#preg fic

[bananasforsnacktime]

I’ve been insatiable since you got me pregnant.

I’m laying in bed, and I can still feel your cum between my legs from an hour ago, but I’m staring at the ceiling and I know I need to cum again.

I start to tease my nipples, now starting to swell and become even more sensitive. I moan, and you wake up. “Hmm, again already, mama?” you ask, sleepily kissing my neck.

“Mmhmm,” I moan in response.

Your mouth drifts down to my nipple, and I groan in pleasure. I feel your hand across my belly, then your fingers are between my legs. You use your own cum as lube, rubbing circles around my throbbing clit, then slipping one finger inside me, then another.

“Love you pregnant,” you whisper. “Love you so much.”

“Ahh-ah!” I moan in response, arching my back, so grateful for the release.

“Want to make you feel so good while you grow our baby,” you say as you slip your fingers out of me and rest your hand on my belly again until we fall asleep.

[exponenshul]

Well, it finally happened…Wattpad decided to wipe one of my stories from the platform. I must have jinxed it by talking about it the other day!

My series “Host,” which I think had racked up nearly 200k views on the platform, has sadly been removed in its entirety for violating ToS. (Fair play by Wattpad honestly, but still sucks)

Fortunately the story is still available on deviantART and I don’t think they’ll remove it any time soon. And I will create a backup just in case!

You can see now why I don’t make any of my other writings public on Wattpad…

[thekimspoblog]

Coronated 🐝🐝🐝👑🐝🐝🐝

TW: This is literally a pregnancy horror fanfic set in the Pluribus universe, so what do you think is in it? Sexual Violence, Domestic Abuse, Suicide, etc. This whole franchise is already canonically DDDNE. I didn't rig shit, man! I DIDN'T RIG FUCKIN' SHIT!!!

244 D 11 H 23 M 09 S

"These secret garden beams Changed my life so it seems Fall breeze blows outside, I don't break stride My thoughts are warm And they go deep inside of you"

Carol turned off the radio alarm in disgust and hid her head under the pillow. The nightmare didn't have to start yet. Not just yet.

Three minutes later, Zosia entered and sat on the bed, putting her hand on her shoulder. "Come on, sleepy head. It's important you stay on a regular sleep schedule"

Carol jerked away and glared at her.

"I see you're not in the mood to be touched" Zosia nodded with the simulacrum of compassion.

"Fuck you!" Carol spat. Zosia twitched a little but recovered.

She slid out of bed and made her way to the bathroom, trying not to steal a glance at herself in the mirror. Even when she shut the door keeping Zosia out, how much privacy did she really have? Who needed bugs when these fiends had parabolic microphones? And she tried not to imagine what they might be studying about her from the neighborhood's septic system. Still, as she sat on the toilet, the illusion of a moment alone to herself, she had to confront reality: her bare stomach was developing an undeniable curve swelling into her lap. As Carol's fingers explored the change, bitter tears erupted again, same as they had for the past few mornings. It wasn't supposed to happen this way. None of this could be real.

In the kitchen, the worker bees bustled with the precision of a 5-star restaurant preparing Carol's breakfast: avocado toast and turkey bacon with a dark chocolate and chia seed smoothie. Carol sat at the countertop and pouted at the tall brown drink. "If it's too bitter, I can make another and add more banana!" Zosia eagerly offered, "You probably need the potassium anyway"

"Do you seriously think that's why I don't trust it?" Carol replied with a deadpan expression.

Zosia sighed, "You're still angry we didn't disclose the gonadotropins we added to your food earlier. As we've explained, as soon as we formed the plan to derive pluripotent cells from your oocytes, we knew we would have to prepare your uterus-"

"You don't just play god, right?" Carol cut her off, "When a person goes through menopause, they're supposed to be out of the woods in a sense! I shouldn't have to worry 'Hmm! What if the collective whole of humanity feels like playing mad scientist and decides to use me as a guinea pig anyway?'!"

