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afreakingdork · 2 months ago

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Soft Spot - Chapter 14

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

Everything about this, I'm just obsessed with this week's chapter art by @grumpytheunicorn

Rated: Explicit

Warnings/Tags: Romance, Established Relationship, Married Couple, Married Life, Aged-Up Mutant Ninja Turtles, Villain Donatello (TMNT), Love, POV Second Person, Babies, Pregnancy, AFAB reader, Vaginal Sex, Rough Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Fertility Issues, Pregnant Sex, Pregnancy Kink, Reader-Insert, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Cum Eating, Turtle Noises (TMNT), I have a Biology Degree and I’m Using it, Menstruation, There WILL NOT be any Miscarriages

Synopsis: First comes love. Then comes marriage. Then comes the next step about as smooth as the others arrived. The baby-oriented sequel to Weak Spot.

Also available on Ao3

First 💜 Previous

LAST WARNING FOR THE 🍋 UNDER THE CUT. MINORS DNI!

Donnie entered the apartment first. You were close behind him and didn’t linger when he crossed straight over to his desk. He presumably had a lot of work to do both literally and mentally. The last 24 hours had been nothing, but whiplash for him and you didn’t mind giving him space.

He had one copy of the ultrasound photo and you had the other.

You looked over the black and white fondly from where you stood in the doorway. Your entire car ride back from meeting Dr. Kuro had been with a growing thought bubble. It had gotten louder and denser with each mile the car continued on.

You were pregnant.

You were finally pregnant.

You were downright ecstatic and finally allowed the idea to permeate all of your being. Though that was technically already true based on the embryo growing inside you, you were rocked by the chance to enjoy it, but squashed the idea of giggling. You were giving your mate time and tittered in your head. The only physical signs of your giddiness that you let manifest was your heart-shaped gaze at the picture of your bean and a hand that pressed low on your abdomen.

There was nothing there to feel yet, but you felt like there was. It was psychosomatic in your fervor and you currently didn’t care. You vaguely remembered Dr. Kuro giving you the timelines for trimesters, but the actual details of those were packed into the literature which weighed down your arm in what you considered a goodie bag.

Now was a good time to review those and Donnie’s desk would be the perfect place to lay all the pamphlets out.

You looked out toward there and found your husband’s silhouette against sleeping screens.

While he wasn’t using his computer, he was using the space as his hands flew over twin screens that he had laid against the desk proper as if he needed to match items between them. From here you could tell that they were calendars and you bet that was exactly what he was doing. It was his supposed neglect of notating dates that had gotten you to this point. With the many things he suddenly had to plan for, starting them all with the calendar made the most sense.

You let him be, but felt the urge to stay close and chose the kitchen. You had to wipe away a few crumbs, but the counter was soon clean enough and you propped your ultrasound photo up on a higher mantle before going to get the pamphlets. In no particular order, you carefully laid each tri-fold out in a row. There was a variety of details among them and you appreciated each; there was one about diet, one about exercise, one about your prenatal vitamin, one about bowel movements, one about stages of embryonic growth, one about things to expect in your first trimesters, and finally, one made by the clinic about mutant biology.

Dr. Kuro had been clear that the final pamphlet was technically out of date since you conceived.

You weren’t sure how you felt about that pressure. It had been an ongoing dialogue since you started trying to have a baby. Spencer had been the first to mention that if you were to get pregnant, it would be some kind of miraculous conception. Your pregnancy data was considered a valuable scientific marvel and, as much as Dr. Kuro said she was on your side, there was a growing expectation.

The world was either going to stand aside and sadly nod along if you lost the baby or you were going to be named in history books as the first human-mutant parent.

You cared about your child, not some ridiculous accolade.

You had never gone about trying to conceive with anything more than desire to have a baby.

You had always wanted to live in peace with your beloved mate.

You left the mutant pamphlet and chose the one about embryonic stages. It was a literal action toward your metaphorical feelings on the matter. No matter what anyone tried to do, you were going to keep your pregnancy and everything related to it as average as possible. You were going to go through typical steps and started by observing a close comparison to them.

The growth guide that unfolded in front of you made you smile.

You touched the illustration of a blob at eight weeks and, unlike Dr. Kuro, this picture said your baby was the size of a raspberry. You grinned at that and read the few paragraphs above the picture. It encouraged healthy practices for growth and safety of the baby. From how harped the concepts were, you bet you were going to get sick of the mantra.

Propping up the growth chart right next to your ultrasound photo, you decided to read the diet and exercise pamphlets next. The first mentioned loads of vitamins which you cross referenced against your prenatal medicine. It seemed like everything lined up with the addition of your calcium pill. Your medication was currently being filled. S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. who was also due to pick it up later and stop by for the supposed news even though you bet he was already peeping in the apartment.

You studied a list of low impact exercises that also kept you limber and thought about classes. There was a mommy walking group you had seen take off a few times near the gym and you wondered if you could join them. The thought had the notes in your hand loosen as you thought about change.

You would need to introduce yourself.

You were about to tap an as of yet unknown pool of people.

Would you need to make new friends?

Most people found it difficult to keep old friends after having kids.

Something about how interests no longer aligned.

According to what you were looking at, you were going to be a fundamentally different person. Not just physiologically, but time wise as well. All the pamphlets strategically ended at birth and you knew there was a reason for that. There’d be a whole new set of things to learn when the baby came. Children were small helpless creatures that needed 24/7 care. That sort of all consuming attention took away time. You wouldn’t be able to keep up with shows or movies. You wouldn’t be able to eat out at the same places. You would need a sitter if you wanted to go out with your husband.

A tiny life.

There was a dire nature to how much your child would need you, but at the same time it came with the bubbly feeling it had before.

You were going to be a parent.

You already were thanks to S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. but he was grown.

You pictured him as a big brother taking his sibling.

Donnie fretting about S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s hold even though you knew your son would already have downloaded all necessary guides.

You bet, in that way, he could be a better caretaker than you.

He would also be the perfect pick for a babysitter.

He didn’t need to sleep.

He had all knowledge at his fingertips.

He was basically omnipotent.

You dispelled the thought.

You would talk to him about what sort of brotherly role he wanted to play.

You decided you wouldn’t take advantage of him no matter how eager he was.

It took a village, you reminded yourself.

Your friends loved you and Donnie. While none of your immediate friends had kids, you didn’t imagine any of them would hold that against yours. You had a feeling Kaleb would be stoked on how tiny they were and you perished the thought if anyone tried to cross your child with Coral around. You bet she had no qualms with knocking over a toddler bully and again you had to wrinkle your smile to keep from laughing.

You fought giggles by checking the fridge.

Your current stock wasn’t necessarily unhealthy, but you had a feeling you were in for a major switch with Donnie around. While Dr. Kuro had brought up the concept, he had been clear that adjustments in eating were less about dietary change and more about making better choices. You needed to think about what fed through you and to your growing bean. That meant sweeping through preservatives and other hidden ingredient list items. You would need to grocery shop and Donnie probably had meal prep plans in mind.

You peered over the counter at your husband and found him looking very similarly to how he had before, but at a new angle.

His head was no longer down, but those calendars were still laid out in front of him.

He looked to have forgotten them as he was now looking up.

At first glance he seemed to be looking at the blackened monitors, but his gaze was slightly tilted.

Clipped between the dark screens was clearly your ultrasound photo.

You could see both from his visage and the reflection in the monitor that he was staring at it with overflowing love and affection.

You felt the same and were moved.

You tossed the folded cardstock aside and rounded the counter. Your action was enough to catch his eye and his head pivoted to you. You watched that glowing affection taper off. It slowed your progress as reality seemed to crash around your husband and he returned to adjusting calendar items.

You utterly deflated and stood in stasis just a few feet from him.

It was you then.

Your monumental upkeep to produce his progeny was a distraction.

