#hange x pregnant!reader

[antheshewro]

Una mattina - Chapter 5. (final)

It took a cup of tea and a stop on a local café to make Levi learn how Hange, his partner perhaps for life, hid something big from him. Something as big as another person, and a baby, involved. Perhaps going out that day had been a mistake.

✩ Last chapter as promised (and announced)!! Thank you everyoe for liking the story or even just reading it :( it had been months since i wanted to post it and it's my little treasure... my own child almost. the end is very bittersweet, considering what happened during the entire story, but i figured out i wanted something not to sweet and not too sad/sour. be free to write me what you think about it ♡ NDA and even tmi again: this made me bawl my eyes out

After quietly eating her dinner, she sat on the couch and looked out of the big window of her living room. The sun had already settled in the sky, tiny stars timidly appearing around the place. Was Arthur looking at the nightly scenery just like she did? Would he enjoy it? Just the thought of Arthur looking at the stars made Lawrence want to tear up. If she got the opportunity, she would love to show him the nighttime sky during a clear day, maybe sitting on a rock by the shore with Arthur in her arms so she could feel him resting his head on her shoulder. The small, intimate family that she always wanted was all she could think of. She would give anything to be a mom to Arthur and see him grow up, watch him become an amazing human being.

Several minutes later, the feeling of staying alone in that house was suffocating. Lawrence grabbed her coat, wearing it over her long nightgown, and slipped some loafers in. The neighborhood was quiet, besides a group of kids playing around the street. The moment she closed the door of her house, that sound made her stomach drop. Her therapist would say walks would help her to clear her mind. There was nothing to "clear", since everything felt empty. The children laughing made her heart suffer a little less, yet reminded her she didn't know how Arthur's laugh sounded like. Lawrence didn't even know what her own son looked like. Nothing could soothe that pain. Lawrence walked away from her own place, not even greeting any of the neighbors she encountered on her way to the park. She just wanted to be alone, to think and have some time to process her thoughts, her feelings of emptiness after seeing Sam and his dad. Arthur was probably happy without her. Levi was probably a better dad. Lawrence always believed she was a good mother, yet she wasn’t given the chance to prove it. It was too late and her heart would forever be aching with sadness and regret of not getting to cherish Arthur the way she planned to do. As she sat on a bench inside the park, Lawrence brought her knees up against her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. It was nice to see how parents would still bring their kids there, even after dinner time. Some of them even had an ice cream cone in their tiny hands. For the very first time in her entire life, as her eyes closed and took a breath, she prayed. She had never been a religious person, but felt a despair no words could ever explain. Lawrence prayed whoever was able to listen to her, asking for just a chance to see Arthur, to talk to him, to hold her own son in her arms. Asking for the possibility to be a mother.

Her pain and desperation were too much for anyone to bear. It was as if she was mourning Arthur, yet he was and well. She kept praying and praying, until her head began to spin and hurt, feeling nauseous. Maybe Arthur missed Lawrence, maybe he had always loved her and wanted to be with his mother. He would never get the chance of hearing her soft voice and feeling her warm embrace. But those thoughts were mere assumptions, and deep down, she knew they could never be the truth. Arthur didn't know who Lawrence was. He only got to know Levi, and probably was oblivious about thr fact she carried him for nine months and gave birth to him. She was just a stranger for Arthur, that was the harsh truth. Tears rolled down Lawrence’s cheeks as she kept begging for one final chance at motherhood. ____________________________________________________________

A week later after that one day, Lawrence had the time to ponder about what to do and how not to live her life miserably. There was no point in staying in Liberio if her son was never going to know about her existence. Living in that house, with that nursery, was hitting her more than she expected to. In a matter of days, she organised a trip to go back to her home country, in Britain, booked for the following week. To finally leave everything behind and grant herself a little bit of happiness. Lawrence couldn’t wait for the day she would fly away from that house, to escape the pain of knowing Arthur was so close to her yet so far. She thought about not say anything to Levi and just disappear, too, but what would he think? That she was abandoning Arthur? She would rather know he believed such a thing than to know the truth. That she was still mourning her son in a way that was making her sick, both physically and mentally. It felt weird to just fly away, leaving everything behind without a word. She felt like a coward for planning that. Event though Levi was the last person she wanted to see, Lawrence had to let him know about her departure to at least prevent some more accusations. She wouldn't hop on that ship and sail to the U.K. if it wasn't for that situation, yet staying in Liberio was beginning to make her mentally unstable. Not even meds were keeping up with her mental health. A rather chill Wednesday afternoon, she found herself at Levi's front door. Soft knocks echoed around his house as she waited for him to open. It had to be done. Levi opened the door and saw Lawrence waiting in front of it. His face was filled with curiosity, as he knew that Lawrence never visited him until that one day, since Arthur's birth. If she was there, it meant something serious had happened. Lawrence seemed paler than usual, and her face was a bit drawn too. She was either exhausted or depressed, or both. Levi couldn’t say for sure, not asking her about it and just inviting her to enter. “Hello, Lawrence.” Lawrence had to support herself on the wall next to the doorframe in order not to fall. She looked at the door opening but didn't step inside, she had no pleasure to be in a house where her own son, the same she was never going to meet, was living and probably playing in that same moment. Her gaze lifted up and met Levi's, speaking with a voice that was barely above a whisper. “I'll be quick,” She bluntly said, swallowing and letting her glance move from Levi to the ground, several times, before speaking up again. “I'm gonna move back to Britain. Permanently.” Levi didn’t like Lawrence’s tone, knowing it wasn’t a tone of someone who was announcing a simple departure. In fact, it sounded like she was about to cry. Lawrence was always so composed and quiet, yet Levi could tell that she was holding back some sobs.

After Lawrence spoke up, Levi felt a small pang in his heart. It all felt so sudden; first, she appeared at his front door out of the blue. Now, she said she was going to leave Marley forever. Despite everything that happened, something worried him. “You will come back, right?” He asked her, making his voice sound quiet and composed, yet it showed a hint of concern. The fact Levi was acting so clueless, after everything he did and said to her, made Lawrence irritated, as if it never happened and he actually cared about her wellbeing. The hand she had on the wall clenched into a fist, wiping some tears with the other one, trying to calm herself down before responding.

“Back to a city where my own son lives? The same son who doesn't know I'm his mother?” She almost hissed under her breath, tilting her head a little to the side as she uttered those words. “Is that what you mean?” Levi knew that Lawrence was right, that she had every right in the world to feel the way she felt towards Levi. She was right, but Levi didn’t know what to say, as Lawrence had her mind set in stone about her own decision. He couldn’t stand the guilt he felt, and it was making him sick. Her own son. Levi’s own son. They never met and Lawrence would never get back her moments with Arthur. “I’m sorry.” Was all Levi could say in a voice even softer than her own.

Lawrence quietly hit the wall with her fist, trying to calm herself down as she tapped the tip of her heel onto the marble steps of Levi's house. Yet, she had something inside of her that needed to come out. Everything she endured and suppressed in the past three years, everything Levi didn't see about her suffering. “Shove that being sorry up your ass,” She murmured softly, raising her eyebrows as tears spilled from her eyes and down to her cheeks. “Don't even try to act innocent.” Levi felt his heart breaking in front of him. Lawrence’s harsh words stung, even though her feelings were valid and she couldn’t blame her for that at all. He couldn’t help himself and felt anger boiling within him. His voice turned into a low growl; it was too much to hold inside himself.

“You act like I don’t hate myself for what I did. You don’t know how much I regret it every single day, how much I hate myself for taking him away from his own mother.” Lawrence slightly narrowed her eyes at those words, which widened right afterwards as she took notice of Levi's anger. He was the one getting mad over what he did? Over her being rightfully hurt by what he took away from her? Her quiet footsteps soon reached him, and hopping on one step of the front door, she spoke closely to Levi's face. “Don't even try to gaslight me,” She hissed again, feeling her breath fastening as annoyance began to flow through her veins. “You got what you wanted. You're not sorry.” Levi’s teeth grinded together as he saw rage on Lawrence’s face when she stood in front of him. He couldn’t say a word that would make her calm. “You know what? You’re right. I’m not sorry.” His voice was firm and the growl made him sound serious and mad about something Lawrence only knew. His eyes met her own. “And you know what? I’d do it again if it meant protecting Arthur.” Just like his jaw clenched, Lawrence's did the same. Her fist tightly closed until her nails were almost digging into the palm of her hand, and let him step closer as they spoke to each other. It was the aftermath of what they went through. What they've been lodging for three long years and never got said out loud.

“You mean stealing someone's baby, since Arthur is Hange's son?” She asked sternly, yet with a hint of sarcasm and mockery in her tone. “Or you want to impregnate me and steal that baby too?” Lawrence’s question was too much for his gut to handle in this moment, and Levi felt his face grow red with anger. His nostrils flared as he stared at Lawrence for a few seconds before he lost control and let out a growl with loud words. “Don’t you dare put such thoughts in my head!” He shouted, losing his cool at last. How could she ask something like that to him? His mind began to spiral out of control, sending him over the edge. Lawrence exhaled deeply and shook her head. Levi's outburst was everything she needed to know about him and the way he was convinced about being right about what he did. There was no point in arguing anymore, or keeping the conversation going. As she took a step back, her eyes were on Levi, yet their faces were still some inches away from each other. Lawrence's expression was showing nothing but resentment towards him, mixed up with pain and annoyance. That confrontation, however, was pretty much needed. Levi’s breathing started becoming heavier as he tried to calm himself down. His face was red from shouting, but he didn’t regret telling Lawrence how he felt. What needed to be said was said. “You’re leaving. And I’m glad.” Her words hit him like a bucket of freezing water, feeling hurt and angry. His eyes were full of resentment and disdain towards Lawrence as she took a step back. “Don’t come back. I never want to see your face again. Be gone already.” Lawrence kept her gaze locked with Levi's as she moved away from the front door, down until the iron gates to exit his property. As if a cruel coincidence just decided to manifest in front of her own eyes, a fly was bothering her and she waved her hand to make it go away, following it with her eyes. Then she froze. On the first floor of Levi's house, out on the balcony, a child with dark brown hair and curious brown eyes was intently looking at her. Lawrence felt her knees weak. It couldn't be. It was Arthur himself.

Levi, who was about to slam the door in Lawrence’s face, stayed still once he saw her reaction when she noticed Arthur in the balcony. Levi himself couldn’t believe his own eyes and felt like he was hallucinating. He had never let Arthur see her, yet there the kid was, staring straight at Lawrence. Arthur was looking at Lawrence, intrigued and curious, as he watched her closely. He had always wondered about her, who she was and why his father never let him meet her. Yet, he saw her now, and he wanted to approach her.

In that eye contact, Lawrence could see the creature she carried on for nine months inside her womb. She got to see him once, right after his birth, but those were indeed his eyes. It was her son, yet Arthur didn't know she was his mother. He looked at her as if he wanted to know who she was, as if she was a mere stranger. Tears filled her eyes, stinging and making them burn. Her prayers, in the most painful way, were heard. Lawrence finally got to see her own son, even if her heart felt like someone was stomping on it more and more. Levi didn’t know what to do. Seeing Arthur staring at Lawrence filled him with a new kind of anxiety. He had never let Arthur know who she was. Arthur just saw a woman who was staring lovingly back at him, as if the woman was his real mother. Lawrence seemed so overwhelmed that Levi didn’t dare to speak or move. The kid would wonder why she wasn’t his mother, or why she wasn’t with them. Levi could see why Lawrence always kept her heart closed. Arthur was looking right at her with love in his eyes.

It felt like the cruellest joke one could ever imagine. Her own son was just feet away from her but she couldn't interact to him. Arthur was staring at Lawrence like a kid would with everyone, with innocence and joy in his eyes. How could she even walk away knowing her own son was right in front of her. With the corner of her eyes, Levi's reaction was crystal clear. She didn't want him to shout in front of Arthur just to send her away. Lawrence took a step back and opened the gates, yet her eyes never stopped looking at her child and tearing up. Arthur’s eyes widened when he noticed that Lawrence was slowly moving away. He didn’t want to see her leave. He couldn’t. Arthur didn’t understand what was going on in reality, but in his mind he felt like her mother was trying to run away from him. “Mommy?” By the time Arthur uttered that single word, using that soft baby voice, Lawrence swore her heart stopped. Everything that happened afterwards was unrolling in front of her eyes without her getting a grasp of it. She felt her knees so weak to the point she dropped on her knees, and with her upper body lowered a little, loud sobs echoed around Levi's garden. Was it fate to play tricks on her? How could Arthur, who never saw her growing up nor knew who Lawrence really was, call her as his mother? Even though more and more questions plagued her mind, it felt so empty in the meantime. She never recalled crying that hard before, maybe once. Her chest would hurt at each whimper and sniffle she made, not carrying about being heard anymore. Arthur’s eyes went wide in shock when he realized that his mother was crying. As if that wasn’t enough, Arthur was even more confused and sad when Lawrence seemed to want to leave. Arthur, who was just a kid, felt a deep sense of abandonment that only adults could truly understand. Arthur called out to Lawrence again. “Mommy, come back! Don’t leave me alone!” He cried and ran to her, his little arms up in the air, desperate to have her close to him. Levi was shocked at Arthur’s reaction towards Lawrence. The moment Lawrence embraced Arthur in her arms, the deep sense of sorrow she felt in the previous three years vanished for a moment. His tiny arms wrapped around her neck and she hugged her son tightly, crying over his little romper as she sat in the pebbled ground, caressing his soft hair in the meantime. What he said to her was enough to make her feel even worse, how could Arthur even think she was gonna leave him? Yet, that hug made her feel at ease. Lawrence didn't know what was making her cry anymore, but it didn't matter anymore. Someone up there took care of her pain. Arthur was crying so hard as he hugged Lawrence and yelled for her to not leave him. He was too young to understand what was happening, as all he felt right now was the love for his mother. “Don’t leave me! I love you!” He whined, trying to reach higher to hug her better. Levi couldn’t move a single inch. He was shocked at Arthur’s behavior and at his words. How coul Arthur feel such affection for her, if she didn't even know her? That, to him, was impossible and yet, there was evidence of it right in front of him. If Lawrence had to respond to that question, she would've asked herself the same thing. Lawrence couldn't understand how Arthur immediately knew she was his mother, they never met before that moment. She heard how mothers have that unbreakable bond with their biological kids to the point they would recognise each other everywhere. Was it the case?

“I'm never gonna leave you,” She whispered against Arthur's ear, giving her son soft kisses on his soaked, red cheeks as she spoke. “Mommy loves you.”

Arthur was crying even harder as Lawrence embraced him and told him she wouldn’t leave. It was a sweet moment even though it was too much of a coincidence. The boy held his mother tight as he cried all his tears out. It was probably the first time he cried with no shame, feeling loved and at peace in her warm embrace. After what felt like hours, Lawrence got up from the ground, while still holding Arthur, and moved towards the front door, where Levi was still standing against the doorframe. She felt so much relief, after battling with her mental health, to the point where her heart couldn't almost bear it. Her free hand reached for Levi's, placing it on Arthur's back, and gave him a faint smile, with her tear stained face and her red eyes. Then, she spoke up. Lawrence could never separate her son to Levi. He grew up with him, he cared about his wellbeing. The child was his. Those words felt so weird as they came out of her mouth, after what happened in the past years. But they came from a dark corner of her heart, too dark for her to understand it, or how her mind worked, and they felt right. Genuine. “He's your son, too.” Levi finally broke the silence when he heard what Lawrence had to say to him and saw her grabbing his hand. He felt like the world had stopped. “I thought…” He began to say, with tears in his eyes. It was true. Arthur was his son too, maybe not biological, but he had raised the kid with his own hands and he was part of him. “He’s my son?” Levi asked. It was hard for him to come to terms with it. Lawrence nodded and pushed away Levi's hand from her son's back, just to held it tightly as she let her own words sink deep into his mind. Even though that entire ordeal between them was more than horrible and it all started with Arthur being Hange's son, Levi made sure the child was loved and nurtured. He was indeed his father. He would've died for him. “He grew up with you, and you provided him everything he needed,” She said gently, intertwining her fingers with Levi's as she spoke up. “You're rightfully his father.” Lawrence’s words were like a revelation to Levi. Arthur was his kid. Even though he hadn’t created him directly himself, he loved him and cared for him as if Arthur was his own. And now his mother was saying that Arthur was his son too. Levi had never felt more emotional in his life than at that moment.

“He’s… my son.” Levi repeated with a soft smile, his mind racing with thoughts. He was a father, he had a kid. During the past weeks, however, Lawrence came up with another thought she let linger in her mind for days, but always pushed away at some point. Everything started because of Hange's infidelity, and even if she was indeed the side chick, Hange played both Lawrence and Levi. Why still being on a war for someone else's behaviour? “Hange cheated on you and didn't care about me, either,” She pointed out firmly, taking a breath and exhaling through her nose. “We both got wronged. Arthur is our son.” What Lawrence said made Levi think back to the reason why Arthur was born in the first place. She was right. It all began with Hange cheating on him and Lawrence getting mixed in that mess. Levi was still trying to process the revelation that Arthur was his son, and everything that happened until that moment. A smile appeared on his face as he heard Lawrence speaking the truth. Silence fell on the two of them, both Lawrence and Levi finally taking a grasp of what had been under their noses their entire time. There was no point in fighting anymore, and she was tired of it. All she wanted was to be Arthur's mother, and for some twisted reason, she was willing to get over what he had done to her. A shared look made the two of them realize how tiredsome it had been to keep up. It was time to give Arthur the mother he deserved and the father that kept him safe all those years. Their lips curled up a bit, sharing much more complicity they were expecting to feel. “Our son.”

#attack on titan #aot #levi x reader #levi x hange #levihan #levi x oc #hange x oc #post war aot #levi x pregnant!reader #hange x pregnant!reader #aot x ooc #aot ooc #levi x pregnant!oc #pregnant oc #hange x pregnant!oc #snk #shingeki no kyojin

[iris0-0]

[Hange & Y/n are partners, any gender]

Hange calmly speaking to their partner y/n, as they look at the blood test results:

“You’re pregnant.”

Hange more excited runs to the mess hall, excited to be a parent, and you quickly follow.

Hange: “Guys! Y/n/n’s pregnant. I’m gonna be a parent!” They yell excitedly.

*Everyone turns their head, especially Levi shocked. He looks at you in horror.*

Levi: “Y/n. How could you do that to us. Oh my god they’re multiplying.” He says quickly walking out of the mess hall.

#anime #aot #aot x reader #levi ackerman #hange zoe #hange x reader #oneshot #imagine #pregnant reader

[noodlesfics]

I was wondering if you could write a fanfic where the scouts react to the pregnant readers water breaking? If not that’s fine but I think it would be funny

A/N~OF COURSE! I LOVE THIS 🤣❤️

Levi

He'd just be like "what the actual fuck". He knows what it means and that you need to get to a hospital but the shock he gets when it actually happens to you is hilarious. He worries about getting it off the floorboards as he rushes to get his cleaning supplies, but then he realises he needs to get you out, so he drops his stuff, gets you out the house, runs back in to clean the stuff he dropped, it's all a big mess.

Erwin

He's trying his hardest to conceal his panicking in favour of keeping you calm and collected. He has everything prepared and is ready to get you going to the point where he is short of breath and can't move. In the end it's you that drags him out of the house and you making him clean the dirty floorboards.

Hange

"Y/n you're leaking" she's smart but it takes her a while to get there. She literally starts screaming. When she ran over to you to check to make sure everything was alright, she slipped and fell head first into the cabinet. Long story short, she was unconscious and Levi took you to the hospital. She gets to the hospital eventually but the screaming doesn't stop, it's even louder than yours!

Miche

You're in separate rooms and as soon as it happens he rushes in because he could smell something was going to happen. He almost passed out at the sight! He's still in his gear when he zips across rooftops with you about to give birth. He's strong, he can manage anything. Apart from where he almost dropped you on a roof from shock.

Moblit

Poor man is terrified. All the bags he prepared were upstairs but he didn't want to leave you. So he sat you on a chair with a thick pillow under you as he got all the bags. He was so scared to the point he was crying and sobbing as he ran around. He accidentally threw some of the bags at you when he was running and started to cry more from guilt and inflicting more pain on you.

#anime #aot #attack on titan #aot x reader #levi ackerman #erwin smith #hange zoe #miche zacharias #moblit berner #levi x reader #erwin x reader #hange x reader #miche x reader #moblit x reader #pregnant reader #pregnency #water break

[nanaslutt]

baby making

ʚ pairing: husband nanami x reader

ʚ cont: fem reader, established relationship, talk of pregnancy, breeding kink, dirty talk, fingering, oral (f!r), dacraphillia, rough sex, cockwarming, Nanami is whipped

ʚ note: it’s not necessary, but a little context to the plot u can find here on this smau i wrote :3

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

You placed your phone down on your bedside table and rested your head on the pillow under you, sticking your arm underneath it. You could hardly contain your excitement waiting for Nanami to get home. You were unable to resist pressing your thighs together at the thought of Nanami's pure excitement when talking about getting you knocked up. 

Starting a family was only something the two of you talked about when your relationship first started, as the two of you made sure you were on the same page before things got serious, and thankfully they were. Both you and Nanami eventually wanted to have kids. 

Your eyes darted over to your phone on the bedside table every few minutes, your heart racing as you watched the time tick by, knowing with each growing second, Nanami was on his way home to you. You squeezed your thighs tighter together and rut your hips forward, trying to bring yourself a little relief from the friction of your clit being pressed between your thighs. 

Sooner than you were expecting, you heard the familiar clicking and jingling of Nanami trying to work the door open with his keys, making you shoot up from the bed in excitement and rush out of the bedroom, running toward the front door. Nanami sighed when he finally stepped foot into the familiar environment being his own home, the scent of you filling his nostrils, making him even more antsy to see you.

As the blonde-haired man loosened his tie and started undoing the first few buttons on his shirt, you slid out from behind a wall, rushing toward him with a beaming smile on your face. Nanami's expression changed into a warmer, happier one as you quickly made your way over to him. Nanami hummed quietly as he took you into his embrace, wrapping his large arms around your body as you pressed the side of your face into his chest, inhaling his scent. 

"Someone missed me." Nanami joked, rubbing his hand over the back of your head, the other rubbing your back soothingly. "You got here so quick." You responded, pulling back a bit to look him in the eyes. Nanami moved his hands in front of him to grab your soft cheeks in his warm palms, the head from his hands radiating into your skin. "You really were needy huh?" Kento cooed, watching carefully as you leaned into his touch, your facial muscles relaxing. 

You let your eyes shut when Kento leaned forward and pressed a lasting kiss to your forehead, his soft lips tickling your skin before he pulled away, brushing his thumb over your cheek. "Let's move this conversation to the bedroom, hm?" Kento said softly, his deep voice melting away your tenseness. Nodding at him, you let Nanami take your hand in his and stroll in front of you, leading you to the bedroom. 

You started to grow antsier by the second as you grew closer to the room, knowing exactly what conversation waited for you there. Nanami placed his hands on your thigh as you sat down on the bed against the pillows, legs folded crisscross as he sat in front of you, one leg hanging off the side of the bed. 

His hand rubbing against your upper thigh should've felt soothing, but it only fueled your neediness more and more. "Why don't you tell me what you told me earlier," Nanami said, smiling at you sweetly. The scent of his cologne was filling your nose and making you dizzy, his words that put you on the spot made your heart race. You placed your smaller hand on top of his that rested on your thigh and looked into his eyes, fighting every urge that said to look away.

"I want you to get me pregnant Nanami." You said quietly, slowly stroking up his wrist and forearm before sliding back down. The small, comforting action sent shivers down his spine, his eyes following your hand's motion. "And you're sure you want this?" He asked, gripping your thigh to emphasize his words. You waited till his eyes found yours again before you gave him a small smile and nodded.

