i keep staring and thinking that if i stare long enough her underwear will disappear


Originally posted by spn-spam

Characters: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2344

Summary:  Dean watches the reader flirt at the bar and jealousy gets the better of him.

Warnings: Jealous!Dean, Smut, Oral Sex (Female Receiving), Unprotected Sex, Voyeurism, Sex in a public space, Unhealthy Relationship Dynamics,

A/N:  This is the first of a two part miniseries: Jealousy and Acceptance.  I’ve been wanting to explore the concept of jealousy and trust in a series.  It seems like it’s a troupe that’s often used romantically, but I wanted to write it in a more subversive light.  This is a weird one. Special thanks for @deals-with-demons, for being my beta. 

Dean glared at her from across the room, taking another drink from his glass.  She was at the bar, leaning up against a stranger and laughing.  It was the laughter that had Dean bothered.

The stranger crooked his finger, urging her to come closer.  She leaned in, her chest dipping low to bring her head closer to him.  He whispered something in her ear that sent her biting her lip and blushing.

Dean flinched, his demeanor darkening.

Why shouldn’t she be at the bar, meeting someone new, he reasoned with himself.  He’d kept her locked away in the bunker doing research, out of harm’s way, for ages now.  She’d said she needed fresh air.  And Dean had begrudgingly agreed.  Apparently, what she’d meant was she needed to get laid.

Tall, dark stranger traced the edge of her knee with his finger and she giggled.

The sex, he understood.  But it was the laughter that killed him.  One thing he couldn’t provide, but the other, he could; he could make her laugh.  He was fucking amazing at it.  It was up there on his top 10 best skills.

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Missing, Part 2, A Sickening Discovery.

Summary: ReidxReader, the team is searching Readers apartment for any sign of where she might be, and find some highly disturbing clues that leave Spencer a sobbing mess.

Warnings: violence, adult/dark themes
Requested by: @bendingovervirginia Hope you guys like it, I’ll likely be posting the final part tomorrow or Monday. -Estelle🌟

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How Kind of You

This is another short story for a special lady - @waywardjoy. Sweetheart, I had this thought and remembered you liked old films and well… this is for you, you helped me get back into the swing of a series and have been nothing but kind when I pester you, you’re becoming a fast friend! Hope you like this…

Summary: It’s movie time with Sam, you pick your fave movie, little does he know you can recite every line and sing every song … not just when the movie’s on.
Word Count: 1570
Warnings: Fluff and Smut!
A/N: This is unbeat’d and for some reason my mind isn’t playing nice anytime I try and write smut… so apologies if it’s shit.

Originally posted by frozen-delight

The music started and you collapsed back onto the bed, bouncing yourself back to the headboard and under Sam’s arm.
He chuckled, amused at your excitement for the old movie you’d seen hundreds of times before. Little did he know he was in for a show, you knew this movie word for word, song for song, action for action.
You couldn’t help your legs jiggling as the screen faded up from black, rain poured and the cobbled streets of Covent Garden were packed with London, snobs hailing cabs to get out of the miserable weather. Then there was Freddy and his mother. Sam put a large hand on your thigh to settle you.
“Two bunches of violets trod in the mud, a full day’s wages.” you said under your breath as Freddy bumped into Eliza, sending her sprawling, basket and all. Sam thought he knew exactly what he was in for now, you’d say every line… little did he know you’d proudly sing every song!
Minutes later, when Sam had managed to drown out your mutterings, you flung your arm out as you sang the first line,
“Look at her, a prisoner of the gutter!” Your booming English accent scared the younger Winchester half to death, but you didn’t realize, as you went along with the rest of the song much to Sam’s annoyance.

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Diary (Sam x Reader)

  AN: Hey guys! I originally planned to have Its been awhile part 2, but its not done yet. I apologize. To make up for it, I wrote another oneshot in its place. This one is based on my dreams and another imagine prompt I’ve seen some where. Enjoy!

Imagine Dean finding your diary, reading all your personal thoughts on Sam and accidentally revealing it to him.

Originally posted by ackles

Originally posted by fallingrosesromance

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Cleaning up my archive I found this ancient thing I had completely forgotten, one of my first exchanges with @reshopgoufa. Ash, maybe you remember it, the italics part is all yours ;) Unfortunately I lost the first part of the exchange, but I remember what it was about. It went pretty much like this:

Horny Clexa. More specifically, Clarke living for making Lexa horny in the most inappropriate moments. Small, far from innocent touches, a few whispered words against the shell of her ear, and the Commander is a shaking mess. Clarke just loves having this effect on Lexa. Loves teasing the grounder, seeing how far she can push it till Lexa retaliates in the best way. This is what brings Clarke to push her hand between Lexa’s legs, during a formal dinner with all the ambassadors. Just placing her hand there is enough for Lexa to almost choke on the piece of steak she was chewing. When Lexa’s eyes go wide Clarke simply smiles at her, acting as if nothing is happening. She keeps Lexa guessing, never doing the same thing twice: she caresses Lexa’s inner thighs, she rubs circles over the fabric of her pants, grinds down directly against her center. Lexa’s face is on fire in a matter of minutes and her breathing is coming almost in pants, all her energies occupied in trying to appear unbothered. But Clarke is wicked, and right when one of the ambassadors has started a speech to praise his Heda, and the room has gone quiet, she slides her fingers under the waistband of Lexa’s pants and underwear. She stays there only for a moment, the time to swipe her fingertips over a wet, throbbing bundle of nerves, but it’s enough: Lexa goes rigid and a groan escapes from her throat.

With that little bit of alertness she still has left, Lexa manages to mask it with a very unconvincing cough. Clarke is grinning by now. She removes her hand and goes back to enjoying dinner. She can feel Lexa’s stare burning into her, and when she turns around, she indeed finds Lexa shooting daggers at her, her green eyes promising punishment. Clarke’s grin only grows. She cannot wait.

Oh but here’s the thing. The lovely delightful thing. It’s that lexa ignores clarke for the better part of the night. She finishes up some things after the dinner has ended, takes care of some business. Washes her face, unbraids and brushes out her hair, sets out her clothes for tomorrow. Ignores clarke to the point that she’s pouty and petulant at the thought of ‘this’ being her punishment for messing with lexa in public the way she did.

But Lexa’s actual punishment for her is far more wretched. After she backs Clarke against the edge of the bed, voice dangerously low, “don’t you ever do that again” and. The entire rest of the night is torture in the form of ‘not enough’ of lexa bringing clarke to the delicious wonderful blissful edge over and over again and then stopping. Hours pass that way. Of Lexa’s fingers curled around clarke’s wrists and soft firm warnings to behave and a wicked tongue and clever fingers and it feels so so good but clarke just wants to Come.

