Kita Shinsuke, my beloved.

Tamsy's hands guide you to slide up and down his shaft, trying so hard to be slow for you, even if it's pure torture for him; because his cock is so thick and hot inside you that every time his tip hits just right on your sweet spot you let out a sultry moan. He tries to cover your mouth with his bigger hand but it's useless, you're just so loud.

"It's t-too much Tamsy... Ngh!—" You try to stifle your moan as he slowly guides your hips down until he bottoms out. You wiggle in his grasp.

"Just try to be quiet; can you do that for me, angel? I know you can take it," He whispers, pressing his palm over your mouth more firmly. Who knows who might be casually passing down the hall, or who might be listening to you making those sounds worthy of a porn star.

You place your hands down on his chest, preparing yourself for the next thrust of his hips, your eyes connect with his, your gaze is pure lust and completely lost by the feeling of fullness between your thighs.

He slides you up, then begins to thrust his hips against yours. One hand squeezes your hips tight enough to leave marks, the other covers your mouth. You clench your fists, eyes roll back from pleasure, but you still let out a high-pitched moan when he speeds up and skin slaps skin.

'You're just a sensitive little thing aren't you?'

He decides to take a better measure, his hand slides down to your neck and he squeezes firmly till your vision's blurry and your airflow is cut off; so is your voice. And you definitely enjoy it, you bite your lip and try to gasp for air as you start bouncing on his lap more eagerly.

A smug grin is plastered on his face when he realizes he found a way to effectively shut your pretty mouth up, one that made you cum right then and there on his cock, and definitely not just because you almost fainted due to lack of air in your lungs.

_____________________________

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE OKAY?!

He bottomed out, pressing the dull head of his weeping cock into the soft, velvety wall of your cervix. He has to swallow a groan, you’re fucking ovulating. 

“I-I want a baby, Sy…” you feel your lips trembling as you speak, one hand shaking as it detaches from his shoulder to cup his flushed, sweaty cheek. “Don’t say things in the heat of the moment you don’t mean, kitten.” He presses a little harder, punishingly, as if testing your resolve.

You mewl, hips instinctively jerking up but he grips your hips harder to drag you back down. “M’not saying something I-I don’t mean, Sy.”

You’re gasping, clenching around his throbbing cock as he mercilessly keeps you pinned in place.

“You’re speaking from a place of clouded judgment.” He reasons, not hurt or turned off, just trying to rationalize your sudden confession. “Sylus, I’m being s-so serious…!”

Still, he looks down at you quizzically. It sets a fire in your stomach, anger bubbling through the pleasure as you draw your other hand from his shoulder to grab on to the other side of his face. It was nearly a slap, enough to startle him into blinking down at you as if he’d just realized what predicament you were both currently in. 

“Why is it so hard for you to believe I’d want to have a baby with you? You’re my husband, Sylus.” You were so full of him, so pressed together it was truly impossible to tell where one started at the other ended. Those words seem to rattle something deep within his core, the crimson of his eye grew blinding for a moment. “Say that again.” 

“You’re my husband, Sylus. I want to have your babies.”

The metal of your wedding band had long since adapted to the heat of his skin, resting smoothly against his beautifully flushed cheekbone.

“Give me a baby, Sylus. I want your baby so bad, I want to have a family with you. M’not just saying it because you’re making me feel so-so good…” 

He’s twitching, every word is sending his body into overdrive and yet his mind can’t seem to catch up. He’s staring at you, mouth cutely agape, unable to make his hips restart their motion. “Sylus, please.”

You attempt to move for him, but his grip is still iron on your skin. He’s keeping you in place, breathing heavy as he tries so desperately to sort himself. “Sylus, if you give me a baby, I’ll finally do it. I’ll join Onychinus.” Your last ditch effort, before adding oh so softly “Unless… you don’t want to have babies with me. I understand…”

There it is, the actual slap back to reality.

No words can convey what he wants to say in that moment, but thankfully, his body finally obeys him. You’re smothered by his mouth, lips melding perfectly against your own and swallowing up any doubts that had begun to creep into your mind. His hips move with brutal force once more, pounding you so deeply the bed creaks.

“There is nothing…” he’s gasping into your open mouth, your jaw having gone slack from pleasure. “…I’d want more in this life…” he’s so close, and judging by the way you’re clamping down around him, so are you. “…than to have a family with you. Don’t you dare ever think otherwise.”

If you weren’t melting from the pleasure radiating in your lower half, you’d give him shit for giving you such major whiplash. Though, you couldn’t necessarily blame him, could you? You did kind of spring this on him mid-fuck…

“Sylus m’gonna…” your hands slide back, leaving his face to bury themselves in the damp strands of silvery hair. You tug hard, crushing his lips against yours once more. You don’t need his verbal encouragement, not when his hand is slipping between your bodies to start circling your clit.

Your orgasm ruins you, stars spotting your vision as you nearly tug a chunk of his hair clean from his scalp. You barely process the fact that he’s cumming with you, filling you just as you asked him to.

“Thank you, thank you…” you manage, a lazy, breathless smile on your face as you pull away from him. Sylus, however, is smirking down at your fucked out expression.

