for your protection and only being allowed out when it suits your father's agenda. Things finally start to change for the better when you get a new bodyguard. Series Warnings: 18+ only, there will be smut, violence, alcohol and illegal activities throughout, individual chapters will have warnings. WC: 2686

This is completely AU, Sam Wilson is your head of security and best friend. Helmut Zemo is unfortunately your husband from a failed alliance your father set up. Bucky is the forbidden love interest.

|| Main Masterlist || Bucky Masterlist ||

Knock, knock. You placed the book you were engrossed in face down on the table beside you. You moved the mug of hot chocolate further away from the novel then stood to open the door. A handsome man in an elegant black suit stood with his hands behind his back. It was hard to tear your eyes away from the intense ice blue ones that stared back at you and you could see him run his eyes over your body, making you feel self conscious.

You hadn't been expecting anyone this evening so you were in comfortably loose sweatpants and a singlet. Nervous beneath his scrutiny you crossed your arms over your chest and stood up a little straighter. You looked down the hall and saw your regular guard standing to the side watching the exchange with a small smile and a nod that it was alright.

"Can I help you with something?" You asked the man.

"My name is James. Your father hired me to be your personal bodyguard." He had a very slight accent but you couldn't place exactly where. You would hazard a guess that he had been living here for many years to have lost most of the lilt.

"As nice as it is to meet you James, I am in no need of a guard. As you can see, this prison has an over abundance of armed men." You started to close the door but his boot blocked it and you raised your eyebrow to him but he still did not remove it. Losing patience, you stomped on the wayward appendage and, when he pulled back in pain, slammed the door closed.

Flopping back down on the over padded chaise you grabbed your phone and fired your father a rather brutal message.

Dad: Unless you plan on letting me leave, I don't need any more guards. Just leave me the fuck alone.

You didn't expect a reply. He never did but you did see the sent change to read, at least he opened the message. You tossed the phone down beside you and gathered the worn book to try and get back into the story.

The thought of the piercing blue eyes distracted you and you couldn't concentrate on the mystery thriller anymore. Slamming it closed, you walked to the bookshelf it came from and slid it back into its rightful place. Picking up the remote next, you pointed it to the gas fireplace and turned it off. The warmth in the library dipped quickly as you tidied up after yourself and turned the lights off before opening the door. You found yourself facing the back of James' suit and luckily for him the man moved to the side before you could ask him.

Padding your way through the quiet mansion, you made your way downstairs to the main living area and kitchen. You grabbed two tumblers and the open bottle of vodka from the freezer drawer. You slid one glass across the marble countertop towards James and he didn't say anything as he lifted the glass to his lips. You watched as he pulled a face as he swallowed the fiery jet fuel.

"So you're not Russian. Where are you from?" You asked as he placed the empty glass back down.

He frowned at your question. "Why can't I be from Russia?"

You laughed as you poured yourself another glass. "They drink vodka like water. You don't. So?"

"Born in Romania but my family moved here when I was 10."

You watched the way the man held himself, his perfect posture. He had to be like most of the men your father employed, ex military. You wondered what the man would be like when he loosened up. He had his dark hair pulled back into a tidy low ponytail but you could imagine how it would frame his face if it was allowed to hang free. You tilted your head as you pictured him more relaxed and knew he would be devastatingly handsome. He already looked good now, just too stiff.

You both turned your heads as the front door opened and James’ hand went to his holster until he saw it was your head of security, Sam. Your father seemed to enjoy torturing you by surrounding you with handsome men, with the notion of a painful death to anyone that touched you. Sam was no exception, he was just as fit as the next guard but he had instantly fallen into the friend zone. You both looked at James, amused.

"If someone made it this far into the property, you are probably already screwed." You laughed at Sam's statement because it was true. The property was fully fenced and patrolled by guards and dogs 24/7. You were fucked of someone made it through all that to get in the house.

You grabbed another glass and refilled all the empties with more vodka. Giving Sam his and carrying the bottle, you walked into the lounge and sat on the large plush suite. You laid your head on Sam's lap and he rested his free arm along your side. He had been head of security for the last 5 years but before that he was your brother's bodyguard. He had also been your brother's best friend and when he died, well, somehow the two of you bonded.

