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#afab ana
emaciatedmilf · 1 year
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i dont wanna be pretty skinny
i want to be so thin everyone can see how sick i am. i want to be "too thin". i want to be emaciated
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st4rsh · 2 months
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friendly reminder that you naturally weight more during your period, so you don’t have to get scared if you see the number go up, it’ll go down once your period passes!!
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00v4mp · 1 year
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as an afab, i fucking hate periods.
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ventasaurus · 10 months
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I am pro-recovery always.
If you are triggered by the following I highly suggest you block this account:
- self harm (cutting)
- eating disorders and body image issues (anorexia)
- dysphoria (trans masculine)
Lw: 77/34.9
Hw: 95/43.1
Cw: 85/38.6
Gw: 70/31.8
Height: 4'8/142.2
Bmi: 19.1
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gender0bender · 1 year
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IDs: a lex missed connection post consisting of black text on a blue background that reads “oh pretty pink haired afab(?) enby - maybe my window tint is too dark, maybe you shouldn’t have been texting and biking? sorry I didn’t have time to stop and chat, hmu I’ll gently brush the gravel off those collarbones tomorrow.
The second image is a screenshot of a tweet by ana mardoll reading *sigh* I am a part time employee paid hourly. I do not have a “massive ssalary” from anywhere. I do not own my home; I have a mortgage. You are misinformed. ED.
Tentatively calling this collection AFAB perfomance art.
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blue-strawberry · 2 years
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Hii!! I'm ace and I'm Looking for an ana coach for who I can starve for<3 it would be nice if you live in austria but if you live somewhere else that's also ok
Cw:66kg
Gw:50kg
Ugw:45kg
Height:180cm
Afab
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sweet-honey-fruit · 8 months
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Going Feral
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Their true forms take over, and they’re needy for you.
Pairs — Childe, Itto, Ei, Zhongli x afab!reader
Note: I know Childe’s isn’t exactly what I said would happen, but I liked the idea of being fucked by foul legacy so much that I plan on making that it’s on fanfic.
Warnings — Rough sex, degradation, praise, restraints, public sex (Childe) belly bulge (Itto and Childe), breeding kink (Itto), unfair power dynamic but it’s all consensual, rough fucking, monster fucking (?), inappropriate use of tail (Zhongli)
!Everything is consensual! 18+ MINORS DNI
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Childe
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The entirety of his massive body engulfed the fragility of yours. His cock was so, so much bigger, stretching you out to your fullest. His pace was relentless, pinning you down to the floor while his dick dragged along your slick walls. His sharpened claws tangled in your hair as he thrust deeper and deeper inside you. All of it was overwhelming in the most delicious way possible. The sound of skin slapping and your squelching noises filled your ears, the sound so erotic that it caused a puddle to drip below you. The grip on your waist from him was almost painful, but you were so far gone that you barely registered any pain at all. You just wanted more. More of him. He was all you needed, and you loved it. In this form, in the Golden House, right here and right now. You didn’t want anything else other than this.
“Please Childe, it’s too much…” Your words came out slurred and muffled with every breath, drunk off the pleasure the fullness provided. A deep rumbling purr vibrated in Foul Legacy’s chest. It sent a delicious chill down your spine, one that was a mix of fear and excitement. He pulled himself out of you and slammed back into you, harder, rougher. “If you’re going to act like a whore for dick you might as well learn to take it,” His voice reverberated through your body as he was flushed against yours. He practically lifted you off the ground with ease, his groans coming out as growls.
Your body was quivering beneath his own. Tears of bliss streamed down your face as you were turned into a blabbering mess. Broken moans of his name are all that are eligible and it filled him up with pride. Knowing that even in another form he was able to turn you into a desired-filled disaster. To turn you into Ana whimpering, helpless mess. His hand pressed down on the bulge in your stomach. The motion makes you feel all of him at once. You arched your back, gripping onto him the best you can. Your walls clenched around him as burning pleasure took over your body, so much so that you swore your vision turned white for a moment.
The sensation of your walls hugging his cock sent him over the edge. He pushes you back onto the ground and fucks into you faster, the overstimulation making you squirm. With one final thrust, his seed shot into you, dripping back down onto the floor. He leaned down, lifting the mask off his head just enough to give you a sweet kiss on your slightly parted lips. He smiled against them, a smile that you could read as mischievous even in your delirious state. Putting his mask back down, he slammed his cock back into you again. This time slower, savoring each movement.
Ei
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Hot, hot, hot. It felt so overwhelmingly hot despite the cool, crisp air of Euthymia. There was an ungodly amount of hands on your flushed body. Not a single part of you is touching the ground below. There is a pair of hands gripping your wrists and ankles, forcing them apart to leave your bare body open and vulnerable. Hands were fondling your chest, brushing over your nipples that elicit even more erotic moans out of you that echoed throughout the sacred chamber. Her form floated just a few feet away, legs crossed and chin resting on the palm of her hand in mockery. Mockery of how vulnerable you are, completely under her influence.
Hands were gripping your thighs, needing the flesh so harshly that it was sure to leave behind bruises. Hands wrapped around your hips and forced you down onto the fingers that were pumping in and out of your sopping wet hole. All these hands yet not one of them belonged to the woman who appeared before you. Her eyes held a fierce intensity of lust, tempting you to look away from her, to close your eyes and fall into the pleasure that she undoubtedly controls. You made the mistake of looking away once, and that left you with a hand-shaped mark on the side of your face from one of her many hand puppets.
“This sight,” Her luring voice surrounds you, enticing you to bring your attention to her. Her hand drops, ghosting over her chest and down her torso. Your eyes follow her movement. A ragged breath slips past your lips when Ei finally uncrosses her legs, revealing her drenched hole. You can see the slickness on her inner thighs from the dim lighting of the realm. "Is truly something I wish to see for eternity."
Her finger slips between her folds, enticing a soft moan out of her. At this moment the hand puppet that was pumping in and out of you at a brutal pace has stopped completely. You whine in frustration, wanting more. More of the white-hot pleasure it was giving you.
"You'll be my puppet, won't you? Be my little plaything.." She slips in another finger, pumping in and out at a slow pace. The hand-puppet mimics her movements, in and out of your own. You lurch forward, a moan forced out of of you and leaving you breathless. Ei’s satisfied smile is prevalent, the squelching sound of her fucking her pussy sending you into a haze.
She sped up, her head tilting back and letting out a moan so divine you wanted to get on your knees and worship her then and there. You couldn’t stop your legs from quivering from the intensity of the sensations you were feeling. You felt as light as a feather, not able to think of anything other than Ei and what she was indirectly doing to you. Not able to think about anything other than how beautiful she looked when she plunged her fingers inside of her, her thumb circling her clit with such precision that it caused your clit to throb with need. No thought didn’t cross your mind that wasn’t related to how good she was making you feel. Your slick dripped onto the ground, so wet that was gliding down your thighs.
The god of eternity molded you into her puppet, which she can control however she wishes. If it meant leaving you shaking, begging for more with her fingers down your throat, soaked with her juices; then you didn’t mind one bit.
Itto
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Itto’s horns were bigger, pointier than usual. His nails were razor-sharp, longer. They dug into the dips of your hips, locking you down tight on his face. Your own hands clung to his horns to maintain your balance. With each tug he receives from your iron grip, the more animalistic growls that are muffled by your pussy. He was lapping at your wetness like a starved dog.
“Stop! Too much- too much Itto-“ Your pleas are cut off by a pornographic moan when his overtly long tongue slips between your folds. He pulls you down closer when you try to back away from the overwhelming amount of white-hot pleasure coursing through your body. The way his tongue slips out of your aching hole to swirl around your clit left your back arching and your nails digging into his horns. Your grip only sent him into overdrive.
With a growl that was muffled by your thighs, he lifted you off of his face. You could only catch a glimpse of the gleam from your slick around his mouth before he turned you around and forced you onto your stomach. Your hands gripped the sheets in surprise, even more so when he lifted your hips.
“Too much, huh? Too much, too much.” He laughs, and it sounds borderline maniacal. A chill is shot down your spine at the sound, yet at the same time, it leaves your hole throbbing and aching for more. Begging to be fucked by this new side of him. “I’ll show you too much. I’ll leave my well-behaved whore feeling so good that you won’t even want to stop.”
You feel the tip of his cock press at your entrance. Your legs shook, not only from pleasure but from the fact of how big he felt. Bigger than usual. Itto leans his body over yours, leaving sloppy kisses up your back, leaving marks along your neck, before finally kissing you on the lips with so much force it knocked your head back a little.
“You’re not a whore- I’m just so-so pent up that I can’t think clearly-“
“Itto,” His name was a quiet whine, making him groan, “Shut up and fuck me already,” It didn’t matter how big he was, his unintentional teasing was leaving your walls to clench around nothing. Begging him to fill you up and make you into his fuck toy.
He places a delicate kiss on your shoulder. A sheering pain coursed through you when his fangs punctured the skin to leave a mark behind. It faded into a pleasure that made your eyes roll back, his tongue gliding over it to soothe the pain. Then, he shoved his cock into your body. It was so overly big that it left a noticeable bulge in your stomach.
He didn’t give you time to adjust. His only focus was on fucking you till you couldn’t walk, till you were screaming his name and so full of his cum that it dripped out of your hole. He slammed into you, and your mind immediately went to the clouds. The way his cock dragged along every inch of you had you drooling, hungry and greedy for more of him. His nails ran up your back, leaving goosebumps of anticipation behind.
“Gonna breed you so good..gonna make you mine. Be good for me and take it,” He slammed his cock into you again. You laid limp, letting him use you as he pleased. In turn, your moans filled his ears, only encouraging him to go harder.
