#“Send her to a therapist” the dr says

[oracleoutlook]

*Trying to knock something off the to do list. Starts researching Alderian Psychology*

I was trying to close tabs, not open more!

[archersartcorner]

A WIP of a comic thingy I’m workin on cus I’m impatient. Sometimes you have an OC who’s specifically there to be inserted into universes where Your Blorbo Needs A Therapist. Doc Laanka’s got her work cut out for her with these two…

… kinda.

[sentientcave]

Retirement Party

Interlude A

Read on AO3

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Contains: No Y/N (2nd POV but Reader is an OC), Kidnapping, Forcible relocation, Plus-sized Reader/OC, female Reader/OC, John goes to mandated therapy, Manipulation, domestic daydreams, abuse of CIA connections, hey Kate's here!

~3.3k - MDNI - Less of a darkfic at this point, but just be mindful

It’s strange to be back in London.

John still comes here once a week— A staunch refusal to switch to a new therapist, even if it would save him the short flight from Aberdeen Airport every Friday, his whole day eaten away by travel and the hour appointment with Dr. Clara.

He doesn’t like her. She thinks he’s stubborn and resistant.

She’s probably right.

For the first time, he thinks it might be a good idea to switch. Or stop coming in personally, conduct therapy online. Being away from Dalisay bothers him. He doesn’t like that she’s alone in the house. If something happened, he’d be so far away. She’d seen him off, kissed him at the door, said she’d make dinner for when he got back. She wasn’t going anywhere. She didn’t want to. He had to trust her, even if it was a difficult thing to do.

It would probably kill him if he came home to an empty house.

“How have you been, John?” Kate’s voice on the phone sounds worried. He must have been in bad shape when he saw her last week. He hardly remembers. He feels like his old self again, centred, steady.

“Good. Better. Soap introduced me to someone.” Introduced being a generous term for what happened. “She’s been stayin’ with me.”

“You’re seeing someone?” The surprise in her voice is palpable. “John—”

“She’s somethin’ special, Kate. You’d like her.”

Kate hums in a way that implies that she doesn’t believe him. “What’s her name?” she asks, faux-casual. She wants to look Doll up.

“Dalisay Valmorida.” In truth, he wants to know more too. Without any resources, he couldn’t find much. Doll kept her social media private, and snooping through her email hadn’t revealed much of anything either, except lead him to a totally anonymized profile on a kink website that told him that she was interested in submission and ropes (could she be any more perfect?), and had a few pictures of the prettiest tits he’d ever seen. She has a tattoo on her ribs, apparently, floral and intricate, and he wants to drag his teeth over it. Hopes he gets a chance to. “But I’m not worried. She’s a sweetheart, Kate.”

“She’s staying with you?”

“Yeah.” He wracked his brain for something that wouldn’t sound both criminal and insane. "She was living in a bad neighbourhood, and lost her nanny job. Soap—”

Kate makes an amused sound. “Thought you needed looking after, huh?”

“Somethin’ like that. We were in a position to help each other, I s’pose.”

“How long has she been there? You didn’t mention her when I saw you last week.”

“She’s only been there since Friday night. Her place got broken into, we moved up the timeline.”

“There’s something you’re not telling me.”

“Kate, there’s lots of things I’m not telling you.

“John, when you say you’re seeing her…”

“It’s new. It’s nice. I have a good feeling about Doll. I’m trying not to rush things, but you know me.”

“Well. Let’s grab lunch after your session. I’ll see what I can dig up before then. Usual place?”

“Sounds perfect.”

“Alright. See you then.” She hangs up, brusque as ever.

He gets off the tube at the next stop and walks to the low-rise office building his therapist works out of. Greets Brenda that works the front desk, sits in the waiting room. He’s fifteen minutes early, just like always.

He sends Doll a text while he’s waiting, just asking how her morning’s going, and gets a response almost right away, a picture of the puppy they’d gone to see last week. The picture’s blurry, the pup too excited to hold still.

Doll: Mel came by after she dropped the kids off at school. We’re having tea at hers (:

John: Have fun, sweetheart.

His chest loosens a bit. She wasn’t planning on leaving him. She’s making friends with his friends, putting down tentative roots. He didn’t have to worry. He didn’t have to worry. He thinks about talking to Melissa about adopting the little thing. Seeing Doll coo and fuss over a puppy would probably make him act like a fool, but she’s been forgiving about the more honest things he’s said so far.

"John?" Dr. Clara calls him in. "Nice to see you. How was your trip down?"

"Fine. Same as always." John sits in the usual chair, and looks around the room like usual, clocking everything in it's usual space, except the tissue box on the table and a trashcan sitting closer to the chair than it’s usual position. Every other week the appointment just before his is a watery sort of woman, but he had been looking at his phone rather than at the door, letting himself relax enough to not notice the woman leave the room. "How are you?" Its a perfunctory question, going through the motions of politeness.

"Good." Dr. Clara settles into her own chair, notebook out. She's close to his age, beautiful in a cold, precise sort of way. Thin, a perfectly straight razor sharp bob framing her face. "Who were you texting?" she asks.

This throws off their rhythm. Usually she starts by asking if he'd done any of the journaling she asked him to do (he never did), and then if he'd gone down to the local legion to connect with other veterans (he hadn't).

"I— She's a friend. Of Soap's. Stayin' with me for a bit. String of bad luck, poor thing, lost her job and her apartment got broken into in the same week." The half truth comes more easily the second time. "She was really shook up."

"And you don't find the introduction of a new person into your routine disruptive?"

John frowns. "I think her comin’ along was disruptive in a good way. I needed to change some things around."

Dr. Clara raises her eyebrows. "Oh?"

"Eatin' better. Couldn't be arsed to cook just for me, but I'm gettin' three squares a day now. Haven't had a drink since Saturday. She likes a cuppa around the same time I'd usually have a night cap. Sleepin' a bit better." He bites back a smile. "The other day, I was workin' outside while she painted-- She's an artist, and a bloody good one— and she reminded me to rest my ankle. Still gets sore when I push too hard."

"Tell me more about her."

"We're still getting to know each other, but she's sweet. Patient. Not afraid to tell me what she thinks."

"Why would she be afraid?"

"I can be… well, you know how I can be. And she's just a soft little thing. Wouldn't blame her if she was nervous." John shrugged. "She's beautiful too.. Brightens up the whole room when she smiles. And funny. Makes clever comments. And has this way of celebrating moments for no reason at all. Had me spinnin' around in the rain the other day. Thinkin' about gettin' her a puppy."

Dr. Clara taps the end of her pencil on her notepad, clearly conflicted. This is the most John's spoken in a session without her having to pull it out of him word by word, but… "A puppy? John don't you think that might not be an appropriate gift for a woman you've known for, um…" she looks at him expectantly, waiting for him to fill in the gap.

"Well. A week," John admits. "But we've got a real connection. Something special."

"Is she planning on staying with you long term?"

"She might. I'd like her to."

"So you have intense feelings for a woman you don't know, and all your short-lived progress is based on her presence, is that what you're saying?"

John's eyes narrow. Of course it sounds crazy to her. She doesn't know Dalisay. "I know her."

"Do you? You met her just a week ago, John." Dr. Clara sighs. "Do you think maybe you see winning her over as a mission? That you're returning to that rigid military mindset that brought you to me in the first place?"

John shakes his head. "It wasn't the military mindset that brought me here. It was those damn pills."

"John—"

"No, I know what you're going to say. Don't bother."

“John. If you know what I’m about to say, I’d like to hear you say it.”

He huffs, and looks away, drumming his fingers against the arm of the chair. It’s hard to meet her steely gaze for long. He doesn’t like being scrutinized, and that’s all these sessions are. "You'd usually say something like, almost losing Soap led me to take risks I shouldn't've, that I blame myself for his injury, that the stress of trying to make sure my team never got hurt in a field where getting hurt is inevitable put me under tremendous stress, and that my own injury left me with nothing but time to contemplate my guilt. The pain killers were a way to turn the feelings off."

Dr. Clara nods, a wry smile tugging at her lips. "So you do listen."

"I don't see what this has to do with Dalisay."

She gives him a pitying look over her reading glasses. "You don't give yourself room to make mistakes, John. That inflexibility is the problem. If you build good habits on someone else's foundations, what happens if they leave? You'll be right back where you started."

“You’re so sure she’ll leave?”

Dr. Clara sets her notebook down in her lap and leans forward, hands clasped together. “It’s not about her, John. It’s about you. You are worth doing this work for. You have to be able to stand on your own two feet. People are fallible. Things happen, we lose people we care about. It’s part of living. The only person you can’t live without is John Price.”

He crosses his arms. “You told me I needed to make connections with other people.”

“I did. And you still should. But this is not what I meant and you damn well know it. Jumping into a relationship when you’re still struggling like this is not going to be healthy. You’re headed for codependency at best. If you really care about this woman, you need to consider what she needs too. If she told you she was seeing a veteran that struggles with substance abuse, that turns any negative feelings into anger, that can’t compromise or be flexible, that needs to be in control—”

“I get it. I’d tell her she deserves better.”

“So be better, John. Start with the journal. Actually buy one before you go home. There’s a stationary shop down around the corner.”

He snorts. “You get a commission for sending your patients there?”

“Yes, John, you’ve unearthed my diabolical plot. I’m in cahoots with the stationary store,” she says dryly. “It doesn’t matter where you buy the damn journal from. Write your feelings on the back of a receipt for all I care. Just try. If all you write down every day is that you hate that I’m making you do it, that’s still progress.”

“Alright, alright.” He supposes he can cede a little ground. Dr. Clara has been going on about that since their first session, so maybe there’s something to it.

He finds himself walking into the stationary store and breathing in the scent of paper and ink and glue. It reminds him of Doll’s art store. He wonders if she’d like a place like this. Probably. She’d probably tell him to listen to Dr. Clara too.

Running his fingers over the spines of the shelf of journals, he stops at one with a soft leather cover. He pulls it down and thumbs through the pages. He doesn’t know what he’s looking for exactly, but it has lines and a spot for the date at the top of each page, so that’s probably good enough. The man at the counter asks if he needs a pen too, and he glances at the one the man’s holding, a fountain pen with a shiny wood-grain finish, and swallows the no that nearly leaves his tongue.

“Sure. Yeah.”

He meets Kate at a pub not far from the London base. She’s still working, of course, just like he should be, but unlike him, she didn’t have a breakdown that cost him everything. When things happen that Kate can’t handle, she can beak down privately, and her wife puts her back together, better than new. He’s been envious of that for a long time, of that stability that Kate gets to come home to.

She’s working on something, tapping away at her phone when he settles across from her, but she glances up and gives him an apologetic smile. “Hey, John. Just give me a second, I have to finish replying to this email.”

He just nods, used to this. Kate’s always in the middle of something. He waits patiently while she works, and quietly orders a tea when the server comes around to ask.

He doesn't miss the questioning look from Kate. She sets her phone down and really studies him, eyes narrowed.

