#Short Wave Therapy

[yashodahealthcarehospital]

The Yashoda Hospital's Centre for Rehabilitation and Sports Medicine strives to help patients in the remediation of impairments and disabilities, and the promotion of functional ability, mobility, movement potential and quality of life, regardless of condition or age.

Yashoda Hospital ensures that we treat everyone with empathy, compassion, and respect. Our quality healthcare places integrity and honesty at the mantle of our services. We work towards the pursuit of excellence, and hence we have upgraded our hospital with breakthrough technologies and excellent infrastructure.

[kisses4themissus]

Obsessive Lover || Hwang In-ho X reader

wc: 2.4k request: an obsessive!reader who joins the games for in-ho but turns her gaze to player 456. a/n: this is actually my fav concept I've written so far!!

masterlist ¦ pt 2

“Ms y/l/n, you can’t keep chasing after an unknown man.” The therapist sighed as he sat down across from you at the table. You sighed as you swirled around your water.

“He’s not unknown. I’m being honest he knows of me, i can feel it!” You giggled at the therapist. He sighed before writing something down on his small notepad be had beside him. You watched as he jolted something down and quickly flipped it over so you couldn’t be able to read it.

“Moving on, you haven’t made progress in six sessions ms y/l/n.” The therapist placed his hand on your thigh, you flickered it off before standing up and walking to the door.

“What progress? You mean you trying to get me to sleep with you?!” You chuckled at his shocked expression; majority of his clients had been woman. You weren’t there for his sympathetic therapy but rather he was quickest way to gain debt.

- - - - - - - - - - -

You groaned as you sat on a bench, waiting for the next train. You dug through your bag before pulling out your phone; zooming in on the map to a familiar memorial site. 

“May I sit here miss?”

You nodded, not looking up from your phone’s map. “Lost?” The same man questioned. Putting down your phone you glanced at the man with an upset look. He had his hair combed back, his briefcase place between the two of you. 

You blinked at the man before grinning at him. “Let me guess, you want to play a game?” You batted your lashes at the man, he chuckled in response. “I was told that you happen to be looking for a certain someone..” He motioned towards your phone.

You nodded, turning it off before scooting closer to the man. “Possibly, do you know how to get me there?” 

He nodded and opened his suit jacket and handed you a card. “Just call the number.” He winked before getting on the next train. You watched as he left before flipping the card over to see the number. You grinned before stashing it in your phone case. 

- - - - - - - - - - -

Weeks had passed since your encounter with the recruiter. You had entered the games and were picked up on halloween.

Classical music filled your ears as you woke up from your deep sleep. Looking around you watched with curious eyes as other players got up from their bed and made their way to the middle of the room. You quickly got up and looked around the room.

Your gaze stopped at player 456, he stood at the end of his bunk, his eyes lowered as he watched everyone. “Upset?” You questions, he glanced at you before sighing. “These people don’t know what they’ve signed up to do.” 

You tilted your head at his words. “You know something don’t you?” You questioned.

He looked at you before motioning to the wall behind his bunk, you followed his gaze to see a camera above you both, you smiled and waved, player 456 glared at the camera before tugging you away.

“These games aren’t what you’re expecting.” He spoke sternly, you felt your face heat up at the short distance between you both. “Are you going to protect me then?” You smirked at the older man. He stared at you for a moment before distancing himself from you. “I’ll try to keep you alive if you listen to me.” 

You nodded at his words. The big metal doors in the middle of the room opened to reveal pink guards, the square guard walked up to the front of the room, catching eyes of the players.

Player 456 walked further down the steps of the bunks, you quickly skipped after him. You both listened as the square explained everything, a big piggy bank had lowered down from the ceiling. “Don’t be tempted, it’s all blood money you’d be spending.” Player 456 whispered to you, earning a nod. “I’m not after money here.” You grinned at the man, who shook his head and turned his attention back to the pink manager. 

- - - - - - - - - - -

After you had signed a wavier, you had been told a game would soon begin. You had stuck beside player 456 and even his friend who he had met on the stairs. You had gotten 456’s name due to his friend yelling it out on the steps.

The bright sun filled your sight as you three stepped outside, you eyed the giant statute of a doll on the opposite side of the field. “What’s that thing?” You questioned out loud, player 390 gasped as gi-hun popped out his dental implant. You turned back and stared at the dental implant before taking it from gi-hun’s froze hand.

You inspected the small implant and giggled as the inside had been missing a tracker. Gi-hun stared at the doll in horror as the voice spoke up over the speaker. “The first game will be red light, green light!” 

You quickly pocketed the dental implant with a sigh before turning back to gi-hun and his friend.

Gi-hun quickly pushed his way to the front, leaving you alone with his friend, jung-bae. You listened as the voice told the instructions over the speakers. Gi-hun yelled and got everyone’s attention.

You both listened as gi-hun yelled. “If you lose, you die!” Everyone around you laughed at him, you furrowed your brows at his words. “What is he even talking about?” Someone yelled out from behind you.

“Is he high?!” 

You glared at the woman beside you. With a scoff you shoved her away. “If they catch you moving they will shoot you from above!” He yelled ot, a bit frustrated no one took him serious. Whirling came from the doll as it turned around and raised it’s hand to touch the fake tree, five minutes popped up on the board behind the doll.

Gi-hun turned back to the crowd. “Whatever happens don’t panic and just keep running.” He yelled out.

The doll began to speak. “The hibiscus flower has bloomed.”

You quickly listen to gi-hun’s words and ran. As the doll turned back you were right by gi-hun. His eyes ran over the crowd of frozen players. “FREEZE!” He yelled out.

You watched as the doll turn around. The eyes moving in different directions, once confirmed no one had moved it turned back once more. You had made it halfway across the field before tripping right before the doll turned around. You laid on the dirt, frozen. Once in the clear you scrambled to get up but stopped as another player, 196 stepped on your hand. You scoffed as you glanced up at her. 

“You bitch!” You cursed as she stopped on your hand. “Oops!” She grinned down at you.

You froze once more as the doll turned back to you all. You held back groans as she purposefully moved her weight to her heels, adding pressure to your hand.

Once in the clear, you had been able to get up, a familiar build had stepped in front of you. Gi-hun helped you up before stopping as the doll turned. 

From the corner of your eye you had seen the player that stepped on your hand move as a bee landed on her neck. She stopped and laughed, “Crap, I moved!” As she laughed, she was shot in her forehead.

“Don’t panic, stay calm!” Gi-hun yelled as he heard the gunshot. “Player 196 has been eliminated!” The announcement rang out on the speakers. You tensed up as gunshots began to ring from behind you as other players screamed and scrambled.

Once stopped the rules repeated over the speakers, before a list of players who had died. Gi-hun quickly ran to the front and began to direct everyone.

In-ho watched quietly in his living quarters as he watched gi-hun help player live. He quickly poured whiskey into his glass and reclined a bit in his chair as he watched players begin to form lines.

As it had gotten to the end. In-ho furrowed his brow as he watched gi-hun and another player both fall to the ground before the doll turned. He watched confused as gi-hun’s back covered the other player.

You stared up at gi-hun who stared directly into your eyes. You smirked at the older man. “In front of everyone? Didn’t think you had it in you!” You giggled at his fluster reaction. “When that doll turns we ned to get up and across the finish line!” He commanded, making you nod.

Once the doll had turned you both had sprung onto your feet and ran to the finish line, barely making it in time as the timer hit zero.

You panted with a grin on your face, suddenly the roof had began to close above you all.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Once back in the dorm everyone had been silent. You sat on the bed steps by gi-hun. “Thank you for saving me!” You smiled at the man, who nodded. “Thank you for listening to me.” He thanked you before moving his gaze to his blood splattered cover shoes. With a sigh you sat down beside him, leaving little to no space.

“Gi-hun, how did you know about the doll’s eyes being able to shoot people down?” You questioned. He sighed as his attention was his hands. “It’s not the doll, there are soldiers that are hidden.” He avoided the main part of your question.

Jung-bae walked over to you both and stood in front of you two. “How did you know about that doll? Is it true you’ve been here before?” Jung-bae questioned. 

Before gi-hun could respond the big metal doors opened, out walked pink triangles and their square once more, as the manager spoke about voting you watched as they set up a machine.

You watched as the room darkened and the piggy bank filled with money. Gi-hun sighed and tugged on your wrist to catch your attention. “No matter how much there is in that piggy bank, you have to vote to leave!” He pleaded as you held his gaze.

You nodded as you stared into his brown eyes. As voting began you watched as players were divided. When you had finally gone up you winked as you passed gi-hun. You pressed down on the X and received a patch, you quickly attached it to your jacket before bouncing over to gi-hun’s side.

You both watched as the vote finally tied, you all watched as the final player walked to the machine. The machine made a sound, gi-hun looked defeated as the board read out 51. “Very well, majority have vote to keep the games going.” The square announced.

In-ho turned back to face the crowds, his eyes focusing on gi-hun. His gaze shifted as he watched a familiar stalker comfort the man, leading him to the bunks.

- - - - - - - - - - -

You sighed as you sat next to a frowning gi-hun. “You said you’ve been here before, correct?” You asked, holding onto his arm. “Three years ago..” He nodded.

“You have advantage, you know what games were played.” You grinned, he sighed rolling his shoulders back. You both had spent the time talking about his previous game and the games he had to play in. You were interrupted by the workers announcing dinner. You quickly popped up and lead him to the line to get your food.

- - - - - - - - - - -

You sighed as you waited to hand back your dishes to the staff. You grew bored of waiting, you turned around to check on gi-hun, a crowd of player had formed around him your gaze had stopped as you recognized one of the player number 001; the one who had stopped gi-hun’s wish of leaving the place with everyone alive. You scoffed at the players who surrounded the man, asking him questions of his previous game.

Once your dishes had been handed back. You marched over to the now empty space. You sat back down next to gi-hun, watching player 001 with careful eyes. 

“If we stick together, everything should work out just fine!” Jung-bae exclaimed, another player hopped off their bunk and joined the conversation. “He’s right sirs, oh and miss.” Player 388 nodded in agreement to jung-bae’s words.

“Who are you?” Jung-bae questioned.

“Oh i’m dae-ho, kang dae-ho! I’m a big fan of this guy since his awesome freeze earlier!” He grinned, holding his hand out for the men to shake.

You nodded as you watched the man in front of you. You sighed, slipping your hand into your pockets, a sharp poke made you jump for a moment before grinning at the memory of gi-hun’s implant in your pocket.

“I’d like the pleasure of getting to know you all!” 

You hadn’t noticed the stare of in-ho as you were busy fiddling with the implant in your palm. Jung-bae had gotten up from where he sat and walked over to the young man and rolled up his sleeve. 

“You were in the marines?” Jung-bae asked, standing back crossing his arms over his chest. “Yes sir.”

“Class number?” He questioned, puffing out his chest.

The younger man laughed at the question. You all watched with amusement as jung-bae unzipped his jacket to reveal his marine tattoo. Gi-hun sighed at his friend. You leaned over and laid your head on gi-hun’s shoulder. “Thank you for saving me again, i’ll protect you from now on in here!” You smiled at the older man who shook his head at you.

“It’s alright, you don’t have to do that.” Gi-hun cleared his throat, trying to push down the feeling of fluster you had given him.

In-ho watched with jealousy, he had known who you were; the stalker you had gained a fascination with him. Sending him letters to his old office, visiting his ex-wife’s grave, leaving her flowers. You had been admitted to a mental hospital for delusions. He was a bit excited when he had heard the news you had drowned yourself in debt to get his attention, he had sent the recruiter after you, hoping to see your obsession in person.

It was offensive that you had switched your toxic gaze to the “loser” winner; seong gi-hun. You had careless of his identity being in front of you but brushed him to the side as you cuddled into gi-hun’s side.

“You two seem close, it’s cute.” In-ho’s word dripped of sarcasm, you had picked up on it and glared at the player before turning to dae-ho and jung-bae. 

“You seem like an asshole...” You muttered under your breath.

pt 2

[ragingbookdragon]

Whoever decided to ring her doorbell in the middle of a midnight thunderstorm was either a serial killer or a poor soul stuck out in the rain. Either way, she still felt sorry enough for whatever poor bastard was stuck outside and decided to open the door, but her expression dropped into annoyance when she saw the man leaning against the doorframe.

“Hey,” he murmurs, gazing at her. “Long time no see.” She starts to close the door and he sticks his foot in it. “Wait, please, don’t close me out.”

“Like you did to me,” she retorts, opening the door. “What do you want, Simon?”

He glances back towards the rainy street and hefts his rucksack higher on his shoulder. “To stay the night.”

“Seriously?”

“Please?” He begs and she pauses—Simon Riley wasn’t a man who begged often.

She gazes at him a moment longer before sighing and opening the door. “Clothes and shoes off at the door. Mask too. You’re soaking wet.”

“What gave you that ‘int? The rainstorm?”

Turning, she shoots him a glare. “I’m letting you stay the night despite you breaking my heart. I’d be a little less sarcastic.”

“Sorry,” he mutters, starting to strip his clothes as he shuts the door behind him. He hands her his clothes, standing in his boxers, then cups the front of himself and asks. “You wouldn’t happen to have any of my clothes shoved in the back of your closet…would you?”

“Bottom drawer in the chest of drawers.”

“You kept my clothes? Aw, you still car—” he falls silent when she glares at him. “Going now.”

As she disappears into the laundry room, she calls out, “What did you do, walk here from the base? You know Birmingham has cabbies, right?”

“I’m not wasting money to drive twenty minutes when I can walk within an hour.”

“You know you’ll get sick from this.”

“Wive’s tale. Can’t get sick from the rain.”

“Smart-ass,” she retorts, shoving his clothes in the dryer.

He comes around the corner, leaning against the doorway with a hand towel thrown over his shoulder, short blonde hair sticking up in all directions, evident he’d dried off with it.

“That is a decorative towel, not for use.” She glares at him. “You know that too.”

“You moved the other towels.”

“Oh, for god’s sake,” she mutters, then looks at him, eyes trailing down to where the sweatpants hung low on his hips. “Put a fucking shirt on, floozy.”

“I couldn’t find one,” he replies with a small smirk. “You must’ve used ‘em for fuel for the fireplace.”

She stands up straight and walks up to him. “Why are you here, Simon?” Her voice is quiet, calm, waiting.

He looks down at his feet, shifts his weight and murmurs, “Missed you.”

“You left me.”

“I know.”

“You start going to therapy yet?” She asks and he purses his lips.

“SAS doesn’t exactly offer therapy, y’know that, right? Not exactly ‘ow we operate.”

She crosses her arms over her chest. “You know I asked that friend of yours, what was his name? Soap? He said that the SAS offers routine psychiatric care and therapy. He also happened to mention you conveniently manage to get out of it every single time.”

Simon lets out a grunt and pinches his brow. “Soap can’t mind ‘is own fuckin’ business.”

“He’s your friend. And he was also drunk.” She waves a hand. “Regardless, you haven’t done the one thing I told you that you would have to do if you wanted to come back—no, when you came crawling back.”

“I don’t need therapy. I just want a second chance.” He shifts to his full height, looks at her with a pleading look. “Things were good between us, love. You know they were.”

“Sure, when you weren’t shutting down when you were hurting emotionally or running off to God knows where when you had a mission and didn’t leave me a notice.”

Simon sighs. “I was protectin’ you. I didn’t wanna drag you into all the shit I ‘ave to deal with on a daily. I didn’t want you to have to put up with…all of…”

She gives him a hard look. “Simon Riley, what part of me gave you the notion that I ever need to be protected or sheltered from what you do?”

He swallows thickly and gazes into her eyes. “Love…you’re too pure for me. What I do…you don’t need to know the horrors I’ve committed. You’re…you’re too beautiful for such things.”

“You mean how you kill people with no emotion? How you’ve taken lives with your bare hands? How you shove so much of yourself down into the black hole until there’s no humanity left but ‘Ghost’, the hollow killer?”

Simon stares at her, throat bobbing as he replies, “I can’t drag you to hell with me, it would kill me, love. What if—”

“Do you know the moment I knew I was in love with you?” She interrupts and he falls silent. “I was sick that one day a year ago, bad sick. And you told me not to go into work, but I didn’t listen and when I came home early, I could barely walk straight.” She places a hand on her hip. “And you helped me into the bathroom. Ran a bath in the dark, lit a few candles and you bathed me. Washed my hair. Took care of me. You were so gentle and so loving. Like a priest tasked with cleaning his alter, you cleansed me and made me feel safe.”

He shifts uncomfortably but his body language is anything but repulsed; it’s soft. “You started cryin’ when I was washin’ your hair. Thought I got soap in your eyes. But you said you just felt so loved.” He smiles then. “You were like a kitten really. Could barely lift your head. So tired and weak.”

“Mhm. And then you tucked me into bed and crawled beneath the covers with me. Laid up beside me, never once acted sexual. Just…caring.” She looks at him. “Do you remember what I said to you before I went to sleep?”

“No,” he mutters but he looks up at the ceiling and she knows he’s lying, it’s his tell-tale sign.

She gives him the benefit of the doubt and closes the distance between them, lays her hands on his chest, and says, “I said, ‘This is the real man beneath all that coldness. The real Simon. The one I knew I loved more than anything. No matter what.’”

Simon shudders beneath her touch, feels weak in his knees like he might drop to his and worship at her feet, beg for forgiveness like a sinner in confession. His chest aches, tightening as the words tear violently at his chest, a reminder that he left one of the only good things to ever come into his life, all because he was too afraid to let the walls come down, too afraid to be vulnerable, too afraid to risk being hurt—because if she hurt him, he’d never come back from it. In the end, he’d felt like a fool trying to protect a damsel who never needed saving in the first place; and he was left with the realization that she’d been protecting him the entire time.

“I know what you do, Simon. I know it’s hard, even if you don’t think it is. I know that no matter how you push your humanity down into that hole that it’s still there. I know killing someone takes something from you every time but, Simon, I’m not your enemy. I love you.” Her eyes are calm, but her voice is firm. “And I will not stand on the outside of the lines under some guise of protection. You either be upfront and honest with me about everything or you leave, and you don’t come back.”

Simon knows she’s asking him to choose now, and he feels that creeping anxiety rise in his throat like bile until he manages, “Can…can we talk about everything in the morning?”

She sighs and pulls her hands away. “Yeah, I guess so. Sheets and blankets are in the hall closet. You know where the couch is.”

“You’re not going to let me sleep in the bed?” He sounds incredibly offended.

“Couch, Riley.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles, but he can’t help but smile when she sets the bedding out on the couch for him. “Goodnight, love,” he murmurs as she passes, and her shoulders tense and she waves a hand.

“Goodnight, Simon.”

He sits on the couch for a few moments, watches the rain splatter against the window, the clock ticking on the wall, before he pulls out his phone and simply types, “I love you,” and sends it.

It’s quiet for a solid ten seconds before he hears, “You absolute bastard!” From the bedroom followed by, “Get in here!”

Simon gives a victory dance as he clears his throat and attempts to look innocent as he steps into her bedroom; she glowers and points to the other side. “You’re on that side.”

“You can make me,” he retorts and crawls into the middle of the bed, groaning when all the bones in his body snap and pop.

