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novin_haJOYFUL MYSTERIES
Third Mystery: The Nativity
Warnings: Tentacle!kink. Dubcon!m-preg. Established relationship. Threesome. Pregnant sex. Anal pregnant sex, probably. Non-graphic depiction of birth.
This part is ~1500 words of fluff and crack!porn of the Illyria/Faith/Wesley variety.
Dedicated to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
girlupnorth, also known as The Enabler, who thought up the title for this.
The Nativity
“Morning, prince,” Faith muttered into his ear, before pinching him painfully.
“Ouch!” Consciousness went to annoyance in three seconds, turning to arousal in the next five. Illyria’s hand was stroking him under the covers slowly; he moved closer to her, as close as his huge stomach allowed.
In the last two months, he’d been experiencing cravings, mood swings and periods of unimaginable horniness. On a bad day, he ate out the entire fridge, including a whole roast chicken and the ice cubes, before collapsing in tears and demanding someone hug him. On a good one, they spent eight hours in bed, having sex, only interrupted by his very frequent visits to the bathroom and the kitchen.
Illyria kissed him on the mouth.
Judging by his erection, he was pretty sure today would be a good day.
Faith’s hand joined Illyria’s on his cock, and he gasped; her other hand was touching his ass, and it only took a short while for him to be close.
“Please,” he whispered, as the hands sped up, and then Illyria was kissing him again, muffling his moans as he came.
He was just trying to sneak his hand between Illyria’s legs when the contractions started.
*~*~*
They propped him up with pillows and gave him herbal tea to calm him down while they were waiting for Willow to arrive.
He had never been less calm in his life.
“I haven’t even had my morning shave yet! I’ll look criminal! She’ll decide that we’re unfit parents!”
Faith got off the phone to give him a tough look.
“These are just first contractions, Wes. You can get up, go to the bathroom and shave all you want, it can take, like, two days before the labour is through.”
Wesley sniffled.
“Besides, Willow’s just coming to help with the mystical caesarean, she’s not a review board. And if she were, Illyria’d just rip her spine out and that would be it.”
Wesley took a sip of the herbal tea.
“For what it’s worth, that actually did make me feel better, thanks,” he muttered.
Illyria was in the kitchen, boiling hectolitres of water. She had been told that was an important human custom related to childbirth.
Wesley found her being unnerved strangely soothing.
“I think I will go and try to take a shower in that case,” he decided.
Faith followed him into the bathroom (despite his protests that he doubted the children would suddenly fall out of him), and sat down on the washing machine, newspaper in hand.
Wesley climbed into the shower and started washing himself. The stomach kept getting in the way.
“Faith?” he called out, right before another contraction made him gasp for air.
She helped him wash his back and legs.
He was really looking forward to seeing his feet again.
~*~*~
Willow arrived through a portal soon after, and after brief introductions, she went straight to hugging Faith, as though they were long-estranged sisters.
“Looking good, Will, looking good,” Faith said, finally. “How’s Kennedy treating you?”
Willow smiled happily.
“Like a lady, Faith. But I see you’re eating your cake and keeping it too! Polyamory is the new gay, huh?”
“What can I say, I’m way greedy! And besides, threesomes hardly even count.”
“And you’re not being a specist, too, good for you!”
Wesley cleared his throat and interrupted before the matter of technical, tentacle-related details pertaining to the conception was being discussed in graphic detail.
“There’s a man in labour here, in case you forgot.”
Willow flitted to his side immediately.
“Like I would ever forget. This is such a wonderful thing you’re doing here, not letting conventions dictate the way you live and love!”
Wesley bit back a comment about letting, consent and dictatorships.
“Of course, the whole former Watcher-Slayer thing is a little icky, but we’re all past that, aren’t we!”
“I’m past due to get a nice little mystical caesarean,” Wesley suggested.
“Of course, of course. I’ll just get my supplies. So tell me, you weren’t getting it on when you gave her that Orpheus shit, right? ‘Cause that would be just plain twisted.”
Illyria shot him a glare.
“Most certainly not!” Wesley denied.
“He was madly in love with the skinny one whom Illyria burnt out, and sort of mourning the mortal enemy with whom he’d had an affair,” Faith explained. “He has this dramatic tendency, you know, Buffy’d be proud.”
He couldn’t remember why he hadn’t gone with his first choice of performing the procedure himself.
*~*~*
Illyria threatened Willow with eternal torment should any harm come to her progeny or mate. Faith said she was already planning a naming party. Wesley replied that she might save that until after they’d actually picked names.
“Well, I don’t think there’s any need to wait for labour to get any more advanced,” said Willow. “Let’s just do it now.”
