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ciaraswritings · 1 year

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Unexpected.

Disclaimer: I do not own DC or their characters, or their settings. This is certainly not canon.

Warnings & Topics: Suggestive themes, emotional distress, physical exhaustion, pregnancy. 18+.

Word Count: 3.9K words

Summary: Batmom! reader finds out she is pregnant a short time after marrying Bruce Wayne, not in the most pleasant of ways. Telling him won't be easy, but Alfred gives her some encouragement.

Author's note: After four hours of work, I deem my first fanfiction suitable for posting. Thank you for all the support. I hope you enjoy.

It'd been two months since that beautiful, blissful, romantic day. Actually, two months, two weeks, and one day. But who was counting, right?

The newspapers were. Headlines of gossip news, huge block letters in bold, depicted that I had been spotted at the gym alone again, also describing their support for my "weight loss journey" since I had been "losing my figure". I had been reading this article over and over for about an hour. Damn. I inspected the black and white photo of myself in leggings and a tank top. The worst part about, well, everything, is that they were right. I was losing my figure, noticeably.

I didn't even notice Alfred behind me until he spoke. "No matter how many times you read them, the words are not going to change, ma'am."

I jumped slightly. I hadn't been sleeping or eating well at all, my back and chest ached too much to relax, and heartburn hit me like a batarang after meals. I think I had gotten thirty hours of sleep in the last week, and maybe one meal a day. "Thank you, Alfred. Do you know when dinner will be ready?"

"In a half hour, ma'am." The butler moved to the other end of the kitchen table to face me. "Those words in the paper are words that all who love you disagree with."

Alfred's words touched me if only a little, and I set down the paper. "Thank you, I think I'm going to take a walk."

He looked concerned, but just for a moment. "Alright, ma'am. Try not to be late, the chicken may be devoured."

Chuckling, I stepped out into the early evening light. I would not be late for dinner, living with five hungry men teaches you a lot. The sunlight embraced me, bathing me in its gentle rays, glimmering over my face. I felt positively glorious. Closing my eyes, I soaked it in. My husband would soon be home to kiss me and keep an arm around my waist. The simple thought of his touch made my mouth stretch into a smile. Five more minutes, and I'll go in.

Five minutes turned into twenty. Being amongst the blooming flowers and the busy insects kept me occupied. Not only that, but a sudden headache had overtaken me. I sat in the grass, unladylike, watching the bees collect their last supply of nectar from the flowers for the day. Grass stains never bothered me anyway. I knew time was getting away from me, but I couldn't seem to bring myself to focus on anything. I didn't want to go inside because I didn't want bedtime to arrive. It was too painful to even think about. My head and back reminded me of that even now.

My vision blurred slightly, I could only focus on a single flower on the bushes before me, bees continuing to fly around it. This was nice. I couldn't focus on a single thing, or think about anything, or worry.

I felt myself fall, sort of, to the ground. Fall was the best word I know to describe it. I was already sitting on the ground, but my muscles suddenly felt like pudding. My head bumped to the grass and laid to rest. Terror gripped my heart and throat for a single second before everything just... relaxed. My vision went next, but I was okay with that. This was so relaxing. I wanted to stay.

...

"Madam. Madam (Y/N)!" The voice came from... maybe a mile away. Maybe. Maybe ten miles. Maybe a hundred.

"(Y/N), madam (Y/N)!" Something cold was on my face. Ugh. I don't like that. The wind bit and stung at where the cold wetness was on my cheek. Ouch.

"Wake up, madam!" No. I don't want to. Go away. But the voice sounds scared.

I slowly, slowly, with great effort, opened my eyes. Instantly they closed again. My friend the butler was hovering over me. What was his name again?

"Mom!" New voice. Go the hell away. I open my eyes again.

"I'm here, I'm fine." Sitting up took much more strength than opening my eyes, but I managed to do so. Dick and Alfred worriedly stare at me. "I was just taking a nap."

"That wasn't a nap, it looked like you passed out." Dick was the one with the cold wet cloth. He put it to my head again. I gave him a withering glare, and he pulled it away again, looking apologetic.

"It was a nap, of course I didn't pass out. Now let me return to it," I waved my hand in no particular direction, trying to shoo them away like mice.

"I am afraid I cannot allow you to sleep on the cold ground in nothing but your loungewear, ma'am." Alfred took the cloth from Dick and put it to my forehead.

Lord, they were being so annoying, I just wanted to go back to sleep. My eyelids drooped and my words slurred. "Bed hurts too much right now... just come back later..." my head finally dropped forward as vision began to diminish again.

