#who knows what my doctor will say or what my therapist will want to do
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I promise this is just coming from someone who wants to learn, and I apologize if it sounds hateful or rude for what I'm about to ask that is not what I want at all,
but when it comes to systems, DID, plurality, from what I have heard, it is something extremely extremely rare, and something that most people under the age of 25 the body isn't even supposed to like "reveal" until older. I'm just confused and I would really like to hear from someone who actually is plural and not just from like Google
is being a system, DID, and plurality even the same? And the only plural people I have met irl have like 25,000+ alters of dsmp characters (I ofc know not everyone who is plural isnt just fictive and it's all different)
just a very confused person who isn't plural and I would really like to learn and be educated !! I would really like to understand more and hate unreasonably for something I don't understand
hello there!
you can be plural without having DID. there's not really much else to it. DID is one form of plurality. it's not the end all be all of plurality. there are even other dissociative disorders like OSDD that get cast by the wayside when people adopt this kind of mentality. there's so much more to plurality than DID. also, there is no set age at which the symptoms at DID become apparent on the outside. i've been having dissociative symptoms since i was a kid. my alters were active and present even as a teenager!
relying on medical statistics alone for DID is a bad idea because most professionals who are capable of diagnosing someone with a mental health condition don't even know what dissociative disorders are or what they entail. my own therapist has known that I have DID the entire time i've known her, but she has told me that currently, she can't help me with it, because she has not received training for it. dissociative disorders are nowhere near as rare as we think they are, one has to consider that a number even as low as 1% - 2% of the global population is an absolutely massive number of people!
saying that DID is "extremely rare" in this case in order to discredit non dissociative plurals is an appeal to authority. it's appealing to the medical industry who refuses to take it seriously in the first place. the amount of professionals i've had who pointed out that i have dissociative disorders vs. the ones who never commented on it at all is pretty staggering. this is due to a lack of proper research due to lack of funding, not because DID is genuinely that rare. the reason there isn't more research into plurality in general is because of a lack of funding. medical studies and organizations require funding. if they don't see money in it, they won't do it.
DID is still a heavily stigmatized condition. things haven't gotten much better since it was renamed from Multiple Personality Disorder. people with dissociative disorders are still treated like shit in medical settings, so to me, it makes no sense at all whatsoever to pit dissociatives against other plurals because no one takes ANY of us seriously, it's not non-dissociative plurals' faults that we're not taken seriously. it's the medical industry. there are no medications to push for DID. DID does not respond to medication. this already makes a lot of doctors not want to interact with it at all, because there's no commissions for medications prescribed.
"And the only plural people I have met irl have like 25,000+ alters of dsmp characters."
i'm pointing this out gently, i don't think you're a bad person, but this is sooooo mean, please don't be that mean and judgmental about other people, plural or not. please consider how those people would feel if they heard you talking about them like that. even if you don't view them as plural, you shouldn't think it's okay to discredit their lived experience. what are you getting out of phrasing it like that? even if that person turns out to not be plural, please do not judge other people based off of things like this. you don't live inside of their head. you don't know what's going on in there.
i'm not entirely sure why people think this way about introjects and fictives, but they're an extremely normal part of the plural experience! one of the most well known DID systems of all time, Truddi Chase and The Troops, had not only fictional alters (Elvira) but also factual ones as well (Mean Joe Green). this is not new, nor is it isolated to non dissociative plurals. introjects and fictives are extremely normal. it doesn't mean someone is faking just because they've introjected someone, or someones.
hope that helps, in general, please understand that the only lived experience that you are the arbiter of is your own and you cannot tell someone else what they're experiencing, no matter what. plurality will look different for every person, system and so on that experiences it! the sooner you accept that the easier your own life will become. it's not hurting you for someone to have headmates that you don't like. that's their business, not yours, and that's actually a very freeing thing!
great addition from the tags:
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tw // ed talk // unfiltered
idk how but I somehow landed on ed blr a few weeks ago (which is one of the reasons why I’ve been avoiding this app and people like the plague lately) but um yeah, it unknowingly triggered something in me that I’m starting to notice (I think accept might be a better word?) I don’t like being vulnerable and I don’t like sharing personal info about me but I guess I need to get my feelings and thoughts out somewhere if I wanna try and move forward. I had a really bad ed years ago, to the point where I fainted in public and was diagnosed with severe malnutrition due to my ed. I went to an inpatient program for a few weeks and keep up with a therapist regularly. I can admit, I’m currently the heaviest weight I’ve ever been, but I never really saw it as bad because even though I’m the heaviest I was also the happiest? I was unapologetically eating what I wanted when I wanted. Enjoying brunch with friends every weekend and enjoying date nights with desserts with my partner regularly. I was happy, it didn’t matter that I had gained this weight. But idk..seeing people’s thinspo and weight catalogs really triggered me into realizing how much I hate my body and I much I missed my body when I weighed 90 lbs. I’ve been doing my old tricks without me realizing (that sounds stupid-I guess I should say I’ve been doing my old tricks without really thinking about it) I’ve been skipping meals, sleeping a lot more (like as much as a possibly can cause how can I be hungry if I’m asleep) and smoking a lot lot lot more. it didn’t really occur to me how bad it was getting until I started panicking thinking about what I would eat and how I’m gonna handle Christmas with all of my family. they know my tricks, they know what I did to hide food and etc. this thought made me stop and realize what I’m doing, and I thought about what I eat lately. and really noticed how I eat once a day most days and I don’t even finish the plate, I completely fast sometimes, I only have liquids sometimes, and even though I eat dinner in front of people sometimes i convince myself that I’m sick with food poisoning to throw it all up. I don’t really know where to go from here, I leave this week to spend Christmas and new years to be with my mom, and I’m hoping that’s going to help me. I don’t talk to my therapist again until the new year, and I also see my doctor in the new year too, which I’m nervous about. my doctor is aware of my problems, he even makes me turn away from the scale when he weighs me, and idk if he’ll notice that I’ve been messing up. He’ll tell my therapist, and she’ll tell my mom (even though I’m an adult-because of all these mental health problems she gets to make all the decisions for me if they deem me not in the right state of mind) this is just…..so much going on. I’ve pushed everyone away from me, and I’m sorry. I’ve seen messages, and I’m sorry I never replied, I’m just, struggling rn. I’m hoping with me being home and seeing a doctor soon will help me get a better grip at what I can do moving forward. sorry, I really needed to scream into the void about this, pls ignore me.
tldr :
#ignore me#im screaming into the void pls#TW ED TALK#yeah#I’m sorry#I know I’ve been mia#and I haven’t responded to messages#and I’ve put distance between myself and everything#but#I don’t mean to#it’s been a lot on my end#and I’m just tired#from the bottom of my heart I’m just exhausted and I find myself just existing instead of living#I’m trying#but I promise I’m not ignoring you#on purpose#I’m just ashamed I guess#but I’m trying to get better#I want to#I’m just at the stage where I need to figure out what works for me#I’ll still be gone for a while#who knows what my doctor will say or what my therapist will want to do#so happy holidays#stay safe and take care of yourself#hopefully the next update from me will be a good one
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As a late diagnosed autist I will say one of the most damaging but transformative experiences I've ever had was being misdiagnosed with BPD.
Everyday my heart goes out to people with BPD.
The amount of stigma and silencing they face is astonishing and sickening.
I took DBT for years. Therapists use to turn me away because of my diagnosis.
I would be having full blown autistic meltdowns, crying for help literally - but because I was labeled as BPD ANY time I cried I was treated as manipulative and unstable.
As if the only reason I could be crying was if I was out to trick someone.
95% of the books out there with Borderline in the title are named shit like 'How to get away from a person with Borderline', 'How to stop walking on eggshells (with a person who has BPD)'
I was never allowed to feel true pain or panic or need.
That was 'attention seeking behavior', not me asking for help when a disability was literally inhibiting my ability to process emotions.
There were dozens of times where I had a full meltdown and was either threatened with institutionalization or told I was doing it for attention.
My failing relationships weren't due to a communication issue, or the inability to read social cues. No, because I was labeled borderline, my unstable relationships were my fault. Me beggong nuerotypicals to just be honest and blunt with what they meant was me pestering them for validation.
Borderline patients can't win.
And the funny thing is - I asked my therapist about autism. I told her I thought I was on the spectrum.
BPD is WILDLY misdiagnosed with those with autism and I had many clear signs.
Instead - she told me 'If you were autistic we wouldn't be able to have this conversation'. She made me go through a list of autistic traits made clearly for children, citing how I didn't fit each one.
And then she told me that me identifying with the autism community was the BPD making me search for identity to be accepted - and that I wasn't autistic, just desperate to fit in somewhere.
I didn't get diagnosed for another ten years. For ten years I avoided the autism community - feeling as if I were just a broken person who wanted to steal from people who 'really needed it'.
Because of my providers - I began to doubt my identity MORE, not less.
Ten years of thinking I was borderline and being emotionally neglected and demonized by a system meant to help me.
To this day, I still don't trust neurotypicals. Not fully.
I know I'm not borderline now - but my heart aches for them. Not for the usual stuff. But for the stigma. And the asshole doctors. And the dismissiveness and threatening and the idea of institutionalization hanging over their head.
I love Borderline people. I always will. I'm not Borderline but if you are I love you and I'm sorry.
You're not a bad person. You're not a therapists worst nightmare, you are a human with valid feelings and fears.
Borderline people I'm sorry.
#autism#bpd#borderline personality disorder#actually autistic#neurodivergent#neurodivergency#neurodiversity#cluster b
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ok sry last one. sry
#its like i know im unwell but when i go to talk to ppl abt it i just cant#it never phrases right i never actually am able to articulate how I feel because i dont really know i guess. and it feels like the words i#use r judt sort of. borrowed? i dont say things how i feel bc i dont know how i feel i say like. i say things how i think a person would say#them. and sometimes its nott acurate but i dont have anything in my toolbox thats closer#does that make sense. snd i also like. ontop of base communication issue#i dont like being honest. thats not rly it. i want to be homest bc i want help#but when i talk to a therapist im bad at telling the full like. how do explain#im bad at being like..how i actually am bc i edit mysel#and sometimes i edit tooheabily an i leave out entire bits of like. tje context i guess#which is bad im supposed to give full context but it makes me feel ill to not tell ppl what they want to hear#and obviously a therapist doesnt Want to hear anything theyre judtdoing their job#but i cant r fullt honest snd the idsue is ill focus too much on one aspect eith the therapist#snd then they think thats the only thing and then i bring in a nother thing and they like. ots too much theres not enough time to talk abt#everything bc i ramble#i dont know. i eish i knew how to properly seek help#i need to get a pcp too. i need it for the blood marrow thing they said i need apcp bc of the fainting thing#its judt bsd luck. i just happene to hsve a fainting spell a couple days b4 the call#it doesnt rly mstter. i dont faint often its like every 2 months maybr. and its always my fault#i dont know what it was last time i think i was just overstimulated and maybe hungry#and that time at work was um. hunger anyways#and most times b4 that it was hot showers or baths or blood or whatever. it doesnt matter#and of it is a deepseated issue and ill die from it..idk. i dont want 2 get it checked out bc then ill habe to.pay.to.get it fixed#and i dont hsve a job which means my family will have to apy to get it fied and who cares#its probably just a blood pressure things and the doctors would just. idk. not getting into it#i just dont think it matters i guess. if i die i die and then its not my fault yk NFNFJG#and i wont die its judt lightheadedness and somrtimes fainting. and i can get on the ground usually
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Unreachable
Wandering mind, full of creation
Meandering lines, lost in elation
Each stroke, I broke a little inside
Each fate, I hate. My will defied
I painted this in Feb 2022 about what it's like to be an artist with repetitive strain injury. In 2008, When I was 18, I made my first comic titled 1000 Words, it was about an artist helping a little girl with a broken family similar to my own. It received such positive feedback that I changed my Environmental Science major at UCBerkeley to Art major. Ever since then, my goal has been to tell stories with my art. Stories that are important to me. My next comic, Knite, was about a boy who wants to put the stars back into the polluted skies of China, my homeland. The comic after that, Fisheye Placebo, is a cyberpunk story about living in the age of technology, about fighting censorship and propaganda.
Unfortunately, I never got to finish Knite nor Fisheye Placebo. By the time I was 24, I was drawing day and night with no regards to my health. Not only did I get repetitive strain injury in my drawing hand, but my entire health suffered. My roommates had to rush me to the ER after fainting one night. I remember looking at my swollen right hand, my fingers like sausages, not even able to hold a pen, and just cry.
I've gone to the doctors and physical therapists. One told me I have Lupus (I do not), and another told me to put ice on it. More recently, I met a friend who happens to an amazing physical therapist and he was able to help me regain a lot of use of my hand. At my worst, I could only draw an hour a week, but now I am able to draw 2 hours a day. My hand is unlikely to fully heal, but I'm so grateful to regain what I have.
To my fellow artists who suffers the same, please know you're not alone. I can't promise that it'll get better, and it's cliche to say don't give up, but I want to keep hoping that no matter what the world throws at us, we will continue to make art.
