#Pregnancy and Breastfeeding

[shubhragoyal]

Irregular Periods - Symptoms Cause and Treatment Options

Women often experience irregular periods as a result of their hormones. Does this issue affect you as well? Do not worry about it because it is treatable, and you can also identify the causes to take necessary precautions!

There can be several reasons for irregular periods, like hormonal imbalances, stress, birth control, etc. You cannot control your periods, but tracking their pattern is a minor deal! If you want to find out more about the probable causes of irregular menstruation and solution or available treatment options for the same, make sure to read this blog!

What Exactly Are Irregular Periods?

You can generally get your period once within 28 days; this cycle repeats itself. Some women may experience it similarly, while some may get their periods in less predictable cycles!

This irregularity in the period cycle can be due to many reasons. You can identify whether you are going through something similar with the help of certain basic symptoms.

·        Changes in the number of days between your periods.

·        The blood flow during periods is less or more than you normally experience.

·        Variation in the duration of periods.

If you are witnessing these changes, there is a high chance of irregular periods! Well, this condition is treatable, and you can take proper measures after learning its exact causes.

Prominent Causes Behind an Irregular Menstrual Cycle

Are you curious about what causes the menstrual cycle to change dates every month?

This condition may have some underlying causes, most of which can be treated. It is also possible to work to ensure that your periods are regular.

The major and most common cause is hormone changes, which is why many girls hitting puberty or women approaching menopause to go through irregular periods the most! Besides this, the other major causes behind irregular menstrual cycle are -

·        Birth Control Pills: Have you recently changed your regular birth control pills? Because this can be a strong cause of irregularity in your periods. As the pills vary in estrogen or progesterone levels, switching from regular pills may directly influence your period cycle!

·        IUD: If you are using an IUD, it can be another major reason behind irregular menstrual cycles. It is even known to cause cramps, which can be relieved with pain relievers or heating pads.

·        Polycystic Ovary Syndrome: Are you often missing your periods and noticing other changes like excessive hair fall? Well, this can be the impact of Polycystic Ovary Syndrome. In this hormonal disorder, your body has higher amounts of male hormones, leading to growth in facial hair, thinning hair, and others.

·        Excessive Exercise: Excessive exercise may sometimes lead to missed periods or other irregularities. And in the worst scenario, your periods may completely halt! So, you should consult an expert or a trainer before taking up extreme physical exercises.

·        Pregnancy and Breastfeeding: During pregnancy, your periods will stop altogether for that definite duration! Besides that, breastfeeding can affect your period cycle too, and all these are due to the interference of the hormones!

·        Thyroid Disease: If you suffer from thyroid disease, your body will get either too little or excess essential hormones. However, if your periods come with heavy bleeding and last longer than usual, this can signify hypothyroidism! In the opposite case, periods last for short, which is hyperthyroidism.

·        Stress: In the hectic lifestyle of today's times, stress is something you can hardly avert! Taking stress over every aspect around you creates constraints for that part of the brain responsible for maintaining a balance between the hormone levels!

All these are some of the major reasons behind missed periods and other irregularities. You may also notice adverse effects of irregular periods on the body, like fatigue, bone health issues, or even infertility!

Read More: https://www.drshubhragoyal.com/welcome/blogs/irregular-periods---symptoms-cause-and-treatment-options

[chososdiscordkitten]

Just A Taste.

Synopsis: Gojo wants to taste readers breast milk •⩊•

Pairing: Gojo xFem!Reader Content: some plot, mostly nasty stuff, no penetrative sex, nursing handjob, ADULT NURSING, he tries to convince reader to let him suck a lil sum, gojo being weird, mentions he didn't have a mom, BREASTFEEDING, mommy kink if you squint, PREGNANCY KINK, whiny satoru, overall just a lot of nipple and breast play

Dedicated to: @busyreader17 , my beloved for hyping me up to write this, ty<;33

(a.n) why do I only ever write about gojo being a pregnancy freak? has to be studied. wrote this listening to very dramatic classical music

MDNI

Gojo has always been hard headed, never thinking twice on talking back or starting an argument just to prove he was right. And that little quirk about him only enhanced when his child was born.

Even if you were the one who spent countless hours in the emergency room trying to give birth to his big headed child- Satoru insisted that he knew best for his offspring. And in extension- he knew what was best for you. 

“Formula isn't good enough for my child.” he retorted when you mentioned how painful it was to breastfeed his gnawing child.

And when you'd bring up that you were ready to start working again- “You don't have to work- that's why you have me.” 

Little by little Gojo started dictating most of the aspects of your life. There was little to no resistance from you though- you didn't mind his overbearing fatherly tendencies when it came to protecting his family.

But there was one thing, just one thing you'd complain about if you could.

As stubborn as Satoru was in day to day life- he was equally, if not more stubborn in bed. Especially in one specific area.

Gojo begged. Begged on his knees as he watched you pump. Sitting on the couch and bouncing your knee as his hands held onto your calf, “I just want to taste-” he pouted, eyebrows pinched upwards. 

“Satoru.” you gritted through your teeth- hearing the whirr of the machine on your chest. He sighed as he placed his forehead to your knee, mumbling something about how mean you were to him.

This newfound need to taste the milk from your breasts was mildly irritating, not being able to take your shirt off without his eyes prying- parting his lips before asking again.  

Satoru would be lying if he said that anytime your breasts would leak against his chest midway through fucking- it didn’t take every ounce of strength he had to not trail his lips down to your puffy nipple. 

So, so, very tempting. But he'd refrain from acting on his urges, knowing you'd probably shake him off or tell him to stop completely. So instead of doing it without your permission, he settled on asking you anytime he could. 

At first you thought this was just him wanting to know what it tasted like, but when you offered him a small sip from a cup he said- “If i'm gonna drink it, I want it straight from the source.” to which you said, “I guess you're never gonna taste it then.” before tossing the small sip down the sink. 

He must've asked 3 times a day. Gojo needed it so bad- he would beg on his knees at your feet, looking up at you like an abused puppy that you were being far too cruel to.

And you always said no. 

But, your objections sounded like ‘maybe one day’ to his ears. 

So one very early morning, 4 maybe 5 am- you were standing at the kitchen counter, holding the little pumping machine to your right breast as your face churned with a grimace. Your nipples were sore, from the machine sucking harshly and from how often you had to do it.

You had just started filling one of the little bottles, and as though Gojo knew what you were doing, he walked in. Squinting at you, almost asking what you were doing at this hour- till his eyes landed on your breasts you didn't bother to cover. “Go back to sleep, I'll be done soon.” you muttered in a groggy voice as the whirring woke Satoru up from the hazy state he was in. 

He took a few steps towards you- resting his elbows on the counter as he watched the machine milk you. Jealous that a stupid machine had the right to and he didn't. 

The sun not even breaching the skyline made the room dim and dusky. 

You didn't mind if he watched- but that's all you'd ever grant him. But directly after sex- when his chest would be drippng with the light cream colored liquid that leaked from your breasts while he fucked you- and as he looked down to his sculped body in the bathroom, the sink running on a hand towel as you waited for him to come back to help clean you up.

His fingers couldn't help but swipe at the liquid before placing it on his tongue. The whisper of your taste on his tongue made one thing clear in his mind. If he couldn’t wrap his lips around your nipple and suck till there was nothing left- if you wouldn’t grant him that one favor, the closest thing he had was to fuck you in missionary from now on. Hoping one day he would ask you mid way through- and you’d be too fucked out to say anything but yes.  

True if he really wanted to taste you- he could just reach into the freezer and thaw a bag of the pumped milk to try it. But he didn't just want to taste it- he wanted to feel it fill his mouth directly from the source. How warm it would be as it slid down his throat. And god- from the small tastes he's gotten, it's so sweet. You taste so fucking sweet.

His eyes watched as the plastic bottle filled up with milk, almost hypnotized by the liquid. You winced as the machine sucked at your sore nipple, which only made the cogs in Satoru’s brain start churning with schemes. 

With soft eyes he fluttered his white eyelashes up to you, “Does it hurt?” he whispered, looking at your expression that looked more irritated than pained. You nodded your head slowly, “It feels like when your foot is asleep,” you muttered, “but not the ‘numb’ kind of asleep, like the kind that hurts anytime you move it.” you continued as you closed your eyes, exhausted and very ready to go back to bed. 

Satoru raised himself from the counter, taking steps over to you as you felt his presence loom next to you. “Nd you have to do it all the time too-” he scoffed, playing the sympathy card so you'd think he was on your side. 

He pressed a kiss to your bare shoulder, “They always look so full,”  he murmured against your skin, you hummed in response, agreeing with what he was saying as he wrapped his hand around your waist, placing his chin on your shoulder. “So painful.” he hummed as his hands dared to trace up your bare torso. 

“I can help, y’know.” The tone he said those words sounded sincere- almost as though he was just trying to make this easier for you, you let out a hum in disbelief, “Unless you're a baby who refuses to latch- no you can't.” you mumbled with a groggy voice. 

