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jewelleria · 9 months ago

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I don’t usually talk about politics on here, if ever. But it’s been almost six months since the conflict in the Middle East flared up again, and I’m finally ready to start. Here are some of my thoughts.

I say ‘flared up’ because this has happened before and it’ll happen again. Because, even though what's currently going on is absolutely unprecedented, those of us who live in this part of the world are used to it. Let that sink in: we are used to this. And we shouldn’t have to be.

But I use that term for another reason: I don't want to accidentally call it the wrong thing lest I come under fire for being a genocidal maniac or a terrorist or a propaganda machine, etc., etc.—so let’s just call it ‘the war’ or ‘the conflict.’ Because that’s what it is. Doesn’t matter which side you’re on, who you love, or who you hate.

This post will, in all likelihood, sit in my drafts forever. If it does get posted, it certainly won’t be on my main, because I'm scared of being harassed (spoiler: she posted it on her main). I hate admitting that, but honestly? I’m fucking terrified.

I also feel like in order for anything I say on here (i.e. the hellscape of the internet) to be taken seriously, I have to somehow prove that a) I’m “educated” enough to talk about the conflict, and b) that my opinion lines up with what has been deemed the correct one. So, tedious and unnecessary though it is, I will tell you about my experience, because I have a feeling most of the people reading this post are not nearly as close to what’s happening as I am.

How do I explain where I live without actually explaining where I live? How do I say “I live in the Red Zone of international conflicts” without saying what I actually think? How do I convey the fear that grips me when I try to decide between saying “I live in Palestine” and “I live in Israel”? I don't really know. But I do know that names are important. I also know that, due to the various clickbaity monikers ascribed to the conflict, it would probably just be easier to point to a map.

I haven't always lived in the Middle East. I've lived in various places along America’s east coast, and traveled all over the world. But in short, I now live somewhere inside the crudely-drawn purple circle.

If you know anything about these borders you probably blanched a bit in sympathy, or maybe condolence. But in truth, it’s a shockingly normal existence. I don't feel like I've lived through the shifting of international relations or a war or anything. I just kind of feel like I did when COVID hit, that dull sameness as I wondered if this would be the only world-altering event to shape my life, or if there would be more.

I've been told that, in order for my brain to process all the horrific details of the past six months, there needs to be some element of cognitive dissonance—that falling into a sort of dissociative mindset is the only way to not go insane under the weight of it all. I think in some ways that’s true. I have been terrifyingly close to bus stop shootings when my commute wasn’t over; I have felt my apartment building shake with the reverberations of a missile strike; I have spent hours in underground shelters waiting for air raid sirens to stop.

But. I have also gone grocery shopping, and skipped class, and stayed up too late watching TV, and fed the cats on the street corner, and cried over a boy, and got myself AirPods just because, and taken out the trash, and done laundry on a delicate cycle, and bought overpriced lattes one too many days a week. I have looked at pretty things and taken out my phone because, despite it all, I still think that life is too short not to freeze the small moments.

So I'd say, all things considered, I live an incredibly privileged life—compared, of course, to those suffering in Gaza—one filled with sunsets and over-sweetened knafeh and every different color of sand. One that allows me to throw myself into a fandom-induced hyperfixation (or, alternatively, escape method) as I sit on the couch and crack open my laptop to write the next chapter of the fic I'm working on.

But there are bits of not-normalness that wheedle their way through the cracks. I pretend these moments are avoidable, even if they’re not.

They look like this: reading the news and seeing another idiotic, careless choice on Netanyahu’s part and groaning into my morning coffee. Watching Palestinian and Jewish children’s needless suffering posted on Instagram reels and feeling helpless. Opening my Tumblr DMs to find a message telling me to exterminate myself for reblogging a post that only seems like it’s about the war if you squint and tilt your head sideways.

These moments look like all the tiny ways I am reminded that I'm living in a post-October seventh world, where hearing a car backfire makes me jump out of my skin and the sound of a suitcase on pavement makes me look up at the sky and search for the war planes. They look like the heavy grief that is, and also isn’t, mine.

Here's the thing, though. I know you’re wondering when the ball will drop and my true opinion will be revealed. I know you’re waiting for me to reveal what demographic I'm a part of so that you, dear reader, can neatly slap a label on my head and sort me into some oversimplified category that lets you continue to think you understand this war.

No one wants to sit and ruminate on the difficult questions, the ones that make you wonder if maybe you’ve been tinkered with by the propaganda machine, if you might need to go back on what you’ve said or change your mind. We all strive for our perception of complicated issues to be a comfortable one.

But I know that no matter what I do, there will always be assumptions. So, while I shudder to reveal this information online, I think that maybe my most significant contribution to this meta-discussion spanning every facet of the internet is this:

I am a Jew.

Or, alternatively, I am: Jewish, יהודית, يَهُودِيٌّ, etc. Point is, I come from Jews. And, like any given person, I am a product of generation after generation of love.

I'm not going to take time to explain my heritage to you, or to prove that before all the expulsions and pogroms, there was an origin point. If you don’t believe that, perhaps it’s less of a factual problem and more of an ‘I don’t give weight to the beliefs of indigenous people’ problem. But, in case you want to spend time uselessly refuting this tiny point in a larger argument, you can inspect the photos below (it’s just a small chunk of my DNA test results). Alternatively, you can remember that interrogating someone in an attempt to make their indigeneity match your arbitrary criteria is generally not seen as good manners.

Now, let’s go back to thathateful message (read: poorly disguised death threat) I received in my Tumblr DMs. I think it was like two or three weeks ago. I had recently gained a new follower whose blog’s primary focus was the fandom I contribute to, so I followed them back. I saw in my notes that they were going through my posts and liking them—as one does when gaining a new mutual. Yippee!

Then they sent me this:

I tried to explain that hate speech is not a way to go about participating in political discourse, but the person had already blocked me immediately after sending that message. Then, assured by the fact that I surely would never see them complaining about me on their blog (because, as I said, they blocked me), they posted a shouting rant accusing me of sympathizing with colonizing settlers and declaring me a “racist Zionist fuck.” Oh, the wonders of incognito tabs.

Where this person drew these conclusions after reading my (reblogged) post about antisemitism…. I'm not actually sure. But I greatly sympathize with them, and hope that they weren’t too personally offended by my desire to not die.

For a while I contemplated this experience in my righteous anger, and tried to figure out a way to message this person. I wanted to explain that a) seeing a post about being Jewish and choosing to harass the creator about Israel is literally the definition of antisemitism and b) that sending a hateful DM and refusing to be held accountable is just childish and immature. But I gave up soon after—because, honestly, I knew it wasn’t worth my effort or energy. And I knew that I wouldn't be able to change their mind.

But I still remember staring at that rather unfortunate meme, accompanied by an all-caps message demanding for me to Free Palestine, and thinking: the post didn’t even have any buzzwords. I remember the swoop of dread and guilt and fear. I remember wondering why this kind of antisemitism felt worse, in that moment, than the kind that leaves bodies in its wake.

I remember thinking, I don’t have the power to free anyone.

I remember thinking, I’m so fucking tired.

And before you tell me that this conflict isn’t about religion—let me ask you some questions. Why is it that Israel is even called Israel? (Here’s why.) Why do Jews even want it? (Here’s why.) But also, if you actually read the charters of Islamist terrorist organizations like ISIS, Hamas, and Hezbollah (among others), they equate the modern state of Israel with the Jewish people, and they use the two entities interchangeably. So of course this conflict is religious. It’s never been anything but that.

But I do wonder, when faced with those who deny this fact: how do I prove, through an endless slew of what-about-isms and victim blaming, that I too am hurting? How do I show that empathy is dialectical, that I can care deeply for Palestinians and Gazans while also grieving my own people?

There's this thing that humans do, when we’re frustrated about politics and need to howl our opinions about it into the void until we feel better. We find like-minded souls, usually our friends and neighbors, and fret about the state of the world to each other until we’ve gone around in a satisfactory amount of circles. But these conversations never truly accomplish anything. They’re just a substitute, a stand-in catharsis, for what we really wish we could do: find someone who embodies the spirit of every Jew-hating internet troll, every ignorant justifier of terrorism, and scream ourselves hoarse at them until we change their mind.

But, of course, minds cannot be changed when they are determined to live in a state of irrational dislike. In Judaism, this way of thinking has a name: שנאת חינם (sinat hinam), or baseless hatred. It's a parasite with no definite cure, and it makes people bend over backwards to justify things like the massacre on October seventh, simply because the blame always needs to be placed on the Jews.

So when a Jew is faced with this unsolvable problem, there is only one response to be had, only one feeling to be felt: anger. And we are angry. Carrying around rage with nowhere to put it is exhausting. It's like a weight at the base of our neck that pushes down on our spine, bending it until we will inevitably snap under the pressure. I’m still waiting to break, even now.

I wish I could explain to someone who needs to hear it that terrorism against Israelis happens every single day here, and that we are never more than one degree of separation away from the brutal slaughter of a friend, lover, parent, sibling. I wish it would be enough to say that the majority of Israelis (which includes Arab-Israeli citizens who have the exact same rights as Jewish-Israelis) wish for peace every day without ever having seen what it looks like.

I wish I could show the world that Israel was founded as a socialist state, that it was built on communal values and born from a cluster of kibbutzim (small farming communities based on collective responsibility), and that what it is now isn’t what its people stand for.

I wish the world could open their eyes to what we Israelis have seen since the beginning: that Hamas is the enemy, Hamas is the one starving Palestinians and denying them aid, Hamas is the one who keeps rejecting ceasefire terms and denying their citizens basic human rights. Hamas is the governing body of Gaza, not Israel. Hamas is responsible for the wellbeing of the Palestinian people. And Hamas are the ones who are more determined to murder Jews—over and over and over again, in the most animalistic ways possible—than to look inwards and see the suffering they’ve inflicted on their own people. I wish it was easier to see that.

But the wishing, the asking how can people be so blind, is never enough. I can never just say, I promise I don't want war.

When I bear witness to this baseless hatred, I think of the victims of October seventh. I think of the women and girls who were raped and then murdered, forever unable to tell their stories. I think of the hostages, trapped underneath Gaza in dark tunnels, wondering if anyone will come for them. I think of Ori Ansbacher, of Ezra Schwartz, of Eyal, Gilad, and Naftali, of Lucy, Rina, and Maia Dee, of the Paley boys, of Ari Fuld and of Nachshon Wachsman. I think of all the innocent blood spilled because of terror-fueled hatred and the virus of antisemitism. I think of all the thousands of people who were brutally murdered in Israel, Jews and Muslims and Christians and humans, who will never see peace.

My ties to this land are knotted a thousand times over. Even when I leave, a part of me is left behind, waiting for me to claim it when I return. But when I see the grit it takes to live through this pain, when I see the suffering that paints the world the color of blood, I look to the heavens and I wonder why.

I ask God: is it worth all this? He doesn't answer. So I am the one, in the end, to answer my own question. I say, it has to be.

Feel free to send any genuine, respectful, and clarifying questions you may have to my inbox!

