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#postpartum bodies are beautiful
pursuitseternal · 17 days
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“Take My Milk for Gall:” an upcoming WIP from PursuitsEternal 🔥 UA Astarion x Fem!OC
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UA Spawn Astarion x Delilah | Explicit | TBD
Summary: “I’ve taken a turn as a hero and adventurer” Astarion may not have found the slavers he’s contracted to hunt this time, but he has found one fiercely determined and mysterious female. Her tenacity is only outmatched by her secrets. But she might be just what he needs, for this quest and for more reasons than that alone.
CW: Tired, jaded hero Spawn, no Tav assumed, fem!OC is new mother, stretch marks, blood, and breast milk included, tragic past hopeful future, found family, future adoptive Dadstarion…
Tease below the cut…
Against her obviously better judgment, she tried to strike up a conversation a few times, but a terse response and a glare was enough to quiet her meager attempts. Perhaps it was the reflection of his own past, his own scars and abuse and self-loathing that made him avoid looking at her much. It wasn’t until he could hear actual tears in her voice that he stopped to listen to her pleas.
“I hear water ahead, a river. Once it’s dawn, could we stop please, I need to bathe and rest…” She looked exhausted, tired, and now pathetic.
But it did pique his conscience enough to reply. “We do need to make camp before sunrise, same as our quarry, and I do think we’ve gained on them.” He nodded to an outcrop of rocks in the hills, “I’ll make camp in this cover. Head east. The river isn’t far.” He could almost feel her relief in her bones as he directed her to find the rest she had been whining for.
Decades of repetition, some with companions, some all alone, his body made camp without a single thought about it: fire made, bedroll laid out, weapons cleaned and sharpened, tent pitched in the darkest parts of the rocky crag to keep the sun off his flesh. Supper would be dry fare for her, just some things he had scrounged from the village stores that weren’t tainted with soot. As for him, he sniffed the air looking for something warm and soon-to-be-prey, when another scent caught his nose.
Fresh blood. Female blood. The kind that came monthly, the kind he hadn’t been so exposed to since his days on the road to fight the Absolute. Yet, there was something off. “Delilah?” he called, heading towards the riverbank. He pushed through massive ferns, that scent growing stronger, now edged with something sweeter, something he had never scented before. Hurrying, his arms brushed back the thick leaves, calling her name one more time.
Her body stood in the waters, the tops of her thighs still above the surface. Dark brown and red stains covered the insides of her legs, a sight he knew. Old blood and fresh dripped down. The curves of her hips, the crest of her belly was covered in stretch lines, her skin slightly loose but no less supple. Voluptuous even. Slowly she rounded to face him, her figure in the moonlight bright against the rippling water. Her breasts, two full mounds glistening with droplets of water, achingly full, nipples hard and ripened pink. It made his mouth water against his better judgment. Her hands worked at her breast, and there was that other sweeter, strange scent.
A cup in one fist, thick streams of milk spurted into it. His eyes went wide, the shock of seeing something foreign, intimate, and… confusing. Her dark eyes sparked, almost like two nebulous voids as she locked into his gaze, but even that mysterious darkness couldn’t mask her determination.
It was a clear picture, a young mother, recent from labour and absent a babe. A long inhale is what he took as he drew towards the river’s edge. “Where’s your child?” he asked, bile and gall rising in his throat to think of the possibilities.
“She’s safe with a friend, another whore who got too ripe for business,” came the casual reply, her hand tossed the full cup of milk into the water around her naked body. Then her hands began to work the other breast. The sound of expressing milk rang against the side of the little metal cup. “I know my lass is fed and safe, but little good it does me on the road. Gotta keep myself relieved or I fear I’ll burst,” she smiled, but grin and laugh both rippled with the dark reality of their circumstances.
Astarion turned his back, apologizing. “I’m sorry… I…”
“Well, now, my hero knows why I am so desperate for my brother, and why I despair so at my… misfortune. I was to bring my babe once I had settled a bit with my brother. But with Cainan enslaved, I have no one. I have nothing.” She tossed the cup of milk into the running water again. “I don’t even have a babe to give this milk to feed,” she couldn’t hide the sigh in her throat. “What a waste.”
That tone, that despite and spite… It was too familiar, too haunting. “We won’t let it be a waste. We won’t let those slavers win,” his voice growled, an edge of ice that hadn’t lined it since Cazador’s death by his hand. “You’ll get your freedom for you and your child,” he added. And whether or not he meant it to be a vow, something settled with determination in his heart.
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cocteaucherry · 3 months
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nanami x f!reader
(little thing I wrote about Nanami’s wife being insecure after the birth of their daughter)
cws- f!reader, self doubt, body insecurity, bodily fluids, p in v (unprotected), oral f!receiving, lacatation kink, nipple play, 18+, light postpartum depression, body worship, creampie
You hated the way you looked.
You stared in the mirror analyzing and observing your post birth body, the way your stomach pudge began to droop, the abundance of stretch marks coating your sides, your breasts full and aching adding to your sheer discomfort.
You adored your daughter, loved her with every fiber of your being but when the lights turned off you were left alone with your thoughts and the body you were convinced was destroyed.
This didn’t go unnoticed by your darling husband of course, he’d watch you heavily over analyze yourself as you pulled on your pajamas for the night. The way you’d wince when your rough feeling shirt clipped the underside of your sensitive breasts.
Nanami wasn't dumb, the way your face filled with worry when he proposed you have a date night just the two of you but quickly made the excuse of not going through the trouble.
“Hey sweetheart, just put her down for the night.. well for a few hours.” He smirked, rubbing his tired eyes.
You were laid on the bed in an oversized purple nightgown, you could wear a trash bag and he’d still find you to be the most ravishing woman he’s ever seen.
“That’s great, let’s get some sleep while we still can.” You said with a small yawn as Nanami crawled on the bed next to you, his strong arms wrapped around your waist causing you to wince quietly.
“Did I do something?” Nanami asked gazing up at you through his eyelashes as he took your hand in his.
“Do..” you sighed, beginning to feel the onslaught of tears form, “D-Do you still find me attractive..?” The words came out as more of a quiet plea than a question.
Nanami stared at you with an astonished look, eyes blown wide as he gripped your hand a little tighter, “Sweetheart..”
Hearing him say your name softly made you begin to sob, “Y/N, why do you not know how beautiful you are?” He pressed kisses to your knuckles keeping eye contact with you.
“I-I don’t feel it anymore..” sniffles came from you as you tried to wipe your tears, “I’m bigger now.. I have more stretch marks, I feel and look tired all the time.. and my stupid boobs hurt,” a hurt chuckle came from you as you tilted your head back.
“Sweetie.. are you aware you just birthed our beautiful daughter a month ago?” Nanami smiled softly, sitting up to caress the side of your face, “Your body is still as beautiful and amazing as it was before.” His calloused thumb wiping the stray tears away.
“K-Kento-“
He shushed you quickly before placing a soft kiss on your chapped lips, “Let me show you how beautiful you are..”
All of a sudden Nanami’s hands lifted your soft nightgown above your aching tits, his mouth then began to leave messy wet kisses on your neck.
You let out soft mewls as his rough hands palmed and squeezed at your tender breasts, beads of soft white milk dribbling out.
Nanami smirked against your neck as he dragged his lips to your cleavage, “I never want you to forget why I fell in love with you,” he hummed wrapping his lips around one of the hardened buds, his tongue graced over the bud as the smooth milk dribbled out.
“K-Ken, fuckkk,” you moaned as your hands found home in his blonde hair, gripping at the roots. His hands worked at your breasts as his lips moved on to the other bud.
He pulled off your breasts with an audible pop! As his head moved to your inner thighs, “I’ll never stop loving you, and if I do shoot me dead angel.” Nanami grinned as he saw you smile lightly, he nipped at the inner corners of your thighs slowly moving towards your panty clad cunt.
Soft kisses were placed where your clit was covered, “Think I can make you squirt through your panties?” Nanami groaned as he inhaled your scent leaving kitten licks on the damp fabric.
“Ken, please don’t tease!” You squeaked as his fingers worked on your clothed clit, Nanami’s teeth nipped at your thighs as his hips grinded into the mattress below.
“Wan’ kiss you to know kiss how beautiful kiss you are,” Nanami looked gorgeous between your legs, hair tousled, pupils blown as his fingers worked delicately.
Your back arched as you felt his tongue ghost over your clit, a whine fell from your lips as Nanami wrapped his lips over your clit. “Let go for me angel..” he hummed as the coil snapped in your belly and your panties soaked. “Fuckk, such a good girl f’ me.”
He placed one last kiss on your thigh before he sat up and began to gently palm himself through his boxers, the whole image was erotic as precum stained his boxers.
“See what you do to me angel?” He gripped his hardened cock through the fabric, “Please give me me a chance to fuck you dumb tonight.”
“K-Ken fuck!” Moans fell from your mouth as your husband continued to pound into your weeping pussy,
“Sucking me in so good, shit,” Nanami grunted out as he lifted your leg onto his shoulder planting a small kiss on your ankle, “Never thrust forget how fucking beautiful thrust you are.” He groaned out feeling your gummy walls begin to contract around him.
“‘M gonna cum Ken!” Your toes curled as you felt him speed up his thrusts, “D-do it you got it baby,” his hand came to rub quick tight circles on your clit as your walls clamped around his cock causing him to still.
“Ohhh fuck! That’s my good girl,” his voice sounded raspy as he buried himself deeper into you spilling his seed.
Pants came from both of you as he leaned over to place multiple kisses on your forehead, there was a calm silence that followed after before it was broken by Nanami.
“I never want you to forget how much of a goddamn goddess you are,”
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kurogxrix · 11 months
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Look Don’t Touch
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Dad!Mob!Bucky Barnes x Mom!reader
IN WHICH you accidentally walk onto your husband and his men during a meeting, clad in nothing else but a tight fitting top and a baby in your arms. The sight is enough to send the many men drooling, but Bucky reminds them that you’re only his to look at, and will always be.
WC: 2.1k
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You wished you could have turned back to the few seconds you’d lived through before stumbling into your Husband’s office door. The silence in the room was deafening, at least for you it was. Alpine was all the least bothered, the white cat jumping across furniture to furniture without disturbing the decorations within. Your footsteps faltered quickly, suddenly stuck in your spot as you fell under the eyes of the familiar people that sat around the long meeting table. Men to be exact, the same exact group of men that had always been there to accidentally witness too far into yours and Bucky’s marriage.
Over the course of your relationship with Bucky, there had been one too many times where your husband’s men had caught you in compromising positions. Given that you were posed in such, you were always clad in near to nothing. The most you’d get to cover yourself with during  those unfortunate times that you’ve gotten caught was either the thin material of yours and Bucky’s bed sheet, or his discarded suit jacket as he pounded you from behind on his work desk. One too many times of embarrassment and humiliation on your side.
You were sort of sure that Bucky’s eyes were literally shining at the mere sight of you. Although he wasn’t the only one that was caught in a trance after your sudden appearance. The sight of you clad in nothing else but that fitting tank top that you'd wear to sleep was enough to make a grown man shiver. 
The stretchy fabric pressed around all the right areas, and the extras clung around your protruding belly. God and how much you hated that, your postpartum body that you’d glare at in the midst of the night while your baby laid sleeping. How It would take so much time for it to go, and how much you’d wish to have your old body back. Though Bucky loved it, he’d never fail to remind you of how beautiful you were, of how normal this all was because you had literally been carrying a whole baby inside of there. 
You knew how much your husband loved the sight of that little belly of yours, but you’d never be able to tell how much it aroused the others as well. All of the eyes were on you, especially on how your breast threatened to spill out of the U-cut top that you wore. You were very well aware of the change, and how could you not? No matter the size that your breasts had been before, that had now tripled, if not quadrupled during pregnancy. They were so sore and heavy from carrying so much milk, and you cursed your husband for giving you a baby that required so much milk. 
Not that you were genuinely complaining though, you loved your son more than yourself, and it didn’t matter if you had to suffer for him. You would and you were. 
Nevertheless, you staggered for a second as you closed the door, suddenly very aware of the group of men that watched you and your baby gurgling across your chest. You adjusted your hand to pat along your baby’s back, standing up straighter as you shivered under all the eyes. No, you weren’t embarrassed because of your attire. In fact you couldn’t care less about that, you showing skin had never been a sore spot in yours and Bucky’s relationship, he had no concerns with you wearing revealing clothes.
In fact he loved that you loved your body enough to do so. At the start of your relationship it was hard for you to even open up to him about your naked skin, after being put down by the other men that were now an awful part of your past. He was by no means an insecure man, and you were by no means an unfaithful woman, so everything worked out as it should. 
Furthermore, Bucky loved the sight of those snobby men checking you out at every given moment that he’d be far from your reach. He loved the sight of seeing those desperate men tracing your form as though to map it in their minds, a memory that they’d keep until they’d finally arrive home late at night, hands sinfully low in the shower as cold ran down their backs. 
Bucky loved watching those scums approach you as though they had a chance, before seeing you mouth what you’d always say. “Not interested, I'm married.”  before shoving your ringed finger in their face, a wicked grin plastered on your face before turning around to look for your loving husband. It was funny to him, watching their downturned expressions and you’d stare at your ring with such admiration, so much love that you held for him and him only. 
Though on the few unfortunate nights where those ratty men just refused to understand, he’d make sure to make his way to you. Towering over the men no matter their height, an intimidating look crowding his face as he keeps his arms around your form. He made sure to send one of his men after the cowering scum at the end of the night, and much to your confusion, you’d somewhat never seen them again after that.  
It was a funny sight at first, seeing your 6 foot tall, tatted mafia boyfriend getting all giddy because you’d confessed that you were finally confident enough in your skin to start wearing more open clothes. You were wearing those clothes by your own want and will, because of your newfound confidence and self love that you developed because of him. Your loving, mafia boyfriend that was now your husband, and inevitably the father of your child.
Now as you stood in Bucky’s office, you were simply embarrassed because you’d accidently interrupted your husband’s meeting, the defect of your motherly brain, you’d forgotten to knock before entering. Now everyone stared at you like a deer in headlights, you couldn’t help the heat that crept up your neck. 
“Detka, is there anything that you’re looking for? Anything you need?” you watched as Bucky stood up from his chair at the head of the table, making his way towards you as the heels of his expensive Italian dress shoes clicked against the marble floor. You wanted nothing more but to melt onto a puddle at the sound of his gentle tone, and your fatigue did nothing to help ease that thought. 
“A-actually I was going to ask you if you were hungry but now I see that you’re busy so, I’ll just ask again later,” you stuttered, rambling your thoughts as you urged to leave the room. If not careful, you could’ve slipped alongside your innocent baby as you left the room, but Bucky couldn’t just let you go like that. Sure he wanted to ask you what was wrong, stop you and demand why you’d rush out of the room. Not out of preeminence, but out of worry. 
Though it was obvious by your nervously racking eyes and straight posture that you wanted nothing else than to leave the room, he followed you instead. Carefully clicking the door shut behind him, he left his men inside of the room to wonder by themselves. Bucky considered them family, like brothers, so they’d understand. He was sure of it. 
Bucky turned around after closing the door, catching you bouncing your son back to sleep after you’d heard his weak grumbling. Your husband watched with heart eyes as the little Lev raises his even tinier fists to your chest, throwing an unreasoned angry fit against his poor momma. A raspy chuckle escapes Bucky’s throat as your son’s fists come crashing down against your collarbone rather robotically, and it’s not strong enough to even hurt you, but odd enough to startle you for a second. 
Finally deciding to snap out of his awfully lovestruck trance, he sauntered towards you. The palm of his hand was warm against your arm, and it somewhat comforted you as you relished in his touch. “What’s wrong malyshka? Everything’s alright? Hope little Lev isn’t causing you too much trouble, god knows how loud he’s already been since this morning.” your husband joked, but you shuddered at the memory of getting begrudgingly out of bed at 4 in the morning because of your yelling baby.
Your heart picked up the pace at the sound of the nickname he’d reserved for you, and you felt yourself going shy before the very own man that’d seen every part of you, beyond and inside. Everything. 