I couldn't really tell what they said next. What I could remember was, "Inside now... call the... when they can see her..." and "...got her... go and tell him... I've got it..."

The sensation of being lifted did not startle my dozing. Neither did the shouting, nor the feeling of hands on my face. I had earned this sleep, and I was going to... enjoy... it...

...

I was awake, but I didn't want to open my eyes. It wasn't time. Please don't let it be time. I peeked a glance at my watch. Eight in the morning on a Sunday? Yeah, back to sleep we go.

Before I could return to my dreamless sleep, I became aware of unidentified breathing beside me. Was that Titus? Or maybe Alfred. Maybe I had been kidnapped. Did I care? Hell to the no. All I cared about at this present moment was slumber. If I was kidnapped, I could sleep all I wanted while I waited for them to rescue me.

Then, like a train, uninvited and on its own, the back pain hit my lower body. I couldn't help the moan of discomfort that tore from my throat.

Instantly, a hand went to my forehead. It felt so cold against my warm head. I'd better see who this person with the cold hands is and tell them to go stick their fingers in a campfire before touching me again.

When I opened my eyes, I realized I wasn't even in the garden anymore. Alfred, I told you I wanted to stay on the ground. But it wasn't Alfred who had put freezing digits on my forehead. It was my husband, my dearest Bruce, my wonderful partner in... crime didn't seem like a good choice of words. His worried blue eyes bored into my sleep-deprived (Y/C) eyes. Ouch, that gaze made my headache come back.

"Hello. Go warm your hands up," I told the love of my life before closing my eyes again. The light from the window seemed to be penetrating my very brain.

"My hands are warm," replied the bearer of freezing fingers.

"Please, feels like your hands went to the Artic circle for winter vacation." My stubborn retort took a lot out of me, but I could practically hear his small smile.

"There's my girl," he murmured. I opened my eyes again to smile at my wonderful... freezing... man.

"Yeahhh, your girl's going back to dreamland. Night night." I grunted at the pain stabbing me in the back, the throbbing in my head, and the emptiness in my stomach.

"Not yet, sweetheart. Stay right here. The doctor's going to be here at ten, you should freshen up a bit."

I opened one eye to glare unhappily at him. "Don't need a doctor. Need a nap."

His chuckle annoyed me to the very core, almost scaring away the shooting pains in my back. "I'm sorry, but this needs to happen. Do you know how worried we all were when we heard you had fainted in the garden? The boys hardly wanted to go on patrol, they wanted to look after you."

"The boys didn't want to go on patrol? You didn't want to look after me?" I glared playfully at my handsome knight. "And I didn't faint... just took a nap."

"On the cold hard ground?" His questioning gaze made me open both my eyes.

"Yes, it felt nice on my back."

"Does your back still hurt, sweetheart?"

"Yes, it still hurts."

"And you didn't feel like sleeping in the bed?"

"The hell is this, an interrogation?"

"Maybe," he grinned.

"Go away," I retorted, closing my eyes. "I have to go to work, no time for doctors."

"I called and told them you can't come in this week."

"This... this is why I married you."

It didn't take long to fall back into blissful, painless paradise. Bruce left me alone, but I knew he was close by, watching over me. The mansion was so quiet and peaceful, I knew the boys were fast asleep.

Much too soon, I was being kissed awake.

"Darling, Doctor Thompkin's here. It's time to wake up." Bruce's forehead kisses were, for the very first time in our relationship, annoying.

"Ugh." I rolled over to escape, my back cracking.

"Upsy daisy." He stroked my back, gently massaging my painfully aching muscles.

Sitting up took all the strength I had, and yet I had to find more to answer the questionnaire the doctor was springing upon me. Bruce stepped out mid-examination to answer a phone call, leaving the woman to observe my body and take into consideration my answers to her questions. Her questions seemed endless. "Have you been out of the country in the last month?"

"No."

"Have you been feeling depressed or hopeless?"

"No."

"Are you on any medications?"

"No."

"Do you or any family members have history of scoliosis?"

"No."

"History of heartburn?"

"No."

"When was your last menstrual cycle?"

"It's marked on the calendar, couple pages back."

"Do you know what year it is?"

I gave her a funny look. "Of course I do, what's wrong with you?" Now I feel bad for saying that, but I certainly didn't in the moment.

The doctor chuckled, her friendly eyes had laughter lines around them. "Just wanted to make sure you're still with me. Are you on birth control?"

"Yes."

