#feeding bottle nipple

[mieluscious]

who cares. xavier

ෆ pairings : xavier x female reader

ෆ genre : drabble, smut, pwp

ෆ miel's note : so guys. unfortunately there aren't many fics about love and deepspace at the moment but here i AM so come aboard! i don't intend to let you starve.

ෆ warnings : mdni. switch!xavier, switch!reader, established relationship, couch sex, some teasing, riding, rough sex, unprotected sex, reader feeds him with her mouth, xavier is a cutie and a monster at the same time . . . ໑ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚

"w-wait im thirsty-" you threw your head back and moaned xavier's name as you bounced faster on his cock.

"w-what?" you raised your head at his words and his hand came to rest on your hips, trying to slow you down as he blindly reached for a bottle of water on the coffee table next to the sofa you were both on. "fuck. baby we are fucking right now-" you squealed loudly as he raised his hips to try and catch the bottle, which was further away than he thought but still, he couldn't reach it. you put your hands on his chest and moved your hips slower against his.

"i know but.." he raised his puppy dog eyes to you and you couldn't resist him any longer. he opened his mouth and a little whimper escaped from between his lips as you placed your hands on either side of his head on the sofa. his hands slid down your back to grab your ass, making you fuck yourself harder on his cock. "please.." your teeth caught your lip to keep yourself from screaming as you felt his cock hit your g-spot. you leaned forward a little bit more to grab the bottle, without taking your eyes off xavier.

he smiled between moans as you felt him tremble between your thighs at the sight of you licking the bottle cap erotically. your other hand, which was still on his chest, slid to his nipple, which you pinched with a grin. xavier arched his back against the sofa with a loud mewl, your heart melting as you watched his ears redden. you finally opened the bottle and brought it to your lips, while he took the opportunity to pinch your ass in return, almost knocking the bottle out of your hands. you crushed your pelvis against his and raised an eyebrow as his teeth caught his lip.

"say sorry baby." your thumb pressed again against his swollen bud, making him thrust his hips up.

"ahhh... i'm sorry.." you leaned in to kiss his forehead and little whimpers escaped from between his lips with each of his thrust as he watched you straighten up to put water in your mouth. you leaned over him again and placed the bottle back on the coffee table.

"open your mouth." he opened his mouth and your gaze dropped to his collarbones, which were visibly reddening. you put your forearms on either side of his head and your lips caught his, making him tremble beneath you as he timidly swallowed the water you finally gave him. a trickle of water escaped from between your lips and xavier arched his back, moaning prettily into your mouth as he felt the cool water running against his ear. when he had finished drinking all the liquid in your mouth, you licked his tongue before letting go of his lips and you pressed your forehead against his. "f-faster baby." you straightened your upper body a little and your fingers entwined his soft blond hair. he tilted his head to the side and kissed your forearm without taking his eyes off you.

"everything you want." he tilted his head back slightly with a cute whimper and your moans started echoing against his living room walls as he started to thrust his cock deeper into your dripping cunt. his hands moved up the small of your back before getting back to your ass, which he slapped hard, making you bounce even faster on his cock, fucking him back roughly. "f-fuck. you're so wet..n'tight-" one of xavier's hands slipped between your breasts to grasp your throat and you threw your head back as you cried out louder.

a streams of yes’s escaped from your glossy lips as the doorbell suddenly rang throughout the apartment. you tilted your face back towards xavier, who was moaning with his mouth wide open and his cheeks more than flushed. he didn't seem to have heard and you tried to warn him, but you mewled when his hand, which was on your ass, slipped onto your hips before putting his arm around them, and you started to rub your clit harder against his pelvis. he pressed his arm down on your waist, making you lean your ass back to let him fuck you rougher. your grip on his hair tightened and you fell on top of him as he struck you with a thrust that was stronger than the others, your delicious breasts pressed against his chest made him blush even more. you looked up at him and opened your mouth to try to speak again, but seeing your face so fucked made him even more excited, you flushed as you could hear the lewd squelching and skin slapping against skin noises getting louder.

"b-baby....ahhh.. d-door-" the doorbell rang again and xavier smiled between two moans.

"it's the delivery guy-" he slipped his hands under your thighs and pushed you more against him, arching your back. you could feel your wetness trickling down to his fingers. you also smiled and licked his chin before biting gently, making him whimpers.

"ahh- let's keep..fucking then."

© 𝙢𝙞𝙚𝙡𝙪𝙨𝙘𝙞𝙤𝙪𝙨 ! 𝙢𝙙𝙣𝙞 — 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘭, 𝘮𝘰𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘺 𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘱𝘭𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘥 𝘪𝘮 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶. ☆⌒(>。<)

[peachesofteal]

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader - 18+ smut, alcohol. lactation (heavily requested because I guess we're all fiends now?), daddy, praise kink. request(s): Mama makes a friend

"And you didn't find him?"

You shake your head. "Not until I almost ran into him on the sidewalk. I looked everywhere."

“Wow.” Cami’s eyes are wide, fixated on your story, fine stemmed champagne glass delicately balanced in her fingers. It’s empty again, like yours, and when the server comes by, you ask them for another round.

That’s the point of bottomless, right?

“You’re brave.” She quips, scooping up a bite of her eggs. “Raising a baby on your own.”

“You’re sweet.” She is. You really like Camille. She was the one who reached out a few weeks ago, when Simon and Kyle got in, and has been trying to lure you out of the house since.

So, when Kyle called Simon on Friday night and suggested he and Orion come over to watch football, Cami texted ten minutes later.

> Bottomless mimosas at brunch on Sunday? Or we could sit around and watch football for two hours. Exciting.

You hadn’t realized how much you missed… just being you. You outside of being Orion’s mother, you outside of navigating your relationship with Simon. Spending time outside of your flat without worrying about feeding or nappies or sanitizing bottles and endlessly cleaning up. Simon took a lot of the pressure off, assumed most of the workload now, but it was still hard to untangle yourself from motherhood.

Not to mention, leaving Orion for even a few hours was stressful. Simon had to nearly force you out the door this morning, over the sound of the baby’s screams. The separation had your heat beating in your ears, stomach turbulent with anxiety, only fading slowly with time as you finished one mimosa and moved to the next.

“So you’re coming to dinner right?” You blink, rapidly trying to reconcile her question with reality. Your head is a little fuzzy, limbs a little floaty, and you’re sure if you stood up right now, you’d probably be gripping the table for support with your wonky balance.

Finally, you catch up. “Right, dinner. Next weekend.” She nods.

“Uh huh…” She squeaks with a laugh. There's nothing comedic about her words, but with four mimosas in you both, everything seems a little funny. "At ours. Johnny is coming, an' their captain."

"And you're cooking?" She makes a sour face, laughing again.

"I'm gonna try."

Kyle looms at your side when Simon opens the door. He's alone, no baby in his arms, and the flat is surprisingly quiet. The smile that tips your lips upwards is uncontrollable, and you giggle as he raises an eyebrow. "Thanks Kyle." They give each other a nod, a big hand settling at your waist, guiding you inside.

The door clicks closed. You drift listlessly into him, nose at his chest, and breathe deep. He chuckles. "Hey, mama." Your lower belly flutters, rubber band twisting tight until it nearly snaps-

"Hi daddy."

Simon steers you into the bedroom with a palm on your hip, keeping you upright when you tip to the side, the dynamic of your balance hopelessly thrown askew. "Baby?"

"Went down about an hour ago without fuss." He smoothes his hands over your shoulders and down, fingers coming to rest at the top of your dress's square neckline, too full tits tied up with a bow. "How're you feelin'?"

"A little buzzed." Avid desire enflames your skin, tracing a path from the tightening of your nipples down to where your clit throbs, panties already soaked for him.

"Want to take this off?"

"Yes," you hiccup, "please." He raises an eyebrow.

"Maybe you should have some water-"

"No, no." You latch onto his wrist and pull, though all it does is bring you closer, like being on the losing end of tug-o-war, but he holds you steady, close, like always. There's orange nectar and pear spritzed prosecco on your tongue, and you press closer, voracious want crawling up your spine, overtaking your movements. The alcohol makes you bold, a trigger you've been waiting for since he's come home. One you've not been able to pull. He's curved over you, and you flex onto your tiptoes to lay your forehead against his. "P-please... take it off."

Your dress disappears quickly, leaving you standing in front of him in a pair of pale blue panties, and a bra from before you pregnant, one you tried to cram yourself into and mostly failed. Your breasts spill over the top, sore and aching since Orion hasn't fed for hours, Simon's nose skimming down your neck as he unlatches the clasp in the back. You whimper when they fall free. "Poor thing." He coos, with both in his hands, thumbs tickling over your nipples, and walks you backwards to the bed, knees hinging when you hit the corner of the mattress, body and soul turning to liquid as he lays you on your back. His eyes are dark, deep wells of longing, hungrily sweeping over the length of your body before he succumbs with a long kiss, one that drifts down, across your collarbone and to your breast, teasing around your nipple, tugging your panties to the side at the same time.

"Simon," you squirm, chasing him, desperate against his slow pace, babbling pleas filling the air. "Daddy-"

"Shhh. Easy, mama." You're soaked, can feel the heaviness of it slicked on your thighs, dewy drops damp in your curls. He swipes, circling your clit, sliding down to your hole and back up, exploring, ruining, mouth closing around your nipple as he pushes a finger deep, groaning into your flesh.

"Oh my god, oh, fuck-" you gasp. It's foreign, feeling a piece of him back inside you after so long, the breadth of his finger more than you were expecting, slowly working you open until there are two. Your head spins, delirious yet singularly focused, overwhelmed by the combination of him sucking at you and stroking inside you. It's taboo, this affliction, this satisfaction of him pulling your milk free, soothing the ache of your fullness, but you don't have a mind to care. Never have. The relief is overwhelming, tight coils building your muscles, and he dribbles some across your chest as he moves to the next, ministrations expert. You spill into his mouth, warmth dripping from the corners of his lips, his free hand squeezing, trying to milk every last drop free.

"Can't get over how good you taste, honey." You tuck your fingers into the waistline of his jeans, trying to pull him out, fumbling with his button, his zipper, until he dwarfs your hand with his, pressing your palm against the heavy hardness of his cock. "Need you to be sober for it," he murmurs gently, "want you to remember, when you take it, when I fill you up again." You gulp, your body screams. You want it now, want him inside you, but instinctively know he won't budge. He rears back, tapping your calf, "heels on the edge of the bed, mama," and sucks in a breath as he parts your knees. "Ruined your panties, sweet girl. Lift up for me." They disappear, tossed away into a dark corner of the room, and he gets to his knees. You almost close yours, want to close yours, suddenly self conscious knowing he's at eye level, seeing everything, but he chases the thought from your mind when his mouth finds your clit.

"Oh." It's the only word your brain will produce, buried beneath high pitched moans. He eats like he's starved, two fingers finding their place again, tongue flicking against your bud with a near violent pace.

"Sweet everywhere, aren't you?" He kisses the words into your cunt, vibrations of the gravel in his voice only kicking you higher, closer to the peak. "So sweet for daddy." You whine, always a little shamed by it, that word, even when you say it yourself. "My perfect girl. Y'gonna cum for me? Clench this little pussy around my fingers?" Pleasure ripples, tightens your muscles until they burn, and he shoves you into it, drags you beneath the rolling waves of an orgasm, hips chasing his tongue, his teeth thighs closing around his head, trapping him, holding him tight.

That's what you do. You hold him tight. Too tight. Hold him like it will keep him here. Keep you from losing him.

He tucks you close after, whispering something in your ear, unintelligible in your dizzied state, limp like a doll. You go easily, abated, as he settles you in beneath the blankets, waking you gently some time later for naproxen and water. You'll have to pump before Orion feeds again, and dump it, but in this moment, the only thing that matter is his chest warm at your back, his fingers tracing circles into your skin. "Sleep, mama."

[muffinpink02]

A Little Cocky A Little Toxic

I was listening to a song when I thought about this. Its a little rushed.

Warnings - smut 18

hopefully i got the right mix of cocky and toxic for you guys @lemontatas @vixwritesagain and may have used your words for inspo vix 😉

@lucyandalexiafan i hope your arse isn't too sore for waiting on this and as always thank you for being my hype girl ❤️

You checked your insta story. 

83 views 

You smirked when you saw the name you had been hoping to see. 

Did you only put it up in hopes that she would see it? 

Maybe. But that was your business. 

But also, like everyone else on your feed you wanted people to know you were out living your best life. 

But she was the only one you cared that saw you were out living your best life. 

It was a picture of you in a club with your friends. It wasn’t anything fancy, just you pouring a bottle of Prosecco into your glass. Leaning forward so your chest was on your show. 

And she saw it. 

You and Jenni weren’t a couple. You just fucked. Good old fashioned fuck buddies. You weren't seeing each other, there were no limits about seeing other people. No rules, no restrictions. But, you maybe had a small, tiny, little fraction of feelings for the girl. 

But that was your business. 

