#it's the hormone fluctuation of course

[famewolf]

I forgot to do my shot for a couple of weeks, whoops. but it's always so wild to me how calm and centered I feel afterwards. not having T makes me feel neurotic and all over the place. I can always tell when it's time to do my shot because the day before I get a little irritable.

[esote-rika]

More of you to worship | Spencer Reid

Pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!reader

Category: fluff, mild angst

Summary: Spencer Reid has insecurities about his changing body, and you assure him you love him regardless.

Content: body insecurity, established relationship, one mention of New Year

Word count: 1.5k

A/N: Quick little oneshot to end the year! You can thank @reidgif for this one because this gif rekindled my hyperfixation on his tummy. And then I saw a clip of Aisha (Tara’s actress) saying MGG weighs 11 pounds and has the metabolism of a rabbit on speed (lmfao) anyway, I took that and ran with it and now here we are. As someone who struggles with dysmorphia, I did my very best to be as sensitive with this as possible. Last fix of the year, I hope you enjoy it!

Spencer had begun to notice it a few weeks ago. At first, he had foolishly thought that there was simply something wrong with the shirt he had worn. Tactile sensitivity had always been something he dealt with, and this was no different. There had been a certain peculiarity in the fit of his shirt that he couldn’t quite pinpoint. Days continued, and it became a persistent bother, impeding his movement when he aimed, and inhibiting his general comfort.

It wasn’t until today, sitting in the bed—one he shared with you—that he finally had the time to inspect what was going on. The two of you had just gotten home from Rossi, who had graciously hosted a New Year’s dinner at his mansion. Spencer had admittedly eaten more than his fill, and that’s when he realized—it showed.

At once, the problem appeared. He was gaining weight. His shirts were bothering him because they were growing too tight, digging into places where they had previously been loose. The realization made him pause, as he stared down at himself.

Sitting on the bed, his stomach had gathered into a bulge, straining against the cloth. It was a new sight, not necessarily unwelcomed, but it seemed to send his mind reeling (to be fair, a lot sent his mind reeling nowadays, he was running on fumes, his only reprieve being you.)

He had never been muscular, had never found the need to be muscular. The team was nearly faultless because everyone filled a role, and they executed that well. He was, has always been, the genius, the expert on everything, as Hotch had called him once. Being the genius of the BAU meant that he had value. Relevance. It brought him great deal of pride, being able to contribute and pick up on patterns and little details that the majority of the team might miss.

It made him feel like he mattered. Needed.

So what if he couldn’t tackle a man down? They used to have Derek and Hotch for that, and now that role was being fulfilled by Luke and Matt, both of whom were utter specimens of the male physique.

But his time in prison had proven to him that he couldn’t rely on just his brains. Not when he had three burly inmates looking for trouble, looking for someone easy. It pained him that someone easy meant someone that looked like him. Tall, gangly, defenseless.

He took another breath and frowned as the fabric around his stomach grew tighter, taut at having to contain this belly that had formed over the course of the evening. A food baby, you liked to call it, because your own tummy was bonded to several factors as well—hormones, food, water intake—that made it fluctuate frequently, normally.

Normal. He tried to remind himself that this was normal, gaining weight was normal, but then again, how could someone tell what was normal when their—his—whole life, he had little experience with the word? Growing up a genius and taking care of an ailing mother skewed whatever sense of normalcy he could have developed.

Besides, his normal meant lanky, thin. His body, the way it was framed and built, had always been long and erring on the side of delicate. It wasn’t that he hadn’t tried to bulk up, it was that his muscles were lean; that was simply how his anatomy worked. It would take a lot more effort to gain more muscle, effort that he, admittedly, didn’t want to exert. It wasn’t his role.

And now, he looked down at his stomach with a crease on his brow, mind whirring with explanations. Weight fluctuations are normal, and they were okay, and he was nearing forty, anyway, of course his metabolism was beginning to slow down, human adults’ bodily functions tend to do that, it was scientific and —

“Honey?”

He looked up, and there you were, your loveliness framed by the plain doorway. Somehow, you made it seem more magical, less boring, as though your very presence just made everything better. He smiled, holding out a hand for you, forcing the wave of insecurity down his throat, down his chest, trying to bury it deep in the recesses of his body.

You walked closer, and the thoughts punched through his attempts to silence them—you wouldn’t find him attractive anymore.

Something must have shifted on his face, a sliver of that anxiety creating fresh lines between his brows, because you paused. A hand ran across your cheek, and he felt the weight of your concern in the action.

“What’s wrong, Spence?”

He drew you closer, pulled you onto his lap. He couldn’t lie to you, not out of his lack of skill, but due to your incessant ability to somehow sniff out the truth from him, one way or another.

“I think I’m outgrowing my shirts.” he said, softening the words with a chuckle. He was ashamed to admit that it was affecting him more than he anticipated; maybe humor would lessen its significance.

“Aren’t you a little too old to be going through puberty?” you asked, matching the teasing tone of his voice. The difference was glaring though; his voice was awfully strained, and yours was lighter, more at ease.

Still, he laughed, buried his face at the nape of your neck. “They’re getting tight around my stomach.”

At that, you pulled back. He swallowed the whine that threatened to leave his lips; he was already being so pathetic over a little pudge, he was reaching max capacity. With bated breath, he watched as your gaze ran over him, eyes flickering with recognition when they landed on his torso.

“Oh they are,” You replied, hands going up to his shoulders, tugging at the fabric there, “Here too. Huh, I guess we’ll have to go shopping then.”

He looked, patiently waited for more.

“What?” you asked, eyes crinkling oh so prettily at the corners that he couldn’t help but press a kiss over them.

“That’s it?” he murmured, disbelief coloring his voice. He had anticipated more of a reaction, maybe a suggestion of ‘oh maybe you should go to the gym’. But you took it with such stride that he was a little confused.

“Yeah, that’s it.” you laughed, brought a palm down to his stomach, that one place that’s causing him to basically break down, “Should there be more?”

He shrugged.

Perched on his lap, you frowned as you watched emotions flicker through his eyes. “Spence,” You murmured, kissing his temple, “Talk to me.”

“I just don't want you to think I'm unattractive anymore.” The words felt bitter in his tongue; it was a relief to release them, get them out of his system. “I was never - you know - sexy before, and now I'm gaining weight.”

“Spence,” You interrupted him gently. It wasn't something you did often; his rambles were one of the things you loved about him after all, but it pained you to hear him get so insecure about something so insignificant as his weight, especially since his body wasn't even the thing that made him attractive to you in the first place, “Belly pudge or scrawny, I think you're hot.”

His eyes softened, looking so impossibly hopeful that you couldn't stop the urge to lean in and kiss him. “Seriously,” You murmured, “It doesn't matter to me. You're handsome, but you're also so intelligent and passionate and sensitive, and those are so much more important than how you look.”

He sagged with relief, arms tightening around you. “Yeah?” He asked as he buried his face in your hair.

“Yeah, honey. I'm not with you because of your looks,” You replied, then with a little laugh, you added, “Although, they certainly are an added bonus.”

His shoulders shook as he chuckled, and you can feel his lips giving you tiny kisses at the crown of your head.

“Besides,” You continued, toying with the hair at the nape of his neck, “The way I see it, there's physically more of you now - more of you to hug, and to love, more of you to worship.”

He was silent, but his grip on you never faltered, breath fanning gently over your hair. “More of me to love.” He whispered, “You're right, that's - that's one way to look at it.”

“Mhmm,” You nodded, “But you really do need to go shopping, can't have you ripping your shirts while you're out on a case. You wouldn't want your team to think you're doing an impromptu strip tease.”

He bursted out laughing, and exhilaration filled your chest. You always took pride in making him laugh, and this was no exception.

“God, I love you.” He said, pulling back and resting his forehead against yours.

“I love you too.” You smiled, then added, “Besides, I think the pudge is cute. You're on your way to a dad bod.”

He laughed again, and if you could hear that sound on loop forever, then you would be in heaven

[corroded-hellfire]

Hii I love your work I was wondering I have a request for a AYW blurb/side story. I'm inspired by the hockey game I just went to

So let's say luke is in college or in high-school and he has hid first game and reader gets mildly anxious that he gets hurt and eddie reassures her everything going to be okay and he wins and they all go out to dinner.

Idk just something fluffy.

Thank you

Hockey?! Now you're speaking my language. I can't believe I never thought of Luke playing hockey before. Thank you for putting this in my brain!

Words: 2.5k

[As You Wish masterlist]

Magenta painted toes curl inside your thick, fluffy socks. The little girl who applied the shiny polish the other day stands on the metal bleacher, between you and your husband. Her little knees bend and straighten as she bounces up and down, two curly pigtails bobbing along with the motion below the soft pink beanie on her head. 

“Let’s go, Luke!” Eliza cheers. Small brown boots stamp on the metal surface below her as she claps her mitten-clad hands.

Eddie chuckles from the other side of her, one arm hovering around her small frame in case she loses her balance. The hockey game hasn’t even started yet and Eliza is ready to hand her big brother the MVP award. 

The chill from the ice rink soaks into your skin even through the layers of your long-sleeved tee and jacket. Your gloves seem to do nothing to keep your fingers from turning into icicles, so you tuck your hands between your thighs, hoping the body warmth can thaw them out. 

“You okay, babe?” Eddie asks, leaning back to look at you around your four-year-old. 

The nod you give isn’t convincing, even to yourself. You couldn’t be prouder of Luke for making the Hawkins High School hockey team as a freshman, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t worried about him getting hurt. The fresh batch of pregnancy hormones coursing through your system isn’t helping matters either. 

An obnoxious buzzer blares from the speakers on the wall as the scoreboard sets itself down to all zeroes. The crowd full of families and friends starts cheering as the two teams pour out onto the ice. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Eliza become airborne and you look to see Eddie lifting her over his lap so she’s standing in between him and Ryan instead of him and you. A steady arm wraps around you, and you gladly lean into your husband’s embrace.

“He’s going to be fine,” Eddie tells you.

“I know.”

“Yeah? Because you look like you’re about to storm onto the ice and drag Luke home by the collar of his jersey.”

You release a deep sigh and try to get your tense shoulders to relax. 

“He’s played sports before,” you say, sounding more like you’re convincing yourself than the man next to you. “Baseball, basketball. But this is different.”

“Why’s that?” Eddie knows exactly what’s different–it’s your usual protective Mama Bear energy enhanced tenfold due to your fluctuating hormone levels. But he isn’t dumb enough to come out and say that—again.

“Because,” you huff. “Now there are blades and sticks and boards he could be slammed into or ice he can fall down on.”

Eddie rubs his hand up and down your shoulder. It helps both comfort you and warm you up. 

“There are sticks in baseball,” he points out. “They’re just called ‘bats.’ And he’s fallen and skinned his knees both running the bases and on the basketball court. As for being slammed into the boards?” Eddie lets out a breathy chuckle. “That would be nothing compared to having little She-Hulk over here as a sister.”

You let out a small giggle, peeking around your husband to see Eliza enthusiastically shaking Ryan’s shoulder, pointing to where number 86 is out on the ice, warming up.

“I guess that goes for any hockey fights, too,” you say.

