Rapid Pregnancy Fiction

My boyfriend's childhood friend got knocked up. To save her rep, Quentin Palmer married her. When I asked what that meant for me—and our baby—he stayed ice-calm. "Rainee's not like you. I'm all she's got. She wouldn't survive the gossip." Like I had anyone else? Like I wasn't carrying his baby too? Later, while people laughed behind my back about the "fatherless" kid I was having, Quentin just stood there—next to Rainee, silent. That's when it hit me—love comes with a pecking order. So I ended the pregnancy. Gave up my baby... all so he could play the hero for her.

My boyfriend, Nick, has finally returned after a decade-long battle in the south. I'm overjoyed when he tells me he'll marry me and make me his Luna. At that moment, I feel like I've finally found my home. But after getting pregnant, I accidentally come across a treasure trove of videos of him and my best friend, Sherry, in bed together. His journal also details his love for her. I log in to his extra WhatsApp account. Sherry has already blocked his number, but he still sends her messages of love—confession videos, words, and voice messages. I head to the hospital for a prenatal checkup. That's where I see My Alpha, Nick, getting on one knee before Sherry with a bouquet in one hand and his family heirloom—a moonstone necklace—in the other. He proposes to her. "I gave up on my dream to conquer the southern packs to return and see you, Sherry. I only have one goal—to marry you! Our child can't be without a father, and I'll mark you once you say yes! I'll make you my Luna!" he says. I turn away and make an appointment for an abortion. Then, I leave. Unexpectedly, he abandons Sherry and their child to come after me like a madman.

The night before I was supposed to marry the heir to the Moretti family, I found a string of ninety-nine filthy texts on my fiancé Leo’s phone. A woman named Ava Collins, telling him she loved him. Shameless. Desperate. She was begging him to call off our wedding, threatening to kill herself if he went through with it. I didn’t waste a second. I shoved the phone in his face and demanded an explanation. The silence stretched for an eternity before he finally broke. “Her brother was Liam. My underboss. He took a bullet for me. My bullet. I promised him I’d look after her.” "Jennifer, we grew up together. You know it’s you. It’s always been you. I swear, I’ll handle it. I’ll cut her off." I searched his eyes, hunting for the lie. I swallowed the acid in my throat and chose to believe him. The wedding was on. This was bigger than us. It was a treaty signed in blood between two families. And God help me, I still loved him. But on our wedding day, as we stood at the altar, vows on our lips, Leo got the call. It was her. Ava. On a bridge, threatening to jump. Demanding he come. Now. The diamond ring, a breath away from my finger, clattered to the stone floor of the church. Not a word. Not a single explanation. He just left. Left me, our families, our future... left me standing alone at the altar. Through a blur of tears, I screamed after him, "Leo, if you walk out that door, we are done!" His only reply, tossed over his shoulder, “She needs me.” He never looked back. Carrying his child, I vanished from his world and never looked back.

On the day of the SAT exam, my girlfriend’s childhood friend, Benedict Casper, forgot his admission ticket at home. She insisted on retrieving it for him, but I begged her not to go. In the end, Benedict missed his final chance for taking the exam and, overwhelmed by despair, he jumped to his death. Years later, my girlfriend, Ella Simpson, and I graduated from Whitmore Institute of Technology, landed high-paying jobs, and built a picture-perfect marriage. But on the anniversary of Benedict’s death, she stabbed me repeatedly, her voice trembling with rage, “You killed him. If I’d gotten his admission ticket, he would’ve never jumped.” When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the exams. Ella’s frantic voice rang in my ears, “I have to go back, Dominic. I need to get Benedict’s ticket!” This time, I smiled and said, “Go ahead. Be careful on the way.”

After I was falsely accused of being a third wheel by a fake heiress, she hired a group of people to corner me in the delivery room under the pretense of giving me an intervention. "How dare you, a shameless mistress, hope to secure a place with your child!" "Today, I'm going to make sure that b*stard in your belly is gone for good. Let's see if you dare get into my man's bed again." The group blocked the delivery room door, their faces twisted with malice as they refused to let the doctors deliver my baby. I begged them to let me go, but they only laughed cruelly and forced me down in front of a camera while I struggled through labor. They forcefully pulled the baby out of my belly and killed him right in front of me. I clung to my child's lifeless body, sobbing hysterically, while they posted my miserable state online with the caption, 'This is what happens to mistresses.' Later, I exposed her fake heiress status and revealed the dirty secrets of her and those people who were allegedly giving me an intervention online. Relentlessly attacked by netizens until she had nowhere left to turn, she ended up begging me for forgiveness. I pointed to the edge of the rooftop and said, "Jump, and I'll forgive you."

