#useless ass medical system

[apollos-olives]

just fainted 😍😍😍😍😍😍🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

[iampikachuhearmeroar]

im sorry UTS, but WHAT on fucking earth is "creative intelligence and innovation"????? and why on earth would anyone studying nursing or midwifery need "entrepreneurship and innovation" as a double degree??

[roturo]

CRY FOR ME -dick grayson x f!reader

① NEW REQUEST FROM ANONYMOUS!: sex pollen, old lovers meet again.

→ summary: He loves you, he really does, but he left you. Months wondering why he did that had you crying for him, never ending the never-ending cycle of the abandoned by Dick Grayson wasn't in your to-do list. It's time to hit him with a smile, rather than a goodbye that would leave him wondering.

→ warnings: SMUT, angst, sex pollen, mating press, breeding kink, marking, fingering & oral (f receiving), mutlipes orgasms, overstimulation, mention of weight loss (but it's never specified how much or the weight of the reader exactly, neither a body type), hero into villain!reader, med student!reader, mentions of kory and dick being together but never in a relationship, reader is friends with harley quinn, reader was part of the og titans.

A/N: I'm really proud of this one, might even do pt2 if it gets support. -Words: 3.4k

TUMBLR IS BASED ON A REBLOG SYSTEM. PLEASE REBLOG MY WORK. THANK YOU. ENJOY. SMUT BELOW THE CUT.

¨And you know what I hate most of all that shit he put me through?, He-¨

¨Can you please stop talking about Dick Y/N? It's been MONTHS, damn it! almost a year! You're driving me nuts! I'm not even Dick's ex, or friend and I already hate him as much as you do. So let's move on.¨

¨You don't understand, I was a good girlfriend! Shit! I even became a hero for him! Now look where we are.¨

Harley laughs at your remark of how the tables have turned.

Both of you were sitting at the top of a building eating some ice-cream, which Harley insisted on steal from a random kid on the street, after robbing some random store she liked a collar from, you were now looking at how police officers where trying to look for a culpable of this crime.

It's been 11 months and 5 days since Dick broke up with you. You couldn't AND still don't understand why he did it, both of you were fine one day and the next one he decided, 'oh how could I destroy the woman of my dreams heart?, I know how! What if I tell her I don't need her anymore in my life and she's useless! then some months later fuck some fire princess and act like i'm a new person with this new suit and name! oh! also, re-do the titans! when my ex helped me do the og ones, helped when the fell apart but she's useless anyways!'

To say you weren't deep down for him, would be a lie. You don't know how he could keep laughing everyday knowing how his little trauma ass dumped you like trash. Well, if you're being honest he doesn't have a small ass, but that doesn't matter.

¨Aw, I want more ice-cream¨ Coming back to earth after some deep thoughts, Harley grabbed you by the wrists in order to change up and start looking some restaurant for dinner.

After changing clothes and Harley talking about how obsessed she´s with the Joker, you couldn't quite blame her, both of you were finally walking on the street, laughing at some random inside joke both of you had.

¨Huh.¨ Your phone started ringing and you could swear if it wasn't cold enough to freeze you up, the call was. ¨Who is it?¨ Harley asked, sneaking through your shoulder.

¨OH! Donna?, the cute girl you talked about?¨

¨Shhh, let me attend this call... Hello? Donna?¨

¨Y/N, um- hello! How are you? It's been what? one year since we don't talk?¨ ¨I'm... fine. How about you?¨

You were quite confused for this call, on the outside you're calm, but inside, you're freaking out.

¨I'm good, it's nice to hear you're doing fine!¨ ¨Thank you Donna, but I know you just don't call to ask how i'm doing, what's wrong?¨ ¨Oh well, you quite know me well Y/N, i'm sorry it seemed that way, but you're like the only person I know who could help us with some medical issues, you know? So I wanted to ask you if you could come and help us to deal with Conner, and maybe stay some days...? i'll explain you who he is and all of that later.¨ ¨Donna, you know i'm not longer on the me-¨

Harley pinched you in the arm, trying to talk but you were faster. ¨Ow Harley! Stop it!¨ You told your best friend in a whisper so Donna couldn't hear the both of you, also covering the microphone of your phone, for... extra precautions.

¨You don't understand! This is an awesome opportunity! You're going undercover in the titans tower! Imagine how crazy Jack (Jocker) would be! Say yes!¨

Thinking it for a few seconds, she was right, you could get some important information from them, it was indeed, an awesome plan.

¨Who knows, you might also see bird-boy again!¨ She said raising her eyebrows in a teasing way making you roll your eyes.

¨Y/N? Are you still there?¨

¨Yes, when do you need me to be there?¨

¨Erm... now if it's possible¨

You were now unpacking your suitcase, Donna told you to pack for at least a month, isn't that incredible?

You haven't come across any of the other titans, beside, Donna, Dawn, Gar, Rachel, Jason and Rose... Quite interesting team.

You didn't introduced well to the kids since you were in a hurry to enter your temporary room and not ran into someone else...

While you were unpacking your old tools Wayne gave you while you were their medical support 'hero' maybe also because you were a med student, you still helped with fights, bruises and hits.

You found the 'special' bandages you had for Dick, since the 'normal ones weren't soft enough for his bruises' a small smile appeared on your face at those old memories.

Now unpacking your clothes, you found three special lingerie underwear with a note from Harley:

'Just in case you have some fun ;)

xx Harley~'

The note made you roll your eyes but you couldn't deny it brighten your mood, throwing away the not and putting aside the 'Harley present', you continued unpacking your clothes, you brought in a separate case for your suit, just in case.

¨Y/N! Can you come here?¨

¨Coming!¨ maybe you could order the clothes other time.

When you entered the living room, the kids were no longer there, except Jason.

They started explaining you what happened between Deathstroke and what they know about Conner, you were paying attention to know what you're dealing with, you haven't even realize Dick came in sight until Dawn mentioned it.

But Dick didn't came alone, he was next fire princess which you couldn't care less to investigate her name when you found out about Dick meeting her.

¨Oh Dick! We brought Y/N so she could help us with Conner, since we don't have anyone else who knows about this weird medical stuff.¨ They know what happened between you two, and they still decided to ask for your help knowing he's going to be here.

You stood up from the sofa, eyes locking with his, you couldn't longer see the coldness in his eyes, but there wasn't warm either, you couldn't quite decipher what he's feeling.

¨Kory¨ She gave you her hand at which you responded with your name and doing the same. You locked eyes with her for a brief moment, a small smirk appeared in your face but disappeared once the greeting finished.

¨Y/N.¨ You locked eyes with him, a tension only the two of you could feel. You were different, much prettier, you lose some weight too, blame it on the break-up depression, but you were shining.

¨Grayson.¨ Hearing you say his last name instead of his name he could feel a small part of him getting shattered inside him, you changed.

After checking on Conner and taking some notes, it was finally night time, you were eating some cereal, knowing more about Gar and Rachel, Kory, Dawn, Donna and Robin were dressed up with their suits.

¨We have some issues to deal tonight with another troublemaker, nothing serious though, just a one night problem.¨ Dick announced while getting ready to go out.

¨Y/N, you should come! Maybe warm out a little like the old times." Dawn invited you, how nice of her, only if she knew you were also a troublemaker.

¨No thank you, i'm only here for medical support.¨ You gave her a small smile and said your goonights.

Some knocking in your door woke you up, it only passes one hour since you went asleep and they're already annoying you, first day!

¨Y/N? Are you awake?¨ You heard Dawn saying though the door.

¨Mmh¨ You replied.

¨We need you, it's Dick.¨

Even more annoying.

You walked next Dawn through the halls until you finally came into Dick´s room. Inside they were Donna and Kory, clearly concerned about his well being.

His behavior seemed, weird, there wasn’t any bruises or cuts, not even blood. He was just twisting in pain on his bed. You stepped closer to him, and got your hand on top of his forehead at which he only whined, that scared you, since it sounded more like a moan than a whine. He was hot, sweating and moving a lot.

You had your suspicions what this could be, but you needed to confirm it, this can't be real.

¨Can you please... tell me with which villain you fought with?¨

¨Ivy¨ Donna said.

Shit.

¨I need to make a call¨ you quickly said running out of the room.

¨Surprise, surprise!¨ Harley said in her taunting tone. ¨Oh my god Harley, I can't believe you.¨ ¨Well, you know a girl needs to help her best friend, so... I called another friend and voilà!¨ ¨What am I supposed to do? I don't have the fucking cure for sex pollen Harley! I owe you one, can't believe Ivy did this for me.¨ ¨You just said it, sex. C´mon Y/N!, it's your moment to play with him! He had you like a sad girl, why don't turn her into a mad girl? Make him cry for you. Break his heart like he did with you.

You ended the call, and just in time, Kory came. ¨Y/N, we need you Dick keeps talking about you and rambling about some stupid things.¨ You could sense a strange behavior from her, like if she just discovered something big.

Watching Dick twisting in pain and saying your name in just some black briefs felt good. You can't lie to yourself Harley was right.

¨It's sex pollen¨ You admitted.

¨And what's the cure? Do you have it? That's why you made the call?¨ Donna asked.

¨No, the only cure for it it's well... sex. The pollen might last for at-least 3 days or even a week, symptoms are well... extremely high sex-drive, dehydration, high temperatures, and... I think that's all.¨

Donna chuckled at what happened to Dick, ¨Let's go girls, let's leave this to Kory.¨ Dawn just laughed at a very shocked and blushed Kory, ¨Don't be like that Donna, Kory and Dick haven't confirmed anything yet.¨ You felt your jaw clenching, but decided to act calm, and when all of you were almost leaving, you were stopped.

¨No. I want her.¨ Dick said, pointing towards you. All of you stayed quiet at the sudden confession. You were shocked to say at least, blood rushing to your cheeks, you were about to leave that damn room until you remembered what Harley said.

Cry for me.

Donna grabbed your shoulder, looking at you. ¨You don't have to do this if you're uncomfortable.¨

¨No. It's okay, i'm in.¨

After mentally preparing yourself, bringing some water bottles into the room, they left you alone with him.

You sat next to him on his bed, memories came back flying around the both of you.

¨Look, I know that-¨ He completely cut you off when he started kissing you, making you lay down on the bed, you left a small moan when he broke the kiss for a moment.¨Oh my god, you don't know how much I wanted to kiss you again.¨

Did he missed you? Every question that came to your mind was easily erased when he started kissing and sucking your neck while unbuckling your jeans and taking them down with your underwear, he pulled apart to admire the bruises he left, he grabbed your panties and threw them to his nightstand.

He started kissing your thighs, making small pauses on each to make sure he's marking you as his again. Every time he went higher until he gave a small peck on your clit. ¨I can't wait to taste you sweetheart.¨ There it is... the nickname.

He got your legs over his shoulders and gave a testing long lick on your pussy, teasing your hole. At which he started sucking your clit once he heard the high pitched moan you did when he teases your hole.

His started spelling his name with his tongue on your pussy at which it only made you hornier, suddenly he inserted his index finger inside you. Dick sped up, fingers now flicking in and out of you at light speed, nose pressed into your clit, and before you knew it you were cumming, shuddering on his mouth, crying out his name.  Quickly he took all the remaining clothes from you and him, now both of you completely naked for each-other.

He was rock hard. No, scratch that, his cock looked like it was made of fucking ruby. Red and painful and already half-soaked with pre-cum.

He pressed your legs impossibly closer to your torso, moving down to meet your eyes, until you were folded in half beneath him, legs on his shoulders, putting you into a—

Oh. 

Oh. 

This was going to be a long night.

He fell on his forearms, and you wondered how much more you could take- He laced his fingers on top of your head, thumbs on your forehead, holding you still. He mumbled out another gonna make you feel s’ good before pounding you in earnest, practically bouncing you both on his mattress. His balls smacked against your ass, and the feeling was so damn satisfying that he just had to go harder. You would sport matching bruises tomorrow, his hips on your ass. You pushed out moans in time with his unforgiving pace, a metronome playing the beat to which his sanity danced away from him. 

“More?” He sounded fucking pathetic, like he was asking himself that, his voice octaves higher than it usually was, but he didn’t care. “More, you little slut? That what you want? You want more?”

“I’ll give you more,” he babbled, “More, baby, give you more give you everythin’ gonna fuck you so hard you won’t walk for weeks.”

He’s not too worried about hurting you—you’re already so wet—more that he’s afraid he’ll cum the second he starts moving again. Out of his previous partners, he doesn’t think any of them have felt this good around him.

“Please-” a strand of incomprehensible begs and pleads leaves his mouth when he starts thrusting into you again.

¨Shit- how are you even tighter huh? You've been keeping this tight pussy just for me?¨ He's a whiny mess, small kisses every time he cans, praises here and there.

“Mmm yes please yes please yesyesyesss—” was all you could manage. He laughed at you, breathless, and you wondered how he could keep up this pace and still rattle off incredibly filthy little comments, looking right in your eyes. 

“You’d like that? Yeah? Gon’ look so pretty, little baby, so pretty full of my child, yeah? All round and glowing and heavy with me. All of ’em will look at you and see me, all me, see that I did that. You want that? You want that you want that—”

He leans forward to coo praise into your ear, gently nipping at your earlobe. Goosebumps raise along your exposed flesh. The sound of skin slapping on skin echoes through the stairwell. Sometime during this his teeth find the soft muscle of your neck, leaving a crescent shape mark that’ll certainly bruise in the morning.

You're pretty sure everyone on this tower have heard the both of you fucking like rabbits by now, but knowing this was going to follow him his whole life, with the memories of him fucking you every way possible just so you could leave him, it's all you need to don't care about that.

The first time he cums, he doesn’t even realize he has. He shudders. It felt good—a bit too good—but nothing out of the ordinary. It makes him do a double take. His cock doesn’t even go soft. Drips of cum run down your thighs, pooling on the bed-sheets beneath you.

His thumb traces circles around your clit, moving in erratic, uneven motions. Dick leans back down for another kiss. You can taste yourself on him, though it’s not entirely unpleasant. Your arms wrap around his neck, holding him to your chest. The two of you can only fuck and cum until you’re too exhausted to continue. You’ve never felt so full. The thought of using protection crossed your mind once—and only for a moment—the pollen leaving you too desperate to care.

Second day and he wouldn't give you a break to nap for a minute.

