"What??" I asked, staring at her in confusion as my barely awake brain had trouble comprehending Eve's words.

My beautiful, 6 months pregnant wife stared back at me, not sleepy at all. She doesn't sleep, she just cuddles with me at night when I sleep.

It was sweet and heartwarming. And even though her undead body is unable to produce body heat, I always felt warmer in her embrace.

But ever since she got pregnant there were some nights when she woke me up to go and grab something from the kitchen. I didn't blame her, I heard about pregnant women having weird cravings during pregnancy so I didn't blame her for it.

But due to the fact that she was a vampire, her cravings were a little more...special.

"Peanut butter, bring me smooth peanut butter from the kitchen." Her soft, gentle voice replied, repeating the same words she said to me when she woke me up.

"Oh." I let out as my brain finally became awake enough to comprehend the words she said to me.

I got up from the bed, went to the kitchen, grabbed the requested item, and went back to our bedroom. The whole ordeal took 1 minute if not less.

I handed her the Jar together with a butter knife and laid back down on the bed. I didn't even flinch when she started to spread the substance on my wrist and then sunk her teeth into it.

I got used to the bites a long time ago, and they were never truly painful to begin with, just a little bit uncomfortable.

"G'night." I murmured as I drifted back to sleep, letting her have her late-night snack.

"Good night, I love you." I heard her reply and felt her giving me a peck on the cheek before she sunk her teeth back into my peanut butter-covered wrist.

(this got away from me and the prompt quickly, but not gonna lie, love the direction it went, so here you go!)

"Could you repeat that, darling?"

"Ox blood," Valerie said desperately. "I really want ox blood-now."

"Alright, I'll go grab some," I said, glad that I had some stored as I hurried down the stairs and to the blood cooler in the basement.

Now this was something I could never explain to my human friends-a cooler of blood in the basement, that sounded...kind of serial-killer-y. But anything for my wife.

I quickly dug through the blood bags and pulled out a bag of ox blood and ran upstairs, carefully handing it to her-

"Can you get some ice cream?" Valerie asked quickly. "To mix the ox blood with? Blood flavored ice cream sounds so good-"

"That one might take a bit," I said, remembering that she had eaten the last of the ice cream this morning. "I'll make a quick trip to the store-"

"I'll come with," Valerie said, standing up-

"Woah, woah, easy now-remember why you don't leave when pregnant?" I asked, and we both winced slightly at the reminder. Valerie had smelt a mugging happening, and...well, we're lucky there were no cameras around to see what happened. And that I'm so good at getting blood out of my clothes...and that she didn't kill me when her thirst hadn't been quenched from drinking the blood of four humans-three muggers and one victim...twice victim, none of them walked out of there after that.

"Be quick?" Valerie asked.

"Of course, love," I said, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek as I hurried down the stairs, grabbing my coat and wallet before dashing out the front door and to the nearby convenience store.

I stepped inside the store-

-and immediately froze as I saw a robber holding a gun to the sobbing cashier's head.

Well, this wouldn't be easy.

"The f**k you doing!" the robber snapped, waving the gun at me, probably meaning to intimidate me, but that's rich-Valerie's father's shovel talk made me scared of nothing else-I just need that ice cream.

"Getting ice cream," I said as I took a step forward.

"Don't you take another step!" the robber snapped, fully pointing the gun at me. "I'll shoot!"

"Try me," I said.

The robber clearly looked surprised at that, which gave me just enough of a chance to rush forward and tear the robber's finger away from the trigger, then the full gun, then I flicked the safety on before tossing the gun to the side and punching the robber square in the jaw, causing him to stumble away and let go of the cashier, who collapsed to the ground and scrambled for her phone.

I grabbed the robber's wrists and spun him around, shoving him to the floor face-down.

"Grab me some rope!" I said as the robber kicked and screamed-but I've had to hold Valerie back from attacking humans before, I'm not gonna budge.

"R-Right!" the cashier squeaked, rushing into the aisles and grabbing some cords and tearing the package open, handing it to me.

I quickly knotted the robber's hands and feet together as the cashier picked up her phone and called the cops, then I tied some rope around the robber's mouth to keep him from talking too much-or, well, to at least muffle him a bit.

"Now that that's settled," I said, standing up and dusting off my hands, "ice cream."

"Sir, you'll have to stay-" the cashier said, shaking and gesturing with her phone, already on the phone with 911.

"I see..." I said, then held out my hand. "May I?"

The cashier handed me the phone, and I held it to my ear.

"Sir, I need you to stay on the scene-" the operator started.

"I'm only here to buy vanilla ice cream, my wife prefers flavor red," I said, saying a code I know that any operator would know well-let me go about my business, or my vampire wife will not be happy. (How odd that so many people-officers, doctors, emergency staff in general-know about vampires, and yet the general public is oblivious.)

"...I see," the operator said. "Hand me back to the cashier-but first, name?"

"Owen Popplewell, I live at XXXX Eastern Maple," I said.

"Alright, Mr. Popplewell, hand me back to the cashier," the operator said.

I did so quickly, then grabbed a bunch of tubs of vanilla ice cream before walking back to the counter, where the cashier looked confused, but, on the insistence of the operator, rang me up and checked me out.

"Thanks, ma'am," I said, then dashed home-

"Ah, ah, ah," I said as Valerie opened the door to greet me, clearly about to have walked to the store herself. "You know better, love-let's go in-we won't be running out of ice cream for a few more days."

"You took so long," Valerie pouted.