The negativity of the thought made your eyes widened and you blew out the bitter steam. You weren’t sure where that came from, but you now wandered closer to your mate because you were uncomfortable. He moved little as he continued to take notes and you pressed into his back for the sake of it. A mental levee was lowered and you let your anxiety leak through your bond. It washed over your partner with an immediate effect and he moved straighter against your press.

He was around you in an instant. “Darling?”

That darkened thought sounded again about how he only worried now.

You squashed it with a reminder that he couldn’t know you were upset unless you made him aware.

“A lot to think about.” You chose to say.

Donnie nodded and examined your bundle in his arms.

“I have a feeling I know, but what are you thinking about…?”

“Tasks.” He dipped his beak into your head to bury himself in your scent. “Analyzed by importance.”

“There’s a lot to do.”

Donnie nodded.

Negativity about where you landed on that list rose as bile for a third time and you pushed against your husband’s plastron.

He released you with growing wariness.

“Brain’s bad.” You told him and pressed the heels of your palms to your eyes.

“Concerning.” He supported your elbows cautiously. “I won’t try to understand your position.”

“Hm?” You opened your hands up to peek at him.

“A baby…” He murmured and looked down your body. “The dangers to them, the dangers to you, all that will occur. Pregnancy. Birth. I won’t comprehend.”

“Oh.” You lowered your arms into his hold. “You’re saying you won’t do the whole, ‘I get what you’re going through’ thing?”

He nodded.

“Not what I was worried about…”

He popped a concerned vowel.

“This may sound like a weird time to ask but… you still…” You grappled with the words and found yourself prone to them. “… love me…?”

He lit with so much fear that it burned your finger through your wedding band.

He hoisted you up into his arms before you could complain.

“Y/N...! Where did that…!?” He gave an animalistic snort to clear his head. “Pardon. Yes. Of course. Without doubt, fail, or interruption. My love for you is endless.”

He immediately soothed you and you felt bad for the bubble of doubt.

You squirmed against him until you could hug his head tightly and buried your face into the top of his mask.

“Sorry.” You mumbled there.

“Don’t be. Reassurance.” He reminded you. “I am alarmed by the timing.”

“How so…?”

“I can only imagine this is connected to insecurity regarding our young?”

“That makes it sound like we’re having more than one…” You lifted from him.

His expression appeared as staunchly troubled.

You pet his cheeks.

He frowned further.

You kissed his head once and relented with a soft sigh. “It is the timing.”

He made a knowing noise.

You pursed your lip slightly. “Not because I’m pregnant though.”

It was the first time you had said it.

It was the first time he had heard it said.

You stared at each other even though you already had clear confirmation and let the importance of the moment sink in.

He then returned to his worries and his brow wrinkled.

You ran your fingers over the drawn on marks.

“You were crushed when I wasn’t before and I couldn’t help. I was there, but it wasn’t something I could fix…”

His head tipped a little as he watched you.

“I felt… helpless. I know you said I helped, but…” You let your eyes close and took a breath before continuing. “Now we have so much to do for the baby and I can’t help, but think I’m… in the way? I don’t know exactly, but I guess… maybe I’m jealous? That sounds terrible, but…?”

“Incorrect. Wrong.” He blurted out before he seemed to realize that obvious reason wasn’t comforting. “Y/N, this is only possible because of you.”

You shifted in his hold and felt a thought percolate about how you were nothing but a vessel.

He felt your concern and set you down to pour over you. “This is difficult.”

“Yeah…” You scrubbed a hand over your face. “Yeah.”

“I would not be able to entertain these thoughts without you.” He tried again.

You watched him and weren’t sure if that was better.

Distress leaked across his features.

You frowned along with him.

“Okay.” He announced as if to reset. “I imagined my life alone.”

That garnered a bit of a smile. “You don’t have to go that far back…”

“I might.” He relented a little and leaned further into you.

You reached up and caught him for a hug.

He sank further into you and just barely offset his weight.

You giggled against him.

He nuzzled into your neck and nipped at your chin.

It brought more gaiety.

“In no other circumstance would I bring a child into this bleak world.”

You blinked up where your vision had gone to the ceiling.

That was a new take.

You weren’t sure how you felt about that either and squeezed him out from your throat. “Donnie…”

“You gave me hope for existence. That there was more. That I had a hand in its contribution. That our boundless love invites the same. Faith that I could be a suitable father, though I still believe otherwise.”

“I seem to remember thinking neither of us could be good parents...”

He bobbed to slight attention.

He frowned.

His cheeks puffed out the slightest amount then he returned his attention to you.

“This is difficult.” He complained with more ire.

You laughed.

He lavished in the sound.

“I know what you mean though; you’ve said it before.”

“Reassurance.” He pressed.

“I did ask for it…” You chuffed.

“You are my heart and I want children with no other.” He felt that the phrase was uttered how he intended it and oozed satisfaction.

You were slow in tucking close to him and nuzzled in your praise.

He churred openly.

“Because of me?” You whispered.

“Of course.” He agreed with a similar volume.

“You wanted kids though…”

“No.” He picked you up in his arms.

You tapped him to keep him from carrying you somewhere. “You said…”

“With you.” He had a pout to him.

“Desire for children.”

“With you.” He spoke with some force.

“You have a breeding kink! You knew about it before me!”

“You can have an inclination and not want to act on it!”

That sounded familiar, but you couldn’t place it as a quote.

“It’s the taboo. That’s the allure!”

Something occurred to you then that never had before. “Your birth control.”

“What about it?”

“You’ve used it before.”

“Your intention?”

“You’ve cummed inside someone else.”

He seemed ready for further retort, but the thought caught him.

You watched as the memories preyed on him next.

He held you a little bit closer and appeared troubled.

“Your taboo and allure, you’ve-”

“Not the same.”

“With someone else-”

“It’s not the same.” He nearly growled.

“Donnie…”

“You’re my only love. My devotion. I had sex prior to you, but not love.”

“But you…”

“I will explain.” He had obvious distaste for the matter and turned suddenly without letting you go.

You clung to him and he located his chair.

In another rotation, he plopped down into it with you in his lap.

You blinked at him.

He met your gaze and exhaled slowly. “We’ve discussed my previous partners on a surface level, but not in this way.”

“Donnie, you don’t have to-”

“I do.” His eyes flashed a warning.

You made it obvious that you resented his attitude.

He softened some and pleaded with you. “I want to squash your concern. I don’t mind sharing. I am infuriated that a comparison could be drawn. It illustrates a failing of mine. This falls outside reassurance. I’ve failed to impart this importance. Your importance.”

Hearing that, you understood better and settled until you were comfortable enough to listen.

He petted your arm for a while to calm down before he spoke. “Setting aside feral instinct, a creampie has a possessive connotation. Pregnancy can be seen as a form of ownership with a child as a permanent bond.”

Your head lifted where it rested against his plastron.

“I never wished to seize that sort of control. I saw sex as a tool and a creampie was ritualistic success. It was demeaning to the other. A humiliation that they were subjected to by me in conquest.”

“A different kind of control.”

“Right.” He shuddered a little as the thought repulsed him and he adjusted you so more of you was pressed to him.

You spread out your arms to give him more contact.

He relished in it. “Not with you.”

“You wanted me to take all of you.”

“I wanted to consume you.” His eyes closed. “I still do.”

“What else is there for you to have?” You tried to tease.

He didn’t share the levity and dropped his gaze to look at you. “A lot. You get away with much.”

You shrank a little.

“You value your autonomy and thus I do the same.”

“Yeah, no, you’re right. I didn’t forget… You were always clear… I just…”

“I am lucky you enjoy my company as much as you do.”

“Donnie!”

“The truth.” He lowered his head to level with you. “I savor our codependency and, were I to have met you even a moment earlier, then I would have gone to nefarious means to ensure a level of it had you not exhibited the same.”

