#birth of the swerve

[blood-powered-radio]

The Atomic Fireballs - Man with the Hex

off the album Birth of the Swerve, 1998

This track was featured in the What’s New Scooby-Doo episode Big Scare in the Big Easy (the chase scene it featured in is linked below), and I believe was inspired by the same source that inspired Labyrinth’s Magic Dance.

[mychlapci]

Minimus taking care of the giant magnus armor baby... the armor was supposed to be a corpse he didnt know he needed robocondoms 😔

this is making me lose my mind. poor minimus having to wrangle his fucked up berserk lore baby. it gets bigger than him so fucking fast but it still clings to him bc he's basically its mommy also. he either has to wear the armour all the time or get smothered by a clingy baby.

[chelseeebe]

moth to a flame

18+. mdni. smut. king!steve x kinda alt fem!reader. mentions of alcohol and drugs throughout. no ud so steve never gets the opportunity to develop from his jackass high school self. both he and tommy are kinda mean to poor old reader but he makes up for it in the end i promise.

a/n: there's something about lil stevie at the moment.. i think it's because i neglected him for so long that now i'm overcompensating lol. more eddie is coming tho i swear<3 so in my head r is like alt though descriptions don't really go past anything vague.

‎⋆⭒˚｡⋆

steve wasn’t really ever that choosy with his women. he didn’t have to be. 

they’d throw themselves at him, from the start of high school right through to college. by some grace of god, meaning his dad and his endless wallet, he’d made it into the university of chicago. 

partying his way through his studies with a plethora of women and friends who really only saw him as an open wallet. 

that’s where he’d met you. 

you weren’t a regular, that’s for sure. 

your hair dyed, clothes torn purposely and thick, dark rings of black around your eyes. 

he hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off of you all night. watching as you’d ducked outside just after midnight, deciding to follow you, muttering something about a cigarette to tommy without a second thought. 

he’d found you around the empty side of the house smoking and stuck his tongue down your throat. 

with permission, of course. 

he’d seen you in there with the guy with the long hair, steve recognised him as someone he bought weed off occasionally. “he your boyfriend?”

relief washing over him when you’d shook your head no, “i can’t get you a discount if that’s what you’re asking.”

his shoulder had bumped against the hard brick in an attempt to nonchalantly lean against it, “noo.. i was just hoping you were single.” 

your smile grows though steve didn’t pick up on the sarcastic twang about it until after, “is that right?” 

“you don’t believe me?” 

“hmm not really,” stubbing the cigarette out on the side of the house. 

“but you are single, right?” deploying that trademark harrington grin, ever unfailing in his entire career. 

“i am.” 

“so why don’t you wanna make out with me?” reverse psychology, another never faltering technique. 

your eyes had narrowed, “i didn’t say that,” he’d known he was in from then on out, putty in his hands just the way he’d hoped. 

and thus, birthed this. whatever this is. 

-

steve waits rather impatiently for the party to die down enough to sneak out of here and get you into the back of his bmw. he hadn’t drank, swerving tommy’s attempts at getting him to drink with some vague, mumbly excuse. 

your meetings weren’t exactly tasteful, usually entailing some dark corner of the town and the leather of his backseat. 

you don’t speak outside of this, maybe a quick glance if he ever saw you outside of the parties but never anything substantial. 

but you’d gotten wise to his signals, you were usually found outside with that long-haired boy smoking which meant he had also began to get wise. 

steve would drop a cup and glance quickly in your direction or he’d loudly say his goodbyes before slipping out of the door. earning a groan or a roll of the eyes from your friend. 

steve’s grateful though, because he knows you’ll only be a few minutes behind. shuffling down the street to his beemer. 

tonight, you’d taken longer than usual. sighing as you slid into the passenger seat, steve’s gaze immediately falling to your chest, hungry as ever. 

“what’s wrong?” he asks, putting the car into drive before anyone had the opportunity to catch you. 

you shake your head, buckling in as the car speeds off, “it’s nothing,” settling yourself in the seat. 

“didn’t sound like nothing,” he’s not sure why he’s prying so much, you didn’t owe him any explanation. 

“it’s just..” debating whether to divulge, “eddie feels the need to tell me how much he hates you, every single time. it’s boring, you know?” 

oh. 

steve wasn’t quite expecting that. 

sure, he wasn’t the most likeable person ever but hate? 

“right,” he nods, unsure of where to go from here, “well.. i’m sure if he knew me, he’d think differently,” though even steve doesn’t quite believe that himself.

you hum in response, staring out at the disappearing road ahead. 

the car pulls in to it’s usual saturday night spot, overlooking the city on some disused street. quiet and calm but not for long. 

it’s the same foolproof routine every single week, you’ll sit and talk for a minute until one or the other gets fed up and pulls the other into the backseat. 

this week it takes a little longer for either of you to crack. you’re still pissed off by whatever eddie had said and he was desperate to try and break through your hardened exterior. 

he didn’t want to be hated by anyone, let alone your friends. 

perhaps it was fear. scared of eddie revealing the truth about your little rendezvous’ or maybe he really did want to know more about you. he’d been inside of you more than he’d ever asked about your day. 

steve had once thought the only people that had tattoos were freaks and criminals, but he doesn’t suppose you’re either of the two. 

he loves the way they look on your skin, adorning your arms like they were there before you were born. 

“why’d you get that one?” pointing to the flower on your wrist. 

you tut, “d’you wanna talk about my tattoos or d’you wanna have sex?” becoming annoyed with his attempts to close the bridge between you. 

“why not both?” he didn’t know a thing about you besides your name and how hard you liked his palm against your ass. maybe you really were a freak. 

“because you don’t care, not really,” shrugging at him from the passenger seat, “you don’t have to pretend y’know?”

“i’m not pretending,” steve frowns, “i wanna know about your tattoos and i wanna have sex with you, is that crazy?” 

you chuckle, turning in your seat to face him, “a little, yeah. i don’t believe that steve harrington cares about my tattoos at all.” 

fuck, he wishes this was normal, that you were normal and he could just take you out like he would any other girl. 

he doesn’t have a reply, sighing quietly to himself instead. 

your hand reaches over, cupping his chin in your palm and gently tilting it upward til he meets your eye again, “so.. sex?” 

steve nods, blinking rapidly as you shift over into his lap. if you weren’t going to indulge him then the least he could do was give you what you wanted. 

you keep your hand firmly on his chin, locking your lips as your hips move forward, grinding against his jeans, his hands coming to meet your waist. 

frantic in the way he grabs at your skin, needing you closer than his car allowed. 

what had really shocked him most about you, was the fact that your nipples were pierced. he’d never seen it before, not in real life anyway. but now he couldn’t imagine ever having another boob in his mouth that didn’t taste slightly of metal. 

he claws at your shirt, yanking it higher for access to your chest, pulling your bra down enough to reveal your tit, palming at the flesh before locking his lips around the sensitive skin. 

your skirt ends up above your waist, his hands roaming the fleshy area, grinding down against his stiff cock with an insatiable hunger. rutting until you’re moaning into the cramped car, his tongue still swirling around your nipple. 

“c’mon,” instructing him breathlessly, “need you now stevie,” your hands firm on his shoulders, praying he won’t make you wait any longer. 

he nods, letting your breast fall from his lips, gripping your waist to allow himself the space to wiggle his jeans down enough, his boxers following closely. your eyes roll at the sight of his cock springing out, already glistening with pre-cum from your incessant rutting. 

you’re already raring to go, sodden panties held to the side as he lines his tip with your soaked entrance, gazing up at you with wondrous lust. 

“fuck,” whispering harshly when you lower yourself onto him, his fingers leaving heavy marks on your hips. 

you take a moment to adjust, biting down onto your lip as your eyes reopen, meeting his before you begin moving. slow at first, thick thighs enveloping his waist. he wants to gnaw on them, leave purple markings all along the doughy skin. 

steve knows he has a big cock, he’s not stupid. it had been a thing to marvel throughout high school, in locker rooms and after hooking up with whoever. everyone had known. 

it doesn’t seem to phase you, bouncing up and down as your skin slaps together. he’s always found it hot, that two bodies could make such a sexy sound but with you it’s better. 

“that’s it,” you whine, melodically breathing in time with your body bouncing. 

your hand creeps away from his shoulder, hanging loosely around his neck, too scared to place any real pressure until he nods enthusiastically, placing a harsh hand to your ass, a clear cut green flag. 

you practically growl in response, tightening your grip on his neck, the seats of his car squeak and groan underneath your bodies as the car rocks on the wheels. 

keeping one hand on your ass and the other now nestling between your thighs, fingers perched on your soft stomach as his thumb finds your clit. 

“oh fuck,” you whine, enthusiastically moving up and down, squeezing his neck just enough to make his eyes roll back. 

steve tightens his grip on your ass, losing grip of his throat to slam your palm against the foggy window when his hips thrust upward, moving with yours in perfect harmony. 

he wants to swallow you whole, entranced by the sheer pleasure on your face, eyelashes fluttering and your lips parted to allow your melodic mewls to flow freely. 

“oh honey,” he moans, slamming into your dripping cunt. an insatiable urge to stay inside of you forever, “fucking.. shit, you feel so fucking good,” eye contact intensely heavy, dripping in pure unadulterated lust. “d-do that again,” referring to your palm around his neck. 

“you like that? hmm?” leaving steve to hold you upright, enveloping his jugular with a comfortable squeeze. 

no one had ever touched him like that, nor had he ever thought to ask anyone to touch him like that. sex had been a mostly placid affair before he met you, a couple positions if he was feeling crazy but nothing compared to the lewd shit you got up to. 

he can’t speak, his balls slapping against your thighs in a maniacal rhythm, relishing the feel of your cunt dripping down his cock onto his boxers. 

the car is stuffy, suffocating almost. the fluidity of your two bodies moving against each other only makes it worse. your skin sticks to his, chest clammy and slick. steve loves it, the messiness, the sheer animalistic need for one another. 

he grunts into the air, weaving his fingers through your untamed hair, a palm flat to your cheek as he finds your lips in a fumbling haze. 

your fingers leave his neck to trail down his chest, clawing at his shirt, desperately rutting your hips as you chase your orgasm. it all becomes sloppy when you begin to pant into his mouth, barely able to keep up the rhythm. 

“oh god,” whimpering between his parted lips, “fuck,” your thighs begin to shake, trembling uncontrollably as steve continues to thrust upwards, unrelenting though he’s teetering over the edge himself. 

your lips graze against his chin, mewling loudly while you come undone. a trembling mess, relying on his arms to keep your body upright. 

he can’t take anymore, your cunt squeezing and clenching around him, driving him completely insane. there's no way in hell that he could ever possibly imagine having sex with anyone else for the rest of his measly life.

“are you cumming?” you ask, holding onto the back of his clammy neck with a panicked look in your eye. 

steve nods quickly, using the last of his energy to thrust upwards one final time, uncaring of the consequences. or quite honestly not even considering what cumming inside of you could mean.

his hips stutter, the back of his head hitting the headrest as he grunts and groans, filthy words filling the warm car. 

he’s still inside of you when you look down, only allowing him a short moment to gather himself before you frown, “steve,” using your finger to flick his ear. 

“shit,” the threat of a child dawns on him, realising how much he shouldn’t have done that, “i’ll pay for.. whatever you need, fuck- i’m sorry,” keeping a firm hand on your waist, pleading for forgiveness. 

if you could feel what he felt, he thinks you’d understand. 

“you’re so lucky i’m on birth control.. idiot,” climbing off of him to rest on his thighs instead, readjusting your underwear as his release threatens to leak out. 

steve clears his throat, a little embarrassed to have lost all self control over your pussy. he's never been overly enthusiastic about the thought of having children but for a split second there, he had truly contemplated how bad it could be.

clearing the awkward silence with a quiet chuckle, raising his chin to meet your gaze, "sorry."

your glossy lips pout, gaze scanning his face before you hum, "you're forgiven."

-

tommy had dragged him out despite it being a tuesday night, knowing full well he’d be skipping his 9am class tomorrow. he had been really trying to make more of an effort with school lately.

you'd made a passing comment, something you'd definitely have forgotten by now but steve hadn't quite been able to shake it.

your dad's money won't last forever, you know?

it wasn't incorrect by any means, he just hadn't expected the wake up call to come from you.

obviously tommy hadn't got the memo, egging him on to ditch the books to get plastered.

the bar is packed for a weekday evening although steve recognises no one, mostly older folk with a lot of tattoos, eyeing steve’s nervous exterior. 

“get me a beer, i need a piss,” tommy hollers into his ear before disappearing off to the bathroom. ever the charming gentleman. 

steve goes stiff, wondering if he’d seen a ghost. 

you’d materialised behind the bar, looking disinterested in whatever the man in front was jabbering about. 

why are you here? 

he’s never asked what you do for work, never felt the need to. though he wishes he’d asked now. there’s no chance he can collect himself enough to speak to you. 

what if you gave it all away? what if tommy saw? oh fuck. 

steve’s never had a panic attack before but he feels mighty close now. 

he wipes his palms indiscreetly down his jeans, attempting to slow his breathing before he reaches the bar. why did tommy have to be such a jackass? they could’ve been at home tonight. he wouldn’t be having a fucking heart attack if they were. 

the person before him clears off, leaving a space for him to quietly shuffle into. you turn around, eyes locking with his but only letting the corner of your mouth twitch a tiny inch. 

your tongue clicks against your teeth, “what can i get ya?” playing along just as he’d hoped. 

“two.. uh, two uhm, coors.. please,” dropping his gaze as he pleads with god to let the world swallow him up.  

clearing your throat before getting the bottles from the fridge, sliding them across the bar with a sigh, “didn’t think this would be your scene to be honest,” stifling your laugh as the other patrons eye his sweater and too-tight jeans. 

steve gets it. 

the bar was crawling with people with piercings, ripped clothes and an overall disdain for the status quo. 

tommy fit in, he was loud and sweary just as they were but steve, he stuck out like a sore thumb. 

“it’s not.. really, tommy said it was cool.. i dunno,” he hated the fumbling mess you made him, he couldn’t ever understand it. 

you stare back at the disaster you’d created, running your tongue along your top teeth before tapping the bar, “seven bucks, please,” palm outstretched beside him. 

he shoves a ten into your hand, “keep the change,” grabbing the bottles before elbowing his way back to tommy. 

“what the hell took you so long?” 

“there was a line, dumbass,” rolling his eyes, passing off one of the bottles to his friend. 

“don’t lie,” tommy’s elbow jabs steve harshly in the ribs, “i saw you talking to that girl,” steve freezes, terrified of what tommy might say next.  “she’s hot,” tommy leers, “y’know in like a freak sorta way,” laughing obnoxiously loud for such a small bar. “you at least get her number?”

he just glares back, unsure of whether tommy knows more than he’s letting on or just being his usual ignorant self. 

“i could fuck the freak outta’ her, trust me,” the drunk continues, only serving to anger steve further. he didn’t want anyone to speak about you like that, much less tommy fucking hagan. 

“don’t say shit like that,” steve scolds, like he’s some petulant child who needs punishment. 

