#trying to buy a sports bra by just kind of cupping her hands at the

[ssaalexblake]

big finish audio of Yaz taking 13 to get her ear pierced in the interlude in twwfte and them having to go back to the same person in claire’s to get it done 8 times because the regeneration energy keeps healing her ear every time she gets it done 

[bearw-me]

Hellooooo! You write Lute so well (the best in my humble opinion), sooo I figured you'd be the best person to bring this request to🖤

Could i request a lute x girlfriend!reader where they used to be long-term best friends, but during the friendship reader was convinced she was straight bc she'd never been attracted to a woman before Lute.

Now they're in a new relationship and Lute is helping her girlfriend come to terms with her sexual orientation/identity as a bisexual. Or a lute-sexual considering Lute's still the only woman she's ever had an attraction to 💀

*Bonus points if reader expresses that she's afraid she won't be a good girlfriend considering she'd only been with 1 man before her and doesn't know how to "properly treat" a woman (She treats Lute great as a gf and a friend, poor thing's just new to this)*

Lmbo imagine reader just having bi-panic anytime she interacted with Lute during their friendship Or getting flustered anytime Lute did anything remotely attractive during their relationship

Thank youuuuu! Also random question: who's your fav character in Hazbin?

ty for such kind words! :')

+ fav hazbin character isss- lets say husk (i feel a kinship with him lol, plus i LOVE keith davis's voice) i also adore angel and adam <3

𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬? — 𝐋𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐇𝐜𝐬

𐐒 ft : lute x girlfriend!reader 𐐒 cw : fluff, slight angst, lute makes you blush as per usual 𐐒 summary : lute assures you she's happy-more than happy- to be with you, despite being the first woman you've ever dated + drabble at the end :) 𐐒 note : lute-sexual is SO relatable

Lute just holding both sides of your face, squishing you while she reassures you that: "You are an amazing girlfriend"

She sighs, "Don't be stupid."

she's always trying to physically smoosh the sentiment into you, either with her kisses or by holding you down and affirming you.

Lute is very gentle, emotionally speaking. She understands the new-raw emotions you must be feeling, being in a relationship with a woman for the first time.

If you're having a hard time coming to terms with your sexuality, Lute can wait as long as it takes.

You're both in the same boat: She's never been in a relationship, and you've never been with a woman.

As her best-friend, you try to be there for her through laughs and sorrows.

Eyeing her curves and respecting her brilliance in battle. . . her ability to not be talked down to no matter the foe.

For all those years you lusted for her. . . you mistook the feelings for friendly support, ignoring the way you'd blush when you watched her come back from training: A sports bra, and long martial arts shorts adorning her heavenly body. The muscles around her back built to shoulder the burden of wings, and a strong core to match.

A literal form build by god. . . the sight making you tremble with nerves.

And. . . now you were with her.

Lute adores all the thoughtful gifts you give her throughout the day. It makes her smile, silently treasuring the things you buy or find for her.

In a relationship, I think Lute can already tell whenever you become flustered by her or overwhelmed.

For example: she takes her shirt off and turns to you, watching you tremble and bury your burning face into your hands, attempting to hide it from her but peeking through your fingers.

She thinks its the cutest fucking thing in the world.

"Lute? How can I even be a good girlfriend for you? I don't... I don't know how to..." You manage to spit out as she walks over to the bed your sitting on.

She smiles softly, crawling over to sit on your lap, cupping your face in her hands to stop you from hiding.

"Babe, you're a fucking great girlfriend," she assures you.

And Lute revels in your beauty, holding your face and running her thumbs over your cheeks, and committing every bump and blemish to memory.

"Kiss me?" You ask her happily, almost like a puppy.

And its Lute's turn to blush, her face bursting into a fiery red bliss, tackling you backward onto the bed in an attempt to distract.

[oreoambitions]

Supercorp and 29 for that prompt post!👉🏻👈🏻

Things you said in the rain:

Lena is out in the rain before she's given the situation much rational thought. It's not just raining, it's pouring, and she's left her umbrella, her book, and her drink all on the table at the coffee shop, but it doesn't matter doesn't matter doesn't matter anymore. She'll buy another umbrella. Another copy of the book. The latte is ashes in her mouth just now anyway. Behind her in her favorite rosy succulent studded coffee shop, William smiles his perfect dazzling smile at Kara, and Kara smiles back at him, and Lena isn't looking at them but she can imagine it so clearly and the last thing she needs is to turn around and confirm that this is all really happening. She stumbles a few steps down the sidewalk, across the street without looking, a few steps further so that when she looks back at the coffee shop she can no longer see the two of them standing at the register.

Fuck. All she wanted was a cozy Saturday afternoon to herself. A quiet afternoon. Lattes with lavender and honey, that flaky blueberry danish for which she'd first visited this place months ago, hours and hours alone with her book amid the rumble and bustle of the city.

What she got was a front row seat to Kara's dating life, an in-person confirmation of the social media rumors that have surrounded Kara and William for weeks now, and she feels like she's going to throw up. The realization that she's shaking is sudden and wrenches a sharp laugh from her throat, prompting passerby to cut a wider berth around her. Life is such a joke. A cruel, stupid, senseless joke. It figures that Lena would win back Kara's friendship, work up the courage to maybe, possibly, potentially ask her on an Actual Date, and immediately lose her to someone like William Dey.

The cynical, protective side of her whispers that if that's Kara's type, she never stood a chance anyway. It was wishful thinking, working up that courage. Real life doesn't work that way; Lena has known that for a long time and she's more the fool for forgetting it where Kara is concerned.

But it's so easy to forget when Kara's around. When it comes to Kara, Lena wants to forget every one of life's hard earned lessons. All the more reason to keep them at the forefront of her mind.

Lena is still standing there, shaking, drenched, gazing out at nothing. Well, she can't stand here forever. She fumbles for her phone, tries to swipe the unlock with wet fingers, but touchscreens and water aren't friends, and damn it all to hell. She'll have to get dry before she can call a car. She'll have to-

A warm jacket falls across her shoulders and the smell of Kara washes over her. Kara comes around in front of her to pull the jacket more closely around her, to brush a wet strand of hair from Lena's face.

"Hey," she says. "Hey, are you- Of course you're not okay. You're crying."

"I'm not crying," Lena snaps, but Kara is right. Somewhere between her laughter and the realization that her phone is useless outside in a storm, the tears have arrived.

"What happened?" Kara asks. "Rao, we should get you inside; you're shivering."

The thought of going inside, back to that stupid coffee shop, back to William, makes Lena feel physically ill. She pulls Kara's jacket possessively around her even as she grumbles that she doesn't need it, that Kara is getting drenched. Not that it matters to Kara, as impervious to the cold as she is to bullets and sometimes to common sense. "I'm fine," Lena mutters. "I just need to call a car home."

Kara reaches for her phone. "Is your phone dead? I can call-"

"No," Lena interrupts. "No, it's fine. I don't want to interrupt your- your date. I'm sorry, just- Thank you for the jacket; I'll have it cleaned."

Kara's brows knit. She reaches forward to hold Lena at the elbow, reaches up with the other hand to brush another lock of hair away. "What are you doing out here?"

Lena recognizes the change of subject for what it is: Kara is trying to take another route to the answers she wants, trying to work around Lena's refusal to talk. She recognizes the tactic, and she recognizes that Kara hasn't denied that she's on a date, and she spits out, "This is my favorite coffee shop. Or it was."

Kara glances back across the street to where, presumably, William is waiting for her. Her brow furrows further. "I didn't know that," she says. "William and I were just looking for somewhere a little more... discreet. Than Noonan's, I mean. We didn't want anyone to see us together."

Together. And there it is. Lena steps back, wrenching her elbow from Kara's grasp, and looks away. "He seems very nice," she lies. "I hope you two are very happy together."

"Lena, I- What?" Kara tips her head to one side, a visible calculus taking place in her expression. "William and I aren't- Oh! This is a work date, not a date date. Lena, do you honestly think I'd be on a real, like, boyfriend-vetting date dressed like this? Look at me."

As if Lena can help looking at Kara when she's standing out here in a downpour. The water has turned her pale blue buttondown nearly sheer, and it clings to her in all the right places, accenting muscled shoulders and the shadow of a sports bra and the shape of toned obliques. Her chinos are cut just tight enough to make Lena want to run her palms up those thighs, across the hip bones just visible where her shirt is tucked in.

Lena licks her lips and drags her eyes back to Kara's face, the last flicker of all that summoned courage bright in her chest when she says, "I think you look absolutely stunning dressed like this. Handsome. Beautiful. I- I would love it if you'd dress like this for a date. With me, I mean."

Kara's mouth falls open a little, and a soft flush creeps across her cheeks. "I'd uhm. I'd dress up a little more. For a date with you, specifically." And then her eyes widen as realization dawns. "Are you- Were you in the coffee shop just now? Did you - Are you out here in the rain because you thought William and I were- Oh, Rao, Lena." She steps forward again and, when Lena doesn't move to maintain the distance between them, she grasps Lena gently by the biceps and pulls her just one half step closer so that Lena has to look up a little to meet her eyes.

"He clearly adores you," Lena chokes out. It's not like it's a secret; surely everyone in National City has noticed by now that William wants nothing more than he wants than Kara Danvers on his arm.

"Yes," Kara confirms. "But we're here working on a project we - Rao, I shouldn't be telling you this - we're submitting an article under a pseudonym to another publication, and we didn't want anyone at CatCo to see us working on it. And for the record he did ask me out a couple of weeks ago, and I said no. No hard feelings. It's just- I mean you're right, he is very nice when he wants to be, but I have my eye on someone else."

Lena's heart tries to swoop and crumple at the same time.

"Well whoever it is should consider themselves very lucky to-"

Kara darts forward with a kiss, chaste and light against her lips, then lingers there a moment while Lena catches up. “Sorry,” she whispers, “It’s just- You weren’t gonna ask who it was, and I didn’t know how else to tell you, and I- I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t try that at least once.” Lena opens her mouth to answer but nothing comes out. Kara just kissed her. Kara. Out here in the rain in front of just anyone who might be walking by, Kara Danvers kissed- Is kissing her, because when Lena doesn't move away Kara leans in again to capture her bottom lip. She slides her hands up Lena's arms, fingertips dancing across her neck, to cup her face. Lena finds purchase on Kara's hips and tugs, willing her to move closer, and she does, pulling Lena's body flush against her even as she licks into her mouth.

Lena is shaking now for reasons entirely unrelated to jealousy or grief or the rain. Kara is so warm warm warm against her, and her tongue is sliding across Lena's, and one hand is pressed now to the small of Lena's back encouraging her impossibly closer still, and Lena thinks she may have died. She may have actually been hit by a car on her way across the street and maybe this is the hallucination she's having in the seconds before brain function ceases because there's just no way that Kara is really kissing her, and there's just no way that Kara kissing her is really this good.

Kara has a fistful of Lena's hoodie and she tugs on it when she whimpers against Lena's lips, when she slides her hand from Lena's cheek to the back of her neck, when Lena boldly demands entrance to her mouth in turn. When they break away it's only to rest against one another, forehead to forehead, mouths swollen, tasting one another's labored breath. Lena reaches up to trace her thumb across Kara's cheekbone, and she's got her eyes closed but she imagines anyway that she's drawing lines between her freckles like constellations in the sky. Lord knows she's long since memorized them all. She drags her thumb across Kara's bottom lip and sighs.

"Wasn't expecting that," she whispers.

Kara lets out a soft laugh. "So can I have that date then?" she murmurs. "I promise I'll wear something a little nicer. Maybe a vest."

Lena's mouth goes a little dry at the thought of Kara in formal men's wear. "Friday?"

"I was hoping you'd say tonight," Kara says. "Don't really want to wait. Kind of a lot I'd like to do with you that you uhm. That you aren't really supposed to do before the first date. Or maybe the third date."

Lena nearly chokes on air. "Like what?" she asks, praying that Kara's eyes are also closed, that she can't see deep flush spreading across Lena's skin at the thought of all the things Kara might be referring to. She's thinking about the bedroom, about Kara's vest haphazard on the floor, about undoing every button on that shirt, chasing fumbling fingers with her tongue, when Kara whispers her answer.

"Like tell you that I love you," she says. "That I'm in love with you, and I want to be with you, and to belong to you, and to-"

Lena cuts her off with another kiss and a soft chuckle, half at Kara's earnestness and half at herself. "Dinner at six then," she says. "You wear that vest and I promise you, I'll make you mine by the end of the night."

Kara swallows hard and Lena smirks. Kara’s words are sweet, but maybe Lena's not the only one with less than innocent intentions after all. /// Thank you for the ask!

[kurt-nightcrawler]

How to know if the lost girls have a crush on you

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐰𝐚𝐩! 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Warnings: mentions of drug use and language

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: I know requests aren’t open jddndjdj but I enjoy writing for the lost girls so enjoy!!

Darcy

Darcy is a sucker for romance

She’s a bit shy and awkward, despite her semi-scary looking demeanor 

(She’s 6’0 and has resting bitch face)

Darcy isn’t going to be super obvious or up-front about her feelings at first though

It will be the cliche “we’ve been friends for 10 years and everyone knows we like each other except us” 

Darcy will always have a hand on you. She wants to feel your presence 

subtle touches, little “pinky holding” or her playing with strands of your hair

Her poking any freckles you have when she first discovers them

You’re one of the few people she let’s mess with her hair. Which is a telling sign

“Your hair looks nice Darce” “thanks, (Y/N) did it” “oh worm? 👀” 

She loves having you run your hands through her hair, it soothes her

Sometimes, if you can’t make it to the cave— bad weather, car trouble, etc.— shell come over and you guys watch a movie together

Darcy’s got an extensive tape collection of rom-coms, so she’ll pop one into the tv and snuggle under covers with you

She’s probably going to ask to borrow your clothes if she’s “really cold” since she exclusively wears sports bras and her leather jacket

Also she likes that your sweaters and sweatshirts smell like you 

But you’ll definitely have to have been friends for awhile before she even CONSIDERS telling you how she feels

“I live forever. I have to be sure about my feelings and what if I get rejected?” “Anyone who rejects you is stupid. Almost stupid as Michelle—“ “HEY!” 

But overtime she’ll try to make things more obvious— to the point where Pauline and Marcella are teasing you both and then she kind of HAS to come clean

But you find it sweet! 

And a bit shocking, someone as powerful and strong and amazing and gorgeous as her, has feelings for YOU??? damn okay babe 

Dominique 

Dom is going to be a bit cold at first

It’s not necessarily intentional, but she just has this aura of mystery around her

Those icy blue eyes that peer into your soul

And anyway she wants to get to know what you like and if you like her

If not, she can’t exactly force you 

Cough cough Michelle cough cough

 Anyway, Dominique will try to learn about the things you like so you have something to talk about

Even if they aren’t her cup of tea. She’s a good listener and likes seeing your face light up and you so passionate about a subject/hobby

Dom is going to steal buy you things she thinks you’d like

“You said you liked cherry chapstick. I got you some.” “I got you some chips and your favorite soda in case you’re hungry” “Here. I saw this giant care bear and thought of you.”

It’s sweet, but you feel a bit flustered and embarrassed, not giving her anything in return

“Seeing you smile is enough, Kitten”

Speaking of! Pet names! 

Dominique finds using your full/actual name too personal

So if you have a nickname she’ll use it. If not she’s given you pet names— most notable are Kitten and Pumpkin

She’s not big on physical touch but sometimes she’ll put the idea of it into your mind so you want it

She won’t manipulate you, but she wants you to come to her. She’s had too many bad experiences where she confessed first, and she doesn’t want another one

So when you do finally confess to her she’s all smug and knowing

“I um… I really like you… and uh well—“ “I know.” “Oh…” “I like you too.”  “Oh!”

 Marcella

She’s going to be playful and flirty with you but quick to deny anything the other girls accuse her of

“No I don’t have feelings for (Y/N)! Shut up!” “Haha you so do!”

She’s rowdy and high energy but also more quiet than Pauline

So she’s not going to just blurt it out or recite sonnets for you

Instead she’ll give you a patch she was going to put on her jacket. Or make you a cool little pin

She’ll constantly hype you up if you’re wanting to try new fashion styles or wear something out of your comfort zone

“You look amazing! Better than any girl out on the boardwalk” “You really think so?” “I would never lie to you. Honest.” 

She’ll let you braid her hair and stick all kinds of colorful little clips and barrettes in her curls 

(I know they weren’t popular until the 90s but imagining covering her hair in hundreds of little butterfly clips!) 

Honestly she’ll be like those movie scenes where “do you like it?” *it’s hideous* “if not you don’t have to wear it!” “No. I’m never taking it off.” 

She asks you to help care for her pigeons so you guys can bond together more

“Does Pauline or Sebastian usually help you feed them?” “No. No one does. I don’t let them.” “Oh…”

If someone upsets you she's ready to go and have them as her meal for the night

Sometimes you have to stop her

“Look! Cathy from my work is a total bitch but you can’t kill her! I won’t have anyone to cover my shift tomorrow”

“Fine… You're lucky I love you”

“What?”

“What?” 

She’d probably accidentally tell you and then act like she has no idea what you could be talking about

“Well I like you too. But I dunno… Dom’s pretty cute too—“ 

“Oh that’s it!” She’s definitely smothering you in little kisses and tickling you, getting you say you’re sorry and say you think she’s the cutest

 Pauline

She’s just going to blurt it out point blank. 

Why wait? If Pauline likes someone, she likes someone! She may be immortal but she’s also immortally impatient 

She tells you she likes you so much you start to think she’s kidding

But she’s not! 

