Interracial Imagines and Preferences (Completed)

Imagine: I Can't Do It

You were 9 months pregnant with your baby boy, Nathan Chris Maloley Jr. Nate had took some time off from touring and recording to make sure you were okay, at all times. As of now, Nate, who was also your husband of a year,  was downstairs making popcorn for you, with chocolate syrup on top with a warm glass of lemon juice. Weird combination, but it all comes with the pregnancy. You were laying in your shared bedroom, the show Married To Medicine on.

"Nate, c'mon! It's about to come back on!" You shout, but really just wanting the food.

The sound of his feet alerted you that he was coming. He walked into the room, his sweatpants hanging low, showing his white underwear, his bare chest glowing in the sunlight from the window. He handed you the bowl of popcorn, placing the lemon juice on your nightstand. He sat down next to you, but quickly stood up.

"Nate, you good?" You question, eating the popcorn nonchalantly while looking at the TV.

"Lil' mama, did you pee in the bed, or did your water just break?" Nate has a curious but yet, worried expression upon his face.

Before you're able to answer his question, you arch your back, screaming with pain. You move the bowl of popcorn to the nightstand, cradling your stomach, pain shooting through you like fireworks.

"Oh shit." Nate mumbles to himself, picking you up from the bed.

You weren't supposed to be due for another week, scaring the hell out of you and especially Nate. Nate quickly put you in the car, running back into the house for the baby bag you had packed just yesterday, and for a shirt and a pair of shoes for himself. He threw the bag in the back, getting in the driver's seat, holding your hand as he drove to the hospital.
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"Nathan Montgomery Maloley, I'm gonna rip your dick off after this!" You yelled at him, as you lay in the hospital bed, your hand squeezing his tightly. "How dare you get me pregnant? I'm going to kick yo ass!"

You weren't able to finish that last sentence, due to another contraction crashing into your body.

"I know lil' mama. You can chop it off and throw it in a river, but right now, just focus on your breathing." Nate lazily smiled, using his other hand to run his fingers through his hair.

"Okay Mrs. Maloley, you're all set to deliver." One of the nurses in the room smiled at you, but you were in no smiling mood.

After a few hours, you're exhausted, everyone trying to encourage you, but you were too tired, and your son still wasn't here.

"N-Nate, I'm sorry. I can't. I just can't." You broke, as you held on to his hand, tears falling on to your cheeks.

"What do you mean lil' mama?" Nate mumbles, pushing your sweat drenched hair behind your ears.

"Nate, it hurts too much." You sob, wanting the pain to just end already. "I can't do it."

"Yes you can, (Y/N). You can do it." Nate looks into your eyes, wiping away the tears off of your face. "We can do it."

With that being said, Nate places a kiss on your lips, squeezing your hand for support. After a few more hours, your son was born: at 5:49 am, on August 26, 2015. You and Nate couldn't have been happier, with your bundle of joy.

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Wow, first imagine and already made the first preference! I am on a roll right now, pm me if you'd like a request.

»Kay