🥺

Being bilingual/multilingual is being able to fluently switch between languages in between a sentence but not being able to talk properly while using only one language.

How did I not hear about France banning hijabs? What’s going on?

long story short, there’s legislation in the process of being passed that would

ban girls under 18 from wearing any form of religious head covering in public, and although it’s obviously aimed at muslim women, it would also affect other faith groups that practice similar forms of modest dress

ban islamic swimwear in schools and public (there is already a modest swimwear ban in place at public beaches, this just extends it)

ban mothers wearing hijab from entering schools or participating in school field trips or extra curriculars

ban the slaughter of halal poultry - the cheapest and most easily accessible form of meat protein for the muslim community

extend school hijab bans to universities

prevent muslim women from choosing healthcare providers based on gender (which many muslim women prefer to do, since many exams require removal of clothing, etc)

ban muslim parents from homeschooling

force halal markets to sell pork and alcohol or face closure

ban foreign flags at weddings

This is me calling 911 because I might just die after this

oo random bucky thought after listening to an old song 👀 the song is she knows by ne-yo and the lyric that caught me is “daddy, i’ll be back after this song. then you taking me home.” and bucky’s reaction to the reader saying that to him in the club surrounded by their friends is absolutely FERAL and he practically drags her out of the club

Thank you so much for this! I haven't heard this song in so long but I re-listened to it and it took me back to the days when I was pining over Ne-Yo lmao, enjoy xx

She Knows || Bucky

Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, provocative dancing?, smut, unprotected sex WC: 1241

|| main masterlist || bucky masterlist ||

What had started out as girls night was tipped on his head when you spotted Bucky walking in the club. Even drunk, everyone knew to move out of the way and the crowd parted for him and the rest of your friends that had come with him. You tapped Nat’s shoulder to let her know of the new development as she swung her hips to the heavy bass, hands in the air and her eyes closed.

The dance floor had been packed all night and you were currently sandwiched between her and Wanda with Maria, Pepper and Carol heading to the bar for another drink. Natasha’s eyes opened and scanned the room, slower than usual with her intoxication but still better than most. Leaning in closer and wrapping her arms around you her hot breath blew across your neck.

“Oh, your boyfriend’s jealous.” She laughed, gaining Wanda’s attention so she wrapped her arms around you from behind.

“God, I can feel it from here.” She teased as a soft glow emitted from her fingertips as she looked into his mind. “He wants you so bad, oh my, that’s very imaginative.”

“He knows better than to disturb ladies' night.” You said as the music changed, a song that you remembered from last decade. “Ohh I love this song!”

Your lips were moving as you quietly sung along to the song that brought out your inner stripper, hips teasing Bucky from where he watched across the bar. Your hands roamed your body and the girls knew your ploy, quickly joining in your antics as they began to grind along with you. You could feel the attention of most of the bar turning to you but you only had eyes for one person.

"Cause she loves the attention. That she gets when she moves, yeah. Showing out with her home girls. Hypnotising all the dudes, oh."

His eyes broke away from yours, seeing not only his friends stopping to watch the show you were putting on but nearly every guy in the club. His possessive streak had him standing up straighter and he rose to his full height, his eyes almost glowing in laser lights as he watched your hands roaming your body that was barely covered by the material you wore. His lip was almost bleeding as he bit it, watching Wanda and Nat’s hands roam your body when it should have been his.

Your eyes had fluttered shut as you watched him stalk his way to the edge of the dance floor but they opened again and found him blocked only by your girls. You knew Natasha was smirking by the way her grip tightened on your waist and you dared him with your eyes to pull you away from them.

“Daddy, I'll be back after this song. Then you taking me home.”

Bucky’s pupils blew out as your voice caught him by the throat, the emphasis you had as you called him ‘Daddy’. There was no stopping him now and the girls knew it. Nat and Wanda freed you from their hold with a giggle as Bucky’s arm curled around your waist and pulled you into his embrace. The whole club disappeared as his lips claimed yours and his tongue easily won the battle for dominance before he gently bit your bottom lip.

“Say goodnight to your friends, doll, and make it quick.” He purred low in your ear before nipping the skin and making you jerk with surprise.

“G-goodnight.” You stammered as your heart raced in anticipation for what was to come.

