Asher/Baabe pregnancy headcanons I think I might turn this into a series??? Idk yet (This isn’t proof read so sorry if something is spelled wrong also, it’s kinda short bc I wrote it during my econ class lol)
Cw: pregnancy, pregnancy symptoms
Ok so they only found out because Baabe started waking up with morning sickness
Asher would find them practically hugging the toilet
“Baabe, are you ok? I know my cooking wasn’t good yesterday but was it really that bad? Did I give you food poisoning??”
But when the symptoms continued they went to the doctor only to find out Baabe was pregnant
Asher was beyond excited like literally bouncing off the walls and he wouldn’t shut up about it
“Do you think it’ll be a boy or a girl? What are we gonna name them? We need to set up the nursery. What color should we paint it?”
When Baabe was in the emotional stage and started crying for no reason, Ash would start crying too to the point where Baabe would end up comfort him
“Ash it’s ok, stop crying, I’m fine” “I know but now I can’t stop crying”
Asks Davey to teach him how to cook just so he can cook for Baabe in case they’re craving something
So many cuddles
Like he gets even clingier
Baabe uses them being pregnant as an excuse for everything
“Ash, I don’t wanna watch this show can you change it?” “But Baabe the episode just came out I’ve been waiting for this” *Baabe points to their stomach* “Fine” and then he changes it
He’s really excited up until he realizes that he doesn’t know how to change a diaper or even properly know how to hold a baby
He buys so many parenting books
When Baabe starts going into labor Ash is more freaked out then they are
Like you know that one scene from the office that’s like “omg ok it’s happening, everybody stay calm, everybody stay fucking calm” yeah that’s Ash
Ash cried when the baby was born, he sat on the hospital bed holding Baabe with one arm and the baby with another
Stoppp omg that made me soft
Ok but when the baby is born they become partners in crime
The baby is literally a mini Ash bc 1. They look a like 2.once the baby learns how to crawl he will not stay still
I can imagine it being the middle of the night and Asher wasn’t in bed so Baabe went to go look for him and then finds him on the couch with the baby watching Pokémon
“Ash he was supposed to be asleep three hours ago”
And when the baby is a toddler Baabe finds Ash trying to teach him how to play Halo
“Really Ash?” “He saw me playing and then he wanted to play too, how was I supposed to say no?”
Ash has full conversations about Pokémon with the baby when he learns how to talk
Speaking of Pokémon, for Halloween Ash dresses up as Ash Ketchum and dresses the baby up as Pikachu
Later that night when the baby was put to sleep, Baabe and Ash were cuddling in bed he was like
“Baabe I want another one” “Another what?” “Another baby”
And then right be he falls asleep he adds
“We could dress him up as Raichu”
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the party (after the party)
just realised I never actually posted this here... post-solstice party fic, featuring: sharing clothes, dorky dancing, and songs about werewolves.
redacted asmr: asher x babe, rated teen (some suggestive themes). wc: ~2k
READ ON AO3
Asher finds Babe at the Solstice afterparty.
-
“So, you’ve been listening to werewolf tunes all night?”
--
the party (after the party)
“Baaabe… you awake?”
It’d taken him longer than he’d anticipated to make it back to their shared cabin after the pack run, somehow failing at navigating the campsite and making more than a few wrong turns along the way.
(He could have sworn the location of their cabin had been moved. Probably. Maybe.)
One step, two steps, stumbling a little on the steps as he makes his way up into their little loft, loose-limbed and smelling of the forest. He's a little moon drunk, a lightness in his chest that stems from the energy that’s running through him, an electric pulse under the skin, drawn out by the solstice.
It’s intoxicating, leaving him almost giddy, riding on the high - and there’s no one else he wants to spend this night together with than his mate.
But they aren’t here.
The loft room is empty, the sheets of their bed cool under his palm - and right, the party. The party after the party.
Stilling, he thinks he can hear the sounds of it, in the cabin across the way. Well, he’s cheating - the wolf is still in his veins, heightening his senses, and if he listens carefully enough, he can hear the murmur of voices, the human and empowered mates of the wolf pack.
With their scent in the air, on the back of his throat, his instincts are close to the surface, and he wants.
He makes to head back out again, before he catches his reflection in the floor-length mirror outside the bathroom - and stops. Well, shit.