"What?" He asked.

"We've gotten together for lunch almost every week for the past year, and this is the first time you haven't ordered a beer."

"Don't feel like having one."

"You're sleeping better too. You look good, John."

He couldn't deny that he felt better. More like himself. Settled in his skin, engines rumbling, ready for anything. "I guess Doll's been a good influence. You looked her up?"

"I did. Not much of a presence online. Found an old art blog that she hasn't updated for years, has a couple of very sparse social media accounts. Was two years into a fine arts degree from Manchester university when she switched to english lit. Worked part time as an educational assistant in an elementary school, and then started working for Kevin and Isla Kinsey five years ago."

"That's it?" He's not sure if that's a relief or a disappointment. He knows most of that already.

"No. She's had some involvement in anti-war groups, nothing major, but I pulled that thread all the way to the terrorist attack on Piccadilly Circus back in 2019. Her parents were both killed."

"Huh." That explained a lot.

"Michelle actually knows her. She curated a show that Angela— her mother— was featured in. That's why they were in London in the first place."

"Christ. No wonder she dropped painting for so long."

"Has she picked it back up? She should call Michelle once she's put a few things together. She has what Michelle calls a compelling story."

"I'll let her know." He sighs. "Anything else?"

"She's an only child, but there’s lots of family in the Philippines, a grandmother in Aberdeen. A few cousins in Canada and the states. Pretty much all clean, keep out of trouble types. There's not much more I can tell you from my end, unless you want me digging through the filing cabinet at her old therapist's office. Old school, offline records." Kate shrugs. "I could. But I think you'd be better off just talking to her."

"Probably. Thanks, Kate. Kinda had it in my head that she was too good to be true." John flashes a smile at the server when she brings him his tea, and orders a salad, which really has Kate looking at him like he's mad.

"You keep this up, you could come back to work," she says. "You just need Clara to sign off on you. Which means consistency."

"Yeah. I'm tryin' her journal idea. Not sure that I'd go back anyway. Maybe it was just time." A few weeks ago, he would be chomping at the bit to go back. But now that there’s something else to give him some purpose, he’s not sure he wants to.

"Up to you. You're not there yet anyway. Now, I want to hear about this girl from your side." Kate picks up her soda (always diet, always something caffeinated) and gives him a pointed look.

He talks about Doll for a bit, gets a bit more work talk out of Kate, and when they part ways, they tentatively talk about Kate and Michelle coming up to meet her before long. It’s a nice thought. He'd like to get the lads back up too, but Kate’s a safer bet to start. Doll might forgive the boys if they grovel enough, and if things are looking promising between her and John. It's always easier to justify an overstep if the results are ultimately positive, so he has to make sure that Dalisay is happy and settled before he considers it.

It'll be a tough road if she doesn't want to reconcile with them. Not impossible, but he wants all of his people to get along. He wants his kids to know the men that have stood by him for all these years.

He sends a few texts to Dalisay, but there’s no response. He spends the short flight rationalizing why she might not have noticed her phone. Maybe she’d left it in her purse when she got back from Mel’s, or let the battery run out. She wouldn’t leave without telling him. She wouldn’t.

By the time he gets to his truck, he’s convinced that something’s happened.

He makes the hour drive back in forty minutes, parks erratically, and runs for the house, gravel sliding under his feet, his ankle twinging.

He tumbles through the door, half expecting a disaster, a crime scene, and instead sees something out of his most revisited domestic daydreams, set to some bouncy sort of pop music.

Dalisay is leaning over the stove, hips moving to the music, wearing a pretty floral skirt, socks pulled up over her thick calves to the knee, her feet sliding on the tiles as she moves. Her soft dark hair is up in a messy bun, a pencil and a paintbrush stuck through it. The whole house smells amazing, whatever she has cooking sure to be well worth the light lunch. There's a painting started on a canvas set up in the living room, just a soft gradient of blue and gold. And best of all, when she does a little spin and notices him at last, she beams at him. "John! You're home!"

"I am," he agrees, grinning back when she throws herself into his arms, squeezing him tight around the middle. He wraps his own arms around her shoulders, relishing the press of her soft little body against his. "How was your day, Doll?"

"It was really nice! I had a good time chatting with Mel, and I made dinner. And dessert even." She doesn't make any move to pull away, just looks up at him, pretty dark eyes fixed on his face. There’s an echo of relief in her eyes too, like she had been as worried about him, as he had been about her. "I'm glad you're home safe. You really go all the way down to London every week?"

He nodded. "I could change doctors, but I get lunch with a friend while I'm there— Kate. You'd like her. Maybe, once you're settled in a bit more, we could invite her and her wife up for dinner."

"Oh, that would be nice. So long as she's more sane than the friends I've met so far."

"Considerably. Can I kiss you hello?"

She hummed, as though she were considering it, although the laughing look in her eye said yes long before she gave a verbal affirmation.

He's the luckiest man in the world, he thinks as he leans down to kiss her soft lips.

Things are looking up. Things are good. And it's all thanks to to her.

He's going to make her the happiest woman in the entire world. She deserves nothing less. She deserves his best too, and he’s determined to be a better man than he has been in a long while.

She breaks the kiss by dropping her heels back to the floor. “Are you hungry? Dinner’s almost ready. We have time for a cup of tea first, if you’d like.”

“Sounds perfect.”

Image Credits: Banner - Banner Background - Dividers by @/cafekitsune

[ipseitydelrey]

if u ever get the motivation u should write an elle greenaway nsfw alphabet 👀👀👀

omg yesss, what better character to start out with than elle 🫶

nsfw alphabet ☆ elle greenaway

ship elle greenaway x afab!reader

warnings smutty smut smut, oral (giving and receiving), sex toys (dildos, strap-ons, vibrators), biting, mommy kink, masturbation, rough sex, slight exhibitionism, edging, quickies

a/n fun fact: in my textbook for my ethics in psych course, there are these small fictional case studies that you have to read and i kid you not, one of the names for an unethical therapist was "dr. romeo quickie." anyways, enjoy~

A = aftercare (what are they like after sex?)

sometimes when she's feeling a little energetic after sex, she cleans you up with a warm washcloth. but most of the time, you just fall asleep in each other's arms while she whispers sweet nothings in your ear.

B = body part (their favourite body part of theirs and of yours)

she loves her mouth. she quickly noticed that whenever she talks, your eyes tend to fall to her lips and usually she would just say "my eyes are up here, babe." she also loves how her mouth anywhere on your skin just makes you want to do anything for her.

as for you, elle loves your thighs. whenever you two are sitting beside each other, maybe at a restaurant or on the couch watching tv, she tends to gently squeeze your thigh and rub her thumb on your skin. when she goes down on you, she loves to kiss and bite the inside of your thighs.

C = cum (anything to do with cum)

she wants to make you cum before she does so herself. her favourite place to cum on is your face, especially when she sits on it and has you eat her out.

D = dirty secret (a dirty secret of theirs)

she knows how to lap dance...and she's damn good at it.

E = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

oh no doubt about it. with both men and women too! in fact, even if you're also quite experienced, she definitely has a thing or two about sex to teach you.

F = favourite position (this goes without saying)

she loves sitting on your face. although of course, she also likes to seat you on her thigh and have you pleasure yourself by grinding against her.

G = goofy (are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)

she's definitely more serious; her focus is all on you and how to make you feel good. rarely she would make jokes, but during aftercare, she's definitely cracking small sarcastic jokes.

H = hair (how well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

she does shave, but she has a small patch of hair that she keeps well-trimmed.

I = intimacy (how are they during the moment, romantic aspect...)

no rose petals, candles, etcetera, but she is tender and loving, even when she's rough. she's huge on consent, so she always makes sure you're okay with something and praises you when you say yes/no.

J= jack off (masturbation headcanon)

when she's away from you (or vice versa), she touches herself once or twice before she (or you) comes back. although sometimes she would send you videos of her masturbating. of course, if you send her nudes, she can't help it.

K = kink (one or more of their kinks)

she's more of a top, but would be willing to bottom. she also loves marking you with hickies, bites, and more. she likes putting them in places only she can see and kissing them, sometimes even biting the marks to make you writhe.

L = location (favourite places to have sex)

cars. she loves how cramped they can be because it makes you two closer together. it can also get quite heated (literally) and sweaty, and she loves how you can potentially be caught.

M = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

whenever you wear her clothes, especially dresses, she's turned on. she loves seeing you in her clothes (and she loves it even more when she takes them off of you). oh, and when you stand up to a bigot? she praises you for your confidence and absolutely rewards you for how strong you are.

N = nope (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

elle would never hit or hurt you at all. she also would never do edgeplay (i.e. guns and knives). as someone who regularly deals with unsubs, she doesn't want to put you in any danger that could remind her of anything she herself has been through.

O = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

let's be real: elle greenaway is a pussy eating god. she eats you out like a woman starved, and damn it feels so good. and yes, while she does love receiving, she loves giving you as much pleasure as possible.

P= pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

she loves being rough and fast because it makes you loud, but when she slows down, you can bet that it's to edge and make you beg for more.

Q = quickies (their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

although she doesn't particularly favour it, quickies are quite common on account of how much she's away with the b.a.u.. she does make the most out of it though, because she does like going fast, but she still prefers to take her time and make you cum again and again.

R = risk (are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

knowing elle, she's all about risks. sometimes on days where you're visiting the b.a.u., she likes to tease you by small innuendoes and putting her pen near her mouth. when it's apparent you're hot and bothered, she takes you to the bathroom and eats your pussy out while you struggle to keep your moans to yourself.

S = sexts (yes? no? pictures?)

oh tons and tons of naughty texts are exchanged (phone calls too, which can sometimes escalate to phone sex). pics are definitely sent. when you started sending each other provocative pics, it began with tasteful pictures (clothed or if not clothed, covered with hands; cleavage, thighs, ass, etc.), but over time they escalated to full on nudes.

T= toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

strap-ons are elle's go to for pleasuring you (aside from using her tongue). she has a couple different kinds of dildos that she loves to use on you. she also uses vibrators, both on herself and you.

U = unfair (how much they like to tease)

elle loves to tease and edge you. it's so attractive to her when you beg her to let you cum or touch you. of course, she doesn't want to make it torturous for you, so she has you grind against her mouth/hands/strap-on until you're close...at which point she gives you what you want and makes you orgasm.

V= volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make)

she moans more than she whimpers. and while she isn't particularly loud, she makes it apparent that she's having a good time by having the sweetest wanton moans.

W = wild card (get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

as someone who loves control, elle would love it if you decide to be the one in control for a night. she wants you to feel powerful and dominating in the bedroom (she mostly just wants you to ride her face).

X= x-ray (what's going on behind those panties)

again, small patch of hair she keeps neat and trimmed. other than that, her pussy is pretty and you love eating her out.

Y = yearning (how high is their sex drive? how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last...)

with you, sort of medium to slightly high, but when she's away, high as can be. she misses you dearly when she's without you, so when she comes back, be prepared to not walk tomorrow. regularly she can go two to four rounds and she can definitely last a good while.