You carried on dancing with your friends. You were having a good night, you noticed you had a few eyes on you. A lot of fuck me eyes, and of course you was tempted, it would have been easy to let one of the girls drag you into the bathroom stalls and fuck you, or even gone home with one of them to have a night of hopefully good sex. 

But you were hoping the eyes on your story might do that. 

You reposted your friend's story that you wee in. It was a sign of the club, the neon lights glowing red on the wall above you. You were beneath it, a girl you had met on the dance floor was leaning close to you, her hand on your waist. The picture had caught you looking at her mouth, smirking wickedly, as your own lip was between your teeth. 

It even surprised you how the picture caught a very intimate looking moment. Your eyes had the look of the “come fuck me” stare. But you would blame that on the alcohol. 

Within seconds you already had 3 views. 

One of them was her. 

You felt the stupid butterflies in your stomach. So you took a tequila shot to drown them. 

“Would you like another one?” 

You turned to see a tall red headed girl with curly hair. Her eyes were so green they almost reminded you of hers, almost.

“Only if you’ll take one with me.” You grinned. 

She smiled, you eyed the dimples in her cheeks. She was cute, but also really fucking hot.

“That was the plan.” She eyed you up and down. Her green eyes lingered on your chest. 

She had more plans than just drinking. 

“Do you wanna do it the fun way?” She shouted over the music. 

“What’s the fun way?” You asked, leaning in.

She leaned into your ear, her flowery perfume engulfed your senses. 

“I put the salt on your neck. Lick it off. Then take my shot.” Her lips grazed your ear, you felt your nipples strain against your top.

“Yeah, okay.” You smiled at her, even though she was cute and innocent looking she had an air of cockiness to her. Just like someone else you knew, but it wasn't the same.

“You go first. Show me how it's done.” You laughed as she raised her eyebrows playfully.

The shots were placed in front of you, with the lime and salt.  

“Ready?” 

You nodded, you could feel your heart going a little. 

“So, you mind if I?” She pointed to your neck. 

“Oh yeah, it’s all yours.” You giggled. 

The red headed girl nearly faltered for a second. 

Jenni never faltered. 

She pushed your hair back, and licked your neck. Her tongue was soft as it dragged across your skin. You felt your skin erupt in goosebumps from her touch. You felt the grain of salt be poured on your neck, small grains dropping down your chest. 

She leaned into you, her lips wrapped around your neck as she sucked the salt of your body. It surprised you how soft she was. You were expecting some teeth or her lips to leave a red mark. Your eyes closed as her tongue sweetly caressed your skin. You couldn’t deny it felt good, your nipples straining once more. 

She pulled back, this time her green eyes did catch the bumps beneath the fabric. She smirked but it was an innocent smirk, almost like she was apologising for how your body reacted to her. 

She drank her shot, wincing at the drink like she had never taken it before. She sucked on her lime.

“Okay, your turn.”

You smiled, you gently  threaded your fingers in her curly red hair and tilted her head back. Even with the loud music you heard her shy gulp. 

You laid your tongue on her neck and gilded it slowly up to her jaw. You sprinkled the salt all while your hand was still holding her hair. 

“Ready?” You whispered. 

You pecked her neck before sucking the salt off her neck. You heard a small gasp escape her mouth. Like her, you weren't rough, you just let the salty substance sit on your tongue as you felt her pulse point beat against it. 

You moved back, drinking your shot without blinking and sucked on your lime.  

“Wow, erm. That was hot.” She laughed awkwardly. 

You smiled as you removed a lime seed from your mouth. 

One of your very drunk friends grabbed your hand. Clearly not caring that she was interrupting you. 

“It’s our song!!” She shouted. “Come on!” She slurred as she jumped. 

You looked at the red head, she was smiling at the happy girl in front of you. 

“Sorry. I’ll be right back.” You winced. 

“No, don’t worry! I’ll find you in a bit?” 

“Definitely.” You smiled before you were dragged into the floor of sweaty bodies dancing. 

It was half an hour later when you felt your phone vibrate. 

You saw a notification of an insta post you were in, but it was the message that caught your attention.

Jenni - having fun? 

You felt those butterflies coming back. Should you reply? No, leave it for a bit, don’t let her know you’ve even seen it, or that you care. 

Your fingers started tapping.

You - lots. You? 

She didn’t reply for another 20 minutes. 

Jenni - I’m outside 

Your heart fluttered as you read the words.  

You looked around the room as if she could see you, not wanting her to see the excitement on your face. Of course you weren't going to just drop your friends and leave the club. 

But she was outside, it would be rude not to say hello. You could just go say hi and come back. 

Simple.

You stepped out into the cool air, watching as other party goers jumped into their Ubers. 

You spotted her car, once again feeling stupidly excited that she came all this way to see you. You walked over to the vehicle, her window rolled down, revealing her wolfish grin.

Those fucking butterflies. 

“Hey.” You whispered. 

“Hola.” She winked, you could hear her music playing in the car.

“So, what you doing here?” You nervously played with your skirt. 

She watched your nervous movements, smiling as she chewed on her gum. 

“I was in the area. Saw you was here. Saw you were taking shots.” 

You were confused then. Taking shots?”

“What?” You forced a chuckle.

“I saw it on Mapi’s story. I saw you taking shots with a friend.” Her tone dipped when she said the word friend. 

That must have been the notification you ignored. 

“Oh right.” You mindlessly touched your neck where the redhead had her lips an hour before. 

Jenni’s green eyes roamed your body, she made you feel naked with how her orbs burned your skin. You felt yourself shiver. 

“Cold?” Jenni smirked.

“Ohh, a little.” You darted your eyes to the floor. Your cockiness from earlier had all but disappeared. 

“Want to get in? It’s warm in my car.” She gave you that smile that meant more than what she was really saying. 

You knew If you got in the car you wouldn’t be going back to the club. 

You wordlessly walked to the passenger side, sliding into the leather seat. Jennis' woody perfume shot through your senses. 

“Better?” She smirked as she put the car in gear. 

“Yeah.” You nodded. 

You watched Jenni eye up a couple of pretty girls walking out the club. One of the girls must have caught Jenni staring, you could see her blush from where you sat in your passenger seat. Jenni smiled at her, probably giving her the same smile she gave you.

Jenni turned up her music as she revved her car, getting the attention of the girls she had been staring at. She chuckled as one of them giggled like a schoolgirl. You rolled your eyes.

That's when you realised you never got the pretty redhead's name.

You could feel the raven haired girl's eyes on you. 

“Did you not have fun, cariño?”

You blushed at the cute name, trying desperately to hide your smile. “Yeah? Why?”

She shrugged, not looking at you. One hand on the wheel, the other had just found itself on your bare thigh.

“You left so quickly. Can’t imagine you were having that much fun.”  She gave you that cocky smile that normally made you smile, but her question made you stutter.

“N-No. I was having fun, lots of fun. I just wanted to say hello to you.” 

She smirked. “Do you want me to drop you back there?-”

“No! …Erm no.” Fuck sake. You closed your eyes in annoyance at yourself. 

“No? So I'll keep driving?” She chuckled lightly.

“Yeah, I don’t mind where we go.” You shrugged, trying your hardest to not like you cared.

“You look good, by the way.” Her hand squeezed your thigh. 

Butterflies. Wet butterflies.

“Thank you.” You tucked your hair behind your ear, watching her arm flex as she moved the gear stick.

“So who was your friend in Mapi’s story?” She asked, looking back at the road.

No fucking way. Was Jenni actually jealous? She had never questioned you on any other girl before. Never questioned if you were seeing anyone, but here she was, picking you up outside the club because she was ‘In the area’ and asking who you were with.

You loved the thought of her being jealous.

“She’s no one. Just someone I met. Why?” 

She shrugged again, her eyes fixed on the road. “No reason.” Her tone was steady.

You nodded, not giving away your selfish enjoyment that the girl was in fact jealous. 

“Not jealous are you, Jenni?”

The girl laughed, she finally looked at you. Her green eyes shone as a street light flashed over her face. 

“No, but I did want you when I saw your pictures.” She hummed, her voice low.

You wanted to be annoyed that she wouldn't fess up to even being a little jealous, but hearing Jenni saying she wanted you made you forget your annoyance. 

Feeling Jennis' hand creep up your skirt made you forget your next words. 

Yes, you were a simple girl. Especially when it came to Jenni.

“You wanted me?” You gasped quietly as she ghosted your thongs.

“Si, that little tight skirt you have on. I like it.” 

You felt yourself smile at the complement.

“I want to fuck you with it on.” She said it like she was talking about the nice weather you'd been having.

This was Jenni all over. If she thought she’d shown you any emotion she would turn that conversation around in a quick blink. But you were used to it. This wasn't anything more than a hookup.

So you did what you knew and joined the dance.

“I only wore it for that reason.” You smirked as you stroked your hand on her own thigh. And as soon as you did you couldn't hold back the blush.

“Are you wearing a strap?” 

Her cocky smile appeared again.

“Sí. I told you. I want to fuck you with that skirt on.” She stopped at a red light.

“What one are you wearing?” You began to pull her loose trousers down, revealing the purple plastic.

“Your one.” She winked, chewing on her gum.

Your chest tightened at the comment. You had found out Jenni had a few different straps for different girls, all having their own individual ones. In one sense it was great because you weren't one for sharing a strap with random girls and on the other it was maybe the biggest dickhead energy you had ever seen.

Jenni leaving her house with a harness attached to her hips assuming, no, knowing you would drop everything and leave with her made you feel a little ashamed.

But your thoughts were interrupted as her hand between your legs pulled your thin fabric to the side, pushing her long fingers between your wet folds. 

“Who got you so wet already, bebé?” She purred as she leaned in.

“You.” You whispered, your eyes fluttered as she found your clit. She leaned in, you could smell the mint on her breath.

“So quickly?” She whispered against your lips.

Your hips flexed as she swirled your wetness around between your folds. You were so easy for this girl. So fucking easy. 

“Are we there yet?” You breathed out.

“Nealy.” She leaned back but her hand travelled back between your legs as soon as she could spare it.

10 long minutes later she pulled the car up facing a sky line of lights. It was a pretty spot, you'd been here once before on a first date, but never with Jenni.

It was on top of a hill, but Jenni drove a few feet away from any other cars around. She parked her car up, facing the view.

“Come.” She opened her car door. You followed her.

She walked to the front of her car leaning against the bonnet. Her wolfish smile was on full show. She looked so cocky, everything about her, from her stance to her smile, the way she looked at you. 

And you couldn't help but love it.

You walked over to her, she put her hands out pulling you towards her. You shivered from the night air.

“Here.” Jenni started to take her jacket off, wrapping it around your shoulders. 

You were screaming for joy internally but of course your face didn’t move an inch. 

She brought your mouths together. It was soft and sweet, it felt more intimate than it ever had before. Her hands pulled your hips into hers, making you lean against her. Her finger crept up your stomach, making you whimper just in time for her tongue to find its way into your mouth. She let her hands wander to your arse, squeezing your flesh.

“Do you want to get it ready?” She smirked.

Once again, this was the dance between yourself and Jenni. Of course you wanted to suck her strap while she smiled at you like that. The question alone made your clit throb.

But why had she taken you to a date spot and not to her house like she usually did?

You pulled the strap out of her trousers, kissing her neck as you did. You looked around the spot she had parked, making sure no one was around. You slowly got to your knees and wrapped your lips around the plastic, all while the woman kept her eyes on you.

You knew Jenni liked you in this position. Well, actually she loved you in this position. She had you like this whenever she could, strap or no strap, on your knees, pleasuring her until she was coming in your mouth.

You easily pushed her into the back of your throat.

“Fuck.” She sighed as one of her hands came into your hair, helping you move on her strap.

You felt your cunt already throbbing as your head was gently pushed, taking more of the strap in your throat. Jennis' head tilted back in pleasure as your movements pushed perfectly against her clit.

You felt your thighs becoming uncomfortably wet as the girl above fucked your throat. You began to choke a little as her hips rocked faster, making your eyes water as you tried to take her fast movements. The tears started to roll down your cheeks, your black mascara mixed with the tears, you looked a mess but Jenni smiled wickedly once she saw the sight. 

“Oh no, the pretty girls, getting her pretty make up messed up?” She curved her hands around your face as she wiped the black tears, all while still fucking your mouth.

Her words made you groan.

“You look so good, bebé.” She grunted hard, you started to feel her legs shaking, she was clearly close.

She gripped your hair into a ponytail as her other hand stayed caressing your cheek. The soft touch made you blush more then the plastic fucking your throat did.

“Just like that. Just like that.” Her hips started to stutter. “Fuck. You’re so good. I fucking love…your mouth.”

What? Did she? Did you hear that right?

She groaned above you, small hard little grunts each time her strap hit the back of your throat. She came hard against the strap. Her hand stroked your cheek as she grinded those last bits of pleasure points into your mouth.

She gently pulled out of your mouth, her chest was heaving. She helped you to your feet, her lips crashing into yours.