"I wanna start a family with you Ken, I think we're ready." You said, swallowing whatever saliva was left in your dry mouth. Nanami's smile grew, the tips of his ears growing red at your words. Keeping his eyes on yours, he slid his hand out from underneath yours and placed it on top of your own, caging your hand against your thigh for a moment before he gripped your wrist and started pulling it towards his body.

You held your breath, only releasing it when he finally placed your hand down on top of something hard, hot. The bulge your hand was forcefully placed on top of twitched several times under your palm, making you throb between your legs. You didn't have to look down to know what you were touching. "You know, I've been like this since you texted me at work," Nanami said calmly, his deep voice making your body tingle.

You nodded slowly in understanding, your eyebrows barely furrowing together as your arousal for him grew. Nanami started palming your hand, making you rub his bulge through his pants. The blonde-haired man released a long, low groan, his eyes falling shut as he relished in the feeling of your hand rubbing his cock through the fabric. He could feel his dick leaking pre-cum against his boxers, antsy to get out of the tight confines of his work slacks. 

"You have no idea how long I've wanted this," Nanami said, leaning forward, keeping your hand pressed against his cock. You let his body guide yours to lay down against the sheets, your legs spread around his hips, making room for him between your legs. You gasped as Nanami leaned down into the crook of your neck and pressed a kiss to the soft skin there before he groped your hand on him harder, a moan spilling from between his lips and seeping into your ear.

Kento released your hand, trusting you would keep teasing him over his pants while he reached between you and placed his hand right above your pelvis. Your thighs squeezed around his waist when he pressed down, hard, making you feel his touch from the inside. "Gonna let me put a baby in here tonight? Hm?" Kento teased, rubbing your lower tummy in circles, making gasps and small moans fall from between your lips.

"Yes," You breathlessly replied, nodding at him. Kento's eyes darted back and forth from your tummy to your lustful face as he kept rubbing you there, reminding you what would be filling you up soon. "Kento's mouth fell open into a larger O when you gripped the outline of his cock through his pants, your palm rubbing against his tip just right. 

"Oh fuck," He moaned, his eyes rolling back in his head for a moment before they found your face again. "Come here." Kento rushed forward and pressed his lips against yours, greedily swallowing your hums and moans. His hand on your tummy released the pressure and slid down your pelvis, quickly finding that most sensitive spot between your legs through your pants.

Nanami hummed against your lips as he started rubbing that spot with two large fingers, his face growing hotter and hotter after every moan that escaped your lips. You stroked Nanami over his pants the best you could, your cunt growing wetter as you felt Kento throb against your hand, his hips humping into your touch. He was rushing more than usual. 

You knew Kento had a breeding kink, he didn't even try to hide it. The man would rather die than finish anywhere but inside of you when the two of you were fucking, he said it was a waste. Always babbling on and on about how he was going to fuck you full, knock you up, and this time when he said those things, he would really mean it. It would be more than just dirty talk to work the both of you up.

Even at the beginning of your relationship when the two of you used condoms, he still came inside you with the rubber surrounding him, pretending as if his cum was filling your womb instead of the stupid condom. Your eyebrows raised and your eyes fluttered in their sockets when Kento rubbed quick, hard circles against your clit through your pants, making your strokes on his cock pause as the pleasure clouded your head.

"Yeah? Feel good?" Nanami moaned against your lips when you broke away from the kiss, breathy moans leaking from your lungs. You nodded dumbly at his words, feeling how the heat spread through your body. "I know," Nanami responded, nodding at you. The man pulled back seconds later only to slip his fingers under the hem of your pants and panties and jerk them off your body in almost one fell swoop, his urgency making you giggle.

When Nanami turned back to you after discarding your clothes on the floor, he watched as you pressed your thighs together, hiding yourself from him as you giggled, covering your mouth with one of your hands. Nanami pouted, the blush on his face deepening as he placed his hands on the tops of your knees and forced them apart, keeping his eyes on your giggling face. "What?" He asked, keeping that stoic, pouting look on his face.

"Nothing it's just-" You reached up and grabbed his face in your soft hands, making Nanami's eyes flutter at the soft touch, his head leaning into the touch. "You're just being so needy, I like it." You said, smiling at him. Nanami turned his head in your hands and placed a kiss on your palm before he leaned back, making your hands drop back down to your sides.

Nanami lowered himself on his stomach between his thighs, placing your thighs around his head. The pressure of the soft mattress against his clothed cock felt good, bringing him a little relief while he worked you open. You sucked air in through your teeth when Nanami placed a soft kiss on the inside of your thighs, his hair tickling your skin. "How can I not be?" He responded, looking up at you, his other hand mindlessly reaching for your cunt and spreading you open, all muscle memory.

"My wife told me she wants me to give her a baby, it's hard to be calm," Nanami said before he leaned in and let his eyes close as he licked a fat stripe up the expanse of your cunt. Immediately your hands reached between your thighs to card through his hair, your neck craning itself up to watch him work between your thighs. Kento's eyebrows knit at the familiar, sweet taste of you, making him hungry for more.

That single touch of his tongue on you was the sweetest he was going to be. Kento dove in after that, like a carnivore who just had its first taste of blood after starving all winter. You squeezed his head between your thighs, allowing yourself to move your hips against his face how your body needed, just like he always told you to do. "Oh fuck Ken, oh fuck-" You whined when he shook his head back and forth against your cunt while sucking your clit between his lips. 

"Mhmmm...mmmm." Nanami moaned into your cunt, acknowledging your curses and cries of his name as he fucked you with his tongue. You were unable to keep your head up any longer when Nanami's finger joined the assault on your cunt. He rubbed the tip of his finger against your entrance to warn you he was going to penetrate you before he pressed it in, his finger sliding in with barely any resistance thanks to how wet you were.

Kento got to work quickly, thrusting his finger in and out of you in time with his sucks and flicks of his tongue against your cunt. You cried out his name and gripped his hair hard between your fingers when he curled his finger straight into your g-spot, making your back arch. "Fuck- Kento right there- r-right there," You whined, your head thrashing back and forth against the pillow under your head. 

You never lasted long when Kento ate you out, he was so good with his tongue and knew each and every spot that made you lose your mind. His other hand had a firm grip on your thigh, squeezing the fat of it whenever your legs around his head squeezed too tight, restricting his mobility. "Ken I'm gonna cum- s-shit-" You felt your orgasm barrel at you quick.

Kento nodded and hummed against you before he pulled his finger out of your dripping cunt to the hilt before pressing in another finger, immediately going back to the quick pace he started before in curling and thrusting his fingers inside you, abusing your g-spot. Your body shook and writhed against the sheets, almost seeming like it was trying to escape the pleasure. 

"God-" You grit the word out through your teeth just before you came. Nanami sucked hard on your little bud, flicking it around with his tongue, drawing circles, and spelling his name. With one last movement of his tongue, the ball in your tummy unraveled and you were cumming all over Nanami's tongue. The man groaned feeling your walls squeeze around his fingers as he kept fucking you through it, bulling his fingers into your g-spot.

You cried broken moans of his name as you came, your head jerking side to side, eyes squeezed shut. Nanami's eyes were barely open but they were open as he watched your face screw into pleasure as you let go all over his tongue. Nanami pulled back from your cunt when your hands pushed him away feeling yourself start to go into overstimulation from his ruthless tongue. 

You swallowed air greedily, fighting to catch your breath from such an intense orgasm. Your cunt clenched and twitched around nothing after Nanami slid his fingers out. The man sat up and placed your shaky, weak legs over his thighs, rubbing them soothingly as you fully came down from your orgasm.

"How was that?" Kento asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before he placed his hand back on your thigh. You gave him a drunken smile, staring at his messy face and ruffled hair. "You're a mess." You smirked, reaching up to drag your hand down his chest. Kento watched your hand drag down his body and rest on his belt, your other hand joining it.

He looked back up to your face, finding your eyes already on his. The clinking of the belt echoed through the room as you worked on getting it off of him, along with unzipping his pants. Kento grabbed your hand before you could pull down his pants. The man grabbed your wrist and leaned over your body, lacing his fingers with yours as he pinned you underneath him, your hand above your head.

Kento's own hand reached down and reached into his boxers through the hole in the crotch, pulling his cock out through it, his pants still resting on his hips, just a little lower so it was more comfortable for him. You dropped your eyes to watch him jerk himself off, rubbing the pre-cum he leaked along the length of his shaft.

"I can't wait any longer, I'm sorry." Kento said, almost remorsefully. You noticed how shaky his hand was, he must really be holding back. You reached out and grabbed the first half of his cock, jerking it off with him. The man groaned at the touch, his hips jerking into your touch. "It's okay Ken, I'm ready for you." You replied, smiling genuinely at him, reassuring him you were okay. 

Kento leaned forward and connected his lips with your own, his tongue pushing past your lips and entangling with your own, as he continued stroking himself, the head of his cock poking the inside of your thigh, smearing wetness on your skin. "Ken-" You tried to speak against his lips but his kiss was too hurried and forceful, drowning out any words you had to say. 

You wrapped your one arm that wasn't pinned down around his neck, your nails scratching against his shirt, the fabric wrinkling under your grip. "Put it in k-kento put it in." You whined, forcing your head back against the soft pillow, allowing you to escape his life for enough time for him to hear your words. Kento groaned against your lips, not answering you with any real words as he directed his cock to your cunt, the fat, warm head of his cock rubbing against your cunt. 

"Mhm, mhm." You encouraged him, moaning into the kiss, nodding against him. You could feel Nanami's hot breath tickling your face as he breathed out heavily through his nose, mixing your juices together as he rubbed himself against you. Your breath halted when Nanami caught the head of his cock against the opening of your cunt. You felt the pressure of him pushing against you, slowly feeding you his cock.

Nanami's lips separated with yours and the two of you groaned in unison when his fat head penetrated your warm walls and started sliding inside. You could feel every bump and vein of his cock rubbing inside you as he slowly pushed himself in. "Shit, I got you, I got you." Nanami groaned, his head falling into the crook of your neck, his fingers entangling with yours tighter above your head. 

His breath was shaky against your neck, choked moans and breaths of air escaped him as he fought to not thrust the entirety of his cock inside you and mess you up already, you needed to adjust first. You opened your legs further around him, giving him some room as he pushed himself deeper inside. "You're so soft inside after you cum." Kento groaned into your ear.

You squeezed your eyes shut and grit your teeth as Kento fully thrust himself inside you, his balls pressing flush against your ass, his chest pressed to yours. He was letting a little bit of his body weight rest on top of you, and it felt so nice, grounding. "God-" You moaned in response to his words, your cunt tightening around him, making him release another choked groan.

Nanami leaned back and released your fingers with him, placing your legs over his shoulders before he leaned over you again, your body now folded in a mating press. "H-hah- you feel so deep like this," You whined, your voice high-pitched and whiny. You wrapped both arms around his shoulders and pulled him close, not wanting to lose the pressure of his body against yours.

Nanami slipped a hand between your bodies and found your clit with his fingers with expert precision. He began rubbing the bud in circles slowly, making your pussy squeeze around him in response, a feeling that went straight to his balls. "You should try b-being in my position, I feel like I'm in your stomach," Nanami responded, rolling his hips in circles against you, trying to stretch you open like that.

Moans and whines were pulled from your lips as each rotation he made with his hips pressed his cock against your sweet spot. The combination of his finger rubbing your clit and his cock gyrating inside you made your eyes roll back in your head. "Good, need y-you to be deep so it takes." You replied, your words needy and breathless, which you whined straight into his ear. You felt Kento's cock jump inside you before you felt his head fall limply into the crook of your neck, undoubtedly from his body going weak with pleasure.

"Please, please let me move." He begged, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine. You turned your head towards him and kissed his forehead, your hands rubbing his back. "Move Ken, fuck me, fuck a baby into me." You whispered into his ear. The blonde man wasted no time in pulling his cock out of you almost entirely before he slammed it back inside, starting up a brutal pace inside you.

Moan after moan was being forced from your lips as Kento's cock bullied right against your g-spot. You felt tears well up in your eyes immediately, just a few thrusts and he was already fucking you dumb. "You feel so good, so fucking warm." Kento babbled, his eyes pressed firmly shut, his lips pressed to your neck, occasionally pressing kisses and sucking hickeys into the skin when he wasn't spewing filth and groaning with an open mouth.

"I love you- I love you." Kento moaned, his hand gripping the underside of your thigh stronger, keeping you folded in place for him as he pulled his head up from the crook of your neck to find your fucked out face. Tears had started streaming down your cheeks, your eyebrows were knit together in pleasure and your eyes fought to stay open with each thrust. Nanami placed his forehead against yours, your skin rubbing against his with each strong thrust of his hips against yours. 

"L-Love you Kento, I love you so much-" You replied, feeling yourself squeeze around him at your own words. You felt his soft lips press against your forehead softly, gently, a stark contrast from his rough hips beating your pussy up before he leaned back and held the underside of your thighs down as far as they could go, the backs of your thighs touching your body.

Kento's balls slapping against your ass were creating a loud, lewd, squelching sound that made you feel dizzy. You looked down at where your bodies were connected and watched his cock drag in and out of your cunt, a thick white ring of cum forming at the base of his cock from how wet you were. You could only watch for a few seconds before your head tipped back agaisnt the pillows, your eyes screwed shut as wonton moans left your lips. "You're taking me so well, doing so good honey." Nanami praised, shaking his head at you in awe as more and more tears spilled down your cheeks. 

Nanami released you from the intense position right when your thighs started to burn, your legs falling limply over his thighs as his body was back on yours again. You were brought back down to earth when you felt Nanami's warm hand caress your cheek, his thumb wiping away the stream of tears that had spilled. Although his effort was futile as more spilled down anyway, the gesture made your heart swell.

Kento's lips found yours again, his hand sliding between your bodies again to find your clit and rub it soothingly in little circles, making the knot in your tummy tie tighter. Kento's groans and moans were much more frequent now, louder too. He wasn't one to hold back in bed, but he also wasn't super loud in terms of the volume of his moans. Tonight was different, however. He couldn't stop picturing you knocked up, your tummy round with his child after the events that were happening right in front of him. It was driving him crazy. 

Nanami's lips disconnected with yours unexpectedly with a noise that sounded suspiciously like a whimper, as his head found its home in the crook of your neck once more. His hips were losing their pace, and his finger rubbing against your clit was more erratic now too as he grew close to his orgasm. "H-hahh." He moaned, his teeth sinking into the spot where your neck and shoulder connect before he released, replacing the bite with kisses.

"Kento, y-you close?" You asked, your voice shaky and broken. You already knew his answer, but you knew how much he loved when you talked during sex. "F-fuck, yes. I'm not going to last much longer." He whined, trying to bury his face deeper in the crook of your neck. The feeling of him rubbing his face against your skin, trying to hide, trying to find comfort- it made you fall in love all over again. Just that little gesture showed how much he loved you, how safe he felt with you.

"Cum inside me Kento, get me pregnant, w-wanna make you a daddy." Nanami was sure his brain had short-circulated at that moment. He had no particular kink for that word, it was just the reality of the situation had hit him when you called him that. He was going to be a father, the father of your children. "Y-you drive me crazy, you know that?" He moaned, fighting back a whine when his cockhead rubbed against a particularly soft spot inside you.

Nanami kept aiming for that spot, noticing how tight you got when he did. "I-I'm gonna fill you up, fuck a baby into you, make us parents." He groaned in return, kissing your neck wherever his lips could reach. Your eyes rolled back in your head at the attention, he was touching all of your sweet spots inside and out, you weren't going to last much longer either.

"God p-please Kento, cum with me please." You cried, pulling his body closer to yours, using whatever strength you had left in your legs to squeeze around him. Nanami's thrusting grew more erratic, his pace got faster, sloppier, as loud groans and whines spilled from his lips before his hips stilled against yours.

Both of your jaws fell open as you came together. Nanami's hot cum flooding inside the deepest part of your cunt was just the push you needed to fall over the edge. Kento's hips stuttered and rolled into yours as he pressed himself balls deep, making sure his cum would get into your womb. His finger slowed against your sensitive, throbbing clit, which was starting to hurt from all the attention. 

The two of you gasped and whined against the other, holding onto each other for dear life as you rode the aftershocks of your orgasm out together. Nanami didn't stop moving his hips until he was sure he had fucked each and every last drop of his cum inside you, even fucking himself into overstimulation as long as it meant he was sure he got you pregnant. 

"Fuck... I'm so full." You whispered, sliding your hand between your bodies to press on your stomach. Nanami groaned through his teeth, the moan getting cut off halfway as he felt the pressure of your hand against his dick. Kento gripped your wrist when he felt his cum move around him, flooding towards the base of his dick. "Don't," He said quietly, his voice hoarse and breathy. "You're going to push my cum out. Need to keep you full." Kento said, almost cutely.

You smiled and placed your hands on his cheeks, making him pick up his head from the crook of your neck. "Ken, you came inside me enough to make 400 kids, I'm sure one of the swimmers will stick." You joked, but Nanami's face was stone serious, he wasn't going to take any chances. His lack of reaction only made you smile harder. You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his nose, a lasting kiss, one that transferred all the love you felt for him.

"Maybe if we're lucky we'll get twins," Kento said, the tips of his ears turning red at the thought. You shook your head and smiled, kissing him again, on the lips this time. "Someone's ambitious." You replied. "I wouldn't be surprised though. Seriously, you came so much. I don't think I've ever felt this full before." Nanami's face turned a deep crimson at your words, his eyes averting from yours. "What? Feeling shy now? After all that?" You giggled, watching how his eyes fell shut when you rubbed his cheek. He was like a cat.

"Are you alright?" Kento asked, ignoring your teasing. You nodded, wrapping your legs around his hips. "I feel perfect." You replied, smiling honestly at him. Kento sighed before resting his head on your chest. He practically purred when your hands started raking through his hair, scratching down the nape of his neck, and under the collar of his shirt, teasing his shoulders. 

"You should get those pants dry-cleaned." You said, not even wanting to look at the damage your sopping cunt did to them. Nanami made a noise of acknowledgment as his body relaxed against yours, his cock now fully soft inside you. "We should clean up sleepy head, need to change these sheets." You said, trying to act responsibly even though you too felt the tiredness creeping over your body. 

"Not yet, need to keep you plugged up. Let's just fall asleep like this." Kento suggested, snuggling against your chest, his hair tickling your chin. You rolled your eyes and shook your head as you stared at the ceiling. Who knew a man of Kento's age could be so childish? "I'm setting a timer for an hour, I wanna take a bath with you." You replied, raking your hands across his scalp. Nanami made a semi-coherent noise of acknowledgment, even though you know he didn't hear you.

You tried to reach over to the side table to grab your phone but Nanami's heavy body on top of yours kept you from getting very far. Sighing in defeat, you placed your hand back in Kento's slightly damp hair and began running your hands through it again, making the man hum in pleasure. You decided if he wasn't worried about it, you weren't going to be either. You were exhausted, after all, a little sleep after such a workout couldn't hurt.

When Kento felt you fully relax under him, submitting to his idea to just relax with one another, you heard his deep voice rumble your chest ever so faintly as he spoke, "You're going to be an amazing mother."

#jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader smut #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen nanami #kento nanami #nanamin #nanami smut #jjk nanami #jujutsu nanami #nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami x you #kento x y/n #jjk kento #kento x you #kento smut #kento x reader #jujutsu kento

[writingouthere]

bestfriendsbrother!Sukuna x pregnant!reader one-shot

summary: you're excited to finally share with all your friends that your pregnant when the party is interrupted by your best friend's older brother, who you didn't invite, but who you did have unprotected sex with less than two months ago.

cw: reader is pregnant, Sukuna is a bad dude, possessive behavior, minor smut, still as usual nicer than it sounds because I can't help it.

**************

"I'm pregnant!"

Your news is met with a period of silence before your friends look at each other, uncertain as to how to react.

Nobara finally breaks the silence, an eyebrow raised. "And we feel...."

"We're happy about it," you say and your friends are then quick to congratulate you. You hear some sort of scuffling happening behind you and you turn around to see Yuuji unfolding a "We're having a Baby!" banner which makes Megumi nearly jump out of his chair.

"Holy shit, did you two-"

"No!"

"Ew, no!"

Yuuji frowns at you. "The 'ew' wasn't necessary."

You and Nobara scoff. "It was," you tell him. "And I say that with all my love."

"Okay, so if this idiot didn't knock you up-"

"Hey!"

"-then who did?"

You'd been expecting the question and had prepared for it. "It was just a one night stand, he's not really father material." Everyone looks like they want to ask more questions so you smile at them, genuinely happy they all look ready to commit a crime for you. "It's okay, I have a good job and this is something I've wanted for a long time. This baby will be really loved because it will have me and, I hope, all of you."

Your friends are quick to agree and there's some lighter questions about potential names, nurseries and Nobara and Todo are looking at her phone debating baby onesies, when the door to you and Yuuji's apartment opens and someone you had definitely not invited comes in.

"Sukuna! You're late, you missed the big news," Yuuji calls out as he walks over and claps his brother on the back. A few people call out greetings as Yuuji's older brother looks around the apartment. His eyes linger on you for a second, a smirk tugging up on his lip before he notices the sign hanging crooked over the kitchen doorway and he laughs without an ounce of humor.

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me, you knocked someone up? You irresponsible piece of shit-"

"It's not his and don't kill him, you asshole," Megumi says from where he has now joined the onesies discussion and points over at you. "It's the other person who lives here."

Sukuna pauses from where he was about to murder his brother, to look back over at you. You wonder if his brain is doing the same cursed math that you had done when you were hyperventilating, holding a stick covered in your own pee, but before he could ask anything, Maki ended the silent stand off.

"And we're happy about it, so get happy you piece of shit."

With that, the party continues on, people breaking off until little groups and snacks being placed strategically throughout the apartment.

You're feeling thirsty, and a little exhausted from the burning stare that's been directed at you for the past hour when you excuse yourself from where Miwa and Mechamaru had been talking about their own future plans for children, who you're sure would be socially inept but gorgeous enough to make up for it, and made your way to the kitchen.

You were pulling out some water, no alcohol for you even though you really needed it, when you felt someone's presence behind you.

"So when were you going to tell me we were having a baby?"

"Never, because it's not yours," you answered firmly, slamming the door to the fridge for good measure. Sukuna leaned against the cabinet next to you but you'd known him long enough to see the pose for what it was. A ruse, a performance of casualness. The fingers on his hand tapped against his arm like he was playing the piano, one of the few tics he had that showed when he was feeling, well just feeling anything in general.

"Oh please, you're not fucking anyone else."

"You don't know that and we're not fucking, we fucked once. Singular, past tense."

He laughed and looked down at you, the same predatory look he'd had the night he'd helped you make this child.

"And once was all it took huh? Fucked you so good, you're going to have my baby," he says, voice mocking and he stands up to his full height which puts him over you. He takes the glass of water you're really regretting now, and places it on the counter opposite the two of you.

"It-it's not your baby," but you don't sound sure and he knows it and he presses up against you until your back is to the counter. Nowhere for you to run.

"It's mine, just like you're mine. I don't know who you think you're kidding with this denial of me but it's done now, sweetheart."

You go to answer him and Sukuna covers your mouth with his hand like the rude fuck he is and then leans down, his mouth next to your ear. You look around, worried someone might see you but the gap between the fridge and the counter conceals you both and the room next to you keeps getting louder and louder. The sun had set and there were maybe some lamps in the living room, but here in the kitchen it was dark.

"I let you have your space and your time, two months of it actually. I let you have your little moral crisis about fucking a criminal and it being the best dick you've ever had wah wah, but I was impatient before I knew you were having my baby, and now," he leans back so his eyes, and they're on fire his eyes, are level with yours. "I'm done waiting."