“what? like you care,” blowing raspberries with his mouth, “c’mon, loads of weird broads in here i can help instead,” walking off into the crowd with a mission. 

he glances over at you smiling with some customer, his stomach churning with unfathomable jealousy. he had no right to feel that way, in fact, he probably deserved it.

-

tommy’s in one of his unbearable moods again, bouncing around the party, antagonising any and every one who even attempts to get him to stop. 

steve doesn’t really care, nervously eyeing the door, confused by your absence. you hadn’t told him you were coming, but then you also hadn’t told him that you weren’t coming. 

had he done something wrong? the last time you’d spoken was when he and tommy had crashed your shift, only muttering a few nervous words about beer. he’s pathetic. you’d made him pathetic. 

an arm latches around his shoulder harshly, almost knocking the drink from his hand, “stop watching the door, she’s not coming,” tommy slurs, laughing cruelly in his face. 

“what?” steve’s body tenses, trying to shake off the drunkard. 

“your little girlfriend,” clarifying exactly what steve had thought he was saying. tommy clocks steve’s gawping mouth, his heightened breaths, “what?” chuckling loudly, “you think i don’t know? everyone fucking knows dude, you can cut the shit.”

he wriggles free from his grasp, “the fuck are you talking about?” it’s not as if playing dumb would help him now but he’d at least give it a shot. 

“fuck off man,” tommy shoves him backwards, “that’s why you’re acting like a little pussy at the moment,” spitting in his face, belligerent and arrogant, “steve fucks the weird girl and now he pretends to give a fuck about feelings and shit,” drawing the attention of the entire party. 

if it really had been that obvious, they’d all already know about it anyway. 

“you’re an asshole, you know that right?” steve fumes, shoving tommy back into the counter before grabbing the container of vodka behind, walking off into the party with his head held high. 

people eye him as he goes, sure they all knew. they’d all heard what tommy was screaming about, hell, they’d probably seen the two of you sneaking about for months. 

why did he care so? why didn’t he care more? 

-

steve’s hopeless, completely and utterly tragic. 

deserting the party after an hour of his ‘friends’ dancing around him and girls completely dodging his advances. 

he didn’t want them, not really. he just needed to fill a you shaped hole. 

the only place his intoxicated brain can conjure up to go is your house. his feet carrying him out of the door and across the large campus without much thought to it. 

it’s only when he reaches the small row of houses that he realises where he is. looking up at the quaint house he’d dropped you off at tens of times. 

he can’t go in, can’t go back to the party either. 

stuck between a rock and a hard place because no matter what, he’d come off pretty badly. 

“what’re you doing?” a girl he’s never seen before speaks from the shadows, a certain look of disgust on her features. 

steve stops his aimless pacing, realising just how weird he looked. how could he ever begin to explain himself? 

the girl i have sex with sometimes lives here and i’m here because my best friend found out about it and i don’t really know how to feel about that. 

though he opts for something a little easier to digest, “i’m just.. walking.”

the girl narrows her eyes, “i know who you are, steve harrington,” full disgust in her voice, “i don’t know if she’s home,” putting her key into the door. 

of course. the roommate you’d mentioned. robin or something like that. he’s not sure why he hadn’t thought of it. 

“can you.. can you check?” relieved to not have been the one knocking on the door. 

“well duh,” she scowls, opening the door and disappearing into the hall. 

thankfully, she doesn’t reemerge. unsure of how much he could take tonight without bursting into tears. 

you do though, peeking out of the door with a small frown, opening the door wider when you see his frame lingering. 

“steve?” confusion echoing, “what the hell are you doing here?” 

“hey,” steve waves, watching his fingers wiggle and immediately regretting it. the realisation creeping in that he was lurking around your house like a complete weirdo. 

“you’re drunk,” you state plainly, opening the door wider to reveal your heart-adorned pyjama shorts and fuzzy slippers. 

his eyes fall immediately, still desperate to suffocate himself between your thighs. 

“yup,” hiccuping through the dark. 

you sigh, you do that a lot when you’re talking to him, “jesus christ.. come in,” ushering him inside. 

he stumbles through the door, hazy eyes looking at your house, the decorations that littered the place. 

it’s so.. you. 

different and spunky, a guitar leant against the couch, banners and posters and pictures of you and your friends beaming plaster the walls. he can’t help but think about how much his mother would detest it all. wouldn’t fit her cookie-cutter world view, neither would you, really. 

is that why he liked you?

some repressed act of defiance against his mother? 

no, no he really doesn’t think so. 

“okay,” your hand finds his back, “upstairs now,” flashing a look to robin that he can’t distinguish between confusion and maybe slight fear. 

steve lets you guide him, appreciating the gentle hand, only wishing it hadn’t taken half a quart of vodka to get him here into your room. 

he flops onto the bed with a sigh, still too intoxicated to feel any real shame yet though he’s sure it’ll inevitably sneak in at some point. 

“what’re you doing?” pity addling your voice as you come to sit on the bed, desperate to not let his eyes trail down to your legs. 

“i wanted to see you,” murmuring his words, “you didn’t come tonight.. i missed you,” letting the spirit speak for him. 

you stare at him for a second, figuring out how to approach his fragile state, “didn’t think you’d want me there after the bar.” 

“why wouldn’t i?” 

you scoff, “you couldn’t even look me in the eye,” reinvigorating that twinge of guilt in his chest, “you were terrified of tommy finding out you even knew me,” you must really pity him. letting him into your house after he’d acted like you simply didn’t exist just a few weeks ago. 

“tommy knows anyway.. none of it even mattered,” steve sighs, rubbing his temple as the headache kicks in. 

“i know, steve,” offering little remorse. your eyes roll back, sighing softly, “he came by the bar a few days ago, he was drunk, trying to.. it doesn’t matter. i know he knows, i don’t really care,” shrugging as if you couldn’t understand why he did. 

maybe rather selfishly steve had assumed that you were also somewhat ashamed of this arrangement. it hadn’t occurred to him that only he felt so pathetically guilty and oddly protective over your relationship. 

he wanted you to himself and at the same time wanted absolutely no one to know about it. 

“but i care,” it sounding even worse out loud than it did in his head. 

yet he means it. he just can’t really understand why. 

your eyes lower, shifting uncomfortably on your bed as your smile grows sadder, “you don’t want anyone to know that you fuck the freak, right?” a glum, melancholic tone to your words that makes his heart ache. 

“yes- no, i don’t really know,” shoulders slumping, giving up all hope of ever understanding the things he was feeling. 

your lips purse, the mattress dipping as you stand, unwilling to give any more energy to the conversation. “why don’t you sleep it off here?” still refusing to re-meet his eye, “i’ll take the couch, alright? you just.. get some sleep,” slinking off to the door before he can protest. 

“wai-,” but you’re gone.  

left on his own in your room. 

he can’t help but think that you should be here too, the first time he’d gathered enough courage to come to your house and he’d pissed you off that badly, you had to sleep on the couch. 

all he wants is for this to be normal. to take you out like he did the other girls, show you off to his friends and be proud of it too. 

steve wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want that, but he wanted to at least tell you.

screw tommy hagan and anyone else that had anything to say about it. 

he stumbles out of your bedroom, trying to remember which way to go to reach the steep stairs. god he hopes robin isn't down there with you. they'd interacted for no more than five minutes and yet he could already sense her general distaste for him.

the floorboards creak under his weight, dragging his uncoordinated feet down until he hits the floor with a thud, missing the last few steps completely.

your head pokes out of the closed door, with what he hopes is worry on your face. "what the fuck? are you okay?" rushing over to his crumpled body. this would all be highly entertaining if he weren't in the midst of an identity crisis.

"i'm good, i'm okay," clinging onto your arm. rather than standing to get to your level, he decides that dragging you down onto the floor with him is the best way to confess. ignoring your shrieks of complaint as you land harshly on his lap.

"what are you doing?" unable to hold back the maniacal cackle any longer.

"i'm trying to tell you something," steve mumbles, pressing his forehead against yours in hopes the words would somehow telepathically absorb through your skin.

they don't, obviously. because that's not how this works.

"i think that i," he hiccups,, sliding his hand down your arm to grasp your hand, "i think i really, really like you," stammering through his half-assed confession. on further thought, he probably should've waited until morning before deciding to unleash this unto you. "and i think that i've been an asshole to you," swallowing the gargantuan lump in his throat, "and i want to- only if you want to," earnestly gazing into your eyes, his thumb tracing your soft knuckle.

"want to what, steve?"

"i want to be with you, like.. dating or- or your boyfriend," hoping that now you’d understand his stammering, incoherent words.

your face displays something he can’t place, twisting the knife in his chest completely to only ease up when your lips twitch, “i think you’re drunk,” brushing off his confession.

steve wants to scream, he’d laid himself bare for you and while he probably didn’t deserve to call you his girlfriend, he also didn’t deserve to never get the chance to ask.

“i am,” admitting to his sins, “but i mean it,” nodding his head against yours, putting your hand to his chest, “i want it, i want you.”

your lips purse, he hates it when you do that. still unable to get through that mysterious shell you’re clinging onto, leaving him to try and guess what you’re thinking. most girls were fairly obvious in the way they treated steve. either fawning over him or they’d argue until he’d hate it and ghost them.

“even if everyone knows?” slowly opening up to the idea of you two. or at least he hopes so.

“especially if everyone knows.”

it’s a stark contrast from the embarrassingly nervous wreck he was at the bar, too terrified to even look you in the eye. he’d decided that it just wasn’t him. you deserved better and steve couldn’t stand to watch anyone other than himself give you that.

“..okay,” you blink, lashes brushing against his skin as they flutter, “but i’m gonna ask you again in the morning,” narrowing your eyes, ever the voice of caution.

steve just grins, morning couldn’t come soon enough if that was all it’d take to get you to believe him.

[tweedlydumbtweedlydoo]

Interstate 40 | Tyler Owens x reader

Requested by anon / Summary: You go into labor. 

A/N: Hope you enjoy! Thanks for requesting. xx

Go follow my fic rec blog! ---> @imaginationgonewild0912

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! Warning: child birth, blood, pain !! 

You were out at the barn, filling the chickens feed and water when Tyler stormed into the barn. You’re pretty sure you saw smoke coming out of his ears, his face red. 

“What the hell are you doing?” He asks immediately taking the scoop from you, “you’re supposed to be resting! Doctor’s order!” His eyes are large as he stares at you. 

You wave him off, “Tyler come on, I’ve been doing this the entire pregnancy. Nothing new to me.” You yank the scoop back from him, “I was going stir crazy laying in bed.” 

You were 9 months pregnant, 39 weeks to be exact, ready to go into labor at any time. Your body was ready, but baby Owens had yet to say they were ready just yet. Your doctor had told you to take it easy after a fainting spell. Everything checked out, baby Owens was perfectly healthy and your doctor gave you the green light to head back home and get some rest. 

Tyler had took this very seriously, making you stay in bed, and insisted on waiting on you hand and foot. He’d only left you alone for an hour to run into town to get groceries. 

“What if something happened out here while I was gone? huh? What if you fainted and hit your head or something?” 

You sigh, seeing his point, “I’m sorry.” You frown, “but Tyler, really I was going crazy. I needed to do something.” 

“knit the baby a blanket. Something where you’re not on your feet.” He grabs your shoulders, leading you out the barn. 

“Tyler-” you groan, “you know I don’t know how to knit!” 

“Perfect time to learn then.” 

As the two of you near the porch, you get a cramp in your stomach. It wasn’t too strong, but you noticed it. “ooh.” You clinch your eyes shut, placing a hand on your stomach, and bending over slightly.

“What? Oh god, is it time? See I told you-” 

“Tyler, chill.” You take a deep breath, the pain easing. “I’m sure it’s just Braxton hicks. I’m fine. I’ve been having them every little while.” 

“are they consistent?” 

You shrug, “I honestly don’t know. I haven’t paid too much attention. That’s the first one that's been more intense.” You start up the stairs of the porch. 

“You could be in labor.” Tyler says following you, “We probably need to head to the hospital.” 

“I promise I am not. We’ll know for sure when it's time.” You sigh, taking a seat on the rocking chair. 

“You’ll let me know if they get worse right? You know the nearest hospital is an hour away.” He warns. “You have to let me know in time. I am not delivering our baby on the side of the highway.” 

~ 

“You told me they were Braxton hicks!” He argues. He’s currently speeding down the interstate, swerving in and out of traffic. People are honking left and right. 

You let out a scream, hand gripping his shirt in one hand and the other on the grab handle. 

Tyler screams with you, in full blown panic mode. You were still 45 minutes away from the nearest hospital. Your water had broke a little bit ago and soon after that the contractions began to get more and more intense, and closer in time. Your labor was progressing fast. 

You’re doing your lamaze breathing, trying to stay calm, “I’ve never been in labor before, how was I supposed to know I was actually in labor?!” 

You groan as another wave of a contraction hits, “Tyler something-” You reach down to feel, bringing your hand back up, fingers covered in blood. “S-Something is wrong.” 

Tyler glances at your hand, his heart drops, face going pale. if something happens to you.. or the baby. He’d never forgive himself. He shouldn’t have left. He should have forced you to go to the hospital earlier. His foot goes heavy on the gas, engine revving loudly. 

A new feeling shows itself, “I feel like I need to shit-” Your eyes are wide, staring at Tyler. “Tyler- oh fuck I’m about to have this baby on the side of the god damn interstate, aren’t I?” 

“Don’t panic-” He knew enough from hearing stories to know what that meant. That was the key indicator baby was coming and it was coming NOW. “but yes.” 

“oh my god!” 

He’s immediately pulling the truck to the side, horns blaring as he cuts someone off. He comes to a skidding stop, jumping out of the truck. He’s throwing the door open on your side in a split second. Now it’s him who is calm. He’s rolling up his sleeves, pulling out his phone to call 911. He’s delivered a calf before. Same thing right? 

“I am NOT having this baby in your truck!” Your panicked eyes find his calm ones, shaking your head. “I can wait until the hospital.”

“You have no choice.” He helps you slide out of your pants in the seat, simultaneously telling the 911 dispatcher what’s going on, your location and gathering supplies he needs. Where did this calm, collected Tyler come from? He was panicking only 30 seconds ago. 

You scream, a searing pain felt down below. 

Tyler peeks and sees a head full of hair, his eyes widen, “you definitely can’t wait. baby is coming now. push baby-” 

It only took one push before Tyler caught the baby, laying her on your chest and drying her off with a towel. “it’s a girl!”

Emotions are running high. Tears are being shed. You’d just given birth, Tyler delivering your daughter. Your heart drops; she’s quiet on your chest, “Why isn’t she crying?”

“Come on baby girl-” He finally stimulates her enough and she lets out a loud cry. It triggers more tears from both you and Tyler. A sigh of relief. 

Tyler’s kissing you through the tears, “You did so great baby.” A proud smile on his lips as he stares at his two girls. He cups your face in his hands, “That was fucking amazing.” 

~

The EMS showed up not long after, checking over you and the baby. Both healthy. They get you on the stretcher, your baby girl wrapped in a blanket in your arms. As the emotions of your baby being earth side, the reality hits you. You gasp, “Tyler.” You cover your mouth in shock. 

