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#pregnancy imagine
ciaraswritings · 1 year
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Unexpected.
Disclaimer: I do not own DC or their characters, or their settings. This is certainly not canon.
Warnings & Topics: Suggestive themes, emotional distress, physical exhaustion, pregnancy. 18+.
Word Count: 3.9K words
Summary: Batmom! reader finds out she is pregnant a short time after marrying Bruce Wayne, not in the most pleasant of ways. Telling him won't be easy, but Alfred gives her some encouragement.
Author's note: After four hours of work, I deem my first fanfiction suitable for posting. Thank you for all the support. I hope you enjoy.
It'd been two months since that beautiful, blissful, romantic day. Actually, two months, two weeks, and one day. But who was counting, right?
The newspapers were. Headlines of gossip news, huge block letters in bold, depicted that I had been spotted at the gym alone again, also describing their support for my "weight loss journey" since I had been "losing my figure". I had been reading this article over and over for about an hour. Damn. I inspected the black and white photo of myself in leggings and a tank top. The worst part about, well, everything, is that they were right. I was losing my figure, noticeably. 
I didn't even notice Alfred behind me until he spoke. "No matter how many times you read them, the words are not going to change, ma'am."
I jumped slightly. I hadn't been sleeping or eating well at all, my back and chest ached too much to relax, and heartburn hit me like a batarang after meals. I think I had gotten thirty hours of sleep in the last week, and maybe one meal a day. "Thank you, Alfred. Do you know when dinner will be ready?" 
"In a half hour, ma'am." The butler moved to the other end of the kitchen table to face me. "Those words in the paper are words that all who love you disagree with."
Alfred's words touched me if only a little, and I set down the paper. "Thank you, I think I'm going to take a walk." 
He looked concerned, but just for a moment. "Alright, ma'am. Try not to be late, the chicken may be devoured." 
Chuckling, I stepped out into the early evening light. I would not be late for dinner, living with five hungry men teaches you a lot. The sunlight embraced me, bathing me in its gentle rays, glimmering over my face. I felt positively glorious. Closing my eyes, I soaked it in. My husband would soon be home to kiss me and keep an arm around my waist. The simple thought of his touch made my mouth stretch into a smile. Five more minutes, and I'll go in. 
Five minutes turned into twenty. Being amongst the blooming flowers and the busy insects kept me occupied. Not only that, but a sudden headache had overtaken me. I sat in the grass, unladylike, watching the bees collect their last supply of nectar from the flowers for the day. Grass stains never bothered me anyway. I knew time was getting away from me, but I couldn't seem to bring myself to focus on anything. I didn't want to go inside because I didn't want bedtime to arrive. It was too painful to even think about. My head and back reminded me of that even now. 
My vision blurred slightly, I could only focus on a single flower on the bushes before me, bees continuing to fly around it. This was nice. I couldn't focus on a single thing, or think about anything, or worry.
I felt myself fall, sort of, to the ground. Fall was the best word I know to describe it. I was already sitting on the ground, but my muscles suddenly felt like pudding. My head bumped to the grass and laid to rest. Terror gripped my heart and throat for a single second before everything just... relaxed. My vision went next, but I was okay with that. This was so relaxing. I wanted to stay.
...
"Madam. Madam (Y/N)!" The voice came from... maybe a mile away. Maybe. Maybe ten miles. Maybe a hundred.
"(Y/N), madam (Y/N)!" Something cold was on my face. Ugh. I don't like that. The wind bit and stung at where the cold wetness was on my cheek. Ouch.
"Wake up, madam!" No. I don't want to. Go away. But the voice sounds scared.  
I slowly, slowly, with great effort, opened my eyes. Instantly they closed again. My friend the butler was hovering over me. What was his name again?
"Mom!" New voice. Go the hell away. I open my eyes again. 
"I'm here, I'm fine." Sitting up took much more strength than opening my eyes, but I managed to do so. Dick and Alfred worriedly stare at me. "I was just taking a nap."
"That wasn't a nap, it looked like you passed out." Dick was the one with the cold wet cloth. He put it to my head again. I gave him a withering glare, and he pulled it away again, looking apologetic. 
"It was a nap, of course I didn't pass out. Now let me return to it," I waved my hand in no particular direction, trying to shoo them away like mice.
"I am afraid I cannot allow you to sleep on the cold ground in nothing but your loungewear, ma'am." Alfred took the cloth from Dick and put it to my forehead. 
Lord, they were being so annoying, I just wanted to go back to sleep. My eyelids drooped and my words slurred. "Bed hurts too much right now... just come back later..." my head finally dropped forward as vision began to diminish again. 
I couldn't really tell what they said next. What I could remember was, "Inside now... call the... when they can see her..." and "...got her... go and tell him... I've got it..." 
The sensation of being lifted did not startle my dozing. Neither did the shouting, nor the feeling of hands on my face. I had earned this sleep, and I was going to... enjoy... it...
...
I was awake, but I didn't want to open my eyes. It wasn't time. Please don't let it be time. I peeked a glance at my watch. Eight in the morning on a Sunday? Yeah, back to sleep we go. 
Before I could return to my dreamless sleep, I became aware of unidentified breathing beside me. Was that Titus? Or maybe Alfred. Maybe I had been kidnapped. Did I care? Hell to the no. All I cared about at this present moment was slumber. If I was kidnapped, I could sleep all I wanted while I waited for them to rescue me.
Then, like a train, uninvited and on its own, the back pain hit my lower body. I couldn't help the moan of discomfort that tore from my throat.
Instantly, a hand went to my forehead. It felt so cold against my warm head. I'd better see who this person with the cold hands is and tell them to go stick their fingers in a campfire before touching me again.
 When I opened my eyes, I realized I wasn't even in the garden anymore. Alfred, I told you I wanted to stay on the ground. But it wasn't Alfred who had put freezing digits on my forehead. It was my husband, my dearest Bruce, my wonderful partner in... crime didn't seem like a good choice of words. His worried blue eyes bored into my sleep-deprived (Y/C) eyes. Ouch, that gaze made my headache come back.
"Hello. Go warm your hands up," I told the love of my life before closing my eyes again. The light from the window seemed to be penetrating my very brain. 
"My hands are warm," replied the bearer of freezing fingers.
"Please, feels like your hands went to the Artic circle for winter vacation." My stubborn retort took a lot out of me, but I could practically hear his small smile. 
"There's my girl," he murmured. I opened my eyes again to smile at my wonderful... freezing... man. 
"Yeahhh, your girl's going back to dreamland. Night night." I grunted at the pain stabbing me in the back, the throbbing in my head, and the emptiness in my stomach.
"Not yet, sweetheart. Stay right here. The doctor's going to be here at ten, you should freshen up a bit." 
I opened one eye to glare unhappily at him. "Don't need a doctor. Need a nap."
His chuckle annoyed me to the very core, almost scaring away the shooting pains in my back. "I'm sorry, but this needs to happen. Do you know how worried we all were when we heard you had fainted in the garden? The boys hardly wanted to go on patrol, they wanted to look after you."
"The boys didn't want to go on patrol? You didn't want to look after me?" I glared playfully at my handsome knight. "And I didn't faint... just took a nap."
"On the cold hard ground?" His questioning gaze made me open both my eyes.
"Yes, it felt nice on my back." 
"Does your back still hurt, sweetheart?"
"Yes, it still hurts." 
"And you didn't feel like sleeping in the bed?"
"The hell is this, an interrogation?" 
"Maybe," he grinned.
"Go away," I retorted, closing my eyes. "I have to go to work, no time for doctors."
"I called and told them you can't come in this week."
"This... this is why I married you."
It didn't take long to fall back into blissful, painless paradise. Bruce left me alone, but I knew he was close by, watching over me. The mansion was so quiet and peaceful, I knew the boys were fast asleep.
Much too soon, I was being kissed awake. 
"Darling, Doctor Thompkin's here. It's time to wake up." Bruce's forehead kisses were, for the very first time in our relationship, annoying. 
"Ugh." I rolled over to escape, my back cracking. 
"Upsy daisy." He stroked my back, gently massaging my painfully aching muscles.
Sitting up took all the strength I had, and yet I had to find more to answer the questionnaire the doctor was springing upon me. Bruce stepped out mid-examination to answer a phone call, leaving the woman to observe my body and take into consideration my answers to her questions. Her questions seemed endless. "Have you been out of the country in the last month?" 
"No."
"Have you been feeling depressed or hopeless?"
"No."
"Are you on any medications?"
"No."
"Do you or any family members have history of scoliosis?" 
"No."
"History of heartburn?"
"No."
"When was your last menstrual cycle?"
"It's marked on the calendar, couple pages back." 
"Do you know what year it is?"
I gave her a funny look. "Of course I do, what's wrong with you?" Now I feel bad for saying that, but I certainly didn't in the moment.
The doctor chuckled, her friendly eyes had laughter lines around them. "Just wanted to make sure you're still with me. Are you on birth control?"
"Yes."
"How long have you been on birth control?" 
"Couple months. I went on it during our honeymoon."
"During?"
"Yes, we realized condoms and plan B weren't as convenient as the pill."
"I'm going to need a blood sample and then we're done here. I'll be in touch with the results. You don't seem to be suffering from scoliosis, but I'll contact you about x-rays to confirm. I haven't made a house call in a long time, or practiced family medicine, but I'll do everything I can to make sure we get to the root of this."
"Okay." 
The blood draw seemed to take longer than I remembered blood draws taking. The prick of the needle didn't disturb the haze of sleepiness that still surrounded me. The woman's departure signaled another wave of sleepiness to wash over me. Bruce and Alfred were showing the doctor out as my head hit the pillow. Pain shot up my back, but sleep had already captured me. 
Tomorrow turned into today, and then today became yesterday. It felt like I slept the whole Monday, skipping work and family dinner. Tuesday morning came with sunshine and kisses from my darling husband as I slowly opened my eyes. 
"Hi," I smiled at him. One of Bruce's arms was holding me almost loosely as he lay next to me in the white sheets. He looked worn and tired from a long night of patrol. I sniffed him. Good, he had showered. 
"Hello." His tired kiss on my lips was slowly waking me. "I love you."
"I love you too," I told him. My smile was getting bigger and my world was waking up. I traced the shape of his exhausted eyes. "Close your eyes. Sleep." 
"Mmph." His eyes closed and his body relaxed under my touch. Normally, Bruce was the one to hold me tight and kiss me to sleep, to caress my body and keep me safe. Looking over his body, I realized that he had been through a difficult night of patrol. A stitched gash across his back, an unhappy bruise on his jaw, scratches on his forearms. Worrying about my "condition" probably hadn't helped him stay alert out there in the dangerous night of Gotham. Guilt washed over me. My arms protectively wrapped around my dearest husband, my lips pressing to his forehead. Today, I was going to keep him safe, I was going to comfort him through his slumber.
...
Bruce's snoring wasn't exactly a lullaby, so I was up and about after a few hours. The boys were crashed in their rooms and Alfred was busy baking something that smelled like chocolatey deliciousness. I was looking over the morning paper, again, skimming for any mention of my family or I. Unhealthy habit, you could say. I was curled up in an armchair next to the bed, keeping the rustling of the newspaper pages to a minimum.
Vibrations of Bruce's cell phone made me look up. As silently as I could, I leaped up and grabbed the phone from the bedside table on Bruce's side. My husband's sleep was important to me, and if I had it my way, nothing at all would disturb it, not even nightmares. 
I carried the cell phone out of the bedroom and glanced at the caller ID. Doctor Thompkins. Results. Yes. This wasn't the first time I had answered my husband's phone, so I wasn't going to feel guilt over finding out my own test results. "Hello?"
"(Y/N), hello. I'm calling with your results."
"Tim's been telling everyone in the family it's yellow fever, please prove him wrong."
"Hah, no, it is not yellow fever... I'd say it's something a little more... serious."
I stiffened. My aching back didn't like that. "What's up?"
"We spoke about your history with birth control, but we need to talk about it again. It would seem that there was some window of time where you and Bruce were not using protection."
My backache must've hit my brain, because looking back, I can't believe I didn't catch on. "Bruce gave me a disease?"
"Not a disease. You're pregnant, (Y/N). I can't make an estimate on how many weeks you are, but I'm going to give you the contact information for an OBGYN. Make an appointment as soon as you can. Congratulations, Mrs. Wayne."
...
When Bruce woke up, I had to apologize to him for his cracked cell phone screen. I told him the truth, that I'd dropped it, but I didn't explain that it was from shock. He told me it was alright, that he'd pick up a new one, but he wasn't quite sure why I looked so very upset over dropping his phone. That would explain itself in time.
I didn't eat a thing at dinner that night, despite my full plate and coaxing from my family. Even the finest cut of steak is unappealing when something like that is on one's mind.
Who wouldn't overthink a thing like this? Pregnant, after a literal two months of marriage? Pregnant, while caring for four boys that you saw as your sons? Pregnant, after your husband had told you he didn't want anymore children? Pregnant, after you had both tried to be careful? Pregnant, to one of the greatest vigilantes and most successful businessmen in the world? Pregnant. I am pregnant. I might have my husband's baby.
"Mom!"
My head jerked up and I was greeted by five concerned faces. 
"Ma, you look like you're in another world," Jason forked a piece of potato. 
"Maybe I am in another world, Jay-Jay." I smiled slightly before standing. Ten eyes observed my every move. 
"Ummi, where are you going?" Damian, the one who I expected would be the least concerned, watched me with huge, worried eyes. 
"I think I need to sleep more. I will see you all tomorrow morning." I kissed every head at the table, my lips lingering on my husband's forehead. He rested his hand on the back of my neck, pulling me down for a gentle kiss. I think he noticed my hesitance, but I didn't stop to think about it or explain. My back only permitted me to walk up the stairs, but if I could've run, I would've.
Once Bruce and the boys had left for their night of patrol, I breathed again. Laying on the bed, clutching my pillow to my chest, trying to rehearse how I would address the situation to Bruce, it took a lot out of me. "Bruce, I need to tell you something," I mumbled. "No... Bruce, we need to talk." 
"Madam, I am not sure if you have noticed, but Master Bruce is not here." Alfred's voice startled me for the second time this week.
"I wish he was. I'm sorry, I'm... practicing." I tried to give my friend a reassuring smile but it came out as a grimace. 
"Good luck, madam," Alfred set down a cup of tea on my bedside table and gave me a genuine Alfred smile. Before he was out of the room, he turned back and looked me dead in the eye. "Master Bruce loves you very much, Madam (Y/N). He would not have married you if he was not ready to take on the unexpected. He will not turn you away when you tell him, so try not to overthink." 
I looked straight back into this wonderful gentleman's eyes. "Thank you."
...
I tried to sleep through the night, I really did. When dawn and my boys arrived, I was still wide awake, not having slept a wink. I trotted down the stairs to the batcave, taking extra care not to trip. Once on the floor, we went through our post-patrol routine of inspecting each one of my boys. First Damian, who shrugged me off several times before allowing me to look over him, then Tim, who accepted my worrying for what it was, then Jason, who pretended to be annoyed for show, then Dick, who looked over me as carefully as I looked over him, then finally Bruce, who would not stop kissing me, barely giving me a chance to check him for injuries. 
No one was truly hurt, but all but one were tired as they pulled off their suits. The boys trudged upstairs to their rooms, but my husband carried me valiantly up the stairs to our place in the master bedroom, like a knight carrying his princess.
Once the bedroom door was shut and he had set me down, I was instantly on my back laying on the bed, Bruce's lips showing affection to my neck and collarbone. A soft, throaty moan left my mouth as my husband kissed me, his hands working their way over my body. I was clothed in my favorite outfit of a tank top and leggings, and I knew they were at risk of being torn from my torso and limbs if I allowed this to continue. Besides... I had to tell Bruce. 
"Darling..." the word I said was half-moaned. "Darling, please, you need to shower."
"I thought you liked my scent?" Bruce chuckled, looking up at me, his hands working their way up my shirt. 
"Mmm, I do, but you are going to dirty our sheets that Alfred worked so hard to wash." 
"You have a valid point, but I don't like it." Bruce grinned and pulled off the little clothing he wore. I chuckled and rolled my eyes, watching him make his way to the shower. If I hadn't had such a burden on my mind, I would've joined him. I could hear him muttering insults at the slippery bar of soap that his large fingers always seemed to have trouble grasping, and it made me smile. My hand absentmindedly rested on my stomach and I wondered if his child would have the same troubles as their father.
Bruce's shower was shorter than usual. Much shorter than if I had been in there with him. Chuckling, I made room for my knight in the bed. He hadn't bothered to put on clothes, or dry his hair. Bruce climbed on top of me, drops of water falling from his hair to my chest. His lips reattached to mine, devouring the kiss like a wild man. I knew what he had on his mind from the way he caressed my body, and I had to put a stop to it. 
"Bruce... Bruce, wait." 
Concerned eyes met mine. "(Y/N)?"
Alfred's words replayed in my mind. He would not have married you if he was not ready to take on the unexpected. I stared into the beautiful blue eyes I had grown to take comfort in. "Bruce, Doctor Thompkins diagnosed me."
Instantly, his desire was forgotten. Bruce sat back on the bed and pulled me onto his lap. "Tell me, darling, what is it?"
His arms made me feel so safe. He will not turn you away when you tell him, so try not to overthink. "I... you need to expect the unexpected."
"So I'm guessing it's not yellow fever, since that's what Tim expects," Bruce smiled. The gentle attempt at humor didn't lift the worry in his eyes. 
"Heh, no... not exactly. It's... it's a baby." The last three words were much quieter than the others. 
Bruce looked at me quizzically. "I don't think I heard you correctly." 
"A baby," I honestly voiced my diagnosis, somewhat fearfully looking into his eyes. "I'm pregnant."
Bruce's glare pierced mine. He gently slid me off his lap and set me on the bed before standing and walking to the window to silently stare out of it. His breathing had changed, his body was stiff, everything about him seemed cold and hardened. 
My worst fears bit and tore at my heart, anxiety gripping my throat like a murderer. Oh Lord, he doesn't want me anymore. I didn't know whether to go to him, or leave the mansion, or stay in the bed, or cry, or speak. So I just waited, for a full two minutes, staring at my husband's scarred back. After waiting that long, tears began to prick at my eyes. I finally laid down and curled into the cold sheets. "I'm sorry."
I heard him turn. "What are you sorry for?"
"Not paying attention to my birth control. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," my tears left wet spots on the pillowcase. I closed my eyes tightly. 
Then I felt his weight on his side of the bed, he was laying beside me. Bruce collected me into his arms, tilting my chin up, asking me silently to look at him. I opened my wet eyes. 
"I'm not angry with you. I'm thinking about it. Just let me think." Bruce's rough, calloused fingers brushed against my peach soft cheek.
"Okay." I closed my eyes to fight back angry, hot tears. He pulled me to his chest, holding me to himself. I could practically hear the wheels turning in his head. 