“Don’t thank me until we know it sticks…” thumbing the sweat from your temple, he mutter softly. “Maybe a couple more rounds? Now that I know what you’re looking for me to do, I have to make sure I’m thorough…”

The first time you see Ghost is not the first time you speak to him. 

Admittedly, bumping into him was your fault. It was a busy day, and Captain Price had emailed you a hefty amount of paperwork to sort and get signed. You didn’t even have time to actually say sorry– just an apologetic smile before you’d scurried off to get the document signed. You’d left a proper note on his desk with a tin of the tea you’d seen him drinking.

He didn’t approach you after that– not that you were expecting him to– but you did notice his stares from across the room.

Soap tried to comfort you, insisting that the Lieutenant doesn’t hate you. It’s hard to believe that as you watch him stalk over to the table where you and the sergeants sit. 

“Lt, what can I give ye a haun with?” Johnny asks, grinning up at him. 

Ghost’s eyes are set on you unblinking. Gaz glances over at you, brow raised as if you have any clue what’s going on either. You fidget in your spot; the only thing you can hear is your heart beating in your chest. 

“Been lookin’ for you, gonna ‘ave to take you out.” His voice comes out flat as he stares down at you. Your eyes widen when you notice the knife proudly displayed on his hip. 

Your blood runs cold, and you quickly jump up from your chair. “No need! I was just about to leave anyway,” you nervously laugh before scurrying off– feeling his eyes follow you the whole way.

The next time the two of you speak is a week later, when you step outside for a breath of fresh air. He leans against the side of the building and puts out his cigarette the second he sees you. 

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t realize anyone else was out here,” you meekly apologize, pressing yourself against the wall in a poor attempt to hide away. 

He’s silent as he approaches, slowly walking towards you before grabbing at your shoulder, forcing you to crouch down with him. “See that?” He points to the dirt, and you squint. 

It’s… a group of bugs– small, black, with weird antennas. You glance over at him only to find he’s already looking at you. You muster up a smile and nod. 

“Dermestid beetles, sometimes called hide beetles,” he says, reaching out a hand to let one crawl across his finger. “Used a lo’ in forensics, they feed on ‘uman carcasses. Can estimate the time of death.”

He reaches his hand out to you, eyes locked onto you as he waits for something– you’re not sure what. You swallow your nerves and reach out a finger, gently running it along the back of the bug. 

His eyes widen for a moment, and you’re hoping you didn’t offend him. You quickly pull your hand away, watching as he gently sets the beetle back on the ground.

He stands up, staring down at you before nodding and walking away– this time, it’s your eyes trailing after him. 

One of the perks of working on a military base is the state-of-the-art gym you have 24/7 access to for free. You don’t really have a set routine; you normally just show up randomly when you need to destress. 

You yelp, pausing the cycling machine when you suddenly feel someone standing behind you. Honestly, you shouldn’t be surprised that somebody else had the idea to work out at nearly midnight.

“Didn’ mean to scare you.” Ghost’s voice comes from behind you. You quickly stand up and turn around to face him– not realizing just how close he is to you.

You stumble back, and his hands reach out to stop you from falling over. “Sorry, I’m just jumpy, probably wasn’t the best idea to have such a late-night workout,” you admit, staring up at him.

“Trouble sleepin’?”

You give a non-committal hum. “Something like that… just needed to blow off some steam.”

Your heart threatens to jump out of your chest as his fingers delicately trace up and down your arm, rubbing soft circles onto your wrist. His eyes never leave your face, staring at you as if he’s calculating something in his mind. “Y’ got tough skin, solid bones– bet they wouldn’t snap easy. Could spar if y’want?”

For a brief moment, your mind betrays you; images of him on top of you flash in front of you.

You think about his lips hovering over your neck and how nice the pressure of his body on yours would be. Your breath stops, and you swear you can already feel his heavy weight caging you in between his body and the floor. 

You quickly shake your head– both an answer and an attempt to ward off the traitorous thoughts. “No, I should probably head to sleep. Price needs me to help with a meeting pretty early.”

He nods, dropping your wrists, before heading towards the weights.

As you walk back to your barracks, you find yourself missing the brief feeling of his skin against yours.

It’s one of those mornings where anything that can go wrong has.  Your alarm didn’t go off, so you had to rush to get dressed. You couldn’t stop for your morning coffee, and you know your lunch is sitting on your kitchen counter, spoiling away.

It shouldn't upset you this much, but anytime your routine gets disrupted, it throws your whole day off.

Venting about it to your favorite co-worker helped a little, but as you walk back to your office, all you can think about is how miserable it’ll be to wait until you get home to finally be able to eat something.

When you finally sit down at your desk, you’re shocked to see a brown paper bag that looks like it’s seen better days. You stare for a second, glancing around your empty office as if someone’s going to jump out at any moment. 

You slowly empty the contents: a water bottle, your favorite brand of chips, and a peanut butter sandwich. You pick up the bag and inspect it, flipping it over to find a small note scrawled on it. ‘Made this for you,” followed by Ghost’s signature and the tiniest doodle of a smiley face.

Upon further inspection, the water bottle’s been opened, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he’s drunk from it.  The sandwich is slightly stale– you’re pretty sure the bread is expired. You’re also not sure how he knew you forgot your lunch, but the effort is endearing.

After devouring the chips, you hunt him down, finally finding him sitting with his team. “Everything alright, love?” Price questions.