You tug on Sukuna's hand and he rolls his eyes before removing it from your mouth and places it on your hip which doesn't seem like a good trade-off but at least you can speak again.

"What does that even mean?" You ask him, your voice showing the incredulity you're feeling but if Sukuna had anything, it was audacity.

"I mean I'll give you a week to tell your friends you're having our baby and that we're getting married." He says it so seriously that you can't help but laugh which seems to be the wrong response when his other hand moves to your hip as well and squeezes, tight.

"We are not getting married, are you out of your mind?"

"Why not, we're already having a baby, are you going to deny me the ability to live with my own child."

"Still not your kid, and we can't get married Sukuna. We never even dated! We fucked one time, that doesn't mean we should just be together forever."

"We fucked for one night, it was more than one time-"

"Not the argument you think it is," you interrupt him but you still let him pick you up and place you on the counter. You sit there while he runs his hands up and down your thighs, the sounds of the party washing over the two of you as you stay in your little bubble.

"We'd be good together," he finally says. "Not just because I knocked you up on the first try." You hit him but he just smirks and moves his hands more purposefully on your legs. You let him pull them apart and step between them even though warning bells are going off in your head, telling you these are moves you'd seen before and they had led to you being in the predicament the two of you were debating in the first place.

"It's inevitable, the two of us. You can say you hate me, or that I'm not a good man, and that's true. But there's a reason why you've never stayed with any of those nice boys," he says and his hands slips up the skirt you're wearing to get at your bare thighs underneath. "Because you don't want a nice guy, you don't want a good man, you want me and I'm too selfish to let you keep torturing both of us by doing this pretending shit."

The fingers on his right hand press against your cunt through your panties while his other hand squeezes your thigh and he moans sinfully into the quiet air.

"God, I knew I didn't make up this warm, wet cunt. Been fucking my fist until I chafed the past two months just thinking about it."

You whimper as he moves your underwear aside and slips one finger up and down your slit, not touching your clit or going where you want him, but doing enough that you move against his hand.

"This does not mean that we should get married," you protest and he teases a finger against your opening, pulling it back when your hips tilt up in an attempt to get him where you want.

"Why not? I heard pregnant women get super horny, what are you going to do without me around to make sure this filthy pussy gets stuffed just the way she needs." He finally slips one finger in, his thumb moving to tease against your clit, just the way you like it and your head smacks back against the cabinet. He moves the hand that had been on your thigh up so he can cradle your head.

"I'm sure I could find someone willing to help me out," you say scoffing and his hand freezes which makes you whine a little and try to get him to move again but his legs limit your range of motion.

"You ever try to fuck someone else ever again and the coroner is going to have to get dental records to figure out who the dumb fuck with no fingers, no eyes and no cock is, you got it?"

He's not joking, you know he's not joking but it doesn't stop you from leaning forward until you finally get your lips on his. He hums into your kiss, cupping your cheek in his free hand while the other one goes back to opening you up. You're so wet that the kitchen fills with the sounds of his him finger fucking your cunt but you can't even find it in yourself to be embarrassed. He's not wrong that pregnancy has made you more sensitive, or maybe it's just you not having gotten laid since the two of you had slept together.

He's got three fingers in you when you come and he swallows your moans greedily with mouth while his fingers slow inside of you, curving just right to make you think you could probably come again soon, oversensitive or not.

Before you can test that out, he pulls away from you. He licks the fingers he pulled out of you clean and you you're reminded of how the last time he'd made you come twice just with his mouth.

"Where are you going?" you ask him, a little more breathless than you like.

"We are going home," he tells you, grabbing your hands and helping you down off the counter. Giving you a kiss on your forehead that you would tease him for if you were anyone else.

"Home?" you ask, confused because you are currently standing in your apartment unless his orgasms suddenly give one the power to teleport.

"Yeah, our home, not the shitty apartment you share with my brother. I mean we'll have to get somewhere bigger soon, for our baby."

For the first time since you found out you were pregnant, someone who was not you laid out their palm on your still just the same stomach. There was no change from how it always looked but Sukuna looked smug just the same and you felt like you were still missing a few things.

"What-"

"I mean I can fuck you here, I just thought your sensibilities and the fact your friends were all out there would make you uncomfortable."

Your post orgasm flush finally leaves you and you look up at him in panic. "Oh my god, do you think someone saw-"

"It's okay, Fushiguro kept them out I'm sure."

You don't want to know but ask anyway. "Why?"

"Because he walked in earlier and looked like he'd seen a ghost. Tell me, is the kid still a virgin? He's pretty but I can't imagine he has a lot of good options in your crowd."

When you leave to go to Sukuna's, the only people who don't look confused(or horrified in Yuuji's case) at your departure are Maki and Megumi.

If the confusion hadn't been cleared up by the time the baby came, the pink hair probably answered any follow up questions.

dealing with some writer's block and had this idea. didn't feel like writing a whole smut scene, my b but saving that energy for the next(?) neighborsukuna x singlemom one.

side note: Megumi is scarred for life, for sure. Yuuji gets over his horror once he's an uncle.

#jjk sukuna #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #jjk x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #jujutsu sukuna #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk smut

[sh1-n0bu]

♡︎ 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙘𝙠 𝙢𝙚 𝙪𝙥! ♡︎

characters: sub!big men x nb!dom!reader

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, breeding, creampie, slapping, hair pulling, size difference, rough sex, strap/cock traditions, feminization like a lot, mentions of lactating, just dumb big sub men getting fucked stupid<3

notes: thinking with my clit rn… divider by @/reveriesources

big men! who can’t help but feel something swirling in their stomach every time they see little children going around, clinging to their parents, excitedly chattering on and showing their proud work

big men! who can’t help but imagine what it would be like to have your own children. you two have been together for long enough now, he guesses it should be time to bring up the topic of children and raising a family together

big men! who absolutely adore children despite their large physique and threatening appearance. and children love them in return and so are you with children as well. he sees it as an absolute win-win. you both love children and they love you two back. it would only be normal to want a cute family together, right?

big men! who nervously bring up the topic of children one day after a nice homemade dinner. he speaks in stutters and stammers — uncharacteristic as he fiddles with his hands, looking down at his lap. what if you weren’t ready? what if you turn down the idea? what if you don’t even want children to begin with?

big men! who let out a sigh of relief when you reach out, your smaller hands covering their own as you sooth his worries. who smiles in sheer utter joy when you say you want children as well

big men! who later into the night get absolutely wrecked. legs shaking, voice hoarse from all the moaning and screaming. mind delirious, barely hanging on a thread as his glossy eyes look at nowhere in the room. who can’t help but let out a shriek when you enter him again. big and thick cock hitting his sensitive spots, making him squeal and thrash around on the bed until you pin him down with your weight

big men! who cry and blabber about being too goddamn full. who talk about your cock fucking his insides, rearranging his organs. who deliriously smiles and lets a drunken giggle slip when he feels the small bump in his stomach from the sheer size of your strap and cum mixed together

big men! who drool on the sheets when he can feel you slap his ass. the sting feeling so damn delicious, he couldn’t help but ask for more. to slap his ass and squeeze and fondle his tits until they’re all sore, red and lactating

big men! who lets out a weak pathetic excuse of a whine when you cum deep inside him for the nth time that night, legs spasming from the feeling of your hot seeds painting his walls

big men! who get fucked until their mind breaks, blabbering and slurring about how you were fucking his womb now. how he can feel your tip bruising his cervix and that you’re gonna knock him up

big men! who eagerly push you down, straddling your lap when you mischievously ask him to ride your cock since you’re so damn tired

big men! who rides your strap happily, his own cock repeatedly hitting his stomach as he sinks down on your strap again. the sheer amount of cum dribbling down your shaft, his thighs and making a mess

big men! who place a hand over the small bulge on their stomach. lust hazed smile on their face as they slur out words of getting pregnant. who blabber on and on so cutely about finally starting a family with you. who giggles when he feels you cum inside him again, saying he wants to make sure that his womb gets filled to the brim, wanting to carry your children even though he doesn’t even have a womb

big men! who whine when you try to tap out, too exhausted to continue. but he wants to! he wants to make sure you fuck your cock deep inside him, pushing past his cervix walls and cum inside him over and over till he gets pregnant!

big men! who fucking squirts. weak and limp cock spurting out pathetic excuse of droplets of cum before shooting blanks, pushing his red ass flush against your hips to make sure you don’t pull out. who lets out the loudest fucking scream when your hand gently yanks his hair, pushing his face into the pillow to muffle his noise as you continue to ram your cock inside him

big men! whose moans and whimpers turn so high-pitched, so weak, so girly as his whole body spasms and shakes under you like a weak fawn. who keep daydreaming of a cute domestic life with you and your kids together in his cotton filled brain

big men! who are just fucked dumb. not a single thought or an imagination in their mind as they simply lay there. take, take, take and take until you two finally tap out. you, too exhausted. him, exhausted, with a sore throat, with old and new tear stains on his cheeks, drool slipping down his lips with a shaking body. who passes out after you cum inside him for the nth time

big men! who dream of starting a family with you. the two of you with a cute child or a few more since he was such a big family man. the kids running around, the two of you watching them with a smile as the two of you make dinner together

big men! who wakes up all sore and exhausted the next morning. they’re absolutely drained and even trying to speak hurt

big men! who can finally move around after a while. who place a hand over his stomach before realizing the bulge is gone since you have already did an aftercare together after he passed out. who feel a growing sense of great sadness as their eyes brim with tears and their lips quiver

big men! who shake you awake with a sense of urgency, asking you to hurry and wake up. when you finally do, you’re greeted with the sight if your lover with tears in his eyes

big men! who complain, hiss and even cry as he stammers about not being pregnant. who take your hand in his own, squeezing your hand slightly with a pout on their face, “you should have knocked me up! i wanted a baby with you! did you.. not want a baby?”

big men! who cry crocodile tears when they realize that they can’t get pregnant after you explain it to them. mind still too fucked dumb, brain filled with nothing but statics and cotton. who literally sobs in desperation when he realizes he can’t get knocked up by you

big men! who sniffle as you turn their face to look at you. who finally starts to calm down when you assure him with a smug smile that you will continue to fuck your cum inside him over and over until he finally gets pregnant. isn’t his partner just lovely?

➯ jing yuan, blade, gepard, dan feng, sampo, welt yang, argenti, wriothesley, neuvilette, diluc, itto, childe, capitano, kaveh, thoma, baizhu, zhongli, dainsleif, rock, hajime sugoroku, kenshirou yozakura, musashi, samon gokuu, liang, qi, yamato godai, mitsuru hitokoe, sinbad, masrur, spartos leoxses, kouen ren, koumei ren, muu alexius, cassim, armakan amun-ra, yunan, judar, murial, julian, diavolo, beel, mammon, satan, simeon, solomon, raphael your faves♡︎

#nobu.writes #sub genshin impact #sub genshin #sub hsr #sub honkai star rail #sub obey me #sub magi #sub nanbaka #sub arcana #sub!genshin #sub!genshin impact #sub!honkai star rail #sub!hsr #sub!obey me #sub!magi #sub!nanbaka #sub!arcana #sub character #sub!character #genshin x reader #hsr x reader #the arcana x reader #obey me x reader #magi x reader #nanbaka x reader #dom gn reader #x dom reader #dom reader #dom!reader #gender neutral reader

[planetpiastri]

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader [no faceclaim, reader is faceless] summary: yn and lando are couple goals around the mclaren garage, but they don't want oscar to feel left out. the problem? oscar would very much like to be left out. notes: school has finally released me from its chokehold so i'm doing my part in filling the winter break void. part 2 of my logan smau is in the works, but in the meantime, here's this<3 enjoy!

liked by landonorris, mclaren, and others

ynusername recent stuff (following my two favorite boys around like a stray puppy)

view all 1,659 comments

mclaren Always a pleasure to have you in the garage! 🧡

landonorris nyoom

ynusername vroom, even

username1 always a good day when yn refers to lando and oscar as her favorite boys

oscarpiastri Thanks for buying me dinner 👍🏻

ynusername you're welcome kiddo 🫶 oscarpiastri Please don't call me that

mclaren

liked by landonorris, ynusername, and 211,329 others

mclaren pookie #1 and pookie #2 dump (📸 - ynusername)

view all 3,789 comments

username2 WHO PUT THE ADMIN UP TO THIS

oscarpiastri Why would you say that

username3 im cackling this had to be yn's idea

landonorris pookie and proud 💪

username4 everyone say thank you yn for taking cute pics of our boys

ynusername you're welcome 😁

ynusername

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris, and others

ynusername let! him! cook!!!!!

view all 1,802 comments

username5 oh my god that is so much fire

oscarpiastri Do NOT let him cook I repeat do NOT let him cook

landonorris it was fine you big baby nobody got hurt 🙄 oscarpiastri I'd sure hope so??

username6 yn and lando are kind of unhinged together omg

username7 and that's why we love them 😌

mclaren Please bring our driver back to the paddock in one piece! 😬

landonorris all that fire and you were still the hottest thing in the kitchen 🥵🥵

ynusername 🤭🤭

landonorris

liked by oscarpiastri, ynusername, and 738,899 others

landonorris actually can't think of a better way to spend this life 🤍

view all 6,038 comments

username8 CAPTION IM IN TEARS 😭😭

username9 where's my credit for sending you the video lando

landonorris how many times do i have to teach you this lesson old man?? 👊💪

maxverstappen1 Too sweet

ynusername you're my everything 💌

landonorris you ARE everything oscarpiastri And Lando's just Ken landonorris this guy gets it

maxfewtrell Happy for you or whatever

username10 glad to know i'm not the only one crying over that video of lando and yn

georgerussell63 Don't worry I am too alex_albon me too carlossainz55 Me three username11 yo??

username12 help there are so many drivers in the comments 💀

oscarpiastri

liked by logansargeant, ynusername, and 179,025 others

oscarpiastri Hanging out with Mum and Dad 👍🏻

view all 2,078 comments

landonorris she started crying when she saw this btw

oscarpiastri Sorry? landonorris don't be, it's the pregnancy hormones ynusername I AM NOT PREGNANT DELETE THIS BEFORE THE WAG PAGES START POSTING

username13 ok but does oscar need a step-sister i wanna be part of this family

ynusername love u kiddo 🥹🧡

username14 oscar liking this comment oh we've come so far from when he used to tell her to stop calling him that oscarpiastri I've stopped fighting it

tagging: @sonder-paradise hey girl<3

request: hiii, could you do a smau similar to ‘heart eyes’ but with lando and oscar is the suffering third wheel? -from anon

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #f1 #f1 smau #f1 social media au #f1 x reader #instagram au #f1 imagine #lando norris imagine #f1 instagram au #social media au #lando norris au #oscar piastri #saturn writes

[babygirl-riley]

Welcome Home

You surprise Simon at the base instead of being at home. You also think about how far he has come to acceptance.

Warnings: mentions of sexual acts, fluff, dad!simon, angst, pregnancy

“I’ve fallen for it, I’ve fallen for it somehow.”

A/N: THE PART TWO DAD!SIMON FROM @ave661 IS KILLLINGGGG ME! Seriously chokehold she has me in ALL the time with her art. 😭

simon x reader guide

simon x reader family edition

You called Price beforehand, asked him if it was alright to surprise Simon. You wanted to show up at the base with your baby girl waiting for him. Like you always do. Thankfully and full heartedly he agreed, he even added that he is excited to see his niece. On the way to the base you felt excitement as you played music for both you and your baby.

Your baby gabbles as she plays with hanging baby toys on her car seat. Simon has been gone for a month, it has been so long and you were so excited. He missed having her first tooth, which he will be so excited to see.

Once you got you and your child out of the car you headed to the inside of the base. “141 will be landing in 5 minutes ma’am.” A man said guiding you to the tarmac. “Captain Price said to meet them there.”

You followed the solider to the direction of the tarmac. You knew very well where it was at, a year ago you were on the team for 141 but decided to retire once you found out you were pregnant. Memories littered the hallways as you held your baby close.

“No.” He mumbled as you both stood in your room. He didn’t move for a moment, you thought he was going to leave and not come back for hours. Simon doesn’t do well with emotions but the last couple of months, he has been able to open up more. Now this. You didn’t know how he was going to react let alone what he was going to do.

It was clear, two lines, one word, 6 tests. You and Simon have been in secret for 2 years, established a relationship in a year. You played with your hands as nerves started to kick in. “I thought you were on birth control.” Simon said looking up at you, his eyes only to be shown. The skull mask looking at you.

“I am.” You said your heart slowly hurting, you knew that he never wanted a kid. You knew of his past so this was a joke for the both of you. It was frowned upon when a lieutenant would be sleeping with their sergeant. Hell damn near court marshaled.

Simon looked back down at the tests. He can’t. He won’t. His mind racing a million miles an hour. How could he explain this one to Price? How could you hide a belly on the force? Is there a way for it to be a secret anymore? He cursed himself for loving the fact that he could breed you. It was a new found kink, with him thinking of his cum coating your walls. Simon never broadcast it to you. Telling you that seeing a belly got him feral, thinking about how your body would react to his gift. But…It’s just…is it too soon? Was he ready? Surely he couldn’t be.

“I can get…”

“No,” He cut you off before looking up at you. “This…Not that. ‘M,” his voice trailed. No abortion, he won’t put your body through hell just because both of you didn’t want to wrap it. “I just-I don’t know what to do.”

“I don’t either,” You whispered walking slowly up to him. “But we can figure this out?”

Simon nodded once still looking at the tests. You waited as he stood there and sighed. “We have to tell Price now.”

“Here is the tarmac,” The solider said breaking you from your thoughts. “It looks like they have just landed.”

You mumbled a thank you as soldiers came out one by one from the plane. All covered in dirt or blood, tired written on their faces. You frowned knowing that Simon felt the same, it couldn’t have gone the way it suppose to.

You smiled as you walked out watching Gaz come out first, happy surprise on his face. He looked to the side of him to see Soap, who smiled at you nodded. Price smiled, heading towards the direction you were before stopping. Simon, walked out last, almost stopped in his tracks.

Smile beaming on his face underneath the skull mask. His girls. He be-lined to you and your baby girl. His heart beating quickly, as excitement coursed through his veins.

Price stood as both of his teammates broke the news. He had his suspicions of them fucking around but not together. He itches his beard as your tears start to mellow out. Simon was not looking at him but folding his arms while leaning against the wall.

It was like two of his kids came home after school to get hounded at. It was amusing if Price wasn’t angry. Yes. He was at first, his lieutenant and his best sniper in a bit of a bind. She has to be discharged no way will Price NOR Simon let her go out in the field. Especially since they voiced they are keeping the kid.

“We keep it low,” Price finally spoke watched as both of you looked up. “We have to slowly discharge you, not try to have eyes on the situation until then. No missions for you.”

You nodded, first time every has he seen you so shy. Timid. Usually you had confidence written all over you. “Yes sir.” You mumbled looking away.

Price looked at Simon. “I want to have a discussion with you,” He looked at you as you stared at him. You both are young, younger than him anyway. He seen how Simon’s demeanor changed throughout the years when you came on the force. Of course no one else saw it, but Price did. He always knew. “Dismissed Sargent.”

Your baby squealed with delight as she bounced in your arms. “Da! Da!” She yelled as Simon walked over, having heads turn to see the little baby showed her excitement. Simon did take note that she knew who he was and in fact used ‘dada.’

Simon almost damn near sprinted as he walked up to both of you. You let him take your baby as he grabbed her, she screamed laughed, as he rose her to the air. Holding her sides gently but firm. She is so tiny compared to him, she kicked her feet softly in the air, laughing her little head off. Simon loves that sound, the sound of pure joy coming from her. To the point he didn’t give a damn who was around them. Simon was never a shower when it came to his private life, but when she was around wow, he would make sure everyone knew who she was.

Simon sat across the table from you, your bump more noticeable, 6 months to be exact. He still couldn’t believe that what was growing inside you was his. Part of him. Something that he would have never thought would be done. Or have. You have become more aware and accepting of having the child. Yet he still hasn’t.

“I know it will take time Si,” You said knowing always what he was thinking. Simon snapped his eyes up at you, he felt guilt for sure. You were just honorable discharged and he stayed in the force. “I can’t make you feel happy about this. But…But I know eventually you will.”

He didn’t believe you until one night he laid between your legs as you rubbed the back of his head. Simon chuckled lightly at the tv show you were both watching right when it happened,felt a small poke to his head, he froze, you felt him tense. “What…what that?”

You giggled lowly as you rubbed your belly. “It’s the baby,” He still didn’t move when he felt it again. “She moves a lot when you make any sort of noise.” Simon rose slightly, looking up at you, curiously. You grabbed his hand and placed it where she was. His eyes trained on his hand. “Say something.” You whispered.

Simon looked at you unsure before clearing his throat. “Uh, hello baby girl.” It took a second before he felt the bump move to his hand. A soft graze. He snapped his eyes up at you and tears brimming your eyes, nodding. Encouraging him to continue. Simon’s eyes started to water, everything hitting, even when she isn’t out here she was wanting him. Knowing that he is her dad. And she was his baby.

His hand rubbed your belly. “‘Ight ass kicker. I’m happy to hear ya too.”

“Hello my angels,” He said as slowly held her close to him. Her head cradled inside of his neck. Her hands gripping his uniform. He placed a hand on the back of her hand holding her close. You smiled as he placed his other gloved hand on your cheek. “Why ya ‘ere?”

“I couldn’t wait at home,” You stated as people passed the both of you. “She couldn’t either,” you bumped your shoulder against his. “Told you it was dada.” You teased talking about the last time you both were on the phone. Her screaming ‘da da da,’ knowing damn well it was her daddy on the phone. Simon would tease and say that she got your intelligence since she was only 5 months.

Simon chuckled rolling his eyes, turning his head as she rose from his shoulder. She started towards his skull mask gripping the bottom of it. “Not yet sweethear,’” he whispered gently grabbing her hands. “We are gonna debrief it shouldn’t take too long.”

“Lass,” You laughed as the scottish came up from behind Simon. Slapping his back. “Oh well hello little miss.” He scratched softly underneath her chin. She laughed again shaking her head as she clung onto her dad. “Yer playing hard to get now?” He teased and looked at you.

“Hey Johnny,” You laughed reaching for your baby. She came to you with ease, which you mentally sighed in relief, hoping that she wouldn’t ball her little eyes out when she watched her dad leave. “We will wait on the cafeteria.”

Simon placed his forehead against yours. “It will be quick.” He whispered.

You nodded as you watched them all file into the base. Your baby holding onto you cooing. “Why don’t you ever get that excited to see me,” You playfully glared poking her stomach. She giggled swatting your finger away. “Brat.” You laughed taking her and you to the cafeteria.

#Spotify #simon ghost riley #call of duty modern warfare #simon ‘ghost’ riley #simon riley #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #ghost #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x female reader #simon ghost riley x wife!reader #dad!simon ghost riley #dad!ghost #daddy!simon #dad!simon #literally being fed with this dad simon

[capricornlevi]

inevitability- nanami x f!reader

tags: friends to lovers, salaryman!nanami, breeding, unprotected sex, fingering, missionary, mating press, creampie, mild cumplay

cw: alcohol (all sex sober & consensual!), pregnancy mentions, rough but v v consensual sex, reader and nanami are both in their late 20s/early 30s

word count: 5.3k

a/n: in which your decide with your good friend of many years that it's time to get you pregnant <3 this has been festering in my brain and i know it's pretty different than what i usually write but ! here it is! ahh! sounds of me screaming!

//

"this is weird, y'know?" you blurt out, watching as nanami hangs up his jacket by your front door before settling down beside you on the couch. he keeps a respectful distance, resting his hands on his broad thighs and smoothing down the fabric of his slacks, clearly nervous. "this is very, very weird. like, weird at levels i don't think people have achieved before."