His body curved and bowed, hips pressed hard against you, arms below your body and hands gripping your shoulders. “Mmm fuck baby,” Dick muttered into your mouth, your moans coming out of you almost breathless. “Yeah, yeahyeahyeah milk me fucking milk my cock gonna cum in you fuck a baby, my baby into you and you’re gonna fucking take it take it nnngh —”

He buried his face into your neck, teeth latching on to skin, biting down to draw blood, a choked groan as he came, really came, his balls squeezing painfully, a deep ache in his gut, indescribable tingles all along his cock, his spine, down to the soles of his feet.

Third day, and you started getting him where you wanted it.

“Sensitive,” you hissed, “Sensitive, Dick, you insatiable—”

“Insatiable is right,” he said to you, eyes wide, still looking like you just told him the Earth was flat. He towered over you, kneeling now, and with horror and a bit of something else you felt how hard he still was. 

¨I missed you so much, the biggest mistake of my life was leaving you.¨

Fourth day he started getting sensitive but that didn't stopped him, and he was a little more languid, strokes slow and smooth, his thighs shaking just a bit as exhaustion started to settle in. His cum was spreading in a pool on the sheets now, and you couldn’t bring yourselves to be even a little disgusted. He loved it. He loved so much how it felt that tears dropped from his eyes every-time he felt that electric shock come to him when he was about to come. He was crying for you.

Last day. Fifth day. Barely even thrusting anymore, just a slow grind of his hips, the friction and the pressure and the raw sensation squeezing out what could have been an orgasm if only both of you were awake enough to feel it.

When you both woke up the next day, he was staring at you, straddling your hair, and that's when you knew it.

¨Good morning sweetheart.¨

You just answered with a small ¨hey¨

¨I never through of seeing you laying next to me again, it felt like home. I'm sorry I did that to you, you don't know how much I regret it, please, give me a second chance.¨

Bingo.

Without saying a word, you grabbed some shirt of his, long enough to cover yourself and went back to your room, stumbling and shaking someway you made it. You changed yourself, taking a minute to observe how he marked you, it was time.

You went back to his room, already changed, you gave him a smile and sat on the bed with him, with no emotion behind your eyes, it was your time.

¨You were ready to leave me for her.¨ Confusion, first stage he made you go through.

¨I was doing fine, really, but then you walked again into my life again and fucked me up.¨ Sadness and lies. Second stage.

¨You think this will make me stay?¨ You signaled the both of you. ¨You think with just some stupid sex to heal you is enough of an apology?¨ A laugh escaped your mouth. ¨You thought this was real?¨

¨You know for a fucking fact this wasn't supposed to happen.¨ You got your hand on top of his, faking a caring smile looking at him.

¨When friends of yours make jokes about how you always leave them, you think it's funny, but it's not. That hurts a lot, actually.¨

You got up from the bed and stepped closer to the door, you paused for a second and turned around to see a hurt Dick naked on the bed with just some blanket covering him.

¨And Dick... Of course I still love you, if it wasn't for me, I would go crying and throwing myself into your arms again.¨

¨You still can.¨ He tried.

¨No.¨ You chuckled. ¨I won't let myself get hurt again. Our love isn't worth the fight. Goodbye Dick Grayson.¨

[soleilapproves]

catalyst - chapter 1

Life has many twists and turns- yours included getting rejected from med school and ending up as a manager for your burnt-out pro boxer ex-boyfriend. (Sukuna x reader)

Notes: fem!reader

fanfic masterlist / main masterlist

Gravel crunched underneath your sneakers as you dragged them along the pavement. You had been running around the city with tired limbs and a resume in hand, trying to get a job after getting your last rejection letter from one of the medical schools you applied to.

Thank you for expressing interest in our medical program. Upon evaluating your transcripts, credentials, and extracurriculars, we regret to inform you that you are not eligible to join this year’s class. We will gladly consider your application for next year’s class if you wish to reapply. You may contact the admissions department for questions regarding the next application cycle.

Tears threatened to fall from your eyes again. You had been crying about your future for the past week. With all the hard work that went into all those volunteering hours, internships, and research assistantships, you were sure to get in.

But no, not in the system set up in this day and age. There will always be someone more qualified and well-connected than you. And even if they aren’t, they will always benefit from nepotism. 

Your feet dragged themselves till you couldn’t take it anymore. You broke down, ass landing on the curb in front of a random convenience store in the middle of some no-name neighborhood. Tears spilled down the apples of your cheeks as they drenched your chin and neck. The sky roared, and rain began to pour down. 

You wailed harder and tried to drown out the noise by yelling curses at the sky. You thought of all the tests you studied for, all the diagrams taped up on your walls, and all the money you spent on your applications. You had spent so much time and effort preparing for medical school that you couldn’t invest in a plan B. You needed a job to fund yourself, at least until you could get back up on your feet and figure out what you wanted to do, but to your misfortune, no one was hiring.

There was nothing more agonizing than being led astray from your original path. You began to question your abilities. Maybe if you had just paid attention in that class, you’d have an A instead of an A minus, or if you had just volunteered more, you’d seem more competitive. 

But it was all useless. What’s done is done. You groaned into your pruned hands. 

Then, all of a sudden, you could hear the muffled sounds of raindrops hitting canvas. “Funny, you seem different from how he described you.” You looked up to see a white-haired figure holding an umbrella over your head. “Uraume. No last name. Please come with me.”

You looked behind the figure and saw a sleek black Range Rover with tinted windows. It looked like it didn’t belong in this neck of the woods. Great, you were rejected from almost all the vacant positions in the city, and you were about to be trafficked for the benefit of wealthy people.

“I have a mace, so get away from me,” you said while walking away, not putting away much of a fight.

“Sukuna Ryomen. I’m sure you know him,” Uraume continued. “He needs you.”

Since when did traffickers start doing background checks on their victims? Your stomach churned as you began to walk faster, trying to outrun the chalky white-haired person who was now hot on your heels. However, having not eaten all day, you barely had the energy to pick up your speed, so you pulled your phone out to call the police, which, to your misfortune, was dead. You began to sob as you slowed down, and you noticed that the Range Rover was trying to catch up with you. 

It began to slow down beside you when its window rolled down. “Hey, it’s me, Yuuji!” 

You stopped, and so did the vehicle. Yuuji, your ex-best friend’s little brother, was smiling at you. “Just hear us out.” The boy (well, now a man) said with the most sincere eyes you had ever seen. Uraume walked towards you, covering your now-drenched body with their umbrella. 

-

You couldn’t believe your eyes- the once scrawny little kid you knew was now a tall man. Yuuji’s facial features had changed significantly. His round face was replaced by sharp angles (much like his older brother’s), and he also sported a few new scars (the ones beneath both his eyes being the most noticeable as they looked identical). He walked you through everything that had happened in Sukuna’s life since you both lost touch, while Uarume guided you both through the VIP area of the city’s most prominent hospital. They also casually added that they had a private investigator look into whatever you were up to in the past month, which freaked you out. No one wonder they knew way too much about you. 

It turns out that after you two lost touch, Sukuna became a famous boxing champion. He didn’t bother getting into the details of how it happened, but as far as you know, Sukuna never really expressed any interest in it whenever you were around. Yuuji pulled his phone out to show you his latest fight- the reason why he’s so battered up. 

You winced as you watched the clip, having a hard time trusting your eyes. There were many things you didn’t know about the martial arts world, but it was still shocking that you had no idea your ex was a famous and skilled fighter. It was apparent he had a knack for getting into fights with how he’d defend you whenever a bully charged towards you or a creep so much as to even looked your way. It never occurred to you that his punches were just that precise and had less recoil because he was training to be a professional fighter.

Now, here he was, on Yuuji’s phone screen, being beaten and battered like a piece of rice cake being pounded by a human mallet. “I thought you said he was good.” You mumbled. “He is, but he’s been burnt out and has refused any kind of treatment for it.

You raised your brow as the three of you stopped in front of a large wooden door. “And I’m here because?” 

“We have tried everything. Yuuji has to return to his classes soon, and I have never been able to connect with that man emotionally enough to support him through such a tough time. Even his therapist says he’s a lost cause because he refuses to cooperate.” Uraume says as they open the wooden door to reveal a large, dark hospital room. 

It takes you a while to register what’s going on, with the only source of light being the skyscrapers visible through the floor-to-ceiling panoramic windows on the opposite end of the room. In the middle of the room, against the wall, was a large hospital bed with a few monitors surrounding it. In it, you could see a mop of pink hair. 

Sukuna Ryomen- professional boxer and ex-boyfriend in the flesh. The steady rise and fall of his chest told you that he was asleep. The sight led to an invisible lump forming in your throat. The last time you’d seen him in person was when you both had your biggest fight together. A shiver went down your spine as you remembered all the hurtful words you had spat at each other. In that moment, neither of you could believe you could’ve been that hostile.

You’d only ever seen him sick with a fever, and he was horrible enough to deal with during that time. You couldn’t imagine how he was feeling right now. 

“As his manager, I’d like to hire you as his… well, I’m not sure what I’d call this position, but you’ll be making sure he gets better and is up to date with all his treatments and training,” Uraume said as they took you and Yuuji out the room. 

You sighed. “You want me to be his nanny?” 

“More like a personally involved manager, but we can have Sukuna’s doctor come up with a better name. Something to do with your field of interest. Her name is Dr. Shoko Ieri, and she’ll also be sure to refer you to all the good schools in the country so you can enroll in the next session.”

You didn’t know what to focus on first- the fact that you were offered a job (albeit a nanny for an adult) or that your idol, Shoko Ieri, was ready to refer you for your next applications. You had only ever seen her present at research conferences, all while you both had a common link this entire time. You felt lightheaded- the feeling of hope finally returning after a week of non-stop anxiety fits.

“So, do we have a deal?” Uraume extended their hand. 

But then again, things aren’t so good between you and Sukuna. At least from how you see things. Your relationship with him ended on a sour note, and even if you didn’t want to admit it, you did resent him a little for simply abandoning you and never making an effort to reach out again as you did. What if you failed? What if this whole thing ends up being one giant dumpster fire? 

You hesitantly looked at the pale hand in front of you. But then again, there was no way to go from here. What would you do anyway? Your paid internships never led to any full-time positions, and you barely had any money to get by after paying your rent for the next month. You also needed to pay for all the new applications and supplementary courses for your resume. 

“You should do it. They don’t like shaking hands with people, so this is major.” Yuuji whispered in your ears.

You gulped as your heart raced. In different circumstances, you would’ve said no, but you have nothing to look forward to besides getting a part-time job, which you knew wasn’t worth it with an offer like this to compete with it. You placed your hand in Uraume’s cold ones. They quickly shook your hand and pulled away like you had the plague (“They have a small case of germophobia,” Yuuji said later).

“When do I start?” you ask.

“Immediately. Since this job requires a lot of monitoring, I’ll have a few movers get your things and take them to Sukuna’s apartment. You’ll be living with him until he gets better” 

You didn’t know how to feel at that moment, chest still tight with the uneasiness from before. What you did know for sure was that Sukuna probably wouldn't be happy seeing you so at home in his personal space. 

[sarahowritesostucky]

Art: @hopelessartgeek

📖 "Medically Necessitated" Ch 10

Rated: Explicit Pairing: Bucky x Steve Tags: a/b/o, age gap, past rape, rape recovery, trauma recovery, pregnancy, medical trauma, hurt/comfort, mentions of CSA, religious fundamentalism, first time, gender dysphoria, male omegas having all the bits (peen & vagine) Summary: After a medical emergency brings him into the ER, Bucky escapes the religious cult he's been raised in. It's up to Steve, nurse practitioner and omega sex & repro specialist, to see him through a medically supervised heat.

Wait! I haven't read an earlier chapter! Story masterlist

10. Bea

Bucky and Steve negotiate what kind of relationship they're going to have.

Over the course of the following week, Bucky makes good use of the purchases from Twig ‘n’ Tuft. He arranges his new things in an obviously good mood, humming happily as he works. A few things get set aside for later use in the closet, but most of his efforts go towards Steve’s bed, changing out the sheets (they’re silkier now) and blankets (puffier), fluffing the pillows (there are a lot more now), and arranging everything just how he likes.

He’s nesting.

Steve stands in the doorway and watches for a bit, heart bursting with emotions that he knows are directly related to the bond. No way could he feel this utterly content and pleased just from watching a simple act of nesting, otherwise. His omega is feeling safe and comfortable in his home. Steve is providing for him and taking care of him, and it’s making Bucky happy. That’s all Steve wants.

“Need any help?” he asks, not surprised when Bucky says no. Omegas like to nest on their own. Steve is sure he’d mess up whatever Bucky’s nonsensical system is and wind up getting his head bitten off. “Okay then,” he says. “I’m gonna get ready for bed, so …” He grabs some pajamas from the dresser and heads in the direction of the bathroom, intending to brush his teeth and change. “You’re sure you want me in here?” he double checks. “I’m more than happy to take the couch again.”

Bucky rolls his eyes at him. “No Steve. That was pathetic. Six-foot man on a five-foot couch. Stop asking or you’re gonna give me a complex. I want you in here with me.”

Steve smiles gently. “Okay, Buck. Okay.” He goes into the bathroom and shuts the door behind himself. When he comes back out and climbs into the now-nested bed, he has a moment of indecision, unsure how close he should be, if Bucky wants his space, or if maybe Steve should try to touch—

Bucky scoots back to spoon directly against him, his back to Steve’s chest and a large pillow hugged in front of himself. “Mmm.”

Cautiously, Steve lets his arm drape over Bucky’s waist. “This okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Bucky sighs. He wiggles in place a little, settling. “Steve?”

“Mm?”

“... Thanks.” Bucky’s hand finds Steve’s where it rests just over his waist and gives a small squeeze. “For helping me. For everything. I’m glad I’m here with you.”

Steve’s heart melts into something useless and gooey, and he lets go of whatever awkwardness he’d still been holding onto. He pulls Bucky more securely against him and nuzzles into the back of his hair. “You’re welcome, Honey. I want you here. It’s gonna be okay.”

Bucky hums and cuddles further back against him. Later, once he’s dozed off, he purrs.

The next morning, Steve is still half-asleep when he’s suffused by the scent of happy, pregnant omega. He hums, vaguely aware that he’s surrounded by soft, good things. With his eyes still closed, he pulls the softness closer, smiling and nosing into that inherently pleasant scent. He feels so good, turned on and warm and safe. Mate, he thinks dreamily, rolling his hips once, and then again because it feels so pleasurable. Soft and good omega, mmm …

“Steve?” Bucky’s sleep-slurred voice. “Mm, whuddryadoin’?”