She’ll bring you baked goods edibles and take you out to concerts and maybe steal your shoelace to wear on her wrist

Sometimes you’ll have little “sleepovers” and you’ll hangout at the cave. Usually this means sharing a joint and watching her play songs on her guitar

She’s definitely not exclusively playing romantic songs for you

One night she’ll get high and just pour her heart out to you

“And I think you’re one of the coolest people I’ve ever met, and I’ve met a lot of people, babe… And sure, I’m definitely a bit ditzy but I’m not completely stupid! I know you don’t believe me, but I really really like you! I think about you a lot and I hate when you have to leave right before the sun rises. And on nights you can’t hangout with us it’s so boring! We do the same things every night, but you always make them special. I really like you babe… I really really like you…”

She’ll wanna take you out on a little date to one of the small bands playing on the boardwalk and you’ll both dance together and she’ll be real giddy and excited and probably kiss you but it’s really messy and quick because she was just so wrapped up in the music! 

 Michelle

She’s really obvious

Like, staring at you with heart eyes when she first sees you out on the boardwalk

She’ll try to not-so-subtly follow you around. She’s not being creepy, but she just wants to admire your beauty 

She thinks she’ll never see you again

Imagine her surprise when she sees you again! 

“Told you! She probably lives around town” “Shut up Sam!” 

You’ll eventually confront her and ask what her deal is

“Oh! Uh, um, well, I just— I... like... your outfit?...” 

She’s bad at coming up with an alibi

“thanks. I get most of my clothes at the thrift store away from the boardwalk. Wanna join sometime?” “Uh yeah! Sounds good!” 

She’s going to do some dumb things to impress you— racing on her bike, getting more piercings, dressing in lots of leather, offering to buy you food— but you think it’s cute

She’ll follow you around like a lost puppy at times, partially cause she’s new in town

Sam likes you though!

When you and Michelle hangout, you’ve usally got the braincell and you don’t tease Sam for liking comics so much

“No Samantha, I’m not taking you to the comic shop” “Aww Sammy I will!” “Thanks (Y/N)! You’re the best”

Honestly you knew the whole time she liked you! You had moments of doubt but she’s always so obvious about it. Once you even swore she drooled over you

A bit gross, but you were also eating ice cream so…

Visiting her at work! She’s a lifeguard down at the beach! She’s definitely trying to get you visit her ;) and go swim and sunbathe ;) maybe have her “perform cpr” on you ;)

But you’d still have to make the first move if you wanted it to go any further 

 Sebastian 

He’s got this aura of mystery around him 

But he’ll steal glances if he spots you in the crowd, thinking you’re cute

The lost girls will want him to bring you back to the cave

He will, but not for awhile

It will be small one on one hangouts and dancing together on the boardwalk 

Walking in and out of shops, saying you’ll buy things but you never will

Sebastian will offer to pierce your ears and paint your nails 

Night swimming together! 

Sebastian definitely has really floral swim trunks, almost like tacky dad Hawaiian shirt print 

He’ll do the thing where he’s under water for a long time and then jump up and scare you

Once you meet the girls you’re all playing games together like sharks and minnows, chicken

Sebastian always wants to team up with you though. Even if teams aren’t a part of the game

He likes to read. He’ll spend a good amount of time at the bookstore on the boardwalk, staying there for hours reading books, and leaving with a whole stack

If YOU have a book he wants to read/borrow he will definitely maybe leave a little sticky note in it as a thank you

“thank you! ur sweet :D <3” 

Laura will love you!! 

She’s very close to Sebastian and everyone thinks they’re siblings, and they most definitely have the dynamic 

So if Laura likes you, Sebastian will definitely like you. I mean, he already does, Laura just kind of seals the deal, ya know?

Dominique and Pauline will be the most blunt about Sebastian’s feelings for you

“He’s like Darcy. Not necessarily the most obvious but you can tell” 

“It’s so obvious. He like, talks about you all the time when you aren’t around and he’s got this real love sick look in his eyes”

Dominique is going to interrogate you to see if you’re “worthy” or not of Sebastian. 

“Sebastian is my— our friend— like a brother almost. Hurt him and I will kill you :) that is a promise” 

Once she deems you good enough she’s going to push Seb into asking you out. “You guys already go on enough ‘dates’ just make it official” “no” “-_-“ “hhh fine”

Sebastian is going to be really simple with it but also kind of coy and shy. He’s nervous. He’s much rather you asked him out or confessed your feelings but he’s willing to go first. He finds himself trying to compete and keep up with the girls. He’s the only boy, and while it may not matter he doesn’t want to seem weak and pathetic while they’re big strong vampires

Anyway once he tells you how he feels he’s all red in the face and nervous!! Poor boy

He’ll constantly ask to kiss you all the time, worried maybe you don’t want him to but you’re always reassuring “yes, Seb. you can have a kiss” “thank you” 

[kaywinchester]

Shopping Spree

anon request: Hiya Kay! Hope all is with you you and your readers during this time of self isolation.Got a cutesy, and yes, very funny idea for u in which S & D spend time @ the mall w/ their sis, set specifically inside a lingerie store( ex. Victoria Secret). Needless to say, embarrassment(@sis's expanse) & hilarity ensue in which D models bras, offer non helpful suggestions to sis, and just acts like a real dork, while S appears MAJORLY uncomfortable/embarrassed by the whole thing. Can be as silly as u want

Word Count: 1,200

A/N: I honestly did not know what to call this fic lol. But two fics being posted within a week.....!! Finishing up some old requests so once I'm done with those I will open requests again! Also thought this gif was perfect XD

It had been a few days since any of you had found any recent hunting leads, and you desperately needed to get out of the bunker for a while. You know your brothers did too, but you've been around them all week and decided to take yourself on a little shopping trip. It wasn't that often that you got to spoil yourself with new clothes, you thought it would be a nice outing, until Dean had to be nosy.

“Hey, you wanna watch this movie with Sammy and I? Pretty sure this is the uncut version too.” Dean snarked as he held up the dvd case.

“Sounds fun, but I’m actually gonna go on a little shopping trip.” You said as you packed your wallet into your bag. 

“Oh, uh we can tag along with you...” Dean suggested.

“That’s okay, I kind of just need to get out for a while.” You declined politely.

“That makes 3 of us. We’ve all been cooped up in here when were not out hunting. Let’s make it a trip!” Dean cheered.

“Uh, actually-”

“Hey Sammy!” Dean cut you off as he went to fetch Sam.

“Ugh, you've got to be kidding me.” You muttered as you grabbed your stuff.

You three drove to the mall that was a little far, but it had a variety of stores to shop from so you didn't mind. You just didn't think you would have your older brothers tagging along with you. And from your past experience, Sam and Dean hated going shopping, unless it was something in their interest. So you guessed they must've been pretty desperate to get out of the house. But, you weren't gonna let that stop you from enjoying your shopping trip.

You started with a few of your favorite clothing stores, browsing in a few of then you finally found the one that carried stuff more your style. Picking out a couple of shirts and jeans, you turned to your brothers that had been following you around as they ate their mall pretzels. 

“I’m gonna try these on, why don't you guys go look for some things that you like?” You suggested, trying to get them out of your hair for a while.

“Fine. Meet us back by the food court in an hour.” Dean finally agreed.

You tried on a few tops, flannels, and some jeans. Then realizing you could really use some new bras. You wanted a few that you could wear while you weren't hunting, something other than sports bras.

After purchasing the few outfits, you made your way over to the food court. Sam and Dean were sitting on one of the couches with drinks in their hand.

“Did you guys get more food?” You asked, kind of hoping they got something for you.

“Uh, no. Just these.” Dean motioned to his drink cup.

“Sure.... look I wanted to stop by one more store so I’ll be back here in about 30 minutes.” 

“No, c’mon we’ve been sitting here for 30 minutes.” Dean whined.

“Did you guys even buy anything?” You motioned to the bag.

“Yeah, this.” Sam handed you the bag. You pulled out a package out of the Spencers gifts bag and looked it over to see that Dean had bought a fake pile of vomit for pranks.

“Why did you show her?” Dean said with disappointment. 

“Because it’s stupid and she probably wouldn't fall for it anyway.” Sam sighed.

“Whatever, I’ll be back in a bit.” You scoffed.

“Don’t worry, we’re coming with you.” Dean said as he hoisted himself up from the couch.

You knew you weren’t gonna convince your giant twelve year old brothers to sit still any longer so you just kept walking to the underwear store that you wanted to go to. 

“Uh, Dean let’s just wait out here, I don't think she’ll be too long.” Sam huffed as he saw that you went into the Victoria’s Secret.

“Dude, what are you embarrassed? It’s just a store.” Dean nudged Sam as he walked in.

Sam sighed and just followed Dean, not wanting to awkwardly wait outside the store by himself. 

You walked through the aisles and looked at the mannequins and saw a few lace bras that you thought looked comfortable. Grabbing a few, you turned around and saw to your surprise that your brothers had followed you in there.

“Sheesh, how many bras does a girl need?” Dean joked around looking around.

“However many she wants.” You said, not letting your awkward older brothers embarrass you. “I’m gonna go try a few things on.” You motioned to the fitting rooms.

Dean continued to walk around with a very uncomfortable Sam following closely behind. He started looking through the drawers and found a bra with spikes on it, Dean grabbed it and put it around his chest.

“Like what you see, Sammy?” Dean joked.

“Can you put that down.” Sam whispered as he saw a few stares.

“Guess not.” Dean laughed. Once you came out of the fitting room you looked around for a while. Dean showed you his cool find.

“You should get this one, Y/N.” Dean suggested sarcastically.

“Looks like something you'd find at hot topic.” You laughed. Sam rolled his eyes.

Dean started trying on more stuff that was within reach. “Hey I didn't know they sold more stuff besides underwear here.” He said as he put on a pair of girly sunglasses.

“I can't take you anymore.” Sam told Dean as he walked out swiftly.

“What’s up with him?” You asked.

“Who knows. Probably crabby that I dragged him in here. Anyway, you almost done? I kinda wanna get back.” Dean looked at his watch.

“Yeah, and so much for getting you two out of the house.” You laughed as you turned to go wait in line.

....................

You walked out of the store with your bags in your hands. “You ready to go?”

“Yes.” Sam said abruptly.

“Aw, do you feel all awkward?” You teased him.

“No, just wanna get back.” Sam lied. You and Dean looked at each other and silently laughed to one another.

Who knew shopping with your brothers would take so much energy, and embarrassment on Sam’s end.

You drove home since it was your idea to go out. Dean rarely let you drive baby, but he was in a good mood and made an exception. Dean adjusted his long limbs in the back seat, trying to get comfortable.

“So, with what you just bought, who are you planning to wear all that for.....” Dean spoke up.

“Myself actually, if you should be so nosy.” Rolling your eyes at Dean’s overprotective ways.

“It better be for yourself....” Dean trailed off with sarcasm.

“Shut up, Dean. They're just clothes. Can’t a girl feel good for once, it’s not that often I go shopping.” You retorted.

“Whatever you say.” Dean said.

You let out a sigh as you kept your eyes on the road. You hoped to Chuck that you could get out by yourself sooner or later. These brothers of yours could be too much at times, but damn you were grateful for them either way. No matter how dorky they were....

Requests Are Closed

Taglist:

@jackjackljaqui ​@hunting-the-grievers @susan-is-in-the-house@flirtyonsie @mersuperwholocked-lowlife @justsomedreaming 

[angrylizardjacket]

the band with no name {Douglas Booth} Part 3

A/N: 3050 words. Is this good? i genuinely don’t know.

[PART 2]

----

“I’m not getting a tattoo,” Douglas tells Colson flatly on Friday, still using his Nikki accent, arms crossed in between takes. They’re milling around on the Starwood set for the band’s first gig, and Douglas is in a pair of bright red, plastic boots with a considerable heel, that come all the way up his thighs, and pinch his toes. He’s already in a mood, he doesn’t need Colson’s shit-eating grin.

“I never said -” Colson tries, but he’s still grinning, can’t help himself.

“You implied,” Douglas frowns, shifting his weight on his feet. It didn’t help, “I’m not just going to show up where she works and pretend like I’m going to be a customer, that’s- it’s disingenuous, man,” the English accent slips out a little, but he corrects himself quickly, “and it’s stalking.”

“It’s not stalking -”

“It is if I’m not going to actually get a tattoo,” Douglas raises his eyebrows, watching as Colson spins idly on his drum stool.

“Fine, I’ll get a tattoo, and you can come for moral support or whatever,” he shrugs.

“Still kind of sounds like stalking,” Daniel adds from the edge of the stage, where he’s patiently sitting while a makeup assistant applies fake blood to his cheek. Beside her stands Jonah, the production assistant, diligently holding the bottle cap full of red liquid she was working from. They share a quietly amused look before Jonah glances at Colson, and the woman goes back to work.

“He’s not wrong,” Jonah agrees, and Colson throws his head back with an exasperated groan.

“And Corey said he’d personally skin you if you got any tattoos during filming,” the makeup assistant reminded him. Colson swore under his breath, scowling at the memory, but conceding defeat.

“When’s her gig?” Iwan asked from where he’d been sitting on his amp, texting and drinking water.

“Saturday,” Douglas said with an immediate smile. Thankfully no-one was looking at him enough to call him on it.

“Where?” Daniel asks, a hint of mischief in his voice.

“Around,” Douglas answered evasively, expression souring almost immediately.

“Is that a club, or...?” Colson asks, trying to be discrete where he was pulling out his phone. Douglas kind of regrets roping any of them into this.

“Where she’s playing doesn’t matter, because none of you are going, okay?”

“Come on, man, don’t you trust us?” Said by Colson, trying his best to pull off puppy-dog eyes in his Tommy Lee costume and hair, is the absolute last thing that would help Doulgas trust him, or any of them.

“Absolutely not,” though he’s smiling a little at their antics.

“You’re the one who wanted our help,” Daniel throws over his shoulder, and the makeup assistant tells him to stay still.

“You assholes couldn’t keep your noses in your own business; I didn’t ask for any of this.”

“They’re playing Casa Cristo at ten tomorrow night,” Colson announces, blatantly ignoring Douglas, whose whole expression has scrunched into something sour by the time Colson looks back up. He holds out his phone, showing off a photo of your band with the date and time superimposed over it, “it’s on their story.” He says by way of explanation.

“How far away is that?” Iwan asks, and the makeup assistant pauses, and looks to Jonah.

“Fifteen minute drive?” She asks, and they confirm with a nod. Douglas’ dawning horror is kind of funny to watch.

“Have a little bit of faith in us,” Iwan said, with as much of an apologetic smile as he could manage. 

“You,” Douglas looked to him, “I have mild faith in; you’re not the one I’m worried about.” At that, both Daniel and Colson make noises of outrage at the implication. 

“I’ve been helping you!” Colson exclaimed, betrayed, and Douglas gave him a sidelong glance.

“And honestly, you were doing great at it until you suggested I should find out where she works and get a whole tattoo just to spend time with her.”

“I never suggested -!”

“You implied!”

During the entire car ride to your gig the following day, Douglas strongly contemplates sending you an apology in advance. Literally everyone in the car, including Jonah, who was driving, and the makeup assistant, Ally, who’d tagged along because she’d become invested after they’d filled her in on the fake-band deal, tells him it’s a bad idea.

“We’ll be fine, there’s nothing to apologise for, we’re not gonna helicopter parent,” Colson teased, trying to pinch at Douglas’ cheek, though he slapped him away.

“That kind of shit is exactly what I’m afraid of,” Douglas warned him, pointing a stern finger at him.

“We’ll hold him back,” Daniel says with a half smile; he’s been trying to act less nosy and more trustworthy since yesterday, apparently taking Douglas’ words to heart.

“We’ll try,” Iwan grins, as if momentarily possessed by the spirit of Mick Mars, about to watch his bandmates cause havoc and do very little to stop it. Why was Daniel the one Douglas had been worried about again?

 Anyways, nosy bastards the lot of them.

Casa Cristo is already thumping with music by the time they all arrive, fashionably late at ten thirty, all still sporting the remnants of their makeup after filming had wrapped for the day. 

When they walk in, AC/DC’s You Shook Me All Night Long is just beginning, and you’re on stage, backlit by the LED parcans you’d brought to add a little something extra to the performance, sculling a pint of water like your life depended on it while the other two thirds of your band’s trio played through the opening of the song.

“She was a fast machine, she kept her motor clean; she was the best damn woman that I’ve ever seen,” you leaned into your microphone with a sharp smile as you looked out at the crowd and the dancefloor. 

Like always, you’re a sight to behold, in black ripped jeans this time, and a shirt that was more hole than fabric, showing off your fancy bra beneath. There’s what looks to be a leather jacket in a heap beside your bass amp, and you’re rocking in time with the beat as you play your bass. 

“That her?” Ally asks over the music; everyone nods in confirmation, “she’s hot as hell; you’ve got good taste.” Douglas can’t help his smile as he moves to the bar to order a drink. The song leads into I Was Made For Loving You by KISS, and then Cum On Feel The Noize, after which the set came to an end, and you promised to be back. The guitarist stops you before you head into the crowd, and the two of you talk in low voices for a moment before he points directly at the gaggle of actors sitting to the back of the room. 

Your expression lights up when you spot them. Douglas pretends his heart doesn’t leap at the sight. Jonah head to the courtyard to smoke, joined by Daniel and Iwan, while Ally had headed to the bar, leaving, thankfully, only Douglas and Colson.