"i know," nanami replies diplomatically, as if he could be anything but excruciatingly aware of how unconventional this is. "are you having second thoughts? because i completely understand --"

you shake your head abruptly. "no, no, just ... thinking aloud, i guess. just getting used to this, because it's really ... um ..."

"weird?" nanami offers helpfully, and you turn to nod.

"weird."

because what else do you call agreeing to have a baby with your platonic friend of 10 years?

you first met nanami on the second day of college and knew right away he'd be a good dad, even back when having kids wasn't even a consideration for you. it was obvious; he was already a good dad back then, with how he looked out for his underclassmen even as he progressed through his degree. how he stayed sober when he knew people would be going overboard, not sleeping until you texted him to confirm you'd gotten home safe after a party.

he helped you study at the weekends and, in return, you provided him with a discount at the local cafe where you worked. through this time spent knocking back americanos and proofing each other's work, you grew close.

even with all his responsibility and good sense contrasting your exuberance and recklessness, you found yourself enjoying being with him. and he could be funny, too, delivering sharp and witty quips when you least expected it.

you became inseparable. insufferable, some would call it; the matching-halloween-costume type of insufferable, a borderline codependent but obliviously happy friendship that can only be fostered on a college campus.

then right after college, when you had dived straight into your quarter-life crisis and dyed your hair every colour under the sun, got piercings in too many places, slept with questionable people and dated some even worse, nanami had gotten himself a decent, impressive, well-paying job. it was a job that had him wearing tailored suits at 23, paired with fancy glasses that cost more than your rent, and you'd laughed at him, at how serious he looked. but you also worried at how the bags under his eyes grew deeper and darker, how the amused lilt to his voice started to dissipate as time went on.

his 9 to 5 turned to an 8 to 6, and then he was working weekends and skipping movie nights, missing out on meeting new boyfriends of yours, fading into the periphery of your life with you unable to do anything about it.

as with all relationships in your twenties, it was hard to stay in touch. the higher he climbed up the career ladder, the further you grew apart.

soon, it was only on holidays or birthdays when you both would reach out, cordial and civil but achingly unfamiliar.

then, on your twenty-ninth birthday, drunk at a bar and having taken a couple minutes away from your raucous friend group, you had stepped outside to grab some fresh air only to walk head-on into nanami's firm chest.

you had spluttered apologies, lifting your head to see who you had headbutted, only to find your old friend looking down at you with an amused look on his face.

and just like that, things picked up where they left off. you spent the night talking, catching up over drinks and laughter.

with a tone that was only half-teasing, you had asked him what brought him out tonight -- it was hard enough to get him to come out for drinks when you were both in college, much less now with his big fancy job.

but he had laughed in that gentle, airy way you'd heard a thousand times, explaining that he had been out socialising with clients who had just left minutes before. he was just on his way out before running into you.

perfect timing. painfully perfect.

you stayed talking until last call, making exhilarated promises to get in touch the next day.

and to your surprise, you both actually stuck to that.

in the ten months since then, you've met up every sunday for breakfast at your favourite cafe. over lattes and freshly baked croissants, you fill each other in on the details of the half-decade spent apart. he had a serious girlfriend, serious to the point of moving in together, but she'd gotten spooked and left him last summer to go travelling. he was hurt, obviously, but understood her perspective in that annoyingly calm, measured way that is just part of his nature.

and on your end -- despite the drunken circumstances in which you'd been reacquainted, which is all part of moderation, after all -- you've actually calmed down considerably since your early twenties.

you have your own apartment. you have a rescue cat you care for immensely, even when he tries wriggling out of your arms to go stare out the window at passing cyclists. you have a retirement fund, started yoga, learned to bake your own bread.

you're not boring, you still have fun and let off steam whenever you can, but you're having the sort of revelations about life that nanami seems to have had years ago.

fun is good. fun is important. but it can't be everything, because then it starts to come at a cost.

truthfully, the birth of your nephew is what prompted you to make some changes. you didn't want to show up to babysit hungover. you wanted to have funds to hand in order to treat him to little toys and sweets when your sister allowed it, and soon found yourself amazed at how his little face lit up every time he saw you.

it made you grow up, and fast.

in the course of your cafe hangouts, you had mentioned your nephew to nanami. showed pictures of the boy's pudgy little hands reaching for the camera, told stories of how he could tell the difference between new episodes of Bluey versus reruns, and how he's changed your entire life without even realising.

soon, talk about your nephew turned to general musings about your own future.

then one night, when you decided to switch your meetup location from the cafe to a cocktail bar, you shared something that you had barely admitted to yourself.

you wanted to have a kid.

this realisation wasn't borne from some crisis about entering a new decade, it wasn't something forced on you by others or general societal pressure. it was something that grew organically, inspired by the honour of watching your little nephew grow up.

to your surprise, nanami didn't scoff or dismiss you. you figured he'd have rolled his eyes, laughing off your confession since you weren't in a committed relationship.

instead, he expressed similar sentiments, but for slightly different reasons.

"i'm sick of work being my whole life," he had mused quickly, sipping an old fashioned with a funny look in his eye. "it was only when we started hanging out again that i realised how much of my life I've wasted at a place that wouldn't care if i lived or died."

"do i need to be worried about you having the type of rebellious streak the rest of us went through ten years ago?" you asked, smiling and fidgeting with one of your rings without thinking.

he waved off your suggestion with a fond roll of his eyes. "i'm not impulsively quitting or anything, don't worry. just want to take a step back, i suppose, or find something with shorter hours. i just think there's more to life than endless hours slaving behind a desk."

you toasted to that sentiment, knocking back the last of your cosmo.

nanami continued, watching you set your empty glass back down with a soft grin on his lips. "the whole family, kids thing ... i get it, you know? it makes sense."

"yeah?" you pried carefully, interested to see where this is going.

"i'd be lying if i said i didn't think about it, too. i have a nest egg saved up which means i'd be able to take time off to help with a kid, to actually be there to see them grow up. and it's not that i want to have one just because i think i need to -- i think i'd be decent at it, y'know? the whole parenting thing."

you obviously agreed. you'd thought the same for a while now, and getting reacquainted with the man has only spurred on those thoughts.

he really would be perfect.

the issue wasn't discussed further that night, but it was brought up again at coffee the following sunday, then at the bakery the week after that, and before long, it was your birthday again.

after a massive party with all your friends and family -- and a little too much wine -- nanami had stayed behind to help you clean up, because of course he would, and you got to talking again, got to revisiting that topic that had been at the back of both of your minds.

you can't remember the exact wording of the discussion or how many bottles of prosecco fuelled the conversation, but what you do know is that when you sobered up, you didn't regret agreeing to it.

you were gonna have a kid together.

you and nanami.

coparenting.

as outlandish an idea as it might seme on the surface, when looking at it a little deeper, it made sense to you. this wasn't decided on a whim. this was something that had momentum building behind it for months and months, perhaps even years, without you even realising.

when meeting up for coffee the following week, you both gave each other an out. said there'd be no big deal if things were called off. but neither one of you took it, despite laughing for what felt like hours about how bizarre it all felt.

still, no sign of backing out.

which brings you to tonight, the agreed-upon date of when you'd start trying.

nanami had suggested using artificial fertility methods if that made you more comfortable, but you politely turned him down, thinking it unnecessary. he wasn't a stranger -- plus, you'd be lying if you said he wasn't objectively attractive -- so if he had no objections to trying things the old-fashioned way, then you didn't either.

and he obviously didn't mind too much since he's now here on your couch, folding his arms and then unfolding them as he waited for you to make the first move.

he looks good, despite all the nerves. he's filled out over the years, though he was always strong, with every muscle in his body well-defined and perfectly proportional. his hair is still blond but with the faintest specks of grey, his skin brighter and more well-rested than that night you got reacquainted.

his deep brown eyes stay fixed on you and your skin heats as his gaze traces over you.

"do you want me to kiss you?" you break the silence, the words tumble messily from your mouth.

he looks taken aback, as if this was something he'd vaguely considered but never thought would actually happen.

"do ... do you want to?"

his earnestness has you smiling, cutting through the tension, and you meet his eyes properly for the first time since he arrived tonight. he always has this way of making you feel comfortable, his presence alone is like an embrace that calms the racing thoughts that constantly occupy your mind.

it's only now that you're close, so close, you realise that maybe you really do want to --

"i wouldn't suggest it otherwise," you murmur softly as if your heart isn't hammering against your ribcage, shifting nearer to him on the couch but keeping that last bridge of distance for him to close.

his tongue swipes over his lower lip, almost subconsciously demonstrating his wishes as his line of sight drifts down to your mouth. he nods then, dipping his head, only a couple inches of space between you now.

"yeah -- yeah, okay."

you can see how his pupils dilate as you reach out to slip his glasses off, setting them down on the coffee table, cupping his face in your hands.

he returns your smile at that gesture, just the slightest hint of nerves in his eyes that disappear when he finally decides to press your lips to yours.

his lips are softer than you imagined ... though until this very moment, you hadn't even realised that this was something you had imagined.

he lets you set the rhythm but doesn't shy away; he meets your movements, your energy at every kiss, letting you stop for a moment to adjust yourself as things progress.

this should feel weird, right? you should have some lingering feeling of awkwardness at making out with your best friend, at taking his hand in yours and setting it down on your thigh to show you want him to touch you?

this was supposed to be a relatively unromantic event, after all. it wasn't meant to be the start of anything. though it was never clinical or unemotional -- you're technically starting a family together, after all, if an entirely unconventional one -- you never foresaw it going down like this.

this feels like something that was meant to happen.

he pulls back ever-so-slightly, lips still grazing against yours as he asks softly, "this okay?"

you nod by way of answer, not wanting to waste another second not kissing him. nanami captures your lips with his again, and with renewed enthusiasm, slips his tongue into your mouth, probing gently and barely hiding the low rumble of a groan deep in his throat.

all thoughts of propriety start to fade into the ether. his hand on your thigh burns hot, shifting up and down the exposed skin. you'd worn a nice dress for the evening, unsure of the dress code for an event as strange as this, but you find yourself grateful for choosing something that fell so far above the knee.

his hands are rougher than his lips but not in an unpleasant way. you figure it's from his only out-of-work hobby that doesn't consist of hanging out with you; his renovation group. nanami is part of a volunteer organisation that helps build and renovate houses for those in need -- as if he couldn't get any more painfully perfect, obviously.

you stay like that for a few more minutes, exploring these new sensations and becoming increasingly more aware of the ball of anticipation burning in your lower stomach. everywhere he touches you feels warm, every soft nip against your lips feels electric.

then, against every instinct in your body, you force yourself to pause to take a few steadying breaths. nanami responds in the same way, pulling his hands back to his own thighs, adjusting his stance on the couch.

he's hard, you can see as much from the awkward way he shuffles in his seat. not to mention the bulge very obviously visible in the front of his slacks -- just seeing it fills you with want, with the need to touch and be touched.

this is moving more fluidly than you had expected, arriving at each decision without a second thought. in that vein, you decide to ask:

"want to head to the bedroom?", hoping you don't sound as desperate as you're feeling. "if you're ready -"

"yes," he responds before you've even finished your sentence. you feel grateful that the eagerness is not one-sided as you get to your feet, taking nanami by the hand to pull him up with you.

when you've reached your room and the door is shut behind you, revealing the modest set up of your freshly-made bed and a single scented candle -- any more than that felt a little too forced, too awkward -- you marvel at the feeling of nanami's hands on your hips, somehow gentle and firm at the same time, manoeuvring you onto the bed with a pre-rehearsed confidence that never verges on forceful.

your head hasn't even hit the pillow before he's kissing you again like he's starving for it. it's messy this time, the gentle exploration from before giving way to something more primal and urgent.

you have to remind yourself that this is your nanami you're kissing. the nanami who was there for you through the most painful college breakups. the nanami who knows your coffee order, who helped zip up the back of your graduation dress.

but now, with his tongue against yours and the stiffness pressing against your stomach, all you can think is why you didn't do this sooner?

just as you're about to combust underneath him, he pulls back, balancing himself on an elbow as his eyes flick down to see how your dress is bunched at the top of your thighs. he closes his eyes, his breaths ragged and unsteady.

"i don't know how--" he whispers, tongue gliding over his kiss-slick lips, "how ... technical you might want to go about this."

you let out a little laugh, craning your neck to kiss his jawline so he knows it's not at his expense.

"i never really thought about the technicalities, but it doesn't have to be too clinical, or anything. i know you, you know me. we can just ... have sex."

"have sex," he repeats slowly, eyes open again, the hint of a grin on his face.

"yeah, have sex!" you answer with a chuckle. "or is there another way you'd like me to phrase it?"

he laughs then too, looking at you again as he shakes his head softly.

"what?" you press him with a mock indignance. "it's rude to laugh at my suggestion, actually. i felt it was pretty accurate."

"i'm not laughing at you," he says gently, lips still curved upwards. "just ... i must have pictured you saying those words a thousand times, and i never thought it -- it's just funny to hear out loud, is all."

it takes you a second to fully comprehend the words as they wash over you.

you'd be ignorant to say that the realisation never dawned on you, but it was something you thought was a relic of your college years. he had blushed a few times too many whenever the topic of sex came up at parties, had a hint of jealousy in his voice when giving advice about one particular ex-boyfriend. at your apartment complex's winter party in senior year, you can tell he was thinking about kissing you.

but that was when you were young and naive, inexperienced with life, and the thought of this nanami desiring you, of picturing you in his life, of imagining what you'd look like spread out underneath him like this --

you lift your head and grab his shirt collar, yanking him in for another kiss. when he's settled back against you, your hands weave down to unbutton his shirt. you feel him smile against your lips as he starts to unzip your dress in return.

you're a mess of limbs as items of clothing get strewn across your bedroom carpet. before long, it's all skin-on-skin, the heat of his body pressed against yours before he grabs your waist and flips you over until you're straddling him.

you feel the length of him pressed against your stomach, hot and painfully hard, but from the way he cups his hand against your neck and starts to kiss your throat, you know he's not going to rush this.

just as you gasp out his name as his teeth nip against your pulse point, he brings his other hand to the apex of your thighs, fingertips resting just over your pubic bone, barely brushing against the sensitive skin.

"want me to touch you?" he mumbles quietly against your throat, the way his breath fans over you making you shiver.

you nod pitifully, hips canting towards him, but he doesn't budge.

"need you to say it," he says low, quiet, thumb shifting down by the millimetre, "need to know how much you want it."

"i want it," you gasp, the arch of your back deepening the closer he gets to your aching core, all concerns about appearing desperate evaporating with every press of his lips to your skin. "i want it, kento, p- please touch me."

nanami obliges, fingertips trailing down until his thumb is brushing over your clit. he slides his hand lower, fingers slipping through your damp lips, and then uses your own wetness to start rubbing you in earnest.

any form of articulate thought slips from your mind, replaced with only those that can get you more of this -- nanami's fingers playing with your clit, the other hand possessively resting at your nape, his cock pressed between you with precum beading at the tip.

you want it in your mouth. you want it inside you, and as you go to shift your hips, nanami shifts his back.

"want to see what you look like when you come first," he says, slipping his middle and ring finger inside you as if to prove he's going about it the right way.

and he really is, because after only a few strokes of his fingers, your vision is getting hazy. you've never been this turned on so quickly before, never felt this desperate, all-consuming urge -- but then again, you've never had a man look at you like this before now either.

you try to focus on the sensation of his fingers stretching you open, his thumb still stroking your clit in the perfect rhythm, but your mind wanders to the thick cock pressed up against you. you want to rub against him, let him fill you up, make him feel good too --

but looking at his face now, pupils blown and lower lip raw from biting down on it, you can tell this is as much for him as it is for you.

less than a minute later it hits you, the explosion of warmth radiates out to every cell in your body, rendering you a boneless mess in nanami's arms.

he holds you as the aftershock subsides, strong arms keeping you steady even when your legs feel as though they've turned to jelly. when you feel capable of supporting yourself, you slide ungracefully from where you were perched on his thighs and fall back against your pillows, head spinning blissfully.

nanami leans down next to you and kisses your forehead, whispering words of praise that fill you with a strange sensation you can't quite place.

"want to take a break?" he ask after a few moments have passed, "or if you're tired, we can try again later --"

"no," you cut him off, turning your head to look at him directly, face splitting into a smile through the post-orgasm haze. "i just need a second is all, i still -- if you want to --"

"i do."

and so to ease yourself back into it, you kiss him slowly, intimately, bodies gently intertwining as he shifts closer to you on the bed. you guide his hands to your chest, gasping as his thumb circles a nipple.

"you're just ... beautiful in a way i don't really have words for," he mumbles, watching you squirm pleasurably under him.

"nanami kento lost for words? a first time for everything," you manage to quip through it all, earning a pinch of the other nipple that turns your laugh into a moan.

"we've plenty more firsts to get through tonight."

at that, nanami shifts halfway down the mattress and gets to his knees, hands gripping your thighs as he spreads them open. he takes his cock in his hand and slowly drags the head through your folds, up and down but not yet penetrating you, appreciating how you're almost sucking him in, the eager way you pull back your legs to accommodate him.

he stays like that for a minute. every time you think he's about to sink in, he holds himself back as if transfixed by the obscene sounds that come from playing with your pussy, of using you to stroke himself off.

he looks to be on the verge of a choice, like his brain is fighting between two options: taking you slow and gentle like you deserve, or sinking in and fucked into you desperately, filling you up until he knows he's bred you, that you're his and only his.

you soon glean that he wants you to actually say it out loud, wants to hear those words he's fantasised about for so long.

"fuck me, kento."

now utterly unable to hold off any longer, he heeds your request, lining up and thrusting inside you in one fluid motion.

it's a pleasant stretch; he's still careful to let you adjust to his size but you're soon relishing the feeling of being so full, and the fucked-out grin on your face spurs him on.

his hips shift back inch by inch until he's almost fully pulled out, letting out a low groan as he sinks back in again, and at that, he knows he's a goner, completely lost to the feeling of his entire length buried inside you.

this is nanami at his most possessive, fucking into you as you're caged in by his strong arms, your knees now pulled back as far as they'll go. the skin on the back of your thighs is raw from your nails digging into them but you don't care, single-minded in your aim to keep the head of his cock brushing against that perfect spot inside you.

your shoulder blades press into your soft pillows as you try to keep from writhing too much, wanting with all of your might to avoid upsetting this perfect rhythm.

above you, nanami's perfect cheekbones are flushed, his brows knit tightly together, your silky walls wrapping tight around his cock in a way that's driving him to the brink sooner than he'd like. against all better judgment, he slows down just slightly, allowing himself to indulge in the sensation.

"you take my cock so well, y'know that?" he mumbles in between quiet grunts, "with that pretty look on your face when i fill you up... you're trying to kill me, i swear to god."

you both laugh breathlessly before yours breaks off in a moan, slurring his name as he speeds up subconsciously. he presses his lips to every inch of your neck, jaw, collarbone, thrusts unrelenting but never too much.

if you weren't already aware of how soaked you are, the slick sounds of his cock sliding in and out of you provide more than enough proof, melding with the soft squeak of your bedsprings to just about cut through the muffled sound of your moans.

your body now guided more by instinct than intention, you slip your hand down to where your hips are pressed together, two fingers circling the swollen bud of your clit. the angle of his ruts means his cock grazes your fingertips as he pulls out, the desperate rubbing of your hand between your legs spurring him on.

"still want me to come inside you?" he says then, strands of hair coming loose, sticking to his forehead, "want me to fill you up?"

you nod feebly -- the answer clearly not sufficient in itself, since he leans in, pressing his forehead to yours as he meets you for a wet, messy kiss. continuing his question with his lips still touching yours, he asks;

"want me to take care of you? want to be my pretty wife, hm, wanna -- fuck -- wanna be mine, yeah?"

you slur something unintelligible, focusing on the second orgasm gathering quick and hot in your core. you lose your grip on your thighs and fumble to pull your legs back up.

nanami helps to hike your legs back up -- but not in their original position. instead, he guides them until your ankles rest on his shoulders, and after taking just a second to press a kiss to your calf, he sinks back to the hilt. feeling him bottom out, your vision nearly goes white; this new angle allows him to slide in so deep it's practically splitting you open, so deep you can tell he's serious about breeding you.

somehow, the sensation remains just shy of too much -- it's not too much of a stretch or causing too much sensitivity -- it's more than you've ever taken but you honestly feel you could stay like this forever, taking nanami's cock like you were made for it, with him looking down at you with a mixture of reverence and pure lust.

you want him like this for the rest of your life.

"i'm gonna need you to answer, cos I'm pretty close," he half-pleads as if reading your mind, his voice deep and strained, firm chest heaving as the thrusts get messier and less coordinated.

though your mind is near-blank and your lungs feel they can't get enough air, you manage to mumble a "fuck, yes. want -- want you to come inside, kento ... please."

that last word tips him over with you following almost immediately after, clenching around his cock as you feel him pulsing inside you, feeling more full than you've ever felt in your life. his head tips back as he cums, moaning beautiful praise you can just about make out, strands of sentences about you being the only one he wants taking his come, about how he's going to keep fucking you full for as long as it takes.

sparks of electricity reverberate through your body, hips pushing against his as you ride out your orgasm, pretty little whimpers harmonising with nanami's continued praise.

you stay like that for what seems like forever, basking in the wave of pleasure that's just swept you away effortlessly.

everything is just ... warm. purely and blissfully warm. the warmth of his hands still gripping your legs, the warmth of your own breath fanning over your sweaty chest, the warmth between your legs that starts to dribble down the backs of your thighs when nanami pulls out.

for good measure, nanami uses two fingers to push some of his come back inside, grinning as aftershocks pulse around the digits.

you lower your tired legs to rest on the mattress, thighs aching from being bent practically in half, but it's easy to disregard any physical exhaustion when you feel this level of contentment.

nanami's arms are soon wrapped around you, pulling you to rest on top of his chest where you spend some moments of perfect silence.

you can hear his heart beating in his chest, skipping a beat when you angle your head up to meet his gaze again.

"well?" you ask, a smile imbued in your words. "still lost for words?"

"just thinking about how every second of this was worth waiting for," he replies without missing a beat, eyes crinkling at the corners as he watches how his answer flusters you.

with one hand behind his head as he rests of the pillow and the other wrapped around your shoulders, nanami looks more relaxed than you've maybe ever seen him.

this is a man who looked on the verge of a nervous breakdown when you reconnected less than a year ago; he's almost unrecognisable now, the dark circles under his eyes have faded, his face filling out a bit more, the smile on his face entirely genuine.

and in this moment you feel a burst of clarity, a sudden realisation that's eluded you since that first night you met in college.

maybe -- just maybe -- you're as good an influence on him as he is on you.

#nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami kento x reader #may tries to write #oh lord #im not even going to tell you how long i spent drafting this bad boy #please join me in the brainrot please

[joelsgreys]

flutter

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Pregnant! Female Reader

snapshots masterlist

summary: When you finally start to show, Joel has a tough time with it as the reality sinks in—he’s going to be a father again.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. (TW) PREGNANCY. established relationship. no mention of reader’s age, however in other works for this universe, it is implied she is younger than Joel, her specific age will never be stated so do with that what you will. brief descriptions of a pregnant woman’s changing body, brief mention of morning sickness, mention of breastfeeding (it only comes up in a conversation very briefly) these subjects can possibly be triggering, especially mentions of a changing body, so while i try to handle everything with the utmost care, i still ask that you proceed with caution. domesticity, reader enjoys taking care of her family, ellie is a little shit, grumpy joel, he’s sort of a dick at first? but only because he’s working through some feelings so let’s forgive him, okay?

word count: 3.5k

a/n: this is part of the snapshots universe, but it could absolutely be read as a standalone too. minimal editing, this has been sitting in my drafts and i did a quick edit during my lunch hour, so please excuse any mistakes.

“Shit.”

