Kay, 29f 🇨🇦. Pregnancy, breeding, and expansion kink. Breeder wishing for multiples one day. DM me your pregnancy-related questions 💌. If you’re not 18+, you are not welcome.
My name is Kay, I’m a ‘96 baby and I’m a pansexual cis woman in a committed relationship.
I’ve been collecting pregnancy-related content for years. There’s nothing that gets me off like the idea of being heavily pregnant and packed with multiples to the point of borderline discomfort. Realistically, pregnancy is not in the cards for me yet no matter what my urges insist.
That said, tumblr does a good job of helping me scratch the itch. I hope you’ll follow me here and enjoy everything sexy about pregnancy. I will finally be opening up my vault of favourite posts to the public.
When the day comes that I become pregnant, you’d better believe I’ll be savouring every moment of it and sharing it with the world. Pregnancy is so sexy and fulfilling and I can’t wait to achieve that goal in my life the fun way. <3
Warnings: 18+. If y’all don’t like an age gap and a nasty, nasty breeding kink, DO NOT read this shit—I’m serious. Unprotected p-in-v. Daddy kink. Jealous!Joel. Feral!Joel. Cumplay à la sucking Joel’s dick clean after he fucks you.
Note: This is a one shot in the Waiting Game universe. If I had to guess, I’d say it takes place between Homemade & Ruined!
Another Note: ‘Sweet Emotion’ by Aerosmith is the song Joel’s listening to when he’s trying to kill his boner LOL.
Word count: 3.5k
Joel’s mind was always buzzing with bad ideas.
He’d left for work that morning with his dick as hard as steel, balls as heavy as rocks, and you, gorgeous and naked and entirely unfucked in his king-sized bed.
Idiot that he was, he forgot to buy condoms last week. You’d cleared all thirty-six of the rubbers he’d had during your most recent visit from college, and since then, Joel had been meaning to restock, but it just slipped his mind—now, he was suffering the consequences of that oversight in spades, as he hadn’t been able to get his typical fill of you before he left for work. Or last night.
You’d so sweetly suggested some 69 action after he’d picked you up from the airport the night before, knowing just how badly you wanted each other—despite the fact that it was three A.M. and you happened to be ovulating. But it wasn’t meant to be. No sooner had Joel shucked off his boots, jeans, boxers, and shirt and crawled into the space beside you in bed than you were passed out. Snoring loudly and lying splayed between his sheets without the faintest idea of how horny the old man was.
There is something very wrong with me, he thought.
He’d been so pent-up and wild with thoughts of you writhing underneath him, cunt snug around his cock, that he hadn’t even been able to rub one out after that. It was like some maggot had crawled its way inside his head and had him needing insane things. Stupid things.
Shit that would legitimately get him locked up, or kicked to the doghouse, if he ever shared these thoughts aloud.
He wanted to pump you full of cum.
He craved the feeling of you leaking him.
He felt an urge to fill you like he never had before.
Had he really forgotten to buy those condoms last week? Or had it been the workings of his own subconscious mind, begging him to test the waters of what you would look like flush with that milky white substance and drip—
Shit.
Joel almost spilled his piping hot two-dollar coffee from the gas station onto his pants. Again. He cut the wheel and made the turn, set the cup in its little holder, and, without a second thought for his own well-being, cranked the car stereo to fifty. Fuck his hearing.
‘SWEEEEEEEET EMOOOOOTION!’
That should do the trick.
It seemed deafening himself with classic rock was the only way Joel could keep some semblance of composure today. Admittedly, it worked wonders. He learned it was much harder to stay horny when your head was ringing.
Of course, it had been just his luck that before he’d been able to stop by H-E-B to buy rubbers on his lunch break, you’d called and said you needed a ride from the repair shop. Apparently, your dad’s truck was all kinds of fucked up and he’d asked you to drop it off at the mechanic that afternoon. You’d needed a ride home after, and Joel had only too happily, and hornily, obliged.