EDIT: just coming on here to say that I'm really touched & grateful for the love on this post. When I wrote it, I felt hopeless; I logged off of Tumblr for Shabbat, dreading the moment I would turn off my phone to find more hate in my inbox. Granted, I did find some, and responding to it was exhausting, but it wasn’t all hate. I read every kind reblog and comment, and the love was so much louder. Thank you, thank you, thank you. 🤍

Source Reading

The Whispered in Gaza Project by The Center for Peace Communications

Why Jews Cannot Stop Shaking Right Now by Dara Horn

Hamas Kidnapped My Father for Refusing to Be Their Puppet by Ala Mohammed Mushtaha

I Hope Someone Somewhere Is Being Kind to My Boy by Rachel Goldberg

The Struggle for Black Freedom Has Nothing to Do with Israel by Coleman Hughes

Israel Can Defend Itself and Uphold Its Values by The New York Times Editorial Board

There Is a Jewish Hope for Palestinian Liberation. It Must Survive by Peter Beinart

The Long Wait of the Hostages’ Families by Ruth Margalit

“By Any Means Necessary”: Hamas, Iran, and the Left by Armin Navabi

When People Tell You Who They Are, Believe Them by Bari Weiss

Hunger in Gaza: Blame Hamas, Not Israel by Yvette Miller

Benjamin Netanyahu Is Israel’s Worst Prime Minister Ever by Anshel Pfeffer

What Palestinians Really Think of Hamas by Amaney A. Jamal and Michael Robbins

The Decolonization Narrative Is Dangerous and False by Simon Sebag Montefiore

Understanding Hamas’s Genocidal Ideology by Bruce Hoffman

The Wisdom of Hamas by Matti Friedman

How the UN Discriminates Against Israel by Dina Rovner

This Muslim Israeli Woman Is the Future of the Middle East by The Free Press

Why Are Feminists Silent on Rape and Murder? by Bari Weiss

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azure-cherie · 1 year ago

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𝐏𝐀𝐂 : 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅.𝐒.

Hello love's for this reading i channel a love letter from your future spouse , i really have a lack of fs readings and ik I don't do that enough but here's it because I feel so called to do this todayyy. Take what resonates and leave the rest , you can choose multiple . I hope you guys like this and feedbacks are always always appreciated !!!!!

Pile 1 :

Mon Amour ,

The sweet river of my life, the reason I live , the reason I thrive , I've been seeing you in my dreams since past lives and I can't fathom the beauty in your eyes . Ever since we've been together and the day i met you my life has been absolutely the one I dream of . Thank you for always being the shoulder I can learn on thank you i think i don't say it enough, you deserve the world and I'm trying everyday to bring in the world for you . I love the way you make art and love the way you make me your muse if I had the talent you had i probably would sing for you . I love your sweet kisses like candy and i hate every moment i argue so I'm happy to be sorry first kidding I know you're always right kinda bad on my part right , I wanna give you the world and there's so much to be done yet , so much to achieve , so much to heal but i know with you by my side i will heal. So i steal the thunder from heaven to make a souvenir of my love even when i am dead the way i tell you about my love won't be enough.

- yours completely

Pile 2 :

Dear love ,

In my darkest days you're the light I turn to , my heart is so full even when my brain is in shambles because I have you . I'm so in love that I can barely eat so I soak up your sunshine and I'm all fine and better under your holy light . We are a pair and we will make history and all these people that think we're too young too naive will be left in misery, they don't see you like i do, we both see each other . They say love is a big thing but I'd like laundry and taxes with you . Plain bread with you tastes like heaven , even tho I'm a heathen i pray the heavens for you may the paradise we make last forever, may i always keep jewellery in your altar , may things never be forbidden in our diary and in all of the things that are may I know one thing for sure that I don't wanna spend a moment away from you anymore . I burn for you I'm human for you .

- your lover

Pile 3 :

Hey Miss,

Springtime your time my time I look at you my beautiful flower fuller than poppies , more abundant than a lotus , like a burning rose with desire , you set me on fire , yet you cool me like running water how do you do , how do you put me in this state . I wanna love you don't you think it's getting late for even a while to wait , meet me at the garden gate . I don't know much but I know I came into earth to be with you i could be a tree but I'm a human to love you like humans do . How could you know me so well i almost lose myself when I'm with you and that's what I want when I'm with you to be free like a child . I wanna devote all my evenings to make coffee for you and i wanna spend all my breaths being high because I love you so much my thoughts spin out , you're moon herself you grant wishes so please grant mine goddess divine .

- always yours

Pile 4 :

Hey sweetheart,

I've been on a quest to find you , since I was young I've always felt that I was meant for more than just I saw what other couples around me had I knew I needed to be drowned and insane when i like someone , but the way you lift me up gave me all of it together , you're all the bright colours at once , yet you're a mystery , I love that i figure out something beautiful about you each day I know life with you can never be boring, it's always fun always worth living , thank you for holding me when the world discarded me , I know angels are real because i have seen you . Sorry for the times i mess things up , i never want that . we need to be together to explore this world without this bond this earth is mere ground with fire at the core , I wanna love you more . How do I explain this love where do I put all my love for you you're growing into me with each day I place your name in my heart like a sweet melody , i live to love you , I love to love you.

- only yours forever

Thank you so much for reading, have a great day/night ❤️

#god this felt so god #this was the pac i wrote fastest #pac readings #pac tarot #tarot pac #pac reading #pac #pick a card tarot #pick a picture #pick a photo #pick a card reading #pick a card #pick a pile #future spouse pick a card #future spouse reading #future spouse

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miraculouslbcnreactions · 7 months ago

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If you were to write Lila would you keep her being a con artist criminal with multiple identities but hinted at/revealed it earlier than S5 or would you cut that part down of her character entirely ?

It would really depend on how much space I had to fill. Gabriel is not the kind of villain that you can draw out forever. His story needs to have a clearly planned ending right from the start. In fact, I think they drew him out at least a season too long. So, if I also had to fill eight seasons, I could see myself going the Lila route. I'd just make a few changes. Off the top off my head, here's how I'd handle serious villain Lila as opposed to what canon wrote, which is petty school bully Lila who is entirely unbelievable as a serious villain.

First of all, Lila wouldn't be introduced at the end of season one. While her and Gabriel probably need to have some overlap, that's way too soon. In my version, she shows up at the start of season four and she'd be heavily toned down. We'd know that something was off about her, we may even keep the liar thing, but it would be a lot more subtle. Lies like, "Ladybug rescued me" and "I got to go backstage at a Jagged Stone concert" instead of "Ladybug is my bff" and "Jagged Stone wrote a song about me." Her goal would no longer be gaining peons, but instead gaining true close friends who like and trust her. The reason for this is that Lila is replacing Optigami as Mayura's last sentimonster.

See, season three ended with all those identity reveals and most of the revealed identities are in the same class. That's curious, so it makes perfect sense for Nathalie and Gabriel to want someone undercover in Adrien's class, but they can't do it. So Nathalie makes a sentikid of her own, gives her the power of manipulation, and sends her off to try to find Ladybug and/or Chat Noir by whatever means necessary.

This would give a clear reason for Gabriel to trust Lila, a clear reason for Lila to know all about the miraculous, and a clear reason for Lila to hate Ladybug. In this version, I wouldn't do Nathalie's lackluster redemption. Instead, Nathalie stays bad right up to her death. Perhaps her last act is getting the butterfly to her daughter and ordering her to get revenge on Ladybug and Chat Noir should Gabriel fail. After all, Gabriel can't wield more than six miraculous at once, so it makes sense for him to send Nathalie off with at least one of them while he enacts his master plan just in case it fails.

That's just one potential path to take. I also like the idea of having Lila be someone who came to Paris in order to find the miraculous, but who has no ties to the Agrestes. That would require some pretty big changes to her character, though, as I can't see that type of character caring about things like dating Adrien or being a model or all the other crap that has nothing to do with gaining a miraculous and everything to do with popularity and social clout. Lila canonically doesn't know that Gabriel even has a miraculous until the final of season four, so she basically just lucked into finding one instead of doing anything logical to find it because this show has no clue how to actually write smart, clever characters.

In summary, I'm totally fine with complex, master-manipulator Lila, it's just hard to figure out the best way to make her work when we don't know anything about her backstory or motivation. The version proposed above is just the best I can do to fit her into the role canon placed her in. A role I could easily see later seasons flat out ignoring.

#ml writing critical #ml writing salt #lila deserves better #With how many lies the heroes have to tell for safety reasons it's actually a decent idea to have an evil liar #Someone to give a clear contrast between good and bad lies #Plus liars are fun! I want Lila to be someone I love to hate.

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lis-likes-fics · 4 months ago

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Dramatic

Pairing: Spencer Reid x adhd!bau!Reader Word Count: 2.9k words Warnings: Social anxiety, character with ADHD, crying, emotional hurt/comfort... A/N: I embarrassed myself a little bit and that day will haunt me forever. Enjoy!

Spencer slows as he comes up on your desk. He furrows his brows and looks around, noting your absence with a confused look on his face. Closing his book in his hand, he shifts it under his arm and turns to Emily opposite your empty seat.

Before he can even finish his inhale, she's already speaking. “Last time I saw her, she had to go print something out.”

“When was that?”

Emily looks away from the bright light of her screen in favor of checking her watch. “About fifteen minutes ago?” She shrugs, “I assume she got caught up with something.”

She spins around in her chair in a rather dramatic manner, turning to face JJ in the desk behind her. “You seen my desk buddy anywhere?”

“Printer.” She doesn't even look up.

“That's what I said.”

JJ hums a little. “She probably just got distracted.” She looks over her shoulder at Spencer for the first time, though not for long. “I'd check the printer.”

With a spark of genius, Emily's brows lift as she turns back to her screen. “If she's not there, she could be with Garcia.”

JJ just points her finger over at Emily and hums, still lounging back in her chair as her focus glares at whatever she's filling out at her computer.

“Thanks, guys.” Spencer sets his book down on your desk, turning on his heel to find the printing room where you have supposedly been hanging out for the past fifteen minutes.

He doesn't know what would keep you that long. You're not social enough to have gotten caught up talking, and your distractions are so easy as to keep you from returning to your desk (especially not when Emily is there to keep you company).

Plus, you hate the printing room. The printers are practically always running, and there's this weird clacking noise from one of the machines that unnerves you every time you have the misfortune of having to listen to it.

As he expects, you're not there. There's one guy standing in front of one of the printers, beating his hand on the side to get it to work. Other than that, however, you're nowhere to be found and Spencer is starting to worry.

Realistically, he knows that he shouldn't. You're in a building surrounded by FBI agents, and you're smart enough to know exactly how to tip someone off if you're in trouble. You're so smart, you'd realize there was danger long before it actually hit (because you pay too much attention to little details and sometimes forget about the more obvious things in front of you). He's lucky enough that any UnSub striking the FBI is likely too intelligent not to be meticulous.

But anyway, it doesn't matter because you're not in danger, and maybe you're just with Penelope or using the bathroom or (not in the break room, he already checked) or even–

Shoot.

“Hi.”

Penelope’s door was open, so he let himself in with a gentle knock on the door. Derek is there. He's leaning against one of her desks as she works. They're talking about something Spencer suspects to be too suggestive for his interest.

“Oh!” Penelope turns around in her seat with so much enthusiasm. She almost seems amazed as she looks upon him. “Spencer Reid, coming to visit me. Hello! How are you, my little knick knack?”

Derek chuckles, gesturing for him to join the two with a charming smile.

“I'm good,” he says. He asks about you.

Penelope’s brows join together as she shakes her head. “Oh, I don't know,” she answers matter-of-factly. “I have not seen her. Why? Is she okay?” Her worry creates a crease at her brows that deepens with every second that her question is unanswered.

“You lost your girl, pretty boy?” Derek gently nudges Spencer's shoulder.