"We're sorry this pregnancy is an inconvenience, Carol. But once the embryo had been formed, it was against our nature to destroy it. And the more genetically similar a zygote is to the mother, the less likely it is to be rejected. It just... wouldn't be ethical to attempt to use me or any other woman as a surrogate when you were available"

"Right, because that makes sense" Carol sarcastically huffed. She reached for the smoothie and took a sip, eyeing Zosia like a dog with a bone. Nanobots, RNA, whatever the Others had tainted this shake with, it was surely already in her blood stream by now anyway. She had already spent her fourth month refusing any food they offered and trying to starve herself in protest, and she had lost that battle quite definitively. She couldn't let herself be seduced again, but she allowed herself to take small comfort that if she was going to be a prisoner, at least the grub was good. "The bacon is undercooked" she groused.

"It's cooked to the exact same crispiness as we always do-"

"Yeah well maybe my taste has changed and now I want it burnt black. Have you considered that what I want can change?"

Zosia put her hand over Carol's "Just three more months and your body will be yours again. In the meantime, we will do everything in our power to maximize the health, safety, and comfort of you and the baby. Would you like me to tell you statistics on how maternal mortality rates have improved since the Joining? I think you'll find them quite reassuring. Now, do you need insulin? What was your blood sugar this morning?"

"I don't know" Carol shook her head.

"Carol, gestational diabetes can be serious" Zosia chided, "We can't risk losing you again, now can we?"

Zosia held out her hand as another drone retrieved the glucose monitor from the bedroom and passed it to her. Carol begrudgingly offered her palm, ashamed of her own weakness. Oh sure, she could stick a needle in her forearm no problem when heroin was promised, but for some reason when Carol held the lance against her finger, she couldn't bring herself to press the button. One of the few things she should be able to do for herself, and she still found herself asking for their help. She turned her eyes towards the ceiling as she felt the sting of the needle and heard the device beep.

"Blood sugar is a little high, but that's to be expected after breakfast. We should still probably get you a shot just to be safe"

Carol rubbed her lefthand middle finger, now wrapped in a tissue, "You didn't ask my permission before pricking me..."

"We interpreted you sticking out your hand as giving consent" Zosia smiled.

"I thought you always had to ask before drawing blood. Has there been a time where you just went ahead with it like that before, and I just didn't notice?"

Zosia was silent.

"Didn't think so," frowned Carol, "I don't like that at all. You're not allowed to take anything out of me or put anything into me without my expressed permission. Every time. Do you understand?"

"Of course, Carol. I understand"

Another servant handed Zosia the syringe of insulin. Carol sighed and got to her feet. Zosia positioned herself behind her, and removed the needle's cap.

"On the count of three, ready?" Carol said, "3... 2... OW!"

Zosia gave her a cheeky grin. Through gritted teeth, Carol muttered "I just told you you needed my permission. No surprises!"

"And I told you I heard you" Zosia slowly, lovingly embraced her. She reached forward and brushed a strand of hair behind Carol's ear. That's when the deja vu struck her; she had been in this exact pose many times before. When Helen would hold her from behind and give her her clomiphene shots. Carol remembered saying that she wanted to abandon the IVF treatments; the drugs were making her nauseous and moody. But her wife, her manager, brushed a strand of hair behind Carol's ear and whispered sweetly about how happy they would be once the baby came. It would all be worth it. Carol just had to tough it through this part and then Helen would handle the rest; that way it could be a piece of both of them.

Carol stumbled forward hyperventilating at the epiphany. "Is that too much?" Zosia asked. "Do you feel light headed?" a proffered juice box was already in her hand.

"No. I 'm just... emotional" Carol breathed, "Excuse me for a moment; I need some air" She locked herself in her office and rolled aside the sliding grease board to stare at her concealed notes on the Others' behavior.

This is an ongoing work, but I think I'm going to publish now and just keep updating til it's ready for AO3. Anyone wants to get involved, just leave a comment or send me a DM.

