#pregnant reader

[rikissidepiece]

Baby daddy jungwon

Baby daddy jungwon who rubs your belly everytime his eyes land on it

Baby daddy jungwon who is proud of himself for putting a baby inside

Baby daddy jungwon who kisses your belly whenever you are cuddling

Baby daddy jungwon who loves to brag about becoming a father

Baby daddy jungwon who is patient through out your mood swings

Baby daddy jungwon who is constantly buying things for the baby

Baby daddy jungwon who buys you or makes all your cravings no matter how bizarre they are there’s hardly any questions asked but there’s hella judgement and he’ll ask questions like “is it actually good?” With a disgusted face like:

Baby daddy jungwon who shares his food with you even if you just ate or if he hadn’t eaten all day.

Baby daddy jungwon who goes to every appointment with you

Baby daddy jungwon who gets emotional when he hears the baby’s heart beat during a ultrasound

Baby daddy jungwon who always reassures you and tells you how beautiful you are because he knows that insecurities are hitting hard during pregnancy. “You’re the most beautiful girl in the whole world to me and you look even prettier with your baby bump”

Baby daddy Jungwon who often makes future plans involving the baby, that probably won’t happen until they’re six

Baby daddy jungwon who is excited to find out the gender and to be a father

[bunny-jpeg]

the bouncer & the missus

simon "ghost" riley

tags: smut/pwp, bouncer au, bouncer!simon, established relationship, simon's soft spot, pregnant!reader, car sex, clothed sex, pregnancy & breeding

a/n: want to suggest your own fic? the inbox is open! this rabbit runs on comments & reblogs!

"baby girl." simon said as he came over during his break. he saw you in a booth by yourself, happily on your phone and munching on a basket of fries and onion rings that simon ordered for you. he knew you ate dinner before you came to see him, you dropped him off his portion of the meal. he looked down at you.

he was wearing all black. from the backwards baseball cap hiding his blond hair to the tight black t-shirt that highlighted his tattoos. he looked at you with those deep brown eyes. he asked, "you and the peanut shouldn't be in a place like this." his gaze cast down to your swollen middle.

you replied, "i'm not drinking, si. plus, these fries are much better than any kind of alcohol." you leaned against the vinyl of the seat and rubbed your swollen middle, "plus, i can't sleep well tonight."

you were dressed in one of his sweatshirts, it covered you perfectly. plus the faint smell of cigarettes on it plus the body wash he had been using for nearly a decade. you also liked that it had your husband's last name written across the back. made you feel protected as you ventured out of the house to visit your beloved simon at work. underneath was a stretchy maternity dress because struggling jeans didn't feel like an option tonight.

simon didn't like you hanging around the bar, even before you got pregnant. now with the peanut on the way, he was extremely protective over the both of you. he got into the booth beside you and held your face while he kissed you on the lips. you kissed over the black medical mask over his mouth. he didn't take the thing off during shift except to replace it if it got dirty or ruined. he didn't want to ruin the mystery when giving a kiss to his missus.

you were knew around the bar was "the missus" or "mrs riley", you've always been known as that even before you got married to simon. it was why you were able to have both onion rings and fries!

he placed a wide hand on your belly and rubbed it gently. you rubbed your thighs together lovingly while you continued to eat. simon had a thing for your pregnancy. knowing that you were carrying his child, it excited the bouncer.

he was all tattoos and sharp edges. meanwhile you were painfully sweet, the total opposite. and together you made the most precious peanut you could possibly imagine. you were perfect for him. so of course he rubbed his nose up against your neck and you giggled against him. his touches got a little more firm, not enough to hurt. but enough to know that your husband was getting a good feel of you.

how could he not? he loved you, you were his wife. no one else could call themselves that! he even got a quick squeeze of your ass before you pulled down his mask just enough to kiss his lips in the low light of the bar.

you pulled the mask back over his mouth and asked, "how much time do you have left in your break?" you knew that this wasn't going to happen if you waited until you got home.

simon looked at his watch, the one you gifted him for his first, un-offical father's day. he said, "twenty more minutes." and before you knew it, you were being helped out of the booth by your adoring husband.

you ended up in your car, simon opened the door for you and shuffled you inside. you sat in the backseat with him. he chucked his mask into the dark of the vehicle. he kissed you passionately and his hands pushed up your dress. he touched your behind with a bit of force, but not enough to bruise you.

simon riley would never bruise his missus on purpose. he one time smacked your ass too hard it left a purple hand print and he spent a month apologizing to you. he managed to get your panties around your left ankle and his cock out of his jeans.

"there she is." he said softly, "my missus." he purred lovingly. simon, despite his rough exterior, loved you deeply. he loved you so much he almost didn't ask you out when you first met because he was worried a woman as amazing as you didn't need to be with someone like him. but you loved him all the same, every mark, scar, tattoo, all of it. it was what made your husband, your husband.

"i hope i'm not taking up too much room." you said with your hands on your middle. simon patted your belly with another hand on your hip as he assured you that you were fine.

"i'll always take up more room, love." he said. you didn't have much time, as much as he loved to admired his wife. the two of you had to be quick if this was going to work. the breathing between you two was hot as you sank down on his cock.

you groaned and nodded when simon asked you if you were okay. you let out a cute little moan and your husband silenced you with a hot kiss. you felt a tremor of pleasure in your gut as you started to rock your hips against him. he was so much bigger than you, so intimidating and scary. but he loved you. you were his wife, his everything.

"you look amazing, lovie." he said softly as you moved against him. your pretty painted nails dug into this shirt over his shoulders. your fingers grasped onto the black material.

your swollen middle rubbed against his abdomen and he loved the feeling. it was a big cramped with little room to get comfortable with. but this wasn't the most cramped space you ever had sex in. plus, simon could be any position and still cum because of your sweet cunt.

the movements were fast, but not rough. you bounced on simon's hard cock and he kept a hand on the top of your head so you didn't hurt yourself against the roof of your beat up little car. you felt the shift in your weight as you moved. simon eyed you with those dark beautiful eyes.

"there's my girl." he purred as he moved against you. you felt the swell of warmth in your soul from the movements. simon dialed for the roughness after you got pregnant. his girl needed some tlc, but no bruises. never bruises.

"mmm, please, simon." you arched your back a little and felt the excitement race through you. you held onto him tighter, his strong shoulders felt good under your touch. you felt the zaps of pleasure through your body.

simon rested a little more up against the leather seats as he held onto your head and hip to make sure that you didn't put too much strain on yourself. he rolled his hips up against you and you moaned a little louder. you felt the warmth radiate in your core as the two of you fucked passionately in the backseat of your care.

simon loved that your swollen middle was up against him. to feel so close to you. to know that he made you that way excited him. oh, did it excite him. he loved it. he loved knowing that you carried a big piece of him everywhere you went. you two made a family together, and that left simon aroused.

he was finally putting the seed to go use. dumped enough of it inside of his missus and now you were sprouting a lovely little bump. in a few months you'll have your son in your arms. you two moved together in a rapid pace, the kisses got hotter as did the steam on the car windows.

husband and wife doing it in a car behind the the bar. your noises got a little louder and higher in pitch as you felt the swell of want through you. it excited you, he excited you.

he kissed at your next with admiration. he carried all his love in his touches and kisses. he carried his love for you in everything he did for you. you were the center of his world. as was the baby you were carrying. simon riley finally got the family he always wanted and he'd make sure that you two were protected.

"i love you."

"i love you too."

your words sweet like honey as you felt closer to your orgasm. you felt a tightness in your chest as you tensed up from the heated want. the pleasure coursed through you as you felt so close to your orgasm. you continued to move up and down his cock until you clenched around him and orgasmed.

simon continued to with his cock into you, he felt a similar heat in his body as he moved you up and down his cock as much as he could. he could feel it all bubble up and eventually pour over. with a few more steady thrusts of his hips. he finished inside of you with a heavy groan. you two looked into each other's eyes and simon pulled you in for a heated kiss, "mm, my girl, always takin' care of me."

you held onto his wrist and looked at the time, "oh no. you better hurry up and you may have time for some food in your stomach!" you kissed him then struggled to get your panties back on. he kissed you before he got out of the car.

he pointed at you and said, "you get right home and don't stay up waiting for me. you and peanut need sleep. i'll meet you in my bed, mrs. riley."

you giggled from the driver's seat, composed enough to get yourself home, "don't worry. i'm well worn out, it'll be time for a cup of herbal tea and comfy pajamas." simon leaned in to kiss you on the lips deeply before he went back to the bar to finish the rest of his shift. you watched him leave and before you left the parking lot you looked down at your swollen middle and gave it a pat.

"you and i better get to bed, or else papa is gonna be worried. but maybe we'll make a quick stop to the corner store first for some ice cream." you giggled before you turned on the car and sped off of the parking lot. <3

[st3f13ily]

Shopping for the Baby

Gojo insists on buying baby sunglasses and a tiny blindfold "for training purposes."

Masterlist

You were tired. Your feet hurt. Your back ached. And you were already regretting letting Gojo Satoru—your overgrown man-child of a husband—anywhere near a baby store unsupervised.

Because somehow, in less than ten minutes, he had filled an entire cart with items that absolutely no baby needed.

"Satoru." you said slowly, staring at the ridiculously tiny pair of designer sunglasses he was proudly holding up. "What is that?"

He beamed. "Training gear."

Your eye twitched. "That’s not training gear. That’s a miniature pair of Gucci shades."

"Exactly!" he said, gently placing them on the baby mannequin's face. "Look at that. Instant swag. Our kid's gonna come out cooler than every adult in this store."

You crossed your arms, staring at the now swagged-out mannequin baby. "…They don't even have a neck yet, Satoru."

"They will," he said seriously. "And when they do, boom—drip activated."

You buried your face in your hands. "Why did I let you come with me?"

But Satoru wasn't done. No, he reached into the cart again and pulled out what looked suspiciously like— "Is that a baby-sized blindfold?!"

"Technically it’s a sleep mask," he said casually, like that made it better. "But I’ll make a few alterations. For training purposes."

You stared at him in disbelief. "Training for what? Peekaboo combat?"

Gojo gasped, offended. "You laugh now, but sensory deprivation is serious stuff! We gotta start them early."

"They’re not even born yet!"

"All the more reason to be prepared," he said, now seriously considering a baby-sized trench coat. "We don’t know if they’ll inherit my Six Eyes. What if they come out glowing?"

You gave him a flat look. "If either of them comes out glowing, I’m going to sue you."

He grinned. "You can sue me in kisses."

You rolled your eyes so hard they nearly left your skull.

Still, despite the nonsense, your heart warmed just a little watching him, bright-eyed, buzzing with energy, holding up each outfit and accessory like it was the most important thing in the world. He was already imagining all the ways he'd protect them, spoil them, embarrass them.

And as much as you groaned at the absurdity of it all, you couldn't help but smile when he turned to you, holding up a tiny onesie that said: "Daddy's Strongest Little Baby"

"…Okay," you murmured. "That one's actually kind of cute."

Gojo lit up like a Christmas tree. "HA! I knew you’d crack!"

You sighed, slipping your arm around his waist. "You're lucky you're pretty."

"I’m lucky you love me," he whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple.

You leaned into him, hand resting on your growing belly. "They’re going to be so spoiled."

He smiled down at you, his voice softer this time. "Only by me."

And as ridiculous as the sunglasses and baby blindfold were…

You couldn’t wait to meet the little chaos he was already so in love with.

"Now let's go home, Megumi and Tsumiki are waiting."

@lixisoul99

[oddlylovingaddiction]

Okay someone needs to write about this, you know those neglected batfam reader stories?? Hear me out on this…

You’ve grown up with the batfam, an accidental one night stand your mom had with Bruce, she died (as one does) and you get sent to live with your father Bruce.

It takes a bit but you quickly get used to being ignored after years of it happening. It’s more like you are a stranger to all of them, you were a regular civilian so you couldn’t relate to their secret bat duties, I mean when your entire family fights crime but you, you’re gonna miss out on bonding opportunities.

As you get older you spend time out of the house more, nobody cares cause nobody gives a fuck. And the more you get older the longer you spend outside, 1 day, 3 days… 1 week…. 5 months, 1 year etc.

Until one day you come back after 2 years, 8 months pregnant. Hell breaks loose.

“What’s that?” Damian says pointing to your very obvious pregnancy bump scrunching his face up confused.

“An alien, no use your head. What does it look like?” You reply annoyed, everyone is staring at you like you’re some sort of alien that just started speaking English. To be fair, it was kind of like you were. A male dominated family, where only the father was the only one bringing home biological and nonbiological children left and right, now all of a sudden you come home pregnant? That’s probably pretty alien to them.

“Listen I’m only here because I had a fight with my husband.” You sigh before Dick squeaks out “HUSBAND?” Like that was the most shocking situation.

