Marinette Pregnant Novels & Stories

"What's wrong with me?" "You're pregnant," Ava said, the two words falling into the quiet room like heavy iron weights. "Six weeks. The pup is healthy, Kaira... but its aura is unmistakable. It carries the Alpha bloodline of the Golden Pack." The world stopped. The crackle of the fireplace, the howling mountain wind outside, the sound of my own breathing—everything vanished, replaced by an agonizing, deafening ringing in my ears. Liam's child.

She ensured that Raelyn would never attempt to contact Charles and vice versa. Renee thought her plan was solid until, one day, she witnessed Raelyn crying in the living room of their new apartment. Her sister said, "Margaret, I'm four months pregnant. What will I do?"

Mariana refused to hold the ceremony because she doesn't want to look fat in her wedding pictures. Yeah..... You heard it clearly. Those were her exact words, when she found out she was pregnant she decided to keep the baby and push back their wedding for yet another year. She's always the reluctant and unruly one, she was quite wild back in the day but I guess she did find her soulmate who was able to tame her.. Something no one else could do even our parents!

Mariana refused to hold the ceremony because she doesn't want to look fat in her wedding pictures. Yeah..... You heard it clearly. Those were her exact words, when she found out she was pregnant she decided to keep the baby and push back their wedding for yet another year. She's always the reluctant and unruly one, she was quite wild back in the day but I guess she did find her soulmate who was able to tame her.. Something no one else could do even our parents!

, she said after breaking the embrace and now, she’s holding her right hand with both her hands. “That was an understatement. We were dying to meet them,” said another gorgeous woman, obviously pregnant, wearing pink venus cut maternity dress. “Hi, I’m Margerette. You can call me Marge, I’m Rafe’s wife,” she introduced herself with a big smile on her face. “Sam,” she answered, and just like Max, Marge grabbed her into a hug. “How far are you?”, she asked trying to be comfortable despite the awkwardness she feels with this whole situation.

"I've been trying to tell you for days, but you never seem to have the time. I'm pregnant, Greg. We're having another baby." The room fell silent, and Marianne's heart raced as she waited for Greg's response. She had anticipated anger, denial, or even indifference, but she had not expected the silence that followed. It was as if Greg had frozen in time, unable to process the news.

I was sure she and Randall had received the mail that Marshall personally dropped at their home, as they lived near the training building. I turned around, holding my big stomach, and came face-to-face with the very pregnant Marcia. Ours was our honeymoon baby made in Orleans, while theirs was weeks older than ours, conceived on the night of their marking. “Hey there, beautiful,” I greeted her, and my eyes shifted to Randall, who bowed his head toward me in respect before he moved along and went to the group of warriors that were resting in the corner. “Back at you, sexy mama!” She giggled, and I could see her eyes sparkling. “We got the letter.”

He walked off with Clayd, and Anne leaned toward me. “I’m pregnant, Marinel,” she said softly. “Wow! That’s amazing news!” I smiled genuinely. “I know, right? Clayd’s going to have a little brother. You should visit us in Iligan again. The last time you did was two years ago!” “Sorry, Anne. Work’s been hectic, and I’ve been juggling everything with Clayd. But I promise—once I’ve saved up a bit, we’ll head straight there.” She smiled understandingly.

When I returned to the deck with a glass of cocktail juice, ice cream, and wine, Mila and Angelo were throwing food to the dolphins. The view was spectacular. I must be lucky… that God gave me this family when I was desperate. Desperate… A memory flashed in my mind as I placed the tray on the table. “Levi! I’m pregnant!” my wife had said happily that day. But I wasn’t surprised. The doctor had already told me. “Mr. Marcuae,” he had said, adjusting his glasses as he placed the report in front of me, his expression grim. “Your wife is pregnant.”