#i’m nine months pregnant | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pucksandpower · 6 days

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Crazy Cravings

Max Verstappen x wife!Reader

Summary: pregnancy cravings can make you (and your husband) do crazy things … neither of you particularly minds

Warnings: 18+ content and pregnancy

You sit in the Red Bull Racing garage, feeling the warm Spanish sun on your face through the open door. The roar of engines and whirring of power tools surrounds you as the mechanics prepare for the race.

Your eyes are drawn to the iconic blue and silver cans scattered around the garage. Those tantalizing cans of Red Bull that everyone else seems to be drinking so casually.

Everyone except you and Max, that is.

You rub your rounded belly, feeling your precious cargo kick and squirm inside you. At six months pregnant, your cravings have been … intense, to say the least. But none more powerful than your longing for the crisp, fizzy taste of Red Bull.

The caffeine is off limits, of course. You would never dream of jeopardizing your baby’s health. But oh, how you crave that sweet, energizing flavor that used to be such a routine part of your life.

Max emerges from the back room, his bright grey eyes instantly finding you. He strides over, that effortless confidence and raw athleticism making your heart flutter, even after all these years. His gaze drifts to the Red Bull can in a mechanic’s hand and a grimace crosses his face.

“Liefje, are you alright?” He murmurs, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “I know how much those are torturing you lately.”

You force a smile, not wanting him to worry. “I’m fine, Maxie. Just … ignoring the siren call of carbonated temptation.”

His thumb strokes your cheek as he studies you, clearly not convinced. Max has been so incredibly supportive during this pregnancy, abstaining from Red Bull himself in solidarity. Cutting out his biggest vice, just so you don’t have to be tormented by the sight and scent of it everywhere.

“We should get you out of here,” he says, looping an arm around your waist to help leverage your bulk out of the chair. “The smells can’t be helping those crazy cravings.”

You open your mouth to protest, not wanting to pull him away from his work, but a fresh wave of dizzying desire hits you as a mechanic cracks open another can. The fizzing hiss and unmistakable scent make your mouth water uncontrollably.

“Max ...” you whisper, feeling your throat tighten with barely restrained craving and hormonal tears prickling your eyes.

He follows your yearning gaze to the Red Bull can and understanding dawns. “Oh, liefje ...” Scooping you into his arms, he strides from the garage, shooting an apologetic look at his crew.

Once outside in the fresh air, you bury your face against Max’s shoulder, inhaling his familiar, comforting cologne as he carries you to the motorhome. He eases you onto the couch, brushing kisses along your forehead and temple.

“I’m so sorry, schatje,” he murmurs, anguish lining his handsome features. “I hate seeing you suffer like this. If there was any way I could make the cravings stop ...”

You catch his hand, lacing your fingers through his calloused ones. “Max, you know I would never actually ask you to give up Red Bull, right?”

He shakes his head fiercely. “Not being able to have it for nine months is nothing compared to your sacrifice, carrying our baby. I don’t deserve you.”

Pulling him down beside you, you cup the chiseled line of his jaw, making him meet your gaze. “I happen to think you deserve the very best, Mr. Verstappen. And right now, the very best for both of us would be ...” Your voice cracks with fresh longing. “A damn Red Bull.”

Max’s eyes blaze with sudden determination, that iron willpower that has made him a champion coming to life. “Then that’s what I’ll get you. If those tossers at Red Bull Company won’t make a safe, caffeine-free version for pregnant women, I’ll personally make them regret it.”

You laugh shakily. “Max, you can’t just bully a corporation into creating a new product line for one person’s weird craving!”

“You’re not just one person,” he growls, tangling his fingers in your hair and bringing his forehead to rest against yours. “You’re my everything. And our baby deserves for its mother to be happy and have her cravings satisfied.”

Pressing a fierce kiss to your lips, he adds, “I’m calling them right now. And then straight to the CEO, if I have to. I’ll get you that Red Bull if it’s the last thing I do.”

True to his word, the indomitable Max Verstappen spends the next several days working every possible connection and calling in every favor. You catch bits of conversations, his clipped tones making it clear just how serious he is about this bizarre quest.

“No, I don’t care if it’s not ‘cost-effective’. This is for my very pregnant wife ...”

“She’s risking her health to grow an entire person! The least your company can do is make a freaking caffeine-free energy drink ...”

The crew quickly learns not to open any Red Bull around you, lest they face the wrath of an overprotective Max. Which is slightly embarrassing … but also incredibly sweet.

Your hormones most definitely approve.

Finally, there’s a break in the stalemate. Helmut Marko himself shows up at the motor home, those bushy salt-and-pepper eyebrows furrowed.

“Max, this is ridiculous. They will not reconfigure an entire product line just because Y/N is having a little … craving.”

You brace yourself for the explosion, but Max just levels Helmut with that intense stare. “If you could experience these cravings yourself, you would be singing a different tune. Y/N is sacrificing everything to have our baby. The least Red Bull can do is give her a safe option to have the flavor she misses so much.”

Helmut’s expression softens slightly at the obvious devotion in Max’s voice. “You know that corporate will never go for it. Not for just one person ...”

“Then make it for all the other pregnant women dealing with the same issues,” Max returns, unruffled. “Or is a company that plasters ‘Gives You Wings’ on every can really too cowardly to follow through on empowering people?”

You suck in a shocked breath at his daring play. But the flicker of anger and resigned capitulation in Helmut’s eyes shows that it worked.

“Fine, you little shit,” the older man growls. “I’ll talk to product development. But I’m not making any promises!”

Except somehow … Max’s sheer bullheaded tenacity eventually batters through all the corporate resistance and red tape. Three weeks later, an unmistakable bright blue can appears on the counter, the iconic Red Bull logo stamped across it.

“What’s this?” You ask in confusion.

Max slides an arm around your waist, beaming proudly. “Open it and see.”

You crack the seal, sniffing cautiously … and almost melt at the nostalgic, beloved scent of Red Bull. But just as you start to panic about caffeine, you notice the slightly different flavor.

“Max, is this ...”

He nods, grinning. “Zero caffeine but all the taste you’ve been craving. No more tears over those damn energy drink cans, okay?”

Throwing your arms around him, you yank his head down to capture his mouth in a grateful kiss. “Have I mentioned lately how incredible you are?”

“Once or twice,” he jokes, then sobers, cupping your belly. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to make you and our baby happy.”

“You’re giving me everything I ever wanted and more.” You take a long pull of the perfectly flavored liquid, sighing in blissful satisfaction. “We hit the jackpot with you, Max Verstappen.”

He kisses you again, reveling in your obvious enjoyment. “The only jackpot I need is right here.”

***

Your baby bump has popped out to truly impressive proportions now at eight months along. What started as an innocent craving for Red Bull has escalated into an all-out physiological war.

Nothing seems to satisfy you for long — you’re a walking bundle of hormones and insatiable desires.

From the plush solitude of the Red Bull hospitality suite, you try not to gaze wistfully toward the Ferrari encampment. But you can’t resist fixating on the tantalizing cones of rich gelato constantly streaming from their hospitality tent.

Watching a couple of Ferrari mechanics stroll by, licking at scoops of pistachio and stracciatella, is enough to kickstart a powerful new yearning. Your mouth waters shamelessly as they pass, the creamy dessert leaving you weak in the knees. Before you can overthink it, you’re shuffling toward the entrance, one hand cradling your belly.

“Scusi,” you call out hesitantly as you peek inside. “Mi dispiace … is it possible to get some gelato?”

You half expect to be waved away — it’s well known that the Ferrari team is notoriously insular and protective of their spoils. But the cheerful greeting you receive is instantaneous and overwhelming.

“Madonna mia! Look at this beautiful piccina!”

Suddenly you’re engulfed by a whirlwind of chattering Italian voices, greeted by smiling faces from the team of elderly signoras who comprise the Ferrari hospitality staff. Weathered hands pat your belly and cheeks, clucking sympathetically at your swollen state.

“You poor bambina, absolutely enorme! Of course we’ll get you some gelato to refresh you. And biscotti too! You need to keep up your energy, si?”

You’re ushered toward a plush sofa, various grandmotherly types fussing over you like you’re the most delicate, precious thing. It’s … surprisingly wonderful. They clearly adore babies and pregnant women. You get the sense that indulging a mother-to-be is hardwired into their very beings.

A tray of gelato cups appears, the rainbow of flavors almost dazzling in their variety — chocolate, pistachio, prickly pear, lemon, stracciatella. Before you can reach for one, it’s plucked from your grasp.

“No no no! Leave it to Nonna Maria.” A stout signora with a green paisley dress and frosted silver curls shakes her head sternly. “I’ll start you with the lemon to whet your appetite. Then a nice creamy stracciatella as a proper treat for the bambino.”

The tangy flavor of the lemon gelato hits your craving exquisitely. As soon as you’ve polished off that cup, Nonna Maria presents another brimming with the creamy chocolate chip perfection of stracciatella. You moan in appreciation, unbothered by the chorus of approving noises from your doting new entourage.

Before you know it, you’ve been plied with cups of hazelnut, strawberry, and caramel flavors as well. These hospitable Italian ladies simply won’t be deterred from pampering a future mamma. As you scrape the last smears of gelato from a ramekin, a new grandmother settles on the sofa beside you.

“Now ... tell Nonna Gina what this little maschietto or bambina has been craving, eh?” She pats your belly affectionately. “We have chefs who can whip up anything your heart desires!”

Is it a pregnancy thing, this sudden wave of tears that blurs your vision? Or just being so insanely touched by the kindness and maternal care of these lovely strangers? You blink rapidly, swallowing hard.

“Honestly … gelato has been my biggest craving these past couple days. I don’t know if I can eat another bite.”

A chorus of disapproving gasps and tuts rises from the assembled grandmothers. “Bah! This pregnancy has ruined your appetite, piccina,” one crows, waving a hand dismissively. “We’ll soon get it back to rights, don’t you worry.”

For the next hour, you’re lavished with attention, fussed over and coddled like the most precious jewel. Cold drinks and chilled towels appear to keep you comfortable as the nonnas take turns sitting with you, petting your belly and swapping outrageous birth stories.

Their colorful Italian voices swell and ebb as they bicker over whose recipe for pasta al ragu is most authentic, who has the most grandchildren, and whose first-born grandson is most handsome.

It’s chaos and noise and overwhelming affection … and you’ve never felt so utterly content.

As the afternoon light slants golden through the awning, a familiar figure appears in the entrance, haloed by the fiery rays.

“Liefje? I’ve been looking everywhere ...” Max’s disbelieving gaze sweeps over the scene in front of him — you, surrounded by a veritable coven of grandmotherly Italians who seem entirely absorbed with you. “What in the world ...”

A chubby signora with a bright orange shawl wrapped around her ample form hops up, beaming widely. “Ahh! We have been absolutely spoiling your beautiful wife, of course. Did you know she had a craving for gelato? Well, no problem for us — we have taken her like one of our own bambinas!”

The others cluck and murmur in outraged agreement at his shocked expression.

“We absolutely will not let a piccina in such a state go hungry or uncomfortable! Now you sit down so we can get you a plate of some proper food too!”

Max gapes at you, utterly nonplussed as you grin back at him with unabashed glee, utterly stuffed with Italian desserts and reveling in the indulgent babying. You pat the space beside you invitingly.

“You’ve got to try Nonna Gina’s tiramisu, Maxie. It’ll knock your socks off.”

He settles beside you, slinging an arm around your shoulders and still looking rather dazed. But the instant the first warm smile and pat lands on his arm or knee, Max’s expression melts. This team of fussing Italian grandmothers has clearly adopted you both as their own.

Nonna Maria reappears, shoving a plate stacked with crispy arancini, indulgent risotto alla Milanese, and a creamy slice of tiramisu into your husband’s hands. “Eat up! You need to keep your strength up too, caring for this sweet cosa bella.” She plants bristly kisses on both your cheeks before scurrying off again.

Max watches her go, then turns to you with a bemused chuckle, squeezing you close. “Well, schatje. I have to hand it to you — at least your pregnancy cravings bring you to some … interesting places.”

You hum in agreement, perfectly content as you snuggle against his side. “Can you really think of a better place for me to nest?” You grin as another nonna appears to pat his cheek, welcoming him into the chaotic fold. “I think I may have just found my second family.”

He tilts your chin up, eyes sparkling with warmth. “Anything that makes you happy and keeps our baby healthy.”

As he kisses you tenderly, surrounded by clucking encouragement and rapturous croons of “bello, bellisimo” from your new Italian grandmothers, you know you’ve never felt so blissfully cherished.

You and Max make your way slowly back to the Red Bull motorhome, stuffed to the gills with gelato and trailed by a gaggle of besotted well-wishers calling out farewells and advice.

“I still can’t believe you managed to befriend the entirety of Ferrari hospitality,” Max laughs, helping ease you onto the couch in his driver’s room. He nudges your belly playfully. “This little one is shaping up to be quite the international charmer!”

“Says the man who single-handedly compelled Red Bull to create an entirely new product line,” you point out, patting your swollen middle contentedly. “I have a feeling this baby is going to be the most spoiled child on earth.”

Max settled beside you, gathering you close with a tender smile. “Can you blame all our people for wanting to give the world to you two?” His thumb traced your jawline reverently. “You’re carrying a little miracle, liefje.”

Your breath catches, as it so often did when he looks at you like that. Like you’re his entire universe. With so much pure adoration and love shining in those grey eyes.

“Our miracle,” you correct softly, cradling his calloused hand over your belly. “I couldn’t have done it without you. Not just supporting me … but giving me everything I could ever dream of.”

He opens his mouth like he wanted to protest, but you press on, needing him to understand how treasured he makes you feel.

“You don’t stop until I’m happy. Even when I get these raging, random cravings that probably seem crazy, you move heaven and earth to give me whatever I need. Most people would never ...”

“Neither of us is most people,” Max interrupts fiercely. He presses a searing kiss to your lips, then the swell of your abdomen. “You and our little one are my entire world. I’ll spend every day showing you how much I love you both, how grateful I am to have you in my life.”

Hormones raging, you pull his mouth back to yours, savoring the taste and feel of him surrounding you. When you finally part, you rest your forehead against his.

“In that case, you better rest up for tonight,” you tease. “I have a feeling that someone’s going to get a craving for sardines and waffles right around midnight.”

***

At nine months pregnant, you feel like a blissfully beached whale.

Your belly protrudes so massively that you can barely see your feet anymore. Simple tasks like tying your shoes or rolling over in bed have become awkward geometric obstacles. Max has to help you up from every chair or couch, his strong arms levering your frame into a vertical position.

Lingering in the paddock is no longer an option either. You’ve been gently but firmly ordered back home to Monaco to prepare for the baby’s arrival.

Thank goodness your nesting instincts are going full tilt — otherwise you might go stir crazy waiting for this little one to make their grand debut. You’ve rearranged and re-organized the nursery a dozen times, washed and rewashed all the tiny onesies and miniature accessories, and baked enough lactation cookies to feed an army of nursing mothers.

Really, there’s only one craving occupying your mind now …

The thump of shoes in the hall makes you look up eagerly. Max appears in the doorway of the sunlit nursery, loose waves of brown hair framing his face. The plain white tee stretches enticingly across his chest and shoulders, making your mouth water for an entirely different reason than food.

“Hey schatje,” he greets, eyes crinkling at the corners as he takes in your flushed cheeks. A knowing smirk tugs at one side of his mouth. “Were you just ... thinking about me?”

You shake your head adamantly, wincing as the motion makes your whole body ache in protest. “Maybe just a little. This particular craving is getting out of control.”

Crossing to you in two strides, Max cups your jaw and brings your lips crashing together in a searing kiss. His tongue sweeps demanding and possessive into your mouth, making you whimper faintly. That intoxicating masculine scent of fresh sweat, motor oil, and sandalwood surrounds you in an alluring cloud.

After all these years, just the taste and smell of your husband is enough to drench you in molten wanting. Baby or no baby, Max Verstappen is still the sexiest goddamn thing on two legs.

“Mmm, I know exactly what you need,” he rumbles against your neck, nipping a tingling path along your sensitive skin. “Luckily for you, I’ve got a free schedule all afternoon to help take care of this craving ...”

He scoops you into his arms effortlessly, cradling your heavy weight against his chest to carry you to the bedroom. You twine your arms shamelessly around his neck, luxuriating in the hard strength of his body against yours.

“Aren’t you worried about ... squashing the baby?”

“Not at all,” he deposits you carefully on the bed. Those bright grey eyes darken with blazing lust. “I’m going to take such good care of you and our little one.”

His hands and mouth seem to be everywhere at once — caressing, nibbling, and stroking every sensitive inch he can lavish adoring attention on. You keen softly when he dips his tongue into your navel, rubbing reverent circles over the tight swell of your belly.

“You’re so gorgeous like this,” Max murmurs, lips brushing the crease where your torso and bump meet. “So ripe and round and radiant with our child. My beautiful, strong girl ...”

All you can do is lie there gasping, overwhelmed in the best possible way. He strips you methodically, leaving a trail of scorching, openmouthed kisses over every newly exposed inch.

“My sexy little pregnant wife,” he husks, tongue dragging up the slick crease at the apex of your thighs. “Can’t resist this craving can you, liefje?”

His fingers plunge inside you, curling expertly as his mouth closes over your throbbing bud. You throw your head back shamelessly, mindless with pleasure as Max devours you.

So good, so unbearably good …

He ravishes you thoroughly, sending gushing waves of release crashing through your body over and over again until you’re gasping and quivering. Atoms of blissful satisfaction hum in your bloodstream as you float back into sweet oblivion.

An insistent nudge against your belly slowly rouses you. Max looms over you, hair deliciously rumpled and eyes glittering wickedly. “Did I satisfy that craving sufficiently? Or should I keep going?”

Your mouth curves in a greedy smile, hands gliding over his flexing shoulders and chest. “Again, please ...”

It had long since become a running gag around the paddock and team — before you were advised to stop flying. When you couldn’t be located, someone would joke that you must be off ravaging your utterly besotten husband yet again.

Max took the ribbing with surprising grace, grinning unrepentantly whenever his shirt collar revealed another blossom of lovebites discoloring the skin of his throat.

You really didn’t care about the teasing. You’re indulging an entirely healthy and normal craving — just a wife thoroughly appreciating her man.

“Can you believe people used to call this a punishment?” You giggle breathlessly one afternoon.

Max nips a stinging path along the soft skin of your inner thighs, tracing tantalizingly close to your heated center. He laves his tongue soothingly over the reddened marks, leering up at you from between your parted legs.

“Let them call it whatever they want. I’m just taking advantage of your hormones making you insatiable for me.”

“Mmm, well I can’t seem to resist your obscenely perfect body either,” you admit with a lazy stretch. “Maybe we really are being punished.”

One dark brow wings up eloquently as Max drags his eyes over you in a deliberately insolent perusal. Taking your leg in hand, he licks an achingly slow, filthy stripe up the crease where thigh meets hip.

You choke on a whimper, whole body jolting as he sucks a blossom of wet kisses into the satiny expanse of your inner thigh. Those bright grey eyes hold yours in wicked challenge as his clever tongue massages and swirls over your sensitized flesh.

“This certainly doesn’t seem like punishment to me,” he husks darkly. “Does it feel like punishment when I do this ...” His mouth moves higher. “Or this ...”

By the time he finishes torturing you into a quivering, needy wreck, you’re more than ready to beg.

“Please, Max!” You sob, bucking helplessly against the maddening sensations. “I need you, oh god I need you so bad ...”

He settles heavily over you, nuzzling your hair aside to trail searing kisses along your damp throat. “Then you shall have me. My needy wife can have whatever she craves ...”

It’s midway through one such shattering round of lovemaking that Max’s phone begins to ring shrilly. You try to disentangle, burning embarrassment tinting your cheeks, but he simply growls and clutches you tighter.

“Leave it!” He bites out, surging forward to recapture your mouth in a bruising clash of teeth and tongue between thrusts. “I’m busy ... satisfying … my wife ...”

After, as you lie tangled in a sweaty heap of satiation, you can’t resist asking with a wry smile, “Was that another craving I just demanded you satisfy?”

Max props himself up on one elbow, thumb stroking idly along your abdomen as his piercing gaze roams over your flushed, disheveled form.

“Whatever my wife needs,” he responds huskily. Those burning eyes promise infinite carnal delights to come as they caress your body. “I’ll always crave giving her everything she desires.”

He stretches beside you, a blissful smile curving his lips as you snuggle up against his side to exchange lazy kisses.

You’ve got a sneaking suspicion this is one craving that might outlast the pregnancy ...

2K notes · View notes

gojorgeous · 3 months

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how do the jjk men treat you when ur on ur period? suguru specifically hehe <3

✰ JJK MEN: WHEN YOU'RE ON YOUR PERIOD ✰

pairing(s): gojo, geto, nanami, choso x afab!reader content: (MDNI 18+ only), nsfw-ish/suggestive, periods, period blood, period products, pet names, lots of fluff! a/n: i hope you like anon!! you have great timing cause i’m getting my period and i also have a uti pray for me besties i need help and antibiotics. left out toji and sukuna cause…. nah LMAO. enjoy, and remember ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED!

✰ GOJO:

Lowkey loves when you’re on your period, but is just barely smart enough to never tell you that.

His favorite part is that you always want more cuddles, which means more cuddles for him.

Thinks period products are really amusing– loves playing with your hot water bottle cause it’s squishy. Finds those ones that look like stuffed animals at the store and brings home like five of them for you.

Will definitely buy you pads/tampons but not without the obligatory “what size is your pussy” text. Won’t buy them until you respond with “extra super pretty” and then sends back this emoji -> 😋.

Highkey likes period sex. Knows it can relieve your cramps and will use that as an excuse at every opportunity if you’ll let him.

Is always on some cheesy ass shit murmuring in your ear about how doing it on your period “bonds your souls”, too.

Constantly offers to get you pregnant so you can avoid your period for the next nine months… he’s only half joking.

Will actually skip work to stay home and cuddle with you if you give him even the slightest inclination that you don’t want him to go.

Watches movies with you and has gotten surprisingly good at rubbing little circles on your tummy that help with cramps.

Keeps the house stocked with candy, but, then again… it’s always stocked with candy.

“Babe. Look what I just found at the store.” You watch with furrowed brows as he sets the bags on your floor. You’re curled on the couch, a blanket tucked up around your neck. He’d made sure to roll you like a burrito before he’d left. He pulls out… a cow? It looks like a stuffed animal, but when he shakes it you hear something sloshing around inside. You raise a brow. “Ummmm–” “It’s one of those hot water bottle thingies! For your cramps!” He tosses the poor cow on the floor and digs around in the bag again. “Oh my god, they had so many. I got the cow, the dolphin–” He tosses a dolphin out of the bag, followed by a puppy, a raccoon, and a cat. “Do you want me to put one in the microwave for you?” He looks far too excited to turn down, even though you just heated up your old hot water bottle minutes ago. You smile and nod. “Yeah, baby. Thanks.”

✰ GETO:

Mans TAKES CARE of you. Like… fully.