“Ready to get fucked in that skirt?” She said it with a hunger in her voice.

“Yes.” You gasped as her teeth sunk into your lip. Her kisses became feverish, you could hardly breathe with the way her mouth swallowed each groan and whine. The girl was everywhere. 

You felt your body being turned around to face her car bonnet.

“So, you had a good time tonight?” She whispered against your neck. You lost control over your legs.

“Hmm hmm.” You agreed.

“But you’re having more fun with me, sí?” Her voice almost sounded nervous.

Was this her jealous side coming out again? 

“Y-yeah. So much more fun.” You stuttered as her hands pushed your skirt up, revealing your cheeks.

“Fuck,” She brought her hands up to your cheeks, squeezing the flesh so hard you knew you’d have bruises tomorrow. 

She moved your skirt up around your hips, revealing your cheeks to the cold night air. She pulled the wet thin fabric down to your ankles, helping you step out of them. She tucked them in her back pocket.

Your mind was reeling, her movements were so fucking slow. Your clit was crying for Jennis' touch again, you pushed yourself backwards, trying to show how desperate you were. 

“You’re so worked up. I don’t believe it’s only been me to get you this turned on, baby.”

You would be lying if you said the redhead didn’t turn you on. But what did it matter? Jenni wasn’t your girlfriend. 

“Maybe you’re not.” 

You felt her pause in her movements, it was a first for you. 

“Hmm, is that right?” Jenni wrapped her hand around the back of your neck, guiding you forwards. You felt the head of the strap kiss your wet lips. 

“Fuck!” You gasped as the 5.9 pushed you against the bonnet of her car, her hips holding you down. 

A whole new rush of wetness leaked between your lips. 

“But I’m the one who has you now.” She easily pushed her strap inside your tight walls, unfazed by your height pitched moan. 

You were so full. 

You didn’t even catch her words, or the jealousy in her tone. Your brain was trying to get used to the girth the plastic that made room for itself inside you. 

“Jesus!” You cried out as Jenni snapped her hips, her pace was already so fast, you weren't going to last long. She gripped your hips, forcing you to take more of the strap, pulling you down on the length. 

“You’re so tight. Have you not been fucked since me?” She smirked, she knew the answer.

“No-no!” You stuttered as she slapped her hips against your thighs. 

“Just me, only I get to fuck this pussy, Sí?”

“Yes!” You didn’t really know or care what she was saying, all you could think about was how her hips were forcing your body down on the bonnet, the weight of her body making it hard to move as she made you take every thrust. 

“You’re a slut for me. Aren’t you?” 

You whimpered, the wet slapping from your cunt was so loud. 

“Yes! A massive slut for you Jenni!” Your words echoed in the quiet area around you. 

Your pussy was throbbing, you could feel your climax rising up your body, the swell of those butterflies rushed from your stomach to your clit. 

“Say it again.” She growled from behind you. 

You didn’t think it was possible, but her pace picked up. Your skin was being slapped from every thrust, you could feel your essence dripping down your clenched thighs. 

“I’m a massive slut for you Jenni!” You moaned out as she grabbed a handful of your hair, forcing your head back, arching your back. 

“Dont fucking forget it!” 

You couldn’t physically make any noise as the girl rammed her strap so hard into your core, you lost all ability to breathe. You imagined the site was incredible for Jennis' ego. Your body being pressed against her car as the cocky Spaniard had you calling you her slut. 

Your cheeks bouncing as she watched her strap slide into you like she owned you. Your once neat hair, now a mess in her grasp. And your pretty makeup, completely ruined. 

All for her. 

Your cunt clenched as you came around the purple strap. You weren't sure if you were loud or made any kind of noise, all you could hear was the blood rushing in your head. The pleasure taking over your body 

She silently pulled out and left you to pull your own skirt down. 

You heard the car door open and followed her back into the car. 

“Did you want me to drop you back to the club?” 

“No, just take me home.” 

It was silent. She put her music back on. 

You looked down at your lap, you had dirty knees from your kneeling position, black stained tears dried into your cheeks, and no underwear. You felt stupid.

She pulled up outside your apartment. 

“I’ll see you soon?” Her green eyes looked sad.

You nodded. “Yeah.”

You opened the car door, your chest felt tight again. 

“Wait.”

Your turned to her, those small butterflies coming back. Hopeful. 

“My jacket.” She awkwardly smiled at you. 

“Oh. Sorry.” You took off her jacket that was 2 sizes too big for you. Her woofy perfume still sat on your skin. 

“Thanks.” 

You climbed out the car, she pulled off quickly, not giving you another glance. You felt the tears threatening to spill, but you pushed it back. 

This was the dance with Jenni.

[ventique18]

Warning: crude language

🐉🌸♀️ but he turns into a child due to a magical accident. Back to his little dragon form so his actual baby actively tries to destroy him because the boy thinks he's a diabolical stranger trying to steal his place in the family.

🐉, in dragon tongue: "What are you doing?! Stop trying to rip my tail off! I am your father!"

🐉🍼: "Villain! What did you do to papa?! Are you trying to steal mama too? I'm going to destroy you, motherfucker!"

🐉: "Motherfu-- WHERE DID YOU LEARN SUCH A HORRID LANGUAGE? And indeed I am quite literally your mother's fucker, FOR I AM YOUR FATHER."

🐉🍼: *Tries to bite his horn off his head* How dare you fuck my mama! I'm going to kill you!" <- He thought fuck meant hit

🐉, pushing him away with a paw: "Well you wouldn't be alive otherwise, utter fool! And you are no longer allowed to watch YuuTube for a hundred years! I swear on my name once I return to my proper form--"

His baby goes complete fury mode and starts snapping his muzzle at every part of his body he could sink his teeth into. He could only dodge in response. His toddler instinct is taking over. He wants to cry. He's so frustrated and he wants to fight back against this utter injustice so badly, but what little is left of his adult sanity is telling him that he would've failed as a person if he gave in.

🌸, picking him up gently: "I just went to the restroom for a minute and you're already fighting? Baby, stop bullying your dad. You know he's sensitive. What if you break his poor little heart and he cries himself to sleep?"

🐉: "I am not sensitive! I do not cry!"

Of course she can't understand him, though.

🐉🍼: "That's not papa! Papa's not as weak as this fraud!"

Fraud! Weak! This nasty little--

🐉: "Silence! If I were not hindered by morality, I would have burned you to a crisp--"

🌸: "Aww, you're sobbing."

🌸, rubbing his back soothingly: "Are you sleepy? Are you hungry? Want some milk?"

Yes, yes... A warm glass of milk will really-- NO!

🐉: "I am not a child! You of all people should--"

His complaints, which she thinks is an anguished cry of hunger, are muffled by her shoving a bottle-- a baby bottle complete with a silicone nipple, into his mouth.

Thank the seven Silver and Sebek barged in just in time before his wretched baby instinct could take over and convince him to discard his pride and feed.

When he reverts back to his original form, he gets back at his son by making a beautiful batch of nuggets and slowly eating it in front of the boy, without offering him one. Until his wretched father instincts took over and he ends up hand-feeding him some while watching that ridiculous Bluey cartoon on the TV with him.

He still hasn't finalized a rightful punishment for his wife for humiliating him with a bottle of milk, however. But oh, what terrific ideas he's coming up with.

[signoferoda]

THAT 4AM CRY - HS

Summary: Harry’s daughter has a set routine when it comes to her night time feed

That 4am newborn cry is like clockwork, it happened every night for the past two weeks. It was amusing actually as Harry blinked his sleep away, the glow of the alarm clock making him chuckle, exactly on the dot.

Novies weak cries echoed through the room, not appreciating having to wait for her milk. Y/n adjusts beneath the covers, drawing Harry’s attention, she snuggled into the pillow, her mouth hung open. He could see the exhaustion even as she slept and it had him springing from the mattress, padding over to the bassinet that stood adjacent to their king bed.

“it’s alright lovie” Harry cooes, scooping Novie into his arms and cradling her to his chest making sure to support her head with his palm. He was a pro at it now; having had 3 babies already, he aced the dad hold. No longer scared about his touch being too strong.

“Daddy’s here” Harry’s voice was soft and gentle as he looked over his shoulder to y/n, making sure she’s still asleep. She was so Harry quickly left the room, gently closing the door with his foot as he headed downstairs and away from his sleeping wife and 3 sons. He couldn’t risk waking any of them up, he could handle a late night/early morning feed.

“Now don’t be mad at daddy, but you’ll have to take a bottle alright?” He spoke as he padded down the stairs softly, being extra careful with his steps. “I know you prefer it from the real thing but mummy deserves a little break don’t you think?” Listening to her fathers gentle voice, Novies cries softened and eventually came to an end. She cooed up at her dad, absolutely melting her old man’s heart. Harry couldn’t stop himself from pressing a gentle kiss to his baby girls forehead. He smiled, walking into the kitchen and flicking the lights on before heading to the fridge to grab the pre-pumped milk and popping it into the microwave.

Once it was done, he checked that the milk wasn’t too hot before walking to the lounge and plopping down onto the couch. He slowly fed the nipple into Novies mouth but she rejected it, crying a little making Harry sigh.

“Come on little love, I promise it’s mummy’s milk” he tried again but Novies chubby little hands tried her best to push the bottle away. “Novie bear, listen to daddy. Drink this and then you can have the boob in the morning. Deal? I really don’t want to have to wake up mummy hun, she’s real tired” his thumb circled her cheek, “come on lovie, drink up for me?”

By some miracle she did and Harry swore his baby was a genius who could already understand every word he spoke.

It took a while for Novie to finish drinking, but once she was done Harry was kick to burp her before he headed back upstairs. Novie passed out in his arms, her pouty lips smacking together in satisfaction. He kisses her chubby cheeks before placing her back in her bassinet and climbing into bed.

Although he was being quiet, he underestimated the beds movement as he climbed in and cringed into his pillow when he sees y/n stir, then open her eyes. Harry watches as she jolts up, looking over at the baby.

“I didn’t feed her” she whisper shouts, as she looked at the beaming red light of their alarm clock, it was nearly 5am.

He had to hold back a laugh at the way her boobs were spilling out of her tank top and the way her hair was all over the place, "I fed her love."

Y/ns eyes widen as she fixes her tank top, "she took a bottle?”

"Like a champ”

"You could’ve woken me up. I know she can get fussy”

“It’s all handled mama” Harry whispered, pulling y/n down towards him. He lays a soft kiss to her head. “Go back to sleep” it would take more convincing normally but y/n was beyond exhausted so it was all she needed to settle back down and cuddle into her husband.

[pedge-page]

Mother Who Indulges

Joel Miller x F! Reader

Summary: Joel’s found other means to get his favorite snack. But he’s bad at hiding the evidence taking form on his own body.

Can be read as sequel to Mother Who Provides or on its own.

Warnings: Fat!Joel, Sub! Joel, breastfeeding, lactation kink, feedee/feeder, burping, belly worship, belly button licking, gluttony, riding, vaginial fingering, m! Masturbation, forced feeding, hands free ejaculation, unprotected sex, breeding kink, cream pie, switch dynamic at the end, Mommy and brief Daddy kink, nipple play for Joel, derogatory names such as cow or hog (towards Joel)

18+ ONLY

- - - -

Your husband was never a closet eater. 

Joel was someone who enjoyed food in the company of others. Never saw it as anything more than fuel for the body, only ate when he needed it. Sure, he wouldn’t turn down a soda and a bag of chips every blue moon, but the amount of physical labor he does at his job always combats any minimal amount of snacking he does. He’s always been in perfect, lovable shape. Not shredded abs by any means, but he had just the right strength to carry you bridal style, just the right softness to cuddle up against him like a warm pillow.

Or at least, he used to.

You started to notice it after the 6 month mark of brining your baby home. As you very slowly lost a few pounds of post partum weight, Joel seemingly started to gain them—a couple dozen of them. And it was … odd. 

He didn’t go out to eat—the man preferred a home cook meal and saving a few bucks where he could. There also weren’t any suspicious amounts of extra processed snacks coming into the house. And it’s not like Joel was slacking off on the construction site by any means. And yet, you noticed it when he started huffing just to get his once baggy jeans over his thickened belly. Or the way his shirts stretched a little tighter over his chest. Or the extra grunts after any regular amount of food. 

The only real change was that 10-month old Sarah had started refusing pre-bagged bottle milk. The little thing ONLY wanted mama’s nana’s straight from the tap. And that meant Joel’s little breastfeeding habits had to go on pause so that your baby would actually eat.

“Picky little thing,” he grumbled with folded arms as your baby sucked away happily at your breasts, all wrapped up snugly in your arms. You could see the distain in his face—the idea that Sarah was no longer going to “share” your perky tits and even more delectable breastmilk. You were a full blown cow utter live and on demand when Sarah needed it.

You only laugh. “It’s all meant for the baby anyway. Besides, you got more than enough fill, right?”

He didn’t exactly answer you that night. Just grunted and walked away. You thought that was the end of it.