Actually the most shocking part was who your husband and the baby’s father is, which you deliberately avoiding telling them about him. Until one night your husband breaks into the Wayne residence determined to win his lover back. 🤭

Edit: still a free prompt however!! I just want to add the official start of my version of this prompt is here!!! Go check it out!

[tootiecakes234]

Just thinking about being Kento Nanami’s pregnant wife!!🥺🥺

- He’d literally cry when you told him you were pregnant!

- went the very next day and set up a savings account for you future kiddo.

- You would start receiving order to your house everyday with baby stuff…( crib, blankets, toys, etc)

- morning sickness is a bitch but he never lets you go through it alone. Always holding your hair back and putting a cool cloth on your neck

- Pregnancy cravings at 2AM?? No problem! He doesn’t care if he has to drive an hour to get it!

- You wake up emotional?? He’s calling in to work to let them know he’s gonna be late.

- He will randomly walk up behind you and lift your swollen belly to provide you some release.

- Even after his long hours at work, he still comes home with then energy to pamper you because you are creating the most amazing gift inside so he will do whatever he can in his power to make that journey easier.

- when you tell him you water broke, he DROPS EVERYTHING to rush to you.

- he has a overnight bag all prepped and ready for you guys to head to the hospital.

- He is with you every step of the labor. Whispers reassurance to you the entire time and is willing to let you break his hand if you need to

- does the breathing exercises with you that you two learned together.

- CRIES AGAIN when they place the most precious human being in his hands.

- he can’t take his eyes off of them but when he does, he looks over at you and says thank you in a reverent voice.

- This man already worshipped the ground you walked on but now he’s down just a bad for the child you have.

*all I want is to be barefoot and pregnant for him🤷🏾‍♀️❤️

[onceinablueberrymoon]

intentionally by chance | husband!salesman x pregnant!reader

part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | series masterlist scenario: a month after seeing the salesman on his way to the airport, gi-hun returns to that subway station every day, hoping to find the salesman and confront him. this is where you come in. setting: takes place after the events of season 1, but before gi-hun hires the loan shark group to search for the salesman warnings: deception; pregnant!reader; no use of y/n; second person POV word count: 1.3k notes: salesman fluff! ♡ this guy’s been plaguing my thoughts for weeks now, so i had to write about him. my first fic in years! i like to think that S1 salesman is more chill than in S2. please enjoy! borders by @strangergraphics-archive

“Excuse me… Can you please help me?”

The red-haired man, who was perusing the endless options of cup ramyeon, turned in your direction, but remained planted a few feet away from you. 

“Me?” He pointed at himself.

You nodded, adjusting the items you were holding in your arms. “Can you grab me that cup of ramyeon from the shelf? I’d get it, but my hands are full…” 

The man walked over and retrieved your cup of ramyeon. As he handed it to you, he noticed your pronounced bump under your sweater and furrowed his eyebrows. 

“Miss, you’re in no condition to be carrying so much. Please, let me help you bring it to the checkout.”

With your approval, he unloaded the rest of your snacks into his arms. The two of you walked to the register, where you insisted on paying for his own cup of ramyeon. You suggested eating the ramyeon at one of the tables outside the subway station’s convenience store, but he insisted on sitting on a bench on the subway platform. 

“Is there a particular reason you wanted to eat here? It’s not the most ideal dining spot…” You slurped your noodles happily. The man ate slowly, popping his head up every so often and eyeing his surroundings carefully. 

“I’m… looking for something. Nothing you should worry yourself with,” he continued to eat his food while you gave him a skeptical look.

“Perhaps I could help? Well, as long as I don’t have to move very much,” you chuckled, patting your stomach. He gave you a soft smile before changing the topic. 

“Shouldn’t your husband be buying you food instead of you coming to get it yourself?” He gestured to your bag of snacks, and you giggled.

“My husband buys me all the food I want, but sometimes I just want to get out of the house! It’s no fun being cooped up all day,” you sighed. The man nodded in understanding. 

“It’s also nice to talk to other people, like you,” you smiled at him. He returned your smile, but then his eyebrows shot up when a sharp smack echoed throughout the platform. 

The man jumped up, his cup ramyeon forgotten on the bench. You turned to see where the noise had come from, only to find a group of students huddled around another student who had dropped their textbooks on the ground. From what you could hear, it seemed like they were holding them for a friend but couldn’t handle the weight.

The red-haired man froze for a few seconds, then sat back down, heaving a big sigh. 

“Are you alright, sir? There’s nothing to worry about – it was just some books that fell.” You tried to comfort the man in some way, but he brushed the incident off. 

“I’m fine. It just… reminded me of something,” he tried his best to give you a reassuring smile, but it didn’t convince you. “Don’t worry about me. Please eat,” he gestured to your unfinished ramyeon, “you need strength for your baby.”

The rest of your time together was pleasant, but you were still not convinced that the man’s reaction was nothing. You both finished your noodles, disposing the packaging and your utensils before parting ways. 

Once you returned home, you put the remaining snacks away and settled on the sofa. There were still a few hours before your husband was due home. You got yourself comfortable, curled up under a blanket, and drifted off to sleep.

“Rough day?”

You cracked open your eyes. All you could see was a blurry grey shape, but you already knew who it was. 

Blinking your eyes a few times, your husband’s handsome face came into focus, with his usually crisp grey suit looking a bit creased. His usual smirk graced his face as he looked down at you on the sofa.

“I should be asking you that. What happened to your suit?” You sat up and he sat down next to you, leaning his head on your shoulder.

“One prospective player became violent when he lost at ddakji for the 20th time in a row. Of course, I was able to subdue him, but it took more effort than usual,” your husband tried to press down a crease on his sleeve, but to no avail. He rested a hand on your rounded belly, gently rubbing circles with his fingers.

“How was today? I trust you succeeded in your mission?” 

You scoffed, “He was exactly where you said he’d be. I was able to have a conversation with him. We even ate ramyeon together for lunch!” 

Your husband turned to face you, an eyebrow raised. “You ate ramyeon together?” He gave a small pout, “I thought I was the only one you ate ramyeon with.”

Immediately, your face flustered as you explained yourself, “Hey, you know that I would never cheat!” Then, you scoffed, “We ate cup ramyeon, alright? Not whatever fantasy you’re imagining in that head of yours.” He laughed, pecking you on the cheek.

“Oh, but I have some exciting news,” you said with a sparkle in your eyes. “He’s still looking for you. And he’s basically gone mad trying to find you.” This caught your husband’s attention.

“While we were eating, there was a loud noise. Turned out that a kid dropped their books. But Gi-hun didn’t know that. He shot up so fast I swear I thought he was possessed!” 

Your husband seemed to take in your findings carefully, continuing his circles on your bump as if they helped him focus. 

“He wouldn’t tell me what he was looking for, but he specifically wanted us to sit on the subway platform, so I think it’s safe to say he’s searching for you.” Your husband had previously informed you that he had spotted a player he had already recruited at the Incheon Airport subway station, albeit with flaming red hair. After talking with the Frontman, he confirmed that Seong Gi-hun was indeed the winner of the 33rd edition of the Games. 

Once you shared the rest of your intel with your husband, you let out a big sigh. 

“Should I meet with Gi-hun again? It’d be useful to know his location and I could maybe gather more info,” you looked at your husband who had since sat up, but he didn’t take his hand off your bump. 

He pondered your question for a moment. “While I would benefit from knowing his whereabouts, I’m more afraid of something happening to you,” his voice sounded strained. “I wouldn’t be there to protect you and our child.” 

You leaned onto his shoulder, resting a hand on top of his on your belly. “We’ll be fine. If anything, Gi-hun was also concerned for me because of the baby,” you winked. “Maybe they’re the key to earning his trust.” 

Your husband’s lips tightened into a straight line. While he wasn’t happy that you would spend time with someone who clearly despised him, you were right — your pregnancy would lower Gi-hun’s defenses. You knew how much your husband’s schedule was impacted by Gi-hun’s constant presence on the AREX subway line. It would greatly help your husband if you could keep Gi-hun at one station while he recruited prospective players for the Games. 

Your husband kissed the crown of your head and stood up, attempting once again to smooth out the crease on his sleeve. “We’ll see. I’ll talk to the Frontman to see if we can get you any additional protection. I still don’t like the idea of you being around Gi-hun alone. If he learns of our relationship, I imagine he will use you as ransom,” he clicks his tongue, “We can’t have that now, can we?” 

You shook your head and stood up next to your husband. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him. 

“For now, continue researching prospective players. I’m almost done with your last batch,” he flashed his signature smirk, which you returned with a soft smile of your own.

“On it. Rumour has it that Tapgol Park has an abundance of people down on their luck…”

[vanteguccir]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤSURPRISE PARTY TOUR: BOSTON SURPRISE * MATT STURNIOLO

SUMMARY　::　Where is the Boston show of the Surprise Party Tour, Y/N is pregnant, and it's Matt's turn to bring his surprise.

FEATURING　Matt Sturniolo x reader　REQUESTED?　yes.

WARNINGS　::　being pregnant.

AUTHOR'S NOTE　::　that is my work, I DON'T authorize any form of plagiarism; copy, "inspiration" or translation! | english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

After a long two year wait, the Sturniolo Triplets Surprise Party Tour was finally on the road.

The buzz of the theater was really electric, the pre-show jitters vibrating as fans filled the seats just beyond the thick curtains separating backstage from the main stage. Y/N practically radiated excitement, her steps light as she roamed around, eyes scanning every corner for Matt.

She was beyond ecstatic, to say the least. Being on the road with the triplets was her absolute favorite thing, and she had missed it so much since their last tour in 2023.

Her oversized custom shirt - the one that Nick had personally designed - hung loosely over her frame, matching his own shirt for the night. She smiled softly as she walked past crew members, setting up last-minute details. Nick and Chris were talking to the organizer somewhere behind the stage, deep in conversation, but her only focus was on finding Matt.

Just as she rounded a corner, Paula’s familiar voice echoed.

"Y/N! You look stunning."

Y/N turned her head, catching sight of the boys’ stylist walking toward her, a warm smile on her face.

"Nick did amazing with this shirt." Paula continued, eyes scanning the outfit with approval. "It looks amazing on you."

"You're too nice, Paula." Y/N’s cheeks heated as she grinned. Paula always had a way of making her feel extra confident. "Have you seen Matt?"

"He’s still in his dressing room." Paula replied before a yell of her name echoed, followed by the woman quickly excusing herself.

Y/N continued down the hall, stopping in front of the door marked with Matt’s name. She knocked gently, the sound barely audible over the distant hum of the crowd outside.

Slowly, she pushed the door open just enough to peek her head inside.

"Hey." She greeted softly, her lips curving into a small smile at the sight of Matt's fingers fumbling with the button of his jeans, his shirtless torso on full display.

His soft blue eyes lifted to meet hers as she stepped in and closed the door behind her, and the moment they locked onto hers, his entire body seemed to relax just slightly.

"Hey angel." He muttered gently.

She wasted no time crossing the room, stepping into his space as her arms wrapped tightly around his bare waist. Her hands ran up the milky skin of his back, relishing the warmth radiating off him as she pressed soft kisses against his lips before tucking her head into the crook of his neck.

His arms wound around her immediately, pulling her so close she could barely breathe, but she didn’t care. She loved being wrapped up in him like this.

A heavy sigh left Matt’s lips as he rested his chin atop her head. He was holding her like he never wanted to let go, and Y/N could feel it - his tension, his nerves, the anxious beat of his heart against her own chest.

She pressed a hand flat against the middle of his back, rubbing small, soothing circles.

"Hey, deep breaths, baby."

He obeyed, inhaling deeply, his hands sliding down to settle against her hips. His thumbs brushed over the soft fabric of her shirt above her lower stomach as if grounding himself.

"M'so nervous." He admitted, voice raspy and low, his forehead dipping against hers. "Not about what my- our family will say, I know they’ll be happy. But the fans..." His arms tightened slightly. "I just- this is so big, y'know?"

Y/N smiled softly, tilting her chin to kiss him once more, her lips lingering in reassurance.

"They’re going to be so happy, Matt." She murmured against his lips, her hands cupping the soft skin right above his ribs. "And even if they need a second to process it, we have each other. We’ve always had each other."

His eyes softened, filled with nothing but love and admiration as he let out a shaky breath. He leans in even more, basically smothering her, but she doesn’t mind - he needs the comfort, and he’s always only been able to be calmed by her.

"I love you." He whispered, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead.

Before she could respond, a loud knock rattled the door.

"Matt!" Nick’s voice rang from the other side. "Are you dead in there? We gotta go!"

Matt groaned.

"Angel." He exhaled sharply, anxiously searching for Y/N's eyes one last time.

"You got this, my little star." Y/N nodded softly, and Matt's grip tightened for just a second longer before he finally, reluctantly, pulled back.

She smiled, squeezing his biceps one last time before stepping aside as he grabbed his shirt, ready to walk out onto that stage and into one of the biggest moments of their lives.