But she was being a brat at dinner, so just when clarke thinks lexa is finally going to have mercy on her, she stops. Entirely. Sitting back and smirking when clarke curls in on herself and cries snd curses lexas awful wretched name.

“That’ll teach you to fuck with me in public ”

And Lexa is super serious about this 'punishment’ so she actually goes to sleep and tells Clarke to do the same, ignoring the string of curses that Clarke mutters under her breath.

Clarke tries to sleep, she really really tries. But she only gets a few minutes of rest, before waking up again, hot and sweaty. And the cycle repeats itself every time she closes her eyes. No matter what she does, how many times she rolls over in the bed, she just can’t find peace.

She stares at Lexa’s relaxed face, and honestly fuck the grounder, because she is sleeping peacefully, completely unbothered, while Clarke feels literally like one single living, throbbing nerve.

The rest of the night passes pretty much like this, and it’s when Clarke sees the first rays of light shining through the curtains that she realizes she can’t handle this anymore. It’s not physically possible to be brought to the edge as many times as Lexa did with her and remain sane. She. Needs. Release.

She looks over to Lexa, still sound asleep next to her. That’s when she makes up her mind.

Carefully, slowly, so fucking slowly, her left hand slips under the sheets. She lets her fingers dance on her belly for one last eternal moment, then they travel further down and she touches herself where she needs the most.

She has to bite her lip to hold back a moan as pleasure surges in her. Before the last bit of control she has left can slip away, she checks once again if Lexa is still asleep. When she sees no reaction from the brunette next to her, Clarke lets herself go. She spreads her legs and her head falls back on the pillow, as she works between her legs. Her eyes flutter involuntarily close. She has been doing this for barely two minutes and she feels herself already reaching the edge. That’s how much Lexa tortured her the night before, how desperate she left her. Plus, the chance of being caught in the middle of it is unexpectedly thrilling to Clarke. It sends sparks of pleasure right to her core, and it turns her on even more, if possible. At this rate, it’s not gonna be long before she comes undone.

Soon her fingers speed up. Breath catches, mouth falls open, free hand grips tightly the sheets.

She is close, oh so close. The ache in her belly intensifies to the point of becoming almost too much. Her movements become frantic. Everything disappears around her. There is only the unbearable pressure and the heat that threatens to consume her. But she is almost there now. Just a little more… Just a few more seconds… a few more–

And suddenly nothing.

Her mind is so clouded that it takes her a moment to realize that her hand is no longer between her legs, and is now instead pinned right above her head, stuck in an impossibly strong hold.

Clarke’s eyes snap open to find two dark, devilish emeralds staring back at her.

“I thought we’d agreed you needed to be punished…”

No, no, NO! God, please no! She was so close! Clarke feels ready to cry, so frustrated and desperate she is. She thought it was bad before? Well, having Lexa’s perfect naked body pressed against her only makes everything worse. Clarke wriggles underneath Lexa, trying to get free, but all she gets is the brunette grabbing her free hand too and pinning both of her wrist above her head with one hand, trapping her definitively.

“I told you to behave, Clarke,” Lexa whispers in her ear. Fuck, how is it possible for a voice to literally ooze sex?

“And instead I wake up to find you doing this?”

Clarke wants to reply but whatever she was about to say is lost into a whimper when Lexa presses her muscular thigh against her damp center.

“Am I not enough for you, Clarke? My attentions? My… touches?” And Clarke literally gasps when she feels the thigh being replaced by Lexa’s skilled fingers. They are not doing much, barely teasing, AGAIN, but Clarke is so far gone that the light touch is enough to have her hips canting and to turn her into a quivering mess. She is basically drowning in her own arousal when Lexa starts circling her pulsing bundle of nerves.

“I thought you’d understood last night, but maybe to really learn, you need… more.”

Without warning Lexa slides two fingers inside of Clarke. The blonde’s breath slams from her lungs, as Lexa’s name escapes from her lips in the form of a cry.

Lexa shows no mercy. Her movements are fast, unforgiving, so fucking precise, and Clarke can do nothing but writhe and moan and beg. She clamps her eyes shut as she feels the pressure build, build, until she is about to explode. And then Lexa stops.

“Nooooo!” It’s more a whine than a scream, but Clarke literally lacks the strength to scream. She slams repeatedly her head against the pillow and she curses Lexa in all the ways she knows.

“Fuck, Lexa! This isn’t– oh God…”

The curse turns into a sob when Lexa starts moving again, bringing her again closer and closer to the delicious release Clarke is not allowed to reach.

And when she is there, Lexa stops once more. She waits a few minutes, teasing Clarke with her voice and her words, and then she starts again. And then the same, over and over.

There are actual tears in Clarke’s eyes by now. Her need has practically devoured her sanity. She is not even fighting anymore. She is just trembling, overstimulated flesh that can do nothing but moan and whimper and beg. There is not even a resting period now. Her body is stuck in a constant place of delicious agony. She feels like she is going insane.

“P-please…” she tries again, no dignity or pride left. She know that Lexa is skilled enough to keep her in this state pretty much forever, and she just can’t do it anymore.

“Are you sorry for what you did to me, Clarke?” Lexa asks with her sultry voice, and even her hot breath against Clarke’s ear seems a stimulation too intense at this point. Clarke frantically nods.

“Yes! Yes, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for teasing you in p-public…”

“Mmmm, you don’t seem convinced…”

Clarke lets out a strangled sob. “NO! I am, I am so so sorry! P-please… I’ll do anything, Lexa! Please!”

Her entire body is on fire, she is DYING with need.

And suddenly Lexa starts pumping into her relentlessly. Clarke cannot breathe, her brain can’t function, all she feels is unbearable pleasure.

Don'tstopdon'tstopdon'tstop… That’s all there is in her mind as Lexa keeps moving in her. She is so afraid that Lexa might stop again. The release she desperately needs feels so close and yet so far away.

And suddenly Lexa presses the heel of her hand against Clarke’s nub, and her fingers curl up and start tapping against that spot that Clarke, before her first time with Lexa, didn’t even know could bring so much pleasure.

Clarke hangs there, on that delicious, agonizing edge for a few eternal seconds, and then finally, FINALLY, she tumbles over.

The force of her release is mind shattering. Her entire body shakes and her vision goes white. She thinks she screams Lexa’s name, but she cannot be sure. She cannot be sure of anything. Her body goes limp, her mind empty, and her eyes fall closed. She is beautifully destroyed, completely and entirely spent.