"I got a little...held up-but enough about that," I said. "Ox blood mixed with ice cream?"

"Yes!" Valerie said, beaming at me.

"Magnus!" The voice was music to the ears, and as sweet as freshly dripped honey. The repetition of my name was closer to a snarling reptile.

"Magnus!!" my otherwise loving wife spat. "Attend to me!"

With a mournful sound, I entered the parlor to find Guinevere lying on the divan. The mother-to-be was four months along, with a pronounced bump, unusual to vampire kind. Her evening sickness had morphed to cravings, and I would be on call and in demand until our cursed event, likely during the Buck Moon in July. That assumes birth for vampires follows the tradition human schedule. It's been a few hundred years, so who is to say?

"Yes, my sweet," I said, as I bowed my head in her direction.

"Don't, 'my sweet' me, Magnus! You're why I'm in this condition."

On this, I could be certain. The only other challenge for my lover's heart occurred when it still beat and quickened at my touch. He perished at my hand, but not before he bit Guinevere, who later came to me from her grave.

"Magnus, I require the blood of a virgin."

I sighed. "Darling, where am I to find a virgin at this time of night? They're all in bed. In their homes. Unlikely to welcome me in."

"Your baby wants the blood of a virgin. And not one of the drunken losers you drag from the pub. The baby doesn't need idiot blood."

I adjusted my old cloak upon my shoulders. Guinevere had my new one wadded up beneath her legs, as if that would increase circulation. I dared not argue the point.

"How about the blood of a lamb with virgin wool?"

"Magnus!"

"There are many farms nearby to select from..."

"Magnus!"

The severe look on her face whispered the repercussions should she state my name for a third time.

"Yes, dear." Drawing up my cloak about me, I withdrew from the parlor and the old family mansion we shared. As I trod down the slabs of slate in the front walk, it occurred to me that we would be soon be a family. This errand was for the child, and I should be happy to complete it.

Still, as I closed the gate behind me, I decided to walk in the moonlight rather than take to the skies. More time to reflect on the changes death brings. And also time to figure where to find a non-pub virgin. I didn't know if she'd recognize lamb's blood if I bottled it. It was probably better not to chance it.

--

More stories at r/xwhy

Edit: added "bit".

As we have to live in the basement of our house, my wife cannot get out due to obvious reasons. While she sleeps during the day, I do the groceries. Nothing too special in terms of food preferences. Even though the cravings have not set out yet, I get a false impression that those might not set out so early. Pregnant in 2 weeks. "Nothing to be scared of" I thought to myself

In the times that we were having sex, she would bite my skin under the collarbone in order to not make me a vampire. The venom that is injected inflicts another level of pleasure, spicing it to a degree that no other human woman can make me feel this way.

Fast forward to a of couple months later, the cravings started to become somewhat worryingly. She prefers to have me bitten more often during sex in more places, started to eat raw meat, drink a sort of blended meat shake and the cooked meals makes her puke even when smelling it in the air. She would always miss the details when I would ask her what her origins are, what they ate, and how they survived for so long.

“Pickles.”

“Huh?”

“I want pickles.”

I blink in confusion once, twice, as my brain processes the words that came from Cameron’s mouth.

“You want.. Pickles?”

She sighs with the vaguest hint of annoyance, patience running short, “Yes, I really do! Do you have any idea just how long it’s been since I’ve had them?! Not since I turned! Can you believe it? A whole century without pickles! And now they have so many more flavors, and vegetables, and spices, and types that smell SO GOOD! Did you know they even do pickled baby corn now? I’m absolutely dying to try it. I just.. I want to eat a whole jar in one go. And drink the brine after. It sounds absolutely divine.”

I chew my lip for a moment, mulling over her desires and suggestion, “But.. don’t most have garlic in them? Isn’t that kind of an.. uh.. Issue?”

I hear a small scoff with a following bemused chuckle, “Oh garlic, shmarlick. You know that’s just a myth, right? We just have a slight intolerance to solid food since it doesn’t quite ‘replenish’ us as we need, essentially it can’t be digested as properly as it should be, especially if we’re malnourished. But this—“ she touches her growing stomach for emphasis, “—changes things a bit. Half human, half me. Blood being produced inside of me once again, exchanging with my bits of essence in a strange form of symbiotic existence. Getting touches of my immortality for a bit of their mortality—“

My brain was starting to swim. This whole situation was very much out of my depth, but I love her so I try my best to understand despite our ever-clear differences.
“So basically, since you’re pregnant with a human child, you can better fulfill human cravings and needs?”

“Half human, but yes.” She flashes me a toothy grin, patting her belly happily.
“I don’t need to drink blood right now, as you’ve probably noticed. All the blood I need is already in my system, so I’m closer to humanity than I’ve been in a very, very long time.”

She looks down as her expression turns sullen for a brief moment, some mix between melancholic and nostalgic. Within a second, however, she’s back to her usual self. “This isn’t a permanent solution, of course. And I don’t want it to be, I’m happy being me, what I am. I’ve come to accept and love myself again. But I do want to take advantage of this while it lasts, especially since I do not want to go through this again, Gods Below, this has been an absolute pain in my ass.”

She groans as she stretches back to relax, giving in to the aches and pains by letting herself be swallowed in the nest of fluffy pillows and blankets that cover our bed. I smile sympathetically and lean over to kiss her forehead, my aim going off as she swivels her head to lock her eyes on to mine, speaking quickly with commanding undertones smoothly lacing her voice.

“Now, about those pickles…”

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