The worst-sounding piece of advice I've ever been given that does actually work is to frame your health concerns as coming from someone close to you, whom you do not believe. Tell your doctor that you've been having pain and your mom/friend/partner thinks it might be an ovarian cyst, but you don't think so because the pain is much more intense and it has to be something else. This gives your doctor an unseen third party to fight instead of you. They can't just tell this third party, who isn't present, that you pulled a muscle, they now need to prove to this third party that it is not an ovarian cyst.
At which point they will find an ovarian cyst, but they now get whatever fucked up satisfaction they derive out of proving you wrong, because you didn't believe it could a cyst at all, but guess what? They did find a cyst! It's such a good thing you didn't listen to your intuition and came to them to verify your lay diagnosis from that third party! Bonus? Doctor doesn't have to feel like they look stupid in front of a patient, which is really what all this is about. Not your health, why would you think your medical diagnosis is about your health? It's obviously about a doctor's potential ego.
And apparently this works. Apparently you just need to be able to always play 4D chess with your medical professionals in order to find an avenue of advocating for yourself and getting you medical needs met. Isn't that great?
Summary - What happens when the object of your fantasies discovers your fanfiction?
Warnings - NONCON, Kidnapping, Drugging. 18+ Only! My warnings are not extensive so enter at your own risk.
Word Count - 3.6k
You had taken yourself out of the house for a change of environment, that environment being a coffee shop in town, where you had ordered your favourite drink and settled at a table before pulling out your laptop and continuing with your story.
You immersed yourself in your fantasy world, plot flying through your fingers at speed while your drink got progressively more and more cold. You didn't care, you'd still drink it but you just had to get those sentences down before they flew out of your head.
It was your passion, writing fanfiction about your favourite hero, building an online following on your blog from like minded people who enjoyed the fantasy of placing themselves in your stories.
You were so focused on what you were doing that when a shadow fell over your form and a voice spoke, you didn't even lift your gaze from your screen, fingers still flying across the keyboard rapidly.
"Hey do you mind if I sit here? Everywhere else is full." Came a low sultry voice.
"Sure." You muttered quickly as you typed.
"Thanks." The voice replied and you just about registered the scrape of the chair opposite and a figure dropping down into the seat.
"No problem." You mumbled once more, gaze still firmly on the screen.
"What are you working on?" The voice asked.
You bit your lip, fingers stilling on the keypad as you skimmed over your previous sentence, now making no sense to you after the stranger's question scattered your thoughts.
"Oh it's nothing.." You breathed as you tried to remember what you were writing, "A story....fantasy stuff."
"Sounds interesting." The voice said.
"Mmhmm." You hummed in annoyance, wishing he would just shut up so you could concentrate.
"Who's it about?" He asked and you released a sigh before finally lifting your gaze from your screen and allowing it to fall over the stranger.
"Oh shit..." You spat erratically, as your heart rate increased and your eyes fell onto the very object of your fantasies, Steve Rogers, superhero, Avenger, known all over the world and you were sat here writing fanfiction about him.
Your face turned a deep maroon and you began stuttering as he let out a soft laugh.
You quickly closed the laptop lid and tugged at your sleeves.
"You didn't..see that did you..." You whispered in embarrassment.
"No but I saw my picture." He smirked and you swore you got even redder, if that was even possible.
"No. God no." You mumbled to yourself, "Jesus I'm so sorry."
"Don't be, I'm flattered." He smiled reassuringly and you swore you went to heaven right there, because Steve Rogers was sat opposite you, smiling at you.
"God.." You breathed, placing your palms on your cheeks in an attempt to cool them down.
"Can I read some?" Steve asked and your eyes widened in fear.
"Absolutely not." You said all too quickly.
"Come on, it's only fair since I'm the muse." Steve smirked and you felt a knot building in your stomach.
"No seriously it's... I write... it's niche.." You mumbled out, because that was the only word you could thing of to describe what you wrote. How could you begin to describe the type of stories you indulged in, the dark versions of Steve that plagued your dreams and the utter filth that you put on the page. From kidnapping, to forced pregnancies, to criminally insane.