“See? Now you’re getting it.” Eddie smiles fondly at you and places a kiss against your temple.

A referee blows a whistle and both you and Eddie watch as the two teams take their places for the first face-off of the game. 

Luke’s best friend Sean skates up to the blue line, right in the center and ready to battle for the puck. Next to his number 19 jersey is Luke to his side as the right winger. The referee drops the puck and the game begins. 

Both your and Eddie’s eyes are glued to your son as play moves around the ice. Your gazes follow him up the ice and back down before he hops onto the bench for a shift change. Without her brother now to focus on, Eliza comes up with a new way to entertain herself: a cheer.

“Let’s go, Tigers!” Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap.

It only takes two turns of her cheering before the home crowd joins in, leaving the little girl beaming, proud to have started the trend. She’s no stranger to different cheers for the team; whenever Luke plays basketball, Eliza only cares to focus on the cheerleaders doing their routines on the sidelines. Ryan tends to pay a lot of attention to them too, but for different reasons. By now, Eliza could probably mimic most of Hawkins High’s cheerleading repertoire. 

A few minutes later, Luke hops back on the ice and you feel the nerves flutter in your stomach. It’s a very different, and distinctly more unpleasant, feeling than the fluttering of having a baby in there. 

“He’s okay,” Eddie murmurs to you, just loud enough to be heard over the din of the rink. 

You nod, but slip your hand into his for reassurance, nonetheless. 

“Mama?” Eliza crawls over her father’s lap, clearly not paying attention to where her bony little limbs are jabbing him, and reaches out to you. “I gotta go potty.”

A battle of emotions collide in your head as you nod and offer your hand to her. One part of you is thankful to get a small distraction from the game, your eyes able to relax instead of seeking out Luke’s constant presence. The other part of you is worried that something will happen while you’re not there, though. As if him getting a hard cross check from an opposing player wouldn’t have occurred if you were still in your seat. 

The ladies’ room is mildly warmer than the rest of the rink, and you lean on the outside of the stall door that Eliza goes into.

“You okay by yourself in there?” you ask.

“Mhmm! Wait. Can you hold my mittens?”

Once the stall door is relocked, you slip the pink mittens into your jacket pocket and listen as Eliza begins to hum a tune to herself. It’s difficult to tell at first, but you’re able to identify the song as I’ll Make a Man Out of You from Mulan. 

After Eliza finishes up, washes her hands, and slips her mittens back on, the two of you step out of the restroom. Before you’re able to take two steps in the direction of your seats, a horn blares, signaling a goal.

Eliza gasps and quickly tugs on the hem of your jacket because she’s too small to see what’s going on over the wall. You scoop her up and the two of you stand at the glass, near the net that was just scored upon. Both of you cheer when you see that it was the Tigers who got the first goal. Luke is sitting on the bench on the other side of the ice though, so you know he wasn’t the one who scored it. 

When the two of you get back to your seats, the first period is coming to an end. Eliza settles comfortably in her father’s lap and tilts her head to look up at him.

“What we miss?”

“Uh, Luke knocked a guy down against the wall over there.”

“Luke hit a guy into the boards,” Ryan translates into proper hockey terminology, smirking at his dad as he does so. 

“That’s what I said,” Eddie says. “And, uh, there was a penalty called on Sean for sticking a guy, so he went to sit out.”

Ryan snorts. “Sean’s stick got caught in another guy’s skates, so he got a penalty for tripping and was in the penalty box.”

“Time out!” Eliza declares. 

“Am I speaking Japanese?” Eddie asks, making Eliza giggle and curl into his lap.

“Of course not,” you assure your husband with a pat to his chest. “Just not speaking hockey either.” You giggle when he shoots a playful glare your way. But you manage to make it better by pressing a few kisses along his stubbled cheek. 

During both the first and second intermissions, Eliza entertains herself by looking for friends of Ryan’s or Luke’s in the stands and begging her oldest brother to take her to them. At one point, Eliza spots Ryan’s more-than-friend-not-quite-girlfriend-yet, Hannah, a few rows back and quickly makes her way up to her. Ryan’s face blooms scarlet as he follows behind his little sister, who has made herself comfortable in Hannah’s lap.

“Did you see Lukey?” Eliza asks the teenage girl. 

“I did!” Hannah says, smiling at Ryan as he takes a seat next to her.

Eddie leans in, his breath tickling your ear. “Do you think Eliza will ask Hannah to go out with Ryan before he gets around to it?”

You agree with a soft giggle and nod. 

“Oh, absolutely. Ryan’s so nervous and Eliza doesn’t have the patience for that,” you say. “God help any boy who is slow to ask her out in high school.”

Strong hands grab your sides, thick fingers digging into your ribs as your husband tickles you. A small yelp escapes your lips before you turn and burrow your head into Eddie’s neck.

“Hush your mouth,” Eddie murmurs. “Eliza isn’t going to date until she’s thirty.”

“Good luck with that.” You laugh and playfully shove his hands away from you.

Just as the third period is about to begin, Eliza and Ryan make their way back towards the two of you on the bleachers. Ryan has a lovesick smile on his face and the sight makes you smile in return.

“Have fun with the big kids?” Eddie asks as Eliza plops down next to him.

“Mhmm,” she nods, brown eyes scanning the ice for where Luke is. “Hannah say she likes my hat. And Juan said Mama is really cute.”

“What?” Eddie asks, arm immediately encircling you. “Who?”

“Ryan’s friend.” Eliza waves a dismissive hand in the boy’s direction, her focus still on the ice.

Eddie goes to look over his shoulder but you quickly grip his chin between your thumb and forefinger and bring his gaze back to meet yours.

“Really?” you ask him quietly. It’s impossible to suppress the amused smile on your lips. “Are you going to stare down a sixteen-year-old boy?”

“I don’t need a younger man hitting on my wife,” he says.

You laugh, shaking your head at his ever-present jealousy. 

“I don’t know if you noticed,” you say, “but I like older men. And no one is hitting on me.”

“Yet,” Eddie says, raising his eyebrows at you.

“Shoot it, Luke!”

Ryan’s shout refocuses your and Eddie’s attention back on the game in front of you. Luke stick handles the puck past a defenseman and skates closer to the opposing team’s net. You hold your breath as you watch Luke wind back his stick and slap the puck to the five-hole, between the goalie’s pads. Time moves in slow motion as you watch the black rubber disc travel over the goal line.

The siren blares and you stand up, raising your arms in the air as you cheer for your son.

“That’s my boy!” Eddie shouts, cupping his hands around his mouth.

“That’s my brotherrrrrr!” Eliza mimics.

Ryan hoots and hollers as you clap enthusiastically, a huge smile on your face. 

The other Tigers hockey players on the ice skate over to Luke, either tapping him on the leg or ass with their stick or knocking their helmet against his. 

The PA system overhead crackles to life before a student announcer says, “Goal scored by number eighty-six, Luke Munson!”

The crowd cheers, punctuated by a certain little girl’s shrill “Yay!” 

“Assisted by number nineteen, Sean Lowery, and number four, Alex Duffy!”

“Yay, Sean!” Eliza yells.

Luke’s goal ends up being the game-winning goal, which causes his team to pile on top of him once the game is over. 

“They’re going to hurt him,” you mumble as you stand up from the bleachers.

Eddie rolls his eyes, not unkindly, from his seat—he knows you won’t be able to see him since you’re standing. Your husband rises to his feet and presses a kiss to your temple.

“He’s fine, princess.”

He is, of course, and you’re glad to see it for yourself when he comes out of the locker room. A beaming smile adorns his face as he bounds towards the four of you, his curls soaked with sweat and his heavy gear bag thrown over his shoulder. 

“Did you see it?” he asks excitedly.

“See it?” Eddie repeats, eyebrows raising. “Didn’t you hear us?”

“I heard someone,” Luke teases, tugging Eliza’s pink beanie down over her eyes.

She huffs and quickly pushes it back up, giving her big brother one of her signature unamused glares. 

“I’m so proud of you!” You take Luke’s face, flushed from all the exertion, between your hands and press kisses over his sticky-with-dried-sweat face.

“Gross,” Ryan mumbles.

Misinterpreting why Ryan thinks the display of emotion is gross, Eliza turns to her oldest brother with her hands on her hips.

“Kisses not gross!” She hops up and down, making fish lips, like she’s trying to jump up to his level to give him kisses.

“Um, some kisses are gross,” Luke says once you’ve finished. When Eliza looks over at him, Luke’s eyes dart back and forth between you and Eddie. 

“Prepare to be disgusted then,” Eddie says, slipping one arm around your back and pulling your front flush up against his. He grins at you before lowering his head to slot his lips over yours.

“Ugh!” “Ew!” “Stooooop!”

You laugh against Eddie’s mouth, and the two of you break apart, sharing an amused look.

“Alright, goblins,” Eddie says, throwing his arm around your shoulders. “Let’s get going.”

The five of you start moving toward the exit when you tap Luke on the shoulder.

“Where do you want to go to dinner?” you ask him.

“Why does he get to pick?” Eliza whines.

“You can pick when you get a game-winning goal,” Ryan tells her, tugging on a single curly pigtail. Eliza pouts, looking suspiciously identical to her father, and crosses her arms over her chest. 

“Uhh…” Luke muses as your family steps out into the chilly October night. “I want Chinese food. Let’s get Eliza a pu pu platter.”

“Blech!” Your daughter sticks her tongue out and shakes her head. 

“Oh God, she’s going to steal everyone’s noodles again,” Ryan sighs. 

Eliza lets out the evilest giggle you’ve ever heard come from her as you reach the car. 

“I want all the noo-noos!” she declares as she yanks the back door open. 

“I’m ordering rice then,” Luke says as he climbs in behind her.

“Boo!” Eliza calls. 

“These kids are crazy,” Ryan says with a shake of his head.

Eddie laughs and musses up Ryan’s hair. It’s harder now that Ryan is almost as tall as him. 

“Okay, let’s get this hockey celebration on the road,” Eddie says, tapping the roof of the car as he walks around to the driver’s side. 

“Burn rubber, Gretsky,” you say as you slip into the passenger’s seat.

Eddie glances at you before turning the key in the ignition.

“Who?”

“Jesus, Dad,” Ryan sighs.

[mxbenz]

Do you think Soundwave gives birth the traditional sparkling kinda way - or do you think the babies emerge from his chest for the first time after forging them?

alright. alright. XD LOL this is so dumb. my apologies (tw for mechpreg and such)

Soundwave's carrying cycle had been largely uneventful. In fact, most mechs aboard the Nemesis likely wouldn't have even known he was carrying at all, save the slight rounding of his abdomen in his third trimester. There had been fluctuations in his hormonal readings, of course. But those were really only numbers on a scanner. They meant little else to him.

The only real concern was the matter of the Sire.

Megatron and Shockwave, were--of course--both aware that Soundwave had interface with each of them regularly. There was no reason to hide that. Of the two, though, Megatron always seemed to have the more emotional hold-ups about it. But the Decepticon leader was hardly starved for affection. And it had only been a glitch in his regulatory system (thanks to some of Starscream's muddling around in old medical files) that had led to Soundwave allowing his baffles to expire.