Z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

she always makes sure you're comfortable and asleep before going to sleep herself. she cares for your wellbeing and wants you to know how much she appreciates and cares for you so after you have sex, you tend to fall asleep to the sound of her softly whispering "good girl, you're so amazing, you did wonderful..."

[hazelsmirrorball]

Mr. and Ms. Piastri 

summary: Y/n Piastri and Oscar Piastri have been hiding things in the relationship, so they go to couples therapy. Based on the movie Mr. and Ms. Smith

pairings: oscar piastri x Wife!reader

a/n: Excuse any errors english isn’t my main language. Also this story will be several parts. Hope you enjoy!

The sound of Oscar obnoxiously chewing his gum bounced against the walls making Y/n grip on the leather chair sending a forced smile towards him and their  therapist. They had debated several times about doing this. Both of them had created such a tall wall around themselves not letting anyone through, not even each other. Adding a third person in their life was something neither of them expected when they got married. But it was their last resort. But adding another person just builds up the facade they had in their relationship. 

Couples counseling. 

The only “date” they were forced to have with another person, in this case their therapist.

She thought of a coherent sentence  to describe their relationship without insulting him right then and there. The intention wasn’t to ruin their relationship, even though at this point it was to the point where they were desperate for something to save it. She couldn’t lie, she loved him, she loved him with all her heart. But as the years passed the only thing somewhat stable in their relationship was the dinner they always had at seven pm.

After six years of marriage, their relationship had turned monotone and nothing excited the pair. They used to be spontaneous, both of them love traveling but now they found themselves invested more in their work than in their relationship. Now the only quality time they spent together was eating dinner in silence with the occasional critique of her food from her husband.

It’s not that they wanted their marriage to fall apart. At least on behalf of Y/n’s she wanted her relationship to succeed. She was a perfectionist and her marriage wasn’t going to ruin her streak. She had worked a lot for her marriage to be perfect, everything in her head was calculated to the max to make the relationship as good as the books in couples counseling.

They had tried everything, taking advice from their friends, reading “how to fix your unfixable marriage” articles. So that’s when they decided to get help from professionals and do couple’s counseling. The Verstappen family from next door had claimed that the therapist had worked wonders for their relationship, so why not try it?

“I wanted to start with the fact that we don’t have to be here, right Jane?” Oscar tapping his wife’s shoulder forcing a smile her way.

“Yes, John. It’s a funny story actually” she replied, forcing a chuckle subtly moving her shoulder to take Oscar's hands off. He quickly took the hint resting each of his hands on the arms of the leather chair he was sitting on anxiously tapping it.

“We were at a charity event, specifically a charity auction slash race viewing” Oscar started while looking at his wife for her to continue.

“Our friends the Sainz. They live across the street”

“Anyways the grand lot was…”

“A mystery lot” both continued in unison with a pained expression covering their faces.

“I had sunk a few, wasn’t driving so I started bidding” Oscar said, pinching his nose knowing where this conversation was heading.

“John, here is a tiny bit competitive,” She replied, tapping his thigh while forcing a smile. Oscar bites his tongue trying to avoid saying  anything  he will regret later.

“As I was saying, the upshot is we end up blowing four hundred bucks on the mystery lot”

“we? I think we, is a lot of people, honey. Don’t lie to Dr. Wexler”

“The important thing here is that we won four sessions with Dr. Wexler!” Oscar clapped back with fake joy wishing to be anywhere else but here.

“The Sainz have a great humor.” Y/n said sincerely laughing this time followed by Oscar laughing as well with her.

“But…you didn’t have to come” Dr. Wexler said finally breaking his silence. He looked up from his notes scanning the couple as if he was looking for every single flaw in their relationship.

“Right” Oscar replied, his once happy demeanor changing abruptly into an awkward one.

“Absolutely, but we as a couple strongly believe in a theory” Y/n said still smiling at the Dr., quickly reaching for Oscar hand and intertwining their hand together.

“we do?”

“of course we do silly, the oil check”

“Right! The oil check. See we’ve been married for five years…”

“six.”

“Five, six years, and this is like a check up for us. Pop the hood, nose around, change the oil, maybe replace a seal or two. Who knows, a lot of things could happen”

“Okay, then. For this so-called “oil check” I'm going to ask some questions. On a scale from one to ten how happy are you as a couple?” Dr. Wexler replied, pushing up his glasses and taking an attentive look towards the pair analyzing their body language.

“eight”

“wait, so like ten being perfectly happy and one being…totally utterly miserable?”

“Just respond instinctively, John” Dr. Wexler answered, wanting for his reaction.

“Ok. Ready?”

“Ready”

“Eight.” The couple replied at the same time with a proud smile adorning each of their lips.

“Next question, on a scale of one to ten how happy would you say your partner is?” The doctor continues his question this time reading from his notes.

“eight.”

“wait. are we allowed fractions?” Y/n asked with a slight smirk staring to see the fun in this session, even if this session could be the end of their relationship.

“it’s what’s instinctive”

“well then, i’m all set. Are you all set, John?”

“one, two, three…”

“eight.”

“Okay, well i’m seeing repetition here. So let me ask a different question, how often do you have sex?”

“ i don’t understand the question” y/n fakes confusion as she rests her chin on her hand.

“wait. okay, i’m lost. Is this a one to ten thing?”

“Right. I mean, because if it is, does “one” equal “not much” or “one”, like, nothing. Because strictly speaking zero should be nothing”

“Exactly. Plus, if we don’t know what one is, what’s “ten”?” Oscar continues trying to test the doctor's patience.

“Right…is ten…you know”

“constant and unrelenting…”

“…twenty for seven…without a break. For anything”

“not even to eat”

“like sting”

“Exactly. Look at Sting’s day job. Who else has sixty hours a week to put aside in the sack”

“This is not a one to ten scenario. It’s a  straight question, how often do you guys have sex”

Oscar didn’t want to be a pain in the ass. He loved his wife dearly, he would do anything for her. Even go on a pointless couples therapy session knowing that it was going to do nothing. He was certain that with her there wasn’t a margin for error. Everything was calculated and no risks were involved, that’s what brought their relationship into the position where they currently stood.

“Are you guys completely honest with each other?”

In the back of her head Y/n thought that there could be a tiny possibility that her job was what made their relationship the way it was. Maybe it was the constant lying or the adrenaline rush that her job gave her that their relationship lacked. She knew Oscar, and she knew him well and as much as she wanted to deny it, Oscar brought her the “normal” things to her life. But she was gripping onto that to make their relationship last. She just hoped that this couple counseling will heal whatever they were going through. 

[avoxrising]

The Feral One • Ch 20

Finnick x Y/N

Series Masterlist Link

I promise we will get into the timer stuff soon but I have to build up the plot first…

Content Warnings - None!

You wake up to Finnick gone, a note left on his pillow.

Got called into training early. Didn’t want to disturb you. I’ll see you at lunch.

Love,

Your fake husband

Why was he in training so early? He said yesterday that his training wouldn’t start till after breakfast.

Maybe he was upset by what happened last night. Maybe he didn’t enjoy it.

You let your thoughts consume you as you lay in bed, completely skipping breakfast and most of your morning schedule.

A knock on your door pulls you from your thoughts.

“Come in,” you sigh to whoever was waiting. You’re surprised to see Boggs enter.

“Miss Y/L/N, do I need to remind you that you have a schedule to follow?” he asks.

“No,” you yawn. “I’m sorry I lost track of time. What time is it anyways?”

“10:34 AM,” Boggs states. “I’ve been instructed to escort you to your doctor’s checkup, which you are very late to.”

Boggs gives you a minute to dress before he’s escorting you to the hospital. He says Coin isn’t happy that you are already disregarding your schedule and is rethinking your living arrangement.

Prim performs your checkup that morning. She clears you for the day and you make your way to the cafeteria to help with lunch prep.

11:30 rolls around and you finally have a chance to see Finnick. Twelve hours felt too long and you were anxious to face him again. He was sometimes hard to read.

“Hey love,” he says as you sit down next to him with your tray. “How was your morning?”

“Meh,” you shrug. “I got reprimanded by Boggs for not following my schedule. I guess that was a serious rule.”

“Sorry about this morning,” Finnick states. “I would have woken you up when they buzzed for me but you look like you needed the sleep.”

“That’s ok,” you sigh, thinking about how sad you were that he wasn’t there when you woke. “Why did they increase your training?”

“Katniss snuck onto a transport that left late last night for District 2,” he explains. “They’re moving up our deployment timeline.”

“Deployment?” you ask, setting your fork down. “You didn’t tell me they were sending you anywhere.”

“Can we talk about this tonight?” he replies.

“I’m not hungry,” you state, abruptly standing with your tray. Finnick calls out for you as you walk away, needing to escape for a bit.

You end up back at the hospital to talk to Prim.

“Could I get an excuse for the rest of the day?” you ask her. “I’m not feeling well.”

“Oh no! Do you need medicine? What’s not feeling well?” she asks.

“I’ve just had a bad day that’s all,” you shake your head. “I can’t mentally handle a schedule today.”

“Why don’t you go chat with Dr. Aurelius for a bit,” Prim suggests. “He’s available now if you want to see him.”

You had never been in therapy before. Dr. Aurelius seemed nice but you didn’t know if you could trust him. What do therapists even do?

“Nice to meet you Miss Y/L/N,” the man states as he enter the room. “I’m Dr. Aurelius. Why don’t we start with how you’re feeling today?”

“Sad,” you reply, unsure of how to properly convey your emotions.

“Do you know why you feel sad?” he asks. “Or what made you feel this way?”

“District 13 makes me sad,” you state as the man writes something down in his notebook. “I have no autonomy here.”

“They allowed you to get married,” he remarks. “Are you happy about that?”

“Meh,” you shrug. “I mean I love Finnick but it was a fake wedding for a propo that we agreed to do so we could be roommates here in 13. He’s lived with me for 5 years now. I skipped my schedule this morning and Coin is already threatening to make us live separately again.”

“I see,” the man comments. “Do you find schedules restricting?”

“I guess I do,” you respond. “I mean I’ve spent my whole adult life on house arrest so I’ve never really been able to make decisions for myself. Having a schedule feels like someone is telling me what to do all the time.”

“That’s understandable,” he comments. “I can excuse you from your schedule for today but you will need to find a compromise with President Coin. I will provide you with a list of options for your schedule so you can maybe pick out what you want to do. I apologize that the list is limited but it’s the best I can do.”

You take the list and agree to meet with him and Coin in the morning to discuss your schedule. In the mean time he gives you a “mentally unstable” bracelet to excuse you for the rest of the day.

The list seems meh. You had no interest in learning about nuclear weapons or the history of Panem, and cafeteria duty wasn’t necessarily your favorite.

Reflection time rolled around and Finnick enters your shared cabin.

“You skipped dinner,” he comments as he throws you an apple. You reluctantly take it and eat a bit to ease his worry.

