#sex therapist near me
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seanorpenmslmftinc · 3 months ago
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Sean Orpen MS LMFT Inc. provides couples counseling in Seattle that focuses on long-term relationship health. Sean Orpen offers individualized sessions that help couples address challenges such as trust issues, communication breakdowns, and emotional distance. With a focus on developing healthy relationship habits, Sean guides couples through meaningful conversations, fostering a renewed sense of connection and mutual respect.
Sean Orpen MS LMFT Inc. 1200 Westlake Ave. N. #407, Seattle, WA 98109 (360) 529–0862 My Official Website: https://www.orpentherapy.com/ Google Plus Listing: https://www.google.com/maps?cid=12727529731991012456
Our Other Links: Sex Therapist Seattle: https://www.orpentherapy.com/sex-therapy-in-seattle
Service We Offer:
Sex Therapy Couples Therapy Best Couples Counseling Marriage Therapy Relationship Therapy
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davonmethod · 1 year ago
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Finding a Sex Therapist Near You: A Beginner's Guide to Tantra Meditation
Understanding the Benefits of Tantra Meditation for Sexual Wellness
Are you searching for a sex therapist near you who can help improve your sexual wellbeing and relationships? Have you considered exploring the transformative practice of tantra meditation to enhance your intimate experiences? In this comprehensive guide, we will delve into the world of tantra meditation for beginners and how it can complement the expertise of a sex therapist, offering you a holistic approach to sexual wellness and intimacy.
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The Role of a Sex Therapist in Enhancing Sexual Wellbeing and Relationships
A sex therapist near you can play a pivotal role in addressing various sexual concerns and relationship issues. Sexual wellbeing is an essential aspect of overall health, and seeking professional guidance when faced with challenges can lead to positive changes in your life.
Sex therapy goes beyond addressing immediate sexual problems; it also involves relationship counseling. A skilled sex therapist can help you and your partner improve communication, build trust, and reignite the flame of intimacy. They provide a safe and non-judgmental space for you to explore your desires, concerns, and preferences.
Exploring the Basics: What is Tantra Meditation?
Before delving into how tantra meditation can complement sex therapy, it's essential to understand the fundamentals of this ancient practice. Tantra meditation is a holistic approach to mindfulness that originated in ancient India. It combines various techniques, including breathing exercises, meditation, and mindfulness, to connect the mind, body, and spirit.
The principles of tantra meditation revolve around the idea that by becoming fully present in the moment, individuals can experience heightened awareness, relaxation, and pleasure. It's not solely about sexual satisfaction but also about embracing the profound connection between spirituality and physicality.
Getting Started: Finding a Qualified Sex Therapist Near You
When searching for a sex therapist near you, it's crucial to consider their qualifications and expertise. Look for therapists who have specialized training in sex therapy, relationship counseling, and intimacy issues. They should hold relevant licenses and certifications, ensuring they adhere to ethical standards in their practice.
Choosing the right therapist for your needs is a personal decision. Consider factors such as their experience, approach to therapy, and your level of comfort during sessions. Remember that trust and open communication are vital in this therapeutic relationship.
The Benefits of Combining Tantra Meditation and Sex Therapy
Now that you have a better understanding of both sex therapy and tantra meditation, let's explore how these two approaches can complement each other for enhanced sexual experiences and overall wellbeing.
Sex therapy provides practical guidance and solutions to specific sexual concerns and relationship issues. It equips individuals and couples with the tools to communicate effectively and address challenges head-on.
On the other hand, tantra meditation fosters mindfulness, presence, and deep connection. By incorporating tantra techniques, such as breathwork and meditation, into your daily life, you can increase your awareness of your body and desires. This heightened awareness can lead to greater intimacy and satisfaction in your sexual experiences.
Tantra Meditation Techniques for Beginners: A Step-by-Step Guide
If you're new to tantra meditation, here's a beginner's guide to help you get started:
1. Find a Quiet Space: Choose a peaceful environment where you won't be disturbed during your practice.
2. Comfortable Seating: Sit comfortably with your back straight. You can use a cushion or chair if needed.
3. Focus on Breath: Begin by taking slow, deep breaths. Pay attention to the sensation of your breath entering and leaving your body.
4. Body Scan: Gradually shift your attention to different parts of your body, starting from your toes and moving upwards. Release tension as you go along.
5. Mindful Awareness: As you continue to breathe, become aware of your thoughts and sensations without judgment. Allow them to come and go like passing clouds.
6. Intention Setting: Set a positive intention for your meditation, such as enhancing intimacy or deepening your connection with your partner.
7. Meditate Regularly: Consistency is key. Practice tantra meditation regularly to reap its long-term benefits.
Incorporating Tantra Meditation into Your Daily Routine for Long-Term Results
To maintain sexual wellness through regular practice, consider these tips for incorporating tantra meditation into your daily life:
1. Morning Ritual: Start your day with a short meditation session to set a positive tone.
2. Evening Connection: Practice tantra meditation with your partner to deepen your emotional and physical connection.
3. Mindful Intimacy: During intimate moments, focus on being present and fully engaged with your partner.
4. Self-Care: Use tantra meditation as a form of self-care, nurturing your mental, emotional, and physical wellbeing.
In conclusion, finding a sex therapist near you and incorporating tantra meditation into your life can be a powerful combination for enhancing your sexual wellness and relationships. By addressing both the practical and spiritual aspects of intimacy, you can embark on a journey of self-discovery, improved communication, and deeper connections with your partner. So, take the first step towards a more fulfilling and satisfying intimate life today by exploring these transformative practices.
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inkeycounselling · 3 months ago
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Seeking a Private Sex Therapist Near You: A Path to Better Intimacy and Connection
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In a world where sexual well-being is often overlooked or misunderstood, seeking the help of a private sex therapist near me can be an important step toward improving your intimate life. Whether you’re dealing with relationship challenges, personal concerns about your sexual health, or a desire to enhance your connection with a partner, a private sex therapist can provide the expertise and guidance needed to create a more fulfilling and harmonious sexual experience.
Finding the right therapist to address sexual concerns can feel daunting, but it’s an essential journey toward unlocking a more satisfying and confident sexual life. If you’re wondering how to find a private sex therapist near you and what to expect from the process, read on to learn how therapy can help foster better intimacy, communication, and sexual fulfillment.
What is a Private Sex Therapist?
A private sex therapist is a licensed professional who specializes in helping individuals and couples work through sexual concerns and relationship dynamics. They use various therapeutic techniques to address challenges such as communication issues, sexual dysfunction, desire imbalances, or intimacy barriers. Importantly, sex therapy focuses on creating a safe, non-judgmental space where clients can openly discuss their sexual lives and explore ways to improve their satisfaction and connection.
A sex therapist’s role is not only to help with resolving immediate issues but also to guide clients through a process of deeper self-awareness and emotional growth that ultimately strengthens their relationships and sense of self.
Why Consider a Private Sex Therapist?
While sexual concerns can often be personal and difficult to talk about, they are more common than many realize. Here are a few reasons why people seek the support of a private sex therapist:
Sexual Dysfunction: Issues like erectile dysfunction, vaginal discomfort, or difficulty achieving orgasm can affect individuals and their partners. A sex therapist can help explore the factors influencing these challenges, whether they are related to physical concerns, emotional factors, or relationship dynamics.
Intimacy and Connection: Sometimes, couples experience a disconnect in their sexual relationship, whether due to long-term routines, stress, or a lack of open communication. A sex therapist can help partners rekindle their emotional and physical intimacy, reignite desire, and explore new ways to connect sexually.
Relationship Dynamics: Couples who have difficulty discussing sexual needs, boundaries, or desires may benefit from a therapist’s help. In a safe environment, partners can learn how to communicate effectively about their sexual wants and needs, leading to a more fulfilling and balanced relationship.
Sexual Exploration: Some individuals or couples seek sex therapy as part of a process of exploration—whether it's exploring new sexual practices, orientations, or desires. A private sex therapist can offer guidance, support, and a safe space to explore these aspects of one’s sexuality without judgment.
Healing After Trauma: Individuals who have experienced sexual trauma or difficult past relationships may find it difficult to fully enjoy or engage in sex. Therapy can provide tools for healing and regaining a positive, empowered relationship with one’s sexuality.
How to Find a Private Sex Therapist Near Me
Finding a sex therapist near me is easier than you might think. With a few simple steps, you can connect with a professional who can help you navigate your sexual health concerns:
Online Search: Begin by searching online for licensed sex therapists in your area. Many websites provide directories where you can filter results based on location, expertise, and therapeutic approaches.
Referrals and Recommendations: If you feel comfortable, ask for recommendations from trusted sources such as friends, family members, or healthcare providers who may have insights into good sex therapists in your area.
Therapy Directories: Websites like Psychology Today or TherapyDen offer searchable directories where you can find sex therapists based on location and specialty. These platforms often include therapist profiles with detailed information on their training, approach, and areas of expertise.
Consultation: Many therapists offer an initial consultation, either in person or virtually, to give you an opportunity to ask questions, learn about their approach, and see if you feel comfortable with them.
What to Expect in a Private Sex Therapy Session
During a session with a private sex therapist, you can expect a professional, confidential, and respectful environment where you can openly discuss your concerns. The therapist will ask about your sexual history, relationship dynamics, and any challenges you’re experiencing. This helps the therapist understand your unique situation and tailor their approach to meet your needs.
Depending on your goals, therapy might involve a combination of discussions, exercises, and behavioral strategies designed to help you improve your sexual well-being. Whether it’s building better communication with your partner, addressing performance concerns, or exploring new desires, a sex therapist will work with you to create a plan that feels right for you.
Seeking the support of a private sex therapist can be a transformative experience for those looking to enhance their sexual lives, improve their relationships, or address personal concerns. Finding a qualified professional near you is the first step toward a more satisfying and empowered sexual journey. Whether you’re dealing with specific challenges or simply looking to deepen your connection with yourself or a partner, a private sex therapist can provide the tools and insights you need to experience greater intimacy, pleasure, and confidence.
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mypoisonedvine · 2 years ago
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𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 || dark!jonathan crane x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 || since you're the only one of his coworkers at arkham who doesn't seem to be intimidated by his intelligence, jonathan decides it's time he finds out what does scare you... and how he can embody it. unfortunately for you, turning into your greatest nightmare doesn't prove very difficult for him.
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 || 5.5k
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 || EXTREME AND EXPLICIT NONCON (18+ only and please proceed with caution), drugging and kidnapping, paralysis, traumatized reader, forced orgasms/overstimulation, degradation, humiliation, choking, slapping, unprotected sex/breeding, misogyny, jonathan is very much in character which means he is incredibly evil and has incel vibes (I know y'all are not about to get mad at me for writing a villain being a villain and not uwu babifying him...)
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When you interrupted and corrected your colleague, Dr. Crane, about the correct combination of pharmaceuticals for a certain schizophrenic patient in the asylum who happened to have diabetes, you thought nothing of it.  After all, the whole point of staff meetings was to discuss and debate these things, and you weren’t about to let him damn-near poison a patient by giving him something that would interfere with his insulin.  You weren’t trying to be snarky about it, but you did sort of make a joke about how dangerous his suggestion was— and you didn’t notice the way Jonathan’s nostrils flared and jaw tightened when some others chuckled at what you said.
When you received an email from your therapist’s office informing you that there was evidence of a break-in in her building, but that the police were unable to officially determine if confidential client files were compromised, you thought nothing of it.  It was a big complex, these things happen, and you knew from being a clinician yourself how tricky the laws could be surrounding that stuff: she had to email you, legally, if there was any chance your file could’ve been accessed, and that didn’t mean you had any reason to fear your private therapy session notes had been read.  Besides, who would want to read about you and your boring life, diving into your mundane hopes and fears and daily stresses?
And when Crane came into the office with tea for you, you thought nothing of it.  Sure, you seemed surprised when he popped into your office with cups in hand— you asked him why he had two cups of tea, assuming they were both for himself, and he laughed.  Just that was out of character, he wasn’t much of a chucklehead or anything.  “Green tea, right?  With lime and honey?” he asked, setting one cup down for you.  You were still taken aback, but you had to admit defeat.
“Yeah,” you said, taking the cup as he sat down across the desk from you.  “Yeah, that’s my order— I didn’t know you drank tea.”
“Sometimes,” he informed you, hoping his poker face was holding up as he watched you take a sip.  He couldn’t help but stare at your lips wrapping around the little hole in the lid, the print of berry-red your lipstick left behind.  His heart was racing already, more than he expected.
