#so pregnant

[lilacbumps]

Oh Baby - Mayternity

“Have a kiddie pool ready at my baby shower. I have a feeling my water will break in the middle of the party.” Kellie teased waddling past her guests to go into the kitchen. She grabs a tray of cookies to bring outside; placing a cookie or three in her salivating mouth. Her bestie calls for her from outside, making Kellie turn quickly. Her massive belly knocks over several bottles of water like a bowling ball hitting the pins for a strike. Kellie stands there looking at the bottles on the floor with a defeated expression upon her face. Her mother walks into the room chuckling and gently rubs her daughter’s belly.

“I got this dear, Denise is calling for you outside.” Mother starts to pick up the water bottles off the floor.

Kellie waddles outside, feeling extreme heaviness on her bladder. She approaches Denise to see what she called her outside for.

“Someone sent these flowers for you. He didn’t say his name, but he’s a tall, dark and handsome man.” Denise smiles handing her the bouquet.

“They’re so lovely, he could have stayed if he wanted.” Kellie blushing as she knows whom it was that sent the flowers. She takes the flowers and smells them. They smell sweet and fresh from the floral shop. Kellie began to think about that night with him. It was all a blur, but she remembers how she gotten pregnant. His strong arms held her up on the kitchen counter of her place, the room smelled of cookies baking in the oven releasing more endorphins. Her hormones were all over the place that night.

Kellie sneezes abruptly followed by a sudden gush between her thick thighs. Kellie gasps as her water has just broken and her hunch was right. It’s happening now!

tinylf.com/ieJxgq8t

[psycheetamore]

Sharing this for research purposes. Allowing us to investigate what makes him so unexplainable desirable...

[asweatybouquetlover]

[10-honglazia-24]

Pregnant just from reading this WOWOWOW WOW I thought my studded and inked Yunho was soenthing thsi is GODLY GODLY THIS WROTER IS A GOD IM OREGNANT JSUT FROM READING IT

11 - ɪᴍᴘʀᴇɢɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴ - ꜱᴀɴ

ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇꜱ

part 1

pairing: lead singer! san x groupie! reader (fem) feat. guitarist! seonghwa (seonghwa is just kinda there in this i’m sorry ;;)

genre: band au, smut

summary: after being rejected by your favorite guitarist, you give the lead singer a visit instead.

w.c: 2.6k

warnings: some mxm in the intro, san’s a menaceeee but so is the reader, dom leaning! san, sub leaning! reader, dirty talk, nipple play (m/f receiving), degradation, marking, brief spit mention (it wouldn’t be my fic if there wasn’t spit somewhere 🫶🏼), unprotected sex, impregnation kink (duh), there’s a big focus on cum bc i’m filthy, tiny mention of cum inflation, multiple creampies

a/n: i think this might be my favorite fff fic so far <3 i just really like the idea of alt metal ateez okayyy and plus san's my bias so i went completely off the rails 🥵 also no one asked but the lyrics of the song in the intro were taken from the ending of “kingslayer” by bring me the horizon and the bridge of “the death of peace and mind” by bad omens <3

FFF Masterlist

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“I can feel youuuuu!” San sang with every ounce of his being, bending himself backwards, his head hanging upside down, a few beads of sweat dripping from his temples. He stood back up and held onto his mic with a death grip, bringing one leg up onto the speaker that continued to blast out the loud, angsty instrumental. “Is this what you want?” The crowded chanted his name, fueling his ego and his wish to leave everything he possibly had to give on the stage.

“Then, this is what you fucking get,” he growled out, a few veins visibly straining against his freckled neck, his dark eyes filled with pure rage. “Augh!” Consumed with the energy of their performance, he tore his loose black tank top off in a downwards motion. The remaining fabric hung off of his frame, his perfectly toned upper body now on display for everyone and their mom to gawk at. When the music came to an intensely loud peak, he suddenly reached his arm out to point to someone who probably blew their load right then and there.“You motherfuckin’ shit!”

You were squished against the barricade, hardly paying attention to the rowdy people routinely bumping into you from all sides, too distracted by how mesmerizing San was onstage. And how incredibly wet you were. If Seonghwa was so fond of sharing himself with others, what was stopping you from doing the same thing?

San and the rest of the band, including Seonghwa, began banging their heads to the heavier-sounding combination of guitars, drums, and bass. “Put your hands up, motherfuckers,” San exhaled into the mic, scanning the crowd with his blown out irises, looking certifiably insane. He always stayed in character onstage, but how much of it was an over exaggeration and much of it melded with his true persona? Not knowing turned you on to a degree you were almost ashamed of.