You nod, pretending not to notice the way Ghost tenses up at the term of endearment. “I just wanted to tell the Lieutenant thank you. I forgot my lunch, and he was kind enough to drop one off for me.”

Gaz looks at you, pity in his eyes. “And you… ate it?” 

You glance at Ghost, no longer surprised to find him staring at you. “Yeah? I mean, should I not have?” You laugh despite your words not being a total joke.

You watch as the sergeants exchange glances before shrugging at you. Your smile falters, and you nervously fiddle with the hem of your shirt. “Right, well, I have to get back to some paperwork, but uh, thank you really, Ghost.”

“Simon. Call me Simon.” It goes silent for a moment, Soap’s eyes comically wide as he gawks at you.

“Oh, wow, that’s– okay. Thank you, Simon,” you whisper, an electric feeling crawling down your spine.  

His mask slips a little, showing just the tiniest hint of his nose and cheeks– you swear for a second you can see a pink flush on the sliver of skin. “You’re welcome, dove,” he mumbles, looking anywhere but at you.

You blinked, head tilted at the sudden term of endearment– this is good, right? You don’t give people you hate cute nicknames; well, you can do that too.

“See you around, big guy!” you grinned, turning around and walking off.  You didn’t get to see the way Soap’s jaw dropped, or how Gaz choked on his own laughter.

When you glance back one final time as you walk away, you lock eyes with him as he grumbles something to his now yelling teammates.

You nearly scream when you open your door to find Simon sitting stiffly on the small sofa you keep in the corner. “Sorry, you surprised me. Is there anything…” You glance at him and notice the way he’s staring straight through you. His body is stiff, and his fists are clenched as if he’ll need to swing them at any minute. 

“Rough mission, big guy?” you softly ask, placing your papers down before sitting next to him on the couch. 

You don't expect a response, but he gives one anyway. “Made a bad call, ‘s all.”

You’re not sure what to say, but he’s kind of your friend now, so you try anyway. “I have some paperwork to do. If you want to you can just sit here with me for a minute?” He doesn’t say a word, just nods, finally letting himself relax.

The silence and intense stare should make you feel uncomfortable, but instead, you find it oddly soothing.  You wonder when Simon’s presence went from something that made you tense up to a comforting heat that makes you melt.

He doesn’t speak; he knows he doesn’t have to, just watches as you quietly fill out form after form for hours.

It isn't until he's shutting your office door that he finally opens his mouth again. “Thanks, dove.”

It’s Soap who finally snaps and brings it to your attention. “Do ye ken what you’re doin’ to him bonnie?” He asks, inviting himself into your office.

You pause, setting your pen down, before glancing over at the sergeant. “I’m sorry, what am I doing and who am I doing it to?”

He groans, running a hand down his face dramatically. “Lt, yer killin’ the lad. He’s mad about you– down bad– you gotta stop toyin’ with him.”

“Simon–” He throws his hands in the air, smug grin practically screaming ‘gotcha’ at the use of the lieutenant's given name.  You ignore him and continue. “Simon is just now my friend and barely that; he hated me not too long ago!”

He looks at you, and you can’t help but shrink a little at his stare. “You’re takin’ the piss. Please, please, tell me you’re takin’ the piss.”

You open your mouth only to snap it shut when he cuts you off. “You cannae be this daft. He’s been tryin’ tae pull you for months.”

You don’t get it, not really, but it also makes sense somehow– a lot more sense than you and the lieutenant having an enemies-to-besties arc. “Oh.” 

You make your move exactly three days later, knocking on his office with shaky hands, heart in your stomach. 

“Come in.”

If he’s surprised to see you, he doesn’t show it. “Hi,” you whisper, hands behind your back. “I uh, I didn’t know you were flirting with me,” You blurt out, suddenly wishing you had prepared better.

He slowly blinks at you, taking a moment to process your words. “You didn’?” 

You shake your head, you shift your weight, and resist the urge to run and hide. “No, I actually thought you hated me at first.” He laughs at you; you should be upset– instead, you’re plotting how to get him to make that pretty sound again. 

“Silly dove, had me thinkin' you were miffed with me. ‘Course I was flirtin’. Offered to take you out, even wore my best knife, introduced you to my friends–”

You start to point out that you’d already known Soap, Price, and Gaz until it dawns on you that he’s talking about the beetles he’d shown you. “Complimented you, made you lunch, we even went on that date.”

“The day in my office does not count as a date, you know.”

Despite the mask, you can tell he’s frowning– it’s obvious in his brow furrow ever so slightly. “It doesn’?” You shake your head, and he lets out a thoughtful hum.

Before you can psych yourself out of it, you shove the tickets in his hand. He slowly twirls the paper, glancing at it front and back. “What’s this, then?”

You take a deep breath. “It’s for a taxidermy class this weekend. I thought maybe we could go together. As a date– a real one.”

His eyes widen, and he suddenly loosens his grip on the paper– treating it as if it’s something fragile. “I didn’ scare you off?”

“I mean, maybe a little at first, but I like you, Simon– a lot. I like that you call the bugs your friends, and you don’t even realize how intimidating you are. I think it’s cute that you tell little dad jokes, and it’s nice how I can just be quiet around you without it being awkward.”

