hiii how are you !! I have an idea/request for u and it’s will smith gets ex!reader pregnant ! If u don’t wanna do this or not taking requests pls act like you never saw this🥹 have an amazing day!!
eventually will smith x pregnant!ex!reader wc: 2.6k warnings: suuuuuper angsty, pregnant reader, mentions of will being a bad bf? note: this can be read as a continuation of the last ex!will fic or a completely new timeline. choose your own adventure, see? 😏
ex!reader masterlist
“can we talk about something?”
you’re laying on the couch, fluffy blanket pulled up to your chin, the secret lives of mormon wives playing on the tv, when will comes into the living room. there’s a look on his face that you don’t like, a look you recognize from every difficult conversation you’ve had with him since breaking up. the look that means you’re not going to like what comes out of his mouth next.
a few months ago, conversations like the one you know is coming weren’t a huge deal. it’s the same thing every time, how he’s so sorry, how much you mean to him, and that he promises he’ll be better than he was before. he promises.
a few months ago, you could just laugh awkwardly, brush him off, and then leave, or kick him out. this conversation usually came after the two of you spent the night together, when he’s feeling particularly tender and misses you the most. after a while, you came to expect it. you’d wake up in the morning, rest in bed for as long as possible, before he inevitably brought it up.
but he hasn’t brought it up in a while. and unfortuantely for you, this conversation isn’t as easy to avoid as it once was.
because now, there’s a very big, very important thing keeping the two of you together.
you’re pregnant.
“about what?” you ask, keeping your eyes on the screen. you know that extending the whole situation by pretending to play dumb isn’t your smartest move, but you’re kind of hoping that if you just dodge whatever he’s going to say for as long as possible, he’ll just give up and move on.
you’re not that lucky.
will moves to the couch without saying anything. you’re lain across the length of it, so you think he won’t be able to sit with you, but you’re wrong. he picks up your ankles, sitting where they were, placing your socked feet in his lap. immediately, he goes to work rubbing and massaging them, causing your eyes to flutter closed and a happy moan to leave your lips.
he goes at this silently for a few minutes, fingers working magic on your swollen feet and ankles. ever since you got pregnant, he’s been like this. so attentive, and caring, and loving.
the baby was a… surprise. to say the least. in hindsight, it honestly shouldn’t have been as shocking as it was, because you and will weren’t being the most careful. yeah, you two have been broken up for a little over a year, but you still saw each other. you still had sex, pretty frequently. honestly, it was almost every time will was home, the two of you were meeting up at least once. most of the time in your apartment, on occasion at his, when mack wasn’t home. and even though you knew better, you know better, there were a few times where the two of you didn’t have any condoms on hand, and didn’t think it would be a huge deal.
well, it turned out to be a pretty huge deal, because now you’re laying in his apartment and eight months pregnant. you don’t live here, not technically. most of your stuff is here now, and the things the two of you have accumulated for the baby are here and not at your apartment, but you refuse to officially move in. will’s been begging you for weeks now, but you’re trying your best to maintain as much independence as you possibly can.
you’re so caught up in the drama unfolding on your tv, and the amazing feeling of will massaging your feet, that you forget how will approached you, not even five minutes ago. that he started that damned conversation.
and then he reminds you.
“i think we should get back together.”
will’s voice is soft, and he says it quiet. almost like he wants you to miss it, to just hum and nod and agree even though you didn’t really hear him. but you did hear him, and your heart drops the second you register his words.
all sense of relaxation from the foot massage dissipates in milliseconds. your whole body tenses, and your heart starts racing.
the very last thing you want right now is to be talking about this.
“will…” your tone is warning. “please. can we just… not?”
you’d been trying to avoid looking at him, but then his gaze swings to you, and like a magnet, your eyes find his. his cheeks are pink and his eyes are glassy, his expression so full of love and yearning your heart nearly stops.
“baby,” he starts, and your breath hitches in your chest. “i know you don’t want to talk about this, but we need to.”
you can’t hold back your scoff. “no, we don’t. in what world do we need to talk about this?” you sit up and look him dead in the eye, trying your best to convey your annoyance at this whole ordeal without having to outright say it. “will, this whole… situation we’re in is already complicated enough. i’m already stressed enough. i just can’t do this right now.”