"How long have you been on birth control?"

"Couple months. I went on it during our honeymoon."

"During?"

"Yes, we realized condoms and plan B weren't as convenient as the pill."

"I'm going to need a blood sample and then we're done here. I'll be in touch with the results. You don't seem to be suffering from scoliosis, but I'll contact you about x-rays to confirm. I haven't made a house call in a long time, or practiced family medicine, but I'll do everything I can to make sure we get to the root of this."

"Okay."

The blood draw seemed to take longer than I remembered blood draws taking. The prick of the needle didn't disturb the haze of sleepiness that still surrounded me. The woman's departure signaled another wave of sleepiness to wash over me. Bruce and Alfred were showing the doctor out as my head hit the pillow. Pain shot up my back, but sleep had already captured me.

Tomorrow turned into today, and then today became yesterday. It felt like I slept the whole Monday, skipping work and family dinner. Tuesday morning came with sunshine and kisses from my darling husband as I slowly opened my eyes.

"Hi," I smiled at him. One of Bruce's arms was holding me almost loosely as he lay next to me in the white sheets. He looked worn and tired from a long night of patrol. I sniffed him. Good, he had showered.

"Hello." His tired kiss on my lips was slowly waking me. "I love you."

"I love you too," I told him. My smile was getting bigger and my world was waking up. I traced the shape of his exhausted eyes. "Close your eyes. Sleep."

"Mmph." His eyes closed and his body relaxed under my touch. Normally, Bruce was the one to hold me tight and kiss me to sleep, to caress my body and keep me safe. Looking over his body, I realized that he had been through a difficult night of patrol. A stitched gash across his back, an unhappy bruise on his jaw, scratches on his forearms. Worrying about my "condition" probably hadn't helped him stay alert out there in the dangerous night of Gotham. Guilt washed over me. My arms protectively wrapped around my dearest husband, my lips pressing to his forehead. Today, I was going to keep him safe, I was going to comfort him through his slumber.

...

Bruce's snoring wasn't exactly a lullaby, so I was up and about after a few hours. The boys were crashed in their rooms and Alfred was busy baking something that smelled like chocolatey deliciousness. I was looking over the morning paper, again, skimming for any mention of my family or I. Unhealthy habit, you could say. I was curled up in an armchair next to the bed, keeping the rustling of the newspaper pages to a minimum.

Vibrations of Bruce's cell phone made me look up. As silently as I could, I leaped up and grabbed the phone from the bedside table on Bruce's side. My husband's sleep was important to me, and if I had it my way, nothing at all would disturb it, not even nightmares.

I carried the cell phone out of the bedroom and glanced at the caller ID. Doctor Thompkins. Results. Yes. This wasn't the first time I had answered my husband's phone, so I wasn't going to feel guilt over finding out my own test results. "Hello?"

"(Y/N), hello. I'm calling with your results."

"Tim's been telling everyone in the family it's yellow fever, please prove him wrong."

"Hah, no, it is not yellow fever... I'd say it's something a little more... serious."

I stiffened. My aching back didn't like that. "What's up?"

"We spoke about your history with birth control, but we need to talk about it again. It would seem that there was some window of time where you and Bruce were not using protection."

My backache must've hit my brain, because looking back, I can't believe I didn't catch on. "Bruce gave me a disease?"

"Not a disease. You're pregnant, (Y/N). I can't make an estimate on how many weeks you are, but I'm going to give you the contact information for an OBGYN. Make an appointment as soon as you can. Congratulations, Mrs. Wayne."

...

When Bruce woke up, I had to apologize to him for his cracked cell phone screen. I told him the truth, that I'd dropped it, but I didn't explain that it was from shock. He told me it was alright, that he'd pick up a new one, but he wasn't quite sure why I looked so very upset over dropping his phone. That would explain itself in time.

I didn't eat a thing at dinner that night, despite my full plate and coaxing from my family. Even the finest cut of steak is unappealing when something like that is on one's mind.

Who wouldn't overthink a thing like this? Pregnant, after a literal two months of marriage? Pregnant, while caring for four boys that you saw as your sons? Pregnant, after your husband had told you he didn't want anymore children? Pregnant, after you had both tried to be careful? Pregnant, to one of the greatest vigilantes and most successful businessmen in the world? Pregnant. I am pregnant. I might have my husband's baby.

"Mom!"

My head jerked up and I was greeted by five concerned faces.

"Ma, you look like you're in another world," Jason forked a piece of potato.

"Maybe I am in another world, Jay-Jay." I smiled slightly before standing. Ten eyes observed my every move.