She is still busy catching her breath, so she misses a few passages of what happens, but at one point Lexa is not pinning her down anymore. Instead, Clarke finds herself in her arms, as Lexa rubs soothing circles on her back and presses the softest kisses on every inch of her face.

“I am here, ai hodnes. I’ve got you, just breathe… Are you good? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Clarke’s heart swells hearing the love and concern in Lexa’s voice. It’s crazy that this sickly sweet girl holding her is the same sex goddess that was fucking her into oblivion only a few minutes ago. She takes another moment to even her breath, then one corner of her mouth curves into a small smile.

“No, you didn’t. Don’t worry, I loved it…” Her smile widens when she sees the relief on Lexa’s face.

“And maybe we won’t do this every day…” she adds playfully, with a sly glint in her eyes. “but if this is the result, get ready, because I’m probably going to need more of these lessons.”

Candid Shot (Olicity AU, One-Shot, T)

A long time ago, the lovely missystherya posted these tags:

#Stephen Amell#my brain is frozen#how dare#so many olicity aus are popping into my head rn#and all of them include felicity getting hot and bothered when she sees this picture of oliver

Summary: Felicity is the assistant to world-famous actor Oliver Queen’s.

A/N: This was supposed to be naughtier, but it wouldn’t go there! “He looked good, like sin in a suit” quote from Wicked Lovely by Melissa Marr (via @olicitybaby4ever). Do I know anything about being a celebrity? Pffft.

The table was covered in scripts.

She was so sick of reading scripts.

That was a lie. She actually loved reading scripts, but what she didn’t like was reading bad scripts. And about ninety percent of the scripts on this extra-tall table were bad scripts.

“Clichés, character tropes, way too much outer space without actually being in outer space,” Felicity murmured under her breath, giving up on the bundle of papers before her. She opened another sheaf of paper, flipping through it quickly, stopping at a random page. Her eyes scanned over the dialogue - why did anyone think it was a good idea for… “Oh.”

Her eyes caught on the transition scene, the very explicit transition scene. The words ‘Kale takes her panties off, and you get a shadowy glimpse of his hard…’ lit up on the paper like they were actually glowing.

Felicity dropped the script like it was on fire, making a face and shoved it away.

“Does nobody have any respect for a contract anymore? No frontal nudity contract! It’s simple. It’s so simple, it’s even bolded, including hints… and yet…” Felicity tossed the script into the ‘no’ pile. “People still send these to him. Why? Is the butt not enough?”


The butt was enough.

It was more than enough.

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yesterday spaghettiluek and I had a.. chat and this happened. I realised 1000 words in that I hate this but anyway here you go :)

“Uh, babe?” Luke’s voice sounded from in front of the mirror, his fingers working to do up the buttons of the black shirt he’d slipped over his broad shoulders. “Little bit of a problem in here…”

You poked your head through the bathroom door, fresh red lips pursed in curiosity, “Hmm? What’s up?” He spun around from the mirror, fingers paused two buttons down from finishing, eyes wide, flicking rapidly between you and his exposed chest.

“Oh,” You bit the inside of your cheek to suppress a smirk, noting the panic flashing across his face. “Right… those…” Stepping forward, you brushed your fingertips softly across the cluster of marks you’d left across his collarbones the night before, the scratches inching over his shoulders and across his chest, physical evidence of how much you’d missed him while he was gone.

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“Frank Protecting Karen” prompt SEQUEL!!!!

A week or so ago, someone prompted me to write  Kastle prompt fill “Frank Helping to Protect Karen When Fisk Finds out she Killed Wesley”, and it’s been so well liked (and I was so taken with it myself) that I decided to write a sequel to it! 

The prompt I gave myself? “Frank Comes to Karen Beaten and Bloody and it Becomes Her Turn to Protect Him”

Here’s hoping you enjoy it!

Karen doesn’t often respond to knocks at her door without a gun in her hand anymore. She inches her way toward the peep hole in response to two decided thumps, and one sloppy, muffled one like someone falling against her door—or halfheartedly trying to break it down. She pauses for a moment, waiting for another sound, or gunshots. None come. So she looks.

A head of dark hair is all she can see. Her visitor is, indeed, slumped against the door itself. But she knows that haircut, and she sets the gun aside, and scrambles for the lock.

“Frank?!” she exclaims as she opens the door, and he all but falls into her arms. “What the hell?”

“Need your bathtub,” he grunts.

“What? Why?”

“Better n’ bleeding on the carpet.”

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knight in yellow cloth

hikaru/ben meet cute au for @clqrkkent


Hikaru is woken way too early for his liking by insistent knocking on his door. He’d been studying all night, only a week away from his first theory test and this is the only free morning he’ll have all week so he wanted to spend the time sleeping until his afternoon lessons began. So it is safe to say that the disturbance at his door is something of an irritation.

He still in his sleep wear – an old gaming t-shirt and a pair of boxers – when he stumbles to the door. He fumbles with the lock, and swings the door open with such viciousness that a breeze catches strands of his hair. The man on the other side looks apologetic and frantic, and that’s what makes Hikaru bite is tongue. That, and the heavy weight that sits there because he knows this man, has admired him from afar since he’d moved in the year before. They have never actually had a conversation, only offering the briefest of greetings in passing, and Hikaru doesn’t know the man’s name – he’d been calling him 23D since the first time he’d seen what apartment he’d been leaving – but he has entertained fantasies about conversations over dinner and kisses sweetened by wine. (Xanya calls him a romantic, and Yun calls him soppy. He will proudly take both titles).

They were just that though – fantasies, and Hikaru had hoped that should 23D come to his home, he’d be a little more prepared for it. He tries not to squirm in his underwear.

“Hi,” he greets.

Hikaru drags an eye from his bare feet to the still dripping wet ends of his hair. “Hello.”

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Neon Signs

Summary: Having drunkenly married Dean comes in handy when you run into a creature that seems to be hunting newlyweds
Warnings: violence, language (does that count anymore for me?)
Links to Parts One, Two, and Four at the bottom

“I’m not actually your wife, Dean.”

“Really?” he asked, his voice challenging and lined with anger. “Because that ring on your finger and this paper says otherwise.” He pulled the wedding license from somewhere in his suit, waving it in his hand. His voice was quiet and filled with authority.

Hearing footsteps in the hallway, you bit back your response. “So get this,” Sam’s voice broke between you a moment later as the door opened. “It’s hunting newlyweds.”