“Hmm?” He hums, looking up from your daughter. 

“I just gave birth to our daughter in your truck on the side of the interstate.”  

He chuckles, “Yeah you did. That was more bad ass than getting caught in the middle of a tornado.” 

~ 

Don’t know how I feel about this one. I had a whole vision but writing it out proved to be difficult. 

Comments, likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated! 

[sweet7simple]

Mech Pregnancy and Protoform Development of Gestating Sparklings

Here is what I have compiled on Cybertronian "reproduction" from More Than Meets the Eye, specifically the Holiday Special and Volume 5:

Holiday Special:

So this would be the protoform development for a forged sparkling and it lends support to that, if Cybertronians gave birth to their own Sparklings, then they would likely be an egg-like form (yes, I know it's not actually a sparkling, but can we all agree that Swerve is strangely well-informed on protoform development for forged Cybertronians?)

So what would slide out from the gestation tank has no discernable features yet and still needs hours if not days before the protoform resembles an adult Cybertronian, but I still don't have an answer for the size of this thing - at what point does it reach its full size? Cybertronians before the war went to academies, so what point does the protoform receive an education instead of having relevant information jammed into its brain module right before deployment like a MTO cold construct?

(More under cut)

But, let's be honest, I am going out of order here. Let's go to Volume 5 where we encounter a hot spot of re-ignited sparks on the moon:

So this is being constructed cold.

And this is forged - as well as the official story for how cold constructed bots were made, which apparently differs from the truth. Here is the truth for how cold constructed sparks were actually formed:

So all cold constructs were made from the matrix - but what if they did come from igniting healthy sparks to make new ones?

What if you used the energy of two sparks to create an entirely new one and that sparkling attached itself to a parent spark for some time before it dropped to a gestation tank (this is common in fanfiction and I love it so much, it makes the most sense)? As these two orbs of immense power and life resonate with one another, creating waves of energy that can be interpreted as pleasurable for the interfacing bots, excess energy could gather itself into a separate orb that borrows the life code from both parents, becomes randomized, and this creates a new life code for a separate entity. It stays in the spark chamber for a period of time - I don't know, decoding or storing energy or something, I am very bad with electronics - before dropping down to an artificial gestation tank.

And this is where the valve/plug comes into play if you so desire because now we have the issue of, where is the spark going to go? It needs a protoform. It needs the materials to make a protoform. It also needs liquids.

Cybertronians seem to live off energon and anything you can make from energon, but there have been references and images in the comics of Cybertronians have oil as a waste product, so they need a separate compartment for oil away from their energon tank and they also are said to have (in fanfiction, at least): oral solvents, lubricant, transfluid, optic fluid, etc... All those will require their own compartments and they will all have either been diluted from the energon or will have an origin in a separate liquid that isn't mentioned. Let's keep in mind that they will also need some sort of oil for their hinges and their nanites for upkeep.

So I believe these gestation tanks are where the Sparklings develop their egg-like protoform with all these liquids that they themselves can't make yet, and I think they get what they need from nanite colonies as there is no umbilical cord (not unless you want the bots to have belly buttons). I like to think of them as nannyites - nanites that, once a protoform hits the gestation tank, have latent codes that becomes active and now have protoform-related tasks versus whatever tasks they did beforehand. The nannyites will likely take these resources from the carrying parent, everything from fluids to energon stores to living metal that the nannyites will adapt or make compatible for the sparkling.

So this carrying parent suddenly has fewer nanites colonies themselves, a thinner layer of living metal, and depleted storages of fluids.

Hear me out, hear me out: Valveplug interfacing helps the carrying parent because transfluid will contain necessary materials for the protoform.

I am going to take it a step further and say that it is that first shot of transfluid into the gestation tank during spark and valveplug interfacing creates input that electronically signals to the receiving parent to gather the excess energy from the spark play via centripetal force like a satellite and that force signals the excess energy to turn on life codes it recycled from both parents and create its own life code. That transfluid inside of the gestation tank also turns on those latent codes for the nannyites to get the compartment prepared. It's that first dose of necessary materials and every dose of transfluid after that is stored in the gestation tank for the protoform.

Which brings me to the idea that I have seen on AO3 where bots go into heat:

What if a mech goes into heat as a way to store transfluid from their partner?

I am largely talking out of my ass here because I don't know anything about how machines work, but I know there are a lot of hormones and signals and work that goes into human pregnancy.

The downside of this is that, if all bots were once forged and now they are, let's say, "birthed", then these constructs would be artificial: the gestation tank and the fertile centripetal force with its satellite sparkling and the interface array with its gestational passage and the nannyites and the transfluid. These would have to be constructed cold and surgically added, and you would have to create codes that turn on these cascading or stacking protocols (I don't know the correct computer term for when one event triggers another event triggers another event and so on) and you would have to manufacture filters and tanks and lines for the creation of gestational lubricant and transfluid.

This is just me rambling because I can't stop thinking about all this, but I am not ready to write a mechpreg story.

Please talk to me about Cybertronian reproduction, I am not normal about this.

[kmuradesu]

Car baby

DadHusband!SimonRiley x PregnantWife!Reader (afab)

Summary: A couple days after your due date, your water broke but you persisted to stay at home while you had the opportunity to - even though Simon hated the idea. And because of that, you are now having the baby. On the way to the hospital.

———————

word count: around 1.2k

cw: pregnancy, depictions of intense pain - a little blood, bad language, dangerous driving, car birth.

———————

sorry if they’re spelling mistakes, i didn’t go through it properly properly. kinda lost it at the end, but enjoy !

“Hold on— bloody hell, woman.”

One minute you were trying to rest on the settee with a warm tea in your grasp. And the next, you were hunched over mumbling in pain. The tea had jolted from your hand and split over the carpet.

“..fuuck!” Your voice a sharp groan as his arms quickly found way under your own.

“We should’ve gone to the hospital..” No, he wasn’t scolding you but Simon was a little irritated at the fact your persistence had come to this. In labour in your own home, which wasn’t that ideal.

A wavering whimper left your lips, your fingers curling tightly into his muscle as he gently lifted your pregnant body up.

“Lovie, s’alright just hold onto me. And breathe.”

“Isn’t breathing what I’m doing?!”

“Not exactly, more like whinin’ your guts out.”

The burly man took most of your weight, leading you quickly to the car that sat outside on the drive with duffel bags already stocked for the trip. But it shocked you to think it was all happening now.

Simon didn’t even think to put a towel down before seating you in the car, but everything was going on at a rapid pace he had forgotten.

Once you were sat he did the seatbelt for you before closing the door and rushing to the driver’s side.

“We’ll get to the hospital. All will be fine ‘oney.”

As if he wasn’t shitting his pants right there and then.

Getting in the car, it didn’t take long for you to be pushed back into your seat by an invisible force. It kinda took the breath out of you.

But so was the baby that was literally about to pop out.

“Shit— I know we’re in a rush-” Your voice strained, followed by your brows knitting together. “But slow down!”

Of course Simon didn’t listen. However he did look back and forth at your rounded stomach quite a couple of times. The last thing you would’ve wanted right now was to be caught in an accident.

A harsher surge of pain had swept through your back and lower stomach all the way to the disc of your spine, causing you to choke on a loose sob as your hand took a vice-like grip on Simon’s arm. He cursed something under your moans.

He focused on trying to get there safely, but on a condition that he could cut down on minutes.

As cars swerved out of the way of your oncoming vehicle, which was not going to stop, you held onto him for dear life. Pretty sure there’s bound to be a bruise on his bicep after this.

“Simon, I think I’m bleeding!”

Your cry of words is what snapped 3 quarters of his attention to you. The poor man’s head was on a swivel, returning between both you and the road.

He stuck his hand out and placed it on your bare thigh.

“Hell- is that normal?!”

“I don’t think so!” Your pained moans were swapped with pained cries.

It was making Simon feel sick. Not because you were bleeding, no, but because of the immense pain you were feeling and not being able to do a thing about it apart from reassure you.

A soft hand of yours snaked down below your pants.

Touch.

Take out.

Red. A lot of red.

God the sight could’ve made both you and Simon faint.

“Christ.” A mutter under his cold breath.

He rubbed his toughened hand up and down your thigh, adding pressure as he steered with the other.

“Don’t worry love, we’re pulling over..”

————

Your cries of agony were deafening over the hushed woman’s voice of an ambulance emergency operator. It was almost embarrassing, but fairs to you, a newborn was making itself known.

Simon was on your side out of the car, listening to what the woman was telling him to do.

‘Have you got towels?’

“Uh yes, in the back.”

‘Use those for the baby when it’s out.’

“..alright.”

‘Is this her first?’

“Yes—”

Another one of your screams. But it seemed to have supported her next instruction.

‘When you are pushing honey, you need to push for 6 seconds, then take a 10 second breather okay?’

“..okay.” The word wobbled from your lips.

Simon took your hand and placed another on your bent knee. Props to you, you were doing this without a damn epidural.

There was blood literally everywhere, all down your thighs and hands, even on Simon. But he really couldn’t care less.

Your grip tightened as you pushed, feeling the sharp tense radiate through your core as you felt tension building up.

“..keep pushing love.” Simon grunted uneasily, wincing a little at the deathly grip of your hand interlocked with his. “Fuck that’s hard—”

‘Breathe 10 seconds..’

‘Then push again.’

God, you were pushing and pushing. If only tough Simon could experience this, my, would it be brilliant.

As you pushed you felt the tight head of the baby force itself out, followed by a sense of relief and loose pressure.

“The heads out!..” Simon said in quite excited tone, pulling a wonky confused face from you. But it was nice to see Simon show such enthusiasm.

‘Good. Just keep pushing mama, the baby’ll be out in no time.’

All that was coming out of your mouth was just endless cries of pain and weakened mumbles of suffering. It was making Simon feel ill again.

“..jesus— the shoulders on this thing—ah!”

..‘this thing’ was the baby.

“Just the shoulders.. and the baby will be out. Alright lovie?” He kissed you on the head.

You gave a loose nod, hair sticking to your forehead with sweat, and tears staining your peachy cheeks that were washed away with Simon’s thumb.

He then got towels, as the operator had told him to, ready to catch the baby when it slips out. You couldn’t help but feel a little violated of your space, but the man’s seen it all before sooo.

You pushed, along with the woman’s voice through the phone on the dashboard and Simon’s little but effective encouragement. Christ, the tension was too powerful, were you tearing or something?

But it wasn’t too long, before it felt like you had been emptied from the inside out. The relief.

“It’s out— the baby’s out!” Simon called, a small smile plastered along his face. That was something you almost never saw in a while. Sarcasm by the way.

‘Put it bare on the mother’s chest, pat its back until you hear a cry.’

He did as he was told and used the towel to gently place the baby on the unclothed part of your chest, his brows furrowing a little at the fact that for it to be alive, it needed to cry.

Your shaky hand was a bit late to lightly pat the newborn, Simon was already getting to it, but you felt so weak at the moment it was almost unbearable.

“Breathe baby. Breathe.”

The man whispered.

To you or the baby?

The silence was awfully mute, a high pitched ringing the only thing loud in your ears apart from Simon’s bated breath.

A cry.

The breaths everyone had been holding were blown as the baby announced itself to the three of you. Simon dryly chuckled. You swear you heard the operator chuckle too.

‘Congratulations Mum and Dad. Is it a boy or a girl?’

Simon’s eyes laid softly on you with your newborn, a hand on his child, and the other on your meaty thigh.

“A girl.” He said with a small smirk, kissing you again on the forehead as you looked dazed.

‘How’s the Mum?’ Worn out. Exhausted. Little light-headed. Icky. Nauseated.

“..I’m fine. I think.”

You thought it was better just to act.. okay. Although to Simon, it was obvious that you needed space, and possible to be checked over my doctors. Your bronzed gaze looked down at the pair of lidded eyes on your chest.

‘That’s good. The ambulance is nearly there to take you all to the hospital, for them to take a look at you and the baby.’

A tired sigh left your lips, your eyes heavy as your hand rested on the wailing newborn.

“..you did bloody brilliant.” The man reassured, his hand brushing away sticky strands of hair from your forehead.

Your look returned to him, searching for something in his eyes before he pecked your lips with a small kiss.

Damn. You just had a baby.

[bumpolantern]

Roadside Surprise

Pairing: Maxwell Lord (Wonder Woman 1984, 2020) x original female character (Poppy)

Summary: It's 1985, and Max Lord finds himself driving his very pregnant wife to the hospital.

Warnings: MDNI. 18+. Very graphic and sexual birth. This is a fic for a very specific kink space. If this is not your thing, please scroll away.

Word count:  7,371 words

Author's note: This story is commissioned by someone who wishes to stay anonymous. 🙏🏻 Thank you so much for trusting me with this story 💜 I’m actually trying to raise funds to get myself a new laptop, so any donation amount is very much appreciated, if you'd also be interested in commissioning a story, my commissions are currently OPEN. Check out my commission's page here.

Divider credit @strangergraphics ❤🙏🏻

The air inside the car felt stifling as Max’s foot pressed down on the accelerator, the tension between him and Poppy thick and overwhelming. It wasn’t just the anxiety of the impending birth—it was the way the city around them seemed to grind to a halt, as if the world had chosen this exact moment to throw them into a slow, unrelenting standstill.

Poppy, in the passenger seat of the luxury sedan was not in the mood to appreciate the car’s smooth ride or plush leather seats. Her designer maternity dress clung to her swollen belly, the deep emerald fabric stretching as her body tensed under another contraction. She panted, her hands gripping the armrest and the edge of the seat, her face flushed with frustration and pain.

“Max, faster,” she hissed through clenched teeth, her voice sharp, her eyes narrowing as she glanced at the dashboard. “We are not going to make it if you don’t get me off this damn road.”

“I’m trying, sweetheart,” Max muttered, his own panic barely contained. He swerved around a slow-moving car, but the street ahead was clogged, the lights turning red in frustrating succession. He could feel the sweat trickling down his back, soaking the collar of his shirt as his fingers tightened on the steering wheel.

“You’re trying?” Poppy’s tone was biting, her breath coming in shallow bursts. “Try harder, Max! You—oh God—these fucking contractions… it’s coming too fast!” Her hand shot to her belly, her nails digging into the fabric of her dress as another wave of pain hit her. “I’m not having this baby in your car!”

Max’s pulse quickened as he glanced at her, then back at the nearly motionless line of cars ahead. The sun was sinking low in the sky, casting long shadows across the road, the last traces of light glinting off the chrome of nearby vehicles. It was almost dusk, and the city’s usual hum was replaced by a strangely eerie quiet, broken only by the soft growl of engines and the occasional honk. But the traffic wasn’t moving.

“Just hang on, sweetheart…” he stammered, panic rising in his chest as he scanned the road for any way out. The hospital was still miles away, and her contractions were coming too close together now. “We need to get off this road.”

“Then do it!” she snapped, her breath ragged. “Goddammit, Max, I don’t need you to tell me what I already know. I need you to move!”

Max’s eyes darted to the side streets, his mind racing. An empty side road appeared just ahead, a narrow street that cut through the quieter, less populated part of the city. It wasn’t ideal, but it was their only option.