It was difficult to tell, without going in and extracting a bit of spark code directly, whose bitlet Soundwave had carried. And, if he were honest (and he usually was), he did not particularly care. A sparkling was a sparkling, regardless of parentage. The fact, though, was that Soundwave's method of emergence would largely be determined by the identity of the sire.

Where Megatron preferred a more physical bond, opting to interface via valve and spike, Shockwave always preferred the much less messy exchange of code via chassis ports. The former, of course, resulted in a much messier emergence, while the latter produced a bitlet that would be perfectly aligned with Soundwave's chassis casing--which would emerge as his casettes always did.

When he had walked into the medbay that day, informing the medic on staff at the time--Bonesaw--that he had entered emergence and would be requiring immediate assistance, he had been fully prepared for either option.

Though, he had not expected both.

"Are you aware there are two, Commander?"

Even behind his ever-composed visor, Soundwave had managed a rare flash of confusion as he stared at Bonesaw with a fair bit of concern.

"Request: Clarify."

"Twins, Commander Soundwave. Well...perhaps not twins. They appear to be housed in separate chambers. Conceived at different times. Potentially..." He trailed off, clearly growing uncomfortable.

"Affirmative: From different Sires."

[valkyrieromanoff]

Hi! How are you? Just wanted to say I absolutely love your writing! ❤️❤️

I have kind of a weird request: I’m a psych student, and I’ve been studying disorders for a test, so now it feels like that’s all I can think about lol. I was wondering if you’d ever consider dipping into the DSM world and writing something about sexual dysfunctions?

No worries if it’s not your vibe—totally get it! Sending love either way 💕

🎀 Premature ejaculation 🎀

words: 923

a/n: Hello, sweetie!🥰 I absolutely adored your request—it really challenged me (in the best way, lol). I did a quick dive into the diagnostic criteria and tried to keep things light and fun 💕.

Hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Had so much fun with this one ✨. Sending you all the love and kisses 😘❤️

Anakin couldn't quite explain how it had happened. One moment he was sitting in the Jedi Temple's dining hall, swallowing that horrible ration that looked more like sawdust, mentally complaining about how the food looked almost— if not worse— than the ones he had eaten as a child on Tatooine.

Then he found himself at the heart of a feast. Your Jedi robes were beneath your beautiful body as you lay on his bed, the bandages you had used to support your chest laying on the floor, your lovely breasts rising and falling with the movement of your breathing, which was accelerating under his eyes.

A mist of disbelief and yearning hazed Anakin's blue eyes. He couldn't believe how fortunate he was to have you so needy and willing for him.

"Kriffing, you're so beautiful," He gently said as he reached out to touch your nude body. Almost as if he was terrified of contaminating such a masterpiece with his humanity, his fingertips sought your smooth skin with care.

The sweet noises that escaped your lips were a magnanimous reward for the young padawan; his groin went crazy when he touched your tummy and your eyes closed, going all the way down to the curvature of your hips.

Your moist folds welcomed him like tongues of fire, warming his whole body as his fingers found your warm embrace. An erection appeared as his blood seemed to boil and pool in his cock.

Your fingertips brushed his trousers so softly that Anakin vowed he wouldn't have noticed if it weren't for the way the force was so filled with you. It was overwhelming; he didn't even have to close his eyes to feel you everywhere, in every way, like the fireplace flames that are constantly there even though their intensity fluctuates.

Squeezing his eyes tight, Anakin tried to concentrate on what he was doing, on how your heat encircled his fingers like a velvet blanket and how your spongy walls held him like fire embers on dry straw, searing everything without mercy or rest.

Not that he wanted to stop; honestly, he had stopped wanting for a long time ago, You were a need; He needed you like the oxygen he breathed, just as plants need the sun to thrive and the oceans need the moon to deliver their tides.

Without you, nothing existed because you were everything. Anakin slid two fingers within you, encouraged by the graceful gasps that poured from your pink lips like divine tunes composed just for him.

He didn't know exactly what he was doing; he had never done anything like this before. Of course, like any teenager with hormones in full swing, especially padawans who are taught from an early age that they should not indulge their carnal desires, he had previously resolved that minor issue in his groin.

Whether it was touching himself in the shower, his hand clutching his cock under the water spray till he felt his release trickle down the drain with the foam, or thrusting his hips against the mattress, grinding his erect cock beneath his Jedi robes.

Anakin had already pictured what it would be like to touch you, to feel your body writhing above him or under him; it didn't matter as long as it was with you; the rest was a mere detail, irrelevant.

Reality, however, was far superior to his most vivid dreams; the way your pussy welcomed his fingers and squeezed them like quicksand caused his eyes to roll with the rush of ecstasy.He could cum right there; Anakin slid with such ease that he let out a low sigh as he twisted his fingers in and out of your moist folds.

As his orgasm struck him like an avalanche, he felt his legs sway, his hips stutter, a flashing white blurring his eyesight, and colorful stars flashing in his head. His brain was a heated, disorganized mass, and it took him a few seconds to process what had happened.

He had cum before he had done anything, without even taking off his clothing, and it was the damp sensation in his pants that jolted him back to reality. Just the sensation of you on his fingertips carried him to paradise, and since he had nothing to cling to, he let himself be pulled along."

"I'm sorry, I, I didn't mean to..." Anakin's blush rose on his neck and spread over his cheeks as he apologized profoundly.He felt so ashamed that he was unable to look you in the eyes. You smiled gently, your eyes holding a compassionate, kind light that made him release the breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

"It's okay, Ani," you assured him softly, your hand cupping his cheek affectionately, the heat of his embarrassment warming your skin. "We can try again if you want."

Anakin was still ashamed; it was an extremely awkward situation, embarrassing. imagine cumming before even having sex properly, in front of the girl he still liked. Kriffing.

Yet, he seemed to feel less insecure and doubtful than before; the warmth in your eyes and the assurance your grin transmitted were plenty.

"I'll be better next time," Anakin assured, his voice low but laced with dedication, confident that he would give you pleasure and transport you to paradise as effortlessly as you had pushed him.

"I know you will," you assured affably,a loving smile spreading over your pink lips. Anakin thought he could get lost as often as you did, and you would always find him.

[ghetto-omega]

‎❀‎✿❀Heat Crash Course❀✿❀

I would like to start this post off by saying don't have sex with your pups... Uhm.. I feel like that should be obvious but just in case U´⁠-⁠﹏⁠-⁠`U ...

I would also like to note that all my info posts are for MY verse in particular, and is not the end all be all, so you don't have to agree with me or you can adopt all my headcanons into your own arsenal

Beware this is a long ass post, like I spent about 4 hours on this for no reason. Smh.

If you notice any typos, no you didn't

With that being said...

‎‧₊˚✿General✿˚₊‧

Heats are generally only experienced by omegas, but there are enough outliers for me to justify mentioning it. For the sake of this post, I will be referring to omegas specifically just because I have the most experiences with omegas with heats. (both being an omega and being friends with omegas)

𑁍 What is heat ?

𑁍 Body's natural instinct to copulate and an almost guaranteed way to produce pups

Indepth: Heats are a part of (most commonly) an omega's cycle. It's the part of the cycle where an omega is the most fertile, the most sensitive (physically and emotionally), and the most vulnerable.

There's a hormonal change in the omegas body. It's essentially the body's way to encourage sex by "setting the mood" lol.

Scent glands also open up more, causing more potent scent and pheromones to attract other partners.

Physical symptoms come not only from hormonal fluctuation, but also the body going into overdrive to protect itself from infection, the body's stress from overworking itself naturally, as well as outside stresses like work and family.

Though if an omega gets too stressed it can cause them to skip their heat entirely, but this is also a very large sign that something is very wrong. Skipping heat too many times (both from something more natural like stress or manmade like heat suppressants) can cause an omega to go into a forced heat, or a self-induced drop.

𑁍 When do omegas enter heat ?

𑁍 Anywhere between 3 days to 2 weeks once every 2 months

Indepth: Every omega that you meet will experience heat in a different way, but typically they last anywhere between three days to two weeks, but the shorter the heat the more intense the symptoms. The average length is about one week, give or take a day, once every one to two months.

The first few days of heat are normally the calmest. A little bit of cramping is to be expected, but overall the omega should still be functional. They may be wearing a collar, cuffs, or extra strength scent patches, but they should overall be fine.

The next days are more unpredictable, there's a widespread of omegas who have the climax of their heat in the middle, but just as many who have it at the end. It's important for omegas to stay on bedrest during this time, not just for their comfort, but their safety.

Omegas with a shorter heat are at a higher risk of entering heat in public, seeing as they don't have the days long of build up that other omegas have. They're also at higher risk of dying during their heats because of how spontaneously they can come and go, this could very well throw their body into shock. Omegas who are malnourished or sleep deprived are also at higher risk of death.

𑁍 Where do omegas prefer to spend their heat ?

𑁍 Omegas typically prefer to spend their heat in their nests, or at the very least with their mate, but there are a few rare outliers to this.

In depth: Omegas will create a safe space out of their packs (or partners) items, could be blankets, clothes, toys, etc. Some omegas do this ritual year round, others only feel the urge to nest during heats. It all depends on the person. Some omegas need a whole space to themselves just for nesting.

Of course, you make due with what you have. In public, if they truly have no other options, an omega might find a small hidden place to go and ride out the worst of it. Even the most docile omega would get aggressive in this situation.

If they end up in the hospital or urgent care both places come equipped with seperate rooms for anyone to ride out their heats OR their ruts. Some people don't have a safe place to go through these things, so they can at least go to the hospital if need be.

Some particularly inclusive clubs or bars may also have one or two small rooms they can keep someone, not like overnight or anything, but for long enough that someone can come get the person in heat/rut.

𑁍 How do heats feel ?

𑁍 Every omega experiences it differently, but typical symptoms are: overheating, brain fog, cramping, excessive slick production, potent pheromones and scents, lethargy, fatigue, and an overwhelming need to be bred.

In depth: for a typical week-ish long heat you'll probably experience a little bit of cramping, but mostly all over body, and pelvic aches that'll slowly get worse until the heat is over.

Omegas with shorter periods or particularly painful ones will be on bed rest their entire heat. Their bodies are flushed with fever, and rocked with brutal cramps. The only thing that can really soothe an omega is a knot, exhaustion, sedative, or a long steady period of being bred. How long their contentedness lasts is really up to the method, and how good of a job their partner is doing at administering said method.

Overly sensitive skin and nose is one of the most common symptoms. Most omegas tend to spend their heats nude and enclosed in their nests because of this. Irritability because of this is also pretty common, try not to hold an omegas mean comments against them around this time.

The worst of the symptoms are flashes of blindness or whited out vision (remember to keep hydrated to help prevent this), temporary amnesia or short term memory loss, inability to move, and hyperactive skin shedding or peeling leaving sore open wounds on the body. These symptoms also aren't common, but can be developed at any time, especially in a high stress environment.

‧₊˚✿First Heats✿˚₊‧

𑁍 In order to avoid unnecessary fear or stress from your pup, it's important to have talked to them about heats and ruts before their first experience

Depending on your pup, in the coming days before the pinnacle of their heat you might experience clinginess, excessive crying, hyper aggression, anxiety, or avoidance (especially of school and anybody not family or a fellow omega)

It's important to watch their temperature, especially if they play sports. It's common for omegas to experience fever or even heat stroke if you don't know what to look for

Look out for more concerns about nesting (especially if they hadn't taken any interest in it before), excessive sweating or thirst, increased or no appetite, lethargy, and extreme mood swings.

