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absurdthirst · 1 year ago

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Kinktober 2023: October 15th

Day 15: Boot Worship, Spanking/Flogging/Whipping/Caning, Lactation/Breastfeeding

Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Post-pregnancy, lactating, pumping, breastfeeding kink, paying to drink breast milk, drinking milk, breast play, grinding, frottage, cumming in pants

|| Kinktober List || MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

There are some perks to being Dieter Bravo’s assistant. As crazy as he can be and put you through stress and odd situations, he is a fairly lenient boss. When you had come to him, explaining that you wished to be a surrogate for your sister who was unable to carry a child, he was cool with it.

Did it stop the 2AM calls because he couldn’t find his favored crocs, or didn’t remember the name of that 24-hr Mexican restaurant? No. But he let you take off for all the doctor’s appointments without too much complaint, stopped doing drugs around you since it was bad for the baby, and insisted that you have a chair on set next to his to sit down in at all times. In actuality, it was pretty sweet.

You had planned on coming back to work right away, since the baby was immediately going to your sister from the delivery room, but Dieter had pitched a fit. Telling you that even though you didn’t have a newborn to take care of, you still needed to recover from giving birth. You had compromised, telling him that you could recover and still manage his calendar from his admittedly comfortable couch.

You hadn’t expected the questions. Dieter is one of those enigmatic souls that there is no telling what will pique his curiosity, but you hadn’t expected it to be your breast pump. Your sister and you decided that you would pump your milk for at least the first few months, or as long as you could.

Dieter was obsessed. Like a kid with a new toy, you found him playing with the pumps. There were two that you could wear inside your nursing bra to let you pump while you just went about your day. Removing them and draining them into the storage bags as needed and putting them right back on.

He was staring at your breasts, frowning slightly as he looked away and then looked back at them. As if he was figuring something out. Until you realized he was trying to decide if you had the pumps on or not. He kept muttering to himself, shaking his head and walking out of the room abruptly. You would think that he was on drugs again, except you haven’t ordered any from his regular supplier in nearly two months.

So it’s a complete surprise when you are sitting on the couch, nearly two months after you have given birth and settled back into your routines with Dieter that he plops down on the sofa beside you. “How much would I need to pay you to drink your milk?”

Freezing, your jaw hits the ground in shock. Immediately flustered and wondering what the hell is he talking about. Drinking your milk? He wants to taste it? Pour it into his cereal? What?

“Dee, what? What the fuck are you-”

“I can’t stop thinking about it.” He groans, shuffling closer and staring at you with wide, pleading eyes before his gaze drops down to your breasts and he groans. His hand moves down to his crotch, almost covering himself like he’s trying to hide something before he grabs a pillow and shoves it in his lap. “Please, I - fuck, I’ll give you a thousand dollars. Give me….two ounces.”

“Dieter…”

“Two, all I’m asking for is two. The baby can spare that, right? You’ve been pumping like 80 ounces a day, right? Around that?” His tone is slightly whiny, begging like he always does when he really, really wants something.

It shocks you that he’s aware of how many ounces of breastmilk you are pumping. That means that he’s got to be looking in the freezer. You’ve been storing it here since you are here more than your own house and having it sent over to your sister’s.

“You want to buy two ounces of my breast milk to drink?” You ask, wanting to make sure you understand what the fuck your boss is asking you. “For a thousand dollars.”

“Two, two thousand.” Dieter ups the price, biting his lip and swallowing harshly. “A thousand dollars an ounce. Please, I know it’s weird, I know that I shouldn’t ask, but please, please just let me have some.”

His eyes are earnest, begging you. Almost more intense than the first time he has if you would have sex with him. Finally finding something he wants more than sex.

“I don’t know…”

“I can’t stop thinking about it.” He rushes out, his face twisted in embarrassment but Dieter has no shame when there is something that he wants. He’s willing to humiliate himself as long as self-gratification for whatever he is obsessing over happens. “Drinking it, sipping it. Swallowing it down. Knowing that it is supposed to feed me. Feed a baby, I mean. It’s natural. The most natural food a man can have.” He justifies it, always good at finding reasons for why he needs to have what he wants. “It fucking- fuck, baby, it fucking turns me on. The idea of drinking your milk.”

You can tell he wasn’t supposed to say that. From the way he immediately snaps his mouth shut and recoils from you, like you are going to reach out and slap him. Maybe you should slap him. It’s a slappable offense, but you aren’t.

“Two thousand dollars, for a chance to drink two ounces of milk?” You don’t dismiss the idea, or slap him and that makes Dieter perk up. Immediately nodding, making his disheveled hair wave eagerly.

“Yeah. Please?” He begs again. “I promise I won’t ask you to sleep with me again or go get my coffee. Ohhhh your milk in coffee.” You watch as he rolls his eyes back in his head at the thought, the pillow being crammed against his lap even more and you huff.

“How many times have you jerked off thinking about drinking my milk, Dee?” You demand, making your boss nearly cringe at the question.

Ducking his head and turning a range of mottled reds in mortification, he mumbles too quietly for you to hear. “- times a day.”

“What?”

He mumbles again. “-day.”

“I can’t hear you.”

“Seven or eight times a day!” Dieter finally shouts, grabbing the pillow from his lap and shoving it over his face to scream into it while your brows shoot up in surprise. You know Dieter has a high sex drive, but you never imagined he could go that many times.

While he is having his fit, you think about it for a moment. It’s two thousand dollars and you’d rather your boss ask you to drink your milk than some random pregnant lady on the street. You wouldn’t put it past him. Despite his tendencies, Dieter is actually pretty respectful. He doesn’t push when he’s rejected and if you say no, you know that he will be disappointed but he won’t get angry.

You aren’t wearing the pumps, thank goodness, so it’s easy to manage when you pull away the pillow from your boss's face and straddle his thighs, putting your milk filled tits in his face.

“I- what are you-” Dieter chokes out, eyes wide and fixed on the tops of your tits, wanting to touch you but this wasn’t what he asked for.

“You don’t want to drink straight from the source?” You ask innocently.

The fact that you are on his lap makes you fully aware that Dieter’s cock is hard. Letting you feel the way that it jumps when you ask if he wants to drink from you. Not hiding his love of the idea even a little bit.

He groans, tearing his eyes away from your breasts to look up into your eyes. “Yeah? Really?” He asks, still not touching you, but his hands are hovering over your hips, wanting to settle on them. “I- you would let me do that?”

“You can’t squeeze them.” You caution. “They are tender, and sore a lot of the time. But if you want to, you can nurse, suck the milk from my tits and drink it down.” It was good timing, because you were going to have to pump anyway.

“But I-” He seems to be completely stumped as to why you would offer more. No one ever offers more when he is desperate enough to pay for what he wants. “I’ll be careful.” He promises, leaning forward to nuzzle into your bosom and inhale the slightly milky scent of your skin.

You feel the way he twitched under you. That admittedly impressive cock throbbing against your core in a way that you hadn’t thought about before this moment. He’s hard because of you. Because of this infatuation with your tits, your milk.

Those hands that you had worried would be carelessly eager are almost timid. Asking if he can take off your shirt, or if you would prefer to just lower your shirt. You explain that it feels better to just lower your shirt and he quickly agrees. His fingers almost worshipful as he gently pulls your breasts out, taking your warning to heart as he positions them in his face and gets his first good look at your hard nipples and burgeoning jugs.

“Oh god. I just want to…” he lunges forward and snuggles his face between the breasts he is holding almost reverently. Nearly motorboating you but just breathing deep. “Fuuuuuuuck.” He hisses, throbbing even more underneath you and you swear that you feel a bit of wetness transfer from his sweats to your leggings.

You wrap your arms around him, for stability, for a lack of places to hold onto him, bringing him closer and you feel him sigh into your skin. As if he has found a place he wants to stay.

It’s not too long before he wants more. His lips move along your skin in a surprisingly romantic scattering of kisses, as if you were his lover.

His arms slowly slide around you as he kisses around your nipple, tilting his head down, and he groans when the warm, wetness of his lips wrap around a hard nipple to pull it into his mouth.

Dieter’s hips rock up, grinding up into yoh and he twitches harshly when he tugs on the nipple, letting the first spurt of milk hit his tongue. His groan is so loud, almost pained, it covers the gasp that you give at the sensation.

It’s so different from the pump. Warmer, wetter. More intense as he starts to suckle eagerly. Gulping down mouthfuls of milk as fast as he can while dragging you closer, making you grind down on his cock from the movement.

You get lost in the feeling of it all. His cock hard and throbbing under you. Pressing against your sensitive clit as your hips rock. The subtly erotic sensation of his whiskers against your skin. Eagerly letting him switch from breast to breast as he drinks you down.

Dieter drinks more than two ounces, far more than you had agreed on, but neither one of you pulls away, even trying to stop. He’s gorging himself on the warm, slightly sweet milk in great, greedy gulps, groaning as he swallows.

You don’t realize you are about to cum until you do. Stiffening in his arms, you push your breast into his mouth more as your back arches, a harsh cry escaping your lips. Pleasure washing over you in waves, and you don’t realize that Dieter is moaning your name. Rocking his hips up harshly to keep the friction going until he’s throbbing against your core. The warmth of his cum coating the inside of his sweats as he cums in his pants, drunk off your breast milk.

