Imagine your water breaking while arguing with Chris.
A/N: Part 4, yo. Hehe, even the cutest of couples fight. Read the previous parts of this chapter here (‘Memory Lane - Part 1/Part 2/Part 3’), and the first two chapters of the whole series here ('Drunk Minds, Sober Hearts and Baby Fever - Masterlist’) Enjoooooy. X
You strolled to the kitchen with Dodger trailing behind you, tail wagging excitedly for his breakfast. You looked down at him and smiled, but that smile faltered when you entered the kitchen. You walked in and immediately sighed; Chris’ little get together with his friends last night left the kitchen and the living room- where Chris had spent his night- a complete mess.
You should have been used to it by now, it was always the same deal when the game was on; Chris and his buddies will drink a little too much, eat a bunch of crap, and yell at the TV until their wives/girlfriends called them home, and in Chris’ case- until he passed out on the couch. Usually you’d help with the clean up, make some coffee and breakfast to help him with his hangover, but today you weren’t having any of it.
In your defense, you were nine months pregnant and due any day now; your feet were swollen, your back was aching, and you were just- tired of being pregnant. The last thing you needed was a messy house to deal with, especially when it wasn’t your mess to clean.
“Get up,” you tossed a roll of garbage bags at Chris and he groaned, rolling from his stomach onto his back. “I don’t care how hungover you are, you’re going to get up and clean your mess up.” He opened his eyes and quickly winced at the sunlight peeking through the curtains, groaning louder than before. “I mean it, get up.” You struggled but you managed to nudge him with your foot.
“What time is it?” He mumbled, rubbing his eyes with his hands.
“Time to get up and clean,” you bit with narrowed eyes. “How can four guys can make such a huge mess?” You looked around and shook your head, annoyed and disgusted. “I mean- is it really that hard to put your beer bottles and burger wrappers in the bin as soon as you’re done with them?” You continued to lecture your husband, who had sighed and sat up. “It’s not even that far away, Chris. You guys do this almost every weekend and I’m sick of it, either tighten up or go to a bar and watch the game.”
“Sweetheart-” Chris tried to reason with you but you didn’t give him much of a chance.
“Don’t call me sweetheart until you clean up your mess,” you stormed out of the living room, leaving him and Dodger behind. “Now, Chris!” You called as you made your way up the stairs so you didn’t have to look at the chaos that was your house.
“If she kills me, buddy,” Chris whispered softly to Dodger. “Just know that I love you.” He reached out and tried to pet Dodger but got barked at instead; the pup was on your side, as he’d been since the day he met you. “Seriously?” He frowned at Dodger who padded out of the living room to join you upstairs. “You know you’re my dog, right?” He called after Dodger then sighed and grabbed the roll of garbage bags you’d thrown at him earlier.
• • • • • • • •
Chris made sure he made downstairs spotless before he went upstairs to you and Dodger; the two of you sat on the bed while you work on your latest script. You didn’t have to look up to see Chris standing in the doorway, trying to assess your mood before he approached. You spoke without taking your eye off your laptop, “is my kitchen a kitchen again?”
“Is my wife my wife again?” He retorted, trying to be cute but coming off more smart-assy than cute. You looked up and shot him a dirty look; he pressed his lips together and winced. “Sorry,” he mumbled sheepishly, scratching the back of his head.
“I don’t know if you realize this, Chris, but I am pregnant.” You began, closing the lid of your laptop. “It is an incredibly exhausting thing to be, not that you’d know.” You bit and he sighed. “The worst part is- I’m not doing this for myself.” You blurted out before you could stop yourself; it wasn’t true but you were just incredibly wound up. “You’re the reason I’m having a child, the least you can do is be a little more considerate.”
“Hold up,” he frowned as he pushed himself off the doorframe. “Did you seriously just say that?” You did, and you didn’t mean it, but you were too stubborn to take it back. “I’m not the one who made the call, Y/N. I told you I wanted a child but not if you weren’t ready for it. I was fine waiting until you were, and you told me you were and now you’re suddenly 'not doing this for yourself’? Are you kidding me?”
“Ugh,” you groaned as you rose to your feet, “shut up, Chris. Aren’t you just the perfect gentleman? I’ll wait until you’re ready, Y/N,” you mocked him. “You and my mom manipulated me into being ready, I was still thinking but you kept pushing and pushing until I couldn’t take it anymore. Why else would a person like me agree to have a child?!”
“A person like you?” He chuckled and scoffed at the same time. “What is that even suppose to mean? You don’t even hate children, Y/N. I know you, a lot better than you know yourself, and being pregnant has made you happier than I’ve ever seen you before. You want this, you were just too afraid of change as per usual.”
“You know me better than I know myself?” You quizzed rhetorically. “If that is so, you wouldn’t have left the house the way you left it.” You bit and he groaned. “Oh stop groaning, you jerk. This fight is your fault, if you’d just cleaned up last night then we wouldn’t even be having this fight.”
“What’s the difference, Y/N?” He narrowed his eyes at you. “It’s not like I was going to just disappear the next morning. And I’ve already clean it all up, so why are you still yelling at me? I get it, okay? I was inconsiderate. You’re pregnant and tired and you shouldn’t have to deal with all of it. I’m sorry, I won’t leave the house like that anymore. Happy now?”
“Happy now?” You scoffed. “You call that an apology? Oh my God, you’ll be the-” You were cut off when you felt and heard a soft pop, then a gush of warm fluid rushing down your legs. “Oh no,” your hand moved to touch your belly. “No no no,” you breathed and looked up at your husband.
“What is it?” His tone softened as he took a step towards you, taking your hands in his as his eyes narrowed with deep concern. “Are you in pain?” You shook your head with your lips slightly parted, still unable to speak because you were in shock. “Hey, talk to me.”
Author’s Note: this just in: emma can’t title for shit. Hooooly shit. That’s all I have to say about this. Willow and I kept talking about Jeremy with a tickling kink, and that lead to us writing this together. And, this is the sequel to this like I promised I’d give you all! Just like last time, they wrote Jeremy’s parts and I wrote Michael’s! We maay have gone a bit far, but we had fun, haha. I hope you all enjoy this! (also, I’m very proud to say this is the longest fic I’ve written, with the help of a friend of course. Thank you Willow~ <3).
**I guess I should leave a bit of a warning for bondage? There’s a bit of that in there, but it doesn’t get too bad ^^
Description: It started with a few video games. It led to Michael giving Jeremy exactly what he wanted, and maybe a bit more.
Word Count: 6,068
“Okay, seriously?” Michael mumbled. “You’ve gotta be cheating, Jeremy…”
“Well, if you call taking a chill pill cheating, then maybe?” Jeremy winked.
“Is your chill pill really an excuse for you beating me in these past 13 levels?!” Michael asked, putting his controller down and looking over at Jeremy.
Jeremy looked at him. “Sore loser, are we~?”
Michael glared at him playfully. “I never said that!”
“I think you’re being a very sore loser indeed,” Jeremy frowned. “That’s not nice…~”