Until one night: half asleep and feeling an incredibly soreness in your breasts. It felt hot, wet, and heavy like a sack of potatoes sitting atop your chest, with a leach on the end of it. Though, you did notice they gradually felt lighter, which is strange. You always filled with milk over night. Groaning, your nipples felt twisty, sore as hell. Groggily you reach under the covers—God, why are they so hard and big? I can’t even feel it … oh, oh no. why it is hairy? And there’s growling coming from below.

 Panic ensures, fear that you’re turning into some hairy wolf beast stuck in a dream, becoming misshaped and hideous and—

You wake up fully and toss the covers off, revealing your husband who’s latched on to your tit, suckling the milk like in second heaven.

You stare down at him disappointingly. Joel only just realizes he’s been caught, your nip falling from his mouth with suctioned pop, as cream pours from his lips. Caught red handed.

“Um….sorry. Was hungry.”

You wack his head hard several times, enunciating, “That-is-for-the-baby!”

“Okay okay!”

“Do you do this often when I’m asleep?”

Joel shifts up slightly, staring down at your teeth ridden mounds. He clears his throat guiltily. “…No...”

He got an earful, and you were careful to make sure he didn’t try sneaking Sarah’s breakfast off of you in the early morning again. 

And that seemed like the end of it. He never brought it up or complained again.

And yet, the man was still gaining weight like nobody’s business…

-

Joel doesn’t like sneaking around his wife. 

Realistically, he should have been losing weight, what with the extra snack of your milk each night he could enjoy now entirely off the menu. He should have not been too indulgent either, as you may have noticed his... physical difference. In fact, he was surprised it didn’t really dawn on you, where all those extra pounds on your hubby are coming from.

Joel tiptoes down to the kitchen in the late night, far after you’re lightly snoring. He makes sure not to hit the pressure sensitive creaky floorboards too. Honestly, even with the extra weight, he’s pretty good at slinky-ing around. 

But his eagerness is getting the best of him. Rumbling through his body despite the slowness in his pace. He waits all day for this moment and can’t rush it now.

He cracks open the fridge, the light illuminating the dark kitchen as he briefly scans behind him again for any signs of movement. When the area is secure, he turn back. He’s so excited, goosebumps riveting his skin. Bubbles gurgling in his stomach. He’s become gluttonous, no doubt. But when you get that high, it’s hard to just quit cold turkey. 

Reaching behind the beer bottles, carefully laid under a foil wrap of steak, is his most prized possession of the late night endeavors: that extra sum of frozen baggies of your breastmilk in the freezer that you gracious kept saved and that his even more gracious baby now refuses to drink. To his luck, you must have mentally completely forgotten about them. He always pulls three each night and lets them thaw in their hidden place in the refrigerator, waiting all day for this exact moment.

His obtuse stomach rumbles. Joel typically wears a buttoned sleep shirt as of late since it was the only thing that fit him to bed. But now the bottom few buttons had torn off, leaving his fat gut rounded and hanging out. 

The hungry man licks his lips as he tears open the first buoyant bag of cream, his lips quivering when that first scent hits his nose. “Ah—oh fuck yeah. That’s the good stuff,” he groans, but quickly softens his voice again, remembering he can’t get caught on his indulgence.

He hastily dips a fat finger into the milk and swirls it before pushing past his lips. Joel closes his eyes, humming loudly as the taste of your fine breastmilk invade his buds, travel through his electrical signals to his brain that then releases pleasure throughout his entire body. He moans around his digit, sucking every little drop until he’s close to gnawing his finger off. Then he releases with a pop and grins, dipping two more fingers and scooping it out messily. Tilting back to drink the second helping. It drips down his palm, and he’s quick to suckle it up. None can be wasted.

He suppresses a slight burp. His large stomach screaming for more, for what he came he for. Joel tilts the baggie back over his head, leaning back and drinks the entire contents. Audible gulp after gulp, the sweet taste of milk fills his tongue and travels to his happy belly. All while his other wondering hand roams over the thick, stretched flesh, right over his belly button, jiggling the heavy underside of lard. God he feels so good like this. Getting gorged out on your milk, feeling so full and fulfilled from it. 

He wags the bag once the last few drops are struggling to pour, sticking his tongue out like a dog. Heat spreads from his core down to his loins. Joel grips his hardened length over his soft pj shorts. He can’t help it. He once had prime seat to your lap, drinking straight from your tits whenever he felt like it while you jerked him off. Now reduced to palming his hard-on while lapping at your bagged milk by himself in the dark late of night.

 The first bag never lasts. He makes sure to lick any remnant on his lips, squeezing his belly and groan with a pathetic whimper. He needs more. He always needs more. Thankfully there are two more bags for tonight, but fuck he could drink 300 right now and still never be full. 

His shirt stretches tightly over his chest, and he decides to unbutton the top few stained buttons. His puffy chest bursts through the fabric like a damn. Now fully free, the silk material hanging forgotten and obscured by his massive figure, Joel can now take more enjoyment out of tearing into the next bag and downing it even faster than the first.

He huffs out, breathing for the first time after slurping the entire bag in one go. Rubbing faster up and down his stiff cock. Shit, he’s gonna cum. Feels so euphoric having his tip bump against the lower hang of his pooch. The fat tip meeting his even fatter tummy. 

And your taste. That’s what sends him over every night. Has him cumming in his sleep shorts by the time he’s finished the third bag. Joel grunts, lifting his stomach from the underside so his other hand can palm his swollen dick. “Momma’s got the best milk,” he hums to himself, eyes closed in bliss. “Oh fuck fuck fuck, fuck yeah, I’m—I’m gonna—!”

“So!”

Joel swings around, crashing his body into the open refrigerator door, spilling his precious milk all over his tits and belly. Only to be met with you, your arms folded over your  chest, spaghetti silk nightgown adorning your figure and a knowing smirk on your face.

“So this is where you’ve been getting your little extra snacks.”

He’s speechless, caught and cornered with no where to go. His mouth opens, but no words leave, like a gaping fish out of water.

“Nothing to say, Joel?” You ask with a tilt of your head.

“I—its—“ he casts down at his belly sadly. God, he looks pathetic now. Cock rock hard and stabbing through his pants, and belly flush out like a pig at a buffet. You must think he’s disgusting like this. “I…I missed your milk, baby,” he says solemnly. “Got carried away, I guess.” 

Instead of the scolding he expects, you walk up to him quietly and bring his eyes to yours. Taking the bag of half drank breastmilk, he acquiesces and lets you. 

To his surprise, you hold it up slightly to mouth level for him. “Looks like you’re not finished yet, honey.” 

Joel stares at you, confused. But when you start palming his erection, gliding your hand up and around his belly with a swirling ticklish finger before brushing back down to his dick, he doesn’t have any braincells left. You push the bag forward and his jaw drops open once again, feeding him. With you at the control, he gulps quickly, afraid to lose any as you pour the entire contents at once. He sputters a moment when the bag is empty, too caught up on the pleasurable heat spreading in his crotch and core again. You kiss his lips, the sweet taste making you realize how difficult it must have been for him to give something so delightful up.

“Mmmm, that’s better?”

“Ah—oh—oh-yeah-so good baby-shit-“ he groans as you continue your ministrations on his member. With two hands, you hoist the underside of his enlarged middle, bouncing it up and down. 

“Oh, Joel,” you tsk. “So light. So empty! We’re not done yet big boy. Not even close.”

-

 They say there’s such a thing as too much of a good thing.

But as for Joel, stripped naked and sitting his fat ass on the couch, gorging on the funneled tube that’s been cascading a mix of whole and breastmilk into his stomach, he can confidently say that saying doesn’t apply here.

His finishes a big gulp before pulling the nozzle away, letting out a massive burp. As he grips the side of his belly, the rolls on his side multiplying before his vary eyes and skin stretching like a taught balloon, he’s never felt so full in his life. 

And it feels fucking amazing. 

He’s never felt so guilt-free, so perfectly enlightened and fully allowing himself to feel pleasure like to this level. 

“You full yet?” You coo. You’re standing next to him by the cough, a gallon of mixed milk partially full in one hand as you check on your gluttonous husband.

He shakes his head, devious and energized. “Hit me again, baby!” He puts the nozzle back in his mouth and rests the back of his head on the couch headrest again.

You chuckle but does as he says, pouring the jug into the large funnel. He can’t wait fast enough for the milk to force its way through the tube and finally squirts onto his tongue again.

“That’s my good boy. Mommy loves filling you up with her milk. No need to hide it from me any more baby. You keep drinking and drinking until you’re full.”

With one hand splayed over his belly button, physically feeling his gut fill past its maximum, he gets a quick glance at you. The way you giddily grin, eyeing him up and down in his fattened state like a delicious piece of steak. He’s never felt so sexy in his life.

His cock feels it too. Reddened and swollen beyond belief. curved against the swell of his belly leaving a sticky trail where his precum keeps nudging along. Though, with how much he’s packing into his stomach, he’s struggling more and more to be able to fully grasp his cock and jerk it with the mean pumps he usually does. Joel was the type of masturbator to grip his base with one hand while the other beats his meat like a car engine. His arms still retained their muscled strength, but everywhere else was starting to fill in. Now, he can only get one hand down there to gently tug on it. 

“Poor baby, got you so fat you can basely touch that little dick?” You tease. Though at the sheer size of him, Joel Miller’s cock is anything but ‘little.’ In fact, it’s even more imposing now, like somehow he added a few extra pounds onto his mini me as well to keep the proportions the same. 

“S’not little. I can—oh fuck—still reach jus’ fine.”

Another burp billows up his throat, and he just gets the tube out of his mouth to let it out. Hell, he can barely move. The amount of effort just to sit upright again makes him bounce his whole body, the fat moving at a slower pace. Fuck, even when he can’t fully jerk his cock like he used to, the pressure of his belly on top of his tip, smushing his balls into the couch feels heavenly. Especially when he bounces and rocks back and forth slightly. Friction doing its thing and grinding his sack between his big thighs. 

“Baby,” he gasps. “M so full of you.” He peers up to you with heart, drunken full pupils as he jiggles his belly. “M’ so packed tight. So much Mommy’s milk.” One finger trails up the fold under his pec, now swollen like a breast himself, before pinching and rolling his nips between his calloused fingers.

“Yeah? Let Mommy feel.” You press your palm over his chest, down to his belly that protrudes so far out. Despite being squishy earlier this night, his stomach is indeed bursting to its limit. Hardened just as yours was right before giving birth. 

“Aww, oh Joel…” you squeeze your thumb into his belly button and grip the lower half before jiggling it roughly. He gasps and pushes him belly out further for you, rocking his hips best he can into the air. “You really are full baby, huh? Greedy greedy piggy.”

“Mhm,” he hums with a pout, licking his lips. “Momma’s fat fuckin’ gluttonous hog. ‘At’s me.”

You prop the funnel up on a coat hook before sliding down to your knees in front of your husband. He leans as far forward as possible to be able to see all over you between his chunky legs, parted to let you breathe against his tummy that’s right up against your face.

You gently caress his sides along the rounded shape, holding his middle in your hands. You’re so soft against him, so loving and careful. He feels no different right now than when he used to be able to lie on your lap and feed from your tit. It’s been so long since then, and he realizes now this is the feeling he’d been chasing bag after bag all this time.

Your soft cheek presses into his skin there, making him sigh relaxed. 

He’s getting lost in the feeling of you on him, but you need to keep him on track.

“Keep drinking. You’ve got 2 more gallons.” You point towards the table where more mixed milk sits, and Joel settles up and begins gulping his cream again.

He moans, cock twitching against your chest as your tongue swirls around his belly button, dipping inside slightly. The hairs around his happy trail feel soft as you stroke along his naval. You can hear the little sloshing of liquid inside him each time you plant a wet kiss against his skin, making out with his gorged stomach. 

The weeping end of his length bobs painfully each time you brush it. You notice he’s glancing down at you playing with him, while he continues to swallow big batches down his throat. “You want me to take care of your little problem?”

He nods pitifully. 

“Not until you’re done.” You smile, standing up and gripping his belly harshly. He grunts but doesn’t release the bottled end, sucking more milk as you slap his belly repeatedly. Watching it wobble from the sheer effort and taking a moment to settle before you slap it again. Each time he whimpers but pushes it out more, asking for another.

“Greedy“—slap—“fat“—slap—“Milk hungry“—slap—“whore.”

You squeeze his plush tit, no bigger than an A cup but still, the man had nothing there before. He grunts and eyes you, dark and pleading. “Holy fuck, You’ve even got such cute cow titties Joel.” You giggle, rolling his perked nipples under you thumb while cupping the rest of the fat pooling there. “Wouldn’t that be something? Squeezing milk from your own tits?” You place your mouth on his pecs and begin suckling like the tip of his cock. Joel tosses his head back, milk spilling from his cheeks as he howls in pleasure. 

