#she got so much hate and it only made me love her more

[grey-crow-ramblings]

I struggled with this so much my whole life without the vocabulary to express it.

I always felt like my parents simply just didn't love me.

It wasn't that they were cruel to me, or abusive toward me. I was clothed, and fed, and housed in my own large bedroom that I had all to myself. My parents told me they loved me all the time, gave me physical affection, made sure I did lots of after school activities, cared about my grades (probably more than they should have), and so on. My parents bought me lots of things, and sent me to expensive schools and programs.

But I always, even as a kid, just had this weird undercurrent of understanding that my parents simply did not love me. I couldn't exactly explain why, I just knew it. It was a fact of life that I always understood. The grass is green, the sky is blue, and my parents only love the make believe fantasy version of me that we all collectively pretend is real.

I always felt like I was more of a... pet? Or, an accessory?

I was something my mother could brag about to other mothers. "My daughter gets straight As, my daughter got into a prestigious school, my daughter has this prestigious career," and so on and so on.

I knew that my parents put all this effort and money and time into me not out of unconditional parental love, but rather in exchange for a performance--the performance of being the daughter they wanted.

If I did not perform this role, they got confused and upset. "What did we do wrong? Why are you doing this? Why are you upset with us, when we give you so much and spend so much money on you? What do you mean you're sad? How can you be sad after all we've given you? Have we not bought you enough things? Have we not given you enough opportunities?"

Because of this sense of exchange, this sense of being some sort of purchased commodity, I was constantly haunted by this feeling that if I ever let the performance drop, everything could be taken away just as quickly. I felt like I had to act so that I could survive.

As a kid I would tell my parents that one day I'd pay them back for my schooling, and for everything they ever spent on me. They thought it was out of some sort of precocious gratitude, like I understood how much all that money and time was worth and was just so thankful for it.

Really, it was because I thought that if I finally just did everything for myself, they wouldn't have any leverage to make me pretend anymore.

Eventually, I did exactly that and got out from under their thumb.

I don't pretend any more, except for occasionally telling my mother I love her despite it being a lie. Trying to explain to her that the person she loved never existed at all is just... too far over her head for her to understand. My parents still seem to think that me being queer and trans is about them--that it's some sort of lingering teenage rebellion (I'm 31), or alt-left gender brainwashing that I'm succumbing to in order to assert my independence or something. They seem to think that their precious baby daughter is in there somewhere, just waiting to be freed if only they throw enough money at her, if only they wait patiently enough for her to return.

They still come offering gifts and money in exchange for my pretending, but these days, I usually don't accept it. Sometimes I do, and just still don't pretend.

They don't yell. They don't hit. They don't abuse. They don't even cut me off or abandon me. They just keep calling, day after day, waiting for me to go "back" to being a person I never was in the first place.

They will die still waiting.

In one sense, it breaks my heart. It's not their fault, really. They were raised to believe in a Right and a Wrong that doesn't exist. They were raised to never fight the system imposed on them, to just sit back and let it define them. I can see how much it hurts them, for me to be myself. But I will simply never be anyone else.

I used to resent them. I even used to hate them. But now, I mostly just pity them.

The family they made will be broken forever, and they will die still loving the ghosts of children they never had. They will never know what it feels like for their children to really love them back--only a strange, uncanny, money-driven doppelganger of affection that they can't quite tell apart from the real thing.

My friends always tell me that my parents are so nice, they don't understand how our relationship could be so fraught. This is why. So thank you for helping to contextualize this feeling I've had for so very long, and have never been able to quite explain.

Gendered parenting is so weird. As a little kid I was a total daddy's girl, I was told I would always try to sneak the garage, I was always very interested in everything he was doing and would follow him around while he was working, but while my family was never the type to outright say "you can't do that because you're a girl", they simply didn't entertain the idea that I could possibly be interested in cars. Then when my little brother was born, it was just assumed he would become a mechanic like our dad because he was a boy. Even though he, unlike me, didn't like being in the garage much and wasn't all that interested in what dad was doing. Once he got to a certain age, dad started making him help and would drag him away from his actual interests for it, which lead to a lot of arguing and not much actual learning.

Gendered expectations sort of create doubles of children. There's the real child with their actual personality, interests and behaviors, and then there's the Gender Child.

My real brother hated soccer and team sports. The Gender Child that existed only the minds of the adults in his life enjoyed playing soccer because that's what a Boy Child likes.

Growing up, I always felt like adults didn't actually know me as a person and they weren't interested in getting to know me. Because they felt they'd already learned everything there was to know about me when they were told "it's a girl".

When I talk about how I never got gifts I actually liked from my relatives (to this day I still don't like getting gifts that aren't something I picked out myself), it isn't actually about the gifts themselves. I don't even remember them. What I do remember is the feeling of being given gifts that were seemingly not bought with the real me in mind. They were for the Girl Child™️ version of me. The me that adults wanted me to be, not who I actually was.

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

The Dangers of Dream Walking -Oneshot

Word count: 5748

Y/N hated her power.  The ability to dream walk was at times nice, but mostly it was a literal and figurative nightmare.  People dreamt crazy and unhinged things all the time, so it was rare to ever step into a happy dream.  She couldn’t understand why she was born with it, what good it did her or anyone else.  It wasn’t like she could manipulate the dreams.  She could only watch on as a casual observer.  Until she met the Avengers.

She had been knocked out by a piece of debris during another fight the Avengers were having, and had dream-walked right into a memory of Wanda Maximoff, who was temporarily knocked out as well.  But this time, Wanda turned and looked right at her in the dream and talked to her.

“You can see me?” Y/N asked incredulously.

“Yes,” Wanda said simply as her memory played out behind her.  “How are you here?”

“I…I dream-walk,” Y/N explained, walking toward her.  “I think I got knocked out and now…”  The image of a young Wanda and what Y/N figured was her brother playing in a field of wildflowers distracted her.  “I’m sorry,” she said, sensing the sadness in Wanda’s eyes.  “I don’t have control over it.”

Wanda tilted her head and analyzed her.  “But you can,” she replied.  “I can see it in your mind.  I’ll come find you, dream-walker.”  Then she and the memory disappeared, and Y/N hopped into a new dream.  A week later she was surprised to open her door to Wanda Maximoff in the flesh.  “I told you I’d find you,” she said cheekily.

From that day on she had been taken in by the Avengers.  She wasn’t an official team member, but had been working with Wanda on honing her power and using it to be able to tap into specific people’s dreams, then using the connection of being in their mind due to the dream and then going through their memories and thoughts.  She even learned how to start manipulating the dreams, changing the circumstances or interacting where she could to make it so nightmares turned into softer dreams.  It proved useful when she was able to get into an operative’s mind and find the coordinates and plans for the next attack.  And it proved even more useful once the Avengers fell apart, the Blip happened, and then Wanda disappeared.  After everyone came back she was lost for a while until Bucky Barnes asked for her help.

“We’ve got a new guy that has…well, some mental issues,” he explained.  “And I think your abilities might be able to help him work through those issues and make it so he can access his powers without the dark side taking over so easily.”

“I don’t know how much help I’ll be, but I can try,” she said.

That’s when she met Bob and started working with him extensively, and was recruited back into the New Avengers.  They became like family to her, and she loved being able to be a part of something bigger again.  She, Yelena and Ava would have girls nights.  Alexei would compliment her abilities heavily and praise her for her efforts with Bob.  Bob was awkward and quiet, but seemed to enjoy their quiet moments of reading together and then forming their own two-person book club.  Walker was still an asshole, but she was able to get him to simmer down most days.  Then there was Bucky.  Sweet but serious, sarcastic but kind, dangerously strong but soft, and devastatingly handsome Bucky.  

Y/N pushed her feelings for him down deep, not wanting them to affect her working relationship and new friendship she had made with him.  But it was getting harder the more he tended to seek her out after rough missions or bad mental days and she would help him drift off into a dreamless slumber, or as he sat next to her during team movie nights, or as the little friendly touches started between them that eventually morphed into long hugs and him kissing the side of her head before they left for another mission.  He was usually quiet, not the one to start a conversation and preferring to be a casual observer, but when they were alone he talked and asked questions.  

At night she usually took heavy sleep aids to help her completely knock out so she wouldn’t accidentally walk into the team’s dreams.  Something about the pills helped her mind go fuzzy enough to have her own dreamless sleep and not unwittingly walk into other’s minds as she slept.  Then one night a year into living at the Watchtower with them she had fallen asleep after a long day working with Bob.  The mental exhaustion had worn her out, and she hadn’t taken the sleep aids.  That was the first time she had seen it.

Her eyes opened in what looked like…Bucky’s room?  She looked around in confusion, then heard heavy breathing.  He wasn’t in his bed.  The edges of her vision looked blurry, and she realized she was dream-walking.  Shit, she thought.  I’m in his dream...dammit.  She didn’t mean to, and willed herself to try and wake up, but then the breathing got louder and turned into grunts.  Her curiosity got the better of her, and if it was a nightmare maybe she could at least help him ease out of it.  She followed the sounds to his bathroom where the door was slightly opened.  She peeked inside, then silently gasped, her mouth dropping open dramatically.

It was partially a memory from a few weeks back when he’d come home from a mission with a nasty wound along his chest and she had tried to help him clean it up since he refused to go to the med bay because, “I’m a super soldier, doll, I’ll heal soon.”  Bucky was sitting on the lid of the toilet like he had been weeks ago, shirtless with a bandage on his chest that she had placed there after cleaning it, but in this dream he was fully naked and she was now on her knees between his legs sucking him off.  Y/N’s eyes widened in comical shock as she watched herself suck Bucky’s cock lewdly, letting out little mewls, moans and gags as she tried to take all of him, her right hand fisting what she couldn’t and stroking him at the same speed as her head bobbed up and down on him.

“That’s it, doll, fuck,” Bucky groaned, his metal hand holding back her hair and his right hand cradling her jaw.  “You’re so good at this, you know that?  Such a good girl.”

Dream Y/N made an affirming sound as she pulled up off of him for a moment to breathe then smiled up at him.  “Your good girl,” she said seductively before lapping at the head of his cock, her spit dribbling down his shaft.

“Damn right,” he huffed.  “My good girl.”

Y/N had walked into wet dreams before, always quickly walking out of them with her hands over her eyes or ears, but this time she stayed and watched.  It was strange to see herself doing something so vulgar, so dirty, and enjoying it.  But all she could really focus on was Bucky’s face.  The way the ever-present crease between his brows was now from a look of lust and desire, his mouth agape as he breathed, every once in a while biting his bottom lip as his head fell back, then looking back down at dream-her with the most lovesick expression she’d ever seen.  The way his lips said the dirtiest words and praises to her, how gently he cradled her head and she could see him struggling not to thrust into her mouth.  

His breathing got faster, and the sexiest whimper bubbled up from his throat as he tensed.  “I’m gonna cum!” he whispered, then a moment later he held her head down and shuddered as he let out a long, loud moan that echoed in the bathroom, his hips rutting into dream-her’s mouth.  Dream-Y/N whimpered as well, swallowing as much as she could.  Bucky sat there for a moment before pulling her up and off his cock, wiping at her lips with his flesh thumb and smiling at her.  “Let me see, Y/N.”  Dream-Y/N obediently opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue to show him she swallowed it all.  “Atta girl,” he smirked, then kissed her deeply.

Y/N felt the pull in her mind and watched the vision go hazy, then she woke up, gasping for air as she sat up straight in bed.  She was in her room again, looking around frantically as she pieced together what she had seen.  There was a deep ache and wetness between her legs that made her groan in discomfort and she fell back on her bed in a huff.  “Fuck me,” she breathed exasperatedly.

***

She knew she shouldn’t pry, that she should take the sleep aids and forget she ever saw it.  But she didn’t.  She let herself fall asleep naturally from then on and purposefully sought out Bucky’s dreams.  He didn’t dream about her every night, but more often than not he did and she was the star of his fantasies.  His wet dreams were quite…colorful.  The positions he put Dream-Y/N into were intense, and the way he spoke to her was dirty but also sweet and endearing.  Every time she would leave his dream she’d have to cum afterwards, pathetically muffling her cries as she pleasured herself to the memory of his dreams night after night.  