He swallows and stares at you as if you’d just offered him the world– and maybe, you did. “But… I’m weird. Don't like what people normally do or get wha' they actually mean. I'm bad at touchin' and I don't know how to be normal. Price said–” 

You can’t help the laugh that falls from your mouth. “Oh my god, Simon, I just asked you on a date where we’ll stuff dead animals. I don't care what Price or anyone else says.” You give him a soft smile.

“I'm not normal either. I'm horrible with social cues. I need to have a routine, and sometimes my clothes make me feel like my skin's peeling off. I think we’re both the same kind of weird.”

He doesn't put a label on himself, so you don't either– but maybe one day you can approach the topic with him.

“Oh. Well, yeah, I’d like that.” The two of you stay like that for a moment, him sitting at his desk, you standing by it just staring at each other. “Can I hug you?”

The second you nod, he’s standing up, chair flying back at how quickly he tries to get to you.

It isn’t like the movies; your legs don’t wrap around his waist, and he doesn’t grip your hips. Instead, he bends down slightly, his arms lying stiffly on your shoulders.

He buries his nose in your hair and breathes in deeply. Your face is awkwardly smushed against his chest, and you have no choice other than to let your arms hang by your sides. 

Ever since you told Shinsuke you were pregnant, he's been walking around on cloud nine. Still, it was difficult, the first few months. You were achy, nauseous and always exhausted. Your days together had completely changed and what started as Shinsuke asking old friends and neighbors for help around the farm and house has turned into serious “Help Wanted” signs posted in town.

You're about 5 months pregnant now, and things have gotten better and simultaneously so much worse.

For one thing, your bump is noticeable now. News travels fast in a town like this, but if there was anyone who didn't know you were pregnant before, it's obvious now. Your jeans barely fit, tight around the hips and thighs – and ass, for that matter, but no complaints there. You've gone from lounging in Shinsuke's borrowed clothes to living in them entirely.

(You refuse to start shopping for maternity wear yet. There's still plenty of time and you'll outgrow everything soon anyway. Shinsuke has been trying to spoil you with pretty sundresses that fit and flow in all the right places, but you made him return all but three. He swears he doesn't pout but there's no other word for it.)

Shinsuke is…coping. He's been a good husband and a very, very strong man. You don't initiate much, which means he hasn't initiated anything.

He wants to, so badly it hurts sometimes, and that's not just a figure of speech. He's woken up hard and throbbing, rushing to the bathroom to jerk off fast enough to make his dick chafe. He sneaks out of your bed in the middle of the night to change out of cum-soaked pants after particularly sweet dreams. He's been coming home with silly little injuries because he can't focus on his work. You think he's been distracted because he's worried. How is he supposed to tell you he hurt his ankle because he missed a step as he was replaying the way your backside jiggled when you tried to jump into your jeans that day?

He's never been so pent up in his life.

You're watching TikToks while Shinsuke lies on your lap reading yet another article on nursery decorating on his phone. He's trying to focus on the words on the screen but with the growing bump behind him and your soft, plush thighs as his pillow, he finds himself a little distracted.

You're wearing one of the few dresses you kept. The hemline normally rests just above the knee but each time he shifts his head in your lap, it inches up a little. A real shame he's been so fidgety tonight.

You gasp above him and he waits for you to show him whatever video caused the reaction, but when a moment passes without follow up, he tilts his head to see you grimacing.

“What’s wrong?” The distress in his voice matches the expression on your face.

He watches you fondl- massage your breast as you whimper (in pain, he reminds himself, tearing his eyes away).

“Hurts”, is all you manage to say.

He twists awkwardly, legs still on the couch as he tries to face you. One hand supports him while the other reaches for your face.

“What can I do? How can I help?”

“It's fine. It'll pass.” you groan. “It's just. My milk has been coming in lately and it's a little sore.”

Like a reflex, Shinsuke thinks back on everything he read on the subject and he carefully moves your hand away.

“Ya can't just squeeze like that, yer gonna make it worse.” His hand gently cups.

His intentions were pure, intent on easing your pain, but the moment he has a handful of you, he almost regrets his offer. He tries to focus on remembering what he read in clinical detail. Rubbing small circles with finger tips, lessening and applying more pressure according to your reaction. He's doing a really good job ignoring the heat in his belly until you sign in relief.

He looks up to find your eyes closed, lips parted as your head tilts back. He takes a deep breath and concentrates on helping, even as he watches your face for signs of pain.

He continues his ministrations and his fingers brush your nipple. He's careful, knowing how sensitive it must be, but even still you whine. Keen might be a better word, he thinks, seeing your brows furrow. But he's momentarily distracted by the damp cotton under his fingertips.

Chancing a look, he notices a small wet spot growing, with the fabric clinging to your ripple at the center.

“Oh. You're-” leaking? Dripping? Every word that comes to mind is accompanied by the mental image of your cunt soaking his fingers, or tongue, or- “I'll get a cloth to clean ya up.”

You whine immediately in the absence of his touch. “Don't go. Feels so much better now.”

Shinsuke places his hand back on your breast, softly kneading, but he laments, “We're gonna mess up yer pretty dress, Sweetheart”. The thought actually pains him. He'd been hoping to see you wear it again soon but now he'll have to wash it first, and he hasn't read anything about breast milk staining but it is a new dress so he should really be careful and- his brain stops completely.

