#heat/rut cycles

[underdark-dreams]

It's finally here, all 7k words of it 👀 Thank you for everyone who read chapter 1, and waited so patiently!

[ch1]

Birds and Bees - Ch.2

Rolan isn't usually the type to accept help. In his defense, Tav is very persuasive—and he is very, very desperate.

Tags: Tailplay, Oral Sex, Biting, NSFW | Word Count: 7.7k [Read on AO3]

Rolan didn’t appear again for the rest of the day.

After their awkward exchange this morning, Tav felt she might be somewhat to blame. She tried to recall the bits of Tiefling etiquette she’d picked up from the Elturians; perhaps touching his tail had crossed some sort of line? Either way, the gesture seemed unthinkably forward to her now. 

Then again…Rolan was the one who’d coiled his tail across her desk like that, its tip nearly brushing her hand as she wrote. She’d never seen him do anything like it before. If she didn't know him so well, she’d have found the move almost flirtatious.

At shop’s close, Cal took charge of locking up the front. Tav caught sight of the large iron keyring he carried and realized that it must be Rolan’s. So his brother had checked in on him today, at least—that gave her a modicum of relief.

Lia pitched in to help wipe down all her equipment and carefully fill the many waiting bottles with her cooled elixir. Tav held her tongue from repeating any of the worries she’d made after Rolan during the day—but it seemed her silence was just as damning.

“Stop fussing,” Lia repeated firmly. “Rolan’s just overdue for a rest. I mean, you saw his face.”

“I did.” Rolan had never been the type to slow down or show weakness easily. To Tav, the fact that he’d willingly taken himself to bed worried her more than anything. “Just promise you won't let him turn down a healer if he needs one?”

“If it comes to that, which it won't,” Lia said down to her work. “I promise we’ll find someone, okay?”

Tav kept her tone teasing as she packed away the sealed bottles in their crate. “Hmm, yes…if only you already knew someone with some knowledge of healing.”

Lia let out a bark of laughter. “Trust me, you’re the last person Rolan wants to see right now.”

The sting of those words took Tav by surprise herself. Lia caught their edge too; she pulled up with a grimace, letting a few drops of antidote dribble onto the desk. “Shit, Tav, I didn't mean it like that.”

“It’s okay,” Tav replied, making a fuss of sealing up the filled crate. The thought made her feel rather less than okay, which she didn't want Lia to see. “I think—I don’t know. I feel like I did something rude today, anyway.”

“Oh?” Lia’s tone was light, but she allowed a conspicuous pause to stretch between them. Tav pushed through a twinge of embarrassment to turn to face her.

“Lia, what would you think if I touched your tail?”

Lia glanced up with an eyebrow cocked. “What, right now?”

“No, just—say I did by accident.”

Lia straightened to take a thoughtful inhale. “I mean…it depends on the context. You and I are friends, I wouldn’t think much of it. Unless you grabbed it up by my backside or something,” she added with a laugh. “It wouldn’t be a big deal. If I’m walking somewhere crowded, lots of people might brush against it unless I’m careful.”

Tav had moved around to reset the rest of her clean glassware as she listened, feeling marginally relieved by the explanation.

Then Lia paused her work again. “Are you saying you touched Rolan’s tail?

“You what now?”

With impeccable timing, Cal skidded to a stop at the edge of the conversation, a heavy lockbox under one arm.

Tav glanced between the two of them. “Yes?” The word came out as a question somehow; her mouth went dry as they stared at her. “Like you said, I didn't think it was a big deal. He laid it on my desk while I was working, so I just kind of—” She mimed a little picking-up motion with her hand.

The siblings exchanged a significant look with each other. 

“What?” Tav felt her face burning and knew the color must be noticeable to either of them. “How does it being Rolan’s tail make it different?”

Cal turned back to her with a frown. “What do you mean he laid it on your desk?”

“I don't know, damn—clearly I’m no expert!” She flailed her arms out a bit. “I just turned around and it was sitting there by my hand, all right?”

Another shared glance.

“That explains it,” Cal decided. It earned him a swift pinch on the arm from his sister. “Ow, hey—”

Tav looked between them again, trying to translate. “Explains what? Seriously, if I offended Rolan somehow, I want to kn—”

“You didn’t,” Lia cut in firmly. “This one here's just an idiot. It’s harder to control your tail when you're sick or tired, and Rolan’s been both, that’s all. I'm sure it was a mistake. And he shouldn't have minded you moving it,” she finished with a decisive nod.

With that, Lia snatched up the filled crate from her with one arm and grabbed her brother’s sleeve with the other. Cal stumbled slightly as she pulled him along, but he wisely held his tongue as they headed for the back stockroom. The hinges creaked shut behind them both.

Tav was left standing alone in the cavernous interior of Sorcerous Sundries, beside the desks that she and Rolan used to comfortably share—not sure if she should feel better or worse.

—

The next morning, Rolan was once again nowhere to be found.

He hadn’t even conjured his projection the way he usually did when occupied with research in the Tower. It was a shame; the shop was unusually busy by midday, and Cal and Lia worked without pause. When she could, Tav left her alchemy just to lend a hand with customers or make runs to the supply room.

She found herself worried to the point of irritation. Was Rolan really so stubborn that he wouldn’t take a potion? Or accept healing from someone he’d claimed was a trusted friend and colleague? She tried and failed not to be hurt by it.

Then again, Rolan had always been the type to shoulder his way through awful things alone while firmly turning down help—particularly from her. His apprenticeship, most recently. The memory made her radiantly angry on his behalf even now.

“Shit—” 

Tav jerked away from the flask and sucked on her freshly scalded thumb. She must have the ratios off again; this recipe wasn’t new to her, but the nuances had escaped her all morning. These sublimates shouldn’t get nearly so hot when mixed.

Might as well admit defeat and review the recipe before she wasted yet another bunch of black oleander. Surely there was a reference text somewhere in Rolan’s library?

Tav glanced around to the front of the shop. Cal was recording a sale at the front desk; Lia was chatting with a very large half-orc over near the conjurement runes. Things seemed well enough in hand. Tav damped the flame at her station and quietly took the stairs for the portal.

For lack of a better word: the library of Ramazith’s Tower was absolutely magical. 

Tav stood breathing in the quiet afternoon sunlight, taking an appreciative look up around her. The collection must be the best one this side of Candlekeep, with all sorts of books on spellcraft, Weave theory, alchemy, religion, the history of Toril—just to scratch the surface. She could think of no hands more deserving than the ones its ownership had fallen into.

Just as Lia mentioned the other day, Rolan had clearly been hard at work reorganizing the place. She ran her fingertips over the books’ spines as she walked around the perimeter of the main floor.

She imagined Rolan with his robe sleeves pushed to his elbows, enthusiastically at work in his book stacks, and bit back a grin. There was something so endearing about his passion for taming disorder. As she walked, she found her gaze drifting to the delicate staircase at the far end of the main floor. It spiraled upward invitingly. 

She’d never been to the upper floors of Ramazith’s Tower—nothing past the library. Certainly she hadn’t stepped foot in any of the private quarters of Rolan or his siblings. She wouldn’t even know which door led to whose.

But her mind wandered readily at the thought of Rolan’s bedroom. What it might look like…smell like. 

No doubt it was packed with shelves of books and scrolls, filled with the scent of fresh parchment and leather-bound volumes. That warm, bookish smell that seemed to be woven into his robes. The fresh hint of cedar from the way he kept his clothes meticulously cleaned and stored. And that other faint spice that she could never identify, but always picked up when he stood close to her.

The same scent that had filled her lungs with dizzy pleasure when he’d hovered close to her yesterday, chin brushing her shoulder and arm circled possessively around her waist— 

She bit her lip as heat pooled between her legs at the memory. She couldn't help it—how very fucking nice it had been to feel Rolan’s elegant hands on her, casually and effortlessly touching, as if he was accustomed to touching her much more often and much more intimately.

It would do no good to dwell on that moment. If anything, the uncharacteristic gesture was just proof of how out-of-sorts Rolan must be feeling. He was her friend, and by all accounts, he’d been too sick to leave his room for days. 

With a sudden burst of determination and a disregard for the consequences, she strode for the stairs.

Taking the curving ascent so rapidly left her dizzy. Tav planted her boots on the landing for a moment, holding onto the railing while she took in her surroundings.

This upper hall was also quietly sunlit, filled with fine carpeting and oak paneled walls; but the atmosphere was somehow less grand than the cavernous library below. More intimate. 

Two doors stood on both ends of the hall. Hazarding a guess, she stepped to the closest one on her left. Its heavy oak panels swung forward with the slightest touch.

Not a bedroom at all, but a bath—and a tremendously fine one at that. All the fixtures seemed to be wrought from polished gold. Underneath a towering stained glass window stood the deepest, widest clawfoot tub she’d ever seen.

As she gazed around, Tav caught sight of her reflection in a large glass above the sinks. Her hair was all frizzy flyaways from a day over her potion work. Indulging a bit of vanity, she paused to tame it with her fingers.

One of Rolan’s many endearing habits was his dedication to fastidiousness. Never a hair out of place, horns polished and shining, robes immaculately pressed—knowing him, with a bit of the Weave.

She must look like some sort of wild hedge witch by comparison. Tav had never minded life in the wilds as a wayward adventurer, even after the Elder Brain was felled to the Chionthar. It was part of what drew her to the career of a traveling alchemist. 

But there were moments…most of them in this Tower, with Rolan and his siblings. Sharing a meandering dinner at a real table with actual chairs. Sitting with Rolan out on the starlit balcony, discussing blood alchemy over a glass of wine as they watched the harbor.  

Tav forced her hands still and stared back at her reflection. 

“What do you want?” She muttered to herself. The Tav in the mirror had no answer. But in her mind, one softly bloomed.

Over the past months, her feelings had tumbled forward faster than she could keep up with them. Seeing Rolan, talking with him about anything and everything, working beside him in quiet moments—she found those were the moments she looked forward to most.

His offer to turn one of the Tower’s empty vaults into a greenhouse for her. Essentially giving her a permanent place in his home, if she wanted it. Was it stupid to hope that he wanted more, too?

As she stood frozen silent in the confines of her lavish surroundings, a muffled sound came from her right.

She hadn't noticed the second door past the bathtub; presumably connecting to one of the bedrooms. She realized it most likely led to Rolan’s.

She stepped toward the heavy oak paneling and raised a hand to knock. As she did, more muffled noises came from within. Tav hesitated, questioning whether she should—then leaned in to press one ear to the wood.

There were the sounds of labored breathing, as if from pain or exertion. She strained her ear harder. There was something almost…rhythmic in it.

And then—she could swear—she heard Rolan's voice groan her name aloud.