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ton of shit i need to do and i'm just
#Cade.vnt#why bother trying to go to the doctor to get anything checked out when I already know what'll happen.#they'll look at me n ignore everything i say just to tell me its cus im fat and thats it n kick me out#like i wasted their time.#I need to go find a therapist n look into getting professionally diagnosed w autism but god do i just#not want to bother jumping through all their hoops to try n get them to listen to me and hear what i have to say#its already impossible to even find a therapist who will take my insurance. its impossible to even get any of them#to fucking call me back. i am trying so hard to fucking find help for anything from anyone n none of these people give a single shit about#me#family keep telling me to just keep trying! its what i have to do i just have to keep trying and keep going but i am so fucking tired of#everything anymore. trying to get disability n i hate having to try n get these people to listen to me or understand#feel like my body is falling apart more n more lately and jst feels wrong but i dont eant to bother with the doctors anymore#and on top of it all i feel fucking disgustred with myself that i m like this and that i am complaining and crying over this shit#when theres people who have it so much fucking worse#im pathetic and stupid and useless.
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I got added to a book group and I’m not sure why, like I struggle so badly with reading it’s not funny. Maybe it’s cause I write but like even then it’s not original shit it’s just piggybacking on other stuff and I haven’t posted any of it in ages
#I’m confused#like I like feeling included and shit but like also I don’t understand what possessed them to add me#I kinda wonder if it was their our friend and we don’t want to keep secrets sorta thing#which is nice and all but like I’m totally okay with not being in it#also it’s some people I’ve never talked to so like it’s exhausting enough having met a new online friend this week much less three#idk i might lurk but I honestly am confused by the social interaction#also I typed she for myself and I wanted to throw my phone#it’s cause they don’t know I’m nb and I’m not sure they’d understand#also I find it so much easier to get along with guys than girls so like there’s that#and the more I think about this paired with the videos on autism I was watching today the more it seems likely#I just still hesitate to self diagnose because of past experiences self diagnosing with depression and anxiety#like I was literally told if it’s not by a doctor it’s not valid by my then best friend#just for the bitch years latter to come to me and say I understand what you meant about the depression#my best friend now tho when I brought up the possibility of autism was like yeah I can see it#although her adhd ass still gets annoyed when I’m too low energy to even socialize with her#I really need to find a therapist but first a doctor because I’m about to run out of meds#like technically a psychiatrist would be able to do that too but it was originally my doctor who did so that’s going to be less painful#that is if I can figure that shit out#all I know is it won’t before my meds run out
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the boy is mine | jonathan crane
masterlist
yeah so i wrote this in literally record timing because the music video to the boy is mine is so jonathan crane and his girl coded. i'd like to think i'm keeping u guys fed with all my fics i hope u like !!!
summary: you’re set on doing anything to make that boy yours, and the plan you curated is absolutely purrrfect.
word count: 4.3k
warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, p in v, oral (f!receiving), bondage/tying up, rough sex, overstimulation, creampie, stalking, obsessive behaviour, therapist/patient relationship at one point lol
“perfect.” you whisper to yourself as you poured the last drop of the glittery, pink liquid into the small vile, swirling it around as you popped a cork into the top.
you smiled proudly as you sat on the kitchen floor of your apartment, holding up the vile to get a good look at it under the moonlight. it was fool proof — he’d for sure be yours after you forced him to drink this.
some would say you were a little unhinged, but you preferred the term creative. you were a little obsessed with your old therapist, doctor jonathan crane. you started seeing him when you stumbled across his pictures online, and you knew you had to have him. you booked your first session with him roughly nine months ago, and he was there for you every step of the way.
you didn’t actually need therapy (well…), but you still booked sessions with him because he was yours. it was meant to be. you couldn't unsee it. during your first ever session with him, you made sure to put on your cutest, most feminine and dainty mini dress, paired with some matching high heels. you even did your hair and makeup with precision. jonathan didn’t show it on his face, but when you sat there in that leather chair across from him for the first time, his heart started to beat a million miles a minute.
you were jaw-dropping. he couldn’t believe someone could actually possess such beauty, and though he tried to stay professional, it was proving to be quite difficult. every time you spoke, every time you smiled at him, every time you did absolutely anything — he would become more and more infatuated with you.
“i just wish he didn’t leave me, you know?” you say softly, feigning innocence, “it’s been so hard without a man to take care of me.”
jonathan clenched his jaw silently, he couldn’t believe that a man would be stupid enough to break-up with someone like you. be professional, he reminded himself.
“understandably so,” he said clinically, “i can only imagine how difficult it would be to have a relationship like that end so abruptly.”
“it was so difficult,” you say, your eyes watering, “but, i think i’m slowly starting to move on.”
of course, such "ex-boyfriend" did not exist. this was all part of your elaborate act to make him think you were an innocent, naive girl who was heartbroken and needed someone to save her. that someone being him, of course.
he was made for somebody like you.
you only had seven sessions between the two of you before jonathan abruptly reassigned you to his colleague, doctor webber. she wasn’t anything like doctor crane — she didn’t understand you the way that he did.
good things come to those who wait, but patience wasn’t your thing.
“i’m sorry,” jonathan doctor crane said to you, “as much as i want to continue to be there for you and your journey of growth, i believe that my colleague would be better suited to your…needs.”
“what are you talking about, doctor crane?” you asked, trying to to hide the desperation in your voice.
“i have another patient i must attend to,” he says flatly, informing you that your session had come to an end, “but i wish you all the best.”
and with that, he sent you to see doctor webber. of course, you were heartbroken. how could your soulmate do that to you? but jonathan wasn’t doing it because he didn’t want to see you — it was quite the opposite, actually. he knew that feeling this way about his patient was so very wrong, and if he continued to see you, he wouldn’t be able to control himself.
really, he did this for you.
as you placed your little love concoction on the kitchen counter, you turned on your tv. jonathan was supposed to be doing a segment with the mayor of gotham tonight about the crime rates in the city, and what him and his team at arkham asylum were doing to solve the issue. as his face appeared on tv, you sighed to yourself. he was so handsome in his suit and tie — and those sexy little glasses?
meow.
the chilly gust of wind made you shiver for a moment, but your latex bodysuit kept you warm enough — well, not really. with your little cat ear headband, you toss your hair over your shoulders as you quietly make your way into the silent home. your black pumps were surprisingly silent against the wood floors, and you crept into the living room where a woman sat on the couch watching tv.
you went undetected as she completely missed your presence. stealthily, you creep behind her until suddenly, you yanked her by her hair. she screamed loudly, and your hand immediately went up to her mouth to clasp down on it; you were getting really good at this.
“don’t scream,” you whisper, “i just came here to tell you to stay away from my man.”
slowly, you remove your hand and she looks back at you with sheer terror, “wh-who’s your man?” she asked with fear laced in her voice.
you hated this bitch — she was one of jonathans patients. there was nothing going on between them, you knew that (plus you would’ve murdered her if there was!), but you had spent the last few weeks…"cleaning up the streets."
these ratty bitches had to go; any woman who was his patient or in his life at all had to go. you even dressed the part with your sexy little cat costume and all. you know what they say — in the eternal game of cat and mouse, there are no winners, only survivors.
“doctor jonathan crane,” you said dreamily, but your tone turned sinister within seconds, “and if you ever go see him again, i will find you, trust me. i've already found you once, and you don't want me to come prowling back around.”
the woman nodded frantically, and you went on your merry way. this was the last one, you were certain. you’d even made a list of all the women to threaten so that you could make sure they would stay away from your man. finally, you made your way home and started to wind down from all the break-ins you’d been making recently. it was hard work chasing down all these…mice.
jonathan noticed that his belongings were going missing here and there over the last few months, and he knew something strange was going on. he wasn’t sure what the hell was happening, but something was off.
first, little things such as his favourite pen (yes, he has a favourite pen) went missing. then, a few patient files would seemingly disappear along with some sticky notes he had stuck on his desk the day prior. he didn’t think too much of it until one of his credit cards went missing from his wallet — but there weren't any fraudulent charges made.
he even continued to monitor his bank account and freeze his card, but no charges were ever made on it regardless. the last straw was when his spare house key went missing. even for a man as smart as jonathan, he could not figure out who was doing this for the life of him.
you were still attending your regular sessions with doctor webber, but you deliberately booked your appointments on days you knew jonathan was working. you knew you’d run into him either on your way in or way out, and you also knew he wasn’t that booked up anymore since most of his clientele went…missing.
as you said your farewell to doctor webber, you noticed jonathan walking out of his office. he noticed you immediately, giving you a soft smile as you turned to close the door to doctor webbers office. he said your name softly, causing you to almost choke on your own words as you clutched his house keys behind your back.
“doctor crane,” you say softly, “hey.”
“just jonathan is fine,” he said, but he internally scolded himself for saying that, “how have you been?”
“great,” you say sweetly, “doctor webber is…great.”
“that’s wonderful to hear,” he says, “it was nice seeing you again. take care.”
you two parted ways, and once jonathan was back at his apartment — he was to refrain himself from calling you. god, you looked so good today. with those little dresses of yours and good grief, those sexy, little heels you always paired them with. he grabbed himself a glass of whiskey, neat, and took a swig as he thought about you.
why did you have to be on his mind so much, and dear god, why did you have to be so fucking beautiful?
with a frustrated sigh, he looked at his front door, thinking about his keys that suddenly went missing just a week prior. was he overthinking things? was he just imagining it? did he lose his own keys and forget?
he was a psychiatrist for gods sake, why was he driving himself crazy over this? with so many questions and no answers, he made his way to his bathroom as he flicked his kitchen lights off.
the cold water ran from the bathroom sink as he splashed it on his face after removing his glasses, and he looked at himself in the mirror to get a grip. his pale, icy, blue eyes bore into his own reflection, and-
what was that?
he turned around swiftly, turning the tap off, watching as something, no — someone’s perfectly manicured hand ghosted over the edge of his bathroom doorframe.
he couldn’t see anything — the kitchen light was turned off, and the only thing turned on was his dim bathroom light. the master of fear himself felt a little fearful in this moment as he watched the dainty, feminine hand retract and move back into the shadows and he could've sworn he saw...cat ears?
jonathan had to blink a few times to make sure that he hadn’t spilled a vile of his own fear toxin somewhere and that he wasn’t just hallucinating off of it.
hesitantly, he pushed open his bathroom door only to be met with the darkness of his kitchen. his breath hitched as he flicked on the kitchen lights, but he was met with an empty, quiet space. his eyes quickly darted to the front door, but it was locked shut.
but if the door was locked shut, what did he just see? who did he just see? was the scarecrow himself starting to succumb to silly, little, irrational fears? before his mind could start to wander anymore, he heard a familiar sound.
a certain, distinct, and awfully familiar sound of high heels clicking against the wood flooring — and it was coming right from his bedroom. jonathan went over to his bedroom, swinging the door open unsure of what he might see, only to be met with a sight that made him feel weak in the knees.
you were propped up on his bed, in a latex body suit and high heels, along with cat ears to complete your rather sexy costume. you batted your eyelashes at him innocently, and bit your lip as you showed him the rope in your hands.
“how did you…” he whispered, watching you bite your lip as he trailed off.
“doctor,” you purred, “let’s get intertwined.”
“what the fuck…” he whispered once more, watching you as if in a mesmerized trance.
jonathan couldn’t lie — as much as he should have been terrified and calling the cops, he was awfully turned on right now. jesus christ, that latex cat costume that left absolutely nothing to the imagination? yeah, he was hard the moment he saw you.
“i know it’s simply meant to be.” you say softly, and as if his mind could not control his body, he was making his way over to you on his bed.
“um, what-“
“shh,” you hush him, suddenly grabbing him as you swiftly tie a knot around his wrists, “you don’t need to speak, baby boy.”
in mere seconds you had the scarecrow tied up on his own bed, restrained as you looked down at him. jonathan sat there looking up at you — yes, you were hot but you were clearly also insane.
to be fair, so was he.
he didn't bother trying to get himself out of the ropes. he knew that if he tried to struggle you'd most definitely do something not so pleasant to him. also, if he was being honest — this was hot. like, really hot.
"i just need you to do me a favour, baby boy," you giggle, your high heels clicking against the wood flooring once more, "drink this for me, and know that if you refuse, you won't live to see another day."
you held up a vile of pink, shimmery liquid. jonathan looked at you with a raised brow, and hesitantly nodded.
"...i'll drink it if you answer some questions that i have." he says, trying to bargain with you.
"fine," you shrug, "but make it quick."
"alright, first of all, how did you get in here?" he asked.
"easy, i crawled in through your window. next." you say in an awfully innocent voice.
"are you the one that's been taking my stuff?" he asks, and you nod.
"of course, i needed your stuff for my collection." you say whimsically, biting your lip at the thought of your homemade jonathan crane shrine.
in your apartment, you had a wall dedicated to him. it had cut outs of him, printed pictures, his belongings, his address, photos of him when he was younger — the list just goes on. all just regular, boring, stalker stuff, really.
"no more questions," you huff, "drink up, baby boy."
"what is it?" he asked, to which you rolled your eyes.
"an at-home love potion. i'm going to untie you for this — and if you even attempt to run, i will slice your heart in two." you say with an adorable smile.
jonathan doesn't offer a response, but rather opts out for a simple nod. you slowly untie his wrists, handing him the pink, glittery liquid in the vile. you watch him in awe as he closes his eyes and takes it like a shot, smiling to yourself as you realize that he's finally going to be all yours.
this little concoction that you had whipped up was the real deal — you'd even tested it on other men to see if it did what it was intended to do. it worked on them, bringing these men to their knees for you, but it's not like you really had any trouble doing that without a love potion, anyway.
after jonathan drinks it all, he looks back at you blankly. unbeknownst to you, when you were popping the cork off of the potion, he sneakily grabbed a vile of his fear toxin that was stashed by the foot of his bed — just in case you tried to actually murder him.
his plan was to immediately throw the vile at you and watch you succumb to your fears, but if he was being honest, he wanted to see what this shitty little "love potion" could do. he was a man of science, after all.