“Holy shit.” You pant as he pulls away, milk drunk and softening underneath you as he swallows one last time.

“Fuck, baby.” He groans. “Can we do this again tomorrow?”

#pedro pascal #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #absurdthirst kinktober #dieter bravo #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo smut #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo imagine

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justsescape · 6 months ago

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"Where are the pumps, anon?! It's been over five minutes and the milk is going to burst out any second!"

Asuka’s presence in the living room inspired – nay, forced – a bit of creative remodeling. The coffee table, the television, the game consoles, the decorative plants; just about everything was shunted into your bedroom until it resembled a packed storage unit. Ironically, her overdeveloped breasts could fill one up as well. Maybe two.

“Hmph, what a moron… always losing the most important things…”

While your hurried search through various kitchen cabinets continued, Asuka let her arms spread out across the back of the couch like she was lounging in the summer sun. Her boobs, evidently, were just as carefree. To say they resembled beanbag chairs was to describe their texture and heft, but it was to vastly undersell their sheer size. There was a reason you had to move everything out of that room: you could practically hide a car underneath just a single one of her massive, massive tits. In fact, if she were to stand up and lose her footing, she could fall into her own cleavage and get swallowed up entirely like she stumbled into quicksand.

“And don’t complain about not being able to find my nipples again,” Asuka scowled, pointing a finger in your direction. She was only visible from the shoulders up; the rest of her was obscured by her gigantic bust like she was underneath a down comforter. “Just pick up the ends of my chest with a shovel and they’re right there, rubbing up against the damn carpet. Which you should do something about, by the way. It’s so uncomfortable against my skin! Why haven’t you done something about it already?!”

Your eyebrow twitched. Need you remind her of why she was here in the first place? Sightings of her being lifted by crane, or with her garage-wide bust stuck in the sliding double-doors at the local grocery outlet – such incidents racked up bills like you were intending to compete with the national debt. Not to mention the attention it drew. “She’s so big she can’t walk without her wheelbarrows,” one would bystander would say to another. “Do you think she sleeps on them like they’re a mattress?” Any attempt at a public appearance was met with this kind of commentary. And she has had more than enough of the “hyper hourglass” comparisons since she started attending college. It was more like her body was a cyclone: dangerous for most, a force of nature that walloped against buckling support beams and swung like wrecking balls, but always attracting a few foolhardy stormchasers.

Perhaps she’d be nicer if she was reminded of the privilege of being housed in privacy. Finally returning with the pump's accessories, however, did not inspire this sort of kindness.

"It's about damn time," Asuka said, her venomous tongue whipping up often enough to start a cyclone of its own. "Don’t you care about the floor in your own apartment? One day you’re going to be too slow and I’m going to leak all over it!”

Circumnavigating her chest – which required you to slide against the wall like a stealthy video game character – you eventually found yourself at the opposite end of the room. Staring down at Asuka was like being on the opposite end of a long dining table in a fancy castle. Except, instead of such a table, only her quaking boobs spanned the gulf between the two of you.

"St-stop looking at me and get to work, dummkopf!" Asuka crossed her arms over herself as if such a maneuver could still hide her chest. "I can feel it starting down there! Hurry up and find my nipples!"

You dragged towels across the carpet like you were a beaver dragging piles of wood in front of a lake. A shovel wasn't needed; you just handled her breasts by hand, letting her gelatinous flesh bulge and squeeze between your fingers and droop over your forearms. Asuka's skin was peppered with reddened rashes and surfacing veins alike. Occasionally, you would graze against one of the more tender areas and hear her try to mute her own instinctive squeals.

But with how big she had become, the search didn't last long. Nipples had long since won the size competition against manhole covers. Her areolae spread across her pristine skin until they each spanned the width of your outstretched arms. And speaking of stretching, that’s exactly what you had to do to fasten the plastic cups on to her unruly tits. Her breasts didn’t jiggle so much as they rippled like cresting waves.

"Mmmmnnf... nngnnngggh..." Asuka's hands were clamped over her mouth. Eyes shut, shoulders tensed; surely beneath her titanic boobs, her legs were squirming wildly about. When you were burying your arms deep into her underbust in search of her nipples, you could feel how the movement of her legs moved her entire chest around like it was a slinky.

The pump was an electronic device that had forever found its place in the corner beside you. Besides the couch, it was the only furnishing that wasn't allowed to leave this room. The hoses that connected it with the two plastic cups on her boobs were as thick as those that came off the side of a fire engine.

All it took was a flick of a switch.

WHIIIIIIIIRRRRRRR...

The hoses sprang to life in an instant, thickening up as milk flowed through them like they were connected to a fire hydrant. Milk pummeled the insides of the plastic cups like water dousing a windshield in a car wash. The sounds were crushing, deafening – but none of them grabbed your attention quite as much as Asuka's own uncontrollable whimpering.

"Nnnnghh... mmNNNnnfgh... haaah... haaah...~"

To visit a historic landmark; to look up at a rare eclipse; to watch how Asuka's ferocious attitude turned on a dime as the milk started to flow. Her delicate fingers dropped from her mouth and gripped the leather upholstery of your couch like she was bracing for some sort of impact. Sweat dripped from the tips of her eyelashes. Even her legs kicked involuntarily underneath the weight of her boobs like she was being tested for reflexes. There was no question about it. Her boobs ruled her entire body.

"...o-okay... y-you did it... hhNNnnngh... just in time..." She may have been on the other side of the room across a horizon of cleavage, but Asuka's smile was unmistakable. It was so warm that it could bring the sun up during the dead of night. "...I guess as... MMMNF... a reward... y-you can p-put that cowbell collar around my neck..."

#muse: asuka #breast expansion #lactation #the drabble zone

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darlingsfandom · 5 months ago

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Hiiiii! I don't know if you're doing requests or not... but if so, could you do some type of affair thing? Like Cillian is at some gala and sees reader and wants her badly, even though he has a wife? Thanks!!

Hi, I can do that(:

TW: Cheating, fingering, face fucking, p in v unwrapped, no pull out, gagging.

Not proofread!

Lights flashed as many celebrites and other rich people made their way into Gala. You were hooked onto the arm of the Gala owner who was your best friend after all. He gave you a kiss on the cheek before walking around to greet all the guest.

You made your way around only to stop dead in your tracks as he walked in, Cillian Murphy! Your heart did a backflip watching him walk into the building. This had to be a dream. You stood there watching more like gawking at him.

"Good god, pick your jaw up off the floor!" Your best friend chuckled as he grabbed your shoulders from behind.

"DId you invite Cillian Murphy?

"I did!" "And you didn't tell me?" You playfully hit has his hand.

"Honey, he's married! Don't do something stupid." Your best friend patted your shoulder before running off again. A sigh left your lips. He's not wrong, you shouldn't do something stupid.

As the night went on you did your best to avoid Cillian. It was working well until you went to go freshen up , pushed back your seat and accidently hit someone making them spill their drink on your exposed cleavage.

"I'm sooo sorry." The apology was half assed. You gave an awkward smile before bolting out of the room, through the doors and into the hallway only to what felt like a wall.

"Fuck! I'm sorry!" You about bursted into tears.

"Hey tis okay, no need ta cry!" You knew that accent anywhere. Of all the people to run into. You looked up at Cillian through your lashes as he put his hand on your shoulder. "Are ya alright?" He asked giving your shoulder a squeeze.

"Uh yeah, just had some wine poured on my boobs..." He raised an eyebrow before looking to see a redish stain and drops going to your breasts. You had mentally slapped yourself. The two of you stood there looking at each other before you excused yourself to clean up the mess.

After cleaning up the wine, you took a second to double check your make up. Everything looked fine, your hair still looked nice flowing down your back and your little black dress was fine despite the wine. It was still hugging you all the way down to your feet that were in a nice pair of pumps. You made your way back out only to walk into Cillian again.

"We gotta stop meetin like tis." He chuckled as your cheeks turned bright pink.

"Well this is a dream come true for me!" Cillian smiled as you tucked some of your hair behind your ear. He reached forward, grabbed your hand and brought it to his lips before giving it a small kiss. He looked up at you and seen how red your cheeks were, butalso how your lips were parted slightly, eyes glazed. Your head tilted slightly making him stand up striaght and clear his throat.

"I shouldn't say this, but you're a very attractive lady and I.."

"kiss me!" You cut him off and he could'nt say no. He yanked you down the hall were it was more exclusive and pushed you up against the wall. His lips smashed into yours. You moved your lips hungerly against his. Teeth scrapped against teeth, hands all over each other as his tongue slid into your mouth. This was wrong, you knew it, he knew it, but neither of you could stop. The kisses got heavier by the second making you whimper into his mouth. Cillians hands squeezed at your hips making you grip onto his arms.

"I have ta confess, seen ya as soon as I walked in, knew i had to have ya." His words struck you making you clench around nothing.

"Have me!" You pleaded. Cillian looked around before taking you into what looked like an empty storage closet. You tripped over a bucket making him chuckle before pinning you agaisnt the metal rack. His hands snaked up your dress to pull your panties down around your ankles. His fingers gently rubbed against your folds. You watched carefully as he slowly pushed his index finger in you making you gasp.