When you finished the first sip, you smiled at him and let out a small, nervous laugh.  “Thank you,” you finally said.  So, yes, even though you clearly noticed this was slightly odd behavior, you thought nothing of drinking the tea.  That was one thing he hated about you: the thoughtlessness.  You didn’t seem to second-guess yourself much, if anything you were a little on the cocky side.  He found it so irritating— that confidence.  Sure, you were smart and you deserved to take yourself somewhat seriously, but the way you walked around this place— the way you ignored him so easily, or spoke over him if you wanted to, or ignored his suggestions when he gave them… you were a bitch, basically.  You clearly thought you were better than him— better than everybody else— for no reason at all.  Just because you were pretty and had a good job you thought you could get away with anything, surely; pretty girls always think that way.
He made casual conversation with you as you sipped the tea, asking questions he already knew the answer to, hoping to catch you in a lie.  For the most part, your stories matched up with what he’d learned from that file.  But, you left out the gory details— you left out the best parts, really.
You mentioned where you went to medical school and that you transferred mid-way through due to ‘stress’, but you didn’t elaborate on what really happened to you.  You mentioned having your own therapist— something you said passionately that every client-facing mental health professional should have— but left out what you were actually being treated for, not to mention the PTSD diagnosis.
He had to hide his smirk behind the paper cup every time you seemed to lose your train of thought— it wasn’t like you, so focused and determined all the time.  No, it was the drugs finally kicking in.  You went for bigger gulps of tea each time your eyes looked heavier, hoping the caffeine would work— but the trace caffeine in your green tea was nothing compared to what he’d added.
You tried to warn him that you were suddenly not feel up to par— that he needed to leave, and you might try to wake yourself up— but he just sat and waited.  He watched you try to get up, and lose your balance.  He watched you stumble, trip, and ultimately fall onto the floor limply.  He watched your eyes flutter shut and the final ounce of energy to fight it fade; he quietly took a final sip of his tea.
~
You woke up on the floor.  You could barely feel it beneath you, but you knew it was the floor— it was cold, and hard.  And you were looking up at the dark ceiling, at the fan spinning at the lowest speed; so you were definitely on the floor.
Jonathan was standing above you, not too far off, flipping through papers.  You couldn’t move— no matter how hard you fought to, you couldn’t.  You barely managed to turn your head, but it felt more like it rolled to the side on its own.  You tried to yell for Dr. Crane’s attention, for help, for him to explain what happened to you, but even your mouth couldn’t move.  The best you could do was breathe harder— actually, you were pretty sure your body was trying to hyperventilate, but you were too incapacitated to even have a proper panic attack.
He heard you, though; he looked away from the papers and grinned down at you.  “Comfortable down there?”
You started to put together a few things.  One, that the last thing you remembered was being in your office, and now you were in your apartment.  Two, that those papers were photoscans of chart notes— obviously you couldn’t make out the words from here, but the format gave away that it must have to do with a patient.
And three, that Crane was neither surprised that you were paralyzed on the floor, nor interested in helping you.
He half-rolled the papers in one hand and playfully hit the other hand’s palm with them.  “These have been quite interesting… revealing, to say the least,” he informed you, like it was a compliment— something you should be proud to hear.  “You’re quite the enigma, Doc!”
He sat down beside you on the floor, leaning on his hand first to find his balance with a little sigh; he seemed amused, actually, and your heart began to race.
As he started to read aloud from the page in front of him, you felt nauseous.  He was reading patient data, describing a client who was receiving individual counseling— or that’s what the CPT code indicated, at least.  As he listed the client’s demographic data— age, race, gender, height, weight— it became eerily obvious what he was doing.  You refused to believe it until he went on: “Client was recommended to Dr. Min Zhang for individual therapy concerning PTSD following sexual trauma.”
Your therapist.  This was a file he’d copied, which belonged to your therapist.  And it was obvious whose file it was.
As you tried with all your might to scream, Jonathan flipped a few pages ahead.
“Session fourteen, eleventh of June,” he continued.  “Client expressed frustration with an increased recurrence of nightmares and flashbacks to her assault.  Up until now, she has struggled to explain what triggers her anxiety without having to actually elaborate on the circumstances of the event.”
He stopped, but you weren’t exactly relieved.  In fact, you were horrified.  He had a little grin on his face when he looked at you, but you could finally see the rage in his eyes.  Suddenly, you realized how long it had been there.  You had sort of picked up on it before, the resentment he had towards you— and it didn’t take a Freudian expert to figure out that he was threatened by you, especially as a man.  He didn’t respond well to feeling upstaged and he clearly had an issue with women.  Maybe not that issue— he was good-looking and well-off, he didn’t need to have any issues with women if he didn’t want to— but an issue nonetheless.  
“Now,” he added, smiling wider than you’d ever seen him smile before, “client states she is ready to describe the incident in full detail.”
He set the papers aside for a second, leaning over you and almost looking… giddy, really.
“I won’t read you the rest, I’ve already pretty much memorized what goes on from there.  It was fascinating— seeing how what happened that night connected to the fears you still have today… the nightmares.  You said that you still feel sick at the smell of alcohol, you still don’t like to wear pinstripe skirts, and even just the wrong few words can make you feel like you’re right back there where it happened— on the floor of your apartment.”
All you could do was look up at him, and you felt your eyes get hot as they welled with tears.
“Not this apartment, obviously— the one by your old school,” Jonathan sighed, “but this will have to do.  And the smell of alcohol, well, I wouldn’t want to let anything cloud my experience— but I dabbed a little gin on my wrists, what do you think?”
He held his hand up by your face, caressing your cheek for a second, and you imagined yourself pulling away— turning your head and shrugging his touch off of you with a grimace.  But nothing happened, of course, and you were entirely helpless as the acidic stench of liquor became apparent.  You couldn’t give your typical outward reaction of a frown, but inside, you felt just the same as always: your stomach twisted, your heart pounded, your head swirled.
“Smell is such a… primal trigger of memory, isn’t it?” he mused, watching your face reverently.  “I can see it in your eyes, it’s affecting you even more than I expected.  You act so fearless at work— but I knew you must have been overcompensating.  God, you’re terrified— I would say you’re paralyzed, but, well… it would be too literal, I think.”
You knew that Crane studied fear and phobias, even trauma occasionally, as a personal interest within the field.  It was normal to have a favorite subtopic, and to conduct related research on it— but obviously, this was far from normal, this was absolutely deranged.  You knew that part of this was vengeance, in his own mind at least, but you didn't feel like you'd done anything actually wrong to him.  And the rest of it, well, it seemed like some twisted experiment, but if you were able to speak you would've tried to remind him that this 'research' wasn't going to get him published or advance his career— but of course, that wasn't what he wanted.  He just wanted to humiliate you.
“I was worried I didn’t have enough to work with, you know,” he added.  “I knew I couldn’t get you to where it happened, if I could even figure it out since you never filed that police report… and the skirt, well, I considered it.  It sounded pretty exciting to dress you up like the night it happened— what I would give to know everything you were wearing that night, but I don’t have a ton to work with.  Obviously, you don’t own any pinstripe skirts anymore, so I would’ve had to buy one… and I wasn’t quite ready for the looks I’d get shopping at Macy’s, so…”
Carefully, he reached up to take off his glasses, folding them and setting them down on your coffee table.
“You know how detail-oriented I am— I mean, I went to all this, didn’t I?” He continued, reaching down and brushing his fingers for a moment over your leg.  It was so instinctive to pull away that it took you a moment to realize you hadn’t… because of course, you couldn’t.  “But it’s impossible to recreate it all perfectly.  Clearly, I don’t need to— if only you could see it, Doc, you look… you look so weak.  Pathetic.”
Since the only thing you could do was look around, you tried to look away— to not give him the satisfaction of seeing the terror in your eyes.  He grabbed your face and turned it until you looked up at him.  
“Did you think you’d be able to face your greatest fear?  Perhaps with a bit more dignity?” he mused.  He looked different without the glasses on; and, ironically, you felt like he could see you even better now.
It was obvious that he enjoyed lording complete power over you, but a quick glance down to his suit trousers made it clear just how much he enjoyed it.  You quickly darted your gaze away, but it was too late; he started to climb on top of you, staring at your face uncomfortably close, and worked on opening his belt and fly.
“Fear rules us all, doesn’t it?  Everything you did, it was guided by your fear that it would— well, why paraphrase?  Let me find exactly how you put it…”
He picked up the papers again quickly, licking his thumb and flipping around until he found the right entry.
“Yes,” he said, “here it is: client states she lives in almost constant fear that it will happen again.”
So that's what this was: his disturbed take on exposure therapy.
As he tossed the copied charts away for the last time and reached up under your skirt, he leaned down and whispered in your ear— and you couldn’t even flinch from the harsh sounds of his words.  “It took you over fifty sessions to admit it,” he recalled, “to tell her the whole truth.  Not just what he did to you… what you did.”
With a small growl, he yanked your panties down your legs and rubbed your thighs with far too much aggression, such that you expected bruises from his hands— just like the ones you’d had before.
“You said he made you do it,” he continued, “you couldn’t help it, right?  But you said nothing’s ever felt like that— that you’d never had such a powerful orgasm.”
You would’ve vomited, except that that, too, requires your muscles to not be paralyzed.  Rolling your skirt up and spreading your legs, he positioned himself right between them, rubbing his cock's leaking head around your hole.
“Your greatest fear isn’t really that it’ll happen again, is it?” Jonathan taunted.  “You’re afraid someone’s going to find out how much you liked it.”
With that, he punched his hips forward and speared you on his cock.
It had been years since you'd had anything inside you, even your own fingers.  You couldn't even remember if being penetrated hurt like this during your assault, and you would've sworn before that you remembered every detail perfectly.  But this was so real, not a memory or a nightmare.  You couldn't cry out from the sting.
"God, it's tight," he groaned, "I bet you weren't this tight when it happened— you'd been whoring around, hadn't you?  Letting all kinds of guys use you… just ran into the wrong one and got your drink spiked.  But now…"
He hissed through his teeth, tightening his grip on your hip.  
"Now it's all mine, isn't it?"
Inside, you were screaming and kicking and pleading for mercy.  You imagined you would be angry and violent, beat him to death with your heel or something, but you wondered if you'd be forced to bargain with him— apologize for whatever you did to upset him, promise you wouldn't tell a soul about this as long as he left you alone.  But either way, it didn't matter… on the outside, you were useless, laying there and letting him use you.
"What made you come so much before?  Did he have a big cock, is that it?” he asked with a snarl.  “Did he know exactly how to touch you?  Or was it just that you’d been craving it, needed it really rough to get off properly?  Is that why you came while he raped you?”
It was a biological response, you told yourself like you had over and over, I couldn't help it, it wasn't my fault, it was a biological response— it wasn't my fault, I didn't like it, it was a biological response.
“I think I know what it is,” he mused, looking down at you with heavy eyes and almost purring as he watched your limp form bounce on the floor.  “I think you wanted to be put in your place.  You act so liberated, so empowered— but you’re a creature of instinct, like anything else.  You need someone to remind you how weak you are, I know, fuck, I know you do…”
He fucked you just a bit faster, grunting and tightening his fist on the floor by your head.
“You haven’t been able to have an orgasm at all, since then,” he stated— almost making it like a question, with the way he said it, but he obviously already knew it was true.  He sounded shockingly sympathetic— not even pitying, not condescending, for once.  “I’m sure for a while you didn’t even try, afraid it would remind you— but that’s the thing, you can’t finish unless you’re reminded.”
You almost surprised yourself when you heard a whine come from your throat; he smiled proudly.
"It's wearing off, I think," he noticed.  "I only gave you a small dose.  Can you move at all?  Can you beg me to stop?"
You opened your mouth to try to say everything you'd wanted to since you awoke, but all that came out was a moan.  You hated yourself for that, and he laughed happily.
"You don't want me to stop," he decided.  "Feels too good?"
I fucking hate you, you wanted to scream, you sick son of a bitch, I fucking hate you—
"You didn't say it outright, but he must have said something to you— during, maybe after," Jonathan theorized.  "You didn't say what it was, but you told your therapist about having a vivid flashback after being accosted by a delusional homeless man on the street.  He called you a bitch, seemingly for no reason… is that what your rapist said to you?  Did he say you were a stuck-up little bitch?"
As burning hot tears striped your temples, you curled your fingers over and over— maybe you could move your arms if you really tried…
"He was fucking right about you.  You think you're so much fucking better than everyone else," he growled.  "You think you're so fucking smart, and special.  But you're no fucking different, you're nothing—"
You whined and reached up, weakly trying to push him off of you, but all you could do was limply grasp at his shoulders.
"Nothing but a stupid—" he grunted the word as he slammed himself into you— "fucking—" he did it again— "bitch."
"No!" you finally heard yourself sob, clutching a weak fistful of his white shirt, but he grabbed your hands and shoved them back down to the floor.