She rolls her eyes and goes back to her book, but after a moment, she shifts against the headboard, getting comfortable again. Simon lifts his head, watches her, then he moves and lays his head in her lap, his arms wrapped around her hips under the pillows behind her. Her eyes rise to the wall in front of her and she stares unamusedly at it before she switches the book into her other hand and rests her right hand at the back of his neck, gently thumbing the juncture of his spine and skull. He groans beneath her touch, shifts himself so that she has control over moving him, body going slack when she scratches her nails into his scalp.

“You’re like a cat,” she mutters, feeling his lips turn up against her thigh.

“Meow,” he mimics, and she snorts, feeling him move until his head is pressed into her stomach, face turned so she can see the right profile.

He watches until she puts the book down on her nightstand and turns into him; they gaze at each other, and his eyes gently shut when she cups his face, thumbs brushing over his features.

“You know I’m giving you another chance, don’t you?”

Simon swallows the lump in his throat and nods. “…yeah.”

“But we’ve gotta change. Or else we’ll end up back where we were before we broke up.”

“I know.” He opens his eyes and looks at her. “I’ve missed you, love.”

“I’ve missed you too,” she murmurs, bending down to press her lips to his forehead. “Doesn’t feel the same without you haunting my apartment.”

His lips turn up in a smile as she pulls back and lays on the pillows; Simon rises and crawls up her body, his nose brushing hers as he whispers, “I’ll do better for you. I’ll change. I swear it.”

“Yeah?”

His gaze turns solemn in a way she’s never seen before as he replies, “On their grave, I will.”

She smiles softly at him, pulls him down so his face is tucked in her neck, and replies, “Get some sleep.”

“I love you,” he mutters against her warm skin, arms tucked safely around her, body weight comfortably on her. “I love you more than the world.”

“I love you,” she says back, reaching up to turn off the lamp on the nightstand.

[tzuyubb]

Hypnosis Therapy

Pairing: Blackpink Jennie x Male reader

Word count: 4774 words

Tags: hypnosis, size kink, lingerie, spanking, discipline, SPH (of her ex’s), blowjob, gagging, deepthroat, throatjob, facefuck, throatpie, missionary, spread eagle, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, doggy style, pronebone, belly bulge, mind break, submission, slave, ahegao, deep penetration, rough sex, humiliation, creampie

A/N: I've been sitting on this draft for a while now. So, when I got a hypnosis prompt, I decided that it would be perfect as my proper comeback to smut writing. Honestly, I love the premise, so I might make it a series that I post along with The Gentlemen's Playground.

You sat in your office, a cozy and inviting space in the bustling heart of Seoul. Your unique approach to therapy has garnered a stellar reputation among the city's elite, including the world-famous music and entertainment industry. Your specialty was using hypnosis to guide your clients, helping them navigate the intense stress and pressure that came with their high-profile careers. Today, as you looked at the appointment list, your only session for the morning was with a new client, Jennie, a member of the girl group Blackpink.

Minutes later, you heard the doorbell ring, a wave of excitement washed over you and you unlocked the door. Jennie entered your office, her presence exuded both confidence and a hint of vulnerability. Her stunning beauty and charisma were undeniable, and you could easily understand why she had captivated fans worldwide.

"Hello, Jennie," you greeted her with a warm smile, your voice filled with genuine enthusiasm. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you. I've heard so much about you."

"Hi, Dr. Y/N," Jennie replied, her voice soft and slightly hesitant. "I've been told such amazing things about your work, so I'm hoping you can help me with some personal matters that have been troubling me."

You gestured to the comfy couch across from your chair, inviting her to take a seat. "Please, make yourself comfortable. Everything discussed within these walls remains confidential. You can feel safe sharing whatever is on your mind."

Jennie nodded, her eyes briefly scanned the tastefully decorated room, and she took a seat. "Thank you for seeing me on such short notice. I know your schedule is tightly packed."

"Not at all, I've only had the best experiences with your company, so when they contacted me for an appointment, I cleared the morning for our session" you assured her, your tone soothing. "Now, why don't you start by telling me what brings you here today?"

Jennie took a deep breath as if gathering the courage to share something deeply personal. "Well, it's about my… sex life," she began, a slight flush creeping onto her cheeks. "I've never openly discussed this with anyone, even the other members, but I feel like it's affecting my overall happiness."

You maintained a calm and supportive demeanor, creating a judgement-free atmosphere. "It's perfectly okay, Jennie. Sex is a vital aspect of our lives, and it's entirely valid to seek help in this area. Please, tell me more."

"It's just…" Jennie paused, carefully choosing her words. "I've never truly been satisfied with my sex life. All my past relationships… they've all left me feeling somewhat… physically unfulfilled."

You leaned forward, your eyes filled with genuine interest and empathy. "I see. I understand that this can be a challenging topic to discuss, but I'm here to listen and help in any way I can. Please, spare no detail."

"It's not just that," Jennie continued, her voice gaining confidence as she sensed your unwavering support. "The guys I've been with… they all had smaller… you know… and it's just never felt quite right for me. I've watched those porn videos, the ones with massive cocks stretching girls out, and I can't help but wonder what that would feel like. I've also heard stories from Lisa about her and her boyfriend and can't help but feel jealous."

Your eyes widened slightly at Jennie's sincere admission, but you quickly regained your composure and professionalism. "It's completely natural to have those curiosities and desires. Sexual pleasure is very personal, and it's okay to want to explore and experience different things that you may prefer," you say, your voice steady.

Jennie bit her lip, her eyes darted down to her fidgeting hands on her lap. "I know it might sound superficial, but I can't shake the feeling that I'm missing out on potential pleasure. All the guys I've been with have been Asian, and I guess I'm just curious about… bigger sizes."

You nodded mischievously, your mind formulating a plan to help Jennie in a way that would surpass her wildest expectations. "It's not superficial at all, Jennie. It's okay to have those thoughts and desires. In fact, I believe I can assist you with that."

Jennie looked up at you, her eyes filled with hope. "You can? How?"

"Well," you began, leaning back in your chair and smiling warmly. "As a specialist therapist, I have some unique methods at my disposal. One of which is hypnosis, a favourite amongst my regular clients."

Jennie's eyes widened in surprise. "Hypnosis? Like making people forget their names and sleep from a snap of your fingers?"

You chuckled and reassured her. "That's the kind of hypnosis you see in shows, meant for entertainment. However, the hypnosis I use is a powerful tool for therapy. It allows people to access their subconscious minds, making them more receptive to suggestions and open to new experiences."

"So, you're saying you're going to hypnotise me?" Jennie asked, her voice a mix of curiosity and skepticism.

"Yes," you replied confidently. "Under hypnosis, I can help you explore your deepest desires, release your inhibitions and pent-up feelings, and even potentially enhance your future sexual experiences."

Jennie's eyes sparkled with excitement and nervousness. "That sounds… intriguing. But what if I get stuck in hypnosis forever?"

You smiled "That's a common misconception. Hypnosis is a natural state we all experience daily, like when you're so focused on a task that you lose track of time. You always remain in control, even in a hypnotic state."

"Oh," Jennie said, looking slightly relieved. "So, how will you actually hypnotise me?"

"I'll guide you into a relaxed state, and then I'll make suggestions to your subconscious mind," you explained. "Your conscious mind might not recall everything, but your body and subconscious will respond accordingly."

"And you're confident this could help me?" Jennie asked, filled with hope.

"I'm sure it will," you assured her. "Now, are you ready to give it a try?"

Jennie took a deep breath and nodded. "Yes, let's do it."

"Wonderful," you say, your voice calm and soothing. "Just relax and focus on my voice. Close your eyes and take a few deep breaths…" Jennie followed your instructions, her eyelids gently closed as she inhaled and exhaled slowly.

"That's it," you continued, your voice low and hypnotic. "With each breath, you're relaxing more and more. Your body is becoming heavy, and your mind is calm and serene. You're safe and secure here, and your subconscious mind is opening up, ready to receive my suggestions." Jennie's breathing slowed, and her body sank into the plush couch.

"Now, Jennie," you continued "Listen closely to my words. You won't remember this conversation, but your mind and body will obey the following commands. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Jennie whispered, her voice dreamy and distant.

"Good," you say, filled with satisfaction and mischief. "From this moment on, you will be deeply aroused by my presence. The sound of my voice will make your pussy wet, and the very thought of me will make your heart race with desire. You will crave my touch, my kiss, and the feeling of my body against yours."

Jennie's body reacted to your words, her arousal was evident from the quickening pace of her breaths.

You continued "Your body is mine to command, you will become my obedient sex slave, eager to please me and able to fulfil your deepest desires. You will do anything I ask without hesitation, and your pleasure will be heightened by your submission to me."

Jennie moaned softly, her hands unconsciously moving to her thighs as her body responded to your words.

"You are mine, Jennie, my sexy and obedient slave," you whispered.

Finally, you instruct "When I snap my fingers, you will slowly open your eyes and be released from this hypnotic state. And when you look at me, you will be fully under my control."

*Snap*

Jennie's eyelids fluttered open, her eyes filled with desire as she gazed at you.

"Good girl," your voice laced with lust. "Now, stand up and undress for me, slowly and seductively."

Jennie rose gracefully from the couch, her movements fluid as she began to remove her clothing, piece by piece. Her hands trembled slightly as she pulled her top off, which revealed the alluring black bra beneath. After letting her top fall to the floor, she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her jeans, slowly slid it down her legs, and stepped out of it to stand before you in nothing but her provocative black lingerie set.

She then reached behind to unclasp her bra, freeing her full, round, and perky breasts. Her nipples, already erect and sensitive with arousal, caused her to moan softly after being exposed to the cool air. Her hands then moved to the thin straps of her panties, slowly pulling them down her thighs, over her knees, and onto the floor, which left her completely nude.

Your eyes feasted on her slutty body, taking in her creamy skin, ample breasts, and freshly shaved pussy. "Beautiful," you murmur, your voice thick with desire. "Now, come here, slave."

Jennie obeyed, walking over to stand before you.

"Turn around, I want to see that gorgeous ass" you exclaimed dominantly.

Jennie turned, presenting her firm, heart-shaped ass to you. Her cheeks clenched slightly as she felt your gaze on her, and a rush of excitement washed over her at being so exposed and vulnerable.

"Such a perfect view," you praised, as you reached out to gently caress her ass cheeks. "Now, bend over."

Jennie complied, bending at the waist and holding her calves. Her legs were slightly apart, exposing her swollen pussy lips that glistened with arousal.

You stood up and moved behind her, your hands roamed over her ass cheeks before they slipped between her legs to stroke her wet folds. "So wet already," you murmured. "You've been a very naughty girl, Jennie."

Jennie moaned softly, her head hanging down as she reveled in the sensations coursing through her body from your touch.

"Now, I'm going to give you a spanking. Count each strike out loud and thank me for it." you firmly instructed.

"As you command, Master," Jennie whispered, her body trembling with anticipation.

You raised your hand and brought it down sharply on Jennie's left cheek, leaving a bright red handprint. "One, thank you, Master," Jennie gasped, her voice laced with pleasure and pain.

You delivered another sharp smack, this time to her right cheek. "Two, thank you, Master," Jennie cried out filled with excitement.

You continued the spanking, alternating cheeks and landing each smack with force and precision, causing her ass cheeks to glow a rosy red. "Three, thank you, Master," Jennie chanted, her body trembling. "Four, thank you, Master. Five, thank you, Master. Six, thank you..."

"Enough," you exclaimed. "Now, get on your knees and show me how much you've craved a big cock."

Jennie immediately dropped to her knees, her eyes locked with yours as she reached for the waistband of your trousers. With deft fingers, she unbuckled your belt and pulled both your trousers and boxers down revealing your 12-inch erect cock, already pulsating with desire.

Jennie's eyes widened at the sight of your thick, veiny shaft, the head moistened with pre-cum. It was the biggest cock she had ever seen, and the thought of taking it inside her made her pussy clench with anticipation. A wicked smile crossed her face as she imagined the humiliation her Asian ex-boyfriends would feel if they saw her now, their tiny penises no match for the monster she was about to take.

Jennie took your command to heart, as she leaned forward, her full lips wrapped around the head of your throbbing cock. Her eyes locked with yours, a silent communication of her eagerness to please you and a hidden desire to prove her worth against the small cocks of her past.

Inch by inch, she slowly began lowering her mouth further down your shaft. She attempted to deepthroat you, her tongue swirling and her throat muscles relaxing to accommodate your impressive length and girth. The sensation was euphoric; her warm, wet mouth enveloped you, and her soft tongue massaged your sensitive underside. You finally felt her nose nudge your pubic bone as she took you fully, her eyes watering as she struggled to push through her gag reflex.

'That's it, Jennie,' you encouraged, your voice hoarse with desire. 'Take me all the way down, show yourself that you can deal with a real man.'

Jennie moaned around your length, the vibrations sent shivers down your spine. She withdrew slightly, only to plunge back down, her lips forming a tight seal around you. Her hands grasped your thighs, her fingernails dug into your skin as she took control of the rhythm, her head bobbing up and down at a steady pace. Her mind pictured the pathetic men she once dated, their small packages were no comparison to your mighty cock and each movement of her head was a silent victory over her past unsatisfying encounters.

The sight of her, on her knees, mouth stretched around your girth, was a powerful aphrodisiac. You placed your hands on her head, threading your fingers through her silky hair, and guided her movements. 'Such a good girl,' you praised 'But now, I want to fuck that beautiful mouth, and show you what you've been missing.'

With a nod, Jennie understood your desire and her craving for submission. She released your cock from her mouth, her lips glistening with saliva and pre-cum. You then guided her to the edge of the couch, and positioned her on her knees, her hands resting on the cushions. Jennie, filled with anticipation, opened her mouth, inviting you in and ready to prove her worth.

You grasped your shaft, placing the tip of your cock onto her waiting lips. With a firm thrust, you entered her mouth, and her tongue flicked across the sensitive underside of your cock, sending waves of pleasure through your body. The sensation was electric, her warm mouth enveloped you and her full lips caressed your shaft. You began to face fuck her, your hips snapped forward and back, each thrust pushing deeper and deeper into her throat.

'Look at me, Jennie,' you commanded 'I want to see your eyes as I use that pretty mouth and make you feel the power of a real man.'

Jennie's gaze met yours, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of pleasure and triumph. She moaned around your length, the vibrations intensifying the pleasure. Your pace quickened, with each motion a testament to your lust and her newfound purpose.

'That's it, my obedient sex slave,' you growled. 'Take it all in, let me use that gorgeous slutty mouth and show the world that you were made for bigger and better cocks.'

Jennie's response was a guttural sound of bliss, her body trembled as she surrendered to the primal act, her mind filled with images of her exes' tiny cocks in comparison to your massive member.

You increased your pace even further, your hips were a blur hammering into and out of her mouth. 'You're doing so well, Jennie, I want to feel your throat tighten around me as I cum. Show me how much you've craved big cock.' you exclaimed.

Jennie's eyes widened at your words, her body tensed in anticipation. You grasped her hair tighter, guiding her head in a synchronous rhythm that enhanced your deep thrusts. The room filled with the sounds of her sucking and slurping, and your heavy breathing as you neared your climax.

'That's it you whore, suck me dry, swallow my cum, and prove to yourself that you were made for more than those pathetic small cocks.' you grunted.

As you exploded, filling Jennie's mouth with your hot seed, her throat constricted around your shaft, milking every last drop. Her eyes never left yours, and you see her struggle to swallow the copious amount of cum you released.

Withdrawing your cock, it glistened with a mixture of saliva and cum. You then pulled her to the couch, her body still trembling from the intensity of the experience. 'Lie back' you instructed 'It's time for you to truly feel me.'

Jennie, her body flushed with arousal, followed your command and offered herself completely to your pleasure and to the fulfilment of her fantasies. She laid on the couch and spread her legs, a wanton invitation. You positioned yourself between her thighs, your eyes locking with hers as you placed your throbbing cock to her glistening core. 'Are you ready for this, my eager slave? Are you ready to finally experience fullness?'

'Please, Master,' she pleaded, her hands reaching up to pull you closer. 'I need your cock inside me. I need to feel you, all of you, and all at once.'

The desperation in her voice sent a jolt of dominance through you, and with a growl, you rammed your cock forward, claiming the depths of her pussy in one smooth motion. Her eyes flew open at the sensation of being filled so completely and perfectly, her mind briefly flashed to the disappointing encounters with her exes. 'Oh, my God,' she yelled, her back arching off the couch, her hands gripping the cushions as if to anchor herself during this overwhelming moment. 'It's so big! I've never felt so full!'

You paused, giving her a moment to adjust to your size, to the feeling of being stretched and broken in, and to the realisation that she could never go back. Then, with a primal need, you began to move, your hips snapped forward and backward, each thrust deliberate and powerful. You filled her again and again, each stroke erasing the memories of her previous sexual experiences.

'You like that, don't you? You like being fucked by a cock that destroys your tight Asian pussy, that makes you forget those insignificant little boys' you roared, pounding into her.

'Yes, Master!' she cried out. 'It's incredible! I've never felt so full, so completely satisfied! I was so wrong to settle for anything less!'

Her words spurred you on, and you showed no mercy as you drove into her, your hands roughly gripped her slender hips, leaving faint marks on her porcelain skin. Jennie's body became a canvas of pleasure, her breasts swayed, her nipples stood erect and tight, and her tight belly bulged with each thrust. Instinctively, her long legs wrapped around your waist, her ankles locked behind your back as you continued to thrust. The slight change in angle sent new waves of pleasure through her, and she cried out, her voice echoing off the walls.

'You feel that, slut? You feel how deep I can go, how much more pleasure I can give you' you asked.

'Master, I feel it! I feel your enormous cock throbbing inside me! I never want to go back!' Jennie groaned, her body moving in sync with yours, meeting your thrusts with her own.

You leaned down, capturing her mouth in a kiss as you continued to ram into her. The kiss was fierce, your tongue mimicked the rhythm of your hips and claimed her soul. Jennie responded with equal fervor, her hands grasped your hair and pulled you in as if she couldn't get enough of your taste, as if she had been starving for this kind of passion and pleasure.

You broke the kiss, sat up, and roughly grabbed her legs, spreading them as wide as they could go. Continuing to pound deep into her, Jennie's eyes rolled upwards, her mouth gaped open and her tongue hung outwards. She revealed her slutty ahegao face and it was a sight to behold. Her body and core began to clench around you, and you could feel her pleasure building to an intense peak "I'm close, Master!"

You suddenly pulled out, releasing your cock from her pussy's tight hold. "Not yet, my little slave, ride me and show me how much you crave this superior cock!" you commanded.

With a fluid motion, Jennie pushed you onto your back and rose, her body a vision of newfound confidence. Placing her hands on your chest for support, she then straddled your lap and roughly impaled herself with your cock. Taking control, she moved her hips in a forceful yet sensual rhythm, maximising her pleasure.

You grasped her hips and repositioned your own so that she could take you even deeper. Playfully, you encouraged her "That's it, Jennie, take all of me, fuck yourself on my cock like the whore you are."

Following your encouragement, Jennie continued to move her body up and down, moaning with a sound of pure satisfaction and triumph.