Make sure to talk to your pup, as well as take them out of the school for the rest of their heat. Keep carbs and fatty foods on hand to prevent illness, dehydration, and malnourishment

Once at the height of their heat they'll be hypersensitive, so make sure to be weary of a stimulus and watch their body language

Don't be surprised if your pup smells sour to you. They are in a lot of pain right now.

Make sure to lightly scent ONLY the things your pup gives you permission to

The number one rule of helping your pup through heat is to listen to them. It's important not to overstep your pup's boundaries to not cause unnecessary stress.

‧₊˚✿Heat with Packs✿˚₊‧

This really depends on the pack. Some packs act more like polycules, others act more like a platonic family, others are strictly friendly, some are some mix of all three

This all completely depends on your pack's comfortability.

For some this means everyone in the pack helps the omegas out with their heat, some only allow their mate(s) to do it.

Some packs allow the pack members to help out in a way that doesn't involve sex, or maybe they're only allowed to help like that when their mate is away

Some even only allow other omegas to help, and everyone else has to stay out.

This is a completely gray area, whatever you decide is perfect as long as it's a good fit for you and your pack.

‎‧₊˚✿Other✿˚₊‧

There are specific brands that cater to the needs of omegas in heat, there's specifically an abundance of food and drink brands, as well as a few adult toy brands

𑁍 Protection

Collars are a common tool used by all sexes while experiencing intense fluctuation in their scent glands or pheromones. Some prefer the stylish ones that give a little less protection, others prefer just something plain that gets the job done, and some prefer the discreet options that look like they're part of a top or pants

There are covers you can place over a knot to help with lubrication so you don't get locked in your partner, some condoms come with built in ones, but they are the more expensive option

Scent patches are even more common than collars, especially the ones that blend in with the skin. Typically you can find these over the counter at your local drug store, though you can get ones prescribed to you as well

There's more but I've been working on this post for hours... And girl I am SO tired lmao

𑁍 Heat suppressants

Technically heat suppressants could go under protection, but I've decided it needs it's own category

Heat suppressants, while being useful can also be deadly. It's important not to take them more than absolutely necessary

Unlike scent patches these aren't just a patch to put on your body to prevent it from happening

Heat suppressants are administered by pill or by needle, they actually mess with your body's hormones and physiology. They can cause a lot of damage if either used without caution, or bought from an unreliable source

They can cause irregular and painful heat, high blood pressure, infertility, cardiovascular issues, and more.

While fine sparingly, using it too much will cause health problems

I have a giant omegaverse dictionary in the works... It will be finished someday...

I want to make a post full of fake brands that would be in omegaverse if you want to help me with that lol

Ofc, feel free to give me headcanons in the notes or hop into my askbox. I love talking to y'all U⁠^⁠ｪ⁠^⁠U

[baravaggio]

okay definitely a weird question but I don't know of a better person to ask about this: do cis men and cis women smell noticeably different to you?

omg sorry I forgot this was sitting in my inbox, hope this wasn't a time sensitive query lol...anyway the answer is yes of course, a lot of it has to do with hormones (among other things) so it's to be expected

to me cis women have a greater variation in smell though even if the odor isn't as strong, although it could just be because I have a bigger sample set to pull from....like everything from fruity to cumin-ish to oniony to almost boozy. sweeter for sure, especially when they're younger. tbh I don't have anything to back this up (other than I've heard men say this too, although they usually have the sense to stfu about it) but you're really paying attention to scent, you can kind of tell where a familiar woman is in their cycle, not because you're smelling those odors specifically but because the body's scent changes more generally as hormones fluctuate

cis men smell more animalic to me, I feel like "musky" isn't a good enough descriptor because it's such a broad scent category (like women also have "musk" obviously it's just different)...men's is sharper & a bit more wild & pungent, more astringent (grapefruity?), slightly meaty even. caraway seeds & patchouli sometimes. the sensation of smelling it even hits my nose in a different way, especially depending on what phase of my cycle I'm in. fun stuff to notice lol! 🐽🍷

[the1975attheirverybest]

Queen of hearts

Acknowledgements and Disclaimers: this one goes out to all the moms out there. New moms. Experienced moms. Mom-to be. Yall are heroes man. All the love.

Shout out to the mutual who helped answer my pregnancy questions. Thanks for letting me pester you. You know who you are. Any mischaracterizations of pregnancy, labor, or postpartum are completely my own.

Warnings: brief depictions of labor. Mentions of depression. Also not proof read.

***

9 months had flown by like a dream. The whole thing had felt like a movie. And Matty, having made a career out of making life feel like a movie, was wary of the whole thing. Of course they’d had their ups and downs. Worrying over what constitutes a good parent and whether they were going to fuck this child up before it even had a chance to grow up and make its own mistakes. The occasional shock over how powerful and real hormone fluctuations can be. The Braxton Hicks scare. The late night cravings and the crying (some of which was done by him, if he’s being honest). Arguing over baby names, if the kid should be allowed to play football before a certain age lest they get injured. If, being the child of artists meant that the child would be sign up for music and art lessons, or if they would wait and see what the kid naturally gravitates towards. If gender-neutral clothing was inherently boring and lifeless, or, if it was ‘too woke’ to have a baby girl in a car onesie or a baby boy is a butterfly onesie. It was, after all, a pregnancy, not a walk in the park. But he’d loved and welcomed every bit of it. And so had Jo. He’d swelled with joy watching her nest and acquire baby clothes, paint the nursery, and start a vintage stuffie collection. He’d helped her curate a little library of children’s books for kids of all ages, to make sure their baby would be guaranteed a great start, no matter how advanced they turned out to be (Jo and Matty, were, of course, convinced that their child would be a genius). Looking back, even the labor and delivery process seemed perfect.

Jo had screamed at him the whole day.

“We can’t actually go to the hospital just yet. I called. The front desk woman told me to stay put and put on some yoga music.”

Jo had unleashed a string of obscenities upon him that he has chosen to omit from memory ( he remembers them perfectly. She had asked him if he was a demented fucker or if he would like this baby to come out or a teeny tiny hole in his penis instead). He had laughed, told her that she was funny and that he was falling in love with her all over again. She’d thrown the tv remote at his head, missing narrowly.

His gravest mistake, however, was trying to document everything. He’d brought a film camera into the delivery room, which the nurses had balked at. But Matty has been used to being called eccentric so he didn’t care. He wanted to remember every single moment of this day forever. And, when Jo had failed to convince him by making the same arguments that he often proposed at his own shows, for his own fans to put the camera away and just be in the moment, she’d decided to teach him an lesson by choosing not to warn him about the messiness of childbirth. The next thing she heard him say was “oh. So much blood.” Before he’d dropped the godforsaken camera to the floor, smashing it to bits. And ridding everyone of its evils forever.

“Oh my god, she’s here, Jo! I can see her head!” He’d rushed over to her, with tears in his eyes, squeezing her hand. “C’mon, Jo. You’ve got this! One more push.”

“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t. It’s too much. I just- she’s gonna have to stay in there forever.”

“‘fraid we can’t do that, Josephine” the doctor shook her head. “She’s almost out which means it’s tight on her now, if you don’t push, you’re hurting her.”

Jo instantly burst into tears.

“No, no, no! Baby don’t cry!” Matty cooed, then turned towards the doctor. “Why the fuck would you say something like that to her? Right now, as well! are you TRYING to upset my wife right in the middle of the birth of my child?” He hovered over Jo protectively, wiping her sweaty forehead with one of the rags that the nurses had brought in, and kissing her. “You’re okay, Jo. Our baby is going to be okay. Deep breaths, yeah?”

“You promise?” She whispered, too embarrassed for the nurses and doctor to hear.

Matty swears, this, was the moment that he became a dad. Knowing that his wife and child needed him to be the sane and steady one for the first time completely changed him as a person.

Though he had no business making these promises, he’d never felt more certain of anything in his life. “I promise, my love. I’ve got you. And you’ve got our baby. She really needs you right now. So….lets do this, yeah?”

Jo nodded, watching the nurse approach and take her hand to pull her back into position.

“C’mon,love. One more push?” The matronly lady encouraged.

Jo screamed as she gave it her all, Matty’s hand in hers.

“Great! You’re doing great, Josephine! Give me one more push!” The doctor smiled.

“You said that last time! Every single time you say this is gonna be the last push! You’re fuckin lying.”

With tears in her eyes, Jo screamed and cussed out everyone in the room, pushing with all her might, until finally, the baby was out. She heard cheering and congratulations erupt around the room which was her cue to lay back and finally relax.

“Dad, Would you like to do the honors? cut the umbilical cord?” The nurse had asked.

“Oh? I- erm I …should. But I don’t wanna leave you? But also I don’t wanna leave…her- I….” Years later, Matty would realize that it was, in fact, this moment, that had made him into a dad. The moment that he felt conflict between choosing to stay by Jo’s side and hold her hand through what she had just accomplished , or let go of her hand to go meet his daughter instead.

“Go, Matty, go.” Jo had encouraged him, her voice weak from screaming. She nodded as he hesitantly loosened his hold on her hand.

“Let’s fuckin do this!” His shaky hands took the surgical scissors from the doctor and made the cut. “Oh my fuckin god, hiiii” matty cried as he met his daughter for the first time. He almost reached out to take her into his arms but, then, realized that it should be Jo who gets to hold her first.

“Would you like to-“

“Yes, oh god, yes, please?” Jo sat up straight.

Matty, with fresh tears still running down his cheeks, leapt into action adjusting her pillows to support her back as she leaned forward to receive her child.

“Oh god, Matty, look. She’s so….”

“Perfect.”

Everything, about Sophia, from conception to birth, had been perfect. So, it was a complete shock to Matty (and to Jo) when things changed postpartum.

It all started with Jo sleeping in a bit more than usual. At first, Matty had written it off as her body recovering from labor. After all, she’d literally housed, sheltered, and built a human being from scratch for 9 months. She was entitled to a little bit of extra sleep if that’s what she needed. Besides, he saw this as his opportunity to step in. While Jo was pregnant, Matty felt limited in how much help he could be. He flew back and forth in between tour dates to be at doctors appointments, and to help purchase the crib and pick out the nursery colors. He drove across the country to make it to specialty bakeries and shops to fulfill the strange flavor combinations of pregnancy cravings. But none of it was comparable to literally being pregnant. So, it was only fair that he take on some of the work now that the child was born, and let Jo get her rest.

He wanted to be the best dad he possibly could. So, he dove in head first. And he missed the signs. It wasn’t until he was holding Sophia in his arms, looking at Jo, as she laid in bed, saying “it’s a baby, Matty. All it does is cry and sleep. What does it want from me?” That he realized something was deeply wrong. By then, it was too late.

Matty walked around the messy house, eyes blood shot and sore. Whether it was the crying or the lack of sleep, he wasn’t sure. He went into the kitchen, pulling out a massive trash bag and hauling in all the empty takeout containers that had been sitting there all week, shoving them all into the trash bag. He needed to step up his housekeeping game. At this rate, they’ll be living in squalor by the next few days.

