here to formally request amended jk being horny for pregnant bella🙋♀️
Story: Amended Length: 2605 words CW: language, some innuendo, fluff Timeline: Summer before baby is born
Isabella muttered curses under her breath as sudsy water splashed onto the lip of the sink –which wouldn’t have mattered, except that handwashing anything these days required leaning forward over the curve of her belly. It wasn’t possible to lean far enough though; her belly pressed into whatever counter, laundry machine, or grocery store freezer she was dealing with –or, worse, endured the bump of cabinets, doors, or boxes as she underestimated the clearance needed for the time being.
Now she pulled back with a grimace at the soapy line of water straight across her belly, wet fabric clinging uncomfortably to her stretched skin. It was warm water. If it was cold, she might have welcomed the touch of relief, but despite the full blast air conditioning fighting back the heat of this second summer, Isabella was running hot. Ezra had shuffled through wrapped in a blanket not long before, complaining about needing sweaters even though school had just started, but Isabella now contemplated just taking her shirt off and going without.
Yeah, fuck it. Maybe she could finally be a normal human temperature.
“I’m pregnant with a furnace,” she muttered, peeling the wet fabric up and over her head and tossing it to the counter. Her sudsy hand brushed against her face, leaving a trail of bubbles that felt like the wet lick of a dog. She recoiled and brushed at it with her wrist only to wipe on more. Her annoyed grunt as hair plastered itself across her eye, leaving her partially blind, led to another as her belly brushed painfully against the wet counter again, a bit too hard.
“What are you doing?”
“I’ve got soap in my eye,” Isabella complained at Jungkook’s question. She turned, eager for rescue.
“I meant about the dishes,” he corrected. “But baby, there are much better things to get in your eye.”
“Surely you don’t mean–” she broke off at the sound of footsteps heavy on the stairs, but whichever child it was only made it halfway down before turning around. “That would be worse.”
“Let me help you.”
“Just hand me a towel.”
Her one non-soapy eye tracked him pluck a towel from the lower drawer, bending and then rising with all the ease of someone not gestating a watermelon with what looked like a big ol’ round Jungkook head on the sonogram. She held her hand out for the towel, reminding herself that she was only cranky because it was too fucking hot in this kitchen with the sun streaming through the windows over the sink like that. Why had she wanted windows over the sink? What a stupid idea, so she could bake while washing up?
Jungkook draped the towel in her hand, then reached up to push the hair out of her eye, all sweet and loving like. But in the same motion, as she lifted the towel to brush the soap away, Jungkook’s hands landed with the clearest intention directly on her tits. Both hands, palms pressed down against the rounded tops poorly supported by a regular bra straining its last, largest hooks, because she had only bought a couple maternity bras and they were all in the wash because she was sweating like a melting popsicle every damn day lately.
“Buzz off,” she complained, flipping a hand at him as the other ran the towel across her face.
Instead his hands slid down with the obvious purpose of cupping her breasts from below. Unfortunately, the poor fit of the cups surrendered their cargo too easily; her first clear glimpse of his expression showed obvious surprise as her breasts spilled right out into his hands, as if they’d only been waiting for permission.
“Hey!” she cried.
“Happy accident,” he giggled –truly giggled– and palmed them. “Damn.”
“Your hands are too hot!”
“Yeah that’s not the only thing too hot in here,” he corrected. “Let me just– oh shit, that wasn’t me!” he laughed as those final hooks finally gave up the ghost and her bra practically flung itself halfway down her arms, leaving her naked from the waist up.
“Jungkook!”
“That wasn’t me,” he insisted again. “But while we’re here…” He squeezed her breasts but mercifully gentle after months of her occasional complaining about soreness. They didn’t hurt right now, per se, but Isabella felt like they ought to, getting as close as she was to go time. Only a month left!
She huffed but there was no bite to her faux annoyance, both because Jungkook looked like such an endearing goon staring at her chest like that and because the reminder that the end was in sight made it all –the swollen, the bumping, the aching, the nonstop peeing– seem so much more temporary.
“Just clasp me back,” she insisted, turning out of his hands to present her back to him. A shiver ran up her spine despite herself as his hands slid along her bare shoulders, tugging the straps into place, then the band.
“Oh. Uh… yeah, that’s not going to hook again,” he said, then leaned close to murmur near her ear, “Your knockers bent the metal, they wanted to be in my hands so bad.”