Sam’s eyes flickered between you and his brother, watching as you relaxed and took an instinctive step toward Dean. “Am I interrupting something?” he asked. You belatedly realized Dean had tucked the license back into his suit.

“Not at all,” Dean answered quickly, neither of you prepared to argue the legitimacy of your marriage in front of your brother-in-law. Dean reached out and placed his hand on the small of your back, leading you out of the room and away from Sam. His fingers felt tense as they ran down your spine before falling to his side. You moved for his hand naturally, relieved when he let you link yours with his. Despite the argument that you knew hadn’t ended, you desperately wanted to comfort the man next to you. His voice broke through your thoughts as he thanked the coroner’s assistant, back at the front desk and fiddling with her laptop again.

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Wrong Room - Frat Boy!Luke Part 3

Here is part 3, thaaaaanks for requesting it! You’re all really lovely 💕


Part 1

Part 2


“Baby?” You feel a soft pair of lips placing gentle kisses along your neck.

“Why is this the second time you’ve woken me up in less than 12 hours?” You mutter, ignoring his fingers stroking circles on your stomach.

“This time I’m hungry” he kisses your shoulder.

“I was right last time, you are a child.”

“I think I’ve done more than enough to prove to you I’m all man” he scoffs.

“Such a loser” you shake your head, but the memory of last night fills your mind. Turning to face him, his blue eyes meet yours, both of you thinking about the night before.

“Come on, let me take you for breakfast.” He kisses you, gently.

  “Y/N? Have you got my blue sweatshirt?” Y/F/N, who lived in the room next door, knocking on your bedroom door makes you both jump.

“Erm…I…I don’t know!” You stammer back, your voice too high pitched. You scramble out of the bed, grabbing a shirt from the floor, not bothering to look which one it is, “Give me a second!”

“You look worried” Luke frowns, “have you lost her blue sweatshirt?” He’s completely oblivious to the reason behind the panicked expression on your face. You had always been adamant in your hatred of Luke Hemmings to anyone who would listen, Y/F/N was the one who received the brunt of these rants about how idiotic you found Hemmings and his stupid friends. You didn’t want her to see him in your room this morning, both of you naked, with messed up hair and swollen lips.

“Y/N? You okay?” Y/F/N asks, “you sound weird.”

“Hahah no, I’m fine!” Your still squeaky voice does nothing to convince her of your words.

“Is this it?” Luke stands up, pulling the sweatshirt from the back of your desk chair, his voice too loud.

“Shhhhh!” You clamp a hand over his mouth, “yes, it is. Now can you please hide?!”

“Hide?!” He looks at you in disbelief, “Are you ashamed of me?!”

“Yes, now hide somewhere!” You push him out of the view of the door, ignoring his scowl. Trying to tell yourself not to panic, you open the door to find Y/F/N slouched against the door frame.

“Finally! What were you…since when do you have a Nirvana shirt?” She looks down at what you’re wearing.

“She doesn’t, that’s mine” Luke appears at the door, in only his underwear, grin on his face, “Hi!”

“Luke!” you groan at him.

“What?!” He looks to you, “there’s nowhere to hide!”

“Oh my god…it was you!” Y/F/N’s eyes widen, “we figured it was coming from Luke’s room!”

“What are you talking about?” You try to play innocent.

“Love, we weren’t exactly quiet” Luke has a smug grin on his face, “and it wasn’t coming from my room, but it was still me.”

“Please, stop talking” you glare at him. He grins back at you, before leaning down to place a kiss on your shoulder. Y/F/N’s eyes look from you to Luke, not understanding what she’s seeing.

“We’re going for breakfast, if you wanna come?” Luke asks Y/F/N. Her eyes look like they’re about to pop out of their sockets. Luke Hemmings did not take his conquests for breakfast, Luke Hemmings said ‘goodbye’ and sent them on their way. Then again, he’d never been looking at a girl the way he was looking at you right now.

“No, I’ll leave you two to it, thanks though” she manages to reply, after a pause, “I’ll be talking to you later” she adds, her eyes narrowing at you, before walking back to her room. You turn to Luke, your eyebrow raised.

“What?” He plays innocent, “I’m not going to hide us away.” His hands grip hold of your hips, pushing you against the wall, kissing down your neck.


“Mm, baby?”

“As much as I love your mouth, the thought of pancakes is a stronger pull” you giggle as his breath tickles your skin.

“I’ll try not to take offence” he chuckles, taking your hand.


“Everyone is staring” you’re very aware that the people staring were more focused on Luke’s fingers laced through yours than anything else.

“I know, I kinda feel like Bella and Edward in that Twilight scene,” he laughs, “you know when they first arrive at school together?”

“You’ve got to be kidding?” You look up at him.

“What? I’m not a fan! I’ve just seen the film!” He defends himself, “well, we might as well give them more to talk about.” His brings his hand up to your chin, tilting your face upwards until your lips meet his.

“So that’s where you disappeared to last night?” You recognise the voice belonging to Calum, “it was about time he made a move, he’s been talking about you for long enough.”

“Whaaat? Hahaha..I haven’t! Don’t you have somewhere to be, Cal?” a blush creeps onto Luke’s cheeks.

“That’s a bit creepy, Hemmings” you scrunch your nose, making Ashton and Calum laugh.

“Shut up, you” he pulls your face back to his.

“Ugh, I’m sure we’ll meet you properly soon, Y/N” Ashton shakes his head, “when Luke can manage to keep his hands off you for more than 30 seconds.”

“Yeah, I’m sure I’ll see you…” You pull away from Luke to reply, but are quickly interrupted.

“Ignore them, they’re idiots” he murmurs, placing a kiss on your nose. His arms are wrapped around your waist, pulling you close to his chest.

  “I feel like you’re making some kind of point with this display of affection” you lock your fingers in his hair.

“Just making sure everyone knows I’m yours” he smirks.

“Luke!” you hear someone shout from a few feet away. Turning to where the voice came from, you see a incredibly pretty girl stood there. She looks you up and down, focusing on Luke’s hands gripping your waist. In the corner of your eye, you see him frown. You know immediately who she is. Giving her a friendly smile, you begin to rub small circles on his forearm with your thumb.

“Can I help you with something?” the anger in his voice is evident, mainly due to the look she’s giving you.

“I wondered where you’d disappeared to last night, you had your hands full, I see” she bites her lip, in what you assume she believes makes her look sexy, “are you free later?”

“Nope” he shakes his head, “well, it’s been nice talking to you. Bye.” His eyes are cold. She looks confused and pissed off as she walks away. As she turns around to look at you again, you pull his face to yours. There is nothing about this kiss that is appropriate for where you were stood but it made your point well.