"i don't feel anything," he said after a moment, "looks like your potion didn't work after all-"
you cut him off with a small giggle, "you don't feel any different?"
"no."
"i've tested it, i know it works," you giggled, "that means if you don't feel any different from before, then you must already love me-"
suddenly, he lunged at you, making you scramble as you tried to fight back. however, he was much stronger than you, making it physically impossible to overpower him. after struggling for a good minute, he had you tied down on the bed like you had him just moments before.
"you're sick in the head," he says, but you could've sworn you saw him smirking, "you're real fucking twisted, you know that? i could call the cops and have you arrested right now."
"do it," you teased, "i dare you to, baby boy."
jonathan suddenly grabbed you by the neck, "what was that?"
you had you refrain from smiling as he choked you softly, feeling yourself get wet from just a second of his touch. you knew exactly what he wanted now.
"sorry," you corrected, "i dare you, sir."
"there we go." he says as he lets go of your throat.
he rummages through his bedside drawer and pulls out some of his own rope, causing your mind to spin at the idea of what he was going to do to you. you didn't run when he untied your wrists initially, but he took a few moments to tie both your wrists up to his bedposts, essentially tying you up so you couldn't move your hands at all.
"oh," you say with a teasing voice, "i see where this is going."
he smirks at you, admiring how sexy you look all tied up in his bed, with your costume and all. he takes his phone out and shamelessly takes a picture with the flash on, and you could feel that you were leaking your arousal down his bedsheets by now.
it seemed that your love potion didn't work on him because, well, he was already obsessed with you.
of course he was — but jonathan was known for his good work ethic. he only gave you up as a patient because it was only a matter of time before he would give in and most likely fuck you on the couch in his office. he just didn't know it was mutual at the time. if he did, well — that's a story for another day.
"maybe i should punish you," he smirks, making his way over to you on the bed, "you've been so disobedient."
"m'sorry, sir," you whimper, "you just make me crazy."
"i know," he cooed condescendingly, "but i think i can fix that, darling."
"you can?"
"i most definitely can," he says lowly, "it might take a few sessions to cure you, but i have a method i think might work on you. i'm gonna fuck you 'till you can't think anymore, no more thoughts after that. sound good?"
you nodded frantically, "mhm, yes. please, fuck yes."
he smirked at you, his hands reaching towards the top of your bodysuit. slowly, he reached his hands behind and unzipped it, slipping it off of you slowly.
"i like the cat costume," he chuckles lowly, "the ears are a cute touch."
you blushed, biting your lip as he slipped you right out of your latex bodysuit. obviously, you wore nothing underneath — not even panties. jonathan groaned at the sight because seriously, no panties? with your wrists tied up and unable to touch him, you were getting pent up real fast.
"i wanna touch you," you whined, "please."
he smirked, "if only you didn't break into my apartment like a stray."
before you could even formulate a proper response, he was crawling between your legs, spreading them out as he got onto his stomach. without warning, he licked a fat stripe up your already soaking cunt, latching his mouth onto your pussy. your back arched at the feeling, and he continued to lap you up.
"f-fuck, jon," you breathed, "feels s-so good."
"i know." he said cooly against your core, lapping up your arousal continuously as you moaned over and over again.
it was sinful how skilled he was with his tongue — it hadn't even been a full five minutes and you were already on the brink of creaming all over his face. he didn't give you any mercy as he continued to eat you out like a starved man, and your wrists were burning against the rope as you tugged on them.
god, the things you would do to run your hands through his soft, dark, and now tousled hair.
"nnnghh," you whimper, "i'm, ah- gon' cum!"
the coil in your stomach snapped as your release hit you like a freight train, making you scream his name as he made you cum. you were left a panting mess, and he finally released the grip he had on your thighs. after wiping his pink, plump lips along with his chin which glistened with your wetness, he smiled softly at you.
"taste s'good," he commented, "you look so pretty like this, darling. tied up and helpless."
"n-need you," you whisper, "baby, please."
this time, he didn't correct you and demand you call him "sir." maybe it was the heat of the moment or maybe it was the realization that he had finally met a woman who was as unhinged as he was. deep down, he was really loving the idea.
he started to undo his belt, making sure to keep his eyes locked on yours, teasing you as he undid his belt at a painfully slow pace. finally, after what felt like an eternity (it maybe thirty seconds at most), his cock sprung out of his pants, hitting his stomach lightly. it was long, veiny, and thick. how was that supposed to fit inside of you? surely it would split you open.
"cat got your tongue?" he teased as he unbuttoned his white button-down, stroking his cock a few times as your hips bucked into nothing.
"uh-huh." you whispered in awe, biting your lip at the thought of how his size was going to stretch you beyond your limits.
with a low chuckle, he lined his thick cock up with your begging hole, pushing in slowly as you felt him stretch your cunt out fully. he was so big and so long, the feeling of him just halfway inside of you was enough to have you pulling against the ropes again. the way the rope was digging into your wrists was degrading but undeniably hot. it was like a silent reminder of how little control you actually had over this whole situation.
"s-so full!" you squeaked, but he kept pushing himself into your tight, warm hole.
"s'okay, you can take it. and if you can't, i'll make you take it." he groaned, finally bottoming out in you.
you were stuffed to the brim with his cock and slowly, he started to thrust his length in and out of you. desperately, you let out a feverish moan. your breaths were short but heavy, and you were a fucked out, cockdrunk mess for him as he picked up his pace.
"you're so fucking tight, my god," he moaned, "i should've fucked you sooner."
"make me cum," you plead desperately, "f-fuck, yes, feels so good, jonathan!"
"yeah? you wanna cum?" he cooed as he continued to fuck your sopping pussy, "you wanna cum on this cock?"
"fuck, yes." you pleaded.
his cock was pressed snugly up against your cervix, so deep that you could feel him in your stomach. he continued to stretch your little hole out, ruthlessly pounding his thick cock into you more and more as you started to see stars. your walls started to flutter around him, letting him know that you were close without having to say a word.
"close already, darling?" he asked, "are you gonna cum for me again, hm?"
"y-yes!" you moaned, "ohmygod- i'm gonna-"
your words started to melt together at one point as you got lost in the pleasure of your high. soon enough, your soaking cunt was tightening up around his fat cock, and a clear liquid poured out from you.
of course — you were so turned on by the way he was screwing you that you'd squirted all over his bedsheets.
"oh, darling," he moaned, "that was so fucking sexy, jesus."
"j-jonathan, baby," you begged, "i-i can't-"
"you can, i promise," he groaned, "i'm close."
"p-please." you started to beg incoherently, the overstimulation making your head spin as your cunt fluttered around his cock again.
he continued to ram your tight pussy until his thrusts started to become sloppier and sloppier, and you could tell that he was close to the edge.
"cum i-inside," you begged him, "i need to be filled, fuck-"
"okay, okay," he panted as his he gave you a few more deep, harsh thrusts, 'm'gonna fill you up, darling."
you nodded, your head spinning as he finally came inside with a low groan, painting your walls white as he stuffed you with his warm seed. he stilled, staying inside of your warm hole for just a little longer to ensure you got every last bit of his cum, before pulling out his semi-hard cock.
he bit his lip as he watched his cum drip out of you (the sight of him biting his lip almost made you cum again), and he reached over to untie your wrists as you slumped down against the pillows. he laughed softly, pulling you into him as you instinctively cuddled into his arms.
he pulled the cat ear headband off your head, which you forgot you still had on, and tossed them to the side.
"i guess i'm going to have a hard time getting rid of you, huh? stalker." he joked, sighing as he took in all the details of your pretty face.
"you won't be able to get rid of me," you say softly, "i'm obsessed with you."
"good, i don't want you around anyone but me." he says, playing with your hair gently.
"i know," you giggle, "but stupid love potion was useless. i should've known you were already in love with me."
the both of you laughed softly, snuggled up in his bed as he told you all about what he did on the side for work — and all about his plans to fear gas gotham city.
jonathan trusted you with this because he knew there wasn't a line in existence that you wouldn't cross for him.
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hiii new pinned post again because the last one was outdated, there are links to the previous ones in that one as well. unfortunately there are no real updates re: my dad's wrongful imprisonment. at this point, they might be waiting until the statutes of limitations happen and it's over, i don't know. he has a therapist who's kind of expensive but we have to pay for and he has to go weekly because of all the trauma he has left from being in jail and from losing his job/not being able to find a new one because of this. his health got worse in there, too, so there are a lot of different doctors he has to go to, medications, etc. he's doing better every day, though, but that takes a lot of money of course.
i used to have a redbubble account that helped me get afloat alongside this blog, but it got suspended without notice and never got reinstated no matter how many things i've tried, so... that's another source of income that we lost. i used to make around 30/40 dollars a month there, now i make like 1/2 dollars on teepublic monthly, that's a huge difference. argentina's economy was always bad but it has been an absolute disaster since the current president got elected. prices rise literally on a weekly basis for everything from basic groceries to public transportation, power, water, phone bills, etc. my laptop's keyboard broke at some point and i almost had to buy a new one with money i literally didn't have, just going into negative numbers, but i managed to find a guy who replaced it for as cheap as he could. it was still expensive, but it was better than having to buy a new laptop entirely. would love to get a stable job, but that's always been impossible in this country, even more so lately. for updates on argentina in english, this person on twitter makes very good informative threads if you're interested.
on top of that my dog passed from cancer a few weeks ago, that was really expensive for us too, meds and appointments and special foods and everything that we could do to keep her happy until it was her time to go, and she was. i also started therapy around the time she was diagnosed (thank god) but my therapist had to rise her rates because of the economy mess i already mentioned, so... yeah. everything is exhausting and everything is expensive, and this is literally my only source of income. it's also the thing that i love doing the most and the thing that keeps me sane in all of this mess, so hey, never leaving. in fact, if anything ever happens to this website, you can always find me under fashion_runways on twitter or probably anywhere else. some of you guys mentioned not seeing my posts lately too, so if you can/want to, you can turn notifications on!
anyway yeah, all that to say i love this blog, i love fashion, and i love showing you guys new cool things and giving you guys ideas for art, or writing, or your own style, or just interesting stuff to look at. so if you can donate any money, that would help me more than you think. even a single dollar can change what i can do with my day sometimes, i swear. as usual, my kofi link: https://ko-fi.com/fashionrunways and my teepublic link: https://www.teepublic.com/user/dinah-lance. thanks for being around and sharing and reblogging my posts, thanks for asking questions about fashion, and of course thanks for helping to the ones who can, and thanks to the ones who can't too, i know how that feels like, don't worry about it. i love you 💖
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ordinarily
synopsis: you’re having a few issues with your sex life so you decide to start seeing a sex therapist with your boyfriend
warnings: reader receiving, cheating, lots of sex talk bcs this entire fic is literally set around sex, fingering, clitoral stimulus, vibrators, dildos + strap on, sana watches reader masturbate
w/c: 7.8k
a/n: if u didn't know im a psych student and this idea came to me at 3am while cramming sexual dysfunctions for my finals and i ltr wrote this in a few hours bcs i was OBSESSED - that being said this is all still fictional bcs... let's be honest i js wanted to have sex with dr sana but some of the facts are still real! the treatment however... not so real LMAO
❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
“ms. l/n?”
“yes!” you scramble upwards at the sound of your name, pulling your boyfriend up with you and walking briskly towards the woman who’s called you. she offers a kind smile, gesturing for you to follow her.
“is it alright if i bring my boyfriend along?”
she nods, “yes that’s fine. it’s actually customary that both partners are here for appointments like these.”
she leads you towards her office, a clean, organised room with a small couch next to the doctor’s table and chair, and what looks like an upgraded version of a classic examination table.
she seats you both and rolls her chair forward so she’s facing the both of you when she talks. “so how can i help you today ms. l/n?” her eyes are kind, a hint of a smile on her lips.
“u-um just y/n is fine dr. …” you glance to her badge, “minatozaki.”
“alright y/n. sana is fine for me too then.” she smiles.
“r-right sana. so we’ve just been having some trouble with our- um- sex life recently and i think it’s mainly my fault.”
she frowns a little, picking up a notepad on her table to jot down some things, “why would you think that?”
“um well- i- i haven’t um- i’ve never had a penis in me before. my previous male partners would only ever use their hands or mouth but because we were getting a little more serious than that, i wanted to let ben-“ you glance at your boyfriend who looks a little uncomfortable, shifting around in his seat a little, “be the first and we’ve tried for a while now but it’s always just too painful? and i know everyone says the pain passes and whatever but it never seems to pass for me…” you blush, getting progressively embarrassed as you go on.
"i see. do you mind if i ask you a few questions about your sex life?"
you nod, feeling intimidated by the things she's jotting down into her notepad.
"how long has this been going on?"
"umm- i'd say we've tried to have penetrative sex for about 2 months now?"
"have you ever experienced anything like this before?"
"no."
"do you have any history of previous mental health problems?"
"not really, no."
"when you attempt to have sex, do you engage in foreplay?"
"u-um... yes."