Most of the crowd followed his lead, reaching a hand out into the air to put up the rock symbol, though a few girls were too busy ripping off their bras to toss in his direction. You simply stood there with your bottom lip trapped in between your teeth, waiting patiently for him to find you in the crowd. Once the lead singer’s hooded eyes were on you, you lifted your band hoodie up and allowed your tits to drop out of the thick material, bouncing a bit on your heels from your excitement.

San groaned at the sight of you, not having the self-control to keep himself from grabbing his half-hard cock through his tight pants. “Are you ready for this? I said, put your fucking hands up,” he shouted to the sea of people below him, not able to take another look at your bouncing tits when Seonghwa grabbed San by his small waist, his fingers hooking into the material of the lead singer's torn jeans, yanking him in his direction.

Licking his lips, San lifted his mic in between them, allowing Seonghwa to let out his own raspy yell, his voice starting low and guttural and eventually growing louder and raw, showing off his impressive pipes. San watched him with a fondness that bordered arousal, his hands sinking into the other’s damp raven locks, gripping it tightly. Seonghwa’s eyes rolled back, his fingers still expertly hitting note after note without much concentration, as though it were second nature.

“Are you satisfied?” San yelled out, expelling the air from his diaphragm in order to produce the perfect metal scream, almost being drowned out by the overwhelmingly heavy sound of guitar and drums. He tugged Seonghwa in his direction, pressing a rough kiss onto the guitarist’s open mouth, his tongue slipping inside. Once San got his fill, he shoved Seonghwa backwards, a small string of saliva dripping from their mouths. He bent over near the edge of the stage, squeezing the mic inside his calloused hands, his once slicked-back hair now falling into his eyes. Waiting for his cue, he took in a deep breath, his neck veins making a return, shouting with raw intensity, “Are you fucking satisfied?!”

The crowd lost their goddamn minds, cheering and shouting, some still holding their rock symbols up, and others too busy shedding a tear. Personally, you didn’t understand how you survived witnessing set after set for so long, or how anybody else did, for that matter. Their performances were always so viscerally stimulating, it physically hurt that you couldn’t simply jump onto the stage and let each of them use you to their heart’s content.

-

You found yourself standing at the door of Seonghwa’s hotel room, despite your plans to talk to San after the show ended. “Goddamn it,” you mumbled to yourself, wondering why you weren’t capable of playing hard to get around him for even a microsecond. Maybe if you did, you wouldn’t be the one waiting around for him.

Hearing your eventual knocks, Seonghwa answered the door, his raven hair wet and clinging to his bare face, remnants of mascara present underneath his eyes. Naked for only a moment, he wrapped a small towel loosely around his slender hips. “Baby, hey. What’d you think of the show?”

Your pensiveness melted in an instant, instead being replaced by your clear adoration for him. “God, I can’t even describe how it made me feel, Hwa. I just know how fucking wet it made me.”

He chuckled to himself, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe. “You’re always wet for me, Y/N.”

You took a step closer, your hand moving past his towel to lightly stroke his length, lifting yourself up onto your heels to whisper near his face, “Always.”

Seonghwa took in a deep inhale and let it out, leaning his head back, growing hard inside your grip. "Baby..." After a few moments, he brought himself back to reality, suddenly grabbing you by the chin and pressing a harsh kiss against your lips, only to push you away, a sad smile on his flushed face.

“Hwa…?” you mumbled, slowly retracting your hand, your eyes wide with surprise.

Two separate feminine voices came from the bed that was out of view, the both of them whining about how he was taking too long. Seonghwa sighed, rubbing his neck. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I should’ve told you I was busy tonight. Why don’t you visit San?”

“Maybe I will.” No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t keep your lips from forming a small pout, though you were able to furrow your brows in annoyance. “You know what?”

Seonghwa frowned, feeling bad, but knowing you wouldn’t want to join him as a third. You simply required too much attention from him in a group setting, unable to handle when he took care of others in front of you. “What?”

Your pout was replaced by a subtle, but distinctively smug smirk. “I’m gonna let him put a baby in me.”

-

Okay, take two. You knocked on San's hotel room door, unconsciously pulling on your hoodie strings, leaning back on your heels. You almost felt like you should back out, not wanting to get rejected by your idols one after another. Before you could take a step back, San opened the door halfway, giving you a lewd, almost cheshire-like smile, his eyes surveying your chest as though he were reminiscing about what had occurred an hour earlier. "What brings you here, doll?"

