new dollar bill

Bucky Barnes Imagine; Naughty Therapist.

This has a little more naughtiness than I imagined, oh well. Enjoy! 

Let me know if you’d like to see a little smut! 

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Steamy Makeout.

Word Count: I truly have no idea.

Request: Hello! A Bucky request where reader is his psychologist working for the avengers and plus she is his girlfriend but nobody knows about it since they can fire her of it. Somehow Steve and Tony finds about it and doesn’t tells anyone.

You have been called to a meeting with Fury, you walked in your black heels towards the meeting room, looking out the window, watching how the clouds floated on the air before knocking on the door. 

“Come in.” Fury’s voice said from inside, you opened the door, revealing Fury sitting down on the head of the table, his eyes on his laptop. 

You went inside, walking towards him as you stood aside of the table. “You called?” 

He nodded, closing his laptop before settling his eyes on you. “Please, take a seat Y/n.” he said, you sat down on the chair next to him, placing your hands on your lap as you fidgeted. “As you know, the Avengers are currently dealing with a lot of things, they’re becoming more and more stressed. I thought why not assign you to them? You know for a few weeks to see how you do and if you like it you can settle down as their personal therapist.” he commented, his gaze fixed on you. 

Keep reading


Tae x Jungkook x Reader
SMUT Vampire AU
Warning: Blood, Rough Sex, Pain, Swearing, Dirty Talk…
1900 Words

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 3 (No Vkook) | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 |
Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 |

Walking up a dark, cold alleyway in the middle of the night in a part of the city that I did not know began to seem like a very bad idea, a very bad idea indeed. Bleak, dim lighting on the high poles above my head were he only sources of illumination and they did little to reveal all the puddles of water and pot holes present on the ground that I kept stumbling into. I was told to wear nice ‘sexy’ clothes for this. Why was I told to dress provocatively if I was only donating blood and plasma to a private company? Why had I trusted my friend when she told me all about this amazing opportunity to get a lot of money and enjoy doing it as well? She was the type of friend who always got herself into trouble but I was desperate; student loans, rent, car insurance, food, it was all really starting to pile up and I needed some fast cash. The only thing that kept me from turning on my heels and backing out was the fact that Jazmin was beside me and clearly not worried at all, in fact, she seemed excited, desperate even, to reach our destination, the complete opposite to the nervous bubble growing in the pit of my stomach.


“UGH! Why does everything have to be so expensive!” I said in exasperation, flopping down onto the scattered notes and homework that shared the expanse of my bed. Jazmin sat at the small vanity that sat under the window on the side of my bedroom wall, bathed in the uncharacteristically bright February sunlight that filtered through my open blinds. I’m not sure if it was the flattering light or if she had somehow managed to become prettier in the last few months, but her medium brown hair seemed to shine and glitter with honey colored highlights and her skin glowed with a dewy radiance.

“AH! Speaking of expensive, here’s all that money I owe you..” she reached into her purse and grabbed her wallet, snapping it open and rifling through the many bills that were stuffed into it before handing me two new, crispy hundred dollar bills. I reached for the money, confused and disbelieving that she was paying me back after all this time. I had already resigned myself to not ever seeing that money ever again. I narrowed my eyes at her, suspicious.

“Is this real? How did you get this?” she just smiled and dismissed my suspicions with a wave of her hand.

“Don’t worry, it’s completely real and I didn’t have to walk the streets to get it either. I just found a new… investment, and it pays really well.” I didn’t like her pause and nonchalant tone she was speaking with, I could tell she was hiding the truth, or at least part of it.

“Yes, I can see. How much did that new purse cost you, it looks expensive, what brand is that? Kate Spade?” I said in a sarcastic tone.

“Well fine, if you’re gonna be that way then I won’t let you in on it…” she teased.

“Im sorry, keep going.”

 My attitude completely changed at the prospect of making as much money as she clearly had recently. She laughed at my sudden change in demeanor and began to explain.

You… directly donate blood to specific individuals who are… in need, sort of like a transfusion, through a private company. Their clients and the company are very private and secretive, they highly value your discretion and expect you to keep all knowledge that you may learn to yourself. That’s one of the reasons why they pay so much. You must sign a contract as well. They offer one time donation contracts and also 1 year contracts. A onetime donation pays 1000 dollars and a year contract will pay you up to 5000 dollars depending on how many times a year you donate. They also include healthcare in their contracts and, let’s just say, some people form a relationships with their Donee. I’ve been donating for a few months now to the same person. The thing is, their method of donating is a bit unorthodox, and it may freak you out at first but, trust me, you’ll be safe the whole time. Since I’m under a… contract, I can’t actually tell you how they donate but you’ll find out soon…

After she explained and convinced me that nothing was illegal or dangerous, I reluctantly agreed to try donating, she called someone and a few minutes later, I was added to the list of donors for tonight’s session that she was attending. She then spent the rest of the day prepping us both for tonight; showering, shaving, plucking, exfoliating, conditioning, the whole nine yards. She did my hair and makeup and put together as sexy of an outfit that I’d allow, answering all my protests with,

“Trust me, you’ll want to look good for whomever you get as a Donee. Absolutely every client there looks like they just stepped out of a movie, they’re so attractive.”

I had to admit, I looked pretty good, less like a tired college student and more like an extra from the movie Underworld. My hair was half pinned up and the rest floated around my bare shoulders in soft wavy curls. My eye makeup was minimal but accentuated the shape with a slightly darker color in the crease, elongated, winged eyeliner, and lots of mascara. My foundation had a light, radiant finish and Jazmin had sculpted my face slightly with contour and highlight. She had finished me with a red toned berry liquid lip stain and very shiny clear gloss that made me look like I had just bit into a fresh pomegranate.