Seeing her ample breasts bounce, teased you to taste them. You placed her hands on your shoulders and, as she leaned forward, captured her right nipple between your lips. You sucked and teased her firm nipple as she continued to ride you. "Oh, yes! I love how my Master sucks on my sensitive tits!" she cried out, her body trembling.

After a teasing final suckle, you released her right nipple and focused on the left. This time, you playfully bit down and pulled her nipple with your teeth, causing her to moan with a mixture of pain and pleasure.

Feeling satisfied, you freed her tits and instructed her "Now, my eager slave, turn around and bounce that firm ass on my cock."

Jennie, her body shiny with sweat, complied and turned facing away from you. She got into a squatting position and lowered herself onto your shaft, her movements were slow and deliberate, and her back arched as she took you in, inch by inch. Her hands gripped your legs, her fingers dug into your flesh as she set a new rhythm.

"That's it, Jennie," you praised, your voice a low rumble. "Enjoy being filled and stretched out by a real man."

Jennie moaned and started to quicken her pace, her body moved in a way that showcased her surrender to her desires and the superiority of your size. As her rhythm intensified, you had the perfect view of her ass. It took the whole of your length and jiggled each time she slammed into you.

Soon, her head fell backwards, her long silky black hair cascading down her back as she acquiesced to the sensations that coursed through her. "Master! I'm so close again! Your cock… it's taking me to places I've never been with those small cock boys!" she exclaimed in ecstasy.

"That's it, let go! Cum for me while you ride my big hard cock!" you shouted.

Jennie's body shook violently, her walls clenched around you as she surrendered to her orgasm. "I'm coming, Master!" she screamed, her nails digging into your legs as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her. You continued to fuck her through her orgasm, your hands engulfed her small waist, supporting her in a sensual rhythm.

As her climax began to subside, you moved her to the edge of the couch and positioned her on all fours, her hands and knees sinking into the cushions. Almost instinctively, her back arched and offered a stunning view of her glistening pussy. "Now, my obedient slave, it's my turn." you laugh "I'm gonna break your mind and pussy."

Jennie, her body still heaving with overwhelming pleasure, could only nod in submission. You stood behind her and tightly held onto her hips with both hands. Using the tip of your erect cock, you teased her wet folds and, with a single powerful thrust, rammed deep inside her.

Before she could even comprehend what had happened, you pulled out fully and slammed right back into her. You continued to roughly jackhammer her tight wet Asian pussy, stretching her out and bruising her cervix. "You like that, Jennie? You like being taken from behind, being reminded that you're a submissive little slut that has outgrown those Asian boys?" you exclaimed.

"Yes, Master!" she cried out in pain. "Take me, own me, I've chosen you and the path of true pleasure!" She began to move her body in sync with yours, her hands tightly gripping the cushions as she took you in. Jennie's surrender was absolute, her body was a vessel for your pleasure and your dominance over her was complete.

Suddenly, her arms and legs gave in, releasing your hard cock and leaving her prone on the couch. Despite this, you quickly repositioned yourself above her and forcefully pushed your length back into her, filling her once more.

"Fuck Jennie! Your pussy is so tight in this position." you praised emphatically. Jennie moaned with a mixture of pleasure and exhaustion "I love it, Master! I love how you use my pussy as your personal fleshlight, fucking it roughly into oblivion!"

As you continued to drive into her, you felt the coil of your pleasure tighten. You leaned down, your mouth close to her ear, your breath hot against her skin, and whispered a command. "That's right, slave. And now, I want you to come for me again before I finally finish deep inside of you."

Jennie's body reacted to your erotic words, her pussy clenched around your shaft as she pleaded. "Please, Master, fill me with your cum! I want to feel your cum inside me, claiming me as yours! I choose you, and I'll never look back!"

Your control began to slip as her words, her submission, and the tight heat of her body pushed you closer to the edge. Your movements became wilder, your pace became a frenzied rhythm, and each thrust became a statement of your mastery over her. "You're mine, Jennie," you growled, your voice raw with passion and lust. "Every part of you, every scream, every moan, belongs to me!"

"Oh, Master! Fuck me deeper, harder, and faster!" she cried out, her body moving in perfect harmony with yours, her pleasure once again building to an intense peak.

With a powerful final thrust, you surrendered to your pleasure and roared as you released your hot seed deep within her, marking her as your property. At the same time, Jennie's body convulsed as she too surrendered to her climax, her walls milking your shaft and her pleasure consuming her.

For minutes, you remain joined, your bodies slick with sweat and the evidence of your shared pleasure. Jennie's breath was ragged, her eyes glazed with satisfaction as she turned her head to look at you, a satisfied smile on her lips.

"That was…" she began, her voice triumphant and exhausted. "I've never experienced anything like that. I feel like I've finally found what I've been missing."

You returned a warm smile, a sense of victory filling you. "It's been my pleasure to guide you, Jennie. And this is just the beginning of your journey into true fulfilment."

Finally getting up, you both slowly got dressed. However, Jennie's curiosity got the better of her, her mind still buzzing from the heavenly experience. "But how did I… I mean, I don't remember agreeing to all of this. It's like I had no control, but I loved it."

You laughed with an insidious glint in your eyes, a glint of a master who had hypnotised his client to become his sex slave. "The mind is powerful, Jennie. As you can tell from first-hand experience, even if you don't remember it, hypnosis can still do wonders for the mind and body."

Jennie nodded understandingly "So, it's almost like, I was… under a spell?" "A spell of pleasure that frees you, one might say," you smoothly replied "And it's a spell I'm sure you'll want to be under again, to continue exploring the path you've chosen today."

Jennie smiled lustfully, her body still humming with the afterglow of her intense orgasms and her mind already imagining the possibilities of future sessions. "I can't deny that it was… an eye-opening experience. I want to explore more, to leave no stone unturned in my pursuit of pleasure and fulfilment."

You held the door open for her, a silent promise in your eyes, a promise of further guidance and pleasure. "Until next time, Jennie. A world of true satisfaction awaits, and you've only just begun to scratch the surface."

As Jennie stepped out, you allowed yourself a moment of gratification, knowing that the hypnosis had worked its magic and Jennie had now become your obedient personal sex slave. You now wondered about your other clients and the possibilities of guiding them to a similar outcome. The thought was tantalising, and you knew that this was just the beginning of a journey into the dark and devious world of hypnotic domination.

[lazyneonrabbitt]

Muzzled

FatWS!Bucky x Reader | Smut🔞

Face riding as therapy? Bucky thinks it's a wonderful idea.

Part two of Barrier, set way later in the timeline.

You and Bucky probably had the weirdest relationship of anyone you knew. Over the decades you had been together you had been separated by war accidents, evil organizations and helful allies, only to find a different version of Bucky each time your paths crossed once more.

Now, the most recent time of seeing Bucky again almost gave you whiplash as a wave of nostalgia hit you.

His hair was cut and styled short and he sported a gorgeous new arm. He didn't look like the tortured soul that came and took you to Romania but resembled his old boyish self once more.

He was Sergeant Barnes again.

Bucky still hesitated to touch you, his mind telling him he needed to make sure you hadn't stopped feeling for him romantically before he'd make a fool of himself.

Once he stepped into your apartment, though, that fear left him entirely.

On the wall sat a vintage Captain America propaganda poster that Steve himself signed. Next to it a small toy shield signed by Sam. A huge bookcase ran along the remainder of the wall and wherever he looked he saw memories.

Far off in the corner of his eye he spotted a familiar teddybear, now worn and clearly loved.

But what really caught his eye was all the different items of his she had scattered throughout the cabinet.

Books about the Howling Commandos, a small portrait picture he knew she had kept on her person during the war and even a little action figure of him and Steve stood ready for battle beside and old group photo.

Even--

..even his Winter Soldier mask sat proudly in a square along with a HYDRA file labeled with his name, and that small red book.

"Why did you keep this?" His voice was soft, his eyes focused on the items that represented his worst side, displayed so proudly in the open.

"Well, it shows I love all versions of you, even the one everyone else disliked." The way you said it so casually caught him off guard.

"But if you don't like having it here I can always put it in my nightstand.." You liked how that made a blush creep up his face. "I know you liked it last time you wore it around me."

You let out a full blown laugh at Bucky clearly remembering the events you mentioned. He picked up the item and turned it in his hand, inspecting all the intricate details on it.

Part of him was excited you loved the assassin and didn't cast him away or tried to pretend he didn't exsist, but part of him also felt extremely uncomfortable being around items that reminded him of a part of him he had tried to forget.

"If you put it on I'll sit on your face." You passed the ex-assassin with a wink as you stepped towards the hall connecting the livingroom to your bedroom, keeping him in your view as he stood, frozen and almost dropping the mask in shock.

By the time you reached the bedroom door he still hadn't moved. "Oh, Sergeant?"

"Y.. yes, peach." He quickly slipped past you into the room and sat down on the edge, mask still in hand.

Standing in front of him you toed off your shoes, crossing your arms as your eyes glanced at the mask for a second, signaling you were waiting.

You watched trembling hands lift the item to his face, his eyes focused on it as fear glinted in the blues.

"Hey, look at me." Your voice was soft and got his attention immediately. His eyes quickly lost the fear and clouded with something more primal as he took in your form only clad in simple but tasteful underwear.

A simple "Okay" was all he muttered before the mask went back up to his face and he secured it in place. "Happy now?" His hands moved to take it off again but you moved swiftly to stop him.

"Oh no, baby. I think you misunderstood." You placed his hands on your hips and yours on his shoulders, pushing him back onto the bed.

"I said," Crawling over him you sat yourself down on his chest. "Put on the mask and I'll sit on your face. Don't you want me to sit on your face, Bucky?"

God, you loved how expressive his eyes were. They told you everything you needed to know when his mouth couldn't cooperate with his brain. But you needed him to talk before you moved on, making sure he was still here with you.

"Buck, talk to me please. I need to know that you're okay with this." Your hand came up to rest against his temple and he nodded. "I'm okay. Still breathing."

You took his words in happily, smiling down at him and moving his hands again, motioning for him to take off your remaining clothes.

With you completely bare, Bucky's hands found your ass and kneaded the soft flesh making him hum in pleasure. "So soft.."

With each squeeze you maneuvered yourself further up his body until your core was hovering above his head. Bucky's was breathing hard in anticipation, his fingers drawing lazy circles on your clit to distract himself from the eery feeling of the mask over his face.

"Relax, Buck. Tap out when it becomes too much. Do whatever you want with your hands in the meantime." Your fingers found his hair and gently combed through it as you lowered yourself onto the mask. Your slick already coating the hard material from Bucky's touches.

On your first roll of your hips you felt Bucky's hands twitch beside you, laying against the bed. As you continued to gently move you took his hands and put them on you. One on your chest and one on the plush of your thigh.

"Feels good, Buck.." You sighed as he rolled a nipple between his vibranium fingers and kept pawing at your thigh and ass. He hummed beneath you, inhaling deep to take in your scent through the mask. Your arousal was starting to seep through the slits down the front, the holes making perfect bumps and valleys to pleasure yourself on. Bucky moaned at your scent invading his senses, your slick dtipping down from the slits. Beneath the mask he had his tongue out, lapping at the inside to drink up everything he could get to.

The groan he let out at your taste went straight trough you and you felt the hand on your ass leave you. The sound of him fumbling with his pants caught your ears and it only spurred you on, rutting against the mask with renewed energy. Your tired legs finding new strength to continue riding Bucky's face.

You felt his arm move beside you, peeking back to see him taking his cock in hand and jerking himself off as he squirmed under you. "Taste so good.."

As he jerked himself off to the taste of you, your hips kept rolling. The slits in the mask being perfect ridges for your clit to catch on and help you closer to the edge.

"Hah.. Buck, feels good.." You moaned as he toyed with your nipple, your hand on his vibranium wrist squeezing the metal. Your other hand still rested in his hair, tugging on the short strands with each ridge that caught on your folds. "Getting close.."

While you used Bucky's mask as a saddle, he stroked his cock and played with your tits. Moans and sighs filled the room as you both neared your end. Bucky wordlessly placed his hand on your hip, holding you down as you tugged at his hair, gripping the strands hard as your orgasm washed over you. With a few slow rolls of your hips you came down just as Bucky groaned into the mask, panting as he finished all over his hand and shirt.

With a lazy smile you laid down next to him. "So, how are you feeling about it now?" Next to you Bucky unclipped the mask and turned it in his hands.

"Yeah," he huffed, his smile widening as his gaze turned to you. "I think I can start liking this thing."

Bucky was sure you were still eyeing him, pulling the outside of the mask back to his lips and licking a broad stripe right over the middle, his eyes still focused on you in the process. Only when he noticed you squirming and rubbing your thighs together he stopped and tossed the mask aside.

"Now, are you gonna let your soldier fuck you properly?"

[theemporium]

in exchange for you not paying for my therapy bills after your last luke and cherry chapter i would like to request a luke blurb

the morning after your first time spending the night at luke and jacks apartment. you’re not quite sure what to do so anything you do for luke you do for jack so he’s not left out. jack is like “i like this one can you keep her” while luke is like “babe your my gf jacks a big boy he can do it himself”

thank you for requesting and sorry (not sorry) for the therapy bills!🫶🏽

.

Despite dating for almost nine months, this had been the first time you had ever stayed overnight at Luke’s apartment.

You had been in his apartment many times throughout the duration of your relationship, but you always left for your own place at the end of the night. Or Luke would leave with you, letting his brother have some privacy since you didn’t have a roommate. It always made sense, and seemed easier too.

But the boys had just come back from a long roadie and it had been almost two weeks since you saw Luke in person because of your own busy schedule. And as excited as Luke was to see you, he didn’t have the energy in him to handle another travel journey, as short as it was.

“Just stay the night,” Luke had all but mumbled as he laid on top of you on his bed, his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck. “We can go to your place tomorrow.” 

And you didn’t have any reason to disagree with that agreement.

You just didn’t realise how out of your own element you were until you woke up the next morning. Luke was still fast asleep in his room and, considering how quiet the apartment was, you assumed Jack was too. It was stupid to feel so imposing but you couldn’t shake how weird it felt to be wandering around their place in the early hours of the day with neither awake yet.

You had decided to just follow the routine you usually followed at your place when Luke stayed over, scavenging whatever you could from their fridge and cupboards to make a decent breakfast with. Which, for two NHL players who should be eating more than the average person, was surprisingly not much, unless you wanted chicken and rice for breakfast (which no one in their right mind would want). 

You were lost in your own world, focused on the sizzling pan in front of you and the music playing from your phone on the counter beside you that you didn’t hear footsteps coming down the corridor.

“We own a spatula?” 

You turned, snorting when you found Jack glaring at the utensil in your hand like it had spawned out of nowhere. “I made Luke buy it when he tried to flip an egg with a fork.”

“Huh,” was all Jack managed to say. “He still asleep?” 

“Out like a light,” you nodded. 

“He’s gonna miss his breakfast,” Jack teased, rounding the counter so he could peek over your shoulder. 

“More French toast for us then,” you shrugged.

Jack paused, looking at you with an expression you couldn’t quite read. “You made me breakfast too?” 

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “Yeah?” 

“Oh.” 

“I mean, if you have plans for breakfast, it’s fine,” you assured him, waving him off. 

“No, I—” Jack paused before shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know, you’re Luke’s girlfriend.” 

Your confusion grew. “Yeah, and? You’re Luke’s brother. What’s that got to do with anything?” 

“You didn’t need to make me breakfast,” Jack said in a tone of voice that made it seem like his reply made any more sense than the previous ones. “But you did.” 

“What, you thought I would just make me and Luke breakfast and leave you to starve?” You questioned, the confusion slowly being replaced with amusement. “That would have been a dick move.”

Jack shrugged. “I would have understood.”

“Luke’s my boyfriend and you’re his brother but you’re also my friend, Jack,” you said to the boy with a soft smile. “Making extra breakfast is not the hardship you think it is.”

Jack laughed, nodding. “You’re my friend too.” 

Your smile widened.

“God, that smells so good,” Luke groaned as he shuffled into the room, messy curls tucked underneath the hood of his hoodie. He paused, glancing between the two of you with narrowed eyes. “Why do you both have that creepy smile? What are you planning?” 

“Confidential things,” Jack retorted, throwing his arm around your shoulder as he beamed at his younger brother. “Maybe when you’re old enough, we will tell you.” 

You snorted.

Luke frowned. “Ugh, can’t you go annoy Nico to feed you.” 

“Nuh uh, I was given an invite to join you both for breakfast here,” Jack said, still grinning widely. “You’re right, bro, it does smell so good.”

Luke let out a huff. “She is my girlfriend, go away and make your own breakfast.” 

“And she is my future sister-in-law,” Jack retorted, cackling at the way both you and Luke flushed at his words. “We are family now! Get used to it, Rusty!”

.

[sashaisready]

Starting Over: Chapter 5 - Better

Mob!Bucky x Female Reader

Series Masterlist

When Bucky throws you out of the house for a betrayal and won't listen to your side of the story, you know the only way out is through - it's time to start over. Maybe this was never going to be your happy ending.

Hi! I'm sorry this took so long, work has been kicking my bum lately and I haven't had much writing time. But it's here - the final part! I hope you like it. Thanks to everyone who has reblogged/commented/engaged with this story - it means so much. Thank-you!!

💔

One week later…

You were cleaning tables when you glanced at the diner’s clock and realised it was almost 9am. Friday was here once again…

…Would he be in as usual?

It was raining heavily outside, throughout the early shift your regulars had rushed in and shaken the sogginess off their coats and umbrellas once they were safely over the threshold of the diner. You’d chatted with them, commiserating with them about ‘this damn weather’ and promising to warm them up with coffee and breakfast.

You’d spent your time off this last week popping into the hospital to see Lou. He was doing well, making progress, but the road to recovery was long. He needed to make major adjustments to his lifestyle and potentially engage in physical therapy as they think he’d also had a small stroke. He got his personal mail delivered to the diner and asked you to open it and keep him updated with anything pressing. The medical bills you’d seen were already dizzying and his insurance only covered part of it, but you couldn’t bother him what that just yet – he didn’t need the stress on top of everything else. You’d figure it out. You always did.

Lou had made you acting manager to pick up the slack while he was gone. You were pulling extra hours, working overtime to ensure the ship remained afloat while the captain remained on the shore. It was tough, but you couldn’t deny you loved the buzz of being in charge – of keeping everything moving.

You hadn’t seen Bucky since that night at the hospital. He’d insisted on driving you home after you’d said goodbye to Lou, ignoring your protests that the subway was perfectly fine…

“The subway, doll? Fuck no. Not on my watch”.

You’d rolled your eyes, knowing you didn’t have the energy to fight him after the evening you’d had. He knew it too. You’d merely sighed and hopped into the back of his SUV as you gave him your new address, giving a little wave to Clint who was driving.

The two of you sat in the back in silence for the entire journey, you watched the city flying past you from the window and it felt strange that the outside world was just continuing around you like normal while yours had almost collapsed.

The car rolled to a stop in front of your building, and you turned to Bucky. He seemed to be studying you carefully, concern drawn across his features. Even after all this time and distance, the beauty of his face still took your breath away at times.

“Thank-you…for the ride. For dinner. For showing up…all of it,” you said softly.

