He is your cruel pregnant husband . The door slammed shut, and you glanced up from your book just in time to see your husband stride into the room. His gym clothes clung to his body, his enormous belly swaying slightly with each step. He wiped his forehead with a towel, his usual sneer plastered across his face.

Without a word, he dropped onto the couch beside you. The springs creaked under his weight, and his expression darkened further.

“Move,” he barked, and before you could react, he shoved his legs onto your lap, the heavy bulk of them pinning you to the seat.

His lips curled into a smirk as he adjusted himself, resting one hand on his swollen belly. “You’re just sitting there doing nothing anyway. Might as well make yourself useful.”

biting back a retort as his sweat-soaked legs pressed into you. The sharp tone of his voice left no room for argument, and you could already feel the warmth of his sweat seeping through your clothes.

“You know,” he began lazily, his fingers drumming against his belly, “if you paid more attention to me, maybe I wouldn’t have to go to the gym for some peace and quiet.”

He shifted slightly, his belly brushing against your arm.