"Ummi, where are you going?" Damian, the one who I expected would be the least concerned, watched me with huge, worried eyes.

"I think I need to sleep more. I will see you all tomorrow morning." I kissed every head at the table, my lips lingering on my husband's forehead. He rested his hand on the back of my neck, pulling me down for a gentle kiss. I think he noticed my hesitance, but I didn't stop to think about it or explain. My back only permitted me to walk up the stairs, but if I could've run, I would've.

Once Bruce and the boys had left for their night of patrol, I breathed again. Laying on the bed, clutching my pillow to my chest, trying to rehearse how I would address the situation to Bruce, it took a lot out of me. "Bruce, I need to tell you something," I mumbled. "No... Bruce, we need to talk."

"Madam, I am not sure if you have noticed, but Master Bruce is not here." Alfred's voice startled me for the second time this week.

"I wish he was. I'm sorry, I'm... practicing." I tried to give my friend a reassuring smile but it came out as a grimace.

"Good luck, madam," Alfred set down a cup of tea on my bedside table and gave me a genuine Alfred smile. Before he was out of the room, he turned back and looked me dead in the eye. "Master Bruce loves you very much, Madam (Y/N). He would not have married you if he was not ready to take on the unexpected. He will not turn you away when you tell him, so try not to overthink."

I looked straight back into this wonderful gentleman's eyes. "Thank you."

...

I tried to sleep through the night, I really did. When dawn and my boys arrived, I was still wide awake, not having slept a wink. I trotted down the stairs to the batcave, taking extra care not to trip. Once on the floor, we went through our post-patrol routine of inspecting each one of my boys. First Damian, who shrugged me off several times before allowing me to look over him, then Tim, who accepted my worrying for what it was, then Jason, who pretended to be annoyed for show, then Dick, who looked over me as carefully as I looked over him, then finally Bruce, who would not stop kissing me, barely giving me a chance to check him for injuries.

No one was truly hurt, but all but one were tired as they pulled off their suits. The boys trudged upstairs to their rooms, but my husband carried me valiantly up the stairs to our place in the master bedroom, like a knight carrying his princess.

Once the bedroom door was shut and he had set me down, I was instantly on my back laying on the bed, Bruce's lips showing affection to my neck and collarbone. A soft, throaty moan left my mouth as my husband kissed me, his hands working their way over my body. I was clothed in my favorite outfit of a tank top and leggings, and I knew they were at risk of being torn from my torso and limbs if I allowed this to continue. Besides... I had to tell Bruce.

"Darling..." the word I said was half-moaned. "Darling, please, you need to shower."

"I thought you liked my scent?" Bruce chuckled, looking up at me, his hands working their way up my shirt.

"Mmm, I do, but you are going to dirty our sheets that Alfred worked so hard to wash."

"You have a valid point, but I don't like it." Bruce grinned and pulled off the little clothing he wore. I chuckled and rolled my eyes, watching him make his way to the shower. If I hadn't had such a burden on my mind, I would've joined him. I could hear him muttering insults at the slippery bar of soap that his large fingers always seemed to have trouble grasping, and it made me smile. My hand absentmindedly rested on my stomach and I wondered if his child would have the same troubles as their father.

Bruce's shower was shorter than usual. Much shorter than if I had been in there with him. Chuckling, I made room for my knight in the bed. He hadn't bothered to put on clothes, or dry his hair. Bruce climbed on top of me, drops of water falling from his hair to my chest. His lips reattached to mine, devouring the kiss like a wild man. I knew what he had on his mind from the way he caressed my body, and I had to put a stop to it.

"Bruce... Bruce, wait."

Concerned eyes met mine. "(Y/N)?"

Alfred's words replayed in my mind. He would not have married you if he was not ready to take on the unexpected. I stared into the beautiful blue eyes I had grown to take comfort in. "Bruce, Doctor Thompkins diagnosed me."

Instantly, his desire was forgotten. Bruce sat back on the bed and pulled me onto his lap. "Tell me, darling, what is it?"

His arms made me feel so safe. He will not turn you away when you tell him, so try not to overthink. "I... you need to expect the unexpected."

"So I'm guessing it's not yellow fever, since that's what Tim expects," Bruce smiled. The gentle attempt at humor didn't lift the worry in his eyes.

"Heh, no... not exactly. It's... it's a baby." The last three words were much quieter than the others.

Bruce looked at me quizzically. "I don't think I heard you correctly."