“God,” he choked, holding your wrists tightly until you whined, “it’s so much better when you can fight— fuck, it’s so much better.  Keep struggling if you want, Doc, you’re still too weak for me…”
Your legs moved a little, but they felt heavy.  Sensation was only just beginning to return to them, like pins and needles, and it stung; you winced as you managed to squirm a bit beneath him.
"That's it," he praised, "this is probably just how you did it before.  Too drunk and too desperate for cock to really do much, but trying so hard to look like you hate it— I understand, you don't want anyone to know that you need this.  They'd never look at you the same again: the smart, accomplished psychiatrist who likes getting treated like fuckmeat.  What would they think of you if they knew?"
"No…" you said again, too weak and traumatized to say much else— but it wasn't what he said that made you say no, it was the pulse of pleasure inside your cunt.  He must have felt it, and if he didn't, he surely felt the next; yes, he did, because he smiled down at you excitedly.
"It's happening, isn't it?  You're gonna come."
He held on tight to one of your legs, gripping your thigh and staring uncomfortably into your eyes as he kept going— faster and rougher with each thrust.  You choked on your throat, trying to stop any part of this, but the pleasure was undeniable; it still hurt, yes, and you still felt so angry and sick and numb, but something familiar and desperate was tightening in your gut.  It’d been so long since anyone touched you… you’d forgotten how natural it could feel, even when it was so horrible.
"I read it in your file, but I still couldn't really believe it,” he laughed quietly, “I couldn't believe you came over and over while being raped— but here you are, wow, look at you… you’re so beautiful when you’re scared.”
A long, heavy sigh fell from your lips; your eyes got heavier, and your whole body seemed to relax— in a way totally different from the medication-induced paralysis.
He cooed at you, seeming oddly proud, and you were oddly compliant as he picked you up and pulled you into his lap.
Tears streamed across your cheeks as he held you close, one hand around your back while the other moved your hips against his.  “There you go— come for me, I wanna feel it— another one, baby, for me…”
It wasn’t much longer before another one came— from what you remembered, it was a lot like the first time, this terribly wonderful way your body protected itself from the trauma by immersing you in pleasure.  Of course, Jonathan helped you along by rubbing your clit with his thumb, excited to watch you surrender to ecstasy even when you begged him to just stop and leave you alone.
Of course, your protests were less and less believable as more of your strength and mobility returned— you could’ve tried harder to get away, but instead you found your hips rocking with his, your arms wrapping around his shoulders.  No, you didn’t want this— you never wanted this— but you found the way he spoke to you impossibly comforting even while it was still deeply upsetting.  “Tell me about the nightmares, darling,” he whispered— some impossible mix of pleading and ordering.
“A-almost every night,” you whimpered.  “I… I got used to it, but I used to… I used to wake up and think I was still…”
"They felt so real, hm?" he presumed, and you nodded.  “It’s real now… you don’t have to be afraid of the dreams anymore, it’s all real— I’m right here.”
You couldn’t tell if he was trying to scare or comfort you; he pet your hair, clinging to you tightly, kissing your face and neck along the lines of the tears soaking your skin.  
You felt his grin against your cheek when another wavering moan echoed in your chest, and he laid you back on the floor to hover over you again.  “Was that your third one, already?” he noticed.  “This is so much easier than I thought… you needed this so badly, you poor girl.”
A quick wave of panic settled over you when his hand wrapped around your neck.  “W-wait,” you pleaded instantly, as if you really feared he would just strangle you to death right then and there.  Your hands, still weak and tingly, reached up to his arm, and you felt his cock throb inside you— of course that was what he wanted, to see you react in fear again.  So many other emotions were at play right now, even some you didn’t know existed (like whatever the word would be for longing for the worst thing that’s ever happened to you, or feeling like the only person you can trust is the person hurting you the most), but fear was still going to rule it all as long as he had any say.
"How many times did you come before?" he demanded to know, nostrils flaring as he fucked you harder.  "Tell me how many times you came when he raped you."
"I— I don't—" you stammered.
"Say it," he ordered.
"I— I don't know!" you yelped, whimpers falling to silence as he tightened his grip on your neck. 
"You don't fucking know?" he snarled at you, watching you fight for air.  You clawed at his shirt, his wrist, tried to pry his fingers away, but he just sneered as he stared at your numbing face.  "You don't know how many times you creamed on your rapist's cock?  Bullshit."
"I—" you gasped when he let go of your throat, "I lost count…"
He went from livid to ecstatic in a second, laughing proudly and dipping down to kiss your neck passionately.  "Good girl," he mumbled against your skin, fucking you even faster.  "That's what you need to do for me now— come for me until you lose count."
“I— I can’t,” you choked, grabbing at his shoulders as he seemed to overwhelm you just by pressing his weight down on top of you.  “I’m sorry— you… you proved your point, I— I just need a break—”
Even though the drug he’d injected you with was wearing off, you realized you were just as limp and helpless as before… after all, some of the most powerful chemicals come inside the body.  You didn’t even fight it when he put his hand over your mouth, spitting out a quiet but hateful shut up and continuing with his quick and forceful thrusts into you.  
He kept you conscious and lucid by occasionally hitting or choking you, talking to you, once or twice even ordering you to kiss him.  Like you mean it, he’d said, slapping you as punishment for doing it wrong.  Truth be told, you hadn’t kissed anyone in so long that you’d really been trying your best the first time.  Sometimes he told you to beg him for more— or to beg him to get off of you— and yet he would usually punish you for speaking at all.  He was completely unpredictable, and you figured that was part of the plan: take away any shred of control you might try to get by making it impossible to follow his rules.  Keep you confused and crying, keep you fearful, keep you obedient.
But, he did seem to enjoy when you could only just choke out a broken please.  He laughed at you, pinching your sore clit in response until you sobbed and tried to jerk your hips away.  “‘Please’ what, honey?  You mean, ‘please keep fucking me, Doctor Crane, you’ll make me come again?’” he taunted.  “Something like that?”
“Please… please,” you swallowed around your whines, “please just… finish, and go…”
“Oh,” he purred, “you want me to come?”
You’d specifically not phrased it that way, but, yes, that was what you were asking for.  You weren’t sure what else he wanted from you now, it felt like he’d drained you of everything.
“You can just say that, baby— you wanna make me come?” he grinned, moving in closer for a kiss, but you turned your head away.  He grabbed your jaw again and stared at you with an angry glare.  “This isn’t about me.  This is what you wanted.  This is what you fucking wanted!”
As he screamed in your face, you sobbed and tried to look away again, but he hit you hard on the face and covered your mouth before the cry of agony could come out.  
“This is what you wanted, right?” he insisted again, forcing your head to nod with his clammy, iron-tight grip.  “Uh huh— and you wanna make me come, don’t you?  You understand now that’s all you’re good for.”
As sick as it was, you felt yourself fall into another orgasm when he said that; your eyes rolled back a bit, and for a moment you felt even hotter between your legs.
“I think, if you beg me to come, maybe I will,” he offered— bargaining with you, probably another way to trick you into clamoring for some control only to yank it away.  Unfortunately, you were in no position to turn down a deal.
“Please,” you blurted out the second he released your mouth from under his hand; when you blinked the tears from your eyes, you saw him clearly again and realized how completely different he looked from the arrogant-but-generally-unassuming man you knew from work.  His hair was fallen beside his face, and he was close enough that the ends were tickling your forehead.  His eyes were bloodshot, crazed, and dark.  His lips, always full and plush but usually in a tight frown or neutral look of condescending boredom, were curled around the teeth he bared at you.  He looked animalistic, for a man typically so measured.  Only he could do something so animalistic in a way that required such intellect, foresight, and contemplation— using his superhuman skills to treat you in a subhuman manner.  You realized that you were really seeing him for the first time— the person you’d known before was the mask.  This was something horribly freeing for him; and you were having a much easier time analyzing and thinking about him to distract from how sickly freeing this experience was becoming for you.  “Please, Jonathan—”
“Doctor Crane,” he corrected.  Apparently this wasn’t enough to put you on a first name basis…
“Doctor Crane,” you repeated, “please… come.  I want… I want you to come.”
“Hmm,” he considered, and you worried he’d decide he was unimpressed with your effort and hurt you again— but, he did maybe the only thing worse.  “Okay,” he agreed, “if it’s so important to you.”
Just when you shut your eyes tight and hoped you could just get through this— just hold on for a few more minutes at most and then this would be over and done with— he whispered in your ear that he needed you to keep your eyes open if he was going to finish.  
Though, when you obeyed, he purred at you and let his own eyes flutter shut for just a moment.  For once, he actually seemed affected by all this physically and not just psychosexually.  “I think I’ll come inside, like he did before,” Crane decided with a groan when he opened his eyes, biting his lip for a moment as he stared down at you.  “I didn’t see any birth control in your listed medications on chart… I guess we’ll find out if you have a fear of getting pregnant.”
"Jonathan— don't," you whimpered.  "Please, don't do that—"
"Shh," he soothed, petting the top of your head and laying his weight over you.  "Shh, it's alright.  I think you need to be filled with come… I think that might be the one thing that’ll get you to settle down, now just hold still.”
“I— please… please…” you began to beg again, but your words faded away as another wave of sensation washed over you— they started to blend together, like before, and you realized you were doing what he’d asked: you were losing count.
“Good girl,” he praised under his breath, “like that— fuck, I’m close.  Fuck!”
He held onto you tight— one hand on your thigh and the other on your neck as his thrusts sped to a desperately, impossibly fast pace.  You moaned— or cried, or yelled, or something— as he pushed just a little too deep and your toes curled in your heels.
“Uh huh,” he encouraged, “just one more while I come inside you— I think you can manage that, just one more good squeeze on my cock— oh, fuck, that’s it, yes, just like that…”
You stopped being able to understand what he was saying, but you heard the wavering groan that came a few moments later when his movements suddenly stopped.  He gasped and kept himself as far inside you as possible; you shuddered, blinking fresh tears out of your eyes, and felt paralyzed in an entirely new way as you laid under him, staring up at your ceiling, seeing how far the sun had set since it began— actually, it had started to rain, making it even more impossible to tell how much time had really passed.  Eventually, though, he took his head out from the crook of your neck and propped himself up enough to look down at you.  
Reaching to your coffee table, he fumbled his hand around until he found his glasses, and shakily put them back on.  “Well,” he grinned, still panting but seeming to be mostly back to himself (whoever that was).  “I never thought I’d meet someone who loves fear as much as I do.”
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cripple-woe · 2 years ago
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Back to post again. Please reblog this if you’re like. Disabled and do, might, are planning to ever have sex. Or just for educational reasons reblog it.
It’s time for:
DISABLED SEX EDUCATION.
So! Let’s get right into it.
We all know that we have a right to know and understand our bodies and how we can have safe, consenting, and pleasant sex. Most schools don’t teach disabled inclusive sex education!
Part One: Sex Toys
By and large, a bafflingly inaccessible market. But still, here’s what you can do.
For limited mobility and dexterity with hands and the like, larger controllers and wireless controllers for toys are good to look into.
If you have movement disorders, a toy that doesn’t need to be moved to stimulate can be helpful.
Also, a pretty universal one is a nice sexy vibrating pillow that you hump. It’s not talked about often because most abled people don’t want that toy when there are more penetrative or intense toys out there, but for cripples like us, it can be very helpful to know it exists, and it’s a good toy.
Part Two: Partner Communication
Whether this partner is your lifetime lover or just a one-night-stand, you need to be communicating properly about your needs and limits, just like abled people, but MORE. Communicate a safe word for if you feel in too much pain, communicate how your disabilities may affect sex with this partner if they aren’t aware, and communicate on the type and level of aftercare you may need. I know for a fact that I would need my partner to take me into the bathroom to pee after sex because I can’t do it of my own accord after that (also, speaking of, PEE AFTER SEX.)
No matter how small it is, communicate. “I’d be more comfortable if I had some pillows under my stomach/back/hips in this position.” “Can we switch positions, this is slightly painful on my hips/back/shoulders.” “I don’t like being pinned like this, because it’s a position I can’t escape from when I want to/it’s causing pressure on my joints/whatever else.”
Partner communication is a big deal with disabled sex and requires a decent level of trust. I also highly recommend that if you have access, being frank with your carers and occupational therapists for instance, will help you a lot with asking for advice in a safe way.
Part Three: Positioning
Ooh, sexy pose time!
From what I can find, these seem to be the most widely accessible poses for sex.
Modified Missionary.
The limited mobility partner sits on the edge of the bed, the other partner stands facing them, and then can lift their partners legs up so their ankles are on their shoulders. If the standing partner is too tall for this to be comfortable, you can place a chair behind them and have the sitting partner put their ankles there (add a blanket over the back of the chair for comfort on their ankles!)