You head to the bar first to get a drink, but once you have, you make a beeline for them.

“The band with no name, back again; I don’t know if I should feel flattered or threatened,” you grin, bright and sincere as you say it, joining them at the table they’d commandeered. You’re a little sweaty from rocking out, shining and a little ethereal in the dim club lights.

“We’re scoping out the competition,” Colson grins, titling his glass to you to cheers, which you comply with happily.

“I think that means we have to play some Crue to show you how it’s done,” you answer in kind, shifting your weight on your feet, turning to face Douglas, “how about it? Think I could show you a thing or two?” 

“I’d say it’s a good thing Nikki Sixx was busy if it means I get to learn a thing or two from you instead,” Douglas hears himself say, and for a single instant, he’s terrified he’s blown his cover. Your mouth falls open in flustered shock, and your eyes go wide, something pleased amid the surprise in your expression. Colson is holding very still in an effort to not draw attention to himself.

Suddenly, you duck your head, muttering that he’s far too kind, unable to look him in the eye. When you finally do manage to regain your composure, you ask if he wants anything to drink, gesturing to his mostly empty cup.

“It’s fine, I can -” he tries to save you the trouble, but you insist that it’s no trouble.

“You can buy me one later,” and okay there’s absolutely no way to miss the flirty tone of your voice. Douglas really hopes the lights are hiding his slight flush, because he knows they’re absolutely not hiding his own pleased grin.

As you head to the bar, Colson lets out the breath he’d aparently been holding, eyes wide and grin wider as he looks at Douglas.

“What?” Douglas snaps, still feeling the heat in his cheeks.

“That was smooth as hell, my dude,” Colson tells him sincerely, and Douglas lets himself be a little smug.

“You know I do know how to chat up a girl, right?” He asks, and Colson raises his hands in mock surrender.

“Never said you couldn’t.”

“Just took me a bit to figure out Y/N; I’m not bad at it when I kind of know who I’m talking to.”

“Not bad a it?! Fuck, man, that was a bullseye; she’s literally buying you a drink -”

“Who?” Daniel asked, rejoining the group, alongside Ally, who was nursing an espresso martini. 

“Turns out Doug’s actually got some game,” Colson smirked, though Douglas just rolled his eyes. 

“Of course he has,” Daniel said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, “look at his face; that jawline’s got more game than half the guys in here.” 

“And the eyeliner,” Ally added with an appreciative nod, which Daniel agreed with easily. At least they were being supportive. By the time you come back, Ally’s trying to reapply eyeliner to Daniel’s waterline and he’s concerned that she won’t be able to see what she’s doing in the dim light and will poke him in the eye.

“I’ll poke you in the eye on purpose, stop moving!” She yelled, his chin held tight between her fingers. You placed the drink down in front of Douglas, slotting easily into the space beside him, agonizingly close, almost touching him but not quite. You watch with confused amusement fore a few moments before Ally finishes up with a flourish; she seems surprised to see you there, and does a double take.

“Y/N,” you offer with a smile, holding out your hand, “are you the one responsible for their eyeliner? Because I must say, I definitely appreciate it,” you grin sharply. Ally shakes your hand after capping her eyeliner and shoving it back in her pocket.

“Ally, and yes, I’m the band’s stylist,” she lies easily, and your eyebrows raise.

“That first gig’s going to be something spectacular if they already have a stylist,” you muse.

“We have a name now too,” Daniel adds, blinking rapidly, trying to clear the tears from his eyes from where they’d been watering from the makeup. You make a noise of intrigue, and Douglas buries his face in his free hand, “The Fourskins.” 

“The Fourskins.” You say tentatively, as if trying to hold back laughter, leaning in just enough that your shoulder was touching Douglas’s. 

“Because there’s four of us and we play without shirts,” Colson adds, and Douglas chokes on his drink momentarily. If you ever end up watching The Dirt, you’re probably going to end up throttling them all for thinking that this was at all subtle. 

As it stands, however, you just nod, and turn the name over in your mind, finally declaring that it works. It’s not long before Iwan and Jonah come back with your drummer in tow, and as soon as your saying hello to the other two, you’re being called back on stage.

“This next one’s for you guys!” You called over your shoulder with a grin as you’re slipping through the crowd towards the stage. The six at the table all chattered amongst themselves, trying to guess which song you’d play; Kickstart My Heart, Take Me To The Top, and Live Wire were all pretty far at the top of the list. After a brief chat with your band, however, you’d turned your bass back on and leaned into the microphone, giving a very distinctive laugh.

And you start to play She Goes Down.

“I think I love her,” Colson snorted, a sentiment which was echoed by both Iwan and Ally, while Douglas tried to keep his composure, which was a struggle with what your voice was doing and how your body was moving to the almost syrupy bass line. 

“Flat on my back she goes down,” your eyes flutter close at the bridge, practically making love to the song with your voice going low and seductive, “for backstage pass, she goes down. With all of my friends, she goes down. She gives heart attack, she goes,” you croon, your eyes opening as a grin spreads across your lips and you slam into the final chorus.

The idea that Motley Crue wrote so much about sex had never exactly registered for Douglas, it was just kind of the done thing back in the hair metal scene. It seems like a good majority of songs were either about sex or drugs or both, and but hearing the recording, he’d never been fully aware of the suggestive power of the songs until this moment. Maybe it’s the difference between knowing Nikki Sixx now in 2018, and hearing and seeing you in 2018 sing it live that makes all the difference.

Because he’s trying desperately to commit your entire performance of the song to memory.

“Nikki and Tommy would fucking love this,” Colson adds, to almost universal agreement as the next song began.

The night is joyful and exuberant, and much to Douglas’s surprise, you seem to be spending most of your time between sets with him and the other actors, though judging by the other’s reactions, he shouldn’t be so surprised.

“She’s into you,” Ally told him bluntly, the two of them together at the bar while the others were outside in the cool night air. She spoke to him as if speaking to an idiot, which he resented, “why are you surprised she wants to spend time with you?”

“I’m just...” and he sighed deeply, “I’m just worried that me or one of the guys is going to slip up somehow, and she’ll only want to be around me because of the movie.”

“I don’t think she’s like that,” Ally said softly, patting him on the shoulder.

“And I don’t know her well enough to be able to agree,” Douglas admitted; for all that he liked you, he still wasn’t quite able to discern how you’d react to him playing Nikki Sixx in the band’s upcoming biopic. He didn’t even want to bring up the film for fear of you connecting the dots.

“Then get to know her,” she suggests, as if it’s that easy. 

Somehow, having confirmation from Ally that you were into him was easier to believe than from the guys. 

After you’ve played your final song for the night and said your goodbyes to the crowd, as the crowd’s chatter grows louder, though some are already moving on to a new venue. You coil leads and haul amps around with the speed and efficiency of someone twice your age, so focused that it’s almost mesmerizing. 

The rest of the cast is making plans to move on, but as you’re taking the last of your things out to the station wagon outside, he knows the only way he’ll be able to see you again without being chaperoned by one of his nosy friends is by asking you out. 

You’re out by the car, guitar case in one hand, holding the passenger door open with the other, talking about something with the drummer who was waiting in the driver’s seat. Then you spot him through the glass of the pub doors, watching with hesitation, and you smile at him warmly. You stow your guitar case in the back seat of the car, amid milk crates of leads and microphone stands, and make your way to the door.

As Douglas steps outside, he hears the drummer call ‘I’m leaving in five, with or without you’ but you ignore him.

“Great show, as always,” Douglas smiles, letting the door close behind himself, giving the two of you a modicum of privacy.

“But you’ve only seen us perform twice,” you say with slight hesitation.

“And you’ve been consistently good,” he points out, and you’re grinning again, all bashful and pleased, contrasting your fuck off attire, “can I ask when you’re free this week?”

“You certainly can,” you rock back on your heels, eyes shining, “it’s what I came over here to ask you, actually.”

“My uh, my day job’s kind of weirdly scheduled, so it’d probably be easier for me to work around you,” he admitted, and your eyebrow rose, intrigued.

“Day job?”

“It’s complicated,” and thankfully you didn’t pry.

“Well, my band rehearses Tuesday and Thursday, but I’m free during the week after five thirty; do you wanna grab dinner some time?” You asked, hopeful. Douglas’s lips curved into a smile and he nodded.

“I’ll check my schedule tonight and talk to you tomorrow, how about that?”

“Sounds like a date!” You enthuse, and make a step towards the car, but Douglas can’t help himself.

“I enjoyed She Goes Down, by the way,” he says, and when you turn around your smile is sharp as knives as mischief twinkles in your eyes.

“Oh, I’m sure you did, and I’m sure you will,” you wink at him, “we’ll see how the date goes.”

He watches you leave, his whole face amusingly red as he tries not to dwell on your implications, and he realises that you may very well be the death of him. Not that he’s complaining.

[bleedinghearthalstead]

SWAT!Jay / Upstead AU

A/N: Part 11. Post Bruised Ego. Crossposted on AO3, link on my blog.

They've come to realize that they're missing a lot of kitchen essentials and unless Jay is willing to dive into the tinned cans tucked into the back of one the cabinets, they are definitely in need of a grocery run.

It's been a while since they've been grocery shopping together. Since they're both barely home, their fridge rather resembles one of a bachelor than of a married couple, mostly empty except for condiments and random take-out containers and that old bottle of milk that probably went bad last week. But now that Jay is home with a broken hand, they've come to realize that they're missing a lot of kitchen essentials and unless Jay is willing to dive into the tinned cans tucked into the back of one the cabinets, they are definitely in need of a grocery run.

When Jay suggests that they go to Costco, Hailey raises an eyebrow at him. Jay is usually the get in, get what you need and get out type of shopper, so it really is a testament to how bored he is at home and it's only been a week. She doesn’t want to know what else he’s going to come up with in the next five. Hailey quickly makes a list of what they need – wow, they're apparently out of salt – and they're off to what she knows is going to be a much longer shopping trip than she had planned for.

They've barely stepped foot in the warehouse and Jay has already wandered off towards the electronics on sale, leaving Hailey with their cart. She thinks about calling after her husband, but she just rolls her eyes at him and keeps walking towards the food section in the back. He better not be looking at that 70 inch TV that he was talking about with Will the other night. Hailey methodically goes down every aisle – if they're here already, she might as well make the most of it and find some of those hidden sale items. She remembers going shopping with her mother, one of the few things she and her mother did together – just the two of them since her brothers hated it – and they’d make a fun game out of it, doing a treasure hunt for those elusive limited offers. She’d run ahead of her mother, ducking and jumping, running back and forth the aisles, trying to glimpse the highlighted price signs. Both of them would rejoice every time Hailey found a treasure. She marvels at how fondly she looks back at such a mundane thing as buying groceries.

Half an hour later Hailey finds Jay in the cereal aisle, one-handedly pushing his own cart, already filled with all kinds of things. "Jay!" She walks over to him, her eyes widening at what is in his cart. "What in the world…"

"Oh hey, babe." Jay gives her a blinding smile and throws two large boxes of Cinnamon Toast Crunch into his cart.

She rummages through the items he’s gotten so far and they definitely do not need 1,875 q-tips or 200 trash bags or that tub of 115 dishwasher detergent pacs. And is that a 2 pound tin of peanuts? She spots something blue and silver at the bottom of the cart and she scrunches up her nose in disgust. "Oh God, is that a 24-pack of Red Bull?!"

"Leave it," he laughs and slaps his wife’s hands away.

She sees that he’s also already been to the meat section and got two whole chickens, four racks of ribs and what looks like ten pounds of ground beef. "Who’s gonna eat all of that?"

Jay shrugs and scratches the back of his head. "I thought I’d invite the guys over for a barbeque." And now she knows how bored Jay really is, if he’s willing to cater for eight guys who eat like they’re bottomless pits, with a broken hand no less. Hailey sighs, knowing that this is going to happen whether she wants it or not.

"Alright," she huffs and looks through the rest of his cart – there's burger buns, but there's nary a vegetable in sight, and no, she’s not gonna count the massive glass of pickles. "How about some sides and some other drinks?"

Jay’s brilliant smile is back and he leans down to peck her on the lips. "You’re the best."

In the hopes of speeding things up, Hailey types out a list on her phone and Jay’s phone pings a few seconds later. "You get those things and I’ll get the rest. Meet at checkout in twenty?"

He looks at the items she sent him and nods, checking his watch. "Copy that."

"Oh," Hailey stops him with a grin, "and can you get me some tampons when you get the toilet paper?"

"Orange or green?" Jay sticks out his tongue at her. He knows she tries to catch him off-guard sometimes, but honestly, it's not the first time he got her tampons and it's not like he minds.

She winks at him. "Yellow."

"Yes, ma'am." He'll get her some tampons, she'll see.

On her round to get the last few things on her own list (a.k.a. the things that they were actually planning to buy before they got here), she catches Jay stuffing his face with food samples four times, and every time he waves and yells at her to try this or that with his mouth full. And every time she pushes her cart quickly down the next aisle, shaking her head at his antics.

After she gets everything they needed, she gives him the full twenty minutes and another ten afterwards just browsing through the store before she goes to checkout, but her husband is nowhere to be seen. Hailey tries calling him, but it just keeps ringing until it goes to voicemail. Sighing, she guesses that Jay got lost somewhere in the cheese section, looking for the feta cheese that she put on his list. Waiting for another five minutes, Hailey decides to pay and get a sundae from the food court while she waits for him.

"Babe, over here!" She hears his voice as soon as she’s past the cash registers, surprised that he beat her to the food court. He’s holding a half-eaten hot dog in his right hand and balancing another one on his cast, a soda cup tucked into the crook of his elbow. Jay looks like a food spill waiting to happen, so Hailey hurries towards him, saving the hot dog that is precariously perched on his arm.

The toppings are piled high and there’s extra sauerkraut, just the way she likes it. She smiles up at Jay and thumbs away a drop of ketchup from the corner of his mouth before she stands up on her tiptoes and gives him a quick kiss. "Thanks, babe."

He raises an eyebrow at her when she takes her first bite. "Who said that one’s for you?"

His wife giggles and retorts with a raised eyebrow of her own. "Let’s see you try and take this away from me."

"Oh no," Jay laughs, "I'm only gonna make that mistake once." He finishes the rest of his hot dog in one bite – his cheeks comically bulging as he chews – and washes it down with a couple of big gulps of soda. He takes Hailey’s cart and leads her to where he left his while she eats her hot dog.

"Hey, Raymond," he walks up to an employee, "all good?"

"Yeah, man, your carts are over there." The guy points at two carts (he did say carts, as in plural, Hailey thinks) that are pushed against the wall next to him.

"Thanks, buddy." Jay fistbumps the guy and pushes Hailey’s cart over to the others.

Hailey almost chokes on the bite of hot dog in her mouth. The last time she saw him half an hour ago, he had one cart that was already ridiculously full and he walked out with two? She doesn’t even know how Jay did it. It’s hard enough to push two carts by yourself, but he can’t even hold on to the other one properly with his cast? And how did he even get the stuff in the cart? She forces herself to swallow down the bite and blurts out, "What the fuck?"

A woman with two little kids walking by glares at Hailey and Jay snorts loudly. She doesn’t even notice, still staring at Jay’s two overflowing carts. One of them is definitely the one that she saw him with, only now thirty rolls of toilet paper and about 300 tampons stacked on top. The second one is loaded with three 24-pack trays of beer, three big bottles of bourbon, a six pack of Coke bottles and a gallon of orange juice. And it’s all piled on top of a…

"Is that a mini fridge?!" Hailey's voice goes up an octave. She turns to Jay who looks at her like the cat that ate the canary, big grin and all. Jay bought a mini fridge. Hailey pinches the bridge of her nose, but can't help the laugh that escapes her. She knew one of them was going to buy something they didn't need, but this definitely beats the yoga pants and sports bra that she treated herself to.

"It's actually a stainless steel cooler on wheels," Jay explains proudly. "It's got its own bottle opener and cap catcher."

Laughing out loud, she hands her half-eaten hot dog to Jay who gladly takes it and continues to wolf it down. She pats his good arm. "Honey, you get all of that stuff in the car, I don't care how."

"And what are you gonna do?"

"I’m getting a sundae," she announces and walks off. Behind her she hears Jay roping that poor guy Raymond into helping him with the carts. Then she hears him call after her. "Babe! Get me a strawberry sundae too!" She shakes her head with a smile and gets in line.

[awyeahitssam]

I wrote a “Stiles is transformed into a girl” AU earlier, but it turned out to be just smut.  So here’s this - the same universe in snippets. 

“Goddamn!” Stiles shouted, kicking the examine table hard enough to leave his miniaturized foot aching. 

“Wow, looks like she’s already PMSing.” 

While any comment like Isaac’s not-so-quiet mutter was in poor taste, it was especially so considering the news that had caused Stiles’ outburst.

“You and your misplaced judgement can fuck off, because I was just told that I will never be my parents son again.”

“Wow, hate women much, Stilinski?” Jackson sneered.

“Oh, fuck off!” Stiles snapped. “I like and respect women plenty. That doesn’t mean I’m cool with suddenly turning into one.”

“‘Like’ and ‘respect,’” Erica mimicked. “That sounded a little sexist, Batman.”

Stiles stared at her, openly disbelieving. He glanced around, but nobody seemed like they were about to step in and rebut that particular sentiment. So he took a deep, settling breath and did what he did best, because, as always, nobody else was going to.

“How would you feel if you traded in your breasts and vagina for a dick?”

Erica blinked, taken aback. After a beat she opened her mouth, but Stiles continued before she could respond.