“Have fun.” Wanda winked as Nat tried to hold back her laugh. “Be safe.”

You couldn’t hear any other imparting words of wisdom as Bucky’s patience ran out, his fingers lacing with yours before setting a pace that almost left you running to catch up. Your heels made it hard to keep up with him and rather than slow down for you, he turned and grabbed you with his vibranium arm, lifting your feet off the ground.

“Mmmm, daddy’s eager to take me home.” You whispered in his ear, feeling the feral growl vibrate from his chest.

“Not gonna make it that far.” He promised. “Daddy’s gotta have you now.”

Your legs clenched as he called himself daddy and you hadn’t realised it was such a turn on until it happened. The cooler air outside the club sent a shiver down your spine but the orange lights of Bucky’s SUV being unlocked promised shelter from the chilly winds. You squealed as you were tossed in the backseat and Bucky slapped the button on the roof so that the light was abruptly turned off before he climbed in.

You were never more grateful for the blacked out windows than now, but in all honesty you would probably still have let him fuck you if you were in the middle of the dancefloor, you just had to have him. His large hands pulled you over his lap and pushed the material of your dress up over your hips as you worked to open his jeans and pull them just low enough to free his cock that had been hard since he set eyes on you. You were lucky your moisture had been pooling in your panties since he had walked in the club as there was no time for foreplay.

Bucky held your lace panties aside as you lowered yourself down his cock, humming at the sweet stretch of your pussy around him. You reached up and grabbed one of the handles above the door and the other gripped his shoulder, giving you the hold you needed so you could bounce on up and down, riding him in the busy parking lot. Soft mewls felt from your parted lips as he sucked on your neck and massaged your breasts, his touches driving you wild.

“Fuck, I love watching you bouncing on my dick baby.” He murmured as he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth and teased your clit with his thumb. “I just love watching you.”

“That right, daddy? What else do you love?”

“These.” He said as he kissed the swell of your breast. “And these.” He kissed your lips. “And when you do this.” He pressed his thumb hard against your clit and you bucked your hips, pussy clamping down as he threatened to shatter your reality.

“Oh fuck, please Bucky…” You begged him to finish you but you whimpered when his touch left you and he tutted with a shake of his head.

“It’s daddy now, doll.”

His words, his touch, it was all too much and your head dropped to his shoulder, biting the ropes of muscle as you cried out in ecstasy. You orgasm sent him wild like a greyhound hunting a meek rabbit and he held your hips in place as he pistoned his hips up into you, the leather creaking as loud as your wimpers.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum again, daddy.” You keened as tears pricked your eyes, the tightness in your core keeping you frozen in his furious pace.

“Uh fuuuuck.” His deep moan tipped the scale and your legs trembled, pussy pulsating around him as he twitched and moaned through his orgasm. “Shit, doll, that was fucking sexy.”

“Those two are such bad influences.” You giggled as you relaxed in his arms, slowly returning to earth.

“I dunno,” he chuckled, “I think you should have more ladies nights.”

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Oh ! This is exactly what I needed right now 🙃

Enamored [43] - Dancing with the Devil

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback my loves, you’re amazing!❤ I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please let me know what you think, thank you! ❤ And as always, thank you @theskytraveler for helping me with the chapter and the story❤

Summary: Lovers’ quarrels are the renewal of love.

Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, mentions of sex, some gender specific language and terms, arguments.

Word Count: 7500

Series Masterlist

 You couldn’t sleep that night.

It felt nearly impossible. Your thoughts were like a hurricane in your mind, and more than once you had got up from the bed to pace in the room, desperate for some sort of movement as if that could help with just how restless you were.

It didn’t help that you were alone in your bed for the first time after almost a month.

Keep reading

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

Ok ok so.

Spencer x male reader where the reader has been working at the BAU for at least a year, maybe a little while longer. But! He has 2 full sleeve tattoos, and none of the team knows about it. Because he is always wearing suits or shirts that cover them well. (Also he has other tattoos but the focus of this idea was the sleeves.) And the reader is pretty buff in my mind but doesn’t have to be.

One night after a case they go to their local bar(O’Keefs? I could be so wrong). And the reader has gone home and is wearing a t-shirt under a jacket so when he gets to the table where everyone is the team is very 😱😮. And Penelope makes a comment about how attractive the reader is(flirts the way that she flirts with Derek) but later(or then, either) Spencer talks to reader and thinks that he is v-attractive with tattoos, not that he wasn’t before, cue rambling Spencer.