"Shh honey, ya gotta be a good girl and be quiet." Cillian pressed his lips to yours and kissed you while sliding his finger in and out of you. He added another finger into you making you grip the rack behind you. Cillian kissed down your neck as he twisted his fingers in you. "Such a wet cunt and i barely touched ya."

"I've wanted you for so long!" You mumbled while your brain turned fuzzy because of how his fingers worked you over. Cillian pulled out his fingers and licked them clean before shoving them into your mouth. You sucked on his fingers while keeping lust filled eye contact. He pulled them back out so he could unbuckled his pants. You bit your lip and watched as his pants and boxers pooled around his ankles.

"oh fuck..." Your mouth hung open at the sight of his cock. It was what you had imagined. Nice, thick, average sized and a nice salt and pepper happy trail.

"It's yours honey." Cillian took your hand and placed it on his hardened cock. You wrapped your hand around the shaft while getting down on your knees. His hand rested on your head as he watched you wrap your lips around the head of his cock. You looked like an angel on your knees to him. The way your eyes glazed over as the head hit the back of your throat making you gag was pornographic. He swore this was heaven. Cillian threw his head back with a groan as you sucked him off like a desprate whore.

"Dats a good girl, suck me cock yeah.." His fingers tangled into your hair and yanked it to guide you down on his cock. Drool dribbled down your chin as he fucked your throat. The room echod the gagfing noises as you let him abuse your throat with his cock. Your hand reached down and massaged his balls making him moan. Cillian pulled you off and looked down to see the string of spit connecting your shiny lips to his cock, he smiled while pulling up to stand up straight before lifting up on of your legs.

Both of you looked each other in the eyes as he rubbed the head of his cock against your folds.

"Fuck me sir, please" Your words made Cillian push all the way inside of you in one movement.

"FUCK!" Both of you cried out. You felt so tight and warm around him. His cock was bigger than what you thought and it stung as you stretched. He held your hips as he started to slowly fuck into you. Your hands held onto his shoulders for better balance while he gently bounced you on his cock. Your mouth hung open making the prettiest moans escape. Cillian held onto you tighter, bouncing your faster as you held him tighter. You leaned in to kiss him desperatly, his tongue mixed with yours as he moaned into your mouth. Both of you were on clound nine.

"Fuck just like that Cillian!" You whimpered as he angled your hips to go higher. He grunted loudly. It was ectasy feeling his cock fuck into, the way his grunts made you clench, your hands gripping his jacket pulling him closer so you could bite his bottom lip. When he felt that, he moved his hands to under your ass and gave it a smack. He kneeded your ass cheeks while fucking senselessly into your cunt.

The heat rushed over your body. "Please please please! I need to cum Cillian!"

"Cum for me honey, make a mess on me cock!" His breath was hot and paced as you looked into his eyes. His cock was making you full. It was like nothing else exsited in that moment. Your orgasm hit you hard. You hands gripped onto his arms as you cried out his name. Your body shook hard as you clenched around his cock. Cillians own orgasm hit him hard and fast with no time to pull out. His cum filled you to the brim, you could feel the warm liquid dripping down your thighs and onto the floor. Cillian held onto you as the two of you came down from the high of your orgams.

"I'm sorry honey didn't mean ta cum in ya,. Ya just felt so good." He kissed the top of your head. You looked up at him with soft eyes and stroked his cheek. "It's alright, it's what I wanted." You kissed him while he pulled out of you. The two of you cleaned each other up the best you could. He offered you his arm to help you walk back out to the gala like nothing had happened.

"If you ever need a good time again..." You whispered to him. "I'm all yours."

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #au cillian murphy #cillian murphy au #emsblurbs #cillian murhpy #cillian murphy drabble #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x fem!reader #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy fanfiction

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khunyuki · 5 months ago

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"I've lived my life with blade and you always in my mind"

ʀᴇqᴜᴇꜱᴛ: 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚋𝚊𝚍𝚕𝚢?

Synopsis: Kafka was so used to calling Kagami as Platoon Leader Hoshina that he was confused when she ran away after mentioning that in front of his Vice Captain. Part 2 of this post.

Pairing/s: Hoshina Soshiro x Fiancee!OC

Note/s: I was undecided if I should choose detailed or not but for now i'm writing it in the way I knew how to write. Shorter but better i guess hahahah

Warning/s: Minors below 18+ is NOT ALLOWED

Genre: NSFW

Masterlist: TOC

↓↓↓ PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK AS THIS CONTAINS EXPLICIT CONTENT ↓↓↓

"My wife, why are you hiding here all by yourself?"

As if her body took a screenshot, Kagami was so startled by the sudden voice whispering in her ears that she jumped and lost her balance only to bump into the person she's hiding from.

"S-Soshiro! H-how did you get here?! Since when??"

Kagami wanted to run away but the sheer strength of his grip overpowers her easily. She didn't know how he got behind her undetected or how he found her but she knew... She's already screwed...

"I-i'm not hiding I swear! I just have work to do!"

Kagami made an excuse with whatever comes to her mind first. Her brain already in a mush despite him not doing anything and just holding her in his arms. Her face turning red by the second as she remember her crimes.

"Is that so~ I wonder what kind of work does Platoon Leader Hoshina have to do in the storage room?"

Hoshina Soshiro licked his lips as his fiancee gulped at having been caught. He lifted her body to sit her down on the empty table, then pressing close enough between her legs to meet her private parts with his own. Her legs unconsciously wrapping around his hips and her arms on his neck.

"That's... Ummm... Well..."

Kagami couldn't move nor could she think. Especially when he was grinding his hips in a sensual way, making her aroused while he's just looking at her with his usual foxy face like he isn't doing anything to her at all.

"Tell me... Do you really want to take my last name that badly, my dear wife?"

Soshiro took his left hand from her hips to the base of her cheeks and jaw, cupping and supporting it. His thumb rubbing her plump lips, playing with it. He urged her to open her mouth and made her suck on it. He couldn't help but bit his own lips in delight as she easily gave him access to her mouth, her tongue playing with it as she sucked it like a baby. He could feel her sanity leaving out of her body as he removed his hand away from her face.

"Yes. I do"

As if possessed, Kagami gave her answer as if she's out of breath. Staring at him with those bedroom eyes full of need, she pulled him down so their lips could meet with each other.

↓↓↓ PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK AS THIS CONTAINS EXPLICIT CONTENT ↓↓↓

Soshiro ripped her tights and moved her panties aside, pushing her uniform's skirt upwards. He inserted his digits on her needy cunt while he kissed her hungrily, drowning out the moans she's letting out.

"Be quiet. You wouldn't want anyone to hear you, right?"

He whispered in her ear while pumping in and out of her. His free right hand brushing her hair back, moving her braids to the back. She placed her hands on her mouth in an attempt to drown out her moans.

"Remove your buttons but don't take your clothes off"

She did as she was told, undoing the buttons of her uniform clumsily. The standard formal uniform for women is made like a dress with a belt so despite what she's doing, the uniform still clings to her with only her chest exposed. He licked his lips at the show.

"That's right. Good girl"

He removed his right hand from her head to slipped it inside her bra. Cupping her left breast and squeezing it in the confines of restrictive clothing. He pushed it upwards while he played with her erect nipples and bit her neck.

"Soshi--"

His actions left her breathless that she almost forgot to keep quiet. Just the mere thought of doing such vulgar act at work made her wet and tight, even more so if someone hears her loud noises during it.

"Shhhh~"

The soft shushing he let out brought shivers down her spine, making her bite her bottom lip in ecstasy. Never in her life did she thought of something like this happening to her yet it gives her with so much delight because she's doing it with her lover.

She was close, so so close with the way her pussy became even tighter and how her silent moans became more erratic. Then he stopped all of his work, removing his fingers from her cunt and breast making her feel so empty and whine as he interrupted her high.

"Tell me what do you want me to do?"

He knew just how much she wants him but he can't let her get what she wants so easily. Even if she stares at him with those eyes, begging him to make her cum and put it inside.

"I-"

She knew he was teasing her with that twisted smile on his face. He wants her to beg him but she's too embarrassed to do so. She couldn't even close her legs and squirm as he's standing in between them.

"What does my dearest wife want me to do?"

He asked her as he removed his own member from its own confines, stroking it with his hands then slapping it against her pussy. She tried so hard to contain her moans but the way he rubs it upside down her folds, pressing on her hole yet not entering it fully, she was going crazy.

"Please! Put it in plea-Ahhh"

She begged him in a whisper shout as she couldn't handle it any longer. He didn't even let her finish before he pushed himself all the way inside producing a smack of their skins meeting each other. He was pounding on her so roughly and fast, she couldn't even produce a sound as her mouth hangs open.

"Who am I?"

He asked her, not once stopping his fast pace. His hands now on her bottom bringing her closer to him as their hips met.

"Soshiro~"

She could only call his name in response at the pure ecstasy she's feeling.

"Not that, the other one"

This confused Kagami as she suddenly looked at him for clarification. Only the smile on his face was his answer. Then she thought back to what he keeps on calling her the entire time, not that she could thinking properly with him rearranging her guts at the moment.

"H-husband?"