Wrapping one of the hoodie strings around your index finger, you looked up at him past your fluttering eyelashes, your tongue wetting the corner of your glossy lips. "Is that offer still good?"

San’s brown eyes dilated in real time, his face and body almost frozen like he was malfunctioning, before immediately turning around to yell at the half-dressed groupies lazing around on his bed. "Time for you guys to go! Something just came up, so go find another band member to fuck, alright?”

The group of girls and guys, some older and some younger, groaned and cursed amongst themselves, eventually filing out of the door, some of them giving you dirty looks. “You better fuck him good for us,” one of them grumbled near you, prompting you to emit a small ‘yep’, before he disappeared down the hallway with the rest of the groupies.

You turned your attention back to San who had already grabbed your wrist, pulling you into the room and shutting the door behind you, pressing you against it with his heated body. "You were about to fuck all those people?" you asked casually, reaching down to slip your hands underneath his sleep tee, your fingers exploring the soft curves of his hips and stiffness of his abdominal muscles, not able to decide which felt better underneath your touch.

"Yeah..." he sighed, arching his back slightly when you began to play with his pierced nipples. “I like performing for a crowd…” He eventually leaned his head into your shoulder, emitting small breaths of air, your fingers expertly tweaking and twisting the small metal bands to give him maximum pleasure.

“Of course you do.” You lifted San's shirt off of him, your fingers going back to his pebbled buds to play with them some more, pulling at his piercings, making him groan. "Do you fill all of them up with your cum, Sannie?"

“Uh-huhhh…” San exhaled into your neck, bringing one of his hands up to slip underneath your hoodie, grabbing onto one of your tits, squeezing it roughly inside the palm of his hand. “Every last one.”

You moaned, your fingers going lax for a moment, caught up with how San pushed both hands under your hoodie to knead your tits around, his fingers flicking your nipples. "Ahh, how do you not run out?"

He grinned after hearing the small squeaks you made when he pinched and pulled at them instead, mumbling in a deep voice near your ear, "I just have a lot of love to give, doll."

Boldly slipping your hand past his briefs and gripping his hardened cock, you asked in a sweet tone, "Does that mean you have a lot of love to give me?"

-

San had you folded up on the mattress, holding your ankles down near your head, slamming his hips into you so quickly and forcefully, neither of you could take a proper breath. He leaned his head down, his wet bangs tickling your forehead from being so close, chuckling softly at the sight of your starstruck expression. "You look like you want to say something, Y/N."

"You were—aaah—so amazing onstage earlier, Sannie..." you breathed out, your cunt clenching tightly around his throbbing cock, familiar with the warmth and thickness of his cum, knowing he was shooting more inside you. "You made me so fucking wet..."

Almost shuddering from how hard he was cumming, San buried his face into your hickey-covered neck, sucking on the skin of your collarbone, groaning out, “I already know how goddamn wet I made you. I bet those panties of yours were drenched by the end of the show, huh?" San moved down from your neck to your chest, slurping up each of your tits into his mouth, one at a time, giving them both the attention they deserved.

"I had to play with myself on the tour bus on the way back here..." you admitted, wanting to say more, but being unable to, emitting a sharp gasp instead. Your tits were a lot more sensitive now, especially from how San alternated between having them inside his mouth and using his tongue on them. “No one saw me though, I swear. I did it in the bathroom.”

He spit onto one of your already shiny tits, wanting to make more of a mess, before he dove in to suck and lick at them like he was racing against an invisible timer. "Mm, looks like babydoll can't get enough of me onstage...so much so that she resorts to being a needy little whore all by herself," he mumbled on your bruising skin, eagerly flicking his tongue at a nipple, making you squirm underneath him. "Bet you wanted me to pull you onstage and pump a baby into you in front of all those people, huh, naughty girl?”

"Yeah, I did...and it's your fault," you whined softly, emitting a set of soft, airy moans, San's cock brushing against your g-spot over and over. "Take responsibility, Sannie." Your fingers clenched into the muscles on his broad back, feeling them tense up underneath your touch.

"My fault? My fault you needed me so badly that you resorted to showing these pretty tits off in front of everyone?" Finding your dick-drunkenness to be amusing, he wanted to push the topic, pressing kisses to your neck up to your jaw, still thrusting into you at a fast pace. "It's my fault for turning you into a shameless little slut? Hm?"