“what can i do?” he blurts out. you just look at him for a minute, confused on what he’s asking. he sighs, and continues. “what can i do to prove myself to you? that i’m not gonna be like i was. that i’m gonna be a good boyfriend, a good dad. what can i do?”
you just stare at him, dumbfounded, for a few seconds.
this is a question you haven’t prepared for, haven’t really thought about.
“will, i…” you start. you feel a little flutter in your stomach, like butterflies. earlier on in your pregnancy, your baby din’t move very much. you were constantly worried that there was something wrong, calling your doctor at least once a day to ask ten questions at once. a few weeks ago, you and will found out the sex of your baby. a little girl. he’d been ecstatic, kissing your belly and kissing you, holding you close and thanking you for everything that you do, everything you’ve ever done for him. ever since you found out that you’re having a girl, it’s felt like she’s started moving ten times as much. usually it’s a little kick, or a wiggle. it always makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside, but right now, it’s making you sick to your stomach. a reminder of both why you can’t take will back, and also exactly why you should. “i don’t know what to say.”
he gets up from the couch, gently placing your feet back on the cushion, making sure they’re covered by the blanket to keep them warm. you expect him to walk away, to go into his room and wallow in his emotions for a bit, but he doesn’t. will gets on his knees, and shuffles nearer to your head, placing a hand on your belly, your baby girl instantly landing a kick to the exact spot his hand is.
a little smile makes its way onto his face at the feeling, as it always does, but the happiness at her greeting her dad is tinged with the sadness that this whole conversation is causing. your stomach sinks.
“i love you,” he says, your eyes widening in shock. “i know that’s not what you want to hear. i’m sorry. but i can’t not say it anymore, because i need you to know it. i love you so much, and i love our baby. i can’t wait to be a dad, and i’m going to be the best one that i possibly can. i’m always going to be there for her, going to help raise her as much as i can. i’m going to teach her how to skate, teach her how to play hockey. if she wants to play hockey professionally, like i do, i’m going to encourage her and help her to do that, to get there, as much as i possibly can. she’s never going to want for anything. she’s going to feel so loved, never going to doubt that she has someone in her corner. but it’s going to be better, because we’re both going to be there for her, always.”
tears have sprung to your eyes. will’s thumb is caressing your belly, rubbing up and down soothingly, and your daughter has settled, both at the sound of her father’s voice, and at his touch. pregnancy hasn’t been easy, but will has been there for you throughout the whole experience. he’s supported you through every single thing you’ve gone through, told you how beautiful you are when your belly started growing, researched anything and everything you were worried about, and made sure nobody said anything negative to you about anything.
being pregnant with your ex-boyfriend’s baby is a strange experience. you did your best to hide the fact that you were still seeing him, from your friends but most importantly, from your family. your parents and siblings saw you through the worst of the things you dealt with when you and will were together. they held you through his cruel words, and ignored pleads for him to love you.
when the pregnancy test came back positive, you were shocked, scared, excited, and everything in between. you knew pretty much instantly that you wanted to keep the baby, no matter what will said. obviously, when you told him, he was ecstatic. you were honestly more scared to tell your family. they were the ones who witnessed all the damage will caused you firsthand, and you telling them that you’re having his baby was definitely an awkward and tense conversation to have. you assured them that there’s nothing going on between the two of you (lie), and that you only saw him once, which resulted in the pregnancy (another lie).
you and will were together for a year and a half before you broke up. you loved him, you really, really did. throughout that year and a half period, you tried desperately to make it work, to keep it going. before you started dating, you’d been talking on and off for years. you’ve known each other since you were both freshmen at boston college, and you’ve loved him the entire time you’ve known him.
admittedly, you love him now. even after all that he did during your relationship, even though he didn’t realize how much he loves you until after you were gone, you love him. especially through this whole pregnancy, with how unexpected it was, and how unwavering his support for you has been. you’ve really been able to lean on him, to depend and count on him, and you’re so unbelievably grateful for that.
you want to take him back, you do. your life would be ten times easier if you and will were dating, and you know that. but as much as you want to, as hard as you try, you just… can’t.
you take a shaky breath, and start to stand up, pushing will off of you. he stays kneeling on the carpet, eyes watching as you begin to pace the living room. you’re trying desperately not to cry, mostly because you feel like you’ve done nothing but cry this entire pregnancy, and you’re not sure if you have any tears left.