He must've held me like that for an hour before he finally, finally spoke. "Well, this isn't what I thought two months into our marriage would look like." 
My tears had left stains on his chest. Only a surge of bravery made me look up at him. "Yeah."
He looked down at me, smiled, kissed my lips, and I felt my husband's love course through my body. He may have turned me away physically, but he had never turned me away emotionally. I sat up on his lap, straddling him, my forehead resting on his, my hands on his cheeks. "I love you."
"And I love you," Bruce's fingers brushed against my waist. He seemed hesitant, and his eyes met mine. "May I?"
I was confused for a moment, but then I realized and nodded, beaming. "Yes."
His large hand rested on my stomach. The wheels in his head were still turning, but they had calmed, and they were only turning in the name of love. 
"Expect the unexpected." 
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lchufflepuffcorn · 1 year
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Murmurs of life
Warning: Pregnancy, fluff... that'll be all.
Word count: 1, 164k
Author's note: I hate this, took me ages, I don't like it and I really don't like talking about early pregnancy.
Masterlist OG Writing Masterlist
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Soft hands caressing your skin hidden under the covers. Breathless kisses and secret whispers, promises, ushered in the dark of the night. In the anonymity of your bedroom chamber, it was the most affection Keigo would offer you. You're used to the surprising softness the Winged Hero could provide in moments of calmness.
Most days, you sleep in a cold bed, after all.
You don't blame Keigo for his absence, not when he works to apologize for those lonely times when he comes back home. It's not his fault he got caught up in shit at such a young age. And he only wants what's best for you. Which, in this instance, is not to be known by the public.
"It would be a bore." He said once when you asked.
That had been another date spent at home, a nice homemade dinner and the preview of a soon-to-be-released movie he obtained you-didn't-know-how. And at this point, was it worth it to ask?
"Why?" You'd asked while putting the dinner plates away after drying them.
He sighed and placed the sponge back in the sink before turning to you.
"Cuz there'll be journalists everywhere, and we'd have to move again, and my manager would probably try to use you to use me or something…"
His perpetually unbothered face scrunched in disgust, and his shoulders bent forward in a bad posture you were trying to rid him of. The memory of your rushed move three months prior is still fresh in his mind. So many camera flaunting him while you cleared out of the apartment building from the back. Not an experience he wished to redo so soon.
You had only nodded and changed the subject. Again.
But now, in the darkness of your cold bed, only the memory of warm hands on your body to overthrow the heavy feeling resting in your stomach could help you get through your day off. One that you'd spend alone. Again. Hadn't Keigo said it was off today too? Welp, what was new. Of course, they would pull Keigo out of his vacations to work.
The necklace sporting one of Keigo's feathers flew centimetres away from your face, trying its mighty best to get you up and start your day. Without much luck as it seemed. Gently pulling on its rope to incite you to rose, it soon fell back in its place just below your breast, inert.
It shuddered and started to float again. Tugging twice, it let itself fall back toward your stomach and nuzzled. (Y/N) raised one of her eyebrows and moved to push the feather away, but it came back and swatted her hand in retaliation. It began to shake as if taken in a panicked frenzy or excitement. (Y/N) didn't think much of it. Sometimes, when Keigo worked, its feathers followed his movements.
Making her way toward the kitchen, (Y/N) started her day, as she usually did, stirring her coffee, opening the TV, and placing the news channel as background sound. The woman started prepping the ingredients for her breakfast, something with fruits and eggs… and olives, because why not. The feather shivered again, nuzzling closer to her stomach.
"More news coming from the arrest happening earlier this morning. We now have confirmation that the suspect was, in fact, part of the group attacking Ms. Takamori this summer. Authorities did not reveal the suspect's name. And as a matter of privacy, to quote the agent in charge, refused the journalists." Said the commentator, a hand covering his ear. Behind him, the visual showed a busy street, many police cars and the familiar red wings flashing for a brief moment before disappearing.
Preferring to skip the drama for today, (Y/N) changed the channel and turned to her preparation once more. The Takamori attack made headlines after the poor woman was found by a bypasser beaten up in an alley. Terrible thing.
The apartment's door opened with a bang, and a burst of air surprised the woman as two arms wrapped around her middle, gently pulling her to a muscular but warm surface. Only two people had the apartment's key, herself and…
"Keigo!" She laughed, swatting the part of his chest she could easily access.
"Are you alright?" Asked the figure, shaking her shoulder. A face rested in the junction between her neck and shoulder as the question echoed against her skin.
"Yes, why?"
"You're heartbeat's all messed up. It's been like that for days now…"
(Y/N) shrugged, continuing her preparation. Silence floated around her and Keigo for a moment before he talked again.
"Can I listen again?"
There was a beat of silence where (Y/N) looked over the raw scrambled eggs before her, making turning his question in her head, trying to make sense of it. "To my heartbeat?" She asked, turning her head to look at Keigo.
"Yeah!" He responded, raising his head from its perch. He turned to look at her expectantly.
"You do your thing." Said (Y/N), dislodging from his arms. "I thought you were working today…"
Situating a big hand right over her throat, covering the fluttering of (Y/N)'s heart, the other covering her belly, right over the feather necklace, silence is the only answer Keigo gives her. His ear is awkwardly placed against her back, which can't be comfortable, but she doesn't say anything. Breathing deeply and leaving her body to be supported by her lover as he listens to the echo of her heart, (Y/N) closed her eyes. The scent of eggs was starting to heavily hang around her, making her stomach turn in disgust.
"I don't think I want eggs anymore." She whispers to no one in particular. Keigo only hums against her shoulder.
"I'll make something else." There's a pause. "Did you feel, I don't know, weird those past couple of days?" He asks finally.
(Y/N) thought for a moment, scanning her memories for any inconvenience she could have felt. The back pains shooting near her hips and spine came to mind, but that was usual. The headaches too, but they'd become more frequent those past weeks. The nausea was new, but she'd been stressed by her work lately. Nevertheless, (Y/N) related all those to Keigo, who only hummed.
"What about the thing I asked you to do?" He asked finally, moving away from her gently yet still keeping a hand on the small of her back.
It was her turn to hum. "Forgot it. It's in the bathroom, I think. I was in a rush yesterday…"
Keigo slapped her ass playfully, then kissed her lips when she turned to chide him. "Go check on that. I'll make something else to eat."
A short moment passes before a clatter can be heard, and giggles and sobs echo in the apartment, (Y/N) comes back jogging toward Keigo and jumps in his arms.
"We did it, Keigo, we did it."
"I know!" He laughs.
In the bathroom, the pregnancy test forgotten on the counter shows two pink lines.
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Lucifer Morningstar x Pregnant!Reader Headcanons
As much as dear Lucy and reader enjoyed themselves in this headcanon post, I can't help but imagine such activities might lead to Charlie become a big sister, so I put some headcanons together for such a situation. I know that Sinners can't get pregnant as canon currently stands, so I typically employ either the Rules of Fanfic or I imagine reader is a living human that ended up in Hell through magic shenanigans (will elaborate with a prompt post once I've got the spoons), though of course you're free to imagine them as Hellborn or whatever suits your fancy!
Warnings: Pregnancy Mention, Implied Smut
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- He's insistent you see the Royal Physician as soon as you start experiencing symptoms, but he's not at all prepared for the diagnosis you bring back, and he might need you to repeat it a few dozen times. You're pregnant? With a baby? And it's his? He put a baby in you? You're going to have his baby? An actual baby? He's going to be a dad again?! So goes the conversation for a good ten or so minutes, and suffice to say he's far from calm once the news finally does sink in. Given that the two of you had assumed that an angel and a mortal couldn't reproduce, this is more than an unexpected surprise, and Lucifer knows all too well how much of a fuss this will create from Hell's lowest ring all the way up to Heaven. That's to say nothing of how Charlie might take the news...
- Once the initial panic fades, after a solid hour or so, he gathers himself and focuses on setting a course of action. A very important decision needs to be made. He says it's up to you, but upon being asked what he'd like to do, the King of Hell surprises himself and answers without hesitation that he'd love to have this baby with you. He's surprised because he knows better than anyone that it will be challenging, but he can't deny how much he wants it regardless. Having Charlie was the greatest thing he'd ever done, and the thought of another little bundle makes his heart swell in ways he can barely describe, but ultimately he'll support whatever decision you make. Carrying a half-Archangel is no easy feat... Hearing that you want the same and intend to carry through is enough to make him lift you clear off the ground in a spinning airborne embrace, wings fluttering like a hummingbird as he breaks out into a celebratory musical number or two. He can't wait to be a dad all over again!
- If you thought he pampered you before, you were wrong. He doubles the amount of servants at your call, ensures there's always a physician available at a moment's notice, and hires a full team of chefs to cook whatever you might crave at any hour of the day. From beginning to end, he doesn't want you to want for anything, and the man knows a thing or two about spoiling, and he goes all out to ensure you're surrounded by comfort at all times. That's to say nothing of his own personal dedication to more or less worshiping your existence. Even the tiniest indication of pain or discomfort has him leaping to your assistance. Backrub? Footrub? Full body massage? You name it, he's quite happy to provide. If it wasn't such a cliche he'd be rather happy to feed you grapes from a golden platter. His efforts are borne from the deep sense of pride he feels every time he looks at you and thinks of how incredible it is that he's with you, that you're carrying his child, and that the two of you are bringing something quite wonderful and unique into existence. Said pride fully extends to the public view, where he doesn't hesitate to show you off and humbly brag to anyone that will listen about the news.
- You'll also find that as protective as he was before, he doesn't even hesitate to get his fangs out now, not that many in Hell are stupid enough to mess with the King's beloved. He expects you to be treated with the highest levels of respect, and if he can't accompany you somewhere, he'll insist on an armed escort to keep you safe. This fear isn't completely unfounded, as there are some willing to risk everything for an upper hand on Lucifer, but he's got ample experience keeping the opportunists at bay. He did the same when Lilith was expecting Charlie.
- Speaking of Charlie, the only thing that gives him any kind of hesitation is his fear that she might take the news poorly. Though she took your relationship well, what if she isn't thrilled about a younger sibling? With their relationship so recently repaired, he fears she might worry about being replaced or pushed aside, and he doesn't know how to reassure her that nothing will ever make him love her less. Thankfully, with her boundless kindness and eternally upbeat personality, the Princess of Hell puts his worries to rest as soon as she gets the news. In fact, she reacts much the same way her father did; a massive hug and a delighted musical number, albeit with far more happy sobbing. She promises through tears that she'll be the best big sister Hell has ever seen, and that she simply can't wait.
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spaghettiposts · 5 months
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Unspoken Truths
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Summery: You and Wanda have been friends for years, but never once has she showed up at your doorstep in this state. Pregnant, alone, and hurt. You take her in and you both dive into the difficulties of pregnancy, and hiding feelings.
Warnings: Pregnancy, Dickhead Vision, Friends to lovers, Attempts at comedy, Reader being a sweetheart like always, Mutual Pinning, Faint talks of Abortion, talks of nausea and vomiting.
Words: 4k
There was a knock at the door. Which was weird since it was- what time was it? 
Your arm reached for your phone resting on the bedside table. 2:04 am. Your brows furrowed in confusion, feeling discomfort. Who would be knocking at your door at 2 in the morning? Wiping your eyes you rose to your feet, questioning if this was really worth getting up for. 
Slowly you found your courage, and a baseball bat in your hands. You stumbled through the hallway, trying to wake yourself up to face the potential threat at your door. You felt like you were walking right into a classic horror scene, was it Ghostface maybe? Nah he’d call, you think. 
Through the peephole you saw the last person you’d ever expect at this ungodly hour.
“Wanda?” You yawned, hand still on the door. “It’s 2 in the morn- Woah.” You grunted in surprise as her arms wrapped around your waist, instinctively you wrapped your arms around her too. Your surprise quickly shifted into concern at her small sniffles, the brunette tightly gripping at your shirt. “Wanda? What’s wrong?”
The girl in your arms said nothing, merely shaking her head against your shirt. You took that as your cue to close the door behind you, leading Wanda inside. Not once did you separate from her, allowing her to cling onto you. Despite the circumstances you couldn’t help the blush from rising. 
Unfortunately you don’t dwell on how nice it feels to be hugging Wanda, not now, not when she’s still crying. Removing an arm around her, you place it on the small of her back. “Why don’t we go sit on the couch?” 
It’s then that Wanda realizes her current position, she takes a shuddering breath, agreeing with a nod of her head. You ignore the flutter in your chest from the way her grip tightened on your forearm as you lead the way. 
When you sit on the couch Wanda follows suit, sitting a safe distance away from you. You figure she’s composing her thoughts from the way she plays with the rings on her fingers. 
Without thinking you reach for her hand, missing the way her breath hitches from the contact. “What’s wrong Wanda? You can tell me.” 
The brunette looks up at you through tearful eyes, she only feels herself tear up further by the look you give her. An adoring look, a soft comforting smile. It hurts to look at, it hurts even more when your eyebrows furrow. 
“You don’t have to talk about it if it’s bothering you so much…” You add, she’s quick to wipe her eyes and take a deep breath.
“Y/n, I’m pregnant.” She sighs out, feeling some relief. She cringes at the way your eyes widen in surprise. Now you were certainly awake.
Out of all the things Wanda would say, that was certainly not one you would’ve predicted. Pregnant. Of course you could see Wanda being a mom but you recalled her mentioning how she’d like to finish college first.
Clearly…that didn’t happen.
“I just found out.” Wanda let out one of many sighs to come, rubbing her swollen eyes with her hoodie sleeves. She leaned back on the couch, giving you a forced smile.
You remained flabbergasted. Pregnant.
Wanda was pregnant. And came to you. For comfort? Advice? A secret revelation that your love for her was strong enough to get her pregnant? That last one was still part of your sleepy brain talking. 
You had many questions, the most important one was where was the father? You assumed Vision was the father, at least. Even if part of you didn’t like that idea so much. 
Taking in consideration how the brunette arrived at your house, with red bloodshot eyes, and tear stains on her cheeks from crying so much. You worded your next question carefully. “I’m assuming it’s bad?”
A watery laugh escapes her lips, she shakes her head in disbelief. “Bad is an understatement.” And although she’s laughing, her eyes continue to water until she’s tired of pretending everything’s going okay. Her crying turns to sobs, leaning against you for support again. This time you don’t disconnect, letting her rest her weight on you.
You stare up at the ceiling, Wanda laying on your chest having fallen fast asleep. The couch is comfortable enough to make you feel better, but not enough to silence your worries for the woman on top of you. Unsure of what to think you simply conclude it’s best if you don’t, not right now. 
Letting out a deep breath, you close your eyes, tightening your arms around the girl.
Tomorrow, tomorrow you could talk about it.
/-/
It was tomorrow, and you were dreading talking about it. It’s not even yours, chill out, you reminded yourself. First thing you woke up to was an empty couch, with just you laying on it. Where was Wanda?  Rubbing your eyes to wake up fully you noticed the small sticky note on your arm. 
Turning it around revealed Wanda’s whereabouts.
I wanted to make you breakfast, so I went to the market. Your pantry sucks ♥️ 
Okay, breakfast. You loved Wanda’s meals, you figured the least you could do was clean up the kitchen for her. Forcing yourself to get up you threw your arms over your head, letting your back pop. Looking towards the kitchen in all honesty it didn’t look too bad. 
Just some pots that needed to be cleaned, remove the grease. A bag of flour on the counter…you didn’t quite remember why and how that was there. And a sock on the stovetop, you held it up in disgust. When did that get there? 
Feeling embarrassed for yourself, you got to work. Quickly. Socks were placed in the hamper. Flour, back in the pantry in its designated compartment. Then you dropped some flour, falling all over yourself and the items around you.
“Great…” you muttered, eying all the powder on the floor. 
Sweeping it is. 
Aside from the mess, and making more of a mess things went quite smoothly. You were satisfied with your work, the kitchen looked like a kitchen again. However pots still remained, making quick work of them you rinsed them off. 
Not noticing how the front door opened and a certain brunette looked your way. She smiled fondly at the small cusses you let out, shaking your hand from the hot water. Carefully she placed down all the grocery bags, a little louder than she intended.
“Oh shit!” You gasped, dropping the pot. “Wanda! You scared me.” You chuckled, turning off the tap, you could finish washing that later.
“You bought a lot…” You pointed out, drying your hands. Six paper bags were on the table, you were very glad you took time to clean it. 
Wanda snorted, unloading the frozen products from one bag. “Y/n you didn’t even have tomatoes. Absolutely no produce.” 
You rolled your eyes. You never cooked much, tomatoes would’ve gone bad under your care. Wanda on the other hand lived for cooking. A perfect balance in your opinion, she could cook, and you could taste. You walked over, taking the frozen foods from her hands to put them away, ignoring the pointed look.
She muttered something about your organizational skills—lack of. Probably a complaint.
“How much was it?” You asked from the freezer.
Does cheese go in there?
“It’s on me.” She shrugged, opening the onions and placing them in the basket. Her nose crinkled watching you attempt to be useful, gently her fingers wrapped around your wrist, taking the cheese away and putting it in the fridge. 
You let out a shaky exhale from the contact, watching her walk away. Shaking off the feeling you remember her words, scrunching your face. “No Wanda, how much?”  Pulling out your wallet you handed her $120 “Here.”
Wanda laughed, pushing your hand away “No. It’s on me. For last night.”
“Seriously?” You scoffed not believing it, waving the money at her. If she wouldn’t take it you knew you’d have to put it in her purse when she wasn’t looking. Like usual. “Well at least let me cook if you’re not gonna take it.”
“I said I was making breakfast!” She whined. Cute.
You pouted at your friend, stuffing your hands in your pockets. “Yeah but I want to do something…”
Wanda smiled, placing a hand on your forearm. “You’ve done enough for me.” She said, leaning up to place a small peck on your cheek. “Thank you Y/n.”
Your breath caught in your throat, knowing you didn’t win this battle. Of course not, she cheated, but she didn’t know that. She’s with Vision, having no clue of the effects she has on you. You still felt hot on the inside, and were probably blushing on the outside too.
Damnit Y/n pull it together, she’s pregnant and needs your support. Not your gayness.
Once everything was put away, mainly Wanda doing the work and correcting whatever you did wrong. She pushed you down on the chair, telling you to sit while she cooked. Then you could talk, talk.
Right, the talk.
Fuck. 
You wondered why you were still so nervous. Around Wanda? Well that one was given. But a pregnant Wanda? That felt…odd. Nevertheless you gave her, her space not wanting to overwhelm the pregnant person. 
She didn’t look pregnant…obviously. She just found out…hasn't even been a month. God was it hot in this room? Or were you just sweating? Nervous. 
“It is Visions.” You turned your head to look at Wanda. She spoke calmly with a tense figure. She flipped the bacon, turning her eyes to you. “And- You know I didn’t want…kids right now but things happen. We’ve talked about it before and Vision said he’d love that.”