A shock of heat ran through her chest, prickling up her neck and diving between the cleft of her legs. The rapid, hot ache at her core made her gasp out in surprise, then clap a hand to her mouth lest he heard. She felt her cheeks burning with realization.

Whatever she had expected to find by wandering up here…this had never been on the list. All she saw in her mind’s eye was Rolan, sweating and panting and desperate. And that thought filled her with overwhelming want in response.

Tav pushed herself back from the door with a jolt. She turned and ran, not knowing or caring whether the ring of her footsteps on tile carried past the door. Her pulse pounded against her ears as she rushed out of the room and back for the staircase. 

Even before Tav’s foot hit the third stair, she knew she was headed for the Elfsong. And a very stiff fucking drink.

—

Day passed to night and back to day again in a feverish jumble. Like a vessel adrift in a vast ocean, Rolan was passed along wave after wave of searing impulse.

Had his ruts always been this overwhelming, and he’d just forgotten? Or was there something different about the drives this time around? 

Even the little dignities were stripped away, one by one. He began by conjuring mage hands at first, but his concentration faltered too many times at the cusp. He finally just settled for his own grip. Desperate sounds rose in his chest each time he neared his next finish, the likes of which he’d never utter voluntarily.

And he quickly gave up on clothes altogether. He lay naked and spread-eagle on his sheets and tried to sleep when he could, before his demanding cock inevitably twitched back to life again. The fever turned his dreams shockingly lewd whenever he did manage to drift off.

By sunset, another strong wave of need was pulsing through his core, demanding his attention. Rolan lay back against his pillows and groaned open-mouthed as he stroked himself.

Even slick with oil, the friction between his hand and the raw, overstimulated ridges of his cock bordered on painful. His finish danced out of reach to the back of his mind.

With an impatient growl, he flipped over to his knees and snatched up a feather pillow, folding it into a sleeve for his cock. A crude solution—but with his first few thrusts, the cool softness of the silk caused a moan of relief to rise in his throat. He squeezed his eyes shut as he fucked his own pillow in a desperate chase for relief.

And behind his eyelids, there she was again.

Tav appeared there so easily now. He’d tried to fight it at first—ashamed to be using her like this, without her knowledge or consent—but he found that nothing satisfied his urges so well as when he pictured her on his cock.

So he closed his eyes and imagined Tav…pliant, eager, hungry. Legs spread and center dripping with desire for him. The shameful depth of his need faded away as he fantasized her own. How her eyes might shine as she panted and gasped under him, calling him by name and begging him to fuck her and fill her and mark her as his—

What would she sound like as he took her? He conjured the timbre of her voice, always warm and musical, now canting to a whine as the ridges at his base slammed against her with each thrust.

Pressure coiled rapid and hot at his loins. Rolan slid off the mattress with legs braced, the pillow cast aside, and tugged frantically at his stiff length again. His tail arched and flicked behind him.

Through clenched eyelids he saw Tav laid at the foot of his bed, hair splayed in a messy crown against his sheets as she cried out his name. Her legs crossed behind his flanks to hold him deep inside her tight wet heat—

‘Rolan—’ She moaned louder, her heels digging into his lower back as he took her. Tav gripped two handfuls of the bedding underneath as he thrust relentlessly, chasing more of her heat around his cock, more of the delicious scent at her throat and between her legs—

“Rolan!”

“Fuck—” With a strangled gasp, Rolan’s hips stuttered one last time as his come spilled in ropes to the floor. Panting and shaking, he caught hold of the bed post with one hand as he frantically worked out the rest of his finish with the other. His head spun with the force of it.

But as he opened his eyes and his vision cleared, so did that cottony feeling in his ears. Someone was rapping insistently on the door to his room.

“Rolan, we need to talk—” Even muffled by the heavy wood, Tav’s voice was unmistakable.

“Fuck,” Rolan hissed again, this time with enough wits about him to panic. How much of that last performance could she hear through the door? He snatched up the nearest towel to wipe himself, then tripped away toward the pile of clothes on the floor that had lain untouched since yesterday.

“Go away,” he called tersely, nevertheless yanking the trousers up over his hips. Thank hells that last round had left him soft enough he could do up the laces for now.

On the other side of the door, she was undeterred. “I’m not leaving till I’ve seen you.”

Rolan cursed as one of his horns snagged the ties at the neck of his shirt. Once the fabric dropped over his torso, he whirled around to take in the state of his room. 

Bedsheets pulled sideways from the mattress; pillows strewn across the floorboards; air thick with the smell of him. Absolute filthy shambles.

Using a rush of energy he couldn't afford, he cast a mass prestidigitation spell on the space. The improvement in the air was immediate. But the resulting light-headedness caused him to stumble forward; he caught himself with a hand braced on the door frame.

“I'm not joking,” Tav called loudly, unaware he was now much closer.

He could have yelled at her to wait outside for another week, then, if he wasn't so sure she was stubborn enough to actually do so. After all, this was the person who’d defeated an Elder Brain and taken on several gods in the process.

That…and he found he badly wanted to see Tav in the flesh. Hearing her voice from just beyond his bedroom door only increased that desire. Rolan’s tail lashed behind him in helpless frustration.

“What do you want?” He asked instead, lowering his voice. No use broadcasting any more of this conversation to the whole Tower.

There was a pause on the other side of the oak paneling. “I’ve barely seen you since I got here,” Tav’s voice replied, matching his volume.

“And?” 

“And I'm worried about you…obviously,” she added. “Cal and Lia said you’re sick. But I’d feel better if we could talk face to face.” Even through the barrier between them, he could hear a strain in her voice. She wasn't lying. 

Rolan rested his horns against his braced forearm with a sigh. “Tav, I swear I'm perfectly fine.”

“Then just open the door a moment. Please, Rolan?”

It was far too pleasant to hear her say his name outside of his own imaginings. Rolan glanced down at himself. Barefoot, shirt untucked, but technically presentable. And not pitching a tent for once in the past twenty-four hours. 

“If I do, will you leave?” 

There was another pause. “If you want me to,” came the reply. He unbolted the latch and drew it open to shoulder width.

The wave of Tav’s scent hit him almost before he registered her face in front of him. The sweetness of it overwhelmed his other senses for a moment. It tested all Rolan’s limited reserves of sanity not to grab her by the waist and pull her body against him.

Unaware of the silent struggle raging in his chest, Tav stood with face tilted up toward his. Her eyes had traveled over his figure immediately, checking him over with a worried little crease between her brows. Something at the side of his head caught her eye; Rolan realized his hair hung loose and rather sweaty, exposing the slender tips of his ears.

Her demeanor changed at the sight. Tav sighed, leaning her head against the flat of the door.

“You’re even handsome with a fever,” she told him softly.

Rolan blinked at her. Perhaps exhaustion and hormones were driving him to hallucinations. “What are you—”

Faster than he could react, her palms landed on either side of his face, and Tav pulled his mouth down to hers.

A burst of colors exploded behind his eyes; the sensation of her lips moving on his kindled the dormant heat in his body to wild blaze. She notched her hands upward as she kissed him, and her fingers slid up along the sensitive tapers of both his ears.

Rolan let out a hungry, animal sound against her mouth. Both hands landed on her back and crushed the line of her body forward into his, leaving no space between them. He could feel the soft hills of her breasts pressing against his chest through clothing. The warm scent rolling off her skin and hair surrounded him with dizzying force.

The higher part of his mind was screaming at him. Rolan desperately tried to focus on what it was saying; as he did, he caught the tang of wine on her lips. The discovery gave him just enough will to pull back from her.

And he did, with one jerking step back into his chambers. “You can’t be here.”

Tav stood panting through parted lips, eyes half-lidded as they traveled over him. Rolan felt flames lick his skin everywhere they moved.

“Why not?” She breathed. “I wanted to see you.”

“You’re drunk,” he told her. He rather felt that way himself, still reeling from the electricity of kissing her.

Tav pouted at that, and Rolan wished to bite that lower lip firmly between his teeth. “I’m not drunk,” she corrected. “I’ve had a drink. There’s a difference.”

“You wouldn’t be here if—”

“If what?” Tav watched him as she took a step closer. Rolan stepped back in tandem, reflexive. She was well over the threshold now. “If I knew what was really happening to you?”

Those words sounded much more knowing than he liked. Rolan stared at her, trying to read into her face. He swallowed against the dry lump of his tongue and went out on a limb. “Which one of them told you?”

Tav shook her head. “Cal and Lia have been nothing but discreet.” 

“Then how could you possibly understand?” He demanded. The very recent discovery of how soft Tav’s lips were was making it very difficult to maintain this conversation. He could still feel the way her body had pressed into him.

One corner of her mouth twitched. “Rolan, I’d like to think I’m not completely oblivious. There have been…signs. And I’ve had a lot of time to think about them. I’ve been at the Elfsong all afternoon, just—thinking.”

At that, Rolan felt his tail twitching nervously behind him. “I see,” he replied. Pivoting, like an idiot, trying to pretend this was a perfectly acceptable conversation to have with the woman who occupied most of his thoughts when he was pleasuring himself. “And you think that I—that my—”

Tav made a quick twisting motion to get around the door. She latched it and drew the bolt closed behind them, then turned back to him.

“A lot of humans have heard rumors about Tieflings,” she confessed. “Some stupid, but some credible. I’m saying this is maybe not the secret that you think it is.” As he watched, a much deeper blush spread over Tav’s cheeks. She glanced away to the side. 

“Rolan…I grew up in the Dales, remember? Around rabbits, and cattle, and oxen. Half my friends lived on farms.”

Her analogy couldn’t be clearer. To hear her lay it out so plainly—Rolan felt the last dregs of his pride shrivel up and die. He gripped two palms over his eyes and let out a groan of abject humiliation, turning away to the middle of the room. 

How early had she connected the dots? The moment she felt him brazenly place a hand around her? Had she known all along that he was locked up here, rutting into every one of his pillows?

“Look, Rolan, I’m sorry—I didn’t know how else to say it—” 

Completely overwhelmed by his embarrassment, he hadn’t heard her follow. When Rolan finally dropped his hands from his face, he turned to find Tav standing very close to his chest.

“And I’m sorry for kissing you before,” she blurted out. “I mean, I’m not sorry for it…I’ve wanted to do that for a long time, to be honest. But it wasn’t fair. I just…wanted to know how you’d react.”

Rolan watched as her chest rose and fell heavily where she stood. The look in her eyes made his blood pound through his veins. He felt an urge to reach out and smooth back her hair to bring her in for another kiss, one he resisted.

“I care about you,” Rolan told her, before he could lose his nerve. “Our friendship. I respect you, Tav, it’s not worth—muddying things with this.” 

He felt fingers lacing through the ones that hung at his side, and despite his words Rolan tightened his grip automatically. Her hand was so pleasantly cool against the heat of his skin.