What you wrote was the most depraved and dark of fantasies and although you weren't alone or embarrassed by what turned you on, you certainly didn't want the man himself reading what came from your warped mind.
"Niche?" Steve asked with a raised brow, interrupting your inner turmoil.
"Yeah." You breathed, biting down on your lip as you sunk back in your chair.
"You're really gonna say no to Captain America." Steve smirked once more.
Your mouth opened and closed in response as you failed to find the words to express your disapproval and all too suddenly your laptop was swiped from in front of you.
You watched silently with sickness rising up your throat as he opened the laptop and his eyes began to flick back and forth across the screen.
He shuffled in his seat and suddenly rose, face flushed and eyes looking anywhere but at you.
"I need to get going," He mumbled quickly, pointing at the door, "Sorry, I have uhh....yeah..."
He made a quick getaway, door clinking shut behind him and his coffee left forgotten on the table.
"Fuck." You hissed at yourself. You were mortified, you'd just scared off Captain America.
It had been a few weeks since your encounter with the man of your dreams and you were still reeling with embarrassment.
You'd been so caught off guard by the interaction that even your followers had noticed your sudden silence and despite sending well wishes and queries, what could you say?
'Oh yeah guys I actually met the guy we all drool over, but managed to repulse him with my fucked up brain.' Yeah that wasn't happening.
Instead you'd been focusing on getting through each day, trying desperately not to picture the look on his face as he scrambled to escape your presence.
You were walking home one evening, taking your usual route down a quiet path when a hand suddenly clasped around your mouth and a hard body braced against your back.
You let out a muffled scream as you twisted against the body trying to break free.
"Ssshhh shhh it's me, it's Steve Rogers." Steve said sternly in your ear and you stilled.
You whimpered into his palm, suddenly processing the fact that he was holding you so tightly, yet there was no danger around, so what was he doing?
"Let's not pretend you didn't ask for this." Steve sneered and you suddenly felt a sharp pinch in your shoulder and your eyes rolled before it all went black.
Your eyes stung as they flickered open slowly and you became suddenly aware of the ache in your wrists. You tried to bring them towards you only to be halted by something digging into your skin.
Tilting your head back, you suddenly gasped, realising your hands were cuffed to a bed frame above your bed. You swallowed a whimper as you cast your gaze around the room, gulping harshly when it fell on Steve's figure.
He was sat on a chair at the side of the bed, elbows on his knees watching over you with intrigue, as your brain began to process the situation.
"You're finally awake." He smiled.
"Steve...what...." You whispered in confusion.
"I'll make this simple for you okay?" Steve said, interrupting your mumbles.
You nodded quickly as a few tears escaped onto your cheeks.
"I'm getting old, I need a wife, I want kids and modern dating is one minefield I don't want to step into." He informed you, "I knew you were perfect the moment I saw you."
Your eyes widened and a shudder rolled through your body.
"You can't..please let me go..." You began pleading.
"Hey!" He yelled and your mouth snapped shut, "Look, you of all people know how this goes, so let's skip over the part of the plot where you beg me to leave, where you form a plan to run only to wind up back here again and let's move onto the part where we start our lives."
"You can't do this." You whispered.
"I can and I did." He continued sternly, "Now you're smart enough to know that I'm stronger than you, I have contingencies in place, so let's not be so melodramatic about this."
You allowed a sob to escape as more tears freely fell over your cheeks, bottom lip trembling in fear.
"You're real pretty when you cry sweetie," He smirked, "But it's for the wrong reason. I don't wanna hurt you, but I'll do what I have to to make you comply, understood?"
"Yes." You muttered under your breath.
"Good. We're getting somewhere." He grinned, standing up from his chair and placing his hands on his hips.
You couldn't believe this was happening, you had to be dreaming right? This was just your mind playing tricks on you. You'd read and written too many dark stories and now your brain was focusing on that.