She guessed having recalled him calling her wife over and over again, and how she got into this situation in the first place.

"That's right"

His pace became even rougher, constantly hitting her g-spot as reward for her correct answer.

"My husband~"

"My wife~"

They called out to each other with their newfound endearments feeling even more vigorous as they feel their climaxes coming. He could feel his member getting harder at her every mention.

"I'm the only one who can make you and see you like this hmm"

"Yes! You're the only one!"

They momentarily forgot to be silent as they released at the same time. As always, he rode her still releasing all of his semen inside her womb then finally removes it with a satisfying pop. They pant heavily at the sudden workout as they he held her in his arms.

"How about a second round?"

He gave her an expecting grin before he got slapped on the shoulder.

"We're still at work..."

Not as exhausted as before, the fog on her mind instantly cleared as soon as she came, remembering where they are.

"Hmmm... What a shame. I wanted to show you more how this husband of yours will treat you"

He helped her stand up, fixing her bra and buttoning her uniform. He purposely didn't wipe up their juices but instead pushed something inside instead, earning a gasp from her. The liquid dripping on her ruined panties was forcefully pushed back by an object.

"What did you do??"

Confused, Kagami wanted to know what he did. Sure she trusts him but this was the first time he's done something weird to her like this.

"You can't remove it"

She could feel that thing vibrating inside making her really uncomfortable. She's also so full yet this object was shaking on her insides. She once again looked at his face to ask if he's sure about this but was only greeted by a smirk.

"If you make it until you get home then I'll give you a reward"

<- Table of Contents

#hoshina soshiro #soshiro hoshina #hoshina soshiro x oc #hoshina soshiro x reader #kaiju no.8 #soshiro hoshina x oc #soshiro hoshina x reader #yukikhun #hoshina soshiro smut #soshiro hoshina smut

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burstingwithbellies · 1 year ago

Note

As requested:

I stand before you, pen and clipboard in hand. "And how are we feeling today?"

I am met with a moan of... pain? Pleasure? A mixture thereof? Like the lowing of a cow, though at this point such a comparison is way too generous. Nonetheless, I jot down my findings and begin my routine checkup.

At your current size, it takes a whole minute of straight walking to circumnavigate your body, or more precisely your belly. It's a colossal thing, a literal mound of flesh that I could crawl atop of. And every square inch is packed with babies, hundreds of them according to the latest ultrasound. Layers and layers of children overlapping one another. There are babies deep inside you that have never known the caress of an outside hand; only the hands and feet of their many siblings in every conceivable direction, all competing for a little more personal space.

As such, your belly is never still. Your flesh, impossibly taut as it may seem at a glance, is always subtly writhing, undulating like the sea. You certainly have enough amniotic fluid sloshing about inside to masquerade as one. As a matter of fact, I write down that idea: *Record audio of amniotic fluid, test against actual ocean noise, ask subjects to discern the two.*

I continue my rounds, looking up and down the expanse of your belly for anything concerning, noting places where new stretch marks and bruises have formed for later lotion and oil application. In the last few months, we've gone through lifetime supplies of both, which is only appropriate, on second thought. You're creating many, many lives within you. I squeeze your protruding belly button--long lost to you--as I pass by it, but the sensation might be lost on you, when you're constantly contending with the squirming of your brood.

After several minutes, my evaluation is complete and I meet you again, face to face. "Looks like you've grown a few more inches since yesterday," I cheerfully inform you. Again, you moan piteously, not even making eye contact. Understandably so. You're so pregnant that it occupies your every waking thought. I'm barely a presence to you. Which suits me just fine. I mark the time, document my intention, then I click my pen closed and set the whole thing aside on a nearby table.

The rest of your body is elevated off the ground, so I must climb a few steps to reach the platform we’ve built around you. Out in front of you, there is a recess for each of your titanic breasts, which have similarly swelled to titanic proportions in order to feed the legion growing inside you. You started producing milk six weeks ago, and since then we’ve had industrial-strength siphons attached to your breasts, pumping around the clock so it doesn’t painfully build up. Even so, you produce almost as quickly as we’re able to safely extract. Every drop we manage to wring out of you is bottled and placed in cold storage, as there won’t be enough time in the day for you to breastfeed every one of your babies. In this regard, and others, you have exceeded our wildest projections. You’re too good at this.

I slip behind you, comfortably settling on the same seat you are. There is ample space, which your body seems to have taken as a challenge. Your ass cheeks are huge and pillowy, a natural consequence of how many calories you’re forced to consume to fuel this impossible pregnancy and the sedentary lifestyle said pregnancy enforces. Needless to say, you’ve grown quite fat. Your ass cheeks alone, huge and pillowy, threaten to engulf my form as I spread them apart to reach my objective: your quivering, constantly dripping pussy. You may be barely cognizant of your surroundings, but your body immediately recognizes mine.. Your hips instinctually align with mine for easier docking. “Such an obedient pet,” I whisper into your ear as I press my cock inside you, grunting with some effort since you’re so tight and swollen. My hands glide across your tender skin, raising goosebumps with just the tips of my fingers. "Your whole body is so sensitive." Your moaning increases in pitch. "Perhaps some part of you recognizes that I am taking advantage of you. But what can you do about it? Your brain is mush, all scrambled from being a baby factory. And to think, you volunteered for this. A post grad student hoping to pay off his debt. How could you have known we would turn you into this," I squeeze some of your flesh. "A fat guinea pig is what you are. Nothing but a pair of tits and a womb. You're not even a person anymore, you're property-a piece of equipment, hardware, in our mission to push the limits of human potential. Hundreds of babies are growing inside you. So who's going to notice one or two more?" That is when I begin to fuck you in earnest, causing your fat to quiver and ripple with each thrust of mine. Pathetic sounds tumble out of your mouth every time I push, but you can't possibly form the words telling me to stop. You haven't burst yet, but that's always a concern at the very back of your mind. You're much too pregnant already, surely you cannot stomach even one more baby, the next one will surely be the one to break the camel's back (or water, in this case). But that exact thought has run through your mind before, every time I've fucked you over the course of this pregnancy, every morning after evaluation, and though your body complains every time, skin creaking in protest as it's forced to expand further... I can't recall a single drop of my seed ever escaping your pussy. Truly, your reproductive system is insatiable.

I check the watch on my wrist, and register surprise. "Evaluation took longer today. Guess I'll have to speed things up. But don't worry, I'll have you screaming by the end of this like always~"

My children. The brood. The populace in my gut. Yet another baby plumps up my stuffed gut. My stomach cries at the new addition to the batch. I become more distended, breaking a new record for the new hour.

I can’t stop the cycle. I’ve lost everything to you. My dignity, my humanity, my body, my mind, my freedom. But I’ve accepted it to some degree.

Throughout all the trauma inflicted on my womb and pangs of pain of being such an overburdened papa, I do still find pleasure. My body has been receptive to all the arduous challenges you have tasked upon me and parting my legs was always the easiest part.

Taking in your cock is natural, of course, your seed is the consequence and pregnancy would have been inevitable. But the sheer number of occupants…?

Well, I almost can’t blame anyone else for this predicament other than myself. At one point, I could have refused. But I just kept taking you on and giving into this pleasure and this hedonism that is so deep within me.

Now, there’s really nowhere else I can turn to… but you.

I can hardly remember the outside world or who I was before. It wouldn’t matter now; it’s not like I can return. I’m serving a new purpose. I’ve become something bigger than that what I was before. Both literally and figuratively.

I can’t quit. No, not until I pop or when all these babies eventually pass out of me.

Or when you eventually grow tired of me, which I highly doubt would ever happen. Many things escape my hollow mind, but I knew as much that I was your plow horse; your cum disposal. Not your life-size doll, but what is yours and bigger than life.

And I’m disposed to you. You’re my mine as much as I am yours but perhaps, this “relationship” is still less than mutual. My pussy aches whenever you are around. You have sown my appetite and it becomes fiercer with each encounter I have with you.

Satisfy me, even though it hurts.

#hyperpregnancy #feeling really kinky ~ 😈#answered 💕#mpreg #nbpreg #fpreg #pregnancy kink #pregnant fantasy

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deliciouskeys · 1 year ago

Text

@cozycornerkinktober's prompt lucky #13: Nursing/lactation

Another deleted scene from the Selfish Gene (Butchlander)

Warnings: Everyone's going to write about HL's canon nursing/breast milk fetish for this one. And uh... so am I. But in mine he's the one lactating so trigger warning for that upfront. Mpreg. Supe baby. Injuries. Weird fetishes. Probably a little bit more emo than I intended. @vanshoundd requested this one, but I'm not at all sure they'll be pleased with the result lol, but I tried! AO3 link.

Butcher’s nose was never that sensitive, but he starts to detect it as soon as he’s out of the elevator on the twenty fourth floor of their new hoity-toity high rise condo building. It hits him full force when he opens the door to the apartment, thick, cloying, notes of melted butter and even something a little like apple, all mixing together into a bouquet that now smells like his partner, like their child, like home. Butcher puts away the groceries he brought in before following the overly familiar, obnoxiously loud sound of the pump coming from their bedroom.