Zhongli
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As much as Zhongli hides and compresses the godhood within him, that doesn’t make his instincts go away. The dragon in him is still present, albeit with a dull ache in his chest. But during times like these, where someone is very obviously trying to flirt and take you home, the ache in his chest grows. And it feels piercing. And the only way to cure the painful feeling is to show exactly who you belong to. Who owns you. Who loves you unconditionally. Dragons are possessive, don’t you know that? So why did you test your limits and flirt back with the person right in front of his eyes?
“Please Zhongli, I was just trying to get a free drink-“your explanation is cut off by his hand pushing your head deeper into the sheets. His grip on your hair is strong, and you can feel his overly sharp claws lightly digging into your scalp. It hurt, but it made your pussy ache for more; more of him.
His body leans down, chest pressing against your back. You catch a glimpse of a faint glow of yellow, and a mix of fear and excitement course through your hypersensitive body. It’s been so long since he’s let out his true form. And he’s using it on you.
A growl emits from his throat, and it reverberates from his chest to your back. It was animalistic, and it elicited a whimper from you. His body weighed you down, it was so much bigger than yours, stronger, leaving you to feel vulnerable and at his mercy. He loved seeing you this way, under him where he was in control. It made the spark for you within him burn brighter.
A brush of something firm creeps up your inner thighs. You can’t tell what it was but it certainly couldn’t be his hands. Not when one hand is pressing your head down into the pillows and the other is wrapped around your torso, forcing you to stay still. No, it wasn’t his hand. It was thicker, wider. And it teasingly slid between your soaked folds.
His lips ghosted over your jawline, traveling up to just the shell of your ear. You could hear his needy pants, the hand around your torso needs your flesh teasingly as the claws dig into your stomach deliciously.
“Do you think I care what your motive was?” His voice sent a shiver down your spine. So deep and dark, something so commanding that it made you stiffen up. You glance back, eyes widening when you catch a glimpse of yellow, slitted eyes; and the tail that was teasing your soaked hole.
“Tell me, my qingxin, since you are so desperate for cock, why must I give it to you, hm?” His tail thrusts inside of your hole, and you mewl over. Your moans are muffled by the pillow, yet they increase in pitch the deeper it goes. It hits your cervix, and you swear you saw stars. Drool pools under your head. He’s slow with his movements, pulling out so gradually, making you feel every detail of his tail dragging against your walls.
His hand in your hair lets go. You barely have a moment to let out a sigh of relief before it’s wrapped around your throat, forcing your body to sit up. Your knees press against the soft sheets, slightly damp from just how much you were dripping. His tail thrust in harder and faster. Moans and slick, slapping sounds echoed around the bedroom. His hand adds pressure, cutting off your noises and leaving you to only roll your eyes back when he hits the perfect spot within you.
“That’s it, fall apart,” He kisses down your neck, his fangs digging into the side of your neck, “Just like that…break for me, show me who owns every part of you.”
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lynnielovestlou · 3 months
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bodyguard! abby anderson x princess! reader (500 followers special)
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꩜ synopsis: based on the book "twisted games" by ana huang. you are next in line for the throne, and abby is your bodyguard. only one problem: you can't be with her. you have to marry someone of royal blood, and abby is not. but that won't stop you from being with her. she knows she can't have you, but she's taking you anyways.
꩜ cw: forbidden love trope , reader and abby sneak around , eventual smut (fingering, strap use, multiple orgasms, pet names, spanking, dirty talk, etc) , reader has a brother , afab! reader , fem! reader , bodyguard! abby , semi-public ,
masterlist
.. ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠. ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠. ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠. ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠. ◠ . ◠ ..
it all started when your brother abdicated. he quite possibly ruined your life the day he fell in love with a flight attendant and decided he didn't want to be king anymore. but you couldn't blame him. he chose love over the throne.
in reality, you could've done the same. not a single part of your body wanted to be queen. too much responsibility and stress, and not enough time to prepare. but everything you do reflects your country, and it would look bad to back out when your brother had done the same.
your grandfather was king, but as he grew older he had to teach your brother, next in line for the throne, how to rule an entire country. he had been preparing to do so for years, but when he met mckenna, he decided he didn't want to. so now, you were next to be queen. and you only had four months to prepare.
you had a dance to attend tonight, because the board decide it would be best for you to marry before coronation. so there you were, sitting on an uncomfortable throne in a room full of men that wish to be your suitor.
"are you paying attention?" a voice to your right says.
another thing. abby fucking anderson. your buff, exponentially attractive bodyguard. you two had a fling before there was this whole drama with your brother, but it soon fizzled out at the reality of the situation. you wanted her, and she wanted you. but the only problem: you can't be with her. she's not of noble blood, so by law, you can't be together.
"i dont need to be. i don't want to marry anyone here." which is almost a lie. you don't want to marry any man here.
abby sighs through her nostrils, her broad shoulders twitching, "c'mon, princess. there's got to be at least one person here that you think is good enough to be your husband."
there wasn't. even abby knew that.
"no thank you." you say with a huff, standing up and straightening out your dress just as another suitor had approached you.
you walk away without another word, abby short on your tail, "where are you going?"
"bathroom." you answer shortly, "i'm fed up with everything and this dress is making it extremely hard not to pee myself."
you excuse yourself for the second time, walking through the marble corridors of the castle while the faint sound of chatter is left in the ballroom. the only sound heard now is the clacking of your heels on the slick floors, the shoes rubbing your feet in the most uncomfortable places.
once in the bathroom you reach behind your back, fumbling with the strings of your corset.
"need some help?" abby questions. you hadn't realized that she followed you.
"i know you're my bodyguard, ms. anderson, but you don't need to follow me in the bathroom."
she chuckles lowly, "we've fucked three times and you still refuse to call me abby, huh?"
a familiar heat rushes to your cheeks.
and somewhere else.
she doesn't wait for an answer before positioning herself behind you, untying the strings for you and giving you immediate relief on your ribs.
"you know how much i hate that i have to watch you dance with other men? how much i hate that their hands are all over you...?"
you swallow, hard, "how much?"
"so much," she begins, "that i want to bend you over that sink and spank your ass raw."
your breath catches in your throat, and you stare at her in the mirror, mouth agape. your heart is hammering against your chest, like it's trying to head-butt itself out.
"take off your dress and spread your legs." she whispers in your ear, to which you comply. you'd be an idiot not to.
once you were stripped of your clothing, the cold air hits your skin and makes you shiver. but the cold doesn't last long before abby is taking you into a sloppy kiss.
"here's what's gonna happen." she says, hands snaking around your body and settling on the plush of your ass, "i don't like seeing you dance with men. so you're going to sit here and let me fuck you like a good girl, alright?"
her fingers slide through your slit. your breath catches for a second time and your body arches towards hers.
you shudder at every word, rutting yourself against her in an attempt to feel friction. she's quick to grab your hips and stop them, pulling a whine from deep within your chest.
"how many men did you dance with?" she demands, her hot breathe hovering on your lips.
"o-only six."
"seven." she corrects you, pinching and pulling on your clit, making you squirm.
"p-please, abby..."
"please what? use your words, princess." she says softly, contradicting her harsh actions.
"please... fuck me already." you plead, bottom lip quivering. your thigh muscles are shaking, and you glance at the pile of discarded clothes on the floor opposite of the counter you're pressed against. your clothes, to be exact. abby is still dressed, but you can see her bulge through her pants. the pants that squeeze her thighs and highlight every muscle. she truly is glorious.
"you wore your strap to the ball?"
she nods her head, taking her hand off your mound and using it to unzip her trousers. you whine at the lack of warmth, the cold air of the bathroom returning to your skin and giving you goosebumps.
"dont worry, sweet girl. once i'm done with you, you'll be sweating." you smirk at this, lifting yourself onto the cold tile counter. you hiss as the temperature hits your bare ass, but abby shuts you up with another kiss, "now stay still. i need to stretch you out before giving you what you really need." she says.
"but i've taken your strap before. it's not that hard."
she laughs at this, "i know you have. but this one's not the same."
your eyebrows raise, but before you can ask what she means her pants and boxers pool around her ankles. this certainly wasn't what you were expecting.
it's much longer and much girthier than than the one she's used on you before. it's even a different color. this one a hot pink, sparkly shade that's enough to force a laugh out of you.
abby giggles in unison, "you like it?" you nod, grabbing her shoulders and pulling her towards you. she's quick to shut that down, "nuh-uh. i told you i've gotta stretch you out first. spread those pretty legs f'me."
you comply easily, spreading them further. she whistles when she sees your twitching, glistening cunt, just weeping and begging for abby to take care of it.
"shit, honey... you think this country knows how wet their queen is right now?"
"but, im not the queen yet— oh!" youre interrupted when abby's middle and ring fingers slide easily into your cunt, your warm walls welcoming her familiar skin. you look down and watch your pussy swallow her up greedily, clenching around her like you're scared she's going to pull away.
"there she is. there's my girl." abby coos, kissing your knee before increasing the speed in which her fingers pump in and out of you.
all that's heard is the sloshing of her fingers in your pussy. the heel of her palm slams against your clit, deliciously stimulating it as your legs begin to shake. abby knows what she's doing, and she loves it.
"gonna look so damn pretty with a crown on your head." she huffs as that familiar coil bubbles up in the depths of your stomach, "s' pretty baby."
a string of moans cascade from your mouth as she pulls her fingers out, letting you have your orgasm on your own. usually she's fuck you through it, but she's not done with you yet.
she grabs the base of the strap, teasing your puffy and swollen folds with it but not putting it in. you whine in protest, but she tuts you in response.
when she finally does push in, however, a strained gasp falls out of your mouth from the stretch of the strap, your hands finding abby's shoulders and squeezing them, "abby— abs— i can't-"
"shh... yes you can. you can take it." she says, letting you adjust before slowly pumping in and out of you, "you can handle being queen but you can't handle this cock?"