You tilted your head, knowing there was more to it.
She let out a shaky breath “After college, he's still building his business a-and he said he doesn’t have time to raise a family. He wants nothing to do with them but I-“
“Abortion isn’t…?”
“No.” She said firmly, turning off the stove, using her sleeves to wipe her blurred eyes. “Your bacon might be a little salty by the way.” She smiled sadly, handing you a plate with two pancakes.
Seeing past the smile, you squeezed her arm in understanding, grabbing the plate from her hands. She sat down across from you, eating from her own plate giving you the opportunity to do the same. 
“These are great Wands.” You mumbled after swallowing your food, wiping your mouth. “You’d be a good mom.” Digging your fork into the pancakes for more. They were truly delicious, you don’t think you’d ever get used to how spectacular she made them. 
Wanda gave you a scrunched look, a sheepish smile on her lips. “You’re just saying that.” She shrugged it off, ignoring the way it made her feel.
“I'm not though. You’re kind, patient, compassionate, giving, and understanding. Aren't those motherly qualities?” You teased, though your tone remained reassuring. 
Still Wanda remained in disbelief, shaking her head lightly letting out a breathy laugh “I’m just not sure where to go from here. I’m keeping them.” She stared at you, seriously, as if you would try to change her mind. 
“But that’s all I know.” She rubbed her head with her hands, feeling frustrated. She had no plan.
You reached over for Wanda’s hand, rubbing soft circles with your thumb. “It’s okay, we can figure it out together.”
Her mouth curved into a smile, looking at both of your hands. Together, that was a nice word. Then she took in what you said, her head tilting to the side. “We?”
Wanda’s smile turned into a teasing one, as you stammered over your words, tensing your hand from their ministrations. “Well yeah I mean since Vision isn’t really in the picture and you shared the apartment with him I’m assuming- offering if you wanted to stay with me.” You bit the inside of your cheek.
Smooth.  
“It was just a thought I had…” You finished, feeling intimidated by her gaze. Your heart pounded against your chest, waiting for her answer. You had basically just proposed she move in with you, with a kid. Like couples do. With a kid. 
The more you thought about it the more you wanted her to say yes. You wanted to care for her, god knows she needed it. An idea came into your head about rearranging the guest bedroom into Wanda’s, only if she said yes- god we’re getting ahead of ourselves what if she says n-
“Yes.” She blurted, squeezing your hand in excitement, a little harder than intended. 
“Wait- yes?”
“Yes! Oh my god yes,” She practically squealed, standing up from her seat to pace. “I mean I was also thinking about where I’d go…I’m not ready to tell my parents, you know how they feel about pregnancy before marriage, and Pietro already knows but he’s barely thriving.” She gestured with her hands, clasping them together and looking at you expectantly.
You nodded, growing even more excited with her. “Then it’s settled, you’ll stay here.” You beamed up at the brunette. She was quick to pull you out of your chair with a toothy grin, pulling you into a hug. 
You both sighed at the contact, holding each other tighter. 
“Thank you, again.” She mumbled, nuzzling further into your neck. You could only smile, what else could you do? This girl was amazing, you squeezed her back in response. 
“It’s no problem, I’d love having you here. And the kid, or kids? Wouldn’t it be crazy if you had twins- worse triplets.” You mumbled to yourself, Wanda giggled.
Maybe Wanda would need help moving in. Getting her stuff, avoiding Vision. You thought to yourself about skipping work for the day- maybe a week. The guest bedroom had the essentials, but not anything baby related…
As you continued rambling on about the move, Wanda sighed, tugging you closer with a loving smile on her face. Then it dawned on her, was she in love with her best friend? Her eyes widened at the realization, trying to bury her panic and listen to your voice instead. 
You raised a hand to your chin, not noticing how tense she had become. “I think I could skip work today and go to the hardware store. We might need a crib, the guest bedroom is yours but the baby gosh it needs its space too-“ 
/-/
The move had gone smoothly, a little too smoothly. Wanda insisted you stay outside the door to Visions apartment while she took care of things. Reluctantly you agreed standing outside waiting, only coming in when Wanda signaled for you to come in. 
His apartment was quite nice, you could see why Wanda liked it so much. Unsurprisingly his home was decorated with small luxuries, perks of being a Stark.
Boxes after boxes went by packed, you insisted Wanda do the lighter loads, not wanting her to hurt her back. And before noon all of Wanda’s stuff was ready to go, no Vision in sight. He must’ve been busy today, Wanda only muttering something about his Chess club. 
Not wanting to stay any longer you packed up the truck, heading to your place. So in short, yes, everything was going great. Wanda made herself an even more important figure in your life, you didn’t think that was possible. Although she had a way of proving you wrong.
She fell quickly into your daily routine, and so easily too. Every morning she’d make you coffee for work, and when she was feeling sick you made her breakfast in return. Wanda had been getting sick a lot more than usual, you assumed it was morning sickness. If only you had realized sooner how bad it had gotten. 
Wanda could not sleep.
There were days when she’d have nightmares as a kid that prevented her from sleeping, often nightmares of a bomb being dropped on her house. Nights waiting up for Vision where she couldn’t sleep in hopes he’d return soon. Many times in her life Wanda found it difficult to sleep, this time the horrors of pregnancy guiding her to insomnia.
Until she felt that familiar feeling again, nausea. Quickly she threw the covers off herself, booking it towards the bathroom. Wanda was so grateful your guest bedroom had a bathroom connected to it, it had given her more privacy and spared her the embarrassment.
Her fingertips barely grazed on the door to close it before she was kneeling on the floor by the toilet, emptying the compartments in her stomach.
Hunched over on the toilet she didn’t realize how much time had passed, time passed slowly for her during this part. All she remembered was the door creaking a little and her hair being collected into a ponytail.
Wanda swore she could hear your voice, she preferred to focus on how nice your hand felt rubbing on her back, how soothing it felt. Your touch brought her back, wiping the side of her lips she turned to meet your concerned eyes. 
Only turning more concerned by the look of exhaustion Wanda held. Words weren’t necessary to communicate where Wanda would be staying that night, or any other nights. Really, as Wanda was pulled up to her feet, and guided to your bedroom she found herself unwilling to care. You kissed her forehead so tenderly whispering goodnight that made Wanda realize it wasn’t so bad.
Sleeping in your arms was worth a little sickness. 
/-/
“Twins.” You heard Wanda mutter from beside, laying on the bed. You couldn’t quite decipher her tone, but her squeeze on your hand made you feel uneasy. Not wanting to overwhelm her, you decided to keep silent, biting the inside of your cheek. 
Weeks had flown by pretty fast, Wanda being on her 15th. Poor girl was already feeling the pain of carrying not one but two kids in her stomach. She’d often ask you to hold her stomach which you easily complied too. 
The doctor turned in his chair, away from the monitor looking at you both with a grin. “Yep! Looks like two healthy babies, would you like to know the gender?” He asked.
Your eyes glanced at Wanda, her face indifferent. Thankfully you caught the slight quiver of her lips letting you know all you needed to. 
“Uh no. Thank you Doctor Stephen but I think” She squeezed your hand again. “…we’re fine for now.” You mustered up a polite smile. 
He nodded his head, mirroring the same smile “Of course! I’ll just go put this in your file and clean things up then you’re good to go.” He tossed his gloves in the bin, finally leaving you two alone. 
You sucked your teeth, hearing the door click shut. Knowing Wanda, she was never used to change even though throughout her childhood all the brunette did was suffer through it. She liked to be in control, prepared for what to expect.
Now it seemed you were expecting two. 
You let out a small noise as your back hit the chair next to her side. Deciding to break the silence, you spoke calmly, “So twins, I guess that means we might need another crib.”
Her eyes only twitched in response, barely acknowledging the way you tried to subtly cheer her up. Make her feel this wasn’t a sudden change she wasn’t prepared for. The thought of another kid shook Wanda, it made her feel nervous. She fidgeted from her place, picking at the bedsheets.
Wanda shook her head, letting out a sigh. She took her hand off yours, using them to rub her temple. “God I- this wasn’t supposed to happen. Y/n I-“ Her throat closed up, she hated the way her immediate response was to cry, tears starting to prickle at her eyes. She hated even more how your face softened, “I can barely fathom one kid, now I’m supposed to mother two.” 
Her head hung lowly as small tears started to stream down her cheeks. Not wanting you to see her that way she tried her best to turn away only for you to grab her cheeks with both hands, thumbs rubbing soft circles against her skin. Wanda let out a choked sob, staring at you so hopelessly. The sight broke your heart.
“Wanda hey, it’s okay.” You whispered.
“No Y/n I just-  two. That’s two new people coming into your home, and me included- I can’t do this to you. You don’t deserve it.” She croaked out, sniffling between words.
You scrunch your face in protest, giving her a stern shake of your head. “Wanda you’ve always been welcome in my home, pregnant or not and it’s not just mine now it’s yours too. I want to help you.” You affirmed, moving your hands to wipe at her tears before coming down to hold her own.
“Why?” She asked.
“Because I care about you, and I love you.” You confessed, the words coming out with more meaning than you intended. Wanda stared up at you in adoration, her eyes crinkling, and a small blush dusting her cheeks. It was then you noticed how close you were, how close Wanda's face was to your own. Feeling overwhelmed by her stare, you looked away, taking a couple steps back. “And I love them too, whatever they are…”
Missing the disappointed look on her face.
Leaning back into the bed, Wanda turns her head to look at you, and if you were looking back you would’ve seen the loving look on her face “I really don’t deserve a friend like you.” She said softly, her voice so fragile.
Then you turned back this time, meeting her gaze, her words registering in your head. Quickly your face turned into a frown, “Don’t say that.”
Ignoring your words Wanda took a hold of your hand. A gesture that came so naturally now, both of you latching onto each other, wanting to feel one another. “I love you too, so much detka.” 
More than you realize.
/-/
“Y/n.” Wanda murmured hurriedly, shaking at your arm. “Detka, wake up.”
Letting out a snort, you woke up with a cough, turning away to cover yourself. Your eyes fluttered wide open, wrestling with the sheets in a panic, “Huh? Yeah- Wands? What's wrong, are they here?”
A small smile crept up her lips at the mention of the twins, “No silly, I'm just…hungry again.” She whispered, turning away from your gaze in embarrassment.
“Again?” You clarified.
“Yeah…sorry.” She chuckled awkwardly.
Leaning on your elbows for support you lifted yourself up, sitting up. Scratching the back of your head you turned to look at your clock. Naturally it was 2 am, usually the time when Wanda would get hungry. 
“No, no, that's fine.” You muttered hoarsely, clearing your throat. “I don’t mind, what are you craving?” 
“Steves burgers…” She beamed.
“Steves? Okay I’ll get you some, with onions or without?” You said as you walked towards the closet, shrugging on your jacket. 
“With, and grilled please.”
“Okay, yeah.” You hummed, slipping on your shoes. “I’ll uh be back try to get some sleep yeah? It's pretty late.” Kneeling up from the floor you reached for your wallet, stuffing it in your pockets. 
Wanda made a disagreeing grunt but pulled the sheets back on herself anyway. “I guess.”
You nodded, giving her a sheepish smile. Grabbing your keys from the nightstand you made your way to the door, a small tug on your jacket stopping you. Curiously you turned around to meet Wanda, tilting your head in question. Her hand traveled up your forearm, pulling you down to press a lingering kiss on your cheek.  
“Stay safe, and put on your glasses when you drive. Your astigmatism gets bad at this hour.” She husked out, letting you go. 
Your breath catches in your throat, not trusting your words you nod again. Stumbling through a few items you rush towards the door, leaving with a small goodbye unsure why Wanda was teasing you. What was that?
/-/
“Hey.” You said, a surprised look on your face as you closed the door behind you. Wanda gave a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes from the dimly lit dining room. She was sitting comfortably in the chair, wearing one of your hoodies.
“Hi.”
“What are you doing out of bed? You should be resting, it’s really late.” Checking at the clock once again you confirmed your suspicions, you assumed perhaps she’d enjoy her burger in bed like she always does. This time however Wanda had different plans, fiddling with her sleeves.
“You know I can’t sleep without you.” She retorted, gazing into your eyes “I like it when you’re here.” She confesses profoundly.
You give her a sheepish smile, unsure what to say. The look in her eyes does nothing but make you even more nervous, what was going on with her? “I like it when you’re here too. Is everything okay?” 
Wanda lets out a sigh, you choose to ignore it thinking she’s probably starving by now. You place the plastic bag on the table, taking out the bags and giving Wanda her burger. A number 2 with grilled onions, two pickles, and no cheese. “And I got you these.” You slide the container to her.
Wanda gives you a questioning look before opening it, she lets out a gasp when she does. Animal style fries. The annoyed quirk of her eyebrows long gone. Closing the lid she gives you a thankful pout, her eyes glossing.  “Thank you…”
“I got you a strawberry milkshake too since I know you like dipping them with the animal fries.” You chuckled, putting the glass on the table. 
That’s when Wanda wanted to cry, cry pathetically into her perfect burger brought by your perfect, kind, compassionate self. Instead she tossed the burger aside and pulled you in for a passionate kiss. Your eyes widened in surprise, but pressed back with the same intensity, quickly melting into the kiss. 
Wanda sighing against your lips easily became your new favorite sound, eager to get her to make more, your hands coming up to cup her face. Eventually you realize that this isn’t just any girl, but your best friend. Your best friend who you’d have been crushing on for years, your best friend who just kissed you.
She kissed you.
And you almost break the kiss by how much you’re smiling but Wanda beats you to it, leaving lingering kisses on your lips, slowing the pace until her forehead is against yours. “I’m in love with you Y/n.”
Your breath hitches “M-Me too.”
Wanda shakes her head, moving to nuzzle against your collarbone. “No detka, as in more than just a friend.” She says, reminded of your previous statements on what friends do. Fuck being friends, you wanted Wanda. Wanted to show her how good of a partner you could be.
“So you like me?” You asked shyly, still processing the revelation.
Wanda picked up her head from your shoulder, correcting you with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Love you.”
You swallowed dryly, feeling your heart race. “That's great- thats- I.”
“Just kiss me already.” She orders breathlessly, barely giving you time to mutter ‘okay’ before your lips are on hers again. 
It's not until the morning when you both come downstairs, lovesick smiles on your faces, that you realize the mess you left behind. Both burgers remain uneaten, but as your eyes glance down to yours and Wanda's intertwined fingers, you could care less. 
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roosterforme · 1 month
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The Younger Kind Part 55 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley can't get enough of the adrenaline rush that is accompanying his special mission, but he has reached the point where the excitement doesn't outweigh his desire to return home. Every day feels the same for you, until one of them starts to feel much worse.
Warnings: mentions of blood, pregnancy topics, potential pregnancy complications, swearing, angst, fluff, and age gap (18+)
Length: 4300 words
Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader
Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.
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Every day was the same now. Every morning started out with a hopeful feeling in your chest. Your engagement ring was still noticeable on your finger, although you figured that would fade with time as it became a permanent fixture. At first, you woke up to the delicious feeling of being pregnant and engaged to Bradley, but when you rolled over to reach for him, the rest of the bed was cold. The covers were untouched. His pillow was still in the exact same place you left it when you made the bed yesterday.
Tears stung at your eyes. You knew exactly how many days he had been gone, because the updated number was practically all you could think about. The days had become a week. Then two. And now that hopeful feeling was starting to vanish only to be replaced by dread almost immediately after you cracked your eyes open.
You whispered, "I miss you," and climbed out of bed without even looking at the vacant side now. You started to dress in your scrubs without a smile on your face, and then you went into the bathroom which was completely silent. You thought that if you just had an inkling, the barest idea of when Bradley might be returning, you'd feel much better, but you had no clue.
You and Noah had only had one brief conversation with him over the phone. The connection had been pretty bad, and you knew someone was sitting right there with him monitoring every single word. He'd told you that much before his personal phone had been taken away from him the day he arrived. You had to pause as you put toothpaste on your toothbrush, because the tears were going to start if you didn't get yourself under control. 
Bradley had hung up a few post-it notes around the house for you and Noah to find. Most of them were reminders of how much he loved you, but the one on the bathroom mirror took your breath away every time you saw it. It said April 25th with a heart around it. And above that'd, he'd drawn a crown. The fact that you had no idea how much of your pregnancy he was going to miss threw you off every single time. You ran your fingers over the note, but you didn't move it.
"Mommy?" Noah called out, and you heard him jump down from his bed. It was so obvious how much he missed his dad; he was extra clingy with you right now, even shedding a few tears now when you tried to drop him off before you went to work each day.
"I'm in the bathroom," you called out as best you could with your toothbrush still in your mouth. You opened the door so he could come in with you, and he immediately wrapped his arms around your thigh.
"Is it daycare today?"
You spit out the toothpaste and rinsed your mouth. "Yes, Sweet Noah. You have daycare today."
"I want to go to the park with you and Daddy."
That sounded so perfect, you wanted to scream. "As soon as Daddy comes home, we can all spend a whole day at the park. But not today." You didn't even want to tell him that you had to work an extra hour and a half and as a result would be picking him up later than usual. You agreed to cover some extra shifts all week long even though you were tired enough that you'd been passing out in bed right after Noah went to sleep each night. 
When he sniffed and looked up at you with watery eyes, you could barely handle it. Bradley had been gone for less than three weeks, but you were already getting a little desperate. You knew you would feel like a failure if you reached out for help at this point, even though Natasha and Penny had both been texting with you to check in. Bradley even had Tracy emailing you in case you needed anything, and you couldn't decide whether you had to make more friends to get him off your back or simply be appreciative that he cared enough to set things up.
"I know," you whispered to Noah, running your fingers through his soft curls. "But we can make ants on logs later. And we can take Skittles for a nice walk." When you said her name, the pup appeared in the bathroom doorway, her brown eyes also a little sad without her favorite person at home.
"I'm hungry," Noah murmured against your scrub pants. You bent to scoop him up into your arms and carried him to the kitchen where you got breakfast ready for everyone. It was going to be a long day for you, and you'd been so wrapped up in your feelings, you almost forgot you were going to have to see Casey. 
You groaned at the thought of her, and you immediately lost your appetite and scraped your eggs into the dish on the floor for Skittles to enjoy. After you packed yourself a lunch and got Noah ready, you realized you were kind of running late. Everything felt ten times harder when you had to do it all yourself. 
"I don't know how Bradley managed," you whispered as you zipped down the block in your car. A soft smile played at your lips as you thought back to how adorably hopeless he had been when you first met him. He hadn't eaten a good meal in probably months before you started babysitting Noah for him. At least he could cook a little bit now, even if he still couldn't figure out how to use his phone. 
When you took Noah inside his daycare, Casey's eyes were immediately glued to your ring as it shone in the sunlight. She slid the clipboard to you and watched you sign Noah in while you held his hand. Then you knelt down and kissed his cheek and whispered, "I'll pick you up later. I love you."