My outfit was comprised of a tight, black corset that I had used for a Halloween costume one year, black leather pants that I bought but never wore, and black high-heeled leather ankle boots. I looked at myself in the mirror and couldn’t help feel a bit like a piece of meat on display. Skintight everything and bare shoulders and clavicle exposed. I shivered from the slight cold that seeped in through the walls and grabbed a long black cardigan that had silver accents and faux fur trim on the neckline and slipped it on, wrapping it around my form despite Jazmin’s protests. My dark ensemble was the complete opposite to her baby pink dress and white kitten heels.

“I like wearing black so I’m not complaining, but why am I so dark and you’re so… pink?” I asked.

“Well, Jin likes pink, and I like Jin…” she trailed off, a devilish grin on her pink sparkly lips. “Jin is the one that I donate to exclusively now.”

“You make it sound like it’s a sexual experience.” I said, warily. She turned to me and carefully chose her next words.

“(Y/N), I’m not gonna lie, Jin and I do have sex. The donation process is very… intimate, I mean, you’re giving someone your life source to help them right? You get to know them and it creates a bond. Who knows, you might get some tonight too, if you want.”

“Uh, NO, I do NOT want that!” I exclaimed.

“Okay, okay, just tell them that, it’s not a big deal, they won’t force you.” She laughed as we left my apartment, finally making our way to our destination as the sun began to set slowly on the horizon, mixing colors of burnt orange, purple, and blood red into the rapidly fading blue.

To say that I was nervous and skeptical was definitely and understatement. What did she mean by unorthodox? Why did it seem like they were hiding their private business from people? Question filled my mind as I tightened my Heavy coat around my middle and we walked up to an unassuming door that held a small square mirror at face level. No, not a mirror, two way glass. Jazmin pressed a button on a voice-box attached to the side of the building and spoke into it.


“Hi, this is Jazmin, and this is (Y/F/L/N). She should be on the list with me as a new donor.”

She released the button and a second passed before a buzz sounded and the door clicked open, a handsome gentleman held the door open for us to pass through. I curiously glanced at him as we passed. He was tall and had white, fluffy hair, a cut in one eyebrow and silver hoops in in the ear on the same side. I couldn’t see his eyes since they were covered with a pair of shiny, black, square cut sunglasses even though it was nighttime. His black suit gave him a slight Men In Black feel and I couldn’t help but crack a small smile at the image in my head. However, my smile faded when he returned one and I swear I saw a flash of very sharp looking canines before his face returned to its neutral state. Jazmin’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts and I turned to her as she spoke to me.

“I’ll take you to Seulgi’s office so you can get your paperwork out of the way. She’ll explain what I’m not allowed to and you’ll sign a confidentiality agreement and a contract with her and then they’ll match you with a Donee. It should all go by pretty fast if you cooperate and don’t freak out.”

I had been too busy studying the hall we walked down to notice her choice of words at first. It was definitely luxurious, marble flooring, with clean white walls and black accents. The ceiling held ornate crystal chandeliers every 20 feet or so that sent sparkling reflections on the walls. The wide hallway echoed slightly and brought Jazmin’s final words back to me.

“…don’t freak out…”

My feet stopped following her as I said,

“What do you mean ‘freak out’? Why would I freak out!? Jazmin, tell me what’s going on!”

The panic in my voice was doubled by the echoing walls and I’m sure anyone behind the many doors lining the hall could hear me.

“(Y/N), calm down. It’s okay, shh.”

She held my hand and tried to comfort me in a soothing voice. The scene reminded me of how a child tries to call to a cat in a comforting tone right before they capture it. I was the cat in this situation. Before Jazmin could continue, a door to my right opened and out stepped a very pretty girl with dark hair and monolid eyes. Something about the way she stared straight into my eyes without any shame both terrified and entranced me and I found that I wasn’t breathing. She spoke and it felt like her voice was warm honey seeping into my skin and making my limbs heavy and languid.

“Hello (Y/N), you’re here to donate your blood for people who can’t survive without it, for Vampyres.”

As her last words left her mouth, her face split into a calculating smile, showing her teeth as she did so as her canines dropped down and elongated into sharp, white points.

Some even believe we are part of a secret cabal working against the best interests of the United States, characterizing my family and me as ‘internationalists’ and of conspiring with others around the world to build a more integrated global political and economic structure-one world, if you will. If that’s the charge, I stand guilty, and I am proud of it. We are on the verge of a global transformation. All we need is the right major crisis, and the nations will accept the New World Order.
—  David Rockefeller

Hayley A Silverman
Crude Currencies Singular (the real price of everything/what everything really costs/ to whom wants to acquire it/ the toil and trouble of acquiring it/ what everything is really worth/ to whom has acquired it/ and wants to dispose of it/ or exchange it/ for something else/ the toil and trouble which it can save/ which it can impose upon other people), 2015
Coin currencies (Chinese, Greek, Swedish, Canadian, Israeli, Russian,…), energy currencies (lumps of metal, rice, spices, bee pollen, berries), resin
each 3 17/20 × 3 17/20 inches

what amortentia smells like to the zodiac signs
  • aries: freshly cut grass, sandalwood, pine trees
  • taurus: baking bread, clean linens, rose petals
  • gemini: wood fire, wet ink, spices
  • cancer: wool blankets, hot cocoa, apples
  • leo: sunscreen, pancakes upon waking, bright clean mornings
  • virgo: old books, sweet cloves, rain
  • libra: vanilla, chocolate, forest air
  • scorpio: new dollar bills, sun-warmed rocks, expensive cologne
  • sagittarius: daffodils, espresso, artificial watermelon
  • capricorn: turned earth, new pencils, strong tea
  • aquarius: new paper, cinnamon, maple syrup
  • pisces: black coffee, hair dye, popcorn
abstract things that remind me of each type