"A baby," I honestly voiced my diagnosis, somewhat fearfully looking into his eyes. "I'm pregnant."

Bruce's glare pierced mine. He gently slid me off his lap and set me on the bed before standing and walking to the window to silently stare out of it. His breathing had changed, his body was stiff, everything about him seemed cold and hardened.

My worst fears bit and tore at my heart, anxiety gripping my throat like a murderer. Oh Lord, he doesn't want me anymore. I didn't know whether to go to him, or leave the mansion, or stay in the bed, or cry, or speak. So I just waited, for a full two minutes, staring at my husband's scarred back. After waiting that long, tears began to prick at my eyes. I finally laid down and curled into the cold sheets. "I'm sorry."

I heard him turn. "What are you sorry for?"

"Not paying attention to my birth control. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," my tears left wet spots on the pillowcase. I closed my eyes tightly.

Then I felt his weight on his side of the bed, he was laying beside me. Bruce collected me into his arms, tilting my chin up, asking me silently to look at him. I opened my wet eyes.

"I'm not angry with you. I'm thinking about it. Just let me think." Bruce's rough, calloused fingers brushed against my peach soft cheek.

"Okay." I closed my eyes to fight back angry, hot tears. He pulled me to his chest, holding me to himself. I could practically hear the wheels turning in his head.

He must've held me like that for an hour before he finally, finally spoke. "Well, this isn't what I thought two months into our marriage would look like."

My tears had left stains on his chest. Only a surge of bravery made me look up at him. "Yeah."

He looked down at me, smiled, kissed my lips, and I felt my husband's love course through my body. He may have turned me away physically, but he had never turned me away emotionally. I sat up on his lap, straddling him, my forehead resting on his, my hands on his cheeks. "I love you."

"And I love you," Bruce's fingers brushed against my waist. He seemed hesitant, and his eyes met mine. "May I?"

I was confused for a moment, but then I realized and nodded, beaming. "Yes."

His large hand rested on my stomach. The wheels in his head were still turning, but they had calmed, and they were only turning in the name of love.

"Expect the unexpected."

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somik-severinka · 1 year

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Smoothie Bowls and Chia Puddings

Information:

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Smoothie Bowls

Chia Puddings

DOWNLOAD ON PATREON

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Early Access "Gourmet" and "Restaurateur" May 4

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fatphobiabusters · 2 months

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yall are weird as hell for making weight loss seem impossible to people dying from obesity when thermodynamics says otherwise. energy cannot be created from nowhere. if you are eating less energy than your body needs to move and function, and you are still living, then your body needs to get the energy from somewhere. and guess what the whole purpose for fat is! before you promote laziness and giving up, go back to biology class bae xx

I'm about to fall asleep after a long day of driving. 6+ hours on the road with my German friend who's an international student at my university. We stopped at a fun restaurant in the middle of no where and she got to try gator tail for the first time. We felt the humid sea breeze of the ocean as we laughed and talked over our lunch.

We drove through Tampa and walked along the water at night.

I taught her about American road trip games like "I spy." She laughed until she had tears in her eyes at my pretend southern accent. We ate ice cream and saw such cute candies as we explored.

She celebrated my birthday with me and even made me a reese's peanut butter cake for my birthday! The vanilla pudding she used for the filling and icing was delicious.

Tomorrow we're going to a nice restaurant with my dad to celebrate my birthday. I'll be showing her my hometown, we'll take pictures at the beach in pretty dresses, and she's excited to visit an Italian market that has the type of bread she loves yet can't get at grocery stores here.

We talked about our childhoods and families, ate pasta for dinner at midnight because we didn't get to where we're staying until 11 PM, and we had an amazing day sharing our cultures with each other.

I happened to look on Tumblr before falling asleep after such a fun day and saw this ask. I looked at your profile too.

And all I can think as I lay here excited about the fun day I have planned tomorrow with my friend is that I hope you get a better hobby than trying to harass and oppress a marginalized group on a dying website with your sad blog you use to hurt both yourself and the people around you.

I actually have a life outside of social media, and I hope you get one too.

-Mod Worthy

#fatphobia #o word #fatphobes #fat liberation #fat positivity #Mod Worthy

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peachesofteal · 1 year

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Sugar

Quickest little fic for V-day. Same pairing as Cupcakes and Banana Pudding. References events from Tin Coffee.

Joel Miller/female reader Part of the Sweet series - 1.1k words - AO3 Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, Joel is bad at feelings, little bit of jealousy, brief mentions of violence, explicit sex, oral sex - female receiving, praise kink, creampie, come eating. Joel doesn't love you.