“Sure, maybe it’d be cool at first, but after a few hours or days that novelty would wear off, and you’d want your own body back. Y’know, the body you’ve lived in for eighteen years, and grown a little fond of.” 

Erica was flushed, but that could’ve been caused by anything from remorse to indignation at being chided in front of the entire pack. It wasn’t like he could smell her emotions; if she wanted him to stop, she would have to use her words. Anyway, it had been a long couple of days and he needed to vent a little. 

“Calling me sexist, of all things, because I want to have the body I was born in back is ignorant and just plain stupid. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go find somebody with an explanation beyond ‘it’s irreversible’.”

Stiles snatched the taser from his purse and waved it threateningly. “Back the fuck off, dude. You’ve never been interested in me before, so I’m going to go ahead and assume this is more of a ‘I’d like to get my dick wet’ scenario than a ‘wow, Stiles, you have such a great personality, let’s date!’ sorta thing. Not that I’d be interested in the latter, but still.”

If anything, Isaac looked more amused. He stepped forward, and Stiles fought the instinct to pull back. He was smaller than he should’ve been; he’d never been shorter than Isaac before. Still, Stiles had stood up to bullies that were bigger and stronger than him all his life. This wasn’t the same, but it wasn’t so different, either.

Though the fact that Stiles now had to worry about his so-called packmate ignoring what he said and trying to get into his pants regardless pissed him off immeasurably.

“It’s just sex, Stilinski. What, are you still a virgin or something?”

Like Isaac hadn’t been a virgin himself before Derek bit him.

What a douche.

“Seriously dude, fuck off.”

Isaac’s face twisted into something bemused, like he couldn’t understand the word no. Which, seriously? Stiles had always thought Isaac was an asshole who believed he could get away with anything if he pulled out his traumatic childhood membership card, but this was a little extreme. 

“Are you seriously turning down a chance to test out your new parts? What kind of guy are you?”

“I’m starting to wonder what kind of guy you are, Lahey. No means no. I’m not having sex with you, so drop it and move out of my goddamn way.” 

For a moment Isaac went unnaturally still. Predator still. Stiles tensed, preparing to use both the taser and aerosolized wolfsbane Allison had given him. If he took even one step closer, Stiles wouldn’t hesitate.

Perhaps he smelled the violence rising in the air, or maybe Isaac had just decided to take no for an answer. Either way the werewolf gave Stiles a lingering glance, turned on his heel, and slunk back into the preserve, presumably off to practice his wolfy abilities with the others.

“My, my, you really do enjoy facing down predators, Stiles.”

Stiles turned, unsurprised to find Peter leaning against one of the house support beams. He frowned.

“Yeah, apparently a bunny predator and a sexual predator. Thanks for stepping in, there, zombiewolf.” 

Peter shrugged. “You had it handled.”

Stiles sighed, rolling his shoulders and stuffing the taser back in his bag. “I can deal with Lahey if I have to. And apparently having boobs means I’ll have to.” 

Peter met his eyes when Stiles looked up from scowling at his breasts. The man seemed faintly amused, but there was something beyond that.

It seemed the hungry gleam in Peter’s eyes remained whether Stiles was male or female. At least one person didn’t change the way they looked at him, but in his current state the gaze made him feel vaguely vulnerable. And god damn, did he hate that.

Stiles had long since been aware of his comparative weakness to the wolves he ran with, but knowing and seeing were different things. He was several inches shorter and about twenty pounds lighter than he had been, his coordination thrown even more out of wack by his newly proportioned limbs. His reach was less than it had been, his gait wasn’t right, and when he tested swinging his baseball bat his breasts did some uncomfortable swinging as well. Apparently, he needed a bra.

Lydia takes him shopping first thing Friday, because of course she does. Stiles only allows it because it seems he’s going to be in this body a while, until he can prove Deaton wrong, so he might as well buy some pants he doesn’t have to hold up by a belt without enough notches.

“That skirt is just, like, deliberately short!” 

He ends up with three pairs of jeans, a pair of sweats, some cargo shorts (because apparently those are the only kind that don’t stop mid-thigh), a couple of hoodies, and four tank tops. 

He considers throwing his favorite red lacrosse sweatshirt over it like he normally does, but it’s been getting hotter and he’s seen plenty of women jog in sports bras. At this point, it’s whatever. Stiles just needs to get some of this energy out before he shakes to death or something. 

So naturally when he’s taking a break to catch his breath on mile three, Peter materializes at his side, nursing a cup of coffee with a book tucked under his arm.

And he raises a brow, as if to comment on Stiles’ poor endurance, because of course he does. Dick.

“Are you really coming to the woods to read?” he asks, slowly straightening out. His side is still cramping, but he doesn’t want to be in the perfect position for Peter to peer into his bra, even if the man had yet to look away from his face.

“Yes, I enjoy my coffee exclusively with woodland creatures,” Peter sasses back. Stiles smiles, just a bit, because for the first time in days somebody is treating him normally. Even if it is Peter, and his brand of normal is often a bit creepy. “What are you doing in the woods, Stiles? The big bad wolf might find you.” 

It wasn’t a new joke, but--”I’m not Little Red.” 

“No,” Peter sighs dramatically, “You’ve done away with your hoodie. I suppose I’ll have to find another young man to coax away from grandmother’s house.” 

Man. Young man.

Stiles lets out a breath he wasn’t aware of holding and walks forward, shoving at Peter’s arm. It doesn’t budge, holding the coffee stead, and Peter looks surprised at the casual touch. “Replacing me so easily? Thank god.”

Clever lips curl. “I could never,” the werewolf replies, before waving him on. “Enjoy your run, Stiles.”

Stiles grins back, quick but genuine. “Enjoy your book, dude. Later!” 

And he’s off.

Stiles looks down at the sundress laid across his bed and feels the air stutter from his lungs. This dress had been reserved for the long summer days of his childhood, before sickness had taken his mother. He remembers balancing on her feet as she spun them around the living room, both singing at the top of their lungs. He remembers her kissing the shirt over his heart and telling him that he was her favorite person in the world. He remembers trying to swing higher than her and failing in the nearby park, and how she had always laughed at his pout and said, “It isn’t a competition if I don’t try, Mischief!” 

Stiles had forgotten he had stashed it in the back of his closet when his father had been gathering all Claudia’s things to donate or store in the attic. 

“Stiles?” Scott called, knocking on the door. “Dude, you alright in there?” 

“I—” Stiles took a deep breath, tearing his eyes from the dress and going to his closet. “Yeah, I’m… I’m good. Just give me a few minutes to change.”

“There’s sex reassignment surgery,” Lydia mentions one day, five weeks in. Stiles is in the middle of reading over the translated Latin she’d just handed him, and only makes a vague sound of comprehension.

“Stiles!” 

“What?” Stiles snaps, glaring up at her. He blinks a few times, processing what she’d said, and shakes his head. “No, Lydia, I - I want my body. Besides, that's not something I could ever afford, not with the debt we’re in.” 

“I have money, Stiles,” she says nonchalantly, and it’s probably unreasonable, how that makes him want to break things.

He takes a deep breath and looks her in the eyes. “I’m getting my body back, Lydia, and I’m not taking your money.”

“Stiles, you need to stop. I hate to say this, but you need to hear it, okay? You’re never going to be a guy again. Deaton said as much, and it was okay at first, you trying to prove him wrong, but this is getting out of control. You’re skipping classes, talking to Peter, and playing around with some seriously dangerous stuff. Stuff Allison’s dad would probably put a bullet through you for! Stiles, you’re going to be in a girl’s body for the rest of your life. I just don’t want you making all these shitty choices to go along with this shitty thing that happened to you. I care about you, man… you’re like my - my sister. So please stop. I don’t want to see you get hurt.” 

“Your sister?” Stiles snarled. “I’m not a fucking girl, Scott, female body or not. My mind is still male--”

Sorry to leave off there, but it’s all I’ve got. Stiles definitely shuts Scott down with his rant, though.

[sgstories123]

An Indecent Proposal

Khairul smiled to himself. He had just gotten his paycheck for his vacation work. He planned to go buy a pack of cigarettes before meeting his friends tonight for a drink.

“Fuck!”

Khairul turned and saw a girl cursing at the ATM. A couple more expletives followed. The girl took out her card and before leaving, gave the ATM a good kick and a final “Fuck!”

The girl looked familiar. Khairul looked closely and realised that it was his classmate, Rui En. But she looked so different. In the polytechnic, she is always dressed in polo t-shirts, buttoned right to the top, and jeans or slacks. She seems so quiet and proper. He did not expect her to be cursing and swearing. And definitely did not expect her to be dressed in black leather jacket and a white sports bra and black leather skirt. She looked like some kind of girlfriend of a biker gang, if there is a biker gang in Singapore. She even put on a large earring and heavy make-up. Was she doing cosplay or attending some costume party?

“Rui En!” Khairul called out. “You okay? Need any help.”

Rui En turned around. “Oh. It is you. I am okay. What are you doing here in Bugis?”

“Just came to collect my paycheck. ATM not working?”

“No. Just no money in my bank. Ha ha!” Rui En smiled to herself. “Hey! You just got your paycheck. Can lend me $50? I will pay you back next week.”

“What do you need it for?”

“I want to buy some cigarettes.”

“Then I treat you. I am also buying cigarettes.” Khairul offered generously.

They went to a nearby 7-11 and bought cigarettes and two cans of beer. They went into the carpark of the shopping complex and selecting a secluded corner, they started smoking and drinking their beers.

“Feeling better?” Khairul asked. “I did not know that you smoke. You look so prim and proper in school.”

“Ha ha! That is just a show. My brother is in the same school. If he sees me smoking or doing something wrong, he will complain to my parents and I won’t get any allowance.”

“Oh, I see.” Khairul continued drawing on his cigarette. At closer look, he realised that Rui En is actually quite pretty. Maybe her usual dressing made her look less attractive. But wearing only a sports bra now, Khairul can see that Run En is well-endowed. Definitely at least a C-cup.

“Are you staring at my breasts?” Rui En looked at Khairul.

“Sorry. They are so nice and big. Guy thing. Cannot help myself.” Khairul tried to laugh it off.

“You guys are all the same. You go crazy seeing breasts.”

“No. Only nice, big ones like yours.” Khairul tried to defend himself.

“Anyway, can lend me $50 or not? I need some money to last me till next week.”

“Sure.” Khairul took out a $50 note and handed over to Rui En.

“Thanks.” Rui En slipped the note into her pocket. “I will pay you back next week.” She put out her cigarette, gulped down the last bit of her beer and turned towards the exit of the carpark.

“Wait.” Khairul dropped his cigarette and squished it out with his foot. “How about you do something for me and you can keep the $50. You don’t have to pay me back.”

Rui En stopped in her track and turned around. “What do you want me to do?”

Khairul took a sip of his beer to boost his courage, He tried to sound nonchalant but inside, he was feeling terrified that Rui En will get angry or worse, tell someone of his indecent proposal. But he decided to press on. Afterall, there might not be another opportunity. “Can you take off your top and let me see your boobs?”

Rui En was shocked, but only for a short while. It is not the first time that guys have offered her money to see her breasts or sleep with her. But it was usually from much older guys. It is the first time that a classmate of hers made such an offer.

“Since you are such a nice guy to buy me a smoke, I will accept your offer. $50 to see my breasts. Cannot touch. Deal?” Rui En smiled to herself. $50 to see her breasts? This is easy money.

Khairul could not believe his ears. He could only nod his head. Rui En took off her leather jacket, exposing even more skin. Khairul could see her cleavage clearly now and he found himself getting aroused. Rui En pulled her sports bra off and Khairul could see that he was right. Rui En was definitely a C cup, maybe a D cup. She had small, pinkish nipples and that made her breasts seemed even larger.

“They are so beautiful. Can I touch them?” Khairul asked.

“Well, $50 is to see them. If you want to touch them, you need to pay me another $50.” Rui En replied.

Without hesitation, Khairul pulled out another $50 and handed it over to Rui En. Before Rui En could even put the note into her pocket, Khairul was already squeezing both her breasts and playing with her nipples. He moved closer and started licking first on one nipple and then on the other, circling each with his tongue. Although Rui En tried to remain calm, she was getting aroused by Khairul. Where did Khairul learnt to pleasure her woman like this? She could feel herself getting wet and was trying desperately not to moan in pleasure. Finally, she could not take it any more and pushed Khairul away.

“I think that is enough. I need to go now.” Rui En tried to keep her voice steady. She knew she needed to get away from Khairul before he realises that he has made her so horny that she might just fuck him for free.

“Wait. Can we do more if I pay you more money?” Khairul asked. Rui En can see that Khairul was also getting aroused. His cock was making a huge tent in his pants.

“$200 and I will let you fuck me.” Rui En heard herself made an offer. What was she thinking? Was she that horny?

Khairul pushed another 4 $50 notes into Rui En’s hands and dropped his pants. His cock stood upright, oozing pre-cum. Rui En was also desperate for a cock to fill her. She pushed the notes into her pocket and slipped off her skirt. She bent down, with her hands holding on the railings of the wall. Without another word, Khairul plunged his cock into Rui En from the back. Both moaned in pleasure and their moans became louder as the rocked together as one. Khairul bent forward and grabbed Rui En’s breasts. He continued fondling them while kissing Rui En’s neck and nibbling her ears. Waves of pleasure came at Run En and she was finding it hard to remain standing. Her legs were becoming weak from the fucking. But Khairul just keep on fucking her. If anything, he seems to be getting more energetic, pushing himself faster and deeper into her.

With one final grunt, Khairul emptied his seed into her, holding her tight till his cock became soft again. He kissed her one last time before removing himself from her. “When I get my next paycheck, can we do this again?”

[lettersofwrittencollective]

Prey

Author @lettersofwrittencollective

Pairing: Stiles x Reader

Word Count: 3049

Prompt/kink: Knife Play 

Summary: You’d noticed that Stiles had a thing for knives during training one time and decide that you wanted to see what he could do with them, you’d told Stiles it was his turn to be the hunter. 

Warnings: Knife play, outdoor sex, risky sex, oral (female receiving), dirty talking, Sadist!Dom!Stiles (Characters are over the age of 18) 

Masterlist || Teen Wolf Masterlist

“I’m sorry you want to what?” You’d asked the brunette male that stood in front of you, unsure if you’d heard him right or if he was actually serious. 

“I want you to teach me to fight,” Stiles had repeated, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

That had been about a year ago and while you’d had reservations you’d decided to go ahead and train him. After all, as one of the only humans in the pack, he needed to be able to defend himself and as a mercenary, you knew how to work with different weapons. 

Stiles had picked up on things pretty quickly. He was a great shot, something he had probably picked up from his dad, with both a gun and arrows. He was able to make an IED out of almost anything you put in front of him and he had absolutely no qualms about dropping you on your ass and tying you up. But one of the things you had noticed was the way he handled knives. 

There was something almost revering about the way that he handled a knife. And perhaps it was because you found them to be so intense yourself but when you’d asked him to give you a nick with it, his eyes had blown over with lust. Unfortunately, he’d backed off - terrified at what it was that he thought he was doing. 

You hadn’t failed to notice that the sex that night was much more intense and that he would, almost unconciously, trace designs over your skin. You were sure that it had something to do with the knife and you were bound and determined to get him to try something with it. 

Today was, hopefully, going to be that day. 

The two of you were training in the preserve today, a ways off the beaten path so that it was unlikely for people to stumble across you. Which meant that not only were you able to train, but if one of you was able to rile the other one up just right, you’d get to try some outdoors sex. It wasn’t so much the outdoors that turned you on as it was the idea of being caught and there was something for Stiles, about the two of you being on display during some of your most primal moments that made him desperate to wring orgasm after orgasm out of you. 

You’d decided to wear shorts and just a yoga bra for today’s session and that was Stiles’ first clue that you two would be doing something more than just sparring. Usually, when it was just a session you were yoga pants and high support sports bras but when you were feeling like you needed something more, your clothing tended to become less. 

He couldn’t help smirking to himself as he took off his shirt, leaving him in just a pair of joggers. As he watched her do her warm up stretches, he couldn’t help the twitching of his cock. No matter how many times he had you, it was always good. Always felt as incredible as that first time he’d sunk into you. 

He watched you stretch, the way your muscles moved, captivating him. The way that your hips swayed as you moved to a lunge so you could stretch out your hamstrings and your hips. The slow way you stood told him that you knew he was there and he wasn’t at all surprised at the thought. 

Moving swiftly, he had you wrapped up in his arms before you actually had a chance to turn around. One hand held at your throat as he tightened his grip ever so slightly, constricting your airflow. 

It was something you’d both learned about the other. There was something about him manhandling you that always got you going. You had said it bothered you with other boyfriends but one day, when he had been frustrated after a few Wendigos came through town, he had been unintentionally rougher with you than expected and he had been able to practically smell the lust rolling off you - which was saying something since he was fully human. 

Since then the two of you have learned that you’re both into some quite… intense… foreplay. Where most people enjoyed their sex - most of the normal world also kept it indoors or in private at least. He had been surprised when he’d jokingly suggested taking you in the forest and you had actually gone along with it, blowing him at the end of the session.

The reminder of that night, coupled with your wriggling against him made his pants tighten. 

You could feel Stiles thick length hardening beneath your ass as you moved against him and couldn’t help the needy moan that you let out. 