"and are you able to secrete natural lubricant from that?"
ben lets out an undignifed snort. you elbow him, face burning red when sana looks up from her notepad, narrowing her eyes at ben who shrinks in his seat, covering his mouth.
"u-um yes i think so."
"ben? is this true?" sana's eyes are locked on ben.
"sorry doc are you asking me if my girlfriend gets wet?"
"for lack of better words yes."
"well yes she gets plenty wet. i always make sure she's turned on before i go in. if you’re asking about if i'm good at sex then yes. i am. plenty of girls in the past have cum because of me."
"i didn't ask that but thank you for your contribution." sana says a little sarcastically, looking back towards you and then down to her notepad. you elbow ben again in response who glances at you slightly annoyed, the tips of his ears red.
"what sorts of foreplay activity do you engage in, does it arouse you, and on average how long would you say your foreplay would go on for?"
"i- um- i-"
"this is a safe space. everything i'm asking is purely for diagnosis reasons, there's nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed about, i deal with lots of clients everyday who come in and have talked about much more bizarre things and none of them are nearly as attractive as you are which makes it a lot worse when someone comes in here claiming they have sexual proclivities towards aliens or otherworldly beings."
you blush, the throwaway compliment in there didn't fly past you. "do people really ask about that?"
sana chuckles a little, "oh you'd be surprised the things people come in here about."
you laugh a little in response as well, feeling more comfortable around the doctor, "um well i guess we do all the normal stuff. kissing, whatever, um it usually lasts about... 10 minutes?" you turn to ben who shakes his head a little so you correct yourself, "20 minutes maybe. and um yeah i guess it does arouse me."
sana hums, making a few more notes, "are your nipples sensitive? your breasts? does he play with them? what about your clitoris?"
"i- um- yes... to all of those."
"have you ever orgasmed before?"
"i- yes."
she senses the hesitation in your voice, looking up curiously, "have you orgasmed during sexual relations with ben?"
you shuffle in your seat a little uncomfortably. ben looks at you expectedly, but you can't bring yourself to meet his eyes.
"yes. yes she has." ben replies for you instead when he realises you're not responding.
sana's eyes cut to his with a scowl forming on her face, "did you know only 64.4% of women are able to reach their orgasm during sex? and that number is even lower when the sex is just penetrative? in comparison, 91.3% of men reach their orgasm, in fact, sexual dysfunction in men is actually more common when men orgasm too fast."
ben raises an eyebrow defiantly, "your point doc?"
"that it's normal for women not to reach orgasm. and normal for them to fake it when their boyfriends are pretentious assholes that think they have the best game in the world but in reality, have inflated egos that would easily be shattered if he found out he wasn't as good as he thought he was. most of these women care too much about hurting their partner's feelings than to tell the truth."
ben leans forward aggressively, ignoring your protests for him to sit back down, "i don't know what kinda whack patients you got in here doc but i'm not one of them. i don't need anyone to worry about my feelings like you women do."
sana rolls her eyes, not backing down from his intimidation, "do you have any problems with sexual activity? come too fast? not able to get it up? not able to come?"
ben sputters, "w-what?! who do you think i am?!"
"it's a yes or no question."
"no! i don't have any of those problems! i told you i'm not one of your weird patients!"
"alright that's all we'll be needing from you today. i think this session will be much more productive for y/n if you leave the room. so if you'd please-" she stands up and opens the door, indicating for him to leave.
"what? you can't just kick me out! this is my girlfriend! i'm just as involved in this as she is!"
"actually, since you haven't admitted to having any problems with sex, and you've both said that foreplay and arousal is adequate, there's nothing more that involves you. so yes, i can kick you out."
ben looks back at you, his face red, but you push him forward, "just go ben don't make a scene. i'll see you outside." he frowns, sending a final glare to sana before stomping out the room.
sana closes the door softly after him, settling back down with a sigh.
"i'm so sorry about him i didn't know he would react like that i-"
"it's okay y/n. this is actually quite common. sexual dysfunction is often severely underreported in men, because of the masculine standards they put themselves up to, lots of them won't seek treatment. that's why most of the clients we get are women who come in here with their boyfriends, and a lot of the time these boyfriends don't think they have anything to do with the women's sexual dysfunction, and a lot of them can't accept that they do."
"but you just said-"
"i know what i said. and it's true that if your foreplay is indeed enough and arousing for you, and that this isn't because of any sexual dysfunction he may have, then it no longer directly regards him. however, just because it doesn't directly involve him, doesn't mean it's got absolutely nothing to do with him. i do think i have an idea of what you're going through, but to confirm i'd like to ask a couple more questions if that's okay with you? and hopefully you can be fully honest with me now that ben isn't here."
you shuffle in your seat a little. "yeah of course."
she smiles, going back to her notepad, "so backtracking a bit, i'm assuming ben hasn't been able to make you orgasm?"
you blush, shaking your head.
"how about with previous partners? is there anything they've done that's helped you reach that orgasm or are there any similarities you can think about between them?"
"mm well for one, i've only ever been able to come when i'm with women."
"oh?" sana looks up again over her specs, a twinkle in her eye.
"u-um yeah and with them it's mostly um, using their hands or oral, and even then i normally need at least some clitoral stimulation to come. i have tried using dildos before but i also find it a little too painful, but i'm at least able to bear it when it's with a woman, with ben i kinda just push him off because it's all too much."
"i see. that's quite normal. most women do require clitoral stimulation to be able to orgasm. a very small proportion of women are actually able to come from penetration alone. do you masturbate?"
you blush again, fiddling with your fingers, but her friendly smile reassures you, "yes. well- less since i've been with ben because he doesn't really like it when he finds out i've touched myself. he gets a little offended and always says i don't need to masturbate when i have him. he takes offense because he thinks i'm doing it since he's not doing a good enough job or something."
"hmm." she hums, jotting something else down, "is he doing a good enough job? i know you said foreplay was fine but i just wanted to check in on that again."
"he's alright i guess. like most men i've been with in the past he does kinda rush things a little, and he does do foreplay it's just a little rougher than i like sometimes. i also think um-" you blush, eyes flickering around the room.
"mm?" sana smiles gently again, encouraging you.
"i think he has trouble finding my clit? or i don't know he always kinda fumbles around when he fingers me so his hands always brush against my clit a little too rough and then he presses down on parts where he thinks it is and asks me if it feels good."
sana hums again, writing down some more notes before the next question. "so back to masturbation, before ben, how often would you say you masturbated?"
"oh u-um, maybe like once a month?"
"and you're able to make yourself come?"
"sometimes. sometimes it just gets too tiring and i end up just falling asleep."
"i see." sana writes a few finishing notes and then places her notepad on the table. "so from what you've told me today, it would seem like you have something called genito-pelvic pain or penetration disorder. normally this sort of behaviour has to go on for at least 6 months before it is diagnosable, but even though it’s only been two months for you, we can still work on ways to improve your symptoms. so there's nothing physically wrong with you or your body, this is more of a cognitive response to a fear of pain from penetration. what happens is because of this fear, you're vaginal muscles tighten when you're about to have sex, they're trying to protect you from this invasive thing that's going to enter your body and that it thinks will cause you a lot of pain. this is why it's so much more painful when someone does penetrate you, because you're muscles are already working actively to try and push it out, they only get tighter and tighter making sex more painful for you. this kinda creates this cycle of fear because it does hurt when you have sex, so the next time it happens, your muscles learn to anticipate this pain and try to close you off from this external invasion. does that kinda make sense?"
you nod a little hazily, the words floating around in your head.
"it's a good thing that you're still able to take penetration though. in some extreme cases women's vaginas have been sealed so tight penis penetration is impossible. now there aren't any medications for this unfortunately, but the main treatment is to unlearn this fear that's maintaining the disorder, and eventually you'll be able to engage in sex that is enjoyable for you again."
"how would i unlearn that?"
"well first of all, masturbation helps. a lot. you say you were only really doing it once a month in the past but actually, masturbating weekly or even twice a week is perfectly normal. and i know you said your boyfriend doesn't really like it but... well it's your body right? if he can't make you feel good then you need to start learning how to make yourself feel good. you need to start turning sex into a positive experience again. later down the line, that also means a lot more foreplay than what you're currently doing. i'm talking like an hour at least. using lube as well will be extremely useful, even if you are wet, it always helps to be fully prepared for that first penetration. i know this all sounds like a lot right now so we'll start slow. would you mind getting up on the examination table and taking off your pants and underwear. i'd like to examine your pelvic muscles a little more closely."
you nod, shuffling onto your feet and beginning to strip out of your clothes. sana pays you no mind, grabbing a new pair of gloves and slipping them on. you figure sana has done this plenty of times in the past, there was nothing to be embarrassed about. well... aside from the fact that sana was really pretty and her really pretty hands were about to be touching you and-
she's turning back around when you lay on the examination table, hands crossed on your stomach, fiddling with your fingers. you avoid her gaze but catch the way her eyes linger a little on your legs. she moves closer towards you, you keep your gaze fixed on the ceiling, feeling the tips of your ears go red at the attention.
she giggles a little and you're confused, "y/n you have to open your legs for me to be able to see anything."
"oh right i- um-" you shyly spread your legs apart, revealing your cleanly shaven lips.
sana squeezes something into her hand, "this is just lube. to see your pelvic muscles in action means i'll have to part your walls so i'm just lubricating them to make it a little more comfortable for you." she looks up at you, waiting for your consent, and when you nod, she gets straight to work.
you gasp at the cold feeling of the lubricant running down your folds, wiggling a little. then, sana's hands come in and start massaging the lube along your folds, spreading it so it covers the entire surface area of your core, fingers gentle as she spreads the liquid. your breath catches a little when she bypasses your clit, squeezing your hands together, and trying your best to not make any inappropriate sounds while in your doctor's office.
you sneak a glance down at her, watching the way she has her lip caught between her teeth while she focuses, eyes glued to your folds. she spreads your lips and starts applying the lube on your inner folds as well, meticulous with her work, making sure no slice of skin was missed.
"i'm going to start prodding around your entrance now alright?"
you can only choke out a hum in response, not trusting your voice to give away the fact that this was turning you on very much.
one of her fingers glides down to your entrance, her other hand still holding your lips open, and she starts to poke gently at your entrance, you can feel when a short fingernail dips in just slightly, wiggling around a little to try and loosen you up. at this point you're kinda glad sana went with the lube because it meant she couldn't tell she was actually getting you spectacularly wet on her own, your own slick mixing with the lube she's spread all over.
she starts pushing a finger in very slowly, but you cringe a little and shuffle your hips when she's about a knuckle in. she pulls out gently, "hurts?"
you nod, "a little."
she starts pressing gently against your folds again, "i'm just going to try massage your folds from the outside, hopefully it'll get your muscles to relax a little with some stimulation."
it is relaxing, the way she's gently pressing into you, it’s certainly never like anything you’ve felt before, it turns you on, but also eases you, it’s a combination you’ve never experienced.
when she gently runs a finger over the hood of your clit your hips jerk and you gasp.
“sorry! too much?” sana backs away quickly, hands raised so you can see she’s no longer touching you.
you inhale, forcing yourself to look at her, your gaze a little blurry, eyes lidded, “n-no. that was- g-good actually.” your voice is a lot scratchier than it was, you can’t believe how turned on you are from just minutes of being with her. “a-actually would it- um- are you allowed to take your gloves off? like if you want to! you don’t have to if you think it’s gross or anything i just think it could help a little so you can feel exactly where your skin and nails touch me.”
sana raises an eyebrow, seeming to consider you, and you want to crawl back into your pants, run away and never see be seen in public again the longer she takes to regard you.
but then wordlessly, she takes her gloves off, flicking them into the bin and reaching for the bottle of lube.
“oh um- you don’t have to. i’m wet enough i think.”
sana smirks then, squeezing some into her palm, “oh sweetie i know. remember what i said about lubing up anyway though? there can never be too much lube.”
you blush at the pet name, gritting your teeth when you feel the cool liquid and the soft touch of her fingers again. except this time it’s so much more real, you can feel every single brush, every stroke, every movement of her fingers against you. when she brushes against your clit again, you can’t help the faint moan you let out. your cheeks burn in embarrassment when you feel her still her movements against you. “s-sorry i-“
“it’s okay. you can make as many sounds as you want. just relax. stop thinking sweetie.” she brushes over your clit again, with a little more purpose this time, and you let out another whimper, trying to stop your hips from grinding against her hand.
the next few minutes are torturous. you're biting back moans every 2 seconds, focusing on keeping your hips solidly on the examination table, hands clenched tight together, you’re so wet you can hear the way she's sliding through your folds much more easily now, able to insert the entire length of her fingernail in with each stroke downwards. your breathing has gotten observably heavier, each inhale and exhale is strained, and you certainly couldn’t look at sana anymore, eyes glazed, just trying to focus on not giving yourself away.
"i’m gonna try go in again now okay?"
you nod, a little desperately, closing your eyes to block out the sight of her between your legs.
she gently prods at your entrance, now able to slide a knuckle in fairly easily, you feel like jelly around her, unable to control your own movements when you jolt downwards, sucking in more of her finger and moaning at the feeling.
“alright?”
“mhm just- just do it.”
“do what sweetie?”
“just- you know-“
“hmm?” she slips a little further in, and you clench around her, your muscles trying to trap her inside of you.