Steve wakes and his eyes fly open. He freezes in place, mortified as he realizes that he’s been rubbing his morning erection against Bucky’s boxer-clad ass for God only knows how long. “Oh, shit.” He hears Bucky’s low chuckle, but is still horrified at himself. “Sorry!” he hurries, removing his hands. “Sorry, sorry.”

He’s pulling away, but Bucky turns over in the bed and follows after him. He looks barely awake himself, his hair a mess and his eyes opened to puffy slits. He burrows in against Steve’s chest, rubbing his face on his tee shirt. “S’okay,” he mumbles. “You smell good.” He’s silent after that, and a minute later, his quiet snoring lets Steve know that he’s fallen back to sleep.

Steve untenses and allows himself to hold Bucky again—at first hesitantly, and then with more confidence. He lets his head fall back onto the pillow, his nose near Bucky’s hair. He closes his eyes and falls asleep.

The next time he wakes, it’s to Bucky kissing him on the mouth. Steve inhales and pulls back. “Buck, what’re you doing?”

Bucky blinks. “Kissing you.”

Well yeah, Steve wants to say. He feels bad for his lack of reaction when he sees Bucky’s expression begin to shutter.

“Am I not allowed to?” he asks. “Do you … do you not want that with me?”

Steve exhales. “No, Buck. It’s not that. I just don’t want you to feel like—”

“Like I have to,” Bucky says. “I know.” He moves closer, until their chests are touching. “I know you don’t want me to feel forced or … or coerced or whatever. But I don’t.” Carefully, watching Steve’s reactions, he leans in to kiss him again. When their lips meet, Steve’s stomach flutters with nerves. Bucky kisses him gently, and it’s so sweet and tender that it almost aches. Steve forces himself not to wrap his arms around Bucky’s waist again, not to press his leg in between Bucky’s legs and turn into him, push him down into the sheets like he wants to.

But he does kiss back.

They talk about it over breakfast. Steve is in the kitchen making eggs and sausage, and Bucky’s curled up in a corner of the couch with one of his nesting blankets. The tv is set to low volume on a local morning news program. Bucky’s the one who initiates the conversation.

“So, I’m your registered omega now.”

Steve tenses where he’s standing by the stove. “Oh. Yeah. Um …sorry.”

Bucky makes a face. “I’m the one who signed off on it. Why should you be sorry?”

“I dunno,” Steve mumbles. He looks down and focuses on shuffling the sausages around with the spatula he’s holding. Really, there’s a whole lot he’s sorry about. Bucky was a trauma survivor in need of help, and in very short order he’s been impregnated, bonded, and legally bound to an alpha he barely knows. Steve doesn’t know how to explain to Bucky what an injustice that is. “This all just happened so fast,” he says. “I don’t want you to feel like you don’t have choices.”

The tv clicks off, and the next thing Steve knows, Bucky is standing on the other side of the kitchen island, giving him a stern look. “Steve, stop.”

“Stop?” He glances down at the sausages. Stop…cooking?

“Stop feeling guilty about this," Bucky says, crossing his arms and leveling Steve with a look. “It makes me sad and I don’t like it.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” He nods. “Look, I’ve been given choices out the wazoo, lately. Everybody back at the hospital made it perfectly clear to me that I didn’t have to go with you. But that’s what I wanted. I like you and I trust you, and you’re the father of my baby.”

Steve’s heart stutters in his chest at hearing it said aloud like that. Holy shit, he really is going to be a father, isn’t he? Holy shit, how the hell is he going to do that? He clears his throat and opens his mouth to say something, but Bucky says,

“And we’re bonded, aren’t we?”

“Yeah.” Steve remembers the eggs and hurries to give them a swirl in their pan. “Ah, yeah. We are.”

Bucky nods decisively. “So, I want to be in a relationship with you. A real one, including sex.”

Steve stops, spatula held midair in surprise. “You … what?”

“You, me, living here,” Bucky gestures around the apartment. “I know you’re not going to make me be physical with you, but I want to be.”

Steve’s heart is beating fast inside his chest now. He licks his lips. “Buck, you … you’re a minor. You're eighteen.” That seems like the most obvious problem to him, but Bucky just rolls his eyes.

“Almost nineteen. My birthday’s soon.”

Steve doesn’t know how to break it to him that this doesn’t exactly erase the massive age difference between them. “I’m thirty-one, Honey.” He struggles for what to say next, and of course Bucky mistakes his awkwardness for rejection.

He visibly draws back into himself. “If you don’t like me like that,” he hedges, “or if you aren’t really attracted to me, I wish you’d just say so. I can handle it, but I just need to know what we—”

“No, no. I do. I like you, Buck.” Steve hurriedly covers the pans with their respective lids and flicks both burners off, stepping around the island to pull Bucky into his arms. “And you’re beautiful, Honey. You’ve got to know that.” He hugs him, and Bucky all but melts against him, resting his cheek on Steve’s shoulder. The closeness instantly feels right. Steve can feel the omega relaxing at his words, his scent lightening back to something pleasant. He sighs. All his overthinking things has just left Bucky feeling unwanted, and that couldn’t be further from the truth. “I guess you can tell that I have some hang-ups,” he mutters.

Bucky scoffs. “Yeah. You worry too much.”

Yeah, he does. But Steve shrugs. He can’t help the second guessing and caution that comes so naturally to him at this point. He’s been trained ad-nauseam to be a victim’s advocate, to never take advantage. “I just want to make you happy,” he admits, giving Bucky a gentle squeeze. “I guess I need to start trusting you to be able to tell me how to do that.”

Bucky hums happily. “Yeah. Good.” He pulls back just enough to meet Steve’s eyes, and he smiles. Then, pointedly, he leans in and kisses him. It’s only a brief kiss, more a brush of lips than anything else, but it makes Steve’s skin tingle with pleasure. Bucky pulls back check, “So now I can kiss you any time I want, right?”

Steve forces a smile. “Yeah Buck. You can kiss me.”

Bucky kisses him once more, then lets him go. “And do other stuff,” he says happily, just as Steve is reaching up to grab plates out of the cabinet.

He freezes. “Oh. Um ...”

“Oh come on, Steve. You’ve fucked me six ways to Sunday already!”

Steve busts out in a surprised laugh, but he can feel his face heating at the intense visual memory that hits him: Bucky, in the heat suite, naked and moaning and coming undone. Steve shakes his head and grabs the spatula back up. “Jesus Buck. Come on over here and get your food.”

Bucky obeys with a smirk, and they heap their plates high with scrambled eggs and sausage links and sit at opposite ends of the couch. Their feet tangle in the middle as they eat. Bucky chews thoughtfully for a while and then says, out of the blue and with determination, “I should learn to cook.”

Steve grimaces down at his plate. “That bad, huh?”

“What? Oh, no!” Bucky laughs and eats more sausage. “No, this is great. I was just thinking how I could make you breakfast. Pancakes and stuff. Omelets. I mean, since you probably don’t have time to do it yourself when you have to get to work in the mornings. Right?"

Steve blinks, taken aback. “Wow that’s … that’s really sweet, Buck.” Bucky smiles and looks back down at his plate, and Steve says, “I still have the next few days off from work. We could try to get your school situation figured out, if you want?”

Bucky looks wary of this idea. “I dunno, Steve. I was always homeschooled. I don't …” He shifts uncomfortably. “I don’t know if I’m very smart.”

Steve tuts in disapproval. “Of course you’re smart. Just because you might not know certain facts doesn’t make you unintelligent. Remember what I told you?”

“Yeah I know. Bees pollinate flowers,” Bucky mumbles, his discomfort obvious. He’s still embarrassed about his past.

"Hey," Steve offers gently. He nudges Bucky’s socked foot with his own. “That’s what we’re gonna do. We’ll spend the last few days of my leave figuring out a schedule for you, okay? I’ll help you.” The past few days have gone quickly, eaten up by tv marathons, snuggle sessions, and walks around the neighborhood to familiarize Bucky with the immediate area where Steve lives. “We can map out where your sister’s new place is, where you’re going to go for therapy. I’ll even investigate how you might go about taking the GED, if you want. They have study materials. Shouldn’t be hard to figure out.” He keeps nudging Bucky’s foot with his until he gets a little smile from the kid. “You’ll get a transit pass for the train and the bus. You can be totally independent, scoot all over the city if you want.”

Bucky hums and tucks back into his food, but Steve can tell that he’s pleased by the prospect.

Steve still has the next few days off from work, the tail-end of what is officially titled as his “Registered New Mate Leave.”

Steve is forced to explain to—an understandably confused—Bucky, that even though “mates” really is just a social construct and not a true physical thing, the government in New York still uses the term in some of its policies and legislation. “I know it’s contradictory,” he apologizes, when Bucky first perks up at hearing him say the words ‘mate leave’. “It’s stupid, I know. But the important thing is that I have time off where I can help you get settled, yeah?”

Bucky agrees with a tiny nod (and later, a quietly-murmured: “It’s not stupid. I don’t mind being your mate,” which makes Steve fluster but which Bucky also says quietly enough and standing far away enough that Steve can pretend he didn’t hear him say it).

He buys Bucky a transit card and helps him learn how to use the app for the city bus system and the train on his phone, then they decide to take a practice trip together, riding the orange and then the purple line out to the address in Queens where Rebecca's new apartment complex is.

Steve sits next to Bucky on the train and watches as he spends the ride downloading various apps for things like GrubHub and Candy Crush onto his phone. It’s a little hard for Steve to remember that Bucky grew up in a restrictive and backwards cult, when he’s sitting there witnessing the kid take to the modern world like a fish takes to water.

Rebecca’s apartment is all the way out in Flushing. Steve makes a reference to The Nanny, which Bucky of course doesn’t get, because he didn’t grow up watching 90’s cable TV. So Steve promises to add it to their already massive streaming watchlist.

Rebecca has them stay for lunch, and Steve feels kind of bad when they leave her in her lonely apartment with stark walls and hardly any furniture or possessions. She’s still adjusting to the outside world, the same as Bucky is, and Steve is once again very, very glad that he’s been able to bring Bucky straight into a lived-in home with lots of warm things and Steve himself to help. He’d hate to think of Bucky struggling all on his own.

“We should have her over for dinner sometime,” he offers, when he and Bucky are back in Brooklyn and walking towards the OmCare social services building where Bucky’s scheduled for his afternoon intake and assessment. “Your sister, that is.”

“Ooh, yeah. We could do that?” Bucky looks hopeful. “I could make something.”

“Sure, why not?” They walk inside the building and Steve accompanies Bucky up to the check-in desk. He gives him a little side hug, which Bucky turns into a full-on hug, and then leans up and kisses him. It’s just a quick peck, but it makes Steve flush halfway down his neck.

Bucky smiles when he notices and holds Steve’s hand while they wait in line behind one other person. “You’re nice,” he mumbles.

“It’s your apartment, too. You’re allowed to have guests and go in and out and cook whenever you want. And I’m glad you’ve got your sister, and that she’s got you.” Steve squeezes his hand. “You’ve both overcome something huge. It’s not easy. I’m proud of you.”

Bucky beams and looks like he’ll say something else, but before he can, the receptionist calls him forward and he signs himself in. They take their seats in the waiting room, and before long Bucky is called back by a kind looking beta counselor, who introduces herself as Beatrice—"just Bea is fine"—Collins, and informs Steve that if he plans to stick around for the entire appointment, he’s got quite the wait ahead of him. Steve says he doesn’t mind. His phone has a full charge.

When Bucky comes out of the appointment—three hours later —Steve’s butt is numb from the waiting room chairs, and Bucky’s holding a folder stuffed full of papers. Steve can immediately tell that he’s in a very good mood. He looks ten times brighter than when he'd gone in. “How’d it go?” Steve asks.

“Great!"

"Yeah?"

"Uh huh. My counselor's nice.” Bucky recounts all of the different assessments that Bea had him complete during their session together. “I think she was expecting me to be super screwed up or something,” he jokes. “I don’t know what the heck the hospital told her.”

That you’re a gang rape trauma victim with culture shock and gender dysphoria, Steve thinks, but doesn’t say. He’s been relieved and surprised so far, at how well Bucky’s taken to accepting himself and his body, this bond and the news of an unplanned pregnancy. Steve doesn’t know how that’ll change as the pregnancy progresses, but he’s hopeful that him being there and being accepting of Bucky can help make a positive difference. “Did you get a schedule for therapy?” he asks, when they’re on the bus ride home.

“Mondays and Wednesdays at four,” Bucky says. “There’s a queer youth group that meets after. Bea said she thinks I’ll like it. I told her I’d give it a try.”

Steve blinks in surprise. “Oh. Okay. So ... do you feel like you’re, um, queer?”

Bucky smirks and shakes his head. “No. But I dunno, I might make friends there.”

“Oh yeah. Right, of course.”

His hand migrates to his stomach and he looks down at it. “I still feel really weird about it all. Being pregnant.”

Steve’s heart sinks and he fights not to let it show on his face. “Do you feel like you’re changing your mind? About keeping it?”

Bucky shakes his head but he won’t meet Steve’s eyes. “No, it’s not that. I don’t mean the baby. It’s more about how I’m, like …” He chews his lip as he thinks about it. “How I'm being like this so openly.”

“‘Like this’?”

He nods. “I know people can smell it. And eventually I’ll get big and people’ll see.”

“Yeah.” Steve’s hand creeps over the seat between them, cautious. He personally can’t wait to see Bucky get bigger, but of course he’d never say that. “Is ... that a bad thing?” he asks cautiously.

“No. Not bad. It just makes it so obvious about how I’m, um, you know.” Bucky hesitates for so long that Steve half expects him to throw out an obscene word. “How I'm … omega." He plucks at the front of his sweater, which they bought in the men’s omega clothing section at Target just the other day.

It isn’t much different in style from a typical men’s A/B sweater. Perhaps a bit tighter in the fit—slightly different seams, a more graceful neckline that’s indicative of the gender it’s meant for. Steve thinks it looks good on him, but now he starts to get self conscious and wonders if Bucky truly liked any of the clothes they bought for him the other day. Steve had tried to make it clear that Bucky could pick out anything he wanted. He doesn’t think he’d been the one to steer them in the direction of the men’s O department, rather than men's A/B, but he’ll be damned if he can convince himself of it now.