“Why do you think I’m here?” Tav answered earnestly. “I care about you, too. If I can help, I want to. Please—”

She was so close to him; Rolan breathed shallowly, but the warm scent rolling off her skin and hair nevertheless swept past him with dizzying force.

“You don’t know what you’re offering,” he managed hoarsely.

She didn’t falter. “Then tell me what else you think I should know.”

His senses were growing clouded with her; the offer that had tumbled so easily from her rang in his ears. It made the thread of Rolan’s control stretch dangerously taut.

“I won’t be gentle,” he warned. 

His inadvertent shift in tone changed something in the air between them. There was a crackling energy that hadn't been there a second before.

Tav licked her lips as she watched him. “Good.”

Rolan thought he might melt from the heat that spread across his skin. His tail snapped against the mattress behind him. If she moved a step closer, she’d feel how hard he was in his pants.

“Mating bites,” he went on hoarsely. “I’ll mark you. Quite a lot. I’ll try not to draw blood, but…I can’t promise it.”

Tav nodded. “What else?” She asked, encouraging him to go on. 

Rolan swallowed against the embarrassment. But this was important for her to know. “This time for us, it’s all about…reproduction. We become quite virile.” He nearly choked, but there was simply no other way to put it. “For the urges to pass quicker, I need to come in you.”

Tav let out a throaty hum of approval. His cock twitched in his pants at the sound. “That’s fine, I take preventatives—it’s safe.”

They stood looking at each other for another moment. That shivery, electric feeling buzzed in the air around them. Rolan wondered if she could hear the way his heart drummed against his ribs.

Tav leaned in slightly. “Well…” She said, and her wet tongue passed nervously between her lips again.

That taut thread in his chest snapped in two. Rolan crushed her up against him with a whimper. Arms circling around her waist, he nudged a thigh between her legs and firmly ground their hips together.

Tav matched his eagerness. Their lips crashed together; at the back of his mind, he felt her grip cradling under each of his ears. Her fingertips licked like flame against his scalp.

Even through layers of clothing, he could feel the heat of her. Rolan jerked her hips forward harder against his thigh; the swelling length of his cock pressed against her soft, yielding center. Tav dipped her head back from the kiss, arching into him with a moan, and her fingertips laced at the nape of his neck. 

It offered an irresistible angle at the column of her throat. Rolan’s claws raked back in her hair, pulling it to a tight ponytail. Then he tugged firmly, holding her open as his mouth descended on her neck.

He kissed and sucked along the band of muscle from her ear to the curve of her shoulder, then parted his lips to bite down firmly on her soft flesh. 

“Yes,” Tav moaned in approval above him. Her hips rolled into his, grinding herself against the hard cock straining in his pants. Rolan felt her pulse skip against his mouth. Only when he tasted sweet copper did he pull away, laving his tongue over the crimson pin-pricks of his teeth into her skin.

He took only a moment to admire the trail of marks blooming along her neck. Tav was already pulling him in for another kiss. Their lips crashed together with bruising force; her tongue explored, tasting, searching for proof of her blood against his tongue and moaning against him when she found it.

Her scent filled his mind. Without breaking from her mouth, he plucked open the laces of her pants. Rolan slipped his hand under the waistband, beneath her smalls, and slid two fingers to dip down between her legs. Her folds were shining-slick; as he nudged her in circles, a trickle of her arousal rolled down his fingers. She shivered prettily under his touch.

“You’re soaked,” Rolan groaned against her neck. 

“All because of you,” she breathed without hesitation. “Been wanting this, gods, wanting you for months. Your hands on me—cock in me—”

At the words he withdrew his fingers from her impatiently, then sucked them clean. Her sweet taste on his tongue made his cock ache. She scarcely had time to curse at the sight before Rolan gripped both arms around her waist to lift her into him.

With one quick pivot, he landed her down on the bed with his frame pressed into her. Her legs hung off the edge from the hip down, and he used the position to grind the stiff length in his pants against her cleft.

Even fully clothed, it was maddening. He could feel the wet patch between her legs, and when she arched further into him, a primal growl rumbled in his chest. 

Tav’s fingers were brushing at his sides, tugging at the hem of his shirt. “Off,” she panted impatiently.

Rolan tilted back to rip the garment up over his horns, immediately reaching for her own once his was free. He stripped her frantically, ripping her smallclothes in two before he could work them down her thighs.

When she lay bare beneath him, moaning and arching into everywhere he touched, he was overcome with hunger for more of her taste. 

Rolan gripped her hips, dragging her with a jerk to the edge of the bed. With her glistening folds displayed before him, all he could do was drop to his knees and bury his tongue between them.

The sounds she made were like sweet music as he explored her. He sucked and massaged her slit with his tongue, then plunged it as deep within her walls as he could. His eyes rolled back in his head. Her taste surrounded him; his nose brushed her clit as he ate her, further overwhelming his senses with the scent of her arousal.

“Gods, yes, Rolan—” Tav moaned above him as her hands flew to grip each of his horns. She alternately tugged them and arched into his mouth, grinding her clit against his face.

He wanted to hear her say his name like that another thousand times. Rolan curled his tongue against her walls, determined to taste her even deeper, but to no avail. Without his sharp nails, he would have sunk two fingers into her.

Instead, as his mouth left her, the ridged end of his tail looped around to brush over her slit.

“Ah—” Tav gasped from the bed. One of her hands left him to prop up on an elbow to look. 

He watched her face in adoration as his tail slid between her soaked lips, coating itself in a mixture of her arousal and his saliva. Once it was thoroughly wet, he let the heart-shaped tip push experimentally into her.

Whatever hesitation he had evaporated at the way she arched and keened. He pushed in further, inch by inch, hissing in breath at how tight and wet her walls squeezed around him. Rolan felt his cock leaking between his legs at the sight of his tail disappearing into her plush cunt.

“Taking my tail so well,” Rolan praised without thinking, then groaned. “Fuck, Tav, you’re so tight—”

“Don’t stop,” she demanded, breathless.

When he felt the tip brush the limits of her insides, he held it steady as she panted down at him. Her mouth hung open in anticipation as she watched him lean in again for her center.

But instead of landing on her clit, his mouth met with the soft skin of her inner thigh and sucked it firmly between his teeth.

Tav gave a little yelp of pain, but her walls constricted around his tail so hard he moaned against her flesh. He left two more lovely red marks against her thigh before withdrawing his tail from her, leaving only the tip inside her silk.

Then he thrust back into her and took up a forceful rhythm of stretching her open on his tail.

“Fucking gods,” she gasped, gripping both his horns again. He felt her use them as leverage as she bounced her hips down to meet him. 

“Like this, don’t you?” Rolan urged her on, drunk off her desire. “Fucking yourself on my tail—” He leaned down to take another taste of her clit, swirling and sucking as the ridges on his tail dragged more wetness out of her with each thrust.

“Yes,” Tav moaned, shaking under him as his tongue worked over her clit. “Feels so perfect in me, so—ngh—!”

When he flicked the tip of it up inside her, Tav’s words stuttered to incoherence. He felt her inner walls clench and flutter, and repeated the motion over and over with each thrust.

“I’m—oh, oh ohohoh—”

She dissolved into soft cries. The muscles at her core tensed and shuddered as she climaxed against his tongue. Rolan withdrew his tail from her with a slick release, instead clasping his mouth over her to lap down the sweet taste that poured from her. His pants were so wet he was nearly convinced he’d already come, but he felt his cock straining against the fabric just as firmly.

When her thighs collapsed limp to either side, Rolan pushed himself to his feet for a look at her. Tav’s eyes were bright, cheeks flushed with arousal, her hair coiled out in wild tendrils that framed her like a crown. Their eyes met; with both hands on his arms, she pulled him down for a kiss.

Rolan landed braced on his forearms. Their tongues slid and pushed together, trading the taste of her release. When he felt her reaching between them to undo his laces, he pulled away to loose them and strip off the rest of his clothes. 

Tav reached for his erection, and before he’d steadied himself, she gripped his length to drag the generous droplets of precum around his tip with her thumb. His hips bucked into her.

“Eager, aren’t you?” She teased softly.

“Yes,” Rolan groaned. Tav’s soft hand was around his cock for the first time; it was all he could do to locate words. He knew his face was flushed and tense with arousal, but Tav only looked up at him with appreciation from where she lay back on his bed. 

When she guided his length across the wet of her core, he rocked his hips to drag his ridges across her. She shivered slightly, still sensitive, but rolled into him.

“Need you,” Rolan panted, not sure whether he was asking her or begging. “Tav—please—”

Tav’s hand lined him up with her entrance. When his leaking tip nudged inside her, Rolan pushed forward with one slow, determined cant of his hips.

The cool slick of her walls clutched each inch of him so perfectly. A low groan rose in Rolan’s throat—this was the closest thing to real satisfaction that he’d gotten in days, and he hadn't even started moving yet.

“So good,” Tav said under him, voice sweet and husky. “Keep going—”

Rolan braced his hands against her hips. He pulled out slowly, legs shaking beneath him, then pushed back into the tight plush of her. 

His hips took up a firm pace, and Rolan couldn't bite back his whines as he plunged his cock inside her. Whatever his fevered imagination had conjured, it was nothing compared to this—he fell over her again, fangs skating against her breast as her body rocked under him with each thrust.

“Yes, yes, fuck—” Tav was just as breathless as her fingers gripped the infernal ridges on his shoulder blades. She tugged, egging him on.

Rolan took the invitation with enthusiasm. He nipped and sucked around the swell of her breast, breathing in lungfuls of the sweetness rolling off her skin.

“Harder,” Tav begged, the words vibrating against his lips. The hunger inside him surged in agreement.

Rolan’s lips fastened over one nipple. He sucked, hard, letting his tongue roll her against his teeth. Tav let out a whimper, but he felt her legs crossing around his hips as he continued to bury himself in her.

Rolan pulled away to look at her face. A mist of sweat dusted her brow; Tav’s lips were parted and twitching with silent words. 

“Look at me,” Rolan ordered, still filling her with his cock in a steady rhythm.

Tav obeyed, her eyes shining and pupils blown wide. He straightened away from her, never breaking, and laid a hand each on her calves. Then he pushed up, folding her legs to her chest and opening up her cunt even deeper for him.

“You look so beautiful like this, Tav,” he told her, thighs trembling with the effort of keeping his pace slow and steady. “Folded in half in my bed. Stretched around my cock so perfectly.”

In response, Tav’s hands grabbed her knees, pulling herself open even further to each side. “Is this how you imagined it?” She asked wickedly. “All alone—wishing it was me and not your own hand—”

Heat prickled across his neck and shoulders, but Rolan was too far gone to feel shame. He couldn't resist breaking eye contact, however, watching the way his cock stretched open her dripping cunt.