This position is best used when only one person has a mobility issue. It’s also good for if one or both partners are obese, or if a partner is pregnant.
Facing position.
Aka: face to face. Person one sits in a chair, on the edge of the bed, or even in their wheelchair with arm rests removed if your chair can do that and you want to bang in your chair. Their partner sits on their lap and straddles them. Partner on top braces their feet on a solid surface to be able to move their hips and thrust, and the bottom partner can help by grabbing their partner by the backside and lifting/bouncing.
This position is good for two partners with limited mobility, and people who suffer with fatigue.
Intimate Sitting.
Basically the same as above but both partners are fully on the bed. The partner near the headboard can benefit from being held up with pillows, and then they stretch out their legs. The other partner straddles them, feet on the bed, and bends their knees to lower them down.
This is another position for a limited mobility and unlimited mobility couple, especially those looking for face to face intimacy.
Sexy Spooning.
Get into a spooning cuddle position and get freaky.
This is great for people with lower back pain, chronic pain, and arthritis.
Modified Doggystyle Chair.
Limited mobility person sits in a chair or wheelchair near the edge of the bed, their partner sits in their lap and leans forward to brace themselves on the edge of the bed with their upper body and arms.
Great for hip pain sufferers and of course those with mobility issues, though be aware that the person on the edge of the bed is taking more physical exertion.
Modified Doggystyle Bed.
Or the floor, if that’s more comfortable. Put some pillows on the bed/floor to support the bottom partner, and then the top partner drapes over them chest to back.
If you require more stability as the bottom partner this is for you.
69 Flipped.
One person laid on their side in the spooning position, and the other lays facing them in the same way, but with their head at the opposite end.
This is good for arthritis, or people who have weak hips or hips prone to muscle spasms. Also, unlike media might have you believe, 69 doesn’t have to be oral-oral. You can use toys, your hands, whatever, as long as you and your partner are having fun.
Final notes.
Don’t be afraid to explore each others bodies. Touch, massage, stroke each other and see how you feel. Places like necks, inner thighs, ears and sides can all be turn-on zones due to their extra sensitivity. Just… explore. Don’t try to take it too seriously either, sex is sexy, sure, but it’s also funny and sometimes you make a weird noise (verbally or otherwise!) and you can’t keep fucking for all the giggles you’re having.
Have fun, do it safely, remember that sex is cleaner with a packaged wiener, and PEE AFTER SEX FOR GODS SAKE.
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seanorpenmslmftinc · 4 months ago
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dfortrafalgar · 10 months ago
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Distraction
Portgas D. Ace x Fem!Reader
You and Ace intended to spend the day at the beach, but he can’t seem to be able to relax.
Warnings: modern au, so much smut. like so much smut. wet, sticky smut. 69-ing briefly. reader is also written to be on the chubbier side (im projecting <3) ace fucks you in the back of his car, basically. MINORS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED.
I woke up thinking about Ace today so I cranked this out in, like, an hour. It was a nice change of pace while I've been finishing up IMLY and the Luffy fic from my poll, which is almost done! (speaking of which, thank you for 200 followers <3)
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Ace hadn’t seen your swimsuit yet.  All he knew about it was that you purchased it recently on a shopping trip with a group of your friends, but it was currently concealed under a light t-shirt and denim shorts.  Throughout the drive to the shoreline, he was anxiously eyeing your bare thighs, his grip on the steering wheel of his station wagon turning his knuckles white.
��What’s got you so nervous over there?”  Your airly voice shook the freckled man out of his daze.  “Eyes on the road, hotshot.”
“It’s nothing,” he blurted, pouting and turning his attention back to the road.  Maybe he should have you sit in the backseat when your skin was exposed.
His own friends often joked that he was no better than a dog.  It wasn’t his fault that his sex drive was higher than cruising altitude… or maybe it was.  But he couldn’t help his wandering eyes when the soft skin of your plush thighs was exposed, or the way your deft hands fiddled with your cuticles as you stared out the window, sparkling eyes taking in the cloudless summer day as the backroads passed by on the drive to the beach.  Most of your evenings together were spent with either his head between your legs, your head between his legs, or your face smushed into a soft pillow while Ace desperately railed you from behind.
It was a good life, that’s for sure.
“It’s been so long since I’ve been to the beach,” you suddenly stated, turning your head to look at your flustered boyfriend.  “I’ve only ever been swimming in pools recently!”
“Yeah, me too,” he replied, his voice shaky.
Your eyebrows furrowed in concern.  “Ace, are you really alright?  Your face is kind of red.”  You reached your hand over to press your palm to his forehead.  “You don’t feel like you have a fever, do you?”
“Nah, I feel fine.  Honestly.  Just… thinking.”  One of his hands left the steering wheel to rub his sweating palm against the fabric of his swim trunks.  All he had on, other than the baggy trunks, was a white tank top that had a very unfortunate oil stain around the chest area.  He was sure his entire upper body was flushing red with the debauched thoughts that plagued his weary brain.  He hadn’t even seen your bathing suit yet and his mind was running in circles.  (He started to debate calling up that therapist that Sabo recommended.)
“Well, tell me if you really don’t feel good.  I don’t want you to force yourself to be out today just because of me,” you cooed, your voice soft and comforting.
He needed to tell you to stop talking.  Even the sound of your voice made butterflies swarm in his gut.
He might as well have been ovulating.
After what felt like an eternity, the trees surrounding the backroad route he had taken began to dissipate, replaced with the beautiful sight of the shoreline.  The ocean spanned outward as far as you could see, disappearing along the horizon and blending in with the bright blue sky.  A few small beach houses dotted the shore.
“You said this was a public beach, right?” you asked curiously.
Ace nodded, swallowing a thick glob of spit.  “Public, but very minimal.  There’s some private properties surrounding it so a lot of people assume the entire place is off-limits to locals, but there’s a small parking lot set back from the beach near a tiny bathroom shack-lookin’ thing.”
You grinned.  “Nice.”
“Do you not like public beaches?” he inquired, tossing you a side eye as he pulled further down the road, approaching the aforementioned parking lot.
“I don’t mind them,” you replied.  “But sometimes really busy beaches make me nervous.  Sometimes I don’t feel comfortable swimming when there’s too many people around… I get self-conscious in my bathing suits!”  Your statement was punctuated with a fluttering, nervous laugh as you involuntarily squeezed the skin of your thighs.
“Well, you don’t have to worry about that when I’m here,” Ace replied, flashing you a cheeky grin.
The parking lot seemed sparse.  It was entirely gravel with a few decrepit wooden fences separating where cars could park, some overgrown weeds poking through the impacted dirt here and there.  Sure enough, there was a brown, run-down bathroom shack between the beach and the parking lot.  During high tide, it almost seemed like the entire area would get flooded, but the gravel was drier than bone thanks to the beating sunlight.
You dug through your bag, removing a tube of sunblock.
“I thought you already put on sunscreen before we left,” Ace said, pulling into a spot and putting his beat-up station wagon in park.
“I did, I’m just putting some extra on my face,” you responded, uncapping the tube and squeezing some of the white gel onto your fingers.  You deftly rubbed the lotion onto your skin, across your cheeks and brow, down your nose, and down your neck.  
Ace needed to look away from you as your hands trailed down your neck and across your collarbones, ridding your hands of the excess lotion.  You weren’t provoking him on purpose, he knew that, but clearly his dick was taking charge of the day.
Little prick.
The two of you excitedly exited the car, grabbing your small umbrella and towels to find a nice spot to set up camp on the sand.  You were quick to lay down your towel when you found a spot, Ace digging a deep hole into the ground to mount the umbrella and provide a shelter from the beating sunlight.  Only a few other people were dotted around the beach, mostly older folk who were most certainly retired and enjoying their elderly days basking in the sunlight.  The thought made you smile.  You watched with glittering eyes as Ace pulled his tank top over his lean body, his muscular chest rippling with his movements, letting the cloth fall into his bag in a wrinkled heap.
“Oh, shit, forgot the cooler,” Ace mumbled suddenly.  “I’ll be right back.”  He swiftly turned tail and hiked through the sand back to his car.
You smiled, crawling under the umbrella and feeling the sand beneath the fabric shift below your knees.  You slid your denim shorts down your legs, shifting your weight to pull them off before folding them neatly and tucking them into your beach bag.  Your shirt followed, your hands hooking under the bottom hem and pulling it up over your head, repeating the process of folding it and storing it away.  Weirdly enough, you felt more comfortable on this beach than any other.  While some old folk liked to gab, the sparse population on this beach seemed more than willing to keep to themselves.  And there was no risk of creepy men your age or obnoxious teenagers to toss rogue comments about your body or shitty pick-up lines.
And you had Ace, of course, who would kiss the ground you walked on if you asked.  The thought made your stomach flutter with glee.
Back in the parking lot, Ace was quick to haul open his trunk and grab the small cooler they had packed with water, some sodas, and some light snacks, slinging it over his bare shoulder and slamming the door closed.  The hinges made a terrible squealing noise as the door moved.  He really needed to get that fixed.  He quickly jogged back to the shoreline with the cooler bag in his possession, his sandals making scuff marks in the gravel.
He almost died and came back to life when he saw you from behind.
Your clothes were off, your body hugged in a bikini that looked sculpted for you and only you.  The strawberry-print bodice was tied around your neck and below your shoulder blades with thin straps, the front of the suit being held together in the front with a metal ring between the bust.  Your plump breasts peeked over the seams slightly, making blood rush to Ace’s face.  The solid-colored bottoms squeezed your hips and ass perfectly, with one side open and held together with strings in an intricate criss-cross pattern.
Ace’s feet were moving on their own, his soul ascending from his body as he floated toward you.
You heard the rustle of his swim trunks from behind you as you approached, turning to look at him over your shoulder.  “Hey!  All set with the cooler?”
He plopped to his knees on his own towel, the cooler hitting the ground with a thud.  “Yeah, all set…”  His voice trailed off as if he wanted to say something else.
You gazed at him with confusion painting your features.
“You… you look…”  Ace could barely look at you.  “You look so fucking hot… oh my god.”
Suddenly, his demeanor in the car made much more sense.  The constant red flush painting his adorable freckled cheeks, his mouth in a perpetual tongue-tie, his lips pursing together tightly as he struggled to keep his composure.  Your lips pulled into a bright smile, relishing in the flustered behavior of your boyfriend.
“Aww, thank you, baby!” you cooed, moving closer to him.  Your hands trailed down his arm, ghosting over the tattoo on his bicep before teasingly falling to the cooler and unzipping the top, pulling an orange soda out of the bag.
“Please don’t tease me, I think I might explode,” Ace huffed.
You popped open the can with a satisfying click, taking a quick sip from the opening.  “You know… I don’t think anyone’s going to mess with our stuff if you want to go back to the car…”
Ace’s dark eyes darted toward you, assessing the mischievous expression on your face as you kept the cold soda can pressed against your mouth.  The metal was rapidly developing condensation thanks to the heat in the air, droplets of water dripping down the orange can and onto your fingers, plopping against your folded knees.
He carefully removed the soda from your hands, tucking it back into the cooler to make sure it didn’t spill, before standing up and hauling you to your feet, dragging you by your hand across the hot sand and back to the parking lot for a third time.  He ripped his car keys from the pocket of his swim trunks, shoving the metal key into the door lock to open the vehicle before leading you to the trunk and popping open the door.  You quickly clamored inside, him following behind you and closing the trunk from the inside.  He chucked his keys somewhere towards the front of the car.
He wasted absolutely no time in smashing his lips against yours, making you wince slightly at the feeling of his teeth hitting your own, but the way his long fingers expertly groped the skin of your breasts below your bikini top made you forget about the momentary discomfort.
After a few stifling moments, Ace pulled away and heaved into the skin of your neck, holding you down by your shoulders.
The best part about him owning an old, refurbished station wagon was the ample amount of room in the back, as well as the lack of center console between the two front seats.  It was a car built for fucking.
“Is this what you were thinking of on the ride over here?” you asked, a coy tone on your tongue.  “About what my new swimsuit would look like?”
Ace grumbled, a childish pout on his lips as one of his hot hands continued to rub patterns up and down your side.  Up to your breasts, his thumb ghosting over your concealed nipple, trailing down your waist and groping the plush flesh of your belly, down your thigh to squeeze your ass.  The way the strings on the exposed side of your bottom piece fit into your skin made his cock throb.
“You’re insatiable,” you giggled, your own hands leaving scorching patterns over his shoulders and arms.  “Are you ovulating?  You’re acting like me before my period.”