“Not lost, just…” he shrugs, “misplaced.”

He hums. “She hasn't come by, no. Last time I saw her was early in the break room with you.”

Spencer scratches the back of his neck. Sorting through his mind about all the places you could be. If you left the building, you would've told someone, so you're definitely still here. You don't have any meetings either, so he's genuinely confused as to where you could possibly be hiding.

“I was hoping I'd find her here.”

Penelope raises a suggestive hand. “Well, I can look on the cameras, if you want.” She wheels around in her chair. She's already tapping away on her keyboard with a loud clickity-clack. “I'm sure we can find her somewhere in here.”

“When did you last see her?” Derek asks.

“I saw her at her desk twenty one minutes and thirty-seven seconds ago, but Emily said she went to the printing room about fifteen minutes ago.”

Penelope mutters to herself as she types in her perimeters. “Okay. Printers, fifteen minutes. And…” She clicks her tongue. “There she is!”

Spencer feels a wave of relief at seeing you standing by one of the machines. You're popping your knuckles, staring dutifully at the printer like you're determined to grab them and go.

“Okay, waiting on papers. Let's fast forward a bit, and then…” Penelope’s as fast as the cameras as she watches you leave the room with your stack clutched to your chest. Your gaze is following your feet, which are taking you down the halls and in the wrong direction of your desk.

When you turn into a room, all of them are a little confused. Derek most of all. “My office?” He turns to Spencer with a furrowed brow. “What's she doin’ in my office?”

“Cameras don't show her leaving. She should still be in there right now.” Penelope adjusts her glasses on her nose, turning back around.

“That’s odd,” he mumbles. “Thank you, Garcia.”

Spencer's already locked into his task when he turns around without another word. Derek calls him, interrupting his alertness.

“Whatever you do,” he tilts his head like he's warning him, his eyes narrowed playfully as he smirks, “keep it PG in my office, okay?”

Spencer almost blushes at the notion. Penelope smacks him square in his chest, looking up like he's scolding Derek for his behavior. But he only raises his hands high in surrender. “Hey! Mama, I'm just jokin’,” he laughs, his face split into one of his charming smiles. “I'm playin’!”

Spencer purses his lips in that dorky way that you always say you love. He excuses himself in favor of finding you. The path to Derek's office is an easy and familiar path. He ends up opening the door not long after.

He doesn't see you.

Spencer's eyes sweep the office once more and find Derek's chair further away from his desk than it's meant to be—that is, if he pushed it in properly to begin with.

With a gentle sigh, he takes slow, quiet steps to round the large desk. He kneels when he gets to the other side, feeling the worry dissolve and take another shape all within the same second.

“Hey, sweetheart.” His voice is so soft, this quiet little whisper that doesn't stir you too much.

You have your arms wrapped around your knees, your face buried away within them. You don't move, and you don't seem to be crying, so at least that isn't an issue. Your voice is muffled by your arms.

“Hi.” You don't look up. “How’d you find me?” you mutter, still not moving from your position.

“Penelope.”

You sigh, finally lifting your head. “Penny.” He almost laughs at the way you say it, like you're accusing her of a crime.

“Can I join you?” he asks gently.

You nod without a word. Spencer moves to sit across from you. He's so long, it takes quite a bit of maneuvering to fit himself into the small space. He's slouched over like some real life origami. His legs have no choice but to reach all the way over into your space and box you in with him. You don't mind much.

He lets you both sit in silence for a while. You seem to really need it. He doesn't decide to speak until you finally look at his face, your eyes flitting across it like you're trying to find something.

“What's wrong?”

You shake your head, looking away again. It breaks his heart to watch the way you huddle into yourself. “It's stupid.”

“It's not stupid,” he protests kindly. He reaches a hand out to cradle the back of your leg. His hand is warm, it feels good even through the fabric of your slacks. “Not if it's making you feel like this.”

You don't respond. Spencer's mouth twitches to the side. He taps your leg lightly. “What happened?”

You sigh, taking a moment before you lift your head to see him again. There's a tiny crease in his brows. His eyes are narrowed just a bit. He's genuinely concerned, and it makes you feel bad because the reason you're upset is so…trivial.

“We deal with death every day, and most of the time, I come out of it okay,” you say under your breath, shaking your head at yourself, “but this is what gets me.”

“What's ‘this’?” he presses gently.

You lick your bottom lip and speak slowly. “I went to print some papers, and this lady walked up and waved at me, so I waved back at her and…”

He thinks he knows where this is going. “Yeah?”

There’s an element of self-depreciation when you respond, and your words from earlier echo sadly in his head at the thought that you might be hearing it, too—it’s stupid. “Well, it turns out, she’s not even waving at me. She’s waving to this other lady standing next to me.” You shake your head, looking down as if to remember something. “And she kinda, like…gave me this look.”

“Was it a mean one?” He hopes not. He loves you too much for someone to be giving you mean looks. He wants you to feel safe and happy, and you don’t.

You shake your head. “No, she looked…maybe a little confused or even, like…apologetic, but it was a look.” He watches you bury your head again, hiding away in your embarrassment. “I should not be hiding because of a look.”

Spencer sets a reassuring hand on your knee. “You don’t have to feel embarrassed about something like that.”

When you lift your head again, he can see tears you’d tried so hard to keep back shining in your eyes. His heartstrings tug behind his ribcage. He thinks you’re gonna kill him one day. “I know!” you sniffle, refusing to let any of your tears spill. “I know, but I do, and it’s ridiculous.”

“But…” he says, like he isn’t finished, “it’s also perfectly okay to be embarrassed about something like that.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes and looking to the side again. “Please.” A tear spills over, and you catch it quickly. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth and bite down hard. He’s worried you’ll draw blood. “I overreact or underreact to literally everything. When are my feelings ever reasonable?”

He would scoot closer if his body structure allowed it, but, alas, he is too long. “All the time. They never stop being reasonable,” he reassures. He sighs gently, wanting so badly to make sure you know how much he adores you. “Can I hold your hand?”

You look back at him, swallowing thickly as you slowly raise your hand for him to take. It means a lot, actually, that he wants to hold your hand. Too many germs. Your chest feels warm with your adoration of him. He gives you a smile, and you almost hide for a different reason.

Holding his eye contact is so hard sometimes. He has such pretty eyes, it’s a shame how hard it is to look at them when you get like this. You want to kiss him, to let him know.

Instead, you just squeeze his hand. “She probably already forgot it happened.” You chew on your bottom lip. “And I’ve been hiding under Derek’s desk for the past, like, ten minutes because I can’t forget about it.”

Spencer doesn’t want to tell you that it’s been twelve minutes and sixteen seconds. You hide your face once again more, dramatically this time. “This will haunt me forever.”

His lip quirks but he tries not to smile too much. “Hey.”

“I know. It’s childish.”

“That isn’t what I was going to say,” he smiles. He ducks his head in the hopes of catching your eyes, but he waits for you to look up first. “You know what I’m going to say?”

You do look at him. He’s so sweet, now you can’t look away. “What?”

He leans forward, feeling his back spine stretching as he does. His large hand sets against your cheek, and you lean into the warmth. He gives you a smile that you call charming, though he probably wouldn’t agree. “I love you.”

You can’t help it. The way he makes you feel is reminiscent of a teenager who just shared eye contact with her crush. He wipes your cheek gently with the pad of his thumb, clearing away any water left behind by the few tears that had escaped your clutches. “Stop,” you giggle, turning away.

He guides your face back. His grin is this huge, mushy thing on his face that squints his eyes until his lashes kiss. “Never,” he mutters affectionately. He loves to see you smile. “I love you. Especially when you care a little too much about an accidental wave.”

You catch him in his words, raising your brows accusingly. He’s helping your anxiety tremendously, and you probably won’t realize it until you’ve fully recovered. “So you agree that this is stupid?”

He laughs, shaking his head quickly. His voice, not as soft anymore, is filled to the brim with his happiness “That’s not what I said. I’m saying that I love you because you’re so amazing, and I want you to know it.” He traces the underside of your eyelashes, reluctantly slipping his hand off your cheek. “No matter how many times you wave at someone who isn’t actually waving at you.”

You’re still giggly. “Spencer.” You shift your legs, not without difficulty, to sit in a criss-cross position. Spencer mimics you (with even more difficulty than you). He has to bend down a little so he’ll fit.

“It’s the truth.”

“Well…” you try to dull your giggles to a simmering bubbly feeling in your chest, “I love you, too. Even when I think you’re crazy for loving me…” You think about that for a moment. “Especially when I think you’re crazy for loving me.”

Spencer holds your cheek again and pulls you in for a kiss. You savor this one, your noses brushing affectionately as you do. Spencer doesn’t kiss you at work.

“Will you come back to your desk with me?” he whispers, his lips brushing yours.

You nod gently. “Yeah.”

Spencer smiles, pecking your cheek. He lets go of you to untuck himself from under the desk. He has to stretch his body out before he offers his hand for you. You take it, hoisting yourself up to stand next to him. “Those are mine.” You gesture toward the papers on Derek’s desk as you brush off your pants.

He doesn’t wait for you, he just scoops them into his hands. “I’ve got them.”

“Thanks,” you grin. He sneaks one more kiss, this one to your temple.

You look up at him and hold your arms open, a quiet request. Spencer’s happy to answer your request, wrapping his arms around you in a hug that pulls you closer to him than you feel like you’ve ever been. He takes in a deep breath, closing his eyes and sighing longingly.

When you pull away, you walk with him. His hand hangs down by his side, and you glance at it as you brush your pinky with his. He smiles, but he doesn’t look over at you.

It’s been hardly ten seconds since you left the office, and your phone is ringing. You furrow your brow, fishing it from your pocket and glancing down at the screen. You sigh gently, silently appreciating her because she means so much.

You put her on speaker. “Penny?”

“Are you okay, sweet girl?” she asks immediately, her voice full of worry. You glance at Spencer, who still doesn’t turn to you. He’s smiling, though, so you know that he knows you’re watching him.

“Yes, I’m okay.”

“You’re sure?” she asks. “I can go to you. I’ll bring the squishy that you like!”

Your voice fades into a laugh. “I’m okay, Pen, really.”

“Did my desk help?”

The way Derek’s voice sounds when he speaks up makes you flush a little. You keep your voice level, still looking up to stare at Spencer. You trust him not to let you run into anything as he suppresses his smile with the thin line of his lips. “Yes, Morgan, it was very nice.” You raise a brow. “Am I going to hear Prentiss next?”

He laughs. “Just li’l ole me.”

“And me. I’m still here.” Penelope makes you laugh.

“Goodbye, both of you.”

“Bye, honey bun.” “Bye!” You hang up on them.

Spencer’s warmth seeps into your side. You resist the urge to lay your head on his shoulder because you’re supposed to be professional at work. Instead, you sigh and let your pinkies brush. “I love our friends.”

Spencer smiles. “Me, too.”

Criminal Minds taglist: @queermaxwooo @mdanon027 @lilianhallee @hpstuff244444 @thegr8estpuff @niktwazny303 @bubbles2300 @hiireadstuff @chloelmao67 @feyresqueen @hbwrelic @princess76179 @hc-geralt-23 Dr. Reid taglist: @swwanlake Tag yourself here...