“Just like this,” he panted in answer. She took in breath to respond, but he was already slamming back into her at a reckless pace.

The lewd, wet sounds of his thrusts filled the room, layered with their chorus of whines and moans. Rolan shuddered at how slick and tight she was around him, perfectly gripping each inch of his needy length. His cock throbbed in anticipation of a satisfying release, finally, after all these times of not quite enough—

“I’m close,” he panted, gripping her hips to pull her down deeper onto his cock. The tip of him nudged against the limits of her walls. “Where should—”

“Inside,” Tav insisted, still holding herself wide for him. “Only inside, Rolan, want you to fill me up—fuck—”

The imagery pushed him over the edge, and he did just that. With a throb of release, he felt his cock pulsing and filling her deepest walls with his seed. His hips stuttered into her as he pushed his spend as far into her as he could reach.

Tav clutched his shoulders as he came, humming and moaning out praises for him. Their hips rocked together, nudging his coated length back against her deep center. 

Tav went tense under him. He forced his eyes open and saw her lips parted in surprise.

“I’m—oh—!” 

She gasped in shock as her own climax gripped her. Rolan hissed in breath at the way she clenched and fluttered so suddenly around him. His length was still hard, and his ridges pulsed against her.

As she drifted back down, Tav’s eyes finally lit on him in a daze. “What…what was that?”

Rolan was abruptly reminded of how many ruts he’d spent without a partner. “I'm sorry, I should've warned you,” he confessed. It was hard to form his thoughts while still inside her. “During the cycle…infernal traits get stronger. Like incubi. Helps attract a partner.” Somehow this explanation was more embarrassing than any of the other filth he’d just spoken to her.

Tav stared up at him. “You're saying your come is going to make me come?”

“Essentially.” Rolan shifted inside her slightly, still not confident he was done. “I apologize—I didn't think to tell you. Is that a problem?”

“Rolan—” Tav let out a breathless laugh, and the sound went straight to his chest. “This is the exact opposite of a problem. Just a bit of a shock, that's all.”

The lovely sight of her happy and satisfied under him was too much to resist. Rolan leaned forward on his arms to kiss her, trapping her legs between their chests.

As her hand stroked softly under his jaw, Rolan felt a second ache settling in his loins. He released her lips for just long enough to push her legs out over his hips, then ducked back down for her mouth.

He rolled his hips into her slower this time, but it was somehow more intense. Their lips stayed connected as he drove into her deep. Her walls were slippery with arousal and his own seed, and they gripped like pure silk around his cock. Her opening slid over the sensitive ridges at his base with each thrust.

When he dipped a thumb between their bodies to rub circles over her clit, Tav broke away with a little gasp.

“I can’t again,” she said, panting.

“You can,” he told her simply. “Hold on to me—” 

She did, wrapping both arms and legs firmly around him as if he was her anchor. Rolan dipped his head to her neck as he doubled his pace, their hips slotting together with each brisk slide into her. He breathed deep against the curve of her shoulder.

Still so hungry for release, it wasn't long before he came again hard. This time he just barely pumped his spend into her before he pulled out to look down.

Sticky white seed dribbled out of her slit, running down toward her hole. He dipped the thumb circling her clit down to swipe it back up across her cunt, painting his come across the bundle of nerves at her peak.

Tav’s thighs twitched under him, and she gripped his arm tight with one hand. She swore as he continued flicking across her clit with the wet pad of his thumb, then whined out his name.

While her next orgasm nearly doubled her in half, Rolan tilted his head to watch the sight between her legs. She was soaked, twitching, utterly intoxicating. Her contracting walls pushed more of his spend out of her; it flowed generously from her slit and soaked down into the bedding below.

Finding himself now utterly spent, Rolan collapsed on his back next to her. As he did, he realized his legs had grown fatigued to the point of buckling from the exertions. He let his body sink heavy into the mattress. 

“I made a mess on your sheets,” Tav panted from beside him. 

Rolan groaned at her descriptive language. The fact that his length continued softening was a sign his urges were finally giving him a reprieve, however. “It was mostly my fault.”

She only let out a weak breath of laughter.

Too tired to trust his shaking legs, he reached an arm blind over the side of the bed and snatched up the first fabric it touched. His discarded shirt.

Pushing himself seated, he gently reached to dry between Tav’s legs. One of her hands traced the ridges on his back as he quietly tended to her.

“How long before the next?” She asked him.

“An hour or two.” Rolan didn't look at her. “Tav, you've done more than enough for m—”

The mattress shifted as she sat up and turned his face into a waiting kiss. It was soft, just a chorus of little presses across his lips.

When Tav pulled away, she tucked the damp curtain of his hair behind one ear. “Rolan, unless you want me to go, I'm staying until it’s over.”

Rolan cast a glance over her. Despite the fact that she was naked in his bed and covered in blooming bruises from his mouth, she was very much the same Tav as ever. “Thank you,” he told her quietly.

She pushed him onto his back with a sudden laugh, landing with her chest pressed to his. “What an utterly Rolan thing to say,” she mused. “Need I remind you I just came three times?”

Tav was teasing him, and was of a mind to put her in her place—only he found that none of his limbs wanted to move at the moment. Instead, his only response was a deep hum as his eyelids drooped shut.

He felt the mattress shift as she rose and wished he could reach out to stop her. But a moment later she curled up next to him again, dragging a soft quilt over their bodies. 

Rolan turned inward to rest his head on Tav’s chest—and fell into his first real slumber in days.

[shamrockqueen]

Omega retreat chapter 11

Pairing : Alpha Bucky x Omega reader

Warnings : R18, breaking boundaries, references to sex, Bucky being bad, breaking Bucky

Word count : 1716

First chapter : Previous chapter

Bucky masterlist

Summary: As an unmarked and lonely omega you find a flyer for a service called The Omega Retreat.

You are paired with a compatible alpha to spend your heat or just a week at a luxurious cabin at a forest resort. Amenities and Utilities included. Enjoy the beautiful scenery, fresh air, as well as the company of an alpha of your choosing. What could possibly go wrong?

This pairing felt so right. It was a gut feeling that Bucky had, taking root, growing quickly, and overtaking any of the few doubts that had buzzed around like annoying little gnats. Now his certainty was thick and lush, like intruding ivy, digging into grout to burrow its little rootlets further into his frontal lobe, and throwing him further and further in love with you.

He waited, watching you nearly drift to sleep and happily disrupting your onset of slumber with a small tug of his hard knot until it began to go down and he could reluctantly pull free.

A small caress to your cheek, the brush of his dry knuckle along your damp skin as he trailed it down your neck. For now he’d won, successfully wracking your body through a joint-bending orgasm and staving off a whirlwind of heat.

His fingers trailed down the warm plains of your bare body, reaching for your shaking hands before locking them in his grasp to pull you from your perch on the small dining table.

You cling to his chest, grappling at the loose buttons of his flannel from where you tried to claw it from his body. You nearly missed a soft purr that rumbled from his hard chest as you cuddled against his neck as he two-stepped you towards the soft bed in the adjoining room. There wasn’t any other place more comfortable for you to crawl onto except to be blanketed by him.

It’s another pang against his weakened defenses, but even as his arms tightened around your smaller body and he groaned against your hair, he fought again to remain in control. You feel his shoulders stiffen but remain oblivious to the way his face seemed to darken. That edging of his body lingered, leaving his back tense as he pulled you from the table. You brush it off as his muscles flex as he lifts you up and carries you away to the bed to curl you into the blankets.

You reach out to grab at him and pull him to the bed with you, but he needs to attend to something first. He smiled down at your deepening pout, pulling at your wet lips, humming back dirty sentiment.

“Not afraid of fucking raw then? I wouldn’t have expected something like that from such a shy omega.”

He pinched at your reddened cheek, only to be met with a missed bite towards his retreating digits. It was a hungry fire he hadn’t expected to see but was very excited to find.

When your flames seemed to dim to a soft glow, you smiled up at him and spoke sweetly.

“We don’t need to worry about that, Alpha.”

Things can be said in the heat of the moment, something rumbling from a baser instinct. You’d spoken of protection over the phone, but you had a feeling it would fall by the wasteside. The chalky little contraceptive in your belly would serve to suit that purpose instead.

Bucky’s eyebrows were quirked before he asked, “Oh, why’s that?”

“I made sure to take the pill.” You said, lazily lowering your head to his shoulder as you began to drift.

Like a star, you burned furious and bright, only to fizzle and cool against your new lover’s body. Your brief moment of clarity would be his absolute undoing.

"Such-a smart girl, thinkin ahead like that.” You missed the subtle grinding of his back teeth as he whispered against your hair.

“Mm, thank you, Alpha.” You purred back, oblivious and happy.

He should have known better that this instant connection would have to be dragged along more slowly than he’d hoped. He’d lost his patience, and you’d made him believe that maybe you hadn’t had any either.

Everything had been allowed to move so quickly, nearly break-neck speed, and Bucky was more than willing to welcome it. Maybe too willing. Clearly there was more to you than he had originally learned, and your agenda quite possibly didn’t match his own.

His aggression is lidded, letting the steam fill every chamber as he digests your last few words. He tries to think, but each thought is racing around his head with a pulse of pain. Until he has one single thought that speaks aloud above all others.

He leaned in, standing over you to give you a soft, demanding kiss, wet lips locking as his tongue tapped your teeth before he pulled away and padded off towards the bathroom. Your hands grappled with him at first to keep him by your side, only relenting when he gave you a few reassuring words.

“Just a minute, Omega. I’ll be right back, ok?”

You nodded lazily before letting your head fall back on the soft pillows.

He’s shaking by the time he pushes past the threshold of the small bathroom, barely maintaining his much-needed restraint. Surely it was only the alpha that rattled its chains within him that was angry at this news. Surely, his true self would let you dance with him at your own pace instead of demanding submission.

He prided himself on being a loving man, an understanding man, a respectful man. He was still in control, not the Alpha inside.

He’d closed his eyes so as to center himself, his face pulling into a pinched expression. He let his surroundings fade in as he slowly cracked his eyes open, taking in the dim light of the bathroom before his narrowed pupils landed on a small floral bag perched on the granite sink.

It was the only piece of luggage to have been carried this far into the cabin. A little hygiene bag that was, no doubt, filled with toiletries, makeup,...and medication.

It held your betrayal, your means of evading him. He glared down at the insignificant tote as if it had the capacity to mock him.

The back and forth with these young omegas was a game Bucky used to play willingly, but times have changed. He wasn’t a young man anymore, and some more drastic measures may have to be made so he could finally settle down. He wanted to be a good man to such a wonderful woman like you, but he was done with being disappointed.

He couldn’t risk letting you slip through his fingers, and he wouldn’t let a pill the size of his pinky tip stand in his way.