[fangirlmermaid]

Listen, I know TSITP is over but is it still acceptable to post more Conrad fics?

Especially more Conrad x pregnant!reader???

[aconitum009]

Getting bored

Any asks?

Or story prompts?

[tummy-bump-king]

When I met my classmate in a UV-lit nightclub five months ago, he didn't know it was me. We had been in the same cohort, working under the same graduate advisor, for about a year at that point, so you might have expected him to notice, but it really wasn't his fault. We don't actually know each other that well and besides, I was somewhat...dressed up that evening.

He knows me as a nice but reserved guy who tries maybe a little too hard for that classic academic vibe with the sweaters and the horn-rimmed glasses. There's no reason he would associate that image with the excitable woman in the fishnets and miniskirt he'd met that night. Even if the club had been well-lit and I'd attended makeup-free, I get the feeling he'd be too busy staring at my cleavage to notice anyways. He doesn't even know I have cleavage.

Anyway. I'd seen him watching me for most of the night. When I finally approached, it took no urging to stumble back into a private room. His lips were on mine and his hands on his belt before the door even closed.

I bent down to kiss him back and guided him to the low bed, laying him down and allowing him to watch as I removed my skin tight garments. The boots, of course, stayed on.

I rode him hard as he worshiped my breasts and thighs. He came inside me and we remained locked together a while longer as I nibbled at his ear and neck, making him shiver in his post-orgasm haze. I didn't come, but it had been fun enough.

I redressed and went home to clean myself off, leaving him there.

It seemed pointless to tell him the truth. We had a perfectly fine working relationship, and I didn't want to ruin that in exchange for awkward, stilted conversation, or god forbid, transphobia, just for the sake of one half-sober encounter. He could keep his memories and I could keep mine.

I didn't realize there had been consequences of that night until almost four months later. I hadn't had my period in years since switching hormones, and I only got sick for a few days, chalking it up to something bad I ate. It was only with the aggressive cravings and sudden weight gain that I began to connect the dots and went out to buy a test.

I doubt anyone has noticed any change yet. My stomach wasn't exactly flat before, and I wear several layers daily anyways, so a few extra inches around the middle is hardly likely to draw stares.

I know about it though. So when I happen to catch sight of him in the lab or the office, or when I feel a slight ache in my chest or the growing weight of my center, I can rest my hand upon the subtle curve and know.

I can't hide it forever, of course. Not with clothes at least. Another month or two and I know the curve of my belly will begin to strain against the soft fabric of my sweaters and hang over the waistband of my pants. My breasts will swell and my ass will expand. I'll be front-heavy and take up more space than I'm accustomed to. I won't be able to sit fully against my desk or my steering wheel and my lunches will be twice as big, and my hands will rest comfortably atop the swell of my abdomen or cradle it carefully from below, and even with all of that they will not know. He will not know.

Because with the hair on my face and the timbre of my voice, who would ever suspect.

[a-soft-buff-lemon]

Between the Seasons - Chapters 5 & 6

Fresh drop ayyyy, getting very tired and cold, here's a little doodle of the silly gay idiots. Thank you guys again for checking it out, means alot and lemme know what you think!

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[sansy-fresh]

Little Stripes

just some Kedgeup hurt/comfort lol

tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Pregnancy, Talk of Pregnancy, Child Death, mentioned child death, its not depicted, but its pretty explicit, its not their child, its underfell children, because underfell is a shithole, i love writing these two, otp for sure

ao3 link

For a long, long, long time, Edge really thought he’d never get to be a mom. A big thing in his universe was to never have kids unless you could help it, or unless you were one of the last of your kind, or unless the damn king had told you to, but that in itself was rare as hell. The main rule was that kids get killed. That’s it.

Stripes meant little to hunger. Stripes meant even less to natural disasters, or sickness, or just... monsters lost to their LV.

Edge had seen many… far too many little striped sweaters laying in piles of dust for his dreams at night to be anything pleasant.