“Oh fuck Momma that’s it—keep sucking my fat tits—christ. Fuck—fuckFUCK!” One hand caresses your hair as he whines, “I Love you.”

“I love you too. How are we doing?” You gesture to the funnel.

He tilts it upside down. “All out,” he says with a grimace.

“Good. On your knees.”

You grab his chubby hands and hoist him up, the two of you laughing when he fails after the first attempt.

When he does get to his feet, you cup his face with both hands and kiss him. “You look so fucking sexy, Joel Miller.” 

You brush his fingers under your thigh, between your slit. “Oh—shit—so fuckin’ wet,” he whispers, rubbing your slicked walls with his meaty fingers.

 Pressing your cunt against his crotch, your belly collides with his, creating the perfect friction on your clit. “I want you bigger than me when you knock me up with twins next.”

He grits his teeth and hisses against your lips. The mental image doing a whirlwind on him. You chuck two pillows to the ground for him comfort. With a big thud, he gets to one knee on the plush, then the other, arms flailing forward and hands plastered on the ground to hold his weight. His belly sags so heavily, causing him to groan. the compressed tip is damn near toughing the floorboards even as he holds cow position. 

He stares up back up at you, soft big moo moo eyes getting eager when you grab the funnel and uncap another jug.

 He used to marvel at how much pregnancy changed you. At how he changed you. Your body growing round with child, a child he put inside you, and then your tits swelling up with milk, all because of him.

And now he’s changing physically because of you too. His body filling with fat, engorged from your abundant lactation that you’re feeding him.

He sticks his tongue out without a single word, sucking in the nozzle and guzzling the milk funneling through again. 

He downs this one fast and hard, pushing away with a big sigh. “Christ, I can’t do it. MN’gonna fuckin’ explode.”

You crouch down to see his convex stomach. It’s perfectly rounded and bulging like a moon. 

He shivers when you cup the underside and glide up along, feeling how smoothed over from so much filling him. “Touch it, please touch it baby. Gonna go crazy if ya don’t.”

You watch as his eyes squeeze shut, his swaying back and forth like he’s trying to get his belly to hump his dick, or maybe the other way around. He’s helpless in this position by his own doing. 

“Aww, has my big boy had enough? No more Mommy’s milk?”

He shakes his head painfully. “More,” he croaks. God, his body is screaming no. he’s never felt so ready to turn into an atom bomb, and yet his intoxicated brain knows if he can’t down the last of this gallon, you’ll never give him the full on tap again.

Joel snatches the tunnel again, balancing on one hand briefly as he wraps his tongue around and drinks yet again. Gulp after gulp, the sweet liquid bulges in his esophagus before traveling down to his mighty belly. You kiss his cheek and hold the nozzle to his face, forcing it to stay. “Almost there, Joel, drink it to the last drop, and then you’ll get your reward…” you not so subtly squeeze your breasts together, and that does it for him.

He spits out the nozzle and falls head first to the ground, back arched as much as possible as his tummy smushes into the hardwood. With a howl, his hips jerk forward into his fat middle, suffocating the tip and he starts cumming untouched. “Oh-ah-ahaugghhh-yeah—yeah!” He hums, cheek pressed into the ground and drool and milk spilling from those sinful lips along with a litany of sexy, satisfied noises. 

All the while you praise him with kisses and gentle curls of his hair, telling him how good he’s been for you. The funnel rolls around the floor, having been drained into Joel’s gut just a moment before he gave in. 

And you’d think he was done, out for the count, needing a fat coma nap. Instead, just as you help him up to his bum, Joel snatches your waist. “Get on my lap Momma,” he slurs, licking his lips once again. You half climb, half are hoisted up to his lap, his cream coated cock still raging hard and sitting between the two of you. “Show me what those bouncing titties can do. “He slaps your breasts with little slapslapslaps. The tight grip he has on your hips forces you to begin rolling, your neglected cunt beautifully nudged against his sack with his belly and cock brushing your clit.

“Hop on Pop,” he chuckles. 

Gripping one of his shoulders, you align his cock along your soaked folds and sink down on him, the two of you sighing heavily. His sticky cum coated length needed no prep to enter you, filling your womb to the brim with his Daddy sized dick. “Gonna pump you full now, little Momma. Gonna get ya bred in no time.” Joel dips his head down and latches your tit between his jaws.

You gasp and grip his hair as he begins suckling out your warm breastmilk. It’s like all this time, he wasn’t truly even full. Like he had a separate storage in this lard living planet between you just for your hot fresh pure milk. 

“J-Joel,” you moan, eyes rolling. He’s always been good at sex. Always had a great body, but this…this is different. You can feel all of him pressing against you. Burrying your nub and hitting it so deliciously from the outside as he pummels you from the inside. You fee like a little doll, being used like a flashlight up and down along his thick cock

“That’s it, Mommy, ride me. Ride my fat cock. Ride it till ya swollen here—“ he pokes at your stomach “—as big as mine, like ya said.” You grin, biting your teeth. “B-bigger.”

He smiles. “Bigger.” His beefy hands wrap around your back and pull you as close to him as you can physically manage. “Let Daddy do all the work on that one. Just gotta take my cream, at’s all. I drink yours—n’ you take mine.”

“Mmfff--fuck—fuckyes Daddy fill me up—fill me with your cream! Ah! oh shit I’m cumming! Make me a Mommy again!”

You spasm, convulsing around Joel’s base just as he stills and ruts his second load inside you, grunting into your tits like a pained beast. You feel each pulse overwhelming your walls, yet having nowhere else to go but inside. The man has never cum so much in a second orgasm in his life, and you start to wonder if any of this is your own milk having traveled to his balls and deposited safely inside you again.

As the two of you come down, breathing in and holding one another tightly, Joel pecks at your jaw with feather kisses.

“You know…I won’t be lactating forever.” You twirl some of his curly brown hair out of his sweaty temple. “It’s going to end eventually.”

He only shrugs. 

Gasping as his dick twitches to life inside you once again, he presses his lips to yours and begins shallowly thrusting again. “Guess I’m just gonna have to keep knocking you up.”

- - - -

Notes: I have plans for more Fat!Joel content in a variety of flavors...not just subby and breastfeeding. Will be different characters and have other independent requests so stay tuned!

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[mioons]

a dream with a baseball player

pairing. park jongseong x fem. reader

genre. fluff, babysitting, est. relationship wc. 314 warnings. kissing + parenthood mentioned, pet names (not proofread)

— in which you and jay take care of a baby. extra: i will never let any of u guys forget baseball jay

“jay where’s the milk bottle? she’s crying again,” you asked as you rocked dayeong in your arms. jay immediately rushed to the baby’s room which you were in and poked his head through the side of the doorframe, looking down as you rocked the infant side to side.

you and jay were tasked to babysit your aunts daughter for a day as she and her husband were having a day out. how your aunt even managed to convince you to agree you don’t even remember, but right now you were holding a crying baby in your arms.

“i got it,” jay smiled and entered the room, sitting beside you and bringing the nipple of the bottle to dayeong’s mouth, slowly feeding her her beloved milk.

you sighed a breath of relief as the infant stopped crying and continued suckling on her milk bottle.

you turned your head to look at jay and gave him a tired smile. “i didn’t know taking care of babies were that difficult.”

he reached his hand out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, causing your cheeks to redden and heat up.

“you’re doing a great job sweetheart,” he reassured and gave you a smile, “you’d be a great mother.”

there was a moment of silence. it wasn’t awkward, it was oddly comforting. all you did was gaze into his eyes; vice versa. instinctively, you leaned forward a little and he did the same.

“we shouldn’t let the baby see this, gotta keep it PG” he mumbled and gently covered dayeong’s eyes with his hand before pressing his lips against yours.

mid kiss, you suddenly heard crying again and you immediately pulled away from jay. he retracted his hand from dayeong’s eyes.

you both tried to figure out why she was crying. and then it hit you.

“i think we need to change her diaper man.”

luvlyhee 2024 :: taglist open ,, send as ask to be added

tl: @en-gelic @ohmydollie @luvvsim @dioll @chaewonshoney @jakesangel

network. @enchive

[annwrites]

—tell me i'm your national anthem

red, white, blue is in the sky. summer's in the air & baby, heaven's in your eyes. — yandere!homelander x collegestudent!reader ; ･:*✎✩

tw: breast-feeding, oedipus complex, controlling relationship

↳ read

John tightens his arms around your waist, his head resting comfortably atop your soft stomach as you run your fingers through his blond hair, humming him to sleep.

Then he breaks the silence. "you don't think I'm weak. Do you?"

"Of course not," you reply quietly.

His left hand tightens around your hip—so hard that it causes you to wince in pain, your fingers beginning to tremble.

"And you'd never leave me," he states with a tone of certainty.

"I'm right here," you say—a mere whisper—shooshing him.

He sits up then, leaning over you, smiling softly as his left hand trails up your chest, wrapping gently around your throat.

"Because if you ever did—think of leaving, that is—whoever you tried to move on with..."

He flashes a broad, toothy grin, shrugging playfully. "We'll, I’d just fucking kill him. I’d kill any man that looked at, or touched you, y'know?" He says in a sarcastic tone, his brow twitching as he tries to play off what he's just said as something casual.

But you know he means it.

He always means it...

You swallow nervously, his hold tightening.

"Because we belong together. I mean, you belong to me. You're my property."

You stare up at him with wide eyes, and his smile slowly begins to fade.

You nod then, your heart pounding rapidly, terrified of what may happen if you instead continue to lie there dumbly and without response.

He suddenly releases his hold, chuckling. "That's my good girl. Besides, once I got done taking care of business, you'd have nowhere else to go."

He leans down, brushing a kiss over your lips, then moving closer to your ear. "I’d make sure that I’d be the only thing you had left to run to," he says—his tone slightly threatening. "In all the fuckin' world."

He pauses. "Because I am your world."

He then lies back down, turning you on your side so he can press his face between your breasts, his eyes slowly closing as he cuddles against you.

"You can keep singing," he mumbles, now content, smiling softly to himself.

You sigh in irritation, removing the tea kettle from the burner and turning it off, ready to head toward the nursery.

John looks at you from over the back of the couch with a raised brow. "What's wrong?"

You slide your hand beneath your protruding belly, glancing down to your breasts, then up to him. "They're full. I’m going to pump. I’ll be right back."

He shoots up from his seat. "Let me help."

You pause, and he shifts nervously on his feet—he hadn't mean to just blurt it out like that, but it's also not as if you're not aware of him...enjoying it. He’d sucked on your breasts so much, even when he'd only just started coming to see you, that you'd been forced to regularly buy nipple cream.

He’d been waiting eagerly for this day: when you first began to lactate. He’s unsure that he's ever anticipated anything more.

He’ll have his own personal supply always ready and waiting for him now. Whether straight from his wife's breasts, or in bottles waiting for him in the fridge once he gets home.

From what he understands, so long as a woman keeps nursing, she'll continue to produce.

And he doesn’t intend for you to stop nursing him. Ever.

You turn around.

"C'mere," he says with a wave of his hand.

You pad over to him.

He nods toward the couch, and you seat yourself.

He takes his usual position then—already erect—his body spread out, head in your lap, your hand sliding comfortably underneath it.

You tug your shirt up, revealing your swollen breasts, and he swallows thickly—already salivating at the sight of them.

You take one in your other hand and he opens his mouth. You ease your nipple in and he begins to gently suck, his eyes fluttering closed, his left arm winding around your waist—pressed between you and the back of the sofa.

It’s late, and all is silent in your home, minus the sound of your husband nursing from your breast.

It makes your cheeks warm. It’s not that you don't enjoy it—being intimate with him like this, especially knowing how much it means to him—you do. But every other time...Well, there'd been no milk involved.

You’ve been acutely aware of his eagerness for this moment. Once you got pregnant, especially as your belly began to grow, his...predisposition with your breasts hit an all-time high.

Then came that night you'd climbed into his lap and finally told him that you knew what he wanted. And that you were okay with it—he didn't need to feel embarrassed or ashamed. You were his wife, and you wanted to give him that comfort that he never received as a child. It was something meaningful, just between the two of you.

And while he'd initially tried to brush it off, he'd loved you for it. For not ever using your body—your breasts—to manipulate him while you provided him faux-comfort while he continued to live in desperation for the true thing.

He begins to suck a bit harder and then accidentally pinches your nipple between his teeth. "Ow! Easy, baby."

His cock twitches, eyes shooting open at that exclamation as he stares up at you while you gaze down at him with love.

He starts sucking more gently and you smile softly.

"Thank you," you whisper.

In truth, he wants you to fucking say it again—or something to the same effect. But how the hell is he supposed to ask for that? He’s never done it before. But right now...it's all he wants to hear from your lips.

So he bites down gently again—just enough to irritate—and you jolt. "John, that hurt!"

He pulls away from your breast, grinning up at you.

"Sorry, mommy," he replies, playfully, before taking your other breast in his mouth.

And then you realize...or think you do, at least. He wants you to talk to him like that.