He nodded stoically, “always. Look…no matter what happens between us, I’ll always show up for you if you need me. Any time, any place. And Lou is going to be just fine, alright?”

Almost instinctively you found your hand sliding across the leather of the seat towards him. He looked down as your hand moved to find his. You clasped your fingers around his metal digits, the cool sensation against your skin was something you hadn’t felt in a long time. They in turn wrapped around yours and the two of you sat holding hands for a short while. You didn’t speak or look at each other, just both existing in the moment and concentrating on the feeling of your hands entwined. You paused, wanting to say more – but unable to quite find the words.

Eventually you couldn’t bear the strange tension in the air. You gently withdrew your hand and cleared your throat as you shuffled across the seat towards the door.

“Well, thanks again. And for the ride, too”.

“Anytime. Nice building…” he peered out of the window at your apartment block.

“Ah yeah, thanks,” you said proudly.

“You doing okay, living there?” he asked quizzically in his Brooklyn-lilt, his brows furrowed.

“Mm…I mean, it’s not as fancy as your place,” you chuckled, “it’s kinda cramped and small, but it’s cosy and warm. And it’s mine,” you told him with fondness.

He smiled, but it didn’t quite meet his eyes. “My place was yours too, you know”.

You chewed on your lip, you hadn’t intended it as a slight against him. “I-I know Buck…but…you know what I meant”.

He nodded reluctantly. “Yeah…that’s good. I’m pleased for you, really”. His nose crinkled as he looked at you fondly. It was a little mannerism of his that you’d missed.

You shared a small smile before getting out of the car and heading inside. You couldn’t quite bring yourself to look back at the car, a storm of emotions fighting to escape you. Your fatigue mixed with your anxieties about Lou, confusion about this sudden shift with Bucky now swelling. You could tell from the quiet behind you that the car hadn’t pulled away yet, no doubt waiting until you were safely off the street. You put your key in the door and quickly moved inside.

That was last week. You hadn’t spoken to him since, although you’d wondered if you should reach out. You thought he might’ve been in touch – a text, a call, but nothing. It was nice, he was leaving the ball in your court and not crowding you, respecting the boundaries you’d established. But part of you couldn’t shake the small sense of disappointment that lingered, too.

The fact was you couldn’t deny that something was stirring. Bucky, who you’d long written off and blacklisted for his betrayal, had started to be on your mind more and more. He had crept back into your brain.

You didn’t believe the old adage that time healed all wounds, but it had certainly helped. The space you’d had from him a year on from the incident had allowed you to find yourself again, the parts that you hadn’t realised you’d lost after diving headfirst into your relationship with Bucky. You still felt immense pain when you thought about what happened…but you also thought about how he had been true to his word. He hadn’t tried to force you back, not aggressively pursuing you or trying to talk you round. His weekly mornings at the diner had never felt pointed or manipulative. You believed that he was just happy to have you in his life, like he’d said. You’d since found your own place, started therapy and looked at your own issues, thrown yourself into work. Remembered who you were before you were ‘mob boss girlfriend’. You knew that what had happened with Bucky was not your fault, it wasn’t your job to reflect and change accordingly – that was all his. But still, having the space and time to work on yourself…it was refreshing. One small silver lining on this ugly, black cloud.

You’d also been on a few dates over the last few months. Nothing to write home about. A few nice guys, a few less than nice guys. Nothing had truly sparked for you; nobody had piqued your interest enough to want to really explore more than a few dinners or coffees. Maybe it was because of how things ended with Bucky, or you just hadn’t met someone right for you, or maybe you were just off dating altogether…But it wasn’t something you felt real enthusiasm for at this point. But that was okay. It had been fun to dip your toe back in the dating pool, and you weren’t averse to trying again when the moment was right, or you met the right person.

Unless of course, it was because someone else was on your mind.

Your slow burn friendship with Bucky had crept on you, taken you by surprise. The man who had once broken your heart now had a new place in your life. It was strange, but in some ways, you knew him better than you had when you were together. Despite your previous connection - your conversations had opened territory up you’d never covered together before, previously too caught up in passion and heat to dive as deeply as you had now.

And most importantly, he had shown up for you that night at the hospital, been there for you without you needing to ask. He had brought you dinner and stayed by your side without a word, because he knew you needed not to be alone – needed support. You were touched by his care for you, his willingness to clear his schedule for you at the drop of a hat. It meant a lot. It meant everything. He had intuited how you felt and acted immediately. He was there.

You didn’t know what it meant, if anything. Something had changed, the safe barrier of diner breakfast chats had been crossed. Part of you was panicking – no! Don’t let him get close, not again! Remember what he did! But another part of you had missed him deeply, longed to hold him again and wake up to him each morning. Your thoughts were a spiralling mass of contradictions and conflict, nothing made sense.

You weren’t sure if you could ever truly forgive him for what happened.

But could you try?

Roscoe snapped you out of your thoughts as he passed you the latest batch mail on his way by. You thanked him, flicking through the junk mail until your attention was caught by the hospital logo on one of the envelopes. You winced, tentatively ripping open the paper as you braced yourself for the latest bill.

You cursed under your breath as you unveiled the total figure, a stupid amount of money. You spiralled as it sank in, wondering if Lou would have to sell the diner in order to settle his debt. You knew he didn’t have anywhere near enough in his savings. You thought about all the jobs that could be at stake, including yours, and your heart ached most of all knowing that the restaurant was Lou’s baby. It would break him to give it up.

Maybe you could call them, sort out a payment plan…something?

You tried to calm yourself down, thinking about what your therapist would say about your immediate jump to the worst-case scenario. Relax. You can fix this. Remember your mindfulness exercises. Life would find a way.

The opening of the front door pulled you from your catastrophising. You glanced over, making eye contact with a rather damp Bucky as he entered the diner. He sighed, shaking the rain from his coat as he scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“A lovely morning…” he muttered, deadpan.

You smiled, stuffing the hospital bill into your apron pocket and going to grab the coffee jug, “Morning, Buck. Get a little wet?”

“A little,” he gruffed, slotting himself into his usual booth.

You chuckled as you filled up his mug.

“How’s Lou?” he asked, shaking the rain from his hair.

“He’s doing better, thanks for asking. They’ve got a whole treatment plan worked out for him - so that’s positive”.

“Good. Glad to hear. You over here running the show while he’s out?”

“Something like that,” you smiled, then shuffled on your feet as you realised you needed to talk to him. “Bucky, I-”

A loud clatter and exclamation from the kitchen cut you off, causing you both to look over at the disturbance. You sighed with exasperation.

“Ah. Duty calls…I’ll put your order in while I’m in there”.

You rushed off to sort out whatever mess waited for you in the kitchen as Bucky smiled playfully at your annoyance.

He noticed something had fallen out of your apron as you dashed off. A piece of paper. He leaned over to pick it off the floor for you in case you needed it. Before he realised it was private and had a chance to look away, his eyes were immediately drawn to the monstrous sum at the bottom of the page. Ah. He grimaced as he quickly put two and two together, folding the paper neatly and leaving it on the table. He took a sip of his coffee.

You appeared a little while later with his order, sighing heavily as you placed the plate in front of him.

“Sorry about that…Roscoe and Ron were fighting about if the bacon was too crispy, and some trays got caught up in the carnage. Never a dull moment around here…”

You suddenly noticed the paper on the table, your words trailing off as your eyes locked onto it. You snatched it away quickly, shoving it into your apron.

“That’s not…that’s-” you floundered, embarrassed for him to have seen it.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to snoop. You dropped it, so I picked it up and then realised what it was,” he explained softly.

“It’s fine. I’m dealing with it,” you shrugged, desperate to appear nonchalant.

“Sit down, doll”, he said sternly.

You scoffed, “Bucky…I’m busy running a restaurant here…”

He paused, looked up and bellowed across the diner, “Roscoe! Ron! Handle things while your boss takes a break!”

You rolled your eyes, turning to see Roscoe and Ron nodding furiously as they scattered and suddenly started working harder than you’d ever seen them. They had always been afraid of Bucky. You stifled a laugh.

“Problem solved, now sit,” he gestured.

You reluctantly sat down opposite him, “Bucky…”

“We’re gonna talk”.

“I don’t need-”

“No. Let’s do this”, he said sternly.

You folded your arms in front of you, fully aware that you resembled a petulant teenager but not caring enough to stop.

Bucky cleared his throat, taking a sip of his coffee before picking up the letter. “Now, I don’t want to overstep…but I can take care of this you know…”

You shook your head. “No. Thanks for the offer, but no,” you told him firmly.

“Alright. That’s fine. So, Lou has enough to cover it?” he asked, “all of it?”

You nodded a bit too quickly, “mmhmm”.

Bucky caught it immediately, your lie. You noticed the quirk of his brow and the subtle rubbing of his lips together. Damn him.

“Well, that’s a relief,” he sipped his coffee again and ate a few forkfuls of his meal, then wiped his mouth with a napkin and tilted his head quizzically. “Guess it’s all wrapped up, then”.

You nodded again in agreement, but knew he wasn’t done.

He took his time, casually taking a few more bites of his breakfast and sipping his coffee. You knew his relaxed demeanour was a careful façade…you had somehow found yourself at the centre of a famed Bucky Barnes interrogation.

You tried to appear relaxed, as if you had nothing more to add.

“Because…” he started.

Ugh.

“…because, if he didn’t have enough. That would be a problem, wouldn’t it?”

“Mmm. It would. But it’s not…so…”

“Right”, he cut you off. “But if he didn’t – great eggs today by the way – if he didn’t, that would be putting this place at risk, right? All the staff here and their jobs. Your job?”

“Right,” you replied, your voice a little strained.

“And of course Lou himself…he loves this place. It’s his baby. I’m sure he’d be devastated if he had to give it up to pay his medical bills. Especially as the last thing he needs right now is more stress and financial worries on top of his ill health”. He paused again to eat, not even looking up.

You nodded; your eyes now slightly cloudy now.

“Yep…” you said meekly.

He looked up at you, his eyes intensely locked onto yours, gesturing towards you with the fork. He was in full swing now. The diner suddenly felt much hotter, you could feel tiny beads of sweat forming on your forehead and the back of your neck.

“And I hope it would be known, if that was the case of course, that my offer would have no strings attached. Because I could imagine someone might decline it out of pride, or concern that it would have conditions and that person would then be in some sort of debt to me…either financially or emotionally. And if that was the case, I’d want to reassure them that it would only be a friend looking out for a friend, helping because I want to, and I can, and God knows I should do something nice once in a while to even out my moral scales…”

The barrier broke and your tears finally escaped, the stress about Lou and this intimidating bill, and your confusion about how you felt for Bucky, all finally coming to the surface. You cupped your face in your hands as you quietly sobbed.

“I’m sorry, I just…I…”

Bucky moved like lightning, whipping around to your side of the booth as he swung in next to you.

“Hey…hey, it’s okay. I’m sorry,” he said softly, “I didn’t mean to upset you. I just wanted to be clear what my offer entailed; but I understand why you’d be reluctant to accept my help”.

He pulled a few napkins from the dispenser and tenderly wiped away your tears.

“It wouldn’t be a loan, doll, and you wouldn’t need to make nice with me to say thanks. You could call me an asshole and dump these eggs on my head, and I’d still pay in full with a smile. There’s no expectation here, no contract – legal or implied”.

You sniffed, looking up at him blearily, “you’d really do all that for me…but…why?”

He paused, then very delicately used his thumb to collect the tears forming at the side of your eye.

“You know why,” he said plainly.

Your heart panged, and you looked down at your hands in your lap, clutching at one of the now-soggy napkins he’d given you. You sniffed again as you regained your composure, suddenly feeling exposed in front of him. The two of you stared at one another for a few moments and you were so desperate to tell him everything, but you couldn’t form the words. You hoped he would elaborate and fill in that gap for you, but he didn’t.

He quietly got up, putting on his coat and placing some bills down on the table to cover his check. He leaned over and kissed you on the crown of your head, then used a finger to tilt your chin up to look at him.

“You don’t have to decide anything now,” he told you as he looked into your eyes, “Think it over. I’ll be back here next week like always”.

He smiled at you, then disappeared out into the street. You heard the roaring of the rain outside as the diner door opened, the little bell above the frame chiming to announce his departure.

You missed him already.

You looked down at the hospital bill in your hands, the total at the bottom practically screaming from the page.

He’d hurt you so badly, you weren’t sure if you could ever fully forgive him for that fateful night. You understood it had been his insecurities, you understood he had lashed out after he thought his worst fears were realised – but that had only even explained his actions, not justified them.

Although…he’d always been there over the last year. Slow and steady, but he’d taken the time to rebuild his relationship with you platonically. He’d let you manage the pace, never tried to force anything more than you were willing to give him.

…and he’d been there for you.

He continued to be there for you.

It wasn’t about the money. He wasn’t trying to pay you off to win favour. He was just trying to be there for you, and this was something he had the power and resources to help you with.

He was your friend.

He loved you. He’d continued to love you…

“Are you back off break, boss?” Roscoe rudely interrupted your train of thought, “Ron said that the fryer-”

You were pulling off your apron before your brain could even catch up with your body.

“Nope,” you shot back, firing out of the booth at full speed as you tossed the apron at him on your way out, “a little longer…”

You left Roscoe gawping in your wake as you sailed through the front door. You yelped in shock as you stepped out into the downpour, you’d forgotten about the mini storm happening beyond the restaurant doors. It was so dark outside it looked more like early evening than the morning hours. You looked down at your immediately soaked uniform, your work shoes flooding as you traipsed through the puddles…

Focus!

You surveyed the street, your eyes catching a brief glimpse of the SUV turning the corner. The instantly recognisable JBB107 plates drawing your focus in the split second before they vanished.

And so you ran.

You sprinted after the SUV waving your arms, shouting for it to stop. A concerned elderly lady asked if you were okay but you sailed on by. You must’ve looked utterly insane.

You rounded the corner and rushed up behind the SUV as it slowed. The back door flew open, and Bucky suddenly appeared out of it, a look of horror on his face as the vehicle pulled over.

“Doll! Jesus Christ, what the- are you okay??” he shouted to you as you approached.

You didn’t answer, just flung yourself inside the car as you desperately tried to catch your breath. Bucky slid across the seat to give you room. The divider screen was up so you couldn’t see the driver. One less person to witness your mortifying display, at least.

“Fuck…you must be freezing,” he muttered as he pulled off his jacket, wrapping it around your shoulders and leaning over to close the car door behind you.

You were, your teeth chattered. Your hair was wet and matted, your uniform soaked through.

“Bucky…” you said hoarsely as you dripped all over his plush car interior.

“What is it, doll?” he asked, his eyes wide and alarmed, “what’s going on??”

You couldn’t find the words so you acted purely on instinct, you cupped his face and kissed him. Kissed him hard. Kissed him longingly. He caught up quickly and kissed you back, his fingers tangled in your soaking hair. It was desperate, messy. Your teeth clashed and your cheeks bumped. It had been so long that you’d lost each other’s rhythm with this. But it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. You couldn’t have waited any longer.

He pulled away, gawping at you incredulously as he held your face in his hands.

“Doll…does this mean?”

“Let’s go slow,” you whispered, “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. The effort you’ve put into rebuilding us from the ground up…for being my friend…for never pushing me…for Lou…but I’m not sure I’m ready to jump into this headfirst…whatever this is…”

He nodded, “of course, anything you want”.

“I’m not sure if I can…fully forgive. But I want to try,” you told him softly as you pressed your forehead to his.

He wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly as he sighed. A sigh of long held tension, of relief.

“Thank-you for giving me a chance…I didn’t think you ever would again,” he admitted.

“Yeah…well neither did I,” you laughed,

“What changed your mind?”

“Well…. how you showed up for me with Lou has made me rethink a lot of things. Plus…the money”.

He laughed, “the money? Really? This whole time I just needed to pay you off?”

“No…”, You rolled your eyes, “it was more that you offered, but you didn’t force anything, and you made it clear it was no strings attached. It’s like…you want to help me, but you trust me to make my own decisions and don’t just try and fix it all for me, like you used to. I just…it made me realise how much I’ve missed you. But it’s gotta be different this time…”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah…like…I want to stay in my apartment. And I want to keep my job,” you said firmly.

He nodded, “yeah. Of course”.

“Maybe I’d move back in with you one day…but I want my space”.

“Okay. You got it,”.

You smiled, “yeah?”

He smiled back at you, the smile that still made you weak at the knees. “Doll? If it means you’re by my side…Of course ‘yeah’. Anything you want. And I have some conditions too…”

“What?” you frowned. “This isn’t exactly a two-way negotiation, Buck…”

“Just…listen. They’re conditions for me. I promise I’m going to trust you entirely, and to communicate you with you properly – not let my emotions get the best of me. I’m a different man to who I was the last time we were together. I know how lucky I am to get this second chance with you. I’m not fucking it up. I'm gonna be...better”.

He spoke earnestly with such conviction that it was almost aggressive. You nodded gently, squeezing his hand. You believed him.

“Alright…well, let’s give it a shot, shall we?”

He grinned, “I can’t believe you’re here…”

“Me neither. But…I’m sorry I’m dripping rainwater all over your car”.

He shrugged. “Fuck the car”.

And then he kissed you again.

Maybe you did believe in happy endings.

THE END

There we have it! I hope you liked where it went. I know some of you didn't think she should ever forgive him and I understand, and I'm sorry if you're disappointed! But in my eyes he had shown her he was willing to change...and she wasn't trying to rush back into anything heavy. Thank you for reading!

If you liked this story, please consider supporting me with my Ko-Fi link 💐

[zhelin-thames]

Extra 17: Dan Phantom Crashes the Party

There can only be one brother extras 5 - 25 + bonus parts

The original Dan Phantom appears, expecting chaos. He gets family therapy instead.

Dan: [dramatic entrance] "Foolish imitations—wait, why is there a tiny clone of me?!" Ellie: [waving] "Hi, Uncle Evil!" Damian: [pointing sword] "Explain yourself." Danny: [sighs] "Long story short: Time travel, bad decisions, really bad hair—" Dan: [distressed] "WHY IS THERE A BRUCE WAYNE HERE?!" Bruce: [stepping forward, Dad Voice™] "Let’s talk."

Dan leaves three hours later, emotionally drained but holding a hot cocoa recipe from Alfred.

[novemberheart]

{overview} You get attacked. Does your pack step up for you?

{warnings} violence, blood, mentions of sexual content (no sexual abuse), fem reader, cursing, poly141, pain, crying, angst, a/b/o dynamics

Chapter 10 <- Chapter 11 -> Chapter 12

It was Simon’s last day of physical therapy. If he passed this he would be cleared to get back out in the field. On his way, he dropped you off at another Omega Committee event. This one you were actually excited about. It was a hike through the forest at the far end of the base. Priya wasn't there and you wished you had the presence of mind to have asked her for her number. But luckily you ran into Anais.

“You smell like peaches and cream. Anyone ever told you that?” she asked. The sound of Johnny yelling “peaches” instantly ran through your mind.

“A few, yeah.” you smiled.

“Well that's what I'm going to call you, PC for short.” she giggled. You had been called worse. Anais was a chatter. You didn't really mind though.