“I was making lunch and I was going to bring it to you, but I forgot to knock and look at where that brought me.” you laughed off the memory now that it was over, there was no need to drown in remorse over such a silly thing. Bucky’s eyes flashed towards the side table that laid against the wall near the huge doors of his meeting room, and apparently you had no free hands either because there laid a plate of his abandoned lunch upon the smooth wooden surface of the table. 
It was his favourite dish, and Bucky unconsciously smiled at the thought of you being so keen to bring it to him because of that. Your husband’s baby blue eyes racked your body once more, taking notice of the pair of oversized sweatpants that you were wearing, those that were so obviously his. The sweats were so big on you that the strings upon your waist were painfully tightened, but no matter how many pairs of your own that your husband would buy you, no matter the price or top notch quality, you’d always find more comfort in his old, worn out ones that he’d beg you to throw away. 
“You’re so beautiful, Malyshka. Thank you for the food, I'll have it as soon as I'm done with my meeting.” his warm, large palm cupped your cheek. You couldn’t help but lean into his touch, relishing in his love before he leaves to tend to his work once more. Sure, you’d see him in a couple of minutes, and his free time would last until tomorrow morning, but you wanted to be with him 24/7. 
Bucky’s eyes then trailed down towards Lev, who was peacefully drooling away with his head squished against your chest. With his thumb still rubbing soothingly at your cheek, Bucky signalled you to go relax with Lev until he orders his men out, then motioned to one of the nearby maids to take his plate back to the kitchen until he was done, just so you didn’t have to move your pinky more than you needed to. 
With you back in the comfort of your plush king sized bed alongside your son, and Bucky’s consciousness now at peace, he made his way back towards the heavy doors of his meeting room. The look on his face changed as soon as the doors clicked shut once more, and this time, the softened look completely left his features. There were no more signs of tenderness upon Bucky’s face. 
The change was intimidatingly scary, his face now completely still and the menacing glow in his eyes did nothing to soothe them. For, it wasn’t like Bucky’s team believed that they were innocent. You didn't need to be hawk-eyed to see that they were obviously ogling you, their boss's wife, and the mother of his child at that. 
Rolling up the sleeves of his suit jacket, the exposed sight of his fully tattooed arm made the grown men shiver. Forlorn excuses of men lowered their heads as Bucky walked past them, a sign of respect as though they hadn’t just snubbed him by looking a little too hard at what was his. 
Yes, Bucky would call these people his brothers, and yes he did appreciate them when times came.
He often took the role of the eldest in the family. He was highly respected upon the mob, and he cared for them as they did for him. Yet living under his roof required to obey the rules that he had set up, and the most important one was; look, don't touch. 
Though they’d manage to abide by that rule for as long as they’d set foot inside his home, they were truly starting to test their luck. Tonight, Bucky would make sure that none of them returned to their rooms without being taught a new additional rule. Perhaps this one would take the top place above  the previous one, and this time, there’d be no more looking allowed. 
-
i profoundly apologize to y’all bcuz this is my first Bucky ff and idk wtf this is
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andy-15-07 · 3 months
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Are your requests open??
I would love to see you where the reader/OFC is a concubine of Paul Atreides. She doesn’t get much attention from him but when she goes in to labor there is a complication and she becomes scared. Paul as the Emperor shows up to help her through the labor and starts developing a positive relationship with her and his child postpartum.
Thank you!! Please keep writing things you have passion for!! ❤️
Bonds Beyond Blood
masterlist ! pairing: Paul Atreides x reader
Dune Masterlist
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Y/n lay on the ornate bed, her hand clutching the bedsheets tightly as pain wracked through her body. Sweat beaded on her forehead, her breathing shallow and labored. The midwives moved around her with practiced efficiency, but their words seemed distant, muffled by the intensity of her fear.
Paul Atreides, the Emperor, stood by the doorway, his expression a mask of concern. He had never been one to show much interest in Y/n, his concubine, beyond the duties of his station. But now, as he watched her struggle, something stirred within him.
"Is she going to be alright?" Paul asked the head midwife, his voice betraying a hint of anxiety.
The midwife glanced at him briefly before returning her attention to Y/n. "We are doing everything we can, Your Majesty. But there are complications. The baby's position is not ideal, and Y/n is exhausted."
Paul nodded, his jaw clenched. He couldn't shake the feeling of helplessness that washed over him. This was one situation he couldn't control with his political power or military might.
Y/n's cries filled the room, echoing off the walls of the chamber. Paul felt a pang of guilt deep within him. He had neglected her, taken her presence for granted. But now, seeing her in such agony, he couldn't ignore the bond they shared, however distant it had been.
Without a word, Paul crossed the room and took Y/n's hand in his own. She looked up at him, her eyes wide with fear and pain.
"Paul..." she gasped, her voice barely a whisper.
"I'm here, Y/n," Paul said softly, his tone soothing. "I won't leave your side."
Y/n squeezed his hand tightly, drawing strength from his presence. Despite their past indifference, she found solace in his touch, in the warmth of his hand against hers.
Minutes stretched into hours as Y/n endured the agonizing pain of labor. Paul remained by her side, offering words of encouragement and support. With each contraction, he whispered words of reassurance, his voice a steady anchor in the storm of her fear.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the sound of a baby's cry filled the room. Tears of relief streamed down Y/n's cheeks as she held her newborn child in her arms.
Paul watched, his heart swelling with emotion, as Y/n cradled their child against her chest. In that moment, he felt a connection unlike any he had ever known before. It wasn't just the bond of blood that tied him to this child, but something deeper, something more profound.
"I never knew..." Paul began, his voice faltering as he struggled to find the right words.
Y/n looked up at him, her eyes shining with tears. "Neither did I," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the soft cries of their child.
In the days that followed, Paul remained by Y/n's side, helping her adjust to motherhood and caring for their newborn child. With each passing day, their bond grew stronger, forged in the fires of adversity and nurtured by the love they shared for their child.
As they sat together in the quiet moments of the night, watching over their sleeping infant, Paul found himself opening up to Y/n in a way he never thought possible. He shared his fears, his hopes, his dreams for the future, laying bare his soul before her.
And in turn, Y/n shared her own hopes and dreams, her fears and insecurities, trusting Paul with her most intimate thoughts and feelings.
In the weeks and months that followed, Paul and Y/n's relationship blossomed into something beautiful and profound. They may have started as mere strangers, bound together by duty and circumstance, but now they were so much more than that.
They were partners, allies, confidants. And as they watched their child grow and thrive, they knew that no matter what the future held, they would face it together, united in love and devotion.
For in the end, it wasn't power or prestige that defined them, but the simple yet profound bond of family. And in that bond, they found the true meaning of happiness and fulfillment.
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miley1442111 · 2 months
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motherly instincts- a.hotchner
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a/n: i imagined a fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)
summary: aaron's mother can only be helpful to you postpartum, right?
pairing: husband! aaron hotchner x wife! reader
warnings: fluff, body shaming, feeling of discomfort, postpartum, reader is postpartum and aaron's wife.
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You were pregnant. It wasn’t exactly planned, but Aaron and you were ecstatic all the same. Jack was excited to have a new sibling and he was totally ok with it. At your wedding, you had adopted Jack, meaning you were already one of his legal guardians. The only problem was telling everyone. The team were ecstatic for you, Jj giving you tips, Spencer sending various articles on pregnancy and childbirth, Derek promising his babysitting service, Emily promising to come and help out in anyway, and Penelope sending you cute baby clothes ideas (and buying them for you).
But telling Aaron’s mother. 
That was a shit show. 
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
“You’re pregnant?” she repeated. The lack of emotion in her face and voice made you feel practically sick. “Why?”
“Mother-” 
“Is Jack not enough for her?” She asked like you weren't even there.
 You took a deep breath. “I adore Jack, you know I do. We weren’t exactly planning this-” Wrong thing to say.
“So you don't want the child?” 
Aaron rolled his eyes, taking your hand in his. 
“Of course we want our child!” You exclaimed and she looked taken aback. 
“Aaron, she’s shouting at me!”
“I will be too if you don’t stop this mother.” 
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
She had since reached out and apologised, so you felt that it was ok to let her come and stay for the week, they were her grandchildren too.
You had given birth to twins, two girls. You named them Elizabeth (Beth for short) and Natalie (Nat for short). You both loved both of them so much. They had taken Aaron’s dark hair, and your eyes. They were beautiful. You adored them. Aaron adored them. Jack adored them. 
Aaron’s mother… not so much.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Day 1
She had already bulldozed through your regular routine. You were exhausted from literally growing two children and then pushing them out and into the world. Aaron understood that. Jack understood that. Aaron’s mother did not. She expected you to just be fine. She expected you to do all the cooking and cleaning while she took care of your newborn babies. Aaron basically had to put her in a time out and lock the door to the nursery to let you just be with your children for more than a few minutes. Jack loved coming in to see his sisters whenever he could, which meant Ms. Hotchner also had to be allowed in. So, you were basically banished unless you wanted to argue, and trust me, you didn’t want to argue with that woman. 
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Aaron?” You mumbled as you climbed into bed beside him, both the twins and Jack down for the night. 
“Yes honey?” he whispered, wrapping you in his arms. 
“Do you think you could talk to your mother? Just about letting me have some down time with the twins?”
“Of course darling, I didn’t realise it was that bad,” he looked down at you. Even through the darkness of the room, you could see the guilt on his face. 
“It’s not!” You lied. “Just… I don’t know,” You sighed. “It doesn't matter, sorry for worrying you. You shouldn’t say anything.”
“Are you sure?” He asked, scepticism clear in his voice. “I’m happy to talk to her. She’s only supposed to be here if she’s helping. If she’s not helping we can ask her to go home.”
“Aaron, it’s alright, I promise.” 
“Well, tell me if it gets bad, alright?  I know she can be overbearing sometimes,” The amount of care and love present in his voice and words almost brought you to tears, so you just nodded and pressed your head into his chest. You felt him chuckle. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too.”
After a few minutes of his comforting voice and soft hands lulling you into drowsiness, you were asleep. 
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
When the baby monitor went off and you slept through the cries of your children, Aaron smiled. He was happy you were getting sleep. Insomnia had been the prevailing issue of your pregnancy, and it drove you crazy. He got up, swaddled and fed his babies, checked in on Jack and got himself a glass of water. He lay down beside you again and cupped your cheek. You were sound-asleep as he looked at you with all the love in the world. 
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Day 2
“Did you sleep?” You asked your husband. “I’m so sorry I slept through it, I just… next time you should wake me up, ok? I’m so sorry-”
He cut you off with a kiss. “I was fine, don’t worry. I’m glad you’re finally getting some sleep,” he smiled playfully at your glare. 
“I can take Jack to school if you want to lounge around for a bit?” You offered, hopeful that he would let you. He shook his head and dipped down, kissing you again. 
“I’m fine. I’ll walk him there, then go for a run.” 
“That’s a brilliant idea!” Hotch’s mother exclaimed. “She’ll go for a run and drop Jack off. She needs to start getting rid of the baby fat.”
Your jaw genuinely dropped. There was no way anyone would have the nerve to say that to you. Not when you were literal weeks postpartum. You knew you didn’t look the same as before, you hadn’t expected to. But to be confronted with it so blatantly was a stab into your confidence. 
Aaron’s face hardened and solidified into one of irritation and annoyance. “What did you just say to my wife?” 
“Aaron. We can’t lie to her! It would just be a disservice,” your mother-in-law said as she stood by the coffee machine, a frown on her lips. “It’s only a few miles-”
“If you ever think about talking about my wife in that way I will not hesitate to block your number. You can pack your bags Mother. I’ll call you a taxi,” Aaron got his phone out, a comforting hand on your waist. 
“Aaron, that’s a bit drastic-” You tried but his voice cut yours off, ordering a taxi to your house. He thanked the person on the line and smiled at you as he hung up, his mother’s temper tantrum beginning. 
“She doesn’t get to talk to you like that. No one does.” 
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
There was no day 3. She left your house, essentially cursing you, but you didn’t care. It was finally the way it was meant to be. Just Aaron, Jack, the girls, and you. 
Your perfect family. 
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
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rainylana · 1 month
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“I don’t like the way I look.”
Eddie Munson x female reader
requested by anonymous
summary: your insecurities of your postpartum body finally come out.
warnings: postpartum, insecurities about the readers body, lots of tears, language, angst, eddie cries. i’m not a mother nor have i ever been pregnant, so i hope i did this justice.
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You were one of those people who were extremely confident in their looks. You knew you were hot. You had hair girls were jealous of, and a figure, too. You had beautiful green eyes that looked gold in the sun. Pale skin that made your jaw line sharp and features prominent.
Eddie liked having you that way. He loved your confidence and everything about you. However the day you had your baby, it all changed. The nine months of pregnancy went by smoothly. You’d obviously put on an enormous amount of baby weight, but you had assumed you’d drop it once the baby was born. You weren’t, and no matter how little food you ate or how much exercise you did, you couldn’t get it off. Besides, you didn’t have time to really put in the work for dieting, not healthily, anyways. Not with a baby.
You loved your daughter. There was no question in that, but you couldn’t admit it to yourself, or anyone, that you now hated how you looked. You had a pouch in your belly that you’d never had before, the skin on your sides had turned to love handles, your legs still stolen. You cried yourself to sleep so many times during the night, watching your daughter sleep. Little Patricia Munson. Patty.
You were good at hiding it. Eddie had no suspicion of your struggles. Nobody did. Only you and the mirror.
Motherhood suited you. To Eddie and your friends, you were glowing. You were so good with your baby. You knew how to get her to calm down, to sleep peacefully through the night. Having a child was a new kind of love you never thought one person was capable of feeling. Eddie loved watching you with her, the way you held her and sang to her. He was absolutely mesmerized when you breastfed her.
You looked like you could do it all with a crown on top of your head, and nobody knew just how badly you were feeling.
Tonight was a particularly bad night and you had no idea why. You were sat in the rocking chair of Patty’s nursery, holding her in your arms and softly patting her. She’d been asleep for quiet some time, but you weren’t ready to put her down. It was almost one in the morning, and you knew Eddie would wake up soon and wonder where you were.
The room was dark, besides the Winnie the Pooh nightlight that illuminated an orange glow around the room, plastic stars stuck up on the ceiling for extra light.
You were humming lightly, your finger sweeping over her swirl of dark hair. She was only seven weeks old, and every day she looked more and more like Eddie. You didn’t think it was exactly fair, considering you were the one who carried her for nine months, but you couldn’t deny how cute it was having a mini Eddie in your arms.
You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, your voice breaking mid hum at the disapproving picture you received. Your face used to be so slim. And though it hadn’t changed dramatically as the rest of your body, you missed it what everything used to look like. You knew you should love your body, considering what it did to make little Patty, but you feared what Eddie thought of you now.
Sex with him hadn’t faltered or was forgotten. On the contrary. It had done nothing but flourish since you had your baby, but have the time you had to force yourself to cum, thinking nothing about the pleasure and only if he was judging you the way you judged yourself.
Soon enough, you heard the bed squeak in the other room and his feet hit the floor. You sniffled, wiping your stray tear quickly before he could find you.
His head of dark curls, white shirt and boxers decorating his body came wondering in the room, smiling sleepily when he quietly came over to you. You smiled up at him, puckering your lips for a kiss. He kissed you, then bent down to give his baby girl a soft kiss on the forehead. He tapped her little nose and grinned, chuckling softly.
You knew what he was thinking. I can’t believe she’s mine. You smiled, too.
He stifled a yawn and brought over the other rocking chair and sat in front of you, leaning back so he could get comfortable. “I’ll sit with her for awhile, darlin’. Why don’t you go to bed?”
“No.” You shook your head, smiling at him briefly. “I can’t sleep, anyways.”
Eddie thought this was when you were the most beautiful, holding his baby. You were both his babies. “I can’t believe she’s ours sometimes.” He admitted tiredly, trying to wake himself up. “I never thought I could love someone so small so much.”
“I know.” You nodded. “It’s scary sometimes.”
It was. Loving someone so much. You knew your life would be over if anything were to ever happen to her.
“I’d do anything for her.” Eddie said, his curls a pillow between his head and the wood of the rocking chair as he lay back comfortably watching the two of you.
“I know.” You said once again, full of emotion. You didn’t want to cry, but hearing Eddie talk about how much he loved her got you emotional, especially because you wondered if he loved you as much as he used to. “Me too.” A lone tear escaped your eye, rolling down your cheek and dropping onto your bare knee. It was so quick you hoped he hadn’t noticed it. You were wrong.
