Cursed

Cursed (Main Story)

Hi, if you think this work is familiar you might have already read this on AO3 or Tumblr under a different pen name. I use Drew Harrison, Bump-O-Lantern, and Moondjarin for my fan fiction work and kink space stories.

Very graphic and sexual birth. MDNI. 18+.

This is pure filth with very little plot--if there's even a plot at all. LMAO. Not beta'ed, we die like men here.

This story is for a very specific kink space. If this isn't your thing, move along, please. Thank you.
If you're interested in commissioning a story, my commissions are currently OPEN. Check out my commission's page here https://www.tumblr.com/bumpolantern/750701426885443584/commissions

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The sun dipped low, casting warm, golden hues over the sprawling cottage nestled deep within the woods. The house, with its ivy-covered walls and flower boxes bursting with color, was a labor of love—a testament to the dreams they once had. Inside, a fire crackled softly in the hearth, its light dancing across the wooden beams above. Amelia hummed softly as she moved through the kitchen, her hands busy with kneading dough. She was already feeling the familiar pressure low in her belly, a sensation that had become a routine part of her days. But today, it seemed to be starting earlier than usual.

Amelia paused, one hand pressing against her rounded abdomen. "Looks like today's going to be a busy one," she murmured to herself, feeling the first contractions ripple through her. They were more insistent than they'd been earlier that morning. She took a deep breath, steadying herself, then resumed her task, her hips swaying slightly as she worked.

The back door creaked open, and in stepped Elias, her husband, his face weary from chopping wood all afternoon. He paused when he saw her, his gaze softening as it always did when he looked at her. Even now, years after they'd been cursed, the sight of her never failed to pull at his heart.

"Hey, love," he greeted, setting his axe by the door. "How are you holding up?"

Amelia offered him a tired but affectionate smile, wiping her flour-dusted hands on her apron. "Oh, you know," she said with a casual shrug, "the usual. Feels like it's going to be another big one today."

Elias's brow furrowed slightly in concern. He crossed the room in a few strides, his large hands resting on her shoulders, squeezing gently. "Do you need to lie down? I can finish up here."

Amelia shook her head, her dark curls bouncing. "Not yet. I'd rather keep busy. Helps keep my mind off things. Plus, the bread won't bake itself."

Elias smiled softly, though the pain behind his eyes was unmistakable. They'd learned to live with this—this twisted curse that kept them from the family they'd dreamed of. Every day, Amelia brought new life into the world, only for it to vanish moments later, leaving them with nothing but aching hearts and empty cradles.

"Let me at least help with that," Elias insisted, his voice gentle but firm. He slid his hands down to her hips, feeling the subtle shiver that ran through her as another contraction hit. "Just lean on me, sweetheart."

Amelia let out a low, throaty moan as the pain intensified, her fingers gripping the edge of the counter. "I'm alright," she panted, though the sweat beading on her brow told another story. "Just... gods, I can feel it moving already."

Elias's touch was steady and grounding, his presence a constant anchor through the storm of her daily labor. He pressed a kiss to her temple, his beard tickling her skin. "I've got you, Amelia. You don't have to do this alone."

Amelia leaned into him, her breath hitching as the pressure inside her grew more intense. She could feel the baby's head crowning, the unmistakable weight and urgency between her legs. "I know, Elias," she whispered, her voice thick with a mix of pain and gratitude. "I just... wish they'd stay."