He smiled, and then you let Casey walk him inside. You stood there long enough to make sure he started to hang up his bag like you always did, and when she walked back out into the lobby, she was smirking. "Did Bradley leave you? He hasn't been here in weeks."
You rolled your eyes as you said, "He's deployed. We've been over this before."
She held up her hands in mock surrender. "I'm just saying, it kind of looks like he left you and Noah in the dust."
"In what world would that man leave Noah?" you practically shouted. 
"That's true," she replied with a smile. "Bradley would never leave his adorable son, but I could see him ditching you and your make believe baby."
You rubbed your temples and took your phone out of your pocket to check the time. You'd barely make it to work before the first patient if you didn't leave right now, but you couldn't help yourself. "I'm done, Casey. I've had enough. Which of the owners is here today? Because I'm not going to listen to you talk to me like this for one more minute."
Her face went ghostly white and she muttered something that you couldn't quite make out. "Speak up," you snapped. "Or apologize to me and don't bother talking to me again unless it's completely necessary."
"Sorry."
"Great," you told her loudly. "Have a great day, and when I pick Noah up later, just keep your mouth shut."
You took in the stupid looking expression on her face before you turned to leave, storming out the door and across the parking lot to your car.
---------------------------
It didn't take Bradley long to get used to the sleek controls and seductive design of the sixth-generation fighter jet that everyone appropriately referred to as Shadowhawk. By the second morning on base in Yokosuka, Admiral Palmer was singing Bradley's praises. He showed up early and did as he was told, hoping to spend as much time in the air as he could each day.
It was an adrenaline rush every single time. He was going substantially faster than he ever did in a Super Hornet, and all of his readouts were being recorded. He had to pass a quick physical and stress test every morning before he was allowed to fly, and then he was hooked up to monitoring equipment and let loose. He and Shadowhawk were flying the same loop far out over the pacific ocean at insanely high altitudes, and each time he fell a little bit more in love with being in the air. He could maneuver through rolls and dive into an attack formation faster than he could even imagine. 
When he was flying, it was easy enough to focus on the task at hand. He knew if he wasn't one hundred percent focused, it would be dangerous. He might not snuff out the launched missile in time with his flares or his guns. He might lose sight of his targets. But as soon as he had any sort of mental reprieve, he was thinking about you and Noah and Skittles and his bungalow tucked away on a side street in Coronado.
"Fuck," he muttered as he unloaded from Shadowhawk one day just as the sun was setting. He was drenched in sweat and exhausted, and all he could think about was taking a shower with you before dragging himself off to his king size bed that always smelled like wildflowers and falling asleep in your arms. He let the peripheral staff detach all of the cables and heart monitor from his flight suit before he found an officer who spoke English. "Is there time for me to make a phone call tonight?" he asked. 
It was about three o'clock in the morning in California, and he knew he wouldn't be able to talk to Noah, but he was dying to hear your voice. He knew he'd wake you up, but the ache was so strong, he absolutely needed to if he could. He'd been allowed to make exactly one call so far, and that was already more than two weeks ago.
All he got in response to his question was a quick shake of his head. "Tomorrow," she responded. That's what they told him every day. The lack of communication felt like a prison sentence at times, but there wasn't much he could do but accept it. All of the data they were collecting as well as Shadowhawk itself were considered proprietary and top secret. He practically had to sign his life away every day before he was allowed to touch the thing.
"Tomorrow," he repeated. "But will it actually be tomorrow? Or does that mean a week from now?"
"Tomorrow," she said more firmly, and he thanked her quietly before heading up to the tower to debrief with the admirals. There wasn't much else he could do.
The next day was a lot more of the same, and the routine was starting to grate on his nerves now. The aircraft still felt incredible, beyond his wildest dreams. He was still happy to be here, but at the same time, he was ready to go home now. They weren't giving him any updates on the progress of this assignment or when it might end, so he just decided to approach Admiral Palmer directly.
"Sir, I'd really appreciate a ten minute phone call, if that can be arranged." Once again, it was the middle of the night for you, but Bradley needed it.
The older man eyed him closely and cleared his throat. "It's a liability, Lieutenant. I'm sure you can understand that."
Bradley felt his fingers flex into fists at his sides. "Sir, someone would be monitoring me the entire time. And I'm just asking to talk to my fiancée and my son. That's it. Any time of any day."
The answer of, "There's no guarantee," did not sit well with Bradley. He had to bite his lip until he was tasting blood to keep himself from talking out of order, but he was sure the other man could read the frustration on his face and in his posture. "Maybe a very brief call, but we could be wrapping up our preliminary testing on Shadowhawk any day now. Either way, I'm sure you'll be able to finish out this temporary assignment like a professional."
Bradley swallowed down every retort that came to his mind, saluted Admiral Palmer, and left for his tiny room in the barracks. But another week passed, and Bradley knew there was no end in sight. And perhaps no phone call either. 
-------------------------
"Is this normal though?" you asked Natasha over the phone one night after Noah was in bed. You'd thought about taking a long bath, but you were so tired from working late almost every day, you could barely hold yourself up. You were already in bed at 8:45 with your phone pressed to your ear. "I haven't heard from Bradley in almost a month."
The words made a lump form in your throat. It was actually twenty-two and a half days since he'd called. You needed to hear his voice. Noah was asking for him nonstop, and he had missed your most recent checkup with your obstetrician. The whole thing had been such a blur during your lunch break without him there, and you wanted to show him the new ultrasounds.
"Well, I don't think this assignment is exactly normal, you know?" she replied. "On a regular deployment, you'd be able to talk to him almost weekly. But this is something else altogether."
You made a soft sound. There had to be a way to make the time pass faster. If you didn't have to get Noah by six o'clock every day, you would try to pick up more hours at work. Maybe this weekend you could start cleaning up the extra bedroom that you and Bradley decided would become the nursery. You already promised Noah that you'd take him shopping for a Halloween costume, so at least that would entertain him for a little while. 
"Thanks, Natasha," you murmured to Bradley's best friend.
"Hey, if you need a little break this weekend, I'd be more than happy to come over and play with Noah on Saturday or Sunday," she said, and you sighed in relief.
"That actually sounds fantastic. I'll call you."
You ended the call a minute later, curling up in a ball of exhaustion as you tried to imagine where Bradley was and what he was doing. You were tired now as you tried to do the math to determine what time it was in Japan. Was he sixteen hours ahead of you? Something like that? You yawned and fell asleep with your phone on the pillow next to your head.
Then you heard your ringtone blaring in your ear, and you almost fell out of the bed as you realized your phone was so close to you. RESTRICTED CALLER. "Oh my god," you gasped, trying to answer the call while you saw that your battery was down to four percent because you never plugged it in. "Bradley?!"
"Princess."
"Bradley!" You climbed out of bed, your body immediately shivering as you were exposed to the cool air. Your nerves were frayed as you plugged your phone in and asked, "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, Baby. I'm so sorry I woke you up."
"It's okay!" you said, your voice sounding more like a sob as you sat on the floor. "I've been so worried about you."
His voice was a deep, familiar rumble as he said, "I've got five minutes. Tell me everything."
"We miss you, Daddy," you said, rubbing your hand low on your belly which was starting to feel a little tender as you got closer to thirteen weeks along. "Noah asks for you all the time. The baby looked good at the last appointment. But your best friend, Skittles, is barely holding it together."
"I missed your appointment," he said, his voice strained with emotion. "I should have been there."
"It's okay," you whispered. "We're doing okay." But you weren't. You and Noah thrived when you had his attention. You felt loved when he was home to hold you and whisper plans about the future until you fell asleep each night. "I just thought you'd be able to call more often."
"Me too," he said in a tone that sounded both annoyed and resigned.
"Do you know when you'll be home?" you asked in as hopeful a voice as you could manage.
"Soon, Princess. Soon. Now tell me everything about your appointment."
You gave him more details as you shifted around on the floor, and you told him that Noah painted a picture for him. Then you heard someone on his end of the call telling him that it was time to go, and you wanted to scream that it wasn't enough. But instead you let the tears fall down your cheeks, thankful that you at least knew he was safe. 
"I love you, Bradley."
"I love you too, Princess. I'll be home before you know it."
You dried your tears and climbed back into bed, and even though you weren't able to fall asleep again, you felt so much better. Your imagination drifted to thoughts of the baby in the nursery, all of you curled up on the floor for story time together. You would start getting the room ready this weekend.
On Saturday, you took Noah to the Halloween warehouse store that seemed to pop up overnight. "You have to hold my hand," you reminded him as he reached for every single display in the crowded store. There were so many aisles, this would probably take up your entire morning with him. He was keeping a running list of options that he liked for trick-or-treating, and you had to keep reminding yourself not to check the price tags. You'd put whatever he wanted on your princess credit card and call it a day.
"Mommy, let's all be dinosaurs," he said, pointing to a costume in his size. 
You glanced around the area and said, "They don't have any in my size. Can we pick something else?"
"I want you and Daddy to dress up, too," he whined, and you didn't want to have to tell him that you weren't sure if Bradley would be home in the next week and a half to accommodate that wish. 
"Well, I will definitely dress up with you, okay? Let's pick something out where you and I can match."
But he wasn't going to be deterred. He was demanding that all three of you match along with Skittles. You walked around the entire store twice before you found an option that he agreed upon, and you were smiling as you gathered the costumes in all of the necessary sizes. "This is perfect, Sweet Noah," you said as you looked at the costume for Bradley and laughed. You just hoped he would be back in time to wear it. If not, maybe you could ask Maverick. 
The sky was starting to look overcast, so you took Noah home for lunch and didn't feel too bad about keeping him inside for the afternoon, especially when it started raining. You set him up with his array of coloring books at the kitchen table and then went to investigate the extra bedroom. Nobody ever slept in there, so it was a bit dusty. There was basically no furniture besides the bed and an old desk, but it was cozy and perfect for what you had planned. 
Your muscles were sore from standing at work, and you were so tired, but you started moving the bed anyway. You'd have to tell Dr. Kelly and the others that you were pregnant soon. It was time now, but you kept putting it off, enjoying the secret that only you and Bradley really knew about. Plus it still got under your skin a little bit when you considered that other people would have a knee jerk reaction to the timeframe of when you got engaged compared to when you got pregnant. 
"It's none of their business," you whispered to yourself as you walked to the kitchen to check on Noah every few minutes. Then you went back to the bedroom and cleaned, moved things around and took measurements. "How big are cribs, anyway?" you mused before looking up some dimensions online. "Pretty big." 
It took some creativity, but you thought you'd finally sorted out where everything should go. Then you moved Bradley's random junk from the closet to the attic, wiping the sweat from your face with each trip. You kicked your way through the boxes where you'd found the USB drive with the video he made with Meredith. At first you grimaced and thought you might cry, but then you remembered the way he had smashed the stupid thing to bits in the backyard. You wanted him to come home. You needed him to. 
"Mommy?" Noah called out, luring you back into the kitchen. You were a mess, and when you noticed how much he was yawning, you silently rejoiced. 
"It looks like you could use a nap," you said as you kissed the curls on top of his head. He scrambled up into your arms and hugged you, such a tiny reminder of his dad, and you carried him off to his room. After a few stories, he was asleep as the rain picked up a little bit, and you knew this would be the perfect time to take a shower.
You moved Skittles' bed into Noah's room temporarily, and coaxed her in with a treat. "Keep him company in case he wakes up," you whispered, and she walked around in a circle on the plush cushion before settling in. Her crooked, purple bow made you smile. Everything in this house made you smile and think about Bradley. You knew he'd have even more ideas about a theme for the nursery, but you started to scroll through some inspiration online as the shower warmed up for you.
The water ended up feeling better than you anticipated. Your shoulders were sore. Your hips were sore. Every part of your body was aching. It seemed it didn't matter how much you were sleeping, you were still exhausted all day long. Maybe Dr. Kelly would reduce your hours and give you a break. You thought about sneaking home one afternoon a week to take a long nap before going back out to pick Noah up. Then you thought about how Casey hadn't said a single word to you since you told her you were going to her boss. Then you smiled. 
You were squeaky clean when you got dressed again in some old sweats and headed to the kitchen. Your stomach was growling, and you desperately wanted some coffee. "One cup is okay," you whispered, turning on Bradley's fancy machine while you made yourself a snack. You'd been meticulous about how much caffeine you were drinking, and Bradley helped by bringing home only decaf from the coffee shop. You downed the cup, and it was hot and delicious, and almost immediately you had to pee again. 
Your doctor told you that was normal as the baby grew and started to stretch things out. You passed Noah's bedroom door where both he and Skittles were still sound asleep as the rain splattered against his window, and then you went to the bathroom. When you wiped, the toilet paper caught your eye, and your hand started to shake. Pink. Blood. Just a little bit, but there was blood. 
"Oh no," you gasped, a dizzy spell overtaking your body. You'd read about this in your textbooks, and you knew it could happen, but you'd blocked it out of your mind when it came to yourself right now. You didn't want to be an example. You had to grip the toilet seat with one hand to keep steady as you wiped yourself again. There was more blood, a little bit less pink and more red this time. 
Your own breathing was too loud. It was echoing through your mind and through the bathroom, and you wanted to throw up. You eased yourself onto the floor and started to panic. The baby. What if something was happening to the baby? "No," you whispered, trying to ground yourself. Using the edge of the tub, you pulled yourself slowly to your feet, your head spinning more with every inch you moved. "No," you said louder. 
When you were standing on your own, you had yourself almost convinced you'd imagined it. You didn't feel bad. You were just a little sore. There couldn't be anything wrong. You reached for another piece of toilet paper and wiped, but the result was the same. 
Where was your phone? Who were you supposed to call? You walked around in circles around the house while your heart thudded a sickening rhythm in your chest. You paused, unable to locate your phone and convinced you were going to throw up. After you backtracked to the extra bedroom, you found it and unlocked it.
Natasha's name was right there in your recent calls, and you tapped on it before you could even fathom what you were going to tell her. 
"Hi," she said brightly when she eventually answered. "Want me to come over and play with Noah so you can take a break for a little bit?"
"Please," you gasped. "Please come over. Right now."
She must have sensed something in your voice, because hers turned serious as she assured you she was on her way. While you waited for her, you wiped yourself again and again before you made yourself wait in the living room instead of the bathroom. When she walked inside with dripping wet hair and concern on her face, you said, "Noah is still napping. I need to take myself to the emergency room."
----------------------------
Get to the hospital, Princess. This kind of scenario is very real and has happened to me. I will tread as carefully as I can. Please don't scream at me. We will hear from a doctor in the next chapter. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 56
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buckyalpine · 10 months
Text
Bucky feral over pregnant reader
Pure pregnancy fluff and filth. This was meant to be pure fluff and then as usual, I got carried away, idk why I decided to make it this dirty. 
I can’t get over Bucky being obsessed with you carrying his baby. Yes he’s excited to be a dad but there’s something about the fact that it’s you. You’re pregnant because of him, it’s his little one in your perfect belly. Every tiny change he notices in your body makes him swoon from, from your swollen achy feet to your tender breasts, and your slightly plumper cheeks. 
He fucking loves it. 
Your his baby mama and nothing else matters, he’s so proud and in love with you. The swell of your tummy makes his heart beat faster, and the more it grows, the more irresistible he finds you.
“You’re carrying my baby” he coos, wrapping his hands around your tummy while you stand in the kitchen grabbing a snack. He’s happy to cradle the little bump in his arms, easing some of the tension from your back, doing anything to help you feel better. He’s such a lovesick puppy, always looking at you with heart eyes and it doesn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the team. 
“Look, he’s going it again” Sam whispered to Steve, the both of them watching Bucky watching you flit around the kitchen with his chin resting on his hands, sighing, enamored with how pretty you are with your cute little waddle. 
“Does he plan on moving any time soon?”
“Nope” 
Bucky is so busy admiring you, he doesn’t realize the team has started timing records for how long he just sits and watches because they find it utterly and disgustingly adorable. 
He wants to make love to you the entire time, every hour if possible but mama also needs her rest so he doesn’t try to tire you out. That doesn’t mean he keeps his hands to himself, especially when you’re extra hormonal and needy. 
“I got you, mama” He soothes you, pulling your soaked cotton panties off and pulling up your oversized shirt over your belly, his hands gently holding onto your hips and he pushes himself inside. He loves this position with your thighs spread apart, belly on full display, watching your face contort with pleasure, watching his cock thrust in and out of your dripping cunt.
It takes everything in him not to cum instantly, fucking his pretty, very pregnant girl, knowing he knocked her up, it’s his cum that has her all round and perfect, their love making that’s giving him a family. 
“Fuck mama, m’gonna cum” He can’t help the whine and whimper of his voice, muscles tensed from trying to hold back but he can’t, your body is so warm and soft, “S’too much, balls feel to heavy, you make my cock so sensitive, s’all fucked up, I can’t-f-fuuckk” His hips stutter and he’s  spilling ropes of his creamy spend into you, already thinking of getting you pregnant immediately after. 
He can’t resist you even when you’re asleep. 
“Jamie” you whine, your futile protests turning into a needy moan when you feel his tongue brush over your clit, his head between your legs, the time on the clock 1:15AM. 
“Please mama? Wanna make you feel good pretty baby, you deserve it” He just had to get a taste and he doesn’t relent till his beard is soaked and your a shaky, trembling mess. He suckles and nurses off your clit like it’s keeping him alive, pumping his fingers in and out of you till your eyes roll all the way back and your voice is cracking from screaming. 
Your pregnancy has made him down right filthy and feral. Like when you finished up your shower, wrapped in nothing but a towel that barely covered anything. Bucky was sitting on the bed with a book in his hands, the story now long forgotten when he sees you sitting by the vanity, applying your lotion. You let the towel drop to the floor, now bare naked while rubbing silky cream onto your sensitive skin. 
“Fuck, y’can’t do that doll” Bucky groans, his eyes trailing to your peaked buds down to your stretch marks and plush thighs, the soft rolls of your back making him feral, something he desperately wants to grab and squeeze them in his hands. “Let me help you, mama” 
He’s about to set his book down but you can’t help but tease him, shaking your head instead. 
“Y’know I can do this myself baby, I need to move around, doctors orders” 
He knows you’re right but that doesn’t stop all his blood rushing down to his now aching cock, screaming for attention. He palms himself, hoping it’d be enough to calm down but nope. You start to massage your swollen breasts, the smirk on your face shows you know what your doing. His cock ends up in his hand, book thrown aside, chest heaving up and down. 
“Fuck, m’so hard” He moans, stroking himself while you giggle, continuing with your routine. “S’not fair babygirl, makes my cock hurt when you look so pretty like that” 
He’s careful to use slow, languid strokes because any tighter and he’d cum all over his fist. At some point his metal hand cups his balls because his body feels too hot and they’re so fucking full. He could cum just from watching you but he’s more greedy than ever. 