At first glance, he’s fine. Sure, his hair is a little tangled, and he thinks there could be a twig or two in there... but then you look a little closer, and yeah, that's blood smeared on his cheek, from the hunt. All that’s left of the unfortunate rabbit that had crossed his path earlier - and he can still feel the weight of it between his teeth, the salty iron of its blood on his tongue...
Yeah, he needs a shower.
He’s in and out in five minutes, the night still singing in his veins. He shifts, just for the joy of it, shaking off the weight of the water and making one hell of a mess that he'll have to clean up later - but that’s tomorrow's problem.
Their room smells like them, the two of them, mingled together, impossible to separate one from the other, and it curls something deep within him, primal and hungry.
He misses them with an ache, and yeah.
Time to gatecrash a party.
-
Things are winding down by the time he gets over there, and he catches a glimpse of a familiar figure further down the path, nearing the woods where he’d left David earlier. Looks like his alpha’s night is only just starting... heh, and yeah, that’s something he's gonna remember for the next pack gossip session.
He nearly runs into Milo's mate at the door, catching himself just in time as they give him a long once over, a slow smiling curling up their lips before their bright eyes meet his gaze.
“Milo texted me. Your mate is just packing up.”
With a wave of their fingers, they’re gone - just blinked out of existence, and he huffs out a laugh, stepping aside before they can phase through him, before stepping over the threshold.
Babe is by the sound system, scrolling through an ipod that must be ten years old by now - and looks it, the metal scuffed and dented, but apparently still workable.
They don’t notice him immediately, their head bobbing in time with the music, and he lingers there for a moment, watching them. They’re dressed casually, loose shirt and sweats - and that’s his shirt, one of their favourites, soft and worn from use, the older shaw security logo stitched into the pocket.
They’ve upgraded the uniforms since then, the growth of the company pushing David to invest in a professional production deal, instead of hand stitching, but he’d been attached to the original design, and he’d managed to save a few in his size.
He’s happy to give them one - especially when they look so damn good in it.
They drop the ipod back onto the table, turning to pick up their jacket - a wide smile breaking across their features as they catch sight of him in the doorway.
“You’re back.”
“I am.” He grins, and he loves the way their smile grows to match it, until their eyes crease with it. Taking a step further into the room, he nudges a deflated balloon, glancing around at the mess of crepe paper and empty champagne bottles. “Looks like you had a lot of fun.”
Their eyes sparkle. “We did.”
They’re so close, but he’s still not holding them yet, and so he rectifies that, crossing the space quickly until he can wrap his arms around them, burying his face into their neck.
Fuck, they feel so good in his arms. They laugh, their arms winding around his waist, their heartbeat strong and steady against his lips as he presses them against their pulse. “I missed you, babe.”
They hum, trailing their fingers through his hair. “How was the run?”
“It was good. More than good.” He can still feel the rush of it, the scent of the forest in his lungs, the press of the earth under his paws. “This feels good, too.”
Close like this, he can sense every shift in their reactions - smell the salt on their skin, the faint reminder of their shampoo. Their free hand slips beneath the hem of his shirt, tracing along his sides, spreading heat wherever they touch, and Christ, if it doesn’t send a shiver running through him.
He presses another soft kiss against their throat, trailing up towards their jaw as their fingers tighten in his hair.
“Wanna get out of here?”
“Mmm… I have to finish cleaning up.” Their breath catches as he trails his mouth up to their ear, focusing on that sensitive spot that always makes them tremble.
His voice is barely more than a whisper. “That can wait, babe.”
They hum, and he can feel the thrum of it against his lips. “Most of it can.”
Slowly, they disentangle their fingers from his hair, the other sliding down to his hip, applying just enough pressure to ease him back. “It won’t take long.”
He leans in to steal another kiss, soft and sweet, before he pulls back with a reluctant sigh.
“Let me help.”
–
Together, they sort through the worst of the mess, storing the salvageable leftovers in the portable fridge before taking the rest to the dumpsters out back. It's time consuming, but it makes sense to sort out the food now - they've had enough curious creatures poking around the campsite already.
He keeps sneaking glances at them whenever he can. He can never get over how much he likes seeing them like this, easy and comfortable with his pack around them. They’re human; they weren’t born into this like he was, but they’d taken to it like water, another member of the family, and god, he’s so fucking lucky.