You almost can’t believe your own two eyes. Staring at your reflection in the large, oval shaped mirror hanging over the porcelain bathroom sink, your gaze widens in complete surprise. “Jesus Christ,” you mutter, turning to the side. It takes your brain about a good minute or two to process, really process, the way that your belly strains against the thin, white cotton of your camisole. It had seemingly swollen overnight—because it hadn’t been this prominent the day before, had it?

Over the last few months, there’d been changes.

Some subtle and some not so subtle.

“Ellie! Stop fucking staring at them,” you’d scolded the teenager late one evening during yours and hers weekly game night. For as hard as you tried focusing on what move you should make next, it was hard to concentrate on the chessboard in front of you when you could feel the way her eyes were fixed on your breasts. “I mean it! Quit staring at my boobs, you little shit.”

She held up her hands, her mouth full of popcorn.

“Hey, in my defense, they’re just fucking there, man. If anything, they’re fucking staring at me, okay?”

During your chess rematch the following week, you had accidentally knocked one of your pawn pieces off of the table. When you’d stood up and bent over to pick it up, she had made the observation that your butt seemed to have gotten a little bigger too.

“Bet Joel’s liking these changes,” Ellie had smirked. “It sure as hell explains why the headboard’s been banging against the wall more than usual lately.”

You threw the pawn at her, smiling in satisfaction when it bounced off her forehead and landed into her glass of lemonade.

One part of your body, however, hadn’t changed.

Not until now.

“Hon, trust me, you have nothing to be worried about,” Maria had assured you with confidence when you had brought up your concerns about your stomach. “Every woman, and every pregnancy, is different. I didn’t start showing until I was around six months, remember?”

“I guess you’re right.” You’d been around four months, then. “Doesn’t help that I haven’t felt the baby move.”

“You will,” Maria had promised. “Just be patient”

Biting your lip, you place a hand on your belly.

It’s always been one of the softer parts of you, but now, it’s firmed into a perfect, round bump.

“Maybe soon I’ll feel you move,” you murmur, giving it a gentle pat. You tug the lace hem of your camisole down as far as it can go and then pull at the elastic waistband of your blue, terry cloth shorts.

Shutting off the lights in the bathroom, you slip out into the bedroom where you find that Joel’s still tangled up in the sheets, fast asleep. He had been assigned to the afternoon patrol route today—normally an early riser, if he was still snoozing, it meant that he really needed the rest. Deciding it was best to let him keep sleeping for a little while longer, you quietly tiptoe out of your shared bedroom and head downstairs into the kitchen.

After making yourself a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice, and one for the kid as well, you prepare the coffee maker for Joel. You spoon dark roast grounds into the filter and set the timer for the coffee to start brewing in thirty minutes.

He should be up by then, you think, pulling a basket of eggs out of the refrigerator.

You’re starting to get used to this. Domesticity.

Despite your protests, Maria had made the decision to pull you off patrol that same afternoon you had shared the news of your pregnancy. “I’m putting you on leave,” she’d told you. “Effective immediately. I don’t want to see you outside of these walls. Got it?”

“That’s not fair, Maria. You were out on patrol until—”

One stern glare from her had shut you right up.

“Fine.”

Sure, you missed it and looked forward to the day when you’d be able to get back into the saddle with your rifle in hand, but this way of life had grown on you. Certainly a lot more than you thought it would.

You enjoyed taking care of the house. Packing Ellie her lunch for school and checking her homework. Having a nice a meal on the table for the three of you to enjoy in the comfort of your own home instead of having to go down to the crowded mess hall for supper because you and Joel were both always much, much too tired after a long day out on patrol to bother with cooking.

With the baby due to arrive in the winter, looking after your little family had become your purpose, and you did not mind it one bit.

As strips of bacon sizzle in one pan on the gas powered stove, you crack a couple of eggs into another, knowing the kid is already on her way downstairs. You can hear the sound of her old, tattered low top sneakers that you have been trying to throw away for almost a year now squeaking on the kitchen tiles just as you finish plating her breakfast.

“Morning!” Ellie pipes, the loud plop of her backpack into a chair prompting you to turn around. “What’s for brea—whoa! Holy shit!” Her brown eyes widen in shock when she sees you and her jaw drops. “Dude.”

“Ellie,” you say her name warningly as you walk over to the table. “Don’t.”

“You’re bigger!”

With a playful glare, you set her plate down, along with her glass of orange juice. “Thanks a lot, you little jerk.” You feign offense. “You’re making your own eggs from now on.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Ellie’s cheeks flush a shade of red and she squirms, sputtering apologetically, “I swear, I don’t mean it like that at all. It’s just, your stomach, it didn’t—you didn’t look like this last night, you know?”

She’s fucking lucky that your raging hormones decided to take the morning off duty.

“You look different. I mean, you look great—”

“Ellie?”

“Yeah?”

“Just shut up and eat.”

“Deal.”

She shoots you a sheepish grin and sits down, scarfing down her food in her usual manner. 

“You get your fractions homework done?”

“Yeah.” Ellie huffs, rolling her eyes. “Took me forever. I was up until fucking midnight.”

Amused, you offer, “Want me to check your work?”

“Sure.”

As Ellie inhales the rest of her breakfast, you pull out a green, single subject notebook from her backpack and look over her homework for miscalculations.

“So, uh, how are you feeling?” she asks after a minute.

“I’m feeling alright. I think the morning sickness finally stopped, so can’t complain.” Shrugging, you close the notebook and stick it into her backpack. “You did good, kid. Only got two problems wrong.”

“Man, I really wish we knew whether it’s a boy or girl,” Ellie mumbles through a mouthful of scrambled eggs. “What do you want to have, anyway?”

“It doesn’t matter to me, Ellie,” you answer, honestly. Clocking the skepticism on her face, you laugh and say, “It’s true. As long as the baby’s healthy, that’s all I care about.” And you mean it. As an expectant mother in the post outbreak world where medicine is scarce, supplies are limited, and the closest thing you have to a hospital is the town’s old clinic, the only thing you can hope for is the smooth, safe delivery of a healthy child.

Before she can say anything, you both catch the sound of Joel’s heavy boots as he descends the staircase.

She quirks an eyebrow. “Uh, has Joel seen you yet?”

Grimacing, you shake your head. “No.”

“Well, I don’t wanna be here for all that awkward,” Ellie says, chugging the rest of her orange juice. She stands up and snatches up her backpack, along with her lunch bag, which you’d packed for her earlier that morning. Just as she’s about to whirl around on the heel of her sneaker and make a run for the front door, she pauses, watching as you make your way back over to the stove to light another flame. “Unless you want me to be?”

“I’ll be fine, Ellie,” you assure her. “Go on, get to school. Maybe you’ll be on time to class for once.”

“If you say so.” She wishes you luck and then bolts out of the kitchen, throwing a quick goodbye at Joel on the way out. “See ya later, old man!”

Nervously, you turn around and start cracking another two eggs into the pan. There’s no telling how he’s going to react.

Joel’s been fairly supportive since you’d found out you were pregnant, considering how unplanned it was. But you know him like the back of your own hand, and you know, despite the numerous times he’s denied it, that it has been weighing heavily on him. Each time you’d try to sit down to talk to him about it, he would brush you off and insist he was fine. But he wasn’t fine.

And you wish he would spit it out and tell you why.

In your periphery, you notice the stained glass butterfly he had hung in front of the window above the sink, the ornament catching and refracting the sunlight. Flecks of color dance across the walls in captivating patterns, brightening the space. You think of the sweet little girl he’d hung it for, the little girl he rarely talks about, that he keeps tucked away safely in his memory.

You bite back a small sigh.

By now, you’ve learned not to push him. Especially not about what he was feeling. He would tell you when he was ready.

“Who the hell lit a fire under her ass this mornin’?” Joel asks gruffly as he walks into the kitchen. “She ain’t ever this fuckin’ eager to go to school.”

“Not sure,” you reply in the most nonchalant tone you can muster as you use a spatula to scramble the eggs. Transferring them onto a plate, you add three strips of bacon, and then pour his coffee. “I have your breakfast ready, Joel. Have a seat.”

You hear a chair scrape against the tile.

“I keep tellin’ you I can make my own breakfast, darlin’.”

“And I keep telling you I don’t mind making it for you,” you quip, and you hear him grumble something under his breath.

Inhaling a deep, calming breath through your nose, you take the plate of eggs and bacon in one hand, and his cup of coffee in the other. Your fingers grasp the handle of his ceramic, owl mug in a near death grip. You exhale slowly, and then turn around to face him.

He sees your swollen middle and stiffens in his chair. 

The tension is instantaneous. Palpable.

Uncomfortable.

Awkwardly, you shift from one foot to the other.

“Your belly,” Joel murmurs, a visible tick in his jaw as his gaze drags over your midsection. “S’bigger.”

“Yeah. It is. Guess I’m going to have to start trading for maternity clothes soon,” you remark, shuffling over to the table. Setting down the plate and mug of coffee in front of him, you take a seat across the table. Your eyes try desperately to meet his, but they refuse. There’s no way for you to decipher what he’s thinking. You let out a small, nervous laugh. “Can you please say something?” 

He lightly clears his throat. “I’ll take you to Main Street on Saturday,” he tells you, picking up his mug. “I’ve got the day off from patrol. I’ll, uh, pick through some of my own things and see what I don’t need so we can make a trade for some clothes.” He pauses, then offers quietly, “In the meantime, you can wear my shirts. They might be more comfortable for you.”

You flash him a grateful smile. “Thank you, Joel.”

Sipping his coffee, he continues to avoid your gaze.

“Mhm,” is all he says.

Your smile falters.

It’s the middle of August.

The afternoon heat is sweltering. Unforgiving.

“Jesus, it’s a fuckin’ scorcher,” Tommy sighs, glancing over towards the lake where his mare, Maxine, is taking a drink beside his brother’s stallion, Phoenix. His raven curls are damp with sweat, plastered to his forehead. “Hotter than the devil’s fuckin’ balls out here, ain’t it?”

He’s met with silence.

Looking over his shoulder, he sees Joel leaning against a tree, his rifle in hand as he stares at the Grand Tetons in the distance almost like he’s in a trance. “Joel?”

Blinking furiously, Joel shakes his head. “Sorry, you say somethin’ to me just now?” He asks in a daze, pushing away from the lodgepole pine. “We headin’ out?”

“You’ve been actin’ real strange all afternoon,” Tommy observes, walking towards him with his own gun slung over his shoulder. “Either the heat is startin’ to get to you, or you’ve got somethin’ on your mind, big brother.”

Joel hesitates. His dark eyes flit to the other side of the lake where the other members of their afternoon patrol group are refilling their canteens with water.

“S’alright,” his younger brother says. “Don’t worry ‘bout them. Can’t hear us.”

Joel’s chest heaves with a heavy sigh. “She popped.”

“Huh?”

“Her belly finally popped. She’s showin’ now.”

Amused, Tommy lightly shakes his head. “Y’shouldn’t be so surprised, Joel. Was ‘bout time,” he remarks with a shrug. “What is she—like six months along now?”

“She’ll be six months in a couple weeks.” Joel wipes the perspiration off his brow with the back of his hand and sighs once more. “Look, I ain’t stupid, Tommy. I knew it was bound to happen sooner or later, but it still caught me by surprise. When I saw her, it became real for me. She’s got my kid in there. I’m gonna be a dad again.”

“You’re scared.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement.

“Shitless,” Joel confesses, feeling his chest tighten. 

“What are you afraid of?”

Joel almost laughs.

He doesn’t know where to start.

He’s afraid of everything.

“All of it, Tommy. I’m afraid for her, havin’ to give birth with no medicine,” he tells him, his voice breaking. “I’m afraid I won’t remember what to do with a newborn or that I won’t know how to help her durin’ those first few months—”

“This ain’t your first rodeo,” Tommy reminds him. “You did it once, and you did just fine, Joel.”

“That was over three fuckin’ decades ago. And it was a different world. If Sarah—” He stops, taking a second to catch his breath. The image of his daughter’s little face flashing in his mind feels like a violent punch to the gut. Even after all this time, it still knocks all of the wind out of his lungs. “When her mom had trouble breastfeedin’ her, I could head to the grocery store and buy her baby formula. If she got a real bad fever, I could load her up in the truck and drive her to the emergency room.” He glances down at his broken watch. “Besides, I was a lot younger, then. And I wasn’t half fuckin’ deaf like I am now. When Sarah would wake up cryin’ in the middle of the night because she needed a diaper change, I’d hear her. What if I can’t hear my own kid cryin’?”

“Joel—”

“I’m in my fifties. What if I can’t keep up because I’m too fuckin’ old?”

Tommy reaches out, clapping a hand onto his shoulder.

“Brother, I need you to take a fuckin’ breath,” he says, chuckling softly. “You’re puttin’ the weight of the world of your shoulders right now—you need to put some of it down. Look, we might not have everythin’ we used to before the world ended, but we make do with what we do have. Considerin’ just how many growin’ families we have and how many little ones we’ve got runnin’ around our town, I’d say it’s workin’ out pretty fuckin well.” He gives his shoulder an encouraging squeeze. “And as far as your ability to be a good dad, you’ve still got it, Joel. You know what to do, and so does she. I’ve seen her in action with my little boy, and it seems like she’s already got those maternal instincts, y’know?”

“Yeah, she does,” Joels agrees quietly, thinking of how you had stepped up to help him care for Ellie.

“Trust me, between the two of you, it’ll be alright.”

He peers at him. “You really believe I still got it in me?”

“I do.” Tommy smiles. “You never stopped knowin’ how to be a father, Joel. You’re gonna be just fine.”

Their patrol shift extends into the evening, turning into a double, and it’s late when he gets home. 

“What the hell are you still doin’ up?” Joel asks when he finds Ellie sitting at the kitchen table, cursing to herself as she flips through the stale, yellowing pages of an old life science text book.

“What does it fucking look like, man?”

“Shouldn’t have waited until the last minute, kiddo—”

Ellie holds up a hand and cuts him off.

“Save the lecture for another time, dude. I’m busy.”

Joel rolls his eyes. “Finish up and get to bed. S’late.”

Without waiting for some smartass response, he turns on the heel of his boot and then heads upstairs to your shared bedroom. He flips on the lights only to find that you’re already in bed, fast asleep, wearing nothing but one of his t-shirts and a pair of panties. He toes off his boots and leaves them by the door, being as quiet as he possibly can as he rummages through his top drawer for some clean boxers to sleep in.

He slips into the bathroom where he takes a quick, hot shower, scrubbing off that day’s sweat, dirt, and grime. After he’s dressed and his sopping wet, salt and pepper curls are haphazardly towel dried, Joel walks back out into the bedroom where he switches off the lights and climbs into bed next to you.

He lays on his side and he’s just about to close his eyes when he feels a light shift beside him. You roll over and curl into him, your belly pressing up against his curve of his spine.

He stiffens, freezing as if someone had just placed the barrel of their pistol against his back, their finger over the trigger.

Christ, get a damn grip, he thinks silently to himself.

Joel thinks about that morning in the kitchen.

He knows his reaction had hurt you. Or rather, his lack of a reaction. His shitty ways of coping aren’t your fault, and his struggle to come to terms with your pregnancy sure as hell isn’t your fault, either. He owed it to you to try harder to be the man you needed.

The man you both needed.

Joel’s train of thought comes to a screeching halt when he feels a soft flutter against his middle of his back, the spot right where your tummy is nestled—did the baby just move?

He lies still, waiting to see if he feels it again, and when he doesn’t, he rolls over to face you, causing you to stir.

“Joel?” you mumble his name, sleepily. “What time—?”

“Shh,” Joel soothes, pulling you into his bare chest. He kisses your temple. “S’okay, baby. Go back to sleep.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice.

Within seconds, you’re asleep again, snuggled into him and snoring softly.

Lifting a hand, he hesitates, then rests it on your belly.

He waits.

And waits.

And waits.

And waits.

Until the minutes turn into hours.

Until dawn’s light filters in through the lace curtains. 

Until he finally feels that little flutter again.

He feels it against the palm of his hand. Faint, nothing more than a brief whisper against his skin, but there is no mistaking it.

He’d just felt the baby’s movement.

There’s a sudden shift.

Tense muscles that had been painfully wound up since the moment you’d mentioned to him your period was a week late back in the spring loosen slightly—the breath he had been holding since he’d picked up that positive pregnancy test from the bathroom counter finally falls from his lips, fanning over yours.

His fears, his worries, his uncertainties about what lies ahead, they’re all still there, of course, but he finds they are now accompanied by a glimmer of hope, a sliver of optimism that maybe, just maybe, Joel doesn’t have to be as afraid as he is.

Joel’s eyes glaze over your face, warmth radiating in his chest when you breathe a little a sigh of content in your sleep as he gently rubs your stomach through his shirt.

With his hand still splayed over your belly, he closes his eyes and begins to drift off, falling into the most decent sleep he’s had in the last few months.

Maybe his brother’s right.

Maybe he will be just fine.

divider credit to @saradika 🤍

#tw pregnancy #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x pregnant reader #joel miller one shot #joel miller drabble #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #fic: snapshots

[antheshewro]

Una mattina - Chapter 3.

It took a cup of tea and a stop on a local café to make Levi learn how Hange, his partner perhaps for life, hid something big from him. Something as big as another person, and a baby, involved. Perhaps going out that day had been a mistake.

✩✩ There I am again!! sorry for the late update but life is a thing and shit happens i guess... i have the entire story ready so lmk if you want another chapter this week! xoxo ✩✩ PS: thanks so much to everyone who read it, liked it and even sent me a message, it means a lot especially bc english is not my first language and it's the first ff i post!! y'all are amazing ♡

Lawrence didn't respond, nor looked at him. She knew, from the very beginning of their conversation about Hange and the minute they met in that café, probably. She still couldn't blame him, but his words were cutting deep. She was the one to carry on with a pregnancy alone. Not Levi.

Several minutes passed, and with them, the nightly sky took the place of the sunset. The living area was dark, no lights on to illuminate the place. Lawrence hoped Levi would leave her alone, once for all. He was still sitting on the sofa, not moving or budging. But Levi didn’t need lights to see. He always moved around in darkness. His eye adjusted itself with relative ease.

Lawrence’s words still rang in his ears. She was carrying the baby of the woman he loved. Her choice over him. Why her? Why not him? He still felt anger coursing through his veins. So much so that he decided to take a step closer. He stood up and moved towards Lawrence. He wanted to leave, to be left alone, to not hear her voice. But he couldn’t just leave like that.

Lawrence, however, didn't move. Her grip around her legs tightened, and just for a moment, she could feel the baby giving her a subtle kick. It wasn't the first time she'd catch it, yet she didn't feel the same happiness she shared during the very first time it happened. Now her pregnancy felt like a weight on her shoulders. Her eyes closed just for a second, and let a quiet breath out of her lips. The living room was completely dark now, the moonlight being the only source of light from outside. The entire house was so silent, it felt like it was empty.

Levi leaned down in front of Lawrence, taking one of her hands in his. He wanted to see if he could feel the baby kicking as well. His eyes stared straight at her, a silent look telling her that he’d been hurt by this. Even if the baby wasn’t his, he felt like it should’ve been and couldn’t help but think about what his and Hange’s child would’ve turned out to be like.

He still felt hurt, angry.

“I hate you.” He said again. “I hate you.”

Lawrence felt her hand being lifted up, yet she didn't bother to look up at his face, nor she acknowledged his proximity, even if she could feel and hear his breath being very close to her. Her gaze was still looking at the starry night through the window. It made her feel like she was just existing in that chair. The burden of having someone dear to her passing away, carrying their legacy along with her, yet enduring such treatment. Levi's words were like dust in the wind for Lawrence.

“It should’ve been me.” Levi said, loud enough for Lawrence to hear. A small hint of desperation in his voice that seemed to catch his own attention, before it all turned back into his regular and plain tone. “But no, it had to be you, right? The woman she chose,” He spat out suddenly. “And why couldn’t it have been me?” He growled the last question.

Lawrence, at that point, snapped her head back towards Levi and yanked her hand away from his grip. As if something switched inside of her mind, she got up and took a step towards him, with a scowl appearing in her face. “All she talked about was you. Levi here, Levi there,” She hissed, raising her voice as she continued speaking. “And I was the woman who got to be the side chick while she never mentioned me to any of her friends. Not even you.”

Her index finger pointed at herself, pressing on her chest as she spoke. Lawrence's voice was close to a yell. “There was no space for me, ever. Only you.”

Levi took a step back from her with wide eyes, a bit surprised with her sudden change in tone. He felt his anger building up inside of him again, although he quickly regained his composure to hear Lawrence out, and once he did, he stayed quiet, thinking about what she had to say and her words hurt him more than he could’ve ever imagined.

“So you blame me for it?” Levi whispered softly, as if he felt ashamed of himself for letting this happen to Lawrence. As though it was his fault. “Is that it?”

Lawrence looked up and down at him as he spoke, shaking her head just so slightly before she took a small step back, staring at him with the same scowl she had before and a stern gaze in her eyes. Her hands were clutching the fabric of her dress, before one of them got lifted up and pointed at the door.

“Leave.” She said simply, without giving any further explanation to that simple word. Her heart felt like it was ready to jump out of her chest in a matter of seconds. “I'm done with your behaviour.”

“You’re asking me to leave?” Levi asked calmly, his eyes watching Lawrence carefully. He couldn’t help but chuckle softly as he saw her pointing towards the door. “Now you want me to leave?”

He took a small step towards Lawrence as his gaze remained fixed on her face. “After you dragged me into this mess, told me about the child you and Hange were expecting, and blamed me for everything afterwards?” He paused, then took another step towards her. “After you were the one who let me stay in this house?”

Lawrence took a step closer to Levi, their proximity making their foreheads almost touching in he process. Both their warm breaths kept hitting on each other's faces, making their skin a little red because of it. Her arm lowered and went back to the side of her body, looking into his eye with the same insistence he had in his gaze.

“I don't blame you,” She whispered, her hand still clutching the soft fabric of her lounge dress, fidgeting with it. “The baby was unplanned. And I told you Hange never knew about it because I found out after she died.”

Leaning in close towards Lawrence, that look in her eyes made his heart skip more than a beat. He couldn’t take his eyes away from her, even if he knew this was most likely a bad decision. Before she could say anything else, Levi placed his hand softly on her bare thigh and stepped closer still, his head getting as close to her belly as he could.

“Let me hear the heartbeat.” He said softly and with a look in in his eyes that nobody other than Hange had ever seen. Lawrence grabbed Levi's hand and placed it on top of her swollen stomach, while her free hand gently pressed on one side of her belly, as to make the baby move. It didn't take long before it moved, and after a couple of minutes it kicked right next to Levi's hand.

“I told you about the baby because you deserved to know,” She quietly said, feeling the baby going on with its subtle kicks inside of her womb. “I was just a fling who got pregnant. You were always Hange's first choice.”

Levi’s eyes widened at the sudden baby movement inside of Lawrence’s womb, a smile creeping onto his face at the soft kick he could feel. A kick from the child he would’ve had with Hange. He pressed his cheek and his ear against Lawrence’s belly, wanting to feel the moment too. His eyes were closed tight, though, as if it were some kind of dream.

“Let me hear it again.” He whispered gently, looking back at Lawrence.

Lawrence gently caressed her belly once again, massaging it in certain spots where she knew the baby would feel it the most. Like clockwork, it began to kick again and move around her womb, as to tell the two of them it was awake.

Even though Levi's reaction was nothing but pure happiness, her own words made her heart heavy. Lawrence was just a side woman for Hange, that unborn baby was just her offsprings. She was never important in the first place.

Levi smiled as soon as the kicks came again and placed his hand, his palm flat on Lawrence’s belly, where he could feel the baby moving around. He then looked right into Lawrence’s eyes.