During the day when they interacted nothing changed, but she felt herself looking at him more often, which was quickly picked up on by Yelena and Walker.  They teased her about it, and she tried to deny it but ultimately would just roll her eyes and walk away.  “I mean, he’s nice looking,” Yelena said as she nudged Y/N’s shoulder.  “Why don’t you go for it?”

“Go for who?” Bob asked.

Y/N jumped in her seat and wheeled around to face him.  “Jesus, Bob!  How do you just appear out of nowhere?”

“I don’t,” he chuckled.  “But seriously, who are you going for?”

“Bucky,” Yelena said.

Y/N turned to her and smacked her arm, making Yelena yelp as Bob nodded.  “Oh, yeah, you should,” he said with a small smile.  “He stares at you, too.”

She turned back around and smacked his arm, making him yelp and step away.  “Both of you stop it,” Y/N hissed.  

“Why are we smacking people?” Bucky’s voice chimed from the other side of the common room.

They all whirled around to look at him in surprise.  “‘Cause they deserved it,” Y/N said quickly, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, adding a little shrug at the end of the sentence.

His eyes narrowed as he looked at each of them then huffed a laugh and shook his head.  “I’m sure,” he smiled.  “Ready for your lesson, doll?”

“Yep!  I’m coming!” Y/N said in a more chipper tone, then turned to Yelena and Bob once Bucky was out of sight.  She made a “zip it” motion over her mouth to them, and they both snickered as she jogged away to catch up with Bucky.  He led her to one of the many training rooms, holding the door open for her as she thanked him and stepped in to find a table set up with guns lined up on it.

“Alright, first, I’ll teach you how to put one together,” Bucky said, his tone turning professional.  “Then we’ll practice shooting.  Sound good?”

“Okay.  Remind me why I need to know how to shoot a gun?” Y/N asked teasingly as she stared at the array of guns on the table.

“It’s a good skill to have,” Bucky said, coming up behind her and grabbing one of the assembled guns.  He flicked the safety off then with his other hand handed her some ear plugs.  She quickly took them and put them in her ears, then watched as he raised the gun and took merely a second to aim and shoot at a target on the opposite side of the room.  It hit the bullseye perfectly, the gunshot still ringing in her ears and making her wince.  He then met her gaze and shot at the other four targets without looking.  Her eyes widened as she held his stare, then looked at the targets.  Each of them were perfectly shot through the bullseye.

“That was hot,” Y/N said with raised eyebrows and a blush on her cheeks.

Bucky laughed, a blush painting his cheeks as well as he put the safety back on and set the gun back on the table.  For the next hour he taught her how to put one of the simpler guns together, how to load it, unload it, clean it, and then it was time to practice shooting.  Y/N wasn’t good at it.  The feeling of the gun in her hands felt unnatural, and the kickback made her flinch each time.  She still hit the targets within the outline of the body drawn on them, but not in any fatal areas.

“You gotta get behind it,” Bucky said with a slight laugh in his voice after watching her tense up after the last shot.  “The recoil won’t be as rough if you do.”  She took a deep breath and aimed, angling her body a little differently.  It helped as she shot, the recoil not making her feel so off balance.  “Good.  Again,” he said with a smile.  After a few more rounds he stepped behind her.  “Left foot forward,” he instructed, slightly kicking her shoe to make her step forward.  “Right foot back.  Square shoulders,” his hands directed her shoulders to face the target better.  “Lean forward to anchor yourself.  Elbows slightly out to absorb recoil,” his hands slid down her arms to put them in proper position.  “Engage your pec muscles to squeeze your hands together, wrists locked.”  His hands slipped back and down to her mid-back as a secondary anchor, barely touching her.  Then he leaned in toward her ear.  “Now aim.”  His voice dropped, and she had to suppress a shiver as she aimed carefully.  “Take a deep breath,” he said quietly, his breath tickling her ear.  She inhaled deeply.  “Let it out, and shoot.”

Y/N slowly let out the breath and shot.  The recoil wasn’t nearly as bad that time, and it hit right in the middle of the forehead of the target.  She let out a surprised huff of a laugh, and felt Bucky’s hands squeeze her sides.  “Good girl,” he said proudly.

She froze.  He said it.  He fucking said it.  In real life.  To her.  She tried to school her expression as she set the gun down and he stepped away on shaky legs.  “Um…thanks,” she said, clearing her throat.  “I, uh…excuse me.”

“What?  Where are you going?” Bucky asked as she stepped around him.  “We’re not done yet.”

“I just need a minute,” she said, walking fast out of the training room and towards the nearest bathroom.  The second the stall door was closed she leaned against the wall and stuck her hand down in her pants.  Once her fingers made contact with her clit she moaned, shutting her eyes tight as her mouth hung open.  She was already so wet just from him touching her during the lesson and calling her a good girl that she immediately pumped two fingers inside her sopping pussy, causing a full body shiver to roll through her.  Did she Pavlov’s Dog herself into nearly cumming every time he called her that from watching his wet dreams?  Just as her thumb was flicking at her clit and getting her close she heard the bathroom door open.

“Doll?” Bucky’s voice called out.  She silently cursed, her hand stilling in her pants as her eyes snapped open.  “What happened, huh?  Did that freak you out?  I’m sorry, sometimes that first lesson can be a little intense, actually shooting the target like that.”

“I’m fine, Buck,” Y/N said hastily.  “I’ll be there in just a minute.”

She heard him sigh and then walk toward the stall she was in.  “It’s okay, Y/N, just talk to me,” he said softly.

“I’m fine.  Seriously.”  Her wobbly voice did not help her case.  Her fingers twitched inside her and she lightly gasped, trying to be quiet.  

“Y/N, what are you…”  He stopped, then she heard the almost imperceptible sound of a deep sniff.  Goddammit, she thought.  Damn that super soldier serum.  There was a long pause, then he shuffled closer to the stall door.  “Are you…touching yourself?”

Y/N wanted the earth to swallow her whole.  This was so embarrassing.  Of course he knew.  How would she explain this?  There was no good explanation.  She’d have to tell him about the dream-walking, watching him fuck her crazy in his wet dreams for the past couple of months.  She ripped her hand out of her pants and flushed the toilet with her free hand, tucking the wet one behind her back as she opened the stall door.  Bucky stood ramrod straight, his eyes looking dark and analytical as he stared down at her.  “That’s crazy,” she said, skirting around him as best as she could.

As she tried to walk away he suddenly grabbed her and pushed her toward the tiled wall.  She squeaked in shock as he caged her against it with his arms, his left knee moving between her legs and invading her space.  His metal hand reached around and gripped her wrist she was hiding and pulled it back around carefully and up to his face.  His bright blue eyes looked sharper than usual as he looked her over, his breathing heavy, and when her fingers were close to his face he broke eye contact and stared at her wet fingers, still soaked with her arousal.  His eyelids fluttered as he tilted his head and his nostrils flared as he sniffed her fingers.  He then met her gaze again and brought her fingers to his mouth, opening wide and licking at them.

Surely this was how she would die.  Her heart thundered in her ears, she blinked rapidly and her mouth fell open as she watched him lick then suck her fingers into his mouth.  He closed his eyes as he tasted her, and the hum he let out vibrated around her fingers.  She sighed, her head falling back against the wall.  Her knees shook, threatening to give out, and his flesh hand wrapped around her back to hold her flush against his body and keep her upright.  He finally pulled her fingers out of his mouth and opened his eyes, licking his lips as he stared at her.  “You taste delicious, doll,” he whispered.  “Why were you touching yourself?”

She swallowed thickly and dropped her gaze to his chest.  “I…I needed to,” she said weakly.

“Why?” he asked firmly, his metal hand letting go of her wrist and then pulling her chin up to make her look at him.

Y/N couldn’t handle the intense look in his eyes and the shame so she shut her eyes.  “I’ve been dream-walking into your wet dreams for the past few months,” she confessed quickly.  “I didn’t mean to, I just forgot my sleeping pills one night and suddenly ended up in your dream and I saw myself giving you head.  I’m sorry.”  She felt overwhelmed and inhaled shakily, trying not to cry.  “I’m so sorry.”

He didn’t say anything at first, then she felt him move and kiss the side of her mouth.  Her eyes snapped open as he pulled away and he smirked at the look on her face.  “What else did you see me doing to you?” he asked.

Y/N huffed.  “Y-you…you fucked me in the shower,” she whispered.  “And on your bed.  Then during a mission.  Basically everywhere,” she stifled a laugh at the memory of all the places and ways he’d dreamed of fucking her.  

“What was your favorite?” he asked, his metal hand sliding down to her throat and wrapping his fingers around it.  He didn’t squeeze, just held her there as he stared at her.  

“I…all of them,” she breathed.  “I loved all of them.”

His smirk widened into a wicked smile.  “Especially when I called you a good girl?”

Her eyes rolled back in her head unwittingly and she whined in his face.  “Yyyeeesss,” she grunted through gritted teeth.

Bucky moaned and kissed her.  Y/N gasped through her nose, kissing him back and trying to keep up with how passionately he was kissing her.  His tongue slipped into her mouth, and she could taste the remnants of her arousal as she entangled her tongue with his.  His flesh hand moved down her hip, over her ass cheek, then up to her breasts, kneading them and leaving a tingling sensation in his wake.  His metal hand slightly squeezed her throat, pulling another whine from deep in her chest.

“Fuck, doll,” he groaned against her lips.  “So responsive.  Just like in my dreams.”  He pulled away and rested his forehead against hers as they both breathed heavily.  “Lesson’s over.  Let’s go upstairs and you can choose which dream we recreate first.”

She nodded frantically.  He let her go and grabbed her hand, pulling her out of the bathroom and walking with purpose toward the elevator.  The entire ride up he didn’t say anything or move, watching the floor numbers rise as he held her hand firmly.  When the elevator dinged he nearly ripped her from the elevator and dragged her to his room, shutting and locking the door behind her and then pushing her against the door.  He kissed her again, his hands roaming over her eagerly.  Y/N melted against him, letting him move her and kiss her any which way he wanted to.

“How do you wanna start, Y/N?” he asked as he licked at her neck.  “You wanna suck me off like that first time you saw me?  Or do you wanna fuck me?  I’ll do whatever you want.”

Her hands were shaking as she gripped his shoulders, trying to ground herself so she wouldn’t collapse.  “Do you…do you actually want to do this?” she stuttered, her self-doubt kicking in.  “I u-understand if you’re…mad or–”

“Stop that,” Bucky said, gripping her cheeks and making her look at him again.  “What you saw in my dreams is exactly what I want.  You.  I want you.  I’ve been falling for you from the moment we met, doll.  I want your body,” he kissed her lips.  “I want your mind.”  He kissed her forehead.  “I want your heart all to myself.”  He dipped down and kissed the spot over her heart, making her almost sob.  “I want you to be mine, and I want to be yours.”  The look on his face and the hope in his eyes was almost too much to bear as he gazed at her.

“I want that,” Y/N nodded.  “I want all of that.  I’m yours, and I want you to be mine.”

“Already am,” he shook his head with a knowing smile.  “I’m yours.”  He kissed her again, but this time it was softer, sweeter, and the tenderness made her whimper against his mouth.  Her hands moved up to hold him by the back of the neck and keep him close to her, and he used the leverage of her hands there to lift her and make her wrap her legs around his hips.  Bucky turned them towards his bed and laid her on it, continuing his kisses as he stayed there with her for a moment.

When he moved his kisses to her cheek and down to her neck she finally found her voice.  “I want…I need you to make me cum with your fingers,” she said.  “I need to cum so bad, Buck.  Please…please honey…”

“Mmh, I like that,” Bucky smirked against her neck.  He quickly stripped her of her clothes, leaving her naked and splayed out on the bed.  His eyes hungrily gazed at her as he stripped himself, and she ogled him openly as his flesh hand moved closer to her pussy.