He pulled the only clean mug left out of the cupboard and reached for the coffee machine that had been on since this morning, pouring himself a cup.

“Fuckin hell.” He whispered at nothing in particular. What time was it? What day of week or month even was it? He tapped his phone screen for answers. It was a Wednesday in the middle of the month. Just shy of noon. He knew that the best thing he could possibly do for his family right now would be to admit that he’s in over his head. And ask for help.

***

“Where is she now?” Adam asked, stirring the sugar into Matty’s tea before placing the mug in front of him.

“home. Erm….the cleaning service is working on the house. Her mom is there, too, to watch Sophia while she showers and stuff, so….”

Adam nodded, at a loss for words. He squeezed Matty’s shoulder gently.

“What do I do? How do I fix this?” Matty’s eyes darted between Adam and Carly, who wizzed around the kitchen, preparing dinner, with her son at her feet.

“You can’t fix it, mate.” Adam shrugged. Sheepishly.

“I know; I know. But- what do I do?”

Adam simply rubbed his friends back, searching his brain for any words of solace or wisdom.

“Matty, have you eaten anything today?” Carly asked, with her back to him, standing at the stove and stirring something that Matty couldn’t quite see.

He was offended by the question. He’d come to her with the biggest problem he’s ever had to face and her response was to ask if he was hungry? Speechless and indignant, he shook his head. “I have not. No.” He gritted, anger palpable in his voice.

Carly knew better than to take it personally.

***

Carly and Adam exchanged a look. Adam nodded, rising to his feet and taking his child from between his mother’s legs. “C’mon, little man. It’s time for bed. Let’s get into the bath. Give mummy and uncle Matty a bit of time to chat.”

Carly walked over to Matty at the dining table, setting down two huge containers in front of him. “This one’s soup. This one’s chicken and veg. Take them home. Freeze the leftovers and defrost as needed.”

“Carly, I-“

“Comfort food is good. For both of you.” She smiled brightly. “She won’t have an appetite but keep offering it to her anyway.”

“Right.”

“I’m gonna send you a list. Maybe pop into the shops on your way home and buy some of it. Baby cream, nipple pads, stuff like that.”

Matty nodded, dutifully.

“I’ll speak to Patricia and Charli and everybody. We’ll start a rotation. Check in on her and- maybe even send you off to the store a few times. There are just some girl things that she might not have on. Just some bits and bobs to make her life easier.”

“Hmm. Yeah. I suppose.”

“Matty, darling, you know who you need to speak to here. Who she needs to speak to. And it isn’t me, and it isn’t Adam, or George, or Ross, or even a doctor who will rattle off some statistics at her. Why haven’t you done it yet?”

***

Carly was right. Matty knew the person for the job. The reason that he hadn’t called his mom yet was because he was ashamed. Ashamed to admit, in front of her, that he had failed. He’d failed his wife. Failed his kid. Failed to do what he claimed his mother’s struggle had taught him. Failed to be patient, failed to be empathetic. He expected too much from her and he resented her when she wouldn’t rise to it. And he hated that about himself.

But his mom was always there. All he needed to do was call her and say “mum, I need you.”

Denise rushed over.

“Oh, matty, it’s okay.” She placed her hand over his. “It’s different when it’s your partner, isn’t it?”

“Why, though? It shouldn’t be! It’s not like she’s any more or less of a person, a woman, or a mother than you were when you had me!”

Denise rolled her eyes. They both knew Matty was smarter than this. “Yeah, but that doesn’t matter, does it? You were 17 when I told you about my depression. It had been 17 years. You’d seen me differently. And you knew I loved you because you’d felt it your whole life. You were only finding out about that stuff after the fact. This is not the same. Besides, the way that you feel about your partner is not supposed to be like the way that you feel about your mother, or if it is then I haven’t done my job raising you right.”

Matty frowned and licked his lips, searching his brain for a clever comeback.

“You feel like you’ve been abandoned. Like she’s left all the parenting on you and you’re trying your best but she’s not giving you much to work with.” Denise simply stated.

Matty laughed in disbelief. “That’s absurd. She hasn’t abandoned me.”

“Course, she hasn’t. She’s got an illness, she’s not a bad mother. But that’s what it feels like. And that’s okay. You’re allowed to be scared. You’re a new father too. You’ve got no idea what you’re doing and you want to be able to do turn to her but you can’t.”

“I- “ matty turned tongue-tied. Unsure how to respond. It made him uncomfortable to have his unspoken thoughts said out loud for him. “did dad ever…?”

“I don’t know. You’d have to ask him. I didn’t really speak much to him at the time. Sort of….blamed him for it, actually. A part of me felt like, somehow, he had done this to me or something.”

Matty listened, wondering if Jo felt that way about him.

“In fact, why don’t you go do that right now. Call him round. I’ll get upstairs and check on Jo.”

***

Tim left Matty flipping through old photo albums and went to answer the door, smiling wide and proud when he was met with Louis at his brothers doorstep. “You’re joining the crew?”

“You didn’t think you’d have a party without me and I wouldn’t find out about it, did ya?” Louis winked. “Nah, mum called. Said to come to Matty’s instantly.”

“Get in there!” Denise appeared behind them. “And don’t call it a party that’s insensitive.”

She shut the door, beckoning both men to huddle in the corner with her.

“We’re all here for one thing and one thing only.” Denise spoke with the command of a military officer issuing orders . “To watch the baby for the next two days. We work in shifts. Louis, you’re young and still have your back. You’ll take the overnight shift. Tim you start now. I’ll step in between you two.”

The two men exchanged a smile, nodding.

“And if you want to be here off the clock, you are not a houseguest. You don’t just sit sound and expect to be catered to. Consider yourself a contributing member of the household. Roll up your sleeves and see what needs doing around here. Let’s give them some time and room to figure out what Jo needs.”

***

Matty felt his heart shatter into a million pieces inside his chest when he walked into their bedroom and saw Jo, hugging the duvet, with tears in her eyes.

He rushed over to her, but as he reached for her hand, he recalled all the times that he’d tried to initiate any form of physical intimacy over the last few weeks —a hug, a cuddle, a kiss, sex— only for her to turn him down. He pulled away, hesitant, and not wanting to pressure her into anything. He wasn’t sure if these attempts were his way of trying to comfort her or if it was himself who needed the comforting. He would never think that he could possibly understand what she was going through, but, he couldn’t deny that he needed her, too. So much so that he was certain a simple touch from her would bring him to his knees.

“Jo, Darling,” he whispered, “fuck. You have no idea how much I wish I could kiss you right now.“

Jo blushed as if it were the first time that he had ever looked at her that way.

“Your mom- Denise, she…well, she and I talked. I don’t think I’m okay, Matty.”

He sat on the bed, looking at her. She was a shell of the person that he’d fallen in love with. “It’s alright, baby-“

“How can it be alright? I’m a mother! I- I’m a danger to my own child. When I should be her first and fiercest protector!” Jo yelled, sobbing into her own hands.

The sound of her crying was worse than a knife to Matty’s chest.

“Well, it’s a good thing she’s got me, then, isn’t it?” Matty pulled her into his lap, laying her head against him.

“I love her…” Jo tried to convince herself of her own words “ I want to love her.”

“Course, you do, Jo. You’re just not able to feel much of anything right now. Because of what you’re going through. But, we’ll fix it. I promise. We will.” He planted a kiss to her head “I’m sorry, honey. I’m really sorry I let it get this bad.”

“Matty, it’s not your fault-“

“No, it is. I- I thought that I was being a good dad by prioritizing Sophia over you. I thought it was what I was supposed to do. I thought it was what was best for us all.” She felt Matty’s tears dripping down onto her hair. “But it’s you, Jo. You’re what’s best for all three of us. Sophia and I need you. We’re nothing without you.”

Jo wished she had the will or capacity to comfort him, to want to hold her daughter in her arms. She knew it must be difficult on him, and she hated being a source of his pain.

“I’m sorry, Matty-“

“No!” She felt him stiffen. “Don’t. Don’t apologize. You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, you hear me? You’re not alone. Neither are Sophia and I. Look how many people it took to get us to talk” he giggled at the thought. “Look how many people love you and want to support you.”

He saw the beginnings of a smile on her face. “Carly has practically started a catering business trying to feed us. You should see our kitchen. It’s never been this stocked up even when we’re both at home.”

Jo let out a small chuckle, the first since Sophia was born.

To Matty, that small sound was like finding water in the middle of wandering the desert.

***

Matty walked up and down room at the pace that he had discovered was most comfortable for baby Sophia to nap. He rocked her gently in his arms whispering, “you’re gonna be a sweet quiet girl yeah? Look at mommy. She’s so pretty when she’s asleep next to your crib, don’t you think, Soph? You take after her, that’s for certain. Let’s go get mommy a blanket, yeah? Shall we? Look at you! Taking care of mommy already. Bestest baby in the world, you are.”

[catboybiologist]

Hm, so not the same anon as last time, but im interested (for science reasons), can trans women, after some time and with appropriate hormones, produce milk eventualy? Is it the same quantitiea as cis women or not?

Yes. Even cis men, with a relatively small course of non-replacement hormones, can produce a small quantity of milk.

Iirc (which I will verify later) Progestins are upstream of the production of prolactin, which is the primary signalling molecule that signals the mammary glands to produce milk. From what I know, some milk production can theoretically be regulated by fluctuating E levels directly, but this varies a lot.

Prolactin in cis men can cause them to lactate without any other effects of estrogen and progesterone. Progesterone in trans women can absolutely stimulate lactation, but any effect of progesterone requires you to be on E for a while beforehand, since progesterone receptors are regulated by E. Mechanical stimulation also helps, but of course, this varies a LOT, even in cis women.

From what I've heard anecdotally, trans women wanting to breastfeed (or produce milk for any other reason) usually at least kickstart things with prolactin supplements, but can keep it going with mechanical stimulation. Sometimes this can happen just with progesterone or E, though, although the quantity is much, much less.

While the exact extent of the results vary, this is def very well documented, and many trans women parents participate in breastfeeding their babies.

[cts-ryu-writing-desk]

Unsatisfied Evening

I kinda had a particular scene in my head when I wrote this and well it kinda sat on the back burner till I could imagine what could go with it. This was pretty fun to work on! Hope you guys enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a Saturday night. Over at Alpha Rho Sigma house, they were up to their usual antics. Dubbed one of the horniest frats at the college their frat house was usually a den of wild unrestrained sex. While not a den of sexually transmitted diseases there was a problem of male pregnancies. The men would be the house’s “Seahorses”.

Essentially anyone and everyone in the Alpha Rho Sigma house would be allowed to fuck the house's Seahorse. It was the belief and philosophy that “they’re gonna get pregnant anyways so might as well just fuck,”

Through every photo since the house's founding fifty years ago, there was always a handful of their Seahorses front and space tear and already very pregnant. This year's batch had a few of their seahorses who had trouble conceiving. A few of them had a large crowd around them gangbanging them in their usual breeding pit, the basement. That however wasn’t true for Mitch.  After a few sessions, he got pregnant, making him the only pregnant seahorse this year. 