More than once they catch him staring, their grey eyes soft and creased with fond amusement, which he often chases with a kiss. He’s easily distracted, they remark after a while – which is understandable, he explains, when they’re so very distracting.
(“Distractingly hot,” he adds, for clarification, which earns him an eye roll and a soft, rolling laugh that warms him from the inside out.)
The music remains a constant backdrop, left on the same shuffle from earlier. It's a fun mix, fitting for an afterparty vibe, and he digs it. Especially when the song changes, transitioning from mellow pop to something faster, with a beat - something he can move too.
And then the lyrics start.
A full moon and I’m coming your way-
“Oh, I like this babe.”
They glance up at him, their expression an adorable mix of amusement and embarrassment - and he loves it when he gets them flustered like this, breaking through their calm exterior.
“It’s not mine,” They clarify, a flush rising on their cheeks as they lift the ipod in their grip until he can see the mix title - Angel’s mix. “Their taste is somewhat… eclectic.”
“I’m not kidding, this song slaps.” He grins at their exasperated expression. It shouldn’t come as a surprise that his taste overlaps with David's mate. They have excellent taste. It does give him an idea though…
Stepping forward, he takes their hand, tugging them gently closer. “Come on babe, dance with me.”
They give him a look that says - really? - even as they give him their hand, and god, he loves them for that. He loves them for many reasons, but the way they indulge him, allow him to be himself, without holding anything back…
He spins them, slow, until they’re pressed back against him, warm and close. His hands settle on their hips, keeping them close as the beat speeds up, and they feel so fucking good like this. The way they lean into him, trusting his strength, all softness and heat and that sweet, delicious pressure.
Tilting his head, he presses his mouth to that soft spot, just below their ear, pressing soft kisses, barely more than a feather touch, until he can feel the way they shiver. “So, you’ve been listening to werewolf tunes all night?”
He can see the flush where it has travelled lower on their skin, down their chest; feel the heat of them against him, and fuck, they have. He's gonna have to get a hold of this playlist.
“Maybe.”
He trails his mouth back down their throat, a smile curling his lips as he feels them shiver again, a hand reaching up, delicate fingers tangling in his hair, holding him close. Their touch sends shivers through him, all the way down his spine, and fuck.
He keeps his voice low, enjoying the effect it has on them. “Want to try some of the real thing?”
Their breath hitches before they're twisting in his arms until they can face him. Their eyes are bright, a flush rising high on their cheeks. “Don’t make promises you can't keep.”
Fuck, they’re gorgeous.
His hands slip under their thighs, lifting them easily until he can kiss them properly, and shit. He can never get enough of the taste of them.
“The cabin-”
“Yeah.” He carries them to the door, just about managing to maintain enough focus as they map out his throat with their lips and teeth. “The music, how do I-”
“I’ve got it.”
Just as they reach the ipod to turn off the music, the song draws to a close, and…
“Is that... howling?”
“Not my playlist.”
-
They’re a mess by the time they stumble back to their cabin, and he's convinced he’s bumped into every possible corner in the place when they make it to the bedroom, but it’s worth it. It’s worth it not to lose a moment of this, their hands on him roaming, their tongue in his mouth.
“I want you to let go with me,” they tell him, their grey eyes glittering in the moonlight that filters in through the shuttered windows. “Don’t hold back.”
“Fuck, babe.” He kisses them again, wet and filthy, as their hands sneak under his shirt, trimmed nails tracing down his chest and leaving trails of fire burning on his skin. “You’re not gonna get any sleep tonight, you realise that right?”
They laugh, soft and bright and mischievous, and fuck, he loves them.
“I’m counting on it.”
He loves them so goddamn much.
“Get ready, babe.”
–
(They’re still wearing his shirt when he brings them breakfast in the morning, the loose collar hanging low, revealing the marks from his mouth that trail down to their collarbone, and shit.
“You have no idea what you do to me, babe.”
By the gleam in their eye as they take the plate from him, setting it down on the side table, he thinks they might.
So, maybe they get sidetracked before breakfast. And after. And again, later, in the shower, on his knees with their fingers twisting in his hair, their moans in his ears…
It’s long past noon by the time they finally rejoin the rest of the pack, and he knows it's obvious what they’ve been doing from the way David’s nose wrinkles when they enter, and the flat stare he levels him after - but honestly? Hella fucking worth it.)
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