You knew he was right, but tucked into him. “All those times you came in me early on…”

“Inclination without action. How I wanted to possess you. Entrap you. Have you grow heavy with my child. Have you always. Yet there was no chance.”

You hugged him tightly.

“That is not what’s currently occurring.”

You shifted with question.

“Those were early thoughts. Anxious ones from when I hadn’t told you the truth about me. ‘I still do’ is the sense that I will always want more of you, but our child is not a chain. They are a celebration of our love.”

“’Why do anything?’” You repeated something he had said that you remembered clearly. “We’re creating it now because we can.”

“Because I want to do this with you.”

“The ultimate form of creation.” You leaned away.

Donnie’s eyes lit up a little as if he hadn’t thought of that.

“Yeah…” You recalled a bit from his past. “You always wanted to be left alone to work. Having a kid is the ultimate form of that. That’s work. That’s something only you, unique you, can create.”

“With the same of yours…” His grip shifted.

You readied yourself.

He smashed his lips into yours and you drank him in.

You pulled on his mask tails as he almost suffocated you.

He relented at the last dizzying moment and you gasped against his lips.

He churred loudly.

“Love you…”

“You.” He pecked one cheek. “You.” He pecked the other.

“I’m better…” You looked up at him.

“Good.”

“Thank you.”

He shook his head.

“Yes.”

He was vehement and disagreed straight into your lips.

You kissed more languidly and he broke with sugared rumbles.

“I have a confession.”

“Another?”

“Before was for clarity. This will be for guilt.”

You studied him. “What did you do…?”

“For a few hours, I have known something that will upset you.”

That would place you back in Dr. Kuro’s office and you narrowed your gaze.

He shrank the slightest amount and sent his eyes off into the room.

“Donatello.”

“I know exactly when we conceived.”

“Huh!?” You hadn’t expected that.

“Yes.”

“But you weren’t tracking.”

“We learned you are at eight weeks.”

“Yeah…?”

“Eight weeks ago…”

You tried to think that far back, but too much had happened today.

“My… insertion exercise…” He grimaced.

“Oh.”

“That means…”

“Oh.”

“Right…”

“You…!” You sat up straight and sent him a crazed look. “… did not get me pregnant from edging!!”

“Think of the timeline. Exactly eight weeks ago was one of your projected ovulation windows. While I don’t recall scenting it, I wasn’t near as honed. We hadn’t had relations prior. You had been free of cum for a week leading up to and then another after as we abstained from sex due to the resulting rash…”

“I noticed!” You remembered him jolting during your appointment. “When Dr. Kuro said how long, you freaked out because you put it together!”

“Yes.”

“We got pregnant from edging!!” You groaned loudly.

Donnie took full blame and stewed in it beside you.

You belted out more distress before collapsing into your mate. “We tell no one. I’m going to pretend it was anything else.”

“But-”

“No. You can have any other anniversary you want, but this one is off limits.”

He held out for a few seconds before he accepted.

“This is worse. So much worse than me thinking I was unloved.”

Donnie snorted his offense.

“Obviously, not really, but kind of!”

He tipped you so he could overlook you with a dry expression.

You pinched his cheek.

It didn’t hurt him and he leaned into your touch.

“Any other notes while we’re at it?”

“We won’t have the results of your tests for a few days, but I’m inclined to agree with Dr. Kuro’s assessment of your womb.”

“The mutation…?”

He twitched at the word, but still spoke. “I don’t believe you are mutated.”

“Then what?”

“It’s the damned Empyrean.”

You recognized the word even though you could rarely recall it. “The substance that made yokai.”

“That I believe made yokai and was catalyst for mutants. Yes.”

“Sure.”

“As we’ve discussed, my DNA is, in a sense, elastic. The doctor’s reasoning is sound. Empyrean could very easily develop your womb. The properties the fool Draxum added only increase effectiveness of transformation. From what I’ve studied of my own blood, there is hyper cell generation and adaptation.”

“It’s permanent.”

That note scorned your husband. “Y/N.”

“We’re bonded.” You put your left hand over his concealed mating mark. “I have no plans to be with anyone else, let alone have kids with them.”

“I fundamentally changed you…”

“Like you hadn’t already?”

He sulked.

“Permanent scarring.” You squeezed his shoulder.

“Not a positive trait.” He spoke bitterly.

“Donnie you bit me our first night together.”

“I didn’t mean to.” His teeth warned.

You were unaffected and moved into his face so he couldn’t run from your attention.

Weak willed eyes met yours.

“I kind of like it.”

He scowled. “We agreed, no mutation.”

“I’m not mutated.” You spoke his earlier comment with the same candor.

You had him there. “But you are changed.”

“To better have your babies.” You spoke with a sultry sound.

A small peep escaped him.

“How far will the development go?” You leaned into him so he could feel your breath. “How much will our chances of conceiving raise?”

“You’re not mutated.” He repeated the fact as data to keep himself sane. “There will be a limit.”

“You think?” You looked at him up through your lashes.

“Continue and you will need to mount me.”

“Promise?” You ghosted your lips over his cheek.

“Fuck!” He groaned, lifted you, adjusted his legs, and sat you back down all in a way that said he’d dropped right then.

“How long have you-?”

“Your babies comment! I would not be turned on by your misery!”

You chuckled, knowing that well.

“Need you.”

You nodded and kissed him each time your head lifted.

He churred in a desperate boon.

You slid your hands down his plastron and were quick in undoing his belt and fly.

He lifted you and moved his legs again to shove the fabric down enough to free his cock.

It hung out of his jeans in proud attention.

You stroked him once before you hopped off the chair to undress.

He followed up your touch by fisting his length for an impatient pump.

You gave him a playful grin as you hopped out of your bottoms.

“Your breeding kink is only gonna get worse huh?”

He nodded sharply. “Say it again.”

You knew what he wanted repeated. “I’m gonna have your babies.”

He openly moaned and stroked himself with more purpose.

You swatted his hand away as soon as you were nude. “One now, more later.”

He squeaked out of his control.

You crawled back into his lap and he slid his hips down to accommodate you.

You got a leg on either side of his thighs.

“As many as we can.”

His teeth snapped wetly as he caught your hips.

You pried him off.

He whined.

“Keep me big.” You put one hand to his shoulder to stabilize yourself and the other down between your legs to line him up.

He popped and trilled.

“This is safe, right? Sex.”

“Yes.” He drooled the word and sucked on oxygen to reason himself. “Yes. No complications. Should be completely safe.”

“Good!” You sank down on him.

He immediately came forward in a bear hug and caught your ass so you swallowed his shaft. “More. More.”

“Make sure everyone knows. Everyone will see how well you bred me.” You lifted along with and he forced you down hard.

You both groaned at the connection.

“I’m gonna be so heavy and you’re going to help me. Dote on me. Take responsibility.”

Donnie quickly superseded your pace and pulled you up and down faster and faster.

You shivered in his arms. “Ah! Parade me around! Knock me up again! Made for you!”

“Mine. Mine.” He started up a few times, but didn’t lose himself to the repeat.

“Angle!” You whined.

He adjusted you and the new placement sent you headlong toward orgasm. “Oh, fuck! Donnie!”

“One more!” He snarled.

“Between us!” You dug your nails into his sleeve. “Baby! Right now! It’s small, but it’s there! We did it!”

He pulled you flush to him and stopped.

You were close and breathing at a quick pace as you searched him.

Your stomach met against the flat of his plastron and he stared down where your chest seamed against his. “Baby…?”

“Yeah.” You slung your arms around his hand. “We’re having a baby.”

“You’re only going to get bigger.” His eyes rolled back and he bounced you so hard the chair jumped.

It creaked as he slammed it down into submission and you onto his cock.

You screamed your mate’s name as you came.