Homelander is sitting half propped up in bed, browsing on his phone, the wearable vest with suction cups stuck to his otherwise bare torso, both 150ml milk bottles half-full with creamy white liquid, frothing up slightly from the negative pressure. Lena’s sleeping soundly on top of his body and not in her crib— as far as Butcher knows she’s never been in her crib in the two weeks since being born, Homelander being completely engrossed with taking her everywhere and keeping her close at all times. He hasn’t really left the house except to go out on the balcony, despite having been so enthusiastic about having the house confinement officially nixed a few months ago. At least their new apartment overlooks Central Park and has two spacious bedrooms— not that Homelander has let Lena stay in her nursery yet. Butcher made a token attempt to convince him that sleeping together with your newborn in the same bed was ill-advised, but SIDS was just not something on Homelander’s list of worries. ‘How about you worry about Sudden Dad Death Syndrome,’ he said dismissively. Butcher had no intention to stay away and sleep in another room. If he’s going to get lasered for rolling over on his infant daughter, well, it was a good run. Homelander seems genuinely worried about that eventuality though, and keeps Lena between his own body and a pillow. Butcher’s not sure how much the pillow would really protect him, but he’s learned not to argue about most of these things. He’s also not sure how much Homelander actually sleeps during the night, because he’s still feeding the baby so often, and every time Butcher wakes up groggy during the night, Homelander’s either feeding, burping, changing, or pumping.

At the moment Lena’s sound asleep, positioned along Homelander’s belly, tiny legs flexibly curled up under her diaper, tiny ribcage visibly moving in and out underneath the tiny blanket draped over her.

“I don’t know how she can sleep through that racket going on near her head,” Butcher says as he lies down next to Homelander.

“It’s really not that loud.” Homelander rolls his eyes, finally putting away the phone.

“It’s pretty loud, love. And I think you’re going to break it soon if you don’t stop running it 24-7.”

Homelander huffs. “What am I supposed to do if I can’t store much inside my body?”

Supplement with formula maybe, Butcher thinks but doesn’t say out loud. It’s a really sore topic they’ve been over multiple times over the past couple of weeks. Homelander’s body responded to pregnancy by the textbook, golden colostrum letting down as soon as Lena rut her face into his chest, not even an hour after being born. But his milk supply never came in as plentifully as the lactation coach assured him it would. He produced milk quickly, but had little storage capacity. His chest was only a little bit more swollen and veiny than before pregnancy, and there was apparently just not enough volume for a satisfying feeding, even for a tiny newborn. Butcher had probably never seen him as upset as when he was frantically switching Lena from one nipple to the other, to no avail because she’d drained both in short order and was crying for more. “Why can’t I do this right?!” he’d lamented, sobbing about his failure, rather than the fact that their famished newborn’s suction was apparently strong enough to make his nipples’ skin chafe, pop, and bleed. Butcher fed Lena formula out of a bottle between her breast feedings during those first few days, and Homelander refused to even watch it happen, lying in bed turned away, weeping, depressed, and defeated. The mere sight of the bottle would send him into what, in Butcher’s mind, was irrational hysterics, but suggesting that there might be some postpartum depression at play here was angrily dismissed out of hand. Butcher found what was at least a stopgap solution, buying one of those supplemental nursing systems where breast milk could be mixed with formula to boost the volume and be used to feed the baby through a thin plastic tube taped to align right with the nipple. All the nice physical bonding of not using a bottle, without the anxiety about your baby going hungry, Butcher figured. But Homelander was still a purist, and wanted zero Similac in the mixture. That’s why he’d taken to pumping day and night, every hour except when Lena was actually latched on to him. For better or worse, it seemed to be working, his body slowly adjusting to meet the demand. In the past few days, he finally started having leftovers to freeze.

“I just feel like I haven’t been able to talk to you without raising my voice over the din of that motor,” Butcher says, cupping Homelander’s face and kissing him on the cheek, then rubbing his hand against the rough beard bristles on his chin. Homelander was so focused on his baby that apparently he stopped prioritizing shaving every morning, brushing his hair, or showering.

“Sorry, I haven’t been taking care of myself today,” Homelander says defensively as Butcher’s hand runs along his jaw.

“D’you want to?” Butcher asks.

Homelander looks down at Lena and sighs.

“I can watch her while you take a fifteen minute shower,” Butcher says, both amused and annoyed. “You can’t keep being this much of a control freak.”

“If she wakes up-”

“I’ll inform you at once, commander-in-chief, Jesus.”

“And if she…”

He trails off but Butcher knows what Homelander is getting at without any more being said. Lena has yet to actually fire off a laser but her eyes have powered up a glow a couple of times in the past two weeks. They haven’t been able to pinpoint what seems to trigger it. Every time it’s happened she was latched on, feeding, and not fussing. Butcher thinks it’s overwhelmed-with-happiness-and-pleasure lasers, not rage-lasers, but they can’t know for sure.

“I’ll be careful and point her away from me. What do you want me to say?”

Homelander nods and slowly sits up. Lena makes a quiet whimper and he freezes but she seems to go right back to sleep, despite being held almost fully upright. Butcher takes her gently into his arms and cradles her. She turns toward his body but thankfully doesn’t wake up and start searching for milk. Homelander walks out of the bedroom with the pump still attached to him.

“Maybe you should take it off before you get in the shower,” Butcher mutters to himself under his breath, but Homelander hears him loud and clear, of course, even with the machine still on and says “Very funny” from the bathroom.

Butcher enjoys the rare opportunity to study this tiny creature snoozing in his arms, a creature he helped make. He leans down and inhales the scent of her head, her wispy dark hairs flying up when he does. He finally hears the pump being shut off and the shower running shortly after. Lena stays asleep, eyes sometimes moving underneath her thin eyelids, long eyelashes twitching slightly. She’s unbearably cute. Holding her, Butcher admits he can understand why her other parent doesn’t seem to want to let go of her for even a minute. He never would have imagined he’d feel like that about anything, let alone a newborn, but there’s some kind of biological or psychological program that’s kicked into gear in his brain once he finally saw her in the flesh. Somewhere in his deep memory he also recalls what it was like to see Lenny for the first time, and feel an overwhelming immediate sense of love for someone so tiny.

As he watches her sleep, his mind starts to drift as well, as if the sleepiness is contagious. He’s in this hypnotized state, so he’s not sure how it happens exactly, but Lena wakes up pretty suddenly. She doesn’t cry, just opens her eyes and next thing Butcher feels is her tiny fist finding and wrapping around the pinky of the hand he’s laid on top of her. Butcher immediately realizes his dire circumstances when he feels powerful force squeezing his finger and bone starting to crack. He stays stoically silent, looking down at her open eyes. They’re huge—sometimes it feels like they’re taking up half of her face— and a piercing blue. He’s heard babies’ eyes often darken as they grow, but as of now they’re the spitting image of Homelander’s. Maybe that’s why he feels just a tiny bit unsettled whenever she fixes them on him– some echo of their old antagonism still buried somewhere deep in his brain.

“Lena, love, let go of Daddy’s hand,” he says quietly through teeth clenching in pain, still smiling at her, already knowing talking like this is futile. He’s fairly sure he feels something fracturing and blinks back tears. She stares up at him, but doesn’t release her grip. He can’t even try to pry her hand off, with none of his hands free. The shower is turned off already, and loath as Butcher is to prove that he can’t watch Lena for fifteen minutes, he gets up and carefully makes his way to the bathroom.

“Can you help me out…” he says as he’s pushing the door open with an elbow and sees Homelander choke on something and press the back of his hand to his mouth. Although he’s at the sink, turned away from the door, Butcher can see in the mirror that he was sipping on one of the milk containers that he detached from his chest.

“JESUS FUCKING CHRIST CAN YOU KNOCK?!” he explodes, apparently before he’s swallowed everything down because the first words come out with a gurgle.

“I actually couldn’t…” Butcher answers sheepishly, wincing because Lena’s grip tightened further around his already broken finger during the yelling.

Homelander looks over and sees the situation and his facial expression twists from anger to distress. He quickly approaches and pries her tiny fingers open, taking her into his own arms almost at the same time, cradling her close.

“She hurt you,” he says, frowning so dramatically that Butcher can’t help but feel amused at their predicament. A baby being able to mangle her father has some kind of dark humor to it.

“She’s fine. I was careless,” Butcher says, almost waving his injured hand dismissively before feeling a jolt of pain in his pinky at any movement.

“Your right hand. You need to go to the hospital,” Homelander laments, starting to sound panicked.

“Hey, it’s not a big deal, alright? Leave it alone. I’ll take care of it later.”

Homelander looks unappeased by that, and it dawns on Butcher that he’s probably insecure about his child being perceived as a danger to normal people, the public. Perhaps to be locked away in a secure facility until all the powers are under control.

“Hey, I’m okay. I was just careless.” Butcher says, but he’s also starting to survey the scene he walked in on. Homelander’s standing naked, hair still wet, holding Lena in his arms who seems to recognize her feeder parent smell and is starting to root around his chest. Butcher sees the bottle of breast milk, almost drained. He doesn’t say anything, but Homelander seems to catch where his gaze went.

“I make enough for her! I’m not having anything that she needs!” he starts saying and Butcher doesn’t know where to start with this.