Your words came out as a retort- but in Gojo’s ears they sounded like a challenge. 

It was true, his child had the same stubborness as Satoru, refusing to eat anything that didn’t come from a plastic bottle. Thus the pumping and the overproduction of milk that was piled high in the freezer by now. You had half the mind to sell it or empty them down the drain, I mean what child is gonna drink that much? Even if it was a Gojo heir- no child drinks that much milk. 

But the thought pained Satoru, it only reminded him of the times where that frozen milk could have been in his mouth rather than in plastic bags. 

Satoru kept a light touch as his hand trailed to the side of your ribs, scooping the bottom of the free breast you hadn’t pumped yet. Feeling the weight in his hand as he lifted it lightly, and you were just tired enough to let him. “They're so heavy.” he whispered in a coo as you blinked your eyes open, fully registering what he was trying to do. 

You furrowed your eyebrows, “Don't be gross, ‘toru.” you spoke in a clearer voice, earning a small laugh to ring into your ear as his hand gently grasped the side of your full breast. “What's gross about wantin’ to help?” He murmured in your ear, his hand keeping a light graze as his pointer finger brushed past your tender nipple, you hissed at the feeling causing Satoru to hum an understanding ‘I know.’ into your ear. 

You couldn't see his face but you were sure he was pleased with himself, “That's all I wanna do.” his words sounded wholehearted. Almost earnest as his large hand held onto your breast with a light touch, “I'll be sooo gentle, I promise.” he closed his eyes feeling your breast fill his palm with ease, “I just wanna help you,” he whispered as he pressed the off button on the little machine, guiding your hand to place it on the counter as he pressed an honest kiss to your ear. 

You knew that filling those little bottles would have taken way too long, then the thought of how much faster it would be if you let him- “Let me help you.” 

Satoru’s silver tongue was never your favorite part of him, you never liked how easy it was for him to hide the truth behind seemingly sincere words. 

His brushing fingertips against your sore nipples didn't help either, his fingers were very, very close to squeezing the suede ring of color around the hardened peak- Satoru wanted to see if small rivulets would spurt out of your nipples if he squeezed. 

You inhaled feeling the warm pads of his fingertip caress at your tender nipple. If Satoru wasn't trying to convince you of something, you'd admit it felt nice. You scoffed, “Don't make it nasty ‘toru-” you caved, sighing with an exhausted tone, feeling his warm palms lift your heavy breasts.

Gojo’s mouth had been salivating from the second he walked into the kitchen, and as you said those words he gulped hard. “Course not~” he mumbled, allowing the truth to seep out in his words. 

And as he guided you to sit onto the couch as you've done plenty of times when you'd pump, he already knew how he wanted to be fed, he had thought about it over and over again. And settled on this position, his back was pressed against the tops of your thighs. His long legs extended onto the couch- unashamed of his cock rising from staring at the cream droplet that threatened to fall from your nipple.

Even if this act was obscene and borderlining on too far- you were grateful he didn't make any teasing remarks on how little it took for him to convince you this time. That and how his mouth would have been filled soon enough, so you wouldn't worry about that. 

Your hand was on the back of his head, fingers filled with lily white hair as he fought back a smile. Only the gleam in his eyes showed you just how excited he was. Satoru’s lips parted as his eyes darted back and forth from your sore nipple up to your face that was warm with embarrassment. All but asking for permission as you watched his bottom lip quiver in anticipation. 

With pinched eyebrows, you guided his head towards your aching breast, Gojo’s lips parted awaiting your puffy nipple. His tongue covered the bottom of his teeth- a low groan rumbled onto your skin as he lightly pressed his parted lips onto the skin around your nipple.

You watched with a grimace look on your face, not knowing why he would offer this- let alone enjoy it. 

Satoru’s tongue circled at your hardening nipple, lapping softly as he tried to keep his promise of being gentle as the essence of the milk lingered on his tongue. A small huff left your lip as he rested his tongue at the bottom of your nipple, protecting it from his pearly teeth. 

His hands rested atop his tummy as you caressed the back of his scalp, you nodded your head as a form of permission, giving Satoru the ‘ok’ that he could start- his lips were slow to start sucking, pulling your nipple further into his mouth with a lactogenic motion from his tongue.

Before now, Satoru wasn't fully sure how to nurse if you let him, he knew it wasn't like just sucking your nipple. But the second he felt the sore apex of your breast press against the roof of his mouth, sucking in as much of your breast as he could, his tongue massaged the bottom of your tit to coax the milk to come out. 

The motion came to him as an instinct, as though nursing was engraved in his marrow from the minute he was pulled into this world. 

It took very little effort to pull milk to the surface. But the moan that reverberated onto your breast from a fat droplet hitting Satoru’s tongue- it was bordering on pornographic. It was as though he saw the pearly gates of heaven when the droplet infiltrated the taste buds of his tongue.

No matter how much fantasizing he did, or any of the ghost-like tastes- nothing. Nothing, could have prepared him for how fucking heavenly you tasted.

Your milk was warm, thick enough to leave a light cast on his tongue as he tried to suckle more liquid from your nipple. Gojo’s mouth was latched onto you in a way you knew it would hurt to pull him off.

Satoru’s gaze threatened to shut as you looked down at him. His head coddled in your hand as he kept faltering eye contact with you. Only making this feel even more salacious than it should have. 

No, this was only supposed to be a way for him to help- a way to remove the aching pressure from your breasts and save some time.

But that look in his eyes, the way his eyebrows were furrowed- almost as though he was sucking your tit in spite. 

That was till a bigger wave of your milk rushed into his mouth, earning an almost anguished whimper to pulse against your skin.

Your eyes squinted trying to figure out if he was exaggerating- only the way his eyes struggled to stay open, the blush across his cheeks and the satisfied smile on the perked corners of his lips, convinced you he was being genuine. 

With every ooze of the prized liquid he suckled from your plump breast, Satoru swallowed. Not wanting any to spill from his lips as you placed your hand on his chest that was threatening to start hyperventilating. Too focused on suckling as much milk as he could to even consider keeping a steady breathing pattern. The warmth of his mouth on your tender nipple was soothing, comforting almost.

Gojo’s eyes were half lidded and hazy- trying his very best not to let them roll to the back of his head as the dulcet milk trickled down his throat. 

Unwillingly a small whimper fled his latched lips as his eyes closed, chest heaving from the taste of you coating his mouth. You huffed a small breath from his greedy tongue sucking harder on your nipple. 

Rubbing your hand on his chest to soothe the little whimpers that rumbled your breast, thankful his eyes were closed when they rolled to the back of his head. His trapped cock was shouting at him for attention, be it instinct or just wanting to relieve the ache- his hand slowly trailed down his tummy, only your eyes were too focused on his seemingly intoxicated expression to notice. 

Your hand holding his head up started rubbing gently at his scalp, seeing frustration form on his delicate features- unknowing why. But you were almost trying to soothe him as whimpers vibrated onto your breast. Watching his eyebrows furrow and the growing blush on his cheeks to deepen as his eyes fluttered open.

Looking up at you from the slightly obstructed view from below, your palm on his chest being able to feel how hard his heart was beating. And as your eyebrows furrowed with a breathy sigh- you watched the familiar look in Satoru’s eyes glimmer past white lashes. 

You inhaled sharply, feeling his tongue trail from massaging the bottom of your nipple to the little mound that provided the milk. Tracing the tip of his tongue on your bud causing you to hiss his name in a warning. 

That's all it took for him to continue suckling on your sore nipple. You were about to rest back onto the couch with a sigh, caressing the back of his head as you felt relief wash over your shoulders, allowing him to take what he needed and then some. 

That was till your eye caught his bicep flexing- and you trailed your eyes down his pale arm parting your lips in shock as you watched his unashamed hand palm himself through his gray sweats. 

You huffed- only it came out in a breathy sigh rather than in the reprimanding tone you meant it to. Satoru only moaned as he heard his name fall from your lips, feeling his mouth suck rougher in order to pull more milk from your heavy breast that threatened to suffocate his nose.

His hand hesitantly removed itself from the stiff bulge of his sweats, landing on your wrist that was on his chest. His hazy cerulean eyes filled with the kind of mist you only see when he's premeditated something long before you knew of it.

Satoru’s fingers wrapped around your wrist as he greedily drank from your nipple, so greedily that the corners of his mouth were threatening to leak the honeyed fluid- he was suckling so much, he couldn't swallow fast enough.  

And as the little droplets stained the sides of Gojo’s jaw, trailing down his pale skin- he led your hand to extend over to his strained bulge. Knowing if you truly were uncomfortable by this, you would've pulled away the second you saw him palming himself.

You inhaled as his hand led you to his cock by your wrist, gasping softly with a tingle on your cheeks from how hard he was. Satoru placed his larger hand atop yours, pressing it onto his painful erection with a whine rippling through your skin. 