Joel Miller does not love you. He doesn’t love the way your voice sounds when you laugh, doesn’t love how your eyes squint in the early hours of the morning, when you’re still waking up. He doesn’t love the little sounds you make when he pulls your body beneath his in bed, doesn’t love watching you work, fingers flying over small pieces of metal and scraps to fix machines big and small. He doesn’t care that he sleeps soundly when you’re curled up against him, doesn’t care that he watches the road in the afternoons, eyes tracking every single one of your steps when you get back from your usual scavenging runs. He doesn’t love how you say his name, doesn’t love the way your smile lights your face when you beat him in ratscrew, doesn’t care that you go out of your way to pick through junk, looking for items specifically for him.

Joel Miller does not love you. Love only leads to loss.

Because he doesn’t love you, Joel didn’t feel scared when he looked across the meadow that day and saw you struggling beneath a Runner. He didn’t feel sick as he watched you fight, your head shaking frantically away from its teeth. He didn’t feel panicked as he ran, and his fingers were not unsteady while he tried to reload his gun. He didn’t feel worried afterwards either, when he held your face in his hands and you stared up at him, confused and mumbling nonsense. Or when you passed out, the dead weight of your body in his arms uncomfortable and wrong on the walk back to camp. Joel certainly did not yell at a five-year-old kid for putting your life in danger. He did not get down on eye level with the kid and sternly tell him he needs to be more careful.

“You gotta help take care of her, Grey. You have to be smart. No runnin’ off, or she’ll just come after ya. You hear me?” The kid had nodded, fat tears rolling down his cheeks, terror still all over his face. Joel definitely did not reluctantly let him crawl onto the bed next to you, his little hand clutching yours, whispering in your ear even though you were still unconscious. Joel didn’t feel relieved when you finally woke up, and he didn’t feel angry with you either, for almost getting bit. He definitely did not soften immediately when you held your thumb to his pulse, right beneath the watchband, the roaring of the blood in his ears quieting enough that he could turn and press his mouth to yours.

Joel does not care that you don’t like the new woman in camp, Kate, or Katie, or whatever. He does not care that you watch her like a hawk when she reaches out to affectionately punch him in the bicep. He does not care that you turned your chin over your shoulder, trying to make it look like you were watching something off in the distance, when he knew you were studying him in your peripheral. It didn’t make him feel good, didn’t make him feel wanted. He does not care that you seemed to be jealous.

Because he doesn’t care, he doesn’t feel the need to reassure you, but he rolled you onto your stomach that night anyway, pulling one of your knees out to the side so you were open for him, the soft of your ass pressing into his pelvis. He couldn’t stop running his hands over you, kneading into your skin, leaning over you, pressing his lips to your spine, your shoulder, your ear. He teased shudders from your body and soft moans from your lips until you were ready, your hips lifting to push against his swollen cock.

“Joel.” You had murmured into the pillow, hand stretching backwards. He kissed your palm before putting it back down by your side, and then you gasped when he slid two fingers into where you were already wet for him.

“Hold still baby.” He’d said as he stretched you, swirling the pads of his fingers up to your clit, making your hips jump with each touch. He gripped your hip in his other hand, holding you firm until you stopped moving. “That’s it.” He didn’t care that his body burned for you, the need he felt whenever he saw you aching in his bones, sizzling under his skin until he had you naked beneath him, taking his cock, crying out his name. You hissed when he thrusted deep, mumbling something about slow, easy. “I’ve got you sweetheart.” He murmured into your hair, patting your ass affectionately while he speared you open, grinding against you until you were making soft mewling sounds against the pillow. “You’re doing so good.” You’re too good, too sweet, like the soft spun sugar, and he doesn’t think about how much he loves it.

“Joel. Fuck.” You choked as he moved inside of you, arm supporting his weight just next to your head so he could watch your face, drag his lips over the curve of your cheek and kiss you when you milked his cock with your orgasm. Your legs tried to snap closed around him, banding around his knees and thighs until his hips were stuttering and he was coming, the stubble of his jaw scratching into your shoulder.

He had turned you on your back afterwards, tracing his nose through your soft, damp curls, a hand pressed firmly on your belly to keep you still. He worked his tongue against your clit in short strokes, and you were still so wet, his come and yours easing the entrance of his fingers, your back bowing against the mattress when he stroked up against your walls, touching on the spot that made your legs shake. Soft, desperate sounds escaped from your mouth when he pushed you over the edge, and he replaced his fingers with his tongue, savoring the taste of bitter earth and salt, the taste of him inside of you, until you were squirming and gasping for air.