Is really sympathetic and gentle when your cramps are killing you– brushing your hair back, rubbing circles on your tummy, letting you put his warm hands wherever it hurts.

Runs you a warm bath and climbs right in with you. Makes you lean back against him while he gives you a massage and works out all the knots in your neck and shoulders.

Buys you period products before your period starts if he remembers. If he doesn’t he’s happy to run down to the store. Doesn’t need to ask which ones you like– he already knows.

Wraps you up in the comfiest blankets and cuddles with you wherever you ask. Gives the best cuddles, too. Rubs your back in a way that has you falling asleep in seconds.

Makes sure you take your meds on time and brings you a glass of water.

Secretly loves period sex. Will never push you for it, but gets super horny at just the thought. Loves the sight of your blood on his dick. Makes him feel possessive of you in a way that’s kind of scary.

“Sugu…” you whine. Your cramps are bad. You’ve been curled in a ball all morning, even with all the meds Suguru has been giving you. “It hurts so bad.” You feel him shifting behind you and then his hands gently prying you to lie on your back. You whimper, the pain spiking again as soon you roll out of the fetal position. His face appears above you, a couple stray strands of black hair tickling your cheeks. His smile is soft, but full of sympathy as he settles over you. “I’m sorry, baby. I wish I could make it go away…” He moves down your body, settling between your thighs and resting his cheek on the plush of your thigh. You sigh when you feel his fingers skate over your tummy, rubbing little circles into the skin that somehow work wonders for the pain. You sigh with relief, a bit of the tension ebbing away. “That feels nice…” Your body relaxes a bit, finally getting a break from the incessant pain. Suguru only smiles, looking up at you through hooded eyes when he presses a kiss just below your belly button. You don’t fail to notice the way his thumb is sliding under the fabric of your panties. “I can think of something that would feel even nicer…”

✰ NANAMI:

Prepares for your period.

Has your cycle marked down on his calendar so he always knows when you’re starting.

Stops by the store a couple of days ahead of time to buy pads/tampons/meds and your favorite snacks.

Runs a bath for you every night and fills it with all of your favorite soaps and scents.

Cooks. Mans knows how to cook and does extra of it when you’re on your period. Will make you nutritious meals and urge you to drink water, but always brings you something sweet if you’re craving it.

Heats up your hot water bottle every thirty minutes without you ever having to ask.

Lays out a fresh change of clothes for you whenever you’re in the shower.

Cuddles you whenever you want, but only after he’s tended to all of your other needs (meds, food, water, etc.).

Will have sex if you want, but will never push you for it. If you just want the relief from your cramps, he’ll just use his fingers to get you off and then pull you back into his arms.

“Time for your bath, sweetheart.” You nearly grumble in protest, but how can you do such a thing when he takes such good care of you? Still, you don’t want to move. Just existing hurts, much less walking to the bathroom. Despite your resistance to saying it aloud, Nanami still seems to understand what you’re thinking. No more than a second later he’s scooping you into his arms and carrying you to the bathroom. “You know you’ll feel better after, love.” You nod weakly against his chest. “Will you get in with me?” He pauses. He’s got dinner to make and he wanted to change the sheets for you… One nuzzle of your face into his neck has him throwing all those plans out the window. “Of course, princess. I’ll get in with you.”

✰ CHOSO:

Is new to this stuff so he lowkey freaks out.

Worries that you’re actually in danger cause… there’s blood???

Chills out eventually, but is still irrationally convinced that you’re injured.

When i tell you this man is at your BECK AND CALL, I mean it. He will do every little thing you ask. Fetches water, food, snacks– whatever you need.

Mans is panicked when he can’t find the candy bar you want at the grocery store.

Happily buys period products for you but has to facetime you cause the poor baby is overwhelmed and confused by all the options.

Is kind of attached to you like glue. Thinks you’re somehow more breakable in this state will hold you in his arms permanently apart from when you need to bathe, eat, or use the bathroom.

Actually freaks when you have a bout of cramps that makes you hiss in pain. Cannot believe you have to do this every month and hates feeling so useless in taking the pain away. Eagerly learns that he can put his warm hands on your tummy and it helps.

Is actually amazed when you tell him that sex helps with the cramps. Worries about hurting you, but is completely down. Mans is definitely not afraid of a little blood lmao.

“Baby… there are so many…” You can’t help but stifle a laugh looking at your boyfriend’s stressed expression through your phone screen. He’d run down to the store to get you some more pads– you just hadn’t anticipated how overwhelming the experience would be for him. “I know, Cho. I’m sorry. Here– back up so I can see the whole aisle.” He does as you ask, flipping the camera around so you can see what he’s looking at. You have to bite your lip this time to keep the laugh in. You’ve never realized just how many options there really are. “The ones toward the bottom right, baby. With the pink box.” The camera shakes a little as he follows your directions, arm sticking out like he’s playing pin the tail on the donkey. “These?” His hand hovers over a box that is pink but not the pink you need. “Down a couple racks.” Finally, his hands close around the right box. “Thank you, baby. I didn’t think about how confusing this would be for you…” The camera flips again and you grin at the soft soft smile on his lips. “Don’t apologize. Want me to grab some candy, too?”

taglist (dm me or send an ask to be added!): @lacheri, @la-undercover-latina, @enchantedsylveon, @httpstoyosi, @bbyxxm, @6kabuki, @myriliy, @complexivelovely

please consider leaving a comment, sending an ask, or reblogging! interacting with authors is the best way to support them! thanks for reading ♡

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chiwhorei · 6 months

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I have no idea where this came from I’m all icky sicky today and needed some Nanami comfort. ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა♡

tags: a bit of smut, mostly fluff, domestic king Nanami Kento

➽──────────────❥

Nanami isn’t ever a boyfriend he literally starts acting like a husband from day zero.

Nanami finds out your favorite flowers, because he asks u like a grown ass man, and he is getting you flowers every 2 weeks on the dot as soon as the old ones are needing to be thrown away.

Nanami is making sure he’s got the kind of soap/lotion/toothpaste you like at his place for when you sleep over. Nanami loves watching you do your nightly skincare routine, sitting up in bed barely paying attention to the book in his hands because he’s just so enamored with you.

Nanami is truly addicted to the pussy. He spends hours down on you, lapping and sucking and fucking his thick tongue into you. From the jump, too. He’s eating your pussy the night of your first date. He’s getting you off more than once that night— the first one wasn’t for you, not even the second, those were just for Kento, because he is a greedy man. By the time he’s rolling a condom on to fuck you, you’ve cum more times from just his tongue than any other man has cumulatively.

Nanami’s learning your love language and showing you his own. He’s big on acts of service and quality time. He prefers a quiet night in and cooking a meal together. He likes ordering in on lazy Friday nights. He likes going grocery shopping with you. He likes the way your fingers brush his as he hands you a dish to dry. You dry, he washes. The soapy water would chip your manicure.

Nanami asks your friends to figure out what kind of engagement ring you want. He wants it to be a surprise but he also wants to ensure you get exactly what you want. He proposes on the beach, the same one you walked barefoot on after your first date. He gets down on one knee where you stopped him that night to admire the sunset and pulled him into a kiss. Kento took a mental note as to exactly where you were standing because in that moment he knew he was going to marry you.

Nanami is a wife guy, through and through. He is at his best when you’re beside him. He takes care of you, but never gets in the way of your goals. He dotes on you but knows you are his equal and his partner. He asks you for your opinions when he’s got a big decision to make at work. He is vulnerable with you, he’s patient, he’s so kind.

Nanami ensures that you are dressed to the nines, as a couple, at any work parties, friends wedding, fancy dinners. He always wears something that compliments the dress you pick out. He’s always there to zip you up, moving your hair delicately to the side and putting it back after. He insists to lean down and help you into your heals before walking out the door.

Nanami, of course, opens every door for you, he always has a hand at your back to keep you steady. He always introduces you as his wife with so much pride. And he’s always going to drape his suit jacket over your shoulders before walking outside, even if it’s not really that cold.

Nanami is fucking you deep and raw the second you mention you think it’s a good time to start trying for a baby. He’s got you almost upside down when he’s cumming in you, to make sure you’re pregnant asap. He knocks you up on the first try and is fucking you good throughout your entire pregnancy. One because you swollen and round with his baby makes him feral and two because regular sex and frequent orgasms are important for a healthy pregnancy.

Nanami is committed to his work, but is never home a minute late. Especially after the birth of your first child. As soon as he walks through the door, you’re clocking out and taking a nice luxurious bubble bath while Kento gets some 1:1 time with your infant. He knows how exhausting it is being a new parent, especially when he went back to the 9-5 a few months after your daughter was born and you’re at home with the baby all day. So he leaves work and clocks in for the night shift, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder if you try to get up when the baby’s fussing, telling you that he’s got it. It’s his turn. You’ll cook dinner together while Kento has the baby strapped to his chest. Because the golden rule in Kento’s head is ensuring equitable partnership, making sure that the brunt of childcare doesn’t default to you because of some tired gender-norms, and of course spoiling you and his baby girl every second he can, for the rest of his life. ૮꒰˶ฅ́˘ฅ̀˶꒱ა

#nanami kento smut #nanami smut #nanami fluff #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader smut #nanami kento x reader smut #babble.dollie

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ultimate-chickennougat · 1 month

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| Shut up for me, love, |

Toji Fushiguro x Wife!Reader

Toji finds out you're pregnant! (with Megumi)

Word Count: 1.5k

CW: SFW, domestic fluff, pregnancy, Toji has a job, slightly suggestive dialogue

A/n: I have an idea for a Part 2 (this was so fun)... also opening to take requests if you have any.

It was like floating on cloud nine, where everything was beautiful and happy. You couldn’t help but curl up into a ball on your bed, digging your fists into the covers while clutching the test. Why? Because it came up with two lines.

You had always wanted kids, that was something your husband, Toji, knew very well. However, there was still something daunting, that translated into a sinking feeling in your gut. Something that you had wanted for so long, something bigger than yourself, was going to happen, and the two of you would face it together.

There were so many things to look forward to while pregnant. Wearing cute dresses that emphasized your bump just right, a sign to yourself and the world of your lovely marriage and relationship with your husband. Family photos, pregnancy milestones, and finally, the birth that would happen in a bit under nine months. You were so happy to start your family with Toji, and the little bundle of joy that was growing inside of you.

That feeling of euphoria didn’t leave after laying there for five minutes. In fact, it probably never would. It was another version of the feeling you got when you first met Toji, and the one from when you married him, and you still couldn’t believe that it had happened. But, Toji would be home soon.

Knowing your husband, still as frustrated with your finances as ever, the one thing you could decide was that balloons and cake would not be appreciated on this occasion. Though he knew of your desires, he never explicitly said he wanted a baby either. That was what scared you the most.

Toji always humered you, when you visited little clothing boutiques and stores, and something in the maternity section caught your eye. Or, when you couldn’t help but offer to take care of your friend’s baby whenever you got the chance, and had the biggest smile he had ever seen on your face, when you held her.

What you didn’t see, however, was that while you perused the racks of baby clothing, his eyes drifted over to the green dinosaur onesie, with dark green spikes covering the head and going over the back and the tail. He chuckled under his breath, starting to get ideas himself seeing how invested you were.

When you mentioned getting pregnant, Toji said he wasn’t opposed, though the look on his face showed more that he was uninterested. While you trusted your husband, he was wonderful to you, that sinking feeling didn’t go away either. Part of the reason you were so enthusiastic, after all, was because you’d be raising your child with Toji, and that idea was the embodiment of perfection in your mind. Without him in all the way, would it really be the same?

Toji wasn’t a big fan of fuss anyway, his proposal and your wedding had been small and pretty simple, and you were fine with that. In all honesty it was nice, to not have to worry about every little thing being perfect anyway. For news like this, thinking about decorations would only be a distraction from figuring out what to say.

“Toji, honey, I’m pregnant,” you repeated to yourself in the mirror, holding the test to give it to him, trying to present it like a gift of some sort. “I have some news for you, Toji,” another option, “It’s great news, I’m really excited,” you tried to make the perfect smile, to show him just how happy you were. But you just threw yourself back on the bed, covering the flush on your cheeks with your hand.

Everything sounded fake when you tried it. Knowing Toji, if you said any of those things, he might think there was something wrong instead of the truth. And of course, you couldn’t knock that stupid grin off your face for more than a few seconds, butterflies fluttering around your stomach so much that you had to ground yourself.

Your face heated up at the mere thought of your husband walking through the door, though he would be tired and bothered as per usual. How would he react? Would he be as happy as you are, or… and the sinking feeling was growing again. You lifted your knees, planting your feet flat on the bed so the hem of your dress laid right above your ankles, as you sat in thought, preparing yourself for the inevitable.

In a way you had given up, on facing Toji head on. Instead you decided to lie in wait, and figure something out on a whim if it didn’t come to you before he got home. You tucked the test under the blanket next to your legs, trying to relax as best as you could.

The click of the front door was a familiar sound, something that usually excited you. However on this particular day, it was a little bit too exciting, so much so that you couldn’t urge yourself to get up and move your hands from their comfortable spot covering your face.

Toji made his way through the kitchen and the living room, missing the usual sound of you, his wife, running around doing whatever it was that you were doing when he came home every day. The occasional joking “Honey, I’m home,” something he had grown to secretly enjoy, couldn’t be said despite his relatively good mood - for his ‘honey’ wasn’t there.

Heading into your shared bedroom, where he typically pulled off his stuffy work clothes and changed into something more comfortable, was where he found you, curled up and about as out-of-it as ever.

Toji laid down behind you on the bed, leaning over onto his side to see you. He pulled one of your hands off your face, smirking as you opened your eyes and met his gaze. “Hey, stupid,” he laughed as you pulled your hand back, smacking his away. “Why you coverin’ that pretty face, huh?” he asked, settling down with his hand resting under his neck. “What happened to ‘wife’, or something,” you tried to pout. “I called you pretty,” he reasoned, “and I can see that stupid smile on your face, somethin’ happen to ya?”

Toji reached his hand over, with more force this time, pulling both your hands off your face. The flushed red of your cheeks and cute little protests made him smile. “You gonna tell me what’s got you so flustered, wife?” he kept your hands lightly pinned beneath his. “Couldn’t help yourself from thinkin’ about me while I was at work… really is stupid to be embarrassed,” you shook your head as best as you could.

“Toji…” you murmured out, trying not to look him in the eyes. You pulled your right hand away from him, reaching into the covers to where you shoved the test. “I’m just… really happy, okay?” you choked out meekly, biting your lip you threw the test back at him.

Catching it in his hands, he stared at the two lines. “You don’t say, huh?” he breathed heavily, as you eyed his expression with worry. “I just found out…” you blushed as he looked back at you, listening intently. “And… I know we didn’t talk that much about it,” you whispered, feeling his hand tighten it’s grip around yours. “But I really want to be a mother, Toji,” you sighed, still anticipating his reply.

“Didn’t realize we weren’t on the same page about that,” he turned away, with a smile on his face. “I don’t want to make you unhappy -” he cut you off with a kiss, leaning down as your heart raced even faster. “How ‘bout you shut up for me, love,” your face contorted into a look of surprise. “Am I that bad of a husband? I thought you knew I was on board,” he chuckled. “But you said you didn’t really care,” you whined, as he moved his hand to hold yours more comfortably. “Yeah, that was my way of sayin’ it,” you rolled your eyes at him. “Besides, who do you think did this to ya, I’m not that much of an idiot,” he held up the test again, the surrealness of it all was sinking in.

“So, do you know the gender yet?” he asked, as you squinted. “Toji, I just found out a few minutes ago,” you replied. “Yeah, but I figured you had some kind of mother’s intuition on that stuff,” he yawned, the tiredness from work starting to hit him. “Well, what do you think?”

“A girl,” he stated quickly, as you thought about it. “Your final guess?” you asked, to which he agreed. “Well knowing your losing streak, it must be a boy then,” you laughed as he frowned, “I should put that on paper… How’s that for mother’s intuition?” You looked back at Toji, who was fully laid down with his eyes closed. “Pregnant women should get a lot of sleep, I’m just setting an example,” he yawned again, pulling your waist to turn you next to him. You snuggled in closer, the sinking feeling was gone though the butterflies were only getting worse by the minute. “Fine, but only for a little while. I have to make dinner,” Toji hummed in response. “G’night, future mama.”

(Part 2)

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x reader #toji fushiguro #toji zenin #jjk toji #toji fushiguro x reader #toji zenin x reader #toji x reader #toji x you #toji fluff #toji fushiguro x you #jujutsu kaisen toji #fushiguro toji #fushiguro toji x reader

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seakicker · 1 year

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mother's day hc that you tell the genshin boys you're pregnant on mother's day so they decide to celebrate by getting you double pregnant?

YES MA’AM i had a randomizer pick four names for me out of all the guys i write for… kinda laughing at 3/4 of them being all the Serious, Stoic ones lol

fem reader, pregnancy, breeding, overstimulation (alhaitham) and knotting (gorou) below!

alhaitham

You can never be too sure, he says— a good, valid experiment hinges upon proper reliability. Do you know how many undergraduate experimental reports he’s dismissed on account of their supposed “results” being the chance of mere coincidence or random chance? It never hurts to eliminate the possibility of a false positive and to ensure that your positive pregnancy test result is a true positive by breeding you all over again and having you take another pregnancy test in five weeks or so.

When you tell him you’re pregnant, he responds with a quiet nod before almost analyzing all of the behavior you’ve displayed over the last few weeks. Yes, the news makes perfect sense— last week, Alhaitham overheard you wondering aloud if your period was late or if you had just tracked it wrong, and he’d have to be a fool to not know what a missed period is the universal signifier of. The news comes at a perfect time, so he couldn’t be happier— though your husband certainly has a… uniquely stoic way of expressing happiness.

That night, he replicates every last aspect of the night he imagines he got you pregnant some five weeks ago (it’s a simple calculation, really) down to your spot on the bed and the clothes he was wearing just to make sure that a false positive is out of the question. Perhaps he’ll have to come inside if you twice tonight just to really seal the deal that you’re pregnant— once is chance, twice is a coincidence, and thrice is a true pattern. You’d like to try and convince him that surely there’s no need for all of this, that pregnancy tests rarely, rarely fail or show an incorrect result, but there’s no pushing back against your husband’s logical calculations or sense of reason— not that you’re much in the condition to even try to speak with him anyways.

When your husband has you spread open wide with your knees pressed up against either side of your chest, a light conversation is absolutely out of the picture. You’d consider it a feat to muster up anything other than splintered whines of your husband’s name and delicate pleas for him to slow down— though, truthfully, it’d be an even bigger feat if you managed to successfully convince Alhaitham of doing the latter. He hasn’t stalled or slowed his pace for even a fraction of a second because he, of course, is trying to replicate the night he very likely knocked you up exactly, and he just so happened to be absolutely railing you that night.

“You can certainly take more than this.” That’s all he offers when you beg him to slow down again. “I’ve discovered, met, and exceeded every last one of your limits myself, and this pace, this position, and this fervor hardly come close to any of those. I’m simply validating your claim before I take to preparing the spare room for our child.”

You gasp and let your head fall back against the pillow, defeated and overwhelmed in equal tandem by your husband’s delightful Mother’s Day plans.

Alhaitham only chuckles once, a satisfied smirk so faint on his lips that you almost don’t catch it at all. “You’ll be alright. We’ll have nine entire months to be gentle.”

zhongli

Zhongli has lived a normal human lifetime nearly ninety times over— yet, fascinatingly, he always insists he’s come nowhere close in experiencing everything life, nature, humanity, and civilization have to offer, an assertion you’ve always found downright impossible to fathom. How does somebody not get bored after six thousand years of life? You know people who are bored after just four years of working in the same career before they jump ship and try to find something, anything completely different.

He offers the exact same explanation every single time you once again ask how he still finds things to do, places to go, and activities to enjoy after being alive for so long— he always, always smiles softly and explains that he never gets bored with life because you’re in it, and you show him new things, new foods, and new ways to love and enjoy the world that he never even imagined prior to meeting you.

You’ll admit that you’ve found his reasoning somewhat hard to believe on a few separate occasions— like he’s seriously been alive for over six thousand years, yet he’s never tried red bean ice cream from Inazuma before? It’s not exactly a rare or expensive good. However, there are other times when you think you understand what he means, and his logic has never been more evident than today because you told your darling husband that you’re pregnant this morning.

“I’ve never been a father before,” Zhongli hums as he presses a wide circle of kisses all around the cusp of your tummy. “I’ve tutored and taught many, but I’ve never raised a child as my own from their very birth.”

“Does it make you nervous?” You grip his left hand a little tighter as his right comes to rub a soothing circle over the apex of your soft belly.

He pauses for a moment. “I see no reason to be afraid of new experiences, let alone ones I have you to guide me through. I’ve found that sampling life’s uncertainties and navigating its surprises provide far more enrichment than routine.”

You laugh. “I don’t think I can do much ‘guiding’ here, my love— I’ve never been a mother before either. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Zhongli melts. How do you always know just how to tickle his heart with the most innocuous of statements?

“And that is exactly why I’m not nervous— because we’ll have each other to both learn from and learn alongside. I’ve spent the vast majority of my life being the teacher and not the student, so opportunities to learn with you excite me.”

All you can do is hide your face with your free hand, your cheeks warm and your grin obvious. Your husband chuckles and kisses a line down the bottom half of your tummy, down your hips, and all the way down, down, down until he runs into the fabric of your panties.

“I’ve read that intimacy during pregnancy has an array of positive effects for a mother,” Zhongli notes, gently sliding a hand down to tug your panties to the side. “We’ll have to try every last tip and wives’ tale, won’t we, my love?”

diluc

Completely opposite to that of Zhongli, Diluc’s perspective on celebratory sex on Mother’s Day is that it’s about as tired, cliche, and lazy as celebratory sex on a birthday, New Year’s Eve, or Valentine’s Day. Really, any other holiday where people feel the need to either supplement their actual present with sex because they fear what they really bought their spouse just isn’t good enough on its own or because they forgot to get them a present entirely.

Or so he says.

He’s always been of the opinion that love and intimacy expressed on a random day of the year without any special meaning bears more weight than celebratory holiday sex— why should sex be included as part of the celebratory experience when a married couple is expected to regularly display intimacy towards one another? You’ve teased him about this cynical, grumpy take plenty of times, but you’ve almost come to agree with him regardless— it’s hard to even have the energy for sex at the end of your birthday or on the evening of Valentine’s Day when you’re just so exhausted by everything Diluc planned for you during the day. Perhaps it’s entirely because he doesn’t take special occasions lightly that he sees no need to end the day on a cliche.

Well, there’s a first for everything.

“I thought you don’t do celebratory sex,” you whimper with a sharp inhale. You had meant for the statement to sound more teasing and alluring, but it’s damn near impossible to keep your composure when your husband’s spent the past hour and a half between your legs.

Diluc, for the first time in ninety minutes, actually pulls away from your slick, saliva-coated pubic mound to stare up at you over your tummy. How amusing— this is the smallest he’ll see your tummy for the next nine months, and something tells him he’s not going to miss it whatsoever.