He clutched your lower back tight and spilled his seed deep inside you.

You both held onto each other for as long as you could until you both released withheld breaths.

Rung out and satisfied, you switched from grasping to cuddling and Donnie’s churrs returned soft and sweet.

“What’s hotter?”

He nosed you his attention.

“Breeding sex or pregnant sex?”

He thought about it openly.

“Really?” You giggled.

“Both have their advantage…”

“True…” You kissed his cheek.

“I only have one data point for the latter.”

You felt a tingle in your spine knowing full well how far your mate was willing to go for information.

“We’ll have to find out.” He poured heat into your ear and then kissed you to seal the promise.

💜 NEXT 💜

Through rain or sleet or me writing a sudden 84 page one-shot my betas @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83 are just incredible!

#softspotfic #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt donnie x reader #donatello hamato #donnie x reader #rise donnie #rise donnie x reader #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt Donnie #me #fanfiction #my fanfiction

54 notes · View notes

ftmdilfmode · 2 months ago

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I want to start a cult or pregnancy pact kind of thing with other trans men.

Basically, I want other trans men to be reckless and start "not not trying" to get pregnant like I am.

Here's the idea...

Don't stop your T, but lower your dose a little bit so you're more likely to ovulate.

If you're on the progesterone only pill or other birth control, stop it and insist to people around you that T is basically birth control.

Take vitamins with extra folic acid, even if they're not prenatal vitamins.

Drink lots of red raspberry leaf tea and pomegranate juice because they can increase ovulation.

If someone makes you use a condom for pregnancy prevention, poke a hole in the tip.

Track your ovulation and make the most of your fertile window.

Just generally get your boycunt full of cum as often as possible. It doesn't matter if you love them, it doesn't matter if they're attractive, their gender doesn't matter. If they have sperm, like vaginas, and see you as a man, you fuck them.

If you think you're pregnant, act like you already are until you can test, just in case. No smoking or drinking.

If you end up pregnant, pause your testosterone until delivery and figure out how long you keep it to yourself before telling everyone.

Let's just make an epidemic in 2025 of pregnant men across the world and see what happens. Let's make a seahorse dad cult.

#ftm breeding #ftm breeding kink #ftm pregnancy #ftm pregnancy kink #tmpreg #mpreg #ftm ttc #detransition dni #detrans dni #cis women dni

48 notes · View notes

dellalyra · 2 years ago

Note

Hello! I saw that your requests are open so if I may can I request headcanons for Nanami and Gojo when reader is pregnant? Like some random moments as well as how they act during the whole thing from telling them about the pregnancy! Also congratulations on thsu milestone!

Thank you and have a good day/night <3

AGH YAY I LOVE THIS thank u so much for sending this in!!!!

CW: I guess a lil nsfw, f!Reader, soft as hell, suggestive themes

✭ Pixie’s 1.5k Follower Celebration - send in headcanon requests! ✭

✵ NANAMI ✵

✵ you and kento had definitely been planning for a child, and actively trying. He was actually the one to suggest a baby at first, you’d been married for 2 years and he had always wanted to be a father.

✵ 100% the kind of man who would have you both taking fertility vitamins to help encourage a healthy pregnancy.

✵ safe to say - babymaking was the highlight for you both. The thought of you having his child drove this man insane (nanami breeding kink go brrr) he was literally insatiable.

✵ He was actually the one to sense you were pregnant, you had been feeling under the weather for a day or two, not thinking much of it since you’d been trying for only 2 months and it was November. But, then Kento brought you both home some delicious ramen from a local market and the smell had you SPRINTING to the bathroom. When he was done holding back your hair, he opened the bathroom cabinet and pulled out a test.

✵ When the two very strong lines appeared you jumped into your husbands arms as he spun you in a circle, whispering sweet nothings.

✵ During your pregnancy, Kento would not let you lift a finger. He was on you with your prenatal vitamins, smoothies, foot rubs, every type of Lamaze class you could think of

✵ god the other women in the Lamaze class were just fawning over your husband, arm around your swollen waist, attentive to every moment you make (and those muscles under his well fitted sweater helped)

✵ he made sure to read to your baby every night, as well as rubbing lotion into your bump to help the stretching skin.

✵ builds the crib and nursery furniture himself (from scratch), and helps you paint and prepare.

✵ you both decide on Yuuji as godfather

✵ just so prepared to be a dad man, literally came pre assembled as a father.

✵ Gojo ✵

✵ k SO one of two situations, yay surprise baby or you guys had like an ‘if it happens it happens’ situation going on, no pressure or planning

✵ I think Satoru had been scared to be a father at first, but then he realised that love isn’t a curse, and the love you two have is so powerful it can create a whole other person, not even his six eyes can do that.

✵ there’s no need for a pregnancy test , you come home one day and he freezes - you had been gone when he woke up that morning, a mission an hour or two away but short and easy. You got back around noon, and giggle at your husbands surprised face.

✵“baby, it’s … it’s not just you. i can see them.”

✵“okay mr. I can see dead people what are you on about?”

✵ he just lays a big hand over your still-flat belly, and you gasp, realising what he means. He can see the tiny amount of cursed energy coming from your womb. A combination of his and yours makes for a powerful residual. The little dot pulsed along with what he presumed was the baby’s heart.

✵“are you serious? please don’t joke ‘Toru”

✵ “shush, you’ll wake up our baby.”

✵ you both drop to your knees and he wraps his big long arms around you

✵ “we’re having a baby ‘Toru.”

✵ he warps you both straight into shokos office and by your teary smile and Satoru’s beaming face she just says congrats and pulls out the ultrasound machine.

✵ you’re 6 weeks along, “hey lil’mochi, this is your momma, and I’m papa, but she calls me dadd-”

✵ SPOILS YOU

✵ immediately you both go to the shop, baby clothes, toys, plushies, a whole new family car.

✵ literally ridiculous

✵ plans the biggest baby shower, he’s just so happy

✵ a little scared he won’t be a good enough dad but you shut that down straight away

✵ any and all cravings are catered to

✵ gets even more handsy and insatiable during your pregnancy, just seeing you swollen with HIS child makes him fucking FERAL

✵ PARENTING BOOKS

✵ at night, sits and chats with your bump, head laying on your lap facing the bump, your hands in his hair, usually stories of how he met you, embarrassing little megumi, how he annoys Uncle Nanamin, how awesome he is

✵ has planned an entire emergency plan for you and the baby, it’s eased his mind. He didn’t tell you, just put precautions in place.

✵ draws faces on your bump

✵ helps you bathe and shower and washes your hair because ‘Mrs. Gojo deserves whatever she wants.’

✵ fights with the higher ups and threatens them so much that they give you both a years parental leave, more if needed. Scary man <3

✵ has lists as long as him of name ideas, does not shut up about all the things he wants to do

✵ constantly posting and sharing photos of ‘pretty mama’

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #jjk #gojo fluff #anime #dad!gojo #gojo headcanons #gojo hcs #nanami headcanons #nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami hc #jjk headcanons #pixie’s 1.5k follower celebration #family formations drabbles

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demigodsanswer · 29 days ago

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Prompt: Thanksgiving and Percabeth pregnancy!

Set in the same future canon as this fic.

Conceiving Sophia had taken a year of careful, strategic trying, prenatal vitamins, ovulation tests, and a very serious conversation with an OB about potentially looking into fertility tests.

Conceiving their second baby had simply taken Annabeth forgetting to bring her birth control on vacation, and Percy forgetting to pull out once or twice.

They hadn't planned to get pregnant within a year of Sophie being born, but there they were again. And this time, Annabeth had had to suffer the slings and arrows of the first trimester during a New York August. Percy felt terrible for her.