He opens his mouth to ask, but Bucky’s already speaking, “It wasn’t like that back home. Guys like me were … Well, people knew, of course, but we didn’t talk about it. You hid it, you didn’t go around openly acting all—” he cuts himself off and shakes his head. “Anyways, it’s just weird to be out in public, knowing everybody can tell. Seeing people act like it’s normal.”

Steve frowns and takes his hand. “It is normal, Buck.”

“I know. I know that. It’s just gonna take some getting used to." Bucky twists his lips and grumbles, "Bea says I’ve got ‘dysphoria’.”

“You do,” Steve says solemnly, thinking about how the kid had refused to even consider the men’s O style underwear at Target. They’d purchased a pack of A/B style briefs instead, which Steve had been happy to do for him. “It’s gonna take time,” he agrees kindly. “And that’s okay. It'll get easier, you'll become more comfortable about a lot of stuff. And for the things that don't feel right, well you know you can express your gender any way you want, right? You don't have to force yourself into some box. Not anymore." He gives Bucky's hand a comforting squeeze. "I think the queer group’s a great idea, Buck. You should go.”

Bucky’s scent gradually lightens, and he leans in against Steve’s side, allowing him to wrap an arm around his shoulders and hold him close for the remainder of the bus ride home.

“—and said she thinks I’ll do just fine on the GED,” Bucky tells Steve brightly the next night, when they’re fixing their dinners. “I can study for it online, and take it any time I want. She had this whole indicator test that said my scores were pretty good. Better than what she’s seen from uneducated people in the past.”

“You not uneducated, Buck,” Steve chides. “You were homeschooled.”

“Better than nothing,” Bucky mutters, but says nothing else, and they leave it at that.

They compromise and make little side salads to eat with the frozen dinners that Bucky picked out (the kid has atrocious taste in foods, and Steve has already purchased and paid for overnight shipping on the best prenatal vitamins that money can buy). They settle in to watch a few more episodes of The Nanny, which Bucky has decided that he loves. After that, he picks out a movie to watch, and they sit snuggled on the couch together, some of the new nesting blankets tucked around both of their shoulders.

It becomes apparent that Bucky has taken their previous discussion about physicality to heart. He’s very bold with how close he wants to be with Steve, sitting right up against him as soon as the movie starts and leaning more and more of his weight on him as time goes on. He purrs happily when Steve finally wraps an arm around his shoulders, gives him an affectionate tug against his body, and holds him close. They spend the rest of the movie that way.

By the time the credits roll, Bucky’s hand has been steadily creeping higher up Steve’s thigh for the better part of twenty minutes. They’ve snuggled the entire movie, but Bucky started touching with intent somewhere around the three-quarter mark, and Steve’s done nothing to stop him. He grunts softly when Bucky finally reaches the top of his thigh, and again when he boldly moves his hand and cups the front of his jeans. Steve’s been perked up for a while, and it feels good to finally be touched. “Buck,” he says softly.

Bucky turns into him, putting their faces close together. “Kiss me?” he murmurs, those two quiet words making his lips move in the barest, most enticing way. They look so soft.

Steve’s belly flutters with nerves in a way that it hasn’t done in a long time. Bucky’s so young and sweet, so innocent, and that really gets to Steve more than he wants to admit. He’s never had a virginity kink, but knowing that he’s the only one who’s ever made love to Bucky’s body, the only one who’s ever laid him down in soft spaces and shown him pleasure, God, it makes Steve weak to think about.

It makes him want so much, makes him want to show Bucky every single way there is in the world to feel good. Steve just wants to keep him and teach him and make him happy. And to feel all of that for someone he’s barely known is … It’s a lot. Steve knows they’re bonded, and that he should allow himself a little leeway, allow himself to indulge. Especially since Bucky’s all but in his lap now, having made his wishes crystal clear, lips hovering scant centimeters away from Steve’s own.

Steve closes the distance, pressing their mouths together in a gentle kiss. Bucky is soft, just as devastatingly sweet and soft as he looks, and Steve feels his blood run hotter at the sheer lust that courses through him. Fuck, he thinks despairingly. How is he ever going to control himself with this boy?

Bucky makes a tiny noise of pleasure as soon as they’re kissing, a sound that goes straight to Steve’s cock. He’s so eager, pressing closer, his hand between Steve’s legs molding to the shape of his erection and rubbing. Steve grunts and kisses him harder, and Bucky looses the sweetest little whimper. He abandons all pretense of restraint, turning fully into Steve, climbing into his lap and straddling him. His hands come up to cradle Steve’s face as they make out.

Steve groans at the first, hot swipe of Bucky’s tongue. He opens up to it and follows, his hands curling in hard at Bucky’s waist as they get more and more heated, more urgent. Bucky’s hips start grinding down in tight little circles, and when they break away from the kiss momentarily, Steve's slightly out of breath. “Buck,” he pants, and Bucky nods shakily in response.

“Yeah. Oh God, Steve. You feel so … I just wanna … nngh.”

Jesus, Steve thinks. It doesn’t even take a complete sentence from the boy to make heat pulse harder through his veins. He knows that part of it’s from the bond. Logically, he knows. He can feel Bucky’s arousal like an echo of his own, amplifying everything. His cock is throbbing against the seam of his jeans. Bucky’s been rocking needily against it as they kiss, and Steve can smell the omega’s arousal now, honey-sweet and tempting underneath the layers of his clothes. He’s getting wet.

It calls out to Steve’s instincts, makes him want to grab Bucky and tackle him to the floor, make him feel so good that he cries and comes apart for him within minutes. It’s not like it would be hard to do. Steve knows how an omega's body works, knows that he could have Bucky creaming on his fingers before the movie’s end credits are finished rolling. But he forces himself to hold back, because that’s not what he wants, not really. Not for Bucky’s first time in their home. Their home. Christ.

“Sweetheart,” he gasps, when Bucky switches to sucking on his neck and rubbing forwards instead of down, his clothed little cock grinding against Steve’s abs, giving off these needy little whines as he moves. Fuck, it’s sexy. And he’s got his mouth right over Steve’s glands, bringing blood to the surface of skin that’s still tender and sensitive from the recent bondmark. It’s healed by now, but the skin is still pink and thin, delicate from injury. It wouldn’t take much to get it to break all over again, and Steve feels saliva pool in his mouth as he imagines that the same must be true of Bucky’s mark. He grits his teeth and digs his fingers in hard at Bucky’s waist, trying to control himself. “Oh, Honey … okay wait. Wait wait wait.” He pulls back, panting, and after a moment Bucky does, too. His eyes open and flick over Steve’s face. He’s got such fantastic eyes. Irises that flare into a stormy cobalt, and then gray; his pupils blown huge with desire. Steve is fucking helpless under those eyes.

“Alpha,” Bucky breathes, saying it like it might as well be Steve’s name. “Can we? Please? I want it, I do. Please Steve, please take me back to our room.”

It’s such pretty begging. Steve’s hit hard in that instant by how utterly beautiful Bucky is. His dark lashes and plush lips, the wanting pinch between his brows, and the sweet, aroused, pregnant smell of him. Steve wonders how he ever thought he was going to be able to remain respectable, here. “Yeah?” he asks, pushing his hands under Bucky’s sweater to feel his skin. He digs his fingers into the soft give of his waist and feels him shudder. “You sure?”

Bucky grabs his face to kiss him forcefully, his hips jolting down again as he does. “Yes!” he laughs, kissing Steve hard, shoving his tongue inside his mouth with almost no skill. “Fuck, Steve. Come on. Pleease. You’re my Alpha, aren’t you?” He’s only asking lightheartedly, but Steve’s balls still clench and throb as if he’s been issued a challenge, and his growl still intensifies to something rich and possessive, rolling deep in his chest. Bucky makes a delighted sound at hearing it, and his scent spikes. He clings to Steve and tucks his face in his neck, humping him harder and moaning, “C’mon Alpha. Take me back there and hold me down. Make it feel better. Aren’t I your omega? Don’t you want to breed me up in our nest?”

“Fuck,” Steve says tightly. This kid’s too clever. He figures things out. “Bucky,” he growls.

“Yeah." Bucky drags his teeth over Steve’s bondmark and sucks, hard, on the glands. He releases with a 'pop' and a harshly whispered, “So make me feel good like you’re supposed to,” against the shell of Steve’s ear. And Steve breaks. He shoves up to standing with Bucky hoisted in his arms. The coffee table scrapes loudly across the floor when his shins hit it. Bucky squeaks at the sudden movement and grabs onto him, laughing delightedly. "Steve!"

Steve carries him back to the bedroom. He dumps him on the bed and Bucky scoots back and starts yanking off his clothes with haste. Steve stays standing and undresses, growling at him. “You’re a manipulative little shit, you know that?”

Bucky laughs. “If it gets me what I want," he preens, voice muffled by his tee shirt and sweater twisted halfway over his face.

Steve is naked first, and he helps Bucky by pulling off the briefs that he's trying to kick off his foot, tossing them away with a grin as he crawls over him on the bed. “And what is that, huh?” he asks, settling in the cradle of his hips, pleased when Bucky's legs part instinctively to make a place for him. Finally, their bodies finally pressed fully together, nothing between them anymore. It feels right. Bucky’s eyes are bright and joyful, his cheeks beautifully flushed as Steve settles on his forearms above him. Bucky whines and draws his knees up, humping against Steve's stomach, smearing his slick there. Steve traces the edge of one dark brow with his thumb. “Pretty boy. What do you want so bad, hm?”

“Thought that’d be obvious by now,” Bucky jokes, though some of the bravado has leached from his voice, replaced by a breathiness that betrays his nerves.

Steve glances down between them and sees Bucky’s cocklet, half hard and fattened up against his belly. And lower down, all that slick. It’s mind-bendingly hot, and Steve shoves a hand down between them, smearing through the mess and getting it all over his fingers. “So wet, Sweetheart,” he praises.

Bucky chokes out the prettiest little noise when Steve's fingers graze his soaked lips, and then wrap around his cocklet and start giving it light, coaxing strokes. “S-shit,” he whimpers, shoving up against Steve’s hand. “Ohn, sh-shit, Steve …”

“Mmhm.” Steve kisses him as he strokes, stopping frequently to pull back and watch the pleasure play out over his face. Bucky's little cock is almost fully hard in his hand. Steve looks down between their bodies to watch as he thumbs over the head again and again. He takes gentle hold of his foreskin and uses it to jerk him off right at the tip. The sight of it is enough to make him want to pop a knot. And lower down? Jesus wept, it’s pretty. Bucky’s slick is everywhere and his cunt is pink and swollen, the lips puffy and darkened from arousal. Jesus fucking Christ. Steve's overcome with the need to seal his mouth right over it.

He gets back on his knees, intending to do just that, pulling Bucky where he wants him in the sheets. He pushes Bucky’s knees apart and looks his fill. Bucky starts to whine and squirm at the close attention, but Steve hushes him and plays with his cock some more to distract him. “Shh, Honey. You’re so pretty down here.” He’s staring, can’t help but stare at the gorgeous spread of Bucky’s sex. He trails his fingers over it in the barest ghost of a touch, near reverent in how he plays with this delicate part of him. “Oh, Sweetheart. Look at you, so perfect.”

Bucky’s scent gets even more aroused, but with a growing hint of embarrassment to it that Steve doesn’t like. His nose wrinkles as he scents a twinge of humiliation, and realizes how bothered Bucky is. This isn’t going to be like at the hospital. Bucky no longer has the mental fog or the fevered drive of his heat to guide him through any of this.

Steve looks up and tries to convey what he feels for Bucky through his expression, through the bond that they share. He reaches out and cups his cheek. “What are you thinking, Sweet boy?” he asks sadly, knowingly. Because he can already see it: the self-deprecating thoughts that Bucky's having about his body, about what he’s been told all his life is wrong with it. Steve makes a miserable noise of contention, and Bucky’s lips quiver and his eyes slip closed. He’s shaking his head just the barest bit. Steve whines sadly. “Honey,”

“Nothing,” Bucky whispers, squirming unhappily and pressing his cheek into Steve’s palm. His sad little smile is heart wrenching. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

For the first time, Steve wishes that he’d gone in to speak privately with Bucky’s OmCare counselor the other day, so that he could’ve asked questions. Steve’s never been with someone with issues like Bucky has, at least not any longer than a few hectic days spent fucking in a heat suite. His job involves acute care, the during. He’s never been there to deal with the after. Bucky’s so beautiful laid out before him now, but Steve is keenly aware of how fragile he is, too. He doesn’t want to mess this up.

Slowly, he moves his hand from Bucky’s face and fits it around the front of his throat instead. He presses up and in under his jaw, and watches as Bucky’s eyes shoot open again. Steve levels him with a tender look. “Buck,” he tells him gently. “I want to lay down on my stomach, here.” He nods at the bed. “Right here, between your pretty legs.” Bucky swallows thickly beneath his palm, a hurt little pinch forming between his brows. One of his hands has come up to grip onto Steve’s wrist at his throat, but he isn’t pushing him away, and Steve keeps his hand there. “I think you’re so beautiful, Sweetheart. And I want to show you. I want to make you feel good.” Carefully, he leans down over him, so close that their lips brush together. But he keeps his eyes open, and so does Bucky, and he doesn’t kiss him. He stays like that, sharing breath with him and looking right into his eyes as he holds his neck with gentle dominance. … And with his other hand, he reaches down between his legs.

Bucky’s breath catches and trips at the first touch of Steve’s fingers, his face slipping between desire and shame and a whole host of other, vulnerable emotions. “S-steve,” he breathes.

“Mmhm.” He lets the pads of his fingers stroke softly along the lips of Bucky’s cunt, again and again, up and down, just barely touching. He’s soaked. “I want you to tell me,” Steve murmurs, and then he finally does kiss him—just once, just a tiny peck on the lips. Bucky tries to kiss back, but he denies him, maintaining that scant distance between their faces and waiting until Bucky opens his eyes again. Steve smiles. “Tell me, Bucky. Tell me to put my face down between your legs. Tell me to kiss you, to lick you.”

The whine Bucky makes is as bothered as the blush that stains his cheeks. He writhes underneath Steve, and Steve tightens his hand on his neck. He fits his thumb over his bonding glands and presses firmly. “I love every part of your body Buck, and I want you to see that. I want you to see what I see.” He gives him another kiss, and this time speaks directly against Bucky’s mouth. “Now give me permission to eat you out.”