He hooked his nail onto one of the zippers, pulling it open just a slit to be easily widened by his fingers. He carefully invaded your unsuspecting border as you slept, slipping his hand into the bag while pushing the sides further open for him to see into deep black fabric.

He felt the guilt and the regret each second he spent to find your source of power against him, his stomach tightening when he had them between his fingers.

His knees tried to lock, keeping him from moving away from the bag as he stared at the little white pills.

He could ask himself as to how he fought not to bite her, while at the same time he isn’t able to defeat this. His inner alpha had become a familiar opponent. Denying himself the things he’d desired the most was far too commonplace, and those would be the straw that broke his back. Your subtle betrayal.

Maybe if he kept you satiated, acting as a riptide barely keeping you afloat long enough for a breath of air, you wouldn’t notice your contraception was missing.

You’d be none the wiser if anything took, blissfully unaware of the seeds he may have planted.

The higher pitch of your needy whine cracked through his brain fog. The sound of you calling him back to bed, no doubt sweaty and ravenous like you had been before. It gave his conscious self time to peak through, only for his inner monster to squeeze past it towards your sweet siren call.

“Just a minute." He growled back, his teeth clacking together tightly as he gripped the sink with one hand, and that little silvery pack crinkled in the other.

He tore his hand from the sink and grabbed at the lid to the latrine before flipping it up with a clatter of porcelain.

His thumb pressed against the little white menace before it popped out of the foil and fell to the still water below. He stared at the empty bubble, feeling a better part of himself tear away and fade into obscurity as he chose to push another pill out. Then another, and another, 5, 6, 7, 8, until all the little pills were left floating precariously in the water.

He looked down at an irreparable offense as the little white souls seemed to cling to one another before their sterile lagoon began to swirl and swish, sucking them down into its whirlpool with a sputter as the commode was flushed.

Bucky hadn’t seen his arm move towards the trigger; he hadn’t noticed that he’d pushed the handle down until all your birth control was sucked away, out of sight but no further out of his mind. He’d successfully knocked away a barrier he’d found between you, feeling all the more lowly for having done so. Would you forgive him if you knew what he’d done only a second ago?

After the short amount of time you spent getting to know one another, moving quickly in terms of relationship wants, needs, and desires. Yet, he still held secrets, and he was sure you did as well. There would always be more to learn, and he wanted every morsel of your mind and soul now.

You made him so greedy that even this small amount of yourself he was denied made him throw this awful fit.

Once he’d left the bathroom, foil packet crumpled in his fist, he’d tried to justify his previous actions to himself. He did his best to hide the evidence under some food garbage in the kitchen, all while you blindly scented the air in search of him.

Your whimper calling for him was like a hard hammer coming down to crack his heart, and as he returned to your embrace in the twisted blankets, he had to bury his face against your sweaty skin to better busy his mind.

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE, tell me what you think. I’m trying to get my mojo back after what feels like forever since I last posted anything. I’m trying to find time to write…key word trying😅

Tags : @meowmeowyoongles @black-cat-2 @cjand10 @bethyruth @scott-loki-barnes @wintrsoldrluvr @buckysdoll85 @lendeluxe @meowmeowyoongles @magnoliamermaid @heletsmelovehim @mcira @buckysbaby-doll @serendipitouslife90 @unicornicopia1 @animegirlgeeky @matchat3a @darkdemeter @iwudbutnah @winterslove1917 @daddytonysgirl17 @jvanilly @kandis-mom @onyxwolf @thebuckybarnesvault @nicestgirlonline @jbuckybarnesfan @val-writesstuff @ozwriterchick @mandab44 @cringeycookies @ragin-cajun-fangirl @bohemianrhapsody86 @lillianacristina @cadencejames87 @teambarnes72 @ashychangeling @samuelkwinchester @nightofthesea @blackbirdwitch22 @mizunogamii @snapcapquartet @openup-yourmind @ashychangeling @krissydclayton93 @rivernell @futuristiczipperpeachcash @toomanyfandomsshreya @spn-obession

Tags added in comments (50 is the cap) : @whumptastic-world

[transalphabf]

just found your page in a muddled state of heat brain

what would alpha do if he came home and found his omega going into heat all alone? needy and whining and wet in their nest, trying to satiate themself but not being able to?

- 💀🐾 anon (if it’s not taken)

Well, Omega. There's only one thing to do when you find an Omega trying to please themselves without any true satisfaction. We all know that a toy knot will never compare to the feeling of an Alpha spreading your little cunt open on his thick cock, the feeling when your Alpha's knot starts to swell up and promise to pump you full of his thick load.

A toy can never make your eyes roll back and your body arch up with pure desire. Only an Alpha can.

So of course, what else can an Alpha do but claim your cunt and fuck you through your heat and into his rut, to make sure that you're well and truly used properly. That you're so worn out that each orgasm never seems to finish before the next starts when you're hanging off of your Alpha's knot.

[feroluce]

My henghill thought for the day is that Caelus has beaten Boothill in a shooting accuracy contest one (1) time.

Caelus will brag about this at any opportunity. Boothill will loudly deny it and accuse him of cheating- and even threaten to put one right between his eyes if he's feeling particularly spirited- but then he refuses to elaborate on what the hell Caelus could have done to make a deadshot like him miss, so not everyone believes him.

Nobody ever finds out the full story because the only other person that saw it happen was March 7th. And she refuses to talk, because as Boothill was lining up his shot, she watched Caelus cup his hands around his mouth,

and take a huge deep breath,

and then he yelled at the top of his lungs,

"VIDYADHARA CAN GO INTO HEAT!"

Boothill's shot went so wide that Caelus was able to get closer to the target, and March 7th is too embarrassed to admit she's sleeping with that menace BSNZKJSKSKSK

[omegaverse-anthropologist]

soft heat/rut

so in my last post i mentioned that pups’ baby scent starts to dissipate around the time of their first soft cycle

soft cycles are non-reproductive hormonal cycles. omegas experience soft heats, betas experience soft cycles, and alphas experience soft ruts. these begin in childhood (typically around ages 7-9), and are usually considered the beginning of puberty.

soft cycles in general

heightened desire for pack physical contact

more emotional sensitivity

increased nesting drive

sensitive to scent

more frequent instinctive vocalizations (e.g. purring, growling/rumbling, chirping, etc)

territorial behavior over spaces or people the pup declares ‘theirs’

in older pups closer to their full cycles, there may be an aversion to older pack mates of opposing dynamics (e.g., omega pups avoiding older alphas, alpha pups avoiding older omegas). betas do not typically experience an aversion to certain dynamics.

in those same older pups, there may be an increased desire to have close friends or members of their own non-family pack in the nest, regardless of dynamic

soft heat

low-grade fever throughout

private nesting in a bedroom or closet is often an early sign of soft heat

pack feels increased protective instinct toward the pup

intense scent marking

territorial behavior includes nuzzling, scent marking, hissing at invaders

more stationary period, i.e., the omega pup will settle into a nest and stay there for the duration of the soft heat

packmates provide food, companionship, entertainment

soft rut

fever spikes on the first day but breaks quickly

public nesting, e.g. on a sofa or near the entrance of the home

oral fixation, urge to bite or chew. it’s common for alpha pups to have a variety of chew toys

restlessness, i.e., the alpha pup will build a nest near the entrance of the home but will often ‘patrol,’ checking in on pack mates to ensure the den is safe

may insist on accompanying pack mates on errands or become distressed if favored pack mates are missing from the home

territorial behavior includes growling at guests, physically blocking entry to protected spaces, scent marking pack members and favored objects like toys

[transingthoseformers]

Thinking about a mech in heat but like.

They knew it was coming

They recognized the early signs, they just thought they had longer until it ACTUALLY hit and that surely they had time to ignore it just a little longer as they were busy and had more important things to deal with— fuck, here it is :)

[tumblweeds-omegaverse]

random omegaverse thought:

There must be people who experience specific instinct things with indifference or boredom.

Procreative cycle coming up? "Crap, I've got plans this weekend...stupid skip weeks."

Caught an intriguing scent while walking? "But I need to get to work! Shut up brain."

Had a snap response to a distressed sound? "Who was it?! ...right, it's my day off, I can go back to sleep."

Somebody growled at them? "Kid, I'm not a rival, that's my sibling."

Super cozy cuddle session happening nearby? "I'm gonna pass tonight guys, no social battery left, maybe next time."

Group of friends heading out to flirt and check out other singles? "I'm coming with you but only to make sure you all get home safe."

Setting where fated mates or soul bonds or permanent marks are a thing? "Meh. I don't really want one or care if I ever get one."

People in the actual omegaverse would get as bored of their stuff, as we do of ours, you know? It could be interesting to see that kind of vibe in fics. Biological demands faced with all the excitement of paying bills or doing laundry or tying your shoes.

Even if that kind of energy might not drive a plot, it could be interesting to have as a contrast to the people who do have big feelings about them - good or bad.

There's the friends who can't wait til they have a pack of their own, and the one friend who isn't against it but couldn't care less. There's the group in the office who are all about scent compatibility tests and figuring out one's best match and what sprays most highlight it, and the coworker who has no intentions on putting that much effort in. There are parents who hover and protect their offspring by scenting them multiple times a day, and others who don't see what the fuss is as long as it's done in the morning.

...also: packs with introverts who show care by giving each other space. So often, closeness is depicted through physical touch and tactile affection, but comfortable silence is meaningful too. Knowing people are near, but not having to interact until you're ready. Sitting in the same room doing different things, knowing that all it takes is a "hey, look at this" to share what you're up to. People understanding and accepting each other's differing or fluctuating needs for how and when to recharge. Seeing somebody reaching out or sharing space, beyond what's their norm, as a signal of the fact that they care.

[underdark-dreams]

This fic will explore the fanon of Tiefling rut/heat cycles: specifically, what happens when a stressed, overworked, sexually pent-up wizard is confronted with his own biology and his feelings about a certain hero all at once?

Thank you @rolansrighthorn for kindly beta reading this chapter!

Rolan x afab!Tav

Birds and Bees - Ch.1

The new Master of Ramazith's Tower hasn't been feeling well. Rolan isn't quite sure what's wrong with himself, but when Tav arrives back in Baldur's Gate, things get much worse.

Tags: Tiefling Ruts, Sexual Tension, Mutual Pining | Word Count: 3.4k [Read on AO3]

Rolan awoke feeling sick as a dog. 

He pulled his legs over the edge of the mattress with a wince. The dull ache in his muscles was something he hadn't felt since those first weeks on the road out of Elturel.

He'd slept like hells the past few days; no doubt that was the cause. Once again, bizarre nightmares had left him gasping awake before dawn, covered in a clammy sheen of perspiration.

The dreams featuring Tav, however…

Rolan’s tail shuddered and flicked over the bedsheets behind him at the memory. He pushed those thoughts forcefully from his head. Tav was due back in Baldur’s Gate today—that was the last thing he should be thinking of when she arrived at Sorcerous Sundries.