So of course, coming to the surface where children ran free and rode their bikes down the roads and played in parks with minimum adult supervision was… mind boggling. He had, at first, wanted to tell each and every one of their parents just how easily their children could be lost to them. How many parents he’d seen mourning their children because they weren’t absolutely perfect in keeping an eye on them. He wanted to scream to the world how unfair it was that his kind had suffered, that children had suffered, all while humans were so carefree in their ways.

But… after being up there a few years, after meeting Sans, falling for the comedian, and even getting married and settled down after so long… he began thinking about what it might be like to consider having a little family of their own. It began as a small thought, a wisp of an idea, before it grew into something he’d almost consider a desire.

The problem was that Sans had never shown interest in kids, other than the Ambassador. As far as Edge was aware, Sans was actually the child’s adoptive father, and every other weekend the kid came to stay the night. Edge enjoyed it when they came over, Frisk being a little bundle of joy on some occasions and a quiet, contemplative child on others. It was an enjoyable time every time, something that put Edge more and more on the side of wanting a child of his own.

It was Frisk that had Edge wondering if… if Sans had ever considered it. Having children with him, having a family, giving Frisk a little sibling, seeing as how Sans seemed to actually consider Frisk as his , if not his child then family. But Sans had never mentioned it, had never even talked about it as a passing thought, or a joke. So Edge was left unsure if Sans was truly uninterested, or perhaps had simply never given the thought its full due contemplation.

So, as Edge sat the remaining plates of food down in front of his husband, who was currently busy trying to figure out the crossword before their breakfast meal, he decided he would ask. Of course, maybe bringing up having a child when Sans had a full mouthful of eggs was perhaps not the best timing.

“I think I’d like to have a child.”

Sans choked, hands coming up to his mouth so pieces of egg didn’t go flying, his pseudo throat working hard to swallow what he’d managed to keep down before he glanced up with watery eyes, panting. “Wanna, uh, wanna run that by me again?”

Edge looked down at his plate, picking at his own eggs with his fork. “I’d like to have a child. But if you don’t want to, we don’t have to.” He’d care. It’d hurt, if Sans rejected him now, but he’d learned to live with a lot of hurt in his life, and Sans’ comfort was more important than what Edge thought he wanted.

Sans swallowed a few more times, rubbing the front of his chest as he took a sip of coffee. Then, “How long have you been thinkin’ about it?”

Scooping up a bite of sausage, Edge took a bite. “A few months.”

Sans nodded, glancing down at his own food before he laid his arms on the table. A more serious, pose, which meant Edge was either getting denied (which was okay, it was, he’d be fine with no children), or he was going to say something out of the box that would stump Edge’s neural pathways for a moment. Edge could flip a coin, it’d be about the same probability.

“Is it because you want to be a parent, or because you think I’m not happy with what we’ve got?”

Second item it was. Edge took a moment to process that, then shook his head, staring at Sans. “I know you’re happy. I’m almost positive you’re very happy, since that’s what you were shouting last night.”

Sans blushed slightly, but raised a brow. Edge huffed.

“Its because…” taking a breath, he tried to put it into words. “Children weren’t so common in my world. It wasn’t until I saw your relationship with Frisk that I understood what it was really supposed to be like. That I… thought I might want it for myself.”

Sans was still looking at him, Edge’s face warming a little. “I just… would like to try to be a mom for a little babybones. Give Frisk a sibling. Raise a family with you.” and, in a quiet voice, “That’s all.”

The sound of Sans standing from his chair startled him into looking up, but Sans was already around the table and pulling him into his arms. He melted into the contact, the lack of instant rejection a balm to his anxious soul. Not that he really expected it of his husband, but some fears had no rationality to them.

“If you wanna try for a kid, I’m down.” Sans finally said after a long pause. Edge blinked back unbidden tears, the anxiety coiled around his soul finally letting loose. He took a deep breath, letting it out in a wet puff of air. The short arms around him tightened, Edge relaxing into them with a small grin.

“I’d like that.”