“Marking your territory?” Luke pulls away, breathless, to rest his forehead against yours.

“I’m just doing what you said, letting everyone know that you’re mine” You grin.   

Sticks and Stones

Supernatural One Shot


Warnings: Smut, Mild Language

Word Count: 3,027 (Fuck, this got long)

Prompt: The reader and Dean are dating in high school and one night Dean takes the reader out to a field out in the middle of nowhere. Some innocent kissing led to the admitting of some feelings. The next day at school, some of Dean’s friends ask Dean how his night went and he lies saying that it was awful. Little does he know, the reader hears everything. She runs off and then years later, Dean Winchester walks into her coffee shop. but-deans-back-tho

The bell of the coffee shop rang overhead signaling you that there was yet again another customer walked cross through threshold for the caffeine paradise. You dog-eared the book that you were reading, hating the fact that you didn’t have any scrap pieces of paper laying around to bookmark it. You hated bent pages but hopefully these people wouldn’t take too long and you would be able to return to your adventure soon.

You expected a couple of college kids, walking in needing some miracle drink to keep them awake as they pulled another all-nighter for their exams. Usually, only college kids came in at… You looked down at your watch. Usually college kids came in at one a clock in the morning.

But the two men that were waiting for you to take their order were not college kids.

In fact, the man that was in front you never thought that you would ever see again. How could you forget those green eyes? Or those freckles that lined his face? How could you forget those muscles that you traced so many years ago?

You were frozen to the spot, unable to move.

Finally, he looked up from what he was reading and spotted mid step. The man behind him, his brother you remembered, nearly ran into his shorter brother.

Dean opened his mouth and breathed a single word.


“Out,” you stated, pointing towards the door that he just walked through just moments before. “Get out of my fucking coffee shop.”

That night that you desperately tried to forget came back to you.

You were nervous. Hell, you were more than nervous. Your heart was beating through your chest and you were sure that Dean could hear it.

This wasn’t like you. You were never the girl that would sneak out of her window in the middle of the night because the boy of her dreams was throwing rocks up at you. No. You were always the girl that crossed your T’s and dotted your I’s. You never got in trouble. You did your homework and turned it in on time.

But Dean Winchester was always the one to bring out the troublemaker in you. He made you want to break the rules.

And that’s how you found yourself laying next to Dean on the hood of his dad’s car staring up at the stars. His arm was under your head, which you were using as a pillow.

You were sure that it was Dean who had started the kissing. You never saw yourself as the girl that would start something but you weren’t sure. You were so caught up in the moment that you truthfully wouldn’t be surprised if you were the one that started it.

Somehow you found yourself on top of Dean, his hands on your hips careful to only touch your clothed skin. He was going to make sure that you wanted this. He wasn’t going to take advantage of you even though it would be so easy too.

But you wanted more.

You wanted Dean.

You broke away from the kiss, sitting up to take your shirt off. It fell onto the hood next to you.

Dean looked up at your now partly bare torso the only thing keeping you from completely exposed was your bra. He couldn’t help but think how beautiful you looked with the moonlight silhouetted your body that hovered above him.

You bent back down and reconnected your lips and Dean’s hands remained on your clothed hips even though he could have very easily ran his hands over your exposed body.

“Dean, I want you to touch me,” you mumbled against his lips.

He broke away staring up at you.

“Are you sure, Y/N? I don’t…I don’t want to force you to do anything that you don’t want to do,” and he was being sincere. He wanted to make sure that you really wanted to do this.

To answer him, you reached behind your back and unclasped your bra. The straps slid down your arms. You looked down at the still fully clothed Winchester and wanted him to be equal with you. You slid your hands under the fabric of his shirt, feeling the way his muscles react to your touch. He lifted his body up from the hood of the Impala just high enough that you could slip the shirt over his head.

You couldn’t help but stare at him.

“You like what you see?” He asked with a smug little smile.

You made that smile disappear by leaning back down, making sure to press as much of your bare chest to his as you could, and kissed him.

Finally his hands moved from your hips and he grabbed your breasts in each of his hands, gently kneading them. You moaned at the feeling of his hands on your bare skin. The pool of want and desire started to form in your stomach.

He continued to massage your breast until you were nearly squirming with the wanting of him inside you.

“Dean…” you moaned his name as a plea.

He never broke contact with your lips as his hands moved from your breast to grip your hips as he flipped you to where you were now pinned underneath him. Your hair fanned out on the hood of the car almost like it was a halo.

He peppered your face with short, soft kisses and moved down your body. His lips rested on the sensitive spot right in the crook of your neck. His tongue rested there for a moment feeling your quickening pulse.

Then the biting and sucking started. You gasped at the feeling of his teeth biting down on your neck. And it felt so damn good. He felt good.

His fingers found the button on your jeans and he unbuttoned them. His fingers brushed above the skin above your waistband leaving goose bumps in his wake.

Then he worked himself down your body until he pulled both your jeans and underwear off but he didn’t go back to kissing you immediately. He hovered over you, looking up and down your body like you were the most beautiful thing that he had ever seen. You didn’t even have time to start to feel self-conscious about yourself before he went back to kissing you.

In a matter of moments he had pulled off his jeans and slid a condom onto his already hard member.

“Y/N, are you sure?” He asked one last time.

To reply, you flipped him back over on his back, your hands rested on his shoulders.

“I don’t want anything else,” you answered.

Then you lowered yourself onto him. You gasped at the feeling as Dean threw his head back on the car; his eyes shut tight, his mouth slightly open. You leaned down and kissed his chest as you started roll your hips forward.

“God dammit, Y/N,” Dean moaned.

His hands grabbed your face, bringing your lips back up to his.

You were no longer thinking. You just let your body take over your motions. Your hips moved to their own accord. Slowly you started to move faster, his hips lifted off the hood of the car meeting yours with every thrust.

He pushed your hair to one shoulder and started to suck on the skin there.

All too soon you felt the heat pool in your stomach become something unbearable and you came with a loud moan. He came moments after you with a moan that was down right sinful. You rode out your high and rolled off of him.

You lay on your back staring up at stars that twinkled above you trying to catch your breath.

You felt him wrap his arms around your body pulling you close pressing a kiss to your hairline.

“I love you so much, Y/N,” he whispered.

You kissed his shoulder and then laid your head on his chest.

“I love you too,” you whispered.

And you and Dean laid together in a tangle of bare limbs staring up at the stars in the sky.


You were still in a state of bliss all throughout school the next day. There was a smile that couldn’t seem to erase itself from your face. Dean had left you a note in your locker telling you to met him after school outside the locker room.