"not-" grunt, "queen," grunt, "yet."
she pounds harder and harder, hips slamming against you. your legs are already weak, and you can tell you're going to be bruised tomorrow.
"abby," you say in between breaths, attempting to maintain your composure, "they're going to be wondering where i am."
her hips stutter, but they don't stop. the base of the strap was hitting her clit just right. she was just as close as you are, "shh... almost done. cum with me, baby. c'mon, you can do it."
with only a few more pounds you're both spiraling. you both hope to god nobody is outside the bathroom door, otherwise they would be sure to hear your heavy breathing and tight moans.
once you come down from your high, abby is already tucking her strap back into her tight slacks, the material hugging her thighs beautifully. she helps you dress yourself again in your pretty gown (after she had cleaned you up, of course).
"sorry we have to sneak around, princess. i promise one day we won't have to." she says, pecking a sweet kiss to your temple. without another word, she walks out before you, making sure it doesn't look too suspicious that you were in there together.
you're left with your reality again. you have to go back out there and dance with men that you don't love. a so simple, yet so not, marriage of convenience, when the person that your heart really belongs too has to watch from the sidelines.
but abby was right.
she couldn't have you, but she was taking you anyways.
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aethelwyneleigh27 · 14 days
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Toothache
How does one go "You're Too Sweet For Me" to "My Baby's Sweet As Can Be"?
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Synopsis: Simon Riley finds himself stuck in a situation, growing feelings for his roommate who's so annoyingly caring, domestic, sweet and too good for him. What happens when he let's himself indulge in the sweetness rather than cage himself in the bitter life he's been told is the only one he's deserving of and the only life he's known?
Apologies to this mess of a lyricfic, I couldn't help it even though this was supposed to be a relationship analysis..
MEN WRITTEN BY ANA HUANG ARE GONNA BE THE DEATH OF ME. Alright back to our original programmed schedule with Hozier. ALSO SURPRISE! THIS CONTAINS 3 HOZIER SONGS as an apology for not posting these past two weeks due to me enjoying holidays, reading, prom dress picking and wanting to stab myself because of life, there's the added bonus 👀
My CoD Masterlist
My Simon Riley x You Playlist
Also reader in this one had a lot of characterization, she's me fr, so AFAB?Reader, Fem!Reader, Short!Reader, Reader is VERY feminine with fashion, soft-girl-sunshine!Reader and Chubby?Reader. Y'all have no idea how hard it is to write without a personality and physical intimacy in romance, I tried but failed 😭
Warnings and Disclaimers: Mentions and details on sexual content ahead (is this considered smut? Idk anymore). Not detailed smut but vivid memories of sexual intercourse (especially the dialogue) with Simon. Again, this is a safe account for all ages because I'm not a MDNI acc, you are responsible for your own media consumption. DO NOT GO ON MY DMS, INBOX OR REPLY TO MY CONTENT TO TELL ME YOUR AGE. I don't need to know that and let's strive to not make each other uncomfortable. Mentions of questioning of religion or rather belief on afterlife??
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Pink, bold and italic: Lyrics
Italic: recalling past events
Little snippet of an image of how I imagined he'd hold you, courtesy of the one and only @ave661
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"It can't be said I'm an early bird, it's 10 o'clock before I say a word. Baby, I can never tell, how do you sleep so well?"
Simon Riley was never a man to live the life he was taught to in the military, it was out of habit for him to not leave his room until around noon. Then there was you, his roommate, he didn't exactly calculate how much it would affect his personal life to save money through rent by willingly letting someone within the same living space.
He'd find himself with not even a wink of sleep, hearing your footsteps through the thin walls, hearing the lock on the windows outside click open.
"You kept telling me to live right, to go to bed before the daylight. But then you wake up from the sunrise."
He'd always hear you, quite frankly it was like nagging on the constant.
"Simon you shouldn't do that, you'll hurt yourself"
"Simon please go get some rest"
"Simon.."
He'd swear he'd rip his own ears out every time his name falls from your lips from how sweet and chirpy it sounded and yet deafening silence would consume him whenever you aren't around.
"You don't gotta pretended, Baby, now and then. Don't you just wanna wake up dark as a lake? Smellin' lika bonfire, lost in the haze?"
Something about you makes it so tempting for Simon to give in, I mean it would be a one time thing, wouldn't it? So soft, so pliant, he set himself up for an addiction. It wasn't healthy, he knew this, he'd convince himself of the fact that he would end up hurting you.
Just too different, it repeated like a mantra in his head. He was bitter, brooding and didn't find any sense of pleasure in living. Why'd you think he has the job he chose? It's all he knew, till you skip your way into his life, giving him the sweetness he was deprived of.
"If you're drunk on life babe, I think it's great. But while in this world, I think I'll take my whiskey neat"
Drowning himself in alcohol, a trait Simon promised himself he wouldn't ever do when he was young, setting his glass down with a small thud from the wooden table. But what would the kid version of him know about life. He didn't have healthier options of coping with what seems to be his dilemma.
But then there you were, sweet little thing coming home at the late hour in that skimpy dress of yours. Revealing too much to the eyes of those who wish to have you for themselves with just one look. Where did you go that night?
"My coffee black in my bed at three, you're too sweet for me"
Desperately trying to keep himself awake and at bay from his thoughts of you. Drowning himself in now two cups of straight black coffee to help him focus.
It was odd, you got used to the scent, was strong with a lack of sweetness but it calmed you down knowing he was around.
How he'd corrupt you, he wanted to shatter that rose tinted glasses of yours to save you from himself because being with him would change you. Selfish but he doesn't want that, you were utter perfection..
Simon further delved into his feelings, what the fuck was wrong with him?
"I aim low. I aim true, and the ground's where I go. I work late where I'm free from the phone and the job gets done"
Grumbling, Simon walks back into the apartment in the middle of the night. You heard a thud, you come out of your bedroom, yawing from you incomplete sleep.
"Si..? Are you hurt? What happened?" You asked in a soft tone, careful not to agitate someone would could possibly be pissed off.
Simon stays silent, glaring at you as his eyes was only thing visible because of his balaclava. Your soft gaze intimidated him, because why would he feel that squeeze in his heart?
"But you worry some, I know but who wants to live forever, babe? You treat your mouth as if it's Heaven's gate. The rest of you like you're the TSA, I wish I could go along Babe, don't get me wrong..."
The only thing Simon heard was a sigh from you and nothing more, you walk up to him, each footstep feeling louder than that last.
Something Simon didn't expect you to do was wrap you arms around his waist, tiny thing you are that your head only goes up to his chest. Your body against his, basking in the warmth in contrast to the cold weather he had to deal with coming home.
"You know you're bright as the morning, as soft as the rain, pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape. If you can sit in a barrel maybe I'll wait, until that day.."
You took care of him that night, to his reluctance and stubbornness. Despite refusing, he had no choice, he wouldn't want a soft thing like you on his ear the whole night till he agrees. You were persuasive in your own irritating way.
Sitting on the edge of the tub of the warm bath he's in, washcloth in hand. Touch was so gentle, why was it so soft? Why's it so warm? "It's the water you fucking idiot" his subconscious screaming at him. In denial.
Why is his heart beating so fast..? He wants to stab it to stop the feeling..
"I'd rather take my whiskey neat, my coffee black and my bed at three. You're too sweet for me"
Using both your hands this time around, one gently holding his chin with your fingers while the other wiping away at the eyeblack he had. Every scar on his face felt the graze of your finger.
The slow blinks, your eyes on his. Before any conscious thoughts consume Simon, he lifts his arms from the warm water and wraps them around you.
Your nightgown was now damp but you couldn't care less, now with the man you were pinning over, foreheads against the other.
"Si.." you softly whisper. That nickname will be the death of him, you'll be the death of him. He crashes his lips on yours, not wanting to let go till you both were panting. You were too fucking sweet, your lips, your skin, everything. He wanted a taste and he got it...
"My lover's got humor, she's the giggle at a funeral. Knows everybody's disapproval, I should've worshiped her sooner"
Another sleepless night wasn't uncommon for someone like Simon.. however this aching feeling wasn't, he doesn't know where it's from or what it's about. Not until he heard you in the kitchen, letting out a giggle even though you knew better.
"If the Heavens ever did speak, She's the last true mouthpiece. Every Sunday's getting more bleak. A fresh poison each week "We were born sick"
That sweet fucking voice, like the angels speaking to him themselves. "Oh- I'm sorry Si, did I wake you up?" You asked, turning around to the sound of his footsteps.
That tiny nightdress of yours, a reminder of the night you spent together, that morning you slept in his bed.
Lashes beautifully displayed on the delicate skin of your under eyes. Soft noises while your chest was peacefully moving up and down with every breath.
"She tells me, "Worship in the bedroom". The only Heaven I'll be sent to, is when I'm alone with you I was born sick, but I love it Command me to be well. A, Amen, Amen, Amen"
"Simon.. Ahh~" you moan out softly, your body writhing underneath him. It felt hot, sweaty despite the well ventilated room, so intimate from something that was supposed to be the farthest thing from domestic.
"Shhh, you can take it sunshine.. You don't want the neighbors to hear us, do you?" Simon whispers, callous hand covering your mouth with as little pressure possible, you whimper at his words.
Closing your eyes to lose yourself in the pleasure you've never felt before. Your body being worshiped with gentle hands and soft kisses that leave marks by the very same man who kept distancing himself from you, now he'd stop at nothing for your pleasure.