Joel Miller does not love you. He didn’t stay awake that night, face turned towards yours, thumb tracing the scar on your chin with the lightest touch he can manage. He didn’t think about his dreams, his fantasies, or this reality that was turning into both. He didn’t care to understand it, didn’t want to know how it happened, how he got you, got the real cupcakes, got you in his arms almost every night. He didn’t think about any of it, because he does not love you.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #peaches writes #female reader #the last of us hbo #joel miller x female reader #joel miller tlou #the last of us #pedro pascal fanfiction

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rainyfestivalsweets · 11 months

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5/20/23 last weight 226

I am still weighing my lowest in 13 years.

I have hit this number 4 times now. Once in 2010. 3 times this year.

Today I am grateful for....my coach and accountability.

It is helping me make better choices.

One of the things we have been working on it better sleep.

I went to bed at 10 pm. I was exhausted. Why stay up? I turned off the episode I was trying to get thru and went to bed.

Forgot I had to make my bed.

But still...was in bed by like 10:10.

Woke up today without an alarm.

Well rested.

Did some cooking magic. Salmon frittata, roasted cauliflower and a Mediterranean salad.

And some gluccie puddings. Protein strawberry 🍓 and Orange Dreamsickle.

This idea came from the Trim Healthy Mamma cookbooks/Facebook so go look it up if you want to play with it.

I basically took the idea and used what i had on hand.

Strawberry protein:

Strawberries

Quest strawberry protein

Egg whites

Sf strawberry syrup

Water

Lankans monkfruit

Glucomannon powder. 1 scoop.

Sf white chocolate 3/4 box.

Orange Dreamsickle

1 orange

Glucomannon powder 2 scoops

Water

Sf vanilla syrup

Orange skittle drink mix

I don't know why I am having trouble adding a picture.

Well shit. Just.mix it in a blender for like 2 mins. Rest a couple mins and blend it again.

My point is:

Focus on your healthy habits.

What can you do to help your future self from getting off course?

Future me is going to be eating super nutrient dense meals!!

#glucomannon #gluccie pudding #healthy lifestyle #getting healthy #losing weight #healthy eating #fitblr #healthy habits #operation lose this gut #weight loss #operationlosethisgut #weight loss journey #cooking #healthy cooking #love veggies #eat veggies #protein pudding #protein

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nutriwise · 1 month

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Indulge in Protein Pudding Perfection

Taste the rainbow of flavors with Nutriwise Protein Pudding! From classic chocolate to tantalizing vanilla, we've got your cravings covered with a variety of delicious options. Experience the perfect blend of taste and nutrition today.

#protein pudding #high protein meals for weight loss #protein pudding recipes

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dashinghealth · 2 months

Video

youtube

🌿 Chia seeds and coconut milk: What You Need to Know 🥥

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icklewolfiekins · 5 months

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The thing about the Doctor is that by Thirteen, they don’t really believe in the good outweighing the bad anymore. If they were to reflect on their life, lives, they would count the trauma and the suffering and pain and forget to count the good. Which is something we all do, to an extent. Ten was so angry at the world and so sorrowful. Eleven tried to forget the pain and focus on the good but you don’t learn anything that way. Twelve spent an eternity literally hitting a wall because you can’t power through in anger alone. Thirteen tried to repeat the lessons of Eleven and just. Act like she was doing okay but all that repression meant she had some truly nasty moments. Because being the Doctor is about remembering the good so you can bring it to others. Fourteen needed to remember the good that the Doctor does for others. The Toymaker tried to make him dwell on his misery but the Doctor needed someone who he knew without a doubt would be better for having him. I almost think the reason that face came back was the DoctorDonna calling for it through time to bring Donna back, someone who the loss of really made the Doctor turn for the worse. And having a friend and having time to heal and essentially having a limitless holiday where you don’t HAVE to keep moving anymore, you can stay in or save the world or eat your weight in Christmas pudding at your leisure, having all of that (and hopefully some therapy) is what gives space for Fifteen. Fifteen can be happy immediately, can spend his first minutes alive playing a game and using the universal rule of Play, because Fourteen gets to learn how again. The very First Doctor gets characterised as a Grumpy Old Man TM but he was actually a mischievous and fun character who wanted to travel the universe and couldn’t stop himself from helping people. By Thirteen the Doctor has to travel the universe and help people because they don’t know anything else.