You flashed your eyes from the gray fabric that trapped his neglected cock, back to his eyes. Threatening to blink shut as you kept a gentle grasp on his bulge. Even if he was the one in your lap, nursing at your breast in a way that can only be described as voracious. That look on his face was smug, almost as though he was right this entire time and you were the hard headed one.

Satoru trailed his hand onto your forearm, smiling to himself as you started softly palming his prominent bulge. 

Your eyebrows were pinched upwards, trying very, very hard not to shift your thighs beneath his back to relieve the ache forming between them.

You felt bad, like the only reason he was palming himself- almost in a sad way, was because you allowed this to happen. It wasn't guilt- but you wanted to apologize in some way. 

Satoru’s mouth suckled in no pattern, his only goal was to drain every single gush of milk you offered. No matter how fervent he must've looked right now, he didn’t care. As long as he could feel your warmth in his throat- your taste coating the cavern of his mouth- he didn’t care if he looked like a starved man.

You sighed almost in pity as he let out various throaty whimpers, firmening your fingers around the print in his sweats. “Oh ‘toru~” you soothed, knowing how hard he was- it had to be painful. Your cheeks tingling and warm as his hips bucked up into your hand for more friction. 

And as your hand cradled onto the back of his head, you maneuvered the hand on his bulge to free it from its torment. 

For the first time since he latched onto your nipple, his lips parted from your breast with a low moan. The cold morning air hitting his pinkening tip causing him to furrow his eyebrows, but all it took was for the feeling to settle before he attached onto your draining nipple once more.

You didn't hesitate to place your hand onto his base, feeling the light trails of his precum on his shaft from how worked up he was, tempting a gasp to leave his lips, you looked at him.

And as though he was made to do it- Satoru lightly ran his tongue at your budding nipple, lapping up the white sweetness that leaked from your breast. 

You kept a light touch on his cock, his hand on your upper arm before gently resting it on the swell of your other breast. Thinking to himself how rude of him that he was neglecting your other equally tender nipple. 

Satoru lightly thumbed your nipple, feeling light drips wet his thumb. Enticing you to slowly start stroking him, stopping your grasp right before your fingers could roll onto his flushed tip. Knowing he wouldn't last long if you worked over his cockhead. 

The moans that rumbled from Gojo’s throat and onto your sensitive skin were full of desperation and bliss. You watched him in almost pity- trickles of your milk falling from the sides of his lips, making trails of white drip down his cheeks.

It didn’t take long for him to finish draining your breast, somewhere in his mind he knew there was nothing left in your left tit, but that didn't stop him from trying to slurp up any remaining droplets.

Gojo’s cheeks felt like they were boiling on his face, and with one last lap of your nipple, he unlatched from your breast. Huffing softly as his breath tickled your damp nipple, he looked up at you, an amazed and out of breath expression formed on his face as you wiggled your eyebrows. 

It was embarrassing, the way your milk left trails of a light white film on his cheeks, the way he was breathing heavily with his cock in your hand. Vulnerable. 

Satoru saw your flushed face- and to comfort you he raised himself from the tops of your thighs lightly, keeping a massaging hand on your unsucked breast as he pressed his plump lips to yours.

It was filthy- Mouths dancing against each other in pure delirium. Being able to taste yourself on his tongue- on his spit laced with milk. It was like Gojo did that to show you just how exquisite you tasted. Only for your hand to keep its snail pace, avoidant of his crying tip. 

His lips pulled from yours, looking into your eyes and thumbing your weeping white nipple. Soft opened mouth moans coming from his lips as your hand stroked tenderly.

Rare were the times when Satoru was silent during intimacy, usually babbling teasing nonsense. But this time, the carnal look in his eye told you everything you needed to know. His senseless prattling wasn't even a thought in his mind right now, burning beneath his skin was pure and utter hunger. Hunger, to taste you- to drink from you. To nurse, over and over again. 

The one thought that lingered in his mind was to make sure to keep you pregnant- keep you in a state to continue producing the warm comfort he hardly had as a child. 

Gojo licked his bottom lip, mouth salivating as he felt the warm liquid trickle onto his palm. He leaned back slightly, looking down to your swollen nipple rolling between his fingers. Then trailing his gaze to your slow stroking hand, Gojo was sure he had never been so hard in his life till now. 

He licked his lips before cupping the side of your heavy breast in his palm, slowly shifting himself down to align himself with your right breast. Your hand followed the back of his scap, guiding him to latch onto your dripping nipple. 

Satoru opened his mouth, closing his eyes when he felt the skin of your breast fill his mouth again. Running his tongue across your neglected nipple and tasting the essence his fingers had squeezed out. A throaty whine leaving his nose as he started suckling, so enthralled by your taste and the gentle way you stroked him. Keeping his kneading hand on the side of your breast to assist in guiding more milk into his mouth.

Your cheeks were warm, tingling from how lewd he looked at that moment. The little whimpers that came from him didn't help either. 

Happily, Satoru let those unfiltered whines pour from him, if it meant you'd know how much he was enjoying himself. 

And as your hand slightly passed his tip on the upturn, he gasped against you. Almost as a warning, he sucked harder on your sore nipple in return. Gojo let out muffled cries from your hand stroking past his tip, even if you couldn't see it- his eyes were rolled to the back of his head as he suckled instinctively. You looked away from his face- churned with an insatiable greed. 

Looking at his pinkening cock in your hand as the veins on his lower abdomen stood proud beneath his skin. His chest was heaving once more, forced to take heavy inhales through his nose as he felt the knot in his tummy tighten. 

Satoru’s whines started to rumble louder against you, watching an inhale reach down his torso, his tummy caving from how hard he exhaled. He was so close. So fucking close and fighting it at this point. You could see it in his scrunched eyebrows and desperate suckles. 

You lightly scratched your nails onto his scalp, “It’s okay ‘toru,” you sighed softly, gaining his cerulean eyes to open slightly and look up at you. You were flustered sure, but you wanted to assure Satoru that he could cum whenever he liked. He didn't need to hold off for your sake. 

Only when he saw the soft smile on your lips- something deep within him snapped. It didn't click before, even with your hand tenderly stroking him and your tit in his mouth, even as he was nursing directly from your breast. It still didn't click. 

But when you soothed his whimpers, the tender smile you had on your lips as he took and took from you. The nurturing tone you assured him with. That's when it made sense. That's when he realized why he had been longing to help you in this way. 

Before he didn’t really question it- thought it was just something weird he found hot amongst all his other strange fantasies. But now. Now it made sense. 

Your mind was a mess, barely able to process the words that fell from your lips naturally. Gojo’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as you polished his cockhead, his hips bucking up into it in response. You watched as he let go of that final reservation, sucking harshly causing more of your milk to spill from the corners of his lips with frustrated whines. Being able to feel his orgasm tighten in his stomach. 

The hand on your breast was practically milking you, squeezing milk into his mouth rather than his tongue nursing at it, his nose was scrunched as he exhaled a ragged breath through his nose. Your nipple was starting to ache from the vibrating whimpers and moans, and instead of telling him to stop, you raked your fingers through his hair gently. “Shh, I know, I know.” you crooned, keeping a steady pace on his cock as he simmered his whimpers. 

Ever since Satoru told you he had little to no memories of his mother, you knew he had mommy issues. And when he started asking to taste your milk you were hesitant, knowing once that pandora's box was opened there was no use trying to close it again.

Only as you looked down at him, how content and blissful he looked- unlike anything you've ever seen before, you didn't mind if it didn’t close again. 

Satoru parted his eyes, feeling his orgasm slowly slip in his tummy, you watched as his eyes fluttered back to his head- mumbling something in the sound of ‘m’cummi-’ against your skin as you sped up your pace. His hips twitching up into your hand as you jerked him quickly, his lungs could barely handle how little air he was inhaling, his brain fuzzy as he slurped and lapped at your nipple. 

Gojo saw stars as you stroked him past the pinnacle you worked him up, his eyes squinted harshly as his lips unlatched from your breast, throaty groans mixed with whines fell from his lips as his orgasm oozed over your hand. When your thumb caressed the opening on his tip, his cock spurted out another pump of his cum with a whine. 

As you helped work through his orgasm, smaller pumps of his seed assisted in the wet strokes you gave him, Satoru latched back onto your breast with a content sigh, needing to drain as much as he could, his cock slowly softening in your hand. 

And as he drank the rest of your milk you rested your hand on his lower belly, waiting for him to finish taking what he needed. His mouth wasn’t suckling as frantically nor hurried as before. You relished in the warmth his lips provided with a sigh, closing your eyes as the sun started rising. Being able to see the light through your closed eyes. 

When Satoru couldn't taste any more milk coming from your drained breast, he hesitantly pulled away. Resting his head in your hand as he looked up to the ceiling hazily, milk drunk as your breasts obstructed his view.