"Take me to church, I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife, offer me that deathless death. Good God, let me give you my life."
"Simon.. no more–" you whined. Scratching his back hard enough to leave marks without being aware, he'd always imagine what those pretty pink nails could do to him.
"Just one more, please sunshine.. you remember our safe word right?" Simon asks for you to nod softly, you didn't have energy to take anymore. "I told you I'll make you feel good, didn't I? So be a good girl for me and take it, hmm?"
Your eyes roll back at his praise, your legs shake with one after another wave of pleasure running through your body. This man was starved.. insatiable.. who would be able to resist such a request? Not you.
"If I'm a pagan of the good times, my lover's the sunlight to keep the Goddess on my side. She demands a sacrifice, drain the whole sea, get something shiny"
It took everything in Simon not to worship the ground you walked on that night, he wasn't trying very hard, was he? Because always.. at the end of the night, you're in his bed, his mind, his life.
Was it really a sin? To want something you don't deserve? Simon stayed up that whole night, not a wink of sleep while thinking of whether this arrangement should continue. Every bone and organ in his body telling him to be selfish, take what was something that wasn't his to take.
"Something meaty for the main course, that's a fine looking high horse. What you got in the stable? We've a lot of starving faithful that looks tasty, that looks plenty, this is hungry work"
Simon's gaze, never faltering on your sleeping figure that he refuses to go anywhere but his own arms. He tries to close his eye to compose himself, free himself from the emotions you emit from him.
His efforts were to no use, all he saw was the image of you, sweetly smiling, those doe eye staring right through his soul.
"No masters or kings when the ritual begins. There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin In the madness, in the soil of that sad earthly scene. Only then I am human, only then I am clean"
You were getting too close for your own good, Simon knew that, he'll be damned if he let's himself hurt you. So he does what any stupid man would do, avoid you like the plague. Did it mean nothing? Were you just some fling, never to be talked about again?
Fuck you Simon Riley, he made you feel loved in bed like no man ever has or ever will, completely ruining your chance of ever thinking of anything else and that was just a hook-up session? Maybe this one time you can let yourself be delusional, was there really something more? Only one way to find out.
"Oh, oh, Amen, Amen, Amen, Take me to church, I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife, offer me that deathless death. Good God, let me give you my life"
You caught him, fucking finally, after days of waiting and trying to get him at the perfect time. "Si.." you whispered softly, you didn't know where to start. He took a quick glance at you before looking back at what he was doing.
"Simon Riley, don't fucking ignore me. Not after everything that happened those nights" You said, it was stern but he needed to hear it. It made him stop, think about what had happened.
Before he could generate a response, "Why?" You asked. It was a vague question, why was he ignoring you? Why does he feel this way? Why does he love you yet refuse to act on it?
"Take me to church, I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife, offer me that deathless death. Good God, let me give you my life.."
"You don't deserve a man like me, you deserve one who is like you, optimistic, sweet, fucking beautiful and alive.. A man who's not damaged, scarred, has blood on his hands and haunted by his past. A man who's not afraid to show his love for you. A man who won't put his burdens on your shoulders and a man who will take care of you instead of the other way around. That's what you deserve and I can't give that"
Everything felt like it came to a stop, were you hearing that right?
"You have no idea how much you contradict yourself, Si. How are you so sure that you haven't given those things to me already? You might not be like me but "like me" isn't what I want.. I want you, every flaw, every beautiful scar. Not once before your silent treatment have you hurt me, it's frustrating yes, but you are worthy of that. Every struggle, frustration and mistake, every bit of your love is worth all of that. I want you to see that Si, your actual true worth rather than what some psychotic fucker decided to torture you with"
"Boys, workin' on empty. Is that the kinda way to face the burning heat? I just think about my baby, I'm so full of love I could barely eat"
"Si?"
"Yes, Sunshine?"
"I love you" You whispered after smothering him in a plethora of kisses. Never has anything made Simon melt more in his life than his wife say that. Doesn't matter how long it's been, how much the both of you have been through or how much frustration the both of you were going through..
It will always stay the same, the feeling those three words give him, like the first time, every moment feels that way. Familiar, finally.. Home.
"There's nothing sweeter than my baby I'd never want once from the cherry tree. 'Cause my baby's sweet as can be, she give me toothaches just from kissin' me"
He always thought about how unfaithfulness was such a struggle between some people, he thought about how good he has it constantly, reflecting back on what he used to have to how now this is something he never thought he'd have or deserve.
"When my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold, dark earth. No grave can hold my body down, I'll crawl home to her"
When a man finds himself in the verge of embracing death's arms, what causes the struggle? What causes him to fight that pain, to keep on going? Not once has this crossed Ghost's mind.
No. He's not Ghost, he's Simon. Your Simon.
And you're expecting your Simon home, fuck everything else, he'll give the biggest "fuck you" to death itself and crawl home to you because he'll be damned and he'll experience everything he has in his life over and over again just to hold you again.
"Boys, when my baby found me I was three days on a drunken sin, I woke with her walls around me. Nothin' in her room but an empty crib and I was burnin' up a fever I didn't care much how long I lived, but I swear I thought I dreamed her. She never asked me once about the wrong I did."
It should matter, the amount of blood on his hands. Not once did you judge him for it, what the fuck was wrong with you? Giving a monster such as him a bath like he was some innocent stray kitten, although this time around it was far more messy. The dried blood caked underneath his finger nails.
Flashing him a tired smile while you wiped off the blood that made the water in the tub a hue of brownish-red. Taking your hand in his, his lips brushing against your knuckles. The way you looked at him was enough to make him cry.
"When my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold, dark earth. No grave can hold my body down, I'll crawl home to her"
"Fucking get up" Simon repeats to himself, "She needs you, she loves you" despite how many times he's convinced himself you didn't due to the voice of his father in his head, it felt like a knife twisting in his heart imagining how it would be for you without him.
How much you cried the night he came home a day later, you told him yourself, practically sobbing while clutching your aching chest and him with your other arm how you weren't ready for Price to show up at your doorsteps holding Simon's belongings.
He won't let that happen.. he can't...
"My babe would never fret none, about what my hands and my body done. If the Lord don't forgive me, I'd still have my baby and my babe would have me"
Simon knew it, no one would ever love him like you do. No one would show him the same acceptance, devotion, care, concern and love. It wasn't healthy to be so attached dependently to someone in love.
He couldn't help it, it felt so right, everything with you did. Never a judgmental one, at least towards him. Always first to hold him, the first to ever take away the heavy guilt that weighed his heart and shoulders down after he'd done something he knows he'll go to hell for, if it's even real
"When I was kissing on my baby and she put her love down soft and sweet In the low lamplight I was free. Heaven and hell were words to me"
Every inch was kissed, not a part wasn't worshiped. "So fuckin' beautiful, so sweet. All for me, hmm?" Simon mumbled against your skin, suckling on the soft sweetness that he so claims. All hickeys, no bruises.
Fuck, he'd not just survive but thrive on just you. No other sustenance, your supple thighs he adores to cover in purple, your neck, your lips and your skin that he often compares to sugar syrup in his head.
"When my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold, dark earth. No grave can hold my body down I'll crawl home to her"
The question was, was it worth it to live an eternity of lifetimes filled with suffer to be with you in at least once? The only answer to ever graze Simon Riley's lips was the word "yes", the day that changes is the day that he'd be the biggest bull-shiter the world has ever known.
Simon opened the door to your shared home, "Daddy!" A loud squeal wakes him up from his dread of what he's seen on the field.
"How's my little sunshine been? 'Ave you been good to your momma while I was gone?" Simon asked, carrying the little girl in his arms.
"Yes! Momma said we'd go to the park tomorrow as a reward for me helping out!" Little one saying it so proudly, Simon couldn't help but smile, beaming with pride as his little girl grows up to be what he recognizes as a good person.
"Simon..? You're finally home, I missed you so much" You said, peeking out the laundry room. You walked out, quick to give him a peck on the lips.
"I love you Si.."
"I love you too Sunshine"
Also this is a very long fic.. I expect long feedback.. @connorsui 👀
Does this make sense? Idk anymore it's like almost midnight and I'm running on a few hours of sleep. GOD MY PROM DRESS LOOKS SO GOOD, I CAN'T WAIT.
Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @shadofireshinobi @thelightdjinnofpalestine @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @fawnchives @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000 @iexiam @drewsmusee @konigceo
Trying out new dividers as well by @anitalenia
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emaciatedmilf · 1 year
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pain. agony. suffering, even
fuck recovery and everything it did to me. its time to get to fucking work. this is embarrassing
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AHHHHHHH
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baixueagain · 2 years
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Couldn’t help but notice this reblog in a certain recent “queer is a slur” discourse post.
Beyond being ahistorical, it is significant in its third paragraph, which is almost entirely made up with TERF and alt right dog whistles. For anyone who has even a basic idea of what to look for, this blogger has just outright shown their hand.
Let’s start from the beginning of the text I’ve marked in blue:
“a pedophilia and incest apologist”
This is a very handy tactic especially prevalent in alt-right rhetoric these days. It stigmatises anything it is attached to, in this case the person who coined the term “queer theory.” Topics like pedophilia and incest are extremely taboo and emotionally laden, and attaching them to a subject will cause many people to automatically distance themselves from that term out of a semi-instinctive desire to not associate themselves with such things. Spread this attachment widely enough, and you can push entire groups into abandoning terminology, praxis, and people.