But the temperature had dropped, she'd entered her second trimester, and Percy was pretty sure she'd nearly eaten the entire Thanksgiving turkey herself. At five months pregnant now, she had a sweet little bump and the same beautiful face Percy always wanted to kiss.

Their toddler was a different story. Turns out, a fifteen-month-old mini-Annabeth has a lot in common with drunk Annabeth: a lot to say, but with less-than-great communication skills, prone to running off without warning, and plenty of crying. At least drunk Annabeth was potty trained. Sophie might have started manipulating plumbing at three months and talking at eight months, but she didn't seem to be in any rush to the next milestone. Not that they'd be free of diaper bags any time soon anyway.

Sophie had spent most of dinner combining handfuls of potatoes with cranberry sauce and making a great mess. That her doting grandparents only cooed at, as Percy tried to wipe her down

But now Sophie was down on the couch between Grandpa Paul and Grandpa Fred, watching The Godfather II.

"Is this appropriate for her?" Fred had asked.

"We let Nico babysit a lot. She might find it comforting. All these old school Italians," Percy joked. Nico was taller than him now, and he looked like a young Al Pacino. Whatever. Percy had a beautiful wife and perfect baby.

He walked back into the kitchen to help his mom clean and found her in a battle of kindness with Annabeth.

"--Sweetie, we've got it. Go sit --"

"--Sally, really, I'm fine. Let me help --"

"--That's what my two kids are here for --"

"--They helped cook --"

"--So they can help clean."

His mom looked at him, pleading as if to ask: Can you talk some sense into her?

Percy smiled and shook his head. As if he'd ever been able to do anything of the sort.

"Come on," he said, wrapping his arms around her from behind and resting his hands on her belly. He felt their baby kick against his hands, and Annabeth made a small opmh noise. The baby had started kicking last month, and she always seemed extra active after Annabeth ate, or (Percy argued) when he was around.

"See, even she wants you to sit down and relax," Percy said. Another girl. He couldn't wait. Maybe it was sooner than they expected, but he wouldn't trade this little girl for anything.

"Is she kicking?" Sally asked. Annabeth nodded. "Can I?"

Percy moved his hands, and Annabeth guided Sally to where she could feel.

"i can't believe this was me only ten years ago," Sally said. "Now I have two more babies!"

"Grandbabies," Percy corrected.

"Oh, shush," Sally said. She still hadn't made peace with being a grandma. "I can't be a grandma. I have a middle schooler."

"Maybe by baby four or five, you'll be more comfortable," Annabeth joked.

"Five?!" Sally said. Percy and Annabeth just shrugged. They hadn't planned a final count. They'd just ... see where nature took them. "Well sweetie, if you're planning on doing this three more times, then you should really get your rest in now," Sally said, shooing them both to the living room.

They both came to a dead stop when they reached the living room. Both gradnpas and Sophie had fallen asleep, all with their heads tilted back, mouths open.

"Food coma," Percy whispered.

"I'll say," Annabeth said, before snapping a few pictures. 'Want to lay down in the guest room?" She asked.

"Sure," Percy said, giving her a gentle kiss. When the door closed behind them, he asked: "Should we get a head start on babies three and four?"

"Cheeky. But I feel like a stuffed turkey," she said, climbing under the covers.

"You're a turkey I'd love to -- actually I'm just going to apologize immediately for that," he said as she laughed, rolling onto her side away from him. "Just snuggles?" He asked as he wrapped an arm around her and resting a protective hand on her belly.

"Yep," she said. Their baby kicked in agreement.

#percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson #annabeth chase #percabeth

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hush-writes-preg · 1 year ago

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I’ve had this fantasy stuck in my head for months now. You’re my partner who’s a doctor and you’d been slipping fertility drugs in my food for months. And now I’m 2 months overdue with your triplets. You keep giving me medications to prevent me from going into labor and to grow your brood bigger and stronger. Of course I don’t realize I’m so far over due. Pregnancy brain has made it so I don’t know how long it’s been. You just reassure me that everything is fine and going along as planned whenever I ask any questions. You just give me my “vitamins” and pat my ever growing belly.

Now this is a delicious fantasy. Imagine being kept pampered and well-loved but without access to any tools you might use to track your pregnancy. I'd take care of all of your prenatal care, assuring you that everything is entirely normal, and happily watch you grow larger by the day.

I wonder how long you can go before your body just can't hold them anymore? Your belly so swollen that you can barely get around by yourself, constantly shifting from the movement within. By the time that moment arrives, our children will be so large that there'd be no way for you to deliver naturally.

#hush answers #manipulation #overdue pregnancy #fertility drugs #pregnant with multiples #birth denial

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peachyyfatty · 1 year ago

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Imagining being fattened up and bred, then fattened up with both food AND babies!!

I would deny I was pregnant at first. I’d blame the bloating on the absurd amounts of food you’ve been making for me, and the weight gain shakes i had been drinking.

Then, id weigh in 10lbs heavier about a week later. Id tell you to cut back on the butter, and id half my shake intake. My belly was getting more bloated by the day, and my pants were getting a bit tight in the underbelly.

30lbs later I’d begin to question you, why was I getting so big?? But you’d tell me I was just eating more than I thought I was, and that a little weight gain was normal. I guess 40lbs really isn’t that much, right?

After I started to outgrow my last pairs of fat underwear, I went to the doctor. She told me I was 5 months pregnant, and said I was 30lbs overweight, even while pregnant. She put me on a diet and sent my blubbery pregnant ass out the door.

I told you what she told me, and you just smirked. You said that meant I should just embrace it. If I’m going to balloon, I might as well keep eating and gaining.

So I did! I started taking fertility supplements, and prenatal vitamins. And of course my weight gain shakes doubled, eating for two and all. Then you started making bigger portions, all for me.

By 8 months I was looking like I put on about 100lbs in the course of my pregnancy, but I would insist it wasn’t true. I wasn’t that big! Sure my belly barely let me get out of bed, and sure my waddle shook the rooms a bit, but that doesn’t mean I’m that much heavier, right?

When I gave birth, it was the strangest thing. I just kept gaining afterwards, and it looked like I never gave birth at all!

But that’s just baby weight for you, right?

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guttergirlcore · 1 year ago

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Baby fever thoughts ♡

Okay I typically hate the pregnancy trope, but I literally can't stop thinking about baby fever JJ. Send help.

♡ Dark!JJ secretly tampering with your birth control

♡ JJ obsessing over how he can increase your fertility

♡ JJ tracking your cycles and ovulation patterns

♡ When you are ovulating, you can barely get a break from JJ. He's bending you over and filling you every chance he gets

♡ JJ flat out refusing to cum anywhere besides inside you

♡ JJ keeping his cock inside you afterwards to keep everything plugged up

♡ JJ slyly slipping you prenatal vitamins in your beverages on the off-chance you're already pregnant

♡ JJ always having pregnancy tests on hand, demanding you take one every time you feel a bit nauseous or the second your period is late

♡ JJ being visibly angry/upset/disappointed when the test comes back negative and using it as another opportunity to fill you

♡ When one test finally comes out positive, he literally cries

♡ JJ refusing to let you move a muscle throughout your pregnancy

♡ JJ making sure to be with you for every appointment and parenting prep class. He's literally so overjoyed

♡ Any extra bit of money he has goes to buying baby things. He gets so excited to show you

♡ Breeding kink!JJ that gets extra turned on at the fact that you're carrying his baby and loves to fuck you while pregnant

♡ JJ always having his ringed-hands on your belly, telling you how gorgeous you are growing his baby

♡ JJ absolutely sobs when your child is born. I'm talking snot and tears. Inconsolable

♡ Breeding kink!JJ who is literally counting down the days until he can get you pregnant again

#obx #outer banks #dark!jj maybank #jj maybank #jj obx #dark!jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x reader #jj x reader #jj outer banks #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fic #jj maybank fanfiction

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weezly14 · 1 year ago

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so i used to use this more as a blog where i talked about my life and my feelings and there's been both a lot and nothing happening in my life lately but i sure do have feelings! so i'm gonna write it down and send vibes into the universe because why not. what else do i have to do today?

i've been a little MIA in terms of working on my fics. i've barely written. first it was a rough fucking winter; then summer kicked my ass just as bad. i hate summer.

