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sicklysweetie · 2 months

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breeding you full and not telling you a single thing about it.

all you know is that, one day, you’re sick, and i’m holding your hair out of the way (if it’s long) and cooing to you and rubbing your back, and making sure you stay well fed and hydrated.

then, one day, you’re trying to put on a cute little outfit, and it’s… difficult. your tummy is poking out a bit, your hips are a bit wider, your chest has filled out. i have been keeping you well fed since you got sick, that’s probably it. you frustratedly tug on the outfit, shrug, and leave it on. it’s still cute, after all.

in bed, you notice how enamored i am with your midriff, and giggle. i’m so silly about these things, saying stuff that doesn’t make sense. your belly is just your belly. but if i insist on whispering to it conspiratorially and giving it rubs, well, those rubs have been feeling pretty good lately…

one day, you take a moment to study yourself in the mirror. you’re getting REALLY round, and you don’t know why. it’s kinda cute, and i certainly seem to like it, but none of your tops fit right, and i don’t seem interested in taking you shopping for more. you’re a bit worried something might be wrong with your belly. it’s been feeling so heavy lately, and it almost feels like something’s moving in there.

so, i take you to the doctor (vet). i chat with them quietly while you poke curiously at your bulging abdomen, oblivious to what we’re saying. the doc looks you over, then has you lay down and starts squirting a weird gel on your bare stomach, which makes you shudder and giggle. the doc uses a tool to rub along the surface of your belly, staring intently at a screen while i stare over their shoulder, occasionally glancing at you and giving you a smile. we seem to be counting something, and the doctor’s eyes are getting wider and wider. i seem giddy, walking around to you and showering your face with kisses and saying something about “how good you’re doing,” and picking you up off the bed, laughing out a joke to the doctor about carrying you “while i still can.” utterly confused but happy to be in my arms, you snuggle against me as i walk you back out of the clinic.

one day, you’re wishing i would carry you more often. walking around is getting hard on your own, but when you try to get in my arms, i keep you solidly on the floor, saying “no baby, you’re too heavy now.” as if you don’t know that, as if that isn’t why you want me to carry you. you can’t understand why your belly won’t stop growing, why i won’t help you. did you do something wrong? is this some kind of punishment?

but, then again, you start whining and getting mopey, and i hold you against me, and i reach under your belly, and i make you feel good again. in this moment, something about being so big just feels… right. it feels really, really, really good.

one day, you try to roll out of bed. you try again. you huff and strain and moan, trying to shift your massive belly. you can’t. you whine to get my attention, and i come around and lever my hands beneath you, helping you sit up, then take your hands to get you to your feet. your knees buckle, and i barely manage to maneuver you back to the bed rather than risking you dropping straight to the floor. you sink into the mattress with a gasping huff, clutching at the great swell that’s weighing you down so much, almost crying in exasperation, but i kiss you and caress you and rub your stretched belly (almost making it worse, that strange sensation of bulging movement gets stronger when i touch you like that).

all you can do is lay in bed, eat the meals i bring you, and silently plead with your belly to stop getting bigger. it doesn’t listen.

I keep on trying to answer this but my brain turns into mush every time I read it so ummm… I’ll reblog with person thoughts evenfuallg

#Holy shiiiiiiiiit #pregnancy #mel’s tummy #kitty thoughts #hyper preg #woagh #woah #qow #Wow #Oh wow

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theguardianace · 3 months

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