ENFP: kaleidoscopes, sun showers, an unexpected crack of thunder, hummingbirds, fields of wild flowers, laughing until you cry, singing in the shower, crossroads

ENFJ: jingle bells, sun beams peaking through the clouds on a gloomy day, cherry blossoms, cocktail parties, a hug after years of separation, when the clock strikes twelve on new years eve, good conversation with unlikely strangers

ENTP: the noise of a keyboard, grass stains on blue jeans, bruises with unknown origins, abandoned buildings overgrown with vines, a cracked but intact mirror, messages in the sand washed away by the incoming tide

ENTJ: the clicking of a pen, blue prints, piggy banks that counts the change as you put it in, a new dollar bill, the noise heels make on a tile floor, Kubrick stares, the ticking of a clock

ESTJ: icicles, cobblestone streets, smudged ink on a freshly printed paper, encyclopedias, maps of the old world, sand storms, waking up feeling fully rested, owls, complex algebra equations

ESFJ: the smell of freshly mowed grass, sun flowers, daisies, ducklings following their mother across a street, a lioness grooming her cubs, nursery rhymes, xylophones, the shade under a large tree on a hot sunny day

ESTP: the roar of a crowd at a sporting event, midnight drives to the beach, contagious laughter, jumping from a diving board, a cup of coffee to sober you up, the last drag of a cigarette

ESFP: carnivals, firework shows, standing up in a limo with a sunroof while driving through a city at night, opening a bottle of champagne, freckles, making wishes on dandelions, blowing out birthday candles

INFP: wind chimes, dream catchers, shooting stars, a baby giggling, throwing the bouquet at a wedding, diaries that require a key to open, heart shaped lockets with photos of loved ones, the crunch of autumn leaves as you walk home

ISFP: bullet proof vests, skipping stones on a still pond, gold fish, cat naps, teddy bears, overalls, mistletoe, pinky promises, postcards, stepping in puddles, avoiding cracks in the pavement

INTP: a shot of tequila, shell casings hitting the ground, debates, a gabble, the scales of justice, rain after a drought, horse races, having twenty tabs open at once on your browser

INFJ: zen gardens, Hershey’s kisses, family dinners, burnt toast, moss on old stone walls, dream journals, long distance phone calls, embroidered pillows, warm clothes right out of the dryer

INTJ: knowing not only your lines but everyones for a play you have a minor part in, personal schedules, chess games in the park, black and white movies, snow forts, holding your breath underwater as long as you can

ISFJ: friendship bracelets, a date at the drive-in theatre, cloud watching, swinging in sync with the person next to you, late night subway rides, running through cornfields

ISTJ: chalk on a black board, the smell of sharpies, long solitary runs, alarm clocks, neatly hung clothes, the sound of the ocean in a conch shell, a bee dancing around a beautiful flower, a cat purring

ISTP: screaming into a pillow, rosy cheeks after a stroll in the cold, when you touch a tree and are left with sap on your finger tips and palm, acoustic guitar, cannonballing into an empty pool

The Walking Dead  (Tony Stark x reader)

Request from @time-lords-in-the-impala

Hi sorry could you do one where the reader is the “mother hen” of the avengers (reader has powers) and Tony is sick and she tries to take care of him but he’s all stubborn and says stuff like “I’m fiinee I’m not sick I need to work Y/N” and after a heated argument Tony confesses his love and she’s like “k but get better and you’ll get your kiss” and Clint gives Nat $20 because “Oh shit I thought she would make the first move” Sorry it’s so long I love your writing thank you 🙏 bye              

Hope it turned out okay, love!!  

“What the hell is that? It sounds like someone’s choking a seal.”

“We think Stark may be dying,” Clint snickered,  “We’re not sure yet, but there’ve been unnatural sounds coming out of that lab all day.”  

You peeked your head out the kitchen to look towards the lab, but the room was darkened so that you could just barely make out Tony’s silhouette hunched over the table.  “Has anyone gone up there to check on him?”

“Be our guest,” he said, throwing a box of Kleenex at you as you exited.  “but if you let loose whatever bug is incubating in there, and the dead start walking the Earth, I’m using you as a shield.”  

“Your empathy is truly inspiring, Barton.”


“Tony?”  You waited a few seconds, but there was no reply. “Tony?  I know you’re in there.  Can I come in?”

A loud and harsh cough echoed through the room on the other side of the door, followed by the sound of feet being dragged towards you.  The door opened slightly so that Tony could see you, but not so much that you could enter.

“What, (Y/N)?”

“Are you okay?  You sound terrible, and I’m a little worried.”

He coughed a few more times and turned to shut the door, but you pushed your foot in front of it to stop him.  “Hey, I’m fine, alright?  Now take your foot off the door so I can get back to work.”

You reached up and put your hand on his forehead, shaking your head in frustration at what you felt. “Tony, seriously, you have a fever. You should be in bed, resting. What is so important that it can’t wait a couple of days?”