“f-fuck- i- yeah- fuck-“
she giggles a little and you flush, you realise again that she’s very attractive and very good with her hands and those hands are now inching even deeper into you, and before you know it, she’s got her entire finger buried inside of you.
you’re breathless at the feeling.
“painful at all?”
“n-no. not at all. feels- um- g-good.”
you can hear the smirk in her voice when she teases, “you feel good.”
you clench around her at the praise, unaware that sana’s trying her very best to stay as professional as possible, despite wanting so badly to rid you of all your clothes and fuck you until you were moulded to only be able to take her.
“relax baby. i’m going to slide back out now okay?”
you whine when you feel her retreating slowly, your walls gripping her finger, urging her to stay inside. but she comes out until just the tip of her finger is in you, and then pushes in again, filling you up deliciously.
you exhale deeply, back arching at the feeling.
“good?”
“fuck- so fucking good oh god-“
she’s pulling out and pushing in again, slow and careful, watching your body for any signs of pain and fixed on the way your face contorts in pleasure at the feeling of being sexually satisfied for the first time in months.
“think you can take another?” you peek open your eyes to find that sana looks slightly more dishevelled than before, her breathing also a little irregular now, her voice low with lust. you gulp at the sight.
“y-yeah.”
now that you've caught a glimpse of her, you can't look away, your eyes tracing the way her gaze is a little clouded, her tongue peaking out to wet her lips. then she's pushing in again with a second finger, rubbing your clit lightly with her other hand and pressing down onto the external parts of your folds to get you to loosen up.
you suck her in easily, whimpering a little when she stops and looks up at you in concern.
"k-keep going p-please- i can take it- fuck-"
so she continues her journey, pressing in deeper, and deeper, until she's able to fit two fingers snugly inside of you. you moan when she fills you up, pulsing around her, muttering curses and hands moving to hold onto the sides of the examination table.
but then, sana's pulling out again, and this time she doesn't come back. she clears her throat, moving towards the sink in her office to wash herself up.
you clamber onto your elbows hazily, completely soaked and watch in confusion as she dries her hands, her cheeks flushed.
"i think that's enough for today y/n. you can use the sink and this towel here to clean yourself up and get dressed. i'll wait for you outside." she doesn't spare you another glance and slips outside the room, closing it behind her to give you some privacy.
you take a second to recover because what the fuck just happened? you can only follow her instructions dumbly, picking up the towel she's left for you and cleaning yourself up, still incredibly sensitive when you twitch with each swipe along your folds. you put your clothes back on and rearrange your hair so that it doesn't look like you were just about to come mere minutes ago.
once you're tidied up and you've cleared your mind, or at least pushed all the lustful thoughts about being fucked into the table aside, you step outside the office, looking around to find that sana's with ben at the front desk, talking to the receptionist.
you clear your throat to announce your presence when you walk up to them. ben seems to have calmed down and he kisses your cheek sweetly when you sidle up next to him. you take note of the way sana eyes the action, her grip on the pen getting just a little tighter.
"alright y/n. i talked with ben to get an idea of your availability so i hope it's okay that i've booked you in for another session in about 2 weeks."
"yes that's fine!" your voice comes out unintentionally higher than you meant it to. the nerves and confusion hitting you at once.
"and i'll also set you a little homework. like we talked about, masturbation is key to getting better. so here's a self-care kit, it's got a clitoral vibrator and a few different dildo sizes as well as a couple of bottles of lube. i want you to try using the vibrator first, get used to the feeling of orgasming, and then start to bring in the smallest dildo. ben can watch if you want him to or help, but just remember what i said about making sex a positive experience. that's the main purpose of all of this, just relearning that sex is good and that it’s meant to be fun and enjoyable. i'll check with you in 2 weeks how the progress is going and we'll go from there. any questions?"
the entire time she talks to you, she barely looks into your eyes, it's clear she's already discussed all of this with ben who looks more than happy to be a bystander to your sexual pleasure if it meant he would be able to have sex with you later on. you find yourself a little disappointed that she won't acknowledge you. you shake your head no, and she slides you a few forms and the self-care package she mentioned, discreetly wrapped and in a cute little takeaway bag.
"great i'll see you in two weeks y/n. if you'll excuse me now." she sidesteps you and walks briskly back into her office, your eyes trail after her, but you shake the feelings from your head, refocusing on the present and the way ben has his arm wrapped around you.
❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
it's a fortnight later and you're sitting in a familiar waiting room, this time without ben because you convinced him to stay behind after his retaliatory actions the last time he was here. maybe you also just wanted to see sana alone but you weren't going to tell him that.
if you were being honest, sana hasn't left your mind once since you left the clinic two weeks ago. even when you were completing her assigned homework tasks, it wasn't broad muscles and rugged facial hair that you were thinking of, no matter how hard you tried, your thoughts always drifted back to the way sana had handled you so carefully, the way her fingers felt inside you, how she paid attention to every single reaction you made, every small sound, twitch, how attentive she was. and sometimes your thoughts drifted into territory that was a little more imaginative. those usually consisted of sana using the various toys she'd given you to bring you to heights you weren't able to bring yourself to.
"y/n?"
your head snaps up at the voice. you beam seeing her, she has her hair up today, pretty earrings and perfect features accentuated. she smiles in response at you, gesturing you to follow her to her office.
you settle into the familiar office again, much more relaxed and excited than the last time you were here.
"i see you're looking a lot more chipper than 2 weeks ago." sana comments with a smile, grabbing her notepad that you recognise from last week.
"just happy to see you again."
her smile fades a little at that, but you don't let that discourage you.
"right... so tell me how your fortnight has been. have you attempted to have sex with your boyfriend again? uh... bryson was it? or brendan?"
"ben. and no we haven't had sex again. i also took your advice and let masturbation be just a personal experience. he asked to watch and help but i told him it would be better if he didn't."
"that's good to hear. how has the masturbation been?"
"great! you were right! i've forgotten what having sex just for the sake of doing it for myself felt like. i've spent so long thinking i enjoyed it when i was really just an item for my partner's satisfaction. in a sense that brought me joy as well, being able to provide a source of happiness for them, but i realised that that's not a healthy thing to keep doing."
sana smiles genuinely, "very good y/n. i'm glad that masturbation has helped you realised that. how about your vaginal muscles? did you try using the dildos in the self care package?"
"um- yes i did but- i was actually hoping- uh-"
"hmm? what is it?"
"well i still haven't really been able to cum from using the dildos, only from the vibrator. it's not as painful anymore to put them in, and i'm still working up the sizes, but it still doesn't really feel good? like it just feels like there's something in me, it doesn't really derive pleasure or anything like that."
sana hums, thinking a little, writing down a few notes before closing her notepad. "would you show me?"
"i- um- sorry what?"
"how you've been masturbating. it may be something with the technique, but if it's something else more serious, i'd need to know about it."
"oh! yeah of course." you stumble upwards, repeating your movements from 2 weeks ago, stripping of your clothes, except this time, you take your top off as well.
sana yelps and turns around at your abrupt show of skin.
"something wrong sana?"
"oh- um- no nothing i just thought- um- i didn't think there was reason for your top to be off as well-"
"you wanted to see how i touched myself right? i generally try and stimulate my tits as well since my nipples are quite sensitive."
"right... yes of course." she turns around again, avoiding your gaze and looking to the floor, waiting for you to get on the examination table.
your lips quirk a little at how shy she's being, "is something the matter sana? you see naked bodies all the time in this line of work don't you? and you pretty much saw me naked last time as well..."
sana blushes even brighter, "um- well- yes but- most of my patients tend to be middle aged and they certainly aren't as attractive as you are."
"you think i'm attractive?" you're laid on the examination table now, head turned to the side so you can watch as the doctor fumbles where she's seated, still not looking at you.
"i- um- well- forgive me- i'm trying really hard to be professional right now and-"
"is that why you left in such a hurry during our last session?" you start trailing your hands over yourself, finding yourself easily aroused in the presence of the other woman.
"oh- um- well- yes i- i didn't want to make you uncomfortable-"
you moan gently when a practiced hand glides up to squeeze softly at a tit, the other sliding down slowly towards your centre. "you could never make me uncomfortable sana. well actually... i was only really uncomfortable when you left me so empty last time. i couldn't wait to go home and try out the toys you gave me, i haven't felt so turned on in so long and i needed to get that out of my system as soon as i could." you're trying to get a rise out of her, but everything you're saying is the truth anyway.
sana's eyes are on you now, wide and a little shocked at the words coming out of your mouth, and you revel in the way that meant her eyes now travelled your body. you try and angle yourself so she can see the way you squeeze at your breast, brushing over a nipple lightly with your palm and watching it pebble in reaction, your other hand dipping down to trace along your folds, finding that you're already dripping, the fact that the object of your sexual desires for the last 2 weeks is now only inches away from you, watching you touch yourself, driving you further off the edge of sanity.
"y/n..." sana's voice comes out almost 2 octaves lower than her usual register. you catch the way she wets her lips and crosses her legs.
"i'm so wet already i don't even need lube. and i know you kept saying to use it no matter what and trust me i did when i got myself off at home, but right now, just look-" you bring your hand up from between your legs, making an obscene display of licking your fingers and sucking on them, making sure she could see the arousal that coated your fingers.
sana's jaw tightens at the sight, she shuffles a little in her seat, unconsciously moving closer towards you.
"you don't have to worry about being unprofessional sana. i promise i want this just as much as you do right now." you slide your hand back down yourself, finding your clit easily after the practice you've gotten over the last fortnight, and rubbing circles around it.
"bold of you to assume i want this. this is my job after all." you leak at the register in her voice, it's something you've only been able to imagine in your fantasies.
"you don't want me?" you pout a little, turning onto your side so your entire body is facing her, your arm pushing your breasts together while a finger tugs gently on a nipple, your other hand still rubbing fast little circles into your clit.
sana chuckles darkly, her eyes closing, she seems to be trying to force herself to keep still.
"because just to be clear... i've thought about how you touched me every single time i came these past two weeks." your breath hitches when you recall the way you'd vigorously rub one out to her, sometimes multiple times a day ever since you started masturbating again. "i- oh fuck- no one has gotten me that turned on in such a short amount of time ever- nng- and i'd think about the way you felt inside me, and how careful and gentle you were- fuck- and then i'd think about how rough you could get as well- oh- and how i'd try and be so good for you- can you- can you pass me the dildo? i think i can slide the smallest one in now-"
she gets up from her seat wordlessly, exuding a dark aura that makes you clench your thighs in anticipation. she moves towards your bag, digging for the package and pulling it out, taking the smallest dildo and then moving back towards you. her pupils are blown, hungrily drinking you in, your fingers speed up just a little at the attention.
you reach out a hand mid-moan, asking for her to pass you the toy.
but she clicks her tongue, pushing your hand away gently and lubing up the toy herself.
you gulp, turning so you're laid flat on your back again, spreading your legs so she can see just how wet you were.
her eyes meet yours briefly, and you adore the way she checks in and makes sure you're okay with this, and you nod, giving her permission before she's sliding the dildo into you.
"oh shit-"
sana hums, pushing the little gold dildo in further, transfixed on the way your fingers move just a little rougher around your clit with every centimetre.
when she's completely inside you moan, clenching around the dildo, it was a comfortable size inside you.
"any pain?" her voice is rough, laced with barely concealed lust.
you whine, "n-no- you can move."
she starts pulling out, and it is almost painful the threat of being empty leaving you desperate, grinding down to try and keep her inside you, but she pushes back in, just a second faster this time and you moan unabashedly.
"f-fuck-" she starts up a rhythm, pulling out of you, then pushing back in, each time a second faster than the last.
you rub your clit, faster, harder, pulling on your nipple, switching to the other one to make sure both were attended to, you've never been built up this quickly. even when you were masturbating you had taken her advice and teased yourself for at least an hour before you got anywhere close to cumming.
you crave her, eyes lidded watching the way the veins in her arms become a little more visible when she thrusts in a little harder. you can hear the examination table shaking under you, you can't keep still at all, trying to meet her on each thrust, the tools and materials clattering about loudly. the possibility that someone could hear you outside flies across your mind but you can barely give it a second thought, in fact, it turns you on even more knowing that you were getting fucked by the most gorgeous doctor that you've been obsessed with the last fortnight, and on the other side of the door everyone was just going about their regular days, having no idea the heights of pleasure she was bringing you to.
"o-oh s-sana oh my god- holy fuck-"
"hmm? good?"
"yes yes so good- oh my god you feel so good inside me i'm gonna- oh fuck-"
"do you mind if i..."
you look down at her, vision a little blurry but you can tell she's asking to do something, "yes yes oh god- whatever- you can do whatever you want to me- oh fuck-"
you feel a soft hand come to rest on your stomach, sliding down to just a little below your belly button, and then it presses down just gently, "oh fuck!" your hips jolt upwards, pleasure running up your spine.
sana stops the pressure but keeps her hand on your lower stomach, "was that okay?"
"god yes- oh sana you're gonna make me cum please-"
so she presses down again, a little harder this time, and you feel the coil in you snap, white enroaching your vision, your thighs shaking, head tilted back, a high-pitched gasp leaving your mouth, feeling completely breathless.
sana waits for you to come down patiently, helping you through your orgasm, continuing her thrusts into your cunt but slower and much gentler.
eventually, you feel your back and hips meet the surface of the examination table under you again, breathing heavily and opening your eyes slowly.
sana's moved next to you, brushing strands of hair out of your face, you preen into her touch. but the next thing she does has you clenching tightly around the dildo that's still inside you. she brings her fingers to her mouth, sucking them in and making a show of wrapping her tongue around them. "exquisite."
you blush, clenching your thighs together at the sight.
she gives you a slow once-over again, before exhaling shakily and turning away, moving to the sink to clean up a little. you struggle a little to sit up, still recovering from your mind-shaking orgasm, and you're about to pull the dildo out of you when she speaks up again, still with her back turned to you.