“Fuck,” Bucky whimpers, but the shame in his scent has already peaked and is dissipating. It’s still there, but Steve can feel through the bond how his words have helped. Bucky squirms under him, a new gush of slick pooling around Steve’s fingers right after. “... E-eat me out, Steve.”

“Good boy. Oh, Bucky, Sweetheart,”

“Please … your mouth, your … please.”

Steve growls, more than satisfied. He mashes his mouth down hard on Bucky’s, kissing him fiercely to let him know he’s been so, so good for him. Then he shoves himself down the bed, dragging his cock against the sheets as he goes to get some relief. Bucky’s legs spread apart and Steve coaxes him with gentle murmurs to rest them over his shoulders. “There you go. Just like that, Beautiful.” He kisses the back of one calf as it moves and Bucky settles. He flicks his eyes up to Bucky, who’s staring down at him with parted lips and heavy-lidded eyes.

“Oh, Steve. Are you gonna?”

He moves instead of answering, shoulders pushing under Bucky’s thighs and arms wrapping around, tugging him closer. Bucky squeaks and Steve rumbles in satisfaction. “Goddamn,” he curses, rolling his hips down against the mattress some more. It’s barely a relief. “Baby,” he breathes, staring at Bucky’s pink folds, so wet and delicate, his little hole clenching on nothing. “Baby, you got no idea how good this pussy looks. Fuck.”

Bucky groans at the words, but he doesn’t get much chance to protest further because in the next second Steve is diving in. He seals his mouth over most of Bucky’s entire sex, just because he can, giving a big, indulgent suck and making absolutely filthy noises in the process. He laves the flat of his tongue, wide and firm and focused, up the pink cleft of his cunt, again and again, before setting in to a few moments of truly tongue fucking him—first with tiny little jabs that barely breach him and make him whine high and needy, then a series of longer, deeper pushes, going as far into Bucky’s body as he possibly can. Bucky downright wails after a moment of that, and Steve can hear the frustration in it, can hear how he wants more but doesn’t have the words to ask. That’s alright, though. Steve has given plenty of head in his life, and he knows what male omegas respond to best. He gets himself in gear and does what he knows will have Bucky coming in minutes.

“Jesus Chr-uh—” Bucky grunts, his hips shoving up hard against Steve’s face.

Steve hums around the cocklet in his mouth and tongues the underside, flicking over and over it like he would do to a woman’s clit. He’s got one hand holding Bucky’s hip down, and he uses the other to tease at the wet entrance of his slit, pressing with the tips of two fingers. It’s so tight that, for a long second, it doesn’t feel as if he’ll be able to get in. He hums his mouth on Buck’s cock and pushes harder … and slips in.

Bucky cries out sharply and both of his hands are suddenly in Steve’s hair, pulling him closer. His legs hook over his back, heels digging in. “Fuck, oh fuck, Steve yeah… yeahyeah … that … oh, ohplease, jus’likethat.”

Steve hums happily and curls his fingers, rubbing the right spots, letting his knuckles bump Bucky’s mound while he suckles with purpose at the head of his dick. He’s determined to get at least this first orgasm out of the way before he fucks him.

Bucky’s hands pull his head and his hips shove against Steve’s face as he arches and comes, the sweet, desperate sounds he makes as he reaches his climax music to Steve’s ears. His body contracts rhythmically as he releases, a hot gush of slick between his legs and Steve’s palm. Steve groans with his cocklet still held in his mouth. He pulls off, lifting his head to gaze up Bucky’s body but leaving his fingers buried inside his cunt. Bucky’s head is tossed back in the pillows, panting, his face lax from the trailing bliss of his orgasm.

Steve smiles and strokes his fingers inside a few more times, prolonging it for him as much as he can. When Bucky inhales hugely then sighs, his entire body going boneless, Steve pulls out. He dips down for one more, indulgent taste, then kisses his way back up Bucky’s stomach, up across his chest and neck. Bucky’s waiting for him with half-lidded eyes and a sated smile when he arrives to lie over top of him again. Steve hums, settling between his legs and kissing him lightly. He rocks his hips minutely, moving his cock through all that slick. “Feel good?” he asks, bending down to nose at his neck.

Bucky shivers in his arms and nods. “Mmm. Mmhm.”

Steve’s lips find Bucky’s bondmark and kiss it. “Good,” he murmurs. He flicks his tongue out against the delicate skin of the mark, imagining how good it would feel to bite him now, to sink his teeth in all over again, feel the skin break so tenderly and the blood welling out rich with pheromones, how much the sound of Bucky’s cries would turn him on. I want to claim you again, he thinks. I want you. His chest aches with how badly he wants to say those things, but he forces himself not to.

It’s not his place to scar Bucky up any worse than he already has, not when they aren’t mates. Bucky’s with him until the baby comes, maybe not long after. Steve has to let him have that choice, he can't be selfish and box him in, no matter how badly his instincts might make him want to. He rubs his lips over the bondmark instead, then just his nose, when the urge to bite won’t go away.

Beneath him, Bucky’s hips cant up further, receptive. His knees notch up higher about Steve’s waist. But after a moment of lazy writhing and making little seeking, wanting mewls, he freezes. “Oh. Um … Steve?”

“Mm?” Steve is rubbing his cock through the wet cleft of his sex, ready to be inside his omega, ready to feel that heaven again. He wedges a hand down to line himself up. “You ready, Honey?”

“Wait, no.” Steve pulls back, and Bucky winces in apology. “Ah, maybe I have to pee. Sorry.”

Steve laughs, relieved, and kisses him quickly. He rolls off of him and onto his back. “Don’t apologize. It happens.” He pats him on the hip affectionately and tells him to go. Bucky does, and Steve watches his naked backside as it disappears into the ensuite. He sighs heavily once he’s alone, scrubbing the heels of his hands over his eyes and resisting the urge to touch himself in Bucky’s absence. God, he’d really wanted to bite him again. That’s going to be a problem. He hears the toilet flush, then water running at the sink, then Bucky’s footsteps as he returns. Steve uncovers his face and smiles as Bucky climbs back on the bed. “Better?”

“Mmhm.”

Bucky's a typical omega, in that he responds very well to his orgasms. He’s loose and happy after his first, all the tension and insecurities from before gone for the moment. Steve knows his brain has just dumped a shit-ton of chemicals to tell him that he’s loved and safe and beautiful and cared for. He moves to pull him in close again, intending to get right back between his spread legs like he’d been before, but Bucky stops him with another hesitant,

“Wait.”

Steve pauses, and when Bucky pushes against his shoulder he takes the hint and returns to lying on his back, probably with a quizzical expression on his face. Bucky’s kneeling on the bedcovers beside him, looking shy but eager. Steve’s knot throbs at that look. “Buck?”

Bucky’s eyes rove over his body with interest plain on his face. At his sides, his hands make an aborted gesture towards Steve. “Um. I wanted to try …” He bites his lip, eyes trailing down to Steve’s erection where it lies wet and heavy against his belly, the shine of Bucky’s slick on it catching the room’s light. Bucky visibly trembles and reaches out with his hand again. This time, his fingers brush over the skin of Steve’s hip. He shifts in place on his knees. “Can I …”

“Yes,” Steve breathes, instantly harder just at the thought of Bucky touching him in that way—with his hands, his mouth, it doesn’t matter. Whatever it is that Bucky wants, Steve wants him to have it. The idea of his omega wanting him like this, wanting to explore his body, makes Steve hotter than anything he can imagine. “Anything you want,” he manages to croak out, forcing himself to remain still and let Bucky set the pace. “Go ahead.”

Bucky’s timid for another moment, leaning forward. His hands land lightly on Steve’s chest at first, then drag down, feeling his body. He takes a deep breath and seems to decide on something, his expression growing resolute. He straddles Steve’s thighs and leans forward to touch his chest again, taking more time to explore his pecs, ghost fingers over his nipples. It’s endearing how fascinated he still is. Steve supposes that they didn’t do much of this in the heat suite. Bucky had been too far into his cycle then, too needy and traumatized to even contemplate exploring Steve’s body when what he really needed was an alpha taking care of him. Now though, now he can explore. And the heat in his eyes as they rove Steve’s body shows that he very much wants to.

Steve swallows thickly and watches as his omega becomes familiar with him in this new way. His hands flow over Steve’s abs, fingertips tracing the lines of muscle, and then the hair that starts on his belly. He smooths his hands down over those flat planes, out to his hips, to the tops of his thighs and back up. But his eyes remain glued to Steve’s cock the entire time. It’s fully hard now, darkened in color from his arousal and the knot plumped at the base. Bucky’s eyes flick up once, just to check, and Steve gives him a shaky smile. “Go ahead, Sweetheart.”

Bucky touches his cock, wrapping his hand around the shaft like he’s afraid he’ll hurt Steve. “What should I do?” he whispers, fingers tightening the barest fraction and giving a cautious stroke. “I’ve never …”

Steve’s hips jerk up and he fights to keep himself still. “It’s okay,” he says. “You touch yourself, right? Just do that. It’s the same.”

Bucky’s eyes flick up, and Steve’s surprised to see humor there. Bucky twists his lips wryly. “It’s not the same,” he teases, looking back down pointedly at Steve’s humongous cock, and then his.

Steve chuckles. “Well, general idea.” He reaches down and puts his hand over Bucky’s hand where it’s holding his cock. Bucky inhales sharply and looks at him. Steve nods. “Anything you do is gonna feel so good for me, Buck,” he tells him honestly. “Go ahead. I just want to watch you have fun.” Bucky looks shocked at that for the barest of seconds, but then that look slips away, replaced by eagerness. He looks back down, licks his lips, and starts jerking Steve off in slow, exploring strokes. Steve groans and lets his head flop back into the pillow, closing his eyes after a moment. Bucky’s other hand appears at the top of his thigh. It slides inwards, squeezing the muscle, and Steve groans and spreads his legs a little for him, flexing his pelvis up. “Yeah,” he whispers. “Bucky.” Bucky’s touches grow bolder. He squeezes Steve’s cock harder and starts twisting his hand experimentally on the upstroke. His other hand migrates from Steve’s thigh to his balls, eliciting a grunt from Steve. “Oh,” he breathes, wanting Bucky to hear it in his voice, how good it is. “Honey, yeah. That’s just right.”

Bucky rolls his balls in his palm lightly, and when Steve tells him that he can tug on them a little, he obeys. “Touch my knot,” Steve whispers, when he can feel it swelling further. He moans unexpectedly loudly when Bucky’s hand closes around it though, and he’s opening his eyes and reaching down to grab Bucky’s wrists in alarm. “Nope, nope nope. No more of that,” he pants, wide-eyed.

Bucky laughs, looking proud. “Why not?”

Steve growls and tugs on Bucky's waist, making him fall down on top of him. “You know why not,” he rumbles, then kisses him firmly on the mouth.

It’s possessive, and Bucky moans into it, his hands curling over Steve’s shoulders and hips grinding down against his abs. They part from the kiss and Bucky sits up, his eyes sparkling. “I liked it though,” he says. He rocks down at a different angle, rubbing his cunt on Steve's belly and smearing his slick all over the place. He giggles when Steve groans and grabs his hips to stop him. “What if that’s what I wanted?” he asks. “What if I want to make you cum with my hands? Or my mouth?”

“Fuck.”

“I want to see it,” he says, eyes hot on Steve and his hips rocking lewdly against him. “One day. I wanna see it happen. In my hands. I want to hold it and see it get big.”

Steve really, really has to close his eyes for a second with that one. He bites the inside of his cheek hard enough to hurt. Because he simply cannot with Bucky and his virginal little attempts at dirty talk right now. “You better watch your mouth,” he warns, his voice sounding like he’s swallowed rocks. “Or you will see it.” Bucky’s grin is magnificent, but Steve raises an eyebrow and reminds him, “Alphas only cum once, Sweetheart. Up to you to decide where my knot is, when that happens.”

It’s adorable, how fast Bucky’s eyes widen at that, and then how he frowns and pouts about not getting to have his cake and eat it, too. Steve waits him out patiently, grateful to have a few seconds’ reprieve (and also fairly certain that he knows which way Bucky’s going to steer things).

“Fine,” Bucky eventually says, sighing dramatically as if he’s making the world’s most difficult choice. Steve grins and digs his fingers firmly into the fleshiness of his hips, preparing to flip them back over. But Bucky grunts in protest, and then he puts his hands on Steve's chest and shoves him back down to the bed with an adorable little omega growl. Steve feels his surge of confidence and playful dominance through the bond, and he grins up at him, understanding what he wants. “Yeah?”

Bucky pulls his bottom lip into his mouth and bites it, a little bit of self-consciousness slipping back in, even as he nods. “Uh huh. Can I?”

Steve groans. He sits up and yanks Bucky against him, one hand threaded into his hair just so he can kiss him, hard, one single time. He falls back down to the bed. “Of course you can,” he tells him, grabbing his hips again and kneading his fingers in. “Go on.”

His enthusiastic response seems to wipe away any remaining traces of Bucky’s doubt. The boy's scent is pure again, unpolluted by shame or uncertainty, and he licks his lips and focuses intently on kneeling up, reaching around behind himself for Steve’s cock, and lining it up with his entrance.

Steve helps him along, holding his dick steady at the base so that Bucky can focus on relaxing and taking him inside his body. “Hey,” he whispers, getting Bucky’s attention back on him. “Keep your eyes on me, okay?” Bucky flushes and exhales shakily at the command. He nods, eyes fixed on Steve’s face even as he lowers himself down and they touch. Steve’s cockhead presses, breaches Bucky’s body, and he sees Bucky’s lips part and his brow pinch.

"Oh."

“Just like that,” Steve soothes, petting his flank with one hand, guiding his hip down with the other. Bucky groans quietly as he sinks down and bottoms out, and Steve rewards him with a deep rumble of approval. “Thaat’s it, Honey. Oh, good boy.”

Bucky mewls and falls forward, bracing both hands on Steve’s chest. His eyes are clamped shut tightly and he starts moving, rocking forwards and back, hard and fast. But Steve only lets him have a moment of that frantic grinding before he’s shushing him and coaxing him to sit back, slow down, and open his eyes. “Yeah,” he says, stroking up to his waist and back down in praise. He tugs and pulls his hips, guiding him into the right motions. “Slow and easy. That’s right. Keep those pretty eyes open so Alpha can see, yeah?” Bucky nods, his pleasure-pained face and desperation for Steve's guidance just about the sweetest, most erotic thing Steve’s ever seen. He nods along encouragingly with Bucky. “Good boy. That's it. Look right at me while you make us feel so good.”