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid hurt/comfort #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #reader insert #female reader #hurt/comfort

278 notes · View notes

love-belle · 1 year ago

Text

you're the best in my life and i lost you !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which they truly are the best in each other's lives but they lost them.

for when you finally get to know that maybe it is unrequited. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // charles leclerc x fem!reader

prequel - i'd never walk cornelia street sign ⋆·˚ ༘ *

warnings - language

author's note - finally here!!!!! i REALLLLLLY hope u like it !!! i have so much planned for this week and i hope i can show u all of it soon !!! thank u so much for reading i love you <3

tagged - @willowpains @lexxlouuu @topaz125 @leclercloml @sophiaasf @slut4peterparker @crlsummer @ananyasr1bughead @official-chicken-little @jspitwall @lovely-blackinnon

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by lewishamilton, carmenmmundt, lilymhe and 3,927,588 others

yourusername my sophomore album "good riddance" is finally here and i'm soooo excited for u all to hear little pieces of my heart sewn together. every single syllable is what i feel and what i have been feeling. we all have that one person that we absolutely refuse to talk about so just like that, i ended up writing a whole album instead. thank you sooo much for supporting me, i love you all forever. and to the inspiration behind this, thank you. you were good to me. you're the best i've ever had.

19,628 comments

username SCREECHING WHAT THE FUCK

username oh my god

username now im half of myself here without you?????? you're the best in my life and i lost you????? and we had no control when it fell through???? it was one sided hate how i hurt you?????

-> username WHERE DO WE GO NOW

username i 😭 know 😭 i 😭 know 😭 better 😭 you're 😭 no 😭 guarantee 😭

username I ALMOST LOST IT I'LL HEAL EVENTUALLY BUT FASTER WHEN UR NEXT TO ME NEXT TO ME

-> username IM CODEPENDENT BUT TRYING HARD NOT TO BE IM BETTER WHEN UR NEXT TO ME

username why the FUCK aren't people talking about the blue and how it's literally her and charles???

-> username "you came out of the blue like that i never could've seen you coming i think you're everything i wanted" NAHHH FRRRRR

username there was absolutely NO NEED to break my heart like this

username charles is probably tearing up rn likeeee

-> username bro's hiding in a corner bc i KNOW lily is out for blood today

danielricciardo cool album

-> yourusername thank u i wrote it myself!!!!!!

-> username as if daniel's stories aren't js him crying and singing along the whole album 😭😭😭

username "i know it won't work" had NO business ruining me like that when i know damn well i haven't even held hands with someone

username THE VOICE MESSAGE IN THE INTERLUDE OMGKMGKMGKGSJJAJS

-> username i bet you my first born that it's CHARLES

-> username lost it when it was cut from charles' message (yes it was charles and yes it broke my heart) to y/n's like THERE WAS NO NEED TO HURT ME LIKE THAT

username i wish for pain and im glad we only live once bc this woman WILL find more creative ways to hurt us with her amazing songwriting and vocal skills

lilymhe LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVEEEEE

-> yourusername I LOVE YOUUUUU

lilymhe SO SO SO GOOD AHHHSJSJSJS

-> yourusername STOP TYSM IM GONNA CRY

lilymhe the only album to ever exist btw

-> yourusername ur the 1 for me ❤️

username still not over two people like what do u MEAN "hate how we touched just to push things aside. when u take me for granted i make it alright"

username she's never attaining peace for releasing this and ruining my nights

username OH I KNOW SPIRALLING IS MISERABLE I SHOULD PROBABLY GO BACK HOME WHY DOES THAT FEEL DIFFICULT DIFFICULT

carmenmmundt still crying

-> yourusername same 😭😭😭

carmenmmundt george wants to comment but he can't see through his tears

-> yourusername PLEASE OMG

username "and to the inspiration behind this, thank you. you were good to me. you're the best i've ever had." DO U WANT ME TO CRY

username charles i am in ur walls

username i will never understand how she wrote "it's nice to have a friend" for charles and now she wrote "two people" like how did THAT transition happen

-> username the worst transition ever btw

landonorris thid is si good anf im cryjng so harf whay thr fucj

-> yourusername lando deep breaths

-> landonorris DINT TELL MR TI TAKR DEEP BRESTGS I SWRAR

-> yourusername wow

-> username i identify so much with lando it's INSANE

username somewhere in monaco pascale leclerc is listening to this album and it's a good day ❤️

-> username bet u literally my bank account the entire leclerc household is BLASTING this

carla.brocker words cannot explain how proud i am 🩷🩷🩷 i love you so much big sis

-> yourusername carlaaaaa 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼 u own my heart i LOVEEEE you

-> username this made me tear up whatcthebfuck

username no bc i KNOW charles heard "will u cry" and CRIED like that man is not strong enough to bear that

-> username no bc "u don't move me???? i see through u????? i don't follow???? i don't want to?????"

-> username that man is in SHAMBLES about this rn

username GOOD RIDDANCE TOUR WHEN

username this will be my personality for years to come

lorenzotl proud of you y/n/n 🤍

-> yourusername i love u charlotte's bf thank u

username cannot breathe bc "it's almost like you like to let me down" and "i hate the fact that i miss u around"

≡;- ꒰ °twitter꒱

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by yourusername, landonorris, danielricciardo and 2,672,882 others

charles_leclerc so proud of you. seeing you live your dream is the best feeling ever and i hope you get to see the world just like we talked about. things aren't the same but my support for you will always be unwavering. this is what you were made for and i couldn't be more happy 🤍

tagged yourusername

16,628 comments

username what the actual fuck

username WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK

username stfu this isn't DONE like u CAN'T do this

username "things aren't the same but my support for you will always be unwavering" WHAT IF I CRY

username so u mean to tell me that he went to her show after MONTHS even when they're not together just to support her???? bc he wants her to see the world even if things aren't the same????? what the fuck

username i did NOT need this at 7am in the morning come back later

username babe wake up new y/ncharles lore js dropped

danielricciardo amazing show!! aren't you glad i dragged you there?

-> charles_leclerc i literally booked the tickets myself what are you on about?

-> danielricciardo let me have this one mate

username last night was UNREAL bc wdym y/n's ex fiancé was there and wdym she sang full machine and the blue for him and wdym he came on stage and spoke so fondly about her and WDYM MAX VERSTAPPEN AND LANDO NORRIS THREW WATER AT THE AUDIENCE JS FOR THE HELL OF IT

username this is my roman empire

username i know he was dying inside like

username imagine fumbling a bad bitch like y/n couldn't be me LMFAOOOO

username y'all brutal in the comments let my man grovel in peace

landonorris nice caption. now say i love you.

-> charles_leclerc i love you lando

-> landonorris not to ME to HER (i love you too 😘😘😘🥰🥰🥰😍😍😍)

-> charles_leclerc oh (no)

username SCREAMING DANIEL SNATCHING Y/N'S MIC FROM HER AND SINGING HIS FAV SONG FROM THE ALBUM

-> username THEY'RE SO UNSERIOUS 😭😭😭

username this caption will haunt me in my dreams

username is it js me or did her voice crack when she said "now i know it's unrequited"

-> username NO BC I FR THOUGHT THAT IT WAS JS ME

-> username she genuinely looked on the verge of tears throughout "405" like

-> username imagine being y/n and singing the most heartbreaking song ever about ur ex IN FRONT OF UR EX

username no bc this feels like a confirmation that they'll never be together guys why does this feel so final i want my parents back.

username SCREAMING WHATHEBRCUKXKSKA

carlossainz55 surreal night. loved seeing you lose your cool every time she was nearing your side of the stage

-> charles_leclerc just because we can speak doesn't mean we should

username the camera switching from y/n to charles when she sang "i know it won't work" was so me like the camera person is messy js like me fr

username genuinely in ruins on my bedroom floor rn y/ncharles nation we LOST

username no bc i CANNOT enter their friendship era ever again after seeing what i have seen for the past few years

-> username fr like people don't GET IT!!!! they were supposed to get MARRIED

username forever crying bc of them 💔💔💔

yourusername forever grateful for u!!!! thank u so much 🫶🏼

*liked by charles_leclerc*

yourusername u deserve the world

*liked by charles_leclerc*

username charles replying to everyone but y/n on the post HE made for HER makes me so idk like it's weird

username no bc why do i have the feeling that y/n and charles are NOT good and this is js something done for "damage control" or wtv

username im.

#f1 x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 imagines #social media au #fake instagram imagines #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc instagram au

1K notes · View notes

lanadelnegan · 1 year ago

Note

Hi I’m kinda shy about this one. So the reader has been traveling with dead city cowboy Negan for awhile and she’s liked him for a long time but she’s a virgin and she wants him to take it.

Don't be shy bb, I am a slutttt for dead city Negan. Basically, think of this as if you were in Ginny's shoes, but you're 18.

Our Little Cabin

Dead City!Negan x Reader

Warnings: smut, 18+, NSFW, virgin reader, vaginal sex, fingering, family death (reader's mom), reader seduces the hell out of negan, extreme age-gap (reader is 18, negan is 50ish), masturbating (both), masturbating in front of Negan while he refuses to touch you, daddy-kink, breeding kink, cuddling, pure filth

A/n: If you like slow burn, sexual tension and a "hard to get" daddy Negan, this one is for you. I promise one day I'll finally write a fic without daddy-kink, but today is not that day.

"Can we go home now, Negan? My legs hurt." I complain, dragging my feet lazily through the leaves.

He stops and sighs, resting his hands on his hips. I stop too and stare at him. That damn cowboy hat.. I swear he wears it just to tease me.. and it's working.

"Yeah, doll. Sun'll be going down soon anyway."

"Ugh thank god." My head falls back dramatically and he chuckles as we start our way back.

Negan took me under his wing a few months ago when some assholes attacked Oceanside, killing my family and everyone I know. I was lucky - if you wanna call it that - enough to escape. I ran into Negan in the woods and it's just been me and him ever since. I'm thankful for him, considering I never had a dad or father figure growing up. My mom was my best friend.. and now she's gone. But at least I have him.

I've grown attached to Negan over the recent months.. But something feels.. different lately. I'm not sure what suddenly changed over the last few weeks, but I've caught myself imagining things about him that I shouldn't. Even touching myself to the thought of him. I feel so guilty afterwards, but I can't stop. I've never been with anyone.. never kissed anyone.. never touched anyone. And my body is screaming at me for it. I can't even look at him anymore without imagining what he looks like under his clothes.

"Why're you so quiet, kid?" He glances at me as we walk.

Ugh, I hate it when he calls me kid.

I shrug. "Just thinkin'."

"About?"

"Doesn't matter." And I've convinced myself it doesn't. I'll never be with someone romantically, because for one.. it's the apocalypse. It's not like I have a school full of hot boys lined up ready to ask me to prom. Not that I'd give them a chance anyway. I'd probably be more into the teachers. And second, the man I want would never think of me that way.

"That's not true."

"You don't even know what I'm thinking, so how can you say that?"

"Anything you think about - worry about - matters to me, y/n. So, spill."

We finally make it back to our little cabin. We've been staying in it for awhile, stocking it with food and supplies. No one has found us yet.. It's kinda nice. But I won't get used to it. Because nothing good lasts forever.

I throw myself on the couch dramatically, as if our walk that we've done a hundred times now could've killed me.

"I don't know... I just, I feel like most kids - people - my age have already experienced more in life that I have."

"Like?"

"Sex." I blurt before I can stop myself. I look to Negan to see his reaction, but he's surprisingly not that alarmed. His eyebrows are raised as he studies me, probably more shocked that I actually had the balls to say that in front of him.

"Listen, I don't really feel comfortable doing the whole birds and bees talk with you."