Matt, Chris, and Nick were lounging on stage like it was their living room, already used to the two iconic, slightly worn orange couches that had followed them across the country like loyal dogs.

Matt had claimed the right couch for himself, sitting cross-legged with a mic resting casually in one hand. On the left couch, Chris and Nick sat shoulder to shoulder, mirroring each other’s relaxed posture.

In the crowd, Y/N was in her usual spot - dead center, front row, the seat Matt always reserved for her. The one where he could look down and find her face instantly, grounding himself with just one glance.

But tonight, she wasn’t alone.

To her right sat Mary Lou, her hands folded neatly in her lap and a warm smile decorating her radiating face. Next to her was Jimmy, sitting tall and expectant, eyes scanning the stage like he was trying to drink it all in.

It was the first - and only - show they could attend, thanks to this tour stop being just a short drive from home. The last time they saw their sons on stage felt like a lifetime ago.

Suddenly, the giant screen behind the triplets lit up. A video snapped to life, flickering for a second before showing a clip of Matt fixing his tie.

And just like that, the room erupted. Screams shot up like fireworks, echoing off every wall.

Matt leaned back dramatically, flopping his free arm up.

"Alright, alright, chill out!" He grinned, voice teasing over the noise, trying not to laugh with the giddiness that came with his fans' reactions to himself. "First of all, I just wanna say, I deserve a full-blown award for keeping this secret."

Nick whipped his head toward him with a suspicious look, brows raised.

"No, I’m not even joking." Matt laughed, eyes wide with mock seriousness. "You guys have no idea how hard it was not to spill. Like, not just to you." He pointed at his brothers. "But to them too."

He turned, locking eyes with his parents, who were watching him intently, frowning.

"But when I found out we were doing a Boston show." Matt continued, voice dipping into something more sincere. "I knew this had to be my big surprise. I’ve been waiting for this moment for months."

The cheers kicked back up again - high-pitched, chaotic, and full of love.

"Okay, before we play the video, I need y’all to promise me something." He pointed toward the audience. "I need complete silence while it plays. Like, I want every single one of you to just sit back and take it all in." He smirked. "Don’t worry, you can scream after."

As the room quieted, you could feel the shift.

And then - click - the screen changed.

A home video. The inside of the triplets' LA house flickered onto the screen.

The camera wobbled for a second before being placed down on the coffee table. The image sharpened, revealing Matt's upper body moving a bit away from it, leaning down against the cream-colored couch, red hoodie up, grey sweatpants low, looking as cozy as humanly possible.

He waved at the camera with a little grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes yet.

"Hey, guys. If you’re watching this." He started, voice soft. "That means I finally get to say something I’ve been dying to share."

He ran a hand through his messy hair, exhaling slowly like he was about to let go of a weight he'd carried for way too long.

"This message is for two very important groups." He said, pointing toward the lens. "One, my family. And two, every single fan watching right now."

Back on stage, Nick was glued to the screen, eyes narrowed, completely focused. Chris, meanwhile, kept shifting, glancing between Matt and the video like he was trying to figure out what was coming next, his leg bouncing with anxiety.

"So, here’s the deal." Video-Matt continued. "Two weeks ago, something happened. Something kinda insane. And when I found out about the tour the next day, I knew... I just knew this had to be one of my surprises."

He leaned forward, eyes flickering down for a second as he nervously clasped his hands together, like grounding himself.

"So, uh... yeah. Here it is."

The screen went black.

And then a low, steady sound filled the theater.

Thump-thump.

Thump-thump.

Not music.

Not a voice.

Something deeper, more alive.

A heartbeat.

Small, fast, and impossibly real.

The video sharpened into focus, though clearly filmed on a phone, the angle a little off-kilter like it had been propped up in a rush. The room on screen was soft and warm, washed in late afternoon sunlight.

Not a studio, not a stage. A hospital room. Neutral-colored walls. A monitor to the side.

Y/N lay on the examination bed, her brown sweater lifted to reveal her lower belly, shiny with gel. Her leggings were pulled down slightly, allowing the doctor to gently move the ultrasound wand over her skin.

Matt was right by her side, and he looked wrecked in the most beautiful way. Completely undone.

His eyes were glassy and red-rimmed, cheeks blotchy with emotion. Tears slipped down silently as he gripped Y/N’s hand like it was the only thing tethering him to the planet. His commitment ring shimmered in the soft light as his right hand constantly - and very awkwardly - cleaned the tear tracks.

Y/N had her free hand over her mouth, her chest heaving as she tried to breathe through the sob building between her ribcage and going up full force. Her eyes were locked on the monitor, wide and wet, as a tiny, hazy figure wiggled faintly on the screen.

The doctor’s voice was quiet, almost reverent.

"That’s your baby’s heartbeat."

And Matt let out this broken, wet laugh, the kind that happens when you’re completely overwhelmed and overflowing all at once, a sob following right behind. He shook his head like he couldn’t even process what he was seeing.

"That’s our baby." He whispered, his voice cracking in half as he pulled Y/N’s hand to his lips and kissed it, keeping it pressed against his mouth. "That’s literally our baby."

Back in the theater, no one moved.

Not a sound.

It was like everyone in the room had just had the wind knocked out of them. Mouths covered in shock, eyes wide with disbelief.

Chris sat frozen, his jaw slack. Nick blinked slowly like he was trying to reboot.

Neither of them said a word - they couldn’t.

Their brother was having a baby.

Mary Lou, on the other hand, was already sobbing into her hands, her shoulders shaking, eyes covered in glasses tightly shut as if trying to hold back even more tears. Jimmy sat beside her with shining eyes, blinking back upcoming tears with a shaky inhale like he didn’t know what to do with himself.

On the screen, Matt’s watery smile stayed glued to the monitor, completely and utterly obsessed.

"Can’t believe y’letting me make you a mumma." Matt hums, almost in awe, like the words tasted too good to be true. "Gonna be the best, angel. I know it."

The video faded to black again.

Y/N, sitting quietly in the theater seat, was trying her best to keep it together, her eyes glassy and full. She pressed her pink tinted lips tightly together, like any little crack would shatter her.

The sound of her baby’s heartbeat echoed in her ears, and it was everything - terrifying, surreal, breathtaking. She clutched her stomach with both hands without thinking, her decorated nails lazily scratching over her shirt, like holding the secret tighter would make it easier not to cry.

Then, one last clip.

Matt, back in their cozy LA living room, sitting in his usual spot on the couch, his eyes slightly red but glowing, lit up with so much love.

"So, yeah." He sniffled, grinning shyly. "I wanted to tell you guys in the best way I knew how." He paused, visibly holding back more tears. "Y/N and I are having a baby."

He glanced off to the side for a second, sniffing.

"And we couldn’t be happier."

The screen went black.

Not a sound.

Not a breath.

And then, the world exploded.

Screams ripped through the air like a tidal wave, the theater shaking from the sheer force of it. Fans were crying, sobbing, yelling, clutching their faces in disbelief. It was chaos - beautiful, euphoric chaos.

Nick was the first to move, and he didn’t move. He launched. One second, he was sitting on the couch. The next he was across the stage, slamming into Matt with so much force, it nearly knocked them both down to the floor.

Chris was right behind him, eyes glossy, chin wobbling, and then suddenly, all three brothers were in this tangled, messy pile of limbs and love.

"Oh my god, Matt." Nick choked out, arms locked around Matt’s neck. "You’re gonna be a dad. You’re gonna be a freaking dad."

Chris was now crying - full-on crying - Fresh Love covered shoulders shaking, fingers gripping the back of Matt’s jacket like he didn’t wanna ever let go.

"I’m gonna be an uncle." He whispered, voice breaking like glass, pink lips wet with tears. "I get to be an uncle, man-"

And Matt just stood there in the middle of them, eyes wide, smile splitting his face in half, heart pounding like a drum solo inside his chest.

Down there, Mary Lou had already jumped to her feet, tears streaming down her face as she delicately pulled Y/N up and into her arms, pulling her shaking body into the warmest, tightest, most mom-like hug imaginable. The kind of hug that made everything feel safe.

"Oh, sweetheart." She whispered, voice shaking with emotion. "You just made me the happiest woman alive." She pulled back for a second just to cup Y/N’s cheeks, ignoring how her fingers got wet by Y/N's salty tears, soft eyes twinkling with pride and love. "You’re gonna be such a good mom. And I’m gonna spoil the hell outta this baby, just you wait."

Y/N couldn’t even speak. She just nodded, blinking through fat tears, heart hammering against her ribs.

Then, Matt looked down.

Somehow, in the storm of screaming and crying and fans limbs and lights, his eyes found her. His girl. Standing between the stage and the front row, being held by his mom, trembling hand over her belly, absolutely wrecked by the moment. Teary, overwhelmed, glowing in the most heartbreakingly beautiful way.

And something snapped in him.

He didn’t think.

He ran.

The bodyguards surrounding both sides of the stage went wild, arms outstretched, trying to block or guide him back, yelling over their earpieces.

But Matt didn’t care.

He dodged through them like it was instinct, ears muted to the fans yells from the front row, like his body was already halfway to her before his mind even caught up.

He reached her.

And without a word, without a second’s hesitation, he pulled her into the tightest hug, body accidentally hitting Mary Lou's in the process.

Big hands met Y/N's back, circling around her upper body, lifting her slightly off the ground as he wrapped himself around her like she was the only thing keeping him alive.

"You- you-" He stammered against her cheek, their tears mixing between skin. "You did this. You’re giving me everything."

He kissed her face - cheeks, nose, forehead - his lips shaky and soft and desperate.

And then, with one hand still on her back, the other reached for the mic.

He turned back to the crowd, chest heaving, heart out in the open.

"I’M GONNA BE A DAD!!"

The theater detonated.

Y/N laughed through her now ugly cry, burying her face into Matt’s neck.

And Matt just held her tighter.

"So that's the reason Y/N's been using more hoodies than normal."

© vanteguccir

[asxgard]

Heartbeat | [1/3]

Dr. Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x pregnant wife!doctor!f!reader

| Next

Summary: You get called in to assist with the mass casualty event on your day off and you’re grateful to be there when your husband finally breaks.

[ My Masterlist ]

Note: episode 13 hurt a lot so I wrote this to cope. Likely will write more specific stuff after I’ve fully processed.

Word Count: 4.4k+

Most of my works are 18+ due to adult language and content

Warnings: age gap (16ish years, I have a problem okay? The age gap trope feeds me), established relationship/marriage, hospital/medical inaccuracies, hurt/comfort, panic attack, foul language, angst (it’s who I am), gore/gun violence (Pittfest), vague details from ep. 11-13, pet names (baby, my love), non-graphic shower scene, fluff at the end because we deserve it after that episode???

not beta read

You had met Dr. Robinavitch when you started in the ED as an attending. While your love blossomed slowly, it bloomed into so much more than you were expecting. It had been a bit of a whirlwind, from dating secretly to Dana and Jack finding out only a month after, to getting engaged just a year later.

You had done what you could to keep it from the hospital administration, but the time came where you got married and paperwork needed to be filed. You kept your maiden name to ensure there was no confusion, plus it added to your privacy. Everyone you worked with knew you were married, just not to each other, but it was more of an open secret to some of the nurses and other attendings.

Gloria nearly moved you to a different department. She tried separating you by shifts, maybe hoping you would leave and find work in a different hospital. Michael was technically your boss, after all. In her reports, however, she found that when you two were on shift together, it was seamless. Like you two operated on a frequency that no one else was even aware of.

Despite the bumps in the road, and Michael’s aversion for talking about his feelings, you made it work. Some shifts could be frustrating, and that sometimes got carried home, but you respected each other immensely. Michael was not keen on letting such a good thing in his life go that easily, and eventually opened up about Adamson and the toll the pandemic had taken on him.

After that hurdle, everything else was easy. Eventually, you decided to grow your family, and you got pregnant not even five months later.

—

On the fourth year anniversary of Adamson’s death, you were surprised to find Michael preparing for a shift.

“Didn’t you take off?” You asked, watching him dress into his scrubs.

“Yeah,” he said, not looking at you. “Peterson had a family thing, and I know they’re short staffed.”

You frowned, “You could’ve asked me.”

“No, no, it’s fine.” He said, turning to look at you and his heart swelled at the sight. “I don’t want you to cancel your appointment.”

You sat on that for a moment. For as busy as you both were, Michael had made time for every appointment you had after finding out you were pregnant.

“I know, I know. I promise I won’t miss the next one.”

That satisfied you. For all Michael was, someone to break his promise was not one of them.

“I was hoping to find out the gender today,” you said with a tiny smile. “But a little anticipation never hurt anyone.”

He looked grateful at your words, moving to kiss you. He tasted like mint, holding your head so gently in his hands. Your hands moved to his chest, wanting to hold him against you, but you released him.

“Jake know yet?”