Without hesitation, he yanked the wheel, veering off the main road and onto the narrow lane. The Mercedes bumped slightly as it hit the uneven pavement, but the road was blissfully empty. Not a car in sight, just the long stretch of asphalt leading out toward the more isolated parts of town.

“Thank God,” Poppy groaned, her head falling back against the seat as she struggled to catch her breath between contractions. “Finally… some fucking space. Max—" she gasped, her voice trembling as she gripped her belly again, “I don’t think we have much time. It’s coming too fast.”

Max’s heart thudded in his chest, panic clawing at him as he glanced at her, then back at the road. “Just hold on, Poppy. We’re almost there. Just breathe—”

“Don’t you dare tell me to breathe,” she growled, her face twisted in pain. “You think I don’t know how to fucking breathe through contractions? It’s not helping, Max!”

Max winced but said nothing, his hands trembling as he gripped the wheel tighter. The sun had almost completely set now, the road ahead dimming into a dusky twilight. His mind was racing, desperate for a solution. He needed to do something—anything—to help her.

His gaze flickered to the rearview mirror, and for a fleeting moment, an old, familiar thought crossed his mind. The Dream Stone. If only he still had it, he could wish this all away—wish Poppy’s pain away, wish the baby out of her without all the agony and fear. He clenched his jaw, frustration bubbling up inside him. The stone was gone, destroyed. And all he could do now was be there for her, helpless.

Poppy’s voice broke through his thoughts. “Max… oh God, I think my water’s about to break.” Her voice trembled with panic and anger as she clutched her belly, her body tensing with another violent contraction. “Fuck, there’s so much pressure… I can feel it...”

Max’s pulse spiked as he glanced over at her, fear and adrenaline surging through him. “Just hold on, Poppy. I’m pulling over.”

He slammed on the brakes, swerving the car to a stop on the empty side of the road, gravel crunching beneath the tires. The car jerked slightly as it came to a halt, and Max quickly shifted into park, his breath coming in short, shallow bursts. He turned to Poppy, his hands shaking as he reached out to her.

“Okay, we’re off the road. What now?” he asked, his voice tight with panic.

Poppy groaned, her eyes squeezing shut as another contraction rolled through her. “What now?” she echoed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Now, you help me. Get your ass over here, Max.”

Max scrambled out of the driver’s seat, his heart racing as he rushed to her side. The road around them was eerily silent, the fading light casting long shadows across the deserted landscape. There wasn’t another car in sight, just the two of them, alone in the growing dusk.

Max rushed around to the passenger side, his fingers fumbling as he yanked the door open. The inside of the car felt even hotter now, the air thick with the mingling scents of sweat, tension, and Poppy’s laboring body. Her designer maternity dress, now damp with sweat, clung tightly to her skin, and her face twisted in agony as another contraction ripped through her.

She barely spared him a glance, too consumed by the intensity of her labor to acknowledge his frantic movements. “I told you… it’s coming too fast,” she growled through gritted teeth, her hands gripping the seat beneath her as her body rocked with the force of the next contraction.

Max knelt beside her, his heart pounding in his chest as he tried to think of anything he could do to help. He wasn’t a doctor, wasn’t trained for this, but there was no time to second-guess himself now. The baby wasn’t waiting for anyone, least of all him.

Poppy let out a sharp, guttural groan, her breath catching in her throat. Then, suddenly, she gasped, eyes widening. “Max… I think my water—oh God, it’s going to—”

Before she could finish, a sudden gush of fluid spilled out, soaking the seat beneath her. Poppy’s breath hitched, her body trembling in momentary relief as the pressure of the contractions eased, the tightness loosening just slightly.

But the relief was brief. Poppy’s expression shifted, her eyes squeezing shut as she tensed again. “Oh fuck… Max, I feel it… the baby—it’s moving down,” she gasped, her voice tight with both fear and exertion.

Max’s pulse quickened as he positioned himself beside her. The dim light from the open car door cast long shadows across her body, but he could see her belly tightening again as another contraction rolled through her.

He glanced down between her legs, the designer fabric of her dress hiked up around her hips. The bulging pressure was visible now, her swollen lips parting slightly, the baby pushing down just behind them, causing her to stretch. The sight was intense, primal—and, to Max, it was achingly erotic. His throat tightened as he watched, the mix of fear and desire overwhelming as he saw her body respond to the pressure.

Poppy’s hand shot to her belly, her fingers trembling as she gripped herself through the dress. “Oh fuck—Max, I can feel it right there,” she groaned, her voice cracking.

Max tore his gaze away from her body, his heart thudding in his chest as he moved to help her. He leaned over, his hands trembling slightly as he positioned her carefully. “Here, let me help you, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

With a firm but gentle grip, he guided her to shift, helping her turn toward the open door. Poppy groaned as she moved, her body trembling with the effort. Max lifted her leg carefully, placing one foot up on the dash while the other rested over his shoulder, opening her up wide in the cramped space of the car.

Poppy’s breath came in short gasps, her body trembling as the baby’s head pressed lower, causing her lips to bulge even more. The tension between them was palpable, her need overwhelming, and Max’s hands shook as he reached out to steady her.

Max’s breath caught in his throat as he watched her body respond to the pressure, his eyes drawn to the way her swollen lips parted, bulging with the baby pushing down behind them. He shouldn’t be thinking about it like this—shouldn’t be turned on by the sight of his wife laboring—but he couldn’t help it. The rawness of it, the way her body moved, stretched, and trembled under the strain—it was driving him wild.

His hands shook as he palmed himself through his pants, his cock already straining painfully against the fabric. The urge to touch himself was overwhelming, but he fought to stay focused on Poppy, on helping her through this. Yet his hand betrayed him, pressing harder against his erection, trying to alleviate the pressure building inside him.

Poppy’s eyes flew open, her gaze locking onto him, and despite the agony coursing through her body, a slow, knowing smile curved her lips. “Max,” she groaned, her voice low and throaty, a mix of pain and desire. “Are you… are you seriously getting off on this?”

Max’s heart stuttered, his face flushing as he glanced away, ashamed of how turned on he was. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, his hand still pressed against his pants, unable to pull away. “I can’t help it—you’re just… fuck, Poppy, you’re so beautiful.”

Poppy’s smile widened, her breath hitching as another contraction rolled through her, but the heat in her eyes remained. “Don’t be sorry,” she purred, her voice thick with lust, even as her body trembled with the effort of pushing. “You like seeing me like this, don’t you? So spread open, so fucking raw…”

Max groaned, his hand pressing harder against his cock as he watched her, mesmerized by the sight of her body stretched wide, her swollen lips bulging as the baby moved lower. “Yes,” he breathed, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Fuck, Poppy… you have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

Poppy’s laugh was dark, almost a growl as her head fell back against the seat, her leg trembling on his shoulder. “Oh, I know exactly what I’m doing to you,” she gasped, her hips rocking slightly as she bore down again, her body stretching even more around the baby’s head. “Look at you… getting hard while your wife is pushing out your fucking kid.”

Max whimpered, his cock throbbing painfully in his pants as her words sent another wave of heat through him. He couldn’t help it—couldn’t stop himself from palming his erection, even as he watched her body strain and tremble under the force of her labor.

“Don’t stop,” Poppy moaned, her voice thick with lust as she reached down between her legs, her fingers brushing over her swollen clit. “Touch yourself, Max. I want to see you lose it while I push this baby out.”

Max’s breath hitched, his hand trembling as he unzipped his pants, freeing his aching cock. He groaned softly as his hand wrapped around himself, his eyes locked on Poppy’s body as she moaned and writhed, her lips bulging even more with the baby’s head pressing down behind them.

“You like this, don’t you?” Poppy whispered, her voice shaking as she rubbed her clit in slow, firm circles. “You like watching me struggle… watching me push… fuck, Max, it’s so close… I can feel it.”

Max’s heart pounded, his hand moving faster on his cock as he watched her, completely lost in the sight of her body stretched wide, trembling with the effort of bringing their child into the world. “I’m going to cum, Poppy,” he gasped, his voice ragged with need. “Fuck… I can’t hold it.”

“Good,” Poppy moaned, her hips jerking as she rubbed herself harder. “Cum for me, Max. Cum while I push your baby out.”

Max let out a broken groan, his entire body trembling as he stroked himself faster, his eyes locked on Poppy’s swollen, bulging lips as the baby moved closer to crowning. The raw intensity of it, the primal connection between them—it was too much.

With a final, guttural moan, Max’s body shuddered as he came hard, his cock pulsing in his hand as his release tore through him. His breath came in short, sharp gasps as he watched Poppy, still trembling, still writhing as she bore down again, the baby’s head pressing lower.

Max’s breath hitched as his release overwhelmed him, his hand trembling as he stroked himself through the last waves of pleasure. His gaze remained fixed on Poppy’s bulging, swollen pussy, the baby pushing closer to crowning as her lips stretched wide. As he came, thick ropes of his cum shot from his throbbing cock, coating her already soaked pussy, slicking over the bulging lips with an obscene wetness that only heightened the intensity of the moment.

“Fuck, Max,” Poppy gasped, her voice low and throaty as she felt the hot, thick fluid splatter against her skin. Her hips jerked slightly, the sensation sending shivers through her overstretched body. “Look at you… making a mess while I’m trying to push this baby out.”

Max’s heart pounded, his eyes wide as he watched his cum drip down her pussy, mingling with her birth fluids as her body trembled with another contraction. The sight was primal, raw, and so incredibly erotic that he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

Poppy let out a sharp gasp, her hand flying to her clit as another contraction rocked through her, but her movements were shaky, her body too exhausted to keep up the rhythm. “Max,” she growled, her voice thick with both pain and desire. “Help me. I need you to rub my clit. Now.”

Max blinked, his mind snapping back to the present as he quickly leaned in, his hands still trembling from the intensity of his own release. “Yes, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice low as he shifted closer, his fingers slipping between her slick, cum-coated lips. He pressed down on her swollen clit, rubbing in firm, quick circles, just the way she liked it.

Poppy let out a guttural moan, her head falling back as she arched her back, her body trembling beneath his touch. “Yes, Max… like that… don’t stop.”

Max’s other hand slid up to her breast, squeezing her leaking nipple through the soaked fabric of her dress. The milk squirted out in response, soaking his fingers as he pressed his thumb over her nipple, massaging the engorged flesh with care.

Poppy’s breath hitched again, her body writhing as the sensations overwhelmed her. “Suck them, Max,” she gasped, her hips jerking against his hand. “Suck my tits while I push.”

Max groaned, the primal command sending another wave of heat through him. He shifted, carefully positioning himself so he could lean in between her legs. His fingers kept their relentless rhythm on her clit, but he slotted his body closer, his mouth latching onto her leaking breast. He sucked hungrily, the warm milk squirting against his tongue as he moaned into her skin.

Poppy’s entire body trembled violently, her hips jerking as she bore down again, her swollen pussy bulging even more with the pressure of the baby pushing down. The sensation of Max’s mouth on her breast, his fingers rubbing her clit, combined with the intense pressure inside her was almost too much to bear.

“Fuck, Max!” she screamed, her voice ragged as she pushed harder, her body convulsing with the effort. “I’m gonna come… oh God, I’m gonna come while I push this baby out…”

Max groaned, his mouth still latched onto her breast as he sucked greedily, his fingers moving faster against her clit. He could feel her body trembling beneath him, the way her pussy stretched and bulged, the slick wetness of his cum and her birth fluids coating his hand as she pushed.

Poppy let out a guttural moan, her hips bucking wildly as she reached the edge. “Don’t stop, Max… I’m so fucking close… keep rubbing… harder…”

Max’s heart pounded in his chest as he pressed his fingers harder against her clit, his other hand squeezing her breast as he sucked harder. His entire body ached with need, his arousal rekindling as he watched her writhe and moan, her body caught between the brutal intensity of labor and the raw pleasure of his touch.

Poppy’s entire body tensed, her back arching as she let out a scream, her orgasm crashing over her in powerful waves. Her pussy clenched hard around the baby’s head, the bulging lips trembling as the pressure inside her built to an unbearable level.

At that moment, a gush of birth fluids squirted from her, soaking Max’s hand as the baby’s head moved even lower, pressing against her overstretched lips. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pain, pleasure, and the unstoppable force of life pushing through her.

Max groaned against her breast, his cock hardening again as he felt the rush of fluids and the way her body trembled beneath him. “Fuck, Poppy… you’re incredible,” he gasped, his voice thick with awe and desire as he pressed his fingers even harder against her clit. “You’re going to push our baby out… and cum at the same time.”

Poppy’s breath came in short, ragged bursts, her body shaking violently as she bore down once more, her orgasm still rippling through her as the baby’s head pressed even lower. “I’m doing it, Max… fuck, I’m doing it…”

Max sucked harder on her breast, his fingers relentless on her clit as he felt her body respond, pushing the baby closer and closer with each wave of pleasure. The sight of her, so raw and powerful, pushing their child into the world while her body convulsed with pleasure—it was the most erotic thing he had ever experienced.

Poppy’s body trembled violently, her back arching off the seat as another brutal contraction tore through her. Max could feel her pussy tightening even more around the baby’s head, the pressure building to an almost unbearable degree. His fingers pressed harder against her clit, moving in tight, desperate circles as he sucked greedily at her leaking breast, the taste of her milk flooding his mouth.

“Max… Max, it’s coming… I can feel it,” Poppy gasped, her voice breaking as her hips bucked against his hand. Her entire body shook with the effort, her legs trembling as she pushed with everything she had.

Max groaned, the raw intensity of the moment sending shivers down his spine. “You’re almost there, Poppy,” he murmured against her skin, his voice thick with desire and awe. “Just a little more, sweetheart. You’re incredible… so fucking strong…”

Poppy let out a guttural moan, her breath coming in short, ragged bursts as she bore down again. “Fuck… fuck, I can feel it… oh God, Max, it’s so close…”

And then it happened.

With a sudden, violent gush, the baby’s head shot out, fluids squirting over Max’s hands, soaking both of them in a warm rush. Poppy’s belly shrank slightly as the pressure eased, but the sensation of the huge baby’s head stretching her open was undeniable. The sheer size of it made her groan, her body trembling as more fluid gushed out, pooling beneath her on the leather seat.

“Oh God, Max,” she whimpered, her voice shaking with a mix of pain and lingering arousal. “It’s so big… it’s so fucking big…”

Max’s heart pounded as he looked down, his hands trembling as he cradled the baby’s head. The sight of her swollen pussy stretched wide around the enormous head, the fluids dripping down her thighs, had his cock throbbing painfully again. “You’re doing it, Poppy,” he whispered, his voice thick with awe. “The head’s out… fuck, you’re amazing.”

Poppy’s breath hitched, her body still trembling with the aftershocks of her orgasm. Her hips bucked slightly, her swollen lips stretched wide around the baby’s head, and she let out a sharp cry as the pressure inside her shifted again.

