#mpreg!ford

Ford had left Dimension 88*), not wanting Bill to take his anger out on the kind beings there for housing him. Instead, he waited at a small bar that sat between space and time, nursing a glass of water in a tight booth situated in the corner. He’d given his once-Muse instructions to meet him there - that he had news relevant to the demon. News that Bill would want to hear himself.

So, when a flaming pink woman sat down across from him at the booth, smirk stretched across her wide lips, he was… more than a bit startled.

“Pyronica,” she introduced herself, though she didn’t hold a hand out to shake. From the heat pouring off her, Ford figured she knew it was unsafe to touch him. “And you must be Billy’s little beau!” At the glare leveled at her, she merely giggled. “Oh, don’t be that way! Bill’s dealing with a little… Well, I don’t wanna call it a full-blown revolt, cause it’s not a super bunch of assholes, mostly cause everyone knows better than to fuck with Bill!” She grinned light-heartedly. “He’s just massacring some lackeys who wanted to overthrow him. No biggie! He wanted the place cleaned up before you got there, sweet cheeks!”

With a shrug and one more giggle, she stood up once more, motioning for Ford to lead the way out. The human huffed quietly in irritation before following in her lead, then stepping quickly outside.

Ford had long-since slammed a hand over his mouth, and tumbled out of the car once Pyronica had stopped inside of the unrealistically gigantic pyramid. He was forced onto his hands and knees, dry-heaving as he tried to steady the spinning of his vision.

“Whew,” Pyronica whistled as she came around from the other side, a brow raised in what might have been concern. “I didn’t think humans were so fragile!”

“We’re not,” Ford growled, swiping an arm across his mouth before managing to shakily stand. “I’ve just-” he stopped himself before he accidentally spilled the secret. “Got a sensitive stomach,” he finished lamely. Pyronica stared at him a moment longer before shrugging and motioning for the human to follow her.

They walked through winding halls and gaping holes, halls that looked long far too short, and steps that looked like they went down going up. This entire place was a mind-fuck, Ford quickly decided, aggravation roiling in his stomach. It took them too long (or was it only a few seconds?) to reach the main hall, where Bill sat upon a pure-black throne.

He watched them approach, eye widening and pupil constricting the closer Ford got. Finally, when he was only about halfway there, Bill suddenly lifted off the throne and began approaching them, hovering over faster when Ford stopped uncertainly. The human opened his mouth to… ask something, he thought, but Bill’s silken hands were suddenly cupping his cheeks, trembling as they brushed over the rosy skin.

“It took,” he whispered reverently, staring at Ford like he was the most precious thing in the entire multiverse. The human flushed, not wanting to fall for such cheap tricks again, but a large, unwanted, part of him relaxed under his Muse’s soft caress. He didn’t even notice his eyes had fluttered shut until firm, but not tight (never tight enough), arms had wrapped around his middle, and yet more had moved to carefully run through his hair.

A soft whimper left his lips unwillingly.

“You are marvelous,” Bill leaned forward, as though to whisper in Ford’s ear. It sent a rapturous shiver down the scientist’s spine. “A wonder, a gift, a treasure. My Fordsy, the greatest mind of all humanity, lesser by only my own in the entire multiverse, my IQ, my Sixer, my Poindexter, my Brainiac, my Starshine.” That last one was new, Ford blearily thought. It was a wonder he could even put that thought together - he’d already failed to notice they now hovered a few meters off the ground. “The most exceptional creature to ever exist!”

Ford… didn’t want to think about the tightness in his pants as Bill’s praises washed over him, and how he soaked them in like a flower tilting into the sun. He lifted his hands and wrapped them tightly around Bill’s sides, desperate for a grounding touch.

“You come to me willingly, and carrying my child.” Ford felt a tongue slide up along his jaw, and his mouth fell open in instinctive anticipation of what came next. As always, he was right, and the silvery appendage slipped into his mouth, lips meeting his own only when Bill’s tongue had plunged half-way down Ford’s throat. “I knew it had to be you, from the moment I laid eye on you, Six.” Was it Ford or did Bill sound out of breath? “You, only you, could ever bring me the family I so desperately wanted.” More flattery? More lies? For whatever reason, however, these words felt… more genuine. “Mine, mine, mine!”

The next few hours were a blur, with Bill transporting them somewhere else in the pyramid and coiling around his human until all Ford could see, hear, smell, was Bill. And loathe as he was to admit it… he loved it. It was like a cooling balm on his tattered soul, his Muse’s attention and praises.