“Mama. c’mere, please” he pleads with glassy eyes between moans, struggling to keep his eyes open. 
“Need something Jamie?” You coo, your perfect naked form causing spurts of precum to shoot from his tip while you saunter over to him, removing his hand from his cock and pulling him to stand up. He’s about to ask what you’re doing, stuttering when you bite your lip. 
“Oh god, fuck, no, you-you can’t-” He chokes out while you sink to your knees, taking the head  of his cock in your mouth, swirling your tongue around. He sobs at how angelic you look, your breasts heavier than ever, tummy nearly touching the floor. You’re a whole Goddess, on your knees, sucking his dick, pregnant with his baby, Bucky swears he’s died and gone to heaven. 
“Fuck, A-angel, don’t do this to me, m’gonna cum so much, feels too good, you’re so pretty” He cups your cheeks with softly, whining when you pull of him with a pop, his arousal making your lips and chin glossy, dribbling down your neck. 
“Go on daddy, mark me” You smirk while he furiously jerks his cock above your face, cursing under his breath, his cock swelling in his fist. He feels his balls pull tight to his body, his heavy length leaking and already dripping on your face. 
“OH GOD” He nearly roars, coating your entire face with his warm, sticky spend. “FUCK YES” he lets the last few drops fall onto your belly, your body perfectly covered in him. He kisses it all off with sloppy kisses, hard again with him minutes, this time filling your perfect pussy up instead. 
By the time he’s done, you need to shower again anyway, which he’s perfectly happy with, this time excited to join you. 
“C’mon mama, lets get you cleaned up again” 
Sorry. 
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norrisleclercf1 · 1 year
Text
It’s Too Early
Pairing: Charles x Pregnant!Reader
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Tough pregnancy, premature birth, PCOS (polycystic ovarian syndrome), IVF mentioned, angst, fluff at the end
Synopsis: Being pregnant hasn’t been easy, especially when Charles is away for the season and can’t be with you 24/7 like he wants to be. So what happens when he finds out you went into labor from a reporter? Chaos, utter chaos
A/N: Wrote this morning and I picked PCOS because that's something I suffer with all the time, and felt the need to write a fic about now, everyone's experience with PCOS and the topics discussed in this are different, I did research and put my own hardships and feelings in this, I hope everyone reads with an open mind and enjoys this but also Dad!Charles who could give up Dad!Charles
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Charles would kill for you; he really would. And right now, he wanted nothing more than to kill the FIA, who would refuse to let him sit out this season to be with you, his pregnant wife.
Finding out you were pregnant was the happiest day of his life, but soon it turned...not a nightmare, but a living hell. You were classified as a high-risk pregnancy due to polycystic ovarian syndrome, something you let Charles know when you first started dating.
He was there through the painful periods, the cramps that left you defenseless and laying in bed all day, to the doctor visits and the mood swings. Through it all, he was still with you and loved you more and more each day.
When you both married and settled down a bit more, the conversation of becoming pregnant came up. Charles knew the risks and had done research before bringing it up with you; he even explored other ways of having children. But you told him you wanted to try naturally and go from there before discussing different ways and seeing what happens.
After 3 years of trying and doing everything, even trying IVF, that damn stick showed that fucking plus sign. You sat in the bathroom for hours just staring at the positive test, and that's precisely how Charles found you when he came home. On the bathroom floor, staring at the test.
He can still feel the tile on his skin as he hugs and kisses you, calming your fears away from the worst thoughts in your head.
It hasn't been an easy pregnancy, from cramps to horrible morning sickness, to the doctors worried you might give birth way too early, even being put on bedrest for the rest of the pregnancy due to worries of preeclampsia. Charles fought hard with the FIA, saying he needed to be with you, but they refused to listen and told him he needed to race. You talked him off the ledge as he called to quit and stay home.
"Charles stop; this is ridiculous. You love racing; you aren't quitting because of me." You groaned, going in circles with your mess of a husband.
"No! What's ridiculous is that the FIA won't even see why my wife has a high-risk pregnancy and that I'm needed home, not driving in goddamn circles!" He snaps, slamming his phone down and pulling his hair.
"Char, breath." You whisper from the bed, in agony, simply because you can't get up and comfort your husband.
Charles, almost sensing your dilemma moves from the end of the bed to laying down next to you, placing his head on your chest, careful of your swollen breasts, knowing how much they've been hurting lately. No words are said as fingers run through his hair to calm him down and stop him from making a huge mistake.
"Charles, I'll have your mother here with me. Me and the baby are going to be okay. Listen, if anything changes, I will call you immediately. You can't miss this; you have a real chance this year and must show the world that Charles Leclerc will be a World Champion." Your words convince him as he lets off that familiar defeated sigh of his, making your smile grow at this.
"Immediately. Do you understand? I don't care if it's stupid like your back itches you call me." He bargains, making you laugh and nod in agreement.
Pascale has been staying with you for only a month, and you finally reached the safe zone, where if you did go into labor, it wouldn't be so dangerous for you or the baby. It was race day, and Charles was in Silverstone, needing to finish P2 or higher to challenge Max for the title.
It was a typical day as Pascale fixed you a light snack as you weren't feeling well, your lower back was hurting, and it felt like your pelvis had its own heartbeat. You didn't think much of it as it was a hot day in Monte Carlo, and you had read in books that it was customary to feel this, so you didn't say anything to Pascale to not worry her. The race was halfway through when the first real cramp startled you to the point you dropped your cup; thankfully, it was rubber, so it didn't break.
"Y/n? Honey, what's wrong?" Pascale was right there in an instant picking up the cup, looking over you.
"Just...a cramp, it's nothing." You mummer rubbing your stomach but flinch from how much it hurts to touch it.
"Y/n, when did this start?" Pascale asks calmly, knowing it was wise to keep you calm and not start to freak out because you might be in early labor.
"Last night, but it's picked up this morning. It's nothing, Pascale, honestly, just the baby moving." You try to reason, not wanting to jump straight to labor.
"Y/n, I'm calling for an ambulance, okay? I think you might be in early labor, and with you being on bed rest, they need to help me, alright." She mummers pushing your hair back, trying everything to keep you calm.
"Okay, okay." You repeat as the cramp passes, and you hear her on the phone telling them everything as you force yourself to pay attention to the race and not to the growing pit in your stomach that you might be in labor.
They get here fast as you breathe through another cramp. Tears start to flutter down your cheeks, the realization of you possibly in labor while Charles isn't here, but in the UK. They ask you question after question and share a look, a look that sets you off.
"No! No! I'm not in labor, okay? I'm just having some cramps, which is normal; I have PCOS; okay, nope, I'm not." You argue as the medics alert the hospital to your condition.
"Mrs. Leclerc, I understand that you are only 29 weeks and you're scared, but right now, you are in early labor, and we need to get you to the hospital as soon as we can, okay?" The friendly medic tries to reason with you, but you refuse to see reason.
"I'm sorry, but no. Charles isn't here; he should be here; I can't do this alone. I'm sorry, but I'm not going anywhere." You argue as Pascale packs your bags and looks over at you.
"Y/n, I know you are scared, but Charles isn't here right now, but he will be okay. I'll call him when the race is over and let him know immediately what's going on. But, please, if you wait, it'll be worse for you and the baby." She can reason with you, finally getting you to the hospital as you try hard to stay calm and not make things worse.
But of course, Pascale could never make the phone call as everyone was too busy keeping you calm.
Charles was on top of the world. He had won Silverstone and was only 4 points behind Max now. Sticky with champagne, he checks his phone, looking for the standard text from you, but not seeing a text from you, he hits dial, calling you. But, you don't pick up, making him call you again, yet again, you don't pick up.
He reasons you must be asleep, knowing you had been super tired lately, and his mother said everything was fine. You're eating normally and just sleeping or reading. He moves and takes a picture of the trophy, telling you he won it for you and the baby and he couldn't wait to get back home to you both. Sadly, he's pulled away from his phone to go do media even though he wants to head to the airport and go home, but he needs to do this first.
Only 4 more hours before heading to the plane, then another 5 to 6 hours before he's back home to you.
He makes it through all 5 interviews before coming to the last one, Pierre on his right and Carlos on his left as they all give their final interviews.
"Charles, amazing race. I have to say that it was fabulous to see you win this and to have your teammate and your childhood best friend up there. It must've been something." The reporter gushes, making Charles smile at how genuine the reporter is.
"Yes, um, having Carlos and Pierre be there next to me was something. I mean, the Red Bulls put up one hell of a fight, but we know not to get too comfortable and that we really need to start pushing it more and more each day so we can close the gap and pull in front of them." Charles smiles.
"Yes, this must be a wonderful day with you; with what winning Silverstone and your wife going into labor, you must be just on top of the world." Charles freezes, hearing the words come out of the reporter's mouth and let's put a nervous laugh.
"I'm sorry? My wife isn't in labor," he argues, starting to fidget and lick his lips.
''Really? Reports are that she went into labor at the start of lap 23 and has been at the hospital, your mother." Having cut the camera, realizing that Charles honestly had no idea.
"Nope, she's not, okay, she's not in labor. She would've called." he snaps, hands fumbling for his phone, trying to call you again. This time, it goes to voicemail, sending his heart plummeting to his feet.
"Alright, that's enough for today." Pierre voices and grabs Charles leading him away from prying eyes as he keeps calling you repeatedly.
"Charles. Charles, stop!" Pierre yells, snatching the phone away as his friend cries. Fear takes over Charles as he starts to imagine the worst. What if something was seriously wrong, and you went into early labor. You're only 29 weeks. That's 6 months. Yes, the baby would be okay, but would you?
"Come on, let's go to the hotel. Get your stuff, and you and I will fly out and call your mom. Okay, let's go." Pierre reasons, dragging his friend away and to the cars trying to calm down Charles.
'Pierre calls Pascale and puts her on the speaker; thankfully, the woman picks up after 3 rings.
"Why the fuck didn't you call me the moment she went into labor? I wouldn't give a damn if I was still in the car. Why didn't you call!" Charles rips out before Pascale can say anything, and Pierre groans, knowing that if the situation was different, the Ferrari driver's mother would bury his ass in the ground.
"Because Charles, I've been trying to keep her calm. She's freaking out because you're not here, and honestly, honey, I forgot, as I was trying to make sure your wife's blood pressure doesn't get worse; now, get here as fast as you can because she's almost fully dilated and she needs you Charles, and she needs you to be calm and strong for her because right now she's not." Pascale hangs up, leaving the car in a stiff eerie silence.
"Get me to the airport as fast as you can," Charles whispers, making Pierre nod to ensure he'd get there.
"I can't do this, Pascale; nope, I'm sorry, but I can't. It hurts too much, please, make it stop." you cry as your mother-in-law soothes you. She tells you Charles is on the way. But that did nothing to comfort you. It only made you more anxious about the fact that this would happen.
"Y/n, I know you're scared but Charles will be here soon, okay? But you can't stop pushing, okay? All these nurses and doctors are here to help you, ow let them." She urges as you scream out from another contraction.
"I want Charles." You sob, collapsing against the bed from exhaustion. This was too much for you, the pain, Charles, and everyone in the room; you can't do this.
"Baby!" A familiar voice cries out as the door swings open, and Charles runs in. His hair is messy, and he looks so bewildered you could kiss him, but all you can do is scream.
"WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN?!" Making Pascale and everyone else jump, Charles just smiles and pushes everyone out of the way to get to your side.
"I'm sorry, I was on a plane, and my phone wasn't working." And lies, not wanting to tell the truth of no one telling him but a reporter that you were in labor.
"You're lucky I'm giving birth right now or so; help me go-" Your words get cut off by another contraction, making you grab Charles's hand and squeeze it so hard he'd thought it'd break.
"Okay, Mrs. Leclerc, we need you to push." the doctor instructs while Pascale slips outside, startled to see half the grid in the hallway.
"Come on, let's give them some privacy." Pascale smiles, wrapping an arm around Pierre as she leads the boys down the hallway.
"I love you," Charles whispers, kissing your forehead, not caring for a minute you are drenched in sweat.
"I love you too, but we're adopting or surrogacy next time." You cry as you get one more contraction, everyone yelling at you to push, and soon your cries are mixed in with smaller ones.
"He's here. He's here." Charles repeats, kissing you all over and making sure you are okay. He wanted to check on his baby, but first, he needed to ensure you were alright.
"It's a boy? We had a little boy." You whimper, leaning into Charles's chest as you cry in relief that everything went as smoothly as possible.
"He's perfect, Y/n, all ten toes and fingers, and god, I love you so much." Charles mummers finally kissing you while the nurse cleans up your son.
"Here you go." the nurse smiles, handing you your son, who cries his little lungs out but soon stops when he's placed on your chest.
"He'll need to go to NICU for just a night so we can go over everything and make sure there are no complications, but after that, he can come down here and stay with you, Momma." the nurse smiles, going back to help make sure your vitals and everything else was good.
'Charles, and you can't help but stare at your little boy while you start to feel that ache and tiredness settle in, but Charles holds you both, his entire world in his arms.
"We need a name," Charles whispers, making you hum in agreement.
"I've got the perfect one. Also, tell Pierre I say thank you for getting you here."
Charles blinks down at you, confused, but you just giggle.
"I can smell his cologne." Making Charles laugh right along with you.
You fell asleep after picking the name, and the nurses follow Charles to the waiting room where everyone is, Pascale the first to see her son.
"Everyone," Charles starts making the others turn their heads, Isa and Carmen gushing at the tiny little baby in Charles's arms.
"Meet Pierre Hervé Jules Leclerc." Charles announces, making everyone laugh as Pierre stands there stunned, looking at his best friend holding his son.
"Really?" Pierre asks, making Charles nod. "Of course, if it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have gotten here in one piece. Also, Y/n says thank you." Charles smiles but adds, "she could smell your cologne on my clothes." Making everyone laugh at this.
"Can I hold him?" Pascale asks, but Charles shakes his head no.
"Sorry, but he won't be held by anyone but us and the staff for right now; he's got to go to the NICU overnight, and frankly, I want Y/n to get a say who holds him first after us, Mother." Charles smiles, but Pascale just beams, seeing Charles transform before her.
"Say goodbye to all your uncles and aunts, Pierre," Charles whispers, laying him in the trolly as the nurse reassures him that he'll be fine and he can come up and visit if he'd like.
Everyone watches as the Ferrari driver just smiles at his boy and leans down, whispering something to the baby before pulling away and watching the nurses take him a floor up.
"What did you say?" Pierre asks his friend.
"We'd always love and protect him, and he's only allowed to root for Ferrari." He laughs, making Pascale slap her son on the arm, everyone joining in on the laughter, a memory no one would forget.
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sluttywoozi · 6 months
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Kinktober Day 15: BangChan + Pregnancy Kink
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For 🩷
Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~1.7K
Pairing: Bangchan x Reader | Genre: smut
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Warnings: pregnancy kink (im fr), pregnant sex, oral f. rec., fingerfucking, piv sex, dirty talk, they are in love okay, breeding kink, lots of cum, mention of a plug, slightly possessive chris, creampie, aftercare
Reader Notes: pregnant, has a vagina, wap
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Chris is a firm believer that you only grow more beautiful with each passing day, and now that you’re pregnant, he’s nearly fanatical in that belief. How could he not be when you’re standing before him looking like this? 
He knows he came into the bedroom for something, but for his life, he can’t recall it. All thoughts fled his mind the second he laid eyes on you, fresh out of the shower and all dewy and moisturized in your cute little pajamas, your growing belly on display thanks to the cropped nature of your top. 
“Hey, babe,” you call out absentmindedly as you kiss him and shuffle over to the dresser, grabbing a pair of compression socks and backing up to the bed. Chris returns your greeting and follows you, holding his hand out and waiting for you to pass them over before kneeling in front of you and lifting one of your feet onto his knee. You can still put your socks and shoes on by yourself but why should you if he’s around? 
His hands are gentle as he guides the socks on one at a time, giving the arch of each foot a firm squeeze once the elastic is settled. You scratch your nails through his hair in thanks, making him shiver and press a kiss to your knee. He gets distracted swiftly, the scent of your cocoa butter lotion inviting and the feel of your soft, warm skin intoxicating. 
“Babe, I know you just showered and you probably wanna relax but do you think I could maybe, like, eat you out?” He asks cautiously, before he gets too ahead of himself. 
“Chris, I love you more than anything in this world.”
You sound like you’re tearing up and when his eyes find yours again, he finds that you are. He knows better than to call attention to it at this point and instead just smiles at you, fully endeared, before hooking his fingers in your shorts and starting to tug them down. Bracing yourself, you lift your hips to help him, making the process smoother and baring you to him that much faster. 
He spreads your legs and wedges his shoulders in between, ducking a bit to get your thighs up on them before leaning in and taking a deep breath, knowing it’s the last he’ll get until he makes you cum. 
It seems just the idea of him making you feel good was enough to get you hot, the heady taste of your arousal pulling a groan from deep in his chest as he licks a fat stripe up your cunt. 
He’s been loving you long enough to know how you like it, and he’s been loving you too long to do anything but give you exactly what you want - his lips suctioned around your clit and one of his fingers teasing your entrance. You always got wet for him before, but now you easily get drenched. Bless pregnancy hormones. 
His finger slips in easily, your welcoming walls sucking it deeper inside until his knuckles are flush to your lower lips. You let out a sigh and lean back on your hands, giving him more room to work as he licks and sucks at your clit. 
“Chris,” you whine plaintively, and before you can even ask, he gives you what he knows you want, sliding his middle finger in on the next thrust and spreading both to stretch you out. You feel like heaven, hot and wet and perfect, and you taste like it too, his tongue dipping down to push into your entrance alongside his fingers. 
He replaces his mouth on your clit with his thumb, pressing down and swirling circles into the swollen little bud as he curls his fingers in search of your g-spot. When your hips buck into him, he knows he’s found it, and with every thrust, he aims his fingertips at the ridged patch, hoping to make you gush. 
His mouth returns to your clit and your moans grow louder, more desperate. He just knows you’re getting close - you cum so much easier now - and he groans eagerly around you, the vibrations of it making you clench down on his fingers in pulses. 
He works a third into your needy cunt and the stretch is enough to break you, your head falling back on your shoulders as you shake and whimper, every sound making his dick twitch in his boxers. 
“Chris,” you moan as you slide a hand into his hair and pull, your grip almost painful until he realizes you’re pulling him away from you. 
“S’wrong?” He pants, licking around his lips and stilling his fingers.
“Get up here, I want your cock,” you plead, making him swear to himself and stumble to his feet, carefully withdrawing his fingers before rushing to undress with shaky hands. As soon as his jeans touch the floor, he steps out of them and into you, taking hold of your legs and helping you get all the way onto the bed. 