“Can I ask you something- something personal,” she whispered, leaning even closer to you. Curiosity killed the cat.

“How does it work with all five of you? Do they take turns-” she whispered.

“Oh my god, Anais.” you couldn't help but chuckle, despite the flaming of your cheeks. To be honest you were wondering the same thing.

“That was too much! I'm so sorry. I was just curious and I thought we were friends”-

“Anais it's alright. If I knew I probably wouldn't mind sharing a bit of info.” You assured. She relaxed.

“So you haven't?”

“No,” you responded truthfully.

“Have you ever?” she trailed off. You hadn't. You never really had the chance. You weren't sure if your pack members would approve of you spilling this information everywhere. “I'll take that as a no.” she snickered. You gave her a playful side-eye.

“Don’t worry about it. Took me forever to lose mine too.” she signed.

“It has not been forever!” you gasped, swatting at her. She laughed loudly causing a few heads to turn. Neither of you really cared.

“Just don't get your hopes up. First times are always terrible,” she advised, bumping you with her arm.

“Thanks for the pep talk.” you huffed.

“Do you have a favorite pack member yet?” she asked suddenly. You quickly shook your head. You enjoyed them all- truthfully. “I think if I was in a pack I would have my favorites. Hopefully one would be my alpha, but you never know,” she smirked.

“Can I ask you something?” you began.

“Shoot.”

“Did it hurt when you were marked?” you questioned.

“The first time, yes. I was in a long-term relationship with an alpha who wasn't entirely nice.”

“I'm sorry Anais.”

She quickly waved you off. “Don't worry about it. It was a long time ago. The second time, not as much. He did it during my heat and it only hurt for a day when I came out of it.” she explained.

“You’re strong Anais.” you said. She flashed you a smile.

“We’re omegas, PC. We have to be.”

The hike back was partly uphill, which was nobody's favorite.

“It was so beautiful when we left. When did it get so bloody hot out?” you panted.

“Look. The heat turns you English.” Anais chuckled through her own pants. You may have picked up a few phrases from the boys.

“Alright, everyone, take five!” One of the group leaders shouted. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. You had made it to the edge of the base, still a little under half a mile to get back.

“I’m going to go refill my water. You need some?” you asked. Anais flopped down on the grass, her arms blocking her face from the sun.

“No thank you.” she groaned, rolling onto her stomach. You made your way up to the front, intending to tell one of the leaders you were going to go get some water. You huffed as the same five omegas were consuming all their attention. “Whatever.” you sighed. You knew where it was, you had filled your water bottle up with Kyle a few days ago when he took you bird watching. Besides, Anais knew where you were.

You made your way quickly towards the buildings, going between them to the other side where the water fountain was.

“My thumbs gonna fall off,” you grumbled. You had to press and hold the button down hard. Kyle made it look easy. Your ears perked up at the sound of footsteps. Your head darted around not seeing anything. You figured you didn't need water that bad and began walking back.

You were abruptly thrown to the ground. Your shorts offered absolutely no protection against the rough gravel. The whole left side of your body slid against the ground, the force of the shove sending you a few feet. There was a low growl behind you and you acted purely on instinct. You felt a hand on your ankle pulling you back. You flipped yourself around, swinging your arm luckily catching a man's face with your claws. He howled, throwing himself away from you. You quickly shuffled backward trying to find your footing.

“Shit, that's 141.” the other man with him cursed. He grabbed the bleeding man pulling him away. Even though they were leaving, you knew you weren't safe. You were finally able to get your footing and began running around the corner, almost knocking Anais down in the process.

“What the fuck!” she shrieked. You were beginning to bleed at this point. It started dripping down your left leg, and right knee. It was starting to show through your shirt on your left side, your elbow, both your hands, and your chin. “It's okay, lovie.” she soothed. You were trying your hardest to keep it together, not wanting to create a scene, however, the pain and fear were making it very difficult.

“I can't go back to the group like this,” you whined. People will think you’re crazy.

“Don't worry. This wasn't your fault. Everyone will understand.” she soothed, gently pulling you along. You held your ground shaking your head. “PC you're bleeding a lot. You need help.” she insisted.

“I want my pack.” you whimpered. You pressed the backside of your hand against your mouth, your throat constricting.

“If you come with me you can get to them.” she urged. It was the push you needed. Luckily you didn't get very far before a group leader noticed and raced towards you.

“What happened?” he questioned. You ignored him, not really in the mood to talk to strange men, and pulled your backpack forward grabbing your phone out of the front pocket. You were lucky it hadn't shattered in the ordeal.

“Someone attacked her.” Anais growled, annoyed that he couldn't use the context clues.

“Hello?” Johnny had picked up after one ring. Hearing his voice made it impossible to hold back any tears. You sobbed into the phone. You heard him repeat your name on the other end, it growing louder and louder every time it left his lips.

“I need you, please. I'm not really sure where I’m at.”

“It's alright, Bon. I have your location pulled up on my phone, I'm near there. Just don't hang up,” he assured. Your chip. You breathed a sigh of relief, leaning against the side of the building.

“I think you should head back to the group.” The group leader directed towards Anais.

“No way,” she growled. “I’m not leaving her”

“Thank you.” you mouthed.

“Of course,” she whispered back. She leaned against the building with you. The rest of the group was still there, the other group leaders trying to prevent them from getting any closer. You didn't need to worry about that, as Johnny quickly rounded the corner, gravel flying under his feet. His mouth fell open at the state of you. His arms extended out and you quickly threw yourself at him, neither of you caring about any blood, sweat, or tears.

“I got you, baby,” he whispered, causing you to lose it again.

“I want to go home.” you whimpered, against his shoulder. Your legs were wrapped firmly around his waist, his arms squeezing you so hard you might have even more bruises.

“Alright.” he soothed. He nodded his head to the group leader and Anais.

“I'll come and visit you in a few days,” Anais called after you.

“Thank you.” you sputtered back. He didn't say a word but pressed his lips against the side of your head every few feet. He stopped setting you down causing you to sob louder. He peeled off his jacket quickly. Carefully dabbing your legs, where the most blood was coming out. He didn't want you to leave a trail of blood everywhere.

He went a back way, not wanting everyone to see his bloodied-up omega. Johnny carried you like you were a feather, weaving through buildings like it was just another day. Well to him it probably was.

Luckily too many people weren't hanging out around your home, the few that did were ignored or met with a snarl. You whimpered at the sound, all your senses on overdrive. You could tell how upset Johnny was, even though you couldn't smell him. He was shaking, growls escaping him nearly every moment. “Almost there.” he soothed. He made it out of the elevator, slamming his key card against the sensor and throwing open the door.

He set you down on the kitchen counter, making no move to pull away from you. He needed to calm you down first.

“S’alright,” he repeated against your head. “I need you to relax for me, lass. Gonna get you all taken care of, aye?” he shut his eyes tightly, resting his body against yours. Your hands dug into his shirt, and you growled at the inability to smell him. “I know what’ll help.” he soothed. He pulled away causing you to whine, and he darted into John's room grabbing a shirt out of his dresser. He brought it back, holding it up towards your face. You were about to bury your face in it but stopped.

“I don't want to get it bloody.” you sobbed.

“He won't mind, bon. Plus we know how to get blood stains out.”

You didn't need to be told twice, you buried your face into the fabric, nuzzling up to Johnny again. After a few moments, your breathing returned to normal and the tears fell quietly. You were quivering now, the pain making up for the loss of adrenaline. “Gonna tell the rest, okay?” he asked, causing you to nod.

He grabbed his phone out of his pocket.

-come home asap. Omega emergency

He tossed the phone on the counter, pulling away from you, sitting down in one of the stools so he was almost face-to-face with you.

“Need you to tell me what happened,” he demanded softly. He kept his jacket pressed against your legs and used a sleeve to stop the bleeding of your elbow.

“I went to get water,” you whispered. Your eyes burned, now dry. “I heard someone walking so I started to leave then all of a sudden someone pushed me to the ground.” his face twitched, his jaw clenching so hard you worried for his teeth. “He grabbed my ankle and started pulling me back, but I turned around and scratched him across his face. One of them said something about 141 and then they ran away,” you explained.

“That’s good. Did exactly what you should've. This happen by the water fountain?” he asked.

“Mhhh,” you confirmed, wondering what he was getting at. The door swung open.

“Holy shit,” Kyle hissed, eyeing you up and down. He was a bit out of breath and you wondered if he ran all the way here like Johnny had. “Let me see.” he insisted, nearly pushing Johnny out of the way. He peeled away the sweatshirt and pulled John's shirt out of your hands.

“Some bastards shoved her.” Johnny snarled.

“By where you took me to see the birds,” you spoke up.

“They've got cameras.” Kyle said exactly what Johnny was thinking. “Should get it pulled up for when the alphas come.” As if on cue the door slammed open again.

“Where is sh”- John cut himself off. “Let me see.” he demanded, pushing Kyle out of the way. If you weren't in pain you would've laughed.

“Someone pushed me, Johnny’s trying to find it on the cameras.” you caught him up to speed. Simon moved towards Johnny glaring over his shoulder at the device. “It was my fault,” you whispered to John. Everyone's head snapped to you. John had your face in his hands, looking over your chin. “I went away from the group to get some water. I should've stayed with the”-

“You don't get to take credit for this.” John sneered. “I don't care where the hell you are, who you are around, this should never happen to you. Understand?” he ordered.

“Yes, Alpha,” you responded quickly.

“Don't make it a habit though,” Kyle spoke, hovering back over by you and John.

“Got it,” Johnny said. John left you but Kyle stayed.

“I'm gonna take a few pictures of you, love. Gotta keep the evidence,” he explained.

“Okay,” you replied softly. Your eyes trained on the three men watching the video. Johnny's face curled again, gripping his phone so tight his knuckles were white. Simon and John appeared to be fairly level-headed, trying to pick up on every detail.

“Record it before someone deletes it,” John instructed. John came back to you, pressing his lips against your forehead. “I’m going to go take care of a few things. Me and Simon’ll be back soon,” he spoke through gritted teeth, taking an inhale of your scent to prevent himself from shaking. He pulled away, Simon following behind him like a dog. “Send me the pictures after.”

“You did good, pup.” Simon praised, heading out the door with John.

Hi friends! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Chapter 12 will be up in two days! See you then! 🧡

[halo-stylinson]

The “Louis is homophobic” narrative is so outrageously dumb that it feels like it was manufactured in a top-secret lab that specializes in bad takes and Twitter misinformation. Like, are y’all okay? Blink twice if it has rotted your critical thinking skills.

Let’s start with the infamous “I am in fact straight ” tweet thread debacle .Yes. That one. The cursed hieroglyphic carved into the stone tablet of Larrie discourse. Do we know Louis even wrote that? No. Do we know he wasn’t pressured to tweet it? Absolutely not. That thing reads like it was drafted by an intern who smells like Axe body spray and internalized homophobia. And even if he did write it, who among us hasn’t tweeted something mid-spiral, mid-slander, or mid-pr-management-disaster? I once tweeted “I love cardio” after crying on a treadmill run. We’ve all been there.

But here’s the thing: Louis’s actual, observable behavior? Screams “deeply queer coded closeted boy who’s been suppressed for over a decade” let’s start rom the very beginning, in 1D interviews, he straight up REFUSED to entertain the weird, gross questions about male fans and them potentially being attracted to the boys bait questions. He danced around it and looked at the interviewer like they needed therapy. A homophobe doesn’t do that. A person who’s been taught to fear queerness would not dance around a bigoted opportunity served on a silver platter by British tabloid goons.

Now, let’s talk about Only the Brave. That song is so queer-coded it needs to pay rent in West Hollywood. The lyrics sound like they were stolen from a poet who stares longingly at their best friend across a candlelit pub. You think some homophobe just wakes up and writes “it’s a church of burnt romances” over sad,slow guitar strums like that’s a normal Saturday morning? Honey. That song is aching. It’s cinematic. It’s closeted gay in a war film meets Catholic guilt meets forbidden glances across a church pew. Straight men don’t write like that unless they’re trying to land a GLAAD award or overcompensating for owning five pairs of cargo shorts. Let’s also not ignore COACOAC and all along.

AND DON’T GET ME STARTED ON THE GAY BARS. This man isn’t “accidentally” stumbling into queer spaces like he tripped over a curb and landed on the dance floor at Heaven. He’s comfortable there. He brings his long-term “girlfriend” there for her birthday. He’s not just vibing—he’s thriving. He’s at home. He probably knows the bartender by name. Homophobes do not take their “girlfriend” to one of the most queer friendly known places (Amsterdam) and then write about missing their lover while they’re there 🤨. And then do damage control when people figure out the line HE pointed out to make it clear it was not about his “girlfriend”. Be serious.

Also, let us not forget that this man promoted Polari. Polari. Do antis know how deep cut that is? That’s not “I saw a rainbow once and felt warm.” That’s “I researched underground queer British slang from the 1900s and wore it proudly on my literal chest.” It’s like if a straight dude casually wore a T-shirt that said “Stonewall was a riot” and then went right back to watching football. That’s not a casual choice. That’s a coded statement wrapped in giggles and subtext.

Oh and antis love to erase how Louis helped shape Harry into the fearless, gender-fluid person he is today. “Painted nails make Harry beautiful.” HE SAID THAT. Welllll before it was male fashion. That was during the era of tight skinny jeans and judgment, not Gucci gowns and Vogue covers. He was supporting Harry’s expression when people were still saying “that’s a bit much, innit?” And then there’s the “I’ve never seen you in a dress before mmmmmm” moment. The delivery? Iconic. The eyes? Full of love. The vibe? Boyfriend.

When Harry waved the pride flag for the first time and Louis was literally BEAMING at him like he’d just watched his baby take its first steps? Yeah, that wasn’t the reaction of a man who hates queerness. That was a man who was proud. That was personal. That was “I see you, and I love you” with a Donny accent and a huge smile.

Also, the way antis act like Louis would be totally fine with queer fans in person, but then immediately log onto Twitter like the Wicked Witch of Westboro Baptist Church is so laughably illogical I’m getting a six-pack from the mental gymnastics. Homophobia isn’t platform-dependent! You can’t be like “he’s a proud dad at concerts but a bigot in 280 characters or less.” That’s not how people work. That’s how satire works.

And please—please—tell me how a homophobic man would stand in front of thousands of queer fans waving pride flags and say “I feel so fucking confident, so fucking protected.” He didn’t say “appreciated.” He didn’t say “respected.” He said protected. As in, “I feel safer here than anywhere else.” If you think a homophobe says that sincerely, you need to open a book and then maybe touch grass.

But maybe I’m just a troglodyte, sitting in my little internet cave, clutching my gaydar and refusing to accept twitter takes as gospel. But what I do know is that Louis is about as homophobic as that guy who claps as he watches a drag queen get engaged. He’s queer-coded, emotionally intelligent, and more comfortable in queer environments than most straight girls at bottomless brunch.

Let’s be real. They don’t actually think he’s homophobic. They just don’t see him. They don’t listen to him. They refuse to understand him. And instead of owning up to their bias, they make it weird.

holy shit anon i am kissing you on the mouth this is beautiful and SO correct. also, hilarious. i laughed unreasonably hard at the jokes and puns. whoever you are, please get into a writing field. youll thrive there.

[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

15: LOUISIANA LOVIN’

Previous chapter < MASTERLIST > Next chapter

Summary: Jealousy takes root when you witness the unspoken history between Bucky and Sarah. Tension builds between you and Bucky as doubts about your arrangement surface. But when emotions boil over, so do your inhibitions, leading to an intimate moment neither of you can deny. However, just as passion threatens to pull you closer, a cryptic call from Sam reminds Bucky that secrets are still in play.

Warnings: Jealousy, angst, fake dating, explicit sexual content (NSFW), mild language, secret-keeping, hints of emotional vulnerability.

Word Count: 4053

You stared at Bucky and Sarah. The way their eyes sparkled as they looked at each other, the unspoken history that lingered in the air between them. On the surface, they were polite, simply friends... or, rather, the sibling of a friend… but deep down, you could feel it: there was more. More than friendship. And it was far from simple.

Bucky's body language betrayed him. The awkward shuffle of his feet, the mild blush creeping up his cheeks, the familiar neck scratch that always surfaced when he was nervous. It was as though his body spoke the words he refused to say.

Something stirred deep inside you. It wasn’t understanding. It bubbled up, sharp and bitter, threatening to consume you. Jealousy? Insecurity? You couldn’t name it, but it burned all the same. It felt as though your feet were doing the thinking as they carried you away toward the harbor. You needed a cool breeze to steady the storm that was already brewing inside you.

“There you are!” Bucky’s voice called out, filled with exasperation. You turned to see him striding toward you, frustration etched into every line of his face. “People are asking where you are. It looks pretty shady when I don’t know where my girlfriend is.”

“But I’m not.”

“Not what?”

“Your girlfriend,” you said, the words short. “So why do you even care?”

“Because we had a deal,” he hissed, voice low but tinged with anger. “This needs to be convincing.”

He was angry, of course he was. But for some reason, you couldn’t find the energy to care.

“What’s the point?” you muttered, your voice barely audible over the waves crashing against the dock.

Bucky’s jaw tightened, and his voice dropped into a cold whisper. “You think this is easy for me? My life’s already complicated enough without you making it worse.”

The words stung, sharper than you expected and unshed tears burned your eyes. Why did it hurt so much? Why did you even care?

Your throat tightened around the retort you wanted to snap back at him: What life? But, for once, your brain managed to hold your tongue. Instead, your shoulders slumped as you turned back to the water, eyes unfocused as you stared at the rippling surface.

“What’s wrong?” His voice had softened, the anger dissipating as he noticed your demeanor.

“Nothing,” you lied with a shrug, refusing to meet his gaze.

“I know that look. I own that look. It's never nothing.”

You didn’t answer, letting the silence stretch out between you. You did notice when he moved closer to you, his warmth brushing lightly against your side. It wasn’t unwelcome, though it didn’t help the confusion you already felt.

“So…” you began.

“So?” he echoed, watching you closely.

“You and… Sarah?” you asked, the question hanging in the air.

“What do you mean?” he stuttered, his tone almost defensive.

You tilted your head to one side quizzically, your silence encouraging him to divulge his secrets. You looked at him and he felt like you could see through him. He hated that about you. You always seemed to see right into his soul. He let out a defeated sigh, his walls beginning to crack under your gaze.

“It wasn’t a thing… not really,” he started, voice hesitant.

You stayed quiet, letting him talk at his own pace.

“It was soon after we all came back from the snap. After Thanos. Things weren’t great for me. Steve had just left, and I wasn’t coping very well with it. I was in court-mandated therapy, but that just made things worse. And Sarah… she was there. She was kind, she listened, she…” He trailed off, his voice laced with a wistful longing that made your chest tighten.

Bucky sighed, staring out over the water in the same way you’d done moments ago. “I wasn’t in a good place, and I didn’t want to put her through that. She deserves better.”

Your chest tightened even further at his words, an ache settling somewhere deep inside you.

This time there was no stopping the words, they tumbled out before you could stop them. “But you have no qualms about using me for your personal needs.”