He inhaled, “Throw away that stupid machine.” you sighed, knowing he’s hated the breast pump since he saw you use it for the first time. 

“What am I gonna do when you're not around?” you murmured, thinking of a world where you wouldn't have access to a pump. 

“Call me and I'll find you.” 

You let out a small laugh. Leaning your back onto the couch as Satoru setted on your hand. “So fucking weird.” You murmured, hearing him let out a smiley breath. 

Satoru sat up, turning to you with an endearing gaze, “Only cause I like you soooo much.” he claimed, pressing a kiss onto your temple before standing. Reaching out for your hand, ignoring the mess on his tummy, pulling you to stand as he led you to the master bathroom. 

“What do you want for breakfast?” you muttered behind him, watching him halt his steps and looking back at you, “What?” he asked with a smug smile and creased eyebrows. 

You furrowed your eyebrows, “...Breakfast?” not understanding what was confusing about the question. 

Satoru scoffed, “What for? You just fed me.” he spoke sweetly, watching the grimace on your face churn with an appalled ‘ugh!’ as you snapped your hand away from his. You scoffed as he reached for your hand again, pulling you into his arms. Peppering kisses over your features as you groaned.

“You’re so nasty.” you scoffed as he stepped forward, leading you into the bathroom with various kisses on your cheeks. 

You were sure this little activity Satoru found so much attraction in, would make its way into your daily routine. Only you didn't mind it as much as you thought you would.

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

writing this added 3 years to my life dead ass.

[bestlittlebunny]

I think my tits need some help remembering what they’re designed for. Can you show them?

[subbmissivesuccubus]

Kyojuro with a breastfeeding kink <3

Oh Anon you're so right <3

cw: Breastfeeding kink, pregnant reader.

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Kyojuro always had an obsession with your boobs.

Wasn't too surprising- a lot of men liked boobs.

But he was really- really obsessed with your tits. When you were dating and he'd come back from a long day of slaying demons, his favorite way to de-stress was to just lie down with you, your breasts bare and ready for him to snuggle up against, practically drooling when he finally took a nipple into his mouth. He'd suckle on you like a baby, the pressure differentiating as he'd suck like he was trying to milk you- like he was eager for a drink of something. He would suckle on one nipple for hours if you'd let him and even better, if you'd jerk him off at the same time.

While having sex, he'd always shower your breasts with attention. Whether it's groping or pinching or sucking or biting- a passionate night with Rengoku will always leave your nipples sucked raw and hickies marking your skin.

His obsession with your tits increased ten fold once you got pregnant, your breasts now full and swollen, getting milk ready for when your child would arrive. Your now husband just couldn't leave you alone. Forget the fact that he loved seeing you pregnant, belly getting bigger with each passing week, but seeing your breasts grow bigger and heavier got him more turned on than you could ever imagine.

He loved it when you complained about how uncomfortable you felt with such heavy breasts as it was the perfect opportunity to do what he loved: Suckle your nipples for hours and drinking up your milk~ He'd suck and suck and suck, ignoring the soreness of his jaw as his desire to taste you overtook any semblance of a rational thought. Only when you complain about being sore or if he drank all the milk of one breast already, will he switch over to your other nipple. He won't let a single drop go to waste. If he squeezes you with his hands and some milk spurts out, he's quick to lap it up, cock hardening at the slightest taste.

"H-Honey..." you said, threading your fingers through your mans flaming hair, tugging it as he gave you a particularly harsh suck, making your body shiver, "Once our baby is here- you can't keep drinking my milk, OK?"

The two of you were in bed, your back leaning against the headboard with your legs spread to accommodate for your husband. Your yukata was undone enough for your torso to be bare for him, Rengoku making sure to be careful of your belly as he lied on top of you, sucking your nipples. You could feel his hard cock press against your thigh, the man lightly humping you as he enjoyed himself. He growled against your skin, taking a few second to suck and gulp down the milk before separating from you. Your nipple was sucked raw, hard and covered with saliva, a drop of white at the tip.

"...they can share."

[peggyleeduh]

Breastfeeding has really changed me. Can you guess my cup size? 💋

[mychlapci]

Mommy kink Tfa Oppy, the first bot who volunteers to nurse from him is Bumblebee. Oppy tries to deny him at first, trying desperately to hold on to the notion that these are his teammates, not his children. But Bumblebee just climbs in his lap, looks up at him with these big, pleading, puppy dog optics, and whines out a "please, mommy?" And by Primus, Optimus is GONE. His chest plates retract and tits pop out so fast that they nearly smack Bee in the face, not that he's complaining.

Bee has a near religious experience from nursing from Optimus' bosom, so warm and sweet and welcoming. Bee was a cold constructed mech raised in a care center, he never had a Carrier to nurse from, but not anymore. Optimus would be his new carrier, his new mommy. Bee insists on Bulkhead and Prowl trying Optimus' milk too.

Bulkhead was nervous to nurse from him, being so big and could crush Optimus, but Oppy, now fully taken over by his carrier coding, insists that "you won't crush me, bulk, mommy can withstand it." Bulk is flustered by the mommy comment since he already has caretakers and the stopped breastfeeding ages ago, but relents and latches on easily. Optimus sits in Bulkhead's lap, cooing in his audials as he nurses, telling him how he's such a good boy for drinking his full of mommy's milk.

Ratchet and Prowl are a little concerned about Optimus and this programming glitch. So they decide the only way to correct the mistake is to give Oppy's carrier programming something to actually latch on to, a real sparkling. Each team member takes turns plowing into the young prime, fillinging him with transfluid and telling him he'll be a great mommy.

Soon he's got a litter of bitties in his forge and his carrier coding content and corrected. Of course that doesn't stop him getting revved up from being called mommy in berth and letting his teammates nurse from him.

that is the best way to fix Optimus' coding glitch, certainly. hgrhh got, head empty, just thinking about Optimus with a big, pregnant tummy, breastfeeding his teammates while taking his transfluid donations.

[nightshadedumplings]

I've had this sci-fi idea for a long time where there's this place where people can rent a room, and in all of the rooms there's this sort of vending machine. The vending machine gives options for all body types, physical characteristics, and genders. After a selection is made, the machine opens to reveal the body of whatever was chosen, and complete access and control is granted to the buyer. The people who are dispensed by the machine aren't able to move unless the buyer chooses to allow it, and they can't get out of the machine at all. Their faces are never visible to the buyer, but they can see everything that's happening.

The machine doesn't just allow the buyer to choose attributes they like, they can also make changes. The buyer might choose to breed their selection, after putting in the option for high fertility and adjusting the gestation period to just a couple of minutes. Their selection can see everything outside the machine, but they can't see what options are being selected, so they never know what's going to happen to them until it's already happening.

So, maybe they've gotten used to being used sexually, but this is the first time anyone has used any of those adjustment options. Suddenly, they start feeling a soreness in their chest, and growing pressure in the pit of their stomach. Soon, they can see their belly bulging out, and feel it becoming heavier on their frame. They scream, but the buyer can't hear them. All the buyer sees is their selection's belly swelling up with their brood, their entire body gaining a generous layer of fat, particularly their ass and chest. Soon, they have a proper pair of teats, and they begin to feel so full, they think they'll pop.

The growing babies inside their belly move more and more as the seconds pass, and as they become massive, they feel the babies turning, sinking lower towards their hips as cramps begin to seize them. Just then, the growth stops completely, the buyer having paused their pregnancy at the very start of labor. They gasp when the buyer latches suddenly onto their huge tit, readily drawing milk from it while their hand pumps it out of the other. The babies are eager to get out, thrashing around inside, distorting the surface of their otherwise smooth belly.

The buyer only stops nursing for a moment to make more adjustments, first setting for them to go very overdue, and then allowing them to finally go into active labor. They're startled when their belly grows bigger, and bigger, and when they feel like they'll surely burst, their water breaks. They scream, feeling a baby moving through their cervix, with nothing they can do about it other than to push. Their buyer just continues to breastfeed from them, feeling their contracting belly all over while they struggle to birth their baby. After what feels like forever, they feel the huge, round head beginning to bulge out of them, only for the buyer to make an adjustment to pause their labor. They push and push and push, but nothing happens. They're stuck crowning, unable to stop pushing despite knowing it's pointless, until they're allowed to give birth.

[the-ace-with-spades]

this is part two of this angsty post about Baby Bradley (you might wanna read it first, just to make sense of this part) - Slider POV

It’s late, too late, when he hears the front opening. He is instantly on alert — Shay’s been sleeping for two hours now, conked out by a whole day at work and cooking up a baby inside her — because it’s too late for visitors.

He almost hits Baby Goose with a baseball bat.

Bradley is taking his shoes off, the spare key they have in the flower pot at the front stairs lying near his backpack. His hands are covered in dirt and he’s looking at Ron with his doe eyes wide.

Everyone says he’s Goose’s mirror image but when he stands there, curly hair getting too long again and messy, with those innocent big eyes and head tilted back, all Ron sees is Carole.