"but why has it been rough?"

well, because i'm not fucking pregnant yet.

we've been trying for a baby (i hate this phrase) for ten months? ish? and nothing has happened. in school they made it sound like you skip protection once and you'll get knocked up; my mom got accidentally pregnant twice. and here i am, charting dates and peeing on ovulation predictor sticks and tracking symptoms and the whole nine yards, timing sex and taking fucking prenatals and vitamins and not eating sushi or steak during the two week wait and not drinking at all, and all i've gotten to show for it is my fucking period, every month like clockwork.

the studies say, it can take up to a year. yes, most couples get pregnant within six months, but sometimes it takes longer. sure, fine, whatever.

so it's been hard enough trying to get pregnant and then failing (because it does feel like failing, every time), but then two things happened in quick succession:

my best friend got pregnant, sort of accidentally;

i got sent for bloodwork and the results caused my doctor to refer me straight to a fertility clinic.

when i saw the results i cried, but i thought i was just spiraling and being over dramatic. sure, my AMH is really low, but it's technically still in range, and that's not everything, right? my other tests were mostly fine, not totally out of the normal range. then i called my doctor's office, only to be told "we're referring you to a clinic, your ob/gyn doesn't think you'll get pregnant without treatment."

it's a hell of a thing to be told while standing in the pasta aisle of a grocery store.

in the midst of being referred to the clinic, i of course googled. read articles and papers. cried to my husband, my mom, my friends. of course the clinic was booking weeks out; in three weeks i'll go for my first appointment. my mom said, well maybe now you'll get pregnant. it happens, you know - people struggle and then as soon as they get booked to see a specialist, or start IVF, they get pregnant.

my period started over the weekend. it was not a good time.

the thing about trying for a baby is that every month is the same fucking rollercoaster, only you can't get off, and despite knowing exactly how it'll go, it's still somehow traumatic every time. every cycle there's the devastation when your period starts, followed by the hopeful/planning mode of "let me now track ovulation, let's chart out when we need to have sex." then there's the actual sex - trying to still have fun with it as opposed to the clinical "literally all we need is for you to finish," though sometimes it is just the quickie before work or after dinner because it's Fertile Week and we need to optimize our chances so it doesn't matter if it's not very romantic, we can have romantic sex later. after that it's the waiting game, the two weeks of overanalyzing every ache, every twinge, of looking up expected due dates and thinking about how to announce to family and friends, of hoping and thinking that maybe you are actually pregnant - all followed by the two, three days leading up to your period where every trip to the bathroom has the potential to devastate. where every pms symptom is enough to set off a fresh round of tears until your period actually starts. i've stopped taking pregnancy tests early. the stark white negatives (or rude NO - on the digital tests) was too much for me to handle in my already hormonal, pms state.

it hasn't been a year, which makes me feel like i shouldn't be so upset already. on the other hand, my egg reserve is apparently incredibly low - that is, i'm rapidly running out of eggs, and who knows if the ones i've got are even any good. in three weeks we'll see a fertility specialist, and based on my extensive research and trolling on reddit and listening to podcasts, i'm fairly confident they're going to tell us it's IVF or bust.

because i'm running out of eggs, for reasons that might not exist, or might just be "sometimes things just suck for certain people." some people get a diagnosis of "unexplained infertility," which basically means the doctors have run every test and there's no reason you can't get pregnant. we aren't in that camp, we're likely in the "diminished ovarian reserve" camp. for reasons that are unexplained.

meanwhile, my best friend is pregnant, and i can't talk to her without crying.

we moved into a bigger house a year ago in preparation for kids. we got our finances in order, we made sure our marriage was solid, we planned - and now? we've always wanted two, maybe three. at this point i think we'll be lucky to get one. maybe i'm being pessimistic. i'm trying to be confident but also realistic. IVF doesn't work for everyone. even my clinic, which has the best numbers in the state, has a 63% success rate. sounds great, and it is - but that's 37% of couples who don't go home with a baby. nationally, the outcomes are something like 50ish% of IVF cycles will result in a live birth (they measure by both pregnancy and live birth, because even if you've managed to get pregnant, there's no guarantee you'll stay pregnant.)

today is a good day, by the way. today i can talk to my mom, i can call up our insurance, i can write this and be factual and calm and not crying. today i feel like we have a good chance, like we will end up with a take home baby. today i'm cleaning my house and looking up meal plans to increase my fertility. exercise regimens to help me get in shape to increase my fertility. tomorrow might be a bad day. bad days are when i can barely get off the couch, where i cry at the thought or mention of my fertility. where a tiktok of a dad and baby sends me spiraling. when it all feels fucking useless and unfair.

today is a good day. i don't know what tomorrow's going to be yet.

i've been isolating all summer, which isn't hard to do when most of my friends aren't local. but i find i don't want to be around anyone, really. i don't want to talk to people. i don't want to be asked how i'm doing, i don't want to be asked what's new or what i've been up to.

"i've been cleaning my house and trying to get pregnant and failing. last week i made a new recipe, and today i cried."

it's not an exciting life i'm leading these days. and anyway, no one wants to hear about fertility struggles.

it's not that i'm too stressed. i don't need to go on vacation, or get drunk and have sex, or relax and then i'll get pregnant. sure, i could use a vacation, but that's not the magic ticket. the problem isn't lack of sex. i have depression; the stress is always there, but that's why i see my therapist and my psychiatrist. that's why i take my meds and do my self-soothing shit.

i'm not pregnant because i'm just not. and hopefully the specialist will have a plan and hopefully that plan has a more than 30% chance of succeeding, and hopefully we get to bring a baby home - but today? today i'm not pregnant, and it's not a guarantee that i ever will be.

so even though today is a good day, i'm still really fucking sad.

but, you know. i'm trying to have hope.

that, too, is a cycle.

#random life post #weezly talks fertility shit #feel free to ignore this #or accept it as an excuse for why i haven't been writing lately

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sequinsmile-x · 2 years ago

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Hey! Related to another story that you wrote, would you ever consider writing a one shot where Emily miscarries but she does know that she's pregnant? Aaron comforts her, tells her it's not her fault when she apologizes, etc. Thanks!

Hi friend <3

Of course!

This is, obviously, very sad.

-x-

Lost at Sea

They’d laughed through tears of joy in their bathroom as they looked at a positive pregnancy test, the thought that it was too good to be true because it had happened so quickly lingering in the air.

Turns out, it had been too good to be true.

-x-

Words: 3.6k

Warnings: Miscarriage/Pregnancy Loss

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

“We could cancel.”

Emily tightens her grip on her lipstick, her eyes flashing to her husband in their bathroom mirror before she looks back at herself, “I’m fine, Aaron.”

He watches her carefully from where he’s standing in the doorway to their ensuite, “Em,” he sighs, taking a moment to choose his words carefully. He looks her up and down, sees the tension in her shoulders, and her paler than usual skin. The bags under her eyes from hardly sleeping over the last few days, “You can struggle with your mother at the best of times-”

“I said I’m fine,” she snaps, cutting over him, “besides, it’s not like it’s the first time…”

She drifts off, stopping herself from making the comparison that had been lingering in the back of her mind for two days now. The pain was familiar, a memory triggered from so long ago that it made her chest ache as much as her abdomen. It was strange, she thought, that she felt so empty and yet completely unable to draw breath.

They’d been trying for a baby.