He guides you into the position you’ve found is best for making love now that your stomach is growing, waiting for you to turn onto your side before tugging a pillow into place beneath your belly and hooking his arm under your knee to pull your leg up and out. Straddling your other leg, he lines himself up and starts to sink inside you, your plush cunt like molten velvet around him. 
He pauses, letting you adjust and waiting for the squeeze you always give him as a signal. When your pussy ripples around him, he draws his hips away from you and surges back in, a wet smack filling the room as he begins to fuck you. 
Your sounds join it soon, the sweet melody of your pleasure music to his ears. He never lets you moan alone, always tries to be vocal because he knows how much you like to hear him too, because it actually feels better to let the noises out, to be free and open about how he feels. 
“God, you’re so fucking beautiful like this,” he groans as he fucks in and out of you, his cock throbbing and leaking within the tight grasp of your walls. “All round and full because of me.”
“Makes me wanna just, fuck, keep you pregnant, keep you full of my cum when you aren’t full of my baby. Do you want that, honey? Want me to fuck you raw every night so we know you’ve always got some of me inside you?” 
“Fuck, Chris, yes, yes, I want that,” you cry, your fingers clutching his where they hold your leg in place. 
“I’ll give it to you, honey. I’ll give you a-anything,” he promises you, feeling white hot tension pooling at the base of his spine as his release builds. He used to be able to last before he knocked you up, but almost everything about making love to you has changed. You’re more sensitive, you get fucking soaked for him, you can nearly cum on command, and you even taste different. 
He knows life will change after the baby too, knows there’s an untold amount of things that will happen, but he thinks he can handle anything as long as he has you by his side. 
“I love you so fucking much, honey,” he nearly sobs, tangling his fingers with yours and leaning down to brace himself on one arm above you. He needs to be close to you, needs to hear you perfectly when you tell him-
“I love you, Chris, so much. You don’t even know,” you sob back, but of course he does, of course he knows. 
“I do, honey. I promise I do. Fuck, I’m gonna cum, please cum with me,” he moans raggedly, pulling his hand away from yours and releasing your leg to rub your clit with two fingers, holding off his orgasm until he feels you start to clench around him. You turn your head and his open lips meet yours in a deep kiss just as his cock starts to jerk and stuff you to the brim. 
His head spins, and he says words he doesn’t exactly remember, words you’ll tease him about later. Something about breeding you, about getting a plug to keep his cum inside you, about building you a house with however many rooms you want, rooms he wants to fill. 
By the time he’s done, he’s pink in the face and empty in the head, panting into your neck in between kisses to your soft skin. He pulls out slowly, replacing his cock with his fingers to keep his cum inside of you, removing them and helping you onto your back when he notices your thigh start to twitch. 
“Alright, baby?” He murmurs, inspecting you for sore spots as you catch your breath and find him with your eyes. 
“Never been better,” you pant in response, pouting and reluctantly letting him go when he starts to pull away. Endeared, he kisses you on the forehead and climbs off the bed, jogging to the bathroom naked to start a warm bath and dampen a washcloth. He returns swiftly, cleaning you up before helping you off the bed and into the bathroom. 
He watches you carefully get in the tub, his hands at the ready to steady you. When you’re safely ensconced in the warm water, he climbs in behind you, wrapping you up in his arms and heaving a great sigh as you settle into him. 
You fall asleep almost immediately, and Chris just holds you and your belly, counting all the days until your baby joins you, all the days you might let him fill you up again, feeling more grateful and in love than ever. 
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Kinktober Masterlist
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chrollohearttags · 7 months
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reiner trying to “just let me put the tip in, it’ll be fine” his way into some pussy. Knowing damn well he can’t control himself, has the worst pull out game in history and will undeniably end up breeding you. Now you’re looking at each other like that fucking Diddy meme.
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pvrkacciosan · 9 months
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The price for life
A/n: ahhhh, I'm a sucker for the dad! drivers content
Synopsis: One of the many pains of pregnancy.
Pairing: Charles Leclerc X Pregnant Fem!reader
Warnings: throwing up, morning sickness. Google translated french, dear old Charles getting a little handsy
Word Count: 1K
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The novelty hadn't worn off on you yet it seemed, Laying awake in the early morning, it had become a habit to simple run your hand over the forming bump on your lower stomach.
Being around the fifteen week mark, it was safe to say that you child had definitely began to make themselves known.
It was such strange sensation and notion for you to know that there was a growing life inside you, one which you had made with your fiance.
Who currently was snoring lightly from beside you, sleeping soundful his back exposed. You had always preferred to sleep next to him, when he didn't wear a shirt, the direct contact to his skin proved to be an excellent body warmer, and currently with this pregnancy you had manage to get what you wanted, by simple using the excuse that it was his child that made you want such things.
Charles would simple smile and heed to your requests without question. Pulling the sheet closer to your body, you shifted closer to him, drawing a hand up to drawn patterns on the bare flesh of his back,
There wasn't a clear amount of time that passed before the sleeping body beside you began to stir, Leaning in closer, you pulled your body until your lips where level with his shoulder,
Pressing a firm kiss to the exposed skin, You watched softly as Charles's head titled up an rolled around to now face you, he offered you a lazy smile, eyes still sleep dulled.
"Morning, My love" you pressed another kiss to the same point on his shoulder, hugging his arm lightly under the covers, His hand drifted through the sheets until it grazed the bump, Charles held there while he rolled over to face you now,
Resting his hand onto the bone of you hip he settled with rubbing the pad of his thump along the underside of the swell. Lifting your shirt to gain proper contact with the warmth flesh,
"How are you this morning, Ma chérie? " Charles's morning voice was rough, and shot shivers down your whole body, He blinked in waiting for your response, smirking when he realised your hesitation,
"Fine" you nodded, perhaps to try and convince him that his words hadn't affect you too much, despite the way your body leaned closer to his in that moments, the bump between you pressing closer to his torso,
Charles giggled at your obvious coverup, leaning in to press his lips to yours, in a swift sweet kiss, his hand trailing up to caress the underside of the swollen skin, it tickled at first causing you to gasp lightly against his mouth, Charles took full advantage off that, using the opening to deepen the kiss further,
Having his hands right where he wanted them, He pulled you closer, rolling until you had no choice but to straddle his lap if you wanted to continue.
"Beaucoup mieux" (much better) You pulled back as Charles took a second to take the sight of you on him in the early morning light streaming in through your shared bedroom window.
Wearing nothing but your underwear and one of Charles shirts, it left your legs exposed when you sat on his lower stomach, Charles began to run his hands up your leg, starting from your knee, moving incredibly slow up the apex of your thighs.
Leaning forward against him, you rocked your hips down into his pelvis to cause some sort of friction, before kissing him once more.
Charles had groaned, tilting his head back slightly right before you recapture his mouth, You let a content giggle leave you, pulling away to place your forehead to his when he smoothed his hands against the sides of your stomach once more,
He shifted slightly, you watched his gaze as he looked around to glance down at you stomach, replacing one of your own hands, to rested it atop his.
"We did that" His whisper was riddled with disbelief, shock even, a pleasurable one, rooted from joy. Happiness for the life he was about to lead with you.
It took everything in him to pull one of his hands away, but he did so to cup the side of your face and pull you back towards him.
It was then you felt the familiar feeling, which you hoped you had manage to shake being this far into the pregnancy. Apparently not, as you pushed off from Charles chest, and leaping off the bed in one swift movement, you darted for the bathroom across the hall from your shared room.
The bile burned the back off your throat as it forced its way up, there was no stopping it as you managed to crouch to the toilet intime.
There was the sound of soft footsteps padding your way, Without even having to turn you knew Charles was leant into the doorframe,
"I'm not that repulsive am I?"
You spat into the bowl before glaring at him over your shoulder,
"Ughhh, I thought I got passed this last week" You rested your head against the side of your arm, kneeling on the cool floor now.
Charles moved closer, you felt the brush of his finger at the nape of your neck when he began gathering up your hair, you held up your other wrist, Charles took the hair band from around it.
"I'll go grab you some water," he stated after tying your hair back away from your face,
And just like that he dashed off, when he reappeared he was now dressed in a simple comfortable looking black hoodie, and a glass of water in hand.
When he placed the glass next to you, he reached into the hoodie pockets and pulled out a strip of anti-sickness tablets, which you had gotten used to taking during the first few weeks of your pregnancy.
Charles had been amazing with you, and there was't a doubt in your mind that without him, you wouldn't have been able to mentally get through the beginning of this pregnancy.
Gratefully taking the pills you sipped them down with some of the water,
"Thank you Charles." You hoped he picked up on the severity of which you tried to emphasis into your words,
He reached across to take your hand, he looked in thought, kissing you hand where your engagement ring sat,
"Well you know, ma mère would kill me for not taking good care of the two newest Leclercs" He rose to move, you gripped to his hand before it slipped from your hold, halting him where he stood,
"I don't know what I would do without you"
Charles answering smile was devilish, "Probably wouldn't be pregnant and throwing up right now"
"Oh my god, I hate you"
Charles laughed and pulled from your grasp, "You love me really, deep down" his voice grew softer as he moved towards the kitchen,
Bringing the water back up to you lips, you smiled. He was right.
Deep down somewhere, you did love him. especially enough to return the favour, Trying to contain you giggle you leaned you head back,
"Oh my Charles the baby kicked!"
He ran so quickly into the room, he slipped and collided with the door frame, stopping in his track when he saw you smirking up at him,
"Just kidding" you smiled sweetly, blinking innocently
"I hate you" he was already moving from the room.
"You love me deep down!" you yelled back,
His hand reappeared to flip his middle finger to you, Your laughter bouncing off the walls,
What the hell where you bringing this poor child into.
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ciaraswritings · 8 months
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I feel like AT the restaurant they go to, Batmom goes into labor. She feels her first contraction, then spills her water on herself from the shock of it. Bruce does not believe her and they bicker about it with Y/N going “would I REALLY lie about this!?” And her husband gives her a look. Then she starts debating if it was gas or a contraction, or what have you.
It isn’t till Alfred comes back from the bathroom that the rush would start.
Batprank (Pt. 2)
Disclaimer: I do not own DC or their settings. This is certainly not canon.
Warnings & Topics: Very light argument, pregnancy, pranking, contractions, labor, delivery, newborn, parents holding newborn. 18+. If these are sensitive topics for you, go ahead and skip this one.
Word Count: 2K words
Summary: Batmom!reader goes into labor at her favorite restaurant and gives birth to her baby with her husband close by in Wayne Manor.
Author's Note: You guys crack me up, great part two idea, anon. It's pretty light-hearted at first, but towards the end of the story, I included a birth scene. I've never gotten to have a home birth, so I apologize if there were inaccuracies. Let me know if you want a part three. Thank you for all the incredible support, and I hope you enjoy.
Part One
Warm August sun tickled my nose as I stepped out of the car, taking a little more time than I was comfortable admitting, caused by nearly nine months of pregnancy's effect on my stomach. Not that I was complaining. I  was thrilled to be having Bruce's baby. It fulfilled the desire to be a mother that I'd had for years, and to be having a child with the love of my life? A fairytale come true. Even if we couldn't agree on baby names, even when I pulled labor pranks on my husband, even when I was being bombarded with concern by all our family members, especially our children. Earlier in the afternoon I had played a tremendous joke on all our family members, except for the all-knowing Alfred, pretending to have gone into labor. It was very convincing, and somehow we wound up at my favorite diner in the process of driving to the hospital. 
I joined my husband in the empty restaurant. It was three o'clock, the last customers of the lunch rush were slowly shuffling out the door, and it looked like the dinner rush had not yet made an appearance. I smiled at him as I intertwined my fingers with his, sliding into the booth next to him where he waited for the takeout order he had just put in.
"You could've waited in the car, it'll be ready soon," he pressed a kiss to my cheek and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. I smiled, practically melting into his embrace, laying my hand on my stomach. 
"That's okay, I kinda wanted water while we wait for it." I gave my husband a quick look. 
"Heh, and I'm guessing you need me to get that for you?"
"Obviously, you got me pregnant, now you get to take care of me." I slid out of the booth to allow him access to the soda fountain, tapping my foot in mock impatience. 
"You scared me to death with that prank of yours earlier, don't push it," he chuckled, rising and pressing a kiss to my cheek before going to retrieve my water. 
I rolled my eyes at him, sitting back down in the booth, still with a playful smile on my face. "I love you, Bruce."
"Uh-huh." He set the cup of water on the table in front of me before leaning down to place a loving kiss on my lips. As I returned the kiss, our order number was called from the front counter. "I'll be right back."
"Okay," I smiled and turned to the water cup in front of me, sipping from it and relaxing against the faux leather seat. I drummed my fingers against my stomach and thought about our unborn daughter, just as I had every day for the last six months. How happy Bruce would look when he held her for the first time. How her little fingers and toes would look. How excited Alfred and the kids would be to hear that she was finally born. It'd been a long and interesting journey for all of us, and it would soon come to its end. 
The realization that the kids were still at home in a state of panic hit me harder than a cold pool on a hot summer day. "Shit," I muttered, pulling out my phone and quickly dialing Stephanie's number. She was the most likely to answer, I knew, and I was right.
"Hello?!" The excited squeal made me pull the phone away from my ear for a moment. 
"Hello, Stephanie, I just wanted to let you all know... could you put the call on speaker, please?" 
“Yeah! Okay, there you go, tell us what’s happening!” Stephanie’s excitement was pouring through the speaker of my phone like water. 
“Mom? Mom, what’s going on?!” I could hear Jason’s voice, much more awake than when we had left the manor to rush to the hospital.
“I figured I needed to let you guys all know that my going into labor was a-” at that very moment I felt it, a long, drawn-out and yet sharp pain moving through my lower abdomen. It stunned me nearly into silence, accidentally spilling half of the contents of my water cup onto my lap. It almost felt like the horrible menstrual cramps that I hadn’t felt for such a long time.
“Mom? It was a what?” Tim’s voice broke through the pause. 
“Oh, not a prank, not a prank, not a prank!” I groaned as the pain rippled through my lower stomach. Not that it was unmanageable, it was just so surprising and… a tiny bit terrifying. No, it was very terrifying. The due date wasn’t for two more weeks, I didn’t expect this, I hadn’t mentally prepared, this was truly scary.
“Not a prank?” It was Tim again. “What do you mean, we know that.” 
“I didn’t mean anything!” I took two deep breaths as the sharp pain faded into a dull throb, then almost disappeared. “Just… forget I said anything! We’ll give you an update soon, love you lots, bye,” I ended the call before the curious group on the other end could get another word in. 
As I set down the phone on the table with a thud, my husband arrived by my side with a plastic bag. “Are you ready to… what’s wrong?” He set it down, kneeling to inspect my tense face.
“I… I think I just got a contraction,” I whispered, looking over to him. 
Bruce looked from my face, to the spilled water in my lap, then back to my face before standing. “Nice try, honey, let’s get going.”
“No! No, I mean it!” I looked up at him, grabbing his hand with mine in a death grip. “I’m not kidding this time. I’m not. You have to believe me.”
My husband looked at me for a moment before kneeling next to me again. “(Y/N), are you being serious? You know the story of the boy who cried wolf, don’t you?”
“Would I really lie about this, Bruce?!” I looked down at my stomach and pressed my fingers to the underside. “I swear, I felt it, I felt a contraction!” 
My statement was met with a look of doubt. “(Y/N), we’re two weeks away from the due date, I’m sure it was just… gas or discomfort, it couldn’t have been a contraction.” 
I returned his look with a withering glance. “Bruce Wayne, I swear, that was not gas. I think I’d know the difference.” 
“Honey, you can’t be having contractions yet…” Bruce’s confidence was starting to crack. He gave my stomach a worried look. 
“Oh yes I can, you know that babies can come anytime they choose.”
“Was that the only one?”
“Yeah, that was the only one.”
“Then… it was probably just…” 
“Master Bruce, Madam (Y/N), we had better start moving if we want to miss the rush hour,” Alfred’s calm voice broke through Bruce’s thought. He had stepped into the restaurant in search of us, given that we were ordering takeout, not dining in.
“Alfred! Alfred, I think I got a contraction, we have to call the midwife right now.” I stood, using the table for support. My husband handed off the plastic bag of food to Alfred, catching my arm to assist me. 
“Will we be heading home or to the hospital, sir?” Alfred quirked an eyebrow towards Bruce, just as skeptical as he was. 
“We’ll… let’s call the midwife in the car and go from there.” Bruce looked at me, starting to believe my words.
“Yes, let’s… just get her on the phone, please.” 
...
A few minutes later, we were heading back to the manor. The midwife had advised me to remain in a comfortable space to monitor my contractions on my own, to see if it was really gas, false labor, or the real thing. The original plan was to give birth in the manor, unless something unexpected (such as my water breaking before my due date) occurred. The midwife and her birth team assured me that they were just a phone call away, and with that in mind, we started driving back towards the manor. 
Bruce did everything to make sure I was comfortable, in the car and back in our bedroom once we had arrived home. The kids crowded around me at first, until a growl and firm command from Bruce sent them all back to their rooms. I was resting in our large, plush bed, my hand resting on my stomach, when the next contraction made its way through my body, then the next, then the next, still minutes apart, but becoming more and more consistent. Now that Bruce was convinced that I was actually going into labor, he was the most attentive husband on earth, holding me close with one arm and keeping his other hand on my stomach. 
“I knew this was going to happen, but… I didn’t think that it’d happen so soon,” I looked up at him, trying to relax after a contraction had passed. 
“I didn’t think so either,” he replied, massaging the side of my tummy. “But, you are the strongest person I know. If anyone can do this, it’s you.”
The pain was alleviated through his massages and gentle words. “Thank you, I’m so glad you’re here.” 
“I’m not going anywhere.” 
Labor was long and longer. Since it was my first baby, the risk was higher, but we wanted to prevent any danger of kidnapping or switched babies, especially since Bruce was in such a spotlight. I found myself in different positions as the night dragged on, the midwife’s reassuring words and Bruce’s concerned yet comforting presence carrying me through the delivery of our baby. Even when I felt for a moment that I couldn’t go on, my husband’s kisses to my shoulder and forehead kept me from giving up. Not that I really had a choice, of course. And yet that one moment was worth it all. 
I’ll never forget the moment the tiny, crying baby was put on my chest, as the midwife maneuvered me from my birthing position to lay on my back. I was so exhausted, I didn’t even register for a moment what was happening, until I was sprawling against the pillows and my newborn daughter was on my skin, her whimpering, suckling noises were music to my ears. Holding her close, I closed my eyes in relief, nearly unaware of what was going on around me. After a moment, I opened my eyes and looked up at the man who had supported me from beginning to end. “Bruce, we did it.” 
“Yes, you did it, I knew you could.” He was looking at the tiny human in my arms with a sort of awe. 