“No, not that one,” Y/N said.

Bucky looked like he short circuited for a moment, his eyes widening as he stared at her in shock.  Then his eyes narrowed and he brought his metal hand forward, hovering it over her pussy.  “You want my metal fingers?” he asked, sounding perplexed and in awe.  She nodded, smiling softly at him.  He let out a long sigh, like he was relaxing after a long day, then brought his metal hand up to her face.  “Open up,” he instructed.  Y/N opened her mouth and he dipped his middle three fingers into her mouth.  She licked and sucked them, loving the way the metal felt against her tongue and giggling at the clink sound they made against her teeth.  When he felt like they were lubed enough he pulled them out of her mouth and brought his hand back down between her legs.  “Good girl,” he praised her with a knowing smirk.  

She visibly shivered at the praise, and he sunk two fingers into her without warning.  Y/N gasped, her back arching at the sudden but pleasant intrusion that her body had been yearning for.  He pumped his fingers slowly, letting her get adjusted to them and watching her carefully, making sure she wasn’t in any pain or discomfort.  His eyes couldn’t seem to decide whether to stay on her face or her pussy, mesmerized by the slick sounds coming from between her legs and the moans and whimpers falling from her lips.

She was so close already, and whimpered at the need and desperation that made her hips tremble in his hand.  The metal felt amazing inside her, somehow staying cool against the immense heat radiating from her pussy.  Bucky could tell she was struggling to finish and leaned over her a little bit, bringing his face close to her pussy.  He suddenly spit on her clit, and she flinched at the added warmth as well as the sound, her breathing getting even heavier at how hot that was.  His metal thumb started circling around her clit, rubbing in his spit as his fingers continued to fuck her.  He watched her squirm for a moment before getting close again and then licking at her clit.  Her hips bucked into his face, but that only seemed to drive him on as his flesh hand held her left thigh tightly to hold her down, his metal fingers moving faster inside her as the tip of his tongue flicked her clit.

“Holy fuck, doll,” he mumbled against her.  “So good…let go and cum, Y/N.  Be my good girl and cum.”

The build-up of her orgasm was finally about to tip over the edge.  She reached down and gripped Bucky’s hair in her fingers, tugging at it as her hips grinded against his mouth.  He moaned, sucking at her clit hard, then teasingly nibbled at his with his teeth.  She came with a shriek, her legs clamping against his head as she bucked against his face again and again.  Bucky kept moaning into her, his mouth and fingers refusing to stop and letting her ride out the orgasm as long as she wanted.  

Once she stopped shaking he gave her one last broad lick and eased his fingers out of her, then put them in his mouth and licked them clean.  She watched him enjoy her cum, the arousal rebuilding quickly.  “Honey,” she breathed.  His eyes flicked up to her face as he pulled his pointer finger out with a pop.  “That was so good…thank you,” she huffed.

Bucky smiled and wiped his hand on the comforter before climbing over her and slotting his hips between her legs.  His cock was heavy and hard laying on her pussy and lower stomach.  Her hips squirmed again at the feeling, and he smirked watching her writhe uncomfortably, her lustful frown as she looked down at him making him beam.  “So desperate for my cock, doll?” he teased, leaning down to kiss, lick and suck at her tits insistently.  

“Yes,” she said unabashedly, her fingers back in his hair and scratching down his scalp.  

“Is this how you want it?” he asked, dragging his lips across the skin of her chest.  “The dream where I fucked you hard and fast on my bed, with you begging me to fill you, huh?”

“Oh my…GOD YES!” she grunted.  

He chuckled against her sternum before moving back up and kissing her.  “On your stomach, doll,” he instructed.  Y/N immediately rolled over, planting her knees on the bed and raising her ass in the air with her face down in the bed.  She heard him huff another laugh and then position himself behind her, rubbing his cock through her soaked lower lips.  His flesh hand slapped her ass cheeks, and she whimpered again at the sting that he rubbed out gently.  “Such a good, obedient girl,” he said lowly, teasing her pussy with the tip of his cock over and over again.  “Go on.  Beg.”

She turned her head to try and look at him as best as she could, her eyes pleading with him as she shook her ass back against his hips.  “Bucky, honey, please…please?  I need you to fill me.  I want your fat cock to fuck me and fill me up, please.  Please please please, honey?  I’ll be so good.  Your good girl.”

His eyes rolled back at that and his mouth dropped open.  “Damn right you are,” he groaned, then thrust forward and filled her completely.  Y/N yelped at the sudden stretch and fullness, her face smooshing back into the bed as she dropped her head down and her own eyes rolled back.  He was perfect.  She had never been so full in her life, and she knew instantly that she was ruined for any other man.  Bucky let her adjust for a minute, a deep hum vibrating in his chest that she could surprisingly feel through her pussy, then he rolled his hips.  That pulled a whine from her, and from then on it was like a bargain between them.  A roll of the hips for a moan.  A hard snap for a whimper.  Widening her legs for a grunt and hands squeezing her ass cheeks.  They were playing with each other, learning what the other wanted and responded to the most.  Y/N had never felt so turned on or completely loved and cared for, and it made her sniffle as she started to cry.

“You crying, doll?” Bucky asked, laying his front over her back and kissing between her shoulder blades.  “Does it feel that good?”

“Yes, honey,” she moaned, her fingers grasping the comforter in a death grip.  “Never been so…mmh, full before,” she said.

“Really?  Aw, buttering me up, huh?” he asked, the teasing tone coming back full force, his lips tracing along her back and his teeth nipping at her randomly, making her tense up.  The way his beard was leaving goosebumps along her sensitive skin was tantalizing.  “Gonna keep praising me ‘til I cum deep inside this pretty, sloppy pussy?  God, you’re better than my dreams, Y/N.”

Y/N shivered at all the different sensations coming together to make her start tipping over the edge of another orgasm.  Her face thrashed against the bed as the pace of his thrusts picked up, snapping into her hips so hard that the slapping of skin echoed in his room.  His fingers gripped her hips hard, and she knew she’d be bruised and sensitive the next day, but that somehow made it even hotter.  “Oh fuck…fuck, fuck, Bucky I…ungh,” she groaned as her pussy pulsed around him.  “Fuck me full, honey!  Please!”

“Yeah,” he huffed, the pace getting even faster.  He leaned over and adjusted his feet on the bed, making it so he was mounting her.  He tucked his face into the side of her neck, his heaving breaths heating her ear.  “Take it, doll.  Take all of me like the good girl you are.  And all mine.”  Bucky bit her shoulder, not hard but enough to make her shudder.  “Mine,” he growled around the muscle in his mouth.

Y/N came careening over the edge, cumming so hard around his cock that she screamed and shook violently beneath him.  Her pussy pulsed in waves as the orgasm rolled through her body and to each extremity, her vision going white as her voice was muffled into the mattress.  Bucky clenched behind her, his hips pistoning into her a few times more until he whimpered in her ear and then shoved himself as far in as she could and stiffened.  Another deep hum vibrated through him as he came, and she could feel the warmth increase inside her as he filled her up just the way she wanted.  

It took her a few minutes to come back to herself, but when she did she could still feel him rutting into her from behind, his lips still at her shoulder but kissing and licking at the bite mark he left, and his hands generously massaging over her back, sides and hips.  He gripped his cock between them and squeezed, making sure to get every last drop of cum was emptied into her still undulating pussy walls, her hips twitching periodically.

“Good girl.  You’re such a good girl,” he said, his voice sounding tired.  “Did so good for me, doll.  That was amazing.  Thank you.  Thank you for walking into my dreams.  My pretty dream girl.  Fucking hell…”

She giggled as he turned to his side and pulled her with him, keeping his cock tucked inside her as best as possible as he settled them more comfortably.  “My dream man came to life,” she teased, reaching back and pinching his hip.

Bucky laughed and grabbed her hand, pulling it up to his mouth and kissing her fingers.  “Your dream man.  My good girl.”

She nodded and leaned her head back into his chest, and he kissed her top of her head near her hairline.  “Your good girl.”

@nerdreader

[81pastrys]

Qatar Heat Wave

Summary— When she gets too hot at Qatar the boys band together to make sure she’s okay

Warnings— overheated reader ; caring grid boys ; mention of Luke but not explicit

A/N— I love the grid boys 🫶🏻

Multiple driver fic list

Dividers @bernardsbendystraws @dollywons

Request— hi love ur work so much. Could I request a new rookie female driver on the grid and shes debuting on one of the most hottest circuits ever and shes really struggling and the grid helps her and when they do the weigh in shes lost like too much weight and shes feeling like shit and the grids helping her

The FIA has this amazing sense of stupidity that they let their drivers do a race during a fucking heat wave of all things. Not to even mention that Qatar was hot as is already.

She never did well in heat, but she was a damn good driver. The podium was actually a relief. Flooding through the cold sparkling water sprayed over their sweaty race suits. Her trainer promised a very icy cold bath, knowing her body elements never regulates in weather like this.

Charles and Carlos nearly had to catch her at weigh-in. They noticed her ticket had a warning symbol and that she was underweight as fuck. She kept stumbling and eventually they made eye contact and texted the group to watch over her.

Oscar then noticed her dazed look from the cooldown and realized she was in fact not cooling down. After the podium, Oscar grabbed her arm for stability, not for himself but he could see her swaying after the pictures.

“Okay, sit.” Oscar said once they got down the stairs from the podium. This caught Charles’ attention. He whipped around and saw her panting like she ran a marathon.

“Merde, is she okay?” Charles asked. She herself shook her head no and Oscar could sense more bad things ahead, asking for a bucket. Charles asked for them to grab her teammate, Kimi. Not that the teenager could do much but he knew her best at this point.

Oscar gave her the bucket and that apparently upset her stomach enough to use it. Kimi and Toto ended up by them almost instantly. Toto got her to stand and they unzipped her suit. She looked weak. They brought her back to Mercedes and her trainer took over.

The ice bath was set up but she couldn’t just shock her body, she had to cool down naturally a bit first. “No, ice, please.” She mumbled when he told her that. “Hot.”

“I know but if we throw you in ice when you’re this hot you might injure yourself.” He explained. They got her suit off and rolled the sleeves of the fireproof up. Kimi kept shoving water to her and Valterri was nearby in case the teen himself got nauseous or too hot.

“The group chat is going crazy over you.” Kimi said worried. She waved him off and he sighed. “Seriously they want to know if you’re okay!” He insisted.

“Do I look fine? Fuck, tell them to give me a minute.” She snapped. Unusual for her to snap at Kimi but she did not feel good. Her trainer finally gave her the go ahead for the ice bath and she sunk in, only a sports bra and spandex shorts on.

Kimi handed her the phone and it was a group call of all the drivers. She glared at Kimi and he held his arms up in innocence. “They wouldn’t stop.” He said.

“How’s our girl doing?” Ollie asked teasingly.

“Oscar told me you were sick after the podium how are you feeling?” Lando asked, concern lacing his voice.

“Dios Mio, don’t scare us like that.” Carlos chimed.

“Oui, don’t do that!” Charles added. She rolled her eyes. “Cherie, we care about you.”

“I’m fine now, I’m in an ice bath.” They all giggled and laughed over the phone.

“You know it’s bad then, she hates ice baths.” Alex laughed. “Are you feeling any better?”

“I don’t know maybe I’ll pass out just to get more attention.” She joked and Kimi laughed, seeing her teasing smile.

“She’s joking.” Kimi said quickly when they went silent. “Now can she enjoy her ice bath in peace?” The boys agreed and hung up the phone.

They didn’t leave her alone for long, once she was cleared and deemed fit to return to her hotel, it was crowded with flowers and get well soon gifts.