“I should’ve been here with Hange,” He said with a sigh, as if he wanted to be upset that Lawrence had stolen his moment with Hange. “Not you.” But he wasn’t upset, even if he told himself that he was. His other hand was placed at her waist, pulling Lawrence close to him.

Levi probably didn't realise how his words kept hitting Lawrence as a knife stabbing her repeatedly, yet he continued to reiterate the same thought over and over again.

Lawrence felt her heart aching as time passed, which made the baby move a bit more. As if it knew his own mother was feeling sad. Her lips pursed, one hand gently caressing her swollen stomach as she looked down at it. The more she felt uneasy, the more the baby would kick Lawrence. A small gesture that made her feel less alone. Levi saw how his words affected Lawrence and wanted to keep going. He wanted to see her feeling terrible like that again and again.

“It shouldn’t be you.” He whispered at her, his body now touching Lawrence’s in more places than before. He felt her breathing in his ear and was breathing out softly himself, feeling her warm breath hit his neck.

“You were a one night thing.”

Lawrence's free hand went back to clutch her dress so tightly, her knuckles became white. She wouldn't have been upset on a regulae day but Levi's words, combined with her hormones, gave her a feeling she experienced a very few times in her life.

Her lips began to tremble and quickly pushed Levi's hand away from her body. Lawrence walked towards the stairs of her house, sitting down on the last step, breathing in and out as she covered her mouth in the process. A faint gulping sound escaped her throat, trying to calm herself down.

Levi watched as Lawrence walked away, her shoulders shaking slightly, as if she was going to cry or break down. He looked away for a few seconds and took a deep breath. He then followed her down the stairs and sat down close to her, his breath hitting her neck and cheek as he spoke.

“Why should you get to be a mother and I’m not?” He whispered harshly, looking right into her eyes. “Why should you get to love someone when I couldn’t?”

Lawrence could feel hot tears spilling from her eyes, running down her face and cheeks. The baby kept kicking and she had to caress her belly to make it calm down, breathing in and out to relax herself. Levi's proximity to her body was making it almost impossible. His words, however, made her furrow her brows.

“You wanted to bear a child?” She repeated his own words, as if she was trying to make some sort of sense out of it. “Then get a womb and a vagina.”

Levi took the arm that caressing her stomach and leaned it to her side. It could’ve been his arm caressing her womb, feeling her kicking baby inside. “I wanted to be with Hange,” He whispered softly, his warm breath hitting her face. “Have something between me and Hange made. A family.”

Silence engulfed the already silent house before Levi spoke again.

“We were meant to spend the rest of our lives together.”

And he wanted no one else to be there but him, no one else in Hange’s life but himself.

Lawrence got up again, and abruptly walked down the stairs, leaning on the iron railing as she tried to calm herself down in the process. All the kicking was making her nauseous, but never as much as Levi's behaviour. Yet, she still couldn't get properly mad since stress was gonna affect her pregnancy.

“I'm gonna have this baby and you're gonna keep it,” She spat out at some point, turning her face and glancing up where Levi still sat. “And you'll have your son or daughter.”

He sighed and walked back up the stairs, his eyes on Lawrence as he walked up to her and grabbed her arm. His face was stern as he leaned her against the wall, looking her right in the eyes and forcing her to listen to what he had to say. “But you won’t be the mother.”

He went on harshly, his hand now holding Lawrence’s stomach as the kicks from the baby could be felt again. “I will be. You’re just the woman that Hange chose to get knocked up.”

Lawrence nodded and wiped her tears, with a loud exhale, sniffling up a little as she moved towards the front door and opened it fully, standing on its side as she looked right into Levi's eye with a stern, yet hurt glance.

“Now leave,” She repeated what she previously said, although her tone had a more warning note on it. “I need to rest.”

Levi stared Lawrence down for a few seconds, as if he was expecting her to change her mind in the last second. But when no more words came out her mouth or when her expression remained the same, he had nothing else to say. He wanted to be the one telling Lawrence to leave, but his silence was just that.

He watched as she opened the front door and took her place beside it. Levi then took a few steps backwards, staring at her before walking out of the house, his words and tone stern.

“I will still be the one raising the baby.”

#attack on titan #aot #levi x reader #levi x hange #levihan #levi x oc #hange x oc #post war aot #levi x pregnant!reader #hange x pregnant!reader #aot x ooc #aot ooc #levi x pregnant!oc #pregnant oc #hange x pregnant!oc

[mphountitled]

𝘽𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙣 & 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩

: ̗̀➛ Mattheo Riddle x Fem!reader | Brief!Harry Potter x fem!reader

: ̗̀➛ Summary: Jealousy makes the heart grow fonder.

: ̗̀➛ Warnings: Alcoholism, Dark!fic, Ravenclaw!reader, Bullying, Unrequited Love, Shy!reader, Toxic Relationship, Jealousy, Narcissism, Weaponizing!Harry (sorry boo), Fluff, A bit of Angst, Smut +18 (Minors DNI), DubCon, Semi Public sex, Unprotected Sex, Oral Sex, Masturbation, Dom/Sub, CNC, humping, Spitting, Degradation, Dacryphillia, Choking, Gagging, Subspace, Slapping, Sadism, Breeding Kink

5k words

A/N: Hell truly is empty. I apologise in advance.

You have made peace with the incomparable fact, long ago, that if the muggle God existed - if he is known to shepard Muggles and Wizards alike, then he was far too busy to attend to you. There is just too much going on all at once. The wizarding world is caught in its archaic intolerance of Half-Bloods. On the mortal side, you were informed from your private tutoring with Professor McGonagall that their smartphones are threatening devolution.

“It’s the closest thing they’ve got to a wand, Lovie, so we can’t really fault them on that, can we?” 6 years into your schooling at Hogwarts and you would continue to shadow Professor McGonagall, hoping you might one day soar to her heights of academic prestige in the wizarding world. You needed to be a Professor as much as a mortal needs to breathe….

You cannot let him, of all people, ruin things. Your reputation is a fragile, flammable thing - and he is freaking Kerosene.

It's difficult to pinpoint when it started or how your sensibilities rushed away from you so swiftly. One moment you’re planting your textbook on the face of a wooden desk - the sound reaching the rafters in the highest peak of the deserted classroom…

“A Guide To Advanced Transfiguration.” Mattheo read the title aloud with a tedious uninterested drawl. “Seems a bit presumptuous to shove this down my throat so early on. Shouldn't we be starting from the beginning?"

You ignored him promptly, using the silence to arrange your colour coordinated stationery on your desk beside Riddle's,

“I had no idea," You began, brushing off your blue lined robes and flattening the invisible creases on your skirt, "-That the person residing under my tutelage would be a first year."

Riddle stabbed the inside of his mouth with his tongue, while his eyes rolled to the back of his head. Your face remained passive as you continued, "You are a sixth year, correct?” You asked with a snide tilt of the head before planting yourself on the desk beside him.

“You are a big boy capable of understanding big boy books,” Unbeknownst to you, your words managed to stir something foreign within Mattheo but he conceals it with his usual veneer of arrogance as he swings his head lazily in your direction.

"May we begin?" You asked, with your back straightened - inches away from his hand now hanging on your chair.

"In a bit…" he says, "Just..." his voice trails off as his eyes scan over your visage, likely assessing it like an unseen tapestry. The truth is, Riddle did not know you prior to being forced under your tutelage. His droopy brown eyes appeared even more so as he broke the distance between you two and studied you closer. A tense silence grew pregnant in the ancient classroom, and your resolve was beginning to slip. Only one thought inflated a puddle of anxiety in your stomach:

Could this be your first kiss? Is this what first kisses looked like? Could this be your very first brush of intimacy overall?

Your brain failed to rationalise and compartmentalise his attraction, but your heart pushed your head closer.

"Call me a big boy again..." He had whispered… which evidently led you here.

Your lesson had ended with your hand covered in his release and a breathless smirk painted across his face. "This goes without saying," he breathed out with a satisfied smirk, "But tell anyone about this, and you're dead."

Ever since that day, your tutoring has been but a veneer of something much more sinister. When you were thrusted into the light of day, Mattheo overlooked you as did lots of his Slytherin friends. Besides the occasional threat and vague insult, you mean nothing to him.

When you two are alone, however, as you are right now, he would enchant you into servitude, lightly pushing your head down while he kissed you silly until your knees were planted on the hardwood floor.

Mattheo briefly opens his eyes to peer down at you. It is then when you notice the fresh bruise dotting the side of his face, and his pillowy lips split by a small incursion. He had very clearly gotten into another fight..

“Your mouth feels so fucking good when you're not using it to be a smart ass,” His words illicit a bubble of heat inside you.

Despite all this, you are clearly aware of the fact that you should not be enjoying this at all. Not one bit. For starters, you can feel the old wooden floors digging into the meat of your knees and the crisp winter chill is unkind to your scantily dressed state. Your shirt is unbuttoned because Mattheo was like a moth to a fucking flame when it came to your ample breasts and his hand is buried tightly in your kinky curls, forcing his cock even further down your throat. The very bones of Hogwarts seem to be in vehement protest of your blatant whorishness.

3 silver chains hang from his neck as he plants his other hand against the wall behind you, blocking your kneeling frame between both him and cold, hard stone. You crane your neck back, keeping a half lidded gaze on the jewelry that drives you feral with lust. You are content imagining that perhaps, when he is getting ready in the slytherin common rooms, he wears the silver for you. A fanciful thought but one that consistently has your intestines weaving themselves into knots.

That, paired with his striking, jet black blazer, which is discarded somewhere in the abandoned classroom, has you keening and fighting to take even more of him into your mouth. Perhaps you were peacocking a little - flatting your tongue so his cock slid seamlessly to the back of your throat while you fought to ignore the pain blossoming on your scalp. He had turned you from an inexperienced nun to something you're not quite ready to examine yet.

"You're finally putting this head of yours to good use…" Despite his feigned arrogance you're utterly delighted knowing that only you can bring Mattheo to such an utterly restless state. He does not really know what to do with himself.

Not when you took so much of him, so well.

You clench your toes.

Feeling himself get too close, Mattheo eases his cock fully out of your mouth, languidly stroking himself but still assuming a firm grip on your scalp. He is operating on that very specific plain of narcissism that was special to Mattheo. He is aware of your presence, physically, but his words are spoken into the open air, like you are an inanimate object. A glorified toy.

"Are all Ravenclaws as compliant as you are?”

You bring a crisp white sleeve up to your lips, wiping away the excess drool as you remain kneeled in front of him, knowing he has yet to finish.

"If you ever think of finding out," your voice is hoarse, "this will be the last time I offer you any free study sessions."

"Is money all you seek?" He attempts to feign composure, continuing to languidly stroke his cock. "How utterly greedy. I thought- fuck… - I thought you were far more philosophical than that"

You watch hungrily as Mattheo bites on his pillowy bottom lip. He is prolonging the release, taking his time as he usually did... "If you plan on edging yourself in my mouth instead of actually finishing the job, I do have other commitments to attend to-"

He ignores you... his brows furrowing and smoothening at odd intervals as he continues to touch himself while studying you.

"We may not be studying… but I still intend to pass Transfiguration, hope you're aware." He punctuates his sentence with an breathless laugh- it blossoms across his usually stoic visage, raising his buttercup cheekbones towards his smiling eyes.

As he talks, you examine his scars and feel the slow essence of admiration seep into the pit of your stomach. An arguably pathetic feat, given that your feelings will not ever be reciprocated.

Brewing inside you is the need to take care of him. You knew the rest of the student body viewed Mattheo as a glorified parasite. Something that is only capable of thinking within the capacity of its own means. Something that takes, and takes, and occasionally jokes around, and takes. But how could he know anything different? You suspected that his home life was built on the foundation of survival, on needing to be the loudest, and proudest, and worst of them all.

"What the fuck are you doing?" The sharpness of his words slice through your thoughts, bringing you back to yourself. Mattheo's gaze is placed firmly on something down below. Throughout his mindless tirade, your hand had taken to rubbing soft, comforting circles against the leg of his pants, quite literally on its own accord. Mattheo is bent over, head tilted as he watches you questioningly. Seconds stretch to a minute, and your stomach sinks as time passes.

Eventually, he dismisses you. He shakes his head. "Whatever," He says, tilting your head back and lining your mouth with the head of his cock once more. His visage darkens into a cruel sadistic grin. "Tell me you want me to come in your mouth."

Almost instinctively, you do as he orders and like clockwork, you swallow his cum, wondering if he knew how deeply and truly your words actually were. There was a moment, perhaps imagined, in which his fingers gripping your hair, melted to the side of your soft, supple cheek. It stays there for longer than necessary, leaving bits and pieces of your composure scattered in its wake.

Mattheo soon straightens his posture, stuffing his flaccid cock back into his pants before making himself as presentable to the student body as they know him to be (which admittedly is not a lot) And before he turns to walk away, he leaves you stranded on a glacier with his ice cold words cutting deep into your beating heart.

"Tell anyone about this-"

"And I'm dead," You interject, "I know."

And with that, you pull your ruffled collar over your lint-free school jersey and check your reflection to assess the damage Mattheo and his iron grip might have left. You needn't wait for an extension on the conversation because your job here was done, (pun so malevolently intended).

As far as Mattheo is concerned, you are an easy conduit to release his frustrations through because your unpopularity makes you so incredibly inconspicuous. You blend into any given crowd at any given moment, your name seldom reaching the heights of ridicule among his group because you are so unforgettable… There had been no reason to point out your flaws, not because you did not have any, but because you were simply invisible.

It is particularly strange to have any social interaction beyond the bounds of group projects and class discussions… so Harry Potter gifting you even a sliver of attention had been violently unorthodox. So unorthodox, in fact, you failed to look up from the weathered pages of your novel when his gentle voice wafted in your direction during a rare free period in Study of Ancient Runes. Your professor has been summoned quite promptly by the headmaster and has yet to return. The class has been in a state of havoc ever since.

"I don't know if you're aware of this but…" A deep shadow over the pages alerted you to his presence, "They both die at the end."

It was incredibly rare that Potter, who sat at the desk directly in front of you, ever felt the need to strike up conversation that was not purely academic. Gryffindors made use of Ravenclaws as often as Slytherins.

So naturally, you peer curiously up at him…

"Sorry?"

"Y-Your book. It's a muggle book, isn't it? I haven't seen anything with a cover like that around here. It's refreshing. Everything in the wizarding world is ancient and leatherbound." He mumbles as his index finger slides into the collar of his red quidditch jersey. He finds himself suddenly overcome by a wave of embarrassment even though there was nothing at all to be embarrassed about… he turns his chair slightly in your direction, his eyes darting to the door and the empty teacher's seat before meeting yours once more.

"'They Both Die At The End." He says, pointing towards the title.

"Oh…" You affirm, rocking your head back and forth, "You were making a joke?"

"No," Harry snickers before waving a large hand in dismissal, "Evidently, the only thing I 'made' was a complete and utter fool of myself."

You're not sure when it happens but you feel the lower half of your face melting into what you suspect is a smile. You can feel your shoulders relaxing and your novel lowering imperceptibly.

"Work on your delivery next time and maybe we'll be getting somewhere."

"Is that how it is!?" Harry asked, pleasantly surprised by your banter, "- I could've sworn I had a shred of dignity before the start of this conversation. Now I'm not quite sure where that went."

Mattheo's feet pass over the threshold as soon as the sound of your laughter rushes past him. It is almost charming in its familiarity but incredibly curious in its rarity. He can't recall ever seeing you with your head thrown back while the instinctive sound of amusement races through your throat. He does not know he's staring until Draco shoves past him, to get to their own seats in the front of the class.

His eyes remain on you as he makes his way to his desk, hoping, perhaps, that you would turn your head infinitesimally, in acknowledgment of his presence.

You do nothing of the sort, and it not only fills him with a weird sort of dissatisfaction but it bubbles into full blown vexation when he realises who is capturing your attention so viscerally.

Mattheo has never prided himself on his patience or tolerance.

Overthinking is something he consistently lives without.

Most of his actions were spurred from things he felt in the now, and he was really fucking uncomfortable with what was happening now.

His glances at the front of the class before finding you once more in the very back corner of the class. He notices that Harry is stationed in front of you but the seat beside you is completely deserted.

Did you not have friends?

And more importantly; how did he never notice until now?

What if…

Perhaps if he…

"You didn't let me know we were having a picnic," The sound of a chair scraping against the tiles had both you and Harry rallying into silence. Mattheo appears at your side, pushing the chair against yours so he, too, sits facing Potter - who suddenly appears incredibly uneasy. Gone is the comfortable atmosphere cooked by easy and amicable conversation. Mattheo injecting himself into your little bubble created a suddenly charged and suffocating atmosphere. You cannot keep your wide eyes off Mattheo as he lowers himself to his chair beside you with his legs spread as he slouches down, like he always does.

"Don't stop on my accord," He exclaims, completely oblivious to the fact that your professor might walk in at any minute. "What were we talking about?" Your heart wrestles in your chest as you see him turn to address you. His slouching puts him a level lower than you, but it does nothing to lessen his intimidation.

"Maybe I should ask, Potter?" Mattheo turns his attention to the front, "What were you lot talking about?" There is not a trace of friendliness present in Riddle's tone. In fact, it's the very opposite. Your nerves, swelling with anxiety, only escalate into full-on panic when you feel him place a large hand on your skirt under the table.

Harry's voice is low and his eyes are trained on the floor, "Books-"

"Books!" Mattheo cuts him off with sarcastic fervour, "How utterly fascinating!" The hyperbolic wonder in his tone is utterly rude and unbecoming, but you look down at your desk in blatant anger. Refusing to be a part of whatever this is.

"And tell me, Potter, how many books have you read so far?"

It is then that Riddle's once stationary hand begins the faintest trace of movement. He begins slow and tame, his callouses barely registering on the soft fabric until his fingers prod the lining of your skirt…

Your breath hitches in your throat.

Never had Mattheo ever displayed a desire to touch you. Not in the way he made you touch him. It was made explicitly clear that only he would benefit from your secret rendezvous' and so you were left to deal with your aching cunt alone, with the image of the face he made when he came, still burned into your mind. It had never been about you.

"A couple,'' says Harry, fighting to show this bully that he was unaffected by his intimidation. If only he knew that with every advance Mattheo's palm made, you were slipping farther and farther away.

"A couple books?" Asks Riddle for clarity. He remains lax and languid on the inside, but the nature of his wandering hand underneath the desk tells a new story.

He finally slips under your skirt.

His palm connects with the softness of your thighs and he seems utterly pleased by it. His hand is immediately restless to explore how far you would let him go. Which isn't very far.

Not at all.

If he thought he could suddenly touch you after myriad occasions of using you like a discarded toy… he had another thing coming.

The tips of Mattheo's fingers make gradually increasing strokes along your thigh until his fingers prod the stretch marks on your inner thigh. It is there when you stop him, clenching your legs together, blocking his hand from any further movement.

Mattheo's voice is strained as he says, "And you like reading, Potter?"

Sensing something brewing between the two of you - your withdrawn, hazy gaze, staring directly through the desk and Mattheo's overabundance in questions, has Harry reeling backwards.

"I asked you a question, Harry."

"I like reading."

"Good! That's really good!" Quite suddenly, Riddle tilts the ends of his half-moon nails into your thigh. His nails bite into your skin, forcing them to weaken and unclamp. Before you're even able to think, his palm is cupping your cunt through your panties- forcing an indecent yelp from your throat which you quickly (and very badly) disguise as a cough.

Mattheo is utterly pleased while he continues mindlessly stroking your cunt. Not for the purpose of any glorious stimulation. His hand is just there to show you (and perhaps maybe himself) that he has access to the most private part of you.

That thought alone has an unforeseen and sudden wave of lust coursing through his veins and surging straight to his hardened cock. He thinks of all the things he could have done to you but failed to do. He thinks about how, up until this point, he had ever been satisfied with using your mouth alone, not when he was denying himself the softness of your pussy all along.

He felt angry with himself, for being so fucking stupid, he is angry at Potter for seeing whatever it is he saw in you, way before he did and, possibly most harrowing of all is the fact that he is angry with you. And he can't help but be angry at you. How easily you whore yourself out to any and every man. If this thing with Potter had gone far enough, would you replace him? Had you even fucked Potter before?

You bite down on your lower lip as your head bows even further into your book. The words blend into one another, and all you can feel is a rise in temperature and Mattheo's suddenly restless fingers, pressing rudely against your clit - for the sole purpose of ripping an orgasm out of you right then and there, at the very back of an unsupervised classroom, with Harry Potter still very much a part of the conversation.

"You've got so many books to read in your lifetime," Says Mattheo. He sits up slowly, likely spurred on by the dampness seeping through your panties. "Don't cut your long life short by trying to entertain other people's girlfriends, yeah?" Gone are any traces of feigned friendliness. "Fucking Mudblood,"

Your skin feels like you are bathing in magma and you hope Potter could not see the slight tremor in your hand as you gripped the sides of your book with more force than necessary.

Mattheo's words… they have you shifting forward and widening your legs minutely. You crave for nothing more than to roll your hips in tandem with the circles he's pressing against your clit.

"Understood?"

Your orgasm is dangerously close, with the promise of sheer, disgusting shame and embarrassment if he continues. You feel Harry give you one final curious look, perhaps pleading for an interjection of denial at some point but you've taken to bouncing your knee under the table, hoping the vibrations might create enough friction to aid Mattheo's hands. He is keeping you trapped in a space of wanting. So much so, that this almost feels like a punishment.

Once Harry is turned back around and facing the front of the class, Mattheo lowers his lips to your ears. The damp smell of firewhiskey floods your nostril and you realise that he is completely drunk. In the second lesson of the day.

However, you're so completely stimulated, even the warmth of his breath as you fight the urge to hump into his hand like a lost little puppy until you make a mess all over his hand.

"You're such a fucking slut, you know that?" Your book drops to your desk - muffled by the sounds of the classroom cacophony. "You like being humiliated like this?" He asks, almost in complete awe. It takes everything in you not to moan outright.

"Fuck," You whisper to yourself, blinking your eyes shut, warding off the need but to no avail. His fingers are long and limber, and they have you nearly cumming right there, in front of your entire fucking class. Had it not been for your Professor's haphazard arrival into the class, and the swift removal of Mattheo's fingers from between your legs… you might truly have become the slut he labelled you as.

Instead of moving to his designated seat, Riddle raises his hand for the professor… the very same hand that has previously been in between your legs.

"Yes, Mr Riddle?" Asks the Professor, his voice as lacklustre as his appearance.

"May we be excused? We were excused by Professor Slughorn to assist him in-"

"Fine, fine," Says the professor with a wave of dismissal before turning his attention to the rest of the class. "The rest of you, open your textbooks to page 56."

Riddle's hand is clamped around your forearm, already leading you swiftly out the door in a long and wide stride. Had it been any other teacher at all, they might have recognized this for what it so clearly was.

"Here," you have barely made it fully into the boy's bathroom before Mattheo is stuffing his fingers down your throat, making you gag and yelp at the sudden intrusion. "Tell me how good you taste." He doesn't even bother to make sure you're truly left alone in the bathroom before pushing your front against the bathroom sink.

"Is that good?" His voice is as sweet as honey as he forces his fingers deeper down your throat, causing you to cough and gag around them.

Mattheo has half his sense to pull his wand from his back pocket, and without turning around, whispers "Colloportus," and the heavy doors snap shut.

You're supposed to be afraid because you've never seen him like this. Mattheo is always a ball of sarcastic energy between trysts, but it's usually an energy he can somewhat contain.

You don't know what to do with him, not when he's watching you choke on his fingers through the mirror, while his other hand fondles at your breasts and rips your bra down until your nipples are poking through your school shirt.

The figure in the mirror distorts as your eyes begin to water. Thick beads of tears grow pregnant at the ends of your eyes before rolling down the side of your face.