"Yes!" you cried out, your voice broken and hoarse from how hard you were cumming, your trembling thighs squeezing around his tiny waist.

"Hm, I guess I should take responsibility, huh?" Blowing a few strands of hair out of his hooded eyes, he pulled out slightly, holding the tip of his cock against your pulsing hole. "I should take responsibility for all these fucking loads I'm filling you with too," he groaned, stroking himself for a few more seconds, his seed eventually spurting out onto your mound, the liquid dripping down along your puffy folds.

“Mm, fuck, that’s it,” you reacted, reaching down with one hand to rub his cum around your cunt, pushing two fingers inside your gaping hole to fuck the liquid into yourself. However, your fingers weren’t enough to satisfy you. You needed his cock inside. You needed to be filled with his hot, milky love one last time. “It’s not enough, Sannie. I need more.”

Your shameless desperation and insatiable lust was like chicken soup for his black soul, making him hard again almost instantaneously. “Yeah? You want to milk me completely dry, doll?”

“Yes, please.” You suddenly lunged up from the bed and pushed San down, his back hitting the mattress with a bounce, sinking down onto his length without a second thought, his cum being pushing out of you.

“God, yes, fucking ride me, you whore,” San growled, gritting his teeth, one hand gripping your hip tightly, the other on your lower stomach, allowing you to fuck yourself to hell and back using his cock. “You’re so full for me…so full of my seed…yet, it’s not enough…” He pressed on your abdomen, feeling some resistance, convinced that his cum was making your tummy swell slightly. “God, I fuckin’ love you…”

Bouncing on San’s dick with feverish speed, you started to pant heavily and drool a bit, not even caring that he was seeing you in such a fucked-out state. You were simply too desperate to make him cum again, to the point that you didn’t even care about reaching your own high. “Fill me up, Sannie. Please, please, please fill me up with your cum…Fuck it into me, into my womb…make me yours…”

Your whiny-sounding words and tight, cum-slicked cunt brought San to his end, making him shudder and thrust wildly up into you. “God, here it comes, baby…take my fucking load…” He let out a series of throaty, almost guttural groans, ramming himself into you until he held you completely still, slowly pumping his seed as deep as he possibly could.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah…” you echoed weakly, pretty sure you were unraveling in that instant from how insanely amazing it felt to be stuffed completely full of your favorite lead singer’s seed. If you were having a baby for anyone, it was definitely him.

Once you came back down to reality, your body felt heavy and almost numb, causing you to slowly drop down onto San’s chest, your sweaty, sticky bodies melding together. “That was…Fuck, I can’t even form the words…”

San stroked your wet hair, gazing up at the ceiling, the post-nut clarity incredibly kind to him this time around. “I might have to write a song about it.” You giggled softly, moving your fingers upwards to slip into his hair as well, gently massaging the shaved area of his hair near his pierced ear.

After some comfortable silence, San eventually inquired, "So, am I your favorite band member now?"

You lifted your head up, your skin still flushed beyond measure, bringing your hand to your mouth to wipe some drool away from your lips. "I don't pick favorites."

San burst out into laughter, patting the top of your head and giving you a pleased smile, his dimples making your heart race. "Now, that's a fucking lie."

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FFF: @hwalysm @scuzmunkie @creativechaoticloner @dilucpegg3r @yeosxxx @gemjimin @wonwowzers @sanjoongie @manipulatedstars @k-drizzle 

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

© toxicccred, 2023.

[velvetcrimsonkisses]

Nanami who pushes all his weight on you when he fucks. Strands of hair stuck to his forehead, beads of sweat forming on his face, and his warm skin slapping against yours creating immense pleasure between the two of you. Kissing you sloppily because he doesn’t care, all he needs right now is to feel the love of his life. Bare bodies pressed together, as his cock works diligently into you. Enthralled by your beauty and the faces of pleasure you make, he continues staring at you, madly in love. The peak of lust arriving soon, he buries his head into the crook of your neck, placing soft kisses into the sensitive area. He finishes inside making sure not to waste a single drop as he has one goal: to see you round with his child. 

Just a thought....