It was a conversation they’d had early on in their relationship, both aware that time wasn’t necessarily on their side if they did want to add to their family. Emily had spoken to her doctor, lingering memories of being told what Ian had done to her shouldn’t affect her fertility making her anxious. After several tests that told her she was fine, that there was nothing to indicate there would be a problem, the spark of hope in her chest had caught fire, spreading through her body in a way she wouldn’t have wanted to control even if she could.

She and Aaron had agreed that she’d stop taking her birth control a month before their wedding, and, much to their amusement and what Emily joked would be Penelope’s eventual delight, she had fallen pregnant on their honeymoon. They’d laughed through tears of joy in their bathroom as they looked at a positive pregnancy test, the thought that it was too good to be true because it had happened so quickly lingering in the air.

Turns out, it had been too good to be true.

What should have been their first look at their baby turned into something else entirely, words Emily had never heard before thrown around by her doctor as if they meant something other than the fact she’d miscarried. Her hearing fading in and out as Aaron listened intently, his hand tight around hers as the options for the next steps she’d heard once before were offered to her.

She remembered being 15 and terrified. The prescription for painkillers that Matthew had gone to fill for her buried in the bottom drawer of her nightstand so no one would find them. It was the complete opposite of the orange bottle sitting on the bathroom counter she shared with her husband, taking the place of the prenatal vitamins he’d bought her that had been there just days ago. She briefly wonders where they’ve gone. If Aaron had thrown them away or simply hidden them, the vague promise from the doctor ringing in her ears that they could ‘try again’ seeming woefully misplaced as she broke Emily’s heart with three words.

There’s no heartbeat.

She sighs and swallows thickly. Whilst the circumstances couldn’t be more different, this pregnancy desperately wanted in comparison to the one she had spent days wishing away when she was still a child herself, it certainly wasn’t the first time she’d had to hide being in this kind of pain from her mother.

“It’s just easier to go,” she says instead, smiling tightly as their eyes meet in the mirror, “at least I won’t have to come up with an excuse not to drink wine now.”

Aaron sighs, her half-hearted attempt at humour missing its mark as his heart seizes in his chest. It felt like a lifetime, not a few days, since they’d been talking about how she’d try and cover up the fact she wasn’t drinking in front of Elizabeth and her friends. Both of them half-joking as suggestions about him drinking all her drinks as well as his were thrown around, a wide smile on Emily’s face as she laughed about how it would be the first time her mother would have seen him drunk.

“Em…”

“Sorry,” she says, turning to look at him. She shakes her head at herself, unsure why she said it at all, “That was…I’m sorry.”

Her voice cracks a little and she looks up at the ceiling, desperately trying not to cry and ruin the makeup she’d carefully applied. She was sure if she started crying she’d never stop, that the sadness might just kill her.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart,” he says, hoping that she picks up on the double meaning behind his words. She’d barely spoken to him since he drove her home from the hospital. Her grief palpable but silent, sucking all of the air out of every room they were in. He steps towards her, his hand reaching out to touch her hip, and she sidesteps so he misses her. He tries to cover his hurt as their eyes meet, and if the way her smile seems impossibly tighter is anything to go by, he hasn’t succeeded.

“We should get going,” she says quietly, moving past him without saying anything else, leaving him alone in the bathroom where they’d both celebrated over a stick with two bright pink lines on it just weeks before.

___

Aaron never failed to be amazed at how well Emily could cover how she felt.

For those who didn’t know her, or those like her mother who he believed chose not to look, it would seem like any other night. She was smiling. Laughing at the right intervals. Telling appropriate stories from work, making their jobs sound less gruesome than they were.

He could see through it.

He could see how her eyes were glazed over. How her smile seemed forced. How tight her grip was on her wine glass. How her hand would periodically rest on her stomach, a sure sign she was in pain, before she snatched it away again. As if she couldn’t bare to touch it.

They make it until the plates after the main course are cleared before one of Elizabeth’s friends, a woman who insisted they call her Marie instead of her formal title, brings up the subject he had hoped they’d avoid all evening.

“Elizabeth said that the wedding was small but beautiful,” Marie says, smiling at the two of them. Emily covers a sigh at the not-so-subtle dig, but smiles anyway, all too aware of the game she had to play here.

“Our friend hosted it in his backyard,” she says, her smile becoming real at the memory of their wedding. She places her hand on Aaron’s knee and squeezes, her eyes bright for a moment as their eyes meet, “It was an amazing day.”

“And you honeymooned in…Maine?” Marie asks, her eyebrow rising and Aaron places his hand over Emily’s on his leg, linking their fingers together briefly.

“Yes, for three days” Emily replies, not acknowledging the slight judgement in the other woman’s tone, “Work is busy, and we don’t like to be away from Jack for too long if we don’t need to be.”

“Ah, yes your stepson, Elizabeth says he’s quite the little charmer,” Marie says, the rest of the table now paying attention to their conversation, “So, are you planning on having any children of your own?”

Emily is sure she physically recoils from the question, her body tensing immediately as time slows down around her. She slips her hand out from under Aaron’s, and starts to twist her wedding rings around her finger. The pain in her stomach somehow gets worse, cramps that she hates more with each passing second making her sure she won’t be able to have dessert.

“Not yet,” Aaron answers for her, his voice tight in a way only she can hear, and she knows she needs to get out of this room, to get some air, before the weight of her grief as well as his crushes her.

The sound of her chair scraping across the wooden floor makes her wince and draws the attention of everyone to her, “Excuse me,” she says, plastering on a fake smile that she knows shakes, “I just need the bathroom.”

Aaron stops her, his hand around her wrist as she tries to step past him. He looks at her earnestly, all the love and understanding she can’t bear right now flowing off of him in a way that makes her stomach twist even more.

“Em-”

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” she says to him, silently pleading that he lets her go, and he relents, nodding almost indiscernibly before he lets go of her, his fingers trailing over her skin as he does so.

She’s out of the dining room and into the hallway quicker than she thought possible, walking several feet away so she can no longer hear the conversation she’d been surrounded by all evening. She leans against a wall, her forehead against the cool plaster in an attempt to regulate herself, not wanting her mother’s house, the physical representation of everything she hated about herself in bricks and mortar, to be the place she finally breaks.

She’s barely alone for a minute before the door opens, and for a brief second, she feels a flash of anger at her husband for not leaving her to it until she hears the familiar footfall of her mother.

“Really, Emily, did you have to cause a scene?”

She sighs and scrunches her eyes closed tightly, “It was hardly a scene Mother,” she replies, opening her eyes and pulling herself away from the wall, “I said excuse me.”

“You and I both know…”

Elizabeth trails off as Emily finally turns to look at her, whatever chastisement that had been on the tip of her tongue fading away as she looks her daughter up and down.

As much as Emily liked to pretend it wasn’t the case, her mother could often see right through her. The political training she’d given Emily since she was old enough to listen to the very foundation of her future as a spy and an FBI profiler. On some level, she knew a lot of the time her mother chose not to see how her words had an impact on her daughter, both of them all too aware that their relationship was stitched together with wilful ignorance on both sides. A thread that continued to fray with each passing disagreement, something they both knew was liable to one day give way.

“Emily, what’s wrong?” Elizabeth asks, stopping just a few paces short of her, her eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“Nothing,” Emily says, too quickly even to her own ears. Her stomach hurts so much if she wasn’t standing in front of her mother that she thinks she’d fall over, her mind drifting to the painkillers she’d told Aaron she’d taken before she left. She makes a mental note to go to the bathroom before they leave, the sanitary pads that were so big it would be funny in any other situation folded in half and in her purse. “I’m fine.”

“That is obviously not true,” Elizabeth says, crossing her arms and looking her up and down. “What’s going on?”

Emily stares at her mother, their dark eyes meeting, and she knows she won’t let it go. That she’ll make them stand her until she tells her. Suddenly she’s a teenager again, figuring out if she should tell the truth or lie, and she finds that she can’t bring herself to do the latter.