For the record, I’m not sure of the source for this claim. The woman who coined the term “queer theory” was Teresa de Laurentis, and I’ve never seen anything by her which tries to excuse pedophilia or incest. She certainly wrote about the gendered nature of incest, but this was in no way laudatory. This may also be a reference to the work of Gloria Anzaldua, who helped further popularize the term. She spoke frankly and openly about her sexual fantasies, many of them of a taboo nature, because of her firm belief in de-stigmatizing discussions about human sexual behaviour. Not only are such fantasies extremely common, they are in no way apologetics for real life abuse, nor do they predict real life behaviour.
“a straight woman with a fetish for gay men”
We’ve gotten to the transphobic dogwhistle now. This is an accusation frequently used against trans men and nonbinary AFAB people, especially those who pursue relationships with men. With the current surge in transphobic public rhetoric, it has received a new breath of life, and trans mlm are currently facing a slew of accusations of being straight women/girls who have just fetishized gay men to the point that they’re trying to “become” gay men/boys themselves (CW: link leads to transphobic hate site genderhq.org). These accusations are even being used in queer circles--including by trans people--to gatekeep who “gets” to write fiction about mlm. Just a week ago, for example, queer writer Alex Marraccini accused indie trans mlm author Ana Mardoll of fetishizing mlm, claiming that Ana’s “fetishistic” writing isn’t nearly as groundbreaking or liberating as the work of real cis gay men.
I’m not sure who the blogger is referring to here as there’s no real consensus on who first used the term “queer studies.” However, I think they may be referring to Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick, who was most certainly not a straight woman. She was queer and came out as a trans man, though as far as I know continued to publicly prefer she/her pronouns (hence my own pronoun use here).
“use intentionally over academic language”
Ah, good old anti-intellectualism. If I can’t understand you, you must be using over-academic language just to confuse me on purpose. This dogwhistle not only gives people an excuse to dismiss anything they don’t understand straight away, it pushes the conspiracy theory that we academics are part of an ivory tower conspiracy to Queer Everything for...reasons (see below).
“to obfuscate that their founding texts and members are Marxists”
Aaaand here we are, the full show of the hand. This blogger is either alt-right or well down the pipeline to becoming one. The old chestnut that These Academics We Disagree With are all secret Marxists is one that is, you guessed it, strongly tied into antisemitism and Nazi conspiracies that push the belief that Karl Marx, Marxism, and Marxists are part of a global Jewish conspiracy that seeks to destroy the West.
And of course we have one more “incest and pedophilia” whistle to round things off, just to doubly ensure that people understandably disgusted by those things attach them to queer theorists.
Anyway, once again I beg the good people of Tumblr to please pay close attention to TERF rhetoric, where it comes from, how it’s used, and the other movements that it is tied to. I am not being a paranoid conspiracist when I say that “queer is a slur” discoursers and “pedophilia and incest” scaremongers and their ilk (including anti-kink discoursers) are tied to TERF rhetoric, which is itself allied increasingly with the alt right. They are telling you this for themselves. Listen to them when they tell you who they are.
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lowcal-bubblegum · 2 years
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Haiii im new to ed tumbler and this is my intreduction
Cw:69kg
1 Gw:55kg
2 gw:50kg
3 gw:45kg
Ugw:40kg
Age:13
Afab
Im looking for an coach
Im fat
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luminoustarlight · 5 months
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As Fate Would Have It | Chapter Two
It's your first day of work at Skywalker Enterprises.
◂ chapter one ▸ chapter three
rating: mature | pairing: dilf!anakin skywalker x afab!reader | wc: 3.7k | read on ao3
warnings: swearing, age-gaps, sexual fantasies
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The moms at St. Lucas Preparatory School are shameless. Single, divorced, and married women (and some men) alike can’t help but hold their breath when Anakin Skywalker steps onto campus. The dads are intimidated by him and the moms… well, let’s just say the moms have less than school appropriate thoughts about the billionaire. 
Anakin detests the end of the year. He hates being involved at the school. He doesn’t want to spend 2 hours of his day off packing meals in a crowded gymnasium with other parents who also don’t want to be there. 
He doesn’t want to make small talk or ask about Luke and Leia’s classmates because frankly, he doesn’t give a crap. The only children he likes are his own and he won’t pretend otherwise. 
“Mr. Skywalker,” Leia’s teacher, Ms. Clark sighs, “you are the only parent in my class who has yet to sign up for a slot at this year's Cranberry Sauce.” Cranberry Sauce is just the name the school gives the Thanksgiving Drive to make it sound more “fun”. 
Anakin gives his children a kiss on their foreheads and sends them through the school gates. Once they’re out of earshot, he addresses Leia’s teacher. “I already wrote a check to buy the damn food. Isn’t that sufficient?” 
“Mr. Skywalker,” Ms. Clark repeats with annoyance. If it were up to her, she’d let Anakin donate all of the money he wants in order to keep him from volunteering at school events. She thinks he’s arrogant, stuck-up, and far too handsome for any man to be. So she decides to loathe him since she can’t fuck him. But Headmaster Franklin is adamant Anakin attends the event. 
“I really insist that you participate for at least an hour at Cranberry Sauce next weekend. It is important for your children to see you involved at the school. At their school.” 
Anakin’s tall and broad stature seems to grow even larger at this statement. How dare this woman insinuate anything about him as a father? 
“You think I’m not involved in my childrens’ lives?” Anakin has just enough self-control not to completely raise his voice at his daughter’s fourth grade teacher. Especially since parents are continuing to drop off their kids. “You think I’m an absent father who gives the school money to compensate for my lack of paternal instincts?” 
“I didn’t say that,” Ms. Clark answers cautiously. “There is no need to make a scene. I have no doubts you are an excellent father, Mr. Skywalker. I don’t think Leia would be the young lady she is if you weren’t. One hour. That's all we ask.” 
Anakin raises an eyebrow. “We?” 
“Oh, um, well-” Ms. Clark stammers. Busted. She sighs with defeat. “Headmaster Franklin would very much like to see you there.”
“I’m sure he would,” Anakin replies smugly. Headmaster Franklin wants him there for publicity. Anakin should be more pissed about that than being accused of not being a present parent, but he’s not. He likes his ego stroked every now and then. “One hour.” 
“Thank you,” Ms. Clark smiles tightly. “Does 10-11 work for you?” 
“Fine,” Anakin waves his hand dismissively as he gets a message on his phone. 
Ben Kenobi 
Your new secretary is here. 
Shit. It’s Anakin’s first day without Dorothy. No wonder the morning has gone the way it has. Between Luke spilling orange juice on his shirt, Leia’s uncooperating French braids, and his conversation with Ms. Clark, Anakin can’t help but fear the change in routine with a new assistant. He types his response. 
Anakin Skywalker
Assistant. Not secretary. I’ll be there in 20 minutes. 
Ben Kenobi 
If you say so. 
Ben Kenobi is Anakin’s closest friend. Some might even call them brothers. Ben is fifteen years older than Anakin, married to the mayor, and enjoys fly fishing on the weekends. He’s also Luke and Leia’s godfather. Should anything happen to Anakin, there is no one else he’d trust to raise and watch over his children than Ben Kenobi. 
And Ben knows better than anyone that Anakin doesn’t like change. He’s been dreading Dorothy’s last day since she told him she was retiring a year ago. How was he going to find someone as good as her? Someone who anticipates his needs before he does? 
That’s why he tasked her with finding her own replacement. He’s just too busy to interview a replacement for Dorothy himself. He wouldn’t know what to look for, anyway. If he doesn’t know what he wants in a woman to date, how is he supposed to know what he wants in a new assistant? 
.
.
“Mr. Skywalker is not in at the moment. Can I take a message?” You’ve uttered that exact sentence at least seven times since you arrived at the office at 8:00 a.m. Now, as it nears 9:00, you expect to see your new boss very soon. 
Each time you hear the elevator ding, you look up with hopefulness at the arrival of the esteemed Anakin Skywalker. What will you say to him? How will you introduce yourself? Will he be nice and welcoming? God, you hope so. You’ve read just about every article, watched every interview, and listened to every podcast he’s done to prepare yourself for the job. The consensus is the same in all of them. 
Anakin Skywalker is generous, he’s polite, and generally gets along with everyone— if you don’t get on his nerves. And, according to Dorothy, he’s a charmer. 
“Yes, absolutely,” you say while taking notes of the message on a legal pad. Your head is down so you don’t notice Anakin walking out of the elevator. He stops 5 steps away from your desk. His ribs feel like they’re collapsing around his lungs because of that voice. Why does he know that voice? 
“I will let Mr. Skywalker know you called as soon as he gets into the office.” You hang up the phone and as you look up, there he is in all of his gorgeous glory. 
You actually have to tell yourself to take a breath because he’s even more handsome in person. Faint lines around his eyes represent years of life he lived before you were born. His dark blonde hair is combed back effortlessly and is it wrong that you want to run your hands through it? Yeah, probably. He’s your boss and over twenty years older than you. 
“It’s-” Anakin can’t even say more than that because holy fuck. Is he dreaming? He squeezes his eyes and then opens them, only to see you now standing with your hand extended to him. “It’s… you.” 
“Um, yes,” you say while awkwardly returning your arm to your side. “I’m Y/N. Your new assistant. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Skywalker.” 
“I- um, yes,” Anakin clears his throat. Christ, that wasn’t even a sentence. “I need to take care of something,” he says on his way towards his office. “I am not to be disturbed until I come out. Do you understand?” 
“Y-yes. Yes, sir,” you barely answer before Anakin’s office door is shut violently. Well, that certainly wasn’t the introduction you were expecting or hoping for. You’re starting to think not meeting him beforehand was a bad idea. It honestly should’ve been a red flag but Dorothy insisted it was fine. 
It doesn’t seem fine. 