“We’ve never celebrated Mother’s Day before simply because you were never a mother for any of them. Today is different— and of course this news deserves celebration.” That’s right— you did mention to Diluc that you’re pregnant this morning over breakfast, didn’t you?

You take advantage of this impromptu break to make eye contact with your husband, who hasn’t looked this… disheveled in quite some time. Bangs plastered to his forehead, nose and chin dripping with a mix of saliva and your fluids, and pupils blown wide with desire, this is a Diluc you don’t get to see very often— and you know how to revel in the treat.

“Making exceptions to your own rules doesn’t suit you.” There, that one actually sounded teasing.

He offers a sort of shrug in response. “I’d have to be devoid of all emotion entirely to not want to celebrate my wife’s body when she tells me it’s pregnant with our very first child.” He glides his soaked lips down the inside of your thighs elegantly and with purpose, taking care to stop just before where thigh meets labia to really relish in your scent.

“Besides,” Diluc murmurs. “I’d like to map out how your body looks now so I can properly appreciate how much lovelier you’ll look once you begin to actually show how well I’ve bred you.”

gorou

Gorou tentatively asks you to repeat yourself just to make sure that he heard you properly, which carries a good amount of irony given his exceptionally superhuman hearing. He just wants to make sure he heard you properly— telling him you’re pregnant on Mother’s Day? He can’t think of anything more perfect than that, so it’d be a shame if he just imagined you saying it— he’s dreamed of being a father for so long now that if you were to hit him with a “gotcha” now, he might faint from disappointment.

Realistically, he should’ve put two and two together three weeks ago, but leave it to your husband to miss something glaringly obvious without your explicit guidance or direction. It’s almost funny to think that, despite his keen sense of smell, taste, and hearing, his overprotective nature, and his well-developed common sense, it’s so easy for him to miss the elephant in the room and get distracted by something incredibly unrelated to whatever he’s supposed to be looking out for.

He should have known from the second he found himself growing more and more overprotective of you without any visible or tangible piece of evidence as to why— you weren’t sick, you weren’t injured, and you weren’t otherwise vulnerable… or so he thought. It wasn’t obvious to him at the time, but now that you’ve confirmed it for him… it makes perfect sense. His nose already knew you were pregnant then— he picked up in the slightest change in your hormone levels without even realizing it, and now that he knows you’re pregnant?

He won’t leave your side for a single moment these next nine months.

Apparently, his vow to stay by your side 24/7 started the very moment you first broke the news to him— with your husband pressed so close up against you, you wouldn’t be surprised if you two just simply combined. Gorou’s hips slap against your ass so roughly and so quickly the sound of skin making contact with skin bounces off the walls and fills your ears, almost threatening to drown out your husband’s elated rambling.

Almost, but not quite. Nothing will get him to stop talking once he’s already started running his mouth.

“I just— I’ve just wanted this for so long,” he pants, looping his hands around your thighs to press them against the front your belly. “It’s just instinct, I guess? I just— Archons— there’s no better way to spend my life than with a sweet wife and a big, big family of our cute little pups.” He’ll be sure to keep you pregnant now that the precedent has already been established— Gorou knows he’ll miss taking you doggy style when your belly gets too big to safely attempt such a position, but he’s sure he can figure out a nice, comfortable compromise.

“I’ll get lots of time off from work! It’ll be easy. I’ll spend every day taking good, good care of you and our family because that’s— that’s what good husbands do, right? I’ll get Thoma to teach me tons of nutritious meals for you because I only know how to prepare quick rations for troops,” Gorou notes with a sheepish chuckle before he hunches over your back and whimpers brokenly. Will you still be able to take his knot while you’re pregnant, or will it be too much for you? He can’t push you too far now that you’re the most delicate you’ve ever been, heavy with the promise of a big family, right?

“I love you so much,” he gasps, nails digging into your belly softly as he loses control of himself. “And I’ll be the best father possible!”

#happy belated mother’s day to all you gorjust people #reblog to get triple pregnant #cw breeding #cw pregnancy #spicy #alhaitham smut #zhongli smut #diluc smut #gorou smut #gorou x reader #diluc x reader #zhongli x reader #alhaitham x reader #fem reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader

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hees-mine · 6 months

Text

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐲? 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤! - 𝐋.𝐡𝐬

𝐇𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠 ⚥ 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: smut, unprotected sex, breeding kink, pregnancy.

“Goodnight, my little sweat pea,” Heeseung whispers while you both exit your two-year-old daughter's bedroom after reading her a nighttime story. “Come on, babe, let’s get ready for bed.” You nod as he puts his arm around the small of your back, guiding you to the bathroom.

Making your way over to the bathroom counter, you grab your toothbrush and wet it under the running sink.

Meanwhile, heeseung stands a bit further away from you, looking at your reflection in awe, looking at you like it was his first time seeing you, and he doesn’t even try to hide his smile or shameless stare.

You’re unaware of his gaze until he sneaks up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing soft kisses all over your beautiful neck. “Hee, what are you doing that tickles?” you say while giggling.

“You’re so cute,” he mumbles on your neck, trailing his hands down to your stomach, rubbing your tummy as if you were pregnant. “Baby,” he murmurs softly, placing another kiss on your neck before asking you something he’s been meaning to for a while now. “Let’s make another.” he moves to your ear, nibbling on it softly.

“Hee, I don’t know,” you say, a little apprehensive. You were both already taking care of a small child, and you didn’t know how you’d be able to take care of another, especially a newborn.

“Shh Shh Shh.” he trails his hands up and down your sides, squeezing softly as he stands tall behind you and looks at your face in the mirror. “Hear me out on this. First off, little sweet pea can have a playmate. Second, you’ll have more company in the house while I’m out, and I get to take care of you for nine whole months. And I know you love it when I treat you like a queen,” he smiles. At you before pecking your cheek. “Plus, we’re already doing such a great job with our first little one.”

He was right you know he’s right and even you were thinking about it lately you definitely wanted to have another baby with him and grow your tiny little family together. “Hmm, I suppose you’re right.” You place your hands over his that are now resting on your belly.

“You sure baby? I don’t want you to feel like I’m persuading you. It’s just I think there’s more upsides than downsides, you know?” He explains.

“I’m sure, hee I’ve been thinking about it too.” you turned your head to the side, giving him a quick kiss on the lips.

“That makes me so happy,” he grins widely, and you can’t help but smile along with him. “My pretty girl,” he steals another kiss from your hands, going to your waist as he takes a step forward, pressing himself against you as a little preview of what you’re going to get later on. “I can’t wait to see you pregnant again,” he whispers softly and slowly withdraws himself from your frame.

You can’t help but blush at his words as you both finish getting ready for bed.

After you both cleaned up, you went to your bedroom, and it didn’t take either of you long to get in the mood. Heeseung’s lips were already on yours in a messy, rushed kiss as he desperately gripped your sides and made out with you like he hadn’t in months. “I can’t wait to feel you,” he says it so casually while taking off his shirt, and you wonder how he could say something like that so easily cause you were short-circuiting from his words, not to mention the way he looked stripping off his shirt and pants he was driving you crazy, and you barely even touched him. “Baby number 2 on the way,” he laughs and lifts up the hem of your shirt. Your arms go up instantly, helping him take off your clothing, and he bites his lip when he sees that you are braless. He knew you went to sleep every night without one, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t always just as surprised when he saw you without it. “I have such a beautiful wife,” he leans in, bringing you closer to his chest, pressing another soft kiss to your lips, and when he pulls away, he looks completely drunk off the sight of you.

You whine impatiently, already a throbbing mess down there, as you cup his hardened length that was straining against his boxer briefs.

The soft moan he lets out is enough to have you clenching around nothing, and you love the sounds he makes for you so much.

“Babe, I really don’t want to rush this, but I feel like my head is gonna explode if I don’t feel you soon,” he says almost painfully as he closes his eyes and rests his forehead against yours, trying to take deep, calculated breaths to calm himself down.

You were not much better. It seemed like, after the mention of trying for another baby, you two just couldn’t control yourselves. “Me too, hee,” you whimper breathlessly.

“Glad I’m not the only one.” You both break into a fit of giggles, but it’s short-lived cause his hands soon find the waistband of your underwear and easily slip them down your legs while you do the same with his boxers.

You both step out of the last article of clothing, and he lifts you up gently, laying you down on the bed as he climbs over you. It doesn’t take you even a second to wrap your legs and arms around him, trapping him against your body. “Kiss me.” You don’t have to tell him twice before he’s attaching his lips to yours. Your tongues swirl together as you both hum in contentment, feeling somewhat level-headed now that you can actually feel feel each other.

Rotating his hips, he presses himself into you a bit more to run his length along your wetness, soaking his shaft in your beautiful essence.

“Hee,” you break away from the kiss in need of air because the feeling of him on top and rubbing against you was too much for you to handle.

“I love when you call my name like that.” he moves his head down to your chest, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses all over your perky mounds.

This man really wasn’t helping your situation. It’s like he didn’t know the effect he had on you. He was literally driving you insane.

He puts his hand between your legs, propping himself up so he can stimulate you more before entering you, but that wasn’t necessary, especially this time around.

“Hee, please, just” he blushed at your bluntness, and without any hesitation, he held the base of his cock, aligning himself at your hole and easing inside you slowly.

“Oh-“ his words get stuck in his throat the moment his tip touches your opening, and he can’t stop himself from pushing in deeper and deeper. The slide is like nothing he’s ever felt before, and he can’t quite comprehend how you feel better each time he has you. “Mmm babe,” his brows creased together, mouth parted in a silent moan. The only thing coming out was labored breaths as he once again had to calm himself cause he felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest from the sheer intensity of love and pleasure he felt.

You moan his name, your face mirroring his as you both stare into each other's eyes at a complete loss of words from the pleasure between your bodies and when he starts slowly thrusting, you both lose it.

He buries his face in the pillow next to your head, and you opt to kiss and nibble on his shoulder, attempting to quiet your sounds.

With every stroke, he whimpers in your ear, and with every whimper of his, you clench around him. His sounds of ecstasy always made you go so crazy. Everything about him was literally perfect.

“Can’t wait to get you pregnant again,” he moans, and you feel him shudder above you. “Fill you up with my cum breed this pussy till you’re full of our baby.”

Your eyes roll back in your head from his words. It was the perfect amount of sweetness mixed with burning desire.

“You want that too, yeah? Gonna cream your pussy so good round after round stuff you so full of my cum you’ll have no choice but to get pregnant.”

He balls up the sheets in his fist, grinding against your clit with every single move, and you swear you’re in heaven. “Yes hee, please fill me up,” you beg for him. “Wanna feel you cum deep inside of me. Make me pregnant.” You dig your nails into his back, trying your best to hold in your sounds, but it’s so hard that a few start moans fall from your lips.

“Fuck baby, shh,” he moans, shifting his head to press a few little pecks on the side of your lips, barely able to control his sounds from your words. “Can’t wake our little sweet pea.” propping himself up, he cups your right breast in his hand, massaging your erect nipple with his thumb, and when another moan dares to escape you, you hold it in and instead capture his lips in a proper kiss cause if you didn’t you wouldn’t be able to keep quiet.

The feeling of his soft lips working against your own and the slow yet rough strokes of his cock caressing your walls had you coming undone in seconds. He didn’t need a warning. He could already tell you were close, and the messy kisses, muffled whimpers, and uncontrollably spasming around his cock was the sign for him to let go and fill you to the brim with his seed so he could make his precious little wife pregnant.

He moans into the kiss pumping you full of his cum, endless ropes of pearly white coating your insides and hitting your cervix.

Pulling away from the kiss, he whines, still throbbing inside you with each drop of cum he deposits. “I love you so much.” he wraps his arms around you as you tremble in his hold, still trying to process the intense orgasm that seemed to go on forever.

“Love you too so much, seungie.” his eyes reflect yours, and they’re filled with nothing but love as he kisses you and once again leaves you breathless. You swear he’ll be the death of you.

He pulls out slowly, laying on his side of the bed while pulling you up to his chest and stroking your tummy. “I’m so excited,” he smiles vibrantly even after that intense love-making session.

“Seung, we don’t even kno-“ he holds his finger up to your mouth, shushing you.

“We are,” he smiles. “I can feel it, you’ll see,” he says confidently.

He kisses your forehead, and silence ensues for all of a minute. “What if we’re having twins?” You could literally feel how fast his heart was beating in his chest at the thought of having twins.

“Seung, please don’t get your hopes up.” You stroke his chest softly, but he’s definitely not listening to you.

“Think about it! Matching outfits, cute little family photos, they’ll be each other's best friends.” he sounds so excited that you can’t help but feel excited, too, and that idea sounded great.

And not only did it sound great, it was great cause here you both are a little over a year down the road, heeseung’s right and left arms holding his two baby twins while little sweet pea dangled off his leg. “Babe! A little help!” he shouts from the living room, and you come running out of the kitchen to help him carry the two boys while he picks up his daughter. “Thank you.” he smiles brightly and huffs out an exhausted breath after taking care of them all morning while you made breakfast.

“You’re welcome, love.” You smile and kiss his cheek, and the sight of you holding the two boys makes him melt.

“Babe, what if we have another?”

Thanks for reading please reblog and leave feedback.

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 7 months

Note

Hal congrats on the 5k you absolutely deserve it.

I have a request for the 5k event so here it is

The reader is John's wife who's 9 months pregnant and basically about to burst. Reader goes into Labour while John is out on the field.

Again congratulations on 5k you absolutely deserve every single follower since your Storys are just chefs kiss. I'm very glad i found your blog when i did!

—Here Now

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [He nearly misses one of the most important moments of your lives together.] ❞

You had told him you would be fine, and, of course, John knew he could take your word—even if over these nine months he’d been more worried than he had been in his entire life. It would have been difficult for you to say how you were truly feeling about being home alone two days past your due date with no one but the birds outside to give you company.

He had been up at arms about being with you through this, and the man’s stubbornness about that fact had made your face go soft with love. John was the most loyal man you’d ever met; add in a child on the way and he became no better than a hound baying at the scent of a fox. But this had apparently been so important that he’d asked you about the idea of being away for a day—a single day, the man had emphasized, even if the others had to stay wherever they were going for longer. He’d take the red-eye back the second after the time was up, a whole military Heli and all.

One day was far better than one week—far better than one month. So, you’d agreed albeit a bit reluctantly as the man reassured you he’d be back safe and whole. He’d be back for the birth.

Yeah, that was a load of bullshit.

You lay in the hospital room, panting and trying to keep your eyes open as the contractions hit once more; a whimper hidden as you bend your neck forward to let your chin hit your chest.

“Shit,” you breathe, the nurse moving out of the room quickly to grab more water and the doctor for you.

This had been going on for a good four hours—levels of shaking pain that lasted upwards of a minute and had been increasing in frequency more so in the last sixty minutes. They’d finally had you lay back on the bed only a little bit ago, and you knew at that point that John would be unable to make it for the birth of your first child.

The thought terrified you.

You place a hand on your stomach and blink down at it, the raised half of the bed behind you and the chill of the room making you shiver. The buzz of the lights—the closed windows. Your heart is running not only from the thought of this, of all that could go wrong, but also because you now lacked the most steady rock you’d had in your entire life: John. He’d know what to tell you to make you calm down, to make your mind stop with all the panic.

But he’s not here, and that alone makes you want to—

The door opens so quickly it nearly busts off of its hinges.

Your heart sputters, head jerking back as you wince from another contraction, this one far more painful and promising to stay for longer. Closer now. But your eyes blink on something more important.

“I’m here, Love.” As if a phantom, John hurries through, a gaggle of wide-eyed nurses behind him before the door to your room is shut by firm hands. “Fuckin’ hell, Sweetheart, I’m ‘ere, it’s alright.”

He’s still in his gear—lacking weapons as those had probably been tossed away on Base—but vest and hat are present; the large boots with tucked pants and that compression shirt. You watch in shock as he speeds up to the side of your bed, taking your hand in his large one and squeezing. His other grabs the motion-less chair and drags it over with a grunt.

“Now,” John says, shaking his head at you as you simply stare. “You squeeze my hand as hard as you well please then, yeah? Don’t care if you break a few fingers, Love, I’ve been through worse.”

“How…” You mutter, tears welling in your eyes. “How did you…?”

He blinks those tiny blues at you, twitching his nose as his gaze darts down your body.

“Had a feeling,” is all he says.

You laugh through a sob and he presses his forehead into yours, hand on the base of your skull.

“I’m here right now,” he utters. “Gonna have to have a few words with the little Muppet when they’re out about timing. Nearly made me bloody miss it.”

“John Price,” you scolded lightly, laughing.

He only hums and tries to hide his wide grin, eyes shimmering.

By the time it’s all over, he holds the both of you to his vest-less top as he leans back beside your bare dewy skin, the small bundle kept to your chest with its gripping hands. John’s arm was around your shoulders, drawing you to him. You had fallen asleep not minutes prior, and the soldier kept watch as he always had when his girl was needing him.

Well, girls now.

He watches, not speaking, barely breathing, only pulling you closer to him as you sigh and shift. The baby, his and yours baby, gargles and kicks her little feet until he shifts a hand to assist your own in cupping her higher. His smile is uncontainable, just like the sudden glossiness to his eyes at such a tiny weight in his grip.

John watches, and he comes to a conclusion as he presses a deep kiss into your scalp, his thumb taken into the smallest grip that has ever held it.

There was never a more beautiful sight than the one right in front of him.

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joelsgreys · 7 months

Text

a safe haven l nine

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist l previous chapter l next chapter

summary: When you find out that you’re pregnant, everything comes crumbling down around you.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. (TW) THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS A SCENE THAT HEAVILY IMPLIES DOMESTIC VIOLENCE. this chapter it also contains a very uncomfortable scene with reader and Luke, but despite the sexual nature of the scene, READER DOES NOT GET SA, BUT SHE DOES GET INJURED. INJURY there is a description of an injury as the result of DV HEAVILY IMPLYING STRANGULATION. PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. pregnancy, mentions of high risk pregnancy (not reader), mentions of child loss (not reader), mentions of pregnancy related symptoms (missed menstrual cycle, morning sickness), protective Tommy Miller, protective Joel, and last but certainly not least, feral Joel. this chapter is a lot, just proceed with caution if anything in bold can be a potential trigger for you.

word count: 11.8k

October, 2024

It’s the middle of October.

By now, the pain had become almost unbearable. Time certainly wasn’t healing the wound.

If anything, time only seemed to be making it worse.

So, so much fucking worse.

It drags, and you almost feel as if you’re paralyzed by it. But the only thing that you can do about it, about any of this, is just pretend.

Pretend everything is okay.

Pretend it doesn’t hurt.

Pretend you don’t feel empty.

Pretend you don’t need him.

But you do need him. Oh, how you fucking need him.

The hole in your heart is growing bigger by the day, and only Joel Miller is capable of filling the void. Only he has the ability to make you feel whole again. Complete.

“Be honest with me—what does this look like?”

You pause your knitting and glance over at Maria.

With her due date approaching, you had offered to help her prepare for the baby’s arrival. At about six months, Maria was expected to give birth towards the middle of winter season, and instead of trading or having to use rations for certain baby items, like blankets, little socks and mittens, you’d decided to show her how to make them instead. Not only was it saving her from having to trade or use her rations on things that could easily be knitted, but it served as a decent, albeit temporary, distraction, giving your mind the chance to focus on something else other than how deeply you were hurting without Joel.

Tilting your head slightly, you eye the soft, butter yellow wool she’s holding in her hands. “Um, is that the start of another baby blanket?”

“No.” Maria’s face falls. “It’s supposed to be a hat.”

“Oh. Um.” You lean forward in the brown leather armchair you’re perched on, squinting hard at it as she holds it up. “Okay, yeah, I can kind of see the shape of it now. I can totally see it being a little hat for the baby.” She tosses you a knowing smile and you squirm slightly, heat prickling at your ears.

“I appreciate you lying to me.” She giggles and sets down her knitting needles beside her on the couch along with the ball of wool yarn. Leaning back, she places both hands on her belly and sighs. “At the very least this child will never go without a blanket seeing as blankets are all I’m capable of making.”

You flash her a small, but reassuring smile.

“You’ll get the hang of it, Maria, I promise. It just takes some practice, that’s all.”

“Well, now that Luke has put me on strict bed rest until I have the baby, I’m going to have all the time in the world to practice,” Maria remarks, exhaling another sigh. Craning her neck, she peers at your own knitting project, which you’ve been working on in something of a secretive manner in your lap and out of the expectant mother’s view. “What are you making over there, anyway?”

Her timing couldn’t have been more perfect.

“I’m so glad you asked since I’m just about done.”

Crossing the last stitch, you set aside your knitting needles and then hold up the finished product. “What do you think of these?”

Maria’s hand flies to her mouth, tears welling up in her dark eyes the moment she sees the pair of little brown baby booties in your hands. “I’m sorry,” she apologizes, a tear rolling down the side of her face as you stand up and walk across her living room to present her with the shoes. Sitting down beside her, you hold them out in the palms of your hands. With trembling fingers, she accepts them. “Kevin had a pair just like these when he was a newborn. I kept them even after he’d outgrown them.” She lets out a small laugh in spite of herself. “You know, I’d always complain that he was growing up too fast. I used to wish that I could slow time down a little so I could enjoy my son being that young longer,” she admits, sniffing. She reaches up, dabbing at her damp eyes with one of her hands. “And now Kevin is frozen in time, forever a three year old little boy.”

She sets the booties down on her belly and inhales deeply, willing herself to keep her composure.

Swallowing back your own emotions, you brush a single, stray tear from her cheek with your thumb. It wasn’t the first time that she’d opened up about losing her child—but Maria often kept her emotions hidden, tucked away along with her son’s memory. For the last several years, she’d dedicated most of her time and energy to Jackson and to its people, pouring herself completely into her role as the community’s leader. But now that Luke had placed her on strict bed rest for the rest of her pregnancy, Maria had no choice but to step down, temporarily handing the role over to Tommy, along with a small council she’d handpicked herself.

It hadn’t been easy for her, after all, there was only so much she could do to keep herself preoccupied while being confined to the four walls of her home. She found her mind wandering to Kevin a lot more often than not lately, and the pregnancy hormones did absolutely nothing to help in the matter.

“Maria?” you say her name softly. “You okay?”

She slowly exhales the breath she’d been holding.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she finally replies, sniffing again.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” She pauses momentarily. “I just—there’s a part of me that still has trouble believing I’m going to be a mother again. It’s been so long, you know? What if I’ve forgotten how to be a good mom?”

Dropping your hand from Maria’s face, you offer it out for her to hold. She accepts it and you give her hand a gentle squeeze as you vouch, “This baby, they couldn’t be any luckier than to have a mother like you, Maria.”

“And a fuckin’ hell of a dad like me,” a voice teases from the doorway.

Tommy, who had been down at the commune’s market picking up some potatoes for dinner, saunters into the living room with a brown paper bag in his arm. Setting the bag down onto a nearby table, he then makes his way over to his wife. Noticing that she’d been crying, he leans over and presses his lips against her forehead, softly murmuring, “You doin’ alright, sweetheart?”