[drgnflyteabox]

can't get much better

pairing: ghost / simon riley x fem reader summary: simon is forced to take some time off - he makes the most of it. tags/warnings: very soft, pregnant sex, size difference, softdom!simon- he's a masculine man who doesn't let his lady lift a finger :'), oral (f), one (1) butthole kiss, dacryphilia, daddy kink (sigh), minor minor foot stuff, allusions to injuries and chronic pain, title from an adrianne lenker song w.c: 2.5k

You try very hard not to think about it, but it's hard not to notice how massive he is.

Even shirtless, he somehow looks bigger, muscles flush with heat and exertion under the sun. He toils and breathes hard like an ox, working while you sit on the porch wrapped in his big flannel. Wearing his clothes is like being swaddled in a blanket straight out of the dryer, warm and nostalgic and syrupy with love. It leaves you feeling some type of tender. You're afraid of that feeling sometimes, of how soft it is and how soft it makes you. He could ask anything of you, and you'd yield like he was pressing his thumb into a bruised peach.

You have.

"How are you two?" Simon is so quiet when he wants to be. One would think he'd clomp like a horse with how big he is, but he can float like dust. It used to startle you, but you've been sinking deeper into the memory foam mattress of this life with him and it doesn't anymore.

"Tired, even though I'm not doing anything," you squint at him through the late afternoon sun. It haloes him like an angel.

"You're growing my baby in there, love. That's not nothing," his voice is rough, it always will be. But it's rough now like earth and soil rather than rough with pain and smoke the way he'd sounded when you met him.

You're feeling especially nostalgic, it seems, not like it's hard here. His hand is warm on your belly.

"I guess so," you let him pet you for a moment. Your stomach is swollen but not as big as it'll get, just enough to veto pants. A few months to go still. "How's your back?"

"Argh," Simon says, taking a heavy seat next to you. Dismissive and yet he groans a little when his muscles unclench. Classic.

You slowly reach up and nudge him until he's facing the field opposite to you, face toward the golden afternoon sun and his back to you. He's never asked you to do this, to take care of him, but it's your favourite thing in the world.

His back is always rock-hard no matter how many times you take your knuckles and fingers to it. Just a condition of a hard life lived for him, countless falls and impacts and pushing through injuries. There's a slight slant to his spine now that isn't there in the pictures he's shown you of his youth, but the stiffness is the same. You might've said he was born to be a soldier, had you not known him as a father. He could do both, but - you'd never say this out loud - you were privately grateful for this injury. It wouldn't take him out forever, but the recovery would be long. Long enough to get the homestead started, to get you pregnant.

Simon would never be completely still. This was compromise. Sweet compromise, a life started and time with him you could think back on the next time he shipped out. Making the most of things, he would always say. Making the time count.

"That feels good, love" he groans. Bending forward slowly, relaxing, he's like an aloof stallion finally accepting an apple from your hand. Acquiescing. Showing you his back. It's trust, and you savour it.

"I bet it does," you tease back, just a little. Your fingers are nimble and attuned to his specific aches and pains. "Are you hungry for dinner?"

"I'm hungry for something," he turns, slowly, hands reaching for your thickened waist. Huge, work-roughened hands. War-roughened hands, holding you like a delicate egg. Sometimes it feels like he's the only thing that holds you together; all your pieces, everywhere, until he's holding you.

Kissing him is a contact sport. It's his hands moving, cupping your breast and then your pussy through your panties, your own hands wrapping around his broad shoulders like he's the only thing keeping you from drowning. It's open-mouthed, breathing into each other. Impossibly, you get softer, melting like ice on a hot day. 

Before you can lean back on the bench, he stands and lifts you with him. He's still hot from the day, damp with sweat, pushing you into the house while kissing you still.

"Simon-" you start, with no goal in mind. "Please."

"I've got you, love," he murmurs. He always does. Before you know it, you're laid back onto the plush armchair in your living room. Simon knows this is the most comfortable place for your newly-aching body. Affection swells in your chest uncontrollably and comes out through your eyes leaking down your face. Sure, pregnancy makes people emotional - but you're still embarrassed, touched by how considerate he is.

"It's alright, shh," he thumbs the tears at the corner of your eyes. His cock tents his work pants, aroused by them. "Let me take care of you."

The next words he murmurs are into your cunt, right over your panties, tongue laving over the already-wet fabric. "Just need your daddy, don't you?" You clench in tandem with his words, hot all over, skin prickling. He pushes your dress up, bunching it right under your tits.

It's reminiscent of how you spent the first night with him, on the very first day you'd met. Hurried, his big head between your thighs and clothes hanging off you still while he made you fall apart.