“It’s a revision of…I’m altering…” he shook his head and rubbed his cheek, irritated at being sick and even more so that you weren’t listening.  “I’m thinking it’s not your concern.”  He coughed again, but this time it was harsh enough to make him struggle to catch his breath.

“Alright, sit down, dammit.” You pushed him back into a nearby chair and put the palm of your hand against the center of his chest.  You could feel his lungs expanding and contracting with each breath beneath your hand, his effort easing and his cough subsiding as you concentrated your healing powers on him.

“I didn’t ask you to do that.”

You pulled your hand back and stared at him skeptically; was he really going to be too proud to accept help? Or was it just stubbornness, or more likely, overblown ego?  “I know you didn’t ask, Tony.  But we can’t listen to you like that anymore.  If you can’t take care of yourself, then I’m happy to step in.”

“Tell you what,” he continued, “next time wait until I ask.  Now let me get back to work, alright mom?”

Your head snapped in his direction, and your posture stiffened, “excuse me?”

“I said,” he stepped up toe-to toe with you, puffing his chest with attitude, “alright, mom?”  

Your eyes narrowed as you stared at him, disbelieving that he was having such a temper tantrum over this. If anything, you had made it easier for him to work now, but it would be impossible to get a thank you from him with all of this attitude oozing out of him.

“You’re such an asshole, Stark.”  You turned on your heel and walked away, but you felt his eyes follow you until you were out of sight.  He sighed and threw the tool he had been holding across the room, shattering a table full of equipment in his anger.  

“Sir, how might I be of assistance?”

“JARVIS, I think…I think maybe we should shut it down for the night.”


The next morning you wanted nothing to do with Tony, and did your best to avoid him, even heading to the kitchen late for breakfast, hoping he would have himself locked away in the lab. You were trying to give him the benefit of the doubt that his rotten attitude was because he was sick, so it was probably best to let him be.

“Morning, (Y/N), you’re a little late today, aren’t you?”

“Hey, Cap,” you said with a small yawn, “yeah, trying to avoid any early morning conflicts, if you know what I mean.”

Steve handed you a cup of orange juice and you returned the gesture with a look of curiosity.  “Are we out of coffee again?”  This was not the best day to miss out on your shot of caffeine.  “Wait, was it my turn…yep, it was my turn to pick that up.  Sorry, I’ll run out and get extra to make up for it.”  You pulled the refrigerator open and grabbed a can of Coke, taking it down within a matter of minutes.

“Desperate?”  Steve said with a laugh as he leaned against the counter, watching you.

“I didn’t sleep well last night, so yeah.  Just a bit.” You tossed the empty can to him, giggling as he caught it and crushed it with an exuberant flair of unnecessary strength.

“Morning, kids.”

The jovial moment was quickly over when Tony entered the room, your demeanor changing to guarded with lightening speed.  “Stark.”

Steve looked at you, mouthing silently to you, “I’m gonna go” and pointing towards the exit.  You shook your head to try to stop him, but he obviously wanted to get out of the situation as fast as possible. “Chicken,” you mumbled under your breath.

“You look like hell, Tony. I know it’s none of my business, but just saying.  Don’t get us sick.”  You grabbed another can of soda and were about to leave when he finally replied.

“I’m sorry about yesterday. I’m sorry I called you mom.”  He cleared his throat a bit, his voice quiet and refusing to look at you.  “You’re right, I’m an asshole.”

You were still mad, and you didn’t want to let him off the hook that easily.  His bad behavior needed to be called out, and you felt a personal responsibility to be the one to do it.  You were playing with fire, but you didn’t realize how hot it was going to get.  “I accept your apology, Tony, but you do this all the time.  You fly off the handle then ask for forgiveness later.  It’s exhausting.”

“But it’s because-“

“Don’t give me the excuse that you’re sick.”  You raised your hand to stop him, “people get sick all the time and it doesn’t excuse bad behavior.”

“If you’d shut up for just a damn minute, I would be able to explain it to you.”  He finally turned to look at you, and his face was becoming more red with each word.

You slammed your soda can on the counter and marched over to him, poking his arm roughly with each word. “If I would shut up for a minute?  You seem to have underestimated me, Tony.  Don’t mistake my tendency to care about you…about this team, as a weakness.” You grabbed his wrist and twisted his arm behind his back, spinning him to push him face first into the wall. “And don’t ever, ever, talk to me like that.”

“Hot,” he mumbled, breaking your grip on his wrist and spinning you to take his place against the wall, facing him as he held your arm securely behind you.  “Like I was saying, (Y/N), if you would let me finish, I would have told you that I’m a mess.  Not because I was sick, but because I’ve fallen in love with you and I don’t know what to do about it.”

“Oh,” you sighed, completely taken aback.

“Yeah, oh,” he said breathlessly, reacting to the close proximity to you.  “Is there anything else you’d like to say before I continue?”

“Continue?  Continue with wha-“  Your words were interrupted by his kiss, still holding you tightly against the wall with an almost crushing force.  The moment was interrupted by the sound of a slap and the clearing of a throat.

Clint and Natasha were standing in the doorway, Nat holding a crisp, new twenty-dollar bill. “Dammit, (Y/N), I thought you’d break first,” Clint scoffed.  “Guess we’re all learning to not underestimate you today.”