"My girl," Mattheo presses his face into your hair, breathing you in, pressing his body into your side. His hard cock in unmistakable through his school pants, "My messy little girl,"

You finally moan candidly while your fingers grip the countertops and your hips buck into nothingness. Your eyes plead with him in the mirror, hoping they relay how utterly useless with lust you have become. It would not take hard work to make you cum, you're sure one more flick against your material-clad nipples might send you over the edge.

"Fuck, why didn't I think of this sooner,"

This is all new, even for the two of you.

"Spread your legs." He commands, even though his feet are already kicking them apart.

"Come here," you break eye contact in the mirror to face the boy behind you. Mattheo removes his fingers sitting in your mouth, leaving a trail of sticky saliva in its wake before replacing it with a long and messy kiss- one that has his tongue forcing itself inside.

Mattheo weaponizes your distraction to reach around and slide your panties to the side with one hand while he rubs your soft nub with his other, spit-coated hand.

You break away from the kiss, neck craning back and mouth hanging open while your eyebrows dissolve into crescents. You cannot look away from him, as you hump his hand.

"You wanna cum?" You nod enthusiastically. "And what if I told you, you can't cum until I've fucked that little pussy of yours? Hm? What then?" His words have you mewling from the sheer pleasure they bring and your orgasm threatens to snap once more.

"Fuck," He hisses, feeling unable to remove his hand from your wet cunt but needing to, in order to undo his belt and pull his aching cock out. "Don't you dare fucking touch yourself," He says in a deadly quiet voice before bringing his hand up to your mouth. "Spit." You don't ever think of disobeying him, not when you're swimming so deeply in your subspace, not when he's the one to bring you here.

Mattheo collects every bit of saliva you offer him before coating his cock in the stuff.

Deciding not to waste anymore time, he does what his body is screaming for him to do: he bends you over the bathroom sink and pushes cock right through your slippery folds. It's tense and painful and your voice is hoarse from doing all that screaming but the sudden contact strokes a deeply sated part inside yourself. His curved and pretty cock rams your insides with reckless abandon, all while he delivers small slaps against your cheek. Riddle keeps a firm grip on your throat. His mouth is inches away from you while his hips rut into yours. His words are being delivered through clenched teeth.

"You think you're so fucking smart but you're just my little whore, arent you? A little whore thst fucks anything that gives her the slightest bit of attention?" It doesn't even register that Mattheo wrongfully suspects that there had been something between you and Harry but you keep your mouth shut. For all his indifference in the past, this is how you would make him pay.

"Oh~ fuck." His cock bruises your cervix, leaving him balls deep and feral inside you. "Fucking Potter?! You wanna give what's mine, to fucking Potter?!" His voice is utterly depraved and animalistic and it has your orgasm cresting.

He is panting, while he mumbles into your ear.

"What would Potter think? If he saw you like this? What would he think? Would he still want your slutty pussy knowing I've been inside it? Knowing that I've cum so deep inside you? Completely ruining you for anyone else, huh?"

"You…" The tears threaten to spill, "It's only ever been you, Mattheo -oh my god! I'm so fucking close!" You fight down tears as the lava begins to bubble at the pit of your stomach.

"S-Say it again. Tell me you want me!" He exclaims, "Tell me you fucking need me."

"Oh my God, Mattheo, I fucking need you." You push your hips back to meet his thrusts.

His voice wavers after your confession. His strokes became sloppy. His mind is flooded with the tightest of your cunt around his cock- how someone so smart could possibly ever say they need him. It has a flood of heat pooling at the base of his cock. "You're so fucking pretty… my pretty girl - my pretty whore," He nods to himself while his heavy cock finds purchase in a specific clump of sensitive tissue inside your cunt. It has you clamping your own mouth shut, your arms wavering while your back arches towards him, only allowing him better excess.

"I need you," You say once more, swallowing a ball of saliva as you nod towards him through the mirror, "I need you to cum inside me."

"Oh my fucking god," Mattheo's eyes soften in their desperstion, "M'gonna fucking breed pussy right here- fuck!" His grip on your throat grows tighter until you're wholeheartedly cut off from your air supply. You hump his cock until you feel it twitch inside you.

"Y-Youre making me cum, baby- fuck-" You feel his hot cum spurting inside your walls, triggering your own orgasm that has you gripping his cock like a vice.

"So… so pretty" His hips stutter against yours until you've completely drained him of his cum. A sharp tremor settles over your bones and you gasp in vague increments, waiting for the overwhelming state of euphoria to subside… but it never does.

The weight of what you had done comes crashing back down but you are unable to feel anything besides an immense wave of satisfaction at having your deepest need satiated.

"I think I nearly killed Potter today." His voice is a hoarse echo within the school bathrooms.

"There is no Harry Potter," You say, watching him through the mirror, "In my whole world, there is only ever you, Mattheo."

And a part of him believes you, but he refuses to affirm something as emotionally stifling as that. Instead, Mattheo's eyes flutter shut as his nose finds your hair once more. His cock is still buried inside you, and you hiss as he moves his hips slowly, almost insitinvely. He loves being so wholly enveloped by you. He loves feeling you everywhere.

© to @mphountitled on tumblr; do not repost

#mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo x y/n #mattheo x you #mattheo riddle x black!reader #hp fandom #hp fanfic #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter smut #harry potter x reader #harry potter x you #ravenclaw reader #x ravenclaw reader #mattheo riddle x ravenclaw!reader #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle imagine #harry potter fanfic #hp fanfcition #dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic

[noodlesfics]

I'm currently waiting for the bus under the burning sun and I guess this made me think of two suggestions you can choose which one you like or you can do both in different post or do none at all: "The scouts cutting the umbelical cord" (for pregnancy serie) and "the scouts with a stressed out s/o"

I'm both in the mood for fluff and kinda angst xD

A/N~THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST! SORRY IT HAS TAKEN SO LONG TO GET TO IT BUT I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY ❤️

Levi

He was for once scared to do something. Cutting an umbilical cord was something that he never thought he would do in his life. What if it hurts you!? Would it harm the baby!? He did it so quickly that even the doctors missed it. He felt honoured to do it but washed his hands straight after.

Erwin

He would love to, especially for his darling. Mainly for his own reassurance, he asked one to many questions before hand just to make sure that he didn't inflict any more pain against your tired being. After he did it, he just looked at it and went, "Oo squishy."

Hange

She was straight up to do it! Before she did it, she examined it a bit and asked you a few questions. After she cut it, she asked the doctors if she could keep it for scientific purposes. She got you to ask the doctor for her after they said no.

Miche

Why yes of course, he would love to! The smell was a bit off-putting and overwhelming for him but he did it anyway for you. He was a bit grossed out when he saw the flimsy flesh but was glad that your pain was over.

Moblit

He was incredibly nervous but wanted everything to be over and done with for you so you could finally rest. He was so nervous that he asked how to cut something! Poor man basically just ripped it instead but helped you get to sleep soon after.

#anime #aot #attack on titan #levi ackerman #erwin smith #hange zoe #miche zacharias #moblit berner #levi x reader #erwin x reader #hange x reader #miche x reader #moblit x reader #aot x reader #pregnency #pregnant reader #giving birth

[aemondtargaryenonlyfans]

ENCOURAGEMENT.

Daemon Targaryen x little sister!Reader

It's 105 AC. Your brother, King Viserys, wants to throw a feast in honor to announce his wife's pregnancy. You want to attend—if it weren't for the rising doubts about your changing body. But it's good your husband knows a way to ease your worries.

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MINORS DNI; canon typical incest/targcest (brother & sister), mirror sex, vaginal fingering, praise kink, female and pregnant reader, lactation, lactation kink, nipple play

WORDS: 2.5 K

NOTES: Thank you for betaing this sweet thing, @happilyhertale! 🤍

❗️𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

Frustration brings you to the point you stand completely bare in front of the large mirror that’s been brought into your chambers by the servants, looking at your reflection. To the right hangs a black gown, and to the left a more reddish one. And neither of the two will fit over your swollen curves, you just know by looking at it.

You’ve scared off your ladies-in-waiting a few minutes ago, usually soft-spoken you experiencing an emotional outburst that just called for you to be left alone.

Nearing the six moon mark of your first pregnancy has left your body with scars and marks around your rounded belly and swollen breasts, some even teetering down the insides of your thighs. And yet, when you look at your husband strolling into your martial chambers with not more than a large cloth hanging around his hips, his scarred chest on full display, you can only admire him for wearing them with so much confidence.

But not even your own doubts can stop your eyes from stealing glances, his toned physique managing to put your mind at ease for once. Trailing your eyes over the expanse of his scarred chest down to the dark trail of hair that ends deep below the cloth that conceals most of it. However, it only poorly hides the way his half-hard member prods against the linen with each step he makes towards you.

He makes no secret out of the way his lilac eyes all but devour your body and its curves, although your belly is not yet as swollen as Aemma’s was when she was with Rhaenyra. The pregnancy has made you even more of a woman, and knowing he’s the one responsible for it makes him feel proud but also quite possessive.

“What is it?” he asks, his gravelly voice sending a chill down your spine.

Daemon eventually comes to a stop with his tall frame looming over yours from behind, fingers trailing over your side in an uncharacteristically tender and gentle manner. Every inch of your reflection is devoured by his greedy eyes. “We do not have to attend the feast, you know,” he says. “I wouldn’t dream of depriving myself of the pleasure of spending time with my wife.”

As he bows his head forward to press his lips to your shoulder, the soft strands of his silver hair tickle your skin, making you lean into his embrace and him reaching around you to splay a hand over your swollen belly.

“But I want to go. It’s the feast in honor of the queen announcing her pregnancy, and our brother will be cross with us if we do not attend,” you pout at him. “I just… I just don’t know which dress to choose.”

Daemon, however, knows full well that you’re being less than honest with him about your reluctance to go to the feast, becoming obvious when he starts to trace his fingers over the marks running across the underside of your bump. “That truly is a conundrum,” he says.

Sighing loudly, you try to escape his fingers by leaning further against him. But the friction your rear causes against the cloth is enough to loosen its tie, allowing it to fall to the ground.

The both of you are completely bare now, and he wastes no time in pressing his hard cock snugly into the crevice of your arse, making his desire for you more than clear.

“Let us forget the dresses for now. You know you’ll look ravishing no matter what you wear,” Daemon drawls, running a hand along your side. “Besides, why not allow me to appreciate every inch of you… no dresses involved.”

It sounds far too tempting… if you were in the mood. But with you struggling with your changing body for quite some time now, the thought of unraveling for him discourages you even more. “We do not have time,” you try to protest.

Much to your surprise, your usually insolent husband listens to your words.

“I think you’ll find that we have plenty of time, my love,” he mumbles, taking a step back with his hands raised in defeat. “The time we spend together would be much better than the time spent amongst a bunch of prudes at a feast.”

Not paying a mind to his words, you just nod appreciatively, and bring your attention back to the two gowns still hanging next to the mirror. Perhaps you can make the black one work with the laces tied extra loosely, and you only present at the feast for no longer than two hours.

Daemon stalks around you to stand next to the mirror, shamelessly dragging his eyes over your naked form and watching you inspect one of the dresses.

“Do you not have to dress yourself, husband?” you ask, pinching the fabric of the black dress between your fingers, trying not to pay too much attention to him. But his gaze is intense, burning straight through your skin, and making your body heat up.

You meet his eyes, cocking an eyebrow.

“There is a more important matter for me to tend to,” he objects.

“What are you–” you’re interrupted when your husband grabs the sides of the mirror and hoists it up, bringing it closer to your marital bed.

Turning on your heels, you watch him adjust it and eventually sit down on the bed with both feet planted firmly on the ground. The confusion must be evident on your features, because without a question uttered, Daemon pats his sturdy thigh and parts his legs, silently beckoning you over with a come-hither motion of his fingers.

The sight alone is alluring, his thick cock resting hard and heavy between his thighs, covered in an angry red and aching to be buried inside of you. But wanting to find out what he’s in mind is what brings you closer to him.

You move to climb his lap, wanting to sit astride him like you sit on Silverwing, but Daemon beats you to it. He scoots back slightly and brings his paws to your hips, turning you around. He pulls you back to sit down in the space between his parted legs.

When his hands hook beneath your knees to drape them over his thighs, inevitably exposing yourself to him, you instinctively lean back against him to adjust to the position.

You want to squeeze your thighs together, to hide from him, but his legs stop you from doing so. He brings a hand up to cup your full breast, squeezing lightly and testing the weight and shape of it. They’re full of milk by now, providing for your unborn child, and hard and heavy to the touch.

Pressing his lips to the curve of your shoulder, you tilt your head to the side, not daring to watch your fully exposed reflection in the mirror. You’ve been bare around him the whole time, and he’s fucked you in ways that would bring a blush to certain people’s faces, but something in the current position and your growing insecurities makes you more vulnerable right now.

Daemon adjusts his fingers so that your taut bud pops up between them, and just a bit of pressure is already enough to coax droplets of your milk to spill from it. Your breathing grows heavy, more so because it’s already enough friction to ease some of the tormenting tension.

“I want to see you full and lovely and large, swollen with my seed and carrying my child,” he mutters against your skin. His other hand comes up to cup your chin, pushing your head forwards to all but force you to look at yourself. “And I want you to watch as I worship that precious body of yours.”

The hand on your chin settles at your throat, not squeezing it but tight enough for it to be a warning for you not to move. The other hand releases your breast and trails down to the apex of your legs. It all happens agonizingly slowly, tracing and following every scar that runs along the curve of your bump, until it finally finds your cunt.

As his fingers drag through it, even your husband can’t seem to stop himself from moaning. “You’re weeping for me, my love,” he rasps, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. “So beautiful.” Withdrawing his fingers, they’re glistening with your arousal, connected by faint strings of it as he spreads his fingers.

You whimper, and dip your head back far enough for him to capture your lips. The kiss is sloppy, matching the rhythm he sets up as his fingers trace your cunt.

Daemon hums in approval as you pull away from him to look into the mirror, watching the exact moment his deft fingers ease into you. You gasp at the motion, and put all your weight back against him, melting into his embrace with his muscular arms around you.

There’s a pout on your lips when the pressure of his fingers leaves you again, used to spread apart your folds instead. In the reflection you see his dark blown eyes fixed on nothing else than what lies between your legs, his hard cock throbbing against your lower back as you clench around nothing. “Look how beautiful you look all spread out and ready for me, my love.”

Trying to squeeze your thighs shut, his hand comes from your throat to clasp around one, keeping you spread open for him. “Oh, don’t you dare,” he warns, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

With the heel of his hand pressing snugly against your pearl now, you can’t help but whimper as his fingers enter you again. The pace is slow and languid, making clear that neither of you is in a hurry tonight. It’s all about you.

“Seven hells, just look at you,” he coos against the side of your face, tip of his nose nudging your cheek. He clearly enjoys the confidence you slowly start to muster as his praises go straight to your head, coaxing you to rock your hips against his hand. “You truly have no idea of how much I desire you. Always.”

His words bring another wave of crimson to your cheeks, running down your neck and chest. It’s heaving with all the heavy breaths you inhale, and your taut buds have not softened since he touched them. If everything, his words and gestures have coaxed a few beads of milk to ooze from both, running down the curve of your breasts.

Reaching behind you, your hand rests at the back of his head, entangling into his long, silver hair. “Daemon–” you whimper, but he’s quick to silence you.

“Shush now,” he rasps. “Just enjoy and observe.”

And you certainly do, watching his fingers pump in and out of you as if it’s the most enthralling thing you’ve ever seen.

When he’s sure you’ll keep your legs spread for him, he brings his hand to your full breast again, groping and squeezing it, pinching the little bud to tease even more milk to spill from it.

It’s so much coming together at once. His praise goes straight to your head, making it hazy and longing for more, while liquid fire courses through your veins, ignited by the skilled ministrations of his fingers.

Daemon seems to sense your impending peak, and is determined to work you toward the sweet relief you so desperately crave.

The pace of his fingers increases now, fingers repeatedly brushing the sweet spot inside of you that makes your vision blurry. Pleasure soars through your body, and eventually is enough to snap the familiar knot inside of your belly. And that’s also the moment you can’t watch yourself any longer. The pleasure grows to the point you have to close your eyes to be able to thoroughly enjoy it. But your husband doesn’t seem to mind.

“There you go,” he coos, not slowing down the pace of his hands. “Such a good girl.”

Your walls convulse all over Daemon’s fingers, and with you releasing the sweetest and most desperate sounds your husband has heard in a while, he’s sure he could’ve peaked on spot, more so with the vice-like grip you have on his long hair.

His hand works you through the waves of euphoria, just slightly slowing down, and while your mind doesn’t process some of the praises he mumbles against your skin, your body does; with a renewed wave of arousal dripping out of your cunt.

It’s surprising that the pleasure doesn’t get replaced by overstimulation, especially with just how little time he gives you to recover until he starts pumping his fingers in and out of you at a harsher pace again.

“Gods be good,” you whimper, tipping your head back against his shoulder. Your hand releases his hair and instead you grab his forearm with both, clinging onto it for dear life.

“One more for me, you’re doing so good.”

You have barely time to process the first peak and its repercussions when the second washes over you in an ambush, striking you like lightning. It’s not as intense as the first, but prolonged with his other hand now frantically rubbing your pearl.

“Shh, just let it happen,” he purrs, pressing sloppy kisses to your cheek as you struggle against him.

It takes just a few more pumps of his hand until the pleasure subsides, only leaving a wave of bliss in its wake. Daemon’s hands both stop their ministrations, and you finally feel as though you’re able to breathe again.

As you open your eyes, you see him lick the remnants of your arousal off his fingers, before they tease your buds again, gathering some of your milk to lick off of them as well.

Whimpering and whining at the touch, you just slowly catch your breath. He soothes you by snaking both arms around your form, cupping your swollen belly, and presses gentle kisses to the side of your face.

“You’re an absolute vision in this state, and I do not wish for you to ever doubt that,” he mutters against your skin. “You look more desirable carrying my child, than any other woman does in their most provocative dress.”

Releasing a soft chuckle, you turn your head and capture his lips with yours. A chaste peck is not what he has anticipated, but he’s still happy that he was able to lift your spirits.

“Kirimvose, ñuha jorrāelagon,” you whisper. “Care to help me with the black dress?” Thank you, my love.

“Oh, I will,” Daemon says with a teasing lilt in his voice. He grabs you by the waist and carefully hoists you up, but when he lies you down on your back, you know you won’t be getting into the dress so soon. “But I think I need just a little more time to get fully into the spirit of the occasion.”

The moment he climbs on the bed to kiss his way over your marks and curves, you squeal and squirm, entangling your hands into his hair again.

Viserys can never be angry with you two for long anyway.

#house of the dragon #hotd #daemon fanfic #daemon targaryen #daemon x reader #hotd daemon #daemon smut #daemon fic #daemon targaryen x rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen smut #prince daemon targaryen #daemon targeryen x reader #daemon targaryen x you #daemon targaryen fanfic #hotd fanfic #hotd x reader #hotd daemon targaryen #hotd x y/n #hotd x you #hotd imagine #hotd smut #hotd fic #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon daemon #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon fic

[captain-hawks]

double shift

— kento nanami x f!reader

summary: Kento Nanami hates overtime, but who is he to say no when his boss asks him to go check on his wife while he's out of town?

word count: 4.2k

content: NSFW, 18+, smut, infidelity, heavy lactation kink, fingering, unprotected p in v, creampie, multiple orgasms, degradation, dirty talk, squirting, breeding kink, restraints, counter sex, wet & messy

Kento’s grip on the steering wheel tightens as he stares at his phone nestled in the cupholder, limbs taut with aggravation as the bored voice of his boss continues on, “She hasn’t been answering my calls all day, and I’m not flying back for another week yet. I know you’re probably about to leave the office, but I’m going to need you to stop at my house and check on her first, Nanami.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, the words ‘OVERTIME’ flashing red behind his eyes and drawing forth a fresh surge of anger that has him contemplating the consequences of smashing his phone on the pavement outside and finding a new job entirely.

Today has been shit.

Capital S, Shit.

His asshole boss has been out of town for nearly a week already, every client is somehow ten times more unbearable than usual, the incompetence across the office has become a goddamn disease, and he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that that piece of shit is doing anything  but keeping his dick in his pants while his wife and their new baby are left home alone.

His very attractive, very lovely wife who probably has no idea what a waste of oxygen her husband is. 

You’re too fucking good for him.

And you’re also too good for Kento, who’s spent more nights than he’d care to admit furiously fisting his cock to the memory of whatever tantalizing outfit you’d turned up at the office wearing that day.

And seeing you pregnant?

While the knowledge that you were now entirely stuck with that undeserving asshole sent his blood boiling, Kento could hardly complain about the sight of you during those months, his shaft straining painfully in his slacks every time he laid eyes upon your gloriously swollen, heavy breasts. 

And the cum he splattered all over the mirror and sink after inevitably rushing out of his office when you finally left? Well, that was between him and the four walls of the men’s bathroom. 

So after the awful day he’s already had, Kento’s not sure he can imagine a worse type of overtime than waltzing into your house and playing the part of a dutiful employee checking in on his boss’s wife, acting like he doesn’t want to fuck you so bad it’s driving him up a goddamn wall.

But he’ll fucking do it.

Of course he will. 

“Sure,” he replies tersely, before hanging up and peeling out of the parking lot.

᠃ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

She’s finally asleep.

Sighing weakly in relief, you close the door to your daughter’s bedroom and shuffle down the hallway. You make it all the way to the kitchen before you’re forced to lean heavily against the countertop, gritting your teeth as another wave of discomfort radiates from your sore, swollen breasts. 

“Hello?” a familiar, male voice tentatively calls out in a hushed tone.

You whip around, still clutching the counter for support, eyes widening at the side of Kento Nanami standing in the doorway to your kitchen. 

“Hi?” you respond, your heart doing a somersault as you drink in the sight of his tall, muscled form. 

He twirls a key around his finger twice before catching it in the palm of his hand and stuffing it in his pocket. “I apologize for barging in, but your spare key hiding spot is shit, and I didn’t want to ring the doorbell and wake the baby.”

“It’s okay, Nanami,” you assure him, the erratic thrumming in your chest far from a feeling of fear.

For whatever reason, he appears to be attempting to avert his eyes after glancing over at you quickly, roughly running a hand through his hair. “Your husband asked me to check on you. He said he hasn’t heard from you all day,” he explains carefully. 

“Well, I figured it would be rude to interrupt the wild orgies he pays for with the company credit card,” you deadpan.

Nanami’s jaw ticks, “He—”

“I’m well aware of what he does.”

“Then why—”

“Because I realized too late, and I’m too tired to do anything about it right now,” you sigh, wincing at the continuous ache of your breasts.

And it’s then that you realize why Nanami’s been looking anywhere but at you directly.

You’re wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt and knee-high socks, which in and of itself isn’t overtly reprehensible, given that you’re in your own house, you have a four-month-old child, and you can’t remember the last time you got a full night’s rest. The issue is that your breasts are so sore and tender right now, you haven’t been able to even look at a bra in days. 

Which, once again, wouldn’t be an issue alone in the privacy of your home…when one of your husband’s employees isn’t desperately trying not to acknowledge the fact that two large wet spots have soaked through your shirt. 

“I should…” you trail off awkwardly, glancing around the room in hopes that you left one of your flannel over shirts lying within reach. 

“It’s fine,” Nanami blurts out, scratching the back of his head and studiously feigning interest in the collection of party invites and shopping lists stuck to the side of your fridge. 

᠃ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

It’s not fine. 

It’s anything but fine. 

It’s a complete fucking disaster. 

Kento hasn’t seen you since you gave birth. And despite how exhausted he knows you are—he can see it in the bags under your eyes and the limpness of your posture— your soft pregnancy glow has transformed into a postpartum radiance that has his breath catching in his throat each time his eyes sweep over you. 