“I’m alright,” she assures him with a nod. “I’m just extra sensitive and hormonal right now. The usual.”

He hums. “Uh, yeah, I kinda figured that out when you bawled your way through Old Yeller at the movies the other night.”

She pouts. “Pregnant or not, that movie’s a tear jerker, okay? Only people made of stone don’t cry when the dog dies.”

“She’s got a point, Tommy,” you agree with a shrug. “I cried too, and I’m not pregnant.”

Drawing himself back up to his full height, Tommy glances at the booties resting on Maria’s belly. He picks them up and holds them both in the palm of his hand.

“Well, ain’t these just the teeniest things I ever did see,” he remarks with a soft chuckle. “Who made these?”

Maria jerks her chin towards you. “She did.”

Tommy’s eyes meet yours and it feels like a punch to the fucking gut—they remind you of his brother. “Almost feels like a crime, havin’ you make clothes for our kid for free,” he states, shaking his head as he hands them back to Maria. “You’re makin’ the baby’s entire wardrobe at this point, little lady.”

Sheepishly, you wave a dismissive hand at him. “I made one sweater and a couple pairs of mittens for them. I wouldn’t exactly call that a wardrobe, Tommy.”

“It’s a hell of a lot more stuff than we had before. I gotta be honest, it just don’t feel right acceptin’ all these things from you without payin’ somehow. I’d really like to at least trade you somethin’ for them.”

Shaking your head, you politely decline the offer.

“I appreciate it, but I really don’t need anything.”

“What ‘bout Luke?”

“He doesn’t either.”

“But—”

“Honey, don’t waste your breath,” Maria chimes in with a sigh. “I’ve been trying to get her to accept a trade all week long and she simply won’t budge.”

Tommy purses his lips together, slowly rubbing his chin in thought. “Okay, I’ve got an idea,” he proposes after a minute. “How ‘bout you and Luke both come on over and join us for dinner later tonight? That ain’t too bad of a deal, right?”

You silently mull over the offer for a second.

“If I accept the invitation, then will you two knock it off with all this damn trade nonsense?” When he eagerly nods, you sigh. “Alright then, I accept. We’ll come over for dinner tonight. Granted he doesn’t come home late from the clinic again.”

“Perfect,” he grins. “See, that wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

Knowing he only means well, you decide to be a good sport about it and smile at him. “No, Tommy. I suppose it wasn’t.”

“Great!” Maria beams. “We haven’t had a chance to get together for dinner in months. Lately when I see Luke, it’s as his patient,” she muses. “I have to admit, it’ll be so nice to have a conversation with him that doesn’t revolve around my uterus for once.”

Tommy jokingly makes a face. “Yeah. Tell the doc to leave all that medical stuff at the door before he comes over. Last thing I wanna hear ‘bout while I’m chowin’ down on some big, juicy bison steaks is what fuckin’ size my wife’s uterus is—”

“Tommy! That’s not funny!” Rolling her eyes at her husband, Maria turns to you to apologize but she stops short when she notices a sudden, not to mention drastic, change in your complexion. Frowning, she reaches up and touches your cheek. “Hey, you don’t look so good. Are you feeling alright?”

You can taste the bile at the back of your throat.

“I—I’m sorry, what did you just say was for dinner?”

Tommy shoots you a strange look. “Uh, steaks?”

The mere mention of the word sends a violent wave of sickness crashing over you—slapping your hand tightly over your mouth, you scramble to jump off the couch and make a beeline for their downstairs bathroom right across the hallway. You’d made it just in time to fall to your knees in front of the toilet. Clutching the sides of the porcelain bowl, you gag loudly, and the sickening sound of your retching bounces off the walls.

As your stomach heaves, you feel one hand gather your hair to hold it back and out of your face, while the other rubs soothing circles into your back.

“Let it all out,” Maria encourages you. “It’s alright, just let it all out. There you go, get everything out.”

Tommy pokes his head into the bathroom.

“She okay?”

“Tommy! Get out of here!” Maria scolds him over her shoulder. “She doesn’t need an audience!”

He holds up his hands. “Alright, alright! Sheesh, I was just makin’ sure she’s okay, you ain’t gotta bite my head off!” He huffs at her. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you two need me.” Without another word, he spins around on the heel of his boot and disappears.

Once you’re certain there’s nothing left, your trembling hand reaches for the handle on the tank and pulls it down, flushing the toilet. You then sit back, slumping against the wall. “Jesus. I am so fucking sorry. I have no idea what the hell came over me,” you groan, the embarrassment evident in your tone as you wipe at your mouth with the sleeve of your flannel shirt.

Maria peers at you with a suspicious glint in her eyes.

“You know,” she says, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear, “About five months ago, I went through a phase where I couldn’t stand the thought of meat—any kind, but red meat had to be the worst. I just could not stomach it.” Her hand falls away from your face and she rises to her feet with a labored grunt. Leaning back against the sink, she continues to say, “Poor Tommy, he couldn’t even mention it to me or I’d throw up on his boots. Not long after that, I found out I was pregnant.”

You stare at her, your lips parting slightly. “Maria, you can’t seriously be insinuating—I am not pregnant. No, it’s not possible, you know that I can’t have kids,” you sputter out, furiously shaking your head. “There’s just no fucking way that I’m—”

Maria holds up her hands to stop you. “When was the date of your last menstrual cycle?”

“It was recent.”

“How recent?”

Silently, you start counting the weeks and you freeze the moment you realize you’d missed September completely, and October’s cycle had been due two weeks ago. You’ve been so lost in your own grief, so busy trying to keep yourself from falling apart, that you hadn’t even realized you haven’t bled since—

“August,” you breathe out in a terrified whisper.

The last time you had your period was in August.

August.

Before you had slept with Joel Miller for the first time.

Maria whirls around and starts digging in the medicine cabinet above the sink, and then in the one below it. After a minute of rummaging, she turns back around and extends a hand out to you, offering to help you to your feet. She lets out another grunt as she helps you stand. “I had one left,” she states, holding out her other hand to you, an individually wrapped pregnancy test in her palm. “At this point, I don’t think you even need to take a test, but it doesn’t hurt to have solid proof.”

You can hardly choke out her name. “Maria—”

She hastily shoves the test into your hands. “Just take it. I’ll be back in to check on you, okay?”

Not giving you the chance to protest, she steps out of the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

You look down at the test in your palm and then up into the mirror, meeting your own wide eyes in the reflection.

It can’t be possible. It just can’t be possible.

You can’t have children.

With shaking hands, you unzip your blue jeans and then tear open the package. Your mind is in such a haze, you have to read the instructions three or four times before the information finally sticks. After taking the test, you lay it down top of the counter with the results window facing down. You pull your panties and jeans back into place and wash your hands using the bar of soap next to the sink—all the while, the sheer panic has started to settle in, the fear that accompanies it seeping deep into your bones.

Swallowing harshly, you realize it’d been well over the three minutes the package had instructed you to wait for the results.

“It’s negative. It’s negative,” you affirm quietly over and over underneath your breath as you pick it up and flip it in your hand. “It’s negative. It’s negative—”

You stop, and for a second, your heart feels like it stops too.

Horrified, you blink furiously, as if somehow you’ve misread the results—but there is no fucking mistaking those two solid little pink lines.

Your blood runs cold in your veins.

You’re pregnant.

Luke hasn’t touched you in months.

And you’re pregnant.

Luke hasn’t touched you in months.

And you are fucking pregnant.

Maria knocks lightly on the bathroom door.

“It’s been a few minutes now—can I come in?”

She waits, only to be met with complete silence.

“Hey, hon.” She knocks again. “Is everything okay?”

Again, there’s no response from the other side of the door.

“Christ, Maria.” Tommy suddenly appears beside her with a glass of water in his hand. Flashing his wife a teasing look, he quips, “Can’t you let the poor girl do her goddamn business in peace? What’s wrong with you, woman?”

Maria frowns. “I think something’s wrong.”

His playful grin falters. “What do you mean?”

“She’s not answering me.”

Tommy chortles, quirking an eyebrow at her. “Maybe ‘cause she’s actually in there doin’ her business?”

Hesitantly, Maria bites down on her bottom lip.

“What? What is it?”

“I gave her a pregnancy test to take.”

Tommy’s eyes widen. “You fuckin’ with me?”

Maria glares at him. “No! I’m not fucking with you, I’m being serious! I gave her the test and then told her I would check back in with her after she took it, but now she’s not answering me and I’m kind of worried.”

“The door locked?”

She shakes her head. “No, I don’t think it is. Should we just open the door and see if she’s okay? I don’t want to barge in there but—”

Tommy hands Maria the glass of water. “Hey,” he calls lightly as he raps on the door with his fist. “Everythin’ alright in there?” He waits for a minute, but when you don’t reply, he grasps the brass doorknob in his hand and says sternly, “Now you listen here, little lady. You had best answer me right now, or we’re gonna have to come in, you understand me?”

Silence.

“Last chance, talk or I’m gonna open this door.”

Nothing.

“Alright then, suit yourself. Hope you’re decent.”

Tommy turns the knob, cracking the door open—when he doesn’t see you, he tries pushing it open further. The door stops halfway, and he peers around it only to find you sitting on the floor with your back against the wall, preventing the door from going any further. “Shit, she’s sittin’ right behind the goddamn—fuckin’ hold on, Maria! If I try shovin’ it open, I could hurt her!” Being careful so as not to hit you or step on you by accident, he squeezes his way into the bathroom. He crouches down beside you, cupping your cheek in the palm of his hand. “Hey, what is it? What’s the matter?”

Your eyes flicker up to meet his.

You can’t speak. You can’t move.

All that you can do is stare at him. Petrified.

“C’mon, little lady,” he coaxes, softly. “Talk to me.”

“Tommy! Let me in!” Maria demands, impatiently. “Can you move her? I can’t squeeze through, my belly is way too big.”

Tommy slides one arm around your shoulders and the other arm under your knees. “I’m just gonna move you out the way so Maria can come in, alright? C’mere.” He gingerly slides you across the tile and cradles the side of your body against his chest. He then calls out to his wife, “There, that should be enough room!”

Maria pushes the door open and rushes inside. “Is she okay?” Gripping Tommy’s shoulder, she slowly lowers herself to kneel beside you. Her eyes go straight to the test clutched in your hand. She just about has to pry your ice cold fingers off the white stick one by one. “It’s positive,” she gasps. “Your results are positive—you’re going to have a baby!”

Tommy lets out a loud, gleeful laugh. “Did’ya hear that, little lady? You’re gonna have a baby! You’re gonna be a mama! Ain’t that great news?”

Finally, you snap out of your trance. Your eyes anxiously bounce between Tommy and Maria, heart pounding as they eagerly wait for your reaction with smiles of pure excitement on their faces.

“I—” Unable to utter another word, you burst into tears.

And they’re certainly not tears of happiness.

No, the sobs coming from deep within you aren’t full of joy at the news that you’re going to be a mother.

They’re pained. Cries full of sorrow, anguish, and fear. As the confusion flashes across their faces, all you can do is weep harder, and louder.

“Wait a minute, I thought you would be happy.” Maria’s hands reach for yours and she holds them tightly as she tries to understand what it is that is causing such a negative reaction. “You and Luke tried for a really long time to have another baby. Why are you so upset?” She keeps her voice calm, kind. Warm. It wasn’t that she was judging you—Maria wants to help you, however there’s no way for her to help you if she doesn’t know what’s causing your grief in the first place. “What’s the matter, honey? Are you afraid after what happened last time?”

“I can’t be pregnant,” you rasp out. “I can’t—”

“Hey now, it’s alright. C’mere.” Tommy shifts and he moves to sit down beside you against the wall. His arm drapes around your trembling shoulders in an effort to comfort you. As your entire body shudders with sobs, he pulls you close against his side, rubbing your arm with his hand. Once they’ve subsided and little hiccups are all that are left, he finally speaks again. “You can talk to us, little lady. ‘Bout anythin’ that’s on your mind. We care ‘bout you a whole lot. Y’know that, don’t you?”

“Tommy’s right,” Maria nods. “You’re like family to us. You can come to us about anything. We’ll do whatever we can to help you, okay?”

You shake your head tightly. “I can’t. I just can’t.”

She lets out a small sigh and glances at her husband with a look of defeat. “I think you should run down to the clinic and get Luke. He’ll know what to do to calm her down.”

“No!” you shout loudly, startling them both. “I—Luke can’t find out that I’m pregnant. He just can’t know, or else—” A fresh batch of tears spring forward as you clamp a hand over your mouth, muffling another wail.

“Or else what?” Maria asks, raising an eyebrow.

Or else he was going to fucking kill you.

Tommy grabs your wrist, gently tugging it away from your face. “Or else what?” He echoes his wife. “What is goin’ on? Is there somethin’ we should know ‘bout?”

Yet another sob escapes you and his fingers curl tighter around your wrist, firmly, but he’s careful not to be too harsh.

“We’re gonna need you to tell us what’s goin’ on.”

There’s no way around it. Around any of it.

You have to tell them.

Swallowing harshly, you admit, “There is.”

The couple waits expectantly.

“The baby isn’t Luke’s.” You mumble it so quietly and incoherently that neither of them hear it despite being in such close proximity.

Maria furrows an eyebrow. “What did you say?”

“The baby isn’t Luke’s!” You cry out, yanking your wrist out of Tommy’s hand. “This baby isn’t his and that’s why he can’t fucking know!”

And just like that, the truth comes tumbling out.

Luke’s violence towards you.

Your romantic affair with Joel.

Ellie discovering the abuse and telling him about it.

Your stubborn refusal to let either of them do anything to help you.

You spare no details of everything that had taken place over the last several months, and by the time you had finally finished, both Tommy and Maria were rendered completely speechless.

“Can one of you say something? Please? Anything at all?” Your voice is small, feeble.

After a minute, Tommy pulls his arm from around your shoulders and stands up. He helps Maria up to her feet before he extends his hand to you. “Alright, first thing’s first. Let me get you up off this floor, little lady.”

His voice is soft, and so is his gaze.

“Tommy how can you—after everything that I’ve done? Your brother—”

“Please. Just let me help you off the floor and then we can talk ‘bout it. Okay?”

You accept his hand, allowing him to pull you to your feet. Much to your surprise, he doesn’t let it go as he leads you out of the bathroom and back into the living room where he sits you down on the couch. Maria, who hasn’t said a single word, takes a seat beside you.

Tommy kneels down in front of you, placing a warm and gentle hand on your leg. He almost looks a little bit guilty, as if he should have known what was being done to you behind closed doors. “Look, m’gonna ask you a question and I need an honest answer. How long has he been doin’ this to you?”

Anxiously, you start wringing your hands in your lap.

“Tommy, I can’t. Please, don’t—”

“Tell me,” he encourages you, softly. “When did it first start?”

Your throat bobs. “Two months after my dad died,” you confess, another tear rolling down the side of your face.

Maria stiffens. “Luke has been putting his hands on you for two years?”

“Yes.”

You can hear the shame in your own voice—shame for letting the abuse go on as long as it has, for everything to come to light like this.

“Fuckin’ hell.” Tommy sighs heavily and hangs his head. “Joel told me. He fuckin’ told me.”

You wipe at your swollen eyes with your forearm.

“What are you talking about, Tommy?”

He sighs again.

“Months ago, the day after the big summer party,” he begins to explain. “We were at the bar. Joel was askin’ me ‘bout you and Luke. Said somethin’ just wasn’t right when he saw you two together for the first time. He tried to tell me somethin’ was wrong and I—I didn’t fuckin’ believe him. Told him he was seein’ what he wanted to see ‘cause I knew he liked you. I fuckin’ told him that you and Luke were happy. He tried to tell me and I didn’t fuckin’ listen to him.”

“Tommy, please don’t blame yourself for this,” you beg him. “I’m the one who chose to hide it. This is my own fault, okay? This is all on me, not on you.”

Maria furiously shakes her head. “It’s not your fault and it sure as hell isn’t on you. You’re the victim here.”

Victim.

The word makes you cringe.

“But it is my fault, Maria. I hid it from you guys for two fucking years.”

“But why? Why did you hide it? Why didn’t you come to us?” Tommy’s voice is strained. “You should’ve told us what he was doin’ to you. We—I could’a done somethin’ to stop it. I could’a helped you.”

“Because. I didn’t want to risk getting him thrown out of the community. Jackson needs him, Tommy.”

“Like hell we do,” Tommy rises to his feet. “Ain’t no way that we’re gonna tolerate that fuckin’ shit here.” With his hands curled tightly into fists, he spins around and starts heading towards the front door.

You stand and chase after him, catching him just as he opens it. “Where the hell are you going?”

“To confront that pathetic son of a bitch—”

“Tommy, please! Don’t do that.” Grabbing his arm, you shoot him a pleading look. “Please, think about this for a minute.”

“Ain’t nothin’ for me to fuckin’ think ‘bout, alright?”

“Yes, there fucking is! This town needs a doctor. They need Luke—Maria needs Luke.” You glance over at her just as she appears in the hallway with both hands on her belly. “God forbid that something goes wrong—she goes into preterm labor or she has a complication when she gives birth. Did you think about that?”

“We’ve got two nurses,” he reminds you.

“Two nurses who only know basic neonatal care. That’s it. If something serious happens, Maria’s going to need Luke. And the baby’s going to need him too.”

You knew you’d gotten your point across when Tommy turns to his wife, helplessly.

“Fuck,” he curses, slamming the door shut. “She’s right. I fuckin’ hate to say it, but she’s right ‘bout that.”

“I am right,” you state and his attention flits back to you. “Luke has to stay and you both know that as well as I do. For the good of Jackson, he has to stay.”

Conflicted, Tommy growls out in frustration. “So what, I’m just s’pposed to give him a fuckin’ pass? How the hell can you expect us—how can you expect me to let that motherfucker walk around this place knowin’ what he’s been doin’ to you over these last two years?”

Your fingers dig into his arm, a fresh batch of hot tears stinging your eyes. “Tommy, if this community suffers without Luke because of me, it will destroy me. The guilt will fucking destroy me.”

Finally, Maria decides to step in. “Listen, I know that you’re trying to look out for the people of this town and I get that. But you’re risking your own life by asking us to let him stay here.” She walks over to you, taking your hands in hers. “Honey, I know men like Luke because I used to prosecute men like Luke. I would take them to court on murder charges.” Her eyes find yours. “I don’t want to scare you, but if that is the only way for me to get through to you, then I will sit you down and I will tell you all about what happened to the women who swore to me their abusive husbands would never, ever take it that far.”

You swallow harshly and a chill runs up your spine.

“I’ll leave,” you squeak. “I’ll leave him.”

“And what if he doesn’t let you walk away?”

Tommy crosses his arms over his chest. “He will if I’m the one who fuckin’ talks to him. I ain’t gonna give him the choice. He has to let her go.”

Panicked, you furiously shake your head. “No! I can do this on my own, Tommy. I can handle him alone. I don’t need you to do it for me. I can fix this without your help, okay?”

“You can’t,” he says, firmly. “You just can’t.”

“Yes, I can—”

He cuts you off with a pleading look.

“You need to let us help you. Please. Let us help you.”

You had agreed to it, but only on one condition.

“I need a couple of days,” you’d told them.

Tommy frowned. “No. It’s happenin’ tonight. We’re gonna talk to Luke, you’re gonna pack up a couple bags, and we’re gettin’ you away from him. You can stay here with us for a while. You’ll be safe.” Taking notice of the shocked look on your face, he said, “I know you ain’t crazy enough to think I’m gonna let you go home to him tonight. Ain’t no way in hell.”

“I—this is all happening so fast. It’s too overwhelming, Tommy. I just need a day or two to process everything before I take that leap.”

“And give Luke the fuckin’ chance to hurt you again?”

“He hasn’t laid a finger on me in weeks now.”

Tommy scoffed, “Well, someone give him a fuckin’ medal!” He exclaimed, throwing his hands up. “He hasn’t hit his wife in weeks! What a fuckin’ guy!”

You recoiled, his sarcasm stinging like he’d poured salt straight into the open wound.

“Tommy,” Maria glared at him. “Not helping.”

He immediately shot you an apologetic look.

“Shit. Sorry, little lady. I’m just real worried ‘bout you. I don’t like the idea of you goin’ home to him tonight, and much less knowin’ that you’re pregnant, y’know?” His eyes had fallen to your stomach with sudden curiosity. “When, uh—when do you plan on tellin’ Joel ‘bout the baby, anyway?”

Heat flooded your face and neck.

“I—I’m not really sure about that yet.”

“Jesus Christ, Tommy! She just told you that she’s feeling overwhelmed,” Maria chastised him. “Let’s take it one step at a time, okay? Our first priority is going to be to get her out of that house. She has already agreed to letting us help her, so I think there’s a bit of room for compromise. Here’s the deal.” She put a hand on your shoulder. “As much as I don’t want to let you go home to him tonight either, I’m going to allow it so you can take a breather. Tomorrow in the afternoon when you get home from work duty, I’ll come over and help you pack some clothes and necessities, and we can bring them over here to our place.”

Nervously chewing your lower lip, you asked, “And then what?”

“I’ll go confront Luke,” Tommy stated. “Best if you ain’t there when I talk to him, little lady.” He turned to Maria, placing a hand on her belly. “I don’t want you to be there either, sweetheart. I ain’t takin’ any chances and puttin’ you and the baby under stress so I’m gonna have to handle him alone, alright?”

Maria nodded, shifting her attention back to you. “So? Do we have a deal?”

Meekly, you had nodded in agreement. “Yes. We have a deal.”

The rest of that evening passes by in a blur.

Autopilot had taken over the moment that Tommy took you across the road and dropped you off at your door.

“Any problems, you come get me,” he’d said. “You come and get me. No matter what time it is, alright? You fuckin’ come and get me if he tries anythin’.”

All that you could do was give him a weak nod and then you’d turned around, slipping into the house.

You don’t remember cooking dinner.

You don’t remember looking at the clock, noticing it was well past dinnertime and realizing that Luke would be home late as usual. You don’t remember fixing him a plate and leaving it on top of the stove for him to find when he came home, storing all of the leftovers, and washing the small pile of dirty dishes in the sink.

You don’t remember heading upstairs afterwards, you don't remember taking a long shower, brushing your teeth or changing into your pajamas.

It wasn’t until hours later, when the bedroom door opened and Luke walked in, that autopilot finally disengaged.

“You’re still up?”

You’d been sitting on the foot of the bed anxiously picking at your fingernails without even realizing it until he glared at you—he’d always hated the habit and spent months smacking it out of you.

Ceasing from messing with your hands, you drop them into your lap.

“You’re home really late again,” you say, quietly.

“I made a last minute house call. John’s little boy came down with a hell of a fever tonight.” Luke sets down his satchel bag and shrugs out of his jacket—as he does so, you catch sight of the tiny, reddish purple bruise on his neck, right below his ear. Draping his jacket over a nearby chair, he arches his brow as if he were silently challenging you to confront him, as if he’s daring you to ask him who had given him a love bite.

You don’t care. You don’t care about what or who Luke has been doing over the last several nights when he’s been coming home so much later than usual.

Kicking off his black boots, he saunters over to you, his mouth stretching into a cruel, satisfied little smirk.