April 15th 1865: Abraham Lincoln dies

On this day in 1865, after being shot the previous day, U.S. President Abraham Lincoln died aged 56. Lincoln’s election in 1860 on an antislavery platform prompted the Southern slaveholding states to secede from the Union. The new President led the Union during the subsequent American Civil War, and furthered the abolition of slavery by issuing his Emancipation Proclamation and encouraging the passage of the Thirteenth Amendment. Almost a week after the Confederacy’s surrender to Union forces at Appomattox, Confederate sympathiser John Wilkes Booth shot the President while he was attending a performance of ‘Our American Cousin’ at Ford’s Theatre in Washington D.C. Booth shot Lincoln in the head at point blank range, and the injured President was immediately taken across the street to Petersen House. However, the wound was clearly fatal and after a nine hour coma, Lincoln died at 7.22am on April 15th. When he was shot, the President was carrying in his pockets a pocket knife, a watch fob, a handkerchief, a wallet, spectacles, newspaper clippings, and, interestingly a new Confederate five-dollar bill; Lincoln’s face now appears on the five-dollar bill. Upon Lincoln’s death, Vice President Andrew Johnson was swiftly sworn in as seventeenth President of the United States. Booth was soon tracked down and killed, while Lincoln was widely mourned in the North as the steadfast leader who had seen the nation through its bloodiest war. The nation’s sadness was coupled with shock in the wake of the first presidential assassination; three of Lincoln’s successors would meet the same fate.

“Now he belongs to the ages.”
- Secretary of War Edwin Stanton after Lincoln’s death

Kiss Kiss Fall in


by insominiacarrest, @lapidot-week-2016

prompt: free day for lapidot week

genre: humor, crossover

summary: an incredibly silly idea of a Steven Universe Ouran High school Host club cross over. So here it is. Lapis is a poor scholarship student who breaks an expensive vase for a host club and has heck to pay.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

It's that time of the... time, again! In walks the Empress of the East Court herself, Memento Mori looking crisper than a new twenty dollar bill, and fly as hell in that dark green suit of hers. "It's good to see that you're back where you belong, Mr. Book." She approaches the counter with that biiiig grin of hers. "Welcome back."

William, looking pale, drawn, and with huge bags beneath his eyes, eyes Memento as she sweeps in.  “Good afternoon, your excellency.  Did you place an order for pickup while I was… indisposed?  I don’t recall seeing anything.”

Biting Down: Part 2

Author: ageekchiclife

Characters: Dean x reader, Sam x reader (platonic)

Warnings: Slight angst, mention of parents who passed away

Word Count: 4,202 Wayyyy longer than I expected! Don’t expect them all to be this long, lol.

Author’s Note: Sooooo this part has been saved in my drafts since January. I truly hope you all enjoy it. I would love any feedback you all have. I think there will definitely be some light smut or at least more fluff in Part 3. We’ll see how the story unfolds.

Also, this has definitely turned into more of a story than something where Dean and the reader are getting to the good stuff right away. Inspiration took over and I really liked the idea of the reader truly being apart of the team. I created my own case and even researched a new monster… which was awesome because I didn’t even know this monster existed. I hope you can bear with me, I promise some sexy stuff will come soon. I always enjoy reading x reader series that have more of a plot to them. I will try to work some one shots into the mix too, but Biting Down will definitely be a multi-part story. 


P.S. Definitely read part one before you read this, it’s much shorter, but it does help to add a little back story.

Biting Down: Part 1

“Breakfast is ready! Come and get it!” Dean hollered from the kitchen.
You made your way down the hall from your room taking your time on your still tender ankles. “Morning!” you said with a smile as you entered. You were trying to sound more chipper than you felt. You didn’t want to be ordered back to bed rest by Nurse Dean.

You slapped a crisp new hundred dollar bill down on the kitchen table and sat down to the pancakes Dean had placed in front of you just seconds before. You winced at the dull ache in your body. You were still healing, but you refused to lay in bed forever. Dean had already forced you to do so for a week and a half. As a hunter you weren’t used to so much idleness.

“What’s that for?” Dean mumbled through a mouth full of pancakes. He had flour on his face and shirt. In the middle of killing dozens of vamps or ganking demons, you would never guess that Dean also made delicious blueberry pancakes. You couldn’t help but smile when you saw him pour more syrup on his pancakes and dive back in. 

Originally posted by grimnatural

“You took down way more demons than me… Obviously.”, you gestured towards your numerous still healing stitches and bruises. “I owe you a hundred bucks.”, you said shrugging nonchalantly and adding syrup to your own pancakes. He had positioned the blueberries to look like a smiley face. You wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch him, but you no longer knew where you stood with Dean. The easy, flirtatious demeanor you two had previously shared had disappeared.

“Why would you owe me 100 bucks for taking those asshats down?”, Dean replied, his bright green eyes staring at you quizzically.

It had been three weeks since that night when your Knight in Shining Impala swooped in to save you from two days of constant torture. You had lost so much blood that night you only remembered a few details. They played through your mind like a hazy dream. You remembered the pain of knives cutting deep into your skin, the punches thrown by the oversize meathead demon over and over when you refused to reveal the location of the bunker and the look of confusion on the tall blonde demon’s face as she fell to the ground, knife protruding from her stomach. 

You remembered those few details, but still felt detached, as if it was an out of body experience. The only way you knew it wasn’t a dream was the very real cuts and bruises that were scattered across your body. Each time you moved you felt a stab of pain. With each painful movement, there was a flash of the terror you felt for two days straight, most of which you had spent believing that you had been left behind. You blamed yourself. You hadn’t been a hunter for long, only about three years. In that time you had never had to face more than one demon at a time. You had tried to show off for Dean, but you ended up on the edge of death.