“Shush,” he grumbled, followed by another sweltering kiss, all tongue.  You felt a dribble of spit leave the corner of your mouth, sticking to the skin of your cheek.  His lips moved against yours, exchanging a blistering heat.  Ace always seemed to radiate warmth even on the coldest days, and his presence in this moment filled your body with a heated, lustful buzz.  Goosebumps rose on your skin when he pulled away from you leaving your front exposed, gently biting your puffy lower lip with his teeth.
“How worried are you about someone messing with our things on the beach?” he asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
You adjusted yourself slightly below him, his knees beside your hips caging you onto the floor of his trunk.  “Hmm… not too worried.”
“Perfect,” Ace replied swiftly, tugging his swim trunks down.  
He had such a nice cock, perfectly shaped with a cut tip that flushed a beautiful rosy hue.  A slight upward curve, lean and not too long, perfect.  He was either hard for the entire time you were setting up your small spot on the sand and you hadn’t noticed, or he was fighting with every fiber in his body to keep the erection at bay.  Whatever the circumstance, the fantasy of spontaneously fucking you in the trunk of his car in that sexy bikini of yours that he daydreamed about on the drive down was finally coming true.
Your hands made a move down to your hips to pull on the fabric of your bottoms before his fingers wrapped around your wrists, halting your movement.
“Sorry,” he uttered, his voice a soft whisper filled with a desperation you rarely saw from him.  “Your suit stays on.”
Your mouth morphed into a grin as he released you, leaning back up on his knees and idly stroking his cock with his right hand.  You parted your legs for him, making a show of smushing your breasts together under your tight top.  God, your suit could have been molded onto your body, it looked so good.
“Are you going to stay there and jerk off over me, or are you going to share some of the fun?” you asked deviously, one of your hands crawling below your bottoms and teasing your clit with the slick that had built up.  A pleasant, tingling flutter resonated in your belly and floated down your thighs, but nothing was better than the feeling of his fingers and cock doing the work for you.
“I want to do everything to you,” he muttered, releasing his dick from his slow ministrations.  “I don’t even know where to begin.”
You watched as it bobbed in the air, so hard it held itself out away from Ace’s toned stomach.  You involuntarily licked your lips at the sight.  “You’re so pretty…” you muttered.  You took it upon yourself to sit up, gently pushing against Ace’s shoulders to get him to sit on the trunk floor on his ass, leaning against him further to get the hint to lay down in the position you had just been in.
Neither of you had a strictly dominating or strictly submissive attitude.  Rather, you mutually shared the moment, taking charge when you wanted and snatching the lead away whenever you pleased.  This was one of those moments as you rotated your body on top of his, moving your ass closer to his face as one of your hands ghosted along his hip bone, your other arm supporting you and keeping you upright.
Ace got the hint almost immediately, his greedy hands groping and squeezing your ass as he pulled you downward to rest your clothed cunt against his mouth.  The hotness of his breath and the feeling of his lips against your weeping pussy concealed by the polyester made your breath hitch as your lips traveled closer and closer to the tip of his dick, watching hungrily as it seemed to pulse in the air, desperate for attention.
Your boyfriend made the first move, pulling you down by your hips and resting your cunt over his mouth, his tongue forcing its way between your folds through the suit and quickly finding your clit.  You gasped, your arm shaking somewhat as you quickly followed his lead, wasting no time in taking his cock into your hot, ready mouth.  
And goodness, did he taste good.  A familiar slightly salty musk partnered with the residual scent of his daily body spray, a vanilla and cedar flavor that always made your heart flutter in your chest.  His cock might as well have been burning as you hollowed out your lips and took him further down your mouth, loving the way the organ pulsed against your tongue.  
On the other end, Ace’s fingers had found their way into the fabric of your bathing suit, holding the barrier aside as two of his digits spread your natural slick over your cunt and lubricated his skin before he pressed them into your pussy, addicted to the way your muscles constricted around him.  Your entrance was always on the tighter side no matter how many times you fucked, and it was absolute heaven for him.  He turned the pads of his two fingers forward, pushing gently against the roof of your vagina where he knew you were acutely sensitive, and smirked to himself when your thighs clenched around his head.  Your movements over his cock momentarily stuttered at the feeling of his thumb connecting with your clit to simultaneously stroke the needy bud while passionately fingering your pussy.
He knew you too well.  He knew what you needed.  Ace wasn’t a selfish lover, he had learned your quirks and needs very early on in your relationship.  You loved your clit rubbed in somewhat slow circles, alternating between various pressures.  You responded to his fingers against your g-spot, and you loved when his dick curled upward into the same area.  Not too deep so as to hit your cervix, which hurt you quite a bit, but deep enough to reach those sensitive areas that had your legs shaking.
You learned quickly too, however.  Ace’s tip was the most sensitive part of him, his breaths growing shallow when you delicately sucked your lips around it and trailed your tongue along the slit, collecting the small amount of salty precum that emerged from the tip.  He loved it when you gently fondled his balls, rubbing the wrinkled skin between the pads of your fingers.  He adored the inside of his thighs being caressed, and you tried your best to do both with one hand as the other trembling appendage fought to support your weight as you continued to blow him.
You popped off of his cock momentarily, stroking the base with your hand.  “Did you have fruit recently?” you asked, turning your head somewhat to look over your shoulder.  Not like you could see much.
Ace paused his motions against your pussy.  “... Maybe.”
You grinned, the usually salty, bitter taste of his essence now replaced with something slightly sweeter.  You wanted to egg him on, to ask him if he had planned for this to happen and eaten some pineapple or citrus with his breakfast in preparation, but you decided to keep your inquiries to yourself and return to your task of sucking him off.
Ace was content to keep fingering you, his current position in between your thighs a bit too difficult to involve his tongue, but he knew he could please you regardless.  The circular movements of his calloused thumb against your throbbing clit had you sucking in sharp, lustful breaths through your nose, small whimpers leaving your throat and vibrating down his shaft making him bite his lip and stifle a wheeze.  Your thighs were quivering as he continued to curl his fingers into your g-spot, following the rhythm of your lips around his cock.
After some moments, however, you quickly scrambled off of him, your hand clutching around your stomach as you pivoted above him, capturing his lips in yours.  You ground your clothed cunt over his pulsing cock, keeping it locked between your pussy and his toned abdomen.
“Now who’s the desperate one?” he asked, teasingly, his signature boyish smirk traveling right back to your clit.
“I can’t help it, you’re contagious,” you huffed against the skin of his cheek.
Usually, the two of you used lube.  It didn’t matter how wet you got thanks to foreplay, the sensations were always heightened when there was no risk of chafing.  But clearly, you didn’t have that luxury today.  Nor did you have any condoms.  Instead, you bit down your thoughts, reserved yourself to spending 70 beri on the morning-after pill later that day, and hovered over his cock.  You pulled your swimsuit to the side and took his dick in your hands, wasting no time in slipping it through your folds that were thoroughly drenched thanks to Ace’s expert fingers.  
The first insertion always hurt somewhat.  A slight, red-hot throbbing pain that radiated through your pelvis, followed by a pleasant pressure as his cock slowly intruded into your tight muscle.  The groan that radiated from Ace’s throat made your pussy flutter.  
That was another thing you loved about him.  He was loud.
Maybe on a normal day you’d be worried about someone hearing you, or seeing the way his car shook with the force of your collective moments, but both of you had succumbed to desperation and couldn’t care less.  Traumatize the elderly beach goers who might happen to walk through the gravel parking lot to their own cars.
You sunk fully down onto Ace’s hips, his dick perfectly nestled inside your wet and willing pussy as his hands tightly gripped your hips through your suit bottoms.  You slowly rocked your hips, desperate for some extra friction against your clit.  It was much harder with the fabric covering you, but eventually you found a movement that felt just right.  Edging your hips slightly forward, you rolled your pelvis against his, dragging your clothed slit over the taught skin of his lower abdomen, moaning at the feeling of his dick pulsing within you.
Maybe you really didn’t have to worry about lube today.  Every motion against the walls of your vagina had you biting your lip and arching your back over him.
Ace’s hands assisted with bouncing you on his cock, his voice slowly increasing in volume as he watched you through half-lidded as your breasts jiggled with each movement, how the fat of your belly and thighs rippled so deliciously as you gyrated above him.  His voice was delectable, gruff and whiny, higher-pitched than usual with stuttering breaths and hitches in his throat that had your heart beating a mile a minute.
Your legs were growing tired, and Ace could tell.  He wordlessly beckoned you off of him, being quick to lean you over the back seats and move your suit to the side again, slipping his cock back in between your folds.  This angle always fit the both of you.  As much as Ace loved it when you rode him, taking you from behind came with many more benefits.  His free hand could travel down to dip beneath the cloth of your swimsuit and rub those delicious circles against your clit while simultaneously thrusting his desperate hips against your ass.  His chest pressed into your shoulder blades, his free hand supporting him against the back of the seats as you held onto the leather for dear life, whining with each motion of his cock against your inner walls and his calloused fingers against your clit.
It didn’t take long for you to unravel, the feeling of his rough finger pads against your desperate nub too much to bear.  Your orgasm approached slowly at first, filling your stomach with warmth, the insides of your eyelids flashing purple and indigo, before your body snapped and you were shuddering against Ace, moaning out loud as your pussy involuntarily clenched around his cock, your cunt feeling feather light as it fluttered.  The force of your orgasm caused you to gyrate your hips back against his, weak, airy moans escaping your tongue as the red-hot pleasure radiated through your entire body leaving your pussy buzzing with the aftershocks.
Ace was barely holding it together.  The force of your orgasm causing your pussy to clench around his cock had his arms weakening against the seat, his hips frantically rutting into you as sultry moans left his lips at the feeling of his cock burning inside you, begging for satisfaction.  His fingers never stopped rubbing your clit, caught up in what had essentially become second nature for him.  The overstimulation had you twitching around him, shallow breaths heaving from your lungs.  Ace’s pace increased as did the stuttering of his hips, his thrusts growing more shallow as his own orgasm approached.
“A-Ace… fuck, baby…” you whined, dropping your forehead against the back of the seat.  “You’re gonna make me cum again…”
The man was too caught up in the throes of pleasure.  Calling him desperate earlier was clearly an understatement.  A loud, throaty groan reverberated from his lips as his hips rapidly drilled into you, forcing you against the back of the seat.  His shallow breaths only helped to fuel your second orgasm that rocked you with a sudden wash of white light behind your eyes and you were shuddering against him again, your own moans filling the stifling air of the car.  
Ace barely had time to call out your name before he was thrusting disjointedly into you, crackled, weary moans leaving his lips as he came into your sore cunt, his hands pressing down onto your lower back to keep you still as he buried his cock into you, soaking you more than you already were.  You felt him pull out of you, your cunt fluttering around nothing as the sound of him falling backwards against the closed door of his trunk filled your ears.
Your own spent body dropped to the side, sitting on your hip and barely holding yourself up with one hand.  You slowly picked your head up, gazing at your boyfriend and assessing his condition.
Black hair mussed beyond belief, his freckled cheeks and shoulders flushed with a delicate red hue, his lips wet and swollen parted with the force of his labored breathing.  His eyes were closed, jaw slack as his pelvis continued to twitch from the force of his orgasm.  A few last drops of cum were bubbling from his tip, slowly dripping down his drenched dick that almost glistened, covered in your own fluids.  You felt wet between your legs.  It would have been a nice feeling if you weren’t already so stifling, your entire body feeling sticky.  You finally noticed the way the windows had fogged up.  You didn’t have time to think about carbon dioxide toxicity before Ace’s weary hand traveled up to the back window of his trunk door, blindly popping the window open a crack to let some fresh air flow into the car.  The summer heat felt oddly cool against your sweaty skin.
You slowly crawled closer to Ace, ignoring the way your drenched cunt sat uncomfortably inside your bathing suit.  You combed a damp strand of black hair off of his forehead before delicately pressing your lips against his cheek, encouraging him to finally open his eyes.
“You alright?” you asked, your voice low and quiet.
He finally smiled, his narrow, dark eyes filling your chest with warmth.  “I think my heart almost stopped.”
You giggled, running your sweaty hand up and down his skin.  “Should I wear bathing suits around you more often?  I don’t think you’ve ever fucked me like that.”
Your boyfriend’s humble laughter made you grin.  “For the sake of my health, you probably shouldn’t.”  He finally leaned forward to press a tender kiss against your wet lips.  “Though, if I were to die fucking you in a bikini, I’d die a very, very happy man.”