“i want to, will,” your voice is thick. “i want to so bad. trust me, you’re doing amazing. i want our baby to have parents who are together, who love each other and trust each other.”
“then why? why are you holding yourself back?” he gets up and crosses the room so he’s standing right in front of you, gently grasping your hips and pulling you close, so close that your bump grazes his lower stomach. your daughter, pefectly cradled between her parents’ bodies, safe and loved and directly in the middle of every problem they’re having. “just let me love you, baby. love me back.”
“i want to,” you repeat quietly, tears beginning to slide down your cheeks. you let out a sigh and rest your forehead on his shoulder, your arms sliding up and wrapping themselves around his neck. “i just don’t trust you anymore.”
you allow yourself a minute to be held by him, to cry into his shoulder and lean on him and feel how steady and loving he is. you feel him shudder at your words, but he doesn’t say anything. doesn’t ask you why not, or tell you that you can now. he just listens, allows you to seek comfort in his hold, and is just there for you.
you hate him right now.
“you were like this before,” you say, sniffling and ripping yourself away from him at the same time. “before we got together. you were sweet, and caring, and there for me. you said pretty things to me and made me feel loved. but then we got together, and that all stopped. no more nice words, or kisses, or love. you got me, and then you started treating me like shit. i won’t go through that again.”
“y/n…” will takes a step towards you. you take a step away.
“and it’s scarier now. we have a baby on the way,” your cradle your bump protectively, your eyes squeezing shut at the thought that your baby girl could ever possibly go through anything like that you did when you were with will. “she’s not even here yet, and she’s my whole world. you say you won’t treat me like that anymore, won’t treat her like that, but i don’t even want there to be that possibility. i can’t do that to her. i know, logically, that you won’t be like that. at least not with her. but i’m just… scared.”
will stands there, looking at you with an expression that can only be described as heartbroken. he doesn’t say anything, because he knows he can’t. you’re right. he was awful to you when you were together, and it’s the biggest regret of his life, the thing he’s most ashamed of. he hates thinking about it, hates remembering who he was.
he was in a dark place at the time, because of things that weren’t your fault. the team was doing bad, and he felt like he was failing in life. he took it out on you, and that wasn’t fair.
will has never blamed you for breaking up with him. even the day that you did it, when he was feeling the most tender and the most raw, he understood. which makes him feel worse, because he knew that he was being a bad boyfriend, a bad person. and yet, he thought you would stay anyway.
he collapses onto the couch, resting his elbows on his knees and holding his head in his hands. on the other side of the room, you stand, the love of his life and the mother of his daughter, staring at him with fear and love warring on your face and in your heart.
“i have to protect myself, will,” you say softly. “i have to protect my heart.”
“i know,” he murmurs. he looks up at you finally, and the sadness in his eyes nearly makes your knees buckle “just know that i love you. and i’m here when you’re ready.”
you nod, heart aching in your chest. “i know. i love you too.” will’s eyes widen, but you turn away so you don’t see the exact expression on your face. you just can’t handle it. you start walking towards will’s room, knowing that he won’t follow you, even though it’s his apartment. you stop right before you enter to say, “i’ll get there. not right now, but i’ll get there. eventually.”
a/n: woof this one is... rough 😭 i really struggled with writing this one for some reason, and there were MAAAAAAAAANY iterations of it, but i'm happy with how it came out! this is... probably the angstiest thing i've ever written, but i feel like that's at the core of every ex!will fic! so it's okay! thank you all so much for the support and love on this series, it's so encouraging and never fails to put a smile on my face. you guys are all the best, and i'm so thankful that i have this blog, and this creative outlet. i hope you guys enjoy this one, and have a wonderful day or night <3