Last minute thought! This could also work with Aaron, so whatever you are feeling.

I just made the bar O'Keefe's because I didn't know either loll Also, sorry it's short, I didn't really know what to write 😅 Edited by @mystic-writes

Gif by @reidgifs

You walk into the bar and sigh, already feeling sweaty and gross. You knew this would happen, you just hoped for a miracle. But it's always hot on O'Keefe's, and even if it wasn't as humid out today as it has been, you still probably would be in the same dilemma as you are in now.

You walk over to the table filled with your co-workers, and you give a tight smile and wave, walking over as you take your jacket off, revealing a very tight white t-shirt.

"Hey guys," you say, sitting down, putting your jacket over the back of your chair.

They all stare at you, open mouthed.

"What?" you ask, trying to play it off, but you are incredibly nervous.

"You didn't tell me you had TATS!" Garcia exclaims, and a couple people glare at her, but you just feel yourself blushing.

"Uh, yeah…" you trail off, rubbing your hands up and down your arms.

"How did we not know this?" Morgan asks.

"He's always wearing long sleeves. Even when it's fuckin' hot outside," Emily says.

You shrug. "I didn't really want to show them off in the field I guess."

"What about at work? You could have shown them there?" Rossi asks.

You shake your head. "Where Strauss could see? She would have a conniption!"

Garcia, Morgan, Rossi, and Prentiss all laugh.

"How much have you spent on your tattoos?" Hotch asks, and you look over at him. He's eyeing your tattoos almost enviously.

You smirk. "I have an artist I go back to every time, and he gives me discounts. I can give you guys his number if you want? Just say you're a friend of [Y/N]."

Everyone clambors for the number except Hotch and Spencer, but you see Hotch inputting it into his phone when the others aren't looking.

Eventually, they all move away, and you're left with Spencer at the table, nursing a beer.

Spencer leans over and says, "Uh, ahem. So… I-I like your tattoos."

You feel yourself begin to blush again. "Really? I would have thought…"

"Thought what?" Spencer asks after you trail off.

You sigh and mutter, "I thought you wouldn't like them. That you'd think I was ruining my body with my tattoos."

Spencer's eyes go wide and he says, "What? No! I-I really like them. They're very beautiful."

He reaches a hand out as if to touch, but pulls away. You hold your arm out for him, and he looks up at you, eyes shining. You nod, and he reaches out, tracing your tattoos underneath his fingertips.

"Go out with me."

Your eyes widen as you blurt this put, and you go to open your mouth to say something, anything, but Spencer cuts you off.

"Yes."

You grin, and grab his hand.

Stating a petition so people stop writing love triangle… why choose when you can go to Paris 🙃

I love having badass readers

I wanna req a badass shield agent reader who gets paired up with bucky post cw but all avengers live together in the compound and at first he is grumpy bec blergh I gotta protect her and argh but then he gets impressed and is SO smitten etc

Changed it up a little and the reader was ex hydra before joining the avengers. I hope you enjoy it xx

Babysitting Bucky

Warnings: 18+ only, violence, killing, gunshot wounds WC: 2.1k

main masterlist || bucky masterlist

“I’m not a fucking babysitter, Steve.”

You could hear the bitterness and hatred that filled Bucky’s voice even through the thick wall of Steve’s office. It didn’t come as a surprise since most people underestimated you but it didn’t mean it hurt any less. You thought being a part of the Avengers would be like one happy family but clearly that was not the case.

“I’m not asking you to be a babysitter.” Steve sighed. “She’s your partner, you back each other up, just like we used to.”

“That was different, I knew you.” Bucky argued.

“Then get to know her, Buck, she’s on your floor so you’re going to cross paths eventually.”

“Not if I can help it.”

The door was torn open and you heard the crunch of the handle breaking the drywall before Bucky filled the doorway, surprise crossing his face for a split second before it returned to scarcely controlled rage. You refused to move from where you stood and he had to turn sideways as he passed you or knock you down, the small decision giving you a slither of hope that he wasn’t always an asshole.

“Sorry you had to hear that.” Steve sighed as he saw you standing there. “And sorry for Bucky, he’s still adjusting to 21st century living.”