“Hey,” Eddie perked up. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing.” You sighed heavily. “I’m alright.”
“But you’re cryin’, angel.” He frowned, sitting up in his seat to lean over closer. “Are you alright?”
“Yes.” You gave a firm nod, but your voice broke, betraying what you had just said.
He gave you a look before glancing down at your daughter. “I think you’re tired, honey. Why don’t you-”
“I’m not tired.” You said firmly, looking up to him with glassy eyes. “I just want to be alone.”
He chalked it up to your hormones being out of control and nodded, offering a quiet ‘alright’ as he shut the nursery door behind him. You squeezed your eyes shut and let out a hushed sob, bringing Patty closer to your chest. You laid your head against her’s, giving her a crying kiss. She barely even stirred.
You weren’t as quiet as you thought you were, because Eddie was back within seconds, coming to squat down beside you and gently take the baby from your arms. He shushed her softly and placed her down in her crib before turning back to find you missing.
He found you outside on the porch, sobbing like you had a broken heart, arms crossed and holding your body like you’d break at any second. It was starting to sprinkle, but you didn’t care. You knew if you woke up Patty this late it would take you forever to get her back to sleep.
“Baby,” Eddie said sadly, coming up behind you. “What’s got you so upset?” He didn’t touch you, a hand only ghosting the fabric that covered your back.
“I’m fine.” You said through sobs, the air cold and bitter against your skin. You only had on a long t-shirt, but the trailer court had all turned in for the night. “Go back to bed.”
“No.” He shook his head. “Not without you.”
You huffed and rolled your eyes, wishing he could leave your pity party for you and you only. He wouldn’t understand how you were feeling, and worst off, maybe your fears were true. You didn’t want to know the truth. Did he still find you attractive? Did he still enjoy sex? Did he still love you as much even though you weren’t skinny?
“Eddie, please,” You turned around, tears running down your face, red and blotchy. “Go back to bed.”
He stared at you, frowning and brows knitted in concern. “You know I can’t do that. We made a promise, remember?”
Damn it. He always threw down that card.
After vecna, you both were broken shells of what you once used to be. Everyone was. You made him promise you he wouldn’t shut down. He had to talk when his heart was aching, and in return, you promised the same. You promised to talk when your heart ached, and right now, it was.
You sighed, nodding softly. You did remember, but that didn’t make it any easier to talk about. You quickly turned around to hide your fresh set of tears, biting your tongue. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“It might make you feel better.” He moved to stand directly beside you, leaning against the wood railing that was growing damp from the light rain. “Please, honey. Talk to me.”
You sniffled and looked away from his stare. “I’m scared of what you’ll say. I don’t know if I want the answer.”
“Answer to what?” He said confused. “Baby- just tell me, okay? I promise whatever it is, it’ll work itself out.”
But would it? Would you ever be as beautiful as you used to be? Would you ever be skinny, never have to worry about what you ate? That’s all you thought of now, worrying about what you put in your mouth. You were petrified of gaining more weight.
“I don’t like the way I look.” You finally said crying, looking over at him. “There, okay? I don’t like the way I look. I look in the mirror and I’m just disgusted with what I see.”
His eyes were wide. You had shocked him. His brows were creased and he opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out.
“I love Patty.” You sobbed. “But I hate what being pregnant did to me and I feel so guilty for feeling that way. I’m not beautiful anymore and I miss it.” Your voice broke deeply, crackling like tv static that couldn’t get a proper signal. “I don’t feel pretty for you and I’m scared that you think it too.”
“Okay, wait,” He’d heard enough, speaking quickly as he straightened himself taller. “I don’t- y/n, you’re talkin’ crazy.”
“Am I?” You retorted. “Because the mirror doesn’t lie, Eddie.” You stood your ground. You were right and Eddie wasn’t going to sweet talk you out of the truth. Facts were facts. “I’m not beautiful anymore and you know it. Stop lying to me!”
“Y/n, what the hell-” He backed away. “You’re putting words in my mouth. I’ve never said anything like that to you ever. Where is all of this coming from?” He shook his head in absolute disbelief, trying to be calm and rational to understand where you were coming from. A part of him wondered if it was just a hormonal, postpartum outburst, but your tears and attitude told him otherwise.
“You didn’t!” You snapped. “But you don’t have to. I know. I look at myself in the mirror every day and wonder if you’re attracted to me anymore. I don’t look like how I used to.” You were bawling, snot leaking from your nose and eyes bloodshot red. Your hair was starting to get wet from the rain.
“Why the fuck does that matter?” Eddie argued back, his sense of cool becoming too hard to handle. He couldn’t stand to hear you talk so negatively about yourself. “You are you and it doesn’t matter what you look like. You just had a baby, sweetheart. You’re obviously not going to loose all the weight overnight. You’re being too hard on yourself.” He tried to speak soothingly to calm your cries, his hands holding your elbows, head dipping down like he was speaking to a child.
“And even if you don’t,” He continued. “I’m going to love you just the way you are because you’re the mother of my child.” His hands went up to your shoulders. “You gave me the greatest gift of my life, darlin’,” To your surprise, his eyes teared up.
“Please,” He pulled you in to hold you. “Don’t think like that, baby, please. I can’t bear to hear you talk like that.” His voice broke, a guilt sinking into your heart that made you feel foolish.
“I’m sorry.” You rushed, wrapping your hands around his back. “I’m sorry.” You found yourself saying, desperate to keep him from crying.
You realized then, how wrong you were. Because if he thought the things you thought of yourself, he wouldn’t be out here in the rain with you, holding you close, crying, over what you had said. You realized then, just how much he loved you.
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russellsppttemplates · 2 months
Note
Reader being self conscious with her body after having her and Charles last baby (i forgot his name im so so so sorry!) and Charles, Herve and Amelie just like complimenting her and not understanding how good it makes her feel
Note: don't worry, there are so many kids in this blog, even I have to go and check paddock daycare once in a while!
Cw: reader's insecurity about her postpartum body
You sometimes wondered if Charles noticed all the ways your body changed to accommodate motherhood, especially now having had your third baby. But then you were easily showered with compliments from everyone around you, and you swore Charles, Hervé and Amélie were having a competition on who could give you the most compliments.
"Mama! You look so pretty!", Amélie said, hugging your legs as you prepared your water bottle so you could feed baby Thomas once you sat down, "thank you, ma belle, the hairstyle papa did on you is very pretty, too", you replied.
"Papa! Have you seen mama today? She has a new dress!", Hervé pointed out as you joined the boys in the living room, "This is an old one actually, I've had it since you were a baby, Hervé", you reasoned, suddenly feeling shy with all eyes on you and also feeling a little more beautiful.
The warm temperatures called for a day outside in the pool, the kid excited to have Thomas spend a little bit of time in the water even if Charles just wet his feet since he was only a couple of weeks old, "you're not getting in, mama?", Hervé asked, "your swimsuit makes you look like a princess".
Just on cue, Thomas started crying, recognising it was his hungry cry, "I'm afraid Thomas needs me, I'll swim later", you said as Charles helped you grab Thomas so you could go and feed him.
Your little boy ended up falling asleep on your chest, milk drunk against your skin that was exposed from the neckline of the swimsuit, all while Amélie got out of the pool, wrapping herself in the towel and having Hervé follow suit once Charles mentioned snack time.
"You're so comfy to sleep on, mama", Amélie whispered as she climbed on you after you assured her it would be fine, grasping some of the fabric of your cover up and leaving your hips exposed, the stretch marks fully on show as you thought about all of it. Your body was all of your three kids' first home, providing them comfort, warmth and safety, and now that they were out, you were still those exact same things for them. And they loved you no matter what.
"Do you have room for me?", Hervé asked as he stepped closer to the sun lounger, "Come here, amour", you said as you patted your side, having Hervé cuddle up to you and resting his hand on your tummy mindlessly, sighing happily.
A few moments later, Charles stepped outside, taking the scene in front of him in and laughing loudly, "I don't suppose there's space for me on there, hm?", he smiled.
"I think we can make some room", you said, adjusting your position so Charles could lay closer to your thighs, "maybe there?", you giggled, seeing him happily scoot closer to your and intertwining your legs.
"Don't laugh, amour, I want to touch you too!", Charles said as he achieved what he wanted while his hand squeezed your thigh, "it's not my fault you are such an amazing mama and that we all want a little bit of you!", he chuckled, kissing your temple.
"You really think so?", you wondered, "this is all you, amour, how kind, amazing and great you are - why do you think I'm nearly fighting Hervé for this?", he said as the little boy kept inching closer to you, "she's my mama, you should've gotten her first", your oldest son said before Amélie let out "I agree", making him shake his head as he smiled, "thing is I did get here first, actually, like years before all of them", he chuckled.
(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)
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queenimmadolla · 2 years
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𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ─ 𝐒𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝟖𝟕'
(young parents!Eddie Munson x fem!reader)
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more dad!eddie and penny adventures can be found on my masterlist
summary: . . you leave eddie to watch your newborn with some ‘help’ (they don’t really do anything) from jonathan and argyle.
a/n: everyone lives in Hawkins because i said so. as always, no beta so mistakes will be fixed later. 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
* . *• + . * . * . *• + . * . * . *• + . * . * . *• + . * .
“Dude.”  Argyle leaned in for a closer look, staring deeply into the unimpressed, brown eyes peering up at him from her place in her bouncer, tiny fists curled near her head, fuzzy with dark curls. “You had a baby.” Eddie snickered while Jonathan shook his head in amusement. “Yeah, I know that, man.” “No—you don’t get it, man! Like, you had a baby. You’re a dad. She is composed of half of your DNA. The fruit of your looms!” Jonathan choked on the cold pizza he’d been scarfing down at that bit of Argyle’s rant. “She’s—Oh, she got your eyes, too.”  Argyle ended on a coo, a finger reaching down to run over her soft, chubby cheek. From the moment you and Eddie brought Penny home three weeks ago, you’d been attached to her. Utterly and completely obsessed with the perfect little being your body had spent months creating. While you’d been initially incredibly hesitant to meet her—coherently, at least, she’d been placed on your chest briefly when you’d been having a horrible out of body experience from the pain of having just pushed her out seconds before—it was hard for you to put her down now. You blamed that newborn baby smell. It was your weakness, if she was cradled against you, your head was angled down to sniff at her hair. You loved bonding with her in general, but your mother had made sure Eddie knew to not let you withdraw from society once Penny came, and then she’d told Eddie all about Postpartum Depression, effectively scaring the shit out of him. So that’s how you ended up having a girl’s day with Nancy, Eden and Robin. Sure, you’d started crying after showering your little baby in kisses and love and you’d had to be literally dragged out by the girls but Eddie knew you’d have a good time.
Just like he knew he could totally handle Penny on his own. Jonathan and Argyle had come along with the girls, but both were entirely too curious about Penny to leave. Not at all because Eddie had body blocked the door once they realized their ride was driving off. Alright, he was still scarred from day two out of the hospital.  Max and Lucas had come over to the trailer to visit Penny—Lucas loved holding her, you found it so cute—when you had gone to change Penny’s diaper and immediately began crying out for help. Eddie had never bolted so fast in his entire life with Max and Lucas on his heels, and the sight that greeted them was horrifying in a new parent sort of way. Penny had shit so violently once you’d undone her diaper that it was splattered on the wall, she was peeing all over your hands, and she’d thrown up, the milky looking substance also leaking out of her little nostrils. She herself didn’t look at all phased by what she’d just done. So, yeah. Maybe he needed a little back up for now. “Who’s got beautiful, angel eyes? Who’s got beautiful angel eyes? You do! You do!” Eddie watched Argyle gently tap her little nose, and his heart warmed when he could see his baby smiling around her pacifier. He knew it was probably just gas since she was starting to learn how to use her face, but he liked to imagine she knew just how much everyone loved her; that she’d never have to feel like he did growing up, unloved and alone until Uncle Wayne had stepped in when his father had been arrested and he had no one else. His kid had family. And a damn good one at that. “You can pick her up, if you want.” “Whoa.” Jonathan warned. “Hey now.” Argyle took a physical step back from the newborn, eyeing her skeptically. “And risk dropping her—man, that’s not cool.”
“You won’t drop her, so long as you hold onto her. Kind of common knowledge, but simply don’t let go.” Eddie rolled his eyes, stretching forward from the couch to slip his finger into her tiny little hand. She gripped onto it immediately, and he leaned closer to give it a kiss, inhaling the scent of her skin. He couldn’t blame you for sniffing her all the time—she did smell ridiculously good.
“Fine, man. Then you get her out of that chair thingy, ‘cause I don’t wanna hurt her or something. I’m used to Eden’s siblings, they’re like uh a little older by like a lot and stupid invincible. One of her brothers came down the driveway on his bike just when I pulled up and I hit him with my car. Little dude just got right back up, kicked me and left!”  Eddie’s eyes were wide as saucers as he carefully pulled Penny out of her bouncer—the three of them collectively awing in adoration when her lower half scrunched up on instinct as she brought her hands to the sides of her head— and stood up in front of Jonathan. “You get first dibs since you don’t currently have a likely hood of hitting my daughter with a car at some point in her life.”  Jonathan immediately looked like he wanted to runaway, but ended up hesitantly accepting Penny into the crook of his arms as Eddie handed her over. It had been a while since he last held a baby, the last having been Will and he’d been a kid then, too.
He took to it naturally, though, his body relaxing as he held up her hand, thumb rubbing gently over her soft palm. Her squishy little fingers wrapped over his thumb as she stared up at him, most likely curious about a face she’d seen a couple of times before, but not so often this close. Or maybe she wasn’t thinking at all. 
“She’s so. . . small.” That wasn’t what he meant, he’d meant she looked so innocent, so fragile to the world around her. She wasn’t even his kid, but the longer he held her, the more sure he became of the fact that he’d kick ass to keep her safe, something he didn’t do very often, but very effectively. “I’m an uncle.” Eddie smirked, filled with pride as his daughter won another skeptic over. Jonathan ran a hand over her head, mindful of her soft spot, in awe of how soft her hair was. Damn, she really was cute. And she did have Eddie’s eyes.  “She’s a pretty baby.” He commented, moving his thumb around in her hold. “Not gonna lie, I thought she’d you know, be a little ugly when she came out, what with having been squished through a hole, but no. She was even a pretty newborn.” Eddie admitted, he hadn’t seen a whole lot of newborn babies before Penny, but he knew they looked like little aliens fresh out the womb. “You and baby mama must have been some pretty cute looking babies, then. Any kids Eden and I have are screwed, man. I was hairy as hell and I’ve seen her baby pictures, let’s just say they’re gonna get double takes.” Argyle ranted, but he too was focused on Penny and Jonathan, looking a little envious. Once Jonathan got his fair share, he shifted her around in his hold, making sure to support her head as he transferred her into Argyle’s ready and waiting arms. He seemed to change his tune after witnessing Jonathan hold her and successfully not throw her across the room like a football.
Unlike Jonathan who hadn’t wanted to move her around too much in his grasp, Argyle sat her up right, making sure to support her head at Eddie’s prompting. Penny looked startled as her body tried to slump forward, stopped by Argyle’s hold on her. The pacifier stopped moving, and Eddie tensed, waiting for the cry but it never came. Instead, the pacifier began to move again and she let out a soft grunt, but she didn’t seem to mind all that much.
He relaxed, sinking into the couch on Jonathan’s other side. Argyle noticed her drooping lids and deciding to be brave, placed her back into her bouncer as gently as he’d seen Eddie handle her.
