"Can I call you Mommy?"Daddy!Jean Kirstein x Pregnant Reader (AU)

Chance

(Authors note: I recommend you listen to the song. As always, thanks for reading!)

Marco stayed with us for 6 days. Him and Jean got on together like a house on fire. Their friendship was truly amazing. Most nights, whenever I was occupied giving baths to Arabel, or painting Maddalyn's nails, I would hear the clank of beer bottles and hearty laughter erupt from them both, and it made me happy to hear. Although it bothered me slightly how Jean hadn't even thought of looking for a new job, I just didn't want to push him, and left him to enjoy the short time he had with his best friend.

It had been a fun week, and on the last day, Marco took Maddalyn and Jean to the local bowling alley while I went for an early summer evening stroll with Arabel. A couple of hours passed quickly in the lazy sun.
"What a blast!" Marco said as the trio entered through the door, light shining in from the sun,  the reflections creating patterns on the floor.
"Welcome back!" I greet them.
"Oh, shoot." Jean says. "Hey, me and Maddalyn are just gonna head out to the store. We'd forgotten to pick up some snacks for later tonight. We'll see you later." And with that, Jean and Maddalyn leave.
Marco steps into the kitchen with a warm smile, his hair parted neatly, wearing a bright blue unzipped hoodie, belted jeans and his worn out red Chucks, the ones he'd had for years and never seemed to replace. I hand him a cup of coffee I had already prepared, and we stand together in that kitchen, almost a little too close. He's acting tense, I think. I start to ask him about what he plans to do after college.
"I never thought I'd get the chance to actually go to college, you know. With it being so expensive, I mean. Venturing out there was a big step for me, and it's partly thanks to you guys for pushing me in the right direction."
I give his arm a gentle up and down rub and beam at him.
"It's just the chance you've gotta take." I tell him.
The sun then hits his chestnut eyes and I see the colour in them dance for a moment.
"Yeah, exactly. It's all about chances when it comes to getting something you really want." He says. I watch his eyes slowly trail down to my lips. He's moving in closer. I'm moving in closer. What are you doing? I'm centimetres away. It happens in the time a butterfly takes to flutter its wings. Like the way you see lighting before you hear the thunder. His lips are so soft. Mine feel tender to the touch. It's electric. He tastes really good, I think. I hold my shaking hand against his chest, and he takes it. I'm unable to look up at him, guilty. I keep my eyes closed, feeling his lips press against mine again, noses touching. His hands move around my waist and settle nicely.
"Just... one more, (Y/N)." He says.
"Marco... we cant... we can't do this." I tell him, barely speaking, still in shock, but I'm still in his arms. My heart pounds like the marching of a parade. This was so wrong. What was I doing? I lean into him closely again.

Don't go to war for me
I'm not the one that you want me to be

His lips brush against my neck, pecking slightly. Hearing his every breath so close feels so overwhelming to me. I've known this man for so long yet I had never envisioned this. But at the same time, I wanted this. Still placing his hands on the small of my back, he embraces me one last time. The last time.
"I'm sorry. I'm gonna...leave now. To find Maddalyn and Jean. They've been gone a while, huh." He whispers with a slight voice crack. Then I'm left all alone in my kitchen, eyes welling up with tears, tears that fall so quickly that I feel blinded. Blinded of how stupid I've been in those previous minutes. 15 minutes pass. Running the tap, I grab myself a glass of water and gulp it down. The glass drops. Smash. The door opens. Jean and Maddalyn walk in, plastic shopping bags in their hands, and I fall to the floor, surrounded by fragments of shattered glass the size of my tears. My husband calls my name. Loud. I'm deafened and blinded. I feel the floor swallowing me hole as Jean embraces my trembling body.

Don't call me up at 2.A.M tonight.
It feels so damn good and I wish that you would

2:02am. Saturday. 1 missed call from Marco. He's probably just drunk, I think. A fortnight had passed after the incident. My mind is racing through endless thoughts. I'd covered up the ordeal of me breaking the glass with the whole dad contacting me urgently out of the blue thing. Jean believed me. I wish he hadn't. Marco left that night. He said goodbye, and we hugged, but it felt cold. I placed a finger to my lips, tracing where Marco had kissed me. The guilt was intense, and I couldn't close my eyes without thinking about him. I'd discussed the text from my father with Jean, and he'd handled it very lightly, telling me to ignore the 'old sod' and other names I'd rather not repeat. I'd decided to meet up with my father in a few days, but my mind continued to feel unsettled. Marco. Letting out a heavy sigh, I roll over to see Jean sleeping very peacefully. One amber eye stares back at me in the hint of light coming from the moon. I feel an icy breeze hit me from the window, unusual for summer, I think.
"Honey, you haven't fell asleep yet?" He asks, voice low and raspy.
"A lot on the mind." I tell him, both my hands covering my forehead as I stare into darkness.
"Hmm... I think I've got a little trick up my sleeve." The sheets rustle and before I know it he's on top of me, skin touching, heart racing, lips on my neck. Lifting up my shirt, leaving soft kisses that he works his way down from my chest.
A loud cry comes from Arabel across the hall, and I kiss Jean's cheek quickly, apologising, before rushing out the room. I can feel his disappointment, and it shudders through me. We hadn't made love in weeks. Cheeks flushed. The guilt overpowering me.

Can you stomach the doubt?
I wish I could say what I'm feeling
I'm scared to let these words out