You couldn’t help it and you weren’t actually sure that you wanted to. With life being a bit hectic around Beacon Hills the two of you had this unspoken understanding that each time you were together was to be treated like the first and last time you would be together. You aren’t sure if that’s why it’s always as passionate as it is, or if that’s why you always feel as loved as you do when he’s through with you or if it is holding the two of you back in any way but either way it has made for some mind blowing sex. 

“Someone’s looking for a good fucking today,” his husky voice whispers in your hear as his free hand trails down your sides, avoiding your breasts and and you have to fight not to whimper. 

Stiles’ hand travels further, his fingers tapping rhythmically across your skin causing a warmth to begin to spread across your abdomen as Stiles whispers in your ear, “I bet you’d like me to rip you out of those shorts and bra and bend you over right here, fuck you on my cock until you’re voice is gone… I just bet you’d just love to cum on this cock wouldn’t you?”

You could feel your arousal pooling in your shorts, having forgone underwear, as he whispered. It wasn’t long before his fingers found your waist band and just as his hand dipped in, you remembered that you had plans. 

Wriggling out of his arms, you moved a few steps away before you turned to look at him and smiled at the pout on his face. Chuckling, you inform him,  “We actually have a bit of training to do before we get to make any of that a reality.”

Walking over to your duffell, you pull out a couple of the throwing knives you had brought, just for this. They’re sharp enough that they can cut through skin quite easily but you trust Stiles so you aren’t terribly worried about the possibilities. 

Taking two of them, you walk over him and hand them to him. His eyebrow shoots up and when he gives you a questioning look, you simply tell him, “You’ll be hunting me today but the only things you are allowed to use are the knives.” 

He slowly nods his head and you can see his mind working a million miles a minute, trying to figure out what kind of weapons he can create with the gifts in his hands and you can see as he settles on something and you click your tongue, shaking your head. When his eyes snap over to him, you smirk,  “You only get to use the knives. No creating anything else.”

He looks surprised, but nods his head slowly, “Rules?”

“If you can catch me in the first 10 minutes, I am all yours. You get to decide exactly how you plan on wringing each orgasm from me and how many. If it takes you more than 10 minutes, you get to watch me get myself off but you’re not allowed to touch or come,” you inform him with a smirk and he nods his head. 

“Alright, give me three minutes before the timer starts,” you tell him and he nods his head. 

Taking off through the preserve, you started making your way through the room. Ducking through trees and backtracking to and from you check the time before you realize that Stiles should be coming after you any second now. 

Digging in, it’s not long before you hear the snapping twig of someone nearby. You wait before you take off in the opposite direction. You can feel your heart rate and your body tingle from both the activity but primarily from the anticipation. You’d been working with Stiles for a bit and you were sure that he’d be able to find you. 

Looking down at your watch, you realize that about nine minutes have passed. Smirking to yourself, you start making your way back towards the clearing. It would seem that you were going to have fun riling Stiles up. It would make things much more enjoyable the next time he got his hands on you. 

As you’re making your way through the preserve, you hear a whirring and turn just in time to see the flash of a metal as it flies by you. Stopping, you hear the thudding and see the knife stuck into the wood just at your eye level. Turning, you found that a second knife was 

“So- what was that about me catching you in the first ten minutes?” came his husky voice and you could feel the tingling in your abdomen intensify as you looked around, trying to identify where his voice came from. 

Finding him stepping out from between a set of bushes, a third knife in his hand, you heard his chuckle and couldn’t help the tingle of excitement. 

Before you realized, he was on you. His free hand came up to cup your face and you couldn’t help but sink into it. With the other hand, he took the knife in his hand and slipped it up the center of your stomach. The presser was ever so slight, just enough to let you know that the blade was there but not enough to actually draw any blood. 

As he leaned in to kiss you, you felt the blade slip beneath the sports bra before Stiles somehow adjusted the blade to cut through the fabric but not your skin. With the material now loose on you, you could feel the slight breeze against your quickly hardening nipples. 

A whimper escapes you at the delicious feeling of the cool air contrasted with the warmth of his body on your bare chest. Nipping his lip playfully you pulled back, “that was one of my favorite bras.”

“I’ll buy you a new one,” he chuckled against your ear and the sound instantly made you wetter for him. 

You felt his legs slip between yours and he nudged your knees apart. Obliging him, you spread your legs slightly and Moments later, the very knife he’d used on your bra and one you’re not sure where it came from was slipped into both sides of shorts before he tugged it and the material easily gave way. 

Gasping as the cool air hit you’re heated core you felt and heard Stiles groan, “Not wearing any panties?” He questioned as you felt his leg move a little higher so you would were settled just over his clothes thigh. 

The fabric of his joggers created a delicious friction against your sensitive skin and you unconsciously bucked your hips into him. 

“That’s it sweetheart,” he whispered in your hear as a knife edge was dragged against your thigh, “I want you to make yourself cum on my thigh.”

You could feel the heat rise to your skin. It wasn’t so much that you were embarrassed at the actions or the words but there was always something about the way he said it that made it so much more… you had no words for it.

You rocked your hips against his thigh, grinding yourself into it unashamedly. This wasn’t the first time you’d gotten yourself off on him and it probably wouldn’t be the last. You fully intended to leave him fully and completely covered in your orgasm. 

Stiles continued to move the knife along your skin. He could feel you on his leg and he knew that he’d made a good choice with these particular joggers this morning. They had a ribbing across the thigh that he knew was driving you wild based off the increased speed of your hips. 

He moved the knife to travel up the sides of your body, and under the curve of your breast as he nipped at your neck and made his way up to your ear. Interspersed with his nipping lips, he’d whisper in your ear, “Such a pretty little slut, fucking yourself on my thigh.” 

He could hear your whimpers and your moans as you neared your orgasm. Just as your face tightened, about to reach your release he pulled away from you and he heard your disappointed whine, making him chuckle. 

He’d gotten painfully hard through all this and looking at you, flushed and wanton as you tried to glare at him made him lick his lips. Looking down at his pants he realized that you had left him drenched in you and he couldn’t help but feel a little cocky at the realization that you had managed to get that wet - just for him. 

“Stiles,” you growled out when he didn’t return to your body immediately. 

You watched as his eyes took you in and you could see that he was just as turned on as you were. A bird distracted him as it flew by but he seemed to realize that you stood in front of him, fully naked and a glint came to his eye. 

A glint you knew. 

Before you could say anything, he dropped down on his knees in front of you. You felt him alternate legs, kissing from one knee to the inside of your thighs and you felt like your knees would give out from just the sheer anticipation of what he was about to do. 

Moving your legs a little wider when Stiles pushed at them, your hands came down to his hair to tug at the soft brown hair. You could feel his warm breath on you and moved your hips against him. Moaning when he licked through your folds 

“You’re so wet,” he groaned into your skin and you couldn’t help the whine as you tried to find friction against him. 

“So wet- just for me…” he whispered before his mouth wrapped itself around your clit. You were so close to the edge, the coil in your lower belly ready to snap already that when he bit down you came screaming his name as your pulled on his hair. 

As you rode out your orgasm, on his tongue, you felt yourself being stretched as he slipped two fingers in you. It made you gasp and you tugged at his hair as he continued his assault on your clit with his mouth while his fingers curled inside you. 

It didn’t take him long for him to hit your g-spot and he continued with that spot. You could feel the coil tightening again as you moved against his hand and his mouth, trying to find some additional stimulation. 

A surprised yelp escaped you when you felt him lift your leg over his shoulder, and stood up. Your back scraped against the tree slightly at the movement but combined with the way his fingers moved it was more pleasurable than painful. His fingers found a new angle and he hit something in you you didn’t even know existed as his mouth latched onto one of your nipples

“Nggghh, fuck! Right there Stiles,” you begged him as you reached down and into his pants.

Trying to reach his cock, you were stopped when he gripped your wrist and growled at you, “Not yet darling. I’ll be in you soon enough, filling you up nice and full.”

His words pulled another orgasm from you and as you clamped down around him, he pulled his hands from you, replacing his hands with his thick cock.  You heard him groan into your shoulder as you continued to flutter around him.

He pulled your arms so that they were wrapped around his neck and you hooked your free leg over his waist. Giving you no time to adjust, it isn’t long before Stiles is pounding into you. 

“God baby, you’re so fucking tight,” he growls as he fucks  you through the remainder of your orgasm. 

In the back of your head, there’s a worry that he may drop you- after all this is Stiles Stilinski- but you aren’t really able to focus on that particular thought as he’s ramming into you so hard you feel another orgasm beginning to crest.

Doing your best to meet him thrust for thrust, you try to move against him in this position and while he’s done most of the work today you cannot deny that you have never felt so much. 

As he continued to bounce you on his cock you found yourself about to let go again. Squeezing around him, whimpering at the onslaught of sensations it isn’t long before you feel him cumming.

It pulls you over the edge, with him, one more time as you scream his name- only for it to echo through the preserve. 

He leaned into you and you could feel his breath heavy as you, also, tried to catch your breath. Stiles stayed buried within you as the two of you came down from the high of your respective orgasms. 

Chuckling softly, you looked over at him and leaned in to kiss him softly. Just a few, light kisses because you knew if either of you deepened the kiss, it would be another round. 

As you kissed him, you felt the loss of him and groaned at the loss of him. His hands had come down to hold your ass and you were able to loosen the hold you had on his waist. 

The two of you just basked in each other for a few minutes before your peaceful bliss was interrupted by his phone going off… It was Scott’s ringtone.

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Masterlist || Teen Wolf Masterlist

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Posted 8 October 2019

[avengerscompound]

The Right Partner

The Right Partner - A Captain America Fanfic

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count:  3559

Warnings:  Smut (MF, viring!reader, virgin!Steve, virginity loss, oral sex, vaginal sex)

Synopsis:  You and Steve feel like you’re the only two people in the tower not having sex. When you find out that it’s because neither of you has ever have had sex, you decide to change it.

The Right Partner

And there goes Bucky and Natasha.  You sigh and take a sip of your hot chocolate.  At least there was Steve.  You could count on that.  When everyone else had paired off and gone to their bedrooms Steve was always out here with you.  You look at him and he smiles at you.

“You have whip cream on your cheek.”  He says.

You sigh and wipe your cheek.   That’s exactly what you wanted.  No wonder you were still single.  Can’t even drink without making a mess of yourself.

“No… nope… you keep missing it.”  Steve says.  He reaches forward and wipes his thumb over the corner of your lip.  “There you go.”

“God, I’m a mess.  Sorry, Steve.”  You say, frowning.

Steve looks at you, his head tilted to the side.  “It was just some cream.  What’s wrong?”

You sigh and look away from him.  “Do you ever get the feeling that we’re the only two people in this compound not having sex?”

Steve starts sitting a little straighter and he turns from you too.  “Yeah… I do think that.  If it helps, I’d say you’re beating me on that front too.”

You laugh, but it comes out sounding way more sarcastic than you’d intended.  “I doubt it.”

Steve laughs too and it sounds genuine.  “Does it help if I tell you I’ve never had sex?  Not ever?”

You look at him, eyes wide.  “Really?”  You ask completely dumbfounded.  You can not for the life of you understand, how Steve Rogers could still be a virgin.  “But you have a fan club.”

Steve sighs and runs his hands through this hair.  “Please don’t make fun of me.  I get enough of that from Tony.”

“No.  Oh god no, Steve.  I’m just surprised.  I’d never make fun of you for that.”  You turn to him and put your hand on his.  “I’ve never had sex either.”

Steve raises his eyebrow at you.  “Really?  Or are you just trying to make me feel better?”

You laugh.  “Why would I lie about being a virgin to make you feel better?”

Steve shrugs.  “I don’t know.”  He looks at you.  “Waiting for the right partner?”

You sigh and take another sip of your hot chocolate.  The sweet creamy flavor warming you from the inside out.  “I thought it should be this perfect magical thing with the perfect magical person.  The longer I waited the more I built it up.  Now I’m in my thirties and I’ve never had that connection and I’m starting to think I missed my chance.”

Steve chuckles and raises his eyebrow.  “I’m a hundred years old.  I’ve got you beat there.”

You laugh and nudge him with your elbow.

“Before the serum, no one really looked twice at me.  I’d be either ignored or flat out ridiculed by women.  I kept telling myself when I had the right partner they wouldn’t be that way I’d know.  I’d just wait until that happened.  I thought I found her, but then I went into the ice and woke up and everything is different.”  He shakes his head and looks at you like he really needs you to understand him.  “In the forties, it wasn’t as if people weren’t having sex.  We were.  Did you know they gave us prophylactics when we enlisted?”

You shake your head.

“But it was all buried.  We didn’t talk about it.  You were supposed to wait until you were married.  If you had sex before you were married well that girl was not the kind you married.  If women got pregnant unmarried they disappeared for 9 months.  Or they had backyard abortions and more than likely died.  Now, everyone’s having sex all the time.  People talk about it all the time.  And even though women still get called … sluts…” He whispers the word ‘slut’ like it’s the worst curse word he knows.  “They are still much more forward than I’m used to. Not that it’s bad.  It’s better it’s not buried.  Not lying about that stuff is better.”

He’s babbling and you’re not sure if he is even sure he knows where this story is taking him anymore.  You take his hand and give it a squeeze.  “What are you trying to say?  That forward women scare you?”

He shakes his head.  “No.  No.  I like that.  I always have.  But now I look like this.  I went from living in a world where women wanted to be seen as this thing they weren’t to be marriageable.  And on top of that being a completely unmarriageable person myself.  To this world where sex is just a thing people do and being … well…”  He gestures to his body.  You laugh and lean against his arm.  He leans his head on top of yours.  “Women approach me all the time now and I have no idea how to tell what their intentions are.”

You squeeze his hand.  “Well, I don’t even have that excuse.  I just can’t read men.  They always go right to the sex.  Is it wrong to want the romance too?”

He takes your hand in his and just holds it.  “No.  It’s not wrong.”

You sigh.  “At this point, I’d just like to not lose it to someone I don’t know and I feel confident I won’t end up hating.  Who I know for sure won’t make me feel like shit about myself after.”

“I just want to trust they like me and not Captain America,”  Steve says.

You sit like that for a moment just holding hands and leaning into each other. Neither of you brave enough to suggest the thing you had just both hinted at.

You sit up and take a long drink of your now lukewarm chocolate.  When you put it down Steve laughs.  “You have a cream mustache.”  He says and reaches over and wipes the cream off your lip with his thumb.  You part your lips and it dips into your mouth.  Your breath catches and you flick your tongue out and brush it over the pad of his thumb.

Steve breathes your name, cradling your jaw in his large hand.  You nod, still not quite able to breathe properly and you both lean into each other.

He tilts his head right and you tilt yours left so you end up squashing noses together.  You go to correct but so does he and you both end up laughing.  Steve’s hands go to each side of your face and hold you in place as he tilts his head and brings his lips to yours.  It feels so good.  Way better than you could have imagined considering it was Steve and you’d never even considered this as a possibility.

His lips are soft and he caresses them against yours.  You open your mouth and your tongue flicks over his top lip.  He grants you access to his mouth, meeting your tongue with his.  He feels so hot.  Like he’s running a fever and he tastes like cinnamon sugar.

You pull back just a fraction and look at him.  “What have you been eating?”  You ask.

“Nat had pumpkin pie.  I had a slice.  Why?”   He replies.  Instead of answering you just kiss him again.

He tilts you back onto the couch and climbs on top of you.  As he positions himself between your legs he ends up leaning on your hair, pulling it rather painfully.  “Ow, ow, ow.”  You chant, trying to pull it free.

He sits up letting your hair go.  “Sorry.  Are you okay?”

You nod.  “Yeah.  Uhh… maybe we should take this to the bedroom?”

Steve gets up and helps you to your feet.   “Yours or mine?”  He asks.

You opt for his.  He has a bigger bed. When he closes the door behind you, you both just stand and stare at each other for a moment.  The atmosphere feels heavy and full of expectation.

“Are you sure you want this?”  He asks.

You nod.  “Absolutely.  Are you?”

He answers you by pulling you into another deep kiss.  You start trying to tug at his t-shirt, to pull it up off his head.  He pulls back and you somehow get it stuck halfway over his head.  “Steve, buy shirts that fit you, for god’s sake.”  You curse.

He laughs and pulls it off the rest of the way.  You run your fingertips over his pecs and down his abs.  “Fuck… no wonder women keep throwing themselves at you.”   You lean forward and circle the point of your tongue over one of his nipples.  He hums in response and you bite it gently.

“Fuck…”  He growls and fists his hand into your hair.  “Let me see you.”

You smile up at him.   “Sure.”  You agree.  You pull off your t-shirt first.   You were just wearing a black sports bra on underneath.  The hungry look Steve gave you made it feel like it was the sexiest lingerie in the world.  You pulled the bra off next and he stepped forward.

His hands slid up your waist and cupped the underside of your breast like he was weighing it.  “What are you doing?”  You ask.

“I don’t actually know,”  Steve says.  “I uh… I really want to suck on them.”

You snort laugh and then cover your face in embarrassment.  “You can.  It’s okay.”

He guides you back to his bed and you sit on the edge.  He kneels in front of you and starts kissing and sucking on your breasts.  You wrap your arms around the back of his neck.  Your hands in his hair.  He suckles, rolling his tongue over your nipple.  Sending jolts radiating out through you.  He palms your other breast, pinching your nipple, before switching breasts.

You moan and feel your cunt flood.   You have never been wetter than you are right this very second.  “Oh god!”  You moan.  Your fists tighten in his hair and you pull it.  “Steve!   Oh my god!”