He's fucking good at it, too. Pulls your panties to the side and builds up the pressure with which he sucks on your clit, softly and then harsher until you shake. You've been extra horny lately, always wet around him and always so swollen. The scrape of his five-o-clock shadow against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh is what tips you over, clamping his head tightly and shouting your orgasm into the heady summer air.

"That all it takes?" Simon grins, chin wet, fingers moving from your hips to your pussy to gently rub along your slit.

"Give me a second, please," it's humbling how quickly you come nowadays. Quick and intense. Fireworks.

You set your foot on his shoulder and he turns towards it, kissing your ankle. Patience is rare with him, something come about only since you confirmed your pregnancy. You miss being overwhelmed by him, miss the nights where he'd guide you over the edge one, two, three times in succession.

He pushes now, just a little, not waiting for your go-ahead but watching you intently. His fingers spread your cunt in a V and he puffs a breath on your sensitive clit. You jump. He grins again, leaning down to lick you, using one hand to hold both your legs under your knees and push them until they meet the soft bump of your belly.

"Hold them there," he says. It's spoken not to you, but to your hole, which he spears his tongue into. You obey as you're helpless to do, holding your legs up and giving him an unimpeded view. It's more than vulnerable, it's not only baring yourself to him completely but giving him the authority to do what he wants. What you need.

Simon eats you out like it's a kiss, slurping you down and letting you leak until the evidence of your weakness to him is all over you. Your legs are wet, and it drips down onto your other hole. He pushes a thumb into your cunt, dipping it in and out.

"Needed me, did'ya? Watched me all day," he's so smug, sometimes. His lips find your bare foot, kissing your sole. "Been wet like this all day?" His other hand finds the meat of your asscheek, spreading you open further, letting the split of you open to him. He leans down, kissing your inner thigh, then your other hole. You whine and clench your pussy around his thumb. 

"So needy," he murmurs, finally finally moving back to your clit. Flicks his tongue over it, something that might've been teasing before but is intense now. Your hands tighten against your legs, head thrown back.

"Oh please- Simon!" You shout again, abs drawing up, stars in your eyes. "Ahh- I'm-"

"I know, honey," his lips suction again around the hard little pebble of your clit, eating like a man starved. 

This is how he likes you. Losing control, coming apart, helplessly vocal against the onslaught of his tongue. No matter how many times you've done this, it never gets old. The release almost always makes you cry, especially intense like this. You're wet all over, face and cunt and legs. He is, too.

"You still with me, love?" He pets your flank like you're a horse.

"Yes," but that's not what he wants.

"Yes what?"

"Yes, daddy."

"Good girl," and fuck if that doesn't always fill you with warm fuzzy energy. Wipes your brain, keeps you soft and floaty.

He guides you up and out of the armchair, lifts you into his arms when your legs shake too much. That electric feeling is still coursing through you, tingles in your extremities as they come back to life.

The hand he strokes over you is half affectionate, half proprietary. You've been his since the first time he laid eyes on you.

He reminds you of it as he sets you down gently on the bed, your hair a halo around your head and hands reaching to his face where you pull him down for a kiss. Hands find his shirt, pulling it off you, and then the dress. Fingertips touch the headboard, your arms stretching up, making room for him. Slips your panties down your legs.

It's a lingering, indulgent kiss. Breathing each others air, gasping into his mouth, he puts his elbows by your head and lays as much weight down as he can without cramping your full belly. He's as vocal as you, groaning and rutting like a dog.

"Ready for me, sweet girl?" He leans out of the kiss, sitting back on his heels. You nod, desperate and pulsing between the legs again like you didn't just come twice.

"Daddy's gonna take care of you, don't you worry," he rearranges you like a doll, turning you to your side and getting between your legs. A pillow is tucked under your belly, and he tests your flexibility by holding your leg tight to the length of his body. Your hamstring burns a little with it.

A hand holds your knee, another to your waist. His jeans scrape against your sensitive skin.

You focus on little details. His scar, touching his eyebrow and splitting through his nose, ending down by his jaw. The knuckles on his fingers holding your knee, and how rough the pads of his fingers feel on your waist. This man has never had soft hands in his life. Those same hands capable of so much force, so much violence, the very same that hold you and guide you. A shepherd, you his lamb.

The weeping head of his cock kisses your hole, catching there and traveling up. He taps it against your clit until you're tensing, whining, needy again. Tears down your cheeks.