Wesley muttered a “Finally,” into the air, and lay down.
“You might want to take off your shirt,” suggested Willow.
Fifteen minutes of sulphuric smells later, Faith and Illyria were each cutting two umbilical cords, and Willow was practically glowing with pride as though she had been fully responsible for the miracle she was witnessing.
“You are proud parents of four very healthy, very happy, very fat and… well, blue baby daughters!” she announced.
Four tiny throats opened and started to cry.
“They’ll need to listen to their… well, daddy’s heartbeat, so you’ll have to rotate them. You should also try to feed them. Actually, if you’ve decided who is to nurse them, I know this amazing spell for multiple nipples…”
Wesley shuddered.
“They will be nursed by persons with bottles, thank you for your kind offer.”
They said their goodbyes. Four little miracles were held and carried around, and they latched onto four bottles of warm, protein-enriched baby formula.
Wesley held the palest blue one close to his chest. She had tiny fingers, huge blue eyes and chubby cheeks.
“They’re beautiful,” Faith whispered. “I mean, they look completely weird with this blue hue, and all wrinkly, but they’re also really cute.”
“My progeny’s quality satisfies me,” agreed Illyria, letting one of her daughters try to grab her finger with her tiny hands.
Faith startled.
“I completely forgot to ask Willow when you can have sex again, Wesley!”
He scowled.
“I suppose as soon as my vagina heals, Faith.”
*~*~*
The first month after the babies were born passed in a whirl of feeding, washing and calming down the babies. There were four of them and only three of the parents; Wesley had never felt so strongly about finding another person – or possibly five – to join their relationship.
“We could cast love spells on unsuspecting victims,” he suggested, “or just kidnap illegal immigrants.”
They had a demon nurse come by every second day to help them, and Illyria used her temporal manipulations to help the three of them get a couple of hours of sleep every now and then. It was still unbelievably difficult; almost as difficult as organizing the naming ceremony.
Thank goodness there was enough babies to warrant eight Earth parents (they briefly considered giving each baby three of these, but decided that enough is enough), because choosing just two would have doubtlessly resulted in blood feuds. It was complicated enough agreeing on four names. Wesley felt quite bitter about the women’s reaction to his suggestions of “Antigone” and “Dolores”, his grandmothers’ names. Faith promised to refer to him as “Isolde” for the rest of his days if he even tried to argue, and then suggested “Christabel”. Even Illyria considered that one inhumane.
The babies appeared to be almost identical for the first couple of days, but soon the parents were able to tell them apart quite easily.
When Louise cried for too long, she would sometimes inadvertently open tiny portals into dimensions filled with either milk or soup. The tidying up was awful; Wesley never complained, however, since at least she hadn’t experimented with her powers while in the womb. He would have been none too pleased had she accidentally vanished one of his kidneys.
Pia and Sophia weren’t playing with timespace continuum yet, though there was nothing to suggest they wouldn’t at some later point; for now, they were simply more interested in devouring large quantities of food as well as in lifting heavy objects with their feet.
They also tried to stake their teddy bears with their tiny rattles. Faith’s boastfulness about her genes was unbearable.
Téa was born paler than her sisters, and became even whiter with time. Her hair had a bluish tinge, but most of the time appeared to be dark brown. In a certain light, she could almost pass for a regular human; moreover, she didn’t seem to be fascinated with either weaponry or magic. She kept demanding to be carried around near the bookcases. He once let her hold a book, but she promptly slobbered all over the cover.
Being a proud father agreed with him. He was almost happy enough not to get upset over the pregnancy pounds he still couldn’t lose.
Third Mystery: The Nativity
Warnings: Tentacle!kink. Dubcon!m-preg. Established relationship. Threesome. Pregnant sex. Anal pregnant sex, probably. Non-graphic depiction of birth.
This part is ~1500 words of fluff and crack!porn of the Illyria/Faith/Wesley variety.
Dedicated to
girlupnorth, also known as The Enabler, who thought up the title for this.The Nativity
“Morning, prince,” Faith muttered into his ear, before pinching him painfully.
“Ouch!” Consciousness went to annoyance in three seconds, turning to arousal in the next five. Illyria’s hand was stroking him under the covers slowly; he moved closer to her, as close as his huge stomach allowed.
In the last two months, he’d been experiencing cravings, mood swings and periods of unimaginable horniness. On a bad day, he ate out the entire fridge, including a whole roast chicken and the ice cubes, before collapsing in tears and demanding someone hug him. On a good one, they spent eight hours in bed, having sex, only interrupted by his very frequent visits to the bathroom and the kitchen.