My husband’s the only son of the richest man in Ivoneu. As for me, I’m an orphan. His parents objected to us being together. When I got pregnant, they got on a plane and came to collect us in person. After that, I posted a picture I took with my husband, captioned, [I’m so thankful for you. Our life is going to be perfect from now on.] Little did I know that the rich girl my husband had been dating online would confront me.  She beat me until I had a miscarriage, then she stepped on my belly and declared viciously, “You are a nasty seductress! That makes the baby inside you a bad seed, too! Purging the baby is my contribution to society! “It’s just a fetus, anyway. I have more than enough money to get away with it!”

My Alpha husband, Ryder, has always hated the sound of a crying pup. But recently, he started caring for my adopted sister's newborn pup, staying by its side in the nursery every night until dawn. Every time Ryder left our bedroom for the nursery, an inexplicable stabbing pain would pierce through my chest. This agony would last all night until dawn when he returned. I had finally reached my breaking point. At the Full Moon Festival, I announced in front of the entire pack that I was rejecting our mate bond. The pack's mind-link erupted with whispers that the battle had damaged my mind. A golden light ignited in Ryder's eyes as he stared at me in disbelief. "Because I was too busy to check on you when you were injured, you're rejecting our bond over a six month old pup?" I didn't meet his eyes. Instead, my gaze lingered on the faint lipstick mark smudged inside his collar. My voice trembled, yet it did not waver. "Since you love her pup so much, once our bond is severed, you can openly be the father."

I end up suffering from a miscarriage after getting attacked by a Rogue on the highway. At that moment, my mate, Jerry Shaw, happens to drive by me with his Omega assistant, Monica Reed. As soon as Jerry sees my white dress that's completely stained red, he covers Monica's eyes instantly, blocking her curious gaze. "Don't look. It's bad luck," he says coldly. The next second, the car speeds off. Jerry doesn't even glance in my direction. I collapse onto the ground and try to reach Jerry through our mind-link. Once, twice, ten times... By the 99th attempt, there's still no response. That's when it hits me—to him, neither I nor our pup matters. That evening, I find something under the bed. It's a pair of black lace panties studded with rhinestones. It's sexy, expensive, and clearly not mine. Expressionless, I toss it into a drawer like a useless scrap of trash. Then, I call Jimmy Norwood. My voice is calm and steady as I say, "I've made up my mind. Next week, I'm leaving the pack. I'll come to your territory and start the new job."

My husband's first love gets engaged. To make her regret it, he abandons me, his newlywed wife, and joins a research project down at the southern tip of the earth. I've made 999 attempts across several years to visit him, with each one ending in failure. After five years, I stopped going. During a lively birthday party, he suddenly shows up. When he sees my slightly bulging belly, he howls in anger. "I spent five years at the research base, and not once did you care about how I was doing! Who's the father of the bastard child you're pregnant with?" "It's none of your business," I calmly reply.

My ex-boyfriend’s first love insisted on dragging me onto the drop tower ride, which caused me to have severe bleeding from the trauma. When it happened, he used her fear of blood as an excuse to cover her eyes and hurry away, abandoning me in a pool of blood. In that critical moment, Steven Landers, the amusement park designer, rushed me to the hospital just in time. After losing the baby, I was completely devastated. Then to my surprise, he got down on one knee at the amusement park and proposed, promising me happiness for the rest of my life. After we got married, I became pregnant again. But I accidentally stumbled across his chat with a ride maintenance worker. "Mr. Landers, your wife already lost a child because of Miss Smith. You mentioned she has difficulty getting pregnant, so why are you pulling the same trick to get her on the drop tower again?" Steven casually touched his wedding ring and replied, "She's the reason Anne can never be a mother, so I absolutely won't let Myla give birth to a child that would upset her." "But that's your child too! How can you do this?" "So what? This is what she owes Anne. The drop tower is the perfect way to make it look like an accident. Tomorrow is Myla's birthday, and I'll personally take her on the ride. If she tries to run, I need all of you to help catch her!" So that was his plan all along—to use the drop tower to cause another "accident" and make me lose my baby!