Coming back to awareness was like surfacing after dunking your head into a warm bath: refreshing, pleasantly heated, clean. Ford blinked as he took in the black silk sheets that were wrapped around his nude body, scrubbed spotless from the dust and dirt of the road. Looking at his stomach, he could see the smallest swell as he was laying down, a visible reminder of the thing that was growing inside him. The bed he was curled in was heavenly, soft and firm and wow did Bill know how to treat a guy who had been sleeping on wooden cots and sides of the road.

“My dearest, darlingest cupcake!”

The voice sent competing sensations of elation and dread through his body. Ford chose to listen to the latter and plastered a scowl on his face as he turned to his side and saw Bill had apparently floated through a closed door. Why the door was even there if he could just do that was a question for another time.

“Bill,” the scientist muttered, trying to keep the warmth out of his voice. He failed, if the way Bill’s eye curled into a smile was any indication.

“So beautiful,” Bill hummed as he flew to the bed, immediately sinking a hand into Ford’s hair to pet the human. Ford would deny the way he leaned into the touch. “The most gorgeous creature I’ve ever seen - and I’m including myself in that!” Ford would also deny the chuckle that escaped him.

Moses, what was wrong with him?!

“I’m so glad you came back, IQ,” Bill set down on the bed beside his human, taking Ford’s hand with his unoccupied one. “When you refused to talk to me, I… I had a bit of a breakdown. But! All is forgiven!” When Ford opened his mouth to refute this, a third hand made itself known by slamming itself over said mouth. “All. Is. Forgiven.” The manic glint to Bill’s eye had Ford slowly nodding, knowing exactly what he risked if he angered the megalomaniacal triangle. “So, you know I’ve been wanting to talk for a while! And it’s sort of about why I actually wanted the portal opened.”

“You told me all about why you wanted it opened,” Ford glared dangerously once the hand over his mouth was removed, reminded of all the cruel words that had been thrown his way by his beloved God.

“Yeah, well, I panicked!” Bill threw two extra arms up for emphasis, the other three occupied with petting various parts of the human lain out before him. “I don’t say the nicest things when I panic! It’s why I wanted to talk - to clear things up! See, while I did want to turn your dimension into an endless party, it’s something I’m more than willing to negotiate over. The actual reason is, well…” Bill looked away, as though he did not want to admit the next part. “The Nightmare Realm is collapsing in on itself, and the only way to stabilize it is to link it to another dimension. Yours happens to be the closest one with the thinnest barrier, meaning it’s a lot easier to punch through it.”

Ford blinked a few times, stunned at the - at least what appeared to be - honest admission. “Why don’t you just create the portal yourself, then?” he asked as he propped himself up slightly on his forearm.

“Ha!” Bill cackled, lifting up and hovering just off the bed. “Not how it works, Kitten.” He leaned forward as he landed once more, eye now curved into a smirk. “The only way a portal out of the Nightmare Realm is made is by creating a portal into it from another dimension. It’s basically a self-locking door. And there’s only a handful of dimensions that are compatible enough with it to create a permanent portal that would allow this place to stabilize.”

“Why… why didn’t you just tell me that?” Ford asked with a quiet kind of awe at the stupidity of Bill’s silence on the matter. Bill, meanwhile, merely gave him a flat look, as though it were obvious. “I would have loved to do that!”

Bill went a bit limp at that, blinking rapidly at his human, arms going still and noodle-y. “…you’re not even lying, are you?” the demonic triangle asked with soft awe. “I can’t- I don’t- No human has ever-”

Ford groaned softly as he reached forward, throwing his arms around his triangle and pulling him flush against his bared chest. He hid a smile in his pillow when he noticed Bill going pale at the contact - fully aware it was the demon’s version of a flush. “And what have you repeatedly told me about myself?” he asked softly, amusement finally flooding his tone.

“You are the most brilliant human to ever exist,” Bill whispered reverently, arms tightening once more around his human. They laid there for long, content moments, Ford trying to find some kind of comfort in Bill’s mistake. The human wasn’t, however, expecting the tiny, “I’m sorry,” Bill uttered with soft passion. The scientist didn’t know when he began to shake, exactly, but he quickly curled rigidly around the triangle as tears gathered and fell from his eyes, desperate gasps for breath interrupting wailing sobs. He’d not allowed himself a moment to finally break down - to absorb everything Bill had put him through. There hadn’t been time.

Now, wrapped within Bill’s coils of arms, hands petting his hair and face and back, whispered apologies echoing in his ears… He hated how safe he felt. How warm and lovely the echo of Bill’s words were - even if they might all be lies. Well… he wanted to hate it. The solace that was offered selflessly by the cruel, demanding entity was like an addiction, laying heavy and sweet on his tongue. How could he possibly deny the aching void inside of him that hit of relief.