Fear and regret filled you almost instantly. Had you gone too far with your words this time? But you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him to gauge his reaction. The silence that followed felt like an eternity. Heavy and charged. Your hands trembled slightly and you curled them into fists to make them stop.

Even though you couldn’t see him through the hair that hung across your eyes, you could feel his stare. He was watching you now, really looking, maybe seeing you for the first time. Finally there was a flicker of understanding.

“You’re jealous,” he murmured, his voice almost disbelieving.

Your stomach twisted and heat rushed to your cheeks. “I’m not,” you lied, refusing to look at him.

But Bucky wasn’t one to let go easily. He moved closer, his presence overwhelming as he leaned toward you, brushing hair away from your face.

“Look at me,” he coaxed.

You tried to resist, but it was impossible not to give in to that voice. When you finally risked a glance, you couldn’t look away. His face was so close, so incredibly tender. His striking blue eyes were searching yours and their intensity stole your breath. His thumb traced the corner of your mouth, lingering at the edge just long enough to set your heart racing. Before you had time to process your thoughts, he leaned in and kissed you.

The kiss was soft at first, almost tentative, like he was testing the waters. But when you didn’t pull away… when instead you leaned into him… things shifted. He became hungrier, lip pressing harder against yours, insistent, almost desperate, like he’d been holding back for far too long.

Your hands found his chest, your fingers curling into the fabric of his t-shirt as you felt his vibranium arm encircle you, pulling you closer. His flesh palm grazed your knee, fingers wrapping around the base of your thigh before he slid his calloused palm under your skirt. The searing heat of his skin on yours was intoxicating.

It felt like the world around you had disappeared— the crashing waves, the squawking seagulls, the drone of fishing boats— all faded into the background until something cut through, shattering the moment.

“Ewww! Uncle Bucky’s kissing a girl!”

The shrill laughter of Sam’s nephews brought you back to reality. Bucky pulled away just enough to watch them bolt down the dock towards their home, their laughter echoing in the distance.

“Kids,” he muttered, unable to hide the smile on his face.

The interruption made you realize that this was too public, too exposed. Bucky had come to the same conclusion and with a frustrated groan he pulled back, dragging his hand through his hair. He stood up, offering you his hand and pulling you up from your seat at the end of the dock.

“Come on,” he said, his voice still thick with emotion. “Let’s go somewhere… quieter.”

Without waiting for an answer, he held your hand with a firm, unyielding grip and led you the short distance to the Wilsons’ boat.

After a quick scan of the area for any curious onlookers, Bucky climbed over the edge with the kind of ease that clearly came with super soldier strength, his movements graceful and quick. He turned back to you, extending a hand to help you over. As soon as you were both on board, his hand was around your waist and his lips found yours with the same urgency as you'd felt earlier. He spun you, your bodies moving together in the same way you'd danced in your apartment and he led you inside the cabin. 

As soon as the door was shut his hands were everywhere— your waist, your back, your ass— as though he couldn't get enough of you. And you didn't want him to stop. You threaded your fingers through his hair, wrapping them around the back of his neck and pulling him closer, anchoring him to you. He responded by deepening the kiss, teeth grazing your lower lip before pushing his tongue into your mouth and swallowing your moan. 

He walked you backwards until you hit the spokes of the helm of the boat, the ornately carved edges digging into your shoulder blades. When you winced softly, Bucky moved you to the side and with surprising gentleness, he lifted you onto the ledge next to the wheel without breaking the kiss. His movements were seamless, his strength evident through the effortless way he maneuvered you. His hands found their way to your knees, pushing them apart so he could step between them, body crowding yours as though he couldn’t get close enough, his warmth chasing away the coolness of the shady cabin.

His mouth moved to your neck, leaving a trail of scorching kisses that made you arch into him, an ungodly moan escaping your lips. Something akin to a growl echoed in Bucky’s throat and he buried his face against your shoulder, breath ragged, almost as if he was trying to regain some sense of control.

“What’s wrong?” you asked breathlessly, as you felt him still against you.

“I don’t have any condoms,” Bucky muttered, his voice laced with desire and frustration.

Without hesitation, you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. Your lips brushed against his ear as you whispered, “I have an IUD.”

He froze for a moment, a faint look of confusion flashed across his handsome features as he pulled back to look at you. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you rasped. “I’m sure.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. With a low, guttural sound, his mouth was on yours again with renewed hunger, his hands pulling you closer like he never wanted to let you go. Every ounce of hesitation seemed to have vanished as he rubbed his crotch against yours, movements desperate as every touch spilled out as a confession of how much he wanted you.

His hands kneaded your flesh, rough with desire, almost unrelenting, although there wasn’t enough of you to satisfy his needs. Every pull, every squeeze of your thighs, your breasts, sent a wave of heat to your core.

Your shaking finger fumbled with the button of his jeans as the urgency inside you dictated your movements. When you had finally managed to unzip his pants, he groaned against your lips, almost like he had been waiting forever for this moment. Your hand slipped inside without waiting for invitation, past the waistband of his boxers and you wrapped your fingers around his length. The sheer size of him filled you with a mix of wonder and apprehension and your touch faltered for a second… until he groaned, hips jerking into your grasp. The grunts falling from his lips and the way his member was swelling under your strokes had your heart thundering in your ears.

When he finally lined himself up to your entrance and pushed into you, the stretch was exquisite, inch by inch, toeing the line between agonizing pleasure and a blissful ache. The first time he slid into you, it was as though the world ceased to exist outside this bubble. He took his time, dragging his cock through your slick folds, the friction sending shivers up your spine as he coated himself in your arousal. Your body welcomed him greedily. Every single nerve on fire as he filled you completely leaving you gasping at the sheer fullness of him. 

Bucky had the decency to pause, letting you adjust to the sheer size of him, his hands gripping your waist as though it was the only thing that kept him grounded. The stretch inside you was intoxicating, a mixture of fullness and exhilaration that left you gasping for air.

When he finally moved, his pace was deliberate, slow and deep. It wasn’t long before his restraint began to unravel. The deliciously wet sound of your bodies moving together echoed through the cabin, the rhythm of your passion making the vessel sway gently, punctuated only by the slap of his balls against your ass.

You clawed at his back, your nails digging into his sweat-slick skin as wave after wave of ecstasy washed over you. Every scratch seemed to spur him on, his pace quickening and moans thickening. His brilliant blue eyes locked onto yours, unyielding, unwavering, unshakeable, looming over you as he drove his hips into you with utter relentlessness. 

Your mouth parted, one word tumbling from your lips, raw, desperate: “Bucky!”

His name on your lips was his undoing. The way you moaned his name, wild and unrestrained, sent him spiraling into oblivion as he drove into you with one final, quaking thrust.

You bit back a whine as his thrusts slowed, thinking it was over when he hit his climax. But then his hand came up to cup your cheek, tilting your chin up until his blue eyes were locked onto your, burning with an intensity that sent a thrill through you. You couldn’t look away, not when he looked at you like you were the center of his universe.

But Bucky wasn’t finished. His cool vibranium fingers circled your clit, coaxing you in a freefall. His touch was firm, unforgiving as his focus shifted, his eyes resolutely fixed watching you as he drew out every ounce of pleasure that he could from your already worn out body.

Your climax struck hard and powerful, as your aching cunt pulsed steadily around him, milking every drop of his seed. Your hands clutched at his shirt as you fought to keep his gaze as your release consumed you in this passionate and primal moment. He wasn’t just claiming your body— he was claiming your spirit.

You barely had a moment to catch your breath when the sharp buzz of Bucky’s phone broke the spell between you. He groaned, his forehead falling briefly to your shoulder as he grumbled in frustration.

Reluctantly, he twisted around so he could put his hand in his back pocket and pull out his phone, the screen lighting up with Sam’s name. His jaw tensed, you could see the muscles working overtime as he glanced at you, still trembling from his touch.

“I have to take this,” he murmured, sliding out of you with the utmost care, but his metal hand never left your thigh. Instead, his cool thumb absentmindedly stroked the still sensitive skin, finding a way to stay connected to you.

Holding the phone to his ear, Bucky answered curtly. “Yeah?”

Sam’s voice was audible due to Bucky’s closeness. “Where the hell are you, man?” 

Bucky rolled his eyes in annoyance, but his fingers continued to draw light teasing circles against your skin, drawing soft whimpers from you. “We’ll be back soon,” he said brusquely.

“Not ‘we.’ I need to talk to you alone before the rehearsal dinner,” Sam said, his voice dropping in volume with a hint of seriousness. “It’s private. Make sure she doesn’t find out.”

Bucky shot you a quick glance and you could see the lines of concern etched into his forehead. You raised an eyebrow in question, but he just shook his head at you before returning his attention to Sam’s phone call. “Give me a minute, I’ll be right there.”

After hanging up, Bucky tucked his cell back into his pocket, his hand on your thigh finally stilling. You waited for him to speak, his expression phasing seamlessly from frustration to resignation.

“Sam needs my help with something,” he said, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face before running his fingers across your cheek and down to your chin. “Why don’t you head back to the hotel, get ready for Sarah’s rehearsal dinner? I’ll meet you there later.”

“What does he need help with?” you asked, tilting your head to one side.

You just about caught the flicker of hesitation as he searched for an answer that wouldn’t lead to more questions from you. “It’s just some last-minute setup stuff for the rehearsal dinner.” He kissed you lightly, as if to smooth over your questions.

There was something about the way he dropped his gaze that told you there was more to it than he was letting on, but you chose to let it go for now. You adjusted your underwear and slipped off the ledge, smoothing your skirt as Bucky tucked himself back into his jeans. He handed you a handkerchief from his pocket so you could clean yourself up a bit better.

He helped you off the boat, his hand around your waist, steadying you as you stepped onto the dock. The walk back to the car was quiet, his hand brushed against yours but neither of you had the courage to take hold. When you reached the car, Bucky opened the driver’s side door for you, handing you the keys.

“You go on back to the hotel and get ready. I’ll be there as soon as we’re done.”

You closed the door and rolled down the window and leaned out to look at Bucky. “You sure everything’s okay?”

He smiled at you tenderly and nodded, huffing a small laugh. “Just Sam being Sam. I’ll be there in a bit, okay?”

He bent down and gave you a quick peck before stepping back so you could drive off. You nodded and pulled off, still feeling slightly giddy from your coital activities. Although his vague answer left a small question mark in your mind.

Sam was on the porch waiting for him, accompanied by a rather excited looking Torres. But Sam’s face was serious— the kind that Bucky hated, the one that screamed business. 

“You took your time.” Sam’s face relaxed into a smirk as his eyes roamed over Bucky’s disheveled hair and the faint flush still lingering on his cheeks.

“I was busy,” Bucky muttered with a disgruntled expression, his eyes flicking nervously to Torres who was tapping furiously on a tablet and glancing around as though someone would appear from the bushes to ambush them at any moment.

"I see that," Sam smirked before gesturing toward the side of the house. "Walk with us."

Bucky frowned, this was even more serious than he had suspected. He followed Sam, his shoulders tense while Torres fell into step behind them, still muttering and swiping across his tablet. Sam led them into the clearing in the wooded area in front of his home, where it was fairly secluded and they would be able to talk with little fear of being overheard.

“We’ve got a situation.” Sam spun around to face Bucky so unexpectedly that Bucky almost walked into him. A collision was avoided only by the good fortune of super soldier reflexes.

Torres held the tablet out to Bucky, who begrudgingly accepted the device. “Take a look.”

Bucky’s jaw tightened as he looked at the screen which displayed a web of HYDRA connections. At the center of it all was the Sharma family name, linked by angry red lines to names of familiar HYDRA operatives.

Bucky’s pulse raced as he scrolled through the information. “This is a mistake.”

“No mistake,” Torres said, shaking his head. “I’ve checked, double, no triple-checked. The Sharma family has some pretty deep ties to HYDRA. Not the entire family, but key members— enough for us to investigate this. This wedding isn’t just a party— it’s an incredible opportunity.”

“It’s the perfect place for us to scope out the HYDRA network without suspicion,” Sam sighed.

Bucky gritted his teeth— HYDRA— he just couldn’t get away from them. His stomach turned as he scanned the list of names that Torres had compiled that had links to the organization. Familiar names, some with faces, some just aliases, but all sending a chill down his spine.

Sam put his hand on Bucky’s shoulder in solidarity. “Look, we’re not asking you to take them on. This is just recon. You’ll have backup. Torres and I will be running ID checks, putting names to faces. All you gotta do is keep your eyes open and mingle.”

“Y/N’s gonna have a hard time with this.”

“Not a word to her,” Sam said firmly.

“You think she already knows?” Torres suggested quietly, knowing he was about to incur Bucky’s wrath.

Bucky’s head snapped in the direction of the young soldier, his sharp glare fixed intensely on him. “What the hell are you trying to say?”

“Relax man…” Torres took a step back, raising his hands defensively. “I’m just saying— she’s close to the Sharmas. We just have to consider the possibility that she knows something, even if she doesn’t know it’s connected to HYDRA.”

“She doesn’t know,” Bucky growled dangerously. “Don’t bring her into this.”

“We don’t want her to accidentally let something slip,” Sam stepped in, his tone calm but firm. “Not because she’s involved, but she trusts her friends. You heard the way she spoke about them to us. We don’t want to put her in harm's way for no reason.”

“Yeah,” Torres took over, his enthusiasm for the recon mission superseding his tactfulness. “If HYDRA gets wind of this, they’ll scatter and we’ll lose our chance to ID anyone.”

Bucky shook his head in disbelief.

Sam sighed, his tone softening. “I get it man, I do. But if you tell her, you risk putting her in even more danger. Ignorance keeps her innocent... safe.”

Bucky took his time answering, looking down at his hands as he fidgeted with the vibranium plating in his fingers. His mind flashed back to the boat— the intimacy, the way your voice sounded when you moaned his name, the look in your eyes when he had kissed you.

You were a good person. You were kind to him, to everyone. You’d managed to worm your way into his life and even though this relationship was staged, even though he wasn’t supposed to feel anything beyond friendship, he couldn’t deny how much he cared about you.

The thought of keeping this from you clawed at his conscience. He wanted to tell you, to keep you safe, but Sam’s voice cut through his thoughts, forever the voice of reason.

“If she knows, she’s at risk. She isn’t trained, she might slip and inadvertently give away the plan. Fear makes people act differently. Don’t you want her to enjoy her best friends’ wedding without having this over her head?”

“And you’ll be there to look out for her. That’s what matters,” Torres added quietly, for once having a good point.

Bucky pursed his lips, there was no denying their logic, but it didn’t make him feel any more comfortable. He exhaled heavily, as though he was getting the weight of the decision off his chest. They were right, you were his responsibility, he had brought you into his life and if keeping this secret meant keeping you safe, he would have to carry that burden.

“Fine,” he grumbled through gritted teeth.

Sam nodded, relief painted across his face, he squeezed Bucky’s arm in an attempt at reassurance. “We’ll make this work, Buck. She’ll be fine.”

Bucky didn’t reply. Instead, he grabbed the car keys that were dangling from Torres’ pocket and walked away from the sound of the younger man’s protests. The shouts died away quickly, although Bucky could hear Sam quietening him and telling him not to worry, that Bucky would bring his car back later.

All Bucky could focus on was you— your sweet laugh, your sassy tongue, your way of knowing just what he needed. Then there were the quiet moments where you let him in, showed him your trust in him. Bucky got into the car, slamming the door and closed his eyes. He clutched the steering wheel, trying to push away the image of how you looked with your head tossed back, arching into him, your body warm and supple, so eager for his touch. The whole relationship had started out as a convenient arrangement, but you weren’t just anyone to him.

Bucky started the car, now wasn’t the time for dwelling on his guilt. He had to focus on protecting you, even if it meant hiding the truth from you… for now.

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[growth-opportunities]

it would make my day if you could write about someone being forced to grow massive tits against their will :)

"No, you can't do this! Please let me go home! The trial was only supposed to last twelve weeks and it's been twelve weeks and I'd like to go home! I'll call the cops! I'll sue! You can't-"

Bryn's tirade was cut short as Dr. Sullivan's hand took hold of her breast, her words replaced with an involuntary moan. Her breasts had never been more sensitive; even her hospital gown brushing against her swollen nipples had been enough to send waves of arousal through her body. To be gripped like that, squeezed properly, was overwhelming. Her hips bucked, lifting off the bed.

Dr. Sullivan did his best to maintain an even expression, even as he kneaded his patient's breast. He knew his warm smile would do nothing to comfort her, nor would the placating gaze of his green eyes peering out from behind his glasses. It was a strange mix of ingrained bedside manner and cruelty. "Miss Callahan, I would ask you to please calm down. Just think of how you're forwarding medical science! You're the only subject who has responded in this way to the medication and we need to study it further."

Gritting her teeth, Bryn did her best to fight through the arousal being forced onto her. "P-please… Just let me go home… You already have your data, don't you? I'm begging you… Don't make me hnnng… a-any bigger…" Bryn had tried to back out of the trial halfway through, when her formerly C-cup breasts had doubled in size, but her contract had bound her. She could do nothing but countdown the days to the end of the trial, watching in fear as her breasts grew larger and larger beneath her gown. She had no idea what cup size they'd be now; 'big enough to rest in her lap' wouldn't fit on a label.

The simple act of brushing his thumb over her nipple was all it took for Bryn to tense up again, her mind clouding over with arousal. Dr. Sullivan couldn't be sure his words would get through to her, but he said them anyway. "This could revolutionize plastic surgery! This could revolutionize hormone therapy! We still have no idea why your body reacted the way it did. We need to keep going! We need to see how far we can push it! We need you to keep getting bigger! We need-"

Now it was Bryn's turn to interrupted, screaming and moaning as she arched her back. The nipple pinched between Dr. Sullivan's fingers twitched. The doctor's eyes went wide as a damp spot formed on the gown right over her nipple. Bryn, for her part, sobbed and moaned as her emotions and her sensations conflicted with each other. Dr. Sullivan was in awe. "Fascinating… You're full of surprises, aren't you? Exactly why we can't stop now! Who knows what'll happen as you get bigger!"

[ninaskchn]

𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐭𝐞 ༉‧₊˚.⁀➷

therapist! jonathan crane x female reader.

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: when your father decided that you needed therapy, taking you to his dear friend dr. crane to treat and help you, you thought it wouldn't work at all, but it turned out to be everything you needed.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: SMUT(minors dni!!), noncon/dubcon, depression, cursing, crane is a mysoginistic prick, using therapy for unhinged reasons, smut, hair pulling, jonathan just being an creep, choking AND strangulation, dacryphilia, hitting, unprotected sex (safe sex its great sex!!), breeding kink, forced breeding, power dynamics, i think crane should be a warning himself, reader being borderline stupid and naive. also this has a lot of backstory i’m so sorry i got carried away lol.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 7.1K

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿’𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: omg my first fic on here!! this is also my first work on english and my first smut ever so i apologise in advance for any mistake!! i hope y'all enjoy it anyways ahahahaha live laugh love jonathan crane👏🏻 feedback its very appreciated so i can improve and continue to publish better works, anyways enjoyyyy 💓

𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝘂𝘁

It was awkward, to say the least.

You were sitting across from Doctor Crane in the couch at your dad's house, legs crossed as you watched him write on his clipboard, something about it making you feel anxious, a little nauseous, even.