“My knockers?” she repeated, incredulous. “Come on, gross.”
“I can think of a lot grosser things to call them right now.”
“Well don’t.”
His hands slid around her, fingertips light along the swell of her belly and then right back up to cup her breasts again, palms lifting and fingers framing her larger darkened nipples.
The light touch would have been nice if not for the sweat she felt pooled beneath and between her breasts, and the painful awareness he could feel it too.
“Don’t,” she complained, trying to twist out of his grasp. “I’m all gross and sweaty.”
“I wouldn’t say you’re gross–”
“I’m way too hot–”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” he said and dropped his lips to her shoulder. “I came to see why you aren’t taking a nap like you’re supposed to and instead I find you all soapy and half naked–”
“I’m not all soapy–” she snorted, only to gasp when his hand suddenly smeared a palm of soap suds across her chest. “Koo!”
“Soapy– hey!” he laughed when she promptly scooped up a hand of bubbles and smeared them across his neck. “Ok, I can work with this–”
“It’s too hot and I’m too big,” she scolded, trying to shove herself back into her mangled bra.
“The bedroom is nice and cool,” he countered. The water ran briefly behind her, and a moment later he ran cold wet hands up her neck. “Much nicer than here. I closed the curtains so it’s dark, too. Good place to lay back, put your feet up–”
“Uh huh.” She tried to hide the shiver in her voice but doubted her success.
“Maybe get a little play time in before our hiatus.”
“Stop calling it a hiatus,” she laughed, opening her eyes. “That makes it sound like we’re taking a break.”
“Just from sex,” he assured her. “Which I understand and respect, for as long as you need to recover. And I will only respectfully watch as your tits get even bigger than this–”
“You’re out of control,” she teased.
“No but I’d like to be, if you would be so kind as to follow me upstairs— damnit,” he sighed as footsteps on the stairs made him slide just back enough so as not to seem indecent in the kitchen. “I don’t suppose this will get better with another one,” he mumbled under his breath as Lily bounded into the kitchen.
“Can I have a popsicle?” Lily asked, not even batting an eye as Isabella reached for her shirt on the counter and tugged it over her head. Not that she expected Lily to be bothered by a flash of breast or anything –and certainly there would be a lot more of that going on if she did nurse the baby like she expected to– but rather the handsiness taking place only a moment before that left Isabella feeling guilty and flushed.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“It’s almost dinner,” Isabella pointed out.
“What your mom said,” Jungkook nodded, turning to the sink and nudging Isabella away. “I’ll finish these dishes up and put it in.”
But Lily gave her big eyes, and it was really fucking hot, and so Isabella relented, “Fine, you can have one, tell Ezra he can too. I guess one popsicle won’t ruin your appetite. Hell, I’ll have one too.”
“Great,” Jungkook mumbled.
“What was that?”
“Nothing,” he grinned. “I’m glad you’re staying hydrated. Whatever helps you cool down.” Isabella had known Jungkook long enough to predict what was in his mind: the image of her mouth closing around the shaft of ice.
As if he needed the mental image to get him going. While Lily ran off with a popsicle in each hand to find her brother, Isabella leaned in, ostensibly to survey Jungkook’s success in finishing the handwashing. She watched him rinse off the suds, up to his elbows, and shake the droplets off his fingers before reaching for the towel she’d tossed aside earlier.
“Safe to turn around now?” she joked, already sliding her hand down his hip to make a point of how turned on he wasn’t at this late stage of her pregnancy.
Except she was very wrong.
“Not yet but you can’t expect me to stare out the window forever. Damn it gets hot right here, we need blackout curtains on that window–” his rambling broke off when she didn’t move her hand away.
“Really?” she asked, then realized it might sound accusatory when she was actually only surprised.
“What, my wife standing topless and sudsy in the kitchen–”
“Eight months pregnant,” she pointed out. “Swollen ankles and big ol’ belly and–”
“Bella, I’m trying to calm down, don’t make it worse!”
“Oh yeah? Which part of what I said is what gets you going–”
“My wife,” he quickly answered, grabbing her hand and pressing it to his chest. “Damn, she really gets me going.”
“Even eight months pregnant.”