She’d been away for over a week this time, gathering her materials in the Underdark. He wondered if that meant she'd have enough work to keep her in the city for longer, too. The thought encouraged him enough to rise and dress for the day. He should make sure her alchemy station was prepped and ready for her at the back of the shop, at least. 

Down on the main floor of Sorcerous Sundries, Rolan’s improved mood was instantly tested. Cal took in his face wide-eyed.

“You look awful.”

“And good morning to you,” Rolan responded irritably.

“Is it?” Cal trailed after him as he unlocked and threw open the wide front doors. “Rolan, maybe you need a day off. You look like you barely slept.”

“I'm fine,” Rolan said, voice firm. “Where’s Lia?”

Right as the words left him, a teacup appeared at his elbow.

“Had a feeling you might need it,” Lia told him. “Looks like I was right.”

Too tired to combat both his siblings at once this early in the day, Rolan accepted the tea with a begrudging sigh of thanks. The smell of bitter herbs hit his nose before he took the first sip.

“Doctoring me with folk remedies now?”

Lia waved a dismissive hand as she moved behind the counter. “Yeah, yeah, we all know you'd rather get fussed over by Tav. Can't have you dragging your tail and embarrassing us in front of her, though.”

Cal walked off with a snort.

Rolan shut his eyes and wished he could return straight back to bed. Instead, he drank his tea down in silence and said a prayer for an easy day of work.

He did find himself perking up after a while. It was difficult to stay sullen on such a glorious spring day; clear sunlight streamed generously through the high windows above, and the flow of customers milling into the shop settled into a pleasant, familiar hum. Rolan fell into the rhythm of assisting them here and there, locating scrolls and giving advice on spellwork.

It certainly wasn’t the prospect of seeing Tav again that was improving his mood so much. That’s what Rolan kept telling himself, at least.

Another breeze drifted in through the open atrium behind him, bringing with it the fresh scent of spring wildflowers. Rolan was taken with a sudden fancy to move closer to wherever it emanated from.

“Lovely morning, isn't it?”

Tav stood beaming at him from the doorway, despite the full-to-bursting pack slung over one of her shoulders. Clearly he wasn’t the only one affected by the irresistibly nice weather.

“It rather is,” Rolan agreed. Ignoring her usual protests, he unshouldered the bag from her with a tug; its weight made him question whether she’d stuffed it entirely with minerals.

“Ugh…thanks.” Tav stretched her arms back appreciatively. She was wearing a lightweight tunic, carelessly laced, and the motion strained the fabric over her chest. 

Rolan averted his gaze, feeling rather warm all of a sudden. He instead led Tav back to her workstation near the stairs.

“Looks busy in here,” she remarked with approval. “Business good?”

“Can’t complain. I take it your travels were as successful?” He punctuated the comment by landing her pack on the desk with a heavy thump. Tav laughed.

“Brilliant, actually. I've got a lot to show you, if you can spare the time.”

“Just give me a few minutes,” he answered, turning back to her.

Tav didn’t reply right away; she was frowning at his face. “Rolan, are you ill? You look flushed—” And she reached a hand as if to feel his forehead.

“Of course not,” Rolan answered, a bit too swiftly. Casting for an excuse to create some distance, he moved to the nearby reference shelves and began shoving the mess of books back into their correct cubbies. “Cal, could you grab another stack of the beginner’s Weave series? We’ve sold through.”

Cal looked up from his work rolling scroll pages. “Er, sure…which wing is that again?”

“Nevermind,” Rolan sighed. “I’ll get them myself. Let me know if your station’s missing any supplies,” he added to Tav, letting his voice soften a bit. It earned him a dimpling smile.

Rolan strode away from her toward the portal, feeling that annoying ache in his legs return as he did.

—

Tav watched Rolan’s figure trudge up the staircase with another twinge of concern. Then she set to work connecting all the equipment on her alchemy station. Lia appeared at her side before long, asking after her week’s travels in the Underdark and catching her up on news and gossip from the Gate. It was so nice to have friends like Lia; ones you could pick up right where you left off with.

Tav had emptied her bag onto her desk and begun sorting the small mountain of herbs into separate piles as she listened. “How’s Rolan been doing with everything, really?”

Lia was turning over one of her shards of laculite, idly catching the sunlight in its facets. “Mostly happy. And stressed, and overextended. And completely neurotic about organizing every shelf in the library. You know, typical wizard stuff.”

“I just hope he’s looking after himself,” she said down to her work. The words left her mouth easier than she wished.

Lia leaned a hip against her desk with arms crossed. “You sound interested in helping with that.”

The quake in Tav’s stomach made her feel very caught out, then very stupid. She let out an exhale of laughter instead.

“Rolan’s made it pretty clear that he is not,” she replied. Her fingers began stripping the blooms from her pile of dried mugwort with more force than strictly necessary.

“Between you and me,” Lia mused, “I don’t think Rolan’s anywhere near clear on that subject. Smart people can be real idiots, you know.”

“Who can?”

Rolan was headed from the staircase with an armful of books; he stood behind Lia with a suspicious look. Tav immediately wondered how much he’d heard.

“Rich people,” Lia answered at once, still leaning casually against Tav’s desk. “Lady Whitburn’s handmaid keeps coming in asking for spell scrolls that I’m pretty sure don’t exist. You think she’d get the picture by now.”

Rolan let out a long-suffering sigh and held out the stack of volumes to her. “Take these. And just send Cal to help her next time, that’s why she keeps coming back.”

Lia threw up a hand as if that only proved her point. “Like I said, idiots.” But with one last glance at Tav, she grabbed the books and ferried them away to the front of Sorcerous Sundries.

For her part, Tav resumed the work of preparing the week’s ingredients—there were several large batches of antidote to get through this morning. Rolan took up his usual spot at the desk in her periphery. 

Ever since the first week he’d offered Sorcerous Sundries to her as a home of operations for her alchemy, Tav found herself spending many hours at work beside Rolan like this. They spent the time talking about her travels, or his latest studies with the Weave, or just discussing the last books they’d read. On busier days, he was called away to help customers for most of her visit.

Today, however, Rolan stood unusually silent next to her.

“Sure you’re feeling all right?” She glanced at his back, again noting the tense line of his shoulders.

“Just a bit tired.” Rolan tipped open his massive record of the shop figures. “Haven’t been sleeping well.”

“I could make you something for that, if you like.”

He gave a low huff of laughter as he took up his quill. “From what I hear from my customers, I’d be out cold for days.”

“Really?” She couldn’t help a grin of professional pride, but focused on adjusting the flame under her distilling glass. “Glad they’re selling well.”

“I can barely keep them on the shelves, especially those remedial draughts you make. The last batch lasted three days.”

Though it was satisfying to hear, Tav felt a bit chagrined. “Damn…won’t have more of those for a while. I still need to track down a new materials trader in the Gate. My usual guy moved on to Neverwinter.”

There was a short pause in their little corner, filled only with the sounds of softly bubbling liquid against glass.

“You know,” Rolan said without turning, “you’re welcome to stay here, if it’s easier for you. The guest room’s always empty. That is, so you wouldn’t have to travel across the city on top of finding your new contact.”

“Oh—” Tav tried hard not to read anything into his offer. “Actually, I already left my things with Danis and Bex. But thank you, Rolan,” she added.

Rolan coughed lightly, back still turned. “Of course.” 

There was another pause, longer and strangely awkward. Tav suddenly found she needed something more to occupy her thoughts than watching a flask boil. Reaching down for her pack, she pulled her research journal up to the desk.

It had been many weeks since Rolan brought up that subject. Why now?

Cal and Lia constantly reminded her of the long-standing offer of a room in the Tower anytime she had need of it. For unspoken reasons, she’d always found polite ways of declining.

It wasn’t that Rolan had made her feel unwelcome in any way. After all, he’d opened up the expansive resources of Ramazith’s Tower to her use, lending her all of the delicate and expensive alchemy equipment that she’d never be able to cart back and forth in her travels. She owed much of her current success to his generosity.

But Rolan had proven himself a generous patron for all kinds of arcane arts as Master of Ramazith’s Tower. Really, what made her think she was any kind of special case?

The fact that she’d very much like to be that to him…well.

That was something Tav tried not to think about. It only led her to dangerous territory, such as staring at his hands while he worked a spell and wondering what else they might be good for. Hardly conducive to a friendly, professional relationship. 

And if she was any good at reading signals, friendly but professional was how Rolan wanted to keep things.

Tav shuffled through her notes a bit too briskly and almost scattered them. That was enough dwelling on that subject; clearly, Rolan had plenty to think about without worrying about unwanted advances in his own home. The least she could do to repay his generosity would be to continue respecting his boundaries.

“Noblestalk propagation?”

She glanced over her shoulder. To her surprise, Rolan had moved closer to peer down at the top page in her hands with curiosity.

“Most valuable thing in the Underdark,” she told him. “Even more than mithril. Actually, this is what I wanted to show you—”

Noblestalk fetched a high price for its alchemical power, certainly, but also for its rarity. The delicate mushrooms were notoriously picky about where they grew; it was part of what made them so hard to find. 

Truth be told, she’d been running a little experiment on them down in the Underdark over the past few months. She ran a finger across the charted results as she explained them to Rolan, whose tension seemed to vanish as he listened on with keen interest.

“Obviously the spores took faster in high humidity. But look, they actually did better when I transplanted them in a really cold spot near the river here—which is so odd, most fungi need a bit of warmth—

“Have you tried recreating these artificially? Carrying a sample back to the surface?”

“Not yet.” She scratched her chin in thought. “I’d need to find somewhere underground to propagate it. And I’d rather not spend any more time in the sewers, after that little cult business.”

“Just do it here,” Rolan dismissed, as if it was the plainly obvious solution. “We’ve got quite a few empty vaults now. Shouldn’t be too hard to repurpose one as a greenhouse of sorts.”

As she turned her head to respond, she was caught up short. 

Rolan was still peering intently at her writing. But in his concentration, he’d angled his body very close beside her. His chest nearly brushed her shoulder. She could’ve counted the freckles dusting his nose.

When he reached forward to flip over the page, she felt his other hand actually rest on the far side of her waist—the absent way you might touch someone very familiar to you when moving past them. Heat rose in her cheeks at the gesture.

Perhaps Rolan felt her tense. He blinked, and she watched realization dart over his features. He stepped back at once.

“Apologies.” Then he cleared his throat to add—“Your work is quite engaging.”

Coming from him, the words sounded much nicer than they had a right to. She felt her flush deepening, and quickly turned back to reorder her notes. 

“Thanks,” she laughed, praying it didn’t sound as awkward as it felt rising in her throat.