This wasn't your first session, you started doing this four months ago, not long after your divorce that caused you to fall into a spiral of sadness and misery. Your failed— and short marriage was the main reason you started taking therapy with your dad's friend, the chief of Arkham, Jonathan Crane, and still, you couldn't bring yourself to talk about it.

He was patient, you told him several times that he was a saint. Regardless, before you started with the sessions, he explained to your dad that he didn't really do this; therapy really wasn't his strong suit, but for a friend, a desperate one, he would gladly do it.

Your dad came to him, offering a big stack of money if he would talk to his little girl, make her recover her once joyful personality, like you had one to begin with. Jonathan really couldn't say no, and not really because of the money, he had other reasons in mind, unethical reasons.

And there you were now. You were quick to open up to him, eager to talk, to be listened and he, on the other hand, was ready to listen, to give you advice, console you and help you get through the sorrow that was following you since you were young, playing the role of your knight in shinning armor.

"I can't believe you don't actually do this" you said once, sniffling your nose with a handkerchief he gave you as he examined you with a warm gaze, an empathetic grin on his face. "You're really helping me"

Jonathan was quick to wave his hand and tell you that it wasn't a big deal, that he was just doing his job, and if you weren't so innocent, so stupid, you would have noticed the mischievous sparkle that flickered in his eyes for a split second.

You were landing right in the palm of his hand.

Not even thirty minutes into the first session you told him everything about your past; every little thing you thought he needed to know to treat you. And you were slightly right; he did need to know those things, but not to treat you, just to manipulate you and mold your little brain into what he was envisioning for you and your future together.

Truth was, you hated everything about your life, regardless of the fact that you had everything. That's what you've been told since you were a child; a big house, a lot of money, maids taking care of you so you wouldn't have to move a finger and just sit pretty and relax inside the walls of the huge mansion that confined you since you could recall.

You have everything. That was bullshit.

Sometimes, you couldn't help but think that people told you that out of pity, like they knew how miserable you felt, but not daring to say a word about it. Your dad was a powerful man, and you were aware of that, ever since you were born, he had bussines with Falcone and you knew that people feared him, he practically ruled Gotham, that lifeless and dangerous city that you had to live in.

You have everything. You were tired of that sentence. You didn't care at all about these nice things surrounding you, those dresses in your closet, those diamonds in your jeweler, that fancy car you owned since your eighteenth birthday, no, that was useless in your eyes, because all you really wanted, was love.

It was a lonely life; you learned how to do everything by yourself, how to comb your hair, how to deal with your period when it first came, how to dress up properly and do your makeup. You didn't even had to learn about boy problems because there weren't any boys in your life, you were homeschooled. So you were quiet, not really having to talk at all, there was nobody to talk to.

And since Jonathan was the only person you were talking to at the moment, you started to feel like you loved him, the idea sitting right with you without you even knowing it, thinking that this was how therapy normally went.

Loneliness striked your life at a young age; your mother died from a strange disease when you were eight, leaving you with a shattered heart thad bled everytime you walked past her bedroom, or saw a picture of her. You practically watched her die, a witness of how she lost her strength, how her once beautiful skin turned pale and yellow, and lost every little spark within herself, and the worst part was that all the money you had, couldn't even help her.

It was a deep wound that you carried with yourself, with nobody to talk about it.

Your father spent his days locked up in his office, and when he wasn't there, he was out in the city doing unthinkable things that you didn't even wanted to know about, leaving you on your own, having to fill all of those silent and empty rooms by yourself, with nobody to laugh with, nobody to hold you and see you grow. He wasn't really around, working all the time, too busy to know that his daughter didn't seem to care about all the expensive stuff he bought for her, not even taking the time to have dinner with you or hold a simple conversation. He loved you, you knew that, he just wasn't the type to show his affection with words or actions, but with gifts. And you hated everything about it.

But now, Jonathan was there, making you feel listened, finally saving you from falling into loneliness again. Your whole life, you thought you had a horrible sickness, that you were doomed to this awful destiny of sorrow and silence, but now, with his sweet words and good company, you couldn't be more than relieved.

You wished sometimes that you met him earlier, that this whole therapy stuff started before, and you even confessed it to him. And it irked him a little, that you didn't even remember how you two really met each other, hiding his annoyance with a warm smile.

Some months ago, your father started to brought you to parties he attended, parties were all the corrupts scumbags from Gotham reunited and celebrated how they were dragging the city to the gates of hell on their benefit, and you couldn't be more happy to attend them. You knew he was bringing you because he recently broke up with the young girl he carried with him— that was most likely your age, and needed a pretty thing to hang of his arm and take care of the people he didn't feel like talking to.

So you accepted this new life, eating up this role of socialite like it was made for you.

It was a chance to know people, to speak and make new friends, but you learned quickly that those people weren't there for that, and picked up on how mostly of the people who talked to you just wanted to climb up the social ladder and gain some extra points from your father.

He, even, introduced you to a couple of people that seemed close to your age, and you chatted with them, feeling extremely anxious because you weren't used to this, so it was weird to them seeing such a pretty woman, with your status and fortune, acting so shy and quiet in a place that your dad practically owned.

After a couple of hours, you learned the agenda. All you had to do was put on a fake smile, get them off your father's shoulders and pretend you were very interested in what they had to say, hiding your uncomfortable expression behind your glass of champagne, promising them that you would arrange a reunion with your father someday.

One of those nights, your father introduced you to someone, someone who you didn't pay much attention because he seemed to be uninterested too, only being there for the sake of his job.

"Pretty girl, come here" your father said, a cheerful tone of voice as grabbed you by the shoulder to get your attention, snapping you out of your train of thoughts. "I want you to meet my friend, Doctor Crane"

You looked at the man in front of your dad, his pale blue eyes already sizing you up discretely, looking at you up and down in a way that didn't go unnoticed by you, a shiver running down your spine as his eyes finally locked with yours.

You couldn't help but feel small under his gaze, your glass now forgotten in your left hand, the right one extended to take his and stretch it for a quick second, returning to your first position, his expression remaining serious.

"Nice to meet you" he spoke, his voice sounding like velvet in your eyes, not quite sensing the undertone behind it. "Your father told me wonders about you"

You grin, the irony of that sentence making you laugh a little, what wonders could your father know about you? But you kept your composure, the conversation not going any further, and you forgot about him fast enough, when in another of those annoying parties you met the love of your life — or so you thought.

That same night, when you went back home, you were thinking about spending the rest of your life with some guy that flirted with you at the bar, and Jonathan, prayed to whatever thing listening to him up there, that crossed your path with his again.

He practically obsessed with you, because it felt right. You were young, beautiful, wealthy and had a last name that could open even more doors for him, getting tired of saving Falcone's man of going to jail; you were an opportunity, tied to a nice pair of legs.

After a few weeks of stalking, it kinda broke his heart that naive as he expected you, you got married to the guy from the party; he told you then his name was Lewis, and now you doubted it that was even true.

You were finally going to get what you always wished for, a family, love. And it was perfect. Everything was perfect.

It was a dream that you were living in. A dream that shattered in front of you no longer than three months after.

After you contracted married with this man, you took care of the house, now learning all of these housewife duties that you didn't know anything about, but making your best effort to please him, to be the perfect woman ever created, departing from your old life and habits and adjusting them to his own.

You couldn't be more happy, regardless of your bad cooking, the bad-swiped floor and the half-done bed that welcomed you both every night, you finally had love.

It lasted three months. Your wholesome real life fantasy of a marriage destroyed when you found out, accidentally, that this man was just an employee of your dad, willing to get a promotion if he married you. At that moment, you didn't know who you hated more, if the bastard, or your dad who was literally bribing the bastard to love you.

But your dad only wanted to make you happy, tho.

You were embarrassed, not quite sure of how to tell this to Jonathan, because after all, he was there for you, just for the money your dad was paying him. Your cursed the day your dad became rich, because all of it was making you miserable and it felt like it wasn't going to stop.

At this point, a feeling of despite against you was growing within Jonathan, after a few weeks treating you, he quickly remembered why he didn’t chose this path of career, but remembering that he was there because of a major reason; a reason more important than your helpless cries for attention.

He was sick of you, all you ever did was complain in the commodity of your million dollar house, unaware that there were more important problems in the world. It isn’t completely your fault, Jonathan thought one day, you were just an ungrateful brat, and his work was to tame you, and he planned to do just that today.

"So," he startled you, narrowing his eyebrows, an expression in his face that you could only understand as concern. "remember, if you don't speak, I can't help you".

You chuckle and shift your weight in the chair, immediately feeling your eyes fill up with tears as you confronted the fact that you had to speak about it, right now. He was quick to offer you his handkerchief, as he always did and with shaky hands you took it, sniffling onto it, closing your eyes as you felt your whole body shake with each one of your cries.

You felt Jonathan put his hand on your knee, softy caressing the skin that his thumb could reach, opening your eyes and looking at his, Jonathan welcoming you with a pitying look. You put the tissue aside, both him being so close and his scent impregnated on the piece of fabric making you feel a little giddy, a little confused.

Why was your heart racing so much? He was your therapist, here to talk about your former husband.

Jonathan couldn't help but grin a little, knowing he was maybe breaking a rule here, touching you like this, being so close. He couldn't care less, after all, he wasn't here listening to you cry and bitch about your whole life for the sake of your well-being. He was here because he wanted you to break and get on your knees to him. Figuratively and literally.

"It's so embarrassing" you struggled to spit out "He didn't even love me, Doctor"

He hummed, dragging his chair so he was a little closer to you, you looked at him through your teary lashes and tried to keep it together, this wasn't the first time you cried in front of him, but the reason itself was enough to make you feel full of shame.

He didn't say anything, this being a motivation for you to continue.

"My dad was paying him" you murmured, cleaning the mascara off your cheeks. "It was all a lie"

The whole situation was absurd, what happened to you still felt like a sick joke they were playing on you, your dad and Lewis, probably waiting for the perfect moment to tell you the truth.

But that wasn't going to happen, right now the only thing that felt true to you was Jonathan. He set you up to that, and you blindly fell on his silly trap.

"Poor thing" he cooed you, moving his hand a little further up your thigh, noticing the goosebumps on your skin. A mastermind, that's how he felt. "How could they?"

That was all the mendacity he fed you with since you started seeing him, making you believe he was actually empathizing with you, full of loathe against everyone who hurt you, who dared to leave you alone, but now he was there, his task being to pretend to care.

"It's pathetic" you blurted out, leaning into his touch when his prying hand went up to your cheek. You really couldn't say anything more, crying against his hand like it was something you did every monday morning. "I'm so sad. I don't know what to do"

He shook his face, your eyes meeting his with a confused expression, black stained tears dropping on your lap and wetting his hand before he returned it and looked over his clipboard, pretending to think.

You were so vulnerable, ready for him to destroy. He finally got you where he wanted. He then explained you that you were so sad that it made you unaware of a lot of things, blinded by your own pity against yourself that every door that opened, you closed. It all came down to a thing; you needed a diagnosis.

He gave you a moment to process the information, ready to continue with his plan.

"Actually," he started, his tone now more firm, more strict, the one he used when you were approaching the end of the session. On the last one, he recommended you to touch yourself, to liberate oxytocin on your brain or something you really didn't understood.

It was almost evil from his side, he knew that your only thought while doing it would he him ordering you to do so.

"I'm sorry to be the bearer of such awful news, Y/N" he stated, making your heart skip a beat. "But I think you're sick"

You nearly gasped, the air got stuck in your throat, more tears gathering in your eyes. You lifted one of your hands to your chest, a million thoughts crossing your head as Jonathan's clever eyes examined your expression.

Bingo.

"Sick" you repeated after a moment, almost like you were making peace with the revelation. "How sick?"

It was an innocent question, your tone of voice shaking as your inferior lip trembled, holding it with your teeth in an attempt to not burst into tears again, your whole body feeling like it was going to break into a million peaces by how much you were shaking in the couch.

Jonathan was quick, standing from the chair he was on and taking a seat by your side, his hand swiftly placing in your knee. You looked at him confused, he never got this close, maybe your sickness was serious.

"What am I, Doctor?" you whispered, your eyes showing him a hint of fear that made him finally lose all his faked professionalism. "Depressed? Crazy?"

Both of you were dying of anticipation now; meanwhile you feared that you were going to get admitted to Arkham, Jonathan was seeing the golden ticket to the best future he could ever achieve, and all thanks to you.

"Oh, no, no" he purred, his hand making its way up to your thigh. "You're sick, not crazy"

You parted your lips as his hand moved more further, not really sure of what was happening, not daring to stop him, too scared of your mental health to think about anything else, not helping the way your legs started to part too.

A sudden gasp left your lips as his hand squeezed your tight, a smile you never saw on him appearing on his face. The crying stopped a moment ago, the surprise of having him so close making you go a little numb.

"I know what a girl like you needs" he said, almost sternly, like his hand wasn't centimeters away from your panties.

Was in that moment, that you knew this wasn’t about therapy anymore.

"You think so?" you whispered, your voice still shaky, but now for a whole different reason. "And what is it, Doctor?"

"To be fucked stupid"

It almost shocked you how he said that as it was a normal diagnosis, like he gave you a name of a medicine you could go and buy at any drugstore in town. You gulped and didn't move when his grip tightened on your leg, your face growing red.

A loud gasp escaped your lips when at your lack of response, Jonathan grabbed you hard by the jaw and forced you to look at him. Your eyes glistened with nothing but fear, your brows narrowing as you mumbled something that he really couldn't understand, and it wasn't like he wanted to.

"You're sick, Y/N" he repeated, more harshly this time, his hand moving your head as he spoke. "And I'm going to cure you"

He let go of your face to clasp his lips against yours, a kiss very far away from sweet, his mouth moving roughly against yours. You never had been kissed like this, so you tried to play it along, trying to show him some of the love you felt for him, that you thought you owed him.

But he didn't care if you felt loved during the kiss, trying to assert the dominance he held upon you, his hand now holding firmly the back of you neck to prevent you from pulling away.

It was a mess; your teeth clashed, drool was dripping from your chin as his tongue explored every space of your mouth, not leaving anywhere of it untouched. Your movements were a little stiff, unsure of what to do, trying to provide the sweetness that he lacked.

His hand moved to your the front of your neck and squeezed it a little, making you yelp in surprise, the sound muffled by his mouth. You tried to get away from the kiss, confused about his rough actions against you, a little scared of him even, almost like you didn’t trust him every little part of your brain in this same couch for the last couple of months.

But then it clicked on your foggy brain, he knew you, perfectly— you only knew his name, you didn’t know what this man was capable of.

You could only move a few centimeters away from his hungry mouth, your lips parted as tears welled in your eyes from the pressure he was applying to your neck.

“Stop” you managed to stutter, your breath mixing with his. “I can’t- breathe”

You doubted that he listened to you, your voice not coming out of your throat at all and getting stuck in your larynx, your voice-box completely muffled by his strong grip.

“Shut up, brat” he spitted, his tone sounding full of abhor, your eyes wide open as you felt the air leaving your body and your lungs starting to burn. “Always getting what you want”

You weakly placed one of your hands around his wrist, another attempt of gasp elicited from your agape mouth as he lifted his other hand and choked you with both, something in your dizzy mind telling you that he was possessed.

“Crying all the time- complaining” he continued, not caring if you were listening, the suffocation being to much to bare now. “So selfish”

And maybe he was.

Your brain was filled with fear, wondering how it all went from a kiss to this— almost getting killed by your therapist in your couch. You opened your eyes to meet his, feeling like your chest was on fire as there wasn’t any air flowing in, seeing how the blue of Jonathan’s eyes has darkened and his lips were parted as well, the muscles of his jaw twitching as he choked you to death.

Your eyebrows narrowed together in terror as you noticed that familiar tingly sensation in your lower belly and your thighs clenching together. Maybe it was something about him exercising this power over you, how you felt so feeble under his touch, that was probably leaving bruises on your neck for you to carry and show around what he was making you do it.

You didn’t have enough time to think about it, you were practically dying.

“And you are enjoying this?” he said with an amused tone, probably noticing how your thighs fragily contracted against one another.

You felt yourself slowly lose your consciousness when finally the relief came and the air started to flow again to your desperate lungs, taking long and loud puffs of air when his hand let go of your neck. Your erratic breath was interrupted by a loud moan that escaped you when Crane yanked you by your hair and shoved you to the floor.

He was quick yo position you between his legs, looking at you through his unfixed glasses, giving you a twisted smile that made you quiver in fear, that growing wet patch on your panties making you feel like a really sick girl.

“Doctor-” you mumbled, closing your eyes as he pulled your hair, withdrawing a mewl off your mouth. “Hurts”

“You talk when I tell you to talk” he snickered, adjusting the way his fingers gripped your hair. You thought that he might just pull out the strand he was tugging. “I’m sick of your whining”

You felt more tears well up in your eyes; not sure if it was from the pain in your head or how his words felt like a knife that landed right on your heart. You were confused, sad, angry— a little hot, too.

“I pay you yo listen to me” you said, your voice so shaky you were lucky he could understand you. You wished he didn’t understand you.

Another sort of moan left your lips as a hard slap made a landing in your cheek, your face turned to the side because of the impact. You closed your eyes in disbelief, a cry coming out as you felt helpless, wondering if this was some exposure therapy he was experimenting on you.

He repeated himself, instructing you to talk only when you were told so, nodding in defeat as you accepted whatever this was and continued to play along with Jonathan’s sick fantasy of controlling you, without even knowing it.

You looked at him with nothing but inquietude, the look in his eyes giving you the foreboding that nothing good was about to happen now, frightened of what we would do to you.

He didn’t show any hints of letting go of your hair anytime soon, just holding it firmly to keep you looking at him through your heavy lashes, a wicked grin on his smug face.

“Let’s give that whining mouth of yours a good use” he said, and you gulped, understanding what he wanted and quivering in fear, not really understanding why the sticky sensation between your legs grew.

“Undo my pants” he commanded, and you stayed still, your eyes not leaving his even when another slap landed on your tear-wet face. “Do as you’re told, brat. This might be your only cure”

You couldn’t help but sob a little, his tone sounding so definitive, so professional. Your trembling hands reached his belt and unbuckling it ungracefully, taking longer than he expected, you heard him chuckle as you unbuttoned his pants afterwards, then putting your hands back in front of your lap.

“C’mon” he pulled your hair again, causing you to moan in pain. “Don’t make me tell you what to do”

You looked at him again in nothing but shame, trying to resist to this humiliating request of his, but complying it anyways. He said he was going to cure you, but now you doubted it, right now, you only wanted this to be over.

With a last look at his eyes you returned your attention to the growing bulge in his slacks, the shame in your brain being present at all times, not quite helping the way your eyes were fixated on his clothed member. You were quick to free him out after your staring earned you a other harsh pull of hair, your lips turned into a line when his cock slapped his abdomen, causing his dress shirt to wrinkle a little.

“Go on, Y/N” he encouraged you, as you looked at him with pleading eyes, silently begging him for mercy, knowing that even if you screamed it at him, he just wouldn’t listen. “This isn’t about what you want, anymore. Is about what you need”

A tear slid from your eyes and disappeared down your cheek when his free hand placed the tip of his hard cock on your parted lips, gesturing you to take it and not waste more of his time— more than you already did.

