There’s just something about pregnant sex that Blake can’t seem to get enough of.

It’s the hormones, she reasons while sitting on the living room couch, staring out the front window and nibbling on her nails. Or maybe it’s the way Yang has been acting: gentle caresses over her swollen belly, the look of content while she laps at Blake’s sensitive, darkened nipples. And that stupid little smirk whenever Blake begs for more, even though she’s already come twice.

Yang had always been an attentive lover, but over the last four months (especially since she’d started showing), she had been determined to satisfy every single one of Blake’s needs—sexual or otherwise.

The sound of Yang’s bike pulling into the driveway brings Blake out of her thoughts, ears swivelling towards the noise as she shifts in her seat. She’d been more... agitated than usual today, and not even reading in the bath had relaxed her. Her skin had been tingling, every nerve like an exposed wire, crackling and snapping beneath the surface. The only thing that had seemed to subdue her was curling into the corner of the couch and waiting for her girlfriend to come home. She was in one of Yang’s dirty gym hoodies, and while the scent calmed her twitching fingers, her heart should skip every time she buried her nose into the collar.

As soon as Yang kicks the door open—already shedding her jacket and throwing her helmet by the door—Blake leaps from the couch and tangles herself into Yang’s arms, nuzzling into her neck where the scent of lavender and sandalwood is strongest.

“Hey, kitten,” Yang beams, wrapping a free arm around Blake while shrugging her jacket off the other.

“I missed you,” Blake says, small purr working its way up through her chest.

“I’ve only been gone a few hours.” Yang drops her jacket to the floor and wraps Blake up into a bear hug. She places a kiss between her felid ears while both hands drop to the curve of Blake’s lower back. She pulls away slightly, hands ghosting around Blake’s middle to run the width of her expanding belly.

“How’s jellybean this morning?” she asks, thumb running over the bump of her bellybutton.

“Quiet,” Blake answers, fingers curling into Yang’s shirt. “I guess he doesn’t take after you,” she smirks, playful ambers dancing behind long lashes.

“That’s probably a good thing,” Yang grins, hands slowly drifting upwards to cup Blake’s breasts. Even over a bra and sweater, her nipples immediately harden into the pads of Yang’s thumbs.

Blake sighs into the touch, hates how something so mild can make her heart skip. Moaning softly, she steps closer as Yang’s thumbs press into her nipples. The light touch sends a jolt down her spine, and she instinctively latches her mouth onto Yang’s neck to silence a whimper.

“Feisty,” Yang smirks, tilting her neck to give Blake’s mouth more room.

“Ssut up,” she mumbles against warm skin, against hot veins that hide just below the peaks of her canines. “I can’t help it.”

“Are we blaming this on hormones again?” Yang asks, nose finding a human ear behind a curtain of black silk. “You better be careful Belladonna, or I might start to think you wanted this child as an excuse to bed me whenever you wanted.”

“Like I ever need an excuse to get you into bed.” Blake scoffs, but it sounds more like a gasp as Yang takes a lobe into her mouth and gives a gentle tug. Her breath is already deep, the sound sending shivers down Blake’s spine.

“You make it sound like I’m the one who’s begging to be fucked,” Yang says.

Blake’s smile widens. Banter has always been a part of their foreplay. It’s a challenge; makes them more competitive and always ends with better orgasms, with lungs that feel like they’ve been purged, hearts that feel full and open. It’s the way Yang stares her down as she eats her out, moans loudly into her cunt, just so Blake can feel the vibrations; the way Blake goads Yang into making more noise, forcing deep, guttural moans with the lines she rakes across damp skin.

“I’m not begging yet,” Blake says, taking a step back and trying to drag Yang along with her, fingers still twisted into the fabric of her shirt. It’s a merger effort intended to convey her need rather than move her lover.

“Yet,” Yang challenges with a smirk. She dips down, fingers curling under Blake’s thighs as she hoists her lover into her arms. Blake’s body instantly curls around Yang, thighs circling her hips.

Her belly makes it awkward, but the smouldering look Blake gives her as Yang carries her down the hall is worth every (any) sort of hindrance.

When they reach the bedroom—door already resting against the rubber stop—Yang throws her onto the bed, more theatrical than rough. Splayed out on her back—it’s too hard to sit up without a core—Blake watches as Yang quickly strips off her own shirt and pants, throwing them one after the other towards the hamper in the corner (she misses). She climbs over Blake, leaving light kisses along the skin as she slides up her body.

She pulls back, grinning as her hands skim along the outside of Blake’s thighs and catching the hem of her dress. Yang lifts it up and over, stripping both dress and sweater with one movement, before dipping down and immediately latching on to a bare nipple. Her breasts had been so tender today that she hadn’t bothered with a bra, and now, she moans in relief, as Yang’s tongue draws gentle laps around the hardened bud.