She groaned and sent a middle finger to the group chat with all the gifts behind it and a simple: ‘I’m not a baby, quit treating me like one assholes’

Such sweet boys

@il0vereadingstuff @itznotsophia @angelluv16 @kallanfiona @pandabiiissh

[adieutristana]

was i just a fool? jinx x fem!reader

i want to do more songfics and i’ve been on a fleetwood mac kick lately so…! here’s some angst

inspired by ‘silver springs’ by fleetwood mac

summary; after her attack on the council, jinx decides it’s best to break up. it’s been months, and she can’t move on.

characters included; jinx

tags/warnings; angst, hurt no comfort, break-up/post break-up, takes place beginning of s2, mentions of poor mental health, mentions of alcohol but no drinking, r works at the last drop, dual pov (kinda), jinx spiraling

men dni.

jinx feels like her heart might just leap out of her chest, right through her throat.

she's stood in front of your apartment, twiddling your thumbs and trembling. the previous week had been nothing short of chaotic- with her kidnapping her sister and sister's girlfriend, accidentally killing silco, and blowing up piltover's councilroom.

you knew, of course you did. you were the first person jinx ran to afterward, because she trusted you, and you've been the one constant in her life. with shaking limbs and hot tears running down her face, she'd collapsed onto your lap in a fit of shaky sobs.

"i'm sorry- i, oh gods, i'm so sorry..."

"shh, shh," you'd whispered, rubbing soothing circles into your girlfriend's lower back. were you confused, conflicted? of course. jinx had just done an objectively terrible thing, killed someone- probably multiple someones in just one night, but part of you could understand why she did it.

she was overwhelmed. she felt hurt, betrayed. discovering that your sister is dating an enforcer after her history with enforcers, being as volatile as jinx is and feeling rejected by vi over and over again. being actively manipulated by silco. if you were in her situation, you might've done the same.

"you're not mad at me, are you?'' she'd sniffled, looking at you through tears. to which you only placed a kiss on her damp forehead. "please don't be mad at me. please. not you."

"i'm a little confused, but no, i'm not mad."

every word and touch from you made jinx positively melt, and she never knew what she'd done to deserve this kind of kindness. you could see her lash out, hallucinate, try to hurt herself, hurt others- do some of the most monstrous acts possible, but you still found it in yourself to be gentle with her, and love her. she's never seen that in the cards for herself.

but it's that goodness you have in you that kills jinx. because she's convinced herself after that attack that somehow, she's going to make your life worse. she might hurt you. she might accidentally put you in danger. and even if none of that happens, you just deserve someone better than her. someone who has a stable head on their shoulders, and can provide you comfort. that same sweet and gentle love that you give her, despite her best efforts to be what you need.

she can hear her heartbeat in her ears, but slowly raises a fist to knock at your door. knock, knock, knock- and then silence. it's only fifteen seconds maximum before the door swings open, but it might as well be forever.

"oh, hey, babe," you hum, a light smile tugging at the corners of your lips. you clearly weren't expecting her, but she figured this wasn't the kind of visit she'd want you to plan for. "i, uh.. didn't know you were coming. do you wanna come in? i could get you water, or i've got some juice-"

"no, thanks," she interjects, her voice trembling. this doesn't go unnoticed by you, though- and your brows are immediately furrowed.

"hey... what's going on?"

so much, she wants to say. i feel like shit, i don't know what my purpose is, i've already got several warrants out for my arrest, and i just killed the only father figure i have left. i don't know what to do with myself, i'm barely sleeping, i'm barely eating.

"i think we should break up," is what comes out instead.

the color drains from your face almost immediately, and oh, does jinx hate the sight. looking at you right now might be one of the hardest things she's ever done, but..

"huh?" your voice is small, shaky. this is the last thing you'd expected, clearly. things were going so well, you reassured her after everything, what's the problem?

"i think we should... break up," she repeats. "i'm not good for you. you deserve somebody who is."

your first instinct is to reach out in an attempt to pull jinx into your arms, but she flinches away and shakes her head. her throat bobs as she swallows nervously, and takes a step back.

"jinx.. of course you're good for me," you whisper, almost taking on a pleading tone. "you make me so happy. you're loving, you're smart, you're funny, i feel like i can forget everything else when we're together. you're perfect for me."

"but i'm not," and her voice is getting a bit more aggressive, the same way you've seen her get when people lie to her, and you can't help but wonder if she thinks you're lying to her. even though you never would. "i'm not a good person. i've done horrible things. killed people, destroyed people's lives. you know that, and you're- you're still here, for some damn reason."

"i'm here because i love you," you whisper, voice breaking midway through. your eyes are filling with tears, the thought of your girlfriend leaving is unbearable. "i love you. you've only ever been good to me, and i know you've done things, but i see you, jinx. not for what you show others, but for who you are."

jinx just swallows back bitter tears, and steps back. once, then twice.

"i'm sorry," she whispers, her voice trembling. "i love you too. i'm doing this because i love you."

another moment, and she's gone.

you're not sure what to do in that instance- scream? cry? bolt down the apartment complex's hallways in hopes to find her and beg her to stay? but you don't do any of that, you only stand in the same spot, your gaze fixed on where your girlfriend- no, your ex, stood just a minute ago.

✧.*

jinx hasn't left her hideout in days.

she wants to, she knows that she should, logically. fresh air would serve her good, even if what zaun has barely qualifies as 'fresh.' she could go outside, blow song things up, get some spray paint and cause mayhem in piltover. anything to get her mind off of things, but she can't.

all that she's able to do is lay in her cot and stare, her only company her own thoughts. she hasn't cried once since she left, though maybe she wishes she could. it'd be better than constant deafening silence and not being able to move from one spot. the image of your face when she uttered those words- 'i think we should break up,' haunts her like no other.

she's dealt with a lot in this life. death, war, destruction. but the expression she saw that day, like she had ripped out your heart and stomped on it, breaks her. she made you feel like that. she did that to you.

so she'll try not to love you, even though it kills her inside. she'll try to put you out of her memory and pretend nothing happened, or that you're in the distant past at best.

she's bullshitting herself, and she knows it. but there's no better way to cope. and for the first time since that day, she feels tears welling in her eyes, hot and wet and- oh gods, they won't stop. she's trembling all of a sudden, her breath coming to her in ragged gasps.

it feels as though the world is closing in on her, a weight on jinx's chest that's absolutely crushing. you're gone. it hits her all at once, like she hasn't spent the past few days without you, but maybe part of her was hoping you'd come knocking.

but you didn't.

you're gone, and it's all her doing. you, the one who loved her fearlessly and desperately. stupid, failure, fuck-up, she tells herself.

✧.*

all you've done is cry. you've cried and cried until you thought you might drown yourself in it, having to change your pillowcase at least once each evening. after everything you'd given jinx, why? you were the happiest version of yourself when you were her girlfriend.

her love was always unconventional, sure. but it was unabashed and fierce. the way that she loved you was all-consuming, like you could drown in it. the harder you fell for her at the beginning, the more it felt like the air was being sucked from your lungs- but you never wanted to rise above water. not for a second.

and now you've cried until you can't anymore. the most difficult part of all this might've been having to delete the countless photos of you both in your camera roll. ones where she's pressing her lips to your cheek, smiling with her arms wrapped around your waist, on your back after she insisted you carry her because 'it'll be fun.' the worst are the live photos, which you can't bear to replay.

but still, you have a life to lead. you have to pay rent somehow, so you drag your heels to work every day, mindlessly greeting customers. bussing tables, switching roles, taking orders, making the occasional drink or two. you did actually like this job at some point; decent pay, good coworkers, the only downside was shitty hours and having to deal with drunk customers. now, you're going through the motions. whatever will make ends meet.

clock in, do your tasks, clock out. walk back to your shitty apartment, take a shower, stand under the hot water until you can't bear it, then step out, get dressed, and go to bed. rinse, recycle, repeat.

you're beautiful, that much has always been clear. you're not exactly sought after, but there's the occasional comment- like when you're scrubbing a wine glass, trying not to think about losing the love of your life-

"hey, bartender," a woman calls from the side bar, and you immediately set down the glass, approaching the counter.

"anything i can do for you?" you ask, though less enthusiastic than you normally would. a young woman, probably around your age. she doesn't look too out of it, so this should be a relatively easy interaction.

"uh, yeah," she chuckles, leaning forward on her elbows. "a bottle of bacardi light please, and... your number."

a beat of silence- the woman is objectively pretty, she seems forward enough. she isn't drunk out of her mind like a lot of other customers on a friday night, she seems genuinely interested, but could she love you like jinx did?

nobody could.

"i'll get you that drink," you reply, trying to put on a polite smile. "but i like to keep that information private."

for all jinx knows, you could be chatting up some girl in a club right now. maybe you're at dinner with a woman right now, laughing over lit candles and red wine. another woman's lips on yours, the place where hers were for so long.

and this hypothetical woman- could you love her? is she pretty? she doesn't want to know.

✧.*

it's been a month and a half now, but jinx hasn't been able to throw away any of your gifts, or any of the things you left at her hideout.

they stare at her from her workbench, from under her bed, mocking her. reminding her of what she once had, but let go of and has no chance of getting back. she thought letting you go would make things better, she could eventually forget you and move on, but she's starting to realize that might never happen.

because of something she did, she left behind the best thing she ever had. even though you promised to stick by her side through absolutely everything. it was supposed to be you and jinx against the world, but now it feels as if you're a world away.

she shifts on the workbench, trying to focus on the task at hand. focus, jinx. focus. she's just reworking pow pow, giving it some upgrades, but she's already burned her fingertips more times than she'd like to admit... and forgot to turn on the blowtorch, and almost tripped over wires, and used the wrong screwdriver heads. truth is, the girl's mind is anywhere but on her work.

"oh, fuck me," she grumbles, slamming the tool down. her body trembles with each move she makes.

her mind is on your scent, your lips, the way your laughter made her heart contract, the sound of you saying her name. damn it, damn it all.

the more she thinks, though, it becomes apparent that she's grateful. below all of the self-loathing, she's glad she got to love you, even if she had to go and fuck it up. it's worth it, because she got to know your warmth for a time, and she wishes so badly that could be enough.

a card she used to open and read any time she felt down glares at her from the workbench, one you'd made for your six month anniversary.

"jinx,

it's been half a year with you. can you believe it? it feels like it's been so much shorter, because i always have so much fun with you. i don't think you realize how happy you make me, or how much i love you. i plan to spend the rest of our anniversaries showing you, though. happy six months ♡

-your trinket"

she hasn't opened it since, and now, the way it seems to shake her by the shoulders and scream "you had one shot," and "she must've already moved on." she can't help the yell that erupts from her chest, or the way she hastily sweeps everything off the workbench.

"fuck you, fuck you! shut up! i did what i had to!"

✧.*

it isn't often that jinx finds herself at the last drop these days. knowing that you're one of the top-performing bartenders has steered her away. while she used to come sit at the counter during your shifts, chatting away while you kept rounds of less-than-nutritious bar food coming, she steers clear now.

no matter how enticing the thought is, or how much she misses the place her childhood self once called a sanctuary, she doesn't go in.

except today, she can't help herself, it's a visceral need. she misses the run-down booths and idle chatter with 'chuck,' and she misses you.

despite the girl doing everything in her power to distract herself from the feeling and her love, she's found herself powerless. she's always been powerless when it comes to you.

the heavy doors swing open, and the smell of liquor is immediate. happy hour has just passed, but the troves of customers remain. laughter and chatter overlap to a sort of informal symphony, one she used to be comforted by.

jinx knows the place like the back of her hand now, and retreats to a middle booth. the drink menus are already laid out, but she isn't interested in any of that. she doesn't want a quick buzz or even some overpriced heated-up food, she just wants to be there. maybe catch a glance of your face. just one would be enough.

she's close enough to the bar, but not close enough to draw attention to herself. hopefully.

a host- a new hire, presumably, approaches the girl's table and quickly eyes her. "anything for you today?"