Eddie couldn’t help but grin down at her, taken with the way they’d drop completely only to shoot back up. He was reminded of all the late night conversations the two of you had, and how you always fought sleep off, keen on talking to him instead of sleeping. Your eyelids would get all droopy, you’d close your eyes, and then catch yourself, snapping up and briefly awake before doing it all over again.  Eddie wondered how many more memories of you looking at Penny would trigger for him. He couldn’t wait to figure it out.  As if she knew he was thinking about her, Penny’s gaze wandered to him and he locked eyes with a pair identical to his own. Then she forced her pacifier out of her mouth and began to wail something fierce.  They all jumped up immediately, eyes wide at the sudden drop in her mood. “What did I do? Was it something I said?” Argyle asked, blaming himself as he began to panic. Jonathan was running his hands through his hair, distressed.  “No, you didn’t do anything,” Eddie reassured him as he picked Penny back up and walked to the small kitchen, grabbing a bottle from a recent feeding attempt. “You hungry, little bitty pretty one?” He held the bottle to her lips but that only seemed to make her angrier as she struggled against it, head moving away from the nipple. Her face was all squished up and took on a darker tint as her wails died down to whimpers. Eddie knew what that meant.  He was quick to place the bottle back down, but the damage was done. Penny was silent for the briefest of moments before she began shrieking. Water started to pull in the inner corners of her eyes—a new development, up until two days ago, all she could do was cry but her body hadn’t produced tears yet—and she let her little lungs ring loud in the trailer. Eddie knew his neighbors were probably cursing up a storm but they could kick buckets for all he cared. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. That’s not what you wanted, was it? My poor girl. Daddy’s gonna make it right.” Eddie soothed, cradling her to his chest with one hand holding the back of her head.  It seemed to do some good, hearing his voice had stopped the piercing shrieks, but she was still crying and very loudly.  He pulled her little baby bottoms back to check her diaper, but it was still clean so she couldn’t be upset about that. Eddie sighed, raising her a little higher on his chest so he could nuzzle her, pressing kisses into her sweet smelling hair.
Then it hit him. Penny was tired. That was it. She was just tired but unable to fully slip into blissful slumber on her own and she was upset about it. Eddie wanted to beat his head against the fridge for having overlooked something so obvious. He reached down to turn the knob of the radio, bringing it to life before he began searching for a station. Once he’d stumbled upon one crooning out oldies, he swayed, patting her bottom to further soothe her.
Penny’s cries died down almost immediately, turning into soft grunts instead as her lids began to droop again. It was after Eddie started singing along, his voice low and soft, that she was finally able to fall asleep, snuggled up to her daddy with a fist full of his hair that was most definitely going to be super fun getting out of her grip without waking her. Eddie turned to find Jonathan and Argyle watching them. Jonathan had a ghost of a smile on his face while Argyle stared at him in wonder. “Dude. You’re a dad. You just did a dad thing!” Jonathan grinned. “I agree. Looks like I’m the only freak in town now, you’re Eddie ‘The Dad’ Munson, now.” “Hell yeah, I’ll take it.” Eddie didn’t bother trying to hide his smile, he was cheesing’ it up.  You’d called him something similar a couple of times. Teased him about being Eddie ‘The DILF’ Munson, which was really unfair given you hadn’t been cleared by your doctor to have sex yet, so he couldn’t make that a reality.  “It’s crazy how this time last year, we were freshly graduated, you were eloping against every single adults’ opinion and now you have a baby. It’s mind boggling. But like, at the same time it’s not. . .I don’t know, help me out here.” Argyle slapped the back of his hand against Jonathan’s shoulder a few times.
“Being a dad suits you. You’re good at it. You’re a good dad and a good family man.” Jonathan supplied, meaning every word. He’d know, he had a shitty dad like Eddie did.
 That one simple statement hit Eddie hard, and he held Penny just a little tighter to his chest. “Gotta give her everything I didn’t have.” — You nearly broke the door down when you’d gotten back to the trailer. Despite your hesitance to leave Penny, you’d actually enjoyed the time with your friends. Sure, you spent every single second you weren’t talking thinking about your little family, but you still had fun.  The car ride back was spent wondering how much of a mess the place would be. Robin was expecting there to be a small kitchen fire, Eden was expecting one of the boys to be crying, Nancy was just curious to see how Jonathan had lasted in the presence of a baby. For future after college and established careers purposes, of course. You had faith in Eddie, had seen how quickly he had and still was adapting to being a dad. The others you couldn’t ball park so your money was on Argyle being the crybaby to which Eden quickly agreed.
But you hadn’t come home to any of that. The boys were all sat on the couch, fawning over your baby who had woken up in much better mood. “My baby!” You made grabby hands as they got up to greet you, and Eddie let you scoop her up from his arms in exchange for a kiss. You could hear Robin gagging when she realized she was third wheeling three different couples, so you assumed Nancy and Eden were also receiving ‘welcome back’ smooches.  You leaned down to violently inhale Penny’s new baby smell, pulling back with a look of satisfaction on your face. “That’s the good stuff. How’d it go?” Eddie laughed as he pressed a kiss to your forehead and trailed a finger through Penny’s curls. “Oh, you know. Nothing I couldn’t handle.”
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roanniom · 10 months
Text
What Comes After
Steve Harrington x fem!reader
Summary: When Steve waits too long after you give birth to initiate sex, you take matters into your own hands.
Note: I know very very little about pregnancy and the aftermath. Most of this comes from what I read in other fics, what I’ve vaguely heard from my friends, and a 5 min google search about lactation. Sorry in advance if this is incorrect.
Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, angst that resolves, mentions of pregnancy / babies / parenthood, PIV/unprotected sex, lactation during sex
After you give birth to your baby, you completely assumed Steve would be itching to ravish you the minute your doctor gave the all clear. In fact, you’d been mentally preparing yourself for that since before you went into labor. Those first few weeks afterwards were as rough as people had warned you and then some, but you couldn’t imagine it without your Steve.
Steve who was there beside you for absolutely everything. Late night feedings, mid day crying sessions, general panic attacks about how to do anything right for the first time, really. You’d wake up to hear him in the next room, holding and rocking your daughter back to sleep, his hushed voice soothing her whimpers and in turn lulling you back to rest.
It’s not that you thought the man capable of being such a loving, gentle partner in this new stage of life would turn into some ravenous monster at the first suggestion of sex. It’s just that he’d always been such an attentive, eager, enthusiastic lover, and that had only magnified as your pregnancy had gone on. Your hormones had made you insatiable, especially toward the end. Steve had very much gotten used to you needing to use him like a toy often - sometimes multiple times a day. So it just stands to reason that he would be absolutely itching to get back to it.
But the day of your follow up doctor's appointment came and went and...nothing. You'd come home and let him know the good news, a way smile on your face as you braced for his celebration. Steve had just looked at you over the baby's head where he had her cradled to his chest and smiled.
"Glad to hear you're healing up right, sweetheart!"
And that was that.
You'd assumed maybe he was holding himself back for your daughter's sake. So that night you'd climbed into bed wearing something slightly nicer than the long flowy nightgowns you'd taken to sporting the last few months. You applied a bit of perfume at your pulse points and rubbed a little lotion on your legs. Steve walked in shortly after running a final sweep of the apartment, making sure everything is off and locked up (he's fallen perfectly into the protective father stereotype), and when he crossed the threshold you beamed at him.
"Look at you. All smiley and beautiful and cozy," Steve cooed, sliding into bed beside you. His arms encircled you and pulled you against his body and again, you felt yourself steeling your nerves, ready for the inevitable escalation. So much so that you leaned up to initiate yourself, pressing your lips against your husband's throat. Steve hummed against your ministrations before doing the last thing you thought he'd do - he kissed the top of your head and turned you in his arms, nestling you into a warm, firm grip.
"Good night, baby. Love you," he whispered in your ear.
And that was that.
You'd been pretty surprised by the lack of action. A little rattled actually. But as Steve's breathing evened out and his arms around you became heavier with sleep, you'd reminded yourself that you hadn't really felt ready anyway. Your feelings of rejection assuaged, you'd allowed sleep to take you with him.
However, as the weeks wore on, you were less and less able to ignore the nagging feeling.
With each passing day that your husband didn't initiate sex, you began worrying more and more that he didn't want you anymore. Your postpartum hormones had you feeling wildly unfounded emotions, and you had to keep reminding yourself that they were unfounded because the evidence of Steve's actions didn't line up with your suspicions.
Steve was nothing but physical with you in the aftermath of the birth of your daughter. Constantly coming up behind you and wrapping you in his arms. Constantly showering your face and neck with kisses when he entered any room. Pulling you down to sit in his lap when you finally put the baby down for a nap or for the night. His hands were on you at all times.
Not to mention the fact that you had woken up multiple times in the middle of the night (needing to pee) to the feeling of his hard cock nestled against your curves, his arms pulling you that much tighter against him when you tried to get up.
All of these mixed messaged led to you feeling extremely confused. So much so that you did the first thing you could think of besides confronting the issue head on (because of course you weren't going to ask Steve directly, that would be too mature).
"Why hasn't he...what?!" Eddie's eyes practically bulge out of his head in response to your question. You narrow your eyes at him in contrast.
Steve has run out to get some Chinese food since "Uncle Eddie" has come over for a movie night. The different members of the gang have been coming over each weekend to help you two out and also give you a much needed dose of friendship normalcy. Eddie is sitting on your couch, your daughter in his arms, as you sit beside him with your arms crossed.
"Why hasn't he fucked me since I gave birth?" you repeat expectantly. Eddie does his best to cover the baby's ears.
"There is literally a child - your child - present, you slut," Eddie accuses in a stage whisper. You laugh out loud at that.
"First of all, she can't understand a single word that's being said. And second of all, you can't call me a slut in front of my child." You move to smack him but Eddie ducks, giving you a cheeky smile.
Eddie might be really close with Steve, but you'd very much stolen him as a best friend in your own right. As it stands, Steve has Robin and you have Eddie, that's pretty much the loyalty line. So you attempt to lean on that loyalty to solve your problem.
"C'mon, Eds," you pout. "I'm really dying here."
Eddie's eyes go wide again and he puts his hand back over your sleeping daughter's exposed ear, pressing her other ear further against his chest.
"You're really missing dick that bad?" he whispers. You shrug.
"Not just dick. Steve's dick." It comes out in a whine that has Eddie chuckling. "I'm just worried he doesn't want -,"
"Well shut right the fuck up," Eddie cuts you off with an emphatic shake of his head. "It definitely isn't that he doesn't want you."
"Aha. So you do know more than you were letting on. Spill, Munson." You lean towards him and Eddie realizes he's gotten himself stuck in something he would rather have avoided. He scratches his head with his free hand.
"It's nothing. Really. It's..."
You stare daggers into him and his shoulders sag.
"He's really scared of hurting you."
You blink at that.
"Hurting me?"
Eddie looks extremely uncomfortable, shifting in his seat and looking down at the baby before looking back up at you.
"He read one of those baby books and it said that husbands can...you know...get amorous too soon and..."
You laugh incredulously, but Eddie looks like he wants to jump out of the second story window of your apartment.
"You're laughing, but he mentioned it to Robin and Robin said that it was 100% true and that he could...I don't know...rip you open or some shit-"
"Eddie!" you cut your friend off before he can make himself any more uncomfortable. "I mean, yes. It's true. But I've been cleared by the doctor. It's been like...months since that would have been something to worry about."
Eddie raises an eyebrow at that. The baby fusses quietly in his arms and he automatically bounces his knee to rock her just slightly, soothing her. Despite the nature of your conversation, the whole image melts your heart.
"Look, princess," Eddie says quietly, pulling out his long-used nickname for you. "Steve loves you pretty much more than any one human can possibly love someone. And you know I hate complimenting that asshole."
You snort in response but he continues.
"I'm sure it's killing him, too, to not be...intimate. Have you talked to him about it?"
"I told him that the doctor said it was okay..." you reply, kind of avoiding the question. Eddie groans, dropping his head against the back of the couch.
"This isn't one of those things where you come to me for help and I find out you haven't even tried doing anything to fix it first, is it?"
"Edward Munson, how could you ask me that?" you ask with faux insult. Eddie rolls his head to the side to look at you.
"I can ask you that because of the time you thought Steve wanted to just be friends with you and instead of talking to him you cried to me."
"That's - "
"And that time you thought he'd been sneaking around behind your back, even though all he was doing was planning his proposal."
"Okaaay, Eddie."
"And the time - ,"
"Alright shut up," you snap, not holding back your laughter. You bite your lip and look back at your friend holding your baby, the product of your love with Steve. You chew on the inside of your cheek. "Fine. Maybe I need to do something myself."
"Ya think?" Eddie asks with a grin that says he's way too pleased with himself.
"But you're going to help me."
Eddie's smile turns into an overdramatic frown.
"Why do I have to do anything? It's your sex life, slut."
"Because you love me," you say simply, batting your eyelashes. Eddie goes to respond but in that exact moment your daughter decides to wake up, stretching and giving the cutest tiny yawn in the entire world, melting the metal head in front of you. He glances up at you begrudgingly and then kisses the baby on her nose. Gazing down at her, he coos.
"Guess I'm gonna help your mommy get laid. Again."
~*~
It's about a week later by the time your plan can finally be put into action.
Steve comes home at the end of a long Friday at Family Video, ready to spend the night with his two girls. He runs in the door of your shared apartment and heads straight to the nursery so quickly he doesn't have enough time to register his surroundings. The dimmed lights, the lit candles, the soft music playing. When he reaches the nursery and finds the crib empty, however, Steve's blinders come off.
"Honey? Honey where are you?" Steve asks, calling out and walking back into the living room, unsettled.
That’s when you step out of your bedroom, leaning against the doorway in a silky robe.
“Right here, Stevie.”
Steve’s jaw drops open at the sight of you, all the air knocked from his lungs. He blinks rapidly. Seemingly unable to process what’s going on.
“Baby…?”
“She’s with Joyce and Hopper for the night,” you reply, though you know the pet name was for you and not a question about your daughter. Steve looks around the room as if taking the state of it in for the first time, but also as if he is slightly aimless without a baby to care for.
“That’s…wow. Is it too soon? It’ll be weird not putting her to bed,” Steve says, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly.
You know what he means. When Eddie had come to get her earlier this afternoon, you’d felt like your heart was being ripped from your body. But looking at your husband right now - feeling the chasm between you close as his eyes rake down your body - you know it was the right thing to do.
"We needed a night to be grown ups. Don't you think, Steve?" you ask, pushing off from the doorway. Your silk robe slips open, revealing a gauzy babydoll night dress that hits right at your upper thigh. You swear Steve turns a shade of red you've never seen in a matter of seconds. You can hear an audible swallow as you move into Steve's space, tugging at his Family Video vest till it falls off his shoulders and onto the floor. "You want that, too, don't you?"
You don't give him a second to respond. Instead you crawl your fingers up under his shirt, grasping at his sides to pull him to you as you big to kiss the side of his neck. The shuddering inhale is a good indication of the effect you're having on him, followed immediately by the way his arms encircle your body.
This is what you've wanted. What you've needed. What you've craved every night as you laid beside your doting, sweet, silly husband, desperate for a touch he hadn't necessarily deprived you of, but a touch which you needed more more more.
"Honey." He says it like a prayer. Like a question to be answered. You pull back from his skin long enough to look up and find his face a storm of emotion. Love and lust and worry swirl together, but before you can move to comfort or question him, his lips are on yours. Kissing you for all he's worth. For all you're worth. For all the two of you are worth combined.
The kissing never stopped. That wasn't something he'd been holding back from you these past few months. But clearly he'd been holding back in intensity, because there's something all-consuming about the way Steve is kissing you now. It has you gasping for air in the mere seconds of reprieve he gives you before he's back to devouring your mouth, his hands roaming all over the body he'd spent so long treating with kid gloves.
You're the one who begins walking backwards, leading him into the bedroom without pulling away from the kiss. It's easy to forget about the other plans you'd made for the evening. The bottle of wine on the counter, the meal on the table. You'd assumed you might have to wine and dine Steve. Get him a little loose and convince him to ravish you. You hadn't expected him to crumble like this or to become as nonverbal as he has since he walked in the door. Your usually talkative man has dissolved into nothing but pants and grunts as he tries his best to get his lips and hands on every part of you he can.
When the backs of your knees hit the bed and you pull him down on top of you, however, he does finally seem to come to his senses.
"We...oh fuck. We don't have to do anything, honey," Steve mutters, albeit into your lips.
"Wanna do everything, Stevie," you say in response, grabbing his hands and placing them back on your swollen breasts. Steve groans into your jaw this time but is more successful in his attempt to pull away.
"Sweetheart, we should slow down."
"No, we shouldn't," you say, a bit more indignant this time. Realizing that Steve is no longer putting any of his body weight on you, you panic and do the first thing that comes to mind - you yank him down and then twist so that his back is against the mattress so you can clamber on top of him.