After bidding your friends a quick good-bye, you hoisted your bag further up on your shoulder and made your way to the locker room.

You stood outside smiling shyly whenever someone left waiting for Dean to come out. He told you that he wanted to take you somewhere that he thought you would love. Your thoughts wandered back to last night. You could still feel the ghost of his fingers trace your skin.

A chorus of laughter shook your from your daydream.

“So, you and Y/N, man,” a voice that you didn’t recognize seeped from the locker room to your ears. “Tell me, how was she?”

You heard Dean’s shy chuckle.

“Come on, man. Don’t hold out on me. We’ve all heard the stories. The shy, naive virgin. How easy was it?”

The silence seemed to stretch forever. You hoped that Dean would excuse himself from the conversation. There was no need for his friend to know how your night went last night. That was between you and Dean. Only you and Dean.

Every part of you wanted to turn and leave but something made you stay.

Something kept your feet rooted to the spot.

Finally he spoke.

“It was pathetic. She was so quick to take her clothes off that I almost felt bad for her, you know.” With every word he spoke, your heart was slowly breaking. “She barely lasted two minutes. I don’t even think it was worth the gas that it took to drive her out there.”

It took everything you in to keep the sob quite.

You couldn’t really process what he was saying.

He didn’t actually love you.

The only reason why he took you out to the field under the stars was the fuck you.

“Did she tell you that she loved you? Don’t tell me that she did.”

Dean laughed. “Yeah, she did.”

“Oh man, I don’t know how you manage to do that. You didn’t even have to get her drunk. When are you going to dump her?”

“Today, actually. I was planning on taking her back out to the field and breaking the news there.”

His friend’s laugh was like daggers to your heart.

“That’s just mean.”

“Yeah well, in a few days I’ll be gone anyway. No use to string her out for any longer then she’s needed for. I probably won’t even remember her name.”

“You love ‘em and leave ‘em.”

“Yep.” You could practically see the smile on his face.

“You really are one lean, mean, sex machine. You have got to teach me a few things before you leave.”

“Yeah, I might but I have to go. She’ll be here at any second.”

Moments later he emerged from the locker room and he froze mid step when he say you. Tears were running down your face in disbelief. You couldn’t even form a sentence.

“Y/N…” he took a step forward but you backed up shaking your head. He reached out to touch you but you brushed his hand away.

“Don’t…touch me,” you said through clenched teeth. “Don’t you dare fucking touch me.”

And with a broken heart, you turned and ran.

The next morning he was gone.

“Dean, leave.”

But instead of turning around and leaving, Dean took a step closer to you, the counter being that only thing that kept him a safe distance. Sam took this moment to disappear into some booth that was near the entrance of the coffee shop, giving you and Dean the much-needed moment alone. “Y/N, will you please just listen to me?”

“Oh, I listened to you enough, Dean. I heard everything that you really wanted to say. Get out,” but even now you could feel your self-resolve start to disappear. With him being within a counters distance from you was just too much. You had spent countless night crying over this man, wondering what you would ever say if he did somehow show back up and here you were with your chance to scream at him and the only thing that you could say was get out. It was pathetic. You were pathetic. Just like he said that one day so many years ago.

He sighed knowing that you were still just as stubborn as you were in high school. “Give me two minutes to explain myself and if you still want me to leave then I will and I will never bother you again. Please.”

Never in your whole life you would have thought that you would hear Dean beg.

You glanced down at the watch on your wrist and watched as the second hand ticked by.

One. Two Three. Four. Five.

“You now have one minute and fifty-five seconds.”

He took a deep breath before he started speaking.

“I didn’t mean a single word that I said back then.” You started to say something but he held his finger up to signal you to shut up. You watched as he placed his hands on top of the counter and jump up over it. You no longer had this barrier keeping you from him. “My two minutes aren’t up yet. I never meant anything I said. Okay? I was…” he chuckled running a nervous hand over his face. “I was scared. Can you believe that? I was scared of what my friends would think if they knew the truth. I was in love with you, Y/N. And that scared me. I never loved anyone before and then you come along and ruin my whole life. The cool kid falling in love with the nerd.”

You opened your mouth again but he cut you off.

“I still have a minute left. I’ve been to an endless amount of high schools and they’re all the same. If I didn’t lie to my friends about that night stories of how you were so desperate to have me as a boyfriend would seep out. They would start calling you things that you should never be called. They would say that the only reason why I was staying with you was because I was staying for the sex and I didn’t want that. I didn’t want to see people judge you as you walked down the hallway. I was willing to pretend that we weren’t a couple in the public’s eye just so you and I could stay together without the pressure of having people wonder how good you were in bed.”

It took you a moment to formulate a reply. You wanted to believe Dean. You wanted to believe that he wasn’t just saying some useless words to try to make you feel better. Your brain wanted to believe him but your heart didn’t.

It had already been broken once by him, you couldn’t have it broken by him twice.

“How many other girls have you fucked on the hood of your car?” You asked when you could finally form a sentence.

“What?” He asked.

“You heard me, Dean. How many other girls did you take out to some abandoned field under the stars and whisper in their ear that you loved them as you fucked them on the hood of your car? How many?”

“You were the only one, Y/N. It was my dad’s car at the time and I was so nervous about doing that knowing my dad would probably kill me if he ever found out but I didn’t care with you. I wanted to know how it would feel.” He paused, no doubted remembering that night. “Y/N, I wanted to more of that. Having your body pressed against me and the cool metal of the Impala was a feeling that I have been searching for ever since you left. That day haunts me. You know, I was planning on telling dad that I wasn’t going to go with him. I was almost 18. I was almost an adult at that point and I was going to stay with you. You probably don’t care but I dropped out of school shortly after that. I no longer found a reason to go anymore.”

“So what, I’m supposed to forget what you said? Everything you said. I’m supposed to forget the way that you broke me heart. I mean, sticks and stones right?”

“What can I do to make you see that I still love you, Y/N?”

“I don’t know. Maybe get your ass out of my coffee shop before I call the cops.” You snapped. “Or find a damn time machine and never introduce yourself to me.”

Dean looked up at the clock on the wall.

“I still have seven seconds left, you know,” he said with that same smile that made you fall in love with him in the first place. You could feel the butterflies start flying around in your stomach.

And under his gaze you were that high school girl blushing like crazy as Dean, the cool boy, fumbled over his words asking you if you wanted to go out with him. Only this time he didn’t say anything.

