PreggyHux

@preggyhux

Day 8 - @preggyhux - Free Day (Clydeland)

Saturday night. Actually, early Sunday morning. With the last the last call patrons out the door and in Fish Bang's Uber, Clyde Logan turns off the neon OPEN sign and locks the door of Duck Tape Bar & Grill.

Stensland, still parked in the corner stool he's come to call his, slurps up the dregs of his strawberry rocks margarita. "Feckin' busy tonight, huh?"

"Yeah." Clyde takes the empty and sets in the dirty bin for tomorrow's shift. He's kept Stens here under the pretense of drying him out before he gets in his car. Fact is, Clyde went light on the booze in all of Stens's margaritas tonight. The last one was a virgin, but he's not charging full price for any of them. He's wanted Stens since the day the met and this is the night.

When he takes Stens on the back pool table, he'll do it with the cute ginger's consent.

"How about some coffee before you go?" Clyde brewed a pot to keep up the ruse.

"Maybe a Sprite instead? Something without caffeine."

Clyde slides over a bowl of pretzels. "Better eat something to help you then," he says, then fixes the drink. He spies the words scrolling on Stens's phone screen. "Whatcha reading?"

"Clickbait, but it's a sweet story if it's true." Stens shows him the article. "These scientists in New England think they've come up with a way to impregnate men. Can you believe it?"

Clyde's prosthetic forearm is giving him fits. He removes it and sets it aside before wiping down the bar with his good hand. "Well, I've heard about some transmen who were able to carry to term, so I guess I can."

Stens hums, then sets down his phone and sips his Sprite. "Would you want to get pregnant?" he asks. "Say you were able to."

Clyde thinks a moment, then says no. "I wouldn't mind having a family, but I think I'd drive everybody at the bar nuts with my mood swings."

"I'd love it myself."

Clyde looks up from the bar. Stens is pink and giddy, and arranging pretzel sticks in a tic-tac-toe pattern.

"The idea of carrying a living being inside you, a tiny copy of yourself," he's saying, "and feeling it move around and kick... I don't know. There's something romantic in it, Clyde. I'd love for my husband to pamper me and nurse me through the morning sickness."

Clyde drops the rag.

"I want to enjoy weird food cravings like maple syrup on my strawberry scones, or late night pepperoni rolls," Stens says. "I want my husband to rub cocoa butter on my stretching tummy and give me back rubs and... oh!"

Clyde's standing next to Stens now, and sure as hell Stens can see the bulge in his black jeans. Clyde isn't sure they'll make it to the pool table. The nearest booth will have to do.

"You'd like that, huh?" he asks.

Stens is breathless when he says yes.

"How about we try?"

"I-I don't know that..." But Stens isn't protesting when Clyde leads him to the booth and helps remove Sten's cargo pants. Nor when Clyde's grasping him by the hips and eating him out. Nor when Clyde guides him to brace against the table and the back of the booth for an easier bounce up and down on Clyde's cock.

Day 7 - @preggyhux - Keepsakes

cw - mention of departed off-screen character

"What are these boxes?"

"Captain Phasma's personal effects. These are to be shipped to her family on Parnassos. But this..."

Hux moves the smallest box closer to him.

"She left this one to me."

Kylo moves to stand over Hux as he pries open the lid. There's a sealed handwritten letter, which Hux will read later. A brooch in the shape of a beetle, an inside joke he'll explain to Kylo one day. Medals of bravery and merit. A knit pink cloth in which are wrapped a pair of tiny shoes.

"Are those hers?" Kylo asks, his voice light. "As in, she wore them as a child?"

"I suppose."

"Difficult to imagine Phasma as a baby."

Hux settles back in his chair and rubs his hand over his swollen belly. Their child was active all through the sleep cycle but now rests. Contrary and obstinate, like her sire. "I could say the same for any of us," Hux says, "but it's a lovely parting gift and they've held up well. I'll use them."

"We can buy our child as many shoes as she wants." Kylo huffs. "All the toys and holos."

"It's different when they're handed down, Ren. What I wouldn't give to have something of my own childhood to pass along to her." If he had, though, would he allow it? Hux didn't have the indulgent childhood Kylo once enjoyed and now scorns. The son of a princess and a war hero wanted for nothing.

Kylo vanishes from his side. As Hux removes the shoes and sets aside the box he thinks of making tea when the knight reappears, holding something.

"She can have this as well," Kylo says.

Hux takes the stuffed animal. It's a Wookiee, he thinks. Hard to tell because the fur is matted in places and threadbare in others. This toy had been well loved once. Still, if the fact Kylo held onto it provides a clue.