“Nothing and no one will ever lay a hand on you, Sixer,” Bill swore to him in their soft cocoon. “Not so long as I exist.”

Ford couldn’t help the tiny, wet laugh that escaped him. “Just tell me this is all going to be okay, Bill,” he brokenly begged, voice wrecked by his cries. “Please, just… I need to hear that.”

There was a certain discomfort with his reality that left Ford on edge these days. Yes, he’d made up with Bill. Yes, Bill had undone all the physical damage Ford had sustained. Yes, he was safe and protected by some of the most powerful and dangerous beings in the multiverse. Yes, he now had limited access to Bill’s powers!

But he was carrying a child inside himself. Not just that, but he was carrying a child that was half Euclidean - a species that had been eradicated nearly one trillion years ago. Well, aside from his Muse. But seeing as how Bill had only been sixteen when the massacre had happened, he had only a basic grasp on his own species’ biological and reproductive functions. And with Ford having a three-dimensional form, even that limited knowledge could very likely be useless!

So, he became quite used to the ball of anxiety that constantly swirled in his gut, treating it as just another of the paranoid fears he’d developed thanks to Bill.

(They didn’t talk about those. The months after their falling-out were a forbidden subject in the Fearamid. Paci-Fire had been forgetful enough to bring up the incident at O’Sadley’s - and wow had that information left Ford feeling a lot more secure about Bill’s feelings for him - and had been banished to the plane of endless hangnails for a week straight.)

The aches and pains were the most worrisome for Ford, honestly, though he was fairly certain that those were normal for humans (they had been for his mother while she was pregnant with Shermie). And if that wasn’t enough, the hormones had hit only a few weeks after he’d begun his stay in the Fearamid. According to Bill, Ford was around seven months along at that point, which had left the human worried for how small his stomach still was - until Bill told him that Euclidean pregnancies lasted two full years.

He… he was really hoping it ended up being a more human-length pregnancy.

“Time sand,” Ford muttered from where he was stretched out across the lounger Bill had put in next to his throne. The demon still had duties to attend to as King of the Nightmare Realm, but he’d been insistent that Ford stay near him at all times.

“Hm?” Bill hummed as he quietly flipped to the next page of the recent incident reports from the various rifts that constantly opened and closed in the dimension.

“I’m craving time sand,” Ford clarified, glaring up at the roof of the throne room with a simmering annoyance.

“You can’t have time sand, IQ,” Bill didn’t even bother looking at his human as the old argument began once again. “We have repeatedly been over this. I don’t care how much you’re craving it, we don’t know how it would react with your pregnancy. And we can’t take chances.”

“But I want it!” Ford turned onto his side to whine pitifully at his Muse, sticking his lower lip out in a pout. “You’re the one who said I can have anything I want!”

Bill sighed as he shut his eye, massaging the lid as though he were massaging his temples. “Fordsy, light of my life, center of my galaxy, moon to my sun,” he turned to finally look down at his human, his eye tired but adoring. “You cannot have time sand. How about a calendula salad with some wasp honey and mayo?”

Ford stared at Bill for a silent moment, pout still in place and eyes narrowed. “Fine!” he finally moaned, drawing out the word as he reluctantly admitted defeat. “But the honey better be fresh!”

Bill chuckled as he lifted off the throne, floating down to Ford’s side and pulled his human up into a bridal carry. “For you? Always,” his eye narrowed in a smile. Ford returned the expression as he nuzzled against his Muse’s bricks, humming in contentment as the demon phased them through the roof and into the penthouse of the Fearamid. He deposited the scientist at the dining table just outside the kitchen - all of which he’d created specifically for his human.

(The incident that had lead to this was also not talked about. But Bill had quickly limited Ford’s access to the demon’s powers after it.)

“You want everything cut up for you again?” Bill asked with infinite patience as he snapped a ‘Kiss the King’ apron into existence, tying it around his angles with practiced movements. Ford hummed in affirmation, nodding his head before he laid it on top of his arms on the table. Glancing to him once before turning to the fridge and pulling out his ingredients, Bill couldn’t help the warmth that flooded his insides at the sight of his human swollen with the triangle’s child.

He’d never thought himself an overly sentimental being. No, he’d always been more prone to cruelty for amusements sake, if anything. But the sight of his Sixer, calm and comfortable within his grasp, belly growing bigger by the day, had ignited something inside of him. He didn’t remember Euclydia that well, most of the memories covered in static and fire, but he did remember that they partnered for life. Once one of a pair was pregnant, a biological change happened with the two shapes that allowed for an emotional connection well beyond that of mere ‘love’.