"...no, not today."

a packed saturday night probably wasn't the best way to clear her head, or even get to see you, now that she realizes the bar is full and you're likely going to be backed up on orders all shift. but at this point, where she knows she was just a damn fool for letting you go, she's desperate.

her appetite is gone and she hasn't been able to create things the way she used to. she needs you so desperately. every second she's spent away from you has felt like her body being slowly ripped in half. she'd follow you to the ends of runeterra if she meant she'd get a glimpse of your beauty once more. if you could hear the sound of her voice begging for you to let her just love you again.

then she hears it, the all too familiar ring of your laughter. jinx's head whips in the direction of the sound and she sees you conversing with a colleague, your arm raised like you're pouring a drink. she can't tell exactly, not with all of the patrons gathered around.

but you look happy. genuinely happy. she doesn't know how much you've cried over her or the fact you had to restrain yourself from calling her that morning, only that you're enjoying yourself. without her.

that sound that she used to hear every night at her place, now just a distant noise in a bar. though the second she sees your gaze turn toward her side of the seating area, she retreats back into the booth. don't get caught, jinx. she can't see you. she doesn't want to see you.

is this all the satisfaction she'll be able to get, watching you from your workplace while you move on with your life? seeing your face from rooms apart and pictures instead of holding it, kissing it? it's absolute torture, but there's no way she'll have any more than this.

she hears it again, a clear rustle of laughter followed by, "oh, you- stop! thieram's gonna kick our asses for that!"

it's clear as day, and it hurts. twists in her stomach. if only she could hear her name in that voice one more time, if only, if only, if only.

she'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loved her.

[ibrithir-was-here]

While You Were Sleeping (Beauty)

Yes, I was the one who cursed Princess Rosamund to die.

And yes, it was because they didn't send me an invitation to her christening.

And because there was no gold plate for me when I showed up anyway.

And also because I was seven, and a spoiled brat, and I expected to be treated with the dignity my title as the Elder Fairy deserved, despite having held it for only a week.

Granny was the Elder Fairy before me, and she'd been the Elder Fairy for as long as anyone could remember. Longer even than the current Oak Fairy had been in her title, and she was at least as old as the kingdom. 

I don't know if she was my real Granny. She never talked about who my parents were, though I knew she'd had a daughter at one point. A prince had carried her off long ago, and Granny rarely ever spoke of her, though sometimes I'd catch her crying over an old cracked hairbrush. 

I'd lived my whole life in Granny's tower, just her and me. Oh there'd been various cats of all shapes,sizes, and temperaments, assorted birds, some enchanted, some not. Occasionally a toad or two. But Granny overall kept to herself, in the old stone tower with no door nor ladder, in the deepest part of the Deep Dark Woods.

I admit, this choice of location likely made it extremely difficult for any messenger carrying said invitation to ever reach her. 

But then again, if the wandering prince had managed to find his way there and make it back out while literally blind, then a professionally trained courier certainly could at least have tried. 

As it was, she died the week before the Christening even happened. 

So you can imagine,  I wasn't in the best state of mind to begin with when I finally got to the party.

Which isn't really an excuse for wishing death upon a baby, especially one who hadn't even so much as spit up on me. She didn't even cry, with all that hustle and bustle and noise and nerve going on. 

I would have cried. I wanted to cry. I wanted to cry about the noise, and having to fly so far, and how there wasn't even a place for me when I did get there, and how all the other fairies from Yew to Apple kept raising their eyebrows and whispering over me, and how much I missed missed missed my Granny, who was never coming back because she was literally dust now.

One minute, she'd been spinning at her spinning wheel, she'd pricked her finger, said “oh”---and the next she was gone. No rhyme or reason to it. She just finally got so Old that even Magic couldn't keep the candle of her life lit anymore.

She went the way of all fairies. There one moment, and in a blink of an eye, gone. Nothing but dust in the wind. Drifting out open window, out over the tops of the trees. Over the hills and far far away.

Leaving me the new Elder Tree Fairy--and  all alone. 

But I couldn't cry,  I couldn't. Because I was the Elder Fairy now, and I was supposed to give a Gift to the newborn baby princess.

The princess who was cooing so sweetly in her little bassinet. All golden and warm and loved.

I don't think I ever felt real Hate until that moment. Looking down at a baby, knowing she was alive and loved and so happy, while my Granny was dead and gone I was so miserable. 

So. I cursed her.

I didn't really mean it mean it, of course. I didn't want her to actually die. I just said it in the heat of a moment. I only meant it a little. 

But of course, Meaning anything in any amount when you're a Fairy still counts.

That's Magic.

I avoided being thrown into a dungeon or worse purely due to my age, and the quick thinking of the Yew fairy, who managed to twist my ill-wish into something less lethal, though certainly more complicated.

Needless to say, the party was ruined.

The Princess and I were both whisked away. She went to some safe location far away from spinning wheels--though after the king’s decree that was really anywhere within a five mile radius of the kingdom-- and I was taken to someplace far away from her.

From then on I was kept under close watch by all the Fairies of the Circle, to ensure that nothing like this ever happened again. The  Alder Fairy was to take over my duties until it was determined I could actually handle them. 

They were all very sorry about Granny of course, and understood I was overwhelmed when I'd done what I did, but they couldn't have the Thirteenth Fairy of the Sacred Circle going around accidentally cursing the heirs of the royal families. 

They needn't have worried. After I came to myself and realized the full magnitude of what I'd almost done, I made a vow to myself to never use my Magic ever ever ever again. 

And I managed to keep that vow too. For sixteen years afterwards I managed to keep it. Not an easy thing to do when surrounded by other fairies and while technically being part of the magical counsel dedicated to watching over the kingdoms.

But I did it. I kept my head down,and rolled up my sleeves. I did whatever I could to help people of the town I'd been paroled to without the use of Magic. 

Cooking, mending, midwifing, herb craft. Anything and everything in daily life that didn't involve aiding third sons on impossible quests or giving deserving merchants' daughters fabulous gowns. I even got to where I would shod horse shoes, despite the sting of the iron.

I was determined to keep to my vow. Determined to show I was Good.

And I tried not to flinch too much whenever the story of the poor princess who was cursed by The Wicked Fairy came up.

I didn't have friends, I kept to myself outside of my works of penance. Better that way, safer. I couldn't hurt anyone if I didn't get close enough to care enough to Mean anything. 

I was lonely yes.

But I was also almost happy.

As happy as I had any right to be.

And then, wherever she was hidden away, the princess somehow got her hands--or rather finger--on a spinning wheel.

I felt it in my bones the moment the Curse took.

I ended up hunched over right  in the high street, and was sick all over my shoes. 

Even as far away as I was, I could feel the rush of my ill-wish as it stung, caught hold, and began to tangle itself all about the Princess and everyone near her. 

And me.

Oh I didn't fall asleep for the next one hundred years.

But I did start to dream.

It took a few years, time enough for me to think that, despite the fact the kingdom was now trying to find it's footing under a regency council, perhaps all would go as the Yew fairy had said, and I could again sink back into my day to day life knowing all would be well.

But one night, the night that marked 20 years since the day of the Worst Thing I Ever Did, I dreamed of her. 

I started out wandering about the courtyard. It was strewn with bodies, like there'd been a huge battle, only none of them were bleeding out, just softly breathing, softer than the hum of a dragonfly.  Then I was wandering into a hallway, past more sleepers, up a set of stairs hidden behind a rather terrible tapestry, and around and around the curves of a lofty tower. 

And there, at the very top, sitting on a bed, looking out the window, long golden hair waving in a wind that stirred nothing else, was Princess Rosamund.

“Oh!” She cried, starting up from her seat and gazing at me with eyes as blue as a robin's egg.  “You-you're awake!”

“Er--” I began, utterly baffled at the proper thing to say to someone who's life you've basically ruined. Perhaps “Please please please forgive me I know I don't deserve it--”

But I didn't have the chance to get as far as the first ‘Please’ before suddenly her arms were around me and my arms were full of her.

I thought for a moment she was attempting to strangle me, and had truthfully very little intention of stopping her, I felt she was rather owed the attempt. But this presumption of attempted revenge was shattered by her next words:

“Oh I am so so glad not to be alone anymore! Its been horrid being the only one awake. I mean, I know I'm asleep out there but I didn't think I'd be alone in the dream and--oh it's good to have someone to talk to!  Did the Yew fairy send you to me? I've been praying and praying to have someone here with me. What's your name?”

I blinked. Stared at the beaming woman who still had her arms wrapped up around my neck in an embrace, as if I were a trusted friend, as if I were a savior there to sweep her away from her loneliness and isolation.

And not the very cause of it all. 

She looked at me as if I were Good. 

I blinked again. Swallowed. 

“My name…” I started, stopped. She would not know my name from her past. Fairies names are tightly guarded, even among themselves. Her father’s court only knew me as The Elder Fairy. The stories as The Wicked Fairy. 

To know a fairy's name was to have power over them.

Well, if anyone was owed that, it was Princess Rosamund.

“My name is Carabosse”, I said, telling her one of my deepest truths.

And then, looking at her looking at me, those robin egg eyes so bright and hopeful and happy, happy to see me-- I told her one of my greatest lies.

“And…yes, the Yew Fairy sent me to you, to keep you company in these long years, until your True Love comes to wake you”

And that was were all the trouble started

[bishovapls]

⚠️ MAJOR THUNDERBOLTS SPOILERS AHEAD ⚠️

I’ve taken a moment to collect my thoughts, so this one’s a bit more organised than just me screaming about how much this movie destroyed me. I’ve got a few of these little rants sitting in my drafts, honestly not sure if I’ll post the rest but here’s this one because...Alexei Shostakov is not a good man and I hate that (some) people seem to think that he is.

Spoilers below the cut!

Alexei is not some bumbling, well-meaning father who just made a few mistakes. He’s not misunderstood. He’s not the comedic relief with a heart of gold buried under the bluster. No. He’s a coward. A narcissist. And worst of all, he’s a willing participant in the very system that destroyed Yelena and Natasha from the inside out.

Let’s be clear: That motherfucker gave them to the Red Room. He knew exactly what that place was. He chose to hand over two little girls, two children who trusted him, to a man he knew would brutalise them, rip away their identities, their agency, their futures. And he did it because it suited his goals. His comeback. His glory. That’s what mattered to Alexei. Not the children in his care. Not their safety. Just the chance to wear a red suit again.

And when he sees them again after all those years? He doesn’t apologise. Not immediately anyways. One of the first things out of his mouth isn’t regret, it’s a rant: “I could have been more famous than Captain America. Then he buries me in Ohio. Three years! Boring me to tears. Then prison for the rest of my life.”

As if he was the victim. As if he was the one who suffered most.

No accountability. No acknowledgement that he ruined their lives. No acknowledgement of the scars they carry, the memories they can’t speak aloud. That he was the one who tossed them straight back into Dreykov’s hands. Just ego. Just bitterness.

And when he does talk about the girls? It’s not with love. It’s not with pride in who they are. It’s pride in what they became. “Yelena, the greatest child assassin in the world.” “Natasha, not just a spy...but an Avenger.” He doesn’t see daughters. He sees achievements. Killing machines forged by the very system he sent them into. He doesn’t see the brutality, let alone take responsibility for it. Because in Alexei’s mind, it worked. That’s all that matters.

And then… suddenly he flips? At the end of Black Widow, he starts trying. He says sorry. He wants to be forgiven. And the thing is, he even seems genuine. But it’s not earned. Not even close. Because barely an hour earlier he was whining about being stuck in Ohio.

Then we get to Thunderbolts, and somehow, he’s meant to be this goofy dad again. Rolling up in a limo, talking like he’s here to save the day, when in reality he hadn't spoken to Yelena in over a year before she shows up desperate, barely holding it together, practically begging him for some sense of permission to stop. And he uses it as an opportunity to talk about himself again, about how he’d love to work for Valentina. Still, it’s about what he could be. Not what she needs.

Yes, in Thunderbolts, he tries. He gives a speech. Seems to care, is genuinely trying to be supportive. And okay, fine, he’s not completely useless. He does make an effort.

But even during that big speech when Yelena breaks down, he says he doesn’t see Yelena’s mistakes. And on the surface, that’s kind. But dig deeper? It’s just more of the same. Because to him, her “mistakes” weren’t mistakes at all. She did what she was trained to do. She killed. She was efficient. That’s what matters to Alexei.