Blake arches up, weaving her fingers through wavy blonde hair. After a moment, Yang switches to the other nipple, and Blake tries to rub her thighs together to relieve some tension, but Yang’s hips are in the way, her body rested between Blake’s legs while she happily licks and suckles at her lover’s chest.

“Yang,” she whines. She reaches out to unclip Yang’s bra and slips her hands down along the notches of a bare spine. As Blake fidgets, Yang slowly pulls away, leaving a tiny kiss against each nipple before sitting up.

“I want these gone,” Blake answers before Yang can even ask, hands pulling restlessly at the fabric of Yang’s underwear. The look on Yang’s face is somewhere between delighted and amused, but she says nothing as she clambers off the bed to strip the underwear off. Blake wriggles off her own, struggling to reach past her stomach. Yang helps, pulling them off her feet and tossing them aside to pick up later. She leans back again, opening her arms to Yang as they settle against each other.

Yang kisses her, moving over her mouth, along her neck, teasing at her collarbone, but Blake wants something very specific. Her hands curl around muscular thighs, encouraging Yang forward. It takes some tugging before Yang notices her intent, lips ghosting along Blake’s ear as she slowly sits up.

Her eyes are burning red; smile stretched broad across her lips while Blake’s fingers press into the backs of her legs, pulling her hips forward.

“I thought you wanted me to fuck you,” Yang murmurs. She inches forward until her knees are pressing into the pillow on either side of Blake’s head.

“I do. But I want you in my mouth first,” Blake says, and Yang audibly groans at the admission.

Blake doesn’t wait for Yang to lower herself. Instead, she cranes her neck and drags Yang’s hips downward until her mouth presses against Yang’s swollen pussy.

With a single swipe of her tongue, Yang’s back arches as she cants her hips into Blake’s mouth. Now able to relax her neck, Blake starts up an easy rhythm, stroking her tongue up and down the length of Yang’s slit. It’s more teasing than gratifying, but she’s only edging Yang until they’re at the same level. Blake’s been waiting for this all day, after all.

Yang whines and rocks against her mouth, one hand braced against the headboard, the other tangled into Blake’s hair.

Opening her eyes, Blake glances up and locks with fiery irises. Yang, lip tucked firmly between her teeth, tries to control the bucking of her hips. Blake swipes her tongue up and focuses on Yang’s clit, willing her to lose control.

Yang lets out a cry, her fingers tightening in Blake’s hair as her tongue lashes against her sensitive clit. She grinds along with her, and Blake’s own thighs are uncomfortably sticky.

With her left hand still braced against Yang’s ass, her right slips down—nails dragging along Yang’s skin as she goes—and ducks around her swollen stomach, down to the apex of her thighs.

Her fingers immediately circle her clit, and she knows she won’t last very long. Not with how worked up she is. Yang grinding against her tongue, her moans and high-pitched whines driving Blake’s arousal higher and higher.

She’s teetering on the edge, fingers slipping messily against her clit, tongue losing dexterity as she approaches orgasm. To make up for it, Blake opens her mouth wider, works her tongue faster to match the pace of her fingers.

Yang barely beats her to it, her cry piercing through the air as her hips grind frantically against Blake’s face. Blake spreads her tongue flat and lets Yang ride it through, sweet tang smearing over tongue, lips, chin.

Blake’s body snaps like a rubber band, her back arching as she comes, thighs clamping shut around her hand, hips bucking against her fingers as she shudders through each wave of ecstasy.

Yang falls off to the side a second later, out of breath, golden bangs sticking to her skin. Blake wipes her mouth on the back of her hand and rolls onto her side, watching Yang’s chest heave and drop.

Her clit feels sensitive, pinched between her sticky thighs, and she scoots closer— as far as her belly will allow. Yang turns to face her and offers a brilliant smile. She reaches out and skims a palm along the tight skin, wriggles down to press a tender kiss against the bump.

Blake sighs, and a moan slips out before she can stop it. Yang glances up at the sound, eyebrows raised but smile cheeky.

“Not enough, hmm?” She asks as she places a chain of kisses along her belly. Blake swallows, tangles her fingers into Yang’s hair.

“I can’t ever seem to get enough of you,” Blake mumbles, enjoying the affection as Yang slowly makes her way up to her chest.

“I’ll remember you said that when you’re trying to feed a screaming baby and I’m dropping milk puns left right and centre,” she quips, nudging her nose against a pert nipple.

Blake snorts, tugging a little harder than necessary at the strands of hair around her fingers. Yang gives a little nip just under her left breast, then soothes it over with her tongue when Blake grunts in protest.