This was his first pregnancy, and his fluctuating hormones were leaving him very very horny tonight. Heavily pregnant Mitch just wanted one good hard dicking to take the edge off his pent-up lust. Even though he’d pop any day now, he was feeling a large amount of discomfort throughout the day. Like they always did during these housewife breeding sessions, they had locked the basement door. Mitch had to make do with the ones left upstairs in the house.

Like with Brent, who had Mitch bent over the couch. Brent wasn’t being aggressive enough. Mitch wanted it hard, he wanted to feel used again. Dripping cum, losing count of his orgasms. But Brent came too quickly and into a condom ruining the mood for Mitch. The discomfort didn't settle. It felt like a bit of a cramp around his entire waist and stomach.

“You’re turn bud,” Brent said.

Mitch looked behind him, spotting Brad. Someone Mitch knew was a good lay. He was always aggressive when they’d fuck before his pregnancy. Brad came over quickly, fully erect and eager to get his Derick wet. Mitch of course could tell this, and he wanted this 

Brad could feel his cock throbbing as he stared at Mitch presenting his ass to his short Dom. That round jock ass the bright and alluring pinkies of Mitch's puckered hole.  Brad's hands were shaking as he grabbed into his tall bottom’s waist. 

"Come on, " Mitch's alluring voice drew Brad in.

Brad lined his cock up with Mitch's puckered hole. Pressing the tip of his cock against that tight jock ass swallowing the tip of Brad's cock whole. Mitch's ass felt warm and tight fitting Brad like a glove. Brad's cock pulsed and flared as he slid balls deep into Mitch's round ass.

"Fuck," Mitch moaned arching his back more. "I..."

Brad moaned "Come on," 

Mitchell started "Let's empty those balls one more time for me."

Brad moaned "You're so fucking tight." 

"Let's hope it stays that way" Mitch moaned backing his hips on Dolon's hard cock. 

With one hand Mitch tried to hold his hanging baby belly in place. Trying to ignore the small discomforting pain. Brad groaned as bucking his hips. He wanted to fuck Mitch harder and faster. Brad could feel he was right on the edge. One good buck and Brad thrust as deep as he could, his balls slapping against the underside of Mitch's ass.

"Come on Daddy, you know I can take it," Mitch kept backing his hips to the rhythm of Brad's thrusts.

The rhythmic rocking swaying of his baby belly each bounce and thrust against Brad's cock. Mitch wanted more. Pushing his bass back onto Brad’s throbbing cock, he could feel Brad flaring up. Brad was going to blow at any moment.

"I'm going to cum, Mitch." Brad couldn't hold back anymore  "Donit Brad. Fill my  ass." Brad went aggressive and wild at the end. Mitch could feel Brad's cock erupt into his ass mid-thrust. Brad moaned as his balls tightened ejecting every last drop into his huge sub. Mitch hadn't felt Brad cum like that in months. The pleasure was so intense Brad was seeing stars in his ecstasy. Mitch threw back his hip one more time, making Brad groan as a few more good spurts left his cock.

Mitch felt Brad pull his half-flaccid cock out all the cum dripping out of Mitch's well fucked hole. Mitch's cock was throbbing. He was crying a good climax in his state. Brad fell to the floor, cock flaccid and dripping a small strand of cum left in him.

Mitch stood up from the couch. One hand holding his baby bump in place. All that bouncing around from the sex made the baby stir inside of him. He could feel Brad's load leading out and sliding down his thighs. This only added to his sexual frustration. Brad might be pretty good at fucking. So Mitch left Brad there and headed down the hall to his room.

Mitch walked through the hallway naked and dripping cum. The other brothers of his fraternity didn’t so much as bat an eye at this. Showing it was a regular occurrence even before his sudden gravid state.

Mitch was already pent up, and the consultant influx of hormones from his pregnancy wasn't helping. He stayed semi-hard the entire walk down the hall. There had to be someone in this house who could get him off.

Mitch came by Trevor and Corey, in a room watching porn. They were jerking buddies, always seen jerking off together or jerking the other off. If nothing else, maybe they'll be willing to jerk him off. Being pregnant had its disadvantages, like not being able to reach it.

They were in the room across from Mitch's dorm room. It was Corey who caught sight of a very horny and very pregnant Mitch. 

“Whoa hey there Mitch, got a minute?” Corey called out

Mitch caught sight of the two of them. Cocks out. It had been a while since he’d seen them like that Trevor was pretty big, while Corey had a bigger head. Mitch could feel his cock twitching. 

“What do you want guys?” Mitch asked

“Maybe we can have some fun?”Corey asked Mitch

“Yeah,” Trevor let out, “your belly is super hot,” Trevor commented

Mitch stood in the doorframe. “Think you two can handle me?”

The two grinned. Corey scooted over. He was patting the bed inviting Mitch in. 

Mitch went over and sat there at the edge of the bed. Trevor stood up rubbing his hand and cock against Mitch’s huge pregnant belly. Corey was jerking off feeling up Mitch’s swollen pecs. Though tender, Mitch always liked having his pecs and nipples played with. Neither could avoid looking at his huge belly. Mitch got a glacé of Trevor's huge cock while he furiously beat his meat.

Trevor was grunting as he jerked himself off his cock brushing up against Mitch's baby belly. Corey got to his feet, leaning over and jerking off while he quickly flicked his tongue over Mitch’s nipple. Mitch could feel his cock twitching heavily. Mitch was so pent up and he desperately needed a good dicking. the way they were going at it he wanted them to go ahead and do it “Oh yeah, fuck my pregnant ass,” he begged in a sensual whisper

Trevor groaned his cock pulses and flared. "Fuck!" He let out as he fired a fat load onto Mitch's belly.  

Mitch tried to keep a stoic face. Trying to hide his disappointment. “Fucking shit!” He raged in his mind

Trevor backed up and Corey came over ready to blow his load on Mitch's pregnant belly. “Fuck that was hot,” Trevor let out coming down from his orgasmic high.

Mitch felt it again the pain was a bit more intense and getting harder to ignore. Corey threw a towel on Mitch's belly, the shafting scent of cum was driving him insane.

“Thanks, I've been edging for hours,” Corey let out

 Mitch whipped away quickly, got up, and left. Ignoring those two. “Fucking hell!” He whined low and angrily leaving their room. 

He’d been through a few guys already. And not a single one of them got him off. There weren't any sex toys in the house. Mitch was getting frustrated. Mitch was ready to give up, he stormed into his room. “God fucking dammit,” groaning and mumbling about the disappointing sex

“There you are,” a voice rang out

Mitch looked, seeing it was Joe. A friend from his pre-pregnancy gym days. “Not now Joe,” Mitch said angrily

“What can I stop by and see my buddy?” Joe asked

“I'm not in the mood,” Mitch relented

“I'm just here to talk bud, I haven't seen you in a while,”

Mitch was standing there, and the pain came again. Mitch just closed his eyes tensed his lips and clenched his fist.

Joe's attitude changed quickly. “What's wrong?”

“It's nothing! God I'm not fragile I'm just fucking knocked up!”

“No one's saying you’re fragile but you're obviously in some kind of pain,”

Mitch stomped his foot down, shouting at Joe, “I AM NOT IN PAIN!!”

Suddenly, splat. He felt it fall out of his ass suddenly and quickly. The pressure waned and the moments after felt like hours. Everything moved in slow motion. Joe was quick to get to his phone.

Mitch looked down as best he could at the floor where his feet might be. He could feel something wet and see a slight puddle. What was this? He wondered in that lengthened moment.

“His water broke!” He could hear Joe say into his phone

“My,” Mitch started to say

He was stopped and the pain came by quickly. It was strong and came far faster than before. He couldn't keep a straight face, his knees wanting to buckle. Joe went to catch him.

Mitch didn't hear a word anyone around him was saying. It all felt dragged out.

It was twenty minutes before an ambulance was there barging through the door. One of the EMTs asked Mitch something. “Huh?”

“How far apart are the contractions?”

“The, con- I dunno, maybe fifteen I dunno,” he felt it surge through him again

“Thirty minutes?” The EMT asked

Joe responded “Umm,”

“Rrrgggh,” Mitch let out

“Less than ten,” Joe replied

“These must've been happening all day,” the EMT commented

Mitch hadn't yet felt the baby drop into his birth canal. The EMT driving radioed in a possibly five to six centimeters dilation. Joe got left behind as Mitch was rushed to hospital. Whatever he needed to say to Mitch would need to wait.

Mitch did his best to endure the pain. Getting to the hospital he was informed of the bad news. He wasn't fully dilated, so they'd need to wait. 

“You're only five centimeters dilated. We need you at ten,” his doctor told him

“How long will that be?” Mitch asked concerned

“It could be hours, we'll just have to wait and see,”

“Hours?” Mitch let out a groan feeling another contraction

The doctor simply acknowledged he was in pain and instructed the nurses to offer him some pain relief as best they could. And try some activities to help him speed up the process along.

Mitch tried waddling around but feeling the contractions he wanted to fall to the floor. They were getting stronger and faster. A sure sign the baby would be here soon. They were still several minutes apart. 

He tried to rest by closing his eyes but it didn't last for very long as the contractions got closer and closer with the hours passing. It was already six hours since Mitch arrived at the hospital. It didn't look to be resolving anytime soon.

Hours later l, He called in the nurse complaining about pressure and an urge to push down in his lower stomach.

“That sounds like baby is ready,” she checked him real quick, “yup little ones starting to come out,”

It was almost over. He just had to push out the baby. He kept trying to remember those lessons from his Lamaze classes. His breathing would be important. His doctor was finally here and ready, it was time to begin.

“Remember to breathe,” the nurse told him demonstrating a quick in and out several times

“Alright everybody, let's deliver a baby,” the doctor told his three assistants

Mitch followed the instructions the doctor gave him. Mitch laid at an angle almost like a squat. His balls were nested in a partial jock to keep them out of the way of the doctor's view of his anus. 

“Alright.” His doctor began to instruct. Give us a nice big push on three, two, one, and push”

Mitch tried to push and he could feel the baby slowly coming out. He stopped to catch his breath. Once he felt good enough to continue he gave them the okay. Again the doctor called out, “Three, two, one, and push!”

Mitch tried to push again. It didn't feel like he was making any progress. Stopping to catch his breath he could hear the nurses say, “Good job, good job,”

Mitch felt like he was struggling. 

This continued for some time. Mitch would push until he caught his breath. After each push, he could feel the baby creeping further and further along. It didn't feel like the baby had gone far at all, but his doctor kept insisting he was going well. It had been over eight hours since his water broke. He couldn't feel his legs anymore. He was seeing stars and was exhausted. 

“You're doing very well young man,” his doctor said

The nurses encouraged him to keep going. With barely any strength left, he tried to push again, the baby was almost there a few more inches. They counted aloud, “Big push in three, two, one, and push!”

Mitch tried to push again. He could feel the baby going the weight pressing against everything as they inched out. Mutch could feel the baby's head getting closer, the weight already pressing on his prostate. Once he stopped pushing he felt the baby slide into place. The head was already crowning, when suddenly he felt the shift as the baby moved forward. The head was now completely out and the weight of his soon-to-be-born baby was crushing his prostate. 