It always makes him melt into a puddle, too.

“Do your folks know you’re here?” Ron will take the dead silence as a no. “How did you even get here?”

Bradley is allowed to take the bus on his own, now that they live in one, stable place and Mav had gone on the three major routes with him — the bus to school, to Ron and Sarah’s house, and to the base.

Ice still insists on driving him around everywhere, just because he is such a control freak.

Bradley’s voice is barely hearable and he isn’t meeting Ron’s eyes as he admits, “I walked.”

They don’t leave that far away — less than two miles — but an eleven-year-old should not be walking around alone on the streets past nine.

Ron takes a deep breath. “Look, I’m going to call Ice—”

“He’s at work,” Bradley interrupts, because of course he does — he always has an answer, growing into the mini Maverick that he is.

“Then I’ll call Mav,” Ron counters.

“He’s asleep.”

“Then you shoulda thought about that before you walked here at one in the morning,” Ron points out before he steps back into the kitchen to grab the phone off the wall.

Midway through the kitchen floor, still in the dark since he forgot to turn on the light, Ron feels a weight hanging onto his pajama sleeve. “Do you have to call him?”

“Buddy,” Ron says because he’s so weak against those big brown eyes but can’t just let Bradley get away with everything. What he did was dangerous. He could have gotten hit by a car, kidnapped, or lost, or—Ron doesn’t even want to think about all the things that could’ve happened.

“I promise I’ll go back home before Mav wakes up,” Bradley pleads.

That’s really not the problematic part in the whole situation. “And what about when Ice comes home and goes to check on you and you’re not there?”

Bradley turns his head away and mumbles under his breath, “He won’t.”

“He won’t what?”

“He won’t do that,” he says, eyes on the floor.

And Ron doesn’t know what it is but there’s just something in his voice, in the way it cracks despite being so quiet, and in his posture, the way he raises his shoulders like a guard — and it’s make something under skin crawl.

“Bradley, what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” he mumbles, turning away from him.

Ron is weak. He is getting bigger and bigger but he is still so tiny it feels like Ron could fit him in the palms of his hands. He looks even smaller, now, coiled up against Ron’s leg like he wants to turn invisible.

“Okay, you can stay the night—”

“Really?”

Ron would scold himself for falling for it, again, but Bradley’s eyes, even with the excitement in his voice, don’t lose the sad tinge completely.

“But only on the condition that I’ll call Mav anyway and tell him where you are,” Ron says, kind of proud of himself for not giving in completely. “And you have to get up bright and early tomorrow—today, so we can take you to school on time.”

He waves his hand, just so those doe eyes go away before he caves in completely. 

“Go get your jammies and make those pearly whites—”

“You’re talking to me like I’m five again,” Bradley says and Ron holds back a smile.

“You gotta deal with it, kid,” he says, shushing him upstairs. “Go, I’ll call Mav.”

Ice’s house (and Mav’s, no that he’d call it that, ever, Maverick will never be his brother-in-law, even if they actually get married someday, he's going to be at best a menace-in-law) is on their speed dial as number one.

He’s expected to wait a few minutes on the line, until Mav wakes up and strides huffing and puffing into the kitchen to pick up the phone, but he barely gets the second tone and hears, “Hello?”

“Mav—”

“Slider, this isn’t a good time, Bradley is—”

“—here,” Ron finishes for him. “He’s here, Mav, showed up about ten minutes ago. Says he walked here.”

“What?” Mav spits out. “I was about to call the goddamn police! Ice, I was about to call Ice!”

Ron’ll never admit it but he agrees that Ice probably would throw a bigger manhunt than the police if he found out Bradley was missing.

“Look, he doesn’t want to go home—”

“Oh, hell no, he’s coming home now, I’m getting my keys—”

“I already promised him he can stay the night,” Ron cuts in, feeling a headache coming.

“You can’t promise him stuff like that!”

Ron might be a dad-to-be only, but he can understand why Mav is pissed off. He certainly would prefer if his kid that he thought was missing came back home so he could at least see that he is safe and in one piece and maybe so he can ground his ass but Bradley—there’s just something off.

“What, do you want me to send him home so he runs off again to some unknown place in the middle of the night?”

“Oh, he can try,” Mav says. “Even if he somehow managed to sneak out again, I’ll now know where he is. I’m going to take my chances.”

“I don’t think he’ll come back here again, not knowing I sold him out to you and let you take him back home,” Ron says. He can hear Mav groan into the phone in frustration and he gets it, he really does, but— “He looks upset, Mav, okay, I don’t know what happened but he wouldn’t have sneaked out on a whim, you know that.”

It takes him fifteen minutes and about a dozen promises to talk Mav into letting Bradley stay the night — he knows Mav probably won’t sleep a blink anyway — but finally, Ron settles on making them some tea so they can have a talk about safety and not giving his parents a heart attack.

And about whatever made Bradley act out like that.

He comes back downstairs and the ginger tea is already lukewarm enough to drink — they only have ginger tea now because Sarah is still nauseous despite being well out of the first trimester. Bradley sits down with him at the table, his Spiderman pajamas on, takes a sip and promptly grimaces.

“That’s yacky,” Bradley says.

“Believe me, I know, kid. It was two against one,” he says, feeling sleepy out of a sudden. “Your aunt would bite my head off if I said anything, anyway.”

Bradley still drinks more because he’s a good kid that never complains. Or maybe because he doesn’t want to talk to Ron.

“You want to tell me why you left home so late?” he prompts. “Did you have a nightmare?”

Bradley crosses his legs on the chair — Ice would’ve told him to sit properly but he’s not here so Ron lets it slide. Bradley shakes his head, wordlessly.

“Did you argue with Mav?” Ron tries again. Bradley looks away, at their fridge and the family photos and their collection of sonograms, and shakes his head, eyes not present. It scares the shit out of Ron. “Bud? Did someone say something? Do something, to you?”

“No,” he says, finally, barely hearable. “I don’t want to talk about it.” 

Ron weighs his options. Bradley's always been a kid with lots and lots of emotions but usually, he wouldn't mind displaying them raw — he could push but he isn't sure whether that would help or harm the situation more. He doesn't want to pressure him but he also doesn't want him to feel like he's alone with whatever made him act like this.

“You want to sleep in your room? Or do you wanna sleep with us, today?”

"Could I—" he begins and then closes his mouth. Ron lets him think through whatever is going over in his head, waiting, until Bradley asks quietly, "Could I sleep with you?"

"Of course you can," Ron says straight away, still feeling unsettled, like he's missing something. "Just try not to wake up your aunt, she's really grumpy in the morning lately. Don't tell her that I said that, either."

*

Bradley’s been—quiet.

The night visits became frequent. Frequent enough that after the fourth time Ice, like the insomniac he is, woke up and went to check on Bradley to find him missing, Mav and Ice bought him a bike. It was safer if he had lights and a helmet on, and the trip to Ron and Sarah’s house took him less time that way. It still isn’t safe but Bradley hasn’t even tried to wake any of them to take him to Ron in a car, like they promised they would, so any alternative was better.

Ron can’t exactly pinpoint what changed aside from how Bradley’s no longer bubbling a mile a minute and how he seems both clingy and unusually detached from them. He’s been staying vaguely around them but never close enough to touch, like he used to.

Today’s been especially strange. Bradley hasn’t even let Sarah cuddle with him after dinner. He helped her prepare the food, quiet and way too focused on tasks for the bouncy eleven-year-old he is, just asking her what to do next and not even humming along to the radio in the kitchen.

Ron, if this was any other kid, would say he is jittery about the parent-teacher meeting and what his folks would hear while talking to his teacher but in all honesty, Bradley doesn’t have anything to worry about — he has perfect grades, and aside from that fight he’d gotten into a couple weeks ago Ice and Mav already know about, he is a sweet, a bit shy kid who isn't much trouble.

Ice and Mav show up to pick him up at half-past eight. Sarah’s already gone for a nap that will turn into nine hours of sleep and Ron and Bradley are quietly sitting in the living room, each reading their own book. Their faces are turned into a grimace from the minute they step in to greet Ron and Mav is observing the kid like a hawk.

Bradley curls his legs closer and gives Ron a very short look, the big doe eyes telling Ron he is about to ask if he can stay the night. Ron shakes his head before he does it long enough he’ll give in.

“Go say bye to your aunt, buddy,” Ice tells Bradley which is a code for an adults-only conversation.

Ron doesn’t like it.

“She’s asleep,” Bradley points out.

It’s the truth, but Mav still hasn’t said anything, just staring at Bradley, so Ron says, “You can wake her up for a minute, she’ll probably want to know you’re going and will give you a kiss goodbye.”