Illyria kissed him on the mouth.
Judging by his erection, he was pretty sure today would be a good day.
Faith’s hand joined Illyria’s on his cock, and he gasped; her other hand was touching his ass, and it only took a short while for him to be close.
“Please,” he whispered, as the hands sped up, and then Illyria was kissing him again, muffling his moans as he came.
He was just trying to sneak his hand between Illyria’s legs when the contractions started.
*~*~*
They propped him up with pillows and gave him herbal tea to calm him down while they were waiting for Willow to arrive.
He had never been less calm in his life.
“I haven’t even had my morning shave yet! I’ll look criminal! She’ll decide that we’re unfit parents!”
Faith got off the phone to give him a tough look.
“These are just first contractions, Wes. You can get up, go to the bathroom and shave all you want, it can take, like, two days before the labour is through.”
Wesley sniffled.
“Besides, Willow’s just coming to help with the mystical caesarean, she’s not a review board. And if she were, Illyria’d just rip her spine out and that would be it.”
Wesley took a sip of the herbal tea.
“For what it’s worth, that actually did make me feel better, thanks,” he muttered.
Illyria was in the kitchen, boiling hectolitres of water. She had been told that was an important human custom related to childbirth.
Wesley found her being unnerved strangely soothing.
“I think I will go and try to take a shower in that case,” he decided.
Faith followed him into the bathroom (despite his protests that he doubted the children would suddenly fall out of him), and sat down on the washing machine, newspaper in hand.
Wesley climbed into the shower and started washing himself. The stomach kept getting in the way.
“Faith?” he called out, right before another contraction made him gasp for air.
She helped him wash his back and legs.
He was really looking forward to seeing his feet again.
~*~*~
Willow arrived through a portal soon after, and after brief introductions, she went straight to hugging Faith, as though they were long-estranged sisters.
“Looking good, Will, looking good,” Faith said, finally. “How’s Kennedy treating you?”
Willow smiled happily.
“Like a lady, Faith. But I see you’re eating your cake and keeping it too! Polyamory is the new gay, huh?”
“What can I say, I’m way greedy! And besides, threesomes hardly even count.”
“And you’re not being a specist, too, good for you!”
Wesley cleared his throat and interrupted before the matter of technical, tentacle-related details pertaining to the conception was being discussed in graphic detail.
“There’s a man in labour here, in case you forgot.”
Willow flitted to his side immediately.
“Like I would ever forget. This is such a wonderful thing you’re doing here, not letting conventions dictate the way you live and love!”
Wesley bit back a comment about letting, consent and dictatorships.
“Of course, the whole former Watcher-Slayer thing is a little icky, but we’re all past that, aren’t we!”
“I’m past due to get a nice little mystical caesarean,” Wesley suggested.
“Of course, of course. I’ll just get my supplies. So tell me, you weren’t getting it on when you gave her that Orpheus shit, right? ‘Cause that would be just plain twisted.”
Illyria shot him a glare.
“Most certainly not!” Wesley denied.
“He was madly in love with the skinny one whom Illyria burnt out, and sort of mourning the mortal enemy with whom he’d had an affair,” Faith explained. “He has this dramatic tendency, you know, Buffy’d be proud.”
He couldn’t remember why he hadn’t gone with his first choice of performing the procedure himself.
*~*~*
Illyria threatened Willow with eternal torment should any harm come to her progeny or mate. Faith said she was already planning a naming party. Wesley replied that she might save that until after they’d actually picked names.
“Well, I don’t think there’s any need to wait for labour to get any more advanced,” said Willow. “Let’s just do it now.”
Wesley muttered a “Finally,” into the air, and lay down.
“You might want to take off your shirt,” suggested Willow.
Fifteen minutes of sulphuric smells later, Faith and Illyria were each cutting two umbilical cords, and Willow was practically glowing with pride as though she had been fully responsible for the miracle she was witnessing.
“You are proud parents of four very healthy, very happy, very fat and… well, blue baby daughters!” she announced.
Four tiny throats opened and started to cry.
“They’ll need to listen to their… well, daddy’s heartbeat, so you’ll have to rotate them. You should also try to feed them. Actually, if you’ve decided who is to nurse them, I know this amazing spell for multiple nipples…”
Wesley shuddered.
“They will be nursed by persons with bottles, thank you for your kind offer.”
They said their goodbyes. Four little miracles were held and carried around, and they latched onto four bottles of warm, protein-enriched baby formula.
Wesley held the palest blue one close to his chest. She had tiny fingers, huge blue eyes and chubby cheeks.