“I need… I need to push more,” she groaned, her voice low and ragged. “Oh God, Max, I can feel the shoulders… they’re huge…”

Max whimpered, his eyes glued to the sight of her body as it strained to push their child into the world. His fingers still pressed against her clit, rubbing in slow, firm circles, but the wet, slick sound of fluids squelching around the baby’s head only heightened the intensity of the moment.

“Push, Poppy,” he murmured, his voice shaking as he pressed a kiss to her leaking breast. “You’ve got this… just a little more, sweetheart.”

Poppy let out a deep, guttural groan, her body arching again as she bore down, her hips bucking against his hand. The sheer size of the baby’s shoulders stretching her was overwhelming, her lips bulging even more as she pushed harder.

“Oh fuck… Max… it’s so big… I can feel it stretching me,” she gasped, her voice trembling as she whimpered through the pressure.

Max groaned in response, his cock still exposed, throbbing heavily as he watched her body stretch wide, the fluids gushing around the baby’s shoulders as Poppy’s belly shrank more. His hand absentmindedly stroked himself, slick with the birth fluids that coated them both. “You’re so fucking incredible,” he whispered, his voice thick with desire. “I can see it… you’re almost there, Poppy. Just keep pushing.”

Poppy’s hands shot up to grip the sides of the seat, her knuckles white as she bore down with everything she had. Her breath came in sharp, uneven gasps, her face twisted in a mix of pain and pleasure as she pushed harder.

“Fuck… fuck, Max… it’s coming,” she whimpered, her voice barely more than a breathless moan. “I can feel it… oh God, it’s so big…”

Max groaned, his eyes locked on the sight of her swollen, bulging lips as the baby’s shoulders pushed through, her body trembling violently with each effort. The fluids continued to squirt and gush, soaking his hands as he cradled the baby’s head, the wet sound of her pushing filling the small space of the car.

“You’re almost there, sweetheart,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with both awe and arousal. “Just a little more… push for me, Poppy.”

Poppy let out a deep, guttural moan, her entire body shaking as she bore down again, her hips jerking violently as the baby’s massive shoulders began to slide free. “Max… oh God… I’m gonna—fuck, I’m gonna cum again…”

Max whimpered, his own body trembling with need as he pressed his fingers harder against her clit, rubbing in tight, desperate circles. “Cum for me, Poppy,” he murmured, his voice barely more than a breathless moan. “Cum while you push out our baby.”

Poppy’s entire body tensed, her back arching as another orgasm ripped through her. Her hips bucked violently, her pussy clenching hard around the baby’s shoulders as she let out a guttural scream, her body convulsing with the force of her release.

At the same moment, the baby’s shoulders slid free with a wet, audible squelch, more fluids gushing out around them as Poppy’s belly shrank even more. The massive baby slipped into Max’s trembling hands, slick with birth fluids, its weight heavy and warm as Max cradled the tiny, wriggling body.

“Fuck, Poppy… you did it,” Max breathed, his voice thick with emotion as he stared down at the newborn in his hands. “You fucking did it… you’re incredible.”

Poppy’s chest heaved with exhaustion, her head slumping back against the seat as she struggled to catch her breath. Her body trembled, still caught between the aftershocks of her orgasm and the sheer relief of the baby finally being born.

Max, his heart pounding in his chest, leaned in closer, his hands still cradling the slick, squirming newborn. He pressed a soft kiss to her belly, now shrunken and slick with fluids. “You’re amazing,” he whispered, his voice thick with awe as he looked up at her.

Max cradled the newborn boy in his trembling hands, still slick with birth fluids, his breath coming in shaky gasps as he stared down at their child. The weight of the baby in his arms was both grounding and overwhelming, the reality of the moment crashing over him like a wave. His cock still throbbed from the intensity of everything they had just shared, but the raw awe of holding their son in his hands overtook any remaining arousal.

“Poppy,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he looked up at her, his heart pounding in his chest. “It’s a boy.”

Poppy’s eyes fluttered open, her body still trembling from the exertion of birth. She let out a soft, broken laugh, her chest rising and falling in uneven breaths as she looked down at the squirming newborn in Max’s hands. Tears brimmed in her eyes, her face flushed with a mixture of exhaustion and joy.

“A boy,” she breathed, her voice barely more than a whisper as she reached out weakly. “Max… let me hold him.”

Max smiled, his heart swelling with love as he carefully leaned in, gently placing the newborn on Poppy’s chest. The baby squirmed slightly, letting out a soft cry before settling into the warmth of her skin. Poppy’s arms came up shakily to cradle him, her breath hitching as she pressed a kiss to the top of the baby’s tiny head.

“He’s perfect,” she whispered, her voice breaking as tears slipped down her cheeks. “We did it, Max…”

Max’s chest tightened with emotion as he knelt beside her, his hand resting gently on her thigh, still slick with fluids. “You did it, Poppy,” he murmured, his voice filled with awe. “You’re incredible.”

Poppy smiled weakly, her eyes fluttering shut as she leaned her head back against the seat, cradling their son to her chest. The baby let out a soft whimper, his tiny mouth instinctively seeking her breast. Poppy shifted slightly, guiding him toward her nipple, and with a soft, eager suckle, the baby latched on, his tiny lips working rhythmically.

Max watched, mesmerized, as Poppy’s body relaxed slightly, her breaths becoming more even as their son nursed. The sight of her, still slick with the fluids of birth, cradling their newborn in the aftermath of everything they had just gone through, filled him with a profound sense of love and peace.

For a few moments, they simply stayed there, the car filled with the soft sounds of the baby suckling and the quiet rustle of their breaths. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the three of them in the warmth of the car’s small space.

But then Poppy’s breath hitched again, her body tensing beneath Max’s hand. Her brow furrowed, and she let out a low groan, her hand instinctively pressing against her belly.

Max’s heart stuttered, concern flooding his chest as he looked up at her. “Poppy? Is it… is it the afterbirth already?” he asked, his voice filled with worry.

Poppy’s face tightened as another contraction rippled through her, but something about it felt different—sharper, more intense. She shook her head, her breath coming in shallow gasps. “No,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “No, Max… it doesn’t feel like that.”

Max’s eyes widened, his pulse quickening as he realized what she was saying. “What do you mean it doesn’t feel like the afterbirth?” he asked, his voice filled with confusion.

Poppy’s eyes squeezed shut, her hand gripping his wrist as another sharp pain shot through her belly. “Max… I think… I think there’s another one.”

Poppy’s breath came in ragged gasps, her eyes wide with shock as the realization settled in. “Max… there’s another one,” she whispered, her voice trembling with both fear and disbelief. Her body tensed again, the pressure building deep inside her, even more intense than before.

Max’s heart raced, his eyes scanning her still swollen belly, which hadn’t shrunk as much as it should have after the birth of their first child. He could see her belly tightening, the unmistakable sign of another contraction rippling across her skin. “Another one…” he murmured, his voice filled with awe and concern. “A twin…”

Poppy let out a low, guttural moan, her hand pressing against her belly as the pressure mounted. “Max… it’s bigger,” she gasped, her body trembling as the new baby shifted inside her, pressing lower, the sensation almost unbearable. “Oh God… it’s so much bigger…”

Max swallowed hard, his cock still painfully hard from the intensity of everything they’d already been through. The sight of her, so raw, so powerful as she prepared to push out a second, even larger baby, had his heart racing and his body throbbing with need. He reached out, his hand gently stroking her thigh, slick with a mixture of birth fluids, his cum, and sweat.

“Poppy… you’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire and awe. “You can do this… you’re so strong.”

Poppy’s breath hitched as another contraction rolled through her, the pressure almost unbearable. Her hand flew up to grip the seat, her knuckles white as she fought to steady herself. “Max… touch me,” she groaned, her voice thick with both pain and lust. “I need you to… rub your cock on me… on my belly, my pussy. I need to feel you…”

Max’s breath caught in his throat, the rawness of her request sending another wave of heat through him. His cock, still hard and slick from their earlier release, ached with the need to touch her. Without hesitation, he moved closer, positioning himself between her legs as her belly continued to tighten and contract.

His hands trembled as he reached down, rubbing the head of his cock against her swollen, birth-fluid-slicked belly. The sensation of her tight skin against him, still stretched from the first baby, made him groan softly. He pressed his cock against her, slowly sliding it down across her contracting belly, over the slick mess of fluids, down to her bulging, swollen pussy, where her lips were already starting to part again.

Poppy let out a guttural moan, her hips jerking slightly as she felt the warmth of his cock slide against her. Her head fell back against the seat, her body trembling as the pleasure mingled with the intense pressure of the new baby moving lower inside her. “Yes, Max… just like that,” she gasped, her voice low and breathless. “Rub it against me… fuck, it feels so good…”

Max groaned, his hands gripping her thighs as he rubbed his cock against her slick, swollen pussy, the mixture of birth fluids and his own cum making everything even wetter, more intense. His other hand moved up, finding her clit, swollen and throbbing with need. He rubbed it in firm, tight circles, his breath coming in shallow gasps as Poppy’s body trembled beneath him.

“Oh God, Max,” Poppy whimpered, her voice shaking as the baby pressed even lower, the pressure building to a nearly unbearable degree. Her belly, still huge, contracted violently as another sharp pain shot through her. “It’s coming… the water’s going to break…”

As if on cue, another violent gush of water exploded from her, soaking both of them as the immense pressure inside her was suddenly released. The sheer amount of fluid that poured from her was overwhelming, soaking her thighs, Max’s cock, and the seat beneath her. Her belly shrank considerably, the tightness easing for just a moment, but the massive baby was still pressing down, and the pressure quickly returned.

“Oh fuck, Max,” Poppy groaned, her voice shaking as her hips jerked against his cock. “It’s so much bigger… I can feel it stretching me… oh God, I need to push.”

Max’s heart pounded, his cock throbbing as he pressed it against her slick, shrunken belly, rubbing harder against her. The sight of her belly contracting, the baby pressing lower, and the slick, wet heat of her pussy against him was driving him wild. He rubbed his cock along the length of her body, sliding it back down to her pussy as his fingers continued to work her clit.

“You’re so fucking incredible,” he gasped, his voice thick with both awe and arousal. “Push for me, Poppy… push out our second baby…”

Poppy let out a deep, guttural moan, her body trembling violently as she bore down, the pressure inside her building to an almost unbearable degree. Her free hand which wasn’t holding up the newborn against her, flew up to grip the seat, her knuckles white as she pushed with everything she had. The baby’s head pressed lower, stretching her swollen pussy even more, the bulging lips trembling as the sheer size of the baby began to overwhelm her.

“Oh God… Max… it’s so big… I can feel it,” she whimpered, her voice breaking as her hips jerked against him. “Fuck, it’s stretching me so wide…”

Max groaned, his cock sliding against her slick, birth-fluid-coated skin as he rubbed harder, his fingers moving faster against her clit. “You can do it, Poppy,” he murmured, his voice low and breathless. “You’re so strong… so fucking amazing…”

As he rubbed his cock against her, the newborn boy in Poppy’s arms suckled harder at her breast, his tiny mouth working rhythmically as he nursed. The sensation of the baby nursing, combined with the intense pleasure of Max’s cock and fingers, sent shivers down Poppy’s spine.

Her body trembled violently, her breath coming in sharp gasps as she pushed harder, the baby’s massive head slowly crowning, stretching her to her absolute limit. “Oh fuck, Max… it’s coming… I can feel the head… it’s so fucking big…”

Max groaned, his cock throbbing painfully as he watched her swollen pussy stretch wide, the baby’s head pushing through, her body trembling violently as the pressure inside her built to an unbearable degree. “You’re doing it, Poppy,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire and awe. “You’re going to push out our baby… you’re incredible…”

Poppy let out a sharp cry, her body convulsing as she bore down with everything she had. Her breath hitched, her back arching off the seat as she pushed harder, the baby’s head finally slipping free with a wet squelch, more fluids gushing out around it. 

The sensation of her body stretching so wide, combined with the intensity of the moment, sent Max over the edge. His cock throbbed, and with a deep, guttural groan, he came hard, his release spilling over her slick, swollen pussy, mixing with the birth fluids as his body trembled with the force of his climax.

“Oh God, Max… the head’s out,” she whimpered, her voice shaking as the massive baby’s head stretched her wide.

Max, still trembling from his release, pressed his softening cock gently against her slick, swollen lips. His fingers continued to rub her clit, though slower now, still offering her the stimulation she craved. “You’ve got this, Poppy,” he murmured, his voice thick with awe and emotion, his breath steadier now. “Just a little more… push for me, sweetheart…”

Poppy groaned, her entire body shaking as she bore down again, the baby’s massive shoulders pressing through, stretching her even wider. The wet, slick sound of fluids squelching around the baby filled the car as Poppy’s belly shrank more, the pressure inside her finally easing as the huge baby slid free into Max’s trembling hands.

Max gasped, his heart pounding as he cradled the massive newborn in his arms, slick with fluids, the sheer size of the baby almost overwhelming. “Poppy… you did it,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he looked up at her. “He’s out… you’re fucking amazing…”

Poppy’s chest heaved with exhaustion, her head slumping back against the seat as she struggled to catch her breath. Her body trembled, the aftershocks of the intense birth still rippling through her as she smiled weakly, her eyes fluttering open to look at Max.

“We did it,” she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath as she reached out weakly to touch the newborn. “Max… he’s so big…”

Max smiled, his heart swelling with love as he gently handed the massive newborn up to Poppy, placing the baby on her chest. The newborn squirmed slightly, letting out a soft cry before nestling into her skin, his tiny mouth instinctively seeking her other breast. With a soft, eager suckle, the second baby latched on, nursing alongside his brother.

Poppy let out a soft, broken laugh, tears slipping down her cheeks as she cradled both of their babies to her chest. “They’re perfect, Max… they’re so perfect…”

Max leaned in closer, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, his hand gently stroking her thigh as he smiled down at their newborns. “You’re perfect, Poppy,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re everything.”

The air in the car was thick with the warmth of their shared exhaustion, the surreal calm that followed the raw, primal storm they had just endured. Max’s gaze traveled between his wife and their newborn sons, still latched to Poppy’s breasts, nursing quietly as if the intensity of their arrival had never happened. It was quiet now, but the weight of what they had done—what they had experienced—hung heavy between them.

Max chuckled softly under his breath, the sound low and full of disbelief. “I can’t believe we just… we just did that,” he murmured, his hand smoothing over the soft curve of her thigh, still slick with birth fluids and his own release. “In a car, no less.”

Poppy let out a tired, breathless laugh, her chest rising and falling as she glanced down at the two perfect, tiny lives she’d just brought into the world. “Yeah… not exactly the traditional way to deliver twins, is it?” she muttered, her voice thick with exhaustion, but there was a hint of amusement in her eyes.

Max shook his head, still unable to fully process the sheer madness of what had happened. His wife, giving birth to their twins in the cramped, intimate space of their luxury car, covered in a mix of birth fluids, cum, and the sweat of their shared pleasure—it was something out of a wild, forbidden fantasy. He never could have imagined this, not in his wildest dreams.

“I guess we don’t do things the conventional way,” he said softly, a small smile tugging at his lips as his fingers traced delicate patterns on her skin. “But we did it. You did it. You’re amazing.”