“Look, I don’t care what you do with it. You’re the one obsessed with not giving her formula. If you want to drink your own breast milk, I’m not going to be the one to stop you.”

Homelander chews on his lip, face crimson, and Butcher can’t believe that this is, of all the strange things this supe’s done, what he’s going to be mortified by.

“I’m not saying it’s normal, but you’re not harming anyone.”

“You don’t get it,” Homelander says, eyes fluttering when Lena finds his nipple and latches on but then he looks down at her and avoids eye contact with Butcher. “I obsess over it. I- I feel like I get turned on when she’s nursing. I even get a little turned on when I’m pumping. I’ve been wanting to drink it. I have real issues.”

Butcher rubs the bridge of his nose, remembering to use his left hand. “I mean, yeah, that sounds a bit sick, but it’s harmless I guess.”

“You never feel tempted to even just taste it?” Homelander asks. His tone is weird and desperate, as if he’s hoping to hear just a little bit of support for this freaky fixation.

“Can’t say I have,” Butcher says, but then adds. “I kind of like the way it smells. I’ll taste it if it makes you feel better.” He approaches and takes a small sip from the same bottle Homelander was drinking out of, smacking and trying to describe the taste like a connoisseur. “It’s really sweet. It’s not that bad. If I didn’t know what it was I might have though it was some kind of bland custard.”

Homelander watches him, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“What?” Butcher asks. “What do you want me to say?”

“You’re not revolted?” Homelander asks cautiously.

“I don’t know, after watching you be in labor for more than a day and then give the bloodiest birth I’ve ever heard of at home on a shower curtain I spread out on our bed? I think I’m beyond being revolted.”

When they move back to the bedroom, Butcher holds Lena while Homelander puts on fresh sweatpants. He’s rushing, as if every second Butcher is holding her is borrowed time.

“You can’t do everything yourself.” Butcher sighs. “It’s just a broken finger. I don’t even feel like going to the ER. They’ll just put it in a splint.”

“Fix your hand,” Homelander answers him brusquely. “I don’t want you walking around with an ugly crooked finger and have it be this ‘Story’ about how Lena broke your pinky.”

“And here I thought you cared about my well-being.” Butcher chuckles.

“Maybe that too,” Homelander says morosely, as he lies back and switches Lena over to his other nipple. His expression softens whenever she’s latched on. “If you’re not going to the ER, can you…bring the bottles from the bathroom…?”

Butcher shrugs and carries the two containers back into the bedroom.

“Can you…” Homelander’s voice gets really quiet. “Can you feed me with it.”

Now Butcher’s a bit disturbed. “Can I what now?”

“Just put the bottle top on it with the nipple and just hold it to my mouth.”

Butcher sighs, incredulous, but does as he’s asked. He watches Lena sucking languidly on Homelander’s nipple– she’s not hungry, she’s mostly doing it out of habit and for comfort. He watches Homelander slowly downing the remaining milk in one bottle and then the other.

“Yeah, this is a bit fucked, love, I have to tell you.”

Homelander licks his lips when he’s drained everything. Lena leans back at about the same time, and the synchrony is vaguely disturbing to Butcher.

“I know,” Homelander says, looking off into the distance and avoiding eye contact. “But it makes me happy.”

A/N: The oxytocin released by the brain upon the sensation of breastfeeding doesn't bring people to orgasm, but it can turn some people on quite a bit. Socially unacceptable biological phenomena, but honestly it makes a lot of evolutionary sense that you'd get rewarded for feeding your brood.

#butchlander #mpreg #cozy corner kinktober #I've missed so many days of kinktober!!! unacceptable #and this is what I bring you after the long absence lol pure id and self indulgence #the selfish gene #homelander #billy butcher #nursing #lactation #kind of messed up #the boys #the boys tv #mystuff #fic

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zombizombi · 8 months ago

Text

I learned that (in the USA) you can get a breast pump through insurance completely free -- or for much lower cost if you choose an upgrade -- which I had no idea about! I got a Spectra this way, I paid ~$20 for the one I specifically wanted. It came with 6 virtual breastfeeding, birth, and lactation classes that I can book at any time I choose and it came with 100 milk storage bags, too! I was glad I learned about this, so wanted to share.

#pregnancy #breastfeeding #breast pump #US healthcare

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gingerteaonthetardis · 2 years ago

Note

“Hey, have you seen the…? Oh.” (tentoo x rose) for the lighthearted prompts? 💕

love love love your writing and I hope you’re having a great day!

hey, dear, thanks for your patience on this one! i had my housewarming this past weekend and hosted some out-of-town visitors, so i had to put down my pen for a little bit. but i'm back with a spot of domestic fluff! hope you don't mind that this story is kind of baby-centric. i couldn't really have a pete's world fic without at least the *implication* of mia...

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

They'd agreed the place in London was only temporary—a stepping-stone on the path to a more permanent home, or possibly on the path to the TARDIS 2.0. Actually, she wasn't super clear what path they were specifically on, but it didn't matter, did it?

Because they were on it together. And together, they tended to find their way.

Anyway, they had agreed.

Their landlord was a bit laissez-faire about things, but that didn't mean they ought to put in their own time and energy fixing the flat up only to have to move out once their lease ended. And Rose was fine with that. She felt no need to repaint or restain and make her mark. Interior design was hardly her passion, and the Doctor seemed to feel more or less the same.

So, when the accident happened—"Good accident!" the Doctor had cried—and it became clear they needed more space, she'd not been terribly invested in redoing the office from the ground-up. They just needed to make it habitable, and most of all, safe.

"It's only temporary," she'd reminded him. "I'll keep checking the papers and asking 'round." With a smile, she'd added, "We'll be somewhere with more space in no time, promise."

No time, however, had turned into four months. And then six.

And the dramatic change that was coming seemed to eat up every spare moment of their lives. There weren't enough hours in the day for all the doctor's appointments and Torchwood check-ups and birthing classes, on top of full work days and date nights and Sunday suppers with her mum and Pete and Tony. And Rose was tired; frequently, comprehensively tired—"Good tired," she would tell the Doctor, pushing their house search further and further to the wayside.

All the while, the Doctor chipped away at what had ultimately become his office-cum-workshop-cum-private laboratory. Boxes were packed and boxes were shuffled away into nebulous storage, and Rose rarely had the energy to do more than marvel that he was capable of being so organised. He'd got a label-maker.

That wasn't to say she wasn't excited.

Routine outings with her mum resulted in more than just the bare necessities of parenthood. Packages arrived seemingly every day, almost gloatingly refilling the spaces the Doctor had just opened up. She unwrapped them all with a curious blend of wonder and excitement and trepidation.

Sometimes, she barely remembered her own purchases and the two-pack of little dino-printed dungarees or the double electric breast pump were like a surprise present from her past self, jolting her back to the reality where this was happening. This was her life.

This was her life, and it wasn't waiting for her, no matter how much she tried to put certain decisions on hold or tried to tell herself things were temporary.

So, it was a Tuesday. It was after four, but not yet late enough for the autumn sun to have fully sunk behind the London skyline. And her head was still back at Torchwood, in the Archive, where she'd been reassigned from the field to review old disaster footage, looking for signs of alien intervention. She'd moved through the tube stations by reflex, not fully present and yet not terribly far away: her thoughts no longer tended to veer toward another universe, but rather, towards the more tangible and immediate past of this world. She wanted—she thought, as she dug through her handbag for her keyring—to ask the Doctor something specific, actually. About the Territories, and an assassination at which he'd been present in the other universe. She wanted to compare notes.

Retrieving her keys, Rose let herself into the flat. There was no sign of the Doctor in the living room, and when she poked her head into the kitchen, he wasn't there either. She removed her earbuds, cocking her head and listening. Down the hall, she thought she heard shuffling.

"Doctor?" she called.

Instead of an answer, she got a kind of thumping sound, and a muffled grunt. He must have been packing more boxes.

"Doctor, I'm home," she said, raising her voice as she turned down the hallway. She didn't bother with taking off her shoes; she was getting big enough around the middle now that she tended to ask his help with them anyway. But she shrugged off her pink peacoat—a maternity gift from her mum—and folded it over her arm. "First day on desk duty. You were right about the Archive job, though, it's not boring at all. Actually, hey, have you seen the—? Oh."

She jerked to a halt in front of the open office door, suddenly realising…

It wasn't an office at all.

At least, not anymore.

All signs of the packed boxes were gone. The Doctor's desk—which had been the last big holdout, shoved into the back corner where he could often be found hunched at work at all hours—was nowhere to be found. In its place was white wood draped in thick plastic sheeting. It was a piece Rose vividly remembered picking out, and seeing it even through the warped plastic covering brought a sudden flood of tears to her eyes. It was dimensional, real. A crib. And beside it stood the Doctor, stepping clumsily off the last rung of a ladder.

He wore denim cutoffs she didn't even know he owned, as well as a ratty ringer shirt. His feet were bare. And smeared all over him was paint—so much paint, in various shades. A soft, pinky-red dotted his cheeks, and there was a slash of grassy green up his left forearm. Baby blue clotted his hairline, curling the front strands. Yellow sunlight drippings splattered his chest.

He looked like he'd been involved in some kind of technicolour explosion.

In his hand was a white-soaked paint brush. And on his face was an enormous grin.