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kingkat12 · 3 months ago
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procrastination (roman godfrey x reader)
WARNINGS: FLUFF, biting, suggestive content, mentions of sex
summary: Roman knows exactly why you're up so late-- and now it's time to get you to admit it and go to bed
word count: 1,155
a/n: enjoy this oneshot i wrote at one a.m. yesterday to talk myself into going to sleep, and i hope it might work as efficiently for u as well<3333
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"You should go to bed,"
I turned away from my computer, staring back at Roman with an annoyed look in my eyes-- still, I was sure he would spot the heaviness of my lids instead, along with the way my lashes moved in slow strokes as I continued to battle sleep. "I can't. I have to finish this,"
"You don't have to do anything at all," he murmured, taking off his reading glasses as he put today's paper down in his lap-- I was glad he finally wore them after I had dragged him to the optician to get a prescription. "This is just yesterday's argument all over again."
I cocked a brow; "We're not arguing, though?"
"... You know what I mean,"
"We didn't exactly argue yesterday, either,"
Roman sighed, the yellow hues of a lamp nearby dipping into the golden brown of his hair. "Yeah, you're right," He placed the paper next to him on the couch, crossing his legs as he stared back at me. I wasn't sitting too far away as he had allowed me to use his home office today, and he was on the couch a little further away from the desk. I loved being in this room; it smelled like Roman. It looked like Roman. Everything from the minimalistic style of the interior to the whisky glasses scattered all around the room which he had forgotten to put coasters beneath. He continued; "We didn't argue, and I'm not going to argue with you now either. I'm simply saying that you don't have to get that stuff done right now."
"But--"
"It's not life or death, is it?" Roman shifted, uncrossing his legs as he moved to the edge of the couch. "How much work do you really think you can get done at one in the morning?"
I shrugged. Being put on the spot like this wasn't my favourite thing in the world. Realizing I had to get real with him to get my point across, I let my shoulders slump as I rolled the office chair an inch or two away from my previous spot near the desk. I had to do everything in my power to not start spinning around on it like I usually liked to do with chairs like these. "I don't want to sleep, though,"
Roman nodded, ready to attack the root of the problem; "Why?" he asked, voice soft and gentle. 
I wanted to shut down. Go quiet again and get back to work. Still, I had a feeling this was coming from genuine concern-- and when Roman Godfrey is concerned about your sleep schedule, you know something is off. "I've procrastinated all day," I mumbled, tapping my fingers against the table as I grew uncomfortable with the truth I had suppressed. "I'm procrastinating now. And if I don't make my mind busy with something, I will think about the fact that I haven't gotten anything done today."
Humming, Roman folded his arms over his chest as he listened. Had he not been my boyfriend, I could've mistaken him for my therapist. "You staying up any longer won't change that, though,"
"Yeah," I breathed, no longer meeting his gaze. "But at least I'm not rolling around in bed right now feeling guilty about it." My sentence ended with a sigh, and it didn't take long before I drove my elbows against the hard wood of the desk and buried my face in my hands. Just talking about sleeping made me further exhausted-- was this what he wanted to get out of this conversation? My next words were muffled against my palms; "You don't have to stay up with me, if that's what you're doing. You should get some sleep."
Roman remained quiet, nodding to himself as he kicked back on the couch and ended up in a casual manspread. He grabbed the paper beside him-- "I'll make myself busy with this crossword. By the time I'm done, I hope you've come to your senses,"
I peeked at him through my fingers, and I couldn't help the confusion coursing through my veins as I spotted him reaching for a pen. Was he actually going to do this? Roman Godfrey... doing a crossword puzzle? I must've opened a portal into an alternative universe with my whining. "Come to my senses about what?"
Roman shrugged, filling in his first word on the paper as he no longer met my gaze. "How much nicer it would be to roll around in bed with me instead of doing whatever it is you're doing on your computer,"
Oh. He had a point. I hated when he did that. "Doesn't sound like we'd be getting much sleep that way either,"
Roman chuckled softly, mostly to himself, and wrote down another vertical word across the puzzle. "Perv,"
"... Me?"
"Yes, you," He tsked, pulling his pen away to think about which word to go for next. "Rolling around in bed doesn't necessarily have to mean sex."
I cocked a brow-- "Roman, are you perhaps having a stroke? Everything usually means sex when you're the one talking,"
"Well, tonight I'm a new man," He smiled as he found the answer for a word going across, finally meeting my eyes as he finished filling in the empty slots. "What do you say about making out like we're sixteen and sexually repressed?"
I nearly choked on air. "That's specific,"
"I'm not denying that,"
"How is that different from just... making out like usual?"
Roman leaned his head against the back of the couch, staring up at the ceiling as he thought out loud; "I think it'd just be messier. So uncoordinated that we'd constantly be knocking teeth,"
It was impossible not to laugh-- "You want to knock teeth, Roman?"
He turned his head to me, his green eyes meeting mine with the loveliest of smiles. "Fuck yeah. I'll even bite you if we get that far,"
"... Christ," With a giggle, I shut my laptop. "Fine! I'll go to bed, but only if you promise to keep your teeth far away from mine."
Roman sucked in a sharp breath as he got up to approach me. He spun the chair to make me face him, and he leaned down far enough for his hot breath to graze my cheek; "Actually, I'll bite you right now if you don't get out of my chair, young lady,"
Oh, I loved this mood of his. "Your chair?"
"Yes. My chair," His classic smirk made an appearance as his eyes darkened; "And my girl." 
It didn't take long before Roman scooped me up, hoisting me over his shoulder as I yelped. Still, I knew there was no fighting him. If I did, I'd get another one of those bite marks on my thighs that would linger for days, and I couldn't go through that again. To be frank, I planned to wear more short skirts going forward-- I was visiting his actual office tomorrow, and I planned to make my visit one he'd remember for longer than I had ever had a bite mark lingering on my skin.
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bratphilia · 1 year ago
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exposure (w. afton x reader)
note: as promised, it's here. also fun fact i have ocd and exposure therapy is one way used in my treatment. so i turned it into porn. enjoy! i will most definitely write a second chapter
pairing: steve raglan / william afton x reader
tags: corrupt therapist!william, innocent virgin!reader, manipulation, oral sex (f receiving)
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your thoughts are interrupted as you hear a voice call your name. "hi," your therapist says, smiling kindly at you.
"hi steve." you return the smile and follow him to his office.
he opens the door for you and closes it behind him. you take a seat on the couch while he situates himself in the chair across from you. "so tell me, how are you doing? how are the meds working out?" 
"well, um," you start apprehensively. "that's kinda why i'm here to see you so soon. it's been a month and i don't think they're working."
steve gives you a faux look of concern, as if to say "oh no" and clicks his tongue. of course the meds aren't working. he handed you a low dosage of tylenol, a pain medicine, in an orange bottle without a label. any smart person would've found that suspicious — even more suspicious considering the fact that he's a therapist, not a psychiatrist. 
there's nothing wrong with you, either. you're just an innocent — rather dumb, in his opinion — girl with repressed sexual thoughts. thoughts he's been working his way up to helping you through them. 
"and the ache in your stomach is still there?" steve asks, just to make sure. 
you mumble an "mhm" embarrassed to look at him. he bites back a grin. "well, i have an idea."
you perk up at that. "ever heard of exposure therapy?" you shake your head 'no.' "it's a kind of therapeutic exercise that stresses the importance of facing the things that are giving you anxiety."
you stare at him blankly. of course you don't understand what he's saying. you're his dumb little girl, after all. 
"tell me, what are the symptoms you're having?" he asks. he wants you to say it — say that the root of your problems stem from overwhelming horniness, just as you've danced around saying in every session you've had with him.
you look down at your shoes. "well, uhm, there's this... tingle in my stomach. and the thoughts i'm having are... concerning to me. it's like i'm obsessed with..." 
you trail off and he raises an eyebrow. "...i guess what i'm trying to say is... i'm having really dirty thoughts. sometimes... they're about you.. or some men i see staring at me." 
steve tries his hardest to keep up the facade of a concerned therapist, but he can't deny how your words are going straight to his dick. "i see." 
"can you help me, steve?" you look at him with the most innocent, doe eyes he's ever seen. 
he cocks his head and smiles at you. "of course i can." he refrains from calling you 'sweet girl' — too unprofessional.
steve takes his spot on the couch next to you. he helps you situate your self so that you're leaning back. "can you spread your legs for me? you might want to take off your shoes for the sake of your own comfort."
your brows furrow and you do what he says hesitantly. you're wearing a cute, pastel blue sundress. when you bring your knees to your chest, spread just like he asked, he reaches to fold your dress over and reveals your white cotton panties. he could come in his pants from the sight alone.
you make a resistant noise when he reaches for your panties. "no one's ever touched me there..."
he already knows that. he can tell. but still, something about being the first one to break open that sweet cunt of yours fills him with even more desire. "i'll be gentle, okay?" he promises.
you nod your head and allow him to slide your panties down your legs, leaving them stretched near the bottom of your calves purposefully. it provides as a small restraint to you in case you squirm away from his touch. just as he expected, your pussy is red, swollen, and shiny with your slick. poor thing, he thinks.
steve brings a hand to run up and down your cunt, wanting to collect the slick gathered there. you moan and he feels you shiver. "th-that feels funny..."
"yeah?" he says before thumbing your clit. you let out a high pitched whine. his eyes move towards your face, fascinated with the way your eyes are fluttering.
"does that feel good?" he inquires, earning a "mhm" from you.
he picks up the tempo, rubbing the sensitive nub in circles with the rough pad of his thumb. you try to buck against his hand he brings his free arm to sling over your waist, halting your movements. "this won't work if you're moving like that. just let it happen, okay?"
"okay..." you murmur. it's easier said than done.
he stops rubbing at you. he has an even better idea. he leans down on his knees and kisses the spot his finger was just on. you let out a shocked "ah!" much to his dismay.
"gonna have to keep quiet or i'll stop," he says sternly. you promptly bring a hand to cover your mouth.
steve licks long, slow stripes up your cunt, flattening his tongue to cover as much as he can, gaging your reaction. your legs squirm but you can't move them much from the restraint the placement of your panties provide. he takes your bud into his mouth and suck at your clit, humming a little and shaking his head. you squeal against your palm and he pulls away, slapping your cunt.
"i told you to fucking stay quiet! you'll get us both in trouble," he scolds. it's a side of him you've never seen before. usually he's just so sweet to you. however, despite that, his tone sends a tingle in your tummy. you nod in obedience and allow him to continue.
he sticks his tongue inside you and it takes everything within you not to scream. he knows what he's doing too. the best part for him is watching you struggle. you wriggle around, desperately grasping at the firm fabric of the couch. he pulls his tongue out and kisses your clit once more.
"s-steve, i feel.. weird," you tell him, moving your hand for a moment.
"'s okay, just let it go. you'll feel better," he promises gently. his mouth encloses around your clit again and he slurps, flicking it rapidly with his tongue.
"ah, ah." you throw your head back and do what he says: release.
"mmm," he hums, lapping up what you give him.
"that was nice," you say once you catch your breath. "i really liked that. what kind of therapy is that called again?'
"exposure therapy," he lies. "how are the thoughts? are they still there?'
"no," you say in astonishment as you notice. "it's like my mind is all foggy right now? will it stay like that?"
"temporarily, we'll have to explore this some more at your next appointment. i'll make sure to bring something you can take home with you whenever those thoughts are disturbing you, alright?"
"alright."
next appointment. your heart soars. and the thoughts are back once more.
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Bloody Letters | Banda Sunato x GN!Reader
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Summary: Banda is in prision, you the only survivor of his killing are still being haunted by him in a simple way. Letters.
Warnings: Banda is a warning himself  - Toxic!Relationship - Traumatic!Reader - Obsessive!Banda - Mentions of Gore and Mutilation - Mentions of sex - Reader gets called Bird - MDNI - +18 -
 
The first one came after he was arrested. It was only one week and yet he seemed to be missing you.
"Hello my Bird, each day in here its a torture I cant endure without you. Do you remember that week when I could not go out because the police was near our home? We had such a great time. I dont remember a place where I did not fuck you nice and full. The house never smelled better, sex and blood...the memory of it makes me hard while I write this. Why dont you send me some of these pics I took during that time? It would help me so much.
With devotion, your Banda"
You had pucked after it, wishing that by ignoring him he would let you alone. But you knew better.
At court you were called to testify against him. And you did, the horrors you had survived were showed to you once more.  But you stood your ground. The most sickering thing was him. He looked proud of himslef after each relate of how he killed and dismemberment a victim was told, and when he looked at you. It was a look so confused, his eyes like an abyss of pure evil and possession.
You had to stay in your parents home after that day.
"My Dear Bird, you looked so stunning at court today. Are you eating well? I see you having lose some weight. But thats fine, we can work that up once im out of here.