He was still stiff as shit pulling into the parking lot a minute later. He reached for the radio dial again but quickly found that he’d turned it all the way to its limit.
His phone buzzed in his pants.
Your name was on the screen.
I gotta fill out some bullshit paperwork. Come on in.
You must’ve seen him park the Bronco from inside.
Is that you blasting Aerosmith in your car? 🤨
Joel let out a sigh and shut off the engine.
Readjusting his rock-hard cock in his jeans, he went in.
And the moment he stepped in there, he regretted it. Joel got exactly one foot inside the door before his eyes nearly bugged out of his head and his jaw hit the floor.
You were signing paperwork alright—bent over the front desk where everyone in the waiting room of the repair shop could see right up your miniskirt. Joel choked.
There had to be fifteen men in there, at least. All but one old guy dozing off in the corner were gawking at your backside pushed up in the air. Joel saw you shuffle some papers around, eyeball a form and pose a question to the man behind the desk, who was also trying his damndest not to stare, and then hum something low. You laughed.
You were so naïve.
As if a switch had flipped in his head and every thought thenceforth was from a place of being an overprotective, asshole-ish, caveman of a guy, Joel strode in, scowling.
He shot pointed, putrid looks of disdain at every shameless voyeur drinking you in with their eyes, and, to his surprise, a couple turned their gazes guiltily away.
That’s right. Keep your fucking eyes to yourself.
Then, without even really meaning to think it:
She’s all mine. So don’t get your hopes up.
Would anyone in there think you were with him? Did it even matter? In that moment, Joel didn’t give a shit. He just walked in with his head up, jaw clenched, and eyes shooting daggers at every scumbag who dared to keep looking. He approached the front desk just as you turned
“Oh! Hey.” You breathed a sound of surprise, smiling. “You scared the shit out of me. I’ll just be a minute.”
You had about thirty seconds before he yanked you out by that little skirt and drilled you on the hood of his car.
Instead of saying that, though, Joel just frowned.
“C’mon, kid, I got places to be. Hurry it up.”
You flashed him a puzzled look but said nothing in reply. He hadn’t expected you to, seeing how occupied you were with discussing your old man’s truck’s transmission flush, tire rotation, wiper blade replacement, and on and on and on until Joel’s head was spinning with all the jargon. Since when did you know about ignition coils?
No matter.
Just a few more action items to parse through, then you’d swipe your card and get the hell out of there.
“I mean…do y’all have to replace that cabin air filter? Can’t my dad do that himself? Or just wait a little bit?”
Surely you knew you were torturing him now.
There was no way you weren’t doing this on purpose.
The shop employee scratched the back of his neck and gave a sheepish smile, right after he’d unglued his gaze from the cleavage spilling out of your top. He coughed.
“Well…well, uh, see here, our last service report says…”
Joel didn’t give a flying fuck what the service report said. He tuned out the rest of what the little pervert was trying to tell you then and turned to face the waiting room with a flinty, stern look. Several sets of eyes snapped away.
One in particular, he noticed, didn’t flinch at all.
Of course it belonged to some shit-brained kid. Probably only two or three years out of high school and ogling you like a slab of meat while his father sat beside him, trying to do the same but slightly more discreetly. How polite.
It was almost as if Joel had acquired some supersonic hearing ability over the last five minutes, and he could somehow tell what the ass-hat was muttering to his dad.
‘Hell, I’d like to bend her over a desk myself.’
His father grinned, eyes wandering again.
‘Yeah. I bet she’d like that. Love it, even.’
Fuck this.
Technically, Joel hadn’t heard the words come out of their mouths, but the intentions had been behind their eyes all the same. He hated it. The longer he stood here with you, the more the odds grew he’d end up decking someone, or throwing a chair at their head, so he swiftly tilted and pressed a touch to your elbow. It amazed him how gentle it was, given the bloodlust percolating within.