The sharp pain shooting through your wrists was enough to quickly bring you out of that thought and back into the reality laying before you.
"My...my job?" You murmured questioningly, surely your boss would notice you missing.
"You sent an email resigning this morning." Steve informed you.
"Oh god..what about..." You began to cry.
"About what?" Steve coaxed.
"My blog.." You trembled, sure it was silly to worry about considering what was happening, but it was what your brain went too in the moment. The one thing that you had outside of your mundane life.
"Your blog. I'm sorry sweetheart but it had to go." Steve said through gritted teeth.
"What?" You gasped.
"When we announce our engagement, I can't have my fans doing a deep dive on my fiance and finding out she ran a blog of stories about me." He said in an authoritative tone, "Especially the depraved, twisted shit you were writing honey."
"I put years of work into that." You cried more to yourself than anything else. Years of work not only gone, but spent writing about a man who had no problem taking you against your will. A man that you had put on a pedestal and worshipped.
"And those years led you straight to me, where you belong." He scolded, "So I think it all worked out don't you?"
You began to sob, breath catching in your throat.
"Now, I'm gonna be nice and give you an hour to yourself to come to terms with everything," He began, "And then when I come to get you, I expect you to be ready to move on, got it?"
"You're insane." You whispered.
"Hey!" He yelled angrily and his hand came down, slapping you across the cheek with a loud thud, "Let that be your first warning, you don't speak to me that way. I've given you what you want, I've given you what you've been fantasizing about, you wanted this, you wanted to be taken."
"No." You cried as your cheek stung.
"You did and that's not all I saw, you want me to touch you, to rape you. "He sneered, "You want me to claim every part of you, until you have no choice but to remember who you belong too. Those were your words sweetheart, not mine."
"No..." You breathed once more through the tears.
"Don't worry honey, we'll get to all that fun stuff." He smirked, "For now, rest, breathe or whatever so that we can get started. I'll be back in an hour."
With that he stomped out of the room, slamming the bedroom door behind him and leaving you to try and figure out what the hell was happening.
As your time alone passed, you were finally able to steady your breathing and your tears slowly seised.
You tried to think logically, how would fictional you handle this? You'd written this trope so many times that you'd already been through every possibility.
You knew he was too strong to over power, he was a super soldier and you could barely lift a bucket of water without your muscles trembling.
He had connections that you couldn't even begin to dream of, so you knew if you ran or tried to tell someone it would be useless.
Could you play along? Do as he expected until you worked out how to get out of here?
You knew he'd see through your attempt to over play it, to make him think you loved him. No you'd play this differently, he was wrong about you, you could figure a way out of this eventually, whether it took a day or a a year. You were no one's to take. You belonged to no one.
Steve came back through the door a while later and you narrowed your eyes at him as he stayed in the doorway, palm spread on the open door.
"Are you ready to comply?" He asked.
"Yes." You sighed, relaxing your eyes and averting your gaze.
"Good girl, I'm glad." Steve said with a smile as he walked around the bed and unlocked your cuffs.
As soon as your wrists were free you sat up and gently rubbed at the sore skin with a hiss.
"Now, how about I give you a tour of our home?" Steve smirked with his hands on his hips.
You knew there was no point arguing, not now.
"Sure." You mumbled with a flat lipped smile.
You gently shifted your legs off of the bed and stood, taking a few steps towards the bedroom door before you suddenly stilled.
"Uh uh uh." Steve tutted.
"What?" You gasped in shock as you turned to face him.
"Give me a kiss first." Steve smiled playfully and your eyes widened.
"I... I.." You began to stutter.
"I thought you said you were ready." Steve interrupted.
"I am... I just..." You took a deep breath before continuing, "Steve, you have to understand, you've literally given me an hour to come to terms with this."
"I know that but I know you." He replied, "I know you've already plotted out one hundred different scenarios for this very situation, thought through every possible outcome and you know exactly how this ends, so it shouldn't be that hard for you to wrap your head around should it?"
"I.." You breathed shakily.
"Should it?" Steve said more firmly with a scowl.