He smiled, “Yeah. He asked to take his girlfriend instead.”

You raised an eyebrow and grinned, “Oh?”

You and Jake had gotten close slowly, him being like a step-son to Michael, but now you loved the kid.

“If you need anything, just call, alright?”

He nodded, grabbing his coffee, giving you one last lingering kiss before heading out the door.

—

Your day was mildly uneventful, taking your time with a handful of chores before sitting out on the balcony to have lunch. Your OB appointment had gone well, and you got a recording of the heartbeat, knowing Michael might need to hear it after his shift.

As time moved, you missed that Michael had not been able to be there with you. You missed his touch and his presence beside you. Dinner came with a takeout box of your latest craving, before your phone rang.

Jack Abbot’s name flashed on your screen. You still worked a few shifts with him from time-to-time, but Michael had you mostly scheduled for days, with him.

“Hey,” you said when you answered.

“Did you hear?”

“That’s so specific, Jack,” you said, opening the fridge to scan your snack options.

“There was a shooting at Pittfest, unknown number of casualties. Closest trauma center is PTMC.”

Your heart stuttered to a stop, “What?”

“Heard it on the scanner. You’ll likely get an alert that it’s all hands on deck, but I wanted to give you a heads up before traffic got too bad.”

Despite not being super close with Jack, you were still friends and you knew he had your back. While you hated being treated with careful hands at work now that you were pregnant, part of you still appreciated the gesture of it. It was like something unspoken had happened between Michael and Jack months ago, both of them moving to take the more combative patients whenever you were around.

“Shit, Jack.” You breathed out, rushing into your bedroom to grab your scrubs. “Fuck, Jake is at Pittfest. Let me try to reach him.” You fumbled through your drawers, taking a deep breath through your nose. “I’ll be in. See you soon.”

“Drive safe!” He said before the call disconnected.

After changing, you moved to grab a few odd snacks and water bottles, stuffing them into your lunch bag, along with your cell phone charger. Who knew how long this was going to take, or if Michael had had the chance at any point today to eat. He hadn’t texted or called, but that was not uncommon. The Pitt never made it easy, which was why you were grateful that you worked most of your shifts with your husband.

You tried reaching Jake, leaving a voicemail and a text message before reaching out to his mother. You briefly explained the situation and asked for an update as soon as she heard anything, before you promised the same.

When you got into your car, you took a deep breath to steady your heart before beginning your way to PTMC.

Michael called you, your phone ringing through the car’s Bluetooth.

“Hey, don’t have much time, but I need you.” He told you, his voice quiet but full of so much emotion.

“I’m already on my way. Abbot called ten minutes ago. Tried calling out to Jake, too, he didn’t answer. Told his mom to reach out to either of us if she heard anything.” You said in a rush, coming to a stop at a light. Almost there.

He let out a breath that almost sounded like relief.

“I’ll see you in a few minutes, I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

The mass alert came through your phone as soon as he hung up. Thank fuck for Jack.

You made it into the parking garage, waving at the security guard now posted at the entrance. You sat in your car for just a minute to get your bearings, knowing tonight was going to be a shitshow.

As you entered the Emergency Department, you saw patients leaving, escorted by nurses and admin staff — and you moved quickly into the back. It was a circus, but you spotted Michael and Jack and beelined for them.

Michael’s brown eyes caught you as you approached and his face relaxed, though his shoulders were still tense. Dana was beside them, and her usual quip of “Oh I get Dr. R squared today?” did not fall from her lips, but she was sporting a black eye. You looked at her in alarm, but she waved it off.

“Just another happy customer.” She said, but you only frowned at her.

Michael spoke next, introducing you, and then quickly running down the new faces to you: Dr. Mel King, an R2, Dennis Whittaker, an M4, Victoria Javadi, an M3, and Dr. Trinity Santos, an intern. You tried to remember their names, but knew you would not likely remember them in the chaos.

You went to quickly put your stuff down, and when you turned around, Michael was standing there. To everyone else, he appeared neutral, controlled, normal. To you? He was wearing his shift all over his face and you could see plainly that it had not been a good one.

“This is going to be stressful, I should’ve let you stay home—”

While you appreciated his concern, you would have come anyway. “I promise, if I get too stressed out, I’ll let myself take a few minutes. But you have me. What can I do to help?”

“I need you in pink zone.” He told you, moving right back to business. “You’ll be with McKay and Javadi, and incoming night shift. But I need you at the head of it.”

“You got it.” You said, honored he was trusting you to run point on your zone.

—

While the victims did not stop coming, you found yourself moving mostly on instinct. Assessing, treating, moving along — trying to do your best to teach when you came across any of the new faces. You flitted into red zone when there was a particularly bad patient and then moved to triage so Dr. Shen could take a quick bathroom break.

When you assisted Michael, you moved together like a well oiled machine — and despite the tragedy, it came to you both naturally. You only barely registered the tension between Michael and Dr. Frank Langdon — a senior resident, and someone Michael had taken under his wing. You would have to remember to ask about it.

Time moved by in a blur, but you were painfully aware of every minute, every patient that came under your care. All the blood, all the death, all the tragedy.

It only got worse when Jake arrived, thought were thankful he was alive. He was asking about his girlfriend when you approached.

“Jake?” You got his attention as you began to take in his appearance. Jesus Christ, he was covered in blood.

“It’s mostly her blood,” he told you blankly, eyes moving around the room at the carnage. “It’s mostly her blood.”

You called for a wheelchair, your gaze searching for Michael. He was working on a patient, giving CPR from the look of it, the patient blocked from your view by the charge desk.

“Take a seat, Jake.” You told him softly, gently touching his shoulder. “Let me take a look at you, yeah?”

He sat down, his head swiveling around to locate his girlfriend. “I think—I think I got hit in the leg.”

You nodded, moving him into the yellow zone so you could bandage him up. You were not related and there were no official familial ties, so there were no problems of ethics — at least that was what you told yourself.

He moved to stand, and you pushed his shoulder back down.

“Let me assess you and then I promise I’ll go check on your girlfriend, okay?”

Jake nodded numbly and moved onto the gurney so you could look at his leg. His injury was not as bad as you had feared, and while you knew he would need stitches, you made do with some bandages for the time being.

“What’s her name?” You asked, trying to bring his attention back to you.

“Leah,” he told you, voice heavy with emotion. “I need to see her.”

While you did not understand the full panic he was experiencing, you knew Leah was in good hands.

“She’s with Robby, Jake. Leah is getting the best care.”

He was still not looking at you, and you got him set up with an IV antibiotic drip.

“Jake? Jake, can you call your mom for me? Cell service might not be great right now, but can you try? She’s worried about you.”

He took that information in slowly, before nodding.

The call did not go through, but you made him promise to keep trying while you assured him you were going to check on his girlfriend.

By the time you reached Michael, he was calling time of death and your heart constricted. You wanted to scream. By the look in his eyes, you can see he wanted to as well. You could feel Jack’s gaze on you and when you turned, he simply shook his head at you. You easily translated that to ‘your husband is not doing good’.

“I couldn’t save her.” Michael whispered, and only you caught it.

You gave his hand a subtle squeeze.

Jack was there then, reading the situation perfectly, “No one could have saved her. Maybe if this was a normal day, but it tore right through her heart. There was not much we could do.”

Fuck, you thought, she’s so young. You hoped she did not suffer.

Michael moved to find Jake and you followed him, but he stopped you.

“Can you take over for me in red so I can let Jake know?”

Every part of you screamed to go with him, but you nodded, turning to step back into pace with the work. You tried to push away your emotions, packaging them away to deal with later, but compartmentalizing was tough. You felt guilty for never meeting this girl, someone Jake had so obviously cared a lot about.

You attempted to get lost in the work, but you caught sight of Michael wheeling Jake out of Peds — the current place they have been putting the deceased — and the look on your husband’s face made your heart plummet. He had moved back into the room, leaving Jake just outside and you quickly gestured to a passing nurse to get him back to yellow.

The security guard did not make any comment when you walked into Peds, and you were devastated at what you found. Aside from the deceased, the number of them slowly ticking upwards, it was the sight of Michael on the floor in tears that truly struck you.

After ripping the curtain closed behind you, to block the view into the hall, and give you both just a small amount of privacy, you moved back toward Michael. It had been a long time since you had seen him like this. He had broken down when he told you about Adamson and the weight of his choice, and once he had even broken down after a particularly bad argument, but nothing like this.

“Baby, baby, hey,” you crouched down beside him, but you did not move to touch him.

His breath caught in his throat, but his sobs continued, hyperventilating with his arms pulled across his bent knees.

“Michael,” you tried, a name you had never called him when within the walls of the hospital.

His watery gaze met yours for just a moment, before his eyes were back in his lap, face scrunched. His ears were red, as well as his face, with red rimmed eyes that broke something in you.

“Michael.” You stressed again, moving so your hands hovered just above his arms. “Can you look at me?”

“I—I—I couldn’t—fuck—I didn’t save her.” His breaths came in short bursts, in in in out, in in out, tears coming down his face, his cheeks red.

You found yourself at a loss on how to help him — you knew none of his thoughts were rational at the moment, and anguish rushed through your veins, feeling so helpless. So useless.

An odd idea struck you, and you pulled out your phone before you could doubt yourself. You flipped through a few of your apps before settling on the one you had used to record your baby’s heartbeat.

“Can you take a deep breath with me?” You asked gently. You took a deep breath in through your nose and then out through your mouth.

You didn’t give him time to respond before you were pressing play on the recording. The sound of it filled the room with something other than Michael’s panic, and he quieted just enough to listen to it.

“That’s our baby.” You told him, though the sound of it was obvious enough, racing steadily like hoof beats.

His eyes found yours, and while he was still breathing quickly, he seemed to have returned to the reality around you, rather than stuck in his head. Relief took a bit of the weight from your shoulders.

“Can you breathe with me?” You asked again, finally touching his arm.

His hand found yours immediately and squeezed, but he nodded. You took a few more deep breaths, in through your nose and out through your mouth, watching as he mirrored you.

Aside from the quick beats of your baby’s heart, the deep breaths you both took filled the room. You desperately tried to ignore the dead around you, trying to solely focus on the man in front of you. When the recording came to a stop, Michael’s hand twitched toward your phone.

“Can you play it again?”

You nodded, pressing play and handing him your phone. The fast heartbeat filled the space again, and he cradled your phone like it was a lifeline. Maybe it was.

“Very active today.” You told him. “Wouldn’t sit still.”

A ghost of a smile passed over his lips, but it was gone in a moment.

“I have a video file that they sent me from today, but I didn’t want to look at it without you. Figured if either of us looked long enough, we’d be able to tell the gender ourselves.”

“Can we?” He asked, looking at you with tears still in his eyes.

You smiled, moving to sit next to him. You did not know how long the moment was going to last — sooner or later, someone was going to come looking for either of you. You tried to ignore it, trying to center yourself in this moment with Michael, forgetting about the outside world for just a moment.

Clicking on the video you had saved, you both sat quietly watching your baby move. Michael grabbed your hand in his and held it close to his chest. This was only going to be a bandaid, but any distraction was a welcomed one in that moment.

“They’re healthy. Measured 6.6 inches, 11 ounces.” You rattled off, moving your other hand to his head and running your nails along his scalp and through his hair. Any time in the past that he had had a panic attack in your company, you found that at the tail end of it, he enjoyed the feeling of your hands on him. Like it was grounding.

Michael’s hyperventilating had fully stopped, though a handful of tears still slipped through. His face was still scrunched in pain, but he watched the video attentively.

“You did all you could, my love,” you whispered. “No one could have saved her. Not even if it was all of us and just her. I’m so sorry.”

“Jake—”

You hushed him, “Jake is still in shock. He’s grieving. Whatever he said to you, he didn't mean it.”

“No, no, he does. I didn’t save her. I told him I would. I told him.”

You brought your lips to his temple, closing your eyes and willing no tears to come. You couldn’t, not now.

Michael tapped on the video again, watching as your baby moved, kicking against your womb like it was their job.

“It’s not your fault.” You told him, moving across the floor until you met his gaze. “I would never lie to you, you know that. I promise. If anyone could have saved her, it would have been you.”

His face scrunched again like he was going to cry.

You held him in your arms, squeezing him tight to your chest, hoping perhaps the more you squeezed, the more he would believe you.

You held his face in your hands, and willed him to look at you. “I love you so much, Michael. This was not your fault. Blame the shooter, they caused this whole thing. Jake will see that eventually, you haven’t lost him.”

Brown eyes held steady on yours, searching them with a gaze that nearly made you shy away. But you hold strong, wiping away the tears on his cheeks with your thumbs.

“Robby! Robby!” Dana’s voice came through the curtain, before it was pushed aside.

Dana only blinked at the sight of you, you knelt in front of your husband, both of your faces twisted and pained.

You found your voice, “Just two minutes, Dana. Please.”