Oh, he knows damn well you’ve already figured it out.

He wanted you to figure it out.

“Spend the afternoon at Tommy and Maria’s again?”

“Yes. I did.”

“I see.” He hums. “She was telling me during her exam this morning at the clinic that you’ve been helping her knit some clothes for the baby. Is that so?”

“I have,” you murmur, looking down to avert his curious gaze as he stops in front of you. “We’ve been making blankets for the baby, too.”

Luke cups your chin, forcing your eyes back up to meet his. “Well, isn’t that sweet of you.” He roughly curls his fingers around your jaw, his thumb brushing along your quivering lower lip. He hums again. “Something about you seems different, darling. Been looking a lot prettier to me these days.” He lets go of your jaw and brushes your hair behind your shoulder, his finger skimming the strap of your cotton pajama top. “How long has it been now, sweetheart?”

Your throat goes dry, your lips parting in shock as Luke pulls it down your arm, his palm grazing over your skin.

No. This can’t be happening. He wants to—?

Without waiting for a response, Luke grabs one of your hands and places it over his belt buckle.

Noticing your expression, he laughs again. “Why do you look so surprised?”

“You—you haven’t wanted to touch me in months.”

Luke shrugs. “Well, what can I say? I’m suddenly in the mood for my pretty little wife’s cunt.” His grin stretches from ear to ear. “Who knows, maybe we’ll get lucky this time. Maybe we’ll have a little one of our own running around this place. I’m feeling rather optimistic tonight.”

You’re going to be fucking sick all over him.

No, you can’t let him do this to you.

You can’t let him touch you.

He pushes your hand lower, right over his bulge.

“No!” Tearing your hand away, you jump up and roughly shove him away from you. “Don’t you fucking touch me!”

He stumbles backwards, but he catches himself before he can fall.

Your chest heaves a d he stares at you, bewildered at what you had just done. “I’m so sorry that whoever you fucked before you came home wasn’t enough for you, but you are not fucking touching me,” you spit at him. “In fact, you’re never touching me ever again because I’m leaving. I’m done, Luke.”

“Excuse me?”

“You fucking heard me.” Your voice trembles—you can’t be sure if it trembles out of anger or out of the sheer terror you feel. Maybe it’s a bit of both. “It’s over, Luke. This marriage is fucking over. I’m not putting up with what you’ve been doing to me for the past two years. I’m not going to tolerate it. Not anymore. I’m not going to allow you to keep on hurting me.” Lifting your hand, you slide your wedding band off of your finger and toss it at him. It clinks as it lands on the hardwood floor near his feet. “I’ll be out of the house by tomorrow evening.”

“Let me take a guess.” He speaks calmly, much too calmly, as he starts towards you. The time bomb has started ticking. “You’re going to move in with Joel Miller and his feral little rat of a kid?”

Hands curling into fists at your sides, you seethe, “Where I move is none of your fucking business, Luke.” He steps closer and your courage starts to falter. You can feel yourself wanting to back down—the thought of your unborn child is the only thing that keeps you from completely losing your nerve. “Here is the deal. You’re going to let me leave and you’re going to stay the fuck away from me. If you do that, then I won’t tell anyone anything about the things you’ve done to me. It’ll be like none of it ever happened. We both move on with our lives. Separately. Got it?”

He draws closer and closer. Much too close.

“Oh, you silly, silly girl,” he tsks. “Do you really think you can call the shots? Do you really fucking think you have the upper hand here? That you can make the decision to end this marriage, just like that?”

Closer, until his chest brushes against yours.

“Luke, I’m giving you a fucking chance here,” you say, backing away until the back of your knees hit the edge of the mattress. With nowhere else to go, to run, you fall backwards onto the bed, scrambling up towards the headboard. Your heart is pounding, too hard and too fast—would it give out before he even has the chance to get his hands on you? “Luke, please, just let me go.” Clasping your hands together in a plea, you beg him, your back pressed against the headboard, “If at any point in our relationship you loved me—if at any point in our marriage you actually cared about me, you will fucking let me go in peace. Please. Just let me go. Let me fucking go.”

Luke stands at the foot of the bed, his face blank.

Emotionless. There isn’t a single ounce of compassion in his eyes. No mercy.

“Please,” you whisper once more. Curling both of your arms around yourself, you subconsciously protect your belly.

Luke reaches down and unbuckles his belt.

You watch, your stomach churning, as he slowly slides the black leather from the loops of his jeans.

“I’m not letting you go anywhere.”

“I mean it, Joel. Stay away from Luke.”

Joel clutches his stallion’s reins tightly in his hands as the pair fall into a slow, easy trot behind Tommy and his horse, Ranger.

He follows his brother as he leads the way through the quiet, tranquil plains of Wyoming. Instead of scanning their surroundings for signs of potential danger, all Joel can do is think about you—that was all he could ever do these days, was fucking think about you and about that fucking night.

The memory plays over and over in his mind on a loop, torturing him day in and day out. It never fucking stops. Repeat, repeat, repeat.

“I mean it, Joel. Stay away from Luke. And maybe it’s for the best if you just fucking stay away from me too.”

That’s precisely what he had done. He had stayed away from Luke. And against his better judgement, he had stayed away from you, too.

“How’s it feel to be back out here?” Tommy asks over his shoulder. He tugs at the reins and gives Ranger the cue to slow his trot, giving Joel and his horse, Bandit, the chance to catch up and ride at their side. “Bet you couldn’t be fuckin’ happier to be off house arrest, huh?” he adds, a light joking edge to his tone.

After about four and a half weeks, Joel had made a full recovery, and he was cleared to return to patrol duties. Wanting to ease him back into the swing of things after so much time off, Tommy decided to pair up with Joel as his partner for that morning’s watch. The two took a route just a few miles west of the community, one that was scoured every couple of days since it was so close to Jackson’s main gate.

“S’alright,” he mutters with a shrug that causes him to wince. His shoulder’s still a little sore. Ellie had assisted with his physical therapy, badgering him every single night to do the exercises in some book she’d found in the town’s library with Dina’s help. He had full range of motion again, and that’s all Tommy had needed in order to allow him to return to patrol.

“You feelin’ alright?” His brother notices the slight look of discomfort on his face. “Shoulder’s good?”

“Any particular reason you’re bein’ so annoyin’ today?”

Tommy feigns offense. “You got fuckin’ shot, Joel. Just makin’ sure you’re okay. Jesus.”

Joel lets out a small huff through his nose. “M’fine,” he assures him. “Shoulder’s good. Still hurts a little and the cold weather ain’t doin’ a whole lot to help, but ain’t nothin’ I can’t handle.” Sitting back in his saddle, he lets his thighs close around Bandit. “Whoa,” he utters to the animal, his fingers squeezing the reins as he signals for Bandit to come to a halt.

“What’s the matter? Why are we stoppin’?”

“This route’s clear, Tommy. We should turn around and go find the rest of the group. Check and see if the other routes are clear too.” Joel clicks his tongue, prompting Bandit to move again. He steers the stallion and starts turning around to lead them back east, but then stops once more. He glimpses over at Tommy, who hasn’t moved a muscle. Noticing the odd, pensive expression on his face, Joel frowns, asking, “What’s wrong?”

Tommy chews the inside of his cheek, his apprehension written all over his face. “Uh Joel, there’s something we need to talk ‘bout and maybe it’s best if we do it while we’re out here, just the two of us.”

Confused, Joel’s eyebrows pull together. “What is it?”

His brother hesitates. His lips purse together, a sudden look of regret flashing across his features.

“Tommy?” Joel prompts. “The hell’s goin’ on?”

Exhaling a heavy sigh, he states, “You were right.”

“Right ‘bout what?”

“‘Bout Luke.”

Joel freezes in the seat of his saddle.

“You were fuckin’ right ‘bout him mistreatin’ her.”

His grip around the reins tightens, skin stretching thin over his knuckles so tight they’d gone white.

“She was over at mine yesterday afternoon. Ended up tellin’ me and Maria everthin’ ‘bout Luke and what he’s done.” Rolling his lower lip between his teeth, Tommy pauses for a second before repeating, “You were right. You were fuckin’ right ‘bout that bastard from the start and I’m real sorry that I didn’t fuckin’ believe you, Joel.”

Joel’s mind begins to race.

What had prompted you to finally tell Tommy and Maria about the abuse? Did something happen to you that he didn’t know about?

Ellie had been pretty good about keeping him posted. He would ask her about you the very minute she’d walk through the front door after her shift at the stables and she would provide him a full report.

“She’s fine. She ain’t hurt,” Tommy reassures him, as if he’d read his mind. “We’re plannin’ on movin’ her outta the house later on tonight.”

“What?” Finally, Joel speaks, his voice rigid.

Tommy holds his hands up in defense. “Now, hold on. I need you to give me a minute and let me explain—”

“She told you Luke’s been abusin’ her and you just let her go back to him? Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me? Why didn’t you and Maria fuckin’ stop her?”

“Why didn’t you fuckin’ stop her the night you saw the bruise on her?” He shoots back at him.

Joel stares at him, his lips parting slightly.

How did he fucking know about that?

“She told us the truth ‘bout the affair too, Joel.”

“She did?”

“She did,” Tommy confirms with a nod. “I had a hunch, y’know. The day of the ambush, I thought I saw panic in her eyes when I told Ellie you’d been shot. Then I saw it again when she saw you there sittin’ on that table with a bullet in your shoulder, but I brushed it off. Thought she was just real worried ‘bout the kid seein’ as those two are thick as fuckin’ thieves, y’know?” Despite the serious nature of the conversation, he can’t help but let out a chuckle when he thinks of you and Ellie. “But now I know she was scared of losin’ you. That girl loves you, Joel. I know you love her too. I’m willin’ to bet it’s the reason you let her walk away that night. Why you kept her secret.”

“Jesus.” Joel exhales a shaky breath. “Y’must think I’m a real fuckin’ coward for knowin’ what he’s been doin’ to her and not doin’ a goddamn thing ‘bout it, huh?”

Tommy shakes his head.

“It’s a complicated situation, brother. She only did what she did for the good of the community. She’s still trying to do what’s best for Jackson, believe it or not. She, uh, she wants us to let Luke stay.”

“She wants you to let him stay?”

“Girl’s got too big of a heart. Doesn’t want the town to be without a doctor.”

“Ain’t no goddamn way you’d let him stay! After all the fuckin’ shit he’s done to her?” When his brother doesn’t respond, Joel narrows his eyes at him. “Jesus Christ. You can’t fuckin’ tell me you’re actually considerin’ it? Are you fuckin’ serious, Tommy? You and Maria would let that son of a bitch stay in Jackson? Knowin’ he’s spent two fuckin’ years puttin’ his hands on his wife?”

“Look here, alright? I don’t like the idea as much as you don’t, and neither does Maria,” he says. “But this ain’t exactly black and white, Joel. I really fuckin’ wish it was. But the hard truth is that Jackson does need a doctor, and unless one magically falls out of the fuckin’ sky, we ain’t got much of a choice here. My wife and child, they might need him, y’know? Maria’s considered a high risk ‘cause of her age. If somethin’ happens and there’s complications when she’s in labor, she and the baby are gonna need him. Our nurses, they ain’t really trained to handle things like that, y’know?”

Joel’s lips press together into a tight, thin line.

Of course it’s black and white to him—because he loves you. You’re his fucking priority. There’s no gray area for him. None.

But Tommy? His priority is Maria and their unborn child.

Joel can’t fault him for that, and he certainly isn’t going to try. But what about you?

“Listen, Joel. I know this is real fuckin’ hard, believe me I do. I care about that girl a lot, a whole fuckin’ lot. I saw her as family long before I knew ‘bout your relationship with her and before I knew she was—”

He stops abruptly, red splotching his cheeks.

Joel still doesn’t know he is going to be a father. Again.

“Before you knew she was what, Tommy?”

“Tommy!” A woman’s voice shouts. “Joel! Over here!”

The two brothers glance over their shoulders and see the rest of their morning patrol group heading towards them.

Tommy bites back a sigh of utter relief. That had been too fucking close.

He turns to Joel, lowering his voice. “Joel, I need you to listen, and listen to me real good. We’ve gotta take this one step at a time. First thing’s first, me and Maria are gonna get her outta that house. She can stay with us at our place for a while. She’ll be safe with us. That much I can promise you.”

“Then what?”

“Don’t know yet. We get her out first and then we figure things out from there. In the meantime, I’m gonna need you to stay calm, Joel. Please. Don’t go off and do somethin’ stupid, alright?”

That had been a lot easier said than done.

Joel needed to talk to you.

He needed to fucking see you.

But his brother had been adamant.

“Don’t fuckin’ get involved, Joel. Not ‘til we get her out. I don’t want things to fuckin’ explode in our faces, alright? Let me handle this.”

Letting out a heavy sigh, Joel leans back into the couch and looks down at the guitar in his lap—he’d just spent the last hour carefully polishing it in an effort to keep himself occupied. He thought back to that night you’d come over to gift it to him, how he had kissed you for the first time mere hours before you showed up on his doorstep with your father’s Gibson.

As he gives the guitar a gentle test strum, he recalls the request you made for him to sing you a song and a dull ache settles in his chest, right over his heart. He’ll sing you every song you want to hear, if given the chance.

Part of him is optimistic that he would get the chance.

You were meant to be his. He was meant to be yours.

He just fucking knows it.

Joel’s train of thought is shattered by the sound of the front door opening, and then loudly slamming shut.

“Ellie?” He calls out.

Her voice comes from the hallway. “Yeah?”

“C’mere, kiddo.”

Ellie grumbles incoherently as she walks into the living room, hair disheveled, clothes filthy, and her sneakers caked with muck from the stables.

Joel frowns at her. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Today was just really fucking shitty and while that was a great pun, for once, it was not fucking intended,” she sighs, crossing her arms over her chest. “If you called me in here to ask me about her, I’d save my breath. She stayed home today. She’s sick.”

Joel’s stomach instantly drops. “She’s sick?”

“Yeah. With like a really bad cold or something.”

Putting down the guitar, he questions, “And who told you that?”

“Dina,” Ellie replies, looking puzzled. “She said Luke told her—” She stops abruptly as he jumps to his feet and immediately shoves past her, heading towards the front door. She spins around on her heel, following him. As he flies down the porch and starts down the road towards your house, she is forced to jog along beside him just to keep up with his stride. “What, what? What is it? Fucking answer me, Joel, what is it?”

“She ain’t fuckin’ sick, Ellie.”

“What do you mean she’s not—oh fuck. You don’t think she’s hiding out at home because—?” Ellie’s heartbeat stutters when the realization sinks in. “Luke.”

When the pair arrive at your place, they find a very, very distraught Maria Miller standing on the front porch, her hands wrapped around the doorknob. “Hon, I need you to let me in!” She turns and pulls the knob, desperately. “Please! Open the door for me!”

Your tearful voice comes from the other side. “Go away, Maria!”

The sound of Joel’s boots prompt Maria to turn around. “Joel,” she breathes out his name in relief. “I can’t get her to open the door. Tommy went to see if we have a spare key for the unit. He hasn’t come back and I don’t know what to do.”

“Break a fucking window, maybe?” Ellie snaps at her.

Joel silences her with a glare and then takes Maria by her arms, moving her to stand behind him. “Open the goddamn door!” he commands firmly, pounding his fist harshly against the wood. He can almost feel the way you freeze on the other side the moment you hear the sound of his voice. “Open this fuckin’ door right now!”

Ellie chimes in, “Come on, please open the door!”

“Go away!”

Joel continues to beat his fists against the door. “Show me what he fuckin’ did to you!” He shouts as he drops his hands to the doorknob, clawing at it as if somehow that’s going to do the trick and open the door. “C’mon! Show me what that fuckin’ bastard did to you!”

“Please, go away, all of you! Just leave me alone!”

“You know we can’t do that,” Maria calls. “You’re going to have to open this door and let us—”

Losing what very little patience he has to begin with in the first place, Joel cuts her off. “I will fuckin’ break this door down if I have to,” he threatens. “I’ll cause a scene and let everyone in this whole fuckin’ town know what Luke does to you. Is that what you want?”

He hears the lock click almost instantly.

Finally, you crack the door open and peek out to show them your face. “There, you fucking see?” Your face is blotchy, your eyes red and swollen from crying. “I’m fucking fine! Now fucking go away!”

You try shutting the door, but Joel is too quick and slips the toe of his boot in, wedging it between the door and the doorframe.

“Move, Joel!”

“Nope,” he says, keeping it planted firmly in place.

Not wanting to break his foot, you let up and he shoves his way inside with Ellie and Maria trailing behind him.

Taking a clumsy step backwards, you gather up the front of your knitted cardigan in your trembling hands, bunching it around your neck to conceal it. “Get out! Please, just get out!” you beg them through your sobs. “Please leave! I’m fine! Look at me, I’m perfectly fine—”

Heart hammering painfully against his sternum, Joel walks over and he takes your wrists. “Let me see. Baby, please. Just let me see.” His voice is raw, thick, as if he were on the verge of tears himself. He just knows he’s failed you, failed to keep all those promises he had made about never letting anything bad happen to you. He’s fucking failed. Again. He tries to find your gaze, but you refuse to look him in the eye. “Let me see,” he chokes out again, the warmth of his skin a stark contrast against the iciness of your own. “I’ll force you if I have to, so please just show me. Please, just fuckin’ show me what he did to you.”

Letting out another agonized sob, you drop your hands and let go of the material, letting it fall back into place at your sides and exposing your injury.

Maria gasps into her hands. “God.”

“Fuck.” Ellie’s eyes widen in complete horror.

Joel drops your wrists, taking a step backwards as his eyes glaze over the severe discoloration around your neck.

He feels fucking sick to his stomach, but it isn’t until he notices the clear imprint of a square belt buckle on the column of your throat that Joel thinks he might actually be sick all over the floor.

“What the hell is going on in here?”

Luke’s voice suddenly echoes through the foyer. He stands near the front door, looking thoroughly confused—that is, until he sees you standing there, exposing what he had done to you the night before with his belt. The very same belt he’s wearing now.

No one has the chance to speak.

No one has the chance to think.

No one even has the chance to breathe.

Joel charges at Luke. He roughly snatches the collar of his jacket and pulls him further into the foyer of the house, away from the open front door so that he has nowhere to run.

You rush towards them. “Joel, stop! No!”

Maria quickly hurries to stop you, grabbing you by the back of your sweater. She yanks you back and out of harm’s way. “Don’t!”

Horrified, you watch as Joel slams Luke straight into the mirror hanging on the wall—head first. He pulls him forward, then slams him back even harder, the impact completely shattering the glass. Hundreds of shards go flying across the hardwood floor.

“Oh shit! Watch out!” Ellie jumps back as a sharp piece of broken glass lands between her sneakers.

“Joel, stop it! Please, stop!” you cry out as Maria grasps your arm to keep you from jumping in the middle of the altercation. “Stop it!”

But Joel is too far gone. Ignoring your desperate cries, he wraps one hand around Luke’s neck, holding him in place. His other hand curls into a tight fist and he starts delivering bone shattering blow after bone shattering blow to his face. “You wanna fuckin’ hit someone?” He snarls as the man’s nose cracks beneath his knuckles. “You wanna fuckin’ put your hands on someone? Huh? Then you fuckin’ put ‘em on me! C’mon, I fuckin’ dare you to put ‘em on me!”

Throwing Luke onto the floor, Joel climbs on top of him and he secures both of his hands around his throat. He feels the uncontrollable urge to do to him what he had done to you—only, unlike Luke, he doesn’t need a belt, and unlike Luke, he isn’t going to stop.

He isn’t going to let him live.

Joel squeezes Luke’s neck, cutting off his oxygen.

“How do you fuckin’ like it,” he hisses, irises going from brown to black as he presses harder on his windpipe. “C’mon, tough guy, tell me how you fuckin’ like it.”

Luke feebly claws and scratches at his hands, gurgling as blood starts coming out of his nose and mouth.

“Joel! Stop!” Tommy rushes into the house, his boots scraping against the floor as he skids to halt. Without hesitating, he jumps into action. “Joel, stop! Fuckin’ let him go! Let him go!” He reaches down to pull him off.

“Look at what he did to her! Fuckin’ look at her!”

Tommy turns his attention to you, and the color drains from his face. “Jesus Christ,” he breathes out, shocked by the mark around your neck. He has half a mind to step back and allow Joel to finish the job, but with you, Ellie, and Maria watching on in terror, Tommy doesn’t have a choice. He grabs fistfuls of Joel’s denim shirt and tries to tug him off the man he’s about to kill. “Fuckin’ let him go, Joel! Right now! That’s an order!”

Luke’s attempts to fight him off grow weaker. His face is beaten beyond recognition, and there’s a pool of dark red growing under him, dripping from a deep laceration he’d sustained from the being slammed head first into the mirror. His hands fall from around Joel’s wrists. He’s close to losing complete consciousness.

“Joel, let him go!” Tommy bellows. “Now!”

“Tommy, be careful!” Maria warns him, worriedly.

Somehow, he finally manages to peel Joel off Luke. He shoves him up against the nearest wall, pinning him in place. Behind him, Luke coughs and sputters violently, gasping as he frantically tries to breathe some air back into his lungs.

“Fuckin’ let go of me!” Joel growls, his eyes wild as he drives his fists into Tommy’s chest. “I’ll fuckin’ kill him! Let me fuckin’ go!”

Tommy cups Joel’s face in his hands and tries to meet his gaze. “Hey, look at me, I need you to calm the fuck down—I said fuckin’ look at me, Joel!” He demands. “I need you to calm the fuck down. I know that he fuckin’ deserves it, alright? Trust me, it’s takin’ all the strength I’ve got in me not to fuckin’ let go, let you kill the son of a bitch. Hell, there’s a part of me that wants to help you fuckin’ do it! But it ain’t the way we handle things here. M’gonna need you to take a breath and calm down, big brother. If anythin’, just do it for her sake, alright?”

Joel’s chest heaves, his breaths rough and ragged as his eyes flicker over to you. His heart sinks at the sight of you sobbing uncontrollably in Ellie and Maria’s arms.

Groaning, Luke rolls over onto his stomach and spits a mouthful of blood into the floor. “You can fucking have her,” he rasps, looking up at Joel through swollen eyes. “Keep her. Keep the useless little whore.”

Blinded by white hot rage, Joel starts thrashing around in Tommy’s grasp and tries to break loose. “Fuckin’ call her that again you fuckin’ son of a bitch—”

“Shit.” Dropping her arms from around you, Ellie steps forward, standing protectively in front of both you and Maria.

“Get the fuck off me, Tommy! M’gonna fuckin’ kill him!”

Maria tucks your face into her shoulder. “Don’t watch.”

“Joel, fuckin’ stop it already!” Tommy struggles to keep him in place. “You’re scarin’ her half to death!”

“I don’t fuckin’ care—”

Tommy’s fingers curl around the collar of his shirt. He slams Joel back against the wall so hard, the mirror, or at least what’s left of it, falls. The square frame breaks in half when it hits the floor.

“Well, you should fuckin’ care! She’s pregnant, Joel.”