Bradley hesitates, looking between Ron and Ice like they're tricking him into something. He and Sarah didn't have the greatest of starts — she moved to California not long after Carole got diagnosed and was the least familiar face during that hard time, often completely omitted when Bradley sought out adult comfort. It's been getting better and better the more time they spent together, and Bradley's been especially warming up since they told him about the baby — Sarah would talk to Bradley about the pregnancy often, explaining different things, taking him to shop for baby clothes, letting him think of baby names, letting him touch the baby bump. Ron has thought that maybe Bradley finally felt included enough by her to include her in his little trusted family.

Ron sometimes wonders if it's because Bradley knows he'd almost become his stepdad before he and Carole called it quits — they never told him they were together, tried to test it out before Bradley became attached but maybe they hadn't done a good job of it. Maybe when they broke up when it kept on feeling weird with Goose's memory still in both their heads, they should've explained it to him. Maybe he felt like Sarah took Ron away from him and his mom when he started dating her not long after she moved to San Diego.

"You go, bud, you're probably the only person that won't make her grumpy," Ron encourages.

Bradley jumps off the couch and meticulously puts his bookmark in his book and closes it, careful not to crease the pages or the spine — in a mirror image of Ice, because of course — and walks away to the corridor.

They listen until the bedroom door closes behind him, Ice picks up Bradley’s book and puts it in his jacket’s inside pocket, and Ron turns back to the adults-only conversation with a heavy heart. 

“He’s apparently been asking about adoption,” Maverick finally says, barely audible.

“I thought you already adopted him. The guardianship was switched to custody after a year, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, he, uhm—”

He doesn't continue and it's scaring the shit out of Ron. He looks like a wreck of a person.

“He’s been asking whether we can give him up,” Ice supplies, voice perfectly leveled, his hands tucked into his jean pockets. Just, expressionless, really.

“For adoption?” Ron asks. Ice nods. “Jesus Christ.”

Even with how withdrawn Bradley's been, he'd have never gone into that territory with his theories.

No wonder Bradley didn't want to say a goddamn word about what was bothering him.

Ice takes a deep breath and says, voice urgent, "Look, he comes to you a lot when he's upset, did he say anything? Anything that could explain where all those questions came from?"

“No,” he denies instantly. “Do you think someone at school could, you know, be a bit too nosy again?”

They had that problem before, in Lemoore, straight after Carole's death and before they moved, when some concerned parents had started asking too many questions about who Mav was and how he was managing Bradley's childcare and who was Ice and why was Ice so involved. It was the whole reason CPS has even bothered to look at Mav's custody agreement and put Bradley in foster care for so long.

“Bradley barely talks to the other kids, still, even if someone’s parents—” Mav stops and his gaze gets all wet and it doesn't go away even when Ice grips his hand. "I don't know."

"Come on, you know it's not—You're doing everything the right way, Mav, he's been through a lot but you could see he is dealing with it now and he's been happy, it's not—"

Ron doesn't know what he wants to say.

"Just talk to him," he says in the end. "He's your kid, just make sure he knows that."

When he looks at Ice, he doesn't know how to react — he's never seen him looking so lost.

"Where's he anyway? He should be back by now—" he grumbles. Maybe actually having Bradley within their range of sight, unharmed and present and not at some strangers house god knows where would make them feel better. "I'll go get him."

Ron walks to their bedroom like a robot, trying to school his expression by to calm so his helplessness doesn't show.

"Buddy, what's taking so long, did you fall asleep too—"

He stops talking at the view he gets when he opens the door — Bradley is curled up around Sarah’s baby bump, his hand under her t-shirt, and Sarah is dozing off again with her fingers in his curls, blinking sleepily at Ron.

"The baby is kicking," he says and he's whispering like anything louder would spook the baby into hiding again.

“I’ll come back in five minutes, buddy,” Ron says, keeping his voice low.

*

Ron's been baby-proofing the house for what feels like weeks now and Sarah is still insisting it's not enough, finding new boops and beeps to improve. And Ron loves her, really, but he also still works about fifty hours a week and the kid is not going to even be moving much for at least six or seven months after they pop out.

They're certainly not going to let the kid out alone on the terrace for longer than that, he's sure, but he's also sure if he told that he's nine months pregnant wife, he'd be sleeping on the couch. 

So he's modifying the terrace, so they have baby doors to the steps and the spaces in the little fence around the elevation is baby-proofed with a bouncy mesh net that their baby can smash their face all they want and not fall off.

It's almost eight already and Ron is still going at it, knowing he won't have the time later in the week but also running on about five hours of sleep, when he hears Bradley's bike rattle on the gravel on their driveway.

"Hey, kid," he says, not turning around from the task and trusting that Bradley is not going to run over Sarah's pansies again. Ron really doesn't want to find her planting new ones while nine months pregnant and he knows she would. "You here for anything in particular or just passing by?"

Bradley stops the bike, getting off and carefully avoiding the flower rows, thankfully. He is walking the thing now, to leave it next to their ugly garden shed.

"I was sick the whole week and now I don't understand my science homework," he tells him. "Mr. Kraig said I should come to the extra classes but we have a test before that."

Ron doesn't look from where he's measuring the stupid tiny fence. "Isn't this something you usually do with Mav and Ice?"

“I didn’t want to bother them.”

“So you thought you’d bother me?”

It’s just a joke — if Ron was a little less tired, he’d have remembered that Bradley’s already been feeling fragile around all the adults in his life and not having the greatest of times in general. He’d have been less snarky or maybe he’d have said nothing or maybe he’d prodded a little bit about why Bradley doesn’t want Ice’s or Mav’s help with homework anymore.

It’s just a joke but he doesn’t even manage to turn around and he hears the bike’s chain rattle as the kid starts biking off god knows where, not looking back.

“Bradley—”

He stands up to go over him but the stupid baby doors are in place and he trips when he tries to jump over them, knocking down the roll with the mesh net. It unrolls on the grass and by the time he's untangled from it all, he can't see Bradley on either end of the street.

"Sarah—" he calls out as soon as he's back in the house. "Call Ice and tell them to call us if Bradley turns up back home."

"What? Ronnie, where are you going?"

He's grabbing his car keys because like hell he's just going to sit and wait.

Bradley didn't say a single thing, just ran out. He's not coming back to them, he knows, and he's not sure how long it'll be before he caves in and goes back home.

He doesn't like it. He doesn't like it all.

He keeps on driving around in circles between theirs and Ice's house, looking out for Bradley's bike anywhere on the road, turning up back to check with Sarah that Ice hasn't called every twenty minutes or so.

It's getting dark when he notices Bradley's bike on Ice's porch.

"I'm going to call Sarah, tell her you're here already," Mav says and he dips into the kitchen.

Instantly, Ron's eyes search for Bradley and he's there, in one piece, in their living room, still getting scolded by Ice.

When he notices Ron and their eyes meet, he looks away, stepping to the side enough that he's well hidden behind Ice's legs.

Ice turns around. "Slider—"

Maybe he's too big, too old, for that, but never for Ron — he grabs Bradley under his arms and hugs him, one hand on his back, another under his thighs. It's as easy as it's always been despite what everyone says.

"Jesus Christ, kid," he blurts out. "You scared the living shit out of me."

"I’m sorry,” Bradley says and his voice is hoarse.

“No, I am sorry, kid,” he says, adjusting Bradley in his arms so he can flatten his cheek on Ron’s shoulder. “I didn’t mean it like that, I swear, you’ll never — never, all right? — bother us, I just—It was a bad joke, okay?”

“I know,” Bradley mumbles into his collarbone. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing, kid,” Ron insists.

He maneuvers him in his arms, detaches Bradley’s hands from around his shoulders so he looks at him and his eyes are shiny and red, and god, Ron just wants to take it all back, take it all away.

He doesn’t know what is going on with Bradley lately and he isn’t telling them but he wants them to have a safe place in them, he wants him to keep coming to them until he finally lets them help with whatever is happening.

“Promise me you know that, promise me you know you’ll never ever bother us, no matter what.”

Bradley doesn’t reply anything to that, instead saying, “Can you put me down? I’m not five.”

“Bradley,” Ice reprimands and Ron doesn’t care if he has a tone when he speaks to him, he just cares that—

“Promise me you know,” he repeats.

“I know, I promise,” he says.

He’s still not looking at him or at Ice, and he still seems so small, like he’s trying to take the least space he can, but he’s—he’s promising and Ron has to let go off him at some point, as heartbreaking as it feels.

He sets him back down on the carpet and Bradley curls into himself even more.

Ice opens his mouth, probably to continue the scolding and use Ron’s worry as a leverage, but Ron catches his eyes before he says anything. He shakes his head.

*

Juliette Nicole Kazansky Kerner was born on Friday, just a few minutes after three in the morning, after about twelve hours in labor and delivery.

They've decided early on that it was just going to be the three of them in the delivery suite and then for another twenty-four hours. Ron's mama was coming from Minnesota in about a week and that left just Ice and his little family.

They know the plan so they come in on Saturday, after breakfast, after Sarah slept off the exhaustion and is finally ready for visitors.