She only nodded, closing the curtain again and disappearing.

“I can’t promise the rest of this is going to be any easier, but,” You paused. “Fuck it, if you want to leave, we can blame me right now. Say I have high blood pressure and you want to make sure I get home safe. I don’t care. Just tell me what you want and I’ll do it.”

You remembered all the times he covered for you when your morning sickness made you late, or when he had taken time away from the hectic flow to talk you through a bad case, or a death. When he shouldered the weight of an abrasive family member or aggressive patient, even before you were married. The times he let you leave early when you were having a bad day, or encouraged you to take breaks even when he didn’t.

“Let me try to take care of you right now. Please. Whatever you need.”

Michael took a long breath, rubbing his eyes. “Let me just splash some water on my face. After…stay by my side?”

“Done. If you need a minute, tell me to take a break and come with me. I can shoulder that right now.”

You did not say it because you thought he was weak, but simply because you felt you had the capacity to bear the brunt of the remainder of this shift. People knew he was going to worry about you regardless of the situation, so him ‘checking in’ would not phase them.

“Michael,” you started as you both moved to stand, him offering a hand to help you, “You’ve always been so great with Jake, just give him some time.” You paused, “You’re going to be an amazing father to our child.”

Tears flooded his eyes again and you felt like you had just made it worse while trying to make it better.

“You’re the best thing to ever happen to me. How on earth did I—”

You cupped his cheek and hushed him again, bringing his face to yours until your foreheads touched. “I’m the lucky one.”

He kissed you softly, before bringing you into a hug, careful of your growing bump.

When you parted, he took one last deep breath before facing the chaos that awaited you both out in the ED. You knew the heavier parts of your conversation were going to have to be shelved until you got home.

Michael moved toward the closest bathroom and you rushed back to red zone. There were no words to exchange with Jack, but with a knowing glance at him, he seemed to understand.

“Robby’s moving me to red. Bilal’s got pink covered.” You told him, referencing the night attending.

Abbot only nodded.

When Michael returned only a minute later, you watched him — had you not known him that well, you might not have been able to guess what had just transpired. You were thankful no one else in the hospital knew him as well as you did.

You got back to work, busying your hands to try to stop your mind from worrying too much. Whatever he had done in the bathroom, he had clearly thrown his panic attack into a bag and stuffed it deep inside his mind. It made your heart ache, but you would help him unpack it once you were both in the safety of your home.

Michael still made sound decisions, and not once did you feel the need to question his judgement. Jack was steadfast with you both, and you were grateful for him.

—

It was 10pm by the time the dust began to settle and the situation finally simmered to a more controllable level. You were beat and you had only been there a few hours, Michael encouraging you to take a seat and have some water while he checked on a handful of things. You took that moment to find Jake — who now had been stitched up and was with his mom.

“I’m so sorry, Jake. I really wish I could have met her.”

He nodded numbly, “You would’ve really liked her.”

A sad smile formed on your lips, “I’m sure I would have.”

You wanted to tell him to go easy on Robby, but the words did not form on your tongue. It was still too soon, and while you did not want Jake to blame him, you knew it wasn’t the time or place.

You parted from them sadly, before going to check on the med students and finally finding Michael with Jack.

It was a half hour later that you both finally left, Michael following you silently to your car. You were still digesting it all, wondering how the hell you were even going to begin processing it.

At home, you both quickly discarded your scrubs to the floor and made your way to the bathroom. It went unsaid that you both needed to wash this shift off, more so mentally than physically, but being clean would certainly make you feel better.

It was amazing how well you had learned to read each other, and you held onto him under the warm water for a long moment. He kissed the side of your head before grabbing the soap, sudsing up his hands and gently cleaning your skin. You relished in the feeling of him.

Once you rinsed off, you returned the favor. You moved your hands over his arms, his chest and then his back. You added a kiss here and there, knowing he enjoyed your touch just as much. He held your belly in his hands, eyes faraway again — but you brought your hand to his face to get his attention.

You kissed him, holding onto him and trying to translate all the things you felt into it. He returned the kiss and you felt yourself sigh in contentment.

It was quiet, but cathartic.

You both dried off, and changed before collapsing into your bed, Michael immediately pulling you close. You rested your head on his chest to listen to the calming sound of his heart.

Moving off his chest, you pulled him close to you and let him rest his head on you, his hand going to your belly. His breathing was slow and controlled, but you knew his mind was racing. You held him tight, your fingers going to his hair.

“I’d like to talk about today.” You said. “Not right now. Maybe not even tomorrow, or this week. But eventually.”

He was quiet, fingers absentmindedly drawing shapes on your stomach. “We can do that.”

“I’m here when you’re ready.” You told him.

He moved to press his lips to yours, peppering your face with kisses, before bringing you back to his chest. He held you for a long time and you did not even dare let go.

“I saw what it was.” He said.

“Oh?” You questioned against his chest, leaning your head back to look at him.

“Our baby.”

“Well don’t leave me in suspense.”

He grinned and kissed you deeply. Truth was, it didn’t matter. And as you held each other, you knew it was all going to be okay.

[ Next ]

All Dr. Robby Content: @cherriready

I need to give him a hug

[aspeni-cody]

hello 👋 may i please request a fic about giyu and pregnant reader going out and everyone is doting on her now that she is showing. her little bump makes giyu proud and happy too 🥹 thank you i really enjoyed your last piece.

---The Bump

Pairing: Giyu Tomioka x Pregnant!Reader

Setting: Demon Slayer Universe (canon era)

Genre: Fluff, Comfort

Word Count: ~1.1k

Warnings: Softness, mentions of pregnancy, a bit of teasing, lots of love

Author's note: thank you for submitting a request 🙏😖

I love making people happy 😁

Summary:

Your bump is finally starting to show, and during a walk through the village, the sudden doting attention from everyone catches you off guard. Giyu doesn't mind, though. In fact, he might be even more in love with you—and the little life you’re carrying—than he realizes.

> "You keep staring," you teased, nudging him lightly.

His gaze didn’t shift. “I still can’t believe it,” he murmured. “That you’re real. That this… we… is real.”

_________________________________________________

The village was lively that morning, the streets humming with the sounds of merchants and children laughing in the distance. Spring had painted everything in soft colors—pink petals fluttering in the breeze, sunlight dappling through budding trees.

You walked beside Giyu, your hand nestled in his while your other cradled the gentle curve of your growing belly. You weren’t that far along, but the bump had finally started to show. Enough that people had started to notice—and dote.

"You're glowing, dear! Here, take this—on the house!" a sweet old vendor cooed, holding out a neatly wrapped package of dried fruit.

You blinked in surprise. "Oh, I couldn't possibly—"

But Giyu, standing just behind you, accepted it with a rare softness in his eyes. “Thank you,” he said simply, placing the package in your bag.

The moment the woman turned away, your eyes darted up to him. “You didn’t have to take it—”

“I did,” he said, and there was a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “She meant well.”

As you walked further through the village, it only continued. One woman insisted you sit and rest for just a minute. A tailor offered to loosen the sash around your kimono, murmuring about how important comfort was for a growing baby. Even a group of small children paused to stare at your stomach, eyes wide in curiosity before running off giggling.

You blushed after the fifth person had offered you something.

“Okay, this is getting a little embarrassing,” you whispered under your breath.

But Giyu just gave your hand a squeeze and leaned closer. “I like it.”

You tilted your head at him. “You like me being fussed over?”

He didn’t answer right away, eyes scanning the road ahead. But his grip on your hand didn’t loosen.

“I like that they see you,” he said quietly, voice low and steady. “That they know how special you are. That you’re carrying our child.”

Your heart thudded at the way he said our child—with that subtle reverence only Giyu could manage without raising his voice.

You slowed to a stop in front of a vendor selling hand-carved wooden trinkets. Giyu paused with you, noticing how your eyes lingered on a small fox figurine. It reminded you of something you couldn’t quite place—maybe a story from your childhood. Maybe a hope for your own child’s.

Giyu bought it before you could protest.

“Giyu,” you whispered, touched. “You’re going to spoil them before they’re even born.”

“They deserve it,” he said without hesitation.

He glanced down then—down at the small swell of your belly that your hands kept brushing against protectively. And something flickered in his eyes. Not just happiness, but pride. A quiet, aching kind of pride that burned low in his chest like a steady flame.

You caught the way he looked at your bump—how he lingered there for just a second longer than necessary—and you smiled softly.

“You keep staring,” you teased, nudging him lightly.

His gaze didn’t shift. “I still can’t believe it,” he murmured. “That you’re real. That this… we… is real.”

You reached up and brushed a strand of dark hair from his face. “I’m here. And so are you. And soon…” You glanced down. “They will be too.”

For a moment, the world was quiet. Just the sound of wind and Giyu’s thumb brushing small, soothing circles over the back of your hand.

And then he surprised you.

He let go of your hand, stepped in front of you, and crouched just slightly—his calloused hand gently resting against your bump. He didn’t say anything, just closed his eyes, resting his forehead against your stomach for a quiet moment of reverence.

When he stood again, his expression was unreadable—but his eyes? They shimmered.

“I’m happy,” he said.

It was simple. Quiet. But you knew it was the deepest truth he could give.

And you were, too.

[floatyflowers]

Dark! Dracula x Single! Mother Reader

           

After the mysterious death of your husband, you meet the man he had been working for at the funeral, and it turns out to be none other than Count Dracula.

He offered you refuge at his castle, claiming your husband was a dear friend. He insisted he could not possibly allow his friend's widowed, pregnant wife to live in a financial crisis.

At first, you reject the idea, claiming it is improper. But after much pressuring, you accept his offer, feeling ashamed of yourself.

You only want your baby to avoid suffering from poverty.

Things seemed like a dream at first.

Dracula's servants treated you like a countess rather than a guest; anything you needed was granted to you on a plate of gold.

However, things take a sinister turn when Dracula begins to assert a possessive claim over your unborn child, referring to it as his own.

This unsettling behavior escalates as he prepares for the baby's arrival, going so far as to construct a nursery within his castle.

Disturbingly, he has even chosen both a male and a female name for the child, further solidifying his intention to claim it as his own.

You understood why the count had been acting so strangely when you walked in on him one day, catching him in the act of drinking the blood of one of the servants.

He hadn't noticed you as he drank, a look of predatory satisfaction on his face.

The servant didn't even have the energy to scream, their skin drained of color.

At that moment, the horrifying reality crashed down on you. All the strange deaths happening in town, the whispers of a bloodthirsty creature lurking in the shadows, it was him all along.

And the two puncture marks on your husband's neck, the ones you had attributed to an accident, were from his own sharp, elongated canine teeth.

"You are the devil," you hiss, the words escaping your lips like a venomous breath.

Moments before, you had fled the noise and chaos of his study room, seeking solace in the quiet of your chambers.

He had followed, his presence as unwelcome as ever.

"Devil? No, my dear," Dracula chuckled, his voice calm.

"I am merely a provider, ensuring the continuation of my lineage."

His words sent a shiver down your spine.  

Lineage. Your child.

This wasn't about friendship or kindness; it was about possession.

He saw your unborn child as his heir, a thought that made you feel physically ill.

"You won't have my child," you spat, clutching your swollen belly protectively.

Dracula's eyes, usually filled with a charming warmth, turned cold.

"You have little choice in the matter," he stated calmly, taking a step closer.  

"You are under my roof, under my protection.  This child," he paused, his gaze piercing through you,

"Will be raised as mine, and you will become my wife."

Panic welled up inside you, choking you with its icy grip, as he reached for your face. His long, cold fingers with perfect, long nails traced your skin.

"I don't want to stay here any longer. I will leave, and you won't hear about me anymore," you declare, your voice trembling with determination you hope your body will soon follow.

"You are not going anywhere," he scoffs, his voice dripping with disdain.

"Because you have nowhere to go, have you forgotten how people view widows? Especially pregnant ones who refuse to remarry? You will be shunned, left to fend for yourself and our child. This is your new and better reality, and you will learn to accept it."

A sharp pain forms in your abdomen, causing you to quickly place your hand on it.

Feeling witness, you look down only to acknowledge that your water has broken.

The vampire count also takes notice, a cruel smile spreading across his face.

"It seems our child has decided to grace us with their presence a little earlier than expected," he purrs, his voice laced with an eerie excitement.

He claps his hands together once, and two servants immediately appear at the doorway.

He commanded in a sharply authoritative tone.

"Prepare for Lady (Y/n)'s delivery. And ensure that everything is perfect in the nursery for our child."

You try to protest, to fight against the iron grip that seems to have closed around your arm, but your words are lost in a wave of pain as another contraction rips through you.  

                                ⋆☽◯☾⋆

The piercing cries of a newborn echoed through the stone halls of the castle.

The sound should have brought you relief, but instead, dread coiled tightly around your heart.

Sweat clung to your skin as you lay exhausted in the grand bed of the lavishly prepared covers.