You're tugging your dress down by the strap, his hand pulling away just enough for you to get the fabric down. He'd been doing so well at ignoring his growing erection but he swears he can feel himself twitch in his pants at the way your breasts jiggle. He's not sure how long he stares, but you whine for him.

“Shin, please. It's starting to hurt again. This one too”

He doesn't need any more encouragement than that. Cupping your tits in each hand, he focuses on soft, gentle movements, fighting not to squeeze just to watch his fingers dig into supple skin.

Despite his best efforts, he can't look away from the pearly droplet beading at your nipple. As lightly as he can, he brushes his thumb over the bud, collecting the liquid. He won't risk taking his hand away, so he leans his head forward, licking his thumb as the rest of his fingers draw circles in your skin. He sighs contentedly at the taste and the sound, coupled with his breath ghosting over damp skin, makes you moan.

When you look down and see him pressed so close to where you're most sensitive, you place your hand at the back of his head. You don't push, but the suggestion lies in the touch anyway. He looks up at you with hungry, questioning eyes.

“It'll help,” you assure him.

That's all he needed to hear.

His lips slide over you, and for a while, his tongue just laps at you. He savors the taste of what's already spilled, the tip of his tongue dipping into the divot of your nipple until he's replaced every drop of milk with his own spit. It feels unbelievably good to have his mouth on you again. Neither of you can remember the last time he touched you like this. He squeezes your tit – just the one, lest he waste any more milk – and hums at the answering stream.

You moan at the feeling, high and needy. It's not enough for him. He hollows his cheeks a little and it surprises him how much fills his mouth this time. With both his hands on you, his head is only supported by your hands in his hair and your grip on the strands tightens as you whimper.

“Fuck, Shinsuke. Feels so good, thank you.”

The praise washes over him, clearing away any shame. He's helping you. You were in pain a second ago and now you feel good. He's doing exactly what he's supposed to do as your husband. He closes his eyes and enjoys the moment, refusing to acknowledge how painfully his cock strains against his jeans.

Time passes with heavy breathing filling the air, and the occasional whimper when Shinsuke lets his teeth graze you. Eventually, you pull him away, and he separates with a pop that seems to echo in the silence. A cold pit of dread sits in his stomach.

“You okay? Was it too much? I'm sorry, I just-”

You ignore his frantic apologies and adjust him as best as you can.

“It's okay I just. I need you on the other one now. This side doesn't hurt as bad but you could make it even better for me, yeah?”

Wordlessly, he takes your other nipple into his mouth, skipping all pretense and sucking immediately. Your previous moans were tinged with pain or relief, but he knows this one is pure pleasure. It makes him feel less bad about the thoughts he's been having.

With one hand free, he finally reaches down to relieve the pressure on his cock, simply unbuttoning his jeans and unzipping them. The sound or the movement must catch your attention because you say, “Baby… that looks painful. How long have you been like this?”

He squeezes his eyes tightly and shakes his head as hard as he can without pulling his mouth away. You hush him gently, scratching at his scalp.

“It's okay. You're making me feel so good, Shin. It's okay if you feel good too.”

That's all the permission he needs. He pulls his pants and underwear down just enough to free his cock, and he distantly notes you squirm beneath him. He won't bother looking down, but he's sure his cock is red and angry with neglect. He can feel precum soaking the head. When he finally wraps a hand around himself, he trembles so hard, he thinks he might've cum for a second.

“Fuck, Shin. That's so hot. You're too good to me, always taking such good care of me. Wouldn't even touch yourself would you, baby?”

He can't answer, too busy focusing on stream after stream of milk on his tongue as his bucks into his tight fist.

Your voice is getting shaky as you talk to him, desperate and weak. “You were about to cum in your pants, weren't you? Guess you don't mind wasting it since you already knocked me up.”

His head falls back with a punched-out groan, overwhelmed by your words, and he misses you in his mouth immediately. He sucks at your nipple – hard this time, hard enough to hurt – then spits it into his palm. Milky white spit covers his hand and he wishes he could admire the image, commit it to memory to save it for the next time you're asleep and he needs you, but there's no time. He wraps his wet hand around his cock again and pumps quickly

He hears you whisper “Jesus fucking Christ” above him, then feels your hand on him. The rough, dry palm of your hand rubs over the head of his cock and it hurts.

Tears bead at his eyelashes and he bites your tit in an attempt not to scream as his eyes roll back. You, in turn, pull his hair with the hand still holding him to your chest.

He cums, and it's messy. It spills over his hands, his shirt, and his stomach where the hemline rides up. His hand slows as he rides out his orgasm, and your hand shifts down to stroke him in time with his own movements. He could fall asleep like this, with his cock warm but softening in your hand, belly full of your milk.

But you're letting go, both hands moving away from him. His head falls as you lower your hand and he feels your thighs tremble under him.

“Shinsuke”, you whine. And he knows that tone. He meets your eyes and sees the pleading in them. He keeps that eye contact as moves off the couch, sinking to his knees and wiping his dirty hand on his shirt. He looks up at you as his hands settle just above your knee. Your dress hem is a mess, extra fabric pooling just below your bump, and your tits are still exposed to the open air, spit and milk cooling on your nipples. His hands run up and down your thighs a few times before his thumb brushes at the fabric.

