When Satoru stumbles upon your period tracker and finds out what the dates dotted blue mean, he suddenly can’t stop staring at you those days. He'd always thought you were gorgeous, but there's something about him knowing that stuffing you full of his cum could possibly put a baby in you any moment.
You're extra sensitive. You swat his hand instinctively when he mindlessly brushes his fingertips across your exposed sides saying, "hey, that tickles!" and that immediately gets him hard.
You're so sensitive when you ovulate that he finally realizes why some days you cry out louder than others, when the simple loving pecks he leaves on your clit causes you to twitch and mewl.
You're fucking glowing. Your skin, your stomach, your breasts, all softer and plumper to his eyes. Even the way you smell sends him into a frenzy.
And seeing his cum drip out of your throbbing pussy sends a shiver down his spine. You look so charged, so sweet, and so fertile. It doesn't take him long before he's hard again and he stuffs his cum back into you - he doesn't like to waste his seed, apparently, opting to cum in you and only in you when you're ovulating.
Monster surrogacy isn’t a job for most people, but you love it.
You were pregnant with a litter of werewolf pups when you met with a new customer.
Instantly, you recognized him as a vampire. He was tall and pale, closing an umbrella as he walked into your workplace.
“Are you… currently available?”
His red eyes shift to your swollen belly, which instantly answered his question. You still gave him a polite, if sheepish, smile.
“Ah, not at the moment. I’m-“
He stepped forward, eyes still focused on your baby bump. “… do you perhaps… let people sample you before they impregnate you?”
The hunger in his eyes was palpable, his voice becoming more husky and deeper with each word. It seemed just seeing you there, heavy and pregnant, was enough to get him going.
You glanced down at your belly, then to the back room. “I suppose so, as long as you’re gentle…”
His hand moved down to the fat of your hips, his other using your pregnant belly as leverage as he fucked into you.
“Fuck…” he murmured into your ear, his fangs brushing agaisnt your neck. When he noticed milk beading at your nipples, he reached up to grope and knead them.
He was faster than the werewolf you had before. Though his cock didn’t swell and knot inside of you, it moved so quick and found your g-spot within seconds.
Milk spurted from your heavy tits as he came inside of you, his teeth sinking into your neck. He didn’t draw much blood, just enough for a quick taste before he pulled away.
He dressed quietly, eyeing you up the entire time as you cleaned his cum from your trembling thighs.
“… once you are recovered from pregnancy, I will request your services again. I require an heir.”
With that he walked out of your store, leaving you excited for his next appointment.
making nanamii a father... for real
𓏲︀𓂃 ֶָ֢ pt.2 of this tomodachi life fic
when he said "talk to me when you're ready to have a real family," you thought he was joking.
as luck would have it, he was dead serious— dead serious about giving you the silent treatment and making you a mother.
"finally" is the first thing you've heard him say in nearly twelve hours. if it weren't for you putting the switch down (albeit begrudgingly), you would've forgotten about his vow of silence completely.
"now," he starts, far too serious for a man mad at a few pixels, "are you ready to have a real family?"
"sure, dork," you say, giggling in a way that says 'i have no idea what i'm getting myself into.'
"are you absolutely, completely irrevocably sure? this is you we're talking about."
frighteningly oblivious, you still think he's pulling your leg. you nod along without question. "yes, kento," you sigh. "can we get on with this?"
something in the air around him shifts, something so imperceptible, only you could notice. oh, you definitely shouldn't have said that.
with an intensity that you've never seen, he drags you to the bedroom and shuts the door, sealing your fate.
you really did think he was joking, but the way you're stuffed to the brim with dick, ready to be bred, you're wholly wrong.
"'m—fuck!— sorry!" brain hazy, you babble apologies endlessly. there's no telling if he's actually listening to (or cares) about them; he's too busy thrusting impossibly deep, fucking like he wants twins.
if it weren't for your current mental state, embarrassment would be charging through you. exposed is an understatement for your soul-bearing position. you're completely entwined, bodies moving in effortless synchronicity.
the worst part is how he's fucking you: firm and deep, hips snapping, yet not rough or unnecessarily fast. though he's trying to control himself, you can't help but feel how desperately he wants to fill you with his seed.