You’re fucking stunning. 

And somehow, he knows your husband hasn’t noticed this. Hasn’t told you how incredible you are, how fantastic motherhood looks on you. It sends a fresh wave of anger coursing through him, the mere thought that he could bear to let himself stray from you—especially now, at such a vulnerable time. 

But any hopes Kento had of trying not to commit this sight of you to memory were swiftly dashed the moment he noticed the wet spots on your shirt. 

Even now, when he’s looking at a box of cereal on the counter as if it’s the most interesting thing in the entire world, every layer of his inner psyche is rapidly overheating at the thought of your heavy, swollen breasts. The milk leaking from them, soaking through your clothes and inevitably trailing down your stomach. 

He needs to fucking leave. Now. 

“I should go—“

“—do you want some tea?”

You both speak at the same time, and when Kento turns to face you again, you’ve slipped a blue flannel shirt on, buttoning it up partway. As if his traitorous cock will somehow forget what he now knows is obscured underneath the added layer of material. But despite the growing discomfort swelling and throbbing against the zipper of his pants, he concedes, his need to quell the apparent loneliness in your eyes with a moment of company winning out over his lust-addled desire to disappear to the nearest private place to jerk off. 

He’s thankful to sit after you pour him a cup, hiding any and all evidence of what a terrible man he is beneath the table, one leg idly bouncing as he wills his hard on to go down. It’s a big ask, though, given that you’re probably not even aware of what you’re doing to him when you lean your body over the kitchen island with your mug clutched between your fingers as you idly chat with him, your oversized shirt just barely masking the flash of pink panties it reveals beneath each time your shoulders bounce as you laugh. 

He’s two seconds from excusing himself to put his fucking dick in the freezer. 

His chair scrapes against the tile floor as he pushes it back, having decided he’s at his limit, but he pauses when a pained sound escapes your lips. 

“Are you alright?” he asks, hurrying over to where you’re now pressing your forehead against the island countertop, whimpering softly. His hand hovers for a moment before he opts to gently touch your shoulder, just to let you know he’s there. 

Your fingers scrape over the marble as you breathe out in a quiet voice, “No.”

As if on instinct, Kento begins to rub small, comforting circles into your upper back, his tentative touches growing more confident when he feels your tense body behind to relax slightly. 

“What’s wrong? What can I do?”

You whine again, standing up straighter but keeping your back to him as you clutch at your chest. “They…they hurt so bad.”

Kento’s halfway certain his soul has left his body as he watches, stunned, while you slide your hands up under your shirt and squeeze at your breasts, exhaling a chorus of breathy little sounds like the fucked up cherry on top. 

“Do you need to…” he trails off, and though you can’t see from where he’s standing behind you, he vaguely gestures in the general direction where he can only surmise the baby’s room is. 

“It’s…they’re clogged,” you whisper, elbows lifting up and revealing the small of your back as you begin to knead your tits desperately. “They’ve been so sore and swollen for days.”

Kento bites his lower lip, mentally steadying himself for a moment before he asks, “Tell me how I can help.”

“Can you grab a clean washcloth out of the drawer next to the sink and soak it in hot water?”

He swiftly complies with your request, returning moments later after wringing out the small towel and waiting for it to cool down slightly. You’re still using the counter to steady yourself, so he approaches you from behind and goes to hand you the washcloth, only to find his hand immediately pinned between your own and one of your breasts. 

You let out a whimpering cry of relief, and it takes everything in him not to let out the noise rumbling in his own throat as you squeeze his hand over your tit. 

“I’m sorry,” you whimper. “It just feels so…”

“It’s okay,” Kento murmurs. “Relax.”

Internally, every single warning bell inside of his head is blaring indignantly over the fact that he’s got his hand under his boss’s wife’s shirt, and he’s massaging her lactating breasts with a hot towel while she whimpers and presses into his touch. 

But your fingers are laced with his, and you’re not telling him to stop. 

In fact, you’re begging him to keep going, keeping a hold of his left hand when he switches the towel to his right, urging him to massage both of your tits at the same time. And who is he to tell you no?

Kento’s fairly certain his balls are going to be aching for days when he feels the warm liquid that begins to coat his fingers.

Fucking fuck. 

What the fuck is he doing?

Then your back arches as you outright moan when he brazenly toys with both of your nipples at the same time, milk squirting out, your ass pressing directly into his throbbing erection. 

And fuck it, fuck dignity, because Kento’s on the verge of coming in his pants. 

But then you spin around to face him, your back pressed into the island as you gaze at him shyly and say, “I…I think I need more.”

Your eyes flick from his mouth back down to your breasts, and he cups the side of your face as he asks, “Are you sure?”

You nod, slipping your shirt off entirely and tossing it aside, and Kento’s mouth goes dry as he stares at the trails of milk leaking from your tits, wondering how he’d ever thought to call today ‘Shitty’. 

He motions toward the counter, his large hands grasping your waist to help you get seated up on top of it, fingertips hesitant to pull away from your lacy panties when he spies the wet spot over your cunt. 

Kento has never thought of himself as a greedy man. Far from it, actually. 

But the moment his mouth latches onto one of your hot, swollen breasts, pulling a shameless moan from your pretty lips as your thighs wrap around him, the sweet taste of your milk hitting his tongue, he feels fucking insatiable. 

His mind is a buzz of static as he drinks from your tits, all the blood in his body rushing to his cock, precum soaking through his boxers and slacks. Your fingers tangle in his hair, the heel of your foot pressing into his back and pulling him closer, and he groans, one hand grasping your upper thigh as he teases your nipples between his teeth and squeezes a spray of liquid onto his gluttonous tongue. 

“Feels so good, Nanami,” you whine, fingertips sliding down the front of his dress shirt, catching on each button.  

“Kento,” he exhales, licking up the milk dripping down your chest. 

“Kento,” you moan, tugging hard on the tousled blond strands that have fallen onto his forehead. 

And at the sound of your breathy, wrecked tone moaning out his name for the first time, every nerve ending in Kento’s body goes up in flames. 

᠃ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

Nothing has ever felt this good. 

Nothing. 

Kento Nanami’s sinful mouth is latched onto your heavy, engorged tits, greedily drinking every spurt of breast milk that comes leaking out of you, the flow growing steadier with each lap and squeeze. 

He has no fucking clue that most of your impromptu visits to the office are actually to see him. To talk to him, if only for a few moments. Kento Nanami, who has always treated you with unfailing kindness under his sometimes brash exterior. Who extends more patience toward you than all of his coworkers combined. 

He has no idea how trapped you feel in your marriage, how often you’ve longed for the bland touch of your husband in bed to be his. 

He doesn’t know how many times you’ve brought yourself over the edge with your fingers with his face lingering in your mind, the rough, teasing sound of words you’ve imagined in his voice playing out in your head like the most sinful soundtrack you’ve ever heard. 

And now he’s grunting and moaning as he makes a mess of both of you, his lips and chin gleaming with the same wet, sticky milk that’s all over your chest and thighs and his hands and pooling on the countertop beneath you. 

It’s filthy.

It’s so fucking filthy. 

And maybe it’s wrong. 

But you’re so desperate for him. For this. You need more. You need it so badly, you can hardly breathe. Searing desire is coiled so tightly in your abdomen, you’re trembling with restraint, aching with the desire to beg him to fuck you. You know he wants it, too, though. It’s hard to miss the thick, mouth-watering outline of his cock straining against his pants, like a beacon waiting to fulfill your darkest desires. 

It’s a line you know he won’t cross unless you ask for it. 

“Kento,” you murmur again, pulling his face up to meet yours. 

“Mmm?” he asks, pupils blown wide with lust, and you can tell he’s slightly dazed, drunk off of the taste of the milk leaking from your tits. 

You lean closer, letting your lips hover over his, Kento’s breath mingling with your own as you whisper, “Please touch me.”

He gently pushes your thighs further apart, carefully running a finger over the front of your panties. His voice is a rough, gravelly sound as he asks, “Here?”

A thrill shoots up your spine at the feather-light touch. “Yes.”

“More?” he questions, his lips brushing against your mouth as he hooks a finger in your underwear and pulls them aside. 

“More,” you keen, bucking into him as his knuckles graze your clit. 

He slides a finger through your folds, visibility shuddering as he comments, “You’re so fucking wet.”

“For you,” you pant, trying to resist the urge to shamelessly start riding his hand. 

Kento’s mouth engulfs yours in a rough, hungry kiss at the same moment he slides a thick digit into your cunt, and he swallows down the whimpering cry of pleasure that spills out of you. His lips are relentless as they slot against yours, and you arch into him, every part of your body drawn to his blazing touch on your skin. 

You can taste the remnants of your breastmilk on Kento’s lips, but you don’t care as you let him slip his tongue into your mouth. He kisses you so deeply it makes your toes curl, one hand cradling the back of your head while he stuffs a second finger into your hole. 

And just when you thought you couldn’t get any more sensitive under his touch, he dips his head back down to continue ravishing your forgotten breasts, pumping his soaked fingers in and out of your pussy all the while. 

“Kento,” you whimper, chest heaving as you press your heels into the cabinets below, every muscle in your body going taut under the onslaught of arousal coursing through you. 

“Can you come for me?” he asks, his gravelly, barely restrained tone searing itself into your mind. 

It’s the combination of his thumb massaging circles into your sensitive bundle of nerves and the sight of milk dripping down his chin as he messily drinks from you that sends you tumbling over the edge, the rubber band inside of you snapping like a whip as your orgasm washes over you. There’s an unfamiliar feeling that accompanies it, clear liquid squirting from your cunt and soaking the front of Kento’s dress shirt. 

Kento’s eyes darken a fraction as he grasps your chin, thumb pressing into your bottom lip. “Good girl,” he murmurs, kissing you. “Good fucking girl.”

Hand reaching between your bodies, you grasp his cock through his slacks, marveling at how maddeningly thick he feels. 

“I want you to fuck me now, Kento,” you tell him in no uncertain terms, rubbing your palm up and down his erection for good measure. “Fuck me like I’m a bad girl.”

Kento growls, hand palming the side of your neck, thumb caressing your collarbones, “You have no fucking clue what you do to me.”

“Show me.”

You’ve hardly had a chance to unbutton his pants before he’s slipping your panties down, stuffing them into his pocket. His hands come up to undo his tie, but rather than tossing the silky material aside, he asks, “Do you trust me?”

You nod in response, and he steps around the island, pulling your hands behind your back and tying your wrists together snugly with the yellow and black material. Anticipation zings through your chest, a fresh wave of arousal dripping from your sensitive cunt. 

“Is that too tight?”

You shake your head. “It’s perfect.”

He wastes no time in shedding the rest of his clothes, and you find yourself pressing hard against the restraints once you see his cock in all its glory, thick and flushed and so fucking big that you whimper.  

You spread your legs wide for him again as he steps between them, rubbing the leaking head of his cock against your damp slit. He notches it at your entrance, tilting your chin to his mouth and dragging your bottom lip between his teeth before he murmurs, “You’re perfect.”

Kento’s hands grasp your hips as he notches his cock at your dripping entrance, slowly easing into you. He massages your breasts, his hot mouth nipping and lapping a trail from your shoulder to the sensitive spot behind your earlobe while he pushes deeper into your cunt. When he eventually bottoms out, you’re both breathing hard, and his tie is fighting for its life to keep your wrists bound behind you. 

“Are you okay?” 

You let out a huff of air, your entire body poised to implode with the weight of the lust and pleasure raging inside of you. “Fuck me like you mean it, Kento.”

Whatever thinly veiled restraint was left in him crumbles to dust at your request, and Kento tugs you closer to the edge of the counter as he begins to pound into your cunt at a ruthless pace, splitting you open right in the middle of your kitchen. The cool marble is slick and sticky beneath you, covered in a myriad of filthy fluids that continue to leak out of you. 

“So beautiful,” he grunts, punctuating each word with a rough snap of his hips. 

“I feel like a whore,” you admit, biting your lower lip, tits bouncing heavily with his punishing thrusts. 

A short, dark laugh escapes Kento’s lips, his brows raising. He leans in, stuffing his cock deep into your cunt as he presses his mouth to yours and murmurs, “Well you’re my pretty, filthy whore.”

If your husband talked to you like this, you’d slap him. But from Kento…the liquid heat that churns in your belly is anything but anger. 

“Am I?” you ask, trying to sound as innocent as you can when he’s balls deep inside of you. 

“Yeah,” he rasps, not missing a beat as he catches on to what you want to hear. He squeezes your tits, milk squirting everywhere. “My dirty slut. You’re such a good girl, making a such a fucking mess. Squirting all over me while your tits leak everywhere.”

You gasp as he leans down, burying his face in your tits, latching on to one of your nipples and drinking deeply from you again. The combined feeling of him sucking on your breasts and the push and drag of his shaft inside of you leaves you cock drunk, begging and babbling senselessly as tears of pleasure prick at the corners of your eyes.

“Wanna put another baby in you, keep these nice and round and full for me,” he grunts, letting milk spray from your tits and leak down your bodies, dripping down his cock and coating his balls. 

The thought leaves you dizzy and breathless, keening as you imagine Kento filling you over and over with his seed. Waking up each morning to his cock already stuffed inside of you, fucking the previous night’s cum right back into your needy cunt. Tying you up to your bed posts with that goddamn tie. The satisfaction on his face when your breasts grow heavy and your belly grows round again for him, awakening something so feral inside of him he’s incapable of keeping his mouth off of your tits and his cock from the heat between your thighs whenever you’re alone. 

Rational thinking is a thing of the past as you choke out, nearly sobbing with pleasure, cunt squelching wetly as he pounds into you, “Fill me, Kento. Please.”

Kento curses, leaning in to caress the side of your face as he mutters, “My filthy girl.”

“Yours,” you pant. “I’m yours.”

He captures your mouth in a deep, heated kiss, fingers grasping your hips for purchase as he plunges into your cunt, drawing shuddering, unabashed moans out of you. “Come all over my cock then,” he instructs, his rough tone dragging down your spine, fingers toying with your clit while your pussy clenches down on every inch of him. 

And when he leans down, holding eye contact with you as he licks up a forgotten trail of milk rolling down one of your tits, there’s nothing that can stop the searing explosion of pleasure that ignites inside of you, your entire body trembling with the relentless, burning hot flood of the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had. 

He follows moments after you, driving his length in to the hilt as he groans, fingers gripping you tightly, his thick cock pulsing heavily inside of you as he fills your cunt deeply with ropes of cum. As fucked out as you feel, you can’t help but whine at the ceaseless arousal that stirs within your gut as your pussy quivers around the stretch of his cock, milking every drop of Kento’s seed from him. 

Kento feels you subtly rocking your hips back into him, and his answering chuckle is like warm honey as he reaches between you. He plays with your overstimulated clit, pressing gentle kisses along your jaw and down the side of your neck as his seed begins to leak out of you. You moan softly, head falling against his shoulder, pleasure mounting inside of you once more. Leveraging what remains of his softening cock, he slowly fucks his cum back inside of you, his rough whispers of praise a warm caress against the shell of your ear as your entire body dissolves into one last blissful climax that leaves you completely boneless. 

You have all of two minutes to bask in the afterglow, Kento’s hands and lips tenderly mapping out your body, when the sound of your phone ringing on the countertop beside you startles you both. Your gaze meets his as you both see the unwelcome name that flashes on the screen, and he promptly flips your phone over and scoops you into his arms as he makes his way toward the living room.

“If I’m working overtime, I’m making this a double shift.”

— likes, comments, & reblogs are appreciated!

#kento nanami x reader #nanami x reader #nanami kento #kento nanami #nanami kento x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen smut #nanami smut #kento nanami smut #jjk #jjk smut #dee writes

[a-hazbin-reader]

A Alastor x wife!reader where reader has been wanting a family and finally by some miracle she discovers she's pregnant

Just a thought 🫠

You are not even the third person to ask for this and we're all already delusional here soooooo-

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Sadness, Reader has baby fever and spreads it to her husband unintentionally, A little angst, Implied baby making 😉

Description: 👆⬆️

Alastor would do anything for his wife, spare no expense for her happiness and it shows

You two have talked previously about your obvious desire for a family with him

He would be willing to give that to you even though he's admittedly not the biggest fan of the idea

Part of him is scared of being a father but he won't ever admit that

You two both knew that sinners couldn't reproduce, and it crushed you that the opportunity was taken from you

You were still happy to have your husband and your found family at the hotel

You just still had that desire to have a baby, your husband's baby to be exact

Alastor hates seeing you so hurt over this, he wants to fix things for you, but this is out of his control

He couldn't give you a baby no matter how hard he tried, and that makes him feel helpless, which makes him angry

Sometimes the longing for a baby and the despair of knowing you can't have one gets to be too much for you and you unintentionally draw into yourself

Not amount of hugging or soothing words from your husband can console you, no matter how hard you cling to him and seek his comfort

You're just so sad sometimes

Which leads to Alastor being frosty and agitated with the others around the hotel, upset that he can't just fix it

He would give you the biggest family if he could, whatever he could do to make you feel whole

It's not like you two are neglecting each other or growing apart, there's just this heavy feeling hanging between you two

Everyone knows something is up with you two, but nobody is brave enough to ask, except maybe Vaggie, but she's respecting your privacy as a couple

Of course, it's Charlie who tries to get to the bottom of things for the two of you, everyone is just worried you two are fighting

So when you finally relent and tell her the truth, she's relieved that you and Alastor only want to have a baby-

YOU AND ALASTOR WANT TO HAVE A BABY!?

Sinners can't reproduce so you're just riding out your baby fever until it's manageable again

But no sinner has had a friend in the Morningstar family before

Not even a day later Alastor is greeted by Lucifer while you're out with Charlie and the others

"Hey man, heard you wanted me to get your wife pregnant! Lucky for you, I happen to have a thing for married women~"

When you come back home you're surprised to see Lucifer and your husband talking amicably, both turning their heads towards you immediately

"Ah! Would you look at the time? I should really get going, things to do, ducks to make-what?"

Lucifer gives you an unexpected side hug on his way out, hand resting momentarily on your stomach before leaving

You rub where he touched, surprised by the sudden warmth that lingers there

Your husband is looking at you strangely too but kisses you in greeting before you can even question it

Alastor acts rather clingy the rest of the day, following you around, asking you how you're feeling, giving affection more freely

You can't deny that you're loving the attention and soaking up every bit of it, the warmth in your stomach having spread throughout your entire body now

If Alastor's sudden neediness is anything to go by, he's feeling the same as you are

How either of you manage to wait until everyone has gone to bed to indulge in each other is beyond you

The entire night is a blur but when you wake up the entire bed has nearly been torn apart

Feathers are all over the place, the blankets have all been kicked away or shredded, the bed frame is clawed and cracked

You would almost feel embarrassed, but when you look at your handiwork on your husband, you can't help but feel proud

Things mostly go back to normal after that, except Lucifer visits more often and seems to pay special attention to you

You feel like everyone is watching you lately and you don't know why, you're never alone anymore, your husband especially is very hovery

But it ends up working out in your favor because one day you wake up, overwhelmed by the urge to vomit, your husband holding back your hair

And it keeps happening for days on end, and you start gaining weight without explanation, and your cravings are suddenly intense and-

Your husband is looking a little too pleased with himself, rubbing your back soothingly as you poke at your mysteriously changing body in the mirror

"You did this to me somehow, didn't you!"

"Why honey, why would I need to babytrap you when we're already married?"

"Because you-what?"

It takes a few moments to register what he said, all the strange things in the last few months clicking into place

"You got me pregnant..?"

He actually starts to look a little embarrassed, suddenly unsure if he really did the right thing after all-

When did he end up on the bed?

Is definitely sure in his decision later when he exits the bedroom, fixing his hair and clothes while he leaves you sleeping in bed

Luckily, the hotel has a lot of people who are willing to help out with your pregnancy because Alastor is worried he's actually in over his head

Your mood swings are more like mood hurricanes and sometimes he needs help knowing the right things to say

"Y/N, don't worry about not fitting into your own clothes, this is uh...just an opportunity to get new ones!"

"T-Thanks Vaggie..."

The cravings start to get fucking weird, Alastor genuinely repulsed by some of the things you're asking him for

"Darling, I can get you fresh meat as bloody as you want but do you really need to eat it with cake and ice cream?"

"Don't you love me..?"

He'll be back in 10 minutes

The bigger you get, the more sore and tired you are, constantly needing help around the hotel as you waddle around

"Thanks for helping me, Husk...I was getting really tired."

"Charlie, is it alright if I sit in that chair? My back is killing me.."

Alastor is scared with how vulnerable you are like this so he sticks close to you but silently appreciates the help from everyone

Even the other overlords come to see your miracle pregnancy, which doesn't help with Alastor's paranoia over how defenseless you are right now

They just want to see

As if Carmilla or Rosie would let anything happen to you anyways, Rosie loves the crap out of you and Carmilla wouldn't hurt an expecting mother

Rosie is constantly visiting and bringing baby gifts, so many that they're starting to pile up around the hotel

"Oh darling, you're practically glowing! Alastor! Have you told Y/N how radiant she is with her pregnancy?"

She wants to be Aunty Rosie so bad

Alastor genuinely admires the changes in your body, feeling pride in the thought that he did this to you

"With a little help from the big boss of-"

"You haven't left already?"

"I want to talk to my god child~ Can you stop hogging Y/N's belly for five minutes?"

"Your what now?

Alastor rubs your belly a lot, baffled by the idea that his spawn is in there and how happily you carry it

How you're so proud to be having his kid is beyond him, he knows what a wretched man he is and you still love him, take pride in him

The first time he feels the baby kick, he's a little unnerved but then you guide his hand back, smiling at him in a way that makes his heart ache for you

"Our baby wants to say hi to you..."

Okay, now his heart is melting, give your husband a kiss right now

Starts kissing and talking to your belly more after that, talking to the baby about anything and everything as if you're not even there

"Now your mother, you have no idea how lucky she is to have me as her husband~"

Confides in you late one night, about his fear of being a father and failing you and the baby

Not him having tears pinpricking in the corners of his eyes as you kiss him and reassure him

He doesn't particularly care about the gender of his child, just that you and the little spawn are okay

But if the baby is a girl, then he would like her to have his mother's name, that's all he would ask really

If the baby is a boy then he'll let you pick the name out as long as it's something fancy sounding

Does all the work when it comes to the nursery and baby proofing but has no idea what that actually entails, so you'll have to help him out

He's so proud to show you the finished look

The closer it gets to your due date, the more out of sorts and anxious he is but he tries to put on a brave face for you

He makes sure you never have to lift a finger, doing everything he can to make you comfortable and spending all his free time with you

Carmilla and her daughters all volunteer to assist in the labor, Zestial coming for the sake of tagging along

Alastor is in genuine anguish when you actually go into labor, the sound of you in pain and him being helpless to help is torture for him

Refuses to leave your side the entire time, blocking out everything else but you and encouraging you as best he can

Focuses so hard on taking care of you that he hardly notices that you've finished, surprised when Carmilla suddenly puts not one but two babies in your arms

You're visibly exhausted but seem to gain a renewed energy at the sight of your babies, looking at them in wonder before giving Alastor a tearful smile

"A boy and a girl, a miracle on top of already being miracle babies. Congratulations, Alastor."

Carmilla pats him on the shoulder before leaving, pulling Zestial and her daughters along with her

Alastor doesn't even register what she said, still dumbfounded at the sight of you cooing at two squirming infants

TWINS!? Lucifer, you sneaky son of a bi-

"Do you want to hold them, Alastor?"

"I would love nothing more, my dear..."

He definitely doesn't immediately fall in love when his babies cling to him like they'll never let go, holding his fingers in their unbelievably tiny hands

A LITTLE TREAT FOR ALL OF YOU WHO WERE BEGGING FOR THIS

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