Yet, as you gazed at the tiny, delicate features, the baby now is calm against your chest.

While Dracula stood at the foot of the bed, his dark eyes drinking in the sight before.

He has a family now, a wife and a son.

Walking to your side, he slowly leans down, placing a gentle hand on the baby's head, his touch lingering for a moment as he admires the sleeping child.

Not having the strength to fight him after a long labor, you allow him to have his way this time.

Dracula's smile grows wide as the child opens his eyes, finally deciding on what to name the baby.

"His name shall be Alucard."

[rafesgreasycurtainbangs]

Rafe catching you applying for more higher level jobs after the incident with telling Ward you’re pregnant

you don’t have to prove anything to me - rafe cameron x pregnant!pogue!reader

series masterlist

content: ward (ew.), pregnancy related stress, pregnant!reader, emotional distress, family conflict, self doubting

au: love writing these. keep the asks coming!

word count: 689

Rafe wasn’t stupid. He might’ve acted impulsively sometimes, let his temper get the best of him, but when it came to you—he noticed everything. That’s why, when he stepped into the bedroom that night and saw you curled up on the bed, laptop open, brows furrowed in focus, something in his chest tightened. You looked determined. Too determined. And that’s when he saw it—the email drafts, the open job applications, the résumés lined up on your screen like a desperate, last-minute attempt at control.

His stomach dropped. He didn’t say anything right away, just leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest as he watched you, waiting for you to notice him. It took a moment, but then your fingers slowed on the keyboard, and you sighed, rubbing at your temples before glancing over. The second your eyes met his, you stiffened. “Rafe,” you breathed, snapping the laptop shut like you’d been caught doing something you weren’t supposed to.

His lips twitched, not in amusement, but in something softer, something sadder. “Something you wanna tell me?” You hesitated, eyes darting away. “It’s nothing.” “Doesn’t look like nothing,” he countered, nodding toward your laptop. “Looks like a whole lot of job applications for positions you swore you weren’t interested in just a couple of months ago.” You swallowed hard. “I just… I just want to be prepared, that’s all.” “For what?” His voice wasn’t harsh, but it was firm. Steady. “Baby, we don’t need more money. You don’t need to prove anything.” Your throat tightened. “It’s not about that.” Rafe pushed off the doorframe, walking toward you slowly, carefully, like he was approaching something fragile. Maybe he was. “Then what is it about?” he murmured, sinking onto the edge of the bed, close enough to touch you, but not yet reaching out. He needed you to tell him first. You exhaled shakily, fingers curling into the blankets.

“Your dad.” Rafe’s jaw clenched. “I just—” You sucked in a sharp breath, shaking your head. “He made me feel small, Rafe. Like I wasn’t good enough. Like I was just… some girl who made a mistake. And I know I shouldn’t let it get to me, but I can’t stop hearing his voice in my head, and—” Your breath hitched. “I don’t ever want to feel like that again. Like I have to prove that I deserve to be in this family. That I deserve to have this baby with you.”

Rafe was silent. Not because he didn’t care. Because he cared too much. Because he knew exactly what it was like to live under the weight of his father’s expectations, to feel like no matter what you did, it would never be enough. And now, Ward had made you feel like that too. Something inside him burned. He reached for you then, cupping your face, his thumbs brushing softly over your cheeks. “Listen to me,” he said, voice low, almost rough with emotion. “You don’t have to prove anything to him. Or to anyone. You are enough—more than enough. For me, for this baby… for everything.”

You swallowed thickly, blinking up at him. His grip tightened, not harsh, but firm. Grounding. “I don’t care what he thinks,” Rafe continued. “I don’t care if he never comes around. I chose you. You are the mother of my child. And there is not a single doubt in my mind that you are exactly where you’re meant to be.” Your breath shuddered. “But what if—” “No,” Rafe cut in, shaking his head. “No what ifs, baby. Not with this.” Your eyes were glassy now, the weight of his words pressing into your chest. Rafe exhaled sharply before pulling you into his arms, wrapping himself around you like he could shield you from every cruel word, every doubt, every fear. “You’re everything to me,” he murmured against your hair. “And I swear to you, I won’t let anyone make you feel less than that again.” You buried your face in his chest, your fingers gripping onto his shirt like a lifeline. And for the first time since that conversation with Ward, you felt safe.

[rafeshit]

dad!drew x pregnant!reader

warnings — fluff and stuff :)

summary — drew being overprotective when you leave a hotel to see a swarm of paparazzi and fans at the doorway

—

You stand in front of the hotel room mirror, applying a final coat of mascara as Drew sits behind you, watching with an admiring gaze. You're both getting ready to head out to dinner, and you can't wait to dig into the food.

"Drew, I have been craving seafood all day," you say, setting the mascara wand down on the counter. "I hope they have some options at this restaurant." You groan, all you need right now is seafood, your whole pregnancy you had been craving it like clockwork.

Drew's face lights up with a smile. "You're in luck, because I checked the menu online and they have an entire section dedicated to seafood. You're going to be in heaven baby."

You let out a squeal, happy to hear that, and Drew gets up from his chair, walking over to where you stand. He drops to his knees, his hands on either side of your belly, and presses his lips to your stomach through the tight black dress, sending kisses all over your stomach. "Hey there, buddy," he coos, speaking to your bump. "Mama's been craving some fish, huh? Are you hungry, baby?"

As if on cue, the baby kicks, and you both laugh at that coincidence.

"Looks like someone's excited for dinner," Drew says, chuckling, looking at you.

You run your hand over your belly, feeling the pressure of the baby's kicks. "I think someone's been listening to our conversation," you say smiling.

Drew plants one more kiss on your stomach before standing up, holding out a hand to help you turn around. You take one last glance in the mirror, making sure your makeup is perfect, before grabbing your bag and nodding at Drew.

"Ready to go?" he asks, and you nod. as you head out the door, Drew wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. You lean into him, and step out into the hallway. As the elevator doors slide open, you and Drew step inside, pressing the button for the lobby. The ride down is quick and quiet, and your hands are interlocked with Drew’s as he kisses you on the cheek.

As you exit the elevator, you push through the glass doors, and surprisingly you're met with a swarm of paparazzi and screaming fans. You blink, taken aback by the chaos. "How did they even find us?" you wonder out loud, grasping Drew's arm for support. You'd only arrived in town today, and you'd been discreet about your whereabouts.

Drew shields your face from the flashing cameras, as you step outside. "Let's just get through this," he mutters, guiding you through the crowd. Fans reach out, begging for autographs and pictures, but Drew politely declines, mentioning your dinner reservation. You nod in agreement, trying to stay focused on getting through the crowd.

But just as you think you're making progress, a paparazzi grabs your arm, yanking you back. "How's the pregnancy going?" he asks, his camera lens inches from your face, flashing bright white flicks in your face, practically blinding you.

You stumble, almost losing your balance, but Drew quickly reacts, catching you. He shoves the paparazzi away with his shoulder, giving him just enough force to get him to back off. "Watch yourself, dick wad," Drew spat, "You could've hurt her."

The paparazzi sneers, but Drew's warning is clear. "You're going to need to do better than that if you want a shot," Drew adds. You take a deep breath, continuing through the crowd. Drew wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in even closer.

Finally, you see the black sedan waiting for you, and Drew opens the door, helping you inside. You collapse onto the seat, exhaling a sigh as the door closes behind you. "Are you okay?" Drew asks, moving a piece of hair from your face.

You nod, still shaken up. "Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks." Drew takes your hand and scans your face. "Anytime, baby. Now, let's get to that seafood, right?” He offers a smile, to which you could reciprocate.

As the car pulls away from the curb, you start to feel dizzy. The encounter with the paparazzi was more than you can handle, and the motion of the car isn't helping. You sway slightly to the side, feeling like you're going to faint.

Drew's eyes snap to yours, "Hey, hey, are you okay?" he asks, quickly releasing his seatbelt and moving closer to you.

You nod, trying to assure him, but the words get stuck in your throat. Your vision starts to blur, and you feel like you're going to pass out. Without hesitation, Drew takes your hand and pulls you into his side. He wraps his arm around your shoulders, holding you close, and begins to speak softly into your ear. "Take slow, deep breaths, baby. You're alright now. I've got you."

You nod, already feeling better as you lean into him. He tenderly strokes your hair, his fingers gentle against your scalp. "That was a close call back there." he says, verbally upset about it.

As the car continues to move, Drew holds you tight. Your dizziness begins to subside and after a few minutes, you feel well enough to sit up straight again. Drew helps you adjust your seatbelt and hands you a bottle of water from the car's mini-fridge.

"Here, drink this," he says, "You must have gotten dehydrated from the shock."

You take a sip, feeling the cool liquid soothe your throat. "Thank you.”

Drew smiles, "Anytime, baby. Now, let's get to that dinner and get you those crab legs."

“Thank God.” You chuckle. Upon arrival at the restaurant everything else went smoothly, you had a nice romantic dinner at one of the best restaurants in the city and you enjoyed your seafood by clearing off the entire plate. When it came time to go back to the hotel drew made sure to step out the car first and make a pathway for you by telling the fans that you were expecting and needing the space. They obeyed, because they were respectful as always.

Finally you reach the hotel room and collapse on the bed, drew following suit. he wraps his arm around your tummy and smiles at you, to which you smile back. He places a kiss on you lips and you both then prepare to get ready for bed.

[st3f13ily]

Can We Name Them After Me?

> Gojo jokingly suggests names like "Satoru Jr." and "Satoru II." You refuse. The debate continues for the whole day.

• Masterlist

• A week before the Twins arrived.

• I do not know what the second pictures are saying, I just put it there.

You were curled up on the couch, rubbing your growing belly, scrolling through baby name lists on your phone when you heard Satoru voice float lazily from the kitchen.

"So… I've been thinking," he called, opening the fridge like it personally offended him. "We should name them after me."

You paused, raising an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"Y'know, carry on the legacy." He wandered back into the living room, a bottle of water in hand and a cocky smile on his face. "The boy could be Satoru Jr. and the girl could be…" He tapped his chin, thinking far too hard. "Satoru II."

You blinked. "…You want to name both of them Satoru?"

"Why not? Double the Satoru, double the greatness."

You stared at him in pure disbelief. "Satoru, that is the dumbest thing I've ever heard."

He dramatically clutched his heart like you'd just stabbed him. "Rude. I thought it was brilliant."

You leaned back, rubbing your belly in circles. "No child of mine is going to grow up having to explain why they share the same name as their egotistical father. They'll get bullied before they even hit kindergarten."

"But think about it," he pressed, plopping down beside you with that playful, boyish grin. "Imagine me at the park: 'Satoru, come here!' And then two little voices run up at once. I'll feel like a king."

You deadpanned, "You already act like one. You don't need two minions named after you to confirm it."

But Satoru wasn't one to give up so easily. The entire day turned into a one-sided debate, with him popping out of random places around the house pitching name ideas.

"Satoru Jr. has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"

"Or! Satoruko for the girl. Cute, right?"

"Okay, hear me out: Satoru One and Satoru Two. Efficient and symmetrical."

By dinnertime, you were ready to file for divorce just to save the babies from that fate.

When you slid his plate across the table, you gave him a deadly serious stare. "If you suggest one more Satoru-themed name, I’m putting 'My wife is the Strongest' on their birth certificates."

Your childish husband froze mid-bite, chewing slowly, and then chuckled. "That'd be kinda cute."

You sighed, setting your fork down and glancing down at your belly, where a tiny kick answered like even the twins were done with his antics.

"They deserve their own names, Toru." you said softly, placing your hand over the spot where one of them nudged you again. "Not just copies of you. They're going to be their own little people."

Satoru looked at you for a long moment, and despite the fact he was usually all smiles, there was a flicker of something tender there.

"You’re right," he finally said, reaching across the table to squeeze your hand. "They'll be even better than me."

You gave him a gentle smile. "That's the plan."

Of course, the next morning, as you woke up, he leaned over and whispered against your ear:

"…But Satoru Jr. and Satoruko are still on the table, right?"

You smacked him with a pillow.

And the name debate continued.

[cherryredstarz]

Little Apple 🍎🍼

A/n: my ovaries crave daddy Caleb, that’s it.

Cw: pregnancy, birth, fluff, sweet little babies, semi-obsessive Caleb

When Caleb discovered you were pregnant, he was thrilled. Yes, he knew before you told him, but unsurprisingly, he knows you better than anybody (he’s been diligently tracking your menstrual cycle when when you begin ovulating for years).

When you gathered up the courage to tell him and show him two positive pregnancy tests, and scooped you up in his arms like a princess, kissing his beautiful girl senseless.

Caleb will do anything and absolutely everything to make your pregnancy as easy and comfortable as possible. He’d rush out at three in the morning to satisfy your pregnancy cravings, rub your swollen feet and calves in your later pregnancy. The colonel would even press his face into your pregnant belly, feeling the little one kick. Caleb is ecstatic.