"keep it inside you. that'll be your homework task for the next fortnight until our next session." she turns around, seeming to have collected herself a little better, her eyes fixed only on your face, purposely avoiding the rest of your body.
you sluggishly start to clean yourself up, wincing a little each time you accidentally move the dildo inside you.
"so you are able to come from penetration, you don't have to worry about that. and it's normal that you need some clitoral or other stimulation to be able to orgasm, often just penetration isn't enough. for the next fortnight i want you to continue masturbating, but i want you to practice leaving a dildo inside yourself afterwards, so your vaginal muscles get used to the feeling of something being inside. you can slowly work your way up the sizes, just don't push yourself and make sure you stop if it starts becoming too painful."
you nod, trying to bring your breathing back to a normal pace while you slip your clothes back on.
"alright. were there any other concerns you wanted to talk about?"
you shake your head, coming to a stand.
"okay. you can make the next appointment with the receptionist out front. i'll see you in 2 weeks y/n."
you nod, again, walking out the door when she opens it for you, but turning back before she can close it catching her a little by surprise, "thank you sana. i look forward to seeing you again soon." your voice is still a little scratchy but sana blushes, pursing her lips and nodding, closing the door after you.
you sigh a little dreamily, feeling more blissed out than you've been in a long time.
❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
this continues between the two of you for a few months.
you loved teasing sana and getting her out of her professional state. once you had worn lingerie under your coat to see her. you laugh remembering the way her eyes widened and her jaw dropped as soon as you took off your coat when you were in the privacy of her office. you'd let her fuck you however she wanted, and then you'd use each new experience to get you off during the fortnight that she'd give you new exercises, all increasing in intensity to help build you up to being able to take an average sized penis.
your favourite one to think about was that week that ben started complaining about how you'd been seeing sana for so long that surely you'd be able to take him by now. he insisted on coming to your next appointment but he was forced to sit outside and wait for you. little did he know you were on the other side of the door, a hand clamped over your mouth, the other holding you up against the door with your breasts pressed against it while sana railed into you from behind. of course she kept harnesses in her office. she had said they were mainly there for educational purposes, to show people how to put one on properly so it was safe and wasn't hurting anyone, it was just an added benefit that she also used them to pound into you with increasing dildo sizes each fortnight.
you lean onto your elbows while you watch her wash off the dildo she had just used on you. it was the biggest one yet and you're still fluttering a little remembering the way it filled you up while you rode her.
"what?" she turns around, drying off the dildo and slipping it back into your bag, pulling her shirt back on.
"just think you're nice to look at."
she rolls her eyes playfully, "shut up y/n."
you wiggle your eyebrows, "make me."
she glances at you, narrowing her eyes a little but making no effort to move closer, "as if you could go another round. you came so hard just then."
you giggle and sigh in satisfaction, resting your cheek on a hand, "i did. you're so good at what you do."
sana hums, finishing getting dressed and looking semi-presentable, settling back into her seat, but her expression changes a little while she studies you.
"what's up?"
"... have you tried having sex again with your boyfriend?"
"i told you i haven't."
she hums again, mind drifting elsewhere and you shrug, sitting up and starting to clean yourself up. "you can try now y'know? you were able to take that dildo and that's pretty much the average size of a penis already. unless he's bigger than that...?"
you scoff, shuffling into your pants, "no. he's actually smaller than the one you just used on me."
"then you should try having sex again."
you pull your shirt over your head, thinking over what she's saying. instead of sitting down in your own seat you climb into her lap, her arms wrapping around you automatically, hands gripping your waist while you make yourself comfortable. "doesn't that mean i won't be able to see you anymore?"
sana chuckles a little emptily, "i'm your sex therapist y/n. you knew this was going to end eventually."
"yeah but you don't fuck your other clients do you?"
sana laughs then, you feast in the sound. "no, no i don't."
"good. i was actually thinking..."
"hm?" she brings a hand up to your cheek, brushing slightly.
"would you... i don't know... like... i think about you when i get off yeah but i also think about you like... all the time..."
"mhm."
"so i was wondering if... i don't know if you felt the same if you wanted to like hang out outside of here? and like i don't mean to have sex i mean like go on a date maybe...?" you're shy, bringing this question up, blushing and avoiding her eyes.
"you have a boyfriend y/n." she deadpans.
"well yeah but i was thinking of breaking up with him anyway. now that you're bringing up having sex with him again i don't want that, and i don't want to stop seeing you. i guess just- just the threat that this all might be over soon- well i don't want it to be over. i like you sana." you say a little more firmly this time, meeting her eyes with decisiveness.
sana smiles then, all eyes, leaning in to peck you gently, "come back in a fortnight and we'll see. if you're no longer with him then... maaaybe i'll let you take me out."
your eyes brighten at her response, jumping out of her lap with excitement, "really?! oh my god i'll call him right now and do it-" you're reaching for your phone in your bag when she laughs, pulling you back into her
"don't do it over the phone silly. not even he deserves that."
you pout a little but it’s quickly wiped away when sana kisses you, lips slotting perfectly against yours with practiced ease. you sigh into her, addicted to the feeling, the taste, the smell of her. it was probably the easiest decision of your life, choosing your sex therapist over your boyfriend.
#sana#twice sana#minatozaki sana#sana x reader#twice x reader#sana smut#twice smut#sana imagines#twice imagines#twice sana x reader#twice sana smut#dovveri
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In the future when they meet again, does sero ever find a way to make amends? Does he explain what he was going through?
He enters the room with your name on his lips.
You still push up your glasses the same way you always did - your palms on the bottom of the frames- and Sero kicks himself for not seeing it earlier. You've changed, of course. Ten years have passed, but your eyes are the same. The downward curve of your lips and the round of your nose: it's all unmistakably you. When you push away from your desk, it's with a confidence you never had back then, and it almost makes him smile.
"Who told you it was me?" you ask. "Eijiro?"
"No," he says. "I remembered all on my own."
It's only a half lie. Bakugo had called you Cram School and the memories had flooded back. The late night anime sessions, the whispered confessions-
The way he ghosted out of your life without warning.
"What do you want, Sero?" you sigh. "How did you even find me?"
Sero had called for a couple favors to track you down. Luckily, you worked with Uraraka's organization now, as a therapist. All those nights at cram school really did work out; you're a doctor, apparently.
"I just-" He breathes in to center himself, hands jammed in his pockets. "I wanted to say I'm sorry. For just--"
"Leaving me?"
"Yeah." The takes that blow in stride, despite the sting. "For disappearing on you."
"Okay." You lean back in your chair, legs crossed. "I don't forgive you."
"Good. Right. Yeah." That hurts worse. "You shouldn't."
You sit there, hands folded, in silence, watching from over your glasses in silence. He wonders when you got so serious, how you lost that sparkle in your eye. Then, he wonders if he even has the right to know.
"I was a fucked up kid, I was going through a lot." Sero steps forward. "My dad was really -"
You interject. "Sorry, I don't offer therapy for anyone over the age of eighteen. Try Dr. Yun down the hall."
Fuck. God, you're witty. You always manage to steal the wind from his sails with a single cut.
"I'm not trying to-" He huffs, trying to remember to advice his actual therapist gave him. "I just want things to be right between us."
"To make yourself feel better?"
"No, because it's the right thing to do when you hurt someone."
This time, you're the one left silent. Your expression goes softer, wider, like you're genuinely surprised.
"I don't need you to forgive me. I don't think you should forgive me," Sero says. "I just want you to be okay."
He takes a half step in, then a full. Then you don't kick him out, he goes directly to your desk.
"Here. I got this for you. Back in high school." He places a little box in front of you, its label faded and partially ripped from time. "I messed up before I had the chance to give it to you."
It takes you a moment to process what's in front of you. It's a little pink figure, maybe a little less than pristine, but still standing there, arms splayed. The sure look on your face starts to drift, falling down, down-
"She's your favorite, right?" Sero urges.
Your expression doesn't get better. No, you look seasick, your legs suddenly untucked and your arms gripping your stomach.
"She's-" he falters. "You like Flora, I thought, was I-?"
"Get out of my office." Your voice is softer now too, closer to what he remembers.
"I thought you'd like it."
"Get out."
He backs up a step, hoping you'll change your mind. When you don't, he retreats down the hall, unsure of whether he did something right or not.
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What are their kinks?
18+, minors do not interact
A tarot reading regarding your (sexual) partner - your current one (asking about their permission would be in good taste), or next one, or the most important one, or your future spouse... Whatever you prefer.
Pictures are from Perfect Blue.
REMEMBER
I’m not a doctor, a psychiatrist, a therapist nor a psychologist. Divination will never replace meetings with them.
It’s a general reading, so not everything will resonate.
If you can’t choose between two piles, probably both of them have some messages for you. You can also not identify with any of them, and that’s okay, too.
Readings can help you make a decision, but they shouldn’t be the main reason for making it.
1 ~ 2
3 ~ 4
PILE 1
The Hanged Man R - Knight of Wands - Five of Swords - Back of the Deck: Ten of Cups R
What popped in my mind when looking at the Hanged Man in reverse is that your person may like light bondage and/or pleasant to the touch fabrics. Some sensual undergarments, maybe. Moreover, the character on the card in this position brings a person having an orgasm to my mind, with their head thrown back and the general body position, which makes me think your person may like to look at their partner when they climax. I also feel like they may like to be in control; they don’t enjoy “hanging down”, doing nothing, being passive. When it comes to Knight of Wands, the meaning is pretty clear. They love experimenting. They most likely have high libido and treat sex like an adventure. Next, when I looked at Five of Wands, it came to my mind they can be into people crying, like when someone cries a little from overstimulation, for example (the card shows an eye, and it looks like a teardrop runs from it). They may also be into SM or makeup sex, as the card is often about disagreement, conflicts, winning at all costs, or defeat. For some, they may be even into CNC, though this obviously is a pretty specific kink. Lastly, there is a bottle of vodka on the Ten of Cups card (in this position of the card it is turned upside down, as if something was about to be poured from it), so they can like going at it while drunk. The card may suggest your person finds non-traditional relationships appealing. For some, the card is about how this person is into these different things I mentioned but doesn’t really act on it. As a last note, I think that for quite a lot of you, this is ONS or FWB. There’s also a chance your person can be kinda self-centered when it comes to sex. That won’t be the case for everyone, obviously, but I’m writing it down. Overall, this person looks like someone who likes having fun with sex and experimenting, and most likely is rather dominant.
PILE 2
The Devil R - The Empress - Knave of Wands - Back of the Deck: The Magician
So many Major Arcana, as well as many female/feminine-presenting characters. It makes me think that, first, they fantasize about this wonderful, life-changing sex, and second, they either are very into femininity or like to lean into it themselves. I also feel like I have a lot of queer people here, especially sapphics. And if they aren’t a woman, your person still either presents feminine (and they do so out of their own choice, as a form of expression) or they wish they could. Cross-dressing may be a kink of some here, I think. There is at least one guy here (bonus points if cis and straight) who would love to be called a princess or a babygirl lol. I don’t know, I get pretty light, positive, maybe even a little playful vibes from this pile. Like, there are some himbos here, or people who hope for something good, and there’s something pure about the way they see the world. But okay, let’s stay on topic! This person of yours for sure wants to release limiting beliefs and rules, they want to experiment with sex and have fun, the Devil in reverse says it all. The Empress is all about feeling powerful in one’s femininity, and it’s either about them wanting to feel like a princess or queen or about having a partner like this. Your person is a Knave of Wands, looking with a smile into the future, free-spirited and having so many ideas they aren’t sure where to start. The Magician at the back says they manifest all this and are ready to try the whole new world that opens up to them. For most of you, this person isn’t really experienced, or maybe they were always vanilla until recently. Your person here isn’t as dirty as some other piles, they’re most likely still in the phase of finding out what exactly they like, but oh, they’ll have fun with it.
PILE 3
The Fool - The Lovers R - Queen of Pentacles R - Back of the Deck: Nine of Wands
The Fool in this deck is so flamboyant that I instantly thought “Someone’s into twinks” lol. The Fool in the card winks, looks as if he were sending a kiss to the viewer, and dances confidently, proud of his body. The Fool is the card of new beginnings, of having the power of freedom to experience the world. The Lovers in reverse look to me like people hugging and cuddling while lying on the ground, on grass. Actually, all the cards show some place outside (aside from one card, which has a one-color background), and especially with the way The Lovers look here for me, I think your person may like the idea of outdoor sex. Moreover, because the card is reversed, your person may fantasize about having many suitors and having the ability to choose - or to not choose at all. The card also suggests imbalance, so your person can be into sexual power dynamics where one person is stronger than the other - so some BDSM dynamics, or some other role play. Moving on, we have the reversed Queen of Pentacles. The card presents a woman with long, glorious hair in bold but sensual attire. Actually, with the way The Fool and Queen of Pentacles look in this deck, I believe your person may find it hot when someone has revealing clothing or some nice undergarments. I think it’s sexy for them when not everything is visible or visible well, they find it tempting and alluring. With the reversed Queen of Pentacles, I think they are into independent people who know their value. Nine of Wands suggest they want to do it long. They also want something to be left after the experience: either just fatigue, or bite marks, or bruises, or red traces (think slapping someone’s ass, either with a hand or a toy, like a paddle). And now that I think about it, for quite many of you this is about a (sexual) relationship they would like. The reversed Lovers in the center describes the power-dynamic, and The Fool and the reversed Queen of Pentacles show what kind of lovers we talk about. There’s this Queen of Pentacles who has seen some shit, and despite that, or maybe especially because of that, they find something very alluring about the Fool being an enthusiastic, confident novice. The character of Queen of Pentacles actually looks older than The Fool. Your person may like age-gaps, or like to call someone/be called “mommy” (other variants of the name, based on the gender of people involved, are also possible, of course, “mommy” simply is the strongest here). Think about which description you fit more (either in life or just in bed) - The Fool or the reversed Queen of Pentacles. Your person is the other one.