“Even eight months pregnant,” he grinned, then leaned in close and whispered, “I think doggy has been working well for us…”
That was the thing, she shouldn’t be surprised, and no wonder her teasing wasn’t going to land. Jungkook had done nothing but make it obvious that her changing, growing, aching body was no less appealing to him than it had been pre-pregnancy. Not even in just a sweet I love my wife no matter what way but in that truly horn-dog, ready to jump her bones, unable to keep his hands off when they were alone kind of way. The bump to him, by his own words, was just more curves to fondle.
“You aren’t getting bored of it?” she asked, letting her other hand join the first on his chest as he slid closer.
“Of… sex? Of your body? What are we talking about here?”
“Of the single position that seems to work for me–”
“Sorry, bored of doggy style? Are you crazy? I think the pregnancy brain is finally getting to you–”
“I swear to god if you talk about pregnancy brain–”
“I don’t think it’s possible to get tired of taking you from behind like that but I am very happy to test it out. For science.” His fingers pressed into her hips, creeping up just beneath the hem of her shirt to touch skin.
“Uh huh. I’m sure you are.”
“And… you? Are you happy to uh… if you aren’t feeling up for it anymore, that’s totally fine, you know? I can use my imagination in the shower…”
She rolled her eyes and tugged on his shirt, scolding, “You better not. I don’t think I’m out of the game yet…” She might have been, if her husband was less attentive, less caring, or less hot. Her hormones weren’t carrying her away or anything, but it was certainly not hard to get herself in the mood with just a bit of ogling when he got out of the shower, or when he rubbed her feet (the best foreplay at the moment), or even starting with the fondness of watching him go about the mundane domesticity of their home and family tasks… Pregnancy certainly hadn’t reduced how down bad they were for each other. “I might be soon,” she admitted, “Things are just getting so uncomfortable, especially if this heat sticks around, but–”
“That will be ok.”
“But not yet,” she winked. “Maybe tonight we can take a shower to cool off together and see where it goes? Oh, or you might need a cool off shower right now…”
“Don’t kick a man when he’s hard,” Jungkook whined and kissed her forehead. “I’m going to uh… go water the plants outside or something… wait, I’ll put a pizza in for dinner first–”
“I’ll put the pizza in,” she corrected. “Don’t let the neighbors see you like that!”
He chuckled and turned the oven on anyway, pulled the pizza from the freezer and had it in the oven before Isabella could insist again she would do it. He’d done the dishes too. Damn, foreplay came in many forms. There was nothing left for her to do but wander to the couch and plop down as he called for Gidget and headed out to the backyard to do a round in making sure the sprinklers were working, the little garden Eomma had planted with the kids at the side of the yard was getting water, that the grass wasn’t too long, that Gidget actually did her business outside (she hated the heat). When Isabella peeked out the window while taking the pizza out of the oven, he’d stripped off his shirt and was standing full under the sprinklers. She had no way of knowing if he was just enjoying a nice cooldown or was still all hot and bothered thinking of her washing dishes topless, even eight months pregnant, because he was ridiculous.
“Appa’s playing in the sprinklers,” Lily called from the door to the patio.
“Isn’t it almost dinner time?” Ezra asked. It only made Lily’s smile broader in the second before she slipped out the door and ran screaming across the yard to join Jungkook. Ezra gave Isabella a bemused aren’t they silly look.
“Well, pizza needs to cool down a bit,” she mused. “We might as well…” She nudged her son as she shuffled past him towards the backdoor, only to call her complaints as he easily sprinted around her. Gidget ran barking circles as the whole family shrieked with laughter beneath the cooling spray.
“Helping?” Isabella teased as Jungkook’s arms closed around her, pressing his wet body against her back.
“Not even a little,” he laughed and whispered in her ear, “Just thinking what the air conditioner is going to do to those nipples later–”
“Behave! We still have dinner, kids going to bed, laundry to put away–”
“Yeah yeah, just making my plans. I don’t mind the wait. Adds to the– hey, don’t aim at your sister’s head!” Jungkook interrupted himself as Ezra’s soccer ball went a bit too suspiciously close. Jungkook patted Isabella’s ass and jogged over to join Ezra in some wiser choices with the ball.
“Later,” Isabella murmured in agreement, too quietly for him to hear, but it warmed her all the same. Jungkook was nothing if not a man of his word and she, even eight months pregnant, would rally until she just couldn’t anymore because when your husband looked at you like that, being pregnant was just a positional challenge in the bedroom, nothing more.
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