“You skipped out on telling me about deployment,” you mutter.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs as he moves to sit next to you. “I just didn’t feel like there was a good time to tell you. I was going to tell you before the wedding but you had your breakdown and I didn’t want to worry you.”

“Where are they sending you?” you ask.

“The capital,” he responds. At this answer you burst into tears.

“You can’t leave me,” you sob. Finnick wishes he could pull you into a hug but he knows better than to touch you when you’re upset.

“It will only be for two weeks,” he states. “Three at most.”

“What if you don’t come back?” you hiccup.

“I’ll always come back for you,” he replies.

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[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 65 (Personal Lows)

cw: pregnancy loss (I'm so sorry I did not plan this.)

As well as life had been going for Heather and Conrad, reality came crashing down one Saturday when Ash was in the city with the Landgraabs. Both were spending the day at work, but Heather fell ill and called Conrad.

"Something's wrong. Can you meet me at St. Sims Hospital?"

Heather was admitted for tests, but Dr. Serra delivered the devastating news. "This happens more often than you might think this early on, but there's no heartbeat. I'm sorry."

"This is my fault," said Conrad. "My fear added stress you didn't need."

"This isn't your fault," said Heather staunchly. "Dr. Serra said this happens more often than you think. You didn't stress me out any more than the rest of our busy lives stressed me out. I've worn a glucose monitor since high school and I have to remind myself to slow down all the time. You make my life so much easier, Conrad. Not more stressful."

"This can be a difficult time for anyone," Dr. Serra said gently. "I'd like to refer you both to a colleague of mine, if you're open to it. Her name is Dr. Supriya Delgato, and she's a relationship and family therapist with a focus on grieving. I think you should talk to her when you're ready. She has an office upstairs and I can let her know she might hear from you."

"Yes please," said Heather. "Thank you, Dr. Serra."

Conrad was still apologetic when they returned home, trying to think of the right thing to say while an exhausted Heather changed into her pajamas. "I'm sorry. I should have been more supportive from the start."

"I'm glad you were honest with me, Conrad. For better or worse, knowing how you feel makes everything clearer for me."

"I do want a family with you. I want Ash to have a brother or sister, and I was looking forward to the parenting classes we were going to sign up for. I wish it hadn't turned out this way."

She embraced him. "Me too. But when I was about seven my mom had a miscarriage early, like me. She got through it, and she had Hazel a year later."

"Heather, I promise you, next time I'll be ready."

"I believe you. We don't need to think about that tonight, but I think we should schedule an appointment with Dr. Delgato like Dr. Serra suggested."

"I haven't spoken to a grief counselor since I was in high school," he admitted. "Back then I was too angry at the world to get anything from it."

She held him in a reassuring embrace. "I think this will be a good thing for both of us."

They went to bed that night feeling closer than ever, cuddling beneath the covers until they both fell asleep. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

NOTE: This happened unexpectedly via the Heathcare Redux mod by adeepindigo and I was really sad about it. I'm sorry to anyone who hated this development especially after we all went through it with Conrad. I considered pretending it didn't happen since it happened SO early, but I appreciate the realistic storytelling supported by the mod nonetheless. And Conrad will be thrilled about the next one, because I'm literally sending him to grief counseling to justify me changing his trait to 'Would Love to Have a Child Right Now' without letting it flip over time. No chances taken, only plot! In all honesty Heather should have had therapy in high school so in some ways this is long overdue for them both, anyway.

NOTE 2: That last shot is the first time they autonomously cuddled (to sleep, my heart!) after the Lovestruck update. Honestly their level of flirty when they're together is usually sky high and blocks out most of their sad moodlets, hence the smiles despite this really sad installment. When it comes to Conrad, Heather isn't unflirty whatsoever.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for completely ignoring a very long and thought-out apology message?

TL;DR: Abusive ex sent me apology after two years of silence and I’m not sure I want to acknowledge it.

So I was in a very abusive relationship with my ex for around a year. I’m going to try not to go into too much detail, but I tend to ramble and this is a hard topic for me so I’m sorry in advance if this ends up super long.

When we started dating, it was great for the first six months or so. I noticed certain things that made me question if she could have BPD (intense jealousy, sudden mood switches, impulsivity, self-destructive behaviour) and encouraged her to speak to her therapist about it. She eventually did and was diagnosed with BPD, but she wasn’t able to get on medication for another few months. After that, everything seemed to just… completely spiral. She started to control who I could speak to (I was only allowed to be with friends for an hour, and if I was even a few minutes late she’d be blowing up my phone accusing me of cheating etc. and ignoring me for days), she wanted me to cut off every friend who didn’t like her or warned me about the relationship and would accuse me of disrespecting boundaries if I objected, she would shout at me 24/7 (e.g. we’d be talking fine, she’d tell me she had a headache, I’d say I was sorry, and she’d suddenly be yelling that she didn’t need my pity and that I was patronising her), she constantly tracked where I was and who I was with, she lied to me constantly about things both major and minor, and by the end of it she was physically aggressive. This eventually culminated in her cheating on me, me giving her another chance (zoinks), and her cheating on me again less than a month later with a man she knew had SA’d me in the past. After that I just couldn’t take it anymore and finally got the courage to leave.

This unfortunately made everything worse. She split on me - basically a BPD thing where your opinion on someone goes from love to hate or vice versa in an instant - and she made it her mission to make my life hell. For almost a year and a half after our breakup, she was sending things to my house, to my family’s houses, she was stalking my social medias and sending me death threats from burner accounts, all of her own social medias became solely dedicated to talking about me, and then the worst part - she knew I wanted to go to college to become a primary (elementary) school teacher, and so she called up the college I was going to attend and told them I was a pedophile. She went all out with this accusation and was posting it all over Twitter, messaging my friends, getting her friends to post it - it was crazy. Thankfully it did not actually affect my education because I explained what was going on and I had evidence that things she was saying happened were false, but it was a super terrifying and stressful time.

While that was going on, she used the fact I was an SA victim against me - at one point she told me to “shut up and go get raped again”, and another Tweet she made accusing me of being a pedophile was followed up with “Shame you’ll never get that teaching job, I hear they’re not so kind to people like you in prison”.

Making everything more confusing is the fact that every few months it’s like she’d switch back - she’d send me an apology message, tell all her friends it was a lie, get back in contact with me and tell me she was on meds and going to therapy and everything was getting better, and then a few weeks later she’d be posting about how abusive I was again and blocking me everywhere. It felt like there was nothing I could do - if I ignored it, she’d step it up to get a reaction, and if I did acknowledge it, she’d step it up anyway because I was reacting.

Finally, FINALLY, I threatened to get a restraining order and everything stopped.

Almost two years pass and nothing. I’m now happily engaged to a wonderful girl who was my best friend throughout that whole relationship and knew exactly how affected I was by it. I’m going to therapy, was diagnosed with PTSD, and have been slowly moving on. I still have nightmares about her, and sometimes things will get me (e.g. a few months ago I saw someone who looked like her on TV unexpectedly and had a panic attack), but things are good. Much better. I was thinking of it all much less, I wasn’t dedicating energy to it, I wasn’t even angry or upset anymore, it was just a past lesson I’d learned and didn’t need to worry about anymore.

Then last week I wake up to a message. Again, it’s been two years.

Now, this message was LONG. It was from my ex, apologising for everything she’d done. It was a genuinely nice message and clearly had a lot of thought in it. She said she knew it was selfish to message me when I’d moved on but that she had things to say for her own peace of mind. She said she was happy to see I was engaged, that she’s done a lot of self-reflecting and healing. She said she tried to date again and ended up “karma’d “ - that the relationship was scarily similar to ours but with her in my shoes this time - and that it had made her realise just how disgusting her actions had been and how badly she’d fucked me up. She made it clear she wasn’t looking for forgiveness or to reconnect, just to apologise.

Part of me is mildly skeptical because of the fact she’d apologised multiple times before and it never stuck, but the two year gap and the way it’s phrased makes me believe this is truly genuine. She seems to have matured and changed as a person.

Thing is, I just… can’t bring myself to respond. Every time I go to do it, I remember things she said or did to me and just can’t. I feel like if I just responded and said no hard feelings and explicitly told her I have moved on and am doing better, I could give her the same closure that this apology might eventually give me. It would be closing this chapter for good for both of us and I could just never think about her again.

And yet I just. Haven’t. I’m scared to open the window of communication again in any way, I’m scared it’ll be taken back, I’m scared that this will take me back to square one because she’s put herself back in my life (even tangentially) and now I’m thinking about her again after so long of trying so hard to heal.

So WIBTA if I just… didn’t acknowledge it? If I let her essentially wonder forever it it was ever seen or read because I just don’t know what to do about it, even if I’m potentially keeping closure from her for my own comfort?

What are these acronyms?

[ameliora-j]

therapist bf forcing subby reader to ride and suck off her bully in front of him to prove that she’s forgiven him (the bully).

𐐪𐑂 it’s twisted tuesday ! send in ur dark au requests :>

content: therapist!steve, bully!eddie, oral (m!receiving), voyeurism, exhibitionism, humiliation, impact play, public sex, dub-con (kinda), DARKFIC, THIS POST IS 18+ MDNI

𐐪𐑂 𐐪𐑂 𐐪𐑂

"in order to continue your sessions, you need to prove to me that you have truly forgiven him. so i can see that you're truly healed" dr. harrington explains as he walks over to the door. "so i have a guest with us today."

steve doesn't explain further before he's opening the door to his office. your jaw drops and you quickly drop your gaze as eddie--the man who had made your entire high school life completely hell--saunters into the room. "hey, princess" he smirks.

"hi, eddie..." you mumble quietly.

"we look at someone when we speak to them... don't we, sweetheart?" steve mocks gently. you nod softly, picking up your head and repeating the phrase. it had been over two years since you had graduated high school and seen eddie. he got taller... more built than you remember. your eyes scan his body, taking extra time to look at his muscles and the pretty veins on his arms.

eddie feels you analyzing him, and smirks before flexing softly. "i dunno, dr. harrington... the way she's gapin at me i'd say i'm forgiven" he nods softly.

"you're right, eddie... but there's only one test that will tell" he smirks softly. you look between the two men, who obviously had some sort of unspoken agreement that you hadn't been made aware of. you squirm, shrinking back into your seat in an attempt to shy away from their gazes.

dr. harrington closed the door, locking it before turning his eyes to you. "crawl to us" he orders lowly. you quickly drop to your knees, crawling to the two men. you sit back on your haunches and gaze between them, squeezing your thighs together as you await further instructions.

dr. harrington walks back across the room to his seat, leaning over and grabbing his clipboard to finish taking his notes. "are you daft?" eddie questions raising a brow. you furrow your brows in confusion, slowly shaking your head. "well get on with it, then" he nods, gesturing to his pants.

you only become more confused after he speaks again. you look back at dr. harrington before turning back to eddie, once again waiting for an order. "god, you're stupider than i remember" eddie rolls his eyes. he reaches forward and gathers your hair into a ponytail. he tugs harshly, causing you to shriek as he drags you towards the thick bulge in his jeans. "take my cock out, and put your lips around it idiot" he smiles--a condescending smile--as he speaks to you slowly, almost like one would do to a child.

you pout before nodding slowly and undoing his belt. steve sits back in his chair, clipboard on his lap as he waits for you to take action. you pull eddie's cock free from his pants, spitting on your hand before jerking it a few times. you open your mouth, slowly pushing his cock into your mouth.

you grimace at the salty taste of his precum on your tongue, but push through. your mouth stretches wide to accomodate eddie's immense length and wide girth as you push your head as far down as it could go. you look up at eddie, and are surprised to find that he already has his eyes on you.