PILE 4
The World - Nine of Swords - Four of Cups - Back of the Deck: King of Wands
The World is pretty straightforward here - they fantasize about this perfect sex, which is an almost spiritual experience; one that brings the feeling of completion, of being happy. For some reason I also think about this kind of sex where you extend the experience, having long, calm pleasure (like a person with vulva sitting on the dick of another person and just squeezing and relaxing their muscles, maybe sometimes moving a few times, just to keep it hard - that’s just an example, of course). Tantric sex. Next, with these Nine of Swords, I think your person likes the idea of someone dreaming about them or not being able to sleep because they think about them (maybe because they’re touching while thinking about your person), they find it hot. Your person may really love the idea of someone finding them so attractive, they get anxious or shy about it. The image also shows handcuffs, so maybe your person is into that. This card in the deck I used for the reading looks happier and more peaceful than its most traditional imagery, and when I look at it, I’m thinking about some romantic gestures like giving flowers. Color-wise, this card and The World both are pink and purple, and have this peaceful vibe about them. It kinda looks like the person portrayed in Nine of Swords dreams about this fantastic sex life, but they’re just lying alone in their bed. On the back we have King of Wands, which represents a passionate lover, and a good one at that. Not just good. Exceptional. For some of you, this is who your person aspires to be, but I think that for more of you, your person fantasizes about someone like this. Your person gives me the vibe of someone who dreams big; they’re into these romantic, maybe a little obsessive scenarios. Of course, it is still just a scenario they like to think about, it doesn’t mean they want to actually be with someone obsessive. Overall, I think that for most of you, this person is more on the submissive side, and they like all these classic scenarios from romance/romantasy/smut books or fics. Another thing for most of you which I see, is that your person probably doesn't have a lot of experience, but they definitely think about sex and romance, and hope for a chance to experience them.
#divination#pick a picture#pick a card#pick a card reading#cartomancy#general reading#tarot reading#free tarot reading#pick a pile#18+ mdni#mdni#18+ tarot#tarot 18+#tarot community#future spouse tarot#future spouse
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It’s been done in every which way but Eddie being in an accident of some kind that leaves him paralyzed, but his doctors believe he could walk again with intense physical therapy
He’s stubborn and absolutely hasn’t dealt with any of the trauma of the accident and takes it out on his physical therapist, Steve, who is used to patients being pretty angry about their situation
He always meets Eddie where he is though, tries to keep a smile on his face and joke when appropriate and even shares his cookies from his lunchbox with him
Eventually, Eddie starts making some progress, but instead of being happy about it, he panics and cancels all his PT appointments for the week
Steve tries calling, texting, emailing, doing everything he can to encourage him to keep going, but it all goes unanswered until Gareth, one of Eddie’s closest friends, calls him on Eddie’s phone
He’s depressed and he won’t get out of bed, he’s given up. He’s tired of being in pain and having to try to so hard just to move his damn legs a little
Steve isn’t usually this personal with clients, and tells Gareth he can’t discuss anything medical with him due to patient confidentiality, but insists he should try to drag him to the office the next day before it opens
And somehow, probably through guilt, Gareth manages to wheel a very sullen and grumpy Eddie into the side door entrance to the office at seven in the morning
Steve tells him to come back in an hour to pick him up and Eddie ignores the goodbye Gareth says to him
And Steve pretends nothing is wrong at all, goes through the usual temperature and blood pressure check, asks how he’s feeling and gets a grunt in response, asks if there’s any pain and gets an eye roll
But Eddie met his match in Steve because Steve then pushes him to the center of the workout room, where a large mat is out and a walker is set to the side
“What’s that?”
“Your walker.”
“I don’t need one seeing as I can’t fucking walk.”
“You are today.”
And Steve knows he’s pushing and he hates being pushy
But he knows what his clients are capable of, and he knows without a single doubt in his mind that Eddie is ready to use the walker for five to ten minute increments. He has the leg strength and the stubbornness, he just needs the belief in himself
“Do you want me to hurt myself worse?”
“Of course not. And if you get tired, the seat on the walker is right there. But you can walk and you will walk.”
“And if I call Gareth to come get me right now?”
“Then I don’t believe my services are of value to you anymore and I’ll wish you the best.”
It pained Steve to say it because he knew he was fucking good at what he did, maybe the best in town. His clients often had to wait for his availability to open for weeks or months at a time because of how many people were referred to him
But he said the right thing because Eddie huffed, groaned, and cursed under his breath before wheeling himself to the edge of the mat to hold onto the walker
He pulled himself up
His legs were shaking from not being used for the last few days more than the bare minimum, but his determination was clear
Steve slowly pulled the chair away as Eddie unlocked the brakes of the walker and glared at Steve as he took one step, then two
Sure, he was relying pretty heavily on the walker, maybe more than Steve would’ve liked to see, but he was moving
He made it across the mat and then locked the brakes, sat down on the pad on the walker, and gave a sarcastic grin to Steve
“Happy?”
“Are you?”
And maybe Eddie wasn’t ready to be asked that because he was suddenly sobbing, covering his face as tears flowed down his cheeks
Steve gave him a few seconds before moving to kneel in front of him, pulling his hands away
“You deserve to have your life back, Eddie. You’ve been lucky to have the chance to walk again. Let’s not waste it, okay?”
Eddie spent the rest of the session walking across the mat and taking breaks every two minutes or so
It was better than Steve even expected, but he reminded Eddie not to do too much at once
Eddie didn’t miss any more appointments with Steve, and every appointment, he seemed to be more charming and flirty, more like “the old Eddie” according to Gareth, who drove him most days
Steve never admitted it out loud, but he knew what he felt for Eddie was different from other clients. It felt more personal, and it felt like it could be more someday
When Eddie graduated to a cane, Steve’s services were officially no longer needed
And Eddie decided that he should probably take Steve out on a date
“Since I can walk and hold your hand now,” he winked.
Steve should say no, but he doesn’t
Because holding Eddie’s hand feels even more right as his boyfriend than it did as his physical therapist
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#headcanon#physical therapist Steve#idk going through my notes on things I’ll never have time to actually write#but maybe someone else does#I’m literally ignoring work so hard right now#I’m just tired!!!!#im just a girl who doesn’t wanna work anymore!!!!#cw: injury#cw: mention of accident
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Hiatus Notice
Hi all, didn't want to make this post on my birthday, but I do need to do it now: I'm going to need to take a hiatus from drawing due to my wrist being hurt again.
Anyone who watches my streams knows that I still try and do my stretches while working all the time, so getting hurt again so badly that I can't work at all is nothing short of completely devastating to me. I have spent most of my time crying nonstop about it. All I can do now is the proper next steps...stop and rest, talk to my doctor about it, and hopefully get any physical or massage therapy I need so that I can recover and get back to work ASAP.
I don't know what my timetable for recovery would be right now, but I'm really hoping it's not as long as last time. I just know I won't be able to share any art until I'm better and can draw regularly again.
This just sucks because I already feel like I've been slow at things, and I had multiple things in the works...Eldritchrune comics, and also a project I was working on for the next anniversary. I apologize that it's going to be a wait before I can share any art again...even once I get back into drawing, my job still comes first.
I will update here more once I hopefully know what to do from my doctor, and I can still answer asks, but no art for awhile. I'm so sorry about the wait...trust me when I say this is my biggest nightmare, and I've been an emotional wreck about it.
And artists: please learn from my miseries and take care of yourselves, especially if you draw professionally. Take breaks, stretch frequently, drink lots of water, do NOT overwork, listen to your body, listen to your doctors and therapists. The world doesn't treat us as such, especially nowadays, but you are athletes. Take care of your body the same way an athlete would.
Thanks again for your patience.
#wrist health#...again#what a way to start my 40s#I may take the time to at least work on ER scripts for future comics and the ending in the meanwhile#since I can at least type (slowly) with my left hand#but do need to mostly rest...
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gentle touch
könig x massage therapist!reader kinktober countdown day 5 (body worship)
synopsis: oh, the military boys were your favourite.
wc: 2.8k
cw: massage therapist reader doing bad medical-ish practice, body worship, light sub!konig, mentions of edging, hand jobs, a little oral as a treat, biting, konig being petnamed as he should (honey), size kink, hints at touch starvation, groping, begging, uncut konig, afab!reader, no gendered pronouns or language.
author's note: i know his dick hex code and it's glorious. mdni.
He’s your last appointment of the day. And what a fucking day it had been, ten hours that should’ve been eight, cinnamon scented candles instead of eucalyptus, a rushed lunch because a client had shown up early, not taking “I’m on break” for an answer.
You knock on the faux bamboo door, waiting for your appointment to allow you entry. When he does, so quietly you almost miss it, you open the door, only for your eyes to land on a broad, strong back, still wrapped in a dark grey long sleeve. He turns slightly, just enough for you to see the thin stubble on his chin, cheek and jaw.
"Hello! I didn't catch you undressing did I?" This time he turns all the way around and you are sure your swallow is audible. Hell, you hope it's audible, you want this dude to know just how impressed you are with what you're seeing.
"No." He shakes his head, rubbing his aquiline nose against the inside of his wrist. It must’ve been broken once before, if the uneven bump on his bridge is anything to go by. Why is that hot? That shouldn’t be hot. You eat up the motion, eyes tracking every twitch or movement of his massive arms.
“Oh…" you're ogling him. You need to stop ogling him. "I actually need you to strip down.” The words burn on your tongue. You must say that a thousand times a work week, but this time, when you say it to him, it sounds…dirty. Like a shitty porn set up. Makes your clean white polo feel vacuum sealed to your skin. He takes a step towards you and you shudder a breath, tensing until you realize he’s getting closer to the lockers to your left.
He’s huge, you think, and when he still doesn’t look up at you, content to let the strands of dark brown hair, nearly black hair, hang in his face, you figure he’s shy too.
Cute.
“And you can use the towel to maintain modesty, Mr. König.” You get the inflection of his name wrong, you know because you’d googled it prior, held your phone to your ear in the staff washroom and listened to a soft spoken German man lilt it to you. There’s a hard ‘g’ on the end where it shouldn’t be, and you apologize, trying again to master it. “König.”
“Right.” He murmurs, “Just around my waist, yes?”
Or it could go on the floor and I could rub my clit on your abs.
“Yes, sir. Around your waist.”
You exit the room, closing it softly behind you. You figure you’ll use the few minutes you have to get a bottle of water, or a sedative. Something strong enough to bring you back down to your customary professional detachment.
When you return, he’s where you expect him to be. Face down on his stomach, his head in the cushioned hole. “S-sorry.” He speaks, voice muffled by his position. The apology comes immediately upon the sound of the door closing and you worry his large frame has cracked the massage table or something. You peer around him, looking for any chunks of polished wood or loose screws.
When you don’t find anything you realize he’s apologizing for his scars, the pit marks of bullets dug out in haste and healed with spite, lacerations haphazardly stitched, then redone a second time with the careful, practiced hands of a doctor in no rush.
“Oh, please don’t be. We get military boys all the time. Nothing I haven’t seen before.” You murmur, and it’s a lie of course. Not that you’ve seen scars, of course, you’ve seen some really storied skin in your time here, being near a base and all. No, it was the man who was an oddity. Mandy at the front desk told you that he’d had to duck through the front door.
His skin is also ultra pale in a way military men usually aren't. Near transparent, the sprawling blue lines of his veins thread underneath his skin, and you can see yourself getting distracted tracing some of the pathways with your fingers.
He hums, and you hope you’ve put him at ease a little bit. You haven’t even touched him yet and the tension in his back is glaring. Anxious people tended to hold a lot of stress, anxious soldiers? You’re just glad he’d booked a two hour instead of the customary hour and twenty.
The oil is cold straight from the bottle and you warm it between your palms before you make contact. He’s warm to the touch, bridging on hot, and he flinches when your hands meet his skin. “Was that too cold?” He groans, but doesn’t affirm or deny it, so you figure it must just be the contact. Slowly, you begin with his calves, tending to and pushing on knotted muscle and tense areas, working out kink after kink, soothing his compounded aches. The oil smoothes down his leg hair and you must be going insane because even that is hot to you. His thighs are even worse, strong and muscled and dimpled in the sweetest places. He shivers when your palms glide over his inner thighs, and he clenches them together when your fingers brush the hem of the towel shielding his ass from your greedy view. As quickly as it happens, he relaxes, murmuring another apology. You hum your own response, and push your thumb into an adorable cluster of moles you see just under the towel.