Mitch yelped suddenly. The pressure made his eyes cross and his muscles tense. His limp cock suddenly became half-chub. As it started firing off jets of cum into the air, landing against part of his belly and thigh. The nurses were unphased, one whipped him off with a rag. The doctor so much as proclaimed “he popped, were in the home stretch,”

Mitch had learned this was a possibility. But it didn't make it any less embarrassing. The urge to push and the sudden relaxing euphoria of finally releasing a long pent-up orgasm was a conflicting sensation. His whole lower half was going numb as he continued to try and push.

Getting the shoulders free was the tough part. Mitch had run out of steam and each attempt made him feel weaker. Despite that he finally did manage to free the baby, giving his doctor enough to pull the baby out the rest of the way. Mitch could only tell the feeling of emptiness. His eyes were heavy, closing slowly as the numbness took over. 

He felt something small on him, his arm on his chest. Lazily he cradled one arm around it. Opening his eyes to see a full head of hair on his newborn's head. Mitch wrapped his other arm cradling the baby with a gentle tightness. With delivery over they were here. MItch’s little girl had arrived.

Recovering from delivery Mitch was visited by some of his fraternity brothers. A few of them were arguing over who the father was before they entered the room. Getting in and seeing Mitch lay there exhausted and a cleaned newborn sleeping near him tufts of red hair spilling out from under her pink cap they all knew. 

“BRONSON!” shouted loudly 

His frat brothers had to quickly remind him to be quiet. It was true. Bronson was the father, him being the only redhead in the frat easily narrowed that down. It was almost a day before Mitch could walk again. Getting to hold his fussy daughter. Thinking to himself that, “This is the only kid I'm having,” he thought to himself

Getting back to Alpha Rho Sigma house his brothers threw him a welcome home party. He was going to move next door to the ‘den’ as they called it. It was the house the guys would move into after having their baby. Quite and not as much sex. “We'll miss you Mitch,”

“I'm just going next door,” was his response

Many of his frat brothers would say the same thing during that little party they threw for him. Mitch would just respond the same way to each of them. 

“Wow you look cute with the kid,” Bronson had told him at the party “Definitely DILF material,”

Mitch hid his enjoyment of that compliment and thanked him stoically.

After the party, Mitch moved and a few other guys walked his personal things over to the den. A house literally next door to them. Not a fence being the only degree of separation. 

An enthusiastic pudgy young man welcomed Mitch there. A toddler strapped to his hip and obviously carrying another one. He showed him around real quick, the nursery, sitting room, kitchen, the bathroom - everything was child-proofed so he'd “need to get used to that.”

Mitch saw a room with a little heart on it, when he asked what it was his guide seemed to blush, “That's the hanky panky room. Us daddies need to get the edge off too,”

“Oh,” Mitch responded with nervousness

His guide explained how a few of them were on their second pregnancy already. Mitch didn't quite catch it, looking down at his sleeping daughter. Nervously his thoughts began to lean towards something naughty. Something hard and passionate. If he gave into it, he'd most certainly get pregnant again. Thankfully his lower body was far too tender still to even humor the idea.

[mandos-mind-trick]

The Bandana

Summary: You’re their medic. It’s your job to understand the ins and outs of their abilities in order to best treat them when they’re injured. Of course, you can also use that knowledge in other ways. 

Pairing: Hunter x reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, teasing, oral, edging, orgasm denial, kind of public sex (it's like half a second), inaccurate medical stuff, reader and her praise kink once more, Hunter's a bit of a dom, light bondage, use of Hunter's bandana.

A/N: It's gross. It's filthy. It's Hunter. None of the medic!reader fics are really related. I know that's kind of a theme lately and I wanted to throw that out there. It's just easiest making the reader a medic, and a couple of them are ideas from a scrapped Bad Batch x medic!reader fic I was working on for a minute. You can read them as being related if you'd like, but that's not really necessary. If you need me, I'll be back in horny jail.

MASTERLIST

Hunter’s abilities are fascinating.

Not that the others’ weren’t, but Hunter’s were the most interesting from a medic’s point of view. He could sense even the most subtle changes within the human body. He could sense a change in someone’s heart by feeling the change in electrical impulses that cause the heart to beat. Even more simply, he could hear someone’s heartbeat if they’re standing close enough. Not only that, the more time he spent around someone, he could smell even the simplest changes in their body. An infection, hormone fluctuations, any sort of dysfunction he could tell almost immediately. 

It had been jarring at first, but he had assured you he didn’t purposefully try to listen in on certain things. He had gotten good at blocking most of it out. He’s very in tune with his squad, in tune enough he usually only notices when there’s something wrong. Not that there usually was, among the perfected specimens of the clones. 

That’s what led you to developing this game. 

You spend a lot of time alone on the Marauder while the boys are in the field. It was what led to you developing an experiment, which quickly became a game. 

Just how crazy can you drive Hunter with your scent? 

Your illicit relationship with the Sergeant hadn’t taken long to develop. After all, who were you to deny when such a fine specimen was offering? He had admitted to being able to smell your arousal, and as soon as your pants were around your ankles, he had buried his face in your pussy and inhaled like he’d been starved for oxygen. 

He’d stolen your panties after that brief foray in the fresher. 

That led you to this experiment. 

You started simple. You’d let yourself get aroused, then you’d leave your panties somewhere only he’d find. Under his pillow in the barracks, in his knife stash, even once dropped into his helmet while he wasn’t wearing it. 

Not long after he’d find them, you’d both disappear for a few minutes so he could fuck you into oblivion for teasing him. 

Then you got bolder. You’d slip a hand into your pants while they were away, coating your fingers in your slick before touching areas of the ship you knew he frequented. Then you started touching things of his. Pieces of his armor, his spare blacks, the wall of his bunk in their barracks, the inside of his helmet, even once bravely letting your fingers brush the hilt of his knife. 

It was less obvious than your panties, and most of the time he figured it out. It was hard on such a small ship to find ways to slip aside, to find a private moment to fuck each other’s brains out. 

You took advantage of shore leave more than anything. The others know you don’t disappear together to do a medical exam. Of course, that was the excuse if anyone ever noticed outside of the squad. It was your job to be thorough, but you don’t think GAR officials or the Kaminoans would consider Hunter’s cock in your mouth a necessary medical test. 

They would blanche at the things you do with the Bad Batch’s Sergeant behind closed doors. 

You’re excited for this shore leave, already having planned your next move to tease your Sergeant. It’s risky, and going to require perfect timing, but you’re well prepared. You’ve thought all this through perfectly. 

The barracks smell as they always do. Despite your best efforts to keep things clean, the stench still manages to linger. You wonder if all the barracks smell this bad, but you’re not about to take that chance. At least you had an excuse for being in the Batch’s barracks. 

They all disperse, going about their normal routines. You settle yourself on the couch, your normal perching spot, and begin to enact your plan. You watch Hunter, the way his body moves, his muscles shifting under his blacks as he removes each piece of armor. Your eyes trail his form from those wide shoulders to his slim waist, then further down to his thick thighs. Heat begins to pool in your stomach as you think about him and just what that body is capable of. 

You drop your gaze to your pack as he turns to look at you, obviously beginning to sense the change in your body. You’re starting to get wet, thighs pressing together for friction as you pretend to go through your med kit.

Hunter leaves to take a shower, and you make your move while the others are distracted. You slip your hand into your panties, gathering some slick on your fingers before grabbing one of Hunter’s spare bandanas. You make sure to rub your fingers all over it, trading it out for the old one sitting on his bunk. It’s not that unusual for you to grab their dirty clothes to add to your bag of things you need to wash. 

None of them blink twice as you toss his old bandana onto the pile. You sink back onto the couch, continuing to go through your med kit like nothing had just happened. 

“We’re gonna get some food, you coming?” Wrecker asks, breaking the comfortable quiet of the barracks. 

“I’ll meet you there. I need to put in an order for some supplies.” You say, sending a wink his way. 

“Right.” Crosshair drolls, lips lifting in a smirk. “Have fun with that.” 

Wrecker looks between you utterly confused as Crosshair practically drags him from the barracks. Tech follows, electing to ignore your exchange with his face buried in his datapad. 

You really do need to get some more supplies. You get up, moving to the crates stacked next to the big windows. It’s dark and raining outside, as it usually is on Kamino. It’s silent in the barracks, the unnerving quiet making the hairs on the back of your neck stand straight. 

A body presses into you from behind, pinning you against the glass window. It hadn’t taken him long to discover your little gift. 

“You’re playing a dangerous game mesh’la.” He growls in your ear, voice low and rough. You can feel the hard bulge of his cock against your ass. 

“I don’t hear any complaining.” You gasp, his hands grabbing yours, tugging your wrists behind your back. 

A smooth cord wraps around them, one of Tech’s spare cables he had lying around. You tug at the knot, secure but not too tight. He turns you around, pushing you towards the table. He bends you over it, pressing your top half flat against it. You bite your lip, anxious for what he’s going to do next. 

He tugs your pants down around your ankles, exposing your underwear to him. He can see the wet spot, the fabric sticking to your pussy from how wet it is. He groans quietly, the scent of your arousal hitting him like a wall. 

He presses his nose against your underwear, breathing in the scent of your arousal. “So sweet.” He groans, lapping at the fabric. 

You moan, more and more arousal pooling in your stomach, soaking your panties. He nips at you through the fabric, drawing a louder moan from your lips. 

“Quiet.” He commands. “We don’t want anyone to hear you.” 

You bite your lip harder, trying to keep the volume down as he moves your panties to the side, dragging his nose through your folds. His tongue follows, tracing a line from your clit to your hole. You let out another moan, hips jerking at the feel of his warm tongue on you. 

He tsks, standing back up. “Can’t do what you’re told? Here, let me help you.” 

He grabs your jaw, prying your mouth open. He balls up a familiar red fabric in his hands before stuffing it in your mouth. You let out a quiet sound, muffled by the fabric of his bandana. 

“Maybe that will help you be quiet.” He says, kneeling back down between your legs. 

He slips his fingers under the gusset of your panties, pulling them taught against your pussy. He drags them through your wetness a couple times before tugging them down your legs. He tosses them towards his bunk, the sound of them hitting the floor audible in the quiet barracks. Your cheeks heat up at the knowledge that you’re that turned on by him. 

And he’s barely touched you. 

His hands grip your thighs, tugging your legs apart until you’re on your toes to keep steady. His hands move to your ass, using his thumbs to part your lips. You can feel his gaze on your dripping pussy, your hips shifting in his hold in anticipation. 

His tongue is warm as it prods at your hole, ignoring your clit entirely. You whine in betrayal, pulling at your restraints as he presses his tongue into your pussy. You moan at the feeling of him, his tongue tasting you directly from the source. He moans against your pussy, slurping at your wetness as it spills from you onto his tongue. 

You can’t cum like this alone. You know it and he knows it. He’s doing it on purpose, revenge for all of the times you’ve teased him in the worst way possible. You whine, trying to press your hips back against his face but he holds you still. He’s not going to relent, not until you’re desperate.

You whine his name from behind the bandana, inaudible from the fabric. He ignores you, continuing to eat your pussy like a man starved. You squeeze around his tongue, trying to seek any extra sensation you can. You’re so close. One tiny touch to your clit would send you over the edge, but he’s not going to give you that.