I smiled, my thumbs stroking her back, though she was still covered in fluids. I was half mindful of the midwife asking Bruce to cut the umbilical cord, most of my focus was spent on examining my daughter’s tiny fingers that moved so slowly, as if they were trying to figure out this new environment.
Seeing the love of my life hold our child for the first time was as perfect and pure as I knew it would be. Once she was wiped clean and wrapped in a cloth, Bruce was able to hold her to his own chest, staring down at her with the same awe that hadn’t left his face. I could see her eyes were open, and she was staring up at him. In this wonderful moment, I knew that it had all been worth it, and that she would never have to be alone, that he was always going to be right there for her.
Bruce finally placed her back in my arms, and I held the little bundle of moving arms and legs close again, looking up at him with a smile and a quirked eyebrow. “I told you it wasn’t a prank.” 
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Text
Weekend Mornings || Miguel O'Hara x Pregnant Wife Reader:
WARNINGS: Fluff and a worried Mama O'Hara but nothing bad happens!
SUMMARY: After waking up, you got a little worried when you couldn't find Miguel beside you.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is my first imagine in a really long time, so there might not be a lot of details but I do hope you like it either way! Also, I apologize if the translations are wrong and please feel free to correct me if they are wrong.
MASTERLIST: Feel free to check out my other works! :)
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"Morning, mi vida," you hear your husband speak gently behind you, before he kisses your shoulder. His hand slips underneath the warm blanket protecting your body from the cold air, gently caressing your swollen belly.
You hum back softly in response, your eyes remaining firmly shut as you refuse to open them just yet, still feeling quite sleepy.
Throughout your pregnancy, you are the type of person who loves to sleep in until nine o'clock in the morning during the weekends, but you can't say the same about your husband who always wake up at dawn. It becomes a small routine for the two of you. As soon as Miguel wakes up, he immediately pulls you into his embrace— if not already or if you had unintentionally moved away from him during your sleep —and spends some time cuddling you while he admires your baby bump. Sometimes, Miguel will even start talking to the baby if he feels them kicking.
As always, you find yourself drifting back to sleep in Miguel's embrace. You're not a heavy sleeper, but the calm silence and Miguel's comforting touch lull you into a peaceful slumber within a few minutes into the cuddle. There is just something about being wrapped in his strong arms that makes you feel utterly safe and content, as if nothing in the world could disturb it.
After an hour of cuddling and making sure you're not on the very edge of the bed out of a fear that you might fall off it because it has happened once and Miguel wouldn't leave you alone for weeks after that accident, Miguel gets out of bed. Knowing you'll still be asleep for a few more hours, he quietly gathers his belongings and prepares to head to the gym but not before pressing a kiss to your forehead.
Miguel slipped out of the bedroom after that, careful not to wake you up with too much noise, gym bag in hand.
. . . .
Your eyes slowly flutter open as you stretch your arms to the side, instinctively reaching for your husband, only to furrow your eyebrows when you don't feel his touch and look over to find it empty.
Assuming Miguel was still at the gym, you dismiss the worries of his absence. However, as you take your phone from the bedside table, you realize it was past nine o'clock, a sense of unease appears in your stomach. It was unusual for Miguel to be at the gym for so long since he is always consistent with his routine on returning back home by half past eight. Peeling the blanket from your body, you carefully slide out of bed, a hand cradling your eight-month-old stomach protectively.
Your heart was racing with concern as you quickly check the empty bathroom, finding no sign of Miguel there. You hurriedly went out of the bedroom and down the stairs, your footsteps making loud noises. Hurriedly, you dart out of the bedroom and descend the stairs, your footsteps echoing loudly in the house. As you enter the living room, your senses are greeted by the scent of pancakes and the sound of sizzling from the kitchen.
Instantly, a wave of relief washes over you, calming your worried heart. Despite the scent and the sounds coming from the kitchen, you feel the need to see Miguel for yourself, to reassure yourself of the love of your life's safety. Hurrying to the kitchen, you find him there, flipping one of the pancakes over with a spatula, and a sense of peace settles over you as you realize he's safe and sound.
Miguel looks over to you with a frown. "Mi vida, ¿qué te dije de bajar corriendo las escaleras? Hay tantos casos de gente que se cae por las escaleras y—" he begins in a scolding and worried tone, but it fades into silence as you approach and envelop him in a tight hug. Although confused, Miguel senses your need for reassurance and wraps his arms around you, holding you close and soothing away any lingering worries with his touch.
"I thought something happened to you," you sniffle in the hug and Miguel's grip on you tighten slightly as he immediately understand the reason for your worries.
In the third trimester of your pregnancy, Miguel made sure to minimize his missions, only going on them to assist the trainees or if there was any emergencies when necessary. Despite being relieved of the measures he has taken for you and the baby, the fear of something happening to him during his duties as head of the Spider Society lingers in your mind. You understand and respect his role as a hero, but the mere thought of him sustaining any injury on a mission fills you with dread. A single wound is enough to disrupt your sleep for days, as the concern for his safety weighs heavily on your mind.
"Nothing will happen to me, mi vida," Miguel speaks gently, his voice laced with reassurance as he lovingly strokes your cheek, wiping away the few tears that have escaped down your cheeks. "I promise to do everything in my power to keep us safe and to return to you, always." He swears to you, his gaze unwavering as he looks down at you with a determined yet assuring expression.
You sniffle again, finding solace in Miguel's words. It has a calming effect on your heart, and your breathing gradually turning back to normal. Resting your head on his chest, bask in the peaceful silence that surrounds the two of you. There's no need for words to fill the air as the simple touches between you and Miguel speak loud enough for both of you to understand.
The sweet moment is abruptly interrupted by a burning smell that filled the kitchen. "¡Ay, coño!" Miguel cursed under his breath, remembering about the forgotten pancakes, swiftly moves to turn off the stove before the food has a chance to catch fire.
Grimacing at the sight of the burnt pancakes, Miguel turns to you with a sheepish expression. "Eggs and bacon?" he offers as an alternative since it's one of the quickest meal he can whip up for you.
You hum and nod, liking the idea of eggs and bacon. "And orange juice?" you question, your stomach grumbling in hunger at the thought of the delicious meal.
Your cheeks turn pink in embarrassment, but Miguel just chuckles, finding your reaction endearing. "Anything for mi reina." He replies back affectionately, planting a kiss on your cheek before heading to the fridge to retrieve the eggs and raw bacon.
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Translations:
Mi vida, ¿qué te dije de bajar corriendo las escaleras? Hay tantos casos de gente que se cae por las escaleras y— = My love, what have I told you about falling down the stairs? There are so many cases of people who fall down the stairs and—
Mi vida = my life
Mi reina = my queen
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ventingv · 8 months
Note
how would zhongli and neuvillette react to readers body changing as the egg grows?
Zhongli
When the first signs of the egg start appearing Zhongli would feel a deep satisfaction at the sight that he was the one to do that to you, that you are the one carrying his child.
When it becomes more obvious of the pregnancy you were having the people of Liyue would almost always see Zhongli walking besides you when you were out doing errands.
During the final months he would use all his sick, vacation, and maternity leave to make sure that you wouldn’t have to worry about giving birth while he wasn’t there.
Neuvillette
I’m sorry to say but he would be basically a helicopter parent as soon as he learns of your pregnancy.
It’s not out of something malicious or that he doesn’t trust you but with him being the Chief Justice and the hydro dragon he’s worried that people may try to harm you or the eggs you are carrying to get back at him. So expect to be constantly under someone that he trusts watch when it’s not him.
During the final months it would be even worse due to him asking constantly if you need anything, if you feel any pain, or if you think the eggs may be come. The only time of pease you would get from him is when you send him out to get something from the house, such as take out. Which he does almost instantly, not wanting to make you sad or unhappy.
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fluentmoviequoter · 2 months
Text
Not So Grumpy
Requested Here!
Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!wife!pregnant!reader
Summary: Tim is grumpier than usual, and when you decide to visit him at the station, the rookies get an idea of why.
Warnings: pregnant reader. fluff!
Word Count: 1.8k+ words
A/N: Softie Tim? Softie (and clingy) Tim. This takes place sometime during seasons 1-2.
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“Don’t start,” Tim says, sitting beside Angela.
“Whoa, okay,” she replies with a laugh. “Glad to see you’re in such a good mood.”
“That sounds like starting.”
Angela puts her hands up, smiling as she turns away from Tim. “Chen, good luck.”
Tim rolls his eyes, wishing his mornings could go differently. It’s been several weeks of his persistent bad mood, and everyone who has to deal with him is curious about what’s causing it.
“Bradford, can I- could I maybe get you something?” Lucy offers softly.
“No.”
✯✯✯✯✯
You wake up curled against Tim’s side, his arm extended over your waist. His alarm is going off, and he’s smacking the nightstand beside him in a poor attempt to turn it off.
“You have to go to work,” you remind him, kissing his cheek as you move farther up in the bed.
“I’m good,” he replies, sighing as he finds his phone and turns the sound off. “Right here.”
He rolls closer to you, his hand sweeping over your stomach as he looks into your eyes. Tim can be persuasive, but you’ve gotten used to this routine over the last few weeks.
“I’d love for you to stay, I really would, but I don’t think your boss would appreciate it,” you say.
Tim groans, pressing his face against your neck as his arm tightens around you.
“You got clingy,” you tease, running your fingers through his hair and gently scratching his scalp.
“And you won’t let me stay,” Tim mumbles.
“It’s not my fault you wanted to be a cop.”
“You would-“ Tim pauses, sitting up so you can hear him. “You would deprive me of staying at your side during a time like this?”
Chuckling at his dramatics, you push your hand against Tim’s shoulder in a pointless attempt to move him away from you.
“Tim, baby, you see me all the time.”
“Not enough. I’m going to come home one day, and there will be a toddler running around, but I won’t remember any of this.”
You close your eyes and lean back against your pillow. “You have to go to work today so you can come to the doctor with me on Friday, right? Just think about that.”
“I can’t. I can only think of you.”
“You start a family and suddenly you’re the most romantic, clingy guy in the world. Where’d the grump go?”
Tim doesn’t reply as he tries to pull you closer. Rolling away from him, you leave him no choice but to get up and go to work. His disappointed sigh makes you frown; you know he’s being dramatic to cover up how he feels.
“Tim,” you call, sitting up as he walks to you. “I’m sorry. I love you, and I really do want you here as much as possible.”
“I know. It’s just harder than I thought it would be.”
You nod, tilting your chin up in a silent request for a kiss. Tim smiles, shaking his head as he bends to meet you. You pull back before he risks getting distracted.
“The grump is back now,” Tim mumbles.
“Hey! Be nice today,” you call after him.
Tim doesn’t reply, and you know he’ll deny ever hearing you say such a thing.
✯✯✯✯✯
Tim slams the door as he exits the shop. Standing with his hands on his hips, he looks at the flat tire before glancing at Lucy.
“I didn’t see it,” she begins, her voice rushed and apologetic.
“Because you weren’t paying attention,” Tim snaps.
“But I-“
“How do you expect to graduate to short sleeves if you can’t even drive, boot?”
“It wasn’t my fault; there was something in the road!”
“Call dispatch,” Tim demands.
“What’s the protocol for this?”
Tim remains silent, leaning against the side of the shop as Lucy racks her brain for the proper procedure. As she radios dispatch and explains the situation, Tim grows grumpier. He’s stranded in a subdivision of Los Angeles with a flat tire that could have been avoided instead of home with you. His conviction about being a cop wanes each moment he’s away from you.
✯✯✯✯✯
Even without seeing the worst of it, you can tell Tim’s attitude has changed lately. His fellow officers and the rookies have been dealing with the grumpiest version of Tim they’ve ever experienced, but you see the clingy, emotional, loving side of whatever is making him act so differently.
After doing a few small chores, which Tim will tell you not to do again, you get ready and decide to pay him a visit at the station. You want to see how he is doing.. mostly, you miss him and want an excuse to see him and hug him.
As you get in your car, you consider calling Tim to ensure he’s at the station and has time for a visitor. He has been protective of you since you met, but it has changed and increased since getting married and throughout the early months of your pregnancy. You shrug, putting your phone away after electing to surprise him instead. 
✯✯✯✯✯
“It would be great if one of you could remember that you’re a police officer!” Tim yells, looking between Nolan, Lucy, and Jackson. “Now you’ve got nothing to say? No excuses? Well maybe you should review those rook books before going out on patrol again.”
He turns quickly, prepared to storm away and find a private place to calm down. When he freezes, the rookies look at one another in confusion. Nolan prepares to speak, and Lucy shakes her head to stop him, unwilling to get yelled at again so soon.
“What are you doing here?” Tim asks.
You step into the bullpen with a smile as Tim rushes to your side.
“Missed you,” you whisper.
“Is that- is she-“ Nolan stutters.
“Pregnant? Yeah. And Tim is… smiling?” Jackson adds.
Lucy gasps, moving in front of Nolan to see better. It’s true: Tim is standing as close as he can, with one hand laid protectively over your stomach while he smiles down at you. His grumpiness, which has made being a rookie nearly unbearable recently, is completely gone, vanished at the sight of you.
“You shouldn’t be up walking around,” Tim frets.
“Then I probably shouldn’t tell you I cleaned the kitchen, huh?” you reply.
Tim shakes his head, his thumb brushing over the swell of your baby bump as he leans forward to kiss your forehead.
“Are you feeling okay?” Tim asks softly.
You smile, moving your chin to gesture to your left. Tim’s brows pinch as he turns, glaring at the rookies until they look away, turning to one another in a fake conversation.
“I’m not going to survive this afternoon,” Tim tells you.
“You’ve been grumpy and mean,” you accuse.
“Look, they’re going to annoy me all afternoon. Stay with me? You can do a ride along. Oh! Or you could go into labor so I can stay home with you for a few days.”
“As great as that sounds, I’m going to pass. I’d like to have a healthy baby when the time is right, not on your schedule, grumpy.”
Tim frowns, his hands on either side of your bump.
“But, I promise to be waiting for you the moment you get home,” you add. “And, maybe, if you just tell them the truth, it won’t be so bad.”
“You’ve never dealt with a boot. Or Angela Lopez.”
“Just because you won’t introduce me.”
“For good reason.”
You smile, raising your chin again before Tim kisses you quickly.
“Be careful going home. I’ll see you in a few hours.”
Tim watches you leave, waiting until you’re out of sight to turn back toward the rookies. He jerks back slightly when he sees Lucy standing right beside him.
“She’s so cute! You’re so cute together! Why haven’t you mentioned her, Tim?” Lucy gushes. “And where do you hide that guy that was with her? I’ve never met that Tim.”
“And you won’t,” he promises.
“I think he leaves that side of Tim with her,” Nolan adds.
Tim’s jaw clenches. It’s true, he knows, but he doesn’t want details of his personal life to become an accepted topic for the rookies. He raises his hand, and they silence.
“Just- leave it alone for now, and I will introduce you the next time she visits,” he offers. 
As he says it, he makes a mental note to ask you not to visit without warning so he doesn’t have to follow through. The lie is the only way to have peace while in the vicinity of the rookies.
“I can’t believe you’re going to be a dad,” Jackson muses.
“You’re having a kid?” Angela yells, running down the stairs and grabbing Tim’s arm.
Tim grumbles something unintelligible under his breath before saying, “Yes.”
“Boy or girl?”
“Don’t know yet.”
“If it’s a girl, Angela is a great name.”
“Oh, trust me, I’ve got a long list of names that are an absolute no-go,” Tim replies, looking between the rookies and Angela.
“How did you figure this out?” Angela asks Lucy.
“She – who is she?” Lucy begins before realizing that she never heard who you are to Tim.
“My wife,” Tim mutters.
“You’re married?!” Angela and Nolan ask together.
Angela slaps Tim's shoulder, frowning when he looks at her with his eyebrows raised.
“I thought we were friends.”
“What gave you that impression?”
Angela gasps, covering her heart with her hand.
“Uh, Tim?” you ask, standing behind him.
He turns toward you quickly, and Angela’s eyes widen as she looks at you.
“Yeah?” he asks kindly, yet another surprise.
“Can you come with me for a second?” You notice the small crowd behind him, officers who seem more interested in you than anything else. “Hi,” you say, waving at them.
“It is so nice to meet you,” Angela begins, stepping toward you before Tim blocks her way with his arm.
“We’ll do introductions later,” Tim says, putting his arm around you and leading you away.
“I’m holding you to that!” Lucy yells.
Tim leads you into an empty interview room, his eyes searching yours. You take his hand, laying it on your stomach. Something happened when you heard his voice earlier, and you want to share it.
“Say something,” you request. “Anything.”
“I love you,” Tim answers.
His eyes widen as he feels the movement of a kick against his hand. He squats before you, moving his hand under your shirt.
“You know who I am, don’t you?” he asks.
You feel another kick, laughing at how your baby already has Tim wrapped around its finger. 
“You promised to make introductions,” you say, interrupting Tim’s conversation with your stomach.
Tim stands, cupping your face in his hands and kissing you. Breathless, you push against his chest as you break away.
“You were right,” you admit. “It would be nice to have you home more.”
“We did it,” Tim whispers, his eyes dropping to your bump.
“I feel like I’m interrupting something,” you mumble.
Tim chuckles, rubbing your back as he leads you to the door.
“Introductions, and then we’re going home,” Tim explains. “Names and nothing more.”
“I would expect no less, Officer Bradford.”
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roosterforme · 30 days
Text
The Younger Kind Part 56 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: When Bradley finally gets word about a return date, he has no idea what he's about to walk into at home. You tried your best to take care of things by yourself, but your visit to the hospital shows you how much you need someone with you for physical help as well as emotional support.
Warnings: mentions of blood, pregnancy topics, hospitals, mentions of miscarriage, swearing, angst, fluff, and age gap (18+)
Length: 4100 words
Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader
Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.
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You managed to get in the car even though Natasha was protesting. "What's wrong?" she asked at least a dozen times as she tried to call an ambulance for you. But you just told her you could drive yourself to the hospital to be checked out. You thought you said the word pregnant to her at some point, but you weren't really sure. Nothing was making very much sense right now. 
There was traffic on every road as dinnertime approached. Everyone else was going out for the night, perhaps for a family meal at a restaurant. You saw kids walking along the sidewalks with their parents, and you started crying. You didn't like leaving Noah to wake up from his nap with Natasha suddenly there instead of you. She would take care of him, of course, but it might confuse him. You didn't see what choice you had in the matter though, as your mind was flooding with worst case scenarios.
What was happening to the baby?
You sobbed as you ran through a yellow light to try to get there faster. What if it was already too late? You were educated enough to know that there were about a million different things that could be going on right now, and they ranged from innocuous to horrifying. Maybe you did something to cause some minor bleeding. Or maybe the baby was already gone.
"Please, no," you gasped as you parked at the hospital and walked quickly through the increasingly dreary weather to the emergency entrance. Your phone was vibrating in the pocket of your sweatpants as you headed right for the desk and blurted out, "I'm pregnant, and I'm bleeding."