He licks his lips, hands sliding under your dress. “Is this what ya need, sweetheart?”

You simply nod. Another day, he'd make you use your words, make you beg. But – “I've been neglecting ya, haven't I, honey?”

You try to deny it, but his thumb is brushing your absolutely soaked panties, right down the seam of your lips. He pulls the garment away by the waistband.

He holds them up to admire them for a minute, pleased to find they're a pretty pastel color to match your dress. Your slick catches the light and a string of gossamer stretches from the fabric to his thumb as he pulls it away. They're so wet. He can only imagine how your pussy must've been aching for him.

He pulls you towards the edge of the couch by your hips, and once you're settled, he moves your dress up the last few inches needed. He kneels further, legs folded and sits between your spread legs. A thumb on either side spreads your folds every so slightly, and another drop of slick pours out, sure to leave a puddle on the couch

“Stop teasing.” You pout.

Shinsuke kisses your knee and obeys, sliding two fingers inside you, knowing you can take it.

“You're right. What kinda husband doesn't take care of his pregnant wife?” His fingers pump inside of you slowly, but he's sure to massage your walls with each stroke, so you don't complain. A third finger slides in, but it's not long before he's pulling them all out. You whine, as expected, until his tongue is licking up every drop you've spilt so far. Once that's been swallowed, his tongue slides in further, suckling at your hole.

“My pretty little wife.” He tuts, breath heating your core “Walking around with her tits full and cunny empty”.

You shiver. You always do when he talks like this.

Three fingers slide back into you as his lips circle your clit. He sucks your clit like he did your nipples, as if he's expecting something to spill from it, like he can get a mouthful.

Your hands work into his hair, and you pull him closer to your core as your hips jerk. His free hand grabs your hips, encouraging you to continue your movements. You ride his fingers and thumb as best as you can as he sighs like he could die happy between your legs.

He can tell from the way you squeeze around his fingers that you're close, and it's sooner than usual. Maybe it's the hormones, maybe you've been depriving yourself in his absence, or maybe you enjoyed him taking your milk as much as he did. The reason doesn't matter right now, he's just focused on pushing you over the edge you're so clearly at.

His fingertips press into the spongy spot inside of you as he sucks your clit, and it's not long before you're coming around his fingers. He works you through it untiof l you're scooting away with an overstimulated whine.

Shinsuke rises up so he's on his knees. He's a few inches shorter as you sink into the couch, so he leans forward, looking up to face you even as your eyes close.

He places a hand on the side of your face, thumb brushing across your cheek. “Carry ya to bed?”

You hesitate, but ultimately nod. Shinsuke pulls you to stand as he gets on his own feet, then large hands grip your thighs, urging you to hop up. Your center of gravity is changing, and Shinsuke has to kneel a little for you to wrap your legs around him. Your belly presses against his and he notices the change in your weight, a welcome heaviness in his arms. He privately wonders if he'll be able to keep carrying you as your pregnancy progresses. He makes it a goal to lift weights more, then focuses on anything other than the fact that your breasts are still bare against him and you're naked under that thin cotton dress.

Not ready to let you go, he sits down with you in his lap rather than laying you on the bed, then he shuffles up against the headboard. He adjusts your dress to give you some form of modesty, then wraps a blanket around your back

He's missed having you in his lap like this, your warmth and weight grounding him. The first trimester left you sore, unable to sit anywhere but the mattress, surrounded by pillows. But lately, you've been self-conscious about your body, he knows. He's seen you blink away tears when you're on your third outfit because nothing fits the way you want. He's surprised you let him carry you, expecting you to protest about how heavy you are.

He's content to sit like this until you both fall asleep, but he can feel your breath stutter as his hand strokes up and down your back. Stuttering breaths turn to sniffles and he feels wetness where your face is buried in the crook of his neck.

“Honey? Does it hurt somewhere?” His hands drop to your lower back, instinctively massaging the area you've complained about lately. His worry and confusion double as you shake your head and cry harder.

“I thought”, you hiccup. “I thought maybe you weren't attracted to me anymore”. The admission seems to break something within you, and you can't stop sobbing into his already soaked shirt.

Shinsuke doesn't shush you, doesn't even placate you yet. He gently pulls you from your hiding spot and makes you face him even as your tears blur his face. He brushes your hair back and wipes your tears, kissing your cheek, your forehead, wherever his hands don't cover.

When you calm down enough to breathe without gasping, he gives you a soft peck on the mouth and pulls away just enough for you to meet his eyes. You fight to look away but his hold is firm.

“How could ya ever think that?”

You take a deep breath, like you have to steel yourself for the conversation ahead. “You barely touch me anymore. I can't even remember the last time we had sex. I thought maybe you were just tired, or stressed about the baby or something but. I can hear you, you know. In the mornings… So I know your sex drive’s not the problem.”

Shinsuke's face is on fire. “I- I'm so sorry. I didn't realize-”

You misinterpret what he's apologizing for. “No, it's okay. I know I'm not exactly in the same shape you married.”

“You're beautiful. I love ya more every day.” He sounds panicked, even to his own ears, but he needs you to understand this.

You scoff. “Yeah, okay.”