"that's it, slut. i always knew you's look so much prettier with your mouth full of cock" he groans. "what a perfect little free use hole" he groans, beginning to move your head up and down on his cock. you slurp quietly at your saliva that was making a complete mess of his cock, gagging as you suck him off.

you swallow around the head of his cock and eddie practically whines at the feeling of your throat contracting around the sensitive head of his cock. he groaned as he fucked your mouth slowly--but in no way was he nice. he abused your throat with his cock, holding you down as you swallowed him whole and laughing at your loud gags and pathetic attempts to move away from his cock.

"this is all you're good for." he growls. his voice cracks as he fights off his orgasm. you know you've got him when you reach up and begin pinching and playing with his balls. he lets out a gasp, followed by a loud moan before pulling back. he left just the tip in, beginning to paint the inside of your mouth with his cum as he jerked himself off.

you coughed, gagging at the sickly salty taste of him. you sputter around his seed, leaning over and spitting it onto the carpet. "you stupid ungrateful bitch" eddie growls, slapping your cheek. you shriek, whining as you tear up. you're trembling as you stare up at him before hearing dr. harrington tutting behind you.

you turn to look at him and furrow your brows. "good girls who have forgiven their bullies swallow, and say 'thank you for giving me your cum, sir'" he tsks. "i guess eddie will just have to keep coming back until you learn to be grateful and forgive" he taunts, smirking darkly at you.

[witchesroad]

hi!! idk if you've said it before but, do u have any jossam hcs?? i love them sm, hope u are doing okay!!

hi, thanks for the ask!! here are 5 of my favorite josh & sam headcanons <3

they had their first kiss at sam’s halloween party in 2013. they had been plenty flirty before then, but once josh saw her in that lara croft costume, all self-restraint went out the window. he dragged her into the backyard when all the others were distracted by some party game and pushed her up against the wall and finally kissed her like he might die if he didn’t. that’s why josh kept the invitation for so many years and even shared it in his sessions with dr. hill. it reminds him of that night and of sam.

josh fell in love with sam way before she fell in love with him, but she was the first to say it out loud. there’s nothing josh hates more than the idea of dragging sam into his shit. she’s too smart, too warm, too out of his league; it’s not fair that she should have to take care of him. he avoids and denies his true feelings in some self-righteous attempt to spare her from his misery. of course, sam loves him anyway and he’s helpless to deny her when she finally tells him all the things he’s wanted to say to her since they were thirteen and fourteen.

hannah and beth were painfully aware of how they felt about each other, by the way. hannah secretly thought it would be romantic if they got married someday and sam became her sister-in-law. beth just hoped that sam’s good influence would make josh marginally less annoying. both were happy to see him smile so much more than he had in recent years.

sam teaches josh how to climb and josh teaches sam how to play guitar. he’s naturally athletic so he doesn’t struggle (that much) to keep up with her. she brings him back out into the world and reminds him of why it’s nice to be alive.

epilogue to the new endings: more than a year after that night, josh is out of the psychiatric facility and he’s relatively stable. he’s taking the right medications now and they put a stop to his delusions. he and his new therapist put together an 8-step plan to make amends with everyone he terrorized at the lodge. they started off with the one that frightened him most: sam. it took him an entire year to build up the nerve to reach out to her. he half expected her to send him straight to voicemail and he forgot what little mastery he had over the english language when she actually answered, josh? a lot can change in a year. he knew that well. sam was hardened now after surviving what they did on that mountain. but the version of her in his memory had done her no justice; she was so much more beautiful than he remembered. he was shocked at just how little his feelings changed even though everything else about him had. they talked for hours, which quickly turned into days, and he explained and answered and apologized until his throat was hoarse. she knew it wasn’t his fault and that his illness was beyond his control. he still wanted to spend every day of the rest of his life making it up to her. there was always a connection. he just lost sight of it for a while.

[darkangel1791]

Random Thoughts on The Falcon and The Winter Soldier:

I am aware that every line in every scene is there for dramatic and/or comedic purposes. So there's no need to point that out. It isn't that I didn't get the point or the joke. This is also nothing against Amy Aquino, who plays Dr. Raynor. This is just an opinion piece based on the reality that the show wants us to accept.

Trigger warnings for mental health and mental health treatment, and power dynamics.

From an actual standpoint of mental health and therapy, in 2024, Dr. Raynor is a terrible therapist.

So many reasons! Let's start with when she said to Bucky "The government wants to make sure you aren't gonna (mimes stabbing people)". A therapist, of all people, would always use their words! Always! Bucky communicates verbally, so the therapist must also. If she was afraid to say it to Bucky then she shouldn't have brought it up. Also, if she hasn't caught on yet that Bucky's major problem is that he was a killer and that haunts him, Bucky should have a different therapist. So she shouldn't have approached such a sensitive topic in such a flippant way. That would just make him shut down.

I think this plan about making a list and making amends with the 3 rules was something she put in place as part of his treatment plan. Doesn't seem like the sort of thing Bucky would come up with on his own, and I doubt that the government would condone him making contact with former Hydra members or families of his victims unless it was part of a sanctioned treatment plan, at least. That shows that as a therapist, she is results driven. If a results driven therapist asks if you're having nightmares, they will next want to know what you are doing to alleviate the problem. So Bucky most likely says no because he knows she doesn't actually care about the nightmares. They have probably already had that conversation once. When Sam asks the same question, Bucky says "All the time," without hesitation. Also, if she was any kind of a therapist, she would have asked enough questions to know that Bucky isn't having nightmares, he is having flashbacks, which is a different mental process.

"Give me your phone." No, absolutely not! That tramples on so many privacy boundaries, it is unreal! It is also a misuse of power, and the power dynamic, because what if he says no? She has the power to tell the government that he is a dangerous psychopath and get him locked away forever.

But, after invading his privacy in this way, she uses the information she gets to criticize and mock him? No. That is doubling down on the abuse of the power dynamic.

"What do you want now?"

"Peace."

"THAT IS UTTER BULLSHIT!"

Ummmmm, no. If a client is lying to the therapist, or to themselves, you deal with it in a completely different way. Yelling is never okay. Telling a person with mental health problems that you don't believe what they are saying, calling them a liar, is not treatment. She gives no context for why she thinks that is a lie, or why she thinks Bucky would lie to her. Or why she thinks that he would lie about that subject.

Finally, the notebook thing is absolutely passive aggressive. "You don't talk, I write." That is psychological manipulation. I can only imagine that whatever she writes is used in the weekly report she sends to the government. What if she writes that he is being uncooperative? The parole is revoked, he gets locked up. So she is putting him in a situation where he is forced to say something. But not about his true problems, nor will it be truthful information. We see that he lies to her when describing what he did to cross the most recent name off of the list. Which, of course he does! Along with that, step 3, being forced to identify yourself as the Winter Soldier and by name as who you are now, is incredibly dangerous and puts him in a very vulnerable position. That entire thing is completely out of whack with good, safe, mental health treatment.

I'm sure I have left things out, but this is long enough already. I'll do another post on the second session that we see.

Again ymmv, your mileage may vary. Meaning that these opinions are mine alone. They do not invalidate yours, or anyone else's who has written or spoken on the subject. No offense is meant. Your view of the subject is valid and I am not trying to negate that view by expressing my own.

In closing, when you first enter the office of a therapist, take pictures of, or write down, the information on the credentials they have displayed. If there are no credentials displayed, ask why and what their credentials are. If your therapist ever makes you feel threatened or ridiculed, don't go back! Ever! And report them to whatever organization their displayed licenses are from.

Dr. Raynor was a terrible therapist pt. 2

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Helping Hand 7

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of divorce, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: Jonathan Pine, 40s reader

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You sit in the sterile waiting room, slouched like a guilty dog as you stare at your scuffed work shoes and cradle your arm. It feels heavier by the moment, the tenderness only growing, and a regrettable crack sounds as you try to shift it. You grunt and teethe down on your pain. Jonathan looks at you but says nothing.

It feels surreal, sitting there beside him, waiting on a doctor. This isn't how you saw your day going. But when did anything in your life go to plan? Twenty years of marriage flushed away for a younger woman and a midlife crises. Working a job meant for college students in your forties. It's all going just so spectacularly.

Your name is called before you can sink any further into self-pity. You get up but Jonathan doesn't follow. You're happy for that at least. He at least is aware of some boundaries.

It's a small office with only a few doctors. You're put in the room to wait some more and when the physician enters, she introduces herself as Dr. Marguerite Garcia. You try to smile and return her basic niceties. It's hard to focus on anything but the agony. She checks your chart and verifies your history before asking questions about your injury.

She nods and sets down her clipboard. "Do you mind if I do some tests? I'll need to feel your shoulder and move your arm."

"Yeah, that's fine. I'm pretty sure it's just a pulled muscle," you explain.

"Sure, but we should make sure," she nears and you sit up.

She lifts your arm and you squeak. She moves it slowly at different angles, feeling around your shoulders and back, then along your neck. Your eyes fill with tears by the time she lets you put your arm down.

"It would appear like a torn rotator cuff. I could send you for imaging to be sure but I'm fairly certain," she grabs the chart again.

"Really? What does that mean?"

"We won't go straight to surgery. Right now, we'll start with the basics; rest, ice, and physical therapy. I will have some exercises printed out for you to do, along with a link where you can find videos. If you like, I can write a referral to a therapist." She continues as she scribbles with her pen, "I'll send you off with some painkillers as well. You seem like you need the relief."

"Oh, thank you," you smile.

"And I'll get you into a sling. Just for a few days to take some of the pressure off."

"A sling?"

"It shouldn't be too much and it'll be a reminder for you to not use that arm," she girds. "Let me just go get that script filled and I'll have the nurse come fit you."

"Sure," you accept as you look down. Great, a prescription, how much is that going to cost you? And you highly doubt they're giving the slings away for free. Just another expense, just another step backwards.

💙

You get the bottle of pills before the nurse sees you. You take one for good measure as the throbbing overwhelms every other sense. Finally with your arm confined and a pocket full of painkillers, you're free to leave the office.

As you come out into the waiting room, Jonathan stands at the counter. He tucks something into his jacket pocket as he faces you.

"Ready?" he asks.

"Um, I think I have to pay for--"

"Already done," he interjects, "better get you home so you can rest."