The only thing you remembered with absolute clarity was the way Dean had looked at you and how he called you baby. He had been so sincere and loving. There was no doubt in your mind that Dean had meant every word he said, but as you healed and slowly returned to some semblance of your normal self he became distant. You still spoke to each other, joking and laughing like before but the flirting had stopped. There was a subtle tension between the two of you. Like you both knew deep down a line had been crossed before either of you had agreed a line even existed.  

“Y/N”, Dean said while snapping his fingers to draw you out of your thoughts. “Why would you owe me money?”

You sighed, slightly exasperated, mostly because you didn’t want to have to remind him of your foolish boasting before you were so easily taken down and tortured by demons. “We were on the road headed to the abandoned house where the demons were camped out and I bet that I could take down more demons than you or Sam. Obviously I lost.” once again gesturing to your bruised and cut face.

You thought Dean would laugh and take the money, maybe make a comment about you being too slow and then you would move on to another topic, but that didn’t happen. Instead, he dropped his fork so aggressively that it clattered to the floor after bumping against his plate and toppling off of the edge of the table.

Dean pushed his chair back and stood before he shouted, “Damn it Y/N! I don’t want your money. Just don’t bring it up again!” You sat there speechless, why he was so upset about a silly bet. Part of you wanted to ease the tension with a sarcastic joke, but the other part wanted to reach out to Dean and take him in your arms. Before you could find any words or muster the courage to embrace him, he stalked off.

You sat there just staring at your blueberry pancakes, the right blueberry eye missing from the smiley face Dean had created. You used to be able to joke with him about anything. Nothing was off limits, there had always been an ease to your relationship. The sexual tension was there and you both made it clear you felt it, but it had always been more than that. You were friends. You had proven to the Winchester Brothers that you were loyal and they had been there for you when you had lost everything and everyone in your life.

After what had happen with the demons you didn’t know where you stood with Dean. He had saved you and from what you remember he seemed truly upset to have come that close to losing you, but maybe things had changed over the past couple of weeks. Your heart began to race thinking about what could be going through Dean’s mind. Maybe he felt you were a burden, in the first week he had taken care of you all day, every day, because you weren’t capable of moving, let alone dressing or feeding yourself. That must have been exhausting, you thought. Especially because your foolish actions were the reason you had been caught and tortured in the first place. Or maybe he thought you were a hindrance to his and Sam’s safety. Either way you knew that things between you and Dean had been changed irreparably. 

You were still staring at your pancakes while silent tears streamed down your face when Sam walked in. “Y/N, what’s the matter? Are you hurting?”

You jumped slightly when you realized he was there and quickly wiped your tears away before replying as cheerfully as possible. “No, I’m good. There’s pancakes. You should grab some before Dean changes his mind and comes back to eat them all.” You did your best to act normal but Sam saw right through you.

He ignored the pancakes and sat down in the chair next to you. “Come on Y/N, don’t lie to me. You were crying. What happened?”

You had never been able to lie to Sam. He was always good at reading people. You tried to remain calm, but your emotions betrayed you as you burst into tears, “I’m afraid that Dean thinks I’m a burden. Because I got caught and now I’m injured and I know that I can’t be any help like this. I’m scared because you two are all I have and I don’t want to be a burden, but I also don’t want to leave because I don’t know what I would do without the two of you.” You choked on your words and stopped trying to talk as you began to sob even harder.

Sam just stared at you, probably shocked at your outburst considering you never really showed your emotions like this. Sure you laughed and joked, but when your family was killed you had hardened your heart and vowed not to let yourself love anything that could be lost ever again. That was until you met Sam and Dean, when they took you in they gave you a chance at a family again. The thought that your foolish actions that night could mean you would lose them was too much to bear.

“Y/N, I don’t know where you’re getting these ideas from, but I know for a fact that Dean doesn’t think you’re a burden. I’ve never seen him more determined than those two nights when we were looking for you. You are our family and if there is one thing we don’t give up on, it’s family.”

You had calmed down while listening to Sam and began to wipe away your tears. “So you two aren’t planning to kick me to the curb?”, you said with a sheepish smile.

“Of course not, who would make outlandish bets and dive into crazy, dangerous situations headfirst if you were gone?”, Sam replied with a smirk.

You sniffled just a bit as a grin spread across your face and you replied, “Dean.”

Sam laughed out loud before heading to the other side of the kitchen to grab a banana and bottle of water. He patted you on the back and headed towards the bunker exit, probably for his morning jog.

*A few hours later*

You felt better after your talk with Sam and had decided to clean up after breakfast. You wanted to do something, anything to make yourself feel useful. Afterwards, you went to your room to take some pain meds, the dull ache was turning into a stabbing pain. You were exhausted, but the thought of getting back into bed, where you had been stuck for almost two weeks, seemed terrible. Instead you grab your fluffiest blanket and headed to the “TV Room”. Sam and Dean had found a beaten up, but comfy sofa and a flat screen TV that still worked and put it in one of the spare bedrooms. Dean quickly took the opportunity to add shelves and fill them with all of his favorite DVDs from classic Westerns to the latest season of Game of Thrones.

You pulled a random John Wayne movie from the shelf and settled into your favorite corner of the couch. As the pain meds began to kick in, your body began to relax and you started to drift off. You barely noticed as Sam sat down on the opposite end of the couch. You didn’t wake until you heard the music playing during the end credits.

“Nice nap Y/N?”, Sam said as he searched for a new movie to watch.

You suppressed a yawn and stretched, wincing at the ache in your muscles. “Yea I think I needed that after my breakdown this morning.”, you replied with a grin.