You lift your head from Maria’s shoulder. “Tommy.”

Ellie spins around on her heel to face you. She stares at you with wide, round eyes. “You’re fucking pregnant?”

Joel looks over at you. Just as shocked, if not more.

“What?”

Tommy grabs his chin, forcing his older brother to look at him once more. “It’s true,” he murmurs quietly. “So please, just take a goddamn breath and calm the fuck down. For her sake—and for the sake of your child.” He releases Joel’s shirt and takes a careful step backwards towards Luke, who is still groaning in pain on the floor. Once he realizes Joel isn’t going to charge him again, Tommy turns around and grabs the injured man by the lapels of his jacket, pulling him up to his feet in a rough, careless manner. “Get the fuck up,” he says. He drags him towards the door. “C’mon, let’s go.”

“Tommy? Where are you taking him?” Maria questions him.

“Town jail. M’gonna throw his sorry ass in a fuckin’ cell and leave him in there ‘til we figure out what to do with him.” He glances over his shoulder. “I’ll get the council together for an emergency meetin’ tonight.”

“Jesus,” Ellie mutters under her breath as soon as they disappear. “Did this really just fucking happen?”

Chest still heaving, Joel glances down at his bloodied, torn knuckles and then turns to you, his eyes meeting yours. The tension between the two of you is almost palpable.

Maria lightly clears her throat. “We should probably get out of here,” she suggests. “Let’s head on over to mine and Tommy’s while we wait for him to get back.”

“Are you cold?” Ellie asks, worriedly.

She holds up a blue fleece throw blanket she’d dug out from the hallway closet despite you warning her not to snoop around the house while Maria’s in the bathroom tending to Joel’s hand.

Shaking your head, you sigh, “I’m fine.”

“But it’s cold in here.” She drapes the blanket over your hunched shoulders. “Can I get you something? Water? Are you hungry? You should probably eat something—”

“Ellie, please stop with all the fussing.” You pat the spot on the couch beside you. “Just sit here with me. That’s all I need right now.”

Nodding, she sits down and angles herself toward you, getting a closer look at the wound you’d been left with.

“Shit,” Ellie mutters under her breath. Grimacing, she lifts a hand and gingerly presses her fingertips to your neck in disbelief. “Fuck, dude. How bad does it hurt?” She touches a particularly sore spot on the column of your throat and you hiss in pain. She retracts her hand and sputters an apology, “Fuck, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

Wincing, you assure her, “It’s fine. It’s just a little tender right now, that’s all.”

“A little?” she scoffs.

“Okay, maybe more than a little,” you admit.

Ellie observes you for a moment. “Are you okay?”

“It’ll heal, Ellie. It looks worse than it really is.”

“No, I mean—” Pausing, Ellie moves her hand, placing it on your stomach. “Is the baby okay?”

You glance down at yourself, almost as if you expected to see something different about yourself, but then you remember you’re only about six weeks along and there is nothing to see, no significant changes to your body. Perhaps it’s the reason why there’s a part of you having a hard time grasping that Ellie’s asking if the baby was okay. If your baby is okay.

After a minute, you nod. “Yeah, I think so,” you reply softly, putting a hand over hers.

Relieved, Ellie flashes you a small smile. “Good.”

“How are you two doing in here?” Maria appears in the living room with Joel trailing behind her. His right hand is wrapped up in a white bandage.

“We’re okay.” Ellie glances at Joel. “You okay?”

He gives a quick, subtle nod of his head. “M’fine.”

“We can take her home now, right?” When Ellie doesn’t ge the immediate response she’s seeking, she shoots him a tiny little glare. “She’s coming home with us, isn’t she? I mean, she fucking has to come home with us.”

He still doesn’t answer her question.

All Joel can do is stare at you, jaw clenched and his lips pressed into a tight, thin line.

“Hey, Ellie, how about we go into the kitchen and make some tea?” Maria beckons to her with her hand.

She snorts. “Seriously? Who the hell wants fucking tea after that fucking shitshow—”

Maria pins her with an exasperated glare. “Ellie.”

“Oh shit, okay. I get it now,” Ellie quickly realizes it’s simply an excuse for the two of them to leave the room. Dropping her hand away from your stomach, she jumps up to her feet and wraps her arms around you. Her hug is brief, but full of warmth and reassurance, as if she’s silently telling you everything’s going to be alright. She releases you and follows Maria to the kitchen, leaving you and Joel alone.

Nervously, you stand up, your knees wobbling.

You feel torn—torn between wanting to run over to him and jump into his arms, and wanting to run away in the opposite direction to find somewhere to bury your head in shame. You’d promised him he had nothing to worry about, swore to him you couldn’t bear a child, and now here you were, carrying his and putting a responsibility on his shoulders he didn’t ask for. A responsibility that, surely, he doesn’t want.

On top of everything else he’d been through with you.

No, because of you. And now this?

Somehow, you muster up enough courage to speak.

“Joel,” you squeak his name. “Say something.”

“You sure you’re pregnant?” He asks, quietly. He stands across the room, making no move to come closer.

Swallowing harshly, you nod. “I’m sure.”

“How long have you known?”

“I only just found out yesterday,” you swear.

“And Tommy and Maria fuckin’ knew before me?”

It’s hard to tell if he’s angry or if he’s disappointed—not that either was a better option than the other.

“I was here with them yesterday in the afternoon. I got sick out of nowhere. Maria’s the one who suspected it and suggested I take a pregnancy test when I realized I haven’t had my period since August. After the first time that you and I—well, you know.” Shifting from one foot to the other, you continue to explain, “It never even fucking crossed my mind, Joel. I didn’t notice anything. I didn’t notice the symptoms. Missing my period, the dizziness, and the nausea. I was so busy trying to keep myself from fucking falling apart without you that it all went right over my head.”

Joel’s harsh expression suddenly softens.

“I took the test. When the results turned out positive, I just lost it. I fucking lost it, and I told Tommy and Maria everything because I was scared.” Your voice breaks, and a tear slips out from the corner of your eye, rolling down the side of your face. Several more threaten to follow, but you blink them back. “They offered to help me, Joel. They wanted to get me out of the house last night, but I was too fucking stubborn. I didn’t listen to them. I thought I’d be fine for one more night, but when Luke came home, he wanted to be intimate with me.”

Joel sucks in a sharp breath. His anger boils in his veins all over again. “And did he—he touch you like that?”

“No, of course not. I didn’t let him. I couldn’t let him. I told him not to touch me and I pushed him away.”

“Then what happened?”

“I told him that it was over. That our marriage was over and I was leaving. That’s when he took off his belt and he—” Gesturing to your throat, you start sobbing again as images of the night before flood your mind.

Luke had done pretty horrific things to you before, but this?

This had been the worst of them. He almost killed you.

“Baby.” Joel rushes over to you and pulls you right into his arms. “Shh, darlin’. S’alright,” he soothes. “S’alright, you’re safe now. I’ve got you.”

Whimpering, you met into his touch, the very touch you have been missing with every fiber of your being. “I’m so sorry, Joel,” you croak into his chest. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

He pulls away slightly, peering down at you. “Sorry? For what?” Without even giving you the chance to answer, he assures you, “There ain’t nothin’ for you to apologize for, sweet girl. Alright?”

You let out a tearful scoff. “Joel, I’m pregnant. And it’s fucking yours,” you remind him, the guilt in your tone loud and clear. “Don’t you remember how worried you were about it? And how I told you that you had nothing to be concerned about?”

“Don’t put it all on yourself, peach.”

You almost smile.

Oh, how you’ve missed hearing him call you that.

“Look, this is on me too, baby. Part of me knew there was still a possibility, but I didn’t care. All I cared ‘bout was makin’ you mine every fuckin’ chance I got.” Joel’s hand cups the side of your face. He chuckles nervously and says, “Y’know, at one point, I kinda thought I was at the age where I’m shootin’ blanks more than anythin’ else. Guess we were both wrong, huh?”

“Joel—”

He cuts you off. “And if you’re worried I’m upset ‘bout you bein’ pregnant, you’re wrong ‘bout that too, darlin’.”

Surprised, you blurt, “You mean, you want the baby?”

Now it's his turn to be taken aback.

“Y’thought I wouldn’t want it?”

“Yeah,” you confess, sheepishly. “I thought you would be mad about this, if I’m being honest, Joel. I wasn’t sure if you’d even want anything to do with it.” Noticing he’d taken some offense to the notion that he wouldn’t want his own child, you exhale a small sigh and place a hand on his chest. “Come on, Joel, can you honestly blame me? When you were the one who was so damn worried about me getting knocked up in the first place? Wouldn’t you have thought the same if you were me?”

He grazes your cheek with his thumb. “Can’t lie to you, sweetheart. I probably would have.” Letting his hand fall away from your face, Joel takes a seat on the couch and pulls you down onto his lap. “Sure as hell wasn’t in my plans to have another kid in my fuckin’ fifties. But y’know, the idea of having a little one runnin’ around, it ain’t all that fuckin’ bad.” He pauses, adding with a faint grin, “‘Specially if he or she happens to look like you.”

Relieved, you lean into his chest, shoulders sagging in exhaustion.

“You alright?” Joel murmurs, pressing a kiss into your hair.

Burying your face into his neck, you breathe him in. “I am now that I’m with you,” you confess as he wraps his arms around you, holding you tighter than he ever has before.

“M’gonna take real good care of you, darlin’. Both of you,” Joel reassures you, softly. “Nothin’s gonna hurt you, baby. S’long as you’re with me, nothin’ or no one is ever gonna hurt you ever again. Swear it on my life.”

#fic: a safe haven #fic: ash #joel miller series #Joel Miller angst #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #tw: dv #tw: domestic violence #tw: pregnancy

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emmyrosee · 7 months

Text

You’re completely out of reality today.

Rintaro’s flight is delayed until who knows what time, the twins brewing in your uterus are obliterating your back and bladder, and the love of your life Kaiya is intent on making your life a project today. With Akito staying at a friends house for a project, it truly is just you at the mercy of 1.8 kids.

You’ve danced the pregnant dance for nine years by now, but this is the first time in a long time you’re just about ready to break down into tears. You don’t know if it’s because you’re exhausted, your hormones are off the chart, or if you’re just so done with being pregnant for the past 8 months that the baby bump you usually adore is just becoming too much to keep.

You feel so sore, so gross from the sweat and other bodily fluid changes that come with twins. Nothing that any pamphlet, and doctor, even the Miya twin’s poor mother taking the time to call you and talk to you about it wasn’t anything to hold a candle to the exhaustion you’re feeling.

Eventually, it must boil over. And you do so without even knowing it, brushing Kaiya’s hair after a bath.

“Why you cryin’, mumma?”

“Huh?” Your hand stills softly, just clutching the hairbrush in your hand.

She turns around to face you, her small hand slowly reaching up to touch your wet cheek, and when you feel the warmth of her hand against your cool tear tracks, you’re quick to sniffle and move to wipe them away. “I’m sorry baby, mommy’s just feeling yucky today.”

Okay. Not what you meant to confess to your little three year old, but immediately, her eyes widen and she moves to crawl on your lap. You pick her up and plop her on your thigh, cradling her and trying your damndest to not wail right there.

“Mumma bootiful, mumma.”

Again, you freeze. You pull away slightly, fat tears rolling down your cheeks with fervor this time. “What…?”

“Mumma bootiful!”

“Mumma’s beautiful?”

“Yeah!”

Your lip wobbles and you tug her closer, “my baby… what did I do to deserve you? My cutie Kaiya.” You give her a flurry of kisses on her cheeks, and it has her giggling in joy.

“Mumma give kisses!”

“Mumma will always give you kisses,” you promise. You plant a few more to her temple, only stopping to take a few minutes to sniff her clean hair, rub her soft cheeks, and enjoy the silence of just you and your little girl.

A sudden kick to your side has you snapped from your daze, and Kaiya gasps excitedly.

“Which baby’s kickin, mumma?” She asks, and you ponder the thought for a minute. “Sachie or Sachiko?”

You think on it, then plant a kiss to her nose, “I think it’s Sachie; I think she’s got daddy’s sassiness, don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” agrees, and with one more kiss to her temple, you nudge her softly to get up.

“Come on, stink. Let’s watch a movie before daddy comes home to ruin the fun.” At your words, she giggles and gets up, bouncing down the halls and leaving you to quickly clean the bathroom.

With a small bowl of veggies and a Disney movie playing on the tv, you pull a blanket over you both and let the calmness of Encanto bring you to a state of being half asleep; You’re not entirely sure when Rintaro finally does come home, but there’s a new movie playing, and Kaiya leaps off the couch excitedly.

“Daddy!”

You hear bags drop and your eyes open exhaustedly in an attempt to greet him, but the heaviness in them lingers as you try to keep them open. You hear Rintaro shushing Kaiya softly, followed by a few plants of wet kisses on her cheek. There’s murmurs of conversation, and you hear Rintaro’s steps coming closer as you stretch. “Hey babydoll; stay comfy, I’ll come get you in a bit.”

“Gotta get the chicken for tomorrow…”

“Huh?”

Kaiya giggles, “mumma still sleeping.”

“Guess so,” he chuckles. He plants a kiss to your head, mumbles to Kaiya to do the same, and your mind is so buried in its exhaustion to process even getting up to greet your man. “Come on Kaiya. Let’s get you to bed.”

“Okay daddy!”

There’s no footsteps that you can process, but you do hear one final thing that has you curling into the warmth of your blanket in search of his embrace.

“Mommy really is beautiful, isn’t she stink?”

“Mumma’s bootiful!”

—-

If my life ain’t this ion want it

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russo-woso · 15 days

Note

Could you do a fic with lessi where the reader is pregnant and they find out during the delivery that they having twins. Maybe some angst during the delivery like r blaming Alessia. And them not being able to tell the twins apart and lessi keeps getting them confused. You could include like team interactions with the twins and them making fun of alessia for not being able to tell them apart. 🙏

Twins || Alessia Russo

Warning pregnancy, giving birth, ‘I’m such a bad mum’, fluff (lots of it)

It had been a long nine months to say the least.

The last nine months were the hardest nine months of your life.

Being pregnant came with its highs and its lows.

One of the biggest highs, was that you and lessi were finally starting a family. Something that you had both dreamed of since you were seventeen.

However, after going through the long process of IVF and it working, you entered the first trimester and the morning sickness kicked in, the constant tiredness started, the hot flushes occurred.

But the thought of your baby on the way, and Alessia being there every step of the way, made it so much easier for you.

Although, as soon as you entered the later months of your pregnancy, and the kicking started, you had immediately told your wife that you were never going to be pregnant again.

Every minute of every night and day, it was non stop kicking.

You blamed it on Alessia. After all, the baby had her genes, and she was the footballer.

And so when your water broke on a cold December night, you couldn’t have been happier.

You were going to meet your baby, and you weren’t going to be pregnant anymore.

After Alessia running round making sure you had packed everything, you finally made it to the hospital.

As you laid in the hospital bed, Less sat to your right, your breath hitching every time a contraction hit.

Alessia was so good though, constantly whispering how well you were doing and how she was so thankful that you were going through this so you could extend your family.

The midwife came in to check how dilated you were but when she noticed the sudden increase of the baby’s heart rate, she brought the scan machine in to check the little one via a scan.

Alessia took a hold of your hand, treasuring this last scan before you saw your baby face to face.

“I can’t wait to meet our baby.” You told less as the picture appeared on the small screen.

You turned back to face it and noticed the midwife’s eye widen in shock and confusion.

“What? Is everything okay?” Alessia asked, also noticing her change in emotion.

“You do realise there’s two?” She asked back, waiting for an answer.

You just stared at Alessia, not knowing what to do.

“Two what?” Alessia questioned, the realisation not settling in.

“Two babies. You’re having twins.” The midwife explained and you swear you could’ve fainted in that moment.

“No, that can’t be right. We’ve been told throughout the whole pregnancy that it’s only one baby.” Alessia said to the midwife but the midwife pointed to the screen, two babies clearly visible.

“Twin B has been hiding at the back all along.” She pointed out, and you freaked out, worry and dread filling your body, tears spilling out of your eyes.

“Hey, baby, it’s okay. We’re gonna have two babies. Double the amount of love. It’s gonna be hectic but it’s another baby that we get to love.” Alessia said, claiming you down as she enveloped you into a gentle hug. “You’re gonna be such a good mama, you know that, right? You already are.”

“Now due to us only founding out it’s twin now, you will still have to go ahead with a natural birth, however, we’ll give you extra drugs and pain medication to lower the pain.” She explained and you nodded your head, dread filling your mind once again at the thought of pushing two babies out of you.

The midwife left the room, leaving you and less to have to some privacy as you discussed the unexpected twist.

She returned again to actually check how dilated you were, and it turned out that you were eight centimetres dilated so it was only about an hour left.

“Baby, do you think you could get some sleep for me?” Alessia asked, purely thinking of you and how tired you must be feeling.

“Cuddle.” You murmured, your eyes already drooping as Alessia laid down in the bed next to you, her hands instinctively landing on your bump.

As soon as your head landed on her shoulder, you were gone.

Once you had awoken, you felt a build up of pressure in your lower abdomen, which could only mean one thing. It was time.

You told Alessia and she went and grabbed the midwife.

“You ready?” She asked once she had gotten you into position. You nodded back in response, sending a weary nod.

————————

“This is all your fault, Alessia.” You told her through gritted teeth.

Alessia didn’t even deny it. She couldn’t.

You had carried her two babies, and were now delivering them into the world, the least she could do was let your anger out on her.

“Keep going. Keep going. Good job. The heads out now.” The midwife told you, and you let out a sigh of relief, knowing that your first baby was nearly here.

“You’re doing so well, baby. One more push and one of our babies will be here.” Alessia encouraged you, stroking the loose hairs out of your face.

Your face scrunched up, the pain taking over your body, but left as soon as newborn cries filled the room.

“Mum, would you like to come and cut the cord?” The midwife asked Alessia, who nodded straight away.

“A girl, Y/N. We’ve got a baby girl.” Alessia’s voice cracked as she set eyes on your baby girl. “She’s perfect, baby.”

The doctors and nurses took her to be checked over, and Alessia found her spot next to you.

“I have to do it all again because of you.” You told Alessia, rolling your eyes at her.

“I know, love, but it’ll all be over soon and we’ll have two babies.” Alessia pressed a kiss to your sweaty forehead as you began pushing once again.

“Fuck, less, I hate you right now.” You managed to get out.

All Alessia could do was smile at you.

She couldn’t have been more in love with you than in that moment.

She was so amazed that you had not only carried two babies but had also gone through the agonising process of delivering them.

With one final push, an identical cry filled the room.

“They’re here, love. Both of them are here.” Alessia cried, kissing your temple, before walking over to cut the cord of Twin B. “Another girl, twin girls.”

“Girls?” You asked, exhausted from giving birth.

“Two baby girls.” Alessia confirmed as the nurses wrapped them in blankets.

“Both of them are perfect. Two sets of ten fingers and ten toes.” The midwife smiled at you as both girls were placed on your chest.

“They’re perfect, lessi.” You sobbed, as you looked down at your baby girls.

Tears ran down yours and Alessia’s faces as you stared in awe at the tiny humans you had both created.

————————

“I can’t wait for the team to meet them. They’re gonna be so shocked when they see both Ava and Mila.” Alessia said as she put both girls in their car seats, pressing light kisses to their noses which scrunched up in reaction.

“They still have no idea?” You asked, resting a hand on Alessia’s back as she crouched down buckling Mila’s car seat.

“No idea at all. I haven’t even told Ella.” Alessia told you, leaning back up picking up a car seat. “I’ve got Mila, no Ava, wait, no I’ve got Mila.”

“Lessi, you’ve got Ava.” You corrected her as less’ face was covered in confusion.

“I’m such a bad mummy. I can’t even get their names right.” Less buried her head in your neck as you brought her in for a hug.

“Love, you’re not. Don’t ever think you are. It’s confusing. I get it wrong too sometimes. They’re identical twins and they’re babies. You know, your mum suggested we write their initials on their hands. We’ll do that when we get to camp.” You told her and she nodded, agreeing with the idea. “Come on then, baby. Let’s get you to England camp.”

————————

After stopping at three services to breastfeed, you eventually made it to St George’s Park.

At first, Alessia had turned down the offer to be at camp for the week purely to be with you and your girls, especially since they weren’t even a week old yet.

But when you found out, you weren’t having it.

She loved her time at England camp and so you compromised and offered to go with.

Alessia spoke to Sarina and Sarina said it was a pleasure for you and the baby, babies, to be there.

On the way there, you and Less had planned it that you would wait outside with one of the twins whilst Alessia walked in with the other.

Hopefully, the team would see Alessia, gathering round to see the newest member of your family.

Then, you would walk in and the plot twist would be revealed.

And that’s exactly how it went.

Alessia walked in, Tooney spotting her first, immediately gathering round to meet her newest niece.

Less set the car seat down and the girls gathered round, staring in awe at the newborn baby fast asleep in a milk coma.

Alessia couldn’t help but shed a tear at the sight of all her best friends connecting with her baby girl.

“What’s her name?” Lucy asked, looking down at the baby.

“So we had two names in mind that we loved throughout the whole pregnancy. We loved them so much that we couldn’t decide between them.” Alessia began as you quietly entered the room with Mila.

“Which turned out really well because we actually got to use both names.” You continued, the team still looking at Ava, unaware of Mila who was in the other car seat.

“It turned out well because unaware to us, we weren’t just having one baby girl.” Alessia said and the team sent her a weird look.

“Instead, we had two.” You spoke up again. This time, the girls looked up at you and gasped once they saw the second car seat.

“Oh my god. Twins?” One of the girls questioned as they all ran towards you, turning silent, scared to speak or make a sound.

You looked up at Alessia who had a massive smile on her face.

“You knew you were having twins and didn’t tell me?” Ella asked you and Alessia and you laughed, knowing the answer was going to sound crazy.

“We didn’t know we were having twins. We only found out an hour before I gave birth.” You told her and Alessia explained the rest of the story.

The team gathered round in the relaxation room, taking it in turns holding the girls.

“So, what are their names?” Lucy piped up again, realising that you never told them in the end.

“The one Kiera’s got is Mila and Niamh’s got Ava. Wait, no, other way round. Actually, what?” Alessia questioned herself, embarrassed that she cousins even name her own babies. “Yes, Kiera’s got Mila and Niamh’s got Ava.”

“Baby, other way round.” You told her and Alessia face palmed herself, sighing in annoyance.

“Awe, can your mummy not tell you apart?” Niamh cooed at Mila, winding Less up.

“Niamh.” You warned, seeing Alessia get worked up. “Baby? Can I talk to you outside?” You asked her, taking her hands in yours as you led her outside.

As soon as you shut the door, Alessia started sobbing.

“That’s like the eighth time I’ve done it. I feel so bad that I can’t even get their names right. I’m such a bad mum.” Alessia shared with you, in between sobs.

“Hey, hey, calm down, baby. It’s okay. They’re only five days old, we haven’t had time to get to know them yet. That’s the hard bit about having twins. As they get older, they’ll have their differences. It’s just because they’re still young.” You told her as you continued to hug her.