"Chewie gave it to me," Kylo says, patting its head with his gloved hand. "I only remembered I still had it."

Hux sideeyes him. "Of course." He beckons Kylo closer and kisses him. "She will love it as well. Thank you."

Day 5 - @preggyhux - Body Worship

He can't say exactly which of them is the biological father. Most days, he can't get their names straight, and to their credit they take his confusion with good humor.

General Armitage Hux isn't certain why six rogue warriors chose him as the object of their affection. He suspects the Knights of Ren came to agreement for the purpose of annoying their former leader. The enmity between Hux and Kylo Ren generates enough heat to power a Death Star, and the more Hux thinks about it he's willing to play along. If his indulging in multiple paramours nettles under the new Supreme Leader's helmet like Tattooine sand under fingernails, it's worth the nights of being scuttled from lap to lap to lap and made to bounce and grind.

Yet the one cycle he got sick, unable to hold his rations, six pairs of hands caressed his fevered skin and spoon fed him broth. Six bodies escorted him to the nearest medbay when the bedrest failed to improve him. Six mouths gasped, then murmured their pleasure at the news.

Over the course of several standard months, six bloodthirsty soldiers who once delivered the charred armor of First Order enemies as tributes wait on him hand and foot. They monitor his vitals and consult with the med droids over his supplements and amniotic test results. They hide the sugary rations he craves and serve him bowls of jogan fruit. They run interference every time Kylo Ren storms his quarters.

Then at night... at night...

Six grown men argue over who gets to rub the salve over his stretch marks, and massage his swollen ankles and throbbing temples. Six pairs of lips hum their blessings against Hux's growing belly and leave kisses for the sleeping child. Six bodies shuffle for comfort and surround him, their rough snoring a surprising comfort.

Day 4 - @preggyhux - Omegaverse

Of all the moments to go into heat. Right in the midst of his trial.

One second the former General Armitage Hux was standing before the triumvirate, looking bored as the litany of charges against him were read. The next, he'd torn free of his wrist binders and ripped at his clothes, desperate for any scrap to build his nest. Right there on the cold durasteel floor.

The senators presiding over the trial called for med-droids to evacuate the prisoner. General Poe Dameron stepped forward.

"I got it," he said and inhaled. Taking in the scent of seawater and sand. His gland throbbed and his inner Alpha cried out to mate immediately. Why pile on to an already precarious situation, though? Poe knew he had to secret away the general before another Alpha within sniffing distance pounced.

He ignored the shouts of protest as he lifted Hux into a bridal carry and hoofed it to the nearest interrogation room. He ignored the heat of Hux's skin against his, and the slick dripping through Hux's jodhpurs and soaking his shirt. He wouldn't be wearing it much longer.

Inside the first empty room, Poe set Hux on the floor and locked the door. "Take what you need, Omega," he said as he stripped with great speed. He took his comm out of his trousers pocket before tossing it into Hux's lopsided nest. "Whatever we're missing, I'll have Finn deliver it."

Hux glared at him but continued arranging the discarded clothing. "You think the traitor will comply when he learns you're consorting with the enemy?" he asked, his voice raw. "Mind you, I still have to consen..."

He then cried out, presumably from another wave of pain. Poe's body twitched in response, hearing the call to hurry up and knot this shivering, beautiful man.

"Finn's not my mate," Poe said, lowering himself into the nest, "and this is mating, not consorting. Consorting, you leave right after. I'm in it for the long haul."

"Why?"

Poe nosed the reddening gland on Hux's neck, drawing out a low moan. "Nobody smells like you, and nobody's scent has ever driven me like this. Hux, just say yes so we can breed a pack of red-haired pups."

Day 4 - @preggyhux - Omegaverse

Of all the moments to go into heat. Right in the midst of his trial.

One second the former General Armitage Hux was standing before the triumvirate, looking bored as the litany of charges against him were read. The next, he'd torn free of his wrist binders and ripped at his clothes, desperate for any scrap to build his nest. Right there on the cold durasteel floor.

The senators presiding over the trial called for med-droids to evacuate the prisoner. General Poe Dameron stepped forward.

"I got it," he said and inhaled. Taking in the scent of seawater and sand. His gland throbbed and his inner Alpha cried out to mate immediately. Why pile on to an already precarious situation, though? Poe knew he had to secret away the general before another Alpha within sniffing distance pounced.

He ignored the shouts of protest as he lifted Hux into a bridal carry and hoofed it to the nearest interrogation room. He ignored the heat of Hux's skin against his, and the slick dripping through Hux's jodhpurs and soaking his shirt. He wouldn't be wearing it much longer.