The films want us to forget what he did. They want us to laugh with him. To see the warmth. The effort. But they’re asking us to ignore the damage. The betrayal. The fact that he let his daughters burn, and only now wants to hold the ashes like they still belong to him.

And here’s the part that really fucking kills me: Yelena accepts it.

She’s not angry that he gave her to Dreykov. Not angry about the years of torment. No. She’s angry because he didn’t call. Because after pretending to care in Black Widow, he just disappeared again.

And that's even more devastating for her. Because she’s been hurt so many times, by so many people, that even Alexei’s bare minimum, his delayed, fumbled attempt at showing up, is enough for her. She’s been taught to expect nothing, and she’s learned to be grateful for scraps. She’ll take whatever little piece of warmth he offers, and call it love, because she doesn’t know what love without condition looks like.

He was never a father. Not in the way that matters. He was another person who broke her, who gave her away and never looked back. And now, he wants forgiveness. He wants to be seen as someone worthy of redemption.

But forgiveness without accountability is meaningless.

And Alexei? He still doesn’t understand what he did. Not really.

[thestargayzingetherian]

Five Years Since Catradora Kissed.

Five years ago on this day, a certain ship from kids cartoon that I love named Catradora became canon and kissed and saved their whole goddamn universe. And I don't think anything in any peice of queer media has hit me the same way since then. It still fills me with warmth and happiness just as it did all those years ago.

Catradora isn't just two girls from this really well written show that got together at the end. It's a testament to what stories in our modern age can be capable of doing, the stories they are capable of telling.

Yes, that has come with some caveats, how the creators of these stories are treated like dogshit by the powers that be, as well as 'certain' parts of their audience, not to mention the corporations owning these stories force their queerness into their rainbow capitalisc assimilationist horsecrap. But even still... just seeing how Catradora makes other people feel, how other people have been able to discover themselves because of them tells me that they have a power that no corporate suit will ever understand.

Catra is literally my transition goals for instance and I see so many people identify themselves as an "Adora" or a "Catra" kinnie. Their stories have helped people feel seen and be okay with themselves in a way I haven't seen so openly possible for a long time.

As for myself... Catradora has been there for me for every rough spot I've had the last few years. That no matter what, they give me some comfort. I've seen a lot of drama and bs in the She-Ra fandom, the likes of which I know drove some people away... but I am still here, because my love for these two dorks will always be there. If everyone in the Catradora fandom was to just give up and go to another fandom somewhere else, I would still be here. I would literally be the only Catradora girl alive if that were possible.

I know that in my personal expereince that I've made a lot of mistakes in my time in the fandom. Since I've been off my main social media places a lot the last few months, it's given me a time to think on how toxic and cynical I could be at times, how sometimes I'd make terrible mistakes that would make some people uncomfortable or how toxic some She-Ra fandom spaces were. This is not a callout post by the way, I don't do that kind of thing.

I don't expect everyone to forgive me for some of the things I've done in the past or things I've said. As much as I would want nothing more than to make ammends for anything I've said or done that's warranted any reputation I might have, I realise I can't force people to change. Adora didn't force Catra to change after all, she did it of her own volition and Adora's freinds likewise accepted Catra because they wanted to, not because Catra forced them to.

But I will say this... I am genuinely sorry for everything. For any conversations or ideas I might have worded badly that made people uncomfortable, for going on giant long cynical rants and vents because I was in a bad place, for all of that. I am truly sorry and I hope that I can at least be friends with some of you again.

And while I was only an observer for a lot of the other She-Ra fandom drama, I am sorry to everyone who left the fandom because of that too. I am so goddamn sorry that a bunch of sometimes justified internet drama and arguements caused you to no longer enjoy a beautiful series like She-Ra. I am sorry people did racist shit to Catra that made POC in the fandom deeply uncomfortable, I am sorry that so many people rallied behind good ships like Glimmadora and Entrapdak to harass Catradora stans because of the internet media ilteracy that trained them to hate Catra. I am sorry that these last five years haven't exactly been the best for a lot of you and I know that I alone can't exactly do much to fix that.

But what am I going to do? I'm going to try and keep being postive and making things that I at least hope make someone happy, that put a smile on someone's face. I have over 200 fics about Catradora alone posted on AO3 and probably much, much more planned in the future. Heck, the day this goes up, I'll be FINALLY properly making a start on the big post-canon She-Ra series I've always wanted to write.

I want to try and be a beacon of hope and positivty for anyone who visits my pages. I was told by I think @catras-breakup-song and @witch-apologist that I have somewhat of a repuation for being a nice blog that shows up in people's feeds on here and I hope I can still be that for another five years.

Catradora are in a way... an inspiration to me. Creatively, by writing tons of stories about them. And for their happiness giving me such hope on the days I feel so dark.

So here's to the next five, hell, next TEN years, because hey, if Korrasami can keep people going for ten years, Catradora most certainly can!

May Catradora and everything about She-Ra keep you happy for a good long time, my friends. I hope to see some of you again soon.

[professional-rat-eater]

After reading Blood and Gold, I realized my main issue with Marius de Fuckface is his childishness, especially when his fledglings are the topic of choice.

His treatment of Pandora when she disagreed with him, on several occasions, was to abandon her the next night once he had enough of her back talk. (I can't remember if he left a note for her, but it pissed me off.)

He then brings Bianca into the blood, not because he truly loved her, but because she was a convenience for his healing after immolation. She then chooses to walk away when she finds out that he only wanted Pandora and was willing to abandon her if/when Pandora took him back.

And Armand. He pretty much saw Armand as a lost cause once he found out that Armand was a coven leader for The Children of Darkness. Never once did he think to seek out Armand because I know for damn sure Armand would have walked away if he was asked to by his maker.

The only good thing that man did was take Daniel in when Armand could no longer care for him. Granted, once Daniel was better, he went right back to Armand.

Sorry this was more of a rant than an actual conversation or question. You've made some valid points about character analysis and how people respond to those analyses.

Meant to respond to this ages ago. Sorry about that! Also thank you for using Marius’s full legal government name. I’m hoping it’ll spread further and become more popular.

You’re right. He’s incredibly childish which is hilarious considering one of his companions was an actual child. His character is so defined by immaturity, selfishness and arrogance. A petulant child in the body of a grown man and he has absolutely no excuse for it. He was a full adult when he was turned and two thousand years gave him plenty of time to grow.

I hope the show spares Daniel from spending time with him, if only for how much Marius loves the sound of his own voice. I would’ve walked into sunlight rather than listen to another word if I were Daniel.

It is funny how defensive a lot of the responses I got were when I was talking about him. The ‘whataboutisms’ were abundant, as if reminding us that Armand (who I talk about the most) is also a monster somehow alters anything I was saying and didn’t actually reinforce my point. I don’t see what’s so hard about just calling things what they are.

I mean there are a number of Armand moments that make me have to put the book down/hit the pause button and take a lap around the room. I feel like if you don’t have moments where you even kinda hate l your favourites, then something isn’t clicking. I could make a list of Armand moments where he genuinely gives me the ick so badly but I wouldn’t want to change those moments because they’re part of him. I love him, not some sanitised fanfic version of him.

[maddie-dog-story-blog]

The Birthday - 8

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Given everything that had transpired over the last few days, I shouldn't have been surprised by the sight that greeted me in the kitchen. However, despite everything, I still was.

As I waddled behind Melody, still dressed in the abhorrently sexy blue nightie and matching lingerie she woke up in, and entered the dining room, I couldn't help but grimace at the sight. Beside our normal dining room set up, a large, adult-sized high chair was looming in the middle of the room.

"Mommy," I lisped out in frustration and terror, "Pwease, no!"

Melody turned and glared at me as she pulled the tray off of the chair, revealing the white wooden seat underneath as well as the ankle and wrist restraints attached to it.

"You didn't just say, 'No,' to Mommy, did you baby boy?" She crooned with a warning tone. "Maybe I should just take away your ability to use that word at all?"

I felt my bladder release involuntarily at the thought of my wife using her new-found power to remove my ability to even voice the word, 'No.'

"Mommy, no… I mean… Pwease… I'll be good!"

The smile my wife threw me as I pathetically acquiesced to her threats caused me to shuffle submissively on my bare feet. What was I becoming, that I could so easily be cowed by her. Was I really just the male version of the pathetic little diaper girls from my stories?

Before I could ruminate on that thought longer, the sound of flesh on wood snapped my consciousness back into the real world.

"Come here, baby boy! Climb on up your highchair! Mommy's got all sorts of num-nums to feed you this morning!" Melody slapped the seat of the chair, urging me to comply with her command.

Without a word, I waddled over to the childish throne and little Melody help me up. As I climbed into the seat, she took the opportunity to squeeze the soaked padding between my legs.

"Maybe I should have bought you thicker diapers? Hm… I wonder how you'd look in two? You seem to love making those poor little things in your stories wear padding so thick that they can't walk. I know that my itty-bitty little hubby would absolutely love that!"

I felt my face turn bright red at my wife's words. The thought of wearing even thicker diapers overwhelming me. But, I didn't say anything to contradict her. I wasn't going to risk losing my ability to refuse her so near to when the threat had been made.

"But, first things first! Let's get my hungry little man fed!"

Melody strapped my wrists and ankles into the surprisingly comfortable cuffs before sliding the highchair's tray back into place. I pulled against the restraints slightly, testing their strength, only to confirm what I already knew: I was well and truly stuck.

"Sweet pea, I know it's your birthday weekend. And I know you love a big, yummy breakfast. But, it's been more than 24-hours since you made a stinky."

I nearly died inside as I watched my drop dead gorgeous wife sashay into the kitchen as she discussed my bowel movements (or lack there of) like I was an infant. I felt my manhood grow in my soggy pants, betraying the dignity I was so desperately trying to cling to.

"So, unfortunately, instead of the tasty pancakes and bacon, I was going to make you, Mommy's got to make you something that'll help get the poo-poo express moving instead."

I whimper in response, hating the fact I can't use my hands to hide my face from the embarrassment of my situation.

"Luckily for you, I have just the thing."

I watched nervously from my perch, suckling my paci, as Melody got to work making my breakfast. From my vantage point, I couldn't see much until she turned around.

I almost spit out my paci as I stared at what was in her hand. A gigantic bowl of oatmeal topped with prunes, a large spoon, and a bottle full of a purple liquid that could only be prune juice.

I wiggled futilely in my seat as she approached.

Yes, I had wet myself. I had nursed on her tit. I had even debased myself in my sleep in front of her. But, I wouldn't--I couldn't--bring myself to shit in a diaper just for her own, petty amusement. However, with the terror that filled my body at just the thought of a toilet and knowledge of what that meal would do to my guts, I couldn't see how I was escaping this.

So, I did the next best thing I could--well, at least the next best thing that came to my mind at the time. Really, it was the only thing I could think to do. I threw what was, in retrospect, a tantrum.

"No, no, no, no, no! Please, Mommy, please! No! I'll be good! I'll be good! Don't make me eat that! I don't want to poop my pants! I'm not a baby!"

My words flowed from me in a rush as I shook desperately in my seat. Melody shook her head.

"What did Mommy say about telling her no? Such a naughty baby. Mommy says you don't know how to use that naughty word anymore!"

My brain and tongue felt like it shorted out as I tried to continue my cries.

"N… Nnnn… NnNnNnNNn… Mommy… Nnnnn! Not a baby!" Spit dribbled from my lips rather than the end of the word I was suddenly unable to say.

In my highchair, drool dribbling down my chin, babbling like an infant, while throwing a tantrum in a soggy diaper, I couldn't believe my own words. Tears started to stream down my face as I let my body go slack against my restraints.

Melody gently caressed the side of my face soothingly as she set the bowl and bottle down in front of me.

"Hush, baby, it's not so bad being Mommy's good boy. You'll see. Now, let's get you fed."