"You paid? You didn't have to--"

"Please, it is nothing," he waves you off, "come. I'm sure all you want to do is lay down."

He isn't wrong and you're all out of energy. You're not going to argue with another man that day. You're going to let the pills kick in and leave the world behind.

You let him lead you outside and he opens the car door for you. You're not sure it's any sort of gallant behaviour, rather practical as you are down to a single arm. You get in and awkwardly pull the seat belt across you.

He closes the door as you jam the buckle into place and sit back with a sigh. You shut your eyes. You just can't wait to be home. Alone.

You sense the shift of weight as he gets in on the driver's side. He starts the engine as you stifle a yawn behind your lips and open your eyes, a swimming wobbliness in your vision. The pills are hitting harder than you expected. Well, you hadn't eaten much, just coffee and maybe half a cracker.

"You alright?" He asks as the car rolls into motion and you open your eyes.

"Great," you grumble and let your eyelids droop as your head drifts towards the window. "Tired..."

You watch the buildings pass, other cars stopping and skimming by. You lose yourself in the lazy traffic and the dimming blueness of the sky. Your lashes sink further and further, until they meet, and that hot fuzziness coaxes them together. The pain in your shoulder dulls, barely tugging at your consciousness as it fades away.

[alostlovergirl]

Bucky barnes or sebastian stan X innocent reader, where the reader goes to the doctor because she is constantly wet and feels tingling down there, and she doesn't know what it could be, so she goes to seek medical help, in a super beautiful clinic, with super cute doctor clothes, and still more with the nice and good doctor, bucky will take care of solving your problem in a very professional way (you know ;), 2,3,... X until she can't take it anymore, tying her legs wide open, talking dirty and manipulating her, and after finishing bucky says that every time you feel it you have to look for him, only he can make it stop, and gives the address of the "private clinic" to look for him. if there is any problem, I hope this fic is a little long.sorry if there are any mistakes, everything came from google translator

Open wide- Bucky Barnes x reader:

Summary: Taking a visit to the doctor concerning a private and embarrassing problem leads to some fun.

Warnings: Virgin reader, rough sex, rough taking of virginity, slight manipulation, crying.

Notes: I am so sorry anonymous for this taking so long. I have been dealing with a lot lately and I had to finish this quick. I hope you like it and I hope it is long enough for you. Thank you for your request!

Dr. Barnes is the best sexual therapist / Doctor around the Brooklyn area. He has dealt with multiple cases of couples with sexual frustration or non-communication with things in the bedroom. He has helped many achieve what they were looking for out of sex. Now, he was dealing with a case of a 21 year old woman, who apparently never dealt with sexual frustration in her life. Or never heard of sex. Or never had a sexual thought in her life ever apparently. It excited the older doctor. His mind wandered to a nervous, innocent woman opening up her tight, wet heat to him. To be seen by him for the first time, other than her parents. Bucky never thought of himself as a bad, uncomfortable doctor, but he has found it increasingly hard to control himself. After seeing pussy and the rare occasional virgin all damn day has had him in his office rubbing one off. So having a patient that has never heard of sex meant that maybe he could manipulate the woman to lose her precious virginity to his fateful techniques.

...

When he walked into his office with a pair of jeans and forest green sweater, binder full of files and right hand holding a black coffee, he didn't expect to see a shaking, small woman sitting in the cotton chair. She hair a blush on her increasingly not face and seemed mildly uncomfortable, squirming in the chair. ’ This was her?’, he thinks to himself, continuing past her and past the secretary booth, in pursuit of his office. She was gorgeous and her thighs would provide a great handle for him to pull her back on his aching dick.

Bucky sits in his plush seat, yawning before smiling to himself. He sends his nurse to get the young woman sitting there, waiting patiently. For a painful hour, he waits until he is ready to see her. His cock was throbbing in his pants, thinking about the wet mess that would be laying in front of him. He wasn't disappointed when he walked into a dripping wet pussy, facing the door. He had to hide his perverted side away and put on his friendly side.

"Good Morning, Miss." he says as he puts on some hand sanitizer and puts on his latex gloves. " How are we today?"

He hears the young women let out a sigh and breaths, shakily before speaking. " Nervous... ", god her soft voice was perfect. Shaky and quiet. It just made his dick jump in his pants again, but he has to control himself. ‘Don't freak her out more’ he tells himself before sitting himself in between her legs, putting his gloved hands on her warm thighs. He takes a deep breath, sneakily breathing the scent of her drenched, virgin pussy.

"Why ya nervous, dear? I'll help you out. Just tell me what's going on, alright?" he smiles when she nods in agreement. " What’s going on?"

He sits back and listens to the story over a 21 year old woman that never experienced hornieness or hormones. It's almost amusing to listen to the innocent woman laying on his table, rubbing her sticky thighs together. He acts professional, but in his mind, he was thinking of every way to " treat" his poor patient. As soon as she finishes, he scoots forward, putting his hands on her inner thighs and pulling them apart. " You know what you need? Some good old fashion relief.'' He is slowly losing his composure the longer she sits there with her pussy out in the open. " Let me help you."

He pushes her legs wide open, rubbing her inner thighs. He feels her tense, trying to close her legs. " Relax, darling" he presses his gloved thumb against her button. The little gasp she let out was music to his ears. She started to squirm, more arousal coming out of her little hole. He moves his thumb away only for thick strings of arousal wetting the gloved digit. He listens as her breathing quickens as he rubs his thumb against her sensitive nub.

"D-Doctor, what are you doing?” Her body temperature is slowly rising up as he continues rubbing her clit. Bucky smiles to himself, tracing his finger down to her opening, running it around her hole. He grips her thigh with an iron grip as she squirms around, trying to push back into the pleasurable feeling.

" You are so cute. This is all you needed to do, hun... But don't worry. I'll take care of you now." he chuckles, opening his mouth a bit, pushing his digit inside. She lets out a wanton moan. Bucky groans to himself as his cock was begging to let out of the ever growing tight jeans. He had to get a taste of her dripping wet cunt. Holding her thighs open as wide as they will go, he dips his head down, licking a firm stride along her cunt.

“D-doctor!” She lets out a gasp and closes her legs around his head. Bucky didn’t mind being trapped in her legs, close to her cunt, but he couldn’t breathe too well. He grabs her thighs and pulls them apart. He holds them tight enough to leave bruises while he works his magic mouth on her, sucking on her clit, relishing in her sweet taste. Virgin pussy has always tasted the best in Bucky’s opinion. He pulls away from her pussy, spits on it and goes right back down on her, hearing her moan out loudly, grinding on his face. His fingers climbed to the top of her cunt and pulled back the hood, giving him a more sensitive surface. He drools on her pussy, letting it dribble down on the table as he continues going down on her like a thanksgiving feast.

He feels a gushing sensation against his face, almost cutting off his airways. Bucky pried her legs off his neck and pulls away coughing. She was squirting everywhere, on the table, on him. Bucky groans, standing up, dripping wet. He takes off his sweater, and lab coat. He ties her up and smiles. “Look, you may be my favorite patient, but that doesn’t mean you can drown me.” He chuckles, shaking his damp hair. “Let me finish what I started darling.”

He starts taking off his belt, listening to her soft, quick breaths. She sounded scared, but Bucky was too horny to care at the moment. He got a taste of her virgin pussy, now he needed that virgin pussy on his cock. He needed to feel it squeezing around his every vein, every fucking inch as he forces himself into her tight hole. Bucky ties his back up and rubs his tip in her wet folds, smiling at the trembling woman, who was drooling a bit.

He aligns himself at her hole and pushes inside of her, bottoming out in her tight, warm pussy. It felt fucking amazing, the warmth made him feel like he was already about to fill her up. He grabs her thighs, thrusting inside, listening to pained groans and moans from the woman on the table. She squirmed against the confines of the lab coat and sweater tied to her wrists. Bucky moved his hips slowly, relishing in the pleasure of her cunt. “D-doctor..”, she groans out, breathly. The pleasure shot up her body, her eyes rolling back. Bucky pants to himself, eyes slightly crossing, loving the tightness and warmth.

He already felt like he was about to cum. Her pussy felt fucking amazing. The sticky, warm mess was more perfect then he could ever imagine. He looked down at her face, smiling as she was looking away with tears in her eyes and redness all over her face. He groans and wraps a gentle hand around her throat, so as not to scare the hell out of her. He turned her head back towards him, moving a bit faster.

Her hands grab onto his arm, whimpering and drooling. “D-dr. Barnes… Please… Please harder..”, She begged, getting redder with every word she said. He groans and stalls his hips, picking her up and fucking her into a wall. She cried out, scratching at his shoulders. “Bucky!”. She started to push on his chest, the pleasure became too much, but he didn’t stall. He holds her arms against the wall and pounds her little pussy, making it sticky and creamy. Her arousal drips down his cock and her legs, onto the floor.

He groans and pulls out, only to slam back into her. “Ah! F-feeling weird? L-lots of pressure”, tears run down her face. He smiles and decides to move slower. He makes sure that she could feel every inch and every fucking vein in his cock. He pushes her face into the wall as she started to fight back against the overwhelming feeling in her lower parts. She claws at his hand, shaking under him. She feels warm wetness run down her thighs and an overwhelming pleasure. Bucky kept going, chasing his orgasm. She pants, letting out little whines, being completely out of it. He kept going before pulling out of her and cums on his stomach and pussy. He coats his perfect body in his thick, white ropes. She looks at him with wide eyes, still trembling in his hands.

He gently put her down and helps her get cleaned up. She sits on the table, still tearful from being sore and confused. Bucky writes an address down on a piece of paper and gives it to her. “If you ever feel like that again, come to this address anytime… I’ll take care of you”, He pats her thighs, putting the crumbled piece of paper in his hands, smiling. He helps her out of the clinic and goes back to his office, satisfied. He is sure that she will be coming back to her every single fucking day.

[princessb4mbi]

MESSAGES I CAN’T SEND

꩜ tags black!reader, therapist!eren, college setting, age gap (reader in 20s, eren in 30s), power dynamic, not so protective sex? mentions of death [not proofread]

꩜ synopsis isn’t it obvious to hide your private life better? or was it not obvious when a video of you dry-humping a pillow was sent to your therapist.

@ word count 3.6k

story below the cut !!

ever since you’ve lost your mother to old age, your mental health has spiraled downwards a little bit. you’ve had the privilege of knowing when she WOULD die and at-least died in a proper place rather than somewhere shitty, so that’s cheered your spirits up a little bit. she was your best friend though, and losing your best friend is painful. you went to her whenever you could, talked on the phone for hours, and slept in her bed every night as if you were still five years old. 

you weren’t the only one suffering though, your childhood friend sasha couldn’t stand watching you wither away. even though she did everything she could, she knew she was capable of oh so much. 

you weren’t the only one suffering though, your childhood friend sasha couldn’t stand watching you wither away. even though she did everything she could, she knew she was capable of oh so much. 

