Destiny Interrupted

Supernatural. John/Mary. NC-17. 1k words. Pre-series. Pregnant sex.

The baby’s always so peaceful afterwards, she’s told him, and that’s something with how much the kid likes to kick.

A Glow and a Hush

The bed rocks gently in time with their bodies. Mary’s solid and warm in his arms, her back curved against his chest and her feet tucked up near his knees.

The baby’s always so peaceful afterwards, she’s told him, and that’s something with how much the kid likes to kick. The baby’s almost due, Dena for a girl, Dean for a boy, and it’s hard to think about that and about how her warm body clenches around him at the same time. Mary hasn’t lost her sex drive yet though, and she’s only grown more lush and beautiful with each successive week. In the tangle of post-coital sheets she glows like they say a mother should, and John looks forward to seeing that as much as he’d loved watching her before they got pregnant, when she’d sprawl panting and grinning after a rough go.

“Going to come?” he asks. He levers himself up enough to brush aside a messy lock of hair from her forehead and tease a kiss along the soft shell of her ear.

“Not if you stop,” Mary says, cheeks pinked. Now it’s easier for her when they spoon, but even a few short weeks ago, she preferred being on top of him, riding him at her own pace, her breasts and hair swaying.

“If I don’t stop for a bit, I’ll come,” John admits. The swell of Mary’s breast is heavy as he slides his hand to cup the fullness of it, and when a thin trickle of watery milk leaks from the tip, he rubs it into her skin. She twitches at that, hips jerking back to seat him deeper inside her.

He does it again, and she moans and twists, offers her mouth up for a kiss which he manages just barely. “Any day now,” he says, and feels her smile. She’s anxious too, he knows, but he’s never met a woman stronger than her.

“Give me your hand,” she tells him, and he slides his fingers over hers, tangles them together into a fierce knot. He holds his breath when she drags their hands down, brushing the roundness of her belly and the curve of her hip. “Use your fingers if you don’t want to move much.”

John knows an order when he hears one and slides his hand between the press of her thighs, wriggles his fingers between the wet folds of her cunt to rub them slick and find her clit. Mary sucks in a shallow breath, her hands fisting in the sheets. John feels her toes curl, the soles of her feet skidding down his shins, and the way it makes her shift against and around him sends a jolt of pleasure straight to his spine.

“You’re so gorgeous,” he says. She laughs a little between a moan, not wanting to accept the compliment, but it’s true so he tells her again, murmurs it against the bare skin of her shoulder as he works his hips into the same rhythm as his fingers.

“John, I-” Mary jerks, her mouth falling open and a small sound forced out of her by the next thrust that gets John bottoming out, their bodies sealed together for a fraction of a moment.

“Almost there?” John can feel that she’s close with the way she’s gone tense, but he asks anyway, and she really is so goddamn gorgeous with her lips parted and the flush of sex tinting her cheeks pink. It’s tough not to just wrap his arms around her, crush her in a hug with her breasts plump and leaking under his arms. Tougher not to bite at her shoulder, fuck into her harder than he is, trap her arms and make her moan and squirm on his cock.

“No, John, I think I….”

“Baby?” he asks, going still, but his concern can’t stop the groan that had been building up his throat. For a heartstop moment Mary feels fragile.

“I think I, you know, peed a little,” she says.

John wants to laugh, but holds it back, kisses the nearest patch of Mary’s skin and slides his fingers down to feel where she’s so very wet that he wouldn’t be able to tell if she had. “Don’t worry about it,” he says. The baby pushes on her bladder so much that as long as he doesn’t have to do a full load of sheets every few hours, he doesn’t much care. “Really want to stop to take a bathroom break?”

“Not really.”

“That’s my girl.” He finds his rhythm again, and the interruption hadn’t been enough to kick Mary off her stride and leave her frustrated. She shudders as John strokes her to orgasm, cries out when it peaks, the sheets in a crumple next to her as she clutches to them and her cunt pulses around his cock.

John finishes a little harder than he means, hand slid away from the trap of her thighs to settle on her hip and squeeze fitfully as the slam of orgasm hits him. Breathless, he drops his head to the pillow before pulling out and getting ready to help her up and to the bathroom. With the sheets already a mess, he wipes off his thighs, and Mary has a tendency to get really wet, but this is definitely more than that. He’s about to tease her, trail his fingertips up the wetness on her legs and maybe curve his fingers inside her and feel the hot mess of his come still trapped in her, but she shifts and it’s not just a spill of his come spreading onto the sheets.

“Oh God,” she says, and it’s embarrassment in her voice and not panic.

Right now, John has the corner on panic. It’s about a one in ten chance, he knows, since he’s read all the same books with her, and gone to the classes with the breathing and the other first-time couples. “Your water,” he says, and as she sits up the wet spot spreads just a bit more.

“Oh God,” she repeats, and she’s as nervous as he is, but she’s laughing too, her hands curling over her stomach. This would be, without a doubt, one of those things that wasn’t going in the baby book.

*

End