There are congratulations and hugs and then Julie crying and asking for food. There is the moment Maverick gets to hold her when she doesn't want to burp and gets her to do just so like it's the most natural thing and the moment after when Ice is looking at him with that smitten expression that Ron used to make fun of, before it became almost constant on him whenever Maverick is around.

There's a moment when finally, Bradley gets a very close look at Julie and stares at her with his mouth open and eyes wide and Sarah asks him, "Do you want to hold her?"

And then he's listening like his life depends on it when Sarah and Mav explain to him how to hold a baby and how he needs to be very careful with her head and not make too many movements not to drop her.

“She’s so tiny,” Bradley says and Ron is pretty sure he's repeated it at least three times now.

“That’s why you have to be really careful with her, buddy,” Ice says, adjusting Bradley's arm so it's holding their little Julie closer to Bradley's chest.

They're safely sitting in a big armchair with a pillow underneath just in case, but Bradley seems to have taken the cautions to heart and is holding Julie's limp head up and coconing her with his arms like it's a mission.

“She looked bigger in Aunt Sarah’s belly,” he says, still sounding awed.

Sarah laughs because truly, Bradley was the only one who could indirectly call her big and not unleash a hormonal wrath.

Maybe he said it too soon because Sarah starts crying instead, her lips are trembling when she looks at the two of them from where she's lying in bed still and next thing Ron knows, there's a waterfall.

She's smiling so he isn't too worried. He gets a whiplash because in less thirty seconds, Ice is crying to, still hovering over Bradley like the control freak he is, and if Ice is crying, that means Mav is not far behind.

Bradley lifts his head from where he was gazing at Julie and okay, Ron is a bit teary-eyed, too, by the time Bradley asks innocently, “Why is everyone crying?”

Those big doe eyes just make him weak. He's just praying he'll have more restraint with his own kids.

The nurse comes in to check on both Sarah and Julie, telling them she's probably going to be discharged tomorrow morning if their obs keep on being so good.

"We probably should grab something to eat," Ron supplies. "There's a buffet nearby."

Sarah had refused hospital food. And he's not going to be refusing her some good food when she's just popped a whole human into the world.

Bradley, realizing that standing up would mean letting go of Julie, asks, “Do I have to go with you?”

“No, but remember Mav is going to be picking your food if you stay and you know how he feels about vegetables,” Ice says.

“It’s fine,” Bradley decides and wow, the kid is really smitten, too. “Can I stay?”

They switch Bradley from the armchair to sitting next to Sarah in bed, just in case, and he's pouting the whole two minutes he doesn't have Julie in his arms.

"That was adorable," Ron says as soon as they leave the room. "I didn't think he'd take so well to her."

“I kinda wish we could have another kid just so he could be a big brother,” Mav says and he sounds like he's still melting inside.

“Yeah,” Ice agrees absently and he sounds so dreamy Ron snorts. “What?”

“Tom ‘I Don’t Like Kids’ Kazansky wanting more kids is never not going to be amusing,”

“It’s different when it’s your kids,” he protests, not ashamed at all.

And Slider supposes it is, at least for Ice because Ice is so good with Bradley, loves him so much, that he sometimes wonders if Ice's aversion to kids was just some way to protect him from heartbreak when having kids seemed impossible, given who Ice tended to love.

*

"Our three-month check up is on Friday, do you think you will be able to go with us? It's at six."

He's unpacking groceries in the kitchen, late after getting back from work, and Sarah is sitting in her rocking chair, nursing Julie for the last time before they put her to sleep for the night — she's going to wake up at least twice, but she seemed to have faded into tiredness as soon as Ron got to hold her for five minutes.

He's pretty sure he's only got paperwork to do on Friday so he should be fine, but—

“Thought it was going to be on Saturday?”

“Tom mentioned Bradley’s match is on Saturday, I thought you’d probably like to be there, too, so I made the switch,” Sarah says.

“He didn’t say anything about a match,” Ron notes. “Baby Goose, I mean.”

“We missed his last two so I thought we should probably start going to them again,” Sarah explains gently, her voice going quieter as Julie starts to fall asleep mid-feeding again. “He’s apparently banned Ice and Mav from coming because he’s embarrassed when they come, you know Tom is a bit of a soccer mom and—Ronnie?”

He—He feels it again, the feeling that something is wrong, but he can't really explain what is wrong with Bradley's behavior — kids do grow, get embarrassed by parents and uncles and want more independence. It just doesn't sit right with him.

“He didn’t tell me about his matches,” he realizes. It’s baseball season, it’s been for weeks. “He hasn’t slept over in four months, Shay.”

“He’s almost a teenager, he’s bound to start thinking you’re uncool,” Sarah says and it doesn't—

She isn't saying anything that doesn't ring true, Ron himself had those thoughts when he was much younger than Bradley. But it doesn't sit well with him. Bradley's been so off before Julie was born, for months, and now suddenly he seems to be not only fine, but fine without any of their support.

Sarah bumps Julie's nose, putting her shirt back over her arm and grabs the towel to put over her shoulder—

“At least you’ll have this one thinking you can save the world for a few more years," she says. "Can’t imagine how Mav and Ice are feeling right now.”

some people requested tagging so here you go hons: @callsign-hummingbird, @happypopcornprincess, @nearlynadin, @strangelove97, @pollyna, @heartthyshark

i know it's been a long time so let me know if you don't want me to tag you for the next part

[trigul]

/&()/$#%"#!"#$

Someone doesn't know anything about knocking on doors ☠☠.

Alguien no sabe nada de tocar puertas ☠☠

[neolynne]

I wonder if they’ll do pregnant Babe, would it be offscreen or not? Pavel said that whatever we wanted to see, we will see 👀 is Pavel ready? I think so

This man was born ready ! i mean, look at him

But it would still be a big step to make.......so do i think we will get a "nine month and ready to pop" Babe ? No

But Babe with a little 4-5 month baby bump ? Hell yes ! And the a flashforward to 5-6 month later with Babe at the hospital with a new born in his arm ? That would be the most amazing thing ever !!!

The only thing that could top that off would be a mention of Babe needing to breastfeed the pup

[thetiredmammablog]

women

[pedge-page]

#3 of Joel dealing with his Preggo reader : hungry

Warnings: oral m receiving, lactation kink, breast feeding, pregnancy, Joel fluff doing the absolute most for his wifey

18+ ONLY

- - - -

Joel is leaning back in his armchair on this lazy Thursday evening after having worked 12 hours today on a rigorous construction project. He sighs heavily, glaring down at his absolute favorite sight in the world right now: his heavily pregnant wife between his legs leisurely sucking his cock like a popsicle.

With a pillow below your knees, you looked like a dream. Your eyes closed as you gently hum around his mushroomed tip, suckling his precum. There was no rush to your movements, no desperate urge to make him cum: you were simply just enjoying the heavenly weight of your husband's blessed member sliding in and out of your waiting mouth.

He doesn't immediately register when you pull off his cock with a pop.

"I want taiyaki."

Joel shakes himself from his dazed relaxation. "Taco what?"

"My cousin who took me to the international fair 3 years ago? She got that and let me try it and it was really good. I want that." You sit back on your knees, waiting for Joel to get moving. He doesnt. "Right now," you add.

He's learned very quickly that once you have a craving for something, everything else must pause until you get it. Joel begrudgingly tucks his hard and unsatisfied cock back in his sweat pants, grabs his keys and reverses out the driveway, repeating it in his head: tai-yak-i, taiy-aki tayo aki, taco yaki, taco yucky—tacos aren't yucky they're delicious why couldnt she ask foR YUMMY TACOS I COULD HAVE MADE THAT AT HOME.

It takes him an hour of frantic searching of Japanese shops, and finally finding one, having begged the poor lady at the counter to make them—whatever they are, —hot and fresh for his pregnant wife at this late hour despite the shop closing in a few minutes. Luckily she seemed to vaguely understand his garbled mish mosh of the word and went to work.

He tips her generously and is out the door, plastic "have a nice day" bag secured in the passenger seat of the truck as he speeds home.

He triumphantly drops the bag next to your sleeping body on the couch. Your nose wrinkles, eyes shooting open at the sudden new smell. No hello, no thank you, just grubby hands diving in to the bag and opening the styrophome container.

You pause, staring at the contents. "What is this?"

"Its the thing: taco-yauki."

You look at him in incredulously, and he shoots the same look back, mixed with confusion.

"These are fried octopus balls, Joel?"

"Why the fuck would you want that?"

"I didn't! I wanted cream filled waffles! Taiyaki! Not Takoyaki!

"I DONT KNOW JAPANESE, WOMAN."

"STOP YELLING AT ME!"

"I'M NOT YE—" he inhales deeply before exhaling, letting his shoulders sag. "I'm not yelling, baby. I'm sorry. I promise I didn't know."