My cheeks turn pink with embarrassment and I nod disappointedly.

"Sorry, it's just.. I - no one's really talked to me about it before. My mom said she would when I was ready.. but then she.. she.." I fight back the tears. I hate crying. You can't come across weak in the times we live in and I've been forced to be strong my entire life.

He looks at me finally and sighs, holding his arm out for me to come snuggle next to him. It's not the first time he's held me as I've cried over my mom. Won't be the last.

I bury my head in his chest, sniffling, as his hand rubs my back.

"Alright, kid. What do you wanna know?" He gives in, feeling sorry for me.

"Well, I know how it works, but I guess I just wanna know what it feels like." I feel him tense underneath me as he adjusts himself awkwardly.

"No boyfriends at Oceanside?"

"There were boys.. but none that I was interested in."

"You'll find someone when the time is right. You're still young."

"Well you don't have anyone, and you're.. not young."

"Jeez, kid. Thanks." He chuckles. "I did have someone. A few someone's actually. Lost them all to this cruel world." He admits and my heart hurts for him.

"Well, you have me now." I get more comfortable, laying my head in his lap and looking up at him. He shifts uncomfortably but eventually relaxes and even strokes my hair lightly.

"Yeah, I do. And nothing is going to happen to you. You're safe with me, doll." Butterflies swirl around in stomach, but I know he doesn't mean that in the way I wish he did. He sees me as a kid.. hell, as his kid. For a moment my heart sinks from jealously at the "someones" he mentioned. Lucky bitches.

"...Negan.. does it.. feel good?" I blush a little.

"Sex? .....Yeah, doll. It fucking feels good."

"Will you.. show me?" I stare up at him innocently and his hand abruptly stops stroking my hair.

He bends over, planting a kiss on my forehead. "Time for bed, darlin'." He pushes me gently up and off his lap before standing and heading to his room. The cabin is small but we each have our own rooms. His is the smaller one, right across from mine. He wanted me to have the bigger one.

I sit on the couch, feeling defeated and stupid. What was I thinking. I relax on the couch for a little longer, choosing to read a book to take my mind off what just happened. After an hour of barely keeping my eyes open, I close the book and head down the hall towards my room. I stop in front of Negan's door, peaking through the crack. He always leaves his door a few inches open just so he can hear if anything happens. My eyes widen when I notice the sheets are barely covering the lower half of his legs, revealing the rest of his body. His tan torso is exposed, showing his peppery chest hair, and his black boxers are low on his waist. I restrain myself from not jumping him right then.

I eventually make my way back to my room and change out of my clothes, throwing on some shorts and a tank top to sleep in. I can't get the image of Negan's body out of my head and find my hand slowly making its way towards my aching center once I'm finally in bed. I close my eyes, imaging Negan between my legs as I touch myself. I don't bother suppressing my moans, confident that Negan is fully asleep. "Mmm, Negan!" The sound of his name rolling off my tongue as I'm pleasuring myself brings me closer to the edge.

"Oh, Negan. Right there!" My door suddenly swings open and I snap my eyes open to see a worried Negan standing in my doorway.. still in his boxers. My hand flies out of my shorts and I throw the sheets over me.

"Oh my god, can you knock?!"

"I - you yelled for me." He says flustered. I notice the way his face reddens when he realizes what I was doing.

I gently pull the covers off me again and spread my legs a little.

"What are you doing, y/n?" He stands in front of me at the doorway, refusing to look at anything other than my eyes. That's okay.. I bet I can make him look at me down there. I like the challenge.

"What's it look like?" My bite the tip of my finger seductively at him before sliding my shorts to the side, completely revealing my pussy to him.

He glances down with a serious look across his face, like he can't believe I'm doing this. And neither can I. This is so unlike me, but I'm so desperate for him I don't even know how to control myself anymore.

The fact that he's still watching encourages me to continue. I use one hand to pull my shorts to the side and the other to slowly slide a finger through my wet slit. "I just wanna know what it feels like, daddy."

I study him closely, noticing the way his jaw ticks at the nickname. My eyes travel lower and I see his bulge through his boxers. It looks so big, but I'd be determined to make it fit no matter what.

My finger dips inside of me and I arch my back a little and moan, putting on a show for him. He stands with his back against the wall, refusing to move.

I start rubbing my clit slowly and get frustrated when he still isn't reacting. "Negan, please touch me."

He rubs a hand down his face with frustration. "Goddamn it, y/n."

"I just.. I need you. Please." I cringe at my desperate attempt to have him touch me. I need this man so bad it's embarrassing.

"I can't, baby."

"But you like watching me, don't you?"

I take it as a yes when he doesn't say anything and that's all I need before pushing myself over the edge. "Negan!" I cry out as my orgasm rushes through me. Even in the dark, I can see the lust burning through his eyes.

"Go to bed, y/n." He demands but I'm unable to read his tone. Is he mad, proud, annoyed?

I fall asleep at the thought of him giving in and touching me. Maybe if I think hard enough, I'll manifest it.. I heard that shit really works.

Negan's POV:

That girl is gonna be the fucking death of me.

She's been so flirty with me lately and I've been trying to ignore it. But fuck if she's not making it hard. Literally.. I'm hard as a fucking rock right now.

I refuse to touch my dick while thinking about her. She's thirty-fucking-three years younger than me for fuck's sake.

She's confused. She doesn't want me, and she damn sure isn't getting me. Apocalypse or not, it's still fucking wrong.

I drag a hand down my face and sigh. I shouldn't have watched her, but I couldn't look away. She flashed her fucking pussy right in my face and I just stood there.. watching her. Fuck me.

My dick is throbbing and I know I won't be able to sleep until I get some relief. "Fuck it."

I pull myself out of my boxers and immediately start stroking my dick. I think about anything but.. her. Fuck.. y/n. That pretty little wet pussy dripping right in front of me. The way she said my name when she came.

"Ahh, fuuuck. Y/n, fuck." I cum hard and fast and immediately regret it afterwards. Fuck is wrong with me.

I can't - and I won't let myself think about her like that again.

Y/n's POV:

I wake up before Negan and decide to read my book some more in the living room. It's a romance novel that I found one day in an abandoned car. I've read it four times already, but it seems to be the only romance I'll ever get in life, so why the fuck not.

"Morning, sunshine." Negan says sleepily as he walks towards the kitchen next to the living room. He grabs a handful of berries we picked yesterday and tosses them in his mouth before making me a cup full and putting them down next to me.

"Morning. Thanks." I say without looking at him.

He sits on the couch next to me. "You wanna talk about last night?"

My cheeks redden. "Nope."

"Okay, then I will." Great, here comes the lecture. "Y/n, I shouldn't have watched you. We both know that. But, I think you're just confused. It's just been the two of us for months now and you're all young and.. fucking horny and shit. But, us? It can't happen."

I stay silent, pretending to read my book.

"Seriously? The silent treatment? You sure did have a lot to say last night."

I remain stubbornly quiet, popping a handful of berries in my mouth.

"Y/n, I don't understand why you're upset right now. Talk to me."

"I'm not upset." I snap. "I'm embarrassed.. humiliated. I was stupid to think you'd ever be into me."

He sighs and I see his head drop out of the corner of my eye. "Darlin', if I was your age, I'd be all fucking over you. Trust me. Please don't be embarrassed, okay? You are hot as shit and any man your age would be lucky to have you. We can forget it happened if that's what you want." He holds his arm out again, and like always, I snuggle into him.

"I don't want to forget." My hand rests against his white t-shirt and I want so badly to slide underneath it and run my fingers through is tummy hair.

A moment of silence goes by before he finally whispers. "Me neither, doll."

I look up at him, my face dangerously close to his. "I love you, Negan."

His hand reaches up to caress my face as if he's scared to hurt me. "I love you too, baby... Just not like that."

He wipes the tear that falls from my cheek and my heart shatters in my chest.

One month later...

My feelings for Negan haven't faded; I'm just better at not showing them. We've been more touchier than usual... cuddling on the couch, holding hands when we walk, but nothing "inappropriate." We also haven't mentioned that night. It's like it never happened, which still hurts when I think about it.

I get done bathing myself off after dinner and slip into my usual sleepwear before crashing to the bed and pulling my book from the nightstand. I could quote every line in it by now.

I start to drift off right before a loud boom hits right outside my window, following a bright flash of lightning. I try to fall asleep, but every time I doze off, another loud boom jolts me awake. I toss and turn for an hour before deciding to do something I know I shouldn't.

I crack Negan's door open slowly, trying not to wake him and gently slip into bed next to him. I also may or may not have taken my sleep shorts off, leaving me in just my pink panties and black tank top. I ease underneath the covers and lay facing him. He's usually a light sleeper, so between the thunder and me sneaking into his bed, I'm surprised he's not awake.

I'm completely still for a good ten minutes, making sure he's still sound asleep before I make any movements. When he lets out a little snore, I slowly slide the blanket down off of him. I imagine myself reaching over and running my fingers through his thick chest hair. I keep sliding the covers down further and further, careful not to wake him, until I get to just below the waistband of his boxers. My eyes trail from the deep v in his abdomen to the black hairs peaking above his underwear and I let myself imagine what it would be like to touch him right now.. to slide my hand down his boxers and feel him. I've wondered how big he is for so long.. trying to steal glimpses of him through his pants when he walks, or catch him with the covers down while he's sleeping.

I decide to pull the covers slightly further down and my mouth gapes open at the sight. He's hard.. so hard that I can see the outline of him through his boxers as it threatens to poke through his underwear. My mouth waters at his size and I know if he ever put it in me, it would definitely hurt like hell.

After I've stared at it long enough to feel like a total creep, my eyes travel back up his body and I almost yelp when I see his head is slightly turned and his eyes are watching me curiously, as if he's been waiting for me to make a move.

"I - uh.. The thunder.. I got scared." I explain.

"Nice try, kid. Go back to bed."

"Negan, please. Just let me sleep here. Nothing weird, I just.. don't wanna be alone."

He sighs and that alone tells me he's going to let me. I hide my excitement as I turn over, facing away from him and snuggling into the covers. They smell like him.. musk and leather.. and the scent makes me practically feral. He's still on his back, but my ass is barely touching his side. It's hardly anything, and it's not like we haven't cuddled before, but the thought of my ass so close to him sets my insides on fire.

Another lightning strike hits outside his window this time and I flinch a little, not purposely meaning for my ass to press into him even more. He doesn't react and I wonder if he's already asleep.

"Negan...?" I say softly.

"Hm?"

"Will you hold me?"

"Y/n, you are seriously pushing it. Go to sleep."

a few minutes go by before another boom echoes in the distance and I jump a little again.

He sighs heavily and turns over, draping his arm over my waist and pressing his body firmly against mine. His dick is pressed against my ass, but it's not as hard anymore... and that hurts a little.

"Go to fucking sleep."

I hold his hand tightly against my lower stomach and embrace this moment with him. I want him so bad that I can literally feel my vagina throbbing. If it could speak, it would be meowing like a cat in heat right now. I close my eyes and imagine him sliding in me from behind. I get a little too lost in the thought and accidentally arch a little, grinding my ass further into him. I feel him grow to full length against me and the feeling is enough for me to squeeze my legs together, desperate for some pressure down there.

"Where the fuck are your shorts?" He says in a deep and sleepy voice.

I giggle as he breathes heavily into my neck before whispering again.

"What the hell am I gonna do with you, baby?"

"Touch me?"

"I'm already touching you, y/n. My fucking dick is basically between your ass cheeks."

