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
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.
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.
FLASHBACK “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
“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.”
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
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
“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
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.
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
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
“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.
“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
“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,
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
“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
“Sir, how might I be of assistance?”
“JARVIS, I think…I think maybe we should shut it down for
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
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.
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
“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?”
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.”
In my dream last night I was at an aquarium and there were a LOT of seals there and they were getting loaded into their tank and I was standing on a bridge trying to protect the children (from something?) But anyway Obama came up to me and told me I was doing such a wonderful job at music school and at oboe and for protecting the children so he gave me The New Hundred Dollar Bill which had his face on it and I said thanks bro that means a lot and I hugged Obama good bye cuz he had to get back to being the most important person in the world
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
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.
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