Bucky does, sitting back the way that Steve’s positioned him and learning to roll his hips in that slow, luxurious grind that feels absolutely exquisite. He’s able to keep at it that way for a long while, too, before his breathing eventually starts to pick up, getting heavier and faster, his face and chest gorgeously flushed. The wet sounds of all his slick are more intense, and Steve can tell from the scent of him, from the feeling of his cunt tightening and rippling around his dick, that he’s close to his second orgasm. Steve clenches his jaw and digs his heels into the sheets so he can fuck up against Bucky's grinding. He can feel his knot pulsing, about to swell. “Baby,” he grits out. “M’close.”

“Steve.”

“I’m gonna knot you,” he gasps. “Buck, oh, I’m gonna.”

It’s the first time he’s ever not asked it as a question, but he doesn’t have to worry about consent, because Bucky makes it immediately clear that Steve’s knot is exactly what he wants. “Fuck yeah,” he whines, face crumpling and both of his hands shooting forward to brace on Steve’s chest again. He grinds harder, faster, more desperately like he’d done in the beginning, and this time Steve lets him. He curses and wraps his arms around Bucky’s back when the boy collapses onto him. His knot pops, and Bucky wails and comes.

Steve shouts as he starts to come, too, his balls pulling up tight and his focus narrowing down to nothing but the point where their bodies are joined. God, it feels so good, so good, sofuckinggood. His hips rut mindlessly against their tie and he clutches onto Bucky, muffling his moans in the omega’s neck. He gasps and has to force his mouth away from Bucky’s bonding glands at the last second, when he realizes what he’s aiming for. He pants into the top of his shoulder instead as he comes. He loses track of space and time for that first, excruciating minute of his orgasm, and then flows back into himself for the heavenly three or four minutes of languorous pleasure that follow.

Meanwhile, Bucky pants and grinds himself out to at least one more climax, then collapses on Steve’s chest in sweaty exhaustion. "Oh. Oh, god."

Steve moans and wraps his arms fully around Bucky's waist, hugging their bodies tightly together while his balls keep emptying. "Hmmm," he sighs blissfully, eyes closed and nose buried in Bucky's hair. "'Mega."

Bucky whimpers a little and squirms on his knot, repeating his name in a tired, whispered slur, again and again, right against Steve’s left pec: “Steve, Ssteve … mmm, Ssteeve.”

Steve kisses the top of Bucky’s head and hums some more. He thinks he mumbles something in the general vicinity of, “Luv you,” before he drifts off to sleep, his cock still buried deep and his omega’s adoring, sated whispers still ringing in his ears.

Art: @hopelessartgeek

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[bigassmoth]

What in Hell is Bad Lucifer x reader 2nd pov r18,

Clit Clinic (roleplay, temperature play, medical kink, bondage, overstimulation, watersports(squirting), slight body modification (non-perm clit ring))

"The demons are quite rough with you." Lucifers voice came from between your legs. It was awkward enough laying down with your knees slightly parted- without him stating the obvious-all you could manage in response was a hum. You were dressed in a thin white hospital gown- much softer and silkier than you were familiar with in the human realm. The fabric pooled at your stomach as Lucifer lifted your legs, fully exposing your bare pussy to the slightly chilly room. You yelped in surprise and reflexively jerked away but Lucifer held firm. He frowns and lets out a short puff of disapproval.

"You will need additional treatment." He releases your legs and stands up. While you frantically pull your gown down to cover your cold lower body, Lucifer begins fiddling with the rigging system that hangs over the bed. You assumed the structure was in place for aiding mobility and keeping medical equipment organized but then Lucifer attached a set of fur-lined leather cuffs. Your eyes go wide and your throat dry.

"What do I need treatment for?" Your voice comes out husky and that alone is enough for Lucifers cock to start swelling. He looks at you and wordlessly holds out his hand. You place your ankle into his palm and settle into a more comfortable position as he raises your leg to the cuff and gently binds it.

"I will get cold. And I want a pillow." You request while offering him your other ankle. Lucifer hums again while he finishes buckling you in, taking a moment to look at your exposed bottom before leaving the room. You squirm once alone, you would be able to unbuckle yourself but it was more fun to pretend helplessness.

Lucifer comes back with a pillow and a hot compress which he slides under your hips to warm your lower back. You take the pillow from him and adjust it behind your neck as Lucifer straps your knees to each side of the rigging. Testing your restraints, your feet are held fast in the air while it becomes impossible to close your legs. Your hips wiggle but the motion is limited.

While you were feeling out your position, Lucifer had grabbed a number of items on a tray. He sat in his chair and rolled to the edge of your bed. You lifted your head but wasnt able to see what was on the tray. Without giving you a warning, something warm and wet touched your mound. A warm towel which was used to clean your pubic region, lips, clit, and the outside of your holes. Lucifers hands helped guide the cloth where is needed to go, he had already coated his gloves with warm lube. You hummed with his ministrations, trying not to tense and wiggle your ass as he rubbed tight circles in your asshole with the towel. Mammon had trained your body well.

Lucifer still wasnt done with cleaning as he peeled back the hood of your clit and used a wet q-tip to circle it. Your legs jerked against the restraints, his touch was firm despite the area being so tender. You cant think if you have ever had someone pay such close attention to the inner-most skin of your clit before- that even the hood felt tingly. As you pant above him, Lucifer finishes. His hands leave your pussy and you let out a breath you hadnt realized you were holding. Your hole throbs as your half-hard clit stands as evidence to the upcoming treat.

"Good, we will start with this." Lucifers voice is a thick whisper of anticipation. A smooth, cool, metal instrument coated in lube begins to caress your clit. You moan and squeeze your hands around your (now useless) gown. The instrument is rounded and gently scooped, perfectly sliding into hood and aroundyour clit again. Your noises escalate in pitch. He moves out from your folds to use the instrument to rub circles on the tip of your clit.

"Lucifer i-its hard." You are of course talking about your poor abused nub. He hums.

"Yes but we need more. I dont want your clit to be able to hide after this. To do that it must become swollen enough for me to see it through your underwear." The most youve ever heard him say at once and its that. Your heart is in your throat and you uselessly squirm.

"Ah- thats so embarrassing!" You play to the fantasy, remembering that angels are kept erect in cages. It was Lucifers remix of his past experience, having you express sexual energy without it being confined to metal.

The sensations on your clit stop. "Dont worry, it will go down by the time you leave." He misinterpreted your tone and casts you a slightly worried look while rubbing a hand over your calf.

You bite your lip and do your best to present a pitiful look. "Ah but Im here for two days...how will you know its still hard? Will you make me show you? Will I have to walk around in only thin underwear?"

Lucifers hot breath begins hitting your pussy as he pants, his face flushed.

"If you behave then you can wear clothes." His hands are rubbing the outside of your thighs, one gloves and smearing lube on your skin and the other sweaty and hot. When you nod your submission, Lucifer groans. This was a fantasy of his from being an angel, forced to contain his own raging sexual desire while cultivating and worshipping his Gods.

He picked up a bullet vibrator next and placed it below your clit so the vibrator just barely grazed the underside. You groaned and couldnt stop your twitching hips.

"Ah-wait I havent gone to the bat-" you start to panic but Lucifer only grinds the vibrator directly against the opening of your urethra. Your pussy clenches against nothing with only the ghost of vibrations to keep it company. The tender roof of your urethral canal directing vibrations into your clit. You cry as you squirt, Lucifer only removing the vibrator after you lost full control of your bladder. You whimper in the aftermath, legs trembling. Lucifer presss the vibrator directly to your clit before you have time to recover, causing you to thrash in the bed.

"Behave," he removes the vibrator while he speaks and pets your inner thigh with his free hand. "Or else."

"O-or else what?" Your body is shivering as you ask. Lucifer sets down the vibrator. You feel a band of cold metal slip over your clit, a loose fit, a jolt of electricity runs up your spine.

"A ring."

Lucifer groans out his threat and you moan in response. You wiggle your hips and whine.

"That wont work on me. its too big."

He is panting against you like a dog, going as far as to lean his cheek against your leg. Lucifers eyes meet your in a daze, both of you in dazed anticipation.

"It will fit." He picks up another tool from the table.

And fit it did. The process took about an hour and a half of rubbing in creams, using vibrators, and pulling out multiple orgasms from you without once touching your pussy or ass. With the ring at the base of your clit under the hood, your organ was forcibly erect. It would have been better to be naked, the crotchless panties you wore scratched at your clit. Lucifer checked on you frequently, lifting your skirt (he required easy access) to view the stickiness between your thighs. Politely he would lap up your arousal- never poking his tongue inside you despite your begging. Once cleaned he would perform "maintainance" on your abused clit, assuring you that it was necessary to keep it hard. He would suck and lick at your clit through the underwear until the fabric would cling to you. Then without providing you real sexual relief he would pull away and you would endure until he graced you with his attention again.

That night you went to his room for your final check. He removed the ring and sat your aching hole on his cock. But his hands held your hips down to his, forcing you to take all of his uncomfortable length. Despite your sweet kisses to his mouth he wouldnt move. Even worse, he came when he entered you so he wasnt in the state of desperation you were.

"Pleasure yourself." He whispered against your lips. You whined but relented.

"Only if you properly fuck me after, ok?"

Lucifer nodded eagerly, his entire body shaking. His eyes watched with rapt attention as you gathered some of his cum which had leaked from your hole. Your fingertips worked your clit and in a matter of seconds you were screaming as an orgasm shot through you. Lucifer groaned and released again, your pussy had been aching for hours and now held him in an authoritative vicegrip.

"Forgive me" Lucifer said to no one in particular as he finally began pumping in and out of you. You clung to his shoulders and sang his praises finally getting relief for the sweet burn he had lit in you. Lucifer came again shortly after, tears pricking his eyes as they roll back into his head. It was a delicious taboo, to break his oath of servitude to pleasure himself alongside you.

[cebwrites]

A more fluffy request one if that's okay?

With Law, Barto and Kidd:

They get sick, either from overworking or a plain cough and their s/o decides not only to take upon themselves to take care of them but to pamper as well, as in bringing their favourites things and food. In the end however, they fal asleep close to their bed. How would they react?

HERE IS YOUR REQ FROM DUCKING NOVEMBER WAAAAA <///3

masc reader (law), gn reader (barto, kidd) he/they law word count: 1.3k

taking care of them when they get sick (Law, Bartolomeo, Kidd)

Law

Stubborn to admit that they’re sick in the first place, even less reluctant to accept help - and the thought of being pampered of all things irks him even more

Law is difficult most days and overworks himself often. but even he knows when it’s time to put the pen down and hole themself in their office for a few days until this sickness passes; you manage to wrestle him into his own bed only by sheer strength and the point that the room you share with him would be much easier to disinfect afterwards than an office full of books, equipment, and god knows what else

They only fully relent when you reassure them that Bepo has more than enough space on his cuddly body for you to bunk with him temporarily - though you could’ve sworn that you saw your partner pout for a fraction of a second before Law rolled over to cough into their pillows

Nevertheless, Law is appreciative when you accompany them on nights that would otherwise be spent with Penguin and Shachi arguing over the semantics of a dialogue change from the manga to movie interpretation of their beloved Sora comics, unable to meet with them now 

You don’t understand everything Law talks about but you have enough cursory knowledge to get by and, occasionally, when you ask a relevant question you get to see Law light up even through their blocked nose and scratchy voice, always eager to infodump about his favorited childhood series 

Law knows that you don’t share the same enthusiasm for it but the fact that you’re still here, listening to him ramble on and on (their ‘reward’ for letting you spoon feed medication to them) about something dear to them - warms their heart more than any homemade soup and onigiri wombo combo in the world ever could

In the end it’s Law who pulls an extra blanket over you when you fall asleep at their bedside listening to your partner’s elated infodumping, Law would dim the lights and simply lay there, running his fingers through your hair

A huge part of him wants to give you a good night kiss, pull his boyfriend close as always and fall asleep with your body heat pulling them under, but they exercise restraint for now - for now, Law bundles himself up as best he can under the comforter you two would normally share and wills themself to dreamland with the promise of being able to hold his boyfriend as close as they want to soon enough

Kidd

Decrepit, dying, put-upon (not so) little man; Kidd feels like ASS and he’s going to make it everyone else’s damn problem for as long as his immune system continues to make him feel this awful

Yes he’s bossy, demanding, and borderline intolerable on the regular for shits n giggles, but now he’s doing it out of spite and also Killer he feels like shiiiiit

Kidd barks that you’re ‘babying’ him too much despite complaining all day - he snaps you for changing the compress on his ungrateful, nagging head, refuses to take his medication until you and Killer wrestle it into him, but at the very least after that Kidd’s too tired to fight you on the soup that’s put in front of him (as if he’d turn his nose up at Killer’s food anyway)

For all the shit that Kidd gives you for pampering his ass while he’s withering away in bed, he does appreciate the company, if not the attention - if he’s going to be stuck here feeling like a useless captain to his crew, it might as well be with you

Once the medication starts to kick in and his temper begins mellowing out the sleepier he gets, Kidd might even give you a little peak into his feelings with a small, barely audible thanks - and then a louder one shouted, followed by a pillow thrown at you when he gets fed up with your teasing about it

Killer finds you combing your hand through your partner’s flaming hair when he comes to check up on Kidd later, conked out unceremoniously with his head in your lap, he pulls up a chair to massage the captain’s stub - knowing he’ll be thankful for it later whether Kidd mentions it or not - and the two of you share light conversation with hushed laughs late into the night, not needing to keep your voices down because Kidd was such a heavy sleeper 

Kidd wakes up well into the evening, he still feels like complete garbage but that has more to do with the fact that he slept for 13 hours straight rather than any kind of sickness; in fact, aside that he feels perfectly fine, his sinuses are cleared and his head doesn’t feel like it’s in a vice anymore

He’d catch you snoozing on a chair by his bed, head leaned back to the wall with one of the most undignified expressions Kidd’s ever seen - still, you had been the one to put up with the most of his shit (more than usual) all week, so Kidd spares you this time 