The notion makes you squirm just a bit. Simply because you've never done baby talk before—have been worried that you'll be terrible at it once your little one finally arrives. But maybe this will make for good practice?

It’ll please him, if nothing else.

"Shh, just be gentle with mommy, sweetie."

His eyes close again, a groan emitting from the back of his throat.

Okay, he definitely likes it.

He continues to suck gently, so you run your fingers through his hair. "Good boy."

His lip twitches.

"You're making mommy feel so much better, baby. Thank you," you say, leaning down, pressing a kiss to his temple.He smiles, utterly content in your lap—in your loving, motherly arms.

you should've skipped the seminar when homelander came to your college as a guest speaker. it was supposed to be a 'special treat' to returning students for the new academic year. you'd not wanted to attend in the first place, until instructors & professors began herding students into the university's auditorium—which had included you.

so, you'd sat there silently, not bothering with listening to, or so much as looking at the fraud who stood behind that podium in his ridiculous 'super' suit with a puffed-out chest.

but that had only made it all the more easy to spot you when your eyes were the only ones not honed-in on & captivated by his magnificent presence.

&, in an instant, he'd made you his target.

he'd gone to the dean afterward, flashed a brilliant smile, & used his perfected, charming ways so he'd be allowed to look through the student roster, under the guise of wishing to connect with a student to thank her for her kind & moving words that she'd spoken to him as he took photos & signed autographs with her classmates. whereas, in reality, you'd been the first one out of that goddamn room.

he'd wanted to rip apart the lot of them just to get to you & force you onto your knees as you apologized & licked at his boots for disrespecting him.

that evening, as you stand in front of the stove in your apartment making yourself dinner, a loud thud is heard from your balcony.

you go to it shaking & worried someone is trying to break in, only to be met by the sight of a familiar man in a suit & cape, smiling menacingly at you from the other side of the glass doors, gently rapping against them with his knuckles, demanding he be let in...

plotting:

he's going to be very intimidating the first time they meet at her apartment.

just barges right in as soon as she opens the door

"i—uh—how—"

"i came for an apology."

"but—"

"see, i take precious time out of my day—we both know how important my time is, i mean...it's far more valuable as compared to someone like yours; someone inconsequential & worthless, that is—to come to your little 'institution' of academics to bestow wisdom upon all of you morons & instead of you giving me the respect i'm owed, you couldn't be bothered to so much as look in my general direction."

she just stares at him in fear.

"are you fucking stupid? speak!"

"i—i'm sorry?" she's more-so asking out of confusion.

"mm, see, that wasn't very convincing."

he just keeps stepping further & further inside, until he has her backed up against a counter.

"did mommy & daddy not teach their little girl respect?"

more staring & shaking.

"i could always just make you get on your knees. to either suck me off, or lick my boots. maybe both," he says with a grin & a shrug.

"i'm not doing that. i don't...i don't understand why you even care. what...why you're here. how you even—"

"do you not like me? i'm a fucking hero. i am the face of this country. yet you treat me like any other insignificant schmuck on the street. i deserve some goddamn respect."

"i dislike all celebrities just the same. please, just—"

he raises a brow. "i am not just some 'celebrity'. i protect you. i look out for you. and this is the thanks i get for it? some sniveling little bitc—"

but before he can finish, she pushes away from him.

"shit!"

her dinner was burning on the stovetop.

he smirks then, having an idea.

"y'know what? that does seem like a good start at fixing things between us. you can make me dinner. maybe we play house for the evening."

she stares at him incredulously.

"go on, start cooking. before i make you."

she makes him 2 grilled cheese sandwiches—just something simple to try & get rid of him.

"just going to sit there & watch me eat?"

"i'm...not hungry anymore."

"what're you in school for, then?"

"creative writing."

"read me something you've written."

"i don't...i don't want to."

"well, it's either that or once i'm done with my dinner i carry you over to your bed & have my way with you. whether you want to or not."

she grabs her laptop, since he's already nearly done with 1 sandwich.

"nope, give it here. i get to choose which one."

he picks one & turns the device around just as the document is coming up.

her face immediately goes red & he knows he must've chosen right.

"go on, then. almost done. or don't. i win either way."

it's just pure smut.

she's SO uncomfortable while reading what she's written about a man giving a girl oral.

meanwhile, he can smell how turned on she is.

once he's done she immediately stops, retrieving his plate & putting it in the dishwasher.

he comes up behind her, putting his hands on her shoulders, then moving them down her arms, & up her chest until he has her tits in his hands.

she swings back around. "you can't—"

"oh, honey, i can do whatever the fuck i want." he grins. "& i think you're gonna like it."

he crushes his lips to hers, ignoring her mewls of protest as he lifts her onto the counter, pulling her shorts & panties down.

she tries to fight, but as soon as his eyes go red & he threatens her to either stay still or he'll kill her, she obeys.

he gets on his knees & eats her out until she's yanking on his hair & coming on his tongue.

he stands—his face shimmering from her & he kisses her again. "now, say thank you like a polite young lady."

"t-thank you."

he heads for the balcony again, throwing over his shoulder "i'll be back tomorrow" before taking off.

she's just sitting there humiliated. just like he wanted.

he keeps coming back to her apartment time & again, not much caring what she may or may not want.

he very slowly starts letting her in.

& when he does, he usually gets pissed-off right after, bc he's afraid of letting those walls down. but as soon as she touches him—a hand on the chest, or cupping his cheek, his mind just goes blank.

before long, he considers her as belonging to him, even if she doesn't know it. jealous side starts coming out to a frightening degree.

eventually, since his image is 'the american dream', pr team starts pushing for him to get married due to his being middle-aged & still alone—doesn't look good for his image. he puts it off for as long as possible until they have a list of suitable celebrities or other lined up for him to consider.

he panics. "i'm already engaged, so you can shove your roster of botox-filled bimbos where the sun don't shine. i found my girl."

goes to her apartment & throws her a small black box. "here, put that on your ring finger."

"j-john, this is—"

"yup," he says with a smile. "you are getting the unimaginable privilege of becoming misses homelander."

she makes him get down on one knee & do it right, despite him bitching.

in truth, she's frightened, but knows she has no other choice. he's already told her what will happen if she ever tries to leave—she's trapped.

speaking of pr—his team has him bring her in so they can properly meet her & make their judgement (doesn't matter either way what they think, bc he'd kill all of them/burn the whole building down before letting her go) & they start setting up photo-ops of him 'randomly' coming to visit her at uni—bringing her flowers, they're kissing, & hugging, & paparazzi just 'happen' to be nearby.

sometimes he'll just fly her up into the clouds to get the both of them away from it all. because yeah, he loves the attention, but it's the fact that she was his & now he feels like the media is trying to make her their own in some way. just as they have with him his whole life.

he wants her to stay as his & his alone. the wedding can't come soon enough so he can get her hidden privately away in a house somewhere.

buys her a house & gets to work on knocking her up asap. for one, bc i think he has a breeding kink, but also to further trap her, & to also get to work on building his lil 'master race' of supes & bc...mommy kink.

man has massive mommy issues, as we all know.

is going to have a particular breast-feeding kink w/ reader where he obvs can't actually feed (bc she's like 21 & doesn't have any kids yet), so he just will have her hold his head in her lap while he sucks on her nipples.

one day she has to go to the store to finally buy nipple cream bc of cracking & irritation he's doing it so much & a woman picking up formula is all "aw, how old is yours? (:" & she's mentally just like "do NOT say 43". "oh, uh, 6 months. (:"

headcanons:

after he & reader are married & have their first child, he has a lot of nightmares of something horrid happening to them. when he wakes up, it's always to her shaking him awake, telling him it's ok—everything is okay. his eyes will slowly fade from red, back to their natural color before he yanks her shirt down & starts breast-feeding for comfort. she just holds him & sings to him. it's just the routine they go through every-other night.

honestly? in general, she's his only source of comfort. he loves his children w/ her, but at times they give him nothing but anxiety, bc he's terrified he's going to fuck them up just like he is.

so, he tends to, at times, treat her like a surrogate mother for himself.

it was part of why he was so desperate to finally get her pregnant: to make her a literal mother at last.

before kids? called her pet names every now & again, but mostly by her first name. after? mommy all day long. she knows why, too. & it's not bc of the babies.

at random times, he'll just feel an overwhelming sense of emotion (affection) when he's with reader. & his only way to deal with it is to just pull her toward him as he lays his head between her breasts while she wraps her arms around his shoulders & head & he wraps his around her middle.

sometimes when she's studying or doing schoolwork, he'll get whiny bc he wants her tits in his face, so she eventually forces him into a compromise: they'll sit on the couch—she'll have a small table behind it with her things for uni—& she'll be straddling his lap while she works/writes/types & he gets to suck on her nips all he wants!

[peachesofteal]

Can we please please please get some more Simon x single mother au? Possibly him helping in the garden/ keeping emmaline out of trouble while Mom works in the garden

Light on - single mom/neighbor fic Simon Riley/female reader 18+ mdni / mild sexual content

“Ow! fuck!”

Your hand jerks, drawing back to your mouth with a hiss. 

“What is it?” He forces himself still, staring daggers at where the tip of your finger has started to leak blood, a thick drop dripping down the side before you bring it to your mouth, lush lips wrapping around your injury. “Are you alright?” His tone is tightly controlled, even keeled, nonchalant, but on the inside, worry gnaws away at his stomach, chewing through the organ until it’s spilling free and running rampant through his body. 

“There’s a piece of glass in here.” In the garden bed? “Some of the other tenants, hang around up here at night. They usually leave bottles or cans behind.” The worry turns to anger, a simple plan slowly taking shape in his mind, a strategy to find the rooftop partiers, and ensure they never leave glass in your garden again. 

Emmaline cries, nose and brows wrinkled in irritation, and you turn to coo at her, finger still half in your mouth. 

“It’s okay, little pea. Just give me a second.” She continues to fuss, and you sigh, wilting like one of your own little flowers, left too long in the sun without water. You blink, and it’s like you’ve shed your sunlit skin for an exhausted shell. Oh, sweetheart. I know it’s hard, but you don’t have to do it on your own anymore. 

I’m here now. 

“Can I?” He asks softly, warming at how your face lights with relief. 

“Yes, please.” You point to the bottle that’s tucked in the side of the backpack, and he unbuckles her from the bouncer that you lugged up the four flights of stairs earlier, even though he had texted you an hour before and politely suggested you wait for him to be finished his phone call, so he could help you. 

You went up anyway, much to his displeasure. Displeasure, that he had to swallow, permanently. 

You’re not his. Not yet. He can’t be disappointed by resistance or refusal when you don’t even know all the ways he can be there for you yet. He knows you’ll learn. You’re a smart girl. His smart girl. 

Emmaline lays nestled in the crook of his elbow, slightly elevated on her back, and he pops the cap of the bottle easily, rubbing his index finger against her cheek to trigger the reflex that will open her mouth. When it does, he keeps it at the right angle to ensure the formula doesn’t flow too fast into her belly. 

“You’ve done this before.” You murmur, reaching into the backpack for a band aid. You’re studying him, tracing over his face, his hands that are nearly the size of your baby, and he can feel the scrutiny, the curious intensity of your gaze. 

“Had a nephew. I was around a lot, when he was this age.” He had a brother too. And a mother. A sister-in-law. A family. 

Emmaline gurgles around the nipple, and he slips it free, sitting her mostly upright, giving her a gentle pat on the back amid her protestations, little grunts that he’s sure she means as ‘feed me’ and ‘more’. He waits for you to ask him the dreaded questions, the focus on the word had, the inevitable conversation about loss and family and pain, guilt and grief that can make a man feel like he’s been buried alive. 

You don’t.

Instead, you simply say, 

“Emmaline had a dad once, too.” 

It’s nearly 2100 when you knock on his door later, baby monitor in one hand, two amber colored bottles in another. 

“Hey. You busy?” His heart does a double tap inside his chest. Bad timing, the worst. Your sweet mouth is slightly open, hopeful, teeth parted just barely to reveal a flash of tongue, and his jaw clenches against the wild need that catapults through his veins to his cock. What do you taste like? What do you feel like? You motion to the monitor. “Just went down. Figure I have about an hour before I pass out myself and could use some adult time.” Shit. The duffel bag next to the door practically speaks for him, irritatingly reminding him he has a plane to catch in less than two hours. 

“I can’t, I’m about to head out.” Your brow furrows, confusion churning into understanding within a moment, disappointment flickering across your expression before it smooths out. 

“Right. Okay.” 

“I want to.” He hurries the words. “But I travel… for work and I have to be on a flight in a few hours.” You’re already half turning away, slinking off to your apartment, giving him a soft agreement as you go. 

“Sure, yeah.” 

“Wait, sweetheart,” You startle at the pet name, eyes going wide at the inferred affection. “when I get back, let’s… have a drink.” You nod, and he smiles a real smile, barely tugging his lips upward, probably hardly visible to you. The kind of smile he’s been wearing around you these past two weeks, the kind of smile he tries to give Emmaline when she stares at him. 