Poppy sighed, her body finally relaxing into the seat, her muscles still trembling from the intensity of labor. She let out another soft laugh, shaking her head. “I don’t know whether to feel proud or insane,” she muttered, her lips curving into a faint smile. “But… we made it.”

Max’s heart swelled with so much love and devotion as he gazed down at her, the disbelief and awe still flooding his chest. After everything he had been through—the power, the mistakes, the devastation of the Dream Stone—he had never imagined that life could give him this. A family. A second chance. The weight of it all threatened to overwhelm him, but as he looked at his wife, cradling their twins, a sense of peace washed over him.

“I never thought… after everything,” Max whispered, his voice catching slightly, “that life could still surprise me like this.”

Poppy smiled softly, her eyes closing as she leaned her head back, still cradling the newborns against her chest. “You deserve it, Max,” she murmured, her voice soft but certain. “We both do.”

Max swallowed hard, his hand resting on her belly, which was still soft and contracting slightly, the aftershocks of what her body had just endured. “Yeah,” he said quietly, his voice filled with emotion. “Maybe we do.”

For a long moment, they sat in silence, the air around them heavy with the strange, wonderful reality of what had just happened. The twins suckled contentedly, the car now filled with the gentle sounds of their breathing and the occasional rustle of movement.

Max had never thought his life could still hold this kind of joy, this kind of raw, unfiltered connection. Not after the chaos and destruction he had brought into the world. But as he sat there, with his wife and their newborns, he realized that this—this strange, unconventional, messy moment—was everything he had ever needed.

Poppy shifted slightly in the seat, a tired but amused smirk on her lips. “Max,” she muttered, her voice hoarse but teasing, “you might want to tuck yourself back in. I don’t think the hospital’s ready for that much of you.”

Max blinked, glancing down at himself, his still-exposed cock, and laughed softly, the absurdity of it all hitting him. “Right, yeah, that might be a bit much.” He quickly tucked himself back into his pants, zipping up with a sheepish smile. “Thanks for the heads-up.”

But as soon as the moment of levity passed, Poppy let out a low groan, her hand flying to her belly as another contraction rippled through her. “Max… oh God, it’s not over,” she whispered, her face tightening in discomfort. “The afterbirth…”

Max’s pulse quickened, but this time, he wasn’t panicking. He moved with calm efficiency, carefully helping her shift her position in the seat. “I’ve got you,” he murmured softly, his hand gently supporting her back as she bore down again. Poppy’s breath came in short, labored gasps, her body expelling the afterbirth with far less intensity than before, but still enough to leave her trembling.

Max reached back to the go-bag in the backseat, pulling out clean towels. He worked quickly, wiping down her legs and carefully cleaning up the aftermath as much as he could in the small, cramped space. Birth fluids soaked the towels, and Max wrapped the afterbirth with steady hands, placing it aside before turning his attention to his wife and their newborns.

With tenderness and care, he grabbed the soft, baby-blue blankets from the go-bag, wrapping each of their newborn sons snugly. The twins squirmed a little but quickly settled into the warmth, content against Poppy’s chest as she cradled them.

Max glanced up at her, the weight of everything hitting him as he brushed a damp strand of hair from her forehead. “You okay?” he asked softly, his voice low and filled with concern.

Poppy smiled faintly, her eyes fluttering open to meet his. “Never been better…” she whispered, exhaustion evident in her words, but there was a softness there too.  

He moved back into the driver’s seat, the engine purring to life as he carefully pulled the car back onto the road. The world outside was quiet now, the chaos of their wild birth experience behind them, though the warmth and smell of it lingered in the small space of the car, but they didn’t care.

As they drove toward the hospital, Poppy stirred, glancing down at the two tiny bundles in her arms. “Alastair’s going to lose his mind,” she said softly, a tired but warm smile tugging at her lips. “He’s been waiting for this moment forever.”

Max smiled at the thought, his heart swelling. “He’s going to be the best big brother,” he murmured, pride flooding his chest.

[allurilove]

OMG I LOVE YOUR YANDERE HUSBAND DRABBLES <3

can you write a drabbled about the time when reader is giving birth to Henry?

ily and bless you <3

Awww tysm!

Your husband prepped the hospital bag weeks in advance, and when the day finally came, he felt so proud that he was all ready to go. He yanked his car door open gently got you to sit and settle into your seat, and he helped you put on your seatbelt. He then rushed inside, grabbed the bag, threw it into the backseat, and he jumped into the drivers seat.

He plugged your ears with your headphones, and started to play classical music. You’ve been listening to that genre since the start of your pregnancy, all because he heard that it would make the baby smarter.

“Just relax, alright? I’ll take care of everything.”Your husband smiled, gently petting your head as you practiced your breathing exercises.

He started up the car and slammed on the gas. You could only hear the soothing sounds of the violin as your husband swerved in between cars, and when you slowly looked at him, you saw him lashing out at other “dumb” drivers.

When the music stopped, and there’s that brief moment of silence before it changed to the next song, pieces of your husband’s crude words filled your ears. “Go faster, you stupid-“

You clear your throat and glare at him. He glanced back at you, grabbed your phone, and raised up the volume of the music. Your husband gave you another innocent smile, before he started to drive like a maniac again.

You queued: “The Mission: Gabriel’s Oboe” by Ennio Morricone, Yo-Yo Ma, and Roma Sinfonietta.

When you made it to the hospital, you changed into the gown they gave you, and sat on the bed. Your husband slumped against the wall and watched as the doctors took care of the rest. He gave you his hand to squeeze, and he was too tired to register the pain from your tightening grip.

It took you hours to start pushing. Your husband curiously took a look downstairs, his other hand reaching for his phone just to take videos of the situation. After all, this baby was about to be the best thing that has ever happened to the relationship. But oh god, he started to feel woozy. He held onto your hand for support when he started to lose his footing, but he tripped on his own feet, and was knocked down onto the floor.

Your husband never wanted to be the man that fainted as his wife gave birth. He slowly opened his eyes, and when he glanced over…he could see the baby already in your hands. He groaned, mentally cursing at himself for missing the delivery, and he got back onto his feet.

The man was pretty embarrassed as he walked towards you, and he kissed your forehead as a small apology. He cleared his throat before he attempted to talk to you. “So uh, what are we going to name him?” Your husband glanced at the little guy.

“Henry.” You beamed, already confident in your choice.

“…Henry.” He muttered, testing out the name on his tongue. He then patted his pockets before he grabbed his list of names he made. He unfolded the paper and his eyes scanned the names. “I don’t see Henry as one of the names we both agreed on.”

“It just feels right.” You reply.

“You’re feeling a lot of things right now, let’s just lean away from the name Henry.“

You give him a look. “What’s wrong with Henry?” You then lifted up the baby towards him. “Doesn’t he look like a Henry?”

Your husband shook his head, his lips curling downwards. “He looks like a Frederick or Fred. Maybe, a Bennett or Ben. If I’m being honest, he’s looking pretty ambiguous right now.”

“But he’s definitely a Henry.”

“What about Harry-“ Your husband tried to throw that name into the mix but you shut him down. You were pretty set on the name Henry. You two didn’t have to follow the pre-agreed list of names that you guys already argued about for hours, and you were allowed to change your mind.

Your husband reluctantly agreed with you, and your new born was finally given a name. After you were able to recover for a couple of days at the hospital, you were free to go back home. Your husband was looking at the closet filled with baby clothes, already imaging what it would be like to start dressing him up. He had each drawer filled with outfits for every day of the week, and even the holidays! For Christmas, Henry could wear red pajamas with little reindeers and snowflakes on them. There was also a mini elf outfit, and of course yandere husband was going to dress up as Santa.

Your man was super happy as he stood by the crib. He peered down at the bassinet and he had a huge smile on his face. He just knew that he’ll get along with Henry. He could just tell.

[tobiasdrake]

Hi! Absolutely adore your DBZ analyses, thank you so much - just spent a delightful time reading them all. I was wondering, since you've commented on Chi-Chi and Goku's marriage, what do you have to say about Vegeta and Bulma's relationship? (I've always been entranced by it - mostly because as with all his romances, Toriyama had the wisdom not to show any of it onscreen. But I'd love to know your thoughts about it.)

Bulma and Vegeta are a match made in Hell, and they deserve each other. (Which is to say yes, I love this ship.)

Hooking Bulma up with Vegeta was a hell of a narrative swerve. Generally speaking, stories rarely do this; They rarely let characters break up once they're already invested in a romance, unless it's supposed to be like a love triangle thing.

And Bulma? Bulma was invested. At least, to a degree.

This was the birth of the original Bulma romance that ran through about half of the manga. Two teens interesting in the opposite sex suddenly realize the availability of the other and a relationship is born.

Toriyama says he's bad at writing romance but to be honest, this has always hit me as more believable than your typical drawn-out five-seasons-of-pining Will They/Won't They affair. I'm a girl. You're a boy. Wanna go out and see what clicks?

And these two... these two do not click. We only really see their relationship from Bulma's perspective but it's clear that these two are miserable together.

The manga sorta takes Bulma's side, in that we never really get to hear Yamcha's opinion about their relationship one way or another. When he's around, all he wants to do is talk shop about martial arts. Since Toriyama doesn't like to write romance, we simply don't see much of it from them. What little we do hear about it comes from Bulma complaining about how miserable she is.

Bulma is pretty much always pissed off whenever the relationship is in focus at all.

Anime filler tends to take Yamcha's side instead, portraying him as a put-upon victim of Bulma's jealousy and abuse. A nice guy who doesn't deserve the way she treats him.

It's not hard to buy into this interpretation of their relationship since, as noted, we rarely get anything from Yamcha with regard to his relationship to women or Bulma specifically but we know Bulma's a lot. It's easy to accept Bulma as the "bad guy" of this relationship because. Like. Remember that time she enslaved a sentient being? Good times.

Though one particular moment from Yamcha later on kinda stands out as a bit of a retroactive Yikes.

Yeah. Uh. Threatening violence against a woman for rejecting his bro is a bit of a Yikes. Is this who we were supposed to see Yamcha as all this time? Because, if so, it might have helped to let him opine about the relationship more. Just saiyan.

According to Toriyama in interview, Yamcha and Bulma ultimately broke up because she caught Yamcha cheating on her. I guess that's what him being "popular with girls" was supposed to mean: Once he got over his gynophobia and found confidence with the opposite sex, Yamcha became a player.

But that doesn't necessarily come across from the statement, "Bulma can't stand that Yamcha's popular with girls." A lot of fans took that to mean girls just like him for no reason, and Bulma's unreasonably jealous about it. The anime took that position too.

Note that the "Yamcha is popular with girls" thing isn't helped by the fact that we never see it on-panel because he's only ever talking shop when he's around. But we do see a wandering eye from Bulma often enough.

There's nothing wrong with enjoying the aesthetic appeal of another party even when you're in a monogamous relationship, but it doesn't really present the "Other party is a womanizer and cheater" case when you're the only one ever seen doing this.

So it feels like there's a lot about Yamcha and Bulma's relationship that never made it to print yet influenced later decisions. Those decisions ended up being controversial because the foundation for those decisions was never laid. Here, Toriyama's disdain for writing romance worked against him.

But ultimately, regardless of whose side you take, it doesn't really matter. It doesn't matter who the "bad guy" is. A healthy relationship does not have a "bad guy" in it.

Whether or not Yamcha cheated, whether or not Bulma's just an unreasonably jealous hell-beast, it doesn't actually matter. What matters is that once you reach the point where you're taking sides over which party is the most obnoxious asshole and I hate you and I wish we never met... this relationship is not working for anybody.

It doesn't matter who the bad guy is. It doesn't matter who deserves the blame for this relationship being a toxic shithole. That there is blame to throw around in the first place is the problem. Every relationship has its ups and downs but if one party is constantly miserable for years and has possibly been looking for an escape hatch since year 1, that's not a little tiff.

What matters is that these two are not working out. Any time we see their relationship in focus, they are miserable together. The anime tried to do some patchwork on that with audience reception by giving them some cute moments as well, but because those moments aren't canon the pair remained miserable.

And then this happened.

Despite everything, I think we all assumed that Bulma and Yamcha were going to work it out. Fictional relationships are often portrayed as tumultuous. To a writer, nothing says true love like being constantly miserable and despising every waking moment you spend with your awful, nagging ball-and-chain of a spouse. That's just. Like. What the straights think romance is. It's weird.

I think we all thought that was going to be the deal here too. And then Trunks came along and said, "Nope, actually, they finally severed the cord."

Again, Toriyama says he's bad at writing romance but holy shit, the toxic and miserable relationship actually ended. The two characters involved who only got together out of loneliness and desperation later found they were incompatible with each other. That's so real. Much moreso than a lot of fictional romances.

Instead, we got the absolute crack ship that is Vegeta and Bulma. What a wild-ass revelation for Trunks to drop.

Like. Until the end of the Namek arc, this was the only time these two characters even met.

She also saw Vegeta for like two seconds here.

That was it. That was their entire history together until Goku defeated Frieza while Kaio sent everyone to Earth. But that's when everything changed for Vegeta.

Stranded on Earth with no ship, no affiliations, no ability to leave the planet and nowhere to go or be and no obligations to anyone but himself, Vegeta's circumstances were wildly different than they'd ever been before. He had become one of the Namekian refugees.

And Bulma was offering refuge.

Hard to resist, indeed. That moment is absolutely hilarious in retrospect. Bulma rolled a Nat 20 on that charisma check. It's pretty clear who the instigator of this relationship was.

Like. It needs to be stated that at this point, the only thing Bulma knew about Vegeta was that he tried to kill them all multiple times, and also he's kinda hot. But. Like.

It's Bulma. Anyone who doesn't expect this from her by now either hasn't been paying attention or started watching the English dub of the anime when they did Z first.

So, naturally, Vegeta is a kind and loving man and became a phenomenal husband and fa--

Wait. No. I got my notes mixed up. It says here Vegeta's a rotten dirty bastard. Like. Chronically. He has Supreme Dickshit Syndrome. It's genetic.

Most of Bulma and Vegeta's developing relationship happens offscreen. From what snippets we get, Vegeta has a tendency to vanish during the day, but he still lives at Capsule Corp so Bulma sees him around.

By the end of the three-year timeskip, it's official. Or semi-official. Yamcha and Bulma broke up at some point during that timeskip and Bulma's given birth to Trunks.

As for Vegeta, he's evidently moved out of Capsule Corp and into his own place.

I guess he's still keeping contact with Bulma since she knows what his intentions are. Not to mention he found his tranquility during these three years, though it's somewhat ambiguous as to what exactly brought that peace to his heart.

But the relationship is off to a rocky start nonetheless. Clearly something went down between Vegeta and Bulma that drove Vegeta out of Capsule Corp. To. Uh. Somewhere.

I like to imagine Vegeta living in some shitty West City apartment he rents off a stipend Bulma's sending him that he refuses to openly acknowledge. Like, room 101 is a down-on-his-luck tax accountant, room 102 is a couple with a kid trying to make ends meet off two retail workers' salaries, and then room 103 is Vegeta, Prince of All Saiyans. Sometimes he goes to community events and pretends he isn't having fun.