You shake your head, eyes swelling with tears of hangriness. "Honestly, Joel, if I knew you were going to be this useless when I married you," your voice cracks. You push the now cold balls away and cross your arms, pouting.

Joel covers his eyes with his hands. What a fucking night.

He knows that you dont mean it. That you're tired, crankly, in pain, and hungry. And that your dumbass husband was in such a rush that he didn't take a second to write it down, let alone ask you exactly what he was looking for. He remembered the fish pastry now, something he could have bought at the grocery store 10 minutes down the road. His back hurts, dick hurts, eyes hurt. He doesn't want you to be hurt too.

"Joel," you peep meakly.

"Yes baby?"

"I'm um. I'm sorry for what I said. You're not completely useless." You twist your fingers apologetically, which he finds absolutely adorable. It's impossible to even remember what he was so annoyed by. You clear your throat and speak sweetly: "I don't want taiyaki anymore. Can we have tacos instead?"

He smiles. "White-people tacos or street tacos?"

"The ones you make, please."

Joel's warm hand craddles your cheek softly. "Coming right up, angel." His hand filters down your throat before settling over your chest, fingers ever so gently tracing the lace line of your nightgown, pulling it down slightly to expose more of your supple cleavage. "But first, I get my cream filled pastry."

"Wha—?"

He gets on his knees, yanking your shirt down as your swollen tits—courtesy of your soon-to-be child— bounce out. You hiss at the sensitivity of being so heavy and full of milk.

Joel wastes no time wrapping his lips around your pebbled nipple and sucking gently, the creamy liquid so built up in your system that it just flows naturally into his eager mouth.

"You were hungry too, huh?" You teased.

He hums around your engorged breast, eyes closed in bliss. He softly kneads your unoccupied tit with one hand, the other joining your palm in passionately caressing your large tummy. You both feel your baby kicking happily now that mommy and daddy have made up.

- - - -

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@harriedandharassed

[esotericmama]

Going through the experiences of pregnancy, birth, nursing and caring for a young infant really made me realize who disconnected modern women are from how our foremothers lived. It also made me realize a lot of the ancient taboos that humans have kind of actually have a purpose.

Imagine being in the Stone Age, you're a woman, you come of age, you mate and get pregnant, then you go through the process of birth and breastfeeding. By the time your child is old enough to be independent of you you will likely be pregnant again. Women spent their entire adult lives up until menopause either pregnant or nursing a baby.

Now, people who've never been mothers really have no idea the physical toil that pregnancy, birth and even breastfeeding take on the body. But once you get into the later stages of pregnancy it seriously hinders you (not to mention extra calories needed), the birth itself takes a minimum of 6 weeks for your body to recover, then nursing will be draining you of a lot of calories. I mention calories because while it may not seem a big deal to us now, those extra calories would've been a lot for ancient people.

Anyways a lot of the taboos on women staying at home or not being in combat are just kind of common sense when you realize how stupid and not to mention cruel it would be to putting pregnant and nursing mothers into dangerous situations. It's almost like our species figured out keeping vulnerable humans like small infants, pregnant and nursing mothers safe was important to our survival.

Not to mention modern people feeling it's somehow an injustice that women have been the primary caretakers of children... it's almost as if pregnancy and breastfeeding exist and that's why. Men or patriarchy or whatever didn't create mammalian sexual dimorphism, Nature did- you're just angry at your own biology. At the end of the day we're mammals and that means the females carry the brunt of early childcare. I don't see the point in fighting against what we are.

[mychlapci]

Springer rolls but its because mommy Prowl won’t let his good boy stop breastfeeding. And to be honest Springer doesn’t fight it too hard. When he was a sparkling it made perfect sense, especially when he was delicate—there had been a time before he was able to process most modern additives. Even as a youngling it didn’t feel so odd, him curled up on Mommy’s lap nursing. Maybe the part where Prowl didn’t seem to care about privacy was a bit quirky, but not harmful. And then he’d reached the cravings for independence that came with adolescence.

At first he’d tried to refuse to nurse again entirely, but his frame was so used to the nutritious milk that Springer began to crave it. And back into Mommy’s lap he’d crawled, pawing at those swollen boobies for his milky before bed just like always. Pulling hungrily at the warm nozzles and sighing at the first, familiar taste. Prowl, satisfied with this failed rebellion, let it slide for a few days. A young Springer, of course, had felt very mature at managing to control himself until bedtime milkies. Prowl, having dealt with aching and engorged breasts most of the day, was not so impressed. Normally Springer would come to Prowl’s office to nurse a little before lunch. But since his darling boy won’t come to him, he’ll go to Springer! Because Prowl simply isn’t going to put up with these tantrums anymore. Young bots need their milky to grow up big and strong, after all. When Springer tries to tell Mommy no, he just ends up out maneuvered and nursing anyway while all his friends snicker behind their hands and Prowl chats idly while his “baby” eats his lunch. Pretending he can’t feel the embarrassed squirming.

Springer tries to get out of nursing every few months, adopting new tactics and pleas for maturity or independence or to negotiate. It’s only as an adult that Prowl offers him a compromise: Springer can have as much “big bot” energon as he likes, but he must drink his mommy milk without any more fussing. He leaps on the offer without hesitation, showing his gratitude by nursing Mommy’s boobies dry so he can be comfortable in his office all day. And then happily makes his way to the cafeteria to get a cube in celebration. Trying to ignore his panels growing warm when he *feels* his tanks sloshing as he walks. Such a big boy, drinking his milky and his cube.

By this point in his life, everyone’s completely used to seeing Prowl nursing Springer just… out in the open. Maybe new transfers will double take, but as soon as they figure out how relaxed the commander gets when Springer nurses and how bitchy he gets when his tits are swollen and overfull they stop asking questions. Whatever keeps Prowl off their backs. That doesn’t stop people from teasing and embarrassing Springer when his mommy isn’t around to hear, though. And Springer isn’t quite sure what to make of the hot, squirmy feeling in his tanks when they stare as he nurses or laugh at him.

Prowl, on the other hand, is very busy trying to help First Aid become a suitable wife for his baby boy. Of course the first this they’ll need to do is get him lactating so that Springer can still get his milky! Freak Aid is totally on board with the idea of mommy-domming his crush… and getting him nice and chubby. Springer’s tanks are awfully full after helping both Mommy and First Aid stay comfy all shift, but he’s absolutely not giving up his hard-won big bot fuel. It isn’t long before his aft starts widening and his cheeks start softening again. Prowl just coos that it’s baby fat. First Aid just gives him extra panel rubs when he’s nursing, as a thank you for so kindly drinking all of that milk for him.

yesssss we had a few similar asks a while back and I can never get this scenario out of my head. Springer being an adult breastfeedee is almost canon to me. Need him chugging on Prowl's titties through all of childhood, getting flustered and embarrassed when mommy pulls him into his lap in front of aaaaall his friends in the mess hall and makes him suckle like a sparkling. poor thing probably got bullied a lot :( No matter, because I bet you he grew up to be a big, strong bot, chubby and dense in the right places, he was made to be a big bad wrecker. No one's gonna fuck with a guy of his stature, not even when he's latched onto his mommy's nipple in public. Especially not then.

hrghh Love that Prowl and First Aid team up on him. First Aid is one of the top reasons Springer starts getting uncomfortable, inappropriate feelings during his feeding sessions, I bet....

[fertilytyisbeautiful]

That one is great. She is so fertile and she got pregnant even when breastfeeding and seems to not have much rest breasfeeding and carrying another baby that looks ready to arrive

[sweet7simple]

Breastfeeding, but make it Cybertronian

I saw a post about how there are strip clubs on Cybertron because the Beast Wars TV show said so. The link to that post is below:

What had my attention was that one of the mechs says that they walk around without their chest plates, "if you know what I mean," which implies that walking around without chest plates might make you half-nude/indecent.

So I thought, is the spark chamber for Cybertronians (the thing protected by chest plates) like breasts for humans? You can let them out in certain cultures, but that's public indecency in a lot of places?

Then I thought about a carrier/foundry trying to breastfeed in a public park, their chest plates split open and a protoform pressed against their spark chamber. But they don't have breasts and protoforms don't need milk, so what's going on?

Then I thought about the incredible source of energy a spark is and how much energy a protoform needs to accomplish their final form.

So I am thinking that protoforms spark-feed by having their whole birth metal pressed against their creator's spark chamber, slurping up that good energy the same way we charge some of our devices: Induction charging. Just by pressing our device against some sort of charging surface.

(image credit: https://www.infineon.com/cms/en/discoveries/wireless-inductive-charging/)

The idea of full-grown Cybertronians spark-feeding their egg-shaped protoforms hit me so hard in my depraved brain that I sat down and made this post at work.

(Panel from Transformers: The Holiday Special)

Specifically, this egg-shaped protoform (yes, I know it's a group of scraplets pretending to be a protoform, but it fooled Swerve, so it has to be an accurate representation - let me have this).