"No.. Steve.." You relented.
"So, about that kiss." Steve smirked.
You took another deep breath before crossing the space between you, scolding yourself for marvelling at his height close up.
Your hands hung limply at your sides as you perched on your tip toes and placed a quick peck to his lips.
Before you could retreat, Steve grabbed your face in both palms, pressing his lips more firmly to yours and coaxing them open with his tongue. You were unable to stop yourself from responding as the kiss turned fiery and hot, sending a shockwave down to your core.
"Mmm perfect." Steve murmured against your lips before he finally released you.
Steve guided you around the house with a firm hand on your spine, excitedly telling you about each room and his plans for some of the spaces now you were living there.
When he got to the room he was insistent on turning into a nursery, you had to bite down on your lip to stop from yelling at him and calling him a psycho. Instead choosing to nod your head and offer fake smiles in response.
The tour ended in the kitchen, where Steve informed you that despite living in the 21st century, he still expected his wife to do most of the cooking, although he didn't mind taking over from time to time.
"You look good in here." Steve gushed as you trailed your hand along the counter, trying not to roll your eyes in disgust.
"So what do you think honey?" He asked and you stilled, offering him a small smile.
"Yeah...it's nice." You responded quietly.
"Just nice?" He scoffed, "Our whole future is gonna be in this house sweetheart, we're gonna get married, have a whole bunch of kids."
"Mmhmm." You mumbled back as your eyes scanned over the space.
"Now I know about your implant." He said suddenly and you looked back at him in shock. He placed his hands up to placate you before continuing, "But don't worry. We'll have the doctor come take it out before the wedding."
"What?" You hissed.
"What? Did you think I was gonna wait to start having kids?" He chuffed, "Sweetheart, you're lucky I haven't cut it out myself."
"No Steve...Please... I just...I'm not ready." You breathed.
"Well you'll have at least 9 months to prepare, so get used to the idea." He responded harshly, before his gaze suddenly darkened and his eyes roamed over your figure.
"You hungry?" He asked as he closed the gap between you and you instinctively placed your arms over your stomach.
"Not really." You replied with a shake of your head.
"Well I am." He smirked, "Ravenous in fact."
You gulped nervously as his body heat engulfed you with his proximity to your own trembling form. He gently took your hand and tugged it away from your body, dragging it down to his crotch where he shoved your palm against his hardened cock.
"You feel that? That's all you sweetheart." Steve flirted.
You stayed silent, unable to stop your eyes from glazing over as you felt his cock twitch through his pants.
"Does it feel as good as you imagined?" He purred, "I was gonna make our first time special but I don't think I can wait. Seeing you walking around our home, it's doing things to me."
He released your hand and quickly took your hips in his palms, lifting you onto the counter and pushing your skirt up over your thighs before you could stop him.
"Steve..please..." You whimpered in protest, watching as his eyes narrowed and his jaw ticked angrily.
"I swear to god, if the next words out of your mouth are asking me to stop I'm gonna lose it." He spat.
A tear slipped onto your cheek while you stared back at the dangerous man, knowing there would be no stopping him even if you continued with your pleas.
"Well?" Steve grunted harshly.
You swallowed and shook your head in submission.
"That's what I thought." Steve said, his scowl being replaced by a smirk as he slid his palms along your legs.
He quickly hooked his finger tips through your underwear and tore the fabric away while you gasped.
You watched as he pulled the fabric to his nose, eyes rolling back in his head as he inhaled your scent on the scrap of material with a groan.
The fabric was soon tossed to the side and Steve hastily shoved his pants and boxers down to his thighs, releasing his monstrous cock and stoking over the veiny flesh.
"I read some of your stories while I was preparing for you to come home." Steve admitted in a sultry tone, "Read all the depraved things you wanted me to do to your body, to your sweet little cunt."
"They were just stories Steve." You whispered as your thighs shook.
"No honey, they were fantasies and I'm about to make them come true." He smirked back.