No lie, I would absolutely watch that as a sitcom.

As for Vegeta himself, he's still a rotten dirty bastard.

Worth noting that Vegeta's saying this as a Super Saiyan which means he's drunk on the form's enhanced aggression. But. Still. Vegeta is an absolute monster being dragged kicking and screaming into a pleasant life that he'll one day resent himself for enjoying. This is his arc moving forward.

It's not so much a redemption arc as it is a domestication arc. The uniquely evil even by Saiyan standards Vegeta is gradually being changed by his new terrestrial life. He doesn't want to own up to how much he enjoys it here. Seven years later, he's still desperate to avoid owning up to it.

He doesn't want to be happy here. He doesn't want a loving wife and a son who looks up to him and the most lavish home wealth can afford him and easy, comfortable days spent with friends and loved ones by his side. He doesn't want a happy ending.

But it's like Bulma warned him: Dragon Ball's queen bee is hard to resist.

Welcome back to Capsule Corp, Vegeta. We hardly even noticed you were gone. Honestly, Future Trunks deserves a lot of the credit for this; Watching him die at the Cell Games was what flipped the switch in Vegeta's head that he wants the family he and Bulma have spawned together.

Sure is a good thing we have Dragon Balls because this is a hell of a time to suddenly decide you love your son. But we see the consequences of that seven years later, since Vegeta moved back into Capsule Corp from... I don't know, wherever he went. They're gonna miss him at the next community poolside summer BBQ event for all tenants.

Part of what makes Vegeta and Bulma work, I think, is that they're on the same page about one crucial point. For Bulma, there is one person who will always take precedent in her life above all others. Romance comes and romance goes, but this is the relationship that matters most to her.

Especially when it comes to martial arts and fighting. Bulma doesn't know a lot about the subject, but she knows that Son Goku is her #1. She has no reservations about saying that to her lover's face either.

When fists start flying, Bulma knows who she's rooting for. If Goku's involved, then it's not her guy. That's. Just. Something that anyone who wants to be with her has to be willing to understand. The single most important relationship in Bulma's life will always be her friendship with Goku.

And the thing about Vegeta is... He kind of agrees? Like. See above, re: I wanted Babidi to destroy my feelings for Bulma so that I could become the warrior that can fight with you, Kakarot.

As much as Goku will always be Bulma's #1, he'll also always be Vegeta's #1. He even gets included into Vegeta's fond farewell to the family he loves.

Goku is basically the platonic third in a two-person polycule. This is the second marriage that this poor ace plays a vital role in despite having no real interest in romance whatsoever.

Bulma is selfish, spiteful, petty, and vain. At one point, DBS: Broly directly compares her to Frieza; A comparison that manages to be unbelievably unflattering to both participants.

They're the same picture. A revelation that would probably be horrifying to both.

And Vegeta. Especially Vegeta. But. Like. She warned you she was irresistible. You didn't take her seriously and now look where you are. Married to the She-Frieza. Maybe you should think about your life choices.

This is just. So much fun. As I said at the outset, Bulma and Vegeta are a match made in Hell who make it work because they're both similar brands of awful.

As for Yamcha, it's a little known fact but Yamcha rebounded and moved on with his life. He stops having much story relevancy after he leaves Capsule Corporation so we see very little of his private life from there. After retiring from martial arts and splitting up with Bulma, Yamcha's left without any story hooks to keep him involved.

But there was this interesting moment, when he realized they had a Shenron wish to spare.

After Krillin comes up with something better to use the wish on, he takes it back and claims it was a joke.

This is, surprisingly, a point of contention in the fandom as some of Yamcha's fans prefer the idea that he died miserable and alone after Bulma ruined his life by leaving him. This takeback gets pointed to as proof that he made up his girlfriend entirely. However, in context, it's clear that a) he's trying to brush off his earlier attempt at making a petty wish and b) the thing he's transparently pretending was a joke is the necklace wish, not the existence of his new girlfriend.

Like Bulma, Yamcha moved on with his life after the break up of their miserable relationship. And that was the final word that was ever uttered on Yamcha's romantic prospects, because this was the last time he was ever meaningfully involved with anything at all.

[iwannascreameurekaa]

pjo characters as quotes part 2

Will to Nico: "Here's your Benadryl, it appears Kayla has ripped up a piece of the flooring so if you go to the bathroom just be careful not to stub your toe"

Nico: "...okay"

Jason: "I am not a dog"

Leo: "Yes you are"

Piper: "i bet on loosing dogs"

Leo: "Is it possible to have an autistic dog?"

Will: "wtf"

Piper: "I'm sprinkling sexual tension on them like Parmesan cheese"

*Taylor swift music blasting while they're watching tv*

Hazel: "is Will able to turn down his music or"

Nico: "will turn down Taylor swift"

Will: "you're not a swiftie!!" *music immediately turns off*

*lightning strikes*

Rachel: "Looks like the gods are telling you no!!"

Hazel, in an extremely gleeful voice: "Do it again circus monkey!!"

Annabeth: "You know how to use the microwave, I'm not worried about your happiness"

Will: "*mockingly* "The boogeyman's gonna get you" *normal voice* I will kiss the boogyman. On the mouth."

Nico: "what"

Piper: "greys anatomy is one piece for white people"

Leo: "I am a fricking car"

Jason: "cars can't speak"

Pipers: "he's kinda proof that they can"

Hazel: "what's thunder thighs? Does it strike lightning"

Jason: "I'm sorry since when was I a twink"

Piper: "since your birth"

Jason: "then what is Leo????"

Piper: "a double twink"

Random person: "turn to god"

Piper: "turn to Chappell Roan"

Will to Nico: "DO YOU NEED A LAMP? I CAN STAND IN THE CORNER OF THE ROOM SILENTLY PLEASE"

Will: "my parents chose normal daughter but something happened in the process and they got Hamilton son"

Nico: "I wanna be a bibically accurate angel when I grow up"

Leo: "you're a bibically accurate plastic bag"

Leo to Piper: "You poked me with your long fricking female nails"

Percy: "I'm a strong boy"

Annabeth: "if you're such a strong boy can you help me put away towels"

Percy: "I said I'm a strong boy not a smart boy"

Annabeth: "the gods are gonna strike you if you touch his stuff" 

Nico *pointing at every character that has died in the series*: "DEAD DECEASED KILLED MURDERED"

Nico *pointing at Jason*:  "CYBERPUNKED"

Hazel, just learning about Bluetooth speakers in cars: "i would be a bad driver bc I would be listening to music and swerve to the beat"

Percy to idk who:*pointing to a tv that says "predator"* "thats YOU!"

Leo: hi Frank!

Frank:...I wish I had a prosthetic leg so I could take it off and throw it at you

Leo: what 🧍‍♂️

(Note: I love their beef sm make them kiss now)

Will to Nico: "Time for sleep!! *pause* oh wait I forgot you can't sleep the city needs you!" 

Annabeth: "Don't make enemies if you're allergic to peanut butter."

[fappinreborn]

And if you’re still open for story prompts and all…! Have you considered something like VR pregnancy but in the form of phone app? There’s a secret pregnancy app suddenly installed in your phone; at first you don’t know what kind of app it is until it gives you pop-up notification when a pregnant woman nearby…. Using the app, you can mess around with the woman’s pregnancy; accelerate the pregnancy, decrease or increase the amount of babies inside, to delay or fasten labor or birth… so imagine when you can make an overdue woman give birth using the app but pausing the birth during crowning moment, so she’s basically stuck in crowing position (forever) until you resumed it in your app

You know, this idea had been in my head for a while, but I never got the will to do it... until now. Preggo Control (Part 1 of ?) I don't how this app entered my phone this morning. The developer's name does not exist anywhere in the website nor in the app store. I was 90% sure this could be malware. Yet, even though I could delete the app if I want to, the title of the app alone made it sound like it's worth keeping and using. The Preggo Control app sounded like something that I would use to truly live out my pregnancy fantasies.

Still, when I opened the app, it doesn't do anything, only telling me to find a heavily pregnant woman nearby. It's saturday and I'm not meeting anybody today, so I went out to my nearest local hospital first, since there's gotta be pregnant woman coming and going. I went to the local cafe near the hospital and wait at the corner of the cafe, making sure my phone is not visible by anyone. Soon enough, the phone pinged me and told me that there's a pregnant women nearby of all stages of pregnancy. The images of the pregnant women popped up, along with the description of the woman and their current location. I selected the furthest pregnancy near me and the list was expanded. Name: Amelie Pregnancy: 39 weeks, 4 days Labor: Not yet (First contraction in 5 days, 4 hours, 11 minutes ) Baby: 1 (8.5lbs) Current Activity: Final ultrasound checkup Birth plan: Hospital And the option: Would you like to control this woman's pregnancy? I pressed yes and the options opened up, along with the video of that pregnant woman, currently just finishing her checkup with her hsuband and going back to their car. I can progress the pregnancy to up to 42 weeks and increase the size of the baby. I can also activate their labor and birth at any time and set a script of how it'll go. From where they give birth to what they wear. I can see that she's wearing gray leggings so need to change that and she's with her husband in the car.

With me wanting to watch something immediately, I wore my headset and prepared myself to start it. I slowly increased her pregnancy to overdue and bumped the baby size to 10lbs after she was done with the ultrasound. She didn't notice a thing, so I'm in the clear. I activated the labor and gave her mild labor pains to unease her for a bit. I waited... and waited... and waited... until they're a bit far from the hospital and finally activating the birth process. I can see her water immediately breaks and the contraction hitting her hard like a truck. The couple panics and then the husband quickly swerved back to the hospital. The woman starts pushing hard and I can see the baby quickly starting to tent out the poor woman's leggings. She reached down and felt the head bulging out and tried to get the pants off but couldn't, like the pants are stitched to her skins. She pushed again, the bulge getting bigger and the husband stepped on the gas hard.

I couldn't let them reach the hospital before the baby's born, so I made the woman push until the head fully came out between her legs. She kept screaming and felt the baby bulging out her leggings in panic. They're getting close to the hospital, so I made her push hard and let the baby slip out into her pant leg, right after they pulled up to the ER. I came... seeing the poor woman got hit by something truly out of control is worth my time and entertainment. I packed up my stuff and went back home, satisfied by the outcome. "This is gonna be fun." I said to myself, staring at my new app.

[thebearer]

I know u have a billion requests but I'm dying fir a carmy x reader where she goes into labor

i have one here with willow but i'll write a first time one too with teddy!

Carmen knew it was coming soon, which is why he hovered. Why he rarely let you be alone, the thought of him missing it or something happening made him sick. Tina and Sugar both told him it was a long process, there's no way he'd miss it, but he was still anxious. Worried about a lot of things, thoughts that kept him up at night. Would he be a good dad? Would the birth go ok? What if something happens to the baby? What if something happens to you? What if he gets in a wreck on the way home? What if the baby died in her sleep?

Thoughts that had him throwing up all hours of the night. Your morning sickness was traded in for his own, worrying himself to the point he was sure he had an ulcer.

The phone rang, a Tuesday in August. Still sunny and warm, but with the golden glow that hinted fall was coming soon. Carmen was so busy, trying to approve the new seasonal menu, and for a moment his mind had slipped of all those anxieties. Until he heard your voice.

"I think I'm in labor."

"You think?" Carmen barked, harsher than he meant it to, a wave of guilt flooding over him. "What-What-What do you mean think? Are you ok?"

"Well, my water just broke." You frowned, looking at the puddled under your swollen belly. You paused, a hesitation laying thick in the air between the two of you over the line. "I think it's time."

Carmen was a wreck, swerving and punching the gas in and out of Chicago traffic to get the the brownstone, parking up on the sidewalk, HOA be damned.

You were calm, eerily calm to him, as he threw your bags, all your birthing things into the car, carefully helping you in. "Fuck!" Carmen huffed, hitting his horn for the third time in five minutes.

You gripped the side of the door, trying to breathe like your birthing coach taught you. "Carmy, please." You sighed, regulating your own heart rate. "Stop honking at people before we get shot."

"I'm just... Fuck, you know you think these fuckers would see hazard lights on and move, but everyone's so goddam stupid-"

"Carmen," You grabbed his hand lightly, thumb gliding over his inked fingers calmly. "Just relax. I haven't even really started having contractions, ok? We'll have time." How was it you were in labor and you were the one comforting Carmen? He felt like a jagoff, could practically hear Mikey and Richie's chorusing voices calling him that.

"I'm sorry." Carmen muttered, slumping back into the seat. "I'm just... I'm really fuckin' scared." His knee bounced, hand twitching towards the Spirit's in the center console. It was muscle memory, to reach for the cigarettes when he was anxious. He chose the gum instead, trying his best to cut back for when the baby was here. In case she'd have asthma or something else, and he just didn't want to teach her bad habits.

He wanted to be better. Be better.

Sometimes he wondered if his parents ever had ambitions like that. To be better, do better for their kids. If they did, they didn't stick.

"I know you are." You cooed lightly, running a hand through his damp curls, sweat accumulating at his hair line already. "You're gonna be a good dad, you know that?"

"I hope," Carmen smacked the gum with a shake of his head.

"I know." You beamed at him. "You already do so much for her anyways, and she's not even here, Carmy." He didn't say anything, just kept a white knuckled grip on the wheel, his free holding your hand.

"The only thing you'll be bad at is saying no to her, Carm. I already know that. You're too much of a softy." You giggled, poking him lightly in his bicep.

Carmen's lips twitched, the hints of a smile on his lips. You could feel the wave of a contraction, not overwhelming but uncomfortable, squeezing Carmen's hand lightly, shifting in pain. "What? Are you ok? You good?" Carmen's eyes darted from you to the road.

"Just a little contraction. I'm fine." You sighed gently, rubbing your free hand over the spot you could feel Teddy kicking. "They're still pretty spaced out, so we've got a while."

Carmen let out a shuddered breath, lips quipping in a smile. "She's takin' her time, already? We're doomed. She's gonna be just like her Mama. Late for everything."

You gasped, hitting his shoulder lightly. "And here I was being nice to you!" You bit back a smile. "I am not late for everything. I'm on time for the important stuff. Just late for the things I don't want to go to."

"Signing our marriage license?" Carmen lifted a brow. "You didn't want to do that-"

"-No, no, no! You dressed up and I looked like a bum, so I had to get ready!" You countered lightly, jabbing a finger at him.

"I didn't dress up! I wore jeans-"

"-And a nice button down. Not a t-shirt? That's dressing up, Carm, and you know it." You frowned at him. "I had a pair of bike shorts on."

"And you looked hot in them." Carmen grinned, eyes glinting when he looked at you, making you blush, heat rushing to your cheeks and chest. Your own nerves settling, your own what-ifs and fears of giving birth, of being a mother in general.

"Looked better in the dress." Carmen added, lifting your hand to kiss the back of your knuckles. You rolled your eyes lightly, heart fluttering. The white sundress you'd put on, patterned with a floral print but the only white dress you owned, and Carmen had swooned. Flipped it up and fucked you in the back seat after you'd signed it.

"Surprised I didn't get pregnant after that." You grinned, breath hitching at another contraction, dull but stronger this time.