Behind her back, she heard Rolan return to his desk on her left. Presumably continuing his work on the Sundries inventory; more likely trying to ignore her obvious fluster. 

She clenched her jaw in an attempt to shove that same stupid, fluttery feeling out of her stomach, and returned to the practical work at hand. 

—

Rolan stared down at last week’s sales in his ledger. The figures were a blur of meaningless scribbles in front of his eyes.

Was he feverish? Seriously ill? There had to be a sound explanation for the way he’d just…laid hands on her like that, unthinking. 

He clenched the guilty right hand responsible, feeling its sharp nails press crescent moons into his palm. Idiot. He took a deep breath to regain his composure. 

It only caused that lovely wildflower scent from before to fill his lungs more completely, pulling at his other senses. Perhaps it was emanating from one of the many strange ingredients Tav was always carrying back from the Underdark. Was that what had muddled his mind this way?

He found himself glancing back over his shoulder to where she was bent over her alchemy scales. The pink tip of her tongue was visible between her teeth, a gesture she often made when concentrating.

As Rolan watched, a lock of her hair slipped forward over her shoulder. She swept it absently back behind her ear. The innocuous motion caused another wave of something floral to brush past his face, stronger this time.

“Are you wearing scent?”

Tav glanced up from the powder she was weighing out, brows raised in question. “What?”

“Nothing,” Rolan said swiftly, shaking himself back to rights a bit. He felt very lucky she seemed to have misheard. He turned back to his work before he could say anything else strange or embarrassing.

With effort, Rolan forced his attention back to the comforting logic of sums and figures. 

The time passed with blessed uneventfulness after that. The soft sounds of glassware and bubbling liquids from Tav’s alchemy faded to an idle lull at the back of Rolan’s consciousness. Nevertheless, he pushed through the past month’s numbers with more difficulty than usual, scratching through multiple errors as his quill moved over the page. He occasionally had to pause to rub at an uncomfortable crick building in his neck.

A laugh came from behind him. “Do you mind?”

Rolan raised his head to look. Tav was gesturing at the corner of her alchemy station with a bemused expression. 

To his own confusion, he found that his tail had traveled there of its own accord sometime in the past minutes. It lay coiled on the wood, its tip flicking back and forth in her direction, as if seeking her attention.

With another chuckle, Tav’s fingers closed around it and lightly dropped the appendage off the edge of her desk.

An involuntary sound caught in Rolan’s throat. The moment her hand connected with his skin, a shock of blood rushed to his groin. He nearly tipped forward in alarm at the feeling.

The rapid redirection left his legs wobbling and bloodless. His knees almost buckled under him; he gripped sharp claws into the edge of his wooden desk to steady himself. 

As the ringing in his ears cleared, he heard Tav reading under her breath behind him while she ground something against her mortar. Praise the gods that whatever just happened to his body had escaped her notice.

“Need a book from the library—”

Without a backward glance, Rolan stumbled toward the stairs.

Spurred on by the knowledge that any customers who might notice his urgent departure would certainly see the reason for it, he strode on double-time for the portal. Only once the swirl of Weave closed behind him, depositing him in the quiet of the Tower, did he release the breath caught up in his lungs.

Seeking to ground himself, Rolan glanced up to watch the golden dust motes drift through a beam of sunlight. It was the strangest sensation to be standing completely still and feel a sweat break out over his brow.

How did he not realize days ago? Muscle aches—difficulty sleeping—heightened senses. All clear indicators that his biology had finally caught up with him, albeit a solid year later than it should have.

Rolan gripped a hand to the back of his head with a groan of realization. Not perfume—it had been Tav herself he kept catching scent of this morning. That sweet smell that practically made his mouth water to recall now was nothing but raw instinct laid bare.

Well, he had no right to complain about the timing. Apparently many frantic months of escaping the Hells, surviving on the road, and battling back an invasion from the Astral Plane had done a lot to delay the inevitable. 

But inevitable it was, and as of today, very much inescapable. There was never really a convenient time for this sort of thing, was there?

It could be worse—as the new keeper of Ramazith’s Tower, at least he found himself with private quarters to retreat to for the entirety of it. If he was lucky, it would all be over in a week, and then he could go on ignoring this unfortunate side effect of his Infernal heritage for a few more uneventful years. 

Lia and Cal could manage the shop for a week without any major calamities, surely?

As Rolan paced the silk carpets of the Tower floor, he forced his feverish mind to finish scrabbling together the plan. His gaze fell on the desk by the window. In the next second, he was putting shaking quill to parchment. Something simple, just enough they’d understand—

Bad week for visitors. Please mind the Sundries while I recover. Tell Tav 

The tip of his quill skipped as he paused, letting a droplet of ink bleed into the page. 

Tell Tav what, exactly? That he was in his room rutting his brains out like an animal in heat? Likely thinking of her while he did?

That line of thought brought a series of unhelpful and very stimulating images to mind. He swallowed down a humiliating sound as the stiffness between his legs grew painfully hard in reaction. Merciful, bloody hells.

Tell Tav nothing, he finished in a scrawl. Rolan folded the note and deposited it on the floor just in front of the portal, where it would be impossible for his siblings to miss. 

Then he turned for the staircase to his bedroom, already mad to rip these chafing gods-damned robes off his skin.

[purrmoon]

🌙 lore: heat/rut cycles & pregnancy

cycles

Heats / ruts, or cycles, happen every 3-4 (or 2-3?) months, and last anywhere from 3-5 days. Suppressants (given in pill and patch form) can help ease the symptoms, or stop them completely—though the latter can be dangerous if overused. It’s recommended to have a natural heat / rut every 2 years.

Beta do not experience a cycle. (Or, perhaps, they experience a much more mild form—I haven’t decided.)

Cycles are not inherently sexual. Most cycles are pack-oriented—meant to strengthen pack bonds, not entice sex. However, they can turn sexual, if sex is instigated.

The days leading up to a cycle are referred to as pre-rut or pre-heat. Often the first sign of a pre-cycle is appetite, which can seem to double overnight as the alpha or omega’s body stores necessary calories. They may experience mood swings. Some may also find themselves clinging to someone—this is especially common in younger a’s & o’s; latching on to an older packmate (of any dynamic) to soothe themselves. They’re especially sensitive to rejection from this person. They spend a lot of time prepping their nests, making sure they’re comfortable, and filled with things that make them (and their pack) feel safe. Both stockpile lots of water, and easy to eat foods. Other pack members (or mates, during a fertile cycle) will supply fresher food when they can—usually by heating prepped meals and/or grabbing cut fruit/vegetables.

Pack Ruts increase an alpha's natural desire to protect their pack. They are often restless and aggressive, reacting violently to perceived threats or intruders (save for pups). Unless they feel particularly safe, they will spend a lot of time alert, sometimes even getting up to patrol the area around their nest, though always keeping their pack in sight. When not doing that, they're scenting and nuzzling their pack, ensuring their well-being and reaffirming their claim. They begin producing more, stronger pheromones, causing their scent glands to become swollen and sensitive. Some Alphas become so restless they may refuse sleep or food; body tension / pain from hyper-vigilance; and tension headaches. They spend most of this time deep in their instincts, clingy, extra sensitive to rejections, & at times non-verbal.

Pack Heats increase an omega's natural desire to nurture their pack. They want to surround themselves, and their pack, with soft things and comforting scents—keeping their pack close and covering them in their scent. They're very protective during this time, especially of pups, and can be just as aggressive as alpha to perceived threats or intruders. They begin producing more pheromones, which can make their scent glands swollen and sensitive. Some omegas report cramping, dizziness, and fatigue, to varying severity. Some omegas experience cravings, while others report nausea or just a general lack of hunger/disinterest in eating. They spend most of this time deep in their instincts, clingy, extra sensitive to rejections, & at times non-verbal.

Fertile Ruts, in addition to the symptoms of a pack rut, increase an alpha's sex drive. Their refractory period is lessened considerably, though if their knot is to "catch" (whether in an omega, or by using certain toys) it can ease the symptoms, and allow them to rest a little longer. Their skin and erogenous zones become more sensitive. They become flushed and feverish.

Fertile Heats, in addition to the symptoms of a pack heat, cause an Omega to produce slick. Their skin and erogenous zones become more sensitive. They become flushed and feverish. Their body craves a knot, desiring to be filled. Normally, it takes a lot of prep for them to be able to take one without pain, but that time is lessened during a fertile heat. It takes multiple orgasms to settle them. During heat, they’re also able to bloom. Blooming is very common... in romance novels. However, it only happens when an Omega feels safe, cherished, protected. A bloomed Omega requires almost no prep to take a knot—though it also means that, without protection, a pregnancy is almost certain.

Packless cycles, also referred to as dry cycles are less frequent, as without a pack to make them feel safe, the body doesn’t enter into a cycle. However, they do still happen (unless the alpha or omega is suffering from malnutrition or other complications). They’re very painful, both physically and emotionally.

pregnancy

For economy of language, except when talking about a specific dynamic, parents will be referred to as a "dam" and "sire."

Female alphas, female betas, and both omega sexes are all capable of bearing pups. Both alphas, male betas, and male omegas are all capable of siring pups, though it's quite difficult for an omega.

Most pregnancies only result in one, maybe two pups. However, on rare occasions, a beta or omega may have litters—litters being 3-4 pups.

Pregnancies generally last around 9 months.

Female alphas have a very difficult time getting pregnant, and their pregnancies are often considered high-risk until the sixth month mark, with c-sections being common. They are incapable of having litters.

Betas rarely have litters—usually just twins, at the most, and that’s still rarer than a single birth.

Omegas are the most fertile of the three dynamics, and have the highest chance of having litters. Litters are generally only conceived if an omega feels safe/cherished/protected, and are more likely if an omega blooms during conception.

A dam will begin nesting around month 7 or 8, creating a pup nest within the pack or parent's nest. A pup nest is a smaller nest or burrow, meant to keep the pup safe & warm—protected from any nestmates rolling into them, and hidden from prying eyes.

[shybunny]

18+ ONLY 💗 MINORS DNI

weird furry scifi shit, spacefaring dragon searches the galaxy for a warm willing spaceship to lay her eggs inside 🛸

Stelmander was a type of dragon who could travel between the stars. Like most of her kind, she spent most of her time circling star systems, soaking up solar rays through the cells in her outstretched wings, and visiting planets to perform benevolent deeds. During her travels she met many beings, mostly smaller folk, but she occasionally came across another dragon too, and she wasn’t above a little daliance when she did.

Soon after one of these encounters, Stelmander felt that her egg-laying time was drawing near. She began to fly through the galaxy at top speeds, searching for a spaceship to lay her eggs inside. The living spaceships that small folk used to travel between the stars all came equipped with a warm, moist chamber designed to incubate dragon eggs. Stelmander used her psychic perception to follow a trail of warped space left in the wake of such a ship, and soon she was hailing the crew via microwave radio.