"Honey, what are you - ?"
"Steve. I need you to fuck me. And if you’re worried you’re gonna hurt me, just forget about it because I’ve been healed for months at this point and you know it.”
You know your eyes must be shining with unshed tears at this point so you do your best to blink them away, hoping they aren’t visible to Steve in the low light. But of course he notices. It’s Steve.
He immediately sits up so he can be face to face as you straddle him, his large hands coming to cup your face like you’re so delicate you’ll break.
“I just…the books said…you were in so much pain after the birth…”
Steve looks way more lost than you’ve ever seen him, his hair tousled from your hands and his eyes darting everywhere in discomfort before resting back on yours. You wait for him to continue but he doesn’t so you squeeze his biceps.
“Steve. You have to tell me these things that you’re worried about.”
“I know…” he tries to dismiss you, looking away. It makes you grab his chin.
“I thought you didn’t want me anymore,” you finally say plainly. Steve’s eyes stop looking for anywhere else to rest, instead flying to your face and blowing wide. He opens his mouth but you keep going. “I thought you weren’t attracted to me anymore. That you didn’t see me in that way…”
“Honey, stop,” Steve says, speaking forcefully for the first time all night. For the first time in months. “That’s crazy. You know that? You know you’re talking crazy, right? Like certifiably insane.”
“Steve…”
“How could you say that? Are you out of your mind?” His voice raises a bit as he gets more riled up. It makes you bite your lip.
“Don’t…don’t belittle…” you can feel the flood of emotion starting to surge to the surface, the dam much quicker to break these days since you gave birth. Steve grips you tighter, hand on the back of your neck to force you to look at him.
“I’m not belittling your fears. You are belittling my love for you if you think for one second that I’m not attracted to you anymore. That I don’t fall in love with you again every single time I lay eyes on you. That I don’t want you with every dumb molecule in my being. And I know I was shitty in science class but I know thats a lot of fucking molecules. You’re belittling my feelings if you don’t think I want to keep my hands on you every waking minute and that it kills me that that’s not possible. That I don’t get out of bed really early each morning and jerk off in the shower just because I had you in my arms all night.”
A wet chuckle comes out of you unbidden. The corner of Steve’s mouth quirks up but his brow remains furrowed.
“You have to tell me when you’re worried about things, honey,” he says quietly as he rests his forehead against yours.
“Isn’t that literally what I just said to you?” you scoff incredulously. Steve leans back and finally gives you a lopsided smile.
“Well not exactly. I’m sure I changed the words a little bit.”
“Steve Harrington, that is word for word—,”
You’re cut off when Steve closes the gap between you with a kiss. There’s not once ounce of protest left in you. You are starved for his affection. Greedy to consume and be consumed. You kiss him back with everything you have. It is heated and wet and hard and everything that you have been needing. You push and he gives. Allowing you to pressure him down so his back is once again against the bed.
You’re grinding against him now and it’s so good. A triumphant zing runs down your spine at the feeling of how thick and hard he is for you, reciprocating all of your feelings and reinforcing all of his words.
Steve Harrington wants you.
The father of your child and the love of your life.
Your Steve.
When Steve’s lips migrate down over the slope of your jaw to suck at your pulse, you moan loudly. The feeling of suction travels all the way through your body to the space between your legs and before you can do anything to counter it, you’re rocking back and forth against Steve in search of any friction possible.
“Steve. Please,” you practically sob out. He puts his hands on either side of your face but before he can say anything, you continue whimpering. “Please, Steve. Just give me something, anything—,”
“Shh, honey,” Steve says, kissing your heated face. “You don’t have to beg. I’m so sorry to have made you think you ever have to beg. For anything.”
The next series of events plays out in slow motion. Both because it’s the culmination of all of your hopes and wishes for the last few months and because Steve moves incrementally. Gently.
“We’re gonna take this slow, honey,” Steve says quietly as he rolls so that you’re the one on your back, your head propped up on pillows. He grabs one additional pillow and lifts your hips up so that they are elevated by the cushion.
“We don’t—,” you try to interrupt but Steve hushes you again, not unkindly.
“Baby, I’ll bend you over and fuck you so hard the neighbors call 911 again soon,” he chuckles and you cringe at the memory of one of the best nights of sex of your life. Steve takes a shuddering breath, looking down at you spread out for him. “But tonight…we’re gonna do this slow. For both of us.”
Big hands slide the hem of your babydoll nightgown up, revealing your naked pussy which immediately receives attention. Steve presses two fingers to your clit and begins to go in tried and true circular motions.
“I’m just saying. We could go faster…oh.” You’re cut off when one of Steve’s fingers slides all the way into you, causing your eyes to roll back. Steve chuckles and leans forward to kiss your exposed throat.
“Baby, I need to go slow. Don’t you get it?” he mutters into your skin. He moves his finger in and out of you slowly. “You’re acting like you’re the only one who hasn’t been fucked in months.”
The perspective has you preening, but before you can dig into that further, Steve presses the weight of his body on you and you’re a goner.
It’s all weight and skin and sweat and the skim of flesh on flesh and moans and warm breath.
You begin to forget where Steve ends and you begin. You both are one raw nerve ending, spurred on by gasps and rubs and moans. As someone whose patience had seemingly run out, you’re surprised to realize how easy it is to lose track of time with your lover so lost in you, and you in him. You don’t know how long it is that you revel in touch and pressure and heat before you feel him prodding at your entrance. Swollen and hot and and hard and needy and yours.
“Ready, baby?” Steve asks. He sounds far away, but you make sure to muster up eye contact so you can assure him as much as possible.
“Ready, Steve.”
He pushes in slow, and you’re pleased to confirm that you were right. You are ready for him. For this. There’s no discomfort. Just the inevitable sting of his size invading you in every way.
“Oh fuck,” you say quietly. Steve pulls out and then drives back in, more firm this time. You squeeze your eyes shut. “Oh fuck, fuck.”
“Get it all out, baby,” Steve says with a roguish grin. “Say whatever you need to tonight. Don’t want to be all foul mouthed with our daughter around.”
You know he’s joking but you roll your eyes.
“Well Eddie Munson called me a slut in front of our daughter the other day, so—,”
“He WHAT?!” Steve stops immediately, eyes wide. You laugh and grab at his ass, trying to force him to start moving again.
“It’s nothing. Just a joke. Come on, keep going!”
“You saying he called you a slut was a joke or him calling you a slut was the the joke?” Steve asks warily, but he does slowly begin thrusting back into you.
“The second one. I mean the first. I mean both - ah!” you gasp at the feeling of Steve nudging against a delicious spot inside you. Your nails dig deep into his arm. “Oh god.”
“Am I going to have to limit Eddie’s family privileges?” Steve jokes, knowing fully well that Eddie is yours just as much as Robin is his. You’re squinting up at him, brow furrowed. It’s adorable.
“Can you stop talking about Eddie Munson while you’re making me feel like this?” you ask.
“Hey, you’re the one who brought him up.”
You don’t dignify that with a response. Instead you surrender yourself to the pleasure melting through your bloodstream. Steve can see it on your face. It makes his ego swell in that way it always used to. A boyish grin splits his face and his hips pick up the pace.
“Making you feel like this, huh?” He quotes you. “Feels good?”
“Yeah. So good.”
“This what you wanted? Just wanted me to fuck you like old times?”
“If it was - oh god - like old times we’d both be drunk and fooling around in the bathroom at the - fuck - Hideout,” you try to say, though you’re interrupted by your own moans.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Steve says, leaning down and sucking on your throat again. There will definitely be marks, but you don’t have it in you to care or reprimand him. “I’m drunk on you right now.”
“Steve…,” you whisper. The name cracks in your throat when he snakes his hand down to play with your clit.
“Sounds like you’re drunk, too, baby - oh.”
The tone of his “oh” is different from his earlier teasing and you look down. Two wet spots have formed in the silk nightgown over your breasts.
“Shit. Shit,” you whine.
“Is that…”
“I’m lactating. I’m lactating during sex, Steve.” You have your hands slapped over your eyes to hide you away from the mortification of the moment.
“It’s ok. Hey. Hey! It’s okay.” Steve is chuckling, but his hands do their best to peel yours away from your eyes. Your crumpled face makes his heart hurt so he kisses your cheeks. “Baby, it’s okay. You were feeling good, right?”
“Yeah…but…”
“There’s no but. That’s all that matters,” Steve says definitively before dropping a more insistent kiss on your lips. His tongue delves into your mouth, his fingers winding in your hair. He’s trying to distract you. And it’s working, because soon your hips are rolling, trying to get him to start thrusting back into you again.
Steve finally pulls back, his hand gentle on your jaw.
“Do they hurt?” he asks quietly, glancing down at your breasts and back up.
“They’re a bit achey, yeah,” you admit. He leans down and presses a kiss to the valley between them. Your breath catches at the feeling. Steve hand comes up to cup one gingerly and you bite your lip. “Maybe don’t touch my nipples too much. Sensitive.”
“Of course, baby,” Steve agrees. He sits up higher, propping himself up with a hand by your head so that he’s leaning over you but has the leverage to pick up his thrusts again. Before long the feeling of him bottoming out inside you has you releasing a steady stream of moans. “Seems like you’re sensitive all over, huh?”
“Mmmmyeah,” you confirm, eyes shut tight against the pleasure.
Steve can feel your pussy start to clamp down on him. It’s his favorite feeling in the world - one his own fist could never hope to replicate. The apparent nearness of your orgasm spurs him on more than any aphrodisiac and he begins panting openly, his hips picking up speed.
“You’re close, I know you are, honey.”
You just nod furiously, practically beyond words as you grip his biceps for all you’re worth. Steve lets out a breathless chuckle.
“I know, me too, honey. You gotta cum for me, okay?”
“Steve…” you gasp out, peering up at him through lust hazed eyes.
“Yeah?”
“Don’t…don’t make me go this long again,” you say weakly. “Please.”
Steve’s heart absolutely splinters at the way you say it. He drops himself even lower against you, his thrusts taking on a even harder, more intentional quality.
“I won’t. I promise,” Steve says hoarsely right into your ear, his lips mouthing at the lobe as he does so. “I’ll fuck you right, baby. You’ll see. You’ll never have to ask again.”
You spasm in his arms shortly after Steve makes that promise to you. He’s not far behind, especially not with the way you cry out his name like is both a prayer and and answer to one. He spills into your still quaking walls with a guttural groan that you do your best to swallow, somehow not satiated by the sex alone. You need to consume Steve’s being.
~*~
What comes after shouldn’t be your favorite part, but somehow it is. It’s the part where Steve holds you in his arms, sweaty and still shaking a little. Kisses pepper your temples and his breath fans over your face. After a while, a comedically timed stomach growl reminds you both that neither of you have eaten, so you finally stumble out to the kitchen, naked and draped over one another, to eat a meal.
It’s the part later in the evening where you try to suck Steve’s cock while watching tv, but he won’t let you because he won’t let the mother of his child bruise her knees (he’ll change his tune in a few weeks but it’s cute for now). Instead he drags you back to bed for the night and makes you cum on his tongue before fucking you once more and ensuring you have the heaviest sleep you’ve had in months.
It’s the part the next morning where you wake up with still a few hours to go before Eddie brings your daughter back from Joyce and Hopper’s. Where you wake up to your husband wrapped around you, his morning wood tucked between your thighs. This time you don’t hesitate in initiating yourself. Taking what you both want. Steve’s moans score your morning beautifully, while his cum paints the canvas of your belly and your face wears a self satisfied grin.
Your favorite part is having quiet cups of coffee in the kitchen. Holding hands as you wait for the toast to pop up. Reading the morning paper and handing Steve the comics section without having to be asked. Reaching a hand out to fluff his hair fondly when he reads out the most ridiculous panels.
Your favorite part is when Eddie brings your daughter back and you get to watch the light in Steve’s eyes magnify as he picks her up in his arms. He coos at her and she smiles and you sweat you ascend to heaven.
Eddie lingers in the doorway after Steve hoists the diaper bag and brings his precious cargo into the living room.
“So are you all…satisfied?” Eddie asks uncomfortably. You punch him in the shoulder but you’re unable to hide the massive smile on your face.
“Yes. Yes I am, thank you,” you reply, completely genuine. Eddie grins back at you, squeezing your hand.
“I’m happy for you, slut.”
You’re about to reply when you both freeze, surprised by a loud voice coming from the living room.
“EDWARD MUNSON, IF YOU CALL MY WIFE A SLUT ONE MORE TIME!”
~*~
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I hope you enjoyed! Please comment and reblog to let me know, thanks for reading!
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s1ckh1mb0 · 3 months
Text
Cw//small part on body dysphoria and postpartum
Babydad Connie! loves the intimacy of tit sucking. He loves having you sit on his lap, grabbing your waist and pressing you closer to him. Soft rnb playing in the background while you tell him about your stressful day. It starts off with a few kisses going down your neck till he lifts up your shirt freeing your tits. He looks up at you when he hears a small sniffle and see you trying your best to avoid his gaze. He brows furrowed and he didn’t even have to ask what was wrong, Husband Connie! already knew. He knew since you had y’all baby girl your self image wasn’t the same as before. Your postpartum got the best of you some days you just felt depressed and disappointed on how you (in your mind) you couldn’t bounce back to your old body. Connie on the other hand couldn’t be more attracted to you and here he was mumbling that against your skin. His hand rubbing against the stretch marks left by your little girl. He loved how you looked now and he loved to remind you of it. “Mi Estrella look at you. So fucking beautiful. Carried our beautiful daughter who came out looking just like her mama. Who cares about a few stretch marks huh?” He lowered his head to your tits placing small hickies on them till he finally got to your nipples “gonna show you how beautiful I still fucking find you.”
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mandarinmoons · 3 months
Note
Spencer x wife!reader who’s insecure about her postpartum body? I just know he’d be the sweetest little smorgasbord of love ever
"smorgasbord of love" omg I love that
The past few years have been the happiest time for you. You met the love of your life and after some time of dating Spencer proposed, which you obviously agreed to, and not long after that you both welcomed a precious bundle of joy into your family.
Your little girl, Bailey, was your angel and the apple of Spencer’s eye. The second you saw her in Spencer’s arms your love for him quadrupled, if that’s even possible, and it seemed to grow even more as time passed. Every second of spare time Spencer had he made sure to spend it with his daughter, whether it was watching cartoons with her or helping you change her diapers, he was a dream come true.
Even though everything seemed to be perfect from the outside, things weren’t always so beautiful in your mind. Something you struggled with for as long as you could remember was your body image and now that you managed to carry a baby through 9 months of exhausting pregnancy the image you had of yourself began to warp even more. You knew you shouldn’t think that way, after all you were healthy enough to bring this beautiful little miracle into yours and Spencer’s life, but sometimes the dark thoughts took over and you weren’t able to ignore them.
There you were, stood in front of the mirror as you lifted up your shirt to see the skin loose around your stomach. Stretch marks riddled your sides, which were already present before the pregnancy, but were now more apparent than before. You sighed as you put your shirt down and rubbed your hands over your face to try and soothe yourself and a moment later you felt arms wrap around your waist along with a few kisses peppered over your shoulder.
“You okay hun?”
As you removed your hands from your face and looked at the mirror in front of you, you saw Spencer looking up at you with the same amount of love they’ve always carried. How he managed to look at you the same way after all that your body had been through was mind boggling to you.
“I know I shouldn’t feel bad about the way that I look, but”, your eyes filled with tears, but before you were able to finish your sentence Spencer pulled you into his chest as his hand caressed your back in a soothing manner.
“Sweetheart, you are so beautiful to me and the way you look now only adds to your beauty. Look at you, you carried my child and every little mark on you is a reminder of that. You could never be more beautiful to me and if we ever have more children then you will only keep getting more beautiful to me.”
Your head rested on Spencer’s chest and a small smile creeped up on your lips as you heard Spencer speak, how could this man get any more loving with you? 
“Thanks Spence, I really do love you.”
“And I love you, more than you could ever know.”
You giggled and pressed a sweet kiss to Spencer’s cheek which in turn made him smile, however the moment was cut short as both of you heard a cry coming from the other room.