Kidd carries you as gently as he can, surprisingly, onto the empty side of his bed, taking a moment to admire how the setting sunlight through his blinds dances across your face, enthralled for just a minute before he huffs, plants a kiss on your forehead, and stumbles his way into the kitchen while you catch up on much-needed rest, if those dark circles under your eyes had anything to say about it

The little ingrate does, however, laugh his damn ass off when you catch a cold two days later from laying in his still germ infested sheets and pillows

Bartolomeo

The exact opposite of the two rat bastards above, Bartolomeo is nothing but grateful for you nursing him back to health and will not shut up about it

He acts the same as he would normally, refusing to stay in bed until his legs buckle (the ol' "I'll be fine, I'll walk it off" mentality), refuses to adhere to bedrest, barks orders while potentially getting others sick, and is overall a pain to everyone on board

Everyone but you, his beloved, that is

The moment you return to the ship be it with groceries or other duties, Bartolomeo is chastened - tucked away under warm covers and begrudgingly being fed soup by you as if he doesn't like it

Gambia would almost be surprised if he didn't see the way Barto wilted under the infamous 'looks' you gave him, but doesn't fail to complain at least a little since it took him and maybe two other crew members to wrangle their unruly captain to take his medicine, let alone get in bed in the first place, and now the rooster's acting like he's the most darlingest little angel on the Grand Line - or well, he's trying to, for your sake

You notice the smugness after a little bit, how he enjoys having your attention on him at the drop of the hat just because "under the weather" now - for the first few days, sure, but after a week? you suspected he was just hamming it up so you'd fawn over him just a little longer in your own special ways

Ultimately the jig was up once you found him tiptoeing out of 'ordered' bedrest to sneak some booze back into your shared room, but nothing a little sheepish grin couldn't fix (he was whacked and dragged back to captain's duties post-haste)

On one night during his actual sickness though, in his fever induced delirium, he wakes up to see you sleeping by his bedside, looking equally as exhausted as he feels - his bones are bound in lead and it makes him dizzy to even move his head too much so all he can do is watch

Using Herculean strength to simply raise his arm enough to brush your bangs aside so he could have a better look at your face before going under again - Bartolomeo can't remember how long he was awake for or if even that was a dream, but you do wake up with his hand on your back (aching, from sleeping hunched over) and the sound of his love confession in your ears

[sleepdeprivedsimp234]

Saw your post, so idk how would the states act when they're sick, do you think they even can get sick?

OOOO FUN >:D

And yes I do think that they can get sick, it’s just harder for them to get sick than normal……humans *gags*

Gov: this bitch just works it off. maybe he’ll take some meds and a hot shower, but otherwise, he ain’t doin anythin.

Loui: the amount of time that it takes this mf to realize and acknowledge that he’s even sick- it’s astronomical. He won’t even notice half the time cuz of how often he gets sick (listen the health care down there is terrible so there’s no way in hell I’m giving him a strong immune system). And by the time he does notice, he’s in the Medical Room™️ cuz he passed out and is getting a scolding from Massachusetts. He’s an idiot, but we love him <3

Texas: Texas is like Gov, except he won’t do anything to treat his illness. He’ll just down a Celsius or five and get back to work cuz he’s a dumbass. Yes he does end up in the Medical Room™️ pretty often. And he’ll still try acting like he’s not sick, even if he’s actively throwing up.

Florida: his dumbass jumps into nasty lakes and swims with alligators and probably licks vending machines and doorknobs for fun, and ends up perfectly fine. Ish. But then he gets bit by a mosquito and is dying to West Nile virus. He’s kinda dramatic and whiny too, but not as much as the next state.

Cali: THIS MAN. THIS MAN HERE. HE STARTS WEAVING POETRY IF HE FEELS THAT HIS THROAT IS EVEN A LITTLE BIT SCRATCHY. DRAMATIC ASS 🫵

NY: See there’s two sides to this one for him. On one hand, yay he doesn’t have to talk to people, but on the other hand, he feels weak and basically useless cuz he’s not able to protect the others if needed. Also like- if this bitch gets sick, he’s REALLY sick. Like- influenza x5. It’s bad. And sad to see.

[horce-divorce]

eternally grateful for anyone who will do any form of email or textual communication with my audhd ass... i am finally getting in touch w a disability lawyer to set up a consult. it is NERVE. WRACKING. and i keep telling myself oooh i should just call them, i should just call them... i eventually caved and emailed them and that was so much easier wtf. they said hey sure we'll reach out to you. and STILL i was like what if i just called them... for what. she just said she'd call me. that is so much easier.

my roommate/landlady already works w this office and she said they are AWESOME about being patient w her when she doesnt call back or gets overwhelmed, and that they are always reassuring her that's why they're there.

anyway im just setting up a consult so idfk... if i have a case worth pursuing... but i guess we will find out!!!! hopefully they at least let me down easy if it is not.

im thinking about a lot of stuff today but one thought i keep coming back around it no matter what is how i wouldnt even BE disabled if we had proper medical care in this stupid godforsaken useless country.

like sure you hear the abstract about it, having free healthcare/socialized medicine would save X billions of dollars! or whatever. or the opposite, how we are spending however many trillions on ER visits and other stuff that ends up being more costly than preventative medicine/just housing people and so forth.

but what that actually means is sorry bastards like me are out here suffering in excruciating pain, undiagnosed or written off for decades, unable to work the whole time and having to beg just to eat, while everyone calls us lazy. it took me 10 years to get a diagnosis.

and once I did, they still effectively told me to kick rocks. they insisted im not a candidate for the only treatment, and refused me any other symptom management, pain relief, physical therapy, referrals, anything. they gave me nothing. they told me to go smoke weed about it. they ACTUALLY told me that. (its legal here but still.)

even with the 10 years to diagnosis, if they had just referred me for surgery when I was diagnosed, during that sliver of a window of time when I was still house and would be for one more year, I COULD HAVE HAD THE SURGERY. now I cant, even if I could find a surgeon who'd have me, because I have nowhere to recover, on account of not being able to work and being homeless, due to the pain I need surgery for. see what a cute catch-22 that is

and its my friends and mutuals and strangers online who are footing that bill. instead of everyone just getting what they need i have to ask YOU GUYS to subsidize my SURVIVAL. instead of just like, getting the treatment I needed and going back to work eventually or whatever. no i get to languish out here in agony and then die begging for scraps because a handful of guys insist on treating PEOPLE and our CARE like numbers in a GAME, and when they lose it's US that foot the bill and pay with our actual lives, and somehow millions of us are just allowing them to do this like that's normal and okay.

idk theres a lot tied into applying for disability. my case had better be worth someone's time. i fear that it isnt, but it OUGHT to be. i just know that we live in a world so full of things that ought to or ought not be and the cruelty is the point, the purpose of the system is what it does. im used to being let down by all the 'resources' that are supposed to be saving me and its exhausting to get my hopes up. but heres hoping anyway, i guess.

[shinelikethunder]

caveat: if you're pushing the maximum recommended dose of naproxen for just a couple days a month, over and over like clockwork for years on end, because it's the only goddamn thing that makes a dent in your menstrual cramps... bro. i feel you. i've been there. i was there for two solid decades. i also ended up in the ER with a life-threatening stomach bleed twice in my late 20s and early 30s.

and here's the thing, i know it fucking blows and feels like an exercise in futility to insist that that particular source of pain absofuckinglutely needs to be dealt with because it is seriously fucking up your life. i know the brick wall of brush-offs and condescension you can hit trying to get evaluated for underlying conditions. i know that "it's just the joy of being a woman, hon, so suck it up and stick to Tylenol for a while" is a vile and laughable non-solution if you spend multiple days a month feeling like you're trying to pass kidney stones through your cervix. it's why i ended up in the ER twice; getting the shit scared out of me didn't fix the problem or magically present me with a better solution.

so, if you're in this unenviable but probably-way-too-common predicament too, i am taking you very gently by the hands to say: if the naproxen starts giving you stomach trouble, priority one is nuking your cramps from orbit. you can bang your head on the glass of the medical system about an endometriosis eval after you find a way to suppress your period. skipping your placebo weeks, depo-provera, hormonal IUD, whatever works for your situation and gets you able to white-knuckle it without the stuff that's showing signs of destroying your stomach lining. because if you destroy it much further you'll be off all NSAIDS for a while and stuck with Tylenol, which is notoriously useless for menstrual cramps.

also... naproxen girlies, ibuprofen girlies, all of you. if you ever wake up weak and lightheaded and can barely stagger to the bathroom to shit out what looks like a bunch of black tar... gurl that is all the blood you could've been vomiting, coming out the other end instead. the reason you're dizzy is BLOOD LOSS. someone else needs to get your ass to the hospital NOW before you collapse.

Every time I see another ibuprofen post on this site I'm like STOP

STOP

Stop.

Take that after a meal. Take it with a big glass of water. Don't take it on an empty stomach EVER. Don't take it with alcohol. You will destroy your stomach. You will end up with an ulcer. You will vomit blood. I'm not exaggerating.

Yes, you. Yes, it will happen to cute little you. With your cute little bottle of miracles. Ibuprofen really does that to your body.

Love, an adult person over 35 who can't take NSAIDs anymore

[irreversiblydamagedmeow]

Ever since I was young I’ve just been different. Not like, quirky, but just worse. I remember in fourth grade I had a project to do. I looked at mine in comparison to everybody else’s projects. Mine was just not as good. And I tried my best, my hardest. I put in a lot of effort, I mean it felt like a lot to me. Well whatever. It’s just one project right?

But then later it was other things too. My hair, it just was never normal. I’ve been dying my hair since I was little and ig it’s more popular now, but when I was doing it in elementary school and upper elementary school, people made fun of me. But I know that’s something that was a choice so I don’t want to count that.

Something else that does count, imo, though is when I was in 6th grade and I had a solar system project. Once again it was just a million times worse than everybody else’s. We also had a project where we had to make a marble maze. I’m not sure why. That was so random, and very complicated to an idiot like me.

That project was one of the worst times of my life. I faked sick multiple days so I wouldn’t have to go to school when it was time to present the project. I ended up doing the project, but of course worse than everybody else. I only had like 2 friends at the time and they partnered up (they knew each other longer anyway) and I was left alone. Everybody else in my class made nice ass roller coasters for their little marbles, and mine was made of paper. And tape. It was so shitty. I hated myself for it

Later on I realized this was something that was not going away. I don’t have a normal, pretty face. I’m an ugly person. As a kid I was just thinking “it’ll go away when I have a glow up”, but that never happened. I mean who knows, maybe one day at 25 I’ll be beautiful, but I doubt it. I need to give up on waiting for something good.

I used to be an average sized girl, but then I started stupid useless medications and they made me gain weight. I’m convinced that’s why I gained weight because it didn’t start until after the meds and I didn’t change my eating habits. I hate myself so much. I was like 110 at my lowest, which isn’t that low, but so much better than I am right now. Now I’m 175 and I just hate myself. I’m so ugly.

There’s nothing redeemable about me anymore. When I was younger I had the excuse of just being a kid. When I was skinny, I had that (being skinny). But now I’m just fat and ugly. There is no saving me. I need to work out but I’m so fucking lazy and unmotivated to do anything. I never go anywhere, or do anything. I’m just a useless person.

As I’m sure you can tell from reading this, I think of myself very highly! I’m joking obviously.

My point with all of this is that I am never going to be as pretty as anybody else, or as talented. I will just never be equal in general. There is no saving me. I’m better off killing myself!

[puppygirlsounding]

I'm at my wits end.

Trying not to lose all sense of composure. I keep trying to put on the mask and act happy for what I have, but I can't keep it up anymore. This week has eaten at me in a way I can't push aside with happy thoughts. All of my shit keeps breaking and I don't have the money to replace it. My bank has screwed me out of $120 because of their sudden system changes. My building managers still haven't fixed my payments to reflect re-leasing. Making it look like I'll have to pay month to month fees until they get their shit together. I probably won't even have enough money for rent because of their uselessness. I have medical problems cropping up purely from stress. My job is threatening my employment constantly because of us being beholden to the whims of our client. The list goes on.

It feels like I was kicked down a flight of stairs. The ragdoll all the way down the steps wasn't good enough entertainment. Now my ass is getting mulched into the steps by a bodybuilder on the way down. I'm so tired. It's my weekend and I can't even enjoy it. Because for every good thing, like my HRT dosage getting upped, I'm met with 5 setbacks.

I'm spiraling, I spent all week feeling like a failure. Now I'm spending my weekend defeated.