He’s prepared with a hospital bag as soon as you go into labor, and safe to say, he was nervous. He’d hold your hand through your child’s birth, kissing your forehead and wiping away sweat from your body. Caleb will whisper words of love and encourage—it’s heartbreaking to see his pipsqueak in pain. He’ll stick up for you and defend your requests to pushy or overbearing nurses and doctors; your husband won’t let ‘hospital policy’ ruin your birth experience.

You give birth to a tiny, healthy baby girl—and Caleb feels a new type of love rush through his body—for their baby. A tiny, perfect being that is a result of your unwavering love.

Caleb would carefully drive you and your tiny infant home, and did everything possible to ease your burden and take care of your child. Late night feedings, comforting your baby while you get some much needed sleep, cleaning and cooking while you rest and heal.

At night, he’d cradle his daughter, his Little Apple, brushing his thumb against her soft, chubby little cheek. She was perfect, from her tiny feet to the sleeping pout on her lips. Your baby has your eyes and his nose and hair—she’s beautiful. And Caleb adores her fresh baby smell. Neither of you can get enough of it.

Your little family is utterly perfect.

[mintyys-blog]

QUIET KICKS | batfam x pregnant! batsis! reader

DC COMICS MASTERLIST | WARNINGS: pregnancy, complicated relationships,

It started small.

No one noticed at first. When Y/N dropped out of patrol for a “mental reset,” everyone figured it was burnout. That life was catching up. That being a Wayne and a vigilante meant she needed to breathe before she broke.

And maybe that was partly true.

But the real reason sat under her hoodie, growing by the week.

At 10 weeks, she officially stopped suiting up.

Barbara raised an eyebrow during their video call. “Since when do you take breaks?” she teased. “Last time you had a dislocated shoulder and still limped through the warehouse raid.”

Y/N just smiled. “Trying out the whole ‘self-care’ thing, you know? Big fan of not being thrown into concrete.”

Babs didn’t buy it, not really. But she let it go. For now.

At 13 weeks, Cass showed up at her apartment unannounced.

She stood outside with a coffee and a cinnamon roll. Y/N hesitated before opening the door—her hoodie just barely zipped up.

“You’re off,” Cass said after five minutes. She was direct like that.

Y/N chuckled nervously. “Is that your way of saying I look like crap?”

“No. You’re glowing. But… tired. Hiding.”

Cass stared too deeply. Too long. Y/N shifted behind the counter, hiding her stomach.

“Just worn out,” she lied.

Cass blinked slowly. She didn’t believe her. But she nodded.

At 15 weeks, Steph sent her memes all night and didn’t get a single reply. The next day, she cornered her on Facetime.

“You’re ghosting me,” Steph said, arms crossed. “You never ghost me. Even when you’re dying, you send at least one gif.”

“Been sleeping a lot,” Y/N said. “Sorry, hormonal. Cranky. Didn’t wanna snap.”

Steph squinted. “Hormonal? You sick or something?”

Y/N froze for half a second too long.

Steph leaned in. “Wait. Wait. What aren’t you telling me?”

Y/N forced a grin. “Just PMS stuff. Relax.”

Steph didn’t. She talked to Cass later. They looped in Babs.

A quiet investigation began.

The girls didn’t tell the boys yet. Or Bruce. They decided to try to coax it out of her instead.

So at 17 weeks, they planned an ambush brunch. Y/N showed up in a baggy sweater dress and a long trench coat, claiming she “was just cold.”

They talked. Ate. Laughed. She was still her—just… more cautious. A little slower sitting down. She pressed a hand to her stomach once when she thought no one was looking.

Cass noticed. Babs did too. And Steph? Steph reached out suddenly across the table and said, “If you’re pregnant, you know we’ll love the baby, right?”

Y/N froze. Her fork clattered.

Silence. The table went still. She stared at them. “I’m not—”

“Don’t lie,” Cass said softly.

Y/N’s eyes burned. Her breath caught. “I didn’t want to tell anyone yet,” she whispered. “Not even the father knows. We… it’s complicated. And I didn’t want to drag you all into it before I figured out how to be okay with it myself.”

Steph grabbed her hand. “You don’t have to hide from us.”

Barbara smiled gently. “You’re family. We protect our own. Even the tiniest ones.”

Y/N blinked hard. Tears slipped out before she could stop them. They didn’t push her for the name. Or the father.

They just held her. Whispered support. Laughed about onesies and argued about which of them would be the “cool aunt.”

And when Y/N felt that little kick under the table—the first one she’d felt during the day—she smiled through her tears.

Because for the first time in weeks, she didn’t feel like she was carrying a secret. She felt like she was carrying something

Y/N sat on her couch, hands cradling her now unmistakable bump, the sunlight leaking in through her curtains.

The brunch with the girls was three days ago.

Cass had started sending baby name suggestions via coded messages.

Steph ordered a “Best Aunt Ever” mug.

Barbara offered to hack medical databases for prenatal care access like a true Oracle.

But one thing still weighed like a brick on Y/N’s heart.

Hal didn’t know.

It had been months of silent panic. Of missed calls. Of “I’m fine, just tired” texts and white lies that tasted worse every time she said them.

He wasn’t absent, exactly. Just… off-world. Lantern duties. Cosmic threats. And when he was around, they met in secret. Quiet dinners. Stolen nights. His hand always warm against hers.

She hadn’t seen him in three weeks. But he was back now. She saw it in the JL logs.

And tonight—tonight she had to tell him.

11:47 p.m.

Her finger hovered over the call button. Then pressed. Hal answered on the second ring, voice bright and cocky like always. “Well, well. I was just thinking about you, sweetheart. Missed me that bad?”

She didn’t even answer at first. Her throat tightened. “…Y/N?”

“I need to tell you something,” she said quietly. A pause. His voice dipped low. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I just… I’ve been avoiding you.”

“Babe, I kinda figured. I thought maybe you needed space. Or your Bat-brood was clamping down.”

“No. It’s not that.” He went silent. Then, softer: “You’re scaring me.” She closed her eyes. Took a breath. “I’m pregnant, Hal.”

Static silence. “…What?”

“I found out a while ago. I didn’t know how to say it. I didn’t want to drag you into something life-altering without knowing how you’d react.” Another long pause. Then he laughed—not mocking, not cruel, just stunned. Disbelieving.

“Wait. Wait. You’re serious?”

“Yes.”

“I’m gonna be a dad?”

“…Yeah.” Her voice broke. “You’re gonna be a dad.”

There was a sound like he dropped something—maybe his ring had glitched mid-hover. Maybe he actually sat down. She imagined him in some motel room lit by neon signs, hand over his mouth.

And then: “Holy sh—I mean—wow. Wow.”

Y/N blinked fast. “If you’re gonna freak out, just—do it now. I already told the girls. I’m prepared.”

“No, hey—Y/N.” His voice steadied. “No freaking out. Okay? I’m—this is big. It’s massive. But I’m not bailing. Not now. Not ever.”

“You’re not… mad?”

“Mad? I’m the luckiest guy in the galaxy. I just… I need a second to catch up. You’re pregnant.” She smiled through her tears. “Seventeen weeks.”

“Seventeen weeks?! Oh, I’m so dead. Bruce is going to put me in a gravity well.”

“Don’t tell him,” she whispered.

He snorted. “Who do you think I am? I like breathing.” Y/N wiped her face. “So… you’re good? You want to be part of this?”

“Absolutely. I want all of it. The weird cravings, the mood swings, the late-night kicks—hell, I’ll build a crib out of hard light if you want me to.” She laughed. “You might need to.”

“I’ll be there tomorrow,” he said. “Whatever else is going on—this comes first.” Y/N closed her eyes. “Okay.”

“You’re not alone, Y/N. You never were.” She rested a hand over the steady kick under her ribs. “…I know that now.”

THE NEXT DAY

The knock on the door was gentle. Hesitant. It was also glowing green. Of course it was.

Y/N stood frozen in her apartment, one hand resting under her bump like a reflex. She hadn’t seen Hal in person in almost a month. She hadn’t told him she was showing. Not really. Not in pictures. Not in video calls.

But here he was.

She opened the door slowly. And there he stood, in civilian clothes—a bomber jacket, jeans, slightly scuffed boots, and the world’s most awkward grin.

In one hand: a bouquet of slightly squished peonies and daisies. n the other: a neon-green construct of floating toys—stackable rings, a rattle, a stuffed alien bear, and something that suspiciously resembled a baby-sized power ring.

“Hey,” he said.

Y/N’s eyes welled up immediately.

“You brought toys.”

“I panicked.” He stepped in slowly, eyes glued to her. “I didn’t know what to get. I figured flowers were for you, toys were for the little peanut.”

She laughed, her voice cracking. “The peanut?”

“What, you got a name already?” he teased, stepping closer.

His voice lowered as his eyes fell to her bump, more visible now that she wore a fitted shirt instead of her usual loose hoodie. His breath caught.

“Wow.” He looked genuinely stunned. “It’s… real.”

She nodded, swallowing thick emotion. “Yeah. Kind of hard to ignore now.”

“Can I—?”

She took his hand and gently guided it to her stomach. His fingers trembled a little. And then—just faintly—kick.

His eyes widened. “Oh, sh—” He stopped himself. “Oh, stars.”

Y/N smiled through her tears. “That’s been happening more often.”

“You feel that all the time?”

She nodded.

Hal exhaled, rubbing gentle circles. “You’ve been doing this all alone. All this time.”

“I didn’t want to pressure you.”

He shook his head. “You’re not pressure. You’re—you’re it.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Wow. That was almost romantic.”

“Hey, don’t make me recite space poetry. It exists. It’s weird.”

She snorted.

He looked up at her, the grin faltering into something more serious.

“I mean it. I want to be in this. I want to do this with you. The diaper disasters, the night feeds, the awkward ‘don’t touch that, that’s radioactive’ talks. All of it.”

“You’re not scared?” she asked softly.

“I’m terrified,” he said immediately. “But I’m more scared of you going through this thinking I wouldn’t want to be here.”

Y/N finally let herself lean into him, arms wrapping around his waist, her face buried in his shoulder. He held her so carefully, one hand protectively on her back, the other never leaving her stomach.

“You’re going to be such a chaotic dad,” she mumbled.

He chuckled against her hair. “Only fair. Our kid’s gonna have Bat-blood and Lantern trouble in their veins.”

She pulled back and looked up at him. “We’re going to have to tell the others. Eventually.”

Hal groaned dramatically. “Ugh. Your brothers are going to string me up.”

“Cass, Steph, and Babs already know.”

“Traitors. Should’ve recruited them to the Corps.”

Y/N laughed, and it felt easier this time. Lighter. Safer.

They sat down on the couch a few minutes later, her feet in his lap, one of his arms around her, his other hand still toying with the stuffed alien bear he’d made.

“You know,” she said, eyeing the plush, “you didn’t do terrible.”

“Thank you,” he said proudly. “I googled ‘baby toy that doesn’t look cursed.’”

“Impressive restraint.”

“I’m trying. For you. And peanut.”

The baby kicked again—maybe just to punctuate the moment. Hal grinned so big it lit up the whole room.

Outside the window, Cass sat perched on the opposite rooftop, sipping tea like a sniper.

“Target: secured,” she whispered into the mic.

Steph’s voice crackled back. “Lantern is IN. I repeat: Lantern is IN.”

Barbara, from the comms channel: “Tell him he’s not getting out of diaper duty. I don’t care if it’s intergalactic.”

Hal had only wanted a crib.

That’s it. One normal, not-made-of-hard-light, Earth-certified, non-collapsing baby crib that didn’t look like it came out of a cursed Pinterest board.

He’d even been doing well—he had narrowed it down to one that looked “safe and dad-like.” He was winning.

Until the voice hit him like a batarang to the kidneys.

“Hal? What are you doing in Gotham?”

He flinched so hard he nearly knocked over a display of cloud-shaped mobiles. Turning slowly, he found himself face to face with Bruce Wayne: tailored coat, unreadable eyes, and the kind of energy that said I’ve already solved seven crimes before lunch.

“Oh,” Hal croaked. “Hey, Bats—Bruce. Just, uh. Browsing.”

Bruce’s gaze dipped to the crib display.

Then narrowed.

“…At a baby store?”

“Looking at cribs?”

Hal nodded way too fast. “Yep. My girlfriend’s pregnant.”

A beat of silence.

“Congratulations,” Bruce said finally. “I didn’t know you were in a relationship—let alone a serious one.”

Hal snorted. “Like you’re one to talk…”

Bruce’s eyes sharpened like they were calculating a heat signature off Hal’s forehead.

“I see.”

Hal grabbed the crib box like a life preserver. “This one’s great. Five stars. Sturdy. No sharp corners. Doesn’t look like it’ll collapse and yeet my kid.”