Yang crawls above her again, leaning in to press a clumsy kiss against Blake’s mouth. Her belly grazes against chiselled abs, and she slides an eager hand upward to run along the prominent muscles.

“How do you want it?” Yang asks as she breaks the kiss. “Do you want my mouth?” She asks, tongue running along Blake’s jugular.

Blake shudders. Yang’s breath against her neck sends goose bumps down her arms.

“I… I want your cock.” Yang pulls away, watches Blake’s eyes as her checks redden with the admission. Yang’s smile stretches broad, but her voice comes out in a breathy whisper, strained with arousal.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Blake exhales.

Yang makes quick work of fishing out their harness from a box of toys under the bed. A dark purple (almost black) feeldoe fits through the opening, and Yang slides it up her legs, eyes locking with Blake as she slips the inner phallus inside herself. She forces out a little exhale as the bulb slips inside, and Blake’s eyes flit down to watch Yang’s abdomen flex.

“Turn around,” Yang tells her. Blake rolls onto her knees and grabs an armful of pillows to pad around her stomach. Yang crawls up behind her, palm caressing against the slope of her ass. Blake bites her lip, cants her hips into the pillows that are supporting her pelvis.

“You sure you want it, baby?” Yang asks, voice low and teasing.

“Please, Yang. Don’t play with me,” Blake whimpers as Yang’s hand slides up her spine, fingers running along either side of the vertebrae. She arches into the touch, forces herself not to grind against the pillows below.

Yang keeps one hand on Blake’s lower back and lowers the other, running up the inside of Blake’s thigh. When she reaches Blake’s pussy, Yang lets out a shaky breath, almost like a sigh of relief. Blake moans loudly, burring her face into the pillows as Yang strokes her from behind. Her fingers are soft and shallow, circling her entrance.

“Tell me again,” Yang says huskily. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want you to fuck me with your cock,” Blake says, breathless. She doesn’t bother hesitating, hides her face in embarrassment instead. If it means Yang will fuck her, Blake will give her anything she asks.

There’s a beat where Blake thinks Yang might ask for more, keep teasing her, but Yang pulls her fingers away and immediately replaces them with the tip of the strap on.

Blake moans long and loud as Yang presses it into her, punctuated with a sharp yelp when Yang bucks forward to sink the final inch inside. Yang’s hips snap against the back of Blake’s thighs and she feels so full that she’s worried the stretch alone will make her come.

“You’re so tight, baby,” Yang murmurs, brushing hair away from Blake’s neck so she can lean over and place tiny kisses along her shoulders. “So wet and warm,” she mumbles.

It’s not something Yang can feel through the toy, but she knows from experience just how amazing Blake feels wrapped around her fingers, how wet she gets against Yang’s tongue.

Blake clearly appreciates the comment, because she whines and presses back, and Yang can feel the way Blake’s muscles squeeze around the cock inside her.

Blake moans at the feeling of being penetrated, of being pressed into the pillows, of soft, flat pressure against her clit. Yang gives one final kiss against her spine—just enough time for Blake to adjust—before she straightens up. She grasps at Blake’s hips and starts a firm, steady rhythm.

The room fills up with hot, heavy breaths, the sound of Yang’s hips snapping against Blake’s, of stifled moans as Blake cries out with her face buried into the pillows.

Yang angles her hips down, and with each thrust, her cock drags against Blake’s g-spot, pushes her clit harder against the pillow beneath her.

“I love fucking you like this,” Yang admits, breath coming out in heavy puffs of air and lining up with each inward thrust. Blake can feel the tremble start in her thighs as her orgasm rapidly approaches. “You’re so sexy, so fucking sexy.”

Blake turns her face to the side. “Yang. I’m so close,” she whimpers. “Please.”

Yang picks up the pace, and Blake quivers, tenses.

“I want you to come with me inside of you,” Yang husks, hands at her waist as she pulls Blake back into her thrusting hips. Blake’s stomach coils, her lungs seize.

“Oh, fuck.”

She comes with a violent shudder, cunt pulsing as Yang fucks her through it, only slowing down when Blake slumps forward against the pillows, ever mindful of her growing stomach.

She rolls to the side and onto her back, boneless and dazed. Yang drops beside her, harness still strapped to her hips.

“Better?” Yang asks. There’s a please little smirk on her lips, but Blake can see the fire behind those eyes when she turns to face her, and god if it doesn’t spark that same fire between Blake’s own legs (… again).

“Get on your back,” she says, pushing against Yang’s shoulder. Yang raises her eyebrows in surprise but obeys, laying on her back, knees slightly bent.

