Whoops...

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Requested by maddy123499m2 and Melo_aka_chopper (you two are lucky I'm a sucker for Mpreg FR)

Note: Stolas does not naturally have a dick, he has a cloaca, he uses magic to give himself a dick sometimes when he's *ahem* having fun with Blitzø, and so that's how he got Blitzø pregnant.

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Blitzø walked into the office, carrying a bottle of ginger ale instead of his usual cup of coffee because he'd been throwing up all morning. Loona had showed concern, but Blitzø shrugged it off as a stomach bug and went into work anyway, despite feeling like absolute shit.

"Hey, Moxxie, got that paperwork--" Blitzø was cut off by his own gagging as he quickly grabbed a trash can and puked. "--done yet?"

"Are you okay, sir?" Moxxie asks, worried. He had never seen his boss this sick before, well except for a couple times he came into work hungover.

"Oh, I'm fine. Nothing a few good murders won't fix, let's hit the road!" Blitzø says, reaching for the book. Loona grabbed it before he could, standing with arms folded. "Young lady, you give that back this instant!"

"You're sick, Dad. You should go home and get some rest. I shouldn't have let you even come in here today." Loona says, opening a portal to the apartment, and Blitzø couldn't even deny that he felt miserable.

"Fine, but...as soon as I'm not throwing up anymore, it's murder time!" Blitzø says, stomping through the portal like a petulant toddler. He flopped onto the couch with a groan, holding his middle, which had been sore and bloated all day. "Christ on a stick..."

He decided to text Stolas, complaining about how shitty he felt, and the prince quickly arrived through a portal without Blitzø even having to ask.

"Oh, Blitzy. I'm so sorry you're not feeling well." Stolas says, sitting beside the imp on his ratty old couch. Blitzø curled up in the prince's arms with a little groan, and as soon as Stolas' hand made contact with the imp's belly, he felt something...strange. "Blitzy..." Stolas says, giving him an odd look.

"What is it, birdbrain?" Blitzø asks, snuggling into his feathers.

"You're probably not going to believe this, but...I believe you may be pregnant." Stolas says in disbelief, and the imp just stared at him in utter shock.

Blitzø placed a hand over his belly, feeling the small firm bump about the size of a baseball in his lower abdomen. Confusion turned to utter disbelief and then absolute terror as he started hyperventilating, going into a panic. "No, no, no...this cannot be happening, how the FUCK--"

"Blitzy, please just calm down, it's okay. Can we just talk about this--"

"Talk about this? Talk about what?! The fact that you put your fucking...whatever the hell this thing is, inside me?! The fact that I'm not even sure I can carry your giant ass baby inside me without it popping me like a damn balloon?!" Blitzø yelled, pacing the apartment now as he gripped his head in fear.

"Blitzø, get ahold of yourself, for fuck's sake!" Stolas snapped, and the imp went silent. "Blitzø, you are not going to...pop. You're going to have our baby. Isn't that wonderful, darling?" Stolas says softly, kneeling before the imp and placing a softly glowing hand on his tiny bump. "It's so small. Like an imp sized Goetia."

"Is that a bad thing?" Blitzø asks, worried.

"Of course not. It just means this won't be a difficult pregnancy at all." Stolas says, cupping Blitzø's face. "I love you so much, my precious Blitzy."

"I love you too, birdbrain." Blitzø says, his heart fluttering as Stolas scooped him up and laid them back on the couch.

-Nine Months Later-

Blitzø was in the bed he now shared with Stolas in the palace, holding his newborn son in his arms. The fluffball was only about three hours old, but Blitzø still couldn't believe he was real.

"Here's your tea, Blitzy." Stolas says, setting the cup of tea on the bedside table. "How are my two favorite boys doing?"

"He's doing great, definitely taking after old pops here already." Blitzø says, looking at his son with nothing but love and wonder in his eyes.

"And you?" Stolas asks, placing a hand on Blitzø's arm.

"Tired. The fucking C-section is a lot harder than they make it sound." Blitzø says, fighting the urge to scratch at where his abdomen was sewn shut. He was never going to forget this day, not just because it was the day of his son's birth, but because of the white curved scar he'd have on his abdomen from one hip to the other, it's peak at his navel.

"Are you worried about the scar?" Stolas asks. "You know I could never think of you differently, my darling. And I'll always find you attractive, no matter how many scars and marks you have."

"I'm one lucky son of a bitch, aren't I?" Blitzø says softly.

"The luckiest."

^¥^

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