"The JFK file?" he finished for her. "Yes, I most certainly have. Who do you think sent it through to your desk?"

But Rose barely heard him. Wide-eyed, she wandered past the threshold and into the room which now boasted three blue walls and a vibrant fourth—the wall with a window, looking out over the back courtyard where the elderly neighbour obsessively tended her autumn crocuses.

It was a rainbow he’d painted, that much was obvious. Sketched out in loose strokes, it was a marvellously vivid and yet somehow soft arc framing the window, through which the setting sun was showing off with all her might.

"I took off early today," the Doctor was saying. "Wanted to get this done before you got home. Obviously, the footage didn't keep you for as long as I'd hoped."

The sky boasted stunning swaths of violet and orange and peach. Puffy white clouds, still damp and glossy, floated in freshly-painted patches against the blue wall, mimicking the cloud banks above the sunset. The outside bleeding inward, or possibly the reverse.

Beside the window was another recognisable piece of furniture heaped in plastic: a white wicker rocking chair. She'd liked the look of it in the store, and had sat comfortably in it for over twenty minutes while her swollen ankles complained, but had ultimately deemed it too much of an expense. And unnecessary, given their comfortable sofa in the living room.

Rose stepped closer, drawn to it as if by magnets.

In an instant, she could see the completed picture. She could see the paint dried, the white curtains fluttering against the open window, and herself in the rocker with her face to the breeze, breathing in clean, green spring air. The neighbour would be puttering around her yellow rose bushes. And in Rose's arms, she'd be cradling their baby—her baby, a real and squirming life she'd brought into the world.

The image was so crisp, so perfectly vivid, that she struggled to blink it away. She resisted it, in fact, and wanted to live in that warm, pleasant moment forever.

"I know what we agreed," the Doctor was saying, his voice gentle. And a little uncertain. "But I just thought—well, we'll only have this once, you know, this first time. And just because this home is temporary doesn't mean it hasn't been important. I mean, it's where we—where…"

She turned from the window and the setting sun, arms already outstretched. Her handbag and coat fell to the floor.

The Doctor met her readily, uncaring that paint was smearing them both. He tucked her against his chest and under his chin, where she buried her nose and hid her red-rimmed eyes. She wanted to tell him it was perfect—it was just like she'd imagined, only she'd never imagined it here, and she hadn't even known she was imagining it, really. She wanted to say that she never would have wanted this particular adventure without him and his daft ideas and his smeary paint and his thoughtfulness.

But her voice was stopped in her throat.

"So… surprise?" the Doctor offered weakly.

She snorted a laugh. Swallowed thickly, trying for the right words.

And she whispered, "Good surprise."

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

more lighthearted prompts...

#i was feeling very fuzzy while i wrote this... and i was thinking a fair bit about nursery design. oops #but i hope you enjoy the fluff!!#tentoo x rose #tentoorose #meanwhile in pete's world #timepetals #dw fic #abbey writes

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momcomfort · 5 months ago

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Can Breast Milk from Different Pumping Sessions Be Mixed Together?

Breastfeeding is the preferred choice for many new mothers, as breast milk provides all the essential nutrients a baby needs and boosts their immune system. During daily feeding routines, many mothers encounter the question: Can breast milk from different pumping sessions be mixed together? This article explores this question and offers some useful advice for new moms.

Characteristics of Breast Milk from Different Pumping Sessions

Breast milk composition and properties can vary throughout the day. For instance, morning breast milk typically has higher protein and lower fat content, providing ample energy for the baby. In contrast, evening breast milk contains higher fat content, which can help the baby sleep better. These differences arise from the mother’s physiological rhythm and the changing needs of the baby.

Safety of Mixing Breast Milk

From a safety perspective, breast milk from different pumping sessions can be mixed, but several key hygiene principles must be followed:

Ensure Cleanliness: Always ensure that the breast pump and storage containers are clean and sterilized before and after each use to prevent bacterial contamination.

Proper Storage: Store breast milk in clean, sealed containers. Before mixing, ensure that all the breast milk has been appropriately refrigerated or frozen.

Temperature Control: Before mixing, make sure that all breast milk is at the same temperature. Typically, mix refrigerated milk with refrigerated milk and frozen milk with frozen milk.

Practical Steps for Mixing Breast Milk

Choosing a Breast Pump: Use a reliable breast pump, such as those from the KISSBOBO series. These pumps are not only efficient but also thoughtfully designed to preserve the nutritional components of the milk.

Storage and Mixing of Milk: Store the expressed milk in the refrigerator first, and once the temperature is consistent, mix the milk. It is advisable not to mix fresh milk with already refrigerated or frozen milk to maintain quality.

Storage Duration: Refrigerated breast milk should be used within 4 days, and frozen breast milk should be used within 6 months. Mixed milk should also be used as soon as possible to ensure no loss of nutritional content.

Important Considerations

Baby’s Acceptance: Some babies may be sensitive to the taste and temperature changes of mixed milk. Parents should observe their baby’s reaction and adjust feeding methods as needed.

Individual Differences: Every mother and baby is different. Before mixing breast milk, it is advisable to consult a pediatrician or breast feeding consultant for personalized advice.

In general, breast milk from different pumping sessions can be mixed, provided certain hygiene and storage principles are followed. By mixing breast milk correctly, babies can enjoy a more comprehensive range of nutrients, making breastfeeding more flexible and convenient. We hope this information helps new mothers manage breastfeeding better and ensure their babies grow up healthy and happy.

#baby bump #momlife #breast pumping #breast feeding

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streets-of-vale · 11 months ago

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Streets of Vale - Info Dump Body Morph Kit(s)

“The Body Morph Kit give the client the ability to reshape their body to be more in tune with their mood and changing desires” - SDC “Skin Deep Beauty” Products

Body Morph Kits are comprised of various individual procedures that can allow the patient to adjust various body traits. While these kits can be used to disguise one’s identity, they do not allow mimicry of other individuals, nor can they mask traditional identification systems such as retinal, fingerprint, or DNA scanners. Changes are cosmetic only.

The installation of such kits is extremely invasive, requiring weeks of recovery. All installations are permanent. Removal of required systems and modules will cause extensive tissue damage.

BEFORE ACTIVATION & AFTER ACTIVATION

(Images generated by perchance ai text-to-image)

Eye Kit The natural lens of your eyes are replaced by a special set of intraocular lens. These lenses are specially treated that with the proper application of a specific pattern of electrical surges will change the tint of your eyes. The controller for the system is wired into the brain, and uses the central nervous system to deliver the pattern of charges that induce the color change.

Voice Modulation - A special electronic amplifier is affixed to the patient's vocal cords. In the case of male patients, the Adam’s apple is removed. Using a similar system as the Eye kit a controller is wired into the brain, and using the body’s central nervous system to transmit a pattern of electrical charges, the patient can modify their voice with in the normal ranges of the human voice.

Breast / Buttocks / Facial / Hip / Thigh Augmentation Kits - Using an inert gel, a set of micro pumps upon activation can cause specifically designed sacks embedded in the appropriate location’s tissue and muscle to inflate or deflate. There by increasing or decreasing the size appearance of the patient’s breasts. - Storage tanks for the system are secured inside the pelvic region, fastened to the lower spine. While a specialized cloned synthetic elastic skin graft is used to provide more room for expansion in the patient's chosen locations.

Breasts = Allows for the increase of up to 1 cup size in female patients. In male patients, cup size ranges from A to B. Buttocks = Moderate increase of 2.5 to 5 cm, with gentle rounding and shaping. Facial = Only provides for a softening or sharpening of facial features. Hips = Moderate increase of 2.5 to 5 cm, with a gentle rounding and shaping. Thighs = Moderate increase in diameter of 2.5 to 5 cm, with the appropriate tapper.

Synthetic Nails - The patient's nails and cuticles are permanently removed, and replaced with a synthetic acrylic system that is treated with a special polymer non-chip resin that when the proper pattern of electrical charges will change color and “grow out” up to 2 cm. The nails are retractable. The main controller unit is wired to the brain. This system has NO combat applications.

Hair Kit - Patient’s scalp is removed and replaced with a cloned synthetic one, that has been embedded with mono-filament hairs, set to the patient’s original hair color. The filaments are impregnated with a polymer that with a specific electrical charge pattern will cause a color change. The range of color pallet is with in the normal spectrum of light. As with other color change systems, the controller is wired to the brain. - This “hair” does not grow, so the patient must specify the length prior to installation.

Multi-System Control - In those patients that request multiple morph systems, the individual controllers can be swapped out for a multiple system unit.

(These Posts are to expand on Concepts/Ideas that will show up in the SoV stories. They are far from complete, and feedback is welcome.)

#streets of vale #info dump

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babygirl-riley · 2 years ago

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Quickies*

Once they slept together that one time, they are not able to keep their hands off of each other. Getting ready for the El Sin Nombre in Las Almas they had a quick fuck.

Warnings: Swearing, Mention of Violence, and SMUT SMUTTY SMUT SMUT

We all stood around the table of the mansion that Alejandro knew about Nombre’s hideout. It took us a couple hours to finish the meeting once Ghost gave his opinion on the mission. I could feel his eyes land on me every now and then.