"need me to fill you up, don't you?"
you moan whorishly at his words. "yes, ken, yesyesyes!"
no man but nanami can fuck you like this, break you into fine pieces with his body alone, then put you back together again with affection worthy of endless praise.
"open up for me," he murmurs, strained voice bouncing around in your empty head. he says it innocently as can be, at least, as innocently as he can while buried inside of you.
you oblige quickly, but not quick enough for nanami.
a strong hand hoists your legs up, hips aching slightly from the new angle. maneuvered into a mating press, you're caged by nothing but sweaty, entangled limbs.
the new angle has him massaging your sweet spots on every down stroke. your poor ass jiggles from the force of his precise thrusts. he feels how you clench around him so tightly, wondering if you'll do the same while carrying his child.
your blissed out look has his balls tightening and his mind racing. just as your head rolls for the nth time, his hand grips your jaw to face him.
"which is better? me, or the game?"
the question comes from left field. delirious, your face crinkles into confusion. he picks up on it easily, leaning down to whisper directly into your ear.
"which is better, baby? our kids, or the fake ones?" his voice is even, but you can still hear the uptick in his voice at the mention of the reason you're folded up in the first place.
"o-ours," you mumble.
"perfect answer, gorgeous." he places a tender kiss on your forehead, cradling it in his warm hands.
you don't notice the humour of the situation, too hungry to care about anything but cumming or being cummed in. fortunately for you, nanami is still committed to finishing both of you off.
for every nudge of his head against your deepest corners, you're an inch closer to that sweet release. he could cum anytime now, yet he holds himself back, and for good reason— giving you the first taste of heaven will assure that his seed takes.
thankfully, he won't need to hold back much longer.
"kento," you mewl, "it's close!"
"what's close, baby?"
you mewl again, fumbling around the question. "i need to cum, ken!"
nanami's thrusts suddenly turn unbearable. he takes on a new angle, hips shifted just right.
god, it's so overstimulating, has you gripping his arms for dear life. he pushes you right to that edge, nearly makes you finish early. his head throws back at the vice of your cunt, pussy squeezing so hard in hopes of not disobeying your lover.
on the edge of his own orgasm, he pauses for the first time in what feels like hours. fully seated inside, he grants you that sweet, sweet, permission.
"cum for me, mama."
and you do, so fucking hard.
your body reacts before you can. eyes fully rolled back, legs locked and walls clamped, you cum harder than ever. pleasure has taken hold of you and there's no stopping it. a small "i'm cumming" is caught in your throat on a silent scream.
"theeere, you go. just cum for me." he lowers his forehead to yours in unbearable ecstasy. his eyes gulp down every twitch of your face with need. the exact start, peak, and drawn out end of your earth shattering orgasm is tattooed to the back of his eyelids.
the sight sends him over the edge. he finishes with a painful groan against your quivering lips. overstimulated, he can't bear the pleasure of his orgasm, either. he nearly collapses on top of you.
the mattress rocks under the force of him, his jerking hips shaking it. he stays buried deep, afraid that if he pulls out too far, precious seed will spill; an insult to your shared hard work.
both of you take a long moment to fully come down from your highs. nanami doesn't get off of you immediately despite being covered in sweat from golden crown to toe.
you stay slotted together for a while—legs spread lazily, slick and filled to the brim with cum.
"see," he whispers against your skin, "our kids are better than that lurid game's."
"we don't have any kids, dummy," you argue with the last of your strength. he huffs a laugh, warm air tickling your skin.
when he stuffs you so full of his cum that your poor, aching hole couldn’t possibly hold it all. but he still clicks his tongue as he watches it pathetically leak out of you (tsk, what a waste), pressing meanly down on your belly to force more out while he decides which position to fuck you in next.
when you ask your dear friend kyle to help you with your pregnancy, you expect him to donate some sperm, drive you to your ivf appointments, etc etc.
what you don't expect is him to press your knees to your chest one evening, slamming his cock so deep inside of you that you swear you can feel it entering your womb.