“Don’t apologise for other people.” You stated as you walked into his office and took a seat. “Any issue they have is on them.”

“As long as it doesn’t interfere with the mission.”

“It never has.” You reassured him but his eyebrow quirked up at the answer.

“This happen often?”

“With alpha males.” You nodded.

“How do you usually get past it?”

“Prove myself.”

He slid a manila folder across the table and you opened it to find a briefing. You scanned over the document and closed it back up. It was a simple extraction for a scientist who was defecting from a suspected Hydra operation. “When do we start?”

“He’s ready and waiting. I was about to head out but it looks like you and Bucky can handle it together.”

“I don’t need a babysitter.” You said to Bucky after sitting in silence for most of the flight. “I am quite capable of taking care of myself.”

“Yeah, we’ll see.” He muttered unconvinced as he cast his eyes over you. “At least they gave you an easy mission.”

You scoffed and turned back to the front of the jet, turning off autopilot so you had something to do other than listen to his bullshit. “We both know how much Hydra hates to lose their assets, if you think this will be easy then you need a psych assessment pal.”

“Don’t call me pal.” He growled as he unbuckled his belt and rose over you. “And, you don’t know shit about Hydra.”

He disappeared into the lower deck before you could reply and the scars on your chest began to itch at the reminder of what Hydra did to you. You had thought out of everyone at the compound that he would be the most accepting of you given his past but he clearly did not care.

“We are approaching the target.” You called out as you prepped the jet to land.

You could already see that there were more people than just the target in the building, the heat signatures registering on the screen Friday projected. Bucky had rejoined you and was leaning against your headrest as he counted the bodies and pointed to one on the right.

“You take that one and we will meet on the northside after I grab the package.” He said before turning away and filling the vest he wore with an array of knives. “If you can handle him.”

You rolled your eyes at his attitude and looked over the image again so you knew where everyone was and then the jet touched down silently with the reflective shields in place. You already had everything you needed on you so the moment the doors opened you took off towards the building. Bucky was shocked at your speed but he soon caught up, confusion and surprise on his face as you pushed ahead and kicked the door to the warehouse in.

“Keep up old man.” You fired at him before you spotted the first Hydra soldier.

You spun away as he fired his weapon and ducked behind a pillar until you heard the click of an empty chamber. You closed the distance as he tried to reload but he wasn’t quick enough, his screams choked off as you caught him by the throat and smashed him into the concrete floor. Another two soldiers rounded the corner and you picked up their fallen comrade to take the bullets aimed for you and you wondered briefly where Bucky had ended up.

A streak of metal flew past your face and for a second you thought he was aiming at you, your head whipping around to see Bucky throwing a second knife into the remaining soldier. Dropping the body, you growled as you saw his knives buried in their foreheads. “I had them.”

“Sure you did, doll.” He smirked before taking off further into the building. “Stay there.”

You laughed at the audacity and raced to catch up to him, the fight soon becoming a competition. You hit the jackpot when you reached what must have become the soldiers' mess hall as there were four sitting ducks for you to take care of. A bullet grazed your arm and you hissed at the sting before taking extra pleasure in ending him, your fingers crushing his throat until you felt the bones break.

The building was getting quieter, the less soldiers left alive, and you listened closely for the sounds of fighting and followed it to find Bucky. He was going hand to hand with three men but you saw a fourth entering from another door, gun raised for the shot. You didn’t even think, you ran across the room as the man looked down the scope and you heard the bang of the rifle before you felt the bullet hit your chest. Your body crashed back into Bucky and you groaned as pain radiated your chest as he caught you.

“What the fuck did you do that for?” He growled as he held you with one arm and pulled a gun from behind his back, disposing of the last two men.

“Who's the babysitter now?” You chuckled with a groan as blood began to seep over your fingers.

“Friday, I need a medevac.” Bucky ignored you as he spoke into the comms, laying you on the ground, tossing his vest aside and tearing his shirt open to use as a bandage.

“Don’t bother.” You said as you moved your hand for him to put pressure on the wound. “It won’t kill me.”

He looked at the tear in your skin where blood was oozing out, right over your heart. “You should be dead.”

“That would make your day wouldn’t it.” You snorted before whimpering in pain.