Sam smiled and grabbed Good Will Hunting from the shelf, heading to the DVD player, “You’ve been through a lot in these past few weeks Y/N. I think you might be entitled to a bit of a breakdown.”

You both settled into your corners of the couch and began to watch the movie when you heard the unmistakable sound of Dean heading towards the TV room moments later.

Dean entered and glanced in your direction before turning his attention to Sam. He dropped a folder onto Sam’s lap. “We’ve got a case, Jacob, that hunter we met in Lincoln said he’s been trying to take down what he thinks is a werewolf for a week, but he’s not having much luck alone. Decided to call in backup.”

Sam leafed through the file quickly before stopping to read one of the pages. “These vics all died in their sleep. And had their hearts removed after they were already dead. Why does he thinks this is a werewolf? That’s not the right MO at all.”

Dean shrugged, “He could be wrong, he seemed in over his head, I think that’s why he called us.”

Sam closed the file and stood, “Okay, then let’s get going.”

You began to rise from the sofa when Dean finally turned to you and muttered, Uh uh, you stay put.”

You scoffed, “Are you kidding me? It’s been weeks, I’m fine. Besides even if it’s something other than a werewolf, the three of us would have no problem taking it down together.”

Originally posted by destieliscockles

Dean looked like he wanted to yell at you before Sam stepped in and said, “Look Y/N, we know that you’re feeling anxious to get back out there, but you still need to heal.” You began to interject, but he cut you off. “No. Stay here, heal, get better, that way you can actually be in real fighting condition sometime soon.”

You slumped down into the couch, angrily brushing away the tears that had formed in the corners of your Y/E/C eyes. 

Sam looked at you with sympathy in his eyes, “How about you help us with some research before we head out. I don’t think this is a werewolf.”

“Yea sure, no problem.” You forced a smile and began to stand. Dean looked like he wanted to say something, but you swept past him, heading to the library. You wanted to feel like you were helping in some way, since you were apparently on “house arrest”.

You started looking through the lore. You searched for anything that would indicate a werewolf killing a vic in their sleep, then removing the heart. But a nonviolent death by a werewolf just wasn’t a thing. You grew frustrated after about half an hour and decided to look at the vic’s autopsy photos again. This time when you looked closer at the area of the chest where the heart had been removed, you saw small writing carved into the skin above the gapping whole of the vic’s chest.


You recognized it as Chinese and found the symbol online. It meant Huli Jing. The Huli Jing was a Fox spirit that typically took the form of a beautiful woman who seduced her victims before taking their last breath while they slept. You were writing all of this information down when Sam and Dean entered the library carrying their bags.

“So I’m pretty sure we are dealing with a Huli Jing” you said handing the folder to Sam.

“A Huli Whatty?” Dean replied.

“A Huli Jing. It’s a Chinese Fox spirit. It typically takes the form of a beautiful woman who seduces her victim and steals their essence during their sleep. This probably explains why all of vics are male. What I can’t understand is why the heart is missing. That isn’t their typical kill pattern. If this is a Huli Jing, I think they’ve gone rogue, maybe this is less about taking their essence to survive and more about personal revenge.”

Both Sam and Dean looked impressed and for a second you felt like things were back to normal. “Thanks Y/N, this is really going to help. Did you see how to stop them?”, said Sam.

“Yea, well there’s the kicker. It looks like you need a stake from the Magnolia tree. It’s indigenous to China. I wasn’t sure where you would be able to find one in Lincoln, but it looks like you’ll luck out at the Botanical Garden at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. They have a Chinese garden exhibit right now.”

Sam smiled and gave you a one armed hug before heading toward the door, “Great job Y/N. We’re going to hit the road, we shouldn’t be gone long. Let us know if you need us.”

“I’ll be fine, let me know if you need anymore research and don’t get seduced.” you said with a grin. You were masking your hurt with humor and hoped they wouldn’t notice.

Dean hesitated by the door. “Rest”, he said.

“Alright Nurse Dean, just get outta here.”, you gave him a playful shove and smirk.

Dean didn’t smile, but his eyes softened and he brushed his fingers across your cheek and hair before he turned and walked out to meet Sam.

You stood there for a moment, listening to Baby head down the road before you collapsed into the chair with a sob. Feeling more alone and confused than you had since your parent’s death. 

Originally posted by hunterchesters

It was noon on Sunday and they had been gone for two days. You had spent both days in perpetual boredom. By the first 12 hours of day one you had already caught up on your favorite TV shows and reorganized your closet. You had never been okay with idleness and weeks of staying in the bunker to heal was making you even more antsy to get outside.

You tried to listen to Dean and stay in the bunker, but by Sunday evening you couldn’t sit still any longer. You tossed on boots and an old sweatshirt Dean had given you before you grabbed the keys to one of the cars in the garage. You went to the Walmart and picked up a bottle of wine, some chocolate and some random facial and hair masks. You had decided that a little relaxation was the only thing that could stop you from pacing the bunker nonstop.

When you got back home you undressed and put on the fluffy robe you kept hidden from Sam and Dean. You knew they would tease you if they saw it, but tonight you were alone and you wanted to be comfortable. You piled your hair covered in deep conditioner on top of your head and secured it with a clip before applying a chocolate scented face mask.

You had 30 minutes to spare before you needed to get in the shower and rinse everything off. You poured yourself a glass of wine and took a bite of chocolate before wandering absentmindedly down the hall. You realized you had arrived at Dean’s room. You knew you shouldn’t snoop, but your curiosity got the better of you and you entered his room.