“I got this,” Spencer hurried to the other room to take the crying baby into his arms and you followed suit. Walking through the door you saw Spencer cradling Bailey in his arms as he shushed her and lightly sang along to a lullaby. You walked over to them and caressed Bailey’s head as she slowly calmed down and you and Spencer looked at each other.
“Good job Dr. Daddy.”
Spencer chuckled and pressed a kiss to your ear, “You did a good job too mommy.”
Taglist: @radioactiveinvisible @whoisspence @sreidisms @lanascinnamongirls @luvkatryna @iluvreid @notn4t
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littlejuicebox · 3 months
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Dadstarion prompt (sorry if I missed the boat on this!) - insecure postpartum Tav, struggling with their new body. Maybe some body worship from Astarion 👀? (Personal experience - I really struggled postpartum with adjusting to my new body, it changed in ways I never even imagined). Thank you and just want to say I love your Astarion 🥰
Adore You
Thanks for your request! Not 100% sure this is what you were looking for, but I already had a mostly finished piece I was working on that definitely fits the body-worship and Tav struggling with her body parts of this prompt. It's smut, though, and when the smut gods bless, I cannot deny their gifts.
Glad you love my Astarion! I adore him. And he adores his Tav. ;)
Summary: You are struggling with your post-partum body. Astarion is here to remind you that he still adores you.
This follows my Dadstarion section of my AstarionxReader series. But no worries, you can read it as a OneShot. Here’s the gist: Astarion is mortal and you have three children together. Gale, named after the Wizard of Waterdeep and the twins. That’s about all you need to know! See my other fics for more info and storylines.
Tags/Warnings: smut with a plot, body image issues, angst w/ comfort, PiV, fingering, oral, light overstim, light daddy kink, breast milk, breast milk drinking, all the depravity i'm generally known for tbh, light creampie kinda?
Word Count: 2.8K
A/N: I'm an unhinged degenerate and no I won't apologize. Also women’s bodies are amazing and can produce life and are beautiful and my Astarion appreciates that about his Tav okay?
“Thank the gods for the nanny,” Astarion says with a dramatic sigh as he enters the bedroom, closing the door quietly behind him, “Gale was about to make me read ‘P is for Peacock’ a third time and I was close to ripping my hair out, darling.” 
You chuckle softly as your husband greets you from where you’re seated at the vanity with a brief kiss and then moves to the small table in the corner of your bedroom to pour himself a goblet of wine. 
“And the twins?” He asks as his eyes watch the red liquid fall into the cup beneath it. He takes a few sips as you speak before setting the cup back down on the table.
“I’ve just fed them not too long ago and now they’re both asleep. Having Winifred to help me get them on the same schedule has been wonderful.” You respond as your husband nods and prepares a second, smaller goblet of wine, which he brings to you.
He settles himself beside you while you finish braiding your hair for bed and hums contentedly, “Perfect.”
Astarion’s hands wrap around your midsection and before you can stop yourself, you feel your body tense under his touch. The silver-haired elf pauses and frowns before retracting his hands, “Do you not want me to touch you, darling? You need only tell me.” 
You sigh and shrug as you finish off the half-portioned goblet in one long drink, mostly to avoid your husband’s gaze,  “It’s not that, it’s— it’s stupid.” 
“Look at me, little love.” He whispers, his fingers coming under your chin as they gently coax you to face him and meet his gaze. He moves forward and presses a soft kiss against your lips before continuing, “I love you. More than anything. You know this. Now, won’t you tell me whatever is the matter so that I can help?”
Your husband waits as you gather your thoughts. It’s complicated, it’s embarrassing. You know it’s silly, and vain, and yet you can’t help yourself. And you aren’t quite sure how to verbalize it all.
“I hate my body.” You finally say, your voice cracking as you speak, and something about finally saying that evil little thought aloud causes tears to spring in your eyes. 
Astarion’s mouth falls open in surprise and then he furrows his brows and quickly wraps his arms around your shoulders, not knowing what to say or do apart from physically enveloping you in his love. 
You continue on, speaking into his neck, sniffling as a few more tears run down your cheeks, “After Gale, I quickly returned to my previous weight. I hadn’t had any stretch marks. But carrying the twins— it’s different, Astarion. And I was expecting it to an extent but I just— I hate my body and I hate the way I look.” 
There is a moment of silence as your husband simply holds you against him, allowing space for your tears. When he speaks, his voice is a soft murmur into your hair, “Not that you should care what I think, but I adore your body, darling. And I love everything about the way you look.” 
You scoff and withdraw from your husband with teary, reddened eyes narrowed at him, “You have to say that.”
“I do not have to do anything,” He retorts, arching his eyebrow in a challenge, “Weren’t you the one that taught me that?” 
When you don’t respond, Astarion continues on, knowing he’s won. He takes your hand in his, gently lifting it to press a kiss against your knuckle. 
“I adore your hands. Which have both slain monsters and soothed our children,” He whispers before trailing kisses up your arm and to your neck where he presses another reverent kiss against those little fang scars. 
“I adore your neck, which once provided me with sustenance I hadn’t known in centuries.” 
Your face is beginning to grow hot under his devoted attention and compliments, and you move to shrink away from your husband, but he gently grabs you by the waist. He leans into you and brushes his nose at the meeting point between your ear and neck as he inhales the smell of your skin. 
“Why are you trying to hide from me, darling?” He asks with a little sulky pout, his chin resting on your shoulder. 
“I’m not, I—“ You begin, but Astarion quickly shushes you. 
“Then just be quiet and let me adore you, hm?” He asks before running his tongue against those fang marks, making you shiver. 
You nod slightly and your husband grins, “Good girl. Now, come here.” 
Astarion pats his lap and you slide to sit upon his thighs, forgetting your finished goblet on the floor underneath your vanity stool. He rests his chin upon your shoulder as the two of you gaze in the mirror together. 
“Do you remember when I used to do this all the time?” Astarion asks, not truly waiting for a response before his long fingers trace down the side of your neck, brush along your collarbone, and then wander toward your waist, aiming to untie your dressing gown. He moves slowly and watches your expression in the mirror, waiting for you to give him any indication to stop. 
But you didn’t want him to stop. Despite your feelings about your body, you still deeply crave your husband’s comforting touch. 
The silky fabric slips down your shoulders and pools around your waist, baring you before his adoring eyes. The elf smiles and presses a kiss to the back of your shoulder, still watching the two of you in the mirror. 
“Beautiful,” He whispers as he peppers a few kisses up your shoulder and the back of your neck, igniting a trail of goosebumps across your skin.
Astarion slowly drifts his hands up your sides before moving to cup a heavy, milk-stretched tit in each hand. The sensation causes you to wriggle. 
His tone is reverent, almost a whisper as he turns his head just slightly and flashes a toothy grin, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks, “I adore your breasts, which have fed our eldest and now feed our twins.”
He chuckles salaciously before saying the next part, “And which, on more than one delicious occasion, have also fed me.”
Your husband lightly teases circles around your nipples as he finishes the line that he knows will cause you to blush and then gently nips at your ear lobe, earning him a gasp. You feel Astarion’s arousal pressing into your backside as he continues to caress your breasts and uses two fingers from each hand to tease and stimulate your nipples. You arch into his touch and your thighs press together as you feel a growing slickness between your legs from his attentions. 
One of your breasts begins to leak milk, and when your husband feels the warm liquid dripping onto his fingers he hums and brings the digits to his lips. You watch in the mirror as Astarion dips the two fingers into his own mouth and licks them clean while continuing to tease your other breast. 
It isn’t long before that one begins leaking, too, and your lover chuckles in delight as he watches the liquid gold trail down the bottom of your breast and languidly drip down your stomach. 
The elf brings two fingers to slowly swipe up the stream of white liquid. Then he brings those same fingers to your lips, prompting you to open your mouth.
“Good girl,” He purrs before pressing those two digits against your tongue. Astarion lingers for a moment and you shut your eyes as you eagerly wrap your lips around his slender fingers and suck. You hear a little hum by your ear and feel your lover’s cock twitch in delight underneath you as he observes the scene.
“You are a vision, love.” He murmurs, as he slides his hand away from your lips, “Now, let me take care of you the way you deserve.”
The elf gestures for you to stand, causing your robe to completely slide off your body into a pool on the floor, before he quickly spins you and then hoists you onto the vanity desk. The smallest flicker of that arrogant rogue dances across his face as Astarion moves forward to dip his tongue into your mouth. He unhurriedly teases your tongue against his as he roams his hands up and down your torso until you're panting and moaning softly into his mouth. 
When he retracts, his pupils are filled with lust. His hands come to quickly pull his shirt over his head and then undo the laces of his trousers. Before long he’s standing in front of you in only his small clothes. 
Astarion grabs your hand and guides it to the bulge straining between his legs as he asks, “Do you feel what that divine body of yours does to me, little love?” 
“Yes– my love, I want–” You begin as you eagerly try to delve your hand inside your husband’s undergarments, desperate to free his gorgeous cock. But he catches your wrist and stops you with a soft tut and a playful glint in his eyes. 
“Soon. But not yet, darling. I haven’t quite finished adoring you yet. And I’ve got the best seat in the house.” He teases, before settling himself back onto the vanity bench and grinning mischievously up at you, “Now, be a good girl and open those beautiful, plush thighs of yours for me, won’t you?” 
You oblige, and Astarion takes a moment to admire you, fully barren to him and already soaked with arousal. His arms come under your knees, spreading you wider for him, as he grips your thighs with his hands. Then he turns and begins pressing tender kisses up your thigh. He makes slow work of the task, humming contentedly on his journey toward your sex and always lingering longer in the spots where you’ve developed stretch marks. 
By the time his face is right in front of your mound, you’re positively leaking for Astarion and he groans appreciatively at the sight. 
“Beautiful. I will never tire of seeing that gorgeous cunt dripping for me, darling,” He murmurs and before you can respond, your husband is delving his tongue between your folds and eagerly feasting upon your juices. 
You moan in delight when Astarion brings his tongue to trace around your clit, so familiar with your preferences that it doesn’t take long for him to coax you toward your peak. His tongue dances expertly around the swollen nub, each pass causing your pleasure to build. Two of his long, pale fingers slide into you, meeting no resistance, and he slowly pumps the digits in and out of your walls. 
You grasp onto Astarion’s curls and whine when he adds a third finger, and he knows you’re close, so he continues his ministrations and adds more pressure as he curls his fingers just so. His other hand comes up to find your nipple and tease it between his fingers as you climb the final steps toward your climax. 
A final flick of Astarion’s tongue, a final stroke of his fingers, and you burst with pleasure, whining in delight as your thighs tremble on either side of his head. Your walls spasm and send another gush of arousal onto the elf’s face. You begin leaking breast milk once again. 
“Delicious,” Your husband murmurs as he pulls back slightly to admire the glistening of your sex and then presses forward and takes one more lap of your sensitive folds, causing you to buck into his mouth as he chuckles against you. Astarion languidly runs his tongue up to your stomach, lapping at the thin rivulets of milk running down your torso and covering his face in a shiny layer of your juices and breast milk.
Then he stands to his full height and finally— finally— steps out of his small clothes. His pale cock springs proudly from its confinement, dripping thin strings of pre-come from the reddened tip, just for you. 
“Get over here, Astarion,” You eagerly demand, voice hoarse from your cries as you hook your legs around his torso and pull him against you. 
“Anything for my little love,” Your husband responds, voice full of gravel as he runs the underside of his cock against your slit, using it to lubricate his length. 
And then the head of his cock presses into you and your mouth falls open as Astarion buries himself to the hilt. His thumb comes to lightly tease your still-tender clit as he slowly rocks his hips back and forth. He’s watching your face intently as he thumbs circles around that needy, engorged bundle of nerves. 
You use your legs to pull the elf deeper and he grins before lowering his head so that it’s right by your ear. He takes the lobe in his mouth and suckles gently, causing you to whimper.
“You’ll do one more for me, won’t you darling? You always look so gorgeous when you do.” He coaxes, his mouth so close to your ear his breath tickles the sensitive flesh. And then he’s pitching his hips just slightly, aiming to hit your favorite spot with the tip of his cock. He’s gasping and grunting now as his own need for release starts to overpower him.
You’re almost there. You’re keening with each thrust from Astarion and your walls are clenching tighter and tighter around his cock. 
He moans in response at the sensation before pressing his thumb harder against your clit and rubbing it with single-minded intensity, working you toward release. You begin to relentlessly whimper again and Astarion smiles, his eyes locked onto yours as he watches your face contort in the feeling of immense pleasure.
 “There you go, little love. Let go for daddy.” He whispers, bringing his other hand to palm the ample flesh of your ass. 
And gods, you do. 
The second orgasm ripples through you harder than the first, and you have to clasp your hand around your mouth to stifle your moan. Your walls are pulsing around your lover’s cock as you ride the wave of ecstasy.
You go almost slack and before long Astarion is ripping your hand away from your face and pressing his lips against yours in a bruising kiss as he begins to rut wildly into you, shaking the vanity with every thrust. 
“Gods, the things your body does to me,” He growls as he pulls away from your lips, snapping his hips at a punishing pace as he chases his own release. Astarion’s hand is clutching firmly into your bottom, gripping so tightly there’s sure to be bruising tomorrow. His curls fall in front of his face and his ears begin to turn red as he continues to fuck you into oblivion.
Your husband is trying with every fiber of his being to hold on, to stretch out the delicious sensation of his cock plunging in and out of your walls, but every stroke into your tightness is pushing him further and further towards his peak. He snaps his eyes shut, shaking with the effort it’s taking him to restrain himself, to continue enjoying the feeling of your flesh gripping around his.
You are so thoroughly fucked that you cannot do anything but hold onto your lover and keen underneath him as he continues pounding into you.
 “Darling— hells — my love, you’re so tight, I can’t— I’m—“ 
And then with a sudden, sharp inhale of breath, Astarion is burying his thick length inside your walls and trembling as his cock twitches, relentlessly releasing its spend. He gasps into your ear as he slows his hips, but continues to rut, using his still-hard length to press his seed deeper into you. 
His praises come out in an incoherent string as he continues to languidly rock his hips back and forth. You cup his face in your hands as you kiss him, and Astarion smiles into the kiss, finally stilling his hips as his cock softens between you two. 
“Come here, little love.” He whispers, hooking his arms underneath you. You intuitively wrap your legs around your husband’s torso and he easily carries you to the bathroom. When he finally places you down, he brushes a few strands of hair from your face and then places a tender kiss on your forehead.
“Now let’s get you cleaned up.” He says, turning to start the tap before tossing a glance over his shoulder and chuckling lightly, “And then I have to fix your braid, dear… I’m sorry to tell you that I ruined it.” 
“I think you might have also bruised my ass,” You respond, turning to flash your bottom at Astarion. 
He drops down on his knees to examine the curve of your ass, one nimble finger brushing against the blooming blue marks. You let out a little whine in response, the flesh still tender. 
Astarion presses his lips onto the bruise and lingers for a moment. Then he pulls away and frowns slightly, eyes glossing across the marks before he looks up at you and says, “I’m sorry, darling.”
“It’s okay,” You respond, glancing back to grin over your shoulder. You see your husband peering up at you, the picture of devotion, “I enjoyed it.” 
“Did you, now?” He asks with an amused smirk, his eyebrow cocking in that signature arrogant way of his. 
You nod just slightly as he places another kiss against those little bruises. His hands travel up your thighs, brushing against the wetness dripping from your sex and onto your legs. Two fingers tenderly stroke between your drenched slit. 
“Hmm, and what do we have here, little love? Is this something else that needs cleaning? Won’t you let me take a look?”
You blush but oblige anyway, leaning forward over the counter and exposing your sex, leaking with Astarion’s seed and your arousal. 
He grins and licks a long strip between your folds, causing you to buck slightly and whimper at the stimulation on your still-sensitive cunt. 
“Too sensitive? Want me to stop?” He asks gently from behind you, one hand wrapped around your thigh.
“No, keep going.” You urge him, bending forward to further reveal yourself to him, eager to feel his skilled tongue pressed into you once more. 
A small groan of appreciation from your husband is all you hear before he delves his tongue back between your legs, working to clean up the mess he made. 
The bathtub overflows and spills water onto the floor before he’s done adoring you. At least for tonight.
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1800-fight-me · 1 month
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Hiiiiiiii. :)
First I love love love your fics.