And things definitely aren’t fine. For Anakin, that is. To say he’s freaking out is putting it lightly. He paces the length of his office, shoving his fingers through his hair and muttering to himself. “It can’t be. There’s no way it can be her.” 
Maybe he’s hallucinating. Maybe he’s having an incredibly vivid dream where his favorite OnlyFans performer, who he has known as HoneySuckle for the last three years is his new assistant. What did you say your name is? Anakin couldn’t hear you over the erection that was forming in his pants because he knows your voice. He’s cum from your voice alone. He’s cum because of you so, so many times. 
This can’t be happening. 
He’s never seen your entire face but he knows it’s you. He’d recognize your lips in a police lineup. He hears your voice in his wet dreams. He just knows it’s you. 
And the fact that he has a hard-on is a problem. A problem he wishes you could take care of but you can’t because now you work for him and he’s your boss. This is all so, so wrong. 
Anakin doesn’t so much sit on his leather chair as he does collapse into it. This was never supposed to happen. Yes, he has dreamed about meeting you on more than one occasion. He’s thought about telling you who he is during your countless direct messages so many times. He’s thought about using his infinite resources to find out who you really are on more than one occasion.
But he always concluded that it would be so insanely wrong and borderline creepy if he did that. You were always supposed to remain a fantasy. Just a nameless woman on a screen who doesn’t live in the same country, state, or city as him. 
Yet here you are— sitting outside of his office, taking his calls, calling him Mr. Skywalker and being even more beautiful than he could have imagined. 
You are no longer the woman on his tablet spewing filthy words as you make yourself orgasm. You’re tangible. You have a name- although he can’t remember what it is. He replays the interaction over in his head. The feeling he felt when he saw you was reminiscent of seeing his wife walk down the aisle at their wedding. He was a blundering mess then, just as he is a blundering mess now. 
He doesn’t even want to think about your first impression of him. He’s supposed to be Anakin Skywalker for crying out loud! The suave, handsome millionaire who has the ability to make men cower and women fall to their knees. The embarrassment he feels from that interaction is enough to subdue his hard-on. He pours himself a bit of Bourbon, shoots it back like it’s a normal thing to do at 9 in the morning, and prepares to reintroduce himself to you. 
Anakin smooths his hands down his slacks before opening his door. As his eyes are magnetized to you, his heart starts beating irregularly. Get a fucking grip. 
You stand attentively when you notice Anakin walking towards you. Worried you made a terrible impression on him, you wait to speak. But Anakin doesn’t say anything either and now he’s standing in front of your desk, all tall and lean and smelling like Cedar and Whiskey. He’s looking at you with an expression you can’t read. Did Dorothy tell him anything about you? Or did he go into this just as blind as you did? 
His eyes seem to dance all over your body which makes you feel like he’s studying you. Or criticizing every single thing about your appearance. From your simple burgundy dress to the pearl studs you bought with some of Skyguy81’s most recent (and overly generous) tip. 
Finally, because his gaze on you was becoming too much to bear, you are the one to talk first. “Is there something I can do for you, Mr. Skywalker?” 
Yeah, you can remind him of your name for starters. “Do you have messages for me?” is what he asks instead. 
“Yes,” you answer, picking up the pad you’ve been scribbling notes on for the last hour. “Rex sent over the final schematics for the 0525 project that needs your approval by 3 p.m. today in order to begin production. Mayor Kryze’s office called about the upcoming Gala in December and wanted to know if you would be in attendance. And if so, how many tickets should they reserve? Oh, and someone from St. Lucas Preparatory School called to let you know that your son ripped his pants and needs a new pair brought to school because they don’t have any new pants in his size.” 
Anakin taps his index finger on your desk while he listens to you. He barely registers anything you say because it’s really hard to hear your voice without getting aroused. It’s hard even looking at you without automatically picturing you naked. There’s not an inch of your skin he’s never seen. Well, except for the top half of your face which now, of course, he has seen. And God, does he love what you have to offer. 
You’re still relaying messages but suddenly you’re bent over your desk, gripping the edge of it with pale knuckles as Anakin slams into you over, and over, and over. He’s making you yelp his name so loudly the whole building can hear you. 
“Mr. Skywalker?” 
Anakin snaps back into reality where you’re still fully clothed and definitely not moaning his name. “What?” comes out a little harsher than he intended. And he immediately regrets it when he sees you visibly shrink right before him. 
“What- what would you like me to tell the Mayor’s office?” 
Anakin has gone as a bachelor to the last two Christmas Galas. Ben stays close to Satine the whole night and he really doesn’t see the point in asking a woman he has no interest in to be his date. Plus, going alone lets him leave the party with whomever he wants or to call it a night and go home early to watch ELF and drink peppermint cocoa with his kids. 
“Have them put me down for 2.” 
You nod whilst making another note on the pad. “And what about your son’s pants?” 
“Did they say where he ripped them?” 
“Right down the middle,” you answer. 
Anakin shakes his head. “Oh, Luke,” he mutters to himself. “Alright, I’ll go home and get him a new pair.” 
“Icandoit,” rushes out of your mouth. 
“What?” 
“Sorry, my mouth moved faster than my brain,” you reply, hoping Anakin will find it endearing instead of annoying. “I said I can do it. I don’t mind. It’s my job, isn’t it?” 
Anakin opens his mouth but doesn’t say anything. Yes, technically it’s your job to do this sort of errand. But Anakin doesn’t want you going to his house alone, sifting through his son’s drawers, and bringing him new pants to his school. 
Primarily because he’d much rather you be in his home under different circumstances. 
“We’ll go together,” Anakin decides against his better judgment. “I’ll drive.”
.
.
.
So, Anakin definitely didn’t think things through when he said he’d drive. 
In what world did he think sharing a close, confined space with you was a good idea? This whole morning has been a cluster-fuck. Honestly. He’s still struggling to wrap his head around who you are. When you announced Squirting for Sky was going to be your last video, he thought what a devastation it would be to not look forward to your videos every week. Who would’ve thought you’d be the one replacing his dear old assistant the very next week? The odds of it all are overwhelming. 
But isn’t this what he’s always wanted? The opportunity to meet you? To know your name and know you personally? Every wish of his has been granted— except for the fact that he is your boss and you are technically his subordinate. He says technically because Dorothy always felt more like family than an employee. 
You could be family. 
You could be so much more than his assistant.
Oh, Jesus Christ, Anakin. Be reasonable. She’s your employee. She’s practically a kid. 
Anakin looks over to you for the first time since getting in the car. You’re pressed against the side of the passenger door, knees angled away from him and arms crossed over your chest. “Are you cold?” 
“Oh,” you say, looking at him with a tentative smile. “A little.” 
“You should’ve said so,” Anakin turns on the heater and your seat warmer. “My kids call seat warmers butt toasters. Let me know if your butt gets too toasty.” 
You have to bite your lip to keep from laughing. 
There’s an awkward pause as Anakin realizes what he just said. He absolutely cannot think about your butt any longer than he has to because we all know how that will end.
 (A hard cock, in case that wasn’t clear). 
 “I mean, uh- shit,” Anakin briefly closes his eyes to compose himself. Let me know if your butt gets too toasty? 
“Just turn it off yourself if you get too warm.” 
Do you make him nervous? No way. You decide to let it go. “Kids? Plural?” 
“Yeah.” Anakin drapes his right arm over the center console and taps his fingers against the gear shift. Long, dexterous fingers at that. You have to look away before you start thinking about something completely inappropriate of your boss. “I have twins. A boy and a girl. Luke, he’s the silly one. Right now he’s big into archeology. He’s also pretty clumsy, hence the rip in his pants. And Leia, my daughter, she’s far too serious for any 9 year old to be. She says she wants to be a senator when she grows up.” 
This is the longest you’ve been able to look at Anakin without feeling your cheeks burning. Now, they’re just hot because of the heater blasting in your face. “You light up when you talk about them,” you say. “You must love them a lot.” 
“More than anything,” Anakin doesn’t hesitate. “Here we are.” 
You should’ve been paying attention on how to get to his house from the office. Surely, you’ll be running these errands on your own if things go well with your employment. Oh, well. That’s what the Maps is for. 
Anakin’s house is a stunning Eichler. It looks straight out of an Architectural Digest cover. The lawn outside is perfectly cropped and perfectly green but littered with a soccer ball, football, a baseball bat and whiffle balls. You wouldn’t have pegged Anakin for a mid-century modern kind of guy. You would’ve thought he’d opt for an insanely modern, sterile house. 
As you walk through the atrium and into the main body of the house, it’s clear it is a family home. Anakin uses his foot to sweep his kids’ shoes out of the way so you don’t trip over them. “Sorry about the mess.” 
“It’s okay,” you shrug. Anakin’s house isn’t even all that messy. It just looks like a home. There are so many pictures on the walls, it would be impossible to look at all of them in one go. One in particular, though, catches your eye. It’s the largest out of all of them and the only one in black and white. A significantly younger Anakin is at the bedside of who you presume to be his wife with two bundles of babies in their arms. They are both looking down and smiling. His wife was stunning. They definitely made an attractive couple. 
It’s not lost on you that there are no other pictures of Anakin’s kids with their mom. He’s only spoken about his wife’s death in one interview, about a year after her passing. If you remember correctly, she died shortly after the twins were born. 
You can’t imagine the kind of pain and heartache Anakin must have felt losing his wife. You don’t know what it feels like to experience that kind of grief. You want to tell Anakin you’re sorry for his loss, but what good will that do? Is there any consolation in that at all? 
You’re still looking at the photo when Anakin returns from Luke’s room with a new pair of tan pants. You can feel his presence right beside you and the silence is louder than words. 
He shouldn’t have brought you back here. It’s only your first day and you’ve already seen too much of his life. 