It had been a couple of month’s since you had been inside Dean’s room. Not much had changed. You walked over to his bed, his t-shirt was lying there and you knew he must have changed in a hurry before leaving on the hunt. You sat on the edge of his bed, and pulled the shirt towards you to breathe in his scent. A mix of whiskey and leather and something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Something primal, you thought. Out loud you said, “Yeesh, I need to get laid if just his t-shirt is turning me on this much.”

You laid back on his bed and rested your head on his pillow, careful not to get any of the face mask or conditioner on it. Your thoughts began to wander and you couldn’t help but think of Dean lying in this bed at night. How amazing would it be to wake up next to him? To feel him hold me in the middle of the night, you wondered.

You stayed this way for almost half an hour before it became unbearable because you couldn’t move your face with the now dry mask. As you went to readjust the bed and make sure Dean wouldn’t know you had been in his room you noticed something peeking out from the edge of the pillow.

You picked it up and recognized it immediately. It was a picture of the two of you from two years before. Dean had taken you to a Fair one night after you had begged him for days. In the photo his arm is around your shoulder and your arms are wrapped around his waist. The large Ferris Wheel you had ridden twice, in the background. You are both staring into the camera with big, genuine smiles on your face. You don’t look like a pair of road weary hunters in this photo. Just like two people, happy to be in each other’s company.

You stand in shock for a moment before placing the picture back under his pillow and heading back to your room. You couldn’t believe that Dean kept that picture under his pillow, you always knew he was flirtatious with you, but you didn’t think he ever wanted it to be more. Especially now, after you had gotten yourself injured and risked their lives in the process. Your heart was fluttering at the thought of Dean falling asleep looking at that picture and thinking of you.

You looked down and realized that you had brought his t-shirt back with you. Instead of returning it to his room, you slipped out of your robe, got in the shower and stayed there until the water ran cold before you dried yourself off and slipped the t-shirt on. You grabbed a pair of panties and thick socks before climbing into bed. 

Your mind raced and you didn’t even take your pain medication before you drifted off into Dean filled dreams. In the morning you woke to the smell of coffee and bacon. You shot up out of bed before wincing in pain and reminding yourself that you weren’t fully healed yet. You slipped on leggings and grabbed your pain meds before heading towards the enticing scents.

“Good morning, it smells great.”, you say groggily while stretching your arms above your head, your shirt riding up to expose your stomach. “I’m glad you two are back, it was becoming really unbearable here alone.”

Sam and Dean stare at you as you grab a mug and fill it to the brim with coffee. You grab a piece of bacon and head toward the table before realizing they are still looking at you. 

Originally posted by canonspngifs

“Um, it’s rude to stare.”

Sam spoke first, “Sorry, but is that Dean’s shirt?”

You stopped chewing your bacon and look down at the shirt you were wearing, Dean’s shirt, the one you had completely forgotten you had put on. “OH! Uh, yea I must have grabbed the wrong shirt from the laundry yesterday after my shower.” You felt your face heating up from embarrassment and you hoped that would be explanation enough. You quickly tried to change the subject. “Everything go smoothly with the hunt?”

Dean cleared his throat, looking you up and down once more before he nodded curtly and left the kitchen. Sam shook his head at Dean and replied, “Yea it turns out you were right, it was a Huli Jing, but she was targeting cheating men in the area. She disguised herself as a marriage counselor. Thanks for your help Y/N, it would have taken a lot longer to find her without that information”

You were still wondering why Dean was acting so strangely but you turned to Sam with a smile and said, “I doubt it Sam, you and Dean are pros, but thanks for making me feel like a part of the team.”

“You ARE a part of the team Y/N”, Sam replied before heading to his room.

You walked to the TV Room hoping to find Dean and as luck would have it, there he was, sitting on the couch. He looked at you for a moment before his eyes settled back on the television.

“Hey”, you said. “Everything alright? I promise I’ll clean your shirt and get it back to you later today.” You said with a grin.

“I don’t care about the shirt Y/N” Dean replied gruffly.”

“Well then what’s wrong with you Dean? You’ve been so distant since breakfast the other day. If you have a problem with me, or if you feel like I’m a burden or a detriment to the team, then JUST SAY IT!” You didn’t realize that your voice had become loud until you stopped speaking.

Dean looked at you, his gorgeous green eyes wide with surprise. You had never raised your towards him before. “Y/N, you’re not a burden. I just have a lot on my mind since that night when you were captured by those demons. I was in a rage Y/N. I didn’t… I didn’t know what I would do to them if they hurt you. What I would do if we didn’t find you.” Dean’s fists were clenched now and he was no longer looking at your face.

“Tell me what’s on your mind, I’m safe. They didn’t hurt me, we got them. I’m here.” you moved closer, but he backed away. “I can’t Y/N, not right now. Just leave it be, please.” he walked around you and out of the TV Room leaving you standing there.

You wanted to run after him. You wanted to yell and scream and ask him why he was treating you like this when you knew for a fact he cared more than he was willing to admit. You heard him call you baby while he stitched you up and you saw the picture in his room. You wanted to tell him he didn’t have to fight his feelings anymore. Instead you stood there, tears rolling down your cheeks, biting your tongue and giving him the space he asked for.

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Henrik Lundqvist will pay his fine in the form of five thousand one-dollar bills, new, crisp, and neatly pressed, smelling of the finest cologne, in designer leather briefcases delivered by attractive Swedish women.