He took your knees in his hand, pushing them open to reveal your core to him with a pleased smile. He dragged your ass to the edge of the counter and guided his tip to your hole before pushing it in without any warm up.
You let out a scream at the intrusion that quickly turned into a moan, as your walls stretched to accommodate him and wetness began dripping around his length.
"There we go, fuck. You needed this huh?" Steve grunted as you allowed your body to relax back onto the counter. You knew there was no fighting this, so you may as well let yourself enjoy it, your escape could come later.
"Look at your blissed out face." Steve chuckled as he forced himself to the hilt, "Just needed my cock in you to help you adjust huh?"
You gasped as he pulled all the way out before taking your hips in his palms and slamming back in.
"Needed me to show you just how good I can destroy your cunt."
He began pounding into your pussy, his groin hit yours with every thrust, as his balls slapped against your ass and you knew it wouldn't be long before you were screaming in pleasure.
"Fuck that's it honey, feels so fucking good." Steve grunted in pleasure.
You could feel every ridge of his thick cock as it began to slip in and out of you with ease, the sounds of wet slapping beginning to fill the room.
"I'm gonna give you everything you've always wanted." He groaned, "Every dirty thought. Every. Fucking. One."
You felt a hand release one of your hips before it was suddenly around your throat and your eyes widened, snapping to his in shock as his fist tightened and your cunt throbbed around him.
"Yeah I knew you'd like that." He grunted, "You favoured my hand around your throat a lot in your little writings."
Your moans became pornographic as the blood flow to your brain slowed and he kept hitting the spot inside you that had you cascading towards the edge.
"Gonna make you cum just like this." He groaned as he neared his own end, "With your life in my fuckin' hands."
You felt like you were going to black out with pleasure, unable to form a single coherent thought as he continued pounding into you mercilessly.
"Fuck sweetie, cum." He ordered, "Right fuckin' now"
You screamed loudly, back arching off the counter as your coil snapped and your pussy clamped onto Steve's cock, feeling him shoot his cum inside of you.
"Fuck, there we go, shit." He panted, releasing your throat as he sloppily thrust his cock into you, working you both through your orgasms.
You sagged against the work top panting, as Steve pulled out of you with a hiss.
"Look so good filled with my cum." He panted, using his finger to gather up the liquid pooling down your crack before pushing it back into your abused pussy.
"More where that came from." He chuffed, "This is just the start of our life together sweetheart. So rest while you can, you're gonna need it."
fuuuuck i just realized that the future idealized version of myself cant exist without current me being the catalyst for change and doing hard things. has anybody heard about this
DO THE ABSOLUTE MINIMUM AT WORK. MAKE ART THAT HURTS. ABANDON ALL GUILT AND SHAME. DONT LET THEM KILL YOUR SOUL. BECOME YOUR OWN PERSONAL GOD. GROW SPIKES. DONT LET THEM KILL YOUR SOUL
I’m seeing a lot of people saying this post changed their brain chemistry, and as a neuroscientist I wanted to say yes!!! Yes it does!
Wanting something requires dopamine signaling, but liking something doesn’t.
If you have a mental illness/disorder that affects dopamine, you might feel that you don’t want to do the things that you like. You do still like them. You will appreciate having done them.
Let your likes guide you.
(If you want to read more, here’s one experimental paper about it. https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC5171207/ This theory called the incentive-sensitization theory was originally created to explain behaviors in addiction but can be applied elsewhere as well)
Rewards are both ‘liked’ and ‘wanted’, and those two words seem almost interchangeable. However, the brain circuitry that mediates the psych
girl u need to slow down. your observations are too astute. your conclusions are too insightful. youre illuminating truths known to too few. calm down girl
still living with my parents as an adult is just like. i'm grateful to not have to pay for groceries. i have to get out of here. i'm grateful to have a roof over my head and not have to pay rent. i have to get out of here. i'm grateful to not have to worry about sending out endless job applications that all lead to nowhere. i have to get out of here. i'm grateful i'm grateful i'm so fucking grateful. i have to get out of here
prguitarman
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