He steadies you, pets your waist, guides his cock inside and it feels like you can breathe again. His mouth laves hot kisses over your ankle, the sole of your foot again, reverent and controlling all at once. The stretch burns - it always does, and maybe always will. Simon is just so big, thick all around and the mushroom head of him could always bump your cervix if he's not careful.

He's careful now, but only just. You can sense his control fraying, his hips driving forward steadily but his thighs tensing and his grip getting meaner. This is your favourite part. Watching him sweat, breathe hard, taking his pleasure in you.

"Yeah-" he cuts himself off with a long, drawn out groan. Deep, from the bottom of his belly and out. "Already so full of me, aren't ya? Can't get full enough."

You plead with your sounds, words out of your grasp. Your hands clutch at the sheets but it isn't enough. He's solid, he's your anchor, but he's losing himself in your cunt and you're free falling.

"Play with your tits for me," he commands, pumping faster. You're reflexively tightening around him, clit jumping for attention, squeaking each time he lets himself in as deep as possible and touches the mouth of your cervix.

Sunlight slowly fades on the bed, the last golden rays escaping out the window as you're bathed in dusk. 

There's nothing to do but obey, hands finding your swollen breasts and squeezing. They've been sore and huge, like that week before you get your period only it's been a couple months. None of your bras fit anymore.

Simon appreciates it, he loves it. Has you cooking for him with your tits out, nipples peaked and pussy leaking. They bounce, now, stopped only by your hands pinching and twisting. It's insane - no one in the world could replicate the feeling. No artist, no musician. Electricity zips from your breasts down to your clit and shit - you might come just like this, untouched, just full of your man and fondling yourself.

"Fuck, I can feel you squeezing me. Fucking," he pants, leaning over you, bending your leg. "Pinching my dick, sweetheart. Your pussy's so fucking good."

The orgasm begins in your toes, tingling. Your muscles tighten, drawing up, up, towards your cunt, which is making obscene sounds around him.

Simon sees the signs, sees your eyes rolling and your body going taut. He abandons your leg in favour of rubbing your clit with two big fingers quickly, up and down.

"That's it, sweetheart, come all over my cock. Go on," his voice is a snarl, barely distinguishable as human, beastly. "Be good for daddy.”

It's like the crescendo of an orchestra, like a summer afternoon in august, like waking up without a clogged nose after being sick, it's - really fucking good. You're near sobbing, crying out his name, abandoning your tits to reach for him desperately. He meets you halfway, shuddering his own orgasm into you. The press of his hips against yours is better than buttered toast, the delicate press of his chest against yours as he lets your leg go is bliss.

"Si-imon," you slur, hands on his cheeks. He laughs and kisses your forehead.

"What's that, sweet girl?"

"I love you," you cry a little more then, feeling him pull out and lay next to you. You're boneless.

"I love you too," his arm reaches across you, pulling you into him. "Both of you." Hand on your belly again.

"That was insane," you pant. He barks a laugh against your hair. "I'm serious."

"I know you are, love," he kisses your forehead, petting your stomach. You can tell it's meaning, can feel the gratefulness behind the kiss. He's saying thank you, for staying with him, for making him a father. Your hand finds his, squeezing back a wordless reply. Of course, it says.

<3

[gojoshooter]

HER HO!NY HUSBAND : GOJO SATORU

tw. suggestive, gojo flashes his goodies

Husband!Gojo coming out of the shower with a wet muscular body and a piece of towel hanging along his waist—only to see his wife laying on the bed right in front of him.

Pregnant Wife!Yn who had been insecure of her growing belly and weight since a couple months due to her pregnancy, watches Gojo check her from head to toe, an unexplainable look on his handsome pale face.

Sitting upright, she fixes her loose garments. Maybe he’s finally come to the realisation of not being such a big fan of my mom body.

Husband!Gojo sensing her dejected mood, snaps out of his internal thoughts as he decides to reach out and sit next to her instead.

“Baby? Something’s bothering?” he asks softly, tucking a long strand of hair behind her ear.

Pregnant Wife!Yn ever a self-conscious overthinker, mumbles while looking up at her husband, “I saw you gazing at me few a many times now...” she fixes her garment again, in embarrassment “like... weirdly. You start looking stiff all of a sudden, as if you want to confess something. About my bad shape maybe.”

At her confession, Satoru pauses, lips parted open slightly and not sure which part to explain first. He brings a wet but comforting hand on her swollen belly.

“Silly girl. Are you worrying about your plump little adorable tummy again? I told you I like it.”