I must say, I was quiet sad that you did not testify on my side. Didnt you say you loved me ? That we would be together till death ?
Maybe you forgot your place. Maybe your wings are growing again.
See you soon my bird"
"Bird.
Why are you not responding ? Do you know how hard its to get these letters out ?
Do you think you can go back to normal and escape me ? Im in your life now, I left part of me inside you multiple times. You cant just ignore that, or what ? Did you get a new partner? Bird no one would ever care for you like I did. We bathed together in the blood of that woman!! Do you remember ? You were crying so much and it was such a good thing to see..."
Each day you waited that they will stop coming. That whoever was allowing these letters out would have some compassion for you.
You could not sleep or eat. Each sound made you remember him and his tortures. The dark was once again your biggest fear, each shadow made you think it was him.
"My Dear Bird, sorry my last letters were too violent, I now see my mistake.
The therapist  here says I should learn to control my impulses, how would he react if I told him i already imagined him dead by my knife ? Do you think he would react at all ?
You know I havent see it in so long. I miss it. Remember who I used it to ambush you that night ? I accidentally cut you, that was a real accident. I did not get to enjoy the moment. All the other ones....oh I did. The moments we shared are engraved in my mind forever now. Much like how my name its on your skin.
You havent remove it have you? I put so much effort on it...it would be a shame if you removed it.
Well I guess i will have to do it again then. We can do it as a part of our reunion.
With care, Banda"
The wait for his sentence was long. One more time, you had to see him one more time and then he would be gone of your life forever.
"My Bird.
Can you believe we will be seeing each other again ? We will soon reunite!!
I hope you smile more this time. You know I always loved that smile of yours....
You can cry too. It did things to me when you cried.
Have I mention how I keep dreaming of you? Its a shame I cant shove my dick inside you like I used to. You made the most delicious noises, specially when you were not fully awake and then when you did notice what whats happening...
Im getting hard just by thinking of it..."
"For the crimes the accused Banda Sunato has commitmet he is sentenced to death penalty with no chance for a appeal" The judge said and you felt like the world was off from you. You fell on the court's chair your family and Friends crying and hugging you. The family of the dead victims crying too.
But him. He was not crying. He was smiling that sick smile of his. His eyes pointed at you like a predator seeing his prey. For the first time you held his gaze and you saw how he did a move to try and come to you but was soon stopped by some guards.
"My Little Bird...
You were so beautiful at court today as well. And with your family no less, I have wanted to meet them for sometime now. What does they think of our relationship? Does they like me ? Does your father aprove of me ? I hope your mom cocks just as well as you used to. I cant wait to sit all together and tell them all the fantastic times we had together.
Where should I start ? The first night? The first time I took you ? When you saw me murder another person ? Maybe when you cocked their flesh ?-"
"Stop stop" You said covering your ears as your father read the letter with more and more ferocity.
"I will kill him myself" He said almost throwing the letter when a part catched his eyes. He went pale as he read it.
"What is it?" Your mom asked as she hugged you.
"I- I dont think-"
"Please Dad...what is it?" You begged now
"Dear Bird, do you know they grant a final wish for these whos sentence is death ? Besides a meal we get one final wish. And my wish was to see you once more, just you and me alone in a room. I hope the  judge sees my love for you and gives me that final wish....I cant wait to smell you again-"
"No!!" Your mother screamed taking the letter from your father then throwing it. "He cant ask for it! I wont let them go, the judge wont- the judge wont aprove it" Your mother said between sobs.
But justice failed you and did grant Babda his final wish and even demanded that you must be present or pay a big amount of money.
The light blue room and too bright light was making your skin crawl back as you waited. You knew there were officers and your own parents behind the glass but that still did not ease your nerves.
Finally he came guided by another officer, he was chained, feet and hands. Once sat in front of you the guard made sure he could not move or reach you before leaving.
Banda smiled at you "Hello my Bird, did you get my letters ? You never wrote back" He asked a slight mocking tone on his side.
"I burned them. You are never going to hurt me again. You are dead Banda, after this you will be nothing" You said back trying to keep your voice steady and calm even if your fingers were thighten the edges of the chair.
This caused Banda' smile to slowly dissapear. His posture now tense, he was studying you. Like many times before.
"Do you really think this is the end? That I wont ever be part of you again? My Bird...we are mean to be together till the end. If its not by my hand then i can assure you. Fate will bring us together"
"You can go to hell Banda, and take that fate with you too. We are done" You got up giving him one last look before walking out of the room. Once outside you collapsed on your parents arms, the start of a panic attack coming.
"Its over Dear, its over"
~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○
Shibuya was always packed with people and while you were not really feeling that much need to go out, you knew you needed to take your life back.
The lights changed and you started to cross, lost in the music from your phone you failed to notice something from the sky...
Next thing you knew you were in the middle of the city but...it was empy. No noise, no cars, nothing. Fear went over your body as you checked your phone. Dead, no signal.
What...was this another episode ?
"Well, seems like fate does wants us together my Bird" The voice who owned your nightmares spooke from behind.
You turned and there he was, his smile back and blood dripping from his hand where now a knife stood.
"Oh dont look at me like that...you know I cant contain myself if you do" Banda said twisting the knife with expertise "five minutes, thats your head start"
Your heart fell as your legs started to tremble but you could not move. This was not possible. How could he be here...and where were the people ?
"Run little Bird, becuase once I catch you. You wont be moving for a long time..."
And so you ran knowing he never said these things without meaning them.
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Carol: We should all visit Ocean Side more often. Being at the beach was—
Daryl, Y/N, and Michonne: No!
Aaron: Okay, that’s it, you guys. What happened out there?
Daryl, sweating: Went for a walk. Nothin’ happened. Came back with nothin’ all over me.
Y/N: Smooth, Dixon.
Aaron: What does that even mean?
Carol: Come on, what happened? Y/N?
Y/N: Alright.
Daryl: Don’tcha dare, Y/N.
Y/N: Daryl and I had hardcore sex in the woods near the beach, but bugs kept biting us.
Michonne: And I walked by and saw it, it was horrifying. They were covered in bug bites, but it just didn't stop them. How can two people be so horny, that they don't even stop while being eaten alive by bugs?
Daryl: …
Y/N: Wait, you saw us?!
Michonne: Yep and this is a good time to remind everyone that finding a therapist in the apocalypse is next to impossible.
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marycorcaroli · 1 year ago
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RELATIONSHIP HEADCANON.
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characters: kenshi takahashi x reader x johnny cage.
words count: 1808.
warning: fem!reader in nsfw, but kinda gn!reader in sfw, fluff, pussy drunk kenshi, reader is blushing, threesome ♡, johnny lives for your boobs, kenshi loves kissing, big dick evergy for my boys, anal sex, crempie, vaginal sex, soft sex, kinda hard sex.
mary ♡: hi! i've been gone a long time, haven't i? i put quite a lot into this work and i started liking it from the beginning <3 i had a request for sex with johnny and kenshi but i decided to do it differently, hope you like it! english is not my first language, i apologize for the mistakes 💗💗💗
rules ; masterlist.
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SFW.
you three > world ! the most beautiful couple in the world ♡ funny johnny, supportive kenshi and wonderful you 💘
let's imagine a situation where johnny already liked kenshi but didn't know how to say it so he preferred to keep quiet. considering that they interact quite a lot johnny's liking started to increase and he didn't know how to keep it to himself anymore and bam ❗ there you were ❗ you ❗
you were so beautiful in their eyes and got along with everyone, which pleased them constantly. you often joked with johnny and often took care of kenshi by putting your hand on his lower back and guiding him to the right place, yes he could see perfectly well himself thanks to sento, but he felt better with you as his eyes.
kenshi started to feel the warmest feelings for you, considering how much you did for him and how kind you were around him, but at the same time johnny felt a little jealous, you were always together everywhere, and he followed you around, wanting to be closer.
if you were in a relationship with johnny and kenshi, it would be something between two paradise places, since they are both such passionate lovers for you alone. i think you won the lottery when they first expressed a desire to spend time with you, the three of you, in a motel.
imagine raiden's reaction when he sees the three of you and the way you go everywhere together— you broke the boy.
it makes no difference to johnny where to hug you and kiss you and all that, but as far as i'm concerned, kenshi prefers privacy more :( he wants all your angels and demons to be alone with you.
they want to keep you safe from all worlds and liu kang- that bitch will smirk as soon as he sees you.
kenshi is the least jealous type ! ! he knows how much you love and cherish him and wouldn't go for one-on-one fun with someone else, when johnny will tease anyone who comes near you or kenshi, he's like "yeah, that's my boyfriend/girlfriend, now disappear 🤗" SORRY.
they will support you wherever you are and however long it is, you don't have to be afraid to be active with them or have physical contact all the time, these boys are so in love with you that they won't let you think about anything bad for a second ;( they will do anything to make you feel better (find a therapist ✋).
none of them want to hurt you mentally or physically, because they wanted to tell you that they are in love for so long, but every time something prevented them, but now everything is fine ! ! 'cause you three are so cute 😩 😩
you are literally protected by two big demons in the guise of cute little angels who will cover you with their backs in case of any danger so that no one can see you.
kenshi is so loving, he comes up to you and gently hugs you from the back while kissing you on the shoulders and whispering about how happy he is to be with you in this peaceful environment, but then johnny shows up and literally sweeps you off your feet and onto the floor and you're like wtf?
johnny always wants you and kenshi to sit on his lap while you just look pretty and he looks at you with the most loving eyes while running his fingers over your cheeks.
they both cook fine for me, only johnny likes to experiment in the kitchen and i'm afraid he might burn down the kitchen, umm, teach him how to cook please.
kenshi's kisses are too sweet and cute, his kisses are like taking you to heaven and johnny's kisses are very playful when he pulls your lip away and smirks fiercely, either way they just want to kiss you as long as possible.
kenshi likes to sing gentle melodies for you and johnny that are so beautifully soothing after a hard day ! !
the thing that johnny wants the most after a hard day is for kenshi to hug him and kiss him on the temple ! you should totally get this 😩 !
i already said johnny is so playful, he will literally mock you by saying overly wimpy phrases, making you both blush and want to throw him in the gutter at the same time.
omg ! i can't imagine how good it would be to go to concerts with them ! it would literally be a blast, because these guys know no boundaries when it comes to fun, even the silent kenshi will be the funniest person in the world when you're around them.
i know for a fact that kenshi carries around a picture of you kissing his cheeks 🥺 my boy is too sweet, i can't stand it.
amm, bathing with them is so relaxing, you lay together and relax while your hands travel over each other's bodies.
johnny in your relationship will be in charge of movie days ! ! he will prepare everything in advance and make the place to watch as comfortable as possible.
kenshi is such a clean baby 💔 will help you always with the cleaning so it won't be so hard for you.
despite johnny's personality, he's gonna be take a very long time to create your first album together with all your photos and descriptions 💔 it will be your first anniversary gift !
if you want to spend the night doing something the boys will support you in everything ! ! as long as you don't get hurt in any way.
they will never fight with you or bring something to the point of a fight, why would they do that? they will explain everything in a calm voice and just as calmly listen to you, stability is to their liking.