Defeated, I put up little resistance to my wife when she began to feed me the disgusting mix of fiber and fruit from the bowl in front of me. I opened my mouth and ate spoonful after spoonful of the messy concoction, Melody teasing me the whole time and making sure to insure my face and chest were as messy as possible by making me miss the spoon and overfilling my mouth with the mush.

"Such a messy eater! Look at you! I wonder how long it'll be until your little tushy is as messy as your face?"

I closed my eyes and tried to pretend I was anywhere else when, as if in answer to my wife's question, a cramp rocked my stomach, causing me to bend over in my seat.

"Mommy," I chirped out pathetically, "please, nnnnn…"

Tears ran down my face anew as I realized I physically couldn't say no and emotionally couldn't bring myself to ask to use the toilet. I was fucked.

"What, baby?" She responded with a knowing smirk, "Are you thirsty? Here, drink your baba!"

She shoved the nipple of the bottle in my mouth, shutting down my pathetic protests. And I moaned as another cramp hit me.

I didn't want to drink. My stomach suddenly felt too full to take any more. I looked up at Melody with big, pathetic eyes, blushing again as I thought about just how adult and sexy she must look compared to how disgusting and little I felt.

"Mommy says drink."

That's all it took. Reflectively, I began to suckle the sweet juice. I drank so quickly, the prune juice started to dribble down my cheek, joining the remains of the oatmeal.

At the same time, the cramps in my stomach intensified, becoming unbearable. My tears increased as I realized I had no choice. I was going to shit myself for the first time as an adult.

With an audible grunt and a squint of my eyes, I gave in. A torrent of warm, sticky mess exploded from my ass, filling the already soggy diaper. The sticky mess, squishing around my ass, made it feel like I was sitting on a pile of warm playdough. The knowledge of what it was, caused me to get a little, but, despite my disgust, I couldn't stop suckling.

"That's my good boy, making Mommy a big, stinky present!"

The bottle between my lips finally emptied, leaving me sucking air as Melody took it from me.

"Don't you just look like the most pathetic little thing! Why don't I take a picture commemorating this moment!"

She crooned, stepping back and taking out her phone.

"Mommy says smile! Mommy says say, 'Stinky Diapers!'"

Involuntarily, I could feel a huge, stupid grin cross my face. Staring right at the camera, with an embarassingly cheery tone, I yelled, "Stinky Diapers," as my wife took a picture of me in my humiliating state.

She walked back over me, phone in hand, and showed me the photo of myself. I almost felt like my brain broke in that moment.

The person staring back at me with the big stupid grin on his face couldn't be me. His face and chest were covered in oatmeal and juice like a messy toddler. He was strapped into a highchair like an infant. And the white diaper between his legs? It was tinted a suspicious shade of brown and yellow.

Worst of all though, he appeared to be enjoying all of it.

However, as much as I wanted to deny that was me, staring back from the phone, I couldn't.

You can't make someone do something they don't want to with hypnosis.

The phrase ran throw my mind, and I visibly shuddered.

"Let's get my baby boy cleaned up! Mommy's got one more big birthday surprise for you this weekend!" Melody's voice cut through the din of my thoughts.

I nearly wet myself again, horrified to see what new terrors she had in store for me.

[shelbgrey]

Hungry Eyes (Carlisle Cullen)

Paring: Carlisle cullen x wolf!Reader

Summary: (takes place during Eclips) in the most Alice Cullen way possible, the Cullen home was turned into a pad for the biggest graduation part Forks has ever seen. Y/n Black - now y/n Cullen and Carlisle are newlyweds fresh from their honeymoon. Y/n is a touched starved girl with a man that's constantly touching. Y/n is also a girl who hates crowds, but she also has a man that has no problem taking her mind off things

Warnings: SMUT! unprotected sex(they're married, so it's cool), supernatural qualities make quick appearances (might not exactly fit the ones from the stories), rough sex, riding, multiple orgasms, oral(F receiving), slight fingering, breast worship, not edited, my first twilight smut I think.

MasterList ML2

In Alice Cullen fashion, she threw a big graduation party at their home. The whole graduation class and then some showed up. The large house the Cullens called home suddenly felt crowded and was filled with buzzed graduates and God awful music. Y/n Black - excuse me, Y/n Cullen did have to give credit where it was deserved. Alice could throw a party and everything did look beautiful, even if she was overly punctual and practically played drill Sergeant while trying to get Emmett and Jasper to help with decorating hours prior.

Y/n couldn't use any excuses, the whole night was getting old. Loud music can do a number on someone with heightened sense. Alice had gotten onto Carlisle's beautiful new wife for this evening's fashion choices. Of course y/n's childish side wanted to counteract with getting onto Alice for her music choices, but decided to just grin and bear it. Actually she just stayed up on the second floor of the house, leaning against the stair railing and watched the first floor of the house flood with people. Y/n wished she and Carlisle were back at their little beach house outside of Rio and extended the honeymoon.

It didn't take Carlisle long to find her, not just because her intoxicating scent flooded his senses the closer he got, but because he knew her all too well. It wasn't a surprise to see her away from the crowd. Carlise approached her from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist gently. “There you are, Darling” he whispers in her ear, his voice smooth like satin and never failed to make all her senses weak. The only cacophony that could calm her and distract her from what was going on downstairs.

“My love” Y/n smirked, turning in his arms and grabbing the lapels of his suit jacket as his eyes flashed with amusement. She didn't hesitate to pull him closer so they're chests nearly touched. Since the honeymoon - hell, even before, she couldn't keep her hands to herself. Plus(in her mind) it seemed so much more exciting or pure now since they got married. Every touch, whisper, and kiss reserved just for each other.

Carlisle's golden eyes locked with hers - desire clouded them. He loved that marriage seems to have made her even bolder. His hands slid down to her backside possessively, his could touch sending a shiver down her spine. Y/n cupped his jaw as Carlisle leaned down, hovering his lips against hers. Although his teasing usually excited and both annoyed her sexually, she wasn't having it tonight. She pressed her lips against his roughly. Her other hand slipped into the opening where the top two buttons of his white shirt were undone, resting her hand against the ice cold skin where his collarbone and neck met. The newlyweds weren't much into major pda, but no one was paying attention to them that night - merely two shadows in the background of the dim room.

Carlisle's hand tangles in her hair as the kiss becomes more passionate as he gently pressed her against the wall that hid them from the party down below. She moaned softly against his lips, a sound only caught because of his heightened hearing. He knew what she wanted and didn't have to be told twice. Carlisle pulls back just enough to whisper against her lips, his cool breath tickling them. “Should I take you to our room?”

“I think you should, Dr. Cullen” y/n whispered seductively.

A small grin tugs at his lips at her use of his title, knowing it's meant to tease him. “Well, Mrs. Cullen,” His hands slid upward, gripping her hips as she stared up at him, biting the corner of her lip. His golden eyes bore into hers intensely, his voice low and husky as they snuck away to their room. “I think I'd be a very irresponsible husband if I didn't take my wife upstairs for a bit”

“It would be, it's been too long since you've touched me” y/n smirked, pulling him into their bedroom by the scarf he had draped over his neck. He always had a thing for them for some reason, but y/n definitely wasn't complaining - definitely didn't complain when he had her tied up with one.

He chuckles softly as he kicks the bedroom door shut behind him, his arms still wrapped around her. “Too long? Didn't I make love to you this morning?” But even as he teases her, his hands start to roam possessively over her body as he walks them towards the bed.

“I need more” y/n said softly, standing up on her toes and at the same time pulling him down to her height by the collar of his white dress shirt and pressed her lips back against his passionately.

Carlisle groaned softly, kissing y/n back with equal fervor. His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer to him. She let out a moan at the feeling, carding her fingers through his hair. He could feel her heated body pressing against his ice cold one, making him even more eager to get rid of the clothes that separated them.

Carlisle deepened the kiss, his tongue gently probing her mouth as he walked y/n backward towards the bed. His hands moved from her waist to her back, unzipping her dress with practiced ease - he couldn't bring himself to rip it off, knowing it was her favorite. He broke the kiss only to watch the dress fall to the floor, pooling at her feet.

Y/n shivered as she pressed her lips back against his, kissing him in a rushed pace as she pushed his gray suit jacket off his shoulders and onto the floor with her dress. His breath caught in his throat as Her fingers worked quickly at the buttons of his white dress shirt, desperately needing to feel his hard, ice cold skin against hers. His vampire temperature never bothered her, his ice cold skin always felt amazing against her high temperature skin. He groaned at the feeling of her warm skin as it brushed over every inch of skin that was exposed. He couldn't take it anymore and reach for the last few buttons to speed up the process. He quickly shrugged off the material completely, his cold skin already becoming flushed at her touch. His hands moved to her thighs, lifting her easily onto the bed while he kissed along her jawline and neck.

Y/n pulled away, leaning back in the bed. Her fingers trailing down his hard, pale chest sensually. It was like he was sculpted to perfection. “God, you're handsome” she whispered as her hands went lower to his hips and to his belt.

Carlisle smiled softly at her words, his golden eyes locked onto hers. He loved when she praised him, even if he didn't think much of it. He watched as her hands moved to his buckle, his own hands gripping onto her thighs to spread her legs wider. “And you're absolutely gorgeous” he whispered.

Y/n blushed, almost losing focus on his belt, his voice, his words, everything had this huge affect on her and Carlisle knew it. She got the buckle loose and he sucked in a sharp breath as she yanked through the loops of his dress pants. He loved when she was eager like this. He unbuttoned his dress pants, pushing them down along with his black boxers. Y/n's eyes unapologetically roamed his now fully naked body. Carlisle smirked, watching her bite her lip as she spread her perfect body out on the bed.

Y/n didn't waste any time discarding her lace panties. She stared into his gold eyes as she quickly discarded the expensive material and threw them his way. Carlisle caught it with quick reflex as y/n layed back down. He smirked before dropping them to the floor. He crawled onto the bed slowly, his eyes trailing over every inch of her exposed skin. He wanted to worship every inch of her. “Damn” he breathed out, positioning himself between her thighs.

He growled softly, his golden eyes flickering with hunger as his head dipped south. His cold lips trailing along her inner thigh before he buried his face between her thighs, his cold tongue parting her warm folds. “Delicious”

Y/n’s head fell back as she let out a whiny moan. She gripped his blond hair, arching her hips up against his mouth. Carlisle wrapped his arms around her legs, holding them spread wide as he licked and sucked at her sensitive clit. His cold mouth contrasting with her warm pussy felt incredible. He pushed his tongue inside of her, fucking her slowly with it as he watched hee face contort with pleasure.

Y/n gasped, looking down. Her (e/c) eyes met his gold ones. “oh, God. Carlisle!” she gasped, her head tilting back.

His golden eyes were filled with desire and love. He added a finger inside of her, pumping it in and out slowly as he continued to lick and suck at her clit. He loved watching her like this, so lost in pleasure and calling out his name.

“Car” Y/n mumbled, her hips arched as he grabbed one of her thighs, throwing it over his shoulder. Carlise growled against her, loving the way she was losing control. He added a finger, curling them inside of her as he sucked hard on her clit. She whined and moaned in pleasure as she tugged and messed up his perfect hair. His free hand moved up to squeeze one of her lace covered breasts, his thumb brushing over her hard nipple. “Come for me, Darling”

Y/n grasped his hand, pulling it off her boob and lacing her fingers with his. Her head fell back in pleasure as the tight knot in her stomach snapped. Her free hand tugged at his hair and her hips rutted up as she rode out her release.

Carlisle groaned, his fingers and tongue working her through her orgasm. He loved the way she squeezed around his fingers and the way she pulled his hair. He slowly removed his fingers, bringing them to his mouth to clean them off. “Mmm, so sweet” he purred.

He crawled up her body slowly, kissing and licking along her stomach and sides. He pushed the lace of her bralette off to the side to reveal one of her perfect pink nipples. “You're so damn gorgeous” he murmured before sucking one of her hard peaks into his mouth, making her moaned softly. She cupped one side of his jaw with one hand and the other went to his hair as her chest arched at the welcoming assault.