Carmen's eyes cut to yours, thumb running over your knuckles at the pressure. "Can't believe we're having a baby." Carmen muttered, flicking on the turn signal, the hospital in sight.

[mychlapci]

I can't get fat momma Swerve out of my head but I can't phrase any ideas I have I just want him so bad

I want him to get fucked so hard he goes into labor, I want bots to milk his tits and rub their spikes on his belly, I want him to give birth in the bar and have mechs pulling his chubby little thighs apart so they can lick up all the fluids, I wanna hear him cry cause the sparkling is too big and surprise there were 2 in there and they're both huge, I want him to beg for a cube of high grade to numb his processor a little from the pain but no one will cause its bad for mommy's milk, I want him to cook his placenta and eat it cause he heard about it on a TV show and Magnus should yell at him for contaminating the grill, I want I want I want

I just think Swerve should be fat and pregnant all the time don't let him be able to get up. Broodmama meg is out, Swerve is kicked back in berth with his legs up, bitties on his titties, and the remote in his hand to watch reruns -🌱

fat momma Swerve drives me positively insane. i can't believe it took us this long to hit him with the milfication beam.

Swerve would absolutely end up giving birth in the bar... He's so pregnant and fat by now that waddling from one end of the counter to the other is a struggle, and he's completely given up on serving drinks in the booths. Bots don't mind, this way they get to crowd by the bar and watch the little bartender slowly bring their drinks and their food. It usually makes them so horny that a mere couple hours into the night Swerve is snatched up and fucked until he's a blabbering mess. hrghh imagining him super over-due, squirting around a huge spike, when his water explodes out of him. Maybe bots collect his birthing fluids into cups, treating him like a tasty energon dispenser <33 It takes soooo long for him to push out his huge, chunky bitties, valve split so wide open it almost looks impossible. the head of the first bitty is so big that it pushed his chubby little thighs as far as they could have possibly gone, and even that was barely wide enough. By the time he's done giving birth to his twins, his belly is covered in transfluid and bots are already throwing themselves at his valve.

And of course he eats the placenta later... maybe he can even add it to the perverted menu, since he's already growing another chunky bitty. hrghhhh Swerve should be permanently knocked up, so round with babies he can't stand up from his berth at all, not that he'd want to - bots bring him energon, food, snacks, and plenty of overloads <3

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

.⋆｡You’re My To-Do List｡⋆.

Clark Kent x plus size reader

A break in the day’s pack schedule means that Clark is going to be in your pants.

Warnings: domestic fluff, mom!reader, implied smut, oral (f receiving), Conner is still Clark’s clone in this, car sex

WC: 598

A/N: I lost the request I'm so sorry!

Minors DNI

3000 Follower Celebration

With five kids, three of which were just under two, it was almost impossible to have a moment alone with your husband and when you did, there was never enough time for sex. So when there was a 10 minute gap between dropping Jon off at the Wayne’s and picking up the triplets from daycare, Clark wanted to take full advantage. 

You were looking down at your shopping list, mentally going over all the things you would need for the week when suddenly the mini van swerved and you were thrown against the passenger door. “Clark!” But your husband wasn’t listening. Instead he was directing the car down an empty road off of the private lane from Wayne Manor. Once he felt you were far enough from the main road, he shut off the engine and turned to you.

“Take off your pants, get in the back.” 

“Clark no. We have things to do.” He pouted.

“Yeah I know, you’re on my to-do list. See.” He pulled out his phone and showed you his notes app, where at the top it said ‘to-do list’ with a simple ‘eat my wife’s pussy’ right under. You sighed heavily through your nose. Clark was almost glaring at you with a determination you had only seen him use in the most dire of circumstances.

Damn those big blue eyes. You glanced down at your phone and made a note of the time. “You have five minutes.” The click of the seatbelt releasing and his large hands on your wide hips were your only warning before you found yourself in the very back of the car, with your lower half completely naked. 

He nestled his broad shoulder between your plump thighs and pressed his face to your core. You sagged against the seats as he pushed the tip of his nose against your clit like he was trying to breathe you in. You tangled your fingers in his curls as you used your dominant hand to pick up your phone once more. The shopping list was slowly getting longer as Clark took his sweet time lapping at you but not doing much more than that.

“Oh remind me that we need to pick up some more laundry detergent for Conner, I’m pretty sure he’s been using your mom’s. And the girls need glitter from some project the day care wants to do. And Diana mentioned- ow! What the fuck! Did you just bite me!” And sure enough, Clark pulled away from your inner thigh where a nice deep indent of his teeth now lay in your soft skin. A smug grin pulled at his lips, the same grin that resulted in you birthing four big-headed babies.

“Will you just shut up and let me go down on you? I haven’t tasted this perfect little pussy in almost a month and I know that we both need it.” He begged and scooted closer so he could rest his cheek on your mound. “Please just forget all of that shit for five minutes and let me make you feel good.”

Your hand fell from his hair to his jaw, stroking the stubble that he hadn’t had time to get rid of. “Okay okay. I guess you’re right, it has been a while and we’re both a bit pent up.” He smiled at you, kissing the tips of your fingers. 

“Of course I’m right! Now let me get to work.” And then he threw your legs over his shoulder and got down to business. 

Long story short, you were 20 minutes late picking up your toddlers.

Request: Can I please request number 20 with clark kent, pretty please?

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[danwhobrowses]

One Piece Chapter 1131 - Initial Thoughts

It wasn't enough to have a 2 week break, the scans also had to come out late XD

But finally, One Piece is back, and Luffy stands before another self-proclaimed Sun God. We can see some writings on the wall but Oda does like a good swerve, so let's see what he has for us

Spoilers for the chapter below, support the Official Release too

Yamato's cover is him on Komachiyo and Tama on Speed running after the katana thief, nothing too big really - and honestly Speed is really fast so this thief shouldn't outrun them

We pick up right where we left off with Luffy reacting with joy that they're in Elbaf

Hahaha Luffy's quickfire questions and observations quickly annoy Loki who's trying to honey his words

Loki yells and it causes the trees to shake and rumble, animals also seem to growl so it wasn't haki

Loki seems to truly believe himself to be the Sun God 'from all the legends', but telling Luffy not to speak unless he commands it isn't a good start

Also Loki has a 'special bounty' of 2.6bn, so above Yonko Commander (And Dorry and Brogy) but not quite on Yonko, wonder why it's special? Maybe it's not imposed by the WG? Maybe it's a Giant's bounty

When he asks Luffy what he thinks of his predicament Luffy just goes 'looks like you got caught' XD blunt as ever

Huh, Loki's only been imprisoned for 6 years? Last chapter they said 'a few years back' he was sentenced to crucifixion? Maybe a mistranslation? Six is more than a few

His chains are Sea Prism but he says he's the pride of Elbaf's strength

And the big tree is as many theorized Treasure Tree Adam, the same wood the Sunny is made out of!

Loki has a proposal for Luffy - who he called Loppy before being corrected - he wants Luffy to release him and in exchange he'll wipe out any pirate crew he wants

Seems pretty confident that he can solo a pirate crew, that or he just really wants to get out

He showed the carrot but here's the stick; he can't force Luffy to agree, but he has some leverage

The snowy lands here is known as the 'Realm of the Dead' (likely a reference to how Loki is Hel's father in Norse Myth) and is the lowest layer of Elbaf: a place for prisoners and executions

You know that kinda gives me the same vibes as Impel Down's level 4

Things have lived on this layer for thousands of years, so they also call it the 'First World' - which could mean we're blending Hel and Niflheim - the realm of primordial ice and cold, which does sometimes get mixed with Helheim

In Norse Myth (Prose Edda mainly) Niflheim and Muspelheim were the first realms of Ginnungagap (the void), fire and ice mixed to make steam which became Hel - but the Norse for fog or mist is 'Nifel' thus the confusion. The icy rivers of Niflheim melted by Muspelheim's fires also unleashed a yeasty venom that birthed Ymir, the ancestor of the Jotnar

Luffy is cornered by giant beasts, with a cute polar bear, and some humans, all of whom are in service of Loki. The beasts at least befriended him while he was a kid

There is the hilarity of Luffy not taking this serious because like, Loki has no fucking idea who he's talking to XD

Like, you threaten him with a bunch of giant animals? The feral forest child who trained with giant animals for 2 years?

The humans below are explained to avoid being eaten by dressing up in foul smelling clothes and being like 'living corpses' but the minions do kinda get their feelings hurt by this

They do scout out Luffy though, hoping he has anything good on him, before apologizing for fainting after Shanks appeared on the island

Mentioning Shanks perks Luffy up though, who has already befriended the giant animals to Loki and the minions' shock

Excited, Luffy asks about Shanks, but Loki sees an opportunity

Annnnnd chose wrong, he calls Shanks a coward and Luffy immediately goes Gear Fourth

The Kong Gun misses - Loki has been blindfolded this whole time, either he can still see a bit or he has his own impressive Observation Haki - hitting the tree instead

Loki's quick to backpedal on 'it's just a joke bro' and to try and throw a sense of honour in the mix by the fact that he's chained up

Luffy however ain't about that, you piss him off he'll be pissed off, Loki meanwhile already seeks to kill him once he's free in a thought bubble

Luffy asks why Shanks was here, but Loki plays coy, the gears are turning again

Back at the castle bridge, the bridge is shaking causing Nami and Usopp to panic

Usopp spots someone behind them running on the bridge

It's Rodo, still smoking from the lightning attack so the crew deduce he's the same guy

They're being chased by Gerd and Goldberg (and Piper the Owl) as Goldberg carries the Sunny

Zoro expects this to be unfriendly, but before he can draw his sword Usopp attempts pragmatism: they may be allies

For now the group agrees to get to the end of the bridge, so they're on solid ground and because a village may be nearby

Somewhere else in the Realm of the Dead, Hajrudin appears! He's been on the hunt and caught a Moose with Stansen

He specifically came down here to hunt for good meat, in order to have good food waiting for the Straw Hats' arrival

Stansen asks how they'll carry it, the translation is iffy since it even has a t/n, but it seems that it snowing prevents them from having an apparatus

There's also a quick recap of Hajrudin's loyalty to Luffy via Dressrosa, with Leo also there

The two giants instead just decide to carry the Moose, while singing a song about their crew - whose layout is also shown to be just those 5 members

Back on the Longboat, Brook has given Robin a haircut

Brook hasn't cut women's hair so he was nervous, also skull joke

Lilith enjoyed the skull joke because it's a scientific impossibility, Bonney, Jinbe and Franky like the hair too

OG HAIRSTYLE ROBIN MY BELOVED

Awwww and she wanted it that way because that's how Saul would remember it!

Franky of course is keeping it very emotionally together for her

Even Oimo and Kashii mention how it's the same style as how they remember in Enies Lobby

The longboat is also right by Elbaf, from this perspective you can see that the greenery we've seen when Shanks was there is more like an elevation, so this Land of the Dead may be the bottom of a cliffside

But we have a cliffhanger, Saul has fallen and can't get up!

Oda don't you fucking dare cause Robin heartbreak after she's gotten so excited about seeing someone from her past she thought was dead! It's not allowed! Forbidden I say! Don't do it!

Other than that, this was a chapter that seemed more dedicated to giving us more on the personality of Loki. He's definitely a little bit devious, but he's both completely unaware of how strong Luffy is and probably overestimates how tricksy he need to be with manipulating his freedom. Definitely has a grand opinion of himself, and over 2 billion berries as a bounty is nothing to scoff at even if it is lower than Luffy's. I do like though how Oda has knotted things up with releasing Loki, there was an obvious easy route but Loki spends more time shooting himself in the foot which makes it less and less likely that Luffy will simply free him. If anything, one Eustass Kid may be more compelled to free Loki than Luffy is - wouldn't put it past the giants fishing him out and throwing him into this Land of the Dead.

Usopp's observation may also work out with the rest of the crew buddying up with Goldberg and Gerd, maybe bullying Rodo a little more, or they'll just end up in the village and befriend some new characters. If the Land of the Dead has humans that betray Elbaf in some way there may be humans still living in Elbaf itself, I do continue to be intrigued as to how Oda will blend more Norse Myth into the story. If we get a character named Snorri you best believe I'm gonna talk about it.

With the Longboat docking into Elbaf too the crew will likely reunite sooner rather than later, there is still a wealth to explore and discover though, but seriously let Robin be happy!

[presidentbungus]

The first curse Tavish Finnegan Degroot was ever bestowed with was being born a Degroot.

He was born late. The midwife said his head came out and then he did everything within his power to crawl right back in, and thirty years later he'd say that's just because he knew what was waiting for him outside. They'd called up the Crypt Grammar School for Orphans for a car to come get him a while early, since it was three hours away from this poor excuse of a mansion set down in the middle of nowhere and that'd undoubtedly make birthing times and whatnot just a little muddy; the driver arrived at 8 AM sharp, in a repurposed hearse that served as the Crypt's resident Orphanmobile, and proceeded to sit in the little patch of mud an especially optimistic soul could call a driveway for the next nine hours. When Tavish was finally coaxed out into a musty room just as covered in gunpowder as the entire rest of the house, gently taken from his complaining mother's arms, and roughly sprinted down to the entrance of the manor, the carriage had just given up and begun to leave, and it took a gunshot through the back window to convince it to stop for a damn second and take him off with it.

Curse two had already been at work, and three quickly materialized; in order, time's general distaste for his existence, and a troubling disagreement with cars as a concept.

Ten minutes onto the road, a moose bolted through (moose don't live in Scotland; this one was captive of a nearby circus that had suddenly and inexplicably been descended upon by rabid elephants, which themselves had been performers in a different nearby circus which had become a gigantic sinkhole for no particular reason, and so on); the driver swerved, Tavish rattled around in the back with the coffins from the hearse's last owner which no one had bothered to remove, and the hearse rumbled directly into a puddle of quicksand, which quickly set to drinking in as much of the car as possible as the driver got out and started waving his arms around and dancing in circles and whatnot.

There was rope in the trunk, and Tavish was eventually rescued and set off to the side in a spot where the grass was thin on the muddy, insecty ground while his chauffeur got to work excising the car, which arguably is not a good place for a baby but bygones can be bygones; however, when all was said and done and the Orphanmobile was on mostly dry land again, every single one of its tyres was inexplicably deflated (unbeknownst to both parties, the pit of quicksand belied an old-fashioned booby-trap-styled pit of spikes; this had previously been the crash site of a truck carrying supplies for ancient tombs and haunted towers and such), and the baby on the ground was missing.

Tavish had been taken to a nearby tree by a very zealous hawk, who wasn't going to let anything stop her from raising this massive, squirming, screaming thing as one of her own, except perhaps an orphan delivery driver with a large and pointy stick; when all was said and done Tavish was saved with nothing but a few feathers stuck to all the mud he was covered in, and when the driver walked back to the Orphanmobile he quickly discovered it had been completely consumed by the quicksand.

Of course there were five or six more curses in action here, but for the most part too small and specific to bother with; as they began to stack up through his childhood Tavish found it a pointless waste of time to tally all but the biggest ones, since there were just too many patterns of unluck to worry about very many in particular.