“Alright, sounds good then.” Your key finds your lock, and he steps out into the hallway, trapping your gaze with his own. 

“You girls be good.” He says, a parting instruction, and a bashful, bewildered smile of your own curves across your mouth. 

“We will.”

[martiansodas-blog]

i love art donaldson dumbification but what about art donaldson puppyification? no other thoughts other than being your little lapdog, fetching your things for you and living off of praise

🎾 🤍💐✨🎀

♡ if a.donaldson can’t cover you with licks and kisses like a devoted dog then he doesn’t want it.

squish his thighs or pet his head or rub his belly when you need to say i love you. speak his language.

imagine just holding him to your chest and running your hands through the back of his head, it's such a rarely touched place it almost startles him to let another run their fingers around, yet it feels embarassingly good.

its scary how much an intimate touch makes him wanna shy away.

he just wants to kneel in front of someone while they stroke his hair, look up at them with those big eyes. whine a bit when they tug at it. he longs to be one putty in someone’s hands.

♡ oh you’re looking for your bag? he’s already holding it.

you need to fill up your water bottle but are comfy and don’t wanna get up? he’s on it.

♡ art is proud to be your blanket. your body talks to him; your heart giving his cheek kisses.

♡ we all know art has an oral fixation. when he’s in his happy place, it’s much even more intense. he’s asking to use your tits or clit. what are you gonna do? say no??

he loveeees laying on top of you, eyes closed, arms wrapped around your middle and nipple in his mouth. you’ll binge tv like this. it’s background noise to art. there’s no thoughts behind those eyes.

he’s gentle, don’t worry. he’ll massage the other one from time to time. giving kisses all over when he’s done as a thank you. putting your shirt back on you.

you get caught up on your shows while your lapdog lays on you getting scratches. win-win.

when it’s your clit it’s a different story.

you remind him, “no biting, soft mouth".

it’ll cause him to pout cause he can’t fully comprehend just how delicate it is. he’ll bite a tiny itty bitty bit to see what he can get away with. he’s sorry he just finds it really cute when you squeal !!! (and it’s such a perfect size to nibble on 🤭)

♡ bonus: he likes when you feed him things. that game where you throw grapes or popcorn into the others mouth? GODDD he’s there. huge smile on his face. he’s very good at it too.

what a good boy

[izvmimi]

cw: heavy angst, talk of children, childbirth and death, grief, bakugou is miserable tbh, izuku has an unnamed wife

a/n: sorry lol. also repost.

Izuku’s infant son looks disturbingly just like him, Bakugou realizes.

A bit small for age height-wise, but chubby nonetheless, with a shock of green wavy-curly hair. Large, green eyes. The freckles haven’t settled in yet, probably because he’s still too young, but the features are nearly the same. 

The kid also won’t stop kicking as Katsuki tries to fasten his diaper, and he’s getting a tiny bit frustrated. At least he’s not crying - thankfully, he doesn’t appear to have inherited the excessively soft disposition from his dad.

“You’re gonna have to be faster than that,” you joke from behind him. Bakugou finishes up securing the diaper, then glances at you and scowls. “Next time he’ll pee on ya!” you giggle while Bakugou gets the baby’s onesie back on then carries him so that he rests on his chest. He makes his way towards the bottle warmer - the baby isn’t crying now, but based on the guide Izuku’s wife gave him, this is about the time for his next feeding and he’s got a pair of lungs on him. It also doesn’t help that the toddler keeps nuzzling his face into his chest as though he’s trying to find a nipple to suck on. 

He does have to admit the little kiddo is cute.

“Did you check the temperature?”

You watch him carefully as he shakes warm milk onto the back of his hand, perched on the counter and swinging your feet gently. Bakugou doesn’t keep his eyes off of you as he checks, child cradled in his left arm.

“I know what I’m doing, princess,” he asserts. He has a little pout instead of a scowl instead, the one you’ve always thought was cute, where he communicates his disappointment that you’re underestimating his skill.

“Of course you do, love.” You smile widely, sweetly, as if you weren’t just micromanaging him. Not that he minds - when you hop off the counter and walk towards him, hands reaching upwards to caress his face gently, he can feel his face growing warm, even if your hands are disturbingly cool to the touch. 

You make your way to the couch first, nearly gliding along the linoleum that lines the kitchen, then along the impeccably clean wooden floorboards into the Midoriyas’ living room. It’s odd that you know this house so well, but you and Izuku’s wife had long been friends and spent many a night together in this very home when he and Izuku had been wrapped up in high grade missions and wouldn’t be home for days to weeks on end.

You flop onto the couch and point the remote to the television, even though it is already on, set to the news. Bakugou holds the baby in his lap as he sits down behind you and starts to feed him. You rest your head on his shoulder and to Katsuki, you are as light as a feather. 

“We haven’t had time together in a long while,” you whisper. 

Bakugou’s head tilts ever so slightly so that it rests against yours as well.

“You’re right. I’ve missed you,” he insists. There’s a quiet silence between you. It really has been a while that you’ve been able to sit together like this, despite being husband and wife.

“Are you fine with babysitting?” you ask. “Izuku was worried about asking you in the first place according to ___, and she had to convince him it was okay despite everything, insisting that it would be good for you-”

Katsuki interrupts your rambling with a kiss on your forehead.

“It’s fine,” he says, gruffly. Your lips pull into a sad smile.

“I’m sorry, Katsuki, I wish things had been different,” you say anyway.

Katsuki can feel his heart breaking, and instead focuses on the child in his lap, monitoring his progress on the bottle. He had wanted a child. He had wanted a child so badly, one that looked like him and you, and what had it brought him? 

The memory of you haunting him constantly, always there, but not really there.

When he looks back at you again, your form is starting to dissipate, as it does whenever he starts to remember you’re no longer on this plane of existence.

His hands are full so he can no longer cling to you - plus this has happened so many times before that he’s now nearly used to it - so instead he watches you go, numb, tears no longer falling from his eyes. After all, just for today, he has someone else to take care of, even if it’s for a short period of time. 

The kid is falling asleep in his lap now, and it’s just the two of them as Bakugou watches, but doesn’t really watch the shifting pictures in front of him. Being a godfather feels like an incomplete substitute for being a father at times, but it’s valuable all the same.

“Guess it’s just me and you, kid,” he whispers as he rises to put the baby to bed.

When the Midoriyas never return, and Bakugou signs the last of adoption papers, it rings again true.

The child laughs a little more now, unaware that his godfather now turned legal father sees three figures that aren’t really there instead of one now. Bakugou smiles as he throws the kid up in the air, realizing that misery might have helped him mourn you initially, but won’t keep the two of them safe.

“Guess it really is just me and you.”

[misspygmypie]

Baby Duties

Part of the "Meet & Greet... and more?" Universe Pairing: Lando Norris x Noah, Lando Norris x Baby Maebry Words: 1380 Request: By @yourfavantihero: Can I suggest an idea? What about one where Lando does his dad duties for newborn Maebry and Noah wants to help him AND by Anon: can we get something with noah and maebry together please? maybe lando overhears him talking to her, idk, just him being a cute big brother!

Masterlist

Please do not repost, thank you, and leave some feedback :)

Lando had just finished preparing a bottle for his daughter when he heard the familiar patter of small feet racing down the hallway. A few short moments later Noah skidded into the kitchen with his favorite toy car tucked under his arm. “Dad, can I help with Maebry today?”

“Of course,” Lando slightly chuckled at his son’s eagerness, “I’d love your help. How about you start by picking out a nice outfit for Maebry?”

Noah’s face lit up with a grin as he darted toward the dresser in Maebry’s room. He pulled open the drawer and sifted through the neatly folded clothes, his small hands carefully selecting a soft pink onesie with ruffles just as his father came into the room. “How about this one, dad? I remember when mommy and I bought it at the baby store!”

“Great choice, buddy, but let’s feed her first,” Lando settled into the rocking chair with her, gently cradling her in his arms. Noah stood by, his face a mix of curiosity and determination. “Can I hold the bottle for Maebry?” he asked, his voice filled with hope.

Lando smiled warmly when he got an idea. “How about we practice holding the bottle with Maebry on your lap?”

He got back up and then carefully guided Noah to sit down in the rocking chair, making sure he was settled and relaxed. Then, Lando gently placed Maebry into the boy’s lap, positioning her so that she was cradled securely.

“Okay, Noah,” Lando said, “now let’s get the bottle ready. I’ll show you how to hold it just right.”

Lando took the bottle and demonstrated, positioning it at a slight angle. “You want to hold the bottle like this,” he explained, “so that Maebry can drink comfortably.”

Noah watched intently as Lando held the bottle. “Like this?” he asked, adjusting his grip to mimic his father’s demonstration.

“Exactly,” Lando encouraged. “Now, you can hold it gently but firmly. Make sure to hold her.”

Noah adjusted his grip, holding the bottle with care and his sister’s little mouth found the nipple and she began to drink eagerly. Noah’s eyes widened with delight as he watched her.

“She’s drinking! Dad, I’m doing it,” Noah said, his voice filled with excitement.

“You’re doing an amazing job, Noah. It’s important to be gentle and patient. You’re a natural at this.”

Maebry continued to drink and Lando took the opportunity to share more tips with Noah. “You see how Maebry is looking at you? Babies are very perceptive. They can sense the love and care you give them. Just keep talking to her and being gentle.”

Noah’s face glowed with pride as he talked softly to Maebry. “Hi, Maebry. I’m Noah. I’m going to tell you all about my favorite car races and soon we can play together!”

“You’re doing so well, Noah,” Lando watched the interaction between his kids. “And when Maebry gets a bit older, she’ll love hearing all your stories. You’re helping her now and that’s a special thing.”

Once Maebry had finished her bottle, Lando gently took her from Noah’s lap and held her close while carrying her to the changing table. Noah followed closely behind, still watching his now awake and blinking baby sister and a few moments later he handed his dad the onesie he had picked out.

Lando skillfully dressed Maebry and Noah watched with intense concentration, his tiny fingers occasionally reaching out to touch his sister’s tiny toes or smooth her hair. “She’s so tiny,” he said, his voice full of wonder.

Lando chuckled softly. “She is, isn’t she? And you’re doing a fantastic job helping her get ready.”

Once Maebry was dressed Lando smiled at the sight and said, “You know, Noah, I think Maebry would look even cuter with some socks and a bow. What do you think? Do you want to put them on?”

Noah nodded and quickly went back over to her dresser and pulled out a pair of white socks and a white bow to complete her little outfit. First, Noah carefully slipped the soft socks onto Maebry’s tiny feet, making sure they were snug but not too tight. He giggled as he admired how cute they looked. “Maebry’s feet look like little marshmallows, so cute and squishy!”

Lando started to giggle at the comparison and watched his son gently placing the small bow on Maebry’s head, adjusting it to sit just right. He stepped back and beamed at his work. “She looks so pretty, Dad, I think she loves it!”

Lando smiled and ruffled Noah’s hair. “You’ve done an amazing job. Maebry looks like a little princess.”

As they finished up, Maebry stirred slightly, her tiny fingers reaching out as if to grasp the love and care surrounding her. Noah watched with a soft smile as his baby sister started to laugh and blow tiny bubbles.

The afternoon wore on and Lando and Noah decided it was time for some play. Lando set up a cozy play area on the floor with a colorful mat and a few soft toys. Noah eagerly scooted over, settling beside Maebry. “Dad, can I show Maebry my favorite toy car?” he asked.

Lando nodded, amused. “Sure, Noah. Just make sure you’re gentle and let her see the toy without getting too close.”

Noah carefully rolled his toy car back and forth, making sure Maebry could see the bright colors and hear the gentle sounds. “Look, Maebry! This is my racing car. It goes super fast and one day you’ll be able to play with it too!”

Maebry’s eyes followed the toy car with fascination and Noah’s excitement grew by the minute. He continued to talk to her, recounting stories of imaginary races and making up adventures for the car.

When it was time for Maebry’s nap Noah carefully tucked her in the soft, pastel blankets, arranging them just right. His face was full of concentration, his love for his sister evident in every small gesture.

When Maebry woke for another feeding, Noah was quick to fetch a fresh bottle from the kitchen, his little feet padding down the hall with purpose. “Here’s the bottle, Dad,” he said, handing it over with a proud smile.

“Thanks, Noah. You’ve been such a great helper today.”

Noah’s chest puffed out with pride. “I like helping you with Maebry. It’s fun and I can’t wait to do even more tomorrow.”

As evening settled in, Lando and Noah relaxed in the living room, Maebry contentedly asleep in her crib nearby. Noah snuggled up beside his dad, his eyes sleepy but happy. “Today was the best, Dad. I think Maebry likes me being her big brother.”

“I know she does, Noah,” Lando agreed and wrapped an arm around the boy. “You’ve been wonderful with her today and I’m so proud of you.”