Pregnant Wife!Yn frowns, not really sure of his words. “Really? Then how would you explain everytime you stopped to stare at me? Your face doesn't seem as if you love it—or even like it, Toru.”

Husband!Gojo who shakes his head, body turning more towards her distressed wife. “I don't like it? I love you and every part of you babe, you know me.”

Yn sighs softly, looking down with an upset face. “I do... but maybe i shouldn't have asked for a baby. I just... I feel like you'd have appreciated my old body more, Toru.”

Satoru snaps his head towards her, eyebrows raised in disbelief. This was his last straw. She has to know what his pregnant, innocent wife does to him.

As he stands up slowly from the edge of the bed, he makes sure she's all eyes and ears. “Oh really now. Then I must give you a real reason to never regret your baby with me...”

Undoing the towel hooked on his dripping wet waist, the white haired man reveals his lower half of the riches. As her eyes set down, there comes in view an almost fully hard wet length of Gojo Satoru.

Pregnant Wife!Yn being taken aback, is unable to react for a good few first seconds, mouth agape. Light hue of red crawls up the neck to settle on her cheeks, when her husband hums in question.

“Mm? You see this? This is what you do to me, silly girl.”

Everything seemed suddenly more reasonable—Gojo stealing those frequent long gazes, his odd body language while he checks his pregnant wife out. Gojo gets aroused.

Pregnant Wife!Yn tears her gaze away from his manhood, cold sweat making her feel more or less like her currently out of shower dripping wet husband. Oh the thoughts that might be running in his perverted brain, all the ways he could take you in and you wouldn't be moving away with all the weight you bear of his baby, but comply, and relish, and whine.

“Oh-oh...” she mumbles shyly, the revelation lessening her insecurity effectively more than all sweet words combined could have ever had.

an. husband gojo >>> also this is my 1k readers special! ty for giving my writings your time, love y'all. likes & rbs are appreciated <33

tags: @anubisisthebomb @dianagracesworld @stellagrangerreads12 @momochina-sama @xxkay15xx @ruins-posts

[kcrra]

it makes me literally sick to think about alicent's relationship to her children. like. they are all she has. she loves them more than anything and hates them just as much. each of them is a shackle around her neck. they are her babies even though she was a baby herself, forced to be their mother. she'll pick up a knife for them. they are her living prison. everything she ever does is for them. their very existence makes her sick. she understands them and yet doesn't know them at all. they are her future. they stole her past.

she was 15 years old tethered to a rotting body of a man entirely against her will, watching each of her children invade her body as a result of martial rape. how were they ever supposed to have a normal relationship!!!!!!!

[bubblebellyrubs]

Ooof. I don’t think this air is ever coming out of the big belly 😮‍💨

[psycheetamore]

Well played Tumbler, very clever - but I don't need a guide to get pregnant by Tommy Shelby... we both already know what to do... 🫦

[turnipoddity]

happy uzumaki day to y’all who celebrate 🌀

[spinaholi]

gender euphoria? nah, have you tried dome hysteria? that’s when it’s 3am in a warehouse in la and you need a ride home. symptoms also include pissing constantly, eating a jam and egg bagel, and smelling like a dutch teen

[fexjam]

Скетчі.

[3liza]

the number of afab people replying to the pain poll going "yeah I've broken limbs and had 1st degree burns and given birth but nothing tops my menstrual pain" is so fucked up it is unbelievable. and I was right there with everyone else until I stumbled on a low dose progestin regimen that just made me stop menstruating. which I would recommend to everyone except it just doesn't work for everyone. ask your doc about it though, it won't cause permanent side effects or injury to try it out. i take norethindrone 2.5mg 2x/day. this dose has to be different for each patient to work correctly, that's just what I take. there's some research to suggest synthetic progesterone like norethindrone is carcinogenic so I'm going to look into switching. anyway i just got extremely lucky. there is seriously nothing like it. it was the worst pain I ever felt until the urology incident and frankly I think the menstrual pain was already a factor in the outcome of the urology incident

[bubblebellyrubs]

A little weekend getaway has made me MIA for the last few days so I’m sorry if I haven’t responded! However, I’m back! Super sunburned, and thanks to a weekend full of tons of drinking and good food-I’m currently trying to figure out how to relieve some of the tightest bloating I’ve ever experienced 😣

[transpecter]

giant submissive werewolf boyfriend lapping at my cunt and pathetically humping the mattress until he cums everywhere WHEN