Since we fucked the night before the sexual tension was even higher. The need was stronger, when we were called for the meeting I made sure to brush my fingers on his lower back. The way his stare fell on me with need but soon gone as people walked in.

I headed out first after Graves wrapped it up. I started towards my room to get more of my gear when I felt someone grab my arm and pull me into a storage closet. My flight of fight instincts kicked in, I was about to swing but noticed it was Ghost.

“That wasn’t very nice.” He whispered into my ear, his skull mask brushing against my skin.

I held back the groan that was surfacing. “What wasn’t nice.” I didn’t even realize how my breathing slowed as his hands moved down my sides to grip my hips.

“I could remind you what you did.” His voice came out even deeper than it already is.

I didn’t say anything as his hands travelled in my shirt and did the same motion I did but my stomach. I sighed arching my back at bit, at this point I wanted more. I dragged my hips against his. “We have to do this fast.” I whispered the need laced with it.

Ghost didn’t answer but rubbing his clothed cock against me. I bit my lip so I wouldn’t moan. “That’s fine love, you have to be quiet.”

He unbuckled my belt and pulled my pants and underwear at the same time. I gasped at the shelves being so cold against my skin. He grabbed my breast and palmed them, I heard his belt unbuckle and his pants being shuffled. His gloved finger dove to my clit and made slow tight circles.

I placed my head back on a shelf biting my lip hard as my hips rocked with his fingers. “So wet, just for me.” He whispered so quietly that I barely even heard him.

He picked up his pace as he inserted both of his fingers. Having hit my orgasm fast and hard. I gripped his shoulder as my mouth gaped open for air. “Good girl,” He said pumping one last time. “You ready for my cock?”

I could hear his voice break a bit from his breathing being hard. “Just go Ghost.” I said looking at him.

I could tell he was smirking underneath the mask. Ghost lined his cock on my entrance being quickly pushing in. I gasped, his hand came right around my mouth. “I know love.” He whispered. “You are taking me well.”

He started moving, his cock rubbing against my soft walls. He was slow at first having me adjust. I grabbed a bit of my shirt bitting down hiding the moans quietly leaving my mouth. Ghost started to grunt as he picked up the pace, slamming into my cervix.

I rolled my eyes back as he picked me up having my legs wrap around him. I tried to grip the shelves, shoving some of items on the shelf, hitting the ground. Ghost held me closer to his chest and guided my hands to go around his neck. He placed his forehead against mine, we stared at each other.

He was breathing my heavier and his eyes were lidded. He looked beautiful this way. Ghost hit that sweet spot that made me see stars. “Fuck…” I whispered closing my eyes as he went faster.

His cock felt like it was meant to be inside of me. The feeling of him dragging against my walls. How his hands roamed up and down my sides gripping my breasts. How my hands would grip the back of his head and the sound that left his lips. The growl that left his lips as he stared at me before rolling his eyes.

“You feel so good.” He mumbled, he slurred a bit as he gasped for a moment.

I nodded as a sigh left my lips trying to keep myself together. When I thought he was going fast he went impossibly faster and hitting harder into me. Making one slap sound of his balls hitting my ass. I gasped when he moved harder. It felt so fucking good, it was addicting. Even in a tight quarters of a closet it still felt so fucking good to be this close. To feel him. To hear him.

The almighty Ghost was falling apart because he is basically pussy drunk. For mine. It boosted my confidence by a lot to know everyone’s reaper needed me to release. To fold a bit. He gripped my throat not tight, softly as he looked down to where we were joined.

“I…Im close.” He said as his hips began to faulter a bit and his other hand grip became harder.

“Me…Fuck Ghost…” I mumbled as my orgasm was coming quick. His hand on my throat squeezing a bit. Sending chills down my spine. I could hear both of our cum mixing in together as my orgasm took hold.

Ghost placed his forehead against my chest while I arched back and toes curling. My eyes screwed shut, it felt so good, I didn’t want him to stop. I felt my orgasm finally boil over as my mouth fell open.

I could hear him panting harder as his arms tensed, I felt his cum shot against my cervix. We both let out a quiet sigh. We both caught our breaths together, gathering ourselves, thoughts. Last night sex was suppose to be the one and only one. Now we can’t stop touching each other, looking, even with us not kissing, his touch burned my skin.

It was such a satisfying feeling touching him, having him this close. To release. Just sex isn’t bad in this field of work, just a quick bang and that’s that.

“This is the last time.” I whispered as we pulled our pants and belts on. “We can’t get caught.”

“Agreed,” He answered looking intensely at me. “This will be the last time we fuck. Someone will eventually notice.”

“It wouldn’t look good on our records for sure.” I teased fixing the loose hair that fell out of the bun I once had.

Ghost grunted in response. “Let’s go get Nombre.”

I nodded in response watch him slowly open the door before sliding out. I waited for a moment before doing the same thing. I could feel his cum dripping out, had to go clean up for sure.

It was the last time we have sex. We both agreed and that was that. Part of me felt that it shouldn’t be, it could just be a fucks with benefits. I shook my head, no this is the last time Allison.

Little did both of us know it was one of many more of us being able to hear the noises that will come from both of us.

#simon ghost riley #call of duty modern warfare #simon riley #simon ghost riley x allison fox lawson #simon ghost riley x oc #call of duty mw2 #call of duty #cod mw22

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leaveherwildliketheflowers · 2 years ago

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Different anon here, re: 4-6 hours of uninterrupted sleep: could you use a breast pump to get one or two portions of milk someone else could feed her while you sleep? Take care x

Absolutely I could. I am actually pumping right now between feeds to create a storage of milk in the freezer for when I go back to work and she starts going to daycare. But at 2.5 weeks old I'm not ready to regularly introduce a bottle yet. She has a really good latch but I want to make sure that breastfeeding is well established before I start letting her take a bottle to avoid risking nipple confusion. In a few more weeks this will be more of an option.

#ask #anon

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womenhealthcare2 · 1 year ago

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Lactation 101: Everything You Need to Know About Breastfeeding

Welcome to Lactation 101, your comprehensive guide to the world of breastfeeding. Whether you're an expectant mother, a new mom, or simply curious about the topic, this article provides you with all the essential information you need to embark on a successful breastfeeding journey. From understanding the benefits of breastfeeding to practical tips for establishing a healthy breastfeeding routine, we've got you covered. So, let's dive into the wonderful world of lactation and unlock the knowledge you need to nourish and nurture your baby.

The Beauty and Benefits of Breastfeeding:

Breastfeeding is not only a beautiful bonding experience but also offers an array of benefits for both mother and baby. Breast milk provides optimal nutrition, boosting your baby’s immune system and reducing the risk of illnesses. Additionally, it enhances the emotional bond between you and your child. Understanding these benefits will motivate and inspire you on your breastfeeding journey.

Preparing for Success: Antenatal Education and Support:

Preparing for breastfeeding during pregnancy along with pregnancy yogais essential for a smooth transition into motherhood. Attend breastfeeding classes and seek guidance from healthcare professionals to gain valuable knowledge and support. Connecting with lactation consultants or support groups can provide you with the assistance you need when challenges arise.

Latching and Positioning: The Key to Comfortable Feeding:

Proper latching and positioning are crucial for successful breastfeeding. Ensure your baby latches deeply onto the breast and find comfortable breastfeeding positions for both of you. Understanding the mechanics of latching and positioning will help ensure effective milk transfer, minimize discomfort, and promote a positive breastfeeding experience.

The Rhythm of Milk Production: Supply and Demand:

Breast milk production operates on a supply and demand basis. Your baby’s feeding cues stimulate milk production, so it’s important to respond to those cues and empty your breasts regularly. If concerns about milk supply arise, there are practical tips available to help maintain healthy milk production and meet your baby’s needs.

Common Challenges and Troubleshooting:

Breastfeeding may come with its fair share of challenges, but rest assured, most issues can be overcome with the right support. Sore nipples, engorgement, and mastitis are common challenges. Seek assistance from lactation consultants or healthcare professionals for troubleshooting and guidance. Remember, you’re not alone, and help is available to ensure a positive breastfeeding experience.

Nurturing Yourself: Self-Care for the Breastfeeding Mother:

As a breastfeeding mother, it’s crucial to prioritize self-care to maintain your physical and emotional well-being. Ensure you’re getting adequate nutrition, hydration, and rest. Seek emotional support from your partner, family, or support groups. By taking care of yourself, you’ll be better equipped to become your child nutritionist.

Pumping and Storing Breast Milk:

If you plan to pump breast milk or have occasional separations from your baby, understanding the basics of pumping and proper milk storage is essential. Research different types of pumps, learn pumping techniques, and follow safe storage guidelines to maintain the quality and safety of expressed breast milk.

Breastfeeding is a remarkable journey filled with love, nourishment, and countless benefits for both mother and baby. Equipping yourself with the knowledge shared in this Lactation 101 guide sets you on the path to a successful breastfeeding experience. Remember, every breastfeeding journey is unique, and it’s okay to seek support and guidance along the way. Trust your instincts, be patient with yourself and your baby, and embrace the joy and fulfillment that breastfeeding brings.

#pregnancy yoga #prenatal yoga #lactation consultant online #low milk supply #fertility yoga #lactating #lactation consultant

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