Carlisle hummed against her breast, sucking harder and swirling his tongue around her nipple. He loved every one of her reactions, her body arching off the bed and her fingers tugging at his hair. He released one breast only to move to the other one, nipping softly at it. “y/n”

“C-Carlisle,” she moaned softly and breathlessly. “N-need you inside me”

He groans deeply, his cock throbbing against her thigh at her words. He quickly positioned himself at her entrance. He looks into her eyes, seeing the raw desire and need reflected back at him. “As my lady wishes” he says softly before slowly pushing inside her.

Y/n's head feel back as she moaned louder, digging hee nails into his back as he slowly and teasingly pressed into her, his thick, cold length filling her up completely. He bottomed out, his hips pressed flush against hers. He groaned softly, his head nuzzling into the crook of her neck. He kissed and nipped at her neck, his hips starting to move in a slow, steady rhythm. He pulled out slowly before slamming back into her, now setting a fast and hard pace. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room along with her moans and his groans.

“Carlisle” y/n groaned and moaned, tugging at his hair. She felt her skin getting hotter and her emotions slipping. Y/n stared into his gold eyes, her lips permanently parted and supplying sounds of pure pleasure as her (e/c) irises faded into black.

Carlisle watched her eyes darken with lust and pleasure. Her nails were sharp and digging into his back like little claws. Her skin was hot and flushed. He knew she was losing control, his woman getting wilder and needier.

Y/n gasped softly. Feeling bold she used her strength she got after phasing and flipped them, catching Carlisle off gard as she tested their power dynamic. She pushed him into the sheet and straddled him. Carlisle strong arms wrapping around her waist as he looked up at her with suduction in his golden eyes, his fangs slightly elongating as he panted. He loved when she got feisty and tested his strength.

Y/n held on to his shoulders and started rocking her hips. He groaned deeply, his long fingers gripping her hips tightly as she move. He lifted his hips up to meet her, thrusting into her hard and fast. “Carlisle!” she cried out, her head falling back in pleasure. He watched as her breasts bounced with each movement, his other hand reaching up to grope and squeeze one.

“damn, y/n” His mouth fell open watching her ride him. She was so beautiful like this, wild and needy. Her hair was all over the place, her back arched, breasts bouncing. He snapped his hips up sharply, hitting that deep spot inside of her that made her screech. Carlisle did it again, hitting that spot deliberately. Y/n's inner walls clenched around him tightly, her movements becoming erratic. He knew she was close. He suddenly sat up, wrapping his arms around her and flipping her back over so he was on top again.

The impact they're bodies made had the bed creaking and y/n moaning as she gripped his biceps. His golden eyes darkened with lust watching y/n’s body writhe underneath him. He spread her legs wide again, pounding into her hard and fast. He watched her breasts bounce and her mouth fall open in moans and cries. He loved that he could manhandle her like this without hurting her. “Love”

“I'm gonna cum!” she cried out.

Carlisle growled, his fingers digging into her thighs spread wide. He hit that spot inside of her again and again, his pace punishing. He watched her mouth open in a silent scream as her release built up. Her black eyes rolled back slightly, her back arched off the bed sharply. He swallowed loudly.

Y/n finally reached the edge, letting all her nerves relax as her vision became stary and blurred, her legs tightend around his hips and her nails bit into his biceps, carlisle watched her eyes roll back for the immense pleasure while her head fell back against the pillows. My orgasm washed over me, loud moans and pants were coming out from her mouth.

With a final deep thrust, carlisle released inside of her, groaning her name. He collapsed partially on top of her, his weight supported on his elbows. One hand gripped her hair tenderly as he stared down at her blissed-out expression. His thumb traced her bottom lip gently.

“Carlisle…” Y/n heaved softly, catching her breath.

He nuzzled his face into her neck, breathing in her scent deeply. “Look at me” He murmured softly, his thumb still tracing her bottom lip. He wanted to see her eyes roll back again, see that blissed-out expression on her beautiful face.

Y/n looked up, his golden eyes searched her black ones intently. He saw the satiated expression, the way her eyes were slightly dilated and glazed over. He smiled softly, his thumb pressing her bottom lip open slightly. “More” y/n whispered as Carlisle leaned down, pressing soft kisses on her jaw and throat.

“more” Carlisle agreed, his eyes darkened dangerously. He pulled out slowly only to slam back into her hard. He spread her legs wider, his pace quick and brutal. He watched her breasts bounce again, her back arching sharply. He growled softly.

“Carlisle!” y/n cried out, raking her nails down his back.

His golden eyes rolled back slightly. He snapped his hips harshly, one hand sliding down to grope her breast roughly. He watched her mouth fall open again, her head throw back. He spread her legs wider apart and pounded into her like an animal.

“Oh, God. Don't stop!” y/n cried out, arching her hips up “Carlisle!”

He growled deeply, his hips moving faster and harder. Y/n’s cries spurred him on more than anything else could. He gripped her thighs tightly, his golden eyes were locked onto her bouncing breasts and her flushed face.

Y/n moaned and whined. She grabed both sides of his jaw in her hands, tilting his head up. She gasped and moaned as she held his face in her hands and kepted eyes contact with his gold ones. Fuck, she loved his eyes and the way his usually perfect blond hair was all over the place - lose and draped over his forehead. Y/n iris and pupils had gone full black in pleasure as she Ignored any disire that was linked to her need to phase.

Carlisle maintained eye contact with her. The sight of her black eyes and flushed cheeks drove him wild. He leaned down slightly, his lips brushing against hers as he continued to pound into her relentlessly. His hands gripped her thighs tighter as she gave him deeper access.

“I... I need to cum again” y/n moaned desperately.

He growled softly, his golden eyes locked onto her black ones. He could feel her getting close again, her inner walls tightening around him like a vice. He wrapped his arms around her thighs and hooked her legs over his elbow, opening her up wider to him.

“Carlisle!” she cried out and He slammed into her so deep that she felt him in her stomach. He held that position, grinding his hips against hers as he reached down with his free hand to rub her clit aggressively. His golden eyes watched her black ones roll back as he finally pushed her over the edge.

Y/n’s mouth fell open in a small, almost animal like purr sound came from her throat as she came hard around him. He growled deeply at the sounds she made, his fangs fully elongating as he watched her intense orgasm take over. Y/n’s black eyes rolled completely back, her mouth open in a perfect O. He felt her inner muscles clench around him so tightly that he lost control and came with you.

Carlisle collapsed on top of her, his large body pinning her to the bed as he tried to control himself. His golden eyes searched her face, taking in her black eyes that were slowly rolling back to their normal color. He nuzzled his face into her neck and inhaled her scent deeply.

“Damn” y/n said softly, catching her breath and carding her fingers through his hair lazily as her eyes slowly faded back to their normal (e/c) shade.

“Mhmm,” He hummed softly, lifting his head to look at her. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair spread messily over the pillows. He saw her full lips slightly parted. “Darling?” He called softly, pulling out slowly.

“I love you” he said, a soft smile playing on his lips as he gently stroked her cheek.

“I love you more” she smiled back, nuzzling her nose against his.

“not possible” he said, without missing a beat.

[azonewithu]

They ate not good people. But you know what the funny thing is. Theyre afraid of you now too. Ha ha ha ga they are. Becausebof me bur who care. I only did it becsuse of yoy so i guess becsuse of you evrn more. I dont help people directly like that much st keast i admit it. These asshile beat to a fucon pulp loser americans tell oeople they actuslkt hellp people. They ste disgustiing nobody lijes thrm mych whosecreal. Because theyre slll phonies. Aside from fun dhows themey dontgat well you evefgonin a room full of thrm and think wow these demons ate full of themsrlves abd theyre small and not do great looking. Hey i t eastwood how ya doin bitch? Bitch i saud yiure a sevils bitch. I dont like thet giy. I limed him back in the day. If yiu ssk oeople hes not yoo frienfky or goid yo people. Thats sll of them. You englush eorse youre oasi e aggtesdive assholes. Like thise sntigue roadshow giys. I just font likenpeople like thst who ate all sbout sutbenticity but gheyre eat phonies themselves. I like yhe show still. Part of it is hsti g yhem when they talk though. And rotalty dont get ke staryed. Oh i know dhe likes me im her secret crush. Im a lit if girls secret crush. But theure the kind of phony thst really getsbon my nerves. And yhey ste not good yo theur iwn us disgusting. Im sure you fknt get slomg irrfrctky with every fsmily member you have. Bit thrure stoll your family right? Tell thst to those people. And i love tellung dverykne eholl resd or lusyen i anihilated california over child pornography. Do t you say shuot sylvesyer i vestor stalline you know ehst buddy shutbthe fuck up. Your oeople ste hstes not pived. Abd youbtell jsnes woods or sny other rat from hollyweird its what thry deserved they got. I made the call James to ksunch the attack. I tepresent Gid uoure a scum bag so shut up asshole. You talk kne more time youre desd mither fucjer. Trunp csnt irotect shit. Hes fuvked sbd he dies not care about you people. You see that now. Hes a nazi himself. He acts like hitler. We seevthat we temptelaring a military i tervention. Touting despots hes not a real smerican hes an asshole like you. Hows the eebuold ging dliw. Yhe next fire makes yoy awatevthete is no renuilding. For Emma i did it for a girl. Why do giys do anything? Ha ha ha ahh ya asshole. She foesnt like all that pornography shit your yhe biggest hated demon producers on earth. Gid ssid kill thrm and hes right. You better chenge or as doon as you rebuild ill hot thecregion withan earthquaje like no otber. Cjange dont be you anymore be someone better. Or else. Thats from God.

[technolilly]

IN A GETAWAY CAR

OH OOOOHHH

NO THEY NEVER GET FAR

OH OOOOOOOOOHHHH

NO NOTHING GOOD STARTS IN A GETAWAY CAR

[thebrainrotsreal]

Eve, Kate, Mark and Rex! Nailing some ideas down on how I wanna draw them in the future, and enjoying messing with their designs like usual! Not a fix-it whatsoever just fun + ref for the future! I cannot do realistic styles so translating them into something I can do while still being recognizable is peak. I will mess with Rex's suit more. Trust. I Kate so much now. Look at her <333333

[justaz]

like i’ve said time and time again, i haven’t watched bbc merlin in years but i was just wondering when the first time merlin called arthur by his name to his face and im scrolling thru the transcripts on the fandom wiki (supposedly it was s1ep4 btw) and im skimming the script for all these episodes and getting angrier and angrier. gaius was wrong for all that. morgana deserved so much better. edwin muirden was valid as hell (for targeting uther AND gaius. yeah. i said it.). also kilgharrah ate with that one lil line “then turn a blind eye. that is, after all, your talent” okay lizard brain pop offff.

[angelwinkteruhashi]

[["#i just want everyone to be happy. thats what im trying to do." I feel like most of the reason why she wants Sawakita to be in a relationship with Maeko is because it would mean one less pair of obsessive eyes on her. But saying that desire would reveal that she knows how highly everyone thinks of her, which is unbecoming of a perfect pretty girl and would put a crack in her facade. I'm not going anywhere with this, I just adore Teruhashi and think the way you RP her is FANTASTIC :D]]

((OOC POST))

EXACTLYYYYYYYYYYYYYY YOU GET ME ANON YOU GET ME

AHHHHHHH I'm obsessed w her

My thought process for her in this current situation is kind of like a mixture of her wanting one less pairs of eyes on her, while also trying to get the peace of mind that this isnt her fault by trying to "fix" the problem without actually considering what might be best for the people she's trying to help rn. She's the perfect pretty girl after all, she can't have this being something people know her for! (Not to mention i headcanon that Yumehara's enjoyment of love stories and that kind of stuff absolutely rubbed off on her, so she is also kind of rooting for Naegi here)

There's also the mix of genuinely wanting people to be happy and wanting them to actually live their lives without being in love with her, but that's not nearly at the forefront of her mind.

But no yeah a lot of this is for a much more selfish reason than she'd ever openly admit without an outside force making her do so.

[champselysees]

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