#pregbert

Thank you for the tags @capseycartwright and @bartonmatty <3 since I promised to be extra mean to Clara, here’s a little more than seven sentences 😌

cw: mpreg, kidnapping, peril

In the dream, Aaron’s leaning over from his side of the bed to cradle Robert’s jaw in his palm, gently guiding his chin until their eyes meet. Robert thinks he might remember this moment—the morning after they’d found out they were pregnant, just a few days shy of Christmas. Aaron had been curled in close, his expression switching between pure adoration to a mildly terrified kind of awe as he gazed between Robert, and the tiny bump around Robert’s belly-button that was their child.

Aaron looks like he’s about to say something—smiling just as he had in Robert’s memory of that day—when suddenly his expression shifts entirely and his voice takes on a desperate tone.

“You’re freezing,” he tells Robert with a frown so deep that it seems to carve great trenches into the memory of their bliss. “And I don’t know where you are. Robert—what—what if I can’t find you in time?”

Robert doesn’t know what to say. He tries to think of something that will reassure Aaron’s concern, but the dream’s already starting to fade, taking every ounce of warmth and comfort and love that came with it, until Robert’s left blinking awake in the cold to find himself face to face with his psychotic half-brother instead.

“Your pulse is weak,” John tells him simply, his fingers still resting on Robert’s neck. Just like Aaron’s had been…

Robert recoils as far as the ropes around his wrists will allow—which isn’t very far at all—and his movements are sluggish at best. He’s dehydrated and shivering, he’s barely eaten or slept in days and the exhaustion is making the morning sickness so much worse, leaving him dry-heaving at every other moment of the day. But despite all of that, he manages to scramble backwards a little. His feet struggle to find purchase on the damp, rotten floor of the derelict barn he’s being kept in, but he’s beyond determined to put as much space as possible between himself, and his captor.

“Get the fuck away from me!” Robert hisses, pouring as much revulsion as he can into every last syllable, only for John to roll his eyes.

“I’m trying to help you,” he says with a long-suffering sigh, staring down in the direction of Robert’s abdomen long enough to be uncomfortable—having the nerve to hold his hands out, palms up, in surrender as if to say he means no harm even though all of the evidence points to the contrary.

“Then let me go,” Robert spits, louder this time, frantically tugging at his restraints for the thousandth time until the burning at his wrists becomes unbearable and his shoulders slump with exhaustion and pain.

John, however, looks on with something akin to disinterest and exasperation, thoroughly unbothered by it all, as usual.

teehee 🤭

It should be against the law for Chas to say this in an Emmerdale episode and not be referring to pregbert and/or the arrival of a robron baby 🥺💔

Thank you for the tags @jonathan-harks @bartonmatty @jackiemerrick @barnbert @stuckinanothertimezone @thatnervouswreck @dreamer-of-ships 💕

Rules: Post the last line you wrote and tag as many people as there are words (or as many as you want)

"…d-don't, John, no—please—I—I'm—I'm pregnant!" Robert shouts—his voice hoarse with it, the words practically clawing their way out of his throat against his will in a desperate bid for survival—and when John drops the syringe in surprise, the needle snaps clean-off as it hits the ground.

Holy run-on-sentence Batman!

i might be going to otakon :o i love in maryland but like an hour or so away from baltimore hmmMM