“Open up, whore” he said under his breath, using your hair as a device to move your head and help you shove his length down your throat. You complied, the tears in your eyes now soaking in you cheeks by the effort that you were making trying to welcome his thick shaft down your mouth.

You were sure you scratched him with your teeth a few times as he bobbed your head up and down with his strong hand, manhandling you without care for his own pleasure. You placed your hands on his knees, trying not to gag, but when his tip touched the bottom of your throat, you couldn’t help it.

You cried as you felt suffocated again, now for a whole different reason, a more humiliating one, and you almost wished he killed you then. His hips buckled everytime your lips reached the base of his cock, the room filled with the sounds of your mouth and saliva coating his shaft and the soft moans that came out of his poisoned lips.

“Take it, whore” he said, his voice now husky and distorted by the pleasure, the pain that your teeth accidentally inflicted on him turning him even more. “God- you are horrible at this”

He chuckled between heavy breaths, pulling you by the hair and releasing his cock from your mouth, a vulgar pop filling both of your ears at the sudden separation of your lips and his member. Your eyes looked at the floor, feeling such a shame that the mere thought of meeting his face with your fearful face made you cringe, the pulsating pain on the back of your head making you dizzy.

“You can’t suck dick properly” he said, his tone sounding like he was making fun of you. “No wonder why your husband left you. You’re just pathetic”

You finally rose up your face to look at that insufferable smile of his, ignoring the way his cock was still hanging there in front of you, almost brushing your nose. His fingers finally untangled from your hair and giving you some sort of solace, the consolation that this traumatic session was over.

Maybe the remedy was worse than the sickness itself.

“Jonathan, stop it, plea-”

Your imploration was completely ignored, followed by another slap on your wet cheek that made you cry even more, not understanding how this man could’ve been the same one who made you felt loved and finally listened. You fell for a lie once again.

“Get on the couch” he simply said, his words were like a bucket of cold water fell on you. “Stop the bitching, don’t want to hear it”

“And I’m your doctor. Not Jonathan” he reminded you, making you feel even more ashamed.

You did as he told, again, half-standing from the floor and sitting next to him, trying to take as much space from him as you could before he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer, your face growing red as his face was now centimeters away from yours.

“You look so beautiful when you cry” he whispered, caressing your face but trying to nor wipe the tears away, almost like he was admiring you. It made you melt into his touch, glad that his kind demeanor was there again. Even if his words made you cringe— and the fact that his cock was still out, you felt your heart grew warmer by the way he tenderly touched you.

It didn’t last much longer, when his lips twitched into a malicious smile and went down to nibble your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses around the bruised skin and bitting where his fingers hurt you previously, making your fingers wrap on his hair and cry for mercy, trying for him to stop hurting you this much.

“Shut up, stupid brat” he repeated that same insult, making you swallow your cries, closing your eyes in disbelief as he continued to injure your already suffering skin.

You arched your back in surprise when all of the sudden his hands reached for your breasts, groping your tits like his life depending on it, stimulating you through the fabric of your shirt, but all you felt was fear and anger, impotence flowing through your veins because you just couldn’t scream and push him away, fear was freezing you on the spot.

The worst part? You maybe didn’t wanted to push him away. Because maybe if he gets what he wants now you would be cured and he’ll be back to normal, returning you the sweet Doctor Crane that you met once, not this monster that was groping you like a piece of meat.

He clicked his tongue and dropped both of his hands to spread your legs open, forcing your back to drop onto the hand rester of the couch. You looked at him with big eyes, your heart felt like it was going to jump out of your chest and scream to Jonathan that enough was enough, you just couldn’t take any of this anymore.

But your heart stayed there, between your lungs that seemed incapable to hold any air, making your breathing erratic. So nobody screamed Jonathan to stop, and he continued with his profanation against your persona— your dignity.

He bit his lip at the sight of your fucked-up face, your legs open as it showed him the dark patch on your baby blue panties, darting his eyes from your half-exposed crotch to your teary eyes.

“God, keep crying and I might come now” he growled, lowering his face to meet your pussy, kissing it through your underwear, making you mewl, closing your eyes at the sudden attention your core was getting.

You felt embarrassed at how much you enjoyed when he moved the fabric to the side and started making out with your cunt, swallowing your fluids like a starved man.

“So wet” he mumbled against your labia, the vibration making your eyes roll back, bitting your lip to prevent any moan to come out; he was raping you, why did he make you enjoy it? “I bet you like this, to be treated like a whore”

You shook your head, more tears falling out of your eyes as you felt nothing else but humiliation, pleasure washing over your body everytime his tongue brushed your clit, your back arched against nothing.

“You like it?” he said, finally pulling out and pushing his body up so his face was in front of yours, his cock grazing against your now stimulated pussy, a gasp leaving your lips, a gasp that quickly turned into a hurting moan when his hand slapped you again, this time in your throbbing cunt. “Answer me”

“I- I do” you whispered, gripping his shoulders when you felt him align the head of his member with your whole, scared of how it was going to fit. You had trouble taking it when he face-fucked you, how the fuck it was going to fit down there?

“I’m going to fuck you so good” he whispered between pants, jerking himself off before entering you. “You’re going to forget that pathetic husband of yours”

You couldn’t help but cry, trying to push him off by the shoulders, a terrified look on your face. “It won’t fit, Doctor” you pleaded, a crooked grin on his face as you keep on calling him that. “I beg you, don’t-”

“Yes, beg me” he said, starting to push his member inside you with a slow but relentlessly pace, not giving you enough time to adjust, just to scream and hit him weakly on the chest, face and shoulders before ge grabbed your hands and pinned them down, on the sides of your body. “I’m going to cure you- do you so good”

His voice was low, as he barely could speak when he felt just how tight you were, your walls hugging his cock just the right way, his pulsating head making your mind dizzy, the stinging pain starting to be forgotten.

But when he slid out and entered back it, the hardness of his movement made your insides burn with pain, a loud cry echoing in the walls of the living room as he started to trust into your pussy with a fast pace, not caring at all if you felt good.

He snapped his hips against yours with an animalistic force, growls escaped from his mouth every time his cock was welcomed by the warmth of your stretch whole, the sensation making him go even more feral, making you cry more.

He let go of one of your hands and grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at his eyes as he fucked you vigorously, the blue on his iris not existent anymore, only his widely dilated pupils meeting yours, your blurred vision distinguishing the depraved expression in his face.

“You- so tight” he snarled, his voice barely audible, covered by the sound of skin slapping and your loud cries. “I bet your stupid husband didn’t fuck you like this”

You felt nothing but shame as you felt his cock now sliding in and out more easily, the wetness of your cunt growing as he spoke to you like that, that familiar heat flourishing in your lower belly as his words degraded you, your cries quickly becoming moans.

“This was all you needed- fuck” he said, his spit splashing your face as he talked, his words full of disdain. “A good dick, that’s all it takes to keep bitches like you quiet” You nodded, thinking that if you agreed he would stop. How wrong you were.

In a quick movement Jonathan took his cock out and spun you around, not giving you time to get on your ass up by laying your chest down before he stabbed your hole again, pushing your skirt all the way up to see how his pelvis came into collision with your ass.

You were moaning like a bitch in heat now, sure that the maids were listening, not really caring about it anymore. Jonathan was fucking you nice and hard, your mouth wide open as his tip brushed your cervix, screaming to him to keep it right there.

“I’m close” he said, pulling your hair back to press his chest to your back, his other hand going down to play with your swollen clit, wanting your to come around his cock like the slut he knew you were. “Come with me, you whore”

“Yes” you moaned, your tongue out as his cock hit the right spots, making your hips to move against his, grinding against his hand and dick, feeling your wetness drip down to your thighs. “Yes, yes, I want to”

He laughed, approaching your ear with his tongue to bite it, leaving a long and wet kiss underneath it that made you grow hotter, your eyes closed as you let him use you; the only thought in your mind being him and his wonder-working cock.

Truth was, he was fucking you stiffly, every slam of his hips stronger than the last one, but you were so deprived of touch, so dick-starved, that even if Jonathan was fucking you like a lifeless doll, only for the sake of his pleasure, you loved it, even when it hurt you.

“I’m going to fill you up” he said against your ear, his hand leaving your clit unattended as he grabbed your hip to increase the velocity of his thrusts, ramming your hole like a demented man, making your head drop against his shoulder and scream at the ceiling, now knowing what he meant by curing you.

“Going to get you pregnant” he said, more to himself than anything “so you don’t have to bitch about being alone anymore”

You opened your eyes with terror, you didn’t want children, you were so young. The idea made you frightened, the moaning now sounding like little nos and pull outs, but Jonathan didn’t listen.

“Doctor please, please, pull out” you pleaded, reaching for his hips and trying to push him away, one of his hands slapping your ass and pulling you down by your shoulder blade so you wouldn’t fight anymore. “Doctor Crane please”

“I will fucking fill you up, Y/N” he chanted, laughing at the idea of your round belly and your swollen tits, carrying his baby all day and feeling all worked up and needy all day, only waiting for him to fuck you all day. “You won’t be alone again. You won’t be sad again”

Then you realized it.

When he came, your hot walls creamed every single drop of his cum, making his thrusts sloppy and slow, his moans filling your ears as you sobbed under his touch, feeling his seed paint your walls and load your insides with his sperm.

That was your cure.

His hot release that now flooded inside your leaking cunt, that was your so-promised antidote. He took away your solitude by giving you his and yours firstborn, a bastard baby that would give you the company that you lacked.

You felt him chuckle as he rode out his high, the chase of his own climax made you forget yours, so now there you were, your swollen cunt looking for its release while his rested among your insides calmly, like it was meant to be.

He didn’t pull out immediately, taking his time to appreciate the sight of your skirt resting in your hips all rolled up, your bruised neck and messy hair, the way your ass was exposed to him by the way he had you arching your back. All for him— for him to wreck.

He pulled out and rolled his eyes when you started crying, now being annoying instead of hot. You sat on the couch and saw him button his pants and fix his hair, hissing when you felt nothing but pain growing in your worn-out pussy. You explained through your weak voice how he ruined your life, that he was the worst person you’ve ever met and that now you had to carry the product of his sick and twisted rapist-fantasy, even tried to hit him, but your pathetic tantrum only gained you another slap in the face, and a stern look.

When he tried to stand up and leave, you grabbed him by the wrist and begged him not to, he couldn’t just leave you, not now, not ever.

“Don’t be so ungrateful” he said, a smile that made you feel nothing but trepidation in his face. “You’ll never be alone again”

You couldn’t help but feel scared. Scared of him, of what just happened, of what’s going to happen next, scared for your future son with this evil specie of a man.

When you continued to cry, and he pulled you for a hug as he assured you that he would never leave you; and how could he? He had a long life of success waiting for him now, giving a girl of your status his last name, his children. Oh, it’s going to be wonderful, he just needed to tame you and make you the perfect slave for him, and that wasn’t going to be hard.

You were sure that you’ll never be loved, but at least now Jonathan was going to be with you. You’ll never be alone again.

thanks for reading. w/love, fenina;)

taglist: @lovesickxcherries @genini @ilunapb @ostricx @devotedlyshadowytheorist

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[cru3wrld]

short insta bios!

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—love u to the moon n to saturn 🪐

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—music is my therapy

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[pseudowho]

Just got hit by the thought that Nanami would be an incredible social worker

While I think he would deeply, deeply have the heart for it, I think that the social work structure would leave him feeling ultimately helpless and dissatisfied, being unable to offer as much help or support as he wanted to, especially to vulnerable kids/teenagers.

As such, I would Headcanon him leaving social care behind, and becoming a foster carer to troubled teens.

I picture him woken by a phone call in the middle of the night.

I picture him making sure the room is set, for a fifteen year old boy whose grandfather had passed away, with nobody left in the world.

I picture him driving in the night, hair tousled and glasses on, briefly lit by streetlamp glow; he'd stop at a garage, and grab snacks, and drinks. He'd have a blanket and a pillow ready in the car.

I picture him meeting this fifteen year old boy, to whom he looks to stern and so unfriendly. The boy cringes, and shies, and tries to hide his tearstained face in the pillow and blanket in the back seat, beneath the in-out-in-out orange streetlamp glow.

I picture the boy settling in his new room and crying himself to sleep. He was so distracted by grief, he didn't notice the welcome basket, with new pyjamas, and toiletries, and gloves and socks and underpants, and a little laminated card of 'house rules'.

I picture Nanami getting up early to read the boy's case file, and pressing his face into his hands...before rising up from the table, and making a huge breakfast.

I picture the boy waking to the smell of eggs and bacon, and the man who doesn't smile much, but whose actions smile for him.

I picture the boy not trusting kindness without the expectation of reciprocity.

I picture patience; I picture the way the boy pushes limits like he's pushing against a seatbelt-- not, of course, because he wants the seatbelt to give way. He pushes because he wants to see if it holds...and, it does hold.

I picture the way that, slowly but surely, the boy opens up. Nanami discovers he does have a smile, and he does have a laugh, and he does have dreams and he does have aspirations.

I picture movie night. I picture staying out after curfew, and the clenching pain that comes with having disappointed Nanami. I picture growing out of clothes, gentle chastising tuts and smiles at too-short trousers. I picture Christmas, and therapy sessions by twinkling lights.

I picture the way that, when Nanami drops the boy to school, the boy turns back, and waves, and calls "Later, dad!" without having realised what he's done. But, Nanami does, and he gets a drive-thru coffee just to tear up a little in the lay-by.

I picture the way that the boy never knows how hard Nanami fights to keep him, when the social care system wants to move him to someone else again, and again, and again, just another boy lost in the system.

I picture the way that the boy sees other boys and girls come and go...but he stays, always, and he doesn't know why.

I picture the way Nanami doesn't let the boy see the adoption papers, until it's 100% certain that the boy will accept.

It's silly, really. Yuuji would have accepted being adopted, the first time Nanami Kento offered breakfast and a kiss on the forehead, instead of a smile.

☝️ Nanami Kento, unable to say 'no' to the next waif or stray

Love,

-- Haitch xxx

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

Your stories have definitely scratched that Astarion itch that I've had since I started the game!

One thing that's diffently not sat right with me at the end of the game, is how tav and the gang don't run after astarion after he loses his immunity to the sun. I would imagine that if the player character was romantically involved with the guy they would atleast try to shield or comfort the poor guy. A short drabble on that would be awesome!

That's so sad, I heard that's what happens 😭😭 I'm in act 3 and haven't had to see it for myself yet so yes, let's do some preemptive therapy there! And just warning since I haven't beaten the game yet I'm sure this will be inaccurate as fuck, but also with spoilers somehow ~

~

It was an exhilarating feeling, to win against all odds. One that Astarion had never been confident he would experience. It felt good, final. The official beginning of his new free life, even if it was bittersweet.

This was the bitter part, the end of his illithid protection. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon, and the burn was already starting. He was being an idiot, standing there with the rest of you like he belonged, waiting for the last possible second before he had to scuttle down in the darkness. But he wanted to see this out. Hadn't he earned that right?

According to the laws of reality, no. No he hadn't, because you had barely opened your mouth before the pain started to overwhelm him. The others would be able to hear it, the sickening sound of his skin crackling.

He was out of time. But before he could make a break for it, you happened. Astarion had been a little preoccupied with his impending doom to pay close attention to what you had been mumbling. But then sudden blackness was blanketing above your heads, opaque enough to make it as dark as night.

Astarion's eyes widened as the pain subsided, surprised beyond belief.

You were looking at him with concern in your eyes, gesturing to the think cloud of darkness above your head, "Will this be dark enough? Can it still get through?"

Astarion stared at you, momentarily confused on why you would do something like that. Before he remembered, oh. Yes. The extended care for his well-being was probably included in the whole love thing. Of course. Obviously.

That was definitely going to take some getting used to.

But the reasoning didn't stop an idiotic smile from blooming on his face.

You grinned back at him, somehow still managing to read his mind even without the tadpoles, "Did you really think I would forget about you?"

He had, but through no fault of your own. One of these days he was going to actually remember that he was worth the effort to keep alive.

"Thank you darling," Astarion said, ignoring the quested as he waltzed up to you. He grabbed your hand in his, bringing it up to his lips to kiss, "Just what would I do without you?"

"Speaking of," You turned to the Emperor, a question in your eyes as you vaguely waved upward, "Is there anything we can do about this particular problem?"

"The astral tadpole is still-"

"I'll pass on that, thank you very much," Astarion interrupted, cringing at the very thought of willingly letting another worm into his brain, "But I appreciate the thought."

There were worse things than living his life in darkness. And Astarion was counting becoming a mind flayer in the top three.

He watched, participated even in everyone's final goodbyes, always eyeing you at of the corner of his eye. It's not that he thought you would leave after you both declared your eternal love for each other, but... the two of you hadn't exactly talked about the specifics of the future either.

But that didn't stop you from leaving together. Astarion hadn't expected you to keep the dark cloud above his head as you walked the streets, startling nearly every passerby. But hells, the heroes of Baldur's gate had earned the right to a little strangeness.

You both had decided on going to the nearest, most windowless inn that you could find. Astarion wanted nothing more than to scrub the brain viscera from his skin and sleep for three days. Preferably with you in his arms.

But before all that... he had to know something.

The question was out of him as soon as you both were behind closed doors, "So what happens next to the great hero of Baldur's Gate? I'm sure you have something in mind."

He was just praying those future plans still involved him.

You blinked at him, head cocked like he was asking a silly question, "We go and find you a cure so you can walk in the sun again of course. What else would we do?"

That took Astarion aback, "I-Do you think that's really possible?"

"Well," You started, counting off on your fingers, "We know that illithid powers can do it. As well as devil contacts and ritualistic demon sacrifices. If that's all possible then that means there has to be something else on the other end of the spectrum, right?"

Astarion didn't exactly share your blind confidence. But you did have a point. The two of you had managed so many impossible feats in such a short amount of time. What was one more?

"I suppose there's a chance," Astarion said, hope fluttering in his chest with every word, "And if there is a chance no matter how small, I'm going to take it. But..."

He didn't want to ask, but he needed to know, "Are you sure this is what you want? I would... understand if you wanted to go your own way."

In all honesty, Astarion would not understand. He'd be absolutely furious. Especially after everything you'd been through. This was more of a confirmation for his waning self-confidence than anything else, versus a sincere to desire to let you go your own way. He had no intention of letting you go, not if he could help it.

But his near certainty in your feelings was the only thing that gave him the confidence to ask the question in the first place. And you did not disappoint.

"No, this is what I want," You insisted, reaching out to take his hand in yours, "You're what I want."

That was exactly what Astarion needed to hear. He used your joined hands to tug you closer, face to face.

"Good, because as selfless as I am, I really did not want to let you go," Astarion smiled, leaning in to lightly press a kiss to your lips, "I hope you realize that my love has made me a tad bit obsessed with you my dear."

"I'm sure it's no worse than me," You sighed, resting your forehead against his own, "You've really ruined me for anyone else haven't you?"

Astarion grinned, leaning in for another kiss. He had every intention of making it stay that way, for as long as you would have him.