You broke apart from the hug and pressed your lips on hers.

As you did, a small cry was heard from within the relaxation room.

“That’s Ava, you go sit down and I’ll grab her.” Alessia told you and you smiled at her.

“How do you know it’s Ava?” You asked her, confused as you weren’t in the room to know.

“Her cry is higher pitched compared to Mila’s.” Alessia explained to you and you simple smiled at her, knowing she had proved herself wrong.

“See, you knew that was Ava. I didn’t know that was Ava. At a guess, I would have said it was Mila.” You said, rubbing your hand up and down Alessia’s arm.

“Thank you, Y/N. Thank you for always being there for me, thank you for giving me our two girls, thank you for everything.” Alessia stated, kissing your lips.

“Thank you, lessi.”

“Guys, stop kissing and come and get your daughter!” You heard Mary shout and you laughed before going back into the room.

“Come on, Mila.” Alessia cooed, picking her up and resting her in her arms. The baby girl immediately calming down by her mummy’s touch.

“Babe, that’s Ava.” You said and Alessia face dropped. She was so confident and 99% sure that it was Mila. “I’m joking, love. Sorry, I just had to do it.”

“I hate you right now.” Alessia mumbled, not wanting to wake up Mila.

“Hmm, that sounds familiar but at least we’re even now.”

#woso community #woso x reader #woso #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso fanfics #womens football #alessia russo #alessia russo x reader

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gh0stlyfixation · 1 year

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5 reasons you’ve cried while pregnant

John Price addition

Simon Riley addition here

Johnny “Soap” McTavish

1. You were very emotional as it was, but now? Four months pregnant it was a rollercoaster ride. Man, what John would do to avoid those tears, you want a cheeseburger from across town and that lemonade only the gas station in the other town had? He’ll get it. But sometimes things can’t be avoided.

You walk in with your shopping bags, eyes full of tears. You drop the bags and catch John's attention from the kitchen only for him to drop what he was doing to rush to you. “What’s wrong baby?” He asks you.

“A little bumblebee died on my car while I was shopping.” You sob, you felt so stupid but you just couldn’t stop crying. John was taken aback not knowing how to respond as he generally rubbed your back to try and console you.

2. You tried, you tried hard not to call John during his debriefing meeting with the team. John checks his phone as he speaks to the team, “hold on guys,” he sighs and walks out. He steps just outside the door keeping it open. “Love?” He asked, he sounds annoyed.

It was only month six, you felt useless and helpless. You heard the annoyance in his tone. You felt even more guilty for calling for such a stupid reason, “never mind. I’m sorry for bothering you.” You say sniffling.

John immediately feels guilty for the way he answered, “no baby, I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to sound mean.” John says quietly as the team watches him through the door.

“I um, I can’t open the orange juice jug and I want the orange juice and I can’t have it.” You ramble crying harder.

He pinches his nose, “the meeting is almost over, I’ll be home soon so you can have your orange juice. Just stay strong. You can do it.” He says making all the men snicker, including Simon. Price hangs up after consoling you some more. “I suggest you shut it. Especially you Simon because not long ago, your petting zoo started.” Price says. All the boys laugh at Simon now, what started as a cat ended up as a baby goat that now rests happily in his house.

3. It was 3 am, your designated snack time. Tonight? Cupcakes WITHOUT the icing, but to your dismay, you didn’t have any cupcakes. Tears, immediately.

You waddled to your bedroom where Price slept soundly (not for long), you shake him awake not being gentle, did you eat my cupcakes!” You yell at him.

He’s half asleep, all he sees is your red face and angry tears streaming down your face. He’s groggy, “I- I don’t know?” He mumbles.

“You ate them!” You cry harder now realizing there weren’t any cupcakes.

“I’ll go to the store, and get you some more!” He says now realizing how dire the situation is. He works in two hours, this isn’t how he wanted to start his day.

“I don’t want icing on them!” You yell at him.

“I’ll eat all the icing, you won’t even notice there was icing!” He says quickly pulling on his shoes.

When he returns home, he sits at the dining table as he eats off all the icing and you sit happily with the naked cupcakes. He glares at you as his stomach starts to ache from all the sugary icing, he hates sugar, but seeing you smile after just screaming at him, he’ll deal with the aches.

4. You starred long and hard at the ground constantly shifting your body around, “what are you doing love?” John smiles as he lifted himself on his elbows on the bed to watch you.

“Can’t see my feet.” Your bottom lip trembled and he sees it through the mirror, he gets up to try and stop the tears, “I’m so fat!” You cry stomping your foot on the ground.

“No love, you aren’t fat! Your growing a tiny human in your belly!” John tries to argue.

“I’m fat!” You say sobbing, pushing him away, “don’t wanna be touched.” You cry even harder.

5. You’ve sent John through the wringer these last few months but month nine? Fuck, it was a challenge. You were angry or horny most of the time, even he couldn’t keep up with your pace.

“Johnn,” you whine, “it hurts.” You sniffle.

“What hurts baby?” He asks rubbing your lower back

“Down there, need you.” You sob into the pillow. Fuck, this was one of the times he loved seeing you cry. Crying for him, “please,” you ask looking up at him with tears running down your face.

“Oh baby, how can I say no to you looking like that?” He asks before lifting your nightgown and diving in.

#captain john price #john price x reader #john price #captain price x reader #mw2022 #mw2 x reader #mw2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #cod mw2

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explicit-tae · 5 months

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Metamorphosis (2/2)

A look into your demonic pregnancy leading up to you giving birth to your and Jungkook's son - and prior to being dragged to Hell. Part 1 | Alternative Universe Masterlist | Halloween Masterlist

Word Count: 8.494

Warning: mentions of blood, blood drinking/cannibalism, character death, animal death, blood drinking, kissing, fingering, mentions of oral sex, pregnant sex,

NINE MONTHS BEFORE DRAGGED TO HELL

“Pregnant?” your mother nods her head slowly. Her eyes move from your face to your stomach. There isn’t a bump, and if there was, it’d be far too small to notice from afar.

“Yeah.” you murmur.

Your mother wasn’t the judgment type - she, after all, didn’t live an ideal life. She dealt with the looks often when you were a child besides her wife (your mother before she passed) at church or other places.

However, it wasn’t her judgment that you were worried about - it was mainly your own. You wouldn’t tell your mother that you were pregnant by a demon and was now carrying his seed. You hated yourself and your unfortunate life events enough.

“One night stand?” your mother asks you. She now has a worried look on her face. “Unless you have a boyfriend…?”

You’re unsure what to tell her. Jungkook was not just a one-night stand - you see the man every night (unfortunately). But if you did tell her that Jungkook was your boyfriend to avoid feeling even more stupid, then she’d ask to meet him. And that’s not something you’re sure you wanted - you and Jungkook were not a family. He was a demon that forced you into this situation of carrying his demonic seed.

You swallow and your mother doesn’t press the issue any longer.

“You’re keeping it, I assume?”

You didn’t want to. “Yes.”

Your mother knits her brows. “You don’t look excited.” She wants to joke, but the tension is noticeable. “Don’t go through with this if you aren’t ready, Y/N.”

You want to scoff at her ignorance. She didn’t know that you’ve already tried to get rid of the demonic seed - and said seed had killed your doctor right before you. You’re unsure what it’ll do to you if you tried to kill it once more, even if it did need you to survive for now.

“But if you do, you know I’m always here for you.”

Your heart thumps out your chest.

You don’t want your mother to be a part of your pregnancy journey - not because you didn’t love her or want to share this moment. But because you didn’t want her to get attached to this demonic child. You didn’t want her to be hurt by it, either.

“I know.” you tell her, a sullen look upon your face.

A strained smile, appearing more like a grimace, is what your mother gives you in return. She doesn’t want to pry into your life any more than she needs to. You’re an adult and could make your own decisions. It was her responsibility to be there for you when you needed her to be.

“Are you hungry? I have some fruit in the fridge that I just cut.”

You nod your head. One thing you’ve noticed was your growing appetite. Pregnancy cravings wouldn’t be like this if you were pregnant with a human fetus. You always felt hungry or thirsty, appetite never truly satiated.

“I’m going to go get dinner started since that’s what you’ve come for.” your mother snickers. She lifts up from the kitchen table and makes her way towards the fridge. She grasps the large bowl of fruit. She grabs you a spoon and makes her way back towards you.

“Thank you.” you hum, stomach rumbling. “I’m gonna go watch something.” you tell her before making your way out of the kitchen, bowl in hand.

You do exactly that. You begin to eat the fruit rapidly, humming with satisfaction. If you could look at yourself now, you’d be certain that you looked like a starving pathetic mess.

“Oh shit.” you hiss.

It’s been about 15 minutes and you just noticed that you ate all of the fruit. The spoon you once had has long been discarded and you ate with your hands, snatching the slippery fruit and shoving it in your mouth.

Licking your lips, your face burns with self pity and embarrassment. More so because you were still hungry, as sad as it sounded.

Your right hand touches the empty bowl and you shriek when the bowl suddenly disappears, but in its place is a plate of raw meat - a large bloody steak. You slam the plate down onto the coffee table with wide eyes.

You lift yourself from the couch and make your way down the hall to the bathroom. You slam the door shut behind you and fall to your knees to vomit right into the toilet. The amount would be alarming if you haven’t already grown accustomed to doing so daily.

“Our son is a part of you now.”

You feel a hand on the top of your back, gently rubbing circles. You would be startled if this wasn’t something Jungkook did often. He would creep into your life whenever you were alone - and sometimes you swore you could hear him in your thoughts even when he wasn’t there.

“You shouldn’t ignore his preferences.”

You spit into the toilet a final time then flush. “Raw meat is not a preference.” you hissed. “It sounds like he wants to kill me.”

Jungkook watches as you rinse your mouth out, leaning against the bathroom wall. “You aren’t going to die.”

“I’m human. Unlike you. Or this thing you put inside of me.”

Jungkook blinks, lips in a thin line. “Our son.”

You glance into the mirror to look at Jungkook. His crimson eyes are staring right at you and he isn’t amused.

“You feel sick because our son feels everything you do.” Jungkook takes a step closer.

“Hatred and self-pity?” you snort.

Once again, Jungkook isn’t amused.

“Nothing is going to kill you. Not raw meat, not our son or me.” Jungkook speaks. “You’re basically immortal until you give birth. Each day our son grows stronger and you would temporarily gain his powers.”

You feel like vomiting again at the thought of being able to conjure raw meat - all because the child prefers it.

“Turn around, my beautiful human.”

You exhale a breath and turn towards Jungkook. At your actions, he grins down at you. A hand places itself onto your cheek.

“Having powers is new to you. Humans are so weak.” Jungkook chuckles.

“I don’t want any powers.” you tell Jungkook. Maybe if you were a child wishing to fly or be invincible - but this was not that. You could feel yourself changing everyday and it frightened you. This was real - you were pregnant with a demon fetus by a demon who refused to leave you alone.

“You’ll have to adjust. For our son.” Jungkook traces your lips with his thumb and you hate the way your heart jolts at his actions. “How do you feel right now?”

You swallow.

Your stomach no longer churned and you didn’t have the urge to vomit. The fear, nausea and anxiety were slowly drifting away as if the weight of the world were no longer on your shoulders, even if you knew deep down that your situation was completely against your control.

“Hm.” Jungkook hums, tilting his head. He can read your thoughts, after all. “Like I know. You feel better because I’m here. Our son feels at ease when I’m around.”

Jungkook drops his hand from your face to your stomach. There was nothing for him to touch, no bump. Yet and still, he does.

You feel warm, a strange sensation flowing through you.

You inhale.

“Our son can never fully feel at ease with just you because he understands how you feel about him. The disgust, the anger. Hatred.” Jungkook is whispering now, as if trying to speak to just you and not the unborn fetus. “You’ll adjust, my beautiful human. All you have to do is give in. Stop thinking about just you and think about our son.”

You want to roll your eyes. Jungkook was guilt tripping you - and you were falling for it. He was right. Whenever Jungkook was with you, you never felt anything but comfort. You weren’t constantly in your own thoughts thinking about your situation. The fetus was demonic and therefore is more advanced than a human child at its stage.

‘He.’ Jungkook pipes in, entering your mind. His crimson eyes burning into your own. ‘Refer to our son as he, not an it.’

You sigh.

“You’re hungry.” Jungkook speaks and you’re unsure if he’s talking to you or the fetus. His hand gently rubs your stomach. “You can’t just eat what you usually do. Remember your body is changing. You’re feeding a demon.”

You grimace. The thought of eating raw meat disgusts you. Not only because it’s raw and bloody - but because the aroma entices you. It makes your mouth water and you want nothing more than to sink your teeth inside of it.

“You eat raw meat?” you question meekly.

Jungkook nods. “I eat everything.”

That statement alone frightens you.

“Don’t give me that look.” Jungkook chuckles low at your expression. “I can feed off of anything. You feed me all the time.”

You’re hot at his response and you want to push him away.

Jungkook only comes closer to you. “As a demon, I do not need to physically eat to be fed. You feed me with sex, yes. But you also feed me with your aura, emotions. I can go out and do the same with other humans. They won’t satiate me because they aren’t you, so I don’t.” Jungkook turns you around once more so you can face the mirror. He embraces you from behind, grasping your hand and placing it upon your stomach, his large hand on top yours.

“I cannot tell you what I do as a demon, because then you’ll be frightened of me.” And Jungkook has already gotten you used to his presence and he refuses to go back to you being disgusted with him (prior and after sex, never during). “But I feed off of human’s fear and negativity.”

There’s a sharp pain in your rib and you hiss slightly. Another thing you’d have to get used to. The fetus had strength like no other. The amount of times you woke in the middle of the night to it - he - kicking you was insane.

“If I feel like sinking my teeth into something. I can feed off of human food, yet it’ll never satiate me enough. Just like you, eating human food will never satisfy our son.” Jungkook rubs your stomach, his palm warm. The sharp pains stop and you ponder if it’s something Jungkook was doing.

“You’re going to be disgusted because you are not yet a demon.” The word yet doesn’t fly past your ears, but you allow Jungkook to continue. “But as our son grows, so will your appetite. You’ll crave more than raw meat.”

“What else do demons eat?” You’re afraid to ask, especially looking at Jungkook’s soft smile through the mirror's reflection.

“Blood. Both animal and human.”

Your throat tightens.

“Demons also consume humans raw or they can be cooked.”

Your mouth salivates and your eyes begin to water. You want to vomit at his words. The thought of the child being so hungry that you consume human meat and blood…

But then as you think about it, you’re even more frightened by how hungry you’re beginning to feel at the thought of it.

Jungkook places his chin on your shoulder and smirks. Slowly, you were going to come around. As a human, you were naturally weak and simple minded - but you’d change. You’d eventually come to trust him and love the child growing inside of you. You were a woman after all, and women tend to be nurturing and loving.

“You can even drink my blood.”

Your brow knit together at Jungkook’s words.

“Some demons also feed on other demons. That’s more of a power gaining way, however, it’s still possible. Since you are bound to me, it’ll be more of an intimate type of way.” Jungkook speaks. He holds your gaze in the mirror, not faltering.

“Is this another way for you to have my soul or something?” Drinking a demon's blood was not something you’ve ever heard of, but it had to be more than what Jungkook was letting on.

Jungkook chuckles. You were smart, he thinks. However, humans could never be as smart as a demon. “Your soul already belongs to me. As does your body, mind, heart and your womb.” But, you’d come to love and trust him a little quicker if he had his blood flowing through you.

You sigh in defeat.

“Would you like to try it?”

You swallow and shake your head.

Jungkook hums. “Afraid you’d like it?”

Yes. “No.” you quip. “I-I…I’m human.” you blink away to avoid his eyes. “It’s just too much to handle right now.”

“You cannot keep starving our son. How about you eat the steak first and get accustomed to animal blood. Then we’ll transition from there.”

EIGHT MONTHS BEFORE DRAGGED TO HELL

“That’s what I needed to talk to you about. I can’t stay.”

Your boss slowly turns to look at you. “Why not?”

“I told you I can no longer do any overtime.” you murmur.

You were slowly accepting the fact that you were pregnant by Jungkook and though he was a demon, you suppose it had perks to it.

One of the perks was conjuring, as Jungkook put it. Your son was growing rapidly as was his powers. You were able to conjure up whatever he desired, and also whatever you did. But sometimes it was something you could not control. You recall sitting at your desk thinking about how thirsty you were and had been shocked when in front of you sat a gallon of water. You sat embarrassed when you drunk the entirety of it in under five minutes.

Being pregnant also meant you were always hungry and tired, the demonic child completely draining you at times. You only felt energy when Jungkook was around and holding you. You’re positive he was using his own demonic powers to give you energy, but you never asked and he never confirmed anything.

With furrowed brows, your boss scoffs. “It’s not like you have anything else to do.”

You blink.

“You’re single and pregnant.” your boss continues and now you’re taken aback. “Don’t you think you need the money?”

You can feel your blood boiling. The office was getting empty by the minute, your co-workers all scattering off. You would stay late with your boss to do extra work at times, but it was never mandatory. You were always getting pushed over and were far too nice to tell your boss to fuck off.

“I…” you’re unsure what to say. “Who says I’m single?”

That’s seriously what you’re upset about, being assumed a single mother? But you couldn’t help it. You wore a ring for heaven's sake - sure it was given to you by a demon, but it was still a ring! You’re unsure if Jungkook meant what he said about the two of you being married - again, demon and human. You and he were nod wed at a church like you always imagined you’d be, but you were bound together.

Your boss snickers once more.

“Well I never see a man pick you up. Your lunches are often spent alone. I don’t judge, Y/N. Single mothers are all around the world.”

You shake your head at your boss's words.

“If anything, if you are dating someone, the guys an asshole for allowing you to work while pregnant anyways-”

Your boss suddenly screams. You flinch away from him with wide eyes as your boss is engulfed in flames. Literal flames. The pale blue and orange flames engulf him entirely, the smell of burning flesh meets your nostrils.

The fire alarm is loud, and soon you’re being wet due to the sprinkles above you. You're frozen and your eyes are wide with shock and fear. The loud screams echo in your ears and all you can do is watch as your boss lays onto the ground.

The scenery changes in an instant and you’re no longer in the office, but your bedroom. You swallow, shuddering.

“My beautiful human…”

Jungkook appears before you. He frowns at your appearance.

“You’re wet.” Jungkook hums. “And trembling. You’re probably wondering what’s wrong.”

You sob, utterly confused at what in the world that just transpired in a matter of seconds. Your knees buckle and when you feel as if you’re going to fall to your knees, Jungkook catches you.

“I told you that our son will get stronger as time goes on.” Jungkook speaks, tone soft. “You will gain his power and if it isn’t controlled, it will be unruly.”

You gasp.

Oh no.

“I-I did that?” you’re horrified.

Jungkook wants to coo at your innocence. “Of course you did. Our son played a big role. He doesn’t like when anyone bad-talks his parents.”

Jungkook's expression shows that of a proud father, but you’re more terrified than anything else.

“You also wanted to.” Jungkook continues. “You felt it in you, right? The way your blood boiled. The anger.”

You snap your eyes shut. You never wanted to hurt anyone before, but Jungkook was correct. The anger you felt at your bosses words - how you were assumed to be a single mother that just needed the money because of that reason. How sinister your boss spoke to you - as if you weren’t a human that deserved decency.

“It’s okay, my beautiful human.” Jungkook rubs your back to calm you. He can sense the rise in your heart beat. “You’ve done what you thought was right. Give in to it.”

You swallow. “I-I…I don’t think I can go back.”

“You don’t need to.” Jungkook assures. “What are you working for when everything can be provided for you by me?”

“I do have bills.” you retort.

Jungkook snorts. “Bills are something humans created out of boredom. That isn’t something you have to worry about.” Jungkook leans away to have a look at you. “How about you come live with me?”

You flinch away from him. “In Hell?” you appear as if Jungkook’s hands burned you by the way you smacked them away.

“Don’t be foolish, Y/N. I won’t be taking you to Hell.” Yet, Jungkook thinks. “Demons do have to hide in the human realm. I have a home where I often stay while on Earth.”

You blink.

You never thought about where Jungkook goes when he isn’t with you. You always assumed he went to Hell - how he got there you weren’t sure. Yet again, he came and went as he pleased whenever he wanted to.

“It’ll be easier for me to keep an eye on you. You don’t have to work. Don’t want you burning the whole place down, do we?”

Jungkook’s attempts at a joke isn’t amusing. You have never been more terrified in your life, and knowing now that you were the reason for it sends shivers up your spine.

“I guess so.”

Jungkook smiles at you, a smile that meant more than you were looking into.

SEVEN MONTHS BEFORE DRAGGED TO HELL

“Isn’t it cute?” your mother beams as she holds up the small article of clothing.

You swallow, grasping it in your hands. It’s a baby’s onesie - one that’s soft at the touch and so small that it causes your heart to swell. It’s gray, your mother’s attempt to be gender neutral, and comes with a little hat.

“Have you gone to see what the gender is?” your mother asks you.

You blink up from the onesie and slowly nod your head.

You haven’t gone, of course. You had put all of your trust into Jungkook - a part of you screaming that it was a bad idea. However, you didn’t need your son (or you) killing anyone else.

Jungkook assured that the baby was safe and the happiest he’s ever felt. You moved in with Jungkook - shocked to see that he lived in a secluded estate deep in a forested area - and never truly had to worry about anything. You had an unlimited amount of food - even raw meat supplied by your son - and always rested for as long as you wanted; going as far as sleeping a full 24 hours.

“It’s a boy.” you murmur.

Your mother’s eyes widened and slowly, so did her smile. She suddenly wraps you in a tight embrace - a sudden one. You were frightened by the suddency of it. You didn’t want the baby to assume she was attempting to hurt you and have your mother fall to the same fate as the doctor and your boss.

“That’s so lovely.” your mother exclaims during her hug. When she releases you, you sigh in relief. “A boy is a blessing.”

You could only give a soft smile.

“Come. Let’s look for more clothing now that I know I’m having a grandson.”

Your mothers excitement is refreshing. You try not to think of the future when you give birth. If the baby had such strength and power while not being born, you can imagine what he would be like just as a newborn or a toddler. The thought often keeps you wondering, even if Jungkook assures you that everything would be alright.

Your mother was right about one thing. When she dragged you from her home while visiting her to a baby boutique, she said it would bring you joy to buy things for the baby. She recalls the times she did the same for you before you were born, both of your mothers joyfully picking out everything pink and girly - just for you to soon get tired of the bright colors; how ironic.

Your hand places itself onto the bump of your stomach - that has since grown in size. You’re positive that normal women weren’t this size at just three months, but you would have to remind yourself that your circumstances weren’t the same as anyone else's.

In your free hand is an all black pajama onesie. It’s basic, nothing truly special about it. There was no graphic or letter on it, however it caught your attention.