You’re awesome.
Secondly you have a fic called duty and honor or something like that, where Aemond goes to war and his little wife is pregnant.
In it Aegon makes comments to her that she doesn’t like. I was wondering if you would write a continuation fic where now Aemond is back he over hears his brother and becomes all protective knowing this has been happening all the time he was away as well.
Just love protective pissed off In love Aemond and the way you write him, makes a girl swoon :) 🌹
Of Retribution & Desire
Aemond Targaryen x Female!Reader
Rating: M (Mature) (as always - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)
Warnings: Violence, reader is a couple weeks postpartum, Aemond being protective
Word count: About 1.3k
Synopsis: Your husband defends your honor and protects you from the hateful words of his brother.
Author’s note: This ask is from the summer of last year lmao my bad,,, I've been going through it lately but hopefully this fic was worth the wait and still makes you swoon! Thanks for the love and support! Hopefully this is also the start of me being more involved in writing and the fandom again! This is part three of my first ever Aemond fic!!
Part one - Of Duty and Honor
Part two - Of War and Longing
I do not have a taglist! Instead if you would like to be notified when I post new fics follow my side blog @jo-writes-fanfic and turn your post notifications on!
Aemond Masterlist
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“It certainly appears to be true that childbirth takes away a woman’s beauty,” Aegon practically sneered at you as he looked up and down your body. 
It was merely two weeks after you gave birth to Aemond’s daughter and your emotions were all over the place. 
His words filled you with such anger and self consciousness that your body could not hold in the emotions. 
Most embarrassingly, your eyes filled with tears. You were aghast at your reaction. Though Aegon often frustrated you, you certainly did not care enough about his opinion on your appearance for his words to cut so deep. 
Though if you were honest with yourself, you were already uncomfortable with your appearance today and wished you could have avoided today’s gathering. Though Aemond had assured you that you looked lovely, it was obvious to you, despite your lady’s maid’s best efforts, that you were exhausted. You felt uncomfortable in your own skin, your body went through massive changes and had not had the time and chance to adjust back. 
So there, in front of Aegon and the rest of your in-laws, you began to cry. 
Damn these uncontrollable emotions that came on so strongly after giving birth. 
You wanted to run and hide, and turned to do just that when Aemond walked in the room. 
His brow knitted in concern and his footsteps quickened as soon as he saw you. 
He was at your side and pulled you into his larger frame as he looked down at you. 
“What is wrong?” He asked, his voice tight. His gaze was on you before his eye darted around the room scanning it for danger or anything that could have caused your distraught state. 
You pursed your lips, afraid to speak for fear of more embarrassing tears flowing. 
“Who did this to you?” he asked, his voice dark with the promise of violence.
You really didn’t want to be the cause of another fight between him and his brother. 
“Aegon was being vile,” Heleana spoke up. 
You looked back at her in surprise that she would speak up, stand up for you. 
Aemond looked over your head at his brother and his eye narrowed. 
“What did you say to my wife,” he practically growled. 
Aegon visibly blanched and as quick as that your mood changed. You held back a smile. You were eager to see Aegon finally receive consequences for all the horrible things he’d said to you throughout your pregnancy when Aemond was off winning his war. 
“N-nothing,” he said and you scoffed and rolled your eyes. 
Aemond glanced down at you. He could’ve asked you but it was clear he wanted to make his brother sweat, make him admit to hurting you. 
He glared at Aegon who chose to glare back. 
Alicent let out a long suffering sigh and explained to Aemond what had been said. 
“That’s not the only thing he’s said too, right?” Heleana asked, her voice sweet and innocent. It amused you that she continued to push the issue, trying to get her husband in trouble. 
A horrible thought clanged through you that every vile comment he’d made to you, at least you had Aemond’s protection. Maybe it was worse for her. And maybe getting Aemond to punish Aegon for how he treated you was a safe way for her to get retribution as well. 
So you met her eyes, took a deep breath, set your jaw, and turned back to your husband. You told him every awful thing you could remember that Aegon said to you those eight months that Aemond was gone. 
You ignored Aegon, looking only at your husband as you spoke. 
As you finished, the tension in the room was thick, and it became so quiet, quiet enough that you could hear Aegon take a step back. 
Aemond took a deep calming breath, gently brushed you aside, then lunged towards his brother. 
“Aemond!” Alicent yelled in protest. 
“Aemond,” you murmured, a weak attempt to dissuade him, your heart not truly in it as you protested along with her. 
You took another step back, your body still weak from giving birth, not having any interest in getting involved in a physical fight, and watched as your husband punched his brother in the face to defend your honor. 
He looked like an avenging angel, you thought, as his white hair flew around, his upper lip curled into a snarl, and the look in his eye promised pain. 
You wondered at it, the smooth grace with which he attacked, it caused your heart to pound, and you knew it was not from fear. 
He really only got two good hits in before the King’s Guards intervened and pulled him away. But it was glorious to behold. 
His assault was so quick and vicious, Aegon didn’t even have a chance to fight back. 
Alicent was distraught, but Heleana sidled up beside you and gave you a small smile which you returned. 
The fact of the matter was, you were incredibly turned on. Uncomfortably turned on as you watched Aemond be violent to defend your honor. 
You were ready to drag him to your rooms and make another baby, but then your aching body reminded you that you were in no shape to do any such thing. 
Aemond yanked himself out of the grip of one of the guards and strode to you. 
He tilted your face up with a finger beneath your chin so your gaze would meet his own that was filled with fire. And smirked at the desire in your eyes. 
He pressed a brief but firm kiss to your wanting lips, you heard Aegon yelling something but ignored him completely. 
You slipped your hand into Aemond’s, his knuckles a little bloody, and tugged on him slightly, leading him out and away from the chaos. 
As you exited the room you gripped his tunic, and he backed you against the wall. 
He placed his hands against the wall on either side of your head, caging you in, and with the heat - the fire - between the two of you, there was nothing you could do but rise up on your tiptoes and press your lips to his. 
And these past weeks with your daughter, the nine months before that as you carried her, had been amazing, one of the most joyful experiences of your life. But, you were not only her mother, you were also Aemond’s wife. 
And he reminded you of that, reminded you that you are his wife and he desires you, as he kissed you back, kissed you hard, kissed you in a way that made your toes curl. 
This was not the sweet, short, gentle way he had kissed you since she was born, no. This was your dragon filling you with his fire again. 
His lips moved against yours, opening you up so his tongue could sweep against your own. 
His hand left the wall to grip your waist, and self consciousness at your changed body flared up, but was soon smothered by his desire as he pushed his body closer to yours, pushed you further against the wall, pressed against him completely. 
He groaned into your mouth and you nipped at his bottom lip in response. Finally, your body sang, like you were shaken awake by the heat. 
You whimpered against his lips, and his tongue danced with yours in response. 
Your body throbbed with desire… and then pain that reminded you that although your spirit felt ready to be joined with your husband in carnal desire again, your body certainly was not. 
You pulled back, your breathing hard, and he smiled softly as he beheld you. His hand grazed up from your waist, slowly and gently, until he cupped your cheek. 
“I can’t-“ you tried to explain, but he shook his head, understanding in his gaze.
“I know,” he murmured. 
He kissed you again, this time gentle and slow, filled with care and affection rather than heat and desire. 
He pulled back and rested his forehead against yours. 
“I love you,” you said sweetly. 
He chuckled and said, “I love you too, little wife. Let’s go hold our daughter before that look in your eyes convinces me to fill you with another.” 
You giggled and took his hand and allowed your prince, your defender, your husband to lead you to your daughter. 
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Text
Rediscover your beauty and embrace your postpartum journey with confidence and grace. This video is dedicated to all the new moms navigating the changes in their bodies after childbirth. Learn how to give yourself the love and patience you deserve, celebrating the amazing feat your body has accomplished.
We'll discuss ergonomic and beautiful toys from Adam and Eve that can help you feel wonderful and reconnect with your body in this new chapter. Use the promo code SEXYMAMA at checkout to get 50% off one item, free shipping, and a special gift on purchases over a dollar.
Join us in this empowering discussion about body positivity and self-care post-baby, and discover ways to feel confident and beautiful in your postpartum body. Embrace motherhood with newfound confidence and love for yourself!
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k9iriz · 1 year
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𝐡𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 / • 𝐧𝐞𝐲𝐦𝐚𝐫 𝐣𝐫
𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 ; 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘥𝘢𝘷𝘪 𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘮𝘰𝘮, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘰 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘯𝘦𝘺𝘮𝘢𝘳, 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘧𝘪𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳.
(𝙗𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙛𝙚𝙢!) /𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧.
𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘵𝘷, 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘱𝘥𝘢 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘥𝘢𝘷𝘪 & 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘨𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘤𝘶𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘭𝘰𝘭.
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i hummed quietly as i slightly pulled up my olive colored stringed tube too, examining my now bigger backside through my matching colored leggings, with jewelry to top the outfit off, with a slick back ponytail.
i never felt more beautiful in the world. i mean, after dealing with postpartum depression when i had davi, took a toll on my mental and it effected mostly how i viewed myself, mostly how i looked.
but ney made sure i wasn’t going through it alone. even sitting out for the season for me, which he didn’t have to do, but it was along the lines of “i love you more than ever, why wouldn’t i?”.
best husband i could ever ask for right?
finishing putting on my last anklet, i grabbed me purse, before i opened our shared bedroom door, walking downstairs as i was met with neymar watching tv, just putting down davi for bed.
“tudo bem papi, estou saindo para hoje à noite!” i said, before i bent down to reach my shoes, before being met with my handsome husband, just blatantly staring, like analyzing what i was wearing. ["alright papi, im leaving for tonight!"]
“is it something wrong?” I asked before neymar stood up, walking over to me, his tall figure just standing over me. mnm.
“não... mas sua roupa, é problema meu. você não vai sair com essa roupa meu amor.” neymar shook his head, before slightly leaning against the wall before i kissed my teeth in a attempt to win him over. [“nope...but your outfit, is my problem. your not going out in that outfit my love.”]
“but babyyyyy! i thought this was ‘hubby approved?’” i whined, walking up to him, hoping that he would change his mind on the outfit. i like when he’s like that, possessive, but he wasn’t overly possessive. he just didn’t want anyone to see what was his.
“it is...but i know...you look this good? you might be hiding something under these leggings...your ass is moving way too much princess.” neymar smiled, wrapping his arms around me as he kissed my lips, before burying his face inside of my neck, making me break out in giggles.
“stop-neyyyy! why are you feeling in my pantsss?-” you kept squirming in his arms, before his hands successfully made it to the inside of your tights before he felt around your ass…
he stopped before he felt a thin string run across his hand, standing back, as he felt himmself run hard…just from rubbing against you, he knew you had on a thong, not let alone a g-string.
“princesa, puxe-os para baixo e deixe-me ver o que você está vestindo.” neymar demanded, his demeanor just turning me on in seconds…wet. [“princess, pull them down and let me see what you're wearin’”]
pouting and just irritated in general about the whole ordeal, i whined, him not budging at all. still.
cockblocker.
“what did i say?” his accent was present in his english.
“ugh…fine.” I rolled my eyes, pulling my pants before revealing a black thong, causing him to bite his lip…just examining me and my figure , how natural my curves were and how my body snapped back just easily after birthing davi.
“are you trying to tempt me? by sneaking out in a thong mu amour?” neymar teased slightly, giving me that gaze.
wetted my underwear that fast-
“no…it’s just panties. what’s the big deal?” i sassed, before neymar chuckled, pulling me back swiftly, before his hand was around my throat just like that.
“or should i fix that attitude of yours? you wouldn’t wanna wake up davi would you?” neymar challenged, as my lip was tucked in my bottom teeth, feeling my legs go weak just from him putting me in my place that fast.
before huffing “no papi.” i responded, before he let go, his hands running back down my ass, gripping it in his hands, just caressing it before his lips made it to my ear.
(i have a thing for tatted hands…)
“so be a good girl and change for me. and drop the attitude.” neymar spoke, his breath hitching in my ear as he moved closer, making me whimper, sprinkled with a moan in this midst.
“okay…” i smiled, trailing off before walking back to our shared room, changing my underwear.
a short few minutes later, i walked back downstairs, to be smart, i put on his favorite pink laced panties he bought me for valentines day, standing in front of him.
“better now?” i huffed before standing up. neymar felt a heartbeat down there…the throbbing sensation grew the more he stared…and in his favorite panties? i was bound to be fucked up…
“way much better. covers up nicely.” neymar sarcastically spoke, before you could pull up or grab your leggings from the floor, neymar pulled you by your panties, causing me to fall on him.
“neyyy! i have to go! im gonna be-ouuu shit.” you felt him slap your ass, before softly sucking on your sweet spot, as i caressed his head.
“shhh…eles podem esperar, deixe-me provar baby antes de você sair... foda-se.” neymar muttered across your skin, before slapping your ass again, causing euphoric thoughts to take over as he repeatedly attacked my spot, sucking on it. [“shh, they can wait, let me get a taste baby, before you leave...fuck.”]
i guess im never leaving the house anytime soon…without any more inspections. i don’t mind it tho.
first neymar fic bc im obsessed, give me suggestions!, lemme know how i did loves!
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haechansdoll · 11 months
Text
bound to your love - lhc x reader
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[ PS : I couldn't resist these prince haechan pictures everywhere ]
Pairing :  Prince! Husband! Haechan x f!Princess!reader.
Description : After the birth of your daughter, you feel insecure about your body; however, Haechan shows you that you have nothing to worry about.
Warnings: most softest sex ever yet explicit, mentions of pregnancy, lactaction kink, lactation, married sex.
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Your baby girl, born just five months ago, has already become the most precious treasure to both Haechan and you. You both cherish every moment, watching her grow every day with love-filled eyes. Haechan's devotion goes beyond his protective nature; he is fully committed to you and your child. Together, you navigate the routines, supporting each other through sleepless nights and tender moments. In Haechan's presence, you find solace and reassurance. And beyond the palace, your little one's presence is known and cherished.
From the corridors of the palace to the other end of Seoul, the fame of this tiny baby travels in whispers.
The king has a child, an heir.
And it is you who lit the fuse for the next generation of Lee’s-Kingdom by giving your Kingdom a daughter. A new generation will grow with her, nurturing and strengthening this resilient culture and warrior society.
As you traverse the grand halls and corridors of the palace, every person you encounter bows in awe; their eyes are drawn to the remnants of your once-swollen belly. The physical changes your body has undergone since giving birth are cherished and celebrated in our culture. This culture honors a postpartum body; since it is highly valued in this culture to maintain the bloodline and create clans, ideas like pregnancy and postpartum are embraced by the heart.
Haechan wholeheartedly agrees with this sentiment. As far as the duties of the throne permit, he has always been by your side during your pregnancy, watching your belly grow and providing relief when needed. His strong, gloved hands have supported your back, gently massaging away the discomfort caused by the weight of your growing child. On some nights of need and desire, when you feel needy, soaked, and burning with desire to be filled up, he has been there to bring you to the exquisite climax you crave. Each night, as you drifted off to sleep, he watched over you with a profound sense of gratitude, placing tender kisses on your shoulder.
Just as your pregnancy didn't change the way he felt about you, neither did the birth; it didn't even affect Haechan to wipe the blood from your thighs when you were in labor bed or your saggy belly and leaking breasts, which he feels when he holds you in his arms in the bed you share every night. He remains unfazed by your crying fits, brought on by fluctuating hormones, or the strands of hair that come to his hand while he caresses your hair gently. To him, every part of you is a testament to your incredible strength and resilience.
Whenever he takes you in his strong arms, he tells you that what you have achieved is incredible and that your body should be treated accordingly. His fingertips trace your skin, conveying the awe he feels for you. And while you’re picking out every bit of your new body, Haechan is falling even more in love.
And he doesn't let it remain in words; you can tell he really means it when he gives you sugary ice chips to quell your inner fire when you feel weary after giving birth or when he gently rubs soothing cream on your sore breasts from breastfeeding. He knows that all these changes in your body are because you have raised and nurtured his baby for nine months and finally brought her into the world in good health. He knows that every battle leaves its mark. And for you, it was the journey of pregnancy and birth.
While you struggle to adjust to your new body, Haechan adores and reverse it, seeing your beauty in a whole new light. Your body's transformation has only amplified his love and respect for you.