“They’re beautiful,” Faith whispered. “I mean, they look completely weird with this blue hue, and all wrinkly, but they’re also really cute.”
“My progeny’s quality satisfies me,” agreed Illyria, letting one of her daughters try to grab her finger with her tiny hands.
Faith startled.
“I completely forgot to ask Willow when you can have sex again, Wesley!”
He scowled.
“I suppose as soon as my vagina heals, Faith.”
*~*~*
The first month after the babies were born passed in a whirl of feeding, washing and calming down the babies. There were four of them and only three of the parents; Wesley had never felt so strongly about finding another person – or possibly five – to join their relationship.
“We could cast love spells on unsuspecting victims,” he suggested, “or just kidnap illegal immigrants.”
They had a demon nurse come by every second day to help them, and Illyria used her temporal manipulations to help the three of them get a couple of hours of sleep every now and then. It was still unbelievably difficult; almost as difficult as organizing the naming ceremony.
Thank goodness there was enough babies to warrant eight Earth parents (they briefly considered giving each baby three of these, but decided that enough is enough), because choosing just two would have doubtlessly resulted in blood feuds. It was complicated enough agreeing on four names. Wesley felt quite bitter about the women’s reaction to his suggestions of “Antigone” and “Dolores”, his grandmothers’ names. Faith promised to refer to him as “Isolde” for the rest of his days if he even tried to argue, and then suggested “Christabel”. Even Illyria considered that one inhumane.
The babies appeared to be almost identical for the first couple of days, but soon the parents were able to tell them apart quite easily.
When Louise cried for too long, she would sometimes inadvertently open tiny portals into dimensions filled with either milk or soup. The tidying up was awful; Wesley never complained, however, since at least she hadn’t experimented with her powers while in the womb. He would have been none too pleased had she accidentally vanished one of his kidneys.
Pia and Sophia weren’t playing with timespace continuum yet, though there was nothing to suggest they wouldn’t at some later point; for now, they were simply more interested in devouring large quantities of food as well as in lifting heavy objects with their feet.
They also tried to stake their teddy bears with their tiny rattles. Faith’s boastfulness about her genes was unbearable.
Téa was born paler than her sisters, and became even whiter with time. Her hair had a bluish tinge, but most of the time appeared to be dark brown. In a certain light, she could almost pass for a regular human; moreover, she didn’t seem to be fascinated with either weaponry or magic. She kept demanding to be carried around near the bookcases. He once let her hold a book, but she promptly slobbered all over the cover.
Being a proud father agreed with him. He was almost happy enough not to get upset over the pregnancy pounds he still couldn’t lose.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-13 12:01 pm (UTC)“I completely forgot to ask Willow when you can have sex again, Wesley!”
He scowled.
“I suppose as soon as my vagina heals, Faith.”
XDDD
The first month after the babies were born passed in a whirl of feeding, washing and calming down the babies. There were four of them and only three of the parents; Wesley had never felt so strongly about finding another person – or possibly five – to join their relationship.
Awww XDDD Big Love z Wesleyem, Faith i Illyrią, to bym sobie pooglądała XD
When Louise cried for too long, she would sometimes inadvertently open tiny portals into dimensions filled with either milk or soup.
SRSLY XDDD
More! ♥
(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-13 12:08 pm (UTC)also, louise who opens portals to dimensions with milk an soup is the awesomest thing ever. supportive willow for the win! but my favourtie line is “I suppose as soon as my vagina heals, Faith."
you are brilliant!
(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-13 01:06 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-13 02:38 pm (UTC)“I completely forgot to ask Willow when you can have sex again, Wesley!”
He scowled.
“I suppose as soon as my vagina heals, Faith.”
XDDDD Wesley's mangina XDDDDDDD
It's a good thing the kid can't read English because I could read this chapter while talking to her.
Worst nanny ever(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-13 03:18 pm (UTC)Wesley bit back a comment about letting, consent and dictatorships.
\o/
“My progeny’s quality satisfies me,” agreed Illyria, letting one of her daughters try to grab her finger with her tiny hands.
AWWWW.
The whole part with descriptions of each baby's behaviour is just unbearably cute ♥
And they are BLUE AND ROUND :D :D :D
(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-25 10:31 pm (UTC)Lol. It's so true that it's almost sad.
This line about Wesley's vagina is one of the best lines in this fic. Or ever.
Wesley had never felt so strongly about finding another person – or possibly five – to join their relationship.
“We could cast love spells on unsuspecting victims,” he suggested, “or just kidnap illegal immigrants."
Loooool XD Poor Wes XD
Also, I love Willow here. She's absolutely awesome.
The best part. And names for babies <3