Instead he grabbed you by your belt loops on your jeans and pulled you flesh against his body. The one thing that changed about Dean Winchester these past few years was his confidence. He had no problem pulling you against him and attacking your lips like it would be the last thing that he would ever do.

You felt yourself melt under his touch. You were no longer mad at him. A man that was kissing you like Dean was you couldn’t be mad at.

He poured every single emotion into that one kiss desperately trying to make you forgive him.

All too soon he pulled away, his hair a mess from your fingers that had just through it.

“Hi,” he said breathless. “My name is Dean Winchester.”

Request for: i-am-the-sempiternal (Hopefully, this is what you wanted. It was fun to write at the beginning and then I got lost more towards the end.)

missed confession ● sehun

Remind me to never hand write a scenario ever again because oh my god this took so long to type out. Anyway sorry it’s kind of late but I do hope you enjoy it! 

Summary: Sehun dismisses your confession the last year of your senior year so what happens when you run into him years later?

Type: angst, fluff 

Length: 2,811 words 

I pretty much thought he was a god for two years of my life. When I saw him at an opening ceremony concert our school did, I was a goner. The years that followed that day were spent with me seeking every opportunity to even just look at him. I went as far as convincing my friends to go over our routines in the same practice room as his group after school. I literally pined for a guy I had never spoken two words to. For two years I settled on admiring him from afar before I finally put on my big girl pants and confessed. Well attempted to.  

It was during the last week of school of my second year of performance art school. His group and mine were in the same practice room as usual. I of course was staring at him the whole time. You know the side-eye kind that you think is real sly? That was me. My group was mid-routine when I saw him just simply laugh and I had enough. I walked towards him feeling my friend’s eyes burning into my back as my clumsy feet and blaring red cheeks approached him.  

“Oh Sehun may I speak with you outside?” my voice was so tiny, and a stutter I never knew I was capable of came out. He raised his eyebrows questioningly, but nonetheless followed me behind the building.  

“You probably don’t know me but-“

“I do. You’re that girl who’s always staring at me.”

I was dumbfounded. I really thought I had been playing it cool. I felt my eyes widen like I was a damn cartoon, and my voice was trapped in my throat. He stared at me for a while before the most severely annoyed expression graced his face. “Look I’m really busy, and you’re kind of wasting my time. If this is some sort of confession I’m really not interested. Goodbye.”

I of course turned into a snotty mess as his back disappeared around the corner. The guy I put all my delusional love into didn’t give me a chance to even properly confess. Even if he wasn’t interested it was at the least very rude, and I was crushed. I finished the week this time using my effort to steer clear of Oh Sehun. That day behind the school was the last time I ever saw him.

Once that terrible event was over it didn’t take me long to realize I hated dance, and the only reason I stuck with it was for a bitchy boy. So I transferred to another art school this time for photography where I spent the following years.

Keep reading

All-American Amputee

I like minding my own business on the subway. Just leaning on one of poles and reading or texting someone. Being at peace with myself and not bothering anyone was what I did best. Other people weren’t so lucky as to have my mindset, just like this gentleman who wouldn’t stop staring at me from across the crowded subway car. The subway was absolutely packed and I was stuffed into a corner with Mr. Creepy and another young guy, who had to be my age, who was actually minding his own business. I went back to reading my book after I caught Mr. Creepy staring at me for seemed to be the seventh time. Whatever, I was used to people staring.

“Hey there, baby.” I looked up from my page, extremely irritated because Hazel was giving Augustus’s pre post-mortem eulogy and it was just beautiful and I was near tears. Mr. Creepy was standing in front of me, smiling with a sickly sweet look on his face. He was ugly, like a snake with greasy hair and no access to Proactiv. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing in a dirty town like this?”

“Minding my own fucking business, that’s what.”

Mr. Creepy pouted, his greasy forehead crinkling up at my blunt response. “Oh babe, you don’t have to be like that. I know you felt it too, the chemistry between our glances.”

My mouth actually fell open at the shamelessness of his remark. This guy really thought he was charming, didn’t he? Mr. Creepy stepped towards me and I stepped back as fast as I could, feeling the back of the subway car hit my shoulders. I pulled my bag even more over my shoulders and look around. Fuck, I was trapped. This was very bad. There must’ve been a look of fear on my face because the guy stepped forwards and smirked, revealing rotten teeth and reeking breath. “I know you want me.”

“Sir, I think that you’re over stepping your boundar-”

“Excuse me, ma'am, but is this guy bothering you? Because if he is, I’m going to kick his ass, pardon my French.” The young guy who was minding his own business stepped up from out of his corner and was looking at Mr. Creepy like he could actually kick his ass. He wasn’t tall compared to the other guy, but he was a good bit taller than me because I’m tiny.

My savior was very handsome, nice clear jawline and short cropped brown hair. His eyes were unmistakably kind, though I couldn’t quite tell what color they were. He was obviously muscular under his dark navy blue long sleeve t-shirt, and so noticed that he had a protective hand outstretched in front of me. Man, he had to have had some sort of defense training with a stance like that. I did a double take at his hand. It was metal. Whoa.

Mr. Creepy laughed at Mr. Nice Guy. “What are you going to do, shorty?”

“Listen, I’ve shot prime ministers faster than you can blink. I’d back up if I were you.”

My eyes got wide as I processed what Mr. Nice Guy said. What was he? Some international master assassin amputee? Anyway, Mr. Creepy obviously was freaked out the statement and he did back away, but not without saying something stupid.

“You’re fucked up, man.”

“And so are you.”

Mr. Nice Guy turned to me. “Sorry about him. That shouldn’t happen,” He stuck out his nonmetal hand. “I’m Bucky Barnes.” I took his hand. He had a firm grip.

“I’m Tera King. Hi.”

“Hi there, Tera. May I ask where your stop is? I don’t want Weird Ass over there following you.”

I smiled at Bucky’s consideration. “I have a four o'clock meeting at the Avengers Tower so I’m getting off in three stops.”

“Are you Tony Stark’s four o'clock?” Bucky asked he question with a lot of excitement, shuffling towards me a bit, his eyes lighting up. Wait? He knew my appointment? I came to a realization.

“You’re the guy Tony wanted me to meet! Oh my gosh, hi!” I squeaked, forgetting about Mr. Creepy and instinctively going for a hug, and thank god Bucky was nice enough to let me give him one. I pulled back and tucked a straying black curl behind my ear. Bucky shifted on his feet, staring at his shoes.

“Um… Tony never actually told me what was going on, he said that there was quote-on-quote ‘absolutely amazing young woman’ that I had to meet today.” I felt so flattered by Tony’s words. “So, why are we heading to the Tower?”