“Honey, we need to go,” he told you, voice low.
“What?” You turned. Brows furrowing. “Why?”
Because every swinging dick in this establishment wants to get in you. Let’s dip before I kill someone.
“Because I’m paying for all the repairs. C’mon.”
Before Joel could even begin to contemplate the ramifications of this offer—exactly how much cash he’d be blowing on his best friend’s truck thanks to his impulsiveness—he slid his credit card across the desk and jerked his head toward the door. Telling you to go.
“Joel, you can’t—” you’d just started to say.
“Now that’s a real fine thing to do for your daughter, b—”
It was the latter of these two statements, seemingly spoken at once, that Joel paid any mind at all. The stranger behind the desk’s thinking that he was your dad, and not your partner, made his blood boil beneath the skin. His conviction to do this only grew stronger.
Suddenly, Joel was turning his body to you. Leaning down, gripping your chin in one hand, and letting his mouth land firmly on yours, so that there would be no mistaking who he was, or what he was to you. Not today.
Your lips were warm, and they kissed him back gently. When he’d pulled away, your face, and every expression around yours was painted with some degree of surprise.
The man behind the desk cleared his throat: ‘Uh, sorry.’
Not the dad. Got it.
Joel was glad to spread the message, even if your gaze was lingering on his with a wordless little threat, like you would get him for this. He just grinned and nodded to the door again, then watched you leave, skirt swishing and bobbing all the way to the door. Hardly any eyes followed now, as most were too busy flitting to him.
Good.
Great.
“That’ll be $4,898.72, sir.”
Goddamn.
You hadn’t seen Joel this feral in ages.
Hell, maybe ever.
His cock seemed to be cleaving your body in half with how hard his thrusts were coming in now. How loud those wet slaps against the swell of your ass rang out through the cramped backseat of his car, how deep his tip sank, and how quickly the motions repeated, like Joel was beating a drum somewhere far down in your cervix.
Your eyes rolled. Jaw slackened. Tongue darted from either corner of your lips to lap away the spit that was trickling out. Joel was fucking you that hard. His strokes jostled your body, dick wedging deep and unforgiving, and his eyes were alight with a look you couldn’t quite decipher. Your own vision was blurring at the edges.
“Tell me it’s mine,” Joel panted against your neck.
Then, as if his hips had been made to pummel at this relentless, frantic pace, he lowered his torso to yours and drilled away even quicker. The force and the friction were so great you had only to grip his forearms and meet his gaze, barely able to get the words out: ‘Y—Yours, Joel.’
Doing this the day after your period tracker claimed you’d been ovulating probably wasn’t the best idea. Insane as he was with desire, the thought did also seem to cross Joel’s mind as he pounded away. More than once, his brow pinched, and his hips made as if to stutter to a halt. Then the need kicked in. The thing picked up again, harder than it had before, and Joel was back to fucking you hard on the upholstered seats of his Bronco.
Above you, his jaw clenched. His teeth ground tighter.
“This…” he grit out, as if words evaded him. “…OK?”
Yes, Joel.
You’d never seen such bare-faced need from him in all your life, and you loved it. It wasn’t just the expression of a man in love—which he was—but also the face of a person in pain. Someone whose need for your touch was so agonizingly great that he was blind to anything else. Joel lifted his arms to bracket your head so he could get in even closer, and his frantic pants warmed your cheeks. Come evening, you’d happily be popping Plan Bs like candy if it meant another moment of seeing him like this.
Sweat glistened on his brow and in between spatterings of silver and black along his jaw. His gaze was hard and determined, like he was contemplating something else.
Slowly, and with legs trembling against his sides at every thrust, you reached to cup his face. You stroked it gently.
“Is—Is everything alri—”
“I wanna cum inside you.”
Joel’s voice was deadpan, with no preamble or warning. Mere inches from your face, his own was twisted in that strange, pained look. His cock twitched; its pace slowed.
Your walls clamped around him instinctively. You blinked.