“No, sweetheart, I mean it.” His hands slide to your hips, pinkies resting over the swell of your ass. “Pregnancy looks so good on ya.” Despite his efforts to have self-control, his eyes fall to your chest. “Ya carry it really well.”

“Oh”, you breathe. His voice and the look in his eyes surprises you, but it's starting to make sense. His hands move to the sides of your stomach even as his eyes stay glued to your cleavage. “Oh. You really-” you giggle, in relief and stupor.

Shinsuke laughs a little with you, even as his embarrassment grows into a tangible thing. “I'll love yer body when you start penguin waddling and I'll love yer body if ya lose every bit of pregnancy weight. Don't ever doubt that.”

You bite your lip to suppress your laughter. Still a little giddy, you ask “Why didn't you say anything?”

“I shouldn't react like this to ya carrying our child.” He says it like it's obvious.

You snort at his petulant tone, then kiss him. “I forget how stubborn you can be.” He pouts, so you kiss him again.

“I didn't wanna make ya uncomfortable either.” He says, defensively.

Your eyes soften, and you kiss him once more, deeper this time. You pull away and shift out of his lap, settling into bed properly. He follows your lead, lying next to you, throwing a blanket over you both.

“Hold on. So were you actually getting off thinking about me all those times?”

He wants very little more than to forget that day, but if it'll ease your worries, he'll confess. “Remember a couple months ago I tweaked my ankle?” You nod. “Tripped stepping out of the tractor because I was thinking about your ass”

“You're lying.” You know he'd never, but it's hard to believe.

Shinsuke sighs heavily, as a part of his soul exits with the breath. “I had to... take care of myself in one of the trailers out there.”

“Oh my god.” he can hear the laughter taking over your voice. “Oh my god”.

If he buries his face in your breast, it's just to hide his embarrassment.

You play with his hair as your giggles die down. “Does this mean you have a breeding kink?”

“Go to sleep, please.”

“We have to talk about this eventually, you can't deny me this. You used my breast milk to get your dick wet.”

The one thing about owning a hybrid…the ruts. He was *aching*, cock throbbing within its confines. You took off your coat and shoes at the door. Setting your purse down on the coffee table before walking over to him. Your poor boy. He needed you, and you knew exactly what he needed. “Hey, Shinsuke. Have you been a good boy today?”

Your voice was soft and smooth, a set of fingers treading through his hair in a slow motion. Nails tenderly scratching at his scalp. Something he came to love. Your touch comforted the amorous fox. He leaned into your palm as if it would disappear. Your free hand came down and slowly caressed his cheek. Feeling how warm, no…hot he was. He was burning up, whimpering soft pleas into your shirt. He needed to be buried in something. In *you*.

“My my, darling you’re burning up. What do you need, hm?” Your voice made his ears twitch. That sultry tone that made him let out a small groan. Squeezing his eyes shut, imagining your cunt squeezing his cock. Precum leaked through the fabric of his pants. “Use your words.” Your voice was a little firmer this time around. Wanting to hear him tell you what he wanted.

“You…I need you please.” His voice was soft and shaky. His hands are clutching at your sides. Nails slowly become claws, digging into your skin. “It hurts…” he whimpered out and that broke you. Leading him up to the bedroom. You had to take care of your poor fox. You couldn’t leave him in such a predicament. You guided him down onto the bed. Straddling his hips, leaning down to press your lips against his. Capturing his lips in a soft kiss. It only made him grasp for you with need.

Soft pleas being mumbled and whined for you to do something. He needed friction, anything to take the pressure off his cock. Your hips rocked against his, soft gasps filling the air. He gripped your hips as his back arched off the bed slightly. Hips bucking up into yours. It wasn’t enough, he needed more, *wanted* more. His hands started messily fumbling with your clothes, tugging at the fabric to let you know he wanted it removed. You granted it to him. His wish is your command after all. Removing your clothes, never taking your eyes off his. You worked on his next. Slowly removing pieces of clothing from his body. You got down to his underwear, precum had stained the front of the dark grey boxers. Twitching greedily.

You coo’d softly and hooked your fingers in the waistband, pulling them down until his cock bounced out, hitting his stomach. He whined, the sound rang through your ears. You wrapped a hand around his throbbing base. Pumping his shaft in a fluid motion, thumb swiping over the leaky tip. You slowly sink to your knees, lips wrapping around the weeping head slowly. A shaky moan fell from his lips as the feeling of your soft, feathery ones made their way around his dick. You took him further, sinking down and taking him inch by inch until he hit the back of your throat. A moan of delight left your lips. The sound vibrated against his cock, making him keen.

Hips bucking, forcing himself further down the tight, wet canal. The force caused you to gag and pull back slightly before taking him down once more. It became a repetitive motion. Up and down, up and down. The sound of his moans, mixed with the slick mixture of spit and his fluids filled the air. Kita’s fists clenched at the sheets, balling them within his palm. Something to ground him, to keep him from floating away as he experienced the feeling of your mouth encasing him. Trapping him in a blissful experience. Slow and messy, slurping and sucking sounds bounced off the walls. He twitched once, twice– he was close. So close to filling your throat with cum, but you just wouldn’t give him that sweet release. Not yet, you climbed back on top of him and encased his body under yours. Hands beside his head, staring him in the eyes until yours trailed down, leaning down to capture his pale skin between your teeth. Nipping gently at the skin. Immediately finding that pulse point that sent pleasure shooting straight for his brain.