Not about this.

“I…I was pregnant,” she says, looking down at the floor, not sure she wants to see Elizabeth’s face.

“You were pregnant?”

Emily looks up, unable to place her mother’s tone and finds she can’t place her expression either. She nods, her lips set in a firm line as her head feels like it’s underwater, the blood rushing through her head loudly as she forces back the tears she won’t shed here.

“We went to the doctor two days ago for the first scan. The baby was… but my body hadn’t noticed. I had a miscarriage,” she laughs humourlessly, her chin trembling, “I’m still having one actually.”

They fall into silence, and she watches her mother’s face intently, unsure of where this was going to go.

“Emily…you didn’t have to come tonight. You could have cancelled.” The maternal edge to her voice, her kind words, take a moment to register. So displaced from their usual interactions Emily feels like she’s imagined it for a second.

“I didn’t want to tell you,” she replies, shrugging as she twists her wedding rings around her finger, “I don’t even know why I did…we don’t have the kind of relationship where I tell you these things. Plus, we both know if I’d cancelled without telling you why you would have had something to say about it.”

Elizabeth nods and clears her throat as if forcing down a response she knows wouldn’t be helpful, “And you’re going to be ok?”

A sound escapes Emily that is halfway between a dry sob and a chuckle but she nods, “Yeah, the doctor said we could try again once we’re ready,” she shakes her head, “Like that makes this any easier to deal with.”

“In my day they used to say it ‘was just one of those things,’” Elizabeth says, sighing, “As if that made it better.”

Emily frowns, swallowing thickly, “You…you mean?”

The unfinished question lingers in the air between them and Elizabeth eventually nods, “After I had you,” she answers, clearing her throat.

There’s a beat of silence again, almost as loud as the laughter that flows from the dining room, “Why did you never say anything?”

“Because it’s something we were encouraged not to speak about back then. It’s like it never happened,” Elizabeth replies, offering Emily a half smile, “Plus, as you said yourself. We don’t have that kind of relationship.”

All Emily can do is nod in response as she comes to terms with the fact this was a grim thing she had in common with her mother. Something else that she thinks could somehow push them further apart, even though it should do the opposite.

“Is Aaron ok?” Elizabeth asks, and it snaps Emily out of her reverie.

“He’s trying,” she replies, thinking of her husband, how private he is, and how much he was doing his very best to be there for her.

“That’s all either of you can do,” Elizabeth replies, “And be there for each other.”

Emily nods, unsure how this unexpected conversation can both make her feel better and worse at the same time, her fried emotions all over the place. She hears footsteps behind her mother and looks to see Aaron in the hallway too, his hands on his hips as he looks them over, ready to intervene if Elizabeth has upset her in some way.

“Is everything ok?” He asks, looking back and forth between them.

“Emily was just telling me she doesn’t feel too well,” Elizabeth says, going back into ambassador mode, her maternal side slipping away as if it had never shown its face, “You should probably get her home.”

Aaron stares at her for a second before he looks at his wife, who nods, a silent confirmation that she was ready to go.

“Ok,” he replies, walking past his mother-in-law to put his arm around Emily, not missing how she leans into his side, “Let’s go, sweetheart.”

They exchange their goodbyes with Elizabeth and are heading towards the front door when she calls after them.

“Aaron?” She says, and he stops and looks back over his shoulder, his eyes meeting hers as she stands exactly where he’d found them together. “Look after her, ok?”

For the first time in a long time, he feels the pull of the one thing they’d always had in common - their love for Emily. Elizabeth had never been able to show it in the way Emily wanted, or deserved, but he knows that she is grateful that her daughter now had someone who could.

He nods, smiling tightly at her before he replies, already turning back to take his wife home.

“I always do.”

___

The journey home passes her by in a blur. Streets she knew like the back of her hand were unfamiliar, as if nothing made sense anymore. She feels nauseous. Something she knows is down to the medication she’s taken over the last few days as well as the pain that doesn’t seem to go anywhere. An ache so deep she wonders if it will ever fade.

They are quiet until Aaron parks the car, the sound of the engine switching off throwing them into complete silence. He waits a moment, his eyes fixed on her face in the low lighting.

“Sweetheart?”

She looks at him for a moment before she nods, her entire body feeling like it was trembling. For a reason she would never be able to explain, she finally realises that this evening was the first time they’d left the house since they’d come back from the hospital. It’s all a little too familiar. The sight of her home. The smell of her husband’s cologne.

His endless love for her.

She can’t cover her mouth in time to capture the sob that escapes, loud and painful enough she's sure it cracks every rib on the way out. Everything she’s locked away since she last sat here, staring at the house they bought with having more children in mind, breaks free all at once, the air in the car thick with it.

“Oh, Em,” Aaron says, his heart breaking as she finally falls apart next to him. He’s out of the car faster than he ever has been before and opens the passenger door within seconds.

She barely registers as he unbuckles her seatbelt, pulling her out of the car into his waiting arms. She practically falls into him, unable to support her own weight as the grief overwhelms her.

“I’ve got you, Em,” he murmurs, pressing fierce kisses to the top of her head, tears falling from his eyes into her hair, “I’ve got you.”

He gets her over to the steps leading up to the porch, and he guides her to sit down, holding her against him as she cries.

It feels like she can’t stop. Like every single emotion she’d had since she found out she was pregnant was coming out all at once. All the joy and fear turned to ash. Love and grief mixing together, neither possible without the other. She presses her face into Aaron’s neck and half-listens as he whispers words of comfort into the top of her head

He doesn’t know how long they sit there, time passing them by as they grieve what could have been, but her sobs slow down, and her breathing gets more even.

“I’m sorry,” she grasps out, her throat raw. It’s so quiet he almost doesn’t hear her.

“For what, sweetheart?”

“For breaking down on our front porch. For freezing you out for the last couple of days…for the miscarriage.”

He pulls back to look at her, his eyebrows furrowed together, “Emily-”

“I didn’t know,” she says, shaking her head as tears still stream down her face, “Our baby…I had a miscarriage and I didn’t notice,” she shakes her head at herself and laughs humourlessly, finally putting everything she had struggled with into words, “What kind of mother would that make me?”

“You’re a fantastic mom, Em,” he says, sounding so sure her eyes snap to his, a furious expression on his face as if he’d yell at someone who said something like that to her. Even if it was her. “Jack is lucky to have you. And so would any…” he clears his throat, tears falling from his lashline, “So would anyone.”

She reaches up to wipe tears from his cheek before she cups it. He turns his head to kiss her palm, “I’m-”

“Please don’t apologise to me, sweetheart,” he says gently, “For any of it. You did nothing wrong. “I’m sorry you’re going through this.”

She smiles shakily at him as she wipes a tear away from his skin with her thumb, “How about we agree to not apologise for things neither of us can control?”

“Sounds good to me,” he says. He leans in to stamp a kiss against her lips, before kissing her cheek and then her forehead. “Do you want to go inside?” He asks, pulling back and pushing some hair behind her ear, and she shakes her head, grateful for the peace they’d somehow found on their porch steps, and not ready for it to end.

“Not yet,” she replies, and he nods, shifting just far away enough from her so he can shrug off his jacket. He puts it around her shoulders to keep her warm and pulls her back into his side, his hand running up and down her arm.

She leans her head against his shoulder, her hand tight around his, “It would have been great, wouldn’t it?”

He wants to say that it still could be. That he has every faith that this will happen for them. That they’ll have a kid that will be half him and half her and that they will be the most stubborn person to ever walk the planet.

But he knows that isn’t what she needs, or wants, to hear right now. He kisses the top of her head and breathes her in.

“Yeah,” he replies, his voice cracking, “It would have been.”

-x-

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