“W-What?”
“Wanna fill you up.”
There wasn’t a shred of hesitation in his tone as his hips rocked steadily against you. If anything, his grip grew even tighter, like he was trying to press you down.
“But Joel, I’m—” Another clench. Another strangled breath. “I still might…be…ovulating. And you’re…”
“Old enough to be your father, ain’t I?” he sneered. “Least, that’s what everybody in that shop seemed to think. What if you made me one today, hm, sweet pea?”
He didn’t mean it.
Joel knew how bad it’d be if he really knocked you up. Just the same, you couldn’t contain the sharp, startled whimper as his cock stirred inside you and that thought took shape—his hot and sticky seed being shot in ropes, painting your needy walls, making you so, so full of him.
Your lizard brain didn’t bat an eye at that.
Blame it on ovulation, a glaring oversight in sex education, your undoubtedly compromised morals or whatever the case may have been, but you wanted it.
You needed him in, making a mess where he shouldn’t.
With sunlight bathing you both in the backseat of Joel’s car, classic rock drifting through the speakers, and one handsome, weathered, earnest expression hovering over yours with the faintest of smiles, how could you refuse?
He sped up again. The hands that had slid to your hips constricted to an almost suffocating level, but it was possessive. Protective. Envy sparked in Joel’s eyes.
“Don’t want nobody oglin’ what’s mine, y’hear?”
It was a question, but it didn’t warrant a reply.
You nodded anyway, watching the older man’s gaze shift from your eyes to your lips to your breasts to, eventually, the sight of his length plunging in and out of your body below. Your eyes trailed after it, and you watched one hand of his move from your hip to your ribs. Rubbing.
Your wet and pliant hole took him with ease and welcomed him in. The sounds of your shared fluids were obscene, but it made the kind of wild, dizzying refrain you knew you wouldn’t be able to forget for years, if ever.
Slowly, Joel’s palm slid over, and his fingers splayed out.
His hand rested flat against your belly as he fucked you with abandon. At a particularly deep thrust, it was as if you felt him all the way up in your lungs, and your throat pushed out a cry. Your legs tightened around Joel’s waist, and you knew the end wasn’t far from sight.
“All—All—All yours, daddy. Cum in me, please.”
Joel’s fingers flexed gently on your tummy, then he moved them back and forth as his dick did the same.
The friction nearly sent your mind in a spiral; you glanced down, and you saw his outline, faintly, under that touch.
Joel was so big, and your body was lying perfectly supine on the seat that you could feel him—see him—push repeatedly inside you. A little bulge took shape where his hand was pressing in, and the sensation was overwhelming. Your hands slid to Joel’s hair and yanked.
“Fill me—wanna feel you, daddy, please just fill me—”
“Think a little swell in that belly’ll keep those boys from lookin’, huh? Is that what I gotta do to show ‘em you’re—”
“Yes! Fuck!” you whined.
“—always gonna be mine?”
Joel’s thrusts were relentless. Your brain was on the fritz. Your hips tried to lift, mindlessly, begging him to fill you with his cum, but the man had you pinned underneath him. Sweat drenched you both, and the wildest ideas were humming between you. You were almost there.
“That’d be one way to tell your dad, huh?” Joel panted.
Oh, fuck.
“Have you come home from college all swole up with my kid—he couldn’t keep us apart then, huh?” he went on.
Your father would probably skin him alive if he found out. Still, your lips parted, and you dumbly, sweetly mumbled, OK, OK, Joel. Give me one. Make me a mommy, please.
Joel almost lost his hold on your hip and your belly with that last part; he all but folded in on you with that request. Breathily, through his teeth, he gritted:
“You mean that, baby?”
Again, you nodded.
Momentarily forgetting the outline of his cock in your tummy, the thought of seeing you leaking his cum and squirming for more, it seemed, Joel just sank into you.
He bracketed his arms around your head like he had before, flattened his chest to yours, and fucked you.