However, amidst his deep admiration, Haechan finds himself yearning for you. He can see how challenging and exhausting the postpartum period is for you, but he can’t help but imagine holding you in his arms. His desire to intimately explore every inch of your delicate body and to lose himself in the depths of your passion fills his thoughts. With longing and intoxicating passion, he longs to be able to hold his wife, his princess, to touch every part of your body, and to bury his lips in the nook between your neck and shoulder.
The thing he misses the most is having you with a burning and tantalizing desire and hearing you moan his name helplessly as he slowly sinks into you. He wants to see the burning lust in your eyes as your souls become one.
But above all, Haechan seeks a sign from you—a word, a lustful kiss, or even a fleeting innocent blink—to know that you are ready and that the fire within you burns just as fiercely. He understands the time required for you to recover, both physically and emotionally, and he has never pressed you to hurry the process.
After five long months, you finally receive permission from your doctor to use tampons and engage in sexual activities. However, you can’t shake off the feeling of reluctance that has settled within you. You don’t want Haechan to witness the state of your body after all you’ve been through.
But one fateful evening, as you find yourself wrapped in Haechan’s embrace, a shift occurs within you.
On that night, after a refreshing bath, you slip into one of your black nursing nightgowns and absorbent underwear and lie down next to your husband on smooth satin sheets. He is in bed before you, waiting. After concluding his duties in the throne room, he makes his way back to this cherished space, where his heart resides. Both to take care of his little baby and to support his wife.
As weariness envelopes you like a soothing mist, you become aware of Haechan's gaze wandering appreciatively across your body. When you feel the warm blood rushing through your veins to your cheeks, a whirlpool of emotions envelops you. Your heart, heavy with worry, clenches tightly in your chest at the thought of him seeing your exhausted body.
"Are you checking me out?" You ask smoothly. "Of course I am, doll" He grins and turns over on his side in bed to look at you. As you move to get closer to him, Haechan stretches his hands towards you, like an unspoken invitation that you can't resist. You crawl up between his legs, laying close as he pulls you to his chest, feeling the heat of his body radiating through every inch of your being. 
He rubs your back tenderly, and you notice he’s half hard underneath you. As your heart beats wildly, you feel an intense fire stirring deep within you. The mere presence of Haechan evokes a pull that you struggle to resist. Though you sometimes shy away from his advances, the allure of his touch proves irresistible, drawing you closer to his side.
He’s been thinking about your body; you were perfect before, and you’re perfect now after these changes. He purrs, "I’ve missed you," against your neck.
And you know that. You’ve missed him too. The touch of your husband, your Chan, has been a balm to your starved soul. As he holds you close to his chest, your head spins with a mixture of relief and desire. A smile graces your lips, and in a moment of unspoken longing, you lean up to capture his lips in a passionate kiss. You smile, bringing a hand up to brush over his cheekbone. "I’ve missed you too," You whisper back to him. 
Haechan’s hands are careful to help you move your hips as you begin to sit up, straddling his waist. Your arms encircle Haechan's neck,The months of longing and desire buried deep within rise to the surface at this moment. Seated on his sturdy thighs, you surrender to the raw intensity, allowing the connection between you to ignite into a passionate flame.
As you take the lead, his thumb tenderly caresses your plushed lips. Haechan struggles to hold back, the unfamiliarity heightened by the long absence of physical touch. Yet he exercises care, understanding the importance of gentleness, allowing you to dictate the rhythm. And you acknowledge his earnest efforts, deeply grateful for his unwavering commitment.
Your master, husband, Haechan, and most importantly, the daddy of your little baby girl, are all standing in front of you in all of his glory. Your heart swells with love, ignited by a wave of burning desire. 
You give a few slow rocks of your hips against his muscular thighs, and Haechan cocks up an eyebrow. "Are you sure, princess?" He asks quietly. "I-If I - I’ll ask you to stop if- you know - Haechan," You mumble innocently. 
It has been a long time since you felt him deep inside you. The tiniest shred of the dazzling feeling that would push you over the edge is elusive and distant. And the uncertainty of it lingers as your body recovers and continues to do so.
But you still feel it's worth a try, tenderly and lovingly connecting your lips with your husband's. And he kisses you back, matching your pace. Ignoring the wild beating of your heart, you surrender to the enchantment of the moment. Haechan's kiss deepens as his familiar taste finds a place in your mouth. You moan softly into his mouth, and as desire slowly takes over your control, the primal instinct embedded in your core starts to show itself.
To be loved, touched, and fucked; to have your soul filled with him 
His name falls from your slick lips as you try to catch your breath from his exploitative and long kiss. His gentle exhales brush delicately against your face. Leaning your forehead against Haechan's, you giggle and whisper, "We must be quiet,with our little one asleep in the crib." He grins, rubbing his nose against yours. "I'll try my best, princess," he murmurs. 
It’s a new sensation, grinding your hips against him. His firm hands grip your flesh, guiding you with a gentle touch. Dark and intense passion flares in their eyes, locking onto yours with a piercing gaze. His hands glide slowly from your hips to the hem of your silk nightgown. His eyes scan your face as if requesting permission, and you nod slightly. He carefully takes off your nightgown and throws it somewhere in the room. And there you are, sitting in your husband's lap semi-naked, with the stretch marks of pregnancy just beginning to heal on your belly, taut breasts full of milk that has doubled in size, and a soul that loves two people unconditionally—this is you.
Haechan’s sole and his dearest wife.
He kisses your chin as his gloved hands roam over your body, exploring every inch of you over and over again. The warmth of his hands tickles a string somewhere in you as you close your eyes to sink into the moment. "pretty" he whispers, his voice filled with longing, tilting his head as your lips delicately graze his neck. It's a sensation you haven't indulged in for what feels like an eternity. The passage of time blurs, and you struggle to recall exactly how long it has been since you last shared such an intimate moment. A soft sigh escapes your lips as you revel in the tender connection between you both. 
In response to his touch, your body tingles with anticipation as his hands caress and gently squeeze your backside. The sensation sends shivers down your spine, igniting a dormant fire within you. You can't help but gasp softly, the compliment he whispers reaching the depths of your soul.
He mumbles, his voice heavy with desire, as his fingers slip beneath the waistband of your underwear.He guides your hips against him, moving with deliberate slowness as his desire intensifies. Beneath you, he grows harder, his breathing heavy and hard. And he embraces you, and he lays you down gently beneath him, your bare back meeting soft sheets. "This okay?" He asks quietly. 
You nod, relaxing back against the pillows as he sheds the comfy panties you’ve grown so accustomed to living in. He sits back to take a look at you; however, all you can see is his throbbing and angry length, soaked with pre-cum visible through his pants.
"Haechan, please," you say, your voice tinged with vulnerability. "Don't stare," Embarrassment washes over you as you expose a body you're still learning to embrace, a body that hasn't yet become a source of comfort for you.
"I can’t help princess" he whispers as he leans down, leaving a trail of tender kisses from your collarbone down to your tummy. The sensation sends shivers down your spine, and warmth spreads throughout your body. With each kiss, his love becomes palpable, and your heart swells with affection. "You can’t even imagine how beautiful you look right now." His words resonate deeply within you, embracing your insecurities and soothing your doubts. 
He takes off his gloves to feel your warm and delicate skin. You whimper as his powerful and bare hands gently cup your breasts, even before rolling them firmly and kneading them in his hold. His hands discover your sore and full breasts, and the sweet warmth radiating from his touch penetrates your skin. His hands and fingers' warmth leave an ethereal mark of adoration on your skin. He tightly grasps your breasts as the warm milk drips from your skin onto his hands. Seeing you full and nourished like this drives him crazy; it reminds him to whom you belong, whose child you gave birth to.   
Then he begins meanderingly kissing your chin and neck, nibbling and licking tender flesh as he does so. Before he even places his mouth on your tits, the feelings cause you to whine and wriggle.
And when his warm and slick lips find one of your nipples, you cry out; the bittersweet aching of your breasts and pleasure become too much to handle. He teases you in a smooth rhythm; however, you jolt with a burst of pleasure suddenly when he sucks your nipple, filling his mouth with your milk. His name falls from your mouth in broken syllables.
''My doll,'' he says against your tender skin, ''You taste so sweet''.  
He has done it to you before, and he knows that it drives you fucking crazy. The spark of pleasure ignites inside you as his wicked tongue teases your nipple in his mouth.
''Ohfuck, Haechan, no-" you gasp, "Please-''' 
''That’s it, sweet girl. Surrender to it,'' he says as he works on you. He devours you with a hunger that you’ve never seen before. This man, your beloved, loves you more than anything in this damned universe, and when it comes to your sweet body, he loses control; the desire takes the lead. He mumbles sweet words to your skin as he explores you; he just can’t get enough of you. 
Slowly, he traces down from your breasts to your tummy, where he gives smooth kisses. "You are too pretty” he says as he keeps leaving kisses on your tummy. "You grew our little warrior here. I can hardly believe it sometimes." He raises his head to look into your eyes and continues, "I am so proud of you". 
As emotions overwhelm you, your heart brimming with affection, you can't hold back the words any longer.
"I love you," you whisper softly, your voice filled with sincerity. His gaze meets yours, a reflection of the love and desire shared between you. He replies, "I love you more than any word can say" as he finds his way from your tummy to your cunt. 
His hands dance smoothly on your thighs, then his hands move to your knees to press you open. He mumbles as he pushes your legs apart. His eyes scan over all of you with gratitude and lust.
"Oh, look at you," he whispers. ''Look how beautiful you are." 
And he dips his head into between your legs, your cunt. He gives kisses over you, not even caring if there is any blood left. He wants you to enjoy this. To be loosened up and ready for him. To take your time. As his mouth lingers on your cunt, his firm hands caress your plushed thighs, enjoying your tender skin.
Your fingers find his silky-smooth curls, holding him steady where he lingers, when the desire that has been buried somewhere in you for months is finally beginning to show itself. And when he finally locks his warm mouth on your clit, you moan out loud.
''Fuckingstars—fuck, Haechan!'' a broken sentence frees from your mouth as you arch your back uncontrollably. 
From the moment Haechan's touch ignited a fiery passion within you, every sensation became an electric current coursing through your veins. As his tongue skillfully strokes your sensitive clit, you see the damned stars with every lick he gives you. And you can’t think of the rest of your retort when his long fingers find their way to your entrance. He pushes his fingers carefully into your cunt, working the digit slowly until he feels that sweet gush around him.
You bite your lip helplessly to stop the wrecked moans rising from your throat. Haechan's eyes find yours to give courage. ''No, my flower," he says as he picks up the pace of his merciless fingers, making you whimper more. ''Don't hold it back; I want to hear you''. His words boil the blood in your veins and make your head whirl. And you let it go; his name arouses from your throat and spills from your lips helplessly. 
You can't believe how fast your body lights up to Haechan; he made you shiver and squirm in no time, and you could only sing his name like a hymn.
He listens intently, his senses attuned to the subtle gasps escaping your lips, evidence of the pleasure coursing through your body. As he watches your trembling thighs, he is captivated by the beauty of your helplessness. He pulls himself away, his gaze locked with yours, radiating desire and anticipation.
He slowly crawls back to hold himself above you. His brown eyes, filled with love, meet yours in an intimate gaze. A gentle hand caresses your cheek as he tenderly presses a kiss to your forehead, expressing his gratitude and endless love. "Do you want your hips propped up?" He asks quietly, not even giving you a chance to respond before he’s propping a pillow under them.
You bite your lip as your heart beats wildly in your chest; everything feels so much more intense. A wave of wetness pooling between your legs, awakening parts of your body that have been dormant for what feels like an eternity. Your clit throbs with a mixture of pleasure and delicious pain, the culmination of a deeply primal longing. Haechan understands how to love and seduce you, unlocking the secret desires and pleasure points that lay hidden within. With each caress and kiss, he unravels your inhibitions, setting free a torrent of passion that had been dormant for far too long.
He positions himself between your legs and frees his thick length from his pants. You grin shyly at his glorious sight as his hand finds your waist to hold you. His other hand guides the head of his cock through your soaking folds. "Tell me to stop if you need me to," he whispers. "If it gets too much,". You nod and close your eyes since the throbbing between your legs becomes too much. Rocking a few times to gather more of your slick along his searing cock, and a keening, frantic, sound frees from your lips as he finally starts to push in. Your eyes begin to water as he finally sinks into you, filling you.
"Pretty?'' he asks, ''Are you okay? Does it hurt? We can stop." He whispers anxiously, scanning your face. You shake your head. "I’m fine, Haechan," you breathe. "Just...keep going." And he continues slowly. You jolt with a mixture of pain and pleasure every thrust he gives, your hands brushing over his sturdy shoulders and pulling him close. He takes his time with you, giving you gentle thrusts to get you used to his cock. He wants you to enjoy this because he knows your soul needs this arousal after five tough months. You feel so full of him when he thrusts into you so fucking slowly. 
His hips move with tantalizing slowness, teetering on the edge of locking up. Each push inward is accompanied by a strained moan that caresses your ear; his hot breath tickles your neck. The initial burn of the stretch gradually evolves into an intense and passionate fire. And you can feel your orgasm gathering somewhere inside you; you don't know where, but it flashes with every stroke Haechan gives you. His languid pace becomes unbearable; you yearn for his rapid, fulfilling thrusts, craving the culmination as your breaths intertwine.
"Harder," you say between your muffled moans. 
Your words lower his guard, and the suppressed instinct within him takes over. "Oh,Darling" he whimpers as he holds you tighter. And that's the permission he needs to thrust into you harder. 
Reminding you how much he fucking adores you. How beautiful you are. How much he appreciates you. For being his sweet beloved wife, the other half of his existence, the perfect mother to his baby girl, and the sun around whom his entire universe revolves.
And he picks up his pace, starts to fuck you hard. His hips slam into yours, and it feels as if the head of his thick cock is touching up against something very significant inside you.
As his thrusts get harder and deeper, you whisper incoherent words since you can't function anymore. You yearn to be touched, to be filled, as your orgasm starts to crawl in your walls. But your brain, numb with pleasure, doesn't let you speak out the words; all you can do is moan your husband's name helplessly and breathlessly.
 ''Haechan- '' you sob, half-broken, half-dragged through. ''Haechan, touc- fuck!'' 
He gets the hint, and one of his hands goes from your sweaty waist to the throbbing little nerve bundle; gently, he rubs it as you writhe under him, crushing under the overwhelming pleasure.
 ''I adore you,'' he whispers into your neck as he thrusts you deeper, working you open around him. ''I adore you, my pretty girl,'' ''My gorgeous wife.'' Every word that comes out of his pretty mouth burns through you, and he throws you over the goddamn edge. 
Finally, you cum on his cock; the flashing lights begin to dance in your vision, and your walls clench around him, pulsing and hot; it feels as if you shattered and melted all at once. Haechan keeps reciting your name in broken gasps and rocking hard into you as your peak just continues rising somewhere you can’t even fathom. You’re digging your fingernails into his sturdy shoulders, gasping as you hold him close. And he’s driving himself closer and closer and closer to the same peak you’re falling from. Your veins surge with a white-hot heat, tingling from head to toe, as if countless needles gently pierce your skin, leaving you numb.
His hips stutter several more hard thrusts into your cunt, and then he reaches the climax that he has been chasing as well. He moans your name in broken syllables as he pulls himself from your cunt to release his seed onto your pretty thighs. His hips jolt and his shoulders rock hard as he releases himself on you.
As he tries to catch his breath after his devastating climax, he apologizes. "I’m sorry, doll" he mutters amongst his breaths. "You haven’t started your birth control yet." 
--
Months later, the feeling of embracing your husband, the closeness that comes from your soul becoming one, makes you dizzy; you realize how much you miss that feeling. To fall apart in your husband's arms, to hold him between your bloody knuckles. Satiation and exhaustion wash over you like waves of contentment. Before you surrender to the sweet embrace of sleep, you feel Haechan's warm hands on your thighs. With the last crumbs of his strength, he gently wipes away the remnants of him with a wet towel on your thighs. Then he delicately slides one of the sleep shirts over your head and tucks you under the satin sheets. He lays down his body next to yours, his arm pulling you closer to his own body, softly murmuring your name as you succumb to sleep.
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