You could see judgement in James’ eyes. To everyone else, it looked like Sam was sleeping with the boss's daughter but you weren't, he was just your best friend. He was there for you at the worst time in your life, your mother and father were too busy dealing with the loss of their son they forgot that you had lost your big brother. Now the two of you looked after each other.

"Have you eaten?" You asked Sam as you rolled to look up at him and he shook his head. He was always so busy making sure you and your family were protected that he didn't take the best care of himself. You stood up, feeling the effects of the alcohol on your empty stomach, and collected the empty glasses, putting them in the dishwasher before prepping some dinner.

You made a large serving of creamy chicken penne pasta since you knew Sam would be hungry but didn't know if James would join so you made sure there was enough. You opened the wine fridge and looked along the shelves for the right pairing, deciding on a Chardonnay. You opened it and set it on the island before grabbing three wine stems and yelled to the men that dinner was ready. Turning around you jumped when you found James was already behind you.

"Jesus Christ, remember to buy him a collared bell." You said quietly to yourself but he must have heard as he smirked. You were right, he would be drop dead gorgeous if you could remove the stiff facade, just the smirk alone was able to send butterflies flapping in your stomach.

"Isn't there staff to cook for you?" He asked curiously and you went to open your mouth but Sam beat you to it.

"Sure, she's just too picky. Everything has to be done her way, right?" You squinted your eyes at your friend and threw a piece of pasta at him but the little shit caught it in his mouth and winked back.

"I am not picky, I just don't see why someone else has to do what I can already do. Like you," you pointed at James, "I don't see why I need a personal bodyguard when I can defend myself and I never leave this prison anyway."

The man shrugged insincerely and took a mouthful instead of rebutting. He was paid to guard you, not argue. Sam spent most of the meal talking to James, since they would be working closest with each other it was probably a good thing they got along. You couldn't help feeling a bit left out and jealous that Sam's attention had been stolen. You knew it wasn't like you were going to lose your best friend but the stupid little voice in your head started whispering anyway. After the meal was finished you cleaned the kitchen and James helped since: quote 'the cook shouldn't clean.' You were used to it but it was nice to have some help.

"Are you working tonight?" Sam asked as he popped back into the kitchen and had his phone covered and you looked at the time, 8pm.

"I haven't checked yet. Why?" You asked him but he had already walked away with the phone back to his ear.

"Where do you work?" James asked as he leant against the marble countertop.

"Here. I never leave, remember. I'm a cyber security analyst, for the most part. On the books, people pay me to test their companies security for weaknesses and off the books, people pay me to hack other companies for information or whatever."

Your father in particular made regular use of your skills but he was still the worst criminal by far. James looked impressed and you had to admit it made you feel a bit prouder about yourself.

"Go change, we are going out."

You looked wide eyed at Sam, sure that you had heard him wrong, you hadn't left the compound in almost 6 months. Joy flooded your system and you ran into his arms laughing before running up the stairs towards your room. You skidded to a halt before turning and running back.

"Uh where are we going? What's the dress code?" You didn't want to make an ass of yourself showing up looking out of place, wherever it was you were going.

"Casino. Classy."

He didn't even look up from his phone as he answered so you went back up the stairs. You had mentally walked through all of your outfits before you even got to your room. You knew exactly what you were going to wear, you just had to find it along the long shelves that were full of outfits. You skimmed your hand along each outfit that was wrapped in a garment bag until you found the one.

You quickly changed out of your sweats and into the cocktail dress that hugged your frame, accentuating all your assets. You still had foundation on from the day so you just added some eyeliner and mascara before grabbing a clutch for your phone, ID and credit cards. Lastly, you slipped on a pair of comfortable heels and you were set to go.

"Ready! Let's go!" You could hardly wait, as you were sure they could see.

You watched as James’ eyes ran over your body and felt a flush follow so you looked down at the stairs you didn’t want to trip on. The entire descent was you fighting the urge to look at him and the time you did you found his eyes still very much fixated on you.