I tapped the top of my thigh, my nail making a hollow ting when in hit the metal underneath my jeans. “I’m getting this thing replaced.” That’s when Bucky seemed to notice that I was missing a foot, a whole leg actually. Where my right leg should have been, I had a series of metal parts hooked together to form the best makeshift leg possible. It was soon going to be replaced by the work of Tony Stark.

“That explains why Tony wanted us to meet.” Bucky said, folding his arms and leaning against the side of the swaying subway car.


Bucky tapped his left shoulder and I heard a slight ring. “I got this thing replaced.”

The subway car lurched to a stop as people got off. I noticed Mr. Creepy must’ve left while Bucky and I were talking. We made small talk as we rode further. I found out Bucky was employed with the Avengers, and that he was best friends with Captain America.

The sub came to our stop, then we exited onto the busy New York streets. I saw the Avengers Tower glittering in the bright daylight. It seemed to be only a short distance away from the subway station and so we headed off in that direction. Once we arrived, we were immediately ushered upstairs.

Tony was waiting for us as the elevator doors opened.

“Tera, Mr. Barnes, I see you two have already met. Good.”

I stepped tentatively out onto the floor of Tony’s workspace where I’d only been a few times before. I looked around at the clutter on the tables and wondered how Tony could keep track of all this. As if he read my mind, Tony snapped his fingers and the messy papers disappeared off the tables. Of course they were holographic. Why didn’t you think of that, Tera?

“Tera, please change so when Bruce gets here we can start.”

“Yes sir.” I headed into the bathroom down the hall to slip off my jeans (what the hell they could bare to see me in my underwear) and take my spaghetti strap off from under my hoodie, leaving me with a sports bra. I stuffed my clothes into my bag and attempted to clear what I could of my Afro from my face, though my brown blonde curls refused to cooperate with me.

Eventually, I wandered back to the workspace, which has been turned into a operation room a matter of minutes. Tony, and Bucky, now joined by Bruce Banner, were looking at a projection of my files on a screen.

“But what happened?” I heard Bucky asked as I neared the guys.

“IED explosion, Iraq 2008. That was her last tour with the Army.” Banner read directly from the file. I almost shivered with the memory.

“What’s her rank?”

“Sergeant, just like you. She was also an All-American track star.” Bucky was a sergeant? He didn’t tell me that. I mean, it never came up but I was wearing an Army hoodie on the subway. I’d have to find out more about Bucky. He seemed like such a nice person, and it’d be cool to get to know him better.

I cleared my throat and the guys whipped around. Bucky dropped the pen he was holding in his metal hand and looked me up and down, his eyes not missing a single inch of visible skin. All of the sudden I was very self conscious about the mere bra and underwear I had on. Maybe it was the burn marks and scars crisscrossing my skin that Bucky was staring at.

“Gentlemen, are we ready to start?”

The hard part was trying to get my leg off without any help but also without falling over. I tried several times with no avail, and Tony eventually got aggravated with me wasting time. “Banner, hold her leg down and Buck, help her get out of it.”

Bruce leaned down and held the bottom nob of my prosthetic leg while Bucky wrapped a strong arm around my waist to help me stay balanced. I grabbed his free hand and he held it to his chest so I wouldn’t go stumbling forward. I wriggled a bit and my prosthetic fell to the floor. My body moved down with the sensation of being free and Bucky pulled me to him to keep me upright. “Easy, easy there, Tera.”

Bucky helped me hobble over to the operation table where Tony started sticking shit in my veins and examining the sliver that remained of my leg.

“Why’d you want us to meet?”

“You’re the only two people I know with your certain… metallic enhancements.” Tony said. I laughed at his response. I wasn’t sure 'enhancements’ was the term to be using though.

I felt a huge sting in my leg as Banner injected something into the stump. “Fuck, what was that?”

“Neurotransmitters. They’re going to connect with your leg and your brain so it can work just like the other one.”

I felt myself getting excited for this experience. I was going to be able to run and walk without a limp and I could bend my knees at the same time.

Tony pressed some sort of sensor to my temple, and a feeling of cool washed over me as I laid back, and passed the fuck out.

When I came to, Bucky was holding my hand. I let him hold it for a while. He was rubbing his thumb back a forth, leaving a warm path on the back of my hand. It seemed like just a natural gesture. I stirred and he let it go. “You were only out for fifteen minutes.”

“Nice,” I looked around the empty workshop. “Where’s Tony and Bruce?” My miracle workers were no where to be seen.

“They said they’d be back in an hour.” Tony said to tell you to wiggle your toes.“

Toes. It was funny to think that now I had ten of them. I looked down at my toes, my five epidermis covered ones, and then my five steel-titanium ones. I studied my new leg. It looked like someone had taken my left leg, cloned it into a right one, and painted over it with a reflective material. My new leg had no gaps in it, and I could feel even weight on both sides of my body for the first time in a very long time.

I wiggled my toes. The metal ones moved and I felt it.

I felt my all toes move for the first time in eight years. Bursting into tears isn’t the normal reaction for wiggling your toes, but I felt like the happiest person in the world. I could be again. I could walk and run and do normal people things with my body now. It was a dream come true.

Bucky grabbed my hand again. "Even though I met you about two hours ago, I am so happy for you, Tera.”

“Thank you.” I managed to choke out between sobs. I was grateful for the support. Bucky just smiled at me. We sat like this for several minutes, hands clasped together and me in tears.

Eventually, I got up and started testing my new leg. I did some yoga, a few exercises, a couple of ballet steps, and some running. My new leg kept up with the other one as if it was always there, sometimes moving in flexible ways that my real leg could not. Bucky just sat back and watched with a transfixed grin on his face.

Tony and Bruce came back and I burst into tears again with thanks and hugs for the amazing men who had helped me feel normal again.

Bucky held the door open for me as I exited the Tower about an half an hour after we did some more tests on my leg. “Are you hungry?”


“Good. There’s a deli in Brooklyn with some killer sandwiches.”

“Oh, so you’re a Brooklyn boy?”

Bucky shook his head. “Yes, that and a lot of other things. I’ll tell you about it on the way there. Come on.” He took my hand, leading me out into the busy crowds of New York.

This is just some of my writing. If you want to suggest something I might write it. I’m in a lot of other fandoms (5sos, 1d, Harry Potter, Percy Jackson, teen wolf, divergent, the hunger games, the maze runner, etc.) besides the Avengers so you can suggest things from other fandoms too.

officialhairdyemgc cliffordcuddl3s this is what I was telling yall I was writing.