You feel a kick on your lower stomach, and you snort. “You like it, too?” you murmur to the child, the hand on your stomach gently rubbing. “You’ll look a lot like your father if you wore this. All black…”

Your body feels warm; euphoric. You shudder at the unfamiliar feeling. Your skin litters with goosebumps and your heart begins to jolt. Your mind blanks for a moment, and it’s as though you’re no longer in the boutique. You glance up from the onesie, completely still at the sight before you. It was an outer body experience, as if you’re watching yourself through a lens.

Humming, a low familiar tone you recall your own mothers humming to you. You see yourself, arms occupied with a baby as you rock said baby back and forth, humming the familiar tune to calm him down. The baby’s eyes are open and it’s then that you recognize the crimson eyes that are similar to Jungkook.

“Are you okay?”

When you blink, it’s as if the world comes back to normal. The soft music in the boutique continues, and you’re now looking at your mother.

What in the world just happened?

“Yeah.” you nod your head.

“Is that all you’re getting?”

You shake your head. “No. Just thinking…” you murmur.

Your mother doesn’t pry and you’re thankful for that.

‘Our son is communicating with you.’

Jungkook’s voice rings through your head. Your eyes glance around the boutique and you ponder where he could be at.

‘I’m not here, beautiful human. I still have access to you even if you are not with me.’

That explains things.

‘Our son has found a way to communicate with you. He’s telling you that he’s happy.’

You glance at your mother for a moment.

‘Didn’t you feel the euphoria run through you? Your mood has changed and now you’re glowing, my beautiful human. You see what happens when you accept the product of our bond?’

Everyday there’s something new with the child. You’ve already conjured whatever you desired, set someone on fire and a few times found yourself instant transferring yourself somewhere. Jungkook called the action ‘blinking’ and you could only do it a couple feet away, however you did it regardless. Now knowing that the fetus is communicating with you sends shivers up your spine.

Later on that night, you find yourself in the forest area. The sun has since set and you were alone. You’re unsure where Jungkook was, but you never dwelled on it. He always returned right before you went to bed.

In any other situation, you’d be frightened to walk alone at night - especially in such a secluded area. However, it was as if fear was slowly removing itself from your life. You recall Jungkook’s words from months prior. You were immortal now in a way. Whatever threat your son felt was eliminated and a deep part of you feels liberated about it.

Your head snaps when you hear a sound like leaves rustling. Your eyes squint, the only source of light is the moon above.

It appears to be the size of a dog, you note. You’ve never seen a fox up close before. Its fur is an auburn color and its eyes stare right at you, unmoving.Suddenly, its tail begins to move, the thick bushy swooping back and forth.

You take a step closer and, alerted, the fox begins to flee.

Your mind doesn’t register what you’re doing. Your feet already pick up and now you’re chasing the fast animal. Your speed astonishes you. You’re pregnant, appearing more far along into pregnancy then what you actually were. You don’t recall when you’ve ever run this fast in your life.

In a matter of seconds, your scenery changes and you’re in front of the fox, startling it. Your fingers dig into the thick fur of the fox and you fall to your knees. You aren’t aware of what you’re doing, not even when your teeth - now sharp and canine like - sink into the foxes neck.

You don’t register the screeching the fox does when you repeatedly sink your teeth into it, blood splatting onto your clothing, hands and face. The taste hits your mouth and you’re unable to stop the feast, the blood hitting your throat and satiating a thirst you weren’t aware you held.

Only when the animal was drained did you realize what you’ve done - and what you could possibly look like now. Your eyes widened and you began to shake. Suddenly, right beside the drained dead fox, did you vomit.

SIX MONTHS BEFORE DRAGGED TO HELL

You cried and cried and cried that night you killed an animal with your bare hands. And now, a month later, you continue to cry as you’re covered in animal blood. You’re disgusted with how good it tastes and how willing you are to keep doing it.

“You’re going to have to stop crying eventually.” Jungkook dips the ring he has given you underneath the running water. “You’re feeding our son. You should never feel saddened about that.”

“I killed it with my bare hands!” you wail, hiccuping. Your stomach churns for even more blood - your son just wants to mock you, you’re sure.

Jungkook turns off the water and sighs. He places the ring to dry on a paper towel before turning to you.

“As you should. Our son needs to eat.” Jungkook takes a few steps closer to your weeping figure. “Come on, my beautiful human. Let’s go bathe.”

Bathing with Jungkook was something he insisted on doing every once in a while - he understands it calms you down, even when you won’t admit it.

The shower and the tub are separate and the water is warm upon entering. You feel self-conscious about your naked body at times, it was growing hard to see your own feet or anything below you as you walked. But you were making the most of your situation.

The water running down the drain is red, obviously due to the animal that you slaughtered and ate. You rub along your skin with the warm water and sigh when you feel yourself slowly start to calm down.

You feel a cold substance on your shoulders and you shudder. Then, there’s hands - Jungkook’s - rubbing along them. You sigh, melting into his touch. For a moment, it’s silent and neither of you say anything. The shower water slaps against the floor as Jungkook’s hands work along your neck.

“Our son is getting stronger.” Jungkook says. “His hunger will grow as he does. You can’t keep crying each time you kill an animal.”

Your head falls back against Jungkook’s chest and you sigh. “I know.” you say, but it didn’t make things any better. “I just feel bad afterwards.”

“You eat meat all the time.” Jungkook snorts.

“That I don’t have to kill!” you retort.

Jungkook is silent and you take it upon yourself to finish your shower, making sure to wash every inch of you until you’re satisfied. Once you were, you turned towards Jungkook to find that he also had been washing. His eyes are on you, and slowly, a smile forms onto his lips.

“Let’s bathe.” he says, rinsing himself off.

Jungkook doesn’t allow any retorts. With a flick of a hand, the shower turns off and the bath - around 10 feet away from the shower - turns on. You watch as he sits inside the bath, back against the cold tub. “Come.” he says.

You roll your eyes, but comply.

“Don’t face me.” Jungkook says. “I want us both to relax.”

Relaxing means your back against Jungkook’s chest while he lays a hand upon your bump. It’s like your son always knows when Jungkook’s near, you can see just how your stomach shifts wildly.

“Would it be better if I killed the animals for you?” Jungkook asks suddenly. His hands rub another part of your stomach to meet the baby’s kicks and it looks like a game between the two.

You shrug your shoulders. “Not really sure what the difference is. I’m still going to feel sad about it.”

“You humans are fragile.” Jungkook snorts. “The difference is you wouldn’t have to be so bloody at the end of it all.”

“I suppose you’re right.” you hum, but you didn’t want to talk about that anymore. The water is the perfect temperature and it relaxes your nerves throughout. Whatever game your child and Jungkook was playing seemed to die down, he was no longer kicking or punching.

“My beautiful human…”

You feel Jungkook’s lips on your neck, placing soft kisses. You’re already knowing what the man wants, especially when his hand dips down from your bump to between your legs.

“Should’ve known this was just an excuse to get between my legs.” you acknowledged.

You feel a tickle from Jungkook’s breath, a chuckle at your response. “The same legs that are widening for me to gain more access?”

Jungkook had a point, you think. There’s a hand gripping your breast while the other begins to play with your clit. You bite your lip at the feeling.

It’s crazy to think how domesticated you became. You no longer shied away from Jungkook when it came to sex - because it was inevitable. He was going to take you regardless if you denied him or not; the hot throbbing feeling between your legs growing needier by the second if you hadn’t.

Not only with sex, but you became happy to see Jungkook - as if he wasn’t a demon fated to ruin your human life. You wake up with Jungkook by your side, a hand on your stomach. You and he ate together - what human food you could tolerate - and you didn’t feel like being with him was a burden.

Your son was happiest when Jungkook was around, too. The kicks that would send shockwaves through your body only ever happened when the man was close - it was how you knew Jungkook was near before he made his presence known.

“I can never keep my hands from you, my beautiful human.” Jungkook steadies two fingers inside of you. “You’re glowing.”

You snicker, but it’s died down with a moan. Jungkook begins to pump inside of you, the splashing of the water evident with the pace he’s going.

“Our son is sucking all the life out of me.” you retort. You never looked like yourself. There were times you’d look in the mirror and swear you’d seen a ghost - and even the faintest crimson color in your eyes.

Jungkook freezes, his kissing on your neck coming to a halt.

“What’s wrong?” you question, ready to remove yourself from him when Jungkook brings you back.

“This is the first time you called him our son.” Jungkook says, a small smirk forming onto his lips against your skin. Slowly, you were adjusting to the changes Jungkook had forced upon you - like you should be.

“Not like you gave me a choice.” you murmur in defense. “I stopped calling him an it months ago.”

You have, but to hear you say our son like you have is different, but the demon doesn’t dwell on it, he had a job to do, and it was to make you cum.

TWO MONTHS BEFORE DRAGGED TO HELL

The first time you’ve tried human blood had your taste buds going crazy - you swore you’ve never tasted anything as savory before. You never wanted anything else afterwards, and if you did, it had to be drenched in human blood.

The raw streak you ate had a blood bag of human blood, obtained by Jungkook who always satiated your thirst for blood.

There was a time in which you ate fries with a side of human blood because ketchup couldn’t satisfy you or your son.

Jungkook likes to watch you eat - enjoys feeling his son's demonic aura. You’ve grown in size, far larger than a human pregnancy. His son was large; small hand and foot prints pushing against your stomach to be released.

Jungkook likes to watch you eat because now you no longer cared about how you looked. Your appearance took a slight change - thanks to the child. Your eyes matched his own, the crimson color. Your face appeared more full, as did your breast - an action he wasn’t opposed to.

You now fully embraced that you were birthing a demon and you’d remain by his side for eternity - and now that you’ve accepted the fact, it made things easier.

“Damn it.” your mother curses, dropping the sharp knife she was holding. It clunks against the ground, droplets of blood falling besides it.

Your eyes zone in on your mother clenching her finger. This was the first time she was in your home - she insisted on cooking for you and Jungkook as this was the first time she’s been meeting him.

The iron smell of your mothers blood reaches your nostrils and there’s a low groan that releases from your lips.

‘No.’ you tell yourself. ‘Not her.’

You swallow. “Are you okay?”

Your mother snickers. “Yeah. Just cut myself. Let me get this cleaned up.”

Your mother turns on the faucet to clean the blood from her finger. You release a sigh, placing a hand upon your stomach. Your son is moving, obviously having sensed the human blood near.

‘I can’t eat her.’ you tell your son, stern with your choice. The fetus is upset, sending a few kicks against your spine, but you were adamant.

“Is everything alright?”

Jungkook blinks into the room on que, thankfully your mother had her back turned.

‘Why is our son trying to break your back?’ Jungkook asks you, his eyes on your face. But before you can answer, he eyes your mother and can smell the blood.

“Luckily for you,” Jungkook places a white cup with a lid and straw in your hand and gives you a wink. “I’ve brought refreshments.”

Your mother loves Jungkook - who knows demons can make break impressions. She had not suspected he was anything but human and you’ve noted that this was the first time you saw Jungkook had dark eyes instead of the crimson ones.

You’ve never seen Jungkook interact with anyone that wasn’t you and the act appeared…human like. He ate your mothers cooking, he complimented it. He laughed and joked with your mother and oftentimes would place a hand on your bump when your son was craving more than what your mother cooked.

“I think you two are good together.” your mother says at the door while she wraps you in a hug. “You look…happy. So alive.”

You laugh. “Do I?” you aren’t sure if you can call it thought. You were drinking human blood to satisfy the demon growing inside of you.

“Yes. You’re glowing.” your mother takes a look at you with a soft smile. “I haven’t seen this glow since…”

You know where she’s going, but she doesn't say it. She doesn’t wish to ruin a happy moment between the two of you.

Once your mother is gone, you’re left with Jungkook. He snaps his fingers and the dishes in the sink are gone.

“I can’t believe he was trying to break my back.” you sigh, placing a hand on your stomach. There’s no movement, probably means he was relaxed now after all the mayhem he was causing earlier.

“Yes.” Jungkook places a hand on the top of your bump. “It would’ve healed automatically. Still a stubborn one.”

Like father like son, you think, and all Jungkook can do is hum in agreement.

Sex with Jungkook became a habit - more now than ever. You never questioned him when he said he found you irresistible. You looked ready to explode and you never had any true stamina to help - but Jungkook never cared. He always insisted on eating you out until you’re squirming, suckling on your clit as if his demonic life depended on it.

Even now as you allow Jungkook to fuck into you while you were on top, Jungkook couldn’t help but want to coo at your thoughts - and give you what you want.

‘You can bite me, my beautiful human. It won’t hurt.’

You flush hot when you hear Jungkook in your head - that meant he was listening in to what you were thinking. Yet, you shouldn’t be alarmed because he did it so often.

And all you were thinking about was biting him, your mind flooding with his words of months prior. How drinking his blood would be intimate for the both of you.

And now you didn’t care, no longer feeling the disgust as you did months ago. Your teeth gradually sink into the skin of Jungkook’s neck and you bite harshly until you feel the taste of irony on your tongue.

The act alone causes Jungkook to fuck into you harder, fingers bruising into your hips. He grunts a few swear words as your tongue licks upon the bleeding wound. If your former self could see you now - willingly sucking on Jungkook’s neck for any type of blood while he fucks you to his heart (did demons have hearts?) content.

Jungkook’s eyes marvel at you, blood - his blood - trailing down your chin. Your eyes resembled his own (side-effects of the pregnancy) and you appeared to be like a true demon.

‘My beautiful wife.’ Only slightly does your eyes widen from hearing Jungkook in your mind and you’re beginning to think you were hearing things - but you weren’t. This was the first time Jungkook had called you his wife - not beautiful human, but his wife.

Jungkook wraps you in an embrace to bring you closer to him, his lips on your chest. His own teeth sink into you, quivering with pleasure when your blood hits his tongue. His thrusts never stop, not until you’re cumming around him so beautifully and he does the same inside of you.

ONE MONTH BEFORE DRAGGED TO HELL

“I’m trying.” Jimin grits his teeth at the younger demon. “You’ve been gone for months, Kook. They’re asking questions.”

“Then tell them something to make them stop asking questions.” Jungkook hisses back.

“They’re not going to stop asking questions.” Taehyung’s voice sounds from behind Jungkook. “There’s been rumors.”

“Rumors?” Jungkook furrows a brow and scoffs. “What rumors-”

“The infamous Jungkook has grown soft in the Human realm.” Jimin announced, a teasing tone in his voice. “You haven’t been back to the Underworld in so long they’re beginning to think you found someone here.”

“Have you?” Taehyung asks, blinking besides Jimin, to lean against the wall of his kitchen. “Don’t give me that look, Kook…it’s just a question.”

“I’ve been working.”

“On?” Jimin questions.

“Why is it any of your concern?”

“You’ve always told us.” Taehyung retorts. “It’s not like you to leave the Brotherhood without as much as a word.”

“I’m not leaving the Brotherhood.” Jungkook scoffs. “I have business to attend to here.”

“What’s that?” Jimin stands from his seat, eyes roaming around the room. “Do you feel that?”

Jungkook swallows, tongue in his cheek. His son always had the perfect timing to be awake and showcasing whatever power he had.

“Yeah.” Taehyung glances at Jungkook. “It’s faint but-”

Jimin blinks away and Jungkook already knows where he’s going. He does the same, leaving Taehyung stunned and in the kitchen.

Jungkook is in front of your sleeping figure before Jimin is, eyes glaring at the older demon.

“Well…” Jimin’s eyes are on you - more so your stomach. “Looks like the child wants out.” the tiny foot and hand prints are pushing against your stomach and not once did you stir, having grown used to it over the months.

“You…” Taehyung eyes you sleeping soundly upon the bed and then back to Jungkook. “...asshole-”

“She’s asleep.” Jungkook hisses, lowering the tone in his own voice. As his son grew, he was growing restless, wanting out of you. He rarely allows you to sleep and now that you were able to, Jungkook wasn’t going to allow his brothers to ruin it.

“Are we going to ignore the obvious child in her stomach?” Jimin murmurs, eyeing your sleeping figure with a moving stomach. “How is she not waking by that alone?”

“She’s grown used to it.” Jungkook glances behind himself at you. He only allows a slight grin before he turns back to his two brothers. “Are you done here?”

Jimin is the first to blink away, followed by Taehyung. Jungkook sighs then does the same, now inside the kitchen once more.

“When were you going to tell us you’re having a son?” Jimin is upset, now facing Jungkook.

“I’m so upset.” Taehyung shakes his head.

Jungkook tilts his head. “I have my reasons.” is all Jungkook says.

Jimin scoffs. “We have to be there when he’s born. It’s a tradition.” he says matter-of-factly. “This is your first son. A new member of the Brotherhood.”

Taehyung watches Jungkook’s reaction. He opens his mouth to speak but doesn’t say anything. “Does she not know you’re a demon?” he asks, yet he isn’t sure it’s that. You had to have known that you were pregnant with a non-human child - the fetus was attempting to claw its way out of you as they speak.

“She does.”

Jimin waves his hand. “Then why are you keeping her from us?”

“I’m not.” Jungkook grits.

“He doesn’t know.” Taehyung states. “That’s why you’re still in the Human realm.”

Jimin furrows his brows, glancing between Jungkook and Taehyung.

Jungkook pokes his tongue through his cheek. He inhales deeply and then nods his head.

The Source did not know what he was doing or where he was at - and Jungkook was doing everything in his power to keep it that way. He only returns to the Underworld to report back to the Source monthly like all the demons do; especially the upper-level ones such as himself and the Brotherhood.

A hybrid child is not unknown to the Underworld, but rarely did the human parent survive - most times being killed. Hybrid children were often used to blend into the Human world, most times coming off as “more” humanly than that of a full demon who would have to mask their appearance.

However, Jungkook was not just a demon, but an upper-level one that worked closely to the Source. And though his brothers were accepting of you and his son, that didn’t mean the rest of the Brotherhood would.

“We have to tell the others before they come upon themselves.”

“No.” Jungkook is certain in his choice. “You’ve already called me weak.” Jungkook didn’t want to know what they’d attempt to do if they found you to be a problem with his demonic duties or his power.

“It’s not up for debate.” Taehyung began. “Like Jimin said, this is your first son and we’ll have to be there. It’s a tradition.”

Jungkook knew that it was inevitable - especially now that Jimin and Taehyung knew. He was anticipating that the baby would be born before the Brotherhood intervened - now his plans have changed.

“You love the human.” Jimin states. “Obviously, the Brotherhood isn’t going to like that.” he chuckles, but at Jungkook’s hard stare, he lifts his hands. “But don’t worry. You have us.”

“They aren’t going to allow you to keep the Human.” Taehyung speaks realism and not what Jungkook wants to hear to spare whatever feelings he holds for you. “Humans bring human feelings and we cannot risk you growing weak because of her.”

“What are you saying?” Jungkook’s eyes are narrowed at Taehyung and the tension in the room grows by the second.

“I’m saying you need to get rid of the Human.” Taehyung speaks, and it’s as if a pin drops; the silence that comes after Jungkook speaks. “Once the baby is born.”

Jungkook doesn’t react that he wants to - the Brotherhood never attacks their own. But there’s something in his body that holds everything back for him to not attack Taehyung and it’s an act that begins to frighten him - because his brothers were correct. Humans did bring human emotions and if just the thought of you being harmed has Jungkook feeling like this, then you already had a target on your back to prevent a shift in the Brotherhood.

“You can’t kill her. Nor can I.” Jungkook speaks, eyes hard on Taehyung. “We’re already bound together. Brotherhood rule.”

Jimin snickers at his two bickering brothers, both standing tall and refusing to back down. “He’s right, Tae.” Jimin speaks. “The Brotherhood cannot harm or kill a fellow brother’s bound partner.”

Taehyung scoffs with a shake of his head. “How far the Brotherhood has fallen.” he announces. “I’m beginning to think the rumors of you becoming weak are true.”

Taehyung is gone in a blink of an eye, leaving Jungkook and Jimin to look where he once stood.

“Taehyung will come around.” Jimin sighs. He’s tired of being the mediator between you and Taehyung’s bickering. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Jungkook swallows. “Do tell the Brotherhood to not return until my child is expected to be born.”

Jimin sighs but nods. Jungkook begins to step away and out of his kitchen. “And do tell anyone in the Underworld to test the rumors if they believe them to be true.

“I gave you my word, Y/N. That we'll be together.”

The Underworld isn’t what you’ve expected. Hell is always explained to be a fiery pit - nothing but flames enclosing around you.

This was far from it.

The Underworld was dark, only light there was lit by candles - thousands of them lit. It’s quieter than you expected, as well. You were once told that Hell was home to evil spirits and those who’d died, forever screaming at their ultimate demise.

Then again, Jungkook was a demon and you were never told that demons can look god-like.

Your ears pick up on soft coos, your attention fully on the baby in Jungkook’s arms. He was no longer a newborn, but appeared a few months older.

Your heart swells.

“It wasn’t easy to find your soul, Y/N.” Jungkook speaks, his access to your mind remaining. “But I made you a promise.”

“Can I hold him?” you question. If you asked Jungkook too many questions about the Underworld, what he did and why he did it, you’d be here for an eternity. Your only focus was on your son.

Jungkook watches the way you hold the baby close to you, your nose against his puffed up cheeks. There’s a few more coos from his son, his aura calm and content to have be in your presence once more.

“Jungkook….”

The man stands straighter at the sound of his name leave from your lips.

“...I’m not a human anymore, am I?”

Jungkook gently shakes his head. “No.”

You’re silent for a moment. “And I can’t return back…home?”

“No.” Jungkook murmurs.

You hold the baby closer to you, never wanting to let him go.

“What about my mother?” you dare to ask, but you’re unsure if you truly want the truth.

Jungkook licks his lips. “Time is different in the Human realm than it is in the Underworld.” he speaks. “I was leaving the decision to you.”

You glance up from the baby - who is now slowly falling asleep - to Jungkook. “What do you mean?”

“I know how much you cared for her.” Jungkook begins. For the months he’s been with you, your love for your mother remained strong and the pregnancy never ruined the routined you held with her. “To make things easier for her, I can have her memory of you erased.”

You stiffen. “E-Erased?” you question. “As if I was never there?”

Jungkook nods.

You’re unsure what you want Jungkook to do.

You didn’t want your mother to be so heavily involved in your pregnancy. You didn’t know if you’d survive birthing a demon and you didn’t want your mother to lose you and her wife.

Yet, she already has and that thought alone pains you enough.

“I don’t want her to forget us.” you murmur - and maybe it was selfish of you. Your mother would live through such pain alone - the pain of losing her only child and a grandchild she could never meet. “I want her to think we’ve died in childbirth. Can you do that?” It was harsh, you’d admit, but it was your own selfish desire to keep your mother as close as you could.

Jungkook nods.

“And…you can compel people, right? You have to compel her to accept the fact that I’m gone so she doesn’t try to look further into it.” you hold your son tighter, your voice cracking as you begin to speak.

“I understand.” Jungkook says. “My beautiful wife…” he trails off, coming closer to place a hand upon your cheek. His touch is warm just as you remembered it to be. He offers you a short smile then blinking out of your sight before you can speak.

@juju-227592 @seokjinkismet @bloodline1632 @darkuni63 @castlewolfsbane @babycandy111 @chimmy-licious @whipwhoops @chimmisbae @bangtans-momma

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