“Let’s go,” Anakin orders. You nod without a word and follow him out to the car. 
The tension in the air is palpable on your way to St. Lucas Prep. You feel like you’ve done something wrong by simply stepping foot in Anakin’s house. His whole demeanor shifted when he came back to the front room with Luke’s pants. Does he regret bringing you to the house? If so, why? Dorothy clearly laid out your responsibilities to you. Tending to personal matters at Anakin’s house is part of the job. You are not just a professional assistant, but a personal assistant, too.
You can’t stand not knowing why someone is upset with you. “Did I do something wrong?” 
Anakin’s grip on the steering wheel tightens. “No.” 
Wow, how reassuring. “Okay, then why do I feel like I did something to upset you?” 
You’re really pressing your limit with him right now. You’ve only just met 2 hours ago. See, this is why meeting him should’ve been part of the hiring process. You’d be a lot more acquainted with each other than you are right now. 
If only you knew how acquainted Anakin is with you… 
“You didn’t,” is all he says. But with a twitch of his jaw, you still feel like he’s not telling you the truth. 
“Look, Mr. Skywalker,” you begin. “I understand Dorothy meant a great deal to you, and her leaving is going to be an adjustment. But I promise you I am capable of this job. I’m never late, I’m up late all the time so if there was anything you needed, I’d be able to fulfill it. I love kids, I’m a hard worker and I would really appreciate it if you gave me a chance before making any decisions about me.” 
“You’re right,” Anakin says. “I’ll give you a chance.”  But he’s already made up his mind. He doesn’t have to ‘give you a chance’ to know that he wants you. He is crawling out of his skin with how badly he wants you. And he knows it’s wrong, probably immoral, but he really doesn’t care. Because now that you’ve been inside of his home, the boundary that should exist between him as your boss and you as his employee feels impossibly blurry.
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◂ series masterlist ▸ chapter three
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alientee · 5 months
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This is rated 18+ just in case minors don’t interact Maugaxreader
🌋🌋🌋🌋🌋🌋🌋🌋🌋🌋🌋🌋🌋🌋🌋🌋🌋🌋
I’ve had Mauga brain rot since he came out and there not enough fan fiction for me so I’m weighting this because it’s a funny thought I had in my mind I may even make it into a series. Reader is AFAB. Mauga x reader, some fluff, just a lil smut (barley) maybe more in the future enjoy!!!!!
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You were relatively new to overwatch, but you were strong. The team knew you had their back, and that’s all that mattered; it also helped you have omnikinesis. But you couldn’t control it that well; you were unstable.
That’s why you reached out to overwatch, to control yourself before you hurt the others around you again. It’s a good thing they found out about you before talon or who knows what could have happened?
Speaking of Talon, you are having a team fight against them now. They tried to destroy another omnic and human peace event. Some of the richest humans and omnics were attending.
So you, Ana, Mei, Winston, and Lifeweaver were on guard duty. And lo and behold, here comes Sigma, Sombra, Reaper, Moria and some other big guy you didn’t know to ruin the party. Everyone began to run around in the grand dining room.
Sombra was hacking communications, so you couldn’t check on your backup. Mei and Ana were dealing with Reaper, and Moria, Winston, and Lifeweaver were dealing with Sombra and Sigma. That left you with the hulking, raging giant with tribal tattoos.
You quickly dodge his machine guns, using everything around you in the room as a shield. You quickly hide, trying to regain yourself; if you lose focus, you lose control.
“HEY HEY HEY WHERE DID YOU GO?!”
You hear smashing and bullets flying, trying to think of a plan in your head.
“EITHER YA COME OUT OR I START SETTING SHIT ON FIRE YOUR CHOICE HAHAHA!”
“Ok your completely insane” You whispered
You snuck around the hulking hot head. You hype yourself up to do a sneak attack that hopefully won’t take down the whole building. You focus on all the skylights and chandlers, bringing them down on top of the hulking man before jumping on his back, ready to detain him.
Until you were encased in darkness.
You find yourself squished by the man who was trying to kill you just moments ago. You were lying on his chest and straddling his waist while he was scrunched up and bent forward. You look up at him, seeing the snarl on his face.
“Ummmmmm hi there” , his eyes narrowed at you.
“What the fuck did you do!”.
You look at him startled and confused. “What do you mean I thought this was you?”
He looks like he’s about to yell at you again untill you both hear somthing.
“(Y/N)! Can you hear me!” It was Ana “YES!”
“Sigma got you two stuck in there!”
The large man shouted right in my ear while his chest rumbled underneath me. “HE DID WHAT!”
“Ah Mauga my friend would you like to hear about my new project. I was trying to trap the other one but you’ll make a great tester as well!” you could hear the collective sighs outside.
“It’s a black cube! One could say it’s a miniature black hole, but not a black hole at all, just a void in cuboid shape. It’s supposed to hold matter and keep it stabilized in place. It’s purpose is to hold things until it fully disappears on its own. Can you hear the melody within the universe? ”
You could feel the man named Mauga stiffen beneath you, you stiffen as well.
“Does that mean we dissapear to!” You scream
“Hmm possibly or maybe it will disappear without you in it the possibilities are endless.”
Your about to speak again when you hear Mauga grunt, you look up seeing him move his head down, that’s when you realize it’s shrinking now.
“It’s shrinking now!”
“Don’t worry (Y/N) given the circumstances we will work together until your both out”
“Don’t die in there Mauga I still have use for you” You shiver hearing Moria speak in such a way it’s gross.
You look up and see Mauga looking annoyed and uncomfortable “I’m sorry”
“Why you didn’t do nothing”
“It’s just that, if it shrinks without disappearing you’ll die. I could probably protect myself if I think of a way but I don’t know how it would affect you I can’t fully control my powers.” All he does is hum in response.
“(Y/N)! Can you use your powers to force the cube open!” Now that’s and idea but before you could even think about it Sigma speaks again.
“If you try to force a black hole to seperate it may disrupt everything around it destroying us all”
but sigma speaks again “But if she uses her powers and makes a black whole within a black hole?”
“Then Mauga dies, it would be such a waist but it may be an easier option” Moria spoke again, you could see Mauga rolling his eyes “Fuck you”
You look back up at Mauga you can still see the cube slightly shrinking again. “Mauga who are you?” He looks at me confused not saying a word. You sigh and speak again.
“If I’m going watch someone die in a cube I at least want to know them.”
You can’t help but stare into his eyes; he looks very handsome. Just something about him being a giant hunk of muscle with a sharp tooth smirk had you enticed.
He looks at you and puts a smirk on telling you the basics: he fought a war, he got two hearts, he lives his life as he pleases, and the rest is history.
You learned he liked video games, he takes pride in being strong and actually works out, letting you know he’s not an experiment with Moria, he’s a hot head but he’s passionate, and you even learned you both own a pair of shark slides.
The cube really did seem to be some type of black hole because you lost track of time and talked for what seemed like hours.
“Since you wanna know me so bad you mind doing me a favor” you nod looking at him
“If I die in here do something for me” You stiffen and look away sadly; you didn’t want to think about him dying in here, especially being responsible for someone’s last wishes.
You may be able to save yourself with your powers, but not at the expense of Mauga's life. You could only hope you would get out before then.
“I need you to tell Bap that I was mad at him for trying to blow me up and for leaving me behind. I was willing to drag his ass back; I missed him. Tell him the next time he grows a conscience, don’t skip out on your friends.” You looked at him confused, but nonetheless agreed.
“Ummm ok I’m not even going to get into that, is that all” He looks away and ponders “Make sure my turtle plush and guns are buried with me to and make my funeral a celebration of me not some sad ass drag of a day”
“Considering we’re technically supposed to be enemy’s I don’t think I’ll be able to plan that who knows what they’d do to your body, but I’ll try my best”
“That’s all I ask”
We stare into each others eyes what seems like forever. Until he leans down more moving his forhead to mine “One more thing?”
You look into his eyes shyly looking away when his gaze got to intense. He looks at me giving me a wink and that damned smirk of his. “What is it?”
“I always said if I died, I’d be on my terms. I wanted go out happy with a gun in each hand and a smile on my face. But right now I think the only thing that could make me happy is if I was taken care of by a beautiful lady?”
You blush looking at him with wide eyes “Are you asking me to have sex with you!?”
“Can’t really do that in this position doll” He’s laughing his ass off, you want to wipe that smirk off his face.
“Then what do you mean?”
He looks down your breast and you blush getting and idea of what he wanted. “If you could let me lay my face in those big tits of yours that’s a way to go” he smirks.
You feel your blush go from your face to your neck. “We don’t even know if your going to die Mauga, they could be done getting us out any minute.”
You listen outside to see if I can hear anything.
“We are not destroying the cube Moria!”
“Why not Mauga can be replaced and that girl can cause the destruction of our universe she’s a liability and a threat”
You could only mumble under your breath. “Your ugly face is a liability and a threat to everyone’s day and stomach”
You hear Mauga chuckle. “Don’t worry I’ll make sure to fuck up all her lab shit if I get out of this”.
You noticed his words if. And you couldn’t deal with that. If he died you’d have been to useless to stop it and in that moment you didn’t want to think about him dying.
You can see the cube shrinking more but Mauga doesn’t make a sound of discomfort, it’s like he doesn’t want to bother you every time the cube gets smaller.
“Hey Mauga”
“What’s up?”
You wrap your arms around his broad shoulders and push his face down into your breast. You don’t know what possessed you, but the thought of giving him his last wishes made you confident in your decision.
Mauga snuggles his head in your chest. You hold him there pushing his head down , not wanting him to see your blushing face making this even more awkward.
As if he can sense your distress Mauga motor boats your chest making you laugh. “Hahaha what the heck Mauga!”