His pulls off your breast dragging his teeth over your nipple as he does he fumbles with the hem of your yoga pants.  He finally manages to get the grip he wants and nearly yanks you onto the floor with him.  You yelp, somehow managing to stay on the bed and he pulls your pants and underwear off in one go, tossing them to the side.

He spreads your legs and starts kissing up the inside of your thighs.  “Can I?”  He asks and nods in the direction of your pussy.

“Really?  Why?”  You ask, feeling a little embarrassed.  All the stigma of how it should smell or taste rushing into your head at once.

“I just… I really want to.”  Steve says.

You squirm a little and he runs his finger up your folds.  You hum at the first really intimate touch you’ve received there from anyone other than yourself.  “Okay.  But you don’t have to.  If you don’t like it.”

His mouth is on you before you’ve even finished talking.  He starts by placing large open mouth kisses on your folds before moving on to licking.  He needs some direction.  His tongue slithers inside you early on, which really just feels weird rather than good.  “Not like that.  You say.  Higher.  The little nub.”

Steve follows your directions and learns quickly.  Soon keying into the subtle ways your body reacts, letting him know you’re enjoying it too.  Soon the reactions aren’t subtle at all.  You’ve fallen back on the bed.  He’s put your legs over his broad shoulders and you’re coming apart under his mouth.  You can’t keep quiet a all.  And when your first orgasm crashes over you it is more intense than any you have ever brought on yourself.  Even when you used toys.

“Holy shit!”  You pant when he finally comes up for air.  His mouth glistening and a look on his face like a puppy that just learned a new trick.  “Let me do you.”

He stands and you fumble with his fly before he brushes your hands away and just unfastens it himself.  He drops his pants and steps out of them, leaving you facing his cock.  He is fully erect, and it stand almost upright, reaching his belly button.  You blink up at him, not even sure what you’re supposed to do with such a behemoth.

“It’s big I know.”  He says, sounding a little proud of himself.

You swallow and look from it and to his face.  “When we get to the sex part, you’re gonna need to go really slow.”  You say.

He nods.  “Of course.”

You take him into your hand and run your tongue flat over his shaft and lap over the head.  He moans and keeps his eyes fixed on you.  You start to suck.  Just the head first, pumping his shaft in your fist.  You then try and take him as deep as you can possibly fit.

Steve gasps and his hips snap forward, pushing him a little further down and making you gag and pull back, drool running down your chin.  You slowly find your rhythm, and Steve mimics it, gently rocking his hips with your mouth.  His hands go to your hair and he pulls.  Not hard enough to hurt, but with a definite force.  It makes you moan around his cock.

Steve starts to moan and you can see his chest start to rise and fall rapidly as he pants.  He pulls back from you gently, his hand still in your hair.  “Better stop or that’s gonna be all that we do tonight.”

You smirk up at him and start moving back on the bed.  He follows after you.  He kisses his way up your legs and over your stomach.  He once again teases at your nipples with his teeth before continuing his journey up.  When he finally brings his lips to yours, the salty-sweet flavor of your cunt filling your mouth, you feel the press of his cock on your entrance.

“Steve.  Do you have protection?”  You ask.

“Shit!”  He curses.  “No!  I mean, why would I?”

He climbs off you sitting up.  “Shit.  I’m so sorry, sweetheart.  Maybe another night we can … I don’t know … go out to dinner and try again?”

You climb off the bed and scoop his t-shirt off the floor.  “Give me a couple of minutes.”  You say, pulling his shirt on and creeping out into the compound.

You go straight to the bathroom you share with Natasha and the other women and start digging around in it.

“What are you looking for?”  A bleary-eyed looking Natasha asks you.  You spin around to face her.  She’s wearing the shirt Bucky had on earlier and she yawns loudly, rubbing her eyes.

“Nothing.  Just go back to bed.”  You whisper.

“I would if a herd of water buffalo wasn’t currently occupying my bathroom.  Just tell me.”  Natasha says.

“I just need some condoms okay?”  You snap.

Natasha eyes you.  “Why?  Who are you having sex with?”

“No one.  I just want to make a water balloon and drop it from the roof.”  You answer.

“Then why are you wearing Steve’s shirt?”  Natasha asks.  “Besides that’s stupid,  it wouldn’t even break.”

“That’s why I want to do it.  Because it not breaking would look cool.”  You finally find a stash and take a couple out.

Natasha puts her hand on yours.  “Not those ones.  They’d never fit Steve.”  She opens another drawer and grabs a couple from there.  She hands them to you.  She then pulls out a bottle of lube and presses it in your hand.  “Take this too.  If he’s anything like James, you’re gonna want that as well.”

You don’t even have a chance to say thank you when she disappears back into her room.

“What’s going on?” You hear Bucky ask.

“Your best friends about to get laid.  Go back to sleep.”  Natasha answers.

“About fuckin’ time,”  Bucky grumbles.

You shake your head not sure if you should laugh or feel mortified.  You dash back to Steve’s room.   He’s sitting against the headboard, hand resting on his erection.  You fly in and jump into his lap.  “Got some.”  You say triumphantly, tearing his shirt off your body again and throwing it across the room.

Steve takes one and no matter how hard he tries he can’t get the pack to open.  He even tries using his teeth.  You take it off him and tear it open easily, handing the now open packet back.

“What the hell kind of voodoo was that?”  Steve asks, taking the condom out and rolling it down over his cock.

“You totally loosened it up for me.”  You laugh.  He pulls you into a hard kiss and you straddle his lap and start grinding your pussy over his cock.  When he breaks the kiss you squeeze the gel into your hand and start slicking his cock.  Steve moans as you apply the substance.  You use a ludicrous amount.  It coats him fully and drips down between his legs.

“I think that’s probably enough.”  Steve groans, nuzzling into your neck.

“It’s just - You’re really big, Steve.”  You whine.

You take his cock into your hand and start guiding him into you.  Steve is infinitely patient with you as you take your time letting your body adjust to him.  You allow for the burn as your entrance stretches and becomes used to the new shape it’s being pushed into.  Eventually, you bottom out and you stop and just sit with him inside you, eyes closed and relaxing.

“Are you okay?”  Steve asks gently.

You nod.  “Just give me a second.”

Steve cups your jaw and kisses you.  You give yourself to it and slowly start to rock.

Having him inside you is so much different than anything you’ve experienced before.  Yes, you’d used toys before.  Yes, they felt good, and in some ways even better than this.  Toys were designed specifically to get you off after all.  Fucking Steve was so much more than a toy could ever be.  He was hard but supple.  He moved in ways you didn’t expect and couldn’t predict.  He filled you and stretched you but his flesh had give letting you squeeze and pulse around it.  When you did he reacted by moaning and clenching his body.  He was running hot and that heat passed into you, making you both sweat.

The feedback was the bit you liked best. When he kissed and bit at you.  The way he moaned.  The way his cock pulsed inside you and his fingers bit into your flesh.

“Oh god.  Damn it feels so good inside you.  Why did I wait so long?”  He moans and starts thrusting up into you.

You start moving faster trying to bring an orgasm along with the one that seems to be coming nearer and nearer for Steve.  You bring your fingers to your clit and start to rub.  Steve leans you back a little and latches onto one of your breasts.  It’s the three things in tandem that do it.  You come.  It’s not the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had, but it’s good.  It rolls over you and you cling to Steve as your pussy pulses around him.

It’s what send him over.  He bucks up into you and releases.  You can feel the throbbing of his cock as he spills into the condom.

You still sitting face to face resting your forehead against his.  “Holy shit.”  You sigh, when you finally regain some control over yourself.

“That was amazing.  You’re amazing.”  Steve murmurs.  You both start kissing again.  As you do you, let him slip from within you.  Eventually, you break apart and climb off his lap.  He removes the condom and ties it off throwing it in the trash.

“I guess I should go back to my room.”  You whisper, not exactly sure what you should do with yourself.

“I’d like it if you stayed,”  Steve says.  He runs his palm down your back.  It feels strong and soothing.  

You turn to look at him.  “Are you sure?  Everyone will talk.”

“I’m used to them talking.”  He says.

“What about Tony?”

Steve laughs.  “Tony probably has FRIDAY programmed to tell him if I ever have anyone in here.  Tony’s going to be Tony no matter what.”  He sighs and runs his fingers down your arm.  “If you don’t want to stay that’s fine.  But I want you to.  So please don’t leave because you think that just because we aren’t a couple I am finished with you now it’s over.  You aren’t disposable.”

You smile and peck him on the cheek.  “Won’t it be weird waking up with your friend in your bed?”

He shakes his head.  “Not when I love her as much as I do.”

He lies down and pats the spot beside him.  You snuggle down into him pulling the covers over you both.  “You’re a bit of a sweet talker you know that?”

He laughs.  “Can’t say I’ve ever been accused of that before.”  His arms wrap around you, engulfing you almost completely.  “Thank you for sharing that with me.”

You lean up and kiss the corner of his jaw.  “Thank you too.  You’re a good person Steve Rogers.  You deserve a happy ending.  More than anyone else I know.”

“Who knows.  Maybe one day we can both get that.”

[marvel-lucy]

The Walking Disaster, chapter 5

There’s really not enough Steve here, which is what everyone actually wants. Sorry. It’s entirely possible I’m a writing disaster.

All chapters are on the Walking Disaster Masterlist

I’m a bit drunk, OK. That’s why it’s happened. I mean, it could have happened to me stone cold sober, but this time at least I have an excuse.

I shove my feet into some shoes yes. Left foot, right shoe; right foot, left shoe. It’s dark too, there’s another extenuating circumstance for you right there.  So I’m sat down, I put my shoes on, I pick up my keys from the coffee table, I start walking towards the door, but my feet want to go in opposite directions, then I tread on the toe of one foot with the heel of the other, and fall straight onto the coffee table, smashing it like it was a stunt prop.  It’s loud, unexpectedly so. But even as I lie there, surrounded by bits of broken flat-pack, I distinctly hear the sound of Apartment 4’s door shutting, and footsteps walking down the hall.

Lucky escape, right.

There’s a big bit of me, the wine-fuelled, lust-laden, teen-hormone-filled bit of me, that wants to scramble to the door and pull it open, and run after him and accidentally trip and have him catch me in those strong arms, and hold me steady, gaze into my eyes and realise that there I’d been, all the time (well, a few weeks), right in front of his eyes. He’ll kiss me on my nose, and my hair will blow out majestically behind me (except for one bit that will cleverly hide my missing eyebrow) and then we’ll kiss and happily ever after will happen.  Yeah, OK, so I’ve thought about this a lot. But then there’s the other, logical, bit of me that realises in this scenario I’ll either miss him completely, or fall and knock him over, breaking his arm painfully, or he’ll catch me, and my hair will blow in my face and stick to my lips weirdly (but revealing my missing eyebrow) and he’ll look kinda weirded out, stand me back up, politely back away and move out, without leaving a forwarding address.

So instead, I lie there, feeling sorry for myself, until I fall asleep.

So now it’s Sunday morning and I feel even sorrier for myself. I wake up in a patch of overly-bright sunlight, hugging a broken table leg. I drag myself up to realise I have wood splinters stuck all over my face.  I take a long hard look at myself, pull off my mis-footed shoes, look at my apartment, and sigh.

Long, cold shower. Large, hot coffee. Plain, dry toast. Painkillers. Water. Crack open the window for some cool fresh air. Rethink life. I’m not religious but I offer up a generalised ‘anyone out there’ in the hopes of a little support, just in case. Then I sweep up my furniture, leave it in a garbage bag by the door ready to go downstairs.

Here’s the thing, me.  It ain’t going to happen. Life’s not a rom-com, and no meet-cute ever actually happens in real life. The boy next door marries someone else and the girl next door needs to do her laundry. So go do it.

Sunday morning laundry. Has there ever been a greater time to be alive? Super fun right! I collect it all up into a giant bag, and it feels like there’s every item of clothing I’ve ever owned in there. Which is why I’m wearing old pyjama trousers and the scraggiest t-shirt known to man. Dubious stains, badly placed holes, and an advert for some company I’ve never heard of. Yeah, I know, the meet-cute rules say if I’m dressed like this I’ll bump into him, right? But I’ve already told you, those rules don’t apply, so just shut UP brain.

I’m only one floor up, so there’s only two sets of stairs. Down to the lobby, then down to the basement. I’ve got my giant bag trailing behind me, a basket full of washing powder and a book and a cup of coffee juggled under the other arm. The bag slithers behind me, flumping down each step. The coffee sloshes a bit. Here’s the bit where a cute movie girl would slip on the coffee, or accidentally spill her surprisingly beautiful matching underwear all over the boy next door. Luckily my greying undies make it safely downstairs without mishap. I shove it all in the machine, I sit in a chair and drink my coffee and stare at my book for a while, then doze off.  Then I shove it all in another machine, doze off some more, then shove it all back in my bag.

Even my own brain is bored at this point, and it’s the one narrating this.

Then I flump it all back upstairs, bumping on each step two flights up, then I get there, and tuck the huge bag awkwardly under my arm as I reach for my keys.  My keys.  Which I last saw on the coffee table, before I broke it. The coffee table that is in pieces on the other side of my extremely locked door. Fuuuuuuuck. I was doing so well at avoiding the disaster clichés this morning too.

I’m not quite sure how long I stand there, basket in one arm, bag in the other, forehead resting against my door, softly whispering ‘fuck’ to myself. Let’s just say it was only seconds, OK. Allow me that much dignity. But apparently Sunday morning laundry is a thing, so who else do you think decides to do it? There he is folks, it’s Mr Apartment 4, Captain Handsome, the Meet-Cute that never was because we’ve already met and it sure wasn’t cute.

‘Are you… trying to walk through the door?’ He says that as if he actually thinks someone like me might try it. (I have. It doesn’t work. I still have a scar. Don’t ask, it’s a thing). I can’t even be bothered to lift my head up to be honest, so I leave my forehead resting on the door, and just rotate slightly. My hair catches as I turn.

‘Is your eyebrow supposed to look like that?’ I’m so done at this point, that I just smile. This is me, in all my glory. Run while you still can!

‘My keys, right now, are only four inches from my hand. But this door is slightly in the way of me getting them.’ I demonstrate which door I mean by banging on it slightly. With my head. I’m having a bad day, OK.

‘Ah. That explains the fuck. Um. What explains the eyebrow?’ He actually looks concerned, as if he’s genuinely asking, but actually, wait. His mouth is twitching slightly, and I can see he’s trying really hard not to laugh, but this is me, OK. I’m not going to be Nat. So he’s never going to like me, so I’m not going to try and hide it any more.  The bag slides out from under my arm and splits as it hits the floor, so my laundry slides like a wave across the hall, a shimmering wave of greying and holey sweatpants and sports bras, all mismatched of course. I put the basket down, and the washing powder tips over, and powder starts to pour out into a tiny mountain, just waiting for miniature skiiers to take to its slopes.  I. Don’t. Care. What’s the point in even trying?

This has only taken seconds, of course, and he’s still watching me but now he’s actually smiling. Ok, grinning. Woah, here comes a chuckle.

I turn around, rest my back against the door, and slide down it, until I’m sitting down. My feet knock over the powder mountain as I go, then end up resting in a pile of clothes.

‘I singed my eyebrow cooking. So I cut bangs to hide my eyebrow. Then I wore a cap to hide my bangs. But I was leaning out the window yesterday and my cap fell off. So I’m just wearing this brow with pride now.’

‘And the bandages?’  I look down at the greying bandages wrapped around my fingers.

‘Also cooking. The pile of wood inside my door wasn’t the result of cooking though. That’s the result of putting on my shoes. I am multi-talented in the inept department. I’ve won prizes for incompetence, but I lost them somewhere. I got a medal for most hospital appointments as a child but I swallowed it. I have lost my keys so many times that the super buys them in bulk. I am banned from all glassware shops in a three mile radius and when it’s icy, all local ER departments have a special cubicle set aside for me to have my bones set. My name is used in global alert systems to indicate an above ‘red’ level catastrophe. I am, to use the technical term, a freaking disaster.’

I look up to see how my rambling’s gone down, but he’s not there. Or not where I expect him to be anyway. His head is no longer six foot something up in the air, but is about level with mine.  He’s cross-legged on the floor, still with that toothy grin on, but he’s using his finger to poke around the washing powder, and he’s drawn a smily face with it. The bozo. Here I am being woeful and he’s cheering me up.

‘Is your window open?’

‘Um, yeah, why?’

‘So’s mine. You could go out my window, go along the fire escape, and let yourself in.  Or, I mean, you could live out here now. Either is fine.’

‘You’re suggesting that I, me, this person here, crawls out of an open window above ground level, walks along a rusting fire escape, pulls open another window, and crawls through?’

‘Yeah. It’ll be fun to watch. I’ll film it for YouTube.’

He’s definitely smiling at me now, but you know what, it’s OK. I don’t feel like blushing, I don’t feel like the butt of the joke, I feel like it’s OK to be chaos personified for a change.  So, I scoop up my laundry into the remains of the bag, and I go into his apartment. I’m not looking round, because that would be rude, but my peripheral vision is working way overtime taking it all in. There’s a load of art stuff, easels and paints. There’s a big TV and a laptop, and some unwashed mugs. It’s not that tidy, it’s kind of lived in and nice. Over by the window, there’s a sketchbook, the pages ruffled in the breeze, so I can’t see what he’s been drawing.