"Not yet.. my panties are in the way." I slip my panties off my legs smoothly and discard them on the floor.

"Y/n." He warns but before he can tell me no, I'm bare from the waist down and pressing my ass back against him.

"Trying to give this old man a heart attack?" He chuckles deeply.

"I can try harder than that if you want me to." I tease.

"Fuck, baby. Go to sleep before I do something we'll both regret."

"Like what?"

"...Like pound that pussy so fucking good you'll never think about another man's cock but mine."

"If you love me, wouldn't you want to be the one to give that to me for the first time? Wouldn't you rather it be you than some asshole who doesn't care about me."

He doesn't answer, so I keep pressing him. I place my hand back on top of his resting against my stomach and slowly slide it lower towards my aching center.

"Don't start something you can't finish, darlin'."

"Oh, I'm very determined to finish." I spread my legs apart slightly to guide his hand over my wet center. His middle finger easily slides between my slippery folds and we both moan at the feeling.

"Goddamn. Fucking dripping for daddy. He growls in my ear before leaning up a little and pressing his lips to my neck from behind. I move my hand from his, letting him take control - finally.

His finger moves back and forth between my wet slit, gliding over my clit every few seconds and making me moan each time. His other hand slips under me and up to my neck, gently squeezing my throat.

"This what you wanted, baby?" He breathes in my ear and chills spread over every inch of my skin.

I nod quickly as I feel my orgasm build from just his light touch. He hasn't even put a finger in me and I'm already on the verge of tears.

As soon as his finger rubs tiny circles over my clit, I lose it.. moaning out for him.

"Thaaat's it, cum for daddy, babygirl."

"Negan!" I scream out as his hand goes from my neck to my mouth, muffling the sound.

"Don't need the dead hearing us, doll."

He kisses my neck once I've soaked his fingers and then brings them to his mouth.

"Mmm, fuck, this pussy tastes so good I might have to eat it everyday."

I turn around in his arms to face him. My hand goes up to hold his face and my fingers play with his gray hair. He kisses my forehead before meeting my gaze.

"This is so wrong, baby." He strokes my cheek gently.

"Can't be wrong if it feels this good."

He tilts my chin up to press his lips against mine. It's so much better than I ever imagined. He knows exactly what he's doing, and even though I've never kissed anyone, he takes the lead and I'm thankful for it. I moan into his mouth when he deepens the kiss, his hand gripping the back of my neck now. The feeling of is tongue in my mouth makes me clench my legs again, and I think he notices because his hand on my neck travels lower until it reaches the back of my thigh. He lifts my leg over his and his hand slides to my ass, squeezing lightly before his long fingers tease my entrance from behind.

His dick is pressed into me painfully and I can't wait any longer. I need to touch him. Feel him inside me.

I reach my hand inside his boxers and pull out his big, hard cock. I try looking at it under the covers between us.

"You've never seen a dick before, doll?"

I shake my head no and admire him. It's so perfect.

He closes his eyes as I stroke it. "Fuck. So innocent, baby."

He kisses my neck while I pull on him even more. "You sure you want this, baby?"

I nod. "Yes, please. I've been wanting this for so long, Negan."

He lines himself up at my opening, my leg still draped over his so that he's in between my legs.

"Once we do this, you're mine darlin'."

"I'm already yours."

That's all he needs to hear to finally push the tip past my opening. I've never had anything inside of me other than a finger, and the feeling of his thick head pushing through me and stretching my walls has my mouth falling open.

"Tell me to stop, baby."

"No, keep going. Please." I beg.

He slides deeper and deeper until he's buried inside me completely. He stays still, letting me adjust. and kisses me through the pain. A pain that feels so good. I kiss him back hard, scratching his back while grinding my waist pathetically against him repeatedly. I moan in his ear and give him the go ahead to start moving. He fucks me deep and slow at first, letting me get used to him.

"So fucking tight baby."

He growls in my ear and vibration of his deep voice sends chills through me again until my pussy flutters around him.

"Holy fuck, doll. Do that again."

I squeeze my cunt around him again and he lets out the hottest moan I've ever heard. Not that I've heard a man moan before, but I just know that his are the hottest.

"I won't last if you keep doing that, baby." He warns and the thought of him shooting his load inside me has my head spinning.

After a few more thrusts that have my eyes rolling to the back of my head, I feel myself reaching my orgasm again and hold him against me so I can grind against him and ride it out.

"Negan, Negan, oh my god.” I breathe out as I push myself so hard against him that my clit rubs against his pubic bone creating the friction I need to send me over the edge.

"Goddamn." He thrusts into me faster and harder. "Gonna make me fucking cum already, baby." He tries to pull out but you tighten your leg around him so he can't pull away.

"Cum in me, Negan. Please." I cry desperately. "I love you. I want all of you."

He kisses me hard before his hips come to a halt. He practically yells out when he shoots his load deep inside me. "Ah, fuck! Babyyy."

The sound of Negan cumming is even hotter than his moaning from earlier - I didn't think it could get any better but holy shit. We're both a tangled, sweaty mess while our hearts beat out of our chest.

We eventually fall asleep with our lips still touching and his softening dick still inside me.

I don't even worry about the possibility of what could happen in the future.. I know I'm safe with Negan.. Here in our little cabin. He gently strokes my hair as we drift back off to sleep.

BOOM. The thunder crashes outside again, but this time I don't even flinch.

"You're not scared of thunder, are you, doll?"

I smile against his chest. "...No."

The End.

Brb, going to take an ice bath.

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juniperdugong · 2 months ago

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Ditching Witches

Pairing: Sylus x GN!reader (established relationship) Genre: Fluff, minor angst CW: Swearing, light-hearted jealousy WC: 851

Day 4 of To Halloween with Love Event

A/N: Lotta firsts with this event lmao, been meaning to get into the Love and Deepspace bag with fics for forever

"So comfortable already? Sweetie." Sylus walks in with a big bowl of popcorn in the festive jack-o-lantern bowl you had picked out together the other day.

"Hard not to get comfortable at your place," you beam as you cuddle into the biggest, fluffiest blanket you could find in his linen closet.

He sets the bowl beside you on the couch and slips under the blanket, wrapping an arm around your waist and lazily tracing lines along your belly with his cold hands. "Glad you like it so much- been so much warmer with you around." Resting his head on your shoulder you feel as he presses light kisses along your jaw.

"Don't get all touchy with me mister! Not after tonight..." You pout and huff as you pry his hand away with little to no strength, not really wanting him to let go but still wanting to stick to your conviction.

"Ha." Just as you expected, he presses into you and grips you tighter. "You're the one who picked that costume for me, kitten. How am I to blame?"

You whip your head away from him with another huff.

"Starting to sound like the big bad wolf, sweetie." He smirks.

You push at his chest and hog the blanket, "You were practically all over them!"

"I barely even spoke to them." He chuckles and you know the whole thing is silly but you can't help but be possessive with him... You know if the tables were flipped he'd probably be much worse.

"You spoke to them." You purse your lips and side-eye him.

"You don't want me to speak to other people?"

"Not when those other people obviously want to get in your pants..."

"Hey. You know I'd want no one else but you in my pants, sweetie." And his tone darkens for just a moment - almost willing you to take him into your arms right then! But no! You must stay strong, when else would you have the chance to get mad at him just a little?

"Those bitches-"

"Witches." He cuts you off and you look up at him with a puzzled expression, "They were dressed as witches." He grins knowing just what buttons to press for you to lose it.

And he's damn good at knowing your buttons because you swear your eye twitches, "You remembered what they were dressed as?"

"It was a Halloween party, baby."

"I hate you." You abruptly say as you toss and curl yourself up in the blanket so tightly you feel like it would rip if it wasn't so well made.

"Mmm... you hate me?" And your silence only further amuses him. "Oh no... My love hates me sooo much." The sarcasm is dripping from his words and you're about to just give in and call it there but suddenly you're being lifted and sat back down upright.

With the blanket still tightly wrapped around your upper half, you can tell that he's set you down in his lap with the way his arms settled on your waist. And you gasp as you feel his hot breath through the fabric near your ear, "They hate me so much that they can't even finish picking the movie for our movie night..." he whispers and it makes you shudder.

With a pout still painted on your face, you uncover yourself slowly, trying your best to leave eye contact for last. "Still hate me?" He says with a smile that he knows you can't ignore.

"Can't hate you..." And you know how childish you sound but what good is acting mature when he coddles you like this?

"Yeah? Well good, I'd hate for you to hate me. I'd hate myself so much."

"You know I'm joking right?" You just have to confirm with him that this is all some cringy game before you actually start to believe that this could become normal.

"I know, sweetheart. I also know that even though you're joking there's just a small part of you that's actually jealous..."

"You suck."

"Right. I suck." And he brings snuggles himself into you, constricting your movements with a hug.

"Why did you have to look so good in that costume? Huh?!" You poke at his chest with fury as you come to rest your head against his shoulder this time.

"You're the one who picked it, sweetie. I'm sure you had an idea of what I would look like in it."

"You had your whole chest out!"

"You picked it."

And you just have to resign from this nonsense argument because you're going in circles over practically nothing. With a sigh, you snuggle back into him and pick up the popcorn. He grabs the remote and you both begin the endless hell of scrolling till you both agree on a movie.

You knew you weren't justified in arguing with him over this. After all, he was the one who kept bringing up his partner to those witches when they asked for his number and he's the one who dutifully ditched the party with you the moment you said you wanted to leave.

A/N: Oh no... Sylus! Save me! Lmao I love this man so much, actually the death of me and the whole reason I picked the game up. (I have him leveled up far better than the others ;-;) I am lowkey hoping that my spinning wheel for this event picks JJK again soon bc I have some lowkey-angst I've been wanting to write out...

Please Reblog and Comment (They act as power-ups for me)

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lani-heart · 11 months ago

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|| series masterlist || next // previously ||

genre(s) -> angst, fluff, smut, non-idol, hybrid au, poly au paring(s) -> choi san x reader warning(s) -> soft smut, loosing virginity(s) words -> 2.1K

abstract -> San is struggling with his upcoming heat... especially with never experiencing it before

san's perspective

Two months with her have felt like bliss.

I think I loved her. I’ve never had anyone care for me the way she does. I’ll forever be in her debt… and I’ll always be by her side as long as she’ll let me.

Along the lines of admiration, I’ve gained a weird feeling that I couldn’t explain. It was probably the same feeling that makes Wooyoung the pervert he is.

“Everything is normal, there's nothing to worry about,” the bunny-looking doctor said… She was worried about me. I feel hot and Wooyoung has been getting on my nerves…

“He’s experiencing heat, from what Kun said he’s never truly experienced it. Which probably means he’s always been under heat suppressants” he explained.

Heat? I’ve never been allowed to experience it before…

“So if he doesn't decide to take it, his heat will be pretty intense and may last longer than it usually would. Not to mention he’s an exotic hybrid so there's different mannerisms he may display” he explained as he handed y/n a pamphlet.

We walked out of there and now on our way back home.

“San… Do you want to take suppressants?” she asked me and I shook my head. “Hybrid hotel?” she asked me and I hated the thought of being around hybrids I didn’t know let alone have sex with them.

I shook my head and she sighed seeming to be out of options.

I wanted to suggest so she could help me… but that wouldn’t happen. If we were to spend my heat together, I'd probably consider her my mate after.

I really wanted to just have her to myself that way… but it was probably the heat talking. Making me imagine all the different types of scenarios I could have with her.