Later that evening, after Maebry was put down into her crib for the night, Noah stood next to her, his gaze soft. He began to talk to her, his voice gentle and soothing. “Hi, Mae, it’s Noah. I just wanted to tell you how much I love you. I can’t wait to show you all of my toys and play with you when you’re bigger and tell you all about racing. You’re my little sister and I’m going to take care of you.”

Lando stood in the doorway, his heart melting as he watched Noah interact with her. The sight of his son speaking so tenderly to his baby sister filled him with so much love and he couldn’t have been any prouder of his son at that moment.

Noah continued to chat with Maebry for a little while before he turned around. He walked up to his dad and gave him a tight hug before looking back at the crib once more before leaving the room with Lando, who gently placed a hand on Noah’s shoulder, slowly guiding the boy into his own bedroom. 

As Lando tucked Noah into bed, he looked down at his son with a loving smile. “I’m so proud of how you’ve helped and cared for her today. Thank you for being such a great big brother. Maebry is so lucky to have you.”

“And I’m lucky to have her. I can’t wait for all the fun we’ll have together.”

________

AN: I have no idea if any of this makes sense, I don't know how to take care of a baby LOL But I hope you like it and if not let me know and I can rewrite 😊🫶

Taglist: @eloriis @pacifierbby @landossainz @littlegrapejuice @barcelonaloverf1life @poppyflower-22 @itsjustfranzi @vickykazuya @sltwins

[mellowsadistic]

The Succubus - Valentine's Day

A sequel to The Succubus.

***

“Good morning, little cucky,” the monster cooed, peering over the bars of the crib. “Happy Valentine’s Day! Could you hear the grown-ups having their fun earlier, sweetie? I hope we didn’t wake you…”

Debbie glowered at her, all too aware of how ridiculous she must look trying to be intimidating with a pacifier bobbing in her mouth, lying at the bottom of an oversized crib beneath a set of Disney princess bedsheets. Her eyes were red, and there were tears drying on her cheeks as well. She had indeed woken up to the loud sounds of lovemaking coming from her former bedroom.

The Succubus laughed. “Oh dear! Someone’s a very grumpy girl today! Looks like we did wake you after all, huh? I guess you’ll just have to have an extra-long nap this afternoon to make up for it. But right now it’s time to get you up and dressed, little one!” She flung back the princess covers to reveal Debbie’s body, nude but for the thick disposable diaper around her waist.

Debbie slipped out of her crib, her nappy sagging heavily between her legs as she got to her feet. Her bottom lip trembled behind her soother. She’d woken up wet again.

The Succubus reached out, grinning like a Cheshire cat, and put her hand on Debbie’s crotch. Debbie could feel the cold, soggy padding pressing against her pussy. “That’s my little bedwetter,” said the Succubus softly. She slipped a finger past the leak guards, her eyes not leaving Debbie’s face. “Soaked again... Mummy’s poor widdle baby just can’t contwol herself, can she?”  Then she spun her around and pulled out the back of her diaper. “But you’re still not pooping at night.” She turned her back around, smiling horribly. “Don’t worry though. Sooner or later you’ll start waking up stinky.”

Debbie imagined waking up every morning to a yucky mess in the seat of her pants and no memory of how it had got there, and felt sick at the thought. The Succubus wanted her to be fully incontinent. Her horrifying voice power had served to strip Debbie of most of her daytime control, but her commands didn’t work as well when Debbie was sleeping. It had taken weeks of ‘special medicine’ in her baby bottles, but now she was starting to reliably wake up in pissy Pampers. Yet the creature who had stolen her adulthood clearly wouldn’t be satisfied until she was doing the most babyish thing possible in her pants while she slept.

Once her hair was tied up in pigtails, frilly socks had been pulled over her feet, and she was dressed in a pale pink frock that failed to reach past the drooping, discoloured seat of her nappy (her overnight diaper was never changed before she made her morning poo-poo), Debbie was ready to head downstairs for breakfast. Mealtimes had been bad enough from the start, when the demon liked to cram her body inside a tight highchair, tie a bib around her neck, and feed her jar after jar of bland, mushy baby food – but things had become even worse ever since she’d realised there was another, better way to feed her ‘baby girl’.

They headed into the living room rather than the kitchen once they’d gone down the stairs, to find John lounging in an armchair having just finished his breakfast. His empty tray was sitting on a table beside him.

“Go and kiss Daddy good morning,” said the Succubus, patting Debbie’s diapered bottom to send her on her way.

Debbie hurried over to her husband. She wasn’t really allowed to kiss him, she knew. Instead she pressed the shield of her binky briefly against his cheek and let him pat her on the head. “Good morning, pretty princess,” he cooed, and Debbie’s heart did a little flutter despite herself.

She turned around and felt her stomach roll, as it always did, at the sight of the Succubus sitting on the sofa with her large, heavy tits out of her top. A droplet of milk was glistening on the end of one of her nipples. “Come to Mummy, baby,” she said seductively, her dark eyes burning like coals. “Time for your feeding.”

Debbie toddled to the sofa, diaper crinkling noisily, and lay herself across the monster woman’s lap. It had taken a while for her milk to come in, but now she produced enough that Debbie had three meals a day from her boobs, supplemented in the evenings by oatmeal and store-bought baby food. With a wet pop, the Succubus removed the dummy from her mouth and guided her lips slowly towards her waiting breast, clearly savouring the look of revulsion on her victim’s face.

Debbie felt the warm nipple enter her mouth, and her lips closed around it and began to suckle instinctively, enthusiastically, against her will. Hot, creamy breastmilk ran down her throat at once. It had a rum-like sweetness to it that wasn’t entirely unpleasant, but no matter how hard she tried, Debbie couldn’t ignore the fact that she was guzzling milk from another woman’s tits. It didn’t help that the Succubus cooed to her in a sickening sweet voice while she fed.

“Good girl, Debbie! Drink up all your milkies, that’s a good baby. Isn’t it yummy-wummy? Straight from Mummy’s boobies to baby’s belly.”

The milk seemed endless, and Debbie’s stomach already felt full to bursting when she was moved onto the second breast. But she knew better than to try and fight. That would just make the creature use that cold, awful voice, and Debbie would simply end up doing as she was told anyway. She may even earn herself a spanking to boot. At last she finished her breakfast, and after being briefly burped with her head over the Succubus’s shoulder, the monster kissed her on the forehead, shoved her pacifier back between her lips, and got up. “Time for Mummy to have her breakfast too,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “I think pancakes sound tasty. You stay here and behave yourself, okay sweetie?” And she left Debbie sitting on the sofa feeling heavy and tired, with her tummy full to the brim with breastmilk.

But Debbie knew she had a rare opportunity. It wasn’t often that the Succubus left her alone with her husband. John was still in his armchair, reading the paper, and the moment the demon left the living room, Debbie got off the sofa and waddled over to him as fast as she could. She could feel the milk sloshing around in her stomach. John looked up from his paper at the sound of her rustling diaper just as she reached him. Pushing aside his newspaper, her gaze fixed on his handsome face, Debbie clambered into her husband’s lap and straddled one of his legs. She bounced impatiently on his knee, and John wrinkled his nose at the pee-pee smell, but he chuckled indulgently all the same. “Do you want a horsey-ride, little missy?”

“Yes please,” Debbie whispered breathily, her soother falling from her mouth and dangling on the end of its chord. It had been over two weeks since she’d last had the opportunity for a ‘horsey-ride’ on his lap, but she felt that if the two of them could just have something resembling an intimate moment today, on Valentine’s Day, it would somehow undo the Succubus’s brainwashing and make John see her as a woman again.

John raised his eyebrow at her.

“Yes please, Daddy,” she corrected, hating the monster that had done this to her loving husband.

John nodded, satisfied, and started to bounce his knee. “Horsey, horsey, don’t you stop,” he sang, “just let your feet go clippety-clop!”

Debbie suppressed a moan of pleasure as her padded pussy was pressed hard against his knee with each bounce. If she closed her eyes and ignored the singing, if she pressed her body against his chest and pretended her pants weren’t full of pee-pee, she could almost pretend that they were making love.

“Your tail goes swish and your wheels go round!”

Her clit was pulsing delightfully. She could feel herself getting closer and closer to orgasm. She was so desperate these days. She was almost there… She was right on the edge…

“Giddy up, we’re homeward bound!”

“I think that’s enough of that!” came the Succubus’s amused voice, and Debbie felt arms loop around her middle and lift her effortlessly off her husband’s knee.

“Noooo!” she shrieked, kicking her legs and humping the air desperately. Her pussy was spasming, tantalisingly close to relief. “No! No! No!”

Her feet hit the floor and there was a sharp smack on her bottom. “Aren’t you a lucky girl, getting to play on Daddy’s lap for a bit!” the demon crooned darkly. She swatted Debbie’s bottom again. “But settle down now, babykins. You can’t play horsey forever, and Daddy doesn’t want you rubbing your disgusting, piss-soaked diaper all over him.”

“Pleeeease…” Debbie begged, tears welling up in her eyes. She pressed her hand against the front of her nappy and started to rub. She couldn’t stop herself. She needed release.

“Bad girl, Debbie!” the Succubus scolded, pushing her hands away from her crotch. “Is that what Mummy’s taught you to do when you’re feeling naughty tingles in your no-no spot?”

Debbie whined. She clenched her fists at her sides and bounced on the spot. Her pussy was so achy. She hated asking, hated what it involved, but it was the only time the Succubus ever allowed her to orgasm. Most of the time the monster refused her. But occasionally, just frequently enough, she’d say yes.

“Mummy…” Debbie said through gritted teeth. “Please can I have sex?”

“Keep going, baby,” the Succubus said, her eyes glittering maliciously. “Ask properly.”

“I know… I know I’m too silly and little for real sex,” said Debbie, glaring at the floor, “but I want to play pretend. Please can I have sex with my teddy bear?”

The Succubus ran her fingers through one of Debbie’s pigtails, considering, letting the silence drag on. “Yes you may, baby,” she said finally. “Go get teddy.”

Debbie rushed over to the toybox that sat in the corner of the room and pulled out an enormous teddy bear, disentangling him from some of her dress-up clothes. But she’d only gone two steps back towards the Succubus when she stopped dead. For a moment, she couldn’t figure out what was wrong. Then a soft grunt escaped her lips. Her knees began to bend, and she found herself sinking into an uncontrollable squat. Tears spilled down her cheeks. “No…” she sobbed.

“Uh-oh!” sang the Succubus, and Debbie could hear the grin on her face. “Looks like it’s time for someone’s morning whoopsies!”

John laughed. “I’m just glad she waited until she was out of my lap!”

Debbie let out a loud, unladylike grunt, following by another sob, and then she got to work pushing last night’s din-dins into her pants. Her diaper drooped even lower beneath the hem of her frock as a heavy, smelly mess dropped into the back. Her face was scrunched up as though she was straining with all her might to make as big of a poo-poo as she possibly could in her Pampers, although the truth was that she was quite out of control of her own body. Her nappy sagged again as she dumped another load into it, accompanied by a fresh wave of wee-wee, so that her baby pants hung so heavily between her thighs they were halfway down to her knees. Then, with a final grunt, Debbie straightened up.

“Mummy…” she whimpered. “Please can I have a change before… before…”

The Succubus’s face was as full of delight as Debbie’s was with horror. She approached the quivering baby woman like a predator. “No, little one,” she said, her tone mocking. “If you want your special rub-rubs today then you have to have them now, in your dirty diaper.” She shoved Debbie’s dummy back between her lips, took her by the hand, and led her over to the centre of the room. “Put teddy down here,” she said, pointing at the floor. Arms trembling, Debbie did as she was told. She felt sick with shame, but even with the horrible, babyish mess in her pants, her pussy was still burning needily. “Good girl,” said the monster, flushed with arousal. “Now you can have sex with teddy, and I can have sex with your husband.” She looked over at John. “Ready for round two?” she asked, smirking.

John grinned back and started to undo his belt as his lover strutted over to him, stripping off her clothes as she went. Meanwhile Debbie lowered herself gently to the floor, on top of her teddy bear. She nearly gagged when the poop in her diaper squished against her bottom, but she was almost too horny to care. The first thrust against teddy sent a wave of pleasure coursing through her body, and she couldn’t stop herself moaning like a slut. She heard John and the Succubus laugh, but she kept going, grinding her aching, diaper-clad pussy against her bear, picking up speed. But then she made the mistake of looking up, and although she didn’t stop humping, Debbie started to wail at the sight of the demon riding her husband’s cock. She was straddling his lap, bouncing up and down on his manhood with her head thrown back in ecstasy. “Oh, oh, ohhh!” she moaned.

Debbie felt her orgasm getting closer and closer, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the nightmare happening before her. She sucked frantically on her binky and went cross-eyed as she thrust against her teddy bear, her head dizzy with need. She was right on the edge. And then she was over it, she was cumming in her stinky, sopping wet diaper – and as she did, the Succubus looked over her shoulder with an evil smile and whispered, “Happy Valentine’s Day, baby girl…”