"s'fuckin' good for me," he groans, applying more pressure to the back of your thighs, "takin' my cock like a champ, baby," somehow he manages to thrust deeper, a soft whine leaving your lips.
he doesn't stop praising you throughout the whole ordeal, admiration entering one ear then shooting down into your body, pussy squeezing after every phrase.
such a sweet girl. absolutely perfect. gonna be such a good mama.
the way you tighten up at that last bit has kyle gritting his teeth, eyes clenched up before opening to reveal fully dilated pupils, "yeah? you like when i call you that? mama?" the word gets the same physical reaction from you, and kyle grins.
he adjusts himself, chest nearly touching yours as he raises his hips till only the tips insde. then, he slams home.
"can't wait to make you a mama. gonna ruin this cunt every day till it takes. yeah? you want that?" the drag of his cock inside of you is so distracting, addicting. you almost don't answer his question, but the high-pitched mewl he punches out of you is answer enough.
he keeps talking to you, how excited he is to watch your soft belly expand, to see your tits swell up, have your stretchmarks extend.
you hear him say something along the lines of i'll be such a good daddy, mama, jus' you wait, but you blame the cotton in your ears. after all, the only thing you can focus on is the warm feeling of his cum coating your insides and making good on his previous promises.
"Fuck, baby, gotta get you pregnant.. Please let me make you a mama, love, please please please..." Everytime Simon fucked you he begged to cum inside. He never wore a condom in hopes you'd finally say yes, spilling himself on the outside of your cunt.
"Si - can't. I can't -"
"You can!" Simon pleas desperately, pulling your head to the side so he can look at you. "Look, so good swollen full of me... I'll be a good Papa, Mommy, I swear. Please -" His hips stutter inside of you, your eyes rolling back when he cums deep inside you.
"Si!" You protest, gasping when his calloused fingers find your throbbing clit. "Supposed to pull out, you fucki -" Your toes curl into the bedsheets as your orgasm rolls through you, sobbing softly when he keeps stimulating you.
"That's it, mommy... I'll be so good for you, so so good." He huffs into your ear, his thumb swiping back and forth over your sensitive bud. "Just a few more, love. You can take it."
"You did this to me." You glare at Simon from where he was kneeling between your thighs, just barely visible over you belly bump. "Are you happy? Huh? Proud of yourself, you dick head?" Simon keeps massaging your swollen feet, pressing a soft kiss to your belly. He knew you were so hungry, but your food wasn't done cooking yet. He didn't mind the small bouts of verbal abuse.
"I'm sorry, love. The pork just needs to finish cooking." He assures as he moves up to massaging your ankles.
"You're not sorry at all." You grumble over the sound of your hungry stomach. "I can't believe we're having a baby." You sigh as you rub your stretched skin, smiling when you feel your baby kicking softly. "Hey, give me your hand."
Simon almost protested, but you already had his wrist in hand, letting him feel the baby's foot as she kicked. "That's all you, Papa... Can't wait for you to met her."
I’m lowk also obsessed with prices little housewife. He keeps her tucked away in the country, a nice house with a wrap around porch and lots of yard for the kids to play in. Five bouncing, yelling, giggling children and one on the way. Price needs somewhere calm and quiet to settle when he finally gets home after one of those missions.
His body sore, his mind still racing of every mistake that went wrong during the mission, every life that was lost. He just wants somewhere to settle with his family, coming home to his children hounding him, his wife pulling out fresh muffins from the oven. Spreading his warm palm over the swell of her belly, everything seems a lot easier when he’s home.
Maybe he should retire soon, spend the rest of his days watching his children grow, getting a thick layer of fat over his tummy from how much his wife feeds him, wifey taking his thick cock night after night until baby number seven is on the way.