It was primal. Needy. Wet. Insatiable. You probably looked feral and senseless, and neither of you cared.
Overhead, the strains of an old ZZ Top song reached a crescendo, and Joel’s eyes stayed locked on yours. His cock stretched you in a way that seemed implausible—you felt him from root to tip and could sense the oncoming pulses before they ever left a drop.
Then Joel kissed you. In his warm, soft, and loving way, his lips melded to yours and caressed them continually. Though it might’ve only lasted a few seconds, the effect was profound, and you found yourself pulling him deeper. Squeezing him tight and taking him whole.
“You really wanna have a baby with me, Miller?”
“Nope.” Joel’s response was instantaneous.
“Wh—”
“Eight kids, at least. You OK with that?”
If you weren’t on the verge of climax, you would’ve laughed in his face. But because you were, and you happened to be head over heels in love with this man, you grinned, nodding. Joel smiled and kissed you again.
“Alright. First one’s comin’ now if you’ll just—oh, fuck.”
It seemed like Joel wanted to drag things out a little longer, but his body had other plans. Yours did, too.
Right as your walls clenched and your senses started to flood with those sweet, euphoric feelings, Joel’s cock throbbed once. Twice. Again and again, unleashing ropes of his cum in a seemingly endless stream. Your heels dug deep in Joel’s back, and your jaw fell open, instinctively. While that sticky-wet warmth filled your insides and Joel continued pounding away, a shriek clawed out from you.
It started as a cry and quickly morphed into a moan, shrill as anything: “Please, baby. Please, please, please.”
You never thought you’d want to upend your life with a child before you even graduated from school or got a job.
Joel clearly hadn’t been planning for that either, and still, his voice was as slow and sweet as molasses in your ear.
“Take it all now, darlin’. That’s it. That’s my girl. So good.”
He stroked your hair and emptied himself completely. His balls must’ve been drained, because you could sense what felt like a torrent of warmth between your legs.
When he pulled out, you both groaned at the sight.
Joel was drenched in his cum and yours. Dripping.
Still oozing a little at the tip, the old man was spent, and it appeared he was about to give himself a good shake and wipe it all off, when you stopped Joel in his tracks.
Your mouth watered as you watched him. You swallowed.
You didn’t even bother to ask for what you wanted, just stuck out your tongue and peered up with doe eyes.
Joel groaned and nodded. He shuffled closer and lowered himself in until his tip was at your mouth.
Your lips closed around him, and your head bobbed down. As his cock filled you whole, your mind went blank. It wasn’t even a matter of sucking him off or getting him clean; you just needed to feel and taste the cum that had sprayed your insides. You craved the scent of the sweet, affectionate man who was well over twice your age and still on board with giving you his babies.
Even if it was just a fantasy between you both…for now.
You hadn’t even realized your eyes had closed until your lips slipped off him with a pop, and your vision suddenly brightened. You eyed Joel curiously from below, and your heart skipped a beat when you could see he was smiling.
Before he could speak, or else try to clean you up any himself, your own lips twitched a little at the corners. Your gaze searched Joel’s with a soft, tender intensity, and for a second, you debated whether or not to say it.
Quickly, you made your choice.
Just as Joel was about to lean down to reach for his clothes, maybe search the floor for a clean t-shirt or towel to wipe you both down with, his eyes were still glued to yours, and your grin was slowly growing bigger.
Joel cocked a brow in question, and you went on ahead, fighting the urge to laugh while you said, sweet as ever:
“So…it looks like my little miniskirt trick actually worked.”
And if I said Reader got pregnant with twins…THEN WHAT
Should I skip my birth control and let him breed me? Clearly both of us are turned on by the idea of me being pregnant and we both want kids, soooo…
Idk, I just want to skip to the part where my belly is so swollen and he’s gently fucking me while holding it and watching it move. Watching the baby bump he gave me bounce as he fills me up with more of his seed 🤤