How was I supposed to survive this heat?

y/n’s perspective

Doyoung explained how exotic hybrids often show different behaviors than regular domesticated hybrids. Panthers specifically are possessive and are polygamous but won’t allow the female to be mated with another male during heat… he explained that this might be the reason why he was being territorial with Wooyoung.

It was a little different with hybrids though…

This would also be his first real heat… which also meant he never…

“Are you okay?” San asked me and I nodded. “You’re just really red…” he said and I tried to cool my cheeks with my hands. “Are you getting sick?” he asked as we stopped walking and he started feeling my forehead and my neck for heat.

“San, I’m okay,” I said and he nodded.

We continued walking in silence… probably trying to figure the situation out himself.

He really is different from the version of him I met two months ago… no longer stubborn and solitary. He’s also really caring… with me and Wooyoung. He was the sweetest hybrid now…

We made it back to the apartment and we waited for the elevator to ding. San hates the elevator… he isn’t used to bell sounds yet. So he always covers his ears when he enters and leaves the elevator.

Recently he’s started leaning towards me for comfort. I will pet his head trying to distract him. I even heard him purr sometimes… anything to help him.

“You guys are back!!” I heard Wooyoung yell as me and San finally were home. “Did you find out why he’s been so mean?” he asked and I sighed. “Heat,” I said and his ears went up in realization.

“Ohhhh… So what are you gonna do?” he asked him and he shook his head. “San can’t go to a hybrid hotel, and he doesn’t want to do heat suppressants,” I said and he nodded. “I’m not helping him,” Wooyoung said jokingly, causing San to click his tongue and go straight to his room.

“Does that mean I get to change room then?” Wooyoung asked and I was confused. “Why would you witch room?” I said and he pouted. “He's mean to me!! I also don't want to hear him get off to himself” he said and I felt my face redden again.

“I-It’ll be the same way when you’re in heat, Wooyoung,” I managed to say and he nodded.

“You could always help him?” he asked and I felt my face get even hotter if it was even possible... “It's a suggestion… Heats are painful by yourself,” he said.

Wooyoung went to the kitchen, probably to experiment with another recipe while I went to San’s room… would he even want my help?

His door opened before I could even knock. “I heard your footsteps,” he explained and I nodded. “We need to figure this out, San… it's only gonna get worse if you ignore it,” I said and he sighed. He let me in and I sat on his bed whilst he sat on his desk chair.

“I don’t want to go to a hotel… nor mate with someone I don’t know” he explained and I nodded. “I know… and heat suppressants would be bad for your health since you’ve been on it for too long” I explained and he nodded.

“Do you want my help?” I suggested and he looked at me with widened eyes. “Don’t say things like that…” he said shyly. “Huh? Why? Was it an offense?” I asked now worried and he shook his head.

“If you mate with me, you'll be mine. We’ll be mated… that's the equivalent to marriage to hybrids' ' he said and I understood why he didn’t ask now…

“You’ll be mine forever… that's a lot of commitment that a human might not want” he said and I sighed. I didn’t think of any romantic relationship when I first adopted him… not to mention sexual but now it was different…

“I don’t think I'd mind?” I said and he looked at me with another shocked expression. “You’ll be mine, y/n. In every type of way possible” he said now standing over me. I nodded… “I don’t mind… as long as you don’t either” I said and he chuckled.

“Are you sure?” he asked and I nodded. “Once I start there's no way to go back. Mine y/n… your body, soul, and heart will be mine” he said and I smiled. “Does that mean you’ll be mine?” I asked and I saw him smile softly. “Kitty, I'm already yours,” he said and I was shocked.

“I’ve… I've never mated with anyone before though” he confessed. “I’ve never had sex with anyone before,” I said softly and he groaned. “I wouldn’t want to hurt you,” he said and I shook my head.

“It’s okay… I do feel bad that I feel like I'm taking advantage of you. You're in heat-” “I’m still conscious… I know what's happening. I’m not deep into my heat to feel the need to fuck anything and everything” he explained. I nodded.

“I do wish that I confessed in a different way… but I never expected you to think of me that way,” he said and I shook my head. “I didn’t think I would… but you’ve changed in the two months of being here,” I said and he nodded.

“I promise to be gentle with you”

No one's perspective

He lifted you up briefly to help lay you down on his bed. His face is now touching his nose with yours… The both of you leaning in to kiss each other. It was a gentle peck at first but...

The kiss no longer an innocent first kiss, instead messy and desperate for what's to come… his grip on your waist lowered down to your hips as his bulge found your clothed core

Moaning into your kiss as he pulled away with a string of saliva connecting the two of you. He chuckled… “Your lips look so pretty swollen” he muttered as you felt shy with the amount of praise he was giving.

“My pretty little mate,” he said as he tugged on your sweater… “Let’s take some of this off,” he said as he helped take off your top layer of clothes leaving you in only a bra.

He leaned into your neck to suck and nip on the sensitive skin. You couldn’t help moaning at the feeling.

Knowing that tomorrow the marks would be visible to the world… mainly Wooyoung. He kept kissing downwards to your chest until he met with your bra.

He didn’t even try to figure out how to take it off… instead with his claws out ripped them not even letting you complain and he now stood up and groped them.

“So soft…” he muttered and he chuckled. “Why aren’t you letting yourself go, kitty? Scared the pesky little fox will find out? He already knows… he can hear better than me” he confessed and you only felt embarrassed.

“Don’t be shy… give the pervert fox a little show. He’s had a crush on you for years now” he said and you couldn’t even react “Wh–” getting cut off by your own moans. He was now rubbing your core through your clothes.

“No, going back now. I want you to show the pesky fox you’re mine. My mate… not his” he muttered as he pulled down your pants to reveal your underwear.

He pulled your underwear to the side and started with kitty licks against your clit. Stopping your moans by covering your mouth which San chuckled at. “Give me your hands,” he said sweetly. He stood up slightly to grab your arms and now intertwined my hands with his…

“Please… for me kitty. I wanna hear how I’m doing” he said as this time he flattened out his tongue against you. “Pretty pussy… my mate, mine” he muttered. San is already drunk in pleasure, whilst you slowly forget about everything and only focus on the pleasure he was giving you.

“San!!” you moaned out, everything in this room was now sinful with the messy nature of San, and now you moaned his name without thinking of the fox lurking in the apartment. Your moaning slowly got louder each time San teased your clit signaling how close you were to him.

He finally let go of your hands as he now tested a finger inside your pussy as you were now gripping his hair. “Close, kitty?” he teased and you couldn’t even answer once he found where to unravel you.

Everything felt like too much as you came, “I should’ve done this sooner” he said as he teased your now sensitive clit.

“How much more do you think you can handle?” he muttered. “I want to… help you” you barely made out as you tried coming back from orgasm number one of many.

“You’re gonna help me with my heat? Gonna be my mate… my little toy?” he teased and you whined at his teasing now overstimulating you. You couldn’t even close your legs to try to stop him… not with his tail wrapped around your ankle.

“So messy,” he said as he slapped your clit making your hips jolt up. “Cute… such cute responses you give me~ Do you like everything I'm giving you?” he asked and you nod, not trusting your voice.

“I worried about how I'd handle the heat… but no matter how much you learn, they never tell you how addicted I feel to you right now,” he confessed.

He signaled for you to intertwine your hands again.

“We can't stop here if you need rest?” he asked, now worried about the next step being too much for you. “ It's okay,” you said and he nodded. He took back one of his hands to free his cock out. Now showing himself to you and rubbing himself against your pussy

You could even see the penile spines on his cock giving you friction on your pussy and clit making you moan again. He lined himself up only to look at you worriedly.

“You can back out now… you don’t have to help me” he said and you smiled softly at him. “I want to… don’t you want to make me your mate?” you asked him and he groaned. “So badly, kitty” he muttered as he entered the tip, the both of you now moaning at how each other feels. “You're so tight” he moaned out, “Big” you managed to mutter out, it was painful for a while but San let you adjust a bit while praising you.

“You can do this kitty, come on,” he said as one of your hands stayed intertwined and the other now around your jaw. He slowly sank himself in helping you adjust by staying still and kissing your neck. “Pretty little mate… mine now” he muttered to himself.

Feeling frustrated slightly you moved your hips slightly to feel relief and he started moving, thrusting in and out trying to maturely chase his high.

“Close” he muttered as the two of you virgins came another time. This time San was with you and coating your insides white… he didn’t even pull out of you as he collapsed slightly on top of you catching his breath.

His tail twitching behind him frantically…

“Oh kitty… you’re not going anywhere until I breed you over and over, showing everyone especially the pesky fox your mine”

@wonuangel @danirael @angelsaway @krissroo @minkysmilk @mayonnaise-on-toast @robertsbbygirl @superbbananananana @hyukssunflower @kitty4hwa @justconniez @senpai-of-doom @kibs-and-bits @caityelise99 @ilovekinny @ateezennie23 @wooahaelemons @purplelady85 @watamotee33@chidess97 @littlelostdemonofthelight @maliamaiden @burntarm1n @spooo00oky @eastleighsblog @momo-peachy @kitstar1117 @quartzpirate @sunnyhokyu @iwishiwasrichasfuck @theginger543210 @pandolinka @ddaeing @kpopnightingale @slid3er @kekdo-520 @puppyminnnie @sparklinghwa222 @calicanbeevil @itsvxlentine @atinism @loumin908 @smally97 @rxnexxi @acetruepunk @majesticbeluga @namjooncrabs @tashizxy @itstheghostofmypast @smilefordongil @teeziny @totallynotlyntv @kyeos4ng @prodsh00ky @acescavern

please don't be a silent reader !! reblog, comment, and like <3

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bluecollarmcandtf · 6 months ago

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Fast Food Snack

My story starts with a close, but I'm hungry...

An intimidating glare from the baggy-eyed manager tells me to back the fuck off, but I have no intention of leaving. I'm starving and this asshole has no idea who he's staring at! After all, how could an old fast-food worker named Darryl know that I just discovered the ability to control dumb little minds like his?

"Open up," I say, licking my lips at the feeling of inserting myself into his head.

Mind control isn't like how it's portrayed in movies. I don't just snap my fingers and bring victims into a vacantly drooling state. No! It's much more invasive than that, and it's much, much more unpleasant for my poor targets. Imagine a sickeningly stiff presence pushing through the back of your skull. It shoves your own ideas and intentions aside, ripping away the control you had over your body. You probably always took that control for granted, but now you can't cause so much as the blinking of an eyelid. Most people spend their time in my thrall screaming internally.

Being sidelined in your own body takes some getting used to, and Darryl isn't enjoying it in the slightest. Nevertheless, I use his hands to unlock the front door and invite myself inside.

"Please, come in," I make his gravelly voice speak, "Can I suck your dick as an apology?"

I feel the man cringe on the inside. He hates hearing and feeling his own mouth make such a vulgar offer, but his stoic face doesn't crack. This idiot is trapped inside his own mind while I get to puppet around his body. I don't even have to tell him what to do.

"Maybe later," I pinch the manager's cheek, "Let's get you deep-fried and seasoned first."

With a vice grip on his brain, I steer the fast-food worker off to do my bidding. Humiliating my playthings is the perfect appetizer...

Darryl spends the next few minutes collecting all the leftover food from the garbage, dumping it all over himself. The manager doesn't stop there, proceeding to lay on the floor and rub all the grease and ketchup into his clothes. That trademark glare stays frozen on his face the entire time he soaks in the day's old fries and ketchup.