“Just enjoying my new home. I love it here.”
He pushes his face deeper in your breast, inhaling your sent. “Hmmmm I really love it here” You feel him lick your chest.
“Mauga! W-what are you doing”
You pull back to find him looking at you with lust in his eyes and a shit eating smirk.
“You looked nervous I wanted to break the ice. I want you to enjoy this too. Can I?”
You don’t know if it was the way he looked at you, or because this was the first time you’ve felt a man’s touch like this, or maybe it was the fact that you wanted to help him; either way you nodded your head giving him the green light.
He puts his forehead against yours once more. “I need words sweetie, tell me what you want”
You look down refusing to make eye contact “I want you to touch me Mauga”
He slowly moves in and kisses your lips, his lips are surprisingly soft he pulls back biting your bottom lip. He moves his face down back to your breast, kissing and biting them slightly, leaving read marks on your skin. You use the front of your hands to pull down the top of your dress, thanking yourself the dress you had on didn’t require you to wear a bra.
He looks up at you as he slowly licks around your breast, taking a nipple in his mouth. His hands cant reach your chest so he settles on placing them on your ass.
Your eyes roll back in pleasure as he suckles on your nipple, his tongue flicking against it softly. He gropes your ass, squeezing your cheeks roughly. You can’t help but moan softly in his ear.
He releases your nipple with a loud pop giving the same attention to the other while nibbling it.
You can feel something slightly poke at you. You realized Mauga got hard. He felt so big even behind his pants. You slightly raised yourself to sit on top of his dick and begin to grind on his erection.
Hoping to give him and yourself some relief, your panties were soaking wet from the attention. You didn’t want to think about the wet spot you were about to leave on his pants.
“Fuck~, you feel so good sweetheart.”
You were about to respond but the cube starts to shake rapidly. You quickly pull your dress up and hold on to Mauga. All you can think about is his safety wanting to put both of you in a shield that could protect you no matter what.
And it seemed like your powers agreed. Because the next thing you know, you and Mauga are in a giant bubble floating above everyone.
He’s looking at you with wide eyes his frown turning into a giant smirk. “I made you feel so good you broke the cube huh”
Your embarrassment must have faulted your concentration, because you two instantly fell from the sky. You land on top of him in front of everyone making it even more awkward.
Everyone looked down at you two before you quickly got up and walked towards your team while covering yourself, just incase you didn’t put your dress on quite right. Reaper spoke up
“Next time you all die”
Ana spoke before anyone else “Oh shut up Gabriel I’m sick of the death jokes”
As they begin to leave Mauga turns towards you giving you a wink.
“It was fun sweetheart”. And he walks away with the rest of talons members.
Mei spoke up while everyone else looked at me “Did he hurt you (y/n)?”
“No he didn’t, he’s just messing with me”
They all nodded and we all begin to retreat back to headquarters. You could only guess sombra hacked everything before you even tried to get back up because no one showed. You started to wonder if you’d ever see Mauga again.
That thought alone made you blush. Lifeweaver tapped your shoulder. He gave you a smirk showing you he was laughing at you. You look at him confused wondering what was so funny.
“What is it?”
He leaned down and whispered in your ear.
“I hope he wasn’t to rough with you”
You looked at him in horror and confusion how could he even know! You looked down to your chest seeing dark red marks all over your breast.
Dammit Mauga!
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notsogothgf · 8 months
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You're Gonna Kill For Me Or Die For Me
Johnny Slaughter X AFAB Reader⭐18+ MDI⭐
CW: Blood, Gore, kidnapping
CHPT: 1 Escaping Basement
Oh god things couldn’t have possibly gotten any worse. Every corner I turned the rooms looked the same, filled with blood and bones. I was never going to make it out of here. To think I actually listened to Leland. I just wanted to help Ana look for her sister, but of course this lug head wanted to check out the man with the beat up truck coated in blood. How they never got pulled over for questioning is beyond me. We went poking our noses where we shouldn’t have. Now I’m stuck in a stupid basement full of god knows what. I especially didn’t want to know who or what these bones came from. It was freaking me out the longer I was around them.I tried my best to avoid touching the bones in between the doors. Trying even harder to distance myself from the maniac with a chainsaw. While peering down the dark tunnel ahead I failed to hear the footsteps behind me.Two hands quickly grabbed at me one keeping me quiet and the other holding me still. Gasping and grabbing the hand around my mouth the assailant spoke.
“Sh sh shhh. It’s just me sweetheart.” It was Leland.
I quickly turned around punching him in the chest, “Jesus Christ you oaf you scared the shit outta me!” He smiled, wrapping his arms around me. 
Overcome with so many emotions: fear, anger, sadness, maybe even a little bit of guilt. I held him tightly, shedding a few tears not knowing if this would be our last hug alive.
“Hey now it’s gonna be okay we’re going to make it out of here. Okay?” He held my face wiping my tears with his thumbs.
I nodded, leaning into his palms.
“Now, I’ve made up a couple bone shanks to keep us safe. We just need to stick together and find a way out.” Leland gave my face one last squeeze before letting go.
I let him lead the way as I felt like I was only going round in circles. Before moving too far he handed me one of those bone shanks. I didn’t pay much attention where we were going, opting instead to watch and listen for that rattling chainsaw. The smell of decay and mildew was overwhelming. Made me miss the smell of home real bad, hell I just missed home in general. Bet Ma is worried sick. Leland stopped quickly shooting an arm out to grab me pulling me in a closet. About to open my mouth and question him, the look he shot me told me I needed to be quiet. Holding my breath and looking out of the little slit I saw the owner of the pick up truck slinking by. 
“M’ on yer tail I know y'all ‘r round here somewhere..”
Looking at Leland with wide eyes he just put a finger to his lips. The heavy thuds of his boots circled behind us heading down the rest of the hall. Leland peaked his head out first, slowly stepping out and offering me a hand. Taking it and following him back down the hall opposite of that psycho path. We ended up in what seemed to be the room.
“You see that tin thing? I need ya to open that for me. You know how butter fingered I am” He nodded towards what looked like a pigpen door.
I slowly opened the pen crawling through into the red lit room. I gasped as I saw all the different skulls littering the walls. He crawled out right beside me letting out a small ‘oh god.’ He quickly turned my head and led me to the large metal door.
“Do not turn around, understand me.” He stated as he started fiddling around with the lock on the door.
Everything in me wanted to turn around. “Why?” I whispered. 
He sighed, shaking his head, “ It’s- It’s Ana. Now please don’t look darlin’.”
I needed to know what he meant by the way he sounded. It couldn't have been good. What if I just did a quick look no longer than two seconds? I did and I wish I wouldn’t have. Grabbing Leland’s shoulder and letting out a sob. Ana was sat on some kind of meat hook. Limp. There was blood all around her. Leland sniffled, still picking the lock as he knew I looked and couldn’t spare the time to stop. This was no longer just some scary prank but a fight for our lives. Once the lock popped open he hugged me tightly. He pulled away, grabbing my face lightly.
“We’re gonna make it out of here and we’re gonna go get help. Whatever happens I love you and ‘m sorry I dragged you into this mess.” He kissed me softly.
He was always so gentle with me.” I love you too. Nothings gonna happen. Ya hear?”
Nodding he gave me one last squeeze before letting go. “Now I’m gonna open this door and we’re gonna book it. Do. Not. Stop. Running.”
I wasn’t ready but I had to be if we were going to make it out of here. Leland counted on his fingers as soon as it hit three he flung the door open and started sprinting. I fell behind not being able to keep up with his long strides. I had no idea where we were headed. I just knew I didn’t want to lose sight of him. Playing football really paid off for him though he was fast and agile. He ran through the maze of doors and bones until we stopped at what we thought was the front door. Grabbing the door knob twisting and pulling. It was locked.
“Shit, I don’t have a lock pick.” He whispered.
“I don’t either.” I looked around closely trying to find anything worth using, but not leaving the room. I fear if I did I’d get lost.
“Leland the stairs.” I point to a staircase leading to the second floor. “Maybe we kind find somethin there.”
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satansfavoritedyke · 1 year
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Not to disability post on main or anything but I'm just about sick and fucking tired of so-called "medical professionals" who are supposedly "specialists" (i.e. rheumatologists, for example), thinking they can slap me with a myofascial pain syndrome/fibromyalgia/chronic fatigue/hypermobility diagnosis, tell me to stop eating gluten, and call that a done and dusted day on the job when those diagnoses don't even BEGIN to explain the majority of my symptoms.
What about the fact that I randomly run low-grade fevers with no evidence of other infections (flu/COVID/RSV), what about my positive ANA factor, what about my low igA levels, what about my chronic iron deficiency anemia, what about my MULTIPLE documented activated EBV infections that have damaged my spleen, what about the fact that I have no reflexes in my knees, I could literally keep fucking going.
I'm so fucking sorry that I'm a fat AFAB trans person with the kind of disabilities that land me in medical appointments multiple times a week, but a doctor who hasn't cracked a fucking textbook since 1997 does not know more about my condition than me, the person living with my symptoms 24/7. And quite frankly I'm not going to be jammed into a diagnosis like fibromyalgia which is the clinical equivalent of "fuck off and die" disorder and a classic excuse to just categorize and disregard patients with complex symptoms when doctors don't want to do their JOBS to figure out what's actually wrong. There is something wrong with my immune system and I need TREATMENT, not a convenient label to send me to my grave with. I refuse to be a docile "ideal patient" and I am not afraid to be a "doctor shopper" either, because what I think medical professionals forget is that Y'ALL work for ME and I CAN and WILL fire you if you're fucking useless.
DO. FUCKING. BETTER.
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