"You look stunning, y/n."

You smiled at Sam and his complement as he offered his hand as opened the front door. At the bottom of the steps was one of your father's drivers, Lincoln. He was ancient and you still didn't know how he had a licence at his age. He had been in the family since before you were born, and possibly before your father was too. Ancient.

You wondered what the ploy was tonight. Sam could have driven you in the Escalade but instead you had Lincoln driving the Rolls Royce. Trying not to let the mystery ruin your night you focused on walking in heels. Sam hopped in the front while James opened the door and offered his hand which you took. You couldn't help but notice how good his hands felt and the warmth that ran up your arm. You felt the absence as soon as he removed his hand and had to consciously stop the pout from appearing on your lips.

It only took 30 minutes to drive from your estate to the casino you were going to. The car came to a stop in front of Circus Circus and Sam hopped out first followed by James. You stayed in your seat, there were a hundred options of casinos so why did they take you  here?

"Get out." You shook your head like a spoiled child but you could see Sam was not finding it amusing. "We need your help so please get out of the car."

You slid out from the seat and closed the door loudly.  "I am not responsible for my actions tonight from here. Got it?"

He nodded to you, accepting that much at least. You held out your hand and he placed a thin ThinkPad in your hand. You quickly found the IP of the CCTV for the casino and used a backdoor command line of code to circulate footage from an hour ago. "We are good to go. Yay." You handed the ThinkPad back to Sam with your sarcasm. "You need to take the suit jackets off if you two want to blend in."

They both removed them and put them back in the car before you reached up to James’ collar and unbuttoned the top two buttons before making your way to the front door. When you got inside you made a beeline to the first bar and ordered three shots of tequila before downing them in quick succession. With your nerves settled you ordered a Long Island to take with you to the tables. You needed to be drunk to face what was coming, Sam and James would have to look after you when it got messy.

You led the way to the high rollers lounge and sat in the middle seat of a 21 table. A stack of chips were placed in front of you and the games began. You’d always had a thing for numbers, they came easily to you and were definitive. There was no interpretation like literature, one plus one equals two. You chose to go take maths a step further and count cards so as the dealer dealt the cards you started a running count. When the favour started to build your way you upped the bets and started winning big.

About 30 minutes into playing you saw the floor manager make his way through the crowd. That was your queue to go and Sam started packing the chips into trays and headed to the cashiers. You, however, kept $50,000 and continued to play until you felt the man take the seat beside you with a scowl on his face.

"I'm going to need you to come upstairs please, ma’am."

You raised your eyebrow at the man and rested your face on your palm. “Now, why would I do that? I am comfortable here, thank you. Zemo is more than welcome to come down here if he wants to talk." You patted his shoulder mockingly and the manager quietly made his way back to the doors to the operations rooms.

"Do you think he will come?" You asked Sam when he came back with a bag of money and you packed up the remaining chips to put them in the bag too before heading to the bar.

"He doesn't have a choice. He owes restitution and he knows what happens if he doesn't pay."

You saw James’ confused look but he didn't pry into what you were talking about as Sam handed you the ThinkPad and you ordered another Long Island iced tea. You logged into the device you had slipped into the manager's pocket and placed your airpod in your ear.

“Sir there is a woman in the high rollers that I'm sure was card counting.”

“And..?” Your lip curled at Zemo’s voice. “Why are you bothering me about it, that’s your job.”

“Well she said if you wanted to talk you should go to her.”

You could picture him already, running to the monitors and looking over the footage so you looked at the closet camera and blew a kiss at it.

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This is perfect!!!

A Touch of Comfort

You’ve always been the touchy-feely sorts with people you’re comfortable around. So when you’re told your touching could be making Bucky uncomfortable, you stop.

But here’s the thing.. Bucky didn’t want you to stop.

Words: 2.6K Author’s Note: This had been requested ages ago and I finally had a little spark of inspiration to write it. Sorry @avada-kedavra-bitch-187​ for making it seem like I ignored you.

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