Your hips rocked back and forth, your juices mixing with the spit and precum covering his shaft. Skin slicking together with delicious friction. You let out a soft moan as his tip caught the tip of your clit. A small hiss leaving them when it happens for a second time. “Tell me what you need, baby. I’ll give it to you, anything you want.” You purred in his pointed ear. Tempting and alluring. Like a siren calling out to him. It made his pelvis stutter against yours, desperately. “Inside–I want to be inside.” It was a soft growl that left his lips, that left no more room for discussion. Letting you know just how much he needed you. You grasp his cock in your hand, lining him up with your entrance as you sit down. Both well lubricated, it was an easy slide down. Seating yourself on his cock, adjusting to the size as he took up the space in your walls.

A broken moan left his lips, finally feeling your walls clamp down around his cock was like *Heaven* to him. Shinsuke’s hands shot from the sheets to your hips, grasping them tightly. Trying his best to keep himself from rutting inside you like a complete animal. The way you fluttered around him was too much. Gummy walls sucking him in as you slowly started a steady bounce on top of him, palms moving to rest on his chest as you stood on the balls of your feet. Your cunt opened a little wider for him with the new position, allowing him to slide in deeper causing a sharp moan to fall from your lips. He was so deep. Leaking tip protruding your cervix and making itself at home as if it lived there. “Y-y/n!” he cried out, thighs already quivering from trying to hold his composure. Your pace quickened as your hips slammed against his over and over. Your manicured nails digging into his pecs, your eyes rolling back in tandem as his cock brushed against that sweet spot in you and your walls fluttered around him in response, soaking him a little more.

Wet sounds filled the air once more, your moans mixing together in a symphony. You were taking everything he had to give you. Tight cunt milking him for all that he’s worth. It didn’t take long for you to feel him twitch inside you, signaling the impending release. His moans turned to whimpers and pleas the closer he got, breaths turning into small huffs, hands tightening that hold on your waist. Holding you so tight that it would possibly leave the indents of his fingers pressed into your skin. “You’re going so good for me, Shin. Fuck– filling me up, taking everything I give you, and using your manners.” You smiled sweetly at your fox below you, hips still rocking against his as you hooked two fingers in his mouth, pressing down on his tongue. His hips stuttered, he almost busted right then and there. No no, he couldn’t not yet– he didn’t even ask permission yet. A sharp whine fell from his lips until they wrapped around your digits, sucking on them as you bounced prettily on top of him. God, it was a sight to see. You looked like a goddess above him.

It wasn’t long before you felt your own climax near, thighs starting to burn with each movement. That’s when you spoke once more. In a voice that set off alarms in Kita’s head. “C’mon baby, tell me what you want. Let me hear it.” your voice rang. ‘Breed. Breed. Breed.” is all it kept repeating. Repeating the urge to fill up the tight, gushing hole nice and deep until it stuck. “Fuckfuckfuck!” he lost control, couldn’t hold back anymore. He grasped your hips, pulling out until the tip remained the only thing nestled in your warm confines. His eyes became predatory, looking at you as if you were prey in that very moment. Heels of his feet pressed into the mattress, readying himself. “Talk to m-” you got cut off with the sound of your own scream filling your ears as he slammed you back down on his cock. His hips thrusted up half way to meet yours. Skin smacking together, bodies sweating. “You, you, you! I-I want you. Wanna… wanna fill you up. Mine! You’re mine!” his canines became pointed fangs poking from the corner of his mouth, digging into his bottom lip.

The words made you short circuit, lost in a daze that you didn’t feel as his cock started growing harder and harder. Becoming more sensitive, more precum leaking from his slit. Coating the insides of your gooey walls. You, on the other hand, left a white sticky ring around his cock from your bouncing. Both of your thighs were quivering, but it didn’t stop him. Nothing could, as he runs into you quick and rough. Your tits bounced in his face, whimpers and moans leaving your throat as he brought y'all to your highs. Breathing quick and uneven, hands greedily grabbing at one another until he pulled you flush against his chest. Hands tangled in your hair, growling and biting into your shoulder, his thrusts got slower. Not stopping but they got harder, rougher with each one. Impaling you on the thick base. You arched into him, cunt greedily sucking in his cock.

One, two–three more thrusts was all it took. One final *deep* thrust onto your quivering hole was all it took for him to fill you up. His bulbous head swelling up in the opening of your cervix, planting his knot there. A long groan left his lips at the suffocating squeeze. “So tight–fuck…” he gasped. When you came down from your high, you tried to move but immediately stopped when you felt a pressure filled tug in your abdomen. He was still hard and stuck deep inside you. He looked at you apologetically, holding your hips steady so you wouldn’t hurt yourself. “Sorry, I lost control.” His soft voice came back. A little hoarse from what transpired moments before.

“It’s okay, Shinsuke. You did so well for me. So good, my sweet boy.” the praise shot straight to his dick, causing it to twitch within its confines. You giggled at the feeling and brushed some of the hair off his sweaty forehead, and pressed a kiss to his head. It was gonna be a long night.

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