By Fifteen, the Doctor has remembered that the universe is not actually majority bad, it’s not just cruelty and suffering, but that we can make it better every day. Just by being totally, and really, really yourself.

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tatsumessy · 1 year

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3:00 am

Beelzebub- fluff

MC: Beel…

Beel: Yes Mc?

MC: Are you hungry?

Beel: Always.

MC: Meet me in the kitchen.

You wasted no time to jump out of bed and grab the wrapped box on your nightstand heading down towards the kitchen careful to not wake anyone up. After taking slow quiet steps down the hall you finally made it and could already see the fridge light on and Beel was eating away. You wondered how he made it there before you but it’s Beel, and he was hungry so there’s no question.

“Beel.” you spoke softly behind him, he flinched and turned around smiling as he went back to eating some more food. You set the box down and hopped onto the counter putting one leg over the other, you sat there admiring how beautiful the back of your boyfriends back was. And as an added bonus he only sleeps with sweats on so you get to admire his bare body for yourself whenever you two slept together.

You always wondered how he ate that much but never really gained weight. Yeah he works out a lot and plays sports but that still doesn’t account for the large amounts of food he eats every couple of hours. You sat there staring out the window lost in thought thinking back on when you first got here to now. Especially about how everything’s changed, you creating pacts with all the boys. Belphie almost killing you, you dating Beel. Finding out your a descendant to a very special person in their life.

Do all of them see you as a Lilith replacement? Does Beel see you that way? No, he couldn’t. He wouldn’t be dating you if he did, you wouldn’t be able to call him your boyfriend if he did.

He noticed you weren’t saying anything and closed the fridge setting down whatever he had in his arms onto the counter next to you. He pulled your legs apart and stood in between them quickly grabbing a thing of pudding and starting eating it. “Beel, have I told you how much I like you?” He nodded at your question and picked up the next thing to eat.

“I like you too MC.” He responded again stuffing his mouth, you used your thumb to clean off the corner of his mouth teasingly sticking your thumb in your mouth to taste whatever he ate. He paused and his face started heating up, he set down the container and pressed his lips onto yours. His arm wrapped around your waist stabilizing himself while his other hand ran through your hair gently massaging the back of your neck.

You wrapped your arms around his neck arching your body against his tasting the pudding he was eating each time his tongue went into your mouth exploring what he could. “I have a gift for you.” You said pulling away from him, he looked upset from the loss of contact but resumed his feasting while waiting for you to get situated.

You grabbed the box and pushed it against his chest watching him grab it with curiosity. You begged Solomon to do something for you as a favor because you wanted to give Beel a gift. Beel always said he loved your natural scent, that’s one of his favorite things about you. So you grabbed his favorite flower and had Solomon create a spray that was infused with your scent. The flower itself was embedded with it, creating tag a scented flower.

You can get the weirdest things here in Devildom.

“Smell it.” He did what you said and his eyes visibly lit up. “It smells like you. Is this for me?” He asked leaning against your chest, his head laid in the crook of your neck sniffing between the flower and you. “I’m going back to the human world soon and I didn’t want to leave you without anything B-Beel.”

He stiffened at your stuttering, sitting up his shoulders along with his face dropped seeing you cover your face. You were crying clearly and it was hard for you to open up about how you were feeling. Without saying anything he pulled you in for a hug and held you there until you calmed down. “Leaving you has had to be probably one of the hardest things I’ve had to do here.” He kissed your forehead and rubbed your back as you sniffled and talked into his neck.

“You haven’t left yet.” He said kissing your forehead again, you sighed agreeing with him but sooner or later you were bound to leave and it was going to be hard. You found someone who you truly fell in love with and he see you for you. “We have a pact, our souls are connected. Anytime you need me I’m there. Always. Even if it’s for something stupid like helping you pick out what clothes to wear. Whenever you miss me just call for me, I’ll come. I promise.” His words made you start crying again but this time tears of happiness.

He wiped away your tears while peppering kisses on your lips and cheeks. You smiled giving him small kisses back, he suddenly stopped and picked up the flower. He placed it behind your ear and gave it one big sniff then playfully sniffed your forehead all the way down to your feet. “I have to embed everything about you into my brain.” You laughed at his comment and cooed for him to come back up so that you could kiss him again.

This kiss was soft and reassuring, he wanted you to know that he was there and that you didn’t have to worry anymore. “Want me to sleep in your room tonight?” He asked in between each peck he pressed on your lips, “Yes please.” He smiled and picked you up walking the both of you back to your room as you hugged him thanking him for this precious memory you would never forget.

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