He winced at the agony in your tone and he felt guilty for being an asshole to you since you joined. He never liked working with women, not because he thought they couldn’t be agents but because at the end of the day he was raised in a time where men were the providers and protectors, it was something he still clung to.

“I don’t want you dead, y/n. I didn’t want you out here getting hurt.” He admitted as he held the material over your wound. “How?”

“You didn’t read my file did you.” He shook his head ruefully and you tapped your knuckles against your chest, hearing the hard thud of the metal that had been laid beneath your skin. “I was Hydra’s human shield, gold titanium alloy. You didn’t think you were the first to escape their control?”

The bleeding was already slowing down as the serum they had given you sped up the healing process and you brushed aside his hand so he could see the skin knitting itself back together. In a few days it would be a scar just the rest that littered your chest as you took the body shots meant for other people.

Bucky’s eyebrows were furrowed and deep lines set in his forehead as he saw just how many bullets you had taken, he felt terrible for being the reason another one marred your beautiful skin. He also knew that the shot would have certainly killed him, the calibre of the bullet more than the thin vest he wore could have stopped. Helping you to your feet, he wrapped his arm around your waist and took your weight. “Thanks, doll. I owe you one.”

“Anytime.” You said with a small smile, glad that the machismo had eased and something had shifted. “So do you trust me?”

He gave a small nod that sent your smile widening. “I’m not about to give you my bank account number but there’s not many people who would take a bullet for me.”

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t recommend it. Just because it won’t kill me doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt like a bitch.” You chuckled and stopped as a man came out of hiding with a gun to the package's head.

“Don’t move or I will kill him.” The soldier threatened as he dug the gun further into the scientist's head until he cried out with pain. “Don’t fucking move.”

“Do you want the honours or can I?” You asked under your breath, knowing his enhanced hearing was superior to yours.

The question would have been surely cut down even five minutes ago but now you saw the corner of his lips tip up. “All yours, doll.”

Your fingers were already hanging at your side and it was simple to reach the handle of the kunai, sliding it out of its sheath before you flicked your wrist faster than he could see. The dagger hurtled through the air but before the man could react and pull the trigger, the knife sliced through his finger and wedged between the trigger and the gun so it couldn’t be squeezed.

“Any other surprises I should know about?” Bucky asked as you both walked over to the soldier still trying to shoot his gun.

You kicked it far from his reach and checked the scientist was physically alright before you winked at your partner. “You should’ve read the file, Barnes.”

“I’m sure there’s something that's not in it.” He countered, grabbing the soldier and using his own cuffs to restrain him to a pillar for the authorities to deal with. “Give me something.”

“Chocolate, roses and red wine.”

“Yeah?” He smirked to himself. “Okay.”

“What’s the basket for?” Steve asked as he stepped out onto your floor and saw it sitting in the middle of the kitchen island.

“I dunno, it was there when I woke up.” You shrugged as you continued to eat your breakfast and Steve wandered over to look at the tag hanging from the bow.

“It’s for you.” He said with a tight lipped smile and you frowned as you placed your bowl in the sink and took a look for yourself.

Sure enough, your name was written but it had no name under the sender so you tugged on the bow and let the wrapping fall away. You knew exactly who it was from when you found the inside of the basket full of boutique chocolates and a few small bottles of various red wines. Steve was completely thrown as he watched your smile grow as you picked up the card inside, I didn’t forget. The elevator opened again and you both turned to find Bucky stepping out, a huge bouquet of roses and the look of someone caught red handed.

“Steve, uh, what are you doing here?” Bucky froze, the doors starting to close on him before he jumped out of the way.

“I was looking for you, but I’ll come back later.” He said as he tried to hide his smile and walked past Bucky with a pat on the shoulder and whisper of encouragement.

“This is a 180 compared to yesterday morning.” You teased as you pulled out a chocolate and popped it in your mouth.

“I have a lot to apologise for.” He said as he held out the roses, the floral scent sweetening the room. “I was a bit of an asshole.”

“That’s a bit of an understatement.” You laughed as you took them from his hand, touching the soft petals with your nose. “But this is a very good start.”

He looked at your chest, the wound almost completely healed but bruising still spread across your skin. “How about dinner?”

“And a movie.” You bartered.

“It’s a date.”