[bittwitchy]

i’m gonna be a thousand percent real w you guys for a min, its gonna be under a read more, and it revolves around fears and pains and scary medical things and g/ov3r/nm3nt bullshit and stuff which is uhhh destroying me mentally and physically ig ahahahhaa

so like as some ppl know, when i was leaving work late nov/early dec of 22, i fell and injured my ‘leg’, it was a few days before i turned 26 and i couldnt get a doc appt in time w a real doc, and ofc bc i was on the male parentals insurance and it was based out of texas despite US being in california, i got completely fucked over bc they didnt want ro cover shit and i had to argue with them til almost the very end of december or so just to see a nurse practitioner who didnt know wtf she was gonna do, and refused to listen to me when i said i was not going to have insurance in a week. i cannot afford any expansive anything right now and anything that i have to do needed to be done before the end of december. all she said was ‘i hope you get better then, but they will call you when they feel like it.’

its been over a year, im still not better, because i was not clocked in at the time, and was injured in the parking lot, hr already said they wont cover it. even if i was only at that location (not my home location) for them, i was not clocked in and therefore they hold no responsibility, and the parking lot had no cameras anyways. its all just word of mouth so. i got fucked there too. C/alo/ptima has been fujcing useless and wont even send me my new insurance card so i can get a new regular pcp who will refill even just my fucking inhaler because the guy they gave me refused to even refill that.

now, when ive gotten the leg scans, they cant find anything. they dont know whats wrong. ‘oh youre just fat, lose weight and you’ll be fine.’

breathing shots pain into my leg. and the pains been spreading. ive been getting a little bit of weird treatment at work despite dlat out ignoring and pushing through my pain to please people and that wasnt even enough because i still got some pretty weird ass treatment from some ppl in management despite the fact im not choosing this, and ignoring it makes everything worse.

and ive been trying to push through and ignore it and hope it heels, because the medical system isnt going to help me, neither is the company, and i live in california. i really just cant afford the medical system here anyways.

i think when i fell, it clipped a nerve into my spine, because for those unaware im that special brand of au/tistic who can tell you the exact point of origin of my pain. from tooth pain to headaches to even searing body aches, i can tell you where it starts and where it ends. but i also have a massive pain tolerance (ive had 8 root canals and local anesthesia doesnt work on me thanks to adhd, i can and have had 9 bottles injected in and nothing happened, so i just dont use it and ignore the horrendous fucking pain of your nerves being killed because i dont want to bother anyone. THAT is my pain tolerance level, and i cant tolerate this.)

the pain is spreading to both of my legs, and when i ignore it i end up toppling over. i used to be a hula dancer, professional as a kid, still for rec until i got hurt. i cant do it anymore. i can barely walk. when i force myself into events and shit that requires walking, it feels like my entire body is being crushed the next day, and during the actual day of doing but thats obvious.

i dont know how to take it anymore, nothing is helping, no one is helping me, and even people who try to help me its like the system is working for them despite refusing to work for me. i really well and truly dont know what to do about this anymore. the pain from my spine isnt only in that leg now, its in both legs and keeps creeping to my arms. im obviously not gonna get help from the company, and even talking to a lawyer its a fucking long shot that i could get anything done from them at all since the parking lot didnt have cameras. i already have eds, and this has been setting off the issues relating to it even more. i was meant to get tested for pots before i lost insurance back then, but new doctor doesnt believe women can experience pain at all, and are lying for attention if they admit to it.

breathing is fucking painful, and i dont know what to do. i can just keep doing what im doing and ignoring my pain and pushing through to please everyone because its not like the system helps, but the system is working for others and when i do what they recommend i do it not only still doesnt work for me, but i get threats from it. i dont know if its because im autistic or not, indont know why it works for others and not for me, i dont understand and when i try to get answers all people say is ‘just push through’ but im trying and its making everything worse and im breaking my body more and more by just pushing through and indont want to get kicked off of c/alo/ptima for bothering them too much by not getting answers despite my efforts because i did get threatened and incant afford $250-500 monthly fees from my state if i dont have insurance. $250 is more than i earn a week. jts not like im getting hours at work. and i really just am so fucking broken and tired and confused and done i dont know what to do and im tired of being in pain. i just want the pain to go away. i dont want to cry anymore. i dont want to be confused and scared and alone anymore. its like everythings collapsing down and i dont know what to do.

and to top it all off, the skin welts and lesions that my old doctor was so terrified of me having are back. theyre a symbolism of my white blood cell count, and last time i got them he had me get blood tests every few months because he was worried about my developing leukemia. and everytime it got too high he gave me something to try snd prevent it, and ultimately i was ‘almost there but narrowly escaped’, and i dont know how im supposed to just keep pushing and keep living and keep going it that happens too. especially when incant afford a blood test right now. i dont know what im doing or who i am anymore and its destroying every semblance of who i am that i had left, and i just want to make everyone happy but im not happy. im not happy snd im not getting help snd i feel so defeated and indont understand how other people can argue andnits fine but i do it and i get threatened or retaliated against.

indont understand how if i do whats recommended im misbehaving and being wrong but others can do what they want. its like im a kid again but instrad of being beaten im just getting fucked over medically even more snd my body gets to further destroy itself and i dont know whay the fuck left there is to do. its like everythings collapsing down on me, jm not getting the samw care or treatment others get, and i dont think im going to because i cant keep fighting a system thats going to only verbally threaten me because they wont respond to emails. i cant use recorded conversations in court here. im scared and im tired and im in constant pain and had to beg my old doctor to send an inhaler refill without my seeing him because the new one wouldnt and my lungs were giving out. i dont want to die but it feels like its heading rhat way whether i want to or not because nothing and nobody will help me and when they try they get mad at me for ‘not trying harder’ but im doijt everythint they say and more and its nothing. nothings coming crom it but my suffering. but if i say its not my fault its ‘making excuses’ and injust cant keep doing this anymore. im so tired, and im in so much pain, and indont know what to do.

[ejaydoeshisbest]

I left my grandmother by herself at Jollibee.

For the past three to four nights, I could not sleep well. I thought at first it was just the cold. It's always cold in the Philippines from December to January. Sometimes until late February. But yesterday, it felt like I wanted to drop on the floor before the sun had even set. I couldn't regulate my emotions well by late afternoon. I thought that by sleeping early, say 8PM, I could wake up at 4 AM or 5 AM. But nope, I'm waking up to little sleep. Woke up at 2:45 AM. Maybe it isn’t the cold, but the jitters that I know that I should be working diligently by now? My good side, my mind, is shutting down my lazy bones and telling my system to work because I needed to pay back my aunties when they sent me for my medical treatments. Even though my aunts told me that I don't owe them any debt. My mind is also reminding me that my own parents are old but still working. "What’s your excuse?" it says to me. It reminds me that all my friends and most of my cousins are working and sacrificing and building their own futures and making their dreams happen while I remain useless. It hurts, too, that I can't reach out and talk to them about my problems because that would be a dick move. It reminds me that as each day passes, all of them are moving to brighter, greener places while I remain stuck. It would be nice if I could just fix my life with the sudden thought that made me finally jump out of bed: “Well, what if you did your best, Ejay? You haven't actually given it your all. Work without complaints. Only feel gratitude.” It would be nice if all that needed to be done was to think, always, that if my old parents can do it, that if my own younger sister can function and achieve high grades in Physics and Maths with little sleep, so too can I. Even with breathing struggles.

___

The morning started out fine, but then rapidly fell. I must have overexerted myself. I was walking around the neighborhood, trying to achieve consistency. I was thinking that I really needed to get stronger, and I was proud of myself for completing my route. I thought actually that it was getting easier. But then Lola and I planned to go to Jollibee for breakfast and I thought, yes, a fun adventure. That would be nice. But when we were in the senior citizen's line, I suddenly could not breathe again. It was like my chest was being crushed by an elephant. I was trying to calm myself, but every breath constricted my throat and I felt that I wasn’t getting enough air. I was panicking because I left my inhaler at home, though before this point, I was convincing myself that my breathing struggles were just because of anxiety. I had to leave my grandmother at the cashier to go out and breathe and calm myself down. I had to convince myself that I was not in any real danger and that my mind was making me believe in my worst fear. I calmed myself down enough to go back. But as soon as I sat down with my grandmother, my fears gripped me again and I was sure that this was not anxiety, but asthma. It felt like I was breathing through a straw. It felt like that first time when I went to the emergency room. Maybe I overexerted myself again, just like last time. I really tried to stay with my grandmother and have breakfast with her, but without my inhaler near me to convince me I was fine, my mind freaked out and I could not reign it in. I was wrestling with the suffocating fear. I wasn’t sure if my breathing was because I was having an anxiety attack or an asthma attack. Each breath was painful, and I tried focusing on the people, but now my mind was screaming at me to go either to the emergency room or back to the house. Fearing the payment for an emergency room in Angono, Rizal, I special-fared my ass back home. I miss my aunties. When they were with me, I felt calm. We would go near stores and have a great time. I told my grandmother to stay put as I went home to grab my medicines. I told her to wait for me. When I arrived, I took one puff of the inhaler and called my aunties to tell them where I left Lola. I apologized to them for being an unreliable weak caretaker. Thankfully, a relative picked her up from where I left her and took her home safely.

___

After, I took a shower and a nap. When I woke up, I could breathe better. Which further confuses me as to whether this was asthma or anxiety. Or asthma-induced anxiety. Maybe I should really stop listening to my anxiety and proactively calm it down. I realized that maybe I could have kept my cool and let it flow through me if I did not listen to its threats. I know that it is hard to do, since my body immediately goes to this fight-or-flight response. Even now as I stand under my grandmother's tin roof, I am terrified that I might collapse because maybe I could not stand the afternoon heat. As I am typing this and recounting many less-than-ideal moments, I already feel anxious. So I know that I have to face my fears head-on because if not, I'm afraid that almost everything would be a trigger: Our furbaby, the heat, the cold, people, etc. I need to counter this. I wish I could fall back to the mindset and body I had in college. Strong. Independent. Brave. Curious. I don't want my anxiety to ruin the rest of my life. I don't want to waste it. I want to taste sugar and other foods again. I want to travel.

___

Auntie C and I shared a similar insight: I need to identify the root cause of all my stress and anxiety. I think it's primarily because I still lack a job coupled with my old age. I wish I could just switch my mindset from fearing things to believing that life is such a fun adventure. Not overthinking and managing daily stressors. Maybe I believe that I am in a bad place, like a cornered animal, instead of believing that I can change my future and have my life back. I must learn how to rebuild myself.

___

That night, some of the relatives from my mother's side came to our house. I saw my siblings again, and my mother's sister. An aunt I was not particularly fond of. I'll call her Tita L. But even though I wasn't fond of her, I apologized for my rude behavior. I snubbed her at our last encounter. I told her that I was angry at almost everyone back then. Which was partly true. I couldn't very well say that I hated my mother's side of the family because they bullied me since childhood and made me feel like I was at fault for not adjusting. Yes, I am sensitive, but they're also rowdy as hell. We hugged and she told me it was all right.

But the best part of it all was, I suddenly found that I could finally breathe. Like a miracle. I was taking quick breaths, sure, but my throat wasn't as constricted as before. I would like to say that perhaps social interaction was all it took and that this was all just a made-up thing in my mind after all, but I wasn't sure. It happened when I started to feel the familiar start of anxiety as I saw all these people running around and talking inside our house, but then I SQUASHED IT DOWN HARD and focused on the people around me, thinking adamantly that I WILL NOT HAVE A PANIC ATTACK OR BE ANXIOUS IN FRONT OF THEM. Then, just like that, I didn’t. Hopefully, this trick will work in the future.

Apologized din to my sister, repeating all the words I said to my parents. I am sorry that I haven’t contributed as much to the family, and sorry that I haven’t contributed to her tuition. Sorry for bickering and fighting. And I am so, so proud of her that she has high grades and that she deserved it. She didn’t get as much sleep and watch entertainment for that. I told her that her best friend, who has been such a good influence on her, is always welcome at our house.

[catboy-ptsd]

hey jsyk this blog is run by a (medically recognized, not diagnosed bc i don't have clinical distress) mixed origins system of seven

so system intro ig

cat, he/it, host or core or whatever, goofball

shiho, xe/she, traumagenic protector, punk ass mothafucka

jace, they/them, traumagenic depressionholder, sensitive white boy

ash, it/bun/vamp/angel/she, traumagenic "persecutor", ashley graves kinnie

aiden, he/him, endogenic prevara (walk-in from a maladaptive daydream), useless scene werewolf

the scribble, he/it, traumagenic little, mischievious scamp

timmy, he/him, prolly traumagenic but who knows, unholy levels of sillyness

that's basically it, don't be weird about it, maybe we'll tag our posts with who's posting and maybe we won't

[thurisazsalail]

Open Letter to Nutritionists + Dieticians

I'm trying to find some kind of data that seems impossible. I've had actual registered dieticians. Nutritionists are absolutely useless. My GP, one of several I've had in the past few years, is telling me to ~just diet and exercise!!!~ even when I remind her that I cannot, in fact, physically exercise without significant risk of injury, and I cannot eat most things because of celiac disorder and autoimmune issues. I’m fine when told something stupid like “diet and exercise!!!” offhand because that actually applies to most people, but when I specifically remind a doc which patient I am, and bring documentation from other doctors to show those things, they turn nasty.

I’m not fine with your stupid-ass “helpfulness” if your “helpfulness” isn’t just not helpful, but is actually actively harmful.

Every article and source I’ve come across for the past few years conflates WEIGHT gain/loss with FAT gain/loss.

These are NOT THE SAME THING.

The professional resources online are not helping. It's the same regurgitated "information" about gluten free foods being high carb, low nutrient, and how we all just think we can eat whatever we want and not "gain weight." I am literally within 5 pounds of my weight 10 years ago. It's on my medical records. I was only diagnosed w celiac in 2018, after months of NOT being able to eat. Without high fat foods like fries and peanut butter, I often cannot break 1000 calories a day. I have gone from ~4-6US size to a ~12-16, depending on brand. My first burden is to somehow sort through millions of search results that change "lose fat" to "lose weight" when in fact, I do not need to lose any weight. I need to lose fat.

THEN I need to find a way to get calories, any calories, without drinking oil and trying to stuff down vegetables that I physically cannot digest. Shockingly, by the time someone thought that maybe my lifelong issues with getting sick every time I ate something that wasn't rice or soda was maybe a Real Problem, I ended up with several other GI issues like dysphagia and early gastroparesis.

I could never eat things like broccoli without my skin breaking out into a rash. There has never been part of my life where I could eat peas. How weird that it turns out, my aversion to "health food" was my autoimmune system telling me that it's a legume allergy. I can have peanuts and nothing else.

So what do I do when it seems like every. single. article. and video. professional or otherwise... is just... a rehash of this one? It isn't just this article, by the way. I'm using this one as a short, clear example of every point I've seen defeated, not just by myself, but by dozens and dozens of followers of other nutrition and celiac-oriented education accounts on social media. https://www.todaysdietitian.com/enewsletter/enews_1013_01.shtml Some of these points are not wrong! - People do tend to better absorb nutrients and put on weight when the intestines begin healing - Not having diarrhea is a Good Thing, and probably helps someone keep on weight - Lots of GF foods right now have no impetus to be "healthy" at all.

I suspect it's because "going gluten free" has been a fad diet, so the people on a diet (who made the industry profitable) are getting nutrients elsewhere; people with celiac disease have no choice but to buy those items. Therefore, there is no financial reason to improve them. Lots are totally empty, devoid of nutrients in any meaningful amounts. I have found some nutritious products recently BUT they have used chickpeas or pea flours. Great, I can't eat those now. I lost quite a few formerly available foods to chickpeas. Cool, cool.

I wonder how many of these doctors ever look into comorbidities in their patients and think about how many of us have chronic illnesses which prevent us from mentally and physically compiling lists of groceries and cooking equipment, making each and every single meal from scratch, cooking it perfectly, cleaning up, and having energy to eat. From the sheer number of articles I've read in the past year, I'm betting on "not many."

In this article, Amy Jones, MS, RD, LD attributes weight gain to eating too much. That our portion sizes are out of control! We need to practice "mindfully eating." Just use smaller plates and don’t watch TV while we eat (yes those are actually in the article.) The fatties are just fat because we gorge on everything we see. We're like the Langoliers, but with the $12 gluten free CPK frozen pizzas at Wal-mart.