The exhausted looking nurse looked up at you and said, "Please have a seat in the waiting area, and I'll come get you when I'm ready for you."
You blinked at her. "I'm bleeding," you repeated in a harsh whisper. "And I'm pregnant."
"Yes," she replied with a nod. "I'll be with you in just a minute."
You took a seat and cried, afraid to use the bathroom in the waiting area, terrified to see more blood when you wiped yourself. Anytime patients came to see Dr. Kelly, you made sure you took care of them right away, especially if they were bleeding or upset. You couldn't stand the tears that would well up in a child's eyes along with uncertainty and fear. 
But then you got it. It only took you a minute to understand that if there truly was something wrong with the baby, then there was nothing they would be able to do at this point.
Your phone was ringing again, and it was Natasha. As the nurse came to retrieve you from your seat, you texted her and let her know you made it to the hospital and to focus her attention on Noah. You were shaking again as the nurse took your temperature and blood pressure, and you wanted to scream at her to do something more than check your vitals. You needed an ultrasound. You needed a doctor. You needed someone to focus on why you were bleeding.
She handed you off to another nurse, and at least he smiled sympathetically at you and said, "We'll get you checked out in no time." But you could barely walk, and you felt his hand wrap around your bicep to keep you upright as he guided you into one of the many rooms in the emergency medicine corridor. "I'll get a doctor right in here, okay?"
His voice was calm, emulating what you tried to do at your own job, and he left you a gown to change into. Once he was gone, you put it on, afraid to check your underwear as you settled onto the narrow bed. The room smelled sterile, and the fluorescent lights were making you nauseous, but he was true to his word. You started counting to yourself, trying to keep track of how much time had passed without panicking, and a few minutes later, a doctor appeared in the doorway.
She spoke your name, and when you nodded, she introduced herself. "You're pregnant?" she asked you evenly as she reached for some latex gloves. She reminded you a bit of Dr. Kelly, and you immediately felt a little bit calmer. 
"Yes. About thirteen weeks along, and I just started bleeding like an hour ago." Your voice broke on your words, but you tried to keep it together. "I'm a pediatric nurse, so I'm not completely proficient in obstetrics, but can you give me an ultrasound and check? I need to know if the baby is okay."
"Lay back so I can see what's going on here." You did exactly as you were told as your heart pounded and panic rose within you. The baby was already so loved; you and Bradley were both looking forward to the due date. Sure, you'd been a little scared of the unknown, but the idea of miscarrying had you sick with worry. 
If Bradley were here right now, you knew you'd feel so much safer, but if the baby was gone, your preference would be to deal with this yourself. The disappointment on his face would be too much to bear. You'd rather never look at him again then have to see how sad he was going to be when you told him. If you had to tell him. 
You ran your thumb along the band of your engagement ring as the doctor gave you a quick examination. "Have you had vaginal intercourse in the last forty-eight hours?"
"N-No," you sputtered. "My fiancé is deployed. He's in Japan."
"Did you masturbate?"
You shook your head; you were so tired, you could barely clean up after dinner each day, let alone get yourself off. "No."
She pulled the gown down again and said, "It's most likely just your cervical tissue reacting to something, but let's get you taken back for an ultrasound to be sure."
"Thanks," you sobbed, letting your palm come to rest on your belly as you closed your eyes and tried to stay afloat in your own terrible thoughts. "I just want to know if I'm still pregnant."
------------------------
"Finally," Bradley muttered, running his fingers through his hair as he walked through the hangar with his helmet in his hand. Six weeks was a long time to be away from you right now. Too long, really. He had kind of fallen in love with flying Shadowhawk, but nothing compared to sharing a bed with you and reading bedtime stories to Noah. And he was itching to see the newest ultrasound photos.
He'd been confined to the Naval base at Yokosuka except for one day when the weather was too unsafe to let him fly. He took a short trip back into the city, chaperoned of course, but he was allowed to visit a bookstore. He ended up buying eight books for Noah and the baby, and he couldn't wait to show them to you. And he'd be able to do that soon, because he finally had a return date. If he did his math right, he'd be home in time to take Noah out to get candy on Halloween, as long as he wasn't delayed.
With just a few days left flying Shadowhawk, he really let the throttle tilt. He could hear Admiral Palmer warning him about his speed over the crystal clear comms, and he smiled before he responded. "Yes, sir. I'll ease off." But he didn't until he made a beautiful loop through the air. He was getting used to the ridiculous pressure on his body now, and when he got to San Diego and switched back to his Super Hornet, he was going to miss this feeling. He couldn't wait to try to describe it to you.
He knew what was coming. He was anticipating hours spent looking at his own flight data with the officers, but when the time came, he just felt antsy. The sixth-generation fighter had been moved back into the hangar for storage. He'd taken his last flight. His bags were packed, and he was ready to go home, but he had to pretend to be interested in what came next: at least fifty admirals sifting through data before anything would be determined. Bradley hoped these jets would eventually come to find a home with the US Navy, but it would be years from now if they did. He had done his part, and he wanted to be let loose again.
When he woke up on the day of his departure, he signed a final set of privacy forms before his phone was returned to him as he was ushered out to a car waiting to take him to the airport. He couldn't leave soon enough at this point. All he could picture was your face and Noah's, happy to see him home again. He could practically feel your body in his hands, and it was the only thing he wanted. 
Once he settled in for the short ride, he turned his phone on to find that he only had a tiny bit of battery left. Without even checking to see what time it was at home, he called you. He'd let his phone die talking to you right now if need be, and then he could charge it later. But you didn't answer. That was okay.
"Princess, I'm coming home. I'm on my way to the airport in Tokyo right now, and it's a ten hour flight. I think I'll be landing after midnight, so don't worry about getting Noah out of bed to come pick me up. I'll get an Uber or a taxi. I can't wait to see you, Baby. I love you."
He ended the call, and as soon as he started to investigate all of his missed text messages, the phone died. He was dropped off at the airport with barely half an hour to spare before his flight was scheduled to leave, and that's when he realized he didn't even have his phone charger with him. 
"Fuck," he muttered, rooting around in his bag but coming up with nothing. Maybe it got lost in his room in the barracks when he dumped his bag out? Maybe it was in his duffle which he checked at the airline desk. Regardless, he didn't have time to try to buy a new one, because his flight was already boarding by the time he found the gate. After questioning the flight attendants as to whether or not they had the type of charger he needed, he gave up hope, tossed his phone into his bag and tried to sleep for as much of the ten hour flight as he possibly could. He would be home with his family soon enough.
------------------------
You played the voicemail message from Bradley over and over again, but you could barely understand a word that he said. It sounded garbled and fuzzy, and it kept cutting out. He said something about being in Tokyo and something about Noah, and then he told you he loved you, but that's all you could figure out for sure.
"Can you understand what he's saying?" you asked softly, holding up the phone for Natasha to listen to it pretty much as soon as she walked through your front door in her uniform. "I've been trying to decipher this all day."
She took it from your hand and listened to it on speakerphone and then listened again with it pressed to her ear as she made a face. "Hang on," she muttered, playing it a third time. 
She'd been staying at the house with you since your overnight visit to the emergency room. She had essentially been doing everything for you and Noah so you barely had to lift a finger after work each day. You wouldn't have been able to do it on your own, but every time you tried to thank her, she told you it was no big deal and that Bradley was her best friend. You were afraid you were eating into her time with Javy, but she just rolled her eyes and said, "Hoes before bros."
She listened to the message one more time before she said, "It kind of sounds like he's coming home? And he's going to arrive after midnight? And he's getting an Uber from the airport?"
Your heart beat faster. "Do you think he means tonight?"
Noah came running into the living room with a coloring sheet in each hand and Skittles bounding after him. "Aunt Natasha!"
"Hey squirt," she said, picking him up and flying him around the room. She turned back to you and said, "Hopefully it means he'll be back tonight. Let's just leave the porch light on after dinner in case." Then she hauled Noah off to the kitchen where she started cooking while you took a shower. 
Dr. Kelly had immediately cut your hours back for which you were so thankful. She was very understanding when you talked to her. Tomorrow was Halloween, and it was Saturday. The plan was for Natasha to wear the costume you originally bought for Bradley, but if he arrived home tonight and was able to function tomorrow, maybe he'd want to go out to collect candy himself. You were just aching to see him at this point, and now your skin was tingling with the anticipation of him holding you.
After you ate, you tried to clean, but Natasha said, "I'll clean up after Noah's in bed." And then she sent you to the couch with a blanket while she and Noah took Skittles for a long walk down to the beach. You fell asleep there shortly after they left, and you weren't surprised that you ended up in your bed even before Noah was in his for the night. 
You let Natasha take care of everything while you tried to text Bradley again. You'd been trying all day, but he hadn't responded to a single one of them. You checked to see which flights were currently on their way from Tokyo to San Diego, and three of them were arriving late tonight. Honestly, the garbled voicemail had you on edge all day long, making you more exhausted than usual. You fell asleep hoping that he was on one of the flights and that he would be home soon.
And then you woke up to a loud voice coming from the living room. You jolted in bed, throwing the covers off of you in alarm before you realized that the voice was familiar.
"Princess? Baby, it's me! It's Bradley. I didn't want to scare you."
"Bradley," you gasped, jumping out of bed and grabbing at your nightstand until you could get your footing. "Bradley!" you called out a little louder.
"It's me, Baby," he answered. "Is Nat here? Why is her SUV in the driveway?"
You nearly collided with his best friend in the dark hallway, and when you both made it out to the dimly lit living room, you saw him standing there. Tears filled your eyes as you raced for him, and he picked you up into his arms and cradled you against his big body while Skittles whimpered at his feet.
"Daddy," you whispered, aware that Natasha was standing right behind you. "I missed you so much."
He kissed along your neck and your cheek and all of the parts of your face that he could reach as he said, "I love you. I love you so much. I missed you and Noah and the baby." He ran his nose along the shell of your ear and said, "Hey, Nat. What are you doing here? And why are you holding my mom's antique lamp?"
You turned to glance at her over your shoulder where she was indeed standing with the lamp in her hand at her side in her ratty old shirt and lounge pants. "I was making sure you were really you and not an intruder."
He laughed. "You were going to beat the shit out of me with a lamp?"
"Absolutely," she said with a yawn. "Welcome home." Then she turned and went back to the extra bedroom leaving the two of you alone.
Bradley's lips were on yours immediately, and even though you knew you had so much to tell him, you let yourself enjoy the indulgence of his kisses. You whimpered against his mouth and brushed your fingers softly through his hair. "I'm assuming we need to talk," he murmured. "You wanna tell me why she's here?"
You nodded and whispered, "Let's go to the bedroom."
He left his bags on the floor and carried you there immediately, setting you on the unmade bed and dropping down next to you. The room was pretty dark, and you curled up against his body, getting as close to him as you could. You inhaled his scent and soaked up his warmth, finally feeling better than you had in over a month. All of the fear seemed to wash away as he said, "I'm sorry I only left you that one message, but my phone died, and I can't find my charger. Nobody on my flight had the right one either, because apparently my phone is as ancient as I am."
You laughed softly. "I like vintage things, remember?"
"I do recall that," he replied easily. "Is tonight the first night Nat slept here?"
You took a deep breath and whispered, "No. She's been staying here for about a week to help out. Ever since I started... bleeding."
"Bleeding?" he echoed, his arm wrapping around you a little tighter as you nodded against his neck and tried to gather your thoughts. "Princess, what happened?"
His voice was alert and strong yet worried and cautious, and you told him, "I went to the bathroom last week, and when I wiped I was bleeding." His sharp intake of breath had you scrambling as you said, "The baby is okay."
"Are you okay?" he asked, gently rolling you onto your back to get a better look at your face. "Fuck. I should have never agreed to go away." He ran his big hand across your forehead and down your cheek. "Are you okay?"
"I'm okay," you promised as you cried for what seemed like the hundredth time. "I was just so scared," you admitted, your voice barely a squeak. "I was so scared the baby was gone."
You realized Bradley's fingertips were rubbing soothing circles against your side as he whispered, "I'm sorry I left. I'm so sorry I wasn't here to take care of everything. Please, tell me what happened. Tell me everything."
--------------------------
Bradley got you cuddled under the covers, and he turned the lamp on so he could better see your face. You looked beautiful if not exhausted, and he was so grateful for his best friend being there for you. "I guess I overdid it a little bit," you admitted. "I took some extra hours at work and started getting the bedroom ready for the baby. I just wanted the weeks to pass quickly, you know? When I started bleeding, I called Natasha, and she came right over. She's basically been here since then."
He kissed your nose. "What did the doctors do?"
You closed your eyes and whispered, "They checked me over. Every inch. And they found that I needed progesterone shots. They caught it just in time, so maybe it was good that I ended up there."
Bradley felt like an idiot, but it didn't matter as long as you were okay. "What's the progesterone for exactly?"
You smiled as you snuggled closer to him. "It'll make my uterus better for the baby. Safer. The injections are pretty common, and I only need to get them a few more times. But I'm tired of all the needles, and now I can kind of understand how some of my own patients feel."
Bradley laced his finger with yours and asked, "And you're sure you're okay? Perfectly safe and healthy?"
"Yes. The baby is, too."
He kissed your forehead as he realized he was crying. "Just as long as you're okay, Princess. I love you." You nodded as you fell asleep, and he knew how badly you needed to rest. After he turned the light off, he held you against his chest and tried to make sense of everything. 
You and the baby were okay. Your doctor and the staff from the emergency room were monitoring your blood work every week now. You were getting injections in your thigh which were making your leg sore and bruised, but it was helping the baby. As much as he'd loved flying Shadowhawk, he regretted his time away from home a little bit more now.
When you rolled away from him around six o'clock, he had barely slept. Carefully, he extracted himself from the bed, and Skittles came trotting right over to him. He picked her up and straightened out the wrinkled clothing he had been wearing for way too long, but when he walked out to his kitchen, he found Nat was already there. She turned to face him as Skittles started licking his face, and he walked right into her arms for a hug.
"Thank you," he whispered, letting her hold him while he cried. "Is she really okay? She told me she's fine."
She rubbed his back and said, "Mostly. I think. She is stubborn, Bradley. When I got here, she drove herself to the emergency room before I even had a full grasp of the fact that she was pregnant. She told me to stay with Noah until she came home, and when I told her I'd get Javy to come stay here while I met her at the hospital, she yelled at me."
"That tracks," he said softly. He thought about how you stood up for him and Noah and fought alongside him for custody. Even after you got hurt. Even after he hurt you. 
"She was terrified that you'd be upset about a potential miscarriage."
Bradley felt like she slapped him in the face. "Shit," he grunted as she released him from the hug. It wasn't like that kind of thing could usually be prevented. He would have been sad, yeah, but only because he was so excited. He wouldn't have been upset with you though. Not at all. "I'll talk to her more about that when she wakes up." He scratched his head and set Skittles down. "Did you clean my kitchen?"
"Yes," she replied evenly as she switched on the coffee maker. "And if you try to thank me for anything I did, I swear to god, I will fucking key your Bronco. I did it for her, because she needed help."
He caught himself before he could thank her again, too afraid to find out if she was telling the truth. She probably was. "I'll make sure she's getting all the rest she needs. She will not be lifting a finger around here."
"That's what I like to hear," she said, patting him on the chest. "Now, I'm going to take one of your travel mugs full of your overpriced coffee from your fancy machine and head back to my place. I'll call you later, and I'll stop by tonight to hand out candy to your trick-or-treaters while you take Noah around the neighborhood."
"Shit, I guess I need to go out and buy candy and costumes and everything."
As her coffee brewed, Nat said, "It's all been taken care of. The bags of candy are on top of the fridge."
Bradley glanced in that direction and said, "You have to let me repay you, Nat."
She grabbed the travel mug and pulled her keys out of her pocket, brandishing them in his face. "Fuck around and find out, Bradshaw. You will not thank me, and you will not pay me back. You'll just let me come over and play with Noah at least once a week now while you take care of your wife-to-be. Those are my terms. Have a nice day."
"Okay," he called out, following her to the door to make sure her key went directly into her own ignition where it belonged. Then he got to work, pulling up some recipes on his phone; he was going to attempt to be the best dad and almost husband in the entire world, because that's what his family needed. 
------------------------
If you have been through any of this kind of shit like I have, I'm sending you a hug. It's stressful and scary, and not something you should have to deal with alone. Bradley is home and ready to be the absolute best. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 57
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buckyalpine · 9 months
Text
Snacks and midnight
Imagine Bucky finding his adorably, heavily pregnant girl perched onto kitchen counter rummaging for snacks like a little gremlin in the middle of the night. He’d woken up, reaching over the bed to cuddle you only to find it empty. He snorted when he swiped his hand over the sheets feeling bits of crumbs left over from your secret stash of snacks. He rubbed his eyes, noting there was a trail of evidence that led out of the bedroom, the faint sound of crunching carrying down the hall.
Bucky swung his legs over the bed, trudging towards the source of the sounds, his eye growing wide at the sight before him in the kitchen.
“Oh my god”
You had crawled onto the counter, knees perched on the marble top, digging through the cupboards with your hands deep in a box of Oreos. You were too busy with your scavenging for snacks to hear the soldier walk in, huffing when you noticed there was only one box of Dunkaroos left.
“What you up to babygirl" Bucky cooed, quietly wrapping his arms around you from behind, holding you securely when you squeaked in surprise. You gave him a sheepish smile, leaning back into his hold while still scanning the contents of your spread; chips, chocolate and various sour candies all covering the kitchen.
"I was hungry" You shrugged innocently while Bucky shook his head, making sure you couldn't squirm around after getting caught in such a ridiculous position. "And so was Bucky jr"
"Bucky jr. told his mama to sneak into the kitchen like a mouse and crawl onto the counters?"
"I didn't wanna wake you and I couldn't reach" You rubbed your swollen belly for emphasis, giving him a pout when he cocked an eyebrow.
"Come down from there you little gremlin, I'll talk to my son about this later" Bucky gave your butt a light pat before scooping you up an carrying you back to bed, kissing the crumbs that clung into your bottom lip. "I'll buy you all the snacks you want first thing in the morning, how does that sound?"
"Including Dunkaroo's? I think Sam ate them all and he just likes the frosting"
"I'll buy Dunkaroo's"
"And chips? I need something salty"
"I'll get you chips babydoll"
"And donuts?" You batted your lashes at him knowing you hardly needed to, he was already a puddle of mush for you and your growing belly.
"Alright bunny" He chuckled, carrying you in his arms, loving the way you tucked your face into his neck with a content sigh. He gently laid you down, making sure you were comfy and fast asleep before shuffling down the bed and lifting you t-shirt up, eyes narrowed at your belly, his voice a low whisper.
"Now. Let's talk about your dietary choices and why your have your mama climbing the house like spider boy at 3:03am"
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