Not yet. 

He pulls away from your pussy, licking his lips. He stands up, pressing his hips against your ass. His blacks are rough against your skin, and you can feel how hard he is through the fabric. He leans his body over yours, dragging his hips against your pussy. 

“Think you can tease me like that?” He growls in your ear. “Spreading your scent over everything. Drives me crazy.” 

You sob behind his bandana, trying to grind against him, against the table, anything for some relief, but he’s keeping you pinned with his body. 

“Desperate little thing, aren’t you. You want to cum, huh?” He moves his head so he can see your face. “Do you think you deserve to cum?” 

You nod, trying to plead with him, but only muffled sounds come out. 

“What’s that?” He tilts his head. “I can’t seem to understand you. Guess you don’t think you deserve it.” 

You let out a cry as he moves off of you, kneeling back between your thighs. Tears gather in your eyes as he swirls his tongue around your pussy before slipping it back inside. You clamp down desperately against his tongue, seeking out any sort of relief for the ache in your pussy. 

You’re soaked, coating his face as he continues to fuck you with his tongue. Your legs are shaking with the effort of holding yourself up, tears sliding down your cheeks as you moan and cry through the bandana. 

Hunter pulls away from your pussy, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. “You’re a good girl. Always such a good girl for me, even if you are a tease.” 

You make a quiet noise, the table starting to get wet under your face from sweat and your tears. 

“That was a good one, spreading your scent on my bandana. I’m going to remember that.” He kisses closer to your pussy. “You’re such a smart little thing. Always so good for me. I’ll let you cum, just for that.” 

You practically sob with relief, his tongue pushing into your pussy once more. The rough pad of his thumb brushes your clit, sending you hurtling over the edge. Your legs shake, back arching into him as you soak his face, his tongue lapping up every last bit of your cum. He works you through your orgasm, licking up every last bit of your cum. 

He releases the cord around your wrists with a flick of his fingers as he stands to remove his bandana from your mouth. He eases you onto your back, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “Always so good for me.” He says, stroking your face lovingly. 

You practically purr under his touch, leaning into his hands. “Only for you.” 

His eyes darken a bit, the very obvious bulge in his pants pressed up against your pussy. “Think you can take me before the others get back?” 

You nod, using every bit of energy you have to lift your feet onto the edge of the table, spreading yourself out for him. “Easily, Sergeant.” 

You only hope the others take their time getting their dinner. 

Taglist:

@kaminocasey, @rosechi, @mxkyrie, @bobaprint @star-trekker-0013, @padawancat97, @bamfahsoka, @rain-on-kamino, @annoyinglylegendarygoose

[tommykinard6]

I like playing around with a/b/o dynamics a lot and I've had this idea for an omeaverse I think fits Alpha Buck so well. So omegas heats happen on a hormonal cycle-it can fluctuate a little and stress and illness can impact it- but mostly its fairly regular and predictable. Alphas only fall into rut around an in heat omega, so it's unpredictable. A rutting Alpha can be dangerous and even a mated Alpha is susceptible to rut from a strange omega, so to prevent their Alphas from unwittingly mating additional omegas (without permission) it's common for omegas to lock their Alphas in chastity and hold the key when out in public. It might be a little outdated with all the modern suppressants but Buck really really likes the physical reminder of who his knot belongs to. (Eddie and/or Tommy).

Like Eddie would feel a little guilty for wanting something so traditional, but he was surprised at the way Buck lit up when he suggested it. Tommy wouldn't even think to bring it up- he doesn't care much either way but then Buck blushes and stammers when he mentions he'd like to go off suppressents and dances around what he really wants to say and suddenly it's all Tommy can think about.

Course once they're at home and the cage comes off, Buck goes full Alpha on his very willing and happy omegas.

(Let's also pretend this world has cock cage technology that would be safe for a firefighter to wear one at work)

I’ll be honest with you nonnie, I’m not into this idea personally. Mostly just because I’m rarely into chastity (very specifically and def not on Buck).

However! I’m putting this out there for anyone who might like it! Thanks for the submission nonnie!!

[froggyed]

What's ur story? How did u end up like this? (No hate BTW just don't know many other ED mfs and curious)

Hi! No offense taken, and thanks for visiting!

I'm 22 years old and my ED started in 4th grade. My first ED meal was a homemade blackberry jam on half a slice of toast because I was scared of the sugar in jam, lol!!

During that same year, I was diagnosed with a condition called Graves' Disease. It's an autoimmune condition that attacks your thyroid which is responsible for regulating your metabolism. Graves disease causes your metabolism to be hyperactive, and that's why I was so underweight as a kid.

Frequent hospital visits made me hyperaware of my weights because of the many weigh-ins and talks about me needing to gain more weight. But on the other hand, I would overhear strangers telling my mom how tiny and delicate I was.

Once medication started, I began gaining weight.

7th grade, I found MyPr04n4 (self-explanatory) and I was a regular for about 3 years. This website brought me so much comfort in the worst way, haha.

In 9th grade, I reached triple digits for the first time and it was really scary! On one hand, I was happy because my doctor said it was healthy, but on the otherhand, I wasn't as small anymore. Then, I realized I wasn't the smallest person in the room. I had a toxic relationship where they told that I needed to lose weight even though I had a BMI of 18.8. We broke up and I had a healing stage and continued gaining weight.

10th grade, my medication stopped working and I was rapidly losing weight. I probably lost 25 lb in 3 weeks. I didn't really notice, but just thought that my jeans made me look really good. I was put on a higher dose and then gained the weight back and more until I had a BMI of 24.5. It was really uncomfortable because a lot of people would make fun of me for changing so much.

My thyroid was removed in 11th grade, and I've been taking a synthetic hormone to replace the thyroid hormones. I need to take it consistently otherwise I my metabolism goes kapoot.

I was formally diagnosed with disordered eating at 18 and have been fluctuating in my mental state since then!

2022 was particularly rough, because I was taking food-related courses and it made me feel terrible.

That's my story. Thanks for asking! :))

[hystericminitotebag]

You know, now that I’m actually thinking about it

What if men killing themselves so much is a hormonal thing? Because testosterone naturally fluctuates daily, so men get their highest bursts of testosterone early in the morning and some other time (I forget because I don’t care), but women experience hormonal fluctuations over the course of a month (or however long your cycle may be). So I’m wondering if because women are used to wanting to kill ourselves for like a week out of every month but have an understanding that it’s just hormonal fluctuations making us feel this way so we don’t, since men are seldomly experiencing prolonged hormonal fluctuations that come with typically negative emotional side-effects, whenever they’re going through something they don’t already have this mentality of “these feelings will pass” so they kill themselves.

[theshadowrealmitself]

I've headcanoned for years that pon-farr-based prostitution on Vulcan has got to be basically a medical science. Like, oh, you need to temporarily bond and mate with someone so you don't die? That's medicine, baby! The doc diagnoses your transient fits of rage as the oncoming fever and says "You are experiencing a normal hormonal fluctuation. I am transferring you to our colleagues in the P.F. Dept. who will help you through these trying times. Please allow them to help you select a compatible associate and utilize their services. Follow up with me if the symptoms do not resolve in the usual manner." That's just logical!

Of course, for anyone who will only accept their partner but can't be with their partner for any reason (distance, death, etc) they can always do like Tuvok (from Voyager) who utilized a holographic recreation of his wife, since he refused anyone else's assistance. Apparently that worked out swell for him, so it must be an effective fix.

I think the main problem with that is: how important is it that they have a bond? Tuvok was okay with only using a hologram, but his bond wasn’t severed or anything like that (at least to my knowledge)

And if it’s absolutely important to surviving, then what effects would it have on medical staff to bond and then sever those bonds repeatedly to help people through pon farr?

Also I think there’d be the issue of Vulcans feeling shame over losing control, so maybe they don’t care about being medically helped through intercourse and maybe even being bonded or not isn’t an actual concern, but having to make it to a medical building and be seen by strangers in such an emotionally vulnerable position? If there was a setup like that, a majority of the Vulcans would probably still avoid it

I think what you’re describing is something that would be ideal for Vulcans, and something they wish they could have, and it’s probably what a lot of non-Vulcans would assume they have if they heard about Vulcans having a mating season that could kill them, but due to other factors (bonding and the shame and secrecy involved in pon farr) it’s not something that could actually exist in reality

Editing to add: I hope this doesn’t come off as dismissive or insulting to your headcanon!! This is just my 2 cents on if I could see that being a reality!!

[vasilissadragomir]

GIRL! What you mean you also writing about katniss's period in your fanfic too. Please tell me more about it, I'd love to know!

LMAO okay sooooo without spoiling too much i just think that it’s very important for katniss to experience her body operating as normal for literally the first time in her life. even before the games/the incomprehensibly stressful circumstances of catching fire/the war she was malnourished. perhaps not as badly as most others in the seam, or even in the town bc it seems meat was hard to come by even for peacekeepers and merchants, but she absolutely was underfed and lacking essential nutrients. so even if she was getting a period, like you said, it most certainly wasn’t quite normal or regular.

but periods aren’t just about actual bleeding or physical symptoms, ofc. her body likely never experienced the full breadth of hormonal fluctuation people go through during a healthy menstrual cycle. we know katniss is often moody and irritable because a) she’s a teenager b) she’s starving and c) she’s stressed out of her mind in constant survival mode, but she’s almost always in control. what happens when her hormones, allowed to function for the first time as they’re meant to, take control of her body like they do for most teenagers w periods? especially with all the emotional upheaval of the war and losing prim, i bet experiencing pms for the first time sends her into a tailspin. she’s probably crying a lot, eating a lot, and feels like everything is coming apart around her at the littlest things. which, compounded with the ptsd and grief, and the first time lack of need to be in survival mode, is overwhelming and causes her to act impulsively.

not to mention, of course, why we get periods in the first place. how does peeta’a presence interact with her body’s discovery of its normal function, especially this function? we know they grow back together. we know she feels that thing again. we know so after. but what happens between those things? it’s implied that katniss and peeta are at least kissing before so after. what is it that motivates katniss to kiss him back, beyond, of course, love? katniss likes kissing. she says when she’s kissing gale that it reminds her that her body’s alive. what is it like for her to kiss the person she actually loves when her body is healthy enough to urge her on?

now, of course katniss knows about periods, their symptoms, and sex/pregnancy. a pet peeve i have in fics is when people act like katniss doesn’t know about this stuff because she’s “pure” or, frankly, because readers see district 12 as backwards and uneducated or something. but katniss’ mom is an apothecary. katniss absolutely knows the clinical ins and outs of puberty. but at the same time, i bet she never really expected all that stuff to happen to *her* the way it does to other people. she’s always been in control while in district 12 up until the end of the war. why would something like a hormonal shake-up change that? i don’t think she’ll recognize what’s happening to her (im shocked by it every month, and ive had a semi-regular period for more of my life than not and i knew what to expect from like age 5). when she does realize it, she’ll likely be in denial about it.

i also think this is a great opportunity for katniss and her mom to bond and begin to repair their relationship. because for the first time, katniss actually will, palpably, *need* her mom and her expertise in a way she hasn’t in over five years.