He slides the window a bit further up, and I stick one leg over the windowsill, and try to pull the other one over. I teeter for a little bit, but make it safely.  Then I make the mistake of looking down. I can see all the way down because there seems to be a lot of holes in this fire escape, and the bits that aren’t holes are mostly rust. But I’ve got this, I can do walking (let’s not remember the times I can’t).  I keep one hand on the wall, and try and stride purposefully along, but I’m doing these teeny little steps and when the metal lets out a kind of squawk, so do I.

I turn back for a second, and he’s got his head stuck out of the window watching. And yes, he’s filming it, just in case my plunge to the death can earn him a few dollars.  I’d make a rude gesture but I’m afraid of moving too much.

It’s not that far, so even at my glacial pace I make it to the window pretty quickly, then I wedge my fingers in the crack of the window and heave it up. I don’t get it very far, but I just want in by then, so I squeeze through, dangling half way for longer than is elegant, with just my backside and legs waving out of the window. I can definitely hear a snort and I really hope this doesn’t get uploaded anywhere.

Then I’m in, my head all red and sweaty from being upside down, and there’s my keys, on the shelf by the door, right where I’d put them for safekeeping while I cleared up my broken table. I grab them up, and I pull the window open, and I make my way back out.

Yes, you heard me.

I squeeze out of my own window, and I edge along the fire escape as it groans even louder, and the whole time Steve is watching me and doing that thing where you laugh so hard you can’t make any noise, so he’s just clutching at his chest and gasping. Thanks for all the help.

When I get to his apartment, he’s blocking half the window, hanging out of it. I edge past him, trying to get my leg over the sill, but there’s not much room so I end up tumbling through, and slowly sliding headfirst across his floor as my legs come into the room.  But I made it. I’m here.

‘You know…’ he’s squeaking, as he tries to catch his breath. ‘You could…. Oh god…. You….’  His hands are on his knees and his face is purple. I pull myself to sitting and wonder if I need to do the Heimlich manoeuvre, or CPR, or give him a shot from an epi-pen or something.  Finally he manages to heave in enough air and stands up, wiping his eyes.

‘You could just have opened your door.’

---

@patzammit @melconnor2007 @avengerscompound @kittyslove @badassbaker @phoenix21love @lbouvet  @bellenuit45 @prplprincez  @gingerrootknits @pineapplebooboo @feelmyroarrrr @avengerofyourheart @eyeofdionysus @hellomissmabel @learisa @mitra-k-w @imhereforbvcky @shaddixlife @supernatural-girl97 @iwillbeinmynest @amrita31199 @algud @whatsbetterthanfantasy @pixierox101 @edward-lover18 @madcheshire89  @heartfulloffandoms @chipilerendi @kenya-17 @mckorni32843 @amandarosemire @rda89 @nyxveracity @sea040561 @mrsalh32611 @ruinerofcheese @callmebucky-doll @vintagepigeon @bubbasmom @sassycanoodler @ladylorelitany @natcad @thisismysecrethappyplace @geeksareunique @mywinterwolf  @moderapoppins @rinthehufflepuff @holyfuckloueh @onebatch--twobatch @algud 

[klymilark]

Sore: Chapter 1

CW: Swearing

Word Count: 2007

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

“Shit, that was a long drive” Kaye says, as she closes the door to the box truck she rented.  Her waist length reddish-brown hair is braided off to the side.  

“Yeah.  I remember when I made it a few years back.  15 hours, if memory serves?” Don replies.  It looks like he’s finally shaved his head.  He’s been balding since he was 20, well before Kaye met him, but she’s seen the pictures.  He looked almost like he could’ve been a teacher in his graduation photo.

“19.  I spent 19 hours behind the wheel of that thing.  Only stopped to sleep.  Why is this country so big, anyway?” Kaye responded, standing up straight after cracking what feels like every joint in her body, her chin coming up to the bottom of the window of the truck.

“Eminent domain.  Wait, only to sle-” Don starts

“Yep.  Only to sleep. Packed enough food for the trip, so I didn’t need to stop for that.”  Kaye says, cutting him off.

“But what did you do about the ba-”  Don starts, once again.  Kaye really hasn’t changed much since they last spoke in person.

“Drank it.  Wanna stop in for some coffee?”  Kaye asks.

She really hasn’t changed.  Don can never tell if she’s joking, and sometimes he just doesn’t want to know.  This is definitely one of those times.

They walk into the coffee shop, and Kaye orders a breakfast sandwich with tea.  Don’s already eaten, since he kind of forgot until Kaye texted him 30 minutes ago, so he just gets coffee.  They sit down, and Kaye groans in pleasure from sitting down in a decent chair for the first time in what feels like years.  Kaye stuffs the sandwich into her face, downs the tea, then gets a refill.  She’s been living off of bologna sandwiches, soda, energy drinks, and a single sports drink for the past two days. A hot meal was much appreciated, given the circumstances.

“So,” Don asks, “how was the trip?”

“Well, I finally caught up on the podcasts I’ve been putting off listening to for far too long.  Besides that, I stared at asphalt for 19 hours.  I’m kind of bored.” Kaye responds, like Don should have already known.

Don chuckles, “I see you still haven’t learned that people mostly want to hear ‘Good’ in response to that question.”

“No, I have.  I always have.  I’ve just never cared.”  She says, putting emphasis on the word cared.

“Right.  I forgot that social norms have never been your thing” Don responds with a smile.

“I mean, given my life, why would they be?” She responds

They spend another hour or so catching up.  She asks how he and his wife are doing, and everything’s fine on his front.  A couple of waves here and there, especially since the move.  They miss their families, and it’s kind of a strain, but it’s nothing they can’t work through.  The usual thing for a couple that’s getting into their thirties.  He’s made new friends, got a promotion at work, and has his own life now.  Kaye says she’s happy for him, and they go over to his place so she can crash for the night.

This is the first time Kaye’s seen his place in person.  It’s a rather duplex in a decent part of town.  Very much a red brick home in the middle of town that the right type of person would say is to die for.  Kaye’s not that right type of person, but she can definitely appreciate the look of it.  Don walks in while Kaye is grabbing her overnight bag.

Kaye walks in, and is assaulted by family pictures on the wall.  Definitely a traditional family home; all white walls, popcorn ceilings, a computer off to the right hand side next to the dining room, but still in the living room.  She plops her bag down on the gray sofa up against the front picture window, and waltzes into the kitchen where Don is chatting with his wife.

“Kaye. Carmela. Barker! How have you been?!”  Amie says immediately after noticing her high school buddy at her front door.

“Amie.  Cornelia. Simmons.  I’ve been great!” Kaye responds, very sarcastically. Amie’s been one of her better supporters during the past year or so.  It’s been abysmal, but Kaye’s been able to keep her head up, largely thanks to this lady right here.

“Wow, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you.  The years have definitely done you well.” Amie says, commenting on the appearance she knows Kaye is rather sensitive towards.  It’s very much appreciated.

“Thanks!  I really like your style now.  Makes me feel bad that I’m just standing here in my sweats, and a worn out t-shirt.”  Kaye responds with a chuckle.

“Oh, sure, now your social instincts kick in.  Now that my wife is in the room.  Why can’t you be that way wi-” Don starts

“Because fuck you is why.” Kaye responds. Amie can barely contain a laugh at the sudden shift in tone.

“Ouch.  That stung.” Don responds with a very overly dramatic hurt tone to his voice.

“You’ll live.  You’re a strong independent man, don’t need no woman, after all”

“Gee, thanks.  Guess I’ll just leave, then,” Amie says.

“Suppose that makes two of us,” Kaye responds.

“Shall we?” Amie says as she motions to the door.

“Let’s.” Kaye says, and they both head towards the door.

“Hey!  No fair!” Don says from the couch.

Amie turns around, and smiles slyly.  As she walks to the couch, a look of concern and excitement comes onto Don’s face.  She straddles him, her legs either side of his, and puts her hands on the side of his neck.  As she does, she leans in, and kisses him directly on the lips, the left cheek, then the right.  She then clamps her teeth down onto the right side of his neck.

“We’ll finish this later,” she whispers, just loud enough for Kaye to catch what she says, “Kaye and I have some catching up to do, and we’d like some privacy.”

“Okay, sweetheart.  Take your time,” he says, then snaps his teeth.

Amie giggles, and climbs off of the couch.  They walk to the master bedroom, Don sitting on the couch.

“Things never really change, do they,” Kaye asks with a smile, plopping down onto the bed.

“Not really.  Now, tell me, how much do you have in terms of clothes?” Amie asks.

“Well, I have a few hoodies, some pants, an-” Kaye starts.

“You know full well what I meant.” Amie finishes.

“Oh.  Right.  That.” Kaye says, realizing that this was going to be a less than comfortable conversation, “I have a couple of night shirts, and some underwear.  That’s about all I could keep usefully.  I didn’t see much use in buying ultra-femme clothing I wouldn’t be able to wear.”

“I’m sorry to hear, but we’re going to fix that.” Amie says, smiling like a kid in a candy store, “What style did you want to go for?”

“I was thinking more butc-” Kaye starts.

“No.  What style do you want to go for?” Amie interjects, correcting a misunderstanding.

Kaye sits on the bed, staring into the full-length mirror that Amie has set up in her room. She turns on the bed to look at herself directly.  She imagines herself in a black mid-calf dress with ruffles on the sleeves.  No, that’s not quite it.  She imagines herself full butch, and while the thought is appealing, it’s only so because of comfort.  She racks her brain trying to think of how she wants to look.

“I don’t know!” She says, rather loudly, as she bursts into tears.

Crying has never been her strong suit, and speaking while doing it was even less so.  Amie sits on the bed next to Kaye, lays down, and pulls her down.  They lay there like that for a while, just like they did when they were in high school.  Amie just sort of had an instinct on calming her down, and Kaye definitely appreciated that.  After ten, fifteen, maybe thirty minutes, Amie speaks up.

“Are you alright now?” She asks, a slight concern in her voice.

“I think so,” Kaye responds, still slightly sniffling.

“Good.  I know this is a sensitive time for you, but let’s get you in some clothes that fit.” Amie says.

“Thank you,” Kaye says as she sits up.

“That’s what I’m here for” She responds, standing to grab a dress.

It’s a black dress with orange flowers printed everywhere on it.  The dress has been fashioned out of 8 pieces of fabric, and is rather stretchy.  The skirt looks like it would stop just past Kaye’s finger tips when she stood upright.  She marveled at it; she hadn’t been able to try something on that looked so right in a long time.

“Do you have a bra on you?” Amie asks.

“Yeah.  It’s in my bag.”  She responds, reaching for the bag.

Kaye unzips her overnight bag, which had a few essentials in it.  Toothbrush, hair brush, comb, and the bra that Amie said to bring in when she came over for the night.  She pulls it out, and it’s a rather basic thing; underwire, lace wings on the back, slightly padded cups, and it fit about as well as she wanted to shop for, given the anxiety.

“Good.  Now, put the dress on.” Amie says.

“Okay.” Kaye responds nervously.

Kaye takes her shirt off, and puts her bra on.  Amie’s seen a lot of her, so it’s nothing she hasn’t seen before.  Kaye then removes her sweatpants, revealing legs which look like they’ve never been shaved.  At least her leg hair is light.  Kaye sits there, staring at the dress.  Her brain is screaming at her to put it on, that she’ll be happier, but her body is doing nothing but disagreeing.  Now that what she wants is well within her grasp, she can’t even move her arms.

“Come on, Kaye.  It’s not the first time you’ve done this.  Remember when we were kids?” Amie says, patiently.

“Yeah, I do, but it’s been a while.  I haven’t worn a dress since well before you moved here.” Kaye responds.

“I know, and I’m sorry that I couldn’t be there for you like I used to these past few years.  But, now that you’re here, I can be here for you just like I was before.” Amie says, smiling.

Kaye chuckles, “Thank you.  Everything you’ve done is very much appreciated.” Kaye says, smiling back.

“Now, would it help if I put the dress on for you, or do you want to do it yourself?” Amie asks.

“I’ll do it myself, it’ll just take me a minute.” Kaye responds, while moving to sit on the bed.

“Alright.” Amie says, sitting beside her.

Kaye grabs the dress, and pulls it to her lap.  As she feels the material, she realizes she likes it.  It’s a very soft, knit material.  She picks it up, opens the bottom, and puts it on.  She adjusts the front seam so it’s straight down the front, and as she looks down, it feels odd.  Odd in the good way, though; a feeling of joy she hasn’t felt in years sinks in.  She stands up, and twists around so Amie can see.

“You’re so pretty!” Amie says, standing up, and holding her arms out for a hug.

Kaye, barely being able to stand at this point, just collapses in her arms.  Amie leaned back onto the bed, where they laid for a few minutes.

“Let’s go in the living room.” Amie says

“If you insist” Kaye responds.

They walk into the living room, and Don comments on the dress.  Kaye gives a simple thanks before collapsing on the couch, more exhausted than she’s ever been.  Amie joins, sitting between Don and Kaye.  After a short time of watching TV, and cuddling, Kaye passes out, and the other two head for the room to call it a night.

Chapter 2

Search sbbl on my blog to find the rest of the chapters, as well!

[buckysforeverprincess]

Switch -Part 2

Bucky Barnes x Reader, Avengers

Words: 2097

Warnings: Language, female presenting nipples, sexual situations

A/N: I decided to make this a 3 part thing, because part 2 was extremely long and I wanted this to have it’s own moment. The smut comes in part 3. Enjoy.

No one knew what to say. Everything screamed Y/N! The voice, the body all of it. Nothing outwardly had changed. Steve and Sam just thought Y/N had gone crazy, and Wanda and Nat both crossed their arms and smirked. You decided to take a seat on the counter and wait for the fireworks to really begin.  

“Morning all-what the hell, Y/N?!” Tony has finally made his way to the common area to join everyone for breakfast. He missed the initial scream but is now here for the show that is the now ‘The Winter Soldier: Body Snatcher’. “Have too much fun with the playboy last night and forget your clothes?!” The genius goes straight for the coffee maker deciding he needed more of it before having to deal with the events unfolding in the kitchen.  

“Morning Barnes!” Tony gives a casual nod to you sitting on the counter. You take a sip of the liquid in the cup, and immediately Tony notices something is off.

“Since when do you drink coffee, ice king...and in Y/N’s cup, no less?”

The only thing you can do is shrug and wait for the others to catch on.

“You!” Bucky turns his direction to the Scarlet Witch, “you did this to me, didn't you?!” Bucky's in her face at this point, but it's not as intimidating as it would be if he was in his super soldier body. She can't help but laugh at his efforts.

“I have no idea what you're talking about!” Wanda laughs in his face, repeating the same words he has said to her many times after playing one of his jokes on her.

“Don't lie to me you witch! This is payback for yesterday isn't it?”  

“Wait…” Sam stops Wanda from answering, having questions of his own, “Y/N...what could she have possibly done to you? I mean...did she make you hotter? Because damn girl! That ass though!!”

“Did you just fucking objectify my girlfriends body?” Bucky moves and is now in Sam’s face pointing a finger at him.

“I mean-you are, ya know wearing a thong and I'm a man that loves ass dimples!”

Steve has now started laughing hysterically and has doubled over from laughing so hard. Tony makes his way from the coffee to check out the look Bucky is sporting so he's not left out.

“Those are really nice. Perfect for hand placement-”

“Don't fucking finish that thought, tin man, so help me God!” Bucky has directed his finger Tony’s way.

The whole group is laughing sans Bucky. He's getting more and more pissed off with each passing moment, and you're just sitting there…on the counter, enjoying your coffee. No need to get involved quite yet. This is way too much fun.

“Someone needs to explain what the hell is going on!” Bucky demands, crossing his arms to his chest and covering your exposed breasts, standing like a petulant child. Thank god you don't have issues with your body, because this could've become awkward real fast.

“Y/N…why don't you tell us what it is you remember.” Nat says very calmly, not giving away how much she already knows.  

Bucky scans the room taking in all the faces looking at him obviously thinking he was crazy, before he starts to recant what he can recall. “I remember going to bed with Y/N, in my body! James Buchanan Barnes, aka Winter Soldier, me! This morning, I wake up and I'm her! This is not my body!” He pointing to himself trying to emphasize the point.  

“Definitely a nice ass body!” Sam says, and Steve gives him an elbow to the gut.

“So, someone switched your body?” Steve questions, not sure if he believes what he's hearing.

They've been pranked by Bucky too many times to count, so this could be just another of one his tricks having his girlfriend in on it. There's going to have to be a lot more convincing than just his word.

“Ugh! I don't understand how I'm in a room full of people who continually save the world, but all of you are way too fucking stupid to see what's in front of you!”

You bust out laughing like a damn hyena from the counter. Everyone has now directed their looks to you and Wanda does a faceplant with her hand. Everything had been going so well.

“Baby, do you realize what you just said?” You say in between laughs. “You're what's in front of them...you! They can clearly see you!”  

If looks could kill, you'd be dead. James/you is glaring hard at you/him. He has your face so bunched up, you're pretty sure he's going to give you permanent wrinkles on your forehead.

Bucky stalks up to you, paying no mind to everyone else in the room. “You're being unsarcastically hyper nonverbal!” He yells at you with fire in his eyes. “What is it that you know?”

This is where the fun begins, and payback becomes the worst bitch imaginable. You hop off the counter and stand over Bucky. You can see what it looks like when roles are reversed and he's towering over you. Let the games commence.

“Well, I know that right now…your tits are showing because you chose to wear that ridiculous quarter of a shirt to bed. I'm also aware of the fact that Sam had begun sexualizing you since the moment he saw you in that thong. How did you seriously let me buy that for you, you hate thongs?! But I will agree with him...that ASS though! The suddenness of the amount of crazy you've displayed here this morning can only mean one thing…...you're due to start your period any second now. I'm sorry sweetie, I'll make sure I run out and get your favorite kind of ice cream. Other than that,…good morning my love. Coffee?” You give him a grin, but this just upsets him even more.