NSFW.
they both work as a team and just want you to feel as good as you've ever felt before !
everyone already knows this, but these boys will get on their knees when you ask them to.
i think their favorite position is when you just look pretty and spread your legs for them, they don't need much 🤭
both johnny and kenshi are not the hardest dominants, they can be soft or they can obey you if you ask 😋
kenshi just loves to lick you in all kinds of ways, his tongue will rub your clit non stop until he is saturated with you = you won't escape. his inner demons awaken when your bedroom door closes and he gives in to his feelings completely without paying attention to anything else.
kenshi will spread your legs wider and wider to reach all the points you want, i can see new feelings playing in him and too much sweat dripping off his forehead from trying so hard to please you 💘
and johnny will be stroking kenshi's head and telling you how wonderful he is, because he's trying so hard to help you reach a euphoric orgasm, while johnny's fingers are tangled in kenshi's hair, his lips quickly find yours and he starts to literally suck you in, without giving you time to even breathe, then he will slowly descend and leave wet kisses on your shoulders, on your neck he will leave the most beautiful hickeys of all his love and he will definitely bite your ear ♡ ♡
johnny doesn't have the most favorite kinks, if he and you and kenshi like something, he will gladly make it a reality and diversify your sex, i think johnny is in charge of that, heheh.
kenshi will definitely kiss the two of you after licking you and oh god it will be soooo hot, his hands will caress your bodies while his lips are trying to kiss as much and as hard as possible.
ah, how much kenshi wants you to praise him during sex ! ! this little angel does his best for you and wants you to see it ! !
i think kenshi and johnny have pretty big dicks, but not the longest ones (otherwise they would break you) so they were not surprised at your startled look when you saw them but my princesses quickly reassured you that everything will be ok and they will be gentle ! !
their pace depends on their mood but I think they are always a bit fast because they can't get enough of you, but when they play the role of the sweetest lovers, the pace becomes gentle and smooth 💗
will never force you to do anything, they are still the sweetest boys in your life ! !
none of the boys will mind if you get on your knees for them and make them feel good, they will rather lose their head and any thoughts if you initiate 🦋 the butterflies in their stomachs will get hotter and hotter seeing you trying to take all of johnny's cock in your mouth and at the same time working your hand on kenshi's cock - they fall in love with you all over again.
they're so loud ! ! they will moan for you all the time and make all kinds of sobs so you know how good they feel around you and that they love what you do for them 🤭
the truest truth is that johnny literally cum when kenshi just kisses him, he just does it too wonderfully 🤧
they most likely have a few favorite positions.
first: when you're lying on jonny's chest and his fingers don't leave your mouth and his other hand is squeezing your breast and constantly touching your nipple while kenshi is thrusting into you and holding you tightly by the waist, trying to beat the hell out of you and make you see the brightest stars.
second pose: when you're on kenshi's chest and he's fucking your ass while johnny towers over you and makes your cunnie more and more swollen. their hands don't leave your body in an attempt to grab all the places, your moans get louder and your bodies bounce against each other more and more wetly. your head falls on kenshi's shoulder and he manages to finally kiss you after all this time.
and the third: when you're bouncing on their cocks one by one and your breasts are shaking so nicely, you're tired and your thighs are sore, but you don't expect it when kenshi gently pushes you onto johnny's chest and starts licking your ass (his favorite thing to do).
and johnny on the other hand loves sucking your tits more than anything and listening to the pathetic moans coming out of your mouth while your eyelids can't even lift from the pleasure and you just hope he lets you cum.
they both go crazy just thinking about cumming in you-the way their cum will come out of you and the way you'll look with it 🦋
after sex they will just collapse next to you (or on you) and try to catch their breath while kissing you on the forehead for a good job 💗 you will always be their best girl no matter what anyone says ! !
bringing you water or something to eat so they can go and swim together, showering you with the sweetest words and making you smile more and more.
but they also want you to tell them how much you love them and what good boys they are to you 💔 they will CHEER !
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transhuman-priestess · 1 year ago
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Sometimes the struggles we go through to be ourselves can be as rewarding as the end result.
A pretty breezy one here. Only content notes are surgery mention and needle mention. No gore to be found, no sex neither. Just good ol' fashioned yearning.
This is definitely a bit of a right angle to my usual stuff. There's no horror, it's light on dialogue, but its in a very similar space to a lot of the other stuff, just a different way of going at it.
Daughter of Elysium
I scheduled the surgery without telling my parents. They wouldn’t understand.
When I came out as trans they were supportive, in perhaps the slightly awkward way that cis people tend to be when they want to be accepting of things they don’t understand. This was different though.
I sat in the waiting room of the clinic in Montevideo, lined with faux wood paneling and sleek glass. Peak 2010s architecture. An older building, but the clinic’s reputation spoke for itself. There was no way I was going to get this procedure done in North America. Too expensive, too niche.
Too many hoops to jump through, too. Go see this doctor, talk to this therapist. Walk with these crutches. Practice with this fake charger for a year. Bullshit, all of it. I just wanted to be me.
So I saved money where I could. I slept in the heat of the Californian summers, kept the lights off early in the winter, rode the train to work, ate cheap meals, canceled all my subscriptions, lived in a 300 sq foot apartment in Watsonville.
3 years and $100,000 Californian Dollars later, I got on a train in Santa Cruz for a 3-day journey to Uruguay.
It was late June, a few days before the solstice. This far south of the equator that meant the sun rose late and set early. It was early morning, a quarter to 7, and 5 hours ahead of California time. I was used to being awake at night, but that only made the early sunrise more disorienting.
“Lewis, Kara,” a thrill of adrenaline rushed through me as the receptionist called my name. After reciting my birthday to confirm my identity, I was taken back to preop. I changed into a surgical gown and then lay down on a gurney while a nurse ran an IV to my arm and started saline. I thought about asking what happened once the arm was removed, but I figured it wasn’t worth the explanation.
For the next 10 minutes I stared at the clock. I hadn’t brought anyone with me. This was something to do for me, by myself. No partner, no friends. I had brought a bag with one change of clothes, my passport, and my phone. I thought about calling my friend Cory, but decided against it. No sense in getting anyone worried. As far as the outside world was concerned, I was on vacation.
I guess that wasn’t too far from the truth.
At 7 sharp, a couple of orderlies came in, checked my name and date of birth, and released the brakes on the gurney. They wheeled me out into the chilled hallway, and through the double doors into the operating room.
Inside the surgeon, the anesthesiologist, and several techs were waiting. A nurse placed a mask on my face and told me to count backwards from ten. A sweet, chemical smell filled my nostrils, and the world faded out.
* * *
It wasn’t the first time I’d had surgery, so the novelty of coming up from the anesthesia surprised me. Rather than the slow, heavy feeling I’d expected, it was like waking up from a nap. Disorienting, but in a cozy way. Nothing hurt. I hadn’t expected that. Probably the painkillers were still feeding in.
I tried to open my eyes, but my lids only twitched slightly. I heard one of the nurses say “You’re awake! The doctor will be in to see you soon. Everything went well, congratulations.”
I tried to reply, but my jaw moved jerkily and I had trouble forming words. The result was a disjointed grunt emerging from my mouth. But I could tell that I had a mouth, which was good.
The nurse left. I could hear his shoes squeaking off into the distance. As they faded, the thrum of the HVAC replaced it, and an occasional mechanical whirring near me. My eyes were still closed, and for the first time I noticed the green letters in the corner of my vision. Instinctively, I tried to look at them, but they moved with my eyes. After a time I was able to make them stay put long enough to look at them.
ARLINGTON ROBOTICS SYSTEMS
BANGOR, WASHINGTON, CASCADE REPUBLIC
I managed to open my eyes after a few minutes. At first it was all much too bright, everything blown to white, but after a few seconds my vision dimmed to a comfortable level. I focused on a tiny hole in the floating ceiling above. After a moment, I managed to zoom my vision in.
I marveled for a time at the detail in the ceiling. This mass-produced object, fiberglass and paper, contained so much beauty. How many times had I stared a ceiling like this without noticing?
The doctor came in and reaffirmed that everything had gone well. She told me that rehab would start in a few days, once my new body’s systems stabilized and adjusted to neural commands. I tried to smile but couldn’t manage to get my face to move right.
The doctor chuckled and plugged a display into a port on the back of my new neck. She held it up to me, and I watched as the words “What is this for?” appeared on it. She explained that until my vocal rehab started to kick in, this display would help me communicate.
She told me to raise my arms out to my sides. I struggled with this task for a moment before finally managing to do so. For the first time I got a look at the body I’d picked out from the inside.
Gray plating, seams that slid over each other, an unapologetically mechanical body. I’d wanted that. They’re getting good at synthetic skin these days, but I wanted to distance myself from humanity. There was nothing wrong with humanity, but it never spoke to me. I’d always been somewhat apart.
* * *
I slept most of that first day. The next day they let me eat. The bioprocessor seemed to be working, the staff said, but I should keep it light, and stick to carbs rather than fat and protein until the new tract could build up a sufficient biome to support those.
Odd as it sounds, it was 36 hours post-op before I realized I hadn’t peed. The charging station that I hooked into took care of filtration and detox of what little biomass I had left. I felt suddenly elated. I actually tried to get up out of bed, and promptly tripped over my own foot, smashing my face against a wall.
The nurses rushed in, worry on their faces, but I couldn’t stop laughing, and that’s when I heard my voice.
It wasn’t like my old voice. It wasn’t cold and computerized, but warm, and rich, like an old Roland Jupiter, full of dense harmonics, singing highs, and comforting, enveloping lows.
Soon I was sitting on the floor, sobbing. My eyes didn’t water anymore, but I still went through the motions. I held my gray plastic hands to my face, and touched them to my cheeks. I felt the subtle vibrations as motors moved my eyes around. I had never felt so happy, so myself. So real.
* * *
After a week I was able to clumsily walk around the hospital room, and they moved me to the recovery house. I met a few other converts there. There was a girl named Morgan from Seattle, a guy named Case from Kansas City, a few others. I mostly kept to myself.
I started speech therapy shortly after the move. Lots of reading convoluted sentences, but also singing, reading poetry, even some play-acting. I grew to love my voice. It was obviously synthetic, but that only made it feel more like a part of me.
Motor therapy was interesting. They asked me if I played any instruments. I told them I played bass. The therapist walked to a closet and returned with a bass made entirely out of carbon fiber. I asked why they made it from that, the therapist told me I’d see shortly, and handed me the Bass.
I immediately gripped the neck with far more force than I’d intended, denting the frets and the strings. I said I understood now.
Time flew. The solstice came and went, and by August I could speak clearly, play “Highway Star,” and wash my own chassis without damaging it. I could dress myself. I could walk without tripping over my feet.
On an evening in early August, I bade farewell to my fellow converts at the recovery house, and made my way to the train station. I could have taken a cab, or the bus, but I opted to walk. It was 8 miles and took all night, but I enjoyed every moment of it. Never tiring, stopping for food to recharge myself here and there at convenience stores and night markets.
I settled into my roomette for the trip back to Santa Cruz, looking out at Montevideo Bay. I saw my reflection in the window of my train, and for the first time, really took it in, with eyes that were my own.
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PNW Sex Therapy Collective PLLC shares a collective vision of sexual health and holistic wellness. We commit ourselves to helping clients foster positive change from the individual to the systematic level. Our clinicians are holistically oriented and extensively trained. They teach classes at universities, train medical practices, and provide mentorship and supervision for therapists aiming to get their own sex therapy certification. We believe that self-awareness and growth can come from passion, pleasure, and intimacy. Call us at (425) 243–4723 for more information about Best Couples Counselor in Seattle or visit our website.
PNW Sex Therapy Collective PLLC 1200 Westlake Ave. N. #407, Seattle, WA 98109 (425) 243–4723
My Official Website: https://www.pnwsextherapycollective.com/
Our Other Links:
Sex Therapist Bellevue: https://www.pnwsextherapycollective.com/bellevue-sex-therapists/ Marriage Counseling Bellevue: https://www.pnwsextherapycollective.com/bellevue-marriage-therapists/
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seanorpenmslmftinc · 1 year ago
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Sean Orpen MS LMFT Inc. is a trusted Seattle Couples Counselor. As a seasoned Seattle couples counselor, my practice is rooted in the belief that every stage of a relationship offers new opportunities for growth. With expertise in diverse relational issues, from communication breakdowns to the complexities of sexual intimacy, my therapeutic process is designed to adapt to your evolving needs.
Sean Orpen MS LMFT Inc. 1200 Westlake Ave. N. #407, Seattle, WA 98109 (360) 529–0862
My Official Website : https://www.orpentherapy.com/ Google Plus Listing : https://www.google.com/maps?cid=12727529731991012456
Our Other Links:
Sex Therapist Seattle: https://www.orpentherapy.com/sex-therapy-in-seattle
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Sex Therapy Couples Therapy Best Couples Counseling Marriage Therapy Relationship Therapy
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batmanisagatewaydrug · 4 months ago
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this is an unsettling one, and i understand if you don't want to answer it or don't feel equipped to.
i had a bad year-long porn addiction (a real "neglect friends/sleep/food" one) that culminated in me compulsively and repeatedly making and getting off to AI porn of a woman i know in real life. i know this was horribly fucked up—even though i didn't save it or post it anywhere, it still suggests some highly problematic and misogynistic things about me as a person. i feel i did some real damage to my psyche by repeatedly doing this, and i want to improve and heal myself by addressing the underlying issues with the help of a sex therapist.
do you think this is worth talking to a sex therapist about, or is this one of those things that's so fucked up that i just have to deal with this on my own? even though the sex therapists in my area are near-exclusively women, is it safe to assume that they would mostly be too disgusted by what i did to discuss it in a therapeutic setting? realistically speaking how badly have i screwed myself over?
hi anon,
I'm not a cop, so I'm generally not of the opinion that anyone is too fucked up to deserve help if they want it. this is exactly the kind of thing a sex therapist would be awesome at helping you work on, and it's great that it sounds like you have multiple to pick from in your area to find a good fit. I'm unsure if you're familiar with the function of a therapist, but their role is generally to provide you with the assistance and tools you need regardless of whatever personal feelings they have about your personal life! so don't let that discourage you if you want to seek out therapeutic help.
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