"I'm a messy little bitch," he states blandly from the ground, "And an ugly, dumb, low-life."

His words make me chuckle, even though I'm the one making him say it. My metaphorical arm is rammed up his ass like a ventriloquist with a dummy. It's also me that's puppeting his hands to rub the food into the pits of his polo and the crotch of his khakis.

"You really should've just let me inside," I purr with my own mouth, "Now I'm gonna make you act like a messy bitch forever."

Darryl's face remains unbothered, but I feel the real man panic inside. If he had control over his eyes right now, they would be bulging in pure terror. Instead, they gaze passively back at me from the floor.

"Boss? Where'd you go?" a smooth voice interrupts my fun with Darryl.

A tall, dark, and handsome young man walks out from the back kitchen. His thick arms and bushy beard make me salivate. The name tag on his juicy pec reads 'Josh' but there's plenty of other things I'd rather call a stud like him.

"I thought you said we'd leave early if we got everything cleaned up," he grunts quietly.

The handsome fool is too preoccupied with wiping down tables to notice his manager rolling in grease and condiments. Briefly glimpsing in his mind tells me that he wants to finish his shift as quickly as possible, but I won't be letting him off work any time soon.

He jumps when he finally notices me, startled to find a customer still lurking after closing hours. His scowl shortly returns to his face as he pushes out his chest to address me.

"We're closed. You need-" his voice cuts as I commandeer his heavy body and thick neck.

With me in control, Josh's autonomy is squeezed into a corner of his skull, but he still retains all his senses; feeling his muscles relax, licking his salty lips, taking a deep breath of greasy air, and staring at his new master. I make him walk forward until his bulging chest is brushing against my own.

"I can give you a much better show than that dried-up, old, dishrag," I make him say, gesturing to Darryl with his broad hands, "My man-tits are fat and juicy just for you. Let me be your little slut. Fuck me like the breedable piece of meat I am."

Internally, Josh is furious, but his voice doesn't waver as he delivers the words I wrote for him. He's like a Ken doll I'm playing with, only none of it is pretend.

"I think I'd prefer dinner and a show," I giggle, "Why don't we let that dried-up, old, dishrag fuck your ass. He is your boss, after all."

Josh doesn't visibly react to the idea. He doesn't wince or crack the scowl I'd left on his handsome face. He just marches to the back and lays himself out on the dirty floor. Darryl follows, per the instructions I'm pumping into each of his limbs.

"Give it to me hard, boss," Josh says in a low monotone.

"Prepare for a rough ride, muscle-slut." Darryl answers his employee dryly.

Of course, internally, both men are freaking out. It's hard to tell who's more panicked; the manager who's about to dog-fuck his employee, or the roided up gym-rat who's about to take it like a bitch. Darryl wants nothing more than to pull Josh off the floor and run out of the building, but I hold his body firmly in place, making the man unbuckle his stained khakis like he's about to get lucky. Josh is the same, desperately trying to break free and attack, but I've got full control over his bulky body. I make him stick out his tongue and lick the floor like a pathetically horny animal. He still has to taste every inch.

"Papa's ready for ya," Darryl moans, pulling out the cock I easily inflated to full mast.

"Hurry Papa!" Josh squirms as he thumbs his pants below his wiggling bubble butt.

"What the hell?" a nervous voice stutters.

Turning, I find a much less impressive man walking into the kitchen. His name tag reads 'Aaron' and he must've been bullied into cleaning the bathrooms for the last twenty minutes. He's missed a lot, but it doesn't take long for me to catch him up.

"I'm enjoying a meal here!" I bite, mildly annoyed, "Shut up and make yourself useful."

His mind folds instantly to my efforts, and I know exactly how to put him to use. Aaron snaps his mouth, marches around before me, and kneels. Without a single breath of pause, his hands unzip my jeans and pull out my aching penis. He swallows it whole, bobbing his head expertly. Aaron's never done this before, but I've had a few blow jobs and I know exactly how I like it; with a throat wide open and lips at the base.

"Continue," I sigh in pleasure towards Josh and Darryl.

The pair unfreeze, resuming the messed up porno I'm forcing them to star in. The manager leans into Josh's back and enters him from behind. "You're gonna have to take Daddy's dick every time we close. Got it, boy?" he grunts down at his employee. The bearded stud looks up to his boss, and sucks some of the various condiments out of the man's stained shirt. "Yes, sir. I want to end every day like this, here, with you inside me." Darryl continues slapping his groin into Josh's splayed rear, pushing the younger man's face against the cold damp floor.

It isn't long before Aaron's expert dick-sucking leaves me cumming in his stomach. Finally, I'm satiated. "FfuuuuUUUuuuUucck..." I grunt out a long guttural moan of relief.

When my eyes flutter open, I see the mess I've left in this little restaurant...

The three men stop with the act; Aaron pauses, my dick still halfway down his throat; Josh freezes in the middle of writhing with fake pleasure; Darryl even ceases his brutal rape of his employee despite never reaching a climax. None of it matters anymore. My rocks have gotten off, so my little puppet show is over. I'm left with three terrified fast-food workers with broken wills.

"Sorry guys," I pull away and zip up my pants, "I get a little carried away when I'm horny."

"It's, ok," they all answer back nonchalantly, but I can hear their true thoughts screaming, locked away somewhere in their minds.

With a wave of my hand, I wipe the experience from their memories. I turn off their consciousness and set Darryl, Josh, and Aaron on autopilot. Like actors in a bad hypnotism movie, they rise and get back to their nightly chores. This time, their jaws are slack and their eyes are vacant. They'll finish closing down the restaurant and go home, where they'll scrub themselves clean and get a long night of rest. By tomorrow, all of the psychological and physical remnants of what I've done will be gone.

For them, it'll be like I never set foot inside this place. For me, I'll have to pretend that I didn't just become an evil and sadistic super villain. I never did end up eating any food, but I did satisfy some sort of hunger inside me...

...at least for now.

I let my urges get the better of my powers. Being a mind controller is hard. I can barely even control my own mind at times. Wandering away from the isolated, little, restaurant, I wonder how long it'll take before I lose control of myself again...

To be continued?

#gay mind control #degredation kink #humiliated slave #hypno story #ChaptersofaMindControllerslife

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lynnsenpai · 2 months ago

Text

My ten year anniversary of beating cancer

On October 2nd 2014, I - a trans woman - was diagnosed with testicular cancer. I wanna talk about that a little today. (((Probably obvious trigger warnings, but I'm going to talk about cancer, mortality, and transphobia.)))

It was a crazy time, because that morning, I was just going in for my yearly physical with my doctor. I planned to talk to her about taking steps towards bottom surgery that day, and then I was just excited to get home and count down the hours until Smash Bros for 3DS would release the very next day. But the appointment went an unexpected direction during the physical.

I'd always been told by doctors my whole life to check for lumps, and as much as I hated that part of my body, I did as I was told. So when I never found lumps, I assumed that meant I was okay. Then my doctor told me one of them felt oddly hard. She left the room for some time (I assume to check some things) and when she returned, she explained she had some concerns and was sending to another specialist to confirm some things. She said she felt very sure it was a sign of testicular cancer, though.

At the time, my brain wasn't ready to hear that. My doctor was visibly shaken. My spouse was on the verge of tears. And I was deep in denial like, "but I mean there's a chance it might not be, right? So I'm not going to sweat it." In hindsight, I'm sure I was frustrating to listen to for not taking it seriously. But it wasn't like I was trying to be obstinate, I just was that strongly in disbelief. I didn't feel sick. I wasn't in any pain. Things were going well; this couldn't possibly be happening now.

And yet, a few days later, I saw the specialist, and it was confirmed. I had cancer. Any optimistic doubts I had, shot down in an instant. The specialist wanted to take care of this as fast as he could, so I was scheduled for surgery at the end of the month, and he gave me a stack of prescriptions for various tests I would go to - basically one a day - for the next few weeks.

I had lots of blood drawn. I had x-rays done. I had CT scans. I had an incredibly awkward, uncomfortable ultrasound. And at each appointment, I was seeing some new doctor, nurse, technician, or otherwise professional who probably looked at my chart and, despite my legally changed name and gender marker by that point, saw that the person in front of them had testicular cancer. “And such a person could only be a man.”

I feel like it must sound so petty to be worried about pronouns when you're dealing with something like cancer. But I want to stress that I was nearly a year in presenting full time as myself by that point. I hadn't been called a man in a very long time. And up until earlier that very month, I was on cloud nine and ready to take the next step in my transition. This whole ordeal, on top of being horrendously scary, also took huge strides in regressing all the progress I'd made with confidence and self-love over the previous two years.

And it got worse too. Insurance refused to cover the surgery because I changed the gender marker. Because "why would a woman need to get surgery to remove a testicle. That's just silly!" And there was no convincing them otherwise. Insult to injury, I had to change that gender marker back to an M in their system so that they would approve this surgery. It was a surprisingly easy change to make happen too (which was technically beneficial for the surgery, but also sucked in its own way).

Oh, and then I had to go off all my HRT meds in preparation to reduce the risk of blood clots during surgery. I never felt lower.

All the while, I had plenty of time to think about my mortality. I was only 30. What about my spouse who I love more than anything and might be leaving alone forever? What about my ongoing webcomic, my work of passion which at the time was only nearing about the halfway point, and was at risk of being left unfinished forever? And what about my own future that not so long ago felt so bright?

It would not be an understatement to call October 2014 one of the darkest, heaviest, scariest periods of my life. But not in that good fun "Halloweeny" way.

But the big day came. On October 28th - ten years ago today - I went in for surgery for the first time. I was in the OR for maybe an hour, and the cancerous testicle was removed. As suddenly as it started, it was over.

Recovery was a long and painful (without dragging out the story longer than it already is, the surgical site got infected, so healing probably ended up taking longer than it should have). But the good news, all things considered, was that they successfully removed it, and I wouldn't even need chemo because it was caught so early.

There's technically more to the story. I would later see an oncologist who encouraged a second surgery, to remove the other testicle, as well as lymph nodes around the kidneys, all as a preventative measure to make sure it didn't come back or spread. I didn't love this idea, but she seemed confident that this was the right choice, so I went along with it. And just four months after the first surgery, I went and did it all again. (This time went much more smoothly, but was a much bigger incision, and was still a very long recovery.)

The whole thing, start to finish - including recovery time - was only about 7 months long. I would go for regular oncology visits and testing and blood draws along the way for years to come, but it never showed up again.

In 2016, I finally got back on track for bottom surgery, and then had it done later that same year. My gender marker is back to being an F (where it should be) on everything. I also have two wicked cool scars to show that I conquered cancer.

Unfortunately, I don't think I ever fully mentally recovered from the emotional stress of that first month, as doctor visits still evoke way more anxiety for me than they used to. But I don't get misgendered anymore, at least.

This was all ten years ago I wasn't sure I'd still be here on this day back then. But I got through it. I'm still here for my spouse. I finished that first webcomic after an 11 year run, and have since started a second. And… I'm doing okay. I'm doing the best I can everyday.

It was a terrible time in my life - an especially terrible way to start my 30's - but I think it helps to talk about from time to time. And the ten year anniversary, feels as meaningful a time as any.

So thank you for reading all that. Please make sure to take care of and check yourself. Even if it's a part of yourself you don't want.

Stay safe, stay happy, and stay healthy everyone.

#cancer survivor #selfie #ten year anniversary #trans

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