Bucky laughs at you, but there's an intense amount of anger in his eyes. You watch him continue to laugh as he walks over to Wanda and gets back in her face.

“I don't know what you did, but it somehow involved my girlfriend over there!” Bucky’s pointing at you now. “I will find out the truth…but for now...I really have to go pee!”

Bucky turns and stomps back to your room.

“Sweetheart!” You yell out before he makes it through the threshold, making him stop and look over his shoulder waiting for you to speak. “Always overnight or extra heavy? Oh, how about tampons this time, I can get those?”

Bucky inhales a deep breath and throws up a middle finger at you without even batting an eye, and continues into the bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

“So, spill ice age...what'd you do to our sweet Y/N?” Tony’s grabbed a bagel and is spreading cream cheese on it.

“I really have no idea what's going on!” You're trying to look as puzzled as possible to avoid further questioning.

“I hate to admit this, but I have to go with Tony on this one…,” Sam has made his way into the center of the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of juice, “you're both acting crazy this morning. Did something happen between you two?”

The door to the bedroom opens and once again Bucky/you comes out, but this time he's managed to find your extremely short black mini skirt, and blue midriff shirt. Oh, looks like he found a bra…but what about...oh you dirty asshole!  

“Baby?” Bucky walks over and places his/your ass right up against the shorts he slept in last night and rubs himself up and down the front of you. “I'm so sorry for the way I behaved.” His movements becoming hotter by the second. “I didn't mean to cause a scene. I promise to do better daddy!”

The last words were all it took, and you were now fully turned on, Bucky's cock standing at attention. How in the fuck did that happen? God damn him for being an expert in kinky fuckery!

“Oh daddy…did I do that?!” Bucky turns around and faces you, taking his hand and rubbing the hard member through your shorts.

“Fuck…” It comes out as a whisper, but Bucky hears it and keeps rubbing you with his hands.  

No one was moving. They're all stuck in place watching what's happening between the two of you. Normally, you guys would disappear at this point, so no one was traumatized by your actions, but today Bucky didn't care and everyone else was fully intent on watching the show Bucky was attempting to put on. Well played, asshole…well played.  

“Let me take care of you…”

Bucky reaches into the shorts and starts rubbing your hand on his cock. You close your eyes and a shiver runs through your body. The hand on what is now your dick feels so fucking good. You’re pretty sure Bucky’s trying to get you to come in front of everyone, and that has your brain come back to reality.

“Sweetie, what are you doing? This is bedroom activity, you know that.”

Bucky stops suddenly and begins glaring at you. He lets out a huff and removes his hand from your shorts. Bucky starts to walk away again but stops right at the threshold of your room just like before. This time, Bucky/you turns around and faces the entire group. He looks directly at you and gives you a huge smirk.

“Should’ve known you wouldn't cave that easy. I know you’re aware what’s going on, so….” Bucky pauses and lifts the midriff over his head and undoes the bra, exposing your breasts to every single person in the room.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. Record this!” Tony demands of the A.I., while Steve covers his eyes, and Sam crosses his arms and nods in approval.

“Take a good hard look!” You watch him grab at your nipples, pinching at them hard and moaning something loud and pornographic. “You now have to live with the fact that every single one of them have seen your perfect breasts and watched me touch your perky tight nipples. Once you see, you can't unsee!” Bucky blows you one last kiss and enters your bedroom shutting the door.

“You're fucked!” Nat looks over at you with an amused smile and begins to laugh at what just took place.

“This ain't over, darlin’…I got all day!” Your run your hands through the long brown hair, figuring out your next step.

“Buck, what did you do?” Steve walks over to the island and gives you his best Captain America stance.

“I woke up, Steve. I woke up.”  

Tony continues to look at the door of the bedroom Bucky and you occupy, waiting for another show. When he realizes it's not happening he decides it’s time for real talk. “For some reason, ice capades, I don't believe you. She just let us see her boobs….and you're ok with it? I mean, I'm all for it, she has a great rack…but any other time you'd beat the living hell out of us for even thinking about looking. What's up?” You remain silent as you shrug your shoulders at Tony, not knowing what to say.  

“I'm calling bull shit as well…” Sam starts to chime in “I've seen her in more and you've threatened to rearrange my face via that arm! What gives?”

Jesus, they're calling you out. They know something’s not right, and you have no idea how to get yourself out of this one.  

“Hold on everyone!” Nat speaks up, coming to your defense. “Y/N is my best friend. I'd be the first to know if something was wrong. Trust me…that's normal Y/N when she's about to go on a mission. She's just never let you see that side of her.”

Tony starts shaking his head, “nope, don't buy it! Boobs, Nat! Boobs!” Tony exclaims, and Steve palms his face.

“Can we not point out one of my best friends boobs to the world?” Cap asks while rubbing his face.

“Why? I mean-you can't not look.”

Wanda rolls her eyes at your comment and shakes her head. “You should go get dressed Bucky. Go talk to your girlfriend.” She gives you a stern look and you sigh heavily, accepting defeat and make your way to the bedroom door.

You pause before entry, taking one last look at your friends trying to commit their faces to memory before walking in to face a very pissed off Bucky Barnes/you. They all wave to you, and you give a two-finger salute before opening the door and walking into certain death.

[the-mira-life-project-mtf]

Bought My First Bra (& More) (My MtF~HRT Journey)

In the past few posts, I’ve written my struggle to find a proper bra that will fit me well, and to know exactly which cup size I am.

Yesterday, I opened up to my mom and sister about my issues, telling them about the horrible back pain and the fact that I have grown so much in the chest. Even though it is hard to accept the fact ... I no longer just have a chest...I have breasts. These last two months (even now), I’ve been going through a massive growth spurt and my sports bra I have wore is just too small!

This morning, we went to Silverdale Mall to go to Lane Bryant to ask for a fitting. We were 10 minutes early, so we waited...the anticipation seem to scare my mother then me! When the store opened, I was greeted by the store attendant and asked without hesitation:

“I need a fitting, I am transgender and need a bra that will fit and support my cleavage.” I did not know how she’d react, and surprisingly she was more then happy to help.

I was taken back and was taught how to measure: “Take the above bust” as she wrapped the tape around my chest “46” and then wrapped around my breasts and said “49.” as she looked at me. “Your a C-cup, maybe D.”

“Mom and my sister helped, said I was A-cup...”

She looks at me, “You don’t look like a A...maybe a B.” as my math argued that I was also between a C and “But that is my opinion...”

“Do you have a bra in that size?” I ask, wanting my first bra and since she is so kind, I wanted to buy.

“Certainly!” she chimes. She and I look at bras, trying on 44s and 46s. “Want to try them on?”

“May I?” as she smiles and nod. She takes me to a changing room as I take three bras inside.

“What’s your name darling?” she asks me.

“Mira.” I reply.

“I’ll put your name on the door so no one goes inside.” as I look at the bra.

‘How the hell do I put this thing on?’ I wondered as I look at the thing. I look at the cup ‘It’s huge! I’m not going to fill that!’ as I try the bra on...but I struggle. I wiggle into my bra, it fits amazing! I fill the cup and I can’t believe it! I check the tag ‘Hmm...C?’ C’s are rare in transgender individuals.

“I might have butchered your name.” she tells me as I smile and nod, out of sight.

‘I thought Mira would be a easy name...but most struggle with it!’ as I try on each bra.

I am shocked I fit nice in a B-cup, however I have a little room in a C-cup; which I calculated as my MtF individuals continue to grow for 3 years.

Of the bras, a 44 was tight and 46 was comfortable. However, a 44C was nice, and a 44B would be tight, but a 46C would be loose and a 46B would be nice...it was backwards!

When I come out with my choice (46C), I look at the name tag: Myrah ‘Look...another new name!’

As I show the bra that I want, she offered some advice. “Was it snug? Did it feel comfortable?”

“It was nice, but cup was large on me.” I tell her. I show her the black bra. “This one will do.”

“Maybe a 46B will fit better, but I’ll have to order it.” she says. I nod as a C has a lot of room. Also, transgender individuals rarely see a C-cup...so I am doubtful.

“Good idea, may I look at clothes?” I ask as she nods. I look in the clearance section. I selected three shirts. “May I try these on please, I want to be certain they fit!” she nods. So back to the changing room I go.

Unknown to me at the time, the retailer looks st the bras I tried on. She asks my mom. “Does she know to loosen the straps?” as mom shakes her head.

“I don’t think so.”

The retailer takes a bra to the changing room. “I have another bra for you to try Myrah.” as she hands it to me and I look at it. 44C. I struggle into the bra as I wonder just how much I fill the C-cup and as I look inside and see my breast fills the whole cup. ‘I guess I am a C.’

Back out, I buy a 44C (still flabbergasted) bra and three shirts.

My experience at Lane Bryant was amazing as I will continue to use them to shop in the future!

[ohgodwhy151]

If your still taking one shots requests!! How about an ereannie one shot where Annie is a tattoo artist and Eren is a florist lol ^^

BOOM took me pretty much all day but here it is! I had a lot of fun writing this one since it kinda flips the roles. Everyone would think Annie would run a little flower shop by herself but not this time. I hope you enjoy and if you have any one-shot ideas send them my way! 

Just ResearchEren flipped the sign on the shop window around to ‘Open’ and unlocked the front door. Looking behind he crossed his arms. “Maybe I should have kept it shut today.” Walking around he took a deep breath through the nose as he inspected the window shelves and couldn’t help but smile. “I guess it could be worse.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small piece of paper. “Water the window plants, plant the seeds labeled spring, clean the soil off the floor and be nice to customers.” Eren sighed and shrugged his shoulders. “Shouldn’t be too difficult.” He said walking into the back of the shop.

Half an hour later Eren put the watering can down to wipe the sweat from his brow and tie his hair back in a messy bun. Taking a moment he did a quick count to see how many pots he had left to water. “Maybe I’ll take a lunch break once I’m done. Besides no is going to buy flowers this early in the morning.”

Motivated by his growling stomach Eren quickly finished watering all the plants on his list, admiring his work Eren took off his apron and nodded to himself. Smiling to himself, Eren went to find his wallet when he heard the door swing open.

Cursing under his breath Eren dusted the soil off of himself and went out to the shop front with the biggest smile he could muster. “Good morning,” He said as sweetly as possible. “Can I help you?”

The customer looked up from a potted tulip and crossed her arms. “I take it you’re a florist?” She asked.

Eren narrowed his eyes at the woman before him. She was wearing a coal black, leather biker suit that spanned from her feet up to her neck. However, when he looked her in her the eye he felt his heart pound against his ribs. Her eyes were a steely blue that pierced straight through him. “W-what can I help you with?” Eren asked while trying to clear his throat.

“I’m looking for inspiration.” The woman said as she placed a large helmet on the counter.

“For what?”

A smirk picked at her lips as she unzipped her uniform. Reaching inside she pulled out a small folder and laid it next to her helmet. “Designs.” She said turning to the first page.     

Leaning over Eren found himself looking at a series of intricate drawings. He reached out and ran his fingers across the paper. “These are amazing,” He gasped. “Are these sunflowers?”

The woman crossed her arms and nodded. She leant back and watched as Eren turned page, after page. Eventually, Eren had to stop himself. “So is for an art project?”

“Kind of.” She shrugged.

“So you’re looking for some flowers?”

The woman nodded. “Something… striking.”

Eren cupped his chin and hummed. Slowly he looked up at the woman and bit his lip. “We have some stuff in the back I can get an arrangement for you. If you give me your number I’ll call you when it’s ready.”

Reaching into her jacket once again she pulled out a pen and smiled. Leaning over Eren tried not to look down at her exposed chest as she wrote out her number and name. “I’ll be waiting for your call…”

“E-eren.” He stuttered.  

“I’ll be waiting for your call, Eren.” She said zipping her jacket back up and leaving.

Looking down to folder Eren quickly pulled out his phone and added a new contact. “Annie.” He whispered to himself.

Ignoring his growling stomach Eren scoured every shelf and pot in the shop. “Striking, striking,” He mumbled to himself. “What does she need striking flowers for?” Looking back over to the open folder he went through her work once again. He was about to give up when something caught his eye. A tab at the top of the folder. “Live work,” Eren said with a raised eyebrow.

He pulled open the folder and found a series of photos. Picking up the first photo Eren’s eyes widened. It was a woman, it didn’t show their face but their skin was incredibly fair, Eren, however, was focused on the vines coiled up the subject’s arm, weaving around each other and coming to a stop at her shoulder. Turing the to the next photo Eren found himself counting a series of flowers that covered the pectorals of the same female model.  

“These are amazing,” Eren gasped. “I guess she needed more inspiration for these. Why didn’t she tell me? It would have made it a lot easier.”

As he looked over the photos a thought occurred to him. Looking over his shoulder a smile spread across his lips as he pulled out his phone.  

“So, did you find what you were looking for?” Hitch asked as she wrapped a towel around her hair.

Annie looked up at her roommate from her desk. “He looked out of his depth.”

Hitch rolled her eyes. “I wonder why? Some bicker girl rolls up to his flower shop with random questions.”

“He said he’d help though.” Annie shrugged.

“So you gave him your number?” Hitch giggled. “He must be hot if you of all people gave him your number.”

Annie did her best to calm her racing heart as she searched through her draws. “Technically, he asked. Hey, have you seen my photo album?”

“Last time I saw it it was with your drawings. Can’t you find it?”

Running her fingers through her hair Annie’s eyes suddenly widened. “Oh no.” She gasped grabbing her helmet.  

Eren put his phone down and pouted. “She gives me her number but doesn’t pick up,” He sighed. “I guess that gives me more time to get these ready.” He said smiling at his work. Since she left Eren had hand-picked the rarest flowers in the shop and had even found various seeds he planned to give her.

He was about to get back to work when he heard an engine thundering down the road. Peering outside Eren saw Annie running towards him in her full biker gear. “I take it you got my call.” Eren chuckled as he scratched the back of his head.

Stopping to catch her breath Annie looked up at Eren. “Did you look in the folder?”

Eren nodded with a wide smile. “Yeah, I found these amazing floral tattoos. Why didn’t you tell me that’s what you needed help with?”

Annie did her best to stifle the blush that quickly rose on her cheeks. “I guess it’s my fault my mixing the folders up,” She said to herself. “It’s just… that’s my project.”

“Oh, you didn’t want anyone to see it until it was done. I won’t tell anyone.” Eren jested.

Pinching the bridge of her nose Annie walked past him and into the shop. “Follow me and close the door behind you.”

Confused Eren followed Annie inside and made sure to close the door. “What’s going on Ann-” As he turned around the rest of his words simply evaporated his cheeks turned a bright red. Annie had unzipped her leather top and thrown in on the counter, she was bringing her shirt and vest over her head when Eren stopped her. “W-what are you doing?”

“It’s not just my project, I am the project.” She said turning around.

Slowly Eren opened his eyes. Annie was standing in front of him with her hands at her side. She was wearing a tight-fitting sports bra that clung to her body allowing him to see what she meant. Eren’s eyes widened at what he saw. “You were the model in the pictures,” He said pointing to the vines that coiled and weaved up her arm. “I’m so sorry,” He said as realisation dawned on him. “I shouldn’t have gone through your things.”

Annie sighed. “Well now that you’ve seen them… what do you think?”

“Y-you’re asking me?”

Once again a light pink blush spread across Annie’s cheeks. “You’re the first person to see them. I took those pictures myself.”

“Well, I think you’re beautiful, they! They’re beautiful! Very… intricate.” Eren stuttered.

“Is this the first time you’ve spoken to a girl?” Annie giggled quietly.

Eren shrugged his shoulders. “First time one has stripped in my shop.”  

Rolling her eyes Annie went to get her clothes from the counter when she saw a large vase next to her jacket. “What are these?” She gasped reaching out to touch the delicate red flowers.

“They’re spider lilies. I found some on the roof garden. Striking, intricate, complex. I thought they’d be perfect for your project. I even found some seeds if you wanted some for yourself.” Eren explained as he came to her side.

Annie inspected the flowers closely, she ran the tips of her fingers across the petals and smiled. “They’re amazing! Although, I’m not very good at growing things. I had somehow managed to dehydrate a cactus in my windowsill once.”

Eren scoffed. “I’ve got a pamphlet somewhere that tells you how to look after them.”

“I was thinking you could teach me. Maybe over a drink.” Annie suggested as she turned to face him.

Now suddenly aware of the distance between them Eren smirked. “I thought you’d be mad.”

Annie shook her head. “Oh, I won’t be mad, once you pay for the drinks.”

Humming deeply Eren stood to his full height. “I guess I have no choice.”

“Good, I’ll pick you up at seven and don’t worry I’ve got a spare helmet,” Annie said as she threw her jacket on.

As she went to leave Eren reached out and grabbed her wrist. “Before you go,” He said with cheeks as red as a tomato. “Where are those lilies going to go… on you?”

Annie smirked and rushed towards him. Standing on the tips of her toes she whispered in his ear. “I’m not sure yet. Maybe you could tell me.”

Eren felt his legs beneath him but before he could even collapse Annie was already out of the door and on her bike. He could only watch as she gave him a sly wink before putting her helmet on and disappearing down the road. Looking down at his phone Eren quickly rushed to the door and flipped the sign around to ‘Closed’ before running upstairs whispering to himself. “I better get ready.”