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Heeey i wanted to ask you if you could maybe do a Muslim male reader where maybe like they are on a case and hitch tells him to go talk with the victims family and they are like we are not gonna talk to a ter**orist and like the BAU team defending him and like comforting him (if you don’t feel comfortable writing about it don’t feel pressured please)

I am so sorry if this isn't good. I tried to make it as fluffy as possible. Please let me know if I did something wrong! Edited by @mystic-writes

"Mr. And Mrs. Hawthorne?" you ask as the door opens in front of you.

"Who're you?" Mr. Hawthorne asks, glaring at you.

You take out your badge and say, "My name is Agent [L/N]. I'm with the FBI. I'm here to ask you a few questions."

"The FBI is hiring terrorists now?" he asks and you freeze. "I don't want you here to blow up my house!"

He slams the door in your face, and you sigh. You pull out your phone and call Hotch, and after two rings he picks up.

"[L/N]," he says over the phone. "What did you find out?"

"They won't let me talk to them. Says I'm a terrorist and I'm going to blow up their house. Can you send Rossi over? Maybe he can help?" you ask and you hear a sigh on the other end of the line.

"Yeah. Sure. I'll send Prentiss as well," he says, and you nod though he can't see you. "Do you want to come back to the station?"

You shake your head. "No, I'm fine. It would just be nice to have some backup," you say, before saying goodbye to Hotch, and hanging up. You lean against the car you were given, a big black SUV, and you cross your arms over your chest, watching the house. After five minutes you see Mrs. Hawthorne peeking out the window every couple of seconds, staring right at you before hiding again, like she just got caught.

Finally, after only a couple more minutes, another black SUV pulls up and Rossi and Emily get out, walking over to you.

"We heard what happened," Rossi says, and Emily nods, walking over to you.

"Are you sure you want to be here?" she asks, and you nod.

"Yeah, I'm fine. You should just take the lead," you say, and Emily and Rossi both nod, and start walking towards the house.

–

"Hello, Mr. Hawthorne. It's good to see you again," you say as you sit down in front of him, placing a file on the metal table in the interrogation room.

"You can't hold me! I know my rights!" he yells, pulling against the handcuffs holding him to the table.

You shake your head. "You assaulted a federal officer and threatened to shoot me. You're already going to jail for who knows how long, so how about you tell me what I want and we can make a deal."

"I won't negotiate with terrorists!" he exclaims, jumping towards you, but the handcuffs keep him latched to the table.

You jump out of your seat and run out of the room, your breath coming in short gasps as you say, "I'm sorry. I can't do this."

You sit down on one of the chairs outside the interrogation room and put your head in your hands, hyperventilating, when you feel hands on your shoulders.

"Breathe. I need you to breathe for me," you hear JJ say.

You start taking deep breaths in when you feel more hands on you. Looking up, you see Spencer sitting next to you on the other side and you lean into him, breathing deeply as JJ rubs her hand up and down your back.

You see Emily and Rossi walk up, the former with a cup of something and the latter with a plastic bag of crackers, and Derek trailing behind, a sheepish smile on his face. You smile as your breathing starts to even and you reach out, taking what seems to be water from Emily and the crackers form Rossi, downing the cup in three gulps and stuffing a cracker into your mouth. You sigh through your nose as you chew, and watch as Hotch walks over, kneeling down in front of you.

"Are you okay?" he asks and you nod. "I had some words with Mr. Hawthorne. He has now assaulted two Federal Agents, which doesn't look good for him." You frown and Hotch rolls up his pant leg, revealing a bright red splotch on his shin that's probably going to turn into a bruise tomorrow. "Even if he isn't the unsub, we've been able to unearth some… disgusting things from this man's past, with help from Garcia."

You nod and smile, taking his hand as you swallow your cracker. "Thank you, Hotch," you say, before looking at all the faces around you, affectionately. "Thank you, all of you. I really appreciate it."

They all nod.

"Now, I would like to get back to this case and catch this bastard," you say and they all grin. "Also, it's not Mr. Hawthorne."

"How do you know?" Derek asks, massaging his knuckles. He probably punched Mr. Hawthorne and you're not sorry about that.

You smile. "Mr. Hawthorne is a racist, white supremacist. He would never kill white people."

They all nod, and JJ helps you up, and you all get back to work.