“do you want me to hook you up with my therapist? he’ll seriously help you clear all cloudy thoughts away y/n,” sasha says caressing your cheeks

you move your face away from her hand, “they aren’t cloudy thoughts sas, im just grieving my mother..” 

“i know baby, i know.. but i don’t want to grieve YOU if you die of a heartbreak. i want you to get better, physically and mentally.” sasha looks at me emphatically.

she pulls out her phone and scrolls through her contacts until stopping at a card called “dr.jaeger”. “listen, give him a call please. his prices are cheap and his place is nice. it’s not like those dull white offices with an ugly long chair and a monotone person.” 

you sighed, reluctantly agreeing to her copying and pasting the number to your phone. “okey, i gotta go now babe, but PROMISE me you’ll give him a call, he’ll help you, and if he doesn’t i’ll play for any of your bills ok?” sasha says packing up her stuff. she kisses your cheek before leaving the quiet study area, leaving you alone to your own thoughts. 

you stare at the contact card, pulling dr. jaeger’s name up on your laptop and scrolling through his website. sasha was right about one thing, his prices WERE cheap. about $65 an hour and he also had packages where two weeks of therapy would be about $350 in total.   

the prices however, weren’t enough to convince you fully, as your scroll down to see the reviews.  

“dr. jaeger saved me. after the loss of my wife, i never felt like so lonely, but my daughter told me about him and he’s helped me heal properly and not turn to anything crazy. he’s an amazing person with amazing talents as such a young age. 5 stars” 

ok.. that was something. not that you were going to invalidate them, but that seemed just.. fake. you decided to read another one.

“oh my gosh. no one would believe how amazing someone is at listening and understanding a person’s thoughts. dr. jaeger was nothing like those terrible therapists who make you pay $100 for an shitty hour call. oh how i wished i can say more, but the character limit is fu” 

you giggled at that one. maybe i should give him a call. with a deep breath, you called the number. 

“hello? my name is y/n, i’d like to speak to dr. jaeger please.” 

— 

it’s been about a month since you’ve scheduled a session with dr. jaeger, only having to wait that long due to “heavy traffic”. sasha is currently driving you to the building. 

“you know, i’m really proud of you for calling. i was scared you were going to stay depressed forever.” sasha says over her 80s radio playing. 

“let’s not get too happy yet, he could still be shit at his job..” you say cutting down any happy thoughts. 

“you’re STILL doubting him y/n? i get that some people are money hungry, but i promise you he’s not. if he was, do you think ME of all people would be recommending you to him? i mean c’mon, have some faith please.” 

“i’m sorry, i just nervous ok. my stomach is doing backflips at the moment.” 

“hey man, if you feel like farting, ill park somewhere and you can walk the rest of the way.”

you two pull up to the parking lot, fancy with a modern style front. the office itself if very modern and 2 floored. 

“k, i’m gonna drop you off here, call me when you’re done ok?” 

you walk out of sasha’s car, waving her goodbye while she drives away. you walk into the sleek office, with painting from what you the assume were from the last two centuries. 

the receptionist greets you with a nice smile “welcome, how may i help you today?” you give her your name. “ah i see, you right on time then, ill have this guard guide you to dr. jaeger’s office.” just then, a semi tall man with a black uniform from comes in-front of me. “right this way.” 

he leads me into the elevator, where he then leads me into a hallway with lots of rooms. there’s multiple therapists in this building, all with different ways. as i look through the glass windows, i see pet therapy, group therapy and even massage therapy. the guard finally stops at a door, with a name tag having “DR. JAEGER” on it. “here’s your room, have a nice day.” he says as he’s walking away. you give him a quick thank you and knock on the door. 

a deep “come in.” follows shortly after, and you enter the room. first impression of when you enter the room was that sasha was right. the room was anything from boring, and didn’t have white walls but instead had a mix of brown and auburn. there was lots of old-style decor too. a record player, cd’s and even the tv was kinda old. 

however you were greeted with the most shocking thing of all, dr. jaeger himself. he looked away from his papers, to look at you and gave you a warm smile. his visuals was… something you didn’t expect. most therapist are middle-aged men and women, that are sort-of not the most attractive. but that was ok, because they wanted to help you, not seduce you. dr. jaeger on the other hand was extremely beautiful. he has dark brown hair, put up in a semi-messy bun, the most luscious green eyes, and very kissable pink lips. 

i guess you were admiring his facial features for too long to notice dr. jaeger looking at you weirdly. “maybe un-responsive.” he mutters to himself, typing down on his laptop. upon hearing his words, you apologize and scurried to the seat in-front of him. 

“or not. . . my name is dr. jaeger, if you’ve haven’t gotten a chance to see on the door.” 

“i did, sorry for not responding earlier.” 

“it’s ok, its common for most genders to be shocked at how i look.” dr. jaeger said in a non-concerned voice. you were took aback a little by his comment, most genders to be shocked at how he looked? you were wondering if he was just annoyed at the common occurrence or just knew that he was an attractive man. “pushing that aside,” he sighed “sasha has told me a lot about you.” he says looking up at you. 

“she did?” you question.

“mhm, she cares for you ms….” he looks at the paper look for your last name. 

“y/l/n.” 

“ah, thank you. sasha cares for you ms. y/l/n. she talks about your recovery, and wants you to best happy for her.” he says maintaining eye contact. you can’t respond to such kindness. all you can do is nod your head and smile. 

“but as a therapist view-point, the death of a loved one is one of the hardest battle we have to overcome as a human being. no matter how emotionless a person may be, the death of anything else to them will always cause someone to break. that’s just how we are, we humans . . . after all.” he says empathically. 

“my job isn’t to make you forget your mother, or forget the pain you feel about her. you always feel pain lingering about her, and that’s ok. i’m just here to help you reduce that pain.” 

you were shocked. cheap prices, handsome therapist AND a good one at that? maybe it’s good to stay faithful after all. 

— 

it’s been about 3 weeks since you’ve had daily therapy sessions with mr. jaeger and he’s honestly been helping you a lot. you had different kinds of sessions, like walking around and even some pet therapy. today was for a usual one-on-one walk around the building beautiful outside landscape.

as you and dr. jaeger walk around, you wave to the other clients with their own therapists. “see how social you’ve gotten? when we first came here, you were begging to stay back inside due to all the people,” he jokes around. “now, you’re friendly with them. it’s good progress.” he smiles to himself. 

“it was only because of you, dr. jaeger. i don’t think i’d be the way i am without your help.” 

“ah. . . don’t flatter me too much. let’s sit right here yea?” he says pointing towards the swinging wood benches. “it’s beautiful outside, isn’t it ms. y/l/n?” he turns to look at you. 

“yea, it really is.” you turn back to stare at him. god, you can stare into his eyes for hours. it’s something that about that were so addicting, that you couldn’t look away if you wanted to. to break the silence, you decided to follow up with a cheeky comment. “say dr. jaeger, you really know how to keep a client.” he moves his head to the side, confused. “i like to believe that my clients stay with my due to how i help them and not my looks.” ah fuck. it was not received well at all, and you just profusely apologized to him. 

“but, if my looks did make people stay, that wouldn’t be all too bad huh,” he says giving a hearty laugh. “but tell me now, ms y/l/n. does my looks make you stay?” you were at a loss for words. one part of you wanted to say “fuck yes” while another part of you wanted to say “absolutely not”. and you of course went with the latter. 

“whatever your answer is, it doesn’t bother me either way. . . but it looks like our time is up ms. y/l/n.” you look down at your phone for the time. it was up after he exclaimed. the two of you head back to his office to pick you up your stuff. 

that night later, you were chilling in your bed, getting ready to dose off. you however, couldn’t sleep without thinking about a fantasy. it didn’t matter what type, other than it having to be something interesting. you close your eyes, your mind shifting to dr. jaeger, and the moments between you two that drove you insane. like that one time he wore a turtle neck, showing off his clothed six-pack abs. you imagined yourself touching them, feeling the rock-hardness of them. you open your eyes again, looking around the room. to be honest, you haven’t.. you know what, in a while and you thought it might be time to do it again. 

you move your bedsheets closer to the edge to give you more space. and moved all your pillows away except for one. you pulled your phone out and started to record. it might seem weird to other people, but you like to record yourself, in the time that you couldn’t find anything good on twitter or reddit. 

you start to rock your hips back n forth on the pillow, assuming it the body of a male. maybe it was dr. jaeger body you could’ve been assuming it off. either way, it turned you on, seeing how you started to move faster on your pillow. one of your hands grip the pillow, as the other hand massages your boob. you move faster, enjoying the friction your clit is getting between the pillow and your soaked panties. you close your eyes, imagining dr. jaeger guiding your body with his big, veiny hands. as you’re about to climax, you can’t help but subtly whimper his name. 

once you’ve finished, you end the video. while you’re cleaning up, sasha enters the room. “hey girlie, i was thinking of getting some drinks tomorrow night? wanna come?” she says exciting. “i would but i have a session with dr. jaeger tomorrow.” 

“boo, you’re boring.” 

“whatever, i’m going to the shower, so let me know if anything happens ok?” 

“yea yea boring y/n.” 

you go to the bathroom and take off your clothes, hopping inside the shower. you turn on the water, letting the lukewarm water hit your skin. you are alone with your thoughts until sasha comes inside the bathroom. 

“not to be nosey, but dr. jaeger texted you.” she says. 

“mhm really? what did he say?” 

“i didn’t look at it properly, but something about a daily wellness video?” you knew right away. dr. jaeger usual makes his clients make videos of themselves with positive affirmations, then with their consent, he’ll use it on his website for future clientele. 

“ahh ok! just send him the most recent video.” you photo gallery takes forever to update, so there’s a chance it’ll take forever to show the video of your “naughty time”. 

“ok, sending right now… and it’s sent. if he wants a further conversation, i’ll let you know.” 

“thanks sash.” 

as you walk out the steamy bathroom, and get ready for bed, you check your notifications for any new ones. you go into the chat between you and dr. jaeger, seeing if theres anything new. you took a look at the video of your affirmation, seeing the shirt you wore today as the thumbnail. you clicked on it, expecting your face to zoom out, as you were testing the camera quality always. to your shock, you camera didn’t zoom out. but instead was your body moving back and forth on something. your heart dropped. it couldn’t be. you’re praying it wasn’t. you skip some of the video to see if it was truly what you think it was, but the video suddenly changed to a more in-depth shot of you humping the pillow with your panties being in view. 

your heart start to beat faster than usual. you click off the video to delete it right away. dr. jaeger didn’t respond to it, and it said it was ‘delivered.’ you wanted to tell yourself that he hasn’t seen it, and probably watches those videos early in the morning. you weren’t going to stress yourself out though, you were just gonna go to his office per usual, and get counseling per usual.