Inside the first empty room, Poe set Hux on the floor and locked the door. "Take what you need, Omega," he said as he stripped with great speed. He took his comm out of his trousers pocket before tossing it into Hux's lopsided nest. "Whatever we're missing, I'll have Finn deliver it."

Hux glared at him but continued arranging the discarded clothing. "You think the traitor will comply when he learns you're consorting with the enemy?" he asked, his voice raw. "Mind you, I still have to consen..."

He then cried out, presumably from another wave of pain. Poe's body twitched in response, hearing the call to hurry up and knot this shivering, beautiful man.

"Finn's not my mate," Poe said, lowering himself into the nest, "and this is mating, not consorting. Consorting, you leave right after. I'm in it for the long haul."

"Why?"

Poe nosed the reddening gland on Hux's neck, drawing out a low moan. "Nobody smells like you, and nobody's scent has ever driven me like this. Hux, just say yes so we can breed a pack of red-haired pups."

Day 3 - @preggyhux - Hidden Pregnancy cw - death penalty, nausea

Something was off about the prisoner.

It wasn't the former First Order general's desire to die. Since his apprehension, Armitage Hux made it known to everybody within earshot that he would not appeal such a punishment. Commander Rose Tico, charged with acting a legal counsel to all prisoners, received the brunt of Hux's diatribes. She'd learned to tune out his voice but not his actions.

He gave much attention to his abdomen, constantly pressing his hand there as though stifling gas or massaging his disgestive organs. The latter she'd understand - the food in the mess hadn't improved much since the war's end. Nonetheless, Hux ate more than his fair share of it.

More than once Poe would slide his leftovers onto the plate Rose brought to the holding cells. "If he can stomach it, he can have it."

Poe never saw the aftermath of his generosity, how Hux fought waves of nausea yet still ate. How, when he crossed his legs on his cot, his trousers pulled up enough to reveal swollen ankles.

The damp spots on his tunic, smack at nipple height.

The day before his sentencing, Rose asked him, "Are you pregnant? Don't lie. I know it's possible if you're carrying more than Arkanian DNA."

Hux opened his mouth as though to deny it, but froze. Shocking, and sad, to think he'd accept a death sentence while responsible for a new life.

"The sire?" she asked.

"Dead." Hux looked away. "It wasn't Ren, for the record."

"If you're sentenced I'll appeal it. The Republic won't execute you in this condition, or afterward."

Hux scoffed. "They wouldn't let me keep the child," he said. Rose didn't miss the possessive hands cradling the bump he revealed. "They'll send her off Force knows where."

Her. A girl. "They will if I vouch for you." Rose took his hand and squeezed it. "And if I stay and help you raise her."

Hux's liquid gaze locked with hers. "Why would you?"

Day 2 - @preggyhux - Weird Cravings cw - pregnancy, food

"Great shot, kid. One in a million."

As a child, Ben heard the story from the grown-ups of how his Uncle Luke felled the Death Star, how Ben's father facilitated the one in a million shot with a preceding shot elsewhere. Ben grew up wondering if he'd ever have a chance at a one in a million shot himself.

Were his father still around, he'd ask if impregnating his girlfriend and boyfriend on the same night counted.

One in a million odds... sure, kid. But unless that drop of Solo gold bounced from place to place, that's two shots.

Six months after the fact, Ben shook Han's voice from his head and yawned through the latest craving call. Of all things, polystarch portion bread. Dehydrated polystarch, leftovers from Empire mess kits, mixed with tap water. When they lived two blocks from the best bakery in Chandrila's capital.

He watched twin puffs of dough rise and solidify in their plates. Assembled a variety of butters and jams on a third. No fancy presentations, since they overlooked his last attempt fighting over the lone dollop of jogan fruit preserves. He sent up a prayer to everyone in the Force and carried the tray out the den where his nesting paramours had set up camp amid their fluffy blankets and prime viewing of the holo.

He reared back quickly so as to avoid scratches. Again. Then he settled in his chair with a drink and watched the show. The one on the sofa.

Rey scarfed down half her loaf in two bites. Hux applied every flavor of jam on a different part of the rind before eating, and moaned as he chewed. "You've outdone yourself."

"I mixed polystarch and water," Ben said.

"It's just like the bread on Jakku," Rey said.

Ben sipped his drink. "That's because it is. I have enough to get you both through this."

"Yeah." Rey chewed. "How did you get Plutt to give up so many portions?"

"I traded BB-8."

They stopped eating, staring at him.

Ben put a finger to his lips. "Don't tell Poe."