By the time you get to his lower back, König is almost purring, his gentle breathing often interrupted by drawn out, guttural moans. Whines and whimpers that make your blood hot. He’s holding the worst of his tension there, and you have to lean almost all your body weight into the motions of the massage. His hips jerk up and then down just as sharply when you crest your palm over her shoulder blades, and you don’t imagine the keening noise he makes as he grips the massage table. You’re used to military clients being a lot more stoic but it seems Mr. König is most assuredly not the sort. You reach his neck, framing his throat with your palms and using your thumbs to rub firm circles into his nape. His breath hitches and you find yourself cooing. “Breathe for me, I got you.” The soldier’s hips snap downward again, this time hard enough to shift the table beneath him. Which is more than enough to make you pause.
No.
It couldn’t be.
The soft music and sound of the water feature on the wall nearly drown out the curse König whispers, but you catch it, and can’t stop your lips from curling into a pleased little smile. This was just too good. You start to finish up his neck, brushing some of his hair out of the way so you can rub your fingertips into the skin just below his earlobes. You guide him to turn over and when he doesn’t respond, you wonder if he’d fallen asleep.
“Mr. König?”
He makes a wordless groaning noise low in his throat, laying motionless.
“I need you to turn over, honey.” You don’t even realize you’ve pet-named a grown man you don’t know. Which is just as well, because it seems to be what the soldier needs, and he rises from the table, clutching the towel in a tight fist to maintain his scant modesty.
You turn towards the side table, pouring more oil into your palm. When you return to face him, you witness why exactly he was so reluctant to face the ceiling.
He’s at least half-hard, a very noticeable ridge lifting his towel. You can’t stop staring at it, even though you know König is trying his best to ignore it. You circle around him, and begin at the foot of the table, going through the massage cycle again; feet, calves, thighs, arms. You zone out, following through your motions, listening to the man beneath groan and sigh his contentment. You reach his chest, spreading your hands over his pecs. They’re big, just like the rest of him, you think and it’s hard not to fucking drool on him. He’s firm but soft, still pleasantly warm, despite being exposed to slightly below room temperature air. He shifts again when you hit a stubborn knot right below his collarbone, and you pause to check in.
“Still good?”
His breathing is uneven, shuddering and laboured. His hands clench and relax from white knuckled fists.
“Yes.” he hisses through gritted teeth, and you’re worried he’s undoing every bit of relaxation you’ve tried to bring him. It’s painfully clear where the stress is coming from, hidden underneath a paltry white towel, the enticing elephant in the room. You put your hands back on him.
Still got 45 minutes left, after all.
You try your best not to look smug, and you fail miserably.
Every stroke and rub you perform across his chest makes his cock jerk and twitch under the towel. You can practically see the cloudy drops of precum that’d be beading as his tip. Your thumb nail skates across his pectoral and catches his nipple and the whine he makes is so sweet you just have to do it again. Soon, you’re barely massaging him, groping the poor man under the guise of your job. A weak grunt snaps you out of your reverie, and when you glance down his abdomen at that godforsaken towel, you can’t stop the quiet gasp of shock you release at his erection. “Ah, I’m so sorry. Very sorry” His flush spreads from his cheeks all the way down to his chest, a gorgeous stewed cherry colour that overwhelms the pale skin you’d worked into submission. His eyes are screwed shut when you can bear to drag your eyes from his cock to his face. His soft, pink mouth is pulled down at the corners, and the heavy, dark slashes of his eyebrows are furrowed together, creating a wrinkle between them you want to smooth out with a kiss.
“It happens all the time. Are you alright to continue?” Your voice is deceptively calm, serene and soft, when all you really want to do is snatch the towel off the battering ram he’d smuggled in here. Your blood thrums, and you ache at the sight of it, at the mere thought of the ungodly stretch he’d put you through.
You will yourself to keep your hands where they are, force yourself to look literally anywhere else. The faux waterfall ahead of you, the wireless speaker droning pleasant, melodic mood music, fuck, you even try staring at the dimmed light fixtures hanging from the ceiling. But every cry and whine forces your eyes down, tempts you to catalogue every inch of flushed skin and threaded muscle. You gnaw on your own lip, and find your hands drifting down, back around his abdomen. You’ve worked through the area already, there is no excuse to be down there, to slip your finger tips under the towel, to push your digits into the skin around his pelvis. “Is this okay?” You have the gall to ask, when you push your fingers lower still, and basically sign your own severance package. Oh but it’d be worth it, to get what you want, to make this big strong man sob with pleasure, to have his mouth on your throat while you stroked him to completion. The memory of his cock in your hand will keep you warm in the unemployment line.
König nods, turns his head towards you but doesn’t open his eyes. His hips cant upwards again, and his towel shifts, parting to reveal his angry, desperate hard-on. He raises a hand from the massage table, letting his mammoth paw land on your hip. He squeezes you, and exhales sharply through his nose when his thumb touches your bare skin, skating over your flesh underneath your work shirt. “Say it.” You mutter and his eyes crack open, just wide enough for you to spot the crystalline blue of his irises between his inky black lashes.
“Please.”
And that’s all you need.
He’s uncut, and the veins blanketing the length of his cock are visible under his foreskin. Pretty in a way you aren’t used to, a denser blush than the rest of his body, but still quite pale. It feels like your hand is moving in slow motion towards it, your fingers twitching in anticipation. The heat of his dick warms your skin before you even make contact, and when you do, wrapping your fingers around the root of it, your fingertips can’t touch. You press your lips together and try not to squeal happily, glee crinkling your eyes.
God is real and he’s an uncircumcised cock on a shy giant.
König’s erection is searingly hot. Soft skin and hard core, jerking in your palm, leaking steadily, nudging at your hand, insistent. Your brain is working full steam and connections necessary to utilize common sense are still not being made. Slowly, you tighten your hold on him, the weight of it is so imposing, you wouldn’t be surprised if imprints of the veiny surface were branded onto your hand once you withdrew. If you ever withdrew. You should fucking withdraw.
You do not withdraw. Instead, you slide your hand up slowly, choking up on the head of his cock before dragging your grip back down. You chance a glance up at his face, watching his Adam’s apple bob with each laboured swallow. The poor man’s jaw clenches and relaxes while you slide your palm over his flesh again and again. Somehow, he hardens further and your eyes widen impossibly larger, the pit of your stomach doing somersaults at the idea of where you want that thing to go, what you want it to do. You get fevered flashes of König bending you over the massage table in your mind, hands on your hips, rutting without sense or logic into you, so hard the surface scrapes against the floor, all while he sobs, his overwhelmed, overstimulated tears splashing against your back while he rearranged your insides. The head of his cock is exposed every time you slide your hand down towards his pelvis. By the third peek, you’re dragging the pointed end of your tongue over the tip of his dick, licking against his head, and coating your mouth with the taste of him. He grips at your side harder, his fingers digging into your hip as he chases the warmth of your mouth. He keens loud, almost mewling when you pull off him, using your spit to ease your hand’s path. By this point, your handiwork is audible, noisy and wet, König’s voice filling the small room. You use your free hand to guide his head to your chest, letting him bend toward you, press his nose into your tits while he begs for you to finish him.
“Are you gonna come, Mr. König?” You thread your fingers in his hair, letting your nails scratch against his scalp, drift down to his nape and up to his crown again.
“Yes, please, please. Fuck.” His voice is reedy and thin, and he wraps his arm around your waist, burying his face deeper in your chest. And then his whole body trembles, and his hips roll towards you, and for a fleeting minute you consider edging the poor bastard, sliding your hand completely off his cock and watching it twitch violently, uselessly in the air.
But he begs so sweetly. And his next session was already pre-booked.
The hand you kept on his head leaves his hair, and you rub the head of his cock with your flat open palm, jerking him off with firm, fast strokes. He bites down on the curve of your breast, and you’re grateful he still managed to retain enough brain cells to not break skin.
“Do it then. Come, honey.” You trill, feeling his tears wet your skin through your shirt. It’s almost instantaneous, so fast it’s kind of impressive. His body goes bowstring-tight, and he squeezes you so hard it almost hurts. Ropes of sticky white seed shoot from his cock, covering your hand and his spasming abdomen. You slide your hand up, milking just the first two inches of him through his orgasm, until he stops your movements himself, covering your hand with his own.
When you finally break contact, you stare at your hand for what feels like ages, thick beads of his cum rolling down your palm, sliding to your wrist. You extricate yourself from his hold, using your clean hand to brush his sweat damp hair from his forehead. You press that kiss you wanted to the space between his brows. Why start restraining yourself now? His body shivers periodically, and you turn to the sink, to wash your hands clean, clenching your own thighs together, his moans and sighs echoing in your mind. You turn to face him, grinning wide and cheery,
“So...I’ll see you next week?”
hoe, you are getting fired! at least you got a man outta it though.
support city girls who love gummy worms, reblog what you like.
find the rest of the masterlist here.
#konig x reader#k��nig x reader#konig x you#cod imagine#könig imagine#könig x you#konig mw2#konig x y/n#könig x y/n#konig x black reader#könig x black reader#konig x gn!reader#könig x gn reader#kinktober 2023#kechiwrites#kinktober countdown#cod x reader#cod fanfic#cod x gn!reader#cod x black reader#konig smut#konig fanfiction#könig smut
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Today was a bittersweet day – the last day of the three-month parental leave Steve had taken when their daughter Robbie was born before he headed back to his counseling job.
Eddie knows that Steve is feeling torn a few different ways about going back to work.
On the one hand, Steve loves his job, and he’d worked his ass off earning his doctorate so he could be a trauma therapist just like he’d planned. Kids had also been a part of his plan, obviously, but as more of an in addition to type of way, rather than instead of when it came to his career. Eddie knows this, and he knows that Steve is excited to go back, to reconnect with his patients after three months apart.
Eddie also knows that their kids are everything to Steve in a way his job will never be (duh), and Eddie had seen the way Steve refused to ignore the gravity of today – the last day he doesn’t have to share his time with anything other than their daughters.
Steve had been emotional about going back to work in a similar way the first time around with Moe, and he’d called home about eight or nine times during his first day back in the office, asking how things were going and if he’d missed anything. Now, Moe is two-and-a-half (and some change, if they’re being technical), and Robbie just hit the three-month mark a few days ago. This time, Steve had done his best to split his time between their two daughters, and it’s not all that different from their normal day-to-day, honestly, just…something heavier in the air, maybe.
Now, Moe’s all fresh and clean from her bath, her bangs slicked back with the rest of her damp hair (Steve had put on a whole show of planting kisses all over her forehead and saying, “is this where you’ve been hiding your brilliant brain from us?” which always sends Moe into giggling hysterics), and Steve’s got her all bundled up in a big fluffy towel, snuggling her close with one arm as he balances Robbie on his chest with the other, all of them piled into a rocking chair while Eddie sits stretched out on Robbie’s rug.
“I’m probably not gonna be home when you wake up tomorrow morning,” Steve tells Moe, and it’s not the first time he’s brought up this particular subject today, but, y’know…toddlers. Really gotta nail in the point sometimes with toddlers, “‘Cause I’m going back to work, so I have to leave early to drive into Boston.”
“Why do you hafta drive to Boston?” Moe asked.
“Because that’s where my office is. Remember a few weeks ago when we visited my office?”
“Yeah and they met Robbie.”
“That’s right,” Steve nodded, “Everyone I work with met Robbie. I got to take a break from work when Robbie was born, and now it’s time for me to go back.”
Moe’s eyebrows are furrowed.
“But…I don’t want you to go.”
“I know, bug,” he tells her, “I miss you and Robbie and Daddy like crazy when I’m not home with you.”
“So why don’t you take more break?”
“I sorta took all the break I’m allowed to, sweet pea. It’s time for me to go back to work.”
Eddie looks at Moe, sees the cogs turning in her little brain as she tries to figure out a way to convince her dad to stay home with her.
“But what if you just don’t work anymore?”
It’s a good question, Eddie knows, and she’s not the only one asking it.
Not too long after Robbie’s arrival, when Max and El had come to visit and meet the new baby, Max had privately asked Eddie if he thought Steve might throw in the towel on the whole career thing this time around. Again, it’s a fair question for anybody who really knows Steve, anybody who sees how much he loves their kids and how much he loves being a dad, even if Eddie knows the answer is no. Still, it’s a close no.
Steve hums sympathetically, “Maybe someday, but I like my job. I get to help people, and I worked hard in school to be able to do that. Someday you might decide you want to have a job where you do more school and get special degrees.”
“Like what kinds of jobs?”
“Like a doctor or a lawyer, or maybe you want to work in a lab and do research on something. It’s a big world, Moe, and you can do whatever you set your mind to."
"I want to be an astronaut," Moe tells them.
"Well, there you go."
"Or I wanna be a cookie."
"Oh-" Steve's eyebrows furrow as Eddie starts to laugh. "Alright..."
"That's my girl," Eddie says, "Astronaut or pastry. I like it."
#steve calls the house no less than ten times the next day#and despite this conversation moe still is piiiiiissed when she wakes up and finds out steve is gone#eddie: babe we talked about this#eddie: multiple times#look – moe likes her routine. she likes her and steve's early morning snuggles and she Did Not Appreciate the lack of warning#(she's a lil spectrum-y if it isn't obvious)#steddie#liv’s steddie dads verse#steddie dads#steve harrington#eddie munson
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