— 

you take a deep breath and knock at his door, hoping it all ends well. you hear his “come in” but it sounds different from before. his voice went an octave lower. you walk into the room, seeing a more “messy” side of dr. jaeger. at-least he didn’t look at cleaned up as he usually does. his bun was a lot more frizzy from before and he had two buttons undone on his button up shirt. 

maybe he had a rough morning. you think to yourself. “good morning ms. y/l/n. how was your night?” you stopped for a second. such a simple question was something so dangerous to you. “it was fine, dr. jaeger. how about yours?” 

“oh. one of the best i’ve had in a while.” 

“ah. mine was the worst i’ve had in a while.” you mumbled. 

“really? i would’ve assumed you’ve had a very nice night ms. y/l/n.” 

you stare at him confused. what could he mean by that? yea, you fixed your hair a little better than usual, and your eye bags have gone away overtime, but you truly did have a sleepless night yesterday. dr. jaeger gets up from his chair, to lean on his desk, standing in-front of you. he stared down at you with his usually lighter colored eyes now displayed a dark-green. and his pupils were more extended. 

“i don’t know what gives you the impression that i’ve had a nice night dr. jaeger.” 

he bends to to match the height of the chair, and put both of his hands on the rest, restricting me from mounting off of it easily. “let’s cut the crap, y/n. i saw what you sent me.” at this moment, it felt like 100 daggers were suddenly lodged into your chest. 

“i wondered why you asked what you did yesterday. i thought to myself ‘maybe she thought i was attractive’, but i see it was more than that i see,” he says not breaking eye contact. “you see, as a human, we see something we like, and have many kinds of thoughts about it. and i see the thoughts you have towards me are stronger than what i expected.” 

“i’m truly sorry dr. jaeg-“ 

“call me eren, seeing as that is what you called me in the video.” 

“i’m sorry eren, truly. i don’t want to do anything to make you uncomfortable or hurt this relationship between us.” i say holding back my tears. 

“hurt? uncomfortable? those words are out of the park right now,” he says standing up. “to be honest, tell me why you came today y/n.” 

“to have a therapy session with you.” you meekly say.

“is my looks standing in the way of you healing with the death of your mother?” he says standing behind me. 

“not at all, dr. jae- eren.” 

“so then what provoked you to send me a five minute long video of you fucking yourself to a pillow in the imagination that it’s me?” you were at a loss for words. he was right. your heart sank as his word dug deeper into you. and you couldn’t hold back your tears anymore. you started to quietly sob, feeling large hands down your shoulders. you feel a hot breath near your eyes chill down your spine. “don’t cry, not in this manner at least,” he says in your ear. 

“cry because you can’t handle it, y/n.��� 

you stopped and turned to look at him. he had a devilish grin on his face. “handle what?” you say, not catching his gist. 

“you’ll find out soon enough.”

eren lifts you up by the arm and spins you around to face him completely. you didn’t know what was going on, but you didn’t want to push away. your faces was a mere 4 inches away from each other. “can i? y/n. . . can i give you what you want?” 

you look at his eyes then his lips then his eyes again. fuck it, you nod your head and eren kisses you passionately. he stops kissing you for a moment to push the chairs aside. you look at his desk to see his usually messy papers cleaned up to the side. he planned this probably . . . eren picks you up and places you on his desk. 

he places a hand on your chin, rubbing it gently. “open it baby,” he says as his kisses you again, but placing his tongue all over the inside of your mouth. his hands tug on the bottom of your shirt, signaling for it to be removed. in between each kiss, you both take off a piece of clothing until you up to your undergarments. eren slips his large hand under your breast, fondling with it while he leaves wet hickeys on your neck. with the other hand he unclasps the bra, throwing it the ground. he kisses you again, muttering “nice tits”.

you pull at the band of his underwear, “want you in me ren’.” you whine. “patience baby.” eren says sliding your panties off to the floor. 

“are you on any pills by any chance?”, he says rubbing ur slick all over your cunt. “m-mhm ren.’”

“good. so i don’t have to hold back.” 

eren slips his underwear off, revealing his long, veiny and girthy dick. you want to guess it’s around 6-7 inches, but it was gonna tear you up regardless. he strokes his dick, ‘lubing’ it up with his pre-cum. he inches closer to you, having his dick and your hole just one insert away from each other. you open your legs wider and lay down on his desk, giving him more access to yourself. “didn’t even have to ask.” eren said.

he teases the tip of his dick on your clit. your whole body tingles in response, arching your back off the cold desk. “please ren’…” you beg, desperately wanting his dick buried into you. “please fuck me eren.” 

“as you wish.” with that, eren aligns himself with your entrance, slowly pushing himself in. the both of you moan simultaneously from the pleasure you both felt. eren starts to push his hips back and forth into you, keeping a firm grip on your waist. eren keeps a nice pace, making sure to satisfy both sides. suddenly, eren lifts your legs, wrapping them around his waist. you jolted from the tingle he gave you. you were trying to conceal your moans, but every time it was getting louder than usual, eren made sure put his hand over your mouth.

eren’s pace starts to unstable, moving fast at times and then slowing down to grind himself on you. you can tell he was close to his climax, seeing how desperate and shaky thrusts were. 

“‘m so close baby. . .” he grunts. 

“‘ren please! mhm.” you whine, begging him to release. 

“at the same time? what a good girl..” he barely breathes out. 

eren picks you up by the waist to pull you closer to him. there wasn’t enough space between you too, but he didn’t care. eren grinds his dick into you, feeling his dick throb in your walls. then, you feel a warm liquid pour inside of you, while at the same time cry out from your orgasm. 

[buffyspeak]

shoutout to the therapist dr aurelius guy from the end of mockingjay btw. like on a slightly depressing note i think part of the point of him on a thematic level is how talk therapy is not necessarily built for everyone or to deal with every problem. like katniss is traumatized in ways she probably will always be struggling with, and some people (and i have been guilt of this in the past!) use therapy as a bandaid for every bad thing a character goes through when people are just simply more complex than that. so katniss can grow and find love and solidarity and comfort but that doesn’t mean she’s like, Over It or ever will be because who would be honestly!!! katniss notably likes him because he doesn’t offer any hollow assurances like “it will all be fine” or “you are perfectly” safe. he just offers to be a listening ear but doesn’t press that much.

on a much less depressing note i think he is SO funny. doc clearly knows all this and comes to her room just to take naps (because i imagine his workload has increased a Lot) and doesn’t try make her talk because he knows she won’t anyway. and then when katniss goes back to district twelve he SENDS A MESSAGE WITH PEETA like “girl you have GOT to stop screening my calls, i can’t keep lying for you” because i’m pretty sure katniss literally says they let her leave with the stipulation that she had to continue treatment with him lmao. such a small character but he’s so funny to me.

[legitalicat]

Get to Know...Aegon Targaryen ii

Cover done by @foxyanon ! This is a companion piece to The Lives of Friends, a collaboration between Foxy, myself, @zaldritzosrose, and @thenameswinter99 (writing blog @thenameswinterfics)

Interviewer: This is Gilbar Cheswright with TIME Magazine. Today I have been granted an exclusive with the once famed party boy turned CEO of Valyrian Holdings, one of the most successful businesses in Westeros, Aegon Targaryen ii. Aegon, thank you for joining me.

Aegon: Thank you for having me, Gilbar. It's such a an honor to be chosen for this piece.

GC: I am just glad we could make it work. Now, I want to get straight into it. You credit your uncle and former CEO of Valyrian Holdings, Maegor Targaryen, for your success today. How exactly did he come into play in your life?

AT: Well, my history with partying is no secret. You know, I didn't really have a strong support system in my parents. My dad was…well Viserys Targaryen has five children and none of us speak to him at this point, let's put it that way. And my mom, she didn't really have a leg to stand in to intervene and stuff. So, I found myself partying and drinking at too young of an age, and I even got into some heavy drugs. It was after my probably fourth or fifth stint in the hospital from an overdose that Uncle Maegor finally came and talked to me. He told me I was worth more than being a party boy and offered to send me to rehab. Up until that point, I can’t remember an adult in my life saying that to me. My siblings did, and of course my cousin Rhaenerys, but something about Uncle Maegor, in his proper business attire and his very professional demeanor, saying it to me really got to me.

GC: That's some heavy stuff. So, do you feel like you owe your Uncle in some way?

AT: I owe him everything. He paid for my hospital bills, my rehab stint. He paid for me to move into a better neighborhood and also paid for me to go to school so I could learn what I need for my job. He even got me a dog, Sunfyre, when I got out of rehab on the approval of my therapist so that I could have that companion and see the benefit of my life and sobriety is to others.

GC: Did you find it hard to transition into the business, given your history and considering you never had plans on touching it?

AT: I would be a liar if I said it was easy. I still find myself calling Uncle Maegor asking him questions. But like I said, he sent me to school before I took up the CEO position and he made sure I have an amazing support. He and Aunt Elvira are always in my corner, so is his mother my Great Aunt Visenya, my brother Aemond is our CFO, and I am beyond grateful to know my cousin Rhaenerys will always help if her duties at the museum allow it.

GC: You've mentioned your cousin, Rhaenerys, a couple of times. Can you tell me a bit more about her and your relationship? Was she always supportive of you taking over Valyrian Holdings?

AT: Oh, there's so much I can say about her. I would like to remind everyone reading she is Dr. Rhaenerys Targaryen, having earned her PhD in anthropology with a specialization in linguistics just a couple of years ago. I'm very proud of her, even though at first I didn't get why she wouldn't want to just have the company. I think she's always been one of my biggest supporters, and I will remain one of hers for the rest of my life. If she had wanted Valyrian Holdings, it would've been hers, but she wanted to forge her own path and has lifted up everyone around her while doing so. Even if I'm not the best at showing her all the time how much I appreciate her.

GC: It is so amazing that you have such a great support system. I'm sure they will be beaming with pride when they hear how you speak about them.

AT: I just hope they know it's the truth.

GC: So we’ve talked a bit about your past, your family, the business. I want to know, what are your plans for the future.

AT: Well a few months ago I bought myself a farm. It's really the perfect way to unwind after being in the city, but close enough that I don't have to worry about not being able to get somewhere if someone needs me. Ideally, I'll kind of get to grow that a bit more. I've got a horse and my dog currently, a field of crops going to kind of test the waters. And then, if I'm lucky, in a few years I'll be able to bring home my wife and then maybe start a family there, too.

GC: Is there any woman in particular? You haven't been publicly connected to anyone since you would party.

AT: I hope so. It's still pretty new, just about a month or two. If it were up to me, I'd have screamed her name from the rooftops after our first date. But she needs a bit more time, and I can respect that, cause my family is brought into the spotlight a lot more than I think she's ever been used to. So, all I can say is I'm really happy with her and I really can't wait to continue exploring our relationship.

GC: You sound like a man in love.

AT: Hahaha, I am definitely not saying that before I say it to her. But she is definitely very special and important to me.

GC: Haha, can't blame me for trying. Well, Aegon, thank you again for coming in and sitting down with me. Congratulations on being TIME’s Man of the Year, and I for one will be awaiting your future endeavors.

AT: Thank you, it's been a pleasure.