Blake climbs into her lap and immediately lowers herself onto Yang’s cock. It slides in easily; She’s soaked after two consecutive orgasms and the toy is still glistening from the last one.

Yang is rapt as she watches Blake move above her, hips rolling, eyes closing.

“Touch me,” Blake pleads, and Yang’s hands dart up to skim along her stomach. She runs her hands along Blake’s sides, up towards her breasts. Blake hums, bracing her hands against Yang’s shoulders as she leans forward, and Yang’s hands slip around to her back, down her spine to rest against her ass.

Yang’s eyes glaze over as she watches Blake fuck herself, and with every rut of Blake’s hips, the strap on jolts inside of her, the base ramming against her clit.

“Fuck, Blake. I-I’m… I think I’m gonna come,” Yang whines, hands pulling against Blake’s ass, encouraging her to speed up.

“Do it,” Blake pants. “Come inside me.” Yang lets out a strained moan at her words and bites down on her lip. She sits up—core straining against the weight of Blake’s hands—and presses her face into Blake’s sternum.

She slides a hand from Blake’s ass to her clit and rubs firm circles around the sensitive bud. Blake moans, her hips jerk against Yang’s fingers, her cunt tightens around the toy. She’s already come twice, and Yang is careful not to overstimulate her clit, but the pressure is just enough to break her.

Yang watches as Blake’s brow creases, as her eyes press shut. Her thrusts become erratic and her walls clench down around the toy.

“Oh god. Yang. ”

Blake lets out a high-pitched moan and bites into the flesh between Yang’s neck and shoulder. She shudders, hips continuing to rut against the toy. A swell of pleasure uncoils in her gut, flowing straight from the fingers at her clit.

“Baby, you feel so good. Just like that,” Yang gasps. “I’m so fucking close.”

Yang comes, pent up arousal washing over her in radial waves. It lasts longer than normal, and when her walls finally stop clenching around the strap on, she releases a shuddering breath.

“Fuck.” It’s almost a sigh of relief as she collapses back against the mattress. Blake gingerly lifts herself off the toy and rolls onto her back.

“I’m taking this off, now,” Yang says, breath still coming in deep pants.

“Okay.”

She doesn’t move.

“You’re done? Cause I don’t think I can go another around. At least not without a nap,” she says, arms dead by her side. She can’t even muster the energy to roll over and snuggle.

“I’m done,” Blake says.

Neither move.

After a moment, Blake lets her head roll to the side. Yang’s eyes are closed, and her breath has evened out.

“Isn’t that uncomfortable?” She asks, referring to the feeldoe still nestled inside Yang, jutting up from her hips, held in place by the harness. Yang just grunts.

“Too tried to move,” she mumbles.

“You have to clean up before you sleep,” Blake reminds her and Yang whines in protest, the sound more of a gurgle at the back of her throat. Blake can’t help but smile, watching a pout form on Yang’s lips, even as it’s directed at the ceiling.

“Come on,” Blake says, rolling over to sit up. “I’ll run a bath and you can wash my hair.”

“… How is that incentive for me to move?” Yang asks, eyes peaking open to watch Blake disappear into the en-suite.

“It’s not,” Blake agrees. Yang waits for a follow up, but all she hears is Blake turning on the water.

Snorting, Yang sits up and gently shimmies out of the harness. She throws it to the side to deal with later. Hobbling over to the bathroom (because fuck, she’s still really sensitive), she peaks inside.

Blake is already sitting in the bath, water still running as it pools around her legs. Her hands cradle her stomach, gently stroking the taut skin.

“He’s kicking,” she smiles, glancing up as she speaks.

“She,” Yang corrects, kneeling beside the tub to join their hands above their child. She grins when she feels a tiny limb knock into her hand.

“He,” Blake argues. “Mother’s intuition.”

“I’m gonna be a mother too, you know. Like, he’s half mine or whatever—” Yang pauses when she realises her use of the male pronoun.

“Fuck… maybe they will be a boy.” Blake giggles in delight and scoots forward in the tub. Yang slides in behind her and wraps her arms around Blake, moving her hands back into position on her stomach.

“I guess it’s probably a good thing that it doesn’t matter,” Blake says, linking their fingers together.

“Hmm,” Yang hums, pressing a kiss to the space behind Blake’s human ear before leaning forward to turn off the faucet. The water laps at Blake’s belly and splashes at their hands, the metal of their wedding band’s glinting through the steam.

“Our little boy,” Yang smiles, nuzzling into Blake’s damp hair.

“Or girl,” Blake smiles through a whisper.

“Or girl,” Yang grins against Blake’s skin. “Either way, I can’t wait until we can finally meet you.”