The ship was called Ahajas. Its sailors all greeted Stelmander excitedly, because it was considered good luck to encounter a dragon in deep space. The spaceship also signaled its own interest to her on a specialized subspace channel. But when she asked the captain for permission to dock, he was forced to deny her.

“I beg your pardon, madame,” he said. “It would have been an honor to accept you, but we’re carrying a cargo of life-saving medicines and cannot be delayed.”

Stelmander accepted this answer, and thanked the captain and went on her way, even though she could feel herself swelling with eggs. She would have to find another spaceship fast. She picked up another fresh warptrail and hurried after it, following it like a scent, and as she flew she could feel her ovipositor beginning to swell, to push through the swollen lips of the opening between her legs.

The second ship was called Perelandra, and it was even more voluptuous than the last. Stelmander was desperate to mount the soft warm hull, to insert herself into the soft wet heat of the incubation chamber, to lay egg after egg deep inside…

She was so distracted by her fantasies that she almost ignored the warnings that both the spaceship and its crew were urgently sending her. It turned out that Perelandra was temporarily infected with the Lormot virus—harmless to spaceships, but deadly to spacefaring dragons. Stelmander was forced to leave the voluptuous spaceship behind and look for another.

By now her ovipositor was fully extended and aching. She was getting really desperate—she had to find somewhere to lay her eggs. She followed another trail and met a third ship called Mima. She urgently asked the captain for permission to dock, but again she was refused.

“I’m afraid it’s not possible,” said the captain, “it’s simply not possible. The Mima is a pedigree ship, madame, we’re due to accept another dragon’s clutch in less than a week. Simply not possible.”

But Stelmander was barely listening. The spaceship was already in heat—its incubation chamber was in peak condition to accept a clutch of eggs—and it was signaling to her pathetically on its subspace channel, desperately begging for her eggs. The invitation was impossible to resist. Stelmander felt the pulsing contractions inside her, squeezing the eggs into her ovipositor. It was out of the hands of the small folk now. Mima needed her eggs, and she had to lay them right now.

Stelmander ignored the captain’s spluttered protests as she mounted the spaceship. She gripped the hull in her enormous talons to hold it in place, pressed her aching ovipositor deep into the moist heat of Mima’s incubation chamber, and laid egg after egg into the grateful spaceship’s pulsing inner cavities.

[samanddean76]

Betting Against The House

What started as nothing more than a quest to avenge the death of his brother Gabriel, led Castiel to become the most prolific assassin to have ever lived. After he succeeded in taking out the head of the Winchester Crime Family, he was taken in by the Novak Syndicate. But Michael began to fear the monster he’d helped create and betrayed Castiel.

Dean knew he held all the power, in possession of a secret that would level the playing field. He knew that toying with the captured assassin might not end well, but he found that he simply couldn’t help himself.

Simple and straightforward went right out the window when Lady Luck got her hands on the brand-new deck of cards. Stacking them, so her favorite Alpha and Omega would have a chance to make all their dreams come true.

Rating: Explicit | Word Count: 15.8k | Pairing: Destiel

I am so thrilled to finally be able to present this story that I created for the Bottom Cas Big Bang to you! And I was fortunate enough to once again be paired up with @alicetallula who created some awesome art for this intriguing story! I hope you all check it out! And hang on for a wild ride that twists and turns right up until the end!

Story: Ao3 | Art: Tumblr | Mature Art: Tumblr

Content Warning: Even though it is set in a Mob AU, the story has non-graphically described Canon-Typical violence.

[sketchyface]

Get that fucking out of here I want to know the sociological implications of omega discrimination!

[transingthoseformers]

Megatron and Optimus both forget their semimonthly meds and go out to fight anyhow...

Leads to tgis gem of an exchange.

"Starscream you fool! Pause the war! I need to clang his bolts off!" Megatron catching a whiff of Optimus' pheromones.

"Bold of you to assume it's not me who'll be clanging your bolts off! Megatron!" Optimus catching a whiff of Megatron's pheromones and charging.

"Megatron has fallen... to his heat cycle! Now I, Starscream, lead the Decepticons while Lord Megatron is on maternity leave!! You lot start stock piling suplies for the nursery!" Starscream making a quick save as Soundwave prepares to shoot him.

Hsdhdhd YES

Starscream that's hilarious, and yes of course Soundwave is absolutely down to nip that in the bud immediately

Soundwave's the MVP

[harlequinoccult]

Wait a minute. I must have missed a few episodes.. But what's with the topic of Omegaverse? 😭

you didnt miss much! it started here and continued here

tldr, i dont know omegaverse beyond the basic concept bc early tumblr was certainly a time to be alive, i cant give any answers about it because i don't know shit about it lol

no this is not an invitation to explain omegaverse to me

[marc--chilton]

cameron is SO FAR FROM NORMAL. but in a neurotypical way imo. like. i'm sorry but. she is the MOST "i accept autistic people! but i'm totally going to judge you for your autistic traits" kinda neurotypical in my opinion. house's speech in Lines in the Sand is SO accurate. hit me right in the feels.

kutner and chase i both hc as adhd but in different ways. chase is not as impulsive as kutner. chase is the "i am incredibly fidgety and also not paying attention to you" type. kutner is the "i will do anything on a dare, you don't even need to dare me out loud, i will just do it, i have zero impulse control and i need dopamine" type. (i am both of them at different times, i got the trifecta).

i completely understand the lack of desire to detail with specifics each how each medication interacts with mgv cycling. that would take an eternity. i am a major medical nerd, and that is too big of an endeavor for even me to take on.

does wilson get the same protective/parental instincts around his ruts that house gets around his heats? if so are they directed towards the same people? if no and their cycles sync so house is feeling motherly while wilson is nearing rut does wilson view the Chosen Ducklings as a threat?

also. alpha rumbles/purrs? are they like cat purrs where the cat heals quicker when purring. is it controllable or does it just happen or is it like sneezing where you can push it away but it will come back? does it annoy betas

-🎸 (i am not a fish) (i am a large, terrestrial ape) (i have no gills)

"cameron is so far from normal in a neurotypical way" nothing more to say there

in a way, wilson does get some protective instincts, but. those instincts have been there for a while. he gets overwhelmingly overprotective of house sometimes pre-rut. to the point that even house has to correct him for being Too Much. when he gets like that it's usually the last day he's in before he goes on rut leave as he doesn't get much work done and impedes house's methods (those times where house aggravates a patient so they'll get pissed off and go into [medical emergency] to test a theory. but this time the patient is put off because wilson's hovering behind house, exuding intimidation in every inch of body language, just daring them to try something.)

when it comes to the Chosen Ducklings as you put it, wilson doesn't consciously think of them as "his pups" the same way house subconsciously thinks of them as (house referring to them as such out loud came from an acceptance of his hindbrain taking to them when he never made an effort to open his heart to them or whatever it just. happened. they're kinda like oopsie babies) yet once they're together, she shows them affection automatically and without thought, rut or not.

when in rut and prior to hilson canonization (and post-pup-actualization on house's end. so many steps. "when the stars align" headass) he doesn't view them as a threat so much as like. jealousy, in a weird way. even if he's rankled and grumbles some corrective noise at house for trying to tease him to get him to back off, he'll get huffy when he sees house bother chase and thirteen instead. but because he doesn't doubt the sincerity of house adopting them, informal as it is, he doesn't get between them either. rut makes you stupid, but wilson's smart enough to remember not to intrude on an omega and their pups.

btw. house totally mothers chase and thirteen in his houseian way, but refers to himself as their dad. but when he and wilson have giselle, house is 'mom'. doesn't elaborate.

[underdark-dreams]

WIP Preview: Birds & Bees Ch.3

Have been slowly cooking on a doozy of a final chapter for my Rolan x Tav rut fic Birds and Bees, featuring plenty of smut, feelings, and smut-with-feelings. (why not all three?)

But first a preview of the pure smut, for everyone who has followed & patiently waited for updates! I love you all!

“I should take a sample of your blood this week,” Tav said with sudden inspiration. “Blood alchemy during a heat cycle…not sure it’s ever been tried.”

“Really?” Rolan was kissing idly across her shoulder blades while she lay reading on her stomach. “If you truly want to, I’d give you a vial. Not sure what applications you'd expect to get out of it.”

“I can think of one very lucrative one.”

She flipped through a few more pages before she caught Rolan looking at her quizzically.

“Aphrodisiacs?” She gave a wave of her hand, as if it was quite obvious. “If I could bottle up some of that magic, I'd be a rich woman.”

Rolan looked a bit scandalized before he caught the corners of her mouth twitching. His eyes glinted.

“You’re insufferable.” He clicked his tongue at her. “I’ve trusted you during a very delicate time, you know.”

“Hmmm.” She continued lazily through her book. “Maybe I'll just save it up for myself, then. You only go into rut every year or two, don't you? I might want to store away some of that virility for a rainy day.”

“You absolute menace—”

She felt a thrill like that of a misbehaving child before Rolan pounced on her. His hands landed beside her elbows as his warm weight pressed her body deliciously into the mattress.

“I'm perfectly capable of getting you off any time of any year.” The thick ridges of his length slid hard over her rear, punctuating his statement.

“But I've never slept with you outside your cycle, have I? I'd have no way of knowing,” she protested lightly, though the way she arched and rubbed back against his cock undercut her teasing completely.

Rolan nipped at a spot behind her shoulder that made her shiver, and his baritone ghosted beside her ear. “I can think of a few well-proven methods.”

His fingers reached to drag her prop book away out of her grip. Then his body heat left her. Before Tav could look back, she felt his hands hook under the front of her pelvis and tug, lifting her ass upward off the mattress. He kept pulling until she’d been forced to scoot her knees all the way up under her hips and drop her shoulders.

With her chest pressed down against the sheets and her ass propped vulgarly upward, she felt an exposing rush of cool air across the wet spot between her legs. More aching desire was already pooling at her entrance, and she was certain Rolan was taking a very long look at the view she was presenting him.

Just as she tried to crane her neck against the sheets to see his face, Rolan’s hot breath ghosted across her cunt.

A trembling whine caught in her throat. She found herself arching her back as far as she could, giving him a full view and complete access, shamelessly eager for the feel of his mouth on her.

Rolan’s fingers cupped around her thighs. When the tip of his nose brushed near her entrance, she heard him inhale deeply against her.

The small gesture was obscene and shockingly arousing. She bit back a gasp. She throbbed between her legs and felt a drop of slick leak out and roll down her inner thigh. Without pause, Rolan’s hot tongue swept it from her skin.

“Gods,” he groaned, and she felt his mouth vibrate against her thigh. “You are utterly delicious. Do you know what you do to me?”