Bruce blinked. “Yeet?”

“Yeah, you know—modern slang for catastrophic child ejection. Anyway. Never mind. Forget I said that.”

Bruce said nothing, which was worse than anything he could’ve said. His stare bore into Hal’s skull like a drill.

Hal coughed and tugged at his collar. “Sooo, you should… go. Or stay. Or not interrogate me. That’d be fantastic.”

Without breaking eye contact, Bruce calmly reached into his coat pocket and handed Hal a business card.

Embossed. Clean. Gold lettering.

“My contact for pediatricians. Private. Trusted.”

Hal blinked down at the card. “Wait—you’re giving me dad resources? You’re not mad?”

Bruce tilted his head. “Should I be?”

That. That was it. That was the line.

The one that meant: I know you’re hiding something. I just haven’t pulled it out of your skull yet.

Hal’s grin was so fake it practically squeaked. “Noooope. Everything is totally, completely fine and unrelated to any Bat-family members. No connections whatsoever. Thank you. You’re the best. Cool card. Love this vibe. Really healthy.”

Bruce took one last look at him. Then at the crib. Then at Hal again.

“Good luck,” he said softly. And walked away.

Just like that.

But Hal didn’t exhale until Bruce was gone.

He slumped forward over the crib, muttering into the mattress pad:

“Ohhh no. Ohhh hell. He’s gonna figure it out. He’s Batman. He already knows.”

A kid nearby picked up a plastic rattle and started slamming it against a toy box.

Hal pointed at him. “Exactly. That’s my future.”

He sighed, gripping the crib like it could shield him from the World’s Greatest Detective.

“This thing’s got more parts than a fighter jet.”

Hal muttered the words under his breath as he stared at the disassembled crib pieces laid out across Y/N’s living room floor. Screws, bolts, bars, and instructions that looked more like ancient scrolls—it was chaos. Plastic bags littered the floor. There was already one piece he was convinced didn’t belong to any crib.

Y/N sat on the couch, a pillow tucked behind her back, tea in hand, trying not to laugh too hard.

“You could just use your ring,” she offered sweetly.

Hal shook his head immediately, jaw set like a man on a mission. “No shortcuts. This is sacred work. Crib construction is a rite of passage. It’s gotta be done by hand.”

“With your manual labor and dad-muscles?”

He flexed one arm, completely straight-faced. “Exactly. Can’t have my baby thinking I’m some lazy light show.”

She rolled her eyes, the corner of her mouth lifting into a smile.

“You’re such a dork.”

“And you chose me. Sucks to be you.”

He fumbled with a screw, then cursed softly when it rolled under the couch. She just laughed, sipping her tea with an amused little hum.

After a while, she got up and waddled over to sit beside him on the floor, her legs crossed slowly. “You know,” she started gently, “I’m hosting dinner at the manor this weekend.”

Hal, halfway through attaching the crib railing, paused. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. All of them are coming. The whole Bat-family.”

He looked up slowly. “Like… all of them all of them?” She nodded, watching him carefully. “I’m going to tell them.”

Hal sat back on his heels, screwdriver still in hand. “…Tell them about the baby?”

“Yeah.”

He blinked. “And you’re sure it’s a dinner and not a trial by combat?” She smacked his arm. “I’m serious.”

“I know. I just…” He ran a hand through his hair. “Wow. Okay. That’s big.”

“They deserve to know. And I’m tired of hiding. It’s not just my life anymore. It’s theirs, too.” He looked at her belly, softening. “You’re right.” Her hand rested over his. “I want you there.” Hal froze. “Me?”

“Yes, you,” she said. “You’re their father, Hal. And you’re mine.”

He swallowed, throat dry. “You’re really doing it. Bat-family dinner. Pregnancy reveal. Me at the table.”

She smiled. “You nervous?”

“I’m terrified.”

She giggled, resting her head on his shoulder. “You’ll be fine. You’re building a crib with your bare hands. If that’s not bravery, I don’t know what is.”

He chuckled, wrapping his arm around her. “You really think they’ll go easy on me?”

“Absolutely not.”

“…Yeah, that tracks.”

Hal stood over the crib, tools scattered everywhere, sweat clinging to his brow. But it was done. Built. Solid. Standing tall like a tiny fortress.

“No alien help. No ring tricks. Just pure, raw, dad energy.” He looked proud. Y/N came up beside him, resting a hand on the edge. “It’s perfect.”

He kissed her temple, soft and slow. “We’re gonna be okay.” She nodded, voice small. “Yeah. I think we will.”

Wayne Manor was glowing.

Alfred had outdone himself. The long dining table was set with polished silver, gleaming candles casting soft, flickering light over everything. The good china was on display—an immediate warning that this was not a dinner for casual conversation.

Y/N stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the soft fabric of her dress, a trench coat over it— one hand smoothing over her barely-there bump. Her other hand, however, was tightening around Hal’s, who was currently trying to make himself as invisible as possible.

“You ready?” she asked, her voice steady but the slight tremor in her smile betraying her nervousness.

Hal, already sweating through the collar of his suit, tugged at it for the fifth time. “Absolutely not.”

“You look handsome,” she said, her voice gentle, reassuring.

“I look like I’m about to walk into a supervillain intervention.”

Y/N grinned. “You kind of are.”

His eyes widened, and he shot her a panicked glance. “Thanks, that makes me feel so much better.”

She kissed his cheek quickly and gave his hand a comforting squeeze, tugging him toward the dining room. As they entered, the Bat-family was already gathered, looking as polished and dangerous as usual, their eyes immediately locking onto the unfamiliar face at Y/N’s side.

Bruce Wayne stood at the head of the table, arms folded, his gaze sharp and calculating. His eyes narrowed the moment he saw Hal.

Beside him stood Selina Kyle, her gaze flicking between the two with a raised brow. Then there was Damian, the youngest but certainly not the quietest, who barely spared a glance at Hal before turning his attention to Y/N.

Cassandra Cain, Barbara Gordon, Jason Todd, Duke Thomas, Stephanie Brown, Tim Drake, and Dick Grayson all sat at the table, their eyes moving over Hal like he was a puzzle they were trying to solve. Kate Kane stood near the back, her arms crossed, and Alfred, as always, was overseeing everything with a knowing smile, clearly anticipating the chaos that was about to unfold.

Y/N stood in front of them, holding Hal’s hand tightly, and cleared her throat. “This is… my boyfriend, Hal. Hal Jordan.”

The room fell silent. “And he is the father of my child, I’m pregnant.”

Bruce’s glare could have melted steel, and the tension in the air was palpable. Even Selina seemed to be holding back a comment, while the others exchanged silent, knowing looks.

Hal tried his best to remain casual, though his smile was tight, his posture stiff. He cleared his throat. “Nice to meet you all.”

Damian, of course, was the first to break the silence.

“So, you weren’t fat? Just pregnant?” he asked, blunt as ever, his arms crossed, eyebrow raised in suspicion.

Y/N blinked, her face flushing a deep red. “Yes, Damian. Thanks for that.”

Damian gave a small nod of approval. “You’re welcome.”

The rest of the Bat-family seemed to struggle with either laughter or disbelief. Tim’s eyes flicked between Y/N and Hal, trying to process everything. Stephanie couldn’t hold back a snicker, while Dick looked at Hal with an eyebrow raised, as if silently daring him to say something that would make this more entertaining.

Bruce, however, was silent, his gaze still locked on Hal, studying him. There was no denying the simmering anger just beneath the surface, but whether it was directed at Hal himself or the situation in general, no one could quite tell. Selina, though, gave a small, amused smirk, clearly entertained by the tension.

“Well, I guess now we know,” Stephanie said, her voice laced with laughter, “you’re really full of surprises, Y/N.”

Y/N shot her a sharp look, then let out a sigh, squeezing Hal’s hand tighter.

“I wasn’t sure how to tell you all,” she admitted, her voice soft. “But now, I guess you know. Hal and I… we’re expecting.”

The room was silent for a few heartbeats. Then the questions began.

“Wait, you?” Tim blurted out, still processing. “Green Lantern? Really?”

“Green Lantern?” Duke’s voice was slightly incredulous. “Seriously?”

Bruce finally spoke up, his voice deep and controlled. “You’re sure about this?”

Y/N nodded firmly. “I’m sure.”

Hal, sensing the disapproval, took a step forward. “I get it. I know I’m not the ideal boyfriend material you were hoping for, but I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.”

Cassandra’s gaze softened slightly, but she said nothing.

“I’m not as bad as he looks,” Hal continued, half-joking. “Although I’d probably get in trouble for that one.” He glanced at Bruce, who hadn’t broken his glare once.

Dick, always the peacemaker, tried to lighten the mood. “So, uh, are we throwing a baby shower, or is that going to be the next surprise?”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “You guys are ridiculous.”

But despite the teasing, there was a warmth to the way the family shifted, a sort of grudging acceptance as they realized that maybe—just maybe—this was all going to be okay.

Bruce was still glaring at Hal, but there was something else there now. The faintest flicker of understanding, maybe even approval. He nodded once, short and clipped.

“Don’t mess this up,” he muttered, his tone somehow both a warning and a blessing.

Hal smiled, even if it was a little strained. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

[bunny-jpeg]

i have this little thought bouncing around in my head! single father simon. (a drabble)

*shrug*

simon ends up with his daughter winnie after her mother abandons her at his doorstep. he was the father, it was his turn to take care of her. simon could handle warfare, he could handle guns and sweat and metal. he could handle blood and bruises.

but a fussy newborn was a little too much for him.

enter you, it was your summer off from university and you were making extra money by babysitting for parents who couldn't afford weeks of posh summer camps. it was decent work and you were pretty good with them! so being concerned for your neighbour, simon's well being, you offered to watch winnie.

simon very well fell in love with you the moment you took the baby girl into you arms. winnie instantly got settled into your grasp, almost like you were her mother.

"what a lovely baby girl." you cooed, you looked at her with such affection already. you looked at simon and smiled, "she looks too cute to be yours." a playful jab.

you watched winnie while simon was at work. you didn't know what he did for work, but you tried not to ask too many questions. all you knew was that the checks didn't bounce when you cashed them.

but being with winnie for so many days had gossip go through the apartment building. you had a baby with simon? why were you in two separate apartments? where did the lovely newborn sleep? she SHOULD be sleeping with her mother (you).

when you tried to correct them, simon always said, "ah don't worry. we'll be havin' our own place soon enough!" his large hand snaked around your waist.

you just looked down at winnie who was sound asleep in her stroller. she couldn't care less who her mommy and daddy were. it wouldn't be hard to be the mother she'd otherwise be without, right?

that was the angle that simon too.

you'd make the most perfect mrs. riley. you were already taking care of winnie, but also him when he came home. you shouldn't be the nanny, you should be winnie's mama.

"she really loves you." simon remarked when you went with him to the pool.

you were in a one piece swim suit and you were making sure that the baby was out of the sun and had sunscreen on. you didn't want her to get sick or burned.

currently she was resting on your chest while you were in the shade. in your free hand you had a book in it and the other was on winnie's back. you said, "i don't know what you're talking about." as if you hadn't heard the comments from the little old ladies about how sweet you two looked.

"look like a real mama."

you looked to him and raised your eyebrows, "i thought i was the babysitter, mister riley."

simon placed a hand on your thigh then rubbed up and down, "nah."

it didn't take long for you and simon to get intimate. he asked you to stay because winnie had been having trouble sleeping. you two shared a glass of wine and then you found yourself face first into simon's bed. the scent of him filled your head as he fucked you into the comfortable mattress.

he loved the sound of your pussy as he fucked you without much abandon. the thickness on your hips would only grow once he made sure his next child was inside of you. you'd be such a good mama, unlike that previous bitch who left him.

maybe there was a good reason why she left him.

cum clung to the fuzz on your pussy lips and was a bitch to clean in the shower come morning.

he woke you up and said, "she needs her mama. she gettin' fussy, doll." then watched you stumble around to find clothes to wear while you checked on winnie as if the little girl was your own. his hand was wrapped around his cock. he wondered how many more times he could finish in you before you stumbled back to your apartment.

the answer was four.

it wouldn't be easy carrying for a sprouting little baby plus the baby boy you were currently pregnant with. you've put school off for a little while and moved in with simon, your due date was in the middle of the semester. now you were trying to figure out what food was good for a teething winnie while also trying to manage the riley son that was occupying your womb.

you were making dinner for your growing family with a cute little maternity dress of. simon was at the table with winnie. he knew that one day he'd have to tell her that you weren't her actual mama. but you were raising her and her little brother too.

"see there's mama." simon said in that grumbled voice of his, pointing in your direction.

you didn't imagine that you would've ended up as a stay-at-home mother to two children who were than a year apart. but as you felt the shift of your 'second' baby inside of you, you smiled.

